#TO SPEAK TO ME IN FEAR! AS THOUGH I AM YOUR MOTHER! WHO DID EVERY TERRIBLE THING TO YOU! AND BELIEVE THAT I AM THE SAME! WILL ANGER ME

[chillllii]

I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER I AM NOT YOUR FATHER I AM NOT YOUR TEACHER I AM NOT YOUR SIBLING I AM NOT THOSE SHITTY ADULTS YOU KNEW AS A KID I AM NOT. THEM. I NEVER WAS AND NEVER WILL BE I AM YOUR FRIEND AND I BELIEVE IN YOU AND LOVE YOU UNCONDITIONALLY

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Five - Diamonds

♡♡♡

The next ball you attended felt like quite the intimate affair. Understandably so.

You attended with your mother, but as soon as the Bridgerton's arrived, you waited for the opportune moment to join them. Benedict and Colin seemed particularly pleased to see you already. You were becoming quite close friends with them.

The Duke approached Daphne and asked her to dance. Anthony was about to intervene, but Lady Danbury, who had approached alongside Simon, spoke up before he could. "I shall need someone else to seek me a glass of ratafia, then. Lord Bridgerton..." She holds up her arm, "Do me the honour?"

You hide your smile at her tactics. It was so clear she was trying to prevent him from interfering further.

Anthony gives in. "Of course, Lady Danbury."

They leave.

You watch as Daphne goes with Simon into the main ballroom. You watch them go. As you enter the ballroom yourself, you watch them join the others in a dance.

They look happy together. They are enjoying themselves.

Could it be the Duke does, in fact, feel something for Miss Bridgerton? It certainly looks that way. You can only imagine what Whistledown will say about this.

Benedict smiles as he watches from beside Anthony.

"They look wonderful together," you say softly.

Anthony clenches his jaw from beside you. As the current dance ends, Anthony takes Benedict by the shoulder and urges him forward. "Go dance with your sister."

You look at them as Benedict asks, "why?"

"Because I asked you to!"

Benedict looks less than pleased but goes anyway, groaning. You watch him approach Daphne.

With Simon now free, Anthony marches off to talk to him. You sigh as you realise you are now alone.

Benedict dances with Daphne only for a short while before she parts with him and enters the next room. The same room Anthony went into with Simon. You find yourself walking that way to see what was happening.

You stand in the door as Anthony hurries past. Violet reaches out for him, but he keeps on moving. You find Daphne looking at Simon. She approaches him to speak with him.

Benedict comes up beside you. "Will you dance with me? My dance with Daphne ended early."

You chuckle and take his hand. "As did her patience, I think. What was that about?"

"I have no idea." He takes you to the dance floor. You both start to dance.

"Your family is quite something."

"That's putting it politely."

"Is Lord Berbrooke a problem?" You ask.

"I'm not sure. Anthony seemed to have it all handled." Benedict shrugs. "He seems to have control of the matter."

"Does he?"

"I think so." Though Benedict didn't sound so convinced.

"I have you any callers yet?" He asks, changing the topic. As much as he loved his family, he only cared to discuss them for so long.

"No..." You confess.

"Not one?" He asks, sounding surprised. "How is that possible?"

"The ton have their eyes on Daphne now. I shall be unlikely able to stand out at all." You tell him.

"I find that hard to believe."

"It is true. I appreciate your concern, but I fear I shall not find a match this year. I shall enjoy the rest of the season as much as I can."

Benedict frowns slightly.

"You need not pity me. I am quite content to wait another year." You assure him, or at least try to.

"Still, wouldn't it be nice to know someone noticed you?"

You keep your mouth shut. You fear him being able to read you too easily. Though it seems your silence was enough of an answer for him.

"You need not feel the need to pretend."

"It's nothing."

Neither of you speaks again. When the dance ends, you bow and part ways from him. Benedict watches you go, sensing you would rather have some time to yourself for now.

♡♡♡

Your mother enters the drawing room where you are reading. She has this morning's issue of Lady Whistledown. You care not for the gossip column.

"It seems Miss Bridgerton is indecisive about the duke."

"Is that so," you hum softly, turning the page in your book.

"She would make a fine duchess, do you not think?"

"Yes, quite."

Your mother looks up at you. You're awfully quiet this morning. "Something the matter?"

"Why should anything be the matter?" You ask.

"No reason... You are just so quiet this morning."

"Forgive me. I didn't get much sleep."

"Are you well?" She asks.

"Well enough."

Your mother comes to sit beside you. She reaches for your hand and pulls it into her lap. "You can speak with me about anything."

You smile and squeezes her hand. "I know."

"A mother knows when her daughter is upset."

"I wouldn't say I'm upset."

"Then what is it?" She asks.

You sigh and put down your book. "I have had no one caller this season. I know I am not diamond, and I know we are not Bridgerton status, but I thought surely one man in all of London would come see me."

"Yes. Well, I thought perhaps that Benedict might."

"Mother."

"I know. I know. You told me yourself. I suppose I am glad you have become friends with them. Though he would make a fine husband."

"I am sure." You smile.

"You will find someone. Perhaps not now, but soon. I am willing to wait with you."

You smile at your mother and lean against her shoulder. She kisses the top of your head gently.

You are thankful you have her.

♡♡♡

The grand picnic was an exciting time. All the ton gathered in the park to enjoy the wonderful weather and promanade. It was a chance to see who was courting who, if at all anyone.

You were in attendance with your mother and a couple of maids. You were sitting under the canopy, fanning yourself gently, not that it was extremely hot today. You scanned the park, looking out for family faces.

Lord and Lady Carlisle were strolling by. You spotted two young boys by the lake, one of which you were certain was the son of Mr Thomas who loved but two houses away from you and your mother.

Your eyes found where the Bridgerton's were stationed. Anthony and Colin appeared to be playing games with their younger siblings. Benedict was seated, watching them. You smile.

The thought of a large family seemed so comforting to you. As an only child, you would never know what it would be like to have the company of siblings.

Perhaps, you think, in your future, you may have many children. You would like your children to have the love and support and chaos of each other.

"You're smiling."

You turn to find your mother looking at you.

"What are you smiling at?" She asks softly.

"Nothing," you lie.

You know she doesn't believe you. You also know you can't hide from her either. "Do you think I can have a large family one day?" You ask.

She smiles. "I do not see why not." Your mother had already spotted the Bridgerton's across the way. She knew they were a large enough family. "One day."

You smile as you turn back to them.

"Why don't you go over? I will be quite alright with my own company for a while."

"Are you certain? I do not mind staying."

She smiles softly. "Go. Enjoy yourself. They are, after all, your friends."

You smile and thank her, rising from your seat to go join them. As you get closer, Benedict and Colin both perk up.

"Hello," you smile.

Anthony turns and smiles, too. "Hello. Come to join us, have you?"

"Is that alright?"

Before Anthony can reply, Benedict speaks up, sitting up in his chair. "Of course. Come, sit with me."

You chuckle and join him under the canopy. You sit in the vacant seat. Violet comes over with a smile. "Good to see you, dear."

"I hope I'm not intruding."

"Nonsense!" She smiles, placing a hand on your shoudler gently.

You watch the children play. Benedict offers you some food from the basket beside him, and you accept. Any sour moods about your prospects has been forgotten.

When Simon approaches on horseback, Daphne is quick to flee from her brother to join him. They stroll away.

"Are you alright?" Benedict takes the opportunity to ask.

"Hm?" You turn to him.

"The other night, you left rather quickly the other night."

"I'm fine. I was just tired. Forgive me." You offer him a smile, but he takes note it doesn't quite light up your face.

"Of course."

You continue to pick at the picnic.

Benedict watches you for a little while, but his attention is torn away when a voice calls out.

"Bridgerton!"

You look up in time to see Berbrooke coming forth with something in his hand. His face looks terrible, as if he took a beating.

"A bring cheerful new, Bridgertons."

Violet and Anthony turn to look at the man.

"I have taken matters in my own hands and sought a special license for my wedding to Miss Bridgerton."

"There is to be no wedding," Daphne states, pleading with him.

You stand, worried for Daphne.

"I told you. The arrangement is cancelled." Anthony recalls.

"Lord Berbrooke, you look in a great deal of pain," Violet says. "Shall we continue this in a more private location?"

"I require no further conversation." He says firmly. "Though perhaps I am finally speaking to the true head of the Bridgerton house. For if it were you, I imagine you would have instructed your sister to take better care than to encourage certain attentions while alone with me on the Dark Walk at Vauxhall. Of course, mere hearsay of such scandal could wreak havoc on even the most influential of families. What would someone like, say, Lady Whistledown do with such unseemly information?"

You stare at the man with shock and disgust. You had no idea lf the details of what has happened, but you know enough to know Daphne would never take part in such behaviour.

"Is that a threat?" Anthony asks.

"It is certainly not. Because in three days, I am to marry. I have the diamond of the season." Berbrooke states. "I have the beey best the ton has to offer. I have a Bridgerton. And I shall save her, as well as your entire family, from the ruin which you could not protect them." He looks at Anthony.

You want so much to make his black eye worse. You don't even realise Benedict holds your arm gently to prevent you from moving.

Simon goes to move past Daphne to do the exact same as you thought. Benedict quickly let's go of you to hold him back.

You're caught off guard by how quickly both men moved.

"I look forward to the union of our great families." Berbrooke grins. His grin sends your stomach turning. "Bridgerton. Hastings."

He leaves.

Anthony is left to look at the special license that had been thrusted upon him.

Daphne looks beyond upset.

Anthony and Violet are quick to see Daphne home. Benedict escorts you back to your mother while Colin sees to his younger siblings.

"Will she be alright?" You ask.

"I'm sure. Though you best leave this to my brother."

"She looked terribly upset."

"As she should be. Lord Berbrooke is a horrid little man." Benedict sighs. "My sister deserves the best."

You smile softly. "I'm rather fond of Daphne. Perhaps I shall pay her a visit soon?"

"I am sure she will be most pleased. For now, give her time."

You nod.

You reuter to your mother who comes to stand with you. She had seen Lord Berbrooke approach.

"Is all well?" She asks.

You let go of Benedict to join her. "It shall be in time, I'm sure."

You turn back to Benedict. "See you soon." He nods and departs.

Your mother loops her arm with yours and walks with you. You tell her little of what happened, but you know she, too, worries about Daphne.

When the eyes of the ton are all on you, there comes great pressure and challenges.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn -

[smilelikeacheshirecat]

Date for Castlecoming

Pairings: Bridget Hearts x fem!reader

Genre: fluff

word count: 1624

Summary: Bridget and reader have a crush on each other but reader don’t know Bridget is sad to know you don’t like Castle coming but you pulled out the courage to ask her.

note: I just find Bridget so cute and sweet I couldn’t help but write about her.

Red and Chloe watches as Uliana disappear with all the other villains following after her. 

At least now they know who’s gonna prank Bridget. The two girls then follow to where their mothers ran off to and had finally caught up to them inside.

“How’s Uli doing?” Bridget asked still feeling guilty of what happen. “I feel so terrible. . . . I should go apologize—” before she could turn to look for Uliana, Red had step in front of her, stopping her from leaving.

“Don’t!” Ella said.. “She did it to herself. And it serves her right.” She told her. “She’s always bullying us.” She explained to the two girls.

Red nodded in understanding. But them all heads turn t someone calling for Ella. The door opened, stopping the conversation, and Prince Charming walked in.

“Ella, you that was amazing.” He said to them.

Ella couldn’t help the smile appear in her face at the prince’s arrival.

“You ladies bested Uliana! I don’t think anyone’s ever done that before. That makes you braver than I am. And I’m a prince!” He turned to Red and Chloe. “Though I don’t really like to push the royal angle.”

Chloe couldn’t help but smile at the familiar feeling of seeing her parents together. But red could only jut stare at the prince, her interest in him disappear when Chloe told her that he was her Dad in the future.

“Yet you always find a way,” Ella said stiffly.

Charming grinned at her attitude and turned once more to Red and Chloe.

“You’re the new girls, right? I’m Charming.”

“That’s debatable,” Ella argued.

They’re always the same even in the past. Chloe thought , recalling the same conversation her parents would have back home.

Charming ignored her comment and continued speaking to Red and Chloe. “And you guys picked the right time to show up, because . . . it’s Castlecoming week!” he said a little excited.

He tried to catch Ella’s gaze, wanting to hint something but no luck. She seemed to be intentionally avoiding his’.

“Castlecoming is an outdated, elitist tradition,” Ella informed.

“Wait, so . . . does that mean you’re not . . .” Charming question.

“Squeezing into a super-expensive dress and painful shoes? No thanks,” Ella stated.

Charming tried to hide his disappointment. “Right. Well . . . if you happen to change your mind, I’ll see ya there.” He flipped his hair in his charming way before he turned and took off down the hall.

Ella watched him, her expression unreadable. While her best friend just each them interact with a knowing smile on her face.

“Hey, Ella, he seemed very interested in your plans for the festival,” Chloe said. “Was I sensing some chemistry?” She added in a suggestive tone.

“Uh, no.” Ella scooted at the accusation. She turn to Bridget who was fidgeting with her necklace and gave her a look. “Okay, yeah, everyone loves him. And sure, he’s gorgeous and he seems nice, but you know how royalty is.” But she quickly corrected herself. “Except you, B. You’re different.”

Chloe stared at her mother in disbelief. How her parents had ever ended up together was starting to seem like a mystery to her. She had always thought they re love at first sight but seeing what just happen, that doesn’t seems to be the case.

Bridget sighed longingly. “I just wish someone was that interested in going with me. Everyone already has plans, so . . .” she explained to Red, having a particular person in mind.

Bridget had intentions of asking but the fear of rejection compels her throw such plans and bury her unresolved feelings deep deep down where no one could every see or find out about.

Red seems to be curious about another information about her life, she never know who her mother ended up with. and hr mother wasn’t one to share such intimate information with her.

During the conversation, something caught Ella’s eyes, she look closer and notice a certain brunette walking on their way, you. Ella looked at her best friend with a sly smile.

“Bridget?”

“Hmm?” Bridget hummed in respond but a yelp escape her lips as Ella abruptly turn her. Now she is face to face with the very brunette she was thinking about.

“Hey Bridget” the brunette princess greeted happily at the sight of the sweet pink princess.

“Hey, Hi hi hi y/n” Bridget couldn’t help but laugh nervously when facing you. A side of her that aren’t normally displayed.

It was most certainly foreign to see her mother like this. Red was already bombarded on how sweet her mother was compared to how she knows her. Red had seen how her mother rule over wonderland for 16 years of her life. The tyrant, said that her dress is as red as blood of all her victims off of their heads. 

“I heard what happen.�� you then inspect every each of Bridget, making sure nothing was out of place. You were so worried after you heard what happen that you practically jump from your seat and race to where she is. “I’m glad your okay” you said after making sure she truly is okay.

“Of course I’m fine” Bridget smile again, feeling a little bashful of the display of concern from her. But them a frown reappears on her face as she recalls what happen. “I hope Uli is alright”

You smiled at the girl in front of you. No matter how mean or bad someone can be to her, she would still worry about others before herself. Which sometimes worries you.

“I’m sure she’s fine and probably had it coming so you don’t have to worry about her okay?” you reassured.

“Okay” Bridget nodded and smile at the comfort.

“Hey Ella” You turn to the blue-haired girl who had a cheeky smile on her face as she watches the two of you.

“Hi y/n” Ella greeted you back. Other than Bridget, you were the other princess she likes. “Any plans for Castlecoming?” She asked.

“Oh, well…I despise everything it stands for regardless of me being royal” you said honestly, showing disinterest for the event.

You weren’t one that enjoys dancing around in a heavy, extravagant ball gown, putting fake smiles and forcing to talk with other royal children in hopes of creating friendship with other kingdoms. That would only cause her stress rather than entertainment. You would rather stay in your room or better yet the library with a good book and hot cup beverage and drowning out the worries of reality.

You train of thoughts may had made you missed the sad look in Bridget’s eyes but the other girls in your company didn’t. It was obvious that the Princess of Hearts likes you but she lacks the courage to ask her.

Lucky for her, she doesn’t have to.

Ella cleared her throat, catching your attention.

You turn to look at Ella. The blue-haired girl tilted her head towards Bridget, encouraging her. 

You looked at Bridget who’s sad expression disappeared the moment she notice that you were now looking at her.

“Bridget?” You started.

“Yes?” 

“Will you go to Castlecoming with me?” You cleared your throat and took a deep breath, collecting all your courage and finally asked. It no longer matter to you if you gets rejected today, a long as you were able to asked Bridget. And if she did said yes, then Castlecoming would definitely be more fun.

“But you just said . . .” Bridget started.

“I know but if we go, it won’t be so bad.” You stated.

With that Bridget squealed in delight at the news. “Yes yes yes” she couldn’t contain herself and starts jumping up and down and pulled you into a hug, squeezing in excitement.

“You’re coming too Ella” You declared.”And we’re not taking no for an answer” you said firmly when you saw the girl was about to decline the offer.

“We could set her and Charming for a dance” you whispered to Bridget who smiled in agreement.

With no way out Ella reluctantly agreed. 

“We have to go try on dresses right now.” Bridget let go you before taking Ella’s hand in hers. “We only have two days!” She spun into Ella’s arms.

“I can’t. I have to get back home. But maybe later?”

“Okay,” Bridget said, her smile ever leaving her face.

She was to excited, she’s gong to castle coming with her best friend and the person she’s been meaning to be with. She gave Ella one last squeeze before taking taking your hand, dragging you away with her.

“Who was that?” Red was finally able to asked as she saw the two princess running off to who knows where.

“Princess Y/n also known as Bridget crush since forever” Ella said smiling she was finally seeing Bridget happy with someone. 

But that didn’t clear up anything for Red, she never know anyone by the name Y/n let alone someone who is close to her mom and has feelings for no less. Who is this person and how come she had never meet you before and yet you seems to be someone important to her mother’s life.

Where was this person when the prank happen, how come she had never heard of you before. Too many questions running inside her head that she didn’t question Ella when she left to go home as well.

While at Bridget’s dorm room, she had pulled out ever dress in her clothes checking each one and showing it to you.

To be honest you don’t know which one to choose because Bridget looks beautiful in all of them.

Bridget didn’t mind modeling of her dress, clearly enjoying herself especially now that you and her are together.

They spent most of the day inside the room, enjoying each other’s company as they tried on different dresses they’ll be wearing.

And maybe after Castlecoming you could be more than dates going to the dance.

[spicy30]

Modernness of 1400s 002

Pairing: HOTD x Fem!Modern!Reader

Extra: The reader is noted to be bilingual (Spanish speaking) and is familiar with the majority of Latin-based languages, No use of Y/N

cw: Misinformation, cannon-typical violence, drinking

Rating: 13+

Not proofread

WC: 5.4k

Walking down the long corridors of the Jacaerys watched you from the corner of his eye. His eyes wandered to your clothing and he felt his face heat up. It was quite revealing. Your top did not cover your arms and the sides of it well, it exposed even more skin. Your cleavage was visible from any angle. You wore what he assumed was some kind of bracelet, though there was a black square on it. Then on your fingers you were silver and gold rings. If you had access to this kind of jewelry despite being common born, then perhaps you were not. You also seemed to be unusually educated for a woman despite your manner of speaking. Along with that your neck sported two necklaces, one gold, another silver and your ears were decorated with what he assumed were pearl earrings. No one of common born status should be able to afford the jewelry you had. 

You turned your head to look at the young man who looked at you. You watched him turn away swifting avoid your eyes. You murmured an “okay” before jogging to the front of his mother.

As you went forward, your scent hit his nose and he found himself leaning forward every so slightly trying to inhale more. It was sweet, but not like the perfumes that were used. This smelled…he couldn’t describe but Jacaerys desperately wanted to smell it more. As he leaned forward he nearly tripped. He heard laughter beside him. Luke.

They both looked at each other before looking ahead at your backside. It was very pronounced with the trousers you wore. They were a gray color, tight around your thighs and bottom showing your figure, then loose towards the bottom. Both boys stared before looking back at each other. Luke grinned and pushed Jacaerys. He grinned back and pushed Luke. 

Standing next to the Princess she eyed you from the side of her eye. 

“Ehm, Princess? Where are we going?” You asked, walking next to her.

“To my father, see if you can heal him.” As she spoke you held your breath. It was clear they hadn’t yet discovered oral hygiene. 

“If I can’t?” You were afraid of the answer to come. You just wanted to go home and let your family know you were okay. The bottom line was, you needed to get home. The rest of your life was ahead of you and you would rather not spend it here. Especially if they didn’t have modern medicine. Sure you had romanticized the pretty dresses of medieval times but that didn’t mean you wanted to live here. Proper hygiene, modern medicine, the internet. You’d never survive without any of it. 

“You die.” Daemon spoke. Your eyes widened and you stopped. 

“What!? Now hold on!” You stopped dead in your tracks. “Who are you to make the decision? I have plenty of other things to offer!” 

“He is my husband. Prince Daemon.” The Princess answered. 

You sighed in defeat. “Listen, there is so much more to me than just medicine. Besides, I am not a pre-med student. My knowledge is limited. I’m much better in biology and math, and…and english. I can give explanations half the time, but I don’t know if I can cure him. You guys don’t even have antibiotics, or even vaccines!” As they listen to you speak words that were unknown to them Daemon grabbed your face with his hand to shut you up.

“You can either do what you are told, or your head comes off.” He spoke and he watched your eyes widen in fear. Daemon watched you look around as if pleading for someone to save you. There was no one who would help you. Finally you gave a silent nod telling him that you would do your best. 

“Jace, Luke, go to your chambers.” Rhaenrya spoke as they reached her father’s room. A small protest was made but eventually the boys left, leaving you alone with Daemon and Rhaenrya. 

Stepping into the room you gagged. It smelled like rot in there and immediately you stepped out holding your arm to your nose. “Oh goodness!” Breathing in your own scent you looked to your right to see the woman in green walking towards you. You nodded your head slightly in acknowledgment and she did the same with a questioning look. She stepped inside and finally took in one final breath you stepped inside. It was a grim sight. Helpers in white dabbed the sickly King with water. For a moment you wonder if they did have clean water. 

Stepping closer and looking at the disgusting sight, you find yourself wishing that you had worn something more covering. You’d rather jump into the cold water again than touch whatever it is the King had. There were like lesions all over. You felt your hair stand on end and you gave a shiver. There was a reason you never went into the medical field. Besides of course the amount of medicines you had to memorize, things like this, you would never be able to do. 

It reminded you of a certain movie you watched. What was he called? The leopard king? No, it caused similar injuries. “Leprosy!” You spoke in disgust and you backed away. “Damn damn!” You shook your hands as if trying to get it away from you. You didn’t know how to cure leprosy! Even if you did, the material they have isn't good enough. If anything, that man was on his deathbed. You guess it would be in a couple weeks till he succumbed, maybe earlier. People like this only tend to hang on when they have something they want to accomplish. 

You sighed. Turning to the woman in the green dress, Daemon and the Princess you shook your head. 

“Uh…can I talk to immediate family members?” You meant the Princess. They all nodded and all three walked out. “Uh only relatives.” You spoke again. 

“He is my brother.” “I am his wife.” Both came out simultaneously from Daemon and the woman in green, or in other words the Queen. You made a face. She seemed far too young for the old man, and if Daemon was his brother, wouldn’t that mean he’s the Princess's uncle? 

“Ehm, I thought she was your wife?” You asked, looking towards Daemon. 

“She is.” It was a simple response but you could not wrap your head around it.

“And you two are married?” Your brow lifted in confusion. Daemon nodded and you shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose. “That cannot be good for genetics.” 

“Genetics?” The Queen spoke beside you. 

“Yes, what you pass to your children. Genotypes and phenotypes. Genotypes are the genetic make-up one has, and phenotypes are the physical features one possesses. Incest doesn’t make for the best….anyways a lesson for another day.” You waved it off before you ushered them outside. 

Alicent looked at you and the gears started to turn in her head. If this ‘genetics’ was accurate…

“Do you really mean to kill me if I can’t cure him?” Alicent heard you ask quietly and she narrowed her eyes towards Daemon as he gave a knowing look.

“Well then I suggest you start preparing two caskets.” Your tone was grim. You looked towards Rhaenyra. “You are the eldest?” You asked her and she nodded. “Well, start mourning your losses, you will be Queen soon. There is nothing I can do for him, perhaps disinfect his wounds with alcohol but that's the best I can offer. Along with that…” You kept your eyes on Daemon watching his every move. “I suggest you either boil anything he has touched or burn it. Leprosy is contagious. Put a mask on him, it assures that germs don't spread. If you have any cuts on you, or your skin is broken, don’t touch him.” You spoke in low-tones. Of course you didn’t really plan to die, but you had to find a way to get out of here and fast. 

“Then you have come to the end of your use.” Daemon's hand curled around the hilt of his sword. You turned your gaze to the hallways, but Daemon was blocking the path. Looking down towards as he began to pull out his sword. Before you could register what you were doing your body acted on instinct and pushed his sword back into its sheath. You pushed the entirety of your body weight to combat his strength. You refused to die here in a medieval hell. His other hand came to wrap around your neck. You took a hold of the hand you were pushing down and bent his thumb backwards. He yelled and backhanded you. You groaned and held your face. Licking your lip you tasted blood. As you looked up, your eyes widened in fear as you saw a sword lifted above you. You closed your eyes and waited for the pain.

“Hold your sword!” You heard a yell and you opened your eyes to see a hand shielding you. Then you heard a clatter of the sword he was holding and groaning, shaking his hand. “I will not have you strike her down.” The Queen spoke. “You are dismissed.” She spoke as she turned away from them to face you. 

A long pause took place as both you and Daemon glared at each other. You heard a slight murmur before he turned to walk away Rhaenyra holding his injured hand. You kept your glare on him until he disappeared from view. However, it was replaced by a hand coming to reach for your face. You flinched away. You’d rather not be touched and contract leprosy, that means you can’t even touch your lip, even as you feel a drop of blood rolling down your chin. You licked it to stop it from falling onto your shirt.

“You can’t touch me, we’re unsanitary. I have to shower…or bathe I suppose.” You spoke in a low-tone and the Queen nodded ignoring the strange wording. 

“I will call for you once you are finished. I have some things I want to discuss with you.” Alicent would need your work on genetics. If what you said was true, Alicent could not allow a bastard to be named heir to the throne, or the possibility of her children being in danger. If calling upon your knowledge is what it took, she would do so. 

The Queen dismissed you and asked for servants to prepare you a bath. You walked away with the servants and a personal guard she assigned you. As your servant led you to whatever quarters you were staying at, you admired the architecture of the castle. It was breathtaking. As you were looking around you caught sight of the man with the eye-patch and his brother with a bottle in his hand. You looked at them with a blank face before looking away, though you did not miss their lingering eyes, more specifically, their lingering eyes on your bloody lip. 

…

“They will use her to question Jace and Luke’s parentage.” Rhaenrya spoke as she paced while Daemon rubbed his forearm, the pain had traveled from just his thumb to the entire forearm. He had spent the better part of the walk back to the room cursing your name. “She is not from here Daemon. If she is right about my fathers death? They will take her words if she is able to discover-” She didn’t let herself finish. 

“Anyone could predict that my brother will perish soon. In any case if she does say such things, then she will meet the same fate as Vaemond. The cunt only managed to injure me because I did not think she would fight.” Daemon reasoned watching his wife look down towards his hand with a worried look. 

“Even so, if what she says is true…then we should stay in King’s Landing until then.” Rhaenrya sighed as she bent down to hold her husband’s hand to begin bandaging it.

…

You scrubbed feverishly at your arms and skin hoping it would be enough to get rid of the germs. It would really suck if you died from leprosy. It was such an ugly way to go, and this bruise on your lip was already ugly enough for you. Damn Daemon and damn every other woman beater in this castle. However, you did feel a bit better in this water and now that you have gotten your things back. You couldn't believe your luck that the suitcase that brought you down just so happened to be the one with all the sanitary items in them. When you saw your soaps and shampoos you nearly fell on your knees thanking whatever deity was out there.

However, you never did get any of your clothes back and this suitcase only had limited options, it only really had one or two outfits to wear along with some undergarments. But! Beggars can’t be choosers. 

Rinsing your hair and body you stepped out and put on a robe. Unfortunately, you did not bring a towel. You dug through your suitcase pulling out lacy underwear and a lace bralette. “Y’know when I said I wanted crazy things to happen, I didn’t mean this crazy.” You murmured as you put them on. 

As you finished clasping the final hook you heard a knock then the door opening. “Woah!” You yelled as you covered your top half. The man who held the bottle from before entered with a smile. 

“Is this what women wear where you’re from?” He looked you up and down. 

“Get out!” You urged as you covered yourself with a robe. 

“Here.” He tossed you your purse. “Mother sent me to give it to you.” He gave you one last look before smiling and walking out.

You scoffed and dropped the robe. Only then did you really grasp what you had in your hand. Your purse. You unzipped it and looked through it. You felt a familiar rectangular shape and you smiled and pulled it out. 

“Thank you! To whatever god there is or whoever you are! Thank you!” You shook your phone happily. “And you!” You spoke to your phone as you powered it on. “Thank you for being water-proof!” As you powered it on, it was at seventy-five percent. It was good enough. You opened maps, though only the downloaded parts cap up. Cursing you saw you had no signal. You sighed and pulled your hair back in desperation. What good was a phone if you couldn’t call anyone?

You threw yourself on your bed whining. “Someone played me ultraviolence.” Just then you shot up. “Wait!” You grabbed your phone and went through the songs you downloaded before you crashed. Finding the song you giggled as you pressed play and threw yourself onto your bed as the song played. 

“This is so aesthetic.” You sighed. You felt like you could be an album cover as this song played. Here you lay on a fur bed in your lingerie in an old castle with a bruised lip. As the song came to an end you stood up and turned off your phone. It would be best to save the battery. As you hummed the tune you looked towards the dress you were supposed to wear. Your attire you suppose was a bit inappropriate for the times. However, as you lifted the dress you questioned how exactly you were going to put this on. 

So for the next two hours you spent trying to put on the dress. 

…

As Alicent sat in silence beside her father she leaned over and whispered in a servant's ear. “Summon her.” It was a quick command and Alicent watched as the servant girl left. 

“If she's right about Viserys, then it can be used to prop Aegon as king.” Otto muttered near Alicent. “Only if she can prove without a doubt that Rhaenrya’s children are bastards.” Alicent responded as she looked towards the dark hair boys who now spoke to their betrotheds. 

Alicent sat still waiting for your arrival. Though Viserys only wanted family, she figured he wouldn’t mind the small addition of you. Finally the doors opened and there you stood with a determined look and suddenly Alicent was transported back to when she first made her stance. The pressure and eyes she felt when she first wore her green dress. Now you walked with the same green dress with arguably the most important eyes on you. 

You glowed under the light, almost unnaturally so. Your features seemed enhanced, and your skin seemed impossibly smooth. An almost perfect blush coated your face and your lips shone as if they were covered in honey. Your eyelashes were long and darker than what she remembered. The mark on your lip appeared nearly healed. It was impossible. You had only been struck hours ago by Daemon Targaryen, and even if he did not put his full force into it. Alicent hated to admit it, he was still Daemon Targaryen. 

“I thought this was family only?” Daemon asked with a smirk. Alicent watched you to see how you’d react. She only saw you give a small smile while looking down then back up towards him before taking your seat next to Alicent. Alicent inhaled your scent and you smelled sweet, it also made her want to lean over and inhale you. Never had she met anyone who had smelled so good. 

“My Queen,” Alicent heard you whisper. “Thank you for the dress, I would’ve worn something of my own, but my attire isn’t exactly proper for this kind of setting.”

Alicent gave you a nod. “Of course.”

“What do I address everyone by? I know it is not their name but, what do I say?” You asked about playing with the hems of the dress. Alicent gave you a smile. “I am Queen Alicent, you address all royalty by ‘your grace’ including Prince Daemon and Princess Rheanrya. Next to you sits my father, Lord hand Otto Hightower, next to him sits my youngest; Prince Aemond,” She watched you give her a confused look.

“I would’ve thought he was the oldest.” You whisper looking towards Aemond who always seemed to be giving a stuck up smirk. 

Alicent gave a small laugh before shaking her head. “No, Aegon, the one who sits in front of you is my eldest.” She corrected as she watched Aegon lift his chalice to you and nodded. “Next to him is his wife and my second eldest Helaena.” Alicents smiled turned into a frown when she saw you look at her confused. She watched you shake your head and look over to Jacaerys. “That is Princess Rheanrya’s eldest son, Prince Jacearys Velaryon, then next to him his betrothed, Princess Baela Targeryen, and to her right his the second eldest, Prince Lucerys Velaryon, and finally Princess Rhaena.” 

“So I address everyone as ‘your grace’ then.” You whispered to her and she nodded. “Except for your father?” Once more Alicent nodded. 

A sound was heard outside and Alicent stood up and you followed right after her. Everyone watched as Viserys was brought in and his eyes zeroed in on you before giving you a small nod. Viserys called your name and you gave a curtsy, though Alicent has no idea where you learned that from. Alicent watched you as you looked to her before addressing the King properly and though she had only just taught you, a small sense of pride emerged in her chest. 

“I thank you for your suggestion to the Maesters. I feel…better as hard as it is to believe.” Viserys spoke to you, giving you a smile. You found it hard to smile back. Finally Viserys addressed his family and you sat silently playing with the rings on your fingers. 

“Prayer before we begin?” You heard Queen Alicent ask and for a moment you wondered what their religion was. As she prayed you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips. What was the mother, or the smith? It wasn’t funny but nonetheless a smile was on your lips. You looked across from you and saw Aegon pointing to his shoulders. You raised a brow unsure of what he meant. 

Once more he made the gesture with a questioning face and once you understood it, your face went hot. He was asking about your undergarments and where they were. You rolled your eyes and looked away from him and instead towards the end of the table where Jacaerys and his betrothed was. Once again, like before he was looking at you. He turned his eyes away quickly once more away from you. Then you looked over to the girl next to him. Despite the fact that Alicent had only just told you their names, you had already forgotten them. 

She looked at you with an almost questioning look. Perhaps it was the make-up. You don’t think they have ever seen modern make-up. You gave a small smile and she gave you one back. Then you looked towards the end of the table where the younger siblings of the two sat. The dark haired one looked towards you and unlike his older brother did not shy away when you met his gaze. You gave a smile and he returned it. Before you could get a better look towards the last one King Viserys spoke. 

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons Jace and Luke will marry their cousins Baela and Rheana further strengthening the relationship between the two houses—” As Viserys spoke it caused you to make an involuntary face. 

Their cousins!? That was madness to you!

Everyone heard a laugh and you controlled your facial expressions and you looked towards Aegon as he looked at you. He cleared his throat and said his apologies, though he looked at you and smiled and you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face as you both looked towards each other. 

For the rest of the speech you both smiled towards each other as if you were both making fun of the King. Whilst you smiled towards Aegon you both were blissfully unaware of the looks everyone else gave, from Aemond and Otto, to Luke and Rhaena. 

Your attention was brought away from Aegon when the King stood up. As he spoke you looked from the corner of your eye to Aegon and he looked towards you. It seemed as if you were both speaking with your eyes. Your eyes shifted from Aegon to the King throughout his speech of family. You felt out of place and Aegon was the only one who seemed to respond when you looked towards him. 

But when Viserys took off his mask your appetite quickly left as it came. You rubbed your neck looking away from the King blinking towards Aemond who met your gaze but did nothing  but look back. It was almost as awkward as each time you tried to look towards Jacaerys, only this time Aemond’s gaze did intimate you. 

You looked away from him to down at the table then back up only to find that intense gaze still you. Once more you blinked and looked down before offering a weak smile, which was not reciprocated.

Finally you watched Viserys speak and you swore you saw small specks of spit fly out. It made sense the man had a hole in his face.

However, you were NOT catching leprosy besides, this was medieval food. You doubt you were missing much.

You leaned back in your chair. This was so not like the movies. Not to mention the whole incest stuff was just a little too much for you. Yes, you knew about cousins marrying each other but uncles and nieces!? Siblings!? You shook your head. As you looked up you saw Aegon watching you then look towards you drink. Looking around you saw others looking towards you expectantly. 

“Oh, sorry.” You took a small sip from the wine and found yourself smiling just a bit. It was good, well fermented. You observed the glass, it was quite nice. You found yourself looking at yourself in the reflection the wine offered and you drank some more feeling a warmth flood your face and ears and an involuntary smile grew on your face.

A loud sound startled you and caused you to flinch slightly. You looked up to see Jacaerys. He then looked over to you and once more he looked away. You raised a brow then you turned to watch Aemond stand. Then you saw Jacaerys lift his cup. Great. Another speech. How fun.

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen eachother in years, I have fond memories of our shared youth…and as men I hope we may yet be friends and allies.” You don’t know why, but suddenly you began to giggle. 

You didn’t bother paying attention to the rest as you tried to stop the sudden laugh attack. Your shoulders shook as you held your face down and you felt eyes on you. 

You looked up to see the displeased look on Aegon’s face and Jacaerys grabbing his shoulders and you had to cover your mouth and you gave a slightly louder giggle. You breathed in deeply trying to calm yourself but the smile would not leave your face. 

“I’d like to toast Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon, it isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you. Except sometimes when he’s drunk.” Helaena spoke and though it was a sad statement you laughed and all eyes shifted to you. Helaena, the sweet thing laughed alongside you. You both laugh, grinning towards each other. 

“This wine is very good.” You giggled out. Soon the music started and you continued to drink. As the food was passed to you, you refused it. As the night progressed you watched Helaena and Jacaerys dance with each other and then your laughter suddenly died down. 

It reminded you of your own family dinners. What did your family think? You wondered when your funeral would be? It would only be logical that they assume you’re dead. In the hall where everything was bright, your face sat out of place and a sorrowful expression sat. 

“A dance my lady?” You looked up to see Aegon. 

“I don’t know how to dance the way y’all dance.” You spoke in low tones. 

“How do you dance to this music?” Aegon tried once more watching from the corner of his eye his wife and Jace dance. 

“Waltz maybe? I don’t know” You responded. 

“Teach me then.” Aegon takes your hands and pulls you from your seat. A smile from flattery comes on your face and you feel others watching as you walk past Helaena and Jace. Your face turns a shade of pink. 

“The best I have is from Cinderella.” You whisper as you take his arm and place him around your waist and you take his other hand holding it in your own as you step closer to each other. 

“I don’t know what Cinderella is, but if it means you’re this close to me, then I think I’ll like it.” Aegon teased. “So what now?” 

“Umm good question. Okay just follow my lead. Step backward with your right.” You told him looking down between the both of you. As he stepped backwards you stepped forward with your left foot. “Now backwards with your right foot.” You whispered and you followed his movements. “Okay to the left with your left foot next to your right foot.” He nodded and you followed after him. “Finally step forward with your right foot, moving it slightly in front of your left foot, those are all the moves then you just repeat.” After one or two mistakes both of you began dancing to the beat of the music avoiding Jace and Helaena. 

You smiled and giggled as you both danced. “We dance like this until the songs are over” Aegon asked as he pulled you closer to him and you shrugged. “I suppose we can spin.” You whispered and led him into dancing in a circle. You pulled his hand away from your waist and raised the hand you held to spin yourself then once more you both resumed dancing. 

“I thought you said you did not know how to dance?” He grinned and you shrugged. “Not to this music.” 

“Mayhaps you may show me your music one day.” He suggested and you both spun. 

“Perhaps.” You smiled at him. 

The room stood still as they watched you both dance, shades of dark greens spinning and seemingly gliding across the floor to the music. It was hard to look away, especially because it seemed so scandalous having a man and woman so close to each other. 

They watched as Aegon let go of your hand and lifted you up and spun you in the air before setting you down to dance once more. They all watched you both laugh as you both once more glided across the floor. However a fist hit the table abruptly stopping the music. You let go of Aegon and turned to Aemond. 

“Final tribute.” Aemond raised his glass and you looked towards Aegon confused. He shared your look. “To the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them is handsome, wise…strong.” 

There was an implication, though it was one you could not understand. You looked towards Aegon who had a large smile on his face. Clearly he understood the reference. He pulled you by the hand and took his cup and grabbed your own, filling it to the brim with wine for you. 

“Aemond.” Queen Alicent warned. 

You raised your cup alongside Aegon looking towards Luke though his eyes were only on Aemond. Then you looked back towards Jace who looked like he was seething, though he stood in a funny way that made you giggle a bit. 

“Come, let us drain our cups to these three strong boys,” Aemond finished. 

“I dare you to say that again.” Jace challenged. You were thoroughly confused. 

Was the word ‘strong’ an insult here? “Prince Aegon, is strong not a compliment here?” You whispered. 

He grinned and shook his head. “It is. My nephews are just…sensitive.” He whispered back. 

“Why? T’was only a compliment. Do you not think of yourself as strong?” Aemond finished and you watched as Jace walked to him and hit him. You gasped and then you were pulled back behind Aegon as he slammed Luke’s head onto the table. 

“Stop!” You yelled towards Aegon. Aegon seemed to be around your age while Luke looked to be thirteen. You tried to pull Aegon off pushing you back. As you were pushed back, so was Jacaerys. You both collided into each other while he took the brunt of the fall. 

He helped you up and went back to charge back but you held onto him. As you held him back, it was the first time you really got to look at him. At any other time he would look away. As you looked longer you noticed that he had very pretty eyes. A nice dark brown. “Stop.” You whispered out. 

“Are you going to hide behind a woman nephew?” Aemond remarked while giving a cruel smile. 

You saw Jacarey narrows his eyes and begins to push against you. “Are you gonna hide behind your words?” You glared back towards him. 

“This does not concern you.” You turned and looked up towards Daemon. He towered over you, and he still had his sword on him, you knew you got lucky last time. You doubt you will be so fortunate next time. You saw his hand coming towards your face and instinctively you stepped back away from Jacaerys. The stinging sensation his backhand gave you came back and your lip felt like it was pulsing. He gave you a cruel smirk enjoying your fear of him and he stepped closer and you stepped back. 

You wanted to look away from him, but you feared that if you did he would cut you down. It wasn’t until you bumped into something that you looked back and saw a glimpse of long white hair. However, as fast as you looked back, you looked towards Daemon again, though you weren’t fast enough to evade the hand that grabbed the bottom of your face, squeezing it so that it made the cut on your lip open again. 

You hissed out a cry as his thumb was putting pressure over the bruise he had caused earlier. You felt hands on your shoulders pulling you back away from Daemon’s grasp. Daemon scoffed before he wiped his hands on his pants, showing some of your foundation. You could only assume that some of your bruises were showing. 

“You look good green.” It was all Daemon said before you were ushered out by Aemond by command of Alicent. 

Note: Every time I try to go team black I somehow end up writing for green. Also, I think I would really die if I had no music.

Previous I Next I Masterlist

To be added on Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

[pretty-lovely-mar]

"Charles, please. Stop running away from me. You know that you can always tell me anything," Edwin says, getting up from his place at his desk.

Charles, who had already started to grab his overcoat and walk out the door, paused for a moment. He whirred around, "No, Edwin. You don't get it, do you? I yelled at you! Just now, after this case because I was annoyed and I got all caught up in it. I yelled at you... I don't do that, 'Win"

He seemed to sag under the weight of his words, momentarily losing his resolve to leave.

"It's okay." Edwin walked over to take his coat and hang it back up. He then walked back and put his hand in Charles' "I don't mind. I know you, Charles, and I know that you didn't mean it." He paused for a moment. He seemed to mull over what he was going to say next. Since his confession on the staircase in Hell, Edwin had begun to choose to be honest more and more often.

"In the spirit of honesty, I must say that I'd let you yell at me or more if it meant we were still together here in our afterlives."

Immediately, Edwin could see it was the wrong thing to have said. He still had some trouble reading Charles, especially when he was in a state of being greatly affected by his own trauma from his life. Crystal had always been better at comforting him and being there for him in that regard, but she wasn't here right now. There was no one for Charles to go to when Edwin inevitable seemed to mess it up.

Charles let go of Edwin's hand and clenched his fists at his sides. "Edwin, no. You can't... If I do something to you..." He trailed off, seemingly unable to finish his thought. Thoughts of his father ran through his head, and his mother's face featured right after.

His mother had stayed with his father for so many years, he had endured his father's actions until he died. He wouldn't wish that upon anyone, especially not Edwin. Never Edwin. And as much as he wished he were sure about the opposite, or that he was certain they weren't qualities that he could inherit, Charles always had that itching thought in the back of his head that he'd turn out just like father, even in his death.

Even though he had seemed like he couldn't quite get the words out, Edwin waited patiently for him to flesh out his thoughts. He took a step closer, to remind Charles that he was there for him.

Finally, he said, "If I ever hurt you, even once, never speak to me again. Tell the Night Nurse to let Death take me, start your own agency, do whatever it takes to get away from me. No matter how sorry I say I am, no matter how many promises I make." Then, quietly, almost like he didn't want him to hear, he added, "I never want you to suffer from me like my mum suffered from my dad."

Silence made the air around them feel heavy and still. Charles took an unnecessary shaky breath and looked away from Edwin. In times where he was vulnerable, Charles hated to look Edwin in the eyes.

"Charles. You will never hurt me. You can't! You don't have a single violent bone in your body. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You are the best person I know, Charles Rowland, and nothing will ever change that." Edwin enveloped Charles into a hug, slowly so that Charles could move away if he wanted.

Instead, he burrowed into Edwin's neck, lips against a non-existent pulse. He stood there, being held in the agency's doorway for what seemed like forever, and he could've stayed there for another eternity.

Eventually, Edwin released him and held him by the shoulders, as Charles often did for him when he felt overwhelmed. "You're too good to be like your dad, Charles, and I will remind you every day if I have to."

And still, Charles seemed to be too overwhelmed to form words, but he nodded his, closing his eyes, and just allowed himself to lean against Edwin for a while.

Because even though Charles may never fully recover, and he'll never forget that fear, Edwin is there to remind him to not be afraid. After all, he's the best person Edwin knows, so he must be pretty great.

@aspiring-wildfire i saw your post abt edwin and charles' worst fears and something abt it just clicked so thanks for the inspiration :)

[atsucry]

Beyond The Thorn Vines

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝐈

Synopsis: A budding friendship between two magical beings, what could possibly go wrong?

tags: Childhood friends-->strangers-->enemies-->???

Malleus Draconia x gn!reader

Additional Info: Both Malleus and reader are children, atleast in this part. Ages 10-12 in fae years. I don't know how to translate that to human years so...you do the math. Also this might be a little ooc.

content: fluff (for now...)

"Who might you be?" The young nymph spoke, peeking their head out of the river to eye the fae, that seemed to be around the same age as them. They've never encountered another person of each other's species before. It seemed that it was their first interaction with another child. Both were pretty much isolated, so it would be awkward to get about how to do this.

The prince twiddled with his thumbs. Perhaps he should've stayed in the confines of his castle, to continue to be isolated…to be surrounded by only gargoyles and walls.

"I am…Malleus. The prince of Briar Valley." It was a sort of balance with confidence and shyness. He'd read about nymphs in storybooks from his grand library.

"Hm…" You hummed. "I am (Y/N)." The child stepped out of the body of water to face and properly converse with the dragon fae.

"So you say you're a Prince? What do you have to do outside your castle?"

"I was just curious." Malleus turned his head to scan his eyes around the area. "And this seems to be within the bounds of my castle…I'm sure I haven’t strayed off so far." This was the first time Malleus actually held a conversation fairly well. Other kids often refused to play with him, not that he knew anyone else at all for the matter. He was only surrounded by adults.

You attempt to approach the boy, he exuded an intimidating yet also timid aura. Continuing to cautiously walk towards him, you reached just a few feet away from him before sitting yourself down on the forest grass. "Do you ever get lonely in that palace you say you live in?"

Malleus watched you speak to him with almost no hesitation, even sitting in front of him to ground yourself. He wasn't used to anyone coming near him without fear or apprehension. So you'd expect this to surprise him. Which he is.

He took a long pause before following your lead to sit down to be on the same level as you—it was strange.

"I only have books and my guardian; Lillia to accompany me. So you can only imagine." He sighed. "I've read about you in one of them before, What can you do?"

"I don't know…what about you?"

Malleus pondered that question for a bit. He was still so young and learning about magic. "I don't know either."

You purse your lips, the awkward tension slowly growing between you two. The only thing that you could relate to him was being sort of isolated and had no one else to play with. "What kind of stories did you read?"

"All sorts."

"Did you enjoy them?"

"Some, yes."

You two continued on with this back and forth question and answer, though, you were the only one asking. It was all just about superficial subjects. some small talk here and there.

You questioned him so much that every sentence practically used every word in the dictionary. All about eachothers endeavours, though little. Simple contact with another person was enough.

You told him all that you knew about your living environment. You only had your mother as company after all, she let you wander off sometimes since she trusted that you wouldn't get yourself in trouble. You knew your way back to her anyways, so it was all just fine. But you rarely get to meet someone else of your age of the same species. Which led to the other nymph ladies to treat you as somewhat royalty.

He seemed unsure whether or not to start asking. He gathered the courage and opened his mouth:

"...Are you the same as me? from the looks of it you don't have any friends either."

"I guess…I mean I can technically talk to water but…It's not really the same as talking to someone…who can talk back."

This information amused the young Prince. "I see." he paused in between. "I take it you live in this river? or some nearby lake?"

"No…I just so happened to be here when you came. I have free reign to explore as much as I want."

You lean back into the soft grass, tapping your fingers against the mushy soil, waiting for him to speak up.

"Free reign and no supervision from anyone else?" He inquired, his eyebrows raised as he leant forward in response.

"Your mom must know that you're somewhat a responsible person."

"I guess so."

"Well, I am a prince—almost all my actions are supervised."

He crosses his arms, looking down. He holds his title up highly of course and knows the responsibility that comes with it and accepts it. But that very same thing he holds proudly is what drives others away, to revere him.

"...So how are you out here then?" You sprung right back into questioning mode.

"The castle is quite large. And the guards know it, of course. They probably still think I'm in my room…studying…" he propped his elbow up on his knee, holding his head in his palm.

When he looked up, he saw that his companion was staring at him peculiarly. What was their deal? He couldn't tell whether they had all or nothing in their head. They looked similar to an owl, it made him almost feel embarrassed.

"I like your company."

He flinched at that sentence, why did he flinch? It wasn't anything scary or anything similar of the sort…just unfamiliar.

"I'd like to play again sometime." You suddenly said outloud. Gathering yourself to stand up with a grunt.

"...Is this your idea of 'playing'?"

"Of course not!" you chuckled, reaching out a hand for him to take. "I'll tell you all the games I know tomorrow…If you're up for it."

A bewildered face looked back up at you, his eyes blinking a few times before finally taking your hand so he could stand, too. He dusted off his pants to clean off any dirt that could give away the idea that he's been outside.

"...I agree to your request. I'll meet you here again, same time tomorrow, that is, if I know my way back to this place…I'll make sure I know my way back here." He promised. "A fae always keeps their word."

"I've seen mortals make 'pinky promises' to solidify the deal. They interlock eachothers smallest fingers at the end of their palm." You curled all fingers but your pinky, holding it out.

"Oh, I see…"

As you both proceeded to pinky promise, the wind around you seems to turn, then calm down. As if the orbit of the world has been reversed with one simple, childish action.

You waved to each other goodbye as you retreated to your respective residence. Disappearing in the shades of the trees and the dark of night. The sound of your footsteps fading away as the moon marked the time of slumber.

Note: scariest experience of my life bru I'm actually writing a series.

Another note if I made any errors please excuse them, this was made on a school night😓

[crystalskiesandcherrywine]

The sound of the waves collide // Part One

Hello everyone, this is my first time writing. I just couldn't stop thinking about Feyd and how his story could have been different. So please don't be too hard on this. This is just the first part and I cannot wait to write more (smutty) chapters.

By the way, I cannot listen to Deftones without thinking of him.

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Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

FxM

All feedback is welcome <3

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You are Paul´s sister and after his love match to Princess Irulan it is on you to marry Na Baron Feyd ratha Harkonnen. And while you fear the unknown, there is a feeling in your gut that it may be more right for you than anything else in the known universe.

Part One // Part Three // Part Four

1.209 words

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There was no turning back once the decision was made. You were destined to marry Feyd Rautha and bear his heir, the Kwizadz Chaderach. It meant leaving behind your home, your family and though you never expected to miss her, even the Reverend Mother who visited your family so often. All the time you had spent learning the ways of the Bene Gesserit, the education your mother had given you it seems like they could continue forever. Only now did you understand the sadness that flickered in your mother's eyes when you complained about the long hours of the voice rehearsing or the never-ending combat training. She knew, even before you were conceived, that they were counted. Time was almost an abstract concept to you - the passing of the day in your home, surrounded by the warmth and love of your family, was such a natural environment f, while your mother knew full well that you would leave them when the time came. 

____

The news of your impending betrothal was so sudden and yet so expected. Paul's marriage to the Princess Irulan had been planned for some time and would take place in two weeks' time. 

"We will travel to the Padisha Empreros home for the celebration." Duke Leto announced. You will also meet your fiancé there. A week after that he will take you to Geidi Prime". 

You nodded briefly - there was no argument. And your pride would not allow it - after all, it would mean disappointing not only your father, but everyone in your family who poured their love, knowledge and kindness into your upbringing and training. But you couldn't help but notice a slight tension in Paul's muscles and jaw as he listened to your father speak.

As you left your father's hall, you took his hands in yours and let him out into the courtyard where you would be undisturbed. Lush green grass swallowed the sound of your footsteps and fresh sea air touched your skin. This palace was always your home and with Paul always at your side it felt like the most safe space in the universe. Not even the test by your Reverend Mother, the danger of the Gom Jabbar at your neck, the pain of the metal box she used could change that.

"Don't worry about me, brother" 

"And yet I do. Feld Ruatha is a brave warrior, but he is not known for his kindness. Rumours of his violent outbursts are well known. And his concubines are said to be vile creatures who feast on human flesh and encourage him to take pleasure in the pain of others. Baron Vladimir has moulded him into a being without fear, but also without pity. He has passed the test as we have, and yet I am not sure he is truly human". 

You felt a mixture of fear and anger rise in you. 

"And yet my fate is sealed, as is yours. There is no way out, so let us not wish for one".

Suddenly, Paul pulled you into an embrace so tight it almost knocked the air out of your lungs. 

"May your heart stay as brave as it is now, dear sister." 

And then you cannot hold back the tears, feeling the sense of security and love that seems to escape you with every passing heartbeat.

___

The preparations for your departure are a whirlwind. Paul's belongings, his books and his swords are gathered, as are yours. When almost everything is packed, you find a small glass box with a tiny fir tree inside and a note from your father, "A bit of home to take with you". Carefully, you place the box on top of the things you have already collected. But then you decide otherwise and place it next to a smaller box containing your jewelry, to be transported to your cabin instead of the cargo. 

Your brother's wedding to Princess Irulan attracts all the Great Houses to the Emperor's planet Kaitain. There are more ships than you can count, and even more navigators from the Space Guild, their faces covered with a sickly cloud of smoke from under their helmets. All of them dependent on spice. The one fabric that seems to bind all your worlds together. With Paul marrying the Irulan princes and taking over Arrakis, the Harkonnens could not simply be cast aside. So the Emperor made your match with his heir Na Baron Feud Rautha. Or so he thinks, and yet it was Bene Gesserit's plan all along. Princess Irulan seems to understand this too, for she sends for you the day after your arrival. You feel honoured by the invitation, but also a little nervous. As soon as you enter her chamber, you curtsy to her. 

"Princess, thank you for the invitation" 

"Please call me Irulan, as we are to be family for three days. Please join me for a walk"

You nod and follow her through the light-filled halls. Hers and your ladies-in-waiting follow close behind.

"I have a present for you," she says, her eyes twinkling. 

You are not sure what to make of it. You are both familiar with the teachings of the Bene Gesserit, and you know that the gift is more than just that. You enter a small room with a single table and a small metal plate on it. "It is a book about the Harkonnen, their house and their planet Geidi Prime. You can find any information that might be useful." Your cheeks flush pink as you realize the meaning. Princess Irulan knows what her love match with Paul has cost you. That he should have been a girl to marry a Harkonnen and yet Lady Jessica decided otherwise and by disobeying her orders made you the one to live on the inhospitable planet.

"Thank you for your generosity, Irulan"

"There is nothing to thank me for," she says, leaving you alone in the room.

As soon as you have returned to your chambers, you will find Lady Jessica waiting for you. 

"You are to meet Feyd Rautha tonight before the banquet."

"I understand." 

"This is your chance to make the right impression. Remember, fear is a small death"

"Yes, mother."

A lush green dress has been laid out for you, with small gold clasps at the shoulders and tiny glass beads forming leaf shapes around the bodice and hood of the dress. As the dress reaches the floor, it still feels as if you are not wearing enough to protect yourself. As your ladies-in-waiting prepare your hair, you try to calm yourself. When all is said and done, your family is summoned to the Emperor's Hall - as soon as you enter it feels like your skin is on fire, you feel like someone is watching you and then your eyes meet a muscular figure standing at the feet of the emperor´s throne. He is more of a statue, perhaps, than he is a man - hairless, with trained muscles and contrasting black uniform and piercing blue eyes. Everything else seems to fade away, narrowed down to this moment, your heartbeat and the intense gaze of Na Baron Feed Rautha Harkonnen.

[maybege]

What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas - FBI 12

Summary: A team night in Vegas forces you to make some decisions.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.5k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, hopeless yearning but what’s new

We are so back! Parts 13 + 14 are finished and 15 is on its way there so I am hoping to sustain a monthly posting schedule into the new year. This is a classic filler chapter because the filler episodes are always the ones I loved the most. Other than that, we are picking up in speed and tension in the next few parts. Let me know what you think, your comments are the fuel for the creative engine!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Considering the kind of work you did, it was weird to speak about “favourite” case types. But you would be lying if you said that reuniting children with their families was not something that made your heart feel full every time. Like you were proven that the sacrifices this job demanded were always – always – worth it in the end. That they served a purpose.

But no matter how much joy it brought to see little Ryan reunited with his mother after his father suffered a psychotic break, the lack of sleep made you feel like you could sleep for 72 hours straight. Especially since you had been on three back-to-back cases and your phone was filled with voicemails from your mother.

Hotch’s announcement that you would stay in Vegas for the night then came as a welcome distraction to the entire team.

“I am going to take the longest shower the state of Nevada has ever seen,” Garcia announced in the car on your way back to the hotel and you grinned, agreeing with her in your mind.

“I've never actually been to Vegas,” you admitted to JJ who was sitting in the backseat next to you, “Do you guys, like, do you go out or what’s the plan? It sounds like you have a routine going on.”

“The best routine, sweetheart,” Morgan announced from where he was driving. His smiling eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror, “And I think it will probably start with you getting that shower you mentioned.”

*

“Let’s do shots! Shots sound like a good idea!”

“Everything sounds like a good idea in Las Vegas,” JJ argued but she did not protest when Emily waved down the waiter.

Three rounds later you were pleasantly buzzed, precariously balancing in your heels as you wandered along the Caesars Mall in a dress that might as well double for a mirror ball. Getting ready with Penelope Garcia had been the most chaotic, wholesome and validating experience of your life and you had left the hotel room feeling beautiful and ready to – in Garcia’s words – conquer the night.

One thing you hadn’t anticipated though was that conquering the night in Las Vegas meant walking. Lots and lots of walking.

The fake cobbled stone made your feet unsteady and you giggled, hooking your arm through Emily’s without another thought. You felt her tense up next to you and looked up, wondering if maybe you had crossed a line. Only it wasn’t Emily who looked back at you.

It was Hotch.

Fear and shock made your eyes widen and you suddenly became very aware of just how close you were to him. How overt this show of affection could be read and how inappropriate you were being considering this was your boss.

Shit shit shit shit.

Your brain immediately went into crisis-solving mode and the first step was crystal clear: Get your hands off your (very attractive) boss.

But then his hand landed on yours, keeping your arm around his and you tried to hide your surprise with a wide smile.

“Let’s go get something to eat!” Rossi announced, well aware that no one on the team would ever deny the idea of food, “I have an old friend who owns a restaurant here. I am sure he would be able to get us a table.”

After everybody showed sufficient amounts of enthusiasm for his plan, the group made their way to the other end of the mall. Which should not be as big of a deal as it was but cobblestones were not your friend today.

“A bit shaky there, hm?” Hotch mumbled when you took a careful step down a small step of stairs, a smirk on his lips that made you feel warm all over, “Should I start to call you Bambi?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huffed, tightening your hold on his arm nonetheless, “I am perfectly fine.”

“You sure you don’t need to be going back to the hotel?” he checked with you but did not sound too concerned when his hand wrapped around yours, guiding you down the last step and following the group.

“No way, sir,” you shook your head, “A night out with the entire team in Vegas? I am not going to miss it for the world.”

His large hand squeezed yours slightly and you saw the soft smile on his lips that made your heart flutter in your chest like a hoard of butterflies. You were both silent as you followed Rossi’s lead and you allowed yourself to take in the atmosphere.

The dim lighting and cool air really did make it feel like you were strolling through some Italian streets at twilight if it weren’t for the several high-end stores that were neatly lined together. But as you crossed the threshold to the casino part of the hotel, the carpeted floor did little to dim the noise of the hundreds of partygoers flocking around the cocktail bars, poker tables and slot machines.

Rossi was right about his friend having a table for your group and before you knew it, you were sipping on a glass of white wine and munching on the most delicious bruschetta you had ever tasted.

“Rossi, have I ever told you you're my favourite?” Derek joked, his mouth still working on the bite of pasta he had just taken.

“Hey!” Garcia exclaimed, delivering a slap to his upper arm, “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you important information no other hacker could provide.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby girl,” he grinned, playfully snapping his teeth at her. Everybody laughed at their antics and you tried to ignore how a particular set of laughter made your thighs clench.

Get your act together, girl.

The dinner was fun, really, and you found that you could not get enough of spending time with the team. There was so much affection, kindness and hilarious banter between them, it reminded you of the found families you studied in your literature courses.

Maybe the BAU was one of those cases in real life.

No one could ever tell you it wasn’t affection that made Rossi order different pasta dishes for everyone at the table or that caused Reid to explain the surface ratio of different pasta types or that had Emily and JJ order not one but two bottles of the house-recommended wine. It was affection that had Garcia put her head on your shoulder when she was drowsy after dinner and it was affection that twinkled in Hotch’s eyes when he asked you if you’d like a dessert.

“I would never say no to some panna cotta,” you spoke truthfully, “Wanna share?”

He stood up, throwing you a smile. “I will get some from the counter up front.”

To avoid looking at him leave (and the formidable form he was making in that dark suit), you pulled out your phone. You never really got to check it while on a case, so your social media feeds were usually full of new stuff you got to scroll through before you came home. You watched Josh post about some dinners and spotted the @thefabulousamber tag that appeared several times in his stories. And there was John posting some pictures about a run along the river and your school friends, all reuniting back home.

“Interesting,” a deep voice rumbled behind you, “tell me, what exactly are we looking at?”

You turned in your chair, spotting Hotch. He was standing behind you, leaning down to watch what you wanted to show him on your phone and your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his lips ghost over your ear. He was so close. His hands landed on the table in front of you, effectively caging you in and yet you made no move to shy away from him.

 “It’s a cat video,” you said to him with a smile, “look how cute it is!”

“Very cute indeed,” he smiled, looking down at you, “Do you have any cats at home?”

“I wish,” you sighed, “but Josh is allergic and I don’t know if I can justify getting a cat when I am gone all the time.”

“Sounds like you are not really settled.”

“Huh?”

“You’re the newest member of our team and are not from here. A pet usually symbolizes a commitment to one’s current life aside from romantic or platonic relationships.”

“You don’t have any pets.”

“I have a child,” he reminded you before you both burst into laughter at the sight of Reid trying to juggle six different wine corks.

*

It wasn’t even five hours later that your alarm blared in your ears and Garcia – where had she even come from? And especially when? – stirred next to you.

“Five more minutes,” she grumbled, mistakenly patting on your legs in search of her glasses, “Please.”

You squinted your eyes at the display of your phone, trying to ignore the stale taste in your mouth. “I don’t think we have five more minutes,” you stated, forcing yourself out of bed. Why was everything turning?

Oh no, that was you.

You landed with a thud on your knees, the vibration travelling from your joints to your head and you groaned. “I will never drink again,” you muttered. Pressing your hands to your closed eyes, somehow dulled the throbbing in your head.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

You could do this. One step at a time. Time … What was it about time that was so important?

Your head shot up, “We need to leave in like 30 minutes.”

“Oh shit,” you could hear the rustling of the bed sheets as Penelope rolled alone, unsteadily landing on her feet, still wearing her yellow tights from the night before, “Let’s go, bestie, we have bags to pack!”

No training in the world could have prepared you for packing your bags, brushing your teeth and downing three glasses of water within 25 minutes. By the time you had made it down to the lobby and into the cars, you were convinced others could hear your head pound which was why Emily offered you the painkiller before popping one in herself.

All in all, it seemed the entire team was a little worse for wear as you filed into the plane.

All except for one.

“You know the German word for hangover Kater translates into cat but actually it comes from the Old-Greek Katarhh which means to have a cold and was commonly used by 19th century philosophy students after indulging too much.”

“Oh, shut up, Reid,” you groaned, “You drank just as much. How can your head still be this functional?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt bad. Spencer looked at you like a kicked puppy and you sighed. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, reaching out your hand to pat his knee where he was sitting opposite you, “That was uncalled for.”

The leather of the seat next to you creaked and even with your headache, you recognized the shape and warmth of your boss instantly. His upper arm brushed against yours, the fabric of his suit jacket warming against your bare skin.

Your heart skipped a beat at seeing the smile on his lips. Aaron Hotchner, for just the barest of seconds, looked genuinely happy like this and you wondered what he was thinking, what he was seeing. Whether he listened to how Rossi kept talking about some pasta dish you’d never heard of, hands gesturing as he talked to Garcia, or if he was watching Reid and JJ trading plane reads or watching Emily try and get a hold of her cat sitter.

“I’ve heard water is supposed to help.”

You flinched when his voice sounded much too close to your ear, his breath washing down the side of your neck and making you dream of scenarios where his mouth was so close to your neck for other reasons.

“Don’t scream at me,” you mumbled, holding your forehead. There was an uncharacteristic grin on his face that made you want to squint your eyes at him. He seemed so … bright.

“I gather it’s been a long night?”

“Do not come between Penelope Garcia and a bottle of tequila,” you muttered,” just don’t.”

“I could say the same about Rossi and a good whiskey.”

“You don’t look as if you had that long of a night.”

“I drank my water,” he teased, closing the file in front of him, “And admittedly a few more years of practice are worth everything when you drink with either of them.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you hummed, leaning back against the soft seat, “at least we have our own private jet. Thank God for the American taxpayer.”

Hotch didn’t say anything but when you opened your eyes again he was looking at you – and smiling. Aaron Hotchner was smiling at you. You felt the blood rush into your face and you tried to sit up a little straighter, a wave of nausea crashing over you and you whimpered. You’d never ever drink after a case with her again. How did Derek survive until now?

“Here,” you opened your eyes to the sight of a thick hand pushing a glass of water to you on the table, “Drink some more.”

You hid your smile against the rim of the glass.

Maybe everything would change for the better now.

*

Six days later, though, your happiness was shattered into a thousand pieces. Apparently, Aaron Hotchner took What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas literally. Because not only did he act like your flirtation (if you could even call it that) never happened – which was something you had expected all along – but he also acted as if your friendship did not exist.

You were not sure what hurt worse: the fact that you allowed yourself to dream about what this could mean or the fact that he seemed so unaffected by pretending things had never changed from three months ago.

You found yourself floating into the office each morning with a smile, hoping that maybe he was just in a bad mood. That his little comments would start again. That he would correct you when you called him Sir. And each evening, you found yourself sitting at your desk, shoulders falling inwards as you started your way home with a feeling of dread in your belly.

It was not long before the doubt crept back in. Did something happen that made him think you were unworthy, not necessarily of this job, but of him? And why did it matter to you anyway? Yes, he was a good-looking (very good-looking) man whose voice sent shivers down your spine and who made more than one appearance in your dreams, sure. But that did not mean you deserved to let the whims of course crush dictate the way your day was going.

Or your job, for that matter.

Either way, it was absolute bullshit and after another day during which he simply passed your desk without so much as a “Good morning” you found yourself googling flights to Idaho and dialling a number you knew by heart since the age of five.

“Hi, hun,” your mother greeted you on the side of the phone, “How are you doing?”

“Hi Mom,” you mumbled as you clicked on the first available flight, “About that visit we were talking about … how soon can I come?”

[adhd-mess]

Okay, so I’ve seen people coming up with scenarios abt if Solas and Varric were stuck in the Fade together and now I’m imagining if Alistair and Solas were locked in the Fade together.

I wrote at 2 am so if it’s out of character that’s why

Alistair: “Sooo you’re an elven god?”

Solas: *sighs* “Yes.”

Alistair: “Huh.” Contemplative silence. “Can’t you just use your godly powers to zap us back out—uhm respectfully, your….godliness?”

Solas: “Unfortunately I cannot.”

Alistair: “Oh.”

A pause.

Solas: “Do not refer to me as that.”

Alistair. “As what…oh. Well then what shall I refer to you as?”

Solas: “Solas. Just Solas.”

Alistair: “Feels wrong to refer to….I’ll shut up.”

More silence.

Alistair: “So, if I may ask?”

Solas: “Why ask when you’re going to ask it anyway.”

Alistair: *a nervous laugh* “Which god are you? Of the elven pantheon I mean. I know you’re not Mythal.”

Solas: “Fen’harel.”

Alistair. “Ohh. The-the dreadwolf? Right. Riiiight.” Muttering, “of course I’m locked away with the dreadwolf.”

Solas: “You seem well versed in the elven gods for a human.”

Alistair: “Well, if we’re sharing histories, my mother was an elf and I had the fortunate experience of meeting a few elves.” A pause. “Though I don’t know if I’d say I had the fortune of meeting one of them. Take my advice, an assassination attempt is a bad first impression.”

Solas: *a dry chuckle*

If Alistair and Solas are both romanced by the player:

Alistair: “If I don’t die here I’m so going to be dead when I—we get out.” A soft melancholic smile. “I can hear their chiding through the Fade.”

Solas: “You are speaking of your so called Hero of Ferelden, I presume?”

Alistair: “Yes.”

Solas: “I was not aware Wardens had kin; does it not go against your oath?”

Alistair: “Foolish, we were. So incredibly foolish.”

Solas: “I would not doubt it. I’d say say your still foolish; it’s the nature of your kind.”

Alistair: “Yeah yeah. Yknow you sound so much like an old…friend of mine.

Alistair bitterly: “I guess I answered her question.”

Alistair: *scoffs*

Alistair: “Why did I allow myself to get close to them and them to me? Young and childish thinking we could be the exception. I knew how it’d end. How it ends for every Grey Warden. And now their alone. Because of me.”

Alistair: “Uhhh sorry, didn’t mean to diatribe.”

More contemplative silence.

Solas: “Your foolishness is admirable.”

Alistair sarcastically: “Thanks.”

Solas: “You allow yourselves these things that will inevitably be torn away from you convincing yourself that you’re the exception. Why?”

Alistair: “Why? The future is not now. You cannot always fear the future. Because the right now is what counts.….right, of course.”

Alistair: “I was wrong earlier. We knew we the risks, that our time was limited, and despite that we chose each other. In spite of death or duty—everything. Until then it’d be us.”

Solas, absently: “But they didn’t know….”

Alistair: “Know what?”

Alistair, waggling his eyebrows: *gasps* “Wait, hold on, do you have someone?”

Solas scoffs, averting his eyes:

Alistair: “Oh my Maaabari—Mabari! You do? Who is it?”

Alistair: “Wait wait. Hold on, lemme guess.”

Solas: *a deep sigh*

Alistair: “Hmm, it’s the Inquisitor, isn’t it? Don’t even know why I asked to guess, it’s waaay to obvious with how you look at each other.”

Solas: “Are you ever quiet?”

Alistair: “Sooo what happened?”

Solas: “If I tell you will you finally be quiet?”

Alistair: “Maybe.”

*a lengthy explanation later*

Alistair: “Wait. That would make them the Herald of Solas…or no, the Herald of Fen’harel, wouldn’t it? It’s got a nice ring to it.”

Solas: *his face is turning red from embarrassment or anger or both*

Alistair: “You’re blushing!”

—

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

A Freak and a Basket Case: An Eddie Munson x Fem!Hispanic!Reader

Chapter One - Seek and Destroy

After many years of being unable to connect in a personal way with reader insert fiction across all genres, I’ve decided to make an insert where I’m forcing you to eat a concha, speak a little Spanish and be absolutely weird. I’m a short Hispanic chick who was a loser in high school bro. I admire other writers here in the fandom who have every confidence in me being a bombshell badass, but I’m not her. This one’s for my Hispanic/Latina no sabo girlies who never beat the weird kid allegations and who never fit right into any mold. Con mucho amor. ❤️

[Masterlist] - Chapter One (You are here) - Chapter Two

***

Hawkins, Indiana was going to be hell on earth, of that, you were certain.

You did not want to move here in the first place. This whole situation was horseshit. Spur of the moment pendejadas from the family matriarch in command of a newly formed triad. The family did not need a fresh start over in a new home, everyone needed to start looking harder. Expanding the search area. Keeping the name in the media. Doing something about the rampant corruptions and blatant conspiracy afoot.

So you were going to do what you did best: shut out the entire world, and focus inward.

I will not hold fear… Fear is the mind killer…

“Sit up right huevona! You’re going to mark my seats.”

You slid your feet off the seat, hoping deliberately that your shoes left marks. You were looking out the window with a scowl. You wanted to be anywhere but here, in this piece of shit town…

Your mother obviously noticed the scowl, as she sighed deeply before trying to talk to you again.

“I know you’re not happy, but this is a new start for us. Try to make the best of it, yeah?”

“And why couldn’t we just have moved somewhere else in New Mexico?! Chingao, you didn’t even think about it, you just put your finger on the map and ya!”

“Watch your mouth.” Your mother snapped. “And you know it wasn’t just putting a finger and ya. We needed a fresh start, and Hawkins was the best choice we could make. It wasn’t as impulsive as you make it out to be, it’s what’s best for all three of us.”

“And what the hell about dad?!” You demanded. “Huh?! How the shit do we continue doing our part if we’re all far away?!”

Your mother’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, eyes narrowing as she drove. Your words had obviously hit a raw nerve. It had only been a year and some change… The changes hadn’t even had time to settle before the move came.

“What’s done is done. How many times am I going to have to go through this?! It’s been over a year, it’s time to accept he’s not coming back. Basta!”

“Bullshit…” You hissed, quietly resigning yourself to silence as you knew any further provocation would start another fight you didn’t want to hear.

The Dodge Aspen continued down the unfamiliar streets. Even though the realtor had boasted about the minimal commute to the schools, with traffic and the morning commute, Hawkins managed to turn a ten-minute drive into almost forty-five minutes. Luckily, your mom had anticipated this. By five am that morning your mother was already blasting a mix of oldies on her eight track, banging on your bedroom door and setting off the barking of your family’s two dogs. Tiffany had almost tripped you in the bathroom when you stumbled in to use the hair dryer brush on your unruly hair, Scruffy had refused to go outside into the dog run, and the family cat Rhett had puked all over your brother Jaime’s work pants while he screamed at you to help him find another pair. Useless from years of mi hito syndrome.

It had been a shitshow of a morning, an omen of things to come.

Your mother blasted the horn at a green Chevy that nearly sideswiped her, trying to cut in front of her.

“Pinches babosos!” Your mother growled under your breath, but you were too pissed off to care about your normally prim mother’s little slip up.

The two of you stayed in silence for some time, until you spoke up.

“You couldn’t have picked somewhere with raza at least? Like California?” You muttered, “A la chingada mujer.”

“What does it matter if there’s no raza here?!” Your mother demanded. “There’s no way we could have managed in California, and Hawkins Elementary was the only district hiring for my preferred grade. I wasn’t going to kill myself working with middle schoolers in Lynwood!”

“But serio mom?! Right at the start of senior year, you didn’t want to wait until I graduated?”

“With the way you were acting, you were on your way to getting held back for the year.” Your mother hissed, clearly fed up with your bullshit. “So shut your mouth and quit complaining.”

You shut your mouth. What could you say to that? Your mother was right.

A lot had changed in the past year. You were now compulsive in your actions, self-soothing in the oddest ways as old, pre-established habits became worse or new symptoms developed. Pacing up and down the hallway of the old house listening to music on full blast was not anything new, chewing on your clothes was, as was the rebellion of dying all of the new clothes your mom bought you some shade of black or gray. You had always been a bit of a space case, living in your imagination as a kid and reading your weird books or bothering your parents with stories of aliens and weird monsters, but that had all been innocent fun. Science fiction books and fairy movies did not a troubled teen make, but lately that vivid imagination was shrouded in grimdark. Obsessive thoughts, spiteful biting comments, lashing out and isolating away from everyone... This was not normal. This was not your normal.

The reasonably happy, vibrant kid that your mother knew was gone. Instead replaced by a bitter, angry young adult at eighteen years of age that had your innocence ripped traumatically away from you too young.

I will not hold fear… Fear is the mind killer…

This was not how senior year was supposed to go. Senior year was supposed to be the last hoorah. A happy time to start preparing for reality. For college plans. Not a time to be stuck in a small Midwestern town that felt like a foreign country.

The scenery of green trees scattered among the brick-and-mortar buildings of Hawkins held no interest for you. Normally you would be excited at all the greenery, the majority of your life spent staring at the same desert scrubs and adobe houses. Hawkins had four seasons, New Mexico had maybe two, but you would have given up four seasons and Midwestern charm for the sand and red clay mountains any day. New Mexico was closer to what was important.

New Mexico was closer to dad…

It only got worse from there as the car approached the high school. Your mom pulled into the drop lane; the car still idle as she stared you down with a hard gaze.

“Mija, I know this isn’t ideal. But you’re strong. You’re going to do fine. Just please… Please try to make the best of this situation. Do it for me, huh?”

Absolutely no move was made to exit the vehicle despite the impatience of the cars still waiting to exit the drop off lane. You stared at the collective student body of Hawkins High with disdain, downright disgust even. As if you would rather swallow glass than get out of the Dodge. You began chewing on the sleeve of your large jacket, already sweltering under layers of clothes even though the summer mornings in Hawkins were balmy at 85 degrees with high humidity.

“Stop chewing on it mensa, you’re going to ruin the sleeve!” Your mother said, swatting your hand.

You moved the cuff away from your mouth but said nothing, instead fishing in the pocket for your Walkman. When you pulled it out, you opened the tape deck and rooted through your backpack, yanking out a cassette tape from the depths and popping it in. The volume was up so high that your mother scowled when she heard what was blasting from the orange foam speakers of your headphones when you pressed the play button.

“Come on mija, you couldn’t pick something happier for your first day at a new school?”

“Nope.” you growled, pushing the Walkman into your pocket. “I’m not picking shit else. I’m going to play this fucking tape so loud, that everyone is going to stay far the fuck away from me.”

The bite in your tone was unmistakable. You were more afraid than angry.

Despite your mother’s sputtering protests and grabbing hands, you unbuckled yourself, threw open the car door, slung your backpack over your shoulder and slammed the car door on the way out.

Your arrival at school was not exactly on the best of terms, and already you were making enemies out of the majority preppy crowd of Hawkins High. Stomping your way through throngs of students to the front office for your locker assignment and school timetable, bumping the shoulders of anyone who got in your way, nearly sending some lanky string bean of a freshman flying into his little group of friends.

The hell with everyone you figured. Kick rocks. Kiss my ass. Fuck yourself with a bent tire iron.

I will not hold fear… Fear is the mind killer…

You hoped the coordination of the day would repel everyone too. Unlike everyone else who had set up their first day back ensembles with care the night before, you came to school in a black cardigan over top a gray linen dress, black tights layered with dirty socks, beat up Chuck Taylors that had been everywhere from White Sands to TRC, and your hair half assed done.

The piece de resistance was the jacket. Even though it was the end of August, you wore a large Carhartt jacket over your ensemble. Your headphones were on, your Walkman was blasting so loud that the music could be heard when you walked, and your scowl was so menacing that you could not help but lunge at and startle a few innocent girls in pastel color culottes as they passed you by. It was your one line of defense; to deter the general populace of Hawkins High you had decided to be a goddamned menace.

It was unfortunate really, because no matter how hard you tried to deter everyone away from you, it took you maybe the first ten minutes of trying to find your classes to realize that Hawkins High, home of the Tigers, had fangs that could snap even the most ironclad of wills.

You were drastically underprepared for the high schooler’s reception to your take no shit attitude. One big dude you shoulder checked ended up checking you right back into the tan lockers, the crash of your body into the metal was loud and embarrassing, causing a gaggle of girls to point and laugh. They said hateful, evil, ignorant shit as they passed, screaming it into your ear or yanking your headphones right off your ears so you would be forced to listen. The name calling cut deep to the core too. One girl even called you a slur to your face, a foot flashed out from some wastoid and nearly sent you toppling to the ground had your oversized jacket not caught on the door handle to the girl’s bathroom.

It was fucking humiliating. You wanted everyone to go away and leave you alone, and your rebellious attempts at being a badass only ended up attracting every kind of attention you did not want.

You hid in the girl’s bathroom, pushing passed a girl in a blue sundress and a strawberry blonde side ponytail to lock yourself in a stall. The tears could not wait until you were sure the bathroom was empty, you began to sob uncontrollably, loud and unashamed, the noises so awkward you did not hear the whispers of the other girls as they exited the facilities.

Fuck this day. Fuck this town. You wanted out. If you could just run away now and hitchhike with the first car you saw today, you would do it.

Dainty footsteps approached your stall as you bawled like a baby, a soft knock making you freeze.

“Go away!” you cried, voice small and hoarse from the sobbing.

“… Hey it’s… It’s going to be okay…”

A soft, delicate voice only foretold by a pair of blue high heels at the opening of the bottom of the stall. You did not know the girl, nor did you want to.

“Go away…” you begged, face burning with embarrassment as you groveled for your freedom. “Please… Please just go away and leave me alone!”

The shoes hesitated, but eventually walked away. Leaving you to your pity party.

I will not hold fear… Fear is the mind killer…

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes cabrona. Quien te tiene?

You could already hear the criticism from your mother in your mind as the late bell rang and everyone had cleared out of the bathroom to their first period class. With your glasses all smudged up from tears and snot, you exited the stall with your tail between your legs, cleaning up at the sink and washing your face clean before you made up your mind. You were not going to class today or ever again, every part of your mind was made up. Now it would only be a matter of time to find an out. Maybe you could walk home, steal Jaime’s ranfla or the Dodge Aspen to make your escape, probably the Aspen since it was less inconspicuous and would blend into the sea of cars on the freeway better than a blue 1972 Chevy Monte Carlo that was well loved. Besides, the Chevy was out of the question until Jaime got back from work at the Hawkins Water Utility, and you were not going to wait that long for him to come home and stop you. The elementary school was a closer walk, and as you walked out of the girls bathroom without checking if the coast was clear, you put your headphones on to drown out all outside distractions and blasted your Walkman to formulate how you were going to break into and hotwire your mom’s car (you knew how to do neither of these things).

As you were walking, you heard nothing. Saw only the school entrance doors ahead of you, but that did not mean you were not still jumpy and traumatized from before. You were walking quickly, unaware of the noise you were making and drastically underprepared for the biggest shock of your life.

You felt yourself being snagged by the strap of your backpack, an iron grip on your shoulders summoned a scream so loud that it hurt your throat and made you jump nearly ten feet. Your headphones were yanked from your ears, and a low voice with hot breath was in your ear muttering words that would drastically change your life.

“You’ve got bitchin’ taste in music there, princess.”

“FUCK ME FREDDY!”

[readychilledwine]

Flight Patterns - pt 3

Summary - After years of hushed whispers and leads, Azriel has finally found Cassian's lost sister, Aerilyn. What he found with her was unexpected, though.

Warnings - none in my mind

A/N - answering a question a few people had in this one while also sending a warning. 👀

Word count - *polished nails* 4,254

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

3 weeks later-

Aerilyn was biting her tongue as Rhys showed her the sentences he wanted her to work on pronouncing. He looked so satisfied and smug, handing her the parchment that simply stated,

"Rhysand is the most intelligent High Lord."

"Rhysand is the most handsome High Lord."

"Rhysand is the most powerful High Lord." 

The dam that was her patience with holding this uneducated act up was breaking. She had spent the past 3 weeks training with them, eating with them, and being forced to endure this. Complimenting the beautiful, cruel, kind, everything male in front of her while he did paperwork. She had noted during these quiet moments between them, each affirmation she gave him caused tension to leave his brow, his shoulders to relax. She was, in his mind, an unknowing voice setting aside each deep set fear he had. 

And Aerilyn was tired of that. No matter how much she agreed with each sentence proclaiming his delightful nature deep down in her soul.

She leaned back into her chair, clicking her tongue and caved. "You are quite full of yourself, aren't you?" Rhysand paused, looking up at her from his reports with wide eyes. "Do not get me wrong, you are exquisite and the Mother definitely took her time carving you out of whatever fine marble she found, but have you looked at Helion?"

His jaw dropped before he school his reaction and sat back. "So you can speak."

"Clearly," she answered dryly. 

"How long did you plan on playing this little game of yours, Aerilyn?" He leaned his forearms on the table in front of him. "How long did you plan on being a pretty little liar?"

She leaned forward, facing his challenge and staring at him to eye level. "Until you three were dumb enough to leave me alone and we could get out, but that's clearly pointless when you are the most intelligent high lord, isn’t it?" She sensed something from him, pouring into that string that connected them. She could not tell if it was pride, arousal, or a combination of both, but it made her lip curl in what she lied to herself as being annoyance. 

He purred to her, "You are a smart little thing, aren't you, darling?" 

Aerilyn growled in response.  "Do not condescend me." 

Rhys kept a straight face to hide the absolute lust and need he was feeling. "I am not condescending you, darling. I genuinely mean that. You are both little and intelligent." 

Rhys moved closer to her, caging her between the sidearm of the couch and himself. “Won't dear Azriel be oh so surprised the female he's been making notes for me on can speak? Or your brother, Cassian, oh so thrilled he can actually communicate with you, tell you every damned word that's been eating him alive for over a month now?”

She looked away, guilt showing in her eyes as the floor. “Or your mate,” he spoke softer this time, gently forcing her to look at him. “Who wanted nothing more than to get to know you, to learn how to care for you, to learn how you'd like to be loved? how do you think this secret of yours makes him feel?” 

Aerilyn didn't understand the weight of his words. Nor what a mate was. He used terms of endearment for her frequently she never understood. “My mate,” “my stars,” “mine,”  or constantly calling her “Aerilyn Darling,” as if he was taking some weird ownership of her.

And deep down it had started to set a soft warmth in her heart. “I do not know what this mate term you use means, but you'll have to forgive a female for thinking of survival, not of the comfort of 3 males.”

His face fell then, eyes losing all sparkle as if someone had turned off the night sky. Aerilyn felt sick inside at the sight of it. “You do not know what mates are?” she nodded in confirmation and watched as he moved away from her, shaking off the disappointment radiating from him before moving forward. “Would you like to tell them? Or shall I?”

Aerilyn swallowed, her mind racing. “I will.”

“Good answer.” He stood, leaving her alone in the library.

Aerilyn took the report he had left, curling into the arm of the couch and running through it. He eyes moved the the stack he had left then, noting how each was just messily thrown into the pile. She began sorting them then. Reports from the Camps and Steepes in one time, reports from Azriel in another, reports from Cassian in one. She had them by date, urgency, context. It wasn't much, but it was a small apology as a shadow came and rested on her shoulder announcing it's master's approach.

Azriel stares at the sorted reports, a brow going up. “Did you do this for him?”

Aerilyn closed her eyes. He was expecting a nod and got this instead. “I did. He's ridiculously unorganized.”

Azriel took the chair across from her, a small smirk playing on his face. “You just won me a lot of money.”

Aerilyn looked at him, her brows knitted together. There was not a ounce of anger in the male, nor sign of hurt. Just a small playful smile. “You aren't mad?”

He shook his head. “We all knew. Rhys has been purposely picking large eloquent words since you accidently called Cassian a vacuous prideful jerk for body slamming you when you were beating him hand to hand. The three of us had bets on when you'd drop the act.”

He paused a shadow whispering something to him before continuing. “You held up the feral gremlin act well, though. Destroying the kitchen was my personal favorite scene. We are still finding sugar in places it should not be.”

He leaned forward, eyes on you. “Now little sister,” a line drawn in the sand softly, “can you tell me when your mate is beating training dummies so-” he trailed off watching your face before leaning back with his answer. “You don't know what mates are, do you? Your face says the things your mouth won't. It was part of how I've figured out the act.”

She made another slightly insulted face, one that made Azriel chuckle, a rare full smile appearing. “Cassian does the same thing, sweetness. Don't worry. Now the topic at hand, the mating bond is a sacred thing. It's rare and typically only given to the most powerful of fae. It's supposed to bring you to your other half, your equal, your one true fae. It allows you to feel each other, to know each other on a deeper level, and to communicate without words.” 

He had a dreamy far off look as he glanced out the window at the stars. “I've wished for one every year at Starfall, solstice, and with every birthday candle.”

“That's a lot of candles,” Aerilyn interrupted before shooting her hand to her mouth. Azriel's brows rose up to his hairline, “Cauldron, you and Cassian even have the same sense of humor. Fuck me,” he chuckled again, the noise ringing like a soft bell in her ears. “Anyways, mating bonds are created by the Mother and Cauldron to ensure strong off spring, but Rhys, Cassian, and I always wanted more for our mates. We want to love them, fully and completely. We want them to truly be our equals, hence him having you sit with him while he does his high lord work. We want them to know we support them and want them to feel they matter. That they are more than prized mares to be bred, also hence me keeping track of things that make you happy, sad, foods you enjoy.”

Azriel took her hand. “Rhys wants you to feel warm, welcome, wanted, and loved here, and you are sweetness. I need to go before he breaks his knuckles. Dinner will be in 30 minutes.” 

Aerilyn went to her room, sitting on her bed as she processed the information Azriel had handed her on a silver platter. She played with that string softly, wrapping it around her finger once, then twice. She knew it would not be hard to love him, nor to be loved by him. Rhys had shown her nothing but kindness since the incident with Enlil. He had even offered to fly her to them tomorrow, an offer she hoped still stood after feeling his broken spirits cloud her mind and soul. 

Rhys sat still on the training grounds, Cassian and Azriel next to him. He could feel each slight twitch, stroke, and caress of the bond, causing his heart ache to set into dread more and more. “She knows about the tether,” he said softly. “Which means she unknowingly has been pulling it since she didn't know what it was.”

Cassian ran a hand up and down his brother's back. “She wasn't raised with mom like we were, Rhys. She was left to survive alone, to educate herself among who knows what level or type of fae, and kept away from society. Her knowing about the bond and how they work would have been surprising.” They both watched as Azriel rocked on his feet and made a straight lined face. “Azriel, you didn't.” 

 “She was confused,” he justified. “I couldn't leave her like that. Just sitting there, confused and hurt, sorting through your mountain of reports.”

Rhys almost comically perked up, his eyes reignited with the affection he already held for his mate. “She sorted my reports?”

Aerilyn was silent at dinner, pushing her potatoes around the plate while the three males spoke. Cassian was the last to find out she could speak to and understand them. He had not been mad, he was thrilled in all honesty. Picking her up and spinning her as he cried tears of joy. Aerilyn rested her head on his shoulder, smiling as he kissed her forehead. “Not hungry, sis?”

She shrugged softly, “Tired. And I hate potatoes. It was the one thing I could steal from camps that they didn't notice so we ate just potatoes for months once.”

Cassian felt his stomach dropping. He knew that feeling all too well. The wondering when your next meal would could. The pain from portioning servings meant to be one meal into multiple. It killed him inside knowing his sister had gone through that just outside of their reach. 

He reached over, grabbing another piece of grilled chicken and setting it on her plate. Rhys pushed him the mixed steamed vegetables, She wants these. He took her potatoes, scapping them onto his own plate before loading the steamed broccoli, carrots, and cauliflower onto her plate. She'd also like to try wine, but is scared.

So give her a little wine, Cassian suggested back. Show her you've noticed.

Rhys studied his mate, noting her typical food choices and likes as he made a choice. He stood, going to the bar where several open bottles sat away from the brothers, preventing them from drinking heavily and getting too drunk when they were set to visit drakes the next day. 

His hand lingered on the Day Court white, giving her less than half a pour, and walking it to her. “I think you will like this one. If you don't, it's Azriel's favorite.” 

Azriel looked longingly at the bottle. “You could just bring it here.”

“We promised her an early morning flight to her bond,” Rhys sat cooly, watching as she sniffed the wine. “We need to be on our toes and clear minded for that.”

Aerilyn paused. “We're still going?”

“Of course, darling, I made you a promise.” 

Aerilyn was to her feet immediately, going over to Rhys and tilting his head slightly to kiss a stumbled cheek. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, my darling. Now eat. I know you want the broccoli.”

Rhys shot awake in the middle of the night, panic that wasn't his own flooding him. It had become a constant now that she was here, now that after years of searching and unanswered prayers to the Mother he had found her. Rhys stood up pulling on a pair of sweatpants before walking to her room. 

Azriel telling her about what the bond did had benefits, and this was one. He didn't have to continue ignoring her fear, her nightmares, her wakeless dreams. He entered her room to find her still asleep, tossing and turning and sat on her bed beside her, entering her mind to calm her. His hand moved through her tangled hair, gently pulling each catch apart before he caved, laying beside her and holding her as she fell into a deeper sleep. She turned in his arms, head burying itself into his chest as he continued to play with her hair. 

He might regret it in the morning, but Rhys fell asleep there, in her room, holding her safely in his arms. 

Aerilyn ran a hand along her sheets, eyes still closed as she reached for a body that wasn't there. She sat up, disappointment settling in like a cold ache. He was there, she knew he was there. His scent still lingered to the soft fabrics, to her skin. 

She shoved that feeling down. Ignoring it like she had all other draws to him. 

The draw to be near him.

The need to be held by him.

The need to please him.

Aerilyn wasn't a stranger to love, nor courtship. She had grown up among married pairs, always the odd ball out. She had watched illyrian males woo and sweet talk females into their beds as she sat in the woods. 

But nothing ever seemed like this. Nothing she had witnessed was this. This weird fated and decided thing she had no control over. 

This weird fated and decided thing eventually only handed to powerful and special fae.

There was nothing special about Aerilyn. That was something she knew from staring at herself in the mirror and strapping on the black illyrian leathers. She wasn't a great beauty like Mor, wasn't intelligent like Cassian, wasn't useful like Azriel, nor did she have some hidden beast buried below her skin like Amren. 

Aerilyn believed she just was. Without dragons she'd just be a wingless Illyrian female. She had no powers, no influence, no stunning looks to brag about. How could she be worthy or equal to him? 

A knock ripped her from her thoughts, Cassian entering the room and walking behind her to help her finish getting everything on. “Good morning,” he kissed her head gingerly. “How are you this morning?” He already knew. Rhys had sent him in to stop her from the mental spiral she was about to enter. He stared at her through the mirror, admiring every little thing she couldn't see about herself.

Those bright hazel eyes shining like molten honey over the most expensive cuts of emeralds. Those high sharp cheekbones, rosy and glowing more than they had when they had found her hungry and thin in those woods. Her sun-kissed clear skin. Her small nose. Her full lips.

Cassian's absolute favorite feature on his sister was her long dark hair, falling down her back like a waterfall of curls. 

She had not answered him, forcing him to hold her jaw in his hands and look at him. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” He didn't let her see his heart shatter as she looked down. “Aerilyn, surely you see how beautiful you are?” it was impossible to ignore her fingers beginning to tap on her thighs, pounding a soft rhythm into that muscled flesh as they stared at each other in the mirror.

Cassian was handsome, Aerilyn could admit that. Her brother was rugged, scarred, and his body was solid muscle carved from stone. He'd brought many females home in the month she'd been here, and she wasn't dumb enough to not see why. He was charming, handsome, smart, funny, important. 

She looked at them both again. “I suppose if you're slightly attractive, I am too?”

Cassian's head fell into her shoulder, his own shaking in laughter. “Slightly attractive? Only slightly. I think you're stunning. Exactly like Mother. And you think I'm okay looking?” 

Aerilyn smiled up at him. “Can't stroke your ego.” Cassian smiled in her hair again, puffs of air coming out as he chuckled. “Are we eating breakfast?”

“I never do anything without breakfast.” Cassian laced their fingers together, pulling her into the hallway and down the stairs. 

Azriel was at the table, head in his hands, coffee at his side. Rhys patted his shoulder. “Told you not to drink it all, Brother.” Azriel grunted at him in return. “I know. Days off.” He grunted again making Rhys and Cassian laugh. 

It was like an unspoken language between the 3 of them, and it made Aerilyn smile. Aerilyn scratched Azriel's head, taking the spot between him and the High lord. “You don't have to come,” her offer was in a soothing tone. “I don't want to burden you on your time off.”

Comfortable silence fell between the 4 of them. “You could never burden any of us,” Rhys answered plainly. “But she is correct, Azriel. You can stay home. Get some well deserved rest.” He shook his head back to grunting as he rested his forehead on the table. “He'll nap while you eat, Ari.” 

Cassian passed her the plate of something she had never seen, watching as he head tilted. “Pancakes. Kind of sweet. Kind of not.” 

“Oooooor muffin?” Aerilyn batted her eyelashes unsure of the new food being put in front of her. “We know I like muffin.”

Azriel lifted his head. “I didn't not slave away on fucking pancakes for you to ignore them like they're chopped liver.” 

“Yes,” Cassian said plainly. “I'm sure those 30 extra minutes were detrimental to your sleep pattern.”

“Oh fuck you.” Azriel slapped a pancake on her plate. “Eat it or you run laps all day.”

Aerilyn cuddled up to Rhysand tightly as they flew. Her nails almost digging painfully into his biceps and shoulders. “You would think this would not bother you so much considering you fly on dragon back.” Aerilyn tried to relax, she truly did. But she ended up holding him tighter as the wind switched. 

“It's different,” she squeaked out. “So very different.” He just hummed in response, allowing her to hold him as tight as she needed.

Rhysand looked down, slightly saddened by the view she was missing. “I suppose the views from them are also different. Having to be so far away and unable to admire anything.” She refused to move, barely attempting to peek before tucking herself back into his neck. “I will never drop you, darling.” 

“Not the worry,” she answered hastily. “Look up.” A great shadow passed over them, covering the area between himself and Ari as well as the several feet ahead of them where Cassian and Azriel flew. 

This dragon was larger than the other 3 they had seen so far. Almost swallowing the sun in black and darkness. 

Azriel and Cassian had stopped their race, hovering in amazement as the beast headed to the entrance and shook the mountain with the force of the landing. “That is one big fucker.” Cassian blinked as the words left his mouth, astonishment settling in. “Who flew him?”

“Her,” Aerilyn corrected softly. “That's a female, and it doesn't matter who flew her. She'll never take another rider.” The males went back into motion, the powerful beating of their wings distracting Aerilyn until they landed and she was gently set down. 

Eirwen had waited, her white scales glimmering like fresh fallen snow as she lowered her head for a pat. “Hello love,” Ari kissed her snoot gently. “Can we come in?” 

The drake seemed to huff, releasing a chattering like noise as she led them into the pit. She moved to the area she had clearly claimed, setting down her newest treasure into her hoard. Azriel chuckled slightly as he took the pile in. The white beast began to rearrange the fabric, placing it into the pile of silks, furs, and cloth. She seemed to almost tuck herself in before making it snow above her and releasing a happy sigh. “That is Eirwen,” Aerilyn said softly. “She is an ice drake. She hoards fabric for blankets.” 

“Winter,” Azriel muttered softly to Rhysand.

Cassian covered his mouth before moving in further and slowly. His eyes ended up locking on the blue dragon. It's scales almost dancing as they reflected the light. “Thalassa,” Aerilyn moved to the dragon, kissing her nose as well. “Hoards shells and parts of ships. Has control over water and oceanic creatures.” 

“Summer,” the spymaster muttered again.

Cassian pointed to Hestia who purred at him. “She is wondering if you brought her a gift.” Ari patted the red dragon's snoot. “She can detect a lovely collection near by but won't go pillage your home for it.”

Cassian burst out laughing. “She's probably detecting Amren. The two of them should trade notes sometime.” Hestia seemed to tilt her head as if she understood him. 

Enlil growled softly. Annoyed his bond had not came to him yet and Aerilyn immediately moved as Azriel muttered “Autumn.” Enlil was surrounded by lively floral and plants in pots. His eyes closed as Aerilyn held him, glowing as they made contact. “Enlil hoards plants,” she said happily. “Herbs, tropical things, flowers. If he thinks it's pretty, he takes it.” Rhys couldn't help but to break a smile, hearing the male dragon's whines and chirps of content as his Aerilyn loved him. “I have to finish introducing everyone. I'll be right back.”

Azriel had already moved to the next dragon, his eyes wide as he took him in. “Eros,” she said without even needing to be asked. “Controls light. Collects rare and exotics weapons. And no. He will not trade.” 

Azriel sighed softly. “So I can't convince him to give me that sword,” he pointed towards the curved Peregryn blade made from Illyrian steel. One all three males knee. “Can you tell me how he got that.” 

Aerilyn rested her head on his, stroking those golden and pink iridescent scales. 

They watched in shock as her eyes went blue, and the dragon's did as well. “On a battlefield after the war against Hybern,” the dragon said. A voice like smooth deep chocolate coming from him. “I will trade it for the dagger you carry. But nothing else.”

Aerilyn released the magic she was so used to, turning to Azriel and making a face as the drake licked up her face. “No deal. I'll find something else he may like, though.”

“Dawn,” Cassian whispered to Rhys. 

Another golden beast sat in the next area, significantly smaller than the rest, but radiating power they had not felt yet. Azriel and Cassian's siphons began to dim as they were drained. This dragon was surrounded by ancient texts and crystals. “Hekate,” Aerilyn marked and shut the book the dragon was reading gently, allowing her to rest fully onto her claws. “She hoards books and crystals. She drains magic to use it for herself. Your siphons are easy targets. It's part of why she loved Illyria and why we remained so well hidden.” 

“Day,” Rhysand said plainly as he moved to the last dragon. The beast immediately raised it's head, confirming the suspicions the three of them had. The black scaled beasts scales lit up, radiating like Starfall. “Which means this is a poison dragon, commonly found in the Night Court. What does he hoard?”

“Starlight,” Aerilyn moved between Achlys and Rhysand, protecting her second favorite dragon from the High Lord he was born to serve. “And souls.” Achlys Say up, towering over Aerilyn as he looked down upon the males in front of him. 

Rhys rose his chin to the challenge. “They used to call these dragons the world eaters.”

Aerilyn looked at Rhys, glaring slightly, “They used to call them many things.” 

Rhys nodded and raised a hand to the dragon, allowing it to sniff him before patting its scaled nose. “I have no worries, Aerilyn Darling. I would like to see each drake's powers sometime, though.” Rhysand offered her his arm, moving her back to Enlil as Cassian and Azriel left the pit to discuss the potential they were sitting on. “There's a female in Pryithian,” Rhysand began. “One who stood at Hybern's side as their general and is now claiming to be an emissary. I have no plans on exposing you all to her, but I'd like to know the advantage I have. Just in case.”

Ari felt her hazel eyes widened in shock. “In case of war?” Rhysand nodded, kissing her knuckles and kneeling down in front of where she sat on her mounts clawed paw. “Rhys-”

He gave her a soft look, “Not for my benefit, my mate. For the safety of these lands, our home, them, you. I need to know before Amarantha pulls something. And I need to know they are able to protect you.” 

Taglist : @kemillyfreitas @jesssicapaniagua @elijahssuit @biancabldss @hellwantfuckme @justdreamstars @sidthedollface2

[dummiebrat]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal (Mentioned)

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: A monologue from a young Agatha Harkness, reflecting on her first encounter with Rio Vidal, a personification of death. Set in the aftermath of her Coven's destruction, Agatha is consumed by a mixture of fascination, longing, and existential recognition.

Notes: Tarot Symbolism, Rio Vidal (Mentioned), Salem! Agatha Harkness, Angst, Longing, Monologue and Existentialism.

Author's notes: This is my first time posting what I write, I hope you like it. English is not my native language, please forgive me for any mistakes.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤI saw her first through the smoke and ruin, the embers of my world still glowing red-hot as if they might sear her image into my memory forever. Rio. Her name tastes ancient on my tongue, like the first breath of a long-forgotten prayer. She moved like the shadow of a storm, cloaked in night, her presence a force of nature that could strip the marrow from your bones and leave you grateful for it.

But even then, as the weight of her settled upon the clearing—upon me—I did not feel fear. No, fear had died alongside my Coven, their lifeless forms twisted and blackened around me. What I felt was something far more dangerous, far more consuming. Curiosity.

Her face is etched into my mind now, clearer than any memory I have of the women who raised me. Her beauty defies description, for how can one describe the juxtaposition of death itself? The hollow perfection of her skull, bare and gleaming like the moon, balanced against the soft humanity of her lips and the cold fire in her eyes. It is a beauty that demands surrender, a beauty that promises ruin.

And oh, how I wish to be ruined by her.

She spoke to me, and her voice was the end of all things. Low and steady, like the final toll of a bell, each word slipping beneath my skin to settle in my marrow. “You carry the weight of them now,” she told me, her tone neither cruel nor kind. And I, broken and burning, could do nothing but believe her. How could I not, when she was the very proof of the weight I bore?

In that moment, I thought of The Lovers. The tarot card that someone once showed me, the one she said was meant to guide my path. I used to laugh at it, at its foolish romance and impossible choices. Yet now I see it clearly, its meaning so sharp it cuts. The Lovers is not just about love — it is about union, about two halves becoming a whole and the impossible balance of what is chosen and what is fated. I see it in Rio, in the space between us.

She is death, cold and inexorable. I am life, wild and unyielding. Two forces that should repel one another, yet I feel the pull like gravity, drawing me closer to the void she carries within her. We are the two sides of the same coin, two halves of an unfinished story. Where her hands take, mine give; where her presence consumes, mine creates. And yet, standing before her, I feel as though I have never truly lived until now.

Her words lingered in the ashes that surrounded us: Death is not scary. Life is. How could she be so cruel as to speak a truth so profound? It is life that binds us, that breaks us, that chains us to one another even as it promises freedom. Life is the fire, the storm, the chaos. And death… death is her. Quiet. Inevitable. Beautiful.

I wonder if she knows what she has done to me. Does she see the way my fingers itch to touch her again, to trace the sharp lines of her face and learn the secrets of her unyielding form? Does she feel the tether she has wrapped around my heart, pulling me toward her with every breath?

Rio Vidal, death in human form. I should fear her, and yet I want to claim her. To make her mine. I have lost everything — my Coven, my mother, my innocence — but I will not lose her. She is the opposite of what I am, and yet I feel as though we are the same. Two flames destined to burn together, consuming all in our path.

I will find a way to bind her to me, to tie her essence to mine as tightly as life is bound to death. If she is the reaper of souls, then I will ensure she has all she needs. And perhaps, in giving her that, she will give me what I crave in return.

Her presence lingers still, like smoke in my lungs, like the memory of a dream that refuses to fade. She will return. She must. For how can The Lovers exist if one half of the pair is missing?

[aonungapologist]

you simply hate me

ao’nung x reader

“Lo’ak, are you alright?” Your gentle voice, sweet as honey, rang out in the chilly air, as you caught up to Lo’ak and Ao’nung. Ao’nung sighed heavily at the sound of your voice. The familiar feeling began brewing inside him, a feeling that gnawed at his heartstrings and that made his mind start screaming at you to go away, leave.

You examined Lo’ak, but he put your worries at ease with a small smile. “I am okay,” he reassures you, a hand on your upper arm, and Ao’nung resists the urge to undo all the progress on his relationship with Lo’ak.

Lo’ak leaves, and he’s left alone, with you. Your back is to him, and, in an eerily calm tone, you state, “come.”

Ao’nung follows you; he does not know what else to do. He has not seen you since the fight, and when you looked at him like that, as you and Kiri walked away from the commotion, another feeling started to brew just underneath the all too familiar one of past. But he disliked this one even more, it made him feel powerless, like you held the key to every wall he had spent so long building.

In your marui, you set to work, collecting the healing paste you’d need for his injuries. His ears went up in silent confusion, that new, unfamiliar feeling starting to take over again. Why would you care for him, when he’d spent all his time telling you, over and over again, that he wanted nothing to do with you?

The silence that fell over you while you gently applied healing paste to his cuts and scratches suffocated him. He felt a wave of guilt crashing into him, knocking him off his feet and carrying him away with the ocean. How could one be so gentle, so caring, so amiable to another who made them so miserable?

You hesitated before healing the cut on his cheek, deciding to speak instead.

“You simply hate me.” It was spoken like a fact, like no one had ever questioned it before.

“Of course I hate you.”

And of course, he regretted it as soon as it left his lips, which he shut immediately, for fear he would say something else that would entirely ruin this forever.

For he was sick and tired of this feeling that wanted you to leave, to hate him and go find someone else who could care for you and make you feel like the Great Mother herself was smiling down upon you. He was sick and tired of worrying that you would get too close, and see every little flaw in him, and you would despise him as he pretended to you, and you would leave him as heartbroken and empty as your eyes looked now, as you asked a simple question that shattered that feeling into a million pieces.

“Why?”

Why? Ao’nung could not begin to answer.

“Have I done something to you?” No, no. Ao’nung doubts you could ever do something that would make anyone dislike you.

“No,” he whispers, his walls crumbling down; perhaps they had been fake all along.

“Then why do you dislike me so?”

“Because-” No. He is done. No longer will he pretend to despise the very ground you walk on, no longer will he act as though your very existence irritates him.

“No. I will not do this any longer.” He stands up, desperate to get rid of the nervous energy he suddenly feels. “I will not act like this any longer.”

“Please, just answer me. Then I will leave you alone,” you begged, standing up with him. He did not turn around; he was too afraid to meet your honest eyes.

“I do not hate you. I have never hated you, in fact, I adore you; so much so that I can only think of how miserable you would be if you were to spend the rest of your life with me.”

“I would not be miserable.”

“Yes, you would-”

“No, I would not. I know you feel that you are a burden, a disappointment, but I could not disagree more. You are a fine free diver, one of our best hunters, and one day, you will be the greatest Olo’ekytan this clan has ever seen.”

Desperation, that’s all he felt as he crashed his lips onto yours, slamming you into the wall of your marui. You’re shocked, so much so that you don’t move for some time. But your brain eventually catches up, finally kissing him back. He groans, immediately deepening the kiss. And it’s dizzying; the way he holds the base of your neck with one hand, the other softly holding your waist. You hold his shoulders, your heart racing and beating harder than it's ever beat before. You move so that your hand is buried deep in his soft curls, which hang free under his bun. Your lungs begin to scream at you, burning and burning until you have to pull away.

You’re both panting heavily, and once you’ve caught your breath, you go straight back in, already yearning for more, for him.

To your frustration, he pulls away, his soft ocean blue eyes closed, his forehead carefully resting on yours.

“I did not realise what I was feeling, as I understood it, it was hate. But now I know… I was wrong,” he breathes, opening his eyes to meet yours; piercing, striking, right into his heart, his soul.

“Oel ngati kameie.”

Your breath hitches, your legs suddenly feel like they’re about to collapse under your weight, and your mouth opens, though you struggle to form a sentence.

You’re stunned; the last thing you expected him to say was that. An hour ago you thought he hated your entire being.

Your hand reaches to hold his face, tenderly, lovingly; you rub your thumb in soothing motions on his cheeks, which were a raging red blush.

“Ao’nung… oel ngati kameie.”

Sighing in contentment, you simply held one another. Basking in the others touch and love, finally feeling a deep calm that soothed every fibre of your being.

You didn’t want to look at anything else now that you saw him.

[azzysmate]

Back From the Dead - Part 1

Azriel x RhysSister Fanfic

Summary: Rhaen, sister of Rhysand, was supposedly dead for centuries, but what if she wasn’t? What if she was only trapped by something no one ever dreamed of being so dangerous? And what will happen when she appears at the border of the Spring Court and human lands barely alive?

1st Person POV - Rhaen

I wonder how long I've been gone for. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know it's been more than a hundred years, but when you spend your days as I have in an entirely different plane of existence, you begin to stop counting the days since you last saw your family. You stop hoping there will come a time that you will see them again. All you can do is pray to the Mother that your time will come soon and that the people you love have moved on with their lives without you.

The misery I have witnessed plays in a loop behind my eyes. Not just my own, though I have certainly felt more than my fair share, but that's not what haunts me. No, the screams of agony that live in my nightmares are of other females who were trapped with me. All shapes and sizes. All ages. All types of fae and human kind. And one in particular.

Dahlia.

My poor, sweet, innocent flower. I see her tearful eyes widened in death beneath me. There's blood everywhere. Her blood everywhere. In her hair, staining her clothes, pooled on the earth under her, all over her face and my hands. Just a child, dead, because of my idiocy.

Her blood. On my hands. I'll never be able to rid myself of the scarlet color in my ledger. Not hers.

I feel my breathing become shallow, coming in as gasps, going out as pants. Then the rest of the defenseless women around me go silent. It's only my voice I hear now that bellows a cry of rage, of grief, of vengeance.

Someone grabs my wrists, pulling them away from Dahlia. I fight them, yelling for them to let me go, to let me seek my revenge, to let me slaughter every last one of these beasts who have damned me.

If they think me a monster, then so be it. I will be what they fear me to be.

But when I wrench my arms out of the unknown grasp, I wake up. I'm sitting up in a bed with a fae female staring wide-eyed at me. Sweat soaks through my clothing, and my left arm is tangled in wires. My throat is raw, my heart is pounding, and whoever this girl in front of me is, she must be strong considering she held me back for as long as she did.

"It's alright," she speaks, "You're safe. Nothing is going to happen to you, Rhaen."

I blink at her, trying to steady my breathing as I ask, "Who the fuck are you?"

"My name is Feyre," she replies softly and places one hand on my calves, as if attempting to keep me from spiraling further.

I wince at the touch, not from pain, but from distrust. She pulls away as I say, "I don't know you. What do you want with me? Where am I?"

"We're in Velaris. In Madja's clinic." She pauses for a moment, studying my face in awe. "I don't want anything from you, but you need to remain calm. You were very badly hurt, I don't want you to be any more uncomfortable than I'm sure you already are."

"Velaris?" I repeat, knowing if she knows of my hidden home in the Night Court, we must be safe like she says.

She gives me a small smile. "Yes, you're home."

I let out a sigh of relief at her reassurance, trying to shake off the remainder of hellish recollections. She stares at me for a moment, taking in my face like she's seen me before, and I notice that the rims are slightly wet, like she's been crying for me.

"I-I'm sorry..." I tell her, "Do I... know you?"

"No," she answers softly, a bit of amusement appearing in her tone, "but I've heard so many stories, I feel like I sort of know you. And you just look so much like your brother..."

"My brother?" My throat tightens again. "You know Rhysand?"

"Very well. We're-"

"Rhaen..." another calls my name, and we both look towards the door.

And despite everything I've been through, despite how hard it is to breathe without my chest aching, I smile at him. "Speak of the devil."

He chuckles through a sob and drops the bags hanging off of his fingers to come strutting to my bed and wraps his arms around me. I groan because of the tenderness of what I'm sure are thousands of bruises, but I return his gesture, clinging to him for dear life.

I ball the material of his shirt into my fist and let teardrops flow freely down my face. "Rhys..."

"Rhae," he breathes out against my hair, "I can't believe this is real."

"Me neither."

He pulls back abruptly, making flinch once more. He holds my face in his hands and asks, "Where have you been? What happened? Tamlin told us you were dead, that he had your wings for proof. How is this possible? How did you end up back in Prythian? Who the hell hurt you?"

"Take a breath, brother," I remark, "We have time for explanations later. For now, I'd just like to take some time to heal and enjoy seeing my family again."

"I know, I... I'm sorry, my mind is reeling, little one, and I can't seem to get a grasp on any of it."

"So how about we put a pin in the heavy stuff for now, and you tell me what's been going on here."

Feyre lets out a little laugh behind him, catching my attention again. "If you're looking to avoid a complicated topic, you may want to be more specific. A lot has happened in Prythian, in the last ten years alone."

"Never mind that," Rhys dismisses gently, climbing off the bed to go stand next to Feyre, "You're right, we should let you acclimate a bit first, so we can start with introductions. Feyre Darling, this is my sister, Rhaen. Princess of the Night Court. Little one, this is Feyre. My mate."

"Mate?" I exclaim with eyes and mouth opened wide, "You have a mate? And here I was practically interrogating the poor girl."

"That's alright," Feyre says kindly, "We weren't expecting you to wake up for another hour or so, Rhys was getting us something to eat."

Rhys glances down to the bags he dropped, wrinkling his nose a bit at the mess he'd made. "And it looks like I'll be going back for more."

"That can wait," I wave him off, "Feyre, tell me how awful it is having to be tied to him for the rest of your life. Is he still the biggest, most arrogant Illyrian prick ever?"

"Hey," he whines while she giggles, "That title is, was, and always will belong to Cassian, little sister, and you know it."

"Oh, Cass," I coo, "Gods, I've missed his hugs. How is he?"

Rhys smirks. "Doing pretty well for himself. The Lord of Bloodshed is now my General."

"What?" I laugh and immediately regret the sudden act as another wave of sensitivity throbs inside of me. I lean back against the pillows to try and get the pressure off my torso, then continue, "Wait a second, your general? You're telling me, not only is that brute the commander of armies, but you're High Lord of the Night Court?"

"Most powerful in a millennia," he confirms smugly, and Feyre rolls her eyes. "You can act annoyed all you want, Feyre Darling, but if it weren't true, would you be my High Lady?"

"High Lady?" my jaw drops, "Cauldron boil me, was I gone that long?"

"It's a very long story," Feyre exasperates, "Another that we'll have to put a pin in. However, it will not be one that your brother takes credit for." She lifts a brow in challenge, daring him to argue.

He holds his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. She earned it. But the even bigger shock? Cassian is mated to her sister, Nesta."

"No way... Cassian has a mate?" Rhys nods in amusement. "She must be a firecracker, and I'll bet she has him wrapped around her little finger."

"Nesta is something, alright," Rhys mumbles, "but they're perfect for each other, that much is certain."

"And Mor? How is she?"

"As cheerful and vain as ever."

"Amren?"

"As terrifying as ever. Although, she is high fae now, no longer whatever god-like creature she was trapped in a fae body."

"Really? I assume that's another added to the list of conversations for later?"

They share a hesitant look, one that I don't prod for clarity on, and then nod at me slowly.

I take a breath, knowing that there's only one other curiosity to satisfy. My stomach knots up when I think of my next question. The one person I'm dying to ask about, but also the most terrified to hear of finding a mate.

I clear my throat, and as I muster up the courage to finally get my query out, I feel my face burn bright, "And what about Azriel?"

"You could ask me yourself," a gravel filled voice comes from the doorway, and when my eyes meet his, all my worries fade far from my mind.

I swallow heavily under his scrutiny, the gold irises drinking me like he's scared I'll disappear right under his watchful gaze.

Did I imagine that he was the one to find me? Was it only my mind playing tricks on me, making me believe he lifted me up into the air and told me to stay with him?

No. With the way he's looking at me now, I know it wasn't all in my head at all. The Shadowsinger saved me. He saw me half dead and pleaded to the Mother for me to live.

"Azzy..." I croak out.

He takes a deep breath. "Princess." He takes a few steps in and lifts one eyebrow. "If I hadn't just found you barely breathing, I'd be so pissed at you for waking up before I got back."

I let out a breathy laugh, trying to fight against the tears that threatened to fall. "Yeah, lucky me for almost dying. Again."

"Hey, don't feel too bad, Az," Rhys chimes in, "I was out getting food for Feyre and I when she woke up."

The Shadowsinger's eyes don't leave mine as his lips turn upwards ever so slightly. "I see you still enjoy giving people a hard time."

"Don't think I'll ever get over that," I reply with a smirk.

He sighs and playfully rolls his eyes, and I see Feyre tilt her head in confusion and then share a look with her mate.

I look between them before asking, "Is this going to happen a lot? You two having secret conversations in your head? Because I can play, too."

"See?" I say to both of them with them daemati powers.

Feyre's gaze widens at me. "You're daemati, too?"

"And she'll never let anyone forget it," Rhys answer for me, causing me to let out another weak laugh, "In response to your question, yes. As High Lord and Lady, we often have private discussions in front of everyone."

"Oh, and I'm sure it has everything to do with the safety of the Night Court and never inappropriate?" I tease them. I see Feyre's cheeks pink.

Rhys closes his eyes and tucks in his lips. "I have to say, while I'm glad you're still your old, troublemaking self, I did not miss how uncomfortable you could make me at times."

"I've got a lot of time to make up for," I smile brilliantly.

Amusement flashes in Azriel's gaze before he makes his way to my side. "Has Madja been in to check her out?"

"No," Feyre states since she was the one her when I opened my eyes, "She seems to be acting normal though."

"That's quite the understatement, Feyre Darling," my brother inserts.

"I'm sore, that much is certain, but other than that, I feel fine. I would like to go home if she doesn't notice anything alarming."

"I'll go find her," Azriel declares.

Rhys walks towards the door as well, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'll join you."

Feyre gives them a bewildered look as they leave, and this time, I don't hold my tongue.

"What's the matter?" I inquire of her.

She looks to me, then the door, and back at me. "I've never really seen him act like this before."

"You mean Az?"

"Yes," she confirms with a nod, "It's almost as if he's... flirting?"

I scoff, then rub my chest to alleviate the irritation it caused while checking, "With me? No way."

Humor passes through her features before she schools them back to neutrality. "Right. He must just be happy you're back."

Although I don't believe her assumption is accurate in anyway, I find my stomach flurrying with butterflies at the thought.

But there's absolutely no chance that Azriel is, was, or ever has flirted with me, his best friend's little sister, someone he views as his own little sister. Even if I might wish he did...

Thank you guys so much for liking the prologue! You have no idea how much the support means to me… I hope you guys continue to stay tuned for Rhaen’s journey. These first couple parts are basically just going to be her reentering Velaris and acclimating as best as she can. Again, leave a comment if you want to be tagged for the next part. Ilysm🤍

@projectcampbell @acourtofsmutandstarlight @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @anainkandpaper

[thatonegenshinsimp]

I can’t believe you made me fall in love with capitano- you just wrote him so beautifully! I was wondering if you could write something like that for pantalone and dottore too, that would make me die peacefully :’)

Anon, this made me so happy you have no idea. Of course I shall write for Dottore and Pantalone! I’ll have to write Pantalone’s part separate from this one though.

Warning- Spoilers for Dottore’s real name and the Sumeru Archon Quest if you squint below!

Masterlist

You were terrified when you heard the Tsaritsa tell you that you were to marry the Second Harbinger, Dottore. You had heard of his rather… gruesome methods of experimentation on humans, and feared that the same would happen to you if you incurred his wrath. The only one you felt you could trust was your handmaiden, Claire, who hailed from Fontaine.

From what he had heard about you, Dottore knew that you were a scholar from Sumeru, and journeyed to Snezhnaya originally to help take care of your sick mother. She had succumbed to her illness, causing you to inherit her house and all she owned. You were slow to open up to others, especially if they had a background that was anything like his. However, you intrigued him immensely, and he wanted to know everything he could about you. You were his wife, after all, and he should be taking his role as your husband a little more seriously than he had been since you both got married. He thought about what to do, looking outside his window at the setting sun. That’s when he got an idea, a smirk adorning his face as he rose from his desk chair and opened the door to his office. He walked down the hall and, as his luck would have it, bumped into your handmaiden. “Oh, Lord Dottore, may I help you with something?” She asked. His smirk widened. “Yes. Tell my wife to meet me in the dining hall in thirty minutes.” he spoke. “My Lord, she is currently-” “Did I stutter, little mouse? You best scurry along before I decide I need a new lab rat on my hands after tonight.” he threatened, watching her run back down the hall. Yes, dinner with you sounded quite lovely tonight. This way, he could also learn more about you.

You nervously fidgeted with your dress as Claire fastened your hair in a bun, making sure that not a single strand was out of place. You were worried about why Dottore called for you to join him tonight, since he usually elected to eat in his office alone. However, you did not realize just how much you would reveal to him this night.

Dottore sat across from you at the table, having, for the first night since your wedding night, taken off his mask in front of you. His red eyes seemed to stare you down, his crimson gaze almost pinning you to your seat. You were jumpy at everything he said, constantly on edge, and he seemed to find it highly amusing to watch. However, his demeanor changed when the rest of the servants left the room. “If I may ask, why is it that you seem to avoid me every chance you get?” he asked, his voice suddenly much quieter in tone. After a few minutes, you spoke, having thought about your answer for quite some time now. You looked up and let your gaze meet his. “Well, would you mind if I were completely honest with you?” you asked, causing him to shake his head. “Of course I wouldn’t mind. It is my greatest wish to find out more about you.” he replied. “Will you promise not to get angry with me?” you requested. Without hesitation, Dottore nodded. “It is because you have scared me for the longest time. I don’t... I don’t exactly know how to go about approaching you. I’m scared that I might anger you, and I’ve heard about how you treat those who anger you.” You voiced. Dottore waited patiently until you’d finished speaking. “Would it help if you knew more about me?” He asked, receiving a nod from you in response. “My real name isn’t actually Dottore, it’s Zandik. You may call me as such if you wish to do so. I am from Sumeru, and studied Mechanical Life for a while before deciding to further pursue it here in Snezhnaya after my expulsion from the Akademiya. My research so far here has been a success.” He explained. You nodded. “I tried to study things like that, but gave up after my second year at the Akademiya, and started studying medicine after hearing of my mother’s condition. The whole reason I even joined the Fatui in the first place was to try and secure the medicine to help her with her illness.” You explained. “And your mother?” He asked. You sighed, resting your head in your hands. “She passed away two years ago. There was a “debt” of sorts that my mother left unpaid to the Fatui, so I was forced to marry either you or one of the other Harbingers of her choosing. She chose to marry me off to you.” You explained. Dottore was not one to give comfort often, as he was not very experienced with social cues and interactions with large groups of people. Even so, he still went over to you and sat beside you, putting a hand on your shoulder as you tried to calm down. After you were able to speak, you looked over at Dottore and took a deep but shaky breath. “Thank you, you didn’t need to comfort me.” You spoke, causing him to sigh. “You’re lucky, I normally do not do embarrassing things such as this, but I suppose that I ought to get used to having you around if you’re my wife.” He replied, letting go of you. “If you’re finished with dinner, then I’d suggest that you get some sleep. The body wastes a lot of energy crying.” He advised. You nodded, getting up from your seat and walking to the bedroom. You changed into your sleepwear and laid down, before hearing Dottore’s voice from the doorway. You looked at him as he spoke. “I shall check on you later, my experiments require my attention, and I will be busy until the late hours of the night. Get some sleep.” He voiced, leaving before you could say anything else to him.

From that day on, you would try to spend most of your time in his office, giving what input you could about his experiments, and helping with what he needed to the best of your ability. One day, he pointed it out.

“Why is it that you’re suddenly much closer than before?” he asked. You only smiled and repeated what he said that started this. “I suppose I ought to get used to having you around if you’re my husband, Zandik.” you replied, taking him by surprise. “Would you look at that? It seems that the viper really can bite back.” he snickered, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into his lap. Your face reddened as he took off his mask and set it on the desk. “What an interesting one you are, I’ll have to make sure to keep you around.” he said, twirling a lock of your hair around his finger as he read over the notes that one of his segments took on a recent experiment in his laboratory in Zapolyarny Palace. You stayed in his lap like that until he was done looking over his notes, and set down his pen. “I would assume that there is something you want if you’re still here.” he observed. “Does your company count?” you asked, looking up at him as you leaned your head against his shoulder. With a long, drawn out sigh, he wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on top of yours.

“Yes, I suppose it does.” he replied.

[variousqueerthings]

something i havent seen (im sure it's out there i just havent seen it) is that while a part of louis and claudia's relationship is of course very much framed by how claudia is constantly made to be in second place to louis' romantic partners (who are also not good to her or to louis) is the way that they're family, and it's complicated, but ultimately - i think - a positive family for one another, rather than the kind of family you leave and never speak to again if you can help it (that would be lestat...)

whether louis is father/mother/uncle/brother, he's not really "friend," (and vice versa, claudia as child/niece/sister) and so there's always going to be a specific dynamic that is complicated in the way the family you grow up with is complicated, and is even more complicated because using any of those words is technically incorrect and they fully had lives before they met, but for the sake of this particular read i think this fits closest. caretaker, perhaps

the point is - and it's not something i can make particularly coherently at the moment - related to how i feel about my siblings (esp my younger siblings) vs how i feel about other people in my life. my siblings simply are, whether or not we get on all the time, whether i feel sad or not that our lives have grown apart since adulthood, whether or not other people in their and my life take precedence during particular times (which can take many different forms -- for them more romantic, for me more community related, the language for where we're going in life just looks different than it did when we were kids)

when louis lets claudia down, but at the same time promises "you and me/me and you" those two things aren't paradoxical to one another, because there is a certain "taking for granted" that can happen -- claudia is always going to be there, just like louis assumes he will also simply be there, while at the same time having that jealousy and expectation that comes with his being older than her that she'll always depend on him to an extent (and she does, but he maybe doesn't take into account how much he depends on her, because being older/feeling like he has "the responsibility" while also suffering serious mental health issues... lotta mess he puts on her shoulders, as we can see)

when claudia joins the coven that takes away louis' feeling of being of use anymore, he doesn't define himself outside of claudia ("if there was no me...") -- and also outside of lestat/his romantic relationships but that's a different post -- and claudia is moving on, but look, armand is there, claudia's got what she wants, louis got something, and they're both still there (am also reminded of how when claudia comes back in s1, it's explicitly once she sees louis sobbing over his grave when his sister declares him dead)

the idea of claudia not being there terrifies louis, he experienced that loss twice in new orleans, once when she left and didn't come back for years, and once when lestat forced her back immediately, and then again the idea of it when she joins the coven (but then he pulls himself back from the edge of letting armand kill him when he fears for her life) and then in a big way when she goes with madeleine, and he knows they're better together than he could ever be for her, but she's still his in that sibling/parent/caretaker feeling kind of way, and this is a loss even though it's important, and also, with being a vampire, she possibly could have still eventually circled back every 100 years or so -- such is the nature of family. they're still there, even if you don't see them for a very long time

and now, finally, forever. claudia is no longer there

im just. yes, louis let her down. but he let her down like you let your family down, by assuming that no matter what, they were a given. claudia can't simply... not be there anymore... she's his family. you argue and you make up and you fuck up and you forgive and you're still there, no matter how messed up you feel or how much you grow apart

she's so right in asking that question: who is louis outside of her? but not just because louis has had the worst luck in life (human and vampire) and been unable to form himself specifically because of *waves hands at everything,* but also because when you see yourself as a caretaker (whether or not you're doing a good job of it), who are you when that person wants to move on from you, doesn't need you in the way you want to be needed, when that person perhaps leaves your life for good?