#fae x female character

[the-iceni-bitch]

𝕳𝖊 𝕽𝖚𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕬𝖎𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕿𝖞𝖗𝖓𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖘

𝙵𝚊𝚎 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚁𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚖 𝙳𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚕𝚎

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚢 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕.

𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 ~ 𝙰 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜.

𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 ~ 𝙰 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛, 𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎.

𝙲𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚍, 𝚖𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍.

Relationship: fae!Ransom Drysdale x captive!fem reader

Words: ~1.6k

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (public sex, fingering, spanking, mention of oral sex and unprotected vaginal sex), mind control, mean!Ransom, SMUT! 18+ ONLY

A/N: ooooooh I love him. Enjoy you guys!

Ransom leaned back on his throne as the human king in front of him droned on and on, sighing deeply as he swirled his golden wine on its goblet and watched it catch the light.

Gods but these humans with all their problems were boring. Always with their meager excuses why they couldn’t pay their dues to the high fae king. It was too cold for crops. The cows weren’t producing milk. The rivers were frozen and halted trade. Blah blah blah blah blah.

At least his throne was comfortable. More of a chaise than a throne, with gilded legs and arms worked into intricate patterns and piled with cushions of silk and velvet. The wine was excellent as well, and the fruits brought to him by the servants were succulent and ripe. It all would have been very nice if it weren’t for the incessant whinging of the man in front of him.

There was only one thing that could cure his boredom.

“I do not care how supposedly terrible the winter was, you have responsibilities to me and to your people. If you cannot pay with gold or crops, I will have to take my dues in some other way,” Ransom held up a finger to silence the lesser king when he opened his mouth again, turning to one of the lower fae who made up his court and grinning wickedly. “Bring me my kitten.”

“What else could you possibly want?” The human king looked angry, clenching and unclenching his fists as he watched the fairy king rest on his rich throne and enjoy the fruits of the lands of always summer. It was an affront that he required payment for the protection of the human lands when he was enjoying such wealth. “I have nothing else to offer, I…”

The words froze in his throat when the door to the throne room opened, all the blood draining from his face and terror taking him when he caught sight of you.

It was supposed to just be a rumor, that the fae would take your firstborn if you couldn’t fulfill your oaths. But here you were, a former crown princess being led on a gilded leash as she prowled on all fours towards the fairy king. You wore nothing but a golden collar and soft kitten ears, and the human king felt his stomach churn when he saw a matching tail that could only possibly be held in place in a certain way. He couldn’t decide whether he should look away or not, this was the most obscene display he had ever witnessed.

“There’s my precious little kitten,” Ransom beamed when your eyes lit up at the sight of him, taking your leash from his courtier and patting his thrones until you hopped up onto it and stretched out in front of him. “That’s my good princess, did you have a lovely bath?”

“Mmhm,” You arched your back and purred when he gently traced his long fingers along your jaw, whining softly when they began to drag down your throat. “Nice and clean for you, Daddy.”

“I can tell, kitten,” Ransom chuckled when you let him slip his other hand between your thighs, spreading them wide so your pussy was on display for his entire court. “Clean and already wet, my eager little girl. Ah ah, you fucking look at her,” He scolded the human king when he started to look away as Ransom began to pet your quivering cunt, kissing the top of your head and sliding the hand on your throat lower so he could fondle your breasts. “She enjoys being shown off so you watch. And stop looking so concerned, she loves this. She’s spoiled rotten, doesn’t even remember her old life or her family unless I lift the hold I have on her mind. You’re happy, aren’t you, kitten?”

“Mmm, yes Daddy,” You squeaked and writhed against him when he tweaked one of your nipples, your pussy gushing all over his fingers when he gave it a gentle pat before he started to pet you again. “Can I have cream? Oh please, Daddy?”

“Later, little one, I’ll give you more cream than you can swallow,” Ransom’s smile grew even more cruel when the human king gagged at that, rubbing your pussy faster until you choked on your purrs. “My sweet, stupid little thing.”

You mewed and looked over your shoulder at him with widened eyes, panting when he squeezed your breast and spreading your legs even wider for him. The expression on your face was one of pure love and adoration. The fairy king was your whole world. Every second you were apart from him was pure torment, and every second you were with him was pure bliss. Your body responded to him like it did to nothing else, only he knew how to touch you and work you up until you could think of nothing but the unimaginable pleasure that would rage through your body.

Ransom could tell you were starting to lose it, his gaze shifting between you and the uncomfortable human king as he drew you towards your peak. He was enjoying the way both of you were squirming, you with ecstasy and the king with disgust. Showing you off to his court was thrilling enough, but he truly enjoyed using you to show his dominion over his human subjects. They all thought they could get away with whatever they wanted, but you were proof that they never would.

He smacked your clit and cooed at you when you came apart for him, kissing your cheek gently and making sure the lesser king was watching while your pussy fluttered and gushed all over the throne. You whimpered and sucked on your bottom lip when he asked you if you wanted more, letting him turn you onto your stomach and slip his thumb into your mouth while your eyes drifted closed. Ransom stroked your back a few times before he began to give you soft, quick spanks, taking a rest every few slaps to rub your pussy or gently tug on your tail plug. His gaze never left the human king though, chuckling along with the rest of his court when the man turned bright red at having to continue to witness your humiliation.

“Such anger in you humans,” Ransom hushed you when you whined as one of his spanks landed directly on your sensitive pussy. “Before I laid my web over her mind my little kitten was angry too, now look at how happy she is,” he finished spanking you and slowly pushed two of his fingers inside you, smiling when you clenched around him immediately before starting to slowly fuck you with them. “Imagine how happy your son will be once he becomes my puppy. Would you like a playmate, pretty kitten?”

The kings horrified grunt was drowned out by your mewl of assent, your back arching as you pushed your hips into the air so he could have all the access he needed. You would do anything he asked of you, sucking harder on his thumb as he slid a third finger inside you to stretch you even wider. Ransom cocked his head when the king started to tremble with rage, feeling the energy coming off the man and shivering at the pleasure he derived from eliciting such a reaction. He couldn’t resist the urge to rile him up even further.

“Just think how lovely your son will look with his own little tail. I think I’ll have him fuck my little kitten for the court’s amusement, what a pretty sight that would be,” the king looked as if he was thinking of killing Ransom, as if he could harm him in any way. “And once he’s filled her tiny cunt and worn her out he can suck my cock like a good boy. He’ll sleep at the foot of my bed and fetch my slippers just like a loyal dog should.”

“Stop,” the thought of his son being subjected to such degradation made him want to be sick, but he couldn’t let his people starve either. “Stop this. I will kill you if you touch my son.”

“Are you going to keep your oaths to me then?” A fourth finger pushed inside you and you sobbed around Ransom’s thumb, drooling all over his hand and yourself while you squirted in your climax. “Because the only other option you have is to give up my protection. You should ask my kitten’s father how that went for him, how much of his kingdom was lost to those barbarian goblins before he finally let me take her from him so I would drive them back, how many of his subjects children were taken by the wisps and sprites before I secured the border between our realms. I will give you until sunset on the morrow to make your decision, leave me now.”

Ransom drew you into his lap after pulling his hand out of your fluttering pussy, kissing your nose and telling you how beautiful you were as his guards escorted the beleaguered king from his hall. He already knew what the man’s answer would be, and he looked forward to fitting his son with a jeweled collar and watching you welcome his new pet.

[ghouljams]

The Price of Fire(Prologue) Rating: M Tags: John Price x oc, 3rd person POV, fae au, witch oc, fae!Price, first meeting, slow burn Summary: Lio is a young witch. Young, not stupid. She's made it this long without being eaten, and she intends to make it longer. Until she meets a man deep in a cold, silent, forest. He's handsome, and all the more dangerous for it.

Lio marks nearly two decades of life without meeting a witch-eater. She’s heard stories from her mother, has seen the fae all her life, but to actually meet one? No. Precautions are taken and kept: faerie circles are avoided, the path is followed, and wards are drawn on her skin in charcoal ink. Lio knows better than anyone where the forest meets the fae wild and she skirts that invisible barrier with each step. Every trip into the forest is a risk, so every interaction with the fae must be closely monitored. Too many witches meet their end to hunters with honey on their tongues.

But the forest must be braved, witch-eaters or no, and Lio finds herself forced deeper and deeper into it as the winter creeps along. Winter is a time of sickness. A busy time for witches. Ingredients for spells and potions grow in the dark recesses of the wood, and no amount of hoping will coax them closer to the forest edge. 

There are no birds or bugs to guide Lio as she weaves her way through the trees. Silence the best marker for how deep into the forest she’s traveled. It’s snowed recently and the branches of the trees hang heavy with their winter burden. Red curls frizz out from under the witch’s hat breaking up with stark whiteness, a spot of fire in the winter chill. Lio’s feet crunch through the thick snow, she follows deer trails, keeping track of broken branches and tracks. The deer know where it’s safe to travel, even if they can’t tell her why. She trusts that she’s on the right path. 

There’s a crispness in the air that almost chokes her lungs when she tries to draw too deep a breath, ice ruling even the oxygen that fills her lungs. It’s the warmest part of the day, and still Lio cups her fingers over her mouth to warm them. Her gloves do just enough to keep the wintery chill at bay as she breaks branches off of trees and tucks them under her arm. She stops occasionally, following her mental path, tracking the deer, winding through the tree trunks, stopping when she pleases, and collecting wood as she goes. Her hatchet weighs heavy on her belt, hardly touched.

As she walks the forest grows darker, the trees crowd closer together. She murmurs a quiet spell, the charms in her boots heating up to keep the cold from chewing through her toes. Lio stops to check her trail, her head turning this way and that, watching her tracks weave through the forest. The line of steps is straight, the forest hasn’t turned her around yet. Still, it’s getting quieter. The leaves don’t rustle the same here, the breeze dying among the trees as easily as the animals do.

Lio walks past a man leaned against one of the tree trunks. She ignores him, and continues her walk forward. In her periphery she sees him side step around the wood only to reappear ahead. He raises a brow questioningly when she stops short. Lio glances around the forest, blinking once, twice, and a third, before settling her eyes back on him.

It takes a moment to adjust her sight to the fae. Her magic draws the veil back from her eyes as they take in the man before her. The heavy black wings, feathers dragging through snow and the protruding horns from his forehead speak to what he is. Though even if she couldn’t see him, she’d know he wasn’t human. There’s something in his eyes, a golden ring around the blue that speaks to magic. His beard is too neatly kept, his smile too generous, he’s handsome in a way that she’s never seen. Dark and dangerously alluring. 

He takes a step towards her and her fingers tighten on her bundle. The young witch takes a step back. Witch-eater, her mother’s voice whispers in her mind. Charming fae whose only goal is to increase their magic, eager to eat up any witches foolish enough to fall for their honeyed words. Despite the chill that runs through her blood at meeting him, Lio smiles, polite in the face of a danger. There are rules for these sorts of things. Rules that have been pounded into her head until she knew them in her dreams.

“You’re far from the trail,” The fae man says bluntly, inviting conversation. Lio hums, she knows, she can see the lights of the willowwisp starting to drift between the trees. She’s taken a step too far into the wild, her home forest bleeding into the faerie’s realm. She’d noticed the trees growing bigger, but hoped she still had some time before running into anything.

“I am?” Lio feigns ignorance, “I hadn’t noticed.”

The man turns to look away from her, smiles to himself at her lie. She can see the way his tongue moves over his teeth while he thinks, even with the wire of his beard in the way. His eyes are as icy as the winter snow when he looks at her again.

“It’s dangerous this deep in the forest,” He tells her. As if she doesn’t know. As if he doesn’t know she knows.

“I’m quite alright,” Lio responds, starting on her trail again. She intends to pass him, but he catches her arm, and hauls her to a stop.

“If you’re smart,” He warns, “you’ll run home, little witch.”

Lio stares at the hand gripping her arm, the black soot that sticks around his nails, she wonders if he was tending a fire nearby. Tipping her head Lio meets his gaze, she’s young, but not stupid. At least, not quite so stupid as this man thinks.

“I’m being careful.”

“You’re being foolish.”

The man’s grip on her tightens, and he turns her to follow the trail back. The trees straighten Lio’s winding path, the forest bending not to her will, but to his. She looks at the man again, there’s a tightness in his jaw that makes her think he’s holding something back. His eyes burn as they stare into hers. He smells like blood. She raises a brow at him, ever too eager to poke sleeping bears. The rumble in his voice is worth it when he tells her:

“If you’re fool enough to wander this far into the forest, you’re fool enough to be eaten.” A harsh squeeze to her arm as she glares at him is followed by his deep, “Run along.”

“If I’m foolish enough to be eaten, you’re a fool to turn me around,” She turns back, takes her first step back down the path and feels his hold on her loosen. Something unwinds in her chest as his fingers drop from her arm, some tension she’d been ignoring slipping free. Lio takes her first full breath in as many minutes and feels the sting of ice in her lungs.

“Maybe.”

His low rumble makes her pause, the hair on her arms standing on end at the chill in his voice. He wouldn’t eat her now would he? Lio raises a gloved hand to her chest, her fingers feeling for any threads between the two of them. Nothing. She hasn’t misspoken, hasn’t fallen into any traps, she wonders why he’s letting her go. There’s nothing stopping him from eating her, from tearing apart her flesh like an animal.

“Thank you, for the advice” Lio tosses it over her shoulder, baiting the man, “I’ll try to remember it for next time.”

Again her arm is caught, and she’s dragged back. Her back bumps against the fae’s sturdy chest, she softens her breathing, pushes down panic. There are wards sewn into her clothes, written over her skin, she’s protected. At least from magic. She can only hope that his teeth, his fingers, are less willing to do the dirty work. The strength of him- she can’t compare to it. If she tried to run, would the path twist under her feet? She doesn’t hold the forest’s reins like he does, can’t direct it as expertly as the fae. She’s barely come into her magic and now she’s going to be eaten.

The man leans over her, drags his hand down her arm to hold her wrist. He raises it, his fingers pressing to her pulse as he inspects the seal on her gloves. Small magic, she tells herself. Nothing that would interest the fae, certainly nothing that would interest one like this.

“And if I decide to cash in your thanks?” The man asks. His voice is too low, too quiet, it splits through the silence of the forest, the chill of his breath skirting her cheek. Lio steels herself for the pain as she speaks, unsure if he means it as a threat or something else.

“You won’t.”

“I might.” There’s a smile in his voice, one that makes her smile in turn. Relief slips down her spine. 

“Any fae that would make a witch turn around isn’t one that would cash in a favor so small.” Still, Lio feels the soft sting of her thanks tethering them to each other, a debt to be repaid. Small but present.

“I could say I saved your life.”

“But you won’t.”

“No,” The fae agrees, “I won’t.”

His release is soft. His hands relax and drop their hold on her, letting Lio take a few steps forwards. She wastes no time looking back, following her footprints back through the forest towards home. It’s a lucky thing to meet the fae and come away without a scratch. Luck she isn’t going to waste on something silly like ‘goodbye.’

Price watches the witch pick her way back through the forest. There’s no fear, no hesitation, in her steps. There hadn’t been any on her skin either, and no fluttering pulse or short breaths. What an interesting woman. Her eyes were so clear, staring right through him. A seer, he thinks to himself, so she must be used to these sorts of sights. He feels a pang of interest, ill-advised curiosity, bubbling in his chest. There was something about her.

She was warm.

For the first time Price shivers against the cold of the winter forest. The heat which had been pressed into his chest disappears with the witch. The season wraps its tendrils around him, bringing him back into the familiar chill. The trees shake off their snowy burdens, filling in the holes left by the witch’s feet, holes which seemed to melt all the way to the dark leaf strewn dirt. Price can’t help smiling to himself. He supposes winter isn’t for everyone.

divider by @/saradika

[peachesofteal]

cool cool cool cool cool I am feeling totally normally after seeing your response to my ask and totally am not chewing on the wheel wells of my car

would you go more into detail about our silly little fae?? and would you mind if I maybe had the time to write up a lil ficlet for Soap one day??? 😗

Don't eat your car, it's tough on your teeth. 🩵 I hear human hearts make better meals... But seriously, in response to your second question, I would not mind if you wrote a little ficlet for Fae!Soap, but please tag me in it so I can read it!

For the first question (Thank you for indulging me and my insane little worlds) :

Johnny, Kyle and Price are all in the mortal world because of Simon. Because Simon is the most powerful of the lot, even though Price is the oldest (only by a couple hundred years) they all yield to his demands, if he makes them. Which he doesn't, he simply asks and because they're all practically brothers, friends for nearly their whole lives, they're happy to oblige. Besides, the mortal world can filled with fun, if you know where to look. The reason why Price isn't in the pub that night with the other three is because he's found his own trouble to get into. (And it's not a Nereid. There are other creatures that lurk in the mortal world, too.)

Simon had been disappearing for decades before they finally caught on to what was happening. He kept it incredibly close to his chest, unwilling to share his secret, his desperation for his Nereid, until it all came to a head one day, in the thick of war, and he had to leave. It was Price that followed him, confronted him on the beach where he was standing, staring silently at the waves, hours after you had slipped back beneath the water to go home. (They don’t really talk about it now but Simon would get crazy depressed every year after your hunt, sulking in the shadows of his home with the doors locked.)

Speaking of war: Faerie is massive. It's more expansive than the mortal realm, existing in a pocket of magic that is difficult to travel to unless you know the way. It has different climates, topography, geography. I envision it as like... "modernized mythology", no cars because they all use magic to travel, they have magical weapons, etc. No giant cities like the ones in the mortal realm because they just don't care for them. They're not interested in one-upping one another like lunatic mortals, they're interested in bloodsport and power. All the residents are (mostly) Fae. Full of magic that differs from one to next, millennia old bloodlines all battling for power from one century to the next. When you live forever, and you can take life with the snap of your finger, full scale war quickly becomes the answer to most questions. Gaz is actually born of one of these bloodlines, royal blood and proper titles, pomp, circumstance and all, but he shuns it. Chooses the life of a solider with his friends over a throne and a crown. Simon is from a similar bloodline, but one with a dark history, centuries of cyclical abuse that he's determined not to repeat with his own children. Price is from a very large, very well known family in a Northern Region, and is like the founder of their group. He acts as the voice of reason for all of them when their heads grow too hot. Johnny is from an Isle that holds it's own secrets...

They look different in their realm. They glamour themselves in the mortal world, hiding their ears and eye color, dulling their features as to not stand out. At home, they drop it to be themselves, pointed ears and razor sharp face lines, power oozing from every pore, their connection with the magic changing their eye color to reflect how they’re feeling emotionally. And their noses… they can smell everything. Simon can smell you miles away, can pick up on a change in your sweat, can smell the scent of your hair even if you’re on the other side of the house.

They are Fae, so let's not pretend they're particularly sweet. Certainly, they can be, and would be... to whomever they fall in love with but they're also known to be brutal, effective killers, vicious and murderous creatures who care little for the blood they spill. They’re known as the 141 in both realms, and they possess limitless potential for cruelty. Simon is feared across Faerie, just his name enough to send infantry lines of lesser soldiers running. He’s only sweet for you, protective and possessive of his huntress to a fault.

[celestialspecial]

The Rogue and the Rose

The Fae and Human world have been separate for as long as anyone can remember- and for good reason. But curiosity calls upon Billy to cross the border and follow what has been occupying his dreams and mind. Will he quench his thirst for answers or will it only lead him down a path that even he cannot escape?

Fae!Billy

Writers Notes: I hesitated to post this for a while even though its been sitting unfinished in my notes for a bit. I'm sure it wont receive as much interaction but I love the story and how it came to me one day and I intend to share it and hope that at least a few of you enjoy it <3

The barrier was there for a reason. Protection of the highest regard. To keep Fae in and humans out. Humans were unsafe. Or so they were told. One could go over the wall when the moon was full. That’s when it was safest.

Or so they were told.

Billy wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. He’d grown up in a fae town not far from the border of worlds. Cautionary tales were told like bedtime stories. Then again the orphanage wasn’t one for comfort and joy.

Years of training and practice made him a skilled warrior among his people. Talents abound and a skill set that many longed for but few attained. And yet, how much of a warrior was he truly if he still feared the mortal realm like those around him?

Fae blood could cure disease and illness in humans, for that any fae that was foolish enough to cross the border and unfortunate enough to be captured never returned. A similar fate was found amongst humans who also were dumb enough to enter into Fae.

They rarely provided actual usage to their captors besides entertainment, of all dark sorts. No, it was more of a punishment for all the wrong doings their kind had bestowed to the fae. Payback of sorts. 

It was cruel and unkind, but this was fae, and that’s how it was. Kill or be killed. Humanity and magick had gone it’s separate ways millennia ago and that’s how it stayed and what was passed down. 

The sun had begun to set, a dull amber glow filling Billy’s cottage. A humble hut, just on the outskirts of town. Close enough to get provisions when needed, but far enough that he was rarely bothered. And that’s how he liked it.

A loner by choice, but the enticement of celebrations drew him out for the occasional evening. Maybe more than occasional. He preferred to be left alone after that. Tonight however was different, after months of pondering and plotting, this full moon he’d embark on what perhaps would be his craziest move yet.

Entering the mortal world. It’d been calling to him for a while now, unsure as to why but curious nonetheless. Curiosity had been his defining childhood trait. The women at the orphanage had had to bandage him up more than a few times because of his antics.

Getting into trouble with his close friends had been his specialty and as he’d grown it hadn’t gone away, only changed. He became more quick, more calculated. His talents  were honed by the towns guard, sword fighting, archery, alchemy. 

Everything to make him deadly to anyone willing to come to their town with mischief on their mind. But serving his people was only a fraction of who he was. No he craved adventure.

And there was nothing more adventurous than the other world he’d been so heavily warned about. The dreams came to him in the deepest of the night. Visions of a town he’d never seen, filled with…humans. 

Rounded ears and people filling taverns, streets, music carrying into the night. It enchanted him in a way he’d never thought possible. But surely it was just a dream? They just kept coming.

One he was walking through the town, amongst the people bustling in the streets. In another dream he had danced along the cobblestone pathways, weaving in and out of the crowd. They no longer felt like dreams, they turned into visions, longings, cravings.

And Billy craved for nothing. All he desired he got. And he’d get this sure enough. Maybe it was just his unquenchable thirst for the unexplored that beckoned him to this new and dangerous place, maybe it was his ego wishing to be the first there and back to brag to his cohorts about what he’d seen.

Then he had another dream. 

A beautiful woman, dancing in tight circles in the darkened hall of some gathering place. Hair that shimmered in the candlelight and eyes that drank in the remaining moonlit glow from outside. A smirk upon her lips as she held out her hand to him.

“Billy-“ she softly whispered to him. Without thinking he’d extended his own hand, taking hers without question.

Then he’d woken up, morning light filling his bedroom and an intangible ache in his chest.

The gods were urging him forward, to go across the barrier and even if just for one night he’d experience what his dreams had been showing him. Sheathing a few extra blades for good measure in his leather doublet, making sure his cloak was clasped firmly at his throat.

He had his black glass dagger strapped to his thigh in case his dreams had been just that, dreams. And if anyone attempted to cross one of fae’s strongest soldiers. It would be the last thing they did. 

Blowing out the candles in his home as the last whisps of sunset fizzled in the sky, a full moon settling into a blanket of stars casting a silver glow over the gnarled path he took through the woods.

Branches and brambles stuck out, attempting to scratch at his cape and pants. Even the foliage of fae seemed to know what he was doing and begging him not to go. But he carried on, trudging along the darkened path.

When the far off lights from his town had faded and he was in near blackness Billy knew the wall was close. A sort of buzzing energy seemed to radiate around him. Magick. Protection. 

He saw the forest ahead of him but it seemed watery, hazy and unfocused. Reaching a cautious hand forward, fingers dipping into the strange mix of air and water and light. Sure enough he could feel a cool breeze dusting over his bare fingers on the other side.

He’d reached the barrier.

Pulling his hand back one last time, the opposite hand tracing over the area that had just broken through,  searching for any sign of immediate harm or injury. Having found none Billy once more looked around him before waving a hand around his head, casting a temporary glamour over his ears, but still pulling the hood up for good measure and stepping forward.

Unconsciously holding his breath as his body molded against the thick magick mixture that separated worlds. A buzzing feeling tingled through his entire body from the top of his head to the tips of his toes almost until it was unbearable. 

A pricking sensation and the smell of something burning, a metallic tang in his mouth and then cool breeze. Like he’d felt previously on his fingers. Sometime his eyes had squeezed shut, so he ventured to open one, examine his whereabouts.

He was still in the forest. He truly was just a few paces from where he’d been standing not a moment before. He’d done it. He’d crossed the barrier. A feeling of excitement bubbled up in his chest into his throat.

Dashing off through the rest of the forest, jumping over fallen trees and skipping around rocks, barely containing the laughter rising in his body. The air smelled the same, maybe a crisper tinge to it, the wind was certainly cooler.

The mortal realm experienced seasons more harshly than in fae, and here they must’ve been at summers end, harvest season beginning with fervor. He didn’t realize how fast he was running until he spotted bright lights in the distance,

Immediately dropping into a lower stance, walking through the brambles more quietly than any human could. That’s when he spotted them. A group of men laughing and talking as they stood by a horse drawn cart. Tossing back pints of something then laughing louder.

Billy cocked his head to the side, trying to make out what they were saying. Something about work and wives and rotten bets. But besides that Billy found himself just staring at them. Humans. In the flesh.

They didn’t seem threatening at all, on the contrary they seemed almost, jovial. Men ranging in age from early 20’s to maybe late 50’s if he could venture a guess. They clanked their drinks together before turning to disappear into the village.

Staying hidden for a moment more Billy could see the town was bustling. Throngs of people milling about, talking loudly and laughing. Then he heard music, drifting throughout, a mesmerizing tune. 

His mind said ‘trap’ but his body urged him forward. Standing to take stock of his things, patting the dagger on his thigh, the knives hidden in his doublet, hood pulled taut, he emerged from the safety of the woods.

He knew he was overthinking his every step but no one around seemed to care. They were too busy having a good time, singing along and chattering among themselves happily. There seemed to be a festival of some sort going on, foods stands lined one of the main streets, fragrant food smells filled the air.

Bards would gather by groups of people sitting or standing and sing out verses that were responded to in kind. He might as well have been invisible. A fly on the wall, watching everything go on around him. That is until he bumped into a very drunk man off to the side.

Bracing for a fight once the man spun around to see who’s path he’d wandered into, a huge smile spreading across his face as he saw Billy.

“Happy solstice my dear boy!” He slurred, raising his tankard high overhead and dumping the liquid contents into his mouth, most of it missing and dribbling down his beard and the front of his shirt. 

Billy found himself staring bemused at the man before laughing along with the mans friends. Pardoning himself as he continued on down the street, seeing vendors holding out their wares.

Perfumes, jewelry, wooden carved trinkets, an assortment of fabrics and items that were so familiar and yet so foreign to him. In fae there were almost markets like this, but their items were far more bizarre, at least he assumed they would be to any human.

Potions to grow taller, or enchanted horse shoes to make your steed run faster. Goblets that never emptied and rings that made the wearer more beautiful. There was no magick like that here, and yet these items ensorcelled him nonetheless.

They were magickal in their simplicity. He hadn’t brought money, or else he’d stop at every vendor and peruse for far longer. All he had back home was his money, a dead giveaway of what he was. 

At one of the carts selling baked goods and all sorts of floral arrangements Billy allowed himself to stop and take in the exorbitant fragrances. He felt a small tug on his doublet, causing him to look down, only to be met with the eyes of a small little girl.

She looked up at him in wonderment, a large smile playing upon her face. His blood froze for a second wondering if she could see through his glamour. Children were not as easily swayed by magick.

Adults believed what their eyes showed them, but children….not always. But instead she held up a flower, plucked from what must’ve been her parents cart. A vibrant purple hued rose, with velvety petals and a matching ribbon tied around it daintily.

Billy took the flower into his hand, lifted it to his nose and breathed deeply in the Scent. The little girl watched him, and as if satisfied by his gratitude she skipped off to join her parents who were packing up some of their baked goods to a willing customer.

Was this what he was told to fear? Drunken men and little girls offering roses? Surely this couldn’t be it. Granted they knew not of who he was, but he expected judgement, a wary eye on the outsider. A stern look from passerby’s at this hooded man traipsing through their village.

He didn’t feel any of those things. If anything everyone seemed caught up in their own business and enjoying their evening as the moonlight spilled over the cobblestone streets. They seemed positively, happy. 

Loud jovial music rang out and Billy followed the sound. Loud booms of laughter continued and fast paced fiddle music wafted out into the road from the tavern before him. The Drunken Faery. He couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all.

Pushing against the heavy wooden door, sneaking past fellow patrons searching for the source of music. It’s packed full, all asses and elbows and yet everyone seems to be in high spirits. 

The drinking and feasting continued as he passes tables, shouldering past a few of the more drunken patrons. The crowd surges forward as the music starts up again, dancing towards the sound. 

He’d never felt claustrophobic before but this was almost too much. Billy pushed past the last tightly knit group on men before finally reaching the counter where an older man was pouring pints and sending them down the wooden surface to waiting hands. 

From this vantage point he could better take in the full expanse of the tavern without being squashed between multiple guests. 

Wrought iron sconces with fat candles dripping wax onto the fixture, chandeliers of deer antlers, a large fireplace centered in the room with abundant flames being stoked to warm the already hot environment.

Swaths of rich fabric hung decoratively along the walls and ceiling, some banners with crests. Huge casks of ale sat nestled off to the side, only a matter of time until they were broken into.

“Can I get you something?” A lilting voice rang out over the loud squabbling and high pitched music. Billy turned to come face to face with the bartender across from him .A woman.

Hair that shimmered in the candlelight and eyes that drank the moonlight greedily from the nearest window.

His mouth ran dry, probably gaping like a fish. But he could barely form words, this woman. The woman from his dreams, in the flesh. 

“Judging by that look I’d say you’re in desperate need of something strong.” You smirked, turning away to grab the nearest clean mug, running a towel around the rim for good measure before pouring a hearty serving of mead. Sliding the mug over to him in one fell swoop.

His eyes never left your face as his hands firmly grasped the handle, lifting the mead to his lips, drinking deeply. You propped an elbow on the counter, resting your chin in the palm of your hand watching him.

His eyes briefly fluttered shut as his throat worked, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of the liquid. Soon it had tapered down to nearly a few drops, mug once again meeting with the counter as he wiped at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Ya know…it’s suspicious seeing a hooded figure with an unfamiliar face in my tavern.” You mused watching his face for any sign of concern.

“I’m merely passing through. The festivities drew me in.” He responded in kind, tilting his head this way and that surveying the ruckus the crowd now seemed to be making. Music carrying in louder than before.

“Whereabouts are you from?” Curiosity tinged each of your words. You knew this entire village inside and out. Who was a drunkard, who was stealing, who was attempting to buy love potions from the fae, and who was getting into trouble.

There was of course the fair share of passerbys but most you could take one look at them and pin point where they were coming from. Most were from the lowlands, the main city, smaller towns dotting along. Even occasionally northerners coming down from their rocky outcroppings to take in new sights.

But this man. He didn’t give off the look of either. Pale skin, paler than those from the highlands even. Eyes as black as night, it was hard to even discern where his iris ended and pupil began. Far too dark to be from the mainland. 

The way his features settled on his face, as though carved with intention. Beautiful. Mysterious. It was hard to see under the hood but you could see his eyebrows were a dark brown hinting that the rest of his hair may be similar. 

“I came from the forests up north. A very small town.” 

“North Point or Versell?” You quirked a brow up waiting for his response. His stare never faltered  as he responded.

“North Point.” 

You clicked your tongue, picking up a nearby dirty glass, running a damp rag along the edges.

“Shame about the fire. I hope the town is able to rebuild better, lucky you weren’t harmed.” 

“Yes well, I was very lucky.” He was good. Barely batting an eye in response, body never altering posture.  

You leaned forward grabbing his mug and refilling it from the cask behind you, handing it back to his waiting hands. Billy took another long drink from the cup before setting it down off to the side this time.

You watched him intently. He was by far the most interesting person you’d encountered in a long time. And that was saying a lot given where you worked.

“Do you…have a name?” You inquired, wiping down your hand with a dry cloth that you kept tucked into the leather belt on your hips. 

Those dark eyes remained transfixed on your face. He didn’t give much away but you could almost hear the cogs turning in his head, wondering if it was wise to share that info with you. 

“Billy.” No title, no surname. Cut and dry.

You really liked this man. Whether that was his name or not you chose to use it.

“Well Billy, seeing as you’ve downed two casks of mead how is it you might be paying?” 

You felt your lips quirk up as for the first time he appeared caught off guard. As if not realizing payment was required in an establishment such as this. He patted along the front of his doublet, hands moving down to his leather breeches searching for some coin.

When it dawned on him he had nothing to pay with for the first time in maybe his entire life he felt somewhat embarrassed. How had you so easily persuaded him into taking something knowing he had no money to pay? 

Another seconds thought and he reached up under his cloak searching for something. You felt your muscles stiffen momentarily, unsure if he intended to draw a weapon and make a break for it, but what he did instead caught you even more off guard.

From under the cloak he produced a flower. A single rose, fragrant and full. Petals so dark, if the candlelight wasn’t there you’d assume it was black. It almost matched his eyes. 

Held out in offering to you. You reached forward grasping the stem, careful of the thorns, fingering the soft silky ribbon tied neatly in a bow. 

“Will this suffice?” You didn’t look at him as you touched each petal individually, it was beautiful. Beauty barely existed In this village anymore. 

Fetching a small glass of water you placed the flower in it, off to the side where no drunk patrons could fumble and knock it down, before turning back to Billy. Gathering your skirts in one hand and making your way around the counter before holding a hand out to him.

“Give me a dance and you’ll be paid in full.” 

He examined your hand, an odd look in his eyes but eventually you felt the warmth of his fingers slide into your own and you were pulling him through the crowd. 

People danced all around you, loud singing, pipes, and bells rang out producing a cacophony of sound that had you grinning from ear to ear. It was your favorite time of the year. 

Summer had come to a close and there was a nip to the air. Promise of renewal, first it was slow then it’d come all at once. This was the soft kiss of the year, the moment before lips parted and the cold filled the air once more.

You spared a glance back at Billy, hand still firmly in yours, his eyes darted around taking in the sights, pushing shoulder to shoulder with those you both passed. Soon you reached the center of the large space, though it was packed you managed to claim one unoccupied area just as the band worked up again.

The flute picked up pace, followed closely by the harp and pipes. Cheers rang out and clapping began, everyone falling into a ring, women to one side and men to the other. 

You playfully pushed him to the mens side and you caught, if only for a second, mirth in his eyes. Clapping continued as the circle moved, each side responding in kind to the others.

Women swayed their skirts, shooting coy glances to their counterparts before clapping hands and spinning once, twice, three times in accompaniment. It went on and on, then it was your turn.

Sashaying to the center where Billy now resided, the other men having fallen back behind him to his momentary shock and amusement. Twirling around him, tracing a finger along the front of his chest to the center of his back, skirts fisted in your left hand.

You were about to continue on teasingly to the laughter of those around you but gasped as you felt strong hands clasp at your waist, lifting you high up, before setting you down, those same hands spinning you outwards then back in.

Landing softly into his arms, dipping low, the lights seemed to blare around you as you looked up to be met with Billy’s dark eyes, an actual grin broke across his face having taken you by utter and complete surprise.

You barely had time to register you were moving again when suddenly you were once more upright being spun back to your origin in the line, laughter and clapping erupted as you two joined back to your respective places.

The song continued on for a few more minutes but you didn’t hear it, all you could focus on was the mysterious man across from you. Clapping in time with the others but clearly not one of them.

Could anyone else see it or was it only you?

Soon the song ended and before the next one began You’d made your way over to your dance partner pulling him off to the side still breathless.

“You dance quite well.” His eyes crinkled along with the small smile on his lips.

“That’s how its taught in North Point.” He responded before his expression changed, looking out the nearest window. You followed his gaze seeing nothing only the moon, much lower in the sky now. “Walk with me before I go.” 

You only nodded, not sure how to respond. Feeling a small pin prick of worry at the thought of him leaving. Would you ever see him again?

You two pushed through the throngs of people, even though the night was late many still lined the streets and corners. The rush of cool crisp air providing respite from the clogged scents of the tavern.

Standing for a moment he surveyed the people milling about, laughing and talking as if he were seeing it for the first time. He didn’t turn to you when he spoke next, “This celebration, what is it?” 

You walked up closer to him, noticing how much he towered over your own frame.

“It’s the autumnal solstice.” 

His brows drew together in thought, pondering the words.

“It’s strange, to celebrate a time when crops will soon die and cold approaches.” 

“No it’s beautiful. Autumn is nature’s last vibrant battle cry before fading into the softness of quiet renewal.” 

He turned to you then, examining your face with the same effort and discernment he had just done on the townsfolk and village. His throat worked, words unspoken seemed to drift behind his eyes.

Lifting a hand to caress the side of your cheek, you leaned into it, the warmth, the tenderness and silent strength and something else sparked in the back of your mind.

“I must go.” 

“Will you return?” You barely gave men the time of day, waiting on them bored you and their company never thrilled you, and yet with him….

“North Point is far away. I’m not sure.” He adjusted his cloak once more, you found yourself wondering how it had stayed so perfectly in place during your dance. The absence of where his hand had been suddenly felt very cold.

He took off, walking carefully over the cobblestones and into the night.

“It must be lonely-“ you called out, watching him pause in his gait. “To live in a town that’s been abandoned for 200 years.” 

Watching, waiting for a reaction. Yes North Point had had a fire blaze through it. Hundreds of years ago, you knew for a fact that no one occupied its residences ever since, all having moved to Vesell. 

He only hesitated a moment, never looking back, and then continuing on into the darkness until you could no longer seem him, left to wonder about where it was he truly was going.

[neonpaperlanterns]

Should have listened

If Adeline’s grandmother knew what her precious granddaughter was about to do she would probably have a heart attack. Her Oma had filled Adeline’s young mind with tales of Fae and mischief. How she needed to respect them and what they represent. That she should never follow after stray cats and ignore the whispers she heard in the night. Those were simply tricks played by Fae trying to lure young children away from their homes. She had taken this all to heart and followed all of her Oma’s teachings. 

Though as time had gone on and she had gotten older she believed less and less in the warnings she had been given. She still respected what she learned. Never went anywhere after dark or wandered too deep into the dense forest that encompassed the majority of her town.

“Ade, get on with it!” a fit of giggling sounded behind her as she glared at her friends. Four sets of grinning faces looked at her from the safety of the car. The headlights illuminated the encroaching gloom. A shiver went up her spine as she looked into the woods. Her friends had made a bet. A bet that only broke idiotic college students would accept.

That was Adeline.

She just needed to go into the forest at midnight alone and make an offering to an ancient statue that resided at the center.

Simple enough.

She had thought so at the time anyway. But now she was second guessing herself. Cold seeped into her bare feet as she stared down the every growing shadows. It might not have been so bad if Emily hadn’t insisted she look the “part”. Everyone had jumped on board with that suggestion and now she stood wearing a simple white dress and colorful flowers adorning her dark hair. She felt more like a sacrifice than someone going to make a simple offering.

“Are you chickening out?” The teasing tone made her shoulders hunch up around her ears. If she didn’t do this she would be out four hundred dollars and she would have to walk home.

“No!” she called back defensively. “I just need to ask for safe passage.” She opened her satchel and pulled out a jar full of glass beads and a freshly baked sweet roll. She could hear her friends start to snicker as she placed the first offerings of the night at the edge of the woods. Clasping her hands together like her Oma taught her she spoke softly but clearly.

“Please accept these gifts in exchange for allowing me through the woods.” She waited for a moment. The small childish part of her wondering if anything would answer.

But nothing did.

Taking that as a sign to go forward she took a shaky step into trees.

“Remember to follow the path! You can’t miss it!” Emily called out, a chorus of cackling erupting after her. Adeline had a feeling that her friends were planning something. They were going to prank her, she was sure of it. But she really did need the money. Determination pushed her forward as she padded along the worn trail. Fireflies danced in the corner of her eyes and the sound of the night filled the air. 

It was almost peaceful.

Light flickered ahead of her as the path soon became smooth stone. It was jarring on the soles of her feet as she approached a small statue. A small fire was burning in the mouth of a snarling dragon. The fact that it was actually lit made her firmly believe that her friends were up to something. She had to give them props for creativity. She sighed as she traced the intricate details of the dragon with her eyes. The head was constructed at such an angle that it pointed further along the path. Her gaze followed the dragons as she saw another light flickering in the distance. Adeline sang quietly as she trekked along. She got the feeling she was being watched. It crept along her spine and made the hair on her arms stand on end.

They were very committed it seemed.

Watching every motion in my foolish lover's game.

On this endless ocean, finally lovers know no shame.

The wind tickled against her exposed ankles and ruffled through her hair. She had the thought that it felt playful as it appeared to be pushing her on. An involuntary laugh fell from her lips. She thinks that all those stories her Oma told her were getting to her. Leaning back she peers up at the night sky. The stars shone brightly and for a moment she swears she saw something block them out. Her eyes only saw a vast expanse of nothing and then the stars were back. Shining like they had never left.

A fleeting memory of Oma telling her a story about her own Oma slunk to the forefront of her mind. She had told Adeline that when her Oma was young she spoke of dragons. How they covered the skies and obstructed the sun. Adeline’s Oma even swore up and down she had seen once. Flying over this very forest.

Shaking her head of the memory she ventured further still.

Turning and returning to some secret place inside.

Watching in slow motion as you turn around and say,

Take my breath away.

Take my breath away.

Adeline could swear she hears someone singing alongside her. If her friends wanted to scare her then they were doing a good job. It was eerie as she shuffled along the path faster. She just needed to get this over with and then she would be able to buy food for the month.

Watching, I keep waiting, still anticipating love.

Never hesitating to become the fated ones.

Turning and returning to some secret place inside.

Watching in slow motion as you turn to me and say,

My love, take my breath away.

“Through the-” she trailed off as she came to a stop. No more dragon statues to lead her, no more small flames to guide her. Adeline stared at a small pond. It was littered with lanterns that looked like tiny suns in the reflection of the water. And standing proud in the center was an arch way with creeping vines. An altar sat in the middle surrounded by floating flowers. A lone figure with a long since faded face stood behind it all. Their arms spread out as if they were waiting. It was honestly beautiful. Blue eyes turned to saucers as she took in the scene.

Holy shit her friends really went all out. 

Making sure her bag was secure she lifted her dress and stepped into the water. Soft sand squished between her toes as the water came up to her mid thigh. 

It was surprisingly warm.

Wading up to the archway she almost stumbled over the gentle incline. Carefully so as not to drop her gifts or hurt herself she made it up to the altar. The water now only came up past her ankles. Her gaze darted around, her muscles tense. She was sure her friends would jump out at any moment. Taking a deep breath she fished out the remaining offerings. Her hand wrapped around the neck of a smooth bottle. Szamorodni was a popular sweet wine and she recalls that Fae enjoyed drinks like this. She placed it on the altar. Next was a tiny jar filled with gold jewelry. Nothing was particularly new in there, she had long stopped wearing the heart necklace that resided in the container. She was even sure half the earrings didn’t have a pair anymore. It was a perfect simple offering. She smiled as she placed the last little trinket. A delicate glass orb that fit in the palm of her hand. Adeline had found it randomly at an antique store. Hidden inside were two indistinguishable figures, forever frozen in an intricate dance. 

“Please accept these offerings.” she spoke softly as she interlocked her fingers with her head down. Something seemed to shift and the lanterns dimmed. Shadows crept in as she felt the inexplicable tingle that someone was behind her. Breath catching in her throat as she spun around. Eyes widen and she feels herself freeze. She didn't know what to expect when she turned around. Maybe something cheesy from her friends. A stupid costume and flailing limbs but that is not what she got.

Standing right before the incline up to the altar was a man. His frame was large as even though he wasn’t standing on her level he towered over her.

His gaze bore into hers. His eyes gleamed in the somber light, they looked like twinkling rubies. It was startling and she had to avert her gaze. Eyes traveled to his clothing. He was draped in deep purple robes. Opulent glittering gold jewelry was woven through his dress and hung from his neck. 

“Hello Mea Carmina.” his voice sounded like right before a storm. Her eyes snapped back up to look at him. 

“He.. Hello.” she wanted to look around for her friends, for a sign that this was some very elaborate prank. But she couldn’t look away from this man. She doesn’t think she can or should let him out of her sight. He stepped forward and Adeline almost choked. His gaze slipped from hers as she scuttled to the side. Water splashing up as she put distance between them. She watched fascinated as he approached the altar. Long slender fingers seemed to appraise the offerings she had left. Her heart beat both picked up and slowed down.

This had to be a part of the prank. It had to be.  

“Accepted.” Adeline blinked slowly as she watched him turn over the glass orb in his hands.

“It has been many years since I was last offered something. What a kind gesture.” He turned to look at her. A smile that revealed sharp fangs flashed at her. It was frightening but the feeling that he meant her no harm settled over her. 

That confused her.

“You’ve been so respectful too. Not like the others I found daring to wander my forest.” the smile turned pointed and his jaw ticked as if in irritation. The lanterns around them brightened, the light turned harsh before calming back down.

“What do you mean by others?” she ventured to ask. 

This was a prank.

This was a joke.

Her friends had paid someone to do this. They paid this man to act out this strange strange joke. He looked at her as if she should already knew the answer. And she did, he was talking about her friends. Had they paid this man to pretend as if they were in danger? Swallowing around the growing lump in her throat she forced herself to laugh. “This is part of the joke right? It has to be. I knew they would do something as soon as I accepted this bet.” she tried to keep her tone light as he looked at her with inhuman eyes.

He was not laughing.

But he was smiling.

It was not pleasant.

The sinking feeling that maybe this wasn’t a joke clawed at her. If for some unholy reason she was dealing with something mystical she needed to play carefully.

“You said they were being disrespectful. What did they do?” she positioned the arch way between her and this man. He sighed, it rolled like thunder over Adeline. “No offerings, no asking for safe passage. Nothing. Simply waltzed in here as if they were owed something. So unlike you Mea Carmina.” he cooed at her. Biting at her lip she drummed her fingers against the stone.

“I am sorry for how they have treated your forest. Please allow us to leave and we shall come back with a grand apology.” she wasn’t sure if he would take her offer. But if her friends wanted to play damsels she would save them. His finger tapped languidly against his chin. His lips pursed in contemplation.

“I suppose I could allow exit from my domain..” his eyes flit over Adeline and then back to the altar. “With conditions. Or course.” his tone was teasing as he rounded the arch way. Now on the same side as her. His stride was careful, leisurely even. Matching his pace she circled round, keeping distance. His eyes became hooded as this all felt like a game. Them circling the altar in a strange sort of dance. Her barely within his reach and her knowing he is allowing this distance.

“And what are those conditions?” Their movement was causing ripples to break the surface of the water. The flowers swayed with every step.

“First give me your name?” his head tilted to the side, long hair that looked to reflect the night sky cascading over his shoulder. Her eyes narrowed. If this man was for some reason a Fae or pretending at one then he was being very obvious about it.

“I will not give you my name but I will tell you my name if you tell me yours.” This was not information she would speak for free. He chuckled, it was deep and it felt like the world shook with it.

“I don’t see why not.” He bowed, his hand sweeping out making the gem stones hanging from the lines of gold along his arm clink together.

“I am Megatronus, ruler of this realm and King of Dragons.” he looked at her expectantly. She thinks he wants her to be impressed. She gives her own bow in return.

“It is an honor to make you acquittance King Megatronus. I have no titles for in comparison I am but a humble peasant. I am Adeline.” she glances up and nearly stumbles as Megatronus was looming over her. So close that they were practically breathing the same air.

“Adeline.” he appeared to be rolling her name over his tongue.

“Yes. Now I believe you mentioned conditions as in more than one?” she went to scuttle backwards but he caught her hands in his. Pulling her closer he encompassed her.

“Of course Adeline. I will let those disrespectful little rats go if you simply be mine.” he said it so calmly. Like it didn’t sound absolutely insane. 

“What?” she questioned trying not to laugh at the absurd notion.

“I know it sounds bizarre. But others have wed for less.” he simpered over her, a single finger trailing down her cheek. “It’s been so long and time only makes the heart grow softer.” with every word he spoke he got closer. Her vision being consumed by him. “And you Mea Carmina, you my Adeline would make a perfect bride.” he suddenly twirled her around, forcing her up onto the altar. Her previous offerings fell and shattered against the stone. 

This had gone too far. 

Pushing against Megatronus's chest she kicked her feet out at him.

“Get off me! This isn’t funny and I am done humoring this sick prank!” She shouted as she struggled against him. He simply cooed at her, his face slowly elongating and distorting.

“You still think this is a joke? I suppose I can’t blame you, you are only human after all.” a hand that steadily began to sharpen brushed through her hair, catching on knots and flowers.

A scream caught in her throat.

Oh god this was real.

“Choose Adeline. I will allow you out of the goodness of my heart to exit my domain. Your friends will be damned but you will be safe.” his voice turned gravely and filled with smoke. He tapped a clawed finger against the stone of the altar.

“Or they leave, no harm will befall them I promise. But you stay with me. Forever as my most treasured possession. My dearest Adeline.” he spoke directly into her ear and she could feel shame crawl up her throat. She thought for a moment of leaving her friends here. Technically this was all their fault. They chose this stupid bet. But she had gone along with it. She chose to go through with it. This was as much her fault as theirs. 

“Okay.” she spoke barely above a whisper. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.

“Say it, tell me you give yourself to me. Say that you belong to me.” he demanded, his voice growing in volume. She could feel herself shaking as she tried to force out the words. They felt heavy on her tongue.

Her lower lip trembled as he egged her on. His eyes searing into hers, a frantic joy taking over his features.

“Hurry Adeline.” he urged.

“I’m yours. I belong to you. I, Adeline, give myself to you, Megatronus.” a sudden burning pain enveloped her hand. It was brief but she couldn’t hold in the scream. Megatronus whispered hushed apologies into her ear as he kissed her falling tears away.

“I’m sorry Mea Carmina. I know it hurts but look.” he lifted her left hand showing her an intricate twining of golden rings that wrapped around her ring finger. At the center was shimmering sapphire. The blues so dark that it appeared nearly black in the middle.

He lifted her into his arms and held her close to his chest.

“Now my lovely little bride, let us go home.”

________________

Adeline laid awake as her husband lay sleeping peacefully. Hands that she could barely look at without seeing growing scales and claws rest gently over her waist. She wanted to move away, put a minuscule amount of space between them. But he only pulled her closer, his grip tightening as he muttered lazily in her ear. She tried not to cringe as he placed dry kisses along her neck and cheek.

“Good morning.” his voice was gravely and thick with sleep. “Did you sleep well?” he purred as positioned himself over her. 

When he had brought her back to his home he had immediately as he put it wanted to consummate the marriage. Panic had gripped Adeline’s heart so furiously that she almost couldn’t speak. He didn’t seem deterred at her silence or how utterly stiff she had become. He had gone to kiss her when she slapped a hand over her mouth. His red eyes flared as his lips curled over his teeth.

Frantically she tried to think of a way out of this. 

“We can’t!” she squeaked. Megatronus did not look amused, his grip on her becoming pointed and she could see scales blooming across his skin. 

“And why is that my dear?” he spoke so softly but Adeline was not fooled.

“We… We..” her eyes darted around, breath stalling. “We haven’t had a proper wedding?” she says it slowly and her voice holds a question. This does seem to give him pause though.

“I see no reason for such a thing. We are already bound together.” he lifted up her hand, once again showing off the ring. 

“But.. Please?” her lip trembles and she is shaking as he lays a kiss on her palm. “I want this. Please? I want a celebration with you.” Adeline wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned up placing a chaste kiss to the side of his mouth. Her throat felt dry and she wanted to cry.

“Please?” she pleaded. She wasn’t sure if her pleading had gotten him or the moment of willing affection but he let out a deep rumble and dramatically dipped her.

“How can I refuse you?” he mused. “Alright, I will give you a wedding in the morning.” she had wanted to argue that wasn’t enough time. She needed more time to plan. But he was twirling her through rooms, humming softly as they went.

A thumb brushing along her cheek brought her out of her thoughts. He was staring down at her near lovingly. 

“Adeline?” right he had asked her a question. She had not slept, not really. Her mind would not calm too full of what was to come when the sun rose. 

“I slept well.” she smiled at him, hoping that he would take this discomfort in her expression as just having woken up. It appeared that he had because he was smiling back down at her. 

“Wonderful.” he nuzzled his cheek against hers. “Are you ready?” he asked as he lifted her from the bed, carrying her to god knows where. She wanted to tell him no, no she was not ready. That she needed more time. But instead she lied through her teeth.

“Of course I am.”

[feyreswaterybowels]

⭒The Silent One⭒

#1 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Velaris was home to many pleasure houses but when the high lord learns the owners of these houses aren’t abiding bu long reigning laws he and his inner circle steps in—in the process taking in an Illyrian female that had been abused and tormented.

Warnings/Tags: mute character. slow burn romance. trauma. sexual abuse. found family. building romance/trust after trauma. violence. strong female character. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All likes, re blogs and comments are welcome, appreciated and highly encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Bold italics are mental communication, regular italics are inner thoughts.

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The smell of smoke was thick in the air. The floor was wet, the air moist and chilled. The building Azriel and Cassian just entered was one of the many pleasure houses in Velaris. This was no ordinary visit for pleasure. No. They were on a mission per their High Lord’s command.

The Velvet Pearl was a pleasure house where those who entered could pay for sexual services. Men and women alike were welcome and the Pearl was known to have anything a person was looking for—whether that be a specific species, body type, hair color, skin color or a specific act. It could all be found here. The Mistresses made it their job to comb through the streets looking for those who would enjoy the work.

That’s what led their mission here tonight. Pleasure houses are no secret in Velaris. They are out in the open. There can be one found for many vices. Gambling, dancing, drinking and of course sex. There aren’t many rules for these houses by the High Lords command, but a big one had been broken recently.

Consent.

The law of consent in these pleasure houses is major, one of the most important to the High Lord, Rhysand, and the ones before him. One cannot force another to drink. One cannot force another to gamble. Once cannot force another into sexual acts. Any person visiting or working at these establishments must be there of their own free will.

With the pleasure houses specifically this rule had been broken when one of Azriel’s spies fled into Rhysand office, informing him of many pleasure houses buying fae citizens off of families who needed money. The high lord was shocked, they hadn’t had any issues like this in centuries. He immediately summoned his inner circle looking to them for advice.

That’s how Azriel and Cassian ended up here now. They, and a few other soldiers, were to patrol the pleasure houses for the next few night. Look and listen for any signs that confirm the information given to them.

The Velvet Pearl was a very niche business. A large luxurious building, mirrors lined the outside walls reflecting the beauty of Velaris on the outside. The inside however was lined and decorated in blacks, red, green and golds. The lights were low and colorful. A huge bar with various types of wines, liquors, spirits and beers. They always had heavy music playing. Poles and stages for the workers to dance on. On the upper most floors were doors lining the walls. Private rooms that could be paid for and used for the services.

However, the luxury ended when one entered the Dungeon as they called it. A fitting name for the place they had just entered. The place where one picked their partner for the night. Caged cells lined the room and sat atop one another zig-zagging around the room like a maze. Males and females, mostly lesser fae but some high fae as well, a few different species. All naked. All pressed against the bars of their enclosures. Heavy lidded eyes trained on the two massive Illyrian warriors before them. Reaching out to touch, but not actually touching, they all knew better than to touch anyone who doesn’t explicitly ask for it. Some of them, however, touched one another through the bars, enticing a buyer to take them both for the night.

“I’m really good at wing play, I’ll make you cum in less than a minute,” A pretty fae, purred. Lesser fae Azriel noted, long dark hair curled around her perky breasts, skin a dark blue with eyes to match. She was definitely attractive.

“Sorry, I prefer it to last a little longer than that,” Cassian winked at her, getting a giggle in return. Azriel rolled his eyes but a barely there grin that only his brother would notice played on his lips.

They continued on. Looking at every fae in the room. Analyzing them, reading their body language making sure they truly wanted to be here. These fae, as they should, all seem to love their job. That’s how it should be. It’s when they got to the end of the line, nearly out of the room that things took a turn.

A cell that was previously empty was now occupied by a female and a mistress—mistresses only accompanied new workers. A snap echoed through the space and the two warriors shared a look before walking over. Both hiding their shock at the sight in front of them.

There pressed against the back of the cage was a female, not just any female though. Her eyes were wide as she watched them approach. Eyes scanning their wings, siphons and weapons. Pushing herself into the corner and trying to cover her nakedness with her hands. Another snap echoed, her hands dropping to the side as she cried out when the mistress struck her thigh again.

“No need for that,” Azriel growled. His shadows raced around him, curling around his ear to whisper to him.

Glamor. The female is glamored. They hiss.

He gave Cassian a side eye before locking eyes with the mistress.

“Remove her glamor,” Azriel ordered. The mistress blanched, eyes wide in shock.

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“Do we need to tell Thane you don’t know how to follow orders?” Cassian snarled. She gave a meek head shake.

“As you wish,” She said before waving her hand, the glamor shimmering away leaving both men there shocked at the sight in front of them.

Azriel heard Cassian's intake of breath. Hidden behind that glamor was a pair of Illyrian wings, bound behind her in a way that was obviously very uncomfortable with the way they twitched and shifted in their bindings.

“Remove her binding as well. Do you know what can happen to Illyrian wings if they stay bound like that?” Cassian said, arms crossing over his chest in an attempt to not rip the bars from the cage. The bound female looks between the two men, cautious and weary as the Mistress narrows her eyes.

“She’s unclipped and doesn’t know how to control them. We bound them so she doesn’t hurt herself or someone else,” the Mistress explained, but it wasn’t the right answer to give.

“Unbind her now,” Azriel ordered, his voice a booming echo in the room, it was not a question. The Mistress understood that tone, turning to the female, grabbing her roughly and turning her. She cut the rope and the wings instantly sagged, finding relief outside of the bindings.

“See, she can’t even hold them up,” the Mistress snapped, pushing the female back against the wall.

“She can’t hold them up because the muscles have been weakened due to lack of use caused by binding them,” Cassin snarled right back, satisfaction coiling in him at the way she flinched away. “How the hell did you acquire an Illyrian female without even knowing anything of their basic anatomy?”

The Mistress glared at him again. “She was sold to us unsullied by a third party. Half Illyrian, half high fae. Her father gambled away all of their money, he was in debt and sold his daughter off to pay his debts.”

“The purchasing of females to work in pleasure houses is illegal. You are in direct violation of breaking that law,” Azriel spoke, staring the woman down. “Open the cage. She’s coming with us.”

The cage opens and Cassian gestures for the mistress to exit the space. She looks at the female before reluctantly stepping out. Azriel steps but keeps his distance.

“I’m Azriel. What is your name?” He asked, catching her green eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dim lights.

“Don’t bother. She’s had her tongue removed,” the Mistress answered, mouth snapping shut when Cassian’s head snapped in her direction.

Azriel growls low in his throat, but stops himself when he catches the look on the female's face in front of him. Terrified. She was absolutely terrified.

“It’s okay,” he offered softly, stepping further into the cage “cover yourself.”

She looked at him skeptically. Weary. Cautious. She glances at the stick the mistress leaned against the wall then down at her red streaked, bruised thighs. She was scared he was going to hit her if she covered herself. He silently ordered one of his shadows to remove the stick from the room. Rhysand would definitely be hearing about that.

“No further harm will come to you, please, cover yourself,” Azriel soothed, shifting so she was out of view of the horrible Mistress behind him.

She watched him for a second before she dropped her head down and slowly folded her wings around herself, effectively covering her body.

“Have you ever winnowed before?” Azriel asked, watching her brows furrow. “Don’t be scared. I need to touch you but I’m only going to wrap my arm around you okay?”

The female was hesitant, but took a step forward. Those two men were terrifying, but they never looked away from her face unlike every other male who only stared at her body. Maybe wherever they were going to take her would be better than this place.

Azriel outstretched his hand, watched her eyes track the movement and take in his scars and siphons. Though she still seemed terrified she shifted in a way that he could easily wrap his arm around her back.

“You’re coming with us, too,” Cassian snarls to the Mistress, grabbing her before slapping his hand down onto Azriel’s shoulder.

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One minute they were standing in the pleasure house then the next there was nothing but swirling darkness. She clung to Azriel, somehow finding comfort in the arm wrapped securely around her.

When things came back into view the first thing she noticed were the stars in the sky. It had been so long since she saw the sky. Only she hadn’t been able to focus on it long, realizing they weren’t on a flat surface they were in the air and…falling.

A scream threatened to escape from her lips but that arm tightened around her and they were no longer falling but gliding lower and lower until they swooped through a window. She couldn’t really tell where she was at but as soon as her feet hit the ground she collapsed into herself. She pulled her knees to her chest inside of her winged cacoon, pushing her forehead against them and willing the sickness in her stomach to go away.

She didn’t look up at the sounds of a struggle, trying to ignore the grunting growls of a male who had just been slapped before the high pitched voice demanded, “Let me go! Take your hands off of me, you have no right!”

And she had been too scared to look up when she heard a booming voice that seemed to shake the very ground she was clinging to.

“He had every right,” is what that booming voice said, commanding silence from everyone in the room.

The silence was deafening.

She heard the sound of heels clicking, closer then further away then back in her direction again. She still didn’t look up. Not when she felt those heels next to her, or when the person wearing them wrapped something warm around her.

“My High Lord, please—”

“Take her to a cell,” That voice ordered again, not as loud but just as commanding and for a moment she thought they were talking about her.

She was about to beg. Don’t make me go. Please. Please, don’t take me to another cell!

It was only when she heard the other female, the Mistress, struggling again that she realized he wasn’t talking about her. He wasn’t locking her away…not yet anyway. When the struggling stopped and the shouts could no longer be heard. That’s when she looked up.

Her eyes instantly met dark violet. He looked similar to the other two males…golden tanned skin, dark hair, tall, but no wings. Unless they were hidden like hers had been.

“My name is Rhysand. What’s your name?” The voice asked, soothing almost, easing the tension from her shoulders.

“She can’t speak, Rhy,” the male from earlier, Azriel spoke. “They cut her tongue out.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath beside her and she remembers someone had been beside her. She looks up, taking in the heels, red silk top, blonde hair curled, and a pair of deep brown eyes on a beautiful face.

There is sadness in those eyes, etched in her flawless face and she has to look away. The anger flashing in those violet eyes isn’t much easier to look at.

“If I get you a pen and paper can you write?” He asked, again that voice soothing her in a way she didn’t quite understand. She shook her head.

Her father never taught them to read or write. They had no need for either being locked in that basement…that dark, cold, terrifying basement—

The male, Rhysand as he’d been called, frowns. Looking towards Azriel as if they were having a silent conversation before his eyes fall on her again and he takes a step forward, crouching down so they were eye level.

“I’m a daemati. Do you know what that is?” Rhysand asked. She shook her head again. “It means I can see and enter into people’s minds. Like this—hello, my name is Rhysand.”

Her eyes widen as that voice echoes in her head. What is happening right now? She meets Rhysand’s eyes, mouth falling open slightly. “You can hear me, too?”

“I can,” he responded out loud. “May we have the pleasure of knowing your name, sweetheart?”

She thought for a moment. No one had asked her for her name. They called her a lot of things…but never her name. She swallowed thickly, cleared her throat and nodded slowly.

“Cassandra. My name is Cassandra.” She answered, watching a warm smile come over his face as he stood and took the last few steps, offering his hand to her.

She doesn’t hesitate, placing her hand in his and allows him to gently pull her to her feet. She glances in the direction of Azriel and the pretty blonde just as the other male from before enters the room.

He shares that same look with Rhysand, like they’re communicating silently and now she knows that’s most likely the case. Rhysand dips his head in answer to whatever was said.

“Let me properly introduce you,” He says, gesturing to the three people in the room with them. “This is Azriel, Cassian and Morrigan. Everyone, this is Cassandra.”

Her heart skips in her chest. She hadn’t realized that it could feel so nice just to hear someone say her name. She gives Rhysand a small grateful look, hoping he understood what it means. He just gave her a single nod.

“Cassandra, you are officially under the protection of the night court,” Rhysand said, as she stood there staring at him. She felt something in her mind, like an opening and assumed it must be him waiting to see if she needed to say something.

“High Lord?” Cassandra asked and he nodded though he looked confused.

“Yes, I’m a high lord. Do you know what that is?” he asked. She shook her head, shrugging her shoulders meekly. The four of them share a look and it makes her want to drop back down into her cocoon and hide. “We can do a run down of titles and histories later. I am High Lord of Velaris, I rule this city and all of the people in it. Cassian is the commander of my armies. Azriel is my spy master. And Morrigan is my third in command as well as my cousin.”

Cassandra stands there. Everything coming from his mouth sounded foreign as if he was speaking another language. She nodded her head but it was more than obvious she didn’t really understand.

“Morrigan will escort you to your room—”

“Room? Not cell?” She asked surprised, not meaning to cut him off.

“You are not a prisoner, Cassandra. So, no, you won’t be sleeping in a cell. You will have your own room and you can do as you please,” Rhysand promised. “I have two amazing females, Nuala and Cerridwen that will tend to you. I would also like you to know I’ve placed a special ward on your room. No male will be allowed to enter your room, not even me unless you specifically invite them in. I want you to feel safe here. No one will lay a hand on you again without your permission. Not here. Not anywhere. Not ever again.”

Cassandra isn’t exactly sure what to say or what to do. No one, not even her own family has ever been this kind or considerate of her. She feels the tears in her eyes as she looks at him.

“Thank you.” Is all she can manage.

“There’s no need to thank me,” He shakes his head. Genuine. Sincere. There’s no trick behind his kindness. “Nuala and Cerridwen will take care of you, if you need anything ask them and they’ll get it for you. Once you feel comfortable and settled please come join us for dinner if you’re hungry. Do you need any special foods?”

“No…just soft foods. If there’s meat it just has to be small,” She answered, not wanting to show how special it felt that he asked that question silently.

“Not a problem at all,” Rhysand promised, giving her a small smile before waving Morrigan back over.

“Come, you’ll be right through here,” the beautiful female speaks, her voice smooth and warm. It reminded Cassandra of her mother.

Cassandra gave a small head nod before following Morrigan. The stone floors cold under her bare feet as she pulled the cover tighter around herself. The large, wooden double doors opened seemingly on their own accord. Cassandra looked back, locking eyes with Azriel, that male with the shadows, for a moment before they turned out of the room.

They walked down the hall in what Cassandra could only describe as comfortable silence. It gave her time to take in the beautiful home that seemed to be carved from…stone? Accented by wood and golden lights.

Cassandra slowed when they passed a particularly beautiful painting that caught her eye. The click of Morrigan’s heels slowed as well. The painting was of a large city, glow lights, and a bright river all at the base of a beautiful huge mountain. She scanned the painting. It felt so warm and inviting just like this home and the people in it.

“That’s Velaris,” Morrigan says from behind her. “Have you ever seen the city?”

Cassandra’s eyes stay on the painting and shakes her head. She hears the other female swallow thickly but still can’t tear her eyes from the beautiful painting.

“This is the city, it holds houses and businesses,” Morrigan begins pointing at the painting and tracing around the area she was talking about before moving to the brightest, most colorful part of the painting. “This is what we like to call the Rainbow. It’s where our artists of all kinds live. I like to go there to eat the music, it’s home to the best pastries, too! This here is the Sidra River, it’s sparkling blue in the daytime and winds all the way through Velaris. And this is where we are. We call it the House of Wind.”

Cassandra’s jaw drops a little when Morrigan points to the mountain, to the house carved in it. She looks around then back at the painting. Beautiful.

“One day, when you’re feeling up to it, you and I could have a girls day in the city. Just me and you. And I could show you all of the best shops, we could walk along the Sidra, you’ll love it. But only when you’re ready!” She clarified and Cassandra finally looked at her hearing the excitement in her voice.

“I don’t have many female friends and I can only have so much fun with those males,” She said, a smile stretching her red painted lips.

Cassandra tried to return the smile but she was sure it didn’t look genuine, she liked the idea of being…friends with Morrigan. But she didn’t know what all that entailed. Would Morrigan expect things of her if they became friends? Like those girls at the pleasure house?

“Come let’s get you to your room,” Morrigan cut through her thoughts and Cassandra offered a small nod before following once again.

Two more turns and a flight of stairs got them to where they were going. Two beautiful females stood outside an open door, dark skin with eyes and hair to match.

“Nuala and Cerridwen,” Morrigan motioned to each female, “this is Cassandra. Please, help her get cleaned up, changed and settled in. Cassandra, once you're settled, like Rhys said, please, consider coming to join us for dinner.”

Morrigan offers a smile before turning away. Cassandra’s hand shoots out to grab her wrist, to stop her, only to realize what she’d done and let go immediately, stumbling back a step.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Morrigan soothed, reaching out to steady her. “Would you like me to walk in with you?”

A jerky head nod was the answer she got.

“Alright, come,” She breathed softly, walking in the room first and waiting patiently for Cassandra.

When she entered the room her mouth fell open at how large it was. Situated in the middle of one wall was a huge bed—so huge she was sure she could lay on it, stretch her wigs out as far as they would go and still have room to spare. The covers were white and looked so fluffy. There were glowing lights all around the room. The opposite wall of the bed held a wall of glass less windows. Another wall held a table and chairs and a shelf with books. Then the other side opened into a large bathroom.

“Take a moment for yourself. Your life is about you now, Cassandra. You will never be used for someone else's pleasure or entertainment ever again. This is your room. This is your home now,” Morrigan speaks and Cassandra feels her eyes tear up but then Morrigan's heels are leaving the room and those two dark skinned beauties are leading her to the bathroom.

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As soon as she was out of the room Morrigan broke down. Hot tears slid down her cheeks as she made her way back to the room she left the other three male in. She had just calmed herself when she walked in and saw them standing together.

“Is everything okay, Mor?” Cassian asked, siphons gleaming atop his hands.

“I don’t think she’s ever been outside before, Rhys,” and just like that Morrigan’s eyes were brimming with tears once again. Rhys fixed her with a look urging her to explain, an ache in his own chest. She takes a breath, looking up and wiping the tears from her eyes. “We were passing that big painting of Velaris and she had no clue what she was looking at. She had no idea what her own home looked like. And on top of that she was terrified to even walk in the room alone, I had to walk her in. And—and she looked at the room like she didn’t believe it was real. Especially the bed and I keep thinking that maybe she never even had a bed!”

Cassian is the one to walk over and offer Morrigan the comfort of a hug. “It’s okay. We’re gonna take care of her now. Find all the people who did this, help her through it all and help her find herself. She’s gonna be okay.”

Rhys and Azriel look at one another. “There’s no telling how many other girls like Cassandra there are out there. I’m hoping she will join us for dinner so I’m able to ask her some questions without her feeling cornered. Azriel, Cassian, I want you two to go talk to that mistress, find out what you can without harming her…for now. Her and anyone else involved will be prosecuted accordingly. Go. now.”

[ladylokilaufeyson5]

Where The Shadows Dance - The Proposition (i)

Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader

CHAPTER I: The Proposition

SUMMARY: Beron has invited the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court to spend a week in the Autumn Court. Azriel and the rest of the Court of Dream believe he has ulterior motives, and they are correct - but these motives come as a surprise.

WARNINGS: Um. Misogyny. love that for us (i hate the autumn court). swearing (the f-word (as in fuck)), y/n has daddy issues (bc beron is a cunt) and uh... i haven't read acotar in ages so apologies for any OC characteristics and forgetting everything about the autumn court. but i did read HOFAS recently so hopefully az isn't too out of character. also tw: beron

NOTE: so obviously Y/n is the daughter of the autumn court. we know they have red hair BUT i want this to be as less oc as possible so y/n has your colour hair and u can make up ur own story about why but mine is that she's 'rebellious' (as you'll see later on) and just dyes her hair. also special thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for proofreading my work! i love you guys<3

WORDS: 2.7K

Azriel glowered at the male sat across from him. Eris either didn't notice or pretended he didn't care as he reclined in his chair, one arm over the back and looking for all the world he was in his own home, rather than the Court Of Nightmares.

"Eris," Rhys drawled, "if you have any information to help us with this meeting with your father, we would appreciate it immensely."

The High Lord of the Autumn Court had invited the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court to his castle for a week, as a gesture of good will, and an attempt to strengthen their bonds. Of course, the court was suspicious of the intent behind such actions. Although Azriel had sent his contacts in to find any sliver of information, his spies had come back empty-handed.

Eris rolled his shoulders, seemingly at ease despite being surrounded by the Night Court's most deadly warriors. "I am not entirely sure what he wants, but I assume it has something to do with my sister, Y/n."

Y/n, the only daughter of the High Lord of Autumn. She was quite young, by Fae standards – only seventy-nine. She had not fought in the war against Hybern, and had very little training according to Azriel's knowledge.

"Why her?" Feyre asked carefully.

Azriel heard the shift in her tone. She was wondering, as they all were, what Beron intended to do with her. The Autumn Court was just as backwards as the Court Of Nightmares, and females were considered little more than property. 

Eris simply shrugged, either not hearing the implications in the High Lady's tone, or simply not caring. "That is all I know, I'm afraid."

Cassian grunted, his eyes still on the heir to the Autumn throne. No one was particularly happy about the bargain they had struck with him, but he seemed to be a willing ally. For now.

"What can you tell us about her?" Feyre inquired.

Eris watched her for a moment, before responding, "She is… wild. Untamed, and unpredictable."

Despite his words, Azriel sensed a flicker of admiration in his tone. Azriel stored that piece of information away. It could be a weakness of Eris's, his sister. They may need to exploit it one day.

"Sounds like my kind of lady," Mor grinned.

The fact that Mor bothered speak in Eris's presence was a gift that the heir did not appreciate enough. Azriel glanced sidelong at her, noticing the way her unbound golden hair cascaded down her back, and the amount of skin her low-cut red dress revealed. Once, looking at her like that would have sent Azriel mad with longing. But after she had confided in him, after she had revealed she could never love him back because she preferred females… some part of him had been relieved to let her go.

Eris scoffed at Mor's comment. "Yes, well, she irritates my father to no end."

There was a silence, and Azriel wondered whether Y/n annoyed Eris as well, before Rhys sighed, "Well, if that's all, Eris, I'm sure you have places to be."

The dismissal was clear in the High Lord's tone, and Eris rose from his chair with a nod before leaving the council room. Everyone was silent as the male left, all eyeing each other. Feyre and Rhys were looking at each other, a clear indication of their telepathic conversation, and Azriel watched the two with a hint of jealousy. Of course he was happy from them – finding one's mate was one of the most fulfilling things one could experience. But he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for his own. It seemed he was the last of the court to find his mate, and he had a fear that he would never find them.

"Has anyone heard much about this Princess?" Cassian asked, looking towards Azriel.

Azriel shook his head. "She is one of the most guarded individuals in Prythian. My sources struggle to even see her."

"Very guarded indeed," Rhysand murmured.

The Court of Dreams debated between themselves the possibilities of what the High Lord of Autumn could want regarding his daughter. Azriel had a few of his own suspicions – to have her taken away, or perhaps trained in combat – but none of them seemed accurate. 

After a while of debating plausible explanations for Beron's offer, the court decided to head home to the City of Starlight in order to get a good night's rest before their meeting tomorrow. The High Lord and High Lady were going, as well as Cassian and Azriel. Morrigan was not permitted in the Autumn Court, so she would stay behind with Nesta to hold down the fort while they were gone. Amren would also be travelling to the Autumn Court, and although the monster she was no longer crawled beneath her skin, she made most people wary.

As he lay in his bed, Azriel couldn't help but wonder what awaited him tomorrow. He was curious about what the Autumn High Lord wanted, especially regarding his daughter, although he was also wary. Although Autumn had helped them in the war, they couldn't be trusted. Azriel fell into an uneasy sleep, cautious of the days to come.

Azriel awoke at dawn the next day. They weren't due in the Autumn Court until the evening, so Azriel decided to go through his morning exercises. The Valkyries weren't up yet, so he went through his warm ups, taking his shirt off halfway through. The morning was uneventful, and Azriel ran over the information they had in his head. Eris had suggested that Beron may be seeking a favour of some sort, so perhaps it had something to do with that.

The day passed by quickly, and soon enough, those travelling to the Autumn Court had gathered in the living room of the River House, just as they had planned. Azriel and Cassian wore their scaled, black armour, while Rhys and Feyre wore their finery. Rhysand held his mate's arm, and Azriel grabbed onto Cassian, before winnowing to the entrance of the Autumn Court castle.

It was big, and made of stone. It was quite majestic, if Azriel was being honest – high towers and red and orange flags waving in the wind, large windows showcasing rich carpets and tapestries inside.

Rhys led the way, Feyre on his arm and Cassian and Azriel following closely, and Amren trailing behind. Guards monitored them as they passed through the halls, their armour heavier the closer they got to the throne room. Azriel marked each one as they passed, something he was sure Cassian and Rhysand were also doing.

The doors to the throne room opened, and revealed the High Lord of the Autumn Court sat atop a dais, the Lady of Autumn seated beside him. Beron's sons stood on his left, and his daughter was seated to her mother's right.

Azriel paused at the sight of her. She was beautiful, even by Fae standards. Her h/c hair shone in the Fae light liming the walls, piled neatly on her head in a braid crown. Y/n’s e/c eyes sparked with mischief and curiosity, skimming over the members of Azriel's Court, until they finally landed on him. Her gaze was mesmerising, and Azriel couldn't find it in himself to break it. A small smirk played at the corners of her mouth, as if she were aware of the effect she had on him, although Azriel's mask of icy cold had not budged even an inch. Azriel quickly tore his eyes away from the Daughter of Autumn, marking the guards posted by the doors and the dais, and counting the weapons each of Beron's sons carried. 

"Beron," Rhysand purred, ever the arrogant High Lord, the mask back up despite the High Lords' meeting all those months ago. "So lovely to see you again. Thank you for inviting us to stay."

Beron rose from his dias and stalked towards the High Lord of the Night Court. Everyone tensed as he stepped closer and closer, and Azriel subtly reached for the dagger at his side. Beron's blood would spray across the marble floors the second Azriel suspected he would harm his High Lord or Lady. But Beron simply held his hand out, and Rhys gripped it tightly, his eyes holding a small amount of surprise.

"Rhysand. A pleasure to have you here," Beron replied. Azriel didn't miss the slight strain in his voice. "You must be hungry. Shall we?"

Beron inclined his head to the dining room and led the way with Rhysand and Feyre at his side. He hadn't even acknowledged the High Lady, something that made Azriel want to rip the male’s head off, but Rhys got there first.

“And what about my High Lady?” Rhys purred, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Beron’s smile faltered slightly, and he glanced at Feyre with a barely concealed look of distaste, as if he would rather rip off his own toenails than address a female with the same amount of respect that he would expect. Azriel felt a protective anger surge through him, and he watched carefully, curious as to what the High Lord’s next move would be.

“Of course,” Beron said, his voice dripping with fake courtesy. “My apologies, Lady Feyre. Of course it is wonderful to have you both visit.”

Cassian gave Azriel a look that said, And-what-about-us? Aren't-we-wonderful?

Azriel sent him a look back that said, Shut-the-fuck-up.

Beron led them all to the dining room, the Autumn colours present everywhere they looked. The chairs were all high-backed, and Azriel knew that Beron did not care if he and Cassian would be comfortable with their wings. Everyone took their seats — Beron at the head, Rhysand to his left, and Feyre beside him. Azriel sat next to his High Lady, Cassian taking his seat adjacent to the shadowsinger. The Lady of Autumn (still not a High Lady, despite the fact that Viviane was also now a High Lady) sat to Beron’s right, Eris beside her, and Y/n next to him, and across from Azriel. Azriel felt Y/n’s eyes on him, and he met her gaze. There was a curious look in her eyes, a look of anticipation mixed with mischief.

Dinner was served, an array of meats and vegetables placed on the table by servants, mostly lesser fairies. None of them looked Azriel in the eye, and he wondered if it was because they knew who and what he was, or if they’d been trained not to. Y/n, however, had no such qualms about this, and stared at the shadowsinger unabashedly.

Beron struck up a conversation with Rhys — small talk, something that Azriel internally cringed at, because it was definitely just to fill the silence. Ever the gracious guest, Rhysand responded in kind, although Azriel knew he was wondering what Beron’s ulterior motives were.

“How do your siphons work?”

The table went silent as Y/n spoke, her cunning eyes trained on Azriel. Beron looked at his daughter with a hint of irritation gleaming in his eyes, as if it was unacceptable for her to speak without permission. Azriel glanced at Rhysand, who was watching the daughter of Autumn with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

“How do you know that is what they are called?” Rhys asked, his eyes trained on the only daughter of Autumn.

She shrugged, and answered, “I read a lot in my spare time. I remember reading about the Illyrians, and their siphons. If I remember correctly, Illyrians tend to possess only one, yet the two of you hold several.”

“There is no need to question our guests, Y/n,” Beron scolded firmly.

Y/n frowned. “I was simply curious.”

“Do not speak back to me,” Beron reprimanded, a burning fury now evident in his eyes.

Y/n slumped back into her chair slightly and bowed her head. “My apologies, Father.”

Beron didn’t even acknowledge his daughter before he turned back to Rhys, as if her mere existence didn’t deserve another moment of his time. Azriel watched the female in front of him as she stared at her plate, and felt a sense of sympathy for her. Azriel owed her nothing — he did not know the female in front of him, did not know if she even deserved his sympathy — and yet he felt the need to protect, to wipe that blank expression off of her face.

“Our siphons act as a conduit for our raw power,” Azriel offered, causing Y/n to look up. Beron paused, glancing at the shadowsinger and the Autumn daughter, and Azriel continued, “It helps to control our magic, to make it precise and nimble, rather than a messy outburst of power.”

Cassian gaped at his brother, as if he had never heard that many words come out of Azriel’s mouth in one sitting. While that was an inaccurate statement, it was true that Azriel never tended to speak in front of new people. He wasn’t sure why he had done so anyway. But Y/n bowed her head in thanks at the information, perhaps still wary of answering and speaking without her father’s permission, but Azriel had observed a small, triumphant light in the female’s eyes at his reply.

Azriel watched as that gleam faded when Beron cleared his throat, gaining the attention from everyone in the room.

“There is a reason why I have asked you here,” Beron stated.

“Surprise, surprise,” Cassian muttered, and Azriel elbowed him.

Beron glanced at Cassian for all of a second before continuing, “There has been an attempt on my daughter’s life.” Stunned silence met Beron’s words, and Azriel caught Y/n rolling her eyes. That raised his suspicion — were Beron’s words false, or did she simply believe it was not an issue? “If it appeals to you,” Beron went on, “I seek to employ one of your Night Court warriors as her personal bodyguard.”

Rhys blinked once, his only sign of surprise. Beron looked at Rhys expectantly, and Azriel could have guessed the thoughts that flew around Rhys’s head.

“Why one of my warriors?” Rhys inquired carefully.

“I hoped it might help strengthen bonds between our courts,” Beron expressed.

Azriel watched the High Lord of the Autumn Court carefully. There seemed to be no ulterior motives hidden within his demeanour — he did not shift nervously, none of his facial features even so much as twitched.

“And say I agree to this,” Rhys said casually, “how long would you hold onto one of my warriors?”

“Until the threat against my daughter’s life is eliminated,” Beron answered.

There was silence for a few moments while everyone processed what was happening. Azriel looked at Eris to see the male’s eyes on his father. They were carefully guarded, a mask in place to ensure no one was able to discern what he was thinking. Azriel turned his gaze to Y/n, and a shadow slithered up by his ear.

She does not believe it to be such a serious matter, the shadow whispered. She wishes for this dinner to be over so she may go back to her quarters and finish her novel.

Azriel blinked in surprise at the information from his shadow. Usually, his shadows would tell him what others could not see and hear — but this felt almost like too much. Yes, his shadows had a tendency to recognise when someone was lying, or what weapons they were concealing, but to give him a person’s unvoiced opinion on a matter was something new.

But indeed, with her chin propped up on her delicate hand, and twirling her dessert fork in the other, she appeared to be completely disinterested. Azriel turned his gaze back to the male beside her, to see Eris already watching his sister. His eyes were cold and calculating as he regarded her, as if he was mentally playing out how this ‘bodyguard’ situation would go. With the slight frown tugging the corners of his lips downwards, Azriel assumed Eris did not believe it would end well.

“Please, do take time to come to a decision,” Beron offered. “I do understand this is a lot to ask.”

“We shall have an answer by the end of the week,” Rhys said with a nod.

Beron nodded back, and Azriel wondered what they were getting themselves into.

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[mother-above]

All the Time in the World

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel and his family are reminded that even fae don't have all the time in the world.

Warnings: fluff, angst, death, swearing, grief (this is my formal apology to you all)

*masterlist*

Everything happens for a reason.

Those are five words that people say to cope with and rationalize why bad or good things happen. Azriel, Rhysand, Cassian, Morrigan, and Amren are no strangers to those five words. They thought about it daily, sometimes it was their first thought after waking up. You were always in their dreams, sometimes frolicking in a meadow, they wouldn’t see your face, but they knew your body, the way your hair blew in the wind, how your arms were lifted so you could feel the sun's warmth. Sometimes you were the main character of their dreams, so vibrant and full of life. Tugging their hands to make them hurry up and keep up with you whether it was running errands in Velaris or on a mission.

The words “everything happens for a reason” would be whispered before they slept. They would go about their day and even if it were filled with love, happiness, and laughter there was that missing piece, a void that could never be filled.

You were an enigma. So powerful, so enchanting, that the nobles in Hewn City knew to keep you hidden away. But someone like you could never go unnoticed, especially when you could manipulate the elements. You’d been surrounded by earth and rock all your life and you just knew there was something more, you felt it when you touched the granite walls, the stone told you of the sun beating down and the wind and water that battered the outer layers of the mountain.

Fae with your powers could never live underground forever, the Court of Nightmares was a prison you were bound to escape. The nobles trained you like a warrior, Keir hoped to use you to usurp the High Lord, but Keir acted too late, your power had grown and could no longer be contained.

When Rhysand became High Lord, he caught wind of your presence, a flourishing beacon of power trapped underground. Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian took it upon themselves to investigate where this power was coming from. By the time they landed on the mountain, they were met by a female who paid no attention to the Illyrian warriors. Your head was thrown back as you savored the hot kiss of the sun for the first time in your life. Around you were granite rubble, and when they looked fifty feet to the right, there was a gaping hole that came straight from the depths of the mountain. You had dug yourself out and the Illyrians had no idea how.

Finally acknowledging the three brothers, you looked at the male with violet eyes. “They told me your name is Rhysand. That I have to kill you.”

Azriel and Cassian’s siphons flared as they drew their weapons and pointed them menacingly toward you.

That was the first time you met the young High Lord and his brothers. All it took was for Rhysand to read your unguarded mind to see what you are and how you’ve been raised. To Azriel and Cassian’s surprise, Rhysand invited you to live with them. Shortly after that, you were acquainted with Morrigan who you’ve seen around before, and this ancient creature named Amren. The six of you became a family that supported each other through thick and thin. Under their care, you developed your powers and were able to manipulate nature's elements in any way you could imagine.

Your type of power has never been seen before and you were dangerous only when you needed to be. Despite your rough upbringing, you were good, you were the sunshine that graced every room you entered. The only unstable part of you was how your moods could sway the environment around you, like the time that idiotic male cheated on you, and a volcano erupted in Illyria. On your 250th birthday, the inner circle threw you a surprise party and you were so happy, the next few days were unusually warm and sunny for the middle of winter. There was also that time Cassian pissed you off during training for pushing you too hard, a bolt of lightning and thunder cracked right about you. You don’t think you’ve heard Cassian scream on that pitch before.

One would think the High Lords of the other courts hated you, but they didn’t. Yes, you were a threat because you were another powerful individual who was loyal to Rhysand, but they couldn’t hate you, it was impossible to. Amren credited you for being the reason the other courts haven’t waged war on the Night Court, your presence was soothing, and you had a way to compromise like no other. You were such a good courtier that Beron tolerated you. It also didn’t help that your laughter was infectious, Thesan and Helion made sure you were invited to every big event.

You were accomplished, sociable, and a capable elemental manipulator but you always thought your greatest achievement was bringing Azriel out of his shell. At first, the shadowsinger was apprehensive about you living with them but that quickly changed, his shadows found you interesting and you coaxed him out of the shadows. In a way, he felt obligated to help you, all your life was spent in Hewn City and even then, you were more isolated than Morrigan. He knew you were stuck in the darkness, and he wanted to show you the light. At the time, he didn’t know he needed you more.

Azriel loved to replay the memory of taking you on your first flight tour of Velaris, you gripped his neck and shoulders as you shrieked in glee. He would never be able to forget how your scent overwhelmed him that day, pine and cherry blossoms forever embedded in his consciousness. He landed by the Sidra, and you leaped from his arms and headed straight to the water. You slipped your sandals off and dipped your toes into the cool water and a wide grin spread across your face.

“Azriel! Come here!”

He obliged, he found it difficult to say no to you. He stood by the bank and found comfort from the sound of rushing water. All was calm until water splashed his shirt, and his eyes snapped open to see you with a mischievous smile, perfect spheres of water floated above your hands. With a flick of your wrist, they collided with his body, the water making his black shirt stick onto his muscular torso. You had approximately 2 seconds to admire him before a large splash headed your way. Azriel grinned as he watched you stand there dumbstruck.

“Don’t start things you can’t finish,” smirked Azriel.

Then the water fight started and the two of you never gave up, it was elemental magic versus a strapping warrior. You called a truce and both of you walked to the townhouse dripping wet, Mor wouldn’t let you into the house till you stopped dripping so you and Azriel sat on the front steps and watched faeries of all kinds pass by. Azriel caught himself smiling at you whenever you talked, he felt safe with you, like you would never judge him for his scars or dark past. He found it easy to talk to you, you never pressured him to talk like his brothers and Mor would do. Sometimes one glance was all it took for you to understand what he needed.

The two of you danced around each other for decades, neither of you brave enough to take the next step. You saw Rhysand and Cassian as your brothers but when it came to Azriel, it felt different, there was unspoken tension, a different love that ran deep and made you blush. Every time he brought a female home, jealousy filled you and the clouds became grey and stormy. Azriel felt the same way when you started dating, no one ever stuck for more than a few months, but he hated every single one of the males, they would never be good enough for you. What stung the most was Azriel didn’t think he was good enough for you either.

One day, you and Morrigan were sitting at the table having breakfast. She remembers this day so clearly because she had never seen you blush that color red. Azriel stopped by to eat a banana before training, Morrigan watched you not so discreetly check Azriel out in his Illyrian leathers. When he was done eating, Azriel threw you a wink before he bounded up the stairs to the training ring.

“Have you guys fucked yet?”

You choked on the yogurt causing you to have a coughing fit. “Mor!” you hissed. “Why would you ask that?”

“The two of you work well together, you understand each other.”

You shrugged as you drank water. “He’s my best friend, how else am I supposed to act around him?”

Mor looked at you incredulously. “Do best friends check each other out? Give each other massages after a long mission? Lay their heads on each other’s laps when they read? Kiss each other on the cheek constantly? Fall asleep together on the couch? Do they-”

“Okay!” you exclaimed. “You’ve made your point!”

Your cheeks and ears were cherry red, they burned as you stared at your breakfast.

“The two of you are single right now. I think you should tell him how you feel. Azriel… is Azriel, I think he’s too scared to make the first move, he’s always been more insecure,” said Mor.

“What if he says no and I ruin our entire relationship?”

Mor looked at your beautiful features and softly laughed. “He would be lying to himself.”

One week later, you finally had the courage to talk to Azriel about your feelings. He was standing on the balcony nursing a glass of whiskey, staring at the storm clouds in the distance. You leaned against the railing and looked at him, your heart pounding.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s full attention was on you, his eyes scanning for anything amiss.

You breathed deeply and fully turned to him. “Azriel… you’re my best friend and I wouldn’t want to change a thing, but I want more and… I think you do too.”

Azriel stared at you, his eyes wide as he tried to convince himself that this wasn’t a dream.

“Oh gods. You don’t feel the same way and I just ruined everything, haven’t I?” Your hands covered your face as you spun around to make a run for it.

Scarred hands clamped down on your shoulders and moved you to face him. Gently peeling your hands away from your cherry-red face, he smiled as his hands cupped your cheek. “You didn’t give me time to process.”

Your lips parted in shock. “So you want more?”

Azriel leaned closer to you, his breath blowing across your face. “I want to be with you.”

Going on your toes, you met him halfway. He remembered how soft your lips were, how you tasted like the wine you had been drinking to gather your courage. Your arms wound around his neck to you pulled him in closer, his large hands grabbed your waist and lifted you to sit on the railing.

A giggle stopped him from kissing you. “I might fall!”

Azriel’s arms wrapped around your body. “Then I’ll catch you.”

You beamed at him and Azriel’s heart felt full, you were the light he had been chasing all his life. He pressed his lips against yours and you melted against him, a small moan of contentment escaped your lips and Azriel grinned. He needed to hear that sound from you again.

“Ahem.”

You leaned to the side to see Amren smirking at the two of you. “Fucking finally. I thought we’d have to wait two hundred more years for this to happen.”

Azriel growled. “Is there a reason why you’re interrupting us?”

“Kallias sent out a distress message, I don’t know what kind of emergency so be prepared for anything. We leave in 5 minutes.”

Azriel let out a frustrated sigh and laid his head on your shoulder. “Such bad timing.”

Your fingers went to stroke the hairs on the nape of his neck. “I know,” you purred. “We can finish this when we get back. We’ll talk more about our future, what we want, what our boundaries are.”

Azriel lifted himself and looked in your gaze, so warm and full of life. The pad of his thumb ran over your bottom lip and that’s when he felt it. That golden thread unraveled itself and snapped into place. He was startled as he looked at you, your features oblivious to the mate bond.

He blinked as he realized it had yet to snap for you. You looked at him with so much adoration that for once in his life, he didn’t doubt your feelings. “Nothing,” he said as he pecked your cheek and helped you down from the railing. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Okay, we have all the time in the world,” you said as you tugged his arm to get ready.

How the enemy was able to transport a Middengard worm to Winter Court still made faeries scratch their heads to this day. There were also enemy soldiers to worry about, but Rhysand ordered you to help with the monster. According to Rhysand, it was the largest he had ever seen, and its skin was thick and impenetrable. It was getting closer to the city and no matter what the courts shot at it, it never faltered. You joined Kallias and the other fae with ice-manipulation powers to do anything to get the worm away from the city. You slammed a foot down onto the ground and the frozen earth shot upwards hundreds of feet into the sky, creating a barrier for the city.

Kallias grinned at you, and you threw him a wink, you loved using your powers. Running full force toward the worm, you conjured large razor-sharp spears from the snow and made them jut out in the ground in hopes the Middengard would impale itself. It turned out you all severely underestimated the creature, it grew in height and then slammed itself onto the earth allowing it to burrow and move underground. Your jaw dropped in horror as it quickly made its way to the city, the wall you built would not be able to withstand its power. You looked at the gleaming lights of the city and your heart dropped. There were millions of faeries in danger.

Your mind whirred as you looked at all your options and the only thing you could think of didn’t look too good for you.

Rhysand could still remember the panic he felt when his Daemati talons slammed against your thoughts. You were so concentrated; your mental walls were down.

Please don’t do that. It’s too dangerous. There must be another way!

Rhysand’s fae sight let him see your soft smile, your eyes already lined with silver tears.

That’s a whole city, Rhys. you would do the same. Thank you for everything. Tell Azriel I love him.

Rhysand started screaming your name but that didn’t stop you from sprinting toward the Middengard and getting as close as you could. The moment you were above the worm, you let out a strangled scream as you let out every ounce of your power. Your arms were lifted and when your hands tightened into fists, the earth around you and the Middengard caved inwards. The giant earth wall that blocked the city crumbled down as you used all the materials available to bury yourself and the Middengard into the depths of Hel.

Kallias will never forget the sounds of your family screaming for you, he could still hear it in his nightmares. He remembered Morrigan throwing up and the spymaster dumbfoundedly staring into the soil you disappeared in.

***

They never recovered your body. It was too deep into the earth; the High Lords couldn’t even sense the Middengard worm. Rhysand built a beautiful memorial for you by the edge of the city, upon Azriel’s request, he made sure it was placed near the Sidra.

The inner circle was destroyed by your death. Amren had stayed behind to guard Velaris, so she was the last one to find out. No one had ever seen Amren cry but when her family winnowed in without you looking shaken and pale, she crumpled onto the floor and let out a wail that shook the townhouse.

Everything had turned upside down, it rained for a whole month, and it certainly helped no one's mood. The day you died became a court holiday, the people of Velaris mourned you, even some in Illyria and Hewn City. Every year on your death anniversary, the High Lords came to visit your memorial, they brought flowers or expensive bottles of wine that you liked. Beron never showed up, but he always sent a courtier to deliver an extravagant wreath made of autumnal flowers and red and orange leaves. You had once complimented the russet dahlias that lined his estate and he never forgot about it.

Every time Azriel opened his eyes in the morning, he wished for sleep because, in his dreams, you were still alive. Your favorite phrase in the world was “Everything happens for a reason”, it helped you cope with your childhood and the inner circle had adopted it as their mantra. Azriel hated it. He refused to believe that what happened to you was written in the stars. He hated that you had to sacrifice yourself. Why you? Why his mate? He had loved you for so long yet so much time was wasted on others when they could have been together. The pain he felt when the golden thread disappeared was unlike anything he had felt before. Azriel thought he was dead until he saw the earth cave in with you in the middle of it. His shadows were screaming but he was numb, he couldn’t believe you were gone just like that.

Azriel swore the birds had stopped singing in Velaris, his family thought he was crazy but then they noticed it too. There were these songbirds that sang every morning and if you heard it, you whistled back and they’d respond. It was like the natural world knew you were gone. Life without you was duller, the stars didn’t shine as brightly, and the sky wasn’t as blue as it used to be.

Like most things, time was the only remedy. With each year that passed, the pain slowly became bearable. Azriel was encouraged to see other people after a hundred years had passed but nothing went past the first date, no one was ever going to compare to you. He couldn’t touch another female without feeling sick.

The inner circle had gone through so much since you passed, and like clockwork, Cassian went to your memorial to sit and give you updates every week.

 ‘Rhys was stuck Under The Mountain. Azriel was being a pain in the ass about going to Illyria. Rhys came back from Under The Mountain. Azriel misses you. Rhys found his mate but she’s with Tamlin. Feyre threw a shoe at Rhysand. He met Feyre’s sisters. We miss you. A war with Hybern was coming. Cassian suspected he was mates with Nesta Archeron. The High Lords are having a meeting and we all wish you could be there to contain everyone. I was forced to see Bryaxis, again.’

Sometimes Cassian came with other members of the family but most of the time, it was just him talking to you. One day, Rhysand brought Feyre to your memorial, and she gasped at how beautiful it was. Using his Daemati powers, he showed his mate his most precious memories of you. Feyre squeezed Rhy’s hand and admired all the fresh flowers and gifts that were placed around.

“She was so beautiful and so kind-hearted. I wish I met her.”

“Me too,” he whispered. “You would have loved her.”

The war with Hybern was brutal. If you were still there, you would have tipped the scale and Prythian would have been winning from the get-go. Amren had to unbind herself from her body to save everyone, she was scared in her last few moments but then remembered how selfless and brave you were. The war was over but then Rhysand passed as well, sacrificing himself for the greater good, your last words to him ringing in his ears.

Feyre begged the High Lords to revive her mate and they did, her anguish reminding them of the loss they all felt when a certain Night Court member had passed. With Rhysand alive, he nodded toward the Cauldron, telling them that Amren was there too. Morrigan and Varian fished her out and Amren came out sputtering and desperately trying to gain control of her body. She kept coughing up water, so she furiously pointed to the Cauldron.

“What is it?” cried out Morrigan.

Silver tears started streaming down Amren’s face as she attempted to crawl. “I saw her, she’sin there!” she said desperately. “Get her out before she drowns!”

Every faerie looked at her like she was crazy. Who else would be in there?

Her head swiveled around until she locked into Azriel’s gaze. “She is in there.”

Azriel’s legs carried him toward the Cauldron and not a second later, Morrigan joined him as they blindly reached in. Morrigan started swearing as she felt a limp arm in there, finding the torso, Azriel helped heave the body out of the Cauldron. The female's body thrashed as she coughed out all the water she had swallowed. The High Lords and their courts burst into chaos when Azriel brushed the female’s hair off of her face.

Still dressed in Illyrian leathers, there you lay sprawled and gasping for air.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Call me pathetic but I made myself tear up writing this lmaooo. Should I do a part 2? Please let me know what you think in the comments!

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

Pick Your Romance Starter- Dark Fae Addition

Plot/Story: Oh no, you've fallen into the Fae Realm through a circle of mushrooms. How convenient, I mean inconvenient! And look, there's some hot Fae men wanting you're attention...how so very clique. But they're not all flowers and sunshine. That would be too damn easy, wouldn't it?

Warnings: Dark Fae, slight non-con touch, blood, 10k words

Notes: The dry-spell has finally worn off and I present to you a little morsel of writing.

Poll is 'here' (Patreon) and here (Tumblr)to choose which character is written for first!

Poll has been finished! Hezirus got the pick. Here is another poll to choose what type of spicey story you want with him.

This is all based on a world built together with a friend. The characters are OCs of mine we play with and use in our stories together. And for your amusement, and torture for my friend, I have started a series where you pick which one I write for first.

This will be a heavy female x male character story. I apologize to my MxM and FxF readers. But I do plan on making these three fuck eventually. Just because it's fun. 

And by all means, give me ideas and feedback. I crave the attention!

Enjoy!

The sharp iron-like smell filled your senses and you felt yourself falling. The warm night air turned bitterly cold and the light from the street disappeared into a wall of black. You blinked. The wind whooshing around you was as loud as a hurricane; before your feet slammed onto stone and you stumbled into something hard and cold. And everything went unnaturally quiet.

You opened your eyes. Blinking rapidly to remove the haziness from your vision as you reached out, calling for your friend. It was dark. Too dark for your eyes just yet.

Your fingers found the cold bars of something circling you. Your hand followed it until you pushed away and stood on your own two feet. Swaying a little, the alcohol still affected your body even as the adrenaline coursed through you.

Finally, after some more blinking and squinting into the dark, your eyes adjusted. And horror filled your stomach as you looked around you.

You were in a cage. An iron cage in the center of a dark room. The floor, the pillars, the walls, all made from gray, smoothed stone. Dust layered the ground like a blanket around your small prison. And thick, but empty, cobwebs lined the corners of the room.

It didn’t look like anyone had been in here for…a very long time.

Your eyes caught the faintest touch of blue light on the floor and you looked down. Finding a glowing ring of sigils carved into the floor, fully encircling your cage. And everytime you moved, the strange letters pulsed with energy and that sharp smell filled your nose once more.

Something in you whispered that it was the same diameter of the mushroom circle you had jumped into… And with that thought, horror filled you. It had happened. It actually…worked. But not in the way you expected.

You don’t know how long you stood in that cage for, calling out into the darkness. It was long enough that the effects of tonight's drinks had worn off and the feeling of dehydration was starting to kick in.

The cold of the room settled on your skin like ice. And you tried to huddle up as much as you could, trying to preserve as much body heat as possible. But the cold iron and the freezing stone was sapping away at your warmth like a hungry beast.

Eventually, just as you started to think you’d be in this dark room forever, a door opened. One you didn’t see at the far end of the room that spilled bright, warm sunlight into the shadows. Making the twilight scatter and your eyes hurt from the blinding rays.

“Well, well, well, I thought all my little traps had been sealed off.” A velvety voice echoed from the doorway. The very sound settled on your skin like the breeze of an autumn afternoon. “What a surprise, indeed.”

Something shifted to your right but when you looked, only darkness stared back. Hiding behind a stone pillar, escaping the bright morning light.

You blinked until the sunlight stopped blinding you and the stranger approached. His boots echoed in the empty room as he closed the distance. His face silhouetted by the soft glow of the blue circle at his feet.

He was handsome. Very handsome. The type of handsome you would take a second glance at because you weren’t sure if your brain properly processed his face. His hair was a slight mess, a dark but silky tangle of blonde and deep brown. Matching a gaze that was fixed, but curious. And you felt every inch of your skin alight with a cold fire when those copper coloured eyes raked over your body. Not an inch of you was left untouched by his gaze. And it left you a little breathless when he smiled.

But your mind was racing. A voice deep within your mind was telling you to run. To hide. Get away from this man and never look back.

“What’s your name, sweet thing?” The man asked. The softest curl of a smirk twitching the corner of his lips.

But you didn’t give it. You weren’t stupid. And you remembered what happened. You jumped into a ring of mushrooms and suddenly you were falling. Even if you could blame this on a drunken dream, you still didn’t give this man your name.

When you didn’t reply, the smirk stretched fully across the stranger's face. “Ah, so you’re smart. That’s cute. I haven’t had a smart one in a long time. Come along, then. Let’s get you cleaned up. You’re exactly what I need to make up for my little blunder last night.”

The cage groaned around you and three of the metal bars slid into the ground. Allowing you a doorway to step out of your small prison and into the stream of light from the door.

The stranger didn’t look at you as he led the way out of the cold stone room. But still addressed you as you stepped out into the light. “My apologies for leaving you in that cold room all night. We had a little…accident, and I was busy until this morning.”

The man led you into a long corridor of more stone. Though the temperature was vastly more welcoming than the room, it was just as empty and just as dusty. You passed many doors like the one from where you landed. Some were left open, revealing more empty areas with a single cage. Others were closed but something dark marked the metal entryway. It looked suspiciously like old blood.

If this stranger saw you staring, he didn’t give any move to answer your unspoken questions. He led you up a spiraling staircase and a door of heavy carved wood and granite, creaked open before he touched it. Opening up into a sprawling room of many desks and shelves and cabinets.

“Clean her.” The stranger said. And from beneath the desks, dark tendrils launched towards you. Black, clawed hands wrapped around your wrists and ankles. Icy cold fingers latched onto your throat, squeezing just enough to silence the scream of fright from your lungs. Iron strength yanked you forward, making your attempts at fleeing fruitless as you were dragged towards a large basin.

More arms of shadows rose from the stone floor and you watched as steaming hot water was poured into the tub. Buckets of water manifesting from darkness and then disappearing when dropped to the floor.

You didn’t get to take a breath before you were lifted and then dumped into the basin. Hot water burned your skin and drenched your clothes. You gasped for air, but a cold hand slammed your head back under the water and you felt harsh bristles scrape over your bare skin. Something sweet smelling poured onto your hair as your head was yanked back out of the water for a brief moment

You coughed and spluttered, barely getting a breath in before you were dunked back into the water.

Your clothes were torn away. Despite your best effort to keep them against your skin, the material ripped apart under the strength of these shadowy limps. You wrapped your arms around your chest, obscuring the man’s beautiful gaze from seeing too much.

His smile was too sweet. Too wide as you were finally released and you turned your back to him. Your skin burned from the brush and soap. Your hair felt silky and smelled like a field of freshly bloomed flowers. But you were completely bare in front of him.

“That’s much better.” The man said. Leaning against a desk nearby. His molten gaze took in every inch of you before he waved his hand and a shadow presented him with a dress. “Wear this. It suits you much better than…whatever else you were wearing.”

When you didn’t get out of the tub, the man sighed and rolled his eyes. Then he turned around so he was leaning against the desk with his palms on the surface of the table. “I won’t look. Go on, try it on.”

You hesitated. But already the water was starting to get cold and you couldn’t sit in here forever. Curled up and shivering. You sighed heavily and carefully slipped out of the water.

Another shadow appeared beside you with a towel. But it didn’t allow you to take it. Instead, it dried you off, harshly rubbing the soft material against your body until your skin felt sore from the material. But dry.

You grumbled a curse towards the man and snatched the dress from the floating shadow.

Surprisingly, the man kept his word and didn’t turn around. Until you were in the dress and staring down at yourself in horror.

The material was thin…extremely thin… You might as well stand in front of him naked without the gentle glimmer of the sparkly dress. And it was very tight. You could see every curve of your breasts and hips, down to your thighs before the dress spilled out around your feet like a bronze ink spill. The only saving grace to this material was that it darkened around your chest and lower center. Refusing to give a full, clean picture of your body that was hidden beneath the dress.

It didn’t stop the perked peaks of your nipples from the cold air. And the stranger hummed a low sound in his throat as he adjusted the sleeve of the dress and picked at some imaginary lint on your waist.

“Much, much better.” The man said. He started to circle you. His eyes scraped over your body as you stood frozen under his gaze. He picked at the dress and the shadows appeared with trinkets and jeweled chains. Your wrists were wrapped in silk and your neck was decorated by a thin, delicate silver chain with topaz stones resting warmly against your neck. A belt of lace loosely circled your hips and your cheeks were assaulted by a dusting of red. Giving you a small blush before cold hands grabbed your face and the man stepped closer.

His forefinger lengthened, growing a black claw that came to a dangerously pointed tip. And you tried to yank yourself away from him but the shadows held you firmly in place. You could only watch in growing horror as the dark talon descended towards your eye…and cautiously drew a line along your upper lashes. Then the man delicately did the same on the other. Giving you a perfect dark eye-liner flick.

The man then stood back. His other hand held your chin as he tilted your face back and forth, admiring the touches he did to you. The shadows relaxed when you did. And you allowed this stranger to do what he wished with your face.

“What’s your name?” You asked him. Finding this close proximity with the handsome face was filling your chest with sharp flutters. You could see the finer details. The sharp, pointed ears. The tattoos under the collar of his shirt and the dusting of gold along his face. Perhaps a decorative choice?

“Jackal Borcalas, Royal Archivist and Spy Master of the Wilds” His smile was predatory. Proud. Cocky. As if the widening of your eyes gave him a sense of smugness. “But Jackal is fine, sweet thing. And yours?”

He said it so casually you almost willingly gave it to him. Like carrying on a normal conversation. But you clapped your mouth shut and glared up at Jackal. Rewarding yourself with a laugh from the Spy Master.

“Ah, well, you can’t blame a man for trying.” Jackal said, shrugging. Then his hands moved from your face down to your body. Adjusting chains and bracelets and anything else the shadows had placed on you.

But you found his hand barely touched you. His fingers brushed over your hips but didn’t linger for too long. The pads of his fingers glossed over your perked nipples but his eyes didn’t stray any longer than they needed. His attention was too focused on his task that you doubted he even knew where he was touching.

“Gorgeous.” Jackal purred. And despite the hungry look in his eyes, you sensed the genuine compliment behind his words. Or was that just a…Fae thing to get you comfortable around him. “Now, a few things before I throw you to the wolves.”

You felt the blood drain from your face with his words. And that wicked smile returned, alongside the cold touch of shadows as they wrapped around your legs and started moving them. You felt like a doll on strings, puppeteered after Jackal as he turned and exited the room.

Your captor led you into more corridors and halls. Many stone steps and coloured glass windows that bathed you in greens and golds and bronze. You didn’t get to look around. The shadows had you transfixed on watching Jackal’s back as he walked through…wherever you were.

“If you want to live through the day, you will follow these rules to the absolute letter. Do not look directly into his eyes. He gets…crabby when you do it for too long. And keep your hands off of him unless he places them somewhere. He doesn’t like to be touched. Do not turn your back on him unless he tells you to do so, and for the love of the Moon, do not touch his horns. Just…keep your hands to yourself unless you’re ordered otherwise.” Jackal said all this while he led you towards a massive metal door. The shadows relieved their hold just enough that you could finally look around you. But your gaze was transfixed on the entrance before you.

Towering above you was a grotesque, twisted display of melted weapons and armor. Swords Maces Axes Shields Any and all kinds had been liquified against the doors. You spotted helmets and chest plates carved through with spears. All dented, all worn, from battle.

“Oh, and also, for my later entertainment, keep yourself alive.” Jackal whispered, looking over your shoulder at him. “We haven’t had a human here in…centuries. So try to make your stay last a little longer than a few minutes.”

With a wave of Jackal’s hand, the war-torn doors opened with an ear-clawing sound of metal on the stone floor.

A blast of heat slammed into you as a voice as deep as thunder growled from within a dimly lit room. “What do you want, snake?” Your very bones vibrated with the voice. And a knot of fear coiled in your stomach as Jackal entered the room.

The shadows had you follow him and you entered a room that was more like a throne room. It was a vast space of furs and blankets. Blazing fires were cradled in braziers along the walls and candles flickered on hanging chandeliers made of bone and skulls. The scent of sulfur and burning meat filled your nose and you tried not to gag as you passed a body laying on the floor. Three deep gashes tore up the person’s back and blood pooled around their limp body. Their face twisted in agony and terror.

Jackal didn’t even look at it. He continued to stroll into the heated room towards a pile of furs and hides.

“I brought you a gift.” Jackal said. His voice echoing in the massive room. Mixing with the heavy breathing of something huge in front of you. The shadows didn’t let you go. They kept you firmly in place behind Jackal.

Something sniffed the air. And you felt the very air around you shift with each deep breath. You started shaking as the tiled floor trembled. The blast of heat came closer and closer. The heat in the room roared and you felt like your arms were being scorched by a blazing fire. Your ears popped and the tremble through the floor halted, but you heard the distinct sound of bare feet stepping over tile towards you.

And then Jackal stepped to the side and you were suddenly staring at a broad chest of muscle and scales.

The shadows released your head. Allowing you to look up, almost craning your neck all the way back, to meet a burning red gaze of a man. He was massive, much taller than 6ft and broad, rippling with muscle. Scars streaked across his arms and chest, giving a stark pale contrast to his dark complexion. A creature of war and battle.

But what was more terrifying was the plating of black scales that protruded from his dark skin. Horns swept out from atop his head. Splitting apart thick, shiny black hair that was braided amongst the crown of thick spikes. And his gaze was heavy. Watching. Calculating.

Jackal tsked harshly and you quickly dropped your eyes. Remembering what Jackal had said only moments before.

The man in front of you growled, a deep rumble that rippled through you like thunder. “A human?” A voice of stone sounded surprised. And you flinched when a massive hand wrapped around your waist, his fingers almost completely encircling your hips, and yanked you closer.

Black scales filled your vision as the man buried his nose into your hair. You felt him take a deep breath and the growl turned into something like a broken purr as the man laughed a cynical chuckle. “Is this your way of saying sorry, snake?” The scaled man snapped at Jackal. Releasing you before stalking over to the much smaller man.

Despite their size difference, and the display of bared teeth from the other man, Jackal remained perfectly calm. His hands resting behind his back as if he was having a casual conversation with someone.

“This is my way of mending my mistake.” Jackal replied slowly. “Hezirus will want her for himself. But I thought you should get some time with her before she’s claimed entirely. I thought it would be a nice…treat, Maahes, from me to you. From a friend.”

That word brought a snarl out of Maahes. Like he didn’t like how it sounded coming out of Jackal’s mouth. “Watch it, snake. You almost cost me my territory last night. A morsel won’t make up for that blunder.”

“Then let it be the start of my amendment to you.” Jackal titled his chin down in a submissive display. And whatever rage Maahes had, seemed to melt away. You felt the sharp tang of something hit your nose and suddenly the beast in front of you roared.

Claws raked through the marble pillar where Jackal had been standing moments before. Then you felt the shadows retreat and Jackal was standing in the doorway behind you. An amused smile across his lips

Maahes roared again, crimson eyes glowing with a surge of anger. “Keep your filthy magic out of my head!”

The doors slammed closed with a thunderous bang as Jackal laughed. Leaving you alone with a creature that was practically shaking with rage.

Your eyes swooped to the floor when the beast looked at you. You heard the click of claws as he approached. Two dark tree trunks entered your view and you realized he was standing right in front of you. He at least wasn’t naked, wearing a loose pair of dark trousers. But the thin dress did very little to make you feel protected at this moment.

“What is your name?” Maahes asked. You didn’t respond, cowering in front of him. The beast snarled and a rough grip wrapped around the underside of your jaw and forced you to look up at him. You kept your gaze from staring into the pools of rubies, looking at the scar that carved down his neck and to his collarbone. “I am not a Fairy, sweet morsel. I won’t use your name against you. What do I call you?”

You felt him lift you a little. Until you were standing on your tiptoes to stop him from choking you. “(y/n)” You managed to say. And the grip released you.

“Get me a drink, (y/n).” Your name rolled on his tongue like he was tasting you through those words. It sounded awfully sinful to hear it. And you quickly hurried over to the table by the dead body. Where an array of goblets and bottles were laid out. You choose the largest cup and fill it with an amber liquid. You had to carry it with both hands to ensure it didn’t spill and didn’t strain one arm too much. Hurrying back to Maahes, who had returned to lounge on the pile of furs. Which even his massive frame seemed to be swallowed by the vast mattress of pelts.

The beast rumbled. But it wasn’t an aggressive sound. You almost thought he sounded pleased as you carefully climbed onto the furs and offered him the wine. He took the cup from your hands. And as he pressed the wine to his lips, his free hand lashed out and took purchase of your hips before you attempted to step away.

You couldn’t fight him. The amount of strength beneath those fingers alone was enough to pull you towards him with barely any effort.

You found yourself flush against his side. His scales, rough and jagged, pushed painfully against your soft skin. And once you were positioned how he wanted, the hand moved down to cup your ass. His talons caught on the material of your dress as he squeezed hard. Making you wince a little.

“How did the snake manage to catch you?” Maahes asked. Placing his cup precariously on a position of the bed as he moved so he was on top of you. His nose scraped against your neck and you felt his teeth playfully pull at the silver chain around your throat. “Trapping humans was outlawed centuries ago. Did he say some pretty words and you were suddenly here? Or did you fall through a mirror?”

His words were surprisingly teasing for how rough his hands were on your body. The pads of his fingers were calloused and coarse, sweeping along your thighs before moving you so he could settle between your legs. He was massive above you. Obscuring the ceiling and bone chandeliers with his mass.

You explained what happened. Recalling the ring of mushrooms on the side of the walkway on your way home. The stupid decision to test fate and jump into the circle. Laughing, thinking nothing would come of it. And then accidentally said ‘we’ jumped in, and those crimson eyes pulsed intensely.

“There’s two of you?” Maahes asked. Glancing at the door as if Jackal was about to come through it again with another person. You said you didn’t see your friend in the cage and the man shrugged. Returning his mouth to the hollow of your neck. His lips sending goosebumps along your skin as his hot breath bathed along your chest.

It was a long moment of licking and hard nips along your neck before Maahes changed position. Burying his face against your breasts. Even through the dress, you could feel his mouth hungrily take in your left nipple and rake his tongue over the peak.

“No matter. I’ll feast on you first before I worry about someone else's pet.” You felt him shift against you and something huge and hard pressed against your clothed core. Then Maahes raised his mouth and a burning hot tongue seared along your neck, carrying the smell of wine and meat along your flesh, up to your cheek before your lips were harshly trapped between Maahes’.

Your struggling only seemed to amuse Maahes. As you tried to push him off and twist away from him. But just as he forced your lips open with his tongue, the doors to the room blasted open in a cold gust of wind. The flames around you simmered out under the gust and the chandeliers swung wildly above you.

Maahes growled and tore his mouth from yours. He poised above you like a beast protecting a kill. Thick arms caging you against the bed as the sound of his snarl ripped through you. You could feel the vibrations through your core, from where his covered bulge was firmly pressed against your core.

You turned your head, peering around Maahes’ arms to see a gorgeous man standing in the streaming sunlight. Like an angel, wings of bronze and gold framed his tall figure and a thick set of arms were crossed over his chest. Lines crinkled his perfect brow and long chocolate brown hair was kept away from his face by a gold crown of gnarled vines and flowers.

“Maahes,” The man said the beast’s name like a warning. But his tone was playful, teasing. “What have you got there?”

Maahes’ snarl crumbled into a softer sound. But he didn’t move from atop of you. His talons ripped into the furs as his hands turned to fists beside your body. “She’s mine.”

“Not anymore she isn’t.” The angel said. Stepping into the dark room, closer to the creature that was bent low over your frozen body. “I caught her scent on my way to breakfast. I don’t know how Jackal got her, but she’s a guest in my palace. I won’t have you break her on her first morning here.”

Soft, bronze eyes fell upon you and his smile softened. But those warning bells in your head were singing again. Even more so than they had with Jackal. “Give her to me, Maahes.” The man said, his wings opening a touch to make him seem so much bigger than he was. “I won’t ask again.”

The beast above you growled deep and threatening. You braced for something to happen. Another gust of wind. A fist. Claws. Something.

But then the heavy, hot weight of Maahes disappeared as he crawled off of you. And you scrambled off the bed to stand beside the winged man. Hiding behind him as his wing opened to protect you from Maahes’ heated gaze. “Good boy.” The crowned stranger said. A very careful smile placed over his lips. “Do not let me catch you playing with her again.”

Maahes’ gaze lowered to the furs. But you could see the tension in his body and the thick, throbbing vein that was protruding from his neck. He bowed. “Yes, Prince Hezirus.”

That seemed to be enough for the…prince. And he turned, his wing shifting to envelope you in a warm embrace against your back and guiding you out of the room.

The heavy doors slammed shut behind you both. And the wings of the prince moved to lazily return to his back. A different type of heat simmered in his gaze when the prince turned to you. A striking difference from the softness he offered you before. “Now, human, you will tell me how you got here. And why you’re…dressed the way you are.” Despite the quizzical tone, Prince Hezirus’ eyes were just as hungry and heavy as Jackal’s when you first got dressed. You instinctively tried to cover yourself but a narrowed glare from the person in front of you made you halt.

Your arms dropped to your sides as you explained everything. But this time, you kept the ‘we’ out of it. Only insinuating that you alone jumped into the very obvious Fae trap.

“But you know our customs,” The prince hummed. Tilting his head like how a dog did when it was intrigued by something. “You won’t give me your name. You even called the circle a trap. So…you knew what it was.”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. The drunken stupor of a joke was now very obviously a suicide sentence. “I didn’t think it would work.” You argued. “I was…drunk.”

“Superstition has kept your people alive longer than you’d think. You should start listening to your fable stories, there’s a reason they exist.” The prince began walking and you hurried to follow. The tall man, possibly as tall as the beast on the furs, didn’t shorten his strides to let you keep up. Instead, you had to fasten your steps to almost jog alongside him.

“Where am I?” You asked. Finally looking at your surroundings. There were large paintings that covered the towering walls. The ceiling looked like marble with many hanging candles and torches to illuminate what the sun couldn’t. Massive glass windows bathed your walk with the prince in color. But at least this time you could see the shapes of beasts and battles and fields of flowers as you passed them.

It was all very beautiful.

“You’re in the Fae Wilds. My kingdom.” The prince replied. His chin tilted up with pride as he spoke. “I am Prince Hezirus of the Wilds. Son of Queen Melusine, the Lady of the Forest. You’re in my palace in the deepest forest of our kingdom. My…holiday home, I guess you would call it.”

You stalled for a moment to peek through one of the windows. Spying the grounds of the estate that sprawled out in grassy knolls and flowing creeks that sliced through lush gardens and tumbled through the gnarled roots of mountainous trees.

There were people working in the gardens and some walked the earthy paths through the estate. Someone even started flying into the branches of a nearby tree. With wings like an insect.

A soft cough from the prince made you turn. Finding him standing by the cliff of a long stairwell that led down and into the center of the palace. You quickly hurried back to his side and started descending next to him.

“It’s beautiful.” You said. Unable to keep your eyes on one thing at a time. A man walked past you both, bowing deeply to the prince before walking briskly away. His features reminded you of a rat.

“Thank you. But you will have time to see everything soon. I want you to join me for breakfast.” The prince said. And you followed him down a corridor and into a grand hall. A long table was presented before you. Its surface was chock-full of plates and bowls of food. All steaming, like the dishes had just come out of the oven.

At the end of the table sat a beautifully crafted chair of twisted roots and vines. The cushions looked as soft as clouds and a plate of sourdough bread, bathed in eggs and bacon with a drizzle of white sauce, was sitting awaiting the prince.

Hezirus waved his hand and a chair pulled itself from the table next to the prince. And Hezirus gestured for you to sit, before he flicked his hand and the chair pushed you snugly against the table. A plate was placed in front of you by an owl-faced woman and the prince seated himself in his chair.

Leaning his cheek on his fist, propped up by his elbow on the table, he watched you curiously. “Please, eat. Enjoy.”

The smells of everything laid out in front of you was maddening. Your stomach twisted in hunger and the slight hangover that had plagued you with a headache, wished for water. But you didn’t reach for any of it. And watched the prince take his gaze off you just enough to take a bite out of his egg smothered bread slice.

“So now you start to believe in your fables?” The prince asked. An amused smile twitching his lips as he chewed. “I do not need to charm you to keep you here, lovely thing. You may eat freely. This food is not poisoned and untouched by magic. Other than what is needed to prepare certain dishes.”

You still didn’t reach for anything. Not even the water. Which sat chilled in a glass pitcher in front of you. Like it was teasing you. You shook your head. “Thank you. But I’ll skip breakfast.”

The prince’s eyes flashed gold and suddenly you were reaching for the water. You tried with all your might to stop yourself from pouring a glass, but your hands worked just like they did when the shadows had hold of you.

Puppeteered.

Helpless.

You tried to cry out as your fingers brought the glass of water to your lips. But your body defied you. And you sipped cleanly, without choking, a long draught of water down your parched throat. Once you had placed the glass down you felt your body return to your control and you stood. Almost knocking the chair over as you jerked away from the table.

“Like I said, I do not need to charm you to make you stay.” The prince said. As if you had asked about the weather. So casually glossing over what he just did. “Your tales of us are true…in some sense. But we hold more power than we allowed you to believe. Please. Eat. You look like you’re about to pass out. And I won’t tell you again. You won’t like it if I have to do it myself.”

It was true. You could feel the edge of your mind falling into a dizzy spiral. And the thought of you passing out in front of him made the hunger turn to fear. You shook your head, clearing it, and sat down before your legs gave out. And begrudgingly served yourself some pancakes.

And it was the best thing you’ve ever eaten. Whether it was because of hunger, or the Fae chefs, it was delicious. Even the fruit you ate was sweet and juicy. Perfect. Also too perfect.

But if you didn’t eat, you were sure he’d probably force you too. So, you gave in. As much as the logical side of the brain was screaming at you to stop.

The prince’s gaze never left your lips as you ate. His eyes were persistently on you, even as he devoured his own breakfast and poured a cup of something that smelled strongly of coffee.

“Did Jackal explain anything to you before he shoved you into a room with a horny Drake?” The prince asked. An eyebrow raising when you told him of the rules Jackal gave you. And you added on that you were meant to be a treat, as a means of amendment from Jackal.“At least he wanted you to live through the morning. And yes, Jackal made a small mistake last night. Maahes exaggerates, it wasn’t so bad he’d lose his territory. He’s just angry he lost a bet at all. You were lucky I found you before Maahes went too far. I do enjoy it when Maahes is rough with me. But your delicate body would snap apart the moment he pulls down his pants.”

The rush of heat that exploded in your body, crawling up your neck and into your cheeks made the prince chuckle. “That’s adorable. But also very dangerous. Don’t do that around Maahes. If he gets whiff that you’re into things like him, you’ll be chained to his hips and riding his cock until your body breaks.”

You tried to argue. Maybe say something that it wasn’t arousal, but shock at the prince’s choice of words. But the prince shot you a look that silenced your rebuttal before it began. “I can smell it on you, pet. Don’t even try lying to my face. It won’t end well for you.” His words carried a threat that made your skin crawl with a chill. Even if his tone was light and teasing. Something in his gaze had your heart racing.

“What are you going to do to me?” You asked. You wanted to know, so you could at least brace for whatever was about to happen to you. How many books have you read about similar scenarios? You had the hot, sexy men part ticked off. A strange, weird place in the Fae realm, checked. But this wasn’t a romance. You were just left to the mercy of a creature with scales. Given a hint at the power that could make you do anything the man in front of you wanted.

Your life very much was in danger right now.

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet.” The prince said. Leaning back in his chair as he regarded you with a critical eye. Like he was appraising a piece of art. “But I’m sure you’re asking if I’m going to kill you. Eat your bones. Turn you into a…I don’t know. What do we Fae do to humans? It’s been centuries since I’ve talked to one. But you never forget the scent.” The prince breathed in deeply and released it slowly with a long sigh. When his eyes opened, his pupils were blown wide like he was intoxicated.

“Such a delicious fragrance. It used to drive me mad in my youth. The lust. The hunger. Oh, fuck, the sex…” The prince finally looked at you again. As if suddenly remembering you were there and had asked a question. “No, dear pet, I am not going to kill you. Some of my court might try. But I’ve already ordered them that you are to be untouched. Left only for me to squeeze.”

He flashed you a smile that made his already handsome face become even more beautiful. “Anyone that tries to force themselves on you will meet my wrath. You are welcome to wander the palace. I do suggest staying as far away from Maahes as possible. And don’t go into the gardens until-”

“If I may, Hez.” The sudden voice of Jackal made you jump as he appeared by your side. Seeming to appear out of thin air as he joined you at the table. Sitting to your right. “I suggest we keep her caged until the staff and court get used to the scent of her in the estate. Already there has been enough unrest that Maahes has had his fill of Fae blood. She will be safer in the dungeons until you solidify the order for her to remain untouched.”

The prince played with the fabric of his tunic as he thought over Jackal’s words. His eyes following the line of your neck to your shoulders and then to the material that smothered your breasts into a perfect soft mound. “You make a good point, Jackal. However…because it was your trap that brought her here, she is your responsibility.”

Jackal’s jaw twinged as he glanced at you. “Hez, I cannot afford to be distracted from my work. I cannot continuously check on her in the cells-”

“Then have her in your office until you ensure she won’t be touched down there.” The prince smiled. A sense of amusement flashing over his face as he winked at you. “Jackal will take fine care of you until I have time for you, pet. Stay close to him and do what he says.”

A sharp scent ripped through your nose and you winced as your mind latched onto the words the prince spoke. An order. An order given by a Fae prince laced with…magic.

“I don’t think she’s stupid enough to try and run from me.” Jackal said. Sighing heavily as he took a sausage from one of the plates and took a bite from it. “Come on then, Lily. Time to watch me do paperwork for hours on end.”

“Lily?” Hezirus asked as Jackal stood. You felt your body follow suit. But it wasn’t anything like the cold touch of shadows or the constricting power from Hezirus. You wanted to follow Jackal. You were told to do as he said, and damn well you will do it.

“It’s not her name.” Jackal assured the prince. “She’s as lovely as a lily. So, that’s what I’ll call her.”

“Hmm, I don’t think that suits her.” Hezirus said thoughtfully. Tilting his head as he looked you up and down again.

“Well, she’s your pet. You pick a name for her.” Then Jackal smiled viciously and tapped the tip of your nose. “Or are you going to introduce yourself?”

When your glare was the only reply they got, the two men laughed and Jackal clicked his tongue. You followed him like a puppy on a leash, up many staircases and through many corridors. Until you found yourself back in the room you started in. Where the basin had now been emptied of water but the room still smelled of the shampoo in your hair.

“Sit.” Jackal ordered. And your body slumped into a wooden chair by a large desk. One that was covered in many long pieces of parchment and piles of books. A few empty ink pots were put to the side. While a stack of new ones awaited to be used. “You might want to get comfortable. You’re going to be here for a while.”

You looked around. Attempting to get comfortable in the wooden chair next to Jackal’s desk. Much unlike the plush, armchair-like seat he possessed, the wood was hard against your ass and the surface cold to the touch.

A few minutes passed as Jackal opened a few books and arranged them to stand in small holders to keep them open. He arranged paper out in front of him and then opened a thick, leather bound book by his left hand. You tapped your fingernails against the wood of the chair. Already insane from the quiet of the room.

“Can I have a book or something?” You asked. And Jackal scoffed a laugh.

“I doubt I have anything here that you can read. It’s all documents and spellbooks; all in languages you can’t read.” Jackal waited for you to argue. But when you didn’t give a rebuttal about knowing more languages than one, he left it to rest. “If you’d like to pass the time, you’re more than welcome to pass the time on me.” The smile was playful. Menacingly teasing as he smirked at you when your cheeks flushed pink.

“You’re not going to order me to do that?” You asked scornfully. And Jackal shrugged, plucking a quill from its seat in an ink pot and started writing.

“I could. Since Hezirus gave you the order to do whatever I say. Or I could force you to do it with my servants. But it’s not as much fun when the giver uses teeth and tries drawing blood every second.” At the word ‘servants’ the shadows from beneath the desks nearby came alive and crawled over the floor towards you. You pulled your dress away from the curious clawed hands and the room filled with whispered laughter as you gasped in horror.

Jackal tsked and the shadows scattered. Returning to being nothing more than dark spots under the desks. “Now hush, I have to concentrate.”

You must have dozed off somewhere after the third hour mark of sitting and doing nothing. The room was bitterly cold now and you shifted in your seat. Trying to find a comfortable position when a touch of fire brushed over your thigh.

You jerked awake. Startling when you came face to face with Jackal. Who had turned his chair towards you and was sitting almost directly between your legs. Both of his hands were coiled around your right thigh. Molding the cool skin with his fingers so gently that it almost tickled.

“Get your hands-”

“Shush, I’m thinking.” Jackal barked back. And the harshness of his voice froze you in place. Or was it the order to do as he says? You had no idea, but you knew that you were helpless in that chair as he squeezed your leg like he was kneading dough into shape. Scraping his palm along your skin through the velvety material of your dress. You had to lean back as he lifted your calf and draped your leg over his lap. You were left completely open to him in this position. But Jackal didn’t seem to notice.

He never went any higher than your upper thigh. His eyes were distant, staring at your chest but not actually paying attention to the shape of your cleavage. It was just the last place he looked before his thoughts trailed off.

You kept quiet. At least welcoming the warmth from Jackal’s lap and touch over your chilled skin.

Any longer here and you were going to freeze. You’d even welcome the harsh treatment of the hot bath just to warm you up. The dress was useless against the breeze that blew in from the open window. And the sun was beginning to go down.

Shit…have you already been here the entire day? No wonder your back was killing you.

Jackal startled you by humming and dropping your leg from his lap. Non-delicately letting your bare foot slap against the stone and you shuffled back onto the chair. He returned to his desk and started feverishly writing something down.

You stayed silent. Kicking your leg over the other to try and savor some of the tingling warmth from Jackal’s fingers. You hated how tenderly he had touched you. Because your core kind of enjoyed the attention.

The sky outside was pitch black and somewhere in the castle, you heard distant screams. It had started some hours ago and had long since lost its pitch. But the volume was still there. Telling you of the absolute agony that was ripping through someone.

“It’s no one you know.” Jackal assured you. Seeing your worried expression. “Maahes told me that there was a second human that jumped in the trap with you. And so far, I haven’t found them. Even if someone already claimed your friend, there would be traces of her. When a Fae consumes or fucks a human there’s…changes.”

That was at least comforting. But hearing such visceral cries turned your blood cold and nausea twisted in your stomach.

They were cut off rather quickly some hours after nightfall. And you weren’t sure if the silence following it was worse or better.

Jackal leaned back in his chair and stretched. Your eyes caught a glimpse of the toned body beneath the fine black tunic. But you tore your eyes away just as Jackal glanced at you.

“You’ve been rather quiet…Oh, right, I told you to shush. You can talk now. I don’t need to think for a bit.”

“I was going to say to get your hands off me.” You snapped. Suddenly finding an urge to speak now Jackal told you so. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

“But you’re so soft and warm.” Jackal practically purred. His arms hanging over the back of his chair as he stared at you. And this time, he really stared at you. With an intensity that had you looking away and a fresh wave of heat flooding your center. And that little nibble of his bottom lip was an added unfair flare.

“You’re disgusting.” You mumbled.

“I’m sure you'll change your mind eventually.” Jackal chuckled. The molten copper turned sharp once more as he returned them to the desk full of freshly scrawled paper. “If you were literate I’d have you read these so I can rest my eyes. But you’re unfortunately not that useful.”

“I can read.” You hissed and Jackal rolled his eyes. Lowering his arms so they came to rest on the desk.

“Can you read dwarvish?” Jackal asked. Then he clicked his tongue when you huffed a curse at him and turned your head away again. “Like I said, illiterate. Shame…it would have been cute having you sit on my lap while you read this over.”

“Fuck off.”

Jackal laughed and sighed. The breath was heavy as it filled his lungs. “I better get you to your cell before I let your arousal do anymore to me. Get up, little flower. And stay close. Maahes is wandering the halls looking for a chance to drag you under him again. And Hezirus is busy ensuring the court doesn’t devour you through the night. So, I’m all you have keeping you alive until we get you to your cage.”

You stood before your mind could think of doing so. And then you were walking beside Jackal through the palace, a step behind him. “What is stopping Maahes from…getting in my..cage?” It sounded weird to say. And you dearly hoped it wasn’t going to be a cage in the middle of a room like the one you appeared in.

“Hezirus.” Jackal replied, as a matter of factly. “Our prince holds alot of power. And not even a Drake as powerful as Maahes can disobey his orders while in his own home. He’ll try to lure you to his bed chambers, or the floor, I’m sure. But as long as you keep saying ‘no’, you’ll be safe.”

“That’s all that is stopping him from…you know…”

“Words hold more power here than your world, sweet flower. And Hezirus has explicitly ordered your words are the rules to your body. So, be mindful when speaking to anyone here. It might save your life.”

You trailed alongside Jackal as he took you deeper into the palace. Down even more stairs and corridors, until he stopped outside of a steel door. You weren’t stupid. This was a dungeon, deep under the palace. You could smell bile and filth from the other locked rooms. And the air was cold and thick.

But there were no guards here. Only the flickering torches along the walls and the soft, pained whimpering of the other prisoners.

“I had your cell cleaned before I brought you down here.” Jackal said. As if his words made it all better as the door to the cell opened without him touching it. Revealing a cramped, dark room. A cot was pushed into the corner. Merely a wooden pallet with hay stuffed into the crevasses and a thin blanket covering the splintering wood.

The pillow looked thin and splotched with gray marks.

“I’m going to freeze down here.” You said. Pulling at the stretchy material of your outfit. “This is barely going to keep me warm.”

“That’s Hezirus’ problem, not mine.” Jackal replied.

Then a hard cold force slammed into you and you stumbled into the cell. The door creaked shut and you heard a lock click into place. You rushed to the door as Jackal opened the little slit, allowing you to see his copper eyes through the darkness.

“Whenever Hezirus remembers his pet is down here, I’m sure he’ll provide you with all the best luxuries your little human body needs.” Jackal said with a roll of his bright eyes. “I, however, do not have time to babysit you at every minute. So, you’ll sit down here, in the dark, like a good girl until things settle. My servants swarm this place, so you’re safe. Just don’t make too much noise. Or you’ll attract some unwanted attention. Get some sleep, little flower. You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

You beat your fists against the door as the slit slid closed. Calling after Jackal in a colorful array of words and sentences. Some even got an impressed whistle out of the spy-master before you heard his boots disappear.

You retreated from the door when someone screamed from a nearby cell. The whispering laughter of shadows echoed through the darkness in response.

You went to the cot. The wood creaked under your weight as you curled up against the corner of the room. Gathering the thin blanket around you. Ignoring the itchiness from the hay and tried very hard not to think of bugs crawling in your hair or down along your arms.

You tried to stay awake. Something was moving beyond the cell door but it never came any closer. Someone would scream or start crying. Another would start begging. Only to be silenced by a harsh hiss that made your blood run cold.

You curled up tighter and closed your eyes. Hoping the sun would scatter the shadows when it rose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[scorpioriesling]

Ideal Mate + Ideal Date HC

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Reader x Rhysand / Cassian / Azriel / Lucien / Eris / Tamlin

Warnings: fluff, some light allusions to smut and brief suggestive scenes, light swearing

Summary: Headcannons/drabbles for (my idea!) what the "ideal" mate for each character is, with an ideal date for the two of them as well.

SR’s Note: Just another little idea I had, pls don't hate on me <3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Rhysand

You would have to catch his eye because you're "different" in some way from other females

Whether it is because you are human, you are creative, you are undeniably brave and don't care who sees it... he is enraptured by you

All of these things intimidate him a little bit, which is why he has to learn about you from afar first before he can finally meet you

He is so nervous when he finally introduces himself, but unashamedly peers inside your head to see if you're even the least bit intrigued in him as he is by you

He's glad he did, and had nothing to worry about; you've fallen at first sight

He makes a point to learn things you like; he has tried to teach himself how to paint, but gets frustrated that it is one of the only things he can't master

He already asked you for an evening by the sidra to paint and have a picnic; too early, though as now he is realizing he is no good at the skill you excel in

"I just want you to know, painting isn't something I'm very talented in doing..."

You get butterflies realizing the most powerful and dangerous High Lord could be so nervous on a first date with a human female

"Allow me to help you, then."

He melts when your fingers hold his on the brush, only using one canvas as you paint a picture together instead of two separate ones

He can barely focus, your jasmine scent so close as you sit side by side on the soft grass by the river in the moonlight. He's not even focusing on the painting, but on your side profile instead, so intrigued in your work, the way your brows furrow in concentration

The moonlight illuminates the soft freckles on your nose; he wants to lean in and kiss each one of them

"No wonder you do not paint very well; you don't seem to have a strong sense of focus," you smirk

Cassian

He didn't want to like you when he met you, but somehow... he couldn't help himself

Your icy stare, the way you carried yourself, your strong sense of independence... you made it clear you didn't want any man

But he wanted you

At first he didn't know how to act around you, usually the fae he took interest in were kind and welcoming... but you had a bite that would send every male in Prythian screaming. He wasn't sure how to make you like him

He tried kindness; he earned a scowl. He tried buying you things; another sour look. He even tried inviting you to things, so you'd feel less isolated; all that got him was rejection, every time. Finally, he'd had enough

"What is it with you? Why won't you let anyone in? I get it, your family sucks, but-"

"Oh, please. You know nothing about me or my family." You'd spat

"Yeah! You're right, I don't," he heaves. "I don't... you don't tell me. You don't let a single person in. You don't talk to me, or tell me anything, or," he huffs a laugh. "Gods, I mean. You wouldn't step back and realize that someone cares so much for you, or see that I've just been trying to get you to love me back all along!" He'd throw his hands in the air, and they'd fall to his sides

You stand there, frozen in shock. You really could not believe what you were hearing, coming from Cassian, of all people

One minute, you're contemplating how to go about all this. Then, the next minute, you're not thinking at all

You're closing the distance, two steps at a time, throwing your arms around his neck and crashing your lips onto his. His large hands grasp your waist, holding you tight to him

You pull away and stare up into his wide, hazel eyes, boring into yours in utter disbelief

"Y/N... I can't do this if you're not serious about-"

"Take me out then. I'll show you just how serious I can be." His chest rises and falls, and he just shakes his head and lets out a suprised chuckle

"You'd really go out with me?" He asks, playfully. You roll your eyes in response, your usual irritation returning to your face

"Rita's in 30." You pull away from him and saunter off toward your room in the House of Wind, feeling his gaze on your swaying hips. You were already planning out a rather scandalous outfit for tonight, involving a tiny red dress hanging in your closet...

"You better stop staring at my ass, Cassie, or I might just change my mind." You call over your shoulder. He prectically clutches his chest with his hand

You were going to be the death of him

Azriel

Hear me out -- Azzie is attracted to someone who is originally viewed as very naive and harmless, but has a confident and brave side as well

He would see you from afar, wearing a pretty dress, a big bow in your hair while you walk along the streets in Velaris with your friends

Your smile has this man blushing!! and he doesn't even know you yet, but he knows he must have you

"You okay man?" Cassian asks, and Azriel cooly plays it off as being too hot in the mid-day sun. Cassian just gives a confused "whatever", but Rhysand says nothing as he knows exactly what is happening here

"I need a drink, and since Azriel is so warm," Rhysand side eyes his friend, smirking. Azriel immediately starts sweating. He knows Rhys is up to something, and Azriel has been casually observing you the whole morning that he's been in Velaris. You'd just gone into the small coffee shop, the one adorned with peonies outside; one Rhys was guiding the group of bat boys closer to. "...why don't we stop in here for some refreshments?"

He thinks his heart is going to fall out of his ass right now. He couldn't go in there -- you were already in there, and he was in no position to be talking to you right now

"Rhys, I uh, I don't know if I want coffee right now," he stutters quietly. Rhys chuckles, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Cassian looks between the two, still confused

"Ohhhhh Az," he sighs. "I'm sure they have water in there, and I am rather thirsty myself. Say, Cassian looks parched too -- why don't you go in and get us three waters, hmm?" Rhysand asks. Azriel glares at Rhys

"I know. What. You're doing." He says, voice clipped. Cassian scrunches his face behind the two of them.

"I mean, I'll go in and get 'em, I am kinda hot now that you mentioned the sun-" Cassian starts. Rhys puts a hand up, stopping his Illyrian friend and shaking his head. A wicked smile plays on his lips.

"No no, Azriel said he would go. We'll just wait outside..." He slinks over to a small table, and Cassian plops down in a chair, seeming to ask Rhys what was going on. The High Lord only stares between Azriel and the front door, silently ushering him to go inside. Azriel growls, forcing one foot in front of the other before he is finally opening the door and entering the small shop

The scent of roasting coffee beans and vanilla cream wafts through the air, the smell intoxicaitng and fresh. It only takes Azriel a moment to spot you, the blue and ivory sundress hugging you stunningly and the cream bow a stark contrast against your rich, flowing hair. He glances toward the window, and meets the eyes of both Rhysand and Cassian. Cassian gives him a cheesy thumbs up, and Azriel rolls his eyes as he heads towards the front counter. You're at the other end, waiting on your order

"Hi! How may I help you?" The cheery older woman behind the counter greets him. He can barely focus on anything, let alone the fae in front of him engaging in conversation when you're closer than you've been all day to him

"Three waters..." he says. The older lady follows his line of sight, a small smile pulling at her lips as she begins to chuckle

"I'll have those right out for you," hes still staring, and she shakes her head, continuing to smile at him. "Her name is Y/N."

This snaps him out of his daze. He looks to the cashier once more. "Y/N?" He repreats. The name has never sounded so lovely. Maybe it wouldn't have, but now he knows it belongs to you. The woman nods her head

"Yes, Shadowsinger." His lips part, but no words come out. "And, she is here every day around lunch time. Unwed. So... I'd suggest you go over there and do something about that, hmm?" Azriel can't hide the heat on his cheeks as the woman winks at him, turning to get working on a few orders. That was his turn to walk away, walk over to you...

As he approaches your side in the waiting area, his breath quickens. He can't help but notice you're alone, your friends have gone outside and oh-so-conveniently struck up a conversation with his two brothers.

Bastards.

"I don't think I've ever waited this long for a drink from here in my life," you say quietly, chuckling at the end. He only blinks, not sure if what he was hearing was true. Were you really speaking to him?

He turns to you, only to find you already gazing up at him. He can't help but smile, revealing his perfect teeth as he fumbles for what to say back

"Do you, come here? Often?" He asks. He already knew the answer, but...

"Almost every day!" You beam. "And you?"

He shakes his head. "First time in."

You nod slowly. "Oh... my. Well, I hope you've tried something delicious for your first experience." You grace him with another small grin, and he feels like he might melt at the sight. He hadn't realized how close you'd stepped, or maybe he had? Only mere inches separated-

"Three waters!" The cashier calls, setting down the three glasses in front of Azriel. His cheeks heat as he stares at them, the wide-eyed expression from his new crush not going unnoticed. It isn't long before the most lovely sound is filling his ears though.

You were giggling beside him.

"Oh... my..." you say between breaths. Azriel sighs, leaving the three cups on the counter and facing you. He can't help but let loose a chuckle himself, and your cheeks redden at the sight of him

"Well, it seems I'll need to come back and actually try something next time..." He says. You continue to giggle, trying hard to calm down and peer down at the floor, shaking your head.

"Hey, I've got a lot of great suggestions, but..." the cashier silently sets down your drink in front of you, and you pick it up. "...plain water maybe isn't one of them." You grin. Azriel grabs his water, taking a long swig and you wished that perhaps it was you on his lips instead-

You turned to walk toward the door, your new companion keeping up with you and holding the door open for you to exit. You open your mouth to thank him, but he beats you to it

"Maybe you can show me what you'd suggest? Next time?" Your wide eyes gaze up at him, his hazel ones squinting in the midday sun. The breeze lightly brushes his black hair across his tanned forehead, and you try really hard to supress the grin spreading across your face

"I'd meet you here tomorrow, but;" you hesitate. "Well, uh, I have ring training tomorrow at this time... but maybe the day following?" You look at him sheepishly. He looks as if he is ready to fall to his knees in front of you

"I'll be here, the day following." You rise on your tippy toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before skipping off to meet your friends. His eyes trail after you, his cheek tingling from where your lips made contact. He doesn’t register his brothers rising from the table and approaching him

“So uh… where are our drinks, Az?”

Lucien

Classic, but Lucie is going to fall for someone (kind of like Az) who is very soft and kind but can also hold her own

He is also going to rizz the shit out of you... but I feel like that is already a given

I feel like he would actually meet you in the Day Court when he's there on an assignment, and you'd be one of Helion's advisor's daughters and he would immediately be drawn to you

The gold and white dress and accessories you'd appeared in... oh he's down bad

He saw you at first in a group setting, not really being able to keep his eyes off of you but then later he spotted you near a pond of sunlight and couldn't walk away

He was walking closer, and noticed you actually weren't alone but were actually comforting a small child who appeared upset near the pool's edge. The boy stood, peering down at you on your knees as you ran your thumbs across his cheeks. Lucien leaned against a nearby tree, not wanting to interrupt, but also so intrigued by the scene in front of him

"There is no need to worry, sweetheart," your tender words pulled at something deep in Lucien's chest, though you weren't speaking to him at all. The little one sniffled and nodded, staring deep into your eyes. "I know it is frightening when we are lost, but look," you give the boy an award winning smile and Lucien feels like his heart is singing for you already. "...I've found you, and you're safe here! You know?" You say. He reaches out his little arms and braces them around your neck, hands tangling in your cascade of curls. You pull him in close, not letting go until he does

You take his precious fingers in yours, and he walks closely beside you as you make your way back to the palace. "Now, let's go find your mommy, okay honey?"

Lucien swears he could cry, hes never seen anyone so kind and gentle. He couldn't imagine having someone like that to love, and made the decision then that he would be introducing himself to you later that evening, properly

And when he does... ohhhh he charms you. It wasn't hard for you to fall for Lucien as quickly as he fell for you; he practically screamed "husband material"

He'd taken you on many dates, but the one that was the most special was when he brought you to a waterfall on horseback, just before sunset. He tied your shared horse to a tree, and led you to a small alcove where a small picnic was pre-set, the sunset streaming through the falling water just right (thank you, Helion). Apple pie, roasted turkey, and autumnal wine adorned the small blanket, as well as a little golden box in the middle. Your hand flew to your mouth

"I know the sunset and these falls make you who you are in the Day Court," Lucien says sheepishly as he guides you to the spread. You take your seats and he doesn't let go of your hand. "I wanted to show you a little bit of what makes me who I am too..." he trails off. You can't help the silver lining your eyes as you take in the scene around you

"Autumn and Day... who would've thought." You smile at him, and he reaches for the box. Opening it, he pulls out a thin golden necklace with a sun symbol on it.

"I love you to great lengths, Y/N," You only then notice as he is unclasping it that he already adorns one of the same around his neck.

"I don't want to leave you, or this place anymore," he says, reaching behind your neck to fasten the clasp. He breathes in your hibiscus scent, and his fingers trail down the side of your cheek. You can't help but let a tear slip free, realizing you'd never have to say goodbye again

"I won't ever leave you, or this court, again."

Eris

You caught the attention of Eris because you were plain

Literally

Eris was so excited (but, confused?) because he'd never genuinely loved a female beyond his sexual encounters, then he'd met you and you'd absolutely ruined everyone else for him

You were overlooked by everyone, which made you feel horrible most of your life, but Eris treated you like a queen, and he appreciated your simplicity and liked how uncomplicated you were

You were not even High Fae; which didn't go over well with Beron, but Eris didn't care. You made him feral. He'd kill his own father for you if it meant spending the rest of eternity with you.

His father was always trying to marry him off with other High Fae or noble females, but they were always too much to handle or too bratty and stuck up to Eris

He also didn't appreciate his father telling him who he would be allowed to chose and who he couldn't

But boy oh boy, did he choose you

He liked to keep your outings private, so no one would be able to swoop in and ruin the time you had together

But, that did not stop him from going all out for you and giving you all of the things you did not get to indulge in

He definately used his status to his advantage...

Your favorite date to go on -- a repeat date, as it was a shared favorite -- was to the orchard. Eris would spoil you by taking you shopping the day prior (you'd almost always choose a crimson or maroon sundress with matching flats) for a new outfit, and you'd wear said outfit the next day

You'd always wear one of his rings, though the two of you were not yet properly wed, and the sight of it made him weakkkkk I am telling you weak

He'd reserve the orchard for the day, and the two of you would ride on the wagon, share warm cider, and walk along the treelines as you both did when you were just young children

Obviously there would be apple picking, and he'd purposefully wander near a tree with ones dangling higher than you could grasp

"Eris, I can't-" you huff, stretching an arm up and dancing on your tip toes in search of the hanging fruit on a branch out of your reach. His eyes would wander, taking in your bare legs as your short dress rode up higher on your thighs-

Ughhhhh, this is not the place, Eris

"Allow me, my love." He would bend down, hiking you up on his shoulder and standing at his full height, arm bent and wrapped around your knees as you sat atop his shoulderblade. You'd wobble a bit, but, now you could reach the Honeycrisp you'd been going for.

Reaching toward branch, you grab on and yank. Seeing it glimmering in the warm September sun, you can't help but to bite into it, a satisfying crunch as a tiny drop of juice trails from the corner of your lips. A satisfied "hmmm" escapes your throat as you close your eyes, but the male beneath you catches on to what you're doing

"Heyyy," Eris slides you off his shoulder, hands firmly gripping your hips and gently setting you on your feet. Your spun around to face him, and he smirks down at you. Your now wide eyes stare into his amber ones as he leans in, licking the drop near your mouth and then leaning in close to your ear

His breath was warm on your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine as goosebumps appeared on your arms. His warm hands trailed up and down your upper arms, his voice low and husky. "These are for picking -- I thought we could eat... later..."

Tamlin

So... stay with me here on this one. Tam Tam is getting a mate that has a power dynamic that is going to absolutely match his okay

Whatever energy you give me, I'm matching it... that is the dynamic that this duo is giving here

Also... I feel like after Feyre, he would pull a complete 180 and be with someone who would put him in his place from the very beginning

His previous relationship really messed him up, but after he healed from that... he absolutely changed for the better I feel like. I think he would be with someone who would keep him in check, remind him when he's acting out, and almost maybe scare him a little? Kind of like Cassian and his ideal mate lol

Except... his ideal girlie would also be maybe just a tad unhinged

Just like him

It's alright... we love to see it

Anyways

His mate would be very modernly beautiful, I feel like; what comes to mind when you think of "society's beautiful". Not fake, however. Just very blessed, and just born this way -- lucky her! Lol

This, of course, caught Tamlin and the entirety of the Spring Court's eye

He was not very intimidated by his ideal mate, at first, but when he got to know you a little bit better, he wanted to do everything right and not screw anything up like last time

If he did mess up, or do things that were genuinely wrong or out of line... oh did he hear about it. You definitely kept him in check

Yet, another reason the Spring Court loved you

He did get easily jealous of other males, High Fae and lesser faeries alike for looking at you too long, talking to you, and fawning over you of course

Who wouldn't?

He'd wrap his arm around you a little tighter when in public, or kiss you literally right on the mouth in the middle of the square if people were staring at you for longer than he'd like

But, you honestly didn't care. You reveled in it, the attention you got from others, which in turn, drove him wild and would lead to his posessiveness of you taking over-

Phew... yeah uhm

Dating... he wouldn't even bother making dates private. He liked showing you off, even though other guys looking at you made him nuts

You liked public dates, because you liked to be shown off, and again, his posessiveness was so sexy and would usually lead to a great time (in PRIVATE, of course) once the nice lil date was over

You'd make it even better by wearing something fun for him when he'd take you out. Let's say... dinner, for example

You'd start sitting across the booth from each other, both recieving polite hello's and compliments from every faerie who passed your table. You'd of course return them; one thing he'd picked up from you was your politeness and manners

After a little while of spending time together and him gazing into your eyes, he'd seem a little... distracted... and slip into the same side of the booth with you instead, just to be closer to you

It didn't really help his case, but he really liked the smell of wildflower and honey that seemed to radiate from you

He'd have one arm around your shoulders, tracing small circles on your skin with his finger and you’d giggle because it tickled

But it also distracted you from his other hand slowly tracing up your thigh...

...and under your short, oh so short skirt...

Finally, you'd caught onto what he was doing and sat up straight, the corset top you'd expertly paired with this outfit for this reason alone doing you justice as his gaze flicked down to where it curved low below your collarbone. A soft growl graced the shell of your ear, and you only chuckled as his hot breath tickled the side of your neck

"You didn't put anything on under this... did you?"

[b0xerdancer-writes]

The Heir of Spring

Tamlin x Archeron!Reader

Summary: When one of Feyre's sisters' stabs Tamlin in the arm, the male took a strange liking to her, he had hoped she had been the one to kill the wolf he could love her ferocity; only she wasn't but she tracked Feyre through the woods and into the Fae realms to show up on Tamlin's doorstep. The rest is history as the two fall in love and start their own family.

Prompt: Heir Of Spring

Warnings: War, violence, blood, family disagreements, feyre and rhys slander, nesta and elain slander kind of.

Word Count: 5,402

Notes: A bit smaller but a good start to Tamlin week, this may be a thing I revisit and do a prologue or multiple parts to delving more into their day to day and relationships since this is cannon divergent and kind of an AU of what if the Spring Court didn't fall. And I felt Tamlin needed some character growth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Archeron sisters had become powerful figures before the Hybern war. The oldest a figment of death herself, The next an oracle with powerful visions, the next imbued with the powers of dryads and nymphs, and the youngest a curse breaker with a touch of every court in her blood.

Stories were told of the four sisters, how the youngest was putting her life on the line for the other three but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth; Feyre knew it but wouldn’t speak in favor of the male that had once locked her within the halls of his estate and the sister she had become estranged with.

When Feyre had first been taken to Prythian she had enjoyed Rosehall however boring it seemed to her, she had been warned about the dangers that lurked between her and her home.  She had been taken aback  when a loud pounding came from the door that startled both Tamlin and Lucien, Tamlin was the first at the door Lucien and herself behind the blonde male. The sister who would later be known as ‘The Dryad’ stood at the door of Rosehall, dressed in hunting furs and bloody, a head from something Feyre would only ever see in her nightmares in her hands. They had different mothers but had bonded together over their years, her mother had been a servant in the Archeron household who had been coerced into sleeping with the master of the house yet she had some of the strongest willpower around and had spent her time in the forests around their home; it paid off now in their young adult years, she had tracked many things for Feyre during Spring when mud would hide tracks.

Tamlin was stunned, that he would admit, at how this small female human had fought her way through the woods, found her way through the wall, and had fought her way to Rosehall; and by the looks of it she had taken out a naga on her own relatively recently from the scent. Tamlin was even more stunned when she tossed the head at his feet, blood splattered on his boots.

“I killed it, I hate the fae  and I murdered one in cold blood. It didnt attack me and gave me no reason to murder it, just like my sister. Now you have to take me in too.” She had growled at the blonde male.

“You took out a naga?” Tamlin asked and she nodded. “By yourself?” She nodded again. “On my property?” She nodded again. “In my court?” Tamlin gaped. 

“Okay then Rosebud, you are free to stay here. We were just having breakfast and I’m sure you must be hungry after a fight with a naga, so feel free to eat up. I’ll have the maids make you a room and then you are free to bathe if you wish, make yourself at home dear.” Tamlin had been truly impressed by the female in front of him, taken with her he would even admit.

She had raised her head high and waltzed right past Tamlin and Lucien only to nod at her sister in greeting. “Feyre, good to see you again.”

Feyre gawked. “What are you doing here?” 

“Originally I came to save you from the jaws of a best but now I refuse to let you go through this alone.” The older female had stated matter of factly and waltzed into the dining room, Feyre at her heels.

When the two female disappeared from their view Lucien had turned to his blonde counterpart with a questioning look on his face. “Tam, pardon me for questioning you, but WHAT WAS THAT.” He whisper-screamed at the blonde.

Tamlin shrugged a smug look on his face. “I like that one, she's the one I was the one who killed Andras. She's the one I told you about.” 

Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “That's the one that stabbed you with the ash dagger in your arm.” 

Tamlin nodded. “Correct however you forgot the other part of it.”

Lucien sighed, already done with Tamlin’s own antics for the day. “My apologies, correction the one that stabbed you in the arm with an ash dagger and made you 99% sure she's your mate.” 

Tamlin gave Lucien an offended look. “I’m not crazy Lucien.  I barged into their house, completely smashed the door from its hinges, mind you, and her first instinct was to leap over a couch at me and put herself between me and her family and stab me in the arm to pull my attention to her…”

Lucien sighed and cut the older male off. “And when you did look at her you felt something similar to how the bind is rumored to feel, just dampened. I get it Tam, maybe it's just dampened because she's human?”

Tamlin nodded. “Maybe. I will just have to wait and see then.” Tamlin motioned to the dining room. “Shall we?” 

Luicen snorted and started back towards the dining room, Tamlin turned and kicked the head out into his yard. Lucien was leaning smugly against the dining room door frame obviously trying to fight laughter and Tamlin found out why when he entered the dining room to find his Rosebud in his chair chowing down on the plate of bacon and pancakes he had compiled earlier before her interruption. Tamlin couldn’t be mad though, he found it adorable and he had rightly invited her into his home and to his table.

He cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention in the room, he sent a wink towards the female in his spot and with a snap of his fingers the table added another sitting and he took his place across from the spiteful, strong willed female.

+

The two were a hilarious picture to Lucien, and he was sure to the mother as well if she truly did design them to be together. They were out in the meadows and she was in his face over something and Tamlin looked like a hurt puppy, Feyre had refused to join but her sister was adamant exploring her ‘prison’ as she called it.

Lucien was leaning against a tree, nose in a good book when he had heard their argument cease, he looked up just ws Tamlin was about to say something and the female with a bored expression on her face; without fail he watched Tamlin point to the moon pool beside them and her just shove the blonde male into it. Lucien had busted out into laughter and she pointed at him and then back at the lake; he raised his hands in surrender ,set his book down, and kicked off his boots. He had stepped up to her, and just as she reached out to shove him in he threw her straight into the water instead. When she finally dragged herself from the water with a pout she had pushed Lucien back in on top of Tamlin; the two males proceeded to race her back to the manor that evening after their clothes had dried, Tamlin had let her win of course by insisting she take the fastest horse. 

+

When Rhysand had appeared the evening at the manor, Tamlin had put her under a glamor and had her behind his chair, she had clutched the same dagger she had stabbed Tamlin with tightly in her right hand and leveled her breathing, when Rhysand had found Feyre and grabbed her by her chin Tamlin had shot her a glare, still hidden under the blondes glamor, for some reason she knew what that look meant. 

‘Stay hidden.’ He begged her silently in that look. ‘Don’t stab him. It will be okay.’

She had understood and focused on her breathing not giving herself away, Tamlin had put himself between her and Rhys and she found herself clutching the back of his shirt to calm herself; after the gloomy male had left she had leaned against the blonde male while catching her breath.

It had been that night after Feyre and Lucien had gone to bed that she slipped from her own room, it was grand and only one other door shared the hall with hers; the room across from hers was Tamlin’s, she knew that much for sure, as she had heard his steps and the door close late every night. She had never been a good sleeper, insomnia had haunted her since she was a child and the only thing that seemed to sooth it was nature; during the warmer seasons back home she could simply open a window but that was impossible in the winter and she had been so adjusted to her winter schedule it affected her more than normal. Any sane person, human or fae, would think her insomnia a side effect of the gloomy males appearance earlier; she didn't know quite what caused it but she did know Tamlin was affected by the same kind as her, every night just as exhaustion began she would hear Tamlin’s steps, heavy and slow, coming down the hall and disappear into his room. 

Except this time instead of his steps lulling her to sleep, they never came up the stairs so she fought off the exhaustion nipping at the edges of her consciousness and slipped down the halls into his study where he had disappeared after dinner.  No words were spoken as he looked up from the glass of whiskey and simply offered her her own glass, she had taken it with a nod; fire crackled in the hearth to her right and eventually Tamlin moved from his seat behind his desk to the one beside her, an unspoken understanding between them as he wrapped a fur tossed over the back of his chair over her. Eventually the two dragged themselves up the stairs and through the halls again, slipping into their rooms with a wave and nearly falling into their own beds, it was the start of an unspoken relationship and the first taste Tamlin had of who his mate truly was.

+

The night of calanmai had been rough, the drums and smoke called to her, she had always loved festivals and parties; and Tamlin had been cold and distant and his steps were not there to assure her everything was okay, surely he would be out all night and wouldn't care if she were to slip into his bed in search for some semblance of comfort. Tamlin’s silk sheets were cool against her skin and her own silk pajamas, she could only assume what Feyre was up to in her room; Tamlin had ordered them to stay here and as much as she wanted to disappear into the crowds of partying fae she refused, opting to cover her head with one of Tamlin’s pillows as a way to deafen herself from the calling music outside. Two mistakes had been made that night, one was Tamlin refusing to fully inform them about what Calanami was and two was the fact she had deafened herself and didnt hear those steps she had familiarized herself with coming up the stairs.

Tamlin was completely exhausted and disgusted by Calanmai, he was sure of it now, or at least that last sane part of his brain tonight was, that she was his mate; every maiden’s scent disgusted him and he had even smelled Feyre’s there it was similar to the one he wished had been there but different enough he had no urge to chase after it, he'd had an altercation with Feyre on his way back into the manor but was able to restrain himself at the thought of his mates smell lingering in the halls. It was her he wanted, not her little sister.

Tamlin wanted to just bathe and collapse into bed, his mind in a fog due to the mix of lingering magic and his senses beginning to clear. Yet when he finally clambered his way up the stairs he found himself confused that his door was cracked and a faint lamp light seeped out into the hallway, he was confident he had closed the door and shut off his lamps. He stepped into his room looking everything over and his heart nearly stopped at the sight of his female curled up in his bed, he didn't want to wake her and ruin the sight in front of him; he cursed and tiptoed into the attached bathing room, to him he still stunk if the female he had given unto his instincts with and didn’t want to disturb or disgust the female fast asleep in his bed.

His brain was on autopilot, a mix of hormones, instincts, and the slightest bit of control he did have. He scrubbed his skin raw until every inch of paint and any trace of the females that were throwing themselves at him was gone, he finally slipped into cotton trousers with a groan; he briefly debated going across the hall into her room to sleep but a warm bed and the female in it was calling to him. Surely if she had sought him out like this she wouldn't mind him sleeping in hisnown bed beside her, after all they both had made a habit of checking on the other before falling asleep now. He tucked himself into the silk sheets beside her and sighed as she curled into him, the comfort of her being there surely was the determining factor in his muscles finally  relaxing and letting him fall asleep seamlessly.

All that had been spoken between the two the next morning was a simple exchange of “you okay?” and “yeah. You?” And a nod of her head. 

Nothing was said when they both appeared for breakfast, Lucien seemed content at poking fun at Feyre for a bruised wrist and the nearly erotic interactions she had at the festival last night before Lucien finally escorted her back to the manor; Her sister had simply shook her head at Feyre when she found out the younger female had snuck out despite being told to stay.

Other than that everything had stayed relatively uneventful, the two continued their evening drinks and then would climb the stairs together to collapse into their own beds; but it had been just the start they needed.

The next time anything eventful happened was when she and Feyre had been sent back to their home, she had put up a fight and it took knocking her out to get her in the carriage.

Tamlin had felt terrible hurting his Rosebud like that, he knew she didn’t want to leave Rosehall and it hurt him to have to knock her out just to keep her safe. She had locked herself inside her room, refusing to come down and eat; she became a ghost. She wouldn’t admit to it but Tamlin’s presence had calmed her and had offered a strange kind of presence that left a lot of emptiness and longing there, She would only ever leave her room late at night after everyone else had gone to bed and she would sit in the garden across from the rose bushes remembering her late night meetings with Tamlin; she never once noticed Feyre’s absence within the walls of the home she occupied.

She stayed out of Nesta and Elain’s ways and kept out of their business, until a loud knock came at her door. She opened it with a growl in her throat ready to scream about leaving her alone, only Feyre greets her at the door but yet she is now fae like Tamlin; her eyes scanned over the sharpened features and pointed ears, a frown comes over her face as she furrows her brows.

“Sister, before you say anything let me explain.” Feyre begged, pushing her way into the room and closing the door behind her.

The older female shrugged sarcastically. “Well I have no other option since you pushed your way in here, explain away.”

“I don’t wish for you to be mad at me.” Feyre pleaded.

“I have a feeling I am going to anyways, no matter what you say that is not a promise I can make to you right now.” The older snapped, venom in her words.

The two sat down opposite each other on the padded couches she had tucked into the corner of her room, Feyre explained everything that had happened and begged her to help them with the mortal queens that would be meeting with them soon. That it might be good for her, she needed to get out of this funk anyways because Tamlin was jot a good male; Feyre insisted it and the older female felt her blood pounding in her ears and behind her eyes.

“Don’t you dare slander him like that, he only did what he had to to protect us Feyre, don’t start with me on this.” The older female growled.

“I'm telling you sister he is a bad male and I need you to put whatever feelings you have behind you and help us with this. You were there in Prythian too, you can speak on the matters that happened there.” Feyre begged.

“I will be down for dinner to meet these males you speak so highly of. I will think about your offer. I promise you nothing.” She hissed back at Feyre, pushing her younger sister from the room and shutting the door with a loud bang.

She dragged herself into the attached bathing room, contemplating ways to truly anger her sister for how she had spoken about a male she could tell was truly broken.  She scrubbed herself with floral scents, dressed herself in the same greens Tamlin had worn, and then slipped one of the roses she had brought up from the late nights in the garden into her hair; a sign of who she was truly loyal too, she didn't see Feyre’s disdain for the blonde male she only saw the fact he tried to protect them.

She had joined the group in the kitchen, Feyre had given her a sad dejected look upon her arrival to the dining room table, she made no talk with the males around the table even when they attempted to reason or talk with her.

Eventually she stood, after she’d had enough of their insults and turned to address Feyre. “I will not be supporting you this time little sister, you insult my family and those I love then turn around and expect me to bend to your every whim? Well I will not be bending for you this time. Find your own way, Cursebreaker.” 

She stepped out into the gardens to lose herself amongst the Roses she had helped Elain plant, a stone bench with heads of beasts carved into it greeted her; the only place she felt she could truly relax when her mind was racing, the beasts on the bench had reminded her of Tamlin’s beast form. After she cooled off she would head back inside and curl into bed, hopefully she'd get some kind of sleep tonight.

+

Several weeks had passed, everything had returned to normal, the queens came and went but a loud noise of some sort had her sitting up in bed; her door was off its hinges and three males  filed into her room. She screamed and fought, but they gagged and bound her; eventually one of them had gotten tired of her thrashing and knocked her out.

+

When I came to, Elain was being pulled from a large pot, but Tamlin’s eyes never left my figure despite Feyre clinging to his arm and when he saw I was finally awake he made a subtle gesture to stay calm, his eyes held the same message they had the day Rhysand stormed into Rosehall: ‘don't fight, don't move, don't get hurt.’ 

I nodded back but tensed up as they dragged me forward. I rose to my feet, squared my shoulders, and shrugged off their grasp; stepping into the cauldron of my own free will. Just as I was about to submerge into the water I heard Tamlin call out for me, I felt his panic, felt every emotion he was feeling in my own chest and hoped he could feel my own thoughts and emotions; I took one last breath and let myself sink into the water, that enveloped me in a cool feeling that reminded of the breeze that floated across the Spring Court.

Inside the water, the cool black emptiness turned and twisted until I was greeted by a misshapen and abandoned version of Rosehall, inside a version of Tamlin that had clearly given up; it saddened me to see him in that, angered me to clearly see the cause: Feyre. The male she had chosen over Tamlin was towering over him, mocking him about Feyre destroying his court from the inside out. I couldn’t move, could only watch but then Rhys said something that had me thrashing against whatever invisible force held me in place.

“Too bad you listened to Feyre and that dumb little priestess instead of your mate. Maybe you wouldn’t have lost it all.” Rhysand had mocked. 

No. I wouldn't let him lose it all, I’d be there to protect him like he had me, like he had tried to do with Feyre. I fought against everything restraining me to reach out for Tamlin and Rhysand to put myself between them and from the ground a wall of thorns all angled at Rhysand’s throat grew, one wrong move could have had his head on a spike. Whatever seemed to hold me there disappeared and I clattered onto the familiar wooden flooring of Rosehall,  I rushed forward to Tamlin who called out my name; the thorns around Rhysand swarmed me instead and I screamed as they embedded themselves into my skin, it burned and I felt like my insides were being torn apart and reformed repeatedly, until one final crack had my vision going white and I attempted to reach out in Tamlin’s direction. Everything came rushing back to me as my hand made contact with the iron of the cauldron and I pulled myself back out, my body felt thinner yet heavier and all of my senses felt sharper; I stepped fully from the cauldron to find everyone staring at me and then Tamlin called my name desperately, my vision snapped to him and I rushed forward when everything was silenced by a blinding gold light and the feeling of belonging.

He had pulled me into his arms, faced me away from my sisters as they dragged Nesta under and he shrugged Feyre off. It was the first I had been able to take in my appearance, or at least a portion of it; where the vines had embedded themselves tattoos of swirling thorns made themselves at home with an occasional Rose in bloom or blooming  littered throughout the design. Bracelets weaved together of vine, woods, and ivy dangled from my wrists; the tattoos led towards my wrist and faded into black at my fingertips.

“How intriguing,” a voice called out from behind me and Tamlin’s grasp tightened around me. “She's high fae yes, but there is clearly something ancient in her blood the cauldron transformed; she's similar to a wood nymph but so very different I haven't seen a dryad for ages, I believed them extinct. How exceptional for the cauldron to give us this.” 

I felt a rumble begin in Tamlin’s chest and I tightened my own grasp on Tamlin. “Seems like the girl had fae blood in her veins somewhere Tamlin, appreciate that fact.”

The rest of the evening went by fast, I could barely remember it with my face buried in Tamlin’s chest. Nesta and Elain had tried to call me over to them but I simply shot them a glare. Eventually we returned to Rosehall, Lucien gave me a sympathetic nod while Feyre tried to cling onto Tamlin’s arm. She tried to play up how much she missed him, a lie, in fact it was all lies that fell out of her mouth; I had heard her ramble on and on about how much she was in love with Rhysand the day she brought them to our table, and it bothered me I wanted to say something but I was content in Tamlin’s arms as he carried me. 

He had brought me to my old room,  nothing had been touched beside the bed. “Sorry, I may have slept in the bed a couple times on sleepless nights.”

“You have nothing to apologize for Tamlin, but I have to ask you something.” I gave him a worried look.

“Of course Love.” He furrowed his brows. “What has you so concerned?”

“When I was in the cauldron, I saw something that I feel you should know though.” I clutched at the material of his shirt desperately.

“Of course love, what is it? What did you see?” Tamlin asked me with a concerned tone of voice.

“When I went under in the cauldron, I was here but not here, everything was torn apart and it looked abandoned. You were here down stairs in your study and Rhys was looming over you, he said something about how if only you had listened to me and not the priestess or Feyre. I have reason to believe the cauldron told me that for a reason Tamlin, I know for a fact the way Feyre is acting is a charade and that she completely despises you. She begged me to let go of the feelings I had for you and to listen to how terrible of a person you were when she came home to us as a fae.” I explained.

“Rhysand said something about how you'd lose it all, he… he was threatening you,” I looked to the ground and fusted the fabric of his tunic tighter in my hands. “I couldn’t stand for it. I- I reached out for you and then a wall of thorns was separating you and Rhysand and they were all pointing to Rhysands neck. And- and when I came out of the cauldron you called for me and then I looked at you and everything was glowing with a faint golden light and there was a throb in my chest-“ I was in the midst of rambling when Tamlin pulled me into a growl with a kiss.

“I'll send Feyre back to her court, and then me and you will consummate our mating bond and then will do this our way. Alright? Neither one of us will be left alone to lose it all as long as we have the other.” Tamlin assured me.

“Alright.” I nodded.

“Get cleaned up, I’m going to talk to your sister and send her back home. We can talk about consummating the bond later tonight.” Tamlin kissed my forehead and motioned to the attached bathroom.

+

The bond had been consummated over a cherry pie, and everything had been going alright; Feyre had frowned upon the fact I revealed her plan to Tamlin, she was even more bitter he had made me High Lady after he had refused her. The war came and went, I knew his plans of infiltrating Hybern and bringing the plans to the other High Lords; fuck, I had attended the meeting with him and fought with my sister over the venomous words she soit towards me and my mate. On the field I had caused massive damage, walls of thorns herded our enemies, tore them apart, and pulled them into the terrain below; I could cover large areas of terrain  and bend it to our whim. It had made enough of a difference and I believed my sister understood that, as she clutched her dead mate and Tamlin offered him a shred of his own magic after getting a nod from me. It would be the last thing I would do to support her.

+

After the war we spent a majority of our time repairing the Spring Court  that was until Lucien had made a comment about my scent being different which concerned Tamlin and led to an announcement of Spring Courts heir. Well I say ‘announcement’ but really we kept it under wraps from anyone but members of our court till the next High Lords meeting was called. Eris had been crowned after Beron had been assassinated by some leftover bane put into his drink; the assassin was never caught even though we all knew it had been a plot by Eris and his mother. Kallias had added Viv into our list of High Ladies and Helion had married Lucien’s mother. Come to find out Lucien was heir of the Day court and he had been trekking back and forth between Day and Spring to perform all of his duties.

Tamlin and I would be the last two to appear for the High Lords meeting, our son Alder on my hip; he was only two now but he had Tamlins golden hair and bright green eyes, you could make out his Dryad heritage though by the smokey black around his fingertips. Tamlin had offered to research my heritage with me to find out more about Dryads for me and our son.

Alder was fascinated by his Uncle Lulu, as he had taken to calling him, and started squirming in my arms the second he saw the ginger leaning against the entrance of his father’s home, His fox-like grin greeted us warmly. 

“Good to see you two again, and as always its great to see my little Alder!” Lucien took the small boy into his arms, offering him a small orb of light to play with.

Tamlin pulled me into his side, “We are going to announce it tonight but we are naming him heir.”

Lucien snorted. “Do you really have to name him heir? He's your only one so far so no one will contest it anyways.” 

Tamlin and I exchanged looks and Lucien glared at us. “Right?”

“Actually, that's part of why we were announcing it tonight.” I started but Lucien interrupted.

“Oh by the mother! You’re having another!” Lucien exclaimed. 

Tamlin and I nodded equally as excited. “We better get in there, though I'm sure they can excuse us for the lateness due to Alder refusing to get dressed into nicer clothes.”

Lucien snorted and passed Alder back to Tamlin. “Then let's get in there, shall we?” 

+

The meeting went extremely well, all the other courts were excited to welcome Alder as the heir of spring and happily congratulated us on the other arrival that would be coming soon. 

I had introduced Alder to Feyre, Rhys and the rest of the inner circle out of duty and not respect. “This is Feyre and Rhys, they are the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, the northernmost point of Prythian.”

Alder furrowed his brows and reached for Tamlin over my shoulder, he swept him away while he conversed with Eris and Lucien. 

“Sister-“ Feyre had started.

“Don’t” I hissed at her, Nesta and Elain backing her up. “You have no right to call me that after what you tried to do to my mate. The last kind act you received from me was the war. Be happy Feyre, but it won't be with me in your life. If you wish to show up Tamlin is throwing a party for Alder’s birthday, he's naming him as heir publicly there.”

I turned from her and  joined back at my mates side, Tamlin had grown since I first met him for sure; he was a good male, a good dad, he was ecstatic about training his children, and he was passionate about his court. I had seen him grow since his heir was born, there had been many a night where Tamlin would ramble on about all the stuff he couldn’t wait to show Alder about his court. He was so ecstatic to have Alder that he had gotten a small golden crown forged for him that was a duplicate to Tamlin’s. 

I was proud of the male I loved, he had come so far and I couldn’t have asked for a better life with him. I just had one last puzzle to figure out: How to tell him I was pregnant with twins, and there would be three children running around Rosehall soon enough.

Taglist: @tamlinweek

[prythianpages]

'Cause Somewhere in the Crowd There's You | Lucien

summary: When Tamlin sends Lucien to the Night Court as his emisssary, he stumbles upon a nightclub and finds himself captivated by you. His sweet nightingale.

warnings: angst, mentions of blood and violence (reader is trapped in a nightclub)

a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: but also was inspired by Lana Del Rey's music and a hint of Oscar Wilde ♥️ This takes place roughly before Amarantha's rule. If I'm going to be honest, I find Lucien hard a bit hard to write for (but this song really gave me lucien vibes) so I hope this doesn't come off a bit out of character for him. also why is it so hard to find pics that match Lucien's vibe on pinterest.

Trapped in the ceaseless rhythm of melancholic blues, you can’t help but feel sick and tired of everything. Days blur into nights. All you do is eat and sleep and sing. The weight of routine presses down on you, suffocating the spark that once fueled your passion. 

You wish every show to be your last.

That is, until you see him.

He emerges from the crowd like a radiant sun breaking through the darkest night. His presence is tall and striking with skin kissed by the sun and a cascade of red hair. Despite the length of scars that run down the left side of his face, there is an undeniable elegance and beauty that surrounds him. His eye holds you captive, drawing you in like a moth to a flame and your voice falters for a brief note. 

**

Lucien knows he should leave. Hewn city is not a welcoming one and his meeting with the High Lord of the Night Court did not go well. But against the warning bells ringing in his head, he decides to linger and wander around the dark city. With no clear destination in mind, his feet guide him through the labyrinthine alleys until, almost as if compelled by an unseen force, he stands before the entrance of a mysterious nightclub. Bathed in an eerie red light, the sign above reads The Rose. 

As he approaches, the entrance, despite being small, appears almost ethereal. Shadows dance upon the towering stone walls. The air is thick with an alluring blend of magic, pleasure and something darker. Inside is just as mysterious and intoxicating. He should leave and he turns around to do so when he a mesmerizing sound stops him and holds him in place.

“In the land of gods and monsters.” 

A beautiful and heavenly voice. It beckons him forward like a siren’s call and he allows the fae lights embedded in the cavern to guide him further. The corners of the nightclub harbor hidden alcoves, draped in luxurious silks and velvet.  

“I was an angel living in the garden of evil.”

Some high fae engage in secretive exchanges and gambles. Some are lost in the enigmatic allure of drinks and colorful powders that shimmer with enchantments. Some are engrossed in the pretty fae females and males on their laps. Others, like him, are captured by the hauntingly beautiful song.

“You got that medicine I need. Fame, liquor, love, give it to me slowly.”

Where ancient stone meets polished wood, Lucien finds himself at the bar and orders a drink. He turns to face the stage in the center of the club, leaning against the bar. His mechanical eye emits a soft whir as his gaze travels to the owner of the voice. 

“Put your hands on my waist, do it softly.”

A silent awe washes over him as he takes in the sheer beauty before him. Dressed in a white gown that drapes over you like moonlit silk, you stand on the stage like an angel amidst the monsters that lurk in every corner of the place. The fabric mirrors your every movement as you sway to the rhythm of the song in small billowing waves.

“Me and the Mother, we don’t get along. So now I sing.”

It’s as if you sense his gaze on you because your siren eyes are searching the crowd. Mirroring the depths of a fathomless ocean, your eyes are pools of sadness and longing, yet there's a vulnerability that softens in them as they lock with his. Your voice slightly falters and for a heartbeat, time seems to stretch.

A tremor courses through you, fingers tightening their grip onto the microphone. Your eyes darken again and then you’re tearing your gaze away from Lucien. He follows it, curious eyes landing on a male who stands on the balcony facing the stage. Even from where Lucien stands, he can tell the male radiates power and money.

“No one’s gonna take my soul away.”

“They call her the Nightingale.” The bartender says to Lucien as he hands him his drink. Lucien’s gaze returns to you. “She’s off limits. I suggest finding another female to warm you for the night. There’s plenty to choose from here.”

Lucien says nothing in return. Those hadn’t been his intentions upon seeing you. He simply found himself struck by your presence. And as the enchanting notes of your song continue to soar, there’s a rising desire to learn more about you. The thought of extending his stay begins to take root, a subtle whisper tempting him to linger a while longer. He’ll write to Tamlin to reassure him and continue to negotiate with Rhysand further.

**

The gamble Lucien took to stay in Hewn city is a winning one with each passing night yielding more promising signs of Rhysand's willingness to compromise. It brings him relief as it gives him an excuse to visit the nightclub again. He returns the next night and then the following, noticing something new about you every time. 

On the second night, he realizes the male you had glared at the first night he saw you was the owner of the nightclub. Lucien learns that he was right in his first impression of him. Benedict is a wealthy man, both in money and in connections, and is not subtle about the power he holds over this part of the city. Everyone in the nightclub bows down to him but not you. There’s a look of defiance in your eyes every time you look Benedict’s way.

On the third night, your usually hauntingly melancholic voice takes on a different, lighter tone. It’s still just as beautiful but now, harbors a sense of hope. And your eyes find Lucien’s with ease. You don’t break eye contact with him throughout the entirety of your performance that night, as though your song is a serenade meant solely for him.

It’s on the fourth night that he finally gets to talk to you. 

Breaking from your routine of disappearing behind the stage curtains after performances, tonight, you grace the bar with your presence, drawing stares from some of the high fae. His grip tightens on his glass when he recognizes a dark hunger in most of them but even so, none dare to approach you.

“What will it be, lovely?” Lucien hears the bartender address you.

Taking the empty spot beside Lucien, your presence and proximity captivate him. His heartbeat falters momentarily as you graciously flip your hair, surrounding him with the divine scent of the sweetest rose.

“Just a water,” you reply and he hears the rustle of your dress as you turn to face him. “You’re not from here.”

Lucien’s lips twitch upwards. “What gave it away?”

“You’re not a monster.”

He finally turns to look at you, a strange warmth spreading through him. Ever since he lost his eye, he had battled with the scars tainting his skin, internalizing a sense of monstrousity. Yet, as you regard him, it feels as though you see an angel where he sees only imperfections.

His eye drinks you in, the mechanical one on the left whirring along. The corner of his lips lift up into a smirk when he catches you doing the same. 

“How do you know I’m not a monster?”

“There’s something different about you. Something good,” your eyes study him carefully and then, with a soft sigh, you add, “It’d do you well not to dwell in places like this. They’ll only dim your light.”

Curiosity getting the better of him, Lucien asks, "And what about you?"

Your eyes widen, as though the question catches you off guard. "What about me?"

Despite the myriad thoughts swirling within him, he restrains himself and settles for, "You, too, don't seem to fit into this place.”

You fall into a thoughtful silence and your brow slightly furrows. Lucien keenly observes the subtle shift in your gaze as you scan the room before settling back on him. Leaning in as though sharing a secret, he instinctively leans closer. However, as he anticipates your words, you’re turning your back to him. Just as he's poised to speak, you sweep your hair aside, rendering him speechless as you show him instead. 

A delicate tattoo is etched onto the skin between your shoulders—a bird confined within a cage.

“I can’t leave,” he hears your murmur and the ink on your skin appears to shimmer like stars in confirmation. A bargain permanently marked upon flesh. Your flesh and he swallows thickly at what your words imply. 

You’re that bird, the nightingale, trapped in the cage.

“I have to go,” you say suddenly and your hair falls back into place, cascading down your back and concealing the telling tattoo. “Will you come by tomorrow?”

“I thought you said I shouldn’t dwell in places like this.”

“You shouldn’t,” you reply with a wistful smile and Lucien hates the way you drop your gaze.

“But I think I will.”

His words prompt your head to lift, eyes meeting his in surprise. A rush of excitement flushes your skin, transforming the wistful smile into one that is lighter, more promising. A fluttering sensation stirs in Lucien's stomach, and he can't help but return your smile.

A couple more days in Hewn City wouldn’t hurt.

**

Ten days ago, you were stuck in an endless loop of exhaustion and despair, where every night weighed heavily upon you. However, a welcome shift has occurred since then. Sleeping, eating and singing still consume most of your days but a newfound presence has entered the scene. Lucien.

And as the curtains are drawn back, revealing your presence to the awaiting audience, you embrace yourself for the blinding super trouper beams. Unlike nights past where a tinge of melancholy enveloped you, tonight is different. 

You won’t feel blue, like you always do, because somewhere in the crowd there’s him.

Lucien’s presence is like a burst of brilliance, akin to the beaming lights that find you on the stage every night. When your eyes find his amongst the crowd, your pulse quickens and heat rushes to your cheeks. It’s like the sight of him proves to you that you're still alive. 

In his wake, the shadows that linger in the club cower and hide away. He shines like the sun and you find his brightness infectious. It chases away the gloom that had settled over your own light, reigniting the flames of enthusiasm that had long dimmed within you.

Each note you sang resonated with newfound energy, and every performance became an opportunity to embrace the warmth and vitality he brought into your world. As the final notes of your song hang in the air, you can’t help but feel a sense of destiny. You were meant to meet Lucien.

After your performance, you sneak your way back to the bar where he waits for you.

“You came again,” you smile at him.

Lucien smiles back at you but it falters. “I’m afraid it’ll be the last time…for a while.”

The smile doesn’t waver off your face yet the glistening in your eyes reveals the threat of an emotional storm beginning to unfold. You refuse to dwell in it, not wanting to let the darkness that lingers over you like a gloomy cloud to consume you again.

“Okay,” you manage to breathe. You knew this day was coming. Lucien had to return back home, and you, regrettably, can’t go with him. “Let’s make the most of tonight, then. Dance with me?”

“Are you sure?” Lucien asks and you follow his gaze to where Benedict stands, a top of the balcony as always. You feel a rush of relief when you see a pretty female wrapped around him. A distraction. Perfect.

Lucien watches you, taking in every shift in your expression as he awaits for your answer. It’s not that he doesn’t want to dance with you. Gods, does he want to dance with you. Anything to be able to hold you close. To take you into his arms and hold you tight. 

Unfortunately, he’s well aware of the tight leash Benedict keeps you on. He doesn’t let you stray far from his sight. You’re not allowed anywhere near the private nooks lining the club or the rooms at the back where private exchanges occur. It’s for your own safety and Lucien can’t be mad at that. What unsettles him is the way Benedict regards you as his most prized object and Lucien doesn’t want you to face consequences over a dance.

“Yes,” you finally answer. 

There’s a strong certainty in your voice but also a subtle plea that tugs at his heartstrings. It brings forth a tightening in his chest. He suppresses the urge to frown. He plans to return to you but for now, it’s your last night together before he has to leave the Night Court. 

Lucien graces you with a smile instead. He offers his hand to you, his eyes lighting up with a warmth that mirrors the blood coursing through his veins. A delightful shiver travels up his spine as your hand wraps around his. Until now, you’d only share glances, lingering stares and the occasional brushing of skin. 

As the piano begins its enchanting melody, Lucien takes the lead, guiding you onto the dance floor. You’re so close you can feel the warmth of his body and all you want to do is melt into it. Melt into him. But you can’t.

So you bask in the warmth of his gaze instead. Up close, you can now appreciate the depth of his russet eye and you can’t help but marvel at the intricacies of the golden mechanical eye on the left. His gaze never strays from yours throughout the dance and the tender connection between you begins to rise under the brilliance of his gaze, pulling your heart with it.

As he holds you tight, you surrender to the intimate embrace, shedding all inhibitions. Neither of you speak, your eyes speaking for you. It feels as though the world has faded away, leaving just the two of you swaying in harmony. Smiling, having fun, where each step becomes a silent declaration of the unspoken feelings that have blossomed between you.

The passage of time remains elusive as you share the dance, the minutes slipping away unnoticed until the pianist gracefully bows to the audience. Your dance comes to a dreadful stop. Lucien's grasp on you tightens, a reluctant acknowledgment of the inevitable separation.

“I’ll come back for you,” he whispers, his promise carrying a tenderness that ignites a fervent flame within you. “I’ll find a way to help set you free, my sweet nightingale.”

He then pulls a pristine white rose, the same exact shade of white as the dress you wore when he first saw you, from the folds of his coat. He graces you with one last smile as he leans in, placing the rose carefully behind your ear. “Until then,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple and your eyes flutter shut.

“Until then,” you breathe and as Lucien walks away and the shadows inevitably return, you take delight in the way the darkness hesitates to claim you, leaving you untouched.

You can’t even bring yourself to care when Benedict corners you backstage, seething with anger. Of course, he noticed. You don’t even flinch when he throws his glass of whiskey toward the wall behind you, the shattered glass ricocheting. Some of them make their way to you, slicing your skin.

As you settle into the comfort of your small room, you retrieve the white rose from its perch behind your ear, cradling it delicately in your hand. A single drop of blood from one of your healing cuts taints the rose, painting one of the white petals red. Still, you cling onto the slender stem, gripping it as tightly as you grasp onto that fervent flame of hope burning within you. Your light will never dim again…

Because somewhere in Prythian, there’s him.

a/n: I'll admit this took an angstier turn than what I had intended but I hope you still enjoy this darker interpretation of ABBA's Super Trouper lol.

if you'd like to read more about these two, here's a part two.

tagging: @scooobies

[dreamofjoys]

𝐈 𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐔𝐏

— summary: 5W1H of twst characters eating you up

— characters involved: leona kingscholar, malleus draconia x female reader

— cw: oral sex (female receiving), public sex, fem reader is clothed in leona's part, face fucking, fingering, malleus has long forked tongue, dubcon (but reader is implied to be enjoying and loving every moment), jealous malleus (kinda possessive)

— a/n: my god this is like my secondary school english class brainstorming answers for my essays lol (but that's literally what im doing rn so...)

what happened

leona had you pushed against the wall, lifting your legs up to rest on his shoulders while he lifts up your skirt, using a finger to slide your panties to the side, revealing your pretty pussy to him. he wasted no time diving in to the feast in front of him, making sure to give a long and slow lick before tongue fucking you. his grip on your ass is tight, making sure to push your cunt to him so that he could shove his tongue deeper into you and get a taste of you at your most sacred place. you could only grab onto his mane and moan his name like a slut, grinding onto his tongue shamelessly and begging him for more. if it gets too much, you wouldn't be able to do anything since he had you pressed against the wall. between him, you and the wall, you are definitely the weakest. so just present yourself to him and let him devour you till he is satisfied

where did it happened

in an empty classroom

when did it happened

2 hours after potionology class ends

why did it happened

he was held back for 2 hours by crewel just to take make up lessons for the ones that he missed. his stomach was already growling like crazy because ruggie was sick today and didn't get him lunch. after crewel left, he was preparing to leave too until you came in looking for him. with his stomach growling like a mad beast, he needed something to satisfy his hunger now

who was involved

it's obviously just you and leona. his not a big fan of sharing his private life with other people, except for you of course

how did it happened

the moment he sees you, he just asked if he could eat you there and then. you were confused, thinking that he wanted to do it at his room, so you agreed, and he immediately started feasting on you in that empty classroom

bonus scene

"a-ah~ leo, wh-what if hnng someone comes in?" you asked your lion boyfriend who is currently still obsessing over your cunt, lapping on all your juices while you sit on his shoulders and take everything that he gives. leona hums in response, the act alone sends waves of vibration into your cunt. he doesn't bother replying. instead, he hoist you up higher with one arm while the other snakes under your skirt. he inserts two fingers to join his tongue in assaulting your poor cunt, making your gasp as he rips out what seems to be your 6th orgasm of the session. "wa-wait, i don't think i can come anymore-" another knot released, your essence spilling all over leona's face, not that he mind. it doesn't seem like he plan on stopping soon, so you could only hope and pray that no one sees the both of you in this state..

what happened

malleus had you pressed in a mating position. your knees were pressed onto your chest as the fae prince pins both of your wrist down at the back of your knees with merely just one hand. your clothes were already discarded on the ground, exposing your bare form to the dark creature. malleus makes sure to take a good look at your pink puffy pussy that was already leaking in anticipation. he chuckles, already excited about the next sequence of event. pushing a finger in, you moan in delight when you felt his sharp claw grazing over your sensitive spot. once he confirmed your sweet delicate spot, he removes his finger from your cunt, swirling his tongue around his stained finger to get a taste of you. it wasn't long before he starts tongue fucking you, earning a scream from you

where did it happened

at diasomnia's lounge room, on the couch

when did it happened

midnight, around 12am, after most students had went to sleep

why did it happened

he was jealous at one of the jokes that his dorm member made so he felt territorial and wanted to mark you as his

who was involved

you and malleus..... and maybe lilia who has super hearing and can hear whatever that you guys are doing from miles away..

how did it happened

you were just casually sitting on the couch chatting away with a random year 1 diasomnia student about the school romance. the student had made a joke about how he would date you if you weren't dating his housewarden. unfortunately for the poor soul, malleus had just stepped into the lounge room and had heard everything. the student started sweating profusely before apologising and running back to his room. you noticed that malleus was just quietly staring at you, so you awkwardly stood up and offered to make some ice cream for him. it was then he step in closer to you and started tugging at the ends of your skirt..

bonus scene

it's unbelievable how this man can just spilt you apart with just his tongue. malleus's long forked tongue had proved to come in handy as it nestles itself deep inside your cunt, giving kitten kisses to your cervix. your walls were pulsating on his tongue, and malleus wanted to laugh when he was reminded of the events earlier. who would be able to make your little hole gush like a waterfall? who would be able to make your little hole open up like a needy slut? who would be able to see you in this state? only him. malleus is the only person who can make you feel this way, and see you in such a vulnerable state. "ma-mal! im comin-" and just like that, you milked on his tongue like a good little girl he expects you to be. he retreats back his tongue, licking his lower chin that was stained with your fluids before swallowing them down. malleus gives you a toothy grin when he noticed your red face. strong heavy arms lifts you up as he carries you bridal style, gathering you in his embrace. "beloved, we should continue this back in our room. don't worry, i will make you feel so good that you wouldn't think about anything or anyone, except for me."

[celestialspecial]

Palace of Stars and Shadows (Pt. 4)

You could feel his lips trailing over your skin, a tickling sensation with his scruff brushing along your collar bone. Leaving satisfying marks along your tender skin, large hands pressing you into the mattress and a strong thigh pushing your legs open for him to see.

“Gods, look at you. So beautiful…” another bruising kiss against your neck, teeth nipping and dragging over your shoulder until you cried out. “Humans are usually so meek, so fragile, but you- you’re so different aren’t you?”

All you could do was nod your head and bite you lip begging him to touch you were you needed it, where you were aching for him.

“Never seen a pussy this perfect before, is this what mortals are hiding from us? Or just you?” His hand moved from your neck, drifting down the center line of your body, just brushing your aching breasts then gliding over your stomach where he applied a touch more pressure before he was hovering over your core.

“William! Please I need you I-“ was all you could say watching him smirking down at you.

“You think you can take me, pretty girl? You’re already dripping for me, so beautifully-“ two fingers of his slid between your lower lips gathering the wetness before bringing it up to his mouth. You watched with wide eyes as he slipped them into his mouth, sucking the moisture off and groaning loud enough you swore the bed rumbled beneath you.

“Here I was thinking I’ve tasted every delicious morsel life has to offer, it seems I was wrong. And who am I to turn down a feast such as this..” you watched his head disappear between your legs as you gripped the bedsheets in anticipation.

You startled awake, realizing you had kicked off half the covers and were fisting the pillow next you to the point a few feathers were floating around. You had given William your name. The one thing you were never supposed to do with a faerie. Perhaps he was the one who sent that dream to you. Chest heaving you pushed up to a sitting position, running a hand through your mussed hair.

Standing to cross the room to your wardrobe and pulling on another dress that had been hanging there, dying to walk, to move, to be anywhere but this room. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you passed on the way to the door, realizing how frazzled you looked, unkempt. There was no doubt of your humanity when anyone caught sight of you, but you didn’t care at least not right now. Making your way through the many halls, nodding to passing fae servants.

A few gave you soft smiles, another few nodded. A turn down another winding hallway and a circular staircase up to gods knew where. You wondered if you could see over the entire forest from up high. Following the stairs, sounds of your feet tapping on the stone echoed around you bouncing off the walls as you went up and up. You were panting and out of breath by the time you reached the top.

Instead of an opening to a balcony like you expected there was a large wooden door, wood blackened with silver hardware and doorknob. You felt frustrated, hoping to have a better view of the gardens, or maybe even see where the forest ended and your world began once more. Maybe there was a library or tea room on the other side that did have windows from which to look out?

Turning the knob the door clicked open and you blinked into the darkness, after a few moments your eyes adjusted and the small window that wasn’t covered with thick drapes let enough light come in to allow you to maneuver into the space. There were plush velvet chairs and bookshelves as well as a dark wood desk with stacks of papers and more books. A few jars filled with glowing substances dotted along the books as well. It was a sitting room of some sort.

You ventured further in, eyes guiding you to where the window lay before you, hand reaching out to grasp the fabric and pull it back fully allowing more light to flow into the room. You were right, from the window you could see the miles upon miles of tangled forest, a very distant speck protruding from the earth you assumed was Tristan's castle and a silvery wall bracing the far edge of the forest where you could only assume was your old village.

How bizarre to think this castle was here always watching always keeping an eye over the village so close by and you never knew this existed. Your eyes wandered around the room again with renewed light, trailing along the floor seeing more piles of books, discarded clothing and a table off to the side filled with more magickal looking items. You found another window with heavy draperies tied shut, this room was massive, no wonder it needed multiple windows to fill it with light.

You tugged against the fabric, heavy velvet in your hand until you tugged once more and it slid to the side parting way and blanketing the floor and wall behind you in honey colored light. A noise came from behind you, soft, like breathing. Your blood ran cold, wondering what sleeping beast you might have awoken. Turning slowly you couldn’t see anything at first, eyes scrunched in the bright sunlight acclimating to where darkness met light.

A large four poster bed lay before you, similar drapes twisted along the bedposts that looked like trees as they grew up into various branches. Dark gossamer curtains hung obscuring your view but a sleeping form surely laid behind them. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest but you took another step forward, straining to see more. Hand bravely pushing forward and parting one of the slippery curtains and pulling it back until your felt your breath catch in your throat.

William lay asleep in the vast bed, multiple cushions along the massive sleigh headboard. His hair scattered along the pillow beneath him, Wild and dark, his pale skin glimmered in the newfound sunlight as his chest which was scattered in a smattering of dark hair rose evenly with each breath. He was also entirely nude, which had you blushing, a single silken sheet covered his bottom half, but one leg lay splayed open uncovered, leaving very little to the imagination.

He truly was a work of art, slim with corded muscles tracing along his body, long sturdy neck and trim waist with abdominals that only rippled as he exhaled. You settled back on his face, trying to ignore the desire pooling between your legs when taking in his lower half, semi-hard from the morning. Dark lashes fanned over his cheeks, a few lines on his forehead that seemed to soften in sleep. He looked so  peaceful when he slept, so beautiful, less intimidating.

You realized how long you were staring and took a step back to leave. You’d innocently believed this to be some sort of reading room and here you were gazing upon your host like he was fresh food for sale at market. As you tiptoed towards the door you pulled one of the curtains closed to settle a blanket of darkness once more over the room.

“What are you doing?” Freezing to the spot you cringed, knowing full well you’d been caught. Turning slowly you gasped seeing William standing before you, not more than a foot away.

“I’m so sorry, I thought this was a study, a den- not…”

“My chambers?” His voice was rough, gravely tinged with sleep, you could see the light in his eyes brighten the more he woke up. The heat in your cheeks was close to unbearable.

“I-I’m sorry I’ll go-“ you made your way towards the door in a hurried fashion before you heard him once more.

“Stay. Help me dress.” Your mind was dying to get away but your feet stayed planted on the floor. You could make out his form shifting into the shadows once more obscured before he returned wearing shorts to conceal himself.

You’d kept your eyes level with him but they’d begged to search lower, it didn’t help that your dream last night had included him and had been…so delicious. Clearing your throat briefly you managed to walk over to the chest of drawers, turning to him eyebrow raised in silent question. When he nodded you opened one of the drawers pulling out a dark tunic embroidered with silver strands along the collar and sleeves.

Placing it gently over his head as he situated his arms through the sleeves. You couldn’t help but stare at his sleep messed hair, long and dark almost glimmering in the light like his skin. He looked so human and yet you knew he wasn’t, there was an air to his presence that felt otherworldly. Dangerous yet beckoning.

Pulling a pair of his pants out of another drawer he simply reached out to take them from you, dressing the lower half of his body by himself as you searched for his belt and boots.

“On the other side of the bed.” He noted, not looking up at you while he tied the fastens of his pants. As you wandered over to the other side still encased in shadow William continued, “there is an event the House of Light holds every few years. A celebration or such.”

You’d found his leather belt and the pair of knee high black leather boots he usually wore, bringing them around to him holding the belt out first. Instead of taking it in his hands like the pants he instead raised his arms to the side, making room for you to move closer and adorn him yourself.

Ignoring the warmth peppering your cheeks you dropped the boots and proceeded with looping the belt through each fabric rung.

“What type of celebration?” His face seemed tight and drawn as he thought of the proper words to speak next,

“It’s a feast, full of dancing, drinking and giving thanks to the Gods in hopes they’ll continue to bless us.” You hmph’d in response, watching as he looked down at you, his turn to raise a brow in question.

“You’re fae, do you truly need more blessings? Are you not somewhat Gods of your own creation?” The amusement behind his brown eyes caught you off guard as you adjusted the belt into place, tightening the buckle and straightening it forward.

“Fae worship and give thanks just as humans do. Our ways may be different but they still are present.” He moved over to the bed, sitting on the edge to pull his boots on one by one.

“What is it like…this celebration of giving thanks and blessings?” When William was done hiking up his shoes you felt his stare wash over you once more.

“Have you heard of a Bacchanalia? It is not quite the same but similar enough.” You felt your heart begin to race thinking of the implications.

“This is a carnal event.” A clipped, succinct query.

“No, not purely. Many obviously do…engage but it is also a celebration In fertility of the body and our land. Our animals, the forest, and continued protection.” At that he stood, fully clothed and yet in more casual attire than you’d seen him wear thus far.

“Why are you asking me to attend? I feel this is purely for other fae. I’d be…well I’d be holding you back, wouldn’t I?” You couldn’t imagine William being able to relax, loosen his grip on watching you if you were both there. Then the other nagging thought that had you feeling sick to your stomach was the idea of him ‘engaging’ with other female fae there.

A fertility and thanksgiving festival surely seemed like the last place you should be, or would be wanted. He ran a hand through his hair, attempting to return some semblance of refinement to it.

“Other humans will be in attendance-“

Before he could continue you cut him off,

“You mean the slaves.” It felt bitter on your tongue, thinking of those poor souls you’d seen previously. Shades of their true selves, trapped in fae.

“YOU are not a slave.” His eyes were intensely focused on you, boring into your soul to drive home his words. But you couldn’t deny the confusion in your heart, no you weren’t treated poorly and yet you weren’t allowed to leave. To return to the human world, so in truth how free were you?

He could see the cogs turning over and over in your head, conjuring excuses, hesitation.

“There’s no one else I’d rather attend with-“ his response caught you off guard, but also created a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. “I promise you’ll be safe.” Unable to think of a reasonable reply you only nodded curtly, this seemed enough to please him as his posture softened.

“When is it?”

“A few days. Until then you’re free to wander the grounds, I must meet with members of the high council so I’ll be away until then but you’ll be taken care of.”

“What is the high council?” He only grinned at you before ushering you both towards the door, a signal that said he wasn’t going to fill you in as you’d hoped.

“A conversation for another day perhaps.” And with that you returned to your bedroom, looking out the stained glass window watching him mount his horse and ride off into the woods.

You explored the palace, admiring the large ballrooms, dining spaces, the large kitchen that was a chaotic mix of creatures baking bread and preparing meals. You took in the multiple bedrooms, each one adorned with a large bed, paintings and mirrors with gilded edges, you’d even found a large library that was two time as large as the inn back in your town.

Books in multiple languages you’d never seen before, some were locked with chains around them which created even more questions, others glimmered in the pale light when picked up, a supernatural glow to the pages with handwriting inside you couldn’t make out.

You returned to the gardens, using more digression and being sure not to eat anything, only look. Occasionally caressing a petal or leaf in vibrant colors. It had been two days since William left and you found yourself missing him more than you’d thought possible.

The feeling felt bizarre to you, he was still but a stranger and yet his presence provided you with more warmth and comfort than you’d experienced from any human in your village. A handmaiden that apparently had been assigned to you would appear every evening to guide you down the stairs for dinner and would turn down your sheets in the morning.

She had the signature pointed ears and auburn hair with freckles dotting along her cheeks, violet hued eyes and a kind smile. She’d move about the room while you red on your bed, watching her as she cleaned and watered the planets, even once you saw sparks of purple escape from her fingertips as she tended to a plant that looked to be sick or dying and it burst back to life.

“You’ve not told me your name?” You asked, setting your book aside for a moment, watching her in wonderment. A rosy blush crept up her cheeks and onto her pointy ears and you could’ve slapped yourself. “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting the power names have here…”

“It’s alright miss, it’s not so much a threat for…”

“Humans?” You ventured a guess at her pause. When she gave you a small smile and nod she continued.

“Humans knowing fae names is not very dangerous, seeing as you don’t possess magick.”

“Do all fae not address each other by name?” She giggled at her question and you guessed it must’ve been silly to ask.

“I apologize miss, I’m not intending to be rude. I’ve just never…spoke with a human before. We know one another’s names and address each other as such, mostly what you have heard is protection for mortals, and rightfully so.”

He violet hued eyes were downcast at that last remark, eyes laced with guilt of the actions other fae must have taken. “But my name is Lillibet.”

You gave her a small smile, wanting to change the subject.

“I’ve been asked to attend an event with William, is there…well is there a dress you think might fit the occasion?” Her eyes flitted back up to you, slightly wide, but also a mischievous nature to them as well.

“He has invited you to the Basking of the Light?” You shrugged in return, running an idle finger over the embroidery of the blanket on your lap.

“I guess? He only briefly described it to me- I’m hesitant if I should even go.”

“You must! It’s a great honor to go and thank the Gods for their good graces they’ve bestowed upon us. With any luck perhaps children will be conceived of that night.” When she saw your questioning look she picked up her skirts and moved closer to sit in the edge of your bed.

“Fae children are rare. Yes we live many years, but not forever. This night is celebratory for those that wish to conceive and all in attendance helping give thanks allow the chances to be that much higher, when the Gods see how many still worship them they are more likely to bestow these rare gifts.”

“Does everyone have to…participate in that?” You asked hesitantly.

“No, but it is a night of feasting, drinking and, should you wish it, enjoying the pleasures of the flesh.” You could feel your face heat at that.

“Why would William want to bring me to that? Surely he’d…well I assume he’d rather spend his time with other fae females.” It stung, a piercing prick in the center of your chest but you pushed on attempting to ignore it. The maid only shook her head.

“Not necessarily. William is coveted by many due to his power and beauty but he has shown no interest in any for a long time. That’s way so many have been curious about, well about you-“ yet again responses that lead to more questions than answers.

“I’m nothing special…”

“No you are, in some way. My master, well he….he wouldn’t be allowing you to stay in his castle, or eat his food or be under his protection unless there was a reason.” You didn’t know what to make of that but before you could lose yourself in those curious thoughts, she stood up moving towards the dresser and shifting through the clothing at a rapid pace until she stopped over one particular hanger.

“And if I were you, this would be the dress I’d wear to show all of fae that I am something special. And worthy of respect.”

[hellodarling1357]

Flames and Embers: Part 2 - Cassian x Vanserra!Reader (slow burn)

Thank you for all of the love on part one of Flames and Embers, it honestly means the world!

The next few parts will still have a bit of character set up, but I'm going off of this for everyone's (approx) ages because there will probably be a few different time line jumps throughout the chapters, at least until it's all caught up.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or if you've got any questions about this fic (or any of my others)!

I'm hoping to get a new chapter out every week. I've got a mass word doc already with so so so many ideas and little snippets that I'm so excited to properly write!

As always, requests are open!!

Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 2.6k

~ 528 years earlier ~

“But Father, I don’t want to go.” You were seven years old and had just been escorted to the entrance hall after being stuffed into a gown, hair done up in twirls with a small tiara placed atop your head.

Beron fixed you with a cold look as he assessed your appearance, causing you to shift on the spot as your brothers snickered behind his back.

“What did you say?”

“I just said that I didn’t want to go…” You trailed off, too late in realising your mistake.

Rule one, don’t question your High Lord.

Rule two, don’t talk back.

It made no difference that he was your father, your loyalty and obedience to his throne always came first, and within the span of just a few seconds, you had already broken the rules that had been outlined for you since before you could talk.

“If I say you are going, then you are going,” The lack of emotion in his voice sent chills over you, making you stare down at your feet to escape his pressing glare. “The only good that comes from having you as a daughter, is the chance of marrying you off and receiving a handsome dowery– “

“But Father, surely she is too young–“ The slap to the face that Eris received had the room coming to a standstill, even the snickering of your other brothers was silenced at the impact.

“Obviously she’s not getting married tonight, stupid boy. No, we need to start making her presence known, so that when the time comes it will be an easy enough transaction.”

You quietly sniffled, trying to hold back your tears. All you wanted to do was to run back upstairs and hide in your room. Your father turned back to the fae males who had silently watched the scene with smug smirks, resuming their previous conversation as you waited to depart for the Spring Court Ball.

With wide, watery eyes, you turned to face Eris. He had tried to help you and had gotten hurt in the process, but now he was back to his cold, distant self. This happened a lot, you had begun to realise. He would be warm and loving towards you, would try to protect you, but as soon as the others were around or it became too noticeable, he would act as though you didn’t exist.

You didn’t know what you had done wrong to have the others treat you like this, but you didn’t want to disappoint your father or your brother’s any further, so you wiped away your tears and raised your chin, silently waiting for the order to leave; slipping into the role of the perfect, silent female as you pushed away you worries surrounding the night ahead.

*****

The fae male your father worked with sneered down at you when he was ordered to winnow you to the Spring Court, still, you wouldn’t mention it to your father in case it was further reason for him to be angry with you, in case the male’s reaction was because of something you had done – not realising it was purely because you were a female who existed within the Autumn Court.

You timidly trailed in behind your brothers, who were pushing each other around as they followed your father into the glowing ballroom. Your family was announced upon entrance, and they all quickly dispersed into the crowd, leaving you lingering in the doorway with no idea what you should be doing; whether you should stay out of sight or if you should be following their lead. It was too late now; you had already lost sight of them so resorted to making your way around the edge of the room where you tried to copy what the other fae females were doing. It was too bad that none of them were anywhere near your age or bothered to acknowledge you in anyway. With a sigh you retreated to one of the shadowed corners and slumped into the seat as you observed the ballroom with disdain.

“Who are you?” The sudden appearance of the boy made you jump out of your chair, edging around it to create some distance between the two of you.

“Who are you?”

“I asked you first,” You warily glared at him, taking in his dark hair and violet eyes; he had to have been around the same age as you. There was a beat of silence before he continued, “I’m Rhys. Or Rhysand. But only my father calls me that. I much prefer Rhys. Did you know that I’m going to be a High Lord one day?”

You stayed silent, glancing around the room for any sight of your own father or brothers. Regardless of who this boy said he was, or who he was going to be, you knew your father wouldn’t approve of you talking to him and that it would most likely result in a lecture about maintaining appearances and, depending on his mood after tonight, a potential beating at your disobedience.

Oblivious to your discomfort, the boy, Rhys, continued talking, “Are you from Autumn?”

Your eyes shot towards him, before quickly looking around “Why? Why do you say that?”

That was another of your father’s rules broken if Rhy had already figured out who you were.

“Your hair,” You gave him a look of confusion, “It’s red?” He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yes, it is. By why does that mean I’m from Autmn?” Maybe you could try to throw him off, after all, your father had always said not to trust anyone from the other courts.

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t.” His face was a mixture of deep contemplation and intrigue. “But it’s a good guess. Look, that’s all the High Lord’s sons over there, and they all have red hair.”

You head whipped around so fast, fear widening your eyes but, thankfully, they weren’t paying any attention to you.

“Can I tell you a secret? But you have to promise not to tell anyone.” It seemed the future High Lord had already jumped onto his next trail of thought, no longer curious about which court you hailed from.

“I heard, and I wasn’t supposed to hear, but I did. I heard my father, he’s the Night Court High Lord, saying to the males he works with that the Autumn High Lord is,” He looked around, giving you a conspiratorial smile as he leaned in closer, lowering his voice to quote his father, “a real piece of work.”

Rhys looked at you, gauging your reaction to the scandalous piece of news. You froze, not sure how to respond, but then a giggle left you, followed by another and another. You tried to hide your smile behind your hand but the pleased look on Rhys’ face and his laugh that followed made you giggle even harder.

“Rhysand.” A stern voice bit through the air, halting you both mid laugh. “Come over here. Now.” You had frozen at the tone of the male’s voice, used to associating the coldness of it with some form of punishment. Rhys, however, didn’t seem too concerned as he merrily said, “See you later, Autumn.” and made his way over to where his father and a female, who you could only assume was his mother, stood.

*****

You shook your head as if to clear the memories that had begun to resurface after your encounter with Rhysand in the dungeon. A part of you yearned for the simplicity of your youth, however, you now knew that simplicity didn’t necessarily mean happiness. And that, in reality, the simplicity you had experienced was purely your own youthful ignorance to the world around you.

Weeks had passed since the bargain had been made and Rhysand was yet to properly utilise your side of the deal. Not that you were complaining. The only times he had even deigned to acknowledge you since that night always seemed to coincide with your visits to Feyre. You could now guarantee that within the hour of you return from the dungeons, his voice would infiltrate your mind; only ever asking how “Feyre Darling” seemed to be faring.

The night before Feyre’s final task had arrived all too quickly. The party was in full swing – the fae around you drank and lounged and danced, others stood around laughing and singing as though they had no care in the world.

You stood with Lucien against a wall, both of you had a drink in hand but that was as festive as you would allow yourself to appear, especially when considering what Feyre would be facing tomorrow.

Neither of you talked much in public, leaving the decades worth of missed conversations for when you managed to find some quiet in the privacy of your own rooms. Instead, you observed the partygoers together and kept an eye out for the rest of your brothers and your father. Your mother was a rare sight at events such as these, over the years she had become more and more reserved, now, however, you couldn’t blame her one bit. Especially when considering the sight you were forced to witness as two young fae females sat draped across the arms of the seat your father occupied; you turned away in disgust, a scoff from Lucien was the only acknowledgement that he had also noticed.

Lucien pulled you from your thoughts with an elbow nudged into your side, inclining his head towards where Tamlin had silently moved to stand next to Feyre. You smiled at the sight, knowing how much she had missed him. At the sight of Tamlin sauntering off and Feyre trying to casually follow after him, you and Lucien shared a knowing smirk. All too suddenly, that small flicker of joy was extinguished with a scrape across your mental shield.

“Eyes and ears. Y/N, dearest”.

He offered no further instruction, but you knew what, who, he was referring to. With a disgruntled sigh, you pushed off the wall, murmuring to your youngest brother that you would see him later, before making your way through the crowd and out the door that Feyre and Tamlin had disappeared through.

The scene before you in the long stretch of corridor had you hesitating as you quietly shut the door behind you. They were clearly too caught up in, well, one another to even realise they were no longer alone. Also, seemingly oblivious to the fact that anyone could have walked in on them; you didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if they had been caught by someone else.

“Is this what you were wanting?” You shot back at Rhys, showing him the sight before you.

“I appreciate your efficiency. Best to make yourself scarce.” He purred back. You were too tired to think about what his words meant.

Not wanting to head back to the party that was becoming more and more unruly as the night went on, you made your way up the stairs and headed to your room, careful not to disturb Feyre and Tamlin as you passed by, hoping to allow them even just a moment of peace. You knew you wouldn’t be sleeping, not with the thought of what was to come tomorrow, but at least you would have a bit of quiet before everything changed, whether that be for the worse or the better.

*****

“Well, you certainly maintained your knack for having perfect timing over the years.”

The drawl of Rhys’ voice and his sudden appearance by the small window in your room had you jumping back, heart beating furiously in your chest.

“What do you want?” You voice was a low snarl as you glared at the High Lord, too tired and too fed up with the situation at hand to feign even an ounce of respect.

“I’m hurt, I thought you were beginning to warm up to me, what with your recent little trips down memory lane,” He tapped a finger to the side of his head, making a snarl appear on your face at the implication. “Seems as though you’ve been thinking about a lot of people from our past lately.” This was the most either of you had ever acknowledged the friendship you had once shared; of the other life you were so close to having before it was so cruelly snatched out of your hands.

“Stay out of my head.” He simply chuckled in response as he leant against the wall, silently observing you as he absentmindedly picked at his dark dress shirt.

“Why did you have me do that? You couldn’t allow Feyre a moment of happiness before whatever she has planned for her tomorrow?” You quickly changed the subject before he decided to delve even deeper into those memories of the past, your voice spitting out the word in reference to Amarantha.

You were surprised at the scoff Rhys let out, a scowl of his own appearing on his face at the thought of what he had walked in on, what you had shown him.

“Utter fools,” he seemed to say to himself as he crossed the room and sat in one of the old armchairs. “You're honestly telling me you don't see what was wrong with that whole…situation?”

Honestly? No, you didn’t. But you weren’t going to offer up an ounce of conversation as he begun making himself at home.

“He had a chance. A chance to get Feyre out. But instead, he wastes the opportunity on a quick fuck,” Your eyebrows narrowed at his words. That was not what you were expecting him to say, but now that you thought about it… Rhys hurriedly continued, voice laced with irritation, “If you were even just a minute later with showing me what was happening, it would’ve been too late for me to intervene, and then Amarantha would have seen everything.”

“I don’t understand…”

“That bitch would have killed Feyre on the spot if she had seen the two of them together. And if Feyre is dead… well, then the rest of us are well and truly fucked because there will be no other chances of getting out of this mess.”

His candour had your head spinning in cartwheels, still trying to catch up on the implication of his words, his actions.

“So…,” You started, still piecing it all together, “you were trying to protect her? After everything you’ve done, you, what? Suddenly grow a conscience?”

He just gives you an incredulous look before standing up with a disappointed sounding sigh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, YN.” The dark shadows start to gather around him but something in your stomach felt unsettled at his sudden departure.

“Wait, Rhys? What’s your end game here? What are you planning?” The shadows disappeared the moment the words were out, a smug grin appearing on his face.

“So, it’s back to being Rhys again, is it? Here I was thinking you preferred to call me Rhysand nowadays.”

Letting out a scoff you rolled your eyes. For a fleeing moment he had seemed so much like the male you had once known. Now, however, the new asshole version of him stood before you again; the epitome of arrogance and entitlement.

“Honestly, I would prefer to call you a prick, but it doesn’t seem overly appropriate, High Lord.” You offered a mocking curtsey.

A deep laugh escaped him as the darkness gathered around his shoulders again, leaving you with a final, “goodnight, Y/N.” then you were once again alone in your room, the dread of what tomorrow would bring curling itself around you.

*****

Thanks for reading 🥰

Tag List: @dr4g0ngirl @esposadomd @judig92 @hnyclover @sarawritestories @anotherbook-obsessedhoe @macimads @gorlillaglue25

[feyreswaterybowels]

⭒The Silent One⭒

#2 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Cassandra decides to join the IC for dinner. Things feel weird and wrong but also…safe and comfortable. She opens up to them about her past traumas and gets to know more about them.

Warnings/Tags: mentions physical and visual sexual abuse in the recent past. describes physical violence. trauma. mute character. slow burn. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Regular italics are inter thoughts while bold italics are her communicating with other people mentally.

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“Relax,” Nuala cooed as she helped Cassandra ease into the large bath, warm and floral scented.

Cassandra had never been in a bath like this. Only one suited for regular fae without wings. They had been cramped and uncomfortable and nearly impossible to bathe everywhere without hurting a wing. But this bath? It was huge and could easily fit multiple people with and without wings. It stretched all the way to one of those glassless windows where the water spilled over in a soothing stream.

She leaned back when Nuala prompted, letting her wings float in the water. It was so nice the way they felt so weightless. Nuala tilted her head back and their eyes met as she cupped her hands with water and poured it over Cassandra’s white hair. She lathered it with a nice smelling soap, massaging at her scalp.

It was difficult to lay there and relax while someone else washed her hair. It reminded her of the mistress, how when she bathed her and washed her hair it was rushed and rough and…and when she washed her hair like this she would sometimes push her head under the water and hold her there—

Cassandra bolted up with a gasp, hands coming up to wipe away the water that fell down from her hair and over her face, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She whirled around, wide eyes catching Nuala’s, trying to desperately apologize for what she had done. The female just shook her head gently.

“It’s okay,” She said, “would you like to be left alone for a moment?”

Cassandra considered this, she both wanted to be alone and have someone else around. But she nods her head. Cerridwen walked in then, a stack of something in her hand.

“Clothes for you,” she said, sitting the stack on a shelf across the room. “We will be back but if you finish with your bath and wish to dress before we return the clothes will be here.”

Cassandra nods. She doesn’t know what else to do, but the females seem to understand, offering her small nods in return before leaving the room—the heavy door closing as they leave the bedroom the bedroom.

She sinks down in the water once she’s sure she’s alone. So much has changed in such a short time and she’s still not sure if this is all real. These people…they could change any moment. Drag her from this huge room and throw her into a prison cell and use her for whatever they pleased.

Turning in the water she pushed herself towards the other end of the tub, the one that waterfalls over the edge. What she sees there takes her breath away, an audible gasp leaving her lips.

The first thing she notices is all the lights, it looked exactly like the painting she saw with Morrigan. There was so much to look at. But what she really wanted to see was the beautiful sight above that. The night sky. The thousands of stars twinkling above, surrounding a bright moon.

She could have cried looking at the sight. But not because she felt sad, she felt safe. Comfortable. Content. Like this was where she was meant to be.

Eventually she did get out of the bath, drying herself off with the fluffy white towel that was unnaturally warm. She stopped in front of the mirror, surprised at her own reflection. She looked so different from the last time she actually saw herself. Her skin that was once a golden caramel color was lighter and ashen, dark circles under her green eyes. Her white hair slicked back with water was thinner than when it used to fall in thick ringlets as a girl. Her rib cage and hip bones protruding in a way they always had but wished they hadn’t. She had wanted a thicker, fuller body like the girls she saw at the pleasure houses. A strong body like her mothers used to be. A body that could hold up her wings and maybe one day…fly.

She had gotten dressed before Nuala and Cerridwen returned. The clothes weren’t like anything she’d ever worn before. Cream colored pants that were lined with a fuzzy material that was softer than anything she’d ever worn before. The top was a matching cream, flowy top with sleeves that stopped at her elbows and buttoned up the back to accommodate her wings. The shoes were white, flat and slipped on her feet easily.

She chose not to attend dinner that night. She wasn’t sure she could stomach any food. The twins looked disappointed. Her decision had been made to gauge how she would be treated if she didn’t have dinner with this high lord male.

She didn’t leave her room the following day either.

Or the day after that.

No one bothered her. No one came to drag her from the room kicking and screaming. No one beat on the door or called her horrible names. No one held her down or forced the food into her mouth. In fact no one except Nuala and Cerridwen came to her room at all.

And when they came they would bring a small tray of food, she only ever drank the tea and ate the biscuit and left everything else. She didn’t want to take too much before knowing if she was expected to do something in return.

When she finally felt safe enough she agreed to dinner on her fourth night. Nuala bathed her again. She couldn’t help the panic that overcame her once again as the female washed her hair but she cooed at her, soothingly before getting up and leaving her to finish alone as she had the first night.

Cerridwen took on fixing her hair, drying and styling it into waves that fell over her shoulders. Once she was done and dressed Nuala put a cream on her face and spritzed her with something that smelled sweet.

When they were done she felt like a different person. She felt clean. Comfortable. Alive.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on her feelings of finally leaving the room before Nuala and Cerridwen pulled her up and escorted her down the maze of hallways.

“Just two doors down, you’ll find the dining room,” Cerridwen pointed down the hall with a small smile. Cassandra wanted to ask why they weren’t also joining but when she turned to face them they were just gone as if they disappeared into thin air.

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Walking into the dining room was a weird feeling. Cassandra didn’t feel like she belonged there. In the fancy room, with a huge table filled with foods…foods she had never seen before. The four people she had met three days ago—and another she hadn’t met, all sat around the table talking in hushed whispers.

Azriel was the first to look over. His eyes met hers and offered her a small smile. “Cassandra,” his deep voice greeted.

“I’m glad you decided to join us this evening, please come sit,” Rhysand said, standing and motioning to the empty seat next to him, where Azriel would be on her other side—Morrigan in front of her and Cassian next to her. The other female at the opposite end of the table from Rhysand.

Cassandra hesitated for only a moment before walking over and realizing that the chair was designed to accommodate wings. She wouldn’t have to sit at some weird angle to be comfortable. Her eyes meet Azriel’s, the gentle look on his face a comfort she needed. He stood from his spot, sliding the chair out and gesturing for her to sit.

She felt eyes on her as she scanned all of the food in front of her. She had never seen so much food.

“I trust everything went okay the last few days?” Rhysand asked as he took his own seat once again.

“I freaked out a little when Nuala was washing my hair…” Cassandra admitted, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“That’s okay, no need to be upset. You’ve been through a lot, it’s expected. Nuala and Cerridwen are understanding and won’t hold it against you. You have my word on that.”

She wanted to say thank you again but didn’t feel it was appropriate. She didn’t know what else to say so she nodded her head and looked towards that other female, freezing as she looked into glowing silver eyes. She had never seen anything so…beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

A snort to her side caught her attention and she looked at Rhysand.

“Sorry, I just heard that,” Rhysand said, Cassandra’s eyebrows pulled together before realization dawned on her. The comment about the other female… “Amren.” Rhys supply’s the name.

She looks back to the female, to those eyes that make her not want to look away.

“Hello, girl,” She greets, and it’s not a terrifying rumble, but a genuine greeting.

Cassandra offers a small smile, feeling a draw to the small female. No one else spoke so she reached for a plate but before her fingers could even graze it, it filled with food before her eyes. She blinked at it in shock, looking to Rhysand to see if he had done it.

There was a small smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“The house is enchanted, it does what it pleases. You wanted food so it filled your plate for you,” Azriel spoke, she looked over at him then back at the plate.

Oh, wow. She thought…the food had even been diced into smaller pieces as she had told Rhysand. Her eyes fell on the wine glass in front of her—she wouldn’t drink it, couldn’t, so she looked at Azriel again then around the room. Water. And just like that, a glass of water appeared in front of her.

Cassandra felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, eyes meeting Azriel’s again then Rhysands before she grabbed the glass of water.

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“It’s pretty awesome, right?” Cassian spoke, his long hair that had been pulled back earlier now fell to his shoulders.

Cassandra nodded in answer, sitting her glass back on the table. Rhys took his seat, grabbing his wine glass, silently observing the female as she reached for her fork.

“I’ve never had this much food before…”

Rhys isn’t surprised but he’s not expecting the words and they make his heart hurt.

“Eat as much as you’d like,” Rhys says warmly, watching as she scoops up some warm potatoes and brings them to her lips.

“Mm” she hums, eyes closing. “That’s so good!” Rhys doesn’t answer, he can tell she’s not speaking to him consciously, she’s just thinking, not a single mental shield to protect her fragile mind.

It’s the next bite that wipes the small mine from all the faces. No longer an exploratory bite but a ravenous one. One after another, eating quickly and without restraint. Eating in a way that meant she had been starving, had never had an adequate food supply, had never been allowed to eat more than what was given.

She didn’t speak and neither did they. None of them would tell her to stop or slow down, all having been there at some point in their lives. They had all known that hunger at one point or another. So they let her eat. And drink. And eat some more.

Potatoes. Greens. Fruit. Meat. Bread. A plate appeared next to her holding a slice of cake and she ate that too—she had never had cake before but no one else at the table knew that.

It’s only when her plate is empty that anyone speaks up. It’s Cassian that asks, “How do you feel you’re settling in?” It’s an attempt to bring about a conversation without making her uncomfortable.

Cassandra takes a slow sip of water, breathing deeply as she does before looking at Rhysand who nods in confirmation that he’ll give her answer.

“Honestly…I feel more comfortable here than I have ever felt anywhere else.”

“That’s wonderful! We want you to be as comfortable as possible,” Morrigan chimes in, excited as if she’d been waiting to talk to Cassandra for the past three days. “When we didn’t see you for three days we were worried—well I was. The boys wanted to give you some space.”

“I didn’t know what was expected of me,” she says, Rhysand repeats her and she’s met with confused frowns. “That’s why I stayed away, didn’t eat much. I didn’t know if anything would be…expected of me in return if I did.”

“You have no debt to us, Cassandra. Nothing is expected of you,” Rhysand speaks, his voice firm but gentle. “If you wish to come to dinner you eat your fill until you’re satisfied. If you need clothes you wear what you like and it’s yours to keep. Nothing will ever be taken or held against you as punishment of any kind.”

Cassandra blinks at him, feels the wetness in her eyes as she nods. There’s just one nagging question in her mind, one she needs an answer to before she gets too comfortable.

“Why am I here then?” She asks, setting her fork down on a freshly filled plate, half as full as before.

Rhysand lets out a sigh before telling the others what she’d asked.

“You are here because I received word from one of Azriel’s spies—I’ll give you a more in depth explanation on what that means at another time—that pleasure houses in my court were buying and selling females against their will,” Rhysand begins to explain. “See we have many pleasure houses in Velaris but it has always been law that consent is the main requirement for anyone involved. Those who work or visit have to be there because they want to be there.”

“So, when we got word this law had been broken, Rhys sent us out to patrol the pleasure houses,” Azriel said, drawing her attention to him, “he needed solid proof of the law being broken before he could step in. Cassian and I, we saw you there. Scared. Frightened. Clearly not there of your own free will and didn’t feel it was safe for you to stay there.”

Cassandra looked at him, taking in the shadows swirling around him. His kind hazel eyes, the blue siphons glowing on his scarred hands. Remembered how when her eyes first landed on him on the other side of those bars she had been absolutely terrified of him.

“What about the…Mistress?” She asked turning away from Azriel to look at Rhysand.

“You no longer have to call her mistress, her name is Kamari. She is still here in our cells, she’s not been harmed. We are working to gather some intel from her. Who her bosses are, where they are buying the females and any other information we can get from her. She’s been cooperative in giving us the information we need to stop this from happening to any other females,” Rhysand said, eying the female in front of him before looking to his second in command.

“Do you have any information that may help us, girl? Anything we could use against that female to get more information?” Amren asks, fixing her smoky eyes on the female.

Cassandra was quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to piece together everything she could remember. She looks up and nods her head. Everyone seemed to sit a little straighter, their full attention on her alone.

“My father is the one who sold me to a male named Vale. Blue skin, a long deep scar across his face, black eyes…mean and very strong—”

Rhysand hold his hand up, relaying the information to Azriel and you watch curiously as one of his shadows darts away and out of a window.

“Cassandra, do you mind if I open up a channel for everyone to hear what you say to me? It will help us find these people,” Rhysand asks, she doesn’t need to think before she nodded. She wanted to help in any way she could. Help any girls going through what she did and stopping more from going through it.

“Please, continue,” Rhysand encouraged.

“The male, Vale, had bought other females. He kept me me in a dark room under his home with three other females. He—he raped one of the girls many time but not me or the other two girls. He said he would get more money for us if we stayed…untouched.” Cassandra’s stomach rolled at the memories. Nauseated, remembering the cries of that poor girl every time that man came down stairs and hurt her. She could see the anger in the eyes that surrounded her, could practically feel it radiating from them. Their fists and jaws clenched tightly, wings rigid and shoulders taunt. But she continued.

“I stayed there for a few months before he took me to that…pleasure house? I’m not sure what happened to the other girls. I think he may have kept the one he raped.”

“Do you know their names?” Cassian asks and she’s nods. How could she ever forget them?

“Seera, Juno and Neema. I believe Seera and Juno were sister but I’m not completely sure. We tried not to talk too much because it made the male very angry,” She took a deep breath, trying not to remember the time he had nearly crushed her throat for merely asking to use the bathroom.

Unbeknownst to her she had sent that mental image to them who were seething with anger at what this poor girl had gone through.

“Once I was at that place I was introduced to Miss—I was introduced to Kamari,” She continued, needing to get away from the memories of that male. “She was in charge of my training. She stripped me naked, told me I would never own a pair of clothes again. That I was to be naked and ready for any male to take me whenever they pleased. I was to learn things that would…please these males. Anytime I refused I was beaten. So, for months I watched other females pleasure males in many ways. But only watched. They said—she said I would be sold for a lot of money for being untouched. That whoever paid the most could do whatever they wanted to me. When I saw the two of you I thought—” She swallowed thickly eyes shooting between Azriel and Cassian. “I though you were going to—”

Her voice cracks and she looks away. Morrigan pushes out of her chair, walking around the table. “Can I hug you?” She asks.

All Cassandra can do is nod letting Morrigan wrap strong arms around her. Hugging her tightly. Holding her in a way that reminded her of her mother before she died. After a moment Morrigan pulls away offering a napkin to wipe her eyes.

“Cassandra, dear, we can be done for today if it’s too much to continue,” Rhysand offers gently.

She nods gently, feeling as if maybe she wasn’t much help at all. The rest of dinner is spent in silence, Cassandra hunched into herself while the other four fae think about killing everyone who hurt this innocent girl and many more.

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It’s later that evening when Cassandra slips from her room. The stone floor is cold under her feet and the satin nightgown doesn’t do much to keep the cold from her skin so she tucks her wings around her body.

She makes her way to the roof of the house, a training area the twins had told her was up here—they had also told her it was the best place to view the stars.

It’s a breathtaking sight. The wind whips her hair around as she walks to the edge. The lively city sparkling below while the endless sky shines above. Beautiful. She sighs gazing at the sight of the silver moon and tapestry of stars.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here at this time,” Cassandra spins around, sighing in relief when she spotted Azriel, she hadn’t heard him come out at all.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I always loved looking at the stars,” She said, grateful Rhys had made it to where she could communicate—at least with the few people here.

Azriel gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart stutter. “No need to apologize, that's why I’m out here too. The night sky has always been…soothing.”

She turns back to the ledge as he walks closer.

“You know, my father he was ashamed to have children with wings,” Cassandra said, as Azriel watched her from the side, her white hair shining in the moonlight—those green eyes glowing again. “He kept us locked away, and didn't want anyone to see us. My mother had her wings taken when she was a teenager. She said normally they just clipped them but her father was especially cruel and completely took hers away. Well, when my father was drunk enough or didn’t come home some evening my mother would bring us out and let us look at the stars, she taught us the constellations. And I got to see Starfall with her only one time before she died. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. After she died I never saw the stars again—not until the night you and Cassian took me away from that horrible place.”

Azriel did his best to simmer his anger, to clutch his shadows tightly that so badly wanted to reach out and comfort the female—to wipe away the glistening tears on her cheeks. She looks over at him then and he looks up at the sky so as not to reach out for her.

“Your mother seems like a lovely woman,” He says, hoping the opportunity to talk about her mother may make her feel better.

The smile that came over her face wasn’t what he was expecting. The way it lit up her face had his shadows singing in his ear. Beautiful. She’s beautiful.

She wiped her cheeks with one hand and nodded.

“She was amazing. She tried to protect us from him but she was just as afraid of him as we were. She didn’t know how to get out. But she took care of us. She was still young when she died—he says she died from taking some kind of herbs, that she took her own life. But I—I always believed he did it.” Azriel took in a shuttery breath.

“I’m sorry,” He said, struggling to find the words to comfort her.

“Me, too. I wish I could have protected her the way she protected me. But now she’s up there with the stars looking over us. Watching me, I think she would be happy I got out. I just hope I can help protect someone else the way I should have protected her.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from the ledge. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel watched her walk away. Night gown blowing in the wind, the beautiful broken girl disappearing into the shadows.

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