#fae is just in denial

[artsonist-moth]

Colin (top left) belongs to @anartsydoge

[ghost-bxrd]

What about combining Fae Dick and Eldritch Jason?

Except, Bruce is genuinely clueless. He thinks both his kids are baseline human - guy has no clue how normal kids work, lol.

So when Jason 'dies', Dick is mad at Bruce for letting it deteriorate that far, but he isn't too grieved. He knows Jay will turn up sooner or later, the only question is how pissed he is going to be.

That's the main reason Dick staying back to support Bruce doesn't work - Bruce can tell Dick isn't anywhere near as cut up as he should be over his kid brother dying. He acts the part really well, but Bruce has known him for years and can tell when he's faking grief...

Now I can’t help but imagine Bruce and Alfred brokenly telling Dick about Jason, and Dick just being like “oh boy, ohhhhhh boy, that’s just… super inconvenient. Like, it couldn’t have come at a worse time.”

Alfred: … young sir, this is a shock, but we must all stick-

Dick: well duh it’s a shock, he’s been badgering me about the play at the theater next week for three months now. Do you have any idea how pissed he’ll be that he’s gonna miss it?

Alfred:… I’m not sure you understand the gravitas of the situation. Perhaps we should call Miss canary to-

Dick: oh I understand alright. You have any idea how much time Jay’s been spending on the upkeep of his body? Called me vain when he spent at least two hours each day arranging each atom to conform to human growth norms. The audacity. But no, seriously, he’s going to be so pissed…

[raviollies]

Theta is an incredibly old Hag having been able to survive for a millennium, her true age unknown as she herself stopped counting. Thus amongst Hags, not only does she rank as a Grandmother but a very powerful one at that, her only misfortune having been the last of her coven, the group having cannibalized itself in a struggle for power.

Such old Hags exist but are a rarity, and in some isolated pockets of rural areas they are worshipped as deities of the natural cycle of decomposition and as the group for life. Though this practice is few and far between and generally discouraged in favour of the standard pantheon and generally labeled as a false or old god. Their domains consist of ancient forests older than civilizations, not unlike Silvanus, though where they differ is that the Fae have a propensity to grant wishes and desires, for a price of course, rather than keeping a distance for the sake of balance (Often times this involves body parts [ a la what Auntie Ethel does in BG3, where they would be granted sight or hearing through your body] or living beings).

Theta's reasoning for pursuing Blythe is nothing special - she was simply seeking out Elven women with a potential, ones that have not awakened or honed their magical skills as to be molded and influenced (She sees it as teaching a chick to fly).

Like other Hags, Theta believes in the obscenity of love; patron of obsession and possession. She encourages Elven mages to cannibalize their lovers - and is staunch in the belief that consuming another grants their power. Whether or not that belief is fact or fiction is dubious.

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles Masterlist

1. Please Let Me Live || Vil Schoenheit

You get isekai'd into the worst novel you've had the misfortune of reading because apparently your life is a cosmic joke. Now all you have to do is not act like the character you've possessed and it'll be fine, you think?

Your fiancé being Vil Schoenheit makes it a little harder to behave like a human being with functional braincells, but hey, atleast he likes you, you think?

2. Villain System vs World || Riddle Rosehearts

You have a guilty pleasure: trashy villainess stories. So when you die a frankly, humiliating death, and end up in one of the worst ones you've had the pleasure of reading as the villainess, you're in denial. Then the villain system shows up. Well, there goes your second chance at life So what do you do now? Do villainous things and cause as much chaos as you can, of course. And maybe, just maybe, bag the male lead, Riddle Rosehearts while you're at it.

3. I'd Rather Date the Male Lead's Dad || Lilia Vanrouge

When you end up in your best friend's favourite but absurd novel about breaking a fae prince's curse as the heroine, you didn't expect to get attached to his little family too. Even more unexpected? You fell for the male lead's dad, but hey it looks like he likes you too.

4. Accidentally Falling for a Fae Prince || Malleus Draconia

When you get dragged into a novel which ends with the heroine in a polycule with the most annoying men in literature, as the heroine herself, you decide that you're gonna skip town. ...Only to trip over the fae prince, Malleus Draconia.

5. Not Another Royal Mess || Azul Ashengrotto

As a proofreader who gets isekai’d into a cringeworthy novel as the villainess, you decide to take revenge on the heroine and male lead for their awful story. With Azul—who just wanted to sell you a magic rock—pulled into your chaos.

6. Love Triangles and Royal Rumbles || Leona Kingscholar

When you get isekai'd as the male lead in the novel where your favorite character, Leona Kingscholar is the second male lead, all that's left to do is rewrite the romance!

7. I Want To Retire! || Idia Shroud

You write a novel that reads like a dumpster fire and while trying to delete the draft, you accidentally get isekai’d into it.

Now, as the villainess, you have to get Idia Shroud on your side as well as survive high society. You have your work cut out for you.

8. Stealing the Plot for Drama || Jamil Viper

The book you've been looking forward to turns out to be a piece of crap, and you have the bad luck of getting pulled into it as the villainess.

So you decide to steal the main character's show, just for sport with the help of your fiancé, Jamil Viper.

9. Falling for the Sun in a Cold Empire || Kalim Al-Asim

You lose everything you've worked for after a freak accident and end up getting transported to the novel that you read when you were a teenager.

As the villainess. It's time to rebuild yourself, one step at a time with a little help from Kalim Al-Asim, your betrothed.

10. My Consort Calls Me Shrimpy || Floyd Leech

You get isekai'd into a novel where the perfect Empress got absolutely wrecked by the plot, and now you have to juggle a bland heroine, 15 weird consorts, a traitor and a delightfully unhinged eel who’s oddly good at solving your problems.

11. Get Me Out of Here || Rook Hunt

You’re isekai’d into a trashy novel and stuck as a tragic side knight character. All you want is survival, but your boss is Rook Hunt—a poetic, eccentric duke.

Now you’re caught in his chaos and, worse, you kinda don’t mind.

[ghcstao3]

soap who grew up with a grandmother who constantly warned him about all the kinds of fae folk that existed, how to tell if someone was something, how to avoid them and how to fend for himself were anything to happen.

as a child, he soaked up all of her stories with awe, keeping all the rules in mind. as a teenager, he’d secretly roll his eyes but go along with her words to appease her. obviously fae folk weren’t real.

as an adult, not seeing her so often, he kind of… forgets. the stories and rules stay dormant in the back of his mind, never completely lost, but they’re not relevant anymore—at least, so he thinks. it’s all been dumbed down to fae folk are bad, and that’s about all he needs. soap goes years without so much as thinking the word fae, and his life goes on just as normally as anyone could have anticipated.

or, well. as normal as it can get, being in the sas.

and then he’s invited to join an elite task force, and that’s where he meets ghost.

soap doesn’t think it’s too odd to regard ghost as strange right away, not with the whole mask and mysterious persona thing, but as he gets to know the lieutenant more, there are certain things that start to have soap on edge. that have him thinking about fae lore more than he has in years.

like how his eyes reflect light like a cat’s at just the right angle. or how sometimes the way he talks just sounds off, almost like he’s trying to mimic someone else. the first and only time soap sees ghost’s face, there’s something uncanny about it that he can’t quite put a finger on. the tells continue to add up as soap starts to really look, and while he could never say exactly what ghost is, soap is sure as hell he isn’t human.

but the thing is… ghost isn’t bad. not in the way soap’s grandmother had warned him fae folk would be, at least. sure, ghost is a damn good soldier who’s garnered quite the kill count through various honed, deadly skills, but he isn’t bad. or evil, soap should say—even with questionable decisions, ghost’s heart always seems to be in the right place. he doesn’t have bad intentions unless something involves getting revenge, and he doesn’t unnecessarily hurt people just for the sake of his own entertainment.

it’s all confusing for soap, to say the least. his conflicting knowledge leaves him wondering if he should be trusting ghost, even in spite of the plentiful times ghost has proven he’s trustworthy. soap wonders if he should say something, wonders if he should drop hints he knows, wonders if ghost would be dropping an act the moment he’s been made.

the conclusion is pretty anticlimactic, all things given.

ghost catches soap alone after soap has had his realizations, having immediately noticed something off about the sergeant—which isn’t right, because soap is the human. he asks if something’s the matter, soap spills everything, and ghost doesn’t even flinch. just tells soap that his suspicions are justified, because ghost is a changeling.

“you’d admit it, just like that?” soap asks, dumbfounded.

ghost offers a stiff shrug, and no further explanation. he leaves soap feeling stunned, returning to whatever it is changelings do in their down time.

as if that didn’t open a whole new can of worms. as if a dam wouldn’t burst, and a million questions would come flooding into soap’s mind.

maybe he should pay a visit to his grandmother some time soon. it’d be nice to know whether he’s now in danger of being eaten, or something. soap can’t remember.

and now somehow, for some reason, soap has a burning desire to get to know ghost even better.

maybe ghost is evil, despite all prior judgements.

(or maybe soap is just in denial about a few things. but one thing at a time.)

[pomefioredove]

If you still take req for the event (if not ignore 🙏), could we pls get "I can't stop thinking about you." With Sebek

RARE SEBEK REQUEST 🙏🙏🙏

summary: "I can't stop thinking about you" type of post: short fic characters: sebek additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

You are a problem.

Not because you're always getting yourself into trouble, not because of your poor temperament, not even because of that direbeast you carry around with you.

No. Sebek couldn't have cared less about all that.

If that's all it was, he could have tolerated you. What's one more bothersome human to him?

You would have been no different from the others.

If not for...

"Ah, young love," Lilia sighs. There's a dreamy current in the stream of his voice that makes Sebek stiffen.

"It is NOT... love,"

The elder fae chuckles. "Yes, I remember what that was like. Denial is the first stage, you know,"

"That's grief, father," Silver mutters, keeping his head down to avoid being dragged into the conversation.

"And what is grief if not love?"

"Again," Sebek is tense. "I am not interested in such things. I have already devoted my life and service to Malleus."

Silver and Lilia give each other a look.

"You know, Sebek, it's okay to have these kinds of thoughts. You're young! You have the rest of your life to guard Malleus. You should have some fun," Lilia says.

"Father is right. Maybe you'll loosen up a bit. You're too stressed,"

"YOU'RE NOT STRESSED ENOUGH!"

Lilia sighs that certain familiar sigh.

"I admire your focus, Sebek. If you really want to rid yourself of these feelings, the fastest way to do so is confessing. That way, you won't spend months toiling over them,"

Sebek's expression flips forthwith, and he beams. "Thank you for your wisdom!"

Silver raises an eyebrow, and Lilia dismisses him with a wave. It doesn't matter, anyway; Sebek takes his words to heart.

It's long past dark when he pounds on Ramshackle's door.

Nonetheless, you answer, bleary-eyed and sluggish, a thumb-sucking Grim tucked in your arms like an infant.

"Sebek?" you ask. "Is... everything alright? Are you okay? Did something happen to Malleus?"

Your words of concern are like an arrow through his heart. Worried for both him and his liege?

But also... worried for him...

He better get this over with fast.

"Malleus is well, do not worry about him. This concerns us,"

You stare in disbelief, as if you hadn't heard him right. "Us?"

"Did you mishear me? I am here because I cannot stop thinking about you!"

"...Oh!"

Oh?

"...Me?"

"Am I not speaking loud enough for you? I said, I CANNO-"

Your eyes widen. "No! No, I heard you! I'm just confused. What exactly does that mean?"

Sebek crosses his arms. Of course. Sigh...

"Lilia said I might overcome my feelings for you if I express them. So? What do you have to say for yourself?"

You blink. You're clearly still tired, he thinks, otherwise you would have understood, accepted his words, and been gone by now.

Right? Nothing more.

"Um... I don't know," you finally say. "Maybe I can come to training tomorrow?"

Hm. A strange response, but not an unwelcome one. Sebek grins.

"Finally taking up the offer? Of course. Anyone who spends time with Malleus should know the basics of combat,"

You hum, looking up at the sky behind him. "I wasn't really thinking about spending time with Malleus, but... okay. Tomorrow,"

"Tomorrow!"

And with that, he's gone, with a warm feeling in his chest that wasn't there before.

Lilia must have been right about confessing- he suddenly feels much better.

[yuri-is-online]

Ace being so down bad for Yuu is funny. I love to bully this ginger mtf.

Imagine this dude has the perfect plan for a date and successfully asks Yuu out. And Grim hears it and now wants to join, and because Grim is an unmovable object when it comes to food, he gets included.

Another is the classic “Hey Ace, want a date?” He hears it wrong and without thinking he just says “Yes” And Yuu gives him a date, the little fruit thingy.

Grim is laughing cuz he doesn’t want his henchman to date Ace, he can’t pay the Tuna tax.

But the others have to hold back Sebek from yelling it at the top of his lungs, cuz this crocodile is getting tired of these situations.

IMAGINE IN HIS DREAM YUU AND HIM ARE DATING AND YUU CALLS HIM SWEETHEART OR SMTH.

“Why was my henchman calling you sweetheart?”

“How about we stop talking for a little while?”

aceyuu, best worst kept secret of NRC, has left 3 dead and 1 injured tonight after local crocodile fae had an accidental discharge of his unique magic

"They deserved it." He is reported to have said at the scene. "Seriously, is no one else tired of this? This is absolutely disgraceful behavior for people Lord Malleus respects!"

"He's not wrong but he still shouldnta hit em that hard." An onlooker who requested to stay anonymous said. For NRC news, this is Octavinelle Resident C.

I think there's a chance Ace might be Heartsabyul's dorm leader in his dream. He mentions wanting to be once or twice, and he clearly wants to surpass Riddle (it's his way of showing respect), I wonder if Yuu would be in his dorm in his dream?

He's the Queen of Hearts now after all, and you're his lovely little king all dressed up and sat by his side to preside over the Unbirthday party. It's weird to see how... normal he is while talking to you. No power tripping, still a tease here and there but nothing as loudly in denial as what you're used to. He even winks at the dream you when he turns to try and eject you and Silver from his court.

"You've got this, sweetheart!" The dream Yuu cheers and the real you looks at the ground because it is suddenly just that much more interesting.

Grim is never going to let either of you live this down.

[moosesarecute]

December 18th

December Masterlist

Masterlist

Azriel had spent the entire previous day seeking for a map of the continent, looking out for food and planning his trip.

Even though his entire body was fighting for him to travel to you as quickly as possible, he knew he would be stupid to do so without food and a plan.

Azriel had been trying to figure out what had happened. The spot on the map lead to the headquarters of a group he fought right before Amarantha. They had been working on kidnapping different kinds of fae and selling them as mindless slaves. They would fill the fae up with poison that made them forget themselves. Last time, he had left them alive. This time, he would make no such mistake. They had played with the wrong mate.

Azriel was living in denial, but deep down he knew that was what had happened to you. You had forgotten him. He was sure of it. He also knew that he would do all in his power to make sure you got your memory back. Or in the worst case, that you would make new memories together.

You were his mate, memory or not.

He was flying to the continent. He stopped on an island that was about halfway there. That was his usual resting place. Tomorrow would go to figuring out how dangerous the group had become. The day after, he would strike. He was going to get you.

Azriel fell asleep in his usual resting place. When he was out on missions he rarely dreamt, but this night his dreams were alive. They were all about you. He was dreaming about past memories with you. And his heart felt content.

He was so scared, he tried not to pee his pants. His new and soft pants that fit him perfectly. The female was kind enough, but the two boys, Cassian and Rhysand, seemed like bullies. He should be careful around them.

“Azriel,” Rhysand’s mother said. “The food is ready. My apprentice Y/N will dine with us as well as Rhysand and Cassian. Think you’ll be able to eat with us?”

He knew he was given the choice to not, but he didn’t dare to take it. He was too scared to do anything other than what the female asked him. So he went along to dinner.

At the table as a girl he hadn’t seen before. Rhysand’s mother lingered on his back as she spoke.

“Y/N meet Azriel. Azriel this is Y/N. She’s your age.”

The girl stood up from the table and walked the short distance to him. Azriel noticed her kind eyes, but was otherwise too scared to look at her.

“When’s your birthday?” the girl asked him.

He felt his heartbeat rise. Was he supposed to answer? Was it a trick question? He froze. Luckily for him, Rhysand’s mother answered the question.

“Yesss!” The girl exclaimed. “That means I’m older than you!”

Azriel still didn’t look at the girl.

“Please come to the table,” Rhysand’s mother said and they both did as she said.

Y/N, Cassian and Rhysand spoke as they ate. They seemed like friends. Azriel sat quiet and picked on his food. He felt himself long for the courage to join the conversation.

“What do you mean?” He asked her.

“It’s your birthday so I got you a birthday present,” you answered him.

He looked down at the gift in his hands. It was wrapped in a piece of old linen. He looked unsure at you, but he opened anyway.

It was a pair of black gloves.

“I made them myself,” you said proudly. “My first gloves actually. They’ll keep your hands warm and there’s also some compression in them.”

He was speak less, but you had already left, so he didn’t need to speak.

“Thank the mother,” you said in relief as you saw them walking to the house.

You ran over with tears in your eyes and tried to embrace all three of them at the same time.

Rhys, Cass and him had just won the blood rite.

“Told you we would come back,” Cassian told you.

You punched his arm, but still didn’t let go. It was the first time you had hugged him.

He hated to see you crying. Your face was filled with tears.

“We’ll kill the bastard,” Cassian said.

Azriel was too busy holding you to answer, but he agreed. No one was allowed to hurt his Y/N and get away with it. His shadows were already on the hunt.

You had gone on a bind-date and the snake had drugged you. You had been throwing up for the past hour.

Azriel almost threw up himself when he saw your widened pupils and wiggled walk. He was extremely relieved that he got to you in time. His shadows had been watching you.

He wished he could make sure not other male ever hurt you. He would do anything to make sure that you were safe.

“I’m sick of you doing this,” you yelled at him. “You go to dangerous places and get yourself hurt over and over again even though you knew you should have asked for help. You don’t have to prove yourself Az. You don’t have to give your all! You just have to make sure you come back to me alive. I can’t take this anymore. I can’t take watching the male I love coming home half to death. I can’t take it Az. I won’t.”

“You love me?” He stuttered.

Your eyes widened and you left the room before he could say another word.

The lights were dancing in the sky, but they were quite hard to see because of the snow.

You still refused to come inside. It was a year until next time, you wouldn’t waste it because of a little snow. (The “little snow” was now over a meter tall.) Azriel brought out a new blanket for you and a cup of hot chocolate. The laid the blanket over your shoulders and commanded the shadows to hold it tightly around you. He sat down beside you and the two of you sat in silence for a while.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” you started. “I shouldn’t have said that. It was completely out of place. I hope you can forgive me.”

“And what if I feel the same?” It wasn’t usual for him to talk so bravely, but he would never hide away his feelings for you.

He loved you and he had for a while now. He loved your smile and laugh, he loved your voice. Even when you were yelling at him, he couldn’t stop the longing for having you in his arms.

“What?” You stuttered.

He didn’t waist any more time.

“I love you too, Y/N. I have for a while now. I just didn’t think that you would want me, but now that I know you do, I don’t think we have any more time to lose.”

“I love you,” you said once more.

“I love you too, my dearest,” he answered.

You leaned closer to him and he looked from your eyes to your lips and back. He really wanted to kiss you. He leaned in slowly. It was a dream come true and it felt so right, but at the same time he wanted to make sure you felt the same.

In the end, you closed the distance and he still dreamed about how soft your lips were. His shadows exploded around the two of you. They were like butterflies in the stomach, but they had escaped.

You pulled away and both of you let out relieved laughs. Your forehead met his.

“That was amazing.”

He only nodded as an answer. He was too overwhelmed by happiness to talk.

You laid your head onto his shoulder and turned your gaze back to the Winter Lights. They were stronger than before.

Eventually, your hand ended up in his. And then his wing ended up around you. His wing laid carefully on top of yours. The trust that already lived between the two of you was the best feeling in the world.

As the lights started to dim, you stood up and looked at him. You reached out your hand and he took it without hesitation.

You guided the way back into the House of Wind and passed your entire family.

“What?” “Where are you going?” “Finally!” Was some of their reactions.

He didn’t care. You were holding his hand and he was finally getting to hold you for an entire night. He simply didn’t care about anything else. He held you as you slept. Your wings and his arms were wrapped around your body. His wings were wrapped around both of them.

It was perfect.

“What are you doing?” You asked him.

He had picked up your left hand and was painting a black circle around your ring-finger.

“I just can’t wait for it to be a ring around it,” he said. “So I thought my shadows could be the first ring I give you.”

One of his shadows wrapped themselves around your finger exactly where the black circle was.

Azriel felt the excitement in his entire body. He imagined marrying you. Cauldron, that would be amazing. The felt slightly embarrassed by the need to mark you as his, but at the same time he knew that you didn’t mind.

“I love it,” you told him.

As he lifted his head and looked you into the eyes, a silent gasp was forced out of him.

Mate.

You too let out a gasp and then you threw your arms around him in a laugh.

“It’s you! I can’t believe it!” You laughed and cried at the same time.

He was the luckiest male.

You hadn’t slept at all. You had tried to sneak out through the library, but Bru was sitting outside your bedroom. Halfway through the night, Cris came and sat as Bru went to sleep.

Their behaviour made you understand what you needed to know. They had figured out how you sneaked out the last two times, and they weren’t going to let you go again.

As the night moved on, more and more of your memories came back. You remembered your entire family, but when you thought about memories with them, you sometimes had blank spaces. Slowly but surely, more of them filled your mind.

You remembered meeting Rhys and Cass for the first time. You remembered all the girls’ nights with Mor. You remembered making breakfast for everyone after a night out. You remembered gifting Amren a embroidered case for all her jewellery. And last, but not least: you remembered meeting Azriel. Getting to know him. Falling in love with him and lastly, figuring out he’s your mate. You remembered him drawing that special black line around your finger.

You remembered accepting the bond by making him his favourite stew. You remembered spending an entire week entangled with his body. You remembered feeling the first arrow hitting your wing. And how you woke up cold and alone in a cell. You remembered being tortured by Cris and the rest of the group until you opened your mouth, and they could force you to drink the poison. How they wouldn’t let you drink anything that wasn’t poison.

You remembered waking up one day and being confused by where and who you were.

But why did they take you?

That’s what you wondered.

You had a plan. Knowing that the “medicine” was actually poison including faebane, you figured that the faebane would stay in your body for days to come. You would work towards finding a way out, but if you didn’t, you hoped that you could contact Azriel through the bond as the faebane disappeared.

You only hoped that Azriel still was looking for you. That he hadn’t let go of all hope. Reading his letters to you didn’t make you hopeful, but it was your only chance.

Until then, you had to find out what they wanted.

You sat in your usual chair in the living room, but instead of reading, you listened to the group’s conversations.

“We have planned this for three years, if this fails, I’m not going to continue,” one fae said.

“I’m not stopping till we have revenge,” Cris said.

“Isn’t stealing his mate enough revenge?” the one that said that whispered as he said “mate”.

“He destroyed our only way of getting money. He broke all of our hard work. I’m not giving up until that bastard shadowsinger is dead.”

Even think the thought of Azriel in danger made your entire body shiver.

You suddenly remembered Azriel talking about stopping a group of slave-traders on the continent. How they had made people lose their memories.

They were pissed at him and that’s why they had attacked you three years ago.

But why did they kidnap you and leave Azriel?

“The bloody shadows make this too hard! Why don’t we just move to a different place and start new? We have spent too long on this.”

“We have spent three years planning we are not quitting now. The girl trusts us, if we tell her he is dangerous, she’ll protect herself from him. He’ll never hurt her.”

You had to hold your hand against your mouth to stop you from gasping.

They wanted you to kill him. They wanted you to trust them more than your mate.

A couple of days ago, you probably would. But not now.

“The shadows destroyed everything, now we’ll destroy everything the shadows love.”

It was like one more piece of the puzzle was put in the right place.

The group hadn’t seen Azriel as he destroyed their work, they had only seen the shadows. When they were going to revenge, they therefore didn’t know what the shadowsinger looked like.

The attack had happened only a week after you accepted the bond. Azriel, and especially the shadows, were extremely possessive.

You were covered in them from head to toe.

The group that thought you were the shadowsinger and therefore they had taken you and not Az.

Taglist: @prettylittlewrites @hailqueenconquer @onebadassunicorn @mich0731 @tele86 @mellowmusings @anarchiii @anainkandpaper @donnadiddadog @atomictyphoonkitten @annablack @graciepies @salvatoresister1 @nastylicious @plants-w0rld @stqrgirlies-blog @scoliobean

Let me know if you want to be added!

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[hyukascampfire]

𝒯𝑂: 𝑆𝑂𝑀𝐸𝑂𝑁𝐸 𝐹𝑅𝑂𝑀 𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑀 𝐶𝐿𝐼𝑀𝐴𝑇𝐸 ༉

𝓘N THIS STORY 〃 a life lived as a human among the fae is one hard-earned. the folk are built of indescribable beauty, and of debauchery and mischief. for some, a life lived subservient to the folk is just fine; but to those who dream of something more, they would spend their lives clawing and biting to make it happen.

you, looking for a way to escape a life as a faerie’s human servant, put a new foot forward thinking that any life could be better than that. but, when your first assignment as a king’s spy is alongside a brooding, icy faerie man, you begin to wonder what your place in this foreign world really could be.

wc ➳ 23.2k

pairings faerie!taehyun x human!reader, faerie!yeonjun x human!reader

warnings angst, unprotected sex, voyeurism, orgasm denial, jealousy, angst again, dubious intentions of multiple main characters... poor mc has no idea who to believe

playlists ⑊ yeonjun ˒ taehyun ˒ series

…🪶ashlynn's note this part, i put my heart and soul into! i rewrote so many parts and agonized over following the path that i most wanted the story to go down—i hope it shows! xoxoxoxo, love ya! again, this is a long one, so pls let me know about spelling mistakes :,)

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You had hoped that learning of Yeonjun’s relationship with the same crowd who have made attempts on your life would be enough to rattle your brittle heart into sense. You really had. As you watch Taehyun, bent over the war strategy table, though, you wish you had more time to sort it out in your head. You hate the thought of settling on half-baked answers and information all for the fact that time is not on your side. When had time ever really been kind to you, though? It had not made exceptions when you were small and innocent in your cradle, had not slowed down to allow you to at least cherish your final moments a normal child with her human parents. You can only fantasize who you would be if you had been given just enough time to know that gentle love. Even now, time makes your choices for you.  

Taehyun looks over those metal figurines as if searching for something in them. There are more of them stood and strewn out on the map. It reminds you how you are now faced with a plethora of newer, more powerful players.  

You miss when this had been a simple spying mission—when your path forward had been unobscured and clear. You envy that version of yourself: able to believe that bad things presented themselves as such. The world had been clean-cut. Evil had jagged teeth and foul breath, and good had soft edges and sweet smiles. You’re not sure where that distinction lies anymore.  

“How’s your shoulder?” you say, making your presence known. You’re sure he had been keen to your presence from the moment you’d entered the estate, though; not only thanks to his better hearing, but also because Taehyun is constantly assessing his surroundings. The smallest insect could hardly sneak up on him. You push off the doorframe and enter the room. 

He nods his head once in greeting, but he doesn’t tear his gaze away from the table’s ensemble. “It’s doing fine.” 

Sighing, you decide not to push it. The sight of that puncture had been ghastly, and it wreaks havoc in your belly every time you replay it, but the tick in his jaw when you mention it tells you enough of how he feels about disclosing whether or not anything might hurt him. How many times in the past few weeks had you forced him to do just that? It’s no wonder that the two of you butt heads so terribly. Allowing you to stitch him up must’ve been the extent of how far he’d let you see him in need of help. 

You gesture toward the table. “Have you decided when we leave?” 

Taehyun answers you with a strained sigh out through his nose: a testament to how he’d been mulling it over. He levies those figures a few more moments of his gaze as if they might speak an answer for him. They don’t. He concedes to their lack of direction and turns to you. “Every moment we spend here, we risk our identities further,” he starts, crossing his arms over his chest.  

You wince. He still believes that you’d at least contained some of your identity by taking out those three faeries. You know better. Even the bard in that tavern had known what had happened; it’s why Yeonjun ended up finding out in the first place. Even if not all of them had been a part of that rebellion, it’s reckless to assume that there were no more than that. 

Continuing, he says, “And judging by what we’ve picked up, we need to get it all back before the solstice.” He doesn’t pace as he thinks. Only the faraway look in his eyes betray the noise in his head. 

You hate the way it sounds like he’s going to demand that you leave immediately, and you hate how it sieges your tongue and makes it dance into a pitiful ploy to stay. To give yourself some credit, it’s better that Taehyun knows every bit of information you have. This moment is desperate for informed decisions. 

“I saw Yeonjun this morning,” you blurt. The words bubbled and bubbled behind your lips until they’d found the tipping point and spilled out. You’d agonized over what to make of it all for hours: that Yeonjun had been as deceitful with you as you’d been with him, that you are a sorry human girl that had wedged her way into the cross-firings of a war much beyond yourself, that you still have the gall to consider your own feelings despite its grandness... None of that worrying had led you to a conclusion that both your heart and mind would agree on.  

Taehyun’s gaze snaps to you, contained and remote aside from the twitching at the corners of his lips. The intensity of it makes you waver, but you have no time for wavering.  

“He’s... been made aware of our purpose here. He knows that we’re spies,” you say. As you watch him try to piece that together, you add, “He’s part of their rebellion.” 

Now he laughs, barbed and full of mock and disbelief. “The prince is rebelling against his father? He thinks he’ll find the throne like that? What’s his plan for when this falls through? For when his father hears of his mutiny? The prince will lose his head.” 

The thought makes you nauseous, despite how Yeonjun’s image has grown to be something murky. You don’t know what Yeonjun’s intentions are in aligning with the rebellion here. You hardly know anything about his relationship with his father and the High Court aside from the fact that he feels suffocated by his life back there. You’d assume that there’s a lot more to his reasoning, but you’ve learned your lesson about assuming that you know who people are. The inability to lie comes with the need for secrets. The thought that perhaps Yeonjun is only making a shady attempt for power crosses your mind, but either your own reasoning or your own stubbornness shoves it down. Nobody in faerie would hand their fealty to a prince who’d taken the throne of a long-standing king by those sorts of means. He’d be a king with no denizens to preside over. 

You interject Taehyun’s parade of scoffs. “He told me that war is coming, that it’s been coming.” 

His face drops, and he straightens up. “Of course it is. It’ll begin the moment we return with what we’ve found.” 

Your lips go a bit numb, and then your fingers follow. You know that this is your duty—it’d been this all along. It should come as no shock to you that he intends to relay this all to The King. But that was before you allowed your heart to make its home here. How simply he demands that you return to those lands with information that would kill Yeonjun... it has acid crawling a path up your throat. 

You make your best effort to ensure that your voice doesn’t falter as you speak. “He offered us protection as long as we stay here,” you say. “We don’t have to leave now.” You try to catch his gaze as you add, “We don’t have to leave at all.”  

You know that Yeonjun plays a part in the rebellion, but you don’t know how deep his devotion goes, and you also don’t know to what ends you can trust his intentions. How far do his loyalties to the rebellion go? And, where do his loyalties to you stand? The thought that he may have never loved you at all... it’s been a plague to your heart and mind from the very moment he’d revealed the truth to you this morning. Your guilt has chipped away at you without mercy—you’ve spent so many awful nights wishing you could unload your deceptions in front of him. How had it ended up so trivial in the grand scheme of things? How are you the one left feeling betrayed? 

You really, really cannot imagine having Yeonjun’s blood on your hands. He is one of them—a creature deception, and yet you still cannot shake those stolen nights from your bones. He had been your first. He’d made this place a home for you, where you had never had a home. It’s pitiful to search so deeply in someone else for your own strengths; even you can see that. Nevertheless, you do it. You suppose that a pair of warm arms and sweet words will do that to someone, no matter if you know that they could rot you like sweets do the tooth. It’s not unlike drunkards who find their day’s comfort in their drinks, even as it rots their body and mind away. Anything for a stretch of belonging and bliss. You're desperate for it. 

Taehyun’s sinewy words rattle your wandering mind back to reality. “He tells you that he is a member of the same group of people that have tried multiple times to kill you, and you believe him when he says he’s going to protect you? Still?” he spits, shaking his head. “What makes you so sure that he’s not just keeping us from running? That he isn’t handing us on a platter to his rebel friends? You’re going to get us fucking killed.” 

Blood roars like frothy-white rapids in your ears, warring with the echoes of his honey-glazed exclamations of love. To some capacity, he had to have meant those words. Faeries can’t lie, and he had said it so plainly. He loves you. 

“We can’t leave yet,” you say, stepping toward him on legs that you fear might collapse beneath you. “You said it yourself; we can’t return without the whole story. If we return now, we could be missing something.” You study the frosty set to his face and suck in a stabilizing breath. “Please, Taehyun. Please trust me on this.”  

You sound desperate and pleading, but you don’t reel it in at all. You are desperate and pleading. You have no intent of returning as some successful spy and continuing a life of deception and violence. It’s not who you are; it’ll never be who you are. Maybe this world tries to ask it of you, but you refuse to concede to it. 

“Part of our job is staying alive,” he says, his body rigid. He doesn’t like where you’re going with this, you can tell that much. 

“Is that what you want? To be a pawn of war? Isn’t that what we are if we bring this information back?” you challenge. “Don’t you think that if the prince of all people has turned against him, then serving at his hand is the wrong choice? I don’t know The King—I’ve never even seen him! Why should I be excited to serve him?” 

“The prince has more reason than anybody to want his father off his throne.” 

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you say, stepping further toward him. Though, it does make you revisit those thoughts. If vying for the crown is really Yeonjun’s intention, you suppose he’d have no problems pleading with you to stay in order to tie off loose ends. You wish you could see it all from somebody else’s untainted eyes. “What I’m saying is, do you want to be a spy? What has The King ever done for you to earn your loyalty?” 

Taehyun looks at you with disbelief, the corners of his mouth tilting down. “I don’t care about the damn king,” he snaps, and then gestures down at the table with all those figures. “The Queen operates on necessary evils. Where she can find a string to pull, she will pull it. My father was her general for a reason. Do you think she would keep him unless she approved of his violence? There is no good side to this war—just sides. If you’re suggesting that we stay here and try to forget that we came as spies, then you can forget it.” 

You glance over at the war table and wonder how you’ve become a moving piece in ancient faerie politics when all you’d set out for was a purpose. You’d been so warped by your bitterness with your upbringing that you’d failed to see how anything could be worse than that. You’d been so excited that you jumped willingly into dark water without knowing how deep it was, and now your feet can’t touch the ground. Is this the purpose you want? 

“Leave, then,” you say, stepping back. “You can leave. Just let me stay here. Please.” 

Something in Taehyun’s expression flips, so subtle that you can’t name it. It unsettles you, your hair standing on edge. There is something in his eyes that you do not like.  

“So, that’s it?” he says, his voice odd too. “That’s all it took for you to hand your future over on a leash to him?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you stammer. The only ones with a collar around your neck are the spies. They’re the ones who insisted on that geas—the ones who needed to compel you with their faerie magic to ensure your obedience.  

“It means that you got all the way here, uncovered a whole rebellion, and made a life for yourself, not handed to you by a prince, and you’re going to trade it in. It means that you’ve let him convince you that you are weak and need to be coddled.” 

Your fists curl tight and dig your nails into your palms. “I never wanted to be a spy,” you grit out. Yeonjun is not the reason you want to stay here. He may be part of it, but you’ve come to be utterly unwilling to return to that spy den like it’s your home, or something. It’s not. You’d slept there for one night. Beyond just your word and that geas, what reason do you have to return? 

“You didn’t? And yet, it’s what we are, isn’t it?” he says. “Do you think that I dreamed of being a spy? That I do it because I love it? Actions have their consequences.” 

“Then, what do you do it for, Taehyun?” you say. “When do you begin living your life for you? Doing what you do because it’s what you want?” 

Taehyun seems to consider your words for a few long heartbeats before settling into something in his head. You allow yourself to let go of some of the tension in your shoulders as you watch his expression morph into something much less poisonous. 

You hadn’t expected him to react like that. 

“Do you have any weapons on you?” he says. 

Faltering, you sputter out, “What?” You look over the room. The last time you’d been in here, you’d sparred. Does he intend to properly fight you in here now? Had you pushed him too far? Shaking your head and feeling at all the places you usually tuck your blades away, you say, “No... I don’t.” 

“Get some. Where we’re about to go...” he trails off, as if reconsidering, but then he continues, “I’ll get you a hag stone.” 

You furrow your brows, not taking off to do so. “A hag stone?” you echo, thankful that he isn’t trying to duel you, but wary at the need for such a faerie ward. Hag stones are of the more serious class of wards used to protect humans from faerie enchantment or glamour. Most often, humans would string theirs up with a bit of thread through the hole of it and wear it around their necks as a pendant. Unlike turning one’s clothes inside out or taking red berries on your person, hag stones protect against the more devastating faerie magic. You shudder simply wondering what you might need a hag stone to protect yourself from. 

He nods a bit solemnly. “Kelpie do not let a meal or trick pass them by when they wait so long to have them.” 

You look at him with wild eyes, hoping to see him laugh or play his words off as a joke. He does not, but of course he doesn’t. Taehyun doesn’t waste his words on jokes. 

“Why... Why would we be going to a kelpie?” you ask him, laughing around the ball of fright in your chest. 

He lends you a wretched look. “I have old debts to call on.” 

❆

The forest in which Taehyun leads you is untamed. At some point, the sound of nature’s buzzing tapers off, and you know that you’ve entered a deeper forest than you ought to be sticking your nose in. When the forest goes silent, it’s only for one reason.  

You’d grown up here. Maybe you’d been born elsewhere, but that does not negate the fact that you had grown up scared every day of the powerful creatures that inhabit this world. Your fear has ruled you for your whole life, and you let it. You’d be a fool not to. It’s how you survive in this world. Your limbs tremble; they plead with you to listen to everything you’ve ever known—do not mess with what is bigger than you.  

You step around frost-capped puddles and dance between briars, careful not to snag yourself on their claws. It unsettles you further that this part of the forest is so untrodden and overgrown. With no folk coming through, you fear how the kelpie might behave when you make an audience before it. Will it climb straight from its frosty swamp and drag you back down with it? Is the hag stone you clutch at your chest enough to keep you safe? 

“I don’t understand why we’re doing this, Taehyun,” you say, delicately avoiding any tumbles as you speed up to gauge his feelings by his face. You’re not fond of the remote blankness in his eyes, nor the staunch determined set to his jaw. “That thing might kill us, and your shoulder is hurt. You shouldn’t be out here; you should be letting it heal.” 

“I know my limits,” he says. 

Grimacing, you return his curt tone. “Taehyun.” You grab at the material of his sleeve with urgency. When he stops to look at you, you continue. “I want you to actually listen to me. You’re being unreasonable. Yeonjun said he’d use his pull to protect us. Both of us. We have no reason to be out here, you’re just putting us in danger.” 

He lets your words stew in the air for a moment before saying, “I’m the one putting us in danger? Me?” He scoffs. “We are about as safe dealing with a kelpie as we are living off his promises. I’m doing what’s best for us. Trust me.” 

You’re winded by his choice of words. You’ve become wary of dealing out your trust so frivolously. Those two words ring alarm bells. 

“But where is this coming from? You didn’t want to stay.” Your breath furls out in a plume of white smoke in front of your face as you speak.  

He looks as if he doesn’t want to answer that. It only makes you more apprehensive. Your limbs fill with lead, planting you where you stand. “Taehyun, I’m scared,” you say. “Isn’t finding help from a solitary faerie a bit too far? How is trusting Yeonjun any more dangerous than that?” 

Taehyun steps toward you. “He is going to kill us. It’s not if, it’s when. That bastard is going to hurt you. This... This is for us. We are self-sufficient; we don’t need his protection shit.” A bitter tang colors his words. “I know that you’re scared. I won’t let it hurt you; I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise that you’ll be okay. You want to stay, don’t you?” 

You nod. You would even make deals with a kelpie for it.  

“Okay, then, let’s go,” he says, taking off with those words, effectively punctuating the conversation.  

You follow him. 

You grow more anxious the deeper you trudge into the forest without any consolation as the daylight begins creeping away. Following behind Taehyun, the wind whips at the perfect angle so that his form takes most of its terror, allowing you a respite from at least some of the brutal cold. You don’t feel any remorse using him as a shield against the elements—frost runs through his veins. He doesn’t shiver or wince at it. 

Taehyun stops a few feet before a wintry mire framed by crystallized cattails and reeds. Your heart stutters as he looks around to ensure that this is the right spot. The water is dark and deep. You stay a healthy distance away from it. You do not want to find out just how deep it is. 

“Where is it?” you say, keeping your voice low as if the beast might lunge from the water and snatch you up if you don’t. 

Taehyun surveys the forest surrounding you and then the body of water as he always does, and when he looks to you, you already know he’s calculated and planned. He doesn’t face a situation without thought—that notion soothes you, even if it’s to the slightest degree.  

“It won’t come until I call it,” he says, gesturing at those murky and horrible watery depths. Swallowing hard, you consider how close you stand to it. You take a shuffled step back. “When you see it, you need to stay calm. Don’t let it see your fear. It’ll find it amusing and latch onto you. Do you understand?” 

A rush of heavy dread spreads from your core and seizes your lungs at his words. You’ve made it this far. You want to stay. You want to stay, bad. If this thing outsmarts you, you will not go down without swinging this time. You have your daggers, and you know how to wield them. Bravery is most of the battle, isn’t it? 

You muster a nod, trying to give yourself a brave heart, but Taehyun shakes his head. Your eyes must betray how stricken you are. “Do you understand?” he repeats, his voice sharp and grave. 

“I do.” 

He accepts your words, pressing on. “It will try to trip you over your words and spin you into a trap with tricky words. Do not entertain it, even as it tries, okay?” 

You’ve been terrorized by faerie tricks your whole life. You can handle their schemes just fine. “Okay.” 

Taehyun frees a blade from its hiding place and brings it to his palm. He slides it there, slicing it open. Crimson creeps from the slit, running in between his fingers and trickling onto the snow. He’d cut pretty deep. 

“Why are you—Taehyun?” you say, stepping toward him as he curls his wounded hand into a fist over the water, shaking it so as to let the droplets down into the black water. You regret those steps you’d made toward him as something comes crashing through the surface. 

No, rather than emerging from under the surface, the beast is born from the water, manifesting from it as something gangly and wretched. From its pointed ears to its hooves, it pushes up from nothingness until it is standing there, real and terrible before you. Its skin glistens with a thickness like oil and its hair and tail hang in heavy, seaweed-like tendrils, plastered against its body. The scum floating on top of the water clung to its hair and pelt as it rose, twigs and the like poking from its withered body. A bridle cages its head, leather reins dangling down. Of all its awful things, you believe that its eyes are the worst—bone-white and piercing, they send a terror down your spine that solidifies in your bones. You know you will not soon forget the ancient soullessness that lives there. The folk do sometimes resemble the places in which they hail from; you suppose that the kelpie bares striking resemblance to the swirling water that sits at its feet. 

You try not to choke or gasp or react in any way at all, but it isn’t easy. You focus your adrenaline on keeping your breathing as even as you can manage. 

“It has been a long time since I’ve found a human at my doorstep,” the creature says, steam blowing from its nostrils as it snorts. How long might a long time mean to a faerie, especially one you know is so ancient? You hope that your presence does not intrigue the beast at all. 

Taehyun swoops in before you can speak, and you are boundlessly thankful for it. “I’ve come to call on the debt you owe me,” he says. He doesn’t leave any room for any familiarity or playfulness. 

“Is it that time?” the kelpie says, placing one hoof down onto the snow. It had looked so incorporeal and liquid that you half expect it to burst and turn to water as it does, but it climbs out just fine. Very real.  

Taehyun eyes the kelpie as it makes land, dribbling with water and its kelp hair swinging. You swallow hard as it disregards his presence to observe you. You’re used to the folk disregarding you, not this. How many years had you yearned for their attention? Right now, you scare under it.  

“For what do you need my help, boy?” it says, voice gurgled, “And why do you bring this human along? Is it for her? Or, rather, have you brought her as your peace offering?” 

Your legs tremble beneath you.  

“I don’t owe you any peace offering, kelpie,” Taehyun says, his head held righteously high. “You’ll offer me what I ask, or you’ll suffer for it.” 

Shifting under the tense atmosphere, you still don’t speak. In Faerie, debt is law. The folk live by a law that is, like many other things about them, foreign to you. Whatever natural laws by which they govern themselves are vastly lost on you—but of keeping promises and respecting debts, you are very aware. They hate to be indebted—you’re sure it’s why this kelpie is so peevish. You hope that the folk’s need to balance their debts is enough to keep it hospitable.  

The kelpie makes a rumbling and throaty sound that mimics that of a laugh. It rumbles the ground below your feet. “Just as rigid as the last time we met like this,” it says. “I wonder if it's because you’ve inherited your father’s stone heart, or because you fear me?” 

The kelpie remains playful with its intonation, but tension lies thick and dangerous beneath both of their words. You know well enough that the beast is not being light-hearted.  

Taehyun holds his face firm. He refuses to give an inch. “Do not try that with me. You have your word to upkeep for my help.” 

Shimmering under the moon’s light now, the beast treats us with a long moment of hostile silence. You can feel its malintent despite how hollow those eyes remain.  

“What do you ask of me?” it finally says, whipping its drooping tail behind it. 

“There is a rebellion here,” starts Taehyun, shoulders relaxing to the slightest degree as the kelpie defers, “The north is uneasy. I’m optimistic that you’ll lend us your protection and hand, whenever I call on it. Regardless of it being in my interest, I’m sure that you aim to keep your lands peaceful, no?” 

“Rebellion? For what would anything of the courts be in my interest? Of their rebellion or even just their ridiculousness, I do not care. I’ve left your gentry to you, leave me to mine.” 

Taehyun’s nostrils flare. “I’m not asking you to care about the courts, I’m asking you to lend me your help when I ask of it,” he grits out, “Or, rather, I’m not asking. I am informing you that I am expecting you to uphold your debt to me, and you’d better be ready to do so. This is just courtesy.” 

You feel the kelpie’s offense in the hollow quiet that follows Taehyun’s demands. Among many things, the fae are prideful creatures. Your stomach is in terrible knots. Taehyun is just trying to regain the power in the situation. You know that. It doesn’t make you any less scared for your life. With an ancient creature like a kelpie, it is paramount to earn its respect, or else it will push you around. 

Worse than that. It will drag you down into its waters and make your soul into a meal. 

“It’s a pity you think that hag stone will save you from me, human.” The kelpie turns its attention back on you. You bade your knees not to crumple. “It takes much more than that to protect you in places like these. Perhaps you’ll be safe from petty enchantment, though.”  

Taehyun shoves his words in before you can give the kelpie any sort of reaction. Not even a tremble. “Understood?” 

“You’ve made deals with our kind before. The magic reeks on you. It’s lousy enchantment, I could dissolve that geas for you. All you’d have to do is climb up on my back, and I’d grant you your freedom.”  

You can’t help but perk up. The prospect of ridding yourself of the geas placed over you is a painfully delicious one. 

Bristling, Taehyun steps between you and the kelpie. Whether he does it to fight off the beast should it lunge at you or to prevent you from approaching it, you’re unsure. “Do not,” he says. 

“Wasn’t going to.” You say it, and of course it’s true. The kelpie is poking around to see what will most entice you. Regardless, you can’t deny how awfully you wish that geas were gone. It’s the one thing that you fear will tether you to The King’s bidding. No matter how you armor yourselves from the rebellion here in the north, what’s to stop the spies from tugging on the enchanted leash? One command from Cricket, and your body would betray you and walk the whole way there itself. 

Though you don’t verbalize your interest, the kelpie no doubt sees the interest alight in your eyes. It pounces accordingly. “Unless you’d prefer that I give you a whole other enchantment. Protection against any of our kind’s glamours? Permanant true sight? A touch to my pelt would be all it would take for you to make yourself free.” 

Taehyun clicks just the hilt of his sword free from the sheathe. “Stop with the tricks. You can find your fun elsewhere.” 

Like the swampish water behind it, the kelpie stands there totally still, studying Taehyun. You really wish this altercation could wrap up at any pace faster than it currently is. You’re itching to escape those white eyes. They’re much more intimidating as night settles in. What sort of thing had Taehyun even done to indebt a creature like this to him? Once again, you’re left confronting how little you know of him and his past. By the time you’ve come to terms with the last thing, the next arrives to remind you that the folk lead much longer lives than you do. 

It finally speaks again. “Why have you brought this human with you, Lord?” Its furls out the term like a weapon. This bitter intonation that you’ve seen be used multiple times to speak of Taehyun’s title sticks with you. The title is a taunt. In this case, the you know it comes from the kelpie’s place of utter indifference and lack of obeisances toward whatever sovereignty the Courts may claim. The kelpie only answers to the land.  

“Because I needed you to know that your protection will extend to her. Know her face, learn it so that when I call on you, you’ll play your part correctly.” 

“I fail to see why you dote over her safety. Who is the human to you?” The kelpie takes a step forward, its powerful muscles rippling with the moon’s white light on its ink pelt. You mirror it with a step back. Taehyun stays put. “I owe her no help. That’s not how this works. I concede that I am bound to your help, but I do not repay double. You overestimate my generosity.” 

You watch as Taehyun takes on a posture that you’ve come to recognize as his offensive posture, potent adrenaline twisting up your stomach and sending your heart into a fit so fierce that you feel it in all your pulse points. You’re sure that swords are a laughable matter to the kelpie. Iron, though, you’re sure would still burn. Turning your hands to fists, you make a conscious effort not to find your iron weapons. If the kelpie were to see that, it may escalate things. You do not want to escalate.  

It’s only smart for you to consider your disadvantages: Taehyun is wounded. He had literally been struck by an arrow last night. You’re so far into the woods that running would consist of stumbling over roots and avoiding thorny bushes. Taehyun might know them, but you’re fully unfamiliar with a kelpie’s weaknesses, or if they even have any at all. You’re better off appeasing the beast.  

“Taehyun,” you warn. 

He pays it no mind. “I said,” he snarls, “stop with the tricks. You owe your very ability to draw breath to me, and beyond that. It was my neck on the line to grant you that. What I did for you was worth many debts. If you want to settle it all to even, you’ll do it. Don’t play this like a fool.” He doesn’t address the kelpie’s first question. 

Taehyun creeps toward the kelpie. You’re not sure where he sources all that fearlessness from inside himself. He’s way too close for your comfort. “What are you doing?” you hiss, quiet and meant for just him. There is no way he intends to fight this thing right now. You’d prefer taking the risk of trusting Yeonjun’s word over this any day. 

“Even the general”—the kelpie spits that word with a similar distaste as he had Taehyun’s title—“knew when he was in over his head. Ask a more respectable payment of me.” 

You suck in a breath. “Let’s just go,” you tell Taehyun. “We don’t need to do this; we didn’t need to in the first place.”  

As Taehyun takes one last step toward the kelpie, he reaches a sword’s distance from it.  

Really? Is this happening right now? 

“I’m giving you grace right now, kelpie,” he says, his voice pure warning, “My father is the one who landed you like that. It’s humorous that you’d even speak of him while we’re sorting out the debts that you incurred because of him. I suggest that you give up the sly act.” 

Once again, a charged and meaningful pause rings throughout the forest. The silence speaks volumes of how the kelpie takes his words.  

It’s a flash of movement, the two dark figures like blurs as Taehyun’s hand flies out to grab a hold of the reins that hang from its head and the kelpie rears back with a bone-piercing, harrowing whinny. He braces himself on its side and uses its flank to push off of. The creature bucks fast, but Taehyun is faster.  

The rage that it bellows with guts you. The forest ground trembles with its frantic clambering, hooves battering the snow.  

The kelpie’s frenzy ends as Taehyun takes the reins in both hands. It doesn’t make any more attempts to send him off, nor does it stumble about wildly. It settles. The kelpie bows its head. Your hands cover your mouth. They’re ready to muffle your scream. You wait for Taehyun to become one with the beast’s figure and for it to drag him down to the depths of its water that don’t see the sun’s light. Nothing happens. Instead, he slips off the back of the kelpie without any trouble, landing with a thud back on the ground.  

“Fix your appearance,” Taehyun commands.  

You allow a sound of surprise to slip as the beast melts down, shedding water to the ground and crumpling over. You watch it shrink all the way down until, where once the gangly beast had stood, the form of a faerie man stands. He unfurls from the forest floor to his full height, taller than Taehyun and reedy in his limbs. His hair cascades down from his head in shaggy, damp brown locks with twigs and leaves tangled in. Sharp faerie ears protrude from it. It confirms to you that this is just another form of the kelpie, not someone else entirely. 

“You’re a fool,” the man says, turning on Taehyun with wild eyes.  

You join his confrontation on Taehyun. “What the hell is going on?” you say. You’re still jittery with the urge to run. 

Taehyun entertains only you, saying, “I hoped that he’d just make things easy in the first place.” 

The man, dripping with water from his tattered, sopping rags for clothes, sneers. “I would not serve you if you fucking killed me. Of course you had to take my bridle.” 

You give Taehyun an expectant look. You’re in dire need of being filled in. 

“His bridle,” he says, grabbing the reins that still hang from the man’s face even in his human form and tugging him into a walk into the forest, “I grabbed it. He serves me, now. He can hate it all he wants, but he’ll do what I ask.” 

The thought makes you deeply uncomfortable, but you can’t pin exactly why. It lives somewhere around the place inside you that loathed the way the folk made your kind into their glamoured servants.  

“We’re just going to bring him back with us?” You trail them tentatively back through the woods that you had arrived from. “Like a prisoner, or something?” 

“Exactly like a prisoner,” the man says, excited to get a hit in on Taehyun. Of course, he’s unhappy.  

He stumbles as Taehyun tugs him forward by his bridle. “Shut your mouth,” Taehyun says. It’s more commanding than angry. “What’s your name?” he asks him.  

The man looks as though he wants to deny him that knowledge. Names are a powerful thing to a faerie. They spend their lives hiding them away—to give away their real name would make them totally vulnerable to the whims of whoever knows and uses it. However, you assume that whatever hold Taehyun has over him now works in a similar way, and his lips move despite his revolt.  

“Beomgyu,” he answers, eyes full of bite. 

You climb between a pair of close-resting, gnarled trees. “Does he have to keep that thing on, Taehyun?” you say, struggling with the sight of him being dragged along. It’s unsettling. “Like, does it work without that?” 

Stopping, Taehyun reaches up to pull the bridle off and around from Beomgyu’s head. He lets it fall to the snow. “You can use his name if you need to command him and I’m not around. He’ll have to do what you say.” Pushing Beomgyu into a walk, he says, “You’re going to protect us if in any case we need it. That includes her. You’re going to stay within my estate, unless one of us brings you somewhere. You won’t try your hand at any escape, and you won’t make any attempts to harm us either directly or by omitting something you are aware will do so.” 

You rub your hands together to generate heat as he lists his commands. Why would he even need those precautions, if Beomgyu is supposed to be his compulsory servant now? Would that not mean that he’d be unable to harm him? Either Taehyun is being extra precautious, or the command he has over him is weaker than you had thought at first. Beomgyu scowls the whole way through. Perhaps if Taehyun had not spoken those exact words, he would have lunged at him. 

As the kelpie stalls, Taehyun urges him forward once again with a shove. “Walk,” he snaps. “You did this to yourself. If you’d been a respectable man, I’d have only asked for your help when we needed. Now, you’re following us everywhere.” He allows him to stew on that for a little before saying, “You do your job well and I’ll let you return to your waters. I’ll forget I even made you my servant, and you’ll live knowing you’re no longer in my debt. You’ll not have to worry that someone might tame you again, because I already had, and I won’t even utilize it. We’ll never even make each other’s acquaintance again. You’ll be free to toil in your forest, and I will stay far away. All I need is for you to keep us alive and unharmed.” 

At least he doesn’t intend to keep him forever as an eternal servant. Most faeries that fall into debts work their long lives as living servants. Your years as Nut-hatch's worker taught you how that life whittles your soul down. Hundreds of years of just that is unfathomable. Maybe that is the cost of betraying honor here, though.

“So be it,” Beomgyu says, teeth gritted.  

You continue to trudge through the forest behind them. 

❆

Once you’re within the walls of the estate and Beomgyu is given a place to stay, you turn to Taehyun. “What part of that was safer than trusting Yeonjun?” you say.  

His eyes drop closed and he sighs. “It was worlds safer,” he grits out. “I knew what I was doing. You had that hag stone, and I’d have cut him down if he tried anything.” 

He stretches out his shoulders, shifting them uncomfortably under the fabric of his tunic. You know that his sewn-up wound bothers him. Could it be getting infected? You hope not—an infection this early on would most definitely mean it would be a nasty one. If only he weren’t insistent on pretending that it’s nothing. “I don’t think you could”—you gesture at your own shoulder—“you’re going to infect your shoulder. I don’t know how to treat an infected wound that big.” 

“I wouldn’t have even gone there if I thought I couldn’t handle it. I had a plan. I can protect us just fine.” 

Us. You’ve been wondering what your purpose here might become once you abandon returning to your duties. Would you be staying with Yeonjun? If he betrays you, and Taehyun were to push you out now that you’re no longer partners in duty, where would you go? Crawl to the doorstep of some random faerie to place yourself in their services, just to find yourself a warm place to stay? Taehyun now makes it clear that he still sees the two of you as a pair, but why? You still can’t understand why he’d suddenly switched up the moment you said you’d stay here even if he left. Realistically, he should’ve killed you for being a traitor to the king that he serves. You know that his intentions are more complex than that, but you fail to grasp where they lie. His actions and his words clash.  

“And when Yeonjun doesn’t betray us? What will all of this be for?” 

“This doesn’t stop at the prince,” he says, “there are more players than just him and The Queen. Any one of them could determine that we’re liabilities. Don’t you think that we should prepare for that? We came here as spies infiltrating their court from the very king that they rebel against; of course they’ll have plans for us. It’s still best that you stay your distance from the prince from this point on, regardless, unless you bring the kelpie.” 

Your mouth drops open, brows pinching. You don’t like the thought of being chaperoned at all. If Yeonjun is to betray you, then it’ll be your own fault. You can take the consequences of your actions just fine. “I think I can make that decision for myself,” you say, voice low. “And I can protect myself, too. Are you saying my skills aren’t up to your standards? Well, I didn’t spend that time working on them for nothing, and I don’t plan on stopping. I know I’m not perfect, but I think I can at least use a dagger adequately.” 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Taehyun says, eyes flat with frustration. “You can protect yourself well. I know that. What I mean is that you shouldn’t rest your life on his integrity. I have no doubts that you’d be able to protect yourself from him alone. He’s delicate. The King doesn’t pamper his children, but I have no doubt that the prince hasn’t wielded a sword anywhere other than in sparring. But you don’t know if you’ll ever truly be alone, and you don’t know whether or not he’s setting you up. I think you can at least agree that it’s best that you can acknowledge that and behave accordingly, no?” 

“I rested my life on your integrity today. Am I supposed to trust you blindly, too? What if you’re just stringing me along until you kill me for my treason to The King? You were his spy, no? How many years did you serve him? Why have you given it up so easily? Why are you staying here? None of it makes sense to me, but I still trusted you. Was I wrong for that? Are you a liar, Taehyun? Does your tongue tell lies?” 

His eyes crystallize, a few degrees colder than you’d seen them all day. “I can lie,” he says. “But would I have done what I did today if I intended to kill you? It’s time that you see that actions tell you so much more than words ever will.” 

Again, he treads around your questions about his intentions. “Why are you staying here?” you repeat, studying him with your suspicion.  

He’s quiet. 

“Answer me,” you demand. 

“Is this not my home?” he says. 

Unsatisfied, you press more. “I thought you hated this place. Why would you want to stay here? Don’t you have an awful reputation here?” 

His eyebrows shoot up, but his face stays hauntingly blank. You’re used to his blank mask, but this feels different. “If you think that I left here because of my reputation, then you’ve fooled yourself.” He begins making for his quarters. “I have obligations to fulfilling my father’s role as Lord of this estate,” he says before turning and ending the conversation on his terms. 

That leaves you just as confused. If he cared about his responsibilities here, he would’ve never left them in the first place to become a spy under The King. It makes no sense. Whether or not it’s true, you’re positive that you aren’t getting the whole story. You sigh and drag your feet bed-bound. You hope to never have another day as unending as today again. 

❆

You dodge Beomgyu for the entirety of the day, not sure what to make of a new presence around the estate, even if it’s an indebted servant beast of a presence. You’d half expected Taehyun to rope him up in the horse stalls outside, making that his permanent residence, but he’d given Beomgyu a place somewhere in the servant’s quarters. You’re glad of it—you may be wary of him, but you don’t wish anything like that for him. Now that he has a more human form, you find yourself able to empathize with him more than you were when he was a hulking, killer water horse. He doesn’t necessarily run around much—without a doubt because he’s not the happiest about being forced into Taehyun’s servitude. You don’t blame him. 

Despite your efforts, he enters the kitchens while you’re alternating between chomping on a slice of bread and a platter of dates. He eyes you. Though in this form his eyes are not as piercing, they’re still heavy.  

You offer him a slice of the bread and push the platter toward him. “Hungry?” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t eat the way you do.” 

Then why’d he come to the kitchens? Either he’s exploring, or he came looking for you. “Not even like this?” you ask, gesturing down to his form. 

“I eat when someone is foolish enough to come to my waters,” he says. “I thought I’d be eating yesterday, but the Lord subverted those plans, didn’t he?” 

You laugh a bit, though it’s absurd to laugh about being eaten with the same creature that had intended to do so.  

“I sometimes go for more years than the entire span of your human life without eating,” he says, tilting his head to one side. Shaggy locks of hair follow his head with it. It’s unkempt and in dire need of a washing to rid it of dirt. 

You gesture at his dirt-smudged cheek. “Do you want to clean up? I’m sure Taehyun has some clothes to spare for you. There are some pretty nice bathing quarters, here, too. The kind that makes you reluctant to get out.” 

A wry smile cracks across his face, a bit feral like the rest of him. “I’m not afraid of some dirt. These are my clothes. I’d go naked before dressing myself in his.” 

“Okay, then,” you snort, shrugging. “No baths.” You rip a bite out of the wrinkled fruit in your hand. “How did you even end up... in debt to Taehyun?” you ask, eager to fill yourself in. If Taehyun insists on not telling you anything, you’ll find it in other places. You’d picked up that it had something to do with his father, but you need to know more. The more you’re able to piece together, the better you’ll be able to make sense of Taehyun’s behaviors. You hope so, at least. He holds is truths very close to himself, and almost everybody else seems to harbor a poignant distaste for him. 

Beomgyu’s face sours up again. “I had a dispute with his father. The General was going to raze my forest and kill each one of us. I’d called on him and asked for his help. I’m not sure what he did, but The General never came. If I knew it’d land me like this, though...” He grimaces. “I’d have just let him make me history.” 

Reigning in the laugh that bubbles in your chest at his resentment, because you’re positive that you finding humor in his misfortunes would ruffle him, you nod and pocket that information. “Then, why didn’t you just agree to help when he tried to collect your debt in the first place?” 

“I was going to,” he snaps. “He’s just a prideful creature. No patience. If he’d waited a few moments, I’d have agreed.” 

Humming, you don’t tell him that he’s definitely the one who wound himself up like this. Taehyun had made it clear multiple times that Beomgyu needed to stop playing around.  

Taehyun’s voice comes from the doorway, cutting into the conversation with its matter-of-factness. “Speaking bad on my name while I’m away, kelpie? Should I amend your list of commands to include watch your mouth?” His tone is bare and humorless. 

Beomgyu bristles beside you, about to rebut him before you spy the weapon at Taehyun’s hip and interrupt before they can come to verbal blows. “Where are you going?” 

Taehyun rips his icy gaze from Beomgyu to you. “To Court,” he answers, plain and as if it were obvious. 

Furrowing your brows, you say, “Court? Why didn’t you tell me we’re going? I don’t want to get ready in a rush.” Your mind turns. You weren’t even sure what you’d be doing now that you’re no longer here as spies. There’s no need to infiltrate Court, now. Would you just be attending as revelers? Not to mention that Yeonjun no doubt has no clue that you’re even staying. You hadn’t seen him since you’d ran to him yesterday morning and had your world thrown for a loop as he revealed his truth. How had so much happened in one day?  

His mouth hardens. “You’re not attending with me,” he says, knuckles turning white over the pommel of his sword. “You’ll stay here with him today.” 

Your heart thrums in your chest; not with fear like it had been doing so much over the span of the last few days, but with anger. “What?” you say, shock straining your voice. “No. I’m getting ready; wait for me, or don’t. I don’t care.” You spin on your heels to do just that, gritting your teeth. He thinks he can tell you what to do? Is that it? You don’t care what he’s done for you, or what power he thinks he has over you because of it. You’d left your life of taking commands behind for a reason. This was supposed to be new beginnings, not just your past life under a new skin. 

He catches your upper arm frantically. Whipping your head to him, you rip yourself away from him and back off. “I said, no,” you grit out, lips twitching into a heavily emotional scowl. It’s not just that he’s telling you to stay back today: you know that what he’s doing is much bigger than that. It sends memories of a life in a seamstress’ cottage flooding back. You struggle to keep your head afloat, to keep yourself from drowning in it, but they’re old and deep wounds. 

“Oh, look at that,” Beomgyu croons. “You are just like him. Except, your father was a general, so at least he had some reason to believe that folk would obey him. You? Not so much.” 

Taehyun’s head snaps to him. He barks a command. “Leave.” 

His eyes flash and he reels against it, but Beomgyu’s body moves against his own will. There’s a spark of ravenous hate smeared across his lips and in the glare he gives Taehyun as he leaves. 

“So, you’re just going to hand out commands and expect them to be followed now, huh? Because you’re suddenly just... taking up this role as Lord? Well, you’re not my Lord. You’re not his, either.” 

He crosses his arms over his chest. “Stop that.” 

Laughing a bitter laugh, you spit, “Stop what? Oh, I’m sorry. I should just obey you like a good human does, huh? ‘Cause that’s what we’re for, right? My bad, I’ll get a head start on working around the estate—what would you like for dinner, my lord? Or, do you need me to press your clothes? Go ahead and place your glamour over me, so at least then I won’t have to serve you consciously.” Your words are angry, but you choke toward the end around the lump of emotion in the back of your throat. 

He takes both your arms into his hands, his brow furrowed hard. “Stop it,” he snarls. “Stop it, damn it. Don’t do that. You’re not a servant here. Don’t you try to cry to me, I expect better than this from you. That’s not it at all.” 

You shove back on his chest, putting some distance between you. “I’m not crying,” you say. “And, so what if I was? There’s nothing wrong with it. Really, I think it’d do you a little good to cry some time.” 

“It’s weak,” he says. “Pitying yourself just ends up making you into a fool. If you just sit around and wallow, you’ll stay where you are. The only thing you can do is act.”  

That sounds about right coming from his lips. “Is that what your father taught you?” you ask. “Well, he was wrong. You can cry and try and take care of things at the same time. Crying is not the weaker emotion.” 

“I’m just asking you to stay back today,” he says. 

“Why?” you say, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “Tell me why? It’s not like we’re spying around or have some sort of mission to keep secret. Why can’t I just go enjoy it like that for once?” 

“Can you just do this for me?” Taehyun says, jaw tight. “I just need you to stay.” 

You’ve become sick of him not telling you things. Being in the dark never feels good, but it especially feels like shaky ground now. If he thinks you’ll be attacked, so what? You’re the one who wanted to stay here. Let you come. You’re better off being attacked as a group of three than he would be by himself, no? 

You decide to lean into his own concerns to appeal. “What if they’re waiting for you? Wouldn’t it be better that Beomgyu and I are there? Isn’t that why you did that whole thing yesterday?” 

He shakes his head. “If they are, then it’ll be easier for me to slip out if it’s just me.” 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you determine by the solemn lines to his face that he’s not going to give. “Fine,” you say. “I’ll stay here today. If it’s so necessary, I’ll stay here. Do you want me to stay inside the estate, too? Could I go see Yeonjun?” 

“I’d prefer that you stay here,” he says, slow and measured and veiling tension. 

You shake your head, pairing it with a tired laugh. “Yeah, right, I forgot. He’s a threat too. Well, you have fun then.” Turning and departing from the kitchens, you leave behind your bread and dates. So much for lunch. 

❆

Reaffirming Taehyun’s ability to lie, it was not just that one day. The next day, Taehyun slipped out for Court, sword on hip and pleading with you to stay in the estate on the terms that he believes they still might have an attack planned for you. It turned into a week that you were cooped up in the estate, and then two. The same walls you’d once looked at in wonder for their beauty became the ones you stared at mindlessly during the most boring of hours. 

You spend most of your time listening to Beomgyu drone on and on about the ways he’d tricked faeries and humans. He’s quite odd, but it’s not like you can blame him for it—most of the folk are odd to you, and he’s an ancient beast among them. You feel like that warrants a spunky personality like his. He’s nice company, anyway. Such a long life lends you an impressive wealth of stories. 

You can’t help but think about Yeonjun. He’s got to have seen Taehyun at Court by now. If there haven’t been any incidents at this point, doesn’t that mean that he doesn’t intend to betray you? The images of him thinking that you’re avoiding him makes you want to slip out to see him. You not sure why you don’t. Maybe the lies that sat between you affect you more than you thought they did. You’re quite the hypocrite, though. You’d kept secrets just as much as he had. 

You miss those stolen nights you two had shared. A knot, queasy and pessimistic, sits in your belly each time you lay in your bed and remember them and tells you that you’ll never see anything like that again. You’d allowed a girlish part of you to blossom beside him—a part of you that could throw caution to the wind and melt into the fun things in life.  

As you rot your days away in that estate that has become more like a dungeon than an estate, you allow yourself to miss him only a little. Once it begins transforming into a certain impending doom about how you’d thought that staying here would be everything you’d ever wanted, you find something else to do. If you aren’t toiling around by yourself or listening to Beomgyu drone, you’re practicing your combat skills. The times that Taehyun stops in to help you, it ends with you insisting that you’re fine to make appearances in Court by now, or at least see Yeonjun with Beomgyu in attendance. He never agrees. Each time, it’s the same awful excuse: Tensions are worse. He doesn’t know if they’re planning something. When you ask why he demands that he can attend, but you and Beomgyu can’t join: He’s a lord. It’s his duty to attend Court. 

The solstice is nearing, too. You’d looked forward to it, honestly. Hopefully Taehyun will let you attend by then. 

You sit crisscrossed on the hardwood flooring, running your fingers through your hair. Beomgyu is stood a couple feet away, and makes big gestures as he explains the one time he’d been called to attend Court as a solitary faerie. Moments like this have kept you grounded over the weeks. 

“And the stupid crone tried to say that I was wrong for catching him,” he exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head as if the ancient memory were still as fresh as day one.  

You laugh. “What did you even do to end up there, anyway?” you ask. You can hardly picture Beomgyu in the setting of Court, even more so meeting with The Queen and her council. Moreover, you’re intrigued to know what he’d said to talk himself out of trouble. You’re amazed that he managed to make a sufficient enough case to save his life. 

“They said that I’d been taking too many of their folk—hah! I must eat too, you know? Oh, the pretention! Do they expect me to starve? If a fool lands themselves on my pelt and then in my waters, it’s only natural that they’re eaten. I’m simply freeing them from one more mud-brained fool. The Courts are full of those, too. It’d take me a millennium to eat them all. What are they so worried for, I wonder? They do the very same to their own people.” 

“Aren’t they ridiculous?” you say. Like you, he’d been an outsider in Court. Though you’re sure that it’s just as, if not more, intricate to those well-versed in it, to the ones like you two... It’s odd to see. You had grown used to it in the time you spent there, but you still know what the first day had felt like. Anyway, you hadn’t spent as many days there as you feel you had. All that had happened had bloated that time in your memories. “To be quite honest with you, your kind are all so odd to me. I grew up among you, but still... my instincts are always kinda at odds with my surroundings, you know?” 

Beomgyu considers that for a moment, as if trying to view the fae from a human’s eyes. “Even when we look so similar?” he asks you, grabbing at a lock of his hair and making a round gesture over himself. 

You nod. “Even in this form, you just... I don’t feel like I’m looking into the face of another human. Maybe that’s because I watched you turn to this from a horse, though.” 

“A kelpie,” he corrects. “What gives it away?” 

“Sorry, a kelpie,” you snicker. You look over his face. It’s so close to right, but somewhere in your mind you can decipher that something is not right. Like all of the fae, though, there’s an unspeakable beauty there, beyond explanation. It demands your human attention. Even the most terrifying are beautiful. “Well, for starters, your ears. They’re pointy. All of you have that, and none of us do. And then... I guess”—you narrow your eyes—“your eyes? They’re just different. And your limbs are pretty lanky, too.” 

He frowns as if he’s unable to see it. “You don’t sound so sure,” he says, joining you on the floor. “I’ve had quite some time to look at myself in my life. I don’t think I ever saw any of that when I was in this form...” 

“I’m sure you did,” you say, lips turning up in a playful mock. A water creature no doubt has an eternity to stare into the water at themselves in its rippled reflection. “Did you do a lot of that?” 

Scowling, he huffs. “No. But I’m sure you would, if you looked like this, huh?” 

You roll your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.” His face morphs from dismay to careful concentration. Frowning, you look around and ask, “What?” 

“I hear somebody,” he answers, pushing off the floor. 

Your spine tingles, but you search for the logical explanation. “Like... Taehyun?” 

“No... the walk is definitely different.” He strains to listen. “He’s usually pretty quiet. This one... they don’t conceal their footsteps.” 

Neither of you can get to a window to scope anything out before there’s three heavy knocks from the door, the metal knocker ringing. You shoot him a wary look and tilt your head toward the door. You mouth the word, answer? 

He considers for a moment and then nods. Well, he’s the one able to hear their approach. You trust they’re at least not imminent danger. You pull the door open. A breeze of frost comes rushing in as you do, blowing your hair and as jarring as a hit to the face might be. You’ve been cooped up in here for so long you’ve forgotten how bitter the cold here is.  

Behind the door your eyes lock with a pair of inky ones, settled into a pinched and snooty face. “Letters from the palace I have for you, my lady,” she says, her voice mousy. She holds out a stack full of letters to you, all held together by some twine. 

An errand runner. You furrow your brows down at her and accept them. The little hob wrings out her long fingers. “From who?” you ask her.  

She bows her head to you hurriedly. “Oh, from the prince, my lady! He sends these for you!” 

You look down at the stack in your hands, and your heart begins to run amok in your chest. He’d sent to you? You thank her. She scurries off in the snow and you close the door, sharing a look with Beomgyu. 

“The prince?” he says, brows shot up. “Meaning, The King’s son? He’s sent letters for you?” 

Nodding, you hold the stack close to you. Your feet ache to find your quarters and to begin tearing into each one; you’re ravenous for any sort of word from him. Does he hate you? Does he miss you? At least he still thinks of you. You’d worried that he might’ve found another lady of the court to dote on in your absence... 

“Yeah,” you say over your shoulder, more interested in tearing the letters open than explaining to him why the prince would be sending you letters. Curiosity sits in his furrowed brow. You hadn’t exactly prattled on about Yeonjun to him. Had you even mentioned him at all? 

He tags along as you head to your room and plop onto your bed. You don’t tell him to leave you; opening these letters alone... You appreciate his presence in some odd way.  

Unstringing the pile, you pull the first one out and run a thumb over the wax seal that identifies it as definitely from the High Prince—a fine silver dusted over white wax and branded with the image of Yeonjun’s insignia, the fox. It’s uneven and dribbled, clearly sealed by Yeonjun himself with the insignia ring he often wears on his finger. You pry it open and then unfurl the parchment inside. 

𝒟𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝒹 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝐶𝑜𝓊𝑟𝑡? 𝑃𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑝𝓈 𝑤𝑒 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑚𝒾𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝒾𝓈 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒. 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒. 𝐼𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒𝓈 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎����𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘. 𝑀𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑟𝓈 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝓊.  

𝒯ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝓈 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛.

𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑛𝒿𝑢𝑛

Beomgyu’s gaze burns holes through you as you read this first one. You sigh, pressing your lips into a thin line as you reach for the next one. This one twists a hot knife of guilt into your belly and up into your heart. 

𝐻𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔?   

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑒��𝑎𝑙'𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝓃𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑡, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝐼 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝓇 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝓈𝑖𝑑𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠, 𝓎𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝓇 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒. 𝐼'𝑚 𝑢𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝓈 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒. 𝐴𝑙𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ, 𝑝𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑝𝓈 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝓎𝑜𝑢𝓇 𝑎𝑏𝓈𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑖𝓈𝑒.

𝐼𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝒾𝑑𝑒𝓃𝑡𝒾𝑡𝓎? 𝐼𝑠 𝒾𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝑢? 

𝐴𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝓊𝑡𝑚𝑜𝓈𝑡 𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟: 𝐼 𝒹𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡. 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑡 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝓊𝑙𝑑 𝑖𝑓 𝐼 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑. 𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝓇𝑒 𝓆𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝒶𝑟𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑒𝓇.   

𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝐼 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑟𝒾𝒹𝑖𝑐𝓊𝑙𝑜𝑢𝓈, 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔. 𝐼 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡. 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝒶𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑏𝓇𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝓇𝑡, 𝑟𝒾𝑔ℎ𝑡? 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑡. 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑢𝓈.  

𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑚𝒾𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝓎 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝑠𝑜 𝑒𝒶𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝒾𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝓈𝑡. 𝐼 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝓈, 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑖𝑡.

𝒟𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝓇 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝒾𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝓉 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝓇 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝓈 𝑚𝑒𝑡, 𝑡𝑜𝑜? 𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑜𝒹𝑑 𝑖𝑠 𝒾𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝓈𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑜 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝒾𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝓎𝑜𝑢, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝓈𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝓇 𝑏𝑒𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝓎𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝓊𝑟𝓈𝑒?

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝒶𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑒, 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝓉𝑦. 𝐼𝑓 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝑢𝓇 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒, 𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝓈𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝓉 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝑘𝒶𝑦. 

𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑛𝒿𝑢𝑛

“What do they say?” Beomgyu asks, timbred voice whipping you from the words that had settled a quaking ache in your chest.  

You’re not entirely sure how to tell him that they’re desperate letters of the High Prince’s love for you, a worthless human girl that had avoided him on purpose. He probably wouldn't believe you, anyway. Leaving behind your old life, you had pleaded with the sky to make your life something worth note. It seems that it had answered. Fate works in odd ways like that, granting your wishes in the last way you might expect.  

“A lot,” you say, brushing him off. Your voice cracks with it, though,  

Hearing the veiled emotion, he frowns, inching forward to take a peek. “Why are you upset?” he pries, and then gasps as a thought formulates in his head. “Have they called you to be tried by the council?” He considers his own suggestion for a long moment and then shakes his head. “You hardly have gone anywhere enough to cause that degree of trouble, though.”  

You let your face drop into your hands. Is the tremor in your chest from laughter, or from crying? You couldn’t say. Maybe it’s both. 

The kelpie makes an unsure sound, clearing his throat. “I... uh, I jest...” 

Collecting yourself, you say, “No. I’m not being called in for trial.”  

Dried up rose petals come fluttering out with the next letter. The flower of love. 

𝐻𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝓉 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝓇𝑡ℎ? 𝐶𝑜𝓊𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑜𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝓈𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝓈𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑡 𝓎𝑜𝑢𝓇 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝓈𝑜? 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑐, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝓎 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒𝓈𝑜𝑚𝑒. 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑤𝑒'𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒. 𝐻𝑎𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝓎𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝓈𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒?

𝐼𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝓈𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝓇𝑒𝑠𝑖𝒹𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝒾𝑠 𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒶𝑡𝑒, 𝐼 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼'𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝓊𝑟𝑒 𝒾𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦'𝑙𝑙 𝓇𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝓎𝑜𝑢, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑑𝑜, 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼'𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝓎𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔?

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝓈𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝑚𝑒. 𝐼 𝑏𝑒𝑔. 𝐿𝑒𝑡'𝑠 𝓉𝑎𝑙𝑘. 𝐼 𝑗𝑢𝓈𝑡 𝑤𝒶𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑤𝓇𝑜𝑛𝑔. 

𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑛𝒿𝑢𝑛

Why hadn’t you at least gone and told him that you’ve stayed? How had you allowed yourself to feel fear when you think of him? You don’t deserve his love. You don’t even know if you deserve love at all. All it would’ve taken was one night of slipping out. He deserved to know that you’re okay. You don’t remember being this selfish. When had it happened? Maybe selfish is what becomes of you when you’ve wasted a lifetime expected to serve others before yourself and then are granted the freedom to consider yourself first. You don’t want to be selfish, though.  

The one you pull open now is more raw. Hurt. The paper, scrawled in writing that becomes less elegant and more frenzied as you read down it, crumples in your hand. 

𝐼𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝐼'𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝒶𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑙𝓎 𝑓𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒'𝑣𝑒 𝓈ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑, 𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡. 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝓊. 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝓈𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝒶𝑟𝑚𝓈. 𝒯ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝓇 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑤𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑡.   

𝐷𝑜 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝓈𝑎𝑦 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝓇𝑒?   

𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝓊, 𝑑𝒶𝓇𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑚𝒶𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝓈𝑖𝑐𝑘  

𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑛𝒿𝑢𝑛

You stuff the letters back in their envelopes and shove them into a box in your wardrobe. If you don’t, you’ll read them over until you’re ill. Once over was enough for you. 

❆

“The Lord would have my pelt if I let you leave,” Beomgyu, crossing his arms firmly over his chest, says. “Let alone by yourself.” Realizing that his words insinuate that Taehyun holds any true power over him, he backtracks. “If it weren’t for the harness, I’d be unconcerned with his anger, but... Of course, you know, I’m obligated by my imposition to his word, so...” 

Tugging your boots on, you say, “So, tell him I commanded you to stay. You’ll be fine.”  

You had waited for Taehyun to leave for Court, anyway. You have hours of the night to sly-foot your way around him. 

You’d moped around for a few more days, your gut heavy with stones each time you remember Yeonjun’s letters. Stuffing them into a box, no matter how deep into the corner of your wardrobe, still could not wipe those words from your mind. You’d turned them over and over until you couldn’t handle imagining him writing those letters with a hopeful heart any longer.  

The solstice is only a few days away now, too. You’d been bound to the estate for weeks. Although you’re unsure what Taehyun’s real intentions are in boarding you in, you can no longer even care if leaving will end up getting you attacked. You’ve become a bird with clipped wings.  

Even if your wings are out of order, you’ll walk your way to your freedom. Hell, you’d crawl there. It just so happens that Yeonjun’s doorway feels like freedom in this moment.  

Like he’d always said, the doors remain unbarred. You don’t even have to use the metal knocker; you just push through the doors of swirling white engravements. Just as if nothing had changed. He’d been waiting for you. 

Instead of Yeonjun in his quarters, you find a brownie diligently working on doing up Yeonjun’s bedding. When she turns to you, her hands continue their efforts. 

“The prince is not here right now, dear,” she says, snout twitching. Round eyes recognize you before you can introduce yourself. “He’s only just made for Court, though. You should catch him quite quickly, if you mean to.” 

It seems he hasn’t given up searching for you in Court, either. You offer her your gratitude and slip out from his room. Picking up the hems of your dress, you race to catch Yeonjun before he’s arrived at Court. Once he does, things get more sticky—if Taehyun spots you... Pushing down the anxiety that bubbles up at the thought, you cross your fingers. Let luck be on your side.  

Your Court dress, though heavy, feels nice on your skin. Although you often look down on court goers for their pompousness, you can’t deny how good it feels to fit in. That’s perhaps the reason you cling to Court the way you do; you’re beyond desperate for belonging. 

On the plush, snow-dusted bits of the forest’s floor, you spot a set of footsteps. They’re quickly being filled with the flurries. You clasp your hands in an overwhelming bout of gratitude—luck had listened, this time. Those tracks are as fresh as can be. You double your pace. 

Around a bend, you’re overjoyed to see his figure walking there. Finally hearing you coming over the roar of snowfall, he spins. His face pinches and then drops as he recognizes you. 

“You... You came?” he says. Disbelief flips his lips into a frown. “You got my letters?” 

“I did,” you answer, catching your breath. “I’m so sorry.” 

A few feet float between you, the space not yet closed but so magnetic. His cheeks are tinged pink with the cold. Yours must be too.  

“I’d thought you left. I thought I’d never see you again.” 

Your chest caves in a little at the hurt in his voice and the way it clashes with the longing in his eyes. He wants to be angry; he wants to yell at you. He can’t do either when he’s just thankful to see your face. You had missed his just as much. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. “It shouldn’t have happened.” 

Yeonjun approaches you and takes your face into his hands. His fingers are ice on your skin. He swallows in your face, soft black eyes darting from your eyes to your lips and around the rest of it; just like he’d begged you to let him do in his letters. 

“Why?” Yeonjun asks you, brushing your hair back with his fingers like he’s just testing the feel of it. 

You don’t know how to answer him. You could tell him a lot of things: Taehyun told me to stay away. He had told me that you’d hurt me. I’d started to believe him. I became scared of you. We had lied to each other. None of them feel adequate in this moment, so you shake your head. 

His eyes harden to a degree as you don’t answer. “Why wouldn’t you come talk to me, pretty?” he urges. “If something was wrong, why couldn’t you come to me? We can’t leave things broken. I sent you weeks of letters. Weeks.” 

Weeks? You’d only seen four.  

“Finally, I got smart enough to send them when he’s at Court. And then you show up here. Tell me, how am I to think that you’re okay? When he won’t even let you speak with me?” 

You blink once. Twice. Taehyun had been intercepting letters. A pit of anger flares in your belly. Whatever this protecting thing he’s doing really is, you’re sick of it. Since when had he become your keeper? He’d demanded that Yeonjun was trying to do just that, but here he is, and you have no clue why he’s doing it. 

“I didn’t know you’d sent letters until yesterday,” you tell him. “I should’ve come and seen you.” 

Running his thumb over your cheek, he murmurs, “You’re not going back there. Please, tell me you’ll stay with me. If you’re to stay here in the north forever, let it be with me. We can’t slip around like this forever.” 

Shaking your head in his hands, you pull back. You can’t decipher the dread that washes over you at his suggestion once again. Your heart is wary with the need to do just that—to not return to the estate where you’d become some sort of prisoner. Something washes over you and tells you that it won’t go the way you’d wanted, just as most things in your life hadn’t. 

Seeing the way you retract, Yeonjun becomes more desperate. “Please,” he says, hands finding your shoulders to hold you as if you’ll leave him there.  

“We’ll figure it out,” you say. “Just give me a few days to think about it, okay?” 

His face stays drawn as if he wants to argue it, but he relents. Taking your frozen hands into his own and wrapping them up in attempts to warm them, he says, “Okay. Okay, let’s get away from this blizzard, then. I’ll wait for you, love.” 

Your chest sizzles. The cold isn’t so bad, today. In a way, you’d missed it. You nod.  

Yeonjun brings you to his chambers and urges you to settle into a plush seat. You run your hands over the embroidered whorls of thread on the cushions as you watch him rummage through a chest. “What are you looking for?” you ask him, drinking in his figure. He’d switched his Court shirts for some more comfortable wear, but even in those he looks princely. He’s so pretty. Your heart flutters as he fishes out what he’d been searching for and turns to you with a smile. He settles beside you carrying a leatherbound book and a miniature wood sculpture of a girl. 

“These,” he says, setting them down on the cushion between you.  

You pick up the wood thing, looking over its painted pink cheeks and feeling the carvings that make its face. It’s fitted with a dress; one unlike any you’d ever seen. Your brow furrows. “What’s this thing?” you ask. 

“It’s called a doll,” he says explains. You feel his eyes on you, watching your reaction, not on the thing in your hands. “Human girls carry them around to play with. They change the dresses and stuff. They even make things for them to hold, but... I couldn’t get ahold of any of those.”  

Heart stuttering, you look at the wood-carved thing. “Human girls?” you ask, imagining a life where you too could have worried only about what dress your toy would wear. You revere the resilience your younger self had to have. At least you didn’t know any better; you didn’t know how you could’ve had it. That ignorance saved you. The painted eyes of the doll stare back at you. 

“Kinda cute, huh?” he says, smiling and scooting closer to fiddle with the thing’s hair. “They even do their hair up all pretty.” Looking back up to you, he says, “It’s a shame that no human who has ever grown up here knows of things like these. Simple joys.” 

You nod, a little choked up. “Yeah. I wish I had. It would have been nice to have something like this as a girl.”  

He tucks some hair behind your ear to get a better look at your face from the side. “How did you ever end up being a spy?” 

Tearing your gaze from the doll to meet his, you find a sadness there despite you not even having told him yet. It’s as if he knows it’ll hurt him already. You fiddle with the little doll’s dress as you recount. “I was a servant to a seamstress,” you start. “A royal seamstress, too. She was favored well by the gentry. She brought in hordes of clients and made dresses and Court clothes for them—but, really, her work mostly ended at being there to hear what they’d want and inlaying the dresses with her magic when they’d ask for it. The rest was my work. Taking their measurements, making their dresses... I worked her shop as soon as I became able to.” Memories of cruel and wicked faces that snickered at your expense or those who found it entertainment to scare you come back, as fresh as ever. Those memories never leave you; the ones so early on that they’d calcified into permanent parts of your personality. That terrified little girl will always be somewhere in your mind. She surfaces quite a lot, these days.  

“There was this one time...” you say, trailing off to trudge up a more awful memory. “A Lady had come in to have a dress made. She brought a guard along with her. He was this massive troll with grey skin like a toad.” You’d recall his details without any trouble for the rest of your life, you think. “I’d ran off to grab some fabric for the Lady, and he followed,” you say, voice wavering just how your little heart had wavered as you had turned around from the bolts of fabric to see the goblin stood there. “He yanked me around by my hair until I sobbed, and then he had me get on the floor and beg him to let me live.” You know now that of course he wasn’t going to kill you—he wouldn’t want problems with Nut-hatch—but you hadn’t known it then. You thought you were dead. “When he had enough of his fun, he let me go. When the other two saw how hysterical I was, all I got was being asked why I’d left them waiting so long.”  

Yeonjun asks, voice soft and tender, “The seamstress allowed that?” His eyes are heavy with a mixture of emotions. You see sadness and anger there, but also something a bit more. 

“Nut-hatch?” you say. “Of course.” They’d known what he was doing in there, of course. Even a human could have heard it. As long as you served your purpose, the folk could not care less. 

He looks taken aback at that, recognition turning his brows up. “Nut-hatch? You worked for Nut-hatch?” he asks. 

Nodding, you hum. You had no doubt he’d know her name. Her work was well-renowned in his father’s court and beyond. “I did.” 

His eyes rake over you for a long few beats before he turns your face up. “Their names?” he asks. 

“Huh?” 

“The goblin and the Lady. What are their names?” 

You try to tug at the threads of that old memory. “I don’t remember,” you say. Much of it is fresh, but you hadn’t committed their names to memory. Inconsequential in the grand scheme of it. “It’s okay. It’s passed now.” 

He doesn’t look very convinced, mind wheeling behind his eyes. You don’t want to stay on this memory for too long. Pushing it back into the dusty corner where it stays, you continue explaining. “I accepted that as my life for a long time, but... At some point, I just wanted more. I imagined all the ways I could find a new life as a human here. There are so many other things I’d preferred, but the only one I could manage was that. Even that, I was wrong about. I’m not really made for that, you know?” You lighten your tone in hopes that it’ll make your chest feel lighter as well.  

He listens intently and then leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. Pulling you into his chest and keeping you notched under his chin, he says, his voice smooth to your ears, “I’m so happy you’re here now, pretty.” 

Letting out the weight in your lungs in a long, meaningful sigh, you melt into his touch. It’s difficult not to when his body is so warm against yours. You revel in it for some time, just letting him smooth over your hair and rub your back. You try your best not to let any old, sad emotions pour out through your eyes; this is a happy moment. You’ve made it. Perhaps things had been harder than you imagined they’d be, but you knew it’d be a long journey when you escaped that sewing cottage anyway. 

Peppering a few last kisses to the top of your head, he releases you to pick up the book he had also grabbed from that chest. On the front it reads: Pride & Prejudice.  

“A book?” you say, looking over the brown leather and gold printing. It’s an unfamiliar name to you, but you never read much anyway.  

He nods and pries it open. The spine crackles with age. “It’s also from the human world.” Thumbing through the pages, he adds, “It’s a story. I read it often, it’s quite a nice one. I want to give it to you so that you can read it too; it’s a beautiful love story.” 

You lean in to take a look at the words, too perfect to be handwritten. “Where do you get all this stuff?” you say. It reminds you of he’d brought you to that market for human goods. He seems to be interested in things that are human. Perhaps that includes you. Either that or he continues to show you these kinds of things for your sake. 

“I lived in their world for some years,” he says, flipping through the pages. “It’s quite different. Though... I found myself not wanting to leave. When the time came, I brought these back with me to remind me of that time.” 

Lived? Not just visited, but Yeonjun had lived in the human realm? Your heart flurries with a lifetime of wondering what your true home was like. How ironic is it that he knew more of humans than you? That you’re the one asking him questions about your kind? “How long?” you ask first. “And why were you living there?” 

“Just for something my father wanted me to do,” he answers, “Somewhere around a decade, I believe.” 

He’d spent ten years there. Multiple things click into place—no wonder he’s so able to understand your human emotions. No wonder it feels as though you’ve been seen to a different degree by him than you’d ever known before. He’d spent years with your kind. “What is it like?” you say, not sure where to begin with your questions. 

He smiles fondly. “You wouldn’t even be able to believe me, pretty. You’ll just have to see it.” 

See it. “You’d take me there?” you say.  

“Of course,” Yeonjun says, frowning. He takes one of your hands into his, pressing a kiss to it. “You deserve to see it.” He presses another kiss to your skin, now at your wrist. The hair on your skin raises at the contact. His eyes find yours as he begins a slow ascent of kisses up your arm. Each is warm and sends your spine blazing. Once he reaches your shoulder, he slows down, leaving a long moment between kisses. He continues this pace—one that both makes you wish he’d slow down and that he’d hurry and quell your want—right up the juncture of your neck and up the column, too. His controlled breaths puff out like fire on your skin where his mouth lingers. You let your head back to help his path up. He places one final kiss at your jawline before his lips land on yours, drunken and in no rush at all.  

You can’t help the visceral urge to run your hands over his soft skin, to check if the warmth there was real or if you’d manifested it in your longing. Yeonjun breaks this lethargic kiss just to laugh, but he’s quick to recapture your lips. He meets your hand and brings it under his silken shirt, guiding you up the soft planes of his abdomen. 

Pushing you back, he whispers into your mouth, “I missed you so much, pretty.” 

You rememorize the gentle muscles of his stomach beneath your palm. “It was only so many days,” you tease, “you’re just horny.” 

He lets go of your hand to begin slipping down your dress from the shoulders. “Yeah?” he hums, gobbling up each inch of skin that he reveals. “I suppose I am. It’s a gift to be able to love you in this way.” Once the fabric is clear of your hips and he’s tugging it down your legs, his face turns sly. He studies your wettened core. “I think you missed me too, though, love.” 

You drag your bottom lip into your teeth. You had. Your chest thumps rhythmically in your chest, syncing like symphony with the throb between your thighs. 

Blood sings in your veins when he places his palm right on the boundary between your lower belly and your cunt. Your stomach soars, too, so excited by his touch so near where your body craves it. He runs it up, feeling the curves of your body, up to your breast. You expect him to stop and pay attention to your chest, but he presses his hand down right over your heart and feels its beating against his palm. His eyes flutter to a shut, and he leaves his hand there for a few moments, relishing in it.  

“What other purer form of love can I show you?” he says, tapping on your hip. “On your hands and knees, baby.” 

You flip, your limbs a bit clumsy in anticipation. Once you’ve found your way there, he dances his fingertips on the small of your spine. 

“Did you think of my touches while we were apart?” 

“Mhm,” you hum. Especially on the nights when the estate seemed the emptiest. Some nights, your fingers were just not enough to save you, and you’d contemplate making a big escape to find him.  

“Well, I shouldn’t make you wait too much longer then, huh?” he coos, running that hand down to ghost touches over your slit. Though minimal, you jolt. You’d been so ravenous for this. He’d worked his shirt off so that when he leans forward to meld his chest to your back, it’s his skin that touches yours, not fabric. His hand stays ghosting touches that leave you softly gasping. 

He teasingly pinches your clit, laughing in your hair at the sharp hiss it draws from you. “So reactive,” Yeonjun muses. His fingers find their way to your hole. He dips the middle two in. “Just like the first time we made love like this. Your lovely face is burned into my mind, pretty. You have such hungry eyes.” As he pushes his fingers in, he uses his free hand to tilt your face against the cushion so that he can better see your eyes. 

You sigh, shuddering and breathy, as he begins to curl his fingers. It only takes him a few curls to rediscover that spot that has sparks flying behind your eyes. 

“There?” he asks, chin on your shoulder. “That feel good, darling?” 

Your muscles tremble at their own accord, rendering your huffs trembled as well. “Yes,” you answer. Each meaningful curl hits its mark, knees unsteady pillars that dig into the cushions. “So—so good. Please don’t stop.”  

He maintains a sickening pace—your muscles twitch around his giving fingers, just enough so that your entire body buzzes and your stomach twists, but not enough to send you shaking yet. You collapse down from your elbows, chest in the cushions. He brushes back the hair that obscures your face with the movement, adamant to see your face.  

He eggs you on by curling deeper; faster. Your answering groan is shaky and tense—you can’t get enough of the knot he curates in your belly, but at the same time, it’s daunting. He sits back, but his fingers don’t falter. His free hand explores, feeling your body up for all the time he couldn’t.  

Stomach taut and brimming on your peak, you suck in a breath. Your orgasm sits so close, running a line of electricity from between your legs up to your spine, raising goosebumps on your skin.  

Your eyes fly open, mouth ready to scold, as Yeonjun pulls his fingers from you. Your chest bubbles up with frustration, your orgasm drifting off to somewhere else. “Why?” you ask, cheeks burning. It slips and slips away from you, hole twitching around nothing as if seeking out just enough stimulus to bring it crashing back. “I was so close.” 

His hand soothes the loss ever so slightly by circling your cunt, but he does not make the mistake of offering you any touch where you most need it. It only prolongs the float down, keeping you suspended. You abhor it.  

“Please,” you whine. 

He doesn’t entertain your whines. He only continues to deliver just enough to torment you until he’s sure that you’re not so wound up that you’ll cum the moment he touches you, and then he slides his fingers back in and begins building up a more tense knot with pointed curls. Your insides delight in the return of attention, falling almost instantly back into a brutal climb. Yeonjun doesn’t bother with languid, teasing strokes now. He aims for your ruining. 

You writhe against the cushions. Your heart is a fluttering bird in your chest, trilling at the prospect of your release. It’s so close—so close that you might be able to just touch it. It tastes like honey on your tongue, painting your words sweet. “Love you,” you tell him. “Love you so much.” 

Yeonjun rewards your sweetness with his free hand on your throbbing clit, sending your hands gripping at the cushions. You wiggle your hips helplessly in search of just the right amount of friction that it’ll finally give you want you’ve been wanting. “Yes,” you mewl. “Yes, so close—” 

“Wait, baby,” he commands from behind you. “It’ll feel so much better. I promise. Hold it back.” 

He reins in his touches once again, not stopping like last time. It’s not enough to put a stop to the orgasm rippling right under your skin, right at the edge of ripping through you. You can’t hold it back; it’s right there. 

“No,” he says, once again ripping his touch from you. It doesn’t stop anything—you go rigid just before it crashes over you, and then you’re shaking without his hands even on you. You cum with a vengeance—body reclaiming twofold what he had denied you.  

“Holy shit.” Yeonjun groans watching you come unraveled without his help. “So riled up that you’re cumming by yourself, pretty,” he says, running a hand around to feel your belly muscles twitching and the way they roll along with the twitches of your hips. He eggs on your orgasm with gentle touches at your clit, sending you jolting, until you’re a panting mess and he can tell that you’ve had enough. 

You attempt to push yourself off your chest, but he gently guides you back down with a palm against your back. “Stay there, pretty. You can handle a little more, right? You did so well, I know you can. Let me make love to you, darling.” 

The cushions are awfully warm against your skin and you’re still dealing with the waves of pleasure that drift up from your cunt, but you nod your head for him. “’Kay,” you say. 

The rustling behind you tells of how he’s slipping out of the rest of his attire. You lay boneless as he does, focusing on the waves running down your thighs. It’s ecstasy in its purest form. It floats through your veins, addling any consciousness and breaking you down into what you are at your core. 

The familiar prod at your entrance jolts you back to life. As he presses in, he presses a hand to your flushed cheek. It’s a welcome temperature difference—you feel set ablaze in some sort of languid flame, one that takes its time to consume you. He laughs softly. “You’re burning up,” he says as he bottoms out, as if the feeling of him filling you up isn’t rendering you jittery in anticipation. “Ready for me, pretty?” he teases, taking your hips into his hands. “I need you to make those pretty sounds for me. I want to know that they’re just as sweet as I remember them.” He punctuates his sentence with deep rolls of his hips, aiming where he knows will have you singing. 

You’re helpless to the chorus of ‘Oh's and ‘Yes’s that he draws from you, the smacking of his hips and your sweet moans much too loud for you. You dread the thought of his servants hearing you and push your face into the cushions, muffling the array of sounds that bubble over. It’s all you can do—you could hardly contain your sounds. 

Your scalp strains as he tugs your head back, tugging your face from the cushion. “None of that, love. I waited too long for that. Don’t hide your pretty voice.”  

You shake your head. “Too loud,” you pant. “They’re gonna hear.” 

“I don’t care who hears you. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel, or I’m going to stop. Do you want me to stop?” His fingers cling to your soft hips, betraying how much this is affecting him. You know that he hardly wants to stop. 

You’re turned to mush, though. In this moment, being heard feels nowhere near as awful as Yeonjun ceasing those dizzying thrusts. You shake your head, scalp aching against the movement. “No,” you say, breathless.  

“That’s what I thought,” Yeonjun taunts, letting your cheek drop back into the fabric. “Let them hear our love. Let them hear how real it is, darling. Louder.”  

You tentatively let your sounds out into the thick air, but he decides that it’s not enough for him. Taking his hand off your hip to brace himself on the seat’s plush armrest, he doubles down his thrusts, feverish and desperate to guide you both to a beautifully explosive end. Your mouth drops open, unfiltered words and sounds spilling out from your chest as you grab at the cushions for help. With the hand that he doesn’t use to deliver those wild thrusts, he encases your hand in his own, threading his fingers between yours.  

For a few more incandescent moments, Yeonjun’s room only consists of your unabashed cries, his alternating grunts and whines, the rhythmic and hollow smacks of his hips to your skin, and the musk of your passion. Frantic bodies dance against each other, skin against skin in the purest way. Your thighs tremble pathetically, his cock brushing against your sweet spot until you squeeze your eyes shut and ride out the quivering of your cunt around him. You squeeze his hand as you shake. 

“Yes,” his pretty voice whines, “Just like that.”  

Picking up his pace, he chases to join you in your orgasm. He pants behind you, desperately fucking into you until his hips stutter and he stills, falling into your shoulder to deliver needy rolls and shooting warm spurts of his release into you.  

You two stay like this for some unhurried moments. You focus on his heartbeat; feeling it thudding against your back reminds you that he is real, and he is love. You hold his hand in yours a little tighter. 

❆

“I doubt that this will go exactly as you believe it will,” Beomgyu says, watching you do your hair up. Your eyes meet his in the vanity’s mirror.  

Arms burning as your hold them over your head, your words come out clipped with the ache. “It worked yesterday, didn’t it?” you say. You push a filigree comb into your hair to secure it up. “I got back hours before he did.” 

“I’m not saying that Taehyun is right,” he says, “but I think that it would do us both a favor if you practice a bit more precaution.” 

“What, are you afraid of Taehyun?” you ask, raising your brows at him in the reflection.  

Your taunt hits its mark, Beomgyu shifting in your bed and scowling. “Of Taehyun, never,” he parries, “of the fact that he could ask me to do anything and I’d do it, yes.” He shakes out his lightly matted tresses, a habit you’ve noticed over the passing weeks. “I played a little too closely to the fire with him once, and it landed me like this: no longer the owner of my being. I’d sooner chew off my own fingers than become his obedient dog, but I believe you also know that it’s best to soar low with this, no? Are we not together in this?” 

You press your lips into a thin line. In a way, you’d come to an alliance of sorts with Beomgyu. Despite his being a kelpie, the two of you are not so different now. Both confined to these walls, listening to Taehyun when he commands it. You don’t want any of your actions to snap back on Beomgyu, though. With you attending Court today, it’s almost definite that Taehyun will see you. You turn to face him. “Why don’t you join us, then?” you offer. “I’ll tell him myself that I commanded you to come with me. I’m sure he’ll be less upset if I have you there with me.” 

He gives it a thought, his eyes looking as tired and sunken as they always do. “I’m not one for Court,” he says. 

“But I’ll be there,” you plead, unable to help the twitching of smirk on your lips. “If we do it together, it can’t be so bad.” 

He frowns, but you can see that you’ve won. “I grieve for how the forest left me to my own,” Beomgyu grumbles. 

You surge up from your seat, eyes bright. “You’ll go?” you say, giddy to return to the thrill of faerie revelry and also to see the strange kelpie in the center of it. 

Grimacing, he answers, “I will join you.” 

You take his hands into yours and press a cheeky kiss to his forehead. “You’re not so scary as you try to paint yourself,” you tell him, watching as he catches bait. You laugh as he glowers. 

“Don’t push it.” He climbs off your bed. “I’m scarier than you should imagine, girl. I do this for my own reasons.” 

You pull a patronizing frown and nod. “Of course, I know.” 

You don’t have to wait for him to get ready to any capacity; he tells you that he has no intentions of making any impressions, and you’ve seen faeries in far more drastic states of disarray. Many show up for their reveling in just their skin. 

Beomgyu drones on about how he detests the audaciousness of the gentry folk while you make for the hall. The forest around you is as quiet as you remember it being when you’d first met him. It reminds you that, no matter how used you become to him, he is a creature to be feared. The little folk are right to hide away. For you, though, his might is a relief: should Taehyun be right, you’ll be safe. He moves at your beck and call. Though, the thought of forcing the kelpie to carry out your will is an uneasy one that you do not strive to fulfill. 

Once the buzzing of Court comes into earshot, wonderful faerie music along with it, you breathe it in. “First time in... how long since you’ve shown your face here?” 

“Perhaps four-hundred-something years,” he answers, looking over the scene with as much distaste in his face as his voice. “We solitary folk don’t make ourselves known here unless to bow to a crown. I do not bow to any crown.” 

Itching to find your prince, you gesture toward it. He should be fine—Court is supposed to be an insouciant place. “Don’t they host anybody who decides to come? Faerie hospitality, and all that? You’ll be fine.” 

“It’s all hospitality until you step foot from those trees,” he says. “And even hospitality is sometimes betrayed. You know how capricious we can be, I’m sure.”  

You approach the warm lights, but his words remain with you. It beckons you to remember that their minds are fickle and fundamentally different from yours. However you think they may act, they might act in the complete opposite way. You should at least let that guide how you conduct your actions a little bit. 

As you breach the pillars of trees and are finally surrounded once again by their pinched faces and gangly limbs, you search for both Taehyun and Yeonjun. You see neither, and so you make your way to the tables to seek snacks. You scour them for something sweet to chew over as you wait for him to appear. He’d said he’d be coming around this time, right? You surely hadn’t mistaken the time he’d told you? 

Beomgyu speaks from beside you, observing a hag that loiters nearby. “Is he not here?” he asks. 

Shrugging, you say, “He’ll be here soon.”  

You watch the hag inching closer, bent over with age; though, you assume that’s she’s been old for the entirety of her life. Her pointed ears droop from her thin tresses of silver, cuffed with gold.  

Turning from her, you gesture over the cavorting crowds, more frantically chasing their merriments than ever before. The solstice arrives tomorrow; they welcome its presence with their excitement. “This is all for the solstice?” 

He offers you an affirmative nod. “Just some excuse to entertain themselves like this,” he explains, “the solstice will arrive whether they encourage its coming or not. I believe that they just enjoy this debauchery too much.” His hollow eyes rake over the throngs. “Anyway, many of them are just here because it’s the only time that they’ll see Court. Otherwise, only the gentry gather here.” 

“What makes you any different than them?” you ask. “What makes you so averse to offering your allegiance to the High Courts? Would it not be nice to have their protection, and to keep them off your back?” You seek Yeonjun once more in the crowds, but still, he doesn’t appear. “You know, so they don’t call you in for things like eating too much?” 

“I do not surrender my sovereignty to any. Come they to my doorstep and demand that I do, I could not care. I’m content with the way I make my life.”  

His refusal to do just that must be why Taehyun’s father had come to claim his life. You’re sure that it’s also why the coming of the General’s son to steal his autonomy must’ve made him so angry. You don’t blame him.  

Why would The Queen demand fealty from the solitary folk? You’d thought that, like the High King, she’d leave them to their forests. If they’re all as adamant as Beomgyu, it seems like a lost cause. 

“Well,” you say, “I’m glad that—” 

A gnarled hand, fingers knobbed against your skin and skin about as soft as tree bark, tugs your arm. You spin to find who owns it.  

The hag’s eyes remind you of Beomgyu’s, piercing and dull with the weight of a long life. Though, hers are much more unsightly than his mud-brown ones, saggy eyelids drooping over a pair of eyes with ink-black where the whites of her eyes should be. She pulls you toward her by your skirts.  

You tug yourself back, pinching your brows. “Who are you?” 

She points her clawed, grey hand out at you, bangles of gold and chunky beads jingling as she does. “You, girl,” the hag says, urgent. Her voice is harsh and it crackles as she speaks. She reaches inside of her furry robes and produces a wood trinket from it. In her palm that she shoves at you lays a bit of wood carved into the shape of a wolf, painted in black. Its shaggy black fur reminds you of the kind Taehyun would sometimes wear over his shoulder.  

“I don’t need that,” you say, rejecting her hand. Nothing in faerie comes for free—the hag just sees a human girl that she can offer free things to in hopes that you’ll know no better and take. Then, you’d be in her debt, and she’d demand something from you. You do know better, though. 

“Oh,” she says, shaking her head as she draws out the word. “You do, girl. Take it, take it. You need it, I know it. Take it, I won’t hold it to you, girl, just have it.” Razor teeth appear behind her curled lips. “It is dormant with me. But, in your hands... Take it.” She shakes her jousted hand out at you each time she demands that you take it. “It offers you protection. It would do no good in my possession. It beckons me to give it to you, its pleas are so loud—loud, loud, loud! Take it off my hand, won’t you?” 

Her urging unsettles you, but so do her words. You assume that it’s inlaid with some sort of protective enchantment. Why would you need protection? Although, she could also just be fooling you. She could be holding a perfectly plain hunk of carved wood in her palm for all you know. You shoot a look at Beomgyu. If she were any trouble, he’d tell you. 

He looks about as lost as you do, shrugging. 

“Oh, sakes!” the hag grumbles, clutching her robes to her body. She takes Beomgyu’s hands and places the thing there. “There. I have no reasons to be here fooling humans. Useless debts, what could you give me? Nothing I need.” She points a sturdy, twiggy finger at you. “Keep it on you, girl, else it won’t do its work.” 

With those final ill-boding words, the hag hobbles off, her curved back disappearing between the gaps in the crowd. 

“Here,” Beomgyu says, regarding the trinket with his observation. “That hag really wanted this to be yours, so I think it ought to be in your hands.” He tries pushing it off to you. 

Laughing, you don’t reach out to take it, darting his hand with your whole body. You hang your hands in the air. “I’m not taking that thing,” you say. “She handed it to you, so I really think it ought to be in your hands.” 

He deadpans. “I’ve just been collecting myself a heap of debts, haven’t I?” He closes it into his fist for his lack of pockets. “What’s this one to add?” 

“Does it... feel like it has anything bad on it?” you ask, remembering how he’d identified your geas. “Like a curse, or a bad enchantment, or something?” 

Shaking his head, he says, “No. I feel it does have a protective purpose, but the magic there is... odd. Hard for me to decipher. Probably that hag’s.”  

You purse your lips, nodding. Regardless, whatever protection that thing might have offered you, you’ll be fine without it. 

Shaking off the odd interaction, you resume perusing the snack platters in your wait. You skip over glazed pinecones. Those would be terrible on your human stomach and teeth. You can only imagine how they’d jab at your gums. You opt for a helping of braised fiddlehead ferns. Chewing on the furled thing, you entertain yourself with the revelers. Littler folk dart in and out of legs. Long-limbed gentryfolk with flowers in their hair spin with interlocked hands at the center of the clamor. Sharp-eyed faeries with even sharper mouths speak in clusters, no doubt scheming. In all its oddness, you’d missed it.  

 A silk-smooth voice steals your attention. “A kelpie?” Yeonjun says, regarding Beomgyu beside you. “Now, how did you manage to befriend a kelpie? Even better, how did you drag it here?” 

Your chest lights up. “Long story,” you say, brushing his curiosity off. “What took you so long?”  

He’s dressed in his Courtly best—cuffs made of ruffle and an array of rings decorating his fingers. They catch light as he brings his hand up to run a hand along the expanse of your collarbone. He hesitates to answer for a split second. “I ran into Kai on my way,” he explains. “He’s performing here today and for tomorrow's solstice.” 

Accepting his answer, you go to tell Beomgyu that you’re going off, but he’s not even there as you turn. He must’ve wandered off as Yeonjun had arrived. 

“Want to join them?” he asks, tilting his head toward the dancing bodies. Soft black strands drift over his eyes.  

Shaking your head, you offer him some of the sweets you’d been eyeing, knowing that he’s got a knack for sweets. “Not today. I think I want to remember all of tonight, and, well...” Memories of the way you’d danced uncontrollably until it’d fade to black lick at your mind. You want to revel in your return to normalcy fully, not with a buzzing mind. You can’t deny the allure of that tingling in your bones as you hear the faerie music, though. It curls a wild finger at you, beckoning. 

An uncomfortable look passes through his eyes, gone as fast as it had come. “All right, darling,” he hums, accepting the sweets. “Does the Lord know you’re here?” 

Lips tugging into a faint frown, you say, “Not yet, I think.” The quick expression doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Unlike the ice the Taehyun offers you, Yeonjun wears his feelings all over himself. It’s just one way that they are fundamentally different. “Is something wrong?” 

Yeonjun looks taken aback at your asking. “I’m doing just fine,” he says. “Why do you ask?” 

He does not say nothing wrong. You know it is because he cannot lie. You look him over. What had happened? And, why is he averse to telling you the truth? “Just thought you looked a bit upset.” You shrug. “Did you want to dance?” 

His nose crinkles with a laugh. “No, pretty. I’d be in your presence doing nothing and still be content.” He takes your hands into his, the metal on his fingers biting cold against your skin. “How about we go listen to Kai play?” 

He leads you to where the musicians work at concocting their works, claiming a chalice of some drink from a table on the way. Kai, of course, stands away from the rest, back to a tree while his fingers dance on the strings. You look around for Taehyun from here, but still, you don’t see his face. 

Yeonjun holds the chalice’s neck between his middle two fingers, sipping from it. “It’s nice to know that even as this season ends, I won’t be forced to go back there.” 

His pretty lips wrap over the edge of the chalice as he drinks from it. “Won’t your father know something is up when you don’t return?” 

Nodding slowly, he grimaces. “I suppose that time has finally come.” 

You squeeze his hand in yours. “We both sacrificed things to be here, huh?” you say. You don’t know a lot of what Yeonjun’s life back in his home court was like, but you know that it would be hard to revolt against your own family for anybody. Even for the prince of Faerie. 

He captures your eyes, his soft brown ones making crescents with his gentle smile. “We did,” he muses. 

“Remember our first night in Court?” you say. You’d been so uneasy, searching for a place to fit in. Then, from the crowds of overwhelming faces, he’d appeared, all charm and welcoming smiles. How couldn’t you have let your heart fall? 

Another flash of disconcertment, his smile faltering. He hides it behind another sip of his drink. Swallowing, he nods, laughing off-kilter. “I do. I think watching you dance that time was the best thing I’ve ever seen.” 

Odd, but you don’t push the issue. If he says that he’s fine, it must just be something to little effect. “What made you come up to me that night?” you say, remembering how confused you’d been when such a pretty gentry boy had taken interest in you. You’d agonized over why he’d done so for long, and sometimes you still, but you’ve made some peace with it by now.  

His lips are tight. “I... It’s hard to explain.” 

You accept that answer at face-value and let your head fall into his shoulder while you watch Kai dutifully work at his songmaking. Among those making the music for Court, his contributions stand out as the most enthralling. Faerie music is too elusive for you to decipher why, but perhaps it’s just his lazed passion. “I understand,” you say. His shoulder is tight and less cushy than you expect it to be. Looking up to him, you frown to see how he’s looking down at you, eyes stormy. He looks like he’s sick to his stomach. You go to ask if he’s going to be okay, but he speaks before you can. 

“Pretty, I... I have to tell you something.” He pulls you off of him to look into your eyes. He’s always been so steadfast and sure, but now his gaze wavers. “I’m so sorry.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you. “What?” you say, a tingle in your spine telling you that something isn’t right; that you’re not going to like what he’s going to say. “Yeonjun, you’re making me nervous. Is something wrong?” 

You know it’s awful and you’re not sure why you do it, but for a split second, you inspect the hall for possible attackers. A terrible bout of potent adrenaline makes you want to run or cry. Beomgyu is here, right? 

He swallows hard, face a ghostly pallor. “I can’t keep doing this,” he says, voice trembling. “I need to tell you the truth, it’s... it’s been eating me alive. I can’t look into your sweet face and know...” 

Acid climbs up your throat. Your heart joins it, thick in your throat and choking you. “What? Know what Yeonjun?” you ask, lips trembling. Your skin prickles, hair raising. You may throw up. He looks stricken in place, not answering you. “What?” you demand. 

“I didn’t come up to you for no reason that day.” 

Your heart, still caught in your throat, bursts. It’s a horrifying, bloody affair. “No,” you say, shaking your head. You feel so removed from your body that you can almost envision how your blood-drained face might match his. 

“I knew that you were the spies the moment I saw you. It was....” He sucks in a breath. Your world spins around you as you wait. “I was supposed to determine who the spies were. I was supposed to have them killed, but pretty, I knew I couldn’t do that the moment I saw you. I thought it was just going to be some... some random faerie that I’d...” 

If your world was spinning before, it’s now flipped upside down and inverted. “No,” you repeat, a guttural plea that you know won’t change anything. It’s the only word that your mouth will make for right now, though. 

You’re hurt. You’re scared. You’re angry. You’re frozen. 

Yeonjun grabs for your hands, but you rip yourself away from him, your glaring eyes so at odds with your wobbling lips. “It doesn’t change anything,” he says. “It doesn’t change how I love you now. You know I love you. You know I love you, right? I’m so sorry. I would never hurt you. I did my best to protect you. Please, I never wanted to hurt you,” he rambles, frantically grabbing for your arms as he falls down to his knees before you. 

A few faeries around you gasp, and a blur of their commotion forms around you. The crowned prince of Faerie just went to his knees. Your eyes dart wildly around their guffawing faces, and between a space you spot a familiar face: cold eyes and a cracked mask of indifference. He looks right at you. 

What on earth is going on? How is this life right now? You snap back to Yeonjun in front of you. 

“Please, don’t look at me like that, pretty,” he pleads. “Please.” His voice cracks, eyes frantic. “Slap me. Tell me you hate me for it. But please, don’t look at me like you’re scared of me.” 

Tears scald your cheeks. 

“I know that it’s selfish of me to ask you that; I know, I know it—but please, I can’t handle it, love. I was never going to let anything happen to you, I knew it the moment I saw you. I felt it right here”—he gestures to his beating heart, the one your hand had felt and cherished so only last night—“I knew that no matter how big my ambitions were, they would never be bigger than that.” 

You can’t listen to any more. His words pour out onto your skin, but they all slip off like rain upon a beast’s winter pelt. None can penetrate the ringing in your ears. 

Yeonjun sees how retracted you’ve become. “Pretty, please,” he says, slower and more dire now. “Say something." 

You don’t know what to do. Your feet are rooted fast to the ground, but you know that you have to leave, or else you’ll start creating excuses for him. You know yourself too well to let that happen. 

Picking up your skirts, you manage only a few words to part him with. “Though your kind can’t lie,” you say, “you have been the biggest liar I have ever known. You said you loved me.” 

“I do,” he says, shaking his head, eyes twinkling. “I do.” 

Maybe love is a different thing to a faerie. 

You take off. He calls for you, but it’s muffled by the restlessness of the folk around you and the still-playing music. You dart between openings and bounce off bodies, lights and angry faces a blur in your frenzy. Most folk don’t spare you even a glance; nothing could pull them from their merriment. But others gawk at you like you put on a performance, greedy eyes drinking in any amount of fanfare. Their eyes itch under your skin. Crossing the expanse of the hall has never felt so arduous.  

You’ve become their spectacle. 

Breaking into the cold night air, you don’t run home or collapse to your knees in a sob. You hold your dress hard in your hands, the one he’d gifted you among so many others, its fabric bunching in your fists, and stand there as if frozen staring into the tree line ahead. You don’t move and you don’t think; both would remind you that this is real and that you are a fool. You just allow the bitter air to swaddle your skin. 

You don’t even know if you doubt that he loves you. You don’t even know if he actually never intended to hurt you. Had there been times where all you’d done was look at him with starry eyes, and he’d look at you deciding whether or not to have you killed? 

Why are you even here? There is nothing left for you. Whatever simple joys you thought you’d found, they’re gone. You’re so far away from home, and you’ve nobody to call home. You’d left behind your beginnings of a purpose, and now the only purpose you serve is to rot away in Taehyun’s estate because you demanded that you stay here. 

All that time you’d spent worrying, and still, you walked yourself into this. You’re a joke. And now, you’re fully serving your purpose as one—to be laughed at.

White breaths unfurl into the night air before you, floating off to join the snowflakes and heavy fog. You just watch those fluffy flakes fall for a while. 

Snow creaks under a few footsteps behind you, someone letting you know that they’re there. “You’ve gotten awfully good at sneaking around,” Taehyun says. 

You let your head fall back, sighing slowly out through your nose. Turning to him, you spit, “I understand. You were right. I got it, okay? I don’t need you to come here and rub it in.” 

Beomgyu approaches from behind Taehyun. 

Taehyun doesn’t say anything for a bit, ice-hard eyes darting all over your face. “Take her back to the estate,” he tells Beomgyu. 

Glad to escape him, you begin your way on your own. You know that he’s only looking at your break down as pathetic. Perhaps it is, but recognizing that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Wind lapping at your wet cheeks have them stinging as you walk. 

Beomgyu awkwardly trails behind you as you follow the path that had become trodden in the time that you and Taehyun have been here, foliage and shrubbery broken down to make somewhat of a path. 

He doesn’t speak; you don’t expect him to. Instead, you break the quiet yourself, unable to stand only the sound of wind twirling between trees. “I should’ve taken that ridiculous charm thing,” you say, laughing through your tears. That hag had absolutely been able to feel what was coming with you with whatever intuition that the magic in her bones lends her. 

“But then,” Beomgyu says, “you wouldn’t know the truth.” 

That’s true. Not knowing the truth doesn’t make it untrue, but at least it spares your fragile heart. “I don’t know if I’d mind that,” you tell him. “I think I’d prefer it.” 

Ignorance is bliss, as the saying goes. 

❆

You don’t remember falling asleep. You remember climbing into your bed, dreading that you’ll be in your head all night, but to some mercy, you’d found sleep not long after that. 

You’d pulled yourself from bed, no matter how it had grown a gravitational pull and insisted that it’d hold you warm while you weep. If you hadn’t, you might not have gotten up at all. As a girl, you’d force yourself into the day’s routine when you had your worst days. It’s the only way that you live through it. You’d also made an effort to walk past your wardrobe. It carries so much of him: the lovely things he’d gifted you, his letters, and that book he’d lent you. It’s not that you don’t want any of these things; to wither away in your bed, to go through his things and wonder how someone who’d showered you so had meant to be your killer, to drag your feet... It’s that you can’t. 

You poke your needle through the fabric. On the cut of white fabric stretched inside the embroidery hoop, you’ve embroidered a dozen woven wheel stitch flowers of different colors and types. Your bottom aches against the hardwood flooring and your lower spine strains, but you don’t pay any mind to their complaining. You just continue to embroider the little flowers. Some are poppy, some rose, and some you’d made up just to have more to stitch. 

A knock resounds through the war room from the doorway. You look to see Taehyun there. He’s dressed in his Court attire. 

“You should get dressed,” he says. “It’s almost midnight. If you want to make it in time, you’ve got to get ready now.” 

Since when had he decided that you’re okay to go? It’s as if this elusive threat that’d he’d been so careful has up and disappeared. “You can go. It’ll take me too long to get ready.” 

Truth be told, you’d go sick seeing Yeonjun’s face, and you know without a doubt that you would. 

“It’s the solstice,” Taehyun says, stepping into the room. He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. 

Despite how much you had wanted to see it, your heart is too apathetic for it to be worth anything now. Returning to the same faces that had seen your demonstration and no doubt now talk of it... You’d rather finish your fifth rose. “I know.” 

He hesitates, studying you while gears turn in his head. “Hadn’t you thought that something would happen on the solstice?” he says. “Come on. It’s worth seeing how this unfolds.” 

“Why? We aren’t spies anymore. I don’t care what happens in their conflict. It’s well beyond my control as a human here.” 

He grimaces, but you don’t recognize the look there to be anger, more a rigidness. He rests his hand on his sword as he always does. “Then we’ll stay here.” 

You furrow your brows. “Huh?” 

“We can celebrate the solstice here,” he elaborates. “We don’t need to do it there. Plenty of folk celebrate on their own.” 

It dawns upon you that this is his stilted attempt at comforting you. It’s the only way he knows how. You push off the ground. You couldn’t ignore this sliver, however little, of tenderness. You’re not sure if you’d ever see it again if you did. You’ll take anything to distract your mind, as well. You can’t escape the image of Yeonjun’s eyes as he’d pleaded with you from the ground. “I’m not sure Beomgyu will join us, though. He doesn’t believe in the need to celebrate the solstices.” 

“He will if I command it,” he says.  

“What, you’re going to command the poor kelpie to sit and watch a bonfire with us?” you say, imagining how he’d brood. 

The north is wickedly cold at all times, but it’s especially so after night falls. You shuffle closer to the bonfire that Taehyun had built. It’s multitudes smaller than the bonfire you’d sat around with Yeonjun, but it’s warm enough for just the two of you. You quickly shove down those tainted memories before they sting. A lump of emotion forms in your throat before you can, though. You clear it. “Is there anything special that you’re supposed to do?” 

Feeding one last log into the flame, he watches it catch. “We started this really early,” he says. “The fire is supposed to keep you warm and represent the sun’s warmth until sunrise...” He trails off, sliding the cuffs of his shirt that he’d slid up to his elbows to tend to the fire down and sucking in an awkward breath. He looks between the fire and you as though he’d not fully thought out his offer when he’d made it. 

You face your palms to the orange flame, letting the roiling waves of heat warm them. “It’s nice like this.” 

The flame sizzles and pops, spewing sparks and eating up the wood, for a few long moments. You’re not in a talky mood, and Taehyun doesn’t seem to know where to begin on conversation with you that isn't functional. No snow falls around you, and any wind is cut by the estate. This—a place to lose yourself to your mind—is both the thing you need and what you most should not have. 

Taehyun stands watching the fire twirling, his arms over his chest.  

“Is your shoulder healing fine?” you ask, once the air starts feeling a bit heavy with the weight of the prolonged quiet. “Are my stitches holding up fine? No infection, or anything?” 

His gaze flicks up to you. “You stitched it up pretty well,” he answers. “I saw the flowers you were making. You’ve got a good hand.” 

Frowning, you say, “You didn’t say it’s not infected...” 

“It’s not infected,” he says. 

That could be a lie or the truth, you know. But... this sort of deception, you’re more comfortable with. Your human mind can pick up on these subtleties, can catch the careful intonation of somebody trying to hide something behind a lie. “Could I see it?” you ask him. 

He hesitates, expression flat as his eyes convey the extent of his consideration. “You can.” He grabs at his tunic, the fabric the only thing his frost blood even needs to wear out in the cold, and pulls it over his head. 

You swallow hard and fight the flush to your cheeks at the sight of his scar-flecked flesh, his muscled abdomen disappearing as he turns around to show you his back. When you’d last seen his bare skin, you’d been so high on your fear and adrenaline that you’d barely flinched.  

Blinking, you focus on the arrow puncture at his shoulder blade. It’s done some healing, but tinged by an angry red and visibly swollen around the stitches. You curse. 

Of course, he’d rather let his shoulder rot away than admit that he needs any more of your help than he’d been forced to allow. That would require admitting that he’s not just an impenetrable wall of ice. “That is definitely infected,” you say. “Were you just going to let that kill you? Infections like that are beyond help once they get in your bloodstream.” 

“I’ve had infected wounds before,” he says, preparing to put his shirt back on. “This one is nothing. It’ll take a bit longer, but... It’ll heal up fine.” 

You grab his arm. “Just let me clean it a bit,” you insist. “It’s not that big of a deal. You’re not scared that it’s gonna hurt, are you?” 

Sighing, Taehyun says, “I thought you wanted to enjoy the solstice.” 

The hopeful girl you’d been had wanted that, but now it’s just a reminder of everything you don’t want to remember. You wave your hand in the air dismissively. “We did. Come on.” 

You find a bucket to fill with water and cloth along with some stash of ancient spirits in the kitchens, their containers lined with a layer of dust so thick that you know they’re left over from Taehyun’s father. He watches you gather it all. 

You beckon him to turn and show you his shoulder again. He does, bracing his arms on a counter and letting his head hang. You spill out some of that strong liquor into the wound. You’re not really sure if it’ll work as a disinfectant, but as a girl you’d seen an older woman pour it over her wound once, and it’s all you know. 

Gently dabbing at his shoulder now with the water-soaked rag, swollen except for where the stitches sinch it, you say, “You should’ve been going gentle on this thing.” 

Taehyun doesn’t make any fuss as you prod at the wound. “I had more important things to concern myself with,” he says plainly. You press the wet rag to the wound and hold it there, and he begins to try and redirect the conversation to anything other than about himself. “What did the prince say to you at Court?” 

Your stomach drops. “It was nothing.” 

“I know that’s not the truth,” he says, picking up his head to try and look over his shoulder at you. “Tell me the truth.” 

You take the long, torn strips of cloth and begin wrapping it around the expanse of his broad shoulders in a sloppy and amateurish wrap. As long as it shields the wound, it’ll work. “That’s rich coming from you,” you say. “There’s plenty that you lie to me about. You even lied about this.” You tap his shoulder. 

Turning now that you’re done, Taehyun eyes you. You don’t know if he’d been able to hear anything over the sounds of Court or if he’d heard it all with his better hearing ears. You can’t tell which it is.  

“I’ll hear it from some Court gossiper anyway. I think you’d prefer to tell me it yourself.” 

The thought of that scene being a topic of Court gossip makes you ill, but you know that it’s true. The folk love the show, especially one that includes a prince of Faerie on his knees in front of a human. Red-hot embarrassment takes a leisurely stroll up your spine. Your biggest fear has taken flesh in the cruelest way possible.  

Well, if he’s going to end up knowing anyway... You’d prefer it’s from your mouth. You don’t know what sort of conflated half-truths the folk might come up with, since they have no more idea what happened than what they saw. “He was supposed to kill us,” you say, chest too tight to explain it in any depth. “Or, at least, find out who we are, so that we could be killed.” 

Taehyun doesn’t look shocked. He nods. “So, they anticipated our arrival, then. The odds had been stacked against us from the beginning.” 

You nod. Would you have been able to escape? If things had never become entangled between you and Yeonjun, would you and Taehyun lived beyond the first day? Taehyun is strong and you know that he’s no doubt survived plenty in his life, but you’d have been caught completely unaware. “Yeah.” 

“I told you that he’d show you his colors eventually.” 

You want to fight him on that, but you can’t. You have nothing to say. He’d been right. 

What’s left for you now that he has?  

…🪶 ashlynn's note RAHHH! like i said, this part gave me a bit of grief because part 3 was left so open ended—i had so many options and paths i could follow, but ultimately, i chose this one! how do we feel?

﹙🏷️ ﹚ @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @sanshiningstarhwa , @hyucktapes if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[azrielbrainrot]

On The Tip Of My Tongue

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Touch Denial

Description: Eris' punishment is a lot harder than you had imagined.

Warnings: Smut, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, some dirty talk

Word Count: 1,5k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Eris has spoiled you throughout your entire relationship, giving in entirely too easily to your every whim and desire even when you were still only meeting in secret. Most times you simply needed to mention something even if half-heartedly and he would be more than willing to oblige. You've had him wrapped around your finger long before there was a ring shining brightly on it.

Which is why it came as such a big surprise how effortlessly he was resisting your begging. Never in a million years did you think that Eris wouldn't allow you to touch him when you were already kneeling between his legs, pleas flowing from your mouth unashamedly as you watched his fist move up and down his length right in front of you.

When he said this would be your punishment, you thought you would have easily broken him down, only needing a good pout and a few sweet “pleases” before he would give in and let you show him how sorry you truly were, but it seems you were completely wrong.

As soon as you went up to the noble who had been giving him trouble recently, you knew you'd have to face the consequences, you just never imagined this is what would happen. You only wanted to help, knew that since the male was a friend of your brother's and had always taken a liking to you, when you brought up the papers Eris needed him to sign with a smile he would agree immediately.

You barely had any time to bask in your accomplishment at taking a load off your exhausted husband's shoulders when you felt an intense heat traveling down the bond. Eris has always been more than confident in himself and in your love for him, but that pesky mating bond makes things too complicated, it makes even the calmest and gentlest fae lose control, and your mate was neither.

While still in the banquet hall, surrounded by pretentious and even malicious high fae, you were more than relieved that Eris managed to quell the unforgiving jealousy the fresh mating bond evoked, but now that you were faced with him stroking his cock, not allowed to even touch him, you almost wished he had burned down the whole house instead, at least he would have let you touch him then.

The idea of seeing Eris pleasure himself in front of you was more than appealing under any other circumstances, it wasn't the first time it happened either though he usually ended up letting you take over for him somehow, but since he forbade you from moving or touching him, only allowing you to sit on your heels between his legs and watch him fucking his fist, it truly felt like a punishment.

“Eris,” you whine yet again, eyes tracking the liquid escaping the tip of his hard cock, wishing to all the Gods that you could taste it on your tongue.

Your nails dug into your naked thighs, forming half moon shapes on your warm skin, trying your absolute hardest to listen to what he told you and keep your hands to yourself in case he also followed up on his promise of stopping and not even letting you watch. The expensive rug was starting to feel rough under you, and you were so wet that he could probably smell it for himself, but you were too focused on his every movement, needing to at least catch every stroke and every harsh breath, too caught up on his delicious scent permeating the air.

Your mate simply chuckles, a cruel and stupidly attractive sound, one you were more than accustomed to hearing, just not aimed at you. His fist keeps moving up and down his length, tightening his grip as his eyes travel down to your lips for the nth time since he ordered you to kneel between his legs.

“It's truly a shame you didn't stay put earlier, my love,” he breathes, blown out eyes finding your pleading ones. “I'd much rather be fucking your mouth.”

“Then why won't you?”

“I told you this was a punishment.” You swallow as he leans closer, saliva pooling in your mouth, the bond screaming at you to just take what's yours already. “If I just let you do anything you wanted, you wouldn't learn your lesson.”

“I was just trying to help you, Eris.”

“And now not only will he expect my orders to come through you, but he also thinks he has a chance at taking my mate from me.”

Your eyes find his amber ones immediately, finally pulling yourself away from the sinful sight playing out in front of you. “He doesn't. You're the only one I want,” you assure, completely opening the bond to him, not wanting him to have any doubt you meant every word.

“I know but I'll still need to make sure he knows that as well,” he says, the smirk tugging at his lips more familiar to you, the bond not letting him ignore the confession even if he was still angry.

“You shouldn't scare your subjects too much, High Lord.”

Eris lets out a moan at the way his title spilled so beautifully from your lips, losing control just a bit before getting a hold of himself once more, and you have to fight back a smile at his reaction.

“That's not something you should worry about, my love.” His hands speeds up once again, his throbbing, leaking cock stealing your attention back. “There's something else you can do for your High Lord.”

“Please, Eris,” you murmur, leaning closer, mistakenly taking his words as encouragement.

Your cruel mate tuts softly, making you stop in your tracks, a hint of a glare playing on your face. Knowing him, you shouldn't have been surprised that he enjoyed seeing you like this, letting out a breathy moan at the heat in your eyes and finally reaching out a hand, holding your chin with a thumb. It was a soft and minute touch but after being denied for so long, you can't help but let out a pleased sigh, the warmth of his skin feeling magical against yours.

“Open your mouth for me.”

His eyes were burning into yours so intensely that you didn't dare look away even for a second, simply obeying him and parting your lips immediately, your body always so willing to listen to him.

"Good girl,” he moans out, the praise making you squeeze your thighs together, before cupping your chin in his larger hand, guiding your mouth closer to his cock, movements getting more fantic and sloppy.

Even if he didn't allow you to touch him, you couldn't help but feel extremely lucky and even proud that you were the one at his feet and you were the only one who got to watch this mesmerizing sight. Eris had always been stupidly handsome, it was a fact even the people who loathed him had to bitterly admit, but in these moments, with his chest rising and falling, muscles contracting with effort, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead, and a deliciously wild look in his eyes, he always looked godly.

It didn't take long for him to reach his limit, seeing as he had been almost edging himself as he listened to your sweet begging, lining the head of his cock with your mouth, careful not to let it touch your lips, and letting himself go, eyes fixated on the way his cum fell on your tongue. Since he seemed so adamant on not letting his cock touch your mouth at all, some of it fell on your lips and chin as well, making a complete mess of your face.

The jealousy clouding his mind and the bond seemed to lift almost instantly, his eyes significantly softer when they fell on yours once again, though a certain heat still lingered. He was still holding your chin with two fingers, content with the way his cum and saliva pooled in your mouth, pushing every drop that fell on your chin inside with his thumb.

“You can swallow,” he whispers, humming at how you obeyed him promptly yet again, willing to do anything his wicked mind could think up if it meant he would keep watching you like this.

Your cunt was absolutely soaked, wetting your thighs as you pressed them together tightly, begging for attention, but you couldn't help but feel somewhat satisfied either way. It also wasn't lost on you that with how much you had pleaded with him, not one of those had been asking for him to touch you, only really wanting to make him see stars. The desire flooding the bond now and replacing the dark feelings present before was more than enough to satiate you, or so you thought.

“Get on the bed, my love,” he says, grin widening at the excitement on your face. As soon as the words left his mouth, you were on your feet, moaning unabashedly when his hands fell on your hips and he helped you lay back against the mattress, his body falling over yours sending an euphoric feeling rushing through your veins. “Now that your punishment is over, I think it's time for a reminder.”

[estcaligo]

Sebek's scales

x reader * romantic, dramatic, focusing more on emotions than scales * Sebek's hands, eyes and ears are done, see #Caligo's stories

"Shh… there, there…" you whispered softly, your hand tracing slow circles on Sebek's back. His low groan rumbled through the quiet halls of Ramshackle, a thunderous expression of his hidden agony. His head rested in your lap, face hidden - as if from shame. He had come to you for solace, seeking comfort from the gnawing, relentless pain he had never expected to experience.

Sebek was growing scales. At last.

A couple on his neck, a few on his cheekbones, some on his back, and on his shoulders too…

It was something he had long awaited, a sign of his lineage manifesting in him. But the joy of this long-anticipated change was marred by the unfortunate surprise of unbearable discomfort. It felt like a wound trying to heal but never quite managing to, a constant need to scratch at what could not be touched - if he scratched, he'd risk tearing them apart with his strength. At this point, the scales felt more like a curse than the proud mark of the Zigvolt bloodline they were meant to be.

But it wasn't just the physical torment… it was the disappointment that burned in him, perhaps even more than the itching and pain. His grandfather had mentioned that these scales, a mark of their crocodile fae heritage, were supposed to come naturally - painlessly, without effort.

But Sebek wasn't fully fae.

Some genetic trick must have occurred, the half-human part of him must have twisted what should have been a prideful moment into a painful ordeal. A stark reminder of his mixed blood. A shameful slap in his face. It felt like another betrayal of his heritage, another sign that he was different in ways he couldn't control. And it tore him up inside, almost as much as the itching tore at him on the outside.

There were days - and long, sleepless nights - when the pain became unbearable, so Lilia, ever perceptive, suggested he spend those times with you. He knew that only you would be able to comfort him in this situation. Your boundless patience and kindness were some of the many reasons why you and Sebek had grown so… close, after all.

Lilia knew as well as you did - Sebek could only truly let down his guard in your presence. Far away from any mention of Malleus. In the presence of his liege, Sebek could never admit to weakness. Never confess to discomfort, let alone agony. He couldn't appear vulnerable - not even in front of Malleus' portrait!

So, after much bluster and loud denial, Sebek had accepted Lilia's offer. And there he was again - in your arms - his most trusted, cherished, beloved human.

To be honest, you didn't know much about the process he was going through. Much? Rather, nothing at all. You'd tried researching it, but Sebek's case was unique, and none of your studies had brought useful results. So all you could offer was your support - your warmth, your touch, your tender kisses, your embrace, your presence.

And that was more than enough for him.

At first, he grumbled and huffed, of course, too proud to fully surrender to your care (the usual routine in your relationship). But inevitably, he would end up curled in your lap, clinging to you when the pain spiked, his fists clenched tight when the itch became too much to bear.

To distract him, you would sometimes read aloud, sharing poetry. Or even snippets of random stories that would ignite his passionate opinions. His voice would rise as he debated with you, his eyes flashing, and soon he'd be pacing the room, animated and alive, the pain momentarily forgotten. You watched him with quiet joy, delighted to see your dear Sebek so full of life again. His voice loud, his gestures grand - your beloved, boisterous crocodile...

Who was growing his scales, despite the price.

You were proud of him, proud of this important moment in his life. And you swore to yourself that you would do everything you could to make this challenge easier for him. After all, he was there for you too, even if he didn't always show it.

Some said Sebek was an open book, but the more you learned about him, the more you realized - not everyone could read what was written within him.

Just because a book is open does not mean everyone can understand it.

Of that, you were certain. And maybe these scales would be like symbols, letters, writing a new chapter in his story. A chapter of a different kind of strength - forged in his unique pain and held gently in the warmth of your love. At the very least, they were writing these intimate moments now - moments you hoped you both would one day look back on and smile.

Sebek was strong. He would overcome this, just as you knew he could overcome anything. And no matter the challenge - whether scales, studies, nightmares, or war - you would be by his side.

Forever and always.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

No Light In The Darkness

Male Moth Fae Yandere x Gender Neutral Firefly Fae Reader Word Count: 1.5k (CW: Noncon, stalking, fear, dissociation, general yandere behavior, kidnapping, mentally broken reader, dead dove: do not eat, biting, crying, dacryphilia)  (I marked this one as dead dove because despite there being no physical pain or violence I tried to make the mental anguish and the rape scene and depression that follows to be a bit more realistic than normal, idk if I succeeded but I hope readers still enjoy this work. Also thank you to the reader who suggested the name for the yandere.) (This was a request in my stack from a year ago. Oops. Sorry it took so long.)

A firefly fae with constantly moving antenna, a chitinous exoskeleton covering your feet, legs, hands, and arms, and a brightly glowing thorax that extended from your back and bobbed behind your bare ass. That was you. Overall, you were a pretty average firefly.

Sadly though, you were of a very rare breed. There were very few other firefly fae out in the world, at least not in the part of it that you inhabited. But that was okay, you still went out every warm night and took to the sky, flashing and signaling in the way that your kind did to show you were receptive to romantic advances. You did, actually, have a suitor or two, but they were unfit. They seemed nice, but they lacked a certain special something. They weren’t firefly fae like you were. They were illumination deficient. How could you possibly be a partner with someone who was utterly unable to communicate and woo you via light? Being able to express yourself via your light signals was just far too essential an aspect of a relationship to be with someone who you could not share it with. No, you would be happier single than you would be relegating yourself to a relationship with such a person. The non-firefly fae men that you had to reject were all respectful about it and seemed to understand. Or so you had thought. But there was one who always watched you, stealing glances at you whenever you were out and about during the day and completely unable to move his eyes off of you as he stealthily watched you every night from the shadows as you did your half of an unrequited mating ritual. Orion, the muscular moth man that could never manage to take his eyes off of you. How could he possibly be expected to when you illuminated the sky with your enticing little mating dance. Especially since, even if you didn’t want to acknowledge it yet, it was all for him. How could it be for anyone else? There was no one else even watching, and those that had tried to court you in the past never stuck around like he did after you denied them. They couldn’t pass your test to show dedication in earning you as a mate. You probably didn’t even realize you were doing it, were probably in denial telling yourself you had to have another firefly fae, but really you didn’t fool Orion even if you had managed to fool yourself. There were no others of your kind anywhere near there. So obviously you were dancing for Orion. But he was starting to get impatient waiting for you to realize it yourself. He needed to be your mate already. To have his roaming hands explore all over your body. Orion was a master of sticking to the shadows, but even so you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched. You had this feeling in the past from time to time but over the past few weeks the sensation had become nearly unbearable. You could not shake, even for a moment, the sensation that you were being stalked. Hunted. Every breeze, every snapping twig, or rusting leaf was a potential assailant to you. It was especially bad in the woods. You surveyed all that was around you, constantly hyper-vigilant. But all you could see were shrubs, trees, soil, and flowers, nothing out of the ordinary. Even your little house, safe above the forest floor, hanging from the branches of a great tree, did not offer the sense of sanctuary that it should have. You even felt at times that you were being watched in your sleep. You even went so far as to get new thicker drapes to make sure no one could peep in. You tried to calm yourself down, tell yourself that you were being paranoid, but you just couldn’t. One day in the forest as you were searching for food things finally came to a head. You were walking along a gently used forest path, overgrown with grass and weeds, when you noticed a delicious looking clump of edible mushrooms at the base of a bush. You bent down and plucked them up, popping them into your basket when suddenly the bush rustled and shook. With a jolt of abject terror you dropped your basket and ran before taking off flying towards your home. You entered the door and slammed it shut and locked it, leaning against it as you caught your breath. Safe, you were safe and sound. An arm suddenly grabbed you from behind making you scream. The glowing red eyes of a mothy fae greeted you. “Are you okay, my love?” You shrieked and tried to get out of the door you had just slammed closed, shaky hands fumbling desperately at the lock. “If something is after you I will keep you safe!” He exclaimed in a voice that could only be described as eager and “trilling”. He pulled you close and held you tight against his abs. You tried to flail out of his grip, to kick and push but he was so strong, you could see and feel his muscles even beneath his lavender fur. One set of arms wrapped around you, squeezing uncomfortably tight, while the other two slowly made trails all over your body, feeling up your rear, gently touching your sides, and finally turning your head towards him as he kissed you deeply, making a sound not unlike a purr as he did so. You struggled against him, fighting the kiss, your pleas and screams muffled into it, but he did not seem to mind. You tasted so wonderful. “Calm down my little light, I am here for you. I know you might be in denial and nervous, but I know you need me.” He gently grinded against you from behind, his large warm erection slipping between your thighs and plainly visible from between your legs. Precum smeared your thighs as he continued thrusting really slowly, like he was afraid he might harm his tiny little victim. His words, obviously, did nothing to console you and his erection clearly showed his sexual intent with you, eliciting the only logical response. “L-let go of me you fucking psycho! Are you touched in the fucking head!? Get your nasty dick away from me you filthy pervert!!! What in the ever loving fuck is wrong with you?” As you said these words with all the anger and venom you had in you you were flashing angrily as well. “Ah you flash so prettily for me my little fire~ Someone’s just grouchy because they don’t know how to admit they want to be my mate and get my cock in them!” He completely twisted the intent of your words until they reinforced his skewed reality. His cock prodded your entrance, lovingly massaging precum into your hole to lube you up while one of his roaming hands found your chest and he began lightly pinching your nipple. “You don’t need to act all tough my sweet flame, I know you’re soft. You have a mate now, no use pretending otherwise,” he cooed. “You’re a goddamn maniaaaaah-” Orion stopped your words by biting into your sensitive neck just as he finally drove his cock into you. You moaned involuntarily and your legs probably would have given out had he not been holding onto you with his powerful arms. “See? I’ll make my mate feel so good~” You felt a growing heat in your stomach as your light started flashing like crazy, your body was betraying you completely but no part of you wanted this. Tears flooded your eyes and sobs broke up the gasps leaving your body. Of course Orion was oblivious to your plight. Another thing he completely misinterpreted. Your frantic light signals were a sign for him to continue, your tears were clearly of joy, and you couldn’t help but sob in pleasure because your big strong mothy mate was taking such good care of you. The overstimulation was way too much. The mouth all over your neck, sucking, biting, licking, and kissing. The fingers playing with your nipples. The arms holding you so tightly like you were the most important treasure on earth. You came hard. You went limp and your mind went blank, as if trying to spare you what was happening to you to some degree. It was, almost, like an out of body experience. He did not stop at your climax, he kept diving into you over and over, licking up your beautiful tears that he was so sure were caused by the pleasure he was giving you. At long last he finally planted one more passionate kiss to your unresponsive lips and filled you with his viscous seed. His antenna flitted over you and he held you even closer than before. He finally got to breed his darling. And when you next rejoined reality you would find yourself in an unfamiliar dwelling, the place he called home, leaning against him with your face buried in his chest, quietly sobbing, as he slowly made love to you again and again. 

[sinfullyrosey]

How to Tame Your Dragon

Malleus Draconia X Male!Reader

Warnings: Dom!Reader, Blowjob, Deep Throating, Mild Bondage (via a tail), Scent Kink, Degradation & Praise (aimed at Malleus), Rimming, Anal, Orgasm Denial, Malleus is a Simp Needy Sub

I put my whole ass pussy and braincell into this fic lol

The meeting had run a little later than expected, advisors droning on about some new laws drafted up and issues brought forth by the people. Others asking him his input on certain political issues and how he’s going to address them. All was just so draining and mind numbing to the young king.

But all of that doesn’t matter now what with the room having been evacuated of everyone save for himself and his human companion. The very same magicless human he had met at Night Raven College all those years ago and who had now become his partner in marriage.

You.

A mere child of man.

The one who has his heart in your hands and whose vision blesses his thoughts each and every day that goes by. The one who became his first friend, his first adviser, his first and only love.

The same lover who is currently sitting comfortably atop his throne, one leg over the other, your chin resting in your palm as you lean against the armrest. And he, sitting down on his knees at your feet, gazing up at you with unbridled adoration.

A cold look of fake indifference plastered itself upon your face as you leer down at your horned husband. Slitted eyes gaze back up at you, nothing but love and the desire to serve swirling in those gorgeous green eyes of his. He was being obedient, sitting back and waiting for your command.

“Hm, is there something you want, Malleus? You’re staring at me like I’m the last bowl of ice cream in the fridge.”

His expression brightened at your acknowledgment, scooting ever so slightly closer, hands still remaining firmly on his knees. His tail tip wagged slowly in building excitement.

“You, my love. I want you. Only you. Please, if I may, can I pleasure you once more?”

You snort at that.

Such a poetic sap he is. Speaking about you as if you were some fine jewel to be added to his growing hoard. You roll your eyes and sigh out a soft, “I suppose.” making his tail pick up in speed.

You shifted in your seat, moving to push aside your silken, black robe and pull your undergarments down, revealing your now unclothed dick and balls. You were semi-hard, his earlier words having more of an effect on you than you’re willing to admit, let alone acknowledge.

“You may worship my cock like you have done so many times before, but only with your mouth and tongue. You keep those hands away from me or else.”

“Yes, my dear prince. I won’t. Only my mouth shall serve my loveliest briar rose.”

“Good, good. Now, get to it.”

You lean back and watch as the mighty king of Briar Valley, royal fae who all fearfully respected, stuck out his tongue and began to lap at a mere human’s cock like some common brothel whore. His long, darkened tongue licked along the sides and underside, starting from the base and moving all the way to the tip.

You let out a long, blissful sigh as you felt your dick start to harden more under his ministries, his mouth sucking and kissing at the hot flesh. Malleus enjoyed the sounds you were making and worked to get more out of you.

He’d kiss and lick all the way up to the tip before wrapping his lips around your red, swollen head, and suck. He’d suck and hum in delight, sending vibrations throughout your length, making you leak precum directly into his awaiting maw. He began to swirl his tongue around the head and slit, forked tongue gathering as much of your precious cream as he could to swallow and savor.

Malleus could never get enough of anything you had to offer him, cum included.

“Mmmalleus… Oh, you’re doing such a good job…Aah~ Keep that up.”

Your praise fueled and prompted him to go further. Now he started to gently bob his mouth against your length, still sucking and lapping away. He wanted to take in as much of you as possible, to swallow you whole and gift you with all the sweet pleasures you so rightfully deserved from him.

You moaned louder as you felt your cock hit the back of his throat, walls squeezing around you as he gagged slightly. In his eagerness to please, he failed to properly prepare himself to take you. Your blurry eyes started to flutter closed, and you chuckled to yourself at your lover’s desperate mistake.

He attempted to correct himself while still sucking you off without interruption, making you purr in sadistic glee. He knew better than to stop over his own discomfort. No, he would never put his own comfort of yours, too desperate to keep you happy and moaning.

So, you let him, merely relaxing in your seat while he choked on your dick like a good cock-hungry slut. You let out a sigh and continued to focus on the tight, warm mouth you were fucking.

But your eyes suddenly shot back open when you realized a pair of soft, smooth hands were gently stroking your balls in just the right way that you liked. Your panting increased as he cupped the swollen sacks of flesh, rubbing his thumb pads along them and making them tighten and flex.

But as much as you enjoyed getting your balls fondled, you don’t enjoy how Malleus disobeyed you. Just as he started to use his sharp claws to softly graze along the sensitive flesh, you leaned forward to slap his hands away, sending him a stern glare.

“Hey! What did I say about keeping your filthy hands to yourself?! Mouth and tongue only!”

Malleus startled but obeyed. Keeping his hands off of you and slipping your length out of him so he could bow in apology. You continued to scowl down at him and crossed your arms angrily.

“Use your tail to wrap around your arms and keep them secured behind your back. Disobey me again and I won’t allow you to touch me, at all, for a whole month. Understood, Malleus?”

His eyes widened ever so slightly in worry, but nodded his head in understanding, nonetheless.

“Yes, my love. Please, forgive me…” He said, doing as you ordered and secured his tail around his arms behind his back, preventing him from using them any further.

You huff at his sad apology and roll your eyes. Still a bit tiffed, you promptly grabbed at one of his horns, holding it in a vice grip and forcefully shoved his face into your heavy, round balls. The sudden movement caught him off guard as he was met with the sweet, musky scent of your cum-filled balls.

“Since you seem to be so interested in them, then why don’t you put that mouth of yours to good use and lavish them? I might just be willing to forgive you then, my sweet, slutty king.~”

The fae inhaled your scent, the smell of you making his head spin and mouth water. Your grip didn’t let up so he had no other choice but to do as you requested and started lapping at the full orbs. You hummed in approval as his wet, warm tongue worked their magic.

“That’s it, just cover them in your messy drool. Disobedient dragons should atone for their naughty behavior.~”

Malleus moaned, maw giving open-mouthed kisses to the swollen pair. Your scent was filling his nostrils as he sucked on one of the meaty spheres, your large, leaking member resting atop his head.

“Mmm, you taste so divine my love. So sweet and lovely.~ I can’t… help myself…”

Your husband was moaning against you, lost in the euphoria your aroma brought. The sight alone caused a spike of satisfaction to shoot right to your growing ego… and dick. Causing it to twitch and pulse with the need to cum.

So, as much as you were enjoying watching him make a pathetic fool of himself, you still wanted to move things along already. You were getting impatient and he seemed too balls deep to do so himself.

“Alright, that’s enough of that. I want you back to sucking me off, mouth stuffed with my cock.”

You shoved his head away from you, startling him once more from your rough, abrupt nature.

“Now, open up, Mal~” You cooed.

He barely had parted his lips when you suddenly grabbed both horns firmly in your hands and shoved his head all the way down onto your length, forcing yourself into his mouth and down his throat in one swift motion.

The fae’s eyes widened as he gagged from the sudden intrusion, trying to accommodate for the newfound size taking up all of his space.

“MPH! Mm..!”

“Haah, you take me so nicely Malleus, as always. How does that feel, hm? Finally getting what you wanted you needy, little tart? Do I taste good shoved down your throat? Because you sure as hell feel wonderful around my cock.~”

“Mmmph, mm…”

You could see his eyes water at the corners over the strain in his mouth. While he may be struggling to gather his bearings, you knew all too well how much Malleus was enjoying your whole dick in his mouth again, able to taste and smell you so intensely.

His back even arching slightly, body trembling in some places. He was incredibly aroused right now and no doubt his own pair of dick and balls were just bursting to be set free and touched too.

You chuckle and release one hand to push back his bangs and reveal his patterned scales underneath.

“Oh, does that feel good Malleus? I bet it does. I bet that empty, little head of yours is now being filled with nothing but the thoughts of me and what you’d want to do with me, huh? Such a needy, hungry thing you are.~”

You crooned down at him, affectionately running your fingers over the scales, earning a muffled moan from him. You continued your petting, gently scratching your nails at the spot, making his eyes flutter and roll back in pure euphoric, lovesick bliss.

It truly was a sight to behold.

The very ruler of Briar Valley, a proud and powerful dragon fae, renowned for his skills in magic, on his knees for a mere human. The Malleus Draconia, slobbering on the dick of a much weaker and magicless pheasant, and doing so with such submission and reverence!

The thought alone had you grinning down at him, watching his shameful display of swallowing your whole length down as you used his horns as leverage to thrust into him rhythmically. You listened to the sweet sounds of his muffled moans mixed with the slick noise of his saliva and your precum dripping passed his lips.

You sped up your pace once you felt your approaching orgasm reaching its peak. Having long since lost your patience and just wanting to cum already, you focused solely on getting to your release.

And release you did. With a final shudder and the sudden feeling of your body and balls tightening up, your member finally squirted out all that built up emission. Ribbons of hot, creamy cum shot directly down Malleus’ throat, making him gag and struggle to gulp it all down, some still slipping past his dark lips and drip down his chin.

You slipped your still twitching length out of him, using your slick and his saliva to jerk yourself off in order to get every last remaining drop out of you and into his awaiting mouth.

“Keep your mouth open for me. That’s it, nice and wide. Show me that lovely, long tongue of yours. And make sure to swallow every, last, drop.~”

Obeying, he kept his mouth nice and wide for you, sticking his white-stained tongue out and catching any stray drops you oh so graciously gifted him. And once you were all through, he closed his mouth to swallow it all up, savoring the salty-sweet flavor of your essence.

“Good boy.~ You’re just as good at following orders as you are giving them.”

Malleus crooned under your praise; a deep rumble one could mistake for a purr reverberated from his chest. The dragon’s brain was near mush by this point, thoughts of only you rolling around in there. Your taste was still lingering on his tongue and scent wafting in the air, making his head even heavier with the presence of you. It was all so overwhelming yet not unwelcome.

“Oh Malleus~”

At the sound of your sweet voice calling to him, Malleus broke out of his thoughts to give you his full, undivided attention once more.

Only to be met with the sight of you with your back turned to him, body leaning over the throne, and ass in full view, swaying slowly back and forth as to tease him. A lazy smirk and lidded eyes were present on your face.

“Aren’t you forgetting something? I’m not finished being spoiled yet, my king.~”

In a sudden fit of excitement, the fae quickly stood up, untangling his tail from his arms and rushed to remove his own member from his attire in order to spoil you some more.

You let out an unimpressed ‘tsk’ and stopped him before he could go any further and attempt to stick it in you before being properly prepared first. Malleus was no small fellow, after all.

“Ah ah ah, I wasn’t referring to your member, Malleus. I was referring to that sinful tongue of yours.~”

Emphasizing your point, you placed both hands on either side of your tight hole and spread it open, making it wink at your aghast lover.

Malleus halted his previous ministries, licking his lips in lust-filled hunger. Seems like you were making the dragon work for it and wanted him to almost grovel at your feet. And grovel he will, because the moment the wafting scent of your sweet musk reached his nostrils, he was done for.

Immediately returning to his previous position on his knees, Malleus leaned forward to inhale as much of your scent before diving in. And just like with your previous spoiling, he had no scruples with lavishing your hole with his tongue.

You let out pleased sounds with each lap of his dark tongue along your tight ring. Each one opening up the puckered hole more and sending a buzzing feeling throughout your body. The feeling making you let out a satisfied, shaky sigh.

“Such an eager pleaser, aren’t you, Malleus?~” You mused.

The dragon hummed affectionately, sending vibrations that had you moaning and leaning into his touch. His whorish nature only made you chuckle more as you decided that you had also run out of patience and would now move on to the main course.

You turned around and shoved him away, earning a confused growl from the dragon. You simply stood up and gestured for him to sit on the now unoccupied throne. He did so, still confused but still eager to carry out any orders you have for him.

With a grin and now thoroughly prepared hole, you moved aside his robes to reveal his thick, neglected cock, then smoothly made your way into Malleus’s lap. He instinctually placed both hands onto your sides, claws digging slightly into your supple skin. Your ass was rubbing up against his throbbing member, sending his mind into a frenzy.

You looked up at him with lidded eyes, a knowing, seductive smile on your face. You could feel his tip leaking and dick twitch, just begging to fill you up. You gave him one quick, fleeting kiss under his jaw before you, finally, and ever so slowly, sunk yourself down fully onto his awaiting cock.

The sensation had the fae sighing in relief. A deep rumble sounded from his chest once more and you started to tentatively move your hips.

“You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you, Malleus?”

“Yes, my love! I’ve been waiting ever since you first sat down on my throne and demanded I began pleasuring you. I only want to pleasure you my precious briar rose.~”

You rolled your eyes at that, but still kept that same smile.

“Just be a good boy for me now. Behave. No moving or thrusting back. Just sit here while I bounce on this slutty cock of yours. Or else I’ll leave you dry and needy without a second thought.” You playfully threaten, wrapping your arms around his neck as support while you bounced in his lap.

Your lover heard you loud and clear and nodded his head in understanding. He rested his face in the crook of your neck as you bounced vicariously on his dick. He’ll be good for you, he promises.

“Mm, I know you will. Such a greedy dragon, after all. Wanting nothing but my cock, my hole, my attention.”

He crooned at your words, letting out a huff that sent a small, dark cloud puffing from his nostrils. You gently pat his head, keeping a slow, steady rhythm as he desperately restrained himself, shoving himself further against your neck to breath in as much of your scent as possible.

Your fingers slid into his silky locks once more, this time, more tenderly. You lovingly played with his hair as he grew closer and closer to his ineffable climax, soaking up as much of you as he possibly could. And yet, you still took it slow, ceasing your movements whenever you felt he was about ready to burst, and then continuing when he had calmed down. You repeated this cycle until you were ready to allow him to cum.

After all, you planned to savor this moment and milk it, and him, for all its worth.

[pit-and-the-pen]

Three's a crowd

Summary: After finding out your mate, Cassian, had slept with Nesta you let slip that you wouldn't mind her joining you and Cassian.

Cassian x reader established relationship, Smut (18+)Female reader, m/f/f threesome, mean dom Nesta, soft dom Cassian, Sub reader, impact play, subspace kinda, fingering, oral (m/f receiving), orgasm denial, lots of praise, lots of safe word checks. Two mentions of spit. 

Idea by the lovely @sarawritestories <3

divider by @tsunami-of-tears

It started out as an innocent story telling session with your family. Nothing out of the ordinary, a bottle or two of wine shared in your cozy living room. Nesta, Emery, Gwen and you sitting on your couches feet tucked up as laughter filled the air. Your mate, Cassian, was out grabbing a few drinks with his brothers at Rita’s so naturally you invited all your friends. 

The hours passed like minutes, Gwen recounting some story about a unicorn that had Nesta and Emery roaring with laughter, shouting over each other with “That’s not how it happened!” “Tell it right, Gwen!”

“What he did like me more. I know you were too busy getting your world rocked by Cas to remember anything correctly but-” Gwen gasped before clamping a hand over her mouth. You felt your eyes widen, letting the words sink in. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I…shit.” The red head knocked back the rest of her glass of wine. Nesta’s cheeks had tinged pink right up to the long tips of her ears. 

“It’s fine. I promise.” You said, taking a long sip of your own. Nesta’s head snapped to yours. 

“What?”

“It’s no big deal. If I got jealous over every person Cassian has ever slept with, I would never know a moment of peace.” You laughed lightly to yourself. And you truly didn’t mind. Maybe only slightly because she hasn't told you but that’s the past. 

“Did I hear my name?” Speak of the devil. Cassian strolled into the living room, pressing a quick peck to the top of your head as he flopped down onto the couch next to you. 

“Only talking about how much of a rake you used to be.” Another laugh drew out of you at his faux scandalized face. 

“Me?” 

“Yes you.” You poked right in between his ribs and he jumped slightly. Playfully batting away your hand. 

“And why, pray tell, are we discussing that?” 

“Gwen said you slept with Nesta. Well I believe her exact words were ‘rocking Nesta’s world’” Cassian’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head. You brushed a gentle hand on his cheek. “And I was just telling her that I’m fine with it.”

“You are?” You only nodded, draining the rest of your wine glass. 

“It was forever ago. I haven't even met you yet.” He tried to explain, words tumbling out. 

“Cas.” You cut him off, placing a hand on his thigh. “I really really don’t mind. I mean who wouldn’t want to sleep with Nesta.” It was your turn to blush. The sound of Gwen sputtering reminded you that you were in your very full living room that suddenly felt very small. You shot up to your feet, nearly stumbling over your own limbs. 

“I’m going to grab more wine.” You practically shouted and turned to leave the room. Trying not to run to the small wine cabinet, you were cursing yourself mentally. 

“You got out of there pretty fast.” Cassian said, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“I don’t know how I’m ever supposed to look her in the eye again.” You groaned, pressing your forehead against the cool wood of the cabinet. 

“Very easily actually. Did you mean it though?” 

“What part?” Your breath hitched in your throat as Cassian kissed up your neck. 

“Do you want to sleep with Nesta?” Your heartbeat sped up as you tried to fight back the thoughts. Nesta was gorgeous, anyone with eyes could see that. And you’d be lying if you said you never considered it. You loved your mate wholeheartedly but there was nothing wrong with looking. It wasn’t uncommon for you and Cassian to point out a fae or two that caught your eye at Rita’s, so this was no different. 

“Princess?” Cassian froze, mouth hovering right over your pulse point. 

“Would you be mad if I said yes?” Your voice was small, cheeks burning hot. He chuckled against your neck, continuing his path of kisses. 

“No.” His mouth was right against your ear. “Do you want her to join us in our bed?” He practically purred it and you gasped as his teeth toyed with your ear lobe. You could only nod your head. “Interesting. I’ll talk to her. But, be warned princess. She’s just as vicious in bed as she is out of bed.” He left one final bite to the column of your throat and unwrapped himself from around you. Leaving you trembling and wondering just exactly what you had gotten yourself into. And oh so excited for it. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

“Why don’t you go over your colors for Nesta, Princess.” Cassian’s hand rested lightly on your jaw, tugging your face up to look at him. You knelt in front of him, naked with your palms resting on your thighs.

“Yes, General. Green is okay, yellow means slow down or I’m starting to get uncomfortable. And red means stop.”

“Good girl.” Cassian said, running a hand through your hair. “And if you can’t talk? Like if Nesta was sitting on that pretty little face of yours?” Your breath hitched at the image he painted for you. You licked your lips as you let your mind wander. A slight tap on your head pulled you out of your dirty thoughts. 

“Right. One tap is good, two means slow down, and three is stop.” 

“Good girl. Now our rules are I can touch you, Nesta, but no fucking. Anything else I’m missing, princess?” 

“No, General.”

“Alright. Now show Nesta just exactly how good you can be.” He stepped back, letting Nesta step in front of you. 

“Can I touch you?” She asked, eyes roving over your naked form. She still had on a silk robe, tied loosely but covering anything that mattered. 

“Yes.” You said and her hand instantly tangled into the roots of your hair, pulling your head back to the ceiling. A small yelp left your mouth and she gave you a feline smile. 

“Oh you’re going to be fun to play with.” 

Nesta didn’t waste time before she had you ass up on the bed. Circling you with your favorite paddle in her hand. Your head was in Cassian’s lap, his straining cock right in front of you, throbbing, as you ran the tip of your tongue out to trace the veins that ran underneath. 

A loud smack filled the room and your shriek died off to a moan. 

“No touching him, yet.” She called out. You whimpered and Cassian ran a gentle hand through your hair. Another smack. 

“No touching her either, General.” She teased. “You have to earn touching him.” One more smack, harder than the others. Your foot kicked up at the feeling. The tinge of delicious pain that ran through you making you moan loudly. 

Nesta delivered hit after hit until tears stung your eyes. Cries bubbling out of your throat. Cassian’s cock was leaking, listening to your sweet noises but not being able to touch you. His hands were clenched tight by his side, fighting the urge to thread his fingers into your hair and push you down onto his aching cock. 

One last smack pulled a yelp from your throat. Slightly different from the others. Cassian swore under his breath. 

“Gods Nesta. I don’t even hit that hard during punishments.” He tapped your cheek lightly, asking for your eyes on him. You did so instantly. “Color?”

“Green. Very much green.” 

Another sharp hit, the paddle whipping through the air. 

“Is that how you address him?” Nesta asked. You shook your head. 

“No. I’m sorry, General.” 

Cassian had his eyes narrowed on Nesta as he answered you. “It’s okay, Princess. You’re doing great.” You didn’t need to see Nesta to know she rolled her eyes, a small sigh leaving her lips. 

“Aren’t you just dying to get your mouth around him?” She purred as her hand started rubbing at your now red backside. You nodded, which earned you a small snack with her hand this time. 

“Gods. Yes.” You answered. Her hand gently ran up the curve of your back, her lithe body following it until she was leaning over you. 

“Then put that pretty mouth to use, or is it only good for screaming?” You didn’t get a chance to answer before she tangled a hand into your hair and pulled you onto Cassian rock hard cock. His loud moan echoed through the room as he instantly hit the back of your throat. You gagged, trying to breathe through your nose. A string of curses left his mouth and his hand tried to rest on your head. The sound of a sharp slap filled the room as Nesta smacked his hand away. 

“I didn’t say you could touch her yet.” She hissed and pulled you off of him. A string of spit connecting your lips and the tip of him. “Color?” She asked you, you didn’t hesitate. 

“Green.” 

Her eyes flickered back to Cassian.

“See. She can take it. Now keep your hands to yourself before I tie them up.” She winked and that was all the time you got before she was pushing you back down onto Cassian. You were better prepared this time. Relaxing your throat and taking a short breath through your nose. Nesta praised you as she pulled your head up and down, controlling your every move. You were a whining mess under her as you wanted to be able to touch Cassian, run your hands up and down his thick thighs, cup his heavy balls the way that would make him moan your name and have him spill down your throat. 

“Enough.” She said and pulled you off of him again. She kept tugging until you were sitting on your knees, chest heaving as you gulped down precious air. Her hands rest lightly around your neck and she pushes you back against the bed, your hair hanging over the edge. 

She slings her legs over your chest, putting all of her weight right in the center. She curls a finger at Cassian, beckoning him to you. 

“Make her scream, General.” She purrs at Cassian and that’s all it takes for him to throw your legs apart. He runs a finger through your folds and groans when he finds you soaked. He thrusts two fingers into you, scissoring them to stretch you out for him. 

“Are you ready for me, princess? Think you can take me?” He coos and you cry your yes. Followed by a string of please. The words die off in your throat as he pushes his tip in. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of your mate entering you. 

Cassian sinks into you fully as Nesta’s fingers give your nipples a harsh tug. Your moan is quickly cut off by her thumb sliding into your mouth. 

“I think that’s a much better use for that loud mouth of yours, don’t you think Cas?” Your skin flushed as she talked about you like you weren’t even there. Cassian’s only answer was a sharp thrust of his hips, a move that would have sent you further up the bed if it wasn’t for Nesta’s weight on the center of your chest. His finger rubbing tight lethal circles on your clit. 

“Fuck. Everytime, it’s like you were made for me.” He spoke through clenched teeth. Slowing his thrust down to let you feel every inch of him. 

Your eyes shut close as you felt that coil tighten in your stomach. Biting into Nesta’s thumb as you fought back screams. Your body jolted when Nesta gave your breast a sharp slap. 

“Not yet.” Was all she barked before she pressed that same hand low on your belly. Your body shook as it only served to amplify every thrust, singeing every nerve in your body. 

Your head starts to feel a little fuzzy, slipping into that delicious headspace that only Cassian could give to you. Your hand sneaks across the bed, searching for his warm hand to stop you from fully floating away, not entirely sure of yourself with Nesta around. Nesta’s foot comes to rest on your wrist, pinning it down hard enough that you gasp. Nesta’s weight is off of you instantly. Cassian slipping out of you with a growl. Blinking off the haze in your eyes, you see Cassian holding Nesta’s neck lightly. 

“Cool off Nes.This is her first time. If my mate wants the comfort of my touch, then that’s what she gets. Do you understand?” Cassian growls. Something in Nesta’s eyes switches. That hard edge melts away and a flush rises over her cheeks. She mumbles something under her breath. 

“What was that?” His tone is softer now. Nesta’s eyes don’t meet his. 

“Yes sir.” Her voice is shaky.

Cassian’s eyebrows raise in question. He removes his hand from her neck, sliding it down her body. She shudders at the contact. Cassian leans in close until his mouth is just an inch away from her ear.

“I think you can do better than that, right Nes?” Nesta’s eyes flicker to you. You give her a small nod of encouragement, eyes wide at the scene unfolding in front of you. Still hazy from the orgasm you had been denied. 

“Yes, sir.” Nesta’s words are more firm. Cassian groans at the tone. 

“Better. Now I think we owe our girl over there something, don’t you?” Nesta bites her lip and nods. 

Cassian turns his attention to you “Color, princess?” 

“Y..yellow.” You stuttered out. “Just wanna touch you.” Your voice was small and shaky. The tell tale sign that you were starting to get overstimulated. 

“Are you okay with Nesta staying?” 

You think for a second then nod. His eyes soften and he runs a soothing hand through your hair. He places a kiss on your forehead and you all but melt against him. Dipping your head down to rest in the crook of his neck. His arms wrap around you and he shifts you to his lap, making you straddle him. 

“Like this?” He asks and you nod again. You raise your hips and whimper as you sink down onto him. You throw your head back as he bottoms out, hitting that sweet spot inside you right away. He gives you a few breaths to adjust to the new position. Then he hooks an arm over your shoulder and grinds you down on him, short quick thrusts that pull high pitched mewls from you. 

“Nesta.” You say between cries. The blonde was quickly by your side. You grabbed her cheeks between your hands and pulled her lips to yours. She swallowed every one of your moans, chasing them like they were oxygen. 

One of your hands snaked down her smooth stomach, feeling every muscle that her training has given her until you reach between her thighs. You trailed a tentative finger through her center. Drawing a moan from both of you as you circled her clit, applying the pressure the same way you would to yourself. Her hips bucked at the contact. Her own hand cupping the back of your head as the other started playing with your nipples. You slipped a finger into her, the sound of both of your slick filling the air. You paced your finger to the timing of Cassian’s thrusts. Your legs were shaking around Cassian and he moaned as you clenched around him. 

“Good girl. Fuck, you gonna cum all over my cock?” You moaned your yes. Not pulling away from Nesta’s soft lips. She nipped at your lower lip as you added another finger into her. Trying to get her to her own release. 

“Go ahead. Gods, you’re squeezing me like crazy, princess.” His words mixed with the sharp tug on your nipples had your whole body tensing. You pulled away from Nesta, fingers stilling inside of her as you came so hard you saw stars. Nesta held your head, Cassian wrapping his arms tight around your waist to crash you against him. Your ears were ringing but you could hear both of them whispering their praises in your ear. A few harsh thrusts from Cassian had him panting your name as he spilled into you. A loud keen flowing from your lips as he fucked you both through it. You're both panting, heads resting against each other when you remember you still had two fingers buried in Nesta. 

You pull off of Cassian, feeling his cum drip down your thigh as he slips out of you. 

“Lay down for me Nes.” You say as you pull your hand away from her cunt. She gives you a sleepy smile and does just that. You make a big show of slipping your fingers into your mouth. Moaning at the taste of her. You’re rewarded with her sharp inhale. You smile down at her and start trailing kisses down her chest. Lower, delivering a soft nip to her stomach, her hip, the inside of her thigh. She tilts her hips up to meet your mouth and you feel Cassian pin her hips to the bed. You look up at the both of them as you lower your mouth to Nesta’s center. 

She moans loudly as you lick a soft stripe between her folds. Her hands are instantly tangling in your hair. You circle her clit with your tongue, once, twice then you tap Cassian’s wrist once. Signaling him to let her go. That’s all it takes for her to start bucking against your face. Using that hand in your hair to push you closer into her. 

You can sense her growing frustration and sneak your hand up, teasing those same fingers inside of her again. Her back arches off the bed and she rides your face. Pushing your fingers deeper inside of her. You curl your fingers, searching for that rougher patch and almost smile when she curses loudly. Her moans quickly raise in pitch. Swears mingling with a garbled version of your name. Her legs try to clamp around your head but Cassian keeps a hand on her knee to stop her. Her moans turn into small mewls as her legs start to shake. You flick your eyes up and lock them with hers. That’s all it takes for her to fall apart on your tongue. Hips still bucking against your face as she rides out her high. You don’t stop your fingers until she’s pushing you away lightly. You drink up every drop off her arousal, leaving her glistening with a mix of it and your spit. You smile widely up at her as she pants, chest heaving, staring up at the ceiling. Her cheeks are tinged pink and she looks so pretty that you want to kiss her. So you do. A much softer kiss than the one you shared earlier. 

When you pull away and turn your face to your mate, you see him hardening against his thigh again. 

“Round two?” You turn back to Nesta, biting your lip. She quickly nods before Cassian is attaching his lips to yours. The groan that you pull from him lets you know just how long this night will be.

[pomefioredove]

FLIRTY PROMPTS FLIRTY PROMPTS!!!

May I ask for "I just want you to be happy! And perhaps a little bit naked." with Lilia, pretty please 🥺

I've been looking forward to this oneeee

summary: "I just want you to be happy! and perhaps a little bit naked" type of post: short fic characters: lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is probably yuu, not proofread, Malleus being Lilia's wingman instead of the other way around for once LOLLL a part of this event

"Come on, just one taste?"

Lilia pouts; he knows the power he wields with his cuteness, and he somehow finds a way to use it in every possible situation.

"I worked so hard!"

Your gaze drifts from the bowl of... something he's holding out to you to Silver and Sebek as they shake their heads behind him, trying to save you from your fate.

"...I just ate," you say. Silver sighs with relief.

Lilia huffs. "Again? What does the cafeteria food have that mine doesn't?" Silver opens his mouth, and Sebek shoots him a glare.

"Oh, well... More for me!"

You watch, shaking your head as the elder fae leaves the lounge, the warm bowl of brown sludge cupped between his hands.

Silver and Sebek follow, the latter grilling the former about respect.

"My... what do we have here?"

Malleus, for as tall and imposing as he is, appears in the lounge without a sound, filling the vacancy that the others had left behind.

"Lilia's cooking," you say. "He's been getting really into it lately."

Malleus blinks. And then he laughs. "Ah... aha. I thought I smelled something burning again. He really is quite smitten with you, isn't he?"

"Smitten?"

Now, that's a new one. You can't help but smile, deflecting the word in a single awkward laugh. "I don't think so,"

Malleus raises his brow, as if surprised by your denial. As if it should be obvious...

What a silly thought.

"Do you doubt my sincerity, child of man? I haven't seen Lilia so taken with anyone in... some time. He's rather adamant on impressing you with such things,"

He gestures to the bitter scent wafting from the kitchen.

You want to say that's not possible; Lilia is flirtatious by nature, but actually being interested in you...? Let alone going out of his way to woo you...?

You turn towards the arched doorway that Lilia had left from earlier. Malleus follows your gaze with a subtle smile.

"Well... I have a club meeting to attend. Good evening, child of man... unless you would like to join?"

"What?" you look back to him like a deer caught in headlights.

"Uh... no, not this time. Thank you, though."

He gives you another knowing smile and takes his leave without another word, departing and deserting you with your thoughts in the lounge.

You're not alone for long.

"Still here?"

A streak of black and pink drops down from the ceiling in front of you, changing the feel of the room to one of mirth and mischief.

Lilia smiles, studying your pensive expression carefully. "Fufufu... have you changed your mind? Want a taste of my soup after all?"

"No," you blurt out. He laughs at your nervousness.

"Oh, my... did I startle you? And here I was, starting to think that you'd grown used to my surprises..."

You roll your eyes at the tease in his voice and take a generous step back. His distaste for personal space is the last thing you need right now...

"That's not it. I was just... talking... to Malleus..."

Lilia narrows his eyes. The crimson is even more striking in the dark of the lounge... "Oh? About?"

"Nothing," you lie. It's pretty obvious. "...You."

"Little old me?" he asks, shuffling a little closer. He says it like a question, though he's not really looking for an answer.

...Almost like he already knows. Why do you suddenly feel so nervous?

"He was just... speculating..." you say. "...About you and I."

Vague... but not vague enough. Lilia seems to understand what you're implying immediately, another impish grin playing at his lips.

"Was he? And what did he say?"

You force a laugh; it's all you have left. "It's... it's funny, he thinks that you've been doing all these nice things to impress me because... because you like me,"

Lilia goes silent for a moment, cradling his chin in his palm as he watches you deflect the undeniable tension with another laugh.

And then, he starts giggling along with you.

"Fufufu... Oh, how innocent... mm, yes. Malleus is a smart boy, but he lacks social awareness. Otherwise, he would know I am not trying to woo you with cooking..."

You force another chuckle, though this one sounds weaker, scratchier. Of course, you should have known.

The chances that Lilia actually likes you... like-likes you... that he even thinks of you as attractive...

"I just want you to be happy..." Lilia goes on, his smile as merry as ever. "And... perhaps a little bit naked."

Pause.

He's always had a terrible enjoyment of pulling the rug out from under you, but this is almost insidious.

Lilia seems to enjoy your speechlessness, his grin only widening.

"Oh, my... you look flustered. I truly hope you didn't take my homemade meals as flirting, otherwise, you're in for quite a surprise.

...because I haven't even started yet,"

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Bound by Duty

Summary: Y/n is a Spring Court fae who’s loyal to Tamlin. Once she’s allowed to visit Feyre, she starts developing feelings for Cassian. But their love was never meant to be…

A/N: y/f/f = your favorite flower.

Warnings: angst, mention of abuse toward the end, Y/n being in denial about it.

Word Count: 3.1 K.

You can read part 2/alternative ending here.

The Spring Court had always been a place of comfort, beauty and peace. But lately, it felt suffocating. When Feyre came into your lives, she ignited something in Tamlin, and you grew to become close friends. With her gone, it felt empty, especially with Tamlin throwing fits of rage and being his broody self.

Before Feyre came into his life, you had been his source of joy amidst the curse and all. He had saved your life, and ever since, you stayed by his side, never refusing him a request. After Feyre left, you grew apart- or rather, he did.

“What’s wrong?” his voice cut through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. You blinked, almost forgetting that the two of you were eating dinner until he spoke. His brow was furrowed, concern flickering in his green eyes.

“Nothing” you lied, forcing a smile to your lips, though it felt strained.

“Don’t lie to me” he said, his voice growing firmer as he set his fork down, leaning closer. His eyes narrowed slightly as they searched your face “I know you. Something is bothering you”.

“What makes you think that?” you mumbled, your fingers idly playing with the food on your plate, unable to meet his eyes.

“You used to be full of life- happy. Now, you rarely even smile” he said, his expression softening, a flicker of something vulnerable flashing across his face.

“Oh! I hadn‘t realized that” you responded, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t noticed the change yourself, too distracted by everything weighing on your mind.

“Well?” He pressed, his eyes never leaving yours “What’s going on with you?”.

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll sort it out” you gave him another fake smile.

“There you go again, pretending that everything is fine when it’s not. Now, tell me what’s wrong”.

You sighed deeply, trying to keep your voice steady as you looked down at your lap “I don’t want to upset you”.

“You already have by not telling me”.

“Fine… I miss Feyre. I wish I could just visit her” you didn’t mean to say the last sentence- at least not out loud.

“Oh” you could see the pain on his face. He was silent for a moment, thinking about something. “If you wish to see her, you can go. You’re not my prisoner, Y/n. You may do as you please”. One look into his eyes and you could tell that he was afraid that you’d leave him too.

“I know that, but I don’t want to leave you. You come first” you said softly, your voice soothing as you reached out and gently placed your hand on his.

“Do you mean it?” he asked, his voice betraying his surprise.

“Of course. Tamlin, you saved my life. I’m indebted to you, and I’ll forever be grateful to you. I won’t go if you don’t want me to”.

“If it’ll make you happy, go! You have my blessing” he murmured, though his expression remained conflicted.

“Thank you” you said, offering him a genuine smile this time, one that felt real as your heart lightened.

—

Stepping into the Night Court felt like stepping into an entirely new world. You hadn’t left the Spring Court in years, and anxiety prickled at your skin. Not only were you nervous about traveling alone, but you’d heard stories about the Fae who lived here.

You had sent Feyre a word of your arrival and she informed you that one of her most trusted men would be there to pick you up.

Just as you looked up at the sky, a massive male with wings descended gracefully, his broad shoulders and muscular build making him appear more imposing. He was handsome- strikingly so- and you found yourself momentarily speechless.

“Are you Y/n?” he asked, his voice deep yet calm, though he raised an eyebrow at your wide-eyed stare.

“I- uh, yes, I am” you stammered, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you realized you’d been staring.

“Cassian” he introduced himself, extending his hand to you with a charming grin. “Nice to meet you” When you didn’t immediately react, his expression shifted to confusion “Are you alright?”

“Sorry” you quickly shook his hand, feeling the strength in his grip as warmth flooded your cheeks again. “I’m just nervous. This is my first time traveling alone”.

He chuckled “That’s alright. Come on, let’s go” he said, extending his hand once more, this time to help you as he prepared to take flight.

You hesitated for only a moment, before placing your hand in his, feeling the calluses of a warrior on his palm. His wings stretched wide as he effortlessly lifted you into the sky.

Arriving at the House of Wind, you saa Feyre waiting with the rest of the Inner Circle. Your heart lightened at the sight of your friend, but as you approached, a winged male with a more intimidating presence stepped in front of her, his gaze sharp.

“Az, that’s not necessary” Feyre said, stepping past him and wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug.

“She could be a spy for all we know” Rhysand added, his tone casual, yet assessing.

“You promised me you’d behave” Feyre turned and gave her mate a pointed look.

“I- I’m not, I’m not a spy” you stammered, your voice faltering as you tried to defend yourself, feeling your cheeks flush under Rhysand’s scrutiny.

Feyre smiled warmly at you “It’s alright, don’t worry about them. They can be mean to strangers sometimes” she reassured you, her hand gently squeezing yours.

“Hey, not all of us” Cassian chimed in with a playful grin, earning an eye roll from Feyre.

“Are you joining us for dinner, my lady?” Cassian asked, his voice carrying a teasing lilt as his eyes flicked to yours.

“I- uhm” you looked at Feyre, uncertain if you were welcome to stay that long.

“Of course she is. You are, right? You’ve come a long way, you must stay the night” Feyre insisted.

“I-” you wanted to object but seeing Feyre all hopeful, you relented “alright, but I have to leave early in the morning”.

—

While most of the IC remained distant, Feyre and, surprisingly, Cassian were friendly, making you feel more comfortable. Cassian in particular seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say.

“Even if relations weren’t strained, I would not be able to enjoy the Spring Court” Cassian remarked, his tone casual as he leaned back in his chair.

You turned to him, a slight frown tugging at your lips “Oh! And why is that?”

“I have an allergy” he admitted with a half-smile, causing Feyre to chuckle softly.

“That must be horrible… you must really hate flowers, then?” You asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

He shrugged with a small grin “I don’t hate them. I just can’t be near them. I do enjoy observing them, though. There’s something about appreciating beauty that you can never have”.

“Since when are you a poet?” Rhys teased, earning a sharp glare from Cassian.

Cassian tried to quickly divert your attention “What’s your favorite flower?”

“Uhm, I do like many flowers. After all, they’re unique in their own way. But if I must choose, then y/f/f. What about you?”.

Cassian grinned awkwardly “Me? My favorite flower is also y/f/f. What a coincidence!” he chuckled, clearly lying but trying to play it off.

The evening continued pleasantly, and talking to Cassian made you forget about the tension and your worries. You didn’t want the night to end, but eventually it had to.

Cassian volunteered to escort you to the quarters you were staying in for the night. As the two of you walked down the dimly lit hallway, the air between you shifted. Silence hung heavy for longer than you had hoped, the only sounds being your footsteps echoing in the corridor.

Cassian glanced sideways at you, his lips parting slightly before he finally broke the silence “Will you be coming back soon?”

You hesitated, lowering your gaze to the floor as you walked“Oh, I don’t know. Your friends didn’t seem too keen on having me here.”

Cassian gently bumped your shoulder with his “Don’t worry about them. They’ll come around. Besides, Feyre was happy to see you… and I was glad to meet you” he admitted, his voice growing quieter at the last part.

You finally looked up, meeting his gaze “Really? You don’t think I’m Tamlin’s spy? Here to tell him everything about you?” you teased.

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head “No, Y/n. I don’t believe you’re a spy” he said softly, a subtle, almost shy smile playing on his lips.

You sighed, your smile fading as you reminded him “I still have my duties, just like you have yours.”

Cassian’s expression tightened briefly, his brow furrowing as he spoke again “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you” his hand twitched at his side, as though he wanted to reach for you but stopped himself.

“No, no. It’s fine. I’d like to come back soon” you reassured him quickly, offering a soft smile in return.

Cassian’s face brightened at your words, his eyes gleaming with hope “And I’d love that very much”.

“I believe this is my room” you averted his gaze again.

“Right, yes. Yes, it is. I bid you goodnight” he stepped back slightly, clearing his throat.

“Goodnight, Cassian” you whispered, lingering for a moment before closing the door behind you. As it clicked shut, you felt a spark ignite your heart, an unfamiliar lingering in your chest.

—

It had been a while since your last visit, and when Cassian heard you were coming, he couldn’t hide his excitement.

This time, Rhys insisted on picking you up, leaving Cassian a little disappointed. He paced the living area of the House of Wind, his wings twitching with nervous energy as he impatiently awaited your arrival. Every minute that passed seemed like an eternity.

“They’re taking too long, don’t you think?” Cassian turned abruptly to Azriel, who leaned casually against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, watching his brother with a knowing smirk.

“Relax, Cassian. They’ll be here any minute now. What has gotten into you?” Azriel smirked, knowing exactly why his brother was behaving this way, yet he decided to tease him.

Cassian huffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration “Nothing. I- I- it just, you know how Rhys can be. What if he threatened her and she decided to go back?” his voice held a slight edge of panic as he considered every possible worst-case scenario.

“You worry too much, brother. I don’t think Rhys is going to threaten her. After all, she is Feyre’s friend. He’ll treat her as such… but with caution, of course. She does work for Tamlin” Azriel reminded.

Just then, you stepped into the room, awkwardly waving, with Rhysand close behind you “Hey.” Cassian’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of you and he found himself staring.

Azriel gave a polite nod, while Cassian blinked, finally snapping out of his daze.

“It’s been a while” you said with a smile, trying to ease the tension.

“Far too long” Cassian replied quickly, his words coming out in a rush. “I- I mean Feyre missed you. She wondered when you’d be back”.

“Was it Feyre or you, Cassian? Because I do recall you asking her every day if Y/n was coming soon” Rhys exposed him and you chuckled.

Cassian’s face flushed, and he stammered “I- it’s- I” He couldn’t find an excuse fast enough.

“I have something for you” you approached him and offered him y/f/f in a glass container “this way you can have it without your allergy acting up”.

Cassian’s eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red “You actually brought me y/f/f. This is brilliant. Thank you” he said, his voice flustered as he took the gift, holding it like it was the most precious thing he’d ever received.

Rhys, ever the instigator, smirked again “I believe this is the first time I’ve seen you blush, Cas”.

“Shut up. You’re just jealous you didn’t get a flower” Cassian shot back with a playful shrug. You shook your head, smiling to yourself. For scary males, they certainly acted like children. It was not what you imagined at all.

Time passed, and your visits to the Night Court became more frequent. What began as excuses to see Feyre evolved into something else- you found yourself coming back for Cassian. You timed your visits for moments you knew Feyre would be busy, relishing the chance to spend more time alone with him. Your friendship deepened, but neither of you dared to speak of the feelings that lingered beneath the surface.

This all changed one day, as the two of you strolled by the riverbank. Cassian noticed something different about you- your usual joy was absent, and the weight of something unsaid hung in the air.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, stopping in his tracks.

You stiffened at his question, turning your face away to avoid his gaze “Why would you think anything is wrong?” you snapped defensively.

Cassian’s expression softened with concern. He placed hus hands gently on your upper arms, forcing you to stop walking. His grip was light but steady as he tilted his head down to meet your eyes. “We’ve known each other for almost a year now. I think I know when something is bothering you” he said quietly, his voice laced with tenderness.

You winced at his touch, the sudden sound not going unnoticed. Cassian’s eyes narrowed as he lowered his gaze to your arm, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your sleeve “Y/n, what is wrong?” his eyes began scanning your body, searching for any sign of injury.

“It- it’s nothing. Let’s just go” you stammered, stepping back slightly. You knew that if he found out, this wasn’t going to end well.

“No. Stop, please. Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Don't shut me out” he begged, his eyes searching yours for any clue.

“It really is nothing. I just bumped into the wall” you lied and knew he wouldn’t believe it.

Cassian’s jaw clenched as he raised his hand toward the top of your sleeve, fingers lightly grazing your shoulder. “May I?” he asked, his voice gentle, but his eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. You nodded reluctantly, and he carefully lowered the fabric, revealing the dark bruise on your upper arm.

“Y/n, this isn’t from bumping into a wall, is it?” his voice was dangerously calm.

“Let it be, Cassian.” You whispered, pulling your sleeve back up as you turned away.

“This is Tamlin’s work, isn’t it?” his voice trembled with barely restrained fury, and you could see him struggling to keep his emotions in check.

You sighed, unable to deny it. “And what if it was?”

Cassian’s nostrils flared, his jaw clenching so tightly you could almost hear the grind of his teeth “That fucking monster. I’m going to kill him” he hissed, his wings twitching in agitation behind him.

You immediately stepped forward, placing a hand on his chest to stop him. “You can’t!”

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t”.

“I owe him my life” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Not anymore, you don’t. Not after what he’s done to you. Not after you’ve endured all these years by his side.”

Your throat tightened, and you shook your head, trying to make him understand “You don’t understand. Tamlin is not the monster you think he is. He didn’t do it on purpose, alright? He had one of his outbursts, a moment of rage. He didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“Now you’re finding excuses for him? He doesn’t deserve your love and kindness.” He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek gently.

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch just for a moment before pulling away “That is for me to decide.”

“You can’t see it, can you? He is abusive. Look at what he did to Feyre. What he’s done to you. You say it was an accident, but what happens next time? What happens the next time he loses control? He needs to be stopped”.

“Please, you can’t go” you begged again, your voice breaking. You placed a hand on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles.

“Why not?”

“You will disrupt the peace between the courts.”

“To hell with peace. I don’t care about any of that. He.Hurt.You.”

You reached up, cupping his face to calm him “Please, Cassian. If you're not going to do it for peace, then for my sake.”

Cassian’s eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into your touch, his shoulders sagging slightly Z the weight of his anger began to subside. He placed his hand over yours, holding it against his cheek as he exhaled slowly. “Alright, I won’t do anything. But you can’t go back to him.”

You shook your head slowly, knowing this was the moment you had been dreading “I have to.” You pulled your hand away from his cheek, stepping back.

Cassian reached for you instinctively, his hand grasping your arm gently as if to stop you “No, please don’t.”

You swallowed hard, the tears finally spilling over as you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. The world seemed to stop as his breath hitched, and his hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer. He kissed you back, his lips warm and tender against yours. One of his hands moved to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, as if trying to hold onto this moment for as long as he could.

When you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “Please stay” he whispered against your lips, his voice raw with emotion.

You closed your eyes, wanting nothing more than to say yes, but knowing you could ‘t. “I can’t.” You whispered, stepping back. His hands lingered on your waist before finally falling to his sides. “I must leave. I think it’s a good idea that I don’t visit for a while” you said, your heart breaking with every word.

“What? No, no. If it is because of what I said, then I’m sorry. I just-”.

You placed a hand on his cheek again, cutting him off gently. “Hey, it has nothing to do with you… I’ve been spending a lot of time here lately, that I’ve neglected my duties back home.” This was one way of saying it. The truth was, Tamlin started to get jealous that you were spending more time with Feyre at the Night Court. He felt left out and that triggered his fit of rage. But of course, you couldn’t tell Cassian that. So the best thing to do was to stop your visits for a while…or forever.