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#balcony sentry
littlepawz · 1 year
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Although it has been 3 years since Rascal was rescued from a penguin colony, he still hasn’t fully grasped that he is a cat.
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throneofsapphics · 4 months
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midnight panic
Rowaelin x f!Reader
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Request: dark!Rowaelin x reader angst to fluff, she wanders around the castle and they can’t find her and think she ran or something. 
Summary: Rowan and Aelin find you missing in the middle of the night 
Warnings: darkish rowan/aelin, sleepwalking, hypothermia, fighting, toxic relationships
Word Count: ~3.2k 
A/N: this is a standalone, but also fits between parts 4 & 5 of my dark poly!rowaelin series (have your little girlfriend), but you don’t need to read the actual series to understand this one!
Aelin squinted, the light from the full moon hitting at the perfect angle to shine directly on her face. Keeping her eyes shut, not wanting the sleepiness to disappear, she turned back towards her, reaching her arm over to pull her back into her side, to cuddle into her warmth again. 
Aelin’s hand hit the bed, the space beside her warm - but empty, her eyes shot open. Majority of the time, she slept between her and Rowan. Lifting her head, she wasn't on his other side. Things had been … testy, lately. She couldn’t shake the feeling that y/n wanted out, wanted to leave the two of them, to escape to gods-know-where. She listened carefully for sounds in the bathroom - or even the sitting room, but nothing. How had she left without them noticing? 
“Rowan,” she said, trying to keep her voice low enough she wouldn’t startle him. Wouldn’t trigger the battle-honed instincts. A grunt, and he rolled towards her, reaching his own hand out and - his eyes shot open as well. Rowan checked the bathroom, and she peeked out onto the balcony - empty. Nothing was out of place, no missing items, if anything she’d left with only the clothes on her back.
“What the hell,” she muttered under her breath. 
“She was here an hour ago,” Rowan said, all traces of sleep gone. A good bit of distance could be covered in an hour, especially if she’d shifted into her animal form. 
I’ll check inside the castle, she said silently
I have the city, he assured her. In bird form, he’d be able to cover more ground. Signal if you find her. If we don’t in two hours, meet back here. 
One they’d used throughout the years - a pulse of magic, strong enough the other could recognize, but subtle enough to not cause alarm to the general public. 
It was midnight, and absolutely freezing. There was snow on the ground, ice covering the windows, the temperatures well below freezing. Even inside the castle, a bitter chill set in. Within minutes, they were dressed warmly and armed with their usual assortment of weapons. Rowan propped the window open, and with a flash of light a white-tailed hawk soared into the night. 
Aelin knew all of the routes to take to avoid any guards or sentries. It went without saying that they’d keep this under wraps. When they found her, there’d be hell to pay. She raced through the halls, checking her workshop, the private library, every place she usually liked to spend time. Every scent was faint, she hadn’t been there in the last few hours. Each minute she grew angrier and more worried. 
Tracing back, on impulse she checked on of the older passages out of the castle - and caught her scent. Running, she’d tried to run. Breathing deeply to tamp down her anger, threatening to flow over into her magic, she focused her senses. There’s no way she’d let her get away. A mating bond was for life. There’s nowhere she could run that her mates wouldn’t find her, even if it took years. 
-
Rowan flew over the city, backtracking through every route she could take out, searching for any trail of her scent. He spotted Aelin, following a path out of the castle, and shot down, shifting to fall in step with her. 
“She went this way,” Aelin said quietly, and he picked up on the same trail. Fae, at least she hadn’t shifted, that would make this much easier. 
This was familiar, something they’d done in their time before her. They were going on a hunt. 
Did she really think they wouldn’t notice? He needed to figure out how he’d given her the impression he was that stupid, and fix it. 
They trailed her out of the castle grounds, past the gates - a guard currently sleeping on duty. He’d quickly find himself out of a job in the morning, but he didn’t have the time to address that now, instead sending a sharp wind towards him when they were out of sight. A shield wrapped around them, hiding their scents as they stuck to the shadows, tracing her steps. 
She led them out of the city, just past the gates, right to the edge of the forest. His anger was rising to dangerous levels, and he knew that. Rowan prayed she wouldn’t fight them. 
Aelin held a hand out, as they paused just before a clearing. 
They’d found her, and it wasn’t what he expected. 
Barefoot, in only  her nightgown, not a weapon or any kind of provisions on her, she walked back and forth along the edge of the clearing. She crouched every few steps to pick up something, but her hands came back empty. Something was wrong - there was a daze in her eyes, murmuring random phrases under her breath, low enough he couldn’t hear. She didn’t drink any alcohol that night… Could someone have slipped her a drug? No, they ate all of the same food in their rooms, and he always made a point to check for any kind of poison. 
Following Aelin’s lead, they slowly approached her. 
“Y/n,” Aelin called. She didn’t react, didn’t even turn around. Aelin repeated her name - louder. Still nothing. 
A warm flame caressed her skin, starting to warm her back up. Gods, she’d be hypothermic by now. He’s surprised she hasn’t passed out on the ground.
All Rowan wanted was to sprint towards her, to grab and shake her, to find out what the fuck she was thinking, but instinct had him moving carefully and slowly, keeping his footsteps purposefully loud.
Aelin met his eyes; what do we do?
His breath caught as she turned, but no recognition flashed through her eyes. Actually, it was like they weren’t there at all. 
Aelin tried calling her name, again and again and didn’t get a single reaction. Nothing to register she was aware they existed. 
An exasperated sigh, and she closed the distance, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Y/n screamed, stumbling backwards, her ass hitting the ground, hands scrambling on the rocks to try and get away. A wall of flame, but not one that would burn her, blocked the path. As she reached the warmth, something in her calmed. Almost like she’d recognized Aelin’s magic, even wherever she was right now. 
Did she ever mention sleepwalking? Rowan asked her. 
Not that I know of. 
That doesn’t mean it’s not possible. There’s a chance she would hide something like this from them, probably not thinking it was important. He’d bet a decent bit of gold that’s exactly what’s happening right now. Gods, they’d be putting locks on everything now. 
After five minutes of trying to reach her, five minutes of her increasing distress, five minutes of fear starting to fill the air, he gave up. Palms already bloodied, wiping them off on her nightgown, he crouched as close to her as he could get. 
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, and pulled the air from her lungs, catching her before her head could hit the ground. 
-
Mercifully, she stayed asleep as they ran back to the castle, moving as quickly as possible while staying hidden. Aelin kept the flames going, kept slowly warming her temperature back to healthy levels. Rowan had thrown her over his shoulder, one arm securing her legs in place. It didn’t look comfortable, but it was the quickest way to get back. Comfort could come later, after she was home, warm, and safe. Her mind whirled with the things she needed to do; find a way to secure the room, run a warm bath, hope she’d wake easily, and figure out if she was hiding this from them. 
They made it back without incident, taking all of the hidden passageways through the castle. Nearing one in the morning. She’d been outside for two hours. Anything could’ve happened to her. Especially considering how gods-damned vulnerable she was. It wasn’t her fault, not really, but Aelin was still pissed off. 
Not how they’d thought, but they came so close to losing her without even knowing. 
-
She felt warm water around her, her muscles tense and aching. Wasn’t she asleep? How the hell did she get into a bath? It took more effort than it should’ve to open her eyes, but she saw Aelin, right there, watching her every movement. Relief flashed through turquoise eyes, followed by … anger or resentment. 
“Do you know what happened?” Aelin asked, voice rough. 
“What do you mean?” She moved her foot up and down, her leg feeling weaker than normal. The water was warm, she knew that, but a shiver still ran through her and she wrapped her arms back around herself. The bath heated a few degrees, and she felt Aelin’s magic running through the water. Soothing and comforting. 
“We found you in the gods-damned forest,” Aelin hissed, struggling to keep her voice low. 
The door swung open, revealing Rowan. She noticed they were both fully dressed, weapons still sheathed. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. 
“Have you ever sleepwalked?” He asked mildly. A dangerous kind of mild, especially considering the rest of his body language, and the anger she could feel radiating down the bond. 
“Not since I was a child,” she admitted. Green eyes darkened, fixed on her, like he’d located his newest target. Her throat bobbed, chest tightening. It was never good to be on the receiving end of that look. 
“And you didn’t think to share that?” 
“It’s been years,” she focused on keeping her tone quiet and calm, on staying steady, even as her hands threatened to shake. She didn’t like this side of them. Darting her eyes to Aelin, she found herself on the receiving end of that same look. 
Liar, her eyes seemed to say. 
“I never lied,” she knew what their reply would be. 
“Lying by omission is still lying.” 
She was tired, aching, and still dazed. Her mind could barely focus enough to actually get a grip on the situation. The forest. Sleepwalking. Lying. It was too much effort to speak, to keep her eyes open, darkness swirled in her vision. 
“Stay awake,” fingers pinched her cheek, and she startled, water splashing over the sides of the tub. Fire evaporated it before it could reach the ground. 
“I’m trying,” y/n mumbled, running a wet hand over her face. The water heated again. How long had Aelin been doing this with her? “I don’t understand,” she gripped her hair with both hands, yanking at it. Frustrated. None of this made sense. 
Hands gripped her own, tugging them away from her hair. She was lifted out of the bath, towels drying her, leaning against someone as they slipped a nightgown over her - too weak to stand on her own. The next thing she knew, she hit soft and warm sheets, cradled between two warm bodies, and let sleep take her under. 
Every so often, her name would be called, eyes blinking open, gazing up at either Rowan or Aelin, they’d give her a small nod and she understood that - she could go back to sleep. There wasn’t enough space in her mind to question what was going on, it was easy to listen to what her mates said, to sense and follow their intentions. 
-
Aelin met Rowan’s eyes in the bathroom; she’s too confused. 
We won’t get anything out of her tonight, he finished her thoughts. 
Seeing the state of confusion, the distress, the vulnerability, all made it easy to just take care of her, to shove away the other emotions for now, to focus on making sure she’s safe. Free from anything that could harm her, including the sleepwalking. But, the major concern now was making sure her body recovered from her little adventure. Neither of them slept that night, Aelin didn’t try - she only grabbed a book and tried to focus on it. Inevitably, her eyes would switch to the clock, waiting for the next half-hour to wake her. It probably wasn’t necessary, or recommended, but she had to know y/n would wake. 
When dawn broke, she finally felt like she could leave the room, Rowan still keeping a careful eye on her. Just a week away from Samhuinn, the days rapidly got shorter and shorter as they approached the coldest months. They’d get maybe ten and half or eleven hours of daylight today. The sun always disappeared too quickly for her liking. 
A fire roared in the sitting room behind her, and she busied herself making tea, adding extra honey to y/n’s. She was out in the cold for a few hours, and her voice did sound hoarse earlier, Aelin figured she might have a sore throat. If not, she had a sweet tooth anyway.  
“I’m perfectly capable,” Aelin heard y/n’s voice rising, “I can get out of this damned bed on my own.” 
“Don’t fucking move,” Rowan snapped at her. She agreed with him, and carefully balanced the three cups. 
Pushing the door open with her foot, she found Rowan standing over the side of the bed, ready to pin y/n to the bed if she tried to move again. She was propped up against the headboard, fists clenching the comforter. Aelin could tell y/n woke up ready for a fight. Good, she wasn’t feeling particularly calm either. But first, tea. 
-
Aelin came back in, but y/n knew she wouldn’t be on her side. It was two-against-one now. Even as Aelin shoved the cup of tea into her hands, taking up the space next to her on the bed, legs crossed, and hands cradling her own cup. Silently, Rowan took the other from her, and dragged his chair closer to the bed. 
Y/n knew exactly what the cups would have. A good amount of sugar for Aelin, plain and boring for Rowan, and based on the scent - honey for her. She’s not sure how, but Aelin picked up that her throat was sore. It was enough to soothe some of the sting from the impending argument. 
Sure enough, honey exploded on her tongue - more than usual, but it was soothing her throat, and she wouldn’t complain. Complaining would only make her situation worse. She debated just accepting blame, letting them win this one, but truly - she hadn’t done anything wrong. There was no indication to think she’d end up sleepwalking again. Gods, she’d forgotten about it. 
“I haven’t sleepwalked since I was seven years old,” she kept her eyes on her cup, swirling the liquid to give her something to focus on. 
“If we’re going to talk about this, you need to look at us,” Rowan said too calmly. Fuck. 
Throat bobbing, she looked up at them. Seeing the gleam in their eyes, she went right on the defensive. “I was asleep, how the hell is this my fault?” Rowan stiffened, and she looked to Aelin.
“The problem is, you didn’t think to tell us,” Aelin’s voice was neutral, but she knew that was the sign of her growing anger. 
“You never asked,” she hissed back at her. 
“Watch your fucking attitude,” Rowan snarled. 
Closing her eyes, a few deep breaths later, she tried something different, “my parents always told me it only happened when I felt safe, when my mind - even asleep, thought I couldn’t come to any harm.” 
Emphasizing that she feels safe with them, that even though it was dangerous - the deepest parts of her mind believed she couldn’t come to any harm around them. At least she’s hoping that’s what they’d read out of the situation. 
“We thought you ran,” Aelin said quietly, her hand reaching out, and y/n slipped her palm into hers, giving her a light squeeze. She could tell Aelin had already softened, that her anger was slowly ebbing out. Rowan, however, would take a bit more time, and maybe some more soothing. 
“I’m not running,” she murmured. It’s the truth, she doesn’t want to leave, even if she craved some space away - something she could never tell them. Truly leaving them, she doesn’t think she could ever do that. Her heart and soul might not survive it, even if her mind says it could be better. 
Rowan was still assessing her, and she forced herself to meet his gaze, and she read the words in his eyes instead, the silent communication; you didn’t think. 
I’m sorry, she answered. 
Are you really?
That I put both of you through that. Rowan seemed to be waiting, waiting for her to add something. And myself, she tried. He gave her a short nod, and she understood; conversation over. 
She’d expected a much larger fight, but gods she’s glad it didn’t come to that. Y/n stretched, trying to place her mug on the table, but Rowan was there before she could get halfway, snatching it from her hands to place it there himself. 
Another realization struck her. Rowan told her briefly that she nearly froze to death. Now they’d be absolutely insufferable until they were satisfied she was healthy again. Knowing them, it could take much longer than necessary. Maybe this was her punishment, she met Rowan’s gaze again, reading the gleam in his eyes. Yes, it’s definitely her punishment. 
She debated reaching back into that part of her, trying to shift into her fox form - where everything would be easier. 
Rowan - the bastard, sensed that. “Try to shift and I’ll rip the air out of your lungs.” 
“A bit dramatic,” she huffed, but it put an end to that idea, and her attention switched to Aelin, who looked tired. A bit of guilt crept in, she’d been up all night for her. “Will you take a nap with me?” 
She is tired. Sleep sounded very, very nice. Aelin latched on to the idea, almost chucking her mug at Rowan before sliding in next to her. 
Aelin tugged her into her chest, their bodies molding together, legs tangling. Aelin ran her fingers through her hair, humming a tune she didn’t recognize. It was sweet, seeing Aelin in her fussy mode. At least this part of it. “Sleep, my love,” she murmured, placing a kiss to the top of her head. She heard Rowan rustling around the room, but every time she tried to look, Aelin tucked her head back in. Based on the movements, she figured it out pretty quickly. He was setting up something on the various doors in the room, some kind of noise or object would fall to alert them if she made it out over there. On the off chance both of them were asleep and didn’t notice. 
Without having to ask, she knew there would be locks on the doors by the end of the day. Locks she wouldn’t be able to access the key to, at least during the night. It felt vaguely like a cage, but the bed dipped again, a strong arm wrapping around her waist, Rowan’s strong chest pressing against her back.   
“Rowan,” she murmured, struggling to stay awake, “how the hell did I get past you?” 
A low growl from behind her, and she hid her laughter, tucking her face into Aelin. 
“I’m the one that found you,” she chuckled, hand resting on the back of her head, like she might protect her from the glare she could feel coming from Rowan. 
Y/n jumped as he pinched her arm, letting out a slightly-embarrassing squeak, but heard Aelin slapping Rowan’s hand away, chiding him.
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wizardofrozz · 1 year
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Shadow Play
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Commander Fox x senator!reader (fem), Senator Farr, Commander Thorn, and mention of Commander Stone
Word Count: ~3.7k
Warnings: NSFW, this is literally just filth, unprotected sex, exhibition, creampie, fluff, Fox being a tease
Summary: Seeing their favorite senator getting wrecked by their commander was certainly not in the Coruscant Guard’s mission briefing for today. 
A/N: I finally had the motivation to write some Fox smut thanks to this art. Huge thanks to @homie-one-kenobi​ for all the encouragement and help editing ❤️ Writing this has reduced me to a puddle so please enjoy 😂
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         Lights flashed across the rows of seats, making you squint as another Mon Calamari dancer twirled elegantly. You tried to focus on the choreography, praying it would hold your attention but no matter what, you still couldn’t force yourself to enjoy the ballet. Watching it for a third time wasn’t changing your opinion, yet it wasn’t like you could’ve declined the offer. Your eyes flickered to the balcony opposite you, noting Fox’s absence for the fifth time in less than an hour, borderline glaring at the unfortunate Corrie taking his place. 
         A small part of you hated the poor sentry, his red armor acting as a constant reminder that for the last 21 rotations and 17 hours since Fox left for an off-world assignment, your bed had been cold and empty. Your eyes finally drifted away from the trooper and just barely stopped yourself from rolling your eyes at the small group of senators whispering praises. While you agreed that the performers were exceptional, you couldn’t follow the plot, leaving you to count down the seconds until the next intermission. A small part of you wished that Riyo or Padme were there to make the whole experience a little more bearable. 
         Years of etiquette training was the only thing that stopped you from jumping out of your seat when a booming voice announced the second intermission. Your aid that was standing near the back of the senatorial box shot you a sympathetic look and you appreciated the gesture even if there was nothing they could do to help. Just as the door was within reach, the faint call of your name had you stopping in your tracks, forcing your expression to remain pleasant. 
         “Senator Farr,” you greeted, managing a small smile. You had nothing against the Rodian senator, you quite liked him, but you really weren’t in the mood for small talk. You expected him to ask for your interpretation of the ballet only to surprise you when he ushered you into the bustling hall. 
         “How many more acts are there?” he whispered, leaning in to keep the conversation somewhat private. Your mouth twisted to the side in a poor attempt at hiding your amusement.
         “Three,” you replied, chewing on your top lip when Senator Farr’s already large eyes seemed to grow bigger. “I plan to feign a stomach bug for the next two.” 
         “Will it be any less believable if we both do?” he mused, glancing over your shoulder at the cluster of senators still talking about Act 2. 
         “Probably more believable,” you snickered, scratching the corner of your mouth to cover your persistent grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m not feeling well.”
         “Hm, now that you mention it,” Farr sighed, his forehead wrinkling in a show of distress that you found quite impressive. He chanced one last look over your shoulder before gently nudging your arm and hurrying toward the bathroom. You allowed yourself a fond laugh before heading in the direction of the lady’s room, making a detour through the nearby door at the last second. The click of your disgustingly uncomfortable shoes was deafening in the silent stairwell, making you pause at the top of the first flight to check no one had followed. 
         Once you were confident you were in the clear, you took the last flight at a slower pace, contemplating burning the fucking torture devices you called shoes the entire way. You paused one last time at the top of the steps, just to be safe, before slipping through the door at the top. A warm, orangish glow washed over you, melting some of the tension in your neck and shoulders as you stepped into the cupola. 
         It had been far too long since you’d ventured into the little hideaway, only able to admire the beautiful stained glass windows from afar. Most Coruscant residents had no idea there was even a room atop the opera house, meaning they missed out on one of the most beautiful views. You lazily wandered toward the window, lightly brushing your fingers over the marbled glass, watching the slightly distorted ecumenopolis below. Your original intention had been to find a refuge from the torture of sitting through three more acts but standing there, looking out across the capital world, all you felt was lonely. 
         The soft whir of the door was lost to your aching heart but there was no mistaking the muted footsteps approaching. Anyone else would’ve felt fear in that moment, yet you only sighed, knowing the taste of solace you found had come to an end. You let your hand linger on the cool glass for another second before dropping it, turning to face the presence lingering off to your left. 
         For a moment, you were convinced you were hallucinating, that maybe you were sick, when you turned to find a Coruscant Guard member watching you. There was no mistaking the pattern you had sought out in waves of red armor time and time again. He canted his head and it was so painfully familiar, it nearly brought tears to your eyes.
         “What are you doing here?” you blurted, your manners suddenly tumbling to Coruscant’s surface. Not that he minded. 
         “I could ask you the same thing,” Fox countered. Just hearing his voice, the unique inflection in his words that set him apart had your shoulders slumping like the marionette strings folding your facade up had been cut. Something between a sob and laugh tumbled past your lips, the sound seemed to break through the barrier Fox built around himself. The second his stance lost some of its rigidity you were moving, throwing your arms around his shoulders. The collision punched a grunt out of Fox but he barely even swayed, catching your weight with ease.
         “What are you doing here?” you repeated, the words muffled against his shoulder. It had been three long weeks since you saw him before he went dark for a security detail off-world. Fox smelled of blaster fire, caf, and sweat, a mixture that should’ve had your nose wrinkling, but right then, it was so perfectly him you pressed closer. 
         “Thought I’d pick up a security shift for a few senators spending the night at the opera,” Fox sighed, pressing the hard edge of his helmet against the side of your head. That had you pulling away, staring into his dark visor. How long had he been back? The question must’ve been written all over your face because Fox laughed, a soft, beautiful sound. “Relax, we landed maybe an hour before it started.”
         “Shouldn’t you be resting?” you mumbled, threading your fingers together at the back of his neck.
         “I’ll rest when I’m dead,” Fox snorted, pulling you as close as he dared. The bite of plastoid against your body was uncomfortable but you’d take it over his absence any day.
         “Drama queen,” you huffed with a fond eye roll. His helmet tipped down and you assumed he was pinning you with a dark glare, something you had never wanted to see more than you did in that moment. You carefully broke the seal, slowly lifting the bright red helmet off, not realizing you were holding your breath. Fox blinked a few times, gently shaking his head, tousling his longer-than-normal curls. But instead of a scowl, you were greeted with a soft smile that melted your heart. 
         “Hey,” he breathed, gently tracing the curve of your back. 
         “Stars, I missed you,” you rasped just before surging forward to capture his lips. Fox let out a soft, breathy laugh against your lips before gently cradling the back of your head, and leaning into the kiss. The bitterness of caf lingered on his lips, a taste you shouldn’t have missed seeing that you drank it just as often as Fox, however, it always seemed to taste better this way.   
         The kiss had started out sweet, a slow and tender brush of lips that made your heart flutter wildly. You intended to pull away until Fox started to knead the back of your neck, molding you against the curve of his chest. Every ounce of fatigue and anxiety you had been holding onto melted away as you coaxed his mouth open. Fox groaned softly, using his hold on your neck to angle your head back with an urgency you weren’t expecting. The shift had your head spinning to the point that you hadn’t realized you were moving until your back met the cool window.
         “Missed you too,” Fox mumbled, dragging his lips away from yours to pant against your cheek. “So fucking much.”
         “Mm, playing bodyguard for one of my colleagues wasn’t engaging enough,” you teased, carding through his messy hair. Fox nipped at your ear in retaliation, forcing a half-gasp, half-giggle past your lips. He tugged you tighter against his chest, the unforgiving plastoid of his codpiece pressing into your thigh, tempting you with what waited behind it. 
         “Like any of them could compare to you,” he breathed, nuzzling into your neck with a shallow roll of his hips. Maybe it was because you weren’t used to him being gone for long stretches of time but you were suddenly aching to feel something beyond GAR blacks and rigid plastoid. Fox yelped at the impatient tug on his codpiece, pulling back to dart his eyes between your hand and your face. 
         “What - what are you doing?” he hissed, glancing over his shoulder. Yet he didn’t try to move your hand, letting you trace the shape at a torturous pace. 
         “I’m trying to indulge in what I’ve been daydreaming about for weeks,” you huffed, playfully tugging on the clip holding the armor in place. You watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed before his expression shifted, brown eyes somehow growing darker in the low light. 
         “Right here?” Fox mused, crowding you against the window and pinning your hand in place. Daring you to bow out. “Now what if one of the boys looked up and saw us? How would they feel seeing their favorite senator being ruined by their commander?” 
         “Fox,” you gasped, closing your fist in his hair, and grinding into the curve of his thigh plate. The idea should’ve scared you, should’ve filled you with a numbing dread at the thought of anyone catching an esteemed senator with a Guard commander. Instead, you clenched around nothing, mouth falling open with your strained pants. 
         “Oh, you like that, honey,” Fox purred, his gloved hand slipping under the hem of your short skirt. Even through a layer of fabric, his touch left a trail of heat across your skin. The quiet whine that followed the first brush of his fingers over your cunt made him shiver in your grip. “Maker, you sound even sweeter than in my dreams.”
         “You - you dream about the s-sounds I make?” you panted, rocking forward in time with the drag of his fingers.
         “Oh, I dream about more than that,” he chucked, bumping his nose against yours.
         “Care to share?”
         “How long do you have?” 
         “For you?” you whispered, barely brushing your lips against his. “All the time in the galaxy.”
         “Is that so?” he mumbled, moving to pepper kisses down the side of your neck. You caught a glimpse of redness high on his cheeks just before a digit sank into you with little resistance. Your cunt clenched around his gloved finger, a strangled moan bursting from your lips as he pumped his finger once. The rough fabric of his gloves never bothered you before but the desperate, clawing need to feel the warmth of his skin had you squirming.
         “Take your gloves off,” you all but begged, “please.” You almost wished you hadn’t asked when he slowly, torturously, pulled away. He caught your eye, pinning you in place with a heavy look, never breaking eye contact as he brought his hand toward his face. You had witnessed Fox bring down a mercenary single-handedly after losing his blaster, seen him dissolve a full-fledged riot, and hit what should’ve been an impossible mark without batting an eye. Yet somehow the sight of his tongue curling around the soaked finger of his glove was more electrifying, setting your teeth on edge. 
         He pinned you in place, closing his lips around his finger; his lashes fluttered, a muffled groan filling the air as he savored your taste. Your lungs suddenly felt too small as you watched the slow drag of his digit over his full bottom lip. Fox was putting on a show, the twinkle in his lust-blown eyes giving him away and you were undoubtedly enjoying every second. A flash of white teeth sinking into the tip of the glove made your breath hitch, your eyes staying glued to the hem of the fabric as Fox tilted his head back, revealing strong, calloused hands. 
         Fox’s now bare hand came to rest lightly against your chest, following the curve of your body but your focus was zeroed in on the glove dangling from his teeth. He looked far too pleased with himself, a slight smirk lifting the corner of his mouth as he paused, letting you admire the view. The feather-light brush of his fingers over your heated skin jerked you back to reality but your eyes still followed the fabric when he turned his head, letting the glove fall to the floor before turning his attention back to you. 
         “Better?” he rumbled, brushing through your folds before sinking two fingers into you, his smug grin never fading. Your head bobbed in an almost frantic nod as you tried to bite back a moan. Fox’s smug smile wasn’t helping either. 
         “Fuck, yes,” you gasped, tightening your grip in his hair. Fox hummed in the back of his throat, lazily pumping his fingers like he had all the time in the world. You were suddenly reminded of your hand placement when he shifted his weight. If your brain didn’t feel like it might leak out of your ears, you would’ve been more impressed with the skillful way you unclipped his codpiece in one swift movement. 
         “You’re getting too good at that,” Fox groaned, rocking into your hand.
         “You only have yourself to blame,” you laughed breathlessly, tracing the shape of his hard length. He surged forward, his finger brushing a devastating spot inside you as his lips slammed into yours, muffling your incoherent cry. 
         “Will–will you let me,” he stammered between kisses, the sloppy roll of his hips growing rougher, “let me fuck you for all of Coruscant to see?” 
         “If–fuck–if you don’t–” you warned, trying to sound commanding, but your ability to form words was quickly narrowing to nothing more than curses and Fox’s name. That seemed to be all the permission he needed though as he licked into your mouth again, the hand that had been buried in your cunt coming up to grip your jaw. In a flurry of movement, you were suddenly facing the expanses of Coruscant, Fox’s warmth pressing against your back as he hiked your skirt up, bunching it around your hips.
         “Put your hands on the window, honey,” he rumbled, brushing his nose against the shell of your ear. You obeyed without a second thought, bracing both your hands against one of the orange panels; your heart fluttered when one of his large hands filled the space beside yours. “I wonder if I’ll be able to see our handprints every time I pass by.”
         The thought that you’d leave behind a reminder, something only you and Fox would know about, had you pushing back into him. He seemed to catch on, unceremoniously tugging his pants down just enough to free his weeping cock, slipping it between your thighs. There was a brief moment where he paused, his tip barely pressing into your folds like he was savoring the buildup before he pushed in. The stretch felt endless, your head falling forward as you panted around soft whimpers until he was fully sheathed. 
         “Stars,” you chuckled, feeling dizzy with how full you were, “almost forgot how big you are.” Fox’s hips jerked forward involuntarily, punching the air from your lungs. His free hands slowly followed the curve of your waist, catching on the flashy fabric of your outfit, pausing briefly to brush a thumb over your covered nipple. A shiver tore through you when his hand gently curled around your throat, never squeezing, only using his grip as a way to hold you in place. 
         “Guess I’ll have to remind you,” he growled, pausing long enough for the words to sink in before he moved. The first thrust tested your ability to hold yourself up but Fox barely gave you a moment to steady yourself before he picked up a brutal pace. If you weren’t so high above the bustling crowds, you might’ve been worried about how you cried out, throwing your head back against Fox’s shoulder. 
         “F-Fox,” you moaned, needing him to hear the desperation pumping through your veins. You mindlessly curled your fingers over the smooth window pane, forcing your eyes open when you met warm skin. Fox’s hand was still braced against the window, your hand half covering his after your frantic scrambling. You were so mesmerized by the sheer size difference that you didn't notice right away when Fox shifted his weight, hitting a spot that made your eyes cross. You blindly grabbed onto the back of his hand, fingers interlacing between his. Fox instinctively closed his hand, pressing your fingertips into the rough skin of his palm. He nuzzled against your cheek, his ragged breathing raising goosebumps along the length of your throat.
         “Fuck, you - you feel so good, cyar’ika” he whimpered, pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your cheek. You were both spiraling out of control, climbing higher and higher with each galaxy-shattering thrust. Fox’s usually composed attitude was long gone, leaving him just as desperate and pleasure-drunk as you were. The heat building under your skin had reached a scalding level but you just couldn’t seem to fall over the edge.
         “I– I’m so close,” you whispered, turning your head to try and find his lips. Fox mumbled something you couldn’t quite catch before his hand slid over your chest, coming to rest on your stomach. The pressure of his hand made each punch of his cock somehow more explosive, reminding you both just how deep he was; Fox’s strangled moan overlayed with yours, his hips losing their rhythm.
         “Never - fuck -  never leaving you behind again,” he panted, leaning heavily against your back to drop his hand lower. Every muscle in your lower half clenched when his fingers brushed your clit, ripping an unusually loud moan from deep in Fox’s chest. The movements of his fingers were sloppy but you were so lost in the blinding pleasure that it didn’t matter. It finally, finally, crested, throwing you over the edge with a cry of Fox’s name as you gushed around him.
         It only took three more thrusts before Fox went rigid, burying himself to the hilt with a soft, shaky moan. 
         Your thoughts cleared slowly, the fog of arousal melting away as you drifted back down to Coruscant. The empty cupola felt oddly quiet without the slap of skin on skin, leaving you to focus on Fox’s slightly labored breathing. Your eyes drifted back to where your hands were still braced against the stained glass, a small smile lifting the corner of your mouth when you noticed that your hand was still wrapped around Fox’s larger one. Flashing speeder lights caught your attention, drawing your gaze to the traffic zipping past the opera house. 
         “Think anyone saw us?” you wondered absently. Fox laughed, loud and unguarded, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder and the sound alone was enough to make your stomach do a funny little flip.
         “We may never know,” Fox snickered, kissing the base of your neck. The deafening chirp of Fox’s comm brought you crashing back to reality, but you did your best to not let your disappointment show when he reached up to tap a button on his vambrace. “Fox.”
         “Gotta question for you, Commander,” Thorn said in place of a greeting. Fox propped his chin on your shoulder, humming softly when you let your head drop to the side, resting your temple against his. 
         “Yes, Thorn.” There was a pregnant pause, your brows pulling together when you swore you heard a muffle laugh through the channel. 
         “You, uh, wouldn’t happen to be in the opera house’s cupola, would you?” Thorn snickered. Your stomach plummeted to your feet while Fox stiffened behind you. There was no denying it since Fox’s cock was still buried inside you. You tilted your head down, searching for a few dots of red in the sea of creatures, easily finding them near the opera house’s entrance. 
         “No,” Fox replied stiffly, only making the situation worse.
         “Oh really?” a slightly different voice huffed. You glanced to the side, arching a brow in question. Fox rolled his eyes but mouthed, Stone, before returning his attention back to the comm. 
         “Heya, senator!” Thorn shouted. You only knew it was him because just as the greeting came through, you saw one of the dots with more red paint raise an arm, waving it wildly.
         “How’d you know?” Fox grumbled, sounding close to pouting in your opinion.
         “We can see your shadows, shit for brains,” Thorn wheezed, barely getting his sentence out between fits of laughter. 
         “Go do your fucking jobs,” Fox snapped, punching the button to end the call a little too hard. You had managed to keep a straight face throughout the call but you were steadily losing the battle against laughter. “I’m glad you find it funny.”
         “I’m surprised you don’t,” you giggled, lightly resting your head against his temple. Fox huffed and hid his face against your shoulder, faintly shaking his head. 
         “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” he groaned, mindlessly squeezing your fingers that were still intertwined with his.
         “About getting caught,” you wondered, letting a smirk pull at the corner of your mouth, “or how hot it looked from their perspective?” Fox sounded defeated as he brought your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 
         “Both.” 
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Taglist: @techs-feral-wife​ (thank you for your help too Max ❤️)
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yuesgirlfriend · 7 months
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of birds and honey
(simon "ghost" riley x reader) medieval AU
part 1/part 2/part 3
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warnings: canon typical violence, masturbation (afab)
A week passes without much happening.
Excitement over new knights has died down, and the people go back to their regular routine. Wool is spun, gardens are weeded, new straw with sweet smelling sprigs of rosemary is spread over the floor. Peasants in distant fields begin planting and tilling as spring slowly settles into the dreary air. 
 She feigns reading when her father discusses defenses with the Knight Commander Price, hears gossip of French ships breaching southern shores by the kitchens, and overhears one of the knights (Garrick, she heard his name was) express worry about leaked battle plans and French spies. 
She does not see the man called Ghost again, until one afternoon she is practicing embroidery while balanced on a windowsill overlooking the courtyard. 
Shouts sound out from down below- when she glances down, a small crowd has gathered around two figures circling eachother.  
She rushes to the scene when sounds of steel striking steel begin to ring out. Down the stairs, past the hall, through the kitchens, and there he is- Ghost- swinging a blade towards another knight.
 A duel, a duel! Sir Graves and the Ghost!
Says one of the stable boys as the other man- Graves- dodges another strike. She pushes her way to the front of the crowd, needing to see every line of Ghost’s armored body as he grunts and dodges. He moves like he is dancing, brutal and calculated. 
Duels are vicious, bloody ordeals- very few have ever happened under her fathers watch, the clergy under his thumb finding the merciless bloodshed godless. But now her father watches from his balcony as Ghost parries Graves thrust and, with one fluid motion, takes his head. 
Something wet and warm splatters across her face. She doesn’t flinch. 
While Ghost holds the mans head by the helmet and roars warnings of what happens to traitors to the rest of the watching, silent knights and crowd of stunned servants, she stares at the red hot blood splattered across her shoes and silken surcoat and tries to put a name to the feeling coiling in her stomach. 
The sky is streaked with red as the run sets into the horizon, as if God saw the blood in the courtyard and took inspiration. Every sound and color seems muted, unable to break through the buzzing in her ears. She spends the rest of the evening picking flecks of blood off her face, feigning a headache and skipping dinner. 
Her hands don’t stop shaking, and she’s filled with the need to run, to move. Once the sun sets, she slinks out of her room. Favoring the shadows and moving only when sentries are turned away, she makes her way to the highest peak of outer wall. The stars peek over the horizon, the moon hanging above them like a pearl. 
A shiver runs through her when her eyes land on the hulking form standing over the parapet. She moves on soundless, slippered feet towards him. 
“Lady.” He says as if in greeting. How he heard her, she’ll never know. 
“It must be true, what the cook says.” She steps up beside him, overlooking the dark his surrounding the castle, the plains muddled together under the blanket of night. 
“And what is that?” His voice is gruff, his hood up over his masked face. 
“That you have got eyes in the back of your head.” 
That’s the abridged version of what the cook had said; she had overheard the old man telling the maids of rumors he had heard- that the Ghost was the spawn of the devil, a witches son, a biblically deformed creature hiding 9 eyes and countless heads beneath the mask.
Something vindictive and admittedly childish had rose up in her and led to her placing several handfuls of nettles in the cooks bed. 
She refused to feel guilty, even when she spotted the irritated welts on the mans skin the next day- was it not the prophet Amos who said to let justice roll on like a river, and righteousness like a never-failing stream? 
He lets out a huff. Something tells her this is as close to a laugh as he will give her. For a long moment, there is only silence broken by the occasional scurry of a rat, as they stand watching the night where it’s unfolded before them. 
“There’s a storm on it’s way, lady.” His gloved fingers tighten where they grip the stone. She wishes he would turn, so she could see his eyes. “It’d be wise if your father sent you somewhere far.”  
“I’m stronger than I seem- have faith, I can weather any storm, sir. And the stronghold is well defended.” 
“‘S not the stronghold I worry about. It’s the people.” Finally, he turns to face her- in the moonlight, his eyes look like moons themselves, haloed by a dark night of greasepaint. 
“Be careful who you trust, lady.” In one fluid motion, he takes off his cloak and wraps it around her shoulders before bodily turning her away. “Get back inside. You’re father would have my head if I let ya freeze.” 
She follows his orders without question. Maybe he really is a witches son,  she thinks as she slinks back into her quarters. 
The fire is nothing more than a collection of dim coals, now. Wrapping the Ghost’s cloak tighter around herself, she tosses another log onto the fire and crawls into her bed. 
The feeling from earlier that day is back- the tensing, the coiling in her stomach, the heat in her abdomen as if someone is churning her chest over hot coals. Usually venturing out at night cures her of this incessent, shaky need to move, but this time, it had only exacerbated it. 
Squirming around, she buries her nose in his cloak. Ghost’s cloak. It smells of lye soap, wood ash, cold night air.  
Some kind of hot and heavy pressure hangs in her stomach- her thighs rub together, twisted around her sheet, and that seems to help for a moment, but then it gets worse. 
Without thinking, she sends a trembling hand down between her legs- to her womanhood, as her old governess would have said- and adds more pressure. And, oh-  that is new.
She hesitantly moves this wetness around, up and down, until her back arches off the mattress, until she masters this new feeling and she has to bury her moans in the rough frabric of Ghost’s cloak.
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masked-fools · 7 months
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❝ your old buddy sampo is a model citizen these days. y'know the guards on sentry duty in the restricted zone? i deliver their breakfast every day! ❞
— Sampo Koski, ancient relic specialist
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Tavern Notice Board
28th of August — 3rd of September
(1) Flirty Pick-Up Lines [Gepard, Dan Heng, Welt] — @cnnmairoll
reader uses flirty pick up lines on them after getting into a relationship
(2) Just Don't Say Love [Blade] — @pyroxeene
he sought you out whenever the pain got too much to handle. he didn't want to know what that made you; feared the day you would ask him how he felt.
(3) Like Me Better [Dan Heng] — @eggluverz
you want to braid dan heng's hair and he wonders if you like him better in this form.
(4) Harmony In The Moonlight [Caelus] — @cnnmairoll
him serenading you outside your balcony
(5) The Sedative [Dan Heng] — @pyroxeene
after you got hurt in the battle on the xianzhou, the doctors need to do an endoscopy on you. still under the influence of the sedative when you wake up, you think it's a wonderful idea to call dan heng and make your feelings clear to him.
(6) Silver Tongue, Golden Heart [Sampo] — @cnnmairoll
with a naive reader who has a very positive image of him
(7) Something Shiny This Way Comes [Dan Heng] — @eggluverz
dan heng wants to face part of his past by walking around xianzhou luofu with you, but he freaks out when he notices you are no longer by his side.
(8) First Snow, New Hope [Pela, Bronya, Serval, Hook, Clara] — @leonistic
platonic headcanons of how you spend your winters with them in belobog
(9) Noodle [Dan Heng] — @generalsmemories
an evening of you getting familiar with dan heng's true form leads to the birth of an unique nickname - he doesn't complain though.
(10) I Had The Best Day With You Today [Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Heng, Gepard] — @particular-one
how they would plan + surprise you on your birthday.
(11) After All This Time [Dan Heng] — @eggluverz
you were the great imbibitor lunae's disciple. he trusted you with his life and you with his. but when the time came, you weren't able to save him. what happens when you run into his reincarnation years down the line?
(12) Love Bites [Blade, Jing Yuan] — @cnnmairoll
with a lover who's love language is biting
(13) Sparks Of Enthusiasm [Gepard, Tingyun, Welt] — @cnnmairoll
with a very energetic reader
(14) A Haven In Your Arms [Blade] — @bladesmuse
it is late, and you come home from your mission exhausted. thankfully, your doting boyfriend Blade is there to look after you.
(15) Bearing The Burden [Blade] — @cnnmairoll
reader is having a hard time due to challenging life circumstances and is incredibly stressed because of it, but is constantly putting on a brave face for blade
(16) The Moles' Beloved Miss [Luka] — @cnnmairoll
luka x fem!reader where luka sees reader taking care of the moles and he just gets this very homey and fluffy feeling within him
(17) Them Being Clingy [Sampo, Dan Heng] — @ryker-others
dan heng and sampo being clingy
(18) Waking Up At Night And You Aren't By His Side [Blade] — @milksnake-tea
when he wakes up in the middle of the night, and you aren't by his side. + "please, stay. just… stay."
(19) Finding My Voice With You [Jing Yuan] — @cnnmairoll
with a reader who often gets talked over and feels like their voice is annoying
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shadowscrybe · 20 days
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Rayven's Revenge- Chapter 1
Man I haven't made one of these posts in so long. Bear with me as I try to remember how to format this shit.
Summary: Rayven is the younger sister of Rhysand in the Night Court. She was banished 64 years ago for the murder of her sister. This is the story of Rayven earning her place in Prythian and finding out what it means to be family. We all know how her story ends...but how did she get there? I don't want to forget the demon princess with bat wings. Do you?
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: none-typical canon content
A/N: Uhhhhh. I have annoyed my friends talking about this fic for weeks and I think its time to start annoying all of you. I worked very hard on this, put my whole writussy into this, but feedback is always appreciated. This was mine for so long. Now its yours. Enjoy.
Morning light had begun to crest over the horizon when Rayven met with her returning shadow. Streams of warmth slipped in through the thin curtains of the small cottage, melting the coolness of the night off her wings. The long hours of the night had to be beautiful in the Night Court, but Rayven had found something special in witnessing its beauty while the rest of the court slept. The cottage she shared with her mother just outside of the Windhaven camp of Illyria was an inferior copy of the home her brother and his friends shared across the mountains decades ago in their youth, but it was the only home she knew. The Highlord had said it was more than the banished princess deserved. 
Rayven had the misfortune of being born a few decades after everything important, it seemed. She was a few decades short of her first hundred years, but that didn't matter to the boys- and especially not the Highlord- who would always see her as a young fae. The boys were completing their first full cycle the coming moon, and the bastards were getting their siphons later that week, something the Night Court heirs could covet together. 
The coming celebrations loosened her restraints with the Highlord and her presence in Velaris would be necessary for the next few weeks. Rayven was only to make appearances when it was appropriate for the court. The Highlord could only stomach the demon long enough for the required court affairs. When she wasn't galavanting at parties or silently simmering in council meetings, she was to remain in Illyria. 
Following the poorly executed coup Kallon’s lord and father organized, Rayven took Ironcrest as her own. If the Highlord wanted it back he was welcomed to try. She considered appealing to the Highlord to move closer to her camp, but her luck had been pushed and she enjoyed the flight across the other camps anyway. It kept her on top of the movements of the other camps, especially Windhaven. 
Her mother lived in Velaris by all official accounts, but after the boys finished their fifth decade, she found more and more reasons to be in Illyria. She didn't have daemati powers like Rhysand and Rayven, but she wouldn't have needed them to know the day would be hard for Rayven. It’d be hard for her mother too. 
Rayven focused her breathing as she straightened her leathers, hoping to the stars she strapped them correctly. She navigated the path up to her upper level balcony and stretched her wings in the open space. She loosely braided her dark hair down her back to give her nervous hands something to do. 
Her singular shadow, Rahne, returned from her morning scan of the camps, whispering about sentry positions, some kitchen gossip, but nothing out of the ordinary. 
She needed reports of her normal flight patterns to reach the boys in order to accomplish what she needed to do. Rahne had warned her a second too late when she had ascended her rail to plunge off the side of her nest when he appeared. 
“Going somewhere?” The shadowsinger said.
Rhane was quicker than his shadows, but his were silent. She raced the wing length between them to meet with his many shadows. 
Rayven groaned and fell off the side. He turned to level out as she caught a drift back up to him. His laugh carried over the wind. 
“Aren't we pleading our case to Devlon today, or did I get my dates mixed up again?” 
The rising sun kissed their wings in greeting. He’d at least let her fly to the Windhaven border. 
He allowed her a few strides before he said, “The Highlord asked that you stay here. It will be hard enough for us to convince him as is.”
‘Asked’ was a very nice way of putting it. 
The boys had lived a full human lifetime that lunar cycle, so they were certain they knew everything there was to learn and she was a naive first cycle fae. They were meeting with Devlon to discuss their participation in the Rite that spring. She’d been training alongside them nonstop for months. Rhys told her it was important for her to have the training regardless of her participation in the Rite. 
Of course, Devlon would never allow a female to participate. While Rhys had previously been denied for being a half-breed, as Devlon put it, he could still persuade the Lord of Windhaven. Rayven, on the other hand, had the misfortune of being a half-breed and a female. The worst crime to the Illyrian brutes with ways as archaic as the mountains surrounding them.
The drifted over the path to the camp only used by the clipped females. Rayven shuddered at the thought of losing her wings to these males. 
“Hey,” the shadowsinger said, as if he could hear her thoughts. “We’ll find another way.” The tip of his wing barely brushed against hers. She stopped the shiver in her shoulders. 
The males were always fighting over wingspan. They had more surface area, stronger for single thrust flight and carrying cargo, but the females were faster. Their wings were made for speed and agility. What took the males three muscle groups to turn on a pin, the females could do it with one. Sure, they were able to carry full grown males for miles, but the females were able to fly that same distance twice in the time it’d take them.
“Am I allowed to say it?” he asked. 
“No.”
He tried to brush her wings again, so she folded hers in and dropped, parachuting her wings out in the final descent to land her feet on the stony path. They were within a few minutes of Devlon’s council tent. 
“Why can't I go and beat some respect into that bastard?” she asked. 
“You know why,” he sighed into his landing. 
“The Highlord can make them submit and listen.” Her frustration began to manifest in her movements. Rahne started whispering calm over and over to her. “Hel, I could easily change their minds.” She wiggled her fingers at him. 
He rolled his eyes at the violence she suggested. “We’d lose every Illyrian allegiant we have,” he said. He was trying. Really trying. 
Tears welled in the demon’s eyes. “This is so stupid.” Her gaze was set in the direction of the tent she’d never be inside, knowing this was where he’d leave her. 
“We’ll find another way,” he repeated. The hand by his thigh tensed, and then he was stepping back to take off. 
“I’ll fill you in when I get back?” He spread his wings to depart. 
She took in the mass of the shadowsinger before her. Even without the siphon, he was truly something to be feared. 
She mumbled a fine and met his eyes. He jumped into flight, sending one shadow back to lick at her wet cheek.
“Gross,” she swatted it away and could almost hear its giggle as it returned to Azriel. 
She watched as he grew smaller in the distance, until finally, he winked out of eyesight. 
She wiped her eyes free of the crocodile tears and turned to her real destination. 
Dumbass, Rahne snickered, expanding for their departure. 
Rayven smiled at her little shadow, stepping through her dark threshold onto the crisp lawns of the Autumn Court. 
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courtofthrones · 9 months
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Pairing: Eris Vanserra x reader
Summary: What happens when two people who are the opposite ends of a thread of fate try to get the other end of the thread to burn knowing they would burn too. Because he was the throne but she will see the throne burn.
A/N: Feedback appreciated
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STAGE VI: BENEATH THE SKIN
"Where do you want me to put this my lady?"
"You can just leave it in my room Lyna."
After finally having some well deserved rest in the past few days, you watched the sentries and some of the Autumn princes spar with each other on the training grounds with a relaxed posture from your balcony. Though you couldn't help but notice the absence of your soon to be husband in the group. Well you couldn't be mad about it because being away from his smug but annoyingly attractive face and his infuriating behaviour these past few days have certainly made your day quite peaceful.
The morning atmosphere was bright but held its usual chill in the air.
Future Lady of the Autumn Court. It wasn't as though you hated it . Once it was all you had dreamt of . To marry and become a Lady who could work for her subjects. But over time and tribulations that little girl turned bitter from having her loving family torn apart. And marrying for political alliances into a family who could never get rid of the blood stains on their hands, did not sit right with you.
"Forgive me my lady but the Lady Aelia has asked you to join her for afternoon tea in her solar." Lyna spoke softly behind you in order to preserve the tranquility surrounding you.
"Is my mother going to be there Lyna?"
"No my lady her grace has only asked for your presence."
For the last few days the lady of autumn court, Lady Aelia Vanserra has extended her gracious invite to you and your mother to join her and other ladies of the court.
And unsurprisingly your mother has managed to turn every single conversation towards boasting about your pending nuptials in front the other ladies in waiting so may the mother forgive you if you wish to avoid her because of it. But it seems like Lady Aelia shares the same thought as you.
"Accompany me will you Lyna."
---
Making an exit from your room you followed Lyna into the open hallway. True to all its praises The Forest House was a sight to behold in the golden hues of the afternoon sunlight. Golden carpets made from the finest of materials lined the pathway.
As your nose took in the smell of sandalwood and burning wood, your eyes found themselves observing the numerous paintings nailed to the gilded walls. There between the paintings of life and death lay a family portrait of the High Family dating back to about 500 years.
You could gather that the painting was to commemorate the birth of the exiled prince of the court - Lucien Vanserra held by his mother with the High Lord sitting beside her. Behind him stood Eris Vanserra , your betrothed with a rehearsed smile on his face. Regal and youthful. Despite the appealing faces of the rest of the princes surrounding the High couple , your eyes found themselves incapable of straying from the captivating allure of your soon to be husband.
Your husband. You forced yourself to tear your eyes away at the thought. You turned to look for Lyna and continue your journey to your afternoon plans but had found yourself alone in a secluded part of the palace. Having been left behind as you admired the portraits, you took your steps forward.
"Is this what we are now?"
A hushed voice halted you in your path as you strained your ears to listen to the seemingly secret conversation wishing to gather any information that could be beneficial for your use.
"It does not have to be if you give me some time and space to set things right." came in reply by a deep positively masculine voice.
"Set things right? You mean give you time so that you can walk away towards the altar with Lady Tarsa of all people."
You knew that the other houses held no fondness for you but there was no reason why any of them should speak of you in such a manner.
"What would you have me do Alena? Run away with you ? Is that what you think is proper?"
At that you gasped, if it was Lady Alena Velon behind those walls then you had a pretty good guess who the male in question was.
"Would it be so bad to get away from all of this with me?"
"All of this? You mean my entire life ? Everything that I have endured for my end goal?"
At that a sob escaped her throat .
"Eris then what would you have me do? Stand by as you take that female with the traitor's blood as your wife?"
"Alena please don't cry it breaks my heart to see you like this. I wish I could do something about the engagement but father has all but declared his surety on the matter. I am sorry. I am sorry for the pain I have caused you. For what it's worth I would have loved to have you as my wife but this is something that is out of my control."
You scoffed at that. How lovely being painted as the wicked villain in their tragic love story. Typical.
As you leaned your head into the corner to catch a glimpse of their faces , you saw Eris lean in to capture her lips in a searing kiss as Alena leaned into his touch. Their kiss was fierce and loud as if they were about to go off to war. As if nothing mattered but them.
You were shocked and horrified at their lack of discretion. Disrespectful halfwits. Not a single thought about what could happen if they got caught in this compromising position.
You had to escape . But in your haste of wanting to get away as far as possible your hands bashed into a sculpture and knocked over a sculpture by the wall. You scrambled to prevent it from falling but the damage had already been done.
As you turned you saw Lady Alena and Eris looking at you as if all their nightmares had come true. But before anyone could utter a single word, Eris rushed towards you and dragged you into an empty room by the end of the hallway.
You snatched your arm free but before you could afford the luxury of putting some distance between your bodies, he pressed your back against the wall with his strong muscles. He was breathing heavily as he came to rest his arms beside both sides of your head. A cold and calculating expression staring back at you with his warm body pressing onto you.
He opened and closed his mouth a few times as if unable to settle upon the words he wanted to speak. But it didn't matter because his stupid excuses held no value for you.
"If you dare speak of what you saw- "
"Mother above. Spare me with your nonsense. Though I must applaud your audacity to treat me this way even after l hold your deepest secret to my heart." you spat out vexed by his actions.
"So what? Are you going to rat me out princess?" He gritted out , his composure slipping out of his control as he pressed himself closer to your body.
You were shaking in your knees but you could not afford showing your weak hand to Eris. You will never show him your weakness.
"I won't rat you out as you put it because I know it would only delight you having the engagement broken without you having to lift a finger."
Your body trembled as you tried to keep your anger at bay. You could feel your sharp nails digging crescents into your palms. Maintaining a calm countenance had always come to you as easily as breathing but something in Eris just managed to make you volatile.
" But you are so unfair my darling betrothed. I know this is not a love match but I at least expected you to keep your illicit affairs under wraps and not flaunt them in broad daylight. Well I suppose you need to have half a brain for that." you continued with a sharp grin adorning your face in order to not expose your true nervousness.
"Whatever could you mean ?" You watched as a vein twitched on his forehead. He was furious but had somehow managed to hold himself back.
You could barely gulp with how dry your throat had become. But with all the strength you could find in your voice you whispered out.
"What I mean to say your grace is that when I do bed another male I would not be as foolish as you to have my clandestine meetings out in the open for all to see."
You had no knowledge about how your faces had migrated closer to each other during the heat of the moment. Despite Eris' body heat pressing onto you due to the proximity a shiver slithered down your spine and with a hairsbreadth between your lips he whispered
"Is that a threat Tarsa?"
"No, it's a promise Vanserra."
You watched as fire stirred beneath his gaze as if trying to breach his carefully crafted mask. You watched as his gaze moved towards your lips. You watched as his lips-
"My lady I have been looking for- Oh forgive me my lord I did not know i was intruding."
It would have shocked you less if someone doused you with a bucket of ice water than Lyna's intrusion. He flinched away from you as if he would burn merely by touching you.
"Pardon me my lady I will be in the hallway if you need me."
"No, let us go."
You needed to escape. Escape before you did something that you would truly come to regret.
Grabbing Lyna's hand you rushed out of the room without even sparing a single glance at Eris.
----
"Does something bother you y/n?"
A shudder fluttered to the tips of your body as Lady Aelia's question pulled you away from thoughts of closed rooms and smoke and honey lined red hairs.
"It is nothing that should worry you your grace I was merely lost in thoughts about my wedding preparations." you somehow managed to utter with performative excitement coating your voice.
"Oh yes how are they coming along. I actually invited you to tea today to ask if there was anything you needed help with."
Her hand flexed as she lifted the cup to her lips.
"You are too kind your grace."
The Lady Aelia of Autumn screamed of elegance and royalty. Through your life you had met her only a handful of times but everytime she managed to leave you starstruck with her beauty. Many saw her as this quiet and submissive wife but with a bit of closer inspection you saw a woman hardened by the years she lived as Beron Vanserra's wife and lady of the court. With her regal beauty and resilient nature she truly was the Lady of the court.
"Oh none of that you can refer to me as your mother y/n. " Over the chirping of birds, she chuckled softly.
"So have you and Eris managed to have some time to know each other?"
The sudden question regarding the root of all your musings stunned into silence and the ever so quick eye of the Lady of Autumn managed to pick up on it.
"Y/n I can tell this marriage is not your first choice and I see questions in your eyes so trust me when I say that I know how painful this is." she continued her dulcet voice managing to lull you into a sense of security.
"So you must speak your mind."
You put your cup down as you sat up straight to stare into her eyes.
" I am afraid that is a luxury that I cannot afford mother. Sitting here with you had already managed to seal my mouth shut."
If your words managed to put her off she did not show it.
"We can pretend that all is good but it would not erase the decades of bad blood within our houses. It cannot undo all the sufferings we had to endure and it cannot restore my family back. So I hope you do not find me brazen when I say that I cannot fathom why I have to enter into a marriage with a family that brought the doom upon us."
Lady Aelia eyes sparkled at your words.
"Tell me something dear do you think your brother was right in his actions?"
Your jaw dropped for a moment. Was this some sort of trial? To test your loyalty to the throne. But her countenance held no animosity rather only plain curiosity.
So with all the courage you could muster you simply replied, "I believe he did the right thing."
"And I believe so too little dove."
You forgot yourself for a moment with her words.
"But I also believe we had no choice in our actions too. He saw something wrong and opposed the throne but it also caused unrest in the people in a sensitive time and we as the high family had to put an end to it. So believe me when I say this y/n you could do so much for the people if you are in power than what you do when you are a rebel."
You knew that she held no love for the High Lord. You were not deaf to the whispers regarding Lucien Vanserra and his parentage. But one thing stuck with you.
"Do you think of me being capable of revolting against the court?"
At that she smiled. Razor sharp. And you saw the true strength and cunning beneath her slip out a little.
" I think you are the poster child of a rebel. You certainly have the motive and fire for it but do you know what makes you different little dove?"
She paused a moment as if letting you agonize over the words.
"You also have what it takes to be a Queen."
66 notes · View notes
bebepac · 11 months
Text
Garden Party Photo Op
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I am participating in @choicesflashfics prompt “ Say that again.... I don’t think I heard you right the first time which will appear in bold
I am also participating in @choiceschallenge-may2023  prompt for vacation.
Without further Ado and it’s been a long time coming since the last update on this series The Life of Riley Book 2:  This is chapter 8 in this series.   
This chapter also contains a companion chapter in Heroes and Villians  called Arch Nemesis
The Book: TRR
The Pairings: Liam x Riley
Rating:  PG
Warnings:  Adult Language
Word Count: 2428
Mood Music Monday Submisson: "When You Believe"  by Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey
Summary:  Riley  attends a garden party with a challenge involved to see who will be crowned Cordonia’s Most Photogenic Couple, the prize a weekend vacation to Greece.
Original Post: 05/14/23  at 7:14PM EST. 
A/N: As mentioned any chapter of Life of Riley carrying this callsign 
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will have a companion chapter in Heroes and Villains.  The chapters will be similar in plot, but different subjects and perpectives will be focused on, the two chapters together tell a complete story from different vantage points. 
AN2:  I hadn’t planned on updating LOR yet, but I did get a request from the lovely @queenwalton​ as she is a fan of this story line, and it’s a late birthday gift.  So happy belated birthday friend, late but I made it. LOL. 
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She smiled when she woke up, stretching out her body while still nestled in the soft plush covers and mattress that felt like she was sleeping on clouds.   Opening her eyes, she glanced around the ornately decorated room. Waking up there every morning, always felt like she was in a dream.  She jumped up, from her bed running  over to the balcony, throwing open the doors, as if she expected the gardens below not to be visible.
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  But it was, every single morning.  She had been in Cordonia a little more than three weeks; the ending of the second week at the palace where she was participating in Prince Liam’s social season.  She was living her own Cinderella story thanks to the crown prince of Cordonia Liam Rys, who after spending the night with her in New York, asked her to come visit him in Cordonia for a week, and then asked her to stay. Now this was her life. 
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Balls and garden parties, and vying for the hand of a Prince that honestly had already made her life different, and she hadn’t even said the words “I do” yet.
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Riley Brooks was not the only one living their own Cinderella story that had Liam to thank.  A young Nicolas Karahalios had everything he owned packed in a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and was standing at the palace gates waiting for entry to live at the palace for the duration of his training. This was different. Previously he was only visiting the palace for training,  now he would be actually staying on site.
“State your full name, and what your business is at the palace.”  
“Karahalios, Nicolas A. I’m beginning level two training for the Kingsguard.”  
The sentry took out a clip board and scrolled through the names.  Nico sighed in relief when the guard picked up a pen and checked his name off the list.
“You're early. Head through those double doors there to take your photo for your level two identification, and from there, you’ll go to uniforms for your cadet training attire.”
“Thank you.”
“Good luck, kid.”  The guard nodded to him, opening the gate.  
“Thank you, Sir!”  Nico slid the strap of his bag up higher on his shoulder and stood in amazement as the palace gates opened for him. He took a deep breath and stepped forward.
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Nico was officially one step closer to becoming a part of the KingsGuard.  Nico stood tall in front of the wall with the Cordonian Crest
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 to take his photograph for his badge.
“Look straight ahead.”  The person instructed him.  Nico smiled.
“Don’t smile in this photo.”
“Oh, sorry.”    
Nico quickly made his face serious and level once more.
“Your badge will be ready in a few minutes.  Since you were the first one here, it won’t be so long,  you can go to uniforms and get settled in, in the cadet dorm, and  don’t look so shell shocked.  You made it this far.”  
“Thank you sir.”  
When Nico finally made it to the cadet dorms, he finally decided to call his mother.
“I made it mama! I’m the first one here.”  
He panned his phone around the room. The first side of the room housed the bunks for sleeping,  the other side  had furniture,  desks, and a huge wide screen television.  
“This is nicer than where you were previously sharing an apartment.”
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“And Mama, when I become a guard, I’ll have my own quarters here, in the palace.”
“You can do it Nico.  I know you can.  Thank you for the money you’ve been sending us.  I was able to get Athena a beautiful dress for graduation.”  
“You don’t have to thank me for that, Mama.  It’s what I’m supposed to do.  I’ll be able to take care of you someday.”
“You already do that Nico.  I’m proud of you.”  
“Thank you Mama.  I’ve got to go now , some of the other cadets are here now.”
“And you can't be on the phone with your mother, I understand.”  She chuckled softly.
“It's not that. I love you mama.”  
“Go make friends. I love you too, my sweet little Dianooúmenos." (Egghead)
Nico laughed,
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 "Goodbye Mama." disconnecting the call.
His mother didn’t realize this was serious, that no one would really be making friends.   People wanted positions in the guard, and everyone had legacy advantages but him.  He was considered to be the outsider that didn’t belong;
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 the only one who didn’t treat him that way was Demitri who preferred to be called Dima for short. Dima was the closest person to a friend he had of the cadets.  Nico had already claimed a top bunk for himself. Dima decided on the one next to him. Nico worked twice as hard as the others, and Dima was at his heels.
After Nico had unpacked, he changed into his workout clothes.
“What are you about to do?”  
“Take a run around the wall.”  (The Palace perimeter)
“Want company?”  
“Sure.”  
As they walked out of the dormitory room, Dima looked at him.  
“You know, you’re not the only one with something to prove, Nico.”
“Say that again... I don’t think I heard you right the first time.”
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“It’s easy to ride on someone’s coattails, but making your own path is a lot more difficult.  More people should try it.  You and I are really more alike than we are different, you know.”
“Good to know.”  
Riley
“Come in Maxwell!”  Riley said when she heard his knock.  
Maxwell smiled as he walked through the door.
“You know, we have to stop meeting this way.”  
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Maxwell laughed  but the door remained open for Bertrand to walk through.   Riley tried to hide her annoyance.
“Yes Bertrand, what did I do wrong now?”  
He looked her over.  
“Nothing that I can tell as of yet, but you did just wake up, which already means you have a late start.”  
“Still getting used to the time difference.”  
“That didn’t matter last night when you were at the dive bar drinking with Drake Walker acting like you’re still a college student.”  
“You’re acting like Maxwell wasn’t there too.”
“Little Blossom! Way to throw me under the bus!”
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“I feel like I'm the only one taking this whole arrangement seriously, keeping you two in check is like herding cats.”  
“Meow.”  
Maxwell chuckled.  
“Do not encourage her Maxwell.”  
“Don’t encourage me Maxwell. You know how that antagonizes him.”  Riley imitated Bertrand’s voice.   Bertrand eyed her, shaking his head.  
“Today’s itinerary is simple.  You will be having lunch in the garden.   All suitors must wear white dresses for the suitor photo shoot.”
“Good thing I’m not surfing the crimson wave this week.”
“The crimson what?  Lady Riley if you are referring to feminine concerns…”  
“Or the monthly monster.”  
“RAWR!!!!!!”  Maxwell yelled, causing the both of them to break out into fits of giggles.
“You two!!! Stop it! I mean it.”  
Maxwell cleared his throat.
“We are very sensitive to those types of things, right Bertrand?  It’s a part of life women must deal with.”    
“This is true Lady Riley, if there is anything you need in that department,  I’m sure Maxwell can handle that for you.”
Bertrand straightened his tie taking  a deep breath to continue his conversation.
“Getting back on task, the purpose of the suitor photo shoot is to upload your candid photo with Prince Liam to the Crown’s social media website so the people can be part of the voting for Most Photogenic Couple.  You need to head to your appointment in the boutique.”
“It’s not needed, I have a  dress for the event, Bertrand.”
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Betrand laughed out loud.  
“With all due respect Lady Riley, I’ve looked at your social media, and I seriously doubt anything you brought from New York with you, when you were and I quote ‘living my best life YOLO club hopping with my bae’  would hardly suffice for a upscale luncheon with His Royal Highness and the King and Queen. Maxwell, talk some sense into her.”  
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Once Bertrand had left, Maxwell peered at Riley.
“Little Blossom….”  
“Trust me Maxwell, I have the perfect dress for the garden party.  I just need to get a steamer, and I can steam it myself to remove any wrinkles it has. I promise, I will look amazing.”
“I trust you.”  
Even though Liam had offered the Beaumonts funding for Riley’s social season expenses, she always felt if she could avoid spending Liam’s money, she would.  She did have the perfect dress.  It  was snow white and ethereal, gently clung to her curves in the right places, and flowy in all the others. Once steamed and after she had straightened her hair but used her curling iron to create loose waves.  Since it was almost time for her next batch of white roses from Liam to be delivered, she decided to use the current ones to make a garland of roses for her hair, making sure she saved one for something special for Liam. She wanted the whole world to know that she belonged there too.
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Liam was absolutely awestruck when he saw her walking towards the party, heading in her direction, him stopping her at  the garden archway.  
The way he stared at her made her feel special and desired.  Liam never gazed at anyone with the level of intention in his eyes.  
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After speaking for a few minutes, and the Prince pulling her close to him for a few moments, she continued on to the gardens,  meeting up with Hana first.  
“I’m so glad you’re here Lady Riley.”
“You know me,  fashionably late but always in fashion.”  Riley giggled. “I really like your dress.”
“Yours too! Where did you get it?  There was nothing like it in the boutique.”  
“It’s actually a dress I brought here from home.”
“It’s really pretty, I would have never known. You’ll have a really pretty picture with Prince Liam, with your dress and hair blowing in the wind.”  
“That’s the plan!”  
“Shall we go and grab a seat?”  
“Lets, my dogs are barking!”
“Okay Penelope.” Hana commented with a giggle.
As they turned  to take the first steps to start heading towards the suitor’s table, Olivia passed in front of Riley stepping on her foot.
Riley could not contain the curse words that tumbled from her mouth.  She was afterall A New Yorker through and through.  She was able to use curse words just as fragrant as a painter could make a picture on canvas come to life.  
“And that’s why you should be wearing heels and not dollar store sandals.”  
Riley decided not to engage the Scarlet Diva anymore at that moment, but the reckoning was coming.  She had to wait a bit for the crowd to calm down and It was time for lunch, and time for a little payback.  
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She decided to survey the serving tables before she enacted her revenge, and let’s be for real, Olivia had it coming.  Riley strategically started heaping food on her plate in a haphazard fashion.  Anything soupy with a sauce made it to her plate, and to drink? The biggest glass she could find was filled to the brim with red wine.  
Target acquired.  Riley made her way back to her seat with her plate that was heaping with food and her larger than life glass of red wine, when she passed by Olivia, she feigned slipping dropping the glass of wine over her head.  
Direct Hit!
“Whoops!”  Riley exclaimed.
Olivia gasped, jumping up, grabbing her arm.  Riley again slipped as if the ground where the wine had fallen off of Olivia had made the grass slippery and her plate of food somehow left her hands, landing all over Olivia’s dress.  
Flawless Victory!
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“My apologies, Duchess Olivia!!!!  It looks like I got your whole dress there. Clumsy me!!!”
She leaned into  Olivia with a smirk.  “Must be those cheap dollar store sandals not providing much traction on the grass.”
The Scarlet Duchess’s face was in fact scarlet and she left the garden party humiliated.  
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Riley went back in line and got her actual plate of food, finally making it to her place next to Hana once more.
Hana’s eyes were wide and unblinking.  “I really wasn’t expecting you to do that. But I’m glad you did.  She gets away with so much, I’m glad you stand up to her and for yourself.”
“Don’t let her.  All of you guys could stand up for yourselves too, and not let her get away with the things she does.”  
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“That’s just not how it’s done here.”  
“Well, it is now.”
Riley glanced across the way, Liam was smiling, shaking his head at her.  Riley smiled back, shrugging her shoulders resulting in Liam’s smile to widen even more.  
Photo Op Time
As Liam posed and took pictures with the other suitors, there were some nice photos in the bunch but they all lacked something special.  Riley went last, and as she walked in the Prince’s direction 
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his smile brightened and his eyes twinkled. His world stopped.
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“Natural chemistry has  finally entered the chat.”  
Riley fell into a deep curtsy looking up at Liam as she held out one of the roses she had clipped. 
“A matching rose for you Your Highness for your lapel, for our picture together.”  
“That’s a lovely gesture Lady Riley.”  
After placing the rose, Riley straightened it.  “Perfect.”
Riley faced the Prince for her photo as all the suitors before had done.  But once their eyes met, there was no denying the electric sexually charged energy of the two together.  Neither heard the snap of the camera until Ana De Luca spoke.
“Wow, that was a great picture, but I don’t think the people are ready for a photo with this much raw heat to it.”  
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“I request a copy of that one Ana.”
She nodded.  “You two don’t even need to face each other to create chemistry, it happens on its own.”  
Before Ana could actually direct them Liam and Riley fell into a pose different from all the suitors before.  
“There it is.   Perfect.  This picture displays " The Royal Romance.”  
All the suitors' pictures with Liam were touched up and uploaded to the Crown’s social media website for voting.  
Riley’s picture with Liam won by a landslide, meaning she would be going to Greece with Liam; the man she loves. The girl that had come from lowly beginnings being adopted, and losing everything she had to  meeting a kind attractive stranger was now around the world getting stamps on a passport she never thought she would fill, living her best life.
Cinder - fucking - rella  in the house or should we say castle?
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Just Breathe....
77 notes · View notes
drenchedfireworks · 6 months
Text
Of Stolen Moments
Helion X Lady of the Autumn
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One of the thousands of stolen moments between Helion and Lady of the Autumn before Under The Mountain.
Word Count: 3.2K
Mostly unedited.
Rhysand is purple (obvs) and Helion is orange.
###
Helion picked another flute of champagne from the passerby waiter, his third one in ten minutes.
In his defense, it took much, much more to get him tipsy and Cauldron be damned, he was trying to get there.
Coming to the Autumn Court always had that effect on him. Beron loved throwing lavish parties the week of his birthday and while all the HighLords were invited to stay the entire week, by some unspoken agreement everyone only arrived on the eve of his birthday and left the next morning.
This year, Helion had been tempted to pull lots and the whichever poor minister of his pulled the shortest end of the stick would have attended as a representative. The idea was vetoed and he had been sent to the hellish court to participate in the even more hellish celebrations anyway. The only saving grace was the fact that it was a masquerade theme which meant Helion had all the reason to not have to greet Beron and simply blame it on the fact that he hadn't recognized him under the masks.
And Helion was going to stick to his story even if it was crystal clear who Beron was considering he sat on a freaking dais, all alone.
Finishing the contents of his champagne flute in one go, Helion was about to go for another one when a whiskey glass was placed in his palm instead.
If he was dressed like the Sun, all whites and golds with the matching white mask with its gold undertone and threads, Rhysand was dressed like his night counterpart. Decked out completely in black with silver linings in his jacket and a midnight black mask resting on his face outlined in silver that was only found on starlight.
"Stop playing safe sober games and drink up"
Helion chuckled, raising his glass to that and throwing it back in one gulp. Rhys grinned, tipping his own glass in cheers before he, too, finished his drink in one go.
"Can you believe this pretentious party?"
Rhys shot him a look, easy to decipher despite the mask he was wearing. "You think this is the only pretentious party we attend in one year?"
"You're right. Tamlin's are just as awful"
Rhys laughed sardonically before making a shuddering gesture "Somehow they are even worse. It's like an invite for pollen fever"
"Where is your lovely cousin?" Helion asked, eyes roaming around like he was searching for a blonde and not trying to avoid looking at a certain redhead.
"With Vivianne" Rhys jut his chin in the direction of where Morrigan and Vivianne were standing next to an exasperated Kallias who rolled his eyes behind his mask exaggeratedly when he found the two Highlords looking at him.
"Think you can take Morrigan away for enough time to let Kallias grab a dance with the girl he swears he's not in love with?" Helion snickered, flagging down a waiter carrying champagne.
"I can also keep an eye on Beron for enough time so you can do what you actually came here for"
Helion paused in the act of taking a sip, slanting a look to the Highlord of the Night Court who casually picked off a piece of non-existent lint off his jacket.
"And what might that be, dear Rhysand?"
"Don't insult my intelligence by pretending to be obtuse, Helion" Rhys smiled, feline-like. "This is the only bracket you might get, don't waste it"
"Who is to say where she is and how many sentries surround her?" Helion gritted out, despite his better judgement.
Rhys smiled, patted him on the shoulder and made his way toward Kallias. Helion watched him go, turned the other way and made his way deeper into the crowd.
On the East Wing, on the 2nd floor, last room. Shares a balcony with the adjacent one. You'll have a ten minute window to slip into that room. I'll let you know if Beron so much as shifts in his seat.
Helion smiled, a secret one. I owe you one.
Stop bothering Cassian and Azriel for a threesome.
Aw, Rhysie, jealous? You can join us too.
Don't forget to put up wards.
Helion made sure he was in Beron's line of sight as he danced with a curvaceous red-head, running hands all over her too-eager intoxicated body. A few minutes of dilly-dallying and then he was leading her into a corridor, through a silent hallway and away from the festivities till they finally encountered an empty bedroom. To her credit, she tried her hardest to pull him in but Helion sent a silent apology to her as he put her under a sleeping spell, warded that room so no one could enter and silently made his way to the other side of the mansion.
Glamouring himself as he passed Autumn Court sentries so no one would recognize him, Helion made it to the East Wing in record time. When he reached the second floor, however, his steps slowed. One of the sentries turned to him, head lolled at an uncomfortable angle, looking at him as if he was seeing right through him. Helion slipped into the adjacent room.
He made quick work of climbing over the balcony into the adjacent room's. Wards, he told himself as he silently put those up. He couldn't trust himself to remember to put those up after he laid eyes on her. Wasn't sure he'd remember to do anything.
Unlocking the balcony door, he stepped inside the candlelit room just as she stepped in through the connecting doorway.
Their eyes met and for a moment, the world went still. Her breath caught, he could hear it, her hand flying to her chest.
"You shouldn't be here-" She started toward him the same time he moved toward her.
"Seraphina" He breathed, one second before her mouth was on his and he was kissing her for all the years spent apart, all the yearning.
Her hands were in his hair, pulling him closer as he ran his hands over everywhere he could touch, trying to familiarize himself with her all over again, worried that this was one of his cruel nightmares where she'd disappear come morning.
"Helion-" She whispered, but Helion didn't stop kissing her to give her a chance to say more "Helion-" She tried again, but he took that chance and plunged his tongue in her mouth, the force of the kiss making her knees weak and his arms around her body the only thing keeping her up "Heli-" She gave up, kissing him back with all the desperation she felt.
"Sera" He breathed, moving from her lips to her cheeks, her nose, eyes, forehead and jaw, anywhere he could reach to kiss her, hands in her hair and around her waist and on her back, scared their time would be up.
"What are you doing here?" And it broke his heart to see she looked worried not for what Beron might do if he found her with another man but for him.
"Ten years" He cupped her face, bringing his forehead down to hers "Ten years I've dreamt of holding you in my arms again" She was crying before he was done talking but so was he.
"You shouldn't be here. He- He can't find you"
Wrapping his arms around her, Helion picked her up and carried her to the bed "I know" He said, sitting on the edge and bringing her down on his lap.
She took his face in her hands, lovingly running her fingers over his cheeks and lips, his eyebrows, the slant of his nose before she moved in to kiss him again "How I've missed you"
And it was as if they couldn't stand to stay clothed for one more second as Helion began undoing her robe and she was pulling at his tunic, while he kissed a path down her throat, biting and nibbling against the skin knowing he'd have to heal it before he left. Knowing she'd have to mask his scent before Beron came to check on her.
Realizing they didn't have that much time to waste, Helion simply loosened his pants, pulling his cock out and positioned himself below her.
"Sera, are you sure?"
She leaned in once and kissed him "Give me all of you, Helion"
Driving into her to the hilt in one go, Helion bit her shoulder to hold in the roar that was building at the base of his throat. Her breath had caught and her legs were trembling but the scent of her arousal was thick in the air, mixing with his own.
He gave her a moment to adjust "I've missed you so much" Helion was soothing the spot he'd bit on with his tongue "This is not how I wanted to do it. I want to do it right, Sera"
"We don't have that time, Helion" Tears were forming in her eyes and the string around his chest tightened, pulling taut against his ribs "But we will" She kissed his brow "And when we do, we will do all of it right" Moving her hips, she pulled a groan of long-suffering from him as he started to move inside of her slowly.
"You feel so good" Helion gritted out, his pace quickening, his movements feral and his thrusts almost animalistic. He was tapping into his beast side, using centuries of his training to hold off on shooting into her like he was a pubescent teenager. She met him for every thrust, arms wrapped tightly around him, lips hovering over his own as her breaths shortened.
"Helion.." Her fingernails were digging into his shoulder "Helion, I'm so…so.." The rest of her words dissolved into a moan that Helion swallowed as he kissed her, his tongue plunging into her mouth in sync with his thrusts.
Holding her by her thighs, Helion made quick work of picking her up and flipping them over. Bringing her ankles over on his shoulders, he was enveloped completely in her warmth, her walls impossibly tight around him and driving him half mad. Wrapping her arms around him again, she brought him down to kiss her as his movements turned frantic, one hand on her belly where he could feel himself inside her.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful" Biting her jaw, his movements turning frantic as he reached a hand between them, rubbing circles on her clit as she whimpered. Helion gritted out "Come for me, Sera" He was kissing her, speaking against her lips, one hand pulling on her nipple peeking out of her robe "Come for me, love"
And she did. Legs trembling, shivering and shaking, Helion swallowed her scream as he kissed and fucked her through her orgasm, his fingers working her up all over again till the tears in her eyes were those of pleasure and she was chanting his name like a prayer.
Helion pretended not to notice the glow of his skin, the string that was pulling uncomfortably inside his chest, groaning while he held himself back as Seraphina moaned loudly, her eyes rolling back in her head.
"Please..please…HelionHelionHelionHelion- oh my-" She was already coming a second time and this time Helion detonated with her, shooting into her without stopping, pulling back only to watch his own cum dripping down her legs mixed with her own. Gathering all of it, he pushed it back into her pussy as he pulled out, a whimper escaping her at the loss.
Helion leaned in to kiss her “I’m kidnapping you” He whispered against her lips, something he’d been saying for decades, trying to get her to agree to disappear with him.
Shaking her head, Seraphina rested her forehead against his “I can’t leave my sons alone with him..he treats them horribly as it is” At that she broke down, sobbing in earnest as he held her, running his fingers through her hair and pulling her against his chest.
“And you?” Helion managed to ask, his eyes catching the bruising against her arms where her robe sleeves had fallen back. Eyes narrowing on them as Seraphina quickly covered them “I’m going to kill him”
“No, Helion” She brushed her fingers against his face as if she, too, was memorizing his face for she didn’t know how long it would be before they got a chance to be together again.
“Mate, Sera” His voice broke, catching at the word “You’re my mate” Her eyes closed as if the reminder pained her, shoulders shaking with silent sobs “I will adopt all your sons if that’s what it takes”
Helion.
Ignoring Rhysand’s voice in his head, Helion took both of her hands in his “Say yes and you don’t have to suffer at his hands for a second longer”
Seraphina pulled her hands back, crying against his shoulder “You should go, Helion. P-Please” But she was kissing him, her actions a complete contrast to her words.
“Sera-”
Helion, Beron’s sentries are alert.
“Go” Wiping at her tears, she stood up, putting much needed distance between them "And thank Rhysand for me"
“Sera- please”
Beron seems to be looking for you.
She turned her back to him, like she had done countless times “I-" She began, considered her words “I-It’s not the time..b-but-” She peeked over her shoulder at him “Please wait for me?”
He was hugging her then, wrapping all of himself around her as he buried his face in her hair “Forever. I will wait another millenia just for you”
Helion. Beron is leaving the banquet hall.
“I have to go” He murmured and she nodded, refusing to watch him go or her control would snap “Stay safe, please take care..I-I’ll try to come back soon” With one last squeeze, he let her go, turning around and leaving immediately or he’d have been tempted to follow through with his earlier plan of kidnapping the Lady of another court as he removed the wards, wiped her room clean of his scent.
Helion, where the fuck are you?
Out.
By out he meant jumping the two floors down from the balcony, so distracted that he had no time to smoothen the fall and dropped straight into a bush, the poor plant flattening under him. Helion had no time to complain, making his way hastily toward the banquet hall hoping he didn’t encounter the birthday boy. For Seraphina’s sake more than his own.
His escape was going successfully until he ran straight into another problem. More like the problem ran into him.
The youngest Vanserra scowled up at the Highlord of the Day Court, rubbing against his forehead where he had accidentally collided with Helion’s side.
Crouching down to reach his level, Helion held an arm out to inspect the damage “Does it hurt a lot?”
“Even if it does, as the Highlord with healing abilities, shouldn’t you be able to soothe it?”
Helion opened his mouth, closed it, utterly and completely speechless before he threw his head back and laughed “Listen here, boy, I’m Helion Spell-Cleaver, Highlord of the Day Court”
“And?”
“And?” Helion gaped “You are talking about Thesan”
“You’re not Thesan?”
“Ofcourse not. Having even 1/4th of my looks would be a blessing for him”
The youngest Vanserra looked unimpressed “Atleast he doesn’t announce himself with a title” he muttered.
Helion blinked, realizing that the little boy who hardly looked to be 8-9 years old, had known who he was this whole time “Who are you?”
At that, the little boy jut his chin out, his aristocratic nose high in the air as he replied “Lucien Vanserra, son of Beron, Highlord of the Autumn Court”
Helion smiled at the arrogance that looked like it was hereditary in the Vanserra household, noticing how Lucien’s hair color was similar to Seraphina’s “Well, Sir Lucien, while I cannot heal your injury as well as Thesan can, I could do something better”
To his credit, Lucien tried not to look too intrigued as he kept a straight face “I doubt it but let’s hear it”
He even had Seraphina’s stubbornness, Helion noted with amusement as he gently took Lucien’s hand in his, sidelining the zap that went through his body and the goosebumps on his skin “I can show you a spell that won’t make you feel hurt at all”
At that, Lucien turned his entire attention to the Highlord, his voice betraying his excitement “How?”
"You do this" Helion drew the symbol on Lucien's palm to demonstrate.
Eyes lighting up, Lucien watched entraced before taking Helion's palm in his and trying to replicate the symbol "Like this?"
Helion corrected it for him, holding his hand and drawing it over his palm again "Like…this"
Lucien looked like he had achieved enlightenment as he laughed, doing and redoing the symbol to make sure he got it right "You're sure this works, right? Right?!"
"Go ahead, try it on me" Helion held his arm out and while he was sure even without the spell, little Lucien wouldn't be able to do much harm he gave him his best weary look "Go easy on me"
"Nuh uh" Lucien tutted, pulling his fist back and swinging with full force, the hit not registering in the slightest.
"See?" Helion asked "What do you think?"
"You could be lying" The amber-eyed prince was not having it "Go ahead, you try it on me now"
Helion worried he might actually end up bruising the kid if he used even a tenth of his energy so he chose to go the easy path and flicked his forehead. Hands flying to his forehead, Lucien pulled them away a second later, his face a kaleidoscope of awe and disbelief.
"I-It didn't hurt at all!" He was jumping around now, making flicking gestures and little punching actions.
"This will come in handy when your older brothers push you around, huh?" Helion teased, a smile breaking on his face replicating Lucien's.
"Nah" Lucien was still in the middle of his happy dance "I’m gonna teach it to my Mom" When Helion's smile dropped, Lucien realized what he had accidentally divulged.
Immediately recognizing that the little boy was about to panic, Helion decided to do instant damage control even if his blood boiled at the reminder of Seraphina's bruises "You're too strong when you playfight with your mother and she needs to be shielded?"
Lucien latched on to the excuse with desperate hands "Yep. I'm going to be stronger than all my brothers one day!"
"That's very commendable" Helion nodded along "However, take care of your mother and don't hurt her. That's not how good sons behave. You have to protect her"
Lucien was silent for a moment before he stepped away "L-Like I need you to tell me! I will protect my mother from everyone!" He was getting flustered and Helion knew it so he stood up and dusted off the dirt on his clothes.
"You're a good boy, Lucien. I'm proud of you"
"I don't care!" Lucien turned away, walking toward one of the entrances too quickly before he seemed to second guess himself and turned back toward Helion "Thanks..for your help"
Helion grinned, all toothy and cocky "You're welcome, little Lucien"
"I'll come visit you in Dawn Court sometime!" Lucien turned away and was already running, an all too familiar mischievous smile on his face.
"I'm the Highlord of the Day Co-! Ah damnit" Helion laughed as Lucien disappeared around the corner, something in his chest warming.
Helion stood there for a long time before he turned and made his way back to the party to pester his favorite Highlord, thoughts of his mate and her youngest son still fresh in his mind, his heart full.
###
My contribution to the Helion X LoA community because I don't see a lot of fanfics on this pairing (or maybe I'm looking at all the wrong places). This is a plea to send all and every Helion X LoA fanfic my way.
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hbyrde36 · 6 months
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Chapter 12!
Steve Harrington: Vampire Hunter
ao3 link
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8
Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11
CW: nsfw/smut ahead
It was a little surreal, walking up the steps of the Corroded Coffin after the events of his last visit to the place. At least this time he’d be walking in the front doors instead of trekking through the unholy depths of the city sewer. Steve was a little surprised that this was where Eddie had chosen to meet. He’d expected to be called to the vampire’s office at Guilty Pleasures, presuming the strip club would be his base of operations now that he was in charge, but then again, this place had belonged to Billy. Was it possible that when Eddie took on the role of Master of the City he’d also inherited the former leader’s estate?
There was a show on that night, some theatrical metal band that Steve had never heard of, and the place was as busier than he’d ever seen it. He scanned the crowd, unsure of what or who he was looking for, only that there would be someone waiting for him at the door. 
A young girl with bright blue eyes and red hair caught and held his gaze for so long, he started to feel uncomfortable. No, not uncomfortable. That tingling feeling on the back of his neck had nothing to do with the girl’s intense stare, terrifying as it was, it was the power coming off of her that was making his skin crawl. 
She sized Steve up, her eyes scanning from the top of his head to the tip of his toes, taking quite the detour inbetween. She looked a little young to be ogling him like that, but he was reasonably sure that she was much older than she appeared. 
“Are you him?” The girl asked pointedly, with a single raised eyebrow.
“I’m Steve, yeah, if that's what you mean.”
“Hmmpf,” She hummed, tilting her head slightly. “I thought you’d be bigger. Follow me.” The girl quickly turned on her heel and walked away, not even bothering to look back and see if he was following. 
Steve furrowed his brow, looking down at himself in confusion. He wasn’t short or anything, 5 '11'’ was a perfectly respectable height, thank you very much. He wasn’t skinny either, though he supposed he could stand to lift a few more weights here and there in between cardio workouts. She certainly couldn’t have been talking about his personality. They’d barely exchanged a handful of words, hardly enough for a first impression, let alone a judgment like that. Come to think of it, why was he letting this little girl get to him anyway? 
Steve shook his head at himself and jogged a little to catch up with the red ponytail bouncing its way through the thick mass of concertgoers. 
While the girl moved easily through the crowd, like the bow of a ship cutting through deep waters, Steve had to fight his way through the sea of leather-clad bodies. He caught up to her eventually, staying close so as to not get lost in the shuffle. 
He had assumed he was meeting Eddie in the underground, but that appeared not to be the case since she was leading him further into the venue and up towards the balcony. He wanted to be annoyed, the whole reason he had come here in the first place was to see if Eddie knew anything about the murder and he couldn’t exactly ask those types of questions around this many people, but he was too nervous to manage it properly.
Once they were in the upper section of the theater it was much easier to get around since there were so few seats up there and the only other people around were those few who could afford the insane price for these private sections. 
Steve grew impatient as they passed door after door until the girl finally stopped at the one that must have housed their destination. 
She knocked twice, not waiting for any sort of signal that he could detect anyway, before stepping inside. 
Steve was surprised to find two men standing to attention like sentries just inside the door, even more so when he realized that one of them was Jonathan, the wererat. They shared a brief nod of recognition. He didn’t know the other guard but thought he could safely assume the guy was another wererat by the way his energy felt so similar to Jonathan’s in Steve’s head. Grant, his nametag read, which almost made Steve chuckle. He knew that all wereanimals were human before they caught the disease, officially called lycanthropy, but it still seemed funny to him when they had such mundane names, same with vampires.
Red abandoned him immediately, taking a seat on the plush leather couch that sat in one corner of the space. She wedged herself between a young black man that Steve didn’t recognize and a girl who, judging by their resemblance, had to be his sister. Both of the new faces sang with an otherworldly energy, not the same as the redhead. So not vampires, but something more akin to Jonathan and Grant. Some other flavor of wereanimal he supposed. 
On the other side of the box sat a small private bar complete with a surprisingly human bartender. One seat was taken up by another new face. A tall vampire with very long, very straight black hair, and an easy smile. 
The other three stools were taken up by familiar forms. Dustin, Jeff, the vampire from Guilty Pleasures who had helped Steve out after he’d been bitten by Billy, and of course… Eddie. 
Eddie, who looked somehow even better than Steve remembered.
He was dressed head to toe in all black. Skin tight leather pants tucked into boots with just a smidge of a heel. His shirt was a similar style to those Steve had seen on the man before, apart from its color. With long frilly sleeves and collar, it was almost antique looking at first glance, but on closer examination the body of the shirt was entirely sheer. 
He saw Eddie only in profile at first, but one nipple was clearly visible through the light fabric, as was a hint of the line of hair that disappeared into his pants. His curls were pulled up, reminding Steve instantly of the dream they had once shared, of Eddie dancing on a pole just for him. There was something new to catch his attention as well, various gold hoops, studs, and dangling jewels hung from both of Eddie’s ears, glittering in the light low light. 
Steve stood frozen in the doorway as the dark haired vampire turned and their eyes met for the first time in months. His mouth went dry, pulse quickening. He’d thought, well, he’d hoped with all the time apart that maybe Eddie’s presence wouldn’t affect him quite so much, but he was wrong. 
Oh god, he was so wrong. 
The pull was worse than ever and it took all of Steve's willpower not to cross the room and climb right into the man’s lap. 
He couldn't seem to wrench his gaze away and panicked briefly thinking that it was Eddie using mind tricks on him, before he remembered that he couldn’t. With the first and second marks firmly in place, Eddie had less power over him than ever. Which meant that this fascination was all him.
Fuck. 
Steve dropped his gaze to the floor as he entered the room, finally letting the door close behind him, not for fear of being compelled but for self-preservation. He couldn't stare into those deep chocolate drowning pools that, power or no, he could get so easily lost in. Eyes that tonight were framed not only by the fan of Eddie's naturally long eyelashes, but were also lined in black, artfully smudged into smoky wings at the corners. 
He was beautiful. 
Steve took a deep breath and conjured up images from that morning’s crime scene in stark detail to remind himself of why he was here. He could do this. Just a quick interview and then he would get the hell out here and as far away from this temptation as possible. 
“Harrington.” Eddie greeted him, rising from his seat but thankfully remaining a safe distance away. “To what do we owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?” 
Steve looked back up hesitantly, catching Dustin’s nervous stare from where he sat behind Eddie for a second before offering an answer. 
“Maybe I came to congratulate you on the promotion. Master of the City is a pretty tall order. I didn’t think you had the kind of power it takes to keep control of a city.” He was thrilled that, though he felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin, his words came out strong and even. 
“You and everyone else.” Eddie remarked, with more honestly than Steve would have expected. 
It was subtle, but he sounded tired too, strained, regardless of the front he was trying to put off with the clothes, makeup, and entourage. It couldn’t all be for Steve’s benefit, and it had him wondering what sort of trouble the creatures of the city were giving the new head vampire and If there were others after Eddie in the same way that Humans First was. 
That wasn’t Steve’s problem though, he had to keep reminding himself of that. 
Apparently he’d been quiet for too long, and Eddie spoke again. “I know better than to hope this is a personal call. It’s okay Steve, just tell me what you came here for so you can scurry off back to your life of raising the dead and pretending I don't exist.”
Steve frowned, feeling like he wanted to defend himself or maybe apologize? 
He wasn’t sure. 
He grit his teeth hard enough that his jaw cracked, hating the way his thoughts swirled and his emotions flared hot and cold around this vampire. Life had been so much simpler before. He’d know what was right and what was wrong then, and he wouldn’t have been struggling this hard to not close the distance between them. 
Steve looked around the room, taking stock of just how many ears with supernatural hearing were around, and also gave himself a second to get a grip before looking back at Eddie.
“There is something I need to speak with you about, but it’s police business. Is there someplace more private we could talk?” He asked, finally.
Eddie’s eyebrows rose slightly but otherwise he kept his face carefully blank. He cleared his throat roughly which seemed like an odd thing for a vampire to have to do, and suddenly Steve wondered if Eddie was having some of the same difficulties he was. 
Before the vampire could respond, Steve’s ears were abruptly assaulted by the overwhelming sound of power cords and thumping bass, drawing his attention and reminding him that there was in fact a concert going on outside of this weird bubble he’d been brought into. The box they were standing in was positioned high above the crowd, dead center facing the stage. 
The sight was normal enough, a band consisting of a pair of guitarists, one also being the lead singer, a bass player and a drummer with one of the most complex setups Steve had ever seen. Less typical were the extra performers on stage, namely a giant snake that looked too big to be real and a woman dressed as a belly dancer who appeared to be charming the humongous reptile to the beat of the music. 
Steve…was not a fan of snakes. They didn’t bother him as much as rodents did, though after the events of summer he thought he might be over that particular phobia, but there was just something about snakes. The way they moved, the feel of their scales, their smell, all of it conspired to set off goosebumps running up and down his arms. 
There was another reason this particular serpent was making him so nervous, and that was the unmistakable pulse of power he could feel coming from the creature. 
Steve rolled his eyes and tried to pretend he wasn’t sweating with fear. Of course Eddie would book a band that performed with, not only a giant fucking murder noodle, but a magical one at that.
A hand touched his shoulder and Steve nearly jumped out of his skin. It was Eddie trying to get his attention. Steve wanted to lash out, but realized with how loud the room now was, the man could have been shouting his name this whole time and he might not have heard. 
Eddie tilted his head towards the door before setting off in that direction himself, a clear indication that Steve should follow him.
It was quieter out in the hall but Steve could still hear the music and faintly behind that, the hum of the crowd. 
A short walk and another nondescript door later, Eddie was ushering him inside…a bathroom.
Granted, it was a fancy one with dark ornate tiles and gleaming fixtures, meant for the well paying patrons of the upper floors, but still a bathroom. Steve laughed for real then. It was ridiculous, but of course Eddie wouldn't have an office up here. 
Oh well, he’d asked for privacy.
The door swung closed and Eddie locked it behind them. Steve opened his mouth to protest but Eddie cut him off. “There may not be many people up here but we still don’t want to be walked in on, or do we?”
Steve gulped and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, unable to stop his mind from running through all the different positions and scenarios in which they could be walked in on.
“There's been a murder,'' he blurted out, before really getting himself under control. He had to get this done and get out before he did something monumentally stupid.
“So, someone in this city of over 800,000 people dies, and the first person you think to question about it is little ole me?” Eddie smirked.
Steve put his hands on his hips. “You say that as if you’re not a vampire and a natural killing machine.”
Eddie shrugged, nonchalant. “I can’t help what I am. I wonder though, if you think I'm guilty of this murder you are investigating, then why are you in here with me alone?”
“You’re not a suspect, more a… person of interest.”
“Oh?”
“I think you might be able to help me figure out who is responsible.” Steve explained.
“Why would I do that?”
Because you want me just as much as I want you, Steve’s traitorous mind supplied.
Instead he said through slightly gritted teeth, “It’s not exactly a good look for you, is it? Humans suddenly found dead with multiple vampire bites. Surely, as the newly famous Master of the City who wants to keep the peace between vampire and humans, you can see how that might be a little difficult if one of your new pet vampires has gone rogue.”
Eddie was unimpressed by the accusation. “If someone really has been murdered the way you describe, I can promise it wasn’t any of my people. Even the new additions.”
“What do you mean, if?”
“Well, it sounds like this body you describe had several bites, perhaps your so-called ‘victim’ chose this. Can’t you just ask them when they rise in a few nights?”
“You don’t understand. The way this body was left…” Steve shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I checked the bite radiuses. It was more than one vamp. This victim won’t rise.”
Eddie stilled. “A group attack then. You’re looking for a master vampire and their flock.”
“Yes, one that has clearly gone off the rails and is hunting humans in your territory, Eddie. Now do you see why I came to you?”
Eddie conceded, nodding. “Max, that’s the girl that brought you to me, and Argyle, he was sitting next to Dustin at the bar, they are new here and both master vampires, but I know they didn’t do this. They’re blood-oathed to me, I'd know if something like this happened.”
“You could just be covering for them, protecting them.”
Eddie, who’s eyes had drifted away as he was deep in thought, snapped back to attention and angrily met Steve's gaze. “After everything we’ve been through, you think I'm lying now?”
Steve sighed and shuffled his feet, uncomfortable with what he was about to admit. “No, actually. Somehow, I believe you.”
“What about Jason Carver and his order?” Eddie suggested. “He is a master, and from what I hear he gives his people a pretty long leash.”
“We’ve considered that. The police are talking with him tonight too.”
“Oh, so you volunteered to take me on while they speak with him, huh?”
“That’s not…” Steve stuttered.
“Tsk tsk” Eddie reproved. “Careful Steve, you might be able to lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.”
“That’s not fair, you can hear my heartbeat. You’re like a walking lie detector test.”
Eddie leveled him with a penetrating stare. “You and I both know that’s not why. You may be getting better at shielding yourself from me, but when we are this close I can't help feeling some of your emotions. You project them so loudly.”
“The only emotion I feel towards you is hatred, Eddie.”
The vampire shook his head, taking a step closer. “Lie.”
“Would you rather I had sent the police here?” Steve snapped.
Eddie snorted, waving a hand dismissively. “And miss out on this lovely visit we’re having? Of course not.”
“Then why are you pushing?”
Eddie took a few more slow steps towards him, closing the wide gap between them. He gently stroked the back of his hand over Steve's cheek, the touch so soft it was like being caressed by a ghost. Steve remained unmoving, at war with himself, unsure of which instinct was stronger, to step back and regain some distance, or move in closer and surrender to his darkest desires. 
Eddie, likely fully aware of Steve’s internal battle, grinned. It wasn’t his Cheshire cat smile either, the one where you could be sure he was up to something. No, this smile was sweet, a little crooked, and undeniably genuine. “Because, I like the music your heart makes when it beats like a trapped animal in your chest.”
Steve gulped. 
He needed to back away. 
He needed to get out of here. 
“You want me so bad right now you can hardly see straight.” Eddie breathed the words, continuing his assault on Steve's defenses. The hand that had been gently stroking his face traveled lower. Steve sucked in a breath but Eddie’s touch didn’t go where he expected, instead he found the vampire taking his hand, pressing their palms together, fingers entwined. 
Eddie was…holding his hand.
“Why do you insist on fighting it? On fighting me, when we could just be together?” Eddie whispered, his face suddenly so much closer than Steve had realized.
“You’re a vampire,” Steve rasped. 
He’d meant for it to come out strong, defiant. 
He’d utterly failed.
Still, Eddie flinched, a sorrowful look crossing his face as he said again, “I can’t help what I am.”
It was the sadness shining in his eyes that did it. For one split second Eddie looked all too human and Steve’s resolve broke. He crashed his lips into the vampire's and walked him back until he was pressed firmly into the tiled wall. The kiss was deep and dirty, barely a kiss at all, it was more like they were feeding at each other's mouths.
Both of them pent up, desperate, and wanting.
Eddie made a noise low in his throat, a moan, almost a growl, and the sound set fire burning through Steve's body at the same time all the blood in his veins rushed south.
He didn’t think about the fact that they shouldn't be doing this, or that he was going to hate himself later for giving in. 
Steve ran his fingers along the waistband of Eddie's pants until he found the zipper, pulling it down slowly as he broke the kiss and sank to his knees. 
He took a moment to look up into Eddie’s eyes before releasing his rapidly hardening cock from the confines of his tight pants, and found him heavy lidded with desire. 
Steve returned to his task, unconsciously licking his lips as Eddie’s length finally sprang free. In all their encounters, dream and otherwise, Steve had never seen Eddie laid bare, had never gotten to hold him in the palm of his hand. 
He reveled in it now as he gave Eddie a few strokes before taking the head into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around, dipping the tip of it into the slit to catch a bead of precum he could feel there before sinking down as far as he could go. Steve moaned at the feeling of Eddie's cock sitting heavy on his tongue.
“Fuck.” Eddie cursed above him, winding a hand into Steve's hair, gripping firm but not pulling.
Steve relaxed his throat, taking Eddie as deep as possible and set an even pace, bobbing up and down on the considerable length. He couldn't help noticing that, even here, Eddie’s skin was cooler than a humans. It was different but not unpleasant, as was the slightly coppery flavor of him. 
“Feels so good.” Eddie gasped. “Baby, I'm not gonna last.”
Baby.
That really did something for him. Steve groaned and popped the button on his own jeans with two fingers. He shoved the hand into his boxers and began to stroke himself in time with the movement of his head.
”Look at you, sweetheart.” Eddie cooed, stroking a thumb down Steve’s cheek. “All worked up just from your mouth on my cock. Had I known where this was going I would have taken you somewhere more comfortable.” 
Steve whimpered, the sound muffled inside his overfull mouth, and suddenly he was cumming hard enough that stars burst on the edge of his vision. He screamed his release around Eddie’s shaft and the added sensation was enough to push the vampire over the edge. Steve had taken Eddie all the way down as he rode out his own orgasm, and Eddie's release shot right down his throat. Steve swallowed reflexively as he came down from his own high. 
He pulled off of Eddie slowly, jaw sore, and sat back on his heels for a moment to catch his breath. Eddie tucked himself away and offered a hand to help Steve stand, which he took. 
Eddie tried to pull him in for a kiss but Steve, suddenly all too lucid, threw himself backwards violently. 
Now that he’d cum, now that they’d both cum, reality was setting in. He was embarrassed and angry, though for once not at the vampire standing in front of him. 
He felt like he’d betrayed himself.
Eddie’s eyes shuttered, his expression that was once wide open, and full of some emotion that Steve didn’t want to think about, a moment before, was now closed off and stony. 
“This doesn’t change anything between us.” Steve said, voice hoarse from the abuse he’d just put his throat through. “It was a mistake.”
“I see.” Eddie replied coldly.
Steve stumbled over to one of the sinks, refusing to meet Eddie’s gaze as he washed the sticky mess off his hand. 
When he did finally raise his eyes to the mirror to risk a glance behind him, he found Eddie stiff and alert, staring at the door they’d entered through and tilting his ear in the same direction. 
Supernatural hearing.
“What is it?” Steve asked, ignoring the uncomfortable squirming in his gut in favor of the sudden dread coursing like ice through his veins.
“Screaming. Something’s wrong.” Eddie answered quickly. He didn’t waste any more time explaining. He unlocked the door and took off at such a speed that Steve barely saw him move.
He dried his hands quickly and set off after the vampire without hesitation. 
The panicked screams hit Steve in the hallway. He rushed to the door of Eddie’s club box and threw it open. 
All of the vampires and wereanimals inside were staring at the stage, matching looks of horror on all of their faces as the crowd below descended into chaos, everyone trying to leave at once through too few doors.  
It appeared that the giant snake had attacked his trainer, a fact that Steve was only aware of because he saw, for a brief moment, the woman’s legs sticking out of the monster’s mouth, still kicking as it swallowed her whole. 
All of the blood drained from Steve’s face. He suddenly felt faint. This was beyond his worst nightmare. 
“What are you doing?” He asked, realizing that everyone around him was now pushing past him to the door.
Eddie looked back but didn’t stop, a grim look of determination on his face as he answered. “Going down there, we have to stop it before it wades into the crowd.”
Steve made to follow but Eddie spun around and stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Go home, Steve. This isn’t your problem.”
“I’m not leaving, I can help.”
Eddie’s jaw tightened, but it was worry swimming in his eyes, not anger. “Fine. I hope you have something more on you than that little blade you like to keep in your boot.”
Steve withdrew the gun that had been hiding under the loose dress shirt he was wearing. “I have 15 rounds of silver ammunition on me. If I need more than that then we’re truly fucked.”
“Steve, it’s a magic snake. I don’t even know if it can be killed.” Eddie made to reach for him again but stopped before he could make contact. “I can feel how much it scares you, you don’t have to do this.” He said again, sounding guilty.
“I’m fine, and to be clear I’m not doing it for you” Steve said, and deep down he knew it was a lie. “I’m doing this for Dustin and for all of those civilians down there that you put in danger by booking an act like this. Besides, anything can be killed if you try hard enough.”
Chapter 13
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knifedancer · 6 months
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Uninvited (songfic, part 2)
Sequel/Follow-up to 'Iris'. Marinette knows that Argos has been following her and his presence is unwelcome. One night, while she is walking home, Mari is attacked by two strange men and, much to her surprise, Argos steps in to save her. When he suffers from a near fatal wound, what will the secret heroine do?
Based on the lyrics for 'Uninvited' by Alanis Morissette (1998) from the movie soundtrack for 'City of Angels'. Posted on AO3.
Part 1
~~~~~~~
Like anyone would be
I am flattered by your fascination with me
Like any hot-blooded woman
I have simply wanted an object to crave
But you, you're not allowed
You're uninvited
An unfortunate slight
Oh, Marinette knew she was being followed – she knew exactly who it was as well. Ever since the Diamond Dance and his oddly protective behavior towards her, Felix – as Argos – became the petite bluenette’s shadow. At first, she was disturbed and concerned he had discovered her heroic identity but, as days grew into weeks and weeks turned into months, it became obvious that he had no idea. Especially when he would attack her during akuma attacks and then stand sentry – his glowing magenta eyes standing out against the shadows – only a few rooftops away from her balcony. She could sense his curiosity was changing – at first suspicious and now something distinctly different. Whatever it was, Tikki agreed that his attentions did not seem threatening. Marinette only hoped he would find something else – someone else – fascinating soon as she had no time to spare. Her duties as Ladybug and the miraculous guardian were too important to have distractions…
Must be strangely exciting
To watch the stoic squirm
Must be somewhat heartening
To watch shepherd meet shepherd
But you, you're not allowed
You're uninvited
An unfortunate slight
Afterall, Felix had been the one to impersonate Adrien, the sole cause that akumatized her three friends, attempted to sexually assault her, betrayed her to Hawkmoth, only to take on the role of villain… The young designer could not readily forgive and forget. While Marinette remained the same person she had been, she had learned her lesson when Lila isolated her. She was thankful as it stripped away her naivety; she was now far more cautious with her heart, her time, her energy.
That’s why she decided to give up on loving Adrien. So many attempted kisses, missed opportunities, and failed confessions… It was as if the universe was giving her a message that she finally understood. He would always remain someone special to her but the disaster that was her love life was a distraction toward her miraculous mission: defeat Monarch and retrieve the jewels. The secret heroine focused on building their friendship instead. She knew Argos witnessed it all – it made her uncomfortable knowing he was likely laughing at her fickle feelings. How could he understand what laid in her heart?! What struggles she dealt with while she struggled to keep her head held high? To keep herself from drowning beneath her increasingly difficult responsibilities and obligations?
Perhaps he would leave her alone now.
Like any uncharted territory
I must seem greatly intriguing
You speak of my love like
You have experienced love like mine before
But this is not allowed
You're uninvited
An unfortunate slight
But even after watching her move beyond her crush, Argos remained her steadfast companion of a sort – never appearing directly to Marinette. He was simply there. Just on the edge of her sight but always silent, always out of reach, but always watching…
That’s why, when she was attacked late at night, she was shocked to see Argos intervene. Just having him present hampered her immensely! It risked her identity getting back to Monarch so she was unable to transform nor react as she normally would for fear for raising suspicions. Grabbed, roughed up, and mentally rattled, she was unsure what she was seeing was real. This purple and blue colored villain had finally shed the comfort of his shadows and appointed himself her champion. He stood in a defensive position in front of her, fan at ready and in a fighting stance. ‘Why?’ her mind questioned on repeat as she watched him fight, eyes blurry from being slapped. When he turned and offered his hand, she hesitated as she stared into his magenta eyes to seek the answers she most desired. ‘Why? Why now?’
That’s when she saw the flash of a knife behind him, glinting in the moonlight, as the taller man lunged. Her entire consciousness flooded with blinding fear and she screamed, “Look out!”
Argos turned but it was too late, the knife plunged into his side and Marinette felt her stomach suddenly drop. She choked on her breath, feeling the dread wring her vocal chords as she saw the blood seep into the material of his miraculous suit. ‘So much blood…’ Her panicked heartbeat roared in her ears as she stared wide-eyed, unable to hear anything else. Then he smirked, wrenching the knife from his body and transformed it into a minotaur sentimonster that chased her attackers off. The secret heroine should have been more concerned about the potential senti-threat but…
Her heart stopped and the silence deafened her as Argos focused his pain filled gaze upon her again. Marinette wasn’t sure what she said as her mind raced, her own eyes drawn to the seemingly never-ending blood that leaked from the large laceration in his side. When he collapsed beside her, his breathing becoming more ragged as his timer wound down, her Ladybug senses kicked into overdrive – assessing his injuries and attempting to staunch the bleed. That’s when his transformation fell away and bluebells met hazel green… she finally saw the broken and hurt boy, the fear and love that lay beneath his cold exterior.
“…I’m s-sorry, Angel…,” Felix’s fading voice seemed like it had been dragged through wet gravel and it set off alarms in her head. She did everything she could but, as he collapsed into her arms, everything screamed at her to save him!
“Tikki, spots on!” Marinette tucked the peacock miraculous into her yo-yo to keep it safe, hoisted Felix’s limp body into her arms, and zipped away towards the nearest hospital. Adrenaline swept away the pain that arose with each breath, each movement, as her body protested against using injured limbs. She didn’t care, couldn’t even think about that now. Her mind’s sole focus was on the blond teen in her arms and her new mission. He was—he was always there… He just couldn’t die!
The landing in the alley nearest the emergency room nearly knocked the wind from her lungs as the sprained ankle lanced pain up her leg and spine. She detransformed and gasped; stumbling as a wave of excruciating sensations caused tears to spring to her eyes within seconds. ‘I don’t have time to hurt,’ she scolded herself mentally. Pushing down the panic and anguish with gritted teeth, her eyes two burning coals of determination, she summoned her residual Ladybug strength to carry him in through the entry on unsteady feet.
After the flurry of doctors, half-truths, police reports, and bandages, she was finally deemed non-critical and was discharged. Marinette sat vigil outside the door to surgery, ice pack gingerly held over one eye as her mind recalling every minute in meticulous detail to keep the doom spiral from forming in her mind. The blood, the knife, the faces of the men… After a few hours, doctors wheeled him out and into a room for recovery. Although he would still take a while to recuperate, she was convinced that Tikki had loaned him a little luck as the knife had miraculously missed anything vital. ‘He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive,’ she thought on repeat.
“Marinette, you should pin Duusu’s broach to his chest, it should help him recover faster,” Tikki’s soft whisper broke her from her mental chanting. “We can always retrieve it before he is discharged if he cannot be trusted.”
“Good idea, Tikki. Thank you,” she hobbled into the attached bathroom to transform and retrieve the brooch. She re-entered the room as herself only a moment later, pinning and watching the peacock shaped pin transform into a less recognizable piece of jewelry upon his hospital gown. Duusu appeared with a flash and his gaze met Marinette’s.
“Guardian, I did not think you would return me to my holder,” the bird kwami bowed gratefully. “He’s not truly a villain, simply misunderstood and carries deep emotional wounds. Felix has desired to protect you. I don’t think he fully understands why. He will be so confused but happy when he realizes you are Ladybug!”
“Let’s keep my identity – as Ladybug and the guardian – a secret for the time being, shall we?” She pressed a finger to her lips and winked, Duusu giggled softly in response before settling in the crook of Felix’s neck with a coo.
An odd silence descended upon the room – filled with beeping, whirring, and distant chatter. Marinette’s eyes were drawn to Felix’s pale countenance. “He looks so fragile,” she murmured to herself. Minding the wires and tubes attached to him, the girl brushed the hair back from his face. Dark circles resided under his shut eyes, evidence of his late nights and long days. The bluenette settled into the chair at his bedside with a sigh, her eye blackened and shirt now dried with his blood. She glanced up at the clock on the wall, one in the morning.
I don't think you unworthy
I need a moment to deliberate
Marinette looked over his still form once again as the exhaustion settled into her bones, “I guess it’s my turn to watch you now, hmm?”
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theladyofbloodshed · 1 year
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A Court of Tangled Flames - Chapter 18
‘I love you.’
The words slipped out. His eyes widened – and for a moment his body stiffened. They had only formed in his mind for a second before they’d thrust their way to the surface, ensuring they were heard. But it was true. The marriage had been one of convenience to protect Nesta from both the Night Court and Beron Vanserra. Love was a consequence of that. Eris had known those feelings were blooming, but tried not to look at them directly after Orla had stuck her oar in and warned him off. He was foolish to try. Love always demanded to be felt.
Eris waited for Nesta to rear back like a bucking animal. Her revulsion should have broken through. The illusion of their marriage should have shattered there and then in front of a packed Winter Court ballroom.
She merely gave him the shyest smile he had ever seen from her, all softness and beauty, then tucked her cheek to his chest.
It didn’t matter who watched them dance. They were simply a husband and wife enjoying dance after dance. Eris wanted the world to know that he would watch it burn before he ever let any harm come to Nesta. She was his. Not because of fate, not because of an external force pushing them together, but because they had found each other.
Nesta was a magnificent dancer. They flowed together like twin flames, rising and falling, joining together then departing once more. He’d have danced with her all night if he could, but she pulled away when a song faded out.
‘I’m worried about Azriel,’ she murmured, leading him towards a table full of drinks.
Nesta’s slender hand enclosed around a glass of wine as she brought it to her full lips. She sipped at it, grey eyes never straying from the shadowsinger. He sat alone. The Night Court remained on the table they had dined on, but he sat far from them in the corner, shrouded in shadow. Eris wouldn’t have noticed him if Nesta hadn’t pointed him out.
As if he felt their eyes on him, he slipped from the room.
‘You don’t need to feel sympathy for him, Nesta. You owe them nothing.’
‘I know that, but Azriel was never rude to me. He was the only one that was civil.’
Eris had to laugh. ‘Civility shouldn’t be praised. It should be the norm. It’s important to me that you know that.’
She gave a shrug of one shoulder then drained her glass of wine. ‘Tell that to them. He’s the only one who didn’t start an argument with me or tell me I’m a piece of shit. I’m going to talk to him.’
Maybe he wasn’t quick enough to hide it – or maybe Nesta knew him too well. She let out a sigh and brushed a hand against his cheek. ‘I will be fine.’
***
The air hit Nesta like a slap. It was bracingly cold. Azriel stood against a balcony, his powerful wings tucked against his body, staring out across the snow. The moon was ringed from the cold and it seemed to shine brighter in this court, reflecting off the thick wedges of snow hanging off the mountains.
Nesta came to stand beside him. ‘Hello.’
‘You’ll freeze out here.’ On instinct, his wing curled around her, sheltering her slightly from the cold.
‘I could say the same to you. Are you alright?’
‘Yes.’ A lie. So smooth and practised that Nesta would have believed it if she hadn’t caught glimpses of him throughout the night. He’d seemed different somehow. Lost. His eyes tended to dart frequently around rooms, constantly assessing whilst his shadows stood to attention like sentries. Tonight, Azriel had gazed at nothing in particular. His shadows were reluctant to leave him. That fact kept others at bay from him. They were the company when he’d had nobody else. He needed somebody who didn’t balk from his shadows. They were a part of him.
‘You’re not.’ A pause. ‘Can I help you?’
‘I’m fine, Nesta. Thank you.’
Then, in a move daring for her, she tilted her head to rest against his arm. ‘I had somebody who saw my sadness and wanted me to feel the warmth of the sun shining on me again. Who is there to notice your sadness, Azriel?’
‘I’m not sad.’ Nesta raised her eyebrows at him. ‘I don’t know what I am. I just feel empty.’
Nesta shivered as a wind rattled through the mountains. It brought gooseflesh onto her skin.
‘Lets go inside or he’ll be after me.’
‘Don’t give a thought to Cassian – not where I’m concerned.’
‘I was referring to Eris.’
Even the mention of his name had Nesta brimming with joy. Her mouth curled into a smile that she tried to bury, but Azriel caught it. ‘I’m glad you’re happy. We all deserve to be happy.’
She pressed a hand to his chest, stopping his steps as the music washed over them from the joyous great hall. ‘Would you like to dance?’
The male was too polite to refuse her, especially as she extended a hand for him to take on the fringes of the ballroom. To reject her outstretched hand would be a societal faux pas. His raised scars brushed against her palm as his hand slipped into hers. If his family was watching, Nesta did not care. It wasn’t about drawing a line in the sand and choosing sides; it was about seeing a male in distress and being unable to bear it. She didn’t know if they had noticed his pain or not – knowing them, probably not.  
The dance was a gentle waltz. Together they glided across the room, carried by the soft, sweeping music. When Nesta realised what a good dancer he was, she refused to let Azriel go until at least two more dances – much to his dismay. He was good natured enough to indulge her though.
‘Am I the cause of this emptiness?’ She wondered aloud.
‘No,’ he replied, letting her out of hold to spin once.
‘Niamh then?’
He gave a roll of his hazel eyes. ‘No. She’s a pain. Only because she forces me to stare at the truth I’ve always tried to hide from.’
Yes, Nesta could imagine that Niamh would continue to be direct to him with her dislike of the Night Court. The female was brave to not care that Azriel was one of the most powerful Illyrians in history. Then again, Nesta had never met another female like Niamh – only the Mother knew what powers she had in her arsenal. Still, Nesta would ask Eris to call her back from her schemes in Windhaven to at least give Azriel a break. Out of them all, he deserved it the most.
‘Can I ask why you’re still at Emerie’s? Could there be a romance on the cards?’
‘I think she’s too polite to ask me to leave,’ he admitted, turning them on the spot. ‘No romance. No. It’s hard to be at the river house. Hard to be anywhere near Rhys really. I feel like I’m seeing him clearly for the first time – seeing what other people see. It’s difficult.’
‘I thought I was crazy,’ Nesta mused, careful to keep her voice quiet as she danced close to him. ‘I never saw the wonderful male that you all spoke of with a dreamy voice. He has never been kind to me.’ Because she felt daring tonight, she added, ‘I know I haven’t always been friendly to him – but he is five hundred years older than me. He should know better. I’m his mate’s sister yet he’s always seen me as an enemy.’  
The music ebbed away before another song began so Nesta relinquished the shadowsinger back to whatever sanctuary he sought that night. ‘Thank you for dancing with me.’
‘Thank you for opening my eyes.’
For a reason she could not name, her eyes prickled with tears. She swallowed hard, fighting away the lump in her throat. ‘Azriel. You will always have a friend in me. If you just… If you wanted to ever talk or… I don’t know. I’m there if you need somebody. I know how hard it is when you feel like you have nobody. You have me.’
***
For a long while, Eris simply watched from across the room as Uther engaged Nesta in conversation by a table laden with desserts. He would step in as soon as the current changed, but, for now, Nesta was holding her own. A bland smile was plastered on her face, but she talked out of the side of her mouth which Eris knew meant she was likely hissing something at his vapid brother. Good. Eris needed them to recognise that Nesta knew exactly how to bite so they wouldn’t go after her. Except for Phelan, they were wise enough to not seek a fight with somebody who could beat them – and Nesta could.
When his wife had suffered enough of his brother’s dull company, Eris strutted over. He slipped an arm around Nesta’s shoulders as she stuffed another chocolate-soaked profiterole into her mouth.
‘Uther, sniffing around my wife all evening... Anybody would think you were jealous.’
Before he could retort, Nesta huffed out a sigh. ‘My mind rots further with every minute of his company.’
Again, Uther opened his mouth to speak but Nesta shuddered dramatically. ‘How can one brother be so perfect whilst the other is utterly revolting?’
He had to bite down on his knuckle to keep from laughing in Uther’s face. His brother skulked away, wise enough not to mutter about Nesta under his breath.
‘You are positively delightful.’
‘When I want to be,’ she smirked in response, clinking her glass of wine with his. ‘Don’t let me eat another pudding. I’ll be sick.’
‘Which ones should I smuggle up to our room for later?’
Nesta’s mouth formed an O. ‘I knew I married you for a reason. Let’s take a slice of the carrot cake. That thing with the meringue. And maybe a trifle.’
‘And for me?’
‘I might let you have a spoonful of trifle.’
She was wonderful. Eris kissed her on the temple, his arm guiding her away from the table of desserts. ‘Do I get two spoons of trifle for this?’
Waiting for them on a table nestled into an alcove was Elain Archeron. She fiddled with her hair, tossing it over a shoulder then wrapping a lock around her finger. Her black gown was ill-fitting. It wore her rather than the other way round. It made her skin pale, eyes hollowed out. She gave Nesta a terse smile, but did not rise from the table. Sat behind her, overseeing the meeting was Lucien. Eris had bargained for it while Nesta danced with the shadowsinger. He wouldn’t have minded either male being the overseer for the Night Court; but Lucien had his own ambitions beyond the court.
A gasp slipped from between Nesta’s lips. ‘Oh, Eris.’
‘I couldn’t manage Feyre, but you and Elain can talk. I’ll sit with Lucien.’
Nesta halted his steps. She tugged him back to her by his waistcoat. The corner of her mouth curled into a feline grin. ‘I’ll let you have half a trifle for this. And maybe something extra.’
Whilst his wife settled next to her sister, Eris settled opposite his brother on the adjacent table. He kept his back to the wall, watching it all unfold in case the Night Court tried anything. It was difficult to say which set of siblings were more tense. There were certainly enough bad blood between him and Lucien to cause a flood – more from Eris’ side – but Elain had drawn enough of Nesta’s blood with her loyalty to the Night Court.
‘Lucien.’
‘Eris.’
Though the smiles were rare from either of them, when Lucien smiled, he so resembled his mother. Her eyes looked back at Eris. One eye. The other was a reminder of his brother’s courage in the face of a tyrant. Amarantha wasn’t the first vile bully Lucien had faced. A lifetime under Beron Vanserra’s watchful eyes had toughened him, toughened all of them. Where the others had become spiked and gnarled, there was still an untouchable warmth in Lucien’s core. The desire to do good and to be better had always been his driving force. Even when teasing or mischievous, Lucien had been likable. There wasn’t a soul in the Autumn Court who hadn’t been charmed or enchanted by him. He was the male that fathers wanted for their daughters, the male that mothers wished they’d had four hundred years earlier. Eris had been proud to have him as a brother. He was the best of them.
‘How fares married life?’
And his brother was not his anymore.
Lucien Vanserra was in the pocket of the Night Court – all because of an instable beast of a high lord and a pretty, little mate.
‘It’s splendid. I’d recommend it to all. Then again, no male is as lucky as I. Marriage is easy when your wife is Nesta Archeron.’
Lucien gave a slight dip of his chin, russet eye roving back to Elain as if a tether pulled them together. His brows drew together.
‘Eavesdropping?’
He was shushed so Eris listened in too.
‘-happier now. Truly, you do. I’m sorry I didn’t see it before.’
‘Did you think I was happy when you evacuated me from my home and imprisoned me?’
‘It was for your own good,’ Elain said defensively then her face fractured, ‘but I didn’t know about Feyre’s child. Nobody had told me.’
‘This court keeps many secrets. Don’t take it personally – though maybe you should wonder what other secrets they keep from you.’
Elain’s mouth puckered up. Lucien sat forwards in his chair at the first signs of her discomfort, the ever attentive mate. Eris understood it. He and Nesta weren’t mates, but that desire to go to her at the first signs of potential distress were overwhelming.
‘You’re taking a bit of a liberty, Nesta.’
Nesta tossed back her head as she drained her glass of wine. ‘I made weapons imbued with magic and they voted on telling me. Everything I did for the court was because they threatened to make you do it if I didn’t.’ She rose sharply from her chair, giving her sister a barbed smile. ‘One day, Elain the fog will lift. I am happier. And I hope one day you will be too.’
At once, Eris was at her side, like a dog summoned to its master. Nesta did not offer Elain – nor Lucien – a further look. The sounds of their shoes treading over the polished floor were drowned out by the music flooding in from the large ballroom.
‘Thank you for organising that.’
He inclined his head. ‘Sorry it wasn’t the reunion you hoped for.’
‘I find myself disappointed by my own expectations. Elain is exactly who she has always been.’
The hope that some might do more – be more – had long since left Eris. Nesta would learn. Though, not due to him. Eris would not disappoint her. She was a female who deserved nothing less than the world and he wanted to give it to her.
Many of the guests had filtered out though some remained, trading stories and drinking strong liquor. Others still danced, grateful for the extra space on the floor now. Eris wrapped his arms around Nesta.
‘What do you say we head to bed after we raid the dessert table?’
***
Blood pounded in Nesta’s ears as Eris led the way to their rooms. She could not stop the fluttering of her heart as they climbed each staircase.
Once in the room, Eris carefully placed the plate of puddings onto a bedside table as if it were the most precious thing in the world. He threw his flames into the hearth then engulfed her with his body until it was warm enough inside. Her fingers peeled away his jacket then began loosening each button of his waistcoat as his mouth sought hers again.
It felt like a hunger that would never be sated. Now she had him, she wanted all of him.
Her lips slid over his, dictating the pace. From both of them, there was a fervent desire to have more. Eris’ body pressed hers against the wall. Heat seared from it. One hand cupped her face, raising it to his level, whilst the other slunk down her bare back. Where his fingers touched it, Nesta’s skin tingled. She let out a soft moan against his lips from the touch. Eris responded by pressing his body closer. Desire was a wildfire, the sparks well and truly caught.
‘Give me a minute,’ Nesta said breathlessly. She broke free of him then scuttled to the bathroom to freshen up. She was thankful the rest of her in-laws were already in their rooms so she could return to Eris in only a skimpy nightgown with her heavy ballgown bundled over her arm.
Eris was lounging on the bed when Nesta returned. His boots had been kicked off haphazardly. The first two buttons of his shirt had been torn off by her in eagerness, exposing the hot skin of his chest. It did nothing to calm Nesta’s inferno of lust. His short hair was tousled where her fingers had tangled in it. He threw her a crooked smile, more enchanting and enticing than any she’d seen from her husband before.
‘Here,’ he said, crooking his finger towards his muscled body.
Where obedience was concerned, Nesta was incapable of rebellion.
His flames dimmed in the hearth, casting the room in an almost-darkness, as she crawled across the bed. Without invitation, she straddled his lap. Eris was in turmoil, she could tell. His amber eyes were unable to settle on a single part of her. She felt his gaze snagging on her face in a valiant effort to meet her eyes then they dipped lower to her breasts where her peaked nipples pressed against her nightgown. Then they dipped lower still to the pale skin of her thighs. Ever the gentleman, he managed to drag his eyes back up to hers before giving her a rueful smile.
‘My love,’ he murmured, stroking a hand along her cheek. Nesta closed her eyes and breathed into his touch.
Her body rippled with pleasure as Eris dutifully plucked each grip from her hair so it tracked down her back in golden ribbons.
A smile ticked up the corners of his mouth again. ‘You are just beautiful. All of you.’
Nesta leant forwards to meet his lips again, desperate for more. His crushed against hers. She could have spent all night kissing him. Beneath her fingers, Nesta felt the strong muscles of his chest as she undid each button. Better that than tearing them off like she’d done to the first two.
His tongue swept into her mouth, meeting hers, as Eris’ hand gripped her hip. She held him tighter.
This was her husband, a man she had chosen to love. The man who had smuggled dessert to their room and a man who she had trusted enough to let him touch her hair.
With an arm gripping her to his body, Eris rolled them so that he was on top of her on the bed. The sudden shift of their position coupled with his strength to achieve it had Nesta sighing with desire. It was easy to forget that Eris was a centuries old warrior too, but he didn’t need to resort to violence at the slightest insult.
Her fingers sought the button of his trousers. They made to push it through the buttonhole but Eris caught her hand before her deviance could continue. He pulled away slightly, as if loath to do so.
‘I want to,’ he murmured. ‘Oh, I want to. But not when my mother and father are in the room next door.’
‘You are five hundred,’ Nesta reminded him.
Eris trailed kisses along her jaw then pressed one over her pulse. ‘And I’d rather my parents did not hear the first time I take my wife because I do not intend for you to be quiet.’
That did little to extinguish Nesta’s desire. She wiggled beneath him, rising her hips up to meet his body. With a flush of delight, she realised she could feel his hard length pressing against her. Eris tutted then rolled from her onto the soft bed.
‘What a temptress.’
To tempt him further, Nesta rolled onto her side, propping herself up with an elbow. Her slip was barely there – and practically sheer. Her breasts were in danger of spilling out across the mattress.
‘You’re not going to refuse your wife, surely?’
Eris pulled a pillow over his face. His voice came out muffled. ‘The most imaginable cruelty.’
Faced with Eris’ unbending will, she conceded defeat then nuzzled up next to him instead. At once, his arms came around her and she sank into the embrace. It was so different – but so wonderful – to share a bed with a partner. Previous lovers, Cassian included, she had turfed out once the act was complete, not wanting anything more from them. This was something entirely new. And yet not. It was Eris. Eris who she’d had more meaningful and enjoyable conversations with than anybody else in the last decade. It made no difference if those conversations were in a forest or wrapped up in his arms. He was always steady, always as she expected him to be. Nesta found herself delighted that Eris could restrain his desire. Both had been drinking that night, he had declared his love for her earlier then looked mortified. There was no rush. They had centuries to love each other.  
Instead of sleeping with each other, they were tucked into the bed, demolishing their way through the Winter Court’s finest puddings. It felt strange not to have a dog or two lying on the bed with them or snoring on the floor.
‘Can I ask you a question?’ He kissed her forehead after he spoke. ‘I’ve seen most of your body now – lucky me – and I haven’t seen any burns. Why are you really afraid of fire, Nesta?’
Her eyes blinked at the fire. Every now and then, tiny birds peeled off from the main body of the fire where they fluttered up towards the chimney or disintegrated mid-flight. His magic acted of its own accord sometimes as if it was an extension of him that didn’t require thought.
It was an instinct to force away those bad feelings. It felt like a weakness to admit them; another chink in her armour to be used to manipulate her. But not Eris. Although Eris could have extracted priceless information from her about Feyre and Rhysand, he had never once pursued that avenue. He had chosen her – the core of her – over her value.
‘I watched the king of Hybern snap my father’s neck. When wood spits, I’m reminded of that day.’
Eris embraced her a little tighter. ‘That must be terrible for you. I’m sorry you had to see it.
***
Silently, Eris treaded down the moonlit corridors. It was late enough for the palace to have fallen quiet, but some of the rooms he passed had murmuring voices leaking from beneath the door. The scurrying footsteps of servants could be heard; those unfortunate ones who were responsible for tidying up after the party whilst the guests slumbered.
At the door belonging to the Night Court’s rooms, he paused. This was a bad decision. Probably. He wasn’t sure who’d be on the other side of the door. Coming face to face with Cassian would likely end in a brawl. That outcome was just as likely if Morrigan answered it too.
It was, in fact, the sullen shadowsinger who stood in the doorway with shadows masking the rest of the room from Eris’ view.
‘Ah. I knew you’d be awake. Bats are nocturnal after all.’
Azriel narrowed his eyes in distaste. ‘Where’s Nesta?’
‘Asleep. I’d like to speak with your high lord.’
‘Risky,’ came Rhysand’s voice, ‘When your father is asleep a few floors up.’
The male came into view so Azriel skulked away back to a chair near the fire. Rhysand gestured for Eris to follow him into the room. In his hand, the male clutched a glass of whiskey – something to dull the nerves, Eris guessed.
There was a strange group gathered; the brute was not present, neither was Morrigan. In their place was Lucien and his doe-eyed mate. The high lady was likely in bed already.
‘Would you like a tea - I’ve just brewed it.’ The nervous address from Elain had him blinking at her in shock. Despite being Lucien’s mate, Eris supposed he was married to her sister after all. He thanked her as she poured it, still shocked by her generosity. It could be poisoned though. He took it all the same, his mood too bright to be tamed.
‘I’d like to discuss something on Nesta’s behalf.’
‘What’s that then, Eris? The fact that you are ensuring Nesta’s magic responds how you see fit?’
He sipped at his tea. ‘You sound afraid that I’m training her, Rhysand. As I understand, you struggled against her magic when Nesta was asleep. Imagine going head to head with Nesta Archeron when she's fully trained.’
‘Do you plan to use her as a weapon?’
If Rhysand was a cat, his tail would be lashing from side to side, Eris imagined. He was not foolish enough to cause a fight with a tense high lord whose pregnant mate slept in the next room. He hoped.
‘My intention was to ensure Nesta wasn’t afraid of her magic – something you overlooked.’
Rhys shrugged one shoulder. ‘She didn’t want to train it.’
‘Nor did she want to train with weapons yet that didn’t stop you from forcing her to, did it?’ His vow to not argue with Rhysand had quickly crumbled to defend Nesta’s honour. Eris offered a tight smile. ‘I imagine your lives are very busy and two newly-turned fae females arriving when your mate returned to the Spring Court was likely the least of your worries, but did you not stop and think that perhaps they needed some knowledge of this life?’
Eris held up his hand silencing Lucien’s attempts at interruptions. In the deep armchair opposite, Elain had tilted her head to one side, listening attentively.
‘You act as if Nesta is this mysterious being whose only goal is to create chaos.’ He flexed his fingers around the cup, thinking of that gorgeous female asleep in their bed with a stomach full of sugar. ‘There is no secret to understanding Nesta. I simply asked her what she would like to do with her life. I gave her a choice. She had very little knowledge of Prythian so she wanted to learn. I provided a teacher. She comes to worship with me – not because she’s a believer, but because she wanted to understand our way life. It wasn’t theirs before. I daresay Elain,’ he said, casting a glance to his brother and his mate, ‘and perhaps even Feyre could do with a basic understanding of our history and beliefs.’
‘You do enjoy the sound of your own voice, Eris.’
Rhys reclined in the chair though he was anything but relaxed. Faint tendrils of magic drifted around his hands. His body coiled with tension.
‘They grew up fearing our kind. They had little chance to adjust when they were thrust into a war. One sister you nurtured with compassion. The other was left to rot when you deemed her difficult. Nesta isn’t difficult. She’s brilliant, actually. Incredibly clever, kind, intuitive.’ He took a long sip of his tea. ‘And the difference between us, is that I’ve never held any of it over Nesta’s head. I’ve never threatened her with turfing her out to the mortal lands if she doesn’t toe the line. I quite like it when she goes against the grain. A female like her can’t be caged.’
Elain quickly finished her tea and tried to leave to sleep but Eris raised a hand again to stop her from scurrying to sanctuary. He had no quarrel with the female. There were elements of her character and behaviour that invoked his ire, but it was not his place to argue it with her. He’d be just as guilty as Rhysand if he interfered with the sisters’ relationship.
‘I came here for one reason. Nesta loves her sisters. She wants to resurrect the relationship. For her sake, I offer you salvation.’
The silence in the room was damning. Eris had them all eating from the palm of his hand, desperate for a little more. Public speaking had always been where he excelled. Words, wielded with efficiency, could wound more deeply, more deadly, than any blade.
‘I have a way to save you, your mate, and the child.’
There was no surprise from Rhysand that Eris knew of their situation. For a moment, he thought he saw hope flash in the high lord’s violet eyes. ‘It’s not possible.’
‘The babe can be cut from Feyre.’
‘No female has ever survived it,’ Rhys replied, a snarl in his tone.
Eris paused for a moment and gave a tilt of his head. ‘Not in your court.’
The shadowsinger had said nothing throughout, merely remained by the window with shadows slithering over his body, but that remark had him raising his chin. ‘Is it true?’
‘Orla,’ Eris said simply to his brother.
At the mention of her name, Lucien startled then a warm smile crossed his face. ‘Orla. Of course, she’d manage it. She is a brilliant healer. Our father’s favoured one – the only one he trusts. How is she? And Saban? How is he?’
Eris hated to take the brightness from Lucien’s expression. ‘Saban died in the war. Orla is coping well all things considered. Regardless, she is capable of carrying out the procedure. It will not be the first time she has managed it.’
Darkness plumed around Rhysand. ‘Why would I trust an Autumn Court butcher to go anywhere near my mate?’
Time to leave, Eris thought. He’d wanted to bargain for the Harp. Bargain for Nesta’s swords. But when she had fallen asleep beside him, so safe and relaxed, Eris realised he couldn’t. He loved her enough to offer up Orla because it was a good deed; one his wife would love him more for. No ulterior motives, no advantage gained. Just a happy wife whose sister lived.
‘As I understand it, all of you will be dead without an intervention anyway,’ said Eris as he rose to his feet. ‘Despite the advantage I might gain if you should die, Rhysand. If Feyre dies, I’d have to watch my wife succumb to grief – so it is in my best interests to keep you alive. Aren’t you glad we’re allies?’
@owllover123 @rarephloxes @fanboy7794 @sugardoll22 @kitkat-writes-stuff @this-is-rochelle @sv0430
107 notes · View notes
babe-bombadil · 4 months
Text
Poetry Ponderings
Summary: A short slice of life of Bilbo & Elrond's friendship.
Written for the 2023 @fall-for-tolkien event! Inspired by Teatime by @maglor-my-beloved
Rating: G
Word Count: 750
Read on AO3 or below
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Bilbo struggled up the staircase, leaning heavily on the railing. A soft grunt escaped his lips as he pulled himself up the final step. Even simple things like stairs were getting harder in his old age. His many years were finally beginning to show.
“Ah, Bilbo,” Elrond smiled as he turned around. “I’m so glad you came. I’ve been working on a new poem and I’d love to hear your thoughts on it.” He frowned, noticing the hobbit’s labored breathing. “Are you alright? Are your knees ailing you again? I shall send Lindir to bring a salve.”
“No need,” Bilbo brushed his concerns off with a wave of his hand. “I just need a chair.” Elrond pursed his lips but did not continue his protests, instead guiding his friend to a seat and placing a cushion behind his back.
“Now,” Bilbo continued once he was settled. “What was this poem you were telling me about?”
The smile returned to Elrond’s face. “I have been trying to translate it into the common tongue but it does not fit quite as perfectly. Here is the verse that has been troubling me.”
“ With dignity above that of soldiers
The tree stands tall and proud in its sentry
Guarding the world of men in their folly
Men see only the use in cutting down
Or setting aflame to make short-lived light
Elves see the beauty of a tree alive
Breathing life into all that surrounds it ”
Bilbo couldn’t stop the grin spreading over his face as he looked fondly at the elf. “Positively sublime, my friend! You elves have a spectacular way with language. However, I would perhaps change the word folly to corruption. It’s a more impactful word and makes the wickedness of cutting down trees more pronounced.”
Elrond nodded thoughtfully. “I agree the word should be changed, but corruption has too many syllables. It would interrupt the pacing of the verse.” Bilbo furrowed his eyebrows and leaned back in his chair to think.
“Misdeeds? It keeps the pacing,” he offered, but Elrond was shaking his head before he finished.
“I’m afraid that still doesn’t fit quite right.” They sat for a moment in silence, pondering and enjoying one another’s company. Rivendell truly was a sight to behold in autumn, Bilbo mused. Of course, it was breathtaking all year round, but Bilbo found he liked it best when the leaves painted themselves in vibrant hues before drifting to the ground.
“You know, I’ve been working on a poem of my own,” he commented.
Elrond raised his eyebrows. “I’d love to hear it, if you are willing.”
Bilbo cleared his throat. “It’s not very long yet but here is what I have so far:"
" I knew an old elf named Elrond
With whom I loved to correspond
In Rivendell one day
He invited me to stay
And of it I am now rather fond ” 
Arwen’s musical laugh announced her presence as she stepped delicately up to the balcony. “What a marvelous poem, Bilbo,” she praised. “We elves of Rivendell have become rather fond of you as well.” She set a tray down on the nearby table and crossed the room to clasp the old hobbit’s hands. “We shall forever sing ballads of the time when our halls were blessed with a halfling.” 
Bilbo blushed and looked down. “Surely you exaggerate, but I thank you nonetheless.”
“My daughter speaks nothing but the truth.” Elrond declared. “Now, is this strawberry tea you’ve brought, my love?” he asked, opening the teapot and smelling the contents.
“Yes,” Arwen replied. “I know it’s Bilbo’s favorite.” The hobbit in question beamed at Arwen and squeezed her hands as Elrond poured the tea. Suddenly, Bilbo drew in a sharp breath.
“Blindness!” he exclaimed.
Arwen's eyebrows drew together. “I beg your pardon?”
“Sorry, not you dear Arwen,” BIlbo clarified. “I was reffering to Elrond’s poem.” He looked up at the older elf, who tilted his head thoughtfully. “It is the perfect word to show how men are ignorant of the worth of trees!”
“Yes, yes I think that would work. Men do show a shocking lack of proper reverence for forests.” Elrond walked over to Bilbo's chair, nodding as he continued. “Guarding the world of men in their blindness. Indeed, I quite like that.”
Elrond laid a hand on the old hobbit’s shoulder. “You have my deepest gratitude, mellon nin. I knew you could aid me.” Bilbo placed his hand over Elrond’s and grinned once again.
“Always happy to help a friend.”
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ofmermaidstories · 1 year
Text
somebody (who loves me)
Bakugou x Reader
summary: Dynamight finds you crying at a fancy party. You tell him to fuck off.
(in which Reader is a comic artist who resents being told what to do, and Bakugou is a Pro Hero who resents his growing feelings)
a what-if AU, smashing together the Reader from something (just like this) and the version of Bakugou Katsuki from surrender (whenever you’re ready).
warnings: mildly rude language from both our leads
“He an ex or somethin’?”
You make a small, wet noise; disbelief. You can’t even pity yourself in peace —
“Something like that,” you say, staring resolutely at the bookshelf and hoping that the Great Hero Turd Expulsion Dynamight will get the hint and leave you alone.
He doesn’t, standing sentry in the doorway like a statue, blind and timeless and waiting and eventually you turn to frown at him. “What?” You ask pointedly. “What do you want from me?”
Dynamight scowls—twisting his beautiful face, the smoothness of it. A default expression of his, you think morosely—especially when it came to you.
“Y’re fuckin’—crying,” he says, like it’s a dirty word.
“Mm,” you agree, turning away from him to stare at the bookshelf again. “Human beings do that every now and then. You should try it sometime, maybe you’d be less of a miserable asshole.”
Even from the corner of your eye you catch it when he visibly stiffens. It was a low blow—you, fighting dirty, weaponising the night on your balcony against him. But seeing Reo here—Reo with his wife—
Your lips thin. You have no room for anyone else’s hurt but your own. You can’t—you won’t—carry Dynamight’s, too.
“I’m sorry,” you say eventually. You whisper. “I didn’t mean it. But can you just—” Your breath hitches, caught on an unexpected sob, and you squeeze your eyes tight. “I can’t do this tonight, Dynamight. Can you please just—”
The door clicks close. You open your eyes, lashes wet, and glance back—Dynamight is still there, head turned, hand spanning against the door.
He’s pushed it close. You swallow and the silence in this small, shallow excuse of a library is suffocating—with all the weight of a humid summer day.
“You don’t have to stay,” You tell him, and your voice is almost steady. “Seriously—go pick on Deku or something, I’m fine.”
Dynamight looks up, jaw tight as he meets your eyes.
You try not to swallow, to turn—to admit defeat or fear in any way. Instead you breathe in, calm, and tell yourself it means nothing when his gaze flickers down to your throat, an ember trail.
“You’re not wearing that shitty ‘lil necklace,” he says, frowning.
Your golden turtle. You nod, your face pulling down with the weight of your tears and despite yourself, they show themselves when you answer him.
“S’—he—he gave it to me,” you admit, your voice breaking on the last word.
Your sobs are great; heaving sobs that are trying to push your heart out of your chest. For a moment you stand there, weighted down, crying like a child—and the next you are being held tightly, held in close, Bakugou a broad and warm and solid post to fall apart against.
It’s like you can’t get enough air—you sob against his shoulder, trying to breathe in, trying to calm down, a careful, tentative hand curling against the nape of your neck.
This unsure touch—the way Bakugou has hovered around you—
You snuffle into the cool fabric of his suit, pressing your face in closer despite your makeup and like a cat, he rubs his cheek against your hair.
“Fuck the bastard,” he says, low, and despite yourself you give a wet laugh into his jacket, your fingers curling into the ends of it, holding him there. Admitting you want him there.
109 notes · View notes
cheri-translates · 1 year
Text
[CN] Field Training Date
🍒 Warning: Detailed spoilers for a date, 拉练之约, which has not been released in EN 🍒
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[ Released in CN: 28 September 2022 ]
[ 1 ]
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From across the bus window, the afternoon sun leaves a gentle warmth on my cheek. The swaying carriage leaves me feeling drowsy.
A vibration in my pocket rouses me awake from the tiredness. With my eyes closed, I feel around for the “answer” button on my phone.
??: We didn’t divulge anything, did we? Does Captain Gavin know that you’re coming over to visit him? What exactly did you tell him...
The moment I pick up the call, Tang Chao’s blustering voice can be heard from the other end of the line.
MC: I didn’t divulge anything, but it’d be difficult for Gavin not to know if you continued to announce my plans this loudly.
Tang Chao: Sigh. Why didn’t you tell him that you’re coming over?
MC: Your field training is in such a faraway place this time. I didn’t want him to pick me up from such a long distance.
Tang Chao: What a grand display of romance. When you reach the entrance later, just tell them who you are.
The person at the other end of the line suddenly lowers his volume before  hanging up quickly in a guilty manner.
I watch as the scene before me gradually unfolds. The thought of being able to see Gavin soon puts me in a wonderful mood.
As the STF has been conducting field training in a remote city, it’s been almost two months since I last saw Gavin.
With great difficulty, I’ve made it to the only resting day of this two-month long field training. However, the STF regulations prohibit members of the squad from leaving, and only allows family members to visit.
Gavin couldn’t bear for me to take a plane to the city, followed by a five-hour intercity bus ride and a walk up the mountain on foot. As such, he rejected my request to visit him.
But to me, the length of the journey didn’t matter at all. Being able to see him was most important. Which is why I secretly asked Tang Chao for the location of the base.
MC: I hope my “unsolicited visit” wouldn’t bring Gavin any trouble...
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After dragging my huge suitcase with much difficulty, I finally reach the final flight of steps of the mountaintop.
In front of the awe-inspiring entrance field training base, I notify the sentry about who I am and am guided to the dormitory building.
The simple dormitory building is submerged quietly in a patch of gold. Looking up, I squint against the sunlight and am stunned in place.
On the balcony of a certain dormitory on the third floor, a familiar figure is currently stretching his arms.
I smile, taking out my phone and planning to send him a text to toy with him. However, the screen shows me that Gavin had sent me a text three minutes ago.
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Gavin (text): What are you doing now?
I tilt my head to the side, giving it some thought. Then, I key in some words.
MC (text): I’m admiring a handsome guy as he stretches~
The figure upstairs stiffens in his movements. In the next second, his gaze lands on me accurately.
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Gavin: MC, what are you doing here?
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[ 2 ]
MC: Why did you lose so much weight?
Gavin and I are sitting next to each other on a simple bed in the dormitory. My gaze sweeps over him, and I find myself pinching him on the arm.
MC: You’ve become tan and your hair has grown longer too. Wait. Why do you have so many bruises?
A resigned and soft chuckle drifts to my ears, and a powerful pair of arms grip my restless hands tightly before bringing me into his arms.
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Gavin: That’s what field training is like. I’d lose weight, get a tan, and there aren’t places to get a haircut. 
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Gavin: But that’s enough about me. Why’d you come over without saying anything?
MC: I missed you…
I bury my face in his chest and give him a nuzzle. The familiar scent makes me feel at ease.
MC: After all, it’s almost two months since we last saw each other. Since it’s a rare opportunity to visit you, of course I had to seize it. Which is why I used some clever tactics to obtain the address of this location.
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Gavin: It was Tang Chao, wasn’t it?
MC: ...how’d you guess that quickly?
A hint of a smile surfaces on his lips. He lifts his hand, brushing strands of hair behind my ear.
Gavin: He loves to meddle in other people’s business. Also, he volunteered to do some tasks today, which was suspicious. He probably wanted to redeem himself.
MC: Will he be able to escape punishment?
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Gavin: Nope.
Gavin shakes his head, his gaze resolute.
Gavin: Once he returns, he’ll get his punishment.
MC: Pfft.
I quickly stand up straight, acting as though I’m ready to accept punishment from a superior.
MC: Captain Gavin should punish me too. Otherwise, I won’t be upholding justice. It was because of my longing for Captain Gavin that I asked Squadmate Tang Chao for urgent assistance. He was simply helping a citizen of Loveland City, so the “main perpetrator” was me.
Seeing that I’m pretending to be solemn, Gavin blinks while contemplating for a moment.
Gavin: In that case, your punishment is to drink less coffee when working overtime next time.
MC: How’s that possible... I rely on it to boost my energy levels and continue living!
My shoulders droop as I whine. The lifts the corners of his lips slightly.
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Gavin: If you feel tired, you could give me a call. No matter how late it is, I’ll pick up.
His sincere tone warms my heart. Just as I’m about to say something, I hear an ear-piercing alarm.
“Ding ding ding.”
Not knowing what’s happening, I watch as Gavin picks up his phone and turns off the alarm.
MC: You set an alarm for 3pm?
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Gavin: This is my alarm for additional training.
My brows furrow in confusion.
Gavin: The new recruits are very strong. If I don’t do additional training, I won’t be able to face them if I can’t match up to them during training.
MC: Wait. Does this mean that you’re giving yourself additional training?
Gavin nods.
MC: But isn’t today the only day of rest you have in this two-month long field training?
He freezes for a moment. As though realising something, he averts his gaze.
MC: You aren’t resting on such a precious resting day?
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Gavin: Cough. Well...
MC: That won’t do. Resting is the top priority of a resting day.
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Gavin’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down a few times. In the end, the corners of his lips lift in resignation and he takes my hand.
Gavin: MC, I'll get proper rest. But I have one final set of this additional training. This set is the only core training for today. Core strength is very important - it trains my strength and endurance in combat. That way, I won’t get hurt easily. Just let me complete this set, okay?
He pinches my hand, blinking his clear eyes slowly. His sharp features actually seem a little pitiful.
His choice of words and logical reasoning leave me in a daze, and I release a sigh.
MC: Okay then. But once you’re done, I’ll help you to take a little break.
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Gavin: A little break?
I arch my brows in a secretive manner.
MC: You’ll find out later.
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[ 3 ]
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MC: 385, 386...
A pair of strong and muscular legs are hooked onto the end of the bed, taut outlines appearing due to the strength of his abdominal muscles.
My gaze shifts up and down along with Gavin’s repeated crunches, and I’m unable to tear my eyes away for even a moment.
The person who is being watched keeps his scorching gaze focused on a certain spot in front of him, and his entire body seems to be filled with vitality.
His movements cause the bed frame to release regular creaking sounds. Even though he has done over three hundred consecutive crunches, he’s able to maintain a regular rhythm.
Although he doesn’t say a word, his breathing, which gradually grow heavier as he curls and relaxes, showcases the great difficulty of this exercise.
Gavin: [delicious noises]...
Sweat slowly drenches his t-shirt, causing it to stick to his skin. The muscles underneath the translucent fabric are faintly visible.
His muscles rise slightly with each exertion, and his veins quiver along with them.
But Gavin doesn’t have much of an expression. His thin lips part when he breathes out, droplets of sweat gliding down his flushed cheeks.
Every single droplet seems to pelt into the depths of my heart, tickling it and also making me feel an inexplicable dryness in my mouth.
MC: 398, 399, 400!!! Done!
I cheer while walking forward, grabbing a dry towel and wiping off his sweat.
MC: I thought the 400 crunches would be split into different sets. I didn’t expect you to finish all of them at one go. Are you very tired?
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Gavin: I’m okay. The last set of training is usually the lightest.
MC: ...this is considered light?
He takes the water in my hand with a “mm”, and I detect a hint of pride in the slight arch of his eyebrows.
MC: Wait... the last set? What sets did you do before I came?
Gavin twists the water bottle while recollecting, a serious expression on his face while he responds without putting much thought into it. 
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Gavin: Carried a 20kg load while running 6km, 2 hours of target shooting, 2 hours of kickboxing...
MC: ? You did so many sets of training? But it’s only 3pm... What time did you wake up?
Gavin: 6am.
MC: That’s before dawn.
I can’t help but purse my lips, feeling an ache surging in my heart.
MC: Didn’t you tell me that you only run and do boxing every day?
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He freezes for a moment, then scratches his head with slight awkwardness.
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Gavin: Fundamentally speaking... it’s true that I run and do boxing.
I release a sigh, deciding not to say anything more to this “terrible” person. I turn around and open my suitcase.
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Gavin: These are...
MC: A neck and shoulder massager, pillows, patches for pain relief, snacks, hair-cutting scissors...
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Gavin is stunned in place as he watches me retrieve various objects from my suitcase.
Gavin: Did you prepare all of these?
Grabbing two pillows, I place them on the simple bed, trying my best to find the most suitable angle.
MC: Yup. Before coming here, I already knew that you were having a very tough time. Eli told me that the living and eating conditions are harsher during field training, and that there aren’t places for you guys to get a haircut during this period of time.
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Gavin: ...
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Gavin: That rascal Eli betrayed me as well?
His frown of annoyance is pretty comical to me.
MC: Captain Gavin, you can deal with them next time. For now, please hand me the water basin and water bottle.
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Gavin: Why do you need the water basin and water bottle?
I pat the “recliner” that I had constructed on the simple bed, holding his shoulder while inviting him to sit down.
MC: Because I’m going to be your hairstylist today~
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[ 4 ]
Gavin: You’re going to cut my hair?
Gavin’s eyes widen slightly, revealing a rare hint of surprise.
MC: There’s nothing to worry about.
I drape the cape that I had prepared beforehand over him.
MC: I did lots of homework before coming here! Aside from learning how to cut hair, I also researched on massage techniques and how to accelerate the metabolism of lactic acid to alleviate soreness in your body.
I say this while rubbing his shoulders. He shirks his neck stiffly before gradually relaxing.
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Gavin: MC, there’s no need to trouble yourself. We should take a break together...
MC: Don’t move! If you keep struggling, I’ll have a reasonable suspicion that you doubt my skills.
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Gavin: Of course not.
MC: In that case, listen to my commands and sit down obediently!
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Gavin: ...as you command.
He cooperates, tilting his head upwards as he lies on the edge of the bed. Sunlight enters the room, softening the sharp lines of his chin.
MC: I’ll begin now~
I cup some water in my hands, damping his hair gently.
His soft hair floats in the water basin, matching the pair of sparkling eyes which are staring at me, causing my heart to become incomparably soft.
I pour shampoo onto my palm. After lathering it into foam, I rub and massage circles into his hair gently.
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Gavin seems to be feeling comfortable as he closes his eyes. Seeing him like this makes me feel playful, and I clear my throat.
MC: Mister, if you’re satisfied with my service, you could choose to sign up for a membership card.
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Gavin is stunned momentarily. Then, the corners of his lips curl upwards.
Gavin: There's no need for that.
MC: Huh? Does this feel uncomfortable?
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Gavin: Nope, it’s really comfortable. It’s just that I can’t bear to let you serve me all the time, so forget about it.
There’s an obvious sincerity in his pretence of being polite. At this moment, I feel encouraged and satisfied, and wash his hair even more meticulously.
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That pair of bright eyes continue to watch me, causing my cheeks to heat up. I wipe my hands before covering his eyes with my palm.
MC: Just enjoy it!
He chuckles mischievously before complying, hugging his arms and enjoying the experience.
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The air gradually becomes quiet. Gavin’s breathing turns regular, and he seems to be asleep.
This person always seems to have no concept of tiredness when he's with me. But he’s definitely very tired...
With this thought in mind, my actions turn gentler. I find myself holding my breath, afraid that I’d disturb his rare time of relaxation.
After a moment, I carefully wipe his hair with a dry towel, then prop his neck up with a pillow before trimming his hair.
Even though I took a few classes earnestly, it still takes up quite a lot of energy and focus to cut Gavin’s hair.
By the time I’m done cutting his hair, an hour has gone by. I release a huge breath. Just as I’m about to examine the results, I notice that lots of stray hairs have fallen into his collar.
I pick up a small brush, prepared to clear them out. But when I happen to look down his collar, I noice a huge patch of red near his heart.
I’m taken aback for a moment. My brows furrow instinctively as I take a closer look, realising that those red patches are sunburnt skin, and there are several bruises beside them.
MC: ...
There’s a slight stinging sensation in my nose. I reach out, wanting to touch that startling patch of skin. However, the person in front of me suddenly stirs.
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Lifting my head, I see that Gavin is staring at me, bleary-eyed.
Gavin: What’s wrong?
MC: Tell me the truth. Are you hiding anything from me?
His bleary eyes blink twice, and he seems to have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about.
MC: Do you remember what you always said when we talked over the phone?
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Gavin: That I missed you a lot?
MC: [blushing] ...not that!
I clear my throat before bringing the conversation back.
MC: Whenever we talked over the phone, you would only share trivial details. For instance, how a tiny dragonfly landed on your hat during training, how Tang Chao complained about not feeling full after eating five bowls of rice... Since you always shared these light-hearted things with me, I started to genuinely think that field training might not be that tough.
Gavin: It really isn’t tough.
He takes over the conversation. I cut to the chase, tugging on his collar and signalling with my eyes for him to look at the “proof” of him being riddled with injuries.
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Gavin: ...these are actually okay. For the previous field training, we had to walk through a forest and handle our own food and shelter. If we weren’t able to find a cave to stay in during torrential rain, it was normal to spend the night in the mud.
The more I listen to his words, the more upset my expression becomes. Gavin quickly realises this, and he immediately stops.
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Gavin: ...in short, I’m doing very well.
He brings me into his arms, pressing his head against my chest while acting slightly coy.
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Gavin: I feel especially happy when training ends and I get to read your texts where you ask about my well-being and share details of your daily life.
My eyes land on his fluffy head, and my heart softens into mush.
MC: In that case, you shouldn’t be doing additional training on your only day of rest. You’re working hard enough on normal days...
Gavin lifts his head with a soft chuckle. Then, he shifts backwards and lies down on the bed before pulling me down to lie beside him.
Gavin: Do I look like I’m having a very tough time?
MC: Not really. I understand the nature of your work and know better than anyone else that Gavin is such a person. But I can’t bear to see you suffering any hardships. Haven’t you heard of the saying - that if you like someone, you’d find him very “pitiful” and can’t bear to see him suffer even the slightest hardship?
Gavin: I see.
His smile climbs into his eyes, and his serious gaze lands on my face.
Gavin: Reporting to the Commanding Officer - I won’t be as “pitiful” in the future.
MC: Hmph, that better be the case...
I purse my lips, pinching his cheeks unhappily.
MC: But despite what you said, you’ve always had strict standards for yourself. I’m afraid I can’t make you loosen up. I understand you very well, and I know that you have your own aspirations and requirements for yourself. So... there’s only one thing I can do.
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Gavin: What is it? 
I clear my throat, meeting his eyes with a serious expression.
MC: Next time, I’ll always keep in mind the hardships you go through and your tiredness. Since Gavin doesn’t know how to care for himself, MC has no choice but to care for him!!
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Gavin doesn’t respond. Volumes of affection surge in the depths of his eyes as he looks at me. In the next second, he reaches out and brings me into his arms.
The setting sun casts a lingering yellowish warmth over us, as though wanting this warmth to pause here forever.
Gavin: The things you said have made me forget all of the hardships. All that’s left is happiness. 
MC: I never knew that my words were that miraculous?
I joke with a chuckle, and a resolute voice drifts into my ears.
Gavin: In order for the squad to remain cautious and not fall into deep sleep, the bed frames are very hard. But now that I’m hugging you, I actually find that this small bed is really comfortable. Thank you for coming here and giving me a day of rest. And thank you for caring about me on my behalf.
An uncontrollable smile dyes the corners of my lips. Feeling contented, I take a deep breath and fill the depths of my heart with Gavin’s scent.
It seems that the tiredness of my journey this morning is finally taking effect, and my eyelids grow heavy. But something occurs to me, and I poke him on the chest.
MC: Gavin, aren’t you going to look at yourself in the mirror to see how the haircut turned out?
Gavin: No need - I have a lot of faith in your skills.
Hearing this frank response, I feel even more contented as I nuzzle into his arms.
In my daze, I secretly agree with what Gavin said.
Even though this small bed is very hard and very tiny, it also seems very comfortable and very huge.
For a moment, I feel as if -
This is the entire world.
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✧ Call l Moments
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Savior
A new Rhaemond drabble!  Blabbity blah it is obv a no Dance of Dragons AU, y’all know the drill everybody loves everybody etc ANYWAYS It’s the day before Aemond marries Rhaena and he finally has a real conversation with her about the claiming of Vhagar.
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Aemond quite liked this little balcony near the sea.  Often it was used by Daemon to train a bit with Ser Criston but for today, he had requested it be done up for a private dinner for him and his betrothed.  The Cargyll twins stood sentry by the wall some ways away, giving them their privacy but keeping them in line of sight.
A small rectangular table with a deep red cloth and two chairs facing the sea...assorted little cheeses and scones...two goblets of ale (Rhaena had apparently never tried it before coming to the Red Keep and immediately took a liking to it when Aemond had given her some)...a vase with a cherry blossom branch...and his Rhaena sitting and waiting for him, watching as Vhagar flew in the distance.  Her own dragon, Morning, was still the size of a small cat but someday they would fly together.
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“She does enjoy showing off, when she’s aware she has an audience,” Aemond said, joining her at the table.  The smile of delight she graced him with warmed his heart.  Too many lemon cakes and he grew sick of them, despite being his favorite, but Rhaena’s smiles? If anything, he felt he never got enough of them.
“As she should!” Rhaena added in mock indignation. “Why shouldn’t she show off her beauty?” 
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Aemond took Rhaena’s hand.  “You think she is beautiful?  Truly?  Is she not fearsome to you?”  
He was smiling still...but Rhaena sensed the conversation had shifted in a different direction... Her own smile left her face but her manner of speaking was reassuring.
“Of course!  She has her own kind of beauty.  Granted, every dragon has their differences but what other dragon has what *she* has?  Her demeanor, her battle scars, and ESPECIALLY her ferocity are what make her absolutely magnificent.”
Aemond smiled and looked away from Rhaena, towards the sea at his dragon.  “Do you regret it?  Not having the chance to claim her..because of me?  I know you have said countless times you made your peace with it-”
“I have, my love.” Still holding his other hand, Rhaena tilted Aemond’s head toward her, boring into his one functional eye with both of hers.  “I have long since made my peace with it and not just that...but I am grateful that you claimed her when you did.”
Aemond looked momentarily puzzled but Rhaena continued.
“...I often think of it, if you had not claimed her.  Do you know what probably would have happened?  I wouldn’t have made the attempt the next day.  Or the next.  Or for a long while after that.  Who is to say Vhagar would have remained on Driftmark, waiting around for a mere human to claim her?  I felt like the world had stopped when I lost my mother...it would have been weeks before I felt like I had the sufficient fortitude to make the attempt to claim her former dragon...”
Aemond kept listening intently, stroking the hand she was holding with his .  Rhaena still held onto his face, hand on his cheek.
“...if you hadn’t claimed Vhagar when you did...I think she would have flown away before I could try...think how lonely she would have been.. Mother was the first rider to claim her since Visenya.  Visenya!  Decades of loneliness, my love, before my mother finally found her.  Just...the thought of having almost done that to her again, subjecting her to such solitude, even if unintentionally...” Rhaena brought her forehead against Aemond’s, both nuzzling into the other. “You saved her, Aemond.  You were brave enough not only to dismiss rules of decorum but to stand before the biggest dragon in the world...you saved her and she knows it.  I know she does.”
Tears were streaming down Rhaena’s face at this point, Aemond wiping them away, peppering her forehead with gentle kisses.  A mighty roar from Vhagar broke the somewhat melancholy air, and both of them giggled.
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