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mamayan · 1 year ago

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Yandere! Dark Fae King x Darling! Changeling (Part 2)

Part 1 (Here)

cw: NSFW • Sub! Reader • Dom! Yandere • Dark/Yandere Themes • Gore/Death • Monster Fucking • Fae • Kidnapping/Imprisonment • Dubcon • Fem! Darling • Dumbification • Praise • Overstimulation • Pheromone Drugging/Aphrodisiac • Manipulation • Breeding

A/N: Upon multiple requests and asks, I’ve decided to expand and make a part 2 for Avarice and Darling’s story. Enjoy♥️

“Freak!”

“You should be ashamed to be alive! When your own sister died, how dare you appear here!”

“Jinx.”

“I hope you die worse than she. Poor soul…”

You snapped out of it when he finally left again. The nightmares of your past seemingly haunting you as the death of so many rested on your shoulders.

Your fault. It was always your fault, wasn’t it? That’s what you were after all. A jinx.

Ava… he haunted you more than anything. His eyes so dull as of late but you couldn’t find it in yourself to assure him of forgiveness you did not want to give. You’d said horrible things to him though, when he’d confessed to killing your entire village due to your pressuring. He killed your family, or at least, the only family you knew. He killed the women and children, the old and innocent. Ava had no discretion when it came to slaughtering humans.

“Of course I love you! You’re my little sister, why are you asking me such a silly question so late?” Your human sister had looked so befuddled when you’d questioned her love for you. It must’ve been a rebellious phase, for she raised you and your younger human siblings much like a mother should’ve. The mother which birthed your siblings and the child swapped for you had lost herself to alcohol and gambling, her husband and your father too loyal to leave her despite the pit she began to dig for the entire family.

Your fault.

“Come eat. This sickness of her’s seems to be affecting us all. Father shall return with a fresh kill, I’ll make a stew. You like deer stew right?” You hated it but nodded anyway, your sister’s cooking so awful it even made your father’s eyes water but… “I do. I love it… and I love you too.” You’d replied, and it was the warmest moment you remember in that small wooden house.

You’d picked your nail beds bloody, eyes numbly staring at the broken skin and wondering why it wasn’t telling you the right answer. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t leave, even if you wanted to, and that was the problem. You didn’t want to leave Ava, because aside from your deceased sister, he was the closest living creature to your heart. He owned part of your soul now too, but you could feel him in you too. It wasn’t one sided, and while Ava certainly was full of cruelty, you knew him capable of care. He cared for you, his people and subjects, and his kingdom.

So why did he do it? Harm so many? Oddest of all, why did he abhor humans to much? He wouldn’t answer anything you asked, merely stating it was a necessity, that they needed to die, or be cleansed as he’d phrased it. You had loved a human dearly though, her memory still filling you with the familiar taste of warmth and overcooked venison. She was not a sister by blood but through life and trust.

Would Ava have killed her too?

You could only wonder endless dark halls of a castle you never saw an exit to. The windows revealing what appeared to be an entire kingdom below, built into a forest much like in tales of your childhood. This was a community, one which you now shared responsibility to help grow and flourish.

You didn’t feel like you were home though.

“Look at me.”

He’s impossible to ignore.

“I will force you if I must.”

You turn, giving the barest of glances upward, head forced to tilt completely back to meet his dark golden eyes. He, in all his immortal and frightening glory, looks tired. You admit it makes something within you ache to see it, but you aren’t ignorant to the fact that you look tired as well.

“You are not sorry at all… are you?” His lips press tight, eyes narrowing a fraction as he cocks his head, a few dark curls spilling like waves to follow the movement. He stalks closer like a predator, and even now, when you know he intends no physical harm to you, it raises your instincts to run. His towering form lowers to the floor where you’ve seated yourself, endless marble surrounding you in an empty ball room, the enormous glass window you’ve opened allowing fresh air in.

“Do you wish me to apologize for eliminating those vile creatures… or for upsetting you?” He cracks a rueful smile, teeth all sharp edges and eyes hardened by your distance. “If it is the latter little flower, then I sincerely am apologetic, I never wished to upset you.” You can tell he’s sincere, see it even, but something still nagged at you that wouldn’t leave.

“Ava…” his full attention is trained on you, “Why do you hate them? What did they do to you?”

His wings shift as he settles himself fully on the ground with you. An image unbefitting of a King yet also suiting him as he leans back on his palms and directs his gaze at the tall ceiling above.

You liked the sight of moonlight bathing him more than candle.

“I thought I loved a human once.”

You flinch, despite knowing it must’ve been so long ago, it stung nevertheless. He twitches, as if to move towards you before he stops himself and settles again, talons scraping along the floor as he continues.

“That human used my youth and ignorance against me and destroyed my entire existence for a time. I lost my position as a rightful heir and prince, lost my home and family, and lost my freedom. I stayed alone a very long time little Faery,” his gaze slides to you, glowing molten gold in rage as he remembers. “All alone, because I did the one thing no Faery is allowed to do, the most forbidden art which exists amongst our kind, all for one measly deceitful human.” His lips pull back in a grimace, even as you crawl a little closer.

He likes that your gaze is upon him again, filled with that familiar compassion and empathy he adores. He just loathes it is directed at him because of his disgusting past.

He watches as your tongue dips out to lick your lips, eyes filled with curiosity as you sit beside him, close enough to nearly touch yet not quite.

“What was it?”

“I granted them access to the Tree of Life. The tree which gave birth to all Faery kind.” His expression turns mocking, jaded as he seems to recall with perfect memory. “I had been ready to pluck the stars from the sky for that filthy ungrateful thing, and they dared to use me to gain eternal life by drinking from the tree’s fountain.”

He sees the look of astonishment and horror, clearly upset as realization dawns. It was said the Tree of Life would die if touched by human hands, destroying all of Faery kind should it occur. If it was true or not was unknown.

“…they touched it…?” You broke the dense silence first, curling your limbs around yourself as you feel the itch of your wings notify you of the awkward arch you’ve made with your spine.

Ava barks a dry laugh, dark amusement sparking in his eyes despite the serious story.

“Of course not little flower. My younger sister killed them before they could dare, becoming a hero for all Faery alike for protecting the race against a treacherous prince and a foul greedy human.”

He’s amuses himself with watching you through a small handheld mirror. Decorated in gold and jewels, the delicate ornate trinket has a spell cast to view his target at will.

You were asleep, tired from the seamstresses which had fussed so long over your dresses and you, face peaceful as you rest on the large expanse of his bed.

You sleep where he awoke this morning. Curled into the spot like you’re attempting to reclaim any warmth left over from his own slumber.

“You’re making quite a disgusting face, your majesty~” his eyes narrow as his mood sours in an instant.

“Leave witch.” He hisses, undisguised displeasure painting his sharp features as they scrunch in revolution.

“Make me faery,” a lithe feminine voice hisses back, his eyes finally lifting to acknowledge the vermillion haired woman which had appeared before him. “What has you making such a warm expression? I nearly lost my breakfast seeing it.” She glides more than walks, shamelessly spreading the floor length fur coat wrapped around her open, sitting on the arm chair of his throne.

“And your presence is going to make me gouge your eyes out and feed them to my hounds,” he flashes an equally unfriendly smile, the air becoming volatile towards the witch.

“Don’t act as if I wish to be here anymore than you wish it. You were the one who requested my potion.”

“Your potion not your presence.”

Dark eyes roll with a flutter, her red painted lip curling in disdain as she snaps her fingers, a small wooden box appearing in her palm.

“It cannot be delivered frivolously faery, or so you trust your servants so deeply?” He doesn’t answer.

She laughs, handing the box over with a smile as he pulls out a silver dagger and plunges it into his forearm.

Gold leaks from the wound, the witch quickly frowning and removing an empty vial to collect the liquid.

“Don’t be wasteful now, your blood is in high demand amongst my coven. It’s an incredibly binding agent.”

“Silence or I will bind your tongue for all eternity.”

“As if you could.” She cackles, vanished and gone before his talons could sink into her throat.

The box rests in his free hand. His distaste for the witches strong, but he admits they create the most potent and stable magical concoctions. They’re good in business too. He notes she didn’t allow a single drop of blood to go to waste before his wound sealed and closed.

“Drink for me, petal.”

You look lovely. Dressed lavishly in the finest silks and slowly becoming more confident in your true appearance. You no longer sit before the mirror and grimace, instead you play absently with your wings, more accepting as time continues.

He would rather just take you by force.

This method somewhat feeling beneath him, but in the end, he was already a wicked monster. What was this compared to his true nature?

You still curl or turn away when he touches you, less trusting of him now and though you should be, he finds it irritating. He wants to feel you melt against him again, blink your pretty eyes up at him and whisper his name with your kiss bitten lips.

You eye the delicate glass cup warily.

His clawed hand holding the pretty pink clear cup was nearly comical. He could tell by the quirk of your lip which you quickly tempered to avoid his detection. He caught it all though, still hoping he’s not forced to make you drink it. Though he doesn’t mind the act, pouring the drink in his mouth and laying his lips over your own to create a seal.

You take the cup gingerly with both hands, licking your lips as you bring it close to sniff.

“What is it…?” You look confused, nose scrunching up adorably, and he finds he wishes to kiss you there.

He’s forced to stay where he is though, aware you will wiggle and run if he touches you.

“Tea, made from milk, honey, and dried fruits.”

“It smells sweet…” you still eye him with mistrust, but you take a sip anyway, eyes lighting up as you take another. “It’s very good,” you’re not immune to bribery, “Thank you.”

For just a short moment, he feels his chest warm and a genuine smile grace his lips.

“You’re welcome, little flower. Thank you as well.”

“Huh?” You’ve finished the tea. “What for…?” His smile grows as you tilt your head in confusion.

“For being so foolish.”

You’re burning from the inside out. Tears and drool soaking your face and the bed as you cry out again.

“Why?” Digging your nails into the fabric, you find the texture appalling compared to usual, too rough and cold. “Ava…” you struggle to breathe, chest heaving as perspiration clings to you like a second skin. “It hurts…” you were fading into a blur of dizziness as your lower belly cramped again, more wetness coating your inner thighs.

“Shh…” he coos, ignoring your weak flinch as he slides his long tongue from your chin to your cheek, drinking your tears as his chest rumbles like a giant cat. “Do you need something sweet girl? Use your words.” He murmurs, groaning as he sees the amount of fluid you’ve leaked, your pussy swollen and glistening as you buck your hips and whine.

“Mean—!” He chuckles at your accusation, smiling shamelessly as he continues his chaste kisses against your skin.

“To you, petal? No, mean would be if I left you like this, no release for your poor little body.” He threatens, ignoring your silent pleas and body language for him to touch you more, keeping just enough distance to have you clawing at him to come back. “I’m nice though, I’m going to kindly fill your womb and make it all better.” It’s like a demon whispering in your ear as you writhe beneath him. His large frame cages you though, presses down on you as your bare chests connect and you can feel the thundering in his rib cage through your own. “Are you going to be good and let me breed you, little feary?”

You can’t think. Not when the promise of something hot and big going inside you, stretching you out like your body is begging for now. You nod, mind already gone as your clouded eyes connect with his own. You look high, pupils blown as he brings two fingers to his lips, opening his mouth and breaking off two of his sharp claws to blunt them.

“Spread your legs.” You obey, pliant body opening at his commands as he uses his fingers to dig into your slick gooey hole. He delights in your moans and reactions, hips moving for more friction as he fucks your tight entrance loose enough to take his cock inside you. “That’s it, petal, you don’t need to think anymore. Let go for me,” he murmurs, kissing you gently, tongue melting into your mouth while he digs his fingers up and rubs until you’re coming around his digits.

He pulls them out slowly, eyes drifting down to catch the sticky wet mess you’ve made and the jump of his cock in response. He laughs, deeply to his core as he brings them to his lips and lets you watch him clean them, blissed out expression marred with tears from pleasure and pain.

“You’re mine. For eternity, you will be always be mine.” His eyes are wild, something frightening entering them as he laughs, face so pleased and enamored you feel the urgent sense to crawl away from him, to run. “There is no escaping me. No where you can go that I won’t find you.” You feel too weak and sluggish to move, to even fight back, as his dark hand wraps around your neck, magic and gold swimming beneath his flesh. He feels warm, hotter than even you and your feverish mind. “I am no longer a patient a male, no longer content to wait and watch for results. You deny me, your mate, for humans which wanted to sacrifice you to a false deity, planned to rape and defile you,” he’s squeezing tighter, not cutting off air but blood flow instead as your mind becomes fluffy and unfocused. He speaks directly into your ear, the pointed tip curling down as he settles himself between your thighs. “They wanted to burn you, did you know? They called you a jinx, hated you, only wished you harm and destruction in the most vile and painful ways… and yet you still choose them?” He looks mad, smile filled with malicious intent and eyes glittering like jewels.

You speak with what little focus you have left…

“My sister…loved me.”

His smile falls, eyes narrowing in displeasure.

“Always…she loved me.”

He shakes his head, disapproval clear. “You think she loved you. Humans aren’t capable of love, my sweet flower.”

“You’re wrong…” he halts, watching as you weakly claw at his hold on your neck. “She loved me..! I know she did! You’re wrong! Take it back!” You cough as he releases your throat completely, eyes wide as you look at him with burning resentment even so deep under the influence of an aphrodisiac.

“I love you, but you,” you look filled with hurt, “you don’t love me.”

He’s shocked into silence as you seethe beneath him, face firm and eyes resolute as you declare his feelings for you.

He snarls, snapping his teeth at you, rage filling him as his wings spread out and magic and malice fill the air.

“I am not afraid to punish you, petal. I will not tolerate disrespect—,”

“Neither will I!” Even in tears, shaking as you are, he shifts back, the overwhelming force of your emotions startling him. “You treat me as if I am not worthy of respect, as if I’m not worthy to be listened to. You aren’t—,” you heave for air, struggling to draw in enough oxygen as you whirl on him, “—asking me. For anything. You just take…”

He’s silent, body frozen and tense as he watches you.

“Was it all a lie… when you said you’d be my friend? I thought faery couldn’t lie,” you’re in tears once more, sorrow endlessly streaming down your cheeks.

“No, don’t cry like that,” he feels oddly sick seeing you so upset like this. His frame once more curling around you, but to simply wrap you in the blanket and bring you to his chest. “We are friends, mates, I do not lie.” He whispers, cradling your body to his chest, trying to urge you to look at him.

“Friends don’t sneak away and do things that they know I wouldn’t like,” you calm after a while, swollen tear streaked face turned into his chest while he pets your hair.

He knows it must be painful, still under the effects of the drug he’d given you. His touch helping ease some of the heat.

“Okay. Okay, I was wrong, I…,” his teeth bare as he forces it past his lips, “I apologize…for not respecting your wishes…,” it makes him want to tear one of his hearts out and crush it. His hatred for humans no less despite his apology.

You look hopeful though, eyes returning some of the light he adores within you.

He’ll apologize everyday if he’s allowed to see that.

“Oh gods…!”

He’s trying to kill you. He must be.

You can’t struggle away though, no escape in sight, and true to his word Ava has filled your womb over and over again. You’re delirious on the pleasure, the second his heavy cock had entered you the earlier burning pain subsided into mind numbing euphoria. Each powerful snap of his hips has your body jolting upward, one large palm wrapped around your neck keeping you anchored. You could feel every vein and inch searing into you, eyes going in and out of focus on him face as he heaves for air and fucks you into another orgasm.

“Please, more, I need more—!” You’re reduced to a tearful mess, wantonly begging for his seed as he grimaces and fills you up again, balls drawing up tight as your cunt ripples around his length.

His face is ruined, eyes more red than gold as his pupils remain blown out, thick lashes holding a small cluster of tears as he licks his lips and continues his ravenous pace inside you. His hair clings to his face and horns, black curls damp with sweat and your cum, taking on a nearly purple hue. He wears a delirious expression like you, drugged out into oblivion as you both pant and moan as the heat devours you.

He’d felt badly for drugging you, especially as you writhed and cried in pain. His solution had not been to find the witch he’d bought the elixir from though.

He’d simply drank the remaining fluid while smiling mischievously.

“Let’s just fall into complete depravity petal,” he’d said, before your world went in and out of darkness. Only the scent of sugar and spices dominated your brain, and the feeling of fullness and completion each time he spilled his load within you.

“Are you ready for another sweet faery?” He knew you couldn’t answer, knew that words were too far away for your cotton filled mind to conjure. He asks anyway, drawing your hips off the bed, leaving your upper body limp on the soaked silks while he bounces you on and off his cock. “I’ve always known it is hard for Fae to conceive.” He speaks with a slur, as if it is liquor intoxicating him and not a lustful spell. He laughs as you cum around him, moan so breathy it appears like a silent scream as your back arches higher. “I have a good feeling it will not apply to us.” He nods, slamming down to the hilt as he collapses on you while he comes too, nose buried in your collar bone as he humps out his remaining seed and presses deep to ensure it stays.

“I think your little cunt likes being bred, gripping me so tightly so I can’t leave it,” he huffs, breathing labored as he sees you’ve lost consciousness again.

“Looks who’s mean now…” he murmurs tiredly, but his smile is fresh as he licks up your sweat and tears, cock already hardening again as blood swims in his ears like a river.

“I can’t anymore—!” It’s a squeal and a whine mixed, as Ava grunts against your throat.

“Can’t what, petal?” He asks rhetorically, humming as he slowly rolls your hardened nipple between two clawed fingers. His free hand between your legs, messily rubbing your clit as he works his cock inside you. His thrusts are no longer as violent or heavy as they were two days prior when he’d taken the drug, but his body still howled to press you flat and fill you up. To mark his mate up for all to see.

You look divine to him, too weary to even bite him anymore, nails broken from scratching at his back and arms when he’d blacked out and taken you too roughly. Even still, you looked beautiful, skin less sweat soaked and more simply damp, his care to ensure you drank water paying off in between rounds of riding him.

“I think your cunt has finally relaxed,” he teases, enjoying the sloppy squelching which echoes as he drives into you, your pussy indeed finally accepting it’s fate to be subjected to his cock for eternity. “Your womb has dropped too,” his hand stops torturing your clit to press on your lower belly, purring as you weakly complain.

“Let me rest…”

“No. I took the drug later than you, so it’s still in effect for me.” He chuckles, merrily still using your exhausted body. “Just a little more sweet girl, be good for me,” he moans, head falling back as his eyes close in bliss, cock twitching once again to fill you up.

“I truly am…with child?” His eyes are as wide as your own, cradling you close away from the vermillion haired woman who sneers at Ava.

Rolling her eyes, she nods, fingers pressed to her temples as if her mind is aching.

“Yes. You are with child, as I’ve confirmed four times already. Congratulations little Queen, you managed to love the unlovable.”

“Watch your tone and words witch,”

“My race is not an insult you foul monster—!”

They halt as you giggle, features radiant as you smile and hold your hands over your belly.

“A baby!” Ava is stricken at your delight, throat closing as something sweet tickles him inside. Your floral scent warmer these days, his keen hearing picking up on the second beating of a heart quickly.

“Yes,” he nods, like a love sick dog he grins and answers each time your repeat it in amazement.

The witch truly feels revolted to her core, but wordlessly leaves a book for new faery parents. Leaving without thanks as the happy family gushes over the good news.

As if the disgusting King didn’t know how powerful an aphrodisiac and fertility drug he used on his mate was.

She shrugs, teleporting away to her coven to return to work, minutely pitying the poor faery captured by the dark Fae.

They’re the only fae that can lie after all.

Dividers/@cafekistune

#Fae #Dark Fae King #Yandere Fae #Yandere Fae x Fem! Darling #yandere x darling #male yandere x fem darling #Dark fae king x changeling reader #part 2 #faecore #yancore #monster smut #faery smut #fae smut #yandere smut

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peach-top · 1 month ago

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❝oops~ wrong one~❞

❝ 𝙑𝙄𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ! ❞

➤ ACT I. | CHAPTER V.

➤ ✨SHADOW MILK COOKIE✨

White Lily is trying to reverse the red spider lilies back to white lilies, but unfortunately she was unable to return them back. This is definitely Red Spider Lily’s doings. This way everyone knows that he will return.

“Does this always look like this or this is the first time that happens?” [Y] asked as he crouched down to the lilies. Silverbell frowned, “It never does this before. It's not a good sign either.”

“...” [Y] reached out to touch the lilies, changing the color from red to yellow, much to the other surprise. The wanderer blinked bewilderingly, “Oh?”

“You changed the color with only a touch. How are you doing this?” Elder Faerie asked.

“I didn't do anything. I just touched the flower, that's all. I don't know what exactly happened.” [Y] held his hands up in defense. “I have magic, but I'm not always aware of it.”

❝no wonder you look so familiar. yet so different…❞ a voice spoke, grabbing the former guard’s attention.

❝look! look! guess who?! guess who?! where's the popcorn?!❞

[Y] looked behind him to look for the person responsible for the voice, but no one was there, “...?”

“Hm…” Elder Faerie hummed.

❝that author accidentally created more space. don't look at me~❞

White Lily and [Y] arrived at the library to look for a book. Well, specifically White Lily is looking for a book to do some research about Red Spider Lily Cookie. There's no results on Red Spider Lily, with that being said, she used the Watcher as a result. That title sends the shiver down the librarian’s spine, but they give the female the location of the book.

[Y], on the other hand, just wanted to read more books. He and White Lily went separate ways to find the books they're looking for. Strangely, [Y] been seeing eyes watching him, no one seemed to notice but him. There are eyes everywhere.

❝here it comes~❞

“...Is someone there?” [Y] asked. He felt something gently playing with his hair.

❝i see no horns or eye on his forehead. this can't be him, right? but…i could've sworn this is him. my eyes isn't deceiving me, right?❞ someone spoke. [Y] flinched slightly when the person hang above him upside down, staring into his eyes, ❝no one can see me right since i’m still stuck in that tree.❞

[Y] hissed in pain when the spirit figure poke him in the eye, “Ow. It's rude to poke someone in the eye.”

❝…❞

“...”

the spirit awed, ❝whaaaa?! you see me?! wait— are you talking to me?❞

“Yes. Who else could it be?” [Y] raised his eyebrows. “Are you a faerie? You don't look like one. Are you lost?”

❝of course not! how can you not know who i am?! allow me to introduce…❞ the spirit grinned. ❝the world's finest playwright, poet, director, actor, clown... everyone's most beloved trickster! ... Shadow Milk Cookie!❞

“Shadow Milk Cookie…?” [Y] tilted his head. “Never heard of you.”

Shadow Milk grabbed the wanderer by the shoulder, ❝how can you not remember?! you're red spider lily cookie! we're buddies!❞

[Y] frowned, “Sorry, but…I don't know any Shadow Milk Cookie nor do I think I am Red Spider Lily Cookie.”

❝…❞ Shadow Milk Cookie’s eyes widened. He felt betrayed and sad that his lost friend lost his memory of him. His companions. ❝whatever happen…do you not remember me at all…?❞

“Sorry. I was reborn with no memories of my past.” The wanderer apologized. Shadow Milk Cookie frowned, ❝hmph. they must've removed your memory of us after you were reborn as a different person! once i get my hand on that fool king, i’ll make sure he suffers and that…white lily cookie…! oooh! i despise them!❞

“...She's my friend, you know. I think…” [Y] mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

❝tch! how annoying. how can my own friend pick to side with those cookies…❞ Shadow Milk Cookie scowled, but then smile, ❝No worries. Even if you lost your memories, i’m not leaving your side, friend~ we're gonna be best friends! forever and ever~❞

“...I don't mind. As long as you didn't do anything mischief.” [Y] said, catching Shadow Milk Cookie by surprise.

❝that easily??? what if i’m lying to you? what if i betrayed you?❞ Shadow Milk Cookie questioned.

[Y] tilted his head, “I can easily tell whether you're lying or not. Even if you're a menace, you still have a soft spot for your friend.”

❝…❞ the spirit sulked, crossing his arms. ❝knowing you see through my lies is sometimes never fun.❞

“I can't even lie, but I can keep secrets. They're different…right?” the wanderer tilted his head. He's not sure if secrets and lies are the same thing.

Shadow Milk sweatdropped, ❝I can imagine the face you'll make when you're lying…still, we're besties. you can't break our bonds.❞

“Sure.”

❝thank you! thank you for witnessing the greatest performance of SHADOW MILK COOKIE. unfortunately, this chapter was a rush because the author is certainly doesn't have a creative mind at the moment...oh! if i may mention, the writer would like to open the request box soon...! you'll see~❞

☞ chapter iv.

☞ chapter vi.

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #cookie run x reader #crk x reader #crk x you #cookie run x you #cookie run x male reader #crk x male reader #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk cookie #white lily cookie #elder faerie cookie #silverbell cookie

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running-with-kn1ves · 9 months ago

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Faeries and Giants

A/N: Thanks that one anon for this idea! took my own spin on it >:DD

Content Warning: Held hostage by a giant, mentioned consumption of humanoid creatures, kidnapping

Synopsis: Life isn’t all great being a faerie in a world of giants, elves and dwarves-- of which, some are keen on plucking you from the forest floor like a berry and keeping you to themselves.

“So… delicate,” plump fingers outlined the crisp glass of your wings, their luminescence almost blinding to the giant. Your teensy, human-like frailty was some sort of evolutionary mistake-- how could you survive in these woods for so many decades, for centuries? You and your kind were mini parasites-- although delicious, and cute to play with, ultimately not meant to survive in this world where big bad wolves and giants ten times your size could pick you up like an acorn and snap you like a tall blade of grass.

“Get your dirty paws-- OFF!” You kicked and bit with feral haste, clothes of leaf and twine breaking each time the giant poked and prodded at your pudgy, elongated features. One wrong tug and your arm or leg could come twisting off, your wings tarnished and ripped to fragments if he so pleased.

“Settle down now, little one,” He let out a roar of a laugh, shaking down through his palms to his feet, making the earth beneath him crumble. “You’ll get hurt worming around so much!”

You shrieked at the gentle touch against your bare sole, the giant playing with your toes and fingers as he stretches and bends your limbs.

“Please--urk, put me down! I’m not meant to be this high, I, I need to get back to the ground-- let me go!”

“Ah, but aren’t you meant for the skies, little beast? What else are these… appendages for. Mere sparkly decoration?”

He runs a finger down the middle of your back, touching the sinewy fiber connecting translucent wings to your spine. You shivered, physically jolting at the uncomfortable, warmly touch.

Your wings were drenched-- wrinkled and sopping from the “quick dip” the giant holding you thought would be a good idea before scooping you up like a pretty pebble. His previous…encounters with your kind must’ve prepared him well for the fluttery agility your poor wings could provide.

“Hm, do you like that?” The giant groans in heightened interest, resting his cheek in his hand as he holds you in the other. “The fairies I’ve met are far less dainty, withholding far more… animosity. Of course, they had been well-versed in magic and spells moreso than you seem to be. Far more appetizing, too. But you… you almost look like a stout sapling, useless in all endeavors besides your adorable little figure!”

….Appetizing?

Looking to the Giant’s pocket, you can see them there….Wings, some crumped to shards, others merely bent, stuffed in his trousers with shimmering pinks and golds and blues-- cleanly picked off of whatever faerie they belonged to.

“You… they’ve been disappearing, because of you! Collecting their poor wings…You’re a monster! My friends, eaten and killed--!”

The giant brought you to his eyes for closer inspection, pools of lake green beneath his moppy silvering and unkempt hair. He observed the river of tears falling from your face, your nose dripping and stuffy as you beat against his hand.

“Why yes! We seem to agree on something; I am a monster of the forest-- as are you, and your thieving little fellow faeries. Stealing from my livestock, shoveling everything they can find into their mouths, attempting to poison and spitroast and maim me--” He brushes a tan knuckle against your cheek, smooshing it in an attempt to wipe away your tears. “And so I eat them-- which ever ones manage to cross me, choosing to arise my wrath. It’s the circle of life, my little winged beast.”

He chuckles at the nickname, gazing at you slumped over on the creases of his palm, calloused from a life of barreling trees and tending to his oversized farm on the outskirts of your fae hamlet.

You were too high to jump from his palm at this height, even with his fingers no longer tightly wound around you. If you tried to fly now-- you’d be as good as dead.

“S..so, what’re you gonna do, with me?”

You wipe away your tears, trying to see the giant clearly this time; maybe you could pinpoint a weak area of his, something to make him drop you-- it’d be better than spending eternity in his palm, or his stomach.

“So precious… What do you think? Should I eat you?” He grins, a large straw of wheat hanging from betwixt his lips.

You shake your head rapidly, attempting to reach for the dagger in your leather boot.

“No, no. Of course not, I can’t rid myself of such a cute fae like you, even if I despise the rest of your species--” He delicately takes his thumb and pointer finger to your cheeks, squeezing them to puff out your lips. “I enjoy your itsy-bitsy presence too much… perhaps I’ll keep you where the birds used to lay; the cage is quite spacious, right in the kitchen. I’ll make a soft bed of chicken feathers for you, a table just big enough to do your faerie crafts and harmless little spells on.” The giant smiles softly, touching the bare of your collar uncovered by leaf and leather cloth. “I’ll bring trinkets from the valley for you to do with as you please, cook hearty meals for us to share, even let you out to be coddled and touched every now and again-- how does that sound?”

You were quick to shake your head, tempted to stab at his palm with your dagger, but an irked expression ran across the giant’s lips as his gaze fell to the grassy plain beneath him.

“Your friend here however, will not be staying.” He holds you tightly again-- squeezing enough to keep you in the dark of his palm. It was warm and of an earthy smell, almost too tight for your cold body. You're abruptly tucked into the giants shirt pocket, a finger over your mouth and eyes that forced you into muted darkness.

Even with your fabricated blindness, you could here the breathy grunts of a familiar voice-- unmistakably from a woodland elf, the glass-shattering vocal chords of a creature who could burst ear drums if he so desired. You didn’t know for sure, but you had a reasonable guess of which elf in particular who seemed to be fighting a mountain of a giant in your honor. An unforgettable, certainly imbecilic ignoramus elf who tailed you everywhere you went in hopes that, this time you would accept his smitten betrothal request.

You swam against fabric tugging you downward to reach the shirt pocket’s opening, wincing as the giant holding you captive yelped out.

“Gah! he stabbed me, the little fucking imp!”

It's the first you've heard him curse with such venom, mouth curling into a snarl as he bends to pick up the wooden sword-swinging elf at his boot.

The elf screamed out your name, trying to cut at the scarred fingers holding him hostage. You reached out to him from beneath your pocket enclosure before the giant flicked you on the head, holding your savior far out by the tips of his fingers.

“Ah look here, your knight in shining armor… hah, too bad, he looks absolutely delectable.”

The giant’s irritation was growing by the second, keeping a hand over you in his pocket as he shakes the elf around furiously.

“No--! please don't eat him, he just-- Let us go, he has nothing to do with this!” You tug against the giant’s button up, watching your elf companion swing around his needle-like sword at the giant holding him up by his collar.

The giant laughed, eyes crinkling as his chiseled chest bumped against your back.

“Don't fret sweet faerie, I’m not so brutal as to consume a creature like this raw; by all means, he’s coming home with us. How long he lasts- that's up to you.”

The giant stood from his crouched position on the grassy knoll, heavy boots digging into the grass to make muddy imprints. He dangled the elf out forward, watching as the poor creature sweat bullets while looking at you helplessly.

“Let my faerie-- go!” The tiny voice felt so far away, different than the usually grating elf’s voice you were accustomed to getting frightened by.

The giant places his fingers into his shirt pocket, nudging you with them in a powerful caress.

“You'll remain my little darling-- while our elf friend here, remains where he belongs-- in the pigpen. Together, we can find a punishment suitable for him.”

You didn’t like the sound of that. With one heavy foot in front of the other, the giant started toward a thatched roof cabin in the grassy distance.

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starsandink13 · 2 months ago

Text

The White Crow Game Chapter 9

"This is ridiculous," you sighed, looking down at the tiny key in your hand. You glanced at your haggard reflection in the polished window and let out a heavy sigh. Damn, I look way worse than I thought.

You stared into your reflections' eyes for a while before taking a deep breath.

Here goes nothing. You closed your eyes and steeled yourself for whatever may be in the garden. You thrusted the key into the glass and twisted it counter-clockwise. The window swung open as a bright light came from it, nearly blinding you. You put a hand over your eyes to shield out some of the light as you entered.

White enveloped you for a brief moment, leaving you dazed for a few moments with a slight ringing in your ear. After a minute you slowly regained your senses. When your vision cleared, you hitched your breath as you took in the lush scenery in front of you.

The garden sprawled in every direction as far as you could see with trails of stone pathways scrawled in various directions like gray veins. Moonflowers bloomed like small full moons, entangling themselves among black thorned vines and phantom-purple roses. Red poppies bloomed like droplets of blood among the dark foliage. Tall weeping willows looked like elongated fingers grazing the ground. The wisteria trees looked mourners in widow veils as a soft wind ruffled them ever so slightly. A black spiked fence that was almost the height of the mansion itself with dark ivy wrapped around it like serpents. The full moon was in full sight, the moonbeams gave the gardens a heavenly yet eldritch glow to them.

The beauty of it nearly made you forget about the game until you saw statues of Corvin with crows perched on his shoulders and snakes coiled by his feet among the foliage.

Come on, keep your head in the game! You shuddered at what happened back at the gallery, readying yourself for whatever trap that Corvin had laid out. You glanced at a statue before walking towards where the pathway splintered into three directions: left, middle, and right. You licked your teeth, every muscle in your body clenching with dread. You pulled out the fire poker and pressed forward on the middle path. The only sound was of your footsteps on the cobblestone pathway and the occasional cawing of an unseen crow.

The otherwise lack of sound was dreadful, you knew that this was only the calm before danger. Each step you took made it feel as if your feet were made of stones. You gripped the fire poker tighter, your sweaty palm made it harder to hold on. Each sound and movement made you on edge. You stopped when you saw a white sheet of paper among the roses and leaves. Hesitantly, you brushed aside the leaves and took it. In neat cursive handwriting was the following:

Meet me at the pond. I have a surprise for you there!

Yours truly,

Corvin

You closed your eyes and shook your head, crumpling the note in your hand. Let me guess, another death trap?

You gave a look over your shoulder to make sure that you weren't being stalked before storming further into the garden. Occasionally, you passed underneath a stone arch that was covered in moss and draped with vines. The perfumed air became stronger, clinging to you like a lusty lover. Your head became hazy, you felt weightless as a white mist began to creep through the garden like thin, ghostly fingers. You shivered as a cold wind blew through the gardens, making your cheeks fluster. You stopped when you heard the rustling of branches and leaves.

Snapping your head in the direction of the sound, you saw white scales slithering among the bushes. A bead of sweat dripped down your neck and you clenched the fire poker tighter. You took a small step away from the bushes and readied your weapon. The rustling became louder and you slowly raised your poker in the air.

"Oh (Y/N), I wonder wherever you may be..." Corvin's voice echoed out all around you. "I certainly hope that she saw my note."

You turned your head around, trying to look for where the fairy was in vain before letting out a growl of frustration. You took another step back from the bushes before continuing, making sure to look behind you every now and then. The mist was becoming thicker, making it difficult to traverse through the gardens as it casted a ghostly veil to everything, making it look even more otherwordly. Your trepidation was becoming stronger; it was squirming and thrashing in your stomach and made you feel as if pins were being stuck into you. It felt like you were walking for eternity; forever trapped in a labyrinth of vines, roses, and mist.

In the horizon, maybe another thirty feet or so, was a vast pond with glittering black waters and a gazebo with black roses and morning glories wrapping themselves on the columns. However, there was no sign of Corvin to be seen.

"God damn it..." you growled and walked up to the gazebo, sticking your head into it. There was still no Corvin.

"Corvin!" You yelled out, half-expecting the fairy to appear out of thin air with a taunt.

You were about to call out again, when you felt a set of eyes staring into the back of your neck and heard a small hissing sound.

Something was behind you.

Slowly, you turned around to see a the largest white snake snake you ever saw mere yards away from you. It was coiled up, readying to strike. Its red and gold eyes shined with a predatory light. The serpent hissed at you, baring its venom-tipped fangs. You screamed, clenching your eyes and slashed at the air with your poker. You heard a low chuckle and opened your eyes to see Corvin looking at you.

"Got you, didn't I?" He smirked and took off his coat and hat.

You glared at the fairy and clenched your teeth, trying to smother your urge to strike him with in the jaw.

"So, how do you like the gardens so far?" He asked and sat down on a bench in the gazebo, stretching his arms over the back of it with one leg crossed over the other. "It took me forever to find the perfect hydrangeas to line this pathway and that's not talking about how much it costed me to commission those statues."

You shook your head and crossed your arms over your chest.

"You know, I was quite surprised that you remembered the rules." He said. "I would think from your exhaustion and desperation you would have forgotten about the terms and taken up his offer."

You didn't speak.

Corvin looked up at the sky and inhaled the fresh night air. "It really is a lovely night."

"You done?" You spat.

"Done with what?"

"Gloating."

"I wasn't gloating, my dear. Just merely teasing you."

"Same thing-- and I know what you're up to," you pointed a finger into his chest.

"And what would that be? Haven't I been transparent with you?" He yawned.

"Stop playing stupid. You know exactly what I am referring to!" You growled.

"My dear, you do realize that there are multiple ways to achieve something, yes?" He stretched out his back and neck. He took off his hat, coat, and waistcoat before unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt: revealing a sculpted and toned torso.

"Tonight's so nice," he breathed. "There's very little that could compare to the cool night air on your skin."

Your fists tightened as you bit your lip.

"Except for the feeling of your touch," he continued. "Whether it'd be as something as sweet as a kiss or as painful as a bite: Not even the finest silks nor furs in existence could compare to the feeling of you."

"Are you admitting to being a masochist?" You spat.

"Only if it's you," he responded with a wink.

"Gross," you shuddered, prompting a hearty laugh from him.

"My, as scathing as usual." He sighed. "Enjoy a small break from all of the excitement and the night air for a bit with me."

You rolled your eyes and spun around to exit the gazebo, only to run face-first in an invisible wall.

"Hey!" You exclaimed and slapped your hand against it. "Get rid of this now!"

"Only if you take a break," he said.

"Oh come on!"

"Then you will have to stay here until you do so."

Growling, you sat down a foot away from him and folded your arms close to your chest. Corvin gave you a smirk before pulling a colorless lock of hair behind his ear.

"You know, I feel like there's something missing here," he put his fingers to his lower lip. "Oh I know."

Candles suddenly appeared and floated above you in a circle. Their tiny flames flickered and danced, casting a warm white glow. You looked to see that a small table with a bottle of red wine and two crystal glasses were in front of you. Corvin opened the bottle and poured it into the glasses. He handed one to you and raised his own glass before taking a sip from it.

"This is your third drink. Are you drunk?" You looked at him in disbelief.

Corvin laughed. "No. Fairies can't get drunk. It's why so many of us love drinking games; it provides an excellent opportunity for us to toy with humans. It makes them tell secrets they would never say, makes them make rash decisions that come with grave consequences, make them show who they truly are underneath their sober facade. In vino veritas as the ancient Romans say."

You took a sigh and shook your head. "Anyways-- the forms that you can take are that of a raven, a snake, and a humanoid, right?"

"That's not all of them." He responded and took another drink. "Like I said, us fairies can take many forms. Some a bit more charming than others."

As Corvin said this, he transformed into a giant white fox with red eyes. His lips curled into a smile with shining teeth that looked like little blades. He lowered his head slightly and towards you.

"What's wrong? I thought you liked foxes." His ears drooped down and frowned.

"Not if it's you," you spat.

"So mean," he responded and stretched out his back, his tail shivering before sitting down again.

"Why do you have the gates so high?"

"To keep any unwanted visitors from trying to enter," he answered. "You'd be surprised given my reputation among my kind that there's a few cheeky ones that will try to trespass."

"Was that puppet of you one of those trespassers?"

"Don't think about that thing. It's already been dealt with. Focus on us instead."

"By 'us', you mean 'you'."

"And yourself as well," Corvin returned back to his human form. "I'm thinking of having another gazebo, probably placing it on the far right corner on the tallest hill and have a ring of lilies surrounding it. What do you think?"

"I don't care," you responded. "You can do whatever the hell you please with this garden after the game."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," he said and looked out to the pond.

"Anyways," he cracked his back and with a wave of his hand, the glasses, bottle and table disappeared into thin air. "You can leave now if you want to."

"Shame. I was starting to enjoy our talks," you responded sarcastically.

"Oh really?" Corvin fluttered a hand over his heart.

"Of course not!" You rolled your eyes.

The fairy threw his head back in laughter and slapped a hand over his knee. "My dear, you're just... so much fun. There's nothing that could compare to you!"

"I'm so flattered," you scoffed, "Now I'm really starting to go."

"Alright then, I'll see you-- wait, don't!" He yelled.

You turned your head to him with a quizzical and annoyed look.

"I can't believe that I forgot to show you the surprise," he let out a small groan of annoyance and grabbed your wrist, dragging you back into the gazebo. Before you could protest, he pulled out a crimson box with a moon-white ribbon wrapped around it from his coat. You looked up at the fairy with a raised eyebrow.

"Open it," he said with a smile.

You stared at his face, studying for any signs of hidden and intentions before the box for several seconds, you looked back at him and shook your head. "I have to get going. Now."

"Please open it, I promise this isn't a trap." He insisted.

You resigned with a sigh and pulled the ribbon off. With shaking hands, you slowly pulled off the lid, anticipating for the worst to come. Inside, was a pair of fine silk gloves the color of freshly-spilt blood and pearl buttons.

"It's something for you to remember me by," Corvin smiled.

"Is that an admittance of defeat?" You put your hand on your hip.

"Oh how you wish," he chuckled. "Besides, isn't it nice to receive a gift by a paramour so that you always have a small part of them no matter where you are?"

"Is that what you think of yourself?" You scoffed.

"Of course, why else wouldn't I?"

"I can think of many, many reasons."

"Such as?"

"I think you know why," you spat.

"And I can think of many reasons why you should consider me your paramour," he responded. "The gloves are one example, and so is turning your life around for the better another one."

You glared at him and clenched your jaw.

"And those are just the start of them," he put a hand on your shoulder. "There are so many more that I can give."

"Like a migraine?"

Corvin smiled wider and gave you shoulder a slight squeeze, "Or maybe a kiss..." he breathed huskily.

You tightened your fists. "No. And certainly not from you."

He frowned and let go of you before putting his coat back on. "You certainly know how to ruin the mood."

"And so do you," you spat back.

"I at least try to make it better," he huffed and straightened out the front of his clothes before putting his hat back on. "I'll leave you to your own devices now."

As he walked past by you, a pen dropped from his pocket. You were about to call out to him, but by then he had disappeared into the mist.

You looked at the pen and picked it up. It was a red dip pin with gold accents, embedded into it was his symbol of the eye and crescent moon. The faint smell of absinthe and smoke came from it that you suspected must have been some of his perfume rubbing off onto it. You stuffed the pen into your satchel and gave one last glance over your shoulder before leaving.

The mist had receded a bit, making it easier for you to see your way. You walked briskly back to the mansion, not wanting to find whatever lurks or has managed to break into here. After walking for a while, you noticed that you were in a much different area than before. Here, the foliage was thicker as nature had decided to reclaim a part of the garden. The mist was also denser than before. The darkness was much stronger as well, due to the overgrown trees blocking out most of the moonlight. Your sense of dread heightened and a harsh chill ran up your limbs.

It felt as if countless unseen eyes were trained on you. You could almost hear the tiny, demonic snickers coming from the darkness. You shivered, feeling as if phantom claws grazing were at you as you trudged onwards, praying that you would see the mansion soon. You held your poker closer, readying yourself for whatever may stalk you through the cover of darkness.

A raven let out a low, mournful croak as you waded through the tall grasses and untamed bushes. Your skin felt as if tiny insects were crawling beneath; almost all of the light was extinguished, leaving you in almost complete darkness.

That's when you felt it-- the same overwhelming sense of dread that you felt back at the theater. You almost immediately crumpled to your knees, planting the poker into the dirt for support. Gasping for air, you shakily stood up and walked away as quietly as you could. However, the overwhelming primal fear inside of you grew stronger. It festered its way deep into you, filling every last bit of your being with terror.

Keep moving until you can't feel it anymore. You clenched your jaw and held the poker out in front of you like it was a sword. Every sound to your ears sounded like thunder, from the crunching of the grass beneath your feet to the ravens' croakings.

You froze when you saw a thin, silvery line that stretched from one tree to the other. It was a massive spiderweb that hung all the way to the ground, brushing against the rocks and tall grasses. But what disturbed you the most was the several human-sized and shaped cocoons. They were still writhing and letting out muffled, screams of pure terror.

You put a hand over your mouth and held the fire poker closer to you. Your heart rate spiked; every part of you was screaming for you to run but you remained planted to the spot. The horror inside you grew ten-fold as a spider twice your size and as dark as night crept down the web. Its back was towards you: revealing the black underbelly of the beast.

The spider approached one of the screaming cocoons and pierced into it with its chelicerae. The victim inside screamed louder as the venom was injected, shaking violently before being reduced to pathetic sobbing. Slowly, the victim stopped moving and the spider began to feed by sucking out the liquified corpse inside.

Your stomach churned and you ran away from the arachnid as quietly as you could. Your nausea became stronger the further you ran, the bile rising in your throat became more sour. You ran until you stopped to vomit behind a bush. You gagged and groaned heavily, holding onto a tree for support. When the last of it was out, you shuddered and wiped away the last of your vomit with your wrist, heaving.

Something dusty-white dropped from the tree next to you. You snapped your head to see a cocooned victim, their head was turned to you: revealing a withered face that was little more than jaundiced skin stretched over bones. Their face was contorted into a permanent, soundless scream of fear and agony.

A cry of horror came from your throat and began to run. Something large and heavy rustled in the trees above you-- and moving fast. Your terror spiked and you ran even faster. Beads of sweat ran down your face and soaked the neckline of your shirt. The thing landed to the ground with a loud thud that sent up clouds of dirt and leaves upwards.

You look behind you to see the black spider facing you. It had a humanoid head with white fangs in place of its jaw. All of its countless, black soulless eyes on were trained on you, shining with a predatory hunger. The spider lunged at you and you turned to the side-- barely avoiding being crushed underneath it.

The arachnid let out a hiss and you scrambled away from it. Your breath came out in short huffs as the spider continued to pursue above you. Branches snapped and fell underneath its heavy weight. You ducked as a webbed-up corpse fell behind you and hit the ground with a dry crunch. Keeping your head low as you ran, avoiding the silk threads that suddenly appeared.

Your foot snagged over a gnarled tree root-- and you fell onto your stomach. Your poker clattered a few feet away from your hand. Pain shot through your torso and you let out a hiss through your teeth. The spider dropped down, its ravenous eyes were staring into yours. You screamed as the spider reared its head up. The moonlight caught a glint of its venom-coated fangs.

You scrambled away in time to avoid getting bit and grabbed your poker. You stabbed the spider in its jaw as it was about to ready another attack. The arachnid let out a piercing shriek and you jumped onto its back. The spider rammed into a tree repeatedly, but you still held on. Your heart hammering in your chest as you readied your poker for another blow.

Come on, come on! You wheezed, your sweaty hands making it difficult for you to keep your grip. The monster banged its side into another tree. Your body jolted and you nearly lost your grip. You clenched your weapon tighter and thrusted it into the air like it was a sword.

With a scream, you plunged the poker into its back. Black, oily blood gushed out of it and the arachnid let out a shattering screech. It whacked harder against the tree, making branches snapping into the ground.

Grunting, you pulled out the poker and stabbed it again, deeper than you did before. The spider let out another shrill cry and battered harder and faster than before against the tree. The force of it made you fall off its back but you still held onto the poker. You screamed and stabbed it in the eye. The arachnid threw itself backwards, tumbling onto its back and exposing its stomach.

Without wasting another second, you plunged the poker into its stomach. Twisting it deeper and deeper until you couldn't any more. Glittering, black blood spurted out before it began to ooze out of its torso. The arachnid gave one last weak cry of agony before convulsing, curling its legs inwards, and going stiff.

You watched in amazement as the dead spider dissolve into itself, leaving behind a fragment of a marble mask. You prodded at the fragment with the poker to get a better look at it without picking it up. It was of someone's right eye and eyebrow, the edges of it were jagged as if it had been snapped off. Hesitantly, you picked up the fragment and put it into your satchel. Hopefully it would be useful later on.

A low hissing sound came from behind you. Whipping your head, you saw an even larger white spider crawling down the tree. Its red eyes were on yours and its fangs were bared. The spider dropped to the ground and readied itself into a pouncing position.

You screamed and raised the poker at the spider, thrusting your poker at its head. As you were about to pierce its brain, a hand shot out and grabbed it.

"W-what?" You gasped and a familiar chuckle came from the spider.

You watched as the spider's head slowly transformed into the top-half of Corvin. "Now is the part where you say that I'm the worst, isn't it?"

You scoffed at him and yanked your poker out of his hand, nearly falling onto your back in the process.

"Why the hell are you here?" You demanded, pointing the poker at him.

"I wanted to see what you would do in this part of the garden," he answered and stretched out his back. "Granted, it is rather easy to get lost in if you aren't as familiar with the layout as I am, which is where most trespassers meet their end."

"Lovely," you sighed and took a seat on a bench with moss creeping up its sides.

"But those that survive their encounter with the spiders...well, they have to deal with me," he chuckled and fully transformed into his human-like form. He adjusted the front of his coat and took a seat beside you.

"Did you say spiders? As in plural?" You blinked.

"Yes," he nodded his head. "They were a gift from my cousin, the fairy king, for my four-hundredth birthday. I've had them for quite a while."

Upon hearing this, you stood up and briskly walked away from Corvin.

"You know, you're going to end up lost again." He called out. "So unless you want to run into another spider or something else in this mist, you'll need me to guide you back to the mansion."

You closed your eyes and exhaled an annoyed groan. "Fine. Lead the way."

Smirking, he linked your arm with his at the elbows. "Just a precaution," he said when you gave him a withering glare.

A feeling of disgust crawled down your back and you swallowed back the impulse to gag. You could only hope that Corvin was merciful enough to make it as quick as possible or wouldn't talk as much. Unfortunately, he saw this as a perfect opportunity to irritate you further.

"I see you forgot your gift from me," he said with a small sigh. "Luckily, one of the statues was so kind as to retrieve it. Make sure to keep it safe from now on. I spent so much time trying to find the perfect fabric and the best tailor for it."

You didn't respond to him; instead clenching your hands tighter, earning a coy look from him.

"My, are you starting to warm up to me?" He winked.

You bit your lower lip, barely registering the sting of it or the taste of blood. Why can't he shut up for one minute?

The two of you walked through the misty path as he continued to talk, trying to pry you into responding. The mist became stronger than before, making it feel as if you were walking through a cold, gray wall. You shivered slightly and pulled your jacket closer to yourself.

"Would you like my coat?" Corvin offered.

"No," you spat and kept your eyes forward, not wanting to make eye contact with the fairy.

"No need to be so stubborn," he and held your hand tighter. "It'd be a shame if you died from the cold when you're making quite a lot of progress-- especially compared to the other humans that have been here."

"I'm not going to die from the cold," you scoffed.

"I wouldn't be so sure," he continued. "The weather in places that border between the two worlds can get rather unpredictable. It could be the middle of summer and suddenly, you're caught in a blizzard or it'd be a sunny day one minute and the next a terrible thunderstorm is coming down."

"I will be fine," you said through gritted teeth.

"Oh well," he sighed, "At least I tried to warn you."

You didn't respond to his comment and continued looking forward, hoping that you were near the mansion already. Closing your eyes, you tried to focus if there was at any point a clue that you missed regarding the location of the front door key.

"(Y/N), what are you thinking about?" The fairy cooed. "Our wedding?"

Despite the urge to elbow him, you focused on the locations you have been. You were pretty sure that you didn't miss a clue, but you weren't entirely certain. Especially given his love to make you revisit places that you have already been to.

"Or maybe you're thinking about the many years that we'll spend together."

Your shoulders shook as you clenched your eyes. Maybe he hid it in the kitchen or one of his many parlors or a--

"Or perhaps you're planning on how many--"

"Will you shut up!" You snapped.

Corvin smirked at you and pulled you closer to him; the top of your shoulder was brushing up against his bicep, suddenly reminded of how much taller he was than you. Your skin broke into small bumps and you looked down at the fire poker. After walking through the mist for what felt like an eternity, you finally saw the back of the estate.

"Such a shame that it has to end so soon," Corvin clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Well anyways, I hope you enjoyed our little romantic stroll as much as I did."

With a hard yank, you pulled your hand out of his and pushed against the double doors. They remained shut despite pushing against them with all of your weight.

"Oh yes, they're locked," Corvin chuckled and pulled out a key from his breast pocket. He walked by you and unlocked the doors. "After you, my dear."

You glared at him and entered the estate without another word.

#dark fantasy #faerie #fairy #fem reader #horror #male yandere #my writing #reader insert #yandere #male yandere x female reader #yandere fairy #yandere x reader #the white crow game

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dragongirlpoet · 7 months ago

Text

Closer

Shapeshifter knight x you

OC, Role play dialogues (I wrote this in the style where only MC is speaking, and reader can self-insert and go wild with whatever replies they can imagine)

Blue = exposition | White = dialogue

You ran, hand clutching a gaping wound eating away at your torso. With lungs begging for air, the acute agony bound you down like an anchor. A growing sense of dread filled you as the grim creature, seemingly a spawn of scorpion stings and human, closed in behind you.

“STAY BACK! Wait behind the oak tree, now.”

Dusk was befalling. In the distance, deep growling noises, followed by snarls and the sluicing of fluids reverberated through the dense emerald canopy. Your heart thumped wildly in your ears, drowning out the ear-piercing shriek you so prayed was not that of your rescuer. In the thick of the foliage emerged a colossal beast of heavy fur.

Trepidation rendered you motionless, and you watched as its crimson canines retracted — claws to nails and fur to skin. The unsettling sight threatened to hurl up whatever remnants of leaves you had scavenged.

“You’re hurt. You’re…here, keep this around your wound or you’ll bleed out.”

“It’s okay, you’re safe with me. You’re afraid. I know, don’t worry, that creature is alive no longer. You…what is it?”

“Oh…you’re afraid of me. I’m not a creature of the forest I promise. It’s just I have a…gift. No, your eyes do not betray you. Indeed I was a beast, and now a man stands before you. I shall not fault you if you think me a bedlamite of the occult — I assure you I am far from it.”

“No matter, I will take my leave now. That cloth should suffice until you reach the safety of your home. I should hope it is not too far aw…”

“You…don’t have a home? Well, that is unfortunate. M’m afraid my charity doesn’t extend beyond this forest. I wish you well on your travels.”

*you collapsed*

————————————————————————

“You’re awake. That wound was far more severe than I had let myself believe. Rest assured it has been treated. An antidote from my apothecary. I had it concocted myself.”

“Where are you? Well, you said you had no home. So, this…this is my home. Yes I reside in a castle, however I am but an ordinary man.”

“Your gratitude is very welcomed, and I take honour in the fact that I could save a life so exquisite as yours. Look…I am not usually fond of people, and I scarce take pleasure in communicating beyond these castle walls…”

“Who do I speak to? Why yes, I suppose it is a fitting question considering I live alone…ghosts, spirits, magical entities that dwell in the realm of my castle, and what have you.”

“Oh, I did not mean to frighten you. You…you really have no idea where you are, do you? Yes, I presumed this much.”

“You see, our world is divided. The forest you were attacked in - it serves as a demarcation between your lands - human lands, and mine. I am a being of magic - a shapeshifter if you may, and I have two forms. Both of which I am certain you are well aware of, given the spectacle a fortnight ago.”

“Ah yes, you have been asleep for two weeks now, I was beginning to think you dead.”

“…I am sorry…while…killing is a natural forte of mine, tact is a skill I have yet to master. I shouldn’t have burdened you with details you were not ready to hear…”

“You need to rest. You can stay until you’ve fully recovered, and I will care for you. After which you are to go back to your human lands, and never again step foot in the forest, or here — Agyslyria.”

His unrelenting gaze bore into your hazel eyes, as if searching for acknowledgement to his resolute command. You were restless — an unlikely reaction considering you’d just awoken from a lengthened state of unconsciousness. Leaving his castle would mean going back to the rootless ruse you called life — hungry, aimless and bleak.

But you tried to level with your heart. More than anything, having your saviour — all powerful and eyes of crushing blue, come to your aid, tend to your wounds and then so readily drive you away, left an ache that oddly hurt more than your now recuperating gash.

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silverfairywings · 4 months ago

Text

— IN THE WAKE OF FLAMES. PT I

eris vanserra x archeron!reader

summary: even before you became fae, your favourite season was autumn. it’s a little hard to hide this when your least favourite newly appointed high lord has made it his life’s mission to be the most annoying male in your life.

a/n: not sure what this is but let me know if u want more lol

You’d think that hiding behind the Spymaster of the Night Court, a literal Shadowsinger, would allow you to blend in well enough to go unnoticed.

The auburn silk of your dress is a near perfect match to the grandeur of the Autumn Court ballroom you’re unfortunate enough to have to be in, and you tell yourself that the attempt at camouflage is the reason you were so drawn to the colour.

When Rhysand approached you and the rest of the Inner Circle with the invitation of a ball thrown by Eris to celebrate his newly inherited title of High Lord, your sister Nesta had dragged you out to shop for new dresses. You were adamant to wear an old gown until the dress caught your eye, the gold beads glinting in the light, almost mimicking a gently burning fire. The deep orange hue of the silk slip was muted ever so slightly by the sheer overlay, cinching at the waist before cascading to the ground and the wisps of fabric around your legs gave the illusion of sparks every time you moved.

Nesta had made a comment about the dress being perfect for Autumn Court and you had to physically restrain yourself from grimacing. You just liked the colour. It didn’t mean a thing.

Nesta and Feyre looked like perfect representatives of the Night Court and even Elain was donning soft shades of purple and blue tonight, a perfect embodiment of twilight. You loved your sisters, but you felt like you never quite fit in to the Night Court the way they had grown to. And you certainly felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb tonight.

Eris was definitely going to comment on the dress and you curse yourself internally, not having thought it through. He was jarring at the best of times, let alone a night that was solely dedicated to him. And you were dressed in the colours of his court.

You were extremely glad when Eris�� mother was the one to greet you all when you first entered the Autumn Court and not him. It allowed you to fully appreciate the beauty of his lands with unrestrained awe. Your sisters knew that Autumn had always been your favourite season, so the way you were so happy catching each falling leaf out of the sky was even more amusing to them considering they also knew how little patience you had for Eris.

That’s why you find yourself hiding behind Azriel’s wings tonight. As soon as you spot Eris making his way to greet Rhysand and Feyre, you sneak behind the Shadowsinger in an attempt to make yourself invisible.

“Seriously?” mutters the Illyrian, but he stays still for you all the same.

“Keep quiet,” you hiss, prodding him in the back. “You know very well how much he targets me. Gods, I thought he hated Cassian, but I seriously give him a run for his money.”

Mor, overhearing you, snorts into her cup. She creeps up next to you, lowering her voice to match yours. “You are so oblivious. He doesn’t hate you. He wants-”

“Might I interrupt the riveting conversation that I’m sure is going on behind the Shadowsinger’s wings?” you hear a voice drawl from in front. Your blood runs hot at being caught and you nearly burst into flames when Azriel starts to lower his wings, revealing you and Mor. She rolls her eyes at Eris’ attitude and walks away to talk to the pretty faerie in the green dress.

The years have softened the strained relationship between the Circle and Eris and none of them view him as a threat any longer. That doesn’t mean they find him any less irritating though.

Eris smiles at you when you cross your arms and clench your jaw, already feeling impatience with him bubbling up inside of you. He glances down at your dress and his lips quirk up a little higher. “Looking stunning as ever, Y/N.”

The others have already dispersed, and even Rhysand and Feyre have started to garner the attention of other important people they need to talk to. As they start to leave however, Rhysand speaks to in your head. Let me know if he’s bothering you too much. Just… try not to throw a plate at his face this time, please.

You glare at the back of Rhysand’s head. That was one time.

He doesn’t respond but you see his shoulders shaking with laughter for a millisecond before Feyre nudges him to behave in front of an Autumn Court official.

“Talking about me?” Eris asks, amused. You open your mouth to snap back at him, but notice the growing number of guests that are around the two of you now that the others have moved away. You bite your tongue for once. He is the High Lord now after all.

You plaster on a sweet smile. “Only good things… High Lord.”

Eris raises his brows at that, but chooses not to comment. He holds out his hand instead. “Dance with me.”

You’re about to laugh in his face and tell him absolutely not, but his request has caught the attention of a couple guests and they nosily look over in what you’re sure they think is a subtle way. “I’m a little tired. Sorry,” you say through gritted teeth, still smiling.

“Surely you’re not going to deny me such a small request on tonight of all nights?” he says softly, part mocking and part pleading.

You know for a fact he won’t force you to dance, but if you deny him in front of the other guests, it’ll undermine him and while you dislike him, you’re not that cruel. Plus, Feyre would probably have your head if you were to insult a High Lord in public. In private, she only ever laughs when you disparage him, but appearances are everything.

“Of course not,” you deadpan, reaching for his outstretched hand and trying not to react to the way the warmth radiating through his palm is warming your previously cold fingers.

He leads you into the crowd of dancing guests, placing his free hand on your waist as you rest yours on his shoulder, keeping a respectable distance. He rolls his eyes and tugs you forward so your chest is nearly flush against his own. When you glare at him, he merely smirks. “It’s a little hard for two people to dance when one of them is halfway across the room from the other.”

You hear a giggle from one of the guests near you and nearly whip around to glare at them. Eris catches the expression on his face and it’s as though he can read your mind with the way he’s holding back a grin. “My apologies,” you mumble, before lowering your voice to a whisper that only he can hear. “Smartass.”

“I do so enjoy your pet names for me,” Eris teases, utterly unbothered. Every time you interact with him, you swear to yourself you’ll keep a cool head. And every time, you fail. “I like your dress.”

You narrow your eyes at the compliment, but since he hasn’t actually said anything insulting or with a double meaning like he usually does, you don’t have anything to be annoyed about and begrudgingly accept the nice words. “Thank you.”

“You look ravishing in the colours of my court.”

You step on his foot.

He hisses in pain, but the grin doesn’t leave his face when he sees that he’s succeeded in irritating you.

“I didn’t choose the colours on purpose,” you say, defensively. “I just happened to like the dress.”

“You know, you often happen to like Autumn colours,” he muses, expression turning thoughtful and not in a sarcastic way this time. “Or any colour that isn’t of the Night Court’s fashion. Tell me, do your sisters know how you long to find someplace you actually belong?”

Your stomach drops and you feel like you’ve been doused in freezing cold water.

“I wasn’t aware you were a Daemati, High Lord,” you say, scowling. Eris furrows his brows at the title and spins you out before bringing you back in, this time a little closer than before. “You’re wrong.”

“Stop calling me that,” he mutters, a hint of impertinence in his voice. It takes you by surprise since you assumed he’d be revelling in all the glory, the power of High Lord coursing through his veins. Instead, he sounds like a boy being denied his favourite sweets. “Call me Eris again.”

“No.” You frown at him, pulling back slightly to meet his stubborn gaze. “We’re not friends. You’re the High Lord of Autumn now and I’ll be addressing you as such.”

“What, I’m High Lord now, so you have to respect me all of a sudden?” he asks, tilting his head.

“Yes,” you sigh, already anticipating this conversation taking a turn you don’t want it to.

“You have to be pleasant with me?”

“Yes.”

“Listen to my commands?”

“Yes.”

His smile turns wolfish. “Then I command you to call me Eris.”

“I can think of a few other things to call you, if not High Lord,” you mutter, careful not to allow any eavesdroppers to hear.

“And while I’d love to hear them, I doubt they’d be suitable for the delicate ears of court officials.”

While he’s exactly right, the way his eyes twinkle with mischief tells you that he’s insinuating a completely different type of unsuitable and your cheeks burn.

“Don’t you ever tire of being so wearisome?” you say, drily. His eyes soften ever so slightly as they scan over your face.

“Don’t you ever tire of pretending?” he asks quietly, meeting your eyes determinedly. You don’t bother asking him to clarify.

“Why can’t you just mind your own business?” You try to snap at him, but the way his words hit you deep have all the bite leaving your voice and instead you sound imploring.

Eris doesn’t answer your question and just keeps going as the two of you dance. “My mother wants me to tell you that you’re welcome to visit any time, by the way.”

“I’ll let Rhysand know.”

“She didn’t say Rhysand, she said you.”

”What?” You look up at him, shocked. That was probably the last thing you expected him to say, “Why in the world would your mother want me to visit? She saw me hurl that plate at your head last month.”

“Yes, and she told me I probably said something to deserve it,” he grumbles, but without any real malice when talking about his mother. It’s clear as day that he has nothing but love for the sweet woman.

“She’s a smart one, your mother,” you say, grinning at the thought of Eris being reprimanded. You catch him watching you without speaking and immediately frown, not wanting him to think you’re actually smiling at him. Which you definitely aren't. “I still don’t understand why she wants me to visit.”

Eris shrugs, although his eyes stray from yours, and he’s seemingly bored with the conversation as he looks down to the floor as your feet move gracefully across it. “She likes your attitude.”

“My bad attitude?” you ask, wrinkling your nose in genuine confusion.

“Passionate,” he corrects you, meeting your eyes again, and you find no traces of humour in them. “And ‘fiery’ as she called it. Don’t feel bad for not being able to always control your emotions in front of others like the rest of them. You’re allowed to feel.”

Any response you might have had is lost to nothing and the silence stretches as your heart feels like it’s slamming against your chest. It’s a mix of fear and something else with the way he’s looking at you and you suddenly need to be anywhere else.

Clearing your throat, you step back in the middle of dancing and lower your hand from his shoulder to smooth down your dress. Your other hand is still ensnared in his and it lingers there while he speaks.

“If you do accept my mother’s invitation, you don’t have to see me if you don’t want to,” Eris adds and you try and listen out for any veiled mocking.

“Why do you even care?”

At this, his lips quirk up almost involuntarily. Slowly, his fingers start to loosen up around your hand and he begins to let go, faintly trailing his hand down your own as he does so. Instead of stepping away, he walks closer, stepping to the side slightly to lean down so his lips brush against your ear in a way that makes your breathing erratic.

“My mother was telling me that she saw you practically light up like a forest fire surrounded by the trees. She feels as though you should be able to stay longer next time,” he says in a normal voice before lowering it to a whisper. “She also overheard one of your sisters call Autumn your favourite season.”

Before you can protest and, let’s face it, lie to him, Eris calmly walks away and you know for a fact that the smug bastard is smirking at the way he’s succeeded in getting under your skin.

There’s no way you’re accepting his mother’s invitation, as sweet a woman as she is. You think about all the possible ramifications and decide to push the thought in its entirety out of your mind.

Nothing good ever comes from agreeing to dance with Eris. It’s extremely similar to playing with fire, you think.

#eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #eris x you #Eris vanserra fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris fanfic #Eris vanserra imagines #eris x oc

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monstersholygrail · 7 months ago

Text

Monster Fics

Fics:

Dinner is served (Minotaur × fem!reader)

Just being neighborly (Orc x yandere fem!reader)

Little hatchlings (Dragon x fem!reader)

Tying you up (Yandere Centaur x fem!reader)

Heads or tails? (Dragon x fem!reader)

In the darkness (Shadow Demon x fem!reader)

The venom’s test (Naga bf x fem!reader)

Bite me baby (Werewolf bf x Vampire fem!reader)

A surprise visit (Tentacle Monster x fem!reader)

The mist switch (Male Fairy x Elf fem!reader)

Stuck on the edge (Gorgon bf x fem!reader)

Proper appreciation (Dragon husband x fem!reader)

Requests:

Firefighter centaur (Centaur x gn!reader)

Perfection to me (Monster bf x fem!reader)

Trusting the siren (Siren bf x gn!reader)

Shifting slime (Slime monster gf x fem!reader)

His human (Siren bf x deaf gn!reader)

Scent obsessed (Werewolf bf x fem!reader)

This fire of mine (Dragon bf x Fairy dragon fem!reader)

Gaining balance (Dragon bff x Giant fem!reader)

Wall-fucking Bastien (Gargoyle OC bf x fem!reader)

Surprise monster birthday (Monster bf x gn!reader)

Monster relaxation (Monster bf x gn!reader)

Drunk vampires (Vampire bf x fem!reader)

Monster Harem

Taking you home (Gargoyle x fem!reader)

The lawyers retainer (Faerie x gn!reader)

The witches wolves (Werewolf Pack x fem!reader)

Genie in a bottle (Ghost x fem!reader)

Summoning a himbo (Demon bf x gn!reader)

Like in the movies (Lich/Skeleton bf x gn!reader)

Ask nicely (Monster bf x gn!reader)

Ghostface Roleplay (Tentacle Monster bf x gn!reader)

Better than blood (Vampire bf x fem!reader)

New experiences (Monster x gn!reader)

Down the chimney (Krampus x fem!reader)

Monsters reacting to your excitement

Blurbs/Imagines:

Kissing your drider (drider x gn!human)

Werewolf/Vampire bf period eating out (Werewolf x Vampire x fem!reader)

Monsters reacting to you getting hurt pt 1

Mixing your cum (Ghost bf x fem!reader)

Vampire cockwarming (Vampire x fem!reader)

Through the curtain (Ghost bf x fem!reader)

Full moon but you’re the one chained up (Werewolf bf x fem!reader)

Fourth of July w/ Monster bf (Monster bf x fem!reader)

Teasing the monster under your bed (Tentacle monster x fem!reader)

[Commission] First time having period sex w/ Monster bf (Monster bf x fem!reader)

Cuddles with your Werewolf (Werewolf x fem!reader)

Dominating your monsters (Vampire x Fae x fem!reader)

Down days with your bf (Monster bf x gn!reader)

Slime mixture (Snail Hybrid bf x Slime Monster fem!reader)

Just one drop (Vampire bf x fem!reader)

Monsters being nerds

Taking a walk (Werewolf bf x fem!reader)

Submissive Orc (Orc bf x fem!reader)

Seeing the sunrise (Vampire bf x fem!reader)

Indecisive Monster (Monster bf x fem!reader)

Sing for Me (Ghost bf x fem!reader)

Hold onto me (Dragon bf x fem!reader)

Meeting the Dilf Dragon (Dragon x gn!reader)

It’s not pervy it’s clingy (Tentacle Monster bf x fem!reader)

One or the Other (Werewolf bf x fem!reader)

Ride with the Orc Professor:

First stop

Alien bf x fem!reader:

Unauthorized Websites

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steveslevis · 9 months ago

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i love you, it’s ruining my life

azriel x cassian's sister!reader - part 2 of 3

summary: Rhysand sends you on the mission to Windhaven alone, and things do not go as planned.

warnings: mentions of violence/blood, poison, mentions of previous assault and past trauma, Azriel being oblivious and upset again

word count: 5.5k

Windhaven, the place you once called home.

Now the place you avoided at all costs, the place where you lived through your worst nightmares and recollected them every single night while trying to sleep in the hell hole of a cabin you were going to be staying in for the night.

You tried your hardest to forget about the night that would haunt you for the rest of eternity, tried to will it from your memory, tried to put up an obsidian wall around it to lock it in.

But there was no forgetting what happened to you, not now, not ever. There was no trusting a male fully ever again, all thanks to the Illyrian customs.

Cillian was the first and last male you ever trusted. He gained your trust, made you fall in love with him, then ripped you to shreds, mentally and physically. The only male you ever trusted was the same one who lured you into that wretched cabin alone and held you down with a knife.

I love you, he had whispered in your ear all those years ago while pinning you to the floor, your wings spread as the knife pressed against one of the central tendons, I just have to do this so everyone knows you’re mine. So you can be a normal Illyrian female.

He was mere centimeters from clipping your wings when Rhysand heard your silent cries, busting into the cabin, making the wicked male scramble away in fear of what might happen to him.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep at all during your stay in the camp, but it was probably better that way. That way you could stay on guard all night, that way you could watch your own back. You had to prove to Rhysand and the rest of the Inner Circle that you could be treated like a grown female, that you were willing to do anything for the Night court.

There wasn’t much time when you arrived at the cabin, you had to set your bag inside and leave almost immediately, heading towards Lord Devlon’s hall for dinner.

As much as Devlon hated your brother, he had nothing but respect for you. That might be partially due to the threats you’d set into his mind a few hundred years ago, or the fact that you’d beat him during training multiple times, but the reason didn’t matter. It was more beneficial for you to be the one to show your face in Windhaven this time around and you knew that, regardless of how much it made your stomach turn. It was important that someone from the Inner Circle came to Windhaven every once in a while under the guise of making sure the camp was still in order, so this was the perfect opportunity to gain important insight as well.

So you sat at the long table for dinner, chatting with those around you in the most civil tone that you could. You couldn’t bear to eat in all honesty, just the thought of having to stay in the cursed cabin for even eight hours for sleep was enough to make you lose all appetite. So, you opted for pushing around some potatoes and meat on your plate all while chugging down four glasses of faerie wine throughout the two hours you were there.

You coincidentally sat to the right of Cormac during the meal, who had Balvard sitting on the left of him, making it almost too easy for you to infiltrate their minds and figure out their foolish plan. The two of them were under the impression that they would be able to take out Devlon with a faebane dagger and control the camps with ease. It made you scoff to yourself when you discovered that neither of them had a backup plan, as if that was going to work out so smoothly for them.

The remainder of dinner after finding out the information you needed consisted of you bantering with some of the Illyrians you had grown up next to, ones who had turned into great warriors through training at Windhaven. The sun had been set for hours by the time you made your way back to the cabin, setting up some wards as you stepped over the threshold.

Exhaustion hit you almost immediately upon changing into your sleep clothes, eyelids heavy as you relaxed onto your side in the large bed next to the fire you’d just lit. You’d assumed you would be wired at this point, you’d planned on not sleeping at all due to the fear instilled deep in your bones.

You cuddled into the blankets, the familiar scent of your old home giving you an eerily comforted feeling passing through your gut. Solace filled you once you threw up a final shield around the small cabin, setting you at ease to know nobody could come in unless you let them in.

Before you knew it, you were fast asleep on the bed.

You awoke a few hours later, disturbed by the noise of the front door swinging open. Your body felt paralyzed in the moment, lethargy taking you over as you slowly turned your head towards the noise. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion as you watched the two males stalk through the door, unable to react in any way as your eyes trailed up to see Cormac and Balvard stepping over the threshold. The smirks on their faces told you everything you needed to know about what was about to happen.

You wracked your brain for how this could’ve happened, how you were immobilized by these two lowly, evil men in front of you, how you fell into their trap so easily, and how the hell you were completely unable to use any power or energy in this moment.

Faebane.

How could you be so foolish? You should’ve known better than to drink the wine so freely at a table of men you barely knew, especially after infiltrating Cormac and Balvard’s minds and discovering they wanted to use the same fucking poison on Devlon.

“Stupid female.” Balvard spat at you as Cormac inched closer to you, hand reaching out for your ankle. “You really thought you could come here, infiltrate our fucking minds to find out our plans, and just get away with it?”

You couldn’t speak, it was like someone was pressing down on your throat as you tried to breathe, there had been some gloriella in your wine, too, you were sure of it. Your body was pulled from the bed and flipped over in one swift tug, you were thrown onto the floor in an instant.

Images of Cillian flashed through your mind as your helpless form was pushed onto the floor, images of his wicked grin that matched the ones both of the males in front of you were wearing currently.

A silent tear slid down your cheek as Balvard spoke, but you couldn’t hear his words. He was still rambling on about how stupid of a female you were, and how you deserved nothing but pain after what you were planning to do to them, but you tried your hardest to drown them out.

There was nothing you could do at this point, as Balvard held your legs down, as Cormac pinned your wings with one large hand while the other pulled a sizable knife from its sheath. There was nothing you could do but close your eyes and hope that it would be over soon.

You had never felt this helpless before, not even when Cillian had pinned you down. At least then you were able to fight back, at least then you had a shred of dignity and pride left, at least then you hadn’t been so foolish as to let someone fucking poison you.

You cursed yourself internally as you squeezed your eyes shut, pain rippling through your body at the first slash of the knife against your wing. The first cut was against the base of your right wing, a long slash that would take months to heal, if it ever did.

A prayer to the Gods repeated itself in your mind as you felt the blood trickle from your wing and onto your back. Your heart ached as the silent tears flowed, wandering to the furthest corners of your mind as you tried to think of anything aside from the pain that was being inflicted upon you. It took everything in you to realize that you had a sliver of power still running through your veins, just enough to call out to your daemati brother, Rhys.

As you shot a quick thought down the bridge of Rhysand’s mind, you were met with a welcoming talon of power. You could feel his concern as you pushed one-worded thoughts to him to get his attention.

Everything alright, sister? He questioned through your mind, urging you to let him see what you’d experienced in the last twelve hours with a kind caress of his power in your mind.

You only had enough power to cry out silently to him, Send help, please. Your mind was closed to him as quickly as it had opened, everything went dark on your end as your energy ran out and you were blinded with even more pain, throwing you quickly into unconsciousness.

The next thing you remembered was waking up to the sound of wailing and begging from behind you, the two men who had you pinned down minutes before were thrown against the wall as their High Lord took pleasure in tearing them to shreds in a slow and painful death. The cries came to a sudden halt moments later, Rhys growing tired of their begging as he decided to shatter their minds and put you out of your misery as quickly as possible.

“R–Rhys–” you sob once their cries stopped, unable to do anything aside from lift a weak finger to point towards the man in the doorframe.

The High Lord’s gaze turns from one of pure rage to one of a worried friend once his violet eyes flick toward where you lay in the middle of the cabin. He takes in the sight in front of him slowly, your pained expression and tear-stained cheeks There’s blood pooled around your midsection, drenching your sleep shirt as you pant in pain on the dusty wooden floor. One of your wings looks fractured in multiple spots, while the other one is mangled from the beginnings of a mutilation.

The sight made Rhysand shudder with anger, fists tight at his sides as he slipped into your mind in order to understand the extent of the situation you found yourself in. You let him in without resistance, unable to hold any kind of mental shield up anymore.

They were going to clip your wings, take away the one thing you had to remind you of your mother, take away the one thing you held so dearly, take away your ability to fly. They were going to make you into the ideal complicit Illyrian female before wiping your memory of the entire night, which he assumed from the extremely prohibited memory tonic rolling on the floor next to you.

Rhys was glad he’d shattered the two traitors inside and out once your memories were collected, realizing how ruthless they had been with you moments before he stormed in.

“D–Don’t tell Cassian.” you plead, eyes focused on Rhys as he took another step into the cabin.

Your pleas took Rhys back to that fateful night all those years ago, the night he found you in this same room, sobbing in the middle of the room after being defiled by another Illyrian male who he nearly ripped to ribbons in the same exact spot where Cormac and Balvard laid in the corner, the male who fled from Windhaven the next morning, likely from threats from Rhysand himself.

Four hundred and fifty years ago was when he vowed to protect you like his own sister. You had begged him that night not to tell Cassian about what he’d seen, the vulnerable state the situation had left you in. The two of you had even made a bargain that night, that he would never be able to reveal the truth about what happened, so long as you remained loyal to him and his family, which he knew you would do regardless.

Four hundred and fifty years ago he promised to be the one to look out for you and make sure you were protected in situations you knew your brother’s unadulterated rage couldn’t handle.

And now, four hundred and fifty years after that fateful day, he’d failed you.

Rhys gave you a sympathetic look, opening his mouth to speak in response to your request, but was interrupted by your brother pushing through the doorway past him. Cassian nearly tripped over his own two feet at the sight of you, stomach churning when he saw your mangled wings slumped on the wood over your limp body.

“Don’t look, Cass.” you beg your brother as he stares at you with wide eyes, knowing the sight will spin him into a fit of rage. In your dazed state, you could see him beginning to seethe at the possibilities of what could’ve happened to you, his breaths quickening at the thought.

Before Cassian can reply, Rhys slips into his mind. She needs her brother right now, not the Lord of Bloodshed ready to avenge her. Let’s get her back to the house before you make any rash decisions, we can come back and rip whoever else deserves it to shreds once she’s safe.

Cassian chokes on a breath as Rhysand tries to reassure him that you’ll be alright. It takes everything in him to compose himself, but he does it for you, his twin, his fiery sister who he’d take an ash arrow to the heart for.

“I can’t—can’t feel—“ you choke out, squirming and groaning in pain as Cassian picks you up from the floor. “My w—wings. I can’t feel them. Did they—they take them away?”

Your pained words strike Cassian like a dagger to the heart, tears welling up as he thinks about how much pain you had to be in.

“No, I promise. They didn’t take them away. They’re–they’re still there, Y/N. It—It’ll be okay,” your brother says in a stern tone as he chokes back his own tears, eyes wide as he watches you struggle in his arms while walking through the cabin’s front door. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

It sounded almost like he was trying to convince himself that it would all be okay as he shot into the sky with you curled up in his arms.

You were in and out of consciousness the entirety of the flight back to the House of Wind, babbling nonsense as Cassian tried to keep you stable in his arms.

The entire Inner Circle was already at the house when Cassian landed, an air of worry carrying through the group as they saw the state of you, more specifically the state of your wings.

Rhysand immediately called for Madja upon seeing the extent of your injuries, and ordered Cassian to take you to your room and to keep you awake until she arrived.

Cassian was up the stairs in a flash, Feyre and Mor on his heels as he rushed to your room, with Azriel quietly following behind them. He laid you on your side, your bloodied wings spread across the bed as you curled up near the edge of the large bed. Your eyes landed on Feyre as he stepped away, a dazed smile spreading across your lips as you reached out a hand for her.

The High Lady gives you a small smile in return, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, which were filled with worry. She grabs your hand, squeezing it gently as she begins to tell you something that you really can’t comprehend over the ringing in your ears.

After a while of her speaking to you and you babbling nonsense in return, you try to sit up abruptly. Both Cassian and Feyre are on you in an instant, pushing you gently back onto your side, quickly telling you that you need to lay down and stay there.

“What is it?” Feyre asks quickly, gripping your hand as you easily give up and fall onto the bed, “Is something wrong, do you need something?”

“Az…” you whimper, fighting the urge to fall asleep right then and there, “W—Where’s Azriel?”

The shadowsinger had been outside the door keeping watch, but his shadows had been listening in on the conversation within as well. The shadows curled around his ear, whispering your name to him, telling him that you requested him, so he silently strode in when he heard. Your tired eyes lit up at the sight of him in the doorway, hand slipping from Feyre’s to weakly beckon him over to you.

Something about seeing you in this state tugged on his heart, tugged on it so much it felt like it was going to rip from his chest. He couldn’t deny your request for him to come closer, not when you looked so desperate and in so much pain, not when his absence in Windhaven was part of the reason you were in this situation in the first place.

He made a mental note to ask Rhys who did this to you as he made his way over to the chair Feyre left for him to sit in, wanting nothing more than to show them what Truth Teller could do.

Azriel’s hand fell next to you on the bed and you immediately rested your own atop his, grinning widely as what felt like delusion set into your bones. Shadows twined around your fingers while the others skittered across your wings as if to soothe them.

“They may—may not be able to save my wings, Az.” you choked out, a bitter giggle coming out as you spoke.

“I’m sure Madja will be able to heal you right up, Y/N. You’ll be better in no time.” Azriel assured you, but he wasn’t sure that was entirely true. “She’ll be here any minute.”

“I—I don’t even care. I just—just need my mate.” you say abruptly while shaking your head, voice barely above a whisper now as you stare at the male, glassy eyes meeting his sharp yet confused gaze.

“Mate?” he replies with a furrowed brow, lips drawing into a frown at your words. He was wondering if you even knew what you were saying at this point, if you were just saying whatever came to your disoriented mind.

“Mate.” you say a little louder this time and the whole room is silent as you reach out for Azriel, your shaky and blood-crusted hand coming up to stroke his cheek. “My mate.”

Your eyes fluttered close with those words, a smile on your lips as you’re overtaken by sleep in the moment. Your hand falls from Azriel’s cheek and onto his lap, and that’s when he feels it. That’s when he feels the shadows of his mind clearing, bringing that band of golden thread to the forefront. A band of golden thread that was tying his soul to yours.

Before Azriel could process the situation unfolding in front of him, Cassian was pulling him from the chair so Feyre could tend to you once more. The High Lady tried to wake you, but nothing worked. Thankfully, Rhysand and Madja rushed into the room mere minutes after you became unconscious, immediately going to work on getting you back to consciousness and ready to be healed.

Cassian tugged at Azriel’s shoulders as the whirlwind began, trying to drag him into the hallway. The shadowsinger resisted, standing behind Feyre as he watched you closely. You awoke immediately when Madja began to tend to your bloodied wings, the sensitive membrane torn to shreds. A cry escaped your lips as she gently worked on them, as Feyre tried her best to keep you in one spot while Madja worked her magic.

Azriel watched with wide eyes, rage rippling through his body as he watched you writhe in pain. He wanted nothing more than to take away your pain, to make sure nobody ever hurt you again, to keep you safe with him forever.

Your brother continued to try to move Azriel from the room, knowing it wouldn’t end well if he continued to watch you writhe in pain as Madja made quick work of healing you. He continued to resist, shoving Cassian multiple times before Rhysand breached his mind, stopping him in his tracks.

I’ll make sure she’s okay. He spoke to Azriel in his mind, staring him down as he squeezed your hand, beginning to take away your pain. She’s safe with me and I’ll take away whatever pain I can, but we need you to leave before you do anything stupid. The bond is too new and who knows what you’ll do if you continue to see her like this.

Azriel straightened against Cassian’s grip, nodding at Rhys as he silently assured him that you would be okay. Eventually, he let your brother guide him into the hallway, noting the glamour Rhysand had added to the bedroom to drown out your cries as Cassian closed the door.

It isn’t until he steps into the hallway that he’s finally able to fully comprehend what just happened. That’s when guilt and fear and pain wash over his body, stinging his chest all at once, right down the bond.

“This–It’s my fault.” he says, falling back against the wall opposite to your bedroom in the hall, his legs unable to hold him up anymore. “I–I could’ve fucking stopped this, I should’ve been there, I should’ve known that this would happen–”

“Woah, Az.” Cassian interjects, reaching for Azriel’s shoulders once again. “You and I both know how stubborn she is. She would’ve refused to go if you were going, and you know it. She thought she had to prove herself to Rhys, just like she always does.”

“I should’ve just–Fuck!” Azriel yelled, shoving his hands into his hair to tug on it roughly out of frustration, “I should’ve fucking sent my shadows, I could’ve seen their plan, I–”

“Azriel.” Cassian interrupted once again, grabbing the shadowsinger to get his attention. “Would you shut up for one second? She would’ve torn those shadows–and you–to shreds if you did that. She’s still under the impression that you fucking hate her, Az.”

Azriel let out a shuddering breath at the thought, a whirlwind of emotions taking over. His mind was racing as he thought of you in the next room, how his shadows couldn’t even infiltrate Rhysand’s glamour to see if you were alright. None of it made sense, you deserved more than him, you should be with someone who actually could keep you safe.

“How long have you known?” Azriel pressed, stern gaze on Cassian as he finally let go of his shoulders.

“Az–”

“How. Fucking. Long.” he insisted, blue siphons flaring with power at his wrists as he reached for your brother.

Cassian sighs, shoulders sagging in defeat as he looks to the helpless man in front of him. “Two–Two years.” he’s quiet as he speaks, voice wavering in fear of what anger the fresh mating bond could bring out of his brother.

“You’ve known for two fucking years?” Azriel seethes, gripping Cassian’s leathers tighter as he growls, “how fucking dare you–”

“I couldn’t tell you and you know it, Az.” Cassian says, releasing himself from Azriel’s grip.

“You’re my brother–”

“And she’s my twin, my real fucking blood sister. I couldn’t betray her like that.” he interjected, shaking his head at the shadowsinger. “She would’ve torn me to shreds, then came for you next. You should know that nobody should interfere with a mating bond, you had to find out from her.”

Azriel took a deep and shaky breath at his words, knowing that Cassian was right in every sense of the word to not tell him for all this time. Eventually he nods at Cassian, deciding that words probably aren’t his strong suit at this moment, he didn’t want to say or do anything he’d regret later.

“C’mon, we should go somewhere else to get your mind–”

“No.” Azriel snarled, shaking his head firmly as his shadows swirled at his shoulders, siphons flaring with that ultramarine power once again. “I need to stay here, to see that she’s safe.”

There was something damn near animalistic in Azriel’s eyes as Cassian gazed at him. In that moment, he knew there would be no getting through to the shadowsinger, not when his mate was on the brink of death on the other side of the door.

Cassian nodded slowly at him, watching carefully as Azriel finally let go of his shoulders. The shadowsinger’s own shoulders sagged and he leaned to rest on the wall behind him, while trying to calm himself. He needed to be in that room, needed to see you, needed to hold you, but he knew there was no use in trying. Not even his shadows could slip under the door to check on you, Rhysand had glamoured the whole room to high hell in order to keep him out and to keep your healing as uninterrupted as possible.

He knew it would take hours, maybe even days before that door opened again, but he didn’t care. He’d stay right there waiting for that lock to click and that glamour to fall just so he could see you again.

And so wait he did.

He waited one hour, which turned into two, which turned into four, which turned into eight.

The wait was so long that Cassian eventually pulled two chairs out of his bedroom so they could sit, and the House nearly forced them to eat some stew that was placed upon the empty chair Azriel refused to occupy.

He only paced, mind racing with thoughts of you, of how he couldn’t feel you any time he tried to tug on the bond. He wasn’t sure how the mating bond worked, how much a glamour could mask it or how your unconsciousness would affect it. Every time he tugged on that golden strand in his chest, he felt nothing on the other end, just resistance that he could only assume was from the inability to fully reach you.

Each unsuccessful tug only drove him closer to insanity, closer to clawing down the door between the two of you to see if Rhysand was truly the reason he wasn’t able to reach you or not.

Just as Azriel was on the verge of another outrage, after waiting for nearly ten godsdamned hours, your bedroom door’s lock clicked. Both Cassian and Azriel’s attention whirled to the door, only to see Feyre standing at the door frame. The door was barely cracked, just enough to see her face, hiding the commotion behind her, hiding the sight of you behind her.

The moment the door opened, a wave of nausea flowed through Azriel’s stomach, the smell of you, the smell of your blood reaching his nose immediately.

The High Lady held out a hand as Azriel took a step towards the door, ready to push her over to finally see his mate.

“She’s waking up now,” Feyre interjects, giving the shadowsinger a stern look that tells him to behave, “she might be really confused right now, she’s been in and out of consciousness for a while so who knows what she really remembers. Be gentle with her, she may not remember what she said before you left.”

Azriel stands up straighter at the High Lady’s words, nodding sternly at her command as Cassian stands at his side finally. Both take a moment to compose themselves while she pulls the door open, revealing the room behind her at last.

The room is in much less of a disarray than they’d expected, likely thanks to a simple snap of Rhysand’s fingers. The only blood to be seen in the room is on your wings, which is currently being wiped away by Madja as you stir slowly.

It takes everything in Azriel not to run up to your side right then, to push Mor from the chair next to you, to take your head into his hands and kiss you and never let you go. But he holds back, waiting for you to finally wake from your sleep.

Your eyes flutter open a few moments later, a wave of confusion washing over you as you do. The last thing you really remember is being picked up by Cassian, off the floor of that Gods forsaken cabin. You really don’t remember how or when you made it back to the House of Wind, or what actually happened to you. At this point, judging by the shooting pain in your back, you weren’t sure if you wanted to remember what happened to you.

Your brother’s name was the first thing to fall from your lips, your weak hand reaching out for him with a watery smile. Tears filled your eyes as he took a step toward you.

“You’re a stubborn little shit, you know that?” Cassian said with a bittersweet smile, eyes flickering between your bruised face and your tattered wings.

“Gotta keep you on your toes all the time,” you rasp out, a small laugh from you finally filling the tense air.

Cassian sat next to you, talking to you lowly as he tried to keep things light, tried to keep your spirits up after he caught a glance of how mangled your wings were, how ruined they might be.

You barely noticed the shadowsinger standing behind him until a shadow skittered across your stomach, trailing to your bandaged wings to survey the damage. It wasn’t until then that you stopped to look at him, to see how stoic he looked while staring at you. His face paled, his jaw clenched as he stood silently at the foot of the bed.

“Are you here to mock me, shadowsinger?” your voice interrupted his thoughts, finally making him look up to meet your eyes.

Azriel’s brow furrowed at your words and Cassian tensed at your side. He only shook his head, an apologetic look crossing his face as he opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by you.

“If you’re here to tell me how I should’ve just sucked it up and gone with you, how I’m only a weak female and I can’t handle missions like this, I don’t want to hear it.”

Oh. Oh, no.

Realization struck Azriel in an instant, you didn’t remember anything about what you’d said to him. He tried to tug on the bond, a sympathetic look in his eyes as his heart lurched for you, but felt nothing.

The pain tonics, they mess with the bond. She cannot feel you, brother, Rhysand said to him wordlessly, watching quietly from the other side of the room, she does not know that you’re reaching out to her, she doesn’t know that you know.

Azriel felt like he was going to vomit, he couldn’t handle it anymore. He couldn’t go another minute without you knowing that he knew. But he knew better, he knew better than to throw this on you while healing from something so severe. So he looked at you once more with a calm and stoic expression, into your fiery eyes, knowing you were putting on a show of hatred just for him.

“I wasn’t going to mock you, Y/N.” Azriel said matter-of-factly, shaking his head at the thought, “I was only going to tell you that I hope you feel better soon, and that I am sorry, for everything.”

Your stern gaze wavers for a moment, confusion crossing your once stern face at his last words. Before you could retort, he was rushing out the door, leaving one shadow behind to keep watch over you.

He thought you needed space, that you needed this time away from him to heal fully before he threw his heart at you, before he confessed how in love he’d been with you for so damn long.

So he left. Left the House of Wind immediately, deciding that you were better off without him for now.

But he missed the tear that slipped from your eye once he fled the room. He missed the way you were tugging against the bond as well, the golden strand too clouded by the tonics and poisons running through your veins to reach either side.

He missed the way you let out a small sob at his absence, fully recoiling into yourself as you thought that the only male you wanted couldn’t stand to be with you for more than two seconds.

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#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel angst #azriel x you

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serpentandlily · 10 months ago

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Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader

Lost in a Labyrinth I - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine.

Warnings: smut (minors dni), reader is a prostitute

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part I

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure house and pay for it, but stay away from her.”

Rhysand’s words had played over and over again in his head since the Winter Solstice, three months ago. Azriel wasn't sure why he was taking him up on his shitty advice now but by some will of his own, he was standing in the shadows of the alley across the street from The Labyrinth—Hewn City’s most exclusive brothel.

Azriel only knew of this place because some of the high ranking nobles he spied on talked about it often. It was known for its secrecy, for making sure their clientele had confidentiality. There were far more pleasure houses that were known to the public, even one in Velaris, but the last thing Azriel wanted was word getting around that he had been seen visiting one. Partly because he liked keeping his love affairs secret, but mostly because he didn’t want to give that satisfaction to Rhysand.

When his shadows came back with no reports of any sightings of faeries nearby, Azriel crossed the distance to The Labyrinth. He knocked five times on the plain looking, unassuming door, following the instructions he had overheard.

A sliding peephole opened revealing a pair of dark eyes. “A bargain, Shadowsinger,” a male voice said through the door. “A copper for your eyes.”

“A silver for your tongue,” Azriel agreed. He felt a burning sensation behind his ear, the bargain tattoo forming.

This was another thing he had learned from spying— the secret bargain that would grant you access to The Labyrinth. A bargain that he wouldn’t speak of the people and things he might see here so long as they kept their silence in regards to his identity.

The door swung open a second later and the male guard ushered him in. The guard gave him a once over, his eyes stopping on the dagger sheathed on his thigh.

“No weapons allowed, Shadowsinger,” the guard ordered. “Especially around the girls.”

Azriel wordlessly unsheathed Truth-teller and let his shadows take it away. He didn’t tell the guard that it was pointless, that he could summon it back at any time regardless of whatever wards they had set up around here—his shadows didn’t abide by the typical rules of magic. But the guard didn’t need to know that.

The guard held out a gloved hand. “The entrance fee.”

Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch filled with coins. He set it in the guard’s palm without question.

The guard gave him a dip of the head, satisfied, before gesturing for him to continue on. Azriel strided down the dim hallway. He could already smell various aphrodisiacs and drugs amongst the intoxicating scent of arousal in the air. It spurred him on, kept his feet moving on the dark red carpet, not allowing him the chance to second guess his decision to come here.

He wasn’t sure what magic was at play, or if they specifically scented the hallway to further get their clients in the mood, but something was tugging him forward.

He finally made it to the other end of the hallway, where a black door was awaiting him. He opened it slowly, cautiously and when no threat appeared, stepped through the threshold. The door opened up into a large foyer of sorts with a large candle chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

Straight ahead was a grand staircase that led to the second floor. On both sides of the foyer were large double doors with masked guards standing in front of them, swords strapped to their backs.

Waiting for him in the center of the room was an older, High Fae female with generous curves, dressed decadently. A polite smile graced her pretty but aging face as she took him in.

“Shadowsinger,” she greeted with a dip of the head, her hands clasped in front of her. “Welcome to The Labyrinth. My name is Lydia. I will be your point of contact during your time here. Please follow me, I will show you to the girls so you may make your selection.”

This wasn’t the first time Azriel had visited a pleasure house. Gods, when they were younger, him, Rhysand and Cassian had gone to some together. Had even taken the same girl once. But this felt…different. The atmosphere was soft, sensual—not rowdy like the other brothels he had been to.

He followed Lydia into the first set of double doors, which led down another long corridor with more doors lining the wall, all numbered. Until they reached the end where another set of double doors waited. As soon as Lydia pushed them open and gestured for him to continue, soft music crept through the air.

Azriel walked into a heavily perfumed room, dimly lit much like everywhere else in this place. Dark red, velvet settees and cushions lined the walls and floors. Silks hanging from the ceilings gave each space a bit of privacy. A bar was on the opposite wall, fully stocked with various alcohols. Males and females, alike, were milling about the room in various states of undress, some paired up on the couches and chairs.

At the front of the room was a wall made entirely of glass that overlooked a courtyard. Hanging plants and flowered vines decorated the space. A large fountain bubbled in the middle of it. Girls in lingerie and silk robes sat on the stone benches and cushions on the floor, lingered near the fountain, danced to the soft music in corners of the courtyard—all giggling and chattering with each other.

“These are the girls in The Labyrinth,” Lydia explained. “If you would like to see our selection of males, let me know.”

His eyes wandered over the girls, all so beautiful and unique. Every single type of fae was here—from nymphs to firelings to High Fae. But his gaze was drawn towards a lone figure in one of the second story alcoves.

His breath was sucked from his lungs the minute his eyes fell on her. She was…she was so beautiful. The most beautiful female he had ever seen in his five hundred years of living. She was dressed in a light pink lingerie set, a sheer robe hanging over it with white fur trims. She was alone, resting an elbow on the stone railing with her chin plopped in her hand as she gazed out into the carved mountainside within Hewn City.

He couldn’t rip his eyes away from her.

“Are any of them suited to your tastes, Shadowsinger?” Lydia questioned from beside him, knocking him out of whatever spell he had been put under.

“Her,” he answered, his voice a mere whisper, as he dipped his head towards the female he couldn’t help but stare at.

Lydia murmured something to one of the masked servants walking around with trays of champagne flutes. A moment later, one returned and handed the female a slip of paper. She clicked her tongue at whatever she read.

“Apologies, Shadowsinger,” she said, “But it looks like she’s already been chosen for tonight. Do any—”

“By who?” Azriel growled before he even realized, his shadows whirling around him. Lydia looked up at him with a stern look that accentuated all the fine lines on her face.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” she chided. Azriel gave her a sheepish look, not knowing what had come over him. “It looks like any of the other girls are still up for the taking if you’d like to choose another?”

But Azriel couldn’t stop staring at the girl in the pink. Couldn’t help but be mesmerized by her. None of the other girls caught his attention. He had come here looking for a quick, no strings attached, fuck but that desire, that need—it was like it had been sucked right out of him.

“I…” he trailed off, suddenly reeling back into his body. Lydia was staring up at him expectedly but he took a step away. “N-no. I’m sorry. I should…I should go.”

Not a second later, his shadows swirled around him, whisking him away.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel wasn’t sure what drew him back to The Labyrinth the next night. Or the night after. Each time he came, he asked for that girl in pink, and each time, he was told she had already been booked for the night. It would’ve been easy to accompany Mor to Rita’s and find a plethora of females that would fuck him for free. But none of them would’ve been her.

He wasn’t even sure why he was becoming so obsessed with a girl he’d never even talked to. Obsessed enough to travel to Hewn City, pay the copious entrance fee, just to leave when he was told she was still not available.

But here he was.

Again.

Standing at the doors to The Labyrinth.

It had become such a reoccurrence that Lydia would merely shake her head no at the sight of him, already knowing what he was there for. He was sure tonight would go more or less the same. But he was surprised when he caught sight of Lydia standing in the large, intricate foyer and she shook her head yes.

“Well, Shadowsinger,” she said, “I admire your persistence. It seems it is your lucky day. The girl you’ve been waiting for is available. Please, continue on up the stairs and into The Labyrinth. She will be waiting for you behind the ninth door.”

Azriel gave her a dip of the head before striding past her to the staircase. His shadows were swarming him—excited about something. He tuned them out, pushing open the black doors waiting for him at the top of the stairs.

He paused for a second, feeling like he had suddenly been transported somewhere else. Instead of one long hallway like he’d been expecting, the doors opened to a maze of large pillars, multiple pathways lit by candles placed on the floor.

He sent his shadows forward to scout the place and locate the ninth door that Lydia had mentioned. He followed their trail which led him to a red door with a number nine painted on it in a darker shade of red that looked suspiciously like blood.

He let out the breath he had been holding as he wrapped his scarred fingers around the doorknob and slowly pushed it open.

Slow, sultry music met his ears and the scent of pomegranates and cardamom flooded his senses. It was intoxicating, beckoning him forward. He softly shut the door behind him before he completely paused in his tracks as he turned to face the room.

There, standing with her back to him, was the girl who had been utterly consuming his mind since he had first laid eyes on her. She was wearing a light pink nightgown that laced down her lower back. She was bent forward slightly, lighting a candle on a coffee table set up in front of a pair of red velvet couches.

His eyes trailed over the room for a second, trying to gather his bearings. It was a large room, large enough to have a sitting area separate from the four-poster bed covered in silk and textured fabrics. Everything fit the same color scheme as the other rooms he’d been in, red and black. Lit only by candles, the soft lighting only added to the sultry atmosphere.

Some smoke lingered in the air, making everything a bit more hazy. He recognized the scent as a popular aphrodisiac often used during parties with high nobility. His shadows seemed lulled by the music, drifting around him lazily as he stood in place.

He stood frozen as she finally turned around and met his gaze. He had thought her beautiful that day he had seen her up on the balcony, but this close, well… beautiful was not strong enough of a word. She looked crafted for the Gods, a being not meant to walk alongside man. His breath was sucked right out of his lungs again, his eyes widened as his shadows reacted by lowering themselves onto the ground, leaving him bare.

“There you are,” she purred, her voice as smooth as silk and honey. “I’ve heard you’ve been waiting for me.”

Azriel swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing with the motion. He watched her eyes track it, watched how her smirk slipped into a soft smile instead. He opened his mouth to speak, to say anything, but it was like no thoughts existed in his head except for an image of her.

“A bit shy, are you?” She teased after he failed to speak, walking towards him and holding out a hand with well manicured nails. “That’s okay, my love, let me take care of you.”

She grasped his hand in her much smaller one, not even flinching when her skin met contact with his brutal scars. He let her guide him to the couch and push him to sit, entranced by her very presence. She moved to the bar cart behind him, running a delicate hand over his shoulders as she did, before pouring two glasses of whiskey.

She meandered back over to him, plopping on the couch next to him before handing him one of the glasses. She clinked her glass against his. “For the nerves, my love.”

Azriel wanted to tell her that he wasn’t nervous, but that would be a lie. He had no idea why he had been reduced to the shy teenage boy he had been in his youth but he couldn’t shake himself from the feeling. Her presence was overwhelming, intimidating. Like she somehow held his entire being in the palm of her hands.

“Thank you,” he grunted out, his voice rough. He cleared his throat before downing his glass of whiskey in one go. She followed his lead, her smoky eyes never leaving his as she swallowed her whiskey. Beneath the exaggerated desire he found in them was a more calculating look, like she was trying to figure him out.

A bit of the whiskey slipped out of the side of her mouth, dripping down her chin and neck to the crevice between her breasts. Azriel’s gaze followed it, his cock tightening in his pants as he wished to lick it off her gleaming skin.

“Oops,” she giggled, swiping it up with a finger and sucking it into her mouth. “Would you like another glass?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to be drunk for this. He wanted to savor every second of his time with her, the girl who had been plaguing his thoughts night and day.

“You seem tense, Shadowsinger,” she purred with a pout, making his eyes dip to her full, red painted lips. “I can fix that.”

She reached forward and ran a slender hand up his chest and he nearly moaned at the feeling of her touching him. His hand latched onto hers, stopping it in its tracks.

“What’s your name?” Azriel asked, finally speaking. He needed to know. Needed to taste the way it felt to say it on his tongue as much as he needed to taste her.

“Serenity,” she replied with a coy smile. “But you can call me anything you like, my love.”

His eyes searched hers. “That’s not your real name, is it?”

“Of course not, darling,” she giggled. She leaned towards him, close enough that her breath fluttered over his ear. His cock twitched in his pants, his skin heated. “I think the real question is, what would you like me to call you, Shadowsinger?”

“Azriel,” he breathed out. “Just…just Azriel.”

“Azriel,” she repeated in that voice of silk and honey.

His eyes darted down to her lips again. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t help how turned on he felt. Was it the aphrodisiacs in the room? Or perhaps the whiskey had hit just right? He didn’t care. All he knew was he needed to have her.

Azriel let go of her hand, letting her continue her travel up his chest until she grabbed the empty glass in his hand and set it down on the table in front of them. She made eye contact with him again, slowly moving to straddle him on the couch, wrapping her arms around his neck lightly. He bit back a groan as her weight fell on his hardening member.

“What is it you’re here for, Azriel?”

His brain couldn’t focus with her in his lap. Her eyes were so mesmerizing, her scent one he could get high off. His hands found her waist, the silk fabric of her nightgown so smooth against his rough skin.

“You,” he whispered, honestly. Because that was the truth. He had seen her and knew he needed to have her.

“I’m yours, Azriel,” she giggled. “Any way you want me.”

If he were a better male, perhaps now would be the time he realized this might be a mistake. But he wasn’t a better male. He couldn’t be. Not when her body was pressed against his, not when she looked so beautiful staring up at him with her large, expressive eyes, and certainly not when his body was singing for her—hungering for her like she was the only sustenance he needed.

So Azriel surged forward and kissed her.

Lightning exploded, skittering over his skin, the moment his lips touched hers. He groaned at the feeling of their softness. She let out a small sigh as she kissed him back, melting in his lap, pressing herself closer to him.

Azriel slid a hand up her exposed back until he grasped her by the back of the neck and tilted her head so he could deepen the kiss, finally taking control of the situation. His cock hardened painfully as she spread her legs further, allowing her heat to rub against him.

He kissed her like a starved male, licking along her bottom lip, compelling her to part her lips for him. She let him consume her, let him slip his tongue into her mouth and taste her fully.

So sweet.

So divine.

Azriel broke the kiss, letting her gasp for air. The scent of her arousal had his eyes rolling back in his head. Still holding her by the back of the neck, he twisted her head to the side and pressed his lips just below her ear before trailing down her jaw and to her delicate neck.

She moaned, squirming in his lap and rubbing against his hard length, only spurring him on more. His other hand started working on unlacing her nightgown. His fingers fumbled over the ribbon, until finally, it came undone and fell, pooling at her waist.

Azriel pulled back to look at her, now bare before him from the waist up. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly with her breathing, her eyes dilated and full of lust, her lips swollen. The perfect image of desire.

“So beautiful,” he growled, before leaning forward and latching his mouth around her right nipple. She gasped, arching into his mouth as her hands fisted his hair.

“Azriel,” she whimpered, pushing her hips down against his bulge. He growled again, thrusting his hips up to meet hers.

His lips made a path back up to hers, taking her breasts in his palms as he kissed her deeply. She grinded down on his cock again, pulling a whine from the back of his throat that had her smiling against his lips.

He wanted to take his time with her, wanting to draw this out as long as he could. But he knew he wouldn’t last. Not when the need to be in her was causing him to strain against his pants to the point of pain.

Azriel stood, lifting her up with him with an arm under her ass and the other wrapped around her. He let his shadows swarm them, stepping out right in front of the bed. She was breathless as he dropped her onto the soft pillows and sheets, her hair fanning around her head like a halo.

An Angel.

That’s what she was.

A godsdamn Angel.

He couldn’t keep his hands off of her, running them down her body as he pulled her nightgown all the way off, leaving her entirely bare before her. She moved to sit up, reaching for the buttons of his shirt but he lightly grasped her throat in his hand and pushed her back down.

“How do you want me, Azriel?” She hummed, seductively, wrapping her hands around his wrist.

Azriel leaned down, running his nose along the column of her throat until his mouth was beside her ear.

“First, I want you coming on my fingers,” he commanded, his voice husky with desire. “Then my tongue. And then my cock. Do you understand?”

She swallowed audibly, nodding her head.

“Words, angel,” he smirked. “Use your words.”

“Yes, Azriel, I understand,” she whimpered, the scent of her arousal peaking.

He inhaled deeply before pulling away and dropping to his knees before her. She sat up on her elbows, letting out a small cry as he hooked his arms around her thighs and yanked her towards the end of the bed.

Her sex was glistening with her want and Azriel groaned at the sight, unlacing his pants with one hand to relieve some pressure. He watched her as he dipped forward and ran his tongue up her slit, his eyes rolling back at the sweet taste of her.

She tossed her head back with a moan, spreading her legs wider for him. Azriel didn’t waste any time. He sucked and licked at her clit with a hunger he’d never felt before, his cock twitching every time he drew out a moan or cry from her lips.

True to his word, his finger swirled around her entrance, causing her hips to thrust closer and closer. He continued his ministrations as he slid a single finger inside of her, cursing as he felt how tight she was wrapped around him.

“Azriel,” she cried out as he added a second finger before slowly thrusting in and out of her. “Fuck.”

He continued to suck that spot that had her crying out, pure waves of euphoria crashing through her body. His fingers began to thrust inside of her faster and faster as her moans became more frequent.

“That’s it, angel,” he praised as she rutted against his fingers. “Fuck yourself with my fingers.”

She whimpered, her movements frenzied as he latched his mouth back on her clit, sucking in rhythm with his fingers. One of her hands gripped his hair while the other fisted the sheets and she squirmed in pleasure until he pushed her over the edge.

“Az…Azriel,” she cried, arching her back as flames licked their way through her body. “I’m gonna—”

Azriel didn’t stop, palming himself with his free hand as she orgasmed, pulsating around his fingers with a loud moan. He slipped his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue just in time to feel the aftershock ripple through her.

She tried to pull his head away, but he didn’t relent. He needed her on his tongue, needed to fulfill the hunger inside of him. It wasn’t long before he had her screaming through her second orgasm, lapping at the wetness pooling between her thighs. Azriel didn’t let up as he rode out her orgasm with his tongue, not until her body was writhing in pleasure and she was begging him to stop.

He stood, sticking one of the fingers covered in her juices into his mouth, eyes rolling back in his head as he groaned. “Gods, you taste so good.”

He left her panting on the bed as he made quick work of ripping his clothes off. His eyes were black with lust, his shadows spilling all around him in his craze. Gods, he needed her so bad. Every piece of her.

He climbed onto the bed, hovering over her and crashing his lips against hers. His tongue was still claiming her mouth as her hands roamed the muscles of his chest, sliding down to his cock. He groaned into her mouth as she ran her hand up and down his shaft.

“Please,” she begged.

“Please what, angel?” He nipped at her bottom lip. “What is it you want?”

“Please fuck me, Azriel,” she whined.

The noise that came out of his throat at her words was one he’d never made before. He sat back on his haunches, replacing her hand with his as he guided himself towards her entrance, rubbing up and down against the wetness that was waiting for him.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he slid himself inside of her slowly. She moaned as Azriel let out an animalistic growl at the feeling of her wrapped around him. It wasn’t until he was all the way in her when they both finally released a breath.

“Fuck,” he grunted, falling forward and peppering kisses along her throat. “You feel so good.”

She whimpered at his praise and felt him smirk against her neck before he started to finally move, pulling himself all the way out her before thrusting back in, faster this time. She cried out as he slammed into her.

Azriel set a punishing pace, thrusting into her again and again. His shadows seeped from him until nearly every crevice of the room was taken over by his darkness.

Her nails raked down his back, between his wings as she let him take her. He claimed her mouth again, passionately swallowing each moan he pulled from her. Her hips began to meet his with each thrust, pushing him deeper and deeper inside of her.

“Gods, Azriel,” she cried, squeezing around him as he hit that sweet spot inside her.

“Are you going to come on my cock, angel?” he cooed.

“Yes,” she mewled. “Yes, gods, yes.”

“Good girl,” he growled, nipping at her throat with his canines.

His words pushed her over the edge into the hot bliss of pleasure. She screamed his name as the lightning shot through her, her core pulsating with each strike.

“Fuck,” Azriel groaned. He rode out her orgasm and then his thrusts became harder, faster but sloppy with no rhythm as his own release slid up on him.

His tongue swirled around the base of her neck before an utterly feral growl ripped through him. And then he bit down on that spot. His canines ripped through the skin, sinking down into her flesh as he came, thrusting once, twice and one final time—burying himself in her.

They both panted in silence for a moment, coming down from their highs before Azriel slowly slipped out of her with a small whimper. He pulled away from her and she smiled up at him, her eyes glazed with pleasure and satisfaction.

And then something happened. Something he never thought would. Something he had only dreamed about but never wished for because he had thought it a waste of breath.

A golden string of light unwound itself and shot across the darkness, all the way to the beautiful girl before him.

The mating bond snapped.

His mating bond.

Azriel let out a choked noise, rising fully. He stumbled back in shock, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she sat up.

Fuck, his mate…

She was his mate.

His godsdamn mate.

This couldn’t be happening. Not like this. Not after he had just paid her to have sex with him. Not after he had come here for a shameless fuck. She’d never want him now. Why would she?

He hastily began picking up his discarded clothes and dressing himself. She did the same in her confusion, slipping her nightgown back on as she frowned at him.

“What happened?” Her voice was meek as she hugged an arm around herself, looking at him. “Have I…have I done something wrong?”

“N-no,” he stuttered, not looking her in the eyes. Gods, she would hate him if he told her now. She would not want anything to do with him. “No, I’m sorry. I-I need to go.”

“But you paid for the whole night,” she said, perplexed with a hint of insecurity. “Please, if I wasn’t good…if you didn’t enjoy it…I can do better, I swear it.”

He finally looked at her, at his mate. His heart sank in his chest at her words. Fuck, he was making this worse. He couldn’t stand the sight of her looking at him like she’d done something wrong. She was perfect. She had been perfect. It was him who fucked up.

“No, no, don’t. It’s not you," Azriel tried to reassure her. “I…it’s me. I need to go. I’m so sorry.”

“At least let me get you your money back,” she said, rubbing her arm. He felt sick to his stomach.

“No! No, please keep it,” he murmured, buttoning up his shirt as fast as he could. “I’m…I’m so sorry. This was a mistake.”

And then he disappeared in his shadows, her confused and hurt face the last thing he saw.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

a/n: so obvious this was entirely from Az's perspective but it will be reader y/n just in case it wasn't super obvious! Hope you guys enjoyed it! If you asked to be tagged but don't see your username, it wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :((

(also, now that the whole chapters out, if this isn't what you thought you were signing up for, no hard feelings if you asked to be removed from the taglist)

taglist: @itsswritten @impossibelle @lilah-asteria @heartless-tate @sheblogs @jesskidding3 @landofpetrichor @thecollegecowgirl @5onedirection5 @cherry-cin @fayeatheart @brieflyclassymortal @saltedcoffeescotch @glitterypirateduck @eyebagsanonymous @chxosangxl @daardyrnitta

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel smut #azriel spymaster

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floatyflowers · 6 months ago

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Dark Platonic Male! Maleficent x Child! Reader

"You promised you would allow me to leave if I brought you the herbs and cleaned the castle!" you remind the fae king, your tongue laced with distress at the broken promise.

"I made no such promise, my dear child" Maleficent states, smiling coldly at you.

The Faerie king found you wondering in his forest all alone, and took you as a captive.

And to gain your freedom, he made you go search for herbs and clean the castle.

"But you said-"

"I said if you do those two tasks I might think about letting you go back to your home, yet, I made no promises"

"You're a liar and a cheat!" you shout, your voice echoing off the stone walls of the castle.

"I did everything you asked of me, and for what? To be your slave forever?"

"Being my daughter wouldn't be considered slavery, my dear" Maleficent corrects you calmly.

"I'm not your daughter!" you argue.

The fae king's eyes narrow, his expression darkening while taking a step towards you, his movements slow and deliberate.

"You dare speak to me that way? I could end your life with a snap of my fingers."

His hand wrap around you neck, lifting you up from the floor.

"Life has been lonely for me, and you seem like you would make a good daughter for me, don't you agree"

The knowledge that he could take your life at any moment left you with no choice but to submit.

You nod you head which was extremely difficult due to his tight hold on your neck.

Maleficent released his grip on your neck, after placing your feet down on the floor, allowing you to gasp for air, your chest heaving with each desperate breath.

He stepped back, regarding you with a mix of satisfaction and happiness.

"Good girl," he declares, circling you like a predator stalking its prey.

"I knew you'd come around. You belong to me now, little one. And I take care of what's mine."

He reaches down and grabs your arm, hauling you to your feet. You stumble, unsteady from the lack of oxygen and the shock of his sudden brutality.

Maleficent doesn't seem to care. He drags you through the castle, past the opulent rooms and flickering candles, until you reach a heavy wooden door.

"This will be your chambers," he says, shoving you inside.

"All your necessities will be met, however you will forever stays those chambers"

"Yes, Father," you force yourself to say, the words bitter on your tongue.

"Thank you for your generosity."

Maleficent beams, delighted by your submission.

"Excellent. "

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peach-top · 28 days ago

Text

❝ 𝙑𝙄𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ! ❞

➤ ACT I. | CHAPTER VI.

➤ PAST.

There are two types: A listener and a yapper. [Y] and Shadow Milk Cookie seem to match that. The beast cookie had been yapping for hours while the wanderer listened while reading books. Who listens and reads at the same time?

Shadow Milk Cookie pouted, then pulled on the wanderer's cheeks, ❝Are you listening to me?! Hmph!❞

“Yes.” [Y] replied. The beloved trickster crossed his arms, ❝Hmph…It's no fun when you're being too honest.❞

“Would you rely on my terrible skill in lying?” [Y] asked.

❝C'mon! It can't be that bad!❞ Shadow Milk Cookie snorted. ❝Give me a lie!❞

The wanderer tries to think of a lie to prove that he's bad at lying. How can someone as stoic as [Y] be bad at lying? Shadow Milk Cookie has seen bad liars before, but [Y] has a great poker face and that is how he imagined the face that the former guardian makes when lying. Uh…the results weren't so great…

[Y] made the infamous or famous Tanjiro's lying face as he lied through his teeth, “I…I’m not an honest person…”

Shadow Milk looked at him, shOOked at what he saw and what he heard. Not only that [Y] has an inability to lie, but also BAD at coming up with lies! He has NEVER, EVER seen anyone this bad!

❝THAT'S THE BEST LIE YOU COME UP WITH?!❞ Shadow Milk Cookie hollered, gripping on the taller male's shoulders and shaking him violently, ❝AND WHAT'S WITH THAT FACE?! ARE YOU TANJIRO?! THAT'S CUTE, BUT IT'S SUCKS!!❞

[Y] fidgets, scratching the back of his head, “Sorry, Millennial Tree taught me to be an honest person which gives me the inability to lie…”

Shadow Milk squish [Y]’s cheeks, ❝My poor beloved…What's your name?❞

“[Y]...”

❝Hmm…I’ll call you my pookie, pookie! Still, how can he make you this bad at this?❞ Shadow Milk whined, continually squishing the male's cheeks. ❝You were a great liar keeping a poker face~ Telling such cruel lies that can break other’s mind. Like mine~ My mind was nearly broken but you somehow showed mercy…❞

“Huh? What do you…mean by that?” [Y] tilted his head. Shadow Milk hummed, ❝Are you really sure you wish to know?❞

“It'll help regain his memories, right?” The spirit thought.

❝Are you looking to know the truth? I may or may not be a liar, but…I can't lie to you, pookie. Let's go somewhere private where no one can hear you. I know just the place.❞

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

With White Lily, the female was flipping through pages of the history book about Red Spider Lily Cookie. However, some pages were ripped out of the book. Why is that? It's almost like someone angrily ripped it out or tried to hide something.

“...” White Lily Cookie frowned, feeling that using the book is useless. Tho, she spotted something poking out from between the pages.

Curious, the female flipped over to the page where it was poking out. To her surprise, it was a folded up map, but it ripped in half. What's the map for? Why is it here?

White Lily Cookie took notice of a divine figure in a photo with orange lilies surrounding them. Now that she looks at it, this mysterious figure looks almost identical to Red Spider Lily. She has so many questions…

“...What is all of this? Could this be the secret of Red Spider Lily Cookie?” White Lily Cookie thought to herself. “This is only half a map, could it be leading to treasures or an abandoned kingdom?”

“If I try to explore the secret, I might make the same mistake. But…curiosity is taking the better of me. I must find the other half of the map without Elder Faerie noticing…”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Elder Faerie Cookie rubs his temper while pacing back and forth. It was stressing him out. The last remaining flower left behind by its master, Red Spider Lily corrupted White Lily’s dream, and his plan of return. It'll be double the threats if Red Spider Lily Cookie was awakening and will release the beasts.

Worse than that, if Red Spider Lily Cookie was awakened, then the creator behind his existence will make their official appearance rather than in a dream.

The flower that was shrieking earlier became a yellow lily flower which means it was reborn. What can he do with it now? Set it free?

“I'll take that.” Elder Faerie jumped when a tendril grabbed hold of the flower pot. Before the elder faerie could react, tendrils wrapped around his figure. Oleander tilted his head, “Ah? This isn't how it is supposed to look. He must've really changed.”

“Who are you?!” Elder Faerie grunted, feeling the tendrils tightening its grasp around him. Oleander ignored him and tried to use his curse magic to reverse the spell on the flower, but failed.

“Oh? My spell isn't working…Even though he has no memories of the past, his spell still remains the same.” The lilac haired male mumbled before glancing over at the trapped elder faerie, “He’s here, am I right?”

The faerie kingdom flinches before looking away, “I prefer to remain silent.”

Oleander forcefully grabs Elder Faerie's face, forcing the faerie to look him in the eyes, “You're with the spirit of the forest, correct? Let's see…Elder Faerie Cookie is your name…?”

“...”

Oleander then looked over towards the tree in the distance. He has heard of the Beast Cookies, the first holder of the soul jams. They were sealed away by the witches and entrusted Elder Faerie Cookie to guard the tree to keep them sealed.

“I'll give you two choices: tell me where he is or…” the lavender haired male trails off and points to the tree, “...I'll release the beasts in the wild…”

Elder Faerie's eyes widened, “...! You can't—”

“Choice #1 or #2…?” Oleander glared.

The fool faerie was forced to make a choice to protect both [Y] and the Faerie Kingdom. Although, he might think it's impossible for the oleander-scented cookie to remove the seal from the tree. If he wants to escape this then he has no choice but to pick choice #—

“Not yet…” a deep voice spoke. Elder Faerie's heart nearly jumped when he pointed the horned cookie behind Oleander, who got scared by him.

“Fuck! Mayhem, give me a damn warning next time!” Oleander scolded, placing his hand over his heart. Mayhem crossed his arms, “Master ███████ only wants the flower for now. He isn't our objective yet.”

“That name again… I think I might have heard that name from somewhere, but where…? They're after [Y]... Perhaps, the master they speak of is that very same cookie who threatened Millennial Tree Cookie in his dream.” Elder Faerie furrowed his eyebrows.

“Should I crumble him? He may have the remaining power of a guardian left in him, but…he won't last longer if he were to use it again.” Oleander huffed, placing his hand on his hips. “He's a fragile cookie.”

“Your problem. Not mine.” The [h] haired male scoffed before he transported himself elsewhere. Oleander shrugs it off then whistles, commanding the tendrils to suck the inside of Elder Faerie's body.

❝ewwwww!❞

Don't think that way. Oleander has the ability to suck every meat and bone from his victim’s body, leaving them with nothing but skin. Their bodies deflated like a balloon. His tendrils are carnivores.

❝double ewwwww!❞

The tendril wrapped itself around Elder Faerie's neck, allowing the other to insert itself in his mouth to remove everything from inside his body until there's nothing.

❝ew! this came out weird and yet they can't find a way to explain it without making it sound weird!!!❞

“...” Oleander let out a sigh with disappointment when his tendrils let go of the foolish king, “Ugh. He's expired. That's not enough food for my tendrils. All of the faeries are expired. Two or three have already been deflated.”

“Your majesty!” Silverbell and Mercurial Knight shouted out to the king once they arrived at the scene. Elder Faerie choked out the saliva, holding his sore throat. Before they noticed Oleander, he disappeared with the flower.

“Your majesty. Are you alright?” Silverbell asks the choking king.

“I-I’m quite alright…Just a sore throat.” Elder Faerie strained, rubbing his sore throat. Silverbell and Mercurial Knight help him up on his feet. The king apologized, “Sorry that you had to witness this.”

“As long as you're unharmed, then that's fine by me.” Mercurial Knight said. “However, we made a…terrible discovery…”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

❝Ah. This seems like a great spot.❞ Shadow Milk Cookie smiled, plopping down on the bouncing spore. He then patted the spot next to him for [Y] to sit. So [Y] did. Shadow Milk Cookie plops on the male's lap and clears his throat, ❝I shall tell you a tale about the Light of Knowledge and the cookie who lost hope of life. This is a tragic tale about a dear friend of mine…❞

The spirit of Deceit pulled out two cardboard puppets of himself and a cookie that [Y] never seen before.

Light Milk Cookie was wandering in the hall of the Blueberry Yogurt Academy on his way to the library. He slowed down when he heard a soft shriek from the darkness of the hallway. Curious, the male follows the sound cautiously.

“Hello…?” Light Milk Cookie whispered. The soft shriek was getting closer as the male stepped closer until the light lit up in a limping [h] haired male male, injured. The inverted flower took notice of Light Milk Cookie and let out an alerted shriek, shattering the glass and nearly bursting Light Milk 's eardrums.

“Ugh…Enough…” the injured cookie demanded the flower, causing it to stop. The male glare over his shoulder, “...What do you want? Power? Wealth? What is that you foolish, greedy cookie wants from me…?”

“Ah…sorry, I heard shrieking and found you injured.” Light Milk apologized before kneeling before the male, “Are you alright?”

“Stay back…! I don't need your pity.” The injured cookie growled. “You just want to get on my good side so you can stab me in the back…”

“Eh? No. I just want to make sure you're alright?” The dual haired male declined. “A…are you new here? What happened?”

“...I'm not new to Earthbread, but I'm not sure what the hell is this place…” the injured male mumbled. “But I might be safe from that helluva place I used to call home.”

“Whatever happened to you?” Light Milk asked. “Ah. Before you can explain. Let me take you to the clinic.”

❝I met him back at the Blueberry Yogurt Academy, injured. The reason for his injuries was that his own cookies that he created betrayed him.❞ Shadowmilk explained as he showed off the pre-corrupted Red Spider Lily Cookie being attacked by his people. ❝They grew greedy for power and wealth. They want nothing more but greed. They were made to have peace and happiness, but that doesn't last long❞

❝Sad, right? How could they harm someone who wants nothing but peace and happiness? Cookies these days are nothing but disappointment.❞

❝He’s not a bad person, it's the fact that greedy cookies force him into something he's not. I won't forgive those bastards for hurting him.❞

“Ah…poor Red Spider Lily Cookie…” [Y] frowned. Shadow Milk Cookie sigh, lean back against the male’s chest, ❝Yeah. I didn't get the chance to…tell him how I feel…❞

“Oh? What feeling?” [Y] asked innocently.

Shadow Milk Cookie turns to face [Y] with a serious expression on his face. He then cup the male's face and confessed, ❝I love you even if you don't remember me…❞

“...What does that—” Before [Y] could finish questioning it, Shadow Milk Cookie pulled him in a kiss. After a few minutes of kissing, the spirit pulled away and licked his lips, ❝Your lips taste off. Cacao, maybe?❞

“Ah…”

╭ ⁞ ❏. facts

┊ ⁞ ❏. before red spider lily cookie strike fear to earthbread, he been hanging around the pre corrupted beast cookies and grew fond of them

┊ ⁞ ❏. red spider lily cookie has hatred towards the ancient heroes, but despise white lily and dark cacao more

┊ ⁞ ❏. red spider lily wish to take dark cacao’s eye and take it as his own

➤ chapter v.

➤ chapter vii.

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #cookie run x reader #crk x reader #crk x you #cookie run x you #cookie run x male reader #crk x male reader #shadow milk cookie #white lily cookie #elder faerie cookie

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randomgurl2326 · 3 months ago

Text

Next To My Wife

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: The one time Azriel let his two worlds collide…ALSO…Based off of this quote from EPIC The Musical: After everything you’ve done, how will you sleep at night/Next to my wife

Warnings: Blood, Torture

The dungeon is cold. Second only to the Winter Court. The sounds of a male’s cries and screams are music to the spymaster’s ears.

The cobalt siphons on the Illyrian warrior’s leathers shine bright down here. Like they knew what he’s doing and that he takes pleasure in it.

The male doesn’t let the guilt creep in. Not yet. Guilt is for the conscience. Conscience is for home. He can’t afford conscience at work. That’s a luxury only innocence can have…. His sweet girl, innocent—

No, he can’t think of her now. Never let the two worlds touch, is what he tells himself. Keep the innocent innocent. Keep the bloody bloody.

Never let them touch.

Azriel’s shadows envelop the faerie. The whisps talk animatedly as they watch their master work. Suggestions ring through his ears from the tiny shadows.

The whip, master, the whip.

No! No! Truth Teller, Master. Surely that will get the job done.

The shadowsinger grits his teeth and lets out a grainy, “Quiet.”

The shadows whispers lessen to a dull roar. Azriel’s shoulder’s tense as he speaks, “Tell me what you know about Beron Vanserra’s dealings with Hybern.”

The faerie hesitates for only a second before hardening his gaze and answering, “Fuck. You.”

The spymaster breaks two of the male’s fingers as a result of his defiance. Azriel tightens his grip on the faerie, “Wrong answer. Tell me before I rip out your fucking veins one by one.”

The faerie male cries out in pain. Finally submitting to the spymaster, “Alright! Alright! I’ll tell you!” The next one quieter, “I’ll tell you.”

Azriel presses down on the other male’s jugular, “I’m listening.”

“T-the High Lord wanted a deal,” the Illyrian senses the quiver in the faerie’s voice, “A-a protection deal o-or something, I don’t fuckin’ know.”

The dark whisps of shadows stir again, sensing a lull.

He’s lying, master.

He knows but doesn’t want to tell master.

If pretty girl were here she’d be able to—

Azriel squeezes his eyes shut at the mention of his girl. Don’t let the two worlds touch, he says to himself, leave the conscience at home. The spymaster’s eyes open once again, reminding him of where he is. What he’s doing.

Scarred hands press down harder on the male’s protruding neck, “Enough of the bullshit. Tell me what you know.”

The faerie winces, “S-security! Security… he wanted to trade Night Court secrets in exchange for security with Hybern. Beron wanted stability. He senses a war. I-I don’t know what secrets he was gonna share. I just know that they were heavy.”

The Illyrian’s shadows exert approval of the truth. Azriel grunts and twists the male’s arm backwards, pushing his leather boot clad foot down on his back and forcing his head down.

The shadowsinger smirks and leans down to the faerie’s ear, with a dark voice he says, “Thank you… But you’re no longer needed.”

He unsheathes Truth Teller and stabs it in the male’s shoulder blade. He waits a beat before slowly pulling it out. The agonizing cries of the faerie bounce through the otherwise quiet halls of the dungeon. His whimpers bring a twisted delight to the spymaster.

Once the dagger is fully removed, Azriel stands and gives one last stomp on the faerie’s foot for good measure.

“Someone will be here in the morning to either clean your remains or your wounds. Make sure not to bleed too much. I do like this dungeon.”

Azriel walks off and cleans Truth Teller with a rag nearby. Just as the Illyrian is about to exit, he hears the faerie’s pain-stricken voice, “After everything you’ve done, how will you sleep at night?”

Azriel stops at the exit and smirks. He doesn’t dignify the faerie with a glance as he says in his gruff baritone, “Next to my wife.”

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starsandink13 · 6 months ago

Text

The White Crow Game Chapter 6

Even though you were far away from the theater, the agonized screams still pierced through your mind. You had no idea for how long you've been walking; it seemed like the flow of time was frozen in place in this mansion. Forever stuck in a single moment no matter how much time really passed outside.

Which makes sense, since he did say that this is on the border between the fairy realm and the human realm... You thought and cracked your stiff neck. Carefully, you put a finger to where the bruise had once been and grimaced. From now on, I have to be even more careful when going through this place. Although I still don't know why he would go out of his way to heal me. Something about that isn't right.

When you were about to turn another corner, you noticed a painting of Corvin dressed in a dark red silk cloak. The hood was pulled up and he held a white rose out towards the viewer with an eerily placid smile and a sinister look in his eyes. But what interested you was that the rose looked as if it was jutting out of the canvas, almost as if you could reach towards it and pluck it out. Without thinking, you put your hand gently towards the rose and yelped as you felt petals under your fingers.

"W-what?" You gasped and touched the flower again.

The silky petals bent ever so slightly underneath your touch. Hesitantly, you pulled out the flower. To your shock, the rose was in your hands with the exact weight and texture of one. You looked back to the painting to see that where the rose once was is now a black silhouette of it.

You turned the rose once more over in your hand before putting it back into the painting. The rose sank back into the canvas and transformed into a facade of what it was.

Could this mean that he hid the key inside of a painting?

Your hand wrapped around the strap of your satchel as you looked at the portrait. Admittedly, that is pretty smart of him if it is. No one would expect you to put it in such obviously plain sight.

You cracked your neck and walked away from the artwork. Excitement raced through your veins and you walked a little bit faster. You came to the end of the hallway to see that there weren't any paintings featuring a key of any kind.

Of course, it wouldn't be that easy...

You shook your head and let out a deep sigh, running a hand through your messy (H/C) hair. You closed your eyes and leaned against a door. The door gave way to your weight and you let out a sharp squeak. Before you could fall on your face, you regained your balance. You shook your head, dusting off your pants and looked at the room you stumbled into.

It was a magnificent music room with most of its light goldish walls taken up by tall, arched windows that let in streams of moonlight. The floors were white marble with thin veins of gold that were so polished that you could see your reflection in it. At even intervals, dark blue chaises and ottomans were placed up against the walls. Next to one of the windows was an ivory harp and a cello. You walked up to a window and looked up at the moon that hung in the ink-black sky like a silver eye.

Your heart clenched and put a hand over it. Don't give up, you're close to freedom.

In the middle of the room was a well-polished grand piano. It was black and glossy like a raven's feather with ivory keys shining like pearls in the low light. The piano bench seated in front of it was made of ebony with midnight blue velvet upholstery.

Do I have to play Moonlight Sonata? You scoffed and turned away from the piano. As you were about to leave the room, a melody played behind you.

You whipped around to see Corvin seated at the piano. You were about to demand to know what he was doing but stopped when you saw his expression. His face was placid and focused; a far cry from his usually mischievous demeanor. His long and slender fingers gracefully plucked at the keys. The music was low and haunting, like the soft cries of a ghostly bride. You wanted to sit down next to him and listen for eternity. Your limbs felt heavy and you slowly walked towards him. As you were about to sit next to him, you froze up and remembered that this was a trap fairies used to lure humans.

You took a step back and put your hands over your ears and clenched your eyes shut. Your heart felt like a vice was crushing it as every bone in your body locked in place. Fear raced through you like a spider's venom as the melody continued to play, beckoning you to your doom.

Think of something else, come on! Do not listen to it!

The music seemed to become louder, tempting you to put your hands down and close your eyes for eternity. You bit your lip, a sharp pain bursted and your mouth was tinged with the metallic taste of blood.

The melody was becoming stronger; almost as if it was begging-- no, demanding-- you to put your hands down from your ears and listen. Your (S/C) hands were violently shaking.

Think of the key! Focus on the finding the key!

As the last of your fraying willpower was nearly gone, the music finally stopped. You heard a quiet laugh from Corvin and you opened your eyes slightly.

"My, am I really that bad?" He said and got up from the bench.

"No-- the opposite. I would never expect you to be good at it," you begrudgingly admitted, a sharp heat flashed on your face.

"There are quite a lot of things you don't know about me," he leaned into your ear with his hand on your shoulder, his voice husky. "Besides, when you have lived as long as I have you tend to pick up various hobbies to stave away the boredom. Maybe I'll dedicate a song to us and perform it at the wedding. What do you think of that?"

Please don't.

"Speechless, aren't you?" His voice became lower. His soft, cool breath hit your cheek, making your skin crawl. Thankfully, he slowly stepped away from you before you could shove him off of you.

"You have quite a lot of artwork, don't you?" You said. "Especially of yourself."

"It's to serve as a reminder of who's home it is," he answered as he straightened out the lapels of his jacket.

"Can I ask something?"

"Of course."

"You mentioned that you have a lot of hobbies, right?"

"Yes."

"Is one of them painting?"

"I occasionally do some, mostly of landscapes and interior environments." He admitted. "Although I'm not too bad at portraiture, would you like one of you for our first anniversary?"

"No," you bluntly stated.

"My dear has anyone told you're as beautiful as you are scathing?"

"Yes."

"And yet you are still so cruel!" He playfully gasped.

"Anyways, do fairy artists have the ability to put an item into the canvas?" You said impatiently.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean can they put an object into the frame and make it appear as if it is part of the painting. Hide it in plain view so to speak?"

His eyes widened for a moment and he fell silent before quietly answering, "Yes."

"What other things can fairies do regarding artworks?" You continued, "Not just paintings and sculptures, but also music, literature, and so on?"

"Just like in the stories you have about us, we can create music that can put people into a trance and spirit them away," he responded.

"Like what you tried to do earlier?" You folded your arms over your chest.

"I was only doing that to showcase my talent." He huffed slightly.

"And what about literature?" You asked.

"That highly depends on each individual fairy's preference. Truth be told, I'm surprised none of you have spread stories about that-- pun not intended." He said. "But anyways, some like to place nasty traps in which if some unfortunate person opened a book, they're trapped in there forever or until the fairy decides to set them free. Others like to make it so that the book comes to life and attacks the reader, and a few prefer to make it that if you read the words aloud, the story would happen in real life."

"Interesting," you commented.

"I suppose it is," he agreed. "But I have something that I want to ask of you?"

"What is it?"

"What is your favorite color? I think it may be (F/C), but I want to be absolutely certain."

"Let me guess: it's going to be the color of my wedding dress?"

"If you want it to be," he said. "But what I had in mind was the accent colors of the decorations: like the color of the aisleway, the tablecloths, or even the color of the bridesmaids dresses."

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes. I want to make sure every last single detail of our big day is perfect. Even for the smallest things."

"It is (F/C)," you sighed, a cold pang of embarrassment shot through your heart.

"Oh good, for a moment I wasn't so sure." He let out a breath of relief.

You said nothing as Corvin hummed a light lullaby and came up to one of the windows, looking up towards the moon with a slight smile dancing on his lips. His white hair and skin looked even more ghostly in the silver light, making the crimson and gold of his eyes stand out even more.

"What a pleasant night," he mused. "The sky's clear so you can see the stars and it's a full moon too! I only hope our wedding night is as beautiful as this one."

A flash of anger ran up your arms and you clenched your fists tightly. Calm down, he's only doing this to get me riled up and to lose focus.

"I see," you said, trying to keep the venom leaking out.

"Something the matter? Your jaw looks a little tense," the right corner of his lips twitched further upwards.

Yeah-- you.

Corvin sighed at your lack of response and came back behind you. He put his face a little bit closer to yours, his breath tickling your (S/C) cheek. With a closer look, you saw a ruby earring in his ear that glittered against his pale skin.

Like a droplet of crystalized blood against white marble. You thought and flicked his hand away from you.

"Well, I can't say this was necessarily pleasant, but I now have to take my leave," you grumbled and stormed out of the music room.

"You sure you don't want to talk about what's upsetting you?" Corvin called out.

---

While you jogged down the hallways, the feeling of hope was swelling inside of you. Your body was clenched with excitement and relief with only one thing ringing through your mind: just find that painting and get out of here!

Your eyes darted from side to side, looking for any paintings with a key in it. You slowed down and looked behind you. A realization hit you: why would he give you the answer so easily?

You froze up, shock shot through your back before you shook your head, snorting out of your nose as you cursed yourself for overlooking that one detail. An overwhelming wave of frustration and dread overcame you. It's going to be like that stupid wine cellar or that theater...

A low, rumbling groan came from the back of your throat and you sighed. You sat down on a nearby chair with one leg crossed over the other. If only I had a piece of iron with me, I could just go home without playing this game.

You heard the flapping of wings and you looked up to see a white raven flying over you.

"Corvin?" You called out.

The raven didn't respond as it continued down the corridor, eventually becoming swallowed up by the shadows and leaving behind only a single white plume.

That's weird. Normally, he would have made some sort of condescending comment by now. You furrowed your brows. Wonder where he's heading off too.

You began to go into the direction that the corvid was heading towards. While you walked, you reached for the pocket where your knife was, readying yourself for whatever lurks within the corridor. The only sounds was the echoing of your footsteps and your breathing. The silence was deafening, making each sound worse. As you slowly crept further down the hallway, something bronze glinted in the chandelier light.

Whipping your head, you saw a plaque that read: GALLERY hanging from the wall next to a pair of double doors with doorhandles in the shape of a paintbrush.

"Gallery?" You put your hands on your hips. "As in an art gallery?"

Does that mean it's in there? It might be a trap though.

Your limbs tensed up and your hand reached for the knife. You put your ear to the door and listened for anything on the other side of it. You couldn't make out any sound that would suggest any attackers. However, you wanted to make sure; you didn't want to repeat what happened back at the theater.

You cringed and put a hand to where you had been slashed on the leg. With a trembling hand, you anxiously slid the knife under the door, using the reflection to see any potential dangers. Painfully slowly, you knelt down besides the door and looked down at the reflection.

The angle was disorientating at first, but after a few seconds you got used to it. You carefully slid the knife around to get as clear a view as you could of the room. There was nothing that seemed out of place or dangerous. All you could see was hunter's green wall paper with an intricate floral pattern and five ivory pedestals placed at even intervals on one side of the room. On the other side of the room was a small, round rosewood table with a vase of flowers and a brass candelabra with five lit candles in it.

You waited for a few more moments to ensure that it was safe before reaching for the handle. The metal was icy-cold to the touch and almost painful. You winced slightly before pulling it open. A warm air greeted you as the door groaned and you stepped inside. Immediately, you pulled out your knife and held it in front of you.

Biting the inside of your lip, you took another step inside of the room. Your body tensed, ready for an attack. You made your way to the table, between the vase and candelabra was a pair of gold thin-rimmed glasses with round, owlish lenses.

You turned around and saw that on the right side of the room was a golden plaque that read: OFFERINGS FOR ALL OF THEM.

You froze. Your mouth was partially opened in puzzlement and you looked on your left to the pedestals. Behind them, were five paintings. The paintings were that of a pair of cracked and gray lips, a severed and rotting ear, a bloodshot eye, a veiny and discolored hand, and a cracked nose covered in small scars. All of them were overly-detailed with each grotesque feature carefully rendered, making you feel sick looking at them.

You looked back at the plaque and at the paintings. 'Offerings for all of them?' What does that even mean?

Carefully approaching the paintings, you took in every minute detail of them despite wanting to avert your eyes from them, trying to look for any hints. You put a hand to your temple and closed your eyes in concentration.

Five paintings...

Five offerings...

Wait-- these paintings represented each of the five senses! So I just need to put something on the pedestal that corresponds to that sense!

Without wasting another second, you put the candelabra in front of the painting of the hand and a vase of flower in front of the nose painting. You grabbed the glasses and carefully put it on the eye's pedestal. You winced, realizing that you had to make your way to the music room and put an instrument in front of the ear.

With an exasperated groan, you made your way back to the music room. You prayed that Corvin still wasn't there just to rub your imprisonment in your face. As you walked, you noticed that the Corvin in the painting you saw earlier was grinning even wider.

Shivering, you averted your eyes away from it and began to jog. You could feel its eyes burning on the back of your head like a snake readying to strike.

After what felt like hours, you finally were back at the music room. Immediately, you looked around for an instrument small enough to be placed on the pedestal. You caught the glint of something on your left. Sitting on a table was a long, silvery-white flute that shined in the moonlight like a sword. Your fingers wrapped around the cold metal and you carefully put the instrument into your satchel.

"Why are you back here?"

You turned around to see Corvin a few feet behind you with his hands behind his back and a devious smirk. As he approached closer, you could smell the intoxicating aroma of absinthe, wolfsbane, poppies, and smoke coming from him. It was almost strong enough to make you close your eyes and drop your guard.

"What do you want?" You spat out.

"I asked first," he chuckled, the smirk on his face becoming bigger. His eyes twinkled with a dangerous look in them and he saw the flute peeking from your satchel.

In an instant, he was within arm's length of you and he pulled the flute out of your bag. "My, what were you planning on doing with this?"

"Hey--!" You exclaimed and reached for the flute.

"Were you trying to teach yourself the flute?" He held the instrument higher over his head, his smirk was now a full-on grin.

"Just give it back!" You yelled.

"This is my flute," he corrected. "So I can do with it as I please, not you."

You turned on your heel and looked around for another small instrument. As you were about to reach out for violin, the instrument flew towards Corvin. The fairy's mischief-filled eyes were trained on you like a fox waiting to strike. Turning back around, you reached for a lyre only for that to go towards him a well. Annoyance welled in your chest and you marched over to a clarinet, and the instrument flew towards the fairy.

Every part of your body was boiling with frustration and you scowled at Corvin. He returned your look with a sly smile. After standing in silence for a few moments, he took a step towards you with a gleam in his eyes.

"You know, I'll give an instrument of your choosing to you: under one condition."

"Which is...?" You said, smothering back a groan of dismay.

"You'll have to listen to me play a song with the instrument of your choice and without covering your ears."

"How am I so sure that you aren't going to try and put me under some kind of spell?"

"I could have done that with the piano earlier, but I didn't. And besides, I've been honest with you this entire time, haven't I?"

"Yes but--"

"But what?"

"Who's to say that you wouldn't start being dishonest with me now?"

"You would have a good point, had it not been for the fact that I hold myself to my standards very strictly, and I don't plan on deviating from that any time soon," he countered.

You clenched your eyes and held your hands tightly in your lap, praying that you didn't fall into a trap.

"Fine," you hissed. "I'll listen."

"Excellent," he clasped his hands in front of him. "Now which instrument do you want to listen to?"

"Don't care. So long as I can carry it." You grumbled.

"You sure?" He said and delicately put a hand on the violin. "Don't you have at least an inclination to one of them?"

"None," you answered. "Can we just hurry this up?!"

Corvin shook his head. "My, talk about impatience."

He hummed and looked at the instruments floating in the air. Taking his time inspecting them, running his hand on their surface. You knew that he was enjoying taking his time and that you could do nothing about it.

"I haven't played the flute in a while," he mused and reached out for it. Noticing you relaxing, he quickly retracted his hand.

"Actually, maybe I want to play the violin," he said. "Although I have been playing it quite a lot recently and I want to change it up a bit. So maybe the lyre instead. However, I don't think I'm at an adequate enough level to play it for such a special audience member. Or I can go with the clarinet, although I'm not particularly a big fan of it. Decisions, decisions. decisions..."

Gritting your teeth, you folded your arms underneath your chest. Corvin noticed the glare and softly laughed, he walked behind you.

"Maybe I can play an--"

"Stop stalling and pick something already!" You yelled.

"You know what? I'll go with the flute," he said and plucked the small instrument from the air. "Now please take a seat."

You obeyed, and ironed yourself for what would come next. You squeezed your hands between your thighs and chewed on the inside of your mouth.

"Now what song to play?" Corvin mused.

You were about to say 'I don't care', but stopped yourself, not wanting to give him another excuse to waste your time.

"Mary Had a Little Lamb," you said quickly.

"Seriously?" The fairy raised an eyebrow. "Why not something that's a bit more sophisticated than some silly nursery rhyme?"

"What? You aren't going to play a simple song for me!?" You exclaimed.

"My dear, I will do anything you want me to do, except for that." He answered.

"Oh for the love of-- play Moonlight Sonata!" You shouted.

"Moonlight Sonata it is," Corvin said and with a dramatic pose, he put the flute's embouchure hole to his lips.

The aria was soft and delicate as his slight fingers pressed down on the keys, a tear was starting to form in your eye from how beautiful the performance was. You felt all of the annoyance and impatience slowly sap out of you, replaced by a surreal calmness. You focused solely on the fairy, the world around you was hazy except for him. You were about to fall asleep when he finished.

"Thank you," he bowed at the waist and extended the flute towards you.

You snatched the flute from his hand and exited the music room for the last time.

---

Looking around the room, you saw that there wasn't any food items to present to the mouth. Your heart dropped, realizing that you needed to go back to either the dining room or find the kitchen. You looked at a cookie tin that sat on a dusty shelf. Hope fluttered in your heart and you opened it only to see that it was empty, except for a few small crumbs at the bottom of it.

"Damn it," you grumbled and opened the tea can next to it, only for that to also be empty. Shaking your head, you put the container back on the shelf and moved onto a taffy box.

Please, let this be the rules of three. You prayed and slowly opened it: only to find a couple of wrappers in it.

You threw back your head and growled. You threw the box at the wall and let out a string of curses. Your shoulders tensed in disappointment and dread as your stomach was twisting and boiling. Letting out a groan through your teeth, you left the room hopefully for what would be the final time.

---

After taking a few wrong turns, you finally reached the dining room once more. You reached the doorknob and braced yourself for Corvin and his taunting remarks. Sucking up a deep breath, you opened the door slowly.

To your shock and relief, he wasn't there. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose.

Oh thank you God. You grabbed a porcelain plate and ripped off the baked goose's leg and put a bread roll on it.

"I knew you'd eventually eat," Corvin said behind you. "Come, sit down."

You rolled your eyes and pushed past him, not wanting to put up with him for any longer. You grabbed the door handle and pulled on it, it was locked. Gritting your teeth, you pulled on it harder but it remained firmly locked.

"What? Hey, open the doors!" You demanded.

"Only after you eat," he answered and poured himself some wine.

"No," you seethed.

"Then they'll remain locked," he answered coolly.

Unless you give up.

You stood in place and glared at him, not wanting to look at the cornucopia. Putting your hands in your pockets, you leaned against the wall next to the door. The minutes started to feel like days, the delectable smells of the dinner became stronger, making your mouth water. You could almost taste the buttery skin and the soft flesh of the goose, feeling the juices bursting into your mouth as you took a bite. You clenched your jaw set and crossed your arms over your chest. Corvin turned his head towards you, a smile was dancing on his face.

"If your plan is to wait until I finally open the doors, then it's not going to work. You're just wasting time. Time that could have been used for you to look for the front door key." He laughed and took a drink from his goblet.

Clamping your jaw, you sat down in the nearest chair. Your hands reached for the fork and knife, trembling as you cut a piece of goose. You glanced at the side to see Corvin watching you as he took another sip.

"Go on then," he said.

You looked down at the plate, the glistening skin of the goose looked as if it was pulsating in the light. The smell was becoming stronger. Your heart slowly thumped as you raised the morsel closer to your mouth. Your hands were shaking more as it was now barely brushing against your lips. Clenching your eyes shut, you put it in your mouth.

Your tastebuds tingled at the savory juices and the tenderness of the meat before you greedily swallowed. Without thinking, you took another bite out of the goose without bothering to chewing it. Your hunger had over came you, and you piled your plate with every food within an arm's reach. Immediately, you scarfed down your food. You were almost done with eating when you remembered why you were here to begin with. Panic stabbed through your heart and you snapped your head at Corvin; his mischievous grin was curled up even further than before.

"Didn't I tell you that nothing will happen if you eat it?" He sipped from his goblet. "Unlike some of the more loutish of my kind, I don't like spiking or cursing my guests' food. Unless they're a political enemy, in which case, it's fair game."

"Now that I've ate, are you going to finally open those doors?" You grunted.

"Of course," he said and snapped his fingers.

Quickly, you stuffed a bread roll and the plate into your satchel.

"Are you saving that for later?" Corvin tilted his head, his eyes twinkling.

You rolled your eyes and left the dining room.

---

"Here it goes," you sighed and put the plate of food on the mouth painting's pedestal. A soft click came from the door and you walked towards it.

As you were about to reach for the doorknob, you heard the sounds of mouth smacking and heavy sniffing with flute music playing behind you. Whipping your head around, you saw that the plate of food had been eaten down the very last morsel and that the flowers in the vase were limp. The paintings were now completely black, the surface rippling ever so slightly like water.

Your breath hitched and you cautiously looked back at the door. With a shaky hand, you slowly pushed the doors open

#dark fantasy #faerie #fairy #fem reader #horror #male yandere #my writing #reader insert #yandere #male yandere x female reader #yandere fairy #yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #the white crow game

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thatbloodymuggle · 7 months ago

Text

MASTERMIND (ii)

TWO - FALLING WATER

SUMMARY: A child of light and dark, you are the Night Court’s best kept secret. After decades spent in hiding, you yearn to stretch your wings. But you quickly learn that freedom comes with a price, as you find yourself trying to outfox the fox in his own den.

PAIRING: eris vanserra x reader

WORD COUNT: 9.4k

SERIES MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: language, smut, oral (f receiving)

The memories of the night before come crashing down over you before your eyes even open the next morning. As you stir from your restless sleep, you can still smell the cedar of the blazing bonfire, hear the waltz of the orchestra, and feel Eris’s lips ghosting over your neck. Your eyes flutter open, and you lazily run a hand over your face. You flinch at the cool feeling of metal against your cheek, all grogginess gone as you look down at your hand. The silver of Eris’s ring still sits proudly on your thumb–a reminder that you hadn’t imagined last night’s events.

Autumn Court treating you well, my little liaison?

You jolt abruptly at the sound of Rhys’s voice flooding your mind.

Well enough, you reply as you haul yourself from the creaky bed.

Any updates? He questions.

The dust-covered floor is cold underneath your feet as you pad to the bathroom. I made initial contact last night, you reply. Your cheeks warm as you will away any thoughts about the details of your initial contact.

Did he take the bait?

Like a fish, you hum over the connection.

His deep laugh fills your mind, Good. Tread carefully.

You roll your eyes and send over one last message before putting up your mental barriers. Will do, oh mighty High Lord.

Right on cue, your stomach grumbles. A hunger pain washes over you, and you glance toward the kitchenette with a frown. You hadn’t even realized that the last time you ate a proper meal was in the Night Court before your departure yesterday. You hastily wipe the sleep from your face and prepare yourself for the day ahead. Once you deem yourself presentable enough, you throw a cloak over your shoulders and head out into the forest towards the town. Another wave of hunger washes over you, prompting you to winnow rather than walk.

A sweet aroma of clover and fire smoke tickles at your nose as you land in the middle of the small-town square. A soft smile graces your features as you take in the familiar surroundings–you have always loved the colonial architecture of the Autumn Court. The saltbox houses of varying sizes and colors are perfectly mismatched, with wooden ‘Open’ signs hanging in each window. You make your way down the cobblestone path, an empty basket in hand, and begin your window shopping.

By noon, your basket is nearly overflowing with a variety of goods ranging from freshly baked pastries to perfectly ripened apples. After several hours of flashing smiles and playing the part of Athena Ellesmere flawlessly, your social battery is drained, to say the least. All you want is to curl up in front of the fireplace in your cabin and read one of the many books you’ve packed. But you have one more stop to make.

A bell jingles as you push open the mahogany door of the wheat and grain store. You barely close it behind you before you are bombarded with a familiar, cheerful voice.

“Athena!”

You fight through your exhaustion and force a wide smile onto your face as you turn to Willow. Her red hair is slightly duller than much of the Autumn Court residents–more of a strawberry blonde. But her green eyes are strikingly bright, reminding you of the emerald of Eris’s shirt last night.

You set down your basket and greet her with an embrace, “It’s good to see you, Willow.”

“You’ve settled in well?” she chirps as she pulls away with a grin.

You nod with a soft smile, “For the most part. I was just picking up some things for my stay, but I had to stop in.”

The faerie smiles and opens her mouth to reply but pauses at the sound of the door creaking behind her. You tense as a burly male enters the shop from the backdoor. Finnian is far from the worst Autumn Court male you have encountered–but he certainly isn’t pleasant either.

A bitter taste floods your mouth as you force your head into a greeting bow for the male before you, as per Autumn Court custom. As beautiful as the land is, you could never fathom living in a society in which females are treated with such little respect. Still, you conceal your distaste as you greet him, “Hello, Finnian.”

He merely grunts and nods in greeting. You fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“Your father couldn’t come himself?” he sneers.

You dig your nails into your palms, but your sickly-sweet smile doesn’t falter, “Unfortunately, no. I’ll be doing his bids once again.”

Finnian grunts in disapproval but doesn’t press the subject further. Instead, he nods his head at his wife expectantly. Willow turns to you with an apologetic smile, “I should really get back to work. But I would love it if you’d stop in during my lunch break one of these days.”

Your smile stretches wider, your cheeks burning in protest, as you nod and pick up your basket, “Yes, of course. It was good seeing you both.”

You all but run out of the store and let out a sigh of relief when you finally drop the plastic smile. “Stupid Autumn Court males and their fragile egos,” you grumble to yourself. You were already exhausted–but that unpleasant interaction was the cherry on top of a draining morning.

With your basket nearly overflowing with goodies, you decide against winnowing. So, with a long sigh, you begin your stride back to your cabin. The basket weighs heavily on your arm, but you allow the wind nipping at your nose to distract you from the dull ache. As you leave the small town behind you and enter the forest, you immerse yourself in the kaleidoscope of autumn colors.

And as you study the unique bend and curve of each tree truck, you can’t help but think about your mother. The reds reminded you of her velvet dresses. The yellows were her radiant skin when the sun rays shone through the library windows. The browns reflected her kind eyes, warm like chocolate. She would have loved this.

Your back stiffens as you feel a lingering presence behind you. You don’t dare look back, but your ears perk up. Sure enough, a twig crunches to your left. Who the hell is watching you? A wave of dread rushes over you, but you continue forward. You make sure the rhythm of your steps doesn’t falter, as to not alert your stalker to your awareness of their presence. Your hand slowly trails to the pocket of your cloak, and you subtly brandish a pocket-sized dagger Azriel gifted you last Starfall. In one swift motion, you spin around, drop your basket of goodies, and hold the dagger against the throat of your stalker.

Your heart sinks at the sight of bright, amber eyes staring back at you.

“Now this isn’t a very polite manner of greeting, is it Little Bird?” Eris’s lips curl into a roguish smile despite the metal pressed tightly against his throat.

The initial shock rolls over you and you drop the dagger. A hot flush crawls up your neck and you drop to your knees to gather the apples that had spilled out of your basket to avoid his piercing gaze.

“Well, it isn’t very polite to sneak up on people, is it?” you counter.

Just as your fingers graze the last apple, he swoops down and wraps his hand over yours atop the piece of fruit. You still as he rolls his thumb over the silver ring sitting snugly on yours.

“And it isn’t very polite to steal,” he muses, “But I suppose I should’ve known better. After all, birds are drawn to shiny things.”

You snatch your hand away, and Eris uses the opportunity to grab the apple before swiftly rising to his full height. You watch, dumbfounded, as he takes a large bite, a bit of juice dribbling down his chin. He wipes it away with a knowing smirk, and the blush crawling up your neck reaches your cheeks. Your mind screams at you, get it together. You blink, taking a moment to collect yourself, before standing up on wobbly legs.

“Fox got your tongue?” he taunts.

Your lips part at the way his tongue darts out to catch another bit of juice dribbling out the corner of his mouth. Your eyes scan down his body, drinking in his appearance. Gone is the emerald silk shirt from the night before, and in its place a sage vest atop a cream, long-sleeve shirt with billowing sleeves. Even in this more casual attire, he still exudes a certain elegance.

Finally, you are able to formulate words, “Your trousers are undone.”

His brows furrow as he looks down, and you snatch the half-eaten apple from his unsuspecting hand. You take a large bite and relish in the sweetness of the fruit. Eris grins like a cheshire cat as he realizes your play. A hearty chuckle rumbles in his chest.

“Perhaps I misjudged you,” he drawls, “You thieve like a vixen.”

You finish off the apple with a satisfied hum and toss the core into the woods, away from the dirt path. “I would think that centuries of existence would teach you better than to judge a book by its cover,” you quip, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I do have business to attend to.”

You turn on your heel and continue your stride along the winding path. To no surprise, Eris falls into step beside you.

“And what business may that be?” he inquires.

A small smile twitches at your lips, “You’re nosy today,” you tease, but answer his query, nonetheless, “Some correspondences for my father. He’s sent me here to solidify some trade agreements with the harvest season beginning.”

“A merchant’s daughter,” Eris wonders aloud, “Not exactly what I had you pegged for.”

You arch a brow and tilt your head to face him, “And what is it that you had me pegged for?”

He takes the heavy basket from your arm, ignoring your protests, “A scholar. Or perhaps a spy.”

It takes everything in you not to react to his second guess, even though his tone is teasing. Instead, you reply coolly, “Well I’m also here to do some research. I have some ideas about some more efficient trade routes, but I haven’t been able to find any library with an adequate collection of atlases.”

Eris hums in thought, and you pray he plays into your hand, “I may be able to grant you access to the Forest House library,” you force down your proud grin, “But for a price.”

You don’t bother hiding the exaggerated roll of your eyes, “And what might that be?”

Your heart skips a beat as he steps into your path, halting you abruptly. His head dips and you suck in a breath at his proximity. You find yourself mesmerized by the strong bridge of his nose, the fullness of his lips, as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His delicate touch sends a shiver up your spine.

“A few hours of your time. I’d like to show you a place more befitting of your beauty than that little ransack cabin you’ve been caged in. Somewhere you can spread your wings, Little Bird,” he breathes.

You gulp, eyes wide at his forwardness–not to mention his inadvertent admission that he has been watching you. You all but melt into the touch of his calloused fingers as they trail down the side of your face before falling back at his side. His lips curl with amusement as you fumble for words.

“Okay,” you lamely reply.

He hums, satisfied by your answer. Your breath hitches in your throat as he leans closer and presses his lips against your cheek. His kiss is gentle, but it lingers in a tortuous manner that leaves you wanting more as he pulls away. Warm eyes wink at you as he purrs, “Till next time, Little Bird.”

And with that, he vanishes, winnowing away before you can catch your breath. Your heart races as you lift a hand to your face, ghosting your fingers over the spot on your cheek where his lips had been. He used your own move against you, and you can’t decide if you are awed or terrified–or both. But whatever the feeling, a dark part of you revels in it.

Guilt crashes over you at the realization; just as fierce as the unbridled desire that pools in the pit of your stomach. Your feet move with a mind of their own as your mind spirals. You should not be enjoying this. As much as Rhys may try to hold on to his feeble alliance with him, Eris is the enemy. And your indulgence in his game of seduction is a grave betrayal to not only your court, but to your sister.

You aren’t conscious of your movements as you enter your ramshackle cabin. Methodically, you kick off your boots, set down your basket, and shed your heavy cloak. You slip out of your burnt orange dress and move to the bathroom, your heart pounding in your ears. The silver ring glittering on your thumb is suddenly scorching, and you hastily take it off, throwing it onto the counter. As you stare at your reflection in the mirror, you desperately search your own features for some semblance of stability; some sort of reminder of what you’re here to do. You turn to the side and raise your arm, brushing your hand over the underside of your breast.

A sigh of relief passes through your lips as the glamour you’ve worn since you stepped foot in the Autumn Court fades, and your tattoo stares back at you: the Night Court insignia, identical to that worn by the other members of the inner circle. But unlike the others, the Day Court sun shines bright behind the Illyrian Mountain. You trace the lines, and the tension in your shoulders subsides.

Despite the undeniable effect Eris has over you, you know where your loyalty and your love lies. No matter how wily the fox may be.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Two days. Two excruciatingly long days full of fake bargaining, plastic smiles, and arrogant males have passed–and Eris hasn’t shown his face. Perhaps he got tied up with some court politics, or more likely, he forgot entirely. Whatever the case, you are not pleased, to say the least. Nor is Rhys. The beauty of the Autumn Court is the only thing that has kept you sane. But even in all its charm, you are growing restless. And you’re not sure how much longer you can wait around, itching to play.

Desperate to blow off some steam, you find yourself venturing far into the woods to mindlessly use your powers. You know it’s a risk–if anyone were to catch wind of your Night or Day Court powers, it could very possibly blow your entire cover. But if you don’t do something, you may simply die of boredom. You lose track of time as you conjure light from your fingertips into the trees above, slink into the shadows, and winnow in circles. Light, shadow, winnow, repeat. Over and over again, until the adrenaline passes, and exhaustion sets in.

Sweat beads at your brow as you winnow, once, twice, three times more before you finally land in front of your cabin. Your legs wobble as you stumble towards the front door. Despite your tired limbs, you haven’t felt so awake since you first set foot in the Autumn Court.

You are minutes away from collapsing on your rickety bed and reading yourself to sleep. So, imagine your surprise when you enter and find a head of flaming red hair seated on top of it.

Eris isn’t just seated–he’s lounging on your bed, legs crossed, as if he owns it. His eyes don’t so much as shift in your direction, as he appears to be immersed in one of your books. You squint at the title, and your eyes widen with horror as it clicks. He’s reading one of Nesta’s books. Those stupid, cursed, little smut books she can’t seem to stop shoving down your throat.

“I knew you were filthy, Little Bird, but I didn’t think you were this filthy,” Eris muses.

You’re sure your cheeks are now matching the color of his hair as you rush forward and snatch the book from his hands. His eyes finally meet yours, and if your magic wasn’t completely drained, you would slip into the shadows without a second thought. He wears a vicious grin and playful delight dances in the irises of his eyes.

“It’s not mine,” you mumble, averting your own eyes from his punishing gaze.

He tuts, “I don’t like liars, Birdie. It’s okay to admit you need a little release sometimes. Everyone does. Although, when I need a little release, I usually–”

“What are you doing here?” you hiss, the blush on your cheeks burning even brighter than before.

He holds his hands coyly across his chest and taps his index fingers together in a taunting motion, “You promised me a few hours of your time–or did you forget?”

You narrow your eyes and clutch the book tightly to your chest, as if the damage hasn’t already been done, “A little heads up would have been nice. You can’t just barge in here as you please.”

He swings his legs over the side of the bed and rises, stalking closer to you. You tense as he stops right in front of you and tilts your chin up softly, so your eyes meet his, “I am a busy man. Forgive me, darling.”

He runs his tongue along his teeth with a feline smile as he watches you audibly gulp.

“Where are we going?” you lamely ask.

He clicks his tongue in his mouth before replying, “Now if I tell you that will ruin all the fun.”

You roll your eyes and jerk yourself out of his hold, “Can you at least tell me what attire would be appropriate?”

“What you’re wearing is fine. But I don’t think green is your color,” he banters.

Your glare speaks louder than words.

“Although,” he grasps your hand in his and brandishes a familiar, silver ring from his pocket, “You seem to have forgotten your little trophy.”

You watch as he slides the ring back onto your thumb. You frown and flick your eyes up towards his, “You can have it back.”

Eris shakes his head, “I’d like it if you wore it–at least throughout your stay here,” he pauses, before continuing, “Can you promise me you won’t take it off again?”

Although the playful glint in his eye remains, it falters for a fraction of a moment, revealing an emotion you can’t quite place your finger on–something dark. But you decide against pushing the subject. You simply nod, and he hums in satisfaction.

“Well let’s get moving then. Unless you’d rather stay here and continue reading your filthy little–”

“I’m moving,” you effectively cut Eris off, willing the blush not to return to your cheeks. You fight the urge to roll your eyes when you feel his gaze on your ass as you exit the cabin. “Are we walking?” you send him a glance over your shoulder.

“Too far,” he falls into step beside you, “We’ll winnow.”

Your shoulders tense, and you are suddenly reminded of the aching in your body from running your magic dry earlier. You halt abruptly and turn to face him fully, “I can’t.”

Eris’s arches a brow in incredulity, “I just heard you winnow not even 10 minutes ago.”

A sheepish smile takes over your face and you reply as nonchalantly as possible, “I’m too tired. I was, erm, blowing off some steam earlier—I don’t think I could even winnow to the other side of the cabin right now.”

His eyes narrow slightly as he analyzes your answer, “Blowing off steam?”

You cringe internally and send the Autumn Court heir a nervous smile, “You know, just winnowing around.”

His scrutinizing gaze narrows further, “So you were just winnowing around in circles?”

“Yes.”

“And now you can’t winnow anymore?”

“Correct.”

It’s the truth—just not all of it.

Despite your best efforts, you can’t contain your giggle. You didn’t think about how ridiculous it would sound; winnowing around to burn off energy, much like a dog chasing its own tail. As you chuckle quietly to yourself, the playful grin returns to Eris’s face.

“You’re a strange little thing,” he laughs, and reaches out his hand to you.

You gaze at his waiting hand, and tentatively intertwine your fingers with his before you can talk yourself out of it. A familiar rush of adrenaline surges through you as he winnows you both, the world twisting and folding around you.

You don’t attempt to contain your gasp at the sight before you. In-between a crowd of beautiful orange and red-leafed trees lies a waterfall unlike any you’ve seen before. In fact, this may very well be the first waterfall you’ve ever seen. It is modestly sized, and flows down several layers of terraced, moss-covered rock; but the beauty, the intoxicating smell, is unlike anything you’ve experienced before. The cherry on top of the cake is the small watermill cottage at the creek bend, just where the water falls off. The scene looks like something out of an art museum. Captivated, you edge towards the water until the mist tickles your nose.

“It’s…breath-taking,” you mumble, vaguely aware of Eris lingering beside you.

While you gaze is fixed on the scene before you, his is set on you. He can’t help but study the way your lips part in awe, your familiar eyes widen in wonderment—like you’re experiencing the world for the first time.

“It is,” he mumbles in response, although his gaze remains trained on you.

He follows you quietly—patiently—as you wander closer to the water’s edge. You run your fingertips along each moss-covered rock, trying to engrain every small detail into your memory. You crouch down to dip your hand into the blue-green water, but jolt back at the frigid temperature.

“Where are we?” you cock your head to the side, finally peeling your eyes away from the picturesque scene.

Eris leans against a tree, his arms crossed over his chest. The sleeves of his white undershirt billow softly in the breeze. “Up North. Closer to the Winter Court border,” his deep voice rumbles over the sound of the waterfall, “I come here when I need to think.”

“I take it the house is yours?” you gesture towards the small cottage.

“More or less. It was a part of my mother’s estate once; a very long time ago,” he pushes off the tree and stalks closer to you, “It’s not a secret, but it’s…private. When I don’t want to be found, or simply need space, it’s unlikely anyone will look here.”

“Do you hide from your family often?” you hum nonchalantly.

Eris bristles slightly at your question, but replies coolly, “Sometimes. They have a tendency to be…suffocating.”

You know that feeling all too well—but you simply nod, avoiding the slippery slope of divulging your own past. You sit down on a nearby tree stump, and gaze out at the waterfall as you ask, “Are you close with your brothers?”

He strides towards you and perches himself atop a large boulder, “In some ways, yes. But being heir to the throne doesn’t afford me the luxury of friends.”

You open your mouth to fire yet another question, but he cuts you off with an impish smile, “You’re curious today, Little Bird. It doesn’t seem fair that you know so much about me, and I know so little about you.”

“You know my name. And you choose not to use it,” you counter with an arched brow.

“Would you like me to?” he asks.

A simple question should afford a simple answer. But for some reason, his query makes the hair on your arms stand on end. You should say yes. You shouldn’t let silly little pet names distract you from the work you’re here to do. Say yes.

“No.”

He hums in satisfaction, and you avoid his gaze by training your eyes back onto the waterfall. From your peripheral, you can see Eris rise from his spot on the boulder. He moves out of your line of vision, and you can hear the rustling of fabric behind you. Your curiosity screams at you to look back; but your stubbornness keeps your head trained forward.

Suddenly, the rustling stops. Just as you’re about to give into your curiosity and turn around, a nearly-naked Eris bounds past you, towards the water, and dives gracefully in. Your jaw drops as you let out an involuntary squeal, trying (and failing) to shield yourself from the splash.

“Are you insane?” you shriek as soon as his head pops back up out of the water.

He shakes his hair like a dog and wipes a hand over his face with a childish grin. You can’t help but laugh at the sight, causing his toothy grin to widen even further.

“Only slightly,” he retorts, head bobbing as he treads water, “Why don’t you join me?”

You shake your head vigorously, “Absolutely not. I’m not in the mood to freeze to death.”

“Come on, Little Bird. It’s not that cold,” he taunts, “How about we play a game?”

He swims closer and you subconsciously lean forward. A glint of mischief dances in your eyes as you ask, “What sort of game?”

He raises his arms out of the water and folds them across a rock along the edge. You gulp at the sight of his broad shoulders and can’t help but study the way his muscles ripple as he moves.

“Since you’re so privy to asking me questions,” he drums his fingers along the rock, “I get to ask you five.”

You fold your arms across your chest, “That’s it?”

A devilish grin dances across his lips, “If you fail to answer any question, you join me in here.”

Your eyes narrow into a glare, but your smile betrays you, “Three questions.”

“Four.”

“Fine,” you relent.

Eris wades gently through the water in thought before speaking up again, “What’s your greatest fear?”

Your mouth moves before you brain can catch up, “Being trapped—not like in a traditional claustrophobia sort of way, but in the sense that I can’t do what I want, move as I please.”

Eris’s head tilts as he mulls over your response before asking another question, “What’s your biggest dream?”

Again, your mouth moves with a mind of its own, “I want to travel the world—see every little piece of Prythian, and when I run out of land, explore the seas.”

“I thought your father is a merchant—you don’t travel with him?”

Your heart skips a beat as you realize your misstep. But, like the professional Azriel has trained you to be, you don’t so much as twitch an eye to show your error. “I only travel to the mainland of each Court to do is biddings for him. I haven’t seen much—really anything—beyond that,” you maintain a steady voice as you lie through your teeth, “Two more questions.”

Eris’s eyes narrow slightly as he scans your face. Your answer seems too…rehearsed. But you’ve shown absolutely no indication of lying. Finally, he asks, “What about your mother?”

Your detached exterior falters. Your lips dip ever so slightly into a frown. Eris watches intently. Finally, you muster a response, “She died during Amarantha’s crusade.”

Eris frowns and his head dips slightly—a sign of respect, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Your lips part at the motion. It is extremely uncharacteristic of Autumn Court males to treat females with such respect. In fact, Eris has surprised you with every single one of your interactions. Coming into this, you knew that he wasn’t a typical male, considering he wants Beron dead. But you weren’t quite prepared for just how, well, normal he is.

“Thank you,” you finally reply with sincerity. Your lips curl into a soft smile, one which you don’t have to force, as you change the subject, “Last question.”

He matches your smile and swims backwards, dipping his hair under water, “I’ve better make it good then.”

You watch as he swims to and fro, taking his sweet time deciding what nonsense he will inevitably throw your way. His questions have been far too calm and calculated thus far; and you haven’t refused one.

Right on cue, Eris swims towards you with a smile befitting of the devil. You can practically see the flames dancing in his irises, and the pitchfork tail wagging behind him.

“Does the carpet match the drapes?”

You were expecting nonsense. But you aren’t sure if anything could have prepared you for that.

Your face pales and you drop your jaw in utter shock. His is nearly as red as his hair as he tries, and fails, to contain his laughter. Suddenly, the switch flips and you face contorts into disgust.

“You are swine, Eris Vanserra. Filthy, perverted swine,” you screech as you leap from your tree stump.

He howls in laughter, and you want nothing more than to wring his neck. You turn swiftly on your heel and send him a crude gesture over your shoulder as you storm away.

“Oh, come back, Little Bird! I was only teasing,” tears spill from the corners of his eyes as he tries to calm himself down.

You pause and turn back towards him. Your glare is as icy as Nesta’s as you stare at him. He has never looked more like a fox through his snickering laughter. He swims to the edge of the water and beckons you forward. Your feet remain planted in the ground, “You promise?”

Tears of delight well again in his amber eyes as he replies, “Yes. I don’t care if they match.”

Your lips curl into a vicious snarl and you grab a rock, chucking it as hard as you can towards him. He barely dodges the flying stone through his hysterics. “Okay, okay, I promise I’m done now,” he wheezes.

You tap your foot impatiently as you wait for him to calm down. Finally, his manic laughter ceases, and he simply looks at you with a faux apologetic smile.

“Well come on, then.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip with a frown, “I’m not taking off my clothes.”

“If you swim in that dress you’ll drown,” he nods his head at the heavy material, “At least put on my shirt.”

You hesitate as you eye the cream, long-sleeved button-down shirt tossed haphazardly onto the forest floor. You reach down to pick it up and run your hands over the soft linen material. He senses your hesitation and adds, “I’ll turn around, if you’d like.”

Your eyes flick towards him, and true to his word, he turns and swims in the opposite direction. Still, you wait until he’s on the other end of the stream before stepping behind a tree and stripping off your dress. The breeze nips at your bare skin, and you shiver at the sensation. You take off layer after layer until you are left in your bra and panties. You hastily slide into Eris’s shirt and button it up all the way. It provides ample coverage, falling nearly to your knees—but you’re still freezing. And you can’t imagine the water will be any more pleasant.

“Come on, Little Bird. I won’t wait all day,” Eris whines, the nearness of his voice indicating that he had finished his lap around the water.

Finally, you step out of the trees. His Adam’s apple bobs at the image of you in his shirt. He doesn’t hide the way his eyes drift, scanning down your bare legs. A blush creeps up your neck, and before he can make a comment about your near nakedness, you set into a sprint and leap.

Your regret your decision before you even hit the water. And you want to kill Eris when you do.

“It’s fucking freezing!” you wail the second your head breaks through the surface. You wipe the water from your eyes through a series of hyperventilating gasps, your body working hard to generate some kind of warmth. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” you repeat your new mantra over and over again, unwanted tears pricking at the corners of your narrowed eyes.

“Come here,” he beckons you forward.

You shake your head in obstinance.

Eris rolls his eyes at your childlike behavior. He swims towards you in three graceful strokes. You scramble backwards in the water, but he is a much more skilled swimmer than you.

“Let me help you,” his voice his sweet like honey. You know this is his game—poke and prod until you bleed, and then lick the wounds clean.

You shake your head again and move to swim away, but he lunges before you can escape.

Instant, sweet, warm relief.

You nearly moan as his arms wrap around your body and pull you into his chest. He is hot—literally and figuratively. His chest burns like a furnace, and you wrap your arms around his neck without a second thought, pulling him even closer. You can feel him smiling as you nestle your head into the crook of his neck and wrap your legs around his waist. His legs work hard underneath the surface, keeping you both upright.

“Better?” he coos.

You simply grunt into his shoulder and nod.

His chuckle reverberates through your body, warming you even more. You are puddy in his hands, but right now, you couldn’t care less. You don’t utter a word as you relish in his warmth. The two of you slip into a comfortable silence, filled only by the distant rush of the waterfall and the water lapping up against your bodies. Just as you let your eyes flutter shut, the silence is severed by his rumbling voice.

“As much as I love your sharp tongue, Little Bird, I quite like you like this—sweet, soft, and pliant in my arms.”

You frown at the smugness in his tone and move to push away, but he wraps his arms around you even tighter.

“I’m still upset with you,” you grumble petulantly into his shoulder.

The tension in your shoulders eases as he presses his lips to the top of your head. You involuntarily shudder as he mumbles softly into your hair, “I’m sorry, Little Bird. Can I make it up to you?”

His hands move from underneath your thighs, and you wrap your legs tightly around his hips. Your breath hitches as he slowly trails his hands up over the curve of your hips. You are suddenly aware of how his button-down shirt floats to the surface, leaving your body almost completely exposed under the water. His hands still at the dip of your waist, and he rubs circles into your skin with his thumbs. His left hand leaves, and you flinch as it grazes the side of your neck, gently pushing your hair aside. Your heart beats frantically as he ghosts his lips along your sensitive skin. His open-mouthed kisses become firmer, but remain tentative; as if he’s giving you the opportunity to stop him.

Slowly, you raise your head from the crook of his neck. Your eyes are wide, pupils blown as your gaze cautiously shifts upwards. You study the rise and fall of his chest, the shift of his jaw, before finally meeting the amber of his eyes. Your noses are millimeters apart—far too close for comfort, but you’re frozen in place.

Your lips part as his left hand reaches upwards again, and he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Any façade of apathy is long gone as your eyes become a window to your soul: curiosity, trepidation, but above all, an unwavering desire. Your body moves on its own accord as you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of Eris’s neck. The tip of your nose bumps against his, and that’s all it takes for him to lurch forward and close the gap between you.

Your mind typically works in overdrive. But the moment Eris’s lips meet yours, it empties entirely. His lips are impossibly soft as they move against yours in a languid dance. His hand cups the side of your face as he deepens the kiss, and you can’t help but sink into his gentle touch. His lips are smooth against your chapped ones, but you move in sync—like giving breath to fire. His fingers dig slightly into your waist, eliciting a gasp, and he uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into the gap between your lips. You jump at the cold feeling of rock against your back, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he nips softly at your bottom lip. You can feel your heart pounding in your head and your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away.

“Relax, Little Bird,” he mumbles against your lips.

He pulls away but before you can protest the loss, he dips down and latches his lips to your neck. Your own swollen lips part in a silent gasp as he trails kisses down your neck, to your collarbone. You dig your nails into his skin as he nips particularly hard in one spot, and he groans against you. The hand gripping your waist slowly lowers to the curve of your hip, and you suck in a breath. He pauses his movements, and you nearly melt as his eyes flick up to yours. He waits patiently, silently asking for your permission. Your head dips into a nod and before you can process what is happening, his lips are on yours once again and his hand is firmly gripping the curve of your ass.

This time, you can taste his hunger as he kisses you with fervor. Your head is spinning, and you grip around him tightens as he palms your soft skin underneath the frigid water. He presses you further into the rock behind you, and you freeze as his hand moves up and toys with the lacy fabric at your hips. He slides a finger underneath the band of your panties, and all of a sudden, the fog of desire clouding your mind rises.

“Wait,” you pull away with a gasp.

Even through your inner turmoil, you can’t help but admire the beauty of his tousled crimson hair, wide eyes, and swollen lips.

His hand stills against your hip, before retreating underneath your knees to hold you up as he did before.

“I’m sorry,” he pants, “I got carried away. If I was moving too fast, I—”

“No,” you cut him off, “You didn’t do anything. You were perfect—I mean,” your decades of reading ancient literature seem to slip away as you scramble for words, “It’s not you. I just haven’t, um, you know…”

He furrows his brows in confusion, but his eyes widen in realization at the flaming, red blush crawling up your neck. The look of surprise on his god-like features makes you want to sink into the cold abyss below and never come up. Instead, you look down at the water lapping up between you two to avoid his gaze.

“I didn’t realize you were saving yourself,” his tone his soft, a contrast to his typically sharp tongue.

The blush creeping up your neck reaches your cheeks as you look up at him again and shake your head, “No, no I’m not. I just, well, I haven’t before. Not because I don’t want to,” you sigh, “I guess the opportunity has just never presented itself.”

You brace yourself for the impact of his teasing, but it never comes. Instead, his usually cold eyes are warm with understanding, and a soft smile tugs at his pink lips.

“No one’s ever touched you before?” he asks with sincerity.

You shake your head and wish the water below you would swallow you whole.

He caresses the side of your face with a feather-light touch that makes you shiver before replying, “It’s not anything to be embarrassed about. I just can’t believe no male has ever pursued you, in all your beauty.”

No man has ever pursued you, because no man has been able. You lived the first twenty years of your life hidden between rows of bookshelves. You spent the next decade hidden in the House of Wind, and since then, you’ve only left Velaris with the sole intent of business with other courts. But you can’t tell Eris all of this. You can’t tell him that you’ve never had sex before because, despite their good intention, Mor and Rhys have kept you under their thumbs for the entirety of your adult life. You can’t tell him how you desire, more than anything else, to break out of their mold.

So instead, you say, “I want you to show me.”

Eris stares at you, his eyes swimming with an emotion you can’t quite put your finger on. You wait with bated breath, but he doesn’t move. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lunge forward and pull him closer with your arms around his neck. The moment your lips reconnect, any thought in the back of your mind about your mission, your purpose for being here in the first place, dissipates entirely.

He groans at the feeling of your lips against his and wraps his arms tightly underneath your thighs. You barely feel the world twisting and folding as he winnows you out of the water. A wave of heat rushes over you and you can feel your whole body dry, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he carries you in his arms and runs his tongue along your bottom lip. Eris lays you down onto something soft, and you whine as he pulls away. Your eyes flutter open and your mouth sets into a pout, but for the first time, you notice the change in scenery.

You’re in a cabin—more accurately, on a plush bed in a cabin. But this cottage is much larger than what you’ve grown accustomed to in the woods.

“Patience, Little Bird,” Eris’s voice is thick with desire as he crawls on top of you. He nudges a knee between your legs, and you part them without a second thought.

He wears a smug smile as he dips down. You lurch forward to kiss him again, but he merely hovers a few inches above you, just out of your reach. You try again, this time tugging on the back of his neck to pull him down. But he simply won’t budge.

“Don’t be a prick,” you grumble, frustration boiling under your skin.

He laughs, and the sound makes something churn deep in your gut.

“Tell me where you want me, Birdie,” Eris rasps.

You frown, but you are too stunned to speak. You desperately want to wipe the smug grin off his face, but the words just won’t come out.

“Here?” he hums, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, “Or here?” his hand trails down your neck, to the curve of your breast. You hold your breath as he lightly drags his fingernails down to your stomach, pushing aside his shirt, “Am I getting closer?” he muses as he traces the band of your panties.

You dig your nails into his shoulders and whisper, “I want you to kiss me.”

Eris hums in approval and swoops down, reconnecting your lips once more. Your teeth bump slightly with the force of the kiss and your lips slide sloppily against his. You reach between your bodies and grab his hand, pressing it back against your abdomen before sliding it up.

“I want you everywhere,” you mumble against his lips.

He releases a guttural moan into your mouth. Eris doesn’t give you a moment to think twice as he flips your bodies around so that his back is against the headboard of the bed, and you are straddling his lap. You move to unbutton his undershirt which still engulfs your body, but he swats your hands away. You gasp into his mouth as he swiftly rips the shirt open, sending buttons flying across the room. You let him push the material off your shoulders, and shiver as the air tickles your nearly bare body. His hands slowly, teasingly wrap around your waist, simultaneously pulling you closer and unclasping your bra. His lips slow against yours as he drags the flimsy material over your shoulders and down your arms, exposing your breasts to him.

Eris pulls his lips away from yours and gazes down at your bare chest. You are unable to will away the flush crawling up your neck as he caresses the curve of your breasts and runs his thumbs over your peaked nipples. His forehead falls against yours and he whispers against your lips, “You are perfect.”

His head dips down towards your breasts and his amber eyes flick up to yours, “May I?”

You can only nod weakly in response.

Your eyes flutter shut as he wraps his lips around your left nipple and flicks his thumb across your right. Your belly throbs at the sensation, and you shift in his lap. You jolt as your core presses against his groin, and a small smile tugs at your lips as you realize he is hard as a rock. You shift your hips again, rubbing against him, and you both moan in unison at the pleasure that shoots up your spines.

“Did your filthy little books teach you that?” he groans against your left breast before switching to your right.

You dig your nails sharply into his shoulders but continue grinding against him. His free hand grips your waist, setting a steady rhythm. Your hands trail down his shoulders, and you scrape your fingernails down his chest as you explore the firmness of his abdomen. Eris presses one last open-mouthed kiss to your breast before pulling off. You don’t give him a moment to catch his breath as you cup his face with your hands and pull him up, crashing your lips against his again. His taste is intoxicating, and you just can’t seem to get enough of it.

His hands snake around your waist and he grips your ass, squeezing the soft flesh and grinding you against him even harder. Your hands dip down from his abs to the band of his underwear. You lazily graze your hand along the material, dipping your fingers underneath teasingly. Just as you’re about to reach your hand inside, he firmly grips your wrist and flips your bodies once again so you are lying flat on your back.

“As much as I would love to have your hand wrapped around my cock,” Eris presses a taunting kiss to the corner of your lips, “This is all about you, Little Bird.”

You watch the rise and fall of your bare chest as he lowers himself down the length of your body. His trails open-mouthed kisses down your neck, between your breasts, until he reaches the band of your panties. You suck in a breath as his eyes flick up to yours, and his fingers toy with the lace trim.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, fighting the smile tugging at his lips.

You nod dumbly.

You yelp as he hooks his arms around your thighs and tugs you down towards the edge of the bed. He runs a hand teasingly along your leg, up to your inner thigh.

“Tell me what you want, Little Bird,” he teases as he touches every part of your exposed body, except where you need him most.

You whine and wriggle your hips, but he firmly holds you in place. He cocks a brow expectantly as he softly caresses your inner thigh.

“I want you,” you whimper, “I want you between my legs.”

Eris hums and latches his lips onto the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, sucking harshly before running his tongue along the same spot, “Here?”

Your face is flaming with embarrassment. Your core is throbbing, and you’re positive there’s a wet patch on the center of your panties. You shake your head, tears of frustration pricking at your eyes.

He nudges a thumb underneath the band of your panties, “Am I getting warmer?”

You want to kick him, but you nod your head instead obediently. He presses his thumb directly on your clit through the wet spot on your panties, and you cry out at the sensation.

“I need words, Little Bird,” he presses his thumb harder.

Your thighs are shaking, and your desperation finally betrays you as a tear slips out of the corner of your eye.

“I want you on my cunt,” your voice trembles as you speak, “I want your fingers, your mouth, your tongue, I want it all. Please.”

His eyes darken, and a vicious smile curls onto his lips as he finally yanks the flimsy material down your legs and tosses it aside. He doesn’t give you a second to process the fact that you are completely bare for him as he runs a finger through you, admiring how your wetness collects at his fingertips. You nearly cry in relief as he finally presses the pad of his thumb directly onto your clit. Pleasure shoots up your spine as he flicks his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan.

“Don’t be shy, darling. I want to hear how good I’m making you feel,” he purrs.

This time, you don’t stop the cry that bubbles in your throat as he increases the speed of his thumb and traces his other hand over your slick. He slides his middle finger over your entrance and pushes just his fingertip inside, his thumb continuously moving in a steady rhythm.

“Don’t tease. Please,” you beg, every ounce of self-respect left behind in that frigid stream.

He smirks and sinks his middle finger into you. You throw your head back with a moan as he curls it inside, pressing against a spot you had no idea even existed.

“I think you were made for me, Bird,” he mumbles as he slowly thrusts his finger inside of you, “I wish you could see the way your sweet cunt just sucks me in.”

You cover your face with the crook of your elbow to hide your embarrassment, but pull it away with a jolt as his teeth sink into your thigh; a warning.

He stops thrusting his finger, and instead curls it inside of you repeatedly, sending ripples of pleasure through your gut as he continuously stimulates that spot deep inside of you. A filthy squelching sound fills the room, but you too far past the point of self-consciousness to care.

Just as the tension starts to build in your gut, he pulls both of his hands away abruptly. You whine at the loss and look down just in time to meet his eyes as he runs his tongue in a long swipe up from your entrance to your clit. You cry out at the sensation unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. He moans against you, and the vibration makes your toes curl.

“You taste divine,” he rasps against you.

His tongue flicks against your clit, and you pant through uneven breaths. Your hands grasp at the sheets, desperately searching for something to stabilize yourself, and you throw your head back as he latches his lips over your bundle of nerves, sucking harshly. He sharply slaps your thigh and mumbles against your cunt, “Eyes on me.”

You all but melt as you glance down and meet his lust-filled gaze. His amber eyes don’t leave yours as he eats you out like a man starved. Your core continuously throbs, sending wave after wave of pleasure up your spine. You run your fingers through his crimson locks, pushing him against you even further, and he hums in approval.

You feel like you’ve been transported to another planet. And just when you think you couldn’t possibly take anymore, he runs a finger up your slit and sinks it back inside of you.

“Eris,” you mewl as he thrusts his finger while his tongue continues its ministrations against your clit.

He releases a guttural moan against you and curls his finger harshly against your spongy walls.

“Say my name again,” he murmurs against your slick before continuing, never missing a beat.

“Eris,” you moan as you feel the tension rapidly building in your groin.

“Again,” he groans, flicking his tongue even faster.

The pressure in your gut is almost too much, and you grip onto his hair for dear life as you chant his name like a mantra, “Eris, Eris, Eris.”

Which each utterance of his name, he curls his finger inside you. Your chanting is close to sobbing as the pressure builds, and builds, until the coil finally snaps.

Your vision blurs and you all but scream at the ecstasy coursing through your veins. You feel like you’re floating as waves of unbridled pleasure roll through your body, the tension in your gut finally coming to a head. Eris continues his ministrations as he rides you through your climax, until your legs spasm and your hips jolt at the hypersensitivity. He presses one last kiss to your core before slowly removing his hands. You can only watch in awe as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, licking every last drop of your slick from his hands.

Sweat beads at your forehead and your bare chest rises and falls rapidly as you come down from your high, slowly coming back to reality. His touch is gentle as he rises back up and lays beside you. You don’t protest as he pulls you into his chest and wipes away the tear trailing down your face. He presses his lips against your forehead and mumbles against you, “You did so well, darling.”

You rest your head against his chest and allow his warmth and the steady beat of his heart to calm you down. His fingers comb through your hair and scrape against your scalp in a soothing manner. You gaze shyly up at him, and find his eyes already trained on you. You wrap an arm around his chest and he pulls you closer, placing a sweet kiss on your chapped lips. You can taste yourself against him, and the thought makes you shiver. Your leg shifts between his thighs, and you can feel the hardness of his groin pressing up against you.

“What about you?” your voice is scratchy as you whisper against his lips.

Eris simply smiles down at you and presses his lips to your forehead, “Baby steps, Little Bird. Don’t worry about me—this was about you.”

Your heart melts at his words, and you can’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and fall into a comfortable silence. The waterfall sounds through the walls of the cottage in the distance like a peaceful lullaby.

“Thank you,” you whisper shyly, eyes flicking up towards his.

He wears his foxlike grin as he stares back down at you, “For what?”

Your lips graze his jaw as you speak, “For showing me all of this. For letting me be selfish.”

Amber eyes smile kindly at you, “Don’t ever thank me,” he says simply.

He continues his gentle stroking of your hair, and your eyes flutter shut as you marvel at how your body fits against his like a mold.

You should feel guilty. Guilty for betraying your family. Dirty for putting your selfish desires above your loyalty to your court. But you can’t ignore how right it feels to be wrapped up in your supposed enemy’s arms.

You know the panic will soon wash over you. But for now, you allow yourself to indulge in the marvelous incredulity of it all as you fall into a peaceful sleep to the steady beat of Eris’s heart.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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