#like - I'm there - but I'm not really there yet bc its not fully set up but... yh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lucimaaie · 3 months ago

Text

left behind ✧.* spiderwoman au

pairings - ellie williams x fem!reader

summary - with ellie preoccupied with the city, your relationship suffers.

warnings - had to put this in that ao3 font just to finish it but i did it, angst no comfort (i'm srry), 3k word count almost 4k, still kinda short tho, was kinda battling writers block so be aware, loosely proofread, very dramatic bc i was bored, r is having a bad day :((

playlist | spidey masterlist

“You didn’t think to tell me you had this?” Ellie was exasperated, leaning against the counter as the orb stared back at her. Taunting her.

“I..Ellie, this thing came out of you.” You’d hoped the words were enough to settle the conflict you felt brewing. You knew it wasn’t. “Do you really think I wanted to talk about it?”

Ellie scoffed. “You at least could’ve told me,” She picked it up with her gloved fingers. Having no regard for safety like you with your layers of gloves plus the tongs just to put it in the dish sitting in front of you. “Would’ve helped me figure out how a bunch of assholes got their hands on superpowered guns.”

“Well, blame it on me then.” You said through a deep sigh, crossing your arms. You wanted to be mad. To tell her she was being completely unreasonable and stormed off. Yet the droop of her eyes and the tenseness in her arms made it impossible; She looked too tired to argue, to fight back.

“Not what I meant,” The forceful push of air from her lips almost echoed in the quiet apartment. She used the counter to brace herself, still not taking her eyes off the neon orb. She stared at it like it could move the moment she blinked.

“Yeah, I know.” The words came out mumbled as you approached her, coming up behind her. “I know,” The texture of her suit was surprisingly soft despite its markings. Tickling your fingertips as you squeezed her shoulders. The tension in them was tangible. “What are you thinking?”

Ellie didn’t respond. The stretch of her arm to grab the small dish was the only indication she was still in the moment. Closer inspection didn’t ease the frown off her face or the tension in her shoulders. “I just..need to figure out what this thing is,”

“Okay,” You whispered. “How about a shower first?” You suggested softly, prying the orb from her hands and setting it down. “Yeah?”

Without her sight, she seemed to have more attention to give you, her face softening as she laid her eyes on you. You were right. Her limbs were weaker than she wanted to admit. Combine that with the adrenaline and confusing mix of irritation and anxiety, and she was a complete and utter mess. “Yeah,” She relented.

To say you lost Ellie to a tiny blue orb was embarrassing to say the least. And painful, but that was a thought you didn’t want to fully unpack. It was enough to reach out and grip cold sheets each morning for the past few weeks.

She seemed to be around in small shifts: Awake when you were asleep, away when you were awake. The most you’d laid your eyes on her was when she was suiting up and getting ready to get back on the streets. To make things worse, your parents had started to ask questions and you had no good truth to tell them.

And you knew you couldn’t complain. That was the worst part. What a bitch you would be to complain about your world-saving girlfriend not being around.

A knock to the door was not what you expected. Seeing your parents was doubly unexpected. You thought your sunny texts and short placating phone calls would be enough.

“Coming!” You yelled, scrambling to make your living room not look like you’d been camping out in it for the past few hours. They were starting to get impatient as you swept the crumbs off your dining table and gathered handfuls of empty chip bags to throw away. You sighed heavily, looking at the state of your kitchen. Deciding it would just have to be fine, you finally answered the door.

“Ma, Pa. You didn’t tell me you were coming to visit.” The two practically pushed themselves in, setting plastic containers of food on the counters. The two were too presentable just to be in the dirty kitchen of your small apartment. They shared a look you couldn’t decipher after glancing around the decor of your combined living room and kitchen. Though, they didn’t have to speak for you to feel the judgement. “I’m..sorry for the mess,”

“We would’ve called, but we were..around anyway.”

You furrowed your brows, knowing that was a bold face lie. This was the first time they’d ever been here since helping you move in and it was clear they were not in love with what you and Ellie did with the place. “Yeah?”

Your mom hummed. You looked to your dad unsurprised to see him going along with your mom’s unbelievable excuse. You knew better to go fishing for the truth so bluntly.

“Well, I won’t say no to free dinner.” You busied yourself with putting the food up, hopefully avoiding their awkward attempt to avoid what they were really here for.

“So, where’s Ellie?” Your dad asked.

Ah, the golden question. You wondered that yourself. “She’s at work. The..internship”

It didn’t take a mind reader to know they didn’t believe you. Maybe, two weeks ago, when your excuses were fresh to the ears.

“At an internship you’d think they’d give her some off days.” Your mom remarked, moving leisurely into the living room. She was careful in sitting her purse down on the coffee table. It was a wonder she’d made no comments about how you could brighten up the room. She was trying at the least. Your dad on the other hand wore his intentions on his sleeve in his firm and pensive expression.

“She volunteered for as much as possible,” The words fell off your tongue with ease as you filled up a kettle and set it on the front eye of the stove. You opted to stay close to it, instead of checking to see if they took the lie well. “She’s just trying to get ahead of things before graduation.”

Your parents mumbled their own versions of praise for the absent girl. It soon grew quiet, neither of you having anything useful to say. The awkwardness reminded you of the stern talking to’s you’d been subjected to when you got anything lower than a B on a report card. That was the worst thing you’d done as a kid. What would they say if they knew you were covering for Ellie’s vigilantism?

“Did Ellie ever find her family? At the attack a few weeks ago?” Your dad finally spoke, his deep voice filling the cramped space. His features were firm, almost daring you to lie again. But you weren’t one of his suspects. You wouldn’t crumble.

You turned around, giving the kettle a break from your stare. “Mhm.” You took slow steps into the living room and sat at the edge of the coffee table. “They were stuck in traffic so far back, they weren’t targeted.”

Another round of “that’s good’s” and the tension was back on. “Listen,” Your dad started, his firm demeanor softening into something almost nervous. The way your mom silently assured him only made you more afraid for his revelation. “I wanted to reach out to her folks and check on em and..”

“And?”

“They don’t..they’re gone. She has no living family left.” He said gingerly.

Even having known the fact, it still made your heart clench as much as when you first told her. You had been careful to keep your reaction subtle, knowing pity wasn’t what she wanted from you. “She..” You started, the reminder catching you in a lie she mindlessly told. “She was talking about her Aunt and Un—“

They didn’t wait for another one of your lies to speak. “They live in Jackson. Wyoming.” Your father stated matter of factly.

You sputtered in search of another excuse, but you had nothing left. He knew more than you were hoping he did. He knew nothing of what Ellie had told you in whispers and short confessions, he knew what was documented on paper. “You did a background check,” Your words were mumbled, barely containing your irritation. The betrayal made your blood run hot, mixing with the anger at being left neglected, and making a scolding combination bubble up through your veins.

Your mom rushed in to desolate the impending argument. “We just want you to be aware, baby.”

“I am.” You snapped, rising to your feet. The temporary difference in height gave you confidence to let your anger loose. “I’m aware enough to know you’re lying about why you’re really here.” Your arms were tightly crossed, your own nails digging into your skin.

“We’re looking out for you,” Your dad stood, defensiveness triggered by what he perceived was your displaced anger for the loving parents that were trying to protect you.

“By doing a background check on my girlfriend,” You affirmed, your voice raised on the thin verge of yelling. “What the hell?”

“Watch it,” Your father said, placing his hands on his hips. That firm warning would’ve been enough to make you eat your words and run up to your room. “By looking at the situation with an open mind.”

You scoffed, walking off to check on the boiling water for tea you barely wanted to offer anymore. You didn’t want them to stay and continue to shit on your relationship. Not when you were feeling insecure about it yourself. “What situation?”

“How’d she really get shot?”

“What?” You turned around to face them, face contorted in a mix of confusion and deepening irritation. They were getting more and more outrageous with their assumptions and you were just barely keeping your tone respectful.

“The story she gave us doesn’t make sense,” Your mom said, her voice firm yet gentle. “You can’t blame us for thinking something’s wrong—“

“Not when you’re fishing for something wrong,” You reached over the stove to flick the knob the other way and take the kettle off the scalding eye. “Nothing is wrong, okay? So just trust me on that,” You could barely process what you were doing while you were fuming like this. That was until you felt the overwhelming burn on your palm. “Shit–”

“Are you okay? Your mom was by your side as you pulled your hand away from the hot metal. Your dad already had the faucet running with lukewarm water.

The burning softened into an achy feel in the skin that was already starting to blister. You rushed to the sink to drown the burn in water. The pain had your eyes filling with tears. You bit your lip, swallowing down a sob. Now was not the time to break down. “M’fine, just..go.”

They didn’t move. At the sight of tears, the firmness fell from your father’s face. You didn’t want to see it.

“Go,” You said louder. "Please?"

It was deathly quiet as the two made a slow, concerned exit. The sight of your hand blurred as hot tears ran down your face. The ache only gave you another reason to crumble.

The ache in your hand hadn’t stopped even after a few hours. Painkillers dulled the feeling, leaving it up to painful reminders of the injury.

You had tried to busy yourself with cleaning up the pigsty that was your apartment, but nothing you did calmed you down from the earlier argument with your parents. Fighting was never something you liked doing. The aftermath was even worse. Your stubbornness had come from the very couple you’d argue with and your relationship would most likely be at a stalemate until one side caved. However long that’d take.

Yet another relationship in limbo.

Preoccupied with your thoughts, you’d barely heard Ellie come in. Even when she hadn't come in ranting you could sense she’d made it home. Now, she hadn’t even gotten a remark about tracking dirt into the house. You didn’t have it in you.

“Hey,” Ellie breathily greeted you as she pulled off her hood and mask and padded into your bedroom to change.

“Hm? Oh, hi.” You wrung out the dish towel, ignoring the pressure against your scared palm. The splatter of the runoff filled the space between you. “How was..” You turned around, watching Ellie down a glass of water in a set of clean pajamas.

“Fine,” She scratched her brow. “How was— What happened?” She pushed herself off the counter to turn to grab your hand, inspecting the injury. Her brows furrowed at the sight of your patchy bandage work done with some leftover gauze from her old discharge kit.

“Nothing,” You mumbled. Her concern should’ve been heartwarming considering the growing distance. Though, it only made you tug your hand from hers. You mindlessly began to wipe the counters.

“Well something did.” Her eyes followed you despite the lack of eye contact from you. The action only made her more suspicious. She couldn’t help it. She had woken up thinking about how much damage superpowered criminals brung onto the city while she rested. It felt like her brain was wired for only that purpose, leaving her barely any time to tend to you.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe it’s fine,” You mumbled, rounding the island to the sink.

Ellie frowned. Your passive-aggression wasn’t lost on her nor was the current state of your relationship. She hadn’t been here long enough to see you get up and fix coffee, much less to see how you hurt yourself. She thought she could just..make it up to you once this was all over. Shitty, but she had to think of some way to balance the two. You were having none of that.

“Then..what do you want to talk about?” She asked quietly, taking tentative steps behind you. Her hands itched to wrap around your waist and press her thumb between your brows to soothe the irritated frown you wore. Instead, she rung her hands together, hoping the pressure would distract her.

“I don’t know, Ellie.” That was a lie. Other times, you wished for her to come home so you could talk her ear off about nothing in particular. When your parents had gone out the door, you wished she was here to listen. Sometimes you took to your memories, thinking of the times you would pass time debating over things that didn’t really matter. Now? You said a total of 15 words to each other a day.

You wrung out the towel again, softly grunting at the throbbing in your palm. “You know what? I lied.” You turned around, gripping the counter as tight as your hands would allow. “I’m pissed. Like, beyond pissed and I feel like I’m..crazy for it. I mean, you’re a hero. You’re out helping people every day and I’m pissed I can’t have anything upwards of five minutes with you. Yeah, the city’s important. I get that. Believe me, I do, but aren’t I—?”

“What? You know you are.” Ellie leaned against the counter, replying exasperatedly. Ironically, now the weight of the day started to be a bother now. She had done enough to make her shoulders ache by just raising her arms. She didn’t want to think about arguing with you.

“I sure as hell don’t feel like it.” You huffed, starting to clean the sink furiously. “And I don’t like that my parents are starting to have doubts either—“

“What?” Her whole body seemed to perk up at that, tiredness being replaced with dread and uneasiness. Ellie knew she hadn’t exactly been the biggest social butterfly but she thought she’d done okay. Minus the leaving-dinner-to-go crime-fighting part.

“They know you’re not around.” You threw the towel into the sink, flexing your hand to ease the pain. “I guess my excuses weren’t good enough.” You left her alone in the kitchen and sat on the couch. The lack of productivity only seemed to make you more tense granted by the way your leg bounces uncontrollably. You practically lunged for the painkillers and attempted to open it. “Still doesn’t make what they did right— Shit.” You threw the bottle away and rested your head in your palm.

Ellie watched the scene with conflicted eyes. She wanted to help you. She should’ve been in here in the first place to prevent any of this from happening. She had never wanted to make you so unhappy. She sat next to you gingerly, grabbing the bottle and making two pills fall into her palm. She tentatively held her hand out to you.

You took them, reaching for the water when she grabbed it for you. You snatched it from her despite the immediate guilt bubbling in your gut. This was happening for a reason. You were right to be mad, right? You couldn’t tell. The pills went down easy, though that did nothing to ease the tension in your jaw. “Is this how it’s gonna be?”

She didn’t have to ask to know what you meant. “No.”

“No.” You parroted back as you turned back to look at her. “Really?”

Ellie didn’t meet your eyes, purposefully concerning herself with an insignificant spot on the floor guiltily, shielding herself from your annoyance. “It’s not always gonna be like this. I’m trying, okay? I swear, I’ll be all yours after I figure this out–”

“And I’m just supposed to wait here?” You mumbled, threading your fingers through your hair to the point where they got tangled.

“Look, this isn’t forever.” Ellie scooted closer to you, clueless as to how to comfort you in this moment. Usually, she knew exactly what to do, how to hold and console whenever you got this stressed, but now she had nothing. Her words of assurance were empty and as tired as she was and her presence only seemed to be aggravating your stress at this point. Was it terrible that she wished someone needed her right now?

“What if it is?” You blurted, roughly untangling your hair from your fingers and raising your head.

“It’s not.” Ellie denied quickly, agitated that you were even thinking that. “It’s not.” She said softer this time. Her hand reached out to pry your arms from their crossed state, despite the rising fear of you pushing her away. Surprised you didn't, she quickly acted on the opportunity and took your hand in hers, rubbing patterns on the back of your hand.

“But what if it is?” You insisted, struggling to keep your ground in the face of the infection. There was a part of you who hated the argument. That thought you should’ve shut up and left it alone, enjoy this time you had with her. The other part couldn’t stand the thought of letting it fester only for it to result in something bigger than just an argument. “Whether I like it or not you’ll always have the city on your back.”

Ellie took in a long sigh and exhaled audibly. Her grip on your tightened as if you would snatch your hand away at any moment and walk out the door, tired of waiting and tired of being left behind for the strangers of New York.

“You’re a hero. I know that and I-I love that about you. I just..” You huffed, already regretting the admission on the tip of your tongue. “I didn’t think it would feel so..lonely.”

The words stung. Ellie knew she was being stretched ten different ways across the city in one summer alone. She’d gotten so comfortable with wearing the mask that she hadn’t thought about what she was leaving behind. Her throat was dangerously dry as she fixed her lip to speak. She thought about apologizing, making it up to you with some grand gesture, but that'd only be a patch fix. “So..what do you wanna do?”

“I don’t know.” You stood, grabbing your jacket off the hook near the door and slipping it on.

Ellie was on her feet before she could process it. The sight of you getting ready to leave had her mind jumping to all kinds of illogical conclusions. She watched your movement with unwavering focus, like a puppy dreading their owner's departure. “Where are you going?” The words came out rushed in spite of her attempts to sound calm.

“On a walk.” You intoned, twisting the doorknob and slipping out the door. Catching a glance of her disheartened state. She looked a mess, drowning in oversized clothes and sweaty strands that had no regard for where they ended up. She’d thought you were already gone based on how she’d withdrawn, pacing languidly with a pensive expression that told you her mind was already running miles with the worst outcomes.

“I’m coming back.” You assured her, or tried to at least.

Her head perked up, relieved to see you still there. She looked down, inwardly reminding herself she was still in the doghouse. “I know.” She whispered, pulling her lips into a thin line.

With one last look, you closed the door and headed out of the building and out onto the streets.

You had no idea how long it had been since you left. Desperate to flee the tense scene, you had forgotten your phone and wallet. Though the empty space in your pockets allowed an ample space for your hands to occupy, so you hadn’t complained. You’d get home soon enough, right?

Your mind became too preoccupied with justifying everything said in the past hour to support your directional problem and soon you became lost. It all seemed to add up. First, your parents, then the burn, picking a fight with Ellie, and now you were lost. Everything seemed to come together to make your day as equally as shitty as you felt. It only seemed right to allow yourself the time to sulk.

The bench beneath you had gone warm with your temperature, leaving the spot next to you as cold as the midnight air. Your sweatpants had become littered with barely dried imprints of teardrops. There was no denying you were a sad sight.

But you weren’t looking for comfort. Today was just..an irritatingly challenging day. Tomorrow would be normal.

“Don’t move.” Tomorrow became a past thought as you felt cold metal press to your temple. It didn’t take long to register what it was. Your hands immediately went up despite the impulse to wipe the evidence of vulnerability painted on your face. You knew better. Though you were sure, whoever was behind you could feel your heart beating seemingly outside your body.

“What do you want?” No response. “What do you want?” You demanded, response coming as a hard whack to the back of your head. The ache was immediate, blurring your vision and only stoking the flames of confusion, panic, and anger all huddled up inside you. Before you could muster up a response, your hair was grabbed, making your head fall back.

“Look up,” There was a robotic quality in the voice behind you, only confusing you further. It was soon solved as your head was moved to allow a flying creature in the sky into your view. You strained to see him, the ache making it hard to focus on anything. Your eyes widened once it became clear what you were seeing. A regular man surrounded by enough tech to make him hover in the air without a single worry of falling. That was all you were allowed sight of until another blow made everything fade into black.

thank you for reading!

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x y/n #ellie x you

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alottiegoingon · 1 year ago

Text

but i'm a cheerleader

jackie taylor x fem!reader

summary: where reader is a cheerleader and jackie taylor is the football captain

warnings: jackie being too obvious and reader too oblivious, characters are aged up, 90's but no homophobia cause its pride month and bc i can, really cheesy and lots of fluff, not proofread

a year ago, when you made the decision to try out for the cheerleading team, you had no inkling of the repercussions that would follow. you were uncertain if cheerleading was the right thing for you, especially considering the many sexist comments aimed at the girls. yet, it would look quite good on your college application.

neither extremely popular nor a complete loner, you were content with your close-knit group of friends. however, everything shifted once you joined the team. suddenly, you found yourself the center of attention in the hallways, drawing looks of both amusement and envy, a situation you still hadn't fully adjusted to.

one person in particular seemed more entranced by you: jackie taylor. the football team captain constantly had her eyes on you. no matter where you were—be it the cafeteria, by your locker in the morning, or during class—you would eventually see her watching you, prompting you to quickly look away after making eye contact.

thinking it couldn’t get any worse, you were stunned to find jackie gazing at you from the bleachers during cheerleading practice. you nearly caused the entire pyramid of girls to collapse, resulting in numerous angry stares from the others and a lecture from the coach.

you were starting to suspect that there was something wrong with your face!

⚽︎

"this is getting really weird, i swear, tai," you blurt out as soon as you sit down beside your friend at lunch. after setting your tray on the table, you take a sip of orange juice and tune into your friends' discussion.

"you're overthinking it," your friend, van, steps in, swiping an apple from your tray, "it's jackie. she's harmless."

"right! except every time i look at her, she's staring right back at me. maybe she just hates me," you reply, trying to retrieve your apple but getting a slap on your hand instead.

"hate you?" lottie scoffs, "she's like butt-crazy for you. i bet she writes your name with hearts all around it. no wonder she's terrible at french."

that was an actual good argument. jackie was really bad and hearing her attemps of speaking french was torture. still, it would make absolute zero sense. jackie taylor was popular, stunning and smart and the fact that she was the captain only added to that. she was probably memorizing your flaws to make fun of you with her friends.

⚽︎

seeing your coach step onto the field with coach martinez, the one in charge of your friend’s, and jackie’s, football team, made your heart sink. you’d experienced this before, back when the schedule became so tight that they had to combine cheerleaders and jocks.

a really, really, really bad idea.

the field was huge, yet it still felt too small to avoid jackie’s piercing glare. the worst part wasn’t your constant stumbling and tripping over your own feet and the others', but the relentless urge to look back at her.

from the other side of the field, the girls’ taunts directed at jackie reached your ears, and you knew it was because of you. you weren't the only one to notice her stares.

“careful not to slip, jackie,” van teased, their breathy and tired voice not hindering them from poking fun while playing on opposite teams for practice. she chased jackie, trying to swipe the ball while gesturing to the ground.

“what? where?” jackie stopped and looked down, not wanting to slip in front of you, giving van just enough time to snatch the ball.

“on your own drool,” their joke made the entire team laugh, and even from a distance, you could see jackie’s face turn red, speechless.

what a dweeb, you thought, even if you were also smiling at the oddly funny moment moment.

⚽︎

despite all the teasing and awkward moments, you couldn't deny that jackie's constant attention was doing a number on your nerves. you couldn't decide if you liked it or not, if she hated you or not, if you should confront her or not. one way or another, she wasn't discreet at all.

in the very next saturday, your phone rang with tai's voice, inviting to a party. you hesitated for a moment, maybe a party was just what you needed to get your mind off things but, at the same time, it would be too naive of you to imagine that the thing you were fighting to avoid wasn't going to be in there as well

as you arrived at the place, you noticed the usual crowd already mingling. music blared, voices echoed, and the familiar scent of pizza, soda and alcohol filled the air. a very weird mix, you'd say.

you tried to relax, but your eyes instinctively scanned the room, searching for jackie. it didn't take long to find her. she was in the corner with a group of friends, a jacket draped over her shoulder and a pretty dress catching your eye. but you didn't want to cross her way, at least not now.

"someone's looking at you," lottie's voice linger in your ears, scaring you away from all the jackie taylor's thoughts inside your head.

"hi, lot," you ignore her words, not daring to look in the opposite direction, "i don't know what you're talking about."

"oh, come on, don't be so boring. jackie’s been staring at you all night."

you rolled your eyes, trying to focus on your drink and the conversation around you, but the weight of jackie's gaze was impossible to ignore. you stole a glance in her direction, only to find her quickly looking away, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

"seriously, what's her deal?" you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else.

lottie chuckles, "she likes you, duh. everyone knows it except you."

before you could respond, your other friends joined your little circle, a mischievous glint in their eyes. "so, are you finally going to talk to her or just keep pretending you don’t notice her staring?"

you sighed, feeling cornered. "I don't know. what if she hates me?"

"you are so complicated," tai groans, arm resting over van's shoulder, "just go find out!"

with a deep breath, you decided to take their advice. you just had to be confident.

instead of walking straight to jackie, you made your way over to the drinks table, trying to appear casual. she was close by and you figured grabbing a drink might be a discreet way to approach her. if it was too awkward, another word for 'if you were too much of a coward, you could just back off.

as you reached for a cup, your hands shook slightly. not only you had accidentally knocked over a few cups but also spilled soda all over the counter and the floor. the noise drew everyone's attention, including hers.

great, you thought, just what you needed.

before you could react, jackie stepped in, grabbing some napkins to help you clean up. her proximity made your heart race even more.

"you okay?" she asked, her voice gentle and concerned, wiping the counter around you. at least she wasn't judging you.

"yeah, thanks," you mumbled, feeling your cheeks burn. you could barely talk or breath at that moment, too stunned it even took you an extra second to help her clean up your mess.

noticing your jitter, as you both cleaned up, jackie glanced at you. "this party's pretty wild, huh?"

you offer her a nervous grin as she hands you a clean cup. "right, i guess people really like the weekends."

"absolutely. and they're probably too stressed with ms. jamison class. four pages in a day? that woman crazy," jackie's gaze softened as she glanced at you, attempting to ease the tension between you.

"what about her hair? she looks like she's stuck in the 70's," you added, feeling a peculiar flutter in your stomach as a tender giggle escaped from her lips.

the two of you stood there, the awkwardness lingering in the air like a heavy fog as the sound of your laughter slowly faded into silence.

"i gotta say, though, this wasn't what i had in mind when i decided to come here tonight," you admit, reaching a hand to grab a drink, being much more careful this time.

she looked up, her eyes locking onto yours. "and what was your plan?"

you hesitated for a moment, then blurted out,"honestly? trying to dodge you and those pretty eyes of yours that seem to follow me everywhere."

a look of surprise flashed across jackie's face, her eyebrows shooting up and her eyes widening briefly before she couldn't hold back a snicker.

"it's not funny, jackie," you interrupted her giggle,"why do you keep staring at me all the time? do you hate me or what?"

as your confusion amused her further, her grin widened. could she be any more obvious? "hate you? no, not at all. It's the opposite, actually."

you frowned, puzzled. "what do you mean?"

drawing nearer, jackie's gaze held an earnestness that sent a flutter through your chest. "i like you. a lot," you stole a glance downwards, observing her fingers twisting nervously. she seemed as jittery as you now. "i just didn't know how to tell you. and I guess I was too scared to find out if you felt the same."

her confession left you at a loss for words for a moment, this wasn't something you had prepared for. "so, you... like me?"

jackie nodded, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "yeah, i do. i thought i was being clear about that."

it all fell into place in an instant—the lingering looks, the nervousness, the way she seemed to be everywhere you were. feeling a warmth spread through you, you couldn't help but smile back. "i gotta say, that explains a lot."

jackie's laughter echoed softly, easing the tension in the room. "sorry, i just didn't know how to handle it."

you paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts. confident enough, you spoke up, "maybe we can figure it out together."

jackie's eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "i'd really like that."

#i love her shes so silly #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #jackie taylor x reader

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melodic-haze · 11 months ago

Note

Can I ask for a sub Jade x fem reader? Jade is so cocky and self-confident thinking that she will dominate the relationship, but reader puts her in her place by taking her to the extreme Thank you in advance and have a nice day!💕

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Jade x dom!afab!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: None? A lot of biting?? Does that count???? Rough sex in general

☆ — NOTES: To celebrate getting Jade I am writing about scissoring her she CANNOT escape me. As per usual I wrote this at the dead of night so if nothing makes sense then 🤷‍♀️

It's so funny, dating Jade, bc she's so self-assured of anything and everything—no matter how risky a deal may be, it's as if she has it all figured out.. and really, she probably does. That confidence transfers over to her general personality ofc which. Aha 💀 goodness

She's definitely convinced herself that she was going to take the lead for every single thing, taking care of you and punishing you if you deserve such treatment. She already does so in her daily life, what's a relationship with someone so precious as you make a difference?

A lot, she goes on to realise sooner or later when you have your first time together LOL

"So eager, aren't you," she practically coos at you as she steps further into the secluded room, taking off her hat and placing it carefully on the vanity.

"What, you rather I wasn't?"

"Now, I didn't say that." The pink-haired woman let out a soft laugh, "I would like to give you credit where credit is due, however, for waiting to get inside the bedroom rather than pulling me into the next available alley you find."

A huff slipped past your upturned lips, your eyes scanning every inch of your lover—who you once thought was unattainable without a hefty price, much like such precious gems are, is now standing in front of you at the foot of the bed with a not-so-innocent twinkle in her slitted eyes.

"I wouldn't dare have our first time together in some random setting," you simply say, "a lady should be treated as such.. and I wouldn't want to break you where everyone could see. Not yet, anyway."

That gained Jade's attention, her hand halting to a stop before she could slowly remove her singular glove. "Oh? I was under the assumption that I would have to take care of you, sweetheart. Unless you think that I can't leave you more than satisfied?" She walks up to you as she speaks, tracing your skin with a manicured nail before gently grasping onto your hand, "Because I assure you that I never leave my clients with the feeling of.. incompletion."

"One problem with that statement."

"Mm?"

"I'm not a client of yours, am I? I'm much more than that."

She raises an eyebrow, its shape perfectly sculpted and arched and perfect, "Confident in where you stand, aren't you? Such arrogance can often lead to one's downfall, you know."

You walk forward, prompting her to follow your motions like an intimate dance, "Are you saying that because you believe you're the exception to the rule?"

"Not that I'm the exception, no.. but challenging such things is something I am required to have expertise on, considering my line of work."

You hummed in response, "You've yet to prove that to me beyond professional transactions."

"Haven't I?"

You don't speak in turn, though instead you draw your hand back from hers before swiping it under her intricate blazer that hangs on her shoulder, letting it slip down.. and then pressing the same hand on the centre of her chest to push.

Your lover gently falls onto the mattress with a soft sound of surprise, with her long hair fanning out under her like some sort of pink halo. That momentary surprise is easily replaced with a pleased smirk, however, as her hands roam around her body to caress every inch of herself like a tantalising temptress, simultaneously opening up her outfit and fully revealing the lacy underwear underneath.

"So you caught me off-guard. That's a first."

You moved to straddle her, stripping off your topmost clothing and discarding them to the side, "Is it, though? No point lying through your teeth there."

"Ha. I suppose you do have a penchant for surprising me on the occasion." She puts her hands on your hips, gripping you and gently digging her nails into your form, "And I also suppose that that was you taking advantage of the situation, which.. bravo. I hadn't even noticed I let you take the lead."

You leaned down, capturing her lips with your own and cutting off whatever words she had planned to form after—if she ever even planned to, which you sincerely doubt it considering how her arms tugged you closer to her—before drawing back and leaving her wanting more. Her beautiful blue eyes, formerly slits, had seemingly expanded as she laid there in a silent daze.

"And you can continue. Letting me take the lead, I mean." You breathed out as you took one of her breasts into your hand and groped her idly, "Let me take care of your needs and desires this time, yeah?"

"Unfortunately that isn't in my job description," she jests with a slight rasp to her voice.

"Too bad you're not working right now," you quipped back.

And without any more to say, you lean back in as the two of you let your desires take over completely.

She definitely absolutely challenges your authority HAHAHAHA oh my god. She's SUCH a brat actually, teasingly trying to grab the reigns back and dominate you but somefuckinghow you're looking at her and acting a certain way that it actually sends a shiver down her spine once she realises you mean to consume her wholly like a snake with its prey

She isn't used to being on the receiving end, to being the one being taken care of, to being the one overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure you're giving her. And the foreign experience fucking thrills her bc almost nothing scares this woman in bed

I say "almost nothing" bc if your buttons are pushed enough bc she makes it a point to make it INSUFFERABLE for you bc you could just hand her control and she'd take care of you :((( and take the easy route like everyone else :((((( and you snap, there's no telling what'll happen to her 🥰

ROUGH HER THE FUCK UP and that's when she starts getting concerned for her wellbeing (in the fun way), though the thrill is still there and has never been this amusing and overstimulating since.. god knows when. It has her wanting for MORE

She wouldn't beg though. She refuses to do so—something something she still has some modicum of dignity in her—but that's fine.. you can just have her struggle in desperation 😋!!

Such a bestial, carnal act was unbefitting of such a classy lady.. and that debauched expression on Jade's face was even less so.

Her nails dug into your skin, though this time her grip was a far cry from its gentle yet possessive force. Instead, it was harsh and desperate, perhaps even enough to draw blood. Your neck and the line of your collarbone was in a worse state as your lower back was, though, with the multiple bite marks that littered your skin (and some of them were even the slightest bit punctured, not necessarily all that dissimilar to a snake bite).

Not like she was any better either, with how throwing her head back meant that you were able to see the myriad of marks all across her body—her skin was painted like a canvas, signed repeatedly by you and only you through some sort of binding contract.

You bucked your hips into hers with a crooked smirk to your lips that easily broke off as a groan escaped your lips. Your clit had rubbed onto hers in a certain way that had the both of you stumbling, if the time spent repeatedly switching from making her hold off from cumming, continuously pushing her off the edge and having her please you as a form of gratitude rather than her initial service didn't exhaust you two enough already.

Whenever you look at her, she always seems to be on the cusp of truly letting go and pleading for you to finally give her the release she needs from your constant minstrations throughout the night, always seems to be on the edge of admitting that you hold the power over her, that you were more than some random client like she joked about.. but she seems to have some extra willpower within her that prevents such sudden declarations.

Doesn't matter, though, because you have the power to simply draw back and leave her on the tipping point.

And when you look at her again, when you see her mouth smudged with lipstick move as she voices out her thoughts, when you see her reach out for her, when you feel just how embarrassingly wet she is...

When you see the Stoneheart at her rawest, without any sort of modification to suit whoever she deigns to interact with, you just can't help but give her a bit more.

Guys I'm a firm believer in Jade having fangs but anyway

Be mean enough to her and eventually she'll crack 🥰🥰🥰 and it'd be RUDE to leave her hanging..........or yk. Leave her hanging 😜 as a way for her to remember exactly how easily you can put her in her place

Either way now she knows FULL well not to get all cocky again unless she wants that hot-and-cold rough treatment again ☺️ and she also knows not to underestimate you ANYMORE what a way to learn not to underestimate someone

#hazy demos!#hazy explicits!#jade x reader #hsr jade x reader #jade smut #hsr jade smut #sub jade #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail smut #sub honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #hsr smut #sub hsr #hsr women x reader #hsr women imagines #hsr women smut #sub hsr women

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luckyartdrawer · 6 months ago

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100 Follower Milestone Poll! 🎉🎉🎉

Heya lovelies!!! This blog hit 100 followers oh my goodness!!!

I really can't believe it, it's so awesome to see you all here! <333 Whether you're new or old around here it doesn't matter, I am electronically hugging and/or patting all of your heads in great thanks! ✨💖✨💖✨💖✨

To celebrate, I have some options in a poll for y'all to choose what you would like to see for this milestone! I HIGHLY suggest reading the explanations of each option below the break! It clarifies some important details. Its down there so any of y'all just scrolling by won't have to worry about a wall of text! <3

Please feel free to vote even if you aren't following me!!!

Poll Options explanations:

Drop early chapters of EYED / Dreamlike: This is a Moon-centric x reader fic I've been working on for several months now and I originally planned to start posting it when I finished it or got really close to doing so. I dropped a sneak peek of it here! I find myself currently on a standstill on it's later chapters, which is why it hasn't been finished yet, but otherwise I am reallllly happy with it's messaging and pacing. (Rn I have plotted out 15 chapters but it's looking like it could be longer with how I write oops-)

The first chapters have been pretty polished at this point, so if people are really curious about this one, I don't mind to start posting the chapters up to a certain point. If this wins, I'll post the first 3 chapters for 3 sequential days, then 4 and 5 will come out in the next week, and then the last week I'll post ch. 6 for no particular reason mhmm yup I am not planning anything nefarious-

Drawing requests: This would be my first time doing something like this, and while I know I can pop out some bangers for y'all I also don't want to dig myself into a hole and leave y'all waiting for a long time. 😅So if this wins, I'll take the first 10 requests and draw them out! If I feel capable of doing more I may open some more slots for y'all, but I need to test my speed and my capabilities here first. Expect some lovely rendering bc I love it so, but I won't be doing backgrounds (besides simple colors) for the sake of my sanity.

Drabble requests: Most of ya here probably see me as only an artist, but I do write and actually started out as a writer first for this fandom hehe. ✨ I've been doing well recently with short stories so as long as y'all want em, I can hopefully dish em out at a reasonable pace! I, again, haven't done something like this before. So if this wins, I'll take the first 10 requests, but I feel more confident that I can do this at a reasonable pace, so if things go well I'll open up 5-10 more slots for y'all!

Rendered drawing of a dca AU: Hehe, my forte /J. I've drawn some whacky crossovers, cute sillays, and horror stuff at times, but some of y'all also know I love soooo many AUs in this fandom, hehe! I definitely do not mind drawing AUs, there are MANY I haven't drawn for, but I will be avoiding drawing other's specific AUs. I love making fanart, but this is going to thank y'all for being here, so I would like to keep from using someone else's AU -- it would feel like I'm stealing them e3e.

Plus, this is from me to thank you! And so will the goobers! I'll try to be as detailed as possible with both the characters and location <3

If this wins, I'll set up another poll to last for 3 days. It'll have some general au options like Mer, then I'll list out some crossovers I have done like Submas! Sun/Moon, and I'll add my own AUs! There will also be an option to suggest an AU/crossover! (Please don't be afraid to do so, as long as enough people have an interest in the option, or even if it doesn't win I may still make it if I really like the suggestion! <333)

Rendered drawing of Biblical dca: This means the drawing will be as realistic to the original as I can get it! Gonna do my best to do material rendering and all mwehehe! Though, I may make him extra polished/shiny to not only play with reflections, but to also say how sparkly y'all make me feel hehe ✨✨✨

If this wins, I'll try to finish the drawing within a week or 2 after I make the announcement of the poll's winner! I'll also throw out a really quick poll for 1 day to let y'all pick who will be our biblical goober: Sun, Moon, or Ruin Eclipse!

Something else: This is pretty self explanatory, but if you have ideas, comment below! (You can even if you didn't pick this option!!!) And if you see an idea you like or that you wanted to comment already said below, please reply to that person's comment to keep things easy to track! You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, just drop something simple like ✨ in it and I'll know that means ya voted for it. :) (I'll be checking to make sure people didn't vote on the same comment more than once! But you can vote for multiple ideas <3)

If this wins/has enough interest, I'll choose the most popular suggestion! Depending on what suggestion wins, I may actually do BOTH that suggestion and the winning/2nd place option on the poll!!!! ( Woah 2 for one what :O )

My choice 💥💥💥: I typically don't like making choices actually, but in the case y'all are indecisive I will step up ✨✨✨ If this wins, I'll likely choose whatever sounds best to me in that moment hehehe, you'll never be 100% sure what I'll do >:)

Moon's bald and we love him for it: Oh yeah we do! <3 This is just a joke option to let people who don't want to vote to see the results. If this wins... Uh... We'll go for the 2nd place vote! And also I'll add a bald Moon doodle as a bonus goodie. (I'm so good at making incentives to get people to vote, I know I know ✨✨✨)

Thanks again for all the love guys!!! This fandom has been so good to me and I cannot thank y'all enough for making it as awesome and welcoming as it has been! <333

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skullmoss · 10 months ago

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seeing a post complaining about where rook "belongs" with the companions bc bioware isn't including them in companion-focused promo material makes me actually achingly angry about the way ppl engage with rpgs in the modern age. where they need to be spoonfed by mommy game devs in order to be happy.

"i hate the inquisitor because they're boring :("

"this is why i like dark urge origin over tav in bg3 bc it gives me a reason to care :("

like i'm sorry. the part about a ROLEPLAYING game like dragon age, like baldur's gate, like elder scrolls, is to fucking.....bring your own brain to the table and fill in the gaps for that character. if you don't want to play a game where you have to actively engage in creating your character from scratch, giving them your own little backstory to influence the why and how they say or react to things, then play a game with a semi-custom protag (mass effect, dragon age 2) or, better yet, a game with no customization and you just roleplay as A Set Guy (witcher, disco elysium).

for example, i personally hate dragon age 2 because i don't like how bioware went from a relatively malleable protag with multiple origin backgrounds (the warden) to just...attempting to make dragon age into mass effect by giving us a singular protag you can change the class, gender, appearance, and choose the personality of but you're stuck with the same background and family no matter what. inquisition has its MAJOR flaws, but the inquisitor is a malleable protag that's more in line with what origins established.

"why isn't rook really featured in promo materials?"

because the second bioware creates their own 'default' rook to advertise with, is the second fandom becomes less fun and fans suddenly latch on to that iteration of the character and say there's a 'canon' way to play the game when there isn't.

"where does rook fit into all this??"

idk mate the game isn't out yet and sometimes a protag is just Some Person who wound up at the wrong place at the wrong time. fucking have fun with it.

people love astarion from baldur's gate 3 even though he is ACTUALLY some rando with 0 connection to the main overarching story.

the gaps in characters like the warden, like the inquisitor, like tav in baldur's gate, are there for you to fill in. you can criticize the way it's done and handled in the game itself. hate the way certain things are shoehorned in without allowing flexibility. but to complain about the gaps existing period?? you're missing the point of a 'fully' customizable protag. are you that afraid of indulging in an OC?

the way some people react to and talk about games that are made a VERY SPECIFIC WAY to appeal to a certain demographic of gamers (people who can and will have fun with having freedom and not being entirely railroaded) is like....going into a peanut-free bakery demanding a peanut butter cookie.

#fandom critical #dragon age for ts #i dont want to get on the post i saw and criticize OP bc it's like. okay fine whatever.#but im shoving my thumbs into my eyes trying not to scream bc some people just don't know how to roleplay anymore.#like do you want to make a character from scratch or as close to scratch as possible??#or do you want to play madlibs where you get 90% of the story written with fill-in-the-blanks and just add random words.

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frutigerfischl · 7 months ago

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OH MY BODY, I HATE THIS BODY

⌗ SONG┆skeleton bones ★ ₊ ˚⟡

⌗ TAGS ┆m!reader, mlm, trans reader, trans comfort, body dysphoria, gender affirming treatment, slight angst to fluff ★ ₊ ˚⟡

⌗ NOTE┆more baizhu content bc I really love him he's my cutie patootie fr, I'm trans so I'm self projecting a lot here lol, basically reader getting gender affirming treatment from baizhu and just overall very fluffy and comforting, song isn't really related to the scenario I just like to name my fics after song lyrics and link the songs so you can listen if you wish, that's all sorry for the yapping ★ ₊ ˚⟡

The familiar scent of herbs clung to the air, heavy and comforting in its complexity. You pushed the wooden door to Bubu Pharmacy open, the gentle chime of the bell marking your arrival. Baizhu stood behind the counter, carefully decanting a viscous green liquid into a set of glass vials.

"Y/N," Baizhu greeted, his voice as smooth and measured as always. He looked up, the faintest smile curling his lips. "I was wondering when you’d come by. Qiqi’s been asking about you."

"She’s sweet," you replied, stepping inside fully and closing the door behind you. "I missed our last walk. I’ll make it up to her soon."

Baizhu’s perceptive eyes lingered on you just a moment too long—not enough to feel invasive, but enough that it unsettled you. His gaze often had that effect, as though he could see the tension woven through your shoulders and the way you hugged your jacket close, despite the warm spring breeze outside.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his tone gentle. "And I don’t mean your usual complaints about sore muscles or sleepless nights. You’ve been carrying something heavier than that."

You hesitated, already preparing to deflect. "I—"

"It’s alright," Baizhu interrupted softly. "You don’t have to answer right away. Come sit. Let’s talk."

Baizhu led you to one of the chairs in the consultation room. His movements were slow and deliberate, the way he always was—graceful yet burdened by the chronic ailments you’d heard whispers of in town. He sat across from you, folding his hands atop the table.

"I..." You trailed off, unsure where to begin. Your hands fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve. "It’s... I’ve been feeling off. I keep looking in the mirror, and it’s like..."

"Like the reflection doesn’t match who you are," Baizhu finished for you, his voice kind.

Your throat tightened, and you nodded. "Yeah. I thought maybe I could just ignore it, push it down like I always do, but... it’s getting harder. Some days I don’t even want to leave my apartment."

Baizhu hummed in understanding, leaning forward slightly. "I see. And have you spoken to anyone about this? Your friends, perhaps?"

You shook your head. "No, I don’t want to burden them. They wouldn’t understand—not really."

Baizhu’s brows furrowed just enough to show concern. "You’re never a burden, Y/N. And while it’s true that some may not fully understand, I hope you’ll allow me to offer my help."

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, a lump settled in your throat. The kindness in Baizhu’s tone was so steady, so unwavering, that it left you momentarily unmoored.

"I..." You swallowed hard, blinking back the sting in your eyes. "I don’t even know where to start. I feel stuck in this body that doesn’t feel like mine, and I don’t know if I’ll ever feel right. Do you think there’s something wrong with me?"

Baizhu’s expression softened further, his hand reaching across the table—not to touch, but to rest close enough that you could reach out if you wanted to.

"There’s nothing wrong with you, Y/N," he said firmly. "Your feelings are valid, and you are worthy of care and respect, just as you are. But if your body causes you discomfort, there are ways to help ease that pain."

The conversation flowed naturally after that. Baizhu, with his extensive medical knowledge, laid out options you hadn’t dared to imagine. He spoke of herbal treatments that could alleviate dysphoria, routines that could help sculpt your body over time, and—most importantly—a path toward gender-affirming treatment.

"I won’t lie to you," Baizhu said, his voice both cautious and encouraging. "The road won’t be easy, and there will be challenges. But I believe in your strength, and I’ll be with you every step of the way—if you’ll allow me."

For the first time in weeks, the weight pressing against your chest eased just a little.

"You’d really do that?" you asked, your voice quiet but hopeful.

Baizhu smiled, a rare warmth lighting his features. "Of course. You are more than just a patient to me, Y/N. You are someone I care for deeply. It would be my honor to help you find peace within yourself."

Months later, you stood in front of the same mirror that had once filled you with dread. Your reflection had changed—not drastically, but enough that the disconnect between mind and body didn’t sting quite as sharply.

"You look good," Baizhu said from behind you, his voice laced with pride.

You turned to face him, a small but genuine smile on your lips. "I feel good."

Baizhu’s eyes softened as he stepped closer, his hand brushing yours. "That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you."

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menlove · 9 months ago

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wait curious about your thoughts on this. i genuinely dont believe the paul john reconciliation thing that paul pushes in every interview (abt the bread phone call etc) like im sure they had that conversation and maybe that was a nice memory but theres a paul late november 1980 interview (good morning america i think?) where the interviewer is like “john said you died creatively etc” and then paul gets very awkward and said he just keeps quiet publicly or else john will get resentful and that he doesnt know why john does that. its literally like two weeks before john died idk im like a mclennon ended on bad terms truther and i genuinely believe pauls batshit behavior the last 40 years is the result of him feeling bad about everything

I think I'm at a bit of a middle road with it! because there's certainly that (although what john actually said in that interview was meant differently and seemingly misconstrued to paul to try and start drama, although it sadly says a lot that paul sort of just expected that sort of thing by that point) & I do think that their relationship by 1980 was a lot more complicated than paul has wanted to talk about (for good reason). I wanna say there's a few interviews where he even says that, like it was difficult to come to terms with his feelings on everything with john bc suddenly he was Dead you know?

but I do think them reconciling and being friends again wouldn't necessarily negate that. there was a lot of baggage between them at that point & it would be very easy for the two of them to be Wary of each other even if they WERE on good terms and calling more often. which would just make paul's reaction to "john said you died creatively" even more of a blow for him like "what the hell, we're on good terms now, why is he STILL saying this shit?" and given that it was misconstrued and I wanna say not even a PUBLISHED interview yet, he really had nothing to go on except being ambushed by that question

plus there's the fact that they apparently had a recording studio booked for '81 and john was set to come back to england to record with him. and ofc (just like) starting over in general, though that depends on how much you believe that was for paul

honestly I think john died while they were on confusing terms. not really a Great place but also not on bad terms either. sort of a "yeah okay, we've made up, we're trying, maybe we'll get together and record, now what?" sort of place. especially given a lot anecdotes that yoko was fielding calls from paul & requests to come see john. I think they both Wanted to make up, but life was in the way. so they got phone calls about bread. but paul was obviously still wary and hurt/confused by john's back and forth behavior. I think there's some other quote somewhere from paul about how he never knew what he'd be picking the phone up to. on john's end, he probably WAS hopeful and fully intent on recording with him in the next year and, ya know, starting over. for paul, he probably didn't know if he could hold him to that or even hold him to being nice the next time they talked.

but ya know, 40+ years down the line, it's probably a bit easier to cling onto the good moments and not the confusion around where they stood at the end. lots of time for reflection on how john must have been feeling & coming to the conclusion that they WERE on track to being okay again. I think at the Time paul was probably just rightfully very cautious & that had to be a weird feeling to deal with after any future plans were killed with john

#this is rambly and I'm on mobile at 1am so I'm not gonna try and dig for sources but #if for whatever reason anyone wants em I can find em tomorrow

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the-s1lly-corner · 2 years ago

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Platonic tadc cast with a child reader Who is like :

"hey, wanna see me do a cartwheel :D"

Basically very spontaneous and chaotic in the adventures lol

Ty!! (and remember to drink water) ;3

TADC cast x chaotic!kid!reader ! (Platonic)

Guys I'm literally so tired I just got done baking a ton of stuff, like I'm talking 12ish hours of non stop cooking and baking I'm going insane im trying so hard not to fall asleep rn because I kinda. Feel bad for not really answering requests today

Anywahs

Hope you enjoy anon!

Written on mobile

CAINE:

Well well how the turn tables (writing caines portion last for once)

Very similar to kinger and ragatha in that he supports everything you do; in fact he encourages your behavior as long as no one is getting hurt. Very loudly (and sometimes obnoxiously) cheers for you

While kinger can only cheer and clap, I think Caine sets off sparkles and fireworks... probably has a whole group of bubbles cheering you on too , assuming there can be multiple bubbles at any given time (I personally think there can be, and they all share a hivemind of sorts)

So what was the occasion that prompted that?

A wonky cartwheel, of which you excited called "a sideways front flip"

(Fun fact from the admin, I called my first cartwheel that bc I didnt know it was called a cartwheel yet)

POMNI:

Anxious parental figure and hyper child, a dynamic that's hit or miss at least for me. Really it depends on how its executed

That said I think she struggles to keep up with you

Constantly scrambling around you make sure you dont fall into any danger. Literally and figuratively...

Her attempts to get you to sit down for more than five minutes fail

Your ass is failing the marshmallow test/j

RAGATHA:

No thoughts only that one clip from adventure time where BMO pretends to be a wheathervane before trying to nose dive off the roof, all while calling for finns attention. Thats you and ragatha, basically (in essence, not exact scenario though)... maybe zooble too, but we'll get there when we get there (I am currently having a brain blast)

Says things like "what am I gonna do with you" everyday, always lightheartedly of course and usually accompanied by a tired chuckle

Generally very supportive of you though, just so long as you're not hurting yourself! Sure, this is the digital world and injuries dont really stick, but still! The pain is still there

JAX:

I mentioned the marshmallow test in pomnis part and I feel like jax would do something similar with you. Except the test is rigged and the candy (which he uses in place of the marshmallow( is actually for him and not for you. So if you actually earn the extra candy you dont even get it

That said I do think jax would feel bad when you get upset about the joke

Anyways

I think he finds it funny, as long as you're not tugging on his overalls and screaming at him for something, or interfering with his plans

Hes not a neglectful rolemodel/familial figure, he just has a short fuse with the above I think, regardless of who it is, kid or not

That said he fully embraces your spontaneous nature

KINGER:

Peepaw and his grandchild, that's it that's literally the dynamic

"Kinger is only 48-"

Hush♡

"Oh that's so lovely, (reader)" when you run up to him with your hands full of god knows what

Eagerly claps and cheers when you show him a new trick you learned

Bonus if you try to recreate or one up his embellished stories in order to make him proud of you (hes always proud of you)

ZOOBLE:

As mentioned in ragathas part, the wheathervane BMO thing is basically in essence you guys' dynamic. Except where I think ragatha would be quicker to pay attention to you, zooble may be a little slower. Not because they dont care about whatever you're trying to display to them, but because I think a lot of the times they kind of mentally check out (me too honestly)

Tries to scold you if you do something too dangerous or out of line, may come across as way angrier or upset than they actually are though thanks to their voice being kinda

You know

Zooble gives off "cool older sibling who doesnt care about nothing" energy

GANGLE:

Meekly tries to get you to calm down for a few minutes, especially if theres an IHA going on because she doesnt want you to run off and potentially get hurt. Tries to keep you occupied with arts and crafts. Watches in horror as you impulsively eat the glue

Tends to wrap one of her ribbon hands around yours so she knows you're not running off.. this is more so when theres an IHA going on

As per usual not many ideas for gangle <\3

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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burningvillage · 8 days ago

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THE QUEEN OF SORROWS

Ⅴ

SUMMARY: A tangled mess: dirt, rain, and council meetings.

CW: Rheia exhibits odd behaviour; brief mention of child execution; right off the bet; political plots;

TW: none yet!

WC: 6.5k

a/n: Hello. I've had the shittiest day, and i'm writing. Which means you're getting a new chapter bc this is a free, needed therapeutic session! i love yura hes my edgy son who eats sand And make everyone uncomfortable. Just for clarification, i would like to say i am very partial when it comes to tamlin, and more generally any character that is designed to be put in a box. I think there's conversation to be had about how his character has fundamentally been butchered, how his flaws reflect the psychology of people placed in positions they are unable to see as fully theirs. that, however, does not excuse any of his wrong doings. At the end of the day, I consider him a very felt character, if not a little exaggerated.

you'll see what i mean soon; as for now, have a nice read!

kisses, witch

Cassian would have loved to appreciate the luscious green that surrounded him, the flowers that spurt out from the green forest floor…hell, if he wasn’t fucking allergic, he would have even flung himself down like he did that Winter, when snow had piled up on the rooftop of the House of Wind so much one could swim in it.

Sadly, this wasn’t the case. Not with his pollen allergy.

Now, he not only had trekked through this unruly Spring Court, but he had to do so in the presence of the most irritating person he knew, to check on an equally irritating bastard.

In the wake of Rheia’s return to Hybern, Rhys had summoned an emergency meeting of sorts with all High Lords available on short notice, but he’d demanded Tamlin’s presence as her brother, for clarification on matters Cassian hadn’t really looked into.

When the miserable bastard hadn’t shown up despite having plenty of time on hand to reach them, Eris had roused the issue, and Cassian was the only one available to check on him.

Something was definitely different. Felt different.

For one, Tamlin hadn’t come to greet them with threats.

“This is weird,” Eris voiced his own thoughts, bending under a branch.

Cassian nodded, agreeing to his own surprise. “It is weird. He’s one territorial asshole.”

Eris set his feet down, stopping in front of Cassian and giving him a generous portion of his back that at another moment he might have been tempted to stab. The breeze carried over leaves as a path opened.

“I’ll advance,” the redhead said, and Cassian hummed. “Be right behind.”

Eris didn’t reply to point out how that sounded, and Cassian caught the undertone of seriousness in the air.

The ocean of trees was eerily silent, but not in a peaceful sense; if any creature was trudging around, Cassian did not hear them, nor did he detect the smell that was so typical of savage animals.

All he got was stillness, the unchanging beat of the earth as they were swallowed deeper in the darkening greenery. At some point, light had started to give way to pitch black.

Eris’ fingers cradled a small flame near his harrowed face, side glancing at Cassian.

He didn’t make any snarky comment, or quip. He simply motioned down to the leaves and flowers and hardened roots.

Cassian followed behind him with an anxious feeling in his guts.

It would have been difficult to distinguish the giant shape lying on its back in such a weak, dying flame, had Cassian not had the training to spot it.

That still didn’t stop him from taking a step back once he realized it was no nameless beast.

The thing lying on the ground was the High Lord of the Spring Court, surrounded by slumbering beasts as he, too, rested. Several envelopes were sparse around, Rhysand’s amongst the few.

All untouched missives.

Eris looked at him, and in the darkness, Cassian could make out an undeniable, unavoidable truth.

“We’re fucked.”

Yura’s workspace smelt of ground coffee and pepper; there was a dedicated attention to the organized messiness on his desk as he sloshed creamy liquor in shot glasses. A pile of worn leatherbound volumes on the right, spilled ink seeped into the cracks of the wooden desk.

Azriel accepted the small glass with a nod, just as the rumble of thunder broke through, rain falling down yet again.

A week had officially gone by, and with time, the weather had progressively gotten colder, which, in Yura’s logic, was completely normal; it went unsaid that Hybern’s weather had always been chaotic and happened to answer itself and itself only.

Azriel was not surprised to hear that there had been years where Summer had been gloomy and pallid.

He did not know why Yura was being so transparent. If anything, it was extremely suspicious and Azriel knew that.

He knew that Yura’s insistence in familiarizing did not come from a genuine wish to know him, but more out of carefulness. If there was any other reason, it was well-hidden.

Yura moved towards the lounging space, where chairs faced the fireplace, where burning coals were the only trace of what had been a small but colorful fire. The wood was a light shade and burned a long time with lilac flames and even the smell of smoke was a little less pungent than normal.

It cast a soft light in the room, despite being a dying fire, and gave just the right amount of warmth without being stuffy.

Azriel waited for Yura to sit before doing so himself, just atop the stool Yura had provided for him, insisting on fetching one was no problem. Whatever hospitality he was being served, it wasn’t the hybernian kind.

It was the hospitality of a nameless place, cold and silent and calculated.

Yura stared into the fire, holding the small glass in his hand before he downed it in one go.

Only when the Storm Summoner had swallowed Azriel tipped the glass to his lips.

The rich thickness of liquor added to the surrounding warmth. He still had the underlying sensation that he’d end up poisoned if he wasn’t careful around them.

His wings spasmed in a last charge of tension before they went slack against his back.

A week in, and he still hadn’t found out anything of relevance. Or, well, what he had found out did not have much importance in the great scheme of things; there was nothing new about a widow seeking out pleasure, and queens were well-known for jumping beds with their close comrades.

Yura, though, was not just any comrade. He was an advisor to the queen, and he had plenty of occasions to persuade her, to veer her thoughts towards whatever direction he favored. He could whisper poison in her ears, and do so constantly, to the point notions would stick to her without her even noticing.

And yet…that wasn’t the case.

They didn’t let those two lines overlap; he wouldn’t have noticed anything out of the ordinary if he hadn’t been on the lookout.

Which made Yura’s friendliness all the more bizarre.

These few days in his company had been spent discussing confidential information about common threats, and it had been no surprise that Koschei was among the rosters; it seemed the fucker didn’t want anyone to have peace in any way shape or form, and had been sending progressively concerning messages at Hybern’s strategic forts, ranging from tablets with ominous inscriptions that had yet to be deciphered, to literal skulls with razor sharp teeth.

The fact he was bound to a magic lake didn’t diminish the fact that he was a God, and he was still actively terrorizing them.

Yura placed his empty glass down, prompting Azriel to do the same.

The Storm Summoner laid back with a theatrical sigh, his head canting to the side in a weary motion. Azriel would have done the same in his position.

“You know, sometimes I envy lightning. It extinguishes in a moment and doesn’t have to do anything but be fucking spectacular.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “I would argue lightning is also extremely destructive.”

Yura fixed his position until his elbows touched his knees. His cuffs were undone, his shirt crumpled under his doublet, hair loose and spiking in every goddamn direction.

He nodded, a small quirk lifting the side of his mouth. “Oh, it is. If one is unlucky.”

As if on cue, thunder rolled again, and a lightning strike hit so close that it cast a scenic halo around Yura’s hair, already frizzy from the humidity.

He had a little laugh to himself, looking outside the window, so overrun with water that the scenery outside was hard to distinguish.

“Rheia doesn’t like people knowing this, but where I was born, people like me are considered unfit. When a child bears the mark of the sky like I do, they’re taken by their heels and tested.”

This wasn’t a surprise in itself. Azriel had read enough from his informants to know Solan was not a kind place, especially to children. It was the perfect place for criminals to blend in as it required no documents; a corrupt self-serving piece of the world that cared not for what was considered appropriate, with menageries and schools in the same district and a gaping hole in the center of the main city where executions were held.

A republic that had long ceased bearing that name.

Now it was just a lawless place.

“Tests?” Azriel found himself asking out loud, without meaning to. One thing was reading written words on things that were witnessed, and another was being face to face with someone who had these things done to them.

Yura nodded. “Affinity tests. They check our predisposition to magic; how sensible we are to other charged objects…if, given the right stimuli, we can summon, then we’re eligible for training, as long as we do not destroy everything around us.”

Yura moved his long fingers in a gesture that pointed at the ceiling; a web of electric light danced around his hand, falling silent when he closed his fist. The sting of electricity permeated the air between them.

“And those who aren’t?”

Yura shrugged at the question, bracing his hands on the armrests as he eyed the dying embers, like he was recalling something that he’d nearly forgotten.

“Exiled. Or killed. It’s a speculation, though. I’ve up and gone of my own volition.”

Azriel stayed in his seat, whether out of fickle embarrassment or surprise, he wasn’t sure. Yura’s words were vague and dodgy yet gave him all he needed to hear: Yura had been the destructive kind of marked child, and for that he’d fled before anyone could cast him out.

It made all the whispers of his reputation take on a new light; this wasn’t just someone who’d outlived the King, this was a male with unbridled powers and a portent of survival, who’d somehow decided at some point in his life that serving a queen with no immediate power was the proper thing to do.

Azriel watched as said male yawned; the evening darkening as if encouraged by the action.

When he got up, Yura did the same, stretching his back in a feline motion.

“Thank you for the company,” he told him, to which Azriel replied with a faint nod. Yura gestured towards the door, saying “now, I should go check on- “

A sharp knock resounded from the other side, followed by a series of hurried, urgent knocks. Yura uttered something Azriel caught the end of, a lament of sorts about manners, before he opened the door to a rain-drenched Seele.

He stared at her up and down with a small, muffled laugh. “Did you step in a puddle, Seelina dear?”

Seele, unamused, gave him an exasperated look, acknowledging Azriel’s presence only a moment later.

She paled considerably, so much so her skin looked almost transparent.

Yura poked his head out in the corridor, humming. “You’ve left quite the trail after you.”

“I’ll clean after myself later. Right now, there’s a little problem.”

The Storm Summoner grabbed a jacket out of thin air, draping it across Seele’s trembling shoulders. An understanding look was shared between the two.

“Dumas is not seeing to it?” he asked, leading her to sit in front of the fireplace. Azriel watched the small pool of water cascading from her back seep into the carpet at the center of the room, his arms crossed as he watched the interaction.

He hadn’t felt anything that could count as a disturbance that day yet. Could their wards be lackluster in some way? Surely Rheia would know if there was anything off…

Unless the problem concerned Rheia herself.

He watched Yura throw some logs in the fire and will it to life again as Seele sneezed a few times.

He didn’t say a word before he was retreating outside the door.

There was incredible comfort in letting water wash over oneself, letting it pour down on your face and seep into the layers of your clothes.

Like purifying the body from its filth, and the soul with it. The essence of life itself was water, and it had never ceased to be a subject of worship, and an element employed in rituals. When she was younger, Rheia had a naiad friend who shared a love for flowers with her, whom in kind let her in in some traditions that she’d never read of. Her perspective had shifted considerably during these few years; her father had always thought nymphs to be fickle, mindless creatures that were only good at frolicking and fraternizing with nature, who assured his protection only with the Tithe they offered him, with no inclination towards the noble arts of the sword.

He'd made them out to be stupid animal-whisperers that he had the kindness of sparing.

He couldn’t have been more wrong. Now and then, when she thought of his words, the falsehoods he had almost succeeded in feeding her were such plain lies, a propagandistic attempt to mold her.

Now, when she thought of him, she no longer paid it any mind.

Yet, today, his memory was vivid to the point of pain. Anytime a gloom like this would stir, Rheia was made to be face-to-face with things she’d swore to herself didn’t hurt her anymore, and she didn’t know what to make of them. She didn’t know why it felt so hard today.

Elain had kept her company for the evening, in the drawing room on the last floor as they had agreed to take advantage of the weather to talk and make clear some things Elain found confusing from one scripture to the other.

It had been an intense and fruitful lesson where Rheia had understood most of Elain’s doubts lay heavily on the fact she did not have visions in the traditional sense; Elain felt and saw and smelled and detected.

It was eerily similar to what Calica had experienced in her late years, and even more so considering Elain had not had any training prior to this. Seers were not as rare as the world made them out to be and most of the ones who existed —those Rheia had read studies on— were made to believe theirs were merely hallucinations.

She’d occupied herself with research on the matter when Elain had retired to have an early night, coming out of it with more questions than answers.

In the end, she’d locked herself in her room, listening to the sound of rain and recalling when times were simple.

When she didn’t have the weight of a kingdom on her shoulders.

She’d climbed the rooftop easily, as if it was not her first time (and would not be her last), hugging her knees as she let the torrential rain soak her.

How she hated gloomy weather, and yet, how comforting it was. She could see the roaring waves crashing on the shore from up there, taste salt on her tongue and smell sea breeze.

She opened her mouth, letting freezing water trickle on her tongue, and inhaled a sharp breath.

She was absolutely drenched, and she’d been out in the cold rain for so long now she couldn’t even feel it anymore.

She had gotten so familiar with the pitter-patter of rain, that when it suddenly halted, she panicked, because it was raining even harder than before all around.

Rheia had been so lost in her own surprise she felt her heart stutter when she raised her head, and blazing eyes came to meet hers.

Azriel crouched beside her. One of his wings shielded her from the onslaught of rain, enough to leave her the time to actually feel the clothes drenched, sticking to her like a second layer of skin.

Very humid skin. Almost slimy.

It was enough to make her pull a grimace.

She stared up to him, the longer hair that had stuck out due to the rain, the water that dribbled down his chin to his neck and down the wet black silk that attached to his muscles…

Gods above. What was she thinking? Now was not the time.

Solid darkness wrapped around her, covering her hand, busy fiddling with one of the rooftop tiles.

She didn’t find any comfort in the roaring flames.

Her whole body felt like it was made of stone; heavy to the point she was about to tumble all over herself.

He’d closed the balcony door, as well as the window she’d climbed out of.

Her door was key locked. Her room warded against transmigration, winnowing and summoning.

So how was it that he had entered? It couldn’t be by flying. Not in this damnable weather.

He’d broken in, even if there were truly no signs of it.

Because he was skilled, and she had not thought it would be a problem. He’d seemed especially adamant in avoiding her, so why seek her out now?

It was a useless waste of his time.

She was fine, a little drenched, sure.

And her body felt like a heavy thing that did not belong to her, but what was new, at that point?

It rarely surprised her nowadays, how she felt so constricted inside her own skin. If she could have crawled out of her hide, a mess of flesh of a Queen would surely have spooked Silas enough to not have him on her trail constantly.

The light went dark. A towel covered her hair, the sound of steps behind her almost null.

“You have a lot of books,” from how far the voice came from, Rheia deduced the light turning of pages was that of a volume on ancient military tactics she’d been holding on for a while and had just recently been able to get around to read.

“I have…a fascination for the written word.”

She raised her hands to press the towel on her hair, a shiver running up her spine as she began dabbing her wet hair dry.

When she stood up, the lights in the room grew, their soft and dim light rivaling that of candles; she placed the towel on her shoulders, focusing on the warmth of the fire, rather than the male standing at the center of her room, and more specifically, the shirt that clung to his toned body.

She watched him turn a page not with his hand, but with the dark tendrils that were his shadows, a look of interest in his eyes as he peered over the contents of the page, and most likely her notes, written at the edge of the paper.

He was engrossed to the point where it took him several minutes to catch her gaze.

He stopped and abruptly closed the book.

The sudden movement startled the darkness around him; he moved to the side of the round table as Rheia brushed her finger atop the red leather.

“…How did you enter here?” She voiced her question, and watched a small drop of water make its way from his cheek to his chin, the beginning of a stubble subtle against his rich, tan skin. His shadows dispersed in the corners of the room, disappearing behind the open hall that connected her bedroom to the recreational area.

He brushed his wet hair back, leaning with his hip on the side of the table. His wings looked rather dewy with the remnants of rainwater, and he no doubt had in mind her very same wish: a warm bath, dinner, and then plummeting to bed.

Even so, he wasted no time to assume a contrite expression, one that made his thick eyebrows stand out, almost in a mocking manner.

“For someone who’s surrounded by knowledge, you seem awfully ignorant of what I can and cannot do.”

Rheia retreated her hand, walking towards him in a soft stride.

“You will have to forgive me, Shadowsinger. Your kind is especially hard to study, given how little resources have appeared within the years.”

By the Gods, if she had been interested in Shadowsingers. Who wouldn’t be? After all, they were rare and had magic that was not granted through lineage, which in itself was fascinating.

Darkness chose its vassals and served them in return. It found people in awful circumstances and rendered them powerless to powerful, granting freedom that knew no bounds. It made them the perfect emissaries.

The perfect spies.

Just like the one that was so obviously goading her.

And oh, how she loved a good chat.

“So you didn’t break my wards, but surpassed them…Impressive.”

And scary.

And dangerous. If there were people like him, who could access places this easily -who could bypass such an intricate warding rune- then Rheia needed to update her sigil forgery before it backfired on her.

Azriel Shadowsinger was not subtle in his reaction. He crossed his arms, the furrow in his brows softening.

“What, you’re going to offer me tea, now?”

Rheia stared at him for a short moment before she gave him a courteous smile. “I’m told I make an excellent brew.”

Azriel had never seen the inside of a carriage in his life. He’d ridden on caravans before, when flying was too dangerous, and he’d taken advantage of his shadows on more times than he could count.

Carriages, given the width of his wings, had always felt like boxes, small wooden crates that he did not belong to. Rhys had the possibility of shifting and concealing them due to his heritage; Azriel did not see why he would ever be interested in carriage rides.

One can imagine his surprise when, two days after he’d rescued the queen from her impromptu shower during a literal thunderstorm, she gathered everyone at dinner and announced she would be going to a council meeting and invited her guests to join her in her travels.

When he’d roused the issue with his wings, Yura had been quick to reassure him; there would be no problem.

And there truly was no problem, because whoever had designed this carriage, had taken into consideration all possible necessities a passenger could have.

Pillowy cushions, seats large enough that one could easily keep their legs in manspread without hindering the other people in the small enclosure, that was in no way small.

But not big enough for Azriel to find distractions from the confabulating murmur of Elain’s voice.

He didn’t know why he’d decided to come along...

Alright, that was a lie, he’d come to keep an eye on Elain, to make sure she didn’t get in trouble of any sorts.

Ah, and spying. He needed to spy, of course.

He needed to get some work done, as Rhys’s little message in his sleep had made clear.

It had rained early in the morning, hence the fogged window glass. It didn’t seem like it was going to be a sunny day, and it reflected immensely on how the queen was faring.

Bent to the side to show something she’d written on a piece of paper, Rheia had her attention focused on Elain as she questioned the locations and landmarks she ought to be on the lookout for. The hybernian sash attached to the queen’s cloak was held loose by the titanium pauldron sitting on her shoulders, the crest of the royal family, the elegant silhouette of a bear carved out of it.

Under the black wool, a viridian gown with golden accent called back the faint color of Rheia’s hair, braided to the sides like the horns of a mutton. She looked pristine, no trace of anything in her expression, just like it was expected of her.

Even Yura was in proper attire, though he didn’t look quite as used to it as his queen. His hair was pulled back and braided to the sides, showcasing a harrowed pair of thick, short eyebrows.

He kept trying to loosen the collar of his blouse casually, but too often for it to not count as a nervous tick, as was the clench of his fist and its immediate loosening.

Azriel could smell stress and taste it on the tip of his tongue.

When the carriage halted, Yura’s eyes became comically small as he realized they’d arrived.

“We’re…already here?” he asked, mostly to himself.

Rheia moved to stand up, smoothing away the non-existent wrinkles of a perfectly ironed dress. “I asked the rider to take the short route. We have matters to discuss before the meeting starts.”

The door opened from outside, where a full armored Dumas awaited with his open palm.

Rheia hopped out the step first, then Elain, Yura and Azriel.

They’d stopped just at the confines of a small town made up entirely of stone.

Elain, at Rheia’s side, looked a little disappointed.

“This is…Aureme?”

“The Gray City…yeah,” Yura confirmed, his boots landing in a puddle so deep his foot disappeared in the water.

He exchanged a look with Rheia, who checked his now-wet shoe before sighing. Dumas excused himself, making his way to the carriage again, likely to distract himself from laughing in Yura’s face.

Rheia made a beckoning gesture, and Azriel raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“People here tend to take advantage of outsiders, so, to make matters simple for the duration of your stay…” Digging her hands in the pockets of her clothes, she produced two small brooches in the shape of a rose, sprayed with a yellow tincture.

“These are Roses of Favor. They guarantee you are under my protection and that you will be presented with the same prices as the locals.”

Shadows deposited the small accessory in his hand. Azriel cocked his head forward, “and how may we wear it?”

“However you like, as long as it’s visible.”

After that, they’d entered together through a gated side entrance, where the guards had bowed as soon as they’d passed an imposing stone arc.

When they parted, the Rose of Favor was perfectly pinned to his shirt, just short of his collarbones.

Elain had taken the list Rheia had given her very seriously. There were very few people out in the city, mostly because the Gray City had gotten even grayer, the sky still overcast with clouds. Map in one hand and list in the other, it had only taken her a few minutes to memorize it before she was skipping about.

Azriel felt like he was unneeded.

Then again, this could be a perfect chance to get a word in with her, and understanding what it was she was after, in Hybern of all places.

So, to avoid making it more awkward than it already was, Azriel followed behind in silence, did so for the duration of half the evening before he spoke.

So far, Elain had crossed over a toymaker’s shop, where she’d delivered a letter and a few coins, and had picked out a box that Azriel offered to carry and a carpenter, where she’d dropped off even more coins and two envelopes in exchange for a rolled carpet Azriel had swung over his shoulder.

The blacksmith looked at their Roses of Favor for a moment, and wordlessly handed Elain a wooden box.

Azriel understood they’d finished off their tasks only when Elain entered one of the pubs.

Azriel placed the items he’d been transporting down, sitting in front of her and forcing a smile on his face.

It was now or never.

“Elain.”

Being called, she looked up. Azriel knew that smile she’d put on was as uncertain as his.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He tried to find the warmth in her sweet, big brown eyes, yet couldn’t. What he found was deep embarrassment, like she hadn’t thought of telling him, or…

She didn’t trust he’d be supportive of her decision.

Hugging her arms, Elain shrugged.

“You would have blamed yourself for my decision.”

Azriel scoffed. “El, please, why else would you want to come here?”

He placed one hand down on the table, a movement that had Elain slink back subtly. They were nearly alone; only a few people by the bar were drinking, occasionally taking a peek at them.

His hand balled into a fist before he hid it under the table. He wasn't about to make it a public spectacle.

Elain stared at her glass, empty, then at him, this time fully.

“I don’t want to lie to you. What has transpired between us-“

“Transpired?”

Oh, that near kiss had only transpired, for her. The undeniable attraction they felt for one another was only a fleeting, unfocused thing?

“-as I was saying, what happened between us has partially impacted my decision. But it…this wasn’t a spur of the moment thing, Az. I truly wanted to come here.”

Sighing, Azriel grabbed the carafe of wine, and poured a good amount in his glass before he was satisfied.

He’d been a fool.

Elain might have been a fae now, but she still held a human heart. Her affections were fleeting and rightfully so.

She was young, and he was a hopeless, pathetic male for believing himself capable of changing that.

He swallowed a sip, pushing out a strained sound.

“…does he know?”

It hurt him to ask.

It hurt even more, that he already knew what the answer would be.

“He’s known for a while.”

What bitter it was, that envy.

If there was one irrevocable truth in Prythian, was that if something was amiss, the High Lords would feel it.

The land sent signals to its pillars.

Only this time, of seven powerful pillars, one was the cause of that disturbance.

Rhysand was going insane. Of all times for Tamlin to spiral in some enchanted sleep, now?

This had to be some sort of joke.

“We need to wake him up,” Tarquin, his beautiful skin gone ashen with worry, ignored the glass of whisky still untouched in front of him.

Kallias and Thesan, sitting on opposite sides of the small lounge room, came to the same conclusion.

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” Kallias mused.

Helion’s attendants closed the door behind them; he stacked a pile of books down, and all the males gathered in the room got up to greet him.

The High Lord of Day was the first person Rhysand had reached about the issue.

Not because he didn’t trust the other High Lords, or because they’d been building a steady friendship and alliance.

Helion’s libraries housed some of the most coveted spellbooks Prythian knew; his collaboration had been crucial for Rhysand on numerous occasions, and, with some luck, they could get to the bottom of this before it reached Hybern and fucked everything up for him.

So, in a sense, Helion was his last resort.

First and foremost, a decision had been made to hide the matter from Beron, who hadn’t been notified of this impromptu meeting.

“Eris is smart enough to know his father would do anything to expand Autumn territory. We cannot let the matter reach Beron until we’re sure what we’re dealing with.”

The agreement was unanimously approved.

That left them with the true issue at hand; why was Tamlin asleep in his beast form? And, exactly, how long had he been like that?

Apparently, Tarquin had received a visit from Tamlin only some weeks before he stopped replying to summons and letters. So, at best, that would make it a month or so.

In Tarquin’s words, there had been nothing strange about Tamlin’s demeanor; if anything, he looked better than he’d ever been. He’d even laughed at his own past misery when it had been inevitably brought up. That should have been the first alarm bell, but how could Tarquin have known? Rhysand, who’d been very close with Tamlin once had learned to pick apart that perfectly constructed front brick by brick; Tamlin valued appearance only when it brought him some sort of comfort, and this had been no exception.

Tamlin had presented a façade to Tarquin because he knew his mask would not fall, and that had been the last time he’d been out of Spring.

Helion picked a thick volume, and Rhysand could only hope that the anxious feeling at the pit of his stomach was a casual, passing one.

The meeting had not gone well.

Azriel didn’t need to ask, not when Rheia’s expression was so tight it looked like her skin was about to crack like porcelain.

Yura, sitting beside him, had undone his hairstyle as soon as they’d made it back in the carriage.

They both looked absolutely exhausted, almost devoid of life with how they had sunk into the plush of the seats. Rheia was gripping a ledger, staring at it.

She stared at it with such contempt that it startled both Azriel and Elain when she slammed her forehead into it, alarming even Yura, who was resonating with her stress like Azriel expected him to be.

“You know that opening your skull doesn’t help our cause, right?” he said, though it came out more like a slight than encouragement.

Rheia closed her eyes and leaned back until her forehead touched the cold window, muttering, “they will regret this.”

The threat was not even nearly veiled. Whoever had managed to piss her off this much was not going to have a good time.

Yura’s chuckle was devoid of any true amusement.

“They won’t. They have plenty of land and money and, let’s face it, if it weren’t for the fact they need you to take all the blame for their failures, they would have already gotten rid of you.”

Rheia opened the ledger, picking up an unopened envelope.

“At least we have Sylpha,” she said, and it was all Yura needed to snatch the envelope from her hands, already set on opening it.

Elain, who’d been timidly concealing her curiosity, looked at Rheia with no smidge of subtlety.

“Who’s Sylpha?”

“Princess Sylpha,” Yura started, the sound of ripping paper a background to his suddenly chipper voice, “is a gift given to us by the Heavens, a lady that has no enemy, the most elegant flower that has ever-“

“She’s my sister-in-law,” Rheia cut in, making it a point to give Yura a look that was the preview of a scolding.

Azriel crossed his arms, “Princess?”

He didn’t remember ever hearing of a Hybernian princess going by that name.

Rheia blinked, as if she’d only realized at that moment he was present. Lost in thought for a moment, she shrugged.

“She was married to a crown prince. The title was never taken from her, since she had his children long before he died.”

Azriel racked his brain for information before he understood who they were talking about.

The twins Feyre had subjugated and killed were Hybern’s nephews, thus, Rheia’s by association.

And they were Sylpha’s -Princess Sylpha’s- progeny.

It had never occurred before to Azriel that they had to be someone’s children.

Frankly, Azriel had subconsciously convinced himself that creatures of such depraved nature either came from the deepest pits of Hell or simply popped out of the void as moral punishment to the world.

He couldn’t fathom them being birthed in the traditional sense, and yet…

“So? What’s in the letter?” Rheia probed on, presenting an awaiting palm.

Yura folded the paper in his hands, making it into an overcomplicated origami in a convoluted shape. “Oh, nothing much. Tea party.”

Rheia blinked. “An invitation?”

Yura shrugged, placing the paper swan atop her palm. “It has been a while since your last public appearance.”

Rheia stared at the paper shape sitting atop her palm for a moment, then looked out into the dawning horizon with an absent gaze.

“It is time. I must show Sylpha my support.”

When they met for breakfast on the next morning, Elain had jumped at the mention of a plus one.

The date of the tea party had been set for the coming week, and in the meantime, Rheia had decided that brushing back in some party manners was in order.

For that purpose, the greenhouse had been prepared with a round table, an assortment of appetizers, and, of course, tea. The same tea she'd shared with him.

To any other person watching from the outside, that might have looked like a chill, orderly deal, when in fact it was more like a lecture of sorts.

“Straight spine. Chin up,” Rheia instructed; the movement was repeated with much interest by all of those who’d gathered.

It went without saying that as soon as the workers in the residence had been seen setting up the greenhouse, every resident, child and curious passerby had secured a spot for themselves, either down on the well-kept grassy bed, or the few stones conveniently placed inside.

It was, in all honesty, an amusing sight. Most of the people there couldn’t care less about tea parties, or the intricately woven vines of wisteria that lined the glass walls, nor the flowers in the pots.

The moment they’d learned Rheia would be in attendance their day had already been turned for the best.

Azriel didn’t know if he could deem that curiosity sweet or concerning.

From the far end of the greenhouse, almost hidden by a curtain of vines that fell down and obscured his vision partly, making a perfect frame around Rheia

Azriel leaned against one of the pillars as he observed her with interest.

Her lips were closed in a faint curve, her teacup just a breath away, filled with fuming tea.

She looked better than she’d been the last few days; whatever had happened during that council meeting had left her visibly irritated; she’d closed herself in the office for two days straight, coming out of there like nothing had happened.

Yura had told him it was nothing out of the ordinary, that there had been weeks when Rheia wouldn’t even come out of her office for food, and Yura had to force himself in through the window twice to see how she was holding up.

It was clear the Queen of Hybern was a fuse that risked imploding at every given moment yet had somehow found a way to not cause any lasting damage.

It was a commendable effort, made even more apparent by how patiently she was explaining things that should have been obvious.

Her movements were natural, elegant, slow and relaxed, even amid that sea of curious bystanders who regarded her as if she was an apparition of some sort.

Sunlight filtered from stained glass, reflecting over the cutlery and plants in refractions; rain had given up in favor of a frisk yet sunny day, which had meant a few layers of clothing could be spared.

For the occasion, Azriel had worn his leathers -cleaned, and smelling like lavender- again, easing back into the stretchy fabric like he knew he would.

Arms crossed, he squinted his eyes; if there were things the queen was hiding, they were not going to be revealed to him in the creasing of her lips.

He was caught completely off guard when her gaze locked on his; the chill that went up his spine at the unassuming smile kissing the edge of the teacup had him suddenly very interested in the green surrounding him.

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