#all fae-n and games

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Extended fae-mily

“The people will not care. We are beings of Rules, Talia, and those won’t change until there is no other option. Even then…” He shook his head.

(Or: Talia needs an heir)

Talia’s real name was not actually Talia, just like her father’s name was not actually Ra’s (what kind of person would seriously name their child Head?), but it would be improper for a faerie of her status to release her True Name to just anyone. Much less to an author intent on telling her story to anyone who will take the time to read it. So, for the time being, we shall all pretend that everything up to this point and hereafter has not been recontextualized in any way, and that these thoughts are as historically accurate as possible.

After all, faerie cannot lie.

They do, however, twist the truth in any way they see fit.

And, regardless, is any one person’s perception of reality ever completely true?

Still, this story is not about any of that. It’s not even, entirely, about her.

It’s about her duty. As the heir to the In-Between.

She needed to bear a child. To carry on her family's legacy and ensure that they could continue to serve their people through future generations.

This did not mean she was exactly ecstatic about that particular responsibility, though.

The air behind her held more weight than it usually did. She craned her head back to look, and sighed when her eyes landed on her father, floating in the doorway to her room. She was pretty sure she had never seen the man touch the ground, not in all of the years she had lived. Now, he appeared to be sitting in an invisible chair, though leaning forward quite a bit, on the edge of his nonexistent seat.

“Father…” she groaned.

“I haven’t even said anything!” he defended himself, smiling.

She fixed him with a flat look.

He dropped pretenses. And his chin into his hands. He slumped back in his ‘chair’, but his smile never wavered. “I’m not getting any younger.”

“Nor is anyone else,” she pointed out. “And you are hardly frail.”

He gave a long, drawn-out sigh.

“I still do not see why my son could not —.”

“He is not a True Fae, you know this,” he cut her off. It was impolite to do so, technically, but the rules were never quite as strict when with loved ones. “Therefore, he cannot rule. The people would not allow it.”

“There simply aren’t enough True Fae for it to be sustainable anymore.”

“The people will not care. We are beings of Rules, Talia, and those won’t change until there is no other option. Even then…” He shook his head.

“None of us have ‘proper’ heirs. Superman’s oldest son is a Changeling. His wife was human, meaning their youngest child is not a True Fae, either. As for Batman, all of his children were once human, outside of his own Changeling.” She ran a hand through her hair, trying to soothe herself. “If we are to alter this, now is the time, when all three realms can agree.”

Ra’s looked at her for a long moment, something inscrutable in his eyes. “Changing tradition is not that simple.” Slowly, he made his way over, until he could rest his hand upon her shoulder. He didn’t apologize, for an apology would imply a debt, and what she would ask of him would not be something he believed he could give her, but he was still apologetic. “We are given power and, in return, our people ask us to prove we are worthy of it. How could we be worthy, if we cannot do one of the few things they ask of us?”

She looked at the ground.

“I understand.”

~

Talia made her way through the halls of her family home. A ball of light wound and weaved itself around her feet with every step she took, allowing her to see despite the darkness that loved to find a home there just as much as she did.

Like everyone else in the In-Between, her house was made up of a series of carved-out tunnels deep underground. The winds were simply too harsh for any structures to be built above ground, and it wasn’t as if the magically inclined couldn’t make the world beneath the surface a beautiful paradise, anyway.

She ran her fingers along the wall as she made her way down, further into their home. The walls were a deep, emerald green… at first. The light refracted off of the Alexandrite as she passed, making the gem look pink instead, leaving the area around her to feel far less cold, far more inviting.

It wasn’t long before she reached a door, her fingers coming to rest upon the dark wood for just a moment.

If she told Jason, it would be official.

That was… a lot of commitment.

She wasn’t sure if she was ready for a child.

To be clear, she was not against children. If she was then she would not have taken in Jason in the first place.

She was not even against having a child. She was a fae, she would not have to carry a child to term or anything of that nature. The hardest part of creating a child would probably be making the trip to the Water of Life, and the paperwork that would be boring and tedious, but otherwise painless.

But it was different, asking her to raise a child from birth. She had found Jason when he was in his teenage years, more than capable of taking care of himself so long as he was provided with adequate resources and affection, and additionally resourceful due to his less-than-stellar original parents (the thought made her want to tear into the man a second time, even if she knew he was long dead).

A baby, however, would be completely reliant on her, and she was a busy woman.

She would have help, though, she supposed, in the form of the baby’s other parent.

She already knew who that would be.

For Talia had made a Deal with Batman, many years ago, when they had been arguing over who got to lay claim to Jason — for Batman’s oldest children, as much as she loathed to admit it, had found Jason first, making her claim over the boy somewhat hazy, even if, ultimately, she had been the one with the claim. If it had gone to Court, she probably would have won… but, in the end, neither she nor Batman had wanted to steal their son away from someone who made him happy.

On the other hand, there was the matter of fairness...

A decision had been made: they could co-parent Jason, but only if they could also co-parent another child one day in the future.

A child of her choosing.

She doubted Batman had caught on to what she was really aiming for, but it hadn’t mattered regardless. Again, the actual act of having a child for a fae was basically effortless, so, for all intents and purposes, he was simply getting another child — one that looked more like him, perhaps, but simply another child regardless.

And, really, was Batman one to say no to another child? If she hadn’t known better, she would say they were collecting them simply for the sake of having as many as possible. Even while knowing better, she couldn’t help but wonder.

Either way, he had experience with children, more than even she did. Beyond that, his butler-dad (or was it dad-butler?), A, had experience helping raise children, as did her own father…

It shouldn’t be that bad.

With that in mind, she finally let her fingers rap against the wood.

“Jason, it’s me,” she called.

The door swung open without even a second’s hesitation, and she couldn’t help but smile a little, stepping further into the room, letting the ball of light disperse itself behind her.

She almost didn’t see Jason, at first. The boy had taken to her tigers from the day he’d met them and, accordingly, he never left their side when he was home. Now, he was buried beneath three piles of fur. The only evidence he was there at all was the set of wings, stretched over the top of one of the tigers to make sure they didn’t get crushed under all of their weight.

“Jason,” she said.

He didn’t look at her, really, but he waved a wing in acknowledgment.

“I have been thinking. It has been a while since you’ve gotten a new sibling, yes?”

Jason snorted. “Did you find another kid on the brink of death to steal away?”

“No, no, nothing like that… but… about that…”

Jason sat up, frowning just slightly as he tried to reason out exactly what she was getting at.

She gave him a slightly nervous smile. “If I were to create a new child, would you be okay with that?”

He raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.

But then he smiled.

“It’s not like the Old Man is going to be getting another kid anytime soon, since we got run out of town ‘n all, so…” Jason shrugged. “I have an opening.”

Talia hesitated. “I’m glad you’re open to the idea of another sibling… however… again… about that…”

~

Talia didn’t need to make nearly as long of a trip as the other two rulers would need to. After all, the Water of Life lay within the borders of the In-Between.

It was easy to think of those about to die as being within their realm, but was birth not just that in reverse? Neither alive nor dead?

Whether or not people agree, it is simply the way of their world. Meaning that, while the waters weren’t exactly close, they weren’t far, either.

She stepped out of her home, the winds immediately picking up in response to her presence, buffeting at her hair and clothes. The skies swirled overhead, the clouds smudged with pinks, oranges, and pale yellows. Beautiful, until you catch the crackle of lightning dancing among the otherwise pleasant sight, and realize that the clouds were not simply swirling, but instead churning with enough force to kill a fae even without iron. The pale, fine sand making up the ground reflected the light perfectly, and yet it was unsteady beneath her feet, threatening to sweep her up and away, never to be seen again – or, at least, to never be seen whole again, her body ripped into unidentifiable shreds.

She planted her feet beneath the sand, shouldered her bag, sighed…

And then, she walked.

~

She did not pout at the cliff face in front of her, doing so would be undignified, but she did send it a particularly nasty scowl. The cliff, being a cliff, and therefore inanimate, did not seem all that offended by her blatant disdain. It still made her feel better, though.

Hopefully, they will get Batman’s wings, she thought dully, making sure her backpack was as secure as it could be before she started climbing.

Jagged rocks dug into the skin of her palms, painting the otherwise white limestone a deep red (the splotches of color would surely be swept away soon enough, weathered away by the elements), but it was all worth it when she finally pulled herself up and over that last ledge. It was as if she had stepped into a new world entirely, the wind dying down in an instant, the roaring in her ears dying down in favor of the quiet trickle of water. The limestone falling away in favor of crystalline walls and floors.

The waters glimmered shades of blue and green. It was endless, constantly replenishing itself from an unknown source even when logic dictated that it should have long since run out. Especially because the pool before her was not stationary. No, it would roll over rocks and crystals, away from her, towards the opening on the opposite end of the cave. It spilled over the edge, and then plummeted towards the ground so far below.

It would never truly reach it, swept away by the winds long before it hit the sand, but that didn’t make the waterfall any less enchanting.

Talia smiled faintly despite her exhaustion, picking her way along the edge of the waters in want of something to do while she waited for the other two rulers to arrive…

And, for better or for worse, she found that 'something'.

Her eyes caught on the edge of a flower petal. Part of a dandelion. Minuscule in size, but she would bring shame upon the Ghul family name if she were to miss even the smallest of details. She picked it up, her head tilting to the side as she ran her fingers over the soft petal. The yellow of the flower shimmered just slightly, dancing with magic.

Someone had failed to clean up after themselves properly.

The sound of someone touching down behind her – quiet, but echoing strangely against the walls of the otherwise quiet cave – drew her gaze, and she raised an eyebrow at Superman. He looked windswept, for lack of a better word. His usually perfectly coiffed hair hung limp, having been shaken loose of its gel by the harsh winds of the In-Between.

It didn’t help that he was only just tall enough to reach her waist. He might have literally been windswept.

He didn’t seem as amused by this as she was.

He was only there for the sake of tradition. Bringing a peer along as an official witness was necessary when bringing a True Fae into the world, and he was the only person of similar status to the two future parents. However, she was suddenly glad to have him here:

“Someone under your jurisdiction used the waters without doing the appropriate paperwork,” she said, tossing the petal his way. It fluttered to the ground between them. 

“Never one for hellos, are you?” Superman sighed.

“Hello,” she said. “Someone under your jurisdiction used the waters without doing the appropriate paperwork.”

He gave her a long, tired look, before picking up the petal and running his thumb over it. It looked much larger when held in his tiny hands, though he only did so for a short moment before tucking it into his chest pocket.

“I’ll look into it,” he promised.

“Look into what, exactly?” A new voice said.

Superman flinched and whirled around to send the Batman an exasperated look. “You and Talia are practically made for each other. Neither of you know how to greet someone.”

“Hello,” said Batman, his lips quirking upwards at the corners in amusement. “Pleasure seeing you today, Superman.”

Superman, always so impossible to please, simply shook his head, apparently deciding that it was best to simply move on:

“Should I worry about you two’s alliance?” he joked lightly. “I mean, you’re already painfully alike, this might become a problem.”

“If you were going to worry about any of that, you should have worried when we adopted our human son,” Talia said. “We are hardly any more bonded now.”

Batman, of course, had other plans. He leaned over Superman, smiling. “I could always have a kid with you as well. It might even things out for you.”

“You only want me for my potential to have kids,” Superman gasped.

“True.”

Superman pretended to wipe away a tear, but his twinkling laughter could never be mistaken for crying.

For just a moment, Talia thought that Superman was so… light, like the realm that he ruled over. So unbelievably bright that it felt like he would have been able to float even if he hadn’t been a fae. He was so pleasant. Much more so than the people of her own realm, not hardened by the elements in the way that the people of the In-Between were.

She quickly dismissed that thought. It was a common misconception, but a misconception nonetheless. Because, for all that Superman was seemingly endlessly happy, small enough to throw, and prone to literally glowing when he was happy enough… he was also a Sprite. And that was their entire method of garnering victims. They would lure humans in, and only once they were so hopelessly lost that they could never get back home and their legs were stuck in a terrible bog they couldn’t escape from, would the Sprite get close enough for the person to realize that their teeth were razor-sharp.

Perhaps it was a good thing that she was going to be gaining a proper heir, while Superman wasn’t. She hadn’t been paying enough attention to his movements as of late, too easily disarmed by his charming smiles and pleasant demeanor and insistence on seemingly useless things like whether someone had greeted him properly or not… and now the idea of him gaining even that little piece of power made her skin crawl. At least it seemed as if that would not be happening anytime soon, since he had fallen in love with that human and started bearing children with her instead of having True Fae children. That, plus the uprising in the land of the Day that she had heard whispers of, led by a faerie who called himself Kryptonite, should keep the man in front of her sufficiently distracted. He shouldn’t become a problem, much less a threat.

She smiled faintly at the thought, clapping her hands together once. “Let’s get this underway.”

Batman seemed relieved, though she doubted it was for the same reason as her. He started pulling a few jars from the satchel on his hip. They were all filled with tiny balls of light – of pure magic. They bounced around within their tiny walls, beating against their confines, the glass already starting to crack.

They wanted out.

Batman was happy to grant their wish, though perhaps not in the way they were hoping for. He dropped the jar in the water and, before it had even been allowed to shatter against the bottom, it collapsed in on itself. The water enveloped the magic, and even a few shards of glass, picking it up and starting to compress it.

Batman breathed a short sigh of relief.

She was grateful that the traditional offering of her people was far less complicated to obtain. Expensive, yes, and sometimes requiring a trip deeper underground in search of rarer gemstones, but this was hardly as exhausting as dealing with live magic.

Carefully, one by one, she set each and every gem in the water.

Pyrite for protection.

Moonstone for perceptiveness.

Carnelian for compassion.

Amber for balancing emotions and logic.

She hesitated here. The last gem in her bag wasn’t like the other four, which were either customary (what kind of parent would neglect to protect their child?) or traits that were necessary for the title and power he would one day possess, but what she considered next was not necessary.

Still, she wanted her child to have something beyond all of that.

So, quickly, as if she thought she would be stopped if she allowed people time to process it, she added aventurine for creativity.

The gems, too, were swept away to join the magic at the bottom of the pool. They began to press against each other, congealing into one mass, forced to combine under the water's strength, and then combine even more. As if the mingling gemstones and magic wasn’t enough, the water seemed determined to make them one on an atomic level. The magic and the minerals reacted, lighting up a too-bright red.

She hadn’t wanted to look away, she had wanted to see the exact moment her child was brought into the world, but it became too much to bear.

Regrettably, she turned her head.

Until she felt something brushed against her leg.

A small faerie came to wash up on the shore, bumping against her knee. They were curled up in a tight ball, tiny bat wings wrapped around themself tightly. Despite the fact that they had just come from the water, their dark locks were not the slightest bit wet.

She leaned in to tell Batman the names she had come up with, but he simply held up his hands, palms facing out.

“The deal was that the child is of your choosing.”

Talia mouthed a thanks before ducking down to whisper.

“Welcome to the world, Damian.”

When they opened their eyes, they were a vibrant green.

[mistpodfics]

All fae-n and games: Eat, Drink, and Be Faerie written by oliviaandersonisntmyrealnamelol | @olivia-anderson-fanfic

A Batman Podfic read by mistbornhero

Fae!Bruce panics upon realizing his first child won't eat anything he gives him, finds another child picking around his faerie ring, and decides "Yeah, I can capitalize on this".

Podfic Length: 33:59 minutes

[ayrennaranaaldmeri]

CANNOT BELIEVE virtuous had the AUDACITY to remove aldos othran's ICONIC drunk singing from the game? 0/10 remaster

[xylo-bones2]

generally id say i see fae and almer both as unlabeled and just really Weird(positive) with gender but also i love niche hyperspecific labels so i will attempt to find ones that fit their extremely specifc gender situations

[cursedcola]

Prompt: Couples will evidently begin to mimic their better half after some time. What traits do you steal from him, and vice versa? Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Everyone - because I want to and I’m amidst fleshing out all my Yuu/Character dynamics + designs Format: Headcannons. Masterlist: LinkedUP Parts: Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde (Here) | Diasomnia (Here) A/N: HUZZAH YET ANOTHER SERIES FINALLY COMPLETE

Habits You Steal:

Heels (Developed): Malleus is quite tall. No, scratch that. He towers over everyone. The horns give him an added height that really sells the deal. Unless you want to crane your neck back and develop a hump? It's wise to start wearing heels.

Prose (Inherited): Malleus. We love his little riddles and mysterious aura . He obviously read the wrong script and came straight out of an early 2000s YA novel named 'Evermore' or something akin. Yet he quite literally cannot get to the point sometimes. It’s a Diasomnia thing for sure but he’s the worst of the litter. It's infuriating. On one hand, your vocabulary has vastly improved. If only he could rub off on Grim, Professor Trein would be ecstatic. The problem is that sometimes you lapse into an 18th century sonnet, and your friends give maximum shit for it. Especially Ace. No mercy.

“Apologies everyone, it’s now past twilight hour and both the prefect and I need to conclude our evening agenda. Please excuse our absence and continue to delight in the night’s festivities.”-> Dear god Malleus - just say you’re going to walk them home and that you’ll see everyone in the morning. The misunderstandings that come from using big words is worse than sounding improper.

Sleeping on your side (Developed): Malleus requires a special pillow to sleep and it's one of those long ones that is positioned center of the bed. Most nights he rests like the dead, flat on his back so his horns don't tear the cloth. Laying on his side is a challenge, but he also wants to be touching you. It's one of those scenarios where once someone who's touch starved gets a taste, they can't go back. So most nights you'll sleep on one side (doesn't matter which) with either your head on his chest or your arms wrapped around one of his. Oh yeah - you get to keep one of those fancy pillows in Ramshackle. It's stored in a spare room but grim steals it quite a bit since the quality is high. The nights Malleus isn't around, you'll wake up with Grim smothered in your arms instead. Guess the whole 'can't go back' thing doesn't apply ONLY to Malleus here.

Luck (Inherited?): Fae blessings are a thing - we have confirmation within a 'discussion' during the main plot. I won't say when to avoid spoilers. Point is, the partner of Malleus Draconia most definitely has fae favorability cast upon them. You could make a HEFTY deal with Azul if he ever found out, so maybe keep the knowledge in your back pocket for a rainy day. Maybe offer to sit by him during a game of poker? Haha, no. You're actually 100% unaware. Only other fae can sense a blessing, and Lilia isn't a snitch. Expect your luck to turn around. Perhaps not entirely, but enough for the grey hairs to stop sprouting prematurely. It's difficult for other fae and supernatural to sense who placed a blessing, but they can recognize raw power. There is only one person on campus with enough magical potency to cast such a powerful charm. All thy need is two brain cells to connect the dots (some do lack this, unfortunately). You won't be sucked into any messes such as the Ghost Bride, etc. anymore, at the very least.

"Hm? I've little to no involvement with the others in my dorm, dearest. Yet, is it not a good happenstance that they treat you with the upmost respect? Do other dorms behave so uncouth that you are wary of proper manners? Diasomnia would welcome you, all you need do is ask." <- It is technically not a lie? He's not explicitly making anyone behave a certain way, but surely the strong aura acts as a deterrent for anyone with bad intentions. It just so happens that most fae-born students reside in Diasomnia. Not that he'd take kindly to any of his acting like anything but proper gentlemen towards you. This includes Sebek, by the way. The tonal whiplash with this one is insane the moment he recognizes Malleus' magic.

Gargoyles (Inherited): There is not much to say on this topic. Malleus is the sole member of Gargoyle Studies, and while he won't force you to join? It would make him very happy. You will become accustomed to travel and find comfort in desolate places. The dewy chill in deep ruins, nature's overgrowth from time's passing - certainly Malleus revisits places he once knew held life, and have been left to deteriorate. You can't truly feel the heavy nostalgia as Malleus can, but the appreciation is still shared.

"I once deeply enjoyed the solitude of ruins. The weathering of time somehow captured in architecture. Trapped in place as the world continued to live on. Yet I now find more joy in sharing them with you, rather than basking in their atmosphere alone. It perplexes me, and yet I find no problem with it." -> Malleus discovered the happiness that comes from simply being near someone you love. He just...doesn't realize it yet? It's a difficult feeling to characterize in words. Different than with his family, certainly. The entire point of going to a ruin was to enjoy the abandoned atmosphere. Malleus cares for his family yet there is a divide. Unspoken, and unable to be crossed. His world turns while he remains at a stand still. Yet whenever he discovers a new ruin, he couldn't find that tranquility he used to. Enjoying it alone is almost unthinkable - harrowing. He can't without you, or else it feels lacking. Even if you sit together in silence, he'd be happy. He just wants you there, your reactions, your company - it brings life back to the emptiness. Leaving the place more harmonious than he found it, coating it with pleasant memories for future visits. Hopefully ones where he is not alone.

Habits He Steals:

Artistry (Developed): Malleus has plenty of time to develop skills. The resources as well. He's fearful that one day your memory will become just that - a memory. One where he cannot picture your face in his mind. Where he's the only one left who recalls your existence. Be it because you pass on, or decide to leave him prematurely and return 'home'. Even if he firmly believes that there is nowhere more 'home' for you than in Twisted Wonderland. Regardless, he doesn't trust others enough. He needs to capture your likeness on his own. With his hands rather than magic - even if using magic to do so is child's play. He does not tell anyone of this budding desire or disquiet in his heart. Not even Lilia, who's likeness is forever immortalized in textbooks. The unspoken implications are too much for Malleus to confront.

People Watching (Inherited): It’s a work-in-progress, getting Malleus to see people as…well, ‘people’ and not subjects or those he’s obligated to protect. To cure his social awkwardness, there’s a need to get him ‘loosey-goosey’ and in touch with improv. What better way than to people watch? Except you don’t just sit there with him to observe. Malleus is thrown for a loop when you start making up backstories for everyone - based on their clothes, what they might be doing, or whatever else. None of it’s true. The ideas are all super embellished and with characterization holes…but it’s fun, and it gets him to think about how specific a person’s life can become, whether they live a lengthy life or not. Something utterly pointless to do, suddenly becomes one of Malleus’ favorite pass times.

Earth Slang (Inherited): It's a give and trade scenario. He improves your vocabulary, while you do Lilia proud by being the newest gremlin on Malleus' shoulder. Rather than teaching him Twisted Wonderland slang, it's much more entertaining for him to learn Earth lingo. Which is different. It's our metaphors, legends, and phrases like 'it's raining cats and dogs'. You're going to talk in SpongeBob quotes to him and he's going to believe it's philosophical. How novel, indeed. He gets to learn more about you as a person, and you get to have a bit of fun while also fostering a language shared only amongst the two of you? Like a secret code that friends have, or lovers? Huhu. It's not hard to crack at all but still fun.

"Hm? An 'updog'? Is this another saying or legend from your world? No, I have never heard of an 'updog' anywhere in Briar Valley. What is an 'updog'? A terror of some kind?" <- Heh.

Domestic Tasks (Inherited): Be still Sebek's heart, because bro might need to be resuscitated. Malleus wants to help you. Except he's found a situation where there isn't anything he can offer? Sure, he can offer coin and trinkets. Anyone can. It also is not his place to insert himself and solve your problems. You're an independent human and he isn't foolish enough to overstep that. So? Acts of service, even if said acts are 'beneath' him. This revolves back to him simply enjoying your presence, no matter what. Since you come with him to enjoy hobbies, it's only fair he does the same. Now he doesn't fully believe that you 'like' cleaning, but it's what you do most. So he'll help hang the sheets outside and then cast wind magic so they dry faster. He'll set up security charms outside Ramshackle, and enchant the paint brushes to freshen up your fence while you both share a pot of tea on the porch. You seem happy, and even a tad amused. So he'll relinquish some pride. If only for you to smile.

“Do all without magic need to take such…’extreme’ measures to clean windows? Please do not perch on the sill like this when I am not near. Else allow me this task, a simple water spell is far more proficient and safe” -> Man catches you ONE TIME, leaning out one of the second story windows to clean the outside glass and his heart skips a beat. Not that you wouldn’t make a lovely gargoyle on the roof, but spare him. He cannot fathom why one of the ghost residents can’t do it in your stead, but Malleus much prefers your feet planted on firm flooring (who’s going to tell him about all the holes and weak floorboards in Ramshackle?)

Nicknames (Developed): Malleus ceases calling you 'Child of Man'. There are many other children of men. It just so happens to be his default when you met. You are more. Much more. Which is why you cannot be his 'Child of Man'. Malleus actually takes to calling you your name more often than not. Names are meaningful, after all. Yet he dubs you 'Mooncalf' as well.

“Mooncalves are beautiful creatures that inspire. A name given to ‘those who dream’. That is what you do, is it not? Dream, and bring novel ideas that spark life in others.”

Strength (Developed): This is quite difficult. Controlling his strength when touching another is like trying to crack an eggshell with a power-saw. Yet the more you are together, the more he desires to touch you. So he has to learn. Since if he ever injured you, Malleus would never forgive himself. Often he hovers near, guiding you yet never making direct contact. His palm hovering near the small of your back as you walk, or taking extreme care when holding your arm. He's broken more teapots than you can count, and it takes months to share a bed. The fear of hitting you in his sleep caused insomnia for days...just, goodness. Don't even start on his tail. That thing has a mind of it's own.

"Fascinating...Hm?. No, no. I am by no means upset. Quite the contrary. Could I trouble you to humor my curiosity with examples? Oho, this is a wonderful evening indeed." <- Malleus showcases one of his pointed smiles - chin grasped between thumb and index as he listens intently to his juniors go in great detail about how you've begun to resemble him. The one other students will shy away from, but little do they know just how genuinely overjoyed he is. At first they showed mild distaste for the Ramshackle Prefect daring to go after someone like Malleus Draconia, yet all know better than to admit such a thing to his face. Else pity the fool. Yet nothing could dour his mood, their formal report reading like a lovestory in his mind. It is not that he is 'naive' to your mannerisms. You are always changing - as are many - and he would not dare to make any assumptions. Yet if others are noting these subtle changes as well? Malleus is...overwhelmed. Joy, appreciation, humor, and a bit unsettled if one asked for full honesty. If you are admiring him, including him in your person, as much as he is to you? It's an intimate commitment that comes once in a lifetime for his kind. He needs to think, but for now he will enjoy the 'implications' as much as he can.

Habits you steal:

Light Feet (Inherited): The king of jump-scares, ladies and gentlemen. Lilia is quite the cheeky fellow. He wades through corridors, skulking around like a bat on the walls. Both body and humor seem to ascend to new heights with this one - who without a moment's hesitation will drag you into his schemes. You may not be able to float, but that is no excuse to clomp about like an oaf! No, my doves, the greatest joys in life come from a good thrill. Others learn to keep a keen eye out for this bat's lover, as you slink about and appear at the most random moments.

"Oho!....my, my - your stealth is improving by the day. Don't get too cocky now, else I'll be forced to show you how a professional jump-scare is done!" <- Leona KingScholar himself has threatened to stick a bell collar on you, those from Savanaclaw taking a step back as you begin to resemble the more worrisome Diasomnia residents by the day. Dropping from treetops and banisters aplenty, the trickster ghosts at Ramshackle love their new fourth (and fifth, counting the ancient bat who haunts the halls just as much as they do).

Impish Glint (Inherited): Kehehehe~ it's physically impossible not to mimic that mischief laden smile of Lilia's! It's not as intimidating without the fangs and blood-red eyes, yet still oh-so charming. Why, the bat himself finds it positively adorable. It's one thing to have others call him cute - he now gets to witness the effect first-hand. The fact others can point your resemblance to him is just an added bonus. All you're missing now is the pink streak in your hair...can he? It would make such a lovely memory!

"Well aren't you just the most fetching gremlin this world has ever seen. Come along dear, I want to stir some youthful envy!"

Nose Picking (Inherited): Just kidding lol.

Historical Info-Dumping (Developed): One can only be corrected so many times before learning a topic inside-and-out. History lessons are a breeze with a personal dictionary at your disposal. Lilia is happy to help, but get ready for long stories with his bias weaved in-between. He never outright lies though, and it's a fine evening to sit with him by firelight and talk the night away over junk food. Treat it like hearing the story of an elder veteran. Except Lila has hundreds of stories to tell. There will come a day where your knowledge abut Twisted Wonderland extends far beyond what you ever knew of Earth - and you are the person people come to for notes. Even the studious Riddle Rosehearts trusts your word-of-mouth as much as his precious texts (only for history though, fair warning).

Speed Dial Takeout (Developed): This one is self-explanatory. Lilia's curiosity in the kitchen isn't something you want to deter him from. Let bro live his life, so long as it doesn't lead to the end of yours. It took months to find the TWST equivalent of speed-dial Chinese, yet a slip to Azul along with some recipes was enough to get the ol' ball and chain rolling. The food already exists, but you just had to plant some ideas to make sure that 3am last-second-craving availability was indeed an option.

"Don't look so glum now - once the oven is fixed I'll whip up a batch of Silver's favorite Mushroom Bisque! Ah - there's no need to cry. Now where did I put those takeout menus...." <- Now it's just Lils, Silver, and yourself chilling out at midnight with some egg rolls and moo-goo-gai pan after the fourth oven's been blown up in the past year. Thank Seven Malleus worked a plan with Azul set up a chain in Briar Valley, else y'all would starved.

Briaran (Inherited) : Briar Valley is indeed a land of tradition. You don’t need to learn their language to converse with fae. Most people in TWST are Bilingual - knowing common tongue and that of their homeland. Plus there are spells to help. Very few speak the ancient dialect from hundreds of years ago, which dwindled out after the war between man and fae with the ushering of a new generation. You already speak common tongue, but as for Lilia? Fluent in multiple languages. Ancient Briaran being one he slips in from time to time. You will undoubtably pick up many phrases of Briaran. Especially when he converses with Malleus, Silver, and on occasion Sebek. The third still a beginner to his personal chagrin. It’s like being a child in an immigrant household where your elders talk in their native tongue when they don’t want you to understand the conversation, so as a kid you gradually put together meanings through context. Y’know, as they go in between languages.

"I hadn't thought it possible to fall fall deeper in love - yet as always, you continue to surprise me." <- Lilia never asked you to learn, but nothing makes him melt faster than seeing you pick it up. You’re listening to him. He won’t ever jest over this, no matter how tempting, afraid it might deter you. He adores the way you mumble words under your breath, even if they’re mispronounced. He will only interfere if you ask, and be more than willing to teach. Ask him.

Habits He Steals:

Walking (Developed): Aside from when he's cheeky and looking to have some fun? Lilia will not float near you. He prefers to walk, feet firm on the ground, his hand in yours and enjoy the sweet serenity. There isn't a need to rush. Not anymore. Strolls with Malleus are a commonly discussed subject, but with Lilia? It's less like a sonnet in steps and more akin to walking the streets on a cold, winter night. Plenty of laughter as your linked arms swing between. Somehow slowing your steps on purpose, drawing out the time shared. Even if your lungs hurt a bit and joints are stiff. You don't have to. He could easily zip you both wherever need be, but the journey is part of the fun. He's gone his entire life at differing paces - and now Lilia is happy to match his final gait alongside yours.

Repeating Others (Developed): This goes hand-in-hand with you learning Briaran. Without prompting, Lilia will often repeat things his sons just said in common tongue. Sometimes dropping context clues so you can piece things easier. Not in a way that makes it obvious for you (sparing your feelings), but definitely noticeable to others in the Valley. It's an unspoken understanding not to ask 'why' he repeats himself two maybe three times tops.

"...eh? Scuzele mele. Ne vom întâlni în trei ore pentru antrenament. Da. Pentru practică. Asigurați-vă că nu vă zăboviți, altfel veți rata antrenamentul! - why that face, Sebek? Careful or your muscles will freeze like that khee hee!" <- Does it come unnatural? Maybe, but two out of three of his conversation partners can usually pick up when you're struggling to understand something. Sebek fails, but wouldn't dare question Lilia's speech and risk offending him. Translation: "My apologies. We'll meet in three hours for practice. Yes. For practice. Make sure you don't linger, or you'll miss practice!"

Intimacy (Inherited): Lilia is cheeky with most, but not touchy-feely. Not in the way that matters. He becomes clingy. It's odd being with someone actively seeking to be at his side all the time...and yet he does not mind. Which is unheard of for the loner - he spent 700 years of solo trips, wouldn't change a single one (okay, maybe a few. He could do without some scars), but the taste of a couple's vacation? A couple's intimacy? Romanic candle-lit dinners atop the castle ramparts, legs dangling over the edge as mindless talk comes and goes. Hiking through mountains hand-in-hand. Running raids online, shouting at each other from the next room? Sipping mimosas on a cruise ship - picking out souvenirs for your family an tasting cuisine. Even if it's places he's been before...with you? It's all new.

""You know...it was quite cruel of you to leave me behind. When? On that little journey to Fleur City, of course! Be it ten years ago or not - I understood at the time that it was a decision out of your hands, and yet you hadn't brought me any souvenirs...the hurt lingers to this very day and can only be healed through another vacation, won't you be my guide this time around?"

Normalcy (Developed): Lilia actively pushes the cute bit with others. Many portray his character as two sides of one coin: Lilia the General, and Lilia the Cheeky Prankster. What you get to see is...just Lilia. Not even Lilia The Father - because even with his kids, he has a part to play. Has to set a good example. Is it corny to say that he doesn't have to act cute for you, because he trusts you'll adore him? Isn't that what love is? To truly release your guard around him and not stress? It's like how on earth we all have our work mode, family mode, public mode, and then...well, us. The person we are when in a quiet room, alone, and simply being. That is the Lilia you, and only you, get to see. Lilia wouldn't get involved with someone that couldn't bring this side out of him. The one jamming out to metal while pretzeled on the ground, sifting through his wardrobe and eating burnt crisps out of a bag with chopsticks.

Time (Developed): In his last hundred years of life, with his magic dwindling, Lilia casts a glamour that lets him physically age with you. Not technically a habit, but also something he would never have spared the energy on without you as a deciding factor. Time comes for us all. He’d rather not emphasize this to his sons more than necessary…but they’ll watch you age. In an odd way, this is Lilia’s greatest ode to you. To them. To himself. You won’t have to age alone, watching him in a standstill as he’s been the past 700 years. This is his final thrilling experience, his final adventure- to grey and feel time in his blood beyond magic.

"You are as lovely as the day we first met, dear...surely I'm just as cute too, no?" <- No matter how quick you reply, he still is the same cheeky lil shit at 780 as he was at 700. Only with one heavy case of arthritis.

Nicknames (Developed): Lilia calls you ��Dove’ for reasons best derived on your own rather than my telling. He will also be an ass and use teasing ones like 'shnookums' and 'poppet', but dove is for the softer times. On very rare occasions he will say ‘inima mea’ which is Romanian for My Heart, also known as Briaran in the world of TWST.

"Why, thank you! Kee hee hee, is it so obvious that I adore my little dove beyond comprehension? I've finally found my 'partner-in-crime' as you kids say, and my days have not been this lively in many years. Humor the musings of this old-timer, enjoy the blessings life offers while they are within your grasp." == Those who have lived as long as Lilia in Briar Valley are witnesses to his personality change. The general from hundreds of years ago is not the same bat flying about. He's a prime example for fae and humans alike that time changes us all - and so he doesn't mind popping in to humor gossiping soldiers. If anything, he hopes his open adoration serves as an example that it's never too late to welcome sweeter things in life. Family, friends, adventure, and even the once in a lifetime 'eternal love'.

Habits you steal:

Calling Lilia ‘Dad’ (Inherited?): Not Father. Just Dad. Daddio. Peepaw. Pops. Ye old man. So informal. So funny. Lilia loves it and Silver turns red every time. One? Because you’re already thinking of him and his Father as your family. Two? Please. Please, let him breathe. Flustered is the most consistent emotion he shows aside from that graceful little smile of his, and people are starting to notice. He’s not used to such bluntness and it’s killing him. You need to be more careful! Not everyone knows about his situation! Lilia is such cheeky as shit over it and teases his son every off moment. Welcome to the Vanrogue’s, my friend. It’s a clusterf*ck. You’re going to love it.

“…N-no, I haven’t seen father since lunch. Perhaps check over near the club rooms. I can escort you before my next lesson, come along and take my hand.” -> Silver will never get used to you asking ‘Hey, have you seen Dad anywhere?’. He bites back the warning for you to lower your volume. It’s turmoil - truly. He doesn’t want you to ‘stop’ per-say…but maybe keep it in private? He adores your energy but the rumors.

Compliments (Inherited): Silver gets plenty of compliments. He’s amazing, after all. This is a habit because his reactions are priceless. Why is it developed? Because the man in question is the most wholesome being to exist. He effortlessly drops one-liners out of thin air, and then has the gull to act confused when you clutch at your chest. Silver is brutally honest when it counts. His words and his reactions are genuine. Truly priceless. His confidence desperately needs that bolstering, so much that you never go a single visit without paying him a compliment. It’s only fair. You do it until he takes them with anything other than a pass off or a denial. Even after, because appreciating Silver is the best part of your day. Congrats. You’re a simp. Big Ol’ simp - side note, being so forward for his sake has turned you confident in other aspects of life as well. Congrats on being the social one.

"Your hands are unnaturally soft for a student. Perhaps I am used to callus' from training, but yours are warm enough to feel through my gloves. I heard once that you can tell a lot about a person by their hands. Yours must reflect a gentle personality, which is true - hm? What's wrong?" <-Wholesome. Fucking wholesome.

Animals (Inherited): How do you feel about woodland creatures? Would you consider raising bunnies, or leaving the window open in the mornings for songbirds to perch? The answer is yes. Always yes. Otherwise they will whack at the glass until you do. Silver is beloved by nature. Being around Silver means being around all the animals that perch at his side when he clocks out in random places. Eventually you'll be waiting with birdseed in your pocket, prepped to distract those that perch on his head. Ramshackle has multiple bird baths out in the gardens, and you've built shelters for the wildlife on campus to camp out in when they visit (always when Silver does. Coincidence? No).

Just Chilling (Developed): Not relationship-exclusive. Any time you find Silver clocked out, it’s instinctual to just drop everything and lay down next to him so it looks like you’re both chilling out. Doesn’t matter if he’s asleep for ten minutes or two hours - you don’t leave him. Not unless someone trustworthy comes to take your place.

Haircuts (Developed): A lil snip here, a chop there - and you're cutting his hair in the kitchen at 9:00pm with one of the old sheets tied loosely around his neck like a bib. All it took was one time for him to nick his ear while doing it himself, and you so graciously forced him in a chair. Now you cut both his and his father's hair. Since Lilia's a little turd, and if Silver gets a freebie than so should peepaw. Briar Valley could use another stylist, y'know. You already have two loyal clients!

"Thank you. My bangs can get in the way of my training, so I try to keep them short. Maybe I should adapt a cut similar to Kalim's?....Why are you looking at me like that?" <- Kalim's hair is adorable, but if Silver cuts off his shimmering silk-soft locks it will literally be a crime against cosmetology.

Alarms (Inherited): You sleep through alarms. There isn't much to say. Have you seen his bedroom? There's like - a dozen clocks in there. The only one that gets him up is you, usually whacking him with a pillow because no amount of love will ever make up for dealing with nonstop ringing every morning. You started off having a near heart attack on the first night. A few years down the road, and it takes about 2-4 of the clocks to go off before you're up.

The Way Of The Sword (Inherited and Developed?): Another one without much to elaborate. Silver insists on teaching you some swordsmanship. He does not play around either, and is a very stern teacher. Lilia engrained the danger of weaponry and battle into him from childhood.

"Steel your nerves. They will only impede your progress. Do not worry about anything other than my instruction while there is a blade in your hand. I am here for that." <-The sword exists to protect, but that does not mean you are invincible. He won't put you through a Knight's training - but as one of the few 'sane' people? Homie, you really need to learn some self defense. It isn't even about his feelings (although he does worry).You are a walking magnet for bad luck, and a firm understanding of defensive combat is necessary so you don't end up dead in a ditch.

Habits He Steals:

Wet Wipes (Developed) : It’s so tempting to draw on Silver when he’s complete zonked out in the ninth dimension. How he hasn’t woken up to any uh…hehe, ‘special’ and ‘totally not vulgar’ images all over him on a daily basis is an honest shock. Especially in a campus full of dudes. Some not so friendly with the whole dorm rivalry going on. Then again…maybe it’s his aura. Drawing a dick on Silver’s forehead feels like a crime punishable by Lilia’s homemade gazpacho.

"...I sense a disturbance." <- Regardless. It’s your civic duty to make him a work of art…much to Silver’s reluctant compliance. Some day’s it’s heartwarming. He’ll wake up and find little hearts on his cheeks, or a note on his collarbone. A lipstick kiss left smack center of his forehead…which takes endless scrubbing to get off before equestrian club. "Mngh...ah, you're here father? I could smell jasmine and oakwood and thought - wait, isn't that MC's pencil case?" <- Other days Silver wakes up covered in tic tac toe games with his father snickering over him and your form making a speedy guilt-ridden retreat off in the distance - and yes, Ramshackle smells of Jasmine and Oakwood. From repairs and the herbal cleanings.

You’ve Got Mail (Developed): Squirrels make good messengers. It helps that you live in a dilapidated dorm with a lovely forest not too far for them to skitter about. It would be troublesome if you lived somewhere like Heartslabyul…Riddle would never allow Silver’s animal friends to stay. Since you’re so open to suggestion, and skittering about yourself, he’s made a habit out of using the animals for communication.

"Please take this gift to them, would you? Today is a special day, I must take precautions not to forget." <- He’s not too big on phones since he might pass out and miss a call…or forget. So Silver likes to pen his notes when he can and trust his little buddies to make sure you get them. It especially helps with big events like anniversaries or days he cannot make it home.

Mints (Inherited): Someone get this man an Altoid, stat. Whatever curse is on his ass, crack open that tin and shove three strong peppermints between his teeth. They’ll spark more than just a crack of the great beyond in him. Giving Silver a tin of strong mints is like giving a Victorian child one singular sour patch kid. You carry the things around to punish Grim. Y’all know it’s bad if the living garbage disposal won’t even eat them….now if we could just somehow compress Lilia’s cooking into a pill form, we might be onto something bigger.

"This is a remedy from your world? Oh - it's candy? Maybe it will work then...thank you. I'll update you if there are any changes."

The Open End (Developed): Silver’s precautions extend to all matters, big or small. He’s trained to be Malleus’ guard since he was a little boy, going through strict training and beyond in order to match royal standards. Some might think him cold, but his father raised him to care deeply, truly, and so he is proactive in ensuring your comfort. When at the cinema, he sits in the inner seat. Both so he’s blocking you from strangers and so you can have the chair with two arm rests. He walks on the street side of the sidewalk, shares his umbrella but covers you fully at the cost of his sleeve, gives you more of the blanket at night and once gave you his shoes when yours were pinching your toes. If there are two cupcakes, he pushes you the one with more sprinkles, and he never forgets to ask how your day is.

"Are you happy today?...I see. That's good. I've been working hard to not disappoint you as a partner. It is nice to know my efforts have been yielding results." <- Ever the hard worker. Silver works on your relationship like it's training - but not in a bad way. He just doesn't want to reflect poorly on you, especially when this is new to him and tracking his performance in a relationship isn't the same as studies or physical training. He could do with some verbal affirmations, just saying.

Smelling Salts (Developed) : Silver does not want to sleep all the time. He is determined to overcome it - and you support him by suggesting method after method. Sometimes it takes an otherworldly person to bring in new ideas? Another cook in the kitchen, y'know. Can you believe that in all of Twisted Wonderland, with their fancy shmancy potions and charms, no one thought to get him military-grade smelling salts (or trigger his fight/flight by putting a bit of Lilia's pot roast in front of his nose)? His curse is potent, but it staves the episode off just enough for him to get to a bench or out of a clearing. I swear - magic spoiled these people. It's a blessing and a curse. It's no cure but he'll take anything at this point. Who knows what other ideas you might bring.

"Mm...thank you. I am lucky to have someone as wonderful as them in my life. I strive to be a good partner and influence. Your compliment makes me quite happy. I will be sure to pass on the message." <- Silver's expressions are typically difficult to read, they're so miniscule. Yet it would take a blind man to miss the way his disposition softens. One might mistake the far-away look in his eye for an incoming siesta, but no. He's merely in love and excited to tell you how appreciative he is to have you in his life. Whatever dreams he has that night, you're in them. As always.

Habits you steal:

Volume (Inherited) : Spoken like a true Queen. Literally. Sebek’s volume blasts your eardrums like a child’s screech plugged into an amplifier broadcasted over the Night Raven intercom. Mans has his vocals, there’s no doubt about it. The thing is that Sebek won’t stop until he’s been heard, so you have to get loud for him to listen. That can be hard to tone down when he’s not around, and you have to remind yourself that Epel will hear you just fine at a level 2 not 6.

"Disrespectful! My human can speak to their desire, apologize for suggesting otherwise this very instant. It is an honor to hear their voice!" <-Aye...sometimes your volume hits the frequency where people cover their ears, just as they do for him. He misinterprets this as a smite on your freedom of speech.

Gotta Keep Up (Developed): Get those legs moving prefect. Ya gotta go sonic fast. Sebek-y long legs over here moves in big strides. Big strides for his big personality. One of his steps is the equivalent to three of yours, no matter how tall or jittery you are. He will out jitter you with his Type-A pacing. You’d think he was on a mission and not on a date with how Sebek zooms through a shopping mall. Sebek, honey, we’re here to buy clothes, not race the evil sales clerk and save Malleus from the storage room.

Bookies (Inherited): You never know when you’ll be stuck waiting around or following Malleus with him. Sometimes it’s a sacrifice you have to make for some quality time together, and it’s not so bad. Malleus is cool with it, Silver’s good company, and Lilia is mildly stressful company. You could just go on your phone to pass the time, but Sebek limits your screen time. No IPad partners or brain rot on his watch. Read a book. Don’t make him quiz you, ‘cause he will.

"I have been thinking to start a book club, and you can be the first among many initiates! This week we will be reading My Liege's autobiography as sourced from the Royal Palace. I can think of no better introduction!" <- Dear god, he'll put in the request too. Stop him. You love Malleus to pieces but 600 pages on his birth alone is just destructive.

Prim and Proper (Developed): It’s a bit hilarious that he takes personal offense when you’re not groomed properly. Especially when near Malleus (of course). If you want to follow with the troupe, you need to look the part. He’d likely ask for a Diasomnia uniform on your behalf if it wasn’t against the school dress code. Secretly though? He enjoys fixing your tie, hair, etc. It makes him feel useful but that sweet emotion gets masked by a scolding.

"Tsk. It is an honor to wear this uniform. You should take precautions to ensure your appearance doesn't reflect on Lord Malleus. As his chosen friend and my partner, you are a representative of Briar Valley. Step forward and allow me to preform an inspection." <- Sebek has more than one jealous bones in his body. They’re all jealous bones. Make sure he’s the one to fix your tie and not Rosehearts, unless you want him to sulk.

Battery Pack (Developed): Lowkey? Sebek zaps you frequently. Think the electric buzz from pulling out a plug too quick. The sparkles come out when he gets very emotional - which is all the time. So…yeah, you might secretly carry ointment for that. Don’t tell him? He feels awful. Not awful enough to stay calm when you ask him to charge your phone. Jokes on him. The anger zap brought it to 100%.

Habits he steals:

Response (Developed): Sebek has this teensey-weensey annoying habit of answering on your behalf. He thinks it a way of proving his devotion. Partners are meant to know each other down to the tiniest detail, no? So when he responds correctly, it’s like he’s passing a test by knowing exactly what you’d want.

"They will do no such thing! Your childish antics will only reflect poorly on your dormitory. You will not taint them into participating in needlessly reckless activities!" <- While his intentions are pure, the act itself can be frustrating. Especially when he puts his values in your mouth when chatting with friends. It’s a work in progress, but he will still become overzealous to order your coffee or recall your schedule if asked.

Handkerchief (Developed): Exchanging handkerchief with one’s partner was a popular courting method in the past. Considering the handkerchief Sebek carries is meant for his lord, him offering it to you is a grand gesture. Especially since he does not replace it with one meant for Malleus, as this is something exclusive to lovers, and carries one from you instead. If you don’t have one? Well - expect to get one asap. Author’s authority dictates that you will not disappoint him.

"The embroidery on this handkerchief is exquisite. According to Master Lilia, it is the same style as lacework from my homeland's establishment...and it is yours. Please accept this as a token of my affections."

Portrait (Developed): Sebek keeps your picture hidden at NRC. There's one stuck between his mattress and the boxboard, one behind his ID card in his wallet, and a small portrait he keeps taped under his deckchair. He cannot properly display it like Malleus' - partially from not wanting to disrespect his Lord and partially from bein emotionally constipated. Expect the exact opposite when he is older though. Listen. Do not try to tell me this man wouldn't commission an extra-large oil painting of his spouse to hang up in his barracks room in the palace. He's literally the blueprint of a fanboy, and if there's no available merch then us nerds get to commissioning.

Escort (Developed): Sebek Zigvolt can and will sit in the husbands' chair while you try on clothes in the store. He will carry your bedazzled hot-pink purse with pride, guarding the thing like it's worth millions. You can leave your cup with this one when at a ball worry-free. You have somewhere to be and he isn't on duty? Sebek is hot on your heels. He has no shame. Better yet? He's the one shaming anyone unable to do such simple things.

Gotta Slow Down (Developed) : Pairs with 'Gotta Keep Up' as he tries to match your stubby legs. At first Sebek attributed your slow pace to a lack of stamina, but no. He's just a jitterbug. Obviously he can't tug you along or stop every other minute for you to catch up either. It's funny watching you both try and forget to consider the other. On loop, a never-ending cycle. NRC hasn't seen a pairing like this in centuries.

Chivalry is not dead (Inherited...just not from you) : Lilia fucks with him and you’re subjected to many, many odd courting attempts…some he unironically takes a liking to.

"What must I do for you to reciprocate my intentions?! I have bestowed pearls shucked with my own hands, invited you to dance under moonlight, hung dried thyme over every door and given earthly offerings to all your kin! I implore you for transparency this instant!" <- Oh...oh, His trust in your batty elder wanes for months after being tricked so cruelly. Only until you accept (out of pity?). Then he feels guilty for ever doubting Lilia and begs for forgiveness. At least life never gets boring? Haha...hah...ha...

‘My human’ (Developed) : Sebek gets hit hard with a crippling awareness for your mental well being. He defended your 'honor' once and had it thrown in his face that he calls you a human more than your own name. Old habits die hard, and he prostrates himself on the ground as an apology. He really didn’t realize it came off so derogatory. Especially considering your relationship. Felt awful. Apologized profusely. Only says it in an affectionate way or with pride now. Tacking in the ‘my’ makes it better somehow? It's a work in progress.

"An apology is in order. My actions until now were unbecoming, and I am truly repentant. I cannot begin to beg for forgiveness, knowing that my words have struck you. I was wrong. You are no mere human, you are my human. A very special one whom I could not have foreseen in this lifetime" <- You know it's bothering him when he takes a gentle tone, looking directly in your eyes with shame open on display. Responsible enough not to look away and face his wrongdoing in the face. Even after you forgive him, Sebek will carry this lesson with him forever.

Flower preference (Inherited): In the language of flowers, which means a great deal to fae kind, he goes for the one associated with your birth month. Carries a pressed one as a bookmark, changes his cologne, and places a vase of blooms by his bedside that never seem to wilt.

"It is an honor! I shall never cease striving to improve. It is only natural that my partner does the same. Your acknowledgement is noted and appreciated. Please continue to treat them well." == Insulting Sebek is a challenge. The comment could be made with the most nasty undertone, but he only hears that you're behaving like a model citizen. You must, if you are beginning to resemble him in so many ways. Hearing that you are a positive influence on him is nothing short of baseline knowledge. Of course you are? He picked you to be his partner? Honestly. If people have time to sit around and gossip, they could go do something more productive.

Habits you steal:

Acronyms (Inherited): Does this truly come as a shock? Big L on your part if so. C'mon, this is Idia we're talking about here. Bro cannot go two sentences without pullin' some quote out of his mental backlog. Since you're stuck in TWST, not watching their culturally founding shows and cartoons is a crime. You'll be speaking in pseudo-lingo like how Spongebob quotes make their own language around these parts.

"Whehehe way to debuff your charisma stat - you might want to craft some mimic gear before Professor Trein locks ya in detention....n-not that I care! It's just that I'll have to solo tonight's raid and you're the one with the rotation buffed character!" <- On one hand? You get all his jokes and are able to translate what he says to other people. That's good. Less work for Idia. On the other hand? You get all his jokes and are able to translate what he says to other people. They're totes going to make fun of you now and it'll be his fault. You'll get lingo-lashed by professors and feel burdened and - okay. He'll shut up now.

Evil Laugh Who? Villain Where? (Inherited): We all know Idia has two modes: nerdy and sofuckingarrogantheneedsacoldshower. You know exactly when he's feeling number two via his laugh. That over boisterous 'WHEE HEE HEE' which is way too high pitched to belong to a villain but perfect for when Idia's in the zone. It comes out when you're feeling especially ecstatic or embracing your inner gremlin. A bit more subdued than his, but you've seen him do it so many times that the adaptation is subconscious.

"Ah -?! What w-was?....No! NO I DIDNT SAY ANYTHING! Just hurry up before we gotta interact with more NPCS! Awahhh my blood pressure's already spiking back up..." <- He first caught it when you insisted on playing one of those cheap festival-games outside the main market in Fleur City. All he wanted was to grab a grape juice and get back to his group before they noticed he ditched, but you saw some handstitched plushies and just like in some mainstream otome, he just had to get it for you. It was easier than sitting there watching you get cheated by a sleaze. He was amidst convincing himself that he robbed you of the fun, handing the doll over while sucking down his second grape juice when he heard it - on one hand, is this what he sounds like to other people? Scratch that. No way he's this cute - wait. No. He didn't just think that -

Gatcha (Inherited): One of Idia's go-to hangouts is playing an MMO. The dude already gave you a console as a gift for what happened at S.T.Y.X. One inkling of interest towards one of his main games and he won't hesitate to build you a PC. He'll take care of the maintenance and even send over some matching accessories. Ortho will be the one to drop it off of course, but it'll already be set up with whatever games he thinks you'll want to tag-team in and some extra money to explore on your own....and thus, the addiction begins.

"Hey, press this button for me real quick. I need to test something. N-no! I'm not setting you up, uggh just do it would you?" <- Your pulls are better than his and Idia can't decide if lady luck is smiting or blessing him. On one hand? Ultra rare pulls are going to a beginner account. Yet you're more likely to keep playing this way....fate truly tests the Shroud name every day.

Night Owl (Inherited and Developed): Freedom...is powerful. As the Shrouds are responsible for Blot Control, you're left with little to do at S.T.Y.X. You can work anywhere in the facility. As a lab assistant, tech maintenance, heck even the kitchens if you want - but Idia's on that night-life and likes to work when most are asleep. So you match it. Maybe not to a T - going to bed at 6:00am and waking at 4:00pm like him - but time does get a bit disoriented in a place where the sky is simulated.

"Why're you still up? This isn't a 24hr stream, y'know. Even I'm not crazy enough to do multiple all-nighters in a row...well, I'm off for now. Wanna watch the PREMO concert from last week with me?"

Vitamins (Developed): You take them. Idia is taking them. No matter what bro says - he cannot live off the Ignihyde snack machine. Get him the kiddy gummies if you have to. You started taking vitamin D in preparation for moving to S.T.Y.X in the future. Surely they've got something better than the options at Sam's, but you won't be developing Seasonal Affective Disorder anytime soon.

Snacks (Developed): A very simple kindness. Idia uses deliveries as an excuse to get you to visit Ignihyde, and in the future that doesn't change. Expect calls to do deliveries around S.T.Y.X and run 'confidential' reports whenever he's antsy for a visit. We all know he won't explicitly ask...ah, it's reminiscent of all the bogus orders he'd put in at Sams so you'd stop by.

Habits he steals:

Financial 'Responsibility' (Inherited): You both are very bad with money - and by bad? I mean that Idia is a jerk who thinks he can solve everything with money. Minor red flag - something to address. Definitely the type to apologize by sending an unnecessarily gigantic stuffed bear or something akin since he's afraid of saying something that will make it worse. Then pray you don't say anything as he stews over a fight like 12hr simmering sauce.

"Please spare me your double-standards the next time you're shoving vitamin water in my snack stash. SRSLY, Headmaster's a worse deadbeat than I thought if you're living like this....uh, don't tell him I said that" <- On the flip side, he's also flippant with that Shroud inheritance and will buy stuff on your behalf all the time. He's the type to go 'Oh, I thought it was going to be more. You live like this?' when wiring you money for groceries (because Grim ate your allowance in tuna smh). As for how you're bad? You're just flat broke man, so he's responsibly irresponsible as a result.

Vitamins Again (Inherited): Bro. Bro, genetics are making you pale but that diet is what is making those eyebags so prominent despite having a decent skincare routine. You need Vitamin D but he needs the whole spectrum. His potassium is so low, that you'll be staring him down with a plate of cooked salmon in one hand and a bottle of vitamins in the other. Is it pushy? Sure, but you don't want him keeling over within the next decade. Eat the vitamins or it's time to raid his search history. Ortho, get them medical reports out stat.

RPG (Developed): Every chance he gets, Idia will model his MC after you in an RPG. A character customization screen HATES to see this man coming, because he will sit there for hours until it is as close to your image as the system allows. You won't even know since he plays these games solo and has photographic memory to recreate you without a reference. If caught, will deny it despite the evidence being right there. Flat out takes this to the grave.

Sour Candy (Inherited): Fun fact? Citric acid is the perfect stimulant to shock someone out of a panic attack. You find the sourest candy he can tolerate, and it does it's job. If anything it creates a placebo effect, where when Idia tastes it he'll make an association with being anything but anxious. One time he ran out while stuck in a work meeting, and Ortho had to swipe a lemon from the cafeteria.

"Eugh! Sour! Sour! My tongue's gonna shrivel up like a prune! I should have knew this was a prank -" <- Proceeds to forget why he was anxious. Stops himself mid-rant, face sours realizing that you were right, apologizes under his breath and doesn't question you again.

Protective (Developed): Idia teeters the yandere line, to be fair. He's highly protective of the things he considers worth caring about - scratch that, the things he allows himself to care about - which are few. Very, very few. His self-doubt both keep this protectiveness in line while also fueling it. He is quick to convince himself that he has little right over your person, and that it's only a matter of time before his role gets snubbed or written out. Yet the moment his position becomes threatened by something he considers inferior? He hates the thought of some noface coming along and making a muck of your life. It's not his fault if you don't realize Idia's doing just that - but he'll be damned if someone else puts their two cents in, pushing him towards a bad ending.

"Hey - so uh, totally unprompted question that you can just ignore in all honesty - but what's it like living with so many ghosts? They don't give you any trouble or anything - 'cause if they do we've got a few empty rooms over in Ignihyde....only if you wanna! I mean - we're a buncha shut ins but it's pretty quiet and stuff. Okay, fading into the background now." <- Do you remember the Ghostbride? Idia does. Vividly. He also remembers you were the only person aside from Ortho who actually wanted to help him and didn't need cohersion. Stupid move on your part but he's hyper aware of the paranormal now regardless.

Sharing a bed (Developed): Unheard of. Especially since he's stated how miserable he was sharing a dorm - Idia surprises himself with this one. Not a single person would believe just how clingy bro is - but he's only clingy because 'you're' clingy - or so Idia loves to say if anyone teases him for going back on his whole 'solo for life' rants. He goes from the whole 'eww normie love bleh bleh' to 'oh you normies just don't get it because you don't have it hwee hwee'. Look. You're the one matching his sleep schedule, making him used to sharing a bed and having something other than a pillow to curl around - he didn't want to get used to it, he was adamant that this lifestyle was an absolute no-no, but now he's ten years too deep and he's screwed.

"Snkk - funny joke, Ortho. Almost got me there with that one. Inheriting any of my skills is like welcoming a one-track path straight to doomsville. You and I both know it." == Ever observant Ortho is very eager to share all the little changes he's seen in both yourself and Idia. Especially when the latter enters self-deprecation mode and is insistent that your relationship is nearing a band ending. In truth? Idia notices. He doesn't feel entirely himself anymore, and it terrifies him. Not everyone's meant for companionship, and for a long time Idia thought he was one of them. Someone perfectly content on their own with absolutely zero need for other people. Especially those hot-shot nosy hero types that would try to fix him without asking if he wanted to be 'fixed'. Thing is? You haven't pushed him to change at all - and he's freaking out because he's not supposed to want this. You're not supposed to want him.

[evertidings]

So... Who's ready to meet Eliana? Prepare yourselves to enter the Realm of the Fae in Chapter 12, releasing May 9th at 9 A.M. EST. 

Early access on Patreon starts on May 4th for the Midnight Tier, and May 6th for the Twilight Tier.

IN THIS CHAPTER.

Reassure [A] that everything will be alright (because it will... right?)

Discover some new nervous habits from Blane

Reveal a new side to N (or has that always been there?)

Attempt to analyze K's thoughts

Wonder why Rylan is being... quiet for once?

Additionally, Chapter 12 includes three (!!) one-on-one scenes with the RO of your choice in anticipation of the upcoming romance lock

STATS.

Game Total: 572,090 words (+60,665)

It's also been a while since I've done this, but I'll be posting sneak peeks from the chapter up until release date, starting tomorrow.

I'm so excited for everyone to read this! Thank you all for being so patient and I will see you very soon <3

[naomi-nana]

✎ᝰ. not much of a romantic .

you hadn't expected the general to accept your gift, much less, to preserve it. not until you see the gift again hundreds of years later.

featuring : general lilia and current lilia vanrouge (cameo appearance: idia)

cw : f!reader, reader is fae and is not yuu, established relationship(?? was friends then they got married), fluuuuufff, probably bad grammars, ooc general lilia? +the divider are supposed to separate between past and future lol

a/n : HEHEHEHHE LILIA VANROUGE

"this is ridiculous," lilia mutters under his breath, setting his weapon by the tree with a look of disapproval shot your way. the two of you were on your way to go back to the camp, but your 'childish mind', as lilia called it, insisted on stopping by the road. simply because a field of flowers had caught your sparkly eyes.

"come, now! there's no need to look so grumpy!" you smiled at him, putting a few flowers in your pocket. had you been someone else, lilia would've just ditched you right here by yourself. but of course, he won't. he tolerates you a tad bit too much to do that—not that he'd ever admit it, though.

"hmph. flowers? what are you, children?"

"no! i simply enjoy life, unlike you!"

"krk..!" he grits his teeth at your reply. how dare you say that to him? sigh. well, he'll let it slide. for now. while he is occupied with his own thoughts, you suddenly walked over to him with something behind you. you also appear to be grinning ear to ear. "what are you doing?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at you.

"close your eyes, will you?" he raised an eyebrow at your request.

"huh? why should i?"

"come on! just do it!" he scoffed at you but did as you had asked. when he closed his eyes, he felt something being put on his head. it feels light and smells great, too. but it's probably because you're so close to him. "you can open them now!"

"ta-da! do you like it? i made it with great efforts, you know." you beamed, chest puffing out in pride. it's.. a flower crown. you made a flower crown for him. for him. the feared general. how can a fae be so pretty and kind? "lilia?" you called out to him, making him snap out of his thoughts. heck, he didn't even realize he's been standing still up until now.

"... utterly foolish. you expect me to go to war with this?"

"i don't see anything wrong with it, general! maybe those humans will be in awe when they see you!"

he scoffed once more, reaching his hand up to caress the flowers so gently as if it would break if he uses slightly more force. "your idiocy knows no bounds."

the sounds of keyboard clicking echoes through diasomnia's halls, specifically around lilia's room. lilia had invited you to visit night raven college during the weekend, and yet, he's now letting you rot in his incredibly messy room without paying attention to you at all while he's playing his game.

not that you mind, you're quite intrigued by his occasional yelling of "nice!" or "yes, hit that!" this makes you wonder how his game can be so interesting. it almost makes you forget that you're both hundreds of years old. but that does not matter. to entertain yourself, you decided to clean lilia's room one step at a time.

the first step is: his wardrobe.

it's messy, to say the least. you scrunched your nose when you smell the stench of unwashed socks near its doors. how long has it been since it's washed? well, no matter. you decided to pick it up and put it somewhere far away for you to wash later. then, another scent reaches your nostrils.

it doesn't smell bad now. in fact, it smells sweet and familiar. a little too familiar. "lilia." you turned your head to the side, calling out to him. but he does not budge. instead, he waves you off with a little, "not now, darling. i'm working." without even turning his head at you. ugh, old men, am i right?

"your 'work' is you ignoring your wife." you quipped, pouting at him. hearing your sentence, lilia chuckles softly while typing into his chatbox;

MuscleRed: Forgive this old man, but my wife called for me. I must go AFK for a while.

then, someone replied,

Gloomurai: oh, kk. no worries there. i'll wait for your return.

he then paused the game, finally turning to look at you with an apologetic smile. "sorry about that, dearest. what is it?" he asked, looking up at you. 'he paused his game for me ...' it's been years, yet he always manages to make you fall in love with him more each time.

"uhm, well, i was just curious to see if you'd know about the flowery scent in your wardrobe."

"oh? well, i haven't the slightest idea. maybe it was those new detergents sebek bought yesterday? he said that it smells great."

you hummed, reaching your hand in the wardrobe to search for the source of smell. "... hm? i think i touched something." when you pulled it out, what you saw almost made you smile like a high school girl in love. it's a flower crown. specifically, the one you made for him hundreds of years ago.

you both stared at the crown in silence before lilia laughed, almost falling off of his chair. "hahaha! i didn't even remember putting it there!" his words made you tilt your head in curiosity and confusion. "but ... how? it should've wilted a week or two after i gave it to you, right?"

"well, i used magic on it so it doesn't have to wilt, love! to think that i'll see it 3 years later after i've put it in there ... i'm quite surprised!" he replied, as if what he did was something that everyone could relate to. as if what he did is something that is not romantic at all.

"you could've just told me, you know ... i would've made you new ones every time it wilts."

"khehehe," he laughs again, embracing you in his arms. "past me was a little too prideful for that. forgive me, will you?"

but of course you do. you love him too much.

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use (with or without permission), do not recommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

[daycourtofficial]

An Autumn Courting

Pairing: Eris x winter court!reader | WC: 12.5k | warnings: sexual tones, mentions of hunting

Summary: coming into his role as High Lord of the Autumn Court, the first thing Eris does is make a proposal of marriage to you, something you’re going to make him work for.

A/N: this has been in my drafts since October 2023, I’m so glad to let this be out in the world. Happy @sjmxreaderweek !! This is way too long but enjoy anyway

Eris Vanserra had three soft spots.

First: his mother - a female who spent her life trying to make his better. The first and perhaps only person to show him pure, unconditional love. Someone who did not balk at the terrible things he had to do and endure to survive. One of his most complicated and long lasting relationships where nothing truly made sense.

Second: Lucien. He had a soft spot for all of his brothers when they were born. Being raised by Beron sucked the life from most of them. He watched as they slowly became apathetic at best, cruel at worst. All except Lucien.

Lucien, his baby brother, who remained a good, loyal male, despite everything Beron tried to do to him. Lucien, who looked at him with wide eyes and a big heart. Lucien - his first contact leading up to his father’s death, the only person he wanted there.

Third: his hounds.

Eris adored his hounds. He spent thousands of hours training them, breeding them, and preparing for the next litter. Their kennels were a refuge for him, a place no one in the family ever ventured out to. Only a handful of servants ever got close and they merely mucked out the stalls and changed feed for the dogs. They were the first things to ever truly be his.

Eris had three soft spots. Now it was four.

Your continued presence, skirting on the outside of his periphery for years meant more to him than you could ever possibly know. The only fae willing to talk back to him but keep a twinkle in their eye.

He spent years trying to figure out why your eyes plagued his dreams, how the wind would blow past carrying your laugh. He could never quite pinpoint an exact reason.

Staying away from you during court events was the best course of action for everyone. He knew if he got too close to you, Beron would notice and insist on exploiting this weakness of Eris’s by either a) trying to arrange a marriage between the two of you, putting you under Beron’s control and driving Eris further under Beron’s thumb, or b) keep you far away from Eris.

He knew which one was worse.

-

You had known Eris for centuries, a tenuous friendship due to his lack of trust and your uncertainty as to where you stood with him. Something inside of you always felt there was more to him than the mask he wore to the public, but you could never truly be certain if it was just naivety and hopefulness.

Years of seeing each other at inter-court events, culminated in the two of you finding each other, having occasional moments that left you wanting to see more of him. You could never linger together for too long, lest Beron catch on to how his eldest son’s eyes bore into yours for a second longer than appropriate. Every meeting, dance, or word shared between you two always left you flustered, every moment shared was dissected at length afterward.

One night, while under the mountain, Eris took a risk and found you in your chambers. He had to know that you were okay - as okay as one could be in such an environment. He was used to this environment- he knew how to play the game, how to endure the atrocities in front of him. But you didn’t.

Eris had pushed his way into your chambers, quickly shutting the door behind himself. The intrusion had left you so flustered, you ran to him, prepared to chastise him.

Instead he grabbed your shoulders, quickly spinning you before he rested your back against the door, ensuring no one could burst in without his knowledge. He caged you in with his arms on either side of you, his amber eyes roaming your face, inspecting for injuries.

“I don’t have much time. But if this ever ends, it will not be long until I put the pieces into place to better my position.”

You understood the meaning behind his words, ones too worried to utter the real truth out loud.

He was going to kill Beron. Or someone was.

You knew he was concerned about ears in this place, so he didn’t speak freely.

“I cannot promise you much, but if you wait, I will do things properly. But I would not hold it against you if you cannot wait.”

He hung his head, his long, red hair falling into his face before taking a deep breath and slipping out the door before you could say anything.

So, you waited.

You had survived the atrocities that happened under that cauldron-forsaken mountain and helped your brother Kallias rebuild the Winter court.

Then the war with Hybern happened. You continued your work trying to provide security and sanctuary to your citizens, but it was hard and draining.

The years carried on, until one day Kallias was called off quite quickly by mail, leaving you and Vivian quite confused but not for long. News of the death of Beron Vanserra traveled quite quickly through all of Prythian.

Kallias had returned for mere minutes before a letter arrived in front of you, a second one appearing in front of Kallias a moment later.

The envelope was sealed with the Autumn Court insignia, one that you’ve admired for many years now: a fox curling around a fire. It felt homey.

It was the Court’s official crest - and the Vanserra family’s familial crest resembled it. You broke the seal, reading the letter.

Fawn,

It is my hope that this letter finds you in good spirits and good health. I am writing this as a formal declaration of my intentions.

With your agreement, it is my intention to court and wed you, making you the Lady of the Autumn Court. It would be my honor to serve my court as your husband with you at my side.

This decision lies solely with you. I have, however, written a similar letter to your high lord, Kallias, so he will not feel blindsided should you accept.

Take your time over this decision. I will be busy in the coming weeks, adjusting to life as High Lord, however I will make whatever time is necessary for you shall you wish it.

Yours,

Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court

You smiled at the title in his signature, sure that this was the first time he got to write it out.

Your eyes glanced up to find Viviane and Kallias’s peaking glances at you as they read the letter Eris had sent them.

“It would appear as though you’ve caught the eye of Prythian’s newest High Lord.”

It was no question that you would attend his coronation. Autumn was a direct border to Winter and Kallias had been waiting decades for Beron to die to potentially work with one of his sons on building better relations. He had always hoped it would be Lucien, the easiest and most diplomatic Vanserra. The two had a working relationship and he would be a lovely neighboring ruler.

During the whole affair, Eris’s eyes hardly strayed from yours. They followed you, not straying to any of the hundreds of fae gathered, not to the other court nobility that had arrived.

Just you.

His eyes had followed you as you lingered after the ceremony, finding Lucien just as the letter had instructed. You kept his gaze as you spoke to the youngest Vanserra, giving him the answer to Eris’s letter. You nodded just enough for the new High Lord to see, and his posture immediately relaxed. You stood taller knowing on a day all about him, he clearly had only been thinking of you.

-

You had written back to Eris after the coronation quite quickly, much more quickly than a proper lady should, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Excitement coursed through your body, almost impossible to sit still.

Corresponding with Eris was more fun than you had anticipated. It took a few letters, but he began opening up more and more, telling you stories about his day or some memory long forgotten. Most letters include some story about Lucien, but they felt much more relaxed than the version of him you knew at court events. He even stopped signing them with his full name, shortening it to just ‘Eris’ eventually.

You had made the mistake of mentioning to Kallias about Eris’s intentions. Your brother had been upset at first to find out his sister had caught the eye of a Vanserra - he had never trusted the family, always on guard in their presence. But when he heard the words ‘courting’ and ‘traditional’, you swore his eyes danced with amusement as he plotted something.

Official courting was very similar across Prythian, with minor details changed for each court. For members of nobility and highly esteemed families of the Winter Court, it was usual custom for the betrothed pair to visit each other’s villages. Time spent partaking in the customs of each village was essential - life in Winter could often feel very insular. Villages less than a day’s travel from each other could be quite different, even language differences occurring. Holidays across the court looked similar to outsiders, but traditions held a wide range of activities.

Kallias would allow you to do as you wished as long as you weren’t tricked or coerced into anything. However, your brother would make Eris regret his exact words of a ‘traditional courting’.

Eris had agreed to the terms, but sent many letters about his brother in forewarning and to not take him seriously. Having met the youngest Vanserra on several occasions, you were well prepared for what he might do.

An agreement was formed - Eris was to spend two weeks in Winter before you would spend two weeks in Autumn. At that point, you would provide some form of answer. You had some idea of what you would say - you wouldn’t be wasting everyone’s time otherwise. But it would be foolish and rash to wed without spending any time alone with the male.

Eris was set to arrive in a week’s time, coming to your home, coming to Winter. It felt surreal, not quite allowing yourself to believe it until the male was standing before you. A week was nothing for a High Lord - Kallias’s visits to other courts usually required several months of notice. But seven days still felt too long after seeing him at the coronation. You did anything to make yourself busy - planning activities for the two of you, reassuring your brother once again that this was what you wanted, trying to showcase Winter in the best light.

Still, every night when you laid in bed, everytime you closed your eyes, you were brought back to the coronation, how his eyes followed you across the room. A room full of the most powerful and important people in Prythian, and his gaze never left yours.

-

You hardly slept the night before he was set to arrive, waking with the sun as if it would bring Eris here more quickly. The morning went by at a snail’s pace, the palace unhurried for the day. You had bathed, dried your hair, paced around, tidied your room. You did anything you could think to keep busy, to keep your mind off the clock.

Eventually enough time passed for you to make it to breakfast, sitting across from Kallias and Vivianne’s amused glances. They chatted idly, amused smiles directed at you that you pretended to ignore. You only pushed the food around on your plate, watching the sun through the window, trying to will it to move faster.

“Something wrong?” Kallias’s question made its way through the fog, the only words he had spoken you had been able to make sense of.

“Sure, sure.” You waved him off with your fork, eyes moving to the entryway to the dining room every so often. He laughed, amused at how little you were listening to them, but you had tuned him out once more. Doubt crept in as each second passed, your anxieties certain something would keep the two of you apart. Had he changed his mind? Was it all in the chase for a hunter like him?

As if your doubts had conjured him, he was striding through the entrance hall, his red hair practically melting the walls as he went past. Over the years, you had seen Eris in a variety of wardrobe: deep reds ranging to bright green, a variety of embroidery threads on every piece. He made every color his own, gravitating towards richer, earthier shades. The dark blue jacket that hung from his shoulders made the color seem so new and exotic, despite being a significant portion of your own wardrobe. The depth of color popped beneath his pale skin somehow, unjustly proving there truly was no color he couldn’t make his own.

The piece looked like anything you would find in Winter, but somehow like nothing you had ever seen before.

He had looked so sure of himself at the coronation, steadfast in a way a High Lord needed to be. In the few weeks since, he had somehow grown even more into himself, standing tall and sharp. His hair was much shorter now than it was under the mountain, the weight of that place chopped off with the fiery locks.

Eris stopped before you, smiling as he took you in, a bit of shock mixed in with the delight. Too caught up in your wandering eyes, you completely forget to even pretend to courtesy until it’s too late and you fumble a short bow. His face lit up with amusement, and you hoped he'd ignore it. Your prayers seemed to be answered until he leaned in and asked, “see something you like?”

The question sent chills down your back, your spine straightening. Your mouth became too dry to respond, and even if you could, you couldn’t think of anything to say. This thing with Eris, however mutual it may be, had alway been fleeting - small conversations, loose promises. No matter how your heart pulled to him, you still knew so little about him.

Kallias cleared his throat from behind you, his focus completely on Eris. The males only nodded to each other, not even attempting small talk. Kallias had been on edge ever since the first letter arrived - you heard him pacing at night, sure that the Autumn male was planning something. But those concerns hardly made it to your ears, your brother staying tight lipped about his reservations.

You didn’t think there was any validity to Kallias’s concerns for even a moment, especially not as he stood before you, a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes.

“I didn’t think you would allow this. I expected to be thrown out of Winter.” His voice was soft, the usual sneer or jestful tone gone, leaving room for something more vulnerable.

“Do you take me for a liar, High Lord? Not a good look for a new bride.” The quip sent him slightly off balance, surprise or pleasure at the change in your attitude.

“My apologies.” He bowed low at the waist causing you to go completely still. As High Lord, he didn’t have to bow to anyone. The other High Lords were his equals, but they didn’t deserve this level of respect.

“I’m just kind enough to forgive you, Eris.” He straightened at the sound of his name, the slight smirk enough to let you know how much he enjoyed it.

-

You spent the afternoon showing him the palace and the grounds, noting the amusement on his face at the ice gardens. You showed him the deep blues of the palace, listening as he compared them to his own home, the Forest House.

“I have arranged for some private dining for us. Kallias wanted some grand banquet in your honor, but I shot that down.”

“Wanted to get me alone?”

“Oh, we won’t be alone.” He waited for you to go on, still keeping stride next to you. “There are eyes everywhere in Winter. Why do you think we don’t have a chaperone?”

Eris turned in a circle, moving around the landscape, searching for anybody. There wasn’t another living thing for miles in the vast wintery expanse.

“Can you keep a secret?” He nodded, leaning his face closer to yours. You did the same, leaning up on your toes to meet him. You lowered your voice, soft as the snow fall. “It’s the animals.”

“The animals?” A mixture of shock and delight came across his face, a hint of disbelief as well. You nodded, not elaborating further. As far as you could tell, the animals in Winter were vastly different from the animals of other courts. They were larger, better at hiding, and were connected to Kallias somehow. You had tried for years to get him to explain it - why arctic foxes lingered at the palace doors, hares burrowed beneath every window. He always stayed tight-lipped about it, but he always knew things he shouldn’t. He was always the first to know your business, even if you never told him.

“I don’t really get it, but they like my brother.”

Eris followed as you led him to the west side of the palace. Light snow fell, crunching beneath your feet as you made your way down the path to the stables. You finally reached the surprise the servants had set up - a massive sleigh fronted by a team of large reindeer, stocked with blankets and food.

“What is this?”

“Our chariot.”

Eris looked over the sled, the reindeer all standing at attention, dark fur accented with lush garlands.

“Couldn’t we just winnow?”

“Yes, but where’s the fun in that?”

He huffed, his breath visible in the air. He followed you into the sleigh, his body pressing close to yours. You let out a low whistle, the reindeer taking off quickly. Eris fell back into the seat, unprepared for the quick takeoff. Your hand covered your mouth, trying to hide the laugh that escaped, but you knew he heard it from the way he looked over at you.

His magic made a warm bubble around the two of you, blocking out the wind as the reindeer picked up a good pace. The sleigh glided across the snow, making fresh tracks as it moved. Eris looked around, trying to find any hint as to where the two of you were heading off to.

“What are we waiting for?”

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

He studied you then, really focusing on you. You did the same, studying how much he contrasted the wintry landscape passing behind. His blue coat helped him blend in somewhat, but he stood out too much from the ice and snow to ever be able to fully hide.

“Have you ever been to Winter?” Your voice was louder, trying to be heard over the wind. You’ve seen him in Winter three or four times, the Vanserras never lingering long, only here to discuss things related to the border. Your father despised having them around, always tense in the days leading up to their arrival. But you wanted to hear it from him, wanted to know what your home was like to an outsider.

“Officially or unofficially?”

“Both.”

He leaned back on the seat, stretching out his long legs in the sleigh, his body still touching yours but not encroaching on your space.

“Officially, a handful of times. Unofficially, a few dozen times. I’ve snooped around the border a time or two.”

“To see the sights? Or do something a bit more?”

He gave a sharp look, some debate happening behind his eyes on how much to tell.

“I’d be lying if I said the land on the border between our courts was anything less than spectacular.”

You had never been so far north as the seasonal courts, but the lands connecting Summer, Winter, and Autumn were quite the sight. A blend of all three courts, a beautiful lake laid in the middle of the tricourt border. The wind blew falling leaves and soft snow across the water, but somehow the air was the perfect temperature to go swimming. It was a beautiful spot, popular with travelers.

“My excursions were less than savory.” His face was grim now, hard set with bad memories. Your breath hitched at how quickly the conversation had turned. It’s not too surprising to know Eris has snuck across the border - you have snuck off into Summer a time or two, emboldened by youth and recklessness.

But a few years ago, someone had done something so heinous the memory still made you gag.

“Have you ever harmed one of Winter’s citizens?” It still wasn’t known who killed those children, their deaths still a heavy tragedy for your court. Their wailing parents could be heard across the court. Your brother had long suspected the High Lord of the Night Court of it, but he had no leads.

“No. Mostly a neutral meeting site for discussions.” He seemed less than forthcoming, not wanting to linger too long, but willing to answer any questions you had. You only had one last question, needing it answered before letting this subject die.

“Did you have any involvement with the children?” You didn’t have to specify, you knew he’d know what you were referring to.

“No. I would never.” Relief washed over you. He seemed open in a way you’ve never seen before. You wanted to see more of it, let him tell you who he is in his own words.

The sled started slowing down at your whistle, halting in the middle of a barren field. The dark sky stretched on for miles, filled with galaxies of stars too numerous to count and too small to quantify. You unfolded the blanket, draping it across both of your laps, before opening the picnic basket. You passed him a small mug, filling it with hot chocolate from an enchanted kettle.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.” You tried for a more hopeful tone, the lilt in your voice asking to move on from the tragedy. He thought it over seriously for a few moments, watching the steam from his mug dissipate before settling on something.

“I have twelve hounds, all named after ingredients in pumpkin pie or apple varieties.”

“You have hounds?” He nodded, allowing you to continue. “I’ve only seen hounds from afar around here. In Winter, they work either with hunting or guardians. I’ve heard in Day it’s popular to keep them as pets. Are yours more pet or worker?”

“Anyone else, I’d say they’re workers. But in the interest of honesty, they are more pet.”

The mug of hot chocolate in your hands was the only thing keeping you from squealing in delight.

“Do you spoil them?”

“No.” You eyed him skeptically, not accepting his answer. “Okay, fine. I spoil them. But I make them work for it.”

“That’s so sweet. I’m sure they all love you.”

He didn’t respond, but you were sure it was the truth. You couldn’t imagine any being not falling in love with him, especially after spending years with him.

You slowly leaned into him, trying to soak up all his warmth. He turned, his face only inches from yours. His nose was a hair away from bumping into yours. Amber eyes flicked down to your lips and back up, but he stayed where he was.

You pushed back from him, catching the glimpse of color from behind his head, telling him to look up.

The sky above you, previously pitch black, slowly allowed streaks of green and light blue to ribbon across its landscape. The sky was a living painting, bright hues stretching across the blank canvas. The movements seemed random, smooth strokes looking for a place to rest. Every stroke looked intentional, every color carefully picked to complement the ones around it.

The hundreds of times you had seen it before didn’t matter - each time was brand new, never looking the same as the last. Eris was quiet beside you, the silence stretching up to the sky in appreciation of its beauty.

For a long time, neither of you say anything, but Eris’s hand slowly moved closer - first resting next to yours, each finger slowly and gently making contact, until he was holding your hand in his, gazing at this new beauty to bask in.

You smiled to the sky, thankful for whatever reason it was here. It would be the first thing the two of you would share, your shared focus on the same thing. The whole ride home would be devoted to talking about it, sharing feelings and observations, but now the two of you stared, necks craning at something that had stretched across Winter for as long as fae had existed.

-

On Eris’s second day in Winter, the weather was just right for an activity you were determined to see Eris try before accepting any proposals. You bundled yourself up, donning several layers beneath a coat before you bounced down the hallway. His room was several doors down from yours at Kallias’s input no doubt, but it gave you an extra moment to smooth out any wrinkles in your coat.

Deep blue skies filled the windows you passed, the day outside exceedingly bright. It was springtime in Winter, one of the warmer days that brought fae outdoors in droves, but your intended destination would be quite cold.

Your knock on his door was quick, three taps before his face greeted you.

“You’re quite chipper this morning,” he greeted.

You beamed, excitement for the day coursing through you. “It’s a beautiful day, of course I’m chipper.”

You looked down from his eyes to find his chest bare, no shirt to cover the pale skin littered with freckles. A set of two moles beneath his left clavicle caught your eye, before your gaze stuck on the red hair beneath his navel, leading into his trousers.

“I can meet you for breakfast downstairs if you wish to eat.”

Your eyes snapped back to his, a hint of arrogance lacing his words at having caught your ogling. He spared you from any other jabs at your expense, at least.

“No need, we’ll be getting breakfast out in town.”

A surprised look crossed his face before he quickly changed it for one of intrigue.

“Spare a moment so I can change.”

He came out exactly a moment later, not letting you wait too long. He stepped out in brown trousers, brown riding boots, a loose white shirt, and a beautifully decadent emerald green vest with gold detailing. He looked so autumnal, almost like a crisp apple you were dying to bite into.

Your lips puckered. “You’re going to need more clothes.”

“Oh? You seemed quite happy with the lack of layers I was wearing earlier.”

You scoffed, trying to cover the heat that was spreading up your face. “I am a lady, High Lord. Of course I am happy to see a lack of layers in my attractive guests.”

He laughed through his nose, an almost pleased snort at your unabashed comment.

“Any hints as to the day’s plans?”

“None until you get dressed.” He grumbled something as he turned back, leaving the door open before rifling through his trunks again.

“You do know I can warm myself quite easily with my magic.” He found a larger coat, probably the thickest one he owned, but it looked thin in comparison to the large, feather coats of Winter’s citizens. You followed him, standing in his doorway as he spoke to you.

“That’s cheating, though. Besides, your magic could be a hazard.” He stopped buttoning his jacket, fingers pausing mid movement.

“I thought I wasn’t getting any hints until I was better dressed.”

“You are better dressed.”

“I would never leave with my buttons undone. I’m not an animal.”

You stepped aside, walking down the hallway and away from him. His door shut softly behind him and he quickly caught up to you, matching your stride through the palace. No matter how much he asked, you didn’t let up, leading him out of the palace and onto the cool paths that navigated around the property.

You thought he would give up - it would only be a ten minute walk, after all. But he was unwavering, determined to get the answer from you, so much so he wasn’t paying attention to the upcoming view.

“We’re going ice skating!” You declared proudly, pointing ahead at the frozen lake coming into view. Figures glided across the frozen surface, laughing loud enough to be heard from far away.

“Why are we going ice skating, my ice princess?”

The nickname caught you off guard, the title not sounding as stilted as it usually did. You tried to keep your composure, a difficult task as your tongue suddenly became very thick in your mouth. “It’s tradition.”

“Is it now? Or do you just want to admire me gliding across the ice in those tight uniforms your skaters wear?”

A sigh escaped you, careful not to let him hear your laugh.

“It’s tradition in Winter for betrothed couples to skate together.”

“We’re a betrothed couple now?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. You still hadn’t technically given him an answer nor did you plan to until the end of the trip. Everything was going so well, you had to ensure you liked being in his company before agreeing.

“We’re something.”

“I suppose ‘something’ is the most serious relationship I’ve ever been in.”

“Haven’t you been engaged to the Morrigan?”

“I was a child. I had met her all of a handful of times before it ended.”

“So us ice skating is the most serious romantic endeavor you’ve ever been involved with?”

“It would appear so.”

“If I may be so bold, that is quite sad.” A pair of ice skates appeared in your hands, the size determined by some servants who snuck into his chambers last night and measured his shoes. You held them out to him before gesturing for him to sit on a nearby bench to put them on.

“What’s sad is going to be seeing me out on the ice and that will be the end of my most serious romantic endeavor.”

You reached out, gently pinching his cheek between your thumb and forefinger.

“I wouldn’t end things with how pitiful you look on the ice. I find pathetic males endearing on occasion.”

“I will note to never allow you near Lucien again.”

Your own skates appeared in your hand as you sat next to Eris. The two of you laced boots in tandem, listening as a few kids played a game of hockey on one end of the lake.

“You’ll probably be a little wobbly getting out there,” you warned, standing up to help him. You held your hands out, which he gladly took, helping him find his balance on the mat.

“This is ridiculous.”

“Oh, just wait.”

You helped him waddle to the entrance, his body instinctively reaching for the short walls that had been erected around the lake. Eris moved onto the ice, attempting to keep the blades beneath his feet connected to the ice. It was much slippier than he anticipated, his feet moving at an odd angle before he quickly moved back to grip the wall once more. His eyes met yours, your face barely able to contain your grin. Your eyes shone with delight, your tone laced with wicked amusement as you held out your hands.

“Forgive me, High Lord. I didn’t realize I was in the presence of a skating prodigy.”

His jaw tightened at the jab, annoyance simmering beneath his skin. Everyone else on the ice made it look easy, skating past the High Lord in pairs. One male even did a jump right in front of him.

If there was one thing that would never change about Eris, it was that he was a sore loser if he wasn’t automatically good at something.

A skater passed by, ice shavings hitting Eris in the chest. It was enough to get him to remove himself from the wall, to move out toward your outstretched hands. He looked like a newborn foal, standing for the first time on fresh legs. You suppressed a giggle, reaching out for him.

He made it halfway between you and the wall when one of the kids from the other side of the lake hit the hockey puck too hard, the black circle skidding fast directly at Eris’s feet. It hit the blade of his left skate, sending him falling forward.

A loud, boisterous laugh fell from your lips. Your head tilted back, the sun nearly blinding you, but you couldn’t contain the joy you felt in this moment.

A beautiful male fell into your arms, looking more like a fresh fawn than the high lord he was.

He clutched at you, his feet giving out beneath him as he tried to find his balance. The blades slashed the ice, cutting and churning up slush until eventually he slowed down, his feet able to stay in place long enough for him to straighten up.

Eris still clung to you, but his face came close to your ear, whispering so only you could hear.

“I look ridiculous.”

“Yes, you do.”

“And you’re enjoying it.”

“Very much so.” A meteor couldn’t wipe the smug look off your face at his struggles. You pried his hands from your shoulders, holding them tight in your hands as you slowly started skating backwards. The shock on his face had you biting back another laugh, but you held him tight, gliding backwards without a concern in the world.

He slowly began figuring out how to move his feet, making short glides. Each sweep of his legs brought more confidence, but his hands still remained tight in yours.

-

Eris didn’t have many courtly duties to take up his time while in Winter. He had spent most of the last week preparing for this, but he only had to put up with daily updates and light correspondence taking no less than an hour a day.

You took him everywhere you thought of: nearby villages, sightseeing, trying restaurants. He was more receptive to Winter cuisine than you had anticipated, but it shouldn’t be too shocking that there was some overlap between your courtly palettes.

Today the snow came down in massive heaps, a sheet of white covering the windows, making it impossible to see past a few feet.

“Please don’t tell me we’re going out to do something like see how much snow we can catch.”

You smiled, turning from the window to find Eris looking down at you. You stood, practically bouncing the balls of your feet at the plan for today.

“I’d never do that to you and your delicate constitution.” A huff escaped his lips at your taunt, but no retort came back.

“We’re going to bake and assemble a gingerbread house.”

It was too early for yule, the ingredients necessary for the traditional dishes out of season. But you craved to showcase Winter in all its splendor.

“A gingerbread house? To live in?”

“Not for us to live in. For the gingerbread fae to live in.”

He only stared blankly, the concept clearly a new one to the High Lord.

“Do you not celebrate Yule in Autumn?”

“We burn bushes and the like, but we don’t make gingerbread.” He said it with a grimace, like the cookie was offensive.

“Well, you can help me build it and decorate it.”

-

A few hours later, when the cookies were taken from the oven, the two of you took a break, venturing around the palace grounds, talking about everything and nothing. At some point you were sure the cookies had cooled enough to work with, but there had been a break in the snow and you weren’t quite ready to return yet. Instead you had detoured into the nearby village, taking Eris to get hot chocolate.

“I promise, I’ve tried so much hot chocolate over the years, but this is the best.”

“Very convenient that they live so close by.” You smiled over the mug, taking your first sip, the sweet rich flavor one you couldn’t get enough of.

“I may have persuaded him to move his shop here.”

Eris held his drink, waiting for it to cool more.

“Here I thought I was the scandalous one of us.”

“It all worked out! He met his wife here and they’ve been very happy for a long time. And they have me to thank for it.” Pride was etched into every inch of your smile, to see happy citizens and watch things work out for them was a joy.

“Winter’s own little matchmaker.”

After enough time (and Eris admitting it was the best hot chocolate Prythian had to offer), the two of you had wandered back to the palace, taking your sheets of cookies into the dining room. Servants had already arranged all your decorating needs neatly onto the table: icing, gumdrops, sugar. Anything sweet your heart could desire was on the table.

“The world’s supply of sugar was dropped off in our absence.”

It didn’t take long before he was sucked into the work, determined to make a grand gingerbread house fit for a High Lord. You watched as he carefully iced one of the walls, applying windows and doors to it. His lines were perfect, a steely look of determination on his face.

This was what this trip was about. Seeing Eris for who he was at all times: relaxed, enthralled, annoyed. After a moment of watching him, you turned back to your own house, hoping a distraction would quell the butterflies roaring in your stomach. You picked up one of the tiny ginger males, picking out the perfect red icing to make his hair with.

-

Before long, Eris’s two weeks in Winter were coming to an end. It felt surreal to watch him winnow away, feeling juvenile over the longing you felt in his absence.

Eris would head to Autumn a day before you, so the two of you hadn’t lingered long on saying goodbye. It had taken longer than expected for him to depart, as if the both of you were unwilling to give the other up for any amount of time. The pull you had felt toward him all these years, the seemingly insurmountable obstacles keeping the two of you apart, and yet a whole day felt impossible.

Life had continued on in your whirlwind romance, but it felt different now. Two weeks away and it felt like being in someone else’s clothes, stepping into someone else’s life.

The silence felt louder, your room colder. The halls you grew up in, the room you’d known your entire life - they felt so empty now, so lifeless without a redhead blazing fires.

-

The next day Kallias winnowed the two of you to Autumn, somewhere about a mile from the perimeter of the Forest House. He spent the twenty minute walk probing you nonstop about if you were truly happy to do this.

“It would mean living here year round.” His arms spread out, sweeping across the landscape. It was so different from your home in the Winter Court, trees full of leaves that are about to shed, woodland creatures skittering all around, watching the two of you.

The air was always so still in Winter, but here it ebbed and flowed, carrying the scent of bonfires and apples wherever it went.

“I don’t think that would be so bad.” You failed to mention how excited you’d be to live with a certain male, not wanting to endure Kallias’s teasing or gagging noises from him.

Your brother escorted you through the woods, your arm tucked into his as you passed through the wards placed around the Forest House. The large, dark estate was tucked away in the woods, trees as tall as the sky surrounding it. The sun was hitting it just right, letting it shine in all its glory, as if even the weather was happy with the change in Autumn.

A servant had found the two of you - some guard, you assumed from the weapon at his side. He bowed quickly before the two of you, quickly turning on his heel for you to follow. You didn’t have to follow long, Eris already waiting in the front hallway for the two of you.

It was hard to decide what to look at - the male or the gorgeous interior of the home. You were set to be here for two weeks, plenty of time to ogle the decor and architecture, so you opted to keep your eyes on Eris. He looked different in Autumn, more at ease, but also brighter somehow, as if every room and background bent toward him, trying to complement his skin.

He kept his eyes on you the same way, likely figuring out how much you contrasted against the earthly shades of the court. You didn’t care, certain he would spin it in a more favorable light than you would. He eventually took his eyes off of you, turning towards your brother, reaching out a hand. Their hands met, slight steam coming off from their touch before your brother chuckled. It wasn’t until you peeled your eyes from Eris to find one of his brothers, Lucien, standing behind him

“Eris,” Kallias’s voice took on a more stern tone, one that had a groan coming from the back of your throat. Kallias’s blue eyes met yours, a silent conversation taking place while he was still shaking Eris’s hand. After a minute of glaring back and forth, he turned back toward Eris, patting his hand before retracting it.

“Eris.” It said all that Kallias wanted to. The threat hidden in the one word, the tight grip he had on Eris’s hand. Eris only nodded, a tight lipped smile at either Kallias’s rigid position or the tight grip he had on him. Kallias examined him for a moment before letting go, his arm moving to wrap you into a hug.

“Last chance,” he said quietly into your ear. You softly shook your head no as you leaned into his touch, the cool air enveloping you in such a familiar way. He patted your back before letting go.

“I’ll see you in two weeks then.” This time he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, accenting every word in a ‘I’m the High Lord’ way. You chuckled softly as he turned, nodding at both Vanserras before walking out of the house.

The three of you stood in silence for only a moment, no one quite sure how to continue on after Kallias’s departure. Lucien’s eyes gleamed with excitement, a smile full of mischief and trouble sent your way.

“Would you like to walk around the estate?”

-

It was an interesting sight to behold - two fae, each over several centuries old, strolling about Autumn with a much younger and louder chaperone following behind them.

“I have to say you do seem quite different since the last I saw of you in Autumn, High Lord.”

Lucien’s steps followed the two of you, his whistling an overt measure to ensure you both remembered his presence. When you had asked for traditional courtship, you hadn’t had Lucien in mind.

“Autumn is seeing a great change.”

“You may speak freely, if you wish. I understand double speak is common around here, but I am unfamiliar with it and find it tedious.”

“Autumn is doing quite well now that the blight that was my father has been taken care of.”

Lucien’s whistling stopped, an almost choking noise coming from his mouth. Eris shot a spark from his finger at his brother. Even though he couldn’t see it, he heard Lucien patting the fire out of his breeches and smiled. Your eyes caught Eris’s, unable to stop the enjoyment at seeing him so happy.

“How crass, High Lord. To speak of your departed father in such a way.”

Eris’s eyes nearly bulged from his head, an excuse sitting on the tip of his tongue until he caught a glint of amusement in your eye. He clicked his tongue, looking straight ahead toward the path.

“You sound like Lucien, my least favorite brother.”

A cough came from behind, but Eris didn’t turn to look at his brother before replying. “Chaperones are merely to ensure our innocence and chastity, not to butt into conversation.”

“Yes, we are quite innocent and chaste up here. No deflowering has occurred on your watch,” you added.

“I do love a good deflowering, but watching it happen to my brother is not what I wish to see.”

Steam practically shot out of Eris’s ears at Lucien’s quip, but your giggles broke him from his anger.

“A virgin High Lord. How noble of you, your grace. And you picked me to deflower you? I’m so honored.”

The High Lord of Autumn had half a mind to forego the frivolity of tradition. Two weeks of his brother following him around was sure to end in murder. He knew you were quite a fan of them, some romanticized notion of courting traditions in your mind he couldn’t quite bear to see squashed.

Your first night there had been enough for him to put up with meddling brothers for a lifetime. He had shown you around the Forest House per your request. He listened intently during the tour as you compared the Forest House to the Snowflake Palace, comparing your current home to what was hopefully set to be a future one. You were now comparing balconies, ones you had shown him on his tour, balconies carved in part from ice in the upper levels of the palace.

“I’m sure you could remodel here with your flames a bit.”

A chuckle made you smile, happy to amuse him over such silly imaginings.

“I don’t think they’d be structurally sound to stand on.”

“Hmm, that’s a shame. A flaming throne room would really make the place shine.”

The two of you moved through the house, wandering through centuries of history. Stories flowed from Eris’s mouth - items that were millennium old, passed down through the Vanserra line carefully. Things the high lord has grown so accustomed to seeing every day he had forgotten to enjoy the intricate details of them.

At some point on the tour, Lucien had stepped away, having to attend to some matter on his own.

“I could show you where your chambers would be if you moved here.”

You stopped, grabbing Eris by the elbow to get his attention. You held his arm as you spoke, the fabric of his jacket soft in your hand.

“Eris, if I am to wed, I would rather spend my nights with my husband. It’s no fun sleeping alone.”

He swallowed harshly, needing a moment before he responded. “Noted.”

“Would that be a problem?”

“Not at all.”

“Then can you show me your chambers?” Eris swore under his breath, the direct question straining his pants.

“Lucien steps away for an hour and you’re already trying to deflower me.”

“Maybe the chaperone was for me, Eris.”

Eris was still staying in his old chambers, wanting Beron’s old chambers completely renovated before he moved into them. His room was somewhere in the west wing, the windows facing a large field that had massive stables at the end of the horizon. You walked to the window, ignoring inspecting the rest of the furniture in favor of the lush green pasture.

“Horses?”

“Hounds,” he corrected, his voice dripping with pride. It jogged your memory - the brief conversation you had earlier about his pack of hounds.

“Do they sleep in the bed with you?”

The silence stretched on for a moment before he asked, “how important is the answer to that?”

You shrugged your shoulders, squinting your eyes as you looked at the field, trying to make out any dog-like shapes. “I’m often incredibly cold during the night and a warm, furry friend would be nice.”

“It’d be a shame then to not tell you that they all end up here during the night.”

You whipped your head to him, incredulity coating your words. “How many are there?”

“A dozen or so.”

A laugh escaped from you. Eris Vanserra, a male supposedly cut from Beron’s cloth who had half of Prythian annoyed at him and the other infuriated with him, had a pack of hounds to keep him company at night?

“This is delightful.” Only a few hours into the trip and you had already learned so much about Eris.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.” You leaned against the wall, turning your body toward him. It didn’t go unnoticed when he stepped slightly closer, following to not let any more distance linger between you two. “The other courts think you’re the Mother’s curse upon faekind. If only they knew you liked snuggling.”

“Even cursed ones have hobbies when they’re not ransacking villages or plaguing the common fae.”

The day was supposed to end with a dinner in your honor, celebrating relations between Winter and Autumn, and a way for you to meet more people in the Forest House. Instead you had asked if you could share dinner in his chambers, citing the travels of the day making you weary.

An excuse Eris saw through, but elected not to say anything. He’d be damned to give up this much alone time with you, certain Lucien would make himself known at any moment.

The two of you ate and drank in Eris’s sitting room, not having ventured into his bedchambers. This trip was about you and he’d follow your lead, no matter how straining it became.

“We’ve been on our own for several hours now. Do you think our chaperone’s gone?”

“With any luck he’s fallen into an uncapped well or perhaps gotten lost at sea.”

“I don’t think we’re that lucky, Eris.”

He leaned back in his seat, the wood creaking as he stretched out his long legs.

“It’s night time. He’s likely off writing a letter, waxing poetry about how much he’s missing his mate.”

“You’re not concerned about any interruptions, then?”

“At this point Lucien should be old enough to know better. What he sees is on him.”

The words had barely left his mouth before you glanced down at his trousers, noting the clear outline of his bulge. You looked back up to find his searing gaze on you, amber eyes full of molten want, the air around the two of you hot enough to have sweat prickling at your neck. You patted his shoulder, trying to soothe the rejection before it came.

“Still, he only has the one eye. Wouldn’t want to completely blind him.” You wanted to - your legs practically shook with need. Something held you back from allowing him in fully, to take in every aspect of this potential relationship.

Eris had escorted you back to your room, unperturbed by the earlier rejection. He only waited as you stood across from him, not quite ready to open your door and bid him goodnight. The longer you stood here, his body heat practically inviting you closer, the more likely you were to cave into your carnal wants.

His own restraint did little to quell the ache between your legs. In fact, it made it worse. He was being respectful, never pushing or upset at the space you needed.

“I should go to bed.”

A half attempt at moving, to get your brain in gear, to retire for the evening, but as long as his eyes were on you, it was hard to pull away from his orbit.

-

If Eris had it his way, this whole visit would have been structured so differently. Every meal just the two of you, spending only a few hours apart for some necessary meetings he had.

But you had asked for traditional courting.

So he put up with more chaperoned walks through the garden, meals spent with others, hardly getting a moment alone with you for weeks until you slipped into his sitting room each night, recounting the time spent apart. You saw more of Lucien than you did him, his brother neglecting almost all of his duties in favor of entertaining at all hours of the day.

Eris was on the brink of wringing Lucien’s neck. Watching his eyes pop from his head would amuse him, wondering if the mechanical one would pop out too or if it would stay in its socket forever.

Most of Autumn’s rituals around love and commitment were saved for the day of the wedding or the ceremony itself. Fire night was a big event, but that was six months out and Eris couldn’t wait that long. He had been racking his brain for ages, trying to figure out something to showcase Autumn.

-

The proposal weighed heavy on your mind over the days you spent with him. While you were having a great time, Kallias never made you feel like you had to marry for political advantage. He actually seemed to prefer you to marry outside of it. Your brother desperately wanted you to marry any of the athletes of Winter, preferably from his favored teams.

You were having a great time being courted - finally being allowed to soak in Eris’s company was a delight. But you couldn’t quite say yes.

Eris had told you it would be an early morning and to dress in layers and to wear pants, but it was all he’d give you. You took his advice, layering well for the Autumn chill, lacing up your boots when a knock came at the door. Eris stood on the other side of the door, a tweed jacket unbuttoned, showing off a matching vest beneath it. Dark pants clung to his thighs, disappearing into the knee high boots hugging his calves. He said nothing, letting his gaze trail up the pants that hugged your thighs, a devilish smirk on his face that almost had you pulling him into your chambers.

“Ready?” He asked, extending an elbow toward you. You accepted it, letting him lead you on whatever adventure he wanted to show you.

“I thought I would show you one of my traditions.” You stayed silent, waiting for him to tell you more, but he didn’t say more, only looking forward as he walked. He guided the two of you through the house, up to some side hallway that led to the pasture behind the house. Barks came from the door at the end, either excitement or aggression you couldn’t say.

“And what is this tradition?”

“Whenever my mother would successfully give birth, I would take my hounds out and catch dinner.” He paused, one of his hands resting on the doorknob before he turned to face you.

“Would this bother you?” He fully faced you, close enough that you could almost touch him. You reached out, your hand brushing his, letting his warmth wake you up. Standing in the hallway with him felt like standing in the sun after a long, cold day, his gaze enough to warm your bones.

You shook your head, hunting for game a familiar one in Winter.

“I’ve never hunted with animals before.” The only movement was an eyebrow before his fingers held your hand. “Kallias is really into trapping.” Furs and meat were the two necessities to make it in Winter, most court citizens avid hunters.

He nodded, surprise evident on his face, but he said nothing. He squeezed your hand gently, looking deep into your eyes, fondness clear in his gaze. He looked on the verge of saying something, but only turned the knob, letting the early morning haze in, not quite clearing the lovesick haze that had settled in your stomach.

All the barking stopped immediately once Eris opened the door, the sound of dozens of paws hitting the ground thunderous in your ears. They quickly mobbed the pair of you, standing politely, tails wagging furiously. Several colors of fur tried to make their way to you, a dozen noses desperately trying to reach you. You giggled, reaching a hand out to pet one of them. You’d get to nuzzle one of their heads before another hound pushed it out of the way, trying to get your affection.

Eris gave a short, high-pitched whistle, sending the party into a frozen state, each one on high alert as they waited for his next order. It was almost terrifying how well they listened to his command, moving in tandem as if from one mind.

They all focused on him, a few with tilted heads. He let out a series of whistles, the meaning lost to you, but they understood. They moved as a group, their movements wispy and light, practically floating on air as they moved through the pasture, keeping a pace you couldn’t even dream of reaching.

“How do we find them?” Eris began trudging off after them, following the line in the morning dew they had made. From the front of the house, when you had arrived only a few days ago, you couldn’t have guessed at this large field hidden among the trees, this quiet sanctuary beyond a house containing Prythian’s greatest secrets.

“We follow as best we can. They’ll let us know when they find something.” A large crossbow was hung across his shoulder, not quite sure how you had missed it beforehand. It covered the muscles of his back, showing off his broad shoulders.

“What sort of expectations are there for the Lady of Autumn?” You had briefly met the previous one on this trip, Eris’s mother graciously inviting you for afternoon tea. You spoke for an hour with her, charmed by her while also being moderately terrified of her.

A woman married to Beron for centuries certainly had some skeletons in her own closet. You hadn’t thought to ask about her duties as Lady of the court, but rather mostly about Eris.

“There are a few, first and foremost being at court events.” Something you had expected - it would be silly to have a title and never be seen by the public. “My mother has her own passions and hobbies that take up her time, I don’t expect anyone,” he sent you a pointed look, “to do exactly as she does. Be present, be someone Autumn recognizes. Represent Autumn and see dignitaries from other courts. Other than that, it’s how much or how little sway she wishes to have.”

“Would I have to wear all green and red?” He laughed, the sound disturbing some roosting birds nearby, their wings taking flight.

“You may wear whatever color you like.”

“How often is Lucien around?”

“Not very. He comes usually for a day at a time, if that. He’s only here so frequently because he jumped at the chance to be a thorn in my side.”

Barks came from up ahead, the whole pack in an uproar, clearly catching the scent of something.

Eris grabbed your hand, the two of you running to catch whatever it was they found. You felt giddy at it all - his hand around yours, running through the trees. You felt so much younger and freer as the wind blew through your hair.

Could this be life with Eris?

-

The dogs had been unsuccessful. Eris did not want to admit it, but you were certain it had to do with how many questions you asked him, the chatter enough to scare off any nearby game, no matter the lead the dogs had on you.

The two of you spent the entire day outside, trying to find anything worthwhile, only calling it a day as the sun began to set. You had trudged back to the Forest House, unsure what you wanted more: a good meal or a long hot shower. Stepping inside, the house smelled divine - rich, fragrant foods that had your mouth watering.

The cooks must have heard your dilemma and answered for you. The two of you sat and ate, not much to say, too exhausted and gross to have anything of note to vocalize.

The silence gave you plenty of time to think. Eris had shown you a part of himself today, showing one of his favorite pastimes, it was only fair you did the same.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” It was the first thing you had said since coming inside, waiting until Eris was walking you to your chambers to ask it. The question clearly caught him off guard, his head lightly shaking in surprise.

“Of course.”

A rhythmic ceremony of sorts played out as the two of you prepared for bed. Taking turns bathing and changing into bed attire, nestling into bed, it all felt so comfortable and relaxing. The room smelled like him, coated in a smoky scent so thick it nearly made you dizzy.

As you lifted the covers laying next to Eris, two of the hounds jumped onto the bed, curling at his feet. You laughed, patting the bed next to you for one of them to come closer, but it only invited one of the ones on the floor to jump up.

Her brown fur was soft as it landed next to you, your hand petting her automatically. You curled around her body, an almost crescent moon shape to both of you. You felt the bed shift before Eris had done the same to you: contorting his body around yours, pulling your back flush to his chest.

The room smelled of Eris, but it also smelled like his hounds in the best way. The one in your arms, Cinnamon, nestled in for the night, and the contentment at being cocooned between their two bodies quickly lulled you to sleep.

-

A few hounds had made their way into the bed through the night, rotating as if in shifts to ensure they all got a turn. One or two were posted at each entrance, guarding both the bathroom and the door to his sitting room. One sat beneath a window, stationed there most of the night, her eyes on you whenever you woke up in the night.

Eris woke not long after you did, his arms circling tighter around you as he breathed you in.

“Does she sleep at all?” You asked, breaking the stillness of the morning. Eris only groaned, burying his face into your hair. His fingers dug into your hips, the millimeter of space between the two of you too offensive. He grumbled something incomprehensible into your hair, the words unintelligible.

“What was that?”

“Who?” You nodded toward the dog beneath the window, her gaze already on the two of you. She had a dark auburn coat, her long hair perfect to disappear amongst fallen leaves.

“That’s Lady. Not a cuddler.”

“Not even with you?”

“She cuddles in her own way. Sits near me and I have to stay very still.”

The image was incredibly endearing - the High Lord of Autumn letting his dog come to him in her own way, accommodating her as best he could. It had your heart practically bursting in your chest. You didn’t ask anymore questions, letting the room grow quiet with laziness.

Nobody moved for a long while, even the hounds staying still as they sprawled across the floor. Eventually a stomach growled - yours or Eris’s, you couldn’t tell. One of the hounds, Clove, you think, came over and nudged his back, her long snout attempting to get him out of bed.

It took longer than the dog had wanted, reluctance in every movement from both of you, but eventually the two of you left the warmth of the bed and took a walk in the woods, dozens of paws following you around.

Your remaining days in the court went by in a blur of red hair, warm skin, and explorations of the house and the forest surrounding it. You spent your nights tucked in Eris’s arms, the sweet domesticity of sharing a bed enough for both of you.

Each day brought a new confidence, that this was where you were meant to be, but every day something would hold you back, some new question keeping you from saying yes.

Before long, your shared two weeks in Autumn were up, your last night spent in Eris’s chambers, tangled in his arms and legs. He had held you tight all night, not wanting to let you go even as he slept.

-

A few hours before you were set to leave, luck had been on your side. One of the servants had let slip that Lucien had set off early that morning, some business in the Night Court requiring his immediate attention.

The sun was rising through the trees, chasing away the darkness of the night, bringing with it new life. The sun, for all its glory, hadn’t warmed up the ground yet, unable to fight the cool morning air yet. The cold in Autumn was different from Winter. It was familiar, a few details exchanged. The cold in Winter was dry and bone deep. The Autumn chill clung to you, stuck like a second skin.

Eris walked beside you, a few of his hounds trotting around the pair of you. The rest of them were out in the woods, chasing each other, investigating every scent trail they could find. The ones left behind were a guard of sort, likely expected to raise an alarm should anything happen.

The air was heavy with humidity and uncertainty, neither of you ready for what the afternoon would bring. Once you left, he’d have a busy day, ironing out the details of all the things he had pushed aside the past few weeks.

You weren’t sure when you would be back, if you would be back. Your mind was telling you stay guarded, to not give in. But you remembered Lady’s bright eyes, how she watched Eris everywhere he went, how he made time out of his day to spend a few moments alone with her, letting her come to him.

But now he walked beside you, silent and sure, unwavering as he walked over roots and bramble, a dog weaving between his long legs on occasion.

You bent over, crouching low to the ground and picking up a fallen stick. The leaves on it were still vibrant, some perfect color between orange and red. You held it up to the light before holding it close to Eris’s head, comparing it to his long, bright locks.

“They’re the same color as your hair.”

He moved one of his hands through the air, vaguely gesturing all around. The movement caught someone’s attention, a ball of red fur sitting in anticipation for the stick to be thrown their way.

“Most of them look like my hair.”

“Well that’s not fun.”

“I’m the High Lord of Autumn. It’s not far-fetched to think my lands resemble me.”

You only hummed, marching onwards, more determined with each step. After a moment of pretending to ignore the dog, you threw the stick off to the left when you figured they would least suspect it. The two of you continued in silence, the crunching of your boots crackling through the woods as four legs darted after the stick.

After a moment, you stepped off the path, looking for what had caught your eye. Quickly plucking the flower from its stalk, you hurry back to the bewildered male you left behind. You presented the flower to him before holding it next to his face, pointed so you could see the flower. The bright orange flower flared to life next to him, the perfect companion to the hundreds of freckles dancing across his cheeks.

The flower practically glowed next to him, its petals slightly bending in his direction. You’re not sure which came first: the magic or the life of the land.

“It matches your eyes.”

“My eyes are not orange.” You pulled the flower back, rolling your eyes as you did so.

“Not the petals, the eye of the flower. The center.” You pointed to make it clearer for him, the deep amber middle a perfect match for his eyes. He watched you carefully before looking down at the flower, the orange reflecting in his eyes.

He smiled, his mouth curved in a gorgeous upward tilt. He looked made of the woods, the forest around him bending to be seen by him or to catch a fraction of his warmth.

The crinkles in the corners of his eyes were enough proof you would go to great lengths to see them more permanently.

“So, to whom do I owe the pleasure of your undivided company all morning? I haven’t seen Lucien running about today.”

Eris only looked ahead, picking up a fallen stick and tossing it as far as he could, two of the hounds circling you chasing off after it.

“It seems he found a new toy to play with.”

“Must be some toy to pull him away from any opportunity to bother you.”

“I’m quite skilled at bargaining when there’s something I desire.”

“It wasn’t just luck that sent Lucien off this morning, was it?”

He merely shrugged, his hands clasped behind his back, the air of nonchalance he was attempting not quite landing right.

“I’m sure my brother’s told you I’m a selfish creature.”

A coy smile made its way across your face.

“Perhaps.”

“He’s not wrong.” The look he gave you felt all consuming. Amber eyes peering through every defense, every blockade of yours. He looked down at you, more resembling his hounds on the hunt for their toys than a male. The look pierced through every defense you had, nearly crumbling at the sight of it.

-

You had one last meal planned with Eris, one last time to speak over everything. He didn’t ask - staying silent, waiting for you to come to him.

There was one last question you couldn’t bring yourself to ask yet. It was the one thing keeping you from saying yes. Your last inhibition. It could all end depending upon his response.

“Eris, how are you different from your father?” He had only touched on the subject of Beron your first day here. It had been in an unfavorable manner, but you couldn’t tie yourself to someone without knowing the full truth.

“I haven’t burnt anyone alive so far.”

Your fork fell to your plate, so surprised at Eris’s words all of your senses stopped working. You knew Beron was a cruel man, but the extent of the harm he was producing in his court was unknown.

“That’s diabolical.”

Eris put his fork down softly, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

“Forgive me, it’s a question I am asked over and over again, even by myself. It’s a bit frustrating.”

His hand reached across the table, holding yours softly. His eyes were molten amber as they looked at you, honesty pouring out of them.

“I fear becoming like my father. I fear it’s inevitable. That is why I wish to keep people around me who will keep me in check. Lucien does a decent job, but he’s an emissary. He’s not always around. My mother wishes to spend her time between Day and Autumn.

“I need a life partner. Someone that will keep me from my worst tendencies. Someone that will keep me from becoming him. Someone that I like spending time with.”

“And I’m all of those things?” Your voice was soft, a murmur amidst the candlelight.

“And more.”

“Well, for the sake of honesty, maybe you should continue on with that list.”

His smile made your heart beat wildly, erratic beats you couldn’t calm no matter how hard you tried. The incandescent glow of the candlelight made him so striking it almost hurt to look at his beauty.

“You have always seen me. And I made a promise to you all those years ago. I know you aren’t seeing anyone else, and I’m a lovestruck fool who can’t help but hope that that is because of me. That you return my feelings toward you.”

You leaned in, desperate to close the space between you.

“And what are your feelings toward me?”

“Ones of yearning and love.”

Your breath caught in your throat, his eyes pleading with you to return his affections.

“Eris Vanserra, the secret romantic.”

“Only for you.”

You reached a hand out, caressing his cheek. You watched him swallow hard, his adam’s apple bobbing with movement. Your gaze kept flickering between his eyes and his lips, debating where to pay attention to.

All along, every decision was yours. You took the lead while he waited, letting you guide whatever this was. He did it with Lady, taking his time, putting her comfort over his wants.

“You were right. I was waiting for you.” You closed the gap between your faces, bringing your lips to his. He tasted sweet and warm, a bit of spice to it. His lips captured yours, melding perfectly to the shape of them. It felt perfect as his hand slid down to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You almost fell out of the chair, breaking the kiss to squeal, but he caught you, pulling you into his lap. His lips reconnected with yours, more fervent this time. He had gotten a taste, and now he was desperate for more. His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you flush to his body.

It felt right. This was the last thing you needed to say yes.

You pulled back from his lips just enough to speak.

“There’s one last thing I need to know before I can make up my mind.”

“Anything.” Looking into his eyes, you felt the truth to that one word. He would give you anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask.

“I’d never marry someone without spending the night with them.” Your low voice was dripping with innuendo. The smell of his arousal coated the air as you leaned in to kiss him once more. His hands moved down to your ass, gripping you tight against him. Too caught up in the moment, neither of you heard the door open, ana mused Lucien trying to look displeased.

“Well, well, well, High Lord. And you mocked me for needing a chaperone. I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re-“

Eris quickly pushed the door close with his magic, forcing Lucien from the room without leaving your lips.

He held you close to him, savoring the moment. His mouth curled into a smug expression, an arrogant look in his eye before he said, “I’m sure I was worth the wait.”

Banner by @tsunami-of-tears

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Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124 @secret-third-thing

Gingerfucker taglist: @bookwormysblog @talesofadragon @saltedcoffeescotch

[coriihanniee]

Guess WHO! - boynextdoor smau

𓂃۶ৎ SYNOPSIS : When multiple leaked photos ignite a wildfire of speculation, the world is certain—BOYNEXTDOOR'S Y/N is secretly dating one of the members. But who? No one knows, and you refuse to clear the air. Instead, you turn the chaos into a game, scattering cryptic clues and half-truths while every member plays along, deepening the mystery. Every glance, every post, every moment is a riddle waiting to be solved. Is the answer hidden in plain sight, or are you leading everyone in circles? How far can a secret stretch before it unravels? And when it does—will anyone be ready for the truth?

𓂃۶ৎ PAIRING : boynextdoor x 7th member!reader

𓂃۶ৎ GENRE(S) : smau, romance

𓂃۶ৎ WARNING(S) : kys/kms jokes, sexual jokes, gay jokes, random timestamps/timeskips, profanities, mentions of food

𓂃۶ৎ STATUS : completed!

𓂃۶ৎ AUTHOR'S NOTE : YAYYYYY NEW SMAU!!! I've been anticipating writing this one and I'm so happy to finally share it with all of you! I just think this is a new interesting take of a smau bcs I believe I haven't seen anyone do such a smau before! Place your bets! Who do you think is y/n's secret boyfriend?~ 😉 (credits to original owner for the main header!)

𓂃۶ৎ This is purely fictional and does not reflect the idols' real personality!

PROFILES

WHO WHO WHO'S THERE?

BOY BOY BOYNEXTDOOR!

CHAPTERS

01. fish police

02. yn x bubbles the fifth

03. leehan's sexy nonchalant bf moment

04. Thomas the Train written

05. alpha males

06. daebak escape arc

07. @taeandco(at)

08. baldy sungho

09. pp comeback

10. taiyaki whore

11. yn harem written

12. magical girl taesan

13. yn deathbed era

14. bearyoncé

15. red roses delivery

16. caught in 4k??

17. rainy situation written

18. leehan's cherry...coke???

19. babyhak, uwu 🥺

20. leehan's best girl

21. livestream gone wrong written

22. yn's dessert expert written

23. lice world domination

24. the plane menace

25. boomer jaehyun

26. the arcade duo written

27. an airport catastrophe written

28. it's not your fault

29. thanks, Sungho written

30. my best mistake (you) written

31. my darling you

BONUS CHAPTERS

1. discord kitten

2. new rumours?!?!

3. our youth is free written

@coriihanniee 💌

taglist : @lvlyhiyyih @supi-wupi @tinyelfperson @heeheesang @molensworld @wondoras @taesanfav @bbyinni @minfolio @mbella607 @cinnamonshuaa @defnotsanni @amarecerasus @enaile23 @nujeskz @janjoonty @imhereonlytoreadxoxo @pumpkg @cosmicwintr @mimimimiaa @hanniehq @s0shroe @slowlylefttyphoon @s1lkrabbit @missychief1404 @fae-renjun

[yan-lorkai]

Fae/faerie Jade trying to get lost reader's name and her being like '🤨 uh, no, give me yours first, let's trade' without knowing that's basically like betrothing herself with him

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: Lowkey I believed faes/fairies used to exist when I was kid lol. And I'm telling y'all this because I had a dream quite similar to this fic lololol, it was a good dream tho :>

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ tagging: @harukishiyo @kiraiyugen

"You're quite charming," he says, his voice soft and almost reverent, as if speaking an undeniable truth. "Precious, even. Why won't you tell me your name?"

You hesitate, narrowing your eyes at him. There's something about the way he asks, the smoothness of his tone, that feels too inviting, too... dangerous. For a second, you study him, his sudden appearance intriguing you.

You cross your arms, trying to appear more confident than you feel. "Uh, no. Mister, you should tell me your name first," you say, thinking you’ve cleverly sidestepped whatever game he’s playing. "Or... We could trade names."

For a moment, his eyes widen, surprise flickering across his face. But then his lips curl into a slow, satisfied smile, one that makes your stomach tighten in a way you can’t quite place. "Ah, a trade, is it?" he murmurs, the words rolling off his tongue with a hint of amusement. "Very well, if that is what you wish... I shall oblige."

He leans in slightly, his gaze never leaving yours, and for a brief second, you feel as though the air around you has thickened, charged with something unspoken. When he speaks his name - Jade, like the gem, it’s with a deliberate, almost theatrical grace, each syllable drawn out as if he’s savoring the moment. His voice is like silk, and his name feels heavy, lingering in the air between you.

And the sound is almost magical, hypnotic even.

You don't realize it, but the moment you suggested a trade, you unknowingly set the trap he had been waiting for. To exchange names with a fae is to offer something more than just words; it’s an agreement, a binding promise. By giving yours, you would be tying yourself to him, just as he’s doing now.

And the look in his eyes — the way they gleam with that mix of amusement and something darker — tells you that he knows exactly what you've just offered, even if you don't.

When you finally open your mouth to respond, you don’t see the invisible chains that have begun to form around you, nor do you hear the silent vow he’s made to keep you by his side.

"Well," you begin, a bit nervously, trying to shake off the sudden intensity in his eyes. "I guess it’s only fair to share mine now." You tell him your name, and as the words leave your lips, you can't help but notice how his smile widens, sharp and satisfied, like a predator finally closing in on its prey.

“Ah, so that is your name, Yuu,” he repeats, almost reverently, as if tasting it, repeating it again and again as if he was getting used to it. “Beautiful… fitting, even.”

He takes a step closer, and you instinctively take a step back, but he follows, closing the distance again. “You have no idea what you’ve just given me, do you?” His voice is gentle, but there’s an underlying current, a subtle shift that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

You blink, confused. “What do you mean?” you ask, feeling a little defensive. “It’s just my name. We traded, remember?”

“Oh, but it’s not just a name,” he replies, tilting his head as if amused by your innocence. “To share a name with a fae is to forge a bond, one that can not easily be broken. You offered a piece of yourself, and I’ve accepted it. Just as I have given you a piece of me in return.”

You stare at him, the realization dawning on you slowly, like the creeping shadow of a storm. You had to have misunderstood what he just said.

“Wait… Are you saying…?” Your words falter as you search his eyes, looking for any sign that he’s joking, but there’s none. The grin on his face is too calm, too knowing, as if he’s been planning this all along.

“Yes, my dear,” he says, his voice soft and almost affectionate, yet there’s a possessiveness in his tone that makes your heart skip a beat. “We are bound now, betrothed, if you wish to call it that. You belong to me, just as I belong to you. Isn’t it delightful? Mom and dad will be glad to know you.”

Your heart starts pounding, a mix of disbelief and panic surging through you. “No, no, that’s not what I meant!” You stammer, shaking your head as if you can undo the words you’ve already spoken. “I didn’t agree to… to this! I can't get married right now.”

He doesn’t seem fazed by your protest. If anything, he looks even more delighted now. “Oh, but we're married now due to fae traditions. The moment you proposed the trade, you sealed your fate. And I have no intention of letting you go, my precious beloved one.”

He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch cool but oddly soothing. “Do not fear, Yuu. I shall take care of you, cherish you… just as a good partner should.”

You try to pull away, but his hand cups your cheek, holding you gently in place. “There is no need to run, no need to fight. We are bound by something far stronger than mere words. You wished to know my name, and now… you will never forget it.”

The forest around you feels like it’s closing in, the air thick with something unseen, as if the world itself acknowledges the bond between you. And in his eyes, you see no hint of malice, only a patient, eternal watchfulness, as if he’s content to wait, to let you come to terms with what you’ve unknowingly become a part of.

“I’ll give you time to understand,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a soft, almost tender smile as he presses a kiss to your temple. “But know this… I am yours, just as you are mine. And there is no escaping what has been forged tonight... Love.”

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Fae-ing both sides

Summary:

Stephanie Brown would very much like to dismiss all ideas that she was a rule breaker. She was absolutely not. She had abided by the rules perfectly well, thank you very much. Rule number 1 said, quote: “Do not go into the forest unless absolutely necessary.” Do you see that fun little loophole? Unless absolutely necessary. Which this absolutely was.

Or: Steph finds out that the inhuman sometimes display the most humanity out of anyone.

Stephanie Brown would very much like to dismiss all ideas that she was a rule breaker. She was absolutely not. She had abided by the rules perfectly well, thank you very much.

Rule number 1 said, quote: “Do not go into the forest unless absolutely necessary.”

Do you see that fun little loophole?

Unless absolutely necessary.

Which this absolutely was.

You see, a few months ago, two more kids had been taken from them – even more, they had actively run into the forest. Bernard Dowd had been taken by someone that they had thought to be one of their own. ‘Tim Drake’, a changeling that had managed to bypass the detection of everyone in the village, who had fooled even his parents until it was too late.

And this was all tragic. They were in Steph’s age group. Just kids.

But that wasn’t what had whispers spreading through the town like wildfire. This wasn’t what caused everyone to line up in the town center to slice their hands with an iron knife. This wasn’t why the townsfolk were beginning to gather in the middle of the poorest district to discuss their next steps, as if the many walls surrounding them would keep the many pointed ears within the forest from catching wind of their plans.

A fae had gotten past the gate. Had been getting past the gate for who knows how long. They weren’t safe anymore. Maybe they never had been.

As much as humans love to think themselves to be above all other species, they still react the same when threatened. They’re more advanced in their weaponry, but they still bare their teeth and prepare themselves to attack the moment control starts to slip from their desperate, greedy hands.

And, as much as humans hate acknowledging it, the creatures of the night that they loved to think of as something other were still very much like humans. They were more powerful, inconceivably so, but that didn’t change as much as they all liked to pretend.

Steph didn’t think that backing beings with powers beyond their comprehension into a corner would lead to anything good.

Besides, her dad was the one leading the resistance. He had been quietly fuming for years, paranoid about Steph getting stolen (or, worse: leaving of her own accord, for then he would have to truly acknowledge what he was doing to her and her mother), cursing out the faerie at every given opportunity.

Steph had almost dared to hope that he would lighten up now that Tim and Bernard had been taken. As terrible as it might be to think it, usually only one or two children were stolen at a time, and the quota had been met. She was safe.

But, whether the paranoia had been increased by the loss of people so close in age to her or because that had never truly been the problem, Steph saw her father leading the ‘resistance’ from their living room.

Steph… didn’t know whether it was right or wrong, didn’t know if the fae would even need her help, but she couldn’t sit idly by as the people of her village prepared an attack. It was slimy, their plan to creep into the woods in the dead of night, iron weapons held aloft, preparing to ambush the faerie while they were still adjusting to the new additions to their family (or, ‘family’, as the townsfolk loved to say with a heavy emphasis on the implied quotation marks), when they were still weak. They claimed that they were just evening the playing field. Steph wasn’t all that sure. There were no rules in a war, but shouldn’t they at least tell the other side that they were planning on starting one?

And, really, anything her father opposed must be good, right?

People always talk about the devil you know versus the one that you don’t, but Steph knew the devil that was her father, and knew that there wasn’t much that could be worse.

Which was why, moments after the meeting ended, Steph found herself clambering up the ladder out of her house and joining the many people milling along the roofs of their district. Some people were lucky enough to have doorways, or even private windows that they could crawl through, but this was uncommon. Most people, like her, had a hatch atop their homes that they clambered in and out of daily to go about their tasks.

Steph held her hands out to either side, balancing carefully on the ‘good’ boards that reliably held people’s weight, all of them painted in a vibrant blue that could be picked out even at night. She was sure that she was accidentally raining down pieces of dust on the occupants of the houses she passed over, but people preferred that to her trying out new boards at risk of crashing through their roofs and making the soon-to-be rainy season more difficult than it needed to be.

And the weather was what made it all quite so pressing. Finally, the winter that had ascended upon them all right after Tim and Bernard disappeared had begun to lighten up. Three months had passed without the townsfolk leaving the safety and warmth of their houses for long, making an immediate attack nigh but impossible, but their time had been well spent regardless. Compiling all of the stories that had once fascinated Bernard so, this time carefully abiding by the rules of his collection and fully intending on weaponizing it.

But, if their talks of getting the faeries while they were down were anything to go off of, the village folk would not be waiting for much longer.

She placed a careful hand on the fence. It was freezing cold to the touch, and her breath puffed in front of her face.

A shiver ran through her. It wasn’t cold out.

She clambered over it as quickly as she could, risking a sprained ankle by jumping down rather than staying in contact with the unnatural thing for a second longer than she absolutely had to.

The forest was warm. Inviting, really. She wasn’t sure whether she preferred it.

All she was sure about was the fact that she wanted to get in and out of the woods as fast as was physically possible.

She glanced back at the village to make sure no one had seen her and, by the time she had turned back towards the forest, a path had appeared, nestled among the trees, as if it had always been there. She swallowed thickly, her fingers bunching the hem of her shirt.

She carefully made her way into the forest. She kept her head down, eyes firmly on the path beneath her. She was pretty sure that the fae that lived in their forest were not pixies or sprites, so the chances of pixie-led were low… but who said that the ability to create and get rid of paths in hopes of making humans get lost was unique to that specific type of faerie? And, with the way the townsfolk talked about the forest, the idea of the fae outright trapping children in the forest until they had no choice but to go with them for fear of starving to death was not out of character.

Steph looked back again and narrowed her eyes at the scenery. The path behind her was gone, and the world around her was different (when did that stream get there?) but she’d gone in a straight line, so theoretically this should be fine.

She bit her lip.

Best not to go any further.

“Tim! Bernard!” She yelled.

For a moment, nothing happened.

A branch slapped her shoulder. She shrieked. There were not enough curse words for this.

Tim and Bernard appeared in the moment she flinched but, instantly, Steph could tell something was wrong.

For one thing, they both had animal-like traits. Tim had two horns sprouting from his head and a long, scaly tail wound around his own leg. Bernard had dog ears nestled in his now-curly hair.

This was expected, though. If the two truly were faerie, then they would get faerie traits.

What was not expected was Tim was doubling over in pain, his hand clutching his stomach, hissing through gritted teeth. Bernard hovered around him anxiously, not touching him but clearly wanting to.

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked, suddenly wondering whether maybe her father was correct in his assessment of the fae.

Bernard grimaced. “Don’t summon him with his name anymore — or say his name at all, really. He recently had some… trouble with it.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay… what should I call him instead?”

“Drake,” the newly-named ‘Drake’ said, smiling weakly.

“But that’s…” That was his last name. Was that different? Or did he not see it as his name anymore?

Bernard grinned. “Don’t worry about it. Just… call for me, and I’ll take him along, okay?”

She took a cautious step back. “You say that like you’re expecting me to come back.”

“Pattern recognition,” Bernard shrugged. “When kids enter the woods, they always come back. Until they can’t leave.”

“Okay, that’s terrifying, I’m going to go home now –.”

Drake huffed, leaning to rest against a tree. “Nope, you summoned us for a reason, tell us what it is.”

Steph hesitated. She didn’t know Bernard and Drake personally. She’d seen them around town from time to time, chatted with them more than once by virtue of them all being the same age, but she wouldn’t have been able to know whether they were lying.

However, they were faerie now, so lying wasn’t an option.

“Are you being treated well?” she asked, quietly.

Drake’s expression softened. “Yes.”

“Yep,” Bernard confirmed.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps faerie were not good, stealing children was still objectively wrong in most scenarios, but neither were humans.

So, she may as well make the fight just as equal.

“The village is planning to try and kill you guys.”

Both of them straightened instantly.

“Are you sure?” Drake asked.

She snorted. “Pretty sure, seeing as most of the meetings happen in my living room.”

The pair of faeries considered this for a few moments.

“Your living room, huh…?” Bernard mused. He looked at Drake. “Could you be a dear and go grab our Item for me?”

Drake tipped his head to the side in a silent question, but nodded easily. He disappeared as if he had never been there at all, and then came back, a golden chain with a locket hanging from one of his fingers.

“Thank you,” Bernard said, lifting the necklace. He held it up to the light, allowing her to inspect the way it didn’t seem to catch the sun’s rays at all. Instead, it glimmered on its own, magic dancing on the edge of his fingertips.

“Neither Drake nor I were born faerie, so we have to use physical Items to tether ourselves to this world instead of a mushroom ring.”

He held it out for her.

“This is our Item. If you keep it on you, we should be able to hear anything you do.”

She, hesitantly, took it from him.

The chain was of good quality, long and seemingly solid gold. She thought that it alone might be enough to get her entire family out of poverty. Not that she would ever risk selling it, but it was a little tempting.

So, she moved onto the next part to distract herself. The locket, a simple heart, popped open the moment she touched it. One side of the locket was a tiny mirror, and the other was dedicated to a picture of Tim and Bernard, smiling and waving at her.

Drake squirmed. “Don’t touch it too much, it’s… weird. Like you’re poking me a bunch.”

Steph grinned, barely suppressing the urge to start poking the locket incessantly. These were still faerie, even if she had grown up seeing them around town, annoying them was absolutely not in her best interest.

“Gotcha.” She slipped the necklace over her head with ease, letting the locket come to rest beneath her shirt where no one would be able to see it. “They should give up eventually, I’ll give you this back when they do. But, for now, see you never.”

She lifted her hand in a two-finger salute.

Drake grinned. “We’ll see about that, St —.”

Her shoulders hiked up to her ears. She had forgotten that, if she knew their name, it was perfectly likely that they would know hers, too.

Thankfully, Drake cut himself off before he could say it with a sheepish smile. “Looks like we should probably have a code name for you, too.”

“What should we call you?”

“I’m… uh… the professional spoiler of plans!”

“That’s a bit of a mouthful,” Bernard teased lightly. “How about just ‘Spoiler’?”

Steph hummed thoughtfully. She could do that, but… “I liked the ‘professional’ part…”

“But ‘professional’ implies that you’re expecting a payment,” Drake pointed out.

“Nonono,” Steph said quickly, holding up her hands placatingly. “No strings attached. Outside of the necklace string, I guess… Whatever! I’m just doing this for your sake. I don’t want a Deal, you don’t have to repay me.”

“It’s a Gift, then,” Bernard offered.

She nodded rapidly. “A Gift. I’m gifting you this help.”

“Awesome, well, we appreciate and accept your Gift. Now head home before your parents notice you’re gone, yeah?”

Steph didn’t wait another second.

~

“Where have you been?” her father asked the moment she had put her foot on the last rung of the ladder.

She whirled around, her eyes wide, pressing back against the cool metal. “Getting milk.” She held up the bottle she’d bought on the way home for an alibi.

“You were gone quite a while,” he said.

She shrugged meekly. “Took a scenic route.”

From the look on her father’s face, he wasn’t buying it.

After a while, she ‘admitted’ to having a secret boyfriend, and he seemed pleased to get the information, though he did warn her not to get ‘knocked up’.

But she took it as a win that he left.

She curled up in her cot, hugging her knees to her chest. Her fingers gripped the necklace beneath her shirt.

It was… comfortingly warm. About the temperature another person would be. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine the tiny lines of warmth looping around the back of her neck were someone's arms, giving her a hug.

~

The townsfolk spent the next few weeks getting increasingly frustrated. They swore up and down that they had searched just about every square inch of the nearby forest, but they just couldn’t seem to find the little clearing where the faerie hid out.

And, to the fair folk’s credit, they didn’t retaliate in any way. No one went missing, no one came home hurt, they were all just annoyed that the faerie weren’t appearing for their scheduled executions.

Steph had hoped they would give up the fruitless task.

But humans were nothing if not stubborn.

“We could… use a kid as bait,” her father suggested one day, quiet, looking at Steph out of the corner of his eyes. “If the forest only opens up for children, then we need children, right?”

Steph swallowed thickly.

“I’ll go,” she said. “I’ve been present for all of the meetings, I know everything there is to know about the fae. I have the best chance of coming back, so I volunteer.”

~

Steph stepped onto the path alone, her hands shoved into her pockets. A small, silver pocket knife was curled in her left hand. Her father had made her promise to try and use it if the opportunity arose, and she had agreed. But she was quick to let the weapon ‘slip’ between her fingers the moment she was sure she was thoroughly out of sight of the village.

The fun thing about being a human was that promises meant nothing.

Perhaps being a faerie was better that way. Sure, you had to look for lies by omission, but a series of simple yes or no questions could reveal the truth.

She came upon someone standing in the middle of the path. A tall faerie, with pitch black bat wings and a pleasant, thin-lipped smile.

“You must be the little Spoiler that my boys were telling me about,” he said, his eyes flicking to where the locket lay hidden beneath her shirt. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” she said, nodding her head jerkily.

He hummed lightly, a slightly unearthly sound. It was too high, and it should have put her off, but she found it strangely comforting. “I’ve been told you’ve been sent out here to try and lure me out.”

She nodded. “It’s a test run, though. They’re not here today.”

He sighed, regardless of the fact that he should have been happy he was safe.

For just a moment, she wondered whether he was bummed that he wouldn’t get to fight. Had she chosen the wrong side?

But faerie weren’t humans, they were better:

“To use a child…” Batman said, slowly shaking his head. “Horrible.”

Tears built in her eyes. It… was nice to hear. Maybe the beings concern was fake, but it couldn’t be because fae can’t lie.

She rubbed furiously at her eyes. “I’m not a child.”

“You are young,” Batman said.

She narrowed watery eyes at him, more than aware of the fact that he had forgone directly agreeing with her.

He laughed lightly. A large, clawed hand came to rest atop her head, but it didn’t feel threatening. He ruffled her hair, gently.

“You are too good for them.”

And, if she broke down in the middle of the forest, in the arms of a creature that was supposed to be evil and yet their species had shown her nothing but the kindness the humans back in town seemed to lack…

Well, the forest had many ears, but very few mouths, and the ones it did have would never be trusted by humans anyways.

~

“So?” her father asked, expectant.

She hesitated.

Should she admit she saw the faerie? Would saying she hadn’t discourage them? Or would they just send another person in her place? Someone who might not be as willing to even the playing field as her?

“I found them,” she breathed.

And she tried very hard not to throw up at the expressions of sadistic glee that crossed the village’s faces.

~

Steph stepped onto the path once again, but this time she wasn’t alone. People followed behind her from the shadows, but she secretly doubted that they could truly hide their presence when the forest was full of ears.

She gripped the locket beneath her shirt, hoping silently that the faerie had a plan.

She followed the path diligently, letting it wind around and twist and turn, not concerned about where it was bringing her.

No matter what, she was sure she wouldn’t be leaving the forest today, anyways.

If the faerie won, she probably wouldn’t have a town to go back to. If the humans won, the faerie would likely give away her being a spy, and she would either be left to rot or slaughtered alongside the faerie she had turned traitor for.

She came upon the clearing for the first time.

It was large. Gorgeous in its otherworldliness. The tree branches were interlocked perfectly, leaving the clearing to look almost like the inside of a wooden house. A single lantern provided all the light the place could ever need, and yet that wasn’t all. Magic shimmered in the air, floating around aimlessly like fireflies. The place was gorgeous, and yet homely. There were Items spread about, a chess game left unfinished, a swing swaying back and forth despite the lack of breeze. 

But none of that held her attention for long.

Because a lone faerie stood in the middle of a mushroom ring.

Batman smiled, his hands folded behind his back. “Welcome.”

She gave a jerky nod of acknowledgement. Pleasantries didn’t feel quite fit the situation.

Batman seemed to understand this, because he held a hand out for her, almost beckoning. “Would you like to join us?”

The Item resting against her skin was burning hot.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“There’s always a choice,” Batman said, still smiling kindly. Looking for all the world as if he had all the time he could ever need, as if they weren’t both very well aware of the fact that there was an angry mob heading their way.

“Though I will admit, I do hope you choose me. They never treated you right here, your father —” Batman nearly spat the word, his expression twisting and contorting into something far less natural, far less human, for just a moment; and then it was gone, replaced once again replaced by something kind and sweet, as if it had never been there at all. “— in particular does not deserve you. With me, you will be treated like a princess. Will be allowed to be a kid for as long as you want. Kids need not be involved in this kind of battle.”

She chewed on her bottom lip nervously. “Is this a Gift?”

“No, it’s a Deal, but all I ask for in return is that you be my daughter.”

He moved his hand once again, drawing her eyes back to the quiet offer.

Hesitantly, she took his hand.

“Stephanie,” Arthur Brown hissed.

She winced.

“What is this?”

The hand holding hers spun her in a tight circle, almost a dance move, but one she had not been prepared for. She tripped, falling right into the Batman’s chest. He looped an arm around her, holding her close in a kind of hug.

“It’s rude to interrupt a Deal, you know,” Batman said. “And even more rude to attempt a coup.”

With a lazy wave of his free hand, the weapons in the village folks' hands turned scalding to the touch, radiating with red heat, and they were all quick to drop everything silver.

The grass quietly rippled, lifting the weapons up and away, out the single entrance.

“That’s better,�� Batman sighed. The trees around the entrance shifted, their branches interlocking to block the only way out. “And, to answer your question, I’m taking another one of my children home. Though I don’t know if I should get all the credit for this one.”

His hand tugged at the necklace, dragging the locket out for everyone to see.

“My two newest did most of the claim on her.”

Arthur Brown gritted his teeth. He looked at Steph, and Steph… well, she shrunk back against her father. Parents are supposed to protect their children, right? Well, she’d very much like protecting right about now.

Much to her delight, one of her father’s wings folded to wrap itself around her, almost completely hiding her from view.

“Is that a problem?” Batman said, smiling.

There was a beat of hesitation among the humans. They were weaponless and trapped. It would do them well to give up.

But Arthur had no intentions of doing so: “Obviously it’s going to be a problem! You can’t keep stealing our kids!”

Her father’s expression darkened. “You humans will do anything to keep me from 'stealing your kids'. You will erect an iron fence to try to keep us out. You will arm your children with weapons. You will come here to kill us. You will do anything but actually take care of your kids.”

They began to count off on their fingers: “Left to grieve alone. Able to sneak out every night for months without being noticed. Abused and allowed to starve. Forced to kill. The two most recent, the ones you are all so up and arms about me taking: left alone for months on end and stunted because you were all scared of his curiosity. And the one with me now? Abused to the point where she chose to help a faerie instead of her own father — well, her ex-father.”

The words ‘that is my title now’ were left unsaid, but everyone heard it.

The clearing was remarkably quiet. Uncomfortably so.

Other than the Drakes, who began to protest, only to be cut off.

“Do not speak,” the faerie hissed, eyes strikingly dark as they landed on the two Drakes. “I am doing you a favor by not revealing what you did to that boy. I do not care that you were terrified at the prospect of losing a child you hardly ever saw anyways, I do not care that you were grieving preemptively despite the fact that you might have been allowed to see him from time to time if you had given my reason to trust you. Which, knowing the extreme lengths you are willing to go to, I do not. What you did was… unspeakable.”

And then his lips twitched into a smile. But it wasn’t warm. No, goosebumps rose upon her skin. Even the warm faerie draped around her and the too-hot necklace still looped around her neck did little to stave off the chill.

“Unspeakable… a fitting punishment for people who only use their words to harm, yes?”

Jack Drake opened his mouth to protest but found nothing would come out. Janet’s eyes bugged out of her head as she tried to scream, and yet all that she managed was a pitiful squeak.

Everyone around them backed away, as if scared the curse might be contagious. As if they thought that openly associating with the pair in any way might doom them as well.

But they already were a part of this mess, and there was no escaping the wrath of a vengeful faerie.

“As for the rest of you, if you all insist on continuing to mistreat your children, and won’t even let me stay here to pick up your slack… well, then, I don’t believe I should trust you to have any more children at all.”

Whether or not the people wanted to argue (which, admittedly, they likely did), they were quickly silenced.

Or, well, perhaps ‘silenced’ was not the correct word. They were not silent. They doubled over, screaming, hugging their stomachs.

Or, at least, that’s what Stephanie thought was happening. Her head felt like it had been filled with cotton, a pleasant buzzing in her ears where she should have heard the town folks' cries.

She could hear her father just fine, though:

“Treasure the children you have, for you will not be getting any more.”

The faerie lightened up consideringly. His eyes twinkled like miniature stars as he flashed a wink, pressing a finger to his lips.

“Haven’t you read that you should be careful what you wish for?”

[mistpodfics]

All fae-n and games: Faerie the hatchet written by oliviaandersonisntmyrealnamelol | @olivia-anderson-fanfic A Batman Podfic read by mistbornhero for pod-o-ween

Rule number 6: Do not, under any circumstances, make a deal with them. They will ALWAYS get the upper hand. It was the longest, and therefore likely the most important. The one that you were supposed to listen to. The one that, if nothing else, you should make sure to follow. This had been defaced. Or: Fae!Bruce is lonely, but then a newly orphaned boy stumbles into his clearing asking for a deal. It’s Free Son.

Podfic Length: 01:02:31 hours

🎃👻spoooky/halloweeny playlist:🔮tumblr🔮neocities🔮 👻🎃

[yourlittlebunnyy]

fawn -tamlin x reader

masterlist

summary: Y/n is the youngest Archeron sister. The Cauldon trasforms her into a fairy, and there's only one certain thing in her life: she doesn't belong in the Night Court.

warnings: slightly suggestive, Tamlin (haters step back🙏🤺)

wc: 5,5k

enjoy😉

The Cauldron made you a fairy. A fairy. You scoff at the thought. Nesta has become death itself, Elain a seer. You a stupid, little, useless fairy.

That day, when Fae warriors came into your and your sisters' home and forced you into that place, you never thought you would end up with pearl-colored wings and be able to talk to flowers.

You've always been shy, you've always made yourself small in front of others, and when they threw you into that pile of magic, the Cauldron was generous, in the telling of your sister's lover.

"You went in last. It could have given you nothing, as it could have killed you, but it gave you wings. And flowers, plants, and everything a fairy possesses. You shouldn't pout." But you never asked for that.

When they pulled you out everyone's eyes were on you. How could they not? They had never seen such a thing. Sure, the Cauldron could turn a mortal into a Fae, but a fairy?

You didn't look anyone in the face that day, or the weeks that followed.

"I would like to learn to fly," you once said to Azriel. He replied that he could not teach you, that the fairies belonged to the Court of Spring and that even there they were so rare and secretive that no one knew anything about them.

"But you have wings, too. You just need to teach me how to move them. Please."

Azriel shook his head, a neutral expression on his face.

"I can't. Besides helping you support its weight, your wings are shaped differently from mine, they are smaller and more fragile. I cannot put your life in danger." The authoritative tone makes it clear that the conversation is over. You would have hoped to find a friend in him. Instead, every time you try to talk to him, his gaze has only coldness to offer. Perhaps all his warmth-which doesn't seem much to you at this point-is reserved for Elain.

So, for you, the days go on with no clear meaning. You are not allowed to leave the house, and you can only afford to observe Velaris, such a beautiful city and full of life, from the balcony of the house.

When Feyre returns, you thought for a moment that things would finally change. That she would convince someone to help you get to know your new form, your new being. But you were okay, sure, you were a little confused, but you were living. Elain was much sicker, and all your sisters' priorities belonged to her.

You found comfort in Lucien instead. A charming, red-haired Fae who had lived in the Spring Court for years. That's how you became friends: no one would take you into consideration, and you were desperate for some information, some help. And Lucien fortunately seemed to have answers to your questions.

"I remember you. That day, I mean." You and Lucien are playing chess. It is rare that you talk about that day, but sometimes it happens. You don't care much, talking about it with him has helped you in the past, "Actually, I don't remember much. I remember what Tamlin reminded me of."

Now that's new. Never once had the Fae told her about his High Lord turning his back on her sister. She knew something about it, but she didn't know the whole story.

"Did Tamlin recall to you about that day?" She asks a little incredulously. Lucien nods and tightens his lips, makes a move with a chessman, and a feline smile lights up his face.

"I think...," he freezes for a moment, as if to think carefully about his next words, "he's playing some kind of double game, with Hybern. To get information. He's a good male, only sometimes he struggles to show it."

You feel a twinge in your heart. You don't know why, you should be furious with the man who took your life to give you this. The man who hurt Feyre so deeply. But the way Lucien talks about it, with so much regret....

You are sitting on the armchair in your room, already wearing your nightwear. You have a book in your hands and are completely immersed in reading, so much that you don't hear someone's footsteps outside your door. You gasp when they knock. You place the book in the small coffee table, and you don't bother to fix yourself: Lucien had told you he would come by and deliver a few things before he leaves Velaris for good. You get sad at the thought.

When you open the door you find not the familiar face, but Feyre's.

"Hey." She greets you. You return the greeting and wait for her to tell you why she is here. Although your new life started off on the wrong foot, feeling ignored by your family and useless, everything healed over time. Now the relationship between you and Feyre is closer than ever, Nesta is doing well, Elain is working on it. You have also learned to accept your sister's Fae friends. You even talk to them from time to time.

"I'm sad that Lucien is leaving. Especially for you" You nod, you know there is something else she is not telling you, "You know how much I told you about the High Lords meeting? I'd like you to come too, if you feel like it." You don't hesitate when you say yes. Your sister told you that not everyone had confirmed their attendance, of whom Tamlin. And she did not tell you about what happened with him. But something inside you urges you to go and meet him. It's for my being, you think, I just want answers, that's why I'm so impatient.

That night you struggle to sleep. At dawn you stop tossing and turning in bed and start getting ready, by now you give up: you won't rest that night anyway.

"You look wonderful" Feyre's words make you smile. She takes Azriel's hand, and in the blink of an eye they transmute into the palace of the Court of Dawn.

After greeting the others politely, you realize that Tamlin is not coming. You do not understand the reason for the disappointment you feel. Perhaps it is even better, so you avoid any awkward situation that might arise with your sister and Rhysand.

The meeting begins, and it is just as you start to disassociate yourself from the High Lords' boring talk that Tamlin appears.

He is alone. You don't remember him from that day in the Cauldron. But he is as you always imagined him. His blond hair reaches a little below his shoulders, clearly unkempt. His green eyes remind you of the blossoming plains. His skin tone is a rosy tint, his facial features delicate, almost princely. He is the very definition of spring, you think. He is a beautiful man, and you understand why his sister was once in love with him.

The silence in the air is tense. Tamlin looks at each person and takes his time with each one. And when he gets to you -- you feel his gaze run through your body, but you ignore him. You make a mistake, though. You look up too soon and meet his eyes. And now the thing is clear as day to you, what you feel in the center of your chest.

A bond.

Tamlin is your mate.

His expression turns surprised, his lips tight and his jaw contracted. He doesn't say anything. He moves on to the next person as if he hadn't heard it himself. But you can't contain yourself, and before you can stop it, a gasp escapes your mouth and tears cloud your eyes. You back away, stumbling back in your chair.

"Are you all right?" Feyre asks you, visibly concerned. You do not answer, but it is Beron, High Lord of the Court of Autumn, Tamlin's friend, who answers for you.

"A bond." He says simply, his tone both haughty and amused. Feyre sniffs the air, looks at you. Then she looks at Tamlin. And then back at you again. The look in his eyes... Rhysand says something, but everything around you is a blur.

First the Cauldron made you a useless fairy. Next the Mother punished you by tying you to Tamlin.

You listen to no one, with hurried steps you leave the room. No one follows you. Good, you think, I don't have to explain myself to anyone for a while.

With one exception, someone has followed you. Your body recognizes him before you do, your heart beats wildly, and you could cry from how wrong this all simply is. Your sister was going to marry this man. And she didn't, she ran away because he did something terrible to her, and now it was going to be your turn.

You stop in the middle of the hallway, and Tamlin grabs your arm gently, leading you into a small room. You try to ignore how such a soft touch puts a pleasant twinge in your stomach. No, you would never do that to your sister.

When you enter, no one says anything for a while and you feel his gaze on you, making you blush. He doesn't even know your name, probably.

As if he hears your thoughts, the Fae speaks to you. "Y/n." His serious tone makes you set your eyes on his. This is so wrong, yet looking at your mate feels like the right thing to do.

"How-how do you know my name?"

Tamlin smiles at your words. An expression so different from the one you saw on his face when he first walked in. It fits him, you think, and fear invades your senses because of the things you realize you would do, because of that smile...

"I remember it ... from that day, with the Cauldron..." Your body stiffens, as if remembering who the male in front of you really is. What he did to you. What he has done to your family.

It doesn't matter that he is your mate, you think. Your body may react to his look and touch, but you will not be betrayed by it.

Tamlin probably feels your emotions through the bond, and with a step forward he grabs your arm gently. He needs to touch you, and you don't realize how much you needed him to touch you, too. You welcome his warmth without fighting back.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I'm not just saying this because you are my mate, " Both of you seem to feel satisfaction when he says such words, the bond in your chest seems to glow and sing "I... had to do terrible things to protect my court. To protect Prythian. It was not in the plan to do such a thing to you."

You think about his words, his eyes shining with sincerity. Lucien has told you things that would explain Tamlin's words, that actually make him a good male.

"Tamlin." To the sound of his name on your lips, the man suppresses a growl. "I... Lucien has been telling me things. And I believe you, and I believe you are good male. But the thing with my sister..."

The look in the Fae's eyes becomes embarrassed, and the emotions you feel through the bond are a mixture of shame and remorse. You don't know what happened between the two, but it must have been really difficult if it causes him such a reaction.

"I regret how I behaved. What I did. I was broken, as was she, and I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to protect her, and to this day I realize my mistakes."

You study his face. You find nothing but honesty and pure feelings, and he is really putting your instincts to the test. He's so handsome that you want to jump on him, but on the other side of the coin-you still don't know if you can trust him. But he's your mate, and he deserves at least a chance. There's such a battle inside your head.

"I forgive you. For the Cauldron, I mean. I don't know if she has forgiven you, or will but..." Your hand moves to his where he still holds your arm, both of you smiling. "I think you deserve a second chance, Tamlin. And I -- I'd like to try."

The smile he gives you, so genuine that it makes his eyes sparkle with brightness, makes you realize deep down that you made the right choice.

You have not made the right choice.

Neither you nor Tamlin ever returned to the meeting.

When you see your sister and the Inner Circle again, they are all furious with you. As if you chose the bond. You scoff at their looks.

"You disappeared all day with Tamlin. Do you realize that? What was I supposed to think you were doing with your mate, huh? Do you realize who we're talking about?" Rhysand yells at you. Feyre, who does not look angry but grieved, lays a hand on his arm, and after what seems like a brief mental conversation, the High Lord comes out with one last murderous look directed at you. Tears sting your eyes.

"Y/n, he didn't mean to be so mean, it's just that they have so many unfinished business..."

"What about you? What unfinished business do you have with him? Why do you all hate him here? And I'm not talking about the alliance with Hybern."

"None, Y/n. I have none. I have had my revenge. In all sincerity I wish him the best. And I want the best for you, too. So if you-if you've talked to him and he seems to-you seem to like him I won't have anything against you, or him, if you accept the bond." Saying these words seems like a great effort for her, but you appreciate it very much. Mor grimaces.

"No one? That male locked you up - no, he let you drown locked up inside his house. Don't you remember what condition I found you in? Well, in case you don't remember, I'll remind you, Y/n. That male after she was turned into a Fae locked her up in a room, denied her every single space of freedom until she went crazy and we rescued her. So don't-"

"Enough, Mor." Feyre says annoyed.

"You want the best for your sister, and you send her into Tamlin's arms without warning her what he would do to her?"

You are speechless. Tears wet your cheeks.

"But he told me-he told me he regretted it. That he was just as broken as you and that he just wanted to protect you..."

"Those are just words, Y/n. But in actions--what do you think is keeping him from doing the same thing to you? We will have no right to rescue you and bring you back here, because you are in fact his. Think carefully about what you want to do with such an individual." And with these words, Mor leaves the room, leaving you whimpering and afraid. Feyre approaches you and wraps you in a hug.

"Everything will be all right. I know you are afraid, honey. You just try, never stop trying, okay? You don't have to accept the bond right away. Even when you move in with him, if you decide to, you can wait and see if it's worth it. And in case it's not worth it, you can always come back as a free woman."

"I thought you hated him."

"No. Everyone deserves happiness, honey."

Before you can even consider your sister's words, war breaks out. Tamlin takes Hybern's side, but as you expected, it actually turns out to be all a double-cross.

You can feel his emotions through the bond, and you know he can feel yours, too. Sometimes your dreams come together and you are able to talk. If you were uncertain about trying before, now you are convinced.

Once you even woke up in the middle of the night. The bond in your chest overflowing with emotion - lust. Excitement. Pleasure. It didn't take long to realize that your mate was pleasuring himself. Just the thought of it was able to make you damp between your legs, and you discreetly slipped a hand under the sheets and touched yourself fantasizing Tamlin in front of you, rubbing his hard cock with one hand, while his eyes were fixed on yours. You reached your climax in the same moment he did, and you could have sworn you heard his laughter on the other side of the bond.

It was also the first time you tried to touch that bond, pulling on that sort of golden thread that connects the two of you. Tamlin responded by doing the same, and when you went back to sleep, you fell asleep with a smile. That night you dreamed about how your mate taught you how to fly.

The next day you were not able to look anyone in the face, though.

But that was a long time ago.

Now you are not in the comforting warmth of your bed. You are in a tent in a war camp and you are freezing. Your body shakes as you try to rub your hands together. Your wings are sore and have taken on a worrying purple tint, you are almost tempted to go to some healer's tent and ask for an extra blanket, but surely they would be full of injured people, and they would need it much more than you do.

A wave of warmth through the bond radiates through you, and you are grateful to have Tamlin right now, but it doesn't stop there. He touches the bond, like he did all those nights ago, and you find yourself out of your sleeping bag, but not to go to the healers. You meet no one as you head to the Spring Court camps. Your heart pounds - you haven't seen Tamlin since that day at the High Lords meeting. A slight blush covers your cheeks. How will you look that charming male in the face after what you did that night?

You don't know which tent is his, but your body seems to know. The bond takes you straight to him. You can smell him - citrus and spice - even before you see him. You enter without even knocking or warning of your presence, aware that he is able to feel your closeness just as you are able to feel his.

"I've been waiting for you." The male offers you a mesmerizing smile. He is different from how you had seen him. He has cut his hair, and it now reaches just below his ears. He no longer has such dark circles under his eyes and looks decades younger. He is now the living definition of spring more than ever. The mere sight of the man could bring you to your knees.

"Hey." You greet him softly, still a little embarrassed. He notices, because his smile now turns feline. You're my little prey and I want to play with you, he seems to say. Only now do you notice a pungent note in his scent - blood. Your worry fills the bond. Yet you have felt no pain through it lately.

He seems to sense the direction of your thoughts, because he shifts his gaze from your figure to his chest. That's where he bleeds. He has been wounded in the chest.

"Tamlin... You're bleeding." He nods, then offers you a reassuring look.

"Oh, don't worry, it's just a little scratch. You, on the other hand, looked very cold earlier." He cannot hide his concern.

"It's already better here, much warmer." You still feel the tips of your wings sore, though.

"To get to such a situation you must have been freezing for a long time, Y/n. Didn't they teach you how to take care of your wings in this situation?"

"Not really-I tried to ask, but I never got an answer." The anger on his face is impossible to mask. He takes a couple of deep breaths before speaking again.

"'Brute bastards." He hisses through his teeth. You feel in awe at his words; they are still your sisters' family.

"Tamlin..."

"No, Y/n. I'm fine, but you...fairy wings are different from Illyrian wings. They should have done some fucking research. You could have lost them, and do you know how painful that is? You could still be losing them." He finally realizes, and jerks around to get his blanket from his sleeping bag. It's thick and woolen, and as he wraps it around you, it smells of him in the best way.

"You're taking care of me." He looks at you surprised.

"Of course I'm taking care of you, Y/n."

"I want to take care of you, too. These days I've treated the cuts of the wounded, I can help you." Tamlin lets out a low growl, then shakes his head. He sits you down on his sleeping bag and positions himself next to you. Shoulder to shoulder. Even this small contact, divided by several layers of fabric, is capable of making your heart race.

"Please, mate. Let me take care of you." Tamlin sighs, then murmurs an unenthusiastic consent. You get up with the blanket still tangled around you, leave the tent without a word, and return a few minutes later with gauze, alcohol, and a clean bandage. You freeze in the doorway when you realize the man has taken off his shirt.

A shirtless male body was no stranger to you. You had often accompanied your sisters to see their males working out. You had gotten to appreciate the muscles. But Tamlin... seeing your semi-nude mate activates something in you, something similar to that night when you came with his name on your lips. You blush and approach slowly, he still has his back to you, as if he didn't hear you come in.

"Didn't they tell you it's rude to stare?" You know he's only joking, yet you still get embarrassed. Yes, you are used to a shirtless male. But to a shirtless male flirting with you? Absolutely not.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself, but the thing that cools your blood is the wound you see ripping through his chest as he turns around. You look at him surprised, anguish and disquiet flow freely through the bond.

"It's nothing, Y/n. I'll live." You find it ironic how he is the injured one, yet you are the one being comforted. You approach in silence, your eyes fixed on the injury, and let him rest his back on the sleeping bag. You kneel beside him, the blanket now forgotten on the ground, and soak the gauze with alcohol.

"Put the blanket back on, Y/n. It's cold." You ignore him, focused on wetting every last millimeter of the fabric. Tamlin is about to get up, but you place a hand on his chest, blocking him. The contact with his warm skin makes your cheeks warm, but the blood on his chest freezes them.

"What is it?"

"The blanket. Put it on."

"No, I'll be uncomfortable while I medicate you." Tamlin growls when you answer him. You snort a laugh, protective males. "Do you find my worry funny, fawn?"

"Fawn?" You startle at the nickname.

"Don't change the subject, put it on."

"But I'm uncomfortable, Tam."

"Then sit on my lap and wrap it around both of us." You don't let him tell you twice. You do as he says and start dressing his wound, which reeks of Faebane. That's why it didn't heal. You notice Tamlin clenching his teeth from the burning and as if on instinct, you reach down to kiss his chest above the wound. At the level of his heart. You both smile, but do not utter a word. When you finish bandaging his cut, you give him another gentle kiss, this time over the bandage.

"So you heal sooner and feel better." You smile at him.

"You are such a little fairy."

"Is that an insult?"

"No, fawn, how could I ever."

You don't converse much longer, the fatigue of battle preventing you from doing so. You get off his lap and lie down beside him on top of the sleeping bag. You remove the blanket and he seems to inspect your wings. A satisfied expression appears on his face and without needing a word, you remove the blanket and use it to cover yourselves. Just five minutes, you think, then I go back to my tent or I'll risk worrying my sisters.

Five minutes turns into the whole night.

When you wake up, Tamlin is not there. You are under the sleeping bag, though. You smile at the thought. His side is cold, and you wonder how long you slept for. You get up and stretch, and take some time to poke around his tent, something you didn't do the night before. There isn't much there, but you were expecting it. You find a blanket with a note.

Take care of your wings.

You smile like a little girl under her Christmas tree. You leave the blanket there, but take his instead. It smells like him.

A little alarm bell rings in your head. Oh, God. Your sisters must be worried sick. You quickly grab your new blanket and run through the camps until you get to your tent. God, why did they put the Night Court and the Spring Court at opposite ends? It's an almost 10-minute walk.

You enter your tent panting where you find a very, very worried Feyre.

"Are you crazy! Where have you been!" She shouts without even looking at you. But then she does. She smells Tamlin's familiar scent on you. His blanket in your hands.

"Feyre...I can explain, I swear-" She turns a mocking smile on you.

"Ooookay. Maybe next time you warn before you leave. You gave us a scare!" She says without even time for you to respond, leaving you standing in the middle of your tent like a fool.

You and Tamlin have a kind of unwritten agreement. In the evening he pulls the bond slightly and you join him in his tent. The Inner Circle knows this, but says nothing about it. It's better that way. Once Nesta even came to call you, making Tamlin chuckle and you die of embarrassment.

He never tried to do anything more than cuddle you. And you are fine with that. You don't want your first time with your mate to be in a war camp, on a sleeping bag, with the screams of the wounded in the background. One time he even took you to the top of a hill and you stayed and watched the stars until dawn, then he had to go back to fighting, and you had to go back to helping the healers.

You are afraid to admit it to yourself, but you are falling in love with that wonderful man. And you are afraid of not knowing what will happen once the war is over.

The fear of not knowing doesn't last long, though. Because the war is over. Hybern has died by the hands of your sisters, and Rhys has even died and risen again. You meet Tamlin as the camps are being shown.

"Hey, fawn." He says, smiling at you.

"Hey, Tam." You return his smile, but a motion of sadness contorts your lips into a grimace. Tears are quick to stream down your face. You don't want to cry in front of everyone. Tamlin seems to understand this, because he grabs your arm and within moments you are on the hill where he took you to see the stars a few nights ago.

"It's nothing, it's just ... I don't want us to be apart." Tamlin can swear he feels his heart break and recompose itself at the same time at your words, at your tone. At the emotions you are sharing with him.

"Neither do I, y/n. Neither do I."

Tamlin kisses you. It's sudden and unexpected. It is not a real kiss: he simply lays his lips on yours. His hands caress your face gently. After a few moments, you relax and respond to the kiss with just as much sweetness. Just as much love.

"Come home with me, Y/n. Come stay with me at the Spring Court." You think about his words. The words of the male you are in love with, your mate. Your heart tightens with happiness at those words. You will think of your sisters later: for now you just want to be in Tamlin's arms.

"Yes."

Communicating this to Feyre was easier than expected, and since you had nothing significant in Velaris, you went straight home with Tamlin.

The Spring Court is... beautiful, breath-taking even. You can't hide the warmth in your chest, the feeling of home it communicates. And seeing your mate in the place where he belongs enhances the experience.

It is warmer than the dry cold of the camps, and you begin to sweat under the layers of heavy clothing. Tamlin notices, and invites you to follow him inside his palace until you reach a bedroom.

You take time to look around. The house seems full of life, smells of flowers and nature, and glows with gold. It is different from what you expected: Rhysand had mentioned, years ago, that he had paid a visit to the High Lord of the Spring Court, and found him in a miserable condition. And like him, so was his house. But to you that sounds like a far definition from reality.

The room he takes you to is beautiful. It is very different from the typical ones in the Night Court. There the wood is dark, the floors are rough, and everything looks like it's been through a battle. They're not ugly, they're just - gloomy.

While the Court of Spring is full of light and warm colors. The bed frame is made of a light, delicate wood and is carved with flowers and leaves. The room does not have much besides the well-prepared bed. There is a closet that echoes the pattern of the headboard, and Tamlin heads straight there.

He opens it, revealing a surprising amount of clothing.

"You can choose whatever you like, I'll wait outside." He smiles at you and you smile back.

You leave the room wearing a new dress. It is the one you liked most. It makes you feel like a fairy, but positively. It is definitely better than what you wear in the Court of Night. The fabric is softer, the pinkish white of the skirt is a color you've never seen before but already love. Tamlin's face lights up as soon as he sees you.

"You look beautiful in my Court clothes, Y/n." Your cheeks take on a rosy hue as you whisper a vague thanks. He holds out his hand to you and you immediately take it. Without a word, he begins to drag you through the corridors you admire all the way to outside. Into the gardens.

As soon as your eyes meet such beauty ... your breath catches in your throat. Your mind immediately wanders to your sister, Elain. How she would love it.

Your mate looks at you smugly.

"Do you like it?" You can do nothing but nod. Tears well up in your eyes at the relief you feel, and you realize you have lifted a burden, the opression of the Night Court.

The words come out of your mouth before you can even think them, let alone stop them, "I want to accept the bond."

Tamlin looks surprised. "What?"

"I-obviously if you want to. But-"

Your mate interrupts by kissing you. You are surprised the first few moments, but you quickly recover, responding to the kiss. The bond in the center of your chest seems to sing with joy.

"Now?" He asks when he pulls away from your lips, a gentle blush covers his cheeks and he is short of breath. He has never looked so good. You nod.

"A little further on there are some fruit trees. If you want we can go there."

You nod, and he takes you by the hand, fingers interlocked with yours, and once again leads you to some fruit trees. You take the opportunity to admire the beauty of his court again. Which will now become yours as well.

You stop in front of a loquat tree. In a comforting silence you turn to pick a fruit. You have nothing with you, and you struggle a little to peel it. You split it in half and offer it directly in front of his lips. He bites into the loquat with his eyes on yours. He finishes the whole fruit.

The bond seems to rejoice and shine and seems to unite your two souls even more than before. His gaze communicates to you that you have a long day ahead. A long night, too.

He kisses you fervently, his hands gripping your hips making you moan in the kiss. You didn't expect to feel this way. Sure, your sisters told you something about the frenzy ... but experiencing it firsthand is something else entirely. The intensity of what you feel is almost overwhelming.

You pull away from the kiss with a heavy breath. Tamlin's predatory gaze, the lust in the look, is impossible to mask.

"Fawn... tell me no now, or I won't be able to stop later." You don't even think about saying no. You desire him as you have never desired anyone. You want to feel him all over.

"Please, Tamlin. I want to be yours."

You spend all afternoon making love on the fields, careless of who might see you. You return only when it begins to get dark. A huge smile on your face.

You made the right choice.

@rcarbo1

[brights-place]

Can I request the reader who is Lilia's adopted child (and by extension, Malleus and Silver's sister) and family get-togethers? Where they sit together and play games or drink tea. To clarify, my reader is shy and affectionate and loves his family very much. If you like the idea and post it, thanks in advance!

[TWST] Diasomnia & Lilia's Child!Reader Warnings: Fluff, Fights, Shouting, a pillow being chucked at malleus is face A/N: Are you there goddd? It's me fionaaa IT'S ME FIONAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (you when it comes to saving yourself from lilia's cooking

Summary: As Lilia’s shy yet affectionate adopted child, the reader cherishes every quiet moment spent with their eccentric little family. Whether it's cozy tea times with Silver, playful banter with Malleus, or bonding games arranged by Lilia himself, these rare family gatherings are filled with warmth, laughter, and love. Despite their differences, they find peace simply being together—sharing small joys that mean everything.

- Being Lilia's acutal born child was fine being a fae child but also being the same age as your brother silver who was far away as brother by features you being fae and him being well human - Despite that you still called him your brother proudly with a big grin - Lilia Loves to surprise you with elaborate tea party themes sometimes historical, sometimes utterly ridiculous (like “vampire vs werewolf” tea night) He always makes your favorite snacks though... yeah that was the first time you got food poisoning and lilia would laugh patting

- He hums lullabies from Briar Valley while brushing your hair, calling you his “little batling,” no matter how old you are. - Has a secret photo album full of candid moments from your family hangouts and won’t hesitate to blackmail you all with them.

- You inherited Lilia’s sharp eyes and pointed ears, but not his chaotic energy he calls you his “soft little fae” and teases you for being the calm to his storm.

- Even though you’re shy, he’s always encouraging you to try new things. “Come on, batling! Life’s too long not to be a little dramatic!”

- When you're feeling anxious, Lilia wraps you in his cape and hums old fae melodies. It’s like being protected by a spell made of love.

- He teaches you ancient magic, but his lessons are often interrupted by him telling embarrassing stories about Malleus or Silver.

- Despite his jokes, Lilia is fiercely protective of you. Anyone who makes you uncomfortable will be on the receiving end of his silent, dangerous glare. - Silver as your brother is always instinctively positions himself between you and strangers. He doesn’t say much, but his presence is solid and reassuring.

- When you get nervous in crowds or at school events, Silver gently pats your head or offers his hand for you to hold.

- You two share a special understanding no need for many words. Sometimes, you sit in peaceful silence under a tree together, just enjoying each other's company.

- You once gifted him a small charm to help with his sleeping issues. He treasures it and always keeps it tied to his sword hilt. - Even though you’re both the same age, he treats you with quiet, older-brother care. “You don’t have to be strong all the time,” he says when you cry.

- You insist on brushing his hair sometimes because he forgets, and he lets you even if he falls asleep halfway through.

- Silver he falls asleep mid-game during family game night, and you always gently cover him with a blanket. When he wakes up, you’re usually leaning against him, half-asleep too.

- Silver often trains alone, but he lights up when you ask to join him. He adjusts his style to make sure you’re safe and have fun.

- Despite being human, he never feels out of place next to you. You’re the first to proudly introduce him as your “big brother,” even if you're technically the same age.

- For malleus he treasures your presence deeply and is weirdly serious about tea time. He insists on preparing the tea himself and gets adorably flustered if you compliment it.

- He brings you little trinkets from his royal outings rare flowers, shiny stones, or enchanted keepsakes and beams when you keep them in your room.

- Though stoic, he softens when you cling to his sleeve or lean into his side. He allows it without question and will quietly shift closer to make sure you're comfortable. - Uno, chess, and weird fae card games are common Lilia teaches the rules, but cheats terribly. Everyone pretends not to notice.

- Your shy nature means you often sit between Silver and Malleus for comfort

- There’s a shared blanket that all four of you end up tangled in by the end of movie night. No one dares move first until Lilia says he baked sweets and drops them onto the table then it's survival of the fittest - Cue you screaming and chucking the pillow you were sitting on at malleus is face, arm pushing silver away, and running out of the room with silver and malleus following suite with Lilia cackling and chasing after you three with thunder crashing outside the windows with Malleus side eyeing you for the fact you chucked a pillow at him.

- But hey when it comes to your brothers you love them but you would sacrifice them before eating Lilia’s food ever

[kefiteria]

I loved loved your “if I kneel” story about sebek, I would love to see your take on Lilia if you ever feel like writing for him ☺️💞💚🙏

pairing : Lilia Vanrouge x Reader

summary: You made a bet with Lilia Vanrouge: if he lost, he’d stop flirting. If you lost? You’d have to flirt back. Well. Guess who’s now spiraling in slow-motion while attempting seductive eye contact and forgetting how sentences work. He’s smug, you’re doomed, and this is what you get for challenging a centuries-old fae at his own game.

a/n: Lilia is easily in my top 3 favorites 😩🙏🏻 so this piece is really me indulging in his flavor of charm for once — softer, smugger, dangerously sweet. A little different from my usual existential dread writings🌀 If you enjoyed the fluster, the tension, the barely-contained chaos~ let me know! 🍀 Thank you so much for requesting and enjoying my writing💖

“Go ahead. Say that I’m crazy. Because isn’t that what you’ve made me? And you—” Lilia’s voice curved like smoke through the hollow between your ribs.

“You’re crazy too.” His smile, wide and unrepentant, was sharper than anything Raskolnikov would dare to confess.

Before you could recoil, he had already pushed you — gently, politely, irreversibly — down onto the ancient stone bench lining the corridor.

A hallway. Open. Daylight humming like static against the stained-glass. A place where moments like this should unravel into nothing.

But they never do, with him.

You tried to make your voice a wall, a line of marble between heart and hazard.

“I don’t think this falls under the terms of our agreement, Vice Housewarden Lilia.”

The formality was a mask, suffocating, and flimsy. You clung to it like a prayer, or a blade — a distance you could press between your chest and his centuries.

Lilia only tilted his head, almost sympathetically, eyes glinting like a cathedral set on fire.

“You keep lobbing distance at me, dear.” he said, voice low, intimate in its tiredness.

“You've been talking all the nonsense, and maybe neither one of us should talk anymore?”

There was no mockery in it—not precisely. Merely the soft, baroque ache of a man who had learned to dress his loneliness in lace and laughter; who remembered centuries too vividly and was, in turn, remembered too dimly.

When he leaned closer, the fabric of his coat made a noise like leaves whispering secrets to the wind—secrets only the old and the unloved would understand.

“Go on. Say it again. That I’m crazy.”

The words curled around your spine like an incantation. A dare. A descent.

“Vice Housewarden Lilia.” you breathed, too soft to scold, too loud to pretend.

“If you keep behaving like this, people will talk. This is a hallway. A public one—”

You didn’t finish. The words slipped, blurred at the edges like ink in water, and your tongue—once yours—sat heavy, useless in your mouth. Everything felt slow, steeped in something golden and wrong.

The only thing louder than your heartbeat was the hush of his breathing—or rather, the lack of it. He didn’t move. He didn’t even blink. In that stillness, you felt yourself unraveling softly, like silk torn under candlelight.

“Ah~” he murmured, almost tenderly, “there it is. Your voice when you’re lying to yourself.”

As you blinked, he went closer again — not in distance, but in density. Like gravity. Like regret.

“Where is your end of the deal, starlight? You lost.” he said, with the kindness of a man reciting a eulogy.

“I thought mortals glorified their oaths. Or… is it because I’m no knight, and you think my promises are made to be broken?”

His lips hovered near the shell of your ear—not quite a kiss, not quite mercy. Just the phantom hush of skin remembering what it has never been given. You felt it anyway. Felt it like a sin prayed too sweetly: his breath tracing a line down your neck like a ghost leaving fingerprints you’d deny in daylight.

Because you’d promised because you had looked him in the eye and wrapped your pride in oaths too fragile to keep—

You let the lie fall.

Not in anger. Not in surrender.

But like the first snow on a grave. Soft. Inevitable.

“Fine.” you said in surrender paired with a voice crystalline, trembling, absurd.

“Would you rather I call you my liege… or my sin?”

Lilia stilled, the motion caught somewhere between a sigh and a shudder.

The smile that lingered was no longer a jest but a fragile relic, folding inward like a moth’s wing pressed beneath a glass—the delicate architecture of centuries collapsing in slow, deliberate surrender.

His eyes widened, not with surprise, but with the slow, mournful clarity of a man submerged in thick honeyed fog, as if he had been waiting through countless seasons—through winter’s cruelty and summer’s forgetfulness—for a single, trembling syllable to fall exactly like that.

Between the shallow tides of breath and silence, the air thickened, saturated with the weight of unspoken eons, a fragile tension spun from threads of smoke and old, unspent desire, pressing against your skin like a secret too tender to bear.

“Mmm…” he exhaled slowly, voice dusted in awe.

“Why not both?”

He stepped back—just far enough to keep you breathing, just close enough to make your chest ache like a wound left open.

“Careful now.” he said, his voice suddenly bare and steady, like a secret carved into stone.

“Flirt with me like that again, and I might start hoping you meant it.”

Then he turned—slick as midnight, a slow, satisfied smile curling at the corners of his lips as he walked away.

Under his breath, just loud enough for the shadows to catch it, he murmured:

“You keep throwing stones, sweetheart — like you’re trying to chase me off. But I don’t mind. I’ve got all the time in the world to throw them back."

"If this is a game, then play it. But don’t blame me when you start to like losing.”

His gloved hands adjusted, deliberate and calm, like the calm before a storm you’re desperate to dive into—and desperate to escape.

Left standing there, your heartbeat pounding in wild rebellion, the echo of a bet you never truly lost twisting tighter around your ribs.

And damn if it doesn’t feel like the first page of a story neither of you are ready to end.

[elenauaurs]

TWISTED WONDERLAND OC

Diaval bio again hehehhee

Name: Diaval Corvo

Grade: Junior

Age: 167

Height: 1,70

Homeland: Briar Valley

Club: Board game

Best subject: Mathematics/History of magic

Hobbie: Studies on ancient writings

Pet Peeves: DOGS.

Favorite Food: Soup

Least Favorite Food: N/A

Birthday: November 3rd

Talent: Mapping (Before Book 7) - Drawing (after Book 7)

Personality

By his peers, Diaval is often considered a reserved and mysterious person, especially because of the circumstance of being one of the closest people to the Housewarden of Diasomnia. Despite this reputation, Diaval proves himself to be a caring individual and a good person to talk to, should the subject interest him.

In his own way, he has a habit of guiding people when necessary and, lately, he has been gaining a better reputation and maintaining a good relationship with his classmates. However, despite maintaining a calm and helpful demeanor towards others, Diaval can be quite proud if mocked or challenged, as well as having confidence in his own abilities.

Diaval is a good strategist, preferring to analyze a situation behind the scenes first before taking action. With this in mind, it's not too surprising that he often prefers to analyze the people around him before deciding whether or not an interaction would be beneficial for him, as well as he can also be considered a great resource to find 🫣gossip🫣 about NRC.

He can be quite vengeful, as well as quick to return a just favor. Very remorseful with people he doesn't like or who have done him wrong, but also do everything for those he holds dear. In fact, despite appearing to be logical most of the time, Diaval can be really emotional, especially with people he loves or when he feels vulnerable…

and REALLY restless when something he does goes wrong

Overall, Diaval is observant, introvert and sometimes reserved. However, he also has an ease in communicating with the people around him and is being seen interacting much more with his colleagues lately. Diaval also has difficulty talking about things that affect him, but he can show himself to be a good person to talk to and a great friend, even assuming a responsible attitude for those who need.

And he's also a big worrier for his friends.

Trivia

• He's twisted from Diablo and Diaval (Sleeping beauty and Maleficent)

• Diaval is a personal servant of Malleus, acquiring the title of The Princes’ wings in Briar Valley.

• What's the story behind his eyepatch? Ask him all you want, but the only guarantee you'll get is that he'll make up a new story every time.

• He’s a crow/raven fae

• Diaval's eyes are very sharp, being the sense he most rely on. As they say, nothing escapes his gaze.

• He’s always very well informed about what’s happening around Campus, definitely a great investigator who loves gossip.

• He doesn't like participating in swimming lessons. According to him, his wings are too heavy to swim properly.

• When it comes to food, Diaval eats absolutely everything. Lilia's food included.

• Diaval LOVES shiny things, and also enjoys giving gifts to make up for favors he has received.

• He doesn't lacks self-control, but depending on the situation, Diaval can be REALLY quite competitive.

@cyanide-latte @oya-oya-okay @theleechyskrunkly @thehollowwriter @distant-velleity @boopshoops @br3adtoasty @casp1an-sea @heyhellohihowareyou @tixdixl @sillyslipperybananapeel @cheerleaderman @revolllutionary @nyx-of-night @lumdays @skriblee-ksk @nemisisnemi @althea-and-alcestris @miyanaranagikenmal-intp @the-necromancer-wife @twistedwonderlandshenanigans