#some of these like the bird thing are just theories
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acourtofquestions · 3 months ago
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KINGDOM OF ASH SPOILERS (up to chapter 10)!!! (I think you both have read this but if not ignore this tag!) @iwantavaldezinator @endlessdaydream
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NOX NOX NOX NOX NOX OWENS NOX ITS NOX NOX OWENS OH MY WORD ITS NOX
The fact every act of kindness every small way Aelin helped the world is coming full circle to save it😭 the way we’re getting full circle come back moments for EVERYONE WOW
Also wait Aedion just said he would’ve had to fly, AND confirmed he’s from Terrasen… is he another fae bird boy? OH THIS JUST GOT MORE INTERESTING
I can’t wait for Aelin to reuinite with everyone for Yrene to realize it’s her, same for Nox, for her to see them again
AHHHHHHHHHH
I was not expecting that and I needed it so much after the last 2 chapters… so that’s all… just another great Maasverse entrance I had to squeal about esp. with you two cause YOU GET IT… gonna go read the rest of the chapter now😂🫶😆
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nenoname · 11 days ago
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me: oh i totally get it if some folks dont jive with same coin theory, plus it's strange to conceptualise at first--
me when i see people call it lame:
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#is it any more lame than bill just becoming a bird after a decade of waiting#they dont understand the poetry of bill creating his own end in the form of someone he despises yet gets everything he wanted!!!#sounds like 'i didnt know about the axolotl poem and was oblivious to the bill reincarnation for the past 8 years' talk!#y'all need to appreciate a good ol bootstrap paradox!!! love me some time shenanigans!#also the funniest thing i've seen when folks were denying same coin theory was#'oh that's a paradox so that clearly can't happen!!!!'#as if both time travel eps arent entirely bootstrap paradoxes that literally points the paradox out#and the fact that soos and stan met is one too!!!#...which then makes any canon divergent aus where dipper and mabel dont make it to that ep have the timeline fall apart lol#but everyone forgets about that so whatever!!!#....yes i have beef with the inconsistencies of time travel in the eps but whatever#..........if the kids replace themselves when time travelling then what about the baby versions in 2002--#could you imagine time travellers pig with a billion time duplicates of the kids tho lmao#my point is a paradox brought this family together canonically#defying time and space and lifetimes and trauma theyre all silly goobers together!!!#anyway here's me grumbling cos it was a plot thread left out for years that we were meant to discuss/think about#too bad we didnt expect the 'bill is too busy in theraprison to get reincarnated rn' twist
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medicinemane · 3 months ago
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Really really don't get why so many people seem to have this burning hatred for Ukraine where they'll just... bring them up randomly purely to drag them through the mud and it's like... ok... but... do you actually know a single thing about Ukraine or what's been happening there?
Do you for instance remember when a major dam was destroyed by russia causing massive ecological damage?
Like I'm dead serious here, can you tell me a single thing that's happened in Ukraine in the last 2 years? Can you in any way demonstrate any basic understanding of the situation?
Cause if not... why do you think you should have an opinion on it, especially if your opinion is gonna be how awful people getting bombed are?
Just legit bothers me and... even more so bothers me the number of smart and caring people I see doing this. Basically I'm not even trying to be rude here, I'm trying to remind you to pay attention and remember that not everything you read on the internet is true, a tumblr post isn't a source unless they're giving you a reputable source
Cause like me? I can go track you down articles about the Nova Kakhovka dam being destroyed, and I can talk about all the reason why it's pretty clear that russia destroyed it
Can you do the same for me? Can you back up your claim about Ukraine with something concrete?
In many ways I'm not even asking you to support Ukraine, I get we have a limit to how much we can focus on, it's ok if you focus on your cause and I focus on mine and... both of us giving our undivided attention, maybe we both make some small impact on the world
What I'm asking is you don't be an asshole for no reason. You don't need to throw Ukraine under the bus. Don't you think your cause stands up on it's own two feet?
And again I'm not Ukrainian, I don't know as well as someone there, though... I spare you a lot of the stuff that crosses my dash because I don't want to burn people out with horrible stuff, but please understand it's worse than you probably think
So no, not Ukrainian, but I'll tell you why I'm still worth listening to: I've followed this every day since the invasion began. I keep my ear to the ground. I do know a fair bit and again can back what I have to say up
Anyway, my plea is to just not be a dick to people for no reason. The correct number of bombed civilians is zero, that's my stance
#still fucking haunts me the video of this zoo keeper just crying as she films the flooded zoo#and you can just hear all the animals screaming in terror as they slowly drown#and... there... there just wasn't anything anyone could do#the water was coming up too fast... they didn't have time... they didn't have the equipment to move them#it was really only the birds that survived cause they at least could fly away when their enclosures were opened#I really do mean haunt; like... the second I think about it... just kind of gnaws at my insides#and that's just one video of one thing from one event#anyway; to pivot slightly; not that I want to call everything I disagree with russian propaganda#but there's various stuff I can point to and draw a pretty solid line between it and russian propaganda I think#as in; if I popped open sputnik right now I think there's a fair chance I'd find an article on it#...like the biolabs thing; that one I literally did that with and guess who was spreading it? the literal propaganda site#like man... you're smart; you're so brilliant... why on earth are you falling so hook line and sinker for this stuff?#Ukraine ain't your enemy man#where as russia; again I can draw a direct line between them and say... the suffering of the Iranian people#between russia and the election results in Venezuela; to my understanding russia literally has ships off the coast right now#and it's a fact putin congratulated maduro despite there being a number of issues#such as... the total percentages released by the government totaling 109%#listen man; I'm not stupid; I'm susceptible to propaganda too; you think I don't know that?#but I can at least show my work and I can at least explain my motivation and I can at least lay it all bare#maybe I'm wrong... maybe#hard for me to think I am when I see hospitals being bombed... kinda tend to think the people who do that are bad#(and why... why do people keep making it a pissing match instead of saying 'it's bad no matter where it happens'?)#but maybe I'm wrong... at least I can walk you through why I'm coming to the conclusion I am#and just fuck me... all I want is a world where no one's getting blown to bits for the crime of being alive#do you actually have any grasp of geopolitics?#not as in like... this or that theory or some bullshit about why america good; america bad; whatever#I mean can you actually draw a line between things happening around the world and tell me how they relate?#like... can you talk about India in relation to other countries; can you talk about Modi's politics?#(I can't stand Modi and I think I have some pretty good reasons such as his treatment of the Muslim minority; he's a nationalist)#can you talk at all about Turkey; or Armenia and Azerbaijan?
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harmonybarmy · 2 years ago
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very brave of the yellowjackets writers to be like 'hey, what if eating your friend was a bad thing?'
#🐇#yellowjackets#I appreciate it though loved the opening scene love the aftermath of last week#I don't understand nat though like rip jackie you might be what helps us survive the winter#like maybe if you had kept some leftovers but you gobbled her up in one sitting#the whole bird thing happened but I doubt nat will make the connection there like lottie surely will#I'd also imagine now that ben can finally eat because of the birds but he might be passively suicidal like jackie was#and we know how that went. he should've quit his job and had indoor heating someone that loves him and gay sex#I still really hate the adult timeline. I love jeff and lottie's stuff is getting interesting but that's about it#I'm kinda wondering if lottie will start the cannibal rituals now after the hive vision at the end#idk I think I'm traumatized from other shows trying to shock people so I need to make theories#and I think maybe with this show the simplest explanation is the answer so I'm trying not to make theories#even though I think antler queen jackie would be so fun like it's probably just lottie#also needs to be said I dislike misty and showtunes even more now the girls should have probably had them for brunch already#and also I'm like convinced that shauna has a personality disorder like I won't say she didn't have feelings for jackie#but like she wanted to be jackie more than she wanted to be with jackie#there are many other reasons but yeah totally sure of it now#anyway I could probably say more but I have to start packing! so goodbye for now!
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widowshill · 1 year ago
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my favorite explanation by a treasured mutual about how werewolves could possibly be the enemy of the eldritch horrors older than man is that - and i’m not remembering this very well - werewolves are like, the present day version of some ancient demons that only exist now as a form taken by humans, or like, that werewolves are possessed by this race when they transform, but their primordial form is an enemy of the leviathans from the time before humanity. like to be clear this idea is absolutely invented whole cloth to explain this very silly and unbelievable plot point, but i’ve incorporated into my belief system for the good ds in my head
that's as good an explanation as any ! but i still think it's a bunch of malarkey.
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a-b-riddle · 6 months ago
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Not me imagining medic reader who acts weird around Ghost.
At first everyone thinks that you’re just weirded out. 6’4 wall of a man in a skull mask. His eyes covered in black makeup and eyes such a deep brown they’re almost black. Anyone in their right mind would be on edge.
But then as time progresses it doesn’t stop. You don’t ease up no matter how many times you’ve been around Ghost. Eventually the 141 begins to suspect something much more sinister.
Theories of knowing something about Ghost you shouldn’t. Are you working for Makarov and worried? Your eyes never leave him anytime he enters a room. Your voice wavering anytime he asks you a question. You’re not like that with the others. You’re hiding something. And they know it.
Johnny is the one you’ve gotten closest to in the 141. The one who wants to believe you’re not a traitor. You’re Birdie for Christ’s sake. Their bird, as they call you. You couldn’t be betraying them. He’s able to convince the guys to let him get you drunk. See if you slip up.
It’s a quiet night on base. Johnny had manage to get flavored vodka imported. Enticing you to come have a drink in his barracks.
And boy, do you.
You get too tipsy to notice how off Johnny seems. How his voice is softer, more alluring. You also down notice the phone face down on the table, serving as a live walkie-talkie between him and the others listening in Price’s office.
Johnny and you bullshit around. Talking about F1 racing, the need for more help in the medbay and even what your plans are when you get back home.
Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He needs to know.
“What’s your deal with the Simon?” He finally asks. His question grants you pause, almost instantly sobering you up. Johnny sees it in your eyes. His heart breaking because he begins to believe he was wrong.
“Hen,” his hand grabs yours, when you don’t say anything. “I know something is going on.” You try and pull away but he doesn’t let go.
“Have-” you begin, trying to figure out how to tell him. Johnny is your friend. He wouldn’t care. But you fail to come up with the words. “Fuck.”
“Please.” He begs. “You know you can tell me.” You wait. Contemplating if you should tell him. But then it could mean losing any respect you had earned with them.
“You can’t judge me.” You made him promise, tears beginning to well in your eyes.
“I won’t.” He promises, offering a squeeze of reassurance. He knew that the moment you confessed to whatever it was you were hiding, the team would be in there. He knew what would happen to you. And although there were no romantic feelings he held toward you, he still cared.
You took a deep breath.
“It’s the mask.” You confessed. “It’s hot.” Now it was Johnny’s turn to pause.
The mask?
“What?” He asked in disbelief, pulling his hand off of yours. “What do you mean it’s hot?” “You’re worried that he’s sweating underneath it.”
“I want to fuck him.” It felt like a weight lifted the moment your confession of lust escaped your lips.
Johnny sat there, knowing his Captain, fellow Sergeant and, most importantly, his Lieutenant were listening on the other end of the phone.
“Simon.” he clarified. “Ye want to fuck Simon.”
“I mean if he keeps the mask on.” You shrug, looking at his bewildered expression. “It’s a kink, Johnny. Some people like feet or being led around on a dog leash.” You down the rest of the sweetened liquor, cringing as the last sip makes your stomach flip. “Men in masks do it for me. It’s a thing now. Lots of women like it.”
He doesn’t say anything. The room filled with uncomfortable silence until he breaks out in laughter.
“If you say anything, I will murder you and we both know I can make it look like an accident.” You threaten.
“Feckin’ hell.” He sighs, wiping tears from his eyes. “This isn’t how I expected the conversation to go.”
“Well,” you say standing, needing a moment to get your bearings. “It’s also over. I’m calling it a night.”
“I’ll walk ye back to yer room.” He says standing.
“No need.” You wave off. “I’m good.”
He knows you’re right. But now guilt eats away at him for even thinking you were a traitor. So he lets you go, listening to the sound of your footsteps fading as you walk down the empty corridor.
Several minutes later the others join him in his barracks. None of them saying something until, Johnny looks at Simon.
“Looks like the little Bird has a thing for you, Lt.”
Simon rolls his eyes.
Thankful that his mask is hiding his shit eating grin.
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thegreatyin · 1 month ago
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exactly!!!! as it goes!!!!!!!!!!
current fallen london fandom experience feels like im standing at the corner of a party holding a sippy cup going. i thought firmament has been pretty fun and intriguing so far
#i dont think the fire that follows was necessarily sent by immanent tbh#i think it's implied to be a separate entity. it might have been heavily influenced by him but i dont think he's precisely the source#he was influenced by it too#so it's Some Other Player in this whole web of eldritch baffling horrors#but idk. that's just my theory#fallen london#fallen london spoilers#firmament spoilers#y'know it's funny in hindsight that so far the rain seems completely unrelated to the wider plot#like#the rain was just the thing that got us here. we solved that. now we've got bigger matters (birds) to deal with#im sure it'll all somehow tie back Eventually#for now im just going with the flow. having fun. living it up#i dont think it's fair to compare it to railway and evolution especially considering we know the complete stories of both#meanwhile we're literally going through the firmament motions as we speak#we can only judge it by the content that's been released so far#and on that basis i think compared to other Big Large Scale Adventures™ the early chapters of firmament win so far#admittedly perhaps by virtue of both railway and evo only picking up steam towards the latter half imo#what firmament really needs is a (comparative) breather where we can catch our breath and recap/sum it all up#chat with our buddies#figure out where to go from here#yknow?#we might get that at burgundy. we might not. we can only wait and see#im really excited for chapter 4. i cant wait to finally see what the last duchess's deal is#the scoundrel hasnt gotten along with her from the start so the rp interpretion opportunities alone will be fun
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stclaretarot · 2 months ago
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PICK A CARD ⭒ a message meant to find you you right now?
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reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.
BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!
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GROUP ONE
cards pulled · knight of cups, five of pentacles, the lovers, ten of pentacles, king of cups. 
channelled songs · blue by beyoncé & blue ivy. like it like that by pip millett. bigger by beyoncé. between the bars by eliott smith.
my dear group one  ♡ brace yourself, dear, because love is closer to you than you think! it is closer to you than you could ever imagine! 
not only is it closer to you in the span of time, but physically closer to you, as your next love may be someone who is around you. this is someone who you may not necessarily be friends with or even talk to, but who you share a schedule with. for example, someone you commute with or see at the coffee shop or see at the gym. 
whatever the specifics, this seems to be someone who you have not really paid much attention to or thought of as a romantic prospect. 
however, very soon, things are going to change. and they are going to change for the better!
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GROUP TWO
cards pulled · eight of swords, page of pentacles, the hierophant, the emperor, seven of pentacles.
channelled songs · filter theory by coa white. alive by shinee. get back by pop smoke. walk by nct 127. 
my dear group two  ♡ what you must know, my dear, is that your anxiety is stopping you from seeing your way out of your current situation. you are a bird in a cage, the cagedoor is wide open, and you want to be free but you are afraid of what freedom would be like. 
you are stuck. you are stagnant. you are afraid to take a step forward and unwilling to accept your life for what it is. 
it’s kind of weird becauseyou want things to happen in your life, to change,  but… at the same time… you have no idea what you want out of life. you have no idea what exactly in your life you want to change. 
it’s time to sit down and do some introspection.
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GROUP THREE
cards pulled · page of cups, the lovers, four of swords, page of swords, king of pentacles.
channelled songs · wait for it from hamilton. blue by taemin. honey - remix by mariah carey & mase. youngblood by 5 seconds of summer.
my dear group three ♡ what you must know is that soon you will find out why things have turned out the way that they have. why things have fallen apart. why things have not worked out before, or worked out in the way you had hoped. especially where love and work is concerned. 
a better lover or business partner is coming towards you. this is a lover who can actually meet your needs in all the ways you have desired. or this is a business partner/job opportunity who will actually be paying you what you deserve.
for some, it is a combination of both, as these areas of your life will be blooming. wait for it! just a little longer!
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GROUP FOUR
cards pulled · ten of cups, king of pentacles, knight of pentacles, ace of pentacles, four of wands.
channelled songs · desperado by rihanna. cry baby by megan thee stallion. punch and judy by elliott smith. good luck, babe! by chappell roan.
my dear group four  ♡ what you must know right now is that all that glitters is not gold. things are not as good as they seem, and people you are exhausting yourself for would never in their life do the same for you. 
you have idealised or romanticised a certain relationship, especially a familial relationship, and just accepted that it is normal for you to put everything you have into it. 
but what about yourself? you can only give so much to othes, before it becomes detrimental to yourself and your health. it is time to start doing more for yourself. to take care of yourself. to celebrate yourself. and, more than that, to spoil yourself. 
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hauntedbythefanficsofmypast · 2 months ago
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Not so Fake
Masterlist
Tim stationed himself in the third sitting room in the Manor. It was the closest to the kitchen, and furthest from the bedrooms and entrance of the manor. In other words, the perfect hiding spot from his overactive family that have united to try and make Tim rest. The only member that would find him right away would be Alfred, who already left him a cup of tea with a few of his cookies along with one of his laptops.
A note left on top stating that Alfred expected him to actually relax, and spotting the stickers Tim could tell this was his personal laptop. Taking Alfred seriously, Tim booted up YouTube and decided to watch his new favorite, GalacticPhantom, or Danny. He had found the channel a few months ago when one of his search engines caught a mention of Tim Drake and Red Robin being the same person.
The video in question had started off with a very well made video of the camera zooming down from a space view of the Earth to Danny’s home town, through his window and coming to a screeching halt in front of Danny and his friend Wes. The opening was highly impressive to Tim and the twenty-five minute video that followed had Tim wanting to pull his hair out.
Everything Wes said was true, completely true.
Tim was absolutely stunned and terrified because the other teen had managed to fully pull together who Red Robin was without even being in Gotham. The only thing that stopped Tim from calling a meeting about it, was that no one in the comments believed him. Instead Wes was mocked with the tried and true, ‘what do the butts match?’. He ended up watching every video under the playlist, ‘Wes the Detective’ and every single video hit right on the money but absolutely no one believed him. 
Well, no one but his friends it seemed. Tim had a couple theories about it and if it wasn’t for the fact that Wes has his identity clock he’d be staking out the town now. So he chose to stick to the theory that Wes was incredibly smart, but cursed in some way.
However today Danny had posted a new video and Tim could barely wait to watch it. The title was called ‘This thing wont leave me alone.’ and the thumbnail showed a screaming Danny holding a broom with a humanism but clearly not human girl spiderman to his ceiling seemingly hissing at him.
Tim grinned as he pressed play and settled back into the couch to watch. As the intro came to an end it found Danny in the closet of his bedroom speaking into the camera as if he was documenting his last moments.
“Hello everyone and welcome back to my channel.” He whispered softly only stopping at a noise outside the door that sounded like nails scratching against something. “What the—” the chittering of a badger interrupted him to cover his curse. “Today I’m hiding in my closet because this demon thing showed up and won’t leave me alone.” Something being knocked over in the background was heard causing Danny to freeze again. “I am taking my stand though, I have my makeshift weapon and-and I’m gonna face it. In the event that I don’t come out of this alive, Tucker you can have my Doomed character, Sam just ask them out already, Val you can sell all my stuff, and Wes I’m sorry I gaslight everyone in school that one time into thinking you weren’t real.” 
“That was—you Danny, oh you better hope you don’t survive after this!” Wes snapped from behind the camera, his curse being covered by bird chirps, and a second later Tucker’s head popped up from the bottom right screen. 
“You’re focusing on that rather than the fact Danny said that all to the screen like we weren’t even here.” Danny shushed them all dramatically holding his broom in front of him like a weapon.
“It is time. Remember me views, remember me.”
“So—dramatic.” Sam is heard but not shown on camera, soon after Danny is shown bursting out of the closet startling the humanoid creature with white hair and bright neon green eyes. 
Tim assumes the creature is one of their little siblings decked out in a creepy cosplay, a really creepy one that Sam definitely had to have a hand in making.
The girl immediately starts screeching and hissing at Danny who starts screaming back before starting to swat at her with the broom. Only for her to drop on all four and start crawling around to dodge him.
“Why won’t you stay still!!” Danny cried out as he panted slightly out of breath. The girl let out an evil cackle starting to crawl toward him and the others fast as he head began to turn to the point that it was upside down. Everything was silent before Danny began screaming hysterically while hitting the girl with the broom before she managed to jump on him and they began to fight. The video cut off right as the girl got a good hit on his nose, only to come back to Danny back in the closet with a bloody nose.
“You okay man?” Wes asked from behind the camera as Danny just stared dazed ahead. Danny turned to him, eyes unfocused as he stared at the camera.
“Do-do I call an exorcist? Do we have exorcists around us? Bro I have a demon in my house, and my parents who are ghost hunters can’t even detect it. What do I do?”
“Danny, I think she might have broken your Lego space shuttle.” Val was heard and seconds later Danny was shown back outside the closet in a screaming match with her while fist fighting and rolling all over the ground. 
“THAT LEGO SET COST ME FOUR MONTHS ALLOWANCE!!”
“I’M GOING TO MAKE YOU REGRET BREAKING IT!”
“ALL I DID WAS HIT YOU WITH A BROOM!”
The girl seemed to be responding to him in either gibberish, or a language they created. Which only seemed to anger Danny more.
“ENGLISH! SPEAK ENGLISH!!” The girl paused, stopping herself from landing a solid punch to his cheek before grinning at the confused teen.
“No.” Danny seemed stunned before anger took over again and the fight continued.
“You can_____speaking english! You____daughter of a______!!” The feed cut off before returning to Danny who was sitting on the bed of his wrecked room. The girl in question nowhere to be seen as Val cleaned some blood off Danny's cheek with a grin.
“I don’t know where she went, but I know she is still in my house. Tune in next time I find her because she better have some money to pay me back for my lego set. Thanks for stopping to watch this episode of mine and until next time, don’t let the ghosts get ya.”
“That was pretty interesting.” Dick said as he stole a cookie from Tim’s plate. “Are all his videos like that?” Tim didn’t even blink at his brother's sudden appearance as he moved to type out a comment.
“For the most part, ya. He’s a shit poster, his content is just a tun of stuff that is so outrageous and realistic but clearly not real.”
‘That fight gave off peak sibling energy. It’s giving, I’m gonna fight my sibling to the death because of one slight inconvenience.’
Jason hummed as he picked his book back up, dropping down in front of the couch to reread Pride and Prejudice. “Ya he was definitely fighting his little sister. He held back too much and she wasn’t pulling her punches.” 
“Only Drake would spend his time watching pointless videos.” Damien huffed, causing Tim to roll his eyes.
“Awe Dami, you know Tim is on mandatory rest. No work of any kind.” Dick grinned before jumping up, wrapping his arms around Damien and dragging him down onto the couch.
“Richard!! Let me go this instant!!” Damien screamed struggling to get away from his octopus of an older brother.
“No! I need my little brother cuddles and I need them from my Dami! No escape for you now.” Damian kept fighting Dick’s hold for the next twenty-five minutes while Tim put another of Danny’s videos on and rewatched it with Jason and Dick watching as well. The video in question was one where Danny went through a locker with his friends and went back in time to when his school first opened. Jason snorted, commenting on them making everything black and white. Danny meets a seemingly see-through kid named Sidney Poindexter and it ends with the two of them having a dance off.
“Bruce, why the fuck are your kids watching a video of a kid dancing with an Infinite Relams ghost?” Tim paused, staring blankly at his computer screen before turning to look at Bruce and John Constantine. “Wow holy shit, the Infinite Realms rarely interact with us since Luthor let the Anti-Ecto Acts pass. Yet that kid is interacting with one like their friends.”
“You’re saying this shits real?” Jason asked, closing his book looking at the screen more interested.
“Language Master Jason.” Alfred said as he walked in from a tray of tea for everyone.
“Sorry Alfred.” John nodded as he moved closer, eyes trained on Poindexter.
“If it is not real it is still more similar than could be possible. They’ve definitely had interactions with the Realms.”
“Wait, what are the Anti-Ecto Acts?” Tim asked his attention zeroing in on John.
“Well fuck, you don’t know? It affects like all of you, thought for sure you’d know. Shit this is gonna take so long to explain. We’re gonna have to call a JL meeting for this explanation because I’m not doing it twice.”
Of Meetings and Musings
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chiyuuchu · 3 months ago
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II. The plot twist of admiration <3 (2nd August 2024)
Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
Prompt! The class decides to make a bet with everyone writing down who they think y/n’s admirer is.
first part here!
Every story has two sides to it.
Bakugou Katsuki wasn't one to waste time on frivolous matters like romance. He had better things to do, like becoming the number one hero. But there was something about Y/N that made him act differently. Without really understanding why, he found himself wanting to make her smile, to see her happy. So, he started leaving gifts on her desk: flowers, sweets, her favorite drinks.
He watched from a distance, making sure no one noticed him. He didn't need the extra attention or the questions from his classmates. Plus, it was kind of fun seeing them guess who the secret admirer was.
“Maybe it’s Midoriya,” Mina said one day during lunch. Bakugou rolled his eyes. Of course, they'd think it was Deku. “He’s so attentive and always pays attention to what his friends like.”
Bakugou scoffed internally. Deku might be observant, but he wasn’t the one leaving the gifts. Besides, Bakugou knew exactly what Y/N liked because he paid attention, too. He wasn’t just some explosive hothead, no matter what people thought.
“I don’t know,” Tsuyu said thoughtfully. “It could be Kirishima. He seems like a romantic guy.”
Bakugou almost laughed out loud at that. Sure, Kirishima was his best friend, but he wasn’t the one sneaking around. And IcyHot? The guy was about as emotionally expressive as a block of ice. He was also certainly sure the bird brain was too kept to self to like someone.
As days went by, Bakugou continued to leave gifts. He saw Y/N's smile every time she found something new on her desk, and it made his heart swell in a way he didn’t quite understand. One evening, he went to the convenience store to get her favorite drink. When he returned to the dorms, he saw Y/N in the kitchen, looking frustrated.
“What’s got you all worked up?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.
“Someone must have taken my favorite drink. I was really looking forward to it.,” she sighed.
He scoffed, pulling the drink out of his plastic bag. “Here. I just bought a few. Don’t make such a fuss.” he said, tossing it to her. Before she could say anything. Bakugou just takes his leave with a huff. “Whatever. I’m outta here.”
When he reached his bedroom, he immediately covered his face. The heat which had rushed to his face earlier swallowed him whole. His heart was pounding.
The next day, he left another gift on her desk. This time, it was a box of her favorite pastries. He'd gone out of his way to get them from a bakery across town. Bakugou watched from a distance, smirking to himself as Y/N smiled.
During lunch, the girls were really pushing their theories about who it could be.
“It’s gotta be someone who’s been paying close attention,” Mina says, thinking maybe too hard. “Maybe it’s still Midoriya?”
“Or Kirishima,” Momo claimed. “What if the other day he said it wasn’t him was an act.”
“Or Todoroki,” Kirishima chuckled heartily. “He’s always so polite and thoughtful.”
“Or maybe Sero,” said Hagakure. “He could be into you, who knows.”
Bakugou couldn't help but roll his eyes again. It was almost laughable how off their guesses were. As Y/N's smile grew wider with each gift, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction. He wanted to be the one who made her happy, even if he had to do it from the shadows.
While Y/n slowly looks over and locks eyes with Bakugou, he couldn’t help but give her his genuine smile. A smile that was only for her.
Bakugou continued his secret gifting for another week, each time feeling a mix of pride and frustration. One evening, after another exhausting day of training, he was about to head back to his dorm room when he noticed Y/N sitting alone on the couch in the common area, looking contemplative. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to approach her.
"Hey," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Y/N looked up, her face lighting up with a smile. "Hey, Bakugou."
He sat down next to her, unsure of what to say next. They sat in silence for a few moments before Y/N spoke again.
"You know," she began, her voice soft, "I've been getting these really sweet gifts lately. Flowers, sweets, drinks... It's been really nice."
Bakugou's heart pounded in his chest. He tried to keep his expression neutral. "Yeah? You figure out who it is yet?"
Y/N shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Not yet. But I think I have an idea."
Bakugou felt a lump form in his throat. He wanted to tell her, to admit that it was him, but the words seemed to stick. Before he could muster up the courage, Y/N turned to him, her eyes bright with curiosity.
"What about you, Bakugou? Have you ever done something like this for someone?"
He snorted, trying to deflect. "What, leave gifts and play secret admirer? Not my style."
Y/N laughed softly. "I didn't think so. But you never know. People can surprise you."
She definitely knows. He gulped internally.
Bakugou swallowed hard, feeling a surge of determination. "Yeah, well... maybe I have a few surprises up my sleeve."
Y/N tilted her head, studying him with an amused expression. "Is that so?"
Her phone began ringing. “Oh, I gotta take this call. Thanks for the chat, Bakugou.” She smiled and walked away.
Before Bakugou could respond, a loud crash came from the kitchen area, followed by Kirishima's voice shouting about a spilled pot.
As she walked away, Bakugou watched her go, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. He knew he needed to find the right moment, but it was hard to say when that would be. He stood up, ready to head to his room, when Kirishima came rushing over, a huge grin on his face.
"Dude, guess what!" Kirishima exclaimed. "Everyone's trying to figure out who Y/N's secret admirer is. You gotta see this."
Bakugou rolled his eyes but followed Kirishima back to the Kitchen area, where a group of their classmates were gathered, excitedly discussing their theories.
"I'm telling you, it's got to be Todoroki," Hagakure was saying. "He's always so calm and collected. It fits."
"No way," Kaminari argued. "It's definitely Tokoyami. He's mysterious enough to pull this off."
“What the hell is everyone making a fuss about?” Bakugou grumbled.
“Oh! Hey man, we were just placing bets on who Y/n’s secret admirer could be.” Kaminari casually said. “My bets on Tokoyami.” He proudly claimed. And why exactly was he proud of his assumption?
“Well I think it’s Midoriya!” Mina folded her arms with an angry closed eyed pout.
Momo also chimed in. “I still think that it’s Kirishima and that he’s secretly deceiving us that it isn’t him.” Kirishima who was beside her folded his arms. “Hey! It isn’t me, you’ll lose your money for betting on it!” He, once again defended himself.
“What if it was a girl and we were deceived the entire time.” Jirou randomly put a a finger to her chin, looking up in thought. “Hmm.” She hummed in thought. Right after that, everyone did the same with putting their finger on their chins and humming in thought.
“I know! We should settle this bet by asking everyone to write down on this paper who they think it is. Winner takes all.” Kaminari smugly said, pulling a piece of paper out.
“Oh, you’re on pikachu!” Mina retorted.
Bakugou mentally wanted to facepalm. But then he thought about it. If he were to guess himself then wouldn’t he technically be the winner of the bet?
“Whatever, you losers do what you fucking want.” Bakugou said and walked back to his room. “Hey! Where you going? You need to bet too!” Kaminari exclaimed. “Yeah yeah, just give it to me tomorrow. I need to catch some fucking sleep.” Was the last thing Bakugou said before heading back to his room.
The next morning, the classroom was full with chatter during a break between lessons. Kaminari, ever the instigator, was bouncing around with a piece of paper and a pen.
"Alright, guys, everyone write down who you think Y/N's secret admirer is! Everyone is betting! Winner takes all!" he announced, waving the paper in the air.
Y/n just gave a confused expression before going back to her book.
One by one, the students scribbled down their guesses and passed the paper around. When it finally reached Bakugou, he glanced at the eager faces around him and scowled.
"I'll do it later," he muttered, snatching the paper and shoving it into his bag.
"Aw, come on, Bakugou!" Kaminari protested. "Just write it down real quick!"
Bakugou ignored him, standing up and heading out of the classroom as the bell rang, signaling the end of their break. Kaminari pouted but didn't push further, knowing better than to press Bakugou when he was in a mood.
Later that evening, Bakugou sat in his dorm room, the crumpled piece of paper lying on his desk. He sighed, unfolding it and smoothing it out to see the various guesses scrawled in different handwriting.
He couldn't help but scoff at some of the guesses.
Uraraka: "I bet it's Sero. He’s always pulling pranks but he's got a sweet side."
Todoroki: "Maybe it's Kirishima. He’s very straightforward."
Kirishima: "Nah, it's gotta be Midoriya. He's so considerate."
Midoriya: "My best guess would be Kirishima… He definitely seems like that type of guy."
Yaoyorozu: "I still think it's Kirishima."
Ashido: "I know it’s Midoriya."
Tsu: "I change my mind, I’m placing my bet on Kaminari."
Jirou: "I guess it might be Kaminari. He’s got a fun personality and is always trying to cheer everyone up."
Aoyama: "It could be Iida. Je sais cela!"
Sero: "Maybe it's Shoji. He's very attentive and protective."
Tokoyami: "I assume it might be Todoroki. He's very observant and quiet."
Hagakure: "My bet is still on Todoroki!"
Iida: "I believe it's Kaminari. He’s always energetic and caring."
Shoji: "It might be Iida."
Ojiro: "I think it could be Aoyama. He’s always trying to make everyone feel special."
Koda: "I think it’s Midoriya..."
Mineta: "It's definitely someone unexpected, maybe Jirou. She's got that vibe. And who knows? Girls on girls!"
Sato: "What if it's Mina? She's really unpredictable."
Kaminari: "I still think it's Tokoyami! Imagine that!"
Aizawa: "Bakugou Katsuki."
Even the teacher???
Bakugou paused at Aizawa’s guess, feeling a strange mix of annoyance and satisfaction.
"Idiots," he muttered to himself. "They have no idea."
Aggressively scribbling on the piece of paper, he carelessly folds it.
But as he lay in bed that night, his thoughts drifted to Y/N. He imagined the smile on her face when she received his gifts and how her eyes sparkled when she spoke about them. It gave him a strange sense of accomplishment that none of his training victories ever did.
The next day in class, Kaminari eagerly retrieved the paper from Bakugou and prepared to read the guesses. However, just as he was about to open it, everyone began to question how they would find out who the admirer really was.
"How are we actually gonna figure out who it is?" Midoriya asked, looking around the room.
Suddenly, Mina stood up and yelled, "Whoever the admirer is, you have to come clean now because we've all placed bets already, and I'm sure Y/N is interested."
Silence. Everyone was looking at each other, trying to see if the admirer would step up.
Bakugou gulped, feeling a surge of panic.
Then Hagakure made a suggestion. "Why don't we make it more fun? Y/N should write down on another piece of paper who she wants her admirer to be."
For some reason, Y/N agreed willingly. She took a piece of paper and began to write a name. Bakugou watched her, rethinking his life decisions. If he admitted his feelings now and wasn't the one she wanted, he would never live it down.
Y/N finished writing, folded the paper, and kept it to herself.
“Wait I have an idea!” Tsu said and whispered something into Mina’s ear.
"Alright then," Mina said with determination. "Everyone who is NOT the admirer, sit down."
Slowly, one by one, the students sat down until only Bakugou remained standing with his eyes shut tight.
The room filled with gasps and murmurs of confusion.
"Bakugou?!" Kaminari exclaimed, wide-eyed.
“KACCHAN??” Izuku exclaimed.
"No way," Kirishima muttered, shaking his head. "Bakugou, seriously?"
"I lost my bet!" Sero groaned, throwing his hands up in the air.
"Wait, Bakugou's the secret admirer?" Uraraka asked, her eyes darting between him and Y/N.
Jirou smirked. "Well, this just got interesting."
“I certainly did not expect this..” Momo’s voice sounded.
Some students complained about losing their bets, while others were simply shocked. Bakugou's heart pounded in his chest. After a moment of silence, he heard the sound of a paper unfolding.
More gasps filled the room.
"You can open your eyes, Bakugou," Y/N said softly.
Bakugou's heart sank. What if his name wasn't on the paper?
He opened his eyes and saw Y/N holding the paper.
Bakugou Katsuki
His heart soared when he saw his name written on it. A wave of relief and happiness washed over him as the class erupted in a mix of congratulations and disbelief. He had never been this terrified in his life, but it was all worth it.
“Very unexpected, I must say.” Iida said.
"Well, who would've thought?" Mina laughed, nudging Kirishima.
"Guess we all underestimated Bakugou," Tokoyami said with a rare smile.
"Congrats, man," Kirishima said, patting Bakugou on the back. "Took some real guts."
Bakugou, his face slightly flushed, just nodded, trying to maintain his usual tough demeanor. But inside, he was over the moon.
“Wait! It’s not over! Who won the bet?” Sero yelled, immediately grabbing everyone’s attention.
Kaminari hurriedly opens the paper.
Uraraka: "I bet it's Sero. He’s always pulling pranks but he's got a sweet side."
Todoroki: "Maybe it's Kirishima. He’s very straightforward."
Kirishima: "Nah, it's gotta be Midoriya. He's so considerate."
Midoriya: "My best guess would be Kirishima… He definitely seems like that type of guy."
Yaoyorozu: "I still think it's Kirishima."
Ashido: "I know it’s Midoriya."
Tsu: "I change my mind, I’m placing my bet on Kaminari."
Jirou: "I guess it might be Kaminari. He’s got a fun personality and is always trying to cheer everyone up."
Aoyama: "It could be Iida. Je sais cela!"
Sero: "Maybe it's Shoji. He's very attentive and protective."
Tokoyami: "I assume it might be Todoroki. He's very observant and quiet."
Hagakure: "My bet is still on Todoroki!"
Iida: "I believe it's Kaminari. He’s always energetic and caring."
Shoji: "It might be Iida."
Ojiro: "I think it could be Aoyama. He’s always trying to make everyone feel special."
Koda: "I think it’s Midoriya..."
Mineta: "It's definitely someone unexpected, maybe Jirou. She's got that vibe. And who knows? Girls on girls!"
Sato: "What if it's Mina? She's really unpredictable."
Kaminari: "I still think it's Tokoyami! Imagine that!"
Aizawa: "Bakugou Katsuki.”
Bakugou: "Bakugou Katsuki."
“Bakugou won? Isn’t that technically cheating..” Momo said with a concerned look.
“Technically that means I won. Now pay up.” Aizawa said from his sleeping bag.
“Ughhhhhhhhh.”
After the class settled down from the surprising outcome, Bakugou found a moment to approach Y/N. He was still trying to process the whirlwind of emotions from the earlier scene.
"Hey," he started, his voice gruff but softer than usual. "Can we talk?"
Y/N looked up and smiled. "Sure, Bakugou. What's up?"
He led her outside of the classroom, away from the curious gazes of their classmates. The tension between them was palpable, but Bakugou tried to ignore the nervous flutter in his chest.
"So, you actually picked me," he said, struggling to keep his usual confident tone. "Why?"
Y/N’s eyes softened as she looked at him. "Well, I've always noticed you’re not as rough as you seem. There’s a lot more to you that people don't see. I appreciate that you always seemed to care, even if you don’t show it."
Bakugou’s face flushed slightly, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d ever actually like me. Not with how everyone talks about me."
Y/N shook her head, a playful smile on her lips. "You’re more than what people say, Bakugou. And I’m glad I got to know that."
Bakugou hesitated for a moment before stepping a bit closer. "So, what now? Now that everyone knows?"
Y/N's smile grew, and she looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye. "I think we should see where this goes. I’m happy with how things are turning out."
Bakugou’s usual scowl softened into a genuine smile, and he took a deep breath. "Yeah, me too."
They stood there for a moment, the noise of the classroom fading into the background as they enjoyed the rare, peaceful connection between them. It was the start of something new, and for once, Bakugou felt that he might just be ready to embrace it.
914 notes · View notes
gghostwriter · 5 months ago
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[Requests are closed]
Hi, you can call me Pau. I’m in my 20s and a self proclaimed spencer reid writer and a closeted aaron hotchner girl. My askbox is always open for questions and yapping.
Disclaimer: All one shots and requests are written in fem!reader but my two series are fem!oc
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One shots
Angst
Death of a Love Affair [sad] ↳ The three times you understood and the final time you couldn’t. Still Alive for My Lover [happy] ↳ The four times Spencer brushes with death and the fifth time he’s reborn to find his way back to you Dead Man Walking [sad] ↳ The three times memories of his broken promises plagued Spencer’s mind and the final time he’s faced with the consequences Poison Me, I'm Fine [sad] ↳ Your choice of poison was Spencer Reid. Who knew he would kill you and set you free in the process Knots of Yearning ↳ Spencer lies by omission or in which Spencer acts like he doesn’t know how to tie a tie just to get you to do it for him A Series of Happenstance ↳ The three times Spencer loathed to see you and the one time he pleaded to
Fluff
You’re the Risk, I’ll Take it ↳ The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't. Language of Devotion ↳ You caught Spencer learning a new skill—your native language One Single Thread of Gold ↳ The 3 times Penelope tries to solve a Spencer Reid riddle and the 1 time she (and the team) meet the reason behind all the changes. Camaraderie ↳ Spencer and some unwanted guests catch you singing at a bad time Wanted: A Gentleman ↳ Your lovely group of friends, Penelope, JJ, and Emily, set you up with your perfect match If You Love Me Right ↳ Emily asks an all important question regarding the next step of your relationship with Spencer Whispered Truths ↳ Your weekly reading club with boyfriend, Spencer Reid, has never been as sweet and life-changing as this night Lips of a Gentleman ↳ A spontaneous museum date alters your relationship with Spencer for the better The Language of Flowers ↳ Spencer prepares a personalized gift for his first date with you Level-One Intruder ↳ Spencer apprehends an unexpected but adorable trespasser
Comfort
Deepest Fear ↳ Spencer wakes from a nightmare and you comfort him Out of Sunshine ↳ Having forgotten your dinner date, Spencer comforts his usually sunshine girlfriend Have Your Cake ↳ Spencer notices a change in you that he tries to address Time is a Fickle Thing ↳ Spencer realizes how important it is to occupy the present and be active in the little things
Mini Series
A Series of Happenstance [1] ↳ Spencer Reid x House!Daughter!Reader One Single Thread of Gold [1] [2] ↳ Spencer Reid x Fashion!Reader
Series
Entangled Strings of Fate - Fem!OC x Spencer [ongoing] Caltech, Pasadena - Cleo considers herself a woman of logic With an IQ of 158 and an eidetic memory, how could she not. But meeting Spencer, the boy genius to hers, had her believing in intangible theories like the invisible string and the fates itself. Now, if only he would notice the depth of her feelings. Trope - Friends to Lovers; Eventual Romance Last update - Sept 26 [chapter 8] ; Next update - tba
Yours Truly, Romeo - Fem!OC x Spencer [finished] Washington, DC - A string of grizzly murders and obsessive love letters causes Olivia and Spencer’s paths to intertwine. With a serial killer proclaiming his undying devotion to her and the thick tension surrounding her and her agent turned bodyguard, Olivia’s life is writing out like a contemporary love story that she, as a successful writer, could see herself publishing. Trope - Strangers to Lovers, Mystery, Romance
Requests.
💗 fluff || 💥 angst || 💧hurt/comfort
Hallucinate 💗 ↳ Spencer gets in one accident and thinks you are more than a friend. He believes you're his wife. Blackout 💗 ↳ Spencer finds you passed out on the bathroom floor Phantasmagoria 💗 ↳ Due to an injury, you mistakenly believe Spencer's your husband Birds of a Feather 💗 ↳ Spencer catches you drawing him and he shyly poses for it Bundle of Nerves 💗 ↳ You pass out during work hours and Spencer worriedly rushes to see you Ice Princess 💗 ↳ You take down an unsub and the team finds out a truth about you Sentencing 💗💧 ↳ Spencer (and team) support you during a court hearing His 💗💥 ↳ You visit Spencer in prison and he reacts to the lewd remarks thrown your way Cherished 💗 ↳ Spencer arrives home to a very sweet surprise Down Under 💗 ↳ Spencer questions your colorful vocabulary and it's meaning Cocoa Powder 💗 ↳ While Spencer is in prison, you discover a secret Eden 💗 💥 ↳ Spencer worries for his roommate [based on 'Eden' by Hozier] Curveball 💗 ↳ Spencer proposes in the middle of chasing an unsub Special Diet 💗 ↳ You, a certified wine connoisseur, say no to a glass of wine and in which the team reacts to Rewriting History 💗 💥 ↳ Spencer takes you as his date to his high school reunion In the Ether 💗 ↳ You and Spencer frolic in the countryside fields Lightweight 💗 ↳ Spencer introduces you, a professional wrestler, to his found family
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503 notes · View notes
lovecanyon · 5 months ago
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MIKE FAIST X Y/N: A SOCIAL MEDIA AU
part one
➙ y/n works under A24 as a production assistant. she’s worked on films such as Pearl, X, Lady Bird, Hereditary and most recently Challengers where she met her partner Mike Faist.
(A24 didn’t produce Challengers but in this situation they did)
-
TMZ
Mike Faist Spotted in Los Angeles with Mystery Girl: Fans Buzz Over Actor’s New Romance
Mike Faist, the breakout star from "Challengers," was recently seen in Los Angeles with an unidentified woman, sparking a flurry of speculation among his fans. The actor appeared relaxed and happy as he enjoyed a casual outing.
As photos of the pair began circulating online, Faist's fans took to social media, attempting to uncover the identity of the girl who has seemingly captured the heart of the beloved star. Twitter and Instagram were lit with theories, with some fans speculating that she might be a fellow actor or someone from Faist’s inner circle. Despite their best detective efforts, no concrete information has surfaced about the mystery girl.
READ MORE!
PEOPLE MAGAZINE
Mike Faist and Mystery Girl Rumored to Be Dating. Sources Say the Pair Is Going Strong
Hollywood’s latest heartthrob, Mike Faist, has set the rumor mill abuzz after multiple sightings with a mystery woman in Los Angeles. Sources close to the actor reveal that the pair is indeed dating and have been going strong for a while now, much to the delight, and curiosity, of Faist’s dedicated fans.
The couple was first spotted a few weeks ago, enjoying a casual day out in L.A., sparking speculation about their relationship status.
An insider close to Faist confirmed to People, “Mike and his girlfriend have been together for a few months now. They’ve been keeping things low-key but are definitely very happy. She’s been a great support for him, especially with all the attention from his recent success.”
The insider added, “Mike is very protective of his personal life, but he’s also really happy right now. Those close to him can see how much this relationship means to him.”
READ MORE!
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faistupdates Mike Faist in Los Angeles last night!
view all comments
faistfan45 who’s that girl???
user202 we can barley see him 😭😭 was this taken on a microwave
user30 give mike some privacy omg
faistfan112 that man hates the paparazzi leave him aloneeee
faistfan40 i think he’s with his girlfriend
TWITTER:
💫 mike faist (future oscar winner) - @faistfever
omg…tell me why my sister just saw mike and his girlfriend 😭😭
1:53 PM 6/4/2024 From Earth
↳ sammy <3 - @ooconnorstar
ARE U LYING??? HELLOOO
1:54 PM 6/4/2024 From Earth
↳ 💫 mike faist (future tony winner) - @faistfever
NO. THEY WERE LITERALLY AT A CAFE TOGETHER. LOOKKK
[photo of mike & y/n holding hands at a cafe]
1:57 PM 6/4/2024 From Earth
↳ sammy <3 - @ooconnorstar
I PLANNED THIS!!! MIKE’S BOYFRIEND ERA
[olivia wilde nodding gif]
1:58 PM 6/4/2024 From Earth
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liked by user178, faistfan44 and 15,920 others
pagesix Mike Faist and his rumored girlfriend were seen in Los Angeles yesterday having lunch together. Sources tell us that they could not stop staring at each other and kept holding hands across their table.
view all comments
faistfan78 MIKE IS IN HIS BOYFRIEND ERA OMFG
user116 my man who doesn’t know he’s my man is TAKEN??!! 😟
faistfan51 that’s literally me? what are you talking about?
user26 SHE IS SO LUCKY, WHOEVER SHE IS
faistfan99 i think she worked on the set of challengers with mike? i might be wrong idk
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liked by faistfan66, faistfan143 and 102,110 others
deuxmoi DeuxMoi Exclusive: The Truth Behind Mike Faist and Y/N L/N’s Love Story Unveiled!
We’ve got the inside scoop on Hollywood's newest power couple! Sources have spilled the beans that Mike Faist, the star of "Challengers," and the mystery girl who has been revealed as Y/N L/N, a production assistant under A24, are officially an item. But wait, it gets even juicier!
Y/N, whose impressive resume includes work on several A24 hits like “Pearl,” “X,” and “Lady Bird,” first crossed paths with Mike on the set of “Challengers.” It was he who reportedly made the bold first move, sparking what would soon blossom into a full blown romance.
While both have maintained a level of privacy when it comes to their personal lives, insiders insist that Mike and Y/N are in it for the long haul.
view all comments
faistfan63 leave this poor girl alone
user21 HER AND MIKE MAKE SUCH A CUTE COUPLE
fan112 he could do better tbh
faistfan87 you are insane and crazy
user73 i hope none of his fans attack her now…
faistfan125 y/n is drop dead gorgeous 😭
user104 ohhh she’s so successful omggg
DEUXMOI - 6/5/2024
Sent via form submission from Deuxmoi
Pseudonyms, please: ANON
Subject: A24’s Iconic Couple
Message: Fans have been dying to know whose Mike’s mystery girl is and now we know! Y/N has worked on some major A24 hits like "Pearl," "Hereditary," and "Lady Bird." Looks like Mike was the one who made the first move and they've been inseparable ever since.
DEUXMOI - 6/8/2024 - SPOTTED
Saw Mike and his girlfriend at a pilates class today! He is definitely in love with her, they kept laughing and grinning at each other. He also gave her his sweater after the class!!
TIKTOK:
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faistangels: she is so gorgeous, i am blown away 😭😭
comments:
joshofaist i don’t know if i need mike or her
7.1K likes
artsdonaldsins AND SHE WAS A THEATRE KID…MIKE REALLY FOUND HIS MATCH 🙏🙏
6.5K likes
dayaconnor y/n is so cool omg
6.2K likes
mikesendaya i will defend her with my heart
5.9K likes
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liked by faistfan89, user106 and 10,729 others
mikefaistdaily A new photo resurfaced of Mike Faist’s girlfriend Y/N wearing a ‘I Told Ya’ shirt from the film Challengers.
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user53 OMGG she is so gorgeous
faistfan12 fans literally leaked her instagram photos. pls take this down.
faistfan62 people need to leave her alone, she’s just trying to live…
user73 y/n is so iconic goodbye
faistfan206 “resurfaced” or leaked??
user122 SHE IS THE MOMENT 💅
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liked by user12, faistfan57 and 12,120 others
m.faistnews NEW/OLD! Mike on the set of Challengers! via yourinstagram
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user88 SOMEONE SEDATE ME
faistfan102 just imagine all the other pics of mike y/n has in her phone 😭😭
user106 DON’T LET ME THINK OF THAT
user29 y/n is really living that dream life
faistfan101 wanna be her so bad
user33 she’s just riding on mike’s fame…
faistfan64 girl be serious 🙄🙄
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liked by user165, faistfan78 and 8,401 others
faistojosh Y/N has removed followers after her photos on Instagram got leaked!
view all comments
user60 please leave this girl alone…we don’t know her
faistfan66 i’m sorry but y/n leaving dailyfaist as one of her followers has me 😭😭
dailyfaist THAT’S BESTIE!! me and her are like this 🤞
faistfan153 i just know mike knows your account exists!!
dailyfaist I NEED A CIGARETTE
user121 posting this is just bringing more attention to it…
(1/10)
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rachelzegler it’s hot girl summer
view all comments
faistfan15 RACHEL AND Y/N KNOW EACH OTHER??!
faistfan132 mike probably introduced them omgg
arianadebose Literally the love of my life 🩷
user101 attention seekingggg
ayoedebiri I love women!!!
faistfan212 y/n literally wants approval from all of mike’s friends 😭
rachelzegler mike would absolutely hate you btw!!! get a life
faistfan170 RACHEL DEFENDING Y/N 🙏🙏 I LOVE TO SEE IT
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liked by faistfan53, user202 and 16,091 others
mike.faistnews Y/N’s IG post about Mike’s first Met Gala! 🤍
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user107 SOMEONE KILL ME PLS THIS IS NOT OKAY
faistfan66 baby’s first met 😭😭😭
faistfan117 is this why mike didn’t go to the after party…y/n was back at the hotel so he skipped the party to hang out with her…😩
user61 he is so obsessed with her
faistfan133 every mike faist fan was found dead
user99 they are so adorable
faistfan145 the way this post was not meant to see the light of day
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liked by rachelzegler, hunterschafer and 151 others
yourinstagram mikey ♑️
view all comments
daisyedgarjones You two are the cutest
arianadebose I LOVE YOU GUYSS 🤍🤍🤍
yourinstagram we love you ari!
rachelzegler you guys are seriously my parents
joshographee Looks like he died.
yourinstagram that’s what he said lol
tomholland2013 Me and Z say hiii!!
TWITTER:
lea 🎾 - @mmfaistss
y/n met his family omg
[fan photo of y/n with his family out having dinner in ohio]
6:01 PM 6/11/24 From Earth
↳ 💫 mike faist (future oscar winner) - @faistfever
god i hope so. FUTURE Y/N FAIST
6:10 PM 6/11/24 From Earth
---
gossip girl - @ggirltea
Deuxmoi said Mike has Y/N as his lockscreen 😍
[fan photo of mike’s phone lockscreen]
7:20 PM 6/12/24 From Earth
↳ film junkie - @moviemadnessss
they’re seriously the cutest.
7:25 PM 6/12/24 From Earth
---
blind item sleuth - @blindsolvers
Deuxmoi hinted at Y/N and Mike buying a house in Ohio together soon 👀 they are taking things real serious!
8:00 PM 6/14/24 From Earth
↳ drama queen - @dramaalertts
omg if it’s true i will cry! they’re perfect for each other!
8:05 PM 6/14/24 From Earth
---
pop culture guru - @popculturedailyss
UPDATE: Y/N and Mike seen holding hands in Los Angeles again today
[paparazzi photo of Y/N and Mike]
9:15 PM 6/15/24 From Earth
↳ fan girl - @fangirlss4ev
I’m here for the Mike and Y/N romance era!!!!
9:25 PM 6/15/24 From Earth
---
hollywood whisperer - @hollywoodwhisp
DM confirmed Mike Faist met Y/N’s family last weekend 💕
[family photo of Mike and Y/N]
10:00 PM 6/16/24 From Earth
↳ star gazer - @stargazingfan
meeting the family already?! this is definitely getting serious 😭😭
10:05 PM 6/16/24 From Earth
↳ celebrity updates - @celebritybuzz
they’re totally endgame!!!! future Mr. and Mrs. Faist!
10:10 PM 6/16/24 From Earth
---
tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @agustdpeach @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @youusunshineyoutemptress @cherryfragrancx @milkiane @golden-hoax @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @lomlolivia @honethatty12
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ash5monster01 · 7 months ago
Text
Cold Spring Harbor
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Chapter One - She’s Got A Way 🎶
Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader
Warnings: fluff, instant attraction, invisible string theory, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, coping mechanisms
Summary: Just when Steve figures he’s bound to be alone the rest of his life, somehow he finds you, and for some reason just being near you makes him feel much less alone in the world.
word count: 2k
→ Two
Masterlist
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Spring 1985
She's got a way of showin', how I make her feel
Steve hated being sad. Yet for the last six months that was all he had felt. He should be over it by now. He wished he was over it, but everyday he went to school just to see Nancy with Johnathon and know everything that he lost. He had given up his friends for her, and when she gave him up for Johnathon, he had no one left. No happy family to come home to, and no friends to spend time with, especially no girlfriend to love. Maybe that was why it was so hard to get over her, because she was the only person he had left and she left him too.
So he woke up on the first day of spring break, no parents, no plans, no one at all. It didn’t matter that the first warm sun was shining through his window and the birds chirped happily outside. He figured he would always be alone and he was still just as miserable as before. The only person he did have was Dustin but how many times can you ask a middle schooler to hang out before it gets weird? Steve didn’t want to find out.
He wasn’t going to last all of spring break like this so he was going to do the only thing that made him feel better. The only thing that gave him enough motivation to get out of bed and get ready for the day. So it’s not long until he is walking out the front door and towards his car. Yet before he unlocked it he stopped, eyes glancing into the bright blue sky, and deciding against the drive. It was sunny and almost seventy, plus a walk would be good for him. So he stuffed the keys back in his pocket and started down the road.
Town was half empty once he got there, signs showing that the new mall being built was already taking away business. It was sad to see the town that once was so busy become a shell of nothing. Kind of like him he supposed. Yet the sight of the familiar blue door eased his mind as he pushed in the one place he hoped would be here forever.
“Hey man, long time no see” Ron, the owner smiles from behind the register. Steve matches the smile right back even though he doesn’t feel it. He wished he did.
“Hey Ron, how’s business been?” he asks, eyeing the various shelves throughout the room.
“I wish I could say busy, but ever since word got out that Sam Goody was being built in the mall, no one really cares about Ron’s Records anymore” he says and Steve nods, his throat tightening at the thought.
“I’m sorry about that man, you know I’ll be a customer for life” he tells him and Ron nods, smiling at the boys kindness.
“You and your Grandpa both” Ron says kindly and Steve has to look away before tears form in his eyes.
“I’m gonna check some records out” Steve tells him and Ron nods as he moves to the section he knows it will be at.
Finally reaching the B’s his fingers start skimming the records. It feels like he’s passed a hundred Barry Manilow records by the time he reaches exactly what he’s looking for. Smiling to himself he scans which ones are there, determined what would be the best to listen to. Something that for an entire forty minutes could make him feel much less lonely in this world.
“Billy Joel huh?” Steve looks up and nearly freezes. There you are, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, and something about the world stops. He’s not one to be shy but it’s as if the words somehow can’t leave his mouth. There was just something about you. “Since when do boys your age listen to Billy Joel?”
“Hey, he’s still rock n’ roll to me” Steve defends, and it’s cheesy. He knows that, but it doesn’t stop you from laughing. You’re wearing the most perfect smile he’s ever seen and he wants to make you do it again.
“I’m not saying he isn’t, just most guys these days don’t know good music anymore” you say, pulling the record out of his hands and he almost gasps at the way your fingers feel against his.
“Well good music to me is just Billy, always has been” he says and you give him a small nod, smile still on your face. He briefly wonders what it could be about you that makes him suddenly so content.
“Cold Spring Harbor? I don’t think I’ve ever heard it” you say and Steve’s heart clenches.
“It’s his first album, he was only 22 when he wrote it. It’s one of my favorites” Steve tells you and the mischievous grin you give him makes his heart stutter in his chest.
“Well let’s listen to it” you tell him, hand grabbing his own, and leading him to the front of the building. In the front window there’s two chairs and small record player in between. They had been there for as long as Steve could remember, he had sat in them hundreds of times. He sits in his, the one chair he always sat in, and you sit, well in the other. His throat dries as he sees you sit across from him in the chair that had been empty for many years.
“What’s your favorite track?” you muse, hands delicately working to pull the record from its sleeve and place it on the player.
"The first one, She's Got A Way. It was my Grandpa's favorite, the first Billy song he ever played me" Steve says, looking off onto the rows and rows of records. Remembering a time when he was just short enough to be the same height as them. Rushing around and looking for the most colorful covers while his Grandpa went straight to the B's. Then he'd sit in the very chair he was now, ankles just barely hanging over the edge as his Grandpa played him song after song, in the very seat you were sitting in now.
"So that's where it comes from" you muse, the record spinning as you turn on the machine. Steve watches as you set the needle on the record, sratching till it finds its groove, and fills the silence between you both.
"Why is it his favorite?" you ask after a few moments, watching the boy as he let's the words sink in.
"He claimed it was the only song he ever heard that perfectly described how he felt about my Grandmother. How the right women could completley turn you around and heal you when you least expect it" Steve smiles fondly as he repeats those words he hadn't in a very long time.
"A charmer, I'm sure you are too" you say and the shocked look Steve wears has you laughing lightly. It takes Steve only a second to laugh along with you, realizing just how quickly you had revealed him. It's when your laughter calms he realizes the smile on your face has eased his heart more in the last six months than anything else.
"If you must know" Steve says and you giggle again which has Steve wanting to spend more and more time with you.
"Where is this Grandpa of yours, I have a few questions for him?" you ask and Steve freezes, not expecting the words to leave your mouth. It takes him a moment to respond and you sense the discomfort and place your hand on his own. Steve nearly jumps at the electric touch that comes from it.
"He passed away when I was fifteen, right before high school" he tells you, throat tightening around the admittance.
"I'm so sorry, that's awful" you try to comfort but Steve just smiles.
"You would have loved him though. Everyone did. He was my best friend, the only family I really had that spent time with me. Since my Grandma passed when I was ten, me and him made sure to spend all of middle school together" Steve isn't entirely sure why he is telling you this, he just knows your the first person he has been this comfortable around since his Grandpa and he didn't even know your name yet. He didn’t know what it was about you but he figured there didn't need to be a reason.
"That's so sweet, he sounds so special" you tell him and Steve nods, recalling memories he hadn't allowed himself to think about for years.
"He was, just wish he was still around. He was the only person to ever be there for me, front row at every swim meet and basketball game. Was hard going through highschool knowing he was no longer in the stands, but Billy. Well that's all me and him ever talked about. So sometimes, on days like today when I miss him a little extra, I find him in the lyrics of a song" and your heart soars for the boy in front of you. A boy with a deep sadness buried within him. A boy the world hadn't given a chance yet.
"Is he there right now?" you can't help but ask, the last few lines of the song coming through the speakers on the machine. Steve listens, can practically see his Grandpa yelling at him for not making a move. ‘At least ask her name’ he groans and Steve chuckles lightly to himself.
"Yeah he's here. He always is" Steve says and you give him a smile that somehow heals him. "I'm Steve by the way"
"Nice to meet you Steve" you tell him before offering your own name and Steve finds it rattling through his head, the most beautiful name in all of existence, and somehow it belongs to you. The very girl who showed up while he was feeling down and has inspired him without a sound. The beginning notes of You Can Make Me Free fill the silence between you both and Steve sits up, realizing your hand is still atop his own.
"Sorry for spilling my guts" Steve says and you shake your head, wanting him to know that he had done nothing wrong this entire time.
"Don't be, it actually happens a lot. I seem to make people very comfortable. Guess I just got a way about me" and Steve agrees because somehow in just this short exchange you have inspired him to keep on going, reminded him that this is not the end and it won't be all bad. It is like you have some bright light around you and it gives him the strength to keep going.
"Would you maybe want to go get something to eat?" Steve finds the confidence to ask and you beam a smile brightly back at him.
"I'd love to Steve" you tell him, using his name like it now somehow belongs to you and Steve wishes it does. A million dreams of love surrounding you and for the first time since Nancy he finds himself feeling something for a girl he never thought he'd feel again. He just knows he no longer wants to live without you.
"Have fun you two" Ron calls out as you both exit, the record still playing as you both leave it behind. You talk the whole way to the small diner in town, Steve just smiles and listens, loving how everything sounds the way it comes out your mouth. It's as if every word lifts him up as you are walking.
For the rest of the day Steve does his part getting to know you. Making you laugh and flirting where necessary which never fails to make you blush. The sight of your red cheeks alone make his heart soar for you. It's cute the way you show it, exactly how you feel about him. In return you do find yourself charmed by the very boy you couldn’t resist talking to. You wondered where a sweet boy like him had been your whole life and for the first time you aren't as embarassed by the blush on your cheeks as you normally would be.
"I really like you Rosy" he says matter of fact, the nickname falling easily from his lips. You blush at his words again, shaking your head at the boy you figure you aren't getting rid of anytime soon.
"I like you too Steve"
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Taglist: @slvtforstve @keerygal @goosy-goose @livsters @blckburd @loveshotzz @ohwauwdoritos @superblysubpar @southereads @amataadriana @violet2022 @mxrcjqckspnchqsc @madaboutjoe @thunderstomp-and-tequila @justdamnpeachy @micheledawn1975 @fangfatale @kingstevesgf @notlilyyyy @eddiesguitarskills @palmtreesx3
Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))
406 notes · View notes
padfootagain · 4 months ago
Text
Grey Days
Hi everyone! Here is a little Hozier oneshot for today! It’s a little sad, but mostly hurt/comfort. Did I write it after crying when I watched that interview he did where he spoke about his struggle with mental health? Yes. Obviously. I want to give him so many hugs…
I hope you like it! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader
Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of depression
Summary : Andrew is used to feel low sometimes, he has been plagued by those periods for as long as he can remember. But if he usually solves his sadness by being alone, this time, the antidote to his pain might be you.
Word Count : 2671
Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist
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There were days like this, where everything was grey for no reason.
The sky rolling with clouds, heavy with rain, threatening with thunder, for sure wasn’t helping. But Andrew couldn’t pretend that it was at fault. Nor was the season, spring was on the horizon after all. There were boughs staining the branches, the first flowers blooming, the air a little warmer, the wind calmer than the winter storm. The birds had been chirping all morning, even if they had quietened now, under the menace of rain. He should be happy. The sun was high this morning, he had gotten some work done at Alex’s, he had had a nice lunch with his parents. Nothing but positive things, in theory.
And yet Andrew could feel his skin crawling, the tears that threatened to rise and spill, the numbness that came with spleen. Christ, melancholy was such a bitch, sometimes.
It was a bad day, the voices in his head were louder than usual. Despite the distractions he couldn’t keep them down. He kept on thinking about the pieces of songs he had recorded this morning with Alex, and on the spot they sounded good. Now, all he had left was doubt. For sure, none of it was good enough, and his lyrics were all over the place, and they didn’t do the subject justice… the didn’t do you justice…
He felt the burn in his eyes and the tightening in his throat again, his breathing grew more laboured, so he took a deep breath. He was driving, now was not the time…
And yet the thoughts were still there. As he entered his tiny town, the swirling of voices kept shouting.
Not good enough…
Don’t know how to write a proper song…
Got lucky with one song, will never be good enough again…
Imposter…
He entered his driveway, parked the car there. He didn’t notice your car until he was turning his head towards the front door.
Fuck…
He wasn’t in the mood for socialising, for pretending that everything was alright, for playing perfect boyfriend…
Another person you’ll end up disappointing…
Another thing in your life you don’t deserve…
He closed his eyes for a moment, tried to shush the voices. Just voices. It was just his busy head being louder than usual.
He just needed to calm down…
Damn, he should have called to cancel for tonight. You had a date night planned, you had told him you would come to his place early to start preparing dinner. You weren’t living together but he had a change of keys to your place, and you had one to his. He didn’t need to be home for you to come in.
Yesterday, Andrew was thinking about asking you to move in with him, to make a common home out of his large house.
She’d never say yes to you anyway…
He clenched his jaw, until his teeth gritted.
Just voices. Just voices. He was okay, he was fine…
It was just dinner, and it would be lovely. He loved you, he would have a great time…
He blinked his eyes open, brushed the wetness from his eyelashes.
Put on a brave face for her, come on…
He released some of the tension across his jaw, finally let go of the steering wheel. The soreness in his fingers made him realise how tightly he had been holding it.
He had no strength left in his body to open the car door, but he did it anyway. He was kind of used to it, the falls that followed the heights. It hadn’t happened in a long time. So bad, out of nowhere? Probably a year. Yeah, not long after the two of you started dating. It was pretty smooth after that. There were days when he didn’t feel great, but he didn’t feel terrible. With no energy left in his frame, no positive thoughts on his mind, no faith in himself, and no social battery either. Usually, when he felt like this, he simply locked himself up for a couple of days. The solitude usually helped. And now, he needed to be left alone, or at least he thought so. Besides, he would be in a terrible mood all evening, you would properly get tired of the sight and his sharp tone very quickly. And he didn’t want to take it out on you, it wasn’t fair, and he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. He was too tired to be angry anyway.
He unlocked the front door, was welcomed by the smell of spices. It should have made him smile, but instead, his heart clenched.
He took off his shoes and jacket, slowly, too slowly. Any other day he would have hurried to join you.
Tonight, all he wanted was to be alone, to not talk to anyone, to get out of his clothes that felt like a burden too heavy to carry, and get under the covers, and lie there for the rest of the night, and maybe throughout tomorrow too.
Instead, he walked to his kitchen, nervously rubbing at his palms. God, he bet he looked terrible. He didn’t have a hair tie, and his hair was frizzy with the humid air, and he felt so fucking ugly when he entered the room, knowing he looked like a mess in sweatpants and an old t-shirt when you looked stunning, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen…
You didn’t seem to notice, because when you saw him, you let out an excited gasp and hurried into his arms.
Why did the feeling of you in his embrace make him want to cry?
“Hi, baby! How was your day?”
He cradled the back of your head in his large hand, gently, as if you could break under his touch. He rested his lips on the top of your head, took a deep breath of your shampoo, the scent so familiar, so soothing, so reassuring…
He closed his eyes.
It lasted a couple of seconds, and then the voices were back.
One day she’ll see you can’t make her happy…
He pulled away.
“Good,” he answered elusively, forcing a smile, but he knew it was tight-lipped. “Busy.”
“Did you get some work done with Alex, then?”
“Hmm… loads.”
“Good! You must be tired then, you can sit down, I’m almost done!”
He looked at the meal you were making for the two of you. You had set up the table, had even lit up some candles. It was fucking nice, so damn romantic…
“Smells amazing,” he complimented, but you seemed to notice that there was no light left in his voice. “Gonna take a shower before joining you, okay?”
“Sure! But… you’re okay, honey?”
Honey… Honey…
“Yeah, just… tired. Long day. I won’t take long.”
You nodded, offering a smile and he did his best to give it back.
He thought the shower would help, but it didn’t. He almost let the floodgates open while the warm water numbed his muscles, made his body feel like it wasn’t there at all. He had even less strength as he walked out of the shower. But at least, now, he was wearing a shirt and black jeans, and he had tied his hair in a low bun, looking close to presentable. He was wearing his glasses, he didn’t have the energy to put some contacts on.
When he entered the kitchen again, you had poured some red wine, were humming to a tune he didn’t know, checking the cooking of your vegetables.
“Almost done! Perfect timing!” you announced with pride.
“Thank you for cooking tonight,” he let out in a breath.
He knew his shoulders were bent, he knew you had noticed the way he was trying to look as small as possible. He read it in your frown. He nervously rubbed at his collarbone, felt irritated now.
She’s doing all this for you, you can’t get mad for nothing. It’s not her fault, calm down.
He sat down, as you invited him to do so. You brought food a couple of minutes later, and he asked you about your day. But unlike any other day, it wasn’t out of genuine curiosity and fondness; he simply didn’t want to speak.
He had done a good job at playing pretend the rest of the day, but he had no energy left to keep the mask on. The cracks were all over his features, in every forced smile, in every glance, in every blinking of tears. Your food was delicious, he complimented you on it, forced himself to swallow it fully, even if he felt like he might throw up if he kept on eating.
“Andy?”
He looked up again, noticing all of a sudden that he hadn’t paid attention to the conversation in a few minutes.
“Hmm?”
“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”
You offered him a kind smile, reached for his hand across the table. An anchor, an intimate gesture of support.
His throat tightened, he couldn’t find his voice.
“Baby… it’s just me. Why are you all closed up all of a sudden?”
He gave you a sad smile, although he had aimed for it to be reassuring.
“Just…”
Just tired was the excuse, but then again, he didn’t feel like lying now. Didn’t have the strength for it. Maybe if he were honest now, you’d show him the voices were right, you’d realise what a loser he could be sometimes, how you should leave…
Shut! Up!
“It’s just… it’s just a bad day.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. I mean… nothing in particular, I just… I don’t know… sometimes my head gets messy with thoughts for no reason. I’ve been working a lot for the past couple of months, it’s more frequent when I’m tired.”
Slowly, you nodded.
“It’s pretty bad today, right?” you asked, and he nodded.
“I’m sorry. Your meal is truly delicious, and I was really excited about having a date night. I know I’m kind of… fucking up the mood.”
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
“Isn’t it?” he asked with bitterness in his voice, and he clenched his jaw at the sound.
He wouldn’t let himself get angry against you. He was in love with you. So fucking much. And you didn’t deserve that.
“There’s nothing wrong with feeling down sometimes, Andy.”
He looked down at his empty plate.
“It’s a bit worse than that.”
He heaved a sigh.
“I’m fine though, it just… It just needs to pass. I’ll be back to normal in a couple of days.”
“What do you usually do when something like that happens?”
“Erm… I just… shut down, basically. Wallow in self-pity for a while,” he tried to joke, managed to get a smile out of you. “I just… lock myself up on my own until I feel really low, and then I go out, and… it lingers a few days, sometimes a few weeks, but by then I can put a mask on again.”
“Do you put that mask on with me?”
“It hadn’t been so bad in a long time.”
“And when it’s not as bad?”
He shrugged.
“There’s no need to worry you about that.”
You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“I’m your girlfriend. I tell you when I’m unwell.”
He started rubbing at his collarbone again, until the skin turned a bright shade of red.
“I don’t particularly enjoy talking about it,” he replied, his tone dry and distant.
“But I… you know you can trust me, right? That you can talk with me about these things…”
“I know… It just doesn’t help. I know how to handle this, I’m fine. I promise.”
Slowly, you nodded, but he could feel that your silence was a bad sign.
“So… usually, you just… spend time alone?”
“Yeah.”
“And it helps.”
“Yeah… yeah, it does. I just… I’m kind of introverted, in case you haven’t noticed,” he gave you a small smile. “I recharge my batteries when I’m alone.”
You seemed to be thinking for a few seconds, and then you were standing. He looked up at you in surprise.
“I should leave you alone, then.”
“Wh… what?”
“You said you needed to be alone… you should have told me, I would have let you have a moment on your own. It’s fine. I get it, if that’s what you need.”
He blinked up, not fully registering what you were doing. His brain jumped to the worst-case scenario, as per usual.
“Are you… are you breaking up with me?”
“What?! Of course, not!”
“You… you’re leaving…”
“Because you said you needed to be on your own for the evening. That’s okay. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
You heaved a sigh, took his hand in yours.
“Andy, I’m very happy with you. I know you love me. There’s nothing wrong in needing to spend some time on your own. You should have just told me. I’ll give you some space for tonight.”
You took his face in your hands, dropped a gentle kiss to his lips.
“I love you, baby,” you whispered as you pulled away. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
And with that you left the room. He heard you fumbling with your things in the hallway.
Being alone was what he needed. He had always longed to take a step back from everyone, even his partners, when he felt like this.
Except that tonight he didn’t want you to leave. He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to hold you as tightly as he could, and cuddle in bed, and just forget about the world outside your arms, let you hold him until he couldn’t have a single thought anymore…
He jumped to his feet, rushing across the house as you put on your coat.
“Don’t go.”
The plea cut the air like a knife.
He blinked tears away.
“Please, don’t go. I don’t want you to go,” he confessed.
“But you said…”
“I don’t want you to go.”
“I won’t be mad if you want to take the night for yourself.”
“Y/N. I don’t. Want you. To go.”
He struggled to swallow back the lump in his throat.
“Please… please, don’t leave.”
You stared at him for a moment, motionless. But then you put your coat back on its hanger, took off your shoes.
When you walked back to him, he almost started to cry.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes… please…”
Before you could say anything else, he was holding you in a tight embrace, one that you quickly reciprocated.
“What do you want us to do, then?” you asked, rubbing his back, and for the first time that day, he felt his muscles relax.
“Honestly… I just want to go to bed, cuddle with you and not move until… the end of the month.”
You laughed, kissing his shoulder through his shirt.
“Well, we’ll have to get up before that I’m afraid… but cuddling for the rest of the evening sounds nice.”
He heaved a relieved sigh.
“I’m sorry, I’m fucking up our date night… it was so lovely of you to cook and everything…”
“It’s okay. It’s fine.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Of course not.”
“Good… that’s grand…”
He finally pulled away, took your hand to guide you to his bedroom. The dishes would have to wait for tomorrow.
He got ready for bed first, and then waited for you. And while he was looking at you as you moved around the bed, plugging in your phone, setting up an alarm for the morning, drinking some water… all he wanted was to hold you close. You were the first person who made him feel that way. Who made him long for companionship even when he felt so low…
… and then, you were in bed, opening your arms for him to settle in your embrace, letting him bury his face in the crook of your neck.
Perhaps this one time, his busy brain was wrong. Perhaps you wouldn’t leave. Perhaps he would stay. And maybe, just this one time, not all things would end…
309 notes · View notes
thatbloodymuggle · 4 months ago
Text
MASTERMIND (iii)
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THREE - COLOR THEORY
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: 11.5k
SERIES MASTERLIST
WARNINGS: language, descriptions of violence, smut, oral (m receiving), thigh humping, fingering
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You have always wondered if being born from Light and Dark was a blessing, or a curse. On one hand, it has granted you the ability to navigate life’s morally gray areas; to question everything and listen to opposing thoughts and ideologies. But on the other hand, your existence was born from a violent affair—and you can’t help but wonder if that Dark inevitably lives within you, shielded by the Light. 
Right now, more than ever, you believe the latter may be true. 
It’s been three days. Three days since you woke up to an empty bed beneath you and guilt weighing heavy atop. Three days since you self-sabotaged your entire mission. Three days since you reveled in the comfort of your enemy’s arms.
You thought the regret would be at its worst the morning after; you figured it would pass with time. But with each day, each hour, each minute that ticks by, breathing becomes just a little bit harder. You can’t even find peace in sleep; not when you are kept awake by images of Eris’s lust-filled gaze and the inevitable heartbreak on Mor’s face. If your own self-stirred panic isn’t enough, you also have the note that Eris left atop his empty pillow to worry about:
I apologize for leaving so soon, Little Bird, but I have some business to attend to. Do write back when you’d like to take a tour of the library. Don’t miss me too much.
The bastard left the proverbial ball in your court. Typically, you like being in control. But with your current frenzied mental state, the last thing you need is yet another convoluted layer to worry about.
Needless to say, you are about one misstep from exploding.
The crackling embers of the fireplace in your cabin stare back at you tauntingly. You hover your hands over the orange flames, letting the heat tickle your skin until the burning becomes too much, and you are forced to pull away. You wait a beat, before raising your shaky hands over the fire once again. Albeit brief, the pain seems to be the only escape from the assault of your traitorous thoughts. Yet, with each retreat of your hands, the empty paper and pen sitting on your bedside table glare at you expectantly. They seem to radiate a cruel impatience—as if Eris is slinking in the shadows, watching you.
Your hands begin to burn again, and you abruptly pull them away. Before you can raise them over the flames once again, you feel the scraping of talons against the cobblestone barrier of your mind.
You want nothing less than to talk to Rhys right now. But you know that if you leave him hanging, he will worry. Reluctantly, you let your walls crumble down, and a shiver runs up your spine as you feel his aura creep in.
Everything okay? His voice sings across your mental connection.
You gnaw on your bottom lip until you wince, swiping your tongue across the droplet of blood.
I don’t know, you relent.
He doesn’t respond immediately. But you can picture the cinch between his brows as he mulls over your answer. Be honest with me. I won’t share with the others, if you don’t want me to. Promise.
Your fingers dance over the flames once more. You can’t possibly divulge what has transpired thus far. But you certainly can’t hold it all in without going mad. The fire burns your skin, and you jolt back before responding.
Promise?
He replies instantly, Yes.
You start talking before you can convince yourself otherwise. I think I may be getting a little too close.
Your response is simple, straight to the point. But something about it feels…heavy. 
What do you mean ‘too close’?
You’re careful not to let your thoughts, your memories of what happened in that cottage, to breach your mental connection with Rhys. You stare into the orange flames, admiring how intertwine, before replying.
The ‘seduction from afar’ plan may need to be revised. I’m in too deep to keep my distance for three weeks.
Your heart thumps in your chest as you wait for his response. You subconsciously twirl the silver ring on your thumb, never peeling your eyes away from the blazing fire. Rhys doesn’t say anything for a while. Just as fear begins to creep in, his voice sounds through your mind.
That’s fine. You jolt at his response, and he continues. Between you and me, I don’t care what you have to do. Make him fall in love with you, break his heart, it doesn’t matter. Once you’re out of there, you’ll never have to see him again.
You physically flinch as the reality of your situation hits you like a truck. Three weeks, and you’ll never see him again. Three weeks, and it’ll all be done—there will be no witness to whatever fling you have, no one left to tell the tale. No one ever has to know. Mor never has to know.
Okay, you finally respond simply.
Just tread carefully, you can hear the strain in his voice.
You nod robotically, even though he can’t see you. With a quick farewell, you put up your mental barriers. You stare into the flames for a few minutes longer, until the mere sight burns your irises.
“Compartmentalization,” you mumble to no one in particular.
Finally, you peel yourself off the dust-covered floor in front of the fire. Your legs are wobbly as you take methodical steps towards your bedside table. The empty paper and pen are quivering in anticipation as you approach. Your hand moves with a mind of its own as you pick up the waiting pen and scribble onto the paper.
Does the offer still stand?
The second you set the pen back down onto the table, the paper vanishes into thin air from your fingertips. You wring your hands together as you sit down on the side of your bed and wait. You’re not sure what you’re waiting for exactly, but you wait. 
“Compartmentalization,” you say it again. And you say it a few more times. Enough to trick your mind into believing it and slow the frantic beat of your heart. Enough to don a mask of apathy as a crack sounds outside the front door followed by a sharp knock. 
You twist the silver ring around your thumb once more before standing, this time on steady legs. Your steps are calm and calculated as you tread towards the door. You take one last deep breath, ridding your body and mind of any residual apprehension. With your lips curled into a beguiling grin, you swing the door open.
Eris’s smile is almost as wicked as yours as he scans you from head to toe, drinking in your appearance.
“I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, Little Bird,” he smirks.
You pick at your nails nonchalantly, “I’m flattered I’ve been on your mind, but I’m not sure I can say the same.”
His vicious grin only widens, “You wound me, Birdie. But I must admit,” he dips down and lowers his voice to a whisper, “I quite like your bite today.”
You arch a brow and don’t so much as flinch at his proximity, “Are you a masochist, Eris Vanserra? Or does chasing after disinterested females turn you on?”
Your thinly veiled insult only eggs him on. It takes everything in you not to shrink back as he lowers his lips so they graze the shell of your ear.
“Are you sure you want to go down this road? Because last I remembered, you were a whimpering little mess—”
His sentence is abruptly halted by your fingers pinching his lips shut. His eyes widen in incredulity at your childish action, and a giggle bubbles in your throat at the sight. You release him and walk briskly past, leaving him dumbfounded behind you.
“Well, are we going or not?” you snark over your shoulder.
He falls into step beside you, and you jolt as he places his hand on the small of your back. His touch gentle, but commanding. You don’t dare look at him as he warns, “I’ll let this one slide, Little Bird. But don’t forget that my teeth are much sharper than yours,” he wraps his arm tightly around your waist, “And I’m not afraid to use them.”
Your rebuttal is cut short as he pulls you to his chest before winnowing you both out of the woods.
The Forest House is just as remarkable as you remembered it—even more so in the sunlight. The tangles of ivy enveloping the red-brick walls are a vibrant green, and the intricate details of the gate itself seem to glisten underneath the sun’s rays. However, unlike your last visit, this time sentries line nearly every inch of the expansive walls. Their taut faces and intimidating steeds exude a sense of savagery that makes your skin prickle.
Eris’s hand retreats to its spot on the small of your back, and you jump slightly as you are reminded of your purpose for being here. Reluctantly, you peel your eyes away from the curvature of the golden gates and cock your head towards his. The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement, and you can tell he’s holding back a comment from the twitch in his lips.
“Spit it out,” you feign annoyance.
He shakes his head with an airy laugh, “It’s nothing. I just like the way you look at the world—all wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, like you’re experiencing life for the first time. It’s cute.”
You frown. 
His comment, while innocent, puts you on edge for two reasons. The first, and the one that really makes your skin crawl, is his incessant ability to unknowingly point out parts of yourself that belong to you, rather than Athena Ellesmere. With each destination he takes you to, you do feel like you’re experiencing the world for the first time. But that’s not Athena—and with each of your quirks he reveals, he’s one step closer to sniffing you out entirely.
The second, well…
“Cute?” you deadpan.
His teeth flash as his grin widens, “Cute.”
You’re not cute. You’re supposed to be sexy, confident, untouchable—a femme fatale. Not fucking cute.
You know your bubbling frustration is futile, so you simply narrow your eyes into a warning glare and march towards the golden gates. You know that the pout on your face isn’t helping your case—but you can’t seem to wipe it off. The sentries shift on their steeds as you approach but return to their stationed positions when Eris falls into step beside you. They don’t so much as look in your direction as you pass through the gates.
“Once you are formally welcomed inside the gates, you are free to come and go as you please,” Eris’s fingers brush yours as he speaks, “So if you are in further need of the library after today, you can return.”
Your ears perk up at this, but you nod coolly. He leads you around the side of the large mansion, away from the front door, and lowers his voice to a murmur, “But I would prefer if you’d let me accompany you, if you should visit again.”
“Why? Want me all to yourself?” you snort.
He wears a playful grin, but his eyes are vapid.
“You know I do,” he teases, “But the beauty of this place is deceptive. Darkness lurks behind these walls, Little Bird.”
A shiver crawls up your spine, but you swiftly retort, “I’m not afraid of the dark.”
“I know,” his voice is thick with trepidation.
You bristle at the way he speaks about you like he knows you. Yet again.
His hand returns to the small of your back as he leads you towards a small door, almost completely covered by thick ropes of vine. If he wasn’t guiding you, you would’ve completely missed the hidden entrance. You suck in a breath in anticipation as he pushes it open, wood creaking against rusted hinges. You hide your curiosity as you take in the burgundy carpet lining a hallway so long, you can’t see its end. The walls are built of centuries-old limestone, the darkness illuminated by flame torches.
You peel your eyes away from the hallway as Eris leads you to the left, down a steep, spiral staircase. Just like the hallway, it is built entirely of dark stone which holds a red hue thanks to the flickering flames of torches lining the walls. He steps in front of you, and you follow his lead silently as he leads you down the stairs. The steep wind of the steps is dizzying as you descend downwards, deep into the ground below, and into the heart of the tunnels of the Forest House. With each floor you pass, you picture Azriel’s map of the house. Finally, Eris takes a turn at the ninth floor you’ve descended. You follow closely behind and note the change in architecture. Gone are the limestone walls, and in their place, deep mahogany wood lined with a variety of paintings: family portraits, Autumn Court landscapes, still life’s. This hallway is also dimly lit with torches, but it holds a peculiar warmth unlike the others.
“How big is this place?” you voice echoes down the expansive hallway.
You know exactly how big it is. But you can’t stand the eerie silence. 
Eris’s voice rumbles lowly, “Miles long. It would take you half the morning to walk from one end to the other.”
Your eyes widen in mock astonishment—as if you don’t know that it is exactly 4.2 miles long.
“And you don’t get lost?” you ask.
“You forget I’ve had centuries of practice, darling,” he chuckles.
You open your mouth to fire another question, but a squeal escapes instead as you feel something wet bump against your right hand. You snatch your hand to your chest and look down to find a pair of beady, vermillion eyes staring back at you. You instinctively inch closer to Eris as you stare down at the creature in awe.
You know what smokehounds are. And you know that Eris owns a whopping twelve. But you weren’t quite prepared for the predator standing before you. Its fur is gray and sleek like smoke, and its eyes are the color of blood. Your initial fear fades as you realize, despite their crimson hue, its eyes are not filled with malice—but rather, curiosity. You cautiously lower the hand clutched to your chest back to your side, and slowly stretch your fingers apart. Its wet nose bumps your hand again, and you shiver at the tickling sensation as it sniffs you. A giggle bubbles in your throat as it sticks its tongue out and licks between your fingers. You tentatively stroke the side of its face with your knuckles.
“She likes you,” Eris hums beside you.
The smokehound nuzzles into your side, and you stroke the top of her head with your full hand. You know they are vicious creatures—you’ve read about how they can race as fast as the wind to sniff out any prey. But the creature standing below you seems as harmless as a fly.
“What’s her name?” you ask as you scratch softly between her ears. 
“Sage. She’s my oldest,” his hand joins yours as he strokes the back of her neck.
“I never pictured smokehounds to be so…affectionate,” you wonder aloud, curiosity piqued as she licks your hand again.
Eris laughs softly, “They aren’t. She must be drawn to you—the same way I am.”
You can feel his gaze on you but refuse to look in his direction as you fight the blush crawling up your neck. He withdraws his hand, and you follow suit as you continue your walk down the hallway, this time with Sage by your side. She trots beside you, close enough that your fingertips brush the silken fur on her back and her side rubs against your dress. Even as you continue down the dimly lit hallway, you can’t take your eyes off the elegant creature walking alongside you.
You nearly slam into Eris as he halts abruptly in front of two large oak doors. Just as you regain your footing, you nearly lose it again at the sight before you.
There are seemingly endless rows of books reaching at least fifty feet tall. An ornate rug of red and gold covers the stone floor, and hundreds of flickering candles are suspended in midair. Vibrant green ivy, much like the kind you’ve seen outside, wraps around each shelf. To top it all off, the ceiling is a mosaic of crystalline windows shining golden rays of sunlight down below—some kind of enchantment, you presume, given that you are at nine floors underground.
“Wow,” you breathe. With your mouth agape and your eyes wide with wonder, you know that you are proving Eris’s earlier point. But right now, you couldn’t care less. 
You wander towards the shelves, Sage trailing behind you, and run your fingers gently along the spines of the books. The smell of parchment and wood is intoxicating, and your heart swells with joy as you scan the collection of classics. Some are so old; you presume they must be original prints. Others look brand new, completely untouched. 
One binding in particular catches you attention—well, ‘binding’ is generous, considering the book is barely hanging together by a thread. You carefully pull out the amethyst-colored cover and turn it over. Shattered Realms. 
“Is this an original copy?” you question, unable to peel your eyes away from the novel.
Eris looks over your shoulder, “Yes. It’s been passed down in my family for generations—although it originally belonged to the Night Court.”
Your lips twitch with amusement, but you force down a laugh at the irony. You glance at him over your shoulder, “How did it end up here?”
He takes a step closer to you, his chest inches away from pressing up against your back, and runs a finger over the binding of the book in your hands. His scent of sandalwood and nutmeg invades your senses.
“Many centuries ago, my grandfather was in a bit of a tiff with the Night Court High Lord at the time. He stole it during their feud.”
You smile softly and make a mental note to retrieve the book before you return to Velaris as a little souvenir for Rhys. You carefully place the book back in its spot before continuing your exploration. Eris follows closely behind, whereas Sage has found comfort in front of the fireplace. 
“Do you have any favorites?” you wonder aloud as you come to the end of the aisle.
“I have many,” his hand brushes yours.
You hook your pinky finger over his, “Care to share?”
“Any particular genre you’re interested in?” he curls his finger against yours.
You bite your bottom lip in thought as you mull over the options. Asking you to pick a favorite genre is like asking a mother to pick her favorite child. 
“I’ve recently been on a bit of a reading kick of philosophical essays,” you tap a finger to your chin in thought, “Mind-body dualism, introspection, all the good stuff,” you drawl.
Eris’s brows raise in surprise, “I never would’ve thought that philosophy pairs well with filthy little romance novels.”
Your eyes narrow into a glare, and you move to snatch your pinky away from his, but he swiftly intertwines your fingers. He’s dragging you down the aisle before you can protest, and you stumble to keep up with his swift feet. Eris leads you past rows of bookshelves, up a spiral staircase, and past even more rows of books. He doesn’t give you a chance to admire the collection of literature as he tugs you along. Finally, you halt at a small alcove decorated with stained glass windows.
Your eyes widen as you take in the collection of books written by countless ancient philosophers. But you force on a façade of indifference, careful not to fuel his already bursting ego even more. You hold your breath as he leans over you and pulls a book at least six inches out of your reach. The binding is tattered—not as badly as the original copy of Shattered Realms, but enough that you can tell it’s at least a few centuries old. He holds it out expectantly, and you tentatively grab it from his waiting hands. 
“I think you might find this to your liking,” he grins, “A collection of Tydeus’s correspondences with Lady Baldwin. It’s not an original copy, but surely the closest to it.”
He releases your other hand, and you clench your jaw to conceal your excitement. You’ve been searching for a copy of this for years now—ever since you stumbled across the collection of the ancient philosopher Tydeus’s works in the Velaris library. Your mother used to love reading the copy of his correspondences in the Day Court libraries, but that feels like a lifetime ago now.
“Tydeus’s ideologies are a bit archaic for my taste. But I suppose this will do,” you lie through your teeth. Eris chuckles lightly, observing the curious glint in your eyes and the way you hold the book with a delicate reverence.  
“There are wards around the house which prevent these books from leaving the premises, so unfortunately, I cannot loan it to you. And given your past thieving tendencies, I’m not sure I would want to,” he teases as he leans against the shelve of books.
Well, there goes Rhys’s solstice gift.
Your lips dip into a frown, “I know Vanserras are cruel, but I never imagined you’d be this twisted—dangling one-of-a-kind copies of ancient literature over my head only to pull them away.”
“Don’t fret, Little Bird,” he purrs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “You can read to your heart’s desire—inside the house, of course. I’ll show you to a place with a bit more…privacy.”
You gulp as his fingers linger against your cheekbone. His touch is electrifying, and you fight the instinct to chase after it as he pulls away.
“Okay,” you whisper, “Is it alright if I pick out a few more?”
His teeth flash as he observes the effect he has over you.
“Take your time. I’ll be keeping Sage company.”
He brushes past you, and you remain frozen in place for a moment. Get it together, you scold yourself internally. You will your mind to empty as you continue your stroll down hundreds of rows of books. You try your very best not to pick up everything that catches your eye—only those which really pique your interest. But even so, you quickly find yourself with a stack of books so high they nearly reach your chin. Your arms tremble underneath the weight, but still, you add a couple of atlases to your stack for good measure. You have no intention of reading them—but Athena Ellesmere would. 
Finally satisfied with your collection, you walk slowly back towards the front of the library. You rest your chin on the top of the stack, careful not to topple the tower of books. The winding staircase proves to be a challenge, and you nearly stumble twice. But by some miracle, you make it down unscathed, and approach the blazing fireplace.
Eris lounges on a couch with Sage on the ground beneath him. He scratches her ears nonchalantly as he flips through his own book. His neck cranes at the sound of your uneven footsteps, and a roaring laugh fills the room when he lays eyes on you.
It’s a sight he wishes will be forever imprinted in his memory—your arms wobbling underneath a stack of books nearly as tall as you, and your flushed cheeks peeking out on top.
“Some help would be appreciated,” you hiss.
He sets his book down and glides over, taking half the stack from your arms. You nearly moan in relief at the literal weight lifted off your shoulders. 
“A few more, huh?” he taunts with a wily smirk.
“A few means a small number. Comparative to your collection, yes. A few,” you grit your teeth.
“Whatever you say, Little Bird. Although I except a thorough review of each,” he sings.
Eris balances his half of the stack in one arm and wraps his other around your waist, pulling you tight to his chest. You save your own stack from nearly tipping over with a stumble. You aren’t afforded a chance to protest as he winnows you both away, leaving Sage sleeping peacefully in front of the fire.   
This time, you aren’t able to save the stack from spilling out of your arms as you land in a new room. Much to your displeasure, Eris’s pile of books is fully intact in his arms. You drop to your knees with a huff and begin collecting the books strewn about a patterned, crimson carpet.
“You’re a clumsy one, aren’t you?” he taunts from above you.
Your head snaps upwards and you open your mouth to retort but pause as you take in the new surroundings. Much like the library, this room holds a golden glow highlighted by swirling patterns of golds and reds along the walls. You can feel another fire blazing behind you, and just past the deep-seated sofa in front of you lies an enormous canopy bed. It suddenly clicks—you are in Eris’s private chambers. 
You cock a brow at the sight and a smirk tugs at your lips, “You know, if you wanted to get me in your bed all you had to do was ask.”
He sets down his stack of books on a small, wooden table in front of the couch and reaches a hand down to you expectantly. You tentatively place your hand in his, and he raises you up from the ground, pulling you to his chest with a sultry smile. 
“Is that an offer, darling?” his breath tickles your neck as he dips down to your ear.
Your cheeks flush as he caresses your jawline with his thumb. You clench your thighs as you are reminded of how his fingers felt inside you, dripping in your arousal. But before you can melt into his touch, you raise your lips to his ear and croon, “I’m not that easy. You’ll have to work harder than that, Fox.”
He presses his nose against your temple and groans, the vibration of it sending a tantalizing chill up your spine. Just as easily as he’s able to get you flustered, so are you able to drive him up the wall. 
You pull away from him, ignoring his whine of protest. He is absolutely shameless in his desire for you, and the thought alone makes your gut churn with delight.
You gather your stack of books from the ground and carefully place them beside the other half on the wooden table. You sift through the titles before finally settling on the Tydeus copy Eris recommended. You don’t so much as glance in his direction as you take a seat on the couch and kick off your heavy boots. The fire is just close enough that the flames warm your skin, and you all but sink into its comfort. You can feel Eris’s eyes on you, but you continue to ignore him as you stretch your legs out across the velvet expanse and open the ancient book. You aren’t even through the first page when you feel Eris’s hands on your calves.
You squeal as he raises your legs, giving himself space to sit beside you, before lowering them again so they are draped over his lap. You glare at him over your book, but he ignores your malice as he leans forward and picks his own book from the pile on the table. He leans back in his seat, his legs spread beneath yours, as he opens the book—a rare biography of one of the original Valkyries. Your own book sits limply in your hands as you study his profile—the plump of his lips, the shift of his jaw. You can’t help but admire the freckles dusted across the bridge of his nose. He is incredibly handsome, which simultaneously makes your job easier, and all the more difficult.
“I know I’m gorgeous but try not to drool on my centuries-old book,” he hums nonchalantly, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.
You raise your leg to kick him, but he firmly grips your ankle and sets it back onto his lap without so much as a glance in your direction. He doesn’t remove his hand, letting it rest on your leg. With a huff, you return to your book. You are halted, once again, this time by his wandering hand. He teasingly pushes up the skirt of your long dress, just below your knees, so he can rest his hand on your shin. Your breath hitches as he rubs circles into your calf with his thumb, massaging it gently.
Reluctantly, you succumb to the comfort of his touch and return to your book once more. You page through Tydeus’s correspondences with Lady Baldwin. Their letters begin simply enough. But you quickly find yourself immersed in their debate over morality. Whereas the Lady takes a relative stance, Tydeus takes on an absolutist one. As their back-and-forth shifts to the dichotomy of good and evil, you are eerily reminded of your own inner turmoil earlier that morning.
“Anything good so far?” you jump as Eris’s gravelly voice cuts through the comfortable silence.
You meet his inquisitive gaze and note how the flame of the fire reflects in the amber of his eyes.
“My mother would have loved this,” you reply.
She did love it. You remember how she used to read it constantly in the Day Court—you never thought you’d be able to get your hands on a copy of it again. 
“Why is that?” he asks, curiosity laced in his tone.
You lower the book onto your lap, “She loved all of Tydeus’s works. She was a strong believer in the dichotomous division between ‘good’ and ‘evil’.”
Eris sets his own book down and rubs your leg with both of his hands. 
“And what do you think?” he challenges thoughtfully.
You shrug, “I’m not sure. On the one hand, I think morality is relative—that individuals are not uniform, and thus form their own ideas about what is ‘good’ and what is ‘evil’. But then on the other, I used to believe that there are some things we universally categorize as one or the other.”
“You don’t anymore?” he counters
You bite your lip and avert your gaze to the fire. The anxiety you managed to dispel earlier that day starts creeping in. Your gut twists uncomfortably as you reply simply, “I’m not sure.”
His hands slow, noticing your shift in demeanor. He studies the furrow of your brows as you stare into the fire.
“I think it is not morality that dominates the situation, but the situation that dominates morality,” he counters after a few beats of silence.
“A moral relativist?”
“I don’t like labels,” he shrugs.
The vibrancy of the fire is burning your eyes, but you keep them trained on the flames as you reply, “I suppose I agree with that—the problem is, it’s not the answer I’m seeking.”
“And what answer are you seeking?”
You long to reach your hands out over the flames until the heat sears your skin. The déjà vu makes your stomach churn.
“It’s not so much an answer as a direction,” you speak softly to hide the quiver of your voice, “I wish there was some way to know if I’m moving in the right direction.”
He chuckles, “Which brings us back to the question of absolutism versus relativism.”
You peel your eyes away from the flame, and your eyes lock with his. They hold a certain understanding, as if he can see straight through you and into your soul. Your body moves with a mind of its own as you sit up and subconsciously inch closer.
 “I suppose all we can really do is justify our actions for ourselves—and hope that others will agree with our division of morality,” you whisper.
His gaze darkens, and he bows his head towards you, “I think life is full of gray areas, and we can’t be faulted for how we choose to navigate them.”
His response strikes a chord deep within you. Your eyes flick down to his pink lips, just inches away from yours.
Compartmentalization be damned.
You lurch forward to close the gap, and he meets you halfway. 
The moment your lips meet his, every ounce of worry is swept away from your mind. You barely register the thump of your book hitting the ground as his lips glide against yours. His taste is addictive—a sweet peppermint that you can’t seem to get enough of. Your nose bumps against his as you climb on top of him, your legs straddling his lap. You cup the side of his face with your hands, deepening the kiss. He grips the small of your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip: a question. Your mouth parts: an answer. 
You snake one hand behind his neck and run your fingers through his crimson locks, tugging sharply. He groans, and just as he moves to deepen the kiss, you abruptly pull away.
His sounds of protest are silenced by your lips against the sensitive skin of his neck. You move tentatively at first, remembering how it felt to have his lips against your neck, and mimic his maneuvers. He tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of your neck, pushing you closer as a sign of encouragement. You become bolder, alternating between open-mouthed kisses, small nips, and swipes of your tongue. His groan of approval spurs you on, and you fiddle with the bottom of his tunic, pulling it up his chest. You draw back briefly to peel the shirt completely off his body before resuming your work.
“Who taught you how to do that?” Eris hisses as you suck harshly at the apex of his collarbone. 
  You grin at the blossoming purple hue on his pale skin and run your tongue over the spot soothingly, “A wily fox too clever for his own good.”
He pulls you back up, abruptly cutting your abuse of his neck short. You eagerly smash your lips against his once more and trail your hands down the expanse of his chest, dragging your nails lightly along his rigid abdomen. His hands loop around you and he swiftly yanks down the zipper of your dress. You eagerly shed the suffocating material, so it pools at your waist, exposing your bare chest to him. Eris moans at the sight of your peaked nipples and doesn’t hesitate to massage your breasts with his large hands. His lips trail down your neck, but before he has a chance to carry out the same treatment you’d given him, you slip from his grasp entirely.
Eris watches, stunned, as you slip off his lap and sink down onto your knees before him. His lips part as you nudge his knees apart, and lurch forward to trail open-mouthed kisses down his chest, to his abdomen, until you finally reach the waistband of his bottoms. He jolts as you brush your hand over the very obvious, and large, tent in his pants.
“Little Bird,” he mumbles as you palm over him, “You don’t have to do this.”
Your eyes flick up to his and you speak with conviction, “I want to.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps and you all but drool at the sight. He nods once, and you begin fiddling with his belt buckle. His hands move to help you, but you swat them away. You make quick work of the fastenings, and slowly drag the material down his legs, inch by inch. You know he’s growing impatient by the clenching of his abdomen. You flash him a sultry smile as you finally pull the material from his legs, leaving him in his underwear. His hands move to the waistband, but you swat them away again. 
 “Patience is a virtue,” you muse before nipping the skin of his inner thigh. He inhales sharply, and shudders as you run your tongue over the same spot, soothing the ache.
“Using my own moves against me,” he croons, but the strain is evident in his voice, “I’m impressed, Little Bird.”
Your heart thumps in your chest as you graze your hands along the waistband of his underwear. You dip your fingers underneath, and your confidence falters slightly. He runs a hand through your hair soothingly, coaxing you to continue. Your keep your eyes trained on his as you inch the fabric down his thighs. He raises his hips and releases a sigh of relief as his erection slaps up against his stomach, free from the confining material. You toss the garment aside haphazardly and take in the sight of his complete bareness.
The first thing you notice is that he’s big—well, you think so, at least, considering you have nothing to compare him to. His dick is much thicker than you’d imagined, with veins branching upwards towards the tip which is a shade darker than the pink of his lips. You can’t help but wonder how it could possibly fit inside you. A blush paints the apples of your cheeks at the thought.
Eris notices your apprehension, and he curls a finger underneath your chin so your eyes meet his. 
“Would you like me to talk you through it?” his voice is soft.
The amber of his eyes is warm, like honey. You nod shyly.
“Okay, darling. Can you wrap your hand around my cock?” the sweetness of his voice is a stark contrast to the dirtiness of the words tumbling from his lips. 
You rest your left hand on his thigh and raise your right hand, delicately wrapping your fingers around his girth at its base. You hold him loosely, and he releases a pleasured sigh at your tentative touch. 
“You can hold it a bit tighter, love,” he hums while stroking the shell of your ear.
You follow his direction with a nod.
“Now move your hand—”
You don’t give him a chance to finish as you slowly begin moving your hand over his cock, from the base to the tip. His lips part and he shudders at the motion.
“Good,” he rasps, “Now can you spit on it? Get it a little wet for me?”
Your cheeks flare, but you follow his request. You timidly lean forward and dribble over his tip, captivated by the way it mixes with the bead of precum before sliding down. You use your hand to spread it around, and the friction eases as your hand slides more freely. 
“I think you’re a natural, Birdie,” he praises through a gasp, “Can you twist your hand for me a bit?”
You twist your hand in time with your strokes, and admire the way his face scrunches with pleasure. You squeeze a bit harder when you reach his base, and his hips twitch. Testing the waters, you slowly lean forward and stick your tongue out, licking over his tip. Eris grunts at the action, and you feel a bit more confident as you wrap your lips completely around the head. 
A guttural moan escapes his lips as you suckle on the head, your hand continuously pumping his shaft. You pull off his tip, and your gut twists with desire at the string of saliva between the head of his cock and your lips. You lurch forward, flattening your tongue against the base and dragging it upwards, before wrapping your lips around the tip again in a teasing maneuver.  
“Fuck,” he groans, “Can you take me a bit deeper?”
You nod, pupils blown. Your hand resumes its stroking movement as you slowly, tentatively, slide downwards. Your mouth burns from the stretch of his girth, but you breathe through your nose steadily. You take him in, inch by inch, until his tip hits the back of your throat, bringing tears to the corners of your eyes. You keep your hand around the base of his shaft, pumping and twisting the length you can’t fit.
“So good for me, Little Bird,” he moans. His right-hand digs into the fabric of the couch until his knuckles turn white, and his left brushes the hair out of your face. “Can you move your pretty little mouth for me?”
You slowly bob your head up and down, timing the strokes of your hand with the rise and fall of your lips. Tears spring to your eyes each time his tip hits the back of your throat and spit dribbles down the sides of your mouth, but any ounce of insecurity is washed away by the sinful noises tumbling from Eris’s lips.
“Can you use your tongue for me?” his voice is strained.
You flatten your tongue against his length as you bob up and down, swirling it around his length to the best of your ability.
“Look at me, love,” he gasps through an animalistic groan.
Your eyes flick up and you peer at him through your lashes. His pupils are blown and his lips parted, brows scrunched with a vulnerability you never imagined you’d see.
“You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock,” he rasps, “Wish I could keep you like this forever.”
You hum around him, and he shudders at the vibration. He tangles a hand in your hair, guiding your movements but not pushing you, slowly increasing your pace. Tears begin rolling down your cheeks at the delicious burn in your jaw and the back of your throat.
His chest heaves as he pants, “So close. Just a little more.”
You move with a newfound vigor at his words, finding a rhythm that keeps the noises tumbling from his mouth. You raise your unoccupied hand to the base of his cock. Experimentally, you brush over his balls with your thumb, eliciting raucous moan from Eris. He twitches in your mouth, and you do it again while swirling your tongue in a prolonged sweeping motion around his length.
“Fuck, Little Bird. I’m—”
He halts midsentence with an earth-shattering groan as his cock twitches violently in your mouth. You slow your movements as he reaches his high, thick ropes of cum painting the back of your throat. You splutter at the feeling, but continue milking him, swallowing his load. You stroke him gently, your tongue rubbing along him in a coaxing manner, until his thighs jerk, and his length softens in your mouth. You inch off him, stroking a hand over his thigh soothingly, and press one last kiss to his tip before pulling off completely.
You glance shyly up at Eris, and your chest swells with pride as you find his head thrown back in pure bliss. You rake your nails softly against his thighs, peppering feather-like kisses over his abdomen. His head lulls down towards you, and your heart skips a beat at the carnal look in his eyes. His hands are gentle as he wipes away the tears staining your cheeks before swiping over your mouth, collecting the saliva staining your lips. 
“You are an enigma, Little Bird,” he mumbles while intertwining your hands with his and pulling you back up. 
Your dress falls from your waist to the floor as you rise, leaving you completely bare aside from your panties. He pulls you onto his lap and you eagerly straddle him, connecting your lips to his. He groans into your mouth at the taste of his own release on your lips.
“Good?” you breathlessly ask against his mouth.
He pulls away from your lips with a chuckle and trails kisses underneath your ear as he mutters, “I haven’t finished so quickly in centuries.”
Your eyes crinkle with pride.
His lips meet yours once again, and you marvel at the way you slot together like the final two pieces of a puzzle. Mimicking his earlier move, you run your tongue along his bottom lip and he grants you entry, allowing you to deepen the kiss. His hands run down the curve of your back before settling on your ass, exploring your soft skin. Your gut clenches at the arousal pooling in your panties.
“Would you like to try something new?” he murmurs against your lips.
You respond with an affirmative hum, and whine as he pulls away.
He grips your waist, lifting you off his lap as if you weigh nothing at all, before setting you back down so you straddle just his left thigh. You jolt as your clothed arousal presses against the bare skin of his thigh.
Eris rolls his thumb over your swollen lips and whispers tauntingly, “Are you horny, Little Bird? Do you need some release?”
You nod shamelessly.
“Get yourself off, then.”
Your brows pinch with confusion, but realization dawns over you as he digs his fingers into your ass cheeks, grinding your clothed cunt against his leg. Your lips part in a silent gasp at the wave of pleasure that rolls through you. He guides you as you set a steady rhythm, grinding your throbbing clit against his thigh. The friction is electrifying, but you need more. The thin barrier of fabric separating you from him is suffocating. 
You whine pathetically, and he senses your desire. Eris pinches the flesh of your ass, and you lift your hips slightly. He removes his hands from behind you and you watch as they dip down between your thighs. You throb with anticipation as he hooks a finger underneath the fabric. Your arousal sticks to the flimsy material as he peels it aside, exposing your bare cunt.
“You’re dripping for me, darling,” he croons.
A long moan escapes your lips as you settle back down onto his thigh. With nothing separating you from him, you can feel how every ridge of his muscle stimulates your clit. He continues guiding you with his hands on your waist for a few seconds, before abruptly pulling away. 
You pause, mouth agape, as he stretches his arms over the back of the couch. Your cheeks flare in a combination of frustration and embarrassment as he leans back in his seat with a coy smirk on his lips.
He arches a brow expectantly, “Go on.”
You desperately want to wipe the smug look off his face—but your lust, your need for release, is too strong. You brace your hands against his broad shoulders and begin moving again. You groan at the way your clit slides against his bare thigh.
“You like making a mess over my thigh?”
You nod obediently.
He jerks his thigh once underneath you, and you cry out at the sensation.
“I need words, Birdie,” he drawls.
You roll your hips against him desperately and pant between gasps, “I love it.”
He shakes his leg at a steady pace, and the additional stimulation sends you reeling.
“Yeah?” he coos, “Tell me how it feels.”
Your legs tremble as your clit catches against the tensing muscles of his thigh.
“Feels filthy,” you mewl.
He grips your chin firmly, directing your gaze to his, before his arm returns to the back of the couch.
“Fitting for a filthy little girl, getting herself off on my leg,” he purrs, “I’m not even touching you and you’re a whimpering mess for me.”
His degrading words don’t even register, your mind clouded with desire. You can feel the tension building in your gut, and you pant with each roll of your hips. You try to increase your pace as you feel your high approaching, but your legs tremble underneath you, leaving that peak you so desperately desire just out of reach. 
“Please,” your voice trembles.
Eris knows exactly what you want, but he taunts you, “Please what?”
A fat tear escapes the corner of your eye and rolls down your flushed cheeks.
Your bottom lip wobbles as you whimper, “Touch me, Eris. Please.”
He swiftly pulls you off his thigh and lays you down on the couch. He crashes his lips against yours, your teeth bumping at the force. Eris doesn’t give you a second to catch your breath as he trails his hand up your inner thigh before sliding his middle finger through your slick, from your entrance to your swollen clit. Unlike last time, he doesn’t waste time teasing as he promptly sinks his middle finger inside of you. 
You cry out at the feeling of his finger deep inside you, and he curls it in response. He doesn’t hold back as he rubs your clit with his thumb while thrusting his finger, curling it against your g-spot with each maneuver. He latches his lips to your neck and sucks harshly while his unoccupied hand flicks over your peaked nipples. 
Your mind whirls at the sensation—the feeling of him all over you. It’s almost too much, having him everywhere. You desperately claw at his back, searching for something to stabilize you. 
Your stomach coils as you feel your high approaching again. He can feel you clench around his finger, and he groans against your skin, “You gonna cum for me, love? Finish all over my hand?”
Another tear rolls down your cheek, “Yes,” you blubber, “’M so close.”
“Let go, Little Bird,” he coaxes while slipping another finger inside of you.
The added stretch sends you over the edge. You all but scream as shockwaves of pleasure roll through your body. Your toes curl and your nails dig into his back as your vision spots. His fingers slow, but he keeps rubbing your clit as you ride through your high. He continues until your hips jerk from the overstimulation, and your hands go limp around his neck. You wince as he pulls his fingers from you and watch through hooded eyes as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, licking up every last drop of your arousal. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, your mind spinning in a post-orgasmic haze. 
Eris softly strokes your cheek with the back of his hand before dipping down and capturing your lips with his. This time, the kiss is slow—no bumping teeth or clashing tongues. You wrap your fingers around his wrist, relishing in the intimacy of it all, until he pulls away.
An airy laugh passes through your lips as he rests his forehead against yours.
“You’ll be the end of me, Little Bird,” Eris mumbles. He places a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose before collapsing on top of you. You grunt at the weight, and he shifts over enough so that he isn’t restricting your breathing, but his bare body remains draped over yours.
 “The end is but a beginning in disguise,” you tease as he nestles his nose against your cheek.
He chuckles, his breath tickling your neck. 
“How were you made so wise?” he muses.
“Wisdom isn’t born, Fox. It’s learned,” you trace your fingers along the arm draped over you, “And I have a lot more living to do before I can even come close to it.”
“Well, I think you’re plenty wise,” he curves a finger underneath your chin and tilts your head towards his.
Your nose is millimeters apart from his as you gaze into his amber eyes. Their golden hue is vibrant, much like his lopsided smile. But suddenly, something inside them dims, and the corners of his lips twitch downwards. Your brows furrow as you note the subtle change.
“What’s wrong?” you whisper, brushing back his crimson locks.
Eris shakes his head, “It’s nothing.”
You quirk a brow, “Clearly not.”
His hardened stare doesn’t stray from your eyes, but it seems to be searching for something. A chill crawls up your spine at his scrutinizing gaze, as if he’s trying to read your darkest thoughts. You’re suddenly aware of how exposed, how vulnerable you are to him right now—both physically and emotionally.
“Your eyes…” he pauses, as if searching for the right words, before continuing, “Do you remember the first night we met?”
The crinkle between your brows deepens, “How could I forget?”
He wets his lips before replying, “I told you your eyes were familiar.”
Fuck.
You pray that he doesn’t feel the uptick of your heart and continue stroking his arm steadily.
“I just realized,” he continues, “Who they remind me of.”
Panic washes over you, but your expression doesn’t falter, and you maintain your soothing touch.
“Oh?” you hum nonchalantly, “Who may that be?”
Eris shifts his gaze away from the eyes in question, and instead watches the rise and fall of your bare chest.
“A woman I knew a long time ago,” he finally replies.
You continue threading your fingers through his hair as you contemplate your next words. You are breeching unfamiliar territory, and one wrong step could doom you.
“Was she important to you?” you ask cautiously.
He doesn’t respond for a while, and his body is tense over yours. You wait with bated breath for his reply, your curiosity growing with each passing second.
“I don’t know.”
It’s not what you were expecting—but you aren’t sure what you were expecting, exactly.
You mull over his response, nibbling on your bottom lip in thought. Pressing him further feels like a violation—not only of his vulnerability, but of Mor’s. But curiosity is gripping you like a vice. This is the first time in a week you’ve gotten him close to talking about the Night Court, you justify to yourself, don’t let the opportunity slip through your fingers.
“May I ask what happened?” you inquire tentatively.
 He grunts and rests his head in the crook of your neck, “It’s not exactly a bedtime story, darling.”
You frown, unsure how to press him further without raising suspicion. 
He must notice your disappointment as he sighs, “I can practically hear those gears turning in your head, Little Bird. Would you really like to know?”
You nod. He traces shapes over the expanse of your stomach as he contemplates where to begin.
“Many centuries ago, my father arranged for my marriage to a daughter of the Night Court,” he speaks slowly, “It was purely political—a chance to strengthen the alliance between our courts.”
This is so wrong, you think to yourself. But you make no move to stop him.
“She did not want the union. So, the night before the wedding, she escaped—into the arms of another male, hoping that if she tarnished her…purity, the wedding would be called off.”
Tears prick your eyes as you know exactly what’s coming next, but you blink them away.
“Her father was—is—a cruel man. As cruel as my father,” the steadiness of his voice falters, but he continues, “When he found out what she’d done, he tortured her with a brutality unlike any I’ve witnessed. He left her, stripped naked, at the border of our court, with a sign that she was ours to deal with.”
You’re grateful for his sparing of the details, because you’re not sure you’d be able to hold yourself together.
“I found her that morning, while out with my guards,” he stops, and for a moment you don’t think he will continue. But he releases a deep sigh, and barely speaks above a whisper, “I demanded them not to touch her.”
Anger bubbles in the pit of your stomach, and it takes everything in you not to scream. You feel nauseous, the reality of your predicament suddenly sobering—the reality that you’re lying naked on a couch with a man who left your sister for dead.
 “If I or any of my guards touched her, she would have been stuck in Autumn—doomed to a life she did not want, according to my court’s laws. If I had…” his voice trembles ever so slightly, “If I had touched her, my father would have killed her on the spot. So, I left her there. I knew her…her friends would come save her. But it was not a decision I wanted to make.”
The fury trembling in your bones settles, and your mind reels over his recount of the events. This is not the version of the story you’ve heard from Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel. He could be lying—but what reason would Eris have to lie to you, when he is blissfully unaware of your relation to Mor? More than that, you’re unable to ignore the sincerity, the distress in his voice. 
“Do you regret it?” you whisper so quietly; you’re surprised he can hear you.
“No,” his response is immediate, “Not for a minute. I gave her a chance to live. Even if she doesn’t see it that way. But I’ll never be able to get that image out of my head…of her pleading for help, and me being unable to grant it.”
Your mouth is dry and you’re sure he can feel the thundering of your heart. Your head is a muddled mess, to say the least. 
“Gray areas,” you whisper simply.
We can’t be faulted for how we choose to navigate them, his earlier words ring through your mind. But not faulting him feels like the gravest betrayal you could commit.
A humorless chuckle tumbles from his lips as he echoes you, “Gray areas.”
His head sinks further into the crook of your neck and he runs his thumb soothingly over your abdomen, unknowingly combatting the pounding of your head as you process the onslaught of new—and unexpected—information. 
“Do you still align with the Night Court?” you change the subject boldly but keep your tone nonchalant.
Fortunately, he doesn’t seem fazed by your question. Unfortunately, he doesn’t entertain it either.
“I like to keep my business separate from the bedroom,” he rasps against your neck, and you shudder at the tickle of his breath.
You purse your lips into a humorless smile, “Compartmentalization.”
“Forgive me, darling,” he muses, the seriousness of his tone gone, “But I can’t bring myself to discuss pompous High Lords while lying atop a beautiful, naked female.”
“You think I’m beautiful?” you tease half-heartedly.
He raises his head from your shoulder and looks down at you, the fox-like grin that had momentarily disappeared back, “I don’t think, I know,” he brushes his nose along your jawline, “You are the most delectable little thing I’ve seen in centuries.”
  You feel his groin twitch against your upper thigh, and you roll your eyes, “You are insatiable, Eris Vanserra.”
He laughs and your heart sings at the sound, despite your reeling mind. He presses his chest against yours and stretches his arm out to the floor. You watch curiously as he rolls back into his previous position with your forgotten book in hand.
“I’m not quite sure if Tydeus qualifies as a bedtime story either,” you arch a brow.
He shrugs with a cheeky grin, “Well if you ever plan on getting through that mountain of books, you’d better get started.”
Eris holds it out expectantly, and after a moment of contemplation, you grab it with your free arm. You untangle your other hand from his hair and wrap it around his shoulder so you can balance the book on your stomach with both arms. He squirms over you, and you squeak he accidentally elbows the side of your breast.  
“Careful,” you hiss.
“My apologies, Little Bird,” he coos as he finally finds a comfortable position on his side. One arm rests underneath your neck, while the other remains draped over your stomach behind the book. He drops his head onto your shoulder, so he has a full view of the book in your hands.
“I’ll let you know when to turn the page,” he nods his head against you, encouraging you to begin.
You squint but relent as you see his eyes moving back and forth, reading the text before him. You can feel him smiling below you as you focus your gaze on the page in front of you and pick up where you left off earlier. 
You’re nearing the end of the page when Eris taps the side of your hand with his finger. He waits patiently for you to finish, and both of your heads shift when you flip the page. You fall into a comfortable rhythm. He taps your hand softly each time to indicate when he’s finished, and you alternate between who finishes first with each flip of the page. The rise and fall of your bare chest moves in time with his breath against your skin, and despite your nudity, you don’t feel an ounce of shyness.
As you read, you can’t help but think that this must be what heaven feels like: orange flames warming your skin as you lounge on a couch reading with a gorgeous, and very naked, male on top of you. But there’s just one tiny problem—the gorgeous, and very naked, male in question.
You feel your thoughts slip from the book and urge yourself to focus on Tydeus’s philosophy rather than dwell on your anxiety. You find yourself so immersed in one passage in particular, that you don’t notice the way Eris’s breathing slows, or how his head lulls against your chest. You reach the end of the page and wait patiently for his signal to continue. Your brows cinch as the seconds stretch into minutes. You look down and realize that the heir to the Autumn Court throne, in all his glory, is sleeping like a babe using your breasts as a pillow.
The book lays forgotten in your hands as you observe him. Even in his softest of moments, his features still hold a certain sharpness. But right now, he looks…peaceful. His cheek is pressed up against the flesh of your breast, and with his eyes closed, you notice that his eyelashes are much longer than you imagined. You long to trace your fingers over the freckles splattered across his nose, to feel the curve of his nose. It’s hard to think that the male before you is capable of any cruelty at all.
But he is. 
And you’re gazing at him wide-eyed like a lovestruck teenager.
 You wish you could speak to your sister right now. You’re not sure what you’d say—maybe nothing at all. Maybe looking into her eyes, which are so similar to yours, would reveal some hidden truth, buried deep under centuries of hatred. Or maybe they would hold disdain—disappointment directed at you, for rolling around with a male who hurt her deeply.
Eris snores softly, halting your train of thought. Your chest tightens and the flames of the fire start to burn your skin. You can’t stay here. More importantly, you have a job to do.
You set the book down on the floor beneath you, and cautiously shift your body. He grunts in his sleep, but doesn’t stir, as you carefully slip out from underneath him. You hiss as you tumble onto the ground below and pause to make sure he’s still asleep. His snores don’t falter, and you rise from the ground.
You make quick work of gathering your clothes, cringing at the dried arousal covering your inner thighs and panties. Just as you’re about to slip out of his chambers, you turn back to take one last glance at his sleeping form. You gnaw your lower lip, a pang of guilt tugging at your heartstrings. Against your better judgment, you search for a scrap piece of paper and pen to leave him a note, as he had done for you.
‘Till we meet again, Eris Vanserra
Your lips purse—simple, yet effective. You set the note down on the wooden table and drape a throw blanket over the sleeping male in case he has any unexpected visitors. You don’t dare look back as you creep towards the doors.
The creaking of the rusted hinges has you cringing as you ease them open, inch by inch, and peer into the hallway. It’s empty—thank the Mother—with the only movement coming from the flickering flames of torches on the walls. 
You slink into the shadows as you move to your left down the hallway. Assuming Azriel’s map is correct, Eris’s office is two floors above his personal chambers, about one mile to the left. Despite the sizeable distance, you don’t risk winnowing for fear of someone catching you.
As you move along the walls, there’s a heavy weight on your shoulders. You can’t help but feel guilty for playing with his feelings and using them to your advantage—especially following the vulnerability he showed you tonight. But you remind yourself that, even in life’s dimmest gray areas, your loyalty to your family is unwavering.
Your heart thumps in your chest as you scale the winding staircase, keeping an eye out for any guards or lurking Vanserras. As you make your way down the next hallway, identical to the last, you move as swiftly as you can. The sooner you’re gone, the better—but you can’t deny the unease that grows with each step. On one hand, you hope you’ll find something to report back to Rhys. But on the other, you dread finding something that may contradict your image of Eris thus far.
Your steps are featherlight, and by the grace of the Cauldron, you make it to your destination without any setbacks. You press your ear against the door before slowing pushing it open.
The room is much like Eris’s chambers: swirling yellows and reds along the walls, a blazing fireplace, and a deep mahogany rug carpet covering the stone floor. In the middle sits a large, mahogany desk, covered in parchment. You creep forward, careful not to make any noise. You run your fingers along the polished wood of the desk, glancing over the papers. Nothing stands out as you shuffle through them. You search through his cabinets, rifle through the small bookcase in the back, and even check beneath the cushions of the chairs. All you can seem to find is polite, and uninteresting, correspondences with various courts, and menial to-do lists. You check each possible hiding place but come up short once again. There’s absolutely nothing here.
You’re not sure whether to feel relieved or frustrated—or perhaps, both. You glance at the grandfather clock in the corner of the dimly lit room. 3:06. You contemplate redirecting your search to Beron’s office, but you remember from Azriel’s map that it’s six floors down, and approximately two miles away on the opposite side of the house. If you were to go now, there’s a chance the sun would be rising by the time you’re ready to leave, leaving you defenseless without the dark of the shadows. 
With a sigh, you check over the room once more to ensure nothing is out of place before making your exit. You leave just as you came, slinking into the shadows along the hallways as quiet as a mouse. As you navigate the winding tunnels, you wonder if Eris is still sleeping soundly by the fire, or if he’s aware of your absence. And as your thoughts drift to the crimson-haired heir, you find yourself moving faster—as if escaping the walls of the Forest House will erase him from your mind. 
The wind is even more chilling than usual in the dead of night, you realize as you finally make it out through a side door. You make quick work of the courtyard, using the shadows to your advantage to avoid detection by the sentries littered throughout. When you finally make it out, you will the air to twist and fold around you, winnowing you back to your ransack cabin just as the sun begins to peek out from the horizon. Your limbs are tired, but your mind is racing. You know that sleep will not be kind to you. So, you kick off your boots and plop yourself on the dirty floor in front of the fireplace.
You find yourself just as you were before; hovering your hands over the orange embers until the burn becomes too much, and you are forced to pull away. Again. Over and over. As if the pain will grant you some sense of clarity. As if nothing has changed since you were last sat here. As if you aren’t falling further into the fox’s trap with no way out.
Being born of Light and Dark can be a difficult thing. But there are far worse evils in the world, some lurking just around the corner. 
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another-goblin · 6 months ago
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A little analysis of Ratio's owl symbolism. He's absolutely covered (and surrounded) with stylized images of owls. Here are just some examples (feel free to study him to find more). He was even (apparently) supposed to wear an owl mask in an older version of his design. But why.
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1. In western culture, owls are traditionally associated with knowledge and wisdom, which indicates his connection with Erudition, as a scientist. That's the most obvious explanation for his owl imagery, and probably the only one intended by the designers. But why stop here. Why not overanalyze it.
2. Owls are known as highly specialized and effective predators. So basically, an embodiment of the Hunt.
Dr. Ratio (about the phase flame): Do you know what to do with cornered prey? Hunt it to the death.
Btw, considering that paths are not just a gameplay convention but the actual in-universe things characters recognize in themselves and others, it's even more ironic that the character who dedicated his whole life to science and education belongs to the Hunt. Because gameplay-wise, the Hunt is the opposite of Erudition. The poor guy couldn't have been further away from Nous even if he tried.
3. Owls are good at being unnoticed. They hunt by hiding, observing, and waiting for the right time to strike. It reminds me of that mission at Herta Station, where we first met him. Most people on the station didn't even know that he was there, even though he personally saved these researchers. 
Screwllum (about Ratio's involvement in that mission): …and pulling the strings from behind the curtain is akin to laying down the gauntlet to a genius.
There is a theory that more or less the same thing is happening on Penacony, with most characters probably not knowing that he's even there.
4. The special structure of an owl's wings and feathers makes their flight practically noiseless, so they can approach their prey unnoticed. In addition to point 3, with him moving through Herta station unnoticed, it also reminds me of how he silently disappeared a couple of times in the middle of his conversation with Aventurine.
5. They gave him vertical pupils, probably in an attempt to make his eyes more owl-like. The problem is, I wasn't able to find a single photo of an owl with vertical pupils. They are round. So, if anything, it makes him look more like a cat.
6. And the last point, it's most likely not true, it's my little conspiracy/crack-theory. 
But he's sometimes referred to as a Professor; he's as much of an Owl as Aventurine is a peacock. Game, please don't tell me he has nothing to do with Penacony's Professor Owl the origami birds often mention, whoever it is.
In fact, if he wasn't too young for that, I wouldn't be surprised if he had something to do with the creation of Dreaworld. Because he mentioned before that taking a bath helps him with going to sleep, and on Penacony you take a bath to go to sleep (what are the chances), and then you enter a world filled with images of owls. It's probably actually nothing, but what a coincidence.
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