#sam cortland x y/n

[readychilledwine]

I am SO sorry if I've requested this already, I genuinely can't remember! If I did, my apologies. But I saw that one of your favorite SJM men is Sam. Could you write some headcanons for being in a relationship with him? Pretending he lived of course. And also how he would be valuable to the plot of TOG all together? Thanks!

What Dating Sam Would Be Like

Warnings - contains both SFW and NSFW headcanons, set in a world where Sam lives ♥️

✨️Sfw✨️

Dating Sam is honestly hard at first. You were living up to a bar Aelin set, regardless of him knowing who she actually was. And that bar was high.

It caused a few fights at first, especially with him working for her, but those fights quickly became few and far between when you two realized how deeply you actually cared for each other.

Sam, despite his... career... is a gentle lover. He is soft-spoken with you at all times, even in anger. He could not imagine ever raising his voice to you.

Sam brings you flowers 2 to 3 times a week. Your dining table, vanity, and office always have flowers brightening their surfaces.

Forehead kisses. All the forehead kisses. In the morning, in passing, at lunch, at dinner, before bed. It's Sam's favorite form of affection. Something so innocent, but with heavy meaning to him.

He's also constantly holding your hands. Anything to feel close to you. To know you are there and safe.

Sam dedicates his nights to you. He refuses any work from Aelin and Rowan, which requires him to be gone overnight.

All of this isn't to say Sam won't hunt someone down and kill for you. His gentleness is yours and yours alone, so if someone hurts you, let's just say they are not normally seen again.

✨️Nsfw✨️

Sam is vanilla in bed. But that does not mean he is boring.

He wants to make love to you, and he will cherish sex with you.

He doesn't enjoy quickies with you. It prevents him from taking his time.

Sam Cortland eats out. Constantly. He'd drown between your thighs if you let him.

Sam is into a gentle form of domination. He's happy to let you ride or be in any position, but even when you believe you're in charge, Sam is.

"Look at you. That's my girl, riding my cock like queen she is."

Sam doesn't want to hurt you to dominate you. He doesn't feel the need to spank or degrade you. He doesn't feel the need to just jack hammer into you.

Even during sex he is praising you, complimenting you, making sure you feel safe and loved.

Sam is open to trying *some* "kinkier" things. He'll put his hand on your throat, bite you, mark you up if you ask. He draws the line at anything that could harm you or scar you, though.

He hates degrading you. Hates it. Will not even tolerate the idea of it. You are his life, his woman, his love. Nothing will insult you. Even him.

Aftercare with Sam melts your heart. He carries you to the tub and bathes you as he whispers sweet words into your skin.

He brushes your hair out, oiling the ends and massaging your scalp. He will pick your softest pajamas and massage your skincare into your face.

If you'd ask, he'd lotion you up, too. Shamelessly, actually. Anything that allows him to touch your skin longer.

Sam always ends aftercare with cuddles. He loves holding you tight against him.

In summary, sex and aftercare are all about intimacy for Sam. Not domination.

[acourtofinkandpapyrus]

A Flower With Petals of Flame: Part Twelve (Eris x Reader)

Warnings: Trauma and betrayal O.O

Part eleven Part thirteen

Tag list: Open

Y/N and Eris are struggling to go back to normal, and Eris and Sam still don't like each other.

Sorry I'm not keeping up with posting! I've been having trouble sitting down and writing, and my motivation is waning 😭

Maybe it was petty, but I didn’t care.  I was quiet, a smile on my face that I didn’t feel the whole time we got ready, and still once we made it into the nearby forest.

“And you’re absolutely fine?”  Eris questioned again as he followed me through the forest.

Sam had taught me long ago how to find the almost invisible traces he left if I ever needed to find him.  And sure enough, I found them here.

“Again, why wouldn’t I be?  Nothing bad happened.”  I say, and I feel a twinge of guilt for not being honest with him.

But I need his help, and I do not need him storming off in a huff and leaving me alone to figure this out.

So I continued to lie.

I don’t know what would happen if he actually figured out what was wrong before I told him, but I didn’t really want to know.

All my years in the afterlife, I never found anyone I cared for as much as I had Eris.  It wasn’t like I was waiting for him, but I had never found someone I could truly be myself with besides him.

It hurt too much to remember that he’s not interested, that we were just friends.

But it is enough for me.

If I can keep my damn emotions in check that is.

Eventually I found the old withered cabin Sam must be staying in.  Eris made to just stride in the front door, but I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.  “Are you trying to die?”  I ask him sharply.

He gives me a baffled look, and I roll my eyes, using my magic to open the door from a distance.

A flurry of arrows rained down in the doorway, and Eris paled.

“You seriously weren't expecting him to have defenses up?”  I ask, a brow raising in question.

Eris grimaced, “Do you?”

I nod.  “Not so violent or obvious, but you work with what you have.”

“Wow.  Rude.”  Sam said from one of the trees above us, and I snorted as Eris’s head swiveled back and around, trying to find him in the trees.

Sam gracefully landed on the ground, and I could tell Eris was highly unnerved.

I on the other hand chuckled, moving to give my friend a hug.  “I’m guessing you haven’t figured out how to use that thing we stole yet, have you?”  I tease a bit, pulling away after a moment.

I could feel Eris willing me to look at him like a physical string, but I ignored it.

He sighed, obviously already tired of me.  “No, I haven’t.  Though, from the research I’ve done, I found it’s called an Astral, and is somehow linked to the Astrei.”  He said, a slight edge to his tone.

I stiffened.  In my small group of trusted friends in afterlife, Sam and Asterin were the only two who hadn’t had direct contact with the Asteri in some way, so they still only had a faint clue as to what they could do.

“We’ll have to be careful then.”  I murmur, more to myself than to him.

What we’ve been working at for years was to put a stop to the Asteri.  The last thing we needed was them showing up here where no one was ready for a battle.

It wouldn’t be a battle, it would be a massacre. The thought hit me like an arrow, making me wince.

“Let’s see it then.”  Eris said, a bit impatiently.

Sam glared at him.  “You’re not in charge here.”  Sam gritted out, and I rolled my eyes.

“Both of you cut it the fuck out.”  I snapped, and Eris seemed taken aback.  Sam was used to this me though, and shrugged.

Letting Sam lead us through the remaining traps, we all took a seat at the kitchen table, if you could call the rotting piece of wood even that.

The Astral was now sitting in the middle of the table, and I examined it, prodding it with my magic.

I could scent both of my friends' agitation and finally growled, “If you two are going to be pissy and beat your chests, can you do it where it’s not breaking my concentration?”

Sam must have shot Eris a look as he rises, because Eris growls as he watches Sam leave.

“That included you.”  I say, not taking my eyes off of the Astral.

Eris shifted uncomfortably.  “You’re upset with me.”  He says plainly, and I stiffen.

“Yes.”  I say, sighing as I temporarily give up on studying the Astral.  I tilt my head as I look at him, letting him see my displeasure.

“What-”

A crash makes me shoot to my feet.  Eris and I give each other only one look before we’re both sprinting out the front door to find Sam holding a dagger against someone's neck.

Azriel’s neck.

Our eyes meet and I watch his face flicker to surprise and then hurt as he sees who I’m with.

“Sam, let him go.”  I hiss, storming over and leaving Eris behind me.

Sam raised an eyebrow, quickly taking the knife away and stepping back, but still eyeing him cautiously.  “Another friend of yours?”  He asked, and Azriel eyed him also, sizing up this human who had gotten the drop on him.

My lip twitched up in a smirk as I thought about how everyone would tease Az for letting a human sneak up on him.

Sam wasn’t just any human though.

Any semblance of a smile fled from my face as Azriel turned his gaze onto me.  “Y/N, what’s going on here?”

He was still used to me being sweet and pliant.  So he wasn’t expecting me to roll my eyes, sticking my hands in my pockets and say, “I don’t know Azriel, maybe you should keep a closer eye on family members.”

His eyes widened, nostrils flaring slightly as he realized who exactly Erica was.

The cool mask he usually wore was cracked, and I took that moment of him being unsure to say, “I’m trying to fix things, and the last thing I need is you and my brother interfering right now.”

His face snapped into it’s cool unbothered state.  “But you need him?”  Azriel half growled, his eyes burrowing into me.

My shoulders straightened.  I was not letting fucking Azriel make me back down.  I had faced the Asteri and won, my brother’s friend was like a goddamned angry puppy in comparison.

“Well, maybe it’s-”  Eris started, but shut up when I shot him a glare.

“Contrary to popular opinion-”  I say, turning my head back to Azriel who only had a glimmer of shock in his hazel eyes.  “Eris can be helpful, nice even.”

Azriel studied me carefully.  “What happened to you?”

I sigh. I relax slightly as I run my hand through my hair.  “I was always like this Az.  I’m sure you remember dear old dad?”  I ask, looking up at him.

His eyes darted to Sam and Eris, as if waiting for them to leave.

Both of them had heard this story before.

Azriel, realizing no one was going to leave, tilted his head slightly, as if to say, Of course.

“I wasn’t allowed to be anything other than what everyone saw.  The pretty lady of night who was as harmless as a dove.  That was never who I really was, but I had to hide who I was because of my father.”  As I spoke, I saw Azriel’s gaze darken.

“You could have told us.  You could have been yourself around us.”

His voice was angry, and I shouldn’t blame him, I really shouldn’t.

But my day was already shit, and he wasn’t fucking listening.

“When were we ever in a room where my father, or someone loyal to my father wasn’t also in there?”  I ask, staring at him.

“We are going home.”  He snarled, walking up and attempting to grab my arm.

I say attempting because Sam was right back at him with the dagger and Eris stepped in front of me, protecting us with a wall of fire.

“It looks like no one is going anywhere for awhile.”  Eris said with a smug smile.

[delulu-is-the-soluluh]

Scars of Flames and Wind | Chap 3

Chap 2

A Dark!Rowaelin x afab!Reader

(Temporary) Summary:  Aelin and Y/N shared a deep bond since childhood, growing up together in the royal courts of Terrasen as their innocent crushes hinted at a future romance. However, the invasion of Adarlan shattered their world. Aelin was forced to become Celaena, while Y/N stayed behind, joining the rebellion and becoming their most lethal spy, never ceasing to look for the princess. That is until she accidentally meets with a famous assassin who’s eyes she knows for so long.

Warnings: Stalking, death, Sam Cortland, Yn is revealed to be morally dark gray and twisted (surprise :D); Time jumps. I changed one thing or two for the sake of the plot. Had to divide in two parts, sorry :D

Chapter 3 l As time goes by; part one

YN went back to the small apartment she shared with Ren whenever she was in Adarlan, gloom and sadness weighing heavily on her as she replayed her earlier encounter while the sun began to rise. Her heart was heavy because of Aelin's choice, bittersweet from having a proper goodbye. She could still taste her on her lips, feel her in her hands and her faint jasmine scent lingered over the lavender soap. Tears began to fall as YN promised herself she would never forget. Now that she knew who Aelin truly was, she vowed to do everything in her power to take her away from the Guild. She would use every favor she had to bring her back into her arms.

As she reached the apartment, expecting it to be empty since Ren was out of town, she was surprised to find Aedion seated on the sofa in a relaxed pose, arms open with a wide smile. “Miss me, Rocky?” he said.

She was shocked to see him there, as he was supposed to be up North at the Staghorn. She let out a breathy laugh, rolling her eyes as tears continued to fall. She hugged him, saying, “I hate when you call me that. What are you doing here?”

“And I love it when you hate it. I need to report the rebellion somethings, I’m going back north tonight.” he replied, giving her a bear hug. When he heard her sniffles, he frowned, looking at her face. “Why are you crying? Did you miss me that much?” he tried to joke, though his tone was filled with concern.

YN looked at him, vulnerable in her eyes, trying to speak but failing. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and said, “I found her.”

Aedion kept a confused look. “Found her? Found who...?” Then his eyes widened in realization. “Impossible... she’s... dead, she fell into the river.”

“She’s alive, Aedion,” YN said, pulling away from his embrace to show him the dagger. Aedion looked at it, confused, and she opened the hilt with shaking hands, revealing the necklaces inside. Aedion’s breath hitched as he looked up at her.

“She’s alive, and she’s Celaena Sardothien.” Her voice broke as fat tears began to drop. Aedion's face crumbled, and his eyes teared up.

She told him everything. About Archer’s group, about Hunter and Louis deciding about Nicky, what she had done, and how she found her. As she was putting on the radiant sun necklace, she said, “I don’t know if she’s scared of the Guild coming after us or scared to reclaim the throne because of her life, but I tried,” she said in a desperate tone. “I tried to convince her, I said I’d pay her debt, that she could be with us as Aelin or Celaena, but she was adamant...”

Aedion was quiet, trying to process all the information as tears fell. After a moment of silence, YN sat on the sofa, sighing, and put her hands on her head.

“What now? Are we just going to sit here and continue as if nothing happened?” Aedion asked, anger rising in his voice.

“I’ll help her,” YN quickly answered. “I have my ways to take her away from that life, favors that I need to call in...” She took a deep breath. “She’s coming back to Terrassen with us. No matter the name she chooses.”

Aedion stood quiet. A few moments passed until he came to sit by her side. “Are you going to tell this to the Lords?”

“Absolutely not. They will find a way to blame her, accuse her of treason because of her work here... and Darrow will pull some shit about ‘forgetting her kingdom’ or ‘abandoning us.’” YN gave a dry laugh. “As if an eight-year-old could have known that fucking asshole would abuse her like that.”

Aedion grabbed her hand to ground them both as his agitation grew. Arobynn Hamel—a name that’s for certain on his kill list.

“Let’s just keep this between us, okay? At least for now,” YN said softly, looking into his eyes. Aedion nodded and kissed her temple, knowing how long and how deeply she loved her cousin.

Yn pov:

It’s been months since that night at the inn, and I’ve been working non-stop, scraping together every coin to pay off her debt and keep track of Celaena. She didn’t ask for help—she’d probably hate me for interfering—but I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. I’ve had to be careful, though. I can’t afford to be caught by the Guild, and giving them money directly is out of the question. So, I’ve had to get creative. Every job I take, every coin I earn, it’s all for her—even if she never knows.

The first bit of news I heard about her came through the usual gossip in my line of work: Celaena Sardothien freed two hundred slaves at Skull’s Bay with another assassin, Sam Cortland, ruining Captain Rolfe’s plans. The last I heard, she was with the Silent Assassins. I confirmed it through a contact in Xandria who sent me a usual report, mentioning a new face at an inn, and Celaena’s silence over the summer only solidified it.

Two hundred lives. Freed by her. I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. I hope she realizes that if she can do that, she can do anything. Like leaving that life behind for good.

But the irony isn’t lost on me. While she’s out there saving lives, I’ve been deepening my ties with the Underworld. I’ve taken on more work as a rental spy, keeping it hidden from Aedion. He wouldn’t approve, not of this side of me that I’ve kept secret—the side that takes lives for the sake of the cause. I’ve been doing this for over a year now, telling myself that all the money, all the books I’ve bought, all the information and favors, it’s for Terrasen, but since Aelin’s life has been at risk, I’ve gone even further, become even crueler.

Sometimes, my work involves clients like Farran Rouke, Ioan Jayne’s Second. Farran has his own side operations that Jayne knows nothing about, and he’s always looking for someone to spy or eliminate targets that can threaten his plan to dominate the Underworld of crime. He once told me that's why he sometimes chooses me for his more delicate tasks—because of my ruthlessness, sharp mind, and ability to blend into society unnoticed. We've developed a... partnership, of sorts. His targets serve as my experiments, and he compensates me handsomely for my “creativity”.

Right now, I’m working for Rouke, keeping an eye on the harlot at The Vaults. I discovered Jayne’s plan—he suspects that Farran is onto him and intends to drug him with Gloriella and torture him. I reported this to Farran, who then assigned me to watch over the harlot Jayne is using to set the trap.

As a wrestling match raged in the ring, Jayne locked himself in a cheap bedroom with the harlot. I was about to leave when I spotted her—Celaena. My heart almost stopped. I didn’t know she was back. Farlan had gone for more spidersilk, and Ansel hadn’t answered my last letter. But there she was, signaling with a nod toward the man who’d just won the match. I didn’t recognize him, and I had no idea what connection he had to her.

I followed them through the streets, dread curling in my gut as I watched them argue. They were close—too close. I kept tailing them until they reached a large apartment above a warehouse. I couldn’t stop myself; I climbed to the nearest rooftop,uncaring if I looked like a stalker, so I could keep hidden but having a clear vision of a kitchen half lit by moonlight. Peering towards the kitchen window, I watched as they continued to argue. My heart pounded in my throat when I realized they were living together.

She’d left the Guild—for him. He was enough. Not me.

Betrayal flared in my chest, as my eyes filled with tears when he started kissing her. Kissing my.. something shattered inside me while I silently cried my way back home, the autumn sea air refreshing the burning sensation that those necklaces brought.

Days later:

I used to relive that night at the inn in my dreams, waking each time with a renewed sense of purpose. But now, those dreams are tainted, more often twisting into that cursed kitchen, where I'm forced to watch him kiss her and bitterness takes place in my chest.

It didn't take much to find out who he was, since spying on them has become easier—which worries me because of their lack of protection with so many enemies around. They must be out of money and desperately needing a target for him to participate in clandestine fights at The Vaults.

I’m well aware that I shouldn’t be angry at Sam Cortland. Apparently, he doesn’t know a thing about who she really is or her past but how he helped her back in Skull Bay, proved him to be a man of values and true to his.. feelings towards her. One that seemed to be mutual and enough for her to leave all behind.

But anger has been stronger than my reason. And yet, it’s still not enough to make me throw away the dagger or the necklace she gave me. I’ve tried.

And it was so stupid of me for keeping my distance, for hiding away to no get caught by Arobynn, all to protect Celaena’s wishes—only for her to come back from the Red Desert and leave that fucking Guild without a second thought for a harlot’s son.

Now, as I make my way to Rouke's manor, the reality of how futile my efforts have been settled in. Everything I’ve done, every coin I’ve earned, it all feels meaningless in the face of her decision. Yet, here I am, collecting blood money once again, wondering if I’m becoming the very thing I despised—all while she’s moved on, leaving me to grapple with the consequences of my choices. Perhaps I’m losing my grip on my own morals. Have I ever had it?.

I was about to knock on Rouke’s office door when I froze to hear voices inside. He was arrogant enough to leave his house unguarded, so I stood close to listen.

“So, about the trap-offer and getting Cortland dead, I’ll charge you a little more than money. A minor, tiny favor of your pet: killing Joan out of my way and if she do a great job I'll capture her.” Rouke’s voice says, casual as ever. “Maybe even having a little entertainment with her.”

My blood runs cold as I listen to Arobynn voice slices through the air, cold and commanding.

“That’s out of the question. I want her back alive and in one piece. But I’ll speak to her first and If she doesn't change her mind, we will follow the plan.”

Rouke's laughter follows, dark and mocking. “It's quite amusing to see this side of you... Always so composed, so serious. Amazing what a little love quarrel can do, isn't it?”

The sound of chairs scraping against the floor jolts me into action. My heart races as I press myself closer to the wall, trying to steady my trembling hands.

“Careful with your next steps, Hammel,” Rouke warns, his voice turning deadly. “Or I’ll revoke our deal and handle things my way” A tense silence fills the room, stretching out until the calmer, deliberate footsteps of Arobynn finally break it.

I take a few quick steps back, pretending I’ve just arrived. The door swings open, and Arobynn steps out, his cold eyes locking with mine for a moment before he nods and walks past me. So close and yet so far from slitting his throat. I swallow my rage, forcing a nonchalant expression onto my face as I step into Rouke’s office.

“Ah, Sierra,” Rouke greets me with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. Sierra. A name I’ve chosen for these kinds of jobs—an alias that conceals my identity “always a delight to see you, even with that mask” he stepped aside so I could enter the room. "Sorry for this minor inconvenience, but I was just reminding myself how not to kill our allies.” He says as a joke while mentioning with his hands for me to take the seat in front of his desk. As I took the seat, Rouke opened a drawer and placed on the table a heavy sack full of coins.

“Two thousand gold coins for your excellent work with that harlot of Jayne, the body was unrecognizable under that sewage. It's good to see that your“anatomy classes” have borne fruits.”

A sick smile took over his face. I felt the bitter bile rise as I remembered the victim's body. I did this 'work' by taking out on that harlot all the hurt I felt from nights ago. But as the disgust for him mixed with my own, I realized I was turning into someone I despised—a creature without control, a monster of my own making.

“I know you work on a contract basis and prefer to complete your assignments away from others, but I have a proposal—no, a gift!” He says leaning back into his chair. “An exclusive, in-person 'method masterclass' with my next target. As a token of my gratitude for your impeccable work over the past year, and with my impending rise to power, I'd like you in my inner circle as my spy. I assure you, money won’t be a problem neither will your security. What do you say?”

My mind went silent for a moment. The stark realization of my choices hitting me like a stone in my head “I have to refuse. I have another assignment scheduled out of town and my distaste for formal agreements.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on! Still clinging to that mindset? You're talented, I’ll give you that, but in our world, people like us don’t stay hardened for long. It’s only a matter of time before a client grows dissatisfied and ruins your reputation—or worse, reports you.” Rouke leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with ambition, his voice dripping with venom. “Is that all you want? You're already a spy... why stay stuck in the same position when you could be my future second-in-command?”

My stomach churned, but I kept my face impassive, voice steady. “I appreciate the offer, but I prefer to keep working on my own and control over my choices. I have no interest in climbing any higher on your ladder, especially if it means compromising my principles or becoming entangled in your web.”

“Principles? in our line of work? He laughs, a cold, mocking sound. “ You wounded me, Sierra. I thought we were birds of a feather. I might start to think that you’re running away from me.”

I forced a smirk under my mask and crossed my legs ‘I’m not running away; it’s a favor I owe. I prefer to honor my commitments with my clients.’

He nodded, his expression thoughtful “What a shame.. we would make a wonderful duo in this world.” He got up towards the door and took the sack from the table as I went to him shortly after. “That’s what I like about you. This unyielding loyalty to your work. Admirable, really.” He opened the door as I stood in front of him, outside his office. “And that’s what is going to kill you.”

A sour taste came in my mouth. He hands me the money, and I nod goodbye and I leave. The coins feel dirty in my hands, and disgust churns in my stomach.

I head home, mind now racing as I try to think of a way to warn Celaena without getting caught. Was he planning to report her as vengeance for choosing Sam? I sighed as I walked through the door, and locked it, putting the sack in the drawer near it.

“Yn?” Fuck. Ren is here. He came from the bathroom, hair wet from the bath and clean clothes “What made you go out so early? I was waiting for at least a coffee brewed for me.” He joked while drying his hair with a towel.

I rolled my eyes as I took my boots off. “Has anyone ever told you that you are presumptuous?” I placed them near the door and went to hug him. While Aedion was like a brother, Ren was my closest friend. He helped with my training and whenever I was in Terrasen he offered a place to stay and a couple of books and education that survived the fire. “How have you been?”

“I’m doing okay,” he says, pulling away from the embrace “Been sober for six months now.”

“Ren, that is amazing! I’m so proud of you!” I say, genuinely pleased for him. He has been battling opioid addiction for a couple of years now. Watching him fight and now hearing that he’s managed to stay sober for this long—it’s nothing short of incredible.

I hesitate for a moment before asking, “Have you seen Aedion? How’s everything going in Terrasen?”

Ren’s expression shifts to one of concern. “Actually, I’m here to pick you up. Aedion has been called by the king for reports on the ‘siege’ in Suria. We need to get back before Darrow starts thinking he’s the one running things.”

I stared at him confused. “Out of the blue like that?” Since I’m Aedion’s right hand, I’m used to moving between Adarlan and the North depending on where he needs me. Whenever I’m here in Adarlan, it’s usually because Aedion is stationed in the North, and vice versa.

Ren sighed as he went to the kitchen “Sorscha said last letter that the king wants him near because of the growing wave of murders of some bourgeois with contact with the nobility. He thinks it's only a matter of time for someone to commit a treason.” Ren bit a chunk of bread as said with his mouth full “The king is madder each day. You should take a bath and pack your things, we’re leaving at noon.”

“What?” I turned quickly from the bathroom door. “Wait a minute, you came with him? That is dangerous, what if someone saw him with you?”

“Relax, it was too early for someone to see us! By the way, what were you doing for being out so early?” He shouted from the living room, as I opened the bathtub tab.

“What? A girl can’t snoop around, sometimes?” Sighing, I say, “I’m going to take a bath and I’ll tell the rest.” As soon as I closed the door, fear hit me like a tidal wave as I leaned onto the sink. I’ll never be able to tell her about the fake offer Sam is going to get, I’m not going to be here to help her. All that I did for nothing. Money will not help if she get reported, and I don’t know if I have a pending favor to charge.

I started to hyperventilate as dread consumed me. There’s nothing that I can do. Only hope Celaena realizes it’s a trap before it’s too late.

These past two months here at Staghorn have been challenging, to say the least. Darrow has been breathing down my neck, questioning where all my money is coming from and why I have such extensive knowledge of politics and anatomy but not a single new ally. I’ve had to roll my eyes and keep pushing forward—studying, training with Bane and Ren in the harsh winter, and building my trust with the army. I couldn’t even send a letter to Aedion while he’s at the castle, fearing it would raise suspicion. Sorscha has sent reports, but nothing that really grabbed my attention. I need to know what happened after I left.

It was a cold morning at the Murtaugh House. I stayed with Ren to brainstorm new ideas to advance and invest further in the Rebellion. As I was having breakfast in the kitchen, one of the few housekeepers handed me a letter. I thanked her, setting my coffee on the table as she left. But when I opened the letter to read Aedion’s handwriting form the most horrendous phrase:

“She’s in Endovier.”

It happened. Sam is dead, and she’s fallen into the trap. Arobynn reported her. I barely made it to the bathroom before I lost my breakfast. I knew what Endovier was, what happened there, and what’s in store for her. I tried not to collapse as the bile rose in my throat. There’s nothing I can do to save her now. No amount of money or favors will change that. Defying the Adarlan crown is too risky—no one from here will be sent there. I need to come up with a plan, something, anything. But all that came up was the bitter taste of my bile and my own despair.

I’ve found myself standing in a shadowy forest, the trees towering high above, their leaves whispering secrets I couldn’t quite grasp in the middle of the night. It couldn’t be Oalkwood but more like an ancient version of the forest: Full of magic and mysteries and tiny yellow orbs looking through the bushes. The air was thick with an otherworldly energy, as I walked through the trees and branches with only the moonlight to guide me when I felt a presence behind me.

I turned slowly, and there, half-hidden by the shadows, was a strangely familiar figure—a female fae, tall and regal, dressed in white with long bright hair but face blurred by mist. I walked toward her as if there was something pulling me to her. “Who are you?” I whispered, trying to get a glimpse of her face.

“Someone you were once supposed to know” the woman’s voice echoed, steady but with a hint of regret. “Our families are bound by more than just history and blood YN.. there are some ties that come with unseen threads.”

“How do you know who I am? What are you trying to say?”

“Aelin Galathynius is trapped in Endovier and she needs to be freed” the figure continued, stepping closer, though her features remained hidden. “You’re the only one who can help her. The only one who can set this in motion.”

My heart quickened as shock and confusion filled my chest. “How..? How do you know about this?”

The female paused, her presence growing stronger, more tangible, as if the very air around her pulsed with ancient power. “I know because I’ve been watching you, guiding you. You are an Ashryver blood and the last daughter of Montserrat lineage. That connection ties you to her in ways you cannot yet comprehend. I have chosen you, for your path and hers were always meant to intertwine but now, more than ever, they’ve become tangled in this time.”

I shook my head, trying to make sense of her words, but the weight of them pressed down on me, overwhelming and undeniable. “Why?” I said softly, too immersed in her presence and its meaning “Why me? How am I supposed to do this? I don’t even know where to begin to help her.”

“You were never meant to walk this road alone,” she said softly, her voice now filled with both sadness and resolve. “You will find allies, those who believe in the legacy of our families. Trust in the power that flows through your veins, and remember: true strength isn’t found in the absence of anger, but in mastering it. Let your loyalty guide you, but never let it blind you to the part you must take. The time has come for you to step into your destiny and bring honor to your lineage, Y/N Montserrat.”

Never, in my life have I used that name. I knew my origins, the geomancer that ruled over a forgotten land that was once full of life, rich soil and vast vegetation. It always felt more like a legend. A meek justification for the indescribable.

Before I could respond, the figure began to fade, the mist swallowing her form. Panic gripped me as I reached out, desperate to keep her there, to understand more, but she was already slipping away.

“No! Wait! How do I free her, How-” I cried, but her final words cut mine and echoed in the void as the dream began to dissolve.

“You will free her. And only then will the true fight begin.”

I woke with a start in my bed, panting and sweating with my heart pounding and the woman’s words lingering in the air like a command I could not ignore.

It took months to actually come up with a sustainable plan, no matter how many times the voice of that female lingered in my head as a reminder of my time running out. Months of cryptic letters to Ansel—who finally responded to my letter, telling me what happened during the summer and how she survived by Celaena’s pure kindness, giving two pending favors—and small visits to Aedion in Adarlan to discuss how we would approach the king.

I hated to play the long game, to waste more precious time when she was at Endovier. My deliberate optimizing faltered by the thought of the place, my only certainty of being that voice: ‘You will free her’. Of course she didn’t tell me how or who she was and it was my madness to actually listen to her. Even greater madness is the scheme we would put into action.

The king knew my existence and “work” for The Bane by Aedion’s reports, but never saw me personally. I don’t think he even knows my name. While he was “Wolf of the North”,“Adarlan’s General” or.. a name that I never agreed on, I’ve never cared for a pompous title. Not going to care right now. Hopefully he did not create one for me, he was terrible at it.

Aedion had already filled the King’s head through the months with fake information and rumors about someone in his inner circle planning on destroying him and that even though he had the guards and a well trusted captain, he needed someone from the shadows, someone who didn’t have morals or values.

He mentioned that he had one of those at The Bane and would send one to his place to stay for the Litha, the summer solstice festivities, to prove his point if it was his ‘majesty’s’ liking and emphasized that I would need to wear a mask since I was borrowed, and revealing my face would endanger our espionage in the underworld.

Somehow, this convinced the king, and he agreed to let Aedion come back to the North, so I would work directly for the crown.

My part was to spend my days infiltrating under his knowledge as a member of a guest court, giving him some information about a traitor and his head. And then, with Aedion back to fetch me up, he would suggest hiring an assassin for the court. And how to choose “such a vile creature” without opposition from the court for “having someone so dangerous” into the castle?

A Championship. WIth the most dangerous assassins having to complete tasks precarious enough that the elimination would be by death. The prize being ‘the last man standing’ and having all your crimes absolved by dispatching the kingdom’s enemies. Which gives the people a false sense of safety and entertainment and sponsorships to the court.

It wasn’t the cleanest job, since I had to kill a scapegoat: A lordling that was in fact planning something but it was a simple hustle to pay his debts on gambling. I will have to embellish a little more but nothing I can’t handle. And I couldn’t personally suggest Celaena or else it would be obvious. So I will have to convince someone to suggest her by talking about her.

So she could compete and win. Have her crimes forgiven and then be free.

A leap of faith. Lunacy. But the only thing we could come up with that didn’t endanger the rebellion, our true loyalty or my identity.

As I packed my belongings, I thought about a couple of targets for this: Lord Perrington, since he was old and losing his influence. Lord Rompier desperately wanted to fall into the king's graces. A good choice if he doesn’t sell his daughter up to marriage next season.

Or the princeling who eats like a lady. Heard a lot of things about this one and his liking for hedonistic gatherings from Aedion.

The only thing that makes me reconsider him is, apparently, the Captain Westfall of the Guard is always by his side. One more reason to convince the king.

Maybe all I need is to give a little wine to the libertine. He’ll listen.

Author's note: So, I think I got the wattpad writers' curse, bc I simply flunked my whole last semester bc the college didn't notify the system my grades, tried for the whole week to find a solution to get my degree but it didn't work, so now I have to pay for more 6 months all over again, and I want to unalive myself for I'm poor. But hey, I'm okay (I cried for two days) but updates might come slow since I have to get more income. Ily <3

Taglist <3:

@throneofsapphics @acourtofbatboydreams

[historygeekqueen]

To Sam Cortland

Imagine x reader

Warnings: none, just prepare to have your heart broken... oh and angst. Can’t forget the angst.

PS: why am i doing this? Ohhh right because i like heartache

shoutout to: @hunt-godsdamn-athalar​ for challenging me to cause her pain. 

Creds to owner of the beautiful fanart! 

To Sam Cortland... (imagine x reader) 

I remember the day I met you. It was a cloudy day, the sun too shy to make an appearance. I was in the market looking at some spices when I had run into some trouble. They thought I was stealing, and although I won’t admit it, I was. But then like my very own knight in shining armour, you swooped in claiming that I was your wife and that I shouldn’t have wondered so far. I was beyond pissed at you. Why was this man saving me? This stuck up- privileged man claiming me as his wife. 

Once we had rounded the corner, I stomped on your foot and told you, in my blazing heat of anger to, “Never touch me again, if you’re fond of that hand.” You had looked at me like you were finally seeing clearly for the first time. There was a spark of mischief in your hazel eyes and you’re lips were quirked in a smirk. You asked me out for a date that night and of course I said no, but you were a stubborn mule and persisted and maybe having a bit to much to drink on the fifth time, I relented. 

That night you had taken me to a rooftop, it was The Assassin’s Keep at the time, and had shown me to a lovely dinner filled with all my favourite food. I was shocked. Shocked at the fact that you knew what they were and the fact that you had put so much of effort into it. That night was also the first night you kissed me and was the first night I realised I was falling in love with you. It was slow at first, almost like falling asleep and then I was tumbling so hard and fast that I thought I wouldn’t be able to stop, but there you were at the bottom ready to catch me and place me back on my feet. I remember the days after. They were pure bliss. We went everywhere together. Down the river, to the market where we first met and to rooftop where we first kissed. That became our spot.

And then afterwards, we found an apartment looking over the river and into the market below and you had brought up the idea of moving away and starting afresh. I thought you were crazy we didn’t have the money and we had no place to go, but all you did was kiss my forehead gently and told me to leave the rest up to you. “Just have our bags ready to leave, that’s all.” That’s what you had said. And I remember the last day and night I saw you. 

The sun that day was dazzling, no speck of clouds seen for days. We had taken a stroll through the markets and you had told me that today was our last day in Adarlan. I was excited and scared, but I knew I would be okay because I would be with you. That night, I had laid myself in your arms and listened to the strong beats of your heart. Hearing each beat like it was a song. Then you got up to leave. You strapped on your gear, took me to the lounge and played a soft song and danced with me. Slow and steady. You told me to watch the clock and when it was past midnight to meet you at the docks. You had left a ring for me with a note to tell you my answer when you came back.

I remember the last kiss I gave you. I was starving for oxygen and you were my oxygen. I remember the kiss being passionate and slow and every bit of love was flowing between the both of us. I think we both knew what my answer was to your question, but you left. The time seemed to slow down, seconds turned to hours, hours turned to days etc. and you never came back to me. I waited at that dock for five hours before word came. Rourke Farran has caught an assassin and the assassin was dead and Arobynn had done nothing. He had let it all happen. I remember going to The Keep and seeing you there. You looked peaceful, but your body was not yours. They had tortured you and all I could think was for how long do they do it? How long did he have to suffer?

And now I’m here, sitting in this graveyard surrounded by a thousand other stones and with names that have long since been forgotten and a freshly embedded stone with the words: ‘Here lies Sam Cortland.’ That’s it. That’s all they had written. I’m here in one of your shirts, tucked into my pants with your ring on my finger. You didn’t deserve to die. And now you’ve left me all alone with no one to call home. The apartment is lonely, there’s no sound or music or the rustling of a book’s pages being turned. It’s sounds empty, haunted and I’m the ghost. I’m a hollow of the person I was, Sam. But I know what you would say to me if you were here: You can be your own happiness. But Sam you were my happiness, my everything and maybe one day I’ll be able to move on and continue with life, but right now I’m just missing my other half.

I miss hearing your morning voice and your morning kisses followed by the cuddles. I miss hearing your deep and low laughter that seemed to float it’s way out of your chest. I miss your dazzling smile and the sparkle of mischief in your eyes and I miss hearing you say “I love you,” and dancing around the apartment together until we were too sore to move anymore and slept on the floor in each other’s arms. I miss you, Sam. Everything about you, and I promise I will avenge you. I will bring hell down on the people who did this to you, make them suffer. I will always remember and I will always love you. My name is Y/N Cortland and I will not  be afraid.

[acourtofinkandpapyrus]

A Flower With Petals of Flame: part fourteen (Eris x Reader)

Warnings: Angst, threats, swearing, and mentions of murder

Part thirteen Part fifteen

Tag list: open

Y/N has a bit of a break down, and while comforting her, Eris explains that he loves her, despite what he has said in the past.

I winnow all of us to the tree between the spring and autumn court that Eris and I always used to meet at.

Sam starts to scope out the area, as I knew he would, and I take the opportunity to slip farther into the trees.

Eris follows me after a minute, finding me leaning against a tree, trying to keep from having a complete breakdown.

“Hey, it’s okay.”  Eris spoke softly, taking me into his arms and petting my hair as I rested my head against his shoulder.

“He hates me.  They are all going to hate me.”  I whisper as tears start to fall.

He hugged me tighter.  “That’s they’re loss then, because you, Y/N, are the most amazing, caring, strong, and brilliant person to have ever lived.”  He says softly, and I look up into his eyes, and they are depthless as they swirl with emotion.  “Anyone who can’t see that, isn’t worth your pain.”

Leaning down, he made to kiss me, but I dodged, my voice watery as I spoke, pushing out of his arms, “No Eris.”

He looked surprised, and a little hurt.  “Y/N?”

I shook my head, wiping away tears with shaking hands.  “I can’t do this right now- I can’t- I know that this-”  I wave my hand at the two of us, “was never supposed to be serious, but if we aren’t going to be more, I can’t do the kisses and one night stands anymore.”

I hide my face in my hands and let out a muffled laugh.  “I’m just a fucking mess, aren’t I?”

His warm hands gently pry mine away from my face.

“If anyone here is a mess, I am Y/N.”

He takes my face in his hands, leaning down to rest his forehead against mine.  “I love you.”

My heart burns, and I force myself to speak, to make sure he meant it, “But- but you told me that you didn’t-”

He shudders, and I just want to pull him closer, drop the whole conversation and soothe him.

But his words from so many years ago echo in my head.

“I didn’t mean that.  Any of it.  Let me explain.”  His chest heaves as he pleads, “please.”

I nod silently, and he starts talking…

Eris pov, a week before Y/N’s death:

I stormed out of my father’s private office.  I knew I would pay for the disrespect later, but currently I couldn’t give a shit.

“I don’t know why you’ve decided to fuck some Illyrian whore, but you will cut it off.  Or I will cut her up.”

My father was not a humorous person, and the only time he made jokes was when he knew he had won.

Of course, I hadn’t found it funny.

I had completely erupted into flames, shocking Beron as I almost burnt him to a crisp.

This had never happened before.  Beron’s sons didn’t retaliate or fall out of line.  It simply wasn’t done.

The words he shouted after as I made a speedy exit haunted me.

“You are a Vanssa! I will not have you sullying our good name with some whore.”

Y/n’s not a fucking whore.  She’s a beautiful, strong female, and there was only ever going to be one of her.

And my father was going to kill her.

I wouldn’t let that happen, I decide as I’m running down the halls.

I don’t know how he found out about her in the first place, but there was only one thing I could think of to keep her safe.

She was beautiful.  My heart aches as I walk up to our meeting spot, seeing you sitting against the tree with a radiant grin on your face, hair done up in ribbons and a dress on.

You never wore dresses.  At least, out here where your father couldn’t see.

I force myself to smile as I walk up, even as my heart screams in pain, screams at me to lift you up and profess my love and ask you to run away with me.

But I cannot leave.  We would never escape our fathers.

I should have known this would never last, but I had hoped, foolishly, that maybe we could have our happy ending.

“Eris!”  You exclaim, shooting to your feet as you rush to me, throwing your arms around me.

I let myself pull you tighter to me for only a moment, memorizing the way you smell, you feel, the smile you wear.

You pull away, and before I can say a word, you launch into a speech.

“Eris, I know that this is strange, and sudden, and so totally bizarre, but I need to ask you something.”  You say, words coming fast and excitedly frantic.

“Run away with me.” Your eyes are wide as you say it, grabbing my hands in yours.

My throat burns, and my stomach twists into knots as my face falls.

You let go, backing up a step as you see my reaction.  “I’m sorry, you don’t have to say anything right now.  Maybe it was-”

“I don’t love you.”  I say, the words gutting something vital in me.

You freeze, your face blank as you process the words.  “What?”

“We are friends.  That’s it.  I mean, we’ve had some fun, but that was all it was.  Fun.”

I hate myself for the words, for the disinterested expression I have plastered onto my face, for the look of absolute pain that spreads across her face.

“So-”  She stopped, taking a deep breath and I watched as her eyes grew steely.  “You could have said something sooner.”  She rebuffed quickly.

I shrug, everything in me screaming as my heart tore itself apart.  “Maybe.”

She studied me for a moment, before whispering, “Fuck you Eris.”  She turned and strode out of the clearing.

I didn’t move for quite some time.

Y/N’s pov, present:

My heart aches as he finishes telling me his perspective of that day, of why he said those things.

“I love you Y/N, and the day-”  His jaw works as he closes his eyes, speaking softly, “The day you died, I went looking for you.  I was going to tell you the whole truth.”

Tears start to streak down my face once more, and I bring my hands up to Eris’s face to try and soothe him.

“I love you too.”  I whisper, only for him to hear.

Leaning down, he took my lips in his, and I melted into his embrace.

After a lifetime of pretending to be soft, and unguarded, it was nice to actually feel that way.

Like I didn’t have to be anyone but myself, and I would still be loved.

I like it.