#could always go back to the lord of the rings fic

[skyrim-forever]

down so bad for elves right now i might get into dragon age

[mydadleft471]

A Trip Down Memory Lane

Summary: Messmer decides to surprise you in more ways than one.

Spoilers for both Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. No warnings tho, just me loving my fiery redhead.

MESSMER LOVERS COME EAT!

I finally got the courage to upload the fic I was working on! Everyone was so nice (and starving for Messmer content) so I folded lmao. Please enjoy and understand that I have never written anything like this, especially with ye olde English. It's a pain.

“I have something I wish to show thee.” Messmer’s low voice cut through the silence reverberating in his chamber.

“What is it?” You look up from patching a hole in one of his cloaks.

“I cannot say. It is a surprise.” His eye twinkled with something akin to mischief. You put down your needle and gently fold his cloak, putting it on your chair to finish later.

“A surprise for me? Are you feeling alright, My Lord?” You smile at him from where he towers above you. 

“Shush. Wilt thou follow?” 

“Always,” you say.

He leads you down countless flights of stairs and through the castle’s corridors. Down a hallway, you follow him as he steps into a lift that takes you to a part of the castle that is unfamiliar to you. You assumed you had explored everything by now, but it seems you were wrong. Messmer had given you permission to freely roam the castle, and you had spent a lot of time exploring the various rooms. You had gotten lost many times within the many twisting and confusing hallways, but the castle staff always led you back to your quarters. 

The path from the lift leads out to a part of the castle almost entirely flooded. This seems like a place that hasn’t been occupied in many years. Some of the buildings you can see appear to be collapsing and debris litters the area. The water churns uneasily below you, as if something lurks in the depths. Taking a few steps away from the ledge, you stare out into the water that swallows surrounding buildings.

“What is it?” Messmer asks. He senses your trepidation in going any further, though you don’t think you have much to worry about with a powerful demigod at your side. Still, this place sets your nerves alight and has you on high alert.

“I’ve never seen this place before. Where are we?”

He speaks as if it’s common knowledge. “The Church District.”

“What happened here?”

He takes a second before he responds in a flat tone. “It does not matter.” Noticing your face falling slightly, he gives you a small smile. “Thy surprise is near. Come.”

You continue to follow him, your footfalls mere echoes of his much heavier ones. You wonder where he is taking you, and why he decided to surprise you. Though you have gotten much closer to him throughout your time in the Realm of Shadow, you can’t wrap your head around the fact that he wants to show you something himself. So many unanswered questions, though Messmer brings about many of those. Still, you cannot complain about how well he treats you now after you’ve earned some of his trust. You are safe within his walls, and you are welcome.

Though you wish he’d let you into his heart and mind more often, you take what you can get.

Finally, he stops in a room with a large, and complete, statue of Queen Marika. Many throughout the Realm of Shadow have been beheaded, sending icy chills through you when you first arrived, but this one is intact. The only signs of damage have been from the apparent age of the statue.

“Dost thou trust me?”

His question catches you off guard. Looking up at him, he looks vulnerable and almost uncomfortable. 

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t have followed if I didn’t.” You smile at him to ease his tension.

He relaxes slightly. “Of course. I will ask thee to trust me again.”

You shoot him a puzzled look. How could you trust him any more than you already have?

“Close thine eyes. I shall lead thee, hand in hand.”

The prospect of him holding your hand makes heat rush to your cheeks, but you comply. Closing your eyes, you hold out your hands, and a few seconds later, he grabs them in his much larger ones. He holds them delicately, as if you might break if he dares to squeeze your hands. His skin is surprisingly smooth and warm. 

“I will ensure thou dost not fall and injure thyself..” 

“I’d appreciate that.”

He chuckles at your comment, a sound so rare and pleasant you want to hear it again and again. He begins walking, gently guiding you down a hill and you soon feel sunlight on your skin. The air feels lighter and there is a pleasant smell of lavender and fresh grass in the air. You wonder where you could possibly be. You haven’t seen much greenery in the Realm of Shadow.

After a few minutes he stops and lets go of your hands. You instantly miss his warmth, but you soon feel the heat of him behind you. You keep your eyes closed out of obedience and trust; you know he would not harm you.

His hands gently find your waist and he moves you a few steps to the left. Satisfied, he lowers a hand over your eyes to ensure you will not open them prematurely.

“This place is sacred. Inviting thee here was not a spontaneous act.” His voice is a mere whisper in your ear. You can’t tell whether to be scared or excited for what he will soon allow you to see.

He moves his hand away from your eyes, but they remain closed. You will not sully his trust. 

You can hear the smile in his voice. He’s pleased by your obedience. 

“Open thine eyes.”

You do, and you are immediately greeted with a grassy field speckled with vibrant flowers. You’ve never seen so many in one place. You think it would take all day to identify them. Trickles of gold sit suspended in the air like shattered stained glass and the sunlight kisses your skin sweetly. Not far up a hill is a small village made up of a few wooden houses. They look old and mostly abandoned. You take in the beauty before you. Not even Leyendell was this spectacular.

“Thou’rt pleased, I take it?” His voice wavers slightly with uncertainty.

“This is a most wonderful surprise, My Lord. Thank you for bringing me here.” You look up at Messmer, whose golden eye seems to shine brighter in the sanctity of this place.

“Forget formalities here.” He sits down in the soft grass and you are soon to join him. He looks relaxed, even happy, here.

“May I ask where we are now?” You idly skim your fingertips over the silky petals of the flowers swaying in the breeze around your skirt.

“Mother’s home. Her village before she became a God.” 

Your mouth hangs open in shock. It takes you a few moments to gather yourself enough to speak. “Queen Marika lived here?”

“Yes,” he answers. “Long ago.”

You wonder if Marika wanted Messmer to guard her old home, or if he does it out of love for her. You’ve seen the state of other Shamans within his infirmary, his medics working day and night to try and reverse the torture they’d went through. You knew Marika was a Shaman herself, but you’d never realized this place was originally her home. Your heart hurts for the God-Queen. Behind all her power was a girl who wanted her people safe.

You sigh, and Messmer shoots you a curious look. “This is the first time I’ve seen Marika as a person. Knowing she lived here, knowing she suffered… I understand now.”

Messmer reaches up and takes his helmet off, gently placing it to his side. “Mother desired revenge for her peoples’ suffering, and I became her instrument to do so here, in the Land of Shadow.”

“Did you want this?” 

He closes his eye. “Mother has endured what a thousand people could not. I will ensure she receives her long-awaited deliverance.” He dodged the question. He does not want this, but he desires to avenge Marika.

“I know you won’t answer me truthfully, and we don’t have to talk about this anymore. But know this: you are not ‘The Impaler’ to me.”

“Thank you.” His response is so quiet you almost can’t hear it, despite being right next to him.

As promised, you change the subject. “Have you brought others here?”

He looks away and you can see a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

“I have not. The first to lay eyes on this place is thee.” He admits.

“Why?”

“I-“ he begins. “Surely thou must know thy importance to me, yes?” 

The realization hits you. 

This is his way of saying he loves you.

You scoot closer to him and lay your head against his arm. You feel him tense, then slowly begin to relax. One of his snakes gently perches itself on your shoulder. You smile.

“You can touch me, you know.” You reassure him. “You won’t break me.”

Silence hangs in the breeze as you wait for him to respond.

“Dost thou understand my reason for bringing thee here?”

You nod against him. “I think so.”

He moves away from you, earning himself a confused look, then he slowly grabs your hands and pulls you closer until you are comfortably sitting between his legs. You look up at him and see that his face is almost as red as his hair. He is adorable when he blushes.

You could get used to this.

“You will forgive me if I am too presumptuous. I am… not accustomed to touch, yet I want thee closer.” His soft, silky voice makes your heart melt.

“I want you closer too. It’s okay.” You cup his face with both hands, and though it’s a simple gesture, he relaxes into your touch almost immediately. His eye closes and you try to memorize the look of peace etched on his face.

“With thee, I am content.” He whispers to you.

“Then I’ll see to it that we’re never separated.” 

His eye flutters open and he hazily looks down at your lips. His hand engulfs your cheek and you feel the warmth radiating from his palm.

So many have met their demise from the man sitting in front of you now, content and complacent, and that thought sends shivers down your spine.

“No man nor God could tear thee away from me. That is a promise.” 

He leans forward and kisses you. His lips are soft and he pulls you closer to him and his hands are splayed possessively over your face and back. You don’t want to pull away, and you get the feeling he doesn’t want to either.

You are his as he is yours.

[thesassypadawan]

Beloved Master (Unburnt Darth Vader x FemPadawanReader)

Summary: After a traumatic series of events, you find yourself being held captive by the sith lord known as Darth Vader. Alone and unarmed, you wish so badly for your beloved master to be here with you. Be careful of what you wish for.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut.Size difference, hint of a breeding kink, and Vader’s big dick. Padawan reader is of age.

Notes:  The 'What If' Version: Beloved Master *Fragmented*

This is a non-burnt Vader fic.  Everything is still intact and has been ‘enhanced’ by the dark side of the force.

“Now behave yourself, jedi, the lord will be with you shortly.” The male attendant sneered, taking great joy in your current predicament.

Standing there, wearing nearly nothing; you tried your best to maintain what little dignity you had left. You gave him a small nod and muttered a quick thanks, before stepping inside the room.

“Try not to have too much fun,” he chuckled darkly and closed the door behind him.

Hearing the locks hiss into place, you began to reflect on the events that led up to this moment.

It had only been a few nights ago that you stood in the temple’s meditation garden. Waiting patiently for your beloved master to return from an ‘emergency meeting’. When your private comlink was hailed, his voice ringing out from it. “Run. Run swiftly. Run to me.”

Everything was fragmented and hazy after that.

The night sky was orange. There were cries of agony and pain all around you. The temple, your home, was engulfed in flames.

You felt utterly hopeless. Worried horribly about your master. Completely devastated at the thought of not saying those words to him one last time.

You tried to run, but someone tugged hard on your arm. Yelling at you to come with them, to ignore his call. Something happened to that someone in a blaze of blue light.

You were no longer being pulled, but carried away from the chaos. Being whispered to that it was ‘all going to be okay, you’re safe’.

That’s when your whole world went dark.

When you awoke, you found yourself locked up in a holding cell. Dressed in the most ridiculous outfit you have ever seen. One that left very little to the imagination.

You did not remain there long. Soon after, the male attendant had arrived. He, along with a pair of clone troopers, then escorted you swiftly to their lord’s private quarters. Apparently, this Vader fellow wanted to have an audience with you rather badly.

It was with this grim thought in mind that the weight of your situation truly set in.

You were alone. Stuck on an unknown planet, which you could feel was entirely encompassed in the dark side of the force. You were without your saber, it’s comforting presence no longer hanging from your hip. And, most gravely, you were about to presumably meet a sith lord.

Scanning your surroundings, you hoped to find something you could possibly use to defend yourself. Unfortunately, there was nothing in the lavish bed chamber that would provide much help.

You heard the door behind you slide open and then close.

Swallowing hard, you tried to compose yourself. Your master had always said to keep your wits about you when facing down an enemy. To stay centered within the force. To keep your mind clear.

How you so wished he was here with you now.

“I am, padawan of mine.”

Your eyes grew wide. “Master?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper. “Is that really you?”

Not waiting for an answer, you quickly whirled around. Instantly, a wave of relief washed over you. Standing before you, a gentle smile on his face, was…

“It’s me”, Anakin muttered.

Without a second thought you ran to him. And he easily scooped you up into his strong arms.

Burying your face into his tunic; you finally let the hot tears flow free. “Ani, it was horrible!” You sobbed softly.

Stroking your hair, he gently swayed back and forth with you. “Ssh, it’s okay. It’s all over.”

You squeezed him tight and whimpered. “I thought I had lost you.”

“Hey, look at me.” Hooking two fingers under your chin, he tilted your face upwards. “We’re never going to lose each other.”

Placing his hand on your cheek, he wiped away a stray tear with his thumb. “I made sure that we will always be together…no matter what,” he said malevolently.

Hearing his tone, it was as if you were suddenly released from sort of spell. Anakin was no longer the same, in oh so many ways.

His entire form had changed. He once only stood a head and a half taller, and now he absolutely dwarfed you. His hands were huge. His muscles blown enormous. He looked like an absolute beast, with yellow eyes and a heavy dark aura to match.

Maker, help you. He was the sith lord and you were finding it hard to resist him.

“Ani,” you spoke slowly, reaching to place a tiny hand on his chiseled chest. “What have you done?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with, angel,” he replied nonchalantly. “I did what was necessary.”

Tightening his arm around your waist, he somehow pulled you in even closer. “You should be more worried about what I’m going to do to you in that outfit,” he whispered huskily.

A small squeak escaped you as you were suddenly swept off your feet and whisked over to the bed.

Trapped underneath him, it truly sunk in how utterly massive he had become…and how tiny you were in comparison. You shivered at the thought. Whether it was from fear or excitement, you weren’t quite sure.

“What is it, padawan?” He chuckled, hovering above menacingly. “Afraid of your master?”

You shuddered once more as Anakin brushed his clothed length against your inner thigh. Stars, he felt gigantic. “No, master,” you whimpered.

A wide grin spread across his handsome face. “Good, because this is where the fun begins.”

He crashed his lips into yours. The kiss was hungry and passionate. The kind that made you wrap your arms around his thick neck and desperately pulled him closer, deepening it.

You could hear a rumble of approval in his chest. The sound causes a warmth to spread throughout your entire body.

Parting for air, Anakin gave you a mischievous look before burying his face into your neck. He kissed and bit at the sensitive flesh. Making you purr. Marking you as his for all to see.

His hand, all the while, lazily slid down your form. Coming to rest on your breast, he cupped and gave it a firm squeeze. Eliciting a soft moan from you.

“I love the sounds you make for me,” he muttered against your skin.

“Ani,” you mewled, hands tangling in his golden curls.

“I wonder,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your body. “What kind you’ll make when I do this?”

“Kriff!” You cried out as his warm mouth wrapped around your nipple. Sucking and nibbling at it through the paper-thin fabric. Causing your back to arch, your hips glancing one another in a fiery touch. You both groaned.

“Or better yet,” he whispered, sitting back on his legs. “What delicious sound will escape you when I do this?” With the wave of his two fingers, Anakin used the force to…

You let out a frightened squeal as the meager clothes were torn from your form. Instinctively you tried to cover yourself up with your hands, but he easily captured them in his much large one.

Pinning your arms above your head, he playfully scolded. “Now, now, don’t be shy. Let me see that beautiful body, little one.”

That name, it made you shiver. You could feel the dampness and you both knew it had shot straight to your soaking core.

“Oh? You liked that didn’t you?” He taunted, running his other big hand up and down your leg.

Wriggling beneath him, your cheeks burned hot. “I-I did, master,” you replied weakly.

He laughed darkly at your embarrassment and gave your hip a firm squeeze. “Tell me, tiny padawan of mine, what else would you like?”

“Your cock,” you whimpered. “I would like your cock inside of me.”

“Are you sure about that?” He mocked, flashing you a smirk.

Anakin used the force once more. This time removing his own clothes. Revealing…

Your eyes widened and your mouth went dry. He was absolutely massive, a true monster. And yet, you wanted him oh so badly.

“Please!” You begged; your voice laced with need. “Want it!”

“I don’t know.” He laid his heavy cock on your pussy, dragging it slowly between your folds. “You were barely able to take me before I became like this. Aren’t you afraid of what will happen now?”

You moaned softly as you found yourself slipping into a haze. “Don’t care! Need it!”

Suddenly, he removed all friction. You were about to whine in protest, until you felt him lining himself up with your entrance.

“All right, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

In a single, fluid motion, he pushed inside of you.

The two of hissed together, as you took every thick inch.

“So tight,” he growled as he bottomed out.

“So big,” you mewled. Relishing how full it made you feel. How his tip was dangerously pressed against your cervix.

Hiking your thighs onto his hips, he snaps them forward. Pounding into you at a brutal pace. Giving you no time to adjust to his colossal size.

“A-Ani…” You slurred, eyes going crossed from the stretch. “S-So big, An-Ani…”

He groaned at seeing your tummy bulge every time he thrusted back into you. “Yes, so big and yet your tiny cunt is taking me so well. Tell me, hatari, how much do you love it?”

You could feel the heat beginning to build in your core, tugging at you. “I love it! Love it so much!”

“Needy little thing,” he grunted. “Be a good girl now, let me into that perfect womb of yours. Going to fill you up so full. Going to make you heavy with the heir to my new empire.”

“M-Master…” You could barely form a sentence; you were so overwhelmed.

With a few more deep thrusts, he breached past the tight rim. Getting exactly what he wanted. “That’s it, that’s my sweet padawan,” he cooed.

You could feel the tears of ecstasy running down your cheeks. Your pussy clenching around him from the extra stretch. You were so painfully close and Anakin could tell.

“Let go,” he panted. “We’ll cum together, just like always.”

You went crashing over the edge. Mind blanking as waves of pleasure rolled through you.

His cock twitched inside of you. Filling you to the brim and beyond with his seed. Making your stomach round.

Catching your breath. Smiling warmly at one another. You both basked in the afterglow of it all.

Lacing his fingers with yours, still buried deep within you. Anakin placed a tender kiss on your forehead and whispered. “I love you. You’re going to look so beautiful carrying our child, my empress.”

A cold chill ran through you as you came back down from your high. You knew you should be terrified. That you should be distraught over the events that led up to this.

But as you gazed up into those yellow eyes…none of that mattered anymore. All that did was you being right by his side.

“I love you too, Lord Vader.”

[lovebugism]

could i request “mean” eddie and reader going swimming somewhere and maybe she’s in her swimsuit and someone says something that makes him jealous? also just want to say i love you writing sm!!! <3

hi, lovely! thanks so much for your request and your kind words!! i hope you like it xoxo (1.7k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Eddie can’t stop staring at you.

It’s not like it’s his fault, though. You’re all sprawled out beside him in a plastic lounge chair, clad only in a bathing suit that leaves little to the imagination. It’s an all-black number with little white bats all over it, clinging to you like it was made to do it.

It’s a wonder the two of you even made it to Hawkins Community Pool, honestly. Eddie's thoughts verge on obscene at the sight of you. But then again, they tend to when you're on his mind.

You lay with your hands folded above your head, totally surrendering yourself to the golden sunlight. It gives Eddie the opportunity to gaze at you fully — even though sometimes he thinks he’s already memorized you by now.

He analyzes you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you, like you’re the last thing he’ll ever see.

The pudge of the top of your breast spills over the hem of your bikini. The skin of your stomach bulges underneath your high-waisted bottoms. The fullness of your thighs begins to glow beneath the glittering daylight.

He commits all of this to memory and figures maybe that’s what the sun’s doing too, as it paints your skin more golden.

He doesn’t know how he got you. 

But he hopes your eyes are closed behind your thick glasses. Or, at the very least, that they block your view of him. Eddie knows he’s unabashedly staring at you, but he also knows he can’t stop. He doesn’t want his ogling to be met with your teasing — even if he is deserving of it.

The Lord of the Rings book in his hands goes quickly abandoned. It’s a feat he even made it to page fifty. He’s flipped through it enough times to memorize it, though. Sort of like you.

Like the novel, he could read you a million times and never get bored. The only real difference is he finds you much, much sexier than printed words on a page.

“I can feel you staring, you know?” 

Your voice jolts him from his stupor, light and golden like the slowly setting sun. Your words are nearly drowned out by the sounds of the bustling pool — screaming kids, splashing water, and people trying to converse over it all.

Eddie’s far too attuned to you not to hear you, though.

You’re not looking at him, but he can see the corner of your lip quirk in a slight half-smile.

“Can you?” he deadpans, turning back to his book like he hadn’t been looking at you at all.

The words are all mush, though. He’ll blame it on the stifling summer heat. He was the idiot out here in a black t-shirt and trunks, after all.

“Yeah,” you nod.

He sees your smile completely when you turn to look at him. The sun pierces through your amber lenses, making your eyes more visible beneath them. You’ve got one eye squinted to evade the blinding light. The beam you wear is somehow brighter.

“’S like spidey senses, you know? I can always tell when you’re looking at me, Munson.”

Eddie wants to be embarrassed at the thought. He knows that you’re joking — if only just the slightest bit — but it makes him think about all the other times he’s shamelessly gawked at you. He spent years doing it before you ever got together.

Many of his high school years were spent paying more attention to you than his homework. He thinks maybe that’s why he had such a hard time graduating.

“You’re saying my girlfriend’s a superhero?” the boy jokes, brows raised behind his curly bangs and chocolate eyes going wide. They look more golden in the sunlight, and they twinkle with mischief.

“Uh-huh,” you hum with a wider smile than before. “You didn’t know?”

He shakes his head. Some of his curls still stick to him, damp with the sweat beading on his milky skin. “No. I can confidently say that I didn’t.”

“Good. It was supposed to be a secret, anyway.”

Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh, but he does.

It’s a sharp exhale through his nose more than anything, paired with a crooked pink smile. He wishes he knew how much of a dork you were a year ago. He might’ve asked you out sooner.

“Brush up on your spidey senses before you go out patrolling the neighborhood, alright, Spiderwoman?” he jests in a monotone, turning the page of his book even though he hadn’t actually read it. “’Cause I totally wasn’t staring at you.”

You know he’s lying.

And it’s not just because you could feel it — even though you think his button-eyed gaze can be palpable in its attentiveness at times. But what you lacked in superhero senses, you made up for in awareness of all things Eddie Munson. 

You knew when he got quiet that he was in his own head. And being that you hadn’t heard a single page turn in several minutes, you figured his eyes must’ve been on something other than the book in his hands.

Your quip was hardly more than a lucky guess, really.

“Good,” you hum as you flip over onto your stomach. Your backside had been completely deprived of sunlight before now. You prop yourself up on your elbows and lift your sunglasses to the top of your head. Your teasing gaze is no longer amber-coated. “‘Cause that would mean you find me attractive.”

“And that would just be a travesty, wouldn’t it?” Eddie scoffs.

He looks over at you again and finds your changed position. Your back is pointed towards the sun now, the very bottom of your ass on full display. Your thighs are indented softly from the slatted chair beneath you.

He can’t pry his eyes off the combination of the two despite knowing you’re watching him right back.

“It’s okay if you have the hots for me, Eds,” you tell him, feigning sympathy. “I’d only make fun of you a little bit.”

Eddie stays silent for half a moment too long, then shakes his head to dismiss the thought. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. It’s just the heat.”

You scoff. “Yeah. Let’s blame the way you’re ogling at me on sunstroke.”

He still finds it a bit difficult to be your boyfriend sometimes — or just a boyfriend. And it’s not because of you. Not in the slightest. He just sort of put a wall around himself when he was younger. He’s been behind it so long he’s forgotten how to let people back in.  

And even though he hasn’t said it yet, he loves the goddamn shit outta you. But for some reason, he can’t let himself be vulnerable in that way — can’t even ask to touch you without coming up with some lame excuse that covers up all his vulnerable-ness.

“You, uh… You put sunscreen on, right?” he asks, shifting slightly in his chair. He spares a brief glance your way from the corner of his eye, halfway concealed by the fluffy brown curls framing his face.

“Yeah?” you answer with pinched brows. “Right after I forced you to put some on, remember?”

He scrunches his nose as he squints at you. It takes everything in you not to lean over and kiss the tip of it. “I don’t know,” the boy singsongs as he tilts his head to his shoulder. “I don’t remember it, actually…”

“Then maybe you’re the one that needs to get checked out, Eds.”

“I think I should just put some lotion on your back,” he summarizes with a shrug, already rising from his chair to swing his legs over the side of it. “You know, just to be safe.”

The teasing glint in his eyes makes you grin. You trap your bottom lip between your teeth to dim its brightness, lest how happy he makes you go to his head.

Your feet lift in their air and twist together with a girlish excitement. It makes your ass wiggle gently. Eddie swears you’re doing it just to tease him.

“Get my legs, too, while you’re at, yeah?” you quip.

Eddie reaches for the tote beside your chair with an effervescence that can only be described as a boy on Christmas morning — his present: the opportunity to touch you. He rises again with the blue bottle in his hand.

A low whistle sounds from behind the both of you.

“Looking good, sweetheart,” Billy compliments with a smirk as he walks by your chair. He’s in his lifeguard uniform — a pair of red swim trunks and his toned, golden torso.

He lifts his sunglasses from his face and rests them on top of his curled mullet. His crystal blue eyes gape at you, far sharper than Eddie’s chocolate syrup ones.

“Bite me, Hargrove,” you deadpan in response.

“I like the sound of that,” he laughs, chomping spearmint gum between his pearly white teeth. He spins on his flip-flops and walks backward to keep ogling at you. “Just give me the word and I’m yours, darlin’.”

He disappears in the bustling crowd after that, fading like rubbed-in sunscreen. You forget about him the second he’s gone.

He’s always been an asshole like that. It’d be a rookie mistake to give more than half a shit about him. But Eddie still feels the boy’s presence like a mean, lean, green monster full of envy. It’s like he’s still there — close enough to punch, even.

He isn’t sure if it’s the heat or if he’s actually seeing red.

“What an asshole,” you murmur under your breath.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Eddie snaps.

“Whoa,” you drawl within a laugh. “Slow your roll, tiger.”

The boy's eyes go wide as he looks over at you again. “I’m not even sure what I just said, honestly.”

“You’re a dork who plays Dungeons and Dragons, remember? You can’t start talking about fighting Billy Hargrove.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right,” he sighs, rigid body finally loosening with the heavy exhale. He squints at you after. “You don’t think I could take him?”

“I don’t thank you have to,” you lilt.

“That’s such a non-answer, babe.”

“I’m just saying,” you giggle with a shrug. “I’m asking you to feel me up, Eds. Not that creep.”

A rosy smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, smug and full of love.

You meet it with a grin of your own. 

“C’mon, I’m burning to a crisp over here,” you urge, shifting in the chair just to make your thighs jiggle in the way you know Eddie likes.

His eyes glaze over at the sight — one he’s seen a million times now — and you know it’s done the trick.

“Let’s give Hargrove a show, yeah?”

[azsazz]

Hide (Part 2)

Eris x Rhysands!Sister Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Literally in love with every fic you write. I know your requests are closed but in the future, could you write something where Eris and the reader see each other and there’s a lot of tension and they’re secretly mates but no one knows? I’m curious to see how you’d end it!

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1,428

[Part One]

Notes: Obsessing over this one.

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You swallow harshly at your brother’s question, eyes darting over to catalogue your mate. You try not to startle in your seat when a wall of harsh autumn winds slams between your bond. He’s only protecting you; you must remind yourself. There’s a fine tremble to your hands, so you clench them together in your lap. 

Azriel notes the move, your restlessness as Rhysand stares down your mate like these are his last moments on this plane of existence. You have no idea what Rhysand’s going to do to Eris, but with the thick darkness rolling from his shoulders and slowly filling the room, whatever it might be will not be good.

You cannot let that happen. 

“Rhysand—"

Your brother holds up a hand, his glare swinging towards you. The thin line of betrayal ringing his eyes makes your stomach roil. You hadn’t meant to break his trust and you never intended on keeping secrets from him, but with the courts on the edge of war…

“Do. Not. Speak.” Rhysand’s demand is a death knell of its own. When you were young, you remember how he’d always been the one to listen to any of your problems, even when they felt silly. He would always offer you a solution if you were looking for one, or a piece of cake if you only wanted to wallow in your feelings. 

The smell of burning wood answers his harsh words. 

Cassian shifts in his seat, eyeing Eris. He leans further back in his chair and places his hand on the table, the wicked curve of the short blade clutched firmly in his hand pointing directly at your mate.

Your bond flares, eyes going hard at the sight of the threat to your mate. You’re ready to jump out of your seat, scramble across the table to tackle the male, no matter how much you consider him family. You know all of Cassian’s weak spots, and your gaze is calculating as you decide which maneuver will draw him away from your mate.

The single look Eris sends you keeps you from reacting. 

Instead, you settle back in your seat, showing Eris your unfaltering trust for him. You will allow your mate to say his piece to your brother. You might be crossing your arms over your chest with a hard look all your own, but you will heed Eris’ silent ask of you.

Eris is a mask of nonchalance, and you wish he hadn’t blocked you from his feelings, but it’s better this way. He cannot have your reactions to your brother muddling his own feelings. It’s safer for the both of you to keep to yourself right now, no matter how much you hate the idea of being apart from him like this.

“I will ask you once more,” Rhysand’s voice is filled with smoke. “How long have you been putting your filthy fucking hands on my sister.”

Something flares in Eris’ russet eyes that makes you want to bite, to snarl at your brother for his cruelness. You gnaw the insides of your cheeks to keep from snapping. 

“Would hearing that answer please you, High Lord?” Eris snarks back. He sits easily in his seat as if this isn’t an interrogation at all, as if they’re all bantering over the weather and Rhysand isn’t looking at him like he’s about to unleash the beast within him that he keeps on a short chain. The only give to Eris’ temper are the burnt handprints on the armrests of the chair he’s lounging in. “To know that the fires of autumn light the stars of night?” 

You want to hiss at him for his words. You should’ve known better that Eris would do nothing but taunt your brother. He is nowhere near as powerful as Rhys, especially since he is still under the rule of his father, but his specialty is that mouth of his. 

You try not to think about how he uses that mouth when he’s with you, the yearning for him flooding your body so deeply you clench your thighs together. Another motion that Azriel tracks, cocking his head a little as he watches you with that unnervingly stoic face of his. You shoot him a pleading look but are unable to make out how he reads into your pleas not to hurt your mate.

Rhysand bares his teeth in warning. The flare of his nostrils and the stars winking out of his eyes tells you that he’s moments away from unleashing his wrath upon Eris.

“Two years,” you blurt and all gazes swing your way. You don’t look at anyone else except for Eris, your eyes soft and pleading. His eyes flicker back and forth between yours and his shoulders slump a little, cracking the steel trap blocking your bond to send down a cool rush of apology that you accept with a soft nod. “We’ve been mated for two years.” 

There’s a sharp exhale coming from your brother but you can’t look away from your mate. Two years since you offered him that dessert from your favorite bakery the one time you’d been able to sneak away from your brother and his friends to meet Eris at the portal where Night crossed into Autumn. 

Two years of fiery, passionate nights, hidden away in your own solace. Two years of a fresh breath of autumn, of copper hair and russet eyes and the warmest hands you’ve ever had the pleasure of touching. Two years of unyielding loyalty. Two years of too much time spent apart—

No more. You won’t have it. Rhysand can act as protective older brother as much as he wants but it isn’t going to stop you from being with Eris any longer.

Darkness of your own ekes out of you as you plant your hands on the smooth surface of the table and rise. You stare Rhysand down as the tendrils of black wind around his, Azriel, and Cassian’s wrists, pinning them to their spots. You are in no way matching Rhysand’s power, but he seems at a loss for words as you stand up for yourself, watching with those all too calculating feline eyes of his, allowing you your time.

Stalking around the table, you don’t break the High Lord’s gaze. You hold your chin high even if there’s a pinch of terror in your gut for this continued betrayal to your brother, to your court. But he has no idea what you’ve given up for this bond, how you’ve suffered being kept from your mate. 

One day, you hope Rhysand will understand. Will understand why you halt a step behind where your mate is still trapped to his chair. Why you place a hand on his shoulder, the feeling of him after so long filling your lungs to maximum capacity. You haven’t ben able to breathe fully since you’ve been away from each other. 

He’ll understand why it is that your actions look like you’re swearing fealty to another court, when you’ve already been a patron of autumn ever since you and Eris completed your mating bond. 

“What are you—“ Your brother breathes when he realizes the severity of what you’re doing.

“I will not be kept from my mate any longer.” Your words are loud and sure. You think you’ve done a good job at standing up to Rhysand, until his eyes flicker and the house shakes on its studs.

All of the air is sucked from the room at your words. The strip of skin you’re touching on Eris’ neck warms, but it does little to settle you. You’re not out of the clear yet.

Slowly, all too slowly, Rhysand leans back in his seat. The way he’s looking at you makes you shift in your spot, the disbelief and  in his eyes a bright streak before he snuffs it out, returning to the easy role of High Lord he’s practices meticulously for centuries. 

It hurts to see.

With a careless flick of his hand he breaks through your shadows with ease. All of the darkness in the room dissipates, ever faithful to their master. You only hold an ounce of power compared to him. 

The corner of his mouth curves, and if it’s a smirk or a snarl you don’t know, but neither is as harrowing as the words that slip past his lips. “I wonder which will get you killed faster—your loyalty or your love.” Rhysand stands, turning his back on you as he stalks towards the door. “Get out of my court.”

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Tagging those who commented if you don't want to be tagged on this just lmk <3 Some of you couldn't be tagged btw

Hide Taglist: @littlestw01f @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen @naturakaashi @lexluvswriting @chybay22 @roseliey @acotar-thirst @teenagellamaangel @minaethrym @tothestarsandwhateverend @coolepowersthings @lena-davina @xyzmeh @meritxellao @shadowdaddysposts @callsigns-haze @mrs-azriel @eminvelaris @daily-does-of-sass @kennedy-brooke

[barefoot-joker]

Destined for Heaven, Stolen by the Devil~ Yandere!Lucifer X Reader

Hey, guys and welcome to another Lucifer story. I'm sorry I write for him a lot. I just find to him be a very relatable character and I love him so much! Anyway, this fic deals with heavy Christianity themes, so I did my best to research. If something is wrong, please tell me and I'll do my best to fix it. I was very inspired by the song 'The Plagues' from "The Prince of Egypt". As always, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 2899

Warnings: Heavy Christianity Themes/Beliefs, Swearing, Christianity Mocking, Slight Possessive Tendencies, Reader's Aunt likes crystals, Reader Dies, Kidnapping?

I sighed as my mother pulled a light blue cardigan over my shoulders. She dusted off my dress and fixed my hair so that I looked presentable. Today was Sunday so that meant we had to go to church. I wasn’t too fond of going and I would have rather been playing in the backyard as a twelve year old does. However, my mom made it her duty to take me and make me a good Christian girl. “Why do we have to go, mom? It’s soooo boring!”

I stuck out my tongue at her. She gently pushed it back in. “You know I want our family to have a good relationship with the Lord. It’s our Christian duty. Besides, going to church is in your blood. After all-”

“Yeah, yeah. God told you that I was destined to be a wife for Adam. How can you believe that? It came to you in a dream.”

“Y/n M/n L/n! You do not question God’s ways! You know better! Now come on, we don’t want to be late.”

Dragging me by the hand, she ushered me into the family Cadillac and sped off. I sighed heavily. There were so many things I’d rather be doing than go to church. I could be with my friends, heck I could be at my cool Aunt’s house. “Hey, mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“When are we going to visit Aunt Hailey? When she called you said we’d be seeing her soon.”

“I only said that to get her off my back. You know how I feel about her.”

I grunted and crossed my arms. Aunt Hailey was seen as the black sheep in the family all because she was wealthy. A lot of our relatives (my mother included) thought she sold her soul to the Devil in order to be immensely rich and refused to interact with her. I, however, thought she was so cool. When she used to come over she’d regale to me hundreds of stories about her travels around the world. She even showed me her cool crystal collection when we went over to her house a few times. “Now don’t be like that. It’s not ladylike.”

I grunted again and slid down in the tan leather seat. A few minutes later the car was parked in the church parking lot and I was being dragged inside. Sometimes I wish I had siblings so I wasn’t the only one to feel mom’s wrath. She seated us near the front and handed me the heavy white Bible from the pew. I robotically turned to the page with the Lord’s prayer and stood when Pastor Bob entered. We began reciting the Lord’s prayer and sang a hymn before we sat. I didn’t pay much attention as our Priest told us his sermon for the day but I didn’t dare to look around the room. I had to look the part after all. Fidgety, I played with my ring finger. Glancing down, I took in the birthmark that oddly looked like an apple. I remember it showing up after I stayed at Aunt Hailey’s house one day. I never told my mother about it though. I was often reminded of the tale of Eve and the apple and I don’t know what she would do if ever saw the fruit insignia. After the sermon and another hymn, it was time for communion. We all stood in line and when it was my turn I took the small Ritz cracker and ate it. I coughed lightly and then took a sip from the golden chalice. My mom and I returned to our seats and when everyone was done, we recited the Lord’s prayer one final time. Thank goodness it was over. 

As we walked out, I was forced to shake hands with our elderly Pastor. “How is my favorite little disciple doing today?”

I cringed at that. Ever since my mother told the church of her insane dream I was treated like some goddess. “Good.”

“That’s great to hear. I look forward to our weekly blessing.”

“Of course, Pastor Bob,” my mom butted in, “we wouldn’t miss it.”

He smiled and bid us both ado. We walked back to the car and drove home. As we passed by houses in our neighborhood, I looked longingly at the kids playing. Besides church, Sunday was dedicated to my education of becoming a housewife so when I did die and go to Heaven I was prepared. Parking the car, we went inside. I slipped off my Mary Janes and put them by the door. The rest of the day was spent cleaning, doing embroidery work and cooking. Just as I was getting ready for bed, the phone rang. I went into the kitchen and picked up the landline. “Hello?”

“Is my dear Y/n there?”

“This is her.”

“It’s your Aunt Hailey.”

“Auntie! Hi! How are you?”

She chuckled. “I am good, my darling. And you? Surviving another day in that stuffy house?”

I giggled at her commentary. “I’ve been okay. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering when you can come over. I was talking with a friend the other day and he would like to meet you properly. I believe he saw you at my house when you were five.”

“I’d love to come over! Let me ask mom real quick.”

I walked into the living room and pressed the phone to my chest. “Hey, mom. Aunt Hailey’s on the phone. She wants to know when I can come over.”

She looked up from her book and glared at the phone. “You know my answer.”

“Come on, mom! It’ll just be for a day!”

“I don’t know.”

“Please! I promise when I get back I’ll focus on my wifely duties! Please!”

I gave her puppy dog eyes and slightly whimpered. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Alright. You can go tomorrow, but I expect you to stay true to your promise. You know how God would feel if you went back on your word.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

I lifted the phone up to my ear and quickly ran into the kitchen. “She said I can come tomorrow.”

“Wonderful! I’ll see you then, my dear.”

“Bye, Auntie!”

“Goodbye for now, darling.”

I ended the call and put the phone back on the receiver. I returned to the living room where mom and I did our nightly prayer. When we finished, she gave my forehead a kiss and sent me to bed. 

The next morning I dressed in a plaid dress shirt, brown capri pants and black oxfords. I bounced in the passenger seat giddily as my mother parked the car in my Aunt’s gravel driveway. “Now remember to behave. I don’t need any calls about your disobedience.”

“I’ll be good, I will.”

“That’s my girl. And you have your cross necklace?”

“Yes, mom. Can I go now?”

She kissed my forehead and I got out of the car. “Be safe! Call me if something happens and I’ll be back around dinner to pick you up!”

“Okay mom, bye!”

I waved and she drove off. I turned towards my relative’s mansion and walked up the stone steps. I grabbed the handle from the golden lion’s head and gave three loud knocks on the large oak door. The door opened to reveal Timothy, my Hailey’s middle aged butler. “Ah Miss Y/n, we were expecting you. Please come in.”

He stood to the side and allowed me inside. Closing the door, he led me across the marble floor to one of the drawing rooms near the back. I could hear muffled voices talking as we entered, Timothy clearing his throat. “Your niece is here, madam.”

“Thank you, Timothy. That will be all.”

He bowed and exited the room. My Auntie smiled and gestured for me to come over. I ran to her and gave her a big hug. Her navy silk and lace dress clung to me. “It’s so good to see you, darling! I’ve missed you so!”

“I’ve missed you too!”

I pulled away and she motioned to the gold and floral print armchair next to her. I sat and looked at her guest on the chaise lounge. He seemed quite the esteemed gentleman. He had slicked back blonde hair, pale skin and red eyes. I found them quite odd but didn’t judge. Mother said it was bad to judge based upon appearances. He wore a white suit with a red dress shirt, a black tie with black flower detailing, black leather gloves and shiny black dress shoes. He was on the shorter side as well. “Y/n, I’d like you to meet my friend Luci. He’s the one to thank for my wealth.”

The man stood and bowed to me. He took my hand and kissed my apple birthmark. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, my little apple. Your Aunt has told me so much about you.”

“It’s good to meet you too, sir.”

“So polite. Your mother is raising you right.”

“Except for the amount of gospel she puts in my poor baby’s head. I swear all because of her fucking dream, she’s gone total Bible thumper.”

Luci titled his head to the side. “Oh you’ll have to tell me over tea. Speaking of which, I think Timothy has finished setting up the garden for us.”

“Splendid!”

We all stood and the blonde offered me his arm. I gladly took it and we walked outside to Hailey’s marble floored porch. A metal table sat in the middle overlooking her large flower garden, a lacy white tablecloth set on top. Luci pulled out my chair and after I sat, pushed it in. He sat next to me and began pouring tea for all of us. Today Timothy had picked out the clear glass kettle so we could see the yellow liquid inside and the pastel teacups. I thanked Auntie’s friend when he poured into my cup and marveled at the small pink flower floating. “I see we’re having chrysanthemum tea. You know it’s your Auntie’s favorite.”

I giggled and picked up my cup. Blowing a little, I took a sip and smiled at the sweet taste. “So you were talking about Y/n’s mother?”

“Ah yes. She’s always been a Christian woman, believing in the power above. Then one night she had a dream, a vision she calls it, that Y/n is to be the third wife of the first man Adam. Ever since then she’s been obsessively devoted and is dragging my poor niece with her.”

“I see.”

Luci seemed to become stiff at the mention of Heaven and God. Perhaps it was a touchy subject?

“So God came to her and said this, hm?”

“Sure as shit supposedly.”

The three of us sipped our tea in silence. “So has school been going, my dear?”

“Good, Auntie. We learned how to do cursive in English the other day so now I can write my name all fancy!”

“That’s great, darling. Anything else?”

“I’ve been feeling kind of left out lately.”

Both adults turned to me in curiosity. “How so?”

“Well none of the other kids my age are really learning wifely duties, at least not as much as me. When I want to go outside and play mom forces me to do my skills.”

“Wifely duties? Pray do tell,” Luci cocked an eyebrow.

“I learned how to clean the house from top to bottom, cook all three meals, sew, embroider, and do laundry. Basically anything my mom deems necessary to please this angelic husband of mine.”

“I can assure you it will come in handy. Especially with how much of pigish brute he is.”

“How do you know?”

“I just got that impression when I’ve read his passages in the Bible, sweetie.”

“Oh.”

“If you had a real man I can be sure you wouldn’t need those skills, darling,” Auntie piped up, sipping her tea.

“A real man? Like who?”

“Like Luci for example!”

I turned to the blonde and he smiled. His eyes glinted with what looked like adoration. He gently grabbed my hand and held it, his hands quite warm through his gloves. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back of my hand. “It’s true. If you were my wife you wouldn’t want for nothing. Every day would be spent in marital bliss.”

“Sounds gross!”

He chuckled and kissed my hand again. “When you’re older you’ll come to love it.”

‘If you say so.”

“I know so.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent listening to Luci’s tales from his travels while drinking our tea. They were quite intriguing and full of adventure. The people he met, the places he went were all so fascinating. It soon became dinner time and true to her word my mom sat in the driveway. Luci walked me to the door and gave a little bow. “It was a pleasure to chat with you, Y/n. I have a feeling we will see each other more in the future.”

“I hope so. You’re so cool, Luci!”

He smirked and patted my head. “Farewell, little lady.”

“Goodbye, Luci!”

I gave him a quick hug before running to the car.

Sure enough as I grew up I ran into the short blonde more often than not. From trips to the grocery store to when I was allowed at Aunt Hailey’s house, we would bump into each other. We’d always exchange a few words and always those red eyes sparkled bright around me. 

That was eleven years ago. Now I lay in a hospital bed, feeling like I was on the brink of death. A few years after meeting Luci I had gotten terribly ill. I was feverish, pale and felt nauseous. My mother was worried and took me to the clinic. I was just diagnosed with the flu. I took my medicine and stayed in bed as best as possible but the final straw was when I fainted in the backyard while gardening. Since then, I had been in and out of hospital with different doctors viewing me like prize cattle. I was poked, prodded and dug at only to be told no one had a clue as to why I was sick. It was like it had just fallen upon me. My mother became even more obsessive in her Christian ways. I was blessed every weekend and prayed upon every day to try and heal my mysterious illness. I was forced to drink holy water at every opportunity and had to wear my cross necklace with two rosaries. 

Currently, I was coughing so hard I felt like I dislocated my lungs. My mother sat next to me holding my hand, a rosary wrapping around us. As I continued to cough she pushed some hair out of my face. “You’re going to be alright, honey. Just stay strong.”

After my coughing fit, I laid back and tried to catch my breath. “I feel like I’m dying.”

Her hand tightened around mine and I could feel her body shake with sobs. “Maybe this is God’s way of letting us know Adam needs you. As much as I’d hate to see my baby go, you’d finally fulfill your purpose.”

“Mom, please. Not now.”

“I’m sorry.”

A knock at the door made us both look over. There in the entryway stood Luci, his white hat with the dark red band hanging tightly in his hands. “Come in.”

He stepped forward and gave a small smile. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

“Y/n! Language!”

“Sorry.”

He chuckled and came to my side, putting a hand on my shoulder. “May I have a moment alone, please?”

My mom looked at me and I gave a curt nod. She sighed and stood. “I’ll go get something to eat. I’ll be back later, honey.”

She gave my forehead a kiss and walked out, shutting the door behind her. Luci took her place in the chair next to my bed. “What can I do for you, handsome?”

“I wanted to come see you. Hailey told me how you were faring and I knew I needed to come immediately.”

“I appreciate that. Especially since I feel like this may be the last time you see me.”

“Nonsense. We will always find each other, even in death.”

He brought his hand up and caressed my cheek. I smiled and then began coughing. I turned away and hacked into my arm, only turning back when I was done. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

His hand wrapped around mine and squoze tightly. “You know, I could end your suffering right now.”

“Yeah right.”

“I’m not lying to you, my dear. One small kiss and you’d go peacefully.”

“Luci-”

“And then we can be together forever. Adam, not even Heaven will keep you from me.”

“What are you talking about?” “Just kiss me.”

What could go wrong? I was already suffering so much.

“...Alright.”

He leaned forward and connected our lips. He tasted sweet like caramel apples and I just melted. My soul felt like it was being sucked out of my body and when he pulled away I couldn’t breathe. “You’re mine, little apple. Forever and always.”

He caressed my hand and my eyes closed.

The beeping of the heart monitor slowed and then faded to silence all together.

[papurgaatika]

Scarcely Can Speak For My Thinking, What You’d Do To Me Tonight

Pairing: VA! Joel Miller x f! reader 

Minors DNI with my work please!!

A/N: howdy howdy my lovelies. I know what yall are thinking: papaya didn't you post a fic literally less than two weeks ago? And to that I would say yes, yes I did. However, I have been working on this one for a while and somehow managed to finish it on the plane! Thank you as always to my lovely beta readers @carlynkurin and @joelsdagger The title is a Hozier lyric (are yall really surprised?) This is officially dedicated to my beloved @joeloverture and despite my darling vetty's step off of tumblr, she truly deserves the world. also if you're mean to her i will find you. that is a threat

I hope y'all enjoy the read, and that the filth keeps you going in times of need. Peace and love on the planet Earth from me!!! Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!!

Tags: Erotic voice actor Joel! AU, Young Joel, No outbreak AU, smut, condescension, degradation, f! masturbation, praise, squirting, smut, LOTS of dirty talk, oral (f receiving) friends to lovers, fingering, voice kink, Joel loves thighs, Joel Miller arm appreciation, the reader is a mess, no use of y/n, Joel can pick reader up but he’s HUGE so it makes sense, no description of reader, 18+ Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: you have been using audio erotica to get off for a month, and manage to accidentally let it play in Joel's car, leading to an awkward night in 

You let out an exhausted huff as the dim light of your phone reflected on your face. Your headphones connected, your vibrator was charged, but in some godforsaken twist of fate, there was not a single thing worth listening to on the newest audio erotica page you could find. Videos hadn’t been doing it for you, the ethical concerns were too high for you to be horny, and as much as you liked a good fanfic, you had gone through most of the ones you liked and needed something new.  You click on a post with semi intriguing tags, immediately rolling your eyes and exiting out of it when you hear the all too familiar vocal fry of men trying to sound hotter. News flash: you don't. 

You were moments away from calling it a night and opening your backlog of smutty ao3 fics when another post caught your eye. You let out a snort at the username save_a_horse and glance at the tags. Okay you were definitely interested now, a degrading instructional… you hit play with baited breath, prepping for the worst, but you were so mistaken. 

“Filthy little thing aint ya?” the voice rings in your ears, heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly quickly. “Must be so pathetic if you’re clicking on a mean stranger's voice to get ya’self off” his voice was like hot honey. Sickly sweet and keeping you waiting for his every word but with an edge that stung in the best way. You shuffle yourself back onto the pillows and throw your covers off, fully prepared to enjoy this rare gem. Your breathing picks up, heavy with want as the man in your ears calls you a desperate little slut. 

“Go on, get your toy wet slut” his voice croons out at you “know ya have one, too fuckin’ needy not to.'' Always eager to please, your lips find the base of your curved g-spot vibrator and let the soft plastic fill your mouth, drawing sounds that were almost too debauched for you to be sitting in bed alone. “Bet you love havin your mouth filled like that.. Lord, I'd love to have your pretty little lips around my cock” your eyes practically roll back at that, spit running down the base of your toy before he finally tells you to put it in.  

“Atta girl, such an eager thing” The toy sinks into your sopping cunt with ease as the voice envelops your mind, solely focusing on him. You listen with intense obedience as he tells you how deep, how quick, how much you were allowed. “Go on then, fuck yourself on it. We both know you want to” 

You let out a soft cry as you slip the toy in and out, the curve just hitting the spot that makes your back arch. Your breathing hitches as you press down on the button to turn the vibrations on. “Creamin’ all over yourself I bet,” it was like he could see you. Like he was able to see your arousal dripping onto the sheets below you, how the damp sheets clung to your thighs as they shook and twitched with pleasure. 

“Bet you’re so damn close.. Go on then slut, cum while listenin’ to me'' he taunts slightly as your orgasm washes over you in waves. “Gonna ruin ya,” his words are assertive, less of a promise and almost a threat “ain’t gonna cum unless it's to my voice anymore. Good fuckin’ girl”  You take a few steadying breaths as the audio clicks off, and you blink up at your ceiling unsure of how to go on from there. You glance down at your phone which has made its way to the opposite side of your bed and move to grab it.

You hit play on another audio. 

As the weeks go on, you and the mysterious cowboy in your ears have an immensely good time together. You practically spend every night listening to every one of his audios, leaving silly comments on the ones that make you cum particularly hard. It might have been an issue, how often you found yourself waiting for him to upload, how quickly you would pause your tasks to listen to new updates, but you were having fun and it wasn’t like you were hurting anyone in the process. 

You had just finished an audio before the blaring noise of a horn outside your door rattled you. The clock on your phone taunts you as do the several missed calls and texts from your best friend. “Fuck. fuck okay” you grumble, grabbing a towel and wiping yourself off before tossing a pair of comfy shorts on and grabbing your bag, and heading outside “have you never heard of a virtue called patience miller?” you quip as you slide into the passenger seat of his truck 

“Had it for the first five minutes, but about 10 minutes after that, I was damn ready to break your door down myself” he scoffs “what took you so damn long?” he rolls his eyes as you fiddle with the bluetooth in his car, not wanting to be stuck with what you call ‘old home music’ 

“I was just finishi-” your words are cut off when the sound of a moan plays over the speaker. Just your luck. You kept the grumpiest man alive waiting and then played porn in his car. Hooray for you. “Jesus fucking-” you squeak, fiddling with your phone and closing out of the app “Joel-” you start, cheeks burning and excuses already at the tip of your tongue, before he silently shakes his head and puts the car in reverse. 

The ride back to his house is awkward to say the least. “Joel listen I didn't mean for-” you mumble out meekly, but his sharp gaze on yours has you clamping your mouth closed immediately. You fiddle with your fingers, thinking about playing music, but it just doesn’t feel right anymore. The grip Joel has on the steering wheel is practically iron-clad, his knuckles almost white with the tension as he pulls into his driveway and puts the car in park. You walk into his house with a huff, your weekly game nights off to a bit of a rocky start, but you’ve had to deal with worse with him. Joel had given you moral support when your menstrual cup had gotten “stuck” during one of your first times using it, he could deal with knowing you listened to porn. 

You plop down onto his couch, stretching your legs out on the coffee table while he gets you a glass of iced tea. You take a sip of your drink and mentally prepare yourself for how bad he was going to tease you about this, but are met with shocking amounts of silence. For a man who is ruthless on game nights, the lack of trash talk and absolute avoidance was almost irritating you. Finally, after you beat him in uno for a third time in a row, you snap “What is your issue tonight miller?” you groan, placing a +2 card down “Listen I know that was awkward but we’re both adults I don't see what the big deal is'' 

Joel groans and places another +2, changing the color (much to your annoyance,) “just drop it, nothin’s the issue”  You, petulant and stubborn as ever, did not drop it. You huff as you have to take like 5 cards from the deck before getting one that you can play, and narrow your eyes at him. 

“Bullshit” you move to sit cross-legged on the couch “I never beat you in this game, something is wrong with you tonight,”  it was almost as if nobody had ever taught you not to poke a sleeping bear. Or maybe you figured that the bear was your best friend and probably wouldn't bite your head off… probably. 

“Just drop it peaches,” his words are terse, hands gripping his, now slowly diminishing, uno cards much tighter than he needed to. You groan again when you have to get another few cards. The irritation at his childish behavior, coupled with the stack of 20 cards in your hand makes you more of a menace than you probably should. 

“Don't be such a baby, Miller,” you poke his leg with your foot knowing full well he hates it, a yelp leaving your lips as he grabs your ankle and pulls you forward “Joel!” Your cards fly out of your hand 

“Told you to fuckin’ quit it peach.” His voice is a low timber, stirring something deep in your belly. “Never fuckin’ listen to me” 

You just snort at him when he releases your ankle, moving to pick up your cards, “you suck at uno today Joel” you hmph, rising to your feet “'m gonna get something else” you hear Joel protest and try to grab at your arm but you’re too determined and he’s far too comfy to get up quick enough.  You manage to make it to his spare room, swinging the door open, imagining you’d see a shelf with his board games only to stop dead in your tracks, “what the fuck-”

What you had always assumed was just his spare junk room or random linen closet, was what looked like an at home recording studio. A desk with a PC and speakers, full microphone set up, and what you could only assume was something to help with soundproofing  “What the fuck Miller?” Your voice is slightly full of awe, “are you recording shitty male superiority podcasts now?” you tease, a sly grin on your face. 

Despite how pleased you are with that crack at him, he looks absolutely unamused. He practically clomps over at you, big finger poking your ribs ``you know damn well I ain't doin’ that shit.” He rolls his eyes at your teasing. The idea of Joel Miller getting on the internet to talk about women in a way that wasn't him sitting at his desk going ‘they’re the best damn thing’ was laughable. He was a perfect gentleman to everyone, except maybe to you, but frankly you deserved it for all the shit you gave him. 

You squeak when his finger prods at your skin “okay, okay well what creepy shit are you doing in here then?” you wiggle your eyebrows at him, sauntering to his PC set up. The computer and speakers were calling out to you like a siren, and you did not have the common sense to plug your ears. 

Joel knew you. He could read you like a fucking book with how close the two of you were. He used to say that the one braincell you had spent fifty percent of its time inside his mind with how predictable you were to him. “Peach do not fuckin’ dare-” his voice is low, warning you. 

If you had better self preservation skills you would have probably heard the alarm bells ringing in your head telling you that he was serious, or paid better attention to the way his sweats were a little more tight. But you unfortunately were a complete menace, so neither of those items really registered to you. You clap your hands in an evil little giggle when you move the mouse “still no password? Shit you make my life so fucking easy-” you grin as you see the different clips of audio layered together in whatever program he uses 

Joel has somehow silently appeared behind you, his hand pulling you away from the computer. “Quit it peach, I’m not fuckin’ around,” he grits out, the hold on your wrist almost impossibly tight. He means business this time, and despite how much of a hellion you can be to him, you didn’t have a death wish. 

You scrunch your nose at him trying to pull your wrist out of his grip “okay jesus chri-” you yank your hand away from his, elbow bumping into the keyboard and are cut off with the sound of a gravely moan coming out of the speaker. Both you and Joel look like deer caught in the headlights. Your eyes flick between Joel, whose face has gone impressively red, and the screen of his computer.  “I- joel this is-” you stumble over your words, unsure of what to say in this situation. 

“Not a fuckin’ peep.” he practically growls at you. Your mouth clamps shut as he leans over you and presses pause on the audio. Your mouth is drier than it had ever been. That was a clip of your best friend, the one who was looming over you at this very moment, moaning into a microphone. You were certain that if you had listened any closer you would have been able to hear the sounds of his hand stroking his cock. The slight creak of his chair, the wet noise of the lube, or was he a spit guy? He however, was not interested in sharing any more of the audio with you, and you would deny it if anyone asked, you were a little disappointed. 

You need to say something, you had to, and despite your better judgment telling you not to, you do. “I mean you sound nice-” You sound nice?? You were so fucking ridiculous, even you knew that wasn’t the thing to say. Joel’s eyes darken at your words, and for a moment you fear he’s going to kick you out, to get truly pissed off at you for the first time since you finished his Dr. Pepper stash.  “I didn't mean-” you try to backtrack “I just meant- it... You sounded like you were enjoying yourself at least-'' you were actively digging the hole that you were in deeper, rambling and stuttering, all while Joel just stared at you silently, his eyes burning into you

You swallow hard, his eyes still not leaving yours “listen I can go I'm sorry I shouldn't have-” you go to make a beeline out of the room but a firm hand pulling you back into the chair stops you. You fall back with an oof and look up at Joel, who by all accounts looked pissed but there was something else. His pupils were blown and his eyes trace every single one of your movements. The bear had managed to lock in the own cage you had set out for him. 

“Didn't tell you to leave.” he practically grunts at you. Ladies and gentlemen, your best friend, always the most well spoken person in the room. You move to protest again, but the look he gives you stops the words before they even form on your tongue.  you bite your lip and fiddle with your fingers unsure what to do “think I sound nice peaches?” his voice cuts through the anxious rambling in your brain and you're almost certain you've heard him wrong 

“Huh?” you look back up at him through your lashes. He was leaning against the wall where his microphone was set up. His sweats were riding low on his hips and his hoodie covered the toned muscles of his arms, that if anyone asked you had never stared at. The tanned skin you never dared to fantasize about in your bed. The hair that covered his arms, the veins that often made more appearances when you asked forced him to do manual labor that you refused to do yourself. 

“Asked if you think I sound nice, Peaches?” he hums, raising a questioning brow at you. your mouth opens and closes ridiculously a few times before you simply just nod at him  “that's good..” he muses as he comes back up to you “do you think about me?” he prods, a patronizing pout on his lips as you gape up at him. “when you're listening to those dirty little audios and lettin’ your fingers touch that needy cunt?”  you can't help but squeak at his words. the way he said them, the way he spoke was just so… familiar  “come on, pretty peach, tell daddy what you think about when you're fingering that slutty little pussy” he practically grins at you and it fucking clicks. 

Daddy. Daddy. It was him. The stupid cowboy, the random man whose voice sent your tummy into knots, the one who had been getting you off for weeks now was your best friend.  “Joel-” you practically whimper at him. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest and also very distinctly between your legs. “Listen i didn’t know it was you-” there’s a shit eating smirk on his face, one that you would have told him to wipe off his face before you smack it off in any other scenario. 

“No?” he hums at you, his brow quirked up as he towers over you in that stupid recording chair “didn't know it was me when you were commenting all those pretty little reviews?” You whimper out a noise, somewhere between a no and a general sound of timidity, as his hand tilts your chin up to meet his eyes  “Lemme see if I can remember what it was you said before I got you in the car today peach?” he takes a moment to obnoxiously tap his forehead mocking the way you recall things “what was it you said? ‘This made me late to see my friend, but it also made me ruin my sheets’? Was that it peaches?” 

You take a shaky breath, your skin burning under his intense gaze, chin still in his hands. You nod softly at his question, knowing that if you didn't, he would just push you until you did. His grin turns wolfish at your confirmation, and you feel him shift his legs between yours, pushing them apart “yeah peach?” he tuts at you “made me wait for almost 20 minutes outside your house. just so you could cum to my voice… ain’t real nice of you” You take a wobbly breath at his words and try to reply, unsure of what you would even say. An apology maybe, an explanation? But before you can even move to open your mouth he’s cutting you off again 

“Woulda just given you the real thing baby,” he tuts at you “all you had to do was ask.'' His voice is low and almost condescending. You shouldn’t let it turn you on, you should tell him to fuck off, but you feel yourself gush at his tone, your bottom lip getting caught between you teeth. He whistles at the look on your face, his cock practically straining against his sweats, “bet you’re just creamin’ in those slutty little shorts baby'' his words aren’t a question, he’s stating it like he can read you like a book because he knows he can. His legs shift to press your legs further apart until your knees are bumping into the arm rests, your eyes unwavering from his.

Your breath is caught in your throat as he leans down to you, his lips pressed up by one of your ears “Listen to me like this peaches?” he whispers into your ear, a warm breath making you shiver before he moves to the other side “like having me in your ears with your legs spread?” 

“Yes.. fuck yes yes I do-” your words are rushed and lustful as you feel his hands dip into the waistband of your panties. Your hips jolt up into his touch, panties absolutely drenched with your arousal. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, lips parting with a silent cry of pleasure. 

“Knew she’d be droolin’ all over” he hums as he brings his slick covered finger up to his lips and tastes you with delectable pop when he pulls off. “Tastes like I fuckin’ imagined. Like a fuckin’ peach” he groans and for a moment you swear you could cum just like that. 

“Shit Joel please-” he cuts you off with a shake of his head and a shushing noise, as he steps away from you. Your legs are still spread against the chair and you practically whine when he moves away from you, flicking on his recording set up. “Joel what-” he shushes you again, giving you a look that leaves no room for argument. 

“Quiet,” he mumbles, fiddling with the mic and pulling the rolling chair closer to it. “Like listenin’ to me so much, thought i’d use you for better effects. You okay with that peaches?” he asks, looking down at you. Despite the teasing and the mockery, you knew he would stop if you told him you didn't want it. But the idea of him stopping, even for a moment was going to make you explode. You nod, maybe too eagerly for someone about to get fucked on microphone, and he grins. 

“God always knew you were fuckin’ desperate for it” he kneels between your legs, and you stifle a giggle when his knees pop.  “Quit it you menace” He swats at your thigh playful smirk on his lips, making you jump slightly. “Gotta stay real quiet for me, understand?” you watch with bated breath as he moves the mic so it rests delicately in the tension filled space between your spread thighs and his face. 

You nod, lips parted, pupils blown, cunt practically dripping for him. He lets out a soft hum of approval, lips pressing a soft kiss to your thighs “nothing fuckin’ softer than a pair of soft thighs” he muses, half to himself, half to you and the mic “could just live between them forever, die happy if a girl pretty as a peach would let me bury my face there.” You feel yourself clench around nothing, feeling maddeningly empty all of a sudden. You shift to try to gain some friction, the chair giving a slight creak at the change in position. Joel looks up and glares at you, your body going still immediately under the intensity of his eyes. 

He sticks his hand out behind him, pausing the microphone from recording. “You need to stay. still.” he grits out at you “don't need the whole internet hearing how much of a desperate little thing you are.” You nod at his words, hands gripping the armrests so hard your knuckles turn white. He flicks the mic back on and his lips find your thighs again. Nipping and kissing the soft flesh just below the hem of your shorts. He slides his hands further up, popping the button open and you have to bite down on your fist not to moan when he drags the zipper down with his teeth. He shimmies you out of your shorts, leaving your bottom half clad in your embarrassingly wet panties. 

He lets out a growl at the sight of your cunt, clothed and practically dripping for him. “Look at her… practically creaming already and I ain’t even touched you yet” He lets his thumb press against the wet spot the slight pressure just barely teasing your sopping hole dragging a breathy sigh out of you. You look down at him, eyes hooded and lips parting, practically begging for him without uttering a damn word. 

He looks up at you as he slides your panties to the side, blowing a stream of cold air straight onto your clit, making you jump. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy…” he practically salivates at the sight of you “nothin’ fucking better than seein’ a drippy, needy, little cunt in front of me…” he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, right next to where you want him, where you need his lips 

You feel a shiver run down your spine at his words. Somehow it felt filthier being able to see the look on his face, the absolute need he had to taste you. The grip he had on your thighs was bruisingly tight, not helping your arousal die down in the slightest. His mouth finally finds your slit, tongue licking a hot wet stripe at an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a guttural moan and practically salivates at the taste of you. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet” he groans, tongue dipping back down to taste more of your slick. One of your hands leaves the armrest of the chair and moves to cover your mouth when his lips place three gentle kisses around your clit before relenting and wrapping his lips around the aching bud, with a quiet hum. 

You bite down on your hand to stifle the moans threatening to spill, desperate and eager to please him. Your thighs shake when he slips a finger into your dripping cunt and curls them to hit that spot. He lets out a chuckle, lips still sucking on your clit. The vibrations of his warm breath on your aching clit elicited a desperate wine from your mouth, despite how hard you were trying to be quiet for him “Ffffuck-” 

He raises a brow at you, not even pulling away from your skin, his baby eyes just gazing at you from between your legs as his fingers work at you. Your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth in an effort to stop your sounds, but your attempts seem futile as your climax starts to draw near. Joel slips a second finger inside of you with embarrassing ease, the sound of his fingers curling inside you, joined only by your soft little breaths and his lips on your clit. His fingers stretch you in ways your fingers never have, scissoring and sliding inside of you with practiced precision. “Atta fuckin’ girl..” he growls as your toes curl instinctively, heels digging into his shoulder blades as the coil inside of you finally snaps. You feel yourself gush on his fingers, your thighs clamping around his head as he works you through it “squirtin’ all over daddy’s face huh like the needy thing you are.” 

He pulls your legs off from his legs and hits save on the audio, before glancing back at you with a smirk. “Ain’t posting that anywhere..” he whispers, the gentleness a shocking turn around from the filth he whispered to you earlier. Your breath is still coming out in shaky pants, looking up at him through hazy lids “keepin’ that all to myself” he hums, pressing a little kiss on your head. 

He scoops you up like you’re a ragdoll and practically clomps over to his bedroom, throwing you onto the bed. His fingers work deftly at the tie of his sweats, pushing them off. You squeak softly when you see the trail of hair going down his pelvis, the lack of boxers making heat rise to your chest. You work your top off, while he throws his hoodie across the room, a guttural groan leaving his mouth as he sees your breasts. “Fuckin’ perfect..'' His words aren’t necessarily for you, his thoughts just find themselves being voiced aloud. His calloused hands grope and knead at the softness of your tits before he presses wet kisses to each of your nipples. “Need to be inside ya” he practically begs, cock hard against his stomach leaking pre-cum. 

You could salivate at the sight, hell you truly might have a little bit. “Fuck me, Daddy, need you to fuck me Joel, please i can be good im ready, I'm on the pill-” your words were babbled, fast and rushed together, your intense desire for the man in front of you the only thing your brain could comprehend. Your legs part on the bed, your arousal dripping down your thighs calling to him like flowers call to a honeybee. 

“Christ, baby,” he groans before grabbing your legs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. He fists his cock and slides it through your aching pussy, both of you letting out simultaneous cries of shit when your wetness coats his length. He slides into you with gentle thrusts, letting you adjust to his size slowly, before sinking in all the way with a soft whimper “take me so good…” his words are quiet and breathless, almost as if he was in awe of how your body made room for him. 

“Oh my god-” you cry out, your hands fisting in the dark sheets under your skin. “so fucking big joel..” you clench around him, body on fire with how good he felt inside you, with how perfect it was. It was like you were made to take him like this. His thrusts get faster and your legs curl around his waist, pulling him in as deep as you possibly could. The feeling of his hand pressing on your lower stomach has you arching your back into his touch. 

“Perfect fucking thing,” he grits huskier than usual, with a thrust that knocks the air from your lungs. “Feel me peaches?” he thrusts into you again and presses on your tummy “right fuckin’ there.. Right where I god damn belong…” his words were lust filled and hazy, his own need and orgasm clouding all judgment. Your hips roll against his, the coarse hair brushing up against you, and your head lolls back into the mattress as his thrusts get sloppier. 

“Inside, Joel fuck-” you whimper at him, eyes wide and pleading as your second orgasm builds in the pits of your belly “please cum inside me, wanna feel you please..” for a moment he swears he’s died and gone to heaven. The sounds of your pretty little moans and begging are like a dream come true for him. He just nodded and shifted so he was practically cradling your body under his, cock buried so deep inside you that you knew you’d be feeling it for days afterward. 

He grinds his hips lazily against yours while his thrusts are shallow and pointed. Your legs shake while you meet his lips in a sloppy kiss, all tongue and teeth as you both fall apart practically molded together. “Jesus christ-” his breathing is ragged and hoarse “takin’ me so damn good, gonna fuckin’ fill you up” he gives a few more thrusts before he pulls out of your quivering pussy, your own orgasm sending stars into your eyes. 

You both stay like that for a moment, Joel's forehead resting softly on your shoulder as his cum spills out onto his bed. You shift softly to pull him next to you and curl into his touch, giving him a cheeky smile as you tilt his face to meet your eyes. “You…” a breathless little laugh escapes your lips “how long did you know I was commenting on your posts?” you ask softly, brows raised at him. 

He snorts at the question and flicks your forehead gently, earning a playful pout to be thrown in his direction. “Bout damn near two weeks ago” he replies, classic shit eating grin plastered to his face. “Figured it was you when you came over lookin’ like you’d won the damn Powerball and some little fan called peaches_and_cream left a comment about cummin’ three times to one damn post” you let out a muffled groan and bury your head into his chest, mumbling something about him being an asshole before you both shift into a comfortable silence. 

He moves, patting your hip and telling you to go use the bathroom after a few minutes, preaching his favorite safe sex speech and you roll your eyes at him before you saunter over to his bathroom. “Oh and Joel-” you call out before you walk in, eyes meeting his as he waits for you to finish your sentence “send me that audio, would ya?” 

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free

READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. Silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist.

PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS. 

Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

[greenunoreversecard]

Idk if your asks are open, but if they are could I request Alastor with a Teen!Reader that didn't have a lot of support while alive so they clung into him/look up to him?

A Koala and It's Tree ->Platonic! Alastor x Teen reader

Koalas don't tend to leave their home trees. The same can be said for you and Alastor.

You died, a ripe age of 16. Suicide was what it was ruled as, but it wasn't exactly believed by all. Not like the living could ask if you running your car off the highway was on purpose or not.

But the past is the past, torture and turmoil of it all left behind with the life you scorned.

And so you looked forward.

And despite the elusive nature one might assume of hell, you found your people, and like koalas, your home tree.

You found Alastor.

At first, you both hated each other. But, in neigh time you and him became peas in a pod. Mentor y mentè.

He gave you things you've never had, nor experienced. He supported your.. somewhat unorthodox ideas (but who is he to judge) and he took you under his wing in the most trying of times. He cared for you like his own, took you to work, and showed you the ropes hell.

He cared for you, and most of all, he gave you your home. He was your tree (sometimes literally)

--

It was an early morning when rapping at your door awoke you, accompanied by a small static sound you've come to associate with the person closest to your family.

Your door creaks open, and a chipper voice rings out;

"Good morning my dear! Why, it's much to late to still be in bed, up! Come now, we've plenty to do.-"

You groan and roll over, trying to cover your face from the light invading your senses as he opened your curtains.

"Now now, you know we've got ourself a meeting with a few other big shots, and it's best we get going now so we can still get to Rosie's to stop by that bakery she's insisting the cats pajamas-"

You groan again, and roll over and uncover your face.

"Man, no cappa, you sound old as balls. Who says cats pajamas?"

"And who says 'cappa' what in the lords name is a cappa"

You roll your eyes, and stand up, cracking your back. As you do so, alastor hands yoi clothes he's picked out for you to wear. He has a overlord meeting, and you guess by Extension it's now "bring your semi-adopted kid work day".

You go get changed in your bathroom, as well as brush your teeth and hair, and other hygienic processes, before stepping out.

"Ah, looking swell as always my dear! Are you ready?"

You nod, rubbing your eyes sleepily, and link your arm with the one he offered you as you drew closer.

Yeah, you've dealt with shit. But, sometimes, it's all worth it when you finally find your family, or in some cases, your tree. (of a semi adopted father)

--------

A/N: hope this was OK, and hope it was up to par. I tried to go vague ish, but if you wanted more hurt/comfort type stuff you can just lemme know and I'm wiing to make a separate fic. Thank you for requesting, and hope you don't mind I did a little blurb. Lemme know if you had smth else in mind!

Hope it was OK for my first request 👉👈

[utterlyotterlyx]

A Ballad of Storm and Shadow

Azriel x F!Reader

Part Three

Summary - Rhys had been content in taking the darkest secret of his family to the grave, but when the threat of Hybern increases, he has no choice but to send a message to another world and pray to the Mother that his call is answered.

Warnings - fluff, mentions of blood, mentions of war, pining

Part One Part Two

This is a crossover series, some aspects will differ from that in the books. Physical attributes are described in this fic, it is essential to the storyline of the character

"Would you mind not staring at my sisters ass, Azriel?"

The smug words of Rhys pulled the Shadowsinger from his thoughts, of what he'd never be able to divulge, but he was certainly pulled from them unwillingly. With red threatening to tinge his cheeks, Azriel uttered a silent apology, unaware that his eyes had been so trained on the backside of Rhys' queen sister.

That morning, Cassian had awoken with far too much confidence, patting y/n on the head and telling her that he'd go easy on her if she asked nicely, to which she had simply hummed and smirked in reply, her eyes finding Rowan across the room swimming with faux annoyance as he passed another grape between his lips, scowling at Aelin when she asked him if he'd like some birdseed instead.

So when y/n sauntered into the Peregryns training grounds clad in a tight black second skin, did Cassian realise that he had most certainly underestimated her, and his thoughts were confirmed by the wicked smiles of Rowan and Aelin who were perched upon a nearby rock. It seemed as though Cassian's challenge had reached the ears of Helion and Eris, both of whom had decided to join the group on the training grounds that morning.

Helion was slightly unnerved by y/n's lack of interest in him the night before; he had gone to spend time with the Inner Circle that he adored so dearly, especially the males within it, but found himself completely awestruck by the Fae Queen before his eyes, an exact mirror to the High Lord of the Night Court but darker in ways that threatened to make him salivate.

Her attention was completely held by her brother the evening before, they spent hours telling stories of their lives, the good and bad, the funny and heart-breaking, and by the end of it the pair seemed rather inseparable. It was Aelin who had to remind them that their presence within Prythian wasn't permanent, that y/n had a people and land to return to in Erilea, and that fact dampened her mood somewhat, so much so that she took herself to bed not long afterward.

It wasn't like y/n didn't want to return to Erilea, or home if you could even call it that, but she wished to stay with her brother in her homeland for as long as she possibly could. Even with her mother, y/n had always felt out of place, like she never truly belonged there, but the moment her eyes connected with those of her brother, the one who used to read her to sleep when she was a babe, did she feel her soul settle.

"You look a little scared Cass," Mor shouted across the ring that y/n had stepped into, hair unbound and swaying at her hips, feathered wings that rivalled the Peregryns own folded neatly behind her back.

Azriel wasn't the only one who seemed to agree with the second skin she wore, noting how it hugged her hips and curved around her breasts perfectly, like it had been moulded to her body and was made for her and her alone. Eris also enjoyed looking at her, and he was far less polite about it than Azriel was.

"No," Cassian huffed, securing the leather of his fingerless gloves around his wrists and rolling his shoulders, "She doesn't even have a weapon."

Cassian's confidence was torn apart by Rowan's laugh, a hearty thing that erupted from his lips which had him almost keeling over on the spot, "Sorry, sorry," he breathed through his laughter, waving a hand in the air and stealing Cassian's attention away from y/n's darkening eyes, "It's just how you think she needs a weapon to end your existence is hilarious to me."

During Cassian's confusion, y/n prowled around the ring, head tilted as her violet orbs assessed each and every muscle and curve, how each one contracted and moved like water rushing around a riverbend. By the time Cassian turned to face his partner for the morning, there was little to no time to stop her onslaught, y/n slid between his legs, grasping his ankles with her fingers and swept the ground from beneath his feet.

Within moments the Lord of Bloodshed had risen to his feet, bouncing back and forth on the balls of them, "That's cheating," he scolded, and y/n simply shrugged and twirled a strand of her raven hair around her finger.

"Distractions get you killed. I thought that you'd be wise enough to know that, considering you're a big tough Illyrian warrior," her voice was low and sultry, violet orbs peered from beneath her lashes and she moved around the edge of the ring, each step sending shockwaves through the dirt.

With nostrils flaring, Cassian paced across the ring, and Azriel watched her heels dig into the ground as he reached for her. Nothing in the universe would have given Cassian the agility to be able to capture y/n, every time he turned she'd slip between his legs or under his arms, or winnow half way across the training ground and taunt him to approach her.

Once he finally landed a single blow to her ribs, although by pure luck, she returned it with three perfectly synced kicks to his knees, abdomen, and then face, the power in her legs sending him sailing through the crisp morning air, and he landed in the dirt with a heavy thud, skidding to the edge of the ring where Helion stood choking back a smirk.

Looking upward, Cassian seethed at the grin on Helion's face, his lips contorting into a growl as he pushed himself up to stand, swirling on his feet to find y/n not even breaking a sweat and instead leaning against Aelin idly picking at her nails. Unphased. Unbothered.

"Amren," he strained, and the firedrake moved to his side, leaving her place by the rack of weapons standing toward the mouth of the ring, "Spear. Now."

Amren smirked and sauntered over to the rack, coiling her fingers around a beautifully crafted oak spear with a tip of jagged glass and throwing it to Cassian whose eyes remained unmoving from the Fae Queen before his eyes.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Rhys' eyes danced with wonder, and he spoke, to Azriel or Feyre or anyone who would listen, "This is going to be interesting."

Azriel couldn't help but notice how everyone's orbs had become fixated upon y/n, the one who had sent the Lord of Bloodshed crashing into the ground with not much effort at all. She dragged her gaze across the spear in Cassian's hands, her eyes widening with a sickening delight as she craned her head to whisper something to Rowan, her lips moving slow and sure.

Not long after she had withdrew her whisper from her companion, Rowan pushed himself from the rock and reached behind him to retrieve two twin blades, curved and sharp and gleaming in the early morning sunlight. Rowan handed the blades to y/n, nodding once to her as she twirled them between her fingers to assess the weight of the weapons, balancing them on her fingers, throwing them up in the air and catching them with ease.

"Don't hold this against me," she spoke aloud, her voice drifting to Rhys in knowing that she was about to harm the general of his armies.

The pair circled one another, Cassian's knuckles turning white around the beam, and y/n's fingers holding steady and true.

Cassian lunged first, and y/n expertly dodged his attack by sweeping away from him like a phantom wind, rounding on the pads of her feet to face him again as he turned. The tension was suffocating, and it seemed as though y/n was tired of his lunges and feeble attempts to knock her off of her feet. So she ascended upon his position, knocking every jab of his spear away with the fortified muscle of her forearm, hair swaying in the breeze and feet dancing closer and closer to Cassian until he was at her complete mercy.

Y/N moved gracefully, feline almost, her arms moved like the wind, adjusting their course when necessary, and she brought her taut fury down upon Cassian, slicing through his leathers and drawing blood from his shoulders and thighs; and when Cassian dropped her to the ground, she simply rose to her knees and curled on them, dragging her blade right across his midsection before coiling her legs around his own and rolling him beneath her.

With the blood coated blade pressed against his bobbing throat, y/n asked sweetly, "Do you yield?"

Panting, and knowing there was no way of winning, not when bloodlust danced in her violet orbs, Cassian breathed, "I yield."

Rising to her feet, y/n offered a hand to Cassian which he took albeit tentatively, and she hauled him to his feet, the muscles in her thighs rippling as she did and steadied his weight against her, "Remind me to never underestimate you again."

Biting back a laugh, y/n motioned to Helion, knowing that his healing touch was what Cassian needed, "I don't think you'll ever need a reminder." Helion gladly removed Cassian from y/n's grip, sending her an impressed smirk and a curt bow of the head before moving the Lord of Bloodshed elsewhere so that he may be able to begin healing him.

Ruffling her wings, y/n turned to Rowan who wore a proud smile, so wide that his gleaming canines could be seen from across the training ring, "I knew I taught you well."

There was a tone of adoration in his words, Azriel noticed, but not romantic, it was the type of adoration you'd find in the words of family, "You did," y/n admitted, walking into his open arm and allowing it to drape over her shoulder whilst Aelin barked on about how that wasn't even a real show of y/n's true power.

"How does someone even fight like that?" Azriel asked himself, catching the beaming smile and calming eyes searching the space, connecting with his own and sending him a subtle wink.

Rhys, nudging into Azriel slightly, spoke lightly, in total awe of what he had just witnessed, a part of him never thinking such a display of raw power and strength was possible, "She grew up in a world where such ability is needed. Mother above."

"Do I even want to know what she's faced to be able to fight like that?" Feyre asked in a whisper, eyes trained on the trio bickering by the rock formation at the edge of the ring now coated with Cassian's blood.

"Yes," Azriel answered too quickly, unable to move his gaze away from her whilst knowing that both Rhys and Feyre were exploring his face with knowing eyes and grins, "I want to know everything."

Though, before Azriel could cross the ring, the same ring that he would have usually infiltrated to save his brother, Rowan and Aelin had taken her away, gently nudging y/n back toward the Dawn Court Palace that loomed in the distance. And Azriel knew in that moment that he would do anything he could to get her alone, if only to know who she was under the mask that she wore.

The second meeting had passed without any other issues, and y/n had watched each and every High Lord make their statements and desires known whilst she and her cadre watched on, waiting for another spectacle to occur like it had at the meeting prior.

And y/n was surprised when the attitudes and composure of the men before her had eddied to calm and stoic. Cassian winced with every movement he made, most of the damage had been tended to, but the bruises to his skin and ego wouldn't be disappearing any time soon.

"And what is it that you want?" Aelin nudged an idly drifting y/n at the question sent her way by Thesan, "For your assistance in this war. What is it that you want?"

Glancing to Aelin and Rowan, y/n straightened in her seat, "I want no lands of titles, there is nothing material that this world could offer us that we don't already have," it was selfish really, her desired gain from a war that would kill thousands, "All I ask for is the blessing to come and go from this world as we please. My brother is here, as is his family, and I wish to be a part of that as well as my own. In return, there are materials in my lands that don't exist here, we can provide you with weapons, and train you in our fighting and healing techniques. We seek an alliance to last until eons after we are all dust. We have seen too much war and bloodshed and loss," Aelin smiled sadly, "We seek harmony."

"A Queen indeed," Helion drawled with a smile, knowing that all she had said was as true as it could be, "Is that all? You could beckon a husband? Perhaps a High Lord?"

As fast as it came and went, Azriel noticed the lightening glance she stole toward him, and she spoke, in a voice like a glorious storm, "I think you'll find that Lords cower before me. My match is someone who welcomes the darkness, someone who is not and will never be afraid of what it holds," y/n's fingers curled around the arms of her chair, and she continued, "To be able to see my brother whenever I wish is all I want, yes."

Thesan dragged his orbs around the room, seeing no objections from the eyes meeting his stare, "Your desire is our honour to grant."

"Thank you."

The second meeting of the summit concurred, and the High Lords and their companions and lovers took their time speaking their farewells. Helion strode up to y/n last, appreciating her figure in the strapless taupe gown she adorned which was glittered in a million crystals, shining dimly in the light from their dwindling sizes; he took her hand in his, noting the length of her talons, and pressed his lips to her knuckles, "It was a pleasure laying eyes on you," he told her gently, his warmth spreading across her skin, "I suppose I'll see you on the battlefield."

"That you will. Try not to gawk, you may end up six feet under."

Helion backed away with a smirk, still facing the exquisite woman before his amber orbs, "I won't make promises that I cannot keep, Your Majesty."

Then he left, taking his clan with him after one final goodbye to Rhys. Aelin appeared at y/n's side, staring after Helion with a feline wonder in her eyes, "I bet you anything that he's a firecracker in bed."

"Aelin," y/n scolded whilst trying to contain a grin, knowing that the thought had passed through her mind rather shamelessly the night prior.

"Don't scold her," Rowan drawled from her other side, he too peering at the retreating High Lord, "She's not wrong."

"Remind me to bring Aedion and Lorcan next time," she barrelled her fists into either of their arms, noticing the High Lords leaving one by one, "I suppose we should be leaving too."

Aelin titled her head slightly at the tone of defeat and longing in y/n's mouth, glancing to Rowan who nodded once to his mate in agreement to her silent thoughts.

"Perhaps it would be a wise idea if you stayed," Aelin twirled a strand of y/n's raven hair in her fingers, her sentence had caught the attention of an already eagerly awaiting Inner Circle, and they moved to the trio without invitation.

"But, Doranelle-"

"Will be fine," Aelin motioned between her and Rowan, "We will ensure it, and I'm sure Manon would love to play queen for a bit," sensing y/n's apprehension, Aelin continued, "We are not leaving you, and you are not abandoning your people. Our nations are one, it will be alright."

Azriel moved to y/n's side, his shadows peppering her wings with their wonder causing them to rustle slightly with silent delight, and Azriel felt the waves of comfort pour from her, "When was the last time you saw Velaris?"

Turning to face the Shadowsinger, y/n clearly already knew the answer to the question, "It's been too long," her eyes swam with the lost time, and Azriel gingerly settled a hand beneath her elbow, a crutch to do what it was that she wished, and offered her a gentle smile, and she returned it, "Are you sure?" Y/N turned back to Aelin and Rowan who both nodded, "And if you need me-"

"We'll get Lorcan to pull on the bond," Rowan rolled his eyes playfully and closed the gap between him and y/n, pressing his lips into her hairline before taking a step backward, "Live, y/n. Embrace whatever time you have, it's a gift.""

Bond.

Did y/n have a mate?

Azriel's mind swam with possibility, but his marred fingers did not once leave her skin, not for even a moment, "Alright, but prepare yourselves for the arguments once you return without me," y/n waved her fingers and a rippling portal appeared upon the steps where they stood, showing a land of rolling hills and white mountains awaiting beyond.

Pointing a long finger to Rhys, Aelin with a tone of warning spoke, "Look after her."

"Such a mother hen, Aelin," the blonde haired queen rolled her eyes as she stepped to the edge of the portal, dragging Rowan with her.

"No, that's him," and before Rowan could retort in his usual dry fashion, Aelin pulled him through the portal and sent y/n a singular wink as the portal rippled smaller and smaller, until it had vanished completely.

Turning to face Azriel, still feeling his touch against her skin and soul, y/n moved her gaze to Rhys, not moving, not wanting to be away from the comfort of Azriel for even a moment, "So, Velaris then?"

Rhys smiled, taking a step toward his sister, "It's missed you."

"How do you know?"

Shrugging, Rhys spoke with knowing eyes, "You'll see," he offered a hand to her, partly to be able to winnow her into the City of Starlight, but also to get her away from Azriel for a moment, already sensing the Shadowsinger's obsession growing.

"I'd like to fly. It's been awhile since I've been able to stretch my wings," and as if sensing the wind in their feathers, her wings unfolded to reveal the most beautiful set of wings Azriel had ever seen. They were as dark as the night itself, glossed with a thousand stars, and the apex of the one million layered fathers stretched upward to the ceiling.

Before Rhys could offer his guidance, Azriel cut through his thoughts, "I can accompany you, if you'd like?"

With a glitter in her eyes, y/n accepted Azriel's offer and allowed him to guide her outside to one of the balconies encrusted around the duomo of the palace. Peering over the edge of the railing and seeing the drop below, y/n inhaled the crisp air of the horizon, allowed the depleting sun to seep into her skin, "Let's see how fast you can fly, Shadowsinger," and then she leant backward, toppling from the edge and embarking on the most glorious free fall she had endured since the time she had escaped the clutches of her mother.

When she was but metres from the ground, her wings instinctively caught the wind and propelled her upward, sending her soaring past the balcony where she heard Cassian's barking laughter and jeering resonate as she drifted over the dome. It wasn't long until Azriel joined her, smirking at her display and unable to find the words to convey his feelings. His heart was still lodged in his throat from stupidly believing that y/n would be nothing but blood and bones against the rocks below, another mistake of underestimation.

Their wings levelled out, Azriel flying just to the side below her, and y/n couldn't help but watch the world go by as they flew over mountain ranges and fields plush with wildlife, towns and villages glowed gold beneath her eye as the moon began her ascent into the sky, glittering the sky in a violet hue. It was wild to know that she had never witnessed her homeland in such a way, or at all really, but she welcomed each sight like an infant exploring a forest for the first time, stopping at every rock and stream possible.

Watching how the wind swept through her hair, Azriel wondered what it would be like to run his marred fingers through, the silky gloss to it beckoned him in a way even the darkness could not, and he found himself edging closer to her with each passing second.

"I never realised how beautiful it is," y/n muttered to no one in particular, it was more of an aloud statement than an invitation for conversation, and Azriel knew that but chose to engage in it anyway.

"What is Doranelle like?" Azriel observed how her eyes softened in memory, the violet orbs that rivalled Rhys' own shining. What Azriel would give to see the world through eyes like that, mesmerising but calculating, a perfect myriad of awe and observation.

Casting her mind to the city shrouded in pale stone and flowing rivers, a soft smile found her lips, "Doranelle is beautiful," she stated simply, "It's known as the City of Rivers. My mother built the city there to protect her against Brannon's heir. Against Aelin." There was much to her story that she wasn't sure that she'd ever divulge, from the arguments she used to have with Rowan and the initial place she stood at the beginning of the war, to the darkness that lurked within her thanks to her mother and the danger that came with it.

Though, Rowan and Aelin had worked very hard to settle that part of y/n's soul, the part that salivated over the light and sought to devour any form of power that crossed it, and, thanks to their help along with Manon and Yrene, y/n found herself paying little heed to that dark spot hiding within her essence.

"The city is just beyond the Cambrian Mountains and lies east in the continent of Wendlyn. The air is heavy with spice and magic, and I don't ever remember a time when rain found the city naturally," she twirled in the air, diving and dipping without a care in the world.

It was true. Doranelle lay in a rich valley lush with mountains and forests, and it was rare that any negative weather descended upon the City of Rivers, not unless she willed it to and each time she had y/n had been punished greatly.

"It sounds beautiful," Azriel turned onto his back, gazing upward at the Queen of the Fae and appreciating her beauty whilst her wings flapped in long lazy strokes, "Your mother built the city to protect herself against Aelin?"

With orbs darkening, y/n found Azriel's gaze, ignoring the drowning hum sounding in her ears, "My mother was the vilest of creatures, she only ever sought to protect herself, to make herself live for as long as possible. She was known as an immortal queen, but she screamed when I drowned her in the storm. I believe that she only welcomed me into her city to prepare me to host her soul once she tired of her own body."

A preposterous thought, a vile act to insight upon any child let alone your own. Azriel shuddered, not being able to imagine her violet orbs dissipate to black. "Why would she do that?"

Contemplating the question, and not at all feeling like the words she would say would ever be used against her, y/n admitted, "I think she knew that I was more powerful than her. My abilities had always intrigued her, I think that's why she spent so long finding the right being to train me."

"Rowan." Y/N hummed lightly in response. "And what about Lorcan? Rowan mentioned a bond?"

Azriel hated to pry, but he had to know if she was mated, there was no indication telling him that she was, no scent or marking on her skin, but he had to be sure. Tilting her head at Azriel with an incredulous look in her eye, y/n smirked, "Lorcan is my blood-sworn, he protects me and acts on my wishes. Aedion is also my blood-sworn, he's Aelin's cousin, and a fine warrior and friend."

Friend.

Feeling his soul settle somewhat and his shadows finally relax, Azriel dipped low as they approached a mountain range, sighting the rippling wards around the city open with invitation and eagerness, Azriel guessed that the excitement was not for him. Azriel slowed on his flight, willing y/n to do the same, to give her time to prepare herself to see the place in which she had been born.

He reached for her, hands holding steady and true, and curled his marred fingers around her wrist to act as her anchor, or to be whatever she needed in that moment, "Are you ready?"

In a hush above a whisper, y/n replied, "Yes," and the pair dove through that rippling hole that concealed the city from any outside prying eyes, and Azriel could have sworn that the valley of gold brightened immediately, that the closed buds within the gardens bloomed, and that even the Sidra craned its lovely neck to witness her.

As if in welcome, sighing at long last, the mountains roared into the night, rumbling the air and singing their relief. Gasping, y/n soared downward through the night-kissed air, slipping from Azriel's grip as she banked along the waters surface, running her fingers over the perfect reflection of the night sky, smiling when it came alive at her touch and danced up her arms.

The Princess of Velaris had come home, and the city wept with joy at the sight.

Weaving to a place beside her, Azriel smiled faintly at the pure ecstasy that was written upon her features, and he wordlessly kept his pace whilst she ebbed and flowed throughout the city, only stopping when she did. Her wings touched the skies and mirrored the night perfectly, y/n swirled to Azriel, water gathering on her bottom lids, and asked, "Where are they?"

Azriel stretched out his arm, pointing to the opulent residence built into the mountain side, "They'll be up there. It's called the House of Wind."

"Is that where you live?"

Azriel hummed in answer, "And you're welcome to stay there too," he hoped as he edged toward her position floating atop the Sidra, so close to the surface that her toes glided against the water, "The view is incredible from the balcony."

"Really?"

"Really." Nerves settled in his gut, knowing that there was a very slim chance that anyone so beautiful let alone a Fae Queen would ever accept his offer, but he couldn't explain his need to be near her, his need to protect her, "I can show you around the city tomorrow if you'd like?"

"A war is coming. Surely Rhys will be putting you to work come dawn," she took his offered arm and felt his weight propel her upward toward the House of Wind, grand and regal in its own right.

"This is more important."

If it weren't so dark then y/n was sure that Azriel would have seen the blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Then yes, I would like that very much."

"Plus," Azriel leaned in close, his breath fanning against her bare shoulder as he noted the scars littering her skin, "I'm sure that Rhys would give you the world on a string if you asked for it."

"And what would you give me?"

Flickering his eyes upward to meet her own, enjoying how the interior lights of the House of Wind cast a heavenly glow over her face, Azriel smirked, "Name it and it's yours."

Author's Note

Part 3 eeek! x

Also I know I've been super absent recently - life has been hitting me hard but I'm in a much better place now so expect lots of updates next week!

Also - it wouldn’t let me tag certain people, sorry about that! Let me know if you’d like to be added 🤍

Taglist

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[pit-and-the-pen]

Your Love is Sunlight- Unrequited Love Pt.3

Whoops. Part 3 to Requited Love but could also be read as a stand-alone (I think I gave enough context to do that). This will be the last linear fic for this little series. But there will be more from this OC.

Let me know if you want to be added to the on-going taglist for this OC

Eris x Day Court! OC (Sunbeam) 

Warnings: Suggestive language, heavy kissing. One singular dialogue line with misogyny. Eating (as always let me know if I'm missing anything)

Also I’m heavily messing around with canon/ lore for mating bonds here. 

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Pt. 2 Alt Ending]

WC: 3.7k

divider by @cafekitsune

The request came not even a week later. A week that I could not get the red head out of my thoughts. Eris was a perfect gentleman that night, only lightly chucking as he held my hips away from his after our heated kiss.  We danced the rest of the night away until my shoes had worn painful blisters into my heel. And I would do it a million times over if I got to see that look in his eyes

Eris looked at me like he actually saw me. Like a was someone worth looking at. Not a second option. No, he looked at me the way no one ever had before and I was drunk off of it. The fire in his eyes was enough to make me want to sink to my knees right then and there. I had told him that much that night. 

But instead, he went back to his court. The very court whose seal is on the envelope in my hands. The paper so dark red it was almost black. I opened it with shaky hands and scanned over the words, over and over. Written in loopy, beautiful cursive. The note was short and sweet 

Sunbeam, it would be my honor to show you around the Autumn court. You’d be my personal guest. 

I will be waiting for your reply. 

Yours,

Eris 

One little word made my heart skip a beat. YOURS. Something deep in my chest purred at the idea but I brushed it off to the side. Flirting is one thing but the idea of Eris ever truly wanting something like that with me seemed too good to be true. So I wrote back my enthusiastic yes and in a puff of smoke that left the room smelling faintly of cinnamon, the letter was gone. Returned back to the male that had written it. 

I had never been to the Autumn Court before. My eyes tried to adjust to the beautiful reds, greens and yellows in hues I’d never seen outside of paintings. The cool breeze that seemed to whisper in my ear as it brushed past. Everything seemed alive as I heard the scurrying of animals on the leaf covered ground. When the air rose a few degrees, you already knew who was walking up to me. I greeted Eris with a tight hug. He was dressed in a handsome emerald green button down with gray slacks. His hair tied up out of his face unlike the other night at the ball. Those same golden rings littered his fingers. I blushed as I realized my eyes had been raking over him. If he had noticed, he didn’t say anything. Suddenly not knowing what to do with myself, I gave him an overdramatic curtsey raising my voice to stuff almost regal pitch. 

“High Lord.” He quickly recovered from the confusion that washed over him. He smiled, catching on, before he bowed low

“Allow me the honor of showing you around.” He said as he extended an arm to me. His voice dripped with that same faux stuffiness. The two of you looked at each other, holding back laughter. I broke first. My laughter rang through the large forest at my back. His head was thrown back, blinding white teeth flashing. Once we had recovered, he held out his arm again. Voice back to normal. “I would still like to show you around.” I took his arm and the two of us walked around the manor that seemed to rise out of the forest. 

AS he showed me around, he told me of the renovations that had recently taken place, pointed out the things that he still planned to change. The inside was just as breathtaking as the woods around the house. Rich colors and soft, plush fabrics filled the space with an unmistakable warmth. One that Eris had painstakingly tried to create. 

“And this will be your room for your stay. I already had your things brought up and I had Tessa and Clover, two of my mothers maids, pick out some warmer clothes for you.” He gestured to the large armoire in the corner of the room. “If you need anything else please don’t hesitate to tell them or myself.” Thanks rushed out of my mouth as I gaped at the room. 

My  room at the day court had floor to ceiling windows that allowed for sun to streak through at all waking hours, marble and gold littered every surface possible. This room was cozy enough that I instantly felt my eyes get heavy. Dark wood paneling ran across the walls. Heavy curtains over the windows that had been pinned back displayed the colorful trees. And the bed.the bed. It was covered with the softest, plushest blankets I had ever seen. Pillows covered over half the bed and it made me want to do nothing but burrow into them and never leave that bed. My feet drifted on their own accord over to the bed, I reached out a hand and almost sighed at the feeling of the fabric against my fingers. Just as soft as they looked. 

Eris’ content laugh pulled me out of my trance. I turned around to face him, he stood in the doorway still. “I’ll let you get settled. I can show you around more later today before dinner? If you want.” My heart fluttered at the idea, the thought of his court seeing us together. Of course, it was probably just to make sure I didn’t get lost in the maze that was the manor. At least that’s what I told myself, but as he took one more glance at me before he walked out of the room, I wasn't sure how much I believed that. 

Although I had bathed earlier that day, the deep tub in my bathroom all but called my name. I sniffed random bottles of oils and poured in spicy, warm smells. The oils seemed to curl in the air and beckon me to sink deeper into the water. Completely submerging my head until I needed to come up for air. I sat in the bath until my skin started to prune. Groaning, I pulled myself from the soothing water and dried off. Wrapping the towel around myself, I padded over to the closet and ran a hand over all the clothes Eris had given me. The closet was full of jewel tones and deep reds. Floor length dresses that were heavy enough to keep out the nip of the air at night but light enough to walk around in during the day. I picked an emerald long sleeve dress and blushed at the realization that Eris and I would be matching. Before I could lose my nerve, I pulled the dress over my shoulder. The front buttoned up all the way to the ground. The waist tucked in slightly flaring out around my hips. It felt amazing against my skin and fit like a glove. 

A knock at the door pulled my eyes from my reflection in the mirror. My hair was still wet from the bath and small waves were starting to form at the ends. Eris opened the door and stilled as he took me in. I felt like I was a thousand feet under his heavy gaze. He looked down at his own shirt for a second before he looked at me again. 

“Autumn court is a good look for you, Sunbeam.” My whole body flushed at the compliment and I hummed in agreement. A small yip from the hallway split my focus. A small furry face pushed through his legs, almost toppling the High Lord. “Azelia” he whistled, the hound stilled for a second before prancing over to me. She sniffed at my skirt before she sat at my feet, giving me her full attention. I reached down to pet her and she rolled over onto her back. I laughed at the twitch in her tail as I ran a hand over her stomach. Eris whistled one more time and she barked back before flipping back over and walked to sit at his feet in a similar manner. I giggled at the exhausted look he shot the dog. She only barked in her own form of laughter. 

Eris and I walked along a river by the house. He helped me pick out the perfect stones for skipping across the water. Coming up behind me to make sure my arm had the perfect flick to make it sail over the surface. I wasn’t nearly as good as he was, even with his help. Something he pointed out with a smirk. I pushed him lightly and he clutched at his chest like I had mortally wounded him. Crouching down onto both knees. I walked closer to him.

“Oh please, Eris ge-” My words were replaced with a yelp as he wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled me over his shoulder. I could only laugh my head off as I pounded at his back. Demanding he put me down. When he did, I felt the tree against my back. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you sound when you laugh?” I blushed and shook my head. 

“It can’t be that special. No one has ever said that before.” He knew who I was speaking about and he pulled my chin up to look him in the eyes 

“I wish I could offer the usual sentiment of killing the male that ever made you feel this way but that would complicate things as a high lord,” he winked at me. I felt my shoulders loosening at the humor in his voice. “But you say the word and I will.” He picked up a lock of my hair and twirled it around his finger. “You’re radiant and anyone who has ever made you feel otherwise is either blind or dumb or both.”

We had leaned in so close to one another that I could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose. Someday I hoped he would let me kiss each and every single one of them. My eyes flickered down to his lips and he was smirking as he followed my eye line. 

“Is there something you want, Sunbeam?” The little shit. It’s like my words had evaporated completely. Brain went fuzzy as his smell wrapped around me. I could do nothing but whimper. He made no other remark, only used his hand already in my hair to grip the back of my head. He growled as he smashed his lips to mine. This was nothing like the kiss from the ball. That had been exploratory and warm. This was an all consuming inferno. Burning through every ounce of self doubt I harbored. Scorching through my veins until only Eris was left. His free hand wrapped around my waist and pressed me against every delicious inch of him. When I started undoing the buttons of his shirt, he still his lips. His hand went to rest over mine and I reluctantly pulled away from him. I tried not to show the hurt on my face. And he leaned in to whisper in my ear. 

“The first time I'm inside of you will not be outside. Nor when we're rushed. I need time to make you scream my name. For all of Priyanth to hear that you’re mine.” Something more than hunger flashed in his eyes and I felt that look deep in me. 

“Eris.” I gasped out. He brushed a soft hand down the side of my face. 

“You can’t say my name like that sweetheart, not when I have to sit at dinner with the rest of my court in less than an hour.” I blushed at the meaning behind his words and tried, and failed, to not look down to the front of his pants. The evidence behind his words. My tongue ran across my lips at the sight. He groaned and stepped away from me. 

“You are a bad influence. But I meant what I said.” He booped my nose with his pointer finger, “ Now please go get ready for dinner.” His hand lingered on my arm for a fraction longer before he reluctantly let go.

I got dressed in a daze. A wild blush would not leave my cheeks. Everytime I managed to push away my errant thoughts, more would seep back into my mind. 

Before I knew it, I had changed into a new dress and was walking side by side with Eris down to the dining room. A few members of his court were already there, talking amongst themselves. They smiled up at him as we passed. As I sat down next to him they introduced themselves in kind tones. I nodded trying to keep up with their names and faces. More people started to come in and eventually all the places at the table were filled. 

There was no big speech or ceremony to start dinner. Everyone ate at the pace that they wanted to and cups of wine were being poured and shared. 

A deep voice of an older male pulled me from my conversation with the female,Fern I think was her name, next to me. 

“I’m still trying to figure you out.” He stated plainly. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you hung around Rhysand and his cronies. Came crawling back to Day where Helion welcomed you with open arms,” I felt the room grow hotter. “So I’m simply wondering how to get you in my bed too.” One second the male had been sitting at the table and before I could even blink, he had been blasted across the room. He sat up, eyes unfocused as he put a hand to his head. All eyes turned from the male now lying on the floor to the High Lord who was picking at non-existent dirt under his nails. 

“You will not speak to any female, especially guests, like that in this court. Ever. Again.” He hardly looked up at male before he evenly said, “You’re dismissed.” Two of the other members of the court scurried to his side and helped heave him to his feet. Quickly getting him out of the room. 

“I’m sorry you all had to see that. There are many things I will tolerate but comments like that are not one of them.” Eris said to those remaining from his court. All of them nodded along, not fear but appreciation in their eyes. I felt my heart soften at his words. Beron would have let a comment like that slide, maybe even agreed with it. It would take a while, old habits run deep but Eris would squash that old cruelty out of the Autumn court piece by piece. The thin line of determination in his face told me that much. He turned his attention to me “Are you all right?” He quietly asked me. The sound of silverware clinking against plates and light conversations filled the silence from moments ago. I nodded. 

“You didn’t have to do that, you know? It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” His mouth set into an unamused look, anger pinching his eyebrows.

“Sunbeam, I will not allow anyone to talk to…” he took a breath, about to say something but seemingly changed his mind. “I would do it again.” I knew he was telling the truth and thanked him for his kind words. 

The next few days passed too quickly. I spent the days in Eris’ presence, him waving me off when I apologized for keeping him from his duties. He assured me that making me feel as welcome as possible was a hundred percent part of his responsibilities. Both as a High Lord and a friend. Friend. I bristled at the word. Only a few more heated moments had passed throughout the days, and nothing like that night before dinner. I was wound tight and from the way his eyes kept flickering to my lips, I knew he was too. Everytime I would go to take things further, he would steal my hands or push away from me entirely. That same excuse said through gritted teeth. I didn't question it. If it happened it happened but being around him so much made it harder and harder to keep my thoughts at bay. 

This was one of those moments. I was supposed to leave the next morning and my hands were currently wrapped in Eris’ hair. My back pressed firmly against the door of his room. He peppered my neck with small bites that had my blood singing for him. I didn’t reach for his shirt this time, despite the need rushing through me. I instead went to the buttons on the front of my dress. Eris all but growled, “Gods you’ll be the death of me.” He groaned into my neck. I used my grip in his hair to pull his face back to mine. 

“Do you want me to?” I asked, suddenly feeling self conscious. 

“I would want nothing more darling but if you do, you won’t leave my bed in the morning.” He went back to kissing my neck and as he found that sweet spot right below my ear, I let the argument die on my tongue. If this was all I got from him, I would gladly take it. Regardless of how much more I wanted. 

I woke up in the morning with my lips still swollen from the rough kisses the night before. I didn’t need to look at my neck to know the angry red marks that would be faded by the time I left. I sighed at the thought and curled deeper to my blankets. Shutting out the thoughts of leaving and the heaviness that creeped into my bones. 

Eris and I spent the day with his hounds. We walked around the forest, me chasing after them as he hung back, throwing sticks after them. We laughed until our lungs hurt and his pack walked between us with ease, slipping in and out between our legs like they had been doing it all their lives. 

It was finally time for me to leave. Helion was about to come to winnow me back to the Day Court. My bags had already been sent back. And I felt the disappointment on my face as he gave me one short kiss goodbye. As he pulled away from me it felt like the ground was being pulled from under me.

“Eris.” I called to his retreating form. When his eyes met mine it was like the air had been knocked out of my lungs. It shouldn’t be possible. I felt tears well up in my eyes. This could not be happening again. I had lost this chance when my bond with Azriel had been severed. Or had I? No one had ever gone as far as I had before. I didn’t just reject the bond. Helion had pulled it from my body, completely erased it for the both of us. Did that mean I got another chance? A small voice in the back of my head remembered those dreaded words. Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. Could this be the cauldron making it right? Looking into those amber eyes, it felt right. In fact, nothing had ever felt so right before in my life. It was never like this with Azriel. He never loved me, was never going to love me. But Eris. Eris, who was always kind to me. Eris, who always greeted me first when he visited my old court during Hlyberns reign. It all made sense now. Everything had played out for this exact moment. I took a sharp inhale as I reached out through the bond, expecting that all too familiar coldness I had been greeted with all those years ago.

 Eris’ eyes snapped to mine as his body jolted. His mouth parted, words seeming to fail him. The other side of the bond was not in fact empty. But full of warmth and love. Love for me. We could do nothing but gape at each other as that thread, as golden as the leaves around us, grew thicker as it stretched between us. 

Tears welled in my eyes at the feeling. So much comfort and love running down the bond it almost pulled me to my knees. We both stumbled forward until our arms were wrapped around each other.

“I was so worried you would never feel it.” Eris spoke into the crown of my head. 

“When…”

“The moment I saw you at the ball. The first time I saw you after you cut your bond with him.” I squeezed him as tight as my arms would allow. “I didn’t know the depth of the magic Helion had used on you, I went to talk to him after to see if it was even possible and reading that book further, we realized it was.” I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. The sun reflecting off of them made them honey brown. He smiled at whatever emotion I accidentally sent down the bond. 

“I’m happy it’s you Eris.” He looked shocked. “If I had to go through all of this for it to be you, then it was worth it. Every second of it.” Tears of his own trailed down his face and I placed my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.  “Don’t go. Stay here with me.” His voice reverberated deep in his chest. “You don’t have to make any decisions right now. But stay here, let me do this the right way. The way you deserved the first time.”  I could do nothing but blush and nod. My throat felt tight at all the feelings, mine and his. A breathtaking smile I had only seen him give me split across his face. My feet suddenly no longer on the ground as he picked me up. My skirt billowed out around me as he swung me lightly around, like he had on the dance floor that night. I squealed in delight and buried my face into his shoulder. Inhaling his deep earth and cinnamon scent and thanked the cauldron that it didn’t always get it right. The first time.

Copying over the people I tagged in the last one! I promise this is the last one I'll tag yall in unless you ask

@cleverzonkwombatsludge @myromanempiree @starsandsins @melmo567 @saltedcoffeescotch @daycourtofficial @anainkandpaper @leyannrae

[minaturefics]

Of the Earth

Request: Could I request a fic faramir x reader where she has stumbled into ithilien and he comes across her? he's all angry at first because it's dangerous, but it ends well :) (they don't have to know each other either)

A/N: This one has more ranger!Faramir which was fun to write. Boromir lives because I say so lol Hope you all enjoy it!

Faramir x Reader

Fem reader

No content warnings

4.1k words

---

You inhaled the cool evening air, breathing in the scent of fir and cedar. You followed the worn path, now dotted with primroses and overgrown with fragrant herbs of thyme and sage, and swept your eyes over the trees and shrubs. Where was the entrance to Henneth Annûn? Idhron mentioned that it would be along the side of the mountain. The dying light of the sun filtered in through the trees and the forest was bathed in a dreamy glow. Ithilien truly was such a beautiful land, even now, still sullied with the lingering darkness of the orcs.

Something rustled behind you and your hand flew to your short sword. Your eyes darted around, breath hitched in your chest. Were there orcs about this evening? Most of them had been driven away, especially after the destruction of the Ring, but there was always the risk of stray orcs around. The forest settled, still and silent, but you kept your steps light and quiet as you continued on. 

You neared the rock face and raised a hand to the rough surface. Idhron had said that the entrance looked little more than a crack, just wide enough for a man, and that what differentiated it from other cracks was the feeling of the stone. He had said that it would be cool and damp, and that there would be a change in the air, a subtle rushing in of the breeze. You continued past a few fissures until you felt exactly what he described. With a final glance behind you, you slipped into the stone. 

You felt along the wall of the crevice, eyes adjusting to the dim, careful not to stumble on any errant stones or steps. There was a faint glow on the wall ahead, orange and warm, and you frowned. Torches? A fire? But Henneth Annûn was supposed to be empty. You drew your sword and rounded the corner. 

“Do not move if you value your life,” a voice said, low and stern. 

You froze and blinked at the hooded figures in front of you. Their weapons were drawn. Your eyes darted to the white tree on the leather breastplates of the men and you relaxed a fraction. 

“Peace,” you said, lowering your sword. “I come from Minas Tirith.”

“We were not informed of any other parties dispatched to Ithilien. And you do not look like a messenger.”

“I come on behalf of Ioreth, of the Houses of Healing.” You sheathed your sword and offered the pommel, where the crest of the white tree was embossed, to the man. “Would the Enemy carry a sword from The White City? I think not.”

The figure threw his hood back and you flinched. Captain Faramir. 

Prince Faramir. 

“My lord,” you murmured, stunned, and he gestured for his company to lower their weapons.

His grey eyes were cold and stern, his lips set in a displeased line. “What are you doing here? Do you not know that there are still dangers lurking in Ithilien?”

“I am well aware. But I have come on a matter of urgency — I am in search of a plant, a herb, that they require. I have been searching for the last two days.”

“And you would dare venture out alone?” He frowned. “Why were we not informed of such an errand? My men and I could have found the plant for you.”

“By the time Ioreth realised what plant she required, your men had already departed. And it is not as though we, in the Houses of Healing, are told where the rangers go.” 

His brow cleared a little but his jaw was still tense. 

“As for leaving the city alone — there were no others we could spare to come with me. Our little band of foragers are not as well staffed as the rangers and guards,” you muttered, a hint of bitterness lacing your tone. “I was not going to let some woman die simply because I had no companion on this quest.”

“I cannot decide if you are brave or foolish,” he muttered and nodded to dismiss his men. They took one final glance at you then wandered off further into the cavern. “How did you find this place?”

“Idhron told me. It was getting dark, so I thought such a shelter would be a good place to camp for the night.”

He sighed and shook his head. “Come, my men were just about to sit and eat before we were alerted to your intrusion. Join us, and we can talk.”

He led you to one of the caverns where a few worn tables and chairs were scattered about. Some of the Rangers ate at the tables, but most were seated on some woven mats on the floor. Braisers lit and warmed the space and the distant hush of the waterfall echoed above the chatter. Faramir handed you a bowl of stew and a piece of bread and sat with you at one of the empty tables. 

“How do you know Idhron?” he asked.

“He is a friend of the family. They did not wish for me to join the rangers as they thought it would be too dangerous but I did not wish to be designated to a life of weaving or scribing. He had suggested foraging for the Houses of Healing as a sort of compromise. It allows me to be in the wilds, but the work is far less perilous than that of a ranger.”

He hummed. “He is a wise man.”

You nodded and went back to your stew. How strange it was to be seated at a table with Faramir. Prince Faramir, you reminded yourself. You tucked your dirt stained fingernails under your palm and tried not to slurp while you ate. You glanced up, eyes trailing over his wavy hair, to his proud brow, down to his lips and short beard. He truly was handsome up close; it was no wonder the Houses of Healing were all a flutter with gossip after he had stayed there. His eyes met yours and you nearly choked on your stew. 

You cleared your throat and let your eyes fall to the table.

“Tell me about this plant,” he said.

“I do not know what its proper name is but we call it Dawn Root. It is leafy and unassuming and the only way to find it is to listen for it.”

“To listen?”

“Yes, it… it chimes. It is easiest heard at dawn, hence its name.”

“How curious. I have never heard of such a thing,” he murmured. “Will you be searching for it tomorrow morning?” 

You nodded, and he said, “I would like to accompany you, if you are amenable to that.” His gaze had softened, the firelight melting the steel in them. “It is not because I think you are incapable. I simply wish to see this strange plant.”

Your stomach lurched and you gave him a hesitant nod.

”I must confess to some curiosity about how a practised forager goes about it. We are taught some basics, enough to keep us alive, but I’m certain there’s still much more to learn. Even after the sun has risen, perhaps we can still forage, if you do not mind sparing some time to show me.”

Your eyes  dropped to your half-eaten stew. Faramir wished to learn from you? “What would you wish to know about?”

“Mushrooms,” he murmured, a slight smile in his voice. “We’re taught mostly to avoid them unless we are absolutely certain they are not poisonous, and even then, most of us are wary. I am fond of morels, but I know they have a deadly counterpart.”

You shrugged. “They are easy to differentiate. In fact, it is the season for them now. We might find some while we are looking tomorrow.”

“I suppose, then, I can trust you to pick some?”

Your eyes rose to meet his. They were unguarded now, so different to how he looked before, and a gentle smile was on his face. He looked like the sort of man you would cross paths with in the market or in the library. Just an ordinary man, eager for mushrooms. 

 “And then you’ll cook them for us?” You asked with a chuckle and he nodded. “I did not think there would come a day where I would see Prince Faramir standing over a campfire, cooking.”

The moment the words left your mouth you snapped your jaw shut. What were you thinking? Teasing him like that? 

You opened your mouth to apologise but his eyes crinkled with amusement and a breathy laugh escaped from him. “Do you know how to cook?”

“Only well enough to survive.”

He grinned. “Ah, then perhaps this is something I can teach you in return.”

-

Faramir held the torch aloft and swept his eyes across the trees and shrubs. It was so dim, the sun still yet to break the horizon, that he could scarcely see beyond the torch’s little sphere of light. Every morning for the past week, he had set out with you to search for this plant. You walked beside him, steps so silent he wondered who had taught you to stalk and creep through the land, your eyes fixed on the darkness, focused yet distant. 

The light illuminated your profile, highlighting it in a soft orange. He followed the line of light down from the line of your forehead to the swell of your lips. You had shown up at the cave with your hair mussed and your skin shiny with sweat, and yet, in that moment, you seemed to him more beautiful than the courtly ladies of Gondor. 

Ever since his appointment as Prince of Ithilien, it seemed like there was no end to the subtle romantic overtures from the nobles.

There was no need for an advantageous match, both Boromir and Aragorn assured him, but even if there was, he could not betray himself to pick someone based on some arbitrary checklist of what would make a good partner. It wrenched his heart each time he spoke with the ladies — they were lovely and polite, intelligent and funny, but they were all lacking a certain something he could not name.

It seemed, to him, with each passing day, that he was destined to be a bachelor like his brother, though unlike Boromir, it would not be of his choosing.

When his brother had offered to temporarily take over the post of Steward while Faramir cleared and reestablished Ithilien, Faramir had marshalled his men and left the city within the week. It would be good to get away from the empty rooms and halls, away from the hollowness that echoed the loneliness within him.

Some part of him missed the warm and dry library, the scent of books and paper, but there was peace to be had in the wild too, in the quiet of the caverns, the stillness of the morning. And even now, in the silent understanding between two people united in the quest for something.

He squinted out into the dark and sighed. “We can hardly see in such low light. Perhaps we set out too early this morning.”

“You are not using the right sense, my lord,” you said, a sly smile growing on your face. “As I said, it chimes.”

“I cannot hear anything.”

“Perhaps if your steps were not so loud…” You flashed him a smile and he chuckled, a strange warm feeling growing in his chest. How long had it been since someone, anyone, aside from his company and his brother, dared to joke with him?

“My steps are hardly making a sound. You move like a cat; it is unnatural.”

“What is unnatural is seeing you out here.” You laughed. “I thought that —” Your smile vanished and you glanced away. “Forgive me, sometimes I forget myself, especially away from the city. I did not mean any offence.”

“I am not offended.” He smiled. “I would like to hear what you were about to say.”

You eyed him, hesitant, then looked away and spoke your words to the woods instead. “I… I thought that you would prefer to be in the city. I am well aware that you were, are, a good captain and ranger, but your love of literature and lore is just as fabled. I did not think you would return to your former roles now that we are in a time of peace.”

“Such a sentiment certainly isn’t unfounded,” he mused. “But sometimes even I, too, find the city a little stifling. It is nice to simply exist as oneself, unobserved by people.”

“I shall do my best to keep my eyes to myself then.” You laughed and he relished the sound before you pursed your lips and forced yourself to stop. “Um, what about your men?”

“We have travelled a long and weary road together. We see each other as friends.”

You opened your mouth then closed it with a snap, forging forward, and his chest tightened. He had thought that all the nightly conversations at dinner would have put you at ease with him but alas. He wished you would speak freely, like you did late at night when your tongue was loosened with fatigue. 

He adored the way you would speak of your little adventures out of the city, eyes aglow with a fond smile on your lips. How you had one too many mishaps with a collapsing tent, how one of your companions taught you the shapes of the stars, how there was no greater thrill than discovering some strange new herb.

And just last night, you had leaned close to him while he fried the morels. The cavern was loud with chatter, but he had deliberately kept his voice low and gestured for you to move closer when you said you could not hear him. He could smell you, musk and moss and lemon from the homemade bar of soap you said you brought. You were so real, so alive. And when an errant strand of hair fell over your forehead, his fingers twitched to tuck it behind your ear.

If he were to do such a thing, would you welcome it? Or would the height of his station prevent you from entertaining such a notion? It vexed him, the way you would speak to him as an equal, a friend, then suddenly pull back, withdrawing to formalities. Perhaps he should make it clear to you that there was no need for such things.

“I was thinking…” he began.

“Hush,” you whispered. “I hear it.”

He stilled, straining his ears, and there, just faintly to his right, was a clear tinkle. You followed the sound, pausing every other step to listen, and he trailed after you. The first of the sun’s rays spilled through the trees, casting the forest, and you, in a hazy glow. His eyes lingered on the lines and curves of your body, marvelling at your grace.

You let out a triumphant cry and knelt a few paces in front of him. Just as you had said, the plant, leafy and unassuming, was chiming softly. You gently dug it out and cradled it in the palm of your hand. Its roots were a deep crimson and remained undamaged. You grinned at him, so open and so genuine that his heart ached with some unknown feeling.

“I must head for the city at once,” you said, tucking the plant into a canvas bag.

“You do not have a horse, correct?”

“A horse? Valar, where would I get a horse? They have been in short supply since the war, and Rohan are yet to send more over. And should the city even have some, the guards and messengers would take precedence over the foragers.”

“I did not realise your company was so ill-equipped.” A strange discomfort settled in his stomach. “It is no matter. We have some horses, please, take one.”

You blinked at him, astonished. “Where do you keep them?”

“There is another tunnel in the rock face not far from the cave entrance. It is large enough for horses to pass through and widens onto a grassy plateau. Come, let us make haste.”

You nodded and the both of you hurried back to Henneth Annûn. While you gathered your things, he untied and retrieved a horse for you. When would he see you again? He supposed he could always visit the Houses of Healing and ask for you, but perhaps you would not appreciate that. You still seemed a little ill at ease with him and, despite his own stirring feelings towards you, he would not wish to discomfit you further. With a sigh, he led the horse out to meet you. 

Saddled and ready, you gave him a lingering look, then turned and galloped away. 

-

You handed Ioreth the most recent bunch of gathered herbs, trying to ignore the curious glances the other women gave you. Ever since you arrived in the city three weeks ago on Faramir’s horse, the Citadel and the Houses of Healing have been abuzz with rumours. It did not help that a couple of days after your return, a messenger had arrived at the Houses of Healing with a letter for you with the bright blue wax seal of Ithilien stark on the envelope. Your foraging company knew better than to ask, but it seemed everyone else was not above gossip. 

Iotheth gave the whispering women a stern look, thanked you for your herbs, and handed you another list of plants required. 

You grumbled to yourself. Faramir’s horse! You did not know it was his, but perhaps you should have noticed the round medallion on the bridle which bore the newly created crest of Ithilien. Still, in the quiet of the night, you wondered why he had chosen that particular horse for you. Perhaps it was the most agreeable one they had, or maybe it was the most well rested, or he thought that sending you on his horse would be the most efficient way for you to reach the city without anyone stopping you.

Or perhaps… perhaps he simply wished to send you on his horse.

No, no. What a foolish thought. Evenings spent in conversation and mornings spent foraging and letters sent with the supply carts and messengers was hardly a basis for anything more than friendship.

Still, the letters had been unusually intimate. There were the usual inquiries about the patients and medicinal herbs, how the outpost in Henneth Annûn was coming along, whether the resource changes he and Boromir agreed on were helping your company of foragers, but there were also little personal comments and questions. 

Other women here in the city might beg to differ, but I think the Rangers’ uniform is far more attractive than the guards’.

You’ve never used a bow? They can be quite handy, especially when hunting dinner. Perhaps when I am back in the city I can teach you. 

Thank you for the pressed primrose you sent, they remind me quite fondly of my time in Ithilien.  Do you have a favourite flower? 

We’ve had another delicious morel dinner. I must confess that the sight of them makes me think of you.

It would amuse you to know I overheard some ladies mourning your absence from the city. Though, I begrudgingly admit that I share their sentiment. 

The lily perfume Ioreth made for you sounds lovely. I imagine it must smell wonderful on you. 

No, I do not write to you out of a sense of obligation. I look forward to your letters; you bring me more joy than you can ever know.

And each time he had signed his letter as ‘Faramir’. Not ‘Captain Faramir’ or ‘Prince Faramir’, but just… Faramir. 

Your heart fluttered when you thought of that, but you squashed the feeling as soon as it arose. He was a prince, for Valar’s sake. And you were just… just…

Ioreth’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Girl,” she said, amusement in her eyes. “You have a visitor.”

“Who in Arda would come see me here?” you groused, pocketing her plant list. “All my friends are out —”

Faramir stood in the archway, his cheeks red from the wind and his cape hem muddied.

“Not all your friends, I hope,” he said, an unsure smile on his face.

“Fara — My lord,” you muttered, bowing your head a little. 

His brows drew together. “Please, I am certain we are past such formalities.” You cast a nervous glance around the room and his frown deepened. “Shall we speak elsewhere? There is something I wish to discuss with you.”

You nodded and led him to one of the secluded gardens outside. “I did not know you were returning to the city,” you said. 

“I had thought of sending a letter but I thought what I wished to discuss would be best done in person.”

“That sounds serious,” you murmured. “Not ill tidings, I hope?”

You paused by one of the shrubs, rubbing a waxy leaf between your fingers, avoiding his eyes. What could be so important he would make the trip back from Ithilien? 

“I hope you will forgive me for being selfish,” he said. “Coming to the Houses of Healing and seeking you out. I am not oblivious to the… the rumours circulating around the city.”

You took a hesitant look at him. “So why did you come?”

“I wished to see your face when you give your reply.” He swallowed and clasped his fidgety hands behind his back. “I have read your letters again and again, trying to find some sort of hint or clue in them, and in your last letter… You said I brought you joy.”

You stared at him, the sound of your heart loud in your ears. The words had slipped from you before you realised, but you had left them in, a cautious declaration of how you felt, hoping that he would take it as a friend being overly sentimental.

“I must know,” he said. “Is there… Is there a chance you might return my feelings?”

“Your feelings?” you stuttered, scarcely believing what he was saying. 

“Yes,” he said slowly. “You are a most singular person to me and there has been no other who has captured my heart so.” 

He paused and looked at you, hopeful and apprehensive all at once. You gaped at him. 

Singular… Captured his heart…  All this time, he felt the same?

“Ah,” he said, voice flat, eyes shuttering. “I suppose your silence is enough of an answer.” He took a step back. “Forgive me, I —”

“Wait, no, please.”

He stilled but his face remained impassive.

“I am simply in disbelief,” you said in a rush. “I did not think… I dare not hope…” A strangled laugh burst from you. “Of course, of course I share your feelings.”

A smile spread slowly across his face and he offered his hand, palm up, to you. You reached out, but the sight of your hands, rough and dirt stained, stopped you.

“Why do you hesitate?” he murmured.

“Faramir, you are a prince. And I am not of equal standing or birth.”

“I do not care for such things. You are kind and brave, and smart and good-humoured.” He offered his hand once more and you tentatively curled your fingers around his. “And you are beautiful.”

He tugged on your hand and you stepped closer. Slowly, slowly, he brought his forehead to yours. You sucked in a deep breath, inhaling his scent of leather and musk, relishing his nearness after so many weeks. He nudged your temple with his nose and pressed a kiss to your temple.

He hummed, low and satisfied. “The perfume really does smell wonderful on you. I suppose I must smell a bit ripe in comparison. Though, in my defence, it was a swift ride, and I was far too eager to see you.”

“I think you would benefit from a bath, yes.” You chuckled and drew back. “But Faramir, what about the court?”

“Tongues will always wag, my love,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “But we shall face them together. And besides, you have already shown your service and care for the people. What more could Gondor ask of you as my partner?”

“I suppose I cannot argue with that.” You grinned. “But maybe, we could proceed slowly? I do not think I would fare well if I were immediately tossed into society.”

“Of course. And it shall give me time to court you, properly. I will be returning from Ithilien soon, and then I assure you, there will be flowers and walks and picnics.”

“And mushrooms?”

He laughed and kissed your cheek. “Yes, and mushrooms.”

---

A/N: Lowkey feel like the pacing was a bit off. I originally planned for it to be longer, but my brain decided to be shitty lmao so I had to pare it back. I hope the flow is still okay.

Nirnroot was inspiration for the Dawn Root, lmk if anyone picked up on that lol

[slyblonder]

King for a Day

MDNI

Youth Pastor!Mingi x GN!Reader

warnings: sex(gross ikr), its just a blowjob, mentions of fingering, throat fucking, spit mention, hair pulling, tears (Dacryphilia), i cant think of anything else ngl

word count: 1.9k (first long fic les gooo)

“You might want to get an early start on your Hail Marys then.”

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit..Amen.”

Following along you made a cross on your body. This will not be the only time you do this today, and it certainly won't be the last.Mingi and his father had just moved into town, the new pastor and his insanely hot youth pastor son. You had to have him. You needed him like no other. “Lord forgive me for what I do later.” Fixing your dress as you got up, smiling at all the families that passed by you.

You were never the religious kind, you never participated in church, hell you rarely even came to service. But as soon as you caught a look of Mingi you were already in your closet picking out an outfit. You’d always try your best to match him. His outfits were very simple and appropriate but also so slutty somehow. It could be all his rings and chains but once you start thinking about it your mind wonders, thinking about how his chains would look dangling in your face. You shook those thoughts out of your head, saying bye to the last few families to leave.

Upon Mingis arrival to your town you were quick to sign up as an assistant. You didn't care about them damn kids nor the lord but here you were every sunday, helping by his side teaching about the lord.

“Thank you so much for your help today. I know it was a lot harder since we had a full house.” Mingi spoke, making you jump a bit. That’s the other thing about him that had you so enamored..His voice. It was so deep and husky but so soothing. You could listen to him for hours.

“It's no problem Mingi, you did great like always. I’m just happy we let out early today.” You moved out of the pew to now stand face to face with him. “I get to hang out with my favorite person.”

Mingi looked at you with confusion and sight shock, pointing at himself. “M-me?”

Despite his “cold” and “dark” image Mingi was a very gentle and even cute person. Any and everyone could see that. “Yes, you. Why do you think I help you out so much? Why I’m always by your side? Why I’m always at your beck and call?” You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. Cute. Walking closer to him he seemed frozen, closing his eyes briefly as if waiting for something eagerly.

“You’re so cute like this…flustered and pretty.” Walking closer you stopped right in front of him, leaning up to his ear with a smirk. “If only the heavens knew how beautiful you look right now.”

“y/n I…w-what's going o-on…” You placed a quick kiss on his cheek, watching as his eyes popped open. He looked as if he saw a ghost but the tint of pink never left his face.

“Ever since you knocked on our door holding that gift basket, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You looked so fucking good Mingi. I wanted you, I needed you. So I signed up to help, anything to be closer to you. Not only did my urges to have you get stronger, I started to grow feelings for you.”

Mingi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This is everything he ever dreamed of. Yeah, he was the pastor's son and had to keep up an innocent persona;but it was quite the opposite. As much as he was devoted to his faith he could never shake the thought of you ever since he saw you. He wanted to hold you, take in your scent…devour you. Mingi knew it would be wrong and go against his faith, but he couldn’t help but imagine such sinister acts with you.

“You’re very bad at hiding your gaze, Min. I see you stare and used to think nothing of it. 'oh, he's not looking at me, he's just giving his attention like usual…’ until I bent down and saw you staring at my chest.” You took a step back and watched his reaction with a smirk. His hands were balled up, his face still a visible pink, and a much more visible print in his pants appeared. You could tell from the way he stood there he was virgin but not in the slightest innocent.

“I- I tried to hide it…”

“Not well enough.”

Mingi bit his lip before starting to mumble.

“Wouldn’t you like to feel like a king for a day or even forever? I think you liked it.” You spoke with a small laugh moving to sit Mingi in the pew. He sat there and watched your every move, waiting for you to pounce on him.

“Y/n please… I can’t get the thought of you out of my head. I ache for you.” These words sounded like music to your ears. Mingi wanted you, ached for you, needed you. Moving into the pew you sat on his lap, feeling how big he was instantly and watching him let out a soft whimper.

“You might want to get an early start on your hail marys then.” You placed small and slow kisses on his neck, moving up to his jaw, sucking lightly. He sounded so fucking needy, and you to wanted to hear him scream in pleasure but decided to spare him.

“H-hail Mary, full of grace…The L-lord is with thee fuck y/n-“

“Don’t stop, keep going.” You began to bite at his skin, leaving small marks that would disappear pretty quickly. “Blessed art t-thou amongst wo- ahh…women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” Mingi finally allowed his hands to rest at your waist, gripping tightly with each bite. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us s-sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”

“Amen indeed, I can’t believe I have you all to myself Min. You sound so pretty under me. You’re already so hard for me, I think I should do something about that huh?” You laughed a little as Mingi began to nod very quickly, begging to feel something more. Moving off his lap you found a way to kneel in front of him. It was a little uncomfortable but such a small price to pay for what was in store. Mingi took a second to look at you, taking in how pretty you looked in front of him. He mindlessly reached for your cheek and smiled, knowing there was no going back once you started and he was okay with that.

You wasted no time and began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, biting your lip as you could see his print more and more. Lifting his hips Mingi helped you pull his boxers and pants down to his mid thigh, giving you more than enough access. Mingi was big. Bigger than most you’ve been with, you were determined to take all you were given. “Please…do something…” Looking up at him doe eyed you licked a stripe up his shaft, smiling as you finally got a taste of him.

Licking up his precum you took as much of him as you could, moaning and slightly gagging at how full your mouth was. Mingis hand quickly moved to hold onto one of the ponytails, bucking his hips at the sudden warmth. Your mouth felt amazing, he was sure he'd cum in no time if you kept it up.. “Your mouth feels better than I imagined fuck..” Mingi moaned, throwing his head back trying his best to keep as quiet as possible. The worst part is if someone walked in right now, he would care less. All his prayers were being answered right before him.

Tears ran down the side of you face as you let Mingi fuck your throat. He was a lot more rough than you imagined but damn did it turn you on. You let your hands travel between your legs, slipping into your underwear and inserting two fingers to fill yourself up more. Feeling so stretched out you let out a moan sending vibrations up Mingis cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Lord, please, please please forgive me.” Hearing him beg for forgiveness turned you on so much, inching close to your own release.

You sped up your pace, fingering yourself fast and sucking off Mingi even faster. Every cell in Mingis body felt like it was on fire; He's never felt this kind of pleasure before and hopes that this will never be the last. Mingi grabbed onto both your pigtails, practically hunched over your body. If anyone had walked in right this moment they would just think he was praying. “yn i-im cumming! im cumming oh—oh my god…thank you, thank y-you.”

Cumming down your throat felt amazing to Mingi. From your face stained with tears, spit, and cum; your legs sore and shaking from cumming so hard. You both stayed like that for a second, Mingi finally sitting back breathing heavily. You lifted off his cock, making sure you swallowed everything and taking a deep breath.

“You have a thing for being rough, it's hot. You should also be thanking me, I just gave you the best blowjob ever.” You smiled, moving to place the two fingers you used to fuck your self in Mingis mouth. “A small taste of what's to come. Literally.”

You laughed and used his legs to help you get up, sitting right next to him in the pew. “Y-you want to do this again?” Mingi asked, shocked since he has yet to catch his breath properly.

“I told you I can make you feel like a king for a day, or forever. I think we both want forever…unless I'm wrong?” You searched to see where your bag was, reaching into the pew behind you and pulling it into your lap and searching for wipes to clean you both up.

“No! I mean, you're not wrong…I would really like that,I just feel like I'm still dreaming…” Taking the wipe he was handed, he cleaned up any excess spit and around his thighs before pulling up his boxers and pants.

“Dream or not, I’m all yours Mingi. I’m heavily devoted to you.” He looked at you with so much awe and lust, wiping your stray tears and smiling softly.

“I’m more than willing to sin for you, dream and reality.” And he meant that, no amount of repentance will make up for it and he was okay with that.

“You should come over this weekend, My parents are gonna be out of town. We can see how devoted we are to each other, like the lord wants.” You spoke soft, moving to whisper into his ear before pulling back and giving him a quick peck. “See you soon Mingi, or should I say pastor Song.”

Mingi watched as you picked up your bag and waved bye with such a sinister grin, you truly were a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He sat there and thought back on everything he just experienced, chuckling at how lucky he just got.His prayers were definitely answered. Thanks God. He shook his head and moved to kneel down, folding his hands and bowing his head. Might as well get an early start right? “Hail Mary, forgive me, blood for blood, hearts beating…”

©️slyblonder

——————

a/n :I FINALLY DROPPED THIS FIC OMG!! Sorry i took so long yall, life started turning me every way but loose and then also starting a new job drained me. But enjoy I hope yall like it, if not also lmk you hate it🗿 okay byee love youu

tags:

@slvtiny @pandoora-the-pink-goth @pearltinyy

[writersdrug]

Please continue to write literally anything for konig, I’m having the worst work week of my life and your fics always sustain me! I just finished chapter 13 and I almost cried because I realised I’d have to wait for more to come out 😔 this isn’t really a request or question just encouragement!!!

I don't have much queued up for König besides I Don't Need You, but here are some headcannons I have!! Also I'm sorry your work week was bad, let König cheer you up

NSFW at the end

We all know he would love to go on rants bout knives, guns, history, etc. But I also imagine that if you tried to chime in with your own, semi-relatable topic he'd glare at you and say "I wasn't finished," before continuing on his schpeel. He's not trying to be mean, he just has to tell you about Richard the third and how he definitely killed the two princes in the tower.

If you ask if the two of you can get a cat, he comes home the next day with one - but he didn't go to the pet store, or a shelter. He went to the restaraunt you always drag him to and waited by the dumpster with a can of tuna. Caught the scruffy thing and brought it to you, tucked under an arm with a big smile on his face.

He had to help you bathe the spitting kitten, poor baby was covered in fleas.

This man unironically adores the bucket of chicken you can get from KFC. Just a pail of chicken all for himself.

If you're out shopping or really anywhere where you take the lead, people are always asking if you're ok - "That man looks like he's following you," they whisper, "do you need me to get someone to walk you out?"

It's just König, standing behind you in a balaclava, hands in his pockets and dark clothing. Just 👁👁

Goes for an hour-long run at 4 am every morning, comes home to shower, then crawls back in bed with you to sleep until you have to go to work.

His phone screen is probably gross. Lock screen is you, doing your makeup and wearing a stunning dress for date night, unaware of König lurking in the doorway for a photo; background is the poster for Lord of the Rings: Return of the King

This man is known as a terror among door salesmen. They're just trying to get him to buy their services for cleaning gutters and he's dragging them to the backyard to show them how he cleans it himself, talking to them for an hour about how you don't need to hire someone to do "simple work"

He plays D&D with other veterans every Thursday night - you both usually host at your house, and he gives you an appreciative smile/pat when you come through with more drinks.

(Based on a tiktok) he once came in through the back door, standing in the dining room awkwardly as he watched you sort through the mail. He stared at you with a blank expression, until you finally looked back at him. "What's wrong, baby?"

He then slapped a lizard on the table, making you scream and throw a pile of mail at the thing as it scurried across the wood. He laughed for a good thirty minutes.

When he's sick, he tries to get away with downing a shot of Everclear and moving on with his day. "Alcohol kills bacteria, no?" (You'll have none of that nonsense, and he's not complaining when you dote on him and hand-feed him soup.)

If you're in the shower, he's in the shower. Doesn't matter if he had one an hour ago.

If you have a child, he loves to gaslight them (especially in their elementary years). Agrees to play Princess with them, but then proceeds to say that he's the Princess.

"I'm always the Princess!"

"Nein, you said I could be this time!"

"No I didn't!"

"Well I'm the Princess, so I make the rules."

Believes eating your pussy will make you feel better in any situation (sometimes it does). Bad day at work? He's kneeling in front of you and telling you to flip your skirt up. Cramps? Orgasms are the best remedy, schatz. Your tomatoes aren't growing well this year? Ah, shucks. Let him eat you out.

Anyways this is bleh but hope this helps!!

[allyricas]

I love gay Eddie and bisexual awakening Steve. It's solid and popular for a reason. It works, makes a lot of sense.

But...I also love flirty-cluelessly-queer Eddie and comfortable-with-his sexuality Steve.

Eddie does flirt. With everyone. It was pretty clear he was flirting with Chrissy. He was flirting with Steve. Calling him big boy and getting up in his personal space, being all cutesy.

So, imagine Eddie just casually flirting with Steve and it doesn't mean anything to him. He's just being Eddie. He isn't even aware that it's flirting. He really considers it teasing. The man is dramatic and silly. He loves to make a scene. So "teasing" people is fun for him.

Eddie who is a super senior running a DnD club for outcasts, loves Lord of the Rings, plays in a metal band. I think Eddie is always into some sort of hyperfixation to be trying to bang chicks or dudes.

There was totally a phase were he was obsessed with folk and old country music (Woody Guthrie much). There was the Jane Austen phase (It fits, c'mon). The time he tried to learn to crochet. His lasting phase with fantasy novels. His intense love of metal music. He knows a lot about music in general. Obscure shit. Oh, those handcuffs-definitely from his magic phase. Tell me, 12 year old Eddie didn't want to be a magician. He probably did card tricks, the whole deal.

Eddie would be the kind of guy who'd spout all sorts of random knowledge. He probably has one specific time period in history he could rant about for hours.

The man has raging ADHD (takes one to know one). He's a self-professed nerd and outcast. The only thing that might be considered "cool" is that he plays in his band. But even then, he's a total nerd about it.

Eddie is hot as hell. That is undeniable. But Eddie has been too damn busy being a fucking nerd to date or hook up. I think he's so focused on his interests, it could easily not have been on his radar. Same way he's failed senior year twice in a row despite being smart as hell. The shit they are trying to teach doesn't interest him and that makes Eddie fucking struggle.

He's bouncy and hyperactive. He probably has terrible tunnel vision when he gets into a book or movie or campaign. Dating has thus far not been interesting enough especially combined with how he's treated by the people in Hawkins.

So, yeah- he flirts and teases. He thinks it's harmless fun. With Chrissy, it was a way to make her feel safe and lighten the mood. With Steve, it's a way to disarm him. It's King Steve afterall. Why not play up the metalhead freak persona. Let him think he's weird.

It isn't until Steve starts flirting back and gives Eddie butterflies that Eddie realizes this is not heterosexual behavior. And he knows a lot about that because he was accidentally flagging for a whole goddamn year. Because he wanted to look metal as fuck and thought the bandana was badass.

Steve calls Eddie princess. Calls him pretty boy. Throws in a babe. Everytime Eddie refers to him as big boy or Stevie, Steve just smirks and comes up with a new pet name that wrecks Eddie (who has no idea what is fucking going on). Throw in the boys getting high together with no inhibitions and Steve actively trying to romance him and Eddie's in a full blown sexuality crisis.

best part: Steve thinks Eddie is gay because of the bandana that he wore all year. Add in all the flirting and then Steve's really putting the moves on totally clueless Eddie. And say what you want about Steve, but he has game. I can just imagine Eddie trying to frantically figure out why all of the sudden he wants to make out with Steve "the hair" Harrington and Steve's like...aren't you gay?

(if anyone knows of steddie fics anything like this, please rec them!)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Sticking Point 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, possible violence, illness, death, bullying, ableism, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are sent in the place of your ailing sister to marry a stranger. (Regency AU)

Character: Loki

Note: I'm moving tomorrow.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The tension turns roiling. Even in such airy halls, you cannot escape it, not that you venture very far from your rooms. It seems with each interaction, your relationship with your fiance only grows more fraught. You needn’t wonder why. It’s the very same reason your own father regards you with derision. You’re defective, less than what he hoped for. 

You sit in the window seat, looking over the greenery that reflects Jade Garden’s title. It’s a home anyone would covet and yet it feels as a penitentiary might. These walls are unyielding and the isolation suffocating. 

Your visions drifts into the distance as the leaves turn to green smears blending into the dimming blue of the sky. You close your eyes and turn your head straight, leaning against the wall as you hook your arms around your legs. 

A banquet. It’s less than a proper debut. You’re not certain anyone would be expecting you, or even know who you are. Will they be surprised when they hear your father’s name?  

There are things you know. Things you must ready yourself for. Certainly, there will be jeers, mocking whispers, and errant giggles. Just the same as anyone ever reacted to you. Even the farmhands would echo your speech and laugh bawdily. It hardly matter’s your a lord’s daughter when you sound so ridiculous. 

You hang your head and sigh. It isn’t just one banquet, it is the beginning of a lifetime of events. You will not only face this one night, but many anon. You will be the one they speak of behind their hands and the joke at the card tables. 

You stand, made restless by your dread. The window darkens with the evening’s arrival. Doreen raps at the door and leaves a tray of supper. You pick at it but don’t eat much. You must keep yourself busy so your mind is not. 

You go to your chests. You will need Doreen to unpack these soon. It’s as if the longer you leave them full, the less assured your fate. You might still strap them up and flee. 

You know that isn’t truly an option. 

You take out a gown the shade of cooked pumpkin with an overlay that lends it a bronzish hue. The bodice is trimmed with an eyelet effect and the hem of the cap sleeves and skirt finely threaded with beads. You lay it out on the chaise and find a pair of slippers to go with it and ribbon for your hair decorated with black onyx and brass. 

If Edith could see you then. It should be her in your place. That thought rings louder and louder, bolstered by the constant disapproval. 

You back away from your attire, spinning so you won’t have to look upon it. You never thought to miss home so much. Not your parents, you’re certain they hardly grieve your absence, but for the familiarity, for the simple walls and memories. Edith is there, even gone, you know you would see her in every cushion and every corner. 

You go to the door and listen. As silent as ever. You emerge into the corridor and make careful progress on the pads of your feet. You come to the top of the stairwell and peer down on the foyer. For all it’s beauty, this place is rather grim. 

You descend and let your eyes lead you. You take in every ornament, every statue, every door trim, and every tile of the floor. You want to know it all. You don’t want to feel so lost. 

You find your way along to the sunroom. Upon your approach, the door opens and you falter. A lithe figure emerges. You press yourself to the wall, unready for Loki’s appearance. He has a snifter of liquor in hand as he glowers in the light of a lantern in his other.  

He steps towards you and pauses, lifting the light higher to cast over you. His breath escapes him derisively. He lowers the lantern and sniffs. 

“Like a rat, you skitter incessantly,” he remarks. 

“My Lawd,” you push away from the wall and angle away from him. 

“I am speaking to you. Do not go until I give leave to,” he demands. 

You stop and face him again, hands meeting in apprehension. 

“This banquet business,” his nostrils flare, “I will not be humiliated. Not as you have tonight.” 

“My Lawd, I have been twained in etiq—etiqwette,” you insist. 

He scoffs, “your manners hardly bother me. Certainly you might have some grain of awareness.” 

You seal your lips. He’s said it plainly, as you have. He might be able to close his ears to your impediment but it is with you always. 

“Perhaps you might keep your words to a minimum,” he advises, “select them wisely.” 

You stare at him, cheeks fiery and eyes tinging, “If you would wather, I might make an excuse. A sudden malady, my lawd. I’d hate to stain your chawacter.” 

His eyes roll to the side and his features sharpen, “more would be said were I to appear without my betrothed after my mother’s promises.” 

That he has referred to your nuptials is not so nice as it should be. He speaks to it as a sentence. You look him in the face. 

“It won’t eva go away,” you say. 

“Hm, I only need get through the wedding night,” he retorts and you can’t help but wince. 

You swallow, your hurt turning bitter. “As do I.” 

His head tilts and he squints. He lets out another snort, “pardon?” 

“My sista would’ve hated you,” you whisper. “You did not desawve to know haw.” 

“Be wary,” he steps closer. 

“You make an enemy of me, not I you,” you lift your chin.  

He’s silent. He shifts even closer. So near, you have to keep from wilting away. You stare back at him defiantly, heart beating. 

“You do not know yet what it is to have me as an enemy so you best mind your mannaws,” he mocks your cadence with his last word. 

Your lip trembles as he green eyes sparkle like dark emeralds in the lantern lights. Your chest is a flurry of hurt and anger. What have you ever done to him, or anyone, to make them so spiteful? You swing your arm against his to knock the snifter from his hand, sending a splash of alcohol across the wall and and his vest. The smell is acrid and sour. 

You back away from him, horrified at your reaction. You have learned to restrain yourself, to tamp it all down, to swallow it with a smile and say nothing. In that moment, you simply cannot. You shake your head as your face twists in despair. 

“I would wather an enemy, saw,” you hiss, “as I would be ashamed to call a cad like you husband.” 

His glare flashes and he sways as if he might lunge at you. He rights himself and his brow arches. His lips draw and his cheeks pale. 

“Very well.” 

He spins on his heel and stomps away, the light limning his silhouette sinisterly. You stare after him mortified. What has come over you? You were never bold or brazen or brutal to any. Edith would be disappointed. A gentle soul like her could never even think a hot word. 

You fall back against the wall and clutch your hands over your chest. Is this to be your life? Are you to live in loathing, not only of that man but of yourself. To be castigated for the lilt of your own tongue, the very pulse of your existence? You’d thought your father a villain but this man has proven himself worse. 

Worst than his distaste is your own futility, for he has assured you there is nothing you might do to appease him. As he is bound to you most miserably, so are you vowed to the same fate. Not even in that might you commiserate. 

🔹

You sit in front of the mirror, holding the brooch over the table, feeling the embroidery with the pad of your thumb. You turn it over and back again. It’s the only piece of your sister you have left. Every day she feels further away from you. Every morning, you awake, expecting to hear her, to see her, and she is not there, and you are not at home. 

You peer up at your reflection as your hand hovers over the painted wood. You’ve not touched a tress or cheek. You must ready, you know it, but your reticence is like chains on your wrists. You know what you are to face but knowing cannot make it any less unpleasant. 

A knock comes at the door. You call for the maid to enter, thinking Doreen’s come to remind you again of your pending engagement. The maid opens the door but says nothing, letting in the duchess instead. Lady Frigga is almost rapturous in a dressing gown of peach fabric as her hair is set already in tight curls around an elegant chignon. You stand, apologising for your misstep. 

“Dear, it is quite forgivable,” she assures, “I only meant to look in on you before the banquet, to be certain you do not require anything, but darling, oh,” she sweeps towards you and cups your cheeks, “you’ve not even begun. What is the matter?” 

“There is no issue,” you lie, “I mewely let time escape me.” 

You smile and gently pull away, turning back to the vanity. You open your hand and once more consider the pin. 

“Is this the dress you mean to wear?” Frigga asks as she crosses the room in a swish of silk. You peer over your shoulder as she looks down on the orange fabric. “It is a rather keen shade.” 

“Yes, my lady,” you answer in a dulcet tone. You cannot find a glimmer of concern for your attire. 

She sighs and returns to you, holding the ribbon you’ve chosen, “these are far too dour,” she touches an onyx, “haven’t you some pearls?” 

“Somewhaw...” You bend your neck, staring at the bluebird, at Edith’s handiwork. You remember the day she gave it to you and the way she smiled so proudly. How she pinned it on you herself and made you go around and show all. 

“Oh, dear, that won’t go at all. It would be nice for a lunch, no doubt, but not for a banquet,” she remarks and you close your hand around the brooch. You put your shoulders straight and face her. 

“I have a pawl band in my chest,” you resign and step around her. 

You go to the chest and sift around, careful not to let the brooch slip from your grasp. You take out the pearls on the ivory band and show it to her. She tuts. 

“It won’t go with this gown,” she insists. 

“Yes, the onyx--” 

“Mmp, I prefer pearls. Darling, you must be your best. It is your first social appearance. I do not say this to demean you, only to assist. I know your own mother cannot be here to see you debut but I cannot imagine her pain at this moment. So much loss. Both daughters at once, in a way,” she bemoans. 

Yes, you think of your mother too. You know she won’t be well. Nor your father. All their hopes and dreams dashed in a deficient daughter sent to carry a legacy on with a spiteful husband who mightn’t even have the stomach to deliver one. 

“I vewy much appweciate it, lady,” you make yourself smile, “I suppose it must be nawvs.” 

“Suppose it must,” she hums, “how about you wear the orange gown and I fetch you a feather pin from my own collection? I have a fabulous ostrich and topaz piece,” she assures, “and some black lace gloves. Ooh, yes, dear, we will make certain all is perfect.” 

“Thank you, Lady Fwigga, but it isn’t necessawy--” 

“You are to be my daughter, of course it is,” she preens. “Besides, who shall notice anything but how splendid you look?” 

She twists on her heel and your smile dwindles. You know what is meant. What she will not state plainly. Perhaps a fine outfit might distract from your crooked consonants. You sit on the stool again and watch her go. 

Even those who are kind cannot help their thoughts. She mightn’t be cruel about it, but you can hear the disappointment in her pandering cooing. You are not the daughter she wanted just as you are not the wife her son wanted. Just as you do not want to be as you are. 

[c-e-d-dreamer]

I Still Carry You With Me

A/N: Y'all thought I was just going to do one post today? Think again! You all know that if there's one thing I'm going to do, it's write a fic to prove a point! And proving a point, I am! You all can catch me outside with that Cassian doesn't have a haircare routine 😤 Especially @dustjacketmusings and @separatist-apologist! I told y'all I was going to do it, so here I am for @cassianappreciationweek. Hope you're ready to get ✨sad✨

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Cassian carefully runs his fingers through his hair, working the oil along his scalp. When he’s satisfied, he grabs a silk scarf and bends over, letting gravity help as he pulls his curls into a pile atop his head to secure for sleep. A gentle hand glides along the base of his spine as he tightens the knot, leaving him grinning at the warmth that blooms across his skin at such a soft touch.

“Almost finished?”

Cassian stands back to his full height, turning away from the array of products and vials placed neatly on the vanity. Nesta has her own hair braided simply down her back, her frame practically swallowed by the soft gray fabric of one of his shirts. She looks adorable, and Cassian can’t help but step closer into her space, hands sliding around her waist.

“All finished, sweetheart.”

Nesta hums quietly, pressing up onto her toes and stealing a sweet kiss. “You know, sometimes I think you primp more than even Rhysand.”

“It’s important to tend to your hair,” Cassian tells her, carefully walking her back toward their bed. “The best way to rise above those who think you’re beneath them is to always look your best.”

“Who said that?”

Cassian’s teasing smirk slips, the smile that remains tinged with sadness. That familiar ache, that familiar grief he’s carried with him for centuries now, twists and squeezes between his ribs. If he closes his eyes, he can still see a pair of warm brown eyes, can still hear a soft raspy voice sharing those exact words of wisdom with him.

“Rhys’s mother, Velaria. She told me that when she took me in,” Cassian explains, settling on their bed. “She never fully felt like she fit in here in Velaris as an Illyrian. Being Lady of Night and the High Lord’s mate didn’t matter, didn’t stop the high fae from sneering or whispering remarks about her heritage. But you’d never know it with the way she dressed, the way she held herself.”

“Like armor, in her own way.”

Nesta takes the spot beside him on the bed. She curls her knees up to her chest, shoving her cold toes right underneath Cassian’s thigh to leech his warmth. Cassian leans over enough that he can circle his arms around her legs, that he can tuck his cheek right against her knee, leeching his own comfort from his mate.

“Yeah… When I was young, I never quite understood, but when I got older…” Cassian chuckles softly to himself, the memory still so clear even after all this time, still taking him right back to the Hewn City. “She’d stroll into a room in a beautiful gown, jewels on her throat and head, not a single hair out of place, and those high fae’s faces?” Cassian whistles lowly. “And they couldn’t say a damn thing then.”

“She sounds lovely.”

“When she first took me in, I was certainly a mess from my time living in the bastards’ camp, barely even touched a hairbrush at that age. But she was quick to put me in my place and through my paces. She told me I could show off in the ring and win the Blood Rite all I want, but they’d never stop calling me a bastard if I didn’t stop acting like one.”

He still remembers that first bath after being welcomed into the cabin in Windhaven. The way his head had been dunked beneath the warm water, the way that water had run brown by the time he was finished. He still remembers being sat against Velaria’s knees and the wool skirts of her dress. Her quiet tsks from above him as a brush was yanked through his hair.

“She taught me everything I know about taking care of my hair. All the soaps and oils, how to protect it when I fly and when I sleep.”

If he closes his eyes, it takes him right back and he can picture it perfectly. Back before he hit his growth spurt, his feet dangling off the ground where he was pressed beside Velaria on the bench for her vanity table. He can see her delicate hands reaching for each vial and bottle neatly arranged in a row, can hear her explain what each one was and why it was important. She took the time to work each into her own hair, Cassian watching with wide, awe-struck eyes, his own smaller hands trying to mimic the exact movements, to copy the routine as she did.

“I think in a way I reminded her of home. Rhys and Rhia–Rhiannon, his sister–they both got their hair from their father. Velaria always said I had true Illyrian hair.”

“Unruly?”

Cassian laughs at the gentle teasing, but he can feel himself getting choked up, can feel that familiar pressure in his throat. “She taught me the Illyrian ways too, how to style and braid it. I even used to do Rhia’s hair for her.”

All those mornings and evenings spent here in the House of Wind, they forever hold a special place in his heart.

Even when he became too large for the vanity bench beside her, he would still visit Velaria’s rooms. He’d stand beside her in front of the mirror, working through their routines side by side. It didn’t matter that he towered over her now, she’d still tsk, still tug at the strands of his hair, still chastise and put him in his place even as she’d pat his cheek with all that motherly love. She’d laugh softly and look at him with that smile, with her brown eyes sparking with fondness.

He cherished those moments.

And then Rhia would come clambering into his own room, jumping on his bed until he finally got her to calm enough to sit down. He’d run the brush carefully through her hair, taking the time to braid it back in a way that the dark strands wouldn’t get tangled or in the way of her wings when she flew. She’d chatter the whole time, unable to stop even when she was sitting still. Always a bundle of never ending energy.

The feel of Nesta’s thumb sliding across his cheek pulls Cassian back to the present, and he realizes belatedly that he’s started to cry. He leans into her touch, into the comfort of it, of her, allowing it to ground him against the crushing grief he still carries like ice around his heart no matter how much time passes.

“I miss them both so much,” Cassian rasps, his voice barely above a whisper. “When I do the hair routine Velaria taught me, it’s like she’s still here with me, like I’m keeping her memory alive.”

“You are,” Nesta assures him. “And soon, you’ll be able to pass on that memory, to continue passing on Velaria’s legacy.”

Nesta uses her free hand to curl her fingers around one of Cassian’s wrists, to guide his hand to press against her stomach. It’s still early, still too soon for her to even be showing, but Cassian smiles through the tears still clinging to his eyelashes at the life growing just beneath his palm. At the idea of having his own child squeezed beside him and mirroring his haircare routine just as he did all those centuries ago.

And he just knows that wherever Velaria may be, she’ll be smiling down on him when he does.

—

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