#him giving up immortality wasn’t for her it’s so much bigger than that

[marsconer]

can we stop looking at everything percy and annabeth do through the percabeth lenses ? it’s starting to be detrimental to both of their characters.

[followafallingstar]

How you meet Michael - Cordelia

Summary: On Michaels first day off since working with Dean and Sam he goes for a walk and sees you playing in the water with your sisters. When he noticed that you were staring at him he investigates and finds a new purpose to fight for. A soulmate.

Pairing: Michael/reader, Michael/witch

Disclaimer: soulmate au

Soulmate au: God created a soulmate for each one of his children. For angels finding their soulmate is one of the most honorable tasks they could achieve due to the amount of luck they must have since the soul of a human mate can be sent to earth at any time during the existence of humanity. But when an angel does meet their other half their loyalty to god switches to their mate, protecting them at all costs. Feelings such as love and lust are only acceptable and archivable for angels when they meet their soulmate and that only to the mate too so acts of unloyalty or cheating don’t exist in their world.

The sun was shining brightly, and the shimmering hues it created were being deflected into the ocean, giving it the beautiful blue color that resembled his wings. Massive, shiny, and paired in six, three on each side. Each one of them is bigger than the lower one. For humans invisible but for you strangely that wasn’t the case, not that you knew that you weren’t supposed to see them.

At first, you were sure he was a freak who didn’t know that Halloween is in October and not in late July but the more you watched the man the more you were sure he wasn’t normal. You asked your youngest sister “Goldie, do you see that?”. While your sister held her gaze in the same direction as you, she didn’t notice anything out of the blue. You frowned, sensing that the man wasn’t just walking around with wings for no reason. Just as you were to turn your back on him and shift your attention to the volleyball you have been playing with in the water, his eyes met yours.

Something about the way he looked at you made you feel vulnerable as if he could read you like a book. And of course, you didn’t know, he could. His eyes wandered, to your dark eyes, your long black hair that was neatly up in a bun, the small silver necklace you wore that had a small star engraved in it, to your blue bikini that matched the color of the water you were in. His color.

His grace flutters and so does his wings. A small yet deep sensation erupts inside of the brown-haired archangel as he looks at you. Your stare didn’t go unnoticed by him, he wasn’t sure why you would give him your attention, maybe you had a sixth sense that could detect supernatural beings, maybe you just found his vessel attractive, or maybe you were that something that was missing.

He could just look into your mind but what would be the purpose of that if you were just a mortal, after all, a lower being? But the feeling didn’t vanish, the feeling of want and need that he felt for the first time since his creation, something he shouldn’t feel.

At first he just wanted to take a walk, take a good look at Earth, the creation his father loved so much. Free time wasn’t something he had a lot when working and living with Sam and Dean in the bunker but when he did have it he tried to spend it wisely. Even if time was something that he had plenty enough of, in the long run that is, as an immortal being.

His feet moved on their own, going down the marble stairs where he had been stopping and walking closer to the beach, his wings folded neatly behind him as he moved.

At the same time, your movement changed too, your eyebrows raised as he came closer. Maybe he was one of your customers at the shop yet that couldn’t be since you remember every single one of your customer's faces or spiritual power. You excused yourself from your sisters, walking out of the water to the nearby beach shop that sold drinks and snacks. As you are about to enter his voice interrupts your busy mind that was occupied with finding out who he could be.

“You are different,” he said. The way he spoke made you shiver, cold and calculated yet so soft. Turning around to him your eyes wander from his sapphire eyes to his wings again. His eyes were fixated on you and as he noticed that your gaze wandered to the space behind him, to his muscles that were his pride and joy the corners of his lips slowly turned up and he gave you his hand to shake.

“My name is Michael,” he said now in a much gentler tone, warm and friendly. You shook his hand, not knowing the future you have been setting for yourself with that move, and answered

“Call me Cora”.

[cookiesupplier]

A Friend Down In Hell - Part Four

pairing: Nick Folio x ofc (Ishtar)

warnings/tropes: slow burn, pining, idiot in love, language, drinking, mentions of violence, mentions of torture, mentions of religious mythology. (potentially more to be added)

summary: Folio can't quite tell you how long he's been dead, but it doesn't matter when he has friends like his, and Ishtar. Ishtar, with whom he fell in love the moment he met her. The problem? She doesn't know it. How does he convince a demon, who is practically immortal, to date him when he's dead? How did Ellie do it so easily?

author’s note: Unbetaed.. Enjoy!

tags: @spicywhenspeaking @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @lyschko666 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @sorrowsofsilence @collapsedglasshouses @vinyardmauro @dsireland86 @4rtificialfolio @emmmm127 @badomensls

Tag lists are open, please let me know if you'd like to be added to this story, the Hell-Verse as a whole, or Everything.

Chaos erupted.

Ellie had come out of the bathroom just in time to see the female demon not only getting too close, and Nicholas trying to call her on that, but she was also trying to kiss Noah. The probable kiss, she didn’t just try, she did, she took full advantage of the fact that he was too drunk to move fast enough to push her away quickly. Delusional enough to think one kiss would be magic, and he wouldn’t push her away, and he was, her lips were firmly on hips as Ellie came out and screeched..

It might seem stupid to some, but the moment he heard the screech, Nicholas abandoned the demon and went to stop Ellie from getting involved..

As much as Ellie had weapons training, one, she had been drinking, two, the other girl was a demon so even without training, she was bigger, more durable, and physically stronger than Ellie, and without Ellie being sober.. Not to mention armed with magical weapons.. Nicholas wasn’t about to let her take ANY chances. Not even against an unskilled demon like that little bitch. Noah would kill him when he was sober if Ellie got hurt.

Noah, as drunk as he was could take care of himself still, he had at leas regained himself enough to start pushing the girl away, even if she was pushing herself back against him, he was standing up with a growl, his demonic face taking form.. Unfortunately, that just made the demoness giggle and give into her own demonic nature.. Suggesting they were so much better together than the little human-

“Alright, that's it, I’m going to stop you before you get yourself killed in your sleep.. One more word and I’m not sure if it would be him or her, Missy.” Ishtar grabbed the girl and was fully prepared to quite literally drag her out by her hair.. Did she care that she wasn’t supposed to be the muscle in the bar? That this wasn’t her job, that there was a bouncer that was decidedly not doing his job right now, but she was doing it for him… Nope. All she cared about was making sure that Ellie didn’t have to hear the next word coming out of that little bitches mouth. It wasn’t going to be a nice one, and just because she wasn’t speaking English when she said it, didn’t mean that Ishtar didn’t know what she was saying, word for word.. Whether Ellie knew, or not, she didn’t care. Whether those boys would translate or not, she didn’t care, she should never, be called such a thing in any tongue just for loving one of them, just because she was a human soul. It was disgusting, and it showed that even in the Afterlife some of them were classist between the living and the dead. Rude. Ishtar wasn’t, then again, Ishtar had a whole different class issue she could use against the bratty demon if she pressed her, watch the little bitch try.

When she turned to mouth off at her, Ishtar’s eyes glowed in defiance, daring her, and instantly the girl wilted, so she gripped her arm, glancing over to Nicholas,

“Are you good with them?”

Ellie and Noah? Nicholas nodded holding Ellie who was still struggling against him, he was trying not to grip her too tightly, that much she could see, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to struggle much at all, and Noah was swaying on his feet a little. Alright then. She dug her claws into the girl's arms a little, just to be spiteful, she was in a mood now, just smirking as the girl complained, she was just lucky she wasn’t drawing blood, and dragged her out of the bar, and leaving Nicholas to handle the other two.

Ellie was enraged.

The next morning, she had turned up with an extra foul-tasting hangover cure for Folio, and watched with a vindictive pleasure as he drank it. Claimed it was extra strength, and that she figured he’d need the extra boost after how bad Noah’s hangover had been that morning, so she made sure to give him the extra vitamin mix he’d needed.. Don’t worry, he still could have his wrap for after he choked it all down, she promised him that when she handed over the smoothie.

So yes, Folio had pouted when Ellie held the greasy wrap hostage.. That was the deal they’d come up with. She’d bring the healthy, admittedly disgusting (that was how he knew it was so healthy, it tasted like it was trying to kill him) smoothie, and he brought the greasy, delicious everything-breakfast-wrap from the diner across the road from his apartment on the way to work. That was the deal, he handed over the wraps, she handed over the smoothies. After that first night at the bar together, this was what they had agreed to, they would have both, because Folio decided that Ellie had to be some sort of masochist to insist on these stupid smoothies, and to make him have one too.. But also make sure he mistakenly agreed to have his wrap with her.. after the smoothie.

So here he was, choking down the extra strong smoothie, because of the massive hangover.. Fuck, what did she put in those things to make it even worse than usual?! Noah must have been so destroyed last night if he’d been so bad that Ellie had made him a smoothie. Folio had always assumed he’d just magicked away his hangovers, he always had before. He held his nose, and drank down the vile liquid, gagging at the taste, and how did the smell still get through his sense of smell despite his attempt to block it, shit shit shit..

Swallow swallow swallow, he thumped the tumbler down on the table heavily and threw his hands out at Ellie, flapping.

“Oh god, shit shit shit, wrap wrap wrap, please… it's killing me, Ellie, I’m BEGGING YOU!”

His tongue was going to rebel against him with the taste of that poison on his tongue.. She put kale in it, and he’d hate her for it, except her damn stupid hangover smoothie always made his head feel better after an hour than it ever had before he started drinking it.

Actually.

Sometimes he hated her a bit more for that.

Damn her for being right.

He never felt perfect, but he felt better than he used to anyway. Less like he wanted to die, at least. Sometimes he wondered if this wasn’t more some kind of conditioned reaction, except the fact she drank the damn smoothies too, and the look on her face told him she hated them just as much.

Funny, though, she didn’t drink the same one today.

Folio however didn’t realise that little titbit until she had caved, handed over the wrap with a glare, and he’d wolfed it down, and chased it with half a bottle of water. Sitting there, and letting the glorious greasiness of his breakfast wrap settle in his stomach as he looked over to Ellie, it hit him..

She’d had the normal smoothie. Don’t ask him how he’d been able to tell the difference between a normal evil smoothie that tried to kill him, and the psychotic mastermind evil smoothie that was quietly churning away at the insides of his stomach right now. He could just tell, okay, HE COULD TELL!. Glancing at Jolly, and then back at Ellie, and then back at Jolly,

“She didn’t have the extra strength smoothie, did she?”

“Don’t look at me, you drank the thing.”

His eye narrowed at Ellie as she sat at her desk, clicking away at the computer, her wrap half finished, she didn’t eat as fast as he did, something about not being a human vacuum cleaner, he took that as a compliment thank-you!

“Why, Ellie, did you make two different smoothies when you could have just made one, isn’t that a.. Waste? Not to mention, think about the health benefits.”

Okay, that felt horrible to say, he just betrayed himself saying it too, he shuddered at the thought, he was no health nut, and he wasn’t about to start now thank you very much! Ew. No can do. He liked his greasy breakfast wraps as a hangover cure far too much to consider it. Still, his point was her, she, believed in the health benefits of the smoothies, right? Right?

“Punishment. Technically, you were the only one that drank one of those.”

“But, Noah-”

She scoffed,

“Noah only drinks the smoothie, because he knows that if he uses magic to get rid of his hangover first, he won’t get laid for at least a week.”

Jolly snickered from behind his book, looking over now that he deigned it worthy of looking up from the pages to smirk towards Ellie. If only for the moment. He had no idea what had happened after he’d left the bar with Folio last night, but from the mood Ellie had been in since she’d arrived, he had a feeling it was not good, and he was getting a feeling Folio was about to pay for it… Punishment she said.

“Now that is some Pavlov shit right there, fuck me.”

Folio frowned,

“Fine, but why am I the one being punished here, I’m not your boyfriend that must have done something stupid last night to piss you off. I went home, I didn’t do anything to you.”

He shrugged as he spoke, what could he have possibly done to make her so angry?

“Oh no?”

Oh, here they went, Jolly set his book down, the fireworks were about to fly, he could see it now in Ellie’s eyes as she faced Folio.

“You can’t ask a girl out on a date, so you resort to your stupid fucking shot challenges to flirt with her instead of just flirting over drinks with her on your own, you asshole. Then, last night, Noah got the fantastic demon brew in his shots that had him so smashed that he could barely fend off one of those fucking shadows when she tried to take advantage of him, Folio. One of those BITCHES put her claws on my boyfriend.” Jolly cringed at the murderous glare that was Ellie’s eyes as she ranted at Folio, she wasn’t wrong, it had all started with the shot challenges because he was trying to impress Ishtar, whoops.. “Oh shit.”

Even Folio knew that was bad, and it wasn’t just the smoothie that was making his stomach gurgle at the thought of one of those girls trying something..

“What did you do?”

“What did I do? Nothing, Nicholas stopped me, I was half drunk myself, not a weapon on me, but I was so pissed off I would have attacked her with my bare hands. Fist versus claws, who do you think would have come out on top in that scenario, Folio?”

She would have gotten torn up and Noah would have gone into a drunken rage in response. It would have been a bloodbath. Shit. Ellie had furious tears in her eyes, and Folio just wanted to get up and hug her, but he had a feeling she might be tempted to hit him if he tried, fuck it, let her hit him. He stood up from his chair and moved over to her, wrapped his arms wrapped her in a tight hug, a tight Folio hug, and she hit him, just like he expected her to. One of her clenched fits thumped right against his chest slightly, with a groan of protest at the confrontation. He knew it was nothing near as hard as she could hit him, a love tap at best, but it was something.

“No more shot challenges, no more, we can hang you at the bar all you like, I promise, but no more challenges.”

His hands rubbed down her back, Ellie was strong, he knew that, she was a force, but she was still human in a demon world here, all three of them were, and they had to stick together. It wasn’t always easy. Jolly had mused to him once, that there was a reason that he thought that there was a reason that this was just the Afterlife and not anything like Heaven. It wasn’t perfect here. Folio was fine just calling it Hell, it was what it had been for him in the beginning anyway.

Sighing,

“Okay, no more shot challenges, I swear, you have my word.”

His arms squeezed around Ellie slightly.

“Finally, now you might actually take my advice and ask her out right now.”

Folio rolled his eyes, glancing over to Jolly as he spoke up, but he was already glancing back down to his book.

“Negative, this just makes not being just a barfly even more important. Just going to have to step up my game somehow. I think I always needed to anyway.”

Ellie pulled back from him,

“Maybe we can brainstorm over lunch, and invite the guys, get everyone's thoughts. If you don’t like them, you don’t have to do them.. But talking about it seriously Folio, without teasing,”

Folio smiled a little at the sharp way she scolded Jolly a little, knowing it wasn’t just Jolly she was talking about, all the guys teased him about Ishtar, and Jolly just sat back and held his hands up in surrender,

“Fine, fine, but when he turns down all the ideas, don't say we didn’t warn you.”

Ellie nodded and smiled slightly to Folio,

“Lunch?”

He took in a deep breath, his head still hurt like someone took a fucking sledgehammer to it, but for Ishtar, he could manage to consider the day ahead with hopefully some clarity by lunchtime, who knows, maybe some of the ideas could be useful. He hoped they were if he couldn’t flirt over shots anymore. Ellie's fresh perspective would be good, the guys were just useless, they all just told him to sex her up, and while he would <i>love</i> to, that was barfly territory.

“Yeah, let's do lunch.”

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[ab4eva]

I dunno if I'm allowed to submit a second idea, but: I've seen in videos that Austin Butler felt haunted by Elvis Presley sometimes. Maybe write a little drabble where Elvis and Austin interact briefly? Again, if this isn't something you like, lemme know, please and thank you. 😊😊

Hi again! Thanks for this request for my 1k celebration! I wasn’t sure how to write this one, but then inspiration struck. I hope you like it ☺️

I’m still working on my last few requests, so thanks for the patience y’all! 🩷

Little ghosty blurb with Elvis Presley and Austin Butler

-

Las Vegas, 2019

Austin Butler found himself in Las Vegas on a hot summer day, sweating through his clothes as he walked up Las Vegas Boulevard, a far cry from what it used to be in its heyday. Practically all of the old hotels were gone, blasted and imploded to make way for bigger and newer mega resorts.

Researching his role for Baz Lurhmann’s Elvis biopic, Austin wanted to walk the same streets Elvis once had, to be in the city that he had immortalized and solidified into something more than just a place to gamble. Elvis had helped build Las Vegas into what it is today, while Las Vegas had paid him back by wearing him down.

Austin hadn’t gone full Elvis today, but he had wanted to dress in a subtle nod to the King, really get into the headspace. His now-dark hair was gently mussed and he wore slightly flared black pants and a 70s-patterned shirt, collar unbuttoned halfway. The streets were busy and he had to admit it was a little startling to see Elvis impersonators pass by every few feet. The first time it happened he didn’t think anything of it…

“Hey man, is that my shirt?” one startled, glittered jumpsuit Elvis asked as he walked by, head turned to look back at Austin over his shoulder. Austin shook his head and chuckled to himself as he kept walking.

“My boy, my boy,” the next one crowed happily when he saw Austin, thumping him on the back in a friendly manner. Ever polite, Austin shook his hand and kept walking. Strange, he’d never met that man but he felt familiar in some way. He eventually reached his destination, the Westgate Resort, formerly the International Hotel where Elvis had spent so much of his time in Las Vegas. He stared up at the bronze statue of the man himself in the lobby, which was eerily empty for this time of year. Lost in his thoughts, Austin jumped as a voice spoke beside him.

“Tell my story, son. Let the world know who I was. What I believed in and who I loved.”

Austin felt a chill tickle his spine as goosebumps peppered his body in the suffocating heat. He turned to look at the man next to him, another Elvis impersonator in a blue jumpsuit, this one was a bit older, a little weary looking. But his blue eyes shone brightly behind his gold shades and his lopsided smile was friendly. Familiar even. The man placed a warm, heavy hand on Austin’s shoulder, squeezing lightly.

“And give my baby girl a hug for me. Tell her I miss her something awful.” Then he lowered his shades, looking a stunned Austin in the eyes, “Go on now, ya hear? Go take care of business.”

[pinksirensong]

LOVE OF THE ENDLESS (V)

Finally peace was reigning for Love of the Endless, it seemed that Morpheus finally understood that she wasn’t leaving her life here and decided to leave her alone. It was like a weight left her shoulders, now she could finally have her happy ending. Today was like any other day, Y/N woke up tangled in Jake’s bed with him and they started their day, it was trivial as always and each went to do their own affairs.

Pulp Fiction, the nightclub both worked at, was more crowded than usual and Y/N haven’t left her pole the whole night and the crowd that surrounded her was always changing. The men were always almost drooling over her, perhaps it has something to do with her outfit that didn’t leave much to imagination or it might be the way the little devil inside of her came out when she was dancing. Jake wasn’t a jealous guy and that was a good thing in their line of work, but Dream of Endless was known to be, although he never was with her before. After weeks of freedom, he was back and angrier than ever, his eyes were glued in her figure while she danced and by the looks it was like Morpheus wanted to rip her out of there and run far away from all these people. Too bad Y/N enjoyed it, all the attention and the looks, she was seeking it every night.

- Hey, doll, you up for a private dance? – the annoying part was the too drunk costumers that would insist on trying something more with Love. – Come on, don’t be shy. – she drew a line when they touched her, her body was her own and nobody else had the permission to try something without her permitting it.

- You can watch me, but no touching. House rules, hotstuff. – the venom on her voice was enough to warn him “back off”. Y/N noticed that Dream wasn’t alone, another man was with him and by the stories she heard it could be Hob Gadling, the only friend he had outside the Dreaming. Hob was holding him, stopping him from coming to her, like she was some damsel in distress. Faking the sweetest smile, she waved at them. A few hours later she was free for the rest of the night, after putting a long coat Love decided to wait for Jake at her brother’s table. – Hello, brother. – she sits at Hob’s side. – And brother’s friend.

- What was that? – if the circumstances were different, if they were completely alone and she was dancing only for him, Morpheus wouldn’t be angry but turned on by it.

- Dancing, did you guys enjoy it?

- That was not dancing, Y/N.

- It’s the new times, dear brother. Look around us, nothing is like before. This is dancing and it’s a lot of fun.

- Those men around you were clearly under the influence of Desire.

- Perhaps, I wouldn’t know. In case he didn’t tell you anything, mister Gadling, I’ve left our family centuries ago. Although I do fulfil my duties, because I too am responsible for something much bigger than petty feelings. Unfortunately, my dear brother here just won’t leave me alone.

- He is quite stubborn and a little bit rude. – Hob turned his body to face Love. – Morpheus told me a lot about you and as someone who has loved and lost it, I can’t say I blame him for trying. Even anthropomorphic beings can change, just like you said before.

- I liked you, Hob Gadling. Your heart is pure, and you speak with passion, so I will grant you some words of wisdom: the heart never forgets. Worry less about my brother and more about your deceased soulmate. Surely as an immortal you haven’t really thought she was gone forever, right? – she stood up and looked directly at Dream. – I tried to be nice, but you leave me no choice. You cannot give what I want, what I need and deserve. I seek love and companionship, someone to warm my heart and not only my bed. I seek love and not desire, and that’s something you can never give to me. – without saying goodbye, she left them and went to the bar to find Jake.

- Is everything okay, sweetheart? – another positive point in dating Jake is that he could read her like an open book, Y/N didn’t have to pretend with him, except for the fact he didn’t know about her being an Endless and not human.

- It is now, hon. Are you almost done? I just want to go home and take a long bath with you.

- You tired?

- Not enough to not want to have sex with you. I don’t think I’ll ever be too tired for that, by the way. – she reached for his hand across the bar and squeezed it, he smiled at the small gesture. All Y/N wanted was to make Jake as happy as she made her, they couldn’t replace their soulmates in each other’s lives, but it was good, very good. She prayed to all the forces of the universe that they could stay like this forever.

Her little peaceful moment was over, as soon as her boyfriend went to back to get his things so they could leave her focus was now at him, because even if she didn’t want it, itwas automatic to feel him. Y/N could feel his eyes on them and that angered her, because how dare him come to her workspace with his friend and judge her and her choices?! The club was the safe space that she found on her own, the people there were her friends and some even more family than the Endless. Now Love felt exposed, this was a part of her life she didn’t want to share with anybody, especially Morpheus.

Now, Y/N wasn’t petty or mean, but he was asking for retribution, and it was long due. So, because she was feeling him watching her with an intensity that annoyed her, she couldn’t help herself. Jake had come back and before they could join hands to leave, he took something from his bag and gave it to her. That man had no idea what that meant, giving to her that beautiful apple, and honestly Y/N knew it was outdated to think of it as a marriage proposal. Taking all of this in consideration and the look at Dream’s face when he saw the scene, she thought that this might be the key to her freedom at least and did what was necessary, not only she smiled at him and took the apple but Love also threw herself at Jake’s and kissed him passionately. Perhaps a deep part of her wanted it, wanted a proposal and a beautiful wedding, but now wasn’t the time for that type of thoughts. Now they had to leave, the message was delivered. As Y/N watched Morpheus as she left with Jake, she could only think that if looks could kill her boyfriend would be long gone…or should she say fiancé?!

.

.

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 tag list: @the-ruler-of-death @mrs-captainsteverogers @jesllianaquilesrolon @igotanidea @intothesoul @hedwigprewett12 @queenshelby @mattmurdockmylove @boofy1998 @andieperrie18 @formenis @violet-19999

[countrymusiclover]

8 - Family Vacation

Part 9

Family is More than Blood

@secretdreamlandmentality

Shutting the car door behind me the wind knocked my hair into my face while Jacob walked over to me with his hands in his pockets. “I can’t believe he got us tickets on a cruise ship for a family vacation. I mean I know he’s got money but still.”

“Trust me, J. You’ll get used to it at some point in our immortal lives. Now I have to ask, are you going to finally ask Hayley to marry you yet?” I slapped my hands onto my knees, sending him a grin.

Jacob had told me and our father that he planned to ask Hayley to marry him sometime soon. Since we were somewhat finally in a stable place in our lives. And if I was right he probably would ask her while we were on this cruise ship. “Look honestly I’m just afraid she’ll say no. I mean sure we have a kid together. But that doesn’t mean -ow!”

He rubbed his arm after I slapped him with a glare. “Jacob Dawson Lane why wouldn’t she say yes to you. I mean Hayley has been through far too much with our family to back out now. So I have 100% faith that she will say yes even if you didn’t ask her on a cruise ship.”

We turned our heads hearing the kids get out of the car and Andrea ran straight towards the ship with Henrik chasing after her with a fit of laughter. “Hey, be careful. Don’t get in trouble with the security of the ship.”

“Calm down, Rae…I compelled the captain to not worry about what they do.” Klaus came up behind us wrapping his arms around me and his head was on my shoulder. He was right that even though Henrik and Andrea were running around, Missy was making a mess of chocolate and other desserts around the cabins, Hope and Alina were visiting the captains quarters wanting to help take the boat to sea. The ship’s captain didn’t scold them, not even once.

Klaus slowly dragged me through the ship where I wasn’t sure what he was trying to do next. We ended up on the main deck of the ship with the tip of the railing straight in front of us. “What are we out here for, Nik?” We had only been on the ship for a few hours and it was close to sunset by this point since we were all too excited to simply sit down and have dinner yet on the large ship.

He paused in his steps putting his hands together behind his back leaning against the railing of the ship. “I thought we needed a family adventure since we have been busy. But I think you should get to live your little Titanic moment even though I’ve already drawn you like a French girl as you commonly said once.”

“I thought you didn’t understand the draw towards the movie since you basically probably lived through that time period.” I chuckled, resting my hands on my hips with the wind blowing my hair in front of my eyes until I pushed it away.

Lifting my nose into the air I couldn’t stop the smile crossing my face. Klaus slowly walked forward, extending his right hand for me. "Give me your hand, Rae. Step up onto the rail." He slowly leads me by the hand towards the railing where he had me stand in front of his chest. He moved my hands onto the rail and I climbed up onto the metal with my boots clunking when they hit.

"Nik.." I chuckled when I felt him put his front into my back when he stepped up onto the railing too.

The wind was blowing my hair in his face until he rested his head on my shoulder whispering in my ear. "Do you trust me?"

"You know I do." I couldn't stop my smile from getting any bigger. All I could picture in my mind is Rose and Jack in the movie performing this exact moment. Klaus moved my hands into his and intertwined our fingers together where we were both smiling at the endless sea scape in front of us. Slowly turning my head back to my husband I grinned pressing my lips to his and he kissed back until the sun set so we knew it was time to find the others and have dinner.

We went upstairs and got changed where Klaus stayed in his normal clothes but he had put on a dark black tie. I changed into a light blue dress with tan sandals and my hair was curled. Nik and I looped our arms together where we both slowly walked through the ship until we got to the dining hall. The kids were all seated down but I didn’t see my brother or Hayley down here yet. “Have you seen your parents anywhere, Andrea?”

“They were up in the room when they told me to come down with my cousins.” Andrea replied, shoving some strawberries in her mouth while she talked back.

Klaus glanced at me, placing his hand over mine sending me a bright smile. We turned our heads when we could hear two people walking towards us meaning it was the pair we were looking for. “Here’s the hybrid and heretic pair now. Care to explain why you took so long to join the family for dinner.”

“I couldn’t find the right tie.” Jacob lied putting one hand in the pocket of his jacket with his girlfriend sitting down.

She sends him a look slightly confused. “Which is odd considering you don’t own that many. Jacob, what is really going on with you recently?”

Hope, Alina, Missy and Henrik all focused their eyes between my brother and his girlfriend. I tapped my fingers on the table and bit my lip trying to not make it obvious that I knew what he was about to do in a few seconds. My twin brother didn’t take a seat instead he lowered himself down on one knee in front of Hayley Marshall. “Hayley, I should have done this way before we had our daughter and went through death and back together. So now I am done waiting. I love you and our daughter so I want you to be with me forever. So will you become my wife, will you marry me?”

“Even if we didn’t have our daughter I would say yes, Jacob.” She nodded, holding out her hand he could slip the ring on her hand.

He got to his feet holding her face in his hands kissing her gently. She wrapped her arms around his neck kissing him back. “I love you, Hayley, soon to be Lane.”

“And I love you, Jacob.” She declared before they sat down together staring at us.

Missy raised her hands excitedly. “Are we going to be flower girls!”

“I should be the ring bear.” Andrea leaned forward on the table.

Alina and Hope high fived each other holding their hands together in the air. “No we should be bridesmaids not flower girls!”

“Wait, what about me?” Henrik entered the conversation feeling left out.

Raising my hands up in the air I finally ended their bickering knowing we would have to be talking about this for months. “Kids, kids. That’s enough for now. We are on a family vacation. Not a wedding planning cruise. Let’s just enjoy this trip until we go back to normal.”

“You’re mothers right. We should enjoy our vacation.” He raised his glass of bourbon when I did mine. And the others followed clinking our glasses together laughing and weren’t worrying about what was happening in our lives otherwise.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[thefamilyeldritchabomination]

Chapter Five: The Shrine/An Argument Pt. 8

 “Gort…what happened over there? You’re acting off.” Freddy said with worry, getting Dorian to stop tormenting him for a short moment. “The one called ‘Envy’, they said something that was in verbatim of what my wayfaring friend from so long ago had said.” Dolly answered, knowing full well not to hide things from Freddy. “You mean the one that gave you that weird eye portrait? But that was like centuries ago, how did that little sadist know?” Freddy said equally freaked out about this. “I don’t know, they wouldn’t say. I mean I figured that when he left for home, he’d found someone and simply just lived a good life with them. Now I’m not so sure anymore, I wonder what became of him now.” Dolly admitted as she got the lamb into the sink to defrost in the water. Freddy unsteadily got up from his set and walked over to Dolly in the kitchen to give an one armed hug, in turn, Dolly hugged Freddy gently right back. Dorian sat on the table confused about the whole thing as the wind started blowing into the apartment from that broken window. The broken window was now an after thought, ignoring what could potentially climb in through it at any moment… =======================================================================

 Back in the endless planes of worlds, one week in human time since Gort went missing, The young aislings of the Autumn Mist gathered before the Queen of the district, their overseer. The Autumn Mist, following the orders from the Summer Dusk, brought forth a spaniel-like dullahan aisling that wasn’t part of the batch. It had always been a major key trait aside from the two talents in all queens born, the transformative blood that could change mortals into a fae they called ‘cavaliers’. Normally it would've been done to a fully grown human that was raised on the island, however, the situation called for something far more drastic. Never before had the Autumn Mist fed a human child his blood so young before in his time of being Queen, but the wretched deed was done. The child whimpered after such a horrible and traumatizing experience as The Autumn Mist spoke.

“From now on, everytime we see the other districts, everytime we go on field trips to Nibiru, we are to tell them that this aisling is your batch sister, Gort. We cannot go back to retrieve the original Gort, but we will have to continue on without her. Please, make your new batch sister feel right at home in the Autumn Mist District.” The Autumn Mist declared as he gently nudged the aisling over to the rest of the batch.

“Why can’t we go back!? We don’t want a new batch sister, we want our Gort!” One of the older children, the same species as Gort but bigger and both fully upright ears, screamed out in anger. 

 “Because the Summer Dusk said we couldn’t and we cannot argue with his final judgment, as much as we want to, Tinne. I am asking you to play along and call this new aisling ‘Gort’ from now on. Treat her like you would with your own Batch siblings, is that understood?” The Autumn Mist lector at Tinne, Tinne making a face any angry child would make.

“Fuck this stupid crumbling island and it’s stupid rules!” Tinne roared out, stumping out in anger.

“Hey now, we may sing the sweet low song of the F bomb in this district, but you cannot say that about the island we live and ride on, especially in front of the Summer Dusk. This conversation is over now Tinne, please be nice to your new batch sister.” The Autumn Mist warned as he gently nudged the new Aisling towards her new batch siblings.

Tinne tried to protest, but the Autumn Mist was too quick in leaving the nursery dorm for the aislings of the Autumn Mist District. The sight and reaction was all too hard of an emotion to handle after this unprecedented incident. It was true the island had been crumbling a lot faster than it should’ve been and had been one of the reasons they had stopped in that dimension earlier for maintenance. While yes, the beings that lived on the Island were all immortals, the island itself was not. Crops were failing, cattle they had imported started dying off from malnutrition, the island itself grew smaller and smaller with each passing moment, and none of the other Queens knew why.

The Summer Dusk had said that if they had twelve queens united in keeping the raw magic at bay, the island would stop breaking apart and start healing. That was always the plan, the Autumn Mist thought for sure that all new batches of aislings would be protected as any one of them could be the twelfth queen, not just the few that fit a mold. The door to the master room opened as the Autumn Mist entered to sit on his throne of twisted birch and elm. It was like entering a forest as the mist swirled around the Autumn Mist’s hooves as he poured a glass of winter wine. ‘Coward’, that was a word that haunted the Autumn Mist since the aisling went missing. It curdled his stomach as the sweet and spicy wine was sipped.

 ‘No, I need to stop thinking like that, I hadn’t purposefully abandoned Gort…right? I had to follow the order by the Summer Mist himself..Any other Queen would’ve done the same on Tir Na Nog. I’m not being a coward like that Cavalier said.’ The Autumn Mist thought to himself as he poured a second glass.

‘Of course you are a coward, you did subject that small human child into becoming an aisling to appease a monster who didn’t want anyone else to know about the missing aisling.’ an intrusive thought echoed in the back of the Autumn Mist’s mind, the guilt had returned.

[dyns33]

Candy

Flufftober 9 - Jotun Loki x Reader 

(I already have one imagine a bit like that, but this time it's with the Prince of the Jotuns !)

There was no candy in Jotunheim. In fact, there weren't any sweets in many of the realms, even on Asgard, which was supposed to be some sort of paradise.

A candy-free paradise, Y/N found it odd.

There was some sugar anyway, because Loki hadn't asked her what it was when she put some in his coffee. However, he didn't know what coffee was.

He hadn't liked it, too bitter.

Then, when the Jotun pince asked her what those little things that she was putting up in a plastic pumpkin that had a face were, she initially thought he only didn't know what Halloween was, that giant's candies were bigger, of different shapes, and not wrapped in paper.

As it turned out, Loki just didn't know what candy was.

           "It's… Damn, I'm not sure how to explain this. You can eat it, but… It's not really good for your health."

           "I do not understand." Loki said calmly, staring at her, as she sat in his huge hand.

           "On Earth... Midgard... Sometimes we like things that are not always good for us."

           "Like how you love me."

           "Idiot." she growled, slapping his chest. "I mean, we eat things that are not really nutritious and that we could avoid. We smoke. We drink alcohol."

           "Everyone drinks alcohol."

           "But we're not as strong and resilient and immortal as you. It doesn't have a good effect on our bodies. If Thor asks you again why we don't party like him all the time, that's one answer among others."

The Jotun nodded, remembering all the times he had been afraid because his little sweetheart had almost been hurt, sometimes by accident because of him, other times she had been sick, and the times when everything was fine, but that he had panicked because he did not understand how such tiny and weak beings had managed to survive until today.

He decided that from now on he would watch Y/N even more, to make sure nothing happened to her, and that she didn't consume anything dangerous.

           "Well, then if you're careful, and you don't eat it too often, the candy isn't that bad. It's like everything, you just have to be reasonable."

           "... Hmm."

           "Do you want to taste it ?"

           "... Ok."

With his long life, and therefore his great experience, Loki having tried almost everything and being afraid of almost nothing, he did not expect much from taking a few bits of flavored sugar.

By a few, he meant thirty, because if he had only taken one, he wasn't sure he had felt anything. He could barely see them in his hand.

But, when he put them in his mouth, sucked them, chewed them, then swallowed them, something happened.

           ".... Its good."

           "I know ! That's why it's so hard to resist ! Why must good things not actually be good things ? This is unfair."

           "... Again."

           "Loki ?"

"Darling, again !"

Y/N hadn't thought of opening Pandora's Box by giving some candies to Loki. She hadn't considered that he could turn into a giant, sugar-crazed baby who cried out over and over again, pouting and having a nervous breakdown when she refused.

For the Shield, she noted that it was necessary to hide all the sweets, and maybe also the cakes, from the other Jotuns, and certainly from all the aliens. Especially Thor. Thor after eating sugar would be out of control.

At least Loki was listening to her, a little.

           "Loki, there isn't enough candy on Earth for someone your size. And Halloween is coming, kids will be sad if they don't have candy because you ate them all."

           "... Just a little bit more ?" he asked, taking on a sad expression.

           "No. You have to be reasonable, even if it's difficult. I'm not telling you to eat sweets only once a year, but... maybe only once a week ? And no more than a hundred ! "

           "... For you, I will."

           "Thank you."

           "If I can kiss you as much as I want, sweetie."

           "You don't have to ask me that, silly giant." Y/N sighed, smiling, before kissing him gently on the upper lip. She was too small to kiss him all over the mouth.

Loki, on the other hand, was tall enough to kiss her almost everywhere he wanted. And since he hadn't specified where, Y/N understood her mistake much later. But she didn't complain.

[marcnutz]

Hi love your writing can i request hcs of how mcyts would react to a demon s/o also she/her prounouns can you make it nsfw if you want to ofc- :)

Hi! i dont write for female reader / she/her pronouns so i kept it gender neutral where the demon has both a penis and vagina, cause why not.

Also this is my first time doing hcs so this will be fun! I wrote for the mcyts i watch the most, but if you'd like me to add more lmk! Going forward if I do hcs this will be the basic lineup unless specified differently. I'll aim for 5-10 points per person :)

18+ MINORS DNI

Masterlist and Info

Tags: Dream; George; Sapnap; Punz HCs, Demon!Reader, Reader has two sets of genitalia, Temperature Play, Size Difference, Blood Kink,

Dream:

The least bothered by your demon form.

He found the fact that you were the same height as him to be a bigger turn-on than he first anticipated.

Your size made standing sex VERY easy.

Your demon body gives him many new places for him to hold and pull.

Him pushing your face into the wall, pounding into you as hard as he can. Your tail flicks his thigh a little too hard and leaves a small cut. You hear him grow behind you as he grips onto it and pulls. You hadn't known how sensitive your tail was until now, and you stored this newfound information in the back of your head for later use.

Your large horns make for good handholds during doggy style, another one of his favorites.

Will not complain if your sharp nails leave red and bloodied streaks down his back, and will make you lick up every drop of blood that leaks from his shoulder when you bite down too hard.

George:

Your large frame made him nervous to start.

Refused to take your dick at first, too scared that it wouldn't fit or that the ribbing would scratch him.

Being inside your pussy was the best feeling, however. It was warmer than it should be, and it felt like it would pull his dick deeper and deeper, milking him for every drop he had.

He loves it when you ride him. He like watching his cock, disappear into you, and he loved the weight of you on top of him.

Delving deeper into this, he loves when you ride his face. He eats your pussy out, cum soaking his chin and chest. Your dick rests against his forehead as he reaches up to stroke your cock, loving the feeling of your base growing in his hand as you get closer to your release.

You use your tail to gently stroke his cock during this position, being extra careful not to cut him. The danger of this turns him on even more.

Sapnap:

The first thing he thinks about when he sees you is getting a piece of your ass. Every part of your body is a HUGE turn-on to him.

He wasn't quite sure what to expect when he pulled your pants down, but he didn't care. When he saw you had both you could've sworn he almost died of excitement.

May or may not have been a little jealous that your cock was bigger than his.

Like George, taking your cock intimidates him at first, but he loves to give you blow jobs. The slight burning feeling as his lips struggles to fit you in his mouth only sends more waves of pleasure through his body.

Whether he tops of bottoms is entirely dependent on whether he's feeling dominant or submissive that day. More dominant? He's filling your pussy up with so much cum it'll be spilling out of you for hours. Submissive? He's riding your dick, crying and begging for you to tell him he's a good boy and a whore at the same time.

Likes it when you bite into his thigh, feels like the marks from your fangs are like brands that claim him as yours.

One time he asked if you could fuck him with your horns. You said no.

Punz:

The most off-put by your demon appearance. Took him a while to warm up to it.

Once he did though? He's all up in that pussy and ass.

Eating you out while pulling on your tail? Hot.

Not super into your cock, most he's willing to do is give you a handjob. But that's fine.

Don't think you're going to overpower him just because you're bigger than him and an immortal being. You're getting on your knees and worshiping him.

One time you bit him too hard so he put a muzzle on you. Something about tieing up and using someone so much stronger than himself is such a turn-on for Punz. Chains around your wrist to keep you from scratching him. Tail tied to a post so it doesn't knick him.

Not that he isn't into pain. But he's more of an inflictor than a receiver.

"Now now. Don't think you'd get away with cutting me with your tail. Lay on your stomach, you're getting a taste of your own medicine."

[vampiregirl1797]

The Starlight Stone

GIF not mine.

Rhysand x Reader

Word Count: 4,898

Summary: Y/N comes from a different reality, where the characters and world she’s now living in, exist in a series of books. Rhysand takes her in, and she learns how to do something she’s never managed before… live.

Warnings: Can’t think of any? If I’ve missed anything, let me know.

Masterlist Here :)

Falling in love with new characters was as easy as breathing for me. In fact it was so easy, that before I realised it, I was only falling for them. Reading became an escape for me, a teenage girl without a shred of self-confidence, used to being the overlooked one in a group of friends, used to not attracting any kind of male attention. It was perfect, because the men I fell in love with always loved me back, never hurt me with the crushing pain of rejection, never thought I wasn’t pretty enough, or skinny enough. They loved me for me.  

I just never imagined I’d wake up in one of the fictional world’s I’d read about, and come face to face with the High Lord I’d most recently falling for. I’d arrived several months ago, and of course hadn’t been able to keep a thing from the High Lord of the Night Court who’d found me trespassing on his lands. He’d gone into my head, not too far, but far enough to assess whether I was a threat to him or his people. He discovered pretty quickly that I had absolutely no skill set to be a threat, and that I absolutely was not from his world.  

He’d found the concept of Prynthian being presented in a series of books both interesting and amusing, as well as him and his friends existing as characters within the novels. I was just glad he hadn’t gone far enough to find how invested I got in each of the books I read, and those who existed within them, him being one of those people. It would have been mortifying and I had wondered on more than one occasion what his reaction would be. But coming face to face with a man who had been fictional to me, and then become real overnight… it had thrown me into my insecurities. Into taking my feelings for the High Lord and shoving them down as far as I could.  

‘Y/N?’ I was snapped out of my thoughts by Cassian popping his head into my room. Rhys had offered me a room at his town house when I first got here, and I’d never left. He’d offered the money to buy my own place, but I hadn’t been comfortable with the idea of that at the time, and now I had a place on his court, along with a wage of my own, but this had become my home.  

‘Hey Cass, what’s up?’ I smiled, patting the empty space beside me on the enormous bed; in my world I’d never had bigger than a single, and this was about three singles put together.  

‘Not much, I was gonna go into town for a little while, do you want to come with?’ His hazel eyes studied me with warmth and kindness, which was probably what had made me comfortable around him so quickly. He’d never looked at me with the disinterest I was used to being on the receiving end of from men; he saw me as a person and I appreciated him for it.

‘Sure. Anything in particular you’re after?’ I wondered letting my hair down from the messy bun I’d pulled it up onto when I’d come to relax in my room.  

He shrugged, trying and failing to be nonchalant, ‘not really. Just felt like getting out.’

I sighed, shuffling to the edge of the bed to slip on my boots, ‘Rhys sent you to check up on me didn’t he? Let me guess, he thinks I’m becoming a depressed recluse?’  

Cass gave me a look that was a mixture of concern and exasperation, ‘Rhys worries about you because you never leave the house. He doesn’t think you’re depressed, but he worries you’re not living either. You lose yourself in books, and you barely speak to anyone, even me.’  

I turned away, pretending to busy myself with lacing up my shoes to hide the tear that slid down my cheek. Rhys was more observant than I gave him credit for. The truth was, since I’d gotten here, I’d basically been living the same as I had before; reading, sleeping, eating and more reading. I ate meals with everyone sometimes, but more often than not, I allowed the new fictional worlds offered to me here to consume me. I’d never been called out on it before. No one had ever cared enough to notice that I wasn’t just reading because I loved it, I was reading to escape the life I didn’t know how to live.  

‘I-I’ I stuttered, forcing myself to stop and take a breath.

‘Hey,’ Cassian’s voice softened and he shuffled beside me on the bed to sling a muscular arm over my shoulder. My head went to his chest, not even trying to hold back my tears anymore, it seemed pointless when he could probably scent them anyway, ‘I didn’t say this to upset you, just to let you know that you’re family to us now, Y/N, and we care about you. We want you to live and enjoy life, not to fall solely in love with fictional places.’  

‘This place was just a fictional place to me once.’ I murmured quietly.

‘And now you get to be here, and still choose to read yourself to death.’ He teased, chuckling softly.  

I smiled, wiping away the moisture from my cheeks, because he was right. Rhys was right. I had been blessed with the opportunity to live in a reality I’d once yearned for with all my heart, and I’d been wasting it. Why? Because I was afraid to face the feelings I had for a certain High Lord, feelings that had only blossomed since coming here, despite my best efforts to avoid him. I’d been throwing myself into reading because I wanted to live in the fantasy that he would return my feelings for a little longer. But that had to stop. I wasn’t immortal here—at least I didn’t think so, I didn’t have Fae characteristics and I didn’t have any powers—and it was time to stop squandering my life being a scaredy cat.  

‘You’re right. Rhys is right.’ I moved away from Cassian’s chest, wiping all evidence of my tears away, ‘lets go into Velaris. I’ve always wanted to stroll through the City and take everything in. It looks so beautiful from up here.’  

Cassian grinned, and allowed me to pull him from the bed, and just like that we left the town house and were swallowed by the life of Velaris.  

Six Months Later

‘I don’t think so.’ I shook my head, levelling the Shadowsinger with a no-nonsense glare, ‘it’s the Winter Solstice, which is the first one I’m spending here, it’s basically Christmas, and it’s a family holiday. You’re not flying off to wherever the heck you’re planning to go, with only your shadows for company.’  

His hazel eyes were blank but he visibly stiffened. I sighed, realising that telling Azriel what he could and couldn’t do was not my place, and it definitely wasn’t the best approach.  

‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to act like I’m your keeper or anything.’ I stood from the couch where I’d been sitting, to move to where he stood in front of the fire. I placed a hand on his shoulder, and relaxed a little when he didn’t shrug me off, ‘it’s just… this means something to me. Back in my old reality, we had Christmas, which was something similar. We’d all gather, exchange presents, decorate a tree, hang decorations… but what made it special to me was the time spent with the people I loved. With the people I considered family. You’re my family now, Azriel. You, Cass, Ameren, Mor… and Rhys. Obviously it’s your choice, but if you could afford to, please don’t leave until after the holiday.’  

I thought his eyes had softened at my words, but honestly it was hard to tell with the Shadowsinger. I left him alone to think over my words, kissing his cheek as I made my way outside; I still had some things left to buy for everyone. I’d gone a little overboard, but I couldn’t help it. I’d pretty much finished Mor and Ameren, I had a few last things to pick up for Cassian and Azriel, and the majority I’d left to buy were for Rhys. I already knew what I was going to get him, and most were already purchased and wrapped at each store, I’d just waited until now to get them, because while Rhys was trusted with everyone else’s presents… well giving him his own gifts just didn’t seem right. It might just have been me, but I felt like it took away the surprise, at least a little bit.  

I smiled as I walked through the city, nodding in greeting to a few friendly people. Since that talk Cassian had with me six months ago, I’d started venturing out of the townhouse more and more. I still read, but it was for the fun of it now, rather than the escape from reality. I’d fallen in love with Velaris. The city was beautiful, and teeming with life and acceptance and peace… seeing it first hand really made me appreciate the efforts Rhys and everyone had gone through to protect this place, to make it a home.  

‘Hey girl!’ Ameren’s voice had me looking to my right, to see her running across the cobblestone street to catch up to me, ‘you wouldn’t be out to purchase my Winter Solstice presents now would you?’ she grinned, her silver eyes sparkling with more life than usual.

I playfully rolled my eyes, ‘even if I was, I wouldn’t tell you. Your otherworld intimidation doesn’t work on me, Ren.’  

She huffed, but I could see the amusement swirling in her silver irises, ‘fine. It amazes me sometimes though,’ she mused, going on to explain, ‘Cassian cracked like an egg in two seconds, told me what he’d got me straight away. But you’re immune to what makes me scary to people around here.’  

I chuckled, being able to picture Cassian folding perfectly, ‘I wouldn’t say I’m the only one. And Cassian doesn’t prove anything, he’s like a big kid with this stuff. I’ve had to actually shush him to keep him from telling me about my presents, I think the excitement just gets to him. Now if you told me you’d broken Azriel, I’d be impressed.’  

She huffed a laugh and tilted her head in acknowledgement of my words, ‘yeah, you might be right. He didn’t only tell me what he’d gotten me, he told me about everyone else’s too.’  

I rolled my eyes affectionately, ‘that boy.’  

‘Indeed.’ She shook her head, but when she met my eyes again the wicked glint in them made me brace myself slightly, ‘so what are you getting our High Lord?’  

‘I’m on my way to pick up Rhys’ presents now. You can come with me if you want, so long as you don’t spoil anything.’ I gave her a pointed look and grinned at her offended look.  

‘I’m not the gossip Cassian is, thank you very much, girl,’ she waved her hand dismissively, ‘anyway, I was just wondering if you were finally going to gift him with the truth.’

‘Who?’ I frowned, pulling open the door to the blacksmith’s—I’d requested a few specific weapons for Azriel, Cassian and Rhys, each custom made and fit to them specifically, ‘what truth?’

She opened her mouth to reply, but was had to wait until the blacksmith had handed over the three weapons he’d perfectly made for me. Azriel and Cassian had plenty of swords and knives and daggers, but their abundance in bows and arrows was clear. I’d seen them practice with the same one, and I doubted they had any specific for battle, which seemed a waste when they could both fly. So I’d asked the blacksmith to create some custom for them, and both now had their own bow, plenty of arrows and a quiver. Their names were engraved inside the buttery leather of their quivers, and each were made to be lightweight and able to be worn whilst flying without losing any arrows.

For Rhys I’d asked for a pair of daggers to be crafted. I’d seen him with a couple of swords, and I was sure he already had daggers too, but picking this particular weapon had just felt right, even if I knew it was likely he possessed some already. Each was pure silver, one held an amethyst stone at the hilt, while the other held an onyx stone. One for his eyes, the other for his court.  

It was when we exited the shop that Ameren decided to resume her train of thought that I’d almost forgotten about, ‘the truth that you are in love with Rhys.’

It took a lot of effort not to stumble from shock, ‘what?’

‘Don’t play dumb. It’s obvious. Has been for months,’ she smirked, ‘we have bets on when you’re going to tell him. I have over the Solstice, so if you could do a girl a favour and tell him already, the winnings will be mine.’

‘Not to put a damper on your betting habits,’ I pulled her hand towards another shop I needed to go into, ‘but I’ve not got any “truth” to reveal to Rhys.’  

She swore under her breath, ‘I knew I should have had spring, but there’s me being the optimist thinking you would have grown some balls and realised what we’ve all already seen by now.’

I frowned, ‘what the hell are you talking about Ameren?’

‘Rhys loves you just as much as you love him. Actually knowing him, he probably loves you even more, but he’s as much of a coward as you.’ She rolled her eyes, tucking her onyx hair behind her ear as I accepted another bag full of pre-wrapped presents for Rhys.

‘You can’t be serious.’ I didn’t know what else to say… the idea of him feeling a fraction of the love I had for him made my heart pound in my chest. I couldn’t fathom it.

‘Honestly, you’re both blind.’ She shook her head, but let the subject drop, and I was glad. Talking any more might have launched me into a full-blown panic attack.

I’d admitted to myself that fallen in love with the High Lord three months ago—for a long time I’d fought it, convincing myself I was just in love with the fictional version of him. But that theory had gone down the toilet when he’d laughed—really laughed—at a joke Cassian made, and I’d been powerless to stop myself from being overwhelmed with happiness at his happiness. It was then I accepted I was an idiot in love with a man I’d never have. But Ameren saying he did feel the same, well it made me panic because I’d never considered it a possibility before—I’d never had a man interested in me before, and the idea of it, the unfamiliarity, made me panic. So I forced it down and made myself focus on collecting the rest of my gifts.  

//

The morning of Winter Solstice saw me rising bright and early, eager as a kid on Christmas morning. I realised that we wouldn’t be exchanging presents until the evening, after we’d all eaten, but I couldn’t tamper my excitement. So after I’d showered and dressed in leggings and a white woolly jumper, I headed to the living room to put the finishing touches on the decorations. Everything was basically done, but Rhys had found an eight-foot pine tree; I’d been telling him about the traditions of Christmas in my old reality, and he’d surprised me yesterday with a real tree. I’d hugged him tightly for it, unable to hold back my tears of gratitude at his thoughtfulness, and declared we’d have to decorate it tomorrow, after it had time to settle in the room overnight. A part of me wondered if he’d remember, but my doubt floated away upon the sight of him standing in the living room, observing the tree like he was sizing up an opponent on the battlefield. The thought made me chuckle, and he looked up to me with a smile.  

‘Good morning.’ I murmured, coming over to join him, ‘is there a reason you seem to be sizing up this poor, defenceless tree?’  

He grinned, his violet eyes sparkling with mirth, ‘well, other than the fact that it’s bigger than me and has an unfair advantage size-wise,’ I missed his soft smile as I laughed again, ‘I was simply wondering exactly how we’re going to decorate it.’

I softened with understanding, ‘well, lucky for you, I’m ridiculously prepared.’ I moved to pull out the box I’d stored behind the tree last night, after retrieving it from one of the shops in the art district. Magic was such a blessing here, and after I’d explained what I’d needed, and demonstrated with some awful drawings, they’d had everything made within a few hours. I pulled a few ornaments out, marvelling at the craftsmen’s ship for a moment before hanging them on the tree; there was a mixture of circular shapes and stars, in amethyst, silver, blue and black. They’d also crafted a silver star to go on top of the tree, fashioned after the star that always shone the brightest in the night sky of Velaris on the first night of Winter Solstice. It was so well made, I’d been struck speechless by how realistic it looked; as if they had plucked the star straight from the sky.  

I nudged the box closer to Rhys with my foot, ‘just hang them however you want, like this.’ I gestured to the few I’d put on and smiled when he reached in and immediately followed instructions.  

‘You know, if I used my magic I could have this done in under a minute.’ He commented, looking at me from the corner of his eye as if he knew my reaction before I voiced it.

‘Absolutely not! Decorating by hand is part of the fun, and the tradition.’ I protested, flicking his shoulder when I noticed his smirk, ‘if you use a flicker of magic, then there will be no presents for you.’

I frowned at the look of surprise in his eyes and he must have noticed my confusion because he said, his voice soft, ‘I didn’t think you’d gotten me anything. I didn’t mind, of course, I’m just surprised.’  

‘Why would you think that?’ I turned to face him fully, ignoring the task of decorating for the moment.

‘Because you didn’t give them to me to hide.’ He shrugged, carefully placing another ornament onto the tree, ‘and I never expect gifts, from anyone regardless. I went a long time being consumed by disappointment after my mother and sister died, because my father never cared for the holiday before. But after their deaths, it bore a reminder of another year of them being gone. Then he and I enacted our revenge, and it was a while before Morrigan, Cassian and I were able to spend the Solstice together.’  

I pulled him into a hug, winding my arms around his neck and not flinching at the appearance of his wings. They didn’t often appear without purpose unless he was feeling a strong emotion, but I didn’t question it when they cocooned us, his warmth radiating all around me.  

‘I didn’t give you any to hide because I felt like it took away from the surprise of the holiday if I was asking you to keep your own presents.’ I murmured into his neck, missing the small shiver that passed through him, ‘I’m sorry, that you had to spend so many Solstice’s alone, Rhys. But you have a family now, one that would sooner die than leave you.’

He held me a little tighter, and I returned the gesture, burrowing further into his neck and wondering if I was imagining the increased heartbeat I could feel against my chest, or if I were perhaps mistaking it for my own.

//

I smiled from my seat in the armchair, enjoying the warmth emanating from the fire, and from the mug of hot chocolate I held in my hands. We had just had Winter Solstice dinner, and were taking it in turns to open our presents.  

Ameren had gone first, and was grinning so wide it was almost scary at all of the jewels everyone had bought for her. Cassian had mostly been gifted weapons from everyone but Mor and me—she’d given him a sweater in the brightest green I’d ever seen, and I’d also gifted him some of his favourite liquor, a box of chocolates that Rhys had mentioned his mother got the General every year for solstice, some new books on war strategy, a new set of Illyrian leathers, and the bow and arrows I’d gotten him.

Azriel had also gained an abundance of weapons, along with a startlingly bright pair of purple socks from Mor, and some of his favourite liquor, a series of books on adventure and war I had a feeling he would enjoy, and a new set of Illyrian leathers and his new bow and arrows, from me. Mor had been given high quality clothing from everyone, and some of her favourite chocolates, wine, bath foams and salts from me. Rhys had been given a set of old leather bound books from Ameren, a Hawaiian themed shirt from Mor—mother knew where she found that—, what looked like a six-pack of beer from Cassian that had Rhys shaking his head with a reluctant smile, and a new set of Illyrian leathers from Azriel. I’d given him his new set of daggers, some of the chocolates Cassian had mentioned his mother and sister gifted him every Solstice, a painting that captured the beauty of Velaris perfectly, and something else I hadn’t yet presented to him.  

I’d actually left the other gift in his room, on his pillow; it was a pendant that had caught my eye when I was buying Ameren’s Solstice gifts. The shop attendant had noticed my stare and pulled it out from beneath the glass—it wasn’t overly huge; about the size of a bottle cap. It was antique silver, with a stone at the centre that was so beautiful I’d been unable to look away from it. It reminded me of the night sky, to put it plainly. It was so blue I thought it was sapphire, but the flashes of pure light that I saw when I turned it reminded me of shooting stars. The attendant had explained it was a pendant often presented to a perspective partner as a way of showing your intentions—as a way of showing your love for them. It was often the step before the mating bond sparked, to acknowledge what you already felt for them. She mentioned that it was an out dated tradition, and many only bought the Starlight stone now purely because it was beautiful.  

I didn’t know what possessed me to buy it. Maybe it was the possibility that he wouldn’t even know what it meant, maybe it was because a part of me wanted to tell him, and this was the only way I could muster the courage to do it. Either way, I’d left the small wrapped present on his black silk pillow before I’d joined the party tonight. And I’d had knots in my stomach about it since. A part of me wanted to excuse myself and take it back, but I forced that anxious part of my brain to shut up, because as much as it terrified me… I had to tell Rhys how I felt somehow, even if it meant that he didn’t feel the same way.

//

After the events of the evening, I decided to have a bath before I went to bed; Cassian and Azriel had passed out in the living room, one on the floor, the other on the sofa, but both were snoring loudly. Mor had made it to her room on the first floor, and Ameren had returned to her apartment. Rhys had said something about flying over the city before he turned in, and I was too awake with nerves to just slip straight into bed. So I ran some warm water into the gigantic tub that looked as if it would overflow onto the mountain below, and added some of my favourite bath foams that scented of lavender and honey—a gift from Az. I forced myself to breathe and just not think, and when my eyes started to droop I climbed out of the cooling water to dry off. I changed into the new silk gown Mor had gifted me for Solstice, and entered my bedroom only to stop short.  

My heart stopped at the sight of Rhys sitting on the edge of my bed… and then picked up triple speed. He was wearing loose pyjama pants, and no shirt… and he was holding the gift box I’d left on his pillow. The lid was missing and he was staring at the pendant inside. I took a deep breath and crossed my arms over my chest to hide how my hands shook.

‘Hey.’ I bit my lip, unsure about what to do. Should I sit next to him? Stay standing in front of the fire about three feet away from him? Ask him if he liked the gift? Ask him if he knew what it meant?  

His violet eyes lifted to meet mine, and I felt a wave of uncertainty wash over me at the guarded look in them, ‘do you know what this stone means?’ he asked, his voice quiet as he carefully held up the box, as if its contents were precious to him, ‘are you aware of the tradition that exists in Velaris? About what it means when someone presents this stone to another person?’

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding even faster now, and I was pretty sure I was starting to sweat. I wished I could read him better, wished I could know if he was hoping I knew, or hoping I didn’t. But he was a master of hiding his emotions, so I decided to go with the truth.

‘Yes, I know what it means.’ I admitted quietly, and knew if he didn’t have advanced hearing he wouldn’t have been able to make out the words; I could barely hear myself say them.

‘No, tell me. Tell me why you gave this to me.’ His eyes were still guarded, but his voice held a tinge of desperation, a tone I couldn’t resist from him.

‘I gave you that stone because the attendant at the jewellery store told me that the Starlight stone is what you give to a perspective partner, to acknowledge what you already feel for them, before the mating bond has sparked.’ I could feel the wariness on my face as he stood from the edge of the bed, stopping right in front of me.  

He tilted my chin up to meet his eyes with his index finger and whispered, ‘and what is it you feel for me, Y/N?’

‘I love you Rhys.’ I admitted softly, missing the way his eyes softened as my gaze fell to his lips.

His hand caressed my cheek, his thumb moving back and forth across my cheekbone. I was powerless to stop myself melting into his touch, and felt my eyes sheen with tears when I saw the affectionate look in his eyes. I watched as the dark mist of his magic swirled around the pendant, and lifted it from the box to secure it around his neck. My hand went to rest against his chest, where the pendant lay against his skin.

‘I love you too, Y/N darling.’ He murmured, wiping away the tears that fell silently down my cheeks.  

I vaguely heard the gift box fall to the floor, his free hand now landing on my hip and pulling me flush against his body. My arms wound around his neck, my fingers going to his silky soft hair as his mouth covered mine.

//

One Year Later

‘I’m just saying, Cassian is a great name for a tiny warrior.’ Cass grinned from the sofa, across from where Rhys and I sat in the love seat he’d bought for us about a year ago.  

‘Absolutely not.’ Rhys drawled, his hand gently moving back and forth across my swollen belly.

‘Do you have names picked out?’ Mor asked, her face holding the beaming expression that was always present when we were talking about the baby.

‘We do,’ I murmured, Rhys and I shared a secret smile at Mor’s squeal of excitement.  

‘We’re not revealing anything until the baby is born.’ Rhys grinned at the sounds of disapproval from his cousin and Cassian.  

‘You’re boring.’ The war General grumbled.

We all chuckled at his childish behaviour and I felt my expression soften with affection when Rhys leaned over to kiss my baby bump, murmuring words about how his uncle Cassian would always be the biggest baby in the family. Cassian grumbled louder, much to our amusement. My hand fell to Rhys hair, idly playing with the strands. He kissed my forehead and my eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of contentment that washed over me.  

Home. This was home.

[rumblelibrary]

Hello! I'm watching The Alienist- Angel of Darkness, and I keep thinking of a fic where laszlo's wife!reader just gave birth and this case worries the poor man more than usual, because their baby is in danger and he can't get into the assassin's mind. Perhaps the reader could offer to breastfeed laszlo, and they have an in-depth conversation about the workings of the killer's mind and why the reader herself enjoys nurturing her husband. Perhaps it would even become a habit after the case was solved and every time Doctor Kreizler wanted some milk, he would let her know with a touch just below her breast that would go unnoticed in public as a gesture of affection? I think I thought about it too much, what do you think about writing about it?

The Marriage of Happiness [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Wife!Reader]

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: erotic lactation, breastfeeding kink, mention of other kinks and of murder

A/N: What do I think about writing it? I think THANKY YOU because I could write Laszlo having a boobie obsession for the rest of my life. I do think about it daily and it is just THE kink for him (as poor @cazzyimagines knows how obsessed I am). The case of studies mentioned are taken from psychology books of the time. I don''t know what point you're with Angel of Darkness so I am not giving out too much.

The night was dark and tensed, not a soul on the streets of the residential area you lived in with your husband, the only light up the one in your bedroom.

You became mother three months before welcoming the first little Kreizler of her generation. It was hard but worth every second, every moment of the pregnancy and the delivery your husband was with you. You were lucky, you felt lucky to be with a man like Laszlo: open minded, modern, charming and righteous.

You smiled walking around the room as you lulled your baby humming a soft lullaby, the baby observing you with dazzling eyes, you could see she was tired and the melody kept her attentive but also lulled her to a place of comfort.

You swayed slowly in a gentle waltzer, your arms embracing the tiny body wrapped up into the finest white clothing. You yourself wore your white nightdress with a dark green cover up that Laszlo gifted you, it was slightly bigger in size so you’d use it though the whole pregnancy, your hair loosely braided.

The baby opened her mouth making a soft sound, she was calm and relaxed, to see her like this brought you an immense joy.

You heard steps approaching to the door, the house was empty since Stevie was with Laszlo and the cook you hired was in her quarters, you wouldn’t be worried if your husband wasn’t working on a case of abducted babies, but then you followed Laszlo’s common sense and listened instead of letting your mind worry. You listened to the steps coming one after the other, the weight of them, the pace.

You smiled to yourself as you guessed right, your husband appeared on the door frame and the shadow over his face disappeared for a moment meeting your standing figure with the baby. Since the case begun he refused to have any new staff in the house, he brought the bed of the baby in your bedroom, which wasn’t common back then, and every night sent Stevie to roam around the streets before going to bed to see if there was any obscure presence.

“My love” he said with a smile as he walked his way toward you undoing his jacket as you offered him a look of the falling asleep baby. His left hand gently caressing the little chest to feel the breathe of life in it. The baby blinked at him and smiled. Your baby girl was an early smiler, she smiled in her first month which just ripped off her father soul, tucked it in her little pocket and sold him forever. He was already ecstatic to be a father, only the announcement of your pregnancy got him wild, a mix of worry and tenderness always over him. The constant fear to be losing it. To lose what you brought to his life, not only his daughter but that happiness, the home feeling, the meaning to have something to come back to at night.

He loved you like a flower loves the water, he loved you more than metaphors can explain. He closed his eyes pressing his forehead against your temple, you rocked the baby gently in your arms as she relaxed, the sleep over her even if the presence of her father stirred her a bit.

“I am so worried for her” he murmured, he couldn’t cope with it anymore. The pressure to be following that case.

Sara told him to drop it, but he couldn’t. He owed it to Martha Napp, he owed him to his own child. To be in the case put his darling baby into the spotlight, but the best chance to solve it and avoid the menace of losing the apple of his eyes was to fight the crime from the inside.

And yet, he couldn’t. He couldn’t get inside it.

He looked up and noticed your eyes on him, you detected the twist into his mind, the fear, the tremble of his intentions.

You kissed his cheek as his head was bowed slightly before slowly moving away to lean the baby into her cradle.

“Get comfortable” you urged him softly as he nodded to you undoing his jacket and his waist coat shrugging them off his shoulders as you adjusted the baby into her usual sleeping position, you pulled the covers over her caressing her head full of dark blonde hair like her father had as a child. You brushed them gently as she stirred and relaxed again, a soft sound coming from her mouth. She was well dressed, well fed and happy, you knew your child had all the possibilities in life to be the most charming and smartest woman of her times.

You moved the little veils on top of the crib to shield her from the dim lights of the room before pacing your way back to your husband.

Laszlo was sat on your shared bed. His eyes focused in the nothing in front of him. His waistcoat and jacket abandoned as he wore only his candid white shirt and dark pants.

You picked the hooked needle as you slowly bowed to your knees, he blinked surprised for a moment as you begun to undo his boots silently. You knew him, you gave him time to express himself. He was elaborating still, collecting ideas after a day spent talking back and forth with Sara.

“I saw the body” he said as you looked up.

“The body of Martha Napp’s baby” he added and you frowned, the poor woman, you couldn’t imagine yourself in her position. You’d probably be accused of murder too because you’d probably become feral if somebody touched your baby.

“Are you sure it is her baby?”

You knew he was sure, but the hope still fazed you.

“The child was poisoned, the deadly pallor was evident but Martha mentioned her child had an identifying contusion” he took a pause, he licked his lips as you could almost see him relieve the scene in his mind “A benign hemangioma under her left axilla”

He looked at you, to see the corpse of a baby, a baby that could be his, to find out a baby girl was abducted and this time in a well known residential area. The anxiety took over him. He was pestered by dark worries, images that saw you in a state of loss and disruption like the poor Señora Linares.

His eyes rested onto you, your calm firmness made him shake at times. His strong and aggressive demeanour might show him as the rock of the couple, but you are. You’re the one that can overcome things, that can see clearly when his mind is clouded.

“Might that child soul rest now with her mother, if you allow me I will take care of organising the burial along with the mother’s corpse as soon as the Isaacson’s have concluded their inspections on it”

He looked at you, a soft smile crept on him. Your thoughtful self always finding the cure to the pain. He saw the failure and you found the ultimate resolution. You could not join them in life, let it be in death.

You gave him a warm smile before finishing with both his boots and pulling them out, your hands slowly tracing his calves and ankles resting your chin on his knee to interject his eyes.

“Darling”

He blinked, he zoned out again and your voice called him back.

“I apologise” he only said

You stood up, his eyes lingering over your body for a moment. You healed like a true champion after the delivery, in few weeks you were back on your feet like nothing, in a month you were able to attend events. Your energy and vitality made you seem immortal to his eyes, which triggered his fears of loss even more.

Something so special, so strong like you, the idea to see you broken in any shape or form poisoned his soul and tortured his heart.

“Laszlo” once again, you called him back to reality as you sat beside him “you’re not thinking clearly”

He huffed softly, you were right.

“I can’t focus” he admitted finally taking your hand in his “I even upset the señora with my questions, enraged Sara, I feel like an headless chicken rushing around to find answers I can’t deal with. The scientific community protecting a butcher, John doing all he can at the newspaper and yet I am providing nothing to this investigation but background noise” he frowned deeply.

You could tell he was doing it for Martha and for you. He wanted to protect you and he tried to keep you far from all that darkness.

“Come” you said as you moved to your spot on the bed relaxing your legs as you adjusted some pillows behind your back “come on”

You hushed him and he obeyed quietly crawling on the bed, his frown still present. You hated to see him like that. Usually he was able to keep cases of study and worries outside of the bedroom, but this case was too personal.

You smiled at him as you undid the silly bow on your neck that kept the upper part of your night gown up. It was a maternity gown so to undo that little knot exposed the sensual curve of your breasts in a second. His eyes indulged over that little silky cloth twisted around your finger and the stars of little moles on your chest, he knew each of them by memory, he knew the scent of your perfume and the oils you use after bathing.

He looked up at you with a questioning look, he mindlessly run the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip when you exposed your juicy breasts. He always had a thing for them, he was always enchanted by the feminine chest as the highest form of femininity, big or small, that sensual shape was the epitome of life, of the charms of Eve in the Garden of Eden, the Mother Earth personified into the sacred body of his wife.

His eyes darted up back at you, a silent question on him as you didn’t let his confusion overwhelm you, you fought it with calmness and temperance.

“I know only one way to calm a restless Kreizler”

Your words would have made him smile as your open arms weren’t such a charming offer. He run his tongue again over his upper lip this time, using his left arm as support he slowly slipped closer to you.

His face leaned to yours as you didn’t seem to have changed your mind.

Somebody else would have maybe found it repulsive, a man of simple and good heart like John would have felt that kind of attention misplaced.

But not him.

He lowered himself over your chest adjusting into a nice position as you used few extra pillows you had there to ensure him a comfortable stay. His nose gently brushed over the inside of your chest, his hot breath hitting over your skin as he looked up at you once more and once more a welcoming smile followed his gaze.

He leaned down once again, lips parted to gently capture your nipple among them. Your mouth gaping lightly as he sucked a bit too much at the beginning sending shivers down your spine but just like any child his sucking revealed his anxiety to be fed, his fear and his need of protection.

You wrapped one arm around him as with the other you brushed his hair, your nails gently scratching his scalp to relax him, fingers combing his always well kept hair.

You watched his eyes flutter closed as you resumed your usual humming. It wasn’t a real lullaby, it was some of a rhythm you got stuck in your head.

“You’re here and I am here, our baby is safe from the world outside and nothing bad can happen” you narrated softly to him “you’re the most amazing man I have ever met, I know that the clarity of your thinking will come back. Just stop the world for a moment, it will all be back when the time comes right”

He hummed softly as you fell silent gently caressing him as you observed him lovingly, the fingers of his weak right hand toying with your braid. His beard hitching a bit in the beginning but you got soon used to it, you didn’t speak up anymore, you felt him relax more and more and you also did. This new kind of bond felt pleasurable and sweet, you felt to have reached a new kind of intimacy which is all you could hope for your marriage.

The time passed in silence, not a sound disturbing you until Laszlo’s relaxed body stretched lightly, the common knowledge telling you that the baby is fed.

He pulled back slowly before resting a kiss over your chest in a silent thank you.

He rested his head over your lap observing you like some Madonna staring at him with you gentle tenderness, not even Michelangelo could have grasped the beauty of your act or the absolute unfiltered love of your gaze.

“Was it pleasurable for you?”

He asked as you smiled gently caressing his cheek and his beard

“It was, you are really gentle” you answered. Another thing that you loved about your marriage was the unfiltered expression of feelings. You both looked for clarity through the eyes of your partner.

“Does it makes me your child?”

You smiled understandingly. This is your Laszlo, inquiring, curious, witty.

“No, no I don’t have a feeling that resemblance to breastfeed a child, it is more deep, more bound into my mind as an act of” you stopped thinking about it.

“Communion?”

He dared and you nodded as that was the right word.

“There’s a 1903 study, a German alienist suggested practicing erotic lactation as a way to deepen the relationship between husband and wife in a book called Die Offenbarung im Weibe, quite of a title I’d say, but he advised it as a good way to family plan, to give both the partners pleasure and he focused most of his studies over the idea of women’s sexual satisfaction being vital to the creation of an happy marriage.”

“It pleases me, I won’t deny it and it is a way that makes me feel you closer to me but in a more primal way, closer to the way sex works but with a different meaning”

He nodded as he toyed still with your brain slowly, a little fetish he just noticed in himself still doomed by the charm of unfiltered pure femininity.

Long hair, breasts, welcoming hips, all details that attracted him and drawn him toward you.

“There’s a study case, a man, a very wealthy one, he was obsessed with female hair. The smell, the composition, the touching” he paused as he toyed with yours among his fingers “He wouldn’t be able to suppress his desire, he confessed me his deepest fantasy was to have an orgasm while kissing the female hair and burying his head through them. It was peculiar but not harmful until he got himself a pocket knife, one of those not even good for a little pickpocketing but just as good to be able to cut some ladies’s hair in a crowd”

You kept caressing his hair yourself, probably moved also by the story, observing it and enjoying the texture.

“Do you think the killer of children needs to posses his fetish then?”

He nodded as you’re so smart.

“The possession is part of the final abdication of a person to their fetish, to be up to crime to own the desired being just proves the final commitment to the satisfaction of one’s desires” he explained to you and he paused now almost asking to himself “why would somebody steal a child then?”

You turned around looking at the crib where your baby girl rested.

“Because my crib is empty” you said and his eyes widened lightly.

“Tell me more, try to imagine it”

You frowned lightly as you moved your hands away from him, making distance, imagining the loneliness of empty arms, the excruciating pain of having a child and then not having it anymore.

“I need to give my love to my child” you said then taking a pause, your eyes staring to some unknown spot of the room “and if my child is not there, I will make sure that there will be”

Laszlo sat up as he stared at you.

“But that child won’t resemble you, your child was special and peculiar in its own way, this child grows up, changes, blabbers words while yours didn’t”

He pushed this image in you as you came to the only reasonable deduction you’d do if you were in such a state

“Then that is not my child” you said only “my child is somewhere else and this one is an impostor”

Laszlo nodded “So you get rid of it as soon as the reality outgrows the fantasy”

He concluded.

You looked at him as he stared back at you, a woman, the killer must be a woman that lost a child or got it taken away from her. She finds surrogates and dismisses them, she probably never saw her baby grow so they can’t grow.

“What would I do without you?”

You smiled at his words “you’d be completely lost, we both know about it” you said kissing his lips having a taste of your own medicine “now get into your night clothing, you’ll see Sara tomorrow to give her this new perspective.”

He smiled, not even a trace of the worried and confused Laszlo that stepped I the room before. He was back to his senses, his mind active, he could see with clarity.

- - - - - - -

The case unveiled itself, proof after proof, run after run, document after document he came to the solution.

He was proud, you and the baby were safe and now he could go back to the everyday.

“I don’t see the point Laszlo, you have proved yourself enough against him” John said as he stared up at his annoyed features s you served him some more tea.

John looked at you like why are you not stopping him but you just smiled it off relaxing in the loveseat beside your husband as John shook his shoulders like an annoyed bird.

“A man like Dr Markoe after all he did holding a public lecture with the anguishing title of Murder, Madness and Motherhood?” Laszlo snapped back at John “please, the least I can do is to humiliate him in front of the whole academic arena”

Laszlo leaned back smiling at his friend like he was just a poor fool.

“He will again fight on you, you know he always picks up on you for treating mostly children and being part of the investigation, you get heated with him and you lose your control”

John seemed only to know reasons to get Laszlo to desist, you understood him from your part, your husband was a fiery character and he hardly forgive people with quick and poor judgements. You also noticed he became way more aggressive toward Markoe since before the case, he always depicted pregnant women as prone to lose control, foolish and behaving like animals that had to be kept on a tight leash, it all in particular when you were expecting.

John’s tsunami of words couldn’t be stopped he had a reason not to do anything but your attention was quickly taken away by the soft touch of Laszlo’s hand on your side, just above the hem of your corset, his thumb tracing the side of your boob giving you a shiver as you already knew perfectly what he was demanding.

You could now tell that John actually made him feel unsure or at least unsettled him, he needed comfort and energies to face his enemy now.

Sara groaned making herself heard for the first time, she noticed his gesture and found it actually cute as she could never wish Laszlo with somebody more perfected than you. Your calmness matched his fiery nature, you talked when he needed to think, you smiled when he couldn’t. You allowed him to be more himself than he had ever been.

“Let’s go John, you’re being so obnoxious, at what time we will see the butchery of the doctor?”

You quickly answered to her giving her a gentle smile as she put John to silence.

She asked as she stood up and John groaned following her “See you there” John said still saying how useless it was to still go after that man.

Laszlo stood up escorting them to the exit and then coming back to the living room. You sat there like he left you, he would close the door behind his back locking it before crossing the room with long steps and close the curtains letting the darkness wrap around you. Your fingers slowly undoing your shirt as his shape takes again form in front of you as he turns on one lamp in the corner of the room before moving closer to you again, eyes shining even in the obscurity as his fingers finally meet with your skin once you undid the first knots on your corset.

“Give me life” he would plead to you before lacing his lips your nipple once more.

You knew from the first suck on your nipple how Markoe held no chance on today’s debate.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog

[rowanaelinn]

Marry me.

warning : nsfw

this is my first time writing smut or just writing a fic in general so i’m sorry if it’s cringy :(

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you speechless before, buzzard.”

Rowan looked up to meet her eyes. He could see the hint of worry, hidden by her smirk. He hated to see any other emotions on her face than pure happiness. He would normally try to wash away the worry, but right now he had to focus on his own emotions. Aelin had always been the kind of person to say disturbing things and it was one of the things he loved the most about her. He would never get bored at her side, even if she settled and became immortal. But now, she had just said the most disturbing thing Rowan had ever heard in his three centuries of life.

“You..” He began and had to take a minute so his voice would stop shaking, he wasn’t ashamed to show emotions in front of her. Never in front of her. “You want us to marry?” He had to be sure because there was no way he heard her right.

She took a deep breath and nodded with a small smile on her perfect face.

“Just… Give me a minute, Fireheart.” He shook his head, trying to chase away Lyria’s screams and the images of her dead body. He had left her alone. If he had been capable of doing that to his mate, what would he be able to do to his wife? No matter that his feelings for Aelin were stronger and deeper than anything he had ever felt for anyone before, he was still a bad person. He would drive a dagger through his heart before hurting Aelin intentionally, but what could he do unwittingly? He took her hand in his and guided her so she straddled him. His hands automatically found her waist and hers went to both sides of his face.

“I know what you are, Rowan. And I want nothing more than what you’re already giving me. I want nothing more than your love. You’re already giving me so much .” She confessed and kissed him. It wasn't heated or guided by passion. It was her way to show him she was saying the truth. “You’re everything I want, and you are more than enough, Rowan.”

“Fireheart…” He murmured when she pressed their foreheads together.

“I love you, Rowan. That’s why I want to marry you, not because of what you can bring me to win this war.”

“The war is still a reason, though, isn’t it?” He asked and she sighed, closing her eyes.

“It makes me want to do it earlier and quicker than what I wished. I wish we could have waited after my coronation, so we could have everything you and I ever dreamed of, but time isn’t our ally.” She opened her eyes and as always he was struck by the intensity of her gaze. He couldn’t look away from her even if he wanted to. “But something tells me you would be happy to skip the endless wedding celebrations Terassen has to offer.”

She smiled and he chuckled softly, a sound only Aelin have the privilege to hear. “You know me so well.”

“I do.” She kissed him. “But if you don’t want to marry me, it’s okay.”

“I’ve wanted to marry you since the moment you smiled at me through your flames.” He told her. The Gods knew how much he wanted to marry her, his queen, his… No, he had to get rid of this traitorous thought. He wanted to marry her, but he wasn’t really sure why she would want him .

“Yeah?” She asked with a smile. He could see the concern leaving her beautiful face.

“I’ve wanted to do so many things to you, with you, at that moment. Marrying you was one of them.”

“Other things?”

“Off-topic” He growled and she laughed.

“You never answered, buzzard.”

He took her face between his hands, forcing her eyes to meet his. “It would be an honor to be your husband, Fireheart.” And he kissed her. Both of their smiles preventing them from deepening the kiss, but he didn’t care. All that mattered in the world was the female in his arms. He knew she wasn’t only marrying him for love, but also for the security of Terrasen. If anything happened to her, Terrasen would have a king she trusted. Someone who thought as she did, with the same values. Deep down, he knew he would be lost without her. He would ask Lorcan or anyone else strong enough, to kill him. Life didn’t have any sense before he met her, and it would lose all sense if he lost her.

“If you keep kissing me we won’t leave this room.” She murmured onto his lips, making his smile bigger. He bought his lips back on hers, enjoying the feeling. “We need witnesses.” She interrupted again.

“Aedion and Lysandra.” They were the only two people other than Aelin he trusted on this boat. A year ago, it would have been Lorcan, Gavriel, or even Fenrys. But now he couldn’t even trust them with being around Aelin, not when they were bond to another queen. “I want our family to be here.”

Aelin’s smile was so contagious he started smiling again, too. “I like the sound of that.” She said, softly. He raised his eyebrows to ask a silent question. “ Our family.” That’s what they were, their family. Rowan already thought about getting the same tattoo as Aedion, all their names, close his heart. He would get it if he survived this war.

“You go wake up Lysandra.” He said, taking his hands off her. “And I’ll go wake up Aedion and the captain.”

-

Aelin knocked on the door as fast and as strong as possible, not caring if she woke up everyone on this floor. She was feeling so much, so much that it made her shaking. Lysandra opened the door after two minutes of intense knocking. She looked tired, and Aelin might have felt bad for waking her up if she wasn’t feeling so much joy. Aelin took a breath and then, “I’m getting married.”

Lysandra frowned, opened her mouth, closed it. Opened it again, and closed it again. She shook her head, sighing. “I don’t know why I’m still surprised.”

“I’m getting married right now and I need a witness. Are you in or do I have to wake someone else up?” Aelin asked, knowing very well Lysandra wouldn’t miss a secret wedding for all the world.

“Don’t you dare, and come in.” She said and took Aelin’s arm a little bit rougher than necessary to drag her inside her room. Aelin stumbled over some clothes on the floor, Lysandra was the messiest person Aelin ever met.

“Lysandra I don’t have time.”

“I think your future husband can wait two minutes.” Aelin’s heart clenched when she heard that. Future husband . Even if she could never tell him they didn’t need to marry because their connection was deeper than any vows they could make before the Gods, at least she could have him this way. Not as her mate but as her husband. “We need to do something.”

“I know,” Aelin said, voice quieter than a minute before. A wedding changes everything. “The plan-”

“Don’t,” Lysandra ordered. “Tonight is your happy night, Aelin. We’ll talk, yes, tomorrow. Tonight you think about nothing else than being happy and beautiful.” She said with a small smile on her face. She cupped one of Aelin’s cheeks, the gesture of a sister.

“I’m always beautiful.” They both laughed.

“You said he liked gold, didn’t you?” Lysandra asked after a moment when she walked toward the little wardrobe.

Aelin furrowed her eyebrows. “Why?” Lysandra turned toward the queen and smirked. Aelin didn’t know if she found the gesture amusing or scary.

“I have a wedding gift for you.” She said and started looking for something in the wardrobe.

“I am not getting married in a nightgown, Lys,” Aelin warned but a small smile was on her face. It would be hilarious to see Rowan trying to control himself if she walked in the room with the little nightgown she wore in Rilfhold. He would probably kill the captain for seeing her in such scandalous clothes. He would maybe try to kill Aedion too, cousin or not.

“Of course you’re not, you’re getting married in this.” She said as she turned around. She had a very long gown in her hands. Aelin's breath caught as she admired the garment. The gown was a deep green that reminded her of Rowan's eyes and when she looked at Lysandra she realized that this was no coincidence. The bodice was adorned with gold lace as was the bottom of the gown.

She didn't know how much this gown cost but it had to be one of the most expensive garments she had ever seen.

“Why… Why do you have that?” She asked, getting closer to the dress to touch it. When she looked up at Lysandra she had a feline smile on her face.

“I just packed some fine clothes, in case we needed them.”

“When could we need clothes like that in the middle of a war?” Aelin asked, tracing the lace pattern with her fingertips. It was one of the prettiest gowns she had ever seen. It was perfect for her. Green was Rowan’s color and gold was hers. It was like the dress was made for her. Made for this special occasion.

“With you, I’m never sure of anything. And see, I was right!”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.” She did, she really did.

“Stop using your mouth and help me get into this.”

-

The gown was perfect, and when she looked in the small mirror Aelin couldn’t see everything, but she knew she looked good. More than good actually. Lysandra hadn't done much to Aelin's hair. She brushed it and tied two front strands to the back of her head to highlight her face and eyes.

“You look great, Aelin.” Lysandra smiled as she made Aelin turn on herself to admire the gown. “Listen I know it is tradition to have something new, something old, something borrowed, and something blue when you marry.” Aelin couldn’t suppress her smile. She didn’t have a lot of memories with her parents but she remembered her mother telling her everything about her wedding. Her gown was blue, Aelin’s father had given her the amulet of Orynth, and Aelin’s uncle had let her borrow one of the tiaras from Terrasen’s collection. She wished her parents could be here tonight.

“The gown is new, you have blue eyes so let’s pretend it works, your future husband is old as hell so he can do the trick.” Aelin burst out laughing. A loud laugh, pure of joy. Lysandra laughed too and made Aelin turn around to look at her. “You need something borrowed.” The shifter said and started taking off the bracelet from her wrist. She took Aelin’s hand and put it in it.

“A bracelet?” She asked as she looked at it. It was a beautiful jewel. It was simple, a gold bracelet with three small pendants attached to each other.

“Sam gave it to me, as an early birthday present. The summer Arobynn sent you away.” She looked up at Lysandra who had a sad smile on her face. "Sometimes I wonder if he knew that one day you and I would become friends. And if he didn't see us as three people who grew up together against a common enemy."

“I can’t…” Aelin’s voice broke and she had to fight against the tears. Sometimes she wondered the same, and she wondered what would happen if Sam was here with them now.

“Take it. So you have something from me and something from him.” Tears were rolling down her face.

“Lysandra, I can’t thank you enough…”

“You don’t need to.” She said and took Aelin in her arms. The two women hugged each other strongly. “I know he is watching us right now, and I know he is happy.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. He is proud of you.” They let go of each other and Aelin wasn’t the only one crying. “Let’s go, his highness is probably waiting for you.”

-

Aelin was putting on her shoes when the door to the room opened, slamming into the wall. The two women turned to see Aedion enter the room, dressed in his fighting clothes, as tradition required in Terrasen. “Girls, don’t wanna rush you but the captain is a cranky bastard and-” He stopped when his eyes found Aelin. “Fuck.”

“Be careful what you say, this my work of art,” Lysandra warned.

Aedion’s mouth opened slightly as he looked at Aelin's outfit. His mouth formed a smile. Big and bright. “You… You look amazing, Aelin.” He said as he walked towards her. Aelin smiled at her cousin and held out her hand for him to take in his. Aelin could see the happiness on her cousin's face, the only member of her family who was still alive. His approval was important to her.

“Will you walk me?” Aelin asked and he squeezed her hand.

“Of course.” he nodded briskly. He shook his head, letting out a breathy laugh, and repeated, "Of course."

“I’m gonna join the groom. Don’t take too much time.” Lysandra said, put her hand on Aedion's shoulder and Aelin couldn't help but notice how her cousin looked at her friend as he turned his head. These two had been flirting since they met but recently that had changed. It had become real. She was happy for him, for both of them. Happy that they found some happiness in the middle of this chaos.

“Not like you did?”

“Keep your pretty mouth shut, Aedion.” The shifter teased before leaving. Aedion turned his head back to Aelin and had a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Heard that? Pretty mouth.”

“You ignored every other word she said, didn’t you?”

“Totally.” They both laughed and Aedion removed his hand from Aelin's before holding out his arm for Aelin to take. She rolled her eyes before sliding her arm under Aedion's. “Ready?”

“Always.” She said, and she really was. Before her parents and uncle were killed, before Terrasen was taken by Ardarlan and before Arobynn found her half-dead, Aelin thought a lot about her wedding. How it would go? Who would walk her down the aisle? But every time she thought about it, she was afraid. Scared of being married for an alliance. Even if she would have done it for her kingdom, she didn't find much pleasure in imagining herself married to someone she didn't love.

But it wasn't marrying Rowan that frightened her. Marrying Rowan was the easiest thing she could imagine. But imagining Rowan as a widower in a few days, a few months at best, made her sick. But she had to do it, even if he was going to hate her.

“I know why you’re doing this,” No, no he didn’t. Not entirely. “But enjoy your night.” He said softly when they left the room. “You’ll get married only once, cousin.”

“Do you approve?” She had to ask. She needed to know if she was doing the right thing.

“Are you asking my opinion? Are you sure you’re alright?” He teased her and she rolled her eyes. She had to pull up her gown to avoid falling down the stairs to the captain's cabin.

“You, Elide, Ren and I are the only children of Terrasen still alive, I need to know what I’m doing is right.”

“I couldn’t think of anyone else fit to be king. I think this is the right choice.” His words eased something in her.

“Good.”

“We’re here.” He said as they stopped in front of a wooden door. “Stressed?”

“No. Not at all. As you said, he is the perfect choice. For both Terrasen and me.”

-

Rowan was seconds away from punching the captain in the face. He was doing his best to ignore his sighs and comments the captain probably thought were quiet. When the captain starts stamping his feet on the floor Rowan grunted as he looked at him, he paled the moment he heard Rowan.

Lysandra tried to hide her laughter but when Rowan turned his head towards her, she laughed harder. Rowan shook his head and tried to hide his own smile.

He heard the door open and he, Lysandra, and the captain turned around. His breath was taken away when he saw her. She was wearing a green and gold gown. Metallic gold, his favorite. He wasn’t sure to be breathing when his eyes took her in from top to bottom, his eyes passing through her cleavage revealing part of her chest. The gown's corset hugged her curves. She had always been beautiful, it always stuck him stupid when he looked at her and today was no exception. He knew she deserved a better man than him, but he didn't care anymore. She was his and he would never let her go.

Aelin and Aedion walked toward him and when they got close enough, Aedion took his arm off Aelin’s before taking it to give it to Rowan. Aelin smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but grin back.

“You hurt her, you’re dead,” Aedion said and Rowan could see the humor in his eyes. He also knew Aedion could guess what Rowan’s look meant. Try me, pup. “Welcome to the family, brother.” Rowan nodded but the words warmed up his heart. His eyes went back to Aelin.

You look amazing, Fireheart.

You’re not so bad yourself.

“Get that look off your face, your Highness,” Lysandra warned Rowan with a playful tone when his eyes found Aelin’s cleavage. He had to take a deep breath to control his body’s reaction. “Don’t even think about ripping it to shreds.”

“Can’t promise that.” He smirked. Aelin laughed softly, the shifter rolled her eyes and Aedion made a noise of disgust.

“Can we finally start? We sail in thirty minutes.” The captain asked with an exasperated voice and Rowan had to keep himself from ripping out his throat. Having him near Aelin was hard enough, the bastard didn’t bother to hide the way he looked at her.

Aelin seemed to remember something, she turned her head toward Lysandra. “Did you-”

“I made him sign everything.” Lysandra cut her off. Lysandra made good words of the promise she made when she joined him here. I know we’re at war, but tonight is your night. Enjoy it, I’m taking care of everything.

“Ready?” Rowan asked her, even if he already knew her answer.

“Ready.” She smiled at him and looked at the captain. “Go straight to the point.”

“Does anyone have rings?" Rings were a mortal tradition. Fae usually only bit their partner as a claiming but they didn’t buy jewels. It’s only at that moment he realized Aelin had grown up as a mortal, she was used to their ways, not the one of the Faes. He opened his hand, held it out to Aelin, and a second later a simple ring made of ice appeared. It wouldn’t last, but at least it was something. Once again he was reminded of how little he could give her. Every thought went out of his head the moment he saw her smile. A moment later the same ring was in her hand but made of fire this time.

"Good. Repeat after me. I, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.”

“I, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers and couldn’t hear the captain’s voice... It was like he could see all of her soul, and every bit of it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “Take you, Rowan Whitethorn, to be my lawfully wedded husband.” She took his left hand and slid the ring of fire onto his fourth finger. The flame did not burn, it was just hot enough to be a comforting presence. Just like his Fireheart. “To whatever end.” Like that day on the beach, he felt the claiming in his soul. He was still only barely aware of the captain talking beside them.

“I, Rowan Whitethorn.” A tear rolled down Aelin's cheek and a twin tear fell from Rowan's eye. Happy. That’s what they were at that very moment. For the first time, nothing else than them mattered. “Take you, Aelin Fireheart Ashryver Galathynius, to be my lawfully wedded wife.” He slid the ring he made her on her finger. When he was done, she kept his hand in hers, linking their fingers together. “To whatever end.”

They spent what felt like hours looking into each other's eyes. He was barely aware of the tears streaming down her face or her smile. Looking at her that way he could admire everything about her soul. Her darkness and her light. Her flaws and her qualities. Every part of her, no matter how dark, was sublime. And he loved them just as much.

He loved everything about her, even all those things that drove him crazy with anger a few months ago, he loved them anyway. Because she was Aelin. Because they were one soul in two bodies, destined to find each other one day. Their powers had been created to complement each other. They had been created to complement each other.

He could hear nothing but Aelin's racing heartbeat. He didn't care what the captain said, he was going to kiss his wife and no one could stop him. He put his hand on Aelin's cheek before leaning in and putting his lips on hers. She let go of his hand before wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her body to his. His free arm was wrapped around her waist, the satin of the gown caressed his hand. He wanted no space between them. Whether it was their bodies or their souls.

He was only slightly aware of the captain's scream of fear as Aelin's flames and Rowan's ice began to wrap around them. Their magic played together in rhythm with the soft strokes of their tongues against each other.

Being in her arms, soul against soul, was home. Aelin was his home.

-

The moment their bedroom door slammed shut, Rowan pressed Aelin against the wall. His mouth on hers, Aelin wasted no time before starting to unbutton her husband's shirt. Husband . It changed everything and nothing at the same time.

Unable to focus on Rowan's shirt as he kissed her passionately and his hands roamed over her body, Aelin tore off Rowan's shirt, making him chuckle softly. He always preferred it when Aelin made a mess, anyway. When his hands found her backside, Aelin couldn't help but move her hips forward to rub against Rowan's. She needed him, now.

"Would Lysandra be angry if I ruined this gown?" He murmured against her mouth, his voice low and deep, betraying his desire.

"Very."

"Fun." He said before ripping the gown from the back. He slid the gown material off her shoulders to drop it to the floor as he continued to kiss her. When his hands returned to her waist he grunted. Aelin smirked, glad he'd found Lysandra's latest surprise. He stepped back to look at her fully. She wasn't naked under the dress as he might have thought. She was dressed in the golden nightgown.

She could feel his burning gaze on every inch of her skin. Her breathing was ragged and she bit her lip as her eyes met Rowan's again. She could almost guess what he wanted to do to her. Far too much, considering they only had fifteen minutes to consume their marriage. She could smell his scent loading with arousal and she smiled at the way it affected him. He wanted her so badly that she didn't need to be naked to turn him on.

"Are you going to watch me all night or are you finally going to do something?"

"What do you want me to do, Aelin?" He asked slowly, cocking his head. He was looking at her like she was prey, and she loved it.

"Why don’t you show your queen how much you love her?" She challenged him. His eyes never left hers as a lazy grin came over his face and he fell to his knees facing her. Her breathing quickened. This wasn't what she had in mind, but who was she to complain? The most powerful pure-blooded Fae was kneeling before her. A king was on his knees. He would never have to kneel for anyone ever again but he would for her, for his queen, for his wife.

She could feel his warm breath on her scarred skin. He kissed her thigh and continued to kiss her skin as he moved up to the place she needed him most. Before he reached the edge of her nightgown, he repeated his actions on her other leg.

She was about to catch fire. She had more control over her powers than she did on the beach, but she couldn't contain it anymore. She needed him, right now.

She squirmed beneath his lips and he slid his hands from her legs to her backside to keep her in place. He groaned when he ran his hands under her nightgown and found no underwear.

"Rowan, please," Aelin begged him. She had learned how much he liked hearing her beg for him. He pulled up her nightgown and she felt his hot breath on her most sensitive part. He looked up at her and smiled.

"You look so beautiful, Fireheart," he said before parting her fold. She couldn’t think of any answer as she felt his tongue on her after he took her left leg and put it on his shoulder. She was completely exposed to her and it made him groan.

He didn't waste time before finding her clit and when he did she threw her head back, moaning. He licked and sucked exactly the way she loved. She felt one of his fingers at her entrance and she was a goner. She prayed that Rowan had put a magic shield around their room but it wouldn’t bother her if everyone on this boat heard them. Heard how she planned to claim him.

He snuck one finger in her and then a second one. Her right hand found his hair and pulled them. She started grinding against his face, just needing a little more to reach her climax. Rowan curled his fingers and found the spot that made her scream every single time. "Rowan, please, please, please…" She didn’t even know what she was begging for. He kept working her higher and higher and she never wanted this moment to stop. She came when she felt his free hand slide on her body to reach her breast and play with her nipple, crying out his name. Even if he wanted to windrow he couldn’t with the strength she used to hold his head against her.

He softened his actions but didn’t stop while she climaxed, working her through her orgasm. He took his fingers out of her and gave her clit one last lick before getting back on his feet. She wanted to kiss him, needed it, but his mouth was already busy licking his fingers. He held her gaze and that was probably the most erotic sight Aelin had ever seen.

"You taste so good, Aelin. I could stay on my knees forever for you." When did he become so talkative? She couldn’t complain, it turned her on. Her quiet prince hid his dirty mouth quite well.

Even if she just came she needed more. She needed him. She didn’t waste time before taking a step toward him to kiss him while her hands explored his body. Aelin wished they had more than a few minutes to enjoy their time together. But they didn’t, so her hand quickly found the bulge in Rowan’s pants. He barked a curse and Aelin smirked, proud to cause this reaction.

She could taste herself in his mouth and it made her moan. If she didn’t have him in the next two minutes she would die.

Aelin took off his sword belt, making the weapons fall on the floor. If Fenrys who was in the cabin just under theirs didn’t know what was happening, he surely would now. Aelin broke the kiss and stopped Rowan when he tried to kiss her again.

She used all her strength to push him on the bed, making him fall on his back. He looked at her with a feral grin. Rowan parted his still-clothed legs to let Aelin stand between them.

Very slowly, she slid her hands on her body. His gaze followed her hands on her breast, teasing her nipples. She took off one of the nightgown’s straps, and then the other one. The garment slipped off her body and fell to the floor, revealing her naked body. Rowan's eyes darkened at the sight of his wife. He sat up to touch her, his hands touched her hips while his eyes never left her, drinking in the sight of her body. He kissed her stomach, and before things could fall out of Aelin's control, she stopped him.

She shook her head slowly, pushing Rowan onto his back as she climbed on top of him, her knees on either side of his body. His hands found her backside and he grunted as he pressed her to him.

One of Aelin's hands unbuttoned Rowan's pants and he helped her slide them down his legs. He removed his pants, dropping them to the floor, joining the rest of their clothes. She rolled her hips, looking for friction.

"What are you waiting for, your majesty?" He whispered between kisses.

"Bastard." She replied but before she could take him in her hand, he flipped them over, causing her to fall onto her back. His body covered hers and she could feel his hard length so close to where she needed him.

"Now, is that a good way to talk to your husband, Aelin?" He teased and slid his hand up her body until it ended on her neck. Rowan's eyes didn't leave Aelin's, checking to make sure everything was okay as is hand, that until now had been just a faint presence on her neck, began to squeeze a little tighter at her sides, Aelin groaned and closed her legs, trying to find some friction.

His other hand found one of her nipples and drew circles around it, then went down her body to spread her legs and find her parted folds. One of his fingers found her bundle of nerves and drew little circles, just the way she liked it. She threw her head back and moaned his name as he tightened his grip on her neck a little more.

"What is it you want, Aelin?" He asked as he stooped to kiss her breast. He couldn't answer, too focused on every spot he touched on her body. "What is it that you want, Aelin?" He repeated as he lifted his head to look into her eyes. He slid a finger inside her, making her cry out his name.

"Please, Rowan."

"Tell me what you want and you shall have it, my Queen."

She took his head in her hands, forcing their lips to almost touch. "Fuck me, please, take me now I need you."

“Fuck." He kissed her and she opened her mouth, letting his tongue in. Rowan's hand that was pleasuring Aelin between her legs left that spot to pin her hands above her head. She wrapped her legs around Rowan's hips and he swore.

They didn't have much time left so the hand he had around her neck slid down and found his cock. He teased her entrance, she bucked her hips, tried to make him do something , but with his weight on her, she couldn’t do anything.

“You’re such a desperate little thing, aren’t you?” He murmured in her ear and she felt her core clenched at his words. She didn’t know what was happening with him but she loved it. She loved being the only one to know this side of him.

"If you don't do anything I promise you that-" She was cut off by a groan when he suddenly entered her. He was so big and she needed a few moments to adjust.

"Anything you want, Ms. Whitethorn Galathynius." He said into her ear before he began to push into her.

He nibbled on her ear and she threw her head back as his free hand found her neck and again he applied pressure to the sides.

His thrust quickened and she tried to free her hands, needing to touch him but he wouldn't let her. She knew why, if he couldn't give her more than he was already giving her for this war, he would do anything for her in their room.

“Let me touch you, please,” she begged him when she closed her eyes, focusing on the pleasure. He let her hands go and they automatically found his back, trying to bring him even closer to her.

She scratched his back and he growled. One of her hands went up to his head to make him kiss her. The kiss was messy but she loved it. "Harder," she moaned and he complied. The only sounds in the room were their moans and the sounds of skin against skin.

Rowan's free hand slipped between their bodies and found her clit, making her cry out. He dropped his head into the crook of her neck and Aelin knew his body well enough to know that he was close.

She felt herself falling off the edge, she just needed a little more to find her climax. She would like to say a lot of things, but the only word she felt like she knew at that moment was his name.

"Come for me, Fireheart." He ordered her with as much authority in his voice as possible. "Come for me." His movements on her clit quickened and she didn't know if she was screaming or crying, probably both, she wasn't aware of anything other than where they were joined. She bit her bottom lip, trying to stay quiet. “Let me hear you, Aelin.” And she did.

He removed his hand from her neck, stopping to play with her breath and before she could beg him to do it again he sank his teeth into her neck. The pain immediately turned to pleasure and that was just what she needed. She reached her orgasm and was only vaguely aware that she was screaming his name. She tightened her legs around Rowan's hips, making it difficult to move. But he continued to prolong her orgasm while searching for his own.

His thrusts were messy and sloppy, and when she bit him on his shoulder a few seconds later he finished inside her, grunting her name on the sensitive skin of her neck after he bit her.

They were trying to catch their breath when Rowan fell onto the bed right next to her. How could it get any better every single time? She could never have enough, she would always need more. More Rowan. More intimacy between the two of them. She turned on her side and tried to hug him but before she could touch him he stood up and Aelin frowned. He usually stayed more in bed with her, but she didn't mind admiring his backside.

He took the bucket of seawater they had in their room and took some in his hand. She understood what he wanted to do and she smiled. "Rowan." She stopped him as she got up from the bed. He looked back at her and had a satisfied smile on his face at the sight of his wife walking naked towards him. "Let me."

He nodded and she took the water and placed it on his shoulder. He squeaked slightly and Aelin laughed. Instead of saying something, he took the water too and placed it on her neck. She squeaked too and it was Rowan's turn to laugh. Their marks were now forever etched in their skin. A claim. He was hers and she was his. She wanted the world to know it. She wanted the world to know Rowan was the reason she was happy. She also wanted him to have something other than memories when she would leave. So he could never forget her.

"I love you, Aelin. To whatever end." He put his forehead against her and she threw her arms around him, wanting him as close to her as possible.

"I love you, Rowan. To whatever end."

[peculiarpatches]

𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 - 𝘫𝘢𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘹 𝑓𝑒𝑚 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

I’m republishing this since it hardly got notes the last time and I’m ~ crazy ~ and need validation that my stories are good. Out of all the Twilight ones I’ve been working on, this still is one of my favorite’s because it’s the first one I’ve ever written. It’s the first one that got me inspired to write for the other characters, too. So, as much as I love this one, I hope you love it, too.

A/N: This story includes smut. If this makes you uncomfortable, don’t read. Simple as that. 

 There’s not much other than oral and dirty talk, however. Either way, I hope you enjoy.

Centuries — that's how long Alice and Jasper have been together for.  The two were simply inseparable; Stuck to each other like glue. It'd take millions of weapons  and hundreds of people to try and tear them apart, no matter what happened or what went on in their crazy, immortal lives, it didn't matter, no, because they lived for each other. 

Their lives were better, happier, because of that other person.  

And nothing - nor, nobody - was ever going to change the fact.   Jasper wasn't one to express his feelings (though, he could control other people's emotions,  ironically enough) but that small grin you  see every now and then across his face  was all thanks to Alice.

 The smile belonged to her because she was the one that brought peace, happiness, and love back into his life, even when he swore he'd never find it. Hell, he swore he'd never find any of those listed off again, if he was being honest here. But... she somehow did it. She brought all of those into his life along with hope and faith.  (Alice told him that very saying too upon their first encounter  together - the moment she took his hand with her own, she felt hope. And she hadn't felt that in centuries. He never met the gal before, not having a single clue as to who she was. Here he was, sitting in a  diner in  Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, trying to figure out where he planned to go afterwards, where his next stop would be within the states when an attractive woman walked up to him, letting a happy, relieved sigh fall from her lips. "It's about time." She announced, the grin growing across her face as she slid in the opposite side of the booth, guiding her hand out to take Jasper's hand within her much smaller one. She gave his fingers a squeeze and explained the situation, the happiness on her face only growing wider and brighter as she continued to talk. Jasper was  confused, to say the very least;  But her emotions overwhelmed him so much, in his gut and in his heart, he felt as if he could trust her, right then and there. 

Even if they have only have met that day, she spoke about the future and to others, they would have laughed and called her crazy. But the way she spoke, so open, so generous, loving and kind, all these feelings directed towards him, he felt it, too - love. Love at first sight, if you will. And Jasper had ever only felt that once and it lasted briefly.  But this time, as he continued to listen to her speak,  a tiny grin found it's way across his lips. In-love, he was. As absurd, and as crazy as it may sound, he could feel it. They belonged together. And the gal - Alice - was exactly like him, too. Of course, she would be, having a power like that and all.  Alice saw them in the future, had seen Jasper plenty of times in her mind but didn't know exactly when she'd be meeting him.  She admitted today, however, she knew.  Jasper even said he felt something today, too. He just didn't exactly know what it was. But he felt it. The emotions were difficult to ignore. He laughed and leaned close, whispering to Alice he assumed these feelings he felt within him were nothing but hunger. "You won't have to worry about that, either." She told him. "I know a way of keeping not only you safe but me, as well. To keep your hunger satisfied without harming or needing to hunt humans." Alice continued. Jasper cocks his head to the side, confusion written across his facial features, as he wondered what she meant by this. Instead of asking, as he figured he'd understand more of the situation later, he chuckled and gave her hand a squeeze which she happily returned. "Well, now you have me and I promise you, I won't ever let a pretty gal like you go, either." He said, making the smile on her face somewhat bigger than what it was before. "I wouldn't let you lose me, anyways." She responded. "Besides, I see the future here, don't I? None of that will be happening. You're stuck with me, Jasper." Jasper laughed gently, "I'm more than perfectly fine w'tha, darlin'." He commented, his accent  drawing out as he spoke.)   (Love - Jasper never wanted to look for it. Never sat down and thought about having a significant other.   He assumed he'd be alone, forever. And as dull and as depressing as that may be, he was content with it. Who could love someone as broken and as damaged as he? His past was fucked up. Surely, his future was going to remain the exact same, too. So, to Jasper, he figured it'd be best to be alone. He didn't want to put his baggage onto another person for them to carry and haul out. He'd do it himself, without a doubt or without a care in the world; he'd drag his own baggage behind him.

 Not once, did he ever think or want to allow people to see what secrets he held within the case, within himself.  But, life is amusing and love has a funny way of revealing itself. Though, so secretive and mysterious, hardly ever speaking a word to strangers, let alone any other vampires, a girl who saw the future and saw him in it, already knew all the secrets he kept hidden away from the world. 

Alice knew what Jasper's past was like. And she still accepted him. Still loved him. "If you're broken, you don't have to stay broken." She said, that same very night. "I won't let you be, neither. We'll fix each other's broken, shattered pieces, we'll place them right back together. Fit the two of them together like puzzle pieces. 'Cause, I believe that's what you are to me. You are the piece of the puzzle I've been searching to find. Been waiting centuries to come across.  And now that I finally found you, I have hope and faith once more - that everything is okay. And I hope that you believe me, too, when I say these words but; I love you, Jasper.. and again," she joked, a goofy grin playing out on her cheeks, "I see the future and therefore, I know you believe me, too. I also know you love me as well." 

And Jasper said nothing. He only chuckled deeply and nodded. He met her then and there, not once meeting her elsewhere before but  he loved her, too. And he didn't need to say those three words out loud because she already knew how much she meant to him.) (His future was brighter, better, because of Alice. And he couldn't thank her enough for showing him that life was better when you found that special someone by your side.  He found both - happiness and hope - within not only her but the Cullen family. Alice along with a man named Carlisle, even helped Jasper with his hunger and taught him how to remain strong and fight his urges.

 As Alice mentioned beforehand, back at the diner, she was going to help him. And she did. Not once did she ever break her promise to him.) However, that's when everything falls back onto him. When everything starts breaking. Decades. Centuries. Years and years together. It was bound to happen, eventually, right? Boredom. Falling out of love. Finding someone better to fulfill her needs and satisfy her. You get the idea. Jasper was afraid that Alice would announce she no longer loved Jasper, for whatever reason that may be, he didn't know. But he was going to find out today.  *~* Even if he hadn't been watching Alice,  it wouldn't and didn't matter because he could feel her emotions with as much as a second glance and a look in her direction, an overwhelming sensation would flood over him instantly. So, even if he wasn't watching her, he could feel everything she was attempting (but failing) to hide.    The typical, loving and affectionate gaze she would always give him was no longer there.  If it was, it  lasted a millisecond before she'd drop her head, strands of hair falling in front of her face and a frown would replace the look.  Of course, this was not only concerning but worrisome for Jasper. Had he done something wrong? 

If so, what did he do? What could he do to fix it? He didn't want to sound like Edward before he met Bella — dull and depressing and nothing but those but it's exactly how he felt and he hated every aspect of that. 

He and the rest of the Cullen’s made fun of Edward for being so gloom and grey but now, alas, here Jasper was, feeling that exact way. 

Oh, how the tables have turned.  Even Edward, the petty little shit he always was and will forever be, even made a joke about it.  Luckily, he had Bella beside him so Jasper couldn't abuse Edward's emotions and make him feel what he was feeling because she could put up a shield and block it out, protecting Edward.  "Just go and talk to her." Edward said once he saw the look on Jasper's face.

  "Trust me, I'm the mind reader out of all of us here. I know what I'm talking about and I know what's going on. And no, before you ask, I will not give you the answer as to what exactly is going on. You just have to go and find out yourself." He said, tilting his head back as laughter left his lips. 

 Bella scoffed and gave a playful hit to her husband's shoulders before giving Jasper an apologetic smile. The two then had left, going to go and find their daughter, leaving Jasper all alone with his thoughts and worse of all - his feelings.  Taking a deep, shaky breath, Jasper decides it's now or never.  He creeps up the stairs, and the closer he gets to his and Alice's room, he hears her angelic laughter and can practically see her, smiling from ear to ear as the giggles erupted her and hung into the air. Jasper loved her laughter, loved seeing her smile even more. 

He just hated the fact he wasn't the one who was the meaning behind it. If not him, who was?  "Darlin'?" He walks in front of the bedroom door, giving a gentle tap across the frame of it. He rocks back and forth on the heels of his feet as he anxiously waited for an answer. The loud laughter he once heard died down quickly which makes him feel even more anxious. 

Biting his lip, he shuffles and rocks his body back and forth as he still continued to wait until the door was to be answered, not wanting to walk in and upset Alice more by invading her privacy. 

The laughter is replaced now, however, with faint giggles and muffled, hushed whispers. He hears some shuffling and the bed squeaking before finally, Alice is pulling the door open. She stands there, giving Jasper a sheepish, yet shy smile. "Hi, baby." She cooed, leaning up on her tippy toes as she plants a gentle yet adoring kiss on Jasper's cheek.  This took him by surprise because not only did she call him 'baby' but she kissed him and it felt like she hadn't kissed him in years. So, this being said, it brought a smile to his lips. 

 Her upcoming sentence  brought the sides of his lips upward even more, the grin growing and his nerves and anxiety, slowly, dying out.  "You know, I've been expecting you. Wondered when you'd come up here." She said as her feet came back to touch the floor. Alice reaches over, taking Jasper's hand within her own and walks into their bedroom, closing the door behind them as Jasper walks in.  There, on the bed, was another female. She glanced up and smiled shyly, the same way Alice did when Jasper knocked at the door and she saw him behind the frame of it. 

 "Jasper, you remember (Y/N), right?" She asked, dropping his hand as she makes way to the queen sized mattress and makes herself comfortable on the bed, next to (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N). They've only met a few times and even then, it seemed so long ago, Jasper had to rethink of when and where they met at.   The graduation party they held and then Bella and Edward's wedding. 

Of course, he remembers now.  Jasper and Alice both would even bump into her while taking a stroll into town every once in awhile and in high school, they shared a few classes together.   ("You two enjoy walks in the rain too?" She had gushed, laughing as she held the umbrella above her head, trying her best to ignore and dodge the rain that fell from the sky above them. Alice and Jasper looked at each other and Alice giggled and nodded. 

"Yes. It's our favorite thing to do. One of our favorite things to do... Would you like to walk with us?" She asked. (Y/N)'s face bled a crimson red and she shook her head before mumbling about how sadly, she couldn't, though she wishes she could. She had to go back to work. She was only walking to grab a quick bite to eat, one that wasn't at the place she worked at. 

"Next time then." Alice said, the smile never dropping from her face. "Of course." (Y/N) replied before waving goodbye to the both of them and walking in the opposite direction.)  Now, coming face to face with her, after a few years of not seeing her, he wouldn't deny the obvious fact; (Y/N) was as beautiful as Alice.   Alice, though, she wasn't the jealous type, he'd never admit that or say it.  Jasper preferred to keep that thought to himself. (Y/N) was human. Jasper remembered. His smile was quick to fall down into a frown as he looked at Alice, wondering why she brought a human into their home. 

She, so easily, could expose our secret too! He thought, the frown only increasing and getting deeper as he furrowed his eyebrows together, trying to come up with an answer as to why she could be here.  And right as that thought popped into his head, Alice gave a nervous giggle and shook her head from side to side. "I'm no mind reader like Edward is but I know what you're thinking, Jas. Come, sit down with us. We've got to talk." And as confused as he may be, - especially with what she just said in front of a human, no less -  Jasper obliges and sits in the middle of them both, the mattress sinking beneath his weight. "What's going on?" He asks,  crossing his arms over his chest as a mixture of emotions paint itself across his face.   Alice, taking a long and deep breath, begins to speak. "Jasper," She began, "It's obvious I haven't been myself lately. I know you've been noticing it. Everybody has, I'm sure."  "Yes," He replied, chuckling lowly as he chewed on his bottom lip, still not piecing two and two together.  "I'm very aware of that, doll."  "Well, I don't know how else to tell you this but that reason is because of (Y/N)."   Once the sentence leaves her, Alice reached over and grabbed (Y/N)'s hand, squeezing it tightly.  Jasper blinked. Once, twice. He didn't understand. Alice and (Y/N) both looked at each other once they took notice of his expression and they erupted into a storm of giggles. 

Almost as soon as it started, however, they stopped and their expressions were quick to change. They went from laughing to a deadpanned glare, both girls wearing masks of seriousness.  "I've been having visions. Of this exquisite, gorgeous and oh, so wonderful girl. And, well, Jasper, some of us don't just have one love but we have two. Maybe even more... but in this situation, in this scenario, it's you two." She explained.  Jasper went from watching his girlfriend to giving a quick glance to (Y/N)'s direction. 

She sat there, silent, but her cheeks spoke another story. One of which, Jasper easily could read and make out.  Her cheeks, like the day they bumped into each other in town, were as red as a rose and she was biting her lower lip as she fumbled with her hands, twisting and twiddling with them as Alice continued to speak.  "I know you feel the same way about her as well. Don't even try to lie or deny it. I've been seeing the visuals everywhere, they play out like scenes in a movie. The feelings for her are the same you have for me. You gained them at the party we had a few months back, the same way I did." And Jasper sat there, feeling dumbfounded but more importantly, he felt foolish too. Of course, he couldn't get away with his thoughts or actions. Alice could see everything. Even before it happened. "That's why I've been distancing myself." Alice continued. "I didn't mean to, my love. It has nothing to do with you, either. You're as perfect as you were when I first met you. So, do not fret and think you have done something wrong because you haven't. However, I had to have you come to me before I could tell you what was going on and why I was acting the way I was. Or... well, come to us, I should say... So, we could show you how this all would work. Us, three, together." Alice's tongue darted out of her mouth as she wets her lips, a look of seduction rising behind her eyes.  "Besides, isn't it every man's fantasy to have two, beautiful women beside  him?" "Or, perhaps underneath him?" And that was the first thing (Y/N) had said during this entire conversation. Jasper would be a liar if he said  both women's words didn't go  straight to his cock, causing it to twitch against the zipper of the pants he wore.  "Come on, Jasper. Admit it. Don't lie to yourself. You've been wanting her for some time, yes? Wanting - no, craving for this for awhile. Now, is your chance. Today and every day, you can have us." Alice purred. She leaned upward, standing up on the tips of her toes as she had done earlier and her tongue comes within contact of Jasper's neck, setting soft but wet and seductive kisses over the smooth, cold surface.  Jasper grunts in reply, eyes fluttering shut as he gives a weak, timid nod. "Hm," He mumbles. "Today and everyday?" He asked, a smirk finding its way on his lips. "I can live with that, darlin'." "Heyyy." (Y/N) mewled, her bottom lip jutting out into a pout. "If she's darlin', what's going to be my pet name?" She asks, the pout only growing bigger yet both Alice and Jasper knew she wasn't truly upset by it. "Considering you just mewled like a kitten, that's what you will be. Now, kitten, why don't you and darlin' both come here and show me a good time, hm? After all, I have been wanting this for some time." Alice tssked, slapping Jasper's chest playfully as he - finally - admitted those words.  (Y/N) said nothing but watched the two with love and fond written across her face.  How did she get so lucky to be involved in this relationship?  She'd never know. Maybe, some things are better unanswered, (Y/N) thought.  She's quick to snap out of her thoughts and standing to her feet, her eyes never leave her now boyfriend and girlfriend's gazes.  (Y/N) strips down to nothing but a matching pair of panties and bra. She watches how Alice and Jasper lazily yet hungrily kiss one another.  Jasper's hands were on Alice's waist while Alice's hands were tangled in between his golden curls, tugging it every now and then as the session grew hotter and as the two grew more sexually frustrated with each other. 

(Y/N) didn't know what to do, truth be told, she didn't think this would have ever happened.  Luckily for her, Alice pulled away and shot her a lovingly glance before their own make out session could get any hotter (and before (Y/N) could get wetter, untouched). 

"C'mere, beautiful.  You're part of this, too, silly." She giggled as she taps Jasper's shoulder, telling him to get off of her with a movement of her finger.  Jasper chuckled lowly as he rolls over, undoing the belt of his jeans and zips them down as he shimmies out of both that and his shirt. "Who would you like to pleasure and please first, lovely?" Alice asked once (Y/N) sat down on the bed. Her face was still the same exact shade of red, it never seemed to vanish or go elsewhere. It seemed to be permanently there, only growing deeper and darker by the second. Both Alice and Jasper loved it. Loved having this kind of power and effect on her. It was a turn on to both vampires.  "Personally, I think you should  pleasure Jasper first." Alice turns to face Jasper who lay beside her  wearing his birthday suit, stroking his cock, eyes fluttered shut as complete bliss and satisfaction takes over. "For me, however, I am enjoying myself. I would very much rather see you two, touching." He said, opening his eyes as he glanced over at Alice and (Y/N).  "I'm happy with that." Alice giggled  as she's quick to lay upon the mountain of pillows behind her,  stripping her shirt over her head and allowing it to fall down the floor.  Oh, she's so filthy.... such an eager slut. She truly has been wanting this for some time. God only knows how long...  He says this - well, thinks it, anyhow - because the woman didn't wear a bra underneath her shirt and the moment she slides out of her skirt, Jasper notices she wasn't wearing panties either. "Touch me, please, (Y/N)." Alice moaned. She  lay back against the cushions as she spread her legs out in a starfish position, her hand resting at Jasper's thigh, fingers sneaking up and curling at his genitals, softly brushing her fingertips across his groin. Her pussy was slick with juices, (Y/N) and Jasper noticed. She was already so drenched, as was (Y/N).  Jasper's cock twitched, knowing both women were as hot and as bothered as he. "Go on, kitten. Don't be scared. I give you permission. We both do. From this moment on, you can touch us and hold us and whatever you please-" "Cause you're ours, as we are yours." Alice finished, shooting Jasper a smile before returning said smile to (Y/N). (Y/N) chewed on her bottom lip, fluttering her lashes and lids shut, she bends forward and presses her mouth on Alice's core, earning a quiet, low whine proceeding to fall from Alice's lips above. "Oh, (Y/N).... please." Alice whimpers, bucking her hips against (Y/N)'s touch. (Y/N) craved nothing more than to please both Alice and Jasper. As of this moment, however, her main focus was pleasuring Alice. All the girl wanted to do was get Alice  to cum, no matter which way it was. (Y/N) could use her fingers, her tongue or Hell, even both, she (nor Alice) didn't care as long as the short haired gal came with a cry of her name and soaked her fingers as she reached her orgasm. That is all (Y/N) wanted. She wanted to be good - be a good girl, for both significant others. Realizing both vampires were hers to love, to hold and to cherish, really just everything in between,  it sent a chill throughout her entire body and caused her cunt to tingle at the realization. The air in the room was bitter and both Alice and Jasper were cold, too. So, really, that could play a huge part together as well.  But (Y/N) knew her cunt was throbbing because of knowing they were hers, as she was theirs. Not because of their icy touches or the harsh, bitter air but because of them. They, all three of them, were together and happy. And just like when Alice found Jasper and him, finding her, (Y/N) really didn't know what happiness was until she met these two. "(Y/N), babygirl, please..." Alice's frustrated voice brings the girl back into reality, allowing her to leave her thoughts. She giggled, sending  little waves of vibrations to  shake against Alice's clit.  She pulled back, much to Alice's disappointment. "Sorry, I got lost in my head. 'M just happy is all. Can't believe this is happening." She admitted. But before Alice or Jasper could answer, (Y/N) is bending back forward, letting her head fall down and her lips capturing Alice's clit once more.   She gave Alice a few kitten licks, gentle, soft and sweet ones before slipping her tongue  in between Alice's folds, licking away as if this was her last thing she was to do on Earth. And really - if they were to die in their sleep or some random meteor hit, (Y/N)  would much  prefer dying while she's buried between Alice's legs and  her mouth would be full of Alice's pussy, her mouth full of her juices as Alice rode her high out on her face. It sounds like a perfect way to go, if she were being honest. Well, that was one option. The other idea and preference was with Alice riding her face, shifting her weight back and forth, grinding her pussy against (Y/N)'s tongue and lips while (Y/N) laid back against the bed, her legs spread in a "V" shape as Jasper slid his cock back and forth, deep inside her pussy, hitting her spot over and over again. All three of them, moaning in perfect harmony. Alice would cum over and over again, nearly drowning (Y/N)'s face  (which, (Y/N) wouldn't be upset at) with her juices as Jasper shot his load deep within her walls, filling her up with his cum. That was also a fantastic way to die. Alice, above, giggled and squirmed as (Y/N) ate her out. "Don't worry." She murmured, hand coming down to intertwine with (Y/N)'s hair as she pulled her girlfriend closer to her womanhood. "You'll have a piece of Jasper, right here, right now. Isn't that right, baby? You want to be a dear and go up behind (Y/N) as she's eating me out and fuck her tight, little, pink pussy? I can tell she needs it. Can feel her, leaving a puddle by my feet. Think - ah, fuck... (Y/N) - think she needs it. I wanna see it, too. Want to see you, fucking her as her face is full of my cunt." Jasper groaned as he fisted his cock, listening to his girlfriend speak while watching his other girl, eating his other lover out. He could have came right then and there. He was quick to get up and walk up behind (Y/N). (Y/N) was, in fact, soaked. Which was a given. It was obvious, even someone without vision could see that just by the high pitched, muffled noises she was making in the back of her throat. You could tell the poor thing needed a cock stuffed deep inside her hole, stretching her out and all. "Jasper, please, just... fuck me already!" She cried. "More than happy to." He replied. Being the fact she was so wet and aroused, the head of his cock pushed inside her, slipping in easily and comfortably. Even though, Jasper isn't (Y/N)'s first, the girl still needed to adjust to his size and the stretch that was his large and thick cock. Out of all the men she has been with (which wasn't a lot, neither. Only four or five.) Jasper was the widest and fullest. Jasper pauses, letting her adjust for a moment or two and it’s only when he hears a faint, "Go ahead, move... You can move," does Jasper push deeper, his cock sliding deeper within her walls, her juices already sticking to his cock as he slowly rocks his hips back and forth against the human. go ahead from you that he pushes deeper. You do open remarkably well for him, and although he takes his time, he’s awed by the fact that it isn’t unbearably long for either of you. You wonder if maybe it’s the fact that it’s him and you’ve done this before that makes it less stressful for you and lets you relax enough and so relatively quickly, too. While Jasper is behind, (Y/N) is stuffing her face full of Alice's pussy, and not a second later, the human girl buries her index and forefinger into her awaiting cunt. "Oh, fuck! Yes! Oh, yes. Oh." Alice chanted, her voice growing higher and higher as her hands curled at the comforter, nails digging into the fabric. "Oh, (Y/N), fuck me just like that! Fuck me, (Y/N)! Fuck me with your fingers, oh, yes. Oh, yesyesyesyes!!!" Alice squeals in delight, eyes closed as she gets closer to her orgasm. "Look at that," Jasper purred, his accent thick as he spoke. He only got like that when he, himself, was close to an orgasm. 

"My girls. My two beautiful girls. You both going to cum? You want to cum for each other and for me, don't you? Go on then. Be my good girls and cum. I'll cum with you." And just like that, both (Y/N) and Alice moaned loudly, Alice shouting her girlfriend and boyfriend's name in a pattern-like style as Jasper growled, fucking into (Y/N) so roughly the frame of the bed smacked against the wall so harshly, all three  knew it was going to leave a dent in the walls. But they couldn't care less. They were enjoying themselves way too much. (Y/N)'s moans were muffled, as she was being drowned by Alice's cum and like the good girl she, oh so badly, wanted to be - she happily swallowed every last drop that Alice squirted at her. (Y/N wanted to make her cum, sure, but didn't even think about the possibility she could make her squirt.)  

"Oh, fuck~ I'm cumming. Oh, fuck....!" And right as she was done, licking up every drop of Alice's pussy juices, her own pussy is being filled up by Jasper. This causes (Y/N) to moan again, an ear piercing scream more than a moan, actually. Which, truth be told, she was embarrassed by it - knowing other people were in the house but she tried not to think about it. All she could actually focus on was Alice and Jasper. That, and her coming down from her peak. Slowly, with a hiss leaving his lips, Jasper pulls out and plops down onto the bed, next to both of his lovely women. "That was fun." Alice said, leaning over and pressing a kiss to Jasper's cheek.  "So, you aren't mad at me?" She asked, pulling back as she reached over to pull (Y/N) into her arms. 

"Not at all, darlin'. I love you. You know that. Nothing in the world could ever replace or erase my feelings towards you, Alice. It was... unexpected, sure, but I'm happy." Jasper looked over at Alice and (Y/N). "I'm happy with the both of you. And, (Y/N)? I love you, too. I promise, I didn't forget about ya." He said with a low laugh. He kisses Alice first before bending forward and kissing (Y/N) sweetly. "I only have one question left... how does she know about us? About what we are?" "It's kind of obvious." (Y/N) replied, looking up from playing with Alice's fingers and shot Jasper a sheepish smile. "Like Bella did beforehand, I put everything together and it made a lot of sense the more and more I looked at it. That and Emmett told me. Well, I take that back... he didn't exactly tell me but I knew something was odd when I saw you lot at the cafeteria and saw him, carrying a random plastic baggie of eggs. It isn't the most human thing in the world to eat like that. 

Especially with them, being spoiled and rotten, which they were, by the way. You all tried to be secretive and hide who you were but.. you didn't do it exactly well. And again, I did what Bella did. I straight up asked her too if you guys were what I thought you were.  And having known Bella since we were kids, I could tell when she was telling the truth and when she was lying." (Y/N) took a deep breath before continuing. "Plus, I knew things were, uh... supernatural, I guess is the right word here.... anyways, it was when Bella drastically changed. Not only in personality but in everything else. So, I just... kind of figured it out and placed everything together. And like I said, Emmett and Bella practically told me." "Edward truly married a girl who made an oath to keep us and what we are a secret yet easily announced what we are to an old and dear friend... No offense, (Y/N)." "None taken." "I still say I should've snapped her neck at her birthday party then." "Jasper!" "Wait, you tried to do what?" "Anyways, all that matters is we have each other and there isn't any secrets between us." He said, quick to change the subject. "I love you, gals." Speechless and flabbergasted, (Y/N) says she loved him too, Alice following along. Sure, they were vampires and they could easily kill her at any given moment but (Y/N) trusted them. Not only them but the Cullen's as well. (Although, Jasper and Alice, of course, were her favorites out of the bunch.) (Y/N) was now happily part of the Cullen's and was dating the two most wonderful people in the  world and she couldn't want it any other way. (Of course... she did want to be like them. But that's a conversation for another day.) (Little did (Y/N) know, however, Alice already had seen the both of them - her and Jasper - taking turns and turning her into one of them. For obvious reasons, she never brought this up, though. Alice was just happy to know in the end, they'd all be together, forever.)

[fearlessinger]

So, a little less than a month year ago (this is all my fault, I take sole responsibility for this loooong delay), I got roped into reading The Trials Of Apollo by @flightfoot’s amazing meta. I loved it more than I could have ever anticipated, and I’ve been gushing about it non stop to her on discord. We had a lot of fun reviewing the series and taking it apart to overanalyze bit by bit, marveling at the way it keeps growing layers and dimensions the longer one looks at it. Finally, we took out a google doc. The following is result n.3 of our combined excited ramblings, and… well it sort of turned into a full on dissertation. Whoops.

“You must make your own choice.”

Reconstructing Apollo’s Journey within Riordan’s Narrative

Much too self aware to be egotistical

Not the kind of feelings that gods have

You have heard of imposter syndrome?

As if you could have immortality or meaning, but not both (read on ao3)

By the start of book 2, Apollo is back to his routine of pretending to be a much bigger asshole than he actually is. Back to feigning incompetence too.  

My children Kayla and Austin explained to me this appalling downside to mortal tools that’s called ‘requiring maintenance’, he proclaims, as if we didn’t see him restring and retune a guitar just last book. Funnily enough, the issue of tool maintenance never comes up again after Apollo has gotten the satisfaction of making this point, much in the same way he never again shows the same unfamiliarity with mortal food and everyday appliances he did on his first day at Camp Half Blood.

“I never asked what kind of trials the petitioners went through,” is the explanation he offers for why he can’t remember the proper way of consulting his oracle. He’d rather let Emmie and Jo think he never cared to learn, than admit his memory is full of holes and he keeps forgetting about things that he did, in fact, know. 

Gods don’t struggle. Only the weak do. And nobody expects anything from cruel, stupid fools. Stupid fools will never run the risk of letting anyone down.

Just yesterday, I had toyed with the idea of leaving Calypso behind to the blemmyae when she was wounded. I’d like to say that wasn’t a serious thought, but it had been, however briefly. Now Calypso refused to leave Meg, whom she barely knew. It was almost enough to make me question whether I was a good person. (I stress the word almost.) (TDP 155)

You see, he tells us, he reassures himself with stunning brazenness: Calypso is a good person, completely unlike me, because she does exactly what I’ve been doing from the moment this story began. 

But in spite of his efforts, he doesn’t quite manage to patch up the crack that has formed in the walls of his fortress. His real feelings keep leaking out. 

Now that he’s started doing it out loud, and in earnest, rather than just inside his head where he knew it was pretense, and nobody could protest it, he just cannot stop calling all of these people friends.

And ridiculously, impossibly, people do not contradict him. Even worse: they seem to think his friendship is actually worth something. 

‘You,’ I snarled. It was difficult to sound menacing while bobbing up and down in a net. 

‘Hello, Apollo.’ Britomartis, the goddess of nets, smiled coyly. ‘I hear you’re human now. This is going to be fun.’ (TDP 79) 

It cannot be overstated how much Britomartis risked by giving sanctuary and aid to Apollo. The Lord of Olympus expressly forbade any kind of interference, but Britomartis did in fact interfere, and with only the flimsiest of pretenses as cover. 

Granted, being a minor goddess, and barely even connected to Apollo, almost certainly played to her advantage. By all appearances, Britomartis should have no reason to want to help him, and even if she did, what is the help of a small, inconsequential, almost entirely forgotten deity like her even worth? Zeus thinks so little of minor deities, he barely even remembers they exist most of the time. Ironically, their lower status grants them more liberty of movement than most major gods, and especially the 12 Olympians, can enjoy. 

Still, Britomartis’ transgression could have cost her everything. The gods are always watching. They are all ready to snitch on one another at a moment’s notice. And all of their eyes are on Apollo now.

So, to the benefit of their Olympian audience, Britomartis makes a show of threatening Apollo and his mortal companions’ lives multiple times. She gives Apollo a difficult, dangerous quest, for what they both agree and make a point to underscore is an entirely selfish reason. All she cares about are her griffins, you see. And her house. Definitely not the people who live in it. The fact that this all worked out to our heroes’ benefit in the end is obviously a fortunate accident rather than the precise result she was aiming for.

It’s so easy to believe it, because it meets our expectations of what a god is, how a god thinks and behaves. But Apollo knows the truth. He understands that Britomartis is the one responsible for the miracle that allowed them to escape the zoo. 

Oh, but she didn’t do it out of generosity, she explains, she did it because Calypso is more useful to her with magic than without! 

Apollo isn’t fazed by her excuses. He may not have been sure at first, but by that point he knows what she’s doing. 

It’s the exact same thing he always does. 

At the end of the book, he will comment that he can’t expect her to show him any more of her favor, finally calling what she did with its proper name. But he can't say thank you. He can’t even really show her his gratitude. That would be admitting to what she's done in front of the whole Olympian council. That would be admitting to what he and Britomartis are, too, and neither of them can have that.

Because as ridiculous as the idea might have seemed at first, and as much as they both insist otherwise, the truth is, Britomartis and Apollo are friends. 

But friendship is not something that gods do. Wanting to get into someone’s pants, yes, that is an emotion the gods are allowed to have. Wanting to mess with someone’s head or feelings. Wanting to claim humanity’s achievements as your own. Wanting a mortal to run an errand for you because you’d rather risk their lives than wasting the tiniest amount of your infinite supply of time. All of these things, the gods have a right to.

But wanting to help a friend in need, without asking for anything in return? No. That’s not how it works in the realm of the gods, within the confines of the little authoritarian dictatorship they call family. Love is always conditional. It is always revocable. Love is power, that you can hold over someone or that someone can hold over you. 

This extremely transactional view of love is enforced from the top all the way down to the demigods, whom the gods often won’t even recognize as their own unless they perform some great feat, leading the children to attempt incredibly dangerous stunts just to get acknowledged.

Friendship is for those who have to beg for acknowledgement. Friendship is for the weak, needy mortals who get attached, who are afraid of being alone. But the gods? The gods don’t need anything. The gods are above. 

All of them except for Apollo, who’s always been desperate to love freely, gratuitously, and unable to hide it as well and thoroughly as everybody else does. Who was raised to perceive his inability to master detachment, the ease with which he forms connections, the fierceness with which he treasures them, as a fatal flaw of his character, and who still, in spite of that, yearns for what he believes he shouldn’t allow himself to have. 

A gladiator with a trident rudely interrupted my song. I smashed him in the face with my combat ukulele. Then I used the elephant’s foreleg to climb onto her back. I hadn’t practised that technique since the storm god Indra took me on a late-night road trip in search of vindaloo, but I guess riding an elephant is one of those skills you never forget. (TDP 241)

“Even in ancient times, I had been woefully ignorant of anything below the Saharan Desert,” Apollo deplores. “We Olympians tended to stay in our own neighbourhood around the Mediterranean.” It’s clear he has never been a fan of this policy. He calls it “terribly cliquish.” 

In spite of this, he still was on a friendly enough basis with gods from other pantheons that they used to casually hang out. 

But all of these stories are set in the ancient past, and most of them star deities whose prominence has faded considerably, if not completely. Even immortals can’t take eternity for granted.

And Olympus’ isolationism only worsened with time. 

‘You fight for money?’ 

‘To pay my tuition,’ Jamie agreed. ‘I did not know what I was getting into with this emperor person.’ 

‘And yet you survived,’ I noted. ‘You can see that the world is, uh, much stranger than most mortals realize. You, Jamie, must have lots of ìgboyà.’ 

His laughter was deep and rich. ‘Very good. My name is actually Olujime. For most Americans, Jamie is easier.’ 

I understood. I’d only been a mortal for a few months and I was getting very tired of spelling out Papadopoulos. 

‘Well, Olujime,’ I said, ‘I’m pleased to meet you. We are lucky to have such a defender.’ 

‘Mmm.’ Olujime nodded gravely. ‘If we survive tomorrow, perhaps the Waystation can use an accountant. A piece of real estate so complex … there are many tax implications.’ 

‘Uh –’ 

‘I am joking,’ he offered. ‘My girlfriend says I joke too much.’ 

‘Uh.’ This time I sounded like I’d been kicked in the gut. ‘Your girlfriend. Yes. Will you excuse me?’ (TDP 288-289) 

As soon as he stops trying and failing to impress, Apollo immediately finds the right things to say to connect with Jamie, to the point that Jamie chooses to trust him with his real name and starts opening up about his life. 

Unfortunately, it turns out Olujime has a girlfriend, and Apollo, ever the drama queen, immediately takes this as his cue to flee like a heartbroken Jane Austen heroine. It does not seem to occur to him that what he took as a rejection was actually the tentative start of a friendship. 

But Apollo can’t bring himself to meet Olujime’s openness with any of his own. He can’t bear to bare his metaphorical soul to any of these people and watch them recoil from him, as he’s sure they would. Even after all the time they spent together, he keeps acting like he can’t stand Calypso, mock threatening to make Leo into a constellation as soon as he gets back the power to do so. He still half heartedly tries to pretend he’s annoyed by Meg, even, despite the fact that absolutely nobody at this point is buying it anymore. He expects that they will get tired of putting up with him. That they will abandon him. He doesn’t know what to do with himself when it becomes clear that they won’t. 

It was much easier to let himself be loved by Commodus, safe in the knowledge that they deserved each other, both cut from the same cloth, the exact same brand of ugly and terrible. 

Not that Apollo was ever honest with Commodus either. He spent their whole time together swallowing his distaste for the man’s actions, pushing down his misgivings. He made the young emperor a promise he already knew, deep in his heart, he would not be able to keep.

Even after all the pain and heartbreak, Apollo still pursues romantic relationships. He does not ever pursue friendship, even though he craves it just as much, if not more. He knows he can pay for the first. He doesn’t think he has anything of value to give in exchange for the second. 

You don’t have to bare your soul to someone if your objective is to just spend a fun couple of nights with them. You just need to be beautiful and good in bed. And Apollo used to be beautiful enough that his good looks made up for the lack of everything else. He’d come to rely on them almost entirely as he did his very best to downplay his own intelligence and wit and overall personality. He spent so long playing the part of the handsome idiot, it seems like he’d forgotten he could actually be charming, for real.

But Britomartis met him on his terms. She responded to his fake-flirting by fake-flirting back. Their whole relationship is play acting: he pretends to be pursuing her, she pretends to be stringing him along for fun in return. And there’s no doubt they both enjoy it, to a degree. Their banter is not fake. But it is a facade. It’s far more calculated than it appears. Leo, with his quick mind and keen understanding of people, almost seems to sense this as he observes the metaphorical Greek fireball being tossed back and forth between them, but he’s missing too much context to really understand what he’s looking at, much like we also were at the time. 

The truth is, neither Apollo nor Britomartis care about kisses. It’s fragile, this thing that they have between them. They don’t put a name to it. They don’t allow themselves to discuss it openly. 

“In case you’ve forgotten,” Apollo says, dropping the act for just one moment, “I am no longer immortal, so please, no Burmese tiger pits.” He trusts her enough to ask sincerely. He doesn’t trust her enough to feel like he does not have to ask. He can’t be sure of her intentions. He can’t even be sure of her motives. He thinks she must have intervened only because his sister ordered her to, not because she actually cares. She does nothing to dispel that notion. He calls her his sister’s “minion”. She acts offended. But in truth, that’s what she is. She can’t be Artemis’ friend either. She can only be her subordinate. 

Gods have servants. They have followers. They have enemies. They don’t have friends. 

[Agamethus] did not have a face, but his posture seemed forlorn. The blood from his severed neck trickled sluggishly down his tunic. I imagined Trophonius’s head transposed on his body – my son’s agonized voice crying to the heavens, Take me instead! Save him, Father, please! 

This blended with the face of Commodus, staring at me, wounded and betrayed as his carotid pulse hammered against my hands. You. Blessed. Me. 

I sobbed and hugged the commode – the only thing in the universe that wasn’t spinning. Was there anyone I hadn’t betrayed and disappointed? Any relationship I hadn’t destroyed? (TDP 183)

Self pity is something Apollo is very well acquainted with. Nobody’s gonna cry for him, after all, so he might as well do it himself. And he does. He does love wallowing. He’ll happily tell anyone who’ll listen how hard and cruel and unfair his life is... so long as there’s no chance of being taken seriously. 

Yet when he does it for real, and not for show, he does it behind closed doors, in the drab solitude of a toilet cubicle, where he doesn’t expect to be found.

But someone does find him this time.

Josephine pulled a cloth from her overall pocket. She wet it at the sink and began cleaning the sides of my face, getting the places I’d missed. She treated me as if I were her seven-year-old Georgie, or one of her mechanical crossbow turrets – something precious but high maintenance. ‘I’m not going to judge you, Sunny. I’ve done a few bad things in my time.’ (TDP 184) 

It’s an odd, terrible, wonderful thing, to receive compassion and understanding when you think you least deserve it, long after you’d lost any hope that you could ever have it. 

There is a world, here on the ground, far away from Olympus, far below the cold, unforgiving clouds, in which people are free to admit to their weakness, because they know, they trust, that they will be met with sympathy, rather than reproach. That their vulnerability won’t be exploited. That they will be cared for.

“Nets can be traps,” Jo says. “But they can also be safety nets.” 

This is not what Apollo’s life experience has taught him. He does not understand. 

And yet, maybe, he does. He keeps thinking about it. He just doesn’t know how to make himself believe it.

‘For those of you who don’t know me,’ she began, ‘my name is Hemithea. Jo and I run the Waystation. We never turn away people who are in trouble, even former enemies.’ She nodded to Lityerses. ‘We attract outcasts here – orphans and runaways, folks who’ve been abused, mistreated or misled, folks who just don’t feel at home anywhere else.’ 

She gestured to the barrelled ceiling, where the stained glass fractured sunlight into green and gold geometry. ‘Britomartis, the Lady of Nets, helped build this place.’ 

‘A safety net for your friends,’ I blurted, remembering what Josephine had told me. ‘But a trap for your enemies.’ 

Now I was the centre of attention. Once again, I didn’t like it. (I was really starting to worry about myself.) My face burned from the sudden flush of blood to my cheeks. 

‘Sorry,’ I told Emmie. (TDP 277-278)

Apollo has gotten so used to lying, at this point he lies by habit, out of reflex, without even having to consciously will himself to do it. He lies about himself most of all, and most of those lies are deliberate – to an infuriating degree, especially in retrospect. But he lies about other people too, and these lies are nowhere near as intentional. A lot of the time, he doesn’t even realize he’s telling them. 

In spite of his continued attempts to pretend otherwise, Apollo is very good at reading people. Except in one glaring respect. He has no idea how unreliable his narration can be, when it comes to other people’s opinion of him. 

He goes on and on, at the start of this journey, and still to an extent at least up until the end of book 3, about how he totally expects people’s love and admiration. About how he’s certain to have them by default. He fakes surprise every time it becomes clear that that is not, in fact, the reality of things. It’s one of his favourite recurring gags, actually: him doing – or imagining himself doing – some huge heroic gesture, but also, on the opposite end of the comedic spectrum, something really barely notable that could only look praiseworthy to an airhead like the idiot he role plays as, and readying himself for applause that never comes. 

But the truth is, he does not ever expect applause. Quite the opposite, in fact. He expects anger. He expects reproach. Ridicule, even. At best, he expects grudging tolerance. It’s very hard, all throughout the first 3 books, to get an accurate read of how everybody else really feels about him, because we only have his account of it, and he always expects the worst. 

In fairness, he’s not entirely off the mark there. He has a lot to feel guilty about. But he doesn’t stop at that. He feels guilty for things that he had no control over and objectively bears no blame for. He feels guilty for things that quite frankly aren’t a big enough deal to warrant any assignment of blame. He feels guilty for things that weren’t bad at all and he should maybe, actually, rather take pride in.

“I don’t blame you,” he tells Meg, every time he gently corrects her on something, every time she makes excuses for her stepfather, every time she looks like she wants to apologize. He knows that she’s been taught, she’s been made to feel like she’s responsible for everything, even and especially that which isn’t her fault. He gives her the reassurance and absolution that nobody ever gave him. And why should anyone have? 

He was a god. Of course he was responsible.

Apollo loves to act shocked that he didn’t get the starstruck reaction he pretends to feel entitled to, but his shock at finding himself on the receiving end of a friendly overture, a friendly sentiment… that is not fake. That is always genuine. And it is usually followed by him telling us, telling himself, that that kindness is much more a reflection of the people who bestowed it on him than of what he actually deserves. People are being too kind to him. They are mistaken. They just don’t know him well enough to realize what the truth is. 

And the truth, according to Apollo, is that he doesn’t even deserve the benefit of the doubt.

So when he meets Emmie, the first person who isn’t actively working with his enemies to treat him with some measure of actual hostility (and no, Calypso doesn’t count, because despite how convincing his reasoning sounds, she never quite seems to hate his guts as much as he insists she should), he takes it as proof of everything that he feels is true about himself.

Of course Hemithea, a woman whose last significant interaction with him was to thank him for saving her life, detests him now. Why shouldn’t she? Clearly, his gift meant nothing to her. In fact, she threw it away. This only confirms what Apollo already, deep down, believes. Even when he does a good thing, somehow, he manages to do it wrong. 

He’s so busy berating himself for his own perceived worthlessness, he completely misses that Emmie’s trapped in a spiral of guilt and self loathing of her own. 

Because the truth is, his gift meant everything to her. His gift gave her everything she has now. 

If not for Apollo, Emmie would be long dead, a broken corpse eaten by the fish below the cliff she jumped from to escape the wrath of her abusive father. It’s thanks to Apollo that she lived long enough to meet Jo. It’s thanks to Apollo that she found something more meaningful to her than even the blessing of a god. 

To give up that blessing... it felt right, but it also felt like a betrayal. 

This is the reason why Emmie is so closed off with Apollo. She feels guilty. She expects him to be angry. She expects that he will want to punish her. She’s afraid that, maybe, he already has. After all, it’s his oracle that snatched away their daughter’s sanity. It’s his enemy that’s taken Georgina. 

Even though she doesn’t dare voice it, deep down, Emmie can’t help but feel that, maybe, this is all her fault. Wouldn’t this be a fitting punishment, for turning down the blessing of a god? And not just any blessing. A blessing freely given, without asking for anything in return. Like all of Apollo’s gifts, irrevocable.

By renouncing to serve Artemis, Josephine broke her contract with the goddess and lost her eternal life. But Emmie’s immortality did not belong to Artemis. It was entirely hers. 

And it still could be. She still could have it. But she doesn’t. 

Because she didn’t want just a lifetime with Jo. She wanted the two of them to grow old together. She couldn't bear the thought of seeing her love die, and then, having to keep living without her. 

Josephine shrugged. ‘It’s okay if you don’t get it. But I want you to know, Emmie didn’t give up your divine gift lightly. After sixty-odd years together with the Hunters, we discovered something. It’s not how long you live that matters. It’s what you live for.’ 

I frowned. That was a very ungodly way of thinking – as if you could have immortality or meaning, but not both. 

‘Why are you telling me this?’ I asked. ‘Are you trying to convince me that I should stay as … as this abomination?’ I gestured at my pathetic mortal body. 

‘I’m not telling you what to do. But those folks out there – Leo, Calypso, Meg – they need you. They’re counting on you. Emmie and I are, too, to get our daughter back. You don’t have to be a god. Just do your best for your friends.’ (TDP 186)

Unlike Emmie, Jo is not blinded by guilt. As understandable as wariness toward the gods always is, she knows they have reason to expect better of Apollo. They have known his kindness firsthand. In their house, this refuge for outcasts that they built together, following no vision, no plan other than their own, they still call him Lord. The kindness and respect that Jo shows him, the trust that she’s willing to extend him, tell a story all by themselves. There’s no way for even him to pass them off as a mistake. 

Jo sees that Apollo doesn't “get it”. But she sees, too, that more than angry, he’s hurt.  

“I want you to know,” she says, “Emmie didn’t give up your divine gift lightly.” 

It's true. Even though she is sure of her choice, even though she knows she will never regret it, Emmie can't quite forgive herself for it. We aren’t made privy to her struggle explicitly, but it’s not hard to imagine what her thought process must have been like. To imagine all the good she could have continued doing even after Jo’s passing, for the rest of her eternal life. She gave that up. She feels like it's only a matter of time before she gets her deserved comeuppance. 

“Was it payback?” she asks him, finally. The look on his face is all the answer she needs.

“I believe you,” she tells him. Not necessarily about him being sorry. Not necessarily about him not resenting her either. But she believes now, that he’s human enough to have the same limitations as any of them. Gods, after all, are people too.

‘[...] You want to know what real exile feels like? This is my third time as a mortal. Stripped of my powers. Stripped of immortality. I can die, Calypso.’ 

‘Me too,’ she snapped. 

‘Yes, but you chose to go with Leo. You gave up your immortality for love! You’re as bad as Hemithea!’ 

I hadn’t realized how much anger was behind that last shot until I let it fly. My voice resounded across the parking lot. Somewhere in the zoo, a rudely awakened tropical bird squawked in protest. (TDP 113-114)

The thing is, though, Apollo IS angry at Emmie. That anger, that he keeps so tightly in check most of the time, we see a glimpse of it here, before he quickly reins it back in. 

How could Emmie, how dare Emmie voluntarily give up the thing that he’s so desperate to get back for himself? No, Jo is right, he doesn’t get it. 

And yet, he knows his anger is irrational. He knows it’s projection. This is not the choice he would ever have made. He was born a god. He has never wished to be anything other than what he is. But he isn’t Emmie. And Emmie had a right to make her own choice. Even if it’s the one Apollo thinks is wrong. That’s the gift he gave her. No conditions. No strings attached. So she could do with it whatever she wanted.

But why does she get a choice, why does everybody get a choice, and he doesn’t?

‘If only someone could control wind spirits and carry us over the fence.’ 

‘If only some god could teleport us,’ she countered. ‘Or snap his fingers and bring the griffins to us.’ 

I folded my arms. ‘I’m beginning to remember why we exiled you on that island for three thousand years.’ 

‘Three thousand, five hundred and sixty-eight. It would have been longer if you’d had your way.’ 

I hadn’t meant to start this argument again, but Calypso made it so easy. ‘You were on a tropical island with pristine beaches, aerial servants and a lavishly appointed cave.’ 

‘Which made Ogygia not a prison?’ 

I was tempted to blast her with godly power, except … well, I didn’t have any. 

‘You don’t miss your island, then?’ 

She blinked as if I’d thrown sand in her face. ‘I – no. That’s not the point. I was kept in exile. I had no one –’ (TDP 113-114)

The truth is, it’s not really Emmie, and it’s not Calypso either, that Apollo’s angry at. 

But still, despite everything, he wants to go back to his home above the clouds. He misses his prison. It was a comfortable one. Cozy. He’d gotten so used to it, he barely even noticed the gilded bars of the cage anymore. 

Because what’s the alternative? To stay mortal? To stay powerless? What good would that do him? What good would that do anyone? 

And yet, Apollo’s been thinking about it. At the very least, he can’t avoid acknowledging that it’s a possibility. 

“You don’t have to be a god,” Jo told him. “Just do your best for your friends.” 

But to be mortal. To be powerless. To be content with doing ordinary work, when he once had the ability to make miracles happen. Is that really the best Apollo can do?

“It’s not how long you live that matters,” Jo told him. “It’s what you live for.” And Apollo does understand. But he doesn't agree. 

“As if you could have immortality or meaning,” he scoffs, “but not both.” 

Apollo wants both. 

And why can’t he? Why shouldn’t he? 

Gods are people, yes, but not all people are the same. This is who Apollo is. He wants both. 

I stared at the arched brickwork on the ceiling, wondering if and when it would collapse on my head. ‘I miss my bed at Camp Half-Blood.’ 

‘This place ain’t so bad,’ Leo said. ‘When I was between foster homes, I slept under the Main Street Bridge in Houston for like a month.’ 

I glanced over. He did look quite comfortable in his nest of hay and blankets. (TDP 92)

This is a story about power and privilege. Apollo was born into them. As nightmarish as his life was, in his gilded cage on top of the world, this fact is undeniable, and he is well aware of it. 

“The rich and the gods,” he says, “[are] always the last to suffer.” 

In absolutely every possible way, to stay human, with nothing more to his name than a New York State junior driver’s licence, would be a sucky choice. 

But it would be a freeing choice too. 

Lester simply doesn’t have the responsibility Apollo does. He doesn’t have the power to make Apollo’s mistakes. He doesn’t have the power to fix them either. He might die, yes. But he’d die a hero’s death. He’d die sacrificing everything for a just cause. If he gets lucky, and his death is dramatic enough, someone might even write a ballad or two about it afterwards. He’d die, giving himself the illusion of having spared lives. 

And then people will keep dying. People that, as a god, he could have saved with the blink of an eye.

In absolutely every possible way, to stay human would be the easy choice. The cowardly one. 

And Apollo, despite what he keeps telling us, what he keeps telling himself, is tired of cowering.

Also? He really, really does not want to die. 

Dead people don’t get second chances. They can’t earn redemption. They can’t meet new irritating and weird and wonderful people to fall in love with. They can’t be of use to anyone anymore. And even though Apollo is certain, at this point, that he can’t, that he doesn’t deserve, to have any of these things, somewhere deep in his heart he still desperately longs for them. He does want a second chance. He does want redemption. He doesn’t just want to be loved, he wants to love. He wants to make a difference.

“Heroes have to be ready to sacrifice themselves,” Meg will tell him, trying to console him after the loss of Jason. Apollo doesn’t like her definition of heroism. There is nothing heroic in throwing your life away. Not unless it makes a real difference. To be a hero is not about self sacrifice. To be a hero is, should be, about making a difference.

And Jo is right. You don’t have to be a god, to be able to make a difference. 

‘You’ve built something good here, Hemithea,’ I said. ‘Commodus could not destroy it. You’ll restore what you’ve lost. I envy you.’ 

She managed a faint smile. ‘I never thought I’d hear those words from you, Lord Apollo.’ (TDP 384)

It’s an incredible thing, to receive compassion and understanding when you think you least deserve it, long after you’d lost any hope that you could have it. 

Apollo has no idea how much Emmie needed to hear him say that, but he understands enough, now, to know that she cares what he thinks of her choice. So he tells her. He gives her his blessing one more time, because it's the right thing to do. Because against his better judgement, against everything that his life in his luxury jail above the clouds has taught him, he can’t help wanting to be her friend. 

Emmie does not thank him, but she calls him “Lord Apollo” again. Not out of a sense of duty or obligation. She knows, now, how human he is. She uses the most respectful manner of address, one more time, out of simple, heartfelt respect. 

And he, who just cannot ever believe people might actually, for real, think highly of him, is a bit put off by it. He misses a lot of things from his former life. He does not miss the pedestal at all. 

In the end, what really, definitively puts things right between the two of them is Emmie’s invite to come peel carrots for dinner with all the people below. That’s what Apollo needed to hear. That he, too, can belong with the rest of them. 

“I envy you,” he tells Emmie. She built something good that cannot be destroyed. He wishes he could say the same.

And yet, despite all his failures, people keep putting their trust in him. People are counting on him.

We see all of it through Apollo’s eyes, so, as always, it’s colored by how useless, how worthless his efforts feel to him almost all the time. Because he keeps comparing them to the ease of having the power of miracles at his fingertips, but also, even more than that, because this is how he’s used to thinking of himself, deep down, even as he keeps refusing to admit it. Useless. Worthless. Because the truth is, even when he really did have the power of miracles at his fingertips, he would not, he could not use it. 

“Leo and Calypso seemed to think I could summon godly bursts of awesomeness anytime I wanted,” he says, miffed, before trying and failing to brute force a locked door open. But that’s obviously not how it works. It can’t be. Even though it keeps happening. Not all the time, no... but often enough. Often enough for Leo and Calypso, who have spent almost two months with him at this point, to notice. 

“Be more goddy,” Meg encourages him, again in front of a door that he struggles to open. A door he eventually does manage to break down, thanks to the expertise that he stubbornly keeps refusing to admit he’s acquired the long, hard, regular way, and that has only ever failed him because he keeps second guessing himself. 

But it can’t be that simple. It can’t. “If I could be more goddy,” Apollo exclaims, frustrated, “I wouldn’t be here!”

It can’t be that simple.

Can it? 

Apollo loves complaining about his companions, but in between the complaints, he never fails to acknowledge their skills and achievements. He always makes sure we note them too. 

His skills though? His achievements? He’d rather not think about them. He’d rather we don’t think about them too much either. He alternates between glossing over them as if they never existed and making such a big deal of them that we are forced to roll our eyes at him. 

I almost missed that shot, is how he announces his success. I gave away our position, he says after saving himself and Calypso from capture. “Which part?” he responds to Leo telling him “nice work” for having dispatched Commodus’ serpentine sewer guardian. “The drowning? The screaming?”

The only thing scarier than being useless is discovering that you aren’t. Apollo is terrified of admitting that he is capable. That he is powerful. That he is good. That he, too, can make his own choices. He is terrified that people will start looking to him for solutions again. That they will, once again, start trusting him not to let them down. 

But the thing is, they already do.

‘Calypso, hold this!’ I tossed her the Tots and unslung my bow. I nocked an arrow. 

Once, such a shot would’ve been child’s play for me. Now it was nearly impossible: shooting from a moving train, aiming for a point where the focused impact of an arrow would have the maximum chance of triggering the switch. 

I thought of my daughter Kayla back at Camp Half-Blood. I imagined her calm voice as she coached me through the frustrations of mortal archery. I remembered the other campers’ encouragement the day on the beach when I’d made a shot that brought down the Colossus of Nero. 

I fired. The arrow slammed into the lever and forced it backwards. (TDP 139)

Trust is a powerful thing. Much like a net, it can be a trap. It can be the thing that drags you down into the murky depths and drowns you. 

But it can also be the thing that lifts you up.

I remembered the other campers’ encouragement when I’d made a shot that brought down the Colossus of Nero, Apollo says, allowing himself to acknowledge, in this moment of need, what he hadn’t at the end of last book, and offering us a rare unobscured glimpse at the truth. The winning shot that HE had made, no convenient last minute stroke of luck required. The other campers who were there, not jeering at him, but cheering him on. 

“You actually trust Lit?” Meg asks, as she tries to puzzle the same problem Apollo himself is struggling with. “I can’t be sure,” he replies. “But I think we must try. We only fail when we stop trying.” 

How presumptuous of Apollo, who keeps offering his trust to people, to think himself above receiving any in return. That’s not how it works, here on the ground, a little insignificant speck among so many others. People, unlike gods, help one another.

“Just do your best,” Jo told him. It doesn’t have to be complicated. There’s no need to overthink it. “Just do your best for your friends.”

‘Commodus.’ I drew myself up to my full, not-very-impressive height. ‘This is the only deal. You will let your hostages go. You will leave here empty-handed and never return.’ 

The emperor laughed. ‘That would sound more intimidating coming from a god, not a zitty adolescent.’ 

His Germani were well-trained to stay impassive, but they betrayed scornful smirks. They didn’t fear me. Right now, that was fine. 

‘I am still Apollo.’ I spread my arms. ‘Last chance to leave of your own accord.’ 

I detected a flicker of doubt in the emperor’s eyes. ‘What will you do – kill me? Unlike you, Lester, I am immortal. I cannot die.’ 

‘I don’t need to kill you.’ I stepped forward to the edge of the dining table. ‘Look at me closely. Don’t you recognize my divine nature, old friend?’ 

Commodus hissed. ‘I recognize the betrayer who strangled me in my bath. I recognize the so-called god who promised me blessings and then deserted me!’ His voice frayed with pain, which he tried to conceal behind an arrogant sneer. ‘All I see is a flabby teenager with a bad complexion. You also need a haircut.’ 

‘My friends,’ I told the others, ‘I want you to avert your eyes. I am about to reveal my true godly form.’ 

Not being fools, Leo and Emmie shut their eyes tight. Emmie covered Georgina’s face with her hand. I hoped my friends on my side of the dining table would also listen. I had to believe that they trusted me, despite my failings, despite the way I looked. (TDP 370-371)

Gods are powered by belief. 

It’s in this moment, bruised and dirty and as puny as it gets, standing in front of the man he’d so desperately wanted to save, the man he’d so desperately wished and always failed to emulate, the man he eventually determined had to be stopped and personally took the responsibility to execute, that Apollo finally recognizes the two of them are nothing alike. 

He calls Commodus “friend” one last time, knowing, and finally accepting, that Commodus won’t take this last chance that Apollo is offering him, just like he wouldn’t take all of the chances that Apollo had offered him before. That Commodus will never be the person Apollo wanted so badly to believe he could be. “I had survived,” Apollo says, “a journey he would never dare take.” 

It’s in this moment, as his friends put their lives in his hands, choosing to believe in his impossible promise despite everything, that Apollo, for the first time in what feels like forever, believes in himself.

To be mortal, with no superpowers. To do the extraordinarily important ordinary work of every day. There is meaning in that, and strength, and dignity too. 

But it’s not the best Apollo can do. 

This is.

My body superheated, every particle igniting in a chain reaction. Like the world’s most powerful flashbulb, I blasted the room with radiance. I became pure light. 

It lasted only a microsecond. Then the screaming began. (TDP 372)

The only thing scarier than being helpless is discovering that you aren’t. And Apollo is scared out of his mind. 

[the-witches-you-couldnt-burn]

When it all falls down

Hi guys! I was meant to post this earlier but life happens :(

I have so many fic ideas but not enough time to write & post them. The completion of this fic will be my priority tho!

(Edit) previously named ‘Life as a pawn within the Devil’s deal’

Ao3

Story Masterlist

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CHAPTER THREE: Buried alive

Warnings: injuries, sexism, pre-panic attack symptoms, torture (not explicit) and mentions of child birth (and death caused from it), forced pregnancy & imprisonment.

The haunting voice of the king cut through the foreboding silence that coated the room. It bounced off of the decrepit stone pillars, and the ceiling crumpled under the reverberation.

Lady Talia dragged her towards the throne, her body screaming to get far away from this man. Marinette was pushed forward, forced to kneel before ‘her King’. His throne was made out of a rusted iron and withered thorns peaked through its cracks. The king, although hidden from the world, was adorned in every finery known to man. A deep emerald green tunic and pants were joined by a solid gold belt. Gemstones lined the clasps of his cape, connected by three gold chains of differing lengths. The crown that graced his salt & pepper coloured hair consisted of polished obsidian jewels embedded into the golden spires.

Mari’s eyebrows furrowed. She was taught that each of the royal family were only garbed in opals & obsidian (as they were the family’s signature gems) plus their birth jewel. But his majesty seemed to be wearing more jewels then she could name, none seemed more important than the rest.

“So this is the one you chose as Damian’s promised?” He glared down at her. The girl kneeling before him had nothing special about her in appearance other than expensive clothing. What enraged him was that she kept her head high, but her eyes never met his, they were locked on the wall behind him. His frown deepened, his wrinkled skin pulled and folded; suggesting that a frown was a popular expression he wore. “She doesn’t look like much.” His toxic green eyes shifted to his daughter, “Are you sure you got the correct girl?”

“Yes father I have not failed you. This is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, future head of the Miraculous Order. She is their best warrior and will be an asset to the continuation of our bloodline.”

The Mistress’ nails dug into the girl’s shoulder, the pinpricking pain caused her to grimace. She stifled any thought of correcting the hag. It had been years since she took guardian ship of the Order, or in their terms; that she actually the current head. Some of her friends even had dubbed her as their ‘princess’ and that spread around the camp like a wildfire.

His burning gaze scanned every inch of her face before his eyes traveled down her body. Under his stare she felt violated, his contempt and lechery felt like hands running over her skin. “Her only duty is to produce strong heirs, don’t let her be deluded into becoming a hero.”

He waited for either woman to challenge him, it would be a fruitless venture but some still tried. If only his wife had produced a suitable heir, but Melisande had given him a daughter instead. That wretched woman had died during Talia’s birth, escaping her duty of giving him a son. As he reminisced on her, he was only plagued by the thought of how he could have married someone so weak.

He refused to marry again after her, he didn’t want his legacy to be tainted further. And although his daughter was born from weakness she had redeemed herself by birthing a son. Her spouse, Lord Wayne, wouldn’t have been his first pick, but their affair bore a strong prince. His daughter learnt from her mother’s failures and (under his guidance) had become one of his few trusted associates.

“Well?” He boomed, Marinette flinched away. Another sign of weakness. He raised an eyebrow at her, enticing her to comment. “What do you have to say about all this?”

‘What do I have to say?’ She repeated, this surely was a trap, a test. One wrong word and she would be done for. She wanted to scream that she was a warrior not an incubator, and yell at him for deceiving the world.

But she didn’t. Damian’s words from earlier that morning caused her to metaphorically bleed like an open wound.

Her eyes met his, and she is reminded of Damian’s eyes, a stunning evergreen forest comes to mind. But Ra’s eyes weren’t like Damian’s or even Talia’s, his eyes held so much scorn that made them worse then toxic. His eyes held a nuclear explosion behind them and memories of the suffering that came after.

“If the last empire failed,” She paused, taking a breath to conceal her malice. “Why do you think your’s won’t?”

“Because whilst the previous empire thought they were immortal—“ he leaned forward, his face inches away from hers. “I know I am.”

‘Is that how he lived? That is to say if he died in the first place.’ Her body subconsciously moved away but Talia held her in place, his breath was hot and suffocating. She sent a silent prayer to Damian that she was sorry, but the only way she could hold her tongue was if she stitched her lips shut.

-x-

A figure stumbled into the young couple’s room, leaning against the now closed door gasping for breath. Their entry was preceded by rushed footsteps and proceeded by the slam of the dark oak door. Damian watched from the smaller room, the expanse of the appartments was coated by darkness. The shadowed individual walked closer to the lit lantern sat atop the bedside table. The flickering incandescent, cast an orange light upon the person, revealing Damian’s first assumption; his bride, Marinette.

A sob escaped her quivering lips, and the prince noticed her gleaming tears creating trails down her pale cheeks. She collapsed on her bed, crying. He internally debated about whether to invade her space when she was in such a vulnerable state or give her the illusion of privacy.

Looking down at his hands, he remembered the grit of dried blood that once collected underneath his nails. His childhood (if you could call it that) was one of bloodshed and pain. The room looked bigger now and his breathing became infrequent. The bassinet by the window was stripped bare and now became a microcosm of the imprisonment and restriction he faced within the palace walls.

Hands clenched tightly into fists, his nails tempting with the idea of breaking the skin of his palms. He desperately grasped an invisible rope, willing it to ground him. Tremors shook Damian’s body as her cries returned to muffled sobs. ‘Grandfather would be disgusted,’ when had he become so weak?

She had cast a spell over him, projected her despair onto him. What was she crying about anyways? Being sad was being feeble, and being feeble lead to disloyalty.

He stood up, the internal debate was over, all the mental diplomats were slaughtered by the strongest; pride. Rubbing his eyes he broke out of her theurgy. He walked to the bedside, picking up a blanket along the way. When he reached her, body still racking whilst she blubbered, he wrapped the large grey blanket around her shoulders.

Marinette flinched on contact. A cloud could touch her and she still would’ve shied away. Her hair was a mess and stuck to her sweat coated skin. Craning her neck she looked up at her offender, only to find her groom.

Damian’s eyes. They were so similar to... His Highness’s eyes were the last this she saw before the pain penetrated her skull. Her throat was rubbed raw from her screaming which had melted into cries. Is she not even safe in the place she was meant to sleep?

“Take this as a warning—“ pain all she felt was pain, her ears rung from the sound of flesh beating flesh. “Next time you’ll know not to question things above your position.”

CRACK

She screamed.

Damian scanned her face, her eyes were puffy and red. But that wasn’t it. Her left lid looked darker than it should and her bottom lip was busted.

“Who did this to you.” He struggled to keep his tone neutral as she stared into his wide eyes. His mothers statement from several years ago flashed into his mind, “Her position is determined by this marriage Damian, and through you, the Order has a secure future. This union gives us more power and provides them with protection.”

Protection. What use was this marriage if it couldn’t supply the one thing her kin wanted for her; safety.

He looked down upon her beaten face, her skin was tender as blackish-blue bruises waged war. All of a sudden it didn’t matter who committed this atrocity, nor did his thirst for revenge. A pit formed deep within his chest, he had a feeling he knew the answer to his own question.

He turned, rushing over to the closet, Marinette’s arm burned at the removal of his hand. She tilted her head, wiping her eyes as she peered over, watching what he was doing. He had grabbed multiple sets of dark clothes before hastily walking into the bathroom, he returned with the empty linen laundry hamper.

He stuff the items into the hamper before turning back to her, the prince looked almost frantic. He marched back up to her, kneeling, he held her hand between his. Locking eyes with her, her jaggedly cut hair falling similar to that of a curtain as she tilted her head down.

“We have to leave.”

“What?” As if it was a reflex she responded before she could process what he said. ‘Leave?’ This was his home, his kingdom. Why would he want to leave. Her head hung as self-deprecating comments caused her to spiral, ‘I have caused him so much trouble that he feels the need to leave, so that he’s legacy isn’t disgraced further.’

“I cannot ask you to do that.” All of the snark and jest was torn from her leaving her as a husk. “Please,” Her hoarse voice cracked. “I do not wish to cause any more havoc.”

“And I cannot allow for anyone to harm you,” he paused, her eyes shimmered underneath the glow of the lantern light. “You are my wife.”

She softly smiled at the acknowledgment of their status, he had never called her anything other than her name. The ‘my wife’ comment didn’t mean much due to the nature of their arrangement but it still meant something, no matter how minuscule.

“We can’t leave, bad things will happen if we do.”

"There is never going to be a perfect answer." He squeezed her hand, an act of reassurance to give her some form of comfort. “Sometimes the choices we must make have cons alongside their pros."

Taglist:

@thesunniestdays @jayjayspixiepop @toodaloo-kangaroo

[ladyhindsight]

For the longest time Simon was the only character that I liked and I couldn't understand why.

He's the classic "good guy in the friendzone" who cheats on girls, forces a kiss on his best friend and considers girls these pretty things to conquer.

I was like, what is wrong with me? Why do I hate all characters except him?

And then I realized.

Simon is the only character that does something in the books. And he's the only character who shows some genuine moments of altruism, while all the others are self-absorbed assholes, Clary and Jace above all.

He's still a piece of cardboard like all of Clare's characters but at least he tries to be a protagonist of a fantasy series.

And so I understood that I didn't like him as a person, but as a character playing a role in the story. And he's pretty much the only one to like, in that sense.

He kills a demon as a human, gets turned into a vampire, strikes a deal with the vampire clan, and he'll play an even bigger role in the next 3 books.

The same can't be said for the others.

I think it has all to do with the fact that, as Jace's competition, Clare didn't care too much about him. She didn't idolize him and wasn't afraid to compromise him, while Jace and Clary had to be these perfect little angels adored by everyone.

If you dislike Clary and Jace, you're an irredeemable villain.

If you dislike Simon, you're Jace.

And my subconscious just didn't want to be Jace lol

There's also the fact that Clary and Jace's love story is the main focus, always. Clare couldn't do the same with Simon and Izzy because 1) that would take page time from Clace, the horror! and 2) she hates Isabelle like she hates all girls that aren't Clary, and so Izzy was never a real character but just a vessel for conflict with Clary and to tell readers how great Jace is.

All characters revolve around Clary and Jace. Simon is the only one who, albeit with difficulty, manages to escape his fate and be his own character and DO SOMETHING FOR THE PLOT OF THE SERIES.

And I truly believe this was totally accidental.

It only happened because, as Jace's competition, aka Clary's aka the readers' second choice, Clare wasn't afraid to make Simon suffer and get dirty.

Much like Jem struggling with a drug addiction that's slowly killing him and being turned into a Silent Brother, while Will's character is just "uh, I'm snarky and hot and tormented?" (like Jace)

Only difference is Jem did nothing for the plot, but he is a more interesting character than all the others.

And that's because Clare doesn't keep him up on a pedestal.

But it's totally accidental. It only happens because Clare doesn't want to compromise any of her darlings.

(Sorry for the repetitions I'm just thought-dumping lol)

City of Glass was especially a book where Simon’s altruism shone. What he did for the vampires wasn’t about him, he knew Raphael wanted to kill him, but he played his own game so the vampires would have that Council seat. He took the risk that the Mark could do something bad to him but he did it anyway.

It was Simon who pushed Clary to do the right thing. Jace does nothing if it isn’t about Clary or have something do with Clary. Simon is a problem solver for a lot of it. Because of the Mark of Cain, Raziel gives them a powerful weapon in exchange—Simon’s only protection against other vampires wanting to kill him for his daylight powers—and it is Simon’s immortality that will end up saving everyone’s ass in the end. It is his sacrifice.

I once said that Simon is the only character that serves a consistent and important role. Every single thing he goes through—becomes a vampire, becomes the Daylighter, becomes the carrier of the mark of Cain, etc.—serve a point for the plot to carry forward. Without Simon, they’d be stuck, the vampires and the Nephilim alike.

All characters revolve around Clary and Jace. Simon is the only one who, albeit with difficulty, manages to escape his fate and be his own character and DO SOMETHING FOR THE PLOT OF THE SERIES.

^Exactly this. While he falls into some same categories as Isabelle and Alec—mainly as the spokesperson for Jace’s torment—he is, in the sense you presented here, more independent from Clary and Jace as character. And what speaks for the accidental nature of it all is that the loss and pain other characters suffer aren’t really taken into account in the same level as Jace’s, even if they were more pressing matters, because it’s not something Clare wants to deal with, write about, or focus on.

Clare “compromises” Jace in the sense that he still gets to go back and live his life with Clary and his family, just some experiences richer. Similarly like Tessa and Will “suffer horribly”, but lose actually very little. None of the characters really lose anything substantial, for which I think Simon should’ve been the one substantial loss to Clary, and Simon could’ve gotten on with his life. It would’ve been a loss for Simon, too, in a sense but he wouldn’t have remembered it, which would’ve made the end of Simon and Clary’s friendship bittersweet and true loss.

(Don't be sorry, nowadays I too just thought dump :') )