#bathed in her sisters light that she tries to shut out. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kingofsummer93 · 6 months

Text

Northern Lights in Our Skies

Summary:

Two years after the war with Hybern, a looming conflict once again threatens Prythian's fragile peace. With the safety of the human lands at risk, Elain jumps at the opportunity to act as emissary to a distant, mysterious realm.

That she will get to expand her horizons along the way is a bonus she'll gladly take.

That she'll have to do so while masquerading as Lucien Vanserra's wife, on the other hand, is something she'll need some getting used to.

Ao3 | Masterlist

Chapter 4

A/N: Let me know if you'd like to be added to or removed from my tag list!

There was something different about the sunshine in the Day Court. Elain couldn’t explain it, but when she woke the next morning with golden rays of early morning sunshine streaming in through the billowy curtains at her windows, the air felt alive with magic. Not in the way that it always was, in Prythian, but like the sun itself held some kind of warming, buzzing power.

The sunken bath on her balcony was now steaming and fragrant with lavender oil, where the night before it had been refreshingly cool. It was early, and the breeze off the ocean held just enough of a bite for the warm bath to be inviting.

After her bath she ignored all the dresses she had brought with her in favor of rifling through the wardrobe in her suite as she had done the night before. The fabrics were light and gauzy, the cuts simple and understated and yet elegant. There were no corsets or petticoats or lacing or any of that cumbersome nonsense that human fashions favored.

How odd, Elain realized, to think of them as human fashions. Odder still to think that just a little over two years ago she had been happily flitting around a ballroom at the height of the season in one of those dresses.

If old Elain could see her now, she would probably faint. Better yet, if her mother could see her now, she’d probably burn directly from the grave.

It was an unkind thought, and not one she would ever have said out loud, but it was true. Her mother had been a strict rule-follower, if nothing else. For Nesta, that had meant endless lessons on the many things that made the difference between being a girl and being a lady: ballroom dancing, needlework, proper posture, just enough literature to not seem obtuse. But most important of all- how to wage war with her words. Nesta had been her mother’s weapon, a weapon that had been honed to a fine point since she had shown the first sign of the inner fire that fueled her.

And if Nesta had been their mother’s weapon, then Elain had been her jewel. The pretty thing to bring out and put on display, the charming, eloquent princess who could move her way through a room and make friends with as little as a smile.

Elain knew her sisters thought her silly, or simple-minded. Or, at best, lacking the kind of ambition and drive that they had in troves. They didn’t realize there was a different kind of power in making people believe you weren’t paying attention. Being a dreamer didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of absorbing the here and now, and wielding it to her advantage when it suited her best.

She shut the wardrobe with a snap. Whatever they said, however they tried to cajole her, she would go to Bharat with Lucien. She’d prove to them that she was worth something to their Court, even if she couldn’t wield weapons like Nesta or magic like Feyre.

Her gaze landed on the yellow gown she had worn the night before. A princess of the Day Court, Lucien had called her. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered the pang of longing she’d felt as she noticed his gaze on her.

It had made her uncomfortable before, just as agonizing as her own senseless attraction to him. But at least now she knew it was simply the mating bond, and perhaps a touch of simple attraction. He might desire her, but he didn’t want her, not in the way that her sisters’ mates couldn’t live without them. He had wanted another, and she had been taken from him. Elain was nothing but a shackle for him, something he had never asked for or wanted.

It might have made her selfish to think so, but it made the thought of him so much more bearable. They could work together, perhaps become friends. Their easy conversation the night before had certainly made it seem like that could be a possibility. And maybe eventually the novelty of their mutual attraction would fade, and they would laugh at how morbidly awkward they had been around each other.

She was just slipping on the yellow dress when there was a polite knock at her door. Elain sighed, but squared her shoulders. She’d have to face her sisters eventually, she supposed.

“Come in!”

The door opened and a head poked into the room. “Hello! Can I come in?”

It wasn’t one of her sisters, but a startlingly beautiful female. Her skin was deep and warm, like Helion’s, and her hair was a cascade of luscious onyx curls. She was grinning at Elain almost conspiratorially, as though they’d met before.

“Oh! Of course.” Elain smiled back warmly, thinking the female must be a servant.

“I’m Sydney,” the female continued. “You must be Elain. Helion sent me to escort you to breakfast.”

Elain’s heart dropped. There it was- the ambush.

“Thank you,” she forced herself to say. It wasn’t this poor girl’s fault she was escorting her to a High Inquisition. “Do you mind helping me with my hair?”

Sydney blinked, her azure blue eyes flashing with the briefest hint of surprise before twinkling with what could only be interpreted as mischief. Elain wondered if she had just made some kind of faux-pas. Did servants here not help ladies get dressed?

“Sure!” Sydney trilled, bounding over to the vanity laid out with an array of cosmetics, combs, and accessories. “What are we thinking?”

“I usually wear it down but I’d like to tie it back. It got so frizzy yesterday with the heat.” Elain eyed Sydney’s own shiny, bouncy curls enviously as the female began running a comb through her hair. “How does your hair stay so smooth?”

Sydney flashed her another easy grin. “Took me about a century to figure it out. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. Would you like some tea?”

“Oh! Yes, please, that would be lovely.”

Elain expected her to leave, or call another servant, but the female merely snapped her fingers and a tea service appeared on the vanity. She couldn’t help a small gasp of surprise. This was no small bit of magic, even she could recognize that. It seemed even more extraordinary for a simple servant to possess such power.

Sydney poured her a cup, and returned her attention to her hair. The tea was fragrant, slightly sweet, and tinged a bright shade of pink.

“Hibiscus,” Sydney said, as if reading her mind. “A Day Court specialty.”

Elain made a mental note to look for the tea in the Palaces when she returned to Velaris.

“So!” Sydney said cheerfully as she smoothed some type of oil through Elain’s curls, “you’re Lucien Vanserra’s mate, right?”

Elain almost spit her mouthful of tea all over herself. She gulped, choking on the liquid as it slid down her windpipe. Sydney merely grinned at her, her gaze full of wicked humor. She was quite bold, for a servant, Elain decided.

“That’s, um…I mean. Yes.”

“You're one lucky female. I’d watch your back if you go into the city, though. Lucien’s got plenty of friends here who would kill to be in your position.”

“Excuse me?” Elain spluttered. Her cheeks were turning a fierce shade of red, and she was instantly regretting having asked this female to help her with her hair.

Sydney only hummed as she twirled and tucked, jeweled hair pins stuck in her mouth as she frowned in concentration. “Is it true, then?” she asked around her mouthful of pins.

Elain folded her hands in her lap primly, willing her burning cheeks to cool. “Is what true?”

Sydney caught her gaze in the vanity mirror and smirked. She actually smirked. The audacity of this servant-

“Do Autumn Court males fuck like they have fire in their veins?”

Elain was glad she hadn’t taken another sip of tea, or this time it would have sprayed all over the vanity.

“Do…what did you just say?” She was suddenly sweating. What did that even mean? Images flashed through her mind in rapid succession, each more lewd than the last. Mismatched eyes shining with desire and mischief, lips soft on her skin as his hot breath tickled her ear.

“Say it…”

She cleared her throat, shaking her head a little to dispel the lurid memories of those dreams. Dreams that had to be dreams, because the alternative was that they were somehow real.

Sydney chuckled. “Oh dear. I’ve embarrassed you.” She didn’t seem at all repentant about it.

“I’m not-I don’t…I mean.” Elain cleared her throat again.

Sydney was still laughing, clearly amused by her mortification. Elain lifted her chin, even though she wanted nothing more than to slide to the floor and disappear right into the marble tiles. “You mean you’re not one of his many friends?”

The servant howled. Elain tried and failed to keep herself from smiling. There was just something so carefree about the female that was irresistible, even if her line of questioning was absurd.

“Oh, he wished I was,” Sydney quipped. “You should have known him when he was young, he was the worst rogue in all seven courts.”

She tucked a final piece of hair and leaned back to admire her handiwork as Elain squirmed. She didn’t want to know these things about Lucien. And yet- she felt a morbid curiosity to know more.

“There! All done.”

Her hair had somehow been tamed into shiny, undulating waves, shining more golden than brown in the sunshine. Sydney had pinned half of it back in an intricate chignon at the back of her head, with the rest tumbling gently over one shoulder.

“Thank you!” Elain stood, grateful to be able to escape this conversation.

“Any time. If you move here I’m happy to stop by every morning.” Something about that seemed to amuse the female greatly.

Elain had no idea how to answer that. “Um. Would you mind…”

“Of course! Come with me.”

Sydney looped her arm around Elain’s and led her out the door, practically bouncing with every step. As they walked through the sunny palace, guards and courtiers made way for them, inclining their heads towards Sydney in polite nods. How odd, Elain wondered. Perhaps Sydney was favored at the palace? Perhaps…she blushed as something occurred to her. Perhaps she was a different sort of servant?

“I’m serious, you know,” the female said with a grin. “I’m sure Helion would be happy to give you a place at the Day Court, if you wished.”

Elain almost stumbled over her own feet. She thought of those dreams she had, dreams that weren’t dreams, filled with images of the Day Court. White sand beaches, talls swaying palms, a palace made of radiant, sunshine-infused marble.

“Why would he do such a thing?”

Sydney gave her another one of those grins that made Elain feel as if she was missing something. She shrugged. “He has a soft spot for beautiful females.”

It was Elain’s turn to laugh. Normally she would have been affronted at such a comment, but the female’s mirthful tone held no jealousy, or malice.

“Well. We’ll see about that.”

“I hear you and Lucien are going on quite the mission.”

Elain felt herself break into a sweat. How fast did gossip spread here? She remembered what Feyre had said about Thesan’s palace at the Dawn Court, and how even the birds there reported to him. Perhaps there were things other than fae ears reporting secrets to Helion here.

They reached a wide veranda on one of the upper levels, and Sydney opened the door and ushered her inside with a flourish. Her sisters were already seated at a circular table laden with a variety of pastries, fruits, dried meats and cheeses, along with a rainbow of freshly pressed juices and pots of coffee and tea. The sparkling turquoise sea was shimmering in the distance, while the city rose to their left like a wall of sparkling white and blue. Elain thought it was quite possibly the most peaceful place she had ever been.

“Thank you-” she started saying to the servant, but the female had bounded forward and dipped into a quick curtsey.

“High Lady,” she said with a grin. “I’ve heard so much about you. And you must be Nesta,” she added, turning to her older sister.

Her sisters smiled politely, both looking slightly annoyed at the interruption. “Hello,” Feyre said politely as Nyx squirmed in her lap. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Silly me!” the female said as she walked right up to the table and sat in a chair next to Feyre. “I’m Sydney.”

Nesta inhaled deeply in a way that Elain knew meant trouble.

“Spell-Cleaver,” Sydney added, popping a raspberry into her mouth. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long. My cousin talks about your family all the damn time.”

Elain’s mouth fell open. Sydney…Spell-Cleaver?

“You’re Helion’s cousin?” she blurted.

Sydney smiled broadly. The humor sparkling in her vivid blue eyes reminded Elain of the sunshine bouncing off the sea in the distance, like a thousand pinpricks of radiant light. “Sure am.”

“But…” Elain was mortified. “I thought you were a servant!” She clapped a hand to her mouth as soon as the words slipped out.

Sydney threw her head back and laughed. “I know! I’m sorry about that, but I couldn’t resist. Helion is going to laugh himself hoarse when I tell him.”

Elain hid her face behind her hands. “Please don’t. Why didn’t you say something?” Oh gods, she had asked the High Lord’s cousin to help her with her hair!

Nesta coughed pointedly as Sydney fixed herself a plate and lounged back in her seat, completely at ease. “It was nice to meet you,” her sister said in a poisonous tone that indicated it had been anything but pleasant. “But we have a private matter we’d like to discuss with our sister.”

Elain sighed and sat at the table, going through the arguments she’d prepared. She hated this. Confrontations of any kind usually left her so frustrated that they brought her to tears, at which point she’d lose track of why she’d been arguing in the first place.

“Ah, of course,” Sydney replied easily. “Elain’s trip to Bharat with her mate, yes?” Elain could have sworn there was a slight emphasis on the word mate, but she might have imagined it.

Feyre’s eyes narrowed. “How did you-”

“Did you think your advisors were the only ones who should know about this?” Sydney asked sweetly. Her blue eyes were still alight with dancing pinpricks of light, though instead of conveying warmth, they suddenly looked alive with threat.

“Lucien is a member of my court,” Feyre started indignantly. Lucien. Of course she’d mention just him, and not Elain as well.

“Is he though?” Sydney asked, tilting her head to the side. “Rumor is he doesn’t spend very much time in Velaris at all.”

“His duties involve a fair bit of travel back and forth, yes-”

“And what about Elain?”

“What about me?” Elain asked defensively, before either of her sisters could say anything.

“Do you get a say in your life, or does that get decided for you, too?”

Elain was too stunned to reply.

“Excuse me?” Feyre stood up and planted her hands on the edge of the table. It was such a Rhysand gesture that Elain almost laughed. “I don’t know what kind of accusations-”

“Within the borders of the Day Court,” Sydney interrupted, “mating bonds are a kind of law onto themselves. But females are given the freedom of choice, and that choice supersedes anything else.”

“What does that mean?” Nesta spat.

“It means that if a female chooses to accept a mating bond, then any marriage or previous engagement is considered void.”

Elain’s heart dropped like a stone as she realized what Sydney was doing. What Helion was doing, likely, by having sent her to have this conversation with her sisters. She didn’t know whether to be excited and grateful for the support, or mortified at standing up to her sisters this way. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

Feyre opened her mouth, but Sydney held up a hand to silence her. Elain marveled again at the audacity. But then again, if it had taken her a century to figure out how to style her hair, this female was likely hundreds of years old and unintimidated by the twenty-two year old in front of her, High Lady or not.

“And it means that if anyone tries to keep that female away from her mate,” she continued, her voice sweet as honey but vicious as poison, “then that person would be breaking the law.” Silence. Elain’s heart was thundering so loudly in her ears she was shocked nobody had commented on it yet.

“Are you suggesting,” Feyre started quietly, eyes still narrowed upon the female, “that I would somehow force Elain to stay away from Lucien?”

“I’m sorry,” Sydney replied sweetly. “I must be mistaken. Was it not you who locked up your own sister?”

Nesta had gone very still. “Careful.”

Sydney bit into a pasty, momentarily closing her eyes and moaning with bliss. Elain felt a sudden, irresistible urge to laugh.

“I’ll need to go shopping,” Elain declared, clearing her throat. “None of the clothes I brought from home will work for Bharat’s climate, or for traveling.”

Gentle talons slid into her consciousness, and Elain shivered despite herself. It felt like a violation every time Feyre or Rhysand did this, no matter how innocent their intentions.

Elain, her sister’s tone was placating, and Elain was immediately irritated. If you want to spend time with Lucien we can arrange it…

Elain dropped her fork with a clatter. “You can arrange it?” Suddenly she couldn’t care less that there was a stranger at the table with them. “You mean somewhere where you can supervise, because I’m a child and not a grown woman capable of making her own decisions about what I can do and where I can go and who I’d like to spend time with?”

Feyre shot a quick glance at Sydney, her face stricken. Clearly her sister was less than keen on starting a full-on argument in front of this female who would no doubt report back to Helion on everything that was said. Elain almost hoped the female would gossip.

“No,” Feyre said calmly. “That’s not what I think, you know that-“

“I don’t know that, Feyre.” Elain’s throat was constricting, and she fought to keep her composure. This was why she hated confrontation. Anger made her break down into tears as surely as grief. “I’m sorry if that upsets you, but the truth is that you haven’t done anything to make me believe any differently.”

There was a heavy silence, broken only by the faint whispering of the palm fronds swaying in the breeze, and the crashing of the waves below them.

“Lucien is your friend,” she continued, more gently. “He’s a good male, you keep saying so yourself. You’re the one who kept asking me to spend time with him!”

“I didn’t mean on a dangerous mission halfway across the world!”

“Besides,“ Nesta was still looking at her incredulously, “you hate Lucien!”

Elain flushed as Sydney chuckled good-naturedly. “I don’t hate him! I don’t even know him.”

Feyre took a deep breath, no doubt ready to use that particular missive to prove her point, but Elain cut her off. “Feyre, I’ve made my choice. If you forbid me to go you’ll have to do it as my High Lady and not as my sister, and you’ll be forcing me to make a choice I don’t want to make.”

Another heavy silence. Feyre seemed to deflate slightly, looking more like her twenty-two year old sister than a High Lady. There was a loud clattering noise as Sydney dropped her fork and pushed her plate away.

“So!” she declared, rubbing her hands. “Shopping, then?”

---

Lucien had a headache, and it had the exact shape and size as the male seated at the table across from him. There had been no ceremony, but gods be damned, Helion had certainly planned a reception.

A casual dinner between allies to celebrate the end of the summit, is what he had called it. A wedding reception was what it actually resembled.

The assembled guests were more cheerful than Lucien thought was wholly appropriate, and more than a few seemed to find the whole thing thoroughly amusing. None more so than Helion, the maître de ceremonie himself, lounging back in his chair and lifting his glass in absurd toasts every few minutes.

Lucien had to give it to the male, he certainly didn’t spare any expense when it came to parties. The dinner was held on a private section of beach at the base of the palace, with the mirror-calm ocean on one side and the imposing structure of marble and gold on the other. A long table had been bedecked in crisp white linen, what felt like solid gold plates and cutlery, and crystal goblets so fine they glittered in the moonlight.

Swaths of gauzy cloth had been draped overhead in a makeshift pagoda, and bobbing fae lights gave the space an intimate, cozy atmosphere. It would have been a lovely evening, were it not for the complete absurdity of it. And were it not for the fact that in the morning he’d be leaving for a long, potentially dangerous mission with none other than his mate.

Elain looked so breathtaking tonight that he could hardly look at her. He felt queasy every time he did so, wrecked by equal parts shame and uncontrollable longing. She’d let her hair down, a few pieces in front held back by golden pins to expose the delicately pointed tips of her ears. Her dress was once again in the Day Court style, gauzy blush-pink fabric that matched the color of the sky as the sun descended over the horizon.

Helion’s deep voice boomed over the din of clicking cutlery and chatter, followed by a wave of laughter. Lucien’s migraine gave a twinge in response.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, to no one in particular. Not that anybody was listening- slipping away from what was his fake wedding reception was comically easy.

Lucien walked along the beach until the flour-soft sand gave way to a rocky outcropping, the sounds of the feast slowly drifting away to a low buzz. Soon the only sounds were the gentle breaking of the waves onto the shore, and the rustling of palm fronds in the breeze.

He had just slumped on the edge of the water and yanked off his boots when his skin prickled in recognition of a presence behind him, though there had been no noise. An earthy, warm scent mixed with the salt of the ocean, and Lucien tensed mid-motion.

“Impossible to be alone in this court, is it?” he asked, his stiff posture betraying what he knew was an unconvincingly casual tone. He briefly considered the repercussions of simply walking or winnowing away before the male behind him could say anything.

“Interesting complaint from someone with the reputation of being a hedonist.” Helion’s voice held its usual mischief, though to Lucien’s ears it sounded slightly forced. Some petty part of him was glad for the male’s discomfort.

Lucien laughed drily. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. He bit back on the retort before it could get him killed. It suddenly occurred to him how far from the party he’d walked, and how alone they were. Every encounter he’d previously had with Helion had been under the mountain, or in Velaris, surrounded by Feyre’s court. It was unnerving, being alone with him- uncharted territory he wasn’t ready to explore.

Lucien got to his feet reluctantly, taking a few unconscious steps back. His socks were slippery on the damp rock, and for a wild moment he pictured Helion simply pushing him into the waves, his skull cracking open like an egg.

Dead at his own fake wedding. There had never been a better metaphor for his pathetic life.

Helion tracked his movements with a frown. “I’m not your enemy, you know.”

Lucien huffed another laugh, remembering his conversation with Cassian the previous year. I’m not your enemy, you know. It was a foolish statement. They were all playing their own games, the rules of which were unknown to anyone but themselves.

“That’s good to know. I have enough of those as it is.”

Helion crossed his powerful arms, raising a sardonic eyebrow. “And I’m sure that serpentine tongue had nothing to do with earning you any of them.”

“Did you follow me out here to chat about all my deficiencies or was there something else?” Lucien snapped. He bit his tongue as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Truly, would he ever stop with the death wish?

Helion stared at him for a beat, the expression in his amber eyes unreadable. “That temper’s pure Autumn, I’ll give you that.” His gaze flicked around Lucien’s features, as if searching for something. “So is that hair.” Something seemed to shift in his stance, a hairline crack piercing his steely exterior.

Lucien looked away, his gut roiling with dread. There was a reason he’d avoided this truth- as had the male before him, for that matter.

“And the rest?” he asked, clumsily bending down to shove his boots back on. So much for his moment of peace. “Is that not Autumn as well?”

Helion was silent for so long, unmoving, that Lucien had to fight the urge to fidget. “I didn’t know,” he said finally, so quietly Lucien could barely make out his words over the sound of the waves.

A wave of nausea rose so quickly in him he thought he might hurl all over the High Lord’s sandaled feet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I didn’t know, Lucien!” he said again, his deep voice cracking in anguish. Something about seeing the usually unruffled, jovial male showing such vulnerability made him want to look away.

This was madness. His heart was beating so wildly he was sure Helion could probably hear it. There was a reason he’d never said anything, had simply accepted the truth of his existence without looking at it too closely. Prythian wasn’t the kind of place where a truth like that could live in the light without any repercussions.

“And I don’t know what in the cauldron you’re-”

Lucien’s voice died in his throat as a vice wrapped itself around his throat. In an instant he was no longer on a beach in the Day Court, but hurtled back in time to the stone floor of a throne room, held down by invisible shackles. He fought to quell the rising panic as his legs buckled underneath him, rocks biting into his knees painfully.

“Stop-” His voice came out as a painful rasp as the invisible grip around his throat tightened. The foreign magic in his veins thrummed to life, begging for release. Like calls to like. Even with his lungs struggling for breath, Lucien suddenly felt an absurd urge to laugh.

“Do it yourself,” Helion urged as magic radiated from him in a golden halo. “Or do you still not know what I’m talking about?”

Lucien’s vision was going blurry. He pawed uselessly at his throat, his hands grappling with chains he couldn’t see or grasp. Damn him. Damn this infuriating peacock of a male.

The power exploded out of him in a burst of white light, uncontrolled and wild, like a river breaking free of a dam. The grip on his neck vanished, and he took in shaky lungfuls of air as the magic momentarily blinded him. From somewhere above him Helion let out a sound that was halfway between a gasp and a moan of anguish.

“Was that necessary?” Lucien spat, struggling to his feet, his fists clenched uselessly at his sides.

“I didn’t know!” Helion said for the third time. He ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair, looking so uncharacteristically frazzled that Lucien almost felt bad for him. “Not for certain. If I had-”

“You would have what?!” Lucien was aware his voice was rising, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “You would have stormed the Autumn Court and started a war? Maybe gotten my mother killed in the process?”

The ground shuddered beneath him. “Careful,” Helion warned. He was still glowing faintly in the glare of the setting sun, but it was nothing like the soft, warm glow that Feyre sometimes emanated. There was something dangerous about this male, and the magic he wielded. The same magic that flowed through Lucien’s veins, he remembered with a nauseating lurch.

“Or maybe you just wish you could have gotten me killed when you had the chance?” he continued, centuries of anguish bursting out of him in a torrent of word vomit. “That way you could have avoided the whole nasty business altogether.”

“Don’t be absurd. You’re lashing out at the wrong person.”

Lucien’s laugh was mirthless. “And who is the right person? Beron? Maybe I should pay my dear father a visit and see what he has to say about this situation?”

Helion flinched at the emphasis on father. For a moment they simply stared at each other like two exhausted cage fighters, both seemingly unwilling to either concede or keep fighting.

“You could have a place here, you know,” Helion said finally, taking a tentative step forward as if to avoid spooking him. “Your place is here.”

Lucien laughed again. It seemed the only thing he was capable of doing anymore. Maybe he was losing his mind after all.

“Now who’s being absurd? How exactly would that look, me living here?” He chose to ignore what else Helion’s words implied. Your place is here. Those words were too complicated to process for someone who hadn’t belonged anywhere in centuries. Or perhaps ever.

“If this thing goes according to plan, your father won’t be anybody’s problem anymore,” Helion replied darkly.

For a moment Lucien could only stare. “What?”

Helion shrugged. “War is messy. Casualties are to be expected. All I’m saying is-” He stopped short and whirled.

“Sorry!” a small voice squeaked.

Lucien’s stomach dropped as he looked around Helion and found Elain standing there, eyes wide.

“Sorry!” she said again, wringing her hands. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, it’s a bad habit. That’s what happens when you’re friends with wraiths.” She laughed nervously, her eyes pinging back and forth between him and Helion. “Anyway, sorry for interrupting, I’ll just-”

“Nonsense!” Helion boomed, cutting off her ramblings. He slipped back into his usual persona without so much as a blink. “You’re not interrupting anything. I’ll get out of your hair and leave you two love birds to it, shall I?” He winked lasciviously, and with a flash of light disappeared into the night.

Lucien felt like he’d been punched in the gut. For a moment he wasn’t sure whether he was about to burst into deranged laughter or simply hurl. He settled for slumping to the ground with a decidedly ungraceful huff.

“What was that?” Elain asked quietly. “Are you alright?”

Even mentally drained as he was he still marveled briefly at the fact that his mate had just checked in on his well-being. He glanced at her carefully. “Did you…what exactly did you hear?”

Elain’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Oh! Nothing, really, just…something about your father? I promise I didn’t mean to snoop…”

Lucien sagged a little in relief. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Different day, different disaster. Story of my life, really.”

Elain sat carefully on the rocks beside him, smoothing out the gauzy fabric of her dress. In the burning light of the setting sun she was glowing with health, so at odds with the gaunt, lifeless female she’d been when he’d first laid eyes on her.

“You know, all I ever wanted was a quiet life.” He didn’t know what made him say it, but it was true. All he’d truly ever wished for was to escape his family’s backstabbing court and live a simple life with someone he loved. No amount of traveling or running away from his duties had ever brought him closer to finding it.

She shot him a suspicious look. “That’s a bold claim for someone who seems to jump into danger the first chance he gets.” Her chocolate brown eyes were twinkling with humor, and it was an effort not to get lost in them.

“Trouble finds me, I’ll have you know.”

“Sometimes I wish more trouble would find me,” Elain said quietly. “A quiet life is nice and all, until you start talking to your plants out of boredom.”

Lucien blinked in surprise, both at the admission and her apparent willingness to talk to him. He wondered how long it would be until the novelty wore off. If he was honest with himself, he thought the answer was perhaps never.

“Seems we both have things to learn from each other, then,” he said wryly. “I’ll teach you how to find trouble if you teach me how not to jump feet-first into danger.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted them. It sounded too much like a desperate plea for her to spend time with him.

Elain only laughed. “Sounds like a plan.”

The distant sounds of revelry seemed to intensify, and Elain glanced down the beach with a slight frown.

“I’m sorry about all this,” Lucien blurted. “I know our…connection makes you uncomfortable. I can’t imagine any of this makes it easier.”

To his surprise she waved off his concern. “It’s fine. I know you’re not exactly thrilled about it either.” Lucien opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. “And, about that...” An embarrassed flush was rising up her neck and cheek, and Lucien forced himself to sit still and not lean towards her eagerly. “I know I haven’t exactly been very kind to you in the past, and I…well, I’m sorry.” Her words came out in a rush, as if she was convincing herself to say them before she lost her nerve.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Lucien said quickly. His heart was pounding, and not for the first time he wished she didn’t have the ability to hear it.

“Maybe…” She bit her lip shyly, and Lucien had to look away. He had to get a grip if he was going to survive being around her. “Maybe we could be…I don’t know, friends?”

She said it so tentatively, as though it was a foreign word whose meaning she didn’t fully understand. A warm, desperate hope suddenly bloomed in his chest, and he prayed to whoever was listening that it wasn’t visible on his face.

“Friends?” he asked with a crooked grin. “I don’t even know you. How do I know you deserve such an honor?”

She grinned back at him and stuck out her hand primly. “Hi, I’m Elain. I love dancing and hosting parties, and I’m pretty good at making things grow.”

He took her hand, swallowing thickly at the sight of her much smaller hand engulfed in his. As soon as their skin made contact his chest tightened, the thread that joined them together coiling tight around his heart.

“Hi, Elain. I’m Lucien. I love books and nature, and I’m pretty good at climbing trees and catching fish with my bare hands.”

Elain’s head cocked to the side, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Really? How? Can you show me?”

Lucien chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Find me a stream on the continent and I’ll teach you. It can be your first lesson in getting into trouble.”

“Deal!”

He let her hand go, his skin still tingling from her touch. They sat in companionable silence until he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Speaking of the continent. I, uh…bought you something.” He felt his face grow hot, and knew his cheeks must be approaching a color close to his hair.

He reached into his pocket and set a small velvet bag into her palm with a rueful smile. Elain’s eyes widened as she took out a glittering ring. It had a thin gold band, set with a small ruby surrounded by elongated diamonds in a shape that could have been flower petals, or perhaps a sunburst.

“I saw it at the market today,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “I thought you might like it.” This was an understatement. In truth he had spent hours looking into different jewelry shops, looking for something that she would like. Judging by how badly his previous gifts had been received, he’d settle for something that she didn’t hate. “If you don’t like it you don’t need to wear it, of course. We can just get plain rings.”

She was smiling at him shyly, and the sight of it was enough to shut him up. “I love it,” she said quietly. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Elain slipped the ring onto her left hand, and for a second Lucien couldn’t breathe. Not real, he reminded himself.

Not real.

Taglist: @areyoudreaminof @separatist-apologist @tuzna-pesma-snova @labellefleur-sauvage @corcracrow @autumndreaming7 @octobers-veryown @velidewrites @vulpes-fennec @sunshinebingo @asnowfern @hallway5 @thelovelymadone @princeash @screaming-opposum

#I LIVE #click the Ao3 link for a rambling excuse about my absence #anyway nothing to see here #just a whole lot of Helion being a menace #elucien #elucien fanfic #elucien fanfiction

52 notes · View notes

teeth-farie · 1 year

Text

Slumber

No pairing

Notes: death, angst, strangulation, major spoilers for lesson 12 of Nightbringer and nightbringer as a whole, 1.2k

☞. . . I think belphie should be an evil little shit again. Aka my thoughts on if nb belphie was like lesson 16 og belphie

When the door creaks open you become bathed in the light from outside, the fluorescence casting across your body like it was from heaven above. The lights in this room are dim, gently flickering from the tree where they hang. You had always wondered how the candles didn’t light the tree ablaze, but you supposed at this point you should just suspect magic.

Belphegor stands in the doorway. He’s looking at you, tail flicking this way and that. Beelzebub has left for the kitchen, rummaging in the cabinets and fridge. He had become so protective over you. The youngest doesn’t know how to feel about that. Belphegor slinks into the room and shuts the door behind him.

“…hi.” He’s standing next to your bed, a certain kind of expression on his face, one that can’t be read. He gazes at the expanse of the bed, the offerings of food laid all around your body. In a way, you remind him of the human world fairy tales, about princesses fallen into a deep slumber and a Prince Charming coming to wake her with a true love's kiss. He wonders how many of his brothers have already tried, and to no avail.

He stays quiet for a few moments, just watching you, your serene expression and slow, deep breaths.

“You’re sleeping deeper than I do.” Belphegor says, cracking an awkward smile. You don’t respond.

He goes quiet again. He tries to see what his brothers like about you, namely Mammon, Leviathan, and Asmodeus. He can’t say he sees the appeal.

“…about what I said in the coliseum,” he begins, sitting on the edge of the bed, right by your legs. A few wrapped snacks tumble down next to him and the weight he puts on the mattress.

“I don’t…Lilith fell in love with a human man. And she was punished for it. And it was the humans fault, if he had never wooed her, she would still be here, and we would still be angels.”

You’re quiet, as you always are.

“If Lilith had never found your race so charming…I don’t know what she saw in them.”

He grabs your hand, your skin warm and full of life despite your slumber.

“…your hand is still warm. I can’t figure out if I like that or despise it.” He laughs, his voice the only one he hears. His tail flicks again, ears swiveling.

“You’re an enigma to me, you really are. I can’t figure out what you’re hiding or what you’ll do next. But I guess you’re pretty predictable right now.”

The bed creaks as Belphegor crawls further on, hovering over you.

“I don’t think I like you.”

His body shadows you, the looming of his curled horns falling just above your head, like a pair of your own.

“I tried to understand why my brothers liked you even if you ended up to be a human, but I just can’t understand them. You’re the very essence of what took our sister away.”

There’s a certain kind of cold look in his eyes.

“I will always hate humans. I will always hate you.”

Belphegor sits down on your stomach, uncaring of the way a harsh gust of breath punches from your lungs and out of your lips. He expected them to be cracked and dry, but he should have expected that Asmo would take care of you.

“So I’ve decided that you can’t be here anymore. You can’t be in any realm, I won’t have peace if you are.”

His hands fall on your throat, his slender, almost dainty fingers framing your jugular. It pisses him off how peaceful you look despite his rage. You’re sleeping so soundly now, unaware of the threats above you. Belphegor wishes you were awake so you’d bear witness to every moment.

“I can’t bear the idea of a human getting chummy with my brothers and I,”

His hands tighten around your throat and he squeezes, he squeezes as tight as he can, wringing the life from you.

“You’re nothing, you’re scum, we don’t need you here,”

Your mouth gapes with stolen breaths, a cryptic kind of croaking emanating from your throat. Belphegor grits his teeth, his nails digging into your skin and he has the urge to tear, to rip apart, to destroy the very soul of you.

Belphegor finds himself annoyed with how your unconscious body still gasps for air, yet is so complacent with what’s happening. The bed begins to tremble behind the force of his hands, practically shaking you where you lay. More wrapped snacks and offers tumble off the bed, falling onto the floor with small thumps.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you-“

Your face is turning blue, your eyelids flickering open, bloodshot sclera all he sees. Drool slides down your chin, your tongue bitten down between your teeth. The veins on your neck pop out with agitation. The final straw for him is when your voice finally creeps through, whether you’re trying to speak or it’s basic instinct. It’s a simple ‘no’ that sends him over the edge.

“I HATE YOU!”

There’s a crack, a crunch, a splutter, and silence. The bedroom is so eerily quiet now. There’s peace, there’s serenity once again. Belphegor stares at the consequence of his actions, unfeeling other than relief. Humans truly were weak, feeble minded creatures. Easy to bend, easy to break.

He gets up and crawls off the bed. Belphegor has the decency to toss the food back onto the bed haphazardly. You’re lifeless now, and it looks no different than when you were alive three minutes ago.

He snorts, straightens his back, and leaves.

Asmodeus comes around the corner of the hall after Belphegor has shut the door, a cheery smile on his face. “Oh, Belphie, there you are! Beel told me you were visiting them.” Asmo is holding a little kit of nail supplies and skin care. “Are you done so soon? The others are usually much longer in there.”

Belphegor shrugs. “Not much to do when they’re asleep.”

Asmodeus pouts. “Still, it’s nice to sit with them and just talk. They say the hearing is what always sticks around, you know?”

The youngest doesn’t reply.

“…they care about you a lot, Belphie. I know it upset you finding out they're human, but they still love you just the same. I can sense these kinds of things!”

Belphegor gives a nonsensical hum. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, me?” Asmo lifts the basket he carries. “I’m going to go take care of them! Just because they’re sleeping doesn’t mean they don’t need to be clean and tidy. I think I’ll paint their nails blue this time…” he trails off mostly to himself, before seemingly snapping out of his own thoughts. “Well! I’ll talk to you later, kay?”

Belphegor walks past his brother with a stiff nod.

Even towards the end of the hall he can hear Asmodeus open the door, greeting you with his usual sweet charm. He can hear the concern in his older brothers voice when he probably touches your hand and feels that it’s cold. He can hear the shrill screech when Asmodeus no doubt finds the bruises and sharp angle of your neck.

“NO! OH PLEASE NO-“

The panic, the dread, the fear. He can hear it all, and oh, how it’s so delightfully tasty when it’s you who’s on the menu for it.

#belphegor #angst #obey me nightbringer #nightbringer spoilers

68 notes · View notes

xsweetcatastrophe · 2 months

Text

You Broke Me First

Part 9

"Pick up, pick up..." Zoe mumbled, while pacing back and forth.

Finally, the screen on her phone changed to her sister's flustered face. "Sorry, I was getting Sophie out of the bath," She said, sounding out of breath. "But the second her feet hit the floor, she takes off like the road runner and how she's running naked around the house getting water everywhere... sometimes I think she's part dog" she said, starting to ramble.

"Ok can this be about me for a second because I'm about to spiral" Zoe interrupted.

"ok, do I have to pour a glass of wine for this?"

"I think you might need the bottle"

"Oh boy, okay let me tell John to wrangle Sophie and put her to bed then"

for the next 25 minutes Zoe told her sister everything; from the interview, to the morning after, to the day at work, to the fake date, to the kiss outside her apartment.

"Are you kidding me?!?! Zoe, you can't catch feelings for him, so get that out of your head right now" Her sister said, pouring herself a glass of wine.

"Jen don't you think I already know that?! I was hoping there would be one article and a couple pictures of us out and this would all blow over in a week. Doesn't look like it" Zoe whined.

"I thought I had an exciting week with Soph pooping on the potty for the first time. You always gotta one-up me don't you?" Jen replied smugly.

"I would gladly change Soph's dirty diapers for the next 5 years than deal with this" Zoe said, collapsing on the couch.

"Listen. Don't get caught up in it. Keep your feet on the ground and every time you speak to him, remind yourself it's just for show. It's a job. You get attached too easily and this is just going to end badly for you in the end" Jen said.

"What did I even call you for? you're telling me things I already know" Zoe said, getting annoyed.

"Ok, lets change subjects then... did you book your flight?"

"flight for what?" Zoe said, confused.

"Ok, Rude. Sophie's birthday party, remember?" Jen said, annoyingly.

"OH - yea, sorry. I have the site that tracks the prices of flights and I check it every day, I'm on top of it" Zoe said.

"Ok, Just checking... Hey, I love you, you know that right? And I worry about you a lot" Jen said, her voice softer.

"I know. I love you too"

Jen and Zoe had a great relationship; where Zoe sometimes felt disconnected from her mom due to bickering back and forth, she ran to Jen. Jen had a maternal side of her that showed in the way she cared for her younger sister. Maybe it was because there was such a large age gap; Jen being 7 years older. Maybe it was because where Jen and her mom gravitated towards each other more, Zoe and her Father were closer. Now that Zoe's dad wasn't here anymore, Jen tried her best to fill in the void Zoe felt. Jen always felt her dad protected Zoe from everything. With him gone, Jen figured she can't step in and protect Zoe from everything, but she can hold her hand and go through it with her, no matter what it was. Sometimes she felt like she was letting her down, especially living in another state.

The girls said their goodbyes and promptly hung up the phone. Zoe sighed, feeling the temperature start to rise in her small apartment. She opened all the windows and brought out the fans, turning them on and shutting off the lights. She made her way to the bathroom and showered, washing the day off of her. She blasted the cold water for as long as she could before she got out; she was about to have a warm night so she wanted to cherish the cold for as long as she physically could.

Zoe stepped out and made her way to the bedroom, not bothering with a towel. As she was standing by her dresser grabbing a pair of underwear, she became aware that her windows were open and there were just a gang of photographers camped outside. She grabbed a pair of underwear and a big T-Shirt and got dressed quickly, hoping no one was outside with one of those super zoom camera lenses peeking into her window.

She decided to sleep in the living room since it was a bit cooler. She passed out on the couch, not before adjusting a fan to point it directly at her.

Zoe woke up to someone banging on her door.

She jumped up, confused and startled. "One minute!" She yelled, making her way to the door. She stopped short, realizing she didn't have pants on.

"One minute!" She yelled again, running to her bedroom and grabbing a pair of sleep shorts. She ran back to the front door, running her fingers through her hair thinking it might help.

She opened the door to a man standing there with a large box and a cliipboard.

"Zoe Parker?" He said, checking his clipboard.

"Yea.. hi?" She said, hesitantly.

"Where do you want it?" He said, motioning to the large box next to him.

Zoe looked at him, confused. "Sorry, there's been a mistake. I didn't order anything."

The man looked at his clipboard again. "Is... C. Murphy here? he placed the order yesterday and requested expedited delivery. I was told this had to be my first stop today" He said, checking his papers.

Zoe's stomach dropped.

"Oh. Yea, he's not here sorry.... what is it?" She said, looking at the box. It was just a brown cardboard box, not the product box so there was no pictures on the outside.

"It's a floor air conditioner."

Author's note: filler chapter, sorry

Tags: @lau219 @wolfieellsworld

#cillian x fem!reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader

15 notes · View notes

separatist-apologist · 2 years

Text

A Mythical Thing

I'm begging for you to take my hand. Wreck my plans.

Summary: A creature of scales and shadows lurks just beyond the woods. Watching.

Waiting.

For a priestess bathed in light and the shimmering bond that tethers them together.

A moment of impulsivity drives them together, wrapping them in fates golden ribbon.

Azriel will do anything to make her his.

Read More: AO3

beta'd by @velidewrites

CW: Dragon monster (more like shifter); past mentions of SA; human men.

Gwyneth Berdara had always been warned not to walk the woods. Not alone and especially not at night. It was a warning she’d heeded her entire life given that terrible, lurking beast had a taste for the flesh of maidens. As a priestess, Gwyn was expected to never take a lover, to never know the touch of a man. It made them all nervous that one day the monster might realize the temple at the edge of the realm was filled with nothing but maidens.

A veritable feast to be had.

But then he was found, paraded back into the city with a massive chain around his throat. Gwyn had watched, hidden beneath her hood. She’d expected a terrifying, scaled beast…not a man in irons walking to his death. They said he’d defiled the last woman, had impregnated her. Gwyn heard the rumors that the woman had liked him, that the two were in love.

She’d seen the agony on that man's face when Lord Nolan taunted him before everyone that they’d find the missing woman. That they’d drag her back and remove the creature living in her body. How he’d remained utterly still, dressed only in a pair of loose fitting pants. His body was so strangely scaled in shimmering orange and gold, his eyes the oddest color of red and brown.

Gwyn liked to think she knew what love looked like. Nolan was devoid of it.

The monster was filled with it.

And that night, Gwyn decided to take the first walk she’d ever had outside the walls of the temple. Moonlight peeked through the snaking tree branches overhead, devoid of their usual greenery as winter approached. Gwyn went too far that first night, drunk on her own success. The monster loved the woman they’d sent him and, to hear it told, had released the rest.

Perhaps the only monsters were just the trees and this shifting, slipping shadows. It had been those grappling, creaking hands that tore at her cloak. The shredding material sent her running back for the walls, heart pounding desperately in her ears when she slammed the gate loudly behind her.

Tendrils of night seemed to drape themselves around her, curling gently against her moon pale skin. She turned her head, a friendly breeze ruffling the copper brown of her hair until it was pushed into her eyes. There was nothing out there but the men from the city, hunting down a terrified, pregnant woman. Gwyn wondered what it was like, to be so sure of something you’d turn your back on your entire way of life just to keep it.

And with a breathy sigh, she walked back to the arching silver doors of the temple. No one was awake save for her. Everyone else was a creature of the light the way their Mother Goddess demanded. Gwyn had tried. For fifteen years, she’d tried so desperately to be what was expected of her. Gwyn suspected she was the outcast because of the circumstances that had seen her dumped on the doorstep of the temple.

Living alone with just her sister had painted targets on their backs. Catrin had fought back but Gwyn…Gwyn had allowed those men to touch her, to do whatever they wanted while she squeezed her eyes shut and prayed it would all be over soon. That she would get through it. Too late and too often, Gwyn wondered if she’d fought back if those men would have let her join her sister.

Catrin was buried at the base of the mountains in the village she’d grown up in. She’d been given a proper burial by a populace more willing to mourn a dead, martyred woman than the very real living one who was now alone. The men were never punished but Gwyn was.

She’d been little more than a child, and yet she’d heard the way the older women spoke about her and Catrin. Women. Seductresses. Temptress.

She’d been thirteen.

Gwyn sighed, taking the steps up the winding tower to her bedroom. If the other priestesses had experienced anything similar, they’d never said. Everyone knew about her. She was safe, if that monster ever invaded but Gwyn liked to think that the creature could tell the difference between willingly handing something over and having it stolen from you. Even before she’d learned he was only a man, Gwyn had thought he might kill her, too.

That she could join Catrin and find some measure of peace.

Belonging.

Gwyn went out the second night and then the third. She considered, tramping against the dead, rotting leaves that were damp from the rain they’d gotten that morning. The earthen smell of autumn warred with approaching winter while that teasing wind greeted her with another playful ruffle of her hair. Gwyn’s steps were bouncy as she basked in the waning moonlight. There was no one out here to admonish, to call her Gwyneth in that disapproving tone.

Gwyneth, don’t sing while you do your chores

Gwyneth, why are you smiling during service?

Gwyneth, where are the scrolls I asked you for—

She grinned now, face tilted towards the sky. Opening her mouth, Gwyn sang the same song from that morning without worrying someone might overhear. Only the trees would witness her. She felt free, untethered and unbound.

Happy, without that usual guilt that she shouldn’t, that she was betraying Catrin somehow, by finding joy when her sister could not. Out here, it was easy to hear Catrins voice urging her to indulge a little. Catrin had always been like that. Gwyn had been studious—serious, given how absent their mother was—and Catrin had been fun. In her darker moments, she often thought it was a tragedy she’d survived and Catrin had not.

Catrin wouldn’t have stayed in the temple. She would have done something. She would have figured out how to move on, to keep laughing, smiling—living. Gwyn’s voice softened, her emotion threatening to overwhelm her. The song changed to a familiar tune sung often in the villages.

Catrin’s favorite.

Gwyn’s steps took on a life of their own, pulling her towards a denser patch of trees where even shadows couldn’t penetrate. She went, if only to prove to herself that she could. That some small, tiny part of her wasn’t scared. There was nothing, she told herself. Only the dark, only night.

A soft snuffling stopped her the second she was enveloped. The leaves beneath her feet shifted as though something heavy dragged over them. All at once her singing died, her body utterly rooted into place.

“Hello?” she whispered. Silence was the only sound save for the soft, panting breath. She wasn’t alone anymore. Gwyn didn’t move, afraid if she turned and ran the thing would give chase.

Wide eyes cut through the dark, hazel and as bright as stars. She had a sense of this beast now, of the creature’s unfolding wings that made him sing twice as big as the forest itself. He raised himself upwards, tail sliding closer towards her. Gwyn’s heart was in her throat.

She’d been warned, hadn’t she?

Gwyn opened her mouth to scream, turning to run. The monster grabbed her, pulling her close against his warm, dark scales. His wings extended even further, betraying the sheer size of him as a thing so big it didn’t seem possible he’d ever been able to hide here. As he took to the air, Gwyn noticed his scales seemed to shift the most peculiar shade of wintry blue. She reached out one trembling, terrified hand and touched.

He bellowed in response, a ring of fire igniting the world beneath them. She exhaled a breath.

And if she drew another, she didn’t know.

Darkness overtook her, dragging her into the blackened abyss.

AZRIEL:

He hadn’t believed Lucien when he showed up with the female claiming her as his mate. Gold ribboning her neck, belly filled with child and still Azriel had assumed him to be a liar. Tired of waiting for a female of their own kind to show up, he’d merely bent the magic to his will and taken a human instead. And though Azriel was certainly curious, he hadn’t truly thought he had a mate, either. Like so many other males that had agreed to fight with Cassian, he’d decided to see the woman.

Perhaps cajole one into joining him as a pseudo-mate. It wouldn’t be the same and yet better than centuries of loneliness. If nothing else, he’d told himself he’d get to punish the mortal males that were responsible for the slaughter of his people. That had been reason enough to don his armor and hide among the trees, waiting for the prince to offer a command.

It had been her singing that had drawn him away from the ranks. He’d crept closer, swearing he was only curious as to the sort of female that would wander the woods alone at night. He didn’t think the humans were that brave, not when they were so afraid of Lucien, of all people.

Standing in a patch of moonlight, Azriel had felt that snapping oof, had inhaled her bright scent and had just known.

Mate.

The smiling, fragile little thing belonged to him and was, without even meaning to, wandering towards an army of males who had likely never seen anything half as beautiful as her. He’d panicked, snatching her up and bellowing a warning when Cassian came chasing after him. He still felt that wildness, that urge to claw out the throat of any male that came too close to the now sleeping human female in his bed.

Azriel didn’t know what to do with her or even how to explain why he’d just kidnapped her. It was all wrong, he mused, but perhaps not unsalvageable. From what Elain had said, humans didn’t know they could be mates—had no concept for it. Perhaps, though, if he explained, she would understand why he’d taken her.

If he offered her a little token, something pretty and small, she might not be so afraid when she woke up. He was torn between leaving her in his home, an isolated cabin at the far end of the mountains. No one but his own kind could get to her up here and, at least for the moment, they were occupied with their war with the humans.

Azriel took one last look at his mate—beautiful, with her long, coppery brown hair and her freckled, pale skin. She was draped in soft blue and he wondered what his own shade might look like imprinted over her skin. If she’d be ribboned like Lucien’s mate was or if it would show up in some other way. Azriel swallowed.

There would be time for it.

He didn’t want her to fear him. More than anything, Azriel wanted to see her smile at him, to sing for him. He wasn’t stupid. He knew she’d cry if she woke and he was pacing like a monster, demanding she accept him as her mate without doing any of the work that was required to make a mate feel safe, loved, or cherished.

Heart lighter than it had been in centuries, Azriel stepped into shin deep snow and took to the skies. He wished he knew what she liked. As he made his way to his own city, cut against the tallest mountain, Azriel decided to just get everything he could think of. Shining baubles and clothes and books and jewels were shoved indiscriminately into a bag. His people loved these things—surely humans must, too?

Azriel returned to find her still tucked in the bed—his bed—and he wondered when the last time she’d had any sleep was. He sat on the edge of the mattress, one scarred hand flat on the thick, black blanket. It had been a well-guarded dream, imagining a mate. A female who might curl beneath his sheets.

Who might belong to him.

His chest tightened, not with pleasure but with fear. He’d kidnapped his mate. Panic flooded through him all over again. She was going to wake up and hate him and rightly so. She’d demand he take her back and he’d be forced to relinquish her, doomed to watch her age and die. Perhaps most horrible, at least to Azriel’s mind, was the fear she’d take a different mate, would find happiness with that male.

Some not insignificant part of him wondered if he didn’t deserve that. After all, Azriel had done horrible things in his life. Things he wasn’t ashamed of, would never feel sorry for. The humans had come when he’d been a boy. They’d killed his mother slowly, torturing her in a tower while she pleaded and begged for them to spare him.

They’d kept him locked up for five miserable years. Five years without another living soul to speak with, subjected to their every cruel and mercurial whim. They poked and prodded, sliced and tore. And once, they’d doused him in flame just to see what might happen, scarring his hands before he’d been able to put it out. The humans didn’t understand that boys eventually became men. His kind was no different. Azriel had bade his time until his form was so massive he could tear that tower apart stone by stone, reducing it to rubble.

And then he’d had his revenge, stalking into the village and destroying every human without mercy. It was retribution for more than just his suffering but his mother, who had been soft and kind. Who had died trying to keep her only son safe. What would his mate think if she knew how soaked in blood he was?

What would she think of him if she knew he’d gone, first and foremost, to taste their blood again?

She shifted, fingers curling around a fluffy pillow. Deciding he would do whatever she demanded, that he would atone however she asked, he waited breathlessly. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen, her eyes the color of sparkling, sun warmed water. Rosy lips parted as she looked around the bedroom, taking in her new surroundings.

Taking in him.

Azriel had to fight not to shift, to spread his wings and show her how large he was. He had the sense that would only scare her, though had she been one of his own, she would have understood that males spread their wings to show their females what good protectors they were…and, perhaps, to preen, if only a little. Azriel’s wingspan was large. Some small, vain part of him wanted to see her flush with pleasure when she realized that extended to all parts of him.

She exhaled a sweet scented breath. She reminded him of fresh dawn breaking over the mountains and she smelled like home before the humans came. Like berry soaked pine needles and fresh fallen snow. Azriel’s fingers twitched and he had to fight to keep himself from burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“You…” she swallowed hard, sitting up very, very slowly. Drawing her knees to her chest, he had the sense she was trying to protect the softness of her body from him. “You are also a man.”

“Yes,” he agreed, noting how she flinched when she heard him speak. The scent of her fear rolled off her in waves. Standing quickly, Azriel went for the bag of things. “I got you a gift.”

He heard her exhale sharply.

“A gift?”

He set the bag gently on the bed, careful not to touch her. Thinking it might be better if he stayed off it entirely, he instead dragged a chair at the far end of his bedroom, the one he kept by the window, and sat down once he was as close as he dared to get.

She waited a moment before scooting towards it, grabbing the edge and dragging it towards her. With curious fingers, his mate pulled open the flap and just dumped everything onto the bed. He caught her delight, smothered quickly.

“This is…”

“I didn’t know what you liked,” he admitted, watching her carefully. She picked through the baubles and jewels and clothes until she came to the book. Azriel’s whole body ignited with pleasure watching her draw it up, examining the spine. She exhaled softly.

“We’re not allowed to read for pleasure,” she whispered.

“Why?” he asked quickly, sitting so close to the edge of his chair he was in danger of falling out. She looked over at him, her long hair spilling over her delicate shoulders. Biting her bottom lip, Azriel guessed she was wondering if she should tell him what she thought. If he was safe or if this was all a ruse. He slumped, curling in on himself, hoping it made him seem smaller by comparison. One day she’d learned to appreciate his size…but perhaps today she needed to see him as someone that would not hurt her.

“Our lives are dedicated to the Great Mother,” she finally said, her eyes glazing for a moment. A priestess? He hadn’t realized, though the shimmering robes made sense to him now. His kind hadn’t seen one in centuries…they had been the first to go, undefended and isolated as they were.

Azriel couldn’t help but wonder if the goddess didn’t have a sense of humor, pairing him, a creature soaked in darkness, with a female dedicated to worshiping the light. Perhaps this female was meant to be his salvation.

Did that make him her ruination?

“What is your name?” he asked her, hoping very much he was wrong.

“Gwyneth,” she whispered. “Or…Gwyn, I think. Just Gwyn. That was what my sister called me.”

Sadness stole over her features and her hands, once so tight around the book he’d given, now dropped it into her lap.

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked him, her fear pungent again.

“No,” he said hastily. Placing a hand to his black tuniced chest, he added, “My name is Azriel.”

“Azriel,” she repeated.

He shivered in response.

“Why…” she gulped down the rest of her words. “How long do you plan to keep me?”

He was terrified, heart hammering in his throat, as he asked, “How long would you stay?”

“That depends,” she said, pushing aside the items he’d brought her carefully.

“On?”

“Why you took me in the first place and what you intend to do with me.”

She was shaking so hard he could hear her teeth rattling.

Azriel swallowed. His voice a rasping whisper, he said, “You’re my mate.”

Whatever she’d imagined, it clearly hadn’t been that. He took advantage of her stunned silence to add, “I just…I just want to spend time with you. I won’t hurt you. I…” Gods, it was all coming out wrong. “You can trust me.”

“Trust takes time,” she said, looking at her fingers. “If I did stay…say…for a week. Where would you sleep?”

“Anywhere,” he replied, certain she was not inviting him into her bed. “Outside, even, if that would make you feel safe.”

He could guard the door for threats, which might also make him feel safe. Gwyn’s eyes slid towards the window, curtains pulled open to reveal the snow capped mountains lined with that swaying pine forest.

“It’s too cold to sleep outside. Maybe just…not in here?”

He nodded, trying to swallow his eager relief. “Okay.”

“And…” she was still fidgeting. “And you’re not allowed to touch me unless you ask first. Ever.”

Azriel went so still. He could still scent that fear, sharper than before. Who had touched his mate without asking?

“I swear,” he whispered, vowing one day, when she felt safe, he would cajole the names from her. He would offer her the same revenge he’d given his mother and if she wanted, he would put the knife in her hand. He didn’t think she wanted to know what manner of creature he was, how too often he flew alongside death itself as both friend and companion.

“One month,” she added. “And I can go home any time.”

“You’re not a prisoner,” he agreed. “I will take you anywhere you like, even if you want to leave.”

“Will you show me this place? Let me see?”

Azriel stood slowly, watching as she clambered out of bed and smoothed out her dress.

“I will do anything you ask.”

He would do anything to keep his mate.

GWYN:

Gwyn half thought that perhaps she had hallucinated the fire breathing dragon that had snatched her in the night. Azriel didn’t seem capable of kidnapping someone. Had it not been for the wintry blue scales that gilded over his body, she might have thought him just a regular man. A very polite man, but a man nonetheless. She was so curious about his scales, how they edged over his bare, muscular arms before vanishing behind his clothes. The appeared again up his neck and over the side of his face before disappearing once again in his inky black hair.

She was most fascinated by the burns on his hands, scarred and, in places, scaled like the rest of him. They seemed to shine in the light so beautifully it made her chest ache. That was the only reason she’d agreed to stay with him to begin with. Azriel was stunning, so handsome she could hardly believe he was real at all. He seemed to be cut from the same cold stone lurking in the distance, as if the goddess herself had taken the time to lovingly place each feature. Gwyn hadn’t seen a man so close in fifteen years and never one with his high cheekbones, his full, curved lips, or his wide, hazel eyes, his skin the loveliest shade of warm brown she’d ever seen. He was taller than her by a good head and shoulders, his body muscular and broad. All muscle, if the bare arms crossed against his chest was any indication. A warrior, she thought, studying him when he wasn’t watching.

And quiet. His voice was dark and smoky, the sort of thing she swore lingered in the air like shadow. When she spoke Azriel seemed to vibrate, hanging off her every word, but he offered very little outside of his reassurances he did not mean to hurt her and his unending questions about her, her life.

Mate.

Gwyn had questions of her own. She waited until they were on the bottom level of his home, seated at a square dining table. He’d made a simple dinner and was, as always, watching her with his unguarded fascination. She thought of the golden man that had likely been executed by General Nolan and his anguish when Nolan had promised to find the pregnant, hiding woman. Had they been mates, too?

“Why are your scales blue?” she asked instead, too afraid to ask what she really wanted to know. Azriel’s thick brows shot skyward, his mouth shaping into an oh. He glanced down at his hands before curling them into fists and hiding them beneath the table.

“My kind–”

“Your kind?”

“Mountain dwellers,” he amended patiently in that rich, deep voice. She shivered without meaning to. “We are typically blue or red…very occasionally purple.”

“I wonder what color I would be,” she wondered out loud. Hazel eyes flashed with delight.

“Blue,” he declared, eyes sliding down her neck. He looked no further before his gaze returned to her face and Gwyn could admit she appreciated the way he didn’t seem to ogle her. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she decided to be brave.

“And what are mates?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I am yours, and you are mine.”

It was oddly sweet. “Like marriage?”

He wrinkled his nose.

“Not like marriage?” she pressed. He opened his mouth and closed it again, clearly struggling.

“It is…it is a connection between souls. Blessed by the Mother Goddess herself,” he added hastily, clearly trying to make this phenomenon make sense to her. “I can feel it here.”

His broad, golden brown hand pressed against his chest. She didn’t mention she didn’t feel it, though Gwyn had to admit she did feel something. Drawn to him, perhaps. It had been enough to make her agree to stay when he’d so readily agreed to her terms. There was still danger in the decision given that night was falling rapidly and he might go back on his promise.

“What if you don’t want it?”

He went so, so still in that unnatural way of his. “You want to reject it?” he rasped.

“No,” she said quickly, though that wasn’t entirely true either. Gwyn was merely curious. “I just…I want to know about it, I guess. It’s different for us.”

“Yes,” he said with a quick roll of his eyes. “I have heard about how human males court their females.”

She smothered a smile. “Not a fan, I take it?”

“They do not appreciate what they have,” came his surprising response. “They are cruel to their females, so certain they could just have another should the mood strike them.”

Azriel didn’t know the half of it. Her attackers had remained with their wives, who had protected them. Those women had led the charge to have Gwyn removed, unable to stand the sight of her—of the reminder that their husbands were bad people. The girls were blamed, the men protected, coddled and still respected.

“And your kind don’t?”

She didn’t believe there was any world in which men cared about women let alone venerated them. Azriel’s eyes darkened for a moment, as if he knew exactly why she’d asked that question. Like he would have committed violence on her behalf. It ought to have scared her.

“There are not enough females anymore,” he began carefully. “Centuries ago, when the humans decided they no longer wished to live among them, they slaughtered them first. Children, as well. What remains are the warriors who beat them back. Even if we had an abundance, though…mates are rare. Cherished,” he added too pointedly, as if he needed her to understand what she meant to him. Gwyn swallowed.

“I would rather let you remove my wings than harm you.”

Pretty words, she thought with too much cynicism. She’d wait to see how the night played out before she dared to trust him.

“There was a man like you–”

“Lucien,” he said quickly. “He is a different sort of dragon.”

That, she supposed, explained why Lucien had been gold and Azriel blue.

“And the woman? Is she…?”

“His mate?” Azriel asked softly. “Yes. He is protecting her and their child as any good mate should. While the humans busy themselves with killing him, Elain will have time to escape.”

“Oh,” she whispered. It was all so sweet, in a strange way. She couldn’t imagine self-sacrificing in the hope that your wife and child would escape and yet Gwyn so badly wanted to believe in a world where that was possible. A place built differently. She would never forgive him if it was all a lie.

She hadn’t had hope in fifteen years. Gwyn hadn’t dared, not after everything. Not after Catrin. Staring down Azriel who was, in turn, watching her eat, Gwyn could feel it blooming in her chest. That warm want, that desire to find good in the world. She’d been smothering all of it in ash all these years, had buried it right alongside Catrin.

“Do you like being a priestess?” he asked, unaware of what was happening with her internally. Curiosity still danced over his features and when Gwyn set her wooden spoon inside the carved bowl, finished with the stew, Azriel was on his feet so quickly to give her more.

“I’m not…you don’t have to serve me,” she mumbled, embarrassment flushing over her. Azriel dropped back into his chair, supremely pleased with himself.

“Do you like being a priestess?” he asked again, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“No,” she admitted. “Not really. I…”

He leaned forward on his elbows, nearly spilling his own half-eaten food. No one had ever looked at her with such interest before. Gwyn’s eyes dropped to her bowl.

“I like parts of it. I just don’t know that I belong, I guess.”

“Why?”

She didn’t know him. Why was she confiding these things? Gwyn forced herself to smile. “I’m still figuring myself out, I suppose.”

Some of his interest shifted, his expression becoming guarded again. They lapsed into silence while she ate though she could practically hear the grinding gears of his mind. He stood when she finished but this time, aware that he intended to feed her until she puked, stopped him.

“No more,” she said. He eyed her warily.

“Are you sure?”

“I swear,” she agreed. “I—” she was suddenly too scared to say she wanted to go back up the stairs, to close the door and pace while she gathered herself. What if he decided he didn’t care what she wanted? If he meant to just…consummate this faux marriage regardless.

“Sleep?” he murmured, guessing her thoughts. “Would you like water for the bath?”

“No!” she replied hastily, wrapping her arms around her chest as she backed for the archway leading to the living room.

“In the morning?” he pressed, so earnestly it made her stomach churn softly.

“Maybe,” she whispered. “I uh…”

“Sleep,” he said again, firmer this time. She took a step, unable to turn her back to him but Azriel remained between the table and the kitchen, watching her with such soft eyes her heart was in danger of splattering at her feet. Gwyn took another, and then another but Azriel didn’t move at all.

And when she darted up the steps, she swore she heard him sigh softly. With disappointment. What was it like to end up with her as a mate? She imagined he’d been hoping for this his entire life, had dreamt of it the way she’d once dreamt of her future husband. And Azriel had ended up with her.

Broken.

Gwyn heard the door beneath her open once she was locked up in Azriels room. She walked to the window and watched him stand in the snow, hands on his hips as he stared out into the distance. The air around him rippled and then that massive, scaled monster was just in front of the door. He paced in a circle three times, stamping the snow beneath his black clawed feet, before plopping to the ground with a huff.

Gwyn unlatched the window, pushing it open to look down at him. Azriel turned his massive head, those hazel eyes peering up with curiosity.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked. He huffed a steaming breath, big enough she could reach down and touch his scaled head. Fair was fair, she thought, as she asked, “Can I touch you?”

His head bobbed up and down. Gwyn leaned from the perch on the ledge and ran her hand over him. He was hot and his scales soft. She’d thought they might be sharp like knives but instead found them a flexible plating that, when she ran a finger over the edges, didn’t slice open her skin.

He snorted softly, angling his head so he could look, taking a deep inhale of the air around him. Gwyn didn’t know why, but she thought she liked him better this way. At least she knew what he was capable of. With his spiked tail and his massive teeth there was no denying the monster. As the man, though…as the man, Gwyn had to wonder what lurked beneath the veneer of civility.

“I think I am too in love with the dark to ever be a good priestess,” she whispered, telling the beast what she could not say to the man. He blinked, eyes sliding from the pretty hazel into azure for only a moment.

And then he was back, nuzzling her hand with his massive snout.

I know what you mean, he seemed to say.

And Gwyn believed he did.

AZRIEL:

Azriel had never slept better in his life. His mate had touched him. Hesitantly, sure, and still bathed in that stench of fear and yet she’d done it all the same. He’d woken like king of the mountain, splaying out his wings for the gods so they, at least, could appreciate what he was guarding just inside. Perhaps she’d touch him again, fingers caressing his scales as she mapped him out. Azriel would let her, would stay in his winged form if that pleased her.

He wanted very badly for his form to please her, both as dragon and male. He didn’t dare offer to show her the other, not until she asked to see it. He came inside and waited in the living room, one leg bouncing eagerly when he heard her moving overhead. He wanted her to come down before he offered her bathwater again.

The door creaked open. “Azriel?” she whispered into the early morning glow. “Are you awake?”

“Yes,” he replied, standing at the bottom of the steps. Invite me up. Let me see you.

“I um…” he could hear her voice tremble. What was wrong? He gripped the railing, waiting for her to ask him to take her home.

“I need your help.”

“Oh,” he murmured, taking the steps with easy, soft steps so he wouldn’t seem too eager. Gwyn was in the doorway in her same dress, arms wrapped around her torso. Had she not wanted any of the clothes he’d gotten? Azriel opened his mouth to ask but Gwyn spun quickly, gathering her long, thick mass of hair and holding it over her shoulders.

Laces.

“I can’t…” she gulped down a breath, her whole body trembling visibly. “Can you…?”

He had to bury his fury that someone had seen his perfect, sweet mate and had done something so irrevocably awful that the thought of his touch made her pant with fear.

“Yes,” he agreed, reaching for the blue knots with extreme care. Each new tugged revealed unblemished, freckled skin and Azriel did not dare touch it—not even with his knuckles. He wanted to. All he wanted was to push the dress from her shoulders and see her. She had only asked him to undo the laces and he had sworn not to touch unless she asked. Azriel was a male of his word.

He would not harm his mate.

She turned when she felt that last tug, holding the front against her chest.

“Would you like water for a bath?” he asked her. “I have to turn it on…you can wait in the hall, if you like?”

She nodded quickly, ducking benath his arm as he stepped into the room. His chest expanded when he realized she had put away all the things he’d given her. Clothes were folded in the chest beside his own, the trinkets lining the top of the dresser. The book was at the very end of the bed and Azriel nearly burst with pleasure knowing not only had she slept in his bed, but she enjoyed something he’d given her.

Stepping into the bathing chamber, Azriel pulled down a nice towel and a little candle, lighting it with a snap of his fingers. He set it beside the sink before turning the rusting nob. Cold water poured, good enough for him but hardly conducive for his soft mate. He waited, sitting against the lip of the tub, until it was filled before dipping his hand inside and warming that, too.

“It’s ready,” he told her, stepping back into the hall so she knew he did not mean to follow her. Gwyn watched, backing away like before as though she did not trust him enough to present her back. Azriel swallowed that outrage, too, tallying it in his mind against the human males ledger he would one day see die.

She closed the door behind her and Azriel all but ran from his house, shifting the second his feet hit the snow. If she liked books, he’d bring her more. He’d build her an entire library if that was what it would take for her to look up at him with trust instead of fear.

Azriel would have done anything. Digging out books was hardly anything at all. A small thing, a little token he could offer as proof he was sincere. That she meant more to him than anything he’d ever had. Gwyn was a gift, special.

Azriel gathered a few groceries in town, wondering if Gwyn liked things that were sweet. He couldn’t bake but thought it couldn’t be that hard to figure out. Perhaps, he reasoned, it was something they could do together. She could teach him to make a pie…and he could teach her how to disembowel a human male. That thought excited Azriel more than the baking, though he shoved it down.

Maybe he’d wait on that one.

Azriel arrived back at the cottage, certain Gwyn must be finished bathing. He had clothes that had buttons in the front so she couldn’t have to ask him to unlace her again. Not unless she wanted to, at any rate. He was pulling out a pretty green one, thinking it would look nice against the red of her hair, when the door flung open.

Her face was blotchy and tear stained. She had a dress over her frame, held by one hand, the ends of her curling strands dripping against the fabric and the floor. Azriel dropped it all to the ground, spinning in a circle to see what had caused this onslaught of fear.

“Where did you go?” she asked, her voice squeaky. He froze.

“I…” This was his fault? Hastily, he picked the bag back up, showing her the dress. “It has buttons,” he tried to explain. She stared for a moment, another tear sliding down her cheek. His legs shook at the sight.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What if…you left and I…”

“You’re safe here,” she said, stepping forward to close the door behind her. “No one can get to you without wings and no other male would dare.”

His reputation ensured that, if nothing else. Gwyn nodded, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her dress. She took the green down and darted back up the steps, leaving him feeling stupid and confused. He hadn’t thought she’d notice and if she had, he’d just assumed she’d be grateful knowing he wasn’t lurking around trying to see something she shouldn’t.

He blew out a breath. Maybe he would have better luck, he reasoned, if he sent her back and tried courting her the way a human male would. Azriel meant to offer when she returned, so devastatingly pretty in the green that Azriel could have died. She didn’t hesitate, launching herself against him, arms wrapped around his middle.

He did, though. She squeezed while his arms hung uselessly in the air, brain struggling to keep up. Had anyone ever dared to touch him like this? It took a moment for him to decide to touch her back, one hand spanning the middle of her back, the other tangled softly in her silky, wet hair.

“Next time, will you tell me when you go?”

“You can come with me,” he promised hoarsely. She was touching him again. Fear didn’t ripple off her, clogging his senses. Only that sweet softness greeted his nose. He lowered his head, resting his chin against her scalp so he could breathe it deeper.

“I would like that. I want to see more of this world,” she whispered, cheek to his chest. He heard her swallow and then she was stepping out of the embrace, her cheeks the prettiest shade of pink he’d ever seen.

“My mate is scared,” he murmured, studying her carefully. She froze, eyes wide even as he stepped from the hall to the living room. He could feel her just behind, watching as he ducked around the couch for the fireplace and the knife sitting against the carved mantle.

He brought it to her, pressing the silver hilt into her hand.

“Az, I…”

Az. He sucked in a breath at the nickname. “One day you will trust me,” he murmured. “And you will tell me what they did to you.”

She blinked those big, teal eyes up at him, lips parted ever so slightly. Daring to touch, Azriel reached for her soft chin, holding it between his thumb and his finger.

“I will lay them at your feet for daring to harm you. And if you like, I will teach you to become the sort of creature that haunt their very nightmares.”

She leaned ever so slightly into the touch. “I would like that a lot.”

He dropped his hand before he gave in to instinct and touched her lips. Azriel smiled at her. He knew what they said about him. He was cold—cruel. Unforgiving. All of it was true.

But not to her.

Never her.

#TRUST ME #gwynriel #gwyn x azriel #my summaries are getting stupider by the fic #at this point im like two fics away from just writing #anyway #dragon!az #YEARNING #azriel all excited to teach his mate to kill a man #is actually very personal to me #and if you think they wont be baking together #I GOT NEWS FOR YOU #not me simping for azriel on main #im sorry

167 notes · View notes

seancekitsch · 2 years

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could please write a Hughie Campbell x reader fic where Hughie comforts the reader after she finds out homelander is her father?

i hope you dont mind i changed it up a little bit so reader is homelanders little sister bc of course voughts got a sperm bank. i also did not know until after i wrote all of this that homelander is canonically 41 so i am sorry

What if I’m just like them? What if there’s some gene that will make me like them? What if I hurt everyone I love? What if I have to be put down one day like they need to be? What if—

Fuck. You need to get out of here. You’re going to get all of them killed. You couldn’t… you couldn’t live if something happened to your friends. If something happened to Hughie. Sweet Hughie, who convinced you to stand up against Vought, who was your confidant and rock through all of this, who helped you find information on your lineage.

It wasn’t his fault you got this news. No, he just helped you gather the tools. And now that you know you’re the daughter of Solider Boy and your mother, a woman Vought paid a measly ten thousand to turkey baste, and to top it off Homelander’s younger sister by thirteen years, they’ll know soon enough. It’ll be bad enough when Butcher finds out.

The door slamming open against the wall shocks you out of your spiral as it bathes you in bright fluorescent light. You wince as try to shield your eyes.

Hughie comes stumbling in, his grey Vans scuffing along the recently buffed floors and his hands slightly shaking as he tries to steady the door. He shuts it gently behind him, casting the room back in its dim lighting.

“I figured you… shouldn’t be alone,” he offers, coming to pull up the chair next to yours. He’s probably right.

You turn to look at him, slowly shaking your head like you can’t even begin to voice what’s on your mind. Where do you even start with something like this?

He pulls you into a hug, awkward over the arms of the chairs separating you, but so needed. You choke out sobs, ones you didn’t know you were holding in, and he just holds you. His arms are warm and comforting and just everything you need. Hughie holds you tightly, as if you’ll sift through his grip like sand in the tide. He sighs into your shoulder like he needs this, too. Maybe he does.

“I always wanted to know who my dad was,” you sniff away another round of tears, “I guess maybe I should have stopped looking. Some fucking family.”

“You had every right to want to know,” he counters, “It doesn’t change anyth-“

“This changes everything. What if I’m just like dear old dad? Like my brother? Fuck! This is so fucked.”

Your eyes are bleary with tears, barely able to make out Hughie’s face through any of this.

“I’m a fucking target if they ever find out. They’ll never stop coming for me. I’m putting you all in danger, I just…”

You trail off, not sure how to finish that thought or where to go from here.

“Hey!” Hughie’s tone is a little harsher than he intends, but he gets down on his knees on the ground between your legs to hug you even closer, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he holds you.

“Hey listen, you’re nothing like that fucking sperm donor, you’re nothing like that shit stain you share half your DNA with. They’re nothing like you. You’ll never be like them. You’re good, and funny, and kind, and sweet, and you care so so so fucking much about others. You want to do the right thing. You’ve almost died for us. You saved my life, that counts, right?”

You nod a little against him, your sobs quieting again.

“I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe, and to make sure you’re never this upset again,” he promises, and you know he means it.

You don’t say anything, you don’t have to. You just hug him back harder.

“We’ll figure this out, you and me, okay?”

“You and me,” you echo.

He holds you until your crying subsides, and then he offers to get you sushi while he walks you back home to your apartment.

#hughie campbell imagine #hughie campbell x reader

115 notes · View notes

im-clapped-af · 1 year

Text

In the shadow of the past Chapter 7

7. The Restricted Section

3rd September 1890

Sebastian lay in the bath, the water turned grey from the soot. Normally Ominis would have joined him. One of them would sit in the bath while the other sat on the floor. They would sit and talk until the water turned cold. But, he didn’t ask him to join, his mind was too caught up of what had happened that day.

He needed to find a cure for Anne. The summer holidays had prevented him from researching more. All he could do was make her as comfortable as she could be. It had pained him to watch her succumb to the torture that was the curse day after day. Every burst of pain she experienced it seemed to become worse, sometimes immobilising. When she was stuck in bed for 4 days straight, unable to walk, he never once left her side. His hand was sore from when she squeezed it, struggling with the pain. He didn’t complain, he never would. If he could, he would experience the cruciatus curse every day if it meant giving her some relief.

He cursed all goblins for what they had done to her. What they had done to him. They had taken away her light, her face was always laced with pain, no matter how hard he tried to make her laugh. Her freckles had disappeared as her skin faded grey, her hair thinned, becoming lifeless on her head, just like her body had. The days when his uncle Solomon was away, buying ingredients for the house, Sebastian would sit on their beds he had pushed together, cradling her, as they both cried. His sister was his life, his other half. After their parents had died over some stupid experiment, they lost everything. Their house, all their belongings. In less than 24 hours, they lost everything, and them along with their few leftover possessions were on the way to Scotland to live with an uncle they had met only twice before. They were all they had left, a reminder of their parents and the memories they held.

He splashed his face with water again and dragged his hands down his face tiredly. He leant his head back against the tub, closing his eyes. He thought of the past few days, the way Ominis lit up when he heard his name being called him Sebastian at King’s Cross station. The way they cheered when the mysterious girl was anointed to Slytherin. She was beautiful, and intriguing. Very few girls had caught his eye at Hogwarts, but she was different. It wasn’t just down to the fact that her beauty outshone everyone in the room, but there was a mystery to her. The way she spoke, clearly trying to stick to the muggle forms of etiquette, fractured when introduced to more of the magical world. She seemed shocked at how powerful she really was. Her eyes lit up when ever she cast a spell. Her brown eyes glowed as the light hit them. Her cheeks rosy as she blushed when praised. He remembered how her skin felt as his finger brushed her cheek, how his heart fluttered slightly as she pressed against him in the fireplace.

He was aware of where his hand rested on his thigh under the water. An urge burning low in his stomach. He hands trailed us his thigh slowly, questioning whether this was appropriate but quickly his mind flickered back to how she felt pressed against him. His hand rose higher.

And higher.

A splash of water disturbed him from his fantasy. Peeves shot out of the water, laughing maniacally. Sebastian pulled his knees to his chest, covering the lower half of his body.

“Naughty, naughty Sebastian!”

Sebastian glared at him. Fucking hell Peeves! I’ll get him for that. “Shut up! Everyone will hear you!”

Peeves spun in the air, splashing water at Sebastian. “That’s the plan.” He roared with laughter, “Naughty Sebastian trying to touch himself, oh everyone will have a great laugh!”

Shit.

He stood up, quickly wrapping a towel around himself and tried to catch up with the poltergeist who was already floating away from the boys bathroom.

Meanwhile, Audrey soaked in the tub, trying to relax after what had happened. Her mind was a labyrinth, each time she took a turn, a new memory of what had happened the past few days blocked her. The troll, Fig, the dragon, Osric, and her father raced through her mind. Her father, how she missed him. The way he smiled at her when she entered the room, their arms entwined as they walked through the gardens, soaking under the warm sun. She needed to write him a letter, he was most likely wondering how she was adjusting to her new school and curriculum.

She dunked her head under the water. The longer she stayed under, the more her mind eased, the sound of water dancing in her ears silencing the voice in her head. Her eyes opened, the water soapy water stinging them. She looked up at the ceiling, the marble warped as the water enveloped her body.

Unbeknownst to her, a shadow loomed in the bathroom. It seeped under the door, slithering its way over to the bathtub. The room darkened slightly, as it grew in shape, moulding into a body. It’s body rest next to the tub and peered over into the water. Before she could react, it reached its arms into the water, holding her by the neck and shoulder, preventing her from getting air. She thrashed under its hold. She tried kicking it, water sloshing out of the tub. Her legs couldn’t reach it, she was being pushed further under the water. Her eyes and lungs burnt, deprived of oxygen. Audrey reached her arms ups trying to scratch the arms of the shadow but they fell through it. The shadow removed a hand from her shoulder, instead pressing it against her arm. Black swirls wrapped around it, like a snake constricting its prey. It ran down her arms onto her body and around her neck. A black snake-like shadow raised its head from around her neck, readying to pounce. Her mouth opened slightly, choking on the water. She couldn’t control her body, it was almost as if the shadow was controlling her, making her no longer resist against it.

The door to the bathroom unlocked, a Slytherin prefect entered the room. The shadow vanished instantly. Audrey shot her head out from under the water instantly. Her lungs filled with oxygen as she heaved. The prefect wandered closer to the stall and waved her hand through the opening of the curtain.

“You need to be in your bedroom in five minutes, lights out soon.”

In a few minutes, Audrey stood in her nightgown in the bedroom. Her hair was still wet from the shower. She pulled the blanket back, desperate to fall asleep and escape to a dream for a little while. A letter was tucked under her pillow slightly. She picked it up and opened it. It was Fig, asking her to come to his office as soon as possible the next day. She tore it up, placing it in the log burner in the middle of the room. What did he need now?

4th September 1890

As Audrey made her way out of Fig’s office the following day, she spotted Sebastian sitting on a bench nearby. Was he waiting for her?

“Sebastian, its good to see you.”

“I was hoping to see you today. So what was all of that yesterday with Rookwood and Ranrok?” Audrey contemplated whether she should tell him the truth or not. It wasn’t like he was going to tell the professors.

“Seems he’s working with Ranrok. And Ranrok is after something I found at Gringotts.” “Ranrok? And when were you at Gringotts?” He thought she said she hadn’t left the castle.

“Professor Fig and I ended up there after the dragon attack. Its quite the tale – Fig had this Portkey – “A Portkey? To Gringotts? I’m not sure I follow.” Audrey wanted to roll her eyes at him interrupting. It was one of her biggest pet peeves. Sebastian couldn’t understand what she was saying. How did she end up at Gringotts after a dragon attack? Why didn’t she get the Hogwarts Express like the rest of the students. There must be more to it that she isn’t telling me, he thought.

“I barely follow myself – and I was there. Anyway, we ended up in an ancient vault where we found a map. That map leads to a restricted section.” The blue flickers of light on the map danced in her memory. She needed to get access there, and she knew Sebastian had a habit of wandering those shelves. “Professor Fig insisted that I not tell a should not tell a soul about any of this. I’ve probably said too much.” She wouldn’t have gone against what Fig told her, but Sebastian was not shy of asking her questions about what she was doing.

“Understood.” He didn’t attempt prying anymore. It was clear she wasn’t going to reveal anything else at the moment no matter how hard he tried getting an answer. Besides, he didn’t want her getting in trouble with Fig. “Your secret’s safe with me. Whatever it is.

Audrey breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Sebastian. You mentioned being ‘clever enough not ot get caught’ in the Restricted Section.”

Sebastian smiled, happy she remembered his slight gloat of being able to get into the locked off part of the library. “And I am. Meet me outside the library tonight. And tell no one.”

After curfew, Sebastian stood at the railing at the bottom of the staircase. He had gotten there a bit earlier than what he and Audrey had planned to. He wanted to scope out the place first as prefects stood watch making sure no one was out after curfew. She would be here any minute now. He turned to face the stairs and leaned back against the railing, his hands clasped in front of him as he waited. Then he saw her, she hurried down the stairs quietly, still dressed in her school uniform.

Once together, they knelt down and looked towards the prefects. “See there? That’s the door that we need to reach. And those annoying prefects would love nothing more than to rat on us to Scribner, so don’t let them see us – understood?”

“I can be sneaky. Let’s go.” Audrey started past him, but he grabbed her wrist pulling her back towards him. They made eye contact, and he quickly let go of her wrist realising he was still holding onto it.

“Hold on now. There’s a spell you should know – the Disillusionment charm. Good for getting places you’re not supposed to be. Cast it, and you’ll appear as little more than a trick of the light. Just as long as you keep your distance and stay quiet.”

She whispered in amazement. “You mean ill actually be able to turn invisible.” She couldn’t’ wait to use this at home. Midnight trips into the kitchen and sneaking one of the lush pastries the chef had prepared for the next day would be so much easier.

“Something like that. Its not as fool proof as a cloak, but those are expensive. And spells – spells are free.” She was slightly disappointed. The disillusionment charm may not be effective sneaking past those acquainted with the spell, but those in the muggle world would have no idea. Oh, the places she could sneak into now. He quickly taught her the spell, and watched her body fade invisible. He quickly followed and they made their way down the staircase. He noticed her stop when a prefect faced in her direction, quickly moving again once they had turned away.

The door to the library creaked open, and the two made their way inside. “Blast. The librarians still here. Quick. Behind the bookcase.”

Once behind the bookcase, they emerged from the charm, facing each other.

“You told me the librarian wouldn’t be here!” She whispered to him.

“I said ‘usually’, but it’ll still be alright. Do you see her desk behind me? The key is in the drawer of that desk. Now, here’s what we’re going to do. Ill create a distraction to draw her away. You focus on getting the key. Ill meet you outside the Restricted Section. I said id get you in, and I always keep my word.”

She nodded at him and tiptoed over to the bench. What is she doing, Sebastian thought to himself. She raised her leg on top the bench and started undoing the laces on her boots. She slipped them both off. He stood dumbfounded, her skirt had raised slightly, exposing her knee and a bit of her thigh. He saw where the socks ended, and skin started. She turned towards him, smiling at his shocked face. Realising what he was doing, he shook his head and gave her a puzzled look.

“Makes less noise on the floorboards, she won’t know I’m near here if they don’t creak.”

She disappeared from sight and he heard her breathing quietly as she made her way past him towards Scribner’s desk. He disappeared, sneaking his way over to some shelves. He pulled out his wand and pointed it towards a pile of books. It pained him a little to damage the books, his personal collection at Feldcroft was something he cherished. He cast a spell towards them, and they flew up into the air, pages littered the ground. Quickly, he made his way towards the staircase near the Restricted Section while Audrey used the distraction to collect the key. She made her way back to him. He warned her of a book which appeared far more useful than it actually was. They cast spells at armour, distracting the ghost that wandered nearby them. Eventually they made it to the gate.

They both came out from the charm. Sebastian placed the key into the lock, happy over the satisfying click as the gate unlocked. They wandered in and Audrey admired the books around her. They were older looking and much thicker than the books that filled the shelves the floor above.

“So, what are you looking for?”

He pondered telling her the truth, he owed her since she had risked getting in trouble from Fig after she had told him a bit about her weird arrival at the castle. “I’m looking for a cure to help my sister. So that she can return to Hogwarts. Because Merlin knows everyone else has given up.” Audrey reflected on the last part. She assumed Anne was dealing with a sickness that was curable or something she could recover from eventually. The way Sebastian phrased it, it seemed as those her situation was more dire.

“Why do you think you’ll find a cure in the Restricted Section? Does the Hogwarts matron have nothing that can help Anne?” She thought of her mother, dying in bed after giving birth to her. If she could, she would have done anything she could have done to save her.

“No. We’ve tried everyone from Nurse Blainey to St Mungo’s.” He sounded exacerbated. “But I can research on my own. No need to concern yourself with that right now. Let’s focus on what you’re after. Which is what, precisely?”

“Ill know it when I see it.” Sebastian sighed. “You’re being awfully cryptic.” She knew she was. Audrey wished she could have a proper conversation with him about what she was doing. It was difficult to have a conversation with him when he’d ask the perfect question she could not answer. It was like trying to speak in riddles. Enough that would satisfy his curiosity but not enough to betray what Fig had asked of her. They continued further into the Restricted Section and rounded around the corner.

Peeves jumped out from the wall and twirled in the air.

“Sebastian Sallow and his new little friend, out exploring where they shouldn’t be! Naughty naughty, you’ll get caught!” He soared over their heads in the direction of the desk.

“Peeves, don’t you –“ Sebastian glared at him as Peeves chanted that he was going to tell on the pair. “Blasted Peeves! I’ve got to stop him, or at least get to the librarian with a good excuse for all of this.” “Wait, I don’t want you getting into trouble for me.”

Sebastian smirked. “I have a way with the faculty when it comes to disciplinary matters. Besides, I like having friends who are in my debt. Now go. Good luck in your search.” He waved his wand and vanished in front of her. She heard his footsteps walk away from her as he called out for Peeves.

There wasn’t any time to waste, she had to go further into the Restricted Section and find what Fig asked her to.

Sebastian peered around the corner, checking whether Scribner was at the desk still. He needed to return the key quickly before she found him. He stalked his way over, but Peeves followed him, twirling around his body.

“Sneaking in the Restricted Section – again!”

Shit!

He looked at Scribner, her face full of disappointment. “Not even a day has gone by since your last attempt. Clearly detentions are insufficient.” Peeves circles his body more, agitating Sebastian. “I’m afraid I must take this to the headmaster.”

He reached his arm out to her. “But – “

“That being said, Peeves informs me that you didn’t come alone tonight. If someone has coerced you, I would have you tell me.” Her face softened slightly. As irritating as he was, constantly defying her orders to stop sneaking into the library. She had a soft spot for the boy, somewhat aware of what he was going through. “You’re a bright boy. Don’t waste this.”

Audrey saw him glance in her direction. He looked in her eyes briefly before facing his attention back towards Scribner. “There was no one else. I came alone.” Audrey sighed in relief. She would be more in his debt than she originally was. She would repay him later for his selflessness.

Scribner tutted. “Oh, Sebastian. What will your uncle say?” She turned away from him. Peeves floated mere inches from his face and blew a raspberry. Sebastian closed his eyes, recoiling. His shoulder slumped slightly, and Audrey watched as he followed them out of the library.

6th September 1890

Audrey hadn’t seen him the rest of that day or the next one. She assumed he had been in detention all day. She sat in the common room near the window and looked out into the water of the Black Lake. School had finished for the day and most students were in the Great Hall enjoying dinner. Natty and Poppy invited her to sit with them but she declined, her appetite had shrunk the past few days.

She held her knees to her chest and traced a finger on the glass. It was cool from the coldness of the lake, but she didn’t feel the chill. The fireplace nearby warming her greatly. Fishes and creatures, she still hadn’t learnt the names of swam by. Swarms of green and blues filtered in her vision, the light reflected the waves of water onto the floor where she sat. It was beautiful, far more enjoyable to sit by compared to the dirty water of the Thames.

“Didn’t I tell you mermaids are not interested in us.” She looked up to where Ominis stood smiling down at her. He held a goblet and a plate stacked with pastries. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was hoping a mermaid would swim by. The thought of seeing their mystical tails as they swam nearby filled her with excitement.

“No, just daydreaming. Although, if a mermaid did swim by, I would be very happy.”

He chuckled softly and sat down beside her. “This is for you by the way. I noticed you wasn’t in the Great Hall and thought you shouldn’t miss out on dinner.”

She thanked him and took a swig from the goblet. It was rich and sweet, filled with the juices of different types of berries.

“Mm, what magical ingredients do they put in this?” She asked him.

He smiled in response. “Strawberries, cherries and raspberries with a little bit milk to take away the tartness.” She didn’t hide her disappointment that this wasn’t another secret of the wizarding world.

They sat in silence for a little while, both pecking at the savoury pastries he had brought with him. The only sound was from the fire crackling and the water against the window. Audrey couldn’t deny her curiosity as to how he managed his way around the castle blind when she could hardly find her way around the place as it was.

“Go on, you can ask me.” She was taken by surprise that he had an idea of what she wanted to ask.

“I’m sorry, it’s just I can’t fathom as to how you make your way around the castle. How did you even know I wasn’t in the Great Hall and was in here?”

“Its ok, I’d wonder the same thing. My wand guides me. I can feel it lean slightly in the direction I want to be heading in. It’s almost as if its sentient. It just knows when and where I want to go.” That made a lot of sense. Anytime she had seen him, his wand was raised slightly whenever he was walking. Even when he was sat, it was placed directly next to him. “And as for knowing where you were, I overheard some students discussing where you were. You’re the talk of the school, everyone wants to speak to you it seems. I figured you were in the common room. Sebastian told me he was in detention all day but he hadn’t mentioned your name. I know you were both in the Restricted Section last night.”

That confirmed where Sebastian was then. It made sense he knew they were both there. They shared a bedroom so they must be close friends. Plus, she saw them together a lot, especially in lessons she had with them both.

Some more silence passed between them. “He speaks a lot about you, you know.” Audrey looked up at him. Ominis looked out into the lake. Light danced in his eyes. “Since you joined, he hasn’t shut up about you. I think he sees great potential in your abilities, which you do. Almost as good as the two of us.” He teased. No wonder the two boys were in Slytherin. Despite how nice they were to her; their egos were obvious.

She smiled a little. Before she could respond to him and ask more about what Sebastian had said about her, he appeared next to them grinning.

“The staff are still weak to my charm, I managed to get out of detention an hour early.” He plopped down next to Ominis taking the goblet from his hand and taking a large swig while picking up two of the pastries. He ate them quickly, Ominis looked at Audrey with his eyebrows raised slightly. She chuckled to herself quietly.

“We were just discussing about Audrey’s first week at Hogwarts.” Sebastian looked in her direction and smiled.

“So, how have you found it?”

She couldn’t answer it properly. So much had happened within the seven days. A man dying in front of her, jumping out of a carriage to avoid death, battling giant suits of armour and a troll, Ranrok, Rookwood, the shadow that tried murdering her. She hadn’t told anyone of the shadow, not even Fig.

“It’s been good. I’m excited to carry on with my lessons and explore more of the castle.” It wasn’t a lie, but wasn’t the entire truth.

Before they could continue their conversation, a red envelop flittered into view and floated in front of Sebastian’s face.

“Oh no.” It curled slightly resembling a mouth and a red ribbon stuck out resembling a tongue with the parchment crinkling into the shape of teeth.

“Sebastian Sallow! How many times must you be told to stop trying to get into the Restricted Section. I’m sick to death of getting owls from Hogwarts telling me of another attempt. You’re too much like your father boy! If I receive another owl this term, you won’t be coming home for Christmas!” The howler blew a raspberry at him and shredded itself up, the paper littering on the floor.

Sebastian smiled awkwardly at them. “Sorry about that.” He scratched behind his ear, slightly embarrassed. Ominis shook his head slightly.

“That’s a howler. Nasty piece of parchment that doesn’t care to embarrass you. I’ve received a couple from my family in the middle of dinner.”

She was grateful her father had no idea of them. The thought of being embarrassed like that in front of her peers made her feel awkward at just the thought.

“Speaking of parchment, I need to write my father a letter. Ill see you later.” She stood up leaving the two and headed towards her dorm. She sat at her desk, setting up the parchment and ink pot and quill. What could she tell him? He didn’t know much about the wizarding world. What could he know? Was she even allowed to tell him? She dipped the quill in the black ink and pressed it to the parchment.

Dear father,

Much excitement at Hogwarts the past week. It Is a truly remarkable place. The castle is so magical and I’ve hardly scratched the surface on what to explore. I’ve been told I’m a model student already, quickly adapting to the extra spells I am being taught. I’m afraid there isn’t much I can say, I don’t want to risk this letter falling into the hands of the staff at home and them taking a peek inside. Please send them my regards. I miss you terribly. A part of me wishes we could go back to the days where we would walk in the sun and look at the butterflies and compare them.

I look forward to hearing back from you. All my love,

Your daughter, Audrey.

PS. Please don’t be alarmed by the owl that will wait at your office window. They deliver the post.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian and ominis #sebastain sallow x reader #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis gaunt

10 notes · View notes

thepaintedlady00 · 1 year

Text

Nightshade Chapter 8 Sneak Peek!

Enjoy your pick guys 😅👀😊

🛁

"Are you okay with this?" Peter asked softly. "Patrick or I can take care of him."

"I've got it Pete," I assured him with a smile.

Patrick ruffled my hair. "We're one holler away if you need us, little sister."

I combed my hair down and lovingly flipped them off before turning and closing the door. My bed was empty. "Jake?" The bathroom door creaked slightly and there was a light commotion echoing in the bathroom. I carefully pushed it open to find Jake laying in the bathtub, his eyes screamed shut as he tried to steady his breathing. "Jake?"

"I just need a minute," he said breathlessly. Frustrated and embarrassed, his face tightened.

"That's okay," I said slowly, moving to stand next to the tub. "There any room for one more?"

Jake looked up at me for a minute before silently sitting up and making space for me to climb into the tub with him. It was tight, uncomfortable but I could tell that having me close helped him relax. "This is fucking ridiculous."

"Yeah, I've always said they need to make bathtubs bigger."

He chuckled. "Not that." Gesturing to himself he scoffed. "Me. I'm… I'm being fucking stupid."

"No you aren't," I assured him, resting my chin on my knees. "If it works it's not stupid."

I thought he was going to laugh again, but instead, he made a strange noise. "You know, I used to lay in the bathtub at Simone's parent's house and hold my breath until I felt like I was going to pass out." The confession was quiet but focused. His tense posture didn't shift as he continued, "I wanted to feel what she did… Wanted to know if my mom suffered when she drowned." He shook his head as if he was trying to keep certain memories from taking root. "When I was a bit older I actually added water. Almost drowned myself by accident before Simone found me. She was livid. Dragged me out of the bath and screamed at me for being selfish and stupid. And that was when she told me the truth." He took deep breaths as his face twisted into an expression of anger and guilt. "It wasn't an accident. My mom… She walked into the water and she chose to die."

I forced myself to stay calm, though the new information made my own guilt about Jake's involvement with my trauma rage inside me. This isn't about me. This is about him. I reminded myself. I wouldn't force my guilt on him, not when it wasn't his fault I felt that way, not when he needed me at this moment. "I'm sorry Jake. That… That doesn't sound like it was easy."

His eyes met mine as a tear escaped his tight hold. "What did I do? What did I do to make her do that?" Oh, Jake… He shook his head, laughing quietly. "I know I'm an insufferable asshole… I know I'm annoying and selfish and manipulative… But I just…" All I could hear was Simone. This was her voice in his head, her voice telling him it was his fault, that he was the problem.

"Listen to me," I instructed softly as I moved in the small tub, practically laying on top of him as I took hold of his face. "It wasn't your fault. None of it." He started to shake his head again, but I held firm. "You are not annoying or selfish or manipulative. You are a human being… One that is kind of an asshole sometimes, but you just so happen to be one of the nicest assholes I've ever met."

"You don't really think that," he insisted.

"I told you about my mom," I countered. "I told you about my very impressive criminal record. If I wanted to lie to you Jake, I would've done it by now."

He closed his eyes, leaning into my hands for a minute before quietly asking, "Why is it so easy with you?"

"Must be my unparalleled charisma."

Jake laughed, bright blue eyes staring up at me free of his usual restrictions. I could see everything he felt and realized why he always forced himself to look so grumpy. Those blue eyes studied my face before moving to my hair as he lifted a hand to run his fingers through it. "I never thought I'd get this attached to you." He shook his head. "You were supposed to be easy… A quick fling to make me feel better."

I refrained from laughing. "Do I not make you feel better?"

"You do," he admitted. "You make me feel like myself."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

Another tear rolled down his cheek. "It's been a long time since I've been me."

#fic: nightshade #jake sweetbitter #sweet bitter #sweetbitter jake #sweetbitter #sweetbitter Jake x oc #sweetbitter Jake x Lena #sweetbitter jake x oc #jake x lena #sneak peek

10 notes · View notes

jerzwriter · 9 months

Note

What is something special that each LI does to comfort their MC and vice versa

Hey there! I'm so sorry this took so long to answer (meanwhile, people who sent MUCH OLDER asks are like, "Hey, wait!" lol I'm catching up! lol). Since I know you like Trystan x Carolina, I'll start with them. 😊

Trystan x Carolina:

I believe Trystan would spoil the heck out of Carolina if she allowed him to, but she doesn't. So he does it in little ways. For example, in fics I've written, he memorizes how she takes her coffee so he can prepare it perfectly for her. When she mentions a place in Brooklyn that makes her favorite doughnuts, he gets up early to surprise her with them at work. I can see him always doing little things to let her know how special she is, and he'd double those efforts if he knew she was down.

With Carolina, I think it's a combination of three things she'd do for him, and they work hand in hand: comforting words, touch, and a safe space. Trystan grew up spoiled, surrounded by a huge family... but largely alone. He knew every move he made would be watched and judged. So Carolina wants to provide him with a warm, safe space where he's free to be himself, where she'll listen without judgment. She'll hold his hand, rub his shoulders, give a hug... maybe more. 😏 She wants him to know he's cared for, he's loved, and he can be himself.

I'll do my other pairings below the break - because those two got long! lol

Ethan / Kaycee:

Ethan tries to provide Kaycee with a sense of security. I think this is partially a result of the instability that he created at the beginning of their relationship. Even after that's long over, he always wants her to know she's at home with him. So there are a lot of reminders and reassurances that he's there - be it verbal, physical, or through kind acts. He always has her back, and she never has to doubt it.

Kaycee's is honestly very similar to Ethan's, particularly since he has issues with feeling safe/secure with people. She's there when he needs her, fully present. She isn't going to drop everything all the time (unless it's an emergency, of course), but even if it is texting/calling, having his favorite coffee delivered if she can't bring it herself. She lets him know she's always there for him.

Tobias/Casey:

Like Trystan, Tobias wants to spoil the heck out of Casey 24/7. Like Carolina, Casey doesn't really let him go overboard, but he still finds his ways. Making sure they always have her favorite things at home, lighting candles in the bathroom before she goes to take her bath, a shoulder rub during the day at work, other things when they get home 😏. Tobias is really totally whipped when we come down to it. lol

Physical touch is important to Tobias, and not just in a sexual way. Holding hands, a quick kiss, or little caress if they're out together. Snuggling on the couch, long hugs, dancing close together... other things 😏. So Casey provides plenty of that for him, especially if she knows he's struggling with something.

It's funny I see parallels between Trystan x Carolina and Tobias x Casey, and they're both T/C and not by design. lol

Eli/Zoe:

Oh, these poor babies. Living in a post-apocalyptic world is hard and comes with struggles we can't imagine. They've both been through things that are hard to imagine surviving, but they do. Life is structured around survival, so there isn't always time to dwell on the trauma... but it never goes away.

Eli's way of coping was to literally shut himself off from everyone and everything. Zoe's is to attempt to appreciate everything and make it all worthwhile. While Zoe's seems so much healthier, it comes with a price. She feels she has to live the best life she can; she has to be happy and appreciative, particularly after her sister dies because she feels she owes it to her, and that's a lot of expectations to live with.

So, they each become each other's safe spot in the world. Zoe gives Eli a space where he can always be himself - and sometimes that's showing a vulnerability the rest of the world doesn't see. Likewise, Zoe can let down her guard and show her sadness and anger when she's with him, and he assures her it's OK to do that.

They don't live in a world where gifts, as we see them, are plentiful, but they give each other little gifts all the time. It might be a flower, a drawing, a love letter, or something they find when out scavaging, but they like each other to have something tangible to show their love

I'm sure that was MUCH more than you were looking for, but don't get me talking about my babies! lol

Thanks so much for the ask!

#trystan thorne #trystan x carolina #ethan ramsey #ethan x kaycee #tobias carrick #tobias x casey #eli sipes #eli x zoe #comfort #asks answered

3 notes · View notes

walkingwiththegods1 · 1 year

Text

Pagan Misconceptions Clarified: Why Amaterasu, is NOT "Only The Goddess of The Sun, Than is The Only Female Deity Than Leads to a Pantheon of Gods; Today?!"

Amaterasu, is maybe a Deity than is not so well know in The Western World; (for the geographical distance and for the few translations of Japanese Mythology, we have the chance to read... ) but, is worthy to know about this Deity; for the fact than she is the only leading female figure, in one of Today's Mayor Religions of The World; Shinto: The Traditional and National Religion of Japan!

Amaterasu, is The Goddess of The Sun; and the Ruler of the Heavenly Realm, Takamagahara; and she is not only the Ruler of Heaven, she is too; the Divine Ancestress of... The Imperial Family of Japan! She is the sister of Tsukuyomi,(The Moon-God) Susanoo; (The Warrior God of Storms and The Sea) The Eight Islands than conforms Japan, (Oyashima) a few more islands, Kagu-tsuchi, (The God of Fire) and of many other Deities.

Note: Except for some Shinto's Denominations, this is not a closed religion; in general. (But... always ask before to enter to a Shinto Temple, and conduct yourself properly; when you are there, Okay?!)

And, now... The qualities than makes Amaterasu, the great Goddess she is; today!

All started, with the story of her birth: The Creator God Izanagi, (after failed to recover to his wife than recently died, and he went to The Underworld to retrieved her; and he had to left her, when he saw her now new form; and she tried to kill him...) he goes to bathed himself to get rid of the impurities; after his trip to Yomi, (Japanese Underworld) and while he was washing his face; it ocurred the marvelous birth of "The Three Precious", which are the most important children of Izanagi: Amaterasu, from his left eye; Tsukuyomi, from his right eye; and Susanoo, from his nose. Izanagi, decided than Amaterasu must being named; as The Ruler of Takamagahara; (Heavenly Realm) Tsukuyomi, The Night; and Susanoo, The Seas. She became The Goddess of The Sun, than which as The Goddess of The Sun; she gives warm and love to any person than follow her.

Next, Susanoo; (for his difficult nature) was expelled from The Heavenly Realm, but; according to one popular myth; before he could left... He went to Takamagahara, to say godbye to her sister. Amaterasu, (than supected than something, was "Off...") went to meet to her youngest brother in male clothes and in clad armor; and Susanoo proposed a trial by pledge, as to show his sincerity: Each of them, chewed and spat an object carried by the other, and in result; five Gods and three Goddesses were created, Amaterasu adopted the males; and the female deities, she left them to his brother. But, Susanoo alleged than; because he produces more Gods of the ideal gender, he won... And causes such a wreck, than even the benevolent and tolerant Goddess; ended very furious when Susanoo makes a hole over Amaterasu's Weaving Hall, hurled a heavenly horse inside; which he flayed alive, (Poor horsey!...) which indirectly caused the death of one of Amaterasu's Weaving Maidens; and The Sun-Goddess, indignated; leaved and entered inside a cave and shut it herself, with no desire to get out again: Her hiding, provoques than Heaven and Earth; to fell in total darkness.

The Kami, (Minor Deities in Shinto) were really despair; because without the warm and light of Amaterasu, was hard to see anything right in front of them; and not only Gods and Mortals, had to deal with how incomodate is being in the dark with cold; so they have to deal with the evil spirits than multiplies in Earth, causing all kind of troubles. They, with the help of The God of Wisdom; Omoikane, devices a plan to makes Amaterasu to get out; to her self-impose exile: They gather a mirror, goes near to the cave with these object; and they started a mini-party, where one of The Goddesses, made somthing than provoques the laughter of the other Deities. Amaterasu, heared the noise outside; so she asked after opening a bit the entrance of the cave, what was the reason of such laughter; and one of the Kami told her, than they have found a Deity greater than she; so out of curiosity, she opened the entrance more to try to see to that Deity; herself, and when she put her face closer... One of the Kami, put the mirror in front of her; making her feel disoriented by her own reflection, (she never have saw her own face before) and other Kami grabbed her by one arm; pulling her out of the cave, (which was forever sealed, to prevent her to enter it; again) and.... The Sun-Goddess's Light and Warm, were back again! Amaterasu, realized after been convinced by the other Kamis; than The World was better with her presence, so she came back to the Heavenly Realm, so her Light and Warm; never left The World, since then!

But, Amaterasu's power and influences; doesn't finish with her Solar Powers!

In other myths, she is The Goddess than gave many things to Humanity; than without them... Life for Humans will be sorrowful, and Humanity will have dissapeared a lot time ago: She created Agriculture, gave Rice to the first Humans as principal food; and she created Sericulture. (Cultivation for rising Silkworms, so people could make dresses)

Amaterasu's grandson, Ninigi; goes to Earth, to pacified Japan, and Ninigi's great grandson; Jimmu, became The First Emperor of Japan: For that reason, Amaterasu is the Goddess and Ancestress of The Imperial Family of Japan!

Curious fact: The Imperial Temple in Ise, is the most important Temple; dedicated to Amaterasu. (So, if one day you travel to Japan; and go to visit it... Remember to purify yourself, put your hands in praying mode for a little moment with your eyes close; and bow your head a little as sign of respect, open your eyes; and... Continue your visit with respect, and be sure to imitated the action of the local visitors in the Temple; to avoid being irrespectful by accident!)

These is all, about The Sun-Goddess; than even today greets to all each morning, and is always present to her followers; inside and out of Japan: Amaterasu!

Have all of you, bright and warm days; full of Light... So Be It!

#pagan writings #pagan writer #pagan misconceptions clarified #asian deities #japanese goddess amaterasu #japanese goddess amaterasu is not only the goddess of the sun #amaterasu deity #pagans #pagan #eclectic pagan #ecletic pagan #hellenic pagan #lokean #pagan from the caribbean

2 notes · View notes

malum-forev · 3 years

Text

It's Not My Cup of Tea

Summary: Bucky needs to find a way to relax and (y/n)'s way seems like the best fit for him.

Warnings: noneee pure fluff, well... some light mentions of smut.

Coming back from a mission always felt strange for Bucky. He knew it wasn’t supposed to be like this but, for him, fighting was his normal. So, coming back to the peaceful compound just felt weird. Slowly he started to grow accustomed to this feeling, as he saw his friends develop a routine. Sam would always want everyone to watch TV together and have a laugh, but when nobody was down to do that, he would talk to his sister. Natasha, the second she would get off of the quinjet would disappear. Wanda and Vision were always together and (y/n) would take a long bath.

“It’s like having your own spa.” (y/n) defended as she walked into the compound with Sam and Bucky.

“You have to admit that you’ve done it. It won’t make us think you’ve gone soft.” Sam laughed as he took his sunglasses off.

“I don’t really feel like steeping in a giant teacup.” Bucky said just wanting the conversation to end.

“It’s not a giant teacup.” (y/n) said with a short laugh.

“Fine, human stew whatever you want to call it. I want nothing to do with it.” Bucky said annoyed.

“You seem stressed.” (y/n) said, a smile creeping onto her lips. “You know what you need?”

“(y/n)” he warned “if you say or even imply that I need a bath, I swear I will-“

“He doesn’t even know what he’s saying!” Sam interrupted from across the room, already sitting down on the couch. “Plus, he’d probably get rusted.”

Sam and (y/n) let out a huge laugh. “My arm is waterproof.” Was the only thing Bucky said, accompanied by an eye roll.

“I think somebody needs a relaxing bath.” (Y/n) said in a baby voice, clearly mocking the former assassin.

“If I’m ever in a bathtub, it will only be because you’re in there with me.” Bucky said with a charming smile. He loved the way (y/n) immediately blushed and got flustered whenever he playfully flirted with her.

Like clockwork, (y/n) turned bright red and tried to reply something, only for it to come out as a stutter.

“This may be my record. Only one sentence and I already have you mumbling. Where’s that tough exterior you claim to have?” Bucky said throwing her a wink and swiping his thumb on her jaw. Getting dangerously close. If it weren’t for Sam being there, he would probably have the guts to kiss her.

(Y/n) quickly composed herself and slapped away his hand. “The only way I would be taking a bath with you is if you get in when I’m already there.”

She grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and left the kitchen. It had been months of this playful flirting and (y/n) thought it was fun. Until she found herself thinking of Bucky more and more. She knew it was dangerous to be involved with someone, let alone someone she worked with. This was the life she chose, and of course it had many perks but, it also had many flaws. Not being able to keep a relationship was one of the big flaws. She would love to have someone to share her life with and talk about her deepest fears but, it was virtually impossible.

A few weeks later, they all found themselves in the exact same spot. Coming back from a mission. But this time, it had failed. This mission was especially difficult for Bucky because they had to infiltrate a HYDRA base where he was once kept and tested on. He hadn’t said a word to anyone since they had all been discovered. He hadn’t even made a single noise during the flight back. Memories that were nightmares for him had been flooding his mind, he just wanted to shut his brain off. Bucky found himself walking past everyone and heading straight to his room. Ignoring Sam’s lighthearted jokes and almost bumping into Vision. Before he reached his bedroom, he felt someone grab his arm.

“Don’t touch me.” Bucky said through gritted teeth, as he turned around and saw (y/n).

“I just wanted to tell you that you can always count on me. I know today was tough, so I just wanted you to know that. We can talk or just sit in silence, but I’m always there for you. At whatever time, at whatever moment.”

She quickly let go of his arm, turned around and left before Bucky could even say anything. He twisted the knob and entered his room, wanting to leave everything behind the closed door and just forget everything. He laid rigid on his bed, closing his eyes, and falling asleep.

What he felt were only seconds later, he woke up drenched in sweat. Heavy breathing was the only thing that could be heard in the dark bedroom. The nightmares had come back and were especially bad that night. He turned around and looked at the clock. He had only slept for two hours.

“It’s always 1:30.” He muttered. Bucky got out of bed and exited the room, trying to find anything that would distract him. The long corridor was dark with only one light source, the gap between the floor and (y/n)’s bedroom door. He paced a couple of times outside her door, debating whether he should knock. Was she really awake or had she just fallen asleep with the light on. Was she going to think he was a creep for coming to her room at 1:30 am. Before he could do anything, he realized his hand was knocking on her door. A light knock that opened the barely closed door.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered. Peeking his head into your room. This was only the second time he had seen it. The first time was when she got blackout drunk at one of Tony’s galas and insisted that Bucky should help her get to her room. She was nowhere to be found, that was until Bucky heard the light music coming from the bathroom. He knew what he was doing was risky, if she wasn’t on the same page as Bucky this would completely ruin their friendship, but he didn’t care. The only place he wanted to be was in there with her.

He closed the door carefully behind him and took a couple of steps until he was at the bathroom door, with each step he could hear his heart beating faster and the sounds of the faucet and Frank Sinatra on the speaker only made him even more nervous. He knocked twice.

“Buck?” he heard (y/n) say from behind the cracked door.

“Um, yeah, it-it’s me. How did you know?” Bucky said nervously rubbing the back of his neck, ‘This was a mistake, what are you doing?’ were the only things going through his mind.

“FRIDAY told me you were walking back and forth from my door to yours.” She said trying to hold back her laughter.

“I- I forgot that this place has more security than a military compound.”

“You can come in; I mean if you want. If you feel more comfortable, we can keep talking through the door.” (y/n) said, Bucky could already imagine the smile on her face. She could see right through him and know when he was nervous. As he opened the door he saw (Y/n) in the tub, candles and music and bubbles were adorning the whole bathroom.

“I just- well I know this is- I wanted to” Bucky couldn’t form a sentence, the mere sight of here in her safe place made his brain go to mush. He had eyes and obviously saw that (y/n) was beautiful, but it wasn’t what had caught Bucky’s attention, it was her personality and how she dominated every room she walked into. But this moment right here, she looked even more beautiful. Even if her hair wasn’t done, even if she wasn’t wearing makeup, even if she wasn’t killing enemies and saving Bucky’s life. It was how peaceful she looked.

“We don’t have to talk.” She whispered. “Join me?”

Bucky, again, felt his hands move even before his brain had decided what to do. He took his shirt off and then came his bottoms. (Y/n) blushed and faced the wall to give Bucky some privacy as he undressed.

Bucky laughed a bit. “You can look you know; I mean I am getting into a tub with you.”

“I know, but this- this isn’t like that.” (y/n) said, still looking away. “This isn’t sexual, this is something else. I don’t want to ruin this moment by turning into something that-“

“Turning it into something that will come at another time.” Was all that Bucky replied. With a hiss he stepped into the almost boiling hot water and (y/n) turned to face him. She saw as his face relaxed and contorted with every move he made.

“It’s the bath salts.” She said with a grin.

“Well, the bath salts are getting pretty intimate with me.” Bucky said and they both let out a laugh. As the smiles died down, (y/n) faced him.

“I’m sorry for today, I know it must have been hard.”

Bucky shrugged. “Sometimes it’s good to go back to a place where people harmed you. Just so you can see how much you’ve grown.”

An hour and a tub full of lukewarm water later, they decided it was time to get out. “You’re gonna have to face the wall, I need some privacy while I get out of here.”

“This is probably the most intimate thing I’ve ever done in years, and now you’re telling me you need privacy? We’ve been naked in here for hours!” Bucky laughed as he turned to the wall, hearing some water splash as (y/n) got out of the tub, he shot her a side eye glance.

“I saw that.” (y/n) said with a smile as she looked at Bucky through the mirror, wrapping a towel on her body. “You can look now.”

“Pass me one of those?” he said as he stood up from the tub, he watched her eyes widen as she looked at Bucky from his toes to his head. She quickly passed him a towel and turned to face the door, clearly embarrassed and blushing. “I saw that.” Was all he said, with a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

He gathered all of his clothes and pressed his lips to her temple. “We should do this again.”

(Y/n) was still in shock and couldn’t say anything as she saw the former winter soldier exit her bedroom. She sat on her bed with her head in her hands.

“Fuck.” Was all that could escape her lips, she was definitely falling for him.

674 notes · View notes

from-a-reckless-writer · 3 years

Text

iii. Luthor

read on ao3

She got hit by a bus. She definitely got hit by a bus.

No, no, wait.

She's-

"You're awake. Oh, thank God."

When her eyes blink open, it's to the extremely bright florescent lights of the DEO med bay. Senses come back to her slowly; the sharp smell of alcohol, the dry cool sheets against her skin, and Alex.

Alex's voice, then her heartbeat.

She tries to sit up but Alex puts a hand on her shoulder, gently pushes her back down.

"Ugh," she groans as dizziness overtakes her. "How long was I out?"

"30 hours, give or take. You need to take it easy, Kara,” her sister sighs. “You’re lucky we got to you when we did. Lillian got away though, I’m sorry.”

“T-they had Kryptonite, Alex.”

“I know.”

She breathes in deep, lets it out through parted lips, hand coming up to massage her temple.

“Lena? Where’s Lena?”

“Nia said she found her passed out on your bed,” Alex says, adjusting the sunlamps so it isn’t glaring into Kara’s face. “She’s been staying vigil by your side since yesterday. That woman needs to learn how to rest. I swear to God, the both of you—”

“What?” she asks.

“I wanna go home,” she tells her. Alex makes a sound of protest, so Kara argues, “You know you hit two stones with one bird if you keep us together.”

She hears Alex halt in her movements.

She squints against the remaining brightness of the unadjusted sunlamp. Her sister arms frozen mid-way.

Alex is giving her a strange look.

Alex’s eyes narrow at her.

“What did you say?” Alex demands. “Just now, what did you say? Did you say two stones with one bird?”

Kara shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts enough to rewind back the last few seconds. She finds she can’t remember. She was saying something about Lena, about-

Going home?????

Her head feels fuzzy. Heavy.

“Mm’sorry must still be a bit out of it.”

“I’m doing another scan,” her sister says, words final and Kara groans loudly.

“Ughh, Alex. Please. I want to go home. There’s probably nothing wrong.”

Alex wheels her out nonetheless.

******

Something is wrong.

Something is very wrong.

“Alex?”

She doesn’t understand, why is- why does Alex look like that? Alex’s eyes are bloodshot. What- Why is her head fuzzy? Why is she-

She pulls a hand to her temple. She can’t. A metallic clang echoes.

She’s cuffed; strapped and held-down. There are restraints around her ankles, her waist even.

And then it occurs to her, the whole room is bathed in red.

Red sun emulators.

What?

Why?

There is a familiar buzzing in her ears, too. Tinny. Painful.

Kryptonite.

“Alex,” she croaks.

Her sister is standing stiffly at the far end of the bed (if you can even call this piece of metal a bed.). Her lips set in a thin line. There are dark bags under her eyes. Kara feels like shit. But Alex, Alex looks like shit.

“W-what’s happening? Wha- why am I—”

Rao, even her mouth feels disgusting.

“Wha-what happened?”

******

Game night comes early. It’s only the middle of the week, but everyone had decided to camp out at Kara’s living room floor after her kidnapping and mini-coma adventure just last night. So, Wednesday game night it is.

Everything is warm and good, Kara thinks, as she hums contently under her breath.

She’s filled with potstickers and wine. Her head on Alex’s lap, her sock-clad feet and calf being massaged by Lena on the opposite end. Nia is laughing loudly at something Kelly said, and Kara lets herself melt against the couch cushions.

“Darling,” Lena says, tapping a hand on her thigh. Kara looks at her, sees her gesturing at her empty glass, and promptly removes her legs off of her lap.

Alex’s fingers stop running through her scalp, as she reaches across to hand Lena her wine glass, too.

“Hey, Luthor, can you also-”

Everything goes black.

******

It happens so fast.

Alex was just deciding whether or not to switch from wine to brandy, when Kara lunges straight for Lena.

J’onn instantly transforms into Martian form at the commotion, and Alex is still sitting there; stunned, wine glass still clutched by the stem, as she watches Kara pin Lena to the floor, as she hears Lena shriek, as the room bursts into action.

Alex sees the glow of Kara’s eyelids, and it sparks her into action. She jumps from the couch and latches onto Kara’s back.

Her hands press into her sister’s eyes and immediately she can feel the heat filter through her skin. “J’onn!!” she shouts, Alex manages to pull Kara off of Lena, as J’onn grabs the brunette to safety.

Kara growls, stands up with Alex clinging. Kara grabs her, flips her over. She crashes on the floor with a sickening thud. Kelly gasps out her name. From here, she can see how Nia has wrapped her girlfriend and Lena into a bubble of forcefield.

Just as Kara is about to turn around and head for Lena, J’onn flies straight at her, grabs her sister by the arm, and crashes into Kara’s TV. J’onn manages to wrestle her into his grip, and he flies them out through Kara’s window.

Brainy picks her up from the floor. Her heart is beating so fast in her chest. How did she miss this? What has gotten into Kara?

Alex is panicking, all of them are panicking really.

What the fuck just happened?

“Brainy,” Alex says, voice firm, the cloudiness from the alcohol finally clearing. “Get the Legion ship, we need to track down Kara and J’onn. Disperse Kryptonite on sight. We have to detain her.”

Alex looks around the room, Nia retracts her forcefield, Kelly goes straight for her.

“Go,” Kelly says, “I’ll take care of the neighbors, I’ll take care of the mess here. Go. Find Kara.”

“I’ll stay with her,” Nia pipes up and Alex gives her a stiff nod.

She looks at Lena, red marks already blossoming on her neck.

“Are you o-”

“Do not ask me that.” Lena warns. “Now, let’s go. I’m coming with you.”

******

“You’re in the Legion ship,” Alex tells her sister, “what’s the last thing you remember?”

The base of her skull throbs with pain. “I-I don’t- I can’t remember. Ugh. Alex, can you- can you turn down the Kryptonite? Please, please?”

“I can’t, Kara. I’m sorry, please. I can’t-”

“Why?” Kara rasps out, her eyes closing shut.

“I need you to listen to me, Kara,” her sister says, she hears her stepping closer. “I need you to keep calm when I tell you.”

Kara’s heart beats faster, skin crawling at every awful thought curling from the depths of her mind.

“I-I’m calm. I’ll keep calm,” she promises, “please, Alex. Please, tell me.”

“CADMUS did something to you, Kara.”

******

Kara’s going to be sick.

She hurt Lena. Oh, Rao, she hurt Lena.

“Kara, Kara, listen to me.” Alex’s voice is distant, far-away. “Lena is fine. She’s fine. It wasn’t your fault.”

But it was her fault. She hurt her, her hands wrapped around Lena’s fragile human neck, and she almost lasered two holes into her pretty skull.

Oh, Rao. She almost killed her.

“Don’t let her near me,” she instructs, voice firm but eyes flashing with unshed tears.

“Kara, no. I don’t think she—”

“No. No, Alex, listen to me,” she urges her sister.

“Keep her away from me.”

*****

There are wires connected to her temple and her spine.

Brainy is sitting next to her bed, typing away on a little screen in front of him.

Her hippocampus and most of her somatic nervous system were experimented on, it seems. It was Kelly who cracked it, they tell her.

Kara’s brain was reconditioned in the short amount of time she spent in that CADMUS facility. A code word implanted to trigger her.

Luthor.

What a cruel joke.

*****

The next time Kara wakes, she is warm.

So warm, and-

Not alone.

She gasps loud. Lena is here. Lena is tucked to her side. Her breaths tickling Kara’s collarbone.

Lena is not supposed to be here.

Kara’s squirming seems to rouse her.

“Mmmm, stop thinking so loud, 'm trying to sleep.”

“Lena—” Her voice is bordering on hysterical.

“Shhhhh.” Lena shifts, ignoring Kara’s racing heart, ignoring Kara’s protests, just presses closer to her, lips kissing her collarbone.

“Nothing could ever keep me away from you, y'know," she slurs sleepily, "not even you, Kara Zor-El.”

Lena’s eyes are still closed, and Rao, Kara doesn’t even remember the last time she saw her like this. So pretty, so peaceful, so relaxed.

“Lena, you’re not supposed to be here. It’s not safe. Please, listen to me.”

Tears fall down from Kara’s cheek onto Lena’s skin. The contact seems to finally wake Lena.

“Oh, oh, darling,” she coos, hands coming up to cup Kara’s face. The blonde leans into the touch, presses her lips to Lena's palm, uses the touch to stifle her sobs.

“You’re not going to hurt me, Kara. You’re not,” Lena tells her, resolute and so full of trust.

Kara can still see the marks on Lena’s neck where her fingers have dug into her skin, and this time a sob breaks free from her throat.

“Lena, I could hurt you, please. Please, leave now.”

“Oh, Kara,” Lena murmurs, “you know I could never do that.”

Why is she so effin stubborn?

“I’m not scared of you, you know?” Lena whispers. She hooks a finger under Kara’s chin, “Look at me, look at me, Kara. I am not afraid of you. I am not going to leave you. I will never leave you.”

“You don’t understand. Lena, I hurt you.”

“No,” Lena answers her, “no, you did not hurt me. They made you hurt me. That wasn’t you, Kara. You will never hurt me.”

“No,” Kara echoes, voice breaking, eyes shining, “no, I would never hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I know, baby, I know.” Lena wipes the tears flowing on her cheeks, kisses them away. “We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

“Nothing can keep me away from you, you hear me?” Lena tells her, and all Kara can do is nod silently, sniffling. Lena presses a soft kiss to her lips and lets Kara break apart in her arms.

#do i think this fic is a disaster?#yes yes i do.#but im still gonna post it cos duh.#hopefully tomorrow's prompt will be better #AND HOPEFULLY IT'LL BE FLUFFY.#self can u please stop with the angst now?#supercorptober 2021 #the reckless writer writes #a supercorp ficlet of sorts #if u see a typo no u didnt

427 notes · View notes

toasterdrake · 3 years

Text

Zvezdnyy

Yelena Belova x gn!Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Genre: Fluff

anon requested: "Can you do a yelena one where Yelena is touch starved but readers love language is touch so they work together and one day they snuggle for the first time? thx"

⭐⭐⭐

Humans are wired to be touched. From birth until the day we die, our need for physical contact persists. It drives our emotional connections, our physical health.

It is one of those beautiful poetic moments that inspire us to keep living through all the hardship.

Yelena, however, had experienced little to no touch since she was a young child.

Her time with Alexei, Melina and Natasha had been the only memorable time in her life that wasn't cold. As the three years progressed, and she grew, so did their attachment to her. Alexei loved fawning over the little blonde, and even Melina had to admit she was cute.

In early life, touch is crucial for building healthy relationships. Missing out on regular human touch can have serious and long-lasting effects.

Melina, ever the scientist, was well aware of this, and tried her best, but Alexei was more comfortable giving the kids what they wanted. Piggyback rides with Papa were a popular form of transport in the Vostokoff-Shostakov household.

However, Yelena's eventual line of work, away from her parents and her sister, didn't exactly make a habit of hugs or holding hands. This inevitably resulted in touch starvation in the young Widow.

The feeling was deeply rooted in Yelena's psyche. It was a lusting hunger; a primal need from within, clawing up her throat. But her training kept it constantly tamped down, insisting it be ignored in favour of the mission. She was never allowed to understand this burning, lonely desire.

After Oksana and Natasha, it grew from a mild heat to a raging fire. Every brushing of skin ignited something in her fingertips, like hot electricity attracting her to beg for more.

What that 'more' was, she couldn't figure out. Not until you.

You were a very touchy person. You had loving, attentive parents that encouraged physical displays of affection all your life. Of course, they had their faults, and no parenting technique is perfect, but the frequent gentle touches had raised you to find comfort in contact.

You'd grown up a hugger, in a word, and all your friends were well aware of it. If they thought they could avoid you being attached to their sides, clambering over them, or resting your feet in their laps whenever they were in your vicinity, they thought wrong.

Yelena was the exception.

Not in a hateful way; very much the opposite, actually. In such a way that you paid extra attention to how she acted and reacted. In such a way that you noticed when she flinched or froze up under your touch. In such a way that you withdrew your friendly touches because you weren't blind.

Yelena was also the exception in the way she was more than a friend.

Your relationship was still new, and you were scared to be asking too much from her. You were still adjusting to each other, learning how to be together, learning what you wanted from the other and how to give what they wanted.

And the more you withdrew, the more Yelena began to tentatively want it, you, your touch, back.

Even in her relationship with you, Yelena couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly lonely. Not because you weren't paying her attention, affection: you still showed that in different ways. But you were right there, next to her… and yet you weren't close enough. The blanket you were both wrapped in wasn't enough; you were.

But she didn't know how to ask. So instead, she slipped away from you, leaving you to doze, and took a long, hot bath.

She curled up alone in bed that night, cold, guilt clawing at her throat and churning in her stomach. Fanny tucked herself into Yelena's side, golden fur tangling in her fingers. Fanny's warmth still wasn't enough. Fanny wasn't you.

She was only able to fall asleep after you had stumbled into bed beside her hours later. You weren't even sharing a room yet. You wanted to be close to her as much as she did you.

You were simply better versed in expressing that desire.

You wanted to show Yelena your affection for her the way you knew how. And you decided to make that known.

You scooted a little closer every time you sat together, little by little by little, eyes trained on the movie playing. You leaned into her when she helped you cook, stretching over her to grab something, trailing a hand on her waist when you leaned away so that the contact was never broken. You slipped your hand into hers while waiting for a ride to collect you both.

You were careful not to cross any boundaries, though, adjusting accordingly when Yelena subtly distanced herself.

Slowly, she began to accept your advances.

"[Y/N]? [Y/N]?"

"Wha- what?" You wake up, trying to blink away the blurriness of your vision to get a clearer view of the figure leaning over you.

Yelena shifts awkwardly, fiddling with the corner of your covers. "I can't sleep." She admits shyly.

Something, you're not sure what in your half-asleep state, but something, clicks in you. You shuffle over to make room, opening your arms to her, and she readily crawls under the sheets.

You lay on your back, looking at her across the bed for a long few moments. There's that closeness again; that not-quite-close-enough closeness; that simmering, bubbling heat.

You clear your throat, wincing at how abrupt it is in the dark and quiet room, at how sharply it makes Yelena snap her gaze to you. You open your arms again, silent invitation in your eyes.

Yelena shifts forward, tentatively curling into your side. Soft, pyjama-clad skin glides over yours like velvet, until the warmth of her settles pressed into you.

Slow and steady, you wrap an arm around her waist, firm enough to remind her that you are there. Your fingers splay over her stomach, drawing abstract patterns.

She rests her head on your chest. Your heartbeat is calm and strong. She matches her breathing to it, looking through the darkness out the window at the blanket of stars.

"Do any of them catch your fancy?" You ask. She can feel your gaze following hers, your fingertips floating lazily.

She points at a small star just coming into view from behind a drifting cloud. It's light is weaker than the others, twinkling faintly among the diamond glitters.

"I bet it wants to learn how to shine brighter," You begin softly. Yelena snorts, but doesn't stop you.

"It's packing up its possessions; a picture of its beloved sister, its famous iced coffee technique;" Yelena buries a giggle in the crook of your neck, then peeks back out at her star. "And it's setting out to visit it's aunt, who lives on the other side of the galaxy. She's one of the brightest... Nebulaway stars, so she'll surely be able to teach it how to shine.

Along the path, it meets another star. They shine even brighter than it's aunt, so it asks them to teach it. They say, 'shining isn't something you can learn... Shining comes to you naturally when the time is right. That time is different for everyone'. The dull little star doesn't feel this is helpful at all, so it carries on and leaves them behind. Further up the road, it meets another star."

Your story is interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn, tears springing to your eyes. You blink them away and continue. "This star asks if it has any spare iced coffee, since he ran out. The dull little star -- y'know what, let's call him Jeffrey," Yelena's laugh evolves into her own yawn. "Jeffrey gives him the last of it's coffee.

He says 'this is the best iced coffee I've ever had. What's the difference? Is it your brand? Do you use... Milky too?' Jeffrey shows him, and it turns out the ingredients are the same." Yelena half-heartedly provides a shocked gasp. "Jeffrey teaches him its technique. He carries on the path much happier with his new flask of iced coffee.

Jeffrey carries on, and now notices the dark path it had been following to reach Nebulaway is now illuminated. It looks around, but doesn't see any other stars. It is the only star here on the path, and the light radiates around it."

You pause again, this time for thought. You look down, and notice Yelena's eyes are closed. She breathes steadily, deeply, an arm around your waist and head settled on your shoulder. Her warm, sweet breath fans over your collarbone.

You smile, pressing a kiss to her head as your own heavy eyelids fall gratefully shut.

⭐⭐⭐

Taglist: @starryparchments @themagnificentmx @bisexual-chupacabra

love,

- Lynx

#yelena belova #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova fluff #marvel imagine #lynx writes

480 notes · View notes

alcinadimitrescuwu · 3 years

Text

This Woman's Work Part IX (Alcina x Female Reader Fanfic)

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII

“You’re almost there, Maman. You’re doing great. Just a couple more steps.”

You take a deep breath in through your nose and blow it out through your mouth and push forward at your daughter’s coaxing, your arms gripping the railing that had been set up in your bedroom. The wound in your side is in agony but you take another step, biting the inside of your cheek hard to keep from crying out in pain.

It has been three weeks since that horrible night. You had already lost a lot of blood by the time Karl and Alcina arrived at Donna’s place. In an incredible stroke of luck, Donna had surgical thread in her sewing kit and at Salvatore’s instructions (he was having one of his good days) sewed up the place where Alcina’s claws had torn through. You were in and out of consciousness, but every time you opened your eyes Alcina was there by your side holding your hand.

Alcina is sitting nearby in her chair now, gently burping Ecaterina after her feeding. She looks up at you and you see concern in her golden eyes and another emotion that has been a mainstay for the past couple weeks: guilt.

Things had been...awkward between the two of you since that night. No matter how many times you assured her that all was well and you had forgiven her, she refused to forgive herself. You had only been intimate one time since that night and it ended quickly after Alcina had forgotten about the wound in your side as she cupped your hip and you couldn’t hold back the scream of pain that came out of your mouth. Alcina had immediately gotten out of the bed and as far away from you as she could, as if afraid touching you would cause any more damage.

She had sunk into the chair and began sobbing brokenly. You had wished to go to her, but your Bath chair was already on the other side of the room. You braced yourself against one of the bedposts as you said gently, “Darling, it was an accident. The pain’s already subsiding. Please come back to bed.”

Alcina covered her face with her hands, but you could see the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I can’t even make love to my wife without causing her pain. What kind of wife does that make me?” The raw self-hatred in her voice broke your heart.

From that point on whenever you had settled down for the night, Alcina kissed your forehead and turned out the light and that was the end of it. She kept to her own side of the bed and you greatly missed the feeling of her muscular arms about you with your shoulder tucked under her chin, her curls kissing your cheekbones.You had the sense that if you tried to move closer she would move away so you didn’t even try.

You try to take another step and suddenly the room spins around you and you fall forward. Daniela, however, quickly grabs your arm and puts her arm around your shoulder before you hit the ground.

“I think that should be enough for today, Maman,” Bela says soothingly.

You set your jaw. You only have three more steps to go before you clear the railing. “No, girls, I can keep going.” But your ragged breathing and forehead shining with sweat give you away. You push your tongue to the inside of your cheek and taste coppery blood from where you had bitten into it.

Cassandra rolls your Bath chair over to you. “Maman, you don’t need to push yourself so hard. You’re not gonna be of any use to Ecaterina if you run yourself ragged.”

You smile at Cassandra’s brutal honesty as she helps you into your Bath chair. “You’re right, dearest.”

Alcina stands up, having finished burping Ecaterina. She looks affectionately over at her daughters taking care of you and you see one of the first genuine smiles from her that you’ve seen in weeks. “You’ve been so good to Maman these past few weeks, dears. She and I really appreciate all the help you’ve given to us and Ecaterina.” She rests the hand not holding Ecaterina on the back of your chair and you take her hand in yours, kissing her knuckles. Surprisingly, she doesn’t pull away this time. “It’s time for us to put Ecaterina down for her nap and for me to change Maman’s bandages. If you’ll excuse us, loves.”

The girls nod in agreement and vanish into their bug shrouds. Alcina turns around and settles Ecaterina into her cradle. Ecaterina gurgles, her eyes mirroring the gold in Alcina’s. Alcina gives her a tender kiss on the forehead before turning to you. She motions for you to stand up and you obey as she kneels down to your level and helps you take off your day dress. Standing there in your slip with her hands on you reminds you of how long it has been since you have last felt her touch.

Alcina lifts up your slip ever so lightly and peels off the gauze bandage wrapped around your waist. Alcina sets her jaw as she uncovers the gashes she herself had inflicted on you. She takes off her gloves, dips the pad of her thumb in a jar of salve and applies it to your wounds. There is an unreadable expression on her face.

You try to give her an encouraging smile. “I talked to Sal the other day,” you posit. “He says that even though the wound is deep,if I don’t expose it to too much sunlight it won’t leave a scar!”

“Not a physical one at least,” Alcina mutters.

Ok. You’ve had enough. You turn her head to face you. “Darling, we’ve been over this,” you say, rubbing her cheekbone with the pad of your thumb. “Are you going to keep punishing yourself forever?”

Almost despite herself, Alcina leans into your touch and interlaces her large fingers with yours. “I can’t imagine how much physical pain you must be in, my love,” Alcina whispers. “And all by my hand.” Tears begin forming in Alcina’s aureate eyes. “I nearly killed you.”

“You didn’t though, Alcina!” You move over to her lap and she gently almost tentatively wraps her arms around you and holds you close. You lean your head against her chest and resist the urge to sigh. It’s been so long since you’ve been held by your wife. “I know you were under Miranda’s control but something held you back from killing me outright. I know it.”

“You don’t know what it’s like being under someone else’s control.” You can almost feel Alcina’s body shudder as she recalls that night. “It was like I was outside my body watching myself. I was screaming at myself to stop when I kissed that woman.” The memory of your wife kissing Mother Miranda so passionately pops into your mind briefly but you shut it out as she goes on. “And when I stabbed you, I-” Her voice cracks. “I was practically begging myself to stop but my body just moved on its own.”

“Don’t you see, then, darling?” you ask. “You weren’t yourself when you were under Mother Miranda’s control. The person that kissed Mother Miranda, the person that stabbed me, that wasn’t you, so please.” You cradle Alcina’s face in your hands and stare into those beautiful discs of gold. “Please stop blaming yourself for this. Mother Miranda is dead. I’m alive. Our daughter is safe and healthy. That’s what matters now.”

Alcina kisses your forehead lovingly. “When did you get so wise?” she asks, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. You can see that you’ve finally gotten through to her. Her body posture is more relaxed, her jaw is loose, and her shoulders aren’t so tight. She carefully places the new bandage over your wound and you feel a pleasant tingle as you feel her bare fingers brush briefly over your tender skin.

She moves to pull your slip over your new bandage but you take her wrist before she can withdraw it. You hold her gaze as you take the strap of your slip off your shoulder and your slip coils in a pool of silk around your ankles. She takes you in her arms and brushes her lips against yours briefly. When she pulls aways, you see the same desire in her eyes. “Are you quite sure, ingeras?” Alcina asks, brushing the back of her knuckles against your cheekbones.

“Yes” you rasp. “Take me to the bed.”

Alcina picks you up as you wrap your legs around her waist, taking care not to touch your sensitive wound and carries you over to the bed. She gently, almost reverently lays you down on the bed. She lowers herself down to kiss you again and you bury your fingers in her curls. Alcina deepens the kiss, her tongue coaxing your mouth open as you unfasten the pearl buttons on the back of her dress. “I’ll go slow for you, draga,” Alcina murmurs against your lips.

“Alright, let’s see how our little patient is doing today- JESUS CHRIST! What the FUCK?”

It seems like Heisenberg has decided to check up on you today.

With a frustrated growl Alcina moves quickly in front of you while holding her own dress up. “Yes, Heisenberg, that is in fact what we were setting out to do before you arrived.” Alcina shakes her head at him derisively. “You seem to have impeccably bad timing, as always.”

Heisenberg’s face is beet red again, you note with amusement. “Well, excuse me for trying to check in on my sister-in-law and my goddaughter! Speaking of which, really Alcina? Getting down and dirty with the kid in the room?”

Alcina’s cheeks are also sporting a lovely red color. “Ecaterina was asleep.” Amidst all the commotion, Ecaterina has already woken up and is crying. “Well, she was until you came in.”

The girls suddenly materialize into the room. “Mother!” Cassandra chirps. “I thought I heard Uncle Karl in here and- JESUS CHRIST! What the FUCK!”

Alcina covers her face with her hands. Bela takes the book that Daniela is holding and holds it so it’s covering the image of you and your wife on the bed. “Really Mother,” Bela tuts to herself.

Daniela doesn’t seem to mind. She turns to the two of you, unperturbed by the state of your undress and asks, “Can Uncle Karl stay for dinner, Mother, Maman? Please? It’s been so long since we’ve all had dinner together!”

You smile indulgently at her over Alcina’s shoulder. “Of course he can, darling,” you say.

“Fine,” Alcina mutters. "Now if you please, will all of you kindly get out of our room?”

The daughters vanish into the bug shrouds, chattering excitedly about what Cook is making for dinner. Heisenberg leaves too, chuckling softly to himself.

You turn to your blushing bride and give her a chaste kiss on the lips before you both get dressed and join your daughters for dinner.

Together. As a family.

#alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina x maiden #alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #re8 fanfiction #re8 fanfic #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #karl heisenberg #mother miranda #re8 village #alcina x female reader #lady dimitrescu x maiden

268 notes · View notes