#rise of the death fae

[pestilentbrood]

local fae is the angriest man to ever exist and this might have something to do with his mom being swampwater

[yoshua]

my hyperfixating brain is just rotating back and forth between acotar & dc. girl help. it was acotar for Many months up until the end of 2022, then dc hit me for a couple months til now, now acotar is slowly tapping back in. I guarantee I'll rotate back around to dc again after. 🛌🏼

[prythianpages]

Next to You | Azriel

Azriel x Reader | The world is ending and Azriel does all he can to be next to you.

warnings: angst, this does touch on death/dying (character deaths/reader death), end of the world, mentions of blood/injuries

word count: roughly 3,400

a/n: You can thank Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars for this lol. I was supposed to post this way earlier but I decided to rewrite some things last minute.

Death had come, manifesting in a cloud of heavy darkness. So dark it made Azriel’s shadows appear light and shiver at the sight. The darkness was rising from every crevice, every corner and a low, rumbling growl shook the earth beneath him. 

Koschei was here.

The sky began to darken, the sun being swallowed whole by the vast darkness much like the warriors at his side did. Shadows writhed and swirled around him, whispering and frantically urging him to run.

But Azriel’s eyes were still fixed on the spot where Rhysand was standing. Where Rhysand had stood.

Koschei had suddenly unleashed his wrath upon Prythian, taking each court down one by one. He saved the Night Court for last but he took its High Lord first. Feyre had stayed behind with Mor and Amren at the riverhouse to protect Nyx. Rhysand had been struck with such brutal force and swallowed by Koschei’s void of darkness so swiftly that Azriel still couldn’t believe it.

Not a single trace was left behind of his best friend, his brother, his High Lord.

Rhysand was gone. Just like that.

There was no time to grieve, no time to scream. Koschei’s men were advancing, their swords and arrows drawn and ready to continue their relentless attack. Azriel, Cassian and Nesta fought back alongside their own soldiers or what little remained of them.

It was no use. They were vastly outnumbered and no help would come as the Night Court was the last one standing. It felt as though the battle had already been lost, the sickening smirk on Koschei’s pale face sealing their fate. 

The ground buckled and split, jagged cracks tearing across the cobbled streets like veins of chaos. Trees swayed violently, their roots torn from the earth and the sounds of fae screaming rang out in the distance. All signs of life were being ripped apart at the seams.

Azriel’s gaze darted to Cassian, and an overwhelming wave of dread twisted deep in his gut. The Night Court General, usually so unbreakable, now stood battered and bloodied, his eyes void of any hope. Defeat clung to him like the grime smeared across his face. Nesta reached for his hand, their fingers threading together in silent solidarity.

A look of understanding passed between them. 

“Go,” is all Cassian said.

Azriel hesitated, his chest tightening with wild emotions. There were words burning on his tongue—words he never thought he'd have to say. But he couldn’t force them out. He didn’t need to. Cassian nodded once, his eyes conveying further understanding. A final, silent farewell. A nod that Azriel returned. 

And then he spread his wings wide, launching into the air. The wind howled against him, his shadows shuddering nervously, sensing his panic and wanting to soothe him. But they, too, could see that the end was near.

**

Azriel had never feared death.

As an Illyrian warrior and the Night Court’s spymaster, he had long prepared for it, accepted it as an inevitable part of his life. He was willing to die for his court.

But then he met you and everything changed.

Suddenly, the thought of dying filled him with terror. The fear of leaving you behind, of never being able to say goodbye. The idea of dying without feeling your touch one last time, without whispering how much he loved you. That was more frightening than any enemy he could ever face.

The words you had exchanged earlier were rushed and hurried, Koschei's attack taking everyone by surprise. He hadn’t said goodbye. He had only just enough time to promise to come back to you. 

And that’s all Azriel could think of in this moment–in what could very well be his last moments–is keeping that promise.

Smoke and dust choked the air, Koschei’s darkness thickening. He doesn’t turn around in fear for what he’d see. He kept his gaze forward, watching in distress as buildings shattered. The city of Velaris was crumbling apart around him. 

He ducked and wove through the falling stones and debris, doing his best to avoid the death arrows that seemed to be coming from every direction. His hazel eyes were sharp and focused. Even as pure fear clawed at his chest, making his heart race and hands tremble.

Your name was a prayer on his lips that manifested into a mantra of desperate hope.

The bond between you thrummed and sung madly. What once was a source of comfort was now only magnifying his fear. He could feel your terror, feel the frantic rhythm of your uneven heartbeat, echoing through the bond like a scream.

Azriel’s eyes locked on the House of Wind as it came into view, his wings straining as he pushed harder against the air. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, pushing past the protests of his muscles, the stinging of his injuries. The mountain the house was on trembled beneath the force of the quakes. His breath caught in his throat as one of the house’s spires broke away, crashing into the rocky expanse below.

He folded his wings in tight, landing hard in the courtyard, barely keeping his balance as the ground beneath him bucked and split. Cracks spidered across the stone beneath his boots, but he forced himself forward. Determination burned bright in him, every second counting. He had to find you, to be next to you.

Inside, the walls trembled, stone and dust raining from above as the ceilings began to crumble. He barreled through the halls, his destination clear. The library. He had left you there, hidden away with the priestesses and some of Valkyries, who had vowed to defend in case the attack reached them.

He thought you would be safe there. That he’d defeat Koschei and his army of death. That he’d return to his family and be able to hold his nephew, who has only had a taste of the world, in his arms again. That he’d be returning to you with the promise of tomorrow and a future where the two of you could start a family of your own. 

All those hopes and dreams were dying along with the world around him. The cruelty of fate knew no bounds. It continued to weave its harsh and bitter threads and when Azriel threw open the library doors, his heart stalled in his chest. Panic gripped him, raw and unyielding, flooding his veins like ice. So cold that he found it hard to breathe.

Because there was nothing.

No priestesses. No Valkyries. No you. 

Only darkness.

Koschei’s death magic had hit the library first. The clouds swarming below let out a hiss from the faint light that dared to creep in through the doors.  Azriel’s shadows slammed them shut, trying to hold the darkness back. The House’s energy pulsed faintly, aiding his shadows and taking over. Whatever magic remained of the House directed itself at repelling the evil force that had invaded its walls.

His shadows scattered, darting through the ruined halls, desperate to find you. But the gnawing fear clawing at his chest felt insurmountable, a type of desperation he had never known. He reached for the bond, tugging on it with everything he had. He pulled and pulled on those threads, frantically searching for any response. 

Tears stung his eyes when, at last, he felt your response.

“Please,” he rasped, his voice trembling, the word a plea torn from his soul. He didn’t know who he was begging—the shadows, the House, or the Mother herself.

His shadows moved, drawing his attention away from the door that shuddered under the pressure of Koschei’s darkness. His head snapped up as he realized where you must be.

Azriel bolted back up the stairs, his shadows scouting ahead and darting through the debris and cracks. His head began to pound and vision blurred from his injuries but he pushed on. The connection through the bond grew stronger, the tug more insistent. 

She’s safe for now. Not hurt, a shadow reported to him but he needed to confirm it for himself. Needed to see you with his own eyes, feel your presence. 

His legs trembled as he pushed forward, his lungs burning. When he finally reached the door to your shared room, he shoved it open with more force than necessary, his gaze sweeping around, wild with fear. 

And there you were.

The sight of you nearly buckled his knees. Relief washed over him in a crashing wave.  You stood on the balcony, your back turned to him, silhouetted against the dimming sky. Koschei’s creeping darkness loomed on the horizon, thick and unnatural, swallowing the sky and closing in around the House of Wind. 

The sense of relief he had felt was abruptly cut short. Time was running out.

His shadows reached you first, swirling around your feet, urging you to turn. When you did, his heart clenched painfully.

Your eyes, wide and teary, were full of fear and despair. You clutched something tightly against your chest—his cloak. Your fingers trembled as you gripped onto the fabric as if it were a lifeline.

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” your voice quivered. “I thought–I thought I wasn’t going to see you again…”

Azriel crossed the distance between you in the blink of an eye. He pulled you into his arms, wrapping you tightly against him, cradling your head to his chest. His embrace was fierce, almost desperate. Only when he buried his face in your hair, breathing in your scent, did he finally allow a few tears to slip from his eyes.

“I’m here,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. He repeated it, softer this time, as if trying to convince himself. “I’m here.”

You pulled back slightly, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. Your hands cupped his face, thumb gently wiping at his tears. When your eyes roamed over his face and then lowered, a sob tore through your body, more tears spilling from your eyes.

“You’re hurt,” you choked out, taking in the gashes and bruises marring his skin and wings, the torn leathers barely holding together. The agony in your eyes when you met his gaze once more was far more tormenting and painful than his injuries. 

Azriel shook his head, his breath ragged and labored. “It doesn’t matter.”

The world outside was falling apart—literally crumbling into darkness. Azriel was dying and every breath now tasted of bitter and agonizing defeat. He could only hope that the Mother would spare him some mercy and grant him more time so that he may go with you. 

“You’re bleeding,” you whispered, your hand reaching down to touch the blood that soaked through his leathers. It stained your hands and Azriel removed your hand from his side, placing it back onto his face, not caring over the blood that now smeared his face.

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated as if he could force the pain away with sheer will.

Because you were the only thing that mattered to him at this moment. You are his everything. His only reason to keep fighting, to keep breathing.

You let out another sob, the sound like a dagger, piercing straight through his heart. “I don’t want this to be the end,” you whispered, your words shattering him further. 

“I know, baby, ” Azriel replied. His grip on you tightened, his wings curling protectively around your frame as though he could shield you from anything, as though nothing in the world could touch you while he was near. 

He wished he could take away your pain, your fear. That there was something he could do to stop the darkness invading the world. His brows furrowed in anguish, whether from his wounds or your suffering, he couldn’t tell. He leant his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, feeling as though he failed you. As your mate, he had vowed to protect you, to shield you from harm, to always keep you safe.

“No,” you said firmly, sensing his regret and shame through the bond. 

“Azriel, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. The best partner I could’ve ever wished for. I thank the Cauldron every day for blessing me with you so” –your face tightened, the very thought of Azriel’s shame and sense of failure cutting deeply through you– “so don’t for a second think you’ve ever failed me. Not then, not now."

"I love you so, so much."

His eyes opened wide, searching yours, and there he found only love. His heart swelled with emotion, eyes filling with more tears. “I love you, too.”

And then he kissed you. One last time. The saltiness of your tears mixed into the kiss but he didn’t care. Azriel cherished every taste of you, savoring the bittersweet blend.

The harrowing sound of stone breaking and collapsing followed by more screams had you tensing and breaking apart. Azriel’s shadows circled around you both, forming a protective barrier as the world around you got darker and darker. The floor groaned and splintered beneath you and a shudder coursed through you as the air grew unbearably cold around you.

Unbridled fear and panic surged through the bond, so intense he could no longer tell where your emotions ended and his began.

“Look at me,” Azriel murmured, his voice soft but laced with a tremor, betraying the emotion he was holding back. He looked at you, his eyes tracing every feature of your face, indulging himself one more time.

Azriel’s shadows let out a hiss and your breath hitched. Koschei’s darkness had finally reached your room. But Azriel refused to let the overwhelming emotions suffocate you both, refused to let things end this way. 

 “Look at me,” Azriel said again, holding your face firmly in his hands to keep your head from turning. There was a slight tremor in his fingers as you looked back up at him, tears slipping continuously. He offered you a smile that was trembling yet still warm and comforting. “That’s it, baby. Just keep your eyes on me.”

The stone above you began to crackle and Azriel pulled you closer to him, held you tighter. “I’ve got you. In this life and the next. I will find my way back to you.” 

His eyes looked into yours, those hazel irises filled with raw vulnerability, a fierce determination. Your lips trembled as you nodded, struggling to form words past the lump in your throat. Yet, slowly, you managed a smile of your own. 

The world was ending around you, Koschei’s oppressive shadow of death looming.  He could take anything and everything he wanted. Except for this. He could never take what lived between you.

Because not even death could tear you apart, sever the thread that bound your souls.

Azriel swallowed hard, pressing his forehead to yours. His chest heaved with the effort of breathing, each inhale more shaky.  “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow,” he whispered, his words straight from the vows he made to you during your mating ceremony. 

“And wherever we go, we'll face it together, ” you breathed, the ache in your chest nearly unbearable, mirroring the one in his. Yet, beneath the weight of fear, a fragile sliver of hope flickered. 

And Azriel couldn’t help but think back to how he’d always imagined his end would come. Brave, fearless and alone. A warrior’s death. It was the way he’d been raised and trained to believe he should go. 

But this… this was something far greater. 

He found a deeper kind of bravery. The courage to love so deeply and fiercely, even at the darkest of times. To face death not with a sword, but with you in his hold and feel whole. There was something tragically beautiful in facing the end with you by his side...

A sudden chill swept through him, paralyzing him. The warmth between you two began to fade yet your gazes remained locked. Unwavering and resolute.

Was this it? The last shard of light before the darkness consumed him? The scene around him began to dissolve, your image flickering like a candle in the wind. 

The last thing he saw was your eyes before the world faded into black.

just kidding!

Azriel startles awake, eyes wide and frantic, searching through the darkness. He blinks and he realizes that it’s not completely dark, that he's in your shared room and it's warm and comforting. Moonlight trickles in, casting a soft glow on you and he feels like he can breathe again. You’re nestled in bed beside him, turned on your side and facing him. He watches as your chest rises and falls gently, features soft and peaceful.

So different from the you he had seen moments ago and a stark contrast to the way his chest is currently rising and falling. Rapidly and uneven, driven by the hammering of his heart.

It had all been just a dream. A nightmare.

A strand of hair falls across your face, and Azriel’s eyes catch the movement of a shadow. The one that much rather prefers to be by your side than his. It peaks over its hiding spot, your hair, to face Azriel.

Though his shadows don’t have eyes, he feels as if it is blinking right back at him, slowly assessing him. It gives a shudder and then, another shadow darts from the corner, stirring the rest awake. They rise from were they had been hiding and resting, rushing back to him in a heartbeat. 

Master is safe, they whisper as they brush up against his arms and wrap around him. Before he can reign them back, some of them flutter toward you, doing the same. Master’s mate is safe.

It was just a nightmare. You both are safe.

The cool caresses of Azriel’s shadows have you shifting slightly and they coil back as you blink your eyes open. Sorry, they whisper. Some of them retreat back into hiding in the corners, merging with the ordinary shadows of the room. The ones hovering at his side continue to whisper their reassurances, intent on calming and soothing their master.

“Az?” Your voice is heavy with sleep.

You begin to push yourself up and Azriel scoots closer to you, one of his wings draping over you to keep you in place. His hand reaches out for your face and he pulls you in close until your noses nearly touch.

Concern immediately flashes in your open and wide eyes as you must sense the lingering unease through the bond.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Azriel murmurs, still groggy and shaken from the remnants of his nightmare. But as he studies you—the warmth in your gaze, the absence of the fear and despair he had seen in his dream—his anxiety begins to ebb. “I am now. It was just a nightmare.”

Your brows furrow in doubt, and he brushes his thumb along them, soothing the crease. Your hand then reaches for his chest, right over where his heart is still racing and your frown deepens. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can bring you some tea.”

Though his wing remains draped over you, he hooks a leg around you for added security. “I’m okay,” he reassures you, leaning in to nuzzle against your nose. When he pulls back, he can still sense your worry so he adds: “I don’t need tea. I just need you.”

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," he breathes back almost immediately.

He covers your hand on his chest with his own, feeling his heart begin to calm with each passing moment. He then brings your hand to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to your palm before resting it against his cheek. He can feel the warmth that blooms in your chest at his touch and reciprocates the feeling through the bond.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he echoes softly.  “Now, go back to sleep.”

“You too,” you huff out, the sound of small disbelief strangely soothing to him at this moment.

Azriel grins, his tense muscles slowly easing. “You first.”

He lets out an amused exhale as you slightly roll your eyes at him, but he can tell sleep still clings to them. After one more assessing look at him, you let out a sigh and finally, close your eyes. His gaze is tender and loving as he watches you drift back to sleep, your features softening. The grin on his face eases into a contented smile when you shift even closer, instinctively seeking his warmth.

This time, the last thing he sees before closing his eyes is your peaceful face, the lines of worry smoothed away. No trace or hint of fear or panic. Only tranquility.

And as he sinks back into the embrace of sleep, he feels relaxed and secure, knowing that the promise of another tomorrow still awaits for the both of you.

a/n: Did I get y'all? Honestly, I was going to leave this without that last scene but then I thought that was too cruel so I stayed true to the song "I just woke up from a dream." I watched this scene between Cersei & Jaime from Game of Thrones so many times to help me write this because I wanted it to give the same vibes.

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith

[starcrossedmoth]

The Rat King

At some point during their lives, one or more of these fae were originally imperials. But even after a breed change, the dark, twisted effects of their origins would come to haunt them. Thus the Rat King was born. Four starved bodies that perished during a particularly harsh winter, somehow melded themselves together after being carelessly left behind by whatever band of dragons they were with.

The amalgamation then froze over and was left pristine and preserved, nothing more than a peculiar anomaly. At least, that was what everyone thought.

Finally the winter ended, and the ice thawed, and the creature's blood began to flow through their veins once again. It wreaked havoc on many small colonies of faes and veilspuns alike, and even larger breeds struggled against the tiny yet indestructible force. Finally, the Spirit Emerald Clan caught wind of what was happening, and sent their most elite trappers out after the beast. It was brought back intact, and "alive". The beast now roams a magic-proof observatory, and is being studied by the most scientifically-minded dragons of the Clan.

Do you have any dragons that are canonically deceased in your lore, (exalted or otherwise) or do you have any dragons that are ghosts?

If so, share them with the class, please.

[sarawritestories]

I Died With Her

Eris Vanserra X Fem Reader

Summary: Beron discovers your mating bond...A cruel prophecy fulfilled.

Content Warning: Death of Main Character, Murder, Unnatural cruelty, Beron's demise.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Its short and angsty...and I may be persuaded to make a part two. I also apologize if this one is not my best. I'm in a slump but this

Eris’s blood ran cold as he entered the throne room. His brothers grinning in cruel delight. His father standing in front of a throne that he did not deserve. Beron’s hand threaded through the now tangled mess of your hair. Forcing you to look your mate in the eye while your knees dug into the concrete. Tears streamed down your face as you met Eris’s russet eyes. Memorizing every sharp angle of his beautiful face, every freckle that kissed his pale skin, try to remember the feeling of his soft, thick locks through your fingertips. Memorizing the sweet scent of the fall breeze, embers with a hint of cinnamon that brought you so much comfort. Your beautiful mate, best friend, love of your life.

If only you had had more time.

Eris was staring at you as well, memorizing your sweet doe eyes, the plump curve of your lips, your smile, the warmth of your skin against his. The things he may never get a chance to encounter again, your laugh, your soft snores as you laid on his lap, the way you would scrunch your nose when reading your book, or how your body eased and relaxed simply being near him. How you were his equal in every way and how his body sang in harmony with yours. Clearing his throat he placed his cool mask on, “What is the meaning of this?”

Beron’s smirk was cruel as he yanked your hair back causing you to yelp. “I found something that belonged to you. I must say the bitch was hard to find.” Eris snarled as Beron released his grip and kicked your back, your hands and knees preventing your face from colliding with the ornate flooring. “She is yours isn’t she, Boy?”

“I would never sully myself with a common whore.” Lies, lies. The words felt like ash against his tongue. You lifted your head only slightly, and the solitary wobble of your lower lip broke his façade. Eris met his father’s gaze with fury in his russet eyes and fire roaring through his veins.

“There he is. Eris the lover.” Beron taunted pressing his foot against your back forcing you down on the cold marble and you cried out. “I didn’t raise you to be a romantic.” Beron snarled.

“You didn’t raise me at all.” Eris retorted his lip curling upward.

Beron quirked, “I should have known. Well, it’s a good thing I handled that problem already.” The High Lord of Autumn clapped his hands forcing his weight down on you causing you to whimper in pain. You reached out for Eris, only for one of the guards to intentionally step on your delicate fingers and you bit back your scream. As the guard approached with the head of Eris’ mother detached from her body.

Eris felt the bile rise from his throat at the sight and he clutched at his chest.

“Eris, I want you to listen to me.” The Lady of Autumn held her son close to her bosom. Eris, barely six, snuggled close to the warm scent of his mother. “One day, you are going to find your mate.” She smiled and tucked a loose strand of his copper red hair behind his ear and the young fae leaned into his mother’s touch. “When you do. You need to promise me to take care of them. Love them with all your heart.” She gripped his chin, “You keep them away from your father. Run far away from here.”

Eris scrunched his face, “I don’t want a mate. I want to be with you forever.” He smiled up at his mother, He tilted his head as he watched his mother’s eyes line with silver. “Mama, why are you crying?”

She pressed her soft lips against his forehead, “I just love you so much, My little flame.” Leaning her head against the top of his, “You can be with me for as long as you want.”

“Get off me!” You shrieked bring Eris to the presence, flames licking his skins as two of his brothers grabbed a hold of you to keep you in place as Beron fetched for a blade and Eris’ flames banked out. Your eyes found his once more and she mouthed “I love you.”

He mouthed those three letters back and then bolted toward his father, but not before two of his younger brothers grabbed him and forced him on his knees. Tears began to form, blurring his vision, he desperately tried to blink away to memorize every crevice of your face. “Eris,” Your voice cracked, and Eris could feel your fear and love shot down the bond to him and he felt his heart breaking. “I will see you in the next life. Being your mate has been the greatest gift the cauldron could ever have granted me.” Eris let loose a broken sob. “Promise me. You will move on. You will find reasons to smile. Love freely. Remember that I loved you.”

Eris could barely see, his breathing shallowed as the pain flooded his entire body. “I love you, Little Flame. I’m so sorry.”

You smiled, “I’m not. Being loved by you was the closest thing I would get to The Mother. If I could do it over and never change a thing.” Tears streaked your perfect face and yet being the brave female, he knew you where you straightened your posture. And the last words Eris heard, your sweet voice echoing through the throne room. “Long Live the High Lord of The Autumn Court.” Her eyes drifted to Eris as the eldest Vanserra son watched his father approach. “Eris Vanserra.”

The sword sliced through the air and Eris’s scream thundered through the entire continent. Eris’s body moved on its own, consumed by rage and grief and the numbness that came with the bond deteriorating. In the manner of thirty seconds, Eris Vanserra had lost everything…

And then he saw red.

Refusing to look at the floor, not wanting to see your head detached from your body. He refused to think about the plans he had made with you, a wedding, a family, a life of freedom, a chance to run away. Gone. At the hands of the man who was laughing with his brothers about your demise.

No one disrespects his mate.

Eris had no memory of the events that occurred when he rose to his feet, but when he was done, the entire throne room was in flames, the screams of his brothers and his father drowned by the familiar crackling sound of his flames. Letting the throne room burn, he exited out into the forest, your headless body in his arms. Eris felt nothing, the gold thread that once shined bright, fell limp and became ash. As Eris buried your body in your favorite clearing, he knew one thing was certain.

Any kindness he held in his heart died with you.

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[extremely-judgemental]

Long Post

Every time I see the ‘let my girl be happy’ tag and the post is about canon Nessian, it infuriates me as much as it breaks my heart. Sometimes I wonder if those who romanticise Cassian’s toxic behaviours are speaking from a place of privilege or ignorance, because admitting that calls for addressing real-life abuse and misogyny they are forced to endure.

I’m an Indian living in a highly patriarchal, misogynistic society where women are still required to marry someone out of convenience for the sake of their families. This is not the cute arranged marriages you read about in books or watch in movies. Most women have to sacrifice everything they stand for to ease their families’ burdens. And let’s not even start with dowry or DV. Sure, our society has progressed in many ways, yet, this is the reality of most women when it comes to marriages. No matter how well-off you are, no matter how successful you are in your career. It’s more nuanced than you imagine; parents meddle with children’s lives at every step, and our lives are more intertwined with our families than in western society. So I simply can’t read Nesta’s story and delude myself into thinking she got a happy ending with Cassian or the Inner Circle. I keep my emotions out of most of the criticisms to help people see the situation objectively. That’s hard to do in this case, but I’ll try.

Nesta is the eldest child who ‘fails’ her sisters, though it is her father’s responsibility to care for three young girls. Having been groomed to be a housewife all her life, she contributes in the only way she knows—by doing the chores and nurturing her family. She seeks help from relatives and friends, while the ones in position to do so ignore her. And when the time comes, she finds a way to be of use to her family by marrying Tomas. Despite all this, Nesta is considered a failure of a sister, simply because Feyre made a choice. Most of these only come to light in Silver Flames, and even the few instances where Feyre realises this, there’s no real appreciation for Nesta’s efforts. Instead, they are dismissed or only mentioned to highlight Feyre’s empathic tendencies and her awareness of her sisters’ plights, rather than uplifting Nesta’s character. None of these are acknowledged as they don’t fit the typical masculine ideals glorified throughout the series.

As Nesta navigates her life as a newly transformed fae, she partakes in a war in which she has no part in. She has no obligation or need to risk her life for the Night Court, or any other court, or even the mortals. These are the same acts that made Feyre a hero in the first book. But when it comes to Nesta, and she rises to the occasion, her actions are downplayed as she grapples with PTSD from her death, the Cauldron, the toll of war, and her father’s death. None of her sacrifices or her attempts to protect her sisters are given an ounce of importance or respect they deserve. Instead, it’s framed as Nesta’s duty as the eldest sister or the sister of the Night Court’s High Lady.

When she deals with her trauma, everyone takes great pleasure in controlling how the situation unfolds. She goes as far as living alone to spare her sisters. Yet Feyre and Elain, who have the choice of when and how to regulate their emotions, fail to grasp the concept of personal space. Her actions are self-sabotaging at best and have no real consequences on any of the other characters. Still, they are amplified to an extent that it’s turned into a court affair. The reason for this is Nesta isn’t coping in the right way. Gambling, drinking and sex—common activities for the Inner Circle—become a question of their reputation the moment she engages in them in her pain, emphasising that these are only acceptable when done with them. Spending Feyre’s money on gambling may seem like a reasonable cause for Rhysand to interfere, but if we factor in how Nesta’s rightful wealth from Tamlin or her father was lost as a direct consequence of Inner Circle’s actions, along with the fact that she is still owed money for her contribution in the war, Nesta is deliberately stripped of any monetary agency to trap her.

If this isn’t punishment enough, she is locked in an inescapable tower with a man she wants no part of. When she objects to this, she is lied to about their laws and threatened being thrown among people who will consider her a threat. She has no interest in training to fight or working for the Night Court, but she’s forced to. She’s not compensated for any of this labour either. Nesta is known to starve herself after the war to the point that she’s nothing but ‘skin and bones’. Cassian, an established gym bro in the series, weaponises food against her when she refuses to eat what is offered or when. The moment she shows any interest in eating, he judges her for being picky and brings up her latent guilt that led her down that path in the first place. Later on, knowing she’s not fit enough, the Inner Circle insists on training her right away, in freezing conditions, without proper clothing. Nesta soon learns that she has no choice but to comply. She goes on to train with Cassian, work in the library, and accept the food the house gives her. This is the first step in breaking her.

Nesta has no one to rely on or talk to in the house except for Cassian. The relationship that develops between them is not circumstantial but a well-orchestrated one. Even for small talk, Cassian is her only choice. After learning Nesta was SA’d by the kelpie and on the verge of death, no one (including her sisters) cares for her as much as they should. The only person who checks on her is Cassian, and even he is so overcome with desire and lust that he has sex with her instead of comforting her. It is common knowledge that sex is a coping mechanism for her and that she has been SA’d twice—something only Cassian knows. This perpetuates the idea that even when a woman is hurting and in pain, she must be appealing, and her trauma should be sexually gratifying and desirable for the man. A woman can walk back from the doors of death, but she must look pretty while doing it. There is nothing empowering about that.

Then, there is Eris’s seduction. Feyre looks down on Nesta for contemplating selling her body to take care of her sisters. But the same is expected of her when she serves the Night Court. It is almost glorified and revered by Cassian himself. During their conversation in River House, he lets her believe that she has to earn both his love and her sisters’. Not once does he contradict any of her fears or insecurities. For the first time, Nesta has sex with him without it being an escape, and the next morning, Cassian abandons her, reinforcing the idea that she indeed earned the sex and love for what she did in Court of Nightmares.

When Nesta reveals the truth about Feyre’s pregnancy, her true feelings are swept under the rug by how she ‘failed’ her sister again. She has the right to expose Rhysand and his plans. Even if the situation isn’t the most ideal, she is locked in a tower and only talks to anyone when the IC choose, which limits her options. Besides, when will the timing ever be perfect for such a conversation? She is again vilified for being the only one honest with her sister. Her intentions are twisted to cover up others’ mistakes. Cassian, once again, is the one who punishes her for it.

At this point, Nesta is suicidal, and Cassian recognises the signs. He still insists on taking the hike, also using the silent treatment to enforce the idea that she is in the wrong. His interactions with Feyre prove none of them dwell on Nesta’s actions as much as she believes. While she is having a guilt trip, edging her closer to suicide, Cassian laughs behind her back with Feyre, almost enjoying her fears. At the end of this trip, Nesta finally opens up about her trauma for the first time, and Cassian swoops in with his own sorrows and how he overcame them. Instead of making her feel seen and heard, she is once again lectured on what she should do and how.

Lastly, Cassian and Morrigan have a mildly, if not completely, inappropriate relationship that Nesta is expected to accept. If she expresses jealousy or anger, it’s not because of the bond or their relationship, but will be seen as her inherent quality. She can’t fight it as everyone else has accepted it as a normal relationship. If she shows any displeasure, her past of sleeping with other men will be brought into the conversation, and she will be scrutinised. This is very similar to the ‘men will be men’ narrative—the man can flirt with whoever he wants, and it’s harmless, but the woman has to behave.

Throughout the series, everyone is against Nesta. Her family is her responsibility. She has a duty to protect and serve them, no matter the circumstances, no matter how much it costs her or how much pain she is in. Her own sisters side with her in-laws, saying it’s how things are and she ‘doesn’t have to be so miserable’. Her life is forever bound to a man she initially wanted nothing to do with and her everyday existence is dependent on him. She is trapped with him until she learns to accept her fate. He doesn’t lay a hand on her, but he psychologically and emotionally abuses her until she complies with his family and behaves to fit their image. He even gives her the silent treatment, withdraws sex/intimacy from her, leaves her alone in the tower, cuts her off from everyone she loves and cares about if she misbehaves. She has no financial independence, leaving her at the mercy of her sister and her family. Even when she’s hurting, she has no choice but to risk her life for them or go to war when they demand. She goes as far as changing her body for her future child. Her life is threatened by her in-laws, but no one bats an eye at that, forever leaving her fearing for her safety.

If you believe it’s just fiction and that all this is exaggeration of something in a fantasy book, you really need to look around you. This is a real nightmare for most women around the world. Your girl, Nesta, isn’t happy. She settled. She has accepted a life in which she is treated less than a dog and used as a weapon. She’s been beaten down until she learnt not to step out of line if she wants to live. She is still with Cassian because she doesn’t see a life other than that as an option and has come to accept whatever scraps her sister and her family have decided to throw her way. And I sincerely hope that if you ever come across a real-life Rhysand or Cassian, you have the wits to protect yourself and run the other way.

[styxwanderer]

Fateful Encounter |

〖Twisted wonderland〗

[you are an exiled knight of king Hendrik, thrown away by your master as you had disagreed with his method of draining the mines out of magestones belonging to the fae]

TW: torture, implied sexual harrasment [by the human scums of course]

•❅──✧❅✦❅✧───❅•𓆩⟡𓆪•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

"OUCHHH that fucking hurts!"

you had no recollection of what had happened, but you suspect it was king Hendrik dirty play that had you beaten you unconciouss to wake up in a grass covered path surrounded by trees in the dead night. The Dawn knight had warned you about this. the last word you could hear was" if you are so adamant to defend those bandits then you should just go live with them." after years serving as the left hand for that ungrateful tyrannical king this is your payment?

" That jerk! Urgh...Where am i?"

you were in distress, a lady in distress, though that is broken as you decide that it is better if you had looked around and search for help than wailing in self-pity.

Not long you had seen a source of light from a distance. you decided to get closer, Afterall, it is better to die by the sword rather than starvation.

As you went closer and closer you begun to notice a hissing between the trees. You grown aware of your surroundings as you search around.

" HUMAN! state your purpose! How dare you try to sneak into our camp in the dead of the Night!! WAIT! IT"S YOU!! the left hand of that Bastard King! I shall have you dead!"

You raised both your arms up. " Bastard king, I kinda agree with that a tyrant too, well i don't mind, but first let me have some food first, won't you be so kind to give me a last meal?"

" HOW DARE YOU DEMAND FOR A MEAL! YOU---"

" hold on a second, Baur. Look at her clothes. and she is injured"

You had now became aware, you had been stripped out of your armour left with the thin materials used inside of the armour, it too had been ripped from the branches. The logo of king Hendrik kingdom too had been forcefully ripped out of your body cloth leaving a hole on your left arm. You body blotched with black and purple spots you dont doubt you lips were splited and a smear of blood is apparent below your nose. with a topping of a left black eye of course.

" Oh aren't you the general of the right?"

"ugh.. enough with the name, you are king Hendrik famous dog aren't you, state your business.. on second look... heh.. the owner had gotten tired of his dog? what happened did you bark at your master? or did you bite your master?" the general with red stripped hair taunt you.

" Haah.. I wished I had mauled him to the death, then at least he can stop his grabby hand to take whatever he wanted like a spoiled baby."

" hmm.. no that would be a real inconvenient. afterall, we fae had a fair share of grudge toward your stupid king, Human or should i say Dog."

" Okay deal.. so when can i have my meal?"

" HOW DARE YOU ASK LILIA VANROUGE FOR A MEAL?! YOU INSOLENT FOOL!"

" a meal?!?"

" Aa.. well, I rather die with food rather than dying without a last meal, so before you kill me the previous left hand dog of king Hendrik would you be so kind to give me one last meal?"

"YOU!!! ---"

" hahahaha.. you are an intresting one. alright I will grant you, your wish, afterall, I have just finished making the food come come."

"But Lilia, they are a human..."

"don't worry, its their last meal afterall. khufufufu."

"eurgh! HUMAN, WHERE IS YOUR GRATITUTE, GENERAL LILIA HAD GRACEFULLY PREPARE A MEAL FOR YOU!"

" I give thee my deepest gratitude for your never-ending kindness." you performed a half bow with your right hand towards your chest.

You are guided toward the camp as Baur the green-haired guy kept an eye on you, feeling very suspicious of your presence. Meanwhile, Lilia was leading the group.

once you are inside of his camp several soldiers are to rise and hiss at you only to be informed than you are Lilia's esteemed guest making them shocked as they continue to stare at you and your tattered uniform.

you are seated in a big log as Baur sat neck to you armed cross, frowning. You have to say that this guy is quite attractive even when he frowned. You look around the camp to find that the camp is previously owned by the silver fox.

Your attention is diverted as Lilia placed a strange green? brown? goop into a wooden plate and handed towards you.

"Here you go! eat up before I can slice you up!"

" ..... What is this?"

" HOW DARE YOU QUESTIONED SUCH THING! THIS IS LILIA SPECIALITY SOLDIER SOUP!"

" it is filled with nutrition if you must asked. its a tradition for a fae." Lilia smirked

you took a sniff at your bowl reeking of whatever foul thing on the planet, you then take a bite deciding not to be rude to the host and also it is you whom had demanded for food, you need to eat it despite it's appearance, it might be good regarding of its look just like a few dish that you had tried before.

Your mind turned blank as you froze. Once the food had enter your mouth you could feel your gag reflex acting up. Not wanting to spit it out you hold your mouth shut. You could feel your skin turning into a shade of green. your check. you forced yourself to swallow like a good girl you are.

" What is in there?!"

" hmm.. well we have lizard tail and foot, a cow's liver.."

" BLerghhhhhhhh....urp.." you try not to let the spoonful of the goop rise up your throat.

" DO YOU DARE TO OFFEND GENERAL LILIA'S COOKING??!"

You stare at this green haired guy dead in the eye, you had lost your fear for your live. " Is this seriously your traditional food? did you eat this everyday?"

" Quite human! this is very healthy! it is too very convenient!"

" That is true you know, I don't have time to do whatever gourme chef do, this is just enough to feed my troops."

" As beautifulas you faes are you are quite horrible with foods, ah how terrible, I feel so bad for your troops."

" HOW DARE YOU OFFEND GENERAL LILIA!! RAISE YOUR SWORD HUMAN!"

" If you rather die in hunger then be my guess." the general spoke.

" Haaa..." You placed the bowl on top of the log as you look around for wa mound judging by the state of the camp, the previous troop had rushed off in a hurry, there is bound to have unlooted item or burried goods around, afterall most of hendrik's troops are insufferably and idioticly selfish like their master.

"AH there it is.." You walked towards the mould as you started to dig.

" WHAT ARE YOU DOING HUMAN!!"

" Baur Let them be.."

you pulled out a big chunk of pork meat from the ground.

" ....Lilia... i didn't know meat can grow from the ground like that.. Did you human invent whatever this is?!"

" I had no recollection in history of whatever this is. it must be a new invention?"

" HAH! i wished it is, some greasy soldier just decided that they want a whole meat for themselves and hid it here. nothing special at all."

" HAH! AS EXPECTED OF YOU HUMANS! ALWAYS SO GREEDY! EVEN TO YOUR KIND, HAVE THEY NO SHAME?!"

General lilia just sighed. You walked to plants you found around as you picked few leaves and search for salt and pepper around the pouch, since there is bound to be. You started to prepare a skewered pork. Baur who was planning to interfere was stopped by Lilia as he let you do whatever you want.

" All done.." the smell of roasted meat filled the whole camp making the troop's mouth watered.

" Nutricious, convenient, and delicious! Won't you have a try." you picked a stick for yourself and one you handed in the direction of both Baur and Lilia.

" WHO WOULD WANT YOUR FOOD?! for all I know you might've put poison in it."

" Bruh.. I literally cooked right in front of you."

" Hmmm.. Then don't mind if I do.. if I found you to have put strange things into this meal I will have you chopped. we fae have sensitive tongue especially"

" geez you saw me eating this grilled meat too.. I didn't put anything alright! it would be a crime for the food itslef to have been used as a killing method. also do you really have?"

" huh?! what is that supposed to mean?"

" ah no it's just that you have been eating that good for the longest time, so i assumed your tastebuds are dead.... or something."

" Huh?! how brazen of you! it is not that bad." Lilia took the stick form your hand as he tried it.

His tongue instantly boomed with flavour, he stayed quit not wanting to admit that your food had exceeded his food and his expectation.

" not bad.."

" Is it really?"

" I had enough for your whole troops, I don't eat that much, so please have it. That greedy bastard had actually managed to hide that big chunk of meat.. i even have left over" you offered.

" Whoa.. how kind of you." Lilia said as he called on his troop who had been staring at the group for quite some time now, mouth watering.

" Baur you too have some, we will have quite a long journey after all."

" ABSOLUTELY NOT! I rather die than have a food made by humans. I am not hungry at all any way!" He huffed arms still crossing around his large chest.

Suddenly a loud roar boomed. A loud roar from the belly of the green haired soldier

Silence ensue as a hue of pink started to appear on his cheek.

" PFFFTTT... "

You cannot hold your laughter any longer as you laugh out loud. Lilia follows.

" you are hungry right?, have some come one."

" No way!"

You then have a good idea, " Fine! then i can have your portion!!! thank you for the extra food!"

" YOU.. YOU GREEDY LITTLE DOG! fine i will have it! MOVE!"

You laugh as you shoved the skewered pork to his mouth rendering him speechless and you laughing,

" Whose the dog now" you mischievously taunt.

The meat is ripped forcefully from his mouth as he chewed aggressively, " Just watch your back human! I will tear you to death!" he screamed still mouthful as you just chuckled.

" You are quite an interesting human, it's been so long since I had this much fun, rather than have you die, why don't you become our personal cook from no on? he chuckled.

" HUH me?"

" ABSOLUTELY NOT! Lilia!! but she is a human! What if she is sent as a spy for our troops?"

" Then I assign you to keep a close eye on her, simple."

" BUt --- eugh.. Yes, General Lilia."

and from then on your life from a left hand dog of the king had shift and roll and become the personal chef of General Lilia troop, the bane of King Hendrik troops. you had quite enjoyed your new role to be honest, the days are spent with teasing the stiff green haired guy. You had gotten quite close to him as he grew less weary of you overtime. even when he speak so harshly you had realized that Baur had actually cared for you and his troop. especially after that incident.

"OUCHH!" you had managed to trip yourself over a poking branch spraining your ankle.

" Y/N! What happened?!"

" ah it's just i didn't see that branch peeking out.."

" HUMAN! how pathetic a previous knight could go?! tripping over a measly branch?! "

" Hey its covered with leaves I cannot see them."

" HA.. What am I to do with you come!." He crouched down in front of you positioning himself. you are frozen shocked of course.

" HUMAN DONT MAKE ME WAIT!"

" o.. alright..." you are being carried by Baur in piggyback as he lead you back to camp earning a snicker from Lillia of course.

ever since then you had tried your best to show your gratitude towards him by giving him more meat or more food on his portion, when he commented that you are wasting the troops food on him you pushed through convincing him that he needed to have more food fae to reasons that is never disclose of course, a pride of a woman wont ever reveals her secrets Afterall.

You are unaware of the shade of pink that decorated the crocodile man's face. At the end of the day, He too got his own secrets to keep.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

On a normal evening you had found Lilia struggling to apply the wound on his back from the previous clash with the iron clad. You decided to step in.

" Lilia I am coming in." you said as you enter the camp.

"H-hey, What is the meaning of this? i never agreed for you to enter. have you been stalking me?" his top is still on the side and he struggles with the bandage.

" Hahaha what if I am? anyway, please let me address those wounds."

" Haah? as if I need help from a ---"

"Hey I told you I don't need help!" the head strong stubborn fae huffed.

But of course, you hadn't listened taking the bandage out of his hand you grabbed an ointment, smearing it onto his back before wrapping the wound with the bandage.

"All down." he then turned towards you as he pushed you back towards the wooden cart, your escape route blocked. both hands placed on the both side of your face in a kabedon manner. is this how you die? well at least you died in an honorable way.

" How brazen of you? do you know what i can do to you? a man without his shirt to a defenseless little girl."

" huh.. beat me? either way you need to address that wound properly or it will get horribly infected Also i am not a defenseless little girl i got teeth to bite don't i?" you Feigh ignorance.

"Haa.. sometimes I wonder how you managed to reach this age, you got 0 survival skills."

" Hahaha luck I guess?" you shrugged.

Lilia chuckled as he let you go. He was a bat fae, he was always the babysitter, the one taking care of, so it surprised him so when you had taken care of him in return. He then turned around to leave you.

" From now on, I will come to you if I had any other wound, so you better be ready at all time, human." he looked back at you smirking before he left the camp. a tint of red are shading his tipped ears.

" Yes sireee."

You had become Lilia's personal medic, though to his annoyance sometimes you had also assisted other fae in his troop and Baur. making him all annoyed, " her hands should only touch my bare body." Unaware of his feelings.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

The winter is coming, the lake had started to froze. Your tattered fabric uniform had little help to keep you from the cold, but of course, you do not dare to tell a single soul. what would be of you if you had complained you were too cold. All the soldier's clothes are too big on you anyway and you do not want to burden your companion with your unnecessary complains, they got pesky people to remove from harvesting the mountain dry afterall. So you push trough.

Until in the dead end of winter you had woken up shivering as your body shake and teeth clatter. The fire was flickering from the wind and do little to keep you warm, You decided to just take a run to warm yourself up. Before you can properly stand up a large hand had gripped your arm.

" Where do you think you are going y/n" his deep morning voice rang through, thankfully not as loud as his normal voice is.

" Oh me,,, I am going for a run.."

" Hoo... so you are running away?"

" NO.. I was just... warming myself up."

" Is that so.." Baur sit up and pull you back to the ground making you sit still, he pulled and extra uniform as he throws it at you.

" wear that before i changed my mind."

" OHH really?! Thank you so much!" you quickly wear the large piece of garments.

" then I will be going back to sleep." you got back to lay down.

" alright." he scoot over next to your horizontal body.

" uhm..."

" i figured a close body contact would make the hat to circulate around, it would make the both of us warmer, Dont think of futile stuff human! This is just a soldier conduct to take care of each other!."

" Yes and warm each other hohoho."

Unbeknowst to you two, Lilia who had slept in front of you both had been awakened by the shuffling as he saw the scene in front of him. Chucking to himself at the turn of event. Of course, he was going to stalk you if had went on that run and maybe force you down on the ground as he demanded your purpose on running away, but Baur had managed to caught you before he do. He felt upset but at the same time relief because you are now stuck between his fingers unable to leave him or his troop.

" ah to leave me out! such a sad guy I am. I too am very cold." he decided to break.

" Lilia you could join too.." you chuckled

"well don't mind if i do."

Baur huffed as he lay next to you, arm wrapped around your smaller body as you curled into his embrace, with Lilia on your other side spooning you, you are thanking God because not only could you sleep warmly at night you too got to be in the embrace of the hot crocodile man and the bat fae.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

It was a normal day, as you enjoyed your taunts and conversation with your fellow troops, you had been accepted by the troops as their personal chefs, sometimes they even made a request of course not within the ears of Baur since he will give them an earful for being fussy and troubling you though he would never admit. You too had exchange your skill to Lilia and Baur, exchanging tactics with Lilia as you teach them the human way and them the Fae way.

The both of them had found out why you had been exiled to the wilderness, they felt enrage as to what they had done to their dog whomst had just choose to speak their opinion, even in Briar Valley, their princess is not as henious as to not let her subordinate speak their different opinion.

Both are enraged of the previous living conditions. You had been born by a prostitute and were taken to be raised as a soldier, you had managed to rise up to the king's left hand with your own strength and determination and hence your treatment is worse than that of a dog especially with the king himself treating you like his dog. You had told them that sometimes you were summoned to his chambers at night despite having a wife, though you had managed to escape or gain assistance with the kind golden haired man as he covered for you.

That story had enraged the faes, how dare those people had regarded you so lowly despite your achievements, it is simply digusting. How dare those people who are far than worthy of your presence with and a power far lesser than yours decide to grope you and mistreat you. You are a knight, always second to the Knight of dawn, Although you explained that the Knight and his father had been the only person to show kindness towards you no matter the origin of your birth. You had thought of leaving, but they had given you comfortable place to sleep and food, there is fate much worse you thought. The whole conversation had made you wonder of how the knight of dawn is doing with his duty, you hoped your brother well.

Both, Lilia and Baur, had shared a deepen felling towards you, a determined brave girl. You had managed to snuggle yourself comfortable in their hearts. So you have to worry no longer for mistreatment, The fae had deemed themselves your new owner and will treat you accordingly, such a good dog is meant to be showered in praise and gold, not thrown with a rock. Such a rare find you are, an interesting human girl, a gem. The king had let his most precious gem slipped out of his pocket and faes are quite attracted to shiny objects, the king wouldn't mind you them stealing this one will he? Afterall, he had stolen many of their magestones.

Baur surprised you with his patching skill as he sews the holes of your uniform and made them more presentable, he had done that once he found you removing the extra clothe the given you in the morning. When he enquired why you had told him that the clothe are too big and it would hinder your movement. He agreed with your point, but he would not let you dress in tattered uniform for the rest of the journey, so he had you hand over your uniform and changed into his oversized one while he patch your onesie uniformed up. He insisted you keep the cloth of course in case you had felt cold.

Lilia had sometimes assisted you with cooking as well, although it had ended with you pushing him away from the pot so as to not let him put any wierd ingredients into the pot. though you had enjoyed your time cooking as he told you tales of his adventure and his childhood. In return you told him of your past, and goals in life, you had list of stuff you wanted to try such as walking in a garden full of flowers and not those who are filled made from metal. You had shared your distaste with Lilia over their destructive inventions.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

"IRON CLADS!!"

You had gone through your chores and food prep before you heard a shrill of high-pitched hiss. A fae soldier had shouted warning the camp over an incoming siege. you hurriedly abandoned your station picking up a spear given to you to defend yourself. you looked around to see Lilia and Baur now already on their mask as they ordered the troops around as they fought Hendrik's man. In a distance you could see one of the ironclads sneaking up on the crocodile masked guy, preparing to take a blow straight toward the unsuspecting crocodile.

" BAUR! LOOK OUT!" you had shoved Baur's body with yours, pushing him out of the path of danger. only for the danger to be directed to you.

"URGH!" you hurl as you your torso had taken a strong blow, knocking you down as you writhe on the ground.

"Y/N! HOW DARE YOU!" he quickly went after the perpetrator as they ran away, having failed their mission.

"Y/N!" Lilia wanted to check on you but he was preoccupied with his own fights.

More and more iron clads keeps coming by. they are throwing nets to unsuspecting fae or injured ones, You could hear Lilia telling the troop to retreat, Baur trying to get to you but unabled to as you feel a net had wrapped around you as well dragging you closer to the iron clad.

" Y/N!!!" both are trying to get to you defeating the ironclads in his way, but it is for naught as you were pulled towards the troop, they were outnumbered. They watch in desperation as they saw your injured and immobilized body being dragged, helpless to your own fate. and unable to help you, even when you had helped them.

"Hey isn't this the previous left hand knight?! The dog knight?"

" i had thought they died when she ran away from the castle?!"

'Run away? whatt ??' you thought unable to speak.

" she must've sold her body to those fae that must be why she is still alive."

" What a true bitch... must be nice to be able to use her body Hahahaha. We should take this traitorous bitch back of course, we might get a huge sum."

' no...' your consciousness fades as you no matter how you tried to wake up.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

The room was dark and cold, you could feel your hand chained to your back. both your feet and been chained down at the ankle, both with a medium lenght chain connecting to the ground, enabling you to do just a few motion but on the ground nonetheless. You had been put in the castle's dungeon.

" click" the door had opened as you saw both the king and knight of dawn entered. Seeing your frail battered body the knight could only clenched as the king sneered in amusement.

" HO.. so the unfaithful dog had come back to it's owner." He sneered.

Both you and the knight had known that his words are full of bull, you are the one that had been exiled. though you are unable to speak, to tired to even lift a finger.

"ANSWER WHEN YOU ARE SPOKEN TOO!" the king throw a fit as he begun to kick you, stomping on you over and over again, pressing the purple wound on your body.

"Sire.. please, you do need to waste an energy for this one" the knight's eye widened as he tried to find a way to save you from your faith. Ah he is stil as you remembered him to be kind. how kind of you.. brother.

" I would have had away with your body, but unfortunately ofr you, those fae might have left some disease on you, such a shame. Your fair skin are no more, How is it being a toy for those bandits?" he went to grab you by the jaw forcing you to look at him, you are wincing as his grip is crushing your bone.

" But thanks to that, she might have a few information of the fae and their strategy, we should take it out from their mouth, you stil have some use afterall, GUARDS! if i am unable to use your body, then i might as well see it flogged, HAhahahha."

you had been set to be flogged until you had given them any information about the fae. But one thing the king is mistaken about; is that you are a true loyal dog. You would've rather die than to give any information to the king. Their kind had shown you the most kindness and respect towards you than your own. You could see the knight tried to reason with the king to no avail, the stubborn fool is too full of himself afterall.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

It was shameful, to have your uniform thorn at the hands of the knight of dawn in command of the inspecting king. Your scarred back, a memories to your past, were shown to both of them as they begun to carve one after the other,

' Just like old times, you tried to remind yourself. You had been an orphan and a homeless, flogged daily to feed those who share the same fate as you and for yourself. Your skill had been recognized by the father of the knight of dawn, whom had trained you along with his son, Your bond is thicker than those of aristocrat siblings, having been adopted by his father you are technically his sister and he your brother. He was always concerned about you and disapproved the discrimination against you for your origins. He tried his best to dispel these acts but what can one person do? He cannot change other people mind as long as the king himself had treated you as if you are a prostitute, He was furious on his own incompetent, what kind of brother is he, unable to save you from such fate.

He was heartbroken when the new of your disappearance spread, leading to him found out about what the king had done. It sickens him that he had to serve a dirty king such as he, but it hurts his heart more to see you trying to hold in your wailings as you slowly break.

Your eyes had grown to those of a lifeless corpse as you bite your tongue bloody as to not give the satisfaction to the Idiot king.

"Hurry and tell me what they are planning their strategies!" The king who had grown impatient stomp over to your side pulling you by your hair.

You spit a mix of your blood and saliva on to his face, eyebrows furrowed. You would rather die than to sell out your friends like that.

" You bitch ! have it your way! guard bring in the iron rod!"

Your torture was far from over, the night is going to be long for you and your brother who are forced to watch as he watches your face contorted, screeching in pain from the hot iron burning your flesh.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

"Urkk!."

" please my dear y/n, please drink this, it is a healing remedies."

You had lost consciousness as the third iron pressed against your skin burrning your flesh away. you felt a liquid vial being pressed towards your mouth. You frail awake as you tried to get away from the perpetrator like a scared dog.

" Shhh.. Shhh.. it's me.. your brother... please.. i will never harm you."

He went to hug your bruised body, careful with your injuries. Your body laxed as you limped into his hug. you could feel his body trembling as drips of tear fall unto your bare shoulder.

" I am sorry... I am so sorry, dear sister..." he cried. you wished you could pat him on his back but your hands are chained and you are too tired.

" brother.. Please,.... it is not your fault..." you tried to croak out words after word, as to deliver your message.

" I am unable to protect you, it is a duty as your brother, and i have failed... i am sorry.."

He had brought you warm food and the vial of healing potion and had placed your head into his lap as he smeared an ointment to your bruised. Patting your head in reassurance. The two of you conversed just like old time, catching up, afterall it had been months since you last seen your brother. it was nice

" it is time for me to go, dear sister, i was requested to accompany Lady rose this afternoon." he gently lift your head and placed them down on the ground.

With one last look , his heart clenched once more seeing your worn out and battered body. " I will see you tommorow same time. please stay strong sister."

and you are once more alone in the cell.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Days turns to week, and week turned to two, as everything had been a blur to you since you had fade in and out of your consciousness, King Hendrik is relentless, no matter how much your brother had begged, he would come to see you with your brother of the torture he had command his guards to do to you. but no matter how many time he flogged you, how many minutes you are under the water, no matter the beatings that came after and how many hot metal rod being pressed onto your flesh, you had refused to relay any information to the Spoiled king.

Your brother had begged you at, some points,to just let him know whatever he wants to know, but you ignored him, much to his concern and headaches.

You had grown to wish for your death as you refused the vial your brother gives you, begging for him to just let you be, he would have none of your nonsensical blabber of course forcing the vial down your throat. But over time he too had started to think if what he is doing is for himself or yours, beating himself for not being able to help you at all.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

"My king!"

In the dead evening during one of your torture time, a soldier came barging in and whispered something to the king.

" WHAT?!! Knight you come with me! And you continue to pry information out of her, if she still had refused by dawn, cut of her tongue and present her severed head to me, a dog's head might work as a decoration." much to your brother's distressed as he stares as you with concern filling his eyes as to communicate with you before leaving, begrudgingly to follow the king.

You tried to listen to your surrounding to figured out what is happening, but all for naught as all is drowned by your screaming voice. The guards had continued to mercilessly torture your body with the metal iron, sometimes deciding to beat your body with the hot piping iron instead of just pressing it onto your exposed skin.

Is this how you will die? you haven't finished your goal yet, you haven't told Lilia how you love his kindness and that you are grateful of the day he had allowed you to join his camp, You haven't told Baur on how much you loved his passion for justice and reciprocate his kindness towards you, As bad as it sounds both of the fae had found a place in your heart as well, but it is bound to never make its way to the light of day as you were about to die. The thought had riddled your thought throughout your torture, tear stinging your eyes both from the pain and your thoughts. You could see the dusk revel into dawn, as the sun slowly raised up from its hiding place.

you had surrendered yourself to death and had chosen to die in an honorable way. If they are going to kill me then i would rather go down with my pride rather than begged for my life.

"Heh, would you look at the time, such as sad time for you, it's time to get that fiesty tongue of yours chopped of hahaha." he taunts as he grabbed a tonsil to pry your tongue from the cave of your mouth, it hurts.

he raised his knife up high as to chop your tongue.

Ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts..

You brace for the impact as you clenched your eyes shut..

But it never came..

"Y/N!!"

you saw a flash of green as you felt the knife dropped as the head of the guards too roll on the ground letting you tongue go from the tonsil. Confussing you, eyes wideded, you tried to move your head but you are unable to as you are too tired so you fall immobilized to the ground.

You felt a hand reach under your head gently lifting you up and turning you around to face him. His normally stern eyes grew teary as he cradles you in him arm placing his head to your shoulder.

"Lilia..?"

" They will pay for what they did. I will make sure of it. They will pay a hundredth times over!" His hand now cupped your face gently, snapped his watery eyes turn deadly as he furrowed his eyebrows. his expression riddled with anger as he turned to slashed the chains bounding your hands and feet using his magearm before he princess carry your bruised and weak body in his arms, resting your had to his shoulder. The smell of a burning fleash assulting his nostrils

" STOP RIGHT THER--" the poor guards were chopped into pieces by the merciless fae and his last bit of patience towards humanity has left his own soul.

The fate was shared to many other soldier standing on his way until you had felt the breeze of the dawn, finally out of your confinement after many days. You took a deep breath.

Baur upon seeing the two of you rushed towards Lilia and upon closer inspection he saw the extent of your injuries. the boisterous man had left speechless and in shock as he too become riddled with rage.

"How.. dare them.. HOw dare theyyy!!! this kingdom is out to be blown to dust! this is Unforgivable!"

He gently went over you as to inspect, Lilia handing you towards Baur. grunting as your tattered back is moved around.

" It's time for us to go home now." Lilia who had caress your cheek once more turned to grab his large magearm and readied himself to plunge to bawttle once more, making way for hima dn his troop to go as he had claimed back his prize, his gem.

The king having heard of the news forced more guards to secure around the castle to prevent you from escaping. Your brother wished you a safe journey as he thanked the fae silently in hid breathe, feeling tears of relief starting to water his eyes behind this mask.

Baur tried as gently as he could not to cause further harm as he cradled you, tears were threatening to spill from his teary eyes. But he shall do that later once you are safe and secured, now he needs to focus on bringing you to a safe place and maintainning you alive.

The blood lost had made you drowsy as you surrender yourself to the Crocodile fae's embrace.

" c'mon y/n Hold on a bit longer, we are near.."

" Pleasee.. don't sleep now. DONT YOU DARE FALL ASLEEP HUMAN!!"

His tears are flowing freely as he fastened his pace towards the camp before your weak body had grown still. He is now filled with rage and concern so does lilia as they make haste towards the camp to give you emergency medic care, They had given you emergency first aid, but they could only work as much as they could.

Your eyes are growing heavy and heavier.

" Lilia! we must make haste!!" he raced through the forest faster than he had ever ran, The Other fae had also catch up.

"Y/N STAY AWAKW! AS YOUR COMMANDER I COMMAND YOU TO STAY AWAKE!"

" y/n.."

"Y/NN!!!"

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

The birds are chirping loudly as the drip of the waterfall is loud and clear.

A ray of light assaulting your eyes as you pried them open. On your right you had seen the tired bat fae sleeping soundfully beside you, and to your right the green-haired crocodile man fusing and sorting out ingredients, You had seen the blood-soaked towel in the watter filled bowl beside you. You saw your body had been covered by bandages as you are wearing an unfamiliar clothes. you shuffled around.

The green-haired man was alerted as he rushed to your side abandoning his previous job.

"Y/N!!! Lilia!! Y/n had woken up!!."

"y/n.. Y/N!." Lilia was startled awake.

you tried to sit down but their hands had swiftly prop you back down. Baur handing a glass of water to Lilia as he feed you gently.

feeling no longer parched you spoke.

"How long have i been asleep?"

" around a week."

" A week?! no wonder i was so thirsty you licked your lips."

Lilia sigh " Do you know how worried i am? must you come tattered everytime i meet you? and whats with your nonchalant attitude?"

" DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH LILIA AND I ARE CONCERNED ABOUT YOU! WE LOOK AFTER YOU DAY AND NIGHT AND YET... and yet you wouldn't wake up..." The green haired guy seems to abandoned his strict personality as his eyes watered, Cradling you into his embrace once more.

" We thought we had lost you..." he cried.

" im sorry." you placed your hands as you rubbed his back, Lilia too joined the hug, He might seem calm and uncaring but with how much grip he had on you, you thought otherwise.

" Geez how troublesome this pet is, i should get you a collar so you don't jump into danger on the first sight of it."

" MIGHT BE FOR THE BEST."

"ahahaha.. i'm sorry." you to had felt tears falling from your eyes as you clung to them. Of course you do not know how serious Lilia is with his previous comment. You had missed this. You thank whatever diety is there that had allow your fate to rekindle with your friend, Enabing you to experience this once more.

" I am home."

" welcome home"

"Welcome home.."

[6885 words]

<< The End >>

[ i made this because bruv the hotness and handsomeness of Sebek's grandpapa and lilia younger days are freaking blinding me and playing with my heaed!! EVEN TO MY FUCKING DREAMSS HAA?! also this is also for those who had the same resentment towards their shitty boss or those who had mistreated you, Let General lilia and Baur zigvolt nurse you back and be the cure towards that rage and depression. hope you enjoy this one, darlings!]

( :̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:𓆩♡𓆪:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

[ Here a bandage just for you]

[readychilledwine]

Somnophilia

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

Somnophilia, or the Sleeping Beauty Syndrome, is the interest or sexual arousal in the idea of having sex with a Sleeping partner. Somnophilia is considered a predatory type of kink or paraphilia. Somnophilia is a pretty interesting kink/paraphilia psychology is still studying.

Some people enjoy it due to the power they feel when their partner wakes up, surprised by pleasure. These partnerships typically have prediscussed consent. Some people enjoy it because they have total power in the situation and have expressed frustration when their partner wakes up. Some people who expressed frustration also referenced using sleeping medication on their partner to prevent them from waking leading psychologists down darker path while studying this kink.

There's a lot of gross things we could get into when discussing somnophilia, but I'll be honest, I'm not interested in discussing the darker side of the kink world on this one. I'm just interested in you all getting to read about Rhys helping reader's delicious dreams come true.

💕Peep the Valentines Day List Here💕

As always, NSFW below the cut

Rhysand x Reader

Warnings - mentions of alcohol, reader is asleep (which should be given), Rhys using his powers over the mind for a little bit

Rhys hated long nights away from you.

He hated being trapped in a room with 7 other egotistical males, no advisers involved, trying to talk through issues between them all that had happened years ago while the highest of the Priestesses sat and mediated.

There were times when that poor female needed, no deserved, a drink more than he felt he did, but he knew this was for the fae they all looked after. One united front. A united realm. A goal Rhysand had dreamed of since he was a boy, a goal made possible with the death of Beron and Eris's rise. Now the last hitch was he and Tamlin. And Gods did having to air their dirty laundry to every High Lord piss him off.

He finished the last bit of his wine, annoyed as he held the empty bottle in his hand. It was then a dance of something came across the bond. Something so faint he knew you were projecting it in your sleep, but it had his attention nonetheless.

Rhys went up the stairs, entering your shared chambers as quietly as he could. He was greeted by the soft whisper of his name ringing in his ears like the melody of a siren's spell.

There, laying in the bed that until recently he slept alone in, was you with your head buried into his pillow. He could tell by the half empty wine glass and the book on the bed, you had drifted off to sleep suddenly. He approached slowly, studying the silk and lace nightgown adorning your body as he took off his own clothing.

It was then that it hit him, another soft moan of his name as your legs shifted, rubbing together before subconsciously falling slightly apart, exposing your glistening core to him. The scent of your arousal flooded his nose, intoxicating him as he crawled on top of you, holding your mind in that blissful dreamy state.

His cock twitched as he stared at your wet folds, at your cunt just squeezing around nothing. You looked so peaceful, so happy, so submissive and usable. He held your mind a little tighter, waiting until you moaned again to shift you and place one of your legs on his hips.

He ran his cock through your folds, biting his lip to hold back a moan at the wetness and warmth that greeted him. Rhysand then tool a breath, centering himself before entering you slowly inch by inch. Your lips fell open into the perfect o, breath stilled, a more desperate whimper left your mouth as he began to move in and out of you.

Rhysand had not felt control like this in years. He cherished every deep plunge, every drag of him against your soft walls. He cherished the way your breath was hitching, moans falling more spurring him on.

He could feel your mind starting to fight to wake up as he dragged down the night gown and exposed your breasts to himself. Your peaked nipples were like a treat just sitting and waiting, aching for his mouth and hands.

He didn't have time for that right now, though. You were on the brink of orgasm. He felt every sped up pulse of you, every wiggle. He released your mind right as your core tightened. You woke up barreling through an orgasm, hips lifting as your leg wrapped around a body.

You realized it was Rhysand slowly, a smirk playing on your lips as he took the nod you gave him as permission. His rough hands moved to your ass, gripping the plush flesh there, and he began pounding.

Each thrust was so hard, so deep, you had to put a hand on the headboard to stop yourself from being slammed into it. Rhysand's eyes had squeezed shut, and his head had fallen back between his shoulder blades. Two large wings littered with scars appeared behind his back as he began to growl in pleasure. They flared wide in dominance as you screamed for him, falling off the edge quickly for a second time.

"Gods, yes!" Your back arched off the bed as you gripped the satin sheets in your hands. "Fucking use me, Rhys. Feels so good, baby. So fucking good."

He growled again, moaning your name in response. "Almost there," he ground out. "Tell me where, darling."

"Inside me," the answer was so desperate. You were so close to that third orgasm. "Need you to fill me. Been so long."

Too damn long, Rhys said to himself mentally. He felt you begin pulsing again, a whine of his name leaving your throat, and it ripped him over the edge. The windows and house shook as he roared, spilling so deeply into you that you would leak his seed for weeks.

Rhys collapsed into you, chest heaving in time with yours as he buried into your breasts. "I-" He began, blinking as he realized what he had done, the line he potentially crossed. "I do not know what came over me."

You hushed him, bringing his lips to yours with a smile. "You just needed some control, Rhys. It's okay. I'm always happy to oblige my High Lord."

He rolled off of you, taking your nightgown with him, and began pulling you under the covers, snuggling deep into you. "Let's sleep, y/n."

"Of course," you reached up, kissing him deeply again. "Just don't be surprised when I wake you up with my lips wrapped around you."

Rhysand's eyes snapped open, looking down at you. "You beautiful wicked little creature. There are no words for how deeply I love that dirty mind of yours."He leaned down to kiss you.

"I love you too, my handsome, intelligent, and powerful mate. Goodnight, Rhysand."

"Goodnight, y/n Darling. I'll be looking for you in my dreams."

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

Rhys taglist:

@tothestarsandwhateverend @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avajustreads

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads

@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger

[thatbloodymuggle]

MASTERMIND

PROLOGUE

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: 1k

SERIES MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: none for now

The Night Court was home to Prythian’s oldest and darkest secrets. Perhaps it was the rippling terror of the Court of Nightmares, or the nightfall darker than any other region, that granted it the ability to house so many enigmas. However, from the city of Velaris to the Ouroboros, each secret had its expiration date. As the old saying goes, there are no secrets that time does not reveal—and in an immortal world, time was a fickle thing. But few knew of the Night Court’s best kept secret.

She was the bastard child of Keir, the Steward of Hewn City, and Marjorie, a high fae librarian of the Day Court. Born from an unwilling affair between the two immortals, she was kept hidden from her father. For nearly two decades, Marjorie used every last drop of her powers to conceal her pregnancy and her child. The Day Court faerie knew that if her abuser ever gained knowledge of his child’s existence, it would be a death sentence. Marjorie raised her daughter alone. She grew up concealed among the infinite bookshelves of the Day Court’s libraries. She learned to read before she could walk, and speak in ancient tongues at the ripe age of five. Despite her haunting ability to sink into the shadows, a gift bestowed upon her by her ignorant father, she was a child of the Day Court, through and through. It wasn’t her spell-cleaving ability or the tendrils of light she could summon at her fingertips that made her a child of the Day; rather, it was her thirst for knowledge and sharp intelligence that even the Cauldron itself marveled. 

Morrigan, the third in command of the Night Court, was the first to find her. As the threat of Amarantha’s rise dispersed through the courts of Prythian, Marjorie knew she had to act quickly. Driven by the fear of her precious child landing in the hands of Kier, the librarian wrote to the only family she trusted to keep her daughter out of harm’s way. Despite the shock of her half-sister’s existence, Morrigan acted without hesitation. The third in command took her sister to the safety of Velaris without hesitation. Marjorie promised her weeping daughter that she would one day return; that they would meet again when all evil had been righted. But she knew. She knew in her heart that it would be the last time she would see her mother. Despite the terror that Amarantha’s invasion instilled in Marjorie, she died peacefully knowing that her pride and joy was out of evil’s grasp.

The inner circle of the Night Court was the next to learn of her existence. They were at first wary, due to the threat of war growing through Prythian. But the doe eyes identical to Morrigan’s were a window into the goodness of her soul. Rhysand didn’t need to tap into the cobblestone barriers of her mind to see her striking erudition, sharp tongue, and despite its intricacies, her pure heart. But time, in all its futility, was against him. As he travelled to Under the Mountain, where he would remain for the next half-century, she found solace in the library of Velaris. Although not as vast as her once home in the Day Court, she valued the wealth of literature and treated it with a level of admiration Clotho hadn’t witnessed in centuries.

When she wasn’t browsing through the rows and rows of titles, she found herself growing close with the other members of the Night Court’s inner circle. Amren took a liking to her quick wit. Azriel found himself drawn to the gentle curiosity, rather than fear, that graced her features when she first studied his scarred hands. Cassian admired the unrelenting fearlessness she carried from fickle debates to the training ring. And Morrigan found a piece of her heart she hadn’t known was missing since the day her father dropped her at the borders of the Forest House in the Autumn Court. She had found her sister. A sister not only bound to her by choice, but by blood. Through the constant fear of Rhysand’s absence and Amarantha’s rule, she was the silver lining; the flickering flame that wouldn’t go out, no matter how hard the winds of evil blew. 

Nearly a decade into her stay in Velaris, she began to grow restless. She had spent the first twenty years of her existence cooped up in the libraries of the Day Court. She appreciated the change of scenery that Velaris brought. But there was an incessant itch in the back of her brain she could not scratch. She had read thousands of books detailing the histories, landscapes, and people of Prythian. Yet she had never set foot into the vast world surrounding her. She was a caged bird, yearning to stretch her wings. So, she concocted a plan. Rhysand’s last ditch effort to keep Velaris safe only forced his inner circle to remain within the limits of the city.

She became Athena Ellesmere: a merchant and cartographer’s daughter, sent to each court to engage in tradings and research the vast lands and seas of Prythian. She forged relationships with citizens of each court—farmers, vendors, lower-level employees of the High Lords. She gathered intel on the inner-workings of each court, the sentiment of its people, and the status of Amarantha’s cruel grasp. She became an asset to the Night Court during the queen’s rule of terror. Upon Rhysand’s return decades later, she was officially inducted into his inner circle as the Liaison of the Night Court. During the war against Hybern, her role as a liaison was critical for reaching parts of Prythian the Spymaster’s shadows could not through conversation. Her fluency in literature and ancient tongues was invaluable in helping Amren crack the code of the book. Her allegiance to those who had saved her from certain doom at the hands of her father was unwavering. And when the famed Archeron sisters took residence in Velaris, she vowed to protect them as her Night Court family had protected her.

To Prythian, she was a merchant and cartographer’s daughter. To the inner circle, she was their best kept secret. But as the old saying goes, there are no secrets that time does not reveal.

[sapphoherselz]

howdy!! two literal people have asked for some andreil rec so here they are!! my most favest fics EVER in the first 60 ao3 pages (I'll keep updating tho as I read!)

Not yours to bleed:

The Pros were never in the cards. Not for an ex-medicated alleged psychotic with a dysfunctional family and an Exy career he’d rather not have. But even if it wasn't his first choice, no matter what happens, it can’t possibly be worse than that one fucked up sophomore year when he stood toe to toe with the Yakuza-and won.

At least, that’s what Andrew thinks until a familiar face shows up.

Another Raven!Neil AU. Or, the one where the boys don’t meet until the Pros.

 

**Updates every other Wednesday, whatever hell may come.**

The Sun Still Rises:

Somewhere on the road, Mary Hatford gets pregnant with her second child. When she passes, she leaves behind not only Neil, but his toddler brother. Survival is difficult without also raising a kid. Worn out and desperate, Neil still somehow ends up at Palmetto, only this time, he brings his four-year-old brother with him.

TALE OF A MARTYR IN XII PARTS:

Neil closes his eyes and counts the things that he knows:

One: Death has a name.

Two: He has met Death before. Several times, in fact.

Three: Someone is trying to kill him. Permanently. But it's only kind of working.

Or, the one in which Andrew is the Grim Reaper, Neil is very, very good at dying, over and over and over again. They teach each other a few things over the centuries.

Hearthlines:

The Fae king and queens have gone away, closing the knowes behind them and abandoning their offspring to the mortal world. As the Fae have spread far and wide, their bloodlines thinning if not vanishing forever as they flee from mortal persecution... two Fae have found a way to reopen the knowes - Kayleigh Day and Tetsuji Moriyama. The Fae regroup once more, the balance of power shifted amongst them, and 'changelings' appear now and then in the mortal population.

Andrew Doe is one of those changelings, a young child suffering in the foster system, shunned by his peers for some reason and hearing voices in his head.

Alex - the latest name gifted to him by a charm - is on the run along with his mother from his father, using their talents as shadow walkers to slide between worlds and stay one step ahead of the powerful Fae. Except even that is not enough anymore. Except that's not Alex's only talent.

*******

An urban fantasy where I throw Fae, necromancy and magic at TFC characters, pretty much!

Scared to Live (But I'm Scared to Die):

Neil Josten goes to the Nest for Andrew, but he stays for a lot more.

~

"I'm sorry Coach," he muttered.

"For what kid?" Wymack shifted. "You've got to give me something to work with here."

Wymack watched the thin traces of sorrow as paper exchanged hands and he was looking down at a contract with the Edgar Allan Raven's.

"I signed them Coach, I'm sorry."

~

The one where Neil doesn't come back from Winter Break.

Amor Vincit Omnia:

“I said it already,” the man said, “Your cluster.”

“But what does that mean?” Neil asked.

“It means that you are no longer just you,” the man said tersely, “Congratulations.”

It didn’t feel like anything worth celebrating.

A Sense8 AU where the foxes all share one subconscious and kick a lot of ass

The Real Thing:

Andrew was more than willing to turn down the Ravens' offer to be their newest goalie, unwilling to play five more years of Exy - let alone for someone with a too-sharp smile and a manic gleam in their eyes.

That was, until he realized that a member of their Perfect Court was his soulmate. (That was, until Riko Moriyama realized that Nathaniel Wesninski, the Ravens' #3 in waiting, was Andrew's soulmate.)

Andrew always knew that Fate loved tormenting him, he didn't need a reminder yet again via a too-attractive soulmate who appeared to loathe him. Yet things aren't always what they seem, especially in the Nest.

mad girl says she's wolf-proof:

Keeping her grip light on Nina’s throat, Andrea drops her gaze to her plump lips. She smiles—coldly, slowly. Fangs on fangs. Salt tombstones. It is not a nice smile, none of Andrea’s smiles are, but Nina’s eyes are stuck in it regardless. “And I will answer, all the better to eat you with.”

 

(Andrea Dobson vs girlhood and lycanthropy.)

lessons in caretaking:

Neil was acting shifty, and Andrew knew why; that motherfucker was leaving. Despite the promise between them, Neil was prepping to run. Andrew wasn't upset about that, not at all. After all, if notorious Neil "No-Swing" Josten needed to leave after Andrew admitted his desires regarding his proximity to Neil's shorts, who was Andrew to stop him. But that doesn't explain why Neil was stealing socks, or why he wanted Andrew's clothes.

Whatever. That was probably unrelated.

Sauntering Vaguely Downwards:

They’ve known each other since the Beginning. Not the Beginning Beginning—they didn’t meet until after the War in Heaven, where they kept to their own sides, or until after the subsequent Fall. It wasn’t even until after the Exodus from Eden, but only by a couple minutes. They’ve witnessed the rise and fall of empires, sampled all the cuisines the world has to offer, and weathered several very silly fashion trends.

Andrew doesn’t think they’re friends, exactly, but it is natural to become accustomed to the presence of the only other being who has been around more or less consistently for six millennia. It wasn’t anything more meaningful than that.

A Good Omens AU where Andrew is a grumpy angel, Neil is a sharp-tongued serpent, and it takes them literally six thousand years to figure out they belong together.

[azrielsdove]

Til Death Do Us Part: Rhysand x Reader

Warnings: Longgg, angst, smut, 18+

***

The glittering lights above shown like stars down onto you. You spun in a slow circle, taking in the dangerously beautiful ballroom. This was the first time you were allowed to attend one of the High Lords parties. You had always longed to come, but your highly old fashioned father did not think it appropriate for you to attend. You were not sure what changed his mind this time, but you certainly weren’t going to argue with him.

You smoothed your hands over the blue velvet of your dress, admiring the way it looked under the lights. For the first time you felt beautiful, ethereal, desirable. You had heard about the deadly handsome High Lord, fingers tingling with excitement at finally getting to see him. Not that you expected him to pay any attention to you.

Yet there was no harm in daydreams.

The large doors to the room burst open, commanding attention. You turned to see everyone drop to a bow, dutifully bending to your knee as well. You kept your head politely pointed at the ground, listening as the High Lord and his closest warriors crossed the great room. You waited patiently until you heard; “Rise.” The cold, indifferent voice sent a shiver through you as you stood. You looked up to the dias where the High Lord sat, lightning shooting through your spine when your eyes connected with his.

You froze in shock, unable to tear your gaze from his. The cruel violet eyes bore into your own, a mixture of fear and excitement running through you. The High Lord was looking at you.

He finally moved his gaze away, beckoning Keir up to his throne. You lowered your head and walked to the edges of the room, grabbing a delicate glass of wine on your way. You stood near the wall, observing the others dance and drink around you. You were so engrossed in your watching that you didn’t notice the large shape press in next to you.

“Hello there.”

You whipped around so quickly you nearly spilled your wine, rendered speechless by the male standing next to you. He was gorgeous. You regained enough sense to politely bow your head, a soft murmur of “My Lord,” falling from your lips.

“How beautiful that sounds coming from your mouth.” He mused, enjoying the way a blush spread through your cheeks. What is happening? you thought to yourself, unsure of how to continue. The High Lord gave a dark chuckle, continuing; “Oh, darling. What is happening, you ask?” Your eyes shot up at him in surprise. He could read your mind? He laughed again. “Loveliest thing, what all have they kept from you? Hiding you away all these years?” His words were dripping in honey, deadly sweet.

You regained some composure, taking a small sip of your wine. “Forgive me, My Lord. I am not so used to the customs of Court.” You spoke politely, hoping you would say the right thing. His eyes twinkled at your response, a smirk on his face.

“Then I shall teach you.” He said, holding his arm out for you to take. You bowed your head to him again, setting your glass on a nearby table before sliding your hand into the crook of his elbow. It was dangerous to play this game with the High Lord, especially when someone knew as little as you.

He lead you to the center of the ballroom, ensuring all eyes would be on the pair of you. His hand came to circle your waist, the other sliding into yours. You placed your remaining hand on his shoulder, heart racing. You knew how to dance, having been primed to be a perfect, delicate high fae wife. That was not what made you nervous. What made you nervous was the look on your High Lords face as he gazed down at you.

He looked like he wanted to devour you.

The music began, a dark, sensual tune. The High Lord led you around the floor in an elegant dance, body pressed tight to yours. “Why have you never attended before?” He asked, cocking his head slightly. You gave a demure smile, playing the role you were trained to.

“My father did not think it appropriate for a female to attend such an event.” You answered, voice light.

The High Lord looked at you curiously. “Plenty of females come, it’s a prime event to find the best male to be married off to. I am simply surprised your father would not want such a delicious thing as you to find an advantageous match.”

Your cheeks colored again under his words, not used to hearing such things. “I am sure he knew what was best for me.” You replied softly, allowing the High Lord to twirl you out and back.

“Mmm.” He mused, looking down at you. “Perhaps so.”

The music ended with a sharp note, the High Lord keeping a tight hold on you. He took a step back, offering you his hand. You took it with a respectful nod of your head, following him as he led you up to his throne. He sat, motioning for you to place yourself on his lap.

You let out a politely embarrassed laugh, telling him; “My Lord, I do not think it would be appropriate.”

There was a brightness to his eyes, something that was peaking out from the cold exterior he presented. “Nonsense. I am the High Lord, no one would dare say something. If you are worried that you may not seem like a well-bred match anymore, do not. I can personally match you to anyone of your choosing.” He spoke, gesturing to the room full of fae. “Now sit.”

Heat rose in you at his tone, placing yourself delicately on his lap. His arm wrapped around your waist, hand settling on your hip. His other hand came up to slip just an inch under your dress, tracing the high strap of your heel on your ankle. You took a calming breath, not wanting him to see how his touch affected you.

“What is your name?” He asked, smiling when you spoke it. “Beautiful.” He murmured, leaning closer to trace his nose against your neck. Fire flared through your body, your hand gripping onto his shirt. You knew that you should not be acting like this, that you should have politely declined the High Lords offer to sit up here.

His teeth grazed your neck, all thoughts vanishing from your mind.

You felt the hand on your ankle move up ever so slightly, a smile against the skin of your neck. “My Lord,” you breathed out, trying to regain some sense of self. “This is highly inappropriate.”

He answered by biting down where your shoulder and neck met, eliciting a loud gasp from you. Your mind went blank, the only thought in there was of him doing that again, again. “Do you think I care?” He drawled out, sinking another bite into your skin. The hand on your leg moved steadily up, passing over your knee. You were going to burst into flame.

“ENOUGH!” A voice bellowed through the room, ripping you out of the haze of lust the High Lord had created. You turned to see your father striding up the steps to the throne, anger visible on every inch of his body. You moved to jump away from the High Lord, mortified. His grip tightened on your waist, keeping you there.

“Why do you think it’s acceptable to barge up here and raise your voice at your High Lord?” His voice was cold, flat. He was annoyed with your father. You felt a shiver of fear run through you at what he would do, at what they both may do.

Your father scoffed. “When he is defiling my daughter in front of any match she may make. Who do you think will take her now, after watching her whore herself out for you?” He spat his words, fists clenched tight.

“Hmm.” The High Lord mused, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw. “She didn’t seem to have any argument.”

“She wasn’t raised to argue, she was raised to wed an acceptable match! If you have no intention of being her betrothed, High Lord, then you can get your hands off her!” You wanted to shrink at your fathers words, embarrassment coursing through you.

“And who’s to say I don’t plan to wed her?” The High Lord spoke, voice commanding the attention of everyone in the room. You stiffened on his lap, digesting the words he just said.

“What are you saying?” Your father demanded, his voice inquisitive.

The High Lords hand gripped onto your thigh under your skirts, pressing kisses to your neck. “Who’s to say I don’t plan to wed your daughter? You say you want an acceptable match, am I not acceptable?” The words were cocky, teasing. He knew your father would not deny an offer like this. To marry his only daughter off to the most powerful High Lord of all time? It did not matter that everyone knew he was a cruel man, your father didn’t care about you. He cared about what it would bring to the family, what a match like this could do for him.

“Very well then, High Lord. If you are serious about wedding my daughter, let’s plan a wedding. Soon. Very soon.” Your father said, wanting to ensure a marriage before the High Lord could lose interest in you.

“Yes,” he said, waving your father off. “Now leave us, so I can celebrate this news with my bride-to-be.”

***

The wedding was set for three days time. You couldn’t deny that you scared, terrified even. Yes, the High Lord was a beautifully handsome man. You could certainly do worse in that regard. But he was cruel. Now that you were due to marry, your mother set to teaching you all there was to know about him. A large part of which included dreadful tales of the horrific acts he has done.

Your father had promised you to this?

You shouldn’t be so surprised. You knew he would marry you off to the first respectable male to look your way. You supposed any of the other males of the Hewn City wouldn’t be much better, and certainly wouldn’t come with the prestige of being the High Lords wife. You hoped that secretly he was kind, that maybe he would be a good husband.

You sighed, gazing at yourself in the mirror as the seamstresses worked around you. They were pinning delicate white fabric over your body, creating a dress that your mother decided was good enough for the High Lord. The dress was very modest, long sleeves and a high neckline. You weren’t sure this is what he would have picked, but you were not going to get into it with your mother.

A knock on the doorframe diverted your attention from the reflection in the mirror, turning to see violet eyes looking back at you. “Hello, Darling.” He drawled, stepping into the room. Your mother tittered, upset that he was seeing your dress before the wedding. The High Lord walked a slow circle around you, observing the fabric thrown over your body. “No.” He finally said, looking to your mother. “This won’t do.” She looked taken aback that he would even have an opinion, but nodded politely.

“Of course, My Lord. What would you prefer her to wear?” She asked, failing to hide her displeasure in the situation.

“Let me show you.” The High Lord replied, a teasing smile on his face. You watched as your mothers face paled at the image he broadcasted into her mind. You had learned of his Daemati powers in the onslaught of information your mother threw at you, understanding now how he was able to be inside your mind. You tried to clear your mind of the fears you were having at the thought, hoping he wouldn’t notice them.

Your mother nodded, saying; “Whatever you wish, High Lord.” She gestured for him to show the seamstresses, so they could work on the new design. In the next second the fabric was off of you, replaced with a shimmering silver. The seamstresses started pinning the dress together, turning you into an object of desire. You stared at your reflection in shock, fingers trailing over the thigh-high slits and deep v the High Lord had decided on. Your eyes shot up to find his in the mirror, the violet bright.

“Now that is what I expect the bride of the Night Court in.” His tone was teasing, the almost permanent smirk back on his face. You couldn’t tell if the shiver that ran through you was from dread or lust. Is this what your future was going to be?

***

The wedding day came much too quickly. There was a flurry of activity around you, everyone moving in a blur. You sat at the vanity, countless fae making you over. Your hair was done up, sensual makeup covered your face, and delicate silver jewelry decorated your skin. You looked in the mirror, almost not recognizing the stunning high fae looking back. This was who you should be now. Perfectly made up, as the High Lord says.

Was one evening of dark seduction worth the rest of your life?

After the deal had been made, your father had left the two of you. The High Lord had not made any further moves on you, instead whispering sweet nothings into your ears, plying you with more wine. You had felt thrilled that night, running on the feelings he was giving you and the wine you had drunk. Sober, and away from him, you were aware that you could be heading into a terrible and dangerous future.

A knock on the door tore you from your thoughts, standing as your mother entered the room. Her gaze rolled over you, taking in the delicately sexy gown on your body, the way you had been remade into a deadly beautiful queen. A perfect match for the Lord of Night. “It is time.” She finally said, lips pressed tight together. “Let us go.”

You trailed after your mother, no love shared between the two of you. To her you had fulfilled your purpose, marrying very well for the family. She did not care how deadly the High Lord was, she did not care about the horrible things he had done. He was the High Lord, and her daughter was marrying him. She had succeeded. There was no further time to be wasted on training you.

She paused before the great iron doors, turning to look you over. “If he prefers his wife to look like a whore, you’ve certainly succeeded.” She sneered, eyes judging. “Do not mess this up for us.” She looked you over one last time, scoffing at your appearance. Then she was gone.

You were alone.

Standing before the doors, about to walk through and pledge yourself to the High Lord of the Night Court for eternity. You half thought about turning and running, but where would you go? He would undoubtedly find you anywhere you went, and what would he do to you then? You felt suddenly sick, willing the thoughts away. You could do this. You held on to the little bit of hope that a kinder male lay underneath, and the doors opened before you.

You walked to the elegant march, taking in the massive crowd in front of you. All of the Hewn City was here, at least. You kept your head up, finding the High Lord at the end of the aisle. Your heart sped up at the sight of him. Damn it all, no matter what he had done he was beautiful. The most striking male you had ever seen. Your eyes moved to the side, taking in his large warriors. The General, and the Shadowsinger. They were just as dangerous as the High Lord himself.

It wasn’t like the Hewn City wasn’t full of its own dangers, however. You knew this place was a pit of Hell to others, a place where evil thrives. Perhaps a life with the High Lord would not be any worse than a life with any other male. You had been prepared for this, made to be a dutiful wife. You lifted your head higher, a demure smile appearing across your face. The right amount of excitement for a lady to show on her wedding day.

You reached the bottom of the steps, leading up to your High Lord. The General was waiting, an arm extended to assist you up. You gave him a grateful smile, noticing a secret light in his eyes. You held tight to his arm, hoping you could ground yourself before you stood in front of your soon-to-be husband. All too soon you reached the top of the stairs, the General depositing you in front of the High Lord.

“Hello, Darling.” He spoke, hand reaching out for yours. You smiled politely at him, placing your hand in his. “You look exquisite.” His eyes were smiling, different than the cunning one on his face. He held you in front of him, turning to the High Priestess next to him.

“Let us begin.”

At his command the Priestess launched into the marriage ceremony, countless prayers and vows repeated. The High Lord wrapped his fingers around yours, eyes locking to you. “I vow to be yours, and only yours, from now until forever. I vow to give you the best life, a life you have dreamed of. I vow to love you until the end of eternity, as long as the stars shine in the sky you will be mine.” You were shocked by the sincerity in his voice, the hope in his eyes.

You took a breath, beginning your end of the ceremony. “I vow to to love and serve you-“ the High Lord cut you off.

“Not the ones you were groomed to say. Speak from the heart, my darling.” His voice was soft, only able to be heard by you. You swallowed thickly, beginning again.

“I vow to do what I can to keep you happy, to keep you loved. I vow to care for you until the end of the universe, until you and I are little more than dust in the wind. I vow to be dutifully yours, for now and for always.” You were surprised by the truth behind the words, the way you felt you could do those things. The High Lord may be a male you hardly knew, but something inside was telling you it would all be okay. Call it naivety, it was all you had.

You felt a slight burn on your arm, looking down in time to see black swirls swim up to your elbow. You watched as the same swirls went up the High Lords connecting arm, bonding the two of you together. It was done. There was no going back now.

The High Priestess led a final prayer, completing the union. “High Lord, you may take your bride.”

Your cheeks colored at the wording, realizing what was in store for you. The High Lord seemed to notice the panic in your eyes, squeezing your hands reassuringly as he leaned close. “Nothing you don’t want.”, he whispered into your ear, “May I kiss you?” You nodded, one of his hands coming up to cup your face while the other settled on your waist. His lips pressed gently to yours, lightning flowing through your body. He was delicious. He was everything.

All too quickly he pulled away, turning you to face the court. “You shall kneel,” he commanded, a mischievous look on his face. He looked at you one last time, smiling as big as can be.

“Kneel, in front of your High Lady.”

***

High Lady. High Lady. High Lady. The title circled around your mind again and again, the stunned silence of the Court after he announced it deafening. Yet they had kneeled, all of them. They had bowed down to you.

You sipped your wine, wanting this celebration to be over. You did not know where you would go after this, but you were tired of the looks being shot your way. Judgement, anger, shock, fear. The High Lord had declared you as his equal, as deadly and dangerous as he. You turned to him, your husband, beginning; “My Lord-“ He stopped you.

“Rhysand, darling. Please.” He said, his hand laying gently over yours. You nodded, still not sure how to approach him.

“Rhysand,” you tested the name on your tongue, “how much longer must we stay?” You hoped the question didn’t come off as rude, you were just exhausted from the day.

He laughed.

“We can leave whenever you would like. Just say the word.” He squeezed your hand. You weren’t used to choice being given to you.

“May we leave now?” You bit your lip, awaiting his answer.

“As you wish.” He whispered, before dark wind enveloped the two of you.

You stumbled at the landing, looking around. Your eyes shot to Rhsyands, confusion visible in every inch of your face. He smiled, leading you to the balcony overlooking the glittering city below.

“Welcome to Velaris.”

***

He gave you your own room, leaving you alone that night. There was too much new information to decipher. Velaris. Rhysand. He wasn’t the cruel, dark thing that prowled the Hewn City. He had his real court up here, this magical place. You felt betrayed, you felt embarrassed, and you were in awe. Your mind and your heart were arguing, caught in a war between sense and emotion. How could he have such a perfect existence up here, leaving you to suffer in the Hewn City? You knew a wide majority of the citizens down there were cunning and evil, sure to destroy this place. But not all. You had met a few friends down there, a few kind souls. Not everyone who was raised in that Hell was a part of it.

You sat in front of the vanity, burying your face in your hands. Rhysand had done everything to protect the citizens of Velaris, while at the same time cursing those in the Hewn City. You knew if you had grown up here, this whole marriage would have never been. No parent in Velaris would force their child into an eternal union, certainly not one with a male all believed was evil and cruel.

You pulled your face out of your hands, looking at your reflection. You looked identical to the way you had before the ceremony, and like you had lived a thousand lives since. You sighed, beginning to remove the countless pins in your hair.

What had you done?

***

Rhysand sent for you bright and early the next day. If you were being honest, you had no interest in seeing him. Unfortunately, the obedient part of you made you go. You rose, dressing in the silky pants and top he has set out for you. Was he to dress you for all eternity?

You rubbed sleep from your eyes as you headed into the dining room, thankful to see it was just him. He gave you a cautious smile, reading your emotions all too well. “Hungry?” he asked, patting the seat next to him. You said nothing, but sat as he wished. He started piling food on your plate, decedent breads and fruits. You were the furthest thing from hungry, but in the nature of submission you began to bite at a strawberry.

Rhysand sighed from next to you, sorrow filling his face. “You do not understand the choices I have to make.” He said, his voice tired. You hummed in agreement, not yet willing to speak to him. He allowed the silence to grow, waiting for you to break it.

After a bit of terribly awkward breakfast, you stood from the table. “I am done. Thank you.”, you finally said, turning to walk from the room.

“Wait!” He called out, grabbing your wrist. “Please let me explain.” His voice was a whisper, a plea.

As hurt as you were, the soft part of your heart won. “Fine. Explain.” You said, trying to ignore the way your skin felt on fire under his touch.

“Come.” He said, pulling you behind him. He took you back to the balcony you had arrived on last night, standing proud over its city.

You wanted to cry at how peaceful it was.

Rhysand saw this, his grip on your wrist loosening. “I understand why you may be upset with me,” he began, your eyes snapping to his. “The Hewn City is a dark place. It is a place no good heart should ever be. When I saw you at the ball, I knew you didn’t belong there. I felt-“ he stopped himself, shaking his head. “Never mind. I know not all of the Hewn City is evil, though it is not easy to find those truly good in there. My cousin, Mor, you know she came from there.” You nodded, knowing well of The Morrigan. You were not yet born when she left the city, but the tales of what happened to her were used to scare young ladies into submission.

“I wish you had never suffered down there. I wish I had found you sooner.” His hand rose as of to cup your face, dropping to his side as he thought better of it. He looked at you expectantly, pleading for you to speak.

“I was not raised to care for what is fair or not,” you started, turning to look back over Velaris. “I was raised to behave, to respect everyone around me. I gave up on hoping for a better life many years ago, understanding this was the way fate had meant it.” Your hands gripped on to the balcony in front of you.

“And yet, I stand here now and overlook this paradise of yours.” You spat out, decades of anger rising. “This home you have had this whole time, knowing what it is like down there.” You turned to look at him, shame visible on his face. “What kind of a High Lord are you, then? Are you the kind and gracious one the people of Velaris believe you to be, or are you the cruel one the people of the Hewn City know you to be?” You watched your words stab into him, his eyes flaring with anger at them.

“You have no idea what I have done to keep them safe.” Rhysand said, his voice deadly.

You scoffed. “And what have you done to keep the innocents of the Hewn City safe?”

“I have rescued you! You could thank me, you should thank me!” He roared, looking like he wished to take the words back immediately.

You stood in front of him, cold and strong. “You may have taken me from there now,” you said, voice calm. “But you did not save me. I needed to be saved fifty years ago, Rhysand. Do you not see how they have broken me? How they have primed me into their perfect little servant? I was raised to be a dutiful wife. If that is what you want, I can fulfill you. Do not ask any more of me than that, for I fear I will only disappoint.” The emotion began to choke you, coming out of nowhere.

You didn’t know who you were. You had nothing, the only thing you knew was to be an obedient slave, catering to the will of everyone else.

You turned and ran, leaving your husband standing on the balcony.

***

You were embarrassed by your outburst. It has gone against everything you were taught, a lady should never argue with her husband. You couldn’t explain where the confidence to speak to him like that came from, the anger that shook your body. You stayed in your room the rest of the day, hiding away until it was late at night.

You crept out of your room once you were sure everyone was asleep, heading to your best guess of where the kitchen may be. You stilled as you hear voices the further you got down the hall, Rhysands and an unknown female. You knew it was wrong to spy on him, that he could easily catch you.

That didn’t stop you from sneaking closer to the room you heard the voices coming from.

“You know it is a dark place, Rhys. I do not understand why you are so shocked.” The female said, annoyance lacing her tone. You reached the room they were in, peering through the crack in the door. Your breath caught as you realized it was his cousin, The Morrigan. The one from all those stories. She stood strong, beautiful blonde hair cascading down her back. A power radiated from her, a sign of what she had overcome. You tore you gaze from her to observe your husband. He looked tired, a sense of sadness coming from him.

“I didn’t expect her to be so angry here. I saw her there, that night, and it clicked. I didn’t think that I wasn’t saving her,” he scoffed at his own words, “but condemning her to a life knowing she hadn’t needed to suffer. That I allowed her to suffer down there. Who else have I forsaken?” His hand rubbed over his eyes, exhausting evident.

His cousin walked closer to him, setting a hand on his arm. “It is a big adjustment,” she spoke softly, “coming from there to here. The realization that evil isn’t all the world has to offer you. She will come around. Your heart may be foolish, but not without a good cause.” She gave a soft laugh, turning to the door. You jumped, knocking into the wall. They both turned to look, not that you saw. You were already running the rest of the way to the kitchen, hoping you could whip up something quick enough they wouldn’t suspect you.

You were watching the pot boil when a sound came from being you. You whipped around, holding the ladle like a weapon in front of you.

Rhysand laughed.

You turned back to the stove, not wanting to get into it with him. You stiffened when you felt his presence at your back, his breath fanning over your neck. You were beginning to despise the way your body reacted to him.

“What are you making?” He asked, looking over your shoulder.

“Soup.” You answered, not wanting to open the way for more conversation. You felt the way he shrunk against your back, his typically cocky attitude gone. You sighed, speaking without turning to him. “Would you like some?”

You didn’t miss the way he tensed against you, a hand coming to rest lightly on your waist. “Oh, no. No, you should eat up. I know you haven’t had food since breakfast.”

You hated the way you wanted to sink into his touch. You nodded, resuming your stirring. A soft silence settled between the two of you, not quite uncomfortable. You turned the stove off, reaching up to grab a bowl. Your shirt rose with you, exposing the skin Rhysands hand laid on. You pushed the feeling rising in you down, refusing to submit to its greedy need.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered suddenly, lips brushing your shoulder as he spoke. “I saw you that night, and any rational thought left me. When your father approached to yell about marriage, I latched onto it. I never took your feelings into account. I never thought how hard this may be for you. I will never force you to stay here, please know.” His grip tightened on your waist, like his body didn’t agree with his words.

“I’m sorry too.” You said after a few moments, breathing unsteady at his proximity. “I do not understand why you made the choice to keep these courts separate, yet. I am sure I will as time goes on. I would like to help get the others out, the good ones. If you would allow me.” You were about to turn to take your bowl to the table when his lips connected to the bare skin at the bottom of your neck. He was gentle in his kisses, each one placed almost lovingly.

“You are the High Lady. What you say goes.” He whispered against your skin, the hand on your waist sliding to your stomach, pressing you close to him. You gave a breathy sigh as he lightly sucked a sensitive spot on your neck, your body hot. “I can’t control myself around you.” His words were heated, the hand on your stomach drifting to play with your waistband. His other hand came up to to cup your face, turning your head towards his. “Say something.” He whispered, desperation in his tone.

You sucked in a deep breath, mind clouded with desire. “Kiss me.” you breathed out, wanting the taste of him. He wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours, starting out slow. Your bowl of soup was left on the stove, forgotten as his mouth attacked yours. His tongue slid between your lips, the sensation sending fire through you. You had never been kissed, never been touched, aside from some lonely nights alone. His hand slid under your waistband, tracing the lace detailing on your underwear. You groaned, leaning into him. “Please don’t stop.” You gasped out, shocking yourself.

He smiled against your lips, his fingers sliding the fabric to the side to swipe through your wetness. “Darling girl, all for me?” Rhysand teased, a finger coming to deftly swirl your clit. You moaned loudly, the feeling so much better than anything you’ve ever done. He sucked in a sharp breath at the noise, quickening his movements ever so slightly. “I need to hear that again.” He said, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. He slid his finger down, dipping it inside of you. You arched against him, another moan falling from your lips. Rhysand pulled away from you, watching the way your eyes were fluttered closed in desire. “That’s it,” he urged, pressing kisses to your jaw. “Moan for me.” His words were unraveling you just as quick as his fingers, pushing two deep inside you. He moved his hand so his thumb could come up and swirl around your clit, orgasm building inside you. He bit down on your neck as he thrusted his fingers hard, reaching exactly where you needed him. You cried out, hand gripping onto his arm. You forgot where you were, your name, everything expect for him.

“Rhysand, please,” You moaned, him smiling against your neck as he sped up his movements. You were seconds away from finishing, moan after moan falling from your lips. With one final bite to your neck and a particularly harsh swipe across your clit, you came with a scream. His fingers rode you through it, prolonging your pleasure until you were a shaking mess in his arms. He held you as you cooled down, sliding his hand out of your pants.

“Are you okay, my darling?” He asked softly, turning you to face him. You nodded, mind still hazy. He pressed soft kisses to your cheeks, leading you over to sit at the table. He brought you your slightly cooled down soup, feeding you the first bite himself. “You need to eat.” He commanded, handing you the spoon. You ate as he said, body doing whatever he wanted. Rhysand watched as you ate the whole bowl, smiling with satisfaction when you were done. “Good girl.” He cooed, his words reigniting the heat in your stomach. He helped you up, leading you to your room. He tucked you into bed, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

“Rest, my love. We have much to discuss tomorrow.”

***

You dreamed of him that night. Of his kisses, his touches. You dreamed of what else that mouth could do, of what it would feel like to fully have him. You woke up hot and aroused, bones aching with need. Embarrassment rushed over you, how had he undone you so completely with just one night?

You dressed quickly, rushing out of your room before you lost your nerve. You went down to the dining room, knowing it was likely the others would be there. You couldn’t hide from them forever, you had decided. You had to make the most of the situation you found yourself in.

You entered the dining room, conversation halting at the sight of you. Five pairs of eyes looked back at you, the attention making you want to turn and run. Instead you held your head high, sitting down next to Rhysand. You cocked your head at him as you took in his amused smile, self consciously touching your face. Howling laughter broke the silence, your head whipping to see the General. “Rhys! You dirty dog!” he laughed, slamming his fist onto the table. You looked back to Rhysand, eyes questioning him.

His fingers came up to your neck, tracing the bite marks he had left last night. Oh. You had completely forgotten about them as your face flushed, tears threatening to spill with your embarrassment. Rhysand tucked his hand under your chin, pulling you to look at him. “Do not shy away, darling. Cassian here has shown up to breakfast far worse than this.” He shot a warning glance to the general, telling him to back off. You were still new to this kind of world.

Cassians laughter drifted off, turning to tease the Shadowsinger about something that had happened in training that morning. Rhysand brought his head close to yours, pressing a light kiss to your lips. “Ignore him. He’s just a great big brute.” You let out a small giggle at his words, not used to anyone speaking so freely. You turned to the food in front of you, gathering what you thought may taste good. You were ravenous, the soup from last night hardly lasting.

As breakfast began to wind to a close, Rhysand turned to you. “These are my friends,” he began, gesturing to the table. “Cassian, Azriel, Amren, and Mor.” He nodded to each as he said their name, your eyes stopping on The Morrigan. She took in your wide eyed gaze, a soft sigh falling from her lips.

“They still tell you what happened to me? Try to scare you from standing up to them?” She rolled her eyes. “Pointless, if you ask me. As you can clearly see, i’m doing better than ever.” She sent you a wicked smile, a promise of what life can be like outside the Hewn City.

With breakfast finished, the others departed to their daily tasks. Rhysand stayed with you, taking in the light color on your cheeks. “Sleep well?” he teased, a hand coming to rest on your thigh. You cleared your throat, jumping a little at the contact.

“Slept great.” You said, standing abruptly from the table. His eyes followed you, full of amusement.

“It is okay to feel desire.” He said, voice quiet. You felt like you would be eternally embarrassed here. You nodded, moving to leave the room. He caught you, turning you to him.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, hand holding the side of your face. “Do not be embarrassed. We won’t speak of it anymore if you wish.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, your body ready to melt into his touch. “Come,” he said, pulling you to the balcony. “I’m going to show you Velaris.”

***

You failed to hide your shock when your husband produced great big wings from his back. He smiled at your face, watching as you stuck out a hand to touch them. Your fingers brushed against the soft leather, a groan escaping Rhysand. He gently grabbed your hand, pulling it away from his wing before picking you up in his strong arms. “Later.” He promised, shooting off into the sky.

You prepared for the fear to rush over you, but awe took instead. You threw your head back, relishing in the feeling of the wind in your hair. You laughed, Rhysands hold tightening against you. He smiled at your joy, pleased at seeing you happy. The flight took a little longer than normal, not that you knew that. He was enjoying your happiness too much, not wanting it to end quite yet.

When you touched down in Velaris, you were stunned into silence. The city was even more beautiful down here. “Rhysand,” you spoke, “it’s beautiful.” He smiled down at you, placing your arm in his elbow.

“Yes, you are.” He said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. “You can call me Rhys, you know. Thats what I go by to those closest to me.” You gave him a matching smile, squeezing his arm.

“Okay, Rhys. Where to?”

***

You spent the day walking through Velaris, Rhys showing you his favorite spots. You stopped for lunch at a divine little café, a moan escaping you when you bit into the chocolate croissant. The food here was all so delicious.

After a long day of walking around, Rhys flew you back up the house on the mountain. He showed you around there too, ending the tour in his study. He watched as you made yourself comfortable on his sofa, contentment on your face.

“Are you happy here?” He asked, pulling you from the sleep that was threatening to overtake you. You sat up, turning to him.

“I can see myself being happy here, yes. I think I am happy now.” You mused, reflecting over the day you had.

His next question was softer. “Can you be happy with me?” There was a vulnerability in his eyes, something you hadn’t seen before.

You stood, walking over to him and sitting on his lap. “Yes, Rhys. I can be very happy with you.” You kissed him, a hand coming to rest on his neck. His arms circled your waist, holding you tight. You felt this insatiable pull to be with him, to be around him. You felt like you were almost a part of him.

You stayed like that for a while longer, kissing and talking. You stayed with him until you laid your head on his chest, sleep finally taking over. You felt safe, cared for, and protected. You felt like you belonged.

***

You were a little dismayed when you opened your eyes, finding yourself back in your bed. Alone. You pushed off the feeling, certain Rhys didn’t want to assume. You jumped out of bed, excitement taking over. You had planned to do something special for the High Lord today, as a thank you for the day he gave you yesterday. You pulled on a dress, rushing from your room.

You headed to the kitchen, hoping the house had the ingredients you needed. You were pleased when you opened the cupboard to just what you were looking for, pausing for a second to remember the magic coursing through the building. You baked all morning, perfecting the chocolate croissant from yesterday. This was what you had been raised for, to cook and please your husband. Maybe not everything you were taught was useless.

***

You bagged up the finished croissants just like they did at the café, hurrying off to find Rhys. You found him in his study, just like yesterday. “I have something for you.” You said, trying not to let the excitement spill out. He looked up, greeting you with a smile.

“And what is that?” He asked, eyes bright. You pulled the little parcel out from behind your back, setting them down in front of him. He looked at you curiously, opening the bag and inhaling the rich chocolate scent.

“The croissants we had yesterday.” You explained, suddenly feeling a bit foolish. He probably had had those a million times, a typical snack to the High Lord. His smile grew as he pulled one out, taking a bite.

“These are my favorite in Velaris.” He said, taking another bite. “Who flew you down there to get them?” He asked, distracted by the dessert in his hands.

You smiled broadly, thrilled that you pulled it off so well. You watched as he finished the first one, reaching for the second. “No one,” you said teasingly, “I made them.”

Rhysands hand stopped, croissant halfway to his mouth. “What did you say?” He asked, voice deadly serious. You were confused at his reaction, not expecting him to be so upset.

“I made them? Is that okay, I-“ You stopped as stood up abruptly, his hands digging into the desk in front of him.

“Darling,” he said, voice shaking, “have you noticed anything between us?” You looked at him in confusion, not sure what he was talking about.

“What do you mean?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of you.

“I mean, have you felt any sort of pull towards me. One that feels like an outside force is tying you to me, making you need me.” His voice was restrained, his pupils blown wide. You couldn’t help the heat rising in you at his look.

“Oh, well, yea. I thought it was just how you felt with your husband, a constant tug from my heart to yours. It began at our wedding.” Your cheeks heated under his gaze.

“Darling,” he spoke slowly, “That’s the mating bond.”

Your mind was blank.

“That’s why I was drawn to you that night at the ball. It snapped for me the second I saw your face. I took your fathers demand of marriage easily, knowing you were the one made for me. I had only known you an hour, and was already willing to do anything to be with you.” The passion in his voice had your thighs clenching together, lust beginning to overtake your body.

“I wasn’t sure if you had felt it too, waiting until you did. Then, you show up here, feeding me a dessert you made.” He gave a dark chuckle. “Do you realize what you have done?”

You stared at him in shock, understanding written on your face. You had accepted the mating bond, the bond you hadn’t even realized. Rhys walked around his desk, turning you to lean against it. “You need to tell me to stop now if you don’t want this.” He whispered against your lips, hands gripping your hips.

Your breathing was fast, but your mind had finally cleared. “I don’t want you to stop.”

His lips crashed against yours, setting a bruising pace. He picked you up, sitting you on the desk as he stepped between your legs. He groaned into the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair. “Fuck, darling,” he growled against you, kissing down your neck. “I need to taste you.”

Rhys dropped to his knees in front of you, lifting the skirts of your dress. He reached up, ripping the underwear in half as he pulled it off you. You gave a cry of protest, a cry that quickly changed to pleasure as he licked up you. “I’ll buy you new ones.” he growled against you, tongue circling your clit. He raised your legs to rest on his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. You moaned as his tongue explored you, grabbing onto his hair as he worked you. “You’re delicious.” He spoke against you, tongue thrusting in and out. You moaned his name in response, begging for more. One hand came to slide his fingers into you, his lips attaching to your clit. He sucked harshly, his fingers curling inside of you. You threw your head back in a silent scream, already on the brink of release. “My perfect girl.” Rhys murmured against you, the words tipping you over. You came with a scream, thighs tightening around his head. He licked you through it, your body beginning to shake with overstimulation before he pulled away.

You grabbed his face, pulling it up to you so you could kiss him. You tasted yourself on his lips, moaning into his mouth. “I need you, Rhys.” you gasped out, hand trailing to undo his pants. His head fell to your shoulder, a groan coming from him as you slid him out. You traced your hand up and down him, amazed at his size.

“No teasing, darling. Not tonight.” He growled, biting your shoulder. He brought his face up to yours, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk. “Ready?” He asked, lining himself up with you. You nodded, hand on his shoulder to brace yourself. He started pushing in, inch by brutal inch. You bit your lip, adjusting to his size.

“Rhys,” you moaned as he bottomed out, letting you adjust around him. “I need you to move.” He didn’t give a second to think, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back into you. Hard. You cried out, kissing him again. “Fuck, my love.” you said, arching into him as he hit that perfect spot inside you. He brought a hand down to circle your clit again, heightening your pleasure. You knew you wouldn’t last long, not with the feel of him inside of you. Your second orgasm was approaching far too quickly, crying out as the pleasure overtook your body.

“That’s it, that’s it.” Rhys murmured, kissing you to silence the cries falling from your lips. You were shaking from the two back to back orgasms, certain you were going to rip into two. Rhys didn’t stop his fingers, bringing your pleasure up again. “I know you can take one more, darling. I want you to finish with me.” You whined against him, body exhausted. His thrusts were still hitting you deliciously, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. “So close, my darling. So close.” Rhys breathed against you, his thrusts becoming messy. His fingers worked you hard as he came, spilling deep inside you. You followed him, screaming his name as you clamped down upon him. He brought you back up to kiss him, working the two of you through your orgasms.

After what felt like an endless wave of pleasure, Rhys slowly stilled his movements. You were breathing hard against him, the room spinning around you. He slowly pulled out, resting his forehead against yours. He scooped your tired body into his arms, carrying you across the hall to his room. You were tucked into the bed, Rhys sidled up next to you. You fell asleep against his chest, feeling whole for the first time in your life.

***

You were awoken by a loud banging at the door early the next morning, rubbing sleep from your eyes. Rhys groaned from next to you, grumbling as he slid out of bed and pulled his pants on. He opened the door to reveal Cassian, a smirk on his face. “As happy as I am for the two of you, am I subjected to listening to you fuck for the next week?” He asked, eyes roving over your body. Rhys took note of his gaze, grabbing onto the neck of his friend.

“Look at her like that again, and you have to listen to me fuck her for the next year.” He growled, shoving his friend out of the room. You heard Cassians laughter as he walked down the hallway, Rhys coming back to you. He crawled on top of you, kissing you slowly.

“Shall we give him a show?”

***

Thank you for your patience on this!!!! It diverted from a true “forced marriage” trope, so I will probably use that again for a different character. I really like how this one turned out though!!

As always, please give me all your feedback. I appreciate you all SOOO MUCH <3

[illyrian-dreamer]

Dance with the devil – Part 1

Rhysand x fem!reader series

Summary: You attempt to rob the High Lord of the Night Court.

Words: 3.3k

TW: Violence, death

Notes: Morally grey Rhysand below the cuff 😈😈😈

»»——-　★　——-«« ★ »»——-　★　——-««

Tick, tick, tick.

That stern voice nagged in your mind, laced with forewarning and impatience that only frustrated you further. 

You had just minutes to find the scroll and get out. 

With gritted teeth, you leaned closer, drowning out that voice - likely your mothers - as well as the drumming of your heart, waiting for that final click. 

You were versed in charming locks, picking them when you had to, just as you did now. And what waited on the other side of this door was worth every swallow of bile, every rise and swell of panic that begged you to think of the consequence - of what would happen if you were caught. 

It was only a half-moon prior that you had snuck into the infamous libraries of the Day Court while the city slept, hunting concealed maps and etchings of Helion’s castle. You studied the corridors and winding staircases of the impressive home, squinting through the flickering glow of the small fae light you had allowed yourself to cast, anxious eyes lifting reluctantly every so often, humouring the phantom furl of a page or shiver down your spine. 

So you pressed those routes to memory – sewers, plumbing, hidden passageways marked in some maps and not others. They were your only true salvage if things went wrong.  

Weapons were now strapped to every part of your leathers that would allow, layers of magic shielding your scent and sound so strong it made your joints ache, as if buckling under their weight.

Easy in, easy out, quick on your feet and don't look back.

That mantra was your only comfort as you silently slipped into the lavish guest suite, a breath of relief that its layout matched your efforts of breaking into the libraries. Because although night never found this court, there was only a small window in which the High Lords were away from their suites, and time was a persistent foe. 

It was incredibly risky to break into the guest quarters of the High Lord of the Night Court, especially after Hellion had declared his home a neutral grounds for the High Lord’s meeting. But what Rhysand possessed was invaluable – that scroll of ancient tongue, the only one of it’s kind. It was worth the risk of your own life, of certain death if you were caught.

Careful, gloved fingers sifted through the papers on the desk, making sure not to leave anything out of place. 

The details you had gained on the High Lord were valuable – he was neat, more than neat, really – his room immaculate and organised. A paper left rippled, a chair at a slight angle, even a stray hair on the sprawling marble floor – all were things he would surely notice. 

But you could tread lightly, could play to that game of fine detail. Nimble as a mouse – that’s how your father had always described you, affection warming his face as he compared you to your boisterous brother. 

With a clench of your heart, you forced the memory out. Once you had that scroll – soon. You would be together again soon.

As you crouched low to sift through the chestnut draws, mahogany carved with the kind of finery that made you sick, a hint of gold gleamed from the corner of the room, the light catching your eye. 

Padding with quiet creaks from your boots, you allowed yourself only a moment to admire the array of scrolls that lay in the wooden chest – it’s lid tipped open, beckoning to be explored. In the centre perched the most exotic of the artefacts. Boring rings of gold, it winked at you, a true diamond in the rough. 

With gentle inspection, you traced the characters etched in it’s casing, a cryptic ode of ancient tongue. 

A whisper of magic kissed your face, stray hairs dancing as goosebumps prickling beneath your leathers. It was waft of excitement, danger, magic aged by civilisations – this was a powerful scroll indeed.

With a hand on each end of the casing, you gently lifted the scroll into your satchel, careful not to knock it or disturb the casing. You would return it after all, once traced.

There was a shift in the air then, and a sinking feeling rippled through your abdomen, like a stone dropped into still water.

Get out – that voice urged. 

You had spent too long here already. 

Swallowing the fastening hammer of your heart, you raised from your knees, eyeing the unsuspecting cupboard  – behind it a hidden door, and behind that a winding pathway would lead you clear to the gardens.

You almost scoffed – this was easier than you had thought.

How could the High Lord be so reckless to leave something of this value lying about? 

The pit of your stomach deepened. 

Too easy – much, much too easy. 

An open, gaping well. 

Oh gods, this was a–

And then darkness – everywhere. 

You gasped, catching glimpses of red and blue as you staggered back. Your back hit something solid – no, someone. Strong arms gripped yours wrists, pinning them behind you. You tried to yell, but your breath hitched as violet eyes glowered amongst the tendrils of midnight smog, choking any sound that whined in your throat. 

“Well well, what do we have here?” a sultry voice purred, a refined silhouette emerging from the darkness, tall and broad. 

A gleam of teeth pulled with a feline smile, the figure prowling closer. Dangerous, lethal, ever knowing with a hint of cockiness.

And as tendrils of night magic cleared around their master, the High Lord of the Night Court was revealed.

Rhysand’s eyes danced with amusement as he watched realisation set in – your own features taut with horror. 

“Hello, Y/N darling.”

You were dead meat.

A heavy, intrusive sensation caused a shiver to rack through you as phantom claws tore through your useless shields, and you were suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of your own fear. 

Rhysand’s pretty grin only grew.

In a hopeless attempt to flee, you barely moved an inch as you tugged against the impossible grip on your arms.

He was closing in, coldness seeping from him as his magic curling in on itself, devouring any hints of warmth from the room, from your own veins. 

And then he stopped, just one agonising pace shy from your heaving chest. 

Here he was – High Lord of the Night Court. Wickedly cruel, arrogant and unnervingly calm, a cat who toyed with its food. The legendary villain of whispered rumours and horror stories exchanged amongst children of your village in the court of Dawn, parents so tired from their youngens loss of sleep that he was a banished name from many households.

Your eyes danced with a panic as instincts forced you to look for any chance of survival. Dressed with finery, but not a weapon on him – that was good. 

But as the shadows began to clear, another male was revealed perching patiently against the wall behind, blue siphons flickering as he stood with wide legs, arms crossed and face stoic. Azriel, the Shadowsinger and Spymaster, waited patiently for your attempt of escape, his own shadows at the ready. 

Fuck.

That meant the male that bound you was Cassian – Warlord and Chief General of the Illyrian armies. 

You were as good as dead.

Your breathing stuttered as you swallowed the plea for mercy begging at your lips. They were going to kill you, that was certain. You could only hope they would do it quickly.

“My my, Y/N,” Rhysand drawled, his voice playful and sensual. “We weren't certain if you were going to take the bait.” 

Placing hands on knees, he lowered himself to your level, those violet eyes captivating you, their depth incomprehensible. You tried to break Rhys’s gaze, but you rendered helpless, realising the cruel use of his magic. 

“But I’m so glad this is how we get to meet.”

He was expecting you? 

You glared back, your breaths quickening at the dangerous proximity.

If not at his mercy, you would have spat at his condescending manner. But instead you fought aimlessly against Cassian’s hold, the male pulling you back against his chest with a jarring tug, his grip tightening until you felt your pulse in your wrists. 

Your mind was scattering with each second, frantic eyes dancing at the High Lord before you. You hadn't expected him to be so… handsome. 

“Why, thank you,” Rhys cocked an eyebrow at you, that cat like grin exchanged for a lob-sided one. 

Had he just–? You scowled, cursing him silently. His abilities as a deamanti also deeming true.

Rhysand chuckled at your foul words, his laugh unexpectedly soft. “Such a feisty thing you are,” he commented, raking his purple eyes down your body. You suddenly felt incredibly exposed, despite the layers of leathers and weaponry you wore. 

“Let me go,” you spat hoarsely, heaving against the General once more. 

“You’re not in any position to make that request,” Cassian huffed, pulling back on the little distance you had gained. His voice was gruff as it hummed through your back.

You turned your head to look at the Warlord for the first time. He too, like the other males in the room, was noticeably handsome. His long hair fell into his face as he looked down at you, his eyes almost as amused as his High Lord. 

Were you just a joke to them?

“Oh, sweet Y/N, you’re not a joke at all. We’re actually quiet impressed by you,” Rhysand toyed, his eyebrows raised with a mocking tone. “We know you’ve been trailing us for months, Azriel here picked up on your movements in our court a whole quarter year ago.”

You flicked your eyes to the Spymaster, his position and face unmoving at his mention. You couldn't help your scowl at the male who was responsible to securing your death. 

“What we didn't expect, was for you to make it this far,” Rhysand continued with a chuckle, his head shaking in playful dismay.

Great – now on top of everything else, you were completely insulted.

“That’s why we set this trap for you. So we could finally meet.”

You frowned at Rhysand. You had been so careful, so stealthy about all your work in spying on the High Lord, slaving over maps and reports until you could no longer keep your eyes open, using the little money you had to buy off secrecy, and always covering your tracks. But it still hadn't been enough.

“Don’t look so disheartened, little mouse,” Rhysand purred, before he picked a piece of lint off his fitted black jacket. “The fact that you were able to break into my quarters alone is incredibly impressive.”

It had in fact, taken a lot of work. To sneak into Hellion’s home had taken three disenchantment spells, and compromised a suite of his guards who were yet to rise from their enchanted slumber. The locks and spells on Rhysand’s chamber were another thing in itself. 

“What will you do with me?” you gritted, glaring between the males in front of you, desperate to know your fate.

Rhysand dipped his head back and laughed, his posture too calm, too casual. 

“What will we do with you, hmm?” he repeated, and a shrinking instinct finding you, one that you hadn't felt since you were a child.

“Perhaps the question is, what would you like us to do with you?” It was a lovers voice, sensual and suggestive. 

You couldn't help the thunder of your heart as his scent filled your nose, crudely laced with arousal as it found you with a phantom wind.

Rhysand was on you then, his face inches from your own as swirls of night filled your vision, his violet eyes the only light you could see. 

You gasped at the sight before you – it was beautiful, but so, so deadly. 

“I don’t like having my things taken from me, Y/N.” Rhysand growled, his voice now cold, unforgiving. Those same claws that tore your shields now traced the outskirts if your mind, talons sinking slightly in warning. 

Despite the little pain, it was instinct to scream.

You tried to make quick peace at the thought of his violet eyes being the last thing you would ever see.

Open your eyes, he commanded mind to mind. 

Without realising you had closed them, you found yourself unable to disobey.

Rhysand withdrew as quickly as he had pounced, his darkness disappearing with him as he slid his hands into his pockets, rocking on fine shoes. His behaviour was erratic, such a contrast to the moment before. 

“Of course, it would be such a waste of good talent.” He shrugged nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t toyed with your very consciousness just moments before. 

You watched him pace, your eyes flicking to the spymaster once more, before noting the exits of the room you knew well. 

“You don't stand a chance,” Azriel spoke plainly, his hand fingering one of many blades strapped to his strong frame. A warning, from one spy to another.

Rhysand grinned between you two, running a smooth hand through his black-blue hair. 

Was he entertained by the idea that you were willing to give a fight? 

You felt a low rumble from Cassian’s chest, all three males daring you to challenge them in their own way. 

Azriel was right – it was suicide to try. 

Rhysand hummed with pleasure, reading your submission as your body sagged every so slightly. 

“I’ll tell you what, Y/N. I’ll make you a deal.” 

A bargain, a promise, and perhaps a riddle from Prythian’s deadliest High Lord. 

“I’d rather you kill me,” you said tightly. 

Rhysand laughed again, and you felt the movements of Cassian’s chuckle from behind. 

“Oh, sweetheart. Surely there’s a tad more fight in you than that?” 

You scowled in return. 

Rhysand approached you again, now holding the scroll of ancient tongue. 

“What do you know of this scroll?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Try again.”

You winced. “I don't know anything.”

Rhysand tutted. “Little liar,” he grinned at you, his violet eyes sparkling with challenge. “I’ll ask one more time,” he sang.

You felt them again, and it took all you had to not crumble at Cassian’s boots at the flooding pain as Rhysand dragged a singular, scraping talon across your mind and back. 

“Resurrection!” you yelped – a half breath, half scream escaping you as your legs gave out. Cassian held you up, your body rigid as Rhysand’s talon pierced your mind further. The pain was blinding, eliciting a howl from you as your vision flashed with white. 

Yet Rhysand’s icy threat cut through. “I have a lot of enemies, Y/N. I don't suppose you are hoping to fetch a pretty penny for anyone who might seek to bring back the rightfully dead?”

“No, n-no!” you gasped, your body spasming and contorting as he continued to toy with you. “Please, it’s for m-my family!”

Rhysand left your mind as quickly as he had entered it. You sagged in relief, Cassian gently setting you down as your crumpled to the floor, your body shaking and twitching. 

You had just enough energy to raise your eyes and meet the High Lord’s stare. Gone was his expression of cruel amusement, it was now replaced with a frown of serious, deep thought. 

He had seen them – your family, their smiles and laughter as your memory flashed at their mention. That meant he had also seen their deaths, their limp bodies piled for you to find in your own home. 

“You wish to resurrect them?” Rhys asked softly. 

All you could do was nod. You were sure you weren't noting a sense of sympathy from the male.

Rhys shook his head, his eyes closing. “If it were that easy Y/N, I’d have the missing kin to my own family here today.”

You looked up at the High Lord through heavy lids, exhaustion overcoming your body with an occasional twitch. 

“I have to try,” was all you could offer, your voice small and unsure. 

Rhysand stared down at you with furrowed brows, serious yet unreadable. After a few moments, he blinked, a few stars returning to his eyes as he raised them to Cassian with a quick nod. 

Strong hands unfurled from your arms, and Cassian stepped back, providing you some space on the marbled tiles as you shook.

Death then, at last. May the Mother have mercy, let it be quick, you prayed silently.

A gentle pull of your hand from your face, and your fingers were forced to close around a ovoidal object. 

Rhysand was crouched in front of you, his face unreadable as his cold hand kept your fingers pressed to the scroll

“I’ll tell you what Y/N. You find a way to decipher this scroll and bring back your family. And when you do, you share that information with me, so that I may do the same.”

You pulled your hand back, eyes darting between his violet ones as if you read the trick that undoubtedly hid beneath his offer. 

“And why in Mother’s name would I trust you?”

He smirked humourlessly. “Unless you prefer the alternative –“ Rhysand’s eyes blackened instantly, and your heart skipped a beat at the promise of death that beheld them. “– I don’t believe you have a choice.”

Make a bargain with the High Lord, or die. Not in a thousand lifetimes could you have predicted an ultimatum so soulless.

“Do we have a deal?” Rhysand offered his large hand as he still crouched before you, his eyebrows raising with a hint of impatience.

You flicked your gaze between Azriel and Cassian. Both of them watched patiently, their stances neutral, obedient of their High Lord’s business. It bothered you – how were both of them so complicit to his evil? 

Looking back at Rhysand – you ignored the voice inside you that screamed at you not to trust him. 

Letting out a short breath, you lifted yourself to your knees and clasped your hand in his. “It’s a deal.”

A gasp escaped you as a stinging heat spread across the hand held in his, and etched it’s way up your forearm. With wide eyes, you watched the burn and itch of a ink-like pattern forming on your skin. Swirls now covered your once naked arm, the picture of one hand shaking another stark on the inside of your palm. It was your hand in Rhysand’s – a symbol of the bargain you had just agreed to. For eternity, or until you deciphered this scroll you realised, with no lack of nausea.  

Rhysand grinned, marvelling the matching tattoo that now tainted his skin. “I’ll be checking in on your progress frequently, Y/N darling.” 

Unable to find the right words for you distaste, you snatched your hand away and pressed against your stomach, willing your self not to be sick.

You were now indebted to this hellish, sinister being.

Rhysand appeared as unfazed. “Perhaps you would consider a job in my court with Azriel?” he mused, flexing his fingers as he continued to take in the impressive detail of your bargain. “Again, we were quite impressed with your work.” 

He was teasing of course, and Azriel’s hazel eyes winced with humour as all three males watched for your reaction. 

You scowled at Rhysand, glaring up at him again. “I prefer my freedom, actually,” you snarled. 

Rhysand laughed in his sensual way, before grinning a wicked smile down at you. “Or what’s left of it. 

He straightened then, his wig men moving to his sides with grace – a practiced dance for all three. 

“I suggest you excuse yourself from my quarters the moment we’re gone Y/N, I’ll know otherwise.”

With a clasp to his shoulders from Azriel and Cassian, the three males were gone in a ripple of odourless night. 

Until then, little spy, Rhysand’s voice echoed in your mind.

»»——-　★　——-«« ★ »»——-　★　——-««

AN: Ok new series let's gooooo!! Welcome to DWTD! Hello morally grey mosthandsomehighlordofthenightcourt 💞😈 I am so so excited to explore this series with y'all. Pleeeeease let me know what you think of part 1, I wrote this over so many months lol I hope it tied together. General tag list is tagged, but if you'd like to join a tag list for this series (DWTD), comment below! La la love you guys, hope you're all safe and doing ok 💞

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

To Hunt a Silver Stag (III)

AU MASTERLIST || THE FINAL PART

PAIRING: Knight!Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Fae Princess!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 3.9k

WARNINGS: Talks of war, death, blood, gore, wounds, stitches, injuries, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You struggle under the weight of the knight. So unused are you to have to travel as a regular, magic-less, being, that you feel your muscles tighten; coil. Aches form in places that have not had them since you were a small child…if an immortal being can even be considered a child, really.

You’d been walking for hours, and your hand was bright with the pain of iron affliction. 

“Stag,” Gaz utters, eyes half-closed tight and his breath heaving. “You’re hurting yourself, Love.”

“I have it under control,” you level. Your lungs burn inside of your chest. “We have to keep moving to the border.” 

“We can’t get there if you,” his voice cuts as he grits his teeth, though it comes back a moment later. “If you can’t walk.”

You slow, his arm over your shoulders heavy as you look over at him gradually. Sweat dribbles off of your nose, silver eyes dull and blurry. Your head is still light. 

You’d both left the cliff-face cave with a long trail of blood leading behind—thankfully, the earth had been sympathetic to your cause. Without any magic to help, it had taken it upon itself to shatter the ground, erasing any trace along with your footprints. But even those forces can’t will the strength back into your body. 

You stare into Gaz’s clenched face, his body shaking with all of his armor left behind except his cape, which hangs off of him to try and keep his bandages protected from dirt and dust. 

Your expression goes grim.

If you wouldn’t stop for yourself…then you suppose you would have to stop for him.

“Alright,” you whisper, and your quivering feet stop. With a slow and easy motion, you slip out from under Gaz’s arm and grasp him carefully, letting his legs bend until he’s to the ground—back resting against a nearby rock.

“How are you feeling,” you ask, your lips already moving to his cheek. To give him a small sliver more.

Yet, before your flesh can move over his, a hand lightly grabs at your chin, stopping you. Freezing, you blink in surprise as Gaz tries a slow smirk.

“I’m flattered,” he chuckles weakly, nodding. “But you need to keep your strength. I can take it.” 

You frown, only pulling back when his grip lowers back to his lap and he takes in a long inhalation, head leaning to connect to the stone behind him. 

Lysander flutters over, resting atop the object as you watch him silently. Thinking.

Gaz won’t make it at this pace—those wounds all needed proper care, and even as experienced as you were, there’s little you can do without the proper tools. 

You’d discarded your crown back near the cave, and while bone could be used as a needle in times of need, it would do the man more harm than good if you decided to take it up again. It had hurt something in you to leave it behind.

“You hand.” You blink, looking back to the knight after you register his words. 

“Excuse me?”

Gaz smiles, head shifting on the rock as his chest rises and falls under his soiled tunic. Those browns of his are something of value to you, and your face heats even looking into them anymore. You glance away for a moment as he repeats himself.

“Let me see your hand, then. Haven't forgotten about it.” You sigh, fingers flinching. 

Moving out your limb, you give it to him as his hands grasp your flesh, picking at his cape bandage until you watch it slip away like a leaf. The fabric is stiff with blood and puss, and under, burst blisters show themselves to air.

Your lips thin tightly at the sight, disgust in your heart before a hiss escapes you. 

Gaz grimaces, sitting up a bit straighter. His fingers slide up your wrist, taking it softly and tilting your hand into the light. Looking, studying, he grunts and sends you a glance.

“I…I don’t know how to treat this.”

“You can’t,” you ease out, licking your lips at the knowledge. 

Gaz’s brows furrow, a breeze going through the trees, ruffling your tattered dress. 

“What’s that mean? Don’t tell me there’s no way to treat it. There’s freshwater—natural salves, I can make one if I can find—”

“Gaz,” you speak softly, tilting your head at him with a sad smile. The knight’s speech trails, his eyes hard on your face in an honest stubbornness. It nearly makes you chuckle as he squeezes your flesh as if trying to convince you of his skill.

“I have no doubt your understanding of medicinal herbs is vast,” you tilt your head. “But this is not a wound that even time can heal. The boils may fade, but the pain never will. It is a wound of iron. None of the Fae can fix such things.”

“Why in the bloody hell not,” he grunts, and this time you do chuckle. Gaz’s face becomes confused. “I’m not finding this all that funny, Stag.”

“No,” you sigh. “No, you’re not.”

Your eyes stare at him, those silvers glinting in the light of morning. He glares back, determined but losing that bead of understanding that he had been holding onto. Magic, the mortal man, was not used to. You explain the best you can, his hand still holding yours as if made of the finest glass ever melted.

“It’s just how we were made, Knight. Just as you were branded to die,” your heart seizes, “we were made to fear iron. It is one thing I will never have the privilege of knowing the answer to.” 

Gaz’s face tightens, his body shifting until a prick of pain forces him to stop. 

“It was my choice,” you try to relieve the burden. 

“And a damn stupid one,” your eyes blink in shock. 

A moment passes before your bell-like laughter echoes over the trees. The knight’s form stills to near statue-like motion as you do, gazing at your hand as the sound moves like starlight and caresses with its windish fingers.

“What is the word?” Your free hand covers your mouth, oblivious to Gaz’s heating cheeks and how his heart soars. “Lionhearted?”

“I’d move more to foolish,” he grumbles, rolling his shoulders. But you had entranced him yet again. Everything about you was…strange. New.

Beautiful.

“Perhaps I was borrowing some of that from you, then, Knight,” you watch Gaz rip a strip off his cape once more. He moves to tie a new bandage, doing it gently as your eyes are as malleable as water. “It is more of a human trait than Fae.”

A glance, paired with a layered smirk. “Rubbing off on you?”

“Seems it,” you slide a calm look his way, fingers flinching when his knot goes too tight. 

He mutters a small apology, face worried before he hesitantly lets you go. 

Suddenly, your lips are near his cheek, pressing a delicate kiss. But there’s no magic in it—no power surge that enters his muscles. Just a whisper of passion before it’s gone with an utterance of, “My thanks, Kindly Knight.” 

Gaz is left breathless as you stand up, feet shifting away a few paces and looking around. He has to blink away the haze behind his mind and clear his throat before he can speak beyond a heavy stutter. 

“It’s…it’s no problem.”

You hum, looking around in a slow circle, your gold belt is still here, resting just under the broken straps of your corset. The gold glints for a moment, and just as Lysander flutters off with little more than a bird-ish call to stay near, you sigh and shake your head. 

“We have to move soon,” you say. Gaz agrees, ever the strategic mind.

“There’ll be hunting parties until we’re caught,” he huffs a chuckle. “While I can put in my trust that you’ll be okay, I, on the other hand…”

Brown eyes look down, narrowing at the carnage of his body. His bandages are heavy with blood, and everything has a buzzing sheen of numbness to the flesh. 

“Well, let's just say that my odds aren’t looking that nice, yeah?”

“I’m not leaving you here,” you pass a firm sweep of your even gaze to him. “You’ve far earned my loyalty, Gaz, and I will not falter in my steadfastness in return.”

Under his breath, he grunts out a teasing, “Was hoping you’d say that.”

Without another word, your arm is once more slipping his waist—Gaz’s long limb going over your shoulder to rest before you help push himself up. 

The man strangles down a sharp cry, agony ricocheting through every nerve and splintering out like bark. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, clenching his teeth. 

You stare from the side of your eye worriedly, pausing.

“It’s okay,” Gaz grumbles, reassuring you. He blinks for a moment, clearing out the black dots. “But wait a second for me.”

“Of course,” you begin but are cut off by the knight's arm moving away from you. A hand is placed on your shoulder, and your body is gently turned to the side. Gaz struggles on his feet for a moment, but he pauses until the abyss at the sides of his vision is gone. 

“Let me…” Fingers dance over your corset straps, moving to tie the laces as best he can. “Tell me when it’s good, then, will you, Love?” 

Again with that nickname—but even you can admit that there was an intoxicating electricity to your skin now. A deadly heat. 

You stare ahead blankly as shaky fingers glide over the fabric, you hear the pulse of a fluttering heart that reminds you of a grand war horse; strong and firm. Gaz takes a deep breath through his nose, licking his lips slowly as he takes up the items and begins pulling lightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “it might end up being a bit loose. I have to leave the bottom loops open.” 

Your gut swirls, moving to gaze over your shoulder with glimmering eyes. Gaz pointedly doesn’t meet it, fixing the stance of his feet. You stare, the fabric around your chest and back conforming as the corset is tightened to a comfortable degree, blinking softly as Lysander returns across the way.

“There,” Gaz nods, glancing into your unblinking eyes before he moves away like it burns to do so. “Is it too tight—?”

Your head snaps to the far right, and a shadow of a large body pushes through the bush. Swiftly moving in front of the knight, you blink through the rose-layered haze in your brain, startled. But what startled you even more was how Gaz tried to push you behind him at the exact same time you did to him. 

Eyes meeting, you both stare, wide, before a body cusps the small patch of open grass. 

All at once, every line of tension leaves in a calm exhale. A large smile peels your lips. Another laugh.

Gaz’s jaw drops.

“Gwendoline,” you move forward swiftly, hand outstretched to land on close-cropped white fur. You chuckle, moving to firmly push your forehead into the animal’s—careful of the horn protruding. 

A delicate snort enters your ears. 

Peeling back, a small and slender head shifts to show purple eyes to you; hooves move over the ground and a long tail with a line of flowing fur down the center whispers over the grass. 

A unicorn. 

“How?” You breathlessly ask under your breath, heart pounding. Her head elegantly tilts, needle-sharp horn poking out. “All this way, My Dear?”

Gwendoline’s eyes glint, as if laughing. Of all the beasts you’d come to know, this one still surprised you. Your head moves to Lysander, but the bird only flaps over and settles on your shoulder, cooing.

You hum. “Clever little bird, are you?” 

“Am I already dead or is that a fucking unicorn?” Gaz bluntly asks, motioning weakly with a single hand as you bring the mythical beast over to him and ask her to bend down. 

Hands grasp him, moving him forward swiftly to the awaiting beast as his feet skid for a moment. Your sly form comes into view in the side of his eye.

“Did you think I was lying when I said I knew one? Many I consider my friends, but none have I known longer than Gwendoline.” 

Gaz’s lips open and close, blinking quickly as he’s forced to get on the thing, his injured body pushed over the kneeling side—in fact, he was a bit afraid he’d break the animal’s back, truth be told. It seemed so…delicate.

But as his hands had to settle themselves into the unicorn’s mane to keep steady, Gwendoline rising on sure legs, the knight was instantly proven wrong. Delicate looking, yes, but this best could break down stone with one swift kick. It had no trouble moving forward as you settled at her side, hand resting on her shoulder. 

Your silver eyes stare at Gaz as he pants not from pain but from boyish wonder. 

Smiling widely, you giggle at him. At his wide-open face and his honest smirk. It’s a magical thing.

“Bloody fucking hell.”

—

The border to your kingdom comes without a fight, and when the first river is crossed, and the bottom of your dress soaked by it, you feel the veil shimmer at your arrival.

“Rightly,” you begin as you set your feet to dry land, Gwendoline and Lysander listening in on your conversation. “I don’t believe I know what being here will do to you—this is a sensitive place, you understand?”

“I won’t stay any longer than what I’m allowed—”

“I am allowing you,” you interrupt, looking over with a heavy heat on your face. You stare at him, riding atop a unicorn with such grievous wounds he’d gotten defending you. 

Gaz blinks before nodding slowly, smiling. “Then I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

The air here is different; everything is lighter. The grass is greener—the sky more blue. It sings. 

“Do you not have family to return to,” your eyes narrow. Gwendoline knows the path—you need not guide her. “Loved ones?”

“Ah,” Gaz shrugs the best he’s able, nearly commenting on the unicorn’s perfectly smooth stride. If he were on a regular horse, his wounds would be burning by now. The man moves his eyes from you to the ground for a moment. “I don’t think they’ll be roaring to have me back now.”

Your face thins. 

“I…” you breathe out a slow breath. Emotions. Such fickle things. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” is the easy and swift answer. “I made my choice—and I’d do it again, as well. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t, yeah?”

Soft eyes move your way, and you meet them, a gentle smile peeling your lips. 

“I knew when I gazed upon you in that Hall that you were strange, Knight,” your words move between the both of you, hovering in the air. “You carry yourself with something long lost. I can no longer name it, myself.” 

Gaz’s head tilts. A humored smirk, but his brows are quizzically raised. “What does that mean?”

You only stare, Lysander on your shoulder and your expressions hidden to all but the old voices of the wind, who’ve known you far longer than all else. Your throat hums, and you turn back to the forest ahead of you, safely home. Gwendoline’s eyes watch you closely from beside your face, glinting their periwinkle hue.  

“Alright, then,” the man sighs, but a large smile moves across his face. A low chuckle. Hell, his heart was even pattering like a bird’s wings.

“When we get to my father’s court, I ask that you let me do the talking,” you speak some minute into the walk, your strength returning the longer you live here with the magic in the very fabric of the sky. It seeps back into you, swelling like a wave. “You’ll be received by the best healers we have, but my father will need answers from the both of us before long. He is a thorough Fae, even by my peoples’ standards.” 

Gaz grimaces as his stitched wounds pull as he shifts his upper body. A hand settles on his leg, keeping it lightly grasped before his face returns to a tempered calm. 

“Right,” he utters, fatigued. He glances at your hand and clears his throat softly.

“Keep your head high,” you utter. “You have my word, Gaz, and I believe that it will account for much. You are under my protection now.” 

Your fingers travel the side of his breachers, peeling back the torn fabric to stare at the bandages you’d wrapped. It was bloody, but it would last until you got to the castle. You miss the way the man’s breath gets caught in his throat.

“I think you’ll like it here,” you whisper, your silver eyes shifting upwards to meet brown—Gaz watches with barely hidden reverence. A great awe that extends to his bones. “You’re…different.”

That's all you can call him.

He huffs, tilting his head. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

—

The healers had gotten him squared away in no time at all, and now, days later, he had his own quarters in the castle—an esteemed guest of your father’s. The mortal knight who defended his daughter’s honor with all the strength of a dragon, even when he didn’t need to. 

Your wound had healed as best it could, but, like most nights, you were up because of it—walking the halls and rubbing at the skin of your palm. What you had told Gaz had been true; the blisters and the throbbing blood had ceased, but the pain underneath remained. A brand of sorts. Burned into your soul. 

The both of you were such self-destructive creatures. If anyone would have commented on it, they’d say you were meant to be together. 

Two sides of the same coin. 

Your unadorned head swivels to the wide open windows of the corridor—sheer fabric curtains of unicorn hairs whispering beside you. There were no fires here, only the illumination of the moon and the stars. The courtyard below is filled with merriment that will move long into the coming weeks. Laughter and warm voices. Dancing.

Their princess was back, after all. The King of the mortals was dead. It was a time of celebration.

You smile to yourself, rubbing your thumb into your palm as you continue to walk on, flowing dress dragging behind you. When you hear the firm heartbeat following after, you entertain him for a while, a tiny smile stuck to your face.

“You’re getting better,” you call behind you, not turning around. 

Before long, a shadow moves up beside your form with a smirk and a heavy chuckle. “Really?”

“No,” you hum and hear the honest laugh. 

“Hell,” Gaz utters. “Got my hopes up.” You shake your head lightly, side-eyeing the man. His soul was more Fae than mortal now—the food and drink were in his veins, and that alone made people…less than they were before. Not only that, but his tunic and pants as well; Fae made. 

You both walk in silence for a time, the man’s eyes still trying to take it all in even since the days he’d been here; it was incredible. 

But then he notices your hand. 

Brows furrowing, he gently takes you by the arm and stops you as you slow, glancing over. Gaz frowns, and just as he did in the forest, he takes your hand and tilts it to him. 

His hands are warm. 

“Can I really not do anything?” You smile. 

“No, Gaz, you cannot.” He grumbles, grimacing, and it makes you chuckle at him. 

“Come,” you whisper, shifting the limb to grasp his own—the man’s eyes blinking quickly. “I have something I want to show you.” 

“Alright,” he says, quietly, a layer of worship slipping between the word and his low breath, staring at the back of your head as you lead him wherever you see fit. He wondered if anyone was really led away from the battlefields by Fae—he wondered if they’d just been as enchanted as he had become, by men and women of pointed ears and unnatural eyes. Flowing clothes and soft voices. 

They’d gone willingly. They had to have—they’d snuck off and now dance in the courtyards below; they live in the woods, near the rivers. Learning the words of birds and beasts, lying in the sun, and sleeping under stars.

Being taken not by corruption of a name…but by love.

Gaz’s eyes glint as your hand stays gently in his, a grin on his lips as the moonlight casts shadows over his face. He squeezes your hand and tries to will away the pain that lives under your flesh with his own. 

Your face heats a foreign fire, one that is becoming more and more common the longer you live around this man. 

You lead him into a courtyard similar to the one from Michael’s castle, yet, at the same time, so very different. 

Phoenixes sit in trees of silver and gold. Unicorns graze on grass greener than anything ever seen across the border. In the air, illuminated wisps looking like stars float to shine light over bushes that drop gems like water droplets into woven baskets. Much like the ones from your crown—the stones that Gaz had given back to you from his pouch; sighting how you had led him to your hiding place without even knowing it.

Perhaps that was when you knew you would love him for all of eternity.

“Sit with me, Gaz,” you breathily say, turning and pulling him closer, noses nearly brushing while walking backward. Feet moving through long grass as if a phantom.

Your eyes pierce him, making him lean forward. He shutters, noses brushing.

“Kyle,” he whispers, only to you. The word burns from the power that surges from that monumental confession. “Kyle Garrick. Say it,” your stare, “please.”

“Kyle,” the man wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His very soul lights inside his ribcage, and his body quivers. His lips brush against yours.

“You’re setting me on fire, and I don’t want to stop it.” Your smile dances, your heart rampages. An old creature, you are—an immortal thing.

But as his lips press to yours, and you breathe down every ounce of loyalty he offers as his hands skate your dress, you would give it all up in an instant. 

Just as he had for you.

You haven’t told him, but when a Fae loves someone, really loves someone…that’s the only person they’ll ever love for the rest of time immemorial. Or at least until one of them dies. After that, if the Fae is left behind, they wither. They Fade. A broken heart, everyone says. 

Your people are delicate things when it comes to emotions. Everything is heightened. Your soul already sings for him—your heart soars when he speaks; when he looks at you. It was still the beginning, after all, but this man was special. He had a mind that would be remembered well after his years.

He’d damned you from the moment you’d seen him under that stained-glass window. A Saint and a Stag. 

What is love, except eternal damnation and memories stuck like gold thread into skin?

—

Far off into the world, sitting near that dark and shadowed cave, a deer antler crown sits motionless in the grass. It has no adornments—no gold thread or gems of starlight. No grand wealth to it.

Just antler and the hint of magic laid in deep like the dirt of the earth. 

Flowers grow in a small patch around a single broken tine.

TAGS:

@sheviro-blog, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @mrshesh, @berryjuicyy, @romantic-homicide, @kmi-02, @neelehksttr, @littlemisstrouble, @copperchromewriting, @coelhho-brannco, @pumpkinwitchcrusade, @fictional-men-have-my-heart, @sleepyqueerenergy, @cumikering, @everything-was-dark, @marmie-noir, @anna-banana27, @iamcautiouslyoptimistic, @irenelunarsworld, @rvjaa, @sarcanti, @aeneanc, @not-so-closeted-lesbian, @mutuallimbenclosure, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @gildedpoenies, @glitterypirateduck, @writeforfandoms, @kohsk3nico, @peteymcskeet, @caramlizedtomatoes, @yoursweetobsession, @quesowakanda, @chthonian-spectre, @so-no-feint, @ray-rook, @extracrunchymilk, @doggydale, @frazie99, @develised, @1-800-no-users-left, @nuncubus, @aldis-nuts, @clear-your-mind-and-dream, @noonanaz, @cosmicpro, @stinkaton, @waves-against-a-cliff, @idocarealot

[squiddy-god]

A Kiss To Wake

Re-upload from my terminated account squid-god-supreme! This is super short- MC is attacked and put under a sleeping curse, malleus uses magic to alter it only to a deep sleep rather then death (sleeping beauty style)

CW : death, angst, literally so. So. Short, happy ending.

black smoke and purple hues flooded your vision as you hit the ground with a thud, yelling and screaming filtered out quickly as the feeling in your body numbed into nothingness.

To say one lived through the indignant anger brought on by the prince of thorns was a task of its own, but to gaze at emerald eyes and see true fear was another. Malleus was afraid, deathly so as he made long strides to where your body lay covered with dust and debris. Perhaps it was the way your hands felt so cold against his own or the lack of your voice trilling out a soft hello, but it mattered not in his mind the reason fear took him, just that it did.

sparks of green swirled and fizzed around and his fingers lingered in the air a moment longer. Sizzling without heat magic dusted your limp frame and the fae drew a breath of relief at the rise and fall of your chest.

A moment lost is but a drop in the ocean for most fae as old as he, but even a second without you is like a slumber for 100 years,  unbearable. Perhaps the thought was childish, that a tale so old most had forgotten it could hold any weight as you lay in his arms. But a gentle touch of his lips to yours, and the fluttering of your eyelashes against his made him appreciate the stories of old.

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

A Song of Ice & Shadow

A/N: Hello everyone! This is an Azriel x Archeron!half-sister reader series, featuring a slow-burn romance, angst, and possibly a sad ending. Don’t worry, they’ll eventually get together even if it doesn’t have a happy ending. I don’t know how many parts it’s going to have. It begins in ACOMAF chapter 24.

Chapters: 35/?

Summary: Y/n Archeron is a cold and sometimes cruel human who was turned fae against her will. As she navigates her life as a fae, she begins developing feelings for Azriel. Having never been in love makes her weary of these new found feelings. Whenever he gets closer than she anticipates, she pushes him away*.

*at least for first 30 chapters, the rest would be spoilers.

Chapter I: Summary: The eldest Archeron half-sister Y/n hates Fae kind, due to tragic past events. When she unexpectedly visits her sisters, she is met with the very race she hates.

II: Summary: To Y/n's dismay, the Illyrians keep coming to their home, and despite her initial reluctance to engage in war talks, she becomes entangled in the political world of the fae. This ends with her worst nightmare becoming a reality.

III: Summary: Y/n is adjusting to her new life in the Night Court, where she finds herself interacting with the Illyrians much longer than before, whether by chance or by force. An unexpected encounter with Azriel ignites something between them.

IV: Summary: Y/n is intrigued by a certain illyrian. They open up to one another one night, but she stops it from getting out of control. With Feyre’s return, things get more tense.

V: Summary: Tension rises as Y/n only makes things harder for everyone around her. After moving into the Town House, she is attacked by the King’s soldiers.

VI: Summary: Y/n decides to attend the meeting with the High Lords, where she is more open and relaxed than usual.

VII: Summary: Y/n chooses to remain at the Dawn Court, but Rhys allows her to stay for only three days, entrusting Azriel with her safety.

VIII: Summary: The Inner Circle prepares for war. Y/n and Azriel grow closer, and a shocking revelation unfolds on the battlefield.

IX: Summary: Y/n learns the truth about her powers. When Azriel is injured rescuing Elain, Y/n tends to his wounds.

X: Summary: Y/n struggles to hide her concern for Azriel while Cassian and Rhys tease her. As the final battle against Hybern approaches, Y/n and Azriel spend their last night together sharing a quiet moment before the fight.

XI: Summary: The day everyone dreaded has finally arrived. Facing impossible odds against Hybern, defeat seems inevitable- but nothing could have prepared Y/n for what's about to unfold.

XII: Summary: After the deaths of her fathers, Y/n past traumas resurface, leading her to do what she does best- push everyone away, including her sisters.

Taglist: @st4r-girl-official @judig92 @5onedirection5 @nayaniasworld @blackgirlmagicforever @stained-glass-eyes0708 @slytherintaco @aehllitas-blog @nebarious @t0uch-starved-h0e

[madockisser]

Could you do a analysis on Jude and Taryn’s human beauty compared to the fae beauty

faerie beauty standard, human/faerie attraction, jude and taryns beauty, and short faerie breeding analysis!!

hi, gladly!! this is another long one bc to fully understand, i threw in some faerie facts lol! hope u don’t mind!

let’s start w what we know,

holly says (at a washington convention !!) that faeries and their beauty is very alien like. they can be beautiful in many ways, beautiful in a way that is not sexually attractive. she compares faeries with the alien man in the movie “shape of water” (this was all found on a tumblr post by a deactivated acc!!! i attached a cropped pic below of the extent of what holly said!)!!

above that pic however, is a letter from holly black herself, explaining faerie beauty standards and if humans would find jude or nicasia more beautiful, to which she says that humans would find jude more beautiful, bc humans have different beauty standards as well.

she also says that beauty is suggestive, which it is. what i am attracted to in a person differs from what YOU are attracted to in a person. this is the same for faeries.

their standards of beauty are ofc centered around faeries and not humans. but that does not mean that they do not find humans to be beautiful, bc they can and many do!

but to them, it’s just a different sort of beauty that they are familiar with, humans do not look like falling stars, they do not have translucent teeth that only shows when they catch the light. they do not have fangs or webbed fingers or green skin.

another thing abt humans and faeries is that faeries can be very skinny and lanky, and jude says that her fingers are rounded like her cheeks and ears, while the opposite is true for faeries, they have cutthroat jawlines and cheekbones, and pointy ears.

every faerie sees humans differently, and every human sees faeries differently. ESPECIALLY since faeries have advanced eyesight, and can see in the darkness, makes me wonder if they can see shadows very well, (like if jude’s eyes always look amber, like the sunlight is shining in them, which is what cardan implies in htkoelths when he says that her amber eyes are alight, despite them flying at nighttime.)

anyway, to make it simple, you can compare it with human traits, hair color, eye shape, hair cut, lip shape, smile, teeth, etc etc! what YOU find attractive or pretty in a person is yours and yours alone, no one will have the EXACT same attraction as you (ever heard someone say “i don’t see the appeal”??)

anyway, take for example, eva duarte and madoc. madoc is a big green guy w tons of sharp teeth that poke from his bottom lip and two cat eyes. YOU may find that scary or ugly, but to eva, she is attracted to him. whether she finds him handsome is another story, bc attraction and good looks don’t always go hand in hand-yk how ppl are attracted to funny but unattractive ppl, it can be like that.

now let’s compare how cardan sees jude. cardan is attracted to jude, lusts for her and desires her despite not liking her, because he’s attracted to her. he later on reveals that to him, her beauty is overwhelming, distressing, alarming, etc.

BUT he also says, “some of you may swear jude is unlovely” bc that is the faerie way, jude does not conform to the faerie beauty standards of being this sunrise eyed, blue haired, skinny to death sort of beauty, like faeries do.

now onto jude’s overall appearance:

we know jude is of average height; abt 5’4, she has the wavy red-brown hair of a willow tree, and she has amber eyes. she is described by kaye, as someone who is comfortable in her body, someone that has the body of an acrobat, or a soldier. jude says that she is musclier than taryn, and only when she rises from the undersea does she look sickly and pale. (just mentioning that i don’t think she is pale skinned, i imagine her w warm brown skin) and lastly, she has freckles across her body.

i also wanna add that another things faeries and humans do not have in common aren’t just their looks, but the shape of their bodies. jude’s hips and breasts are heavier than that of a faeries, mainly because faeries are so unfortunate in fertility, that their bodies do not grow to suit childbearing, because few of them have any children at all if ever.

i suppose that trait is something that could’ve been passed down through natural selection(or they just simply were never built for childbearing), as faeries started using human midwives and human women to help care for babies had, and to help strengthen the bloodline. (bless it w the fertility that comes w being a human)

and since faeries breed true (if a human bears a faerie child or if a faerie bears a child w a human, the child will still be very fae, more than it will be human) human characteristics (like heavy breasts and wide hips) are not passed onto those children, and instead they acquire glamour, curse breaking, magic weaving etc.

now onto jude:

one thing abt hollys writing that differs from many other authors is that she does not consistently remind the reader of the main characters looks.

but, fortunately for us, jude’s looks are described a few times by a few faeries.

in book one, immediately, valerian comments that jude and taryn are recognizable in any crowd, and that there is no head more plain.

which i actually find funny. since he was attracted to her.

nicasia in the first scene that she has any lines, speaks down on jude’s appearance, comparing jude’s looks to that of a faeries beauty, “did you think [this hair pin] would make you as we are?”

nicasia says that jude is not pretty like faeries and merfolk are, bc she isn’t, which jude finds disheartening bc the fae are painfully gorg if they aren’t frighteningly disgusting.

now me personally, the way that ONLY nicasia mentioned jude’s looks out of the whole group makes me think she’s sorta insecure bc she knows that locke is seeing one of the twins, and she’s not outright dumb, she prob also sees that val and cardan look at the twins in such a heated sort of manner.

but again later on, nicasia actually ends up calling her a “pretty thing” so, pretty contradictory but she just means that jude will never look the way a faerie does, but she admits that jude’s still pretty in her own way.

later on, jude visits the mortal world, where “milo” the human boy, circles jude at the mall before approaching her, hitting on her, and asking for her number, promptly before jude clocks his shit for grabbing her. (as she should queen, what was he grabbing at her for 🙄)

time passes and locke tells jude how beautiful she is (twice, like a “winter night”), yaddah yaddah yaddah, in book two, balekin says jude has a pretty face, and ofc smooches on her, and val moren calls jude pretty. in book 3 grima mog calls jude pretty, and later grimsen takes a liking to jude since he likes pretty things (pretty sure he said something to her abt that along those lines, or oriana did, too lazy to get my books)

as for taryn, jude often says how pretty she is, like a princess out of a story book, soft and beautiful, how impossible it seems that they share the same face. taryn also encounters a faerie that describes her beauty as “divine”

i mention all these things bc faeries cannot lie, so jude is beautiful, atleast in those faeries eyes.

lastly, i wanna add; that of course there is human-faerie sexual attraction, bc cardan feels it for jude, as does valerian. jude feels that way for cardan, and once even locke (? tbh she didn’t long for his touch like she did cardan so) but there is also eva and madoc, val moren and eldred, whom val moren was willing to burn his life away just to feel eldred touching him again, there is val and ravus, and hazel and jack. and more.!

so moral of the story, while jude’s and taryns beauty do not fit the faerie beauty standard, they are still seen as beautiful and desired by many faeries, just not all of them, since they all have their own attractions.

i hope this made sense, and thank you for the ask! feel free to add on in the cmmts!