#but if something bothers them enough for that they'll just have to accept that what i do is none of their god damn business forever now

[slimyenemy]

like it was such a mess fr because she did that ghosting me thing after saying very vaguely who even knows what about me being evil who even knows when despite me being there for months at this point trying to be nice to her mostly not even failing due to the usual ever present horrors in case something bad did indeed happen before when i wasn't even there because how tf could i be and i reacted like ok if i just act really pathetic for a while now at least she won't be coming back to glue trap me again all feeling like she *really* doesn't care about anything why even would she then NOT according to plan felt noticed by fish and felt talked to and responded because sure why not she seems really cool with all the usual emotions that always look like stupid love bombing which it wasn't because love bombing is a manipulation tactic and i was just feeling things and saying everything i think as usual but i did tell her pretty much right away that if she doesn't want to talk i don't want to do anything but literally normal one sided follow her on twitter to which she responded with regular as hell rudeness and ignoring my boundaries and always wanting something from me and being rude about that too put me in a hostile environment weird situation with some weird people immediately so i just kept going like i love you sm my beautiful wife but can you please just STOP and exploding about it because math glue traps are freaking humiliating and scary af and she didn't listen and i was just like okayyyyyy and at some point thought i think that if this is how this is going i should probably say something to the other person because it might look kinda messed up to her and who knows if it might actually hurt her and i did love her A LOT and cared about her so i basically DID just explain wtf happened and apologized for being poly and still said that enough is enough and if i'm not talked to i don't want to do anything FR (and was actually kinda cute about it i think) because it was all insanely brainbreaking and took ten million amount of time from me already and then they unleashed the scam torture hell and fish already started trying to force something weird on me too who tf even knows why i never felt freaked out about anything more and it was all already weird and hostile and confusing in the worst way possible and freaking awful and me saying really freaking loud and clear no to fish things was just ignored very intensely every time and it just kept going and going and getting worse and worse until it turned into a freaking everything torture too and the rest is everything i talked about here recently as in just straight up nightmare and i have no freaking idea whatsoever about what the fuck is even wrong with them both anymore and can't even describe how the thought of being in some sort of relationship with either of them makes me feel and don't even get me started on the rest of the cult it's like genuinely the most atrocious gathering of seemingly okay at first glance people i've seen in my LIFE and now after spending a few extra months quite literally having to listen to nevermind even the usual weird ass hostility dehumanization and infantilization and random af headcanons about me being scary right wing dracula who will oh how sad inevitably end up living on the streets now but some completely freaking full of shit bullshit about how good of an idea corrective rape would be in my sad unsocialized snowflake (sorry for throwing tf up rn) case i think they should actually very lowkey very metaphorically be crushed into powder mixed with basil and thrown into tomato sauce for some pizza in other words get absolutely freaking cooked that's it no words

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in a Bottle - Prologue

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

Kinda Elain Bashing?, Low Self Esteem, Mention of Cauldron induced torture...

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

As far as cauldron-made went…Eira Archeron was pretty much useless. 

She had neither the power of Death nor of Divinity. 

She was neither the prettiest one, that title belonged to Elain…nor the smartest one, which was undoubtedly Nesta. Or the strongest one like Feyre…And if she had tried to hunt like Feyre, it would have been more likely that she would have accidentally killed herself instead of bringing home any meat. 

As a human, she had been limited to cooking and cleaning and laundry, all of it with limited supplies and even more limited experience. She had tried. It had never been enough. 

So maybe it shouldn’t have surprised her that her uselessness continued on even when she was no longer human.

So if she wasn’t beautiful or strong or smart…what was she then? 

The dumb one? 

When the cauldron had burned every bit of humanity out of her…when it had ripped away all her hopes and dreams…when it had been so angry with Nesta after whatever she had done to it that Eira was just…Eira was just an afterthought, something it could hurt in response to her sisters and then leave gasping on that stone floor feeling like she was dying…

She had done her best to accept her lack of humanity afterwards. Nesta had raged…Elain had said nothing, suffering silently in the bed…and Eira…Eira had tried. 

Tried to make it better…tried to make it easier for everybody around her. She had tried. 

She hadn’t wanted to put even more on Feyre’s shoulders, not with the threat of impending war…and so she had done her best to be supportive and make no trouble…be agreeable and quiet and be helpful…

But she couldn’t be helpful. 

She was nothing but a useless appendage. With no powers, no great destiny stretched in front of her…

Not even a limb. Not even a fucking pinky finger. 

More like a skin tag. 

Completely useless. If cut off, it wouldn’t even bother anybody. 

They had made that clear to her over time. 

They had made clear what they thought about her, again and again, and now…now she finally realised it. She was a slow learner…but by the gods, she did learn. 

It started…slow in a sense. Comments, made offhandedly, that probably weren’t meant that way anyway…sometimes said to her face…sometimes overheard. 

“Stop your screeching, girl, I am getting a headache.” Amren. After she had finally…after months felt like singing again as she fixed the hem on one of her sister’s dresses. She had stopped singing then.

Amren had never brought it up again. But then Amren had never been particularly nice to any of them.      

“Don’t come crying to me if she bites off your head. I warned you.” Rhysand had told her drily when she insisted on visiting Nesta at the House of Wind every week after all of that had gone down… 

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Like make another ugly dress?” Seethingly said by Nesta…pitted against the one thing she liked to pretend she was good at…the one thing she could do and make money with…

It cut. Of course, it did. But it wasn’t even the worst thing thrown at her head by Nesta…so why was it the one thing that stayed in her mind? 

“We don’t need Eira. Quite frankly, it’s better if she doesn’t go. Elain is the prettier one, anyway.” Cassian…overheard by Eira before the rest of them had gone off to Hewn City. Eira left behind because…well the contrast of Elain badly dressed was enough, no need for Eira to…be what? A distraction?  

And it was true too. Elain was the prettier twin sister. 

Eira was just…common as muck as her mother had liked to remind her…Nesta was the smart one, the one who would marry a prince…Elain would marry for love and beauty…and Eira…well, she would make a good farmer’s wife as far as her mother was concerned.

Not pretty enough to garner a richer man’s attention…not smart enough to drag herself up the echelons of society on her own…To easily content as far as her mother was concerned. 

“As far as cauldron-made goes, she is pretty much useless.” Morrigan. Said in jest. Eira was quite sure of that…still, it had hurt. Because it was true. She was useless. 

No magic sparking at her fingertips…Using her magic was like pulling teeth…painful and a long process…And it never did what she wanted anyway. 

“Eira, find somewhere else to be. I really have more important things to do,” Feyre had said with a sigh…after she had brought her sister cookies and tea…after she had only tried to get Feyre to take a break from her work. 

Eira hadn’t tried that again either. 

And then the one that clinched it: 

“At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”

Said by Elain…by her twin sister. She was frozen in place, staring at Elain wide-eyed as her sister sneered at her. 

 That was the last drop into an already overflowing bucket. 

Stress. Right? Just stress from wedding planning. Elain would have never said that usually. 

She wouldn’t have…

It was just…it was just stress…Just stress. 

Elain didn’t mean it like that. 

Right?

Elain flounced off…her wedding binder in tow…leaving Eira alone, sitting there, in the dining room, her chest aching. 

Eira was in a trance as she carefully put all the plates into one tidy stack…as she was thankful that it had just been her and Elain, every other person in their family busy with their mates or something else…Feyre and Rhysand gone with Baby Nyx for the evening…Nesta and Cassian off at the House of Wind…who knew what Mor and Amren were up to…

Or even Azriel. 

A sob threatened to take over, as she thought that name. 

She walked up the stairs…to her room…Her room. She locked the door with shaky hands. 

“At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”

She collapsed on her bed, burying her face into her pillow and let the tears stream. 

Ridiculous puppy crush. 

All of that said because she had tried to talk to Elain about her choice of flowers for her wedding. Because lilies wouldn’t be in season when she married Lucien in Day Court in less than 2 months. 

And then Elain responded with that, because Eira clearly wanted to ruin her wedding with that factoid. 

“At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”

The worst part of it was that it was the simple truth. 

Azriel was never going to pay her a second glance. 

He had always been more interested in Elain than Eira…he had on more than one occasion asked Eira questions about her twin sister…had made sure that Elain was comfortable and cared for…and Eira had sufficed as a source of information and nothing else. 

And after Elain and Lucien had become serious…well, Eira ceased to be interesting too. He hadn’t sought her out again. 

If she sat next to him at dinner, he was polite and quiet, bordering on silent. And then she tried to fill the silence and probably only annoyed him in the process. 

He didn’t want her. He never would. 

She starved down the sobs that wracked her body. 

It was probably high time that she accepted that, right?

High time to get over herself. 

High time that she reminded herself that…that she was never going to have him and that staring at him in ill-hidden affection only made everybody else make fun of her and probably made him deeply uncomfortable. 

So maybe it was better that she just…

At least he had never called her useless, she supposed. It could be worse…even when he never would want her. 

She felt the touch on her hand first…soft like velvet…like kitten fur…never warm, never cold. massive and somehow not… definitely not human. 

The shadows. His shadows. 

Sometimes they came to keep her company. At the start, she had thought that maybe he had sent them but nowadays she was quite sure that they had just liked her quiet singing while embroidery one afternoon. So quiet that nobody would hear.  It had taken her months to coax them out of their corners after that. They probably had just taken pity on her. 

Just like they did now. 

“Please don’t,” she choked out. She never wanted him to find out how she was feeling about him…never wanted to feel the pain of him outright turning her down. 

 And if his shadows came to check on her, they would report back in what they saw…and they didn’t need…didn’t need to worry about it. 

They never talked to her. Just sometimes they came and listened to her softly talk to them while she was sewing in the evening, about this and that...

It wasn’t right how she talked to you, the shadows whispered. 

They didn’t talk to her. Never. 

And now they did. 

Hell, even his shadows were feeling sorry for her, weren’t they? 

“Please don’t tell him,” she begged. 

He should know, they disagreed softly. Everybody should know. She should apologise to you. 

And what would that give her? Nothing. More embarrassment because everybody else got to hear all about her fledgling little feelings? Feelings she should bury deep and never examine again? 

“Please,” she begged again and the shadows seemingly surrendered, curling themselves up against her hands so that she could touch them. 

Don’t cry, they soothed her softly. Don’t give her that. 

Elain hadn’t said anything that was untrue. That was the worst part. It was true. And that hurt. 

Is there anything we could do? the shadows asked Eira softly. Anything at all to make this better? 

“No,” she whispered, choking out the words, another sob. Not anymore. There was nothing anybody could do. 

It hurt. It hurt so badly.  Just like the cauldron had.  Then she had wished she would die. 

Now…now she wondered the same once again. Maybe then it would stop feeling like this. 

She cried her eyes out, as the tears kept pouring over her cheeks…as she sobbed until her throat was raw and everything hurt. And finally, she just laid there…the shadows still swirling worriedly around her prone form. 

“Don’t you need to work?” she asked the shadows listlessly, tears tracking over her cheeks. “Don’t you have something more important to do than to try and comfort me?” 

Maybe take care of him?

You are important, the shadows snapped. 

Eira could argue that point. She was useless. So what did it matter? It didn’t. 

She wiped away the tears, but new ones just came pouring over her face and she stopped trying, let them run down her face and wondered how long she could stay in her room and never come out again. 

Would you like something to eat? the shadows tried again. So sweet. Trying to give her something, anything to comfort her. 

“No, thank you,” she whispered. Alone the thought made her want to throw up. 

She didn’t want to eat. 

She didn’t want to get up and talk to anybody. She didn’t want to even look at another person anymore. 

She didn’t…

What would you like then? The shadows tried softly. Would you like to plot revenge? they suggested. 

It was so stupid that she choked out a laugh. 

“For what? Elain saying what everybody else is thinking?” Eira asked, her heart painfully restricting. 

Nobody here actually wanted her around. If she disappeared forever she would do them a favour. Him especially. 

Elain had only said what everybody else was thinking. 

All three of her sisters had found their mates, just not Eira. All three of her sisters had some kind of power…just not her. All three of them had found some kind of place for themselves…and then there was her, living with her youngest sister, half seamstress, half nanny for her child, an unwanted appendage that was taken care of out of some feeling of duty and no other reason.

Elain had just voiced what she was thinking. The truth. 

It had been the truth. Plain and simple. And Eira maybe didn’t like to hear it but it didn’t…it didn’t matter. 

It was the truth. 

Elain had two men willing to marry her and spend the rest of their lives with her…and nobody wanted to spend any time with Eira. A husband wasn’t even something that had ever seemed to be a possibility. 

Even if everybody else is thinking, that doesn’t make it right. The shadows disagreed quietly. Your sister said that to hurt you and not for any other reason. 

“She’s stressed out with wedding planning,” Eira whispered. 

It had just been that. Probably. Maybe. 

That doesn’t make it right, the shadows disagreed again, twirling tighter around her wrist. We could ruin her wedding. Lilies and all, they suggested brightly. 

She shook her head. No. Elain should have the wedding she dreamed of. Eira wasn’t going to ruin it for her. 

“Don’t do that,” she said weakly.

We could at least steal her wedding binder, they told her mulishly, and Eira wondered if they disagreed like that with Azriel too.

Azriel…

What did it say about her that she fell head over heels in love with the first man who treated her with polite indifference? That she was so desperate to be loved that that was all it took? 

Did it matter? 

No. 

Elaine was right. He would never spare her a second glance. He was just as unreachable as any other male.

Nothing was enticing about Eira.  Neither her body, nor her mind, nor her magical power. What could she possibly offerany male? 

All the nightmares she had on a near-daily basis? All the fear and anxiety that swirling around her gut every day? 

She could sew on any buttons he lost along the way, she supposed. That was something.

The knife that plunged into her womb and twisted, took her by surprise. 

It shouldn’t have.  

Of course. 6 months had passed once again. 

“Don’t tell him this either,” she begged in a whimper. This was too embarrassing. He didn’t need to know about her cycle. 

Nobody did. She was the most modest out of all her sisters. The one with the most human ideas of what was considered to be decent, left…the only one who…

The only one left with her maidenhead intact, because everybody else was mated or married or very much in love and it had never mattered in Prythian anyway. 

Just Eira was left. 

Without a mate. Without a husband. 

Without ever having even been kissed. Nearly 26 and that…hadn’t happened for her. 

It probably would never happen anyway. 

Why today of all days? 

Why did her cycle need to torture her today?  How did she deserve this? Why not in a week…Though at least now she had a reason not to leave her bed for a few days.  

She could just stay here. 

Mope in her own Misery and self-pity…wallow in the pain that she knew would come…

Of course, it would. She had always had a horrible time during her cycle even as a human…as a Fae, it had become her very own personal torture. 

Maybe a bath would make you feel better, the shadows suggested softly as she already curled herself together in pain. 

She needed to get up and sort herself out before it got even worse…made sure that she wouldn’t get blood all over the sheets, but she couldn’t…She didn’t want to. 

And a bath…A stab of pure fear.  

“It’s like the cauldron,” Eira whimpered. Just like the cauldron. 

She didn’t bathe…she used buckets of water…even years later…still standing water was not something she could stand. Not without being reminded of her humanity being ripped away and traded for whatever this existence was. 

What if we make sure that it isn’t? the shadows asked her softly. It will be nothing like the cauldron, we promise. 

A bath…a hot bath that would help against the soreness of her muscles…that would maybe ease the cramps…

It did sound nice. So nice. 

So Eira just weakly nodded. 

That seemed to be all the agreement the shadows needed as they whisked her to the bathing chamber, in the blink of an eye.

She watched as they flitted about the room, turning on the water, dotting candles around the room, making it brightly lit with faelight and candlelight both. 

Lots of foam and bubbles appeared in the bathtub as well as numerous concoctions being poured into the water. 

She slowly toed off her shoes and opened the laces of her dress. Eira hesitated and the shadows disappeared, letting her undress in privacy…letting her walk to the bathtub and test the temperature…stare at it for a moment. 

It couldn’t look less like the cauldron if it tried. 

She waited for a stab of fear but nothing came. 

So she slid into it, let the warm water envelope her, the perfect temperature… A few tendrils of shadows came to keep her company, touching her chin so that she tipped her head back and they started to wash her hair for her. 

Eira couldn’t even remember the last time anybody had done that for her. 

And they did that…without even asking…just…just for her. 

“Thank you,” Eira whispered, not daring to close her eyes, but staring at the ceiling. “Are you sure you don’t have anything more important to do?” she asked weakly. “Isn’t your master going to be angry at you?” She didn’t want them to get into any trouble, just because they…they were taking care of her. 

You don’t want Master to find out, so he won’t, they said easily. Would you like some pain potions? 

If they gave them to her, she wouldn’t need to walk downstairs and maybe face her sister or gods forbid, Rhysand…and ask them for Madja. 

Nobody would need to know. She could have her privacy and her dignity left intact. 

“Yes, please,“ she breathed in relief as the shadows poured something or other over her head. One shadow brought her a vial, wrapping around her wrist as she uncorked and downed it. 

A bitter taste but it left her blissedly numb and tired nearly immediately.

“What’s that?” She mumbled as they hushed her, massaging her head.

It tasted differently than whatever Madja usually gave her…telling her that pain and discomfort were normal and that her potions would ease it…It was like pouring a bucket of water over an inferno. 

While this…this was quenching everything. Leaving her numb. 

Just a rather strong pain potion, the shadows promised her. You’ll sleep for a bit…We’ll talk more then.

Sleep… Sleep sounded nice…

She didn’t even think about feeling self-conscious when they pulled her from the water, rinsed her off and wrapped her in warm, fluffy towels. 

They laid out her favourite nightgown so she only needed to pull it on and pull back the sheets of her bed so she could slide beneath it. 

Even a hot water bottle was waiting for her…

Everything so that she would be as comfortable as possible… everything for her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, tears pricking in her eyes as she climbed between her blankets, the shadows fluffing her pillow and pulling the blankets as high as they went. 

It was weird…to have the shadows doting on her, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Eira was too selfish to protest this bit of attention…the only positive attention she had in years. 

They promised not to tell, so she wouldn’t either. Not when this was the sweetest thing anybody had ever done for her. 

She fell asleep between one breath and the next, safely and warmly ensconced in her bed. Deep dreamless sleep…When she woke, it must have been the middle of the night…and still, the shadows were there immediately. 

She whimpered at the cramps that were ransacking her body…and the growling of her stomach in hunger. 

She hated these cycles. Hated how weak they left her and how she wanted nothing more than to cease to exist. 

Are you hungry? You’ll need to eat before you can take another pain potion, the shadows told her worriedly. Not a lot, just a little bit, they promised. 

“I don’t want to go down into the kitchen,” she answered weakly, biting her lip. Not that she thought that she could safely traverse the staircase anyway. 

Eira just wanted to stay here…alone. Maybe with the shadows for company, as long as they wanted her…

We’ll get you something. What would you like? They assured her immediately. 

Everything in her body ached for something human, even when she knew that their food would taste like ash for her. She always wanted human things. The things she would never have again.  

“Maybe some soup?” Eira asked finally. “If that’s not too much trouble?” 

Of course not. 

They fluffed her pillows and helped her sit up…and then soup appeared…a bowl filled with clear broth with bits of vegetables and chunks of chicken and noodles…cooked to perfection…better than anything she could have ever produced and by the gods, she had tried…All of it, arranged on a tray, with two slices of perfect crusty bread and another pain potion. 

She took that first, and it made her pleasantly numb and tired…and so she weakly spooned as much soup as she could in her mouth afterwards… mopping up the last of her soup with the bread. 

She finished as much as she could before she was too tired and the shadows tucked her back into bed, curled up on her side…so they could fuss with her hair which was a mess as always. 

She felt like a child being fawned over and she couldn’t help but relax into it…let them do with her whatever they wished if they just kept being so…nice to her. 

Feeling better? they asked softly and she hummed. 

If you could be anything…do anything... what would it be? The shadows wondered quietly. The movements of them were lulling her to some space of safety and warmth and Eira considered the question. 

If she could have anything in the world…what would she want?

A heady question. 

“When I was…young,” she said softly… “I wanted a dashing knight to come rescue me, and whisk me away from that horrible cottage,” she said weakly. “That’s what I wanted since I was old enough to want anything.”

A stupid children’s dream. 

But sadly there were no knights in Prythian and even if there were any, they wouldn’t pick Eira. 

And now? The shadows pushed. 

“Somebody that loves me,”  she admitted quietly. “A husband…children.”

All of that…she wanted all of that. 

And she was never going to have it. 

We could find you a husband, the shadows finally said quietly. If that makes you happy…we could help you.

“Who could possibly want me?” Eira asked, her voice breaking. Who would want her? The answer was easy: Nobody. 

Only because Master is an idiot, doesn’t mean every male is, they told her tartly. 

She wanted to laugh but it ended in a sob. 

“He isn’t an idiot,” Eira disagreed. “He just knows that…I am not good enough for him.”

Not pretty enough, not smart enough…not enough period.

That’s ridiculous, the shadows hissed. 

It wasn’t. 

“He’s in love with my prettier twin sister,” Eira snapped. “I shouldn’t want him anyway. Why should I want to be his second or even third choice?  Maybe for once, I want to be somebody’s first choice! Maybe for once, I want to be treated like I matter! That my feelings matter…that I matter!” It burst out of her. The tears burned in her eyes at that admission. At…how unfair it was. 

What had she done to deserve this? What had she done? 

Eira immediately regretted that outburst though. “I am so sorry,” she blurted out.

They didn’t deserve to be pulled into her feeling unfairly treated. She should stop complaining. It wasn’t going to…

For what? the shadows snorted. You are absolutely right. You deserve to be somebody’s first choice. You deserve to be treated like you matter. 

She didn’t. 

Maybe you should go shopping, the shadows suggested with a sigh. The suggestion was so sudden that she stared at the tendril of shadow still wrapped around her wrist. 

“Why?” she asked with a sigh. 

The Morrigan does that if she feels bad. The shadows told her earnestly. Then she buys shoes and feels better. 

Ah. 

She highly doubted that shoes were going to solve any of her problems. A pretty pair of shoes wasn’t going to make anybody fall in love with her. Or want her. 

“What am I supposed to buy?” She asked quietly. “Just shoes?”

Stuff. The shadows answered easily. Whatever you want. Whatever makes you happy, they assured her. All your sisters have more stuff than you. You make them dresses and other things. But you never make yourself anything, the shadows said quietly. Nobody would say anything if you wanted things that are yours. 

Right. She had never bothered with that. Not after she had lost all her things together with her humanity…there had been some piles of necessities sent to them by Rhysand…and that had been that. 

She had never bothered to get more than that. She still wore those dresses of the very first weeks… and while she had made dresses for all three of her sisters…as human out of necessity, as Fae out of habit…she hadn’t made herself any in years.

Not since becoming Fae. Her new body felt…she hadn’t wanted to look at her new body for long enough to figure out how something should fit onto it. How it had changed….

These godforsaken ears were enough. 

Buy things for yourself. Like a new dress! Or earrings! Diamonds! The shadows suggested. Whatever you find pretty. 

“My ears aren’t pierced,” she said quietly, a yawn taking over her face. 

That brought them up short.

Master bought you pearl earrings, the shadows said suddenly, sounding perplexed. 

He had. Beautiful. Impersonal. Unwearable for her…a far cry from all the little trinkets he had given to Elain…

Still, for months she had stared at them and found them oh so beautiful…safely kept in their box in her drawer at her vanity table. 

Maybe that alone should have told her everything she needed to know about the state of Azriel’s affection for her. 

Namely it was non-existent when the spymaster of the night court didn’t even bother to check if she even wore earrings. 

And the earrings…well…they were only…one thing. Her room at the River Estate that she had been supposed to furnish to her liking…that was another. 

In the end, it had consisted out of her getting a set of the same bedroom furniture as every other guest room and her walls were painted cream like in every other room Feyre hadn’t gotten to yet. It was still as impersonal as it had been when she had moved in. 

She knew that Elain had stuff to litter her bookcases with…gifts from Azriel or Feyre or Lucien, her mate…even Eira had gifted her sister things. 

But all Eira had…were the dresses she had on commission laid out on her desk. Which she would need to return to the shop where she worked as a seamstress at soon enough once she was finished with her alteration on them…and well, that was it. 

No books, because her reading was absolutely atrocious…no little trinkets from any of her sisters…no paintings or art or anything really. 

Just…her sewing and embroidery supplies and that was that…and even these weren’t…held in one of these pretty little wooden sewing boxes on legs that would keep them tidily kept away…

Do you need money? The shadows asked her seriously. 

“What?” Eira asked weakly.

She made some money with her job. Not a lot…but some. All of it carefully stashed away to buy birthday or solstice gifts from…or little trinkets she saw in a shop and thought one of her sisters would like…that Nyx would like. 

Do you need money? They repeated patiently. To buy stuff? For yourself? 

“No, I have money. And I don’t want to owe anybody anything,” she answered quietly, her eyes slowly closing.

 She didn’t want to end like Nesta… were in the end, her habits were used to bludgeon her with…she didn’t…

You wouldn’t. The shadows assured her. We have our own line of credit. 

What? 

“How does that work? Do you have your own bank account?” she asked curiously, and she could nearly feel their amusement. 

We like playing the lottery. Everything we win, we put into Master’s Bank Account, they explained to her earnestly. He never uses it anyway. We could just put our winnings in yours instead. Master wouldn’t care.

It was so ridiculous that she couldn’t help but giggle. 

“Really?” she still asked weakly. 

Really! they assured her seriously. Enough for you to have a shopping spree! We like shiny things, they told her, making her laugh. Master never buys any. We’ll pick up some mail-order catalogues for you and then you can spend tomorrow ordering some things. Maybe some curtains to spruce things up a little. It’s awfully empty in here. 

Still, she couldn’t help but ask. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

Nobody should be treated like you are, they told her fiercely. Nobody should feel like they have no place anywhere.

[sulumuns-dootah]

Okok, I don’t know if your taking reqs…but I read your ‘avoiding them because of a dare’ and got the idea…what if it wasn’t because of a dare, but because you were threatened into avoiding them by a decently strong demon, stronger than us at least

WHB kings' reaction to MC avoiding them due to being threatened by a different demon

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Ooh, your mind! This is some juicy idea right there :D

The demon threatening MC is in all instances the same: a Hades demon with the ability to lie and be invisible (and won't heistate to use either to make sure MC doesn't just run to the kings)

Warning: Things get kinda dark

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Satan noticed you haven't been around much

And whenever you happened to be in his viscinity, you looked panicked and tried to get away as soon as possible

Did he do something?

Emergency meeting! Nobles assemble!

Everyone is helpless and has no answers

Then Amy bursts into the room:

"Ayo, I think this might have something to do with this weirdo from Hades that's been hanging around here pretty much since this all started?"

And everyone including Satan lights up like !!!

So the next time you're somewhere alone Amy's gang pulls up and Amy tries to get some answers

But you're too affraid your stalker is somewhere nearby and won't hesiatte to do something to you within the blink of an eye if you tell

So Amy's guys leave

And ofc, once they're out of there, he appears

Just as he's about to say something, Satan appears out of nowhere and... uh... let's the demon know the full power of Satan's wrath

       ༺☆༻

This time it's actually Bimet who notices your absence

He doesn't even bother to tell Mammon, because he'd think it's another one of those bets

But this time it feels kinda sketchy to Bimet

So he looks up your Tartaros bank statement to see where you've been spending you money

...

Why are you buying self-defense items and books on how to fight demons stronger than you?

Okay, now that has to alarm even Mammon

Bimet storms into Mammon's office without a care in the world and reveals all his findings

Somewhere around that time you start noticing meeting the same demons over and over again and it's almost like they're all just observing you

Nah... It has to be your paranoia getting to you so yous hake it off

Until your demon stalker catches yoiu off guard by pulling you into some back alley between shops

You don't even have the chance to scream and the moves from your book are useless too

At this point you're already accepting that his is the way you die...

But then the three demons you've been seeing everywhere flood after you and the next thing you know, your stalker's on the ground and one of them is making sure you're okay

       ༺☆༻

This situation kinda poses a question: if two demons are invisible, do they see each other or not? i would imagine that either invisibility is a different layer of reality and they would then see each other... or it's not that and they wouldn't see each other

Anyways...

Leviathan would know from the beginning since Foras is looking after you most of the time

If your stalker is smart enough to somehow figure out the times you're alone, he might actually pull it off

If it weren't for Foras immediatelly noticing the change of your demeanor since the last time he was around

He will ask you what is going on, but if you don't tell him, he'll have to tell Leviathan

So you tell him and eventually, with a bit of a help from Glasyalabolas, you come up with a plan

The next time he comes to threaten you, you say a special phrase, which will summon all the nobles to your side and they'll deal with him

Unfortunatelly that plan failed succesfully in experience

Your stalker did come up to you in another absence of Foras, but Leviathan himself just happened to be around and heard everything he said

Yeah, that guy is now a permanent ceiling decoration in the Hades castle

       ༺☆༻

Talking about near-constant supervision

Your stalker's plan would've worked out if it weren't for one small, buzzing, tiny problem

Even on the go, Beel wants to know where you are, what you're doing and so on

To you it's already normal so you don't even notice the constant buzzing sound following your around

The stupid demon doesn't even have the chance to finish his threat to you before a familiar chuckle signifies danger

It shouldn't be so satisfying to see the fear in your assiliant's eyes, but here we are

With a sliver of hope, he turns around to run away, but Beel's having none of it

Beel catches him under the neck and hugs him close to himself while looking at you mischievously

"Soo~ Y/N! What do you think I should do about your friend over here?"

       ༺☆༻

Similarly like with the dare, Belphie would notice your absence but won't think much of it

So when he casually asks Beleth what you're up to and what's gotten you busy and only sees blank stares of realisation on all of his nobles' faces, the hunt is on

You're just somewhere out in nature, already given up all hope and trying to get reclaimed by nature when a black void swallows you up without any prior notice

It feels like you're floating and getting crushed by the nothing around you

But then as you looka round, you see Belphie who looks way too awake

Oh shit

You're gonna die

!!!

Okay, you don't die, but Belphie questions you in more of a bad cop way

After you hastily explain your situation, ending with tears in your eyes, Belphie just smirks and walks over to you

As he hugs you, the void around you starts to dissipate and you start feeling something soft underneath you

Well... To be fair, your stalker would be really dumb to try doing something to you while you're in the very same bed with the king of Sloth himself

       ༺☆༻

Ignoring the fact that this is literally the canon :D

Let's just say that you've been around Asmodeus long enough to get infected with is energy

Staying away from him at that point becomes agonisingly painful

The heat is always there and it seems like nobody except for him is able to lessen it even if for a few hours

So sorry, random Hades demon, not gonan happen

From that point on you decide to stay in Abaddon because which sane demon from outside Hell would voluntarily go to Abaddon?

And if you happen to venture out, you always make sure to be with another demon

If you tell about your predicament some other fellow Abbadonians, they'll pose many interesting questions and scenarios:

Would he recognise if it was some other demon disguised as you?

and

If he did cause you pain and you seemed to enjoy it, would he be disgusted or encouraged by it?

       ༺☆༻

Avoiding Lucifer wasn't so hard since he barely leaves his ward of the hospital

But still, even going to the hospital was a potential risk of meeting him

So just make sure you don't need a doctor and you're good, simple...

Well it would be, if the crazed demon didn't leave you every so often with a warning in a form of you waking up in the morning with few cuts and they only keep getting worse

To the point that you have no other choice but to go to Paradise Lost and ask one of the nobles to stitch your wounds together

Buer, bless him, did eventually agree to keep your visit a secret

So everything went well, right? Nope

A certain baby dragon was so excited that you visited the hospital after so long that he jingled to Lucifer's room the instant he heard your voice

So while you're anxiusly waiting to be discharged, your heart sinks the moment Lucifer walks into the infirmary

He... seems calm and collected?

Luci just reads you file and casually looks over your treated wound, running his finger over the bandages

"I see you've been well, Y/N. Haven't seen you here lately. Try to keep them as clean and sterile as possible, okay?"

Somehow you make your way out of the hospital kinda... disappointed...? No scene or anything?

(This is getting to long so I'll just summarise)

After you're out of the hospital, the demon attacks you but the second he lays his hand on you, he's frozen i place and Lucifer appears out of nowhere

Turns out that Luci drew a protective sigil on your bandages to alert him when your attacker tries to do something again

[tabootoji]

"YOU COLD? LEMME WARM YOU UP..."

✰ - SYNOPSIS: you try to learn more about your cryptic partner, but toji has plans of his own... (OR) you cockwarm toji and he fucks you on the couch while you while you have company over. (ft. naoya zenin & shiu kong) ✰ - WC: 4.0k ✰ - TAGS: age gap, size diff., teasing, pet names, impact play, alcohol use, nipple play, dry humping, cockwarming, exhibitionism, v. penetration, f. orgasm, creampie, (mentions of threesome), no use of (y/n), all lower case, reader is female ✰ - A/N: my first toji fanfic can you tell i'm excited?!?! i ended this with a pretty fluffy ending to my own surprise, so enjoy! (age gap is 10 years, reader in 20's, toji in 30's)

first impressions are important. people use them to determine their initial opinions of you that they'll probably hold on to for as long as they know you. most of the time it's hard to sway them from it once their minds are made up about the type of person they think you are.

which is why you're currently standing in front of your bathroom mirror for the third time in the past 20 minutes to do another check on your hair and outfit. you smooth down your t-shirt and skirt with your hands along with your hair, and take in a deep breath to calm your nerves.

the reason for your anxiety? any minute now you were going to meet your boyfriend's best friend and cousin, two guys on a very short list of people toji seemed bothered enough to care about.

you and toji began dating only recently, but the two of you have been smitten since meeting at a grocery store where he promptly asked you out. you weren't the type to accept date offers from random men you just met, but there was just something about his unwavering confidence and devilishly good looks that made you unable to say no. and oh did toji know how to use his attributes well. you both moved fast, even deciding to move in together after only knowing each other for such a short amount of time.

despite the fast development of your relationship, you cared deeply about the older man, and you enjoy the time you spend together...it's just that you wished you knew more about him.

whenever the two of you are together, you're usually the one doing the most talking while toji listens, with the occasional head nod to show he’s paying attention to whatever you're saying. but he barely talks about himself. you know nothing about any family members or friends, in fact, anything that happened before you met him is a complete mystery to you. you're not even really sure what he does for a living, only knowing him to be a contractor of some sort. at times you're brutally reminded that you're practically living with a stranger.

you've expressed your need to know more about the mysteries you know he’s hiding behind the opaque glass emerald of his eyes, but toji only chalks it down to the fact that he's just a boring older man that just enjoys the simplicities of life. you know he’s lying to you, a man like toji gave everything but the ordinary. but you let the issue go anyway, not wanting to pry.

toji knows how much you want to learn more about the inner workings of his life, and he can admit seeing you act so despondent about it bothers him, which is why he's arranged this hangout - to give you some insight on his complex past. and although you're incredibly excited for this, you’re also extremely on edge. you had to use this miraculous opportunity to ensure that the people most important to toji not only accepted your relationship, but liked you as a person.

in the middle of your thoughts, you hear said boyfriend call out your name, making you jump back into reality. they must be here! you take one more glance into the mirror before coming out of the bathroom.

you rush to the entrance of the apartment where you heard toji's deep voice boom from. "are they outside?" you ask with a slight squeak of your voice as soon as he's within your field of view. toji stands at the front door waiting for you, his tall frame almost surpassing the height of it. he had on his usual wear, black compression top that you always teased him for wearing a couple sizes too small (which he would always answer: "can't ever find any that make my size") and gray sweatpants that held onto his narrow waistline beautifully, then fell loose around his extensive legs.

he bobs his head, answering your question. walking to his side, you watch his verdant eyes take their time to look you up and down. once you're finally within arm's length, toji grabs your waist and pulls you into the lateral side of his solid abdomen, bending down to plant a smooch on your cheek. "relax ma, y'er gonna jump outta y’er skin. don’t worry, they'll love ya."

"okay toji..." you decide to listen to him, attempting to shake the nerves out of your body. "ya look damn good, that's f' sure." he smirks, the scar on his calloused lips curving upwards before he slaps your ass, causing you to gasp in surprise. he then abruptly opens the front door, not giving you anytime to recuperate before your face to face with your visitors. oh how he just loved messing with you.

in the hallway of the complex stood an average built man with a tapered haircut, the sides on the top sticking out. his small yet enigmatic eyes displayed politeness as he smiled at you and toji. beside him was a taller guy with a fitter build, his haughty attitude emitting through his relaxed posture. and if his flashy blonde hair didn't put you off, his edgy piercings did.

you gather yourself quickly, greeting them with a clumsy "hi" and a small wave of your hand. the latter shamelessly gives you a once over blatantly. once it seems he’s determined that he likes what he see’s, he utters a "nice" to toji with a nod of his head, arrogantly pushing his way past you both to enter your apartment. you stand frozen in disbelief, blinking your eyes in confusion. no way he just...?

"shut y'er ass up naoya." toji warns playfully, shoving his shoulder as he passes by. "that's my rude ass obnoxious cousin. this here's shiu." he flicks his thumb towards the dark haired gentleman's direction.

"nice to meet you." he says, his mouth arching up in union, making you take notice of the peach fuzz on top of it that seemed to complete his corporate look. once you've all entered, naoya looks around at the ensemble of the living room with a look of disgust, while toji and shiu begin to catch up with one another. not knowing what to do with yourself, you skittishly announce that you'll go and get drinks for everyone, scurrying into the kitchen.

you rush to the shelf filled with bottles of hard liquor that toji stashed and decide to grab a bottle of whiskey, along with four old fashioned glasses in the neighboring cabinet. as you fill the cups a little more than halfway, you strain your ears to listen into the trio's conversation.

"been a while since i've seen you. this meetup all of a sudden? ya must be serious about this one."

"sure am, so quit ya gawking dickhead."

you hear shiu snicker at the two’s playful banter while you set the glasses on a tray, building up the courage to head back into the main room. you stride to the three, holding out the platter to serve them their drinks. toji and shiu thank you before taking a swig of theirs, while naoya cockily snatches his own wordlessly and goes to take a seat at one of the lounge chairs in the room, leaving the three of you to join him on the corresponding arm chair and couch.

when you're all seated, shiu turns his attention to you and toji. "so fushiguro, how'd ya manage to trick such a cute girl into dealing with'ya?" he jests, leaning forward onto his knees and taking another gulp of the dark substance. after sipping your own, you already start to feel the liquid amplify your bravery as you ease up for the first time since your guests arrived.

"he's not so bad." you say sarcastically, leaning on his brawny arm. "oh yeah?" toji combats smugly, wrapping it around you and laying his rough palm on your hip. shiu peers at the two of you with a look of appreciation. naoya mutters "how cute." with a roll of his eyes.

"toji's never told me how you both know each other." you blurt out, not missing a beat. with your newfound boldness, you weren't going to waste anymore time not utilizing this chance to learn more secrets about your lover. toji’s gaze raises from yours to shiu's, who's already silently watching him. the two exchange a wordless stare down for a while, shiu being the one to break it with a laugh. "we used to work together, a long time ago." he finally says. you glance at toji and he's guzzling down his beverage, seemingly refusing to elaborate. hm, that was definitely something...but what?

"this meaningless chit chat bores me." naoya suddenly announces, swirling his chair to the direction of the tv in the room and turning it on with the remote he somehow found to flip through the channels, forcing everyone to watch his selected program. looking at the group's glasses on the table in the middle of you all, you realize the guy's have already finished their spirits. you take it upon yourself to clear the area, getting up and gathering everyone's empty cups besides yours back on the plate to put into the sink back in the kitchen.

once you return, it looks like naoya has decided on a film to watch. the lights are off, the television providing the only dim light in the small area while all eyes were trained onto the moving pictures. as you're about to take your seat next to toji, he swiftly takes your arm, pulling you to him to plop onto his lap instead. "wrong seat girl." he whispers, making you shiver slightly when you feel his hot breath hit your clavicle.

toji wastes no time holding your small frame with his arms that are more than twice your size, adjusting both of you so he could lean his back on the plush sofa, and you could lean on his broad, sturdy chest. he's rubbing small circles on the exposed skin of your hip with his thumb, and you can already feel his budding erection poke you from beneath your skirt that barely covered your crotch.

you may not know much about the enigma of toji fushiguro, but there is one thing he's made sure to make apparent to you very quickly after the two of you got together: the fact that he's a total horn ball. the man always needed to have his hands on some part of your body whenever you were together. and it's not like you don't enjoy the physical attention, you were just hoping that toji could master some self control, especially in front of others.

at first, you only feel occasional pecks on the back of your neck caused by him pressing his moist lips onto various sites of your nape. then, toji's hand moves from your waist to underneath your shirt. this evening, you decided to forego a bra and instead wore pasties to cover your nipples, which he easily peeled off to expose them. the cotton material of your shirt rubbing against the swell of your chest coupled with the hasty grazes of toji's hand already leaves them stiff, ready to be played with.

he takes one of your peaks in between the rough pads of his fingers and gives it a teasing pinch, almost making you leap right out of his lap. chuckling at your reaction, toji then uses his knuckles to gently twist the other, planting his mouth right below your neckline and sucking on the skin there.

you bite the inner flesh of your cheek at the prickling sensations that start to rush through you, very sure you've already made a mess of your panties from toji's touches. the alcohol you've been drinking is doing wonders for your assertiveness, and your libido, because you begin to rub your groin against his growing bulge, seeking relief at the neediest part of your body.

for a while toji leaves you be, grunting softly at the friction from your humping. he feels your damp underwear on his clothed cock as you rut against him like a dog. suddenly, he pushes you forward momentarily to fidget with the drawstrings of his joggers. when you turn around to see what he's doing, your eyes sparkle in amazement and excitement at the sight of toji's fat cock lying on his abdomen, his swollen head already threatening to dribble precum onto his shirt. he pulls you back till you're close enough for him to mutter in your ear. "sit on my cock doll face"

if you were sober, you'd have already reprimanded toji for being such a pervert, especially in front of their guests. worst case scenario you'd have at least snuck him into the bathroom and dealt with him there. but the liquor was making you feel more and more risque as the seconds passed.

so you reach forward and grab your lone glass to take another sip of its bitter contents. arching your back, you make sure toji has a good view of your ass. once you confirm he has when you hear him hiss "oh shit..." you pull your panties to the side to uncover your drooling cunt. you set your cup down and take a deep breath to brace yourself, taking toji's dick to align with your awaiting pussy before slowly sinking down onto it.

"fuck..." he breaths out once you finally manage to take in all of his thick girth. he rests his head on your shoulder, holding you even closer to his solid body. you can feel the mass of toji's penis expand your squishy insides, the bulb of his cockhead pressing against your cervix deliciously. your tight, moist hole provides a snug hold to his large shaft. was it always this hot? a bead of sweat falls off your brow as you try not to bring attention to yourself.

but when toji returns to tugging on your taut nubs while he licks up and down your slender throat, your mixed fluids seeping out of your conjunction, you almost let out a moan before shiu abruptly breaks the silence in the room. "hey fushiguro, win any bets lately?' he asks, freezing the both of you in your tracks.

toji clears his throat, remaining cool calm and collected as always. "nah, not yet. m' not worried though. been feelin' real lucky lately." he answers, satisfied at the clench of your pussy around his member at his suggestive words. shiu simply lets out a snicker, continuing to watch the television.

whew, that was close. "you cold baby?" toji asks you all of a sudden. you give him a confused raise of your eyebrow, baffled by his worry of your temperature now of all times. "poor thing, ya got goosebumps all over ya." he teases you, running his digits up and down your arms. "don't worry, got just tha' thing to warm ya up..."

taking a blanket on the other side of the couch, toji lifts you up with one arm like your weight is nothing to him. he lays you both on your sides, covering your bodies with the rug. his previous question finally clicks for you once the two of you are situated in this new position, one of his large palms gripping your bent leg while the other supports the side of his skull so he can look down at you.

it'd be risky, but naoya seems to have fallen asleep, and shiu appeared to be entertained enough with whatever program was on to pay you guys any mind. all you had to do was try and stay as quite and still as possible till toji was finished. hell, who were you kidding? you needed him just as badly. if toji didn't move inside of you soon, you thought you were going to combust.

you get your wish when he begins slowly thrusting into you. "i...change my mind, ah...you're bad all the time." you moan quietly. toji seems to be making each stroke count, plunging deeply into you with every push of his hips. he bends down to kiss your hot temple with a cocky grin. "and ya love it."

toji ended up being right, because if you thought you were hot before, you're sure that you're boiling now. nevermind the blanket serving as cover while toji fucks you, you were enveloped by the warmth of his tight embrace, his large body caging your small one against him. you try your best not to squirm, covering your mouth with your hand in case any lewd sounds fell from your lips as toji continued to drag his cock against the goopy walls of your pussy.

it was getting harder and harder for toji to contain himself as well. he wanted nothing more than to fuck the living daylights out of you, like he always does. he had half a mind to throw his guests out right now so he could thoroughly have his way with you. though he could admit this was another level of naughtiness that turned him on even more from doing this in secret.

by going so agonizingly slow, toji could take his time to not only feel each and every inch of you, he could admire how cute you looked trying to contain yourself as he stuffed you with his bulky cock. each time he was fully inside of you, he paused to stare at your pretty face scrunch up as you took all of him, the weight of his hefty member prominent.

he's partly surprised he's even able to go this far with you right now, given the current circumstances. but seeing how cock hungry you are for him, uncaringly giving into your lustrous cravings just as he was fills his heart with a mixture of adoration and desire.

a layer of your slick coats the rim of toji's rigid dick, allowing him to easily slide inside of your warm mound. you start to push your butt back to meet his tantalizing jabs halfway, causing toji's breath to hitch in his throat. he looks forward to make sure the added movements haven't caught the attention of his friend and cousin. once he's confirmed that the coast is still clear, toji returns to focusing on the leisurely pace of his throbbing cock.

your bosom bounces off of his lap each time he drives himself into you, and the way you pivot your hips back and forth allows toji to reach even deeper inside of you, your g-spot being consistently stimulated by the round end of his shaft. wet strings of your combined arousal begin to form and snap, and it all becomes too much for toji as he lets his head fall behind you. he uses both of his arms to cuddle your waist to hold you still, afraid that he’ll cum just from the gracious movement of your hips alone.

now that he has a good hold on you, the force toji uses to propel further into you knocks you forward each time. he’s squeezing you so tightly, almost as if he’s afraid that if he lets go, you’ll disappear from him. and when he begins to flick the sensitive nub in between your legs, you fear your chest will cave in from the pleasure at any moment.

toji rubs your responsive bundle of nerves with his long digits, using the wetness your pussy made from being played with. an overflowing amount of your sap leaks down onto his pelvis as he continues to use your body like his own personal flesh light. he peppers the length of your neck with kisses before gliding his tongue against the veins protruding from it. you can feel the indentation of his scar as his lips brush your pulse.

you feel toji's desperation as he rocks you back and forth; he's close, and you want nothing more than to feel him erupt inside of you. you reach underneath to clasp onto his weighty nutsacks. toji almost chokes on his own breath when he feels you start to massage them with your soft hands. you take both masses into your palms, utilizing the moisture from your sex and rubbing prominent circles into his scrotum. for fuck's sake, it was like you were manually attempting to milk him dry.

both of your heads fog from the overwhelming satisfaction you were giving each other. neither of you were even sure if you were still doing a good enough job keeping up your facade of ‘cuddling', too entrapped with the task of helping the other climb up their ladder of gratification. toji sinks his canines into your collarbone while you press your face into the cushions of the couch to muffle your noises as you both reach your climax.

with a final thrust, toji stills inside of you before emptying his load into your awaiting womb. hot ropes of his cum shoot inside of your trembling cunt, and it's so much. toji always cum's like a horse, but this particular time it's like its never ending, to the point where it begins seeping out of your pussy that's still contracting around him from your own release.

the combination of the heat of the moment plus the liquor must aid in your exhaustion, because your eyelids close right away, ushering you into slumber. toji takes a moment to calm his rapid heart beat by controlling his erratic breathing, bathing in the tranquility from his orgasm. the slow rise and fall of your body tells him you've already fallen asleep, which makes him chuckle.

oh but toji was far from done with you. his engorged balls that were still filled with more of his cum twitched as his cock began springing back to life. the velvety texture of your inner walls that still gripped his length even in your sleep had him rock hard again in no time.

he contemplates waking you back up, knowing you'd probably feel bad later about falling asleep while your guests were still over. but his good girl worked hard to be a good hostess, and a good cock sleeve, so he opts to letting you rest for now. you'd need it anyway, especially for what he has planned for you later after he kicks his companions out.

speaking of, toji looks up at the two in question who, in his opinion, were now overstaying their welcome. naoya is still knocked out, snoring obnoxiously with his mouth hung open. but to toji's surprise, shiu was not only still wide awake, he was already looking back at him knowingly.

"you know, you two aren't as sneaky as you may think you are." he says, shaking his head with a tsk. not seeming too affected about being caught, toji shrugs, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear while admiring your sleeping form. "what can i say? can't keep my hands off of her."

humming in acknowledgement, shiu speaks again, a sly grin on his face. "fuck your girlfriend on your own time. or at the very least, ask me to join, like old times." toji makes eye contact with his old friend, a long pregnant pause stilling the room.

his first reaction was to entertain shiu's comment with a snide response of his own, which has always been the nature of their friendship. however, as toji looks down at the girl who's managed to capture his mind, body, and heart, someone who was able to awaken emotions inside of him he thought he abandoned a long time ago, he can’t bring himself to joke around about the most important person in his life: you.

"nah, not with her." toji finally says, giving your forehead another kiss and gazing at you lovingly as you continue to sleep peacefully. observing the tender moment between you two, shiu smiles to himself, content with seeing his friend express genuine happiness after so long. "she must be real special."

"yeah, she is."

[yanderefarm]

yandere butler introduction

cw;; violence, age gap, nsfw, mommy kink, public sex

His name is Phillip Hemlock and he's 52 years old.

He's been serving your family ever since you left for boarding school and is incredibly loyal to them.

Before becoming a butler he was a sorcerer's slave and he would be experimented on regularly. This is where the scars around his neck come from.

The scar on his chest used to be a branding but when he escaped he scratched it out himself.

He's actually a talented sorcerer as well but he's never received an education for it.

He has a major soft spot for you especially after your parents untimely death. He's so proud of you for always being strong so he wants to gently take care of you and let you be more childish.

He's good at knowing exactly what you want before you even know you want it. If you're starting to get cold he'll be wrapping a blanket around your shoulders. Right when you think you might want a snack he's there with a tray of snacks.

You get treated incredibly gently by him. No one else does.

If a servant makes a mistake they will be forced through vigorous training even if it hurts them until they get it right.

If a noble tries to insult you or makes you uncomfortable they'll receive enough poison to make them incredibly sick.

The only person he can't be hostile towards is King Emil so no matter how much he wants to he's just forced to stand and glare.

He can't get away with killing nobles every time so he does it very sparingly. Only if he feels they've done something unforgivable.

He's good at cooking, cleaning, dancing, fighting, and piano. He'll also learn any skill you want so he can entertain you.

Your happiness is the most important thing to him because he loves you so much. He never expects your love in return because he is just a lowly servant but he wants to be by your side forever.

It would hurt but if you did decide to get married to someone but as long as you don't try to elope he'll accept it.

If you try to elope he'll be forced to take drastic measures.

You are the duke of the north in Emil Landorr's kingdom. Your castle stands as a line of defense against the northern monster lands.

It also shares a border with the enemy theocracy but the north is too cold and monster infested to be a point of war.

The previous duke and duchess died in a carriage accident quite randomly but there is some question of the actual randomness of it.

Your castle is a fortress and the second largest in the whole kingdom. Only the king's is bigger.

Not a lot of nobles are willing to brave the cold and the monsters that's why you're not bothered as much by them.

Phillip is the other reason they tend to leave you alone.

nsfw

Phillip really enjoys having his chest played with especially having his nipples sucked. He'd like to gently pet your hair and encourage you to suck more.

He definitely has a little bit of a mommy kink. He's incredibly embarrassed to be called it but it turns him on so much.

He's so embarrassed to want your body he feels like a pervert. At first when his feelings started he swore that his love was pure and innocent. Then one day he accidentally overheard you touching yourself and his view changed.

He likes listening to you touching yourself and slipping his hand into his pants to pretend like you're touching him instead. If he ever heard you say his name while you were in the middle of it he'd cum so quickly.

He struggles sometimes to remain professional while he's bathing you or helping you get dressed. He tries to commit your body to memory for his fantasies later. If you catch him staring he'll be even more embarrassed and ashamed.

Sometimes he uses magic to conjure up a version of you to help him get off.

He has a surprising amount of stamina and resilience for his age. He can ride you.

He's a sadist more than a masochist but he enjoys having his hair pulled.

He'd honestly enjoy any punishment you decide he deserves if that's what you want.

He'd also like to punish you a little bit. Especially if you're reserved and not spoiled, that's a punishable offense in his book.

Loves a spoiled brat darling. You want him to do everything? You want to cling to his chest while he rides you? You want to misbehave and be bossy even when he's in charge? Everything for you.

He likes any position where he can see your face. He dreams of looking into your eyes while you breed him so full and he tells you that you're such a good boy.

He also loves for you to leave embarrassing marks on his neck. He'll cover them up but he likes the danger of it.

He likes public sex for that reason too. Fuck him where the other servants could see their manager being turned into a sloppy whore. He'll be trying so hard to keep quiet while he's almost cumming from every footstep he hears.

He feels like a pervert if you bring up the age gap but it also turns him on to be degraded by a younger man. He's supposed to be mature but here he is a pervy old man getting bred by his beloved master.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || You're Being Bullied

PAIRING: Skz X GN!Reader (Use of Mx in Jisung’s piece: Mx is an English-language neologistic honorific that does not indicate gender)

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

CHAN:

It had been happening for a few weeks now, whenever you were in the gardens of your University a group of four guys would regularly mock you and it was something that was ruining your love for painting. 

"I was thinking I could bring you some lunch today, I can't stand the thought of you spending all your lunch hour painting in the gardens," Chan mentioned as he walked with you, his hand laced with yours but your heart began to thump with anxiety. You hadn't told him about the bullying yet, you didn't want it to seem as though it was bothering you even if it was.

"What's wrong?" He questioned, already being able to read you like a book. But your eyes were distant and your smile was strained at best and he knew something was bothering you.

"Channie," You breathed out, tears shimmering in your eyes as you finally revealed the torment you faced nearly every single day by the same group of people. Chan's heart shattered into a thousand pieces as he listened to you and he was going to kill anyone that had upset you.

"Who is it?"

"It's not a big deal, I-I'll just go back to painting from the window." You pleaded with him, not wanting to confront anyone about what they had been saying about you but Chan wasn't going to just let it go. 

"It is a big deal," He breathed out, about to continue what he was saying when he heard laughter sounding from behind the two of you.

"I bet they think they'll be the next Vincent Van Gogh." The voice was nailed on a chalkboard for you and your whole body tensed up giving Chan all the confirmation he needed to know it was that group that was always starting on you. 

Within seconds he was turning around to face them, his face red with anger, his eyes blazing as he stared at them,

"You have no right to mock their passion, to belittle their dreams! They are more courageous and talented than any of you could ever hope to be!" Your hands clutched onto Chan's arm, your heart thumping heavily.

Chan continued to yell at them and you stared up at him, each of his words filling you with more confidence than ever as you whimpered a little, he was like your knight in shining armour. 

"Go, paint baby, I'm not done yet." Chan pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and you walked away, going to sit in the gardens and do some painting. From that day on, Chan was by your side every lunch you went down to the gardens just in case someone else had something to say.

MINHO:

Minho had decided that he was going to surprise you today with a small bouquet of all your favourite flowers, all morning long he had envisioned the look of surprise and joy on your face when he would see you. He'd finished up work earlier than he expected and wanted to surprise you as you came out of uni and he was heading to the spot he usually met you. 

But his steps slowed down, his heart sinking as he heard harsh voices echoing around you as you stood there accepting their words. Fury built up inside of him the more he heard them speaking so badly about you.

"HEY! Enough!" He boomed as he walked toward you, the three men who had been surrounding you all paled at the sight of Minho as he wrapped his arm around you.

"Minho? They're with you?"

"Yeah, they're with me. What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" He yelled at them, his tone firm and unwavering as they began to stutter and stumble over their words. Minho turned to look down at you, his gaze softening,

"Hey, sweetheart." He said gently, reaching out and kissing the top of your head.

"Have they been bothering you for a while?" You stared at him before looking at the three men who had been tormenting you for weeks on end and you nodded and by now they looked terrified.

"We didn't know they were with you!" One of them quivered as he stared at you, pleading with you to say something but you stared at Minho. He was the "it" boy in college, the one everybody loved and looked up to and no one messed with him.

"And that gives you an excuse to belittle someone? To make them feel smaller than you? Why? Because you have nothing else in that pea-sized brain of yours?!" By now Minho was beyond angry but you squeezed his hand a little, you were grateful for what he was doing but all you wanted was to go back home with him.

"You're lucky they're here," Minho hisses before wrapping his arm around you and taking you toward his car,

"Thank you," You whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. Minho smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. 

"Always," He smiled warmly, kissing you softly this time.

CHANGBIN:

Changbin had his arms wrapped around you as you sat together on a bench in the University's garden, sharing a tender moment together for the first time in what felt like forever. You'd barely had enough time to breathe during your finals but now the two of you had time for another.

"I love spending time with you, everything feels perfect when we're together," You beamed up at him as he held your hands.

"Me too, Yn. You make everything brighter," He admits, your smile growing wider as you stared up at him, getting completely lost in his eyes when there were suddenly harsh whispers and mocking laughter surrounding you. Your smile faded,

"Look at her, they think they're so pretty." Someone mocked, making your heart drop, you already knew who they were but you'd hoped that they'd leave you alone if they saw you with Changbin.

"Yeah, like anyone would ever look at them twice." The second man cackled as if it was the funniest thing in the world for them. Changbin's eyes darken, his fists clenching as he listened to the cruel words directed at you.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" He yelled, his voice trembling with anger but you shook your head, trying to hide your hurt.

"It's okay. Let's just go," You whispered, you didn't want to cause more drama, you just wanted to enjoy your time with Changbin.

"No, it's not okay. They have no right to talk to you like that!" He was angry with them for talking to you that way and even more pissed off that they had bullied you into believing it was okay. There was no way he was going to let this slide.

"Oh, look who's standing up for his partner. How cute." One of them mocked, your stomach twisting as Changbin turned around to stare at them, quickly rising from where he had been sitting and walking in their direction.

"They're not just my partner. They're an amazing person and you have no right to tear them down." The two men seemed to realise they fucked up as they stared at him, your hands clutched onto Changbin's arm trying to get him to leave.

"We were just joking, man, can't they take a joke?" The first one grumbled at him but Changbin blinked at him,

"Jokes are supposed to be funny, do we look like we're laughing to you?" He waited for them to say something but you pulled at his arm,

"Binnie, let's just go...please."

"No, we're not leaving until they apologise." He folded his arms across his chest, the two men scoffed at you both and rolled their eyes.

"Fine. Whatever. We'll leave them alone." One of them grumbled, about to walk away but Changbin grabbed him by the hood of his jacket.

"Apologise." He growled out, and the man's voice trembled as he turned to face you, both of them apologising instantly and scampering off.

"Are you okay?" Changbin asked, his voice turning gentle as he checked on you.

"I will be, thank you for standing up for me." You sniffled a little and he wraps his arms around you. holding you close to him.

HYUNJIN:

"I bought snacks for our movie night, I also made sure to stock up on your favourite hot drink," You told Hyunjin excitedly as you practically bounced up and down in the hallway. The two of you were going to spend all weekend curled up in bed watching movies, finals were over and it was time to relax. 

"Of course, they got the snacks, I bet they're mostly all for them," Someone snickered from behind you, catching the attention of Hyunjin who frowned a little. You beamed at him, trying to get him to ignore the two girls who had been starting on you all week long, you had no idea who they were but they'd decided you were a problem for them.

"It's going to be amazing," You told him as you took his arm in yours, about to pull him away when you heard giggling.

"They think they're all that," One of the girls mocked, snickering at the other girl who was staring at you both.

"Why would he want to be with someone like that anyway? He could have whoever he wanted and he's chosen the trash," Hyunjin's eyes narrowed as he stared at the two girls.

"Is there a problem, ladies?" He arched his brow at you and you took your head, trying to brush this off.

"It's nothing, just ignore them. It's not worth it."

"No, I won't let them talk about you like that." He grumbled,

"Prince Charming to the rescue," A boy stated as he wrapped his arm around the first girl, your stomach knotting as you stared at the three people who had made your life hell all week.

"We're just stating the obvious, you could have anyone and you're with that thing?" The words were like knives to your chest and you shuddered, looking down at the floor. As soon as Hyunjin saw your head down he lost his cool/

"Yn is an incredible person and deserves to be treated with respect! How would you like it, if someone picked apart your relationship?!" His voice was loud, gaining the attention of other people in the hall.

"We're just messing around, dude. Can't they take a joke?" The guy mumbled defensively, 

"Hyunjin. Let's go." You whispered to him but he didn't move, he just stared at them.

"I love Yn, and anything you have to say to them can be said to me." The two girls stared at you, biting their lips as they looked sheepishly.

"We're sorry." They mumbled, you knew they didn't mean it but right now all you wanted to do was go home.

"Okay." You mumbled grabbing Hyunjin's hand and walking away from it all. 

"I have two weeks left, I could have just ignored them forever."

"I don't care, you don't deserve to be treated that way," Hyunjin whispered as he wrapped his arms around you and brought you crashing into his chest.

"You never have to face anything alone." He promised you.

JISUNG:

Jisung walked through the corridors trying to make his way to the courtyard to find you, he'd just picked you both up some lunch and was ready for a long break filled with nothing but food and cuddles with you but when he walked closer he froze in place.

"Look who it is, Little Mx perfect." Someone sneered, his eyes narrowed as he saw Tessa and Lucy - two girls he had once considered friends mocking you.

"Yeah, always with their nose in a book, like they're better than everyone else." Jisung's hands tightened on the food containers as he saw the distressed look on your face. 

"What's going on?" Jisung asked, his voice filled with anger as he stared at you, he could already see how relieved you were to see him.

"Jisung, I.." You were trying to come up with an excuse, something you could say that wouldn't make him hate them since they were his friends.

"We were practising lines for a play," Tessa told him with a sweet smile, her body swaying from side to side to appear more innocent.

"Funny. I thought I heard you mocking Yn for reading their book," He placed the food containers down beside you and kissed the top of your head.

"No-"

"Is it because the two of you can barely read above a 5th-grade level between you that bothers you? Or that Yn is my partner?" He folded his arms across his chest and your mouth fell open hearing them talk to them the way that they had with you.

"Jisung!" Tessa squealed but he shook his head at them, he wasn't going to let this go on.

"How long has this been going on?" Jisung directed his question at you and you bit your lip.

"Since we got together," You admitted shyly and he hummed,

"If you can't treat my partner with respect I don't see why I should offer you respect back."

"You've known us longer!" Lucy screamed but Jisung shrugged his shoulders.

"Treat people the way you wish to be treated," He mumbled, taking your hand in his and picking up the food with the other before walking away. Checking on you as you both went to find another spot to sit in.

FELIX:

As soon as Felix had gotten the but dial from your phone he was working his way to you, his anger bubbling up more and more as he thought back to what he'd overheard. Two girls were confronting you about something, their voices dripping with malice.

"I think you should pour your drink on them, anything would be an improvement from that outfit." One of them giggled, Felix knew them as Bailey and Chloe, the university's "mean girls" because apparently it didn't end after high school.

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't know you guys sat here." Your voice shook as you gathered up all your books, trying to move past them but Chloe pushed you back onto the seat.

"Are they addressing us?" She asked snarkily to Bailey who was giggling and undoing the lid to her coffee.

"Ew. Why do you think you could even speak to us?" Bailey asked, your head shaking as you tried to think of something to say.

"What's going on?" Felix asked as he jogged up to all three of you, your body relaxed as soon as you saw him.

"Why don't you go and mind your own business? This doesn't concern you." Bailey hissed at him, Felix ignored them as he pushed past them and checked on you.

"It does when you're harassing my partner." He grumbled at them,

"You're together?" Bailey's voice shook his time as she and Chloe stared at each other in complete shock.

"Did they hurt you?" Felix asked, ignoring them as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"We didn't know they were with you." Chloe defended but Felix scoffed at them.

"It shouldn't matter if they were or not! You should treat everyone with some fucking respect!" He grumbled at them, a tense silence washed over everyone as he stared at them, waiting for them to apologise to you but they just blinked at you both.

"Are you going to say sorry or not?" He bit out before they both stared at you,

"We're sorry, Yn. Truly. We didn't know." Bailey stuttered but you bit down on your tongue, Felix was right it shouldn't matter if you were a couple or not for them to start on you.

"Go." He mumbled to them before turning his full attention to you, checking on you as tears ran down your cheeks.

"Thanks for standing up for me, Lix." You breathed out before he pulled you into a comforting embrace.

SEUNGMIN:

Seungmin lingered outside of your last class of the day, the two of you had plans to study after your classes had finished before going to dinner in the night.

"Did you see what Yn was wearing today? They look like they've raided a thrift store." Someone snickered as they left the class,

"Yeah, did you see the state of the shoes too? They're a complete disaster," The two men were so lost in their own conversation that they didn't notice Seungmin grabbing them both by their hoods.

"What did you say?"

"Seungmin! Don't!" You pleaded with him, this was going to be more hassle than it was worth. The two boneheads he was confronting didn't care who you were or who Seungmin was and they would go back to bullying you tomorrow.

"They do this a lot?" Seungmin arched his brow at you and you nodded shyly, 

"So knucklehead one and two, want to tell me what about my partner is so funny to bully?" He slammed them against a wall, both of them groaning as they rubbed their shoulders from the impact.

"Relax man, we're just kidding around, right Yn?" They stared at you, both of them glaring as they tried to scare you into submission,

"R-Right-"

"Bullshit, I've seen the way they come out of the classes they share with you," Seungmin was beyond angry at this point, he knew something had been bothering you but he'd never been able to pinpoint it until now.

"I want you to apologise."

"Sorry." They both mumbled, completely unapologetic as you stared at them,

"Fucking mean it, you waste of space!" Seungmin mumbled to them, both of them stuttering as they began to apologise.

"I find out either of you have been talking about them again I'll rip your tongues out," Seungmin whispered in the sweetest voice he could manage before taking your arm around his and walking with you.

"Screw studying let's grab food and go to mine." He told you as you giggled, kissing his cheek softly.

"My knight in shining armour." You whispered.

JEONGIN:

Jeongin made his way back to the library with two hot drinks for you both, he'd decided it was time for a short break and a reward for studying together so hard but when he came back he froze in place.

"Who would even want to hang out with them? Such a nerd." Someone laughed from the table directly in front of yours, he knew the men as Levi and Christian and he instantly wanted to pour the drinks he was holding onto them. They got into the University because they were good and sports and not much else, never studied a day in their lives either.

"Nose buried in their books, they think they're better than everyone else around them," Levi hissed out, Jeongin's heart pounding with fury as he made his way over to stand behind the two losers talking badly about you. But the worst part was that you weren't looking up, as if you were used to the torment they were dishing out. 

"They're too chicken to say anything too," Christian laughed, balling up some paper and throwing it at your head. You glanced up, your eyes widening as you saw your boyfriend standing behind them.

"Awh, is the little baby going to go cry to their boyfriend?" Levi asked before Jeongin placed his hands on both their shoulders, the drink resting on a shelf nearby.

"J-Jeongin?" Levi sputtered out, staring up at him as Jeongin stared down at him.

"Something to say, Levi?" He waited for them to repeat what they had been saying but they shook their heads violently.

"Stange, I could have sworn you were belittling my partner because they have brains." By now the two men were terrified and shaking their heads more, turning to look at you for help but you were laughing into your hands.

"N-No, we were just kidding around, having some fun," Christian mumbled but Jeongin hummed,

"Making fun of someone isn't fun, besides. I'm surprised you two have the intelligence to bully someone, let alone know where the library is." He picked up his drinks again and the two men began apologising profusely in your direction.

"Something funny?" Jeongin chuckled as he sat down beside you, your lips finding his as you kissed him deeply. 

"Just how scared they are of you." You smirked, kissing him softly once again.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @xakx @sleepb @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @kpopmenace143 @minhosify @loveforred @b1nn1e-1s-cut3 

[zarla-s]

Something I've been wondering - if I recall correctly, the brothers were aging Gaster before his fall, since a boss monster having children mean they give up their immortality.

In any of the Mercyplates, how'd he react to noticing he's aging? How'd he deal with it, no longer being immortal? How would the brothers deal with it? (And potentially even Asgore & Toriel if you're up for answering that too)

I've had this little exchange in my scripts file for ages and I never found a place to put it and also the more I thought about it the less sense it made BUT HERE IT IS ANYWAY (Gaster isn't signing on purpose)

Anyway, after he accepted that the things he'd made were actually monsters, he pretty quickly realized that he'd age as they grew, but considering he'd given up on everything except breaking the barrier at that point, he didn't really care. After getting to the surface, he still thinks about it without much emotion. On some level he'll always feel like being free isn't real and he'll wake up underground again at any moment. Dying of old age is just sort of an aspect of that.

Realizing he'll die before the goatparents is upsetting, but knowing that they're happy on the surface helps with that. He'd rather die before them than outlive them. On the whole he's very "guess i'll die ¯\_(ツ)_/¯" about it all. Dying before the brothers also doesn't bother him too much since he's sure they'll be better off without him anyway. All the signs of aging like sore joints and slowness and tremors and bad memory etc are very annoying to him though lol.

Papyrus handles it VERY badly and freaks out at any hints of him aging, and man when Gaster dies, hoo boy. Sans is pretty conflicted about it. Alphys is devastated. Asgore and Toriel are sad, but they don't really know him like they did before, so it's not as intense as it would be otherwise. They're used to outliving people. They're much more upset in Mercyplates scenarios though. :< They're familiar with the prospect of death when having children, even though they don't know WHY Gaster chose this since they don't know what he was actually trying to do. They try to empathize with him about how hard it is to face death after immortality while he just doesn't really care which confuses them, haha. Also worries them a little...

Even with both of them drawing on his SOUL's magic, I imagine that Gaster will live long enough to be around for a while even in Mercyplates scenarios. Long enough for the human to show up and do their thing at least, and for a while on the surface as well. He's got some life in him still. And who knows, maybe being reconstituted from the void did something to him that froze his aging again! Have to ask yourself which scenario appeals most to you, hehe.

[index] [patreon]

[taylor-titmouse]

Do you have an advice on how to describe characters without sounding weird? I always feel like it’s out of place for a character to be describing themselves or to cut the scene short to describe what each character looks like. But I do want the reader to know what they look like.

god yeah that's always a challenge isn't it. i can get away with just Not describing if i really want to because i have illustrations, but that's not helpful to you (and my editor bullies me if i do this so i try not to, lol)

it's all very contextual of course. obviously yes you shouldn't have a character stop and describe themself in a mirror, and a character would not think about their own hair being black because of course it is, they know it is. stopping everything dead to give an accounting of a person's appearance or outfit is how you get a my immortal.

you can find excuses, though. if the character is vain or self-conscious, they may compare themself to the others around them. they may mention their new clothes and how nice they look with the color of their hair, or their eyes. when describing other characters, one or two features when they first show up is usually enough, or as inserts with their actions. "he furrowed his caterpillar brows" "she picked at her long nails" etc.

when choosing what to describe, consider what sort of picture those features actually imply about the person. a man with caterpillar brows could be read as older, or of a certain ethnicity if paired with other features, or the use of "caterpillar" could say something about the way the observer thinks of him. it's not as flattering as a simple "thick" or "strong" brow might be. what would the POV character choose?

i think also if you're working exclusively in prose and don't have a visual component, part of you is going to need to accept the reader will not have the exact same vision of your guy that you do. do not bother trying to describe the exact design of a person's clothes, their precise hair style, or any of that. get their most basic, iconic features on the page, and just let whatever happens happen. they are going to get it wrong and they'll tell you and it'll make you insane but such is life. my mental image of estraven from left hand of darkness is Just Kenta and i could not tell you why.

so uh. dunno. it's tough. maybe read some Classics of Literature and see how they do/don't do it. it's always good to read more when trying to figure out how to write.

[yandere-sins]

Okay, what if the beta is just so defeated that they 'accept' being the omega's 'alpha' in one condition. Never feature him on his work ever again, or even more, delete all of the content featuring him. if the beta is sly, he could add that he is too jealous that they see him being so sexy and he wants to monopolize all of that when they mate, he doesn't want them to see their private intimacy, but in reality he doesn't want the sickos to see him

Oh gosh, I'm just imagining the two of you cuddling on the couch (or well, the yan climbed on your lap and forced you to actually participate in life and not space out for once), and for some reason, they decide to give you their phone, pushing it in your hand. Maybe the omega wanted to 'show' you a specific comment on their video, but in the end, they allow you to keep scrolling to your heart's content while they cuddle with you. The omega can clearly see how horrified you are as your read all these nasty comments from people wanting you to fuck them, too, after seeing your 'debut' video. But your captor enjoys it, especially when you bloom to live, gasping and frowning, embarrassment written all over your face.

Everything you read is vile and disgusting, especially when it reminds you of how you were used and forced to do these things that so many perverts pay for and 'enjoy' watching. You throw the phone away and, with tears in your eyes, beg the omega to delete the video and make these disgusting people stop commenting on you, your body, or your 'performance', never having realized just HOW famous the omega really is. It's bad enough that you have to live under these conditions, but you should at least have a say about what people are allowed to see of you.

And the omega, well... you know they planned all of this. They wanted this breakdown to happen because frankly? It's gotten a bit boring with you shutting down most of the time. The yan wanted to get a rise out of you, wanted their beloved beta to beg and squirm and almost cry, so the omega can play the little hero and kiss your tears away, promising they will delete it if it bothers you so. Like a good partner. Because they love you.

That is if you do something for the omega in return.

You have no idea what you're agreeing to when they ask you to 'become' the alpha they know you are. At that moment, you cannot imagine the cruelty of submission it takes for the omega's wish to come true. Of course, the yandere is overjoyed to hear all the little promises about you trying to behave like an actual alpha and your very cute tactics to gain some brownie points with the omega.

They know you're only talking big when you say how jealous you are about others seeing you two. How you don't like it when strangers can see your lovely omega, and that you want them all to yourself. Really, for a moment, you made the omega's heart flutter as if they were still a teenager with a crush. These are all the words they ever wanted to hear from their lips, and when you try so hard to be 'alpha', kissing the omega awkwardly, they just melt into you.

But it's not enough.

You got to do a bit more than that, 'Alpha'.

They'll demand you to take them to the nest, prove that you can be what they want while promising on everything holy that they'll delete all the videos if you step up to the challenge. The omega is squealing in delight when you force yourself to pick them up, carrying them down into the basement, to their nest. To the place you've been avoiding like the pest since your drug-induced rut, your knees shaking as you stagger down the stairs. Gosh, they are so happy.

All they need to do is click the little button inside their pocket so that the dozen newly installed hidden cameras turn on, the lifestream starting simultaneously. They are so happy to finally get a real mating bite, a true lover's kiss, and another amazing million in their bank account when their viewers get what they always wanted: Something real.

And you are none the wiser as you do your due diligence, a massive grin on the omega's face from knowing their plan worked perfectly, their toes curling as moans echo out of the love nest.

[nyanbinary-perineum]

They say being an adventurer is the most rewarding job out there.

"They get to see the world! They gather such riches! They claim ownership of such powerful relics!"

Bah, short sighted fools I say. And disrespectful more often than not.

I say the most rewarding job out there is being the person whom these over-excited "adventurers" get their equipment.

Being the expert who can tell them which relics are worth something, which might make a good weapon, or which are better off just being sold off to a merchant like me who can find a way to make use of them.

They are so accustomed to being worshiped by each towns-person that they don't even bother questioning your appraisals.

This makes getting interesting pieces for cheap a rather trivial matter~ Just tell them it's a junk item of sorts and that you can melt it down for scrap- they'll often shrug and accept any pitiful price.

Naive~

I found that it's surprisingly easy to "shift" the curses you find on these random dungeon baubles, both in what they "do" and what form they take.

It's also easy to convince a very talented, very underappreciated local smithy to join in on a fun little scheme and provide equipment to harbor this magic~

Before exploring these relics I had always assumed the rumors of cursed equipment that bound itself to the very soul of anyone mis-fortunate enough to make use of them to be just that- a rumor.

A fun little tavern tale to scare new adventurers off.

Luckily for me, that's not so.

You can do a great many things to a person who willingly encases themselves in your magic. You can change them. You can bend their flesh and mind. Erase memories, rewrite personalities. Create obedience.

Permanently.

Selling beautiful crafted, and powerfully enchanted, equipment is definitely the more rewarding job to have.

Selling pretty little lies to stupid little "heroes" and watching them wince once they put them on and the magic starts twisting around inside~

Knowing I will see them knocking on my door that night, smiling with joy and desperately clawing at their equipment as they attempt to strip for me, all the while thanking me for selling them a new life as my property~

We've made quite the little harem of dumb little sellswords who threw their lives away far before I gave them a new one they deserve.

Eyes as empty as their heads with no means of return~

This is what they were always worth- worshiping me in a far more pathetic manner than they ever experienced for themselves~

[wholelottawidows]

Being a mom to the Sully kids + Spider <3

heavily inspired by @star-girl69 (love your work btw) 🙏🤍 also you are mated with jake & neytiri in this because i said so ✌️😌 (fem!na'vi!reader)

sa'nok = mother & 'itan = son

Neteyam

definitely the least clingiest out of all them

but needs a lot of words of affirmation

i feel like jake puts a lot of pressure on him to always be "the big brother", to look after his siblings that sometimes he just needs to be reminded that he is still a kid too

"sa'nok, can i talk to you about something?"

him venting to you and you just looking at him with pride in your eyes

scolding jake for being to hard on him

"Ma Jake he's still a child!"

he would always appreciated you for that and always felt that he could talk to you about anything that was bothering him

always telling him to smile more even tho he has human teeth

calling him when he was a baby "mini tiri" because he is literally a copy & paste version of her <3

Kiri

she's definitely the hardest one to comfort

because of the whole grace thing and not knowing who her father is

A LOT OF LATE NIGHT TALKS

just you two walking around and talking about her connection with eywa

you being fiercely overprotective of her

she often feels odd; like she doesn't belong

but you are always there to remind her who she is and what she is worth

watching grace's videos together >>>

"sa'nok, do you think she would have liked me?"

"she would have loved you babygirl." <3

Lo'ak

you are definitely he's favorite parent

he is such a mamma's boy 🤍

when he was a baby you just loved spoiling him rotten

in your eyes he does no wrong and he will always be your baby

"i'm just a freak, they'll never see me as their equal, they'll never accept me."

"i see you ma 'itan." <3

i feel like you would often offer to cook him his favorite food to comfort him

when he first bonded with payakan you were the first person he told

always reminding him how proud you are of him and that he is enough

Tuktirey

the most clingiest out of all them

she always wants to be around you, play with you or just straight up cuddle with you

braiding her hair is your job at this point

she's always dragging you somewhere in the forest to explore with her

while you are doing something she will ask you to play with her at least a 100 times

"sa'nok come play with me pleaseeeeeee!"

you, her & neytiri are inseparable

when she gets homesick you try to cheer her up by taking care of her ilu together

Spider

at first you are kinda weirded out

how is he supposed be around neteyam's age and so little?

you don't really develop a relationship with him until he starts to get a bit older

same as neytiri, it was hard for you to accept him but you managed to with time

you actually start seeing him as your own

braiding his hair (i feel like he's hair would be really important to him because it's one of the only things that makes him feel connected to the na'vi people)

teaching him how to hunt; how to use a bow & arrow

always warning the other kids to be gentle with him because he's human and his body is more easily fractured then theirs

[olderthannetfic]

I really hate how easily it is to notice that, despite all the talks about tolerance and acceptance, the moment you start talking disability and the actual diversity of issues within, people get fucking uncomfortable

Especially abled-bodied, and/or neurotypical people who seem to have a might need to reframe disabilities. Not disabled, but DIFFERENTLY abled. Not disabled, but SPECIALLY abled. Or whatever, or reframing disabilities, especially chronic ones, as a superpower or some shit.

Even disabled people do that shit, it's still fucking annoying, but that's an issue between you and your life. Just don't try and push it as a "better term."

But what adds another layer is, that despite trying to pretend that people accept disabilities, they'll still become almost furious when something or a certain "life experience" is presented to be disabling. Not even "as a disability, period." but just disabling in your life.

It also almost always feels like disabilities are an afterthought in any discussions about society and issues faced. So many things don't get addressed or glossed over, UNLESS they also bother enough abled people. -Sever anxiety or other NDs that make it hard to talk to people? Nah, we won't give you the option for no-face-to-face ordering... oh the ablebodied people getting sick? Wait a minute, now it's much more accessible. : ) -Damn these stairs are hard to use because you use a wheelchair/bad legs/other shit? Ok, but can we wait until the people we actually care for need help? You can just crawl right? -You're a deaf/HOH person? And you wanna set up an appointment anywhere? Yeah... so... we only take calls. Yes we understand that we're a clinic specialising in HOH/Deafness, but you can't expect us to do HOH/Deafness-accessible appointment set-ups, like sms or email.

And then, when you dare talk about it. OTHER issues are more important. The WHATTABOUTISM in disabled issues is fucking staggering and painful. -Who cares that disabled people can't save money in fear of losing their life, what about POC people? What about queer people? -Who cares that disabled people are the first to be sacrificed when it comes down to it, covid anyone? Remember how disabled people were the first to be put on the "take them off the support" list? - Dating, relationships, marriage as a disabled person has red tape out the wazooo. But how dare you mention it, queer people also have problems.

It's not even like we get to say "Yeah both are important, let's work together." It's more like people are trying to push disabled issues out of the way, and occasionally add it on as an accessory in favor of the more "aesthetic" issues.

--

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in a Bottle - Chapter 3

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

Stabbing, Azriel unalives somebody that really had it coming, Death by being put on fire

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

*If you keep glaring at Keir like that we are never getting anywhere,* Rhys said into his mind, some amusement bleeding into his voice. 

*I think he’s trying to waste your time on purpose,* Azriel responded with a scowl. 

 The shadows hadn’t picked up anything out of the usual…but that didn’t mean anything…even Keir could manage to hide something if he really wanted to…and he did want to, Azriel thought. 

He wasn’t sure yet what…but there was something. There must be something. 

This meeting was utterly useless, was slowly turning into needless sniping at each other and Azriel didn’t like it…it felt like Keir was just trying to keep them in place for longer. 

The question was just for what? 

It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up like a cat…the feeling that something…something was…not quite right, that he couldn't put his finger on…

He hated that feeling. Azriel much preferred it, when he got all the facts… when he could make plans and plans for his plans…

But he couldn’t…and he was still stuck with being in the Hewn City and not in Velaris.

*Cassian is thinking the same,* Rhys responded with a sigh. *We’ll give it another hour. Don’t worry, we'll be back in Velaris soon enough,* he teased Azriel lightly. Rhys must have caught one of his thoughts. *Give Feyre some time and then you can go get your girl.*

An easy promise given. 

*Not my girl,* Azriel gave back immediately. *Not yet. Not…* Not until she wanted to be. Not until she knew the truth and…

*She won’t turn you down, Az,* Rhys said quietly, sussing out what was really bothering him immediately. 

But what if she did? Eira had every reason in the book to turn him down. Starting with his ill-thought-out pursuit of her actual twin sister to the simple fact of who he was…

She had every reason to tell him to fuck off to the continent because she never wanted to see him again. Granted, he highly doubted she would do that…he had never heard as much as a curse word out of her mouth. 

She had been raised as the daughter of a wealthy merchant, and clearly, that’s how she carried herself, even after everything had happened. 

At least she had clung to that bit of her human life.

*She has every reason to,* Azriel disagreed quietly.  Every reason to turn him down. Regardless of what he wished for…every reason not to be interested. 

What if she wanted to cling to even more of her human life? If the wings that he sprouted from his back were a step too far for her…if the scars that marred his hands were…

Or what if she simply didn’t want him? That would be a valid choice too and he would accept that. 

Of course, he would. 

He never wanted to force her into anything that she didn’t want. 

So what if she hated him? 

*She won't and she doesn't,* Rhys disagreed sharply. *Azriel, Mor was right,” his brother told him pointedly. “Eira has been having a crush on you for years. She’ll probably be ecstatic and immediately start planning your wedding…Maybe Elain can lend her all her wedding binders,” Rhys teased him. 

He bit back a smile at that. Maybe…maybe… He wished for that. He wished that would be…

Whatever she wanted. She wanted a big wedding? He would suffer through that, just for the chance of seeing her happy. Just for her smiling at him…not as painfully polite as she had been last evening but bright and happy and unbridled…He wanted to see that. 

He wanted to see all of that. 

But he pushed that thought away.  

*I am intrigued and terrified by what is actually in these binders,* Azriel admitted drily. *Even you didn’t have that many when you were planning Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony.*

*Helion is overcompensating,* Rhys quipped, though they both knew that it probably was the truth. 

After everything had gone down in Autumn, ending with a dead Beron, High Lord Eris and Lucien Vanserra officially becoming Lucien Spell-Cleaver…well.

*I owe you an apology,* Rhys said at that moment, and Azriel stared at his brother, who was listening to Keir with a bored expression on his face. *I did only want…the best for you that solstice but how I went around it…that wasn’t particularly nice to you.*

*Actually I owe you my gratitude,* Azriel said drily. *I didn’t want to hear it then…but I was…I wasn’t in love with Elain. I was…infatuated,* he admitted. *I was jealous of you and Cassian and that…that clouded my judgement. It could have ended very badly if you didn’t intervene.*

Very badly. A Blood Duel would have been their smallest problem then. 

*It could have,* Rhys agreed. *That’s why I interfered in the first place…But I still hurt you in that moment, and I wish I hadn’t.*

*If I keep behaving like an idiot you have my full permission to call me out on it,* Azriel gave back with a sigh. 

*Then stop thinking like you don’t deserve her,* Rhys said with a mental eye roll. 

*Sure, I’ll stop once you stop thinking the same about Feyre,* he shot back. Rhys would have retorted, but he was beaten to it. 

The shadows came suddenly, in a frenzy whispering in his ear, voices hurried and panicking: Master, Master you need to come NOW!

*What’s wrong?* Rhys demanded, just as that dormant bond in his chest was flooded with pure, undiluted terror.  

The Princeling and our Mate! 

*Eira and Nyx,* he choked out. The shadows already grasped him, before Rhys’ mental order could fully reach him.  

*GO!*

They dragged him out of Hewn City, into Velaris.

The ground he hit was scorched. 

That was the first thing he realised. 

Magic crackled in the air, thick and furious, untrained and uncontrolled…that was the second. 

Nyx had one specific playground he loved…one where Azriel knew members of their family often brought him to…with swings that he adored…

It was a place of happiness…of children laughing…of Velaris at its best…

Now…now it was a scorched wasteland. 

The swings? Gone. The smell of burning human flesh in the air, making his stomach twist, eyes tracking over the carnage. 

At least two dead…difficult to say because their bodies were burned…beyond recognition.

One more dead…mouth open in a silent scream…  One…one male held by his shadows, bearing him down onto the ground…and then, right in the middle of that carnage… in a heap on the ground…

The high-pitched crying of Nyx reached his ears, covered by the unmoving body of Eira. 

Azriel had thought that panic had been burned out of him centuries ago. He was taught something better that morning. Because it was panic that flooded his veins. Panic and Terror and…a thousand other things. 

*I need Mor! And Madja!* he snapped along the mental connection to Rhys, already hurling for both of them…sliding onto his knees as he so very carefully touched Eira’s body, feeling the delicate bones underneath his fingertips, a near unseen tremble, the smell of acrid blood clinging to her, layering over her scent. 

She had always smelled like snowdrops to him. Snowdrops and almonds and a crackling hearth. 

Now the blood…the blood…He turned her around, getting no reaction, finding Nyx safe and sound tucked underneath her, crying, his little face red and splotchy as he sobbed. 

*AZRIEL!?* Rhys demanded. 

*Nyx is fine. Not a scratch.* 

All he managed…as he finally saw the scarlet red dripping down onto Nyx…smeared all over him…and then he saw the handle of that dagger protruding from Eira’s limp form. 

Blood. Her blood. 

“Ra! Ra! Ra!” Nyx gargled, just as he finally managed to slap a patch of his killing power around that knife, keeping it steady. He didn’t pull it out, knowing that that could kill her…even when the blood that oozed out around it was starkly black in places…and he could smell the scent of…something burning in the back of his throat. 

Poison. That knife had been poisoned. 

A curse left his mouth at that. 

That wasn't good. That was everything but good. 

*Eira?* Rhys demanded at that moment. 

*Stabbed.*

The connection went silent, just as the booming sound of Morrigan winnowing went in beside him. 

“Az?”

“She needs Madja. Now,” he bit out. “Take them both.”

Safe. Safe. 

He needed her safe. And then he needed…

He leaned down, picking up one limp hand and pressing a kiss against it, her skin clammy and grey…even when he could feel her pulse thrumming underneath the thin skin on the back of her wrist... He breathed in snowdrops and almonds and sweetness...and then let go, because if he didn't...he never would. He would lie right down next to her, waiting for his demise. 

He grasped Truthteller without even thinking about it, as he stalked across the ground towards the one sole survivor. The shadows jerked him up, and Azriel grabbed hold of his throat. 

“What. Did. You. Do?!” he growled. What had they done to Eira?  To his mate?

“I…we…just the Prince…Grab the Prince. No matter the cost,” the male garbled out, the acrid smell of urine hitting his nostrils and only now Azriel took in the black uniform. 

Darkbringer. 

Court of Nightmares. Keir. 

Suddenly… it all made sense. It came together. The secret Keir had been keeping. It was so clear now. 

“Who hired you?!” Azriel spat out, wanting a verbal answer before…before... 

“The Steward!” 

And that’s all he needed to hear, before he drove Truthteller into him, into the exact same place where they had stabbed Eira…not immediately killing him, but seeing his eyes widen, seeing the realisation set in….the pained scream escaping him. 

“She’s mine,” Azriel whispered. “Mine. And you hurt her. You hunted her.” Like a game. Like an animal. 

She was his. His mate. 

And Azriel hadn’t been there to protect her.  He hadn’t been there for any of this…

“Lightning,” the male choked, blood bubbling on his lips. *She…killed…lightning.”

He didn't care what the male told him. It didn't matter. None of this mattered. 

The only thing that mattered was her. 

He watched as the light dimmed in his eyes, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction that he at least had gotten to do this. At least…

*It was Keir,* Rhys said into his mind, his voice deathly quiet.  *He…He ordered…*

*He wanted Nyx,*  Azriel agreed, pulling Truthteller out of the body, letting the male fall to the ground, wiping the blade on his trousers. 

*How many did you kill?* Rhys asked. No judgment. He could have slaughtered three dozen and Rhys wouldn’t have cared at that moment. 

*One.*

He could feel Rhys’ surprise. Then: *He said he sent 4.*

*Two were burned beyond recognition,* Azriel explained. *Another is dead, but still recognisable. I do not know how he died. The whole ground is charred. Scorched.*

A second later…Rhys and Cassian appeared, winnowing in from Hewn City. He imagined that Feyre had gone straight to their son.  Cassian took one look around at the ground, the carnage…the…

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Mor took Nyx and Eira?” he asked and Azriel forced a nod, feeling for that golden thread bound around his rib…wished he would get something, anything from her…

“She shielded him with her body,” he said nearly tonelessly. “He was smeared in her blood because she shielded him.”

Even stabbed, even feeling like she was going to die…Eira had done everything to shield her nephew. Had used her own body to keep him safe. Had protected him with her life. 

Azriel had never doubted that she loved him…but it still…she must not have even hesitated. Just done it.

She was a slip of a girl, with no combat training…and she had faced four of the Court of Nightmare's most elite soldiers and laid down her life if that meant that Nyx would be safe. 

He had seen grown Illyrian Warriors that would have tucked tails and run in this situation. 

Outnumbered…Outpowered. And still, she had stood her ground. 

“What happened here?” Cassian asked as he checked the other recognisable body. 

“They must have surprised her,” Rhys said, his voice shaking. “She thought they were safe. We thought they were safe…”

And they hadn’t been. They hadn’t been safe. 

At all. 

Death had been brought right to their doorstep in Velaris. 

“How did he die?” Rhys demanded from Cassian. 

“He was struck by lightning,” Cassian responded drily. “I have seen this before…on a cow though. It would also explain the scorched ground. If lightning hits the ground, it makes a pattern like that.”

What?

Lightning?

He looked up to the sky. It was a beautiful summer’s day. Not a trace of a storm…anywhere. 

“Do you think it was Nyx?” Cassian asked quietly but Rhys shook his head. 

“I have never seen anybody channel lightning,” Rhys answered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Never. I…” Neither had Azriel.  “He’s too young to channel magic like that.”

But was he? In a situation like that? When he had just tried to protect Eira? and himself? Maybe even at 1-year-old Nyx had recognised what…what would happen if he didn’t protect himself. Maybe it had been pure instinct on his part…Maybe he had seen Eira fall and that had been…

Eira. 

He reached for that bond again, feeling it tremble and he hung onto it with all his might, clenching his teeth. 

He…

He had failed her, hadn’t he? It should have never come that far. It should have never…It should have never…

Azriel should have been the one taking that knife to the chest, not her. 

“Clearly not,” Cassian disagreed with a snort. “He’s your son,” Cassian pointed out drily. “He’s Feyre’s son…who knows what he has inherited from her.”

Rhys stayed rooted in one spot, blinking once. 

“Rhys?” Cassian asked immediately. 

“Get Nesta,” he ordered Cassian. “We are needed at the River House.” And then after a second that felt like eternity…“It’s not…It’s not looking good.”

And with one sentence…everything crumbled. 

[madschiavelique]

MORE ACADEMY VIKTOR THOUGHTS

he's always been one of those people who got called an old soul as a kid. and he's accepted that. he got left behind a lot, and it's fine. he made a life for himself. preferred his own company anyway. preferred getting his hands into something with detachable moving parts, something that he could study, something that he could understand improve. taking apart the ticking mechanical heart of something and putting it back together with care made him feel like there was something he could control something that he was good at. it made him feel like he was existing outside of his own body for a while, and it was a welcome escape.

(having people recognize he was good at that stuff was also an welcome, if unexpected, escape).

he's got a whole lifetime of being underestimated and ignored and left-behind-because-he-couldn't-keep-up under his belt. he expects this to be the case at the academy too - these people know he's not one of them, and they are the type of people to care - so he resigns to his old ways, keeps his chin up and his eyes sharp, focuses on the task at hand. doesn’t bother anyone unless they bother him first. he simply doesn't have the energy to get into the immature games of the kids-of-someone-important who have never lived in the real world a day in their lives, he doesn’t have the time, the patience for petty social conflicts. he's at the academy for a reason, and he won't let those people ruin it for him. so when someone tries to bait him with how people from the undercity are dogs, he looks them dead in the eye and bites.

sometimes it comes in the form of a calmly expressed reply. a not-so-subtle hint at getting the staff-council-your patron involved. a quietly delivered threat - after all, these people already believe terrible things about him, why shouldn't he take advantage of it? if they think he's involved in everything from drugs and organized crime to organ harvesting and immoral genetic experimentation, what's a little more violence in the mix? if they already believe him a dog, he doesn’t need to bark to prove it. being the way he is is enough. they'll be scared of him anyway. and he's clawed his way up there, teeth and nail and with his lungs burned raw from the effort, he'll be damned before he lets one of them take him down. he's earned his place there with more merits than most of them, and he won't let them act like they're somehow above him. he won't. they don't deserve it. he's pretty sure his heart might burn right out of his chest if he started showing any kind of submission to these people, so he keeps the white-hot-burning pride between his teeth and smiles.

sometimes, when that isn't enough, when someone is particularly stupid, he whacks them with his cane. accidentally, of course. more or less.

he tries to be civil, most of the time. he doesn’t want to get into trouble, and most of the time, he doesn’t if you don't take into account the lab equipment he burns to a crisp and the assingments he answers with this is wrong, the lectures he misses because he knows that stuff already, but that he can get away with.

most of the time, he's just there to learn. to get somewhere. he sticks to himself and does some extra reading. sure, sometimes he argues with the professors, but it's all in the good spirit of scientific exploration. he tries to get along with everyone the people who are worth it, but he still always feels like he's play-acting at being there, and if he stops to think about that too much he starts to feel like he's drowning in it.

he knows he's good at what he does, but the quiet feeling of still not being good enough is rooted somewhere deep in his bones, and it's wrapped tightly around his nervous system by now. there's always at least a shadow of it, no matter how hard he tries to convince himself otherwise. he ignores it, most of the time, but-

especially during the first few weeks-months at the academy, the understanding of everything he doesn’t-know hits him straight in the face and leaves him gasping. there are extraction fans in the lab above the work desks, and there's heat-resistant gloves and safety glasses that aren't cracked and chairs and tables you can move around to fit your body and there's so much food at the cafeteria and his room is so clean and his bed is soft-hard supportive and he feels small and stupid and like he's drowning. like he doesn’t belong there. and then the fire takes over and he needs to belong there, because he needs to make things better, he needs every little kid growing up down there to know how clean the air could be, how bright the sun can be, how green the trees are, how big the sky can get.

he needs them to grow up not knowing it was ever any different.

he wants to make the world better, and to do that, he needs to adjust to this world, and make it out to the other side. and he'll do that if it kills him, because the only other alternative is not doing it, and that would kill him. the spark in his heart would fade out and he would suffocate in the smoke of it.

so he keeps his head high and keeps going.

he didn't think he'd make friends along the way - he had resigned on the idea that he would jusy stay there for a couple of years, find a dim little dorm and a nice corner in a library somewhere, study, solve some problems, and then return to the undercity with the solutions.

so when some of the other students seem to stick by him, he is confused, and not sure what to do with it. so he does nothing, and then suddenly he's not alone in the library anymore, and that's a sticky new variable in his plans, but he still sort of likes it. it makes him feel weird-new-excited, and he likes it enough to welcome it into the equation. and even though he tries to act all nonchalant about it, inside his heart is hot and glowing with the still-hopeful ember of don't leave me behind

let me learn this

let me understand

- doctorho 💫 (sorry bro i'm just straight up writing fics in your asks now i guess)

wow the screen is so blurry oh and why did a drop just fall from my eyes ? i’m not crying there must be some rain even if i’m under the ceiling of my bedroom

[i-am-church-the-cat]

logan's pov on the soulmate au? 👀🙏

😌🕶️🤏🏼😎

--

Logan had grown up dreading meeting his soulmate. His parents were soulmates and had gotten married less than a year after they met. Dalton didn't have a soulmark and his parents always treated it like it was some tragedy. They always told Logan that the day he met his soulmate would be the happiest of his life, that he would fall in love with her immediately and never want to be with anyone else.

That was a problem for two reasons. 1) he didn't think he liked girls enough to want to be around one all the time. And 2) he was always moving around and leaving for karting. Racing was his true love, he didn't have time for a soulmate on top of that.

Despite all of that, his parents hadn't been entirely wrong. Logan knew immediately when he met his soulmate (who was a boy and not a girl, just like he had told them) but he didn't feel any differently about him than he did any of his other friends.

As they got older and got closer, Logan realized how important Oscar really was to him. He'd never had anyone that he could count on to always be there for him. Oscar was that person for him, and he clung onto him like a lifeline. He's glad Oscar didn't seem to mind.

They got older though and Logan got a bit more independent. The day that his parents would claim to be the worst day of his life wasn't actually that bad.

"I think I want to ask Lily out," Oscar said, looking seriously into the phone screen.

"Lily Zneimer? Your classmate?" Logan asks, looking up from the homework they were doing. Though Oscar and Logan were close, Oscar went to a different school in a different town. It wouldn't take long to get there but since they saw each other most weekends anyway, they didn't bother. "That sounds good, dude, what's the issue?" He asks, cause he could feel that something was bothering Oscar.

"You wouldn't be mad?" The younger boy asked, looking worried.

Logan paused and thought about it. Everything his parents told him tells him he should be mad. But he isn't. If Oscar likes a girl, he should ask her out. Logan wants him to be happy. And the little place in the back of his head that is distinctly Oscar tells him that nothing would ever take the other boy away from him. Logan didn't have to worry about being left behind when it came to Oscar.

"Of course not. If you like her, go for it."

He felt and saw Oscar relax and the younger boy gave him a small smile through the screen. "You know, you can date someone, too, if you want."

"Yeah maybe," Logan says, shrugging the idea off. Over the last couple of years Logan has realized he doesn't have the desire to date and fall in love like the rest of his classmates do, like Oscar does. He wants to be loved and accepted by his friends and family, he wants to race and be the best that he can. He doesn't need another person to do that with, though.

Logan haltingly tries to explain this to Oscar but the boy stops him.

"I get it, mate, I can feel you, too, you know? If you don't ever want to date anybody, that's cool."

Logan gives his friend and soulmate a smile, falling into the easy acceptance that has always been a part of their relationship.

"Well, when you and Lily get married and have tons of kids, I'll be the fun uncle with 3 dogs and a yacht."

"Shut up, Logan," Oscar says, blushing bright red. Logan can't help but laugh at him.

--

"Logan can you get the bread out of the oven, please?" Lily asks as soon as she hears him walk through the door.

"Yes ma'am," Logan says, dropping a kiss on Lily's cheek as he walks by, grabbing the oven mitts where he knows they'll be. It's been a year since Lily and Oscar got this apartment together and between races and sleepovers, Logan feels like he's here more than his own apartment.

"You're late," Oscar says, coming in from the balcony where he was taking a call. Logan just smiles at him, the same smile Oscar always says makes him look like a puppy. Oscar shakes his head and leans down to kiss Lily before slapping Logan on the shoulder in greeting.

"How has your day been, Lo?" Lily asks, moving things around on the table to make space for the bread tray.

"It was good, Elias and I spent most of it training." Oscar shudders at the mention of physical exercise during the off-season and Logan laughs.

They sit down to eat, Oscar and Lily on one side and Logan on the other, and Logan listens as Lily talks about her newest project at work. Despite being around engineers all day, most of it goes over his head, and he can tell it goes over Oscar's too. Still, he's got experience at this point, and knows when to ask all the right questions.

After dinner, Oscar and Lily end up bickering over the dishes, Logan as a "guest" being relegated to the couch. He watches in amusement at the fight, the warm feeling of acceptance and domesticity washing over him.

His parents haven't stopped nagging him about getting a boyfriend and Dalton still tries to set him up every time he's in town. But really, this is all Logan needs.

[separatist-apologist]

Lying In Between The Memories

You could call it paradise but it looks just like hell to me

Summary: Following the blood rite, Gwyneth Berdara can't shake the memories of a life long-gone.

The shadowsinger can't seem to move on after five centuries of loving the same woman.

Together, they'll have to carve a new path forward.

Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter

[ongoing TW for Sexual Assault]

Azriel couldn’t say what woke him. Something was wrong—Azriel could taste fear in the back of his throat. It was enough to sit him up in bed, one hand flung out for Gwyn. Her side of the bed was empty and cold, telling him she’d been gone long enough for her warmth to evaporate, too. The mating bond was still new to Azriel—and yet he was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to ring like an alarm bell in his chest.

Dressing quickly, Azriel made his way into the living area to find it utterly wrecked. With a deep inhale, Azriel noted that Gwyn’s scent was stronger than the underlying vanilla one just beneath…and something spicy and hot lingered just at the door.

Eris. 

A growl rumbled in his throat even as he tried to reassure himself that she’d likely just walked off with the Autumn Court heir. That seemed like the kind of thing she’d do given how unconcerned for her own personal safety she was. Azriel swallowed, hand hovering over the handle of the door. In his mind, he saw that flame licking over her fingers.

Had Eris recognized something in her? Some magic that belonged to his family, some claim he thought he might have? Azriel swore, right then and there, that he’d kill Eris if he so much as shot Gwyn a dirty look, Rhys’s politics be damned. 

Just outside the door, Azriel found a scene far worse than anything he’d been imagining. Guards swarmed the body of the prince, still smoking and charred from whatever had touched him. It was Eris, he lied to himself. He knew it wasn’t. Standing there, the guards all turned to look at him and Azriel knew there would be no easy escape. 

Which was why he allowed them to “escort” him to the dungeons before helpfully disarming him. He wasn’t alone—in the cell that was opened for him, a familiar blonde was curled up on the floor, knees touching her chin. It was the Day Court scholar, rumbled and streaked with dirt, but otherwise unharmed.

“Where is Helion?” Azriel asked, not bothering to introduce himself.

“Gone, if he’s smart,” she replied in a sad voice. “They all are.”

They all are.

“The female I came with—”

“Gone,” the blonde informed him in that despondent voice. “Eris took her.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Azriel demanded, turning the full force of the spymaster onto the female before him.

“Because I saw him, you overgrown bat,” she snapped in response. “He shattered the wards in the palace—letting them think I did it—and raced off to Prythian before he could be blamed for what he did to the prince.”

“I’ll kill him,” Azriel swore, running a hand through his hair.

“You can get in line,” she replied, words dripping with fury. Azriel didn’t bother responding to that. Where the fuck were his shadows? He wasn’t used to such silence, to not knowing everything happening around him. Had they all left with his mate? And would he be mad if they had?

Maybe a little. 

Azriel wasted the morning pacing back and forth, planning his escape. He’d take the Day Court female with him, deposit her before Rhys, and then march himself into Autumn, consequences be damned. In his mind, the whole thing was a little glorious—not only did he avenge Mor by killing Eris, he killed Beron, too. Perhaps Lucien would be named the new High Lord which seemed acceptable enough, though still irksome. 

He hated to see the people he disliked get something good, after all. 

“They’re going to torture answers out of us,” the blonde whispered when the sounds of metal scraping against metal filled the otherwise gloomy darkness. “I’ve never been tortured before.”

Pity squeezed at him. “Whatever secrets matter to you, guard them—weave truth with lies and no matter what, don’t tell them anything to make the pain stop.”

“Why not?”

“Because the pain will only intensify,” he promised, thinking of his own methods. “If they’re going to kill us, nothing we say will convince them not to. Might as well take your secrets to your grave.”

That didn’t make her seem to feel any better. In truth, Azriel couldn’t focus on this female. Not when the door was wrenched open and the two were dragged out by guards wearing chain metal gloves. The female dug in her heels, kicking and thrashing which was, in Azriel’s opinion, a waste of time and energy. She’d wear herself out before the actual torturing even began.

Azriel was joined by all but one of his shadows just in time for his wrists to be shackled over his head.

Eris took Gwyn, they whispered frantically. Azriel needed to free himself to get to her—and in order to free himself, he needed to be alone. He met the blank, bored stares of the Fae males before him and he knew, without needing to ask, that he was going to be suspended like he was for hours. 

Grit your teeth, he told himself, remember you have had worse.

Nothing King Gunnar subjected him to could be worse than what he’d endured at the hands of his fathers. And if it was, it certainly wasn’t worse than what he’d been subjected to at the hands of Rhysand’s father. Azriel could withstand immortal levels of pain without cracking and as the door swung shut behind his torturers, Azriel opened a long forgotten door in his mind.

It was where he’d once hidden as a boy, shielding his mind from the pain of his body. He could get through anything so long as he had that little retreat, along with the reminder the pain was merely temporary. 

No questions were asked at the beginning. Azriel had been prepared for that. Better to merely hurt for pains sake and then, once the subject was desperate, begin asking casual questions. What Azriel hadn’t expected was the King himself to enter, drinking in the sight of his sweaty, bloody form. The only thing keeping Azriel on his feet was sheer will—the restraints holding his arms up were useless at that point.

Were he to slump, he’d break both his wrists and dislocate his shoulders. Azriels shadows, hidden in the dark, swarmed in that unseen space, whispering a warning only he could hear. 

Don’t trust him, don’t trust him, don’t trust him—

Azriel didn’t need to be told as much. 

“Your…friend…was she? Gwyneth? Killed my son.”

Azriel didn’t react at all, unwilling to betray Gwyn at all. If she had killed Kai—and he knew she hadn’t—Azriel assumed her reasoning made sense. And if her reasons had been nonsense, he still would have stared that ancient male down and dared him to do his worst.

Azriel would go to his grave before he betrayed his own mate.

“Tell me where she is, and I’ll release you to your lord.”

Azriel inclined his head to the side and then, as Gunnar approached, spat on his boots. Blood splattered against the crisp white of his trousers, filling Azriel with animal pleasure. Next time it would be Gunnar’s blood, and not Azriel’s, that decorated his clothes.

He merely needed a reprieve.

“Do you hear that?” Gunnar asked, ignoring the insult as the Day Court female’s screams echoed around them. “I don’t think she’ll hold up as well as you have. You can do this for days, can’t you?”

Again, Azriel refused to respond. 

“You know, I heard a rumor about your kind,” Gunnar continued, sidestepping Azriel. He reached for one of his wings before Azriel could stop him, slicing with a knife held in his hands. The pain was white hot like a branding iron was taken to his flesh and his mind. He couldn’t help but jerk away, causing the metal rings to clank loudly overhead.

“I guess what I heard was true,” Gunnar said, watching red blood streak down the onyx wings. “Would they grow back if I cut them off?”

Azriel’s heart splattered at his feet. No, they wouldn’t. If Gunnar ordered his men to cut Azriel’s wings at the root, he’d spend the rest of his life without them, wishing he did. The thought of being an Illyrian without wings—of the disgrace—made bile pool in his stomach. Before that moment, Azriel hadn’t been afraid, only angry.

But now he was scared. Losing his wings was worse than death. For the first time in his life, Azriel was tempted to beg—to plead. 

And still, he refused. 

“I’ll need a bigger knife,” Gunnar mused, looking at the rather pathetic blade in his hand. “Maybe yours?”

Nothing. Azriel didn’t care if Gunnar had truthteller, didn’t care if he decided to hack at Azriel’s wings. He focused himself with the reminder that if Rhys knew what was happening, he’d be coming. And the moment Rhys and Cassian and Feyre and Nesta descended on this place, they’d leave it in ruin. They would come.

They would come. 

Even for him. Even though he didn’t deserve it, even though he’d made a mess of everything. Azriel lifted his chin and squared his shoulders, willing his traitorous heart to slow. 

“You could avoid all this, of course,” Gunnar continued, ever reasonable even with Azriel’s blood splattered against his clothes. “Tell me where your female companion has gone.”

Azriel nodded his head, beckoning for the king to come closer. Gunnar did—the utter fool. Azriel couldn’t help his laugh when he smashed his face against Gunnar’s, forehead colliding with the kings very fragile, very breakable nose. Gunnar swore, stumbling back with one hand covering the injury as Azriel threw his head back in a hoarse laugh. 

He’d die before he told the Montessere royals anything about Gwyn. 

“You’ll regret that, brute,” Gunnar snarled, beckoning for the heavy door to be opened. Azriel let his laugh trail after the king like one of his shadows, silenced only when the heavy, iron door slammed shut behind him. Mercifully, Azriel was alone.

He counted in his head, forcing himself to go slow even when he wanted to race through the numbers and free himself. He wasn’t going to show his hand only to end up shackled all over again. When he emerged, it would be like death itself.

And Azriel’s retribution would be vicious in its intensity. 

No one came by the time he finished.

“Now,” he whispered to his shadows. They darted and swirled around him, slipping through the cracks of the locks holding him. He heard them whispering to each other before the locks clicked and he was freed, knees buckling beneath the full weight of his body. It was tempting to sink to the floor and regain himself and Azriel knew if he did, he might not get back up.

All he wanted was to sleep. His wing burned from the wound, still knitting itself together. He’d be able to fly on it, but it would be excruciating. Telling himself he’d suffered far worse, Azriel pushed his way into the dungeon to follow the sounds of pleadings and screams. Helion might have been content to leave this female behind, but Azriel was not. 

“Cover me,” he murmured, fading into the darkness as his shadows obscured his form. All Azriel would allow himself to focus on was escape, forcing him to push all thoughts of Gwyn aside. She would be fine, he told himself. He’d trained her well. And still, fear tried to grip his heart, icy cold and unyielding. She’d suffered enough and he’d sworn no more harm would come to her.

He’d failed her already. No wonder she couldn’t feel the bond between them. Maybe she recognized she deserved better than a male that couldn’t even keep her safe. Shaking his head, Azriel banished the thought. There would be time enough for her to break their mating bond but for now, she was stuck with him whether she liked him or not. All he needed to do was get out and find her—and bring her home.

But first, a little bloody revenge. Peering into the other holding cell, Azriel found the blonde hanging from the chains by her wrists, blood pooled around the white of her dress. She was merely whispering, “please stop,” over and over through raw, chapped lips. Even Azriel would have quit by then, satisfied she knew nothing of use. Now they cut at her simply for the sake of hurting her—a lazy brutality Azriel couldn’t abide by. 

He didn’t need his dagger to kill the three males inside. All Azriel needed was his own hands, darting from the shadows to rip open their throats in a violent display of fury. The Day Court female didn’t scream, lifting her head to watch with what he swore was approval. Perhaps this was revenge for her, too—though in truth, Azriel only thought of his own anger, his own retribution. 

“We need to go,” Azriel told her once three headless bodies lay broken at his feet. He didn’t dare look at the heads, uninterested in seeing the bloody pulp that remained. There was enough tissue splattered against the wall, besides. No one would be getting up anytime soon.

“Arina,” she whispered, crumpling into his arms once she’d been freed. Azriel merely hauled her up against his chest, undeterred by her weakness. He merely strode out, snatching up his dagger from a nearby table as he did. It was almost laughable how easy it was to get outside, slipping through a servants door in the wall straight into a courtyard. 

Of course, the sight of the pair of them sent everyone into a frenzy, but Azriel was as quick as he’d ever been. Groaning slightly, he kicked off the ground before anyone got within a hundred yards of him, airborne before they could scramble for arrows. He’d told himself he was prepared for the pain, for the strain his injured wing felt beneath their combined weights.

He needed only to get far enough away he could winnow. 

“You’re falling!” Arina cried, arms around his neck.

“Stop talking,” Azriel ordered, aware his voice sounded disoriented. With his vision blurred at the edges, Azriel took them higher into the clouds, blinking against the blinding sun overhead. Wind pushed them along, helped by the female he carried. He wanted to thank her for blowing it against his dripping face but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth.

They weren’t going to make it. 

Screwing up his face, Azriel thought of home. He thought of Rhys and Cassian drinking on the steps to the River House, laughing in a heap over some inappropriate joke. He saw Feyre holding Nyx who fisted at her hair, a smudge of blue paint on her cheek. Mor was there, grinning ear to ear while Amren scowled, telling Mor of all the ways he, Cass, and Rhys had been a disappointment in recent days.  He saw Nesta sitting just inside, one leg crossed while the other bounced, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

And he saw Gwyn, perched on the edge of Nesta’s chair, talking a million miles a minute to Emerie, who was seemingly the only person in the world who could understand every word spilling from her lips.

Home. Azriel thought about home. 

Take me home.

Shadow enveloped them both, sending them careening wildly before they collapsed against grass in a graceless heap. Blinking, Azriel recognized the hazy mountains half hidden in fog in the distance. And he recognized the female voice crying his name.

“Azriel,” Feyre cried, her soft hands touching his face. “Get Rhys—bring me the High Lord—!”

Her words blurred along with his vision and try as he might, Azriel couldn’t get any of the words out. He could feel her soft presence in his mind, could hear her speaking to him.

Show me what happened, Az, Feyre murmured lovingly, fingers still caressing his cheek.  Let me in.

Rhys would have merely shattered Azriel’s defenses but Feyre, ever cognizant of what it felt like to have no choice at all. She’d let him take his secrets to the grave if he wanted and would have advocated for Rhys to leave him be, as she’d done so many times before. Azriel let her in gratefully, rolling onto his back while Feyre pressed something wet to his lips.

It was blood. 

He tried to push her away but the High Lady ordered, “Drink,” and Azriel’s body complied before he could balk. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Azriel remembered her blood was the very same that ran through Thesan and Feyre was trying to heal him. He was too focused by her presence in his mind, flipping through the day's events frantically. 

“It doesn’t make sense,” she whispered just as she stumbled into Azriel’s memories with Gwyn. He snarled without meaning to, elicting a louder, angrier roar from the descending High Lord.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Feyre breathed as Rhys dropped to his knees beside them. “I should have—oh, but Az that’s so wonderful—I should have asked first, I didn’t know, didn’t think…”

“I want her back,” Azriel whispered, his consciousness fading. Forcing himself to look Feyre in the eye, Azriel said, “I want her back.”

It was the last thing he remembered.

GWYN:

“You don’t have to do this, Eris,” Gwyn said for what must have been the millionth time that day. “Just let me go. I won’t tell anyone anything.”

“Liar,” Eris replied smoothly, fingers grazing the small of her back as he pushed her forward. 

“You’ll regret this,” she warned, certain Azriel must be awake by then. Was he looking for her? Did he even care? 

Yes, she thought firmly. Even if he didn’t know what she was to him, Gwyn was certain her disappearance would matter to him. Even if his only fear centered around Nesta’s fury, Gwyn believed Azriel would come for her.

“You’re not the only one with loved ones on the line. The easier you make this, the faster we can  be done with the entire thing,” Eris warned, stopping her before two massive, wooden doors carved with an image of a terrifying dragon bellowing fire. The Vanserra crest? She couldn’t ask Eris, though she wouldn’t have even if she’d had the time. The only thing Gwyn wanted to ask Eris was where his heart—if he had one—was so she could rip it from his chest and shove it down his throat. 

Eris was bringing her to Beron Vanserra. Seated atop a massive, hollowed out oak tree, the High Lord of Autumn was a terrifying sight. The rest of his sons stood just beside him, stairstepped in height leading up to the dais their father was perched atop. The Lady of Autumn sat beside him in a smaller, less ostentatious throne and crowned in burnished leaves wrapped around her pretty, auburn hair.

She leaned forward when Gwyn was pushed in, russet eyes shining. Gwyn searched her features for a moment, looking for anything of Catrin only to be left wholly empty. Their mother had always said Catrin came from Spring—moody and turbulent—and Gwyn from Autumn—firey and brash. She could see herself in the Lady of Autumn which did nothing to temper the fear running rampant through her.

Beron Vanserra didn’t move when Gwyn arrived at the foot of the dais. She wasn’t so rebellious she couldn’t bow, a show of self-preservation rather than deference. Eris’ knee hit the wood floor beneath them, eyes averted while Gwyn remained on her feet.

Rhysand was her High Lord—there was no law that said she was required to reside where her ancestors had, and no law that forced her to acknowledge a foreign High Lord as her own. Beron must have wondered, too, because he barked out, “Kneel.” The punch of magic made her chest ache though Gwyn was able to withstand the onslaught and remain as she was. 

“Why am I here?” she asked, terrified to look up.

“My sister,” the Lady of Autumn breathed to the room of Vanserra’s, “had a son.”

Gwyn only sighed. 

“He died in the war,” the Lady continued, her voice rich with her regret. “They all did. I thought they’d all been lost and then Eris said…”

Gwyn dared to look up at her, wishing this could be a happier reunion. All she could think about was Azriel—did he think she’d left him? That the night they’d spent together meant nothing to her and she was merely bored? The fear she might hurt him clawed at her chest, making her desperate to return to him. Maybe once things were settled on the continent and with her mate, she could return to Autumn and sort the entire mess of her lineage out. 

“You’re certain she was Cyra’s?” Beron Vanserra asked his wife, his voice softening around the edges.

“I’m certain.”

“Then she stays,” Beron announced, not bothering to consult with Gwyn at all. A scream all but erupted in her throat, swallowed when Eris’s hand snaked beneath her dress to squeeze her ankle in warning. Shut up, he warned silently. Gwyn did as she was told, daring to look up at the High Lord. “At least until we can make a proper exchange for her. Give her comfortable accommodations and instruct her on how females conduct themselves within the walls of the Forest House.”

And that was that. Gwyn was swept out of the room by Eris, fingertips pressed into the small of her back. Neither of them spoke until they were back in the hall, and when Gwyn attempted to tell Eris where he could shove his hospitality, he said, “Watch your mouth.”

“You don’t know what I was going to say,” she replied, petulant and frustrated. 

“I know that look on your face,” Eris replied smoothly, running a hand through his perfect hair. “You should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you for what? Kidnapping me? Holding me captive while you try and hold your brother captive? Rhysand will never—”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Eris hissed as they passed a group of silent courtiers, all staring at the pair. Fine, she thought, privately seething. Gwyn said nothing until Eris all but shoved her into a bed chamber she didn’t bother observing. All she saw was a glass door leading toward the woods and the escape route she’d take the moment Eris stopped talking. 

“You can’t say whatever you want here. People are listening,” he told her, fingers curled around her upper arm as he led her deeper into the room. “You can do nothing but sit here and wait. If you do what I know you’re thinking about, twelve dogs will rip you to pieces before you ever get close to another Court's borders. There won’t be enough pieces to burn.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Gwyn threatened, rounding on him.

“You can get the fuck in line,” Eris retorted hotly, cheeks flushed red with anger. “I’ll be dead before you ever get your turn. I saved you from the wrath of Montessere.”

“Why?”

Eris merely stared her down. “My reasons are my own. There is no where to go—”

“When Azriel finds out—”

“He can get in line, too. Right behind you,” Eris all but snarled, turning his head angrily. “I left things behind, too. People I—” he took a breath rather than betray himself. “All in due time.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t care,” Eris replied in that irritating way of his. “If you make me chase you down tonight, you’ll live to regret it—”

“No, Eris Vanserra, you will live to regret bringing me here,” she retorted, rising to her full height. It didn’t intimidate him in the slightest but Gwyn meant every word she said. She had never bowed before the whims of more powerful men, even if it meant endangering her own life. She wasn’t about to start now, either. Eris had taken it upon himself to get her out, but Gwyn needed to go back. She needed to get Azriel and she needed answers.

What had that creature been? There had been no time to truly think about it given how quickly everything happened and yet Gwyn knew she was close. It had been that damn Day Court scholars fault, really—if she hadn’t stolen Gwyn’s cipher, Gwyn would have gotten back into bed with Azriel and everything would be fine.

Maybe even Kai would be alive. 

“I already regret bringing you here,” Eris grumbled, turning his back on her. “Don’t try and leave, Gwyn. I swear to the Mother above, you will not make it out alive and I do not want problems with Night.”

Eris turned to leave, confident he’d gotten the last word. Gwyn wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Eris didn’t know to be afraid of her—yet. But she knew he was afraid.

“He’s my mate,” she whispered, delighted when Eris froze, his whole body going taut. “And when he finds you…”

Gwyn didn’t need to say. Eris merely glanced over his shoulder, strange look on his face. “Then he knows how I feel right now.” Eris still got the last word, cryptic as it was. Gwyn didn’t have it in her to care, either. Whatever inner turmoil he had wasn’t her problem. Maybe she would have cared had he come to her as a cousin interested in reconnecting rather than kidnapping her. Gwyn merely waited, deciding she’d do what Eris had warned her not to, and make a break for it.

Pacing, Gwyn waited for the sun to set. She ignored servants who slipped in and out, turning down her bed and fussing with her clothes and hair in an attempt to make her look nice. Gwyn was impatient with the whole affair—how did people like Eris stand it? She imagined this was the life Nesta had once been used to. Gwyn could picture imperious Nesta here, looking down her nose at everyone and making even the terrible Eris Vanserra shake in his expensive, polished boots.

No one had ever waited on her hand and foot—she’d always been responsible for herself. As nice as it would have been to be doted on, she didn’t think she could stand a lifetime of people bowing and scraping. 

The moment the moon replaced the sun, Gwyn yanked open the door that led outside. Cool air curled around her face, the smell of it all wrong. Perhaps her grandfather had lived here, and some memory of this place lingered in her blood. It wasn’t strong enough to make her want to stay, or to feel like home. She felt like an intruder, an outsider trapped among the rot. She was a shadow among the leaves, ancient among new death. 

And she wasn’t alone. Gwyn made it to the treeline with massive wings spread themselves out, blotting out the sliver of moonlight spilling among the grass.

Emerie grinned at her as Nesta appeared, sword casual over her shoulder. “Heard you needed a rescue.”

Gwyn’s relief was palpable. “You found me.”

“Did you doubt us?” Nesta asked, pulling Gwyn into a hug. 

“Never,” Gwyn said, blinking rapidly against the hard leather covering Nesta’s shoulder. “But I was starting to worry.”

“Well, cast your worries aside because the cavalry has arrived,” Emerie said, resting her chin atop Gwyn’s head. 

“Will you take me home?” Gwyn asked them.

Emerie and Nesta held out their hands and Gwyn took them like a lifeline.

“Let’s go.”