#can you not tell that i am already finding it difficult to adjust to him?

[karela-jamun]

to the girls who have learnt to love and leave like a man, who have disturbing avoidant attachment styles, who get panicked at the thought of being known and loved, who feel like they will never be enough for someone, whose final act of love is leaving the person because they feel that said person deserves better than them, to the girls who never give a reason, who never let others get close to them while simultaneously craving that closeness, to the jo marches and champagne problem girls, to the girls who have learnt to be alone so much that now they find a comfort in their loneliness, to those who always push people away because they know they will eventually hurt everyone, to the inherently unlovable girls, to those who find it strange when others show care for them; respectfully, please stop copying me.

[parkerslatte]

The Purest Kind of Love || Part Three

Azriel x Fem!Reader x Eris Vanserra

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: murder attempt. minor panic attack.

Summary: Eris Vanserra arrives at the Night Court to discuss trade deals, alliances and anything that would benefit him as High Lord. During a meeting, things go south quite quickly.

The Purest Kind of Love Masterlist

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

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•••

Weeks had passed since Y/N had felt that damned bond snap with Eris Vanserra. There were days where the bond was faint, as if it no longer existed but on others, she felt a strong pull, barely able to resist it. Concentrating on her work on those particular days was beginning to get increasingly difficult. All of her work had been conducted from her own cottage, she hadn’t given anything to Rhys as of yet, their final conversation replaying in her mind. Anger coursed through her veins whenever she thought about it. If she saw Rhys’s face anytime soon she was sure she was going to connect her palm to it. 

Y/N hadn’t seen anyone from the Inner Circle since the day after Eris’s celebration. For once, she was not sure about how they would react to the news of her new mating bond– assuming Azriel had already told them. She knew that there would be a few angry faces amongst the group, Mor’s especially.

With a sigh Y/N pulled away from her open notebook, rubbing her eyes. The words she had written had only begun to blur together. Her concentration had only begun to slip once again. It didn’t help that she could still faintly smell Azriel’s scent. Many of his clothes were still within her cottage, he hadn’t come to collect them yet. There were many times where Y/N had considered returning them to him herself but just the thought of returning the only things that held his scent made her heart sting. She also wanted to give him the space that he requested. 

A knock sounded through the cottage and Y/N perked up. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in weeks– she probably hadn’t even spoken aloud in weeks. She stood to her feet and walked the short distance from her office to the front door and opened it wide. The beaming face of Mor stood on the other side. 

“Mor?” Y/N said, surprised to see her. 

“Are you happy to see me?” she asked. “Because I am happy to see you. It’s been weeks since I have even heard from you.”

Y/N laughed nervously. “I’ve been busy with my work.”

Mor hummed, as if she didn’t believe it. Thankfully she didn’t call Y/N out on it. Mor held up a letter in her hand. “This came for you a few days ago. I thought Azriel would have delivered it to you but I haven’t seen him around either.”

Oh, Y/N thought. Mor didn’t know. 

“I haven’t seen Azriel either,” Y/N said, her voice sad. “Our relationship ended, Mor.”

Surprise lit up Mor’s face. “You split up?”

Y/N nodded. “A few weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Mor said, gesturing to Y/N to sit down. “How are you?”

“Honestly, I am finding it hard,” Y/N said. “Having someone beside you for years and then they are suddenly gone is certainly an adjustment. I still have some of his clothes here.”

“I can take them to him for you–”

“No,” Y/N cut her off. She cleared her throat. “No, it’s okay. I’ll send them to him soon.”

Mor nodded and handed Y/N the letter. “I’m unsure of who it is from as there was no name given.”

The writing on the letter was exquisite and beautiful and was a piece of artwork within itself. It was much better than the fast scrawl that filled Y/N’s notebooks. 

“As much as I would love to stay here with you, Emerie and I planned our own trip to visit the Day Court,” Mor said. 

“It’s okay,” Y/N said, her eyes snapping up from the letter. “Enjoy yourselves.”

A small smile toyed at Mor’s lips. “We will, I’ll tell her you said hell0.”

A long hug and another goodbye, Mor was gone, leaving Y/N alone in her cottage once more. 

***

The letter sat on the table unopened. A wax seal on the back of the letter clearly indicated who it was from. The wax was a near perfect match of the sender's eyes. Not that Y/N would recognise them immediately of course. 

Why would Eris send me a letter? Y/N thought.

As she took the letter back in her hands, Y/N contemplated opening it. As much as she liked to believe the stories that depicted Eris as a terrible male, Y/N personally didn’t see it. They had only shared a dance and a few conversations together but for some reason she could see that careful constructed mask he hides behind. It had slipped just before he left her room the morning after his celebration. Somehow she believed that her whole family was wrong about him. 

Y/N carefully broke the seal of the letter and took the parchment out. It faintly smelt of a crackling fire. Y/N couldn’t help but breathe it in. Once the letter was unfolded, it was written in the same delicate handwriting that was on the front. It was shorter than Y/N was expecting. She began to read.

—----

Dear Y/N, 

I am currently on a tour around Prythian to work out trade deals and build stronger relationships between my court and others and hopefully fix all the hurt my father caused. I only have two stops to go before I finish this little task of mine; Night and Winter. Due to circumstances in the Winter Court, I would need to visit the Night Court first. 

Now this is where my problem resides. The Night Court is your home and I do not wish to intrude. It is true that we have a mating bond between us and it is true that it connects our souls. Though I do not wish for you to be uncomfortable in your own home. If you truly feel uncomfortable with me being in your home court, I can conduct my business from my home in Autumn. 

If you wish for me to stay in Autumn, don’t open this letter. 

If you wish for me to come to Night, open this letter–

—----

Y/N stopped reading as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. Though she couldn’t help the laugh that slipped past her lips. The nerve of him, Y/N thought. Though he did bring a genuine smile to her lips for the first time in weeks. 

Truthfully, Y/N wouldn’t mind for him to come to the Night Court. If she did feel uncomfortable in his presence, she would simply stay away. Even with the mating bond’s desperate attempts to pull her closer. Saoise cast her eyes back down to the letter. 

—----

It may be obvious to you now that I am indeed on my way to the Night Court, depending on when you read this, I might already be there now. But I am being serious when I say that if you truly are uncomfortable with me around, happily tell me and I will be gone before you even have the chance to blink. 

I hope this letter finds you well. 

Your mate

Kind regards, 

Eris Vanserra, High Lord of Autumn

—----

The smile tugged at the corner of Y/N’s mouth and she consciously removed it. She folded the letter and placed it back in its envelope, tucking it away in the drawer under the table. There was a possibility that Eris was already in the Night Court. The thought made her chest contort, nerves itching. She shouldn’t feel nervous. Eris was her mate and she knew how to handle him, evident from the dance they shared. 

Perhaps the reason Mor and Emerie were going to spend some time in the Day Court was because of Eris’s arrival. Why hadn’t anyone told her about it? Despite how Rhys might not think of her as part of his family, she was still a member of the Inner Circle whether he liked it or not. Her research was a large part of what kept the court running and kept people safe, even if Rhys deemed them not worth saving like the people in Hewn City. Y/N would go out of her way to warn him about possible dangers that target the area. 

If Eris was meant to be arriving at the Night Court, she should have been informed of it. Perhaps he hadn’t arrived yet and that was the reason. Though deep down, Y/N already knew that both Rhys and Cassian would choose Azriel’s comfort over her. If Azriel didn’t want to be within a certain distance of her, Rhys and Cassian would do all they could to make it happen. 

Y/N closed the drawer containing the letter from Eris and returned to her research, her mind becoming consumed. 

***

A whole day had passed and Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about the letter Eris had sent. By her estimations, he should have already been in the Night Court for at least No one had reached out to her. Even Eris, which Y/N hated to admit, disappointed her a little. The work she had been doing had been completed and Y/N had felt fidgety. For the majority of her work, she would assign herself jobs but Rhys did task her with conducting research for him. She had completed it all and had no motivation to do any of her own. 

The hot mug in Y/N’s hand was placed upon the table as she walked over to the front door. Being trapped in the cottage where Azriel’s scent still lingered was not doing her any good. 

Y/N swung the door open and a surprised Cassian stood just down the cobblestone pathway. A frown found its way onto Y/N’s face. 

“What are you doing here, Cassian?” Y/N asked.

Cassian chuckled nervously. “So I don’t get a hug of greeting?”

Y/N folded her arms across her chest. “No I don’t believe you will. Why are you here?”

Cassian sighed. “Eris is meeting with Rhys and the rest of us to discuss some trade deals and to strengthen his alliance with us.”

“And Rhys is the one who assigned you to get me?” Y/N asked.

“No,” Cassian answered and Y/N’s heart sank. If it wasn’t clear by her last conversation with Rhys, it was evident now that he didn’t even view Y/N as part of his Inner Circle. “It was actually Azriel who demanded that you be there as part of the Inner Circle.”

Surprise filled Y/N’s eyes. “Azriel demanded it?”

“He threatened to not attend the meeting himself if you weren’t there,” Cassian explained. 

Somehow that made Y/N feel worse. 

***

The tension in the room was thick and it only amused Eris to his core. While everyone around him was alert, he casually lounged in his chair, waiting for the meeting to begin. He wasn’t told the reason for the delay but he had noticed that both of the Illyrian warriors were nowhere to be seen. 

Rhysand sat at the head of the table with Fere by his side, a clear sense of who was actually in power. The smaller fae with short black hair, Eris hadn’t ever bothered to know her name, sat to his right, her piercing gaze never leaving him for a second. 

It had only been a matter of hours since Eris had been welcomed into the Night Court and he had yet to leave this very room. If he were to be confined for the week he was meant to be staying, Eris was sure that he would go insane. Despite his dislike towards certain members of Rhysand’s Inner Circle and the Night Court itself, Eris did have to admit that what he had seen of Velaris had been rather beautiful. 

The door to the room opened, cutting through the silence. The shadowsinger stepped inside, eyes full of carefully concealed rage. Eris watched his movements carefully as he slowly pulled out of the chair opposite him and took a seat, wings tucked tightly into his back, shadows restlessly moving over his shoulders. Just from the look of him, Eris could tell that he was finding it hard to keep his emotions in check. Perfect, Eris thought. 

Two more figures entered the room soon after. The first was Cassian, probably the only member of the Inner Circle who Eris could have a semi-pleasant conversation with. Stepping in after him however was the person who made his chest ache deliciously. 

That pull that Eris had tried his best to ignore the past few weeks was now pulled taunt as his eyes met Y/N’s. She was just as beautiful as she looked at his celebration. The only difference was the dark circles under her eyes. It was clear that she hadn’t been sleeping and Eris wanted to know the reason why. Perhaps he could do something to help her. But what if the reason she was losing sleep was because of him?

The stories the Inner Circle must have told her about him were certainly not pleasant. What if she was kept awake at night after finding out that she was mated to such a diabolical male. After all, that is what he wanted everyone to think when his father was alive. But knowing that Y/N most likely thought that way about him– that filled Eris with a sadness that was foreign to him. 

The chair next to Eris was pulled out and Y/N slowly sat down and shuffled the chair back in, her hands folded in her lap. 

“Now that everyone is here,” Rhysand began, his eyes lingering on Y/N for a brief moment and in that moment Eris fought the urge to reach across the table and connect his fist with his face. “I would firstly like to set some rules for this meeting.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “Rules? Are these rules for me or for you brainless servants?” Eris said, gesturing to Azriel and Cassian. Eris’s gaze fixated on Azriel. The shadowsinger’s gaze was locked on Eris and it seemed as if that he had no intention of looking away. “And if I may be completely honest. All of you are terrible hosts, locking me in a room with surveillance for hours, no offer of a drink or food. When I had my meeting with Helion, we had already discussed what we needed to and were sharing a bottle of wine on the balcony.”

The smile that spread across Rhysands face was nothing short of malicious. “My apologies, Eris. Would you like a glass of my finest wine?”

 “Absolutely not,” Eris replied, leaning back in his chair. “I wouldn’t put it past you to poison my glass.” Eris’s gaze slowly shifted to Y/N whose gaze was cast to the table. “Except Y/N here. Unlike all of you, she seemes to have her head actually screwed on.”

The shadows resting on Azriel’s shoulders moved around his body, seemingly readying to strike Eris at any moment– Eris simply ignored him. Y/N’s head lifted and looked at Eris and when their eyes locked once more, Eris couldn’t help the small twitch of the corner of his mouth. Y/N seemed to notice it as the corner of her mouth twitched too. The pull only became stronger. 

Clearing his throat, Eris turned to face Azriel who still hadn’t looked away from him, a burning hatred resided in his eyes. Eris smirked. “Are you jealous, Azriel? That I can get a female to smile at me while you simply pine from afar, struggling to gain even the smallest bit of affection. It's quite sad really.”

The shadows that rested upon Azriel’s shoulders reached out to Eris and the fury in Azriel’s eyes grew. Eris knew that he had touched a nerve. 

“Stop with the threatening look, Azriel. How do you ever wish to seduce anyone into your bed with an aura of murder surrounding you. No wonder you’ve been alone for centuries,” Eris said, casually crossing one leg over the other. 

Shadows wrapped around Eris’s throat and most air was cut off. The feeling of the tightness around his throat made Eris immediately panic. Azriel loomed over Eris as everyone around them tried to stop what was occurring. 

“Azriel,” Rhysand warned. “Stop this. You know what will happen if you harm him.”

“I don’t care,” Azriel growled. 

“Az,” Cassian said, placing a hand on the shadowisnger’s shoulder. Azriel just shrugged it off. “You need to stop.”

“Stop this!” Feyre demanded, looking between Eris and Azriel. 

“Azriel!” Y/N snapped. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

For the first time since he entered the room, Azriel looked away from Eris and to Y/N. The tightness around his throat faltered but there was still no way for Eris to escape. He clawed at his throat but his hands only clawed at his skin. 

“Let him go now,” Y/N said, her voice dangerous. 

The shaowingers eyes found Eris’s again and the shadows tightened as if it were instinctual, as if they were connected to his emotions. It was beginning to get harder and harder to breathe. Eris desperately tried to claw at his neck again but it only made him scratch his own skin more, this time drawing blood. 

As he began to feel fainter and fainter, Eris couldn’t stop the rising panic within him. It was almost as if he could feel the ghost of his fathers hand wrapping around his neck. Eris scratched at his neck even more and drew more blood, desperate to breathe again. Black spots clouded his vision and all attempts from the Inner Circle to get Azriel to stop fell on deaf ears. 

“Azriel, please stop,” Y/N pleaded and Eris felt gentle hands rest on his shoulder. It was the only thing that grounded him against visions of his father looking over him with his hand around his neck. 

“Stop…” Eris begged Azriel. 

Something within Azriel’s eyes seemed to snap him back to reality as the shadows recoiled from Eris as if he had burnt them. They rested on Azriel’s shoulders before shrinking away entirely. Stumbling back, Azriel blinked as Eris’s chest heaved up and down, slowly getting air back into his lungs. 

“Azriel…” Y/N was the first to speak, a hint of disappointment in her tone. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Azriel said before he swiftly left the room. 

Eris continued to breathe heavily as Y/N’s hands remained on his shoulders. He wanted to shrink into her touch. Just feeling all eyes on him made him want to hide– he was too exposed, too vulnerable. Eris never wanted to feel that way again. 

“Why don’t we finish this meeting tomorrow once everything has calmed down?” Feyre suggested, looking at the blood smeared on Eris’s neck. 

“That would be a smart idea, Feyre darling,” Rhysand said. “Cassian, you can escort Eris to–”

“I will do it,” Y/N said firmly. “I don’t think he wants to be around any of you right now.”

Eris closed his eyes and allowed his body to slump against the chair as he tried to even out his breathing, nothing seemed to work. 

“But–” Rhysand began.

“I will take him to his room,” Y/N said, sending a glare Rhysand’s way. “Do you have a problem with that, Rhys?”

Rhysand studied Y/N for a moment, his eyes lingering on where her hands were gently holding onto Eris’s shoulders. He slowly nodded. “Of course not, Y/N. Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere anacompanied.”

 “I’m not a prisoner, Rhysand,” Eris said quietly. 

There was no reply as the footsteps of the Inner Circle slowly grew quieter as they all left the room until only Y/N and Eris remained. Eris’s chest still heaved up and down as his breathing still hadn't returned to normal. Beron’s phantom hands were still wrapped around his throat. 

“Let me clean that away,” Y/N said quietly, procuring a small cloth from thin air. 

When his eyes met Y/N’s, they were filled with concern as she looked at his neck. Eris didn’t want to know what it looked like. 

“I can clean it myself,” Eris mumbled, taking the rag from Y/N’s hands. 

A simple nod was her response. The scratches on his neck were already beginning to heal as Eris wiped the blood away, the previously white cloth now crimson. 

“Do you wish to return to your room?” Y/N asked. 

Eris chuckled, no humour behind it. “I’d rather not be concealed in a small room right now.”

The two sat together alone in the room until Eris’s breathing had evened out. The phantom hand still remained but the panic within his body was washed away. Almost immediately, a switch flipped in Eris as he turned to Y/N. The facade he put on lit up his face once more. 

“Well, why don’t you show me around Velaris? I’m sure someone as beautiful as you knows where the stunning sights are,” Eris suggested, a smirk toying at his lips. 

Y/N frowned, immediately seeing through the facade. “Cut the bullshit, Eris. You can parade this fake attitude to everyone else but not me.” A gentler expression replaced her frown. “You…are my mate. You don’t need to hide your true self away from me.”

Slowly but surely, the smirk fell from Eris’s face. “Mate? That is the first time I have heard you admit that aloud.”

“We have only had one conversation since it snapped,” Y/N said, an amused tone filling her voice. 

Eris huffed out a laugh, looking down at the blood stained cloth in his hand. “That is true. But it still feels…surreal that someone is telling me that I am their mate.”

Y/N sighed. “It is strange for me too. If a mating bond did snap for me, I thought it would be with…someone else.”

Eris raised an eyebrow. “And that someone is?”

A saddened expression fell upon Y/N’s face and Eris immediately regretted asking. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“I apologise for asking,” Eris said, throwing the bloodied cloth on the table. 

“Don’t apologise,” Y/N said firmly.

Eris nodded and slouched back in the chair, all sense of formality disappearing from his posture. If it were anyone else but Y/N in his presence, Eris wouldn’t be caught dead slouching in his chair, but he felt…comfortable. 

“Well, aren’t you going to take me to my prison– I mean room?” Eris said. 

Y/N smiled. “The rooms might not be as grand as the rooms in the Autumn Court, but I assure you that your room isn’t a prison. It was my old room, actually.”

Eris suddenly perked up. “Your old room?”

Y/N nodded. “It was always the nicest room and now it is used as a guest room as Nesta demandes to make guests feel comfortable when they stay here. There have been a lot of…strange guests over the past few years. And I wasn’t going to take you there anyway. You said you didn’t want to be concealed in a small room so I’m taking you out to see Velaris.”

Surprise filled Eris’s body. “You are letting me leave?”

“Despite what Rhys tells you, Eris. You can go anywhere you want unsupervised. I trust you. If Rhys wants to shout at anyone about it, send him my way,” said Y/N, standing to her feet. 

“Now come on,” Y/N said. “This beautiful female, as you like to put it, is going to show you some stunning sights.”

***

Despite the sun being high in the sky, it didn’t stop Y/N from shivering as they walked down the cobblestone streets. Some stopped and stared, clearly confused as to why the new High Lord of Autumn was walking through the streets of Velaris. Eris didn’t seem to care as he looked around, clearly taking in every small detail. 

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure what came over her when she suggested that she take Eris out in the city, all that she did know was that it had been instinctual to spend time with him. It wasn’t in her plans to get to know her mate, at least not so soon after her relationship with Azriel ended– but when Eris was clawing at his throat and Azriel loomed over him, she had the strong urge to protect him. There were still a few scratches that hadn’t healed yet from how deep Eris had scratched himself. 

“You’ve been shivering for the past hour,” Eris commented as he stopped to look in a window of a shop. 

“Unlike you, I don’t have fire coursing through my veins,” Y/N said, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. 

“If I had a jacket I would offer it to you,” Eris said, finally turning to her. He frowned once he noticed her thin dress for what seemed like the first time. 

“It's okay,” Y/N said with a wave of her hand. “I can return to my cottage to get a jacket, it isn’t too far away if you don’t mind the walk.”

Eris shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

With a nod, Y/N led them down the street and away from the shops. “You can stay here if you wish, I’m unsure how long I will be.”

“It’s fine,” Eris said. “If I am being honest, I do wish to see more of this city– don’t tell Rhysand I said that.”

Y/N nodded. “Don’t worry, I am unsure if Rhys and I are on speaking terms currently.”

“I am not prying you for an answer but if you would like to tell me, I am awaiting your answer eagerly– unfortunately for you, I do enjoy some gossip,” Eris replied. 

Y/N huffed a laugh. “Unfortunately for you, I will not be telling you. You may be my mate, Eris, but sharing personal conversations is not on the table yet.”

“Yet,” Eris smirked. 

“Sorry?” Y/N questioned. 

“You said ‘yet’,” Eris remarked. “So that means that one day you will tell me.”

“I–shut up,” Y/N said, pulling her arms closer to herself as a chill ran down her spine. 

A low chuckle emitted from Eris that sent pleasant shivers down Y/N’s spine. “My, my, just when we were getting along too.”

“Who said that we were getting along?” Y/N questioned, raising a brow.

“Well, you haven’t threatened to harm or kill me yet, so I am taking our brief relationship thus far as a successful one,”  Eris remarked. 

The two continued walking for a while longer in silence. Though it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence like Y/N expected, she was perfectly at ease. Eris seemed to be keen on taking in his surroundings as they walked down the cobblestone street. Y/N nearly slipped a few times when her attention fixated on Eris for a moment too long so she missed where the stone was raised higher than the others, thus causing her to trip. Whenever she did, Eris huffed out a small laugh. 

“May I ask you a question?” Y/N questioned suddenly after a long silence. The question she wanted to ask was burned onto her tongue. 

“Depends what the question is,” Eris answered with a raised eyebrow. 

“That letter you sent me,” Saoirs began and Eris laughed. “Why didn’t you give me a choice if you were going to come here regardless.”

“Oh Y/N,” Eris said, her name flowing from his lips like a beautiful poem. “You are mistaken, I did give you a choice.”

Y/N laughed. “A choice? You said in your letter that if I was comfortable with you coming to my home, I should open the letter– how would I even know what the letter contained or who the letter was from if I didn’t open it?”

Eris glanced at her. “You knew who the letter was from as soon as you picked it up, didn’t you?”

“I might not have,” Y/N defended, folding her arms across her chest. 

“But you did,” Eris said. “And despite how little time we have spent together, I knew that you would have never opened that letter if you were uncomfortable with me. Am I correct?”

“No,” Y/N said, sending a small glare his way. She hated how correct he was. 

“Liar,” Eris whispered. 

Their faces were close as Y/N cleared her throat and turned away. “My cottage is just up this street.”

Seemingly snapping back into reality, Eris took a step back, clasping his hands behind his back. “You said that this walk wasn’t too far. You live quite far from the city.”

Y/N shrugged. “It’s a short walk for me. It helps me focus more on my work. When I used to live in the House of Wind with everyone, I could hardly focus on my work as I was interrupted almost every time I tried to get anything done.”

Despite the fact that her home had been her sanctuary for many years, always full of life and love– it now held an aura of sadness around it. Even though Y/N had lived in her cottage years before she and Azriel made their bargain, it was the place where they had started building their life together. Residing all over the cottage and land surrounding it held small reminders of the shadowsinger. His chair for instance, which allowed him to sit comfortably with his wings. The bed which Y/N had surprised him with once when she had noticed how much he had ached whenever he slept in her previous bed. The decorations Azriel had bought for her whenever he had business elsewhere. 

Y/N unlocked the door and stepped inside, Eris followed after. The room was cold, it had been ever since Azriel had left. But with Eris standing next to her there was a flicker of warmth that spread through the air. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” Y/N muttered, stepping away from Eris. 

There was no reply from Eris, or if he did reply, Y/N didn’t hear as she made her way to her bedroom. Only one side of the bed was slept in and the other was still perfectly made, she hadn’t wanted to move anything just yet, not while the scent of Azriel still lingered. Moving onto her wardrobe, Y/N pulled out a thick coat, trying her best to ignore Azriel’s hung up just beside hers. She needed to return it to him– just not yet. 

When she exited her bedroom, Y/N found Eris looking over the various decor pieces. She cleared her throat to announce her presence. It felt strange bringing Eris to her cottage, perhaps she should have left him in the city while she came back here alone. Despite the terms of their bargain, it felt wrong to bring Eris into the place where she had just begun to build a life with Azriel. Yet– the High Lord fit in well with her decor. 

“I’m ready to leave now,” Y/N said. 

“May I ask you a question now?” Eris said suddenly. 

“Depends what it is,” she answered, putting on her coat. 

“I don’t mean to pry while asking this question, but do you live with someone else in this cottage– the spymaster more specifically? His scent is blocking all my other senses,” Eris said, clasping his hands behind his back. 

The question wasn’t one Y/N was prepared for, of course she planned to tell Eris at some point but not so soon. But Eris was very perceptive and would know that she was lying if she denied his statement. With a sigh, Y/N nodded. “Yes he lived here with me– four years to be exact.”

“So at my celebration, the two of you were…together?” Eris questions. 

“We were, yes,” said Y/N honestly. 

“Ah, so that is why he was glaring at me for the entire length of the dance we shared,” Eris said. “But I cannot help but notice you are speaking in past tense about your relationship.”

“We are not together anymore,” Y/N said, the statement sending a pain through her heart. “That ended the night of your celebration.”

A guilty look washed over Eris’s face. “That wasn’t because of me, was it? Even though I do not like the shadowsinger, I do not wish to harm you in any way.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his sweet words but Y/N gave him a tight lipped smile. “The only reason why you are involved is because the mating bond snapped between us. Even if it snapped between me and anyone else that night, our relationship would have ended the same way at the same time.”

“You do not need to tell me if you don’t want to, Y/N,” Eris said earnestly. “I might act like a gossip, but most of the time, I do prefer staying far away from it.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said. “I would have eventually needed to tell you at some point. Four years ago, Azriel and I made a bargain. We were both so sick of being alone, everyone around us was happily mated and were starting families or already had one. At the time we thought it was an incredible idea. We would form a relationship with each other but if one of us were to ever find our mate, we would walk away from one another and our relationship would end. Realistically, we both never thought we would find our mates. We are both over five-hundred years old, if a bond would have snapped with anyone, then it would have snapped by then.”

“We lived together for four years, were steadily building a life together until–”

“Our bond snapped,” Eris finished. 

“Correct,” Y/N said. “That night when I told him, I was in so much pain because I tried to fight the terms of the bargain. I begged him to stay with me but we both knew that we couldn’t continue our relationship because sooner or later the bargain would have killed me. Azriel left me in that room the night and never came back. The meeting earlier was the first time I had seen him since.”

“That morning when I came to speak to you and you were upset,” said Eris, taking a hesitant step forward. “It was because of the bargain.”

Y/N nodded. “I didn’t mean to be snappy with you, I couldn’t help it.”

“I didn’t mean to provoke you that morning, if I did, I apologise,” Eris said before proceeding to let out a breathless chuckle. “It’s funny, that morning I wanted to see if you were okay and I was pacing outside of your room for nearly an hour trying to gain the courage to knock. I didn’t want to seem invasive.”

Saoise’s face clouded over in surprise. “You needed to pluck up the courage to do something? Colour me shocked.”

With a shake of his head, Eris laughed and the sound was beautiful. “Don't get too used to it, Y/N, I never back down from a challenge.”

“Except when it consists of asking someone if they are okay?” Y/N asked. 

“It was only because it was you– my mate– if it were any other member of your so-called ‘Inner Circle’, I don’t think I could have cared less,” Eris replied before his eyes suddenly turned serious. “There is still a lot that you don’t know about me, Y/N– and there is still a lot that I don’t know about you. I am not the monster that Rhysand and his lapdogs have made me out to be.”

Y/N took an unconscious step forward. “Believe it or not, Eris, I can already tell that you are not the male I have heard stories about.” 

At that statement, Eris’s face lit up and he seemed relieved. “If you are open to it, Y/N, would you mind getting to know one another? I know that we eventually need to address the glaring topic of our mating bond– but right now, I am asking as a friend. Because believe it or not– I don’t have many of those.”

Despite Y/N’s previous feelings about the guilt trailing down her spine at Eris standing in the home she had made with Azriel, she now thought he fit in perfectly with her belongings– even the ones Azriel had picked out. 

A bright smile stretched across Y/N’s face. “I would love that, Eris.”

Eris dipped his head in a nod. “I am glad to hear that, Y/N.”

As their conversation had progressed, Y/N now found herself standing barely an arms length away from Eris, it was as if the taunt bond between them had slowly pulled them closer. Slowly, she linked her arm with Eris’s, the warmth of his body seeping through her coat. 

“Now, there is a small tavern that I like just down the street from my cottage,” Y/N said as she led Eris to the front door. “If we are getting to know one another, we might as well do it over a few friendly drinks.”

As the door to her cottage shut behind them, Y/N couldn’t help the small weight lifted from her shoulders. Walking with Eris by her side eased her in a way she couldn’t describe. 

Though perhaps it was because of the faint scent of cedar mixing with a cracking fire.

Taglist:

@22hilda @lazypostfandomer @inkedinshadows @awkardnerd @azysmate @therealmoonstone @lets-talk-about-xyz @starryevermore @babypeapoddd @tothestarsandwhateverend @batboyrhyrhy @callsigns-haze @wildflowermooon @wildfloweroutlaw @acourtofbatboydreams @bookandtealover @queenoffeysand @the-sweet-psycho @the-starlight-way @curiosandcourioser @cheekym8s @honk4emoboyz @paleidiot @buckystevelove @that-girl-reading @readinggeeklmao @hextech-bros @scarsandallaz @paige0103 @k8r123-blog @asweetblueberry2 @bloodicka @eddsthemunson @fourthwing4ever @crypticme @that-one-bibliophole @lilah-asteria @sassybluebird @ninthcircleofprythian @imma-too-many-fandoms @happyt0exist @spiritualmooshroom @phoenix666stuff @imagoddessinmystories @sveretrice @stormieandateacup @impossibelle @opium-den @pit-and-the-pen @julesvanslutta @circe143

[emsdevs]

Bear and Bug 3: The Distance

a/n: Here is the much-awaited pt 3!! We have a feature from Jack and a glimpse into his friendship with Bug!! Enjoy :)

masterlist | bear and bug masterlist

It didn’t take Quinn long to get back in your good graces, and soon, it was like nothing had happened between you two at all, well, not exactly nothing. Calls between the two of you were significantly more lovey-dovey, and they always ended with a soft “I love you” from each of you, which would have never happened before. The biggest difference, though, was the intense longing you now had to see Quinn. He was right about you only spending time with Jack until it was basically too late, and now you feel like you wasted a lot of time that you could have spent with your new boyfriend. Quinn often assured you that it was okay. He’d promise that summer would come soon enough, and you could spend plenty of time together then. 

You couldn’t really believe him, though, because that directly conflicts with the most difficult part of your relationship. Neither of you have spoken a word about it to Quinn’s family, or yours for that matter, and Jack was at the top of the “not telling” list. You and Quinn had decided it was best to keep your romance to yourselves for the moment, not wanting to cause any drama if the distance didn’t work, so you’ve been biting your tongue on every phone call with Jack, trying to keep your mouth shut about it. If you were being honest, the guilt was starting to creep in. He was already having a really tough season, what would he think if he found out his best friend was dating his older brother behind his back? How much worse will it be if he finds out months from now? You weren’t really keen on keeping this secret from Jack in the first place. You two tell each other everything, so you knew he’d be hurt when he eventually found out. However, it was that fear of hurting him that kept you from letting him in. You didn’t want to add to the emotional turmoil he was already in. He had been calling you almost nightly at this point, crying and telling you that he wasn’t even sure he enjoyed hockey anymore. People had been calling him a bust all season, and it was getting to his head, making him wonder why New Jersey would draft him in the first place. After hearing how distraught he’s been all season, you knew you couldn’t add to that.

“I just don’t know what to do,” Jack sighed into the phone one night. “Am I even right for this team? Would I be right for any team?” his voice began to break.

“Jack, no,” you let out a breath, shocked that your confident, easy-going best friend was feeling down enough to doubt his talent, his skill. “I’ve known since we were kids that you were destined for the NHL. The skill that you have is amazing, not to mention the hockey knowledge you have and the way you can read a play. You just have to get adjusted. It’s a big thing to deal with, and the people who know you, the people who matter, aren’t blaming you or getting mad at you. It’ll come. I promise.”

“I guess,” he trailed off a little, still sounding kind of broken. “Can you just get my mind off of it, please? What’s going on with you? You talked to Quinner recently?”

Your eyes widen, grateful that he can’t see your face, “Uhh, yeah, we talked a couple days ago I guess. Why, um, why do you ask?”

“You guys just seemed close at the beginning of summer, and he mentioned something last year about you guys talking quite a bit while you were both at school,” his statement almost sounded like a question, curious as to why you sounded a little panicked. 

“Oh yeah,” you chuckled trying to sound more casual, “we did get kind of close then.”

“Yeah,” he dragged the word out a little, “so, um, anyway, how are your classes going?” Jack changed the topic, assuming you were acting weird because of stress or something similar. The phone carried on as they usually did, you spilling nonsense to distract Jack from his NHL stress and Jack gladly listening to whatever stories you have for him, grateful for the distraction.

Your calls with Quinn, however, weren’t always that happy anymore. It suddenly seemed like the calls weren’t enough, that neither of you could keep going on two-hour phone calls every other day. 

“Bug, I know it’s difficult, but you could at least act like you’re happy to talk to me,” Quinn was trying, really he was, but he needed you to put in a little effort too.

“I am excited to talk to you. I promise, Bear. I just,” you pause, knowing you’ve had this conversation too many times to count at this point, “I just really wish I could see you.”

Quinn sighs, knowing exactly how you feel, “I get that, I swear because I’m dying to see you again too, but I have no clue when that could happen until summer.”

“What’s your schedule like in December? I could come to Vancouver on my Christmas break,” you had been thinking this for a while, too scared to bring it up until right now.

“Well, we have a home stand right before Christmas. Could that work?” you already knew it could.

“I think so, yeah,” you breathed out a sigh of relief, happy Quinn agreed so easily.

“Okay, I’ll get you a plane ticket for the 16th.”

“Bear, no, I can get my own ticket,” you argued.

“Nonsense. I finally have an excuse to spend my money on my girlfriend. I’m gonna use it. I am wondering though, how are we gonna deal with Jack?” 

“I’ll just tell him I’m on a girls’ trip to Vancouver, so I won’t be able to Facetime, only call or text,” you answered, probably a little too quickly. You really already had all of this completely thought out.

“Okay yeah, and I can just keep you out of the screen if anyone Facetimes me,” Quinn agrees, already sounding happier knowing he’d get to see you in just a few weeks.

Two and a half weeks later, Quinn was picking you up from the airport in Vancouver. When you both got back to his apartment, it was like everything fell into place. After a much-needed reunion, and an even more needed nap, you helped Quinn make dinner. Before you knew it, your week with Quinn was almost up, and you’d be leaving the next day. The two of you were spending your last night together curled up on the couch watching cheesy romcoms. Halfway through “10 Things I Hate About You”, your thoughts got the better of you. 

“Bear?” you question softly, awaiting Quinn’s response. 

“Yeah, Bug?”

“We’ll be okay, right? Like we’ll be able to handle the distance and the secret?” you can’t help but let the doubts creep in. 

“Of course we will,” Quinn starts. “We just gotta remember the times like this when we can’t be in the same place. We can’t let the distance get to us, so we have to look forward to when we can be together. If we focus too much on how sad we are when we’re apart, we’ll never be able to be happy together. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does. I don’t know why I was worried anyway. As long as I’ve got you I’m good,” you lean up to place a kiss on his jawline. 

“Yeah, I’m good with you too, Bug,” he returned the action, kissing your forehead. 

It would all work out, eventually.

[n3kk1tty]

Imagine Singing an inappropriate German song in front of Nightcrawler.

Readers Mutant powers- Mechanical transfiguration. You can turn your body or manipulate machines into different kinds of machines/ weapon.

Night Crawler wants to get to know the reader but the reader suffers from social anxiety and is neurodivergent.

You were still pretty new to the mansion and though you tried your best to feel part of the team sometimes it was hard being the new recruit. It was especially hard to connect with some of the others as more often then not it felt like you stayed coped up with Hank geeking out over machines. This led to keeping to yourself outside of missions unless you were with Hank or being forced to discuss mechanical maintenance with Professor Xavier and Scott. Outside of those three it was your goal everyday to stay out of everyone else's way which didn't deter a certain group of them from trying desperately to befriend you.

This is what led to your now bizarre schedule which truly shouldn't overlap with everyone else's. Prep your meals early in the morning and take them to your mini fridge before anyone catches you then proceed with morning walk then training. This way there was no need for awkward conversations or worse forced social interaction between the extroverts. Rogue, Jubilee, Morph and the worse offender Nightcrawler. You were like a frightened dumpster cat they were trying desperately to befriend but there outgoing personality mixed with your introverted neurodivergent led to situations you dreaded as you never knew what to connect about.

It got so bad you jumped out a window before the group rounded a corner as they were trying to find you to go out somewhere. Hank of course scolded you for hiding out with him when they were having a man hunt again as he tried coaxing you out of the danger room computer system. " I know you're a little shy but I assure you (Y/n) they will adore you just like I do. I quite cherish our shared passions and friendship but making friends with your other teammates will be beneficial for you. " Hank sits at the computer chair staring at the hardware in front of him. "Nope. Nada. Not happening. " Your body slowly forms out of the mechanical hardware staring at your blue friend as he frowns.

" Hank. You understand that Kurt's teleporting alone randomly keeps my anxiety on edge. What happens if he knows where I'm at teleports in front of me and before I can even process it I've punched him across the room with a full force power punch. How will I ever look anyone in the face again. They will all think I did it on purpose and that I'm a newbie with a attitude problem, or even worse I'm not x-men material like Xavier thinks I am. " Hank sighs as like a mole you disappear back into the machine at the sound of the door opening. Jean walks in waving to Hank as she can already tell what's going on. Kurt had asked her a favor to use her telepathic powers to locate you which she had done but knew it would be better to give your location only if you wanted to be found.

"You know (Y/n) your a pretty hard person to find. Is there a reason your so difficult to locate outside of missions. " Silence hangs in the air. You don't dare make a sound but you know she knows you're here. It's not like you could hide your consciousness in the machine. Jean gently sighs sitting in the chair next to Hank. " It's okay I'm not mad. I just want to know why no one can find you. Truthfully your little fan club asked if I could locate you but I didn't want to give away your location if you didn't feel comfortable with it. I already know you asked Scott not to tell anyone else your schedule. I just want to make sure you're adjusting well and if there's anything I can do."

You don't dare to come out the machine but the gentleness of her voice helps lure a response out of your frightened form. " I just don't feel comfortable with the extroverts high energy. It feels like everyone's eyes are on me as the new person and I don't want to embarrass myself outside of missions. One on one I can handle the attention but all three at once it's just too much and I just shut down and panic. " Hank taps his pen against his check board. " (Y/n) has trouble understanding social cues at times and thanks to past rejections now has severe social anxiety thanks to it. She is worried that she won't say the right thing when she interacts with the others outside of missions."

Hank pats the control desk your body is currently absorbed to almost like he's patting a child's head. " This is why she's gone out of her way to avoid them. Which as you can tell Jean has led to where we are now with her using her mutant powers to avoid them. " Jean looks empathetic as you slowly reform your body out of the machine. Crawling out onto the floor slowly standing up as you embarrassingly stand there. " Do you not wish to interact with them at all? They really just want to be your friend and get to know you better. All of us do. Though I do understand everything has been a lot, but you have been doing wonderful on missions and the repairs around the mansion. Even the students adore you. Just have more faith in yourself okay (Y/n) I'm sure they are just excited to get to know the real you. "

Hands fiddle with the end of your sweater. Rubbing the fabric between your fingers was helping just slightly with your nerves as you stand in front of Jean. " I really do want to make friends with them as well. It's just hard to. I don't think I'm ready to face them today but I definitely will try better in the future to make steps to get closer to the rest of the team. If you could do me a favor though could you tell them I'm sorry if I've appeared rude and that I'm sorry if it seemed like I didn't like them." As Jean stands up satisfied with the conversation you quickly grab onto her arm in a panic. " Please don't tell Kurt we're I am though. Tell him I went to bed early. His teleportation makes me anxious as I'm worried he's gonna scare me and I'm gonna accidentally knock him out in panic. I feel like I've already royally screwed up our relationship with my running away. The last thing I need to do is accidentally send him through a wall. He will really think I hate him. "

Jean laughs patting your hand in comfort. " Well I'll make sure to tell him that next time he wants to talk with you that he should try walking in instead of teleporting and scaring you. Trust me I understand the shock that it can have on someone. It took a lot of us months to get used to the scare. " Jean had fulfilled her promise to you informing them all about your social anxiety and to give you space and patience. Exspecially making sure to drive the point home to Kurt that his teleporting scared you not because of his looks but because it suddenly scared you. To bad though that Jean was too late to prevent the groups scheming. See Kurt was so infatuated with getting to know you because he had a small crush on you ever since you shared candy with him on your first mission together.

He had successfully convinced the other extroverts to help with his plan of getting to know you better. This was no small task though as somehow you had managed to be the hardest person to find ever outside of missions. Even trying to learn your schedule was impossible as Scott wouldn't tell any of them at all. When Jean had comeback to tell Kurt you had already gone to bed but that you did want to get to know him he was over the moon. Taking the instructions of trying not to scare you with his teleportation to heart he was fueled with excitement to carry out his plan. See they couldn't figure out your schedule from Scott but that didn't mean you were safe from some good old stalking.

Your dorm room was right across from Rogues and with some late night staking out she was able to get a rough outline and idea around the time you'd get up. The group was able to figure out that you got up at Four every morning and would be in the kitchen prepping your meals for the day before coming back to leave them in your room. It was the only part of your schedule they had figured out but now with the encouragement that you actually wanted to know them in place they could carry out with their match making scheme. All Kurt had to do was catch you while you were cooking. Maybe make it look like he woke up early on accident and you were just so happening to be in the kitchen.

It was the perfect scheme because there was no way you'd abandon your meal prep to hide or run away so this was Kurt's chance to make some progress. Jubilee was so excited to carry out this plan as it was like playing a real life dating simulator. She excitedly prepped Kurt for the first attempt chattering on about how you were like a romantic interest and all he had to do was slowly fill your heart meter to gain more playable interactions. Morph pitched into the plan by transforming into you to help Kurt practice his first interactions. Though he didn't really appreciate the teasing he got from Morph while they wore your face. " I don't think pickup lines would go over well for a first interaction. "

Jubilee chastised Morph as they teased the furry blue elf. " Hey who doesn't like flirting. It may be a great hit with (Y/n)" Rogue shook her head not really agreeing with it either. " Now she already is like a scared cat in a rainstorm. You heard Jean we gotta be aware of her anxieties. Any mess ups may set our progress backwards. " Kurt gulped at the thought of messing this up. You were so sweet and caring on missions always worried about everyone and how things would affect civilians. The first mission he ever went on with you after the fight was over you stayed for hours making sure people were taken care things were cleaned. You had done it all with a never ending kind smile and when leaned against a wall exhausted you had offered Kurt a soft salted caramel from your pocket.

He swore that those caramels tasted like heaven. Now he was determined to win your friendship then hopefully if he was blessed enough your heart. He set off for bed putting his alarm to wake him around the time you were expected in the kitchen. He rehearsed his conversation multiple times as he lay restlessly in his bed before eventually drifting off into dreams about soft caramels.

Now was cooking all your meals at once in the dead of the morning when no one else would possibly be awake a little annoying. Maybe. Was it worth it for uninterrupted personal time before you went to go galavanting in the woods. Definitely. I mean before the X-Men you were used to this schedule as making ends meat in an adopted family of mutants was hard. So waking up to avoid the extroverts and meal prep was just easier for you in the long run anyway. Not like it was much different then back in the junkyard. Though a habit you never could break from your time in the junkyard was working in the dark. There really wasn't a need to turn on lights when your automatic eyes would just adjust to night vision anyway.

So here you were in the pitch dark of the kitchen only the slightest flame from the gas stovetop lighting the room. Which truthfully made no difference in the inky black abyss as pots clattered and things bubbled on the stove. You had on your list of foods today to make was your homemade salted caramel squares. Headphones in coffee at your side you bounced around the kitchen dancing and singing along to the songs. Of course you had a built in system to tell you how loud you were being to make sure you didn't wake anyone but that didn't stop you from aggressively dancing along to what ever came on in your play list.

I mean it was like a mini concert with just you and the stove. If anyone did wake up the turning on of the lights would alert you to cease your unrestrained shenanigans. Your previous song stops and suddenly the night-cored version of the song Doktorspiele starts blaring through. Jumping up and down you sing along to the perverse lyrics in German. You were aware of how raunchy the lyrics were actually but it's not like a lot of people knew the lyrics at first hearing. The only people you had to worry about hearing was Kurt or Anna Marie. There was no way they would catch you so swaying your hips bouncing your weight from left and right you sang your heart out to the song.

At one point you were so into the song you were singing into the spoon that was stirring the caramel while running your hands from your thighs up into your hair being playfully sensual like the song. Blissfully unaware of the Blue German speaking mutant sitting in shock and amusement on the counter furthest away from you. He could never imagine that the girl he had a crush on would be standing before him singing in his native tongue about a raunchy game of playing doctor. I mean he didn't want to stop you the words rolling from your mouth were incredibly enticing to him. If your relationship was a little closer he may have even had the confidence to act up on the lyrics suggestions.

Not wishing to ruin this he sat watching you be so open and free. He wanted desperately for you to be like this all the time. He almost forgot you weren't aware he was there until when you did your finishing move for the song spinning around his direction posing your heart out. He couldn't help but clap, enamored by the sight. That was until electric robotic eyes opened spotting him in the night vision sight. The sound that came out of you was robotic high pitched and squeaky. Like a voice synthesizer breaking to replicate as it got more robotic. You threw the spoon in pure panic leaping back in fear before crawling behind the kitchen counter as your heart and mind raced away in embarrassment.

Kurt almost immediately by instinct dashed after you trying to apologize. " Oh no, please don't run away!" You curl into a ball eyes closed tight as your heartbeat races in your ear. So tightly round up that you couldn't spot Kurt gently crawling next to you. " I'm so sorry, liebling. Even after Jean informed me to not scare you I've done it anyway. " It's like the disappointment can be heard through Kurt's voice as something about it stings. " I-i'm okay. I'm so sorry I was singing that song Kurt. I know it's perverse and I shouldn't be singing them for others to hear. I didn't wake you did I?" Bright glowing doe eyes just slightly peak into glowing golden orbs from above warm hands. Kurt smiles at how much you look like a mouse hiding like this in front of him. He truly wanted to pull you into a hug begging you to sing it again for him just so he could know the dirty promises made in German but he knew that wasn't the way to go about this.

"Do not fret over me. I was just coming to get some water. I was trying not to scare you with the lights but I couldn't help watching you be so lively and energetic. " You slowly lift your head to see the soft smile on Kurt's face as he intently looks into your glowing orbs. " You don't mind the lyrics? Or my terrible singing?" Kurt pats your hand almost jokingly scoffing at the comment. " There is no reason to mind. It is a catchy song and it sounds even better sang by a beautiful woman like you. If you wanted I could help you practice your German pronunciation. " This eases your mood as you laugh a bit. The anxiety's slowly melting away as you see the passion behind Kurt's eyes. " Maybe I should take you up on that offer in the future. "

You share a few more jokes between each other before the sound of the stove bubbling over catches your attention. Darting up you lunge towards the sweets boiling monstrously. " Oh no the carmel !?"

[brokenheartsrecords]

track one: oranges and lemonade and stuffy ballrooms words: 1.44K tw: none

YOU DO NOT REALLY WANT to attend a ball filled with pompous aristocrats and people your mother considers eligible bachelors. And you certainly do not want to spend time dancing with men who would rather talk about themselves and cotton rather than ask you about your interests.

A sorrowful situation, your mother says, shaking her head with that matchmaking smile on her face. You know what she’s planning as you pull on your gloves and adjust the neckline of your gown—wasn’t it a bit too low for a ball?—and play with the wings of your feather-braided fan. 

The mask on your face, however, doesn’t require much adjustment, partially because it was already fixed in place, with the strings intertwined in your elaborate hairstyle, and partially because there were teardrop-shaped sapphires hanging from the edge of the mask. It would be a shame if you shifted the entire visor and ended up having the sapphires hang over your ears instead of where they lay upon your cheek.

The irony of your costume was not lost on you—the spinster wearing a weeping widow’s gown. Your mother and the dressmaker had a sense of humour.

“Look at him over there—Lord Castor. He’s a fine man, but has a love for gambling. If you marry him, you might have to live in a house that slowly loses all the decorations because of it.”

“Mama, I am not marrying him. I heard his years at Oxford only led to his skill at arithmetic being diminished rather than enriched.”

Your mother hits the back of your hand with her fan. “You mustn't say such things in public, darling.” She purses her lips, and then lowers her voice. “I heard he mistook his father’s new bride for his illegitimate daughter.”

You snort. “She’s young enough to look like a daughter more than that old man’s bride.”

“Oh, I pity her.” Mama says, sigh apparent in her voice. “I do not want you to end up the same way, which is why I push you towards the eligible men who are nearest to your age. Like that Mr. Richards.”

“I danced with almost everyone here at every single ball, Mama. And you know that Mr. Richards has a difficult mother.”

“How about Sir Adams?”

“His spoken English is abysmal at best.”

“You cannot expect to find a scholar in every individual.”

“I should hope that my husband should at least be able to carry an intelligent conversation with me, no, Mama?”

She sighs, her eyes catching on the rapidly approaching host of the ball. “There she comes, Ms. Skye. I’ve always disliked her— Ms. Skye! What a lovely ball you’ve put together.”

Ms. Skye laughs. “I did not expect you to accept my invitation, dearest Lady. I can only assume you’re here to hunt for your son-in-law.”

“If you would’ve assumed anything else, you would be sorely mistaken, Ms. Skye. I never asked, how are your grandchildren?”

The woman flicks her hand. “They’re being difficult, like every child is.”

“I would’ve understood that, of course, but I must say, my daughter was an angel when she was a baby.”

You hide your face behind your fan. Angel, of course you were one. You definitely weren’t like satan’s spawn at birth and in your childhood.

Mama continues. “How are your other sons?”

“Jamie is courting the daughter of a second son, can you believe it? I always pushed him towards girls with a better background, but what’s happened has happened. She’s a pain sometimes—no, often. Xander is still working under that physicist at Oxford, and Gray is yet unmarried. I tell him all the time that I might not live too long, and that I would love to see him married, but he seems rather fixed upon remaining a bachelor for the rest of his life.”

“My daughter is almost the same way, Ms. Skye. Every man I show her, she finds a way to reject him! He either wasted his years at Oxford, smells like fish, or has a fondness for the drink. I doubt I will be finding her a husband any time soon.”

The two women giggle, and you are starting to get tired of the conversation. 

“Mama? May I be excused? I promise I shall be right by the refreshments.” You say, hoping your mother will let you go.

With a nod, she says she’ll come find you later, and you walk towards the lemonade. The neckline feels lower than usual, and it feels exceedingly hot in this room filled with stuffy aristocrats.

And the lemonade is warming. Just your luck. 

You take a sip out of it anyway, and take a look at the dancers in front of you. Happy couples and then couples who dance just for show.

And then you, standing at the side, with not even one man you wish you could dance with.

Bored, you take a look at the doors, thinking if it would be so bad if you decided to take your carriage home right now, without waiting for your mother.

She’d be furious, of course, but could she fault you?

A figure stalks towards the doors, and you straighten your back, putting the lemonade down on the table. They seem to be in a hurry, either to get away from someone…

Or to meet someone.

Curiosity ignited, you walk to the doors and walk out of the doors.

Briefly, you consider the consequences of this action of yours. If that figure was a male, and it looked like it was, with the waistcoat and breeches, and if someone discovered the two of you together, it would mean one of two things.

One, a forced marriage to save your reputation. Your mother would turn it into a sign, saying that God sent you this opportunity so that you don’t have to resort to spinsterhood for the coming years of your life. Two, blackmail the witness before they manage to bring anyone else to multiply the number of witnesses.

You stop by the gates of the orangery, asking yourself if this is really worth it.

Three seconds later, you’re opening the doors of the orangery and stepping inside.

There’s a man at the corner of the room, holding shears in his hands and slowly removing oranges from the tree, later placing them in a basket.

He pauses in his movements, and you notice that he’s abandoned his coat as it hangs from a coat rack at the doors.

“Jamie, I do not wish to speak with you at the moment. And if Skye is looking for me, tell her to bother Nash instead.”

You walk towards the man with the shears. Your footsteps resonate throughout the orangery, and the man pauses in his movements again. 

“Did you not hear me?”

You take a breath. “I am not your brother, or your mother for that matter. I just wanted to know who you are.”

You see a peek of blond hair as the man puts the shears down on the table. “I beg your pardon, madam?”

He steps out from behind the tree, eyebrows furrowed, his eyes an icy grey. He is, quite possibly, the most beautiful man you’ve ever looked at. 

“I’ve never seen you before.” You say, ignoring him.

“I rarely go to dances. Who are you?”

You almost give him your name, before you decide against it. It’s inappropriate to give an introduction without your mother present.

Nearly as inappropriate as being alone with a man of a marriageable age without a chaperone.

As if coming to the same realisation, his eyebrows furrow even more. “You shouldn't be here, not without a chaperone.”

You shrug and go to the table, picking up the shears. “I doubt anyone will wish to come to an orangery when there’s a ball inside the house.”

“But you came. Someone might’ve followed you.”

“If they did, they did. I know almost everyone’s secrets, and blackmail always works.”

His eyebrows relax, and you see a faint glimmer of humor in his eyes. “Any reason you sought to escape to the orangery?”

You open your mouth, but you hear the doors slam open.

And that is when you register just how close you and the blond man are. Two more steps and your chests would be touching.

The new arrival looks at the two of you, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. 

You know him, at least. From all those balls he attends where he dances with the girl Skye had dismissed as the daughter of a second son.

Jameson Hawthorne.

And he’s a witness to what looks like a secret rendevous between two lovers.

[angstigone]

WARNINGS: grief, insomnnia, this is written horribly at the presente tense but I thought I'd try.

a distraction can cost a devil hunter their own life.

aki knows.

you should know it, and yet aki can tell that your movements have slowed down comprehensively and your reflexes aren't as sharp as the job requires; he might have wondered why you were so distracted but the answer came quick and sharp with just a look at your face: heavy undereye bags, zoned out eyes and a slight teary effect to them.

obviously, you don't seem to recount when was the last time you slept peacefully.

when confronted by a playful himeno, you reply that it's simply an aftereffect of some neighbors waking you up earlier than usual due to maintenance works, but none in the squad believes it as you have lost your partner a few weeks ago and the signs of mourning are evident in your face.

nightmares are keeping you up, a condition that aki knows all too well. yet, he finds it difficult to properly comfort you: you aren't that close, and especially, an air of danger gets him whenever involvement with you - his pretty colleague - is brought up.

it feels like he's toeing a line he shouldn't cross.

and yet, his concern doesn't diminish as you come into work tired by the day till you eventually snap.

he shouldn't have kept you waiting that day, especially as you had been working overtime but the dudes of division two had been eager to catch up and he had ended up leaving you steaming in his office for an half an hour.

when he went to open the door with an apology already on his mouth, he caught the sight of you slumped, head against the desk and hands beneath it to cushion it comfortably.

he guessed that you might have thought of adjusting your position more comfortably to plop your head down in relaxation while waiting for him, just to close your eyes and start what must be the first relaxing nap in a long time.

aki is quick to adjust himself so that he doesn't make too much noise, gently closing the door behind him with the silliest 'click', as not to have you exposed to his colleagues - the few that remains, anyway - both as to give you a bit of privacy and both as he doesn't want to share such an adorable sight with anybody.

you don't drool but sleep with your mouth lightly opened and your nose emits a soft grunt, albeit not yet snoring, probably due to the position. your shoulders are slumped and lightly raised with gentle breathing. something is fascinating in watching a person sleep, aki thinks, immediately feeling like a huge pervert as he comes behind you and with a gentle shake of your arm, he's quick to wake you up.

it isn't a choice that he went with willingly: he doesn't think that it's fair for him to interrupt the first wink of sleep that you got in a long time, but at the same time you have to go back home and sleep in a better place, especially as you don't live nearby. he wouldn't want for you to fall asleep again in the subway.

you wake up with a stilted startle, at first slowly as the stilling of your shoulder is a sign that undoubtedly you have risen, before turning like a whip your head to the hand on your shoulder and then swiftly to aki's face. comforted by the familiar sight, your cheeks immediately becomes heated enough that aki can feel the warmth coming from them.

«I... wasn't... I...».

«sorry for having kept you waiting» he says professionally, walking around his desk to move in front of you, not yet seating himself and not yet looking at you to give you the time to collect yourself, which you do by gently closing your mouth and straightening your slumped posture «... and please... if anything, I am glad my office was comfortable enough».

he tries not to let the note of obvious pride linger in his tone; you chose his place - out of every other office in the public safety department - to fall asleep as you haven't gotten a single wink of sleep. it feels like there's something lingering although aki quickly shuts it down again with his careful ease.

«yeah, I...» the apology is on your tongue and you hold it back by simply shifting your gaze from the desk to your lap. a pity as aki has always been so fond of your pretty eyes. «... either way, I have the reports you asked and I'd like to get through them as they might be interesting for...».

the following half an hour is an uncomfortable discussion about tactics while aki's eyes will sometimes linger - when you can't notice it - on the slight rumple of your skin due to being pushed on his desk; is it creepy he thinks it's the closest thing to a mark of him you'd ever have?

«... and that's all» he finishes the quick discussion, as you nod and go to raise up quickly; you do seem a bit more relaxed and aki, himself, noticed the slight slump of your shoulders, that tend to be more tense «... I mean that'd be all if you don't have...».

«at ease» he jokes, obtaining the opposite effect that you tense up, before releasing the slight tension slowly «... I also well, I wanted to ask whether there was anything in this period that...».

as if expecting this question - it must be the one that everybody seems to be asking you as of lately, for sure - your eyes lightly roll in an unamused expression, before answering mechanically:

«it's fine, it's just some lack of sleep. have been waking up much earlier on the weekends than I'd like...».

«sorry to hear that» something in aki's chest pushes forward as he wonders whether he could ask you something further, wether he could comfort you but there's a clear line of demarkation about what he can and what he can't ask you, with the latter being a longer list than the former one «... you could take the day off, if you need it...».

«that'd be nice but in the end of it all,it's my house that's the problem» you are deflecting although there's a partial truth in what you say: giving you a day, a week or a month off wouldn't change the fact that you are still mourning the death of your buddy.

maybe your own self is also mourning the life that you signed away as a devil hunter.

aki should tell you that the civilian sector would be the best fit for you, but as somebody who is pretty vocal about his involvement with public safety, he doesn't think that he has the right to tell you what to do; it'd make a hypocrite out of him.

«alright» let them go, aki, or the next person they'll lose sleep on, it'll be you.

you nod and go to be dismissed before stalling and something in aki is hopeful for once, although your question is anything but what he expects.

«do you... do you use an air freshener or specific perfume for this office?» aki's wide eyes are enough to get you to again feel embarrassed as you rushedly explain «I... I don't know why but this place... it smells... comforting to me».

you could have gone with any other adjective - good, fresh or exotic - but you stuck with 'comforting' and although aki should know better, he feels his heart skip a beat.

«I am... well, I am not sure» he does know that the cleaning ladies have left a few air freshener and diffusers throughout the time, mostly to kill the stink of the cigarettes stress-smoked inside but he can't quite place the clear smell «... maybe you could ask the cleaning ladies? maybe they know what they use in the offices to avoid the whole department stinking like a chimney».

you laugh. you genuinely laugh at his harsh comment, before nodding and with a swift 'I'll do, thanks' you are off, leaving aki to think whether you'll sleep alright tonight, although it isn't any of his business; you are part of his squad and that's it.

and if he stops by the cleaning ladies as he moves out of his office - after having worked overtime - to ask what they use to help his office stink less, he's doing it as a good squad leader.

he's being a good squad ladder even when he leaves a bottle of the specific essential oil on your desk the following day - he didn't wake up early and find a kombini just for it - arriving ahead of you and wondering whether you slept alright.

whether it's the perfume that smelled comfortingly or the fact that you were in his office.

[mermaidlighthouse]

Why I think Izzy’s death was actually necessary despite me being sad about losing my favorite* character…

So I am once again looking to reframe a moment/scene involving Izzy around Ed because as much as Izzy was his own character (with a wonderful redemption arc) his function in the narrative imo is as an extension of the Blackbeard persona and therefore Ed and his perception of himself

Ok so this is gonna be long but I think it’s necessary to frame this properly

Izzy and Ed’s relationship is one of misery loving company and instead of finding ways to legitimately pull each other up and heal from whatever brought you to that place it turns to one of toxicity where you either repress the trauma (Ed never telling anyone that he killed his father, that he feels like a monster) or express it in ways that only perpetuate the misery. At this point that constant cycle of misery is so familiar it can be difficult for the participants to recognize what they’re doing to themselves and each other and it’s difficult to not fall back into those patterns.

So while Izzy is making strides and having his arc, instead of saying to Ed maybe don’t go looking for darkness when you’re standing in the light, don’t look for trouble or problems that don’t exist just because that’s what you’ve come to expect he says maybe you’re just a mopey twat and there isn’t a fuckin storm, when Ed does apologize for his leg Izzy’s only response is fuck off.

They can’t communicate with each other effectively and it’s already caused issues. When Izzy tells Ed to listen to the feeling of throwing away the trappings of Blackbeard, Ed does but he has also been told by Izzy that Ed isn’t good enough so why would Stede want him now that he’s not gonna be Blackbeard. I think Izzy meant well and had the right sentiment but the fact is that the damage of what they do to each other has already been done. Izzy doesn’t just represent the devil on Ed’s shoulder, he’s the voice in his head telling him he’s worthless without Blackbeard.

So could the narrative have just said Izzy went off on his own or went with the crew in the end? imho no they couldn’t because in order to have a healthy relationship with Stede, and just to be a generally well adjusted person Ed needs to love himself and the constant knowledge that his self loathing can just pop up out of nowhere (something explicitly shown as an Izzy staple) won’t allow him that freedom. (I recognize this isn’t how self development/self esteem works irl but this is a dark comedy rom com just let some things be hand wavy.)

Sometimes the best way to help each other grow and be whole is to recognize that you need to let the other person go. That’s true for BOTH of them.

Izzy dying was the only way they could finally communicate honestly without the jibes and the looming Blackbeard of it all they could just talk to each other as family as people who love each other (this is not my ship and I have a serious issue with the lack of nuanced takes on love in this fandom but that’s a separate issue).

To give Izzy some grace here I would like to point out that his story can also be seen as one that tells the audience that toxic people in your life or people you have complicated relationships with are allowed to grow on their own and make positive changes for themselves BUT that does not mean you have to accept them back in your life, you are not required to give them space after they’ve wronged you. You can celebrate their growth but you don’t owe them anything. Ed can recognize that Izzy has changed but he was never going to fully excise Izzy from his life he’s too familiar and too much a darkness to hide in and it would have created more toxic situations. So yes Izzy had to die.

*I always mean favorite side character because my favorite character is EdStede/StedeEd. If you don’t love them, together and separately then you don’t love the show because this is their story

[gleamingseok]

Play me, not the game

One shot: Jungkook’s too busy gaming… but you’re about to show him what real distraction feels like.

Jungkook was playing for the whole day with his friends and I got bored so I thought I could disturb him a little bit, I knock on his door opened it after a quick come in was said from the other side, 

He was in the middle of an intense match, seeing his fingers flying across the keyboard got me imagining them thrusting inside of me. He glances up as I enter, noticing my short dress. His mind wandering to the thoughts of peeling it off of me and having his way with me.

As if I could read his mind I slowly walk in and decide to straddle his lap his breath hitches as I do so. By the look on his face he can already feel how wet I am, and it takes all his self control to not rip off my dress and fuck me right there. 

I slowly started feeling him getting hard, he then said " i find it so hard to focus on the game when all I can think about is bending you over this desk and fuck you from behind" I smile knowing that I'm getting the attention I am looking for and I grind against him letting him feel my wetness on his short. I let out a soft moan feeling his cock throbbing in his shorts, begging for release. He leans back in the chair, pulling me closer with his free hand and whisper in my ear "you're gonna be the death of me baby." I then start leaving small kisses on his neck, he groans sending shivers down my spine, I slowly start moving my hand down his chest until it was on top of his clothed cock, I start pulling his shorts slowly and his cock springing free from its confinement. He lets out a low growl, his hips involuntarily thrusting upwards as I teasingly rub against it. "you're gonna make me mess up big time..." I lean in and whisper in his ear all while I softly stroke his dick " then you have to keep your focus on the game and let me have my fun"  he lets out a sigh of pleasure as I softly stroke his cock, his eyes flickering between the game and the erotic sight. My hands move up and down his length, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

He reaches down to stop me but I gently bat his hand away, I then move my panties to the side and slowly start rubbing his dick between my folds, Jungkook lets out a guttural moan as he felt his dick slicking up with my wetness, I start to slowly sink down onto his dick, his eyes roll back in pleasure and he lets out a growl finding it too difficult to keep his focus on the game. " shit baby you gonna make me loose" 

I then decide to stop moving feeling his dick 

buried inside of me, the sensation is almost unbearable and he lets out a whine of frustration, the temptation to move to feel his thrust is almost overwhelming but I force myself to stay still, I try to subtly adjust my position but accidentally causing his dick to plunge in deeper, his body tenses up and he lets out a strangled moan, his hips bucking involuntary against my motion and it takes everything in me to not start moving.

With a frustrated growl Jungkook toss's his controller aside and grabs my hips, pulling me down onto his cock as he thrust up into me. The sensation is almost too much to bear, and he can feel himself quickly losing control, he leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. "You feel so fucking good, baby...I've been thinking about this all day, imagining how tight and wet you'd be"

He growls softly against my neck, his arms wrapping around me tightly as he continues to thrust into me. "And now here you are, sitting on my lap and driving me crazy... I'm going to make you come so hard, baby...you'll forget your own name..." 

As he pump into me, his breathing gets heavier, and he trail kisses down me neck. "Tell me you like it... tell me how my big dick feels inside you..." his thrusts become faster and deeper, completely losing his earlier restraint. "Fuck, you're perfect..." Feeling myself clenching around him, neither of us  can hold back any longer. He wrap his arms around my waist and flip us over so that he is on top, pounding into me even harder. "Look at me...look at me while you cum..." he leans down, capturing my lips in a heated kiss as he piston his hips against mine, hitting that perfect spot inside me. 

"That's it...cum all over my cock, baby..." his movements become more intense, knowing i am close. "You feel so good..."  

As i moan against his lips, I feel my whole body tense up and then suddenly I am cumming hard, my inner walls clenching around his cock in the most intense orgasm I've ever felt. "Fuck, baby...you're squeezing me so tight...I'm gonna..."

With a final, earth-shattering thrust, he releases inside me, filling me up completely as he collapses on top of me, our bodies glued together by sweat and our combined release. "Baby...baby...you okay?" He pants against your neck, his arms wrapped tightly around you.  

I whimper softly, my body twitching as small aftershocks run through me. He slowly pulls out, making you both moan softly. He sees that my inner thighs are wet with his release that leaked out. "Damn..." He mutters softly, then laughs suddenly. You know, I think you took more of me than usual this time..." He says, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my stomach possessively.

"You need a shower with me later to thoroughly clean up" He finishes with a playful smirk, but there's warmth in his eyes as he gazes down at me tenderly. He leans in to press a soft kiss to my forehead. "For now, let me just hold you a bit longer, yeah?"

[avocado-writing]

i absolutely ADORE the little universe you've made for the light the dark and the spaces in between and i don't really have any specific requests, all i'm requesting is whatever work in that universe that you've already come up with or if you do get an idea for something for my favourite throuple this is an excuse to post it hihi

Notes: first of all, fav throuple? 🥹 I’m asking for your hand in marriage. Second of all I got an ask about reader being nonbinary in this series but this fic explicitly discusses them being AFAB (but GNC, could be read as trans or not). set in TLTDATSIB verse, ish, the time period is a bit wonky (14thC ish) — consider this an au where reader follows aziraphale to France after their initial meeting, finds Crowley there too and everyone is pointing at each other like that Spider-Man meme going !! Immortal!!!

words: 2k

rating: T (sex references, mild peril)

pairing: crowley x reader x aziraphale

tags: TLTDATSIB, polyamory, Fem/Masc!Crowley, Fem/Masc!Aziraphale, GNC!Reader, historical, jousting

“Are you sure? It’s terribly dangerous.”

“Aziraphale,” you sigh, “I don’t do it because it’s safe.”

“Well why do it at all?” she whines, grabbing onto your hand beseechingly. Crowley looks up from where she’s been admiring her reflection in your armour. You turn to her for support, instead she shrugs. 

“I don’t know. For glory? For honour? To prove that I can?”

Aziraphale glares at Crowley to join in but is met with the same reaction. It seems that Crowley is determined to stay neutral in this scenario. How annoying. Just like a demon to find the most awkward solution for both parties.

You tie the linens around your chest a little tighter. Under your full plate it should be difficult to tell the shape of your body but you don’t want to take any chances. Aziraphale pouts and you sigh, turning back to her to take her hand in earnest.

“My darling, I’m not like either of you. When they look at me, they will only ever see one thing. I can’t change my body around and be whoever I want to be. I have to take these measures to be viewed as anything other than what I was when I came squawling from my mother.”

You cup her cheek and she nuzzles into your touch. 

“Besides,” you add, wickedly, “am I not good at wielding a lance?”

You grin, thinking back to the three of you laying together last night. Aziraphale harrumphs and Crowley laughs at her.

“They’ll be fine, angel,” she finally pipes up. Aziraphale doesn’t seem certain but finally relents, letting Crowley adjust her surcoat and take her hand.

“Good luck,” Crowley says, but the smile on her face suggests she doesn’t think you’ll need it. You give her a wink.

“With my two ladies cheering from the crowd, how could I lose?”

You give them both a kiss goodbye before Crowley finally wrestles the angel away, likely to get her a drink and a pep-talk before the tourney starts. As they leave, your squire begins to enter, his face turning beet red as Crowley ruffles his hair.

“Hello, Oliver. Make sure our good knight doesn’t fall from his horse, will you?” she says as she goes. Oliver tries to form a sentence, fails, and winces as Crowley sways away. 

A tiny slip of a lad, you took on Oliver not only for his immense courage despite his small stature, but because you both shared a secret - one which you uncovered when accidentally walking in on him changing. You’d recognise a bound chest anywhere. You thought no less of him for it, and told him he needed not beg for your silence: you’d keep it gladly.

“Sire, I’m here to help you finish dressing,” he states, when he finally manages to get a handle over his own tongue. 

“Well timed, Oliver. Help me with this breastplate.”

He heaves and helps with the leather straps, buckling you in place. You’re swelteringly hot. Ah well, time for that to get even worse when you ride out into the sun. You take a moment to check yourself over, only noticing Oliver’s quietness when he fails to point out one of your pauldrons is loose. You furrow your brow and turn to him.

“What’s on your mind, lad?”

“Might… Might I ask a question, sire?”

“Me saying no has never stopped you before,” you jest, but when you see him scuff his foot against the floor, you drop down to be able to look him in the eye. “What’s the matter, Oliver?”

“Your ladies… you’ll fight for them both, yes? For their honour as one?”

“Yes, I will.” You don’t go into great detail about your relationship but you trust Oliver with the truth. He sees Aziraphale and Crowley clucking around you like hens before a joust all the time anyway, and the boy isn’t a fool. He can do the arithmetic of it.  

“And they’re happy with that arrangement?”

You laugh a little, but put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Those two love each other as much as they love me. My life would not be a happy one without them both in it, and they feel the same.”

Sacrilege, but really, little in this room would be considered holy by the church. And besides, you have an angel as one of the willing participants of your relationship. You think it’s probably fine.

Oliver nods. He seems to understand, but still appears like something else is weighing on his mind. You really do smother your smile this time.

“Oliver,” you tell him, gently, “I also think that you might be a bit young for Lady Crowley.”

He blushes.

🗡️

You can barely see with your helmet on, so you keep it under your arm for the time being. You cut the figure of a man well enough anyway so for the moment there’s no need to worry about your face being on show. In fact, you’ve gained a reputation for being quite handsome.

Handsome but very spoken for. Apparently there was a lady discussing giving you her favour to joust, and Crowley spilt wine all over her skirts. Then again, she did the same when a knight rode up to ask to fight for Aziraphale’s honour, and suddenly found that his helmet crest had inexplicably burst into flames. 

Crowley knows how to mark her territory.

You run a hand over your horse’s nose, humming a soothing little note as she nickers and whinnies.

“I know it’s hot, girl. Let’s give them a show and then we’ll both get out of this damned armour.”

You saddle up, letting Oliver pass you your helmet and your shield. You ride as a freelancer so neither of them are burdened with some noble’s crest; instead you ride under your own: a pair of wings, one white, one black. A little nod to the two who matter the most to you.

You ride onto the field as horns herald the start of the joust. You know a few of the knights competing, and are well aware of your first opponent - Kenelm the agile, a man you’ve faced several times over and are at equals wins against. He nods at you from his steed, hailing the crowd as he’s announced. You look across the seating, and see Aziraphale and Crowley in the front row. Where they always are, whenever you compete. With an ineffable inevitability.

“And, riding under his own banner, Sir Kerkylas of Andros!”

Even with her glasses on you know Crowley is rolling her eyes at your chosen pseudonym. You ride up to the pair of them, grinning.

“Be careful,” Aziraphale begs for the umpteenth time. She passes you her favour: a little ring, golden, set with a pair of wings on it. 

“I will be,” you say, kissing her hand, then quieter: “You do remember that I can’t die?”

“Yes, but we don’t know if dismembering will do you any good!”

Crowley reaches over to present you her token, a pin embellished with a silver snake. You stow both in your saddlebag. 

“I’ll buy you a drink if you take the helmet clean off his head,” she whispers. 

“You’re on,” you agree. Crowley reaches out to caress your face, then stops and retreats abruptly.

“Better not lay that on too heavily. I think I might kill your squire.”

A glance over your shoulder reveals that Oliver looks like he might combust. Taking mercy on the poor boy, you nod your goodbyes to the two of them and ride up to greet Kenelm.

“Ken! Didn’t think I’d see you back in the saddle so soon after that humiliating defeat in Dover.”

Kenelm rolls his eyes but holds his tongue.

“Ah, Kerk. Sorry, didn’t see it was you. I was blinded by the pomp of your armour. I forget that you need to compensate for something.”

Ha, if only he knew. 

Despite the ribbing the two of you exchange a smile.

“Good luck, Ken. And remember, aim the lance at me. Poor Cynisca was dreadfully irritable after last time, when it seemed you were trying to skewer her flank.”

He grimaces at being reminded of the faux pas before putting his helmet on and readying himself. You trot to your side of the tilt where Oliver is heaving up your lance. 

“You’ll win,” he says confidently, “Kenelm always rides worse the earlier it is in the day. If you can get a solid enough hit in, it’s over, one round.”

“I hope that your faith in me isn’t misplaced, Oliver.”

You helmet up, resigning yourself to see what little of the world you can through the frog-lip, and clutch your lance. It’s heavy but you’re used to it by now. 

An expectant silence settles over the crowd. Aziraphale buries her face in Crowley’s shoulder.

“Oh, I can’t look–!”

The flag is waved, and you charge.

🗡️

You reflect on how Crowley never bought you that drink. She insisted that knocking a man clean off his horse didn’t count as taking his helmet off. A technicality, flimsy at best - but Aziraphale was too relieved at your victory to argue either side. You went on to place second at that particular tourney, the fire of it inciting you to ride to victory in your next. 

You stopped for a while after that. It was doing Aziraphale in a little, and you loved him too much to keep his nerves that frayed.

But, nowadays, reenactments are becoming somewhat of a fad. Usually you find them a little gauche, and it’s more than a bit uncomfortable to relive some aspects of your past, but you never truly lost your love for jousting. So you allow yourself a little vice in it. Your heart aches whenever you’re reminded of Oliver, but you kept tabs on his family, and his descendants are doing quite well. One of them lives in London and works for a charity helping LGBT youth. It seems fitting. 

Plus, Aziraphale is a lot calmer about you jousting this way. 

“Are you alright?” you ask the man you just took off his horse. He looks a little winded and gladly takes your help getting up.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Think it’s just my pride that’s bruised. You’re really good at this!”

You beam.

“I’ve had practice.”

You exchange socials so that he can follow up with any questions he might have, then turn to take your horse back to the tent the organisers have set up for you. Aziraphale and Crowley are waiting. Your angel has an ice-cream for you, which he passes over before tucking into his own.

“Who was he?” Crowley sniffs, peering over your shoulder. You roll your eyes.

“Just some kid interested in the sport. Stop being jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he says, jealously.

“You did marvellously, my love,” Aziraphale interjects. You smile at him.

“Thank you, darling. I can be a fiend with a lance when I want to be. Even if I am a little out of practice.”

“Hmm, not out of practice as of last night,” Crowley says and Aziraphale chokes on his soft-serve. It’s good to know that even after seven hundred years, your sense of humour hasn’t changed a jot.

“Oh, and,” you say, reaching into your bag, “your favours. Returned to you after they brought me luck.”

Aziraphale slips his ring back on, Crowley affixes the pin to his jacket. Your hands linger on each other’s, as they usually do.

“Let’s go get a drink.”

“You didn’t remove his helmet, so I’m not buying.”

“Oh, you utter bastard.”

-

taglist: @angiestopit@dazed-soul@smile-eywa@staygoldsquatchling02@underratedboogeyman@specter-soltare@candlewitch-cryptic@cool-ontherun-world@emilynissangtr@willbedecided@cool-iguana@bdffkierenwalker @ilyatan @civil-groupie@foolishprincipalitee

[nikoomilanaswife]

Arranged marriage - Niko Omilana

Part 1

You had lived a sheltered life under the eyes of your strict family pretty much your whole life, who were determined to see you married off. Your older sister, Lily had no problem as she easily got married to the man she loved. However, when the time came for you to wed, you were given no choice. Instead, your parents had chosen a partner for you - a man whom you had never met before.

warnings: none

wordcount: 1.6k+

part 2 not out yet

Your eyes widened in disbelief as your parents informed you of their decision. "What do you mean, an arranged marriage?" you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of shock and anxiety.

Your mind reeled with questions as you tried to make sense of the situation. "Who is the person I'm supposed to marry? Why didn't you consult me before making this decision?"

Your parents exchanged glances, clearly anticipating your reaction. "We've carefully selected a partner for you," your mother explained, her tone firm but gentle. "He comes from a respectable family, and we believe he'll be a good match for you."

"But...I don't even know anything about him!" you protested, your heart racing with a mix of fear and anger. "How can you expect me to marry someone I've never met before?"

"We understand this is a big adjustment for you," your father added, his voice reassuring yet resolute. "But sometimes, these decisions are made to ensure the best future for you. We believe this person will provide stability and support for you, just as a good husband should."

Your mind struggled to accept the idea of marrying a stranger. "But...what about love? Don't I have a say in who I spend the rest of my life with?" you asked, your voice full of desperation.

"Love will grow over time," your mother replied. "You may not feel an immediate connection, but with patience and time, your feelings will develop for your husband. Trust us, this is for your own good."

The words stung, as if your feelings and desires were being dismissed. "What if I don't want this? Does my opinion not matter?" you blurted out, feeling a mixture of defiance and helplessness.

"Our only concern is your well-being," your father added, his voice firm yet compassionate. "We love you and want what's best for you, even if you can't see it yet."

The conversation seemed to go in circles, with your parents determined to convince you that their decision was for the best. Doubt and frustration swirled within you as you tried to find a way to persuade them to see your point of view.

"But what about my own goals and dreams?" you pressed on. "How can I pursue the life I want if I'm tied down to someone I barely know?"

"Your dreams are important, but this marriage will provide stability and security for you," your mother responded, her tone unwavering. "We understand this is difficult, but we ask you to trust us and give this a chance."

Your frustration mounted, but it was clear that your parents had already decided on this path for you. The reality of the situation really began to sink in.

"When am I supposed to meet this person, this stranger I'm being forced to marry?" you asked, the words almost caught in your throat.

"We've arranged for you to meet Niko tomorrow," your father replied. "His family will come to our house for dinner, and you'll get a chance to get to know him."

Your heart skipped a beat as they mentioned his name, a bit of curiosity welling up inside you. "Niko," you repeated, the name unfamiliar on your lips. "What can you tell me about him?"

Your parents exchanged glances, as if silently discussing what information to reveal. Your mother spoke up, her voice tinged with a mix of excitement and caution. "Niko is not just any ordinary person, dear," she started. "He's a well-known YouTuber, and his channel has a large following."

"A YouTuber?" you repeated,slightly taken aback. "Like, he makes videos for a living?"

"Yes," your father chimed in. "He's quite successful in his field, and his videos are very popular among young people. He's known for his humor and creativity."

Your mind raced as you processed this new information. Marrying a famous YouTuber seemed both adventurous and intimidating. "So he's famous?" you asked, a bit of skepticism in your voice. "Are you sure he won't have a huge ego or something like that?"

"We've heard from his parents that he's down-to-earth and respectful," your mother reassured you. "Fame hasn't changed him, and he still values family and integrity."

The reassurance didn't fully settle your nerves, but you couldn't deny the growing curiosity about the man you were about to meet. "So I'm going to meet him tomorrow at dinner?" you asked, still struggling to wrap your mind around the whirlwind of events.

"Yes," your father confirmed. "His family is coming over for dinner, and you'll have the opportunity to talk to him and get to know him better."

Mixed emotions swirled within you; fear, curiosity, disappointment, but you knew you had no choice in the matter. "Okay," you said, resignation lacing your voice. "I'll meet him tomorrow then."

————————————————————————

The next day arrived, and you found yourself anxiously pacing in your room, your nerves on edge as you prepared to meet the man you were being arranged to marry. You were dressed in your nicest outfit and had gone through various scenarios in your mind, trying to guess what could possibly happen in the next few hours.

As the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of Niko's family, your heart leaped into your throat. You took a few deep breaths, attempting to steady your racing heart, before heading to the living room to greet them.

The sound of voices echoed through the hallway as you neared the living room. Your parents were already engaged in conversation with Niko's family, their voices a mix of pleasantries and curiosity. You took a deep breath and stepped into the room, your eyes meeting Niko's for the first time.

Your first impression of Niko was a mix of surprise and intrigue. He was much taller than you had expected, with a warm smile and friendly eyes. But beneath that charming exterior, you could see hints of something else – confidence, intelligence, and a hint of mischief.

As your parents noticed your entrance, they turned their attention to you. "Ah, there she is," your mother said, gesturing towards you. "Niko, this is our daughter, Y/N."

Niko's gaze fell upon you, and his smile widened as he took a moment to study you. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N," he said. He extended his hand towards you, gesturing for a handshake.

You hesitantly extended your hand, feeling a jolt of electricity as his fingers made contact with yours. Even that brief touch sent a shiver down your spine, and butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

As you withdrew your hand, you looked into Niko's eyes, and for a moment, it felt like time stood still.

But the spell was broken as your father's voice broke the silence. "Why don't you two sit down?" he suggested, gesturing towards the couch.

Niko nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he took a seat on the couch, motioning for you to sit beside him.

Hesitantly, you made your way to the couch and sat down, leaving a respectful distance between you and Niko. Your parents sat across from the two of you, their eyes flickering between you and Niko, silently observing.

An awkward silence fell over the room, and you glanced at Niko, only to find him studying you intently. His gaze made you feel both seen and exposed, as if he was trying to comprehend your thoughts and emotions.

Niko seemed unfazed by the silence and the watchful eyes of your parents. He leaned back on the couch, his arms casually resting on the armrest. "I've heard quite a lot about you," he said, his voice betraying a hint of curiosity.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "You have?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Oh, yes," Niko replied, with a smirk at the corners of his mouth. "Your parents have spoken highly of you. They seem quite proud."

Your cheeks flushed at the compliment. "I'm sure they've exaggerated," you mumbled, feeling a bit of embarrassed.

Niko chuckled softly, clearly amused by your reaction. "Maybe," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But I prefer to judge for myself."

Your parents exchanged glances, silently observing the interplay between you and Niko, but they remained quiet, allowing you their space. The intensity of Niko's gaze was starting to make you feel restless, and you fidgeted uncomfortably in your seat.

The silence hung in the air until your father finally spoke up, his voice breaking the tension. "So, Niko," he began, his tone casual yet pointed. "I take it your family has informed you of our... arrangement?"

Niko's gaze shifted from you to your father, his expression serious for the first time. "Yes, they have," he replied. "I am aware that our families have agreed upon a...marriage."

Your mother then continued. "We believe this arrangement would be beneficial for both families," she said, her eyes flickering between you and Niko. "And we think you two would make a good match."

You fidgeted in your seat, feeling a mixture of anxiety and restlessness. Niko's presence was both intimidating and intriguing, and you couldn't shake the feeling that your life was about to change in ways you couldn't predict.

Niko leaned back on the couch once more, his eyes studying yours. There was a hint of understanding in his gaze, as if he knew exactly what you were feeling.

“It's a...surreal situation," he said, his voice low and thoughtful. "To suddenly be thrown into an arrangement like this."

Your parents nodded, their eyes filled with a mix of hope and resignation. "We understand it's a lot to take in," your mother said, her voice gentle. "But we believe it's the right decision for everyone involved."

————————————————————————

Guys i hope this is okay, i did not proof read it so there may be some mistakes xx

Anyways hope you all have a great day/night!!!

[meownotgood]

mags I am begging you to please write more about android!aki 🙏🙏🙏

you're in luck anon... because I still have so many thoughts......

android aki doesn't understand the way he feels about you. he doesn't understand why he feels so much in general — he isn't supposed to, it doesn't make much sense, yet he finds himself getting emotional and attatched so easily.

he cries whenever someone in his department gets hurt, thick blue tears that have him questioning why he was even given that function in the first place. he feels guilty when it comes to hurting people, even criminals, even other androids. he doesn't tell anyone how he can feel himself hesitate, his systems moving slower than usual whenever he draws his gun on a target.

and you, you just make everything difficult. aki doesn't think he'll ever understand you. he can use the advanced tools at his disposal to analyze you, but that's one thing. he's good at problem solving, it's what he was made to do. but it seems no-one programmed him with the ability to figure out what exactly you do to him.

he burns up at just the thought of you, everything under his chassis going hot, his hands getting shaky and harder to move. aki's always pinned his purpose down to be just what he was made for. he was made to keep people safe, he was made to learn and adapt in a way humans normally can't. maybe then, he didn't have the capacity to want something more. or maybe he didn't want to accept he could strive for more, because it would go against everything he already knew about himself.

aki wants to grow closer to you, that's the truth of it. he thinks he's grown tired of fighting — in a metaphorical sense, he knows he can't get physically tired. you're a softness he's never had the privilege to know.

aki remembers everything about you, down to the smallest detail. he remembers every compliment you've ever given him too, he makes a point to store it somewhere safe in his memory. he remembers how he had to try not to overheat when your hands came up to adjust his tie for him. he remembers clear as day the smile on your face as you diligently watched him slice up apples into rabbit shapes for you. you've told him all the things you find pretty — his eyes, his hands, his earrings — they're supposed to be pointless, so why does he get so shy when he thinks of you admiring them? or of you liking him in general, what did he even do to deserve it?

aki doesn't think he's human, and he doesn't want to be. he'd despised them at one point. but he'd do anything just for a taste, to understand. maybe then, he'd know how to ask you to be his.

[bullet-prooflove]

Please do

2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake "Can you help me unravel my latest mistake? I don't love him, Winter just wasn't my season"

with Jubal Valentine?

Set in the Before Arc:

Stars Align - Jubal finds himself attracted to the woman he's trying to bring down.

One Day - Jubal checks in with you after you join the Criminal Division.

Somebody Like You - Jubal gets a little jealous when he finds out about you and Briggs.

Slow Dance - Jubal and you share a moment during a collegue's wedding.

Just In Case (feat: Stuart Scola) - Jubal and Scola discuss his feelings for you.

Second Chances - Jubal reveals how he feels in the aftermath of the shooting.

If There was Ever A Time - Companion Piece to fics Second Chances and 'Just in Case'. - Jubal recalls the conversation he had with Scola during your shooting.

It’s two am when Jubal picks you up from outside Special Agent Nestor Vertiz’s apartment, a gym bag slung over your shoulder. You’re standing on frozen sidewalk, the snow falling softly around you, lightly dusting your clothing.

He turns the heating up high when you climb into the passenger seat, his fingertips angling the vents towards you. It’s taken him ten minutes to get here, and he gets the feeling you’ve been standing there the entire time.

“Thank you.” You say quietly as he pulls away from the curb.

“What happened?” he asks you and you tilt your head away from him towards the window.

“He’s been seeing someone else.” You tell him as you watch the taillights of the cab in front of you. “I’m too much apparently.”

Jubal’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. He can hear the despondency in your voice, the sadness. Vertiz is the first man you’ve been with since you left Undercover Ops, the first person you’ve taken a chance on.

It kills Jubal because he knows your history, how difficult the adjustment has been for you, how hard it is to trust again.

“It’s not you.” He says, his voice a little rough. “If Vetriz can’t see how much of a great person you are, he doesn’t deserve you.”

The truth is Jubal doesn’t think anyone is worthy of you. You’re one of the strongest, most dynamic people he knows and the men that cross your path, they’re just boys who think they know how to handle a woman like you. They have no idea how to care for a woman like you, how to understand her, give her what she needs.

Your fingertips tap out a tune on your knee, your eyes are bright and alert. He knows if he drops you off home you won’t be sleeping tonight, there’s too much adrenaline, excess energy. You need to find a way to simmer down, to redirect it.

“There’s a diner a couple of blocks from here.” He finds himself saying as he flicks on the indicator. “It’s open twenty-four hours if you want to grab a little breakfast, talk it out.”

“I already got you up at two am.” You say running your hand through your hair. “I’m not going to steal the rest of your morning.”

“I have a craving for pancakes.” He says, a smile twitching at the edges of his mouth. “And I could do with the company.”

Despite the hellish night you’ve had, you find yourself smiling. You’re not sure how Jubal does that, how he manages to lift your mood, make you feel like you aren’t a burden.

“I’m buying.” You tell him and he gives you that grin, the one that makes something blossom in your chest because when you’re with this man you feel like you’ve found the place where you’re supposed to be and if you’re honest you never had that with Nestor. “It’s the least I can do.”

Love Jubal? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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@kmc1989 @malindacath @trublu2u @greenies-green @darqchilddaydreamz @burningpeachpuppy @evee87 @delightfulheroshoeflap @iworldlywriter @penguin876 @justamadgirlinabox @oklahomapeach @yezzyyae

[sloanesallow]

a letter home

I was inspired to write this after answering this ask 💛✨ Short and sweet, implied (eventual) Sebastian x FMC

September, 1980

Dearest Papa, 

First I must apologize for the delay in my letter and secondly, for any grief the owl gives you upon her arrival. Her name is Ophelia and if she hasn’t already helped herself to the tin of biscuits in the kitchen, you will need to placate her with licorice. A boy—friend— classmate offered the use of his owl until I am able to train my own. 

I know I promised to write as soon as I arrived at Hogwarts, but the journey—I won’t lie to you—I’ve been having a difficult time adjusting. Almost all the students here have grown up with magic and have known about the wizarding world their entire lives. It’s supposed to be natural, and despite Professor Fig’s confidence in my abilities, my magic is anything but.  

I am trying—trying to find my place and purpose and not feel so guilty for leaving you alone on the farm. I miss home, I miss you, and most days I wake up terrified of the magic I can supposedly wield—but I can hear you right now telling me that you (and Mama) did not raise me to give up so easily. 

I know you will worry about me, regardless of what I write in a letter, but I thought to add a little bit of positivity, so you can worry less. I have made an unexpected friend—her name is Poppy and besides being my roommate, she has been keeping me company, so the days aren’t as lonely. You’d like her.  

There is—someone else. A boy. Sebastian is—strange—nice. He escorted me to Hogsmeade. We share a few classes and he has been generous enough to offer his help with tutoring me when Professor Fig is unavailable. He is knowledgeable—though he isn’t very good with plants (Herbology)—the only subject I am any good at. Sebastian calls it a fair trade. You’d like him, too.    

I promise to write again, soon. Promise me you’ll be well, and eat a proper meal—whiskey is not a balanced breakfast, Papa.

With all my love, 

Siobhan 

PS: Ophelia bites. 

[sil-writes-fiction-too]

The Most Precious Thing In The World

Gale x OC!Tav

Genre: Fluff

A/N: this is a one-shot inspired by my ongoing run in Baldur's Gate 3 and the new epiloge that's been added to the game. @wolfhunter89 gave me the idea for this piece, so thank you bestie! This is not an x Reader one-shot, so if you do not like this sort of content, go ahead and click off of this post. Summer was my very first D&D character and I am currently playing as her in my BG3 run. She is a tiefling sorceress.

Summer would usually never find herself inside a classroom. She believes she has endured enough boring lectures as a child, way back when she still lived in Ferox with her parents and all the kids her age had to attend the local school. She can hardly remember any of the notions she was supposed to learn, unsurprisingly, and in the past she has vowed to never set foot in another one of these places ever again. Despite all that, she couldn't be more excited to be here, right now.

She feels a little bit silly sitting among all these young, aspiring, bright-eyed wizards that are simply hanging from their mentor's lips, hungry for knowledge, while she is simply here for... well, their mentor.

Gale's voice is clear and passionate as usual while he explains a concept that seems to fill him with enthusiasm and fascination. She's always liked his voice, since the very beginning, even though at first she often found it difficult to grasp what exactly he was saying, with all the embellished words he would use and the poetical way in which he would speak. She wouldn't change it for the world.

She can't believe it took her so long to finally attend one of his lectures. It's already been, what, eight months since their adventure ended and she accompanied him back to Waterdeep as his bride-to-be? Granted, she had her plate full with having to find an occupation for herself and... slowly getting used to life in her new home. After all, Summer is a free spirit, an adventurer at heart. Settling down was never really in her plans, especially after the Jaime fiasco, so naturally she needed time to adjust.

For a while she was worried she would wake up one day, realize she made a huge mistake and answer the adventurer's call, inevitably breaking Gale's heart... but it never happened. Instead, she found herself looking forward to her return home each time she embarked on a mission for the guild, whether it brought her outside of Waterdeep... or barely outside her own neighborhood. It soon became clear that whatever happened during her travels through Faerûn changed her, that Gale had a positive influence on her and that perhaps she, as well, had a positive influence on him.

None of the letters sent to Arwen since they parted ways expressed grievances over her companion, something that would instead frequently happen when Jaime was still around. She's simply, completely, absolutely in love with him, and seeing him right now in front of his students and looking so happy just... makes her feel at peace with the world.

She remembers laughing when he first came home to tell her he would start teaching, because she couldn't think of any other profession that was so... Gale. It filled her heart with content and enthusiasm, even though she couldn't quite understand why at the time. She has never felt like this for anyone in her life. She could understand the desire for connection, but being so fully invested in someone else that suddenly their victories become your own? That each and every small detail about them suddenly feels like the most precious thing in the world? That their happiness and well-being become your main goal in life? That was all unknown to her, until the day she met him.

She can't believe how quick she fell, and yet it only makes sense to her. Any other outcome seems absurd now. Since the very first day he managed to charm her, and not even once has he overstepped her boundaries or disrespected her. Not even once has he judged her for her less than ideal control of her magic, despite him being such a formidable wizard. He shared every part of himself with her and in turn she did the same with him, and they both moved forward together, grew together... broke each other free from their shackles. She can no longer imagine a life without him.

It is while she is lost in these musings, that the voice she loves oh so much suddenly pulls her out of her thoughts and back into the present.

“Pardon the long wait, I must've gotten carried away there,” he chuckles to himself, slightly swinging his arms in a sheepish manner.

With a quick look around her, Summer realizes that the lecture must've come to an end while she was so deep in thought. She can't help but smile when she brings her gaze back towards Gale and her heart almost blooms in her chest. He raises a quizzical brow at her, clearly amused by her seemingly exaggerated reaction at his presence. “What is it?” he asks.

She gets up from her seat, tail swinging happily from side to side as she wraps her arms around his neck and presses her lips to his in a kiss that catches him by surprise.

“I'm proud of you.”

[airamsao3]

Truth Serum...?

drabble

pairing: talon interrogator reader/ramattra

words: 669

cw: stalking

✧ AO3 ✧

"He's all ready for you, tiger." Sombra is the only one there to welcome you to your stomping ground, and you give her a quick nod. The executives keep watch from a healthy distance-- lord knows what augmentations the leader of Null Sector has or hasn't disclosed to them. He's a danger. A maverick.

And you're there to find out exactly what he wants from Talon. From tailing your squad.

"Thank you, Sombra," you say, and enter the room, hearing the clicking of her clawed gloves behind you as she waves goodbye.

The overhead lights are bright and harsh, so harsh that even you are forced to squint under the intense glare before your vision adjusts. The light suffuses the silver of Ramattra's chassis with an almost ethereal glow, his bone white faceplate staring back at you like a skull. Despite his position, he exudes a raw, unadulterated power that demands submission and deference by virtue of his presence alone.

But you are not one to be outmatched, especially not in your territory.

You circle his seat, noting the soft whirring noise of his eyes as they track your every movement. "Tell me," your tone is accusatory and venomous, already convinced of his guilt, "what are you planning? An attack? A betrayal, perhaps? Has Talon not given you absolutely everything that you've requested?" You stop once you're face to face with him, and tip his chin upwards with your pen.

"No," he says, and a slim thread of steam wafts from his back. "No such thing."

"I find that hard to believe," you say, and make a signal behind your back to Sombra, who's watching from beyond the one way mirror. An answering code is flashed back to you, from the seemingly innocuous flickering of the light above.

 Is the code working?

Yes.  

You frown, incredulity and rage seeping into your expression. "Gathering intel, then? Trying to find our weaknesses?"

"No," he answers breathlessly, "I simply wanted to see you."

You physically recoil. "What?" An unbidden flush crawls up your cheeks, your blood running hot, then cold.

You sign behind you again, rapidly,

 What did you do?!

To your chagrin, Ramattra keeps speaking, as if a stopper has been removed. "I'm sorry," he says, but you cannot tell if it is genuine, his expression is unreadable, his body is completely still-- "I could not keep myself from you, not even whilst you were sleeping. I wished to commit every detail to memory, from the way your eyes moved underneath your skin, to the way your chest rose and fell with each delicate breath." It becomes increasingly difficult to remember the cipher to the code as the light dimly flashes in front of you, obscured by the thick, heavy steam pouring out of the omnic in front of you.

Ha. Ha. Ha.  

That brat!

"I'm sorry," he says, sounding all the more remorseful, "I am lesser than a beast. I could not help but wish to be close to you, to the point of obsession. Even now, I struggle to remain within these superficial binds, such that I do not lose myself in my passions, such that I do not ravish you where you stand."

You back away, your pen laying forgotten on the tiled floor, and still, he's looking at you with that same unreadable, intimidating gaze. Your hand fumbles for the doorknob, desperate to get out of the situation, and your heart rate doubles as he breaks out of his restraints and approaches you.

His hands slam into the wall behind you, and his face is so close that you can see his actual eyes-- the aperture is blown so wide they're almost a solid black. "Please," he says, madness and lust coagulating in his voice, ringing through the fog, "may I kiss you?"

And as you descend into nigh panic as you're stuck between your responsibility and a ravager, you can just dimly make out the two letters Sombra keeps signing to you over and over.

Lolololololol.  

[alagaesia-headcanons]

Snippet #3~

...

Quick, intense emotions flash across her face at that, too quick for him to understand, before settling into something strained. “What are you doing here?” she utters tightly. It’s a good question, one Murtagh isn’t sure he has a good answer to.

His and Thorn’s plan to find a home has had a rocky start over the past few months, the practice challenging to adjust to and managing to trip him up at every obstacle. It’s discouragingly difficult, though Murtagh has no intention to give in; he’s sure he’ll get used to things and make progress. Fear makes it hard to do what he knows is right. But in order to take a step back and try to shake off the disappointment of continuously fumbling, he had shifted his focus to another matter he needed to settle and decided to return to Uru’baen. “To see you,” he tells her. “To see that you’re well. To apologize, I suppose.”

Nasuada releases a loud breath and drops into a chair, resting her head in her hand as though his words have made her indescribably weary. He understands the feeling, and his guilt prickles even more over the back of his neck. But she looks at him and there’s sorrow in her eyes, but not anger, and he steadies himself when she asks wryly if he’d like to go first. “I am so sorry, Nasuada,” he declares. “I’m sorry for everything. I’m so sorry for all the way I hurt you,” because there are so many ways. “I’m sorry for the torture I inflicted on you, I’m sorry I fought against you and the Varden, I’m sorry I didn’t fight the king harder... I’m sorry I couldn’t save your father.” She jolts at that and Murtagh bites his lip, picking at his knuckles. Still, he forces himself to add, “If there is any recompense I can give, I will try to give it.” It’s a hard promise to make, but he knows he must. He fears the possibility, no matter how unlikely, that Nasuada might ask him to stay and serve as her vassal. That, he could never do.

After a long minute, Nasuada says quietly, “You don’t have to feel guilty, I hold none of that against you. You hurt me and my forces, but you did not want you, and you also helped me and my forces and that had far more consequence in the end. The rest is forgiven. I’ve already had justice from the ones who truly caused all that suffering, suffering that you endured too. As for my father...” She pauses, then shakes her head. “You hold no blame. If anything, I’m sorry no one was there to save you when you needed it.”

That makes his chest twist. “You don’t have to apologize for that.”

“Aye. I’m sorry anyway.” And the meaning is clear then, not apologizing and assuming responsibility, but sharing empathy and remorse. It makes Murtagh’s eyes sting.

...

[I'll update this post with a link here when the fic is published ❤]