#the rest of the fae pretty much ignore him. he's 'different'.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Slashers in a Fairyland!AU

Does this has something to do with something I'm working on at the moment? Yeah- noooo. No, definitely not.

Billy & Stu: Tricky, Two-Faced Pirates of the Forbidden Lake. *its a big damn lake. Carrie White: Half-Fae working under the Queen as a Maid *... until the Queen finds out, at least. Chucky: Wicked Witch. *Infamous for attempting to seduce the Queen into marriage when she was young, only managing a violent love affair, getting her pregnant (? This rumour has never seen proof), and getting himself exiled from the palace. Freddy Krueger: The Big Bad Wolf himself. Jason Voorhees: Lonely Giant of the Dark Woods. Jennifer Check: Siren of the Forbidden Lake. Michael Myers: Unseelie Fairy. Sawyers & Hewitts: The warring Troll (Sawyers) and Goblin (Hewitts) families. * Thomas is actually an Orc. He's adopted Tiffany Valentine: Her Majesty, the (Evil) Queen of the land.

[cressidagrey]

for the first time, what's past is past

Summary:

Of all the ways, Azriel expected to meet his mate, this wasn’t it.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing, Azriel has a horrible time

Notes:

Mostly Canon Compliant Through A Court of Silver Flame including the Azriel Bonus Chapter with some teeny tiny changes, which are explained in the story (a difference in the necklace arc). Set around 1 year into the future from that point, where it veers off wildly.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

His mate literally stumbled into him. 

Of all the ways, Azriel could come across her, that was not the one that he thought it ever would be. 

It was so…mundane. 

It was a spring evening in Velaris. Less than a year after Elain’s wedding. 2 years since that Solstice.  Nyx would be 2 in just a few weeks. 

To say that Azriel hadn’t been…doing particularly well, was an understatement. 

He hid it well. 

He buried himself in his work, he did everything anybody expected from him…he existed. 

It was fine. 

Everybody was busy with their mates or their significant other and Azriel…well, he kept busy with other things. It was better that way. 

The problem was only that even Rhys had suggested for him to take a break. Just that it wasn’t a suggestion. It had been an order. 

“Take the rest of the day off. I am sure there is something or somebody that could get your mind off your work.”

He had wanted to bristle. He had wanted to make a sharp-cutting comment about how Rhys had been the one making sure that Azriel didn’t have anything to do, nobody to go home to. He hadn’t. 

He had stopped doing that. Granted, his shadows hadn’t and had been bristling around him about how the High Lord didn’t know better than they did. Azriel had ignored that too. 

He didn’t protest anymore. Why should he even bother doing that? If Rhys wanted to send him on some bullshit mission, well, then Rhys was going to do that. Why should Azriel fight it? 

He was so tired of fighting. 

So there he was, in the Rainbow, looking for a birthday present for Nyx. Then he could cross that off the neverending list of things he needed to do. He hated gift-giving with a passion. 

He had never liked it here overly much, even when it was his High Lady’s domain. Feyre loved the Rainbow and the hustle and bustle of the artists’ quarter. For Azriel, it bordered on too much. Azriel only liked the bars with their constantly changing lineup of musicians performing for an evening.

Never anywhere twice, just for a few hours...  

He had done that a lot over the last few months. When sitting alone in his house didn’t help him. Cloaked in shadows, so people would leave him alone…sitting in one corner of the bar, and just listening to the music…

He never really patronised the shops around there, because…well, he didn’t really need anything. He never had. He bought the things he needed and that was that. And to be honest, he was completely content with a couple of daggers, Truthteller and his Illyrian fighting leathers.  

She stumbled against his chest when somebody bumped into her. The str 

Azriel didn’t react fast enough…and then it already happened. 

The mating bond snapped into place in an instant and he could just stare at her, hands reaching out to hold her up. 

His. 

Even his shadows agreed with him, hissing in agreement. 

Ours, Master

He was frozen in place as he drank her in. 

For once in his life, he wasn’t the only one surrounded by shadows. His were different than hers, Tartera shadows seemed to surround the fairies making it impossible to see anything but just sometimes a hand or a shoulder poking out. 

Hers were���far weaker than he had ever seen, just smudged at the edges. And then there were the pointy ears that stood out from a dark cloud of beautiful curls and the near-black skin that covered the rest of hers. 

So not Tartera after all? A high Fae? 

Either? Both?

It didn’t matter. He had never cared about anything less. 

And then her eyes had looked up at him. They smoldered like embers, nearly red and he could swear he saw flames licking into them. It was probably the most startling thing he had seen in centuries. And then she blinked, and they were completely pitch black, and the embers were gone. 

Full lips pulled into a wide smile, showing white teeth. 

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for you!” Those were her first words to him at that street corner. 

Waiting for him. 

His heart constricted. She…she was happy to meet him? 

He hadn’t expected that. 

He could feel the bond pulling against his ribs, pounding in time with his too-quick heartbeat. He couldn’t help himself. Azriel had never felt quite as wrong-footed with another fae in his life. 

But with her he was. She made him just want to stare at her. 

She was beautiful. 

She stepped back and immediately he ached with the lack of her warmth surrounding him and the feeling of…loneliness. He wanted to stare at her, wanted to drink in every inch of her because this was… her .  

He had waited, hoped, and prayed for her for so long that it had become second nature to him. 

He just had never thought that he was going to actually have this. 

“Are you alright?” she asked him softly. “You look pale.” He probably was. 

Azriel had fought for his life, waged war and lived for centuries…and still, this female that he didn’t even know could put him on the floor with nothing but a smile and a look out of black eyes. 

“Yes, I…I didn’t think I was ever going to…” he managed to bring out and she gave him a soft smile. 

“You let me wait a long time,” she teased him and he barked out a laugh. 

“You made me wait too,” he responded quietly and she laughed, a tinkling tone like a bell. 

“I am Oriana,” she introduced herself, holding out her hand and he took it dumbly, only a moment later realising that she hadn't flinched back from his scarred hands for even a second. Instead, she held it in her smaller and much, much darker one, her skin nearly as pitch black as her eyes. 

Oriana . 

It suited her. 

But then he would have thought that about any name because it was her . 

“Azriel,” he told her, still hanging on to her hand, feeling the soft skin underneath his fingertips. 

“You want to come with me? My apartment is around 5 feet to your right,” she told him and he could just nod as she pulled him along into her life, without even a moment of hesitation. 

Was this how it was supposed to be? 

He swallowed. 

It was the work of just a few steps, until she unlocked the door to a tiny jewellery store, holding it open for him. 

He followed along, the door closing, shutting out the hustle and bustle from outside, shutting them into a quiet room and…He smelled her for the first time, the scent of wood and…burning? seemingly clinging onto her. 

He had never thought that that would be an appealing scent, but it was. She smelled like a bonfire. Something wild and unbridled, warm and safe. 

“You live here?” he asked her, as she ventured into her shop, doing something, before she opened a door that showed a small staircase that he would just manage to traverse if he tucked his wings as tight to his body as possible. 

“It’s mine. I live above,” she explained. 

That did make sense with her Tartera ancestry. They were well known for living in the mountains of the Night Court, masterful goldsmiths that had a love for jewellery that revelled Amren’s.

The pieces were artfully made, all of them in a very specific style that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Though he was sure that he would always be able to pick out pieces she had made now. 

A lot of it was gold, arched, beautiful pieces that held stones in a wisp of nothing, beautiful scroll work and jewels in every colour of the rainbow. 

He took it in for just a moment longer before he followed her up. 

Oriana let him into her apartment, walls covered with pieces of jewellery and pieces of metal carefully formed into what probably passed as art and Azriel blinked twice as he saw precious gems carelessly piled high in a bowl in her entranceway. 

“Tea?” she asked then, but then she had already waved to a kettle that seemed willing to do all the work for her if she told it to do just that. Her bag was carelessly hung onto a chair and another wave got teacup to fly from her shelves onto the small table. 

“Yes, thank you,” he managed to bring out, his shadows skittering away from him for the first time in what felt like months as they started to investigate their surroundings. 

He wanted to pull them back, he probably should, shouldn’t scare her like that, but then she turned around and saw a tendril crawl along her wall towards a blue stone that seemed to glow from within, an amused smirk covered her face. 

“Curious, aren’t they?” she asked him and Azriel swallowed. 

He wanted to respond, but then she was giving a delighted little laugh and Azriel watched in horror as she lifted her hand to reveal a shadow winding its way around her wrist, threading through the golden bangles she wore, up her arms. 

Stop , he warned them sharply, and they froze. Didn’t disappear though. 

“You upset them,” Oriana said with a pout, her other hand carefully, gently touching his shadows. She hesitated for a moment before she started to pet the shadows like they were a cat or something. 

Azriel could just stare at her.  Oriana trailed her fingers across her arm nearly thoughtfully. 

Azriel wanted nothing but to be the one that she touched and not just her shadows. 

“I…forgive me. They shouldn’t be doing that,”  he apologised, heat beginning to blossom on his face. 

“Why?” she asked him, still looking at the shadow that had wrapped itself around her arm like it belonged to the collection of armcuffs she wore anyway. 

Only now he realise that while she wore multiple pieces of jewellery, most of it was simple, gold pieces, nearly architectural. Not that many stones, though there were some…

“Why?” he echoed back and she shrugged. 

“They aren’t doing anything. They’re sweet.” 

That was the last thing that he expected her to say. Especially when nobody in his life had ever called them that. Or willing to reach out to touch them. His shadows didn’t even want to touch. They had disappeared out of Elain’s sight whenever they could, probably because she had done her level best to outright ignore them. 

Cassian and Rhys…well they saw them as tools. Which they were.

But Oriana…she seemed to see them as…an extension of him. 

He watched bemused when a tendril of his shadows crawled up her arm and disappeared between her black curls, nearly blending in, pinning it out of her face. 

“I…people don’t say that,” he finally settled on. “They aren’t…normally sweet.”

They weren’t. They were the stuff nightmares were made out for most of the population. 

And she just…

The teakettle shrilled. Oriana moved, filling two chipped mugs with it and took a seat at the small table tucked away in a corner. “You should sit,” she told him easily. 

Another shadow was winding itself around her other wrist and he glared at it. There weren’t even words coming from them if one ignored them purring like a bloody cat. 

What in the world was happening?!

“You know, I spent my first century in the mountain. I know darkness,” she told him drily. “I always found it…comforting.”

He finally managed to move, tuck the wings out of the way and he sat down across from her. As he met her gaze, he once more stared into the fire. 

Until she blinked, and it was back to pitch black. 

“I apologise. I have a better handle on the eyes most of the time,” she apologised to him, taking her mug in both hands and gently blowing on it.

“Should I apologise for the wings?” he blurted out and she grinned at him. 

“Not on my accord,” she promised him sweetly. “But I have it on good authority that my eyes are fucking creepy . They kinda show up when emotions are high. I have it under control most of the time.”

Her eyes were…fascinating. It was like looking into a bonfire and not…not seeing anything else. Like he was staring into flames and eaten alive and somehow Azriel loved it. 

He didn’t think that he ever would. He didn't normally particularly like fire. The scars on his hands had taken care of that. He hated the cold even more though, so that was the trade-off he needed to make. 

When emotions are running high? 

For the first time, he tried reaching out through the mating bond and felt a twinge of nervousness coming from her. Nervousness and Giddiness and…happy. She was so happy to have him hear. 

It was startling. 

He cleared his throat. “Who told you that?” he asked her and she laughed. 

“My brother,” she told him with some amusement. “I got most of the…Tartera blood. He looks very much like a normal High Fae. Got out of the Mountain as soon as he could. He loves the fresh air too much to stay down there for too long,” she explained to him. “Mom is Tartera. Dad was a High Fae. It was the talk of decades when he ran off with him.” She said all of that so matter of factly like her heritage just was another thing about her. Like she was proud of it even

His thoughts about his heritage were a whole lot more… difficult. Harsher. 

Maybe because there wasn’t anything amusing about the way he had come into the world. Maybe because he wanted nothing more than to just ignore what had happened through his childhood and never wanted to think about it anymore. 

“And you?” she asked him, looking at him over the rim of her cup.

“Illyrian,” he answered her, because wasn’t that obvious?

“Yeah, the wings are a bit of a giveaway,” Oriana agreed with a smile. “But that wasn’t what I meant. Tell me about yourself,” she invited him and he could just stare at her, terrified. 

Alone the question terrified him and he couldn’t help it. 

What was he supposed to tell his mate that wasn’t going to send her running away screaming? 

Azriel was quite certain that he could do just that with one ill-thought-out sentence, and he didn’t want to do that. 

He really didn’t want to. He was a master strategist. His plans had backup plans and backup plans had backup plans, but right now, he felt utterly unprepared for what his mate was offering.

What was the right thing to say? He hadn’t gathered enough intel to know what sweet little lies would make her fall in love with him and to be honest, he didn’t want to lie to her. Not like this. She deserved better than that. 

Better than him. 

He was a monster dripping in blood and she…she was…dipped in temptation and gilded around the edges. 

He didn’t even know her and still he ached for her. 

For her and what she represented. 

“What do you want to know?” he asked hoarsely. Wondering to what god he needed to sell the bit of soul that was still belonging to him so that she wasn’t going to look at him in hatred and disgust. 

She mustered him, eyes dark, no more flames. He missed them suddenly. 

“What do you want to tell me?” she asked him softly, holding out a hand to him over the table, his shadows still wrapped around her wrist. 

He wanted to take it. 

He didn’t want her to shy away from his hands. She hadn’t, not the first time, but he didn’t think she had even really seen them, even…thought about it. 

And now they would be obvious to her. 

“This isn’t an interrogation, you know,” she told him with a soft laugh and finally, he inched his hand over the table towards her. Her fingers curled around his, the constant dull discomfort that they were in forgotten as he just felt soft skin…callouses though and one or two of her scars. 

She mustered them for a moment, and there was a twinge of something… through the bond. Empathy maybe? It wasn’t the disgust or fear that he had expected though. It was far sweeter than that. She held onto his hand and he didn’t want to pull it back. 

“What is it then?” he managed to bring out and her hand pressed his. 

“Right now? Mostly a getting to know you,” Oriana said. “The cauldron seems to think that we would be a fit for each other. I reserve the right to judge that for myself.”

Right. He didn’t know how he was feeling about that. Maybe it was better that way..that she wasn’t just going to blindly follow the cauldron. But like this, she could also decide that he wasn’t worth the hassle and that…that terrified him. 

“That’s…fair,” he finally settled on, finally taking a sip of tea. Peppermint. Sharp and warm. 

She smiled at him. “How about I start and then you can ask whatever you want?” she suggested. He managed to nod. He could do that. 

“Well, you already know my name. I am the result of a very, very scandalous pairing of my mother with a High Fae enchanter. It was a whole thing when it went down,” she said with some amusement. “I have a full older brother named Cyrus and a couple of nieces and nephews running around from him.” It was obvious that she liked her brother. Her face lit up when she talked about him. 

And he was soaking up every bit of information he could get about her. 

At least this time, he didn’t need to resort to anything…illicit. She was offering it all up for the taking. And he was a selfish male that he wanted every bit he could get off her. 

“I have some half-siblings as well but they are in the mountains and I spend most of my time around here nowadays, so I don’t see them that often,” she explained. So she was obviously closer to Cyrus. It made sense. 

“I was trained as a Goldsmith by my mother’s people,” she continued. Of course. Tarteras were known for the jewellery they made. They were literally the gold standard of their trade. It was also ridiculously expensive.  “And as an enchantress by my father. These days, I mostly do jewellery though. I got some autumn blood through my father as well, which leads to a very… interesting combination of my natural abilities,” she told him. “Also explains the creepy eyes.”

He wanted to laugh at the way she rolled said creepy eyes. They stayed black this time. He wondered if it was an enchantment or if she summoned the black eyes through magic. Or maybe the flames were an emotional response?

It made him curious. 

“Do I get a peek?” he asked her. She raised one dark eyebrow at him and he blushed, as he replayed his words in his head. Right . “Of your natural abilities?” he added quickly.

“Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” she teased him. For a moment, he regretted even asking, but he had done it.

“It’s just fair, you have seen my shadows,” he said, not allowing himself to overthink it. 

“Well, then you can see my flames,” she agreed with another laugh. He hadn’t expected her to pull back her hand from his grip. Azriel couldn’t help but mourn the loss, even when she was doing as he requested. 

Just a moment later, she had flames dancing in the palm of her hand. 

 He could just stare at them. Right. 

She had meant that literally . 

Even his shadows froze, pulling back slightly higher up her arms, not wanting to get in the way of the flames that happily burned in her hands. 

She closed her fist, the flame dying. “Surprisingly useful in the forge,” she said lightly. “Took me a few decades to get a proper handle on it though.“

Yeah, he imagined that. 

“How old are you?” he blurted out. A few decades ? At least it made him feel less like a cradle robber. 

“You are horrible for making a lady admit her age, you know,” Oriana said drily. “200 years. Give or take a few,” she admitted easily. 

“540,” he responded and she smiled brightly, showing a row of white teeth. 

“Well, any questions?” she asked him. 

Oh, he had questions. A lot of them. 

He didn’t quite know with what to start. But she seemed content to wait until he had managed to figure out what he wanted to ask her. 

“Did you spend a lot of time living in the mountains?” he finally asked her. She had said her first century. But had it been longer or…

She nodded. “Most of my childhood, Most of my adult years as well,” she admitted. “I married when I was 18.” He just stared at her. 

Just…please, everything but…

“You don’t need to worry, he’s dead,” she quipped drily. He opened his mouth to apologise but she waved him off. “We were married for 80 years. Then he died. It was…difficult. My heart wasn’t in my work anymore. Wystan was my husband, but he was also my research partner in many ways.” She stared off into space for just a moment. 

“Do you miss him?” he asked her quietly. She reached out for his hand again, his heart painfully thudding in his chest. Her fingers curled against his scarred ones, never once hesitating. 

“Not in the way you think,” she said after a moment. “ It was an arranged marriage. I was… fond of him. He was a good friend to me. A better friend than he was a husband. You don’t need to worry about him or my feelings for him,” Oriana promised him. “I had a century to grief for him.”

It was the truth. He could hear that in every word. She had griefed him and moved on. 

 “I spent nearly 500 years pining over a woman who couldn’t possibly be less interested,” he blurted out.   

He had no idea where that was coming from. Or why he even wanted to tell Oriana about Morrigan, because quite frankly it was an idiotic thing to do. He shouldn’t be doing this. He should be…

“Well, let nobody ever tell you that you aren’t loyal,” Oriana responded after a moment. “Are you still in love with her?” she asked him, not a grain of judgment in her voice. Nothing of that sort. 

“No,” he said softly. “I…got over her. Fell in love. Again. She had a mate. She chose him.” And that summed up his romantic life that wasn’t…just taking somebody home because he wanted it. Though he had never one much of that. Of course, his brothers thought differently, but they didn’t need to know the full truth. 

“I am sorry. That must have...hurt,” she said sincerely. 

She kept surprising him, not saying at all what he thought she would say. Shouldn’t most mates be…jealous of some kind? But she seemed to just be happy to be in his presence and talk to him. 

“Aren’t you going to tell me that since she isn’t my mate, I should get over her?” he asked her curiously. 

She just shrugged. 

“I have seen matings that were a catastrophe waiting to happen and I have also seen grand love stories. The mating bond…it doesn’t…” she seemed to struggle with her words. “...guarantee a happy ending,” she finally settled on. “In many cases, it helps. In other it doesn’t,” she said quietly. “My parents weren’t mated. My father still loved my mother enough to give up his life for her.”  She mustered him quietly, eyes pitch black and even. He had only rarely in his life felt that assessed. “You aren’t over her, are you?” Oriana asked him quietly. 

“I…I don’t know.” Alone saying the words hurt. 

She nodded. “You are honest. I like that,” Oriana said evenly. “I would much rather you tell me the truth even when it hurts me momentarily than lie to me and let me believe that everything is alright, even when it isn’t. Tell me the truth, and I won’t ever be angry with you about it,” she promised him. It was a heady promise. 

He wanted to give her all his truth, even when he knew , he couldn’t. He couldn’t possibly give her every secret he held. But he wanted to. 

Azriel wanted to get to know her. Wanted to see where it would lead. 

“You don’t owe me anything,” Oriana continued. “Not your time and not your attention. If you want nothing to do with me…I understand that.” She said the words and he knew that she meant them, but he could still feel the prickly of hurt down their mating bond. 

Azriel could just stare at her shocked. 

He had never even thought about the possibility that he was going to be the one refusing his made. And there it was. 

“You know nothing about me,“ he finally said quietly. “Otherwise you wouldn’t put that choice on me.”

If she knew the whole truth, she would be running away from him right now.

Her eyes lit up suddenly, pinning him underneath the weight of her gaze. 

“Don’t I, Shadowsinger?” Oriana asked him pointedly. It was the first time she had even mentioned his ability, no one counted her sweetness to his shadows.  “I can put 2 and 2 together. An Illyrian Shadowsinger. You work for the High Lord,“ she said drily. 

Azriel swallowed. Inclined his head. 

She sighed. “You have secrets. Some I can guess at and others I have no clue about,” she told him. “Do you like your job?”

The question came so out of the blue that Azriel could just stare at her for a moment. 

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. Sometimes he did. Sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes he wondered if this was the prize he needed to pay. Sometimes… “I am not a…good male.” This time it was him that struggled for words. 

“You don’t need to be good for me.” 

Somehow Azriel knew that she meant every word. And wasn’t that a startling thing? 

“Tell me one thing and we won’t ever need to discuss it again. If you can’t be good…can you be righteous?” Oriana asked him, fiercely.

“I…I think so.”

“Then that’s all I care about.”

The truth rang out high and clear, like a mountain river. 

“You are saying the truth,” Azriel said, shocked. She couldn’t…but she looked at him, eyes flaring. 

“I am,” she promised.  “I don’t like lying.”

For a moment they just mustered the other, right there in that little apartment in the rainbow. 

He didn’t know her. 

Not truly. He didn’t trust Oriana either, because he was conditioned to not trust anybody. But…But there was something there, something in him that pulled him towards her. More than even the fledgling mating bond. And Mother knew he wanted that mating bond. 

But Oriana was calm and even and intelligent and fiery and pragmatic and brilliant and…gorgeous. 

And Azriel wanted her. In any way, he could have her. In many ways that he didn’t even allow himself to think about. 

“...can I come see you again?” he requested softly, his hand curling around hers and the smile that she gave him was wide and unbridled. 

“Of course, you can. I thought you would never ask,” she teased him. 

And still, Azriel couldn’t help but ask: “Why do you even bother giving me a chance? You could have…somebody else.” He struggled to bring the words out. 

She was gorgeous, there was no way around it. She mustered him for a moment, the hand that he wasn’t holding playing the necklace around her throat. Gold. A rope as thick as his thumb. Dotted with clear stones that sparkled in the sunlight.

“You could have somebody else as well,” Oriana responded evenly.  

“Somebody more beautiful than you? I doubt that.” The words were just flowers over his lips and he could feel the tip of his ears redden. 

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Flatterer.” She looked at him fondly, before growing seriously. “You think a lot of faes like the idea of a half-breed?  The answer is no.”

“Don’t call yourself that,” he snapped. “Not unless you want me to call myself an Illyrian Bastard,” he softened his voice. 

She inclined her head. “I’ll be there whenever you want to come over,” she promised him.

And that was it. He said his goodbyes, even when he wanted nothing more than to stay right there with her in her tiny kitchen and listen to her talk about anything she wanted. 

Because he was sure that if she didn’t tell him to go, he never would. 

He would be content there, staying right there with her. 

But he couldn’t do that. So he forced himself to go, leave her apartment and her shop and finally, he was back on the cobblestone streets of Velaris, his head still filled with his mate’s scent and her smile.  

He wanted to hoard her like a dragon hoarded his treasures. Hoard away her scent and her smile and every gesture, the flames in her eyes and her laugh. 

That’s what she was. His treasure. 

Keep her safe and keep her to himself and…He didn’t need anybody to know, did he? 

Could he get away with keeping her a secret? Just for a little while? Just while he figured it out? 

Just until…Just until he knew what they wanted, and how they wanted it? 

And maybe until the mating bond was consummated? The fear was potent for just a moment. He didn’t actually think that Rhys was going to tell him not to pursue how own fucking mate. He wouldn’t do that. Right? 

But when the Elain thing had taught him one thing then that he really shouldn’t trust that…everybody had his happiness first on their mind. Granted everything with Elain had seemingly been a catastrophe waiting to happen, with a mate that she hadn’t wanted at that point in time, but who was also the son of a High Lord and the brother to another and Elain herself being Feyre’s older sister and…Maybe if he wasn’t still bitter about the whole thing he could have seen where Rhys was coming from. 

Still, Rhys had used his status as the High Lord to make an order about Azriel’s private life once. What would stop him from doing it again? 

Nothing. 

And Azriel wasn’t…Azriel wasn’t going to take that risk. He was not. 

He was willing to maybe use his own life to bargain but not hers. Not Oriana. 

He had kept worse secrets for less. 

And she was the most important of them all. 

So he would keep her a secret. 

The first secret in his long life that brought him joy. 

[muscle-red]

𓂃꒰ GENERAL’S ORDERS ꒱𓂃

* Warnings: amab body, Fae reader, Reader is referred to with I/You, etc, Yuu is a separate person, Reader kinda an OC, a long plot, slow burn, Spoilers if You haven’t read book 7.

* Word count: 1009

A/N: This has been in my head for some time. There will be smut just not in Part one. Hopefully will make more parts.

┆ Lilia Vanrouge/ General Vanrouge x Male Reader ┆Part 1

+18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Being In the middle of the woods should’ve been a red flag as soon as you opened your eyes Cause One second, You were At NRC then the next You were at a random forest being aimed at with weapons. I mean at least you were with People.

You glanced at the group surrounding you and the people with you. Yeahhh the odds weren’t looking so well.

Silver. The boy You never really interacted with. He was sorta Hard to talk to. His face gave off the impression that he didn’t want to be disturbed. He look quite Approachable when sleeping but why would You wake up a sleeping person? You noticed he did it a lot and I mean A Lot. Maybe he had narcolepsy? You never thought much of it. I mean why would you, You never talk to the boy so it isn’t any of your business.

You then glanced at the other green haired male within your group.

Sebek.

What a loud mouth he was. You often catch him yelling in the hallways and seemingly having a strong harden expression on his face whenever he made eye contact with everyone in class. He was a first year so you guys had most of your classes together while the other silver haired boy was a second year. They were both in your dorm last time you checked. You would think being in the same dorm would mean you guys knew each other really well but in this case? not really.

Then finally Your eyes met the other Person in your group. Yuu. A magic less student that seemingly appeared out of thin air. No home, no family. You kinda felt bad for them. Imagine having nothing and being in a mysterious place with No Knowledge of anything. Now that was a total nightmare. They were a first year as well as you interacted with them on some occasions so you were familiar with their Situation and Arrangements. They were nice from what you can tell but the other 2 were a mystery.

You then Took your eyes off the random group that seemed to have roped you in some kinda crazy situation and finally looked at the people with masks and weapons that were obviously wanting you guys dead. They all wore different masks with seemingly different animals.

One stood up and Made way to your group. They were on the shorter side and had long black locks with red highlights. How pretty. You always liked the color red.

You couldn’t see their eyes nor face but you can tell they were studying your group’s movements.

“ HUMANS!-“ Another in a mask screeched.

He was taller than the one studying you and had a mask related to a fox due to the Snout on his mask. His sword was raised as if ready to strike us any moment where we stood however before he could, The shorter one raised his hand and turned away from our group to stare the other one down, well he tried to.

“ You fools… Take a closer look at the energy around them. They have been blessed by our people. They are not the enemy.”

His voice was deep and familiar.

“Blessed…? Who are you…?”

“However, they still raise suspicion.” He ignored Silver’s question and turned away from his comrade. He had quite a big sword compared to his small body and it Was a beautiful shade of green.

Sebek’s eye’s widen when his eyes made contact with it.

“A magical lithic…!?”

“Quiet, Human. You are not to speak.” The Black haired masked figure Said, once again shutting down Whatever we had to say.

The rest of the group with them looked down upon us and started Yelling out questions expecting us to explain every single one.

“Who are you children? Answer me.”

“Speak now if you do not wish to get hurt.”

Yuu’s cat, Grim, which you now noticed was here Started struggling and proceeded to yell out about not wanting to be eaten and you couldn’t agree more.

“W-we mean no harm. We are just students from a magic school!”

Sebek was able to Stammer out and you couldn’t be more grateful. Your voice just seemed to disappear and couldn’t say anything so for once, you were grateful for Sebek’s voice.

“We’re from Night Raven College, We have our IDs with us if you’d like to check!”

Great thinking yuu!

“Night Raven College, you say…?”

“Yes, from the Sage’s Island…”

“I’ve already said I’m not interested in a school founded by humans!, You wish to “teach” me magic when all your lot can do are childish tricks? Sending in lackeys as if the letters weren’t enough. How absurd. You really think you have anything you can teach me? Don’t look down on me, brats.”

“Ehh??? We never said anything! Where is this coming from!? “

Oh god, why did you have to say that. You couldn’t help but Facepalm in your head. Great thinking *Reader*.

“N-No, we’re-”

“I’ve got my hands full dealing with those pesky Silver Owls. I don’t have time to play your silly games.” He cut silver off once again and glared as if ready to just let his comrades kill us and move on.

“I’ll let you off just this once. Get out of here, humans.”

And with that, you guys took the opportunity to Run quite a distance away and blow off the Air that you guys so badly needed. It felt intoxicating being near strangers especially ones threatening you with weapons.

[bananaactivity]

I finally finished good old Harry Hook, Now he’s Harry Killian Hook after his dad.

The reason I designed his father first was mostly so I could make them look similar. I suppose I still could have done that with Harry first but shut up I do what I want.

You’ll take notice that Harry looks WILDLY different from his usual self. His nose is slightly hooked and he has curly hair with an eyebrow slit like his father. He also has his dads random ass moles sunken eyes with long lower lashes and a little stubble. He has cuts on his face from training crocodiles. There are some way worse ones when he’s shirtless (he loves it tho, mans is a glutton for pain and suffering even his own💀🙏) I’m gonna withhold what he trained them for at this point in time💀💀💀. I also wanted him to look a little less goofy, he’s a pretty destructive dude and OG Harry is too Camp for me to see his exact likeness doing all I plan for him to do.

He and his dad look very similar which adds another reasoning for people fearing him. His fit is also very different from his usual punk leather, capri pants for some reason??? And absolutely disgusting white hoody shirt thing with fingerless leather hand things.

This is because Carlos refuses to style him any other way 💀. As a part of my au Carlos is now a fashion designer like his mother. His mother used to style Killian before he left for Neverland and in this Au Carlos loves and is obsessed with his mom 💀. So from a young age he’s always told Harry he’d be his stylist in the future when Harry was in power. Harry pays Carlos well and they are actually friends. ( Mal hates how close they are because she believes Harry could use Carlos to take over her turf, and Jay is jealous because Harry is HIS arch enemy or something, he doesn’t know what his problem is)

This Harry is a really rough person to handle, there are a lot of gangs on the isle but there is a separation. The sea gangs and the land gangs rarely get into it and mostly scuffle within each other. Mal and the rest of the core four rule over the most expansive land gang and Harry takes over his father’s old turf and expands it rather quickly. His dad’s gig was illegally giving transport to Auradonians who want a night of fun on the isle, it’s very profitable. He actually mirrors his father a lot, Killian would take down entire ships all alone so that his crew would know that mutiny would lead to so much destruction that there would barely be a crew to lead. Harry follows suit but received so much letal training from so many different people ,as his dad let him come on every trip he took to pick up his “imports”, that he’s much deadlier then his father.

Mal in my au is more like the dark fae/ Demi god that she was implied to be and is therefore heavily reliant on her powers. Harry scares her a little as she can’t understand how someone seemingly so powerless could strike so much fear. Carlos tries to tell her that Harry doesn’t gaf about physical land and his passion is the vast expanse of the sea but she becomes paranoid and shit happens 💀💀💀. Here’s a little scene of that real quick:

Carlos was exasperated. Harry was particularly interested in leathers and tight pants now and it was just awful. The poor dear had no clue it made him look like a disfigured hooligan. Not that Carlos was adverse to furs of course, Harry had given him so many exotic samples over the years… BUT GOD DAMMIT. The way Hook intertwined the two styles made him want to chuck up his lunch. He headed towards his room hoping to settle into a peaceful use of the remainder of the night, testing out some of the fabric and fur samples the Captain had gifted him. Mal made it quite clear it wouldn’t be so easy for him. “We need to talk Carlos.” He knew of only one topic that made her face contort that way. Better to feign ignorance, Mal didn’t like for him to be more clever than her typically . “ What of Darling… and do make it snappy, I’m so dead tired… I’ve been with my dearest client all day. Bless his heart he’s just so very awful with dressing him self the poor dear.” With a huff of her nose she began her rambling. “ About that, “dear client” of yours Carlos, Harry?. You need to stop seeing him.” “ HA!” Carlos couldn’t believe she was back on this tryst of hers with full force so soon, normally she would back off this hard for at least a month or two. “ Surley darling you must mean another dear client! Why Mal I almost believed you meant HARRY HOOK. My closest and most oldest clientele, my dear friend, my most generous patron! No, No darling you just can’t mean Captain Harry Hook, it’d almost sound as tho you meant to take away my most profitable source of revenue and resources~.” Mal was shifting on her feet, sometimes Carlos longed for others to see how vulnerable this king pin was, how nervous and unsure… but then he’d have no where to go and he refused to travel the seas with Harry on the daily day to day. He was much too expensive to upkeep and he wasn’t sure if Harry could stop his crew from murdering him eventually. “ You rely too much on hi-“ “RELY” Carlos scoffed, “ I said Harry was my MOST profitable, NOT my ONLY, anyone would be a fool to drop him as a client.” Mal was glowing with her “anger” now it wasn’t very frightening anymore. “ HES USING YOU TO GET TO ME AND ALL IVE WORKED FOR. Don’t you remember Jake? IZZY?? CHUBBS???? He’s cold and heartless. He’ll take over my turf… and then the whole Isle of the Lost! He’s a danger to our existence and YOU are always consorting with him!! Has he brainwashed you!! What have you told him about us?! HE COULD DESTROY US AT ANY MOMENT!!!” Carlos was exhausted, Mal was falling further into the pit of anxiety that comes with power. Harry avoided that pit rather admirably in Carlos’s eyes. He was so sure of what he wanted as far as power goes and Carlos just PRAYED that Mal would understand that. “ Mal… Harry is a PIRATE he doesn’t care about you beyond you leaving the Shrimp alone and never invading him. Something I disadvise HEAVILY for you to do. He WILL wipe you out if you don’t get ahold of yourself and THINK critically for once!” He breathed out once to calm himself before continuing. “ Mal- Darling, you’ve had me run the analytics of many a situation… I have personal experience with Harry and his behaviors and desires. He is a… very calculating pirate. The Sand Weaver incident occurred at a very strenuous time in Hooks life, he was VERY intentional during that time. All that he wanted ,truly, was planned for over those four years. Harry loves the sea, if he wanted to he would have infiltrated Villanend back then. He didn’t.” He could see the cracks in Mals resolve. It was looking as though he could get to those fabrics after all. “ I don’t like that he has such easy access to a member of my crew- my family…” This development was new to the norm of these conversations with Mal “Darling, I’m all he has left. Ive always wanted to style and now we’re both fulfilling what we wanted as children. Hook is no threat unless you MAKE him one.”-

END ( I’m running outta time lemme know what you think)

[osatokun]

Tell us more about Glinda!

the original one, not the tiefling one?

She is an npc in the vampire the masquerade ttrpg chronicle I'm playing with my friends. I play that chubby sweet vampire man.

I put the story under the cut, as it's pretty dark

She is a changeling form the House Balor. Once she was a queen of the changelings of the New Orleans, back in 90s. She was so strong that she even created a wildly strong chimerical creature, a Dragon, who, ofcourse, could take a human form. Glinda always had prophetic dreams and she knew that soon her changeling people will extinct, the era of wonder will be over. Should I mention, that changeling soul wakes up early in kids, and closer to 20-25 years it usually goes back to sleep, resting inside human body unless that human dies. The human doesn't remember they were a fae creature once.

So, the young teen Glinda was talked into the apocalypse. Pentex or nephandi (both?) talked her into giving birth to a changeling-spirit creature, that will destroy big part of the world, but the other half survives and start believing in wonders again, giving strenght to changelings. This way changelings could survive.

Could they make it differently? Ofcourse they could. But they didn't miss on a chance to rape a teen and destroy her child's soul. Plus, the time was right, the Eye of Balor appeared in the sky (or the Red Star, as vampires named it). But the other changeling House, house Beaumayn, who also known to be seers, riot and freed her chimera. The Dragon burned (by that time pregnant) Glinda in chimerical flame, which had to kill her changeling soul and her spirit-child. But the spirit survived and ran away into the depths of the Umbra, and Glinda's changeling soul fell asleep. The connection with this spirit creature helped her changeling part to survive.

Beaumayns took the lead of the changelings of the city, "imprisoned" Glinda and made the Dragon her jailer. For regular people it looked like a marriage(it sounds funny when I word it this way) .The Dragon, Gregory Dequir in human form, did his best to make Glinda feel like she is nothing, a zero, not even a person and tried to control her every step. Time passed, changelings woke up and fell back asleep, and pretty soon Dragon was the only one who remembered this story and had a good chance to shape it however he wanted. Everyone hated her, a lot respected him, but no one knew the reason she made this choice, no one even knew what exactly she made. (Gregory, also known as Dragon)

But despite everything she grew up into a very kind loving person. 20 years passed. She became an art teacher, always caring about her students and protecting them, just as she did when she was a queen. She kept her courage too, and now and then tried to sneak from the Dragon. Even tho she had no personal budget, even tho he tried to control all her contacts, she found ways for sneaking from time to time. Should I say, that's how she met Charlie, who was looking for changelings at this point and..at the same time was hungry and horny ?

They met in the art gallery. Quickly she lured him in a more private place ( don't laugh, it was the rest room).She needed to be quick while Dragon wasn't around. Charlie never bit her, no. He ended up fighting frenzy and crying, trying to ignore his visions. He got scared by the big, never healing scar on her chest. There is nothing he can do about it, he just can't feed on people who has skin problems, its one of his core mental issues that can't be healed. But still he didn't want to upset her too much so he didn't ran away screaming, he put all his fading strength just to cry like a little child. She tried to calm him, but when he started to say that he feels sorry for her, the wound looks so bad it must be really painful (etc etc) it hit her pride and she walked away.

Charlie however tried to figure who she is, what she is. He tried to find a changeling who asked him for help, but poor vampire didn't know how exactly this changeling looks like. So he made a thing that he makes very rare - he looked into her soul to learn her true self. And he fell in love, insanely, in that very moment, as he never seen anyone more brave, more beautiful , just like a little brave robin with her burnt mark over her heart, she fought the horrific Dragon.

I won't bore you with the year long story of the gaming sessions. In short, he found the way to return memory to Glinda and the younger changeling (the one who asked for help, Monica). It requires to go to the umbra and survive in Arcadia's wood, but no matter, he did it.

Other noble changelings seemed to look for the way to get rid of the Dragon without doing it themselves. Dragon had too much power, both physical and social, and he became (or always were) the banal chimera so he hurt changelings just by existing near them. So the conflict of the chimera and the vampire, who seemed to be too stupid to retreat, attracted their attention. Charlie ended up fighting the Dragon on the changeling court, and the king of the house forces another very old vampire to give my dude a sword. That sword contained a demon(which ofcourse Charlie didn't know) and, when Charlie was one hit from gis final death, he made a contract with the creature from the sword. One hour and ten minutes inside his body, for the feath of the Dragon and Dragon only. Charlie knew it was a horrible idea, but couldn't stand the idea of Glinda's death, Monica's death and his firend's, Veronica's death. So the demon turned dragon into a regular human being, this way killing the Dragon and making him a regular mortal, and used vampire's body to run away. Oh, the swords keeper aka demons jailer wasn't happy at all..but Charlie deserved all what he got.

Anyway, lets get back to Glinda. After the death of the Dragon, the jailer, Glinda was free ( so do Gregory). He divorced her and she could start her new life. Charlie gave her the healing that restored broken connections of her changeling soul and ran straight into the Umbra, to restore her memory. Monica and her friends (a werewolf, a ghost, a changeling-satyr and chimera) followed her a day after. Time works differently in Umbra, so Glinda spent a whole month here, the kids spent a week or so. They met to that spirit face to face, they fought, and they escaped. Glinda even managed to steal the symbol of her connection to the spirit, a Golden Chalice. All that time Charlie waited near the portal-painting for their return.

A couple days after Charlie and Glinda stared to date. She told him her story, he told her his, and also shared his true name to show his feelings for her. They quickly moved together and shared bits of their curses: Charlie took a bit if the spirit curse, she took a little bit of his demonic one. And finally, they got married. There are still incredible amount of dangers, the mummy is trying to get their (kinda now adopted) daughter Monica, the spirit getting closer and closer to the surface, Charlie's demon is still walking the earth and, ofcourse, vampiric community isn't happy with changelings at all ( I don't think changelings thinks positively about Charlie too).But they have their little family, their smol house, they even managed to create a new chimerical cat together, they are determined to survive and win. (curse sharing was a pretty sweet scene they both sung a song and put bits of their powers into small bat pins)

They even got the True Love merit!

Edit:

In the end, they worked with the occult council of the city ( vampires, werewolves and mages were there) to slay Glinda's spir. Charlie made a deal with a local settite leader Manon asking to help out with Glinda's ritual in return. Council succeed but flooded the city (not too badly, but still 😔). And Charlie's demon was trapped by other much more powerful vampires and he did his best to resist demon till the end.

Now happily married couple is traveling together, looking for the new deadly adventures x)

[siriannatan]

Ghost of Tumble Town - one shot

Yeah... @doodleshrimps' Bandit AU inspired me to write something about this idea of mine.

Warning, it is a bit sad at the start.

AO3 link for anyone who prefers to read there.

Canon differences (might contain spoilers):

warden wasn't brought to Tumble Town by fWhip,

it killed Jimmy, respawn is not a thing in this au, not for most. Joel and Scott can respawn but that's a god/fae thing and Scott's keeping it a secret,

totems are a thing and can stop you from dying. Very valuable and rare,

Norman and Flick returned as ghosts with Jimmy and the rest of the citizens.

Jimmy missed the hermits' 'visit' while dead/ getting used to being a ghost, not wanting to freak them out.

Scott didn't care how many jabs Joel tossed at him for still visiting Tumble Town even after Jimmy was gone. It wasn't like the 'god' knew Scott was a fae and how distant and foreign concept death was to him. Fae are immortal. He would never die. As long as he had access to magic it is… But that wasn't really death. Not how mortals understood it. A fae without magic just fades away until there are just faint memories of them left. Why Scott was so careful with keeping his real identity a secret? Being known as a weirdo with llamas was better than being known as a powerful fae. Especially with a witch around. As un-witchy as Shubble was it was better to be safe than risk his wings. 

Jimmy, the sheriff was probably the only one who figured him out. Shockingly, considering how dense he was. And didn't treat him any differently. Mostly. He did keep iron away from places Scott would visit in town. Would put his badge away when Scott was around. He did not mind how particular Scott was about specific order of things, and names, and greetings and… and all the fae stuff. Even if Scot never showed him his wings.

Which is probably why he never hid them when visiting Jimmy's grave. It was nothing special. just a mound of mesa sand with a crude cross marking the stop. No one wanted to stick around after the Warden just out of nowhere, seemingly, showed up and wrecked the town. Killing all the citizens and the sheriff. Vanishing without a trace soon after. Only then did the other emperors dare to come and check for survivors. There were none. Not even Jimmy's cats…

It was nearly two months ago. Before the rift business happened. And yet, despite never caring much for mortal races, humans even less than others, Scott found himself coming back again and again. To leave fresh flowers and take away the dry, ruined by howling wind old flowers from the last visit. And quietly tell the silent grave what has happened in the past week. Followed by sitting quietly until the silence and lack of colour drove him almost insane. 

Just to repeat it next week.

And so, Scott sat, his wings covering the grave in pretty colours with the light of the setting sun. Thinking it's about time to go back to Chromia. Not that they couldn't survive one night without him. Owen shouldn't be too much of an issue for some time…

"You brought poppies today…"

A sudden, familiar but impossible voice had Scott jolting to his feet and looking around. No one was on the ground so he looked at the full of holes ruin of Jimmy's house. There, on the roof, sat Jimmy. Looking almost as he did the day he died. But not quite. There was something off. Something unnerving but Scott ignored it. Too happy to see him.

"Jimmy? But you…" if he wasn't a fae and didn't have complete control of his emotions he'd probably crumble down crying. "You said they're your favourites once…"

Jimmy shrugged and jumped down. There was no sound as he landed, and Scott could swear he saw him sink into the ground a little bit. "I got better, I think…" he hummed. There was this weirdly distant quality in his voice. Like he was both here and somewhere else. "You weren't kidding, your wings are really pretty," Jimmy hummed going to touch Scott's wing but… his hand passed right through the fae. "Yeah… still figuring that out…" the sheriff chuckled taking a step back.

Scott didn't need to be told what 'that' was. What Jimmy was now. He did die. And now was back, as a ghost. And not just some ghost. As the blonde idly floated a few inches off the ground, likely forgetting to keep himself on the ground, Scott could see the magic radiating off of him. Cold and dry, neither good nor bad. Death didn't take sides. It just took people away. The good, the bad and all in between. "It's okay. I was a bit lost and overwhelmed when I left fae realms," Scott shook his head, smiling a bit. He was just happy to talk to Jimmy again. "It's good to see you again," he said reaching out to at least try to touch Jimmy's face. 

It worked and he could feel Jimmy's face. It was like cold wax. Not budging in the slightest under his touch. Scott met a few ghosts before settling where Chromia is now but Jimmy was different. Slightly translucent but not at all see-through. And much more present. Most of the other ghosts Scott knew would already forget who he was and move on to different things. Not Jimmy. He was staring at Scott even if his glassy, dead eyes occasionally glanced at the simple grave.

"Must have been a chock with how much you like colours…" Jimmy hummed tearing his eyes off the grave.

"Eh, winter fae's lands are always covered in snow, all in shades of white and grey with some green at best," Scott shrugged making a bit of snow whirling in one hand. "How are you feeling?" he asked letting it disperse. "We saw the aftermath… it was even worse than now…"

Jimmy shrugged, forcing himself to the ground. "I saw it, I think… the just after is a bit fuzzy, I was being pulled away but… something kept me here… It felt like the after is not meant to me for some reason…" he hummed walking out into the ruined town. Slowly more and more ghosts appeared, greeting their sheriff as if they were not all dead. "Like this was the end and there was nothing more…" he carried on talking as Scott silently followed. Watching the ghosts clean up the rubble.

The biggest shock was when two cats ran out of the sheriff's home, through a solid wall, and meowed, in that distant ghostly undertone. Rubbing against Scott's legs. They always liked him. Part of being a fae is being loved by all animals. Alive or dead, it turns out.

"Should I tell others you're…back or give you some more time to settle back into things?" he asked glancing at the sun. It was getting really low. Maybe he could stay the night now that the sheriff was back in town?

"Maybe wait a few days? Until this place isn't as much of a mess?" Jimmy grimaced stopping in front of the bank. It was pretty ruined, but, shockingly, nothing that was inside when the Warden attacked was missing. Scott heard some of the other emperors whisper about the place being cursed. "You can stay the night… if you don't mind all the ghosts…" Jimmy offered saving Scott asking.

"I don't mind," Scott grinned. "It's still the same Tumble Town, and it's not like I can die anyway," he shrugged as a dead bird flopped right next to him.

They were silent for a second, staring as the ghost of the bird left the body and dodged the ghostly cats that wasted no time pouncing at it. And laughed as it flew to a tree. They probably should have been worried about it but at the moment watching Norman and Flick chase it was funny. And fae had a rather unique sense of humour anyway and found dead birds very amusing even when they didn't leave ghosts behind.

[lennjamin-o7]

🌯🗡️ back just to quickly say with the “I think you might need to be wary of the "accidentally" in that sentence.”

Phil: (maybe) deliberately delays the trip so that when techno comes to the manor, his parents might be mad at him and present an opportunity for him to drive a wedge between them so he can get more trust / use it as a “well they were dicks so really I’m saving you” excuse before adopting tech

Phil: “This will work out perfectly and techno probably won’t even realise what I’ve done until too late!”

Techno: gets scratched on the cheek pretty badly, gets his hair shaved off and then gets locked in his room ignored and alone just to top it all off.

Phil: 👁️👁️

Phil: “I may have miscalculated just a tiny bit. Slightly bigger wedge than I was expecting but I’m used to improvising at this point”

The real magic behind this royal family is the way they’re constantly able to fuck up literally ANY plan Phil has with them. Purely just a “oh you think you’re bad?? Watch this!” And then they just accidentally neglect their son.

The royal family: “We have 2 perfect children. It’s not really our fault when we compare the normal one to them and punish him harshly because if it!”

Phil: “You’ve fucked up a perfectly good sonboy is what you did! Look at him. Now he has self worth issues ON TOP of anxiety!”

That and just:

Phil, finally coming face to face to renegotiate the deal: “You’re not leaving until I get my son.”

The royals: “Don’t you mean daughter??”

Phil: “I know what I said”

Or:

The king and queen: “We want nothing more than to have our children happy and safe which is why we’re going to the queen of fae to negate this deal”

Techno: Would genuinely intimately be happier and safer if he was adopted by Phil and Kristin. He gets to experience everything they deprived him of ON TOP of becoming immortal and having 2 of the most powerful fae in existence willing to go to battle for him in a HEARTBEAT

The king and queen: “No not like that-“

As well as:

The king and queen: “Wow we’re such good parents!”

Phil: Provides a better parenting experience in a single evening than they did in their entire lives of having 3 children

Phil: Steals the one child they never truly appreciated and gives him the best life POSSIBLE to make up for all that he missed and went through

Phil: “And I’d do it again BITCH”

I genuinely just adore the thought of Phil having just CONSTANT beef with them, like it’s not even about the deal anymore he’s just mad at them over their parenting skills. Just doing ANYTHING he can to fuckin upstage them, bro has beef with them down to the BONE with how mad he is.

Phil: Deliberately has Kristin make winter colder just so the king and queen like have problems heating the castle and their kingdom struggles

The king and queen: “Damn it’s fuckin way too cold this year”

Phil: “And that’s what you deserve! I fuckin PRAY you freeze”

Techno: Shivers slightly

Phil: “Oh my baby, my poor sonboy. Do you want some enchanted blankets to keep you warm? What about some Totally Not Magical stew to make you extra toasty?? Maybe even a heating enchantment on that earring???”

Bro will forever be their BIGGEST hater. He wakes up every day and tries spread as many bad vibes onto them as possible. He literally worked out a way to magically make sure both sides of their pillows would be warm. That’s the level of hating he’s been on.

Or that meme with I receive vs you receive:

Phil: “Here’s the deal, I receive a perfect sonboy who I can dote on and adore with my wonderful wife for the rest of forever”

Phil: “You receive me not obliterating your entire bloodline and taking the kid anyway”

The king and queen: “I can’t help but feel this real might be a little bit uneven”

Techno: “Do I get a say in this like at all??”

Phil: “No ❤️”

That 1 sentence just spurred on so much brainrot for me I couldn’t help but share! My brain created like 50 different pathways just to brainrot and come up with more scenarios. I’m like going back and checking for spelling mistakes and I’m literally only just realising now how much I’ve written lmao

As always, have a nice day and I’m sorry if I’ve overwhelmed!

Phil. Maybe not the King of the Fae, but certainly the King of Improv. He is an opportunist. They opportuniest of opportunists. He is 'Yes, and?'ing this adoption.

Techno is just a little guy. A little guy with a big heart. He needs some attention. Some love. That shouldn't be too much to ask. And yet-

And Yet-

Enchanted blankets, you say?

But Yeah, Philza is not happy about the state of the sonboy. He should have been better taken care of. Don't worry. :) He's got this covered :)

Bro, sorry it took me so long to respond. But I adore every SYLLABLE of all of your brainrots. Literally. Never apologize. I am so glad you sent them. <3 <3 <3 <3

[yulin-pop]

⤷ ✧ Training

- order 24 | One-shot | Diasomnia

P.1 — Finding family

Platonic, female reader

Note: After this I kind of ran out of ideas for scenarios with this Jackalope fae + diasomnia. This was fun to write at least!

You carried yourself with ease, with your footsteps were light but your belt making a harsh clanking. Passed by a lot of students with different color vests, they all seemed to back away and make room for you.

“Who’s that chick, and why is she carrying a sword?”

“She’s kinda pretty.”

You turned your head at that comment and tilted your head.

“Oh, what was that?” You asked while pointing at yourself.

“You idiot!”

“Nothing!”

Then the two boys ran off. You shrugged and continued your way. You stood in front of the mirror with Diasomnia written above with a symbol.

You hopped through carefully and you found yourself on the hard floor. You made your way towards the building at a fast pace.

The door opened and you took your chance to fly through it. You almost tripped due to the friction but you regained balance and looked around.

“Who is that?!” Someone asked but a familiar hair of silver locks became visible in the crowd.

“[Name]?” He softly asked.

“Brother!” You called with enthusiasm. You swiftly ran over to him with only a few steps and captured him in a hug.

He took a step back to keep you two balanced and he put one hand around you and smiled.

The smile soon dropped as if he remembered he shouldn’t and he gently pushed you away.

“Why are you here? How are you here?” He sternly asked.

“I came to see you. Not just you actually.” You quickly added. “And I got in here completely legally.”

“Well, that’s what I hoped…” He said. “The master is in his room, I’d assume the rest of them are there too.”

“Then let’s go there.” You said while nudging him towards the stairs nearby. The people there were watching your every move carefully. You felt their eyes peering at you but decided to ignore it.

You moved up the stairs alongside Silver. He has always been quiet but a lot less with you. You looked over at him expectantly but he merely glanced back with a confused stare.

“Silver, aren’t you gonna say something to me?”

“Is there anything that needs to be said?”

“You could’ve asked me how I’ve been doing lately.”

“I already know. You tell me over text. Speaking of which, why didn’t you tell me you were visiting?” Questioned Silver with suspicion.

“Cause you would’ve told me not to come and surprises are always better.” You stated.

Silver stopped you and faced a door to the right. Without hesitation, you knocked on the door which startled the ones inside.

You felt an anxious feeling in your stomach as you heard footsteps getting closer. The door slowly opened and Sebek revealed himself.

“What busines— [NAME]?!”

“Good day, Sebek.” You said while passing by him with a closed eye smile. “Please pardon the intrusion.”

Silver repeated the same and you opened your eyes. You kneeled down and bowed.

“Good afternoon, Master.” You said. Malleus nodded while sitting down with his legs crossed.

“What brings you here, [name]?” He asked with a monotone voice.

“I c—!”

“You’ve grown so much!” A deep voice squealed as you felt hands touch your horns and ears.

“A-AAAaH!!” You slapped away the hands that so carelessly grabbed at your horns. “Father— How many times I have told you to not touch any of my jackalope features.”

“I’m sorry but they’re so cute, sometimes I can’t help it.” He said while standing up straight. “Welcome back, [Name], or should I say Sergeant?”

You smirked at the title yet continued to bow. “I see you’re climbing up the ranks. Truly impressive for a girl your age.”

“Thank you for your praise.” You blushed at the compliment. “I’ve come to visit on a rare opportunity. Being a Sergeant, its a lot of responsibility.”

You stood up and smiled. Lilia took that opportunity to brush his fingers through your hair.

“Awwww you’ve grown so tall… You’re even taller than me!~ You’re so pretty! I bet all the boys like you.”

“Spoken like a true dad.” Silver commented while Sebek watched with pity.

“Let me do your hair like back then!” Lilia suggested, but in the end it wasn’t really a suggestion, it was a demand.

“Must we do this in the Master’s room?” You asked while Lilia styled your hair.

Lilia shook his head, “Malleus, you don’t mind, do you?“

“No, I don’t mind.”

“See!”

Silver looked at you sympathetically as he remembered when Lilia played with his hair too. Even now, Lilia wants him to keep his hair a bit long so he can play around with it.

“How are things here? I have no time for a normal education. Well, maybe this is more education on magic.” You thought. You were in a military school yet still apart of the military for Briar Valley.

“It’s been fine.”

“It’s been interesting.”

“It’s been troublesome..”

“I’d say it’s pleasant.”

“Mixed opinions I see.”

Lilia used some magic to create a flower and put it in your hair. You stood up and shook your head and stretched.

“Ahh.. Anyways, I’m bored.” You said while peering over at Sebek with a mischievous smile.

“Hey, don’t mess up your hair!”

“Sebek…” Your eyes shined with an evil glint as you charged at him and jumped on him with ease.

“Urgghh… I told you to stop with this!!” He shouted. And yet, he supported you by putting his arms under your knees and around your waist. To steady yourself, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“So? You’re the one holding me right now. Silver would just dodge me or drop me if I did it to him so I jump on you.” You pointing accusingly at the knight.

Sebek set you down softly while you whined.

“Sebek, you use to carry me a lot. Especially when I injured my leg.” You reminisced while looking up.

“I remember most of the time, you faked it or hurt yourself on purpose so you could be carried by one of us.” Silver crossed his arms. You coughed and shook your head profusely at the comment.

“Anyway, I take your magic ability as increased?” That question was directed at Sebek and Silver, Malleus and Lilia knew that for a fact.

“Of course! I’m working hard in my studies.”

“I’ve taken extra classes to practice my magic, mostly in offense rather than defence.”

You nodded as you brought out your small ring that held your gem. It worked the same way as the magic pen Night Raven uses.

“I haven’t actually practiced in a hot minute, wait that’s a lie. I’ve been working on adding different elements into weapons.” You brought out your sword that was held around your waist. You wielded it and it began to glow red and heat radiated from it.

“Impressive, that technique is difficult with how you have to pour magic into the object instead of around it.” Malleus commented with a small praise.

“Th-thank you… I’m still trying to find my fighting style. Right now, I’m just mixing whatever I see.” You swing your sword through the air and you pointed it at Sebek.

“Sebek, may we hold a demonstration duel? Just to see how far we’ve improved.”

He accepted the challenge without hesitation. Somehow, the news spread throughout the dorm and it was no surprise that people gathered around.

“It’s that girl from earlier.”

“Do you really think she’ll be able to take on Sebek… He’s pretty strong.”

You paid no mind to the whispering as you looked over at Lilia. “Don’t worry about damages you two, I set up a barrier already.”

You nodded and withdrew your sword slowly and took a stance. Sebek did the same, he wielded a regular sword but you noted his pen that was tucked in his pocket.

“Three, two, one, begin!” Silver declared. You didn’t make a move as you knew Sebek was going for the first hit.

As you predicted, Sebek made the first move but it was unique. You felt yourself sink into the floor a smidge. You lifted your foot and the ground was mushy and it was slippery.

“Dirty tactic..!” You commented as you readied yourself to defend as he flew towards you with his sword.

You used your heel to slide across the floor, still staying balanced as you felt his blade cut in half without fail.

Your sword cooled from the input of fire, Sebek didn’t drop the sword despite the blade being cut in half. It was one quick movement and the sword was right in front of you.

You dodged by moving your upper body to the side and you grabbed his arm at the opportunity. You flipped him over with a big struggle from him.

“She just flipped him?!”

“Embarrassing on his end..”

You nearly fell back yourself with how much he was struggling. You pointed your sword down at his neck and grinned.

“Seems like [Name] wins.” Silver declared. You put your sword back in its sheath and looked down at your shoes, which were covered in mud.

“R-rematch!”

“It’s apparent who’s more skilled.” Malleus spoke up, “She defeated you, she hardly had to use her magic or sword to defeat you.”

Sebek bit back his words and nodded. You could tell he felt rather insulted and it was an unfair advantage from the beginning.

“It was expected, no offense, I train everyday and I’m a high ranking officer.” You realized your words were just adding salt in the wound and you didn’t say anything more. “It mostly just came down to technique. You were straight forward and I took advantage of it. You jabbed forward with the sword and I was able to grab your arm because you put your full force into it.”

“So it’s about reaction time?” Sebek asked. It seems that he wishes to improve from his mistake.

You could see how he’s changed. Usually, when you would beat him in swordplay, he would berate you and call it foul play.

“Yes, ah wow. Sebek you’ve changed so much!! It’s hard to think that I’ve known you for nearly a decade!”

“Why are you talking as if you’re older?” Sebek questioned saltily.

Requests: Open!!

[rainy-day-coffee]

Good day/night sir/madam! May I request some headcanons for what it'd be like to sleep with the dorm leaders? (And when I say 'sleep' I mean the crawl-into-bed-at-the-end-of-a-long-day sleep, not the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) one) I wanna know who're the cuddlers, the blanket-hogs, the restless sleepers, that sorta thing. (Though if you don't feel comfortable writing this as some of them are underage feel free to write it instead taking place when they're adults and married or to just ignore this ask) Thanks!

Perfectly a-ok with this request! This was such a cute thing to write out actually! I got to project sleeping habits onto characters and it was so much fun! These are pretty short but I hope I managed to get everything!

Sleeping habits of the dorm leaders!

He loves it when you hold his head against your chest. Your heartbeat lulls him to sleep, and in his opinion it’s one of the best feelings in the world.

Usually a lot of affection can overwhelm him so some nights there won’t be much cuddling. Instead he resorts to holding your hand while you face each other, hooking one leg around yours, or touching backs while you two face opposite ways.

Much to his embarrassment, he is an unintentional blanket-hog. He curls up into a ball when he sleeps sometimes and wraps himself up in the blanket. He always apologizes for it in the morning even though he doesn’t have to.

He’s not really a restless sleeper, but he does move around a bit during the night. He can fall asleep on one end of the bed and by morning he could be on your side of it, pressing up against you.

He used to be a blanket-hog because he would get cold easily, but now he just clings onto you for warmth.

Leona refuses to sleep at night if you’re not in his arms. He says it isn’t the same. You could be working on a late night project and he’ll come dragging you to bed just to sleep comfortably. You have no time to complain since he falls asleep in record time.

Usually, the more you try and wiggle out of his grip, the tighter his embrace becomes. Succumb to your fate and admire the determination this man carries.

He’s a very quiet sleeper! The most you can hear out of him are the slow inhales and exhales he lets out.

He almost doesn’t move in his sleep either. He could fall asleep cuddling you in one position and he’ll wake up cuddling you in that very same position.

He’s a very clingy sleeper! At night he unleashes his cuddle needs to the maximum. Any cuddle position works for him! He simply wants to be close to you and reassure himself that you aren’t going to disappear. At this point in your relationship, he finds it near impossible to sleep without you.

He prefers being wrapped up in your arms but he loves holding you too! His favorite thing to do is to plop himself face-first into your chest and wrap his arms and legs around you. It makes him feel safe.

Tends to shift around a little while sleeping! Normally it’s just him tightening the embrace he has you in and rubbing his face on you.

He drools a little. No matter how hard he tries it just keeps happening, and he hates it with a passion.

Azul talks in his sleep sometimes. Usually it’s pure nonsense and nothing above a whisper. Please never bring it up, he will never live it down and may start sleeping under his bed out of sheer embarrassment.

A very clingy young man! He latches onto you and will not let go, especially when it’s cold. Even if you two fall asleep with some space in-between you, he usually rolls on over and wraps his arms around you anyways.

On the rare occurrence he isn’t attached to you, he spreads his limbs everywhere. He doesn’t do it on purpose, it happens unknowingly while he’s sleeping. It isn’t a problem since his bed is very big; there’s more than enough space for both of you!

He drools a little in his sleep sometimes. He snores quite a bit too!

He’s up for all kinds of cuddling positions! However, his absolute favorite is when you two are facing each other and hugging. He loves feeling his legs wrap around yours.

No matter what position you two sleep in, he nuzzles his face into whatever body part of yours he can reach.

Vil doesn’t need that much affection when he sleeps, but he would never deny your cuddle desires.

He prefers to lie on his back while you cuddle up to him. Spooning is another favorite! He doesn’t have a preference between being the little or big spoon. It just depends on how both of you are feeling at the moment.

Depending on the position he’s sleeping in, he drools a little. He’s not exactly embarrassed about it, it’s a very normal thing after all. You would never judge this side of him so he doesn’t worry about it either.

He’s a very relaxed sleeper. He almost doesn’t move around. He does snore on occasion, it’s not very loud though. If anything, it sounds more like loud breathing.

Sleeping is one of the things that Vil can do without having to stress about it. He loves being able to simply relax with you and enjoy drifting off to dreamland.

His sleeping routine is very out of control. As we all know, he tends to game and watch anime into the very early hours of the morning. Sometimes on these binges, he actually falls asleep next to you!

When your relationship is at a place where Idia feels more comfortable, he can finally relax while sleeping and not wake up in a panic.

He loves falling asleep to you threading your fingers through his hair and simply feeling you hug him close. When spooning, he prefers it if you’re the big spoon so he can enjoy being wrapped up in the warmth you provide.

Snores and talks in his sleep! Normally you can never understand what he’s saying, but you can assume it’s about something exciting with the way he smiles. You’ve heard him laughing too!

Considering fae have different sleeping patterns than humans, the sleeping routine you two have tends to change.

On nights when he doesn’t need to sleep, he likes to watch you and occasionally stroke your face or rub your head as he lies beside you. He always cuddles you if you want him to though! At times he finds himself wondering how he ever got so lucky. Given how much humans need to sleep, his mind wanders to many places. He likes to daydream about what may happen the next day.

When he does sleep, he loves holding you in his arms while he lies on his back and you rest your head on his chest. Considering his horns, it’s one of the only positions he can actually sleep in.

Unless his dreams evoke strong feelings, you won’t hear so much as a peep out of him.

His grip around you is strong though! Once he’s out, it’s very hard to get up before he wakes up again. He’s not doing it intentionally, of course. Even while he sleeps he just wants to be close to you.

[anyoneseenadam]

Hi I was wondering if you could do a Azriel x reader where they are cuddling and talking after a long day of work?

pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: mental health/anxiety being mean, insecurity, asides from that it’s pure fluff and nice and lovey dovey

a/n: I love writing fluff omg, I went in a slightly different route that I intended with this one but I hope you like it :))))

------------------------------------------------------------------

You pushed the heavy wooden door of your home open, dragging your legs in as you fought to keep your eyes open. You pushed the door closed with your back, leaning your head against it, and closing your eyes for a second, before sliding down, still leaning against the door, and wrestling to remove you shoes with a huff.

You heard a cough ahead of you and looked up to see Azriel fondly watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He was still in his leathers, so you presumed he had just beat you home, his tired eyes sparkling with humour as he watched you struggle with your boots. You didn’t say anything as you stood and padded over to him on heavy feet, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing your eyes shut.

You didn’t want to think of the long week you had dealt with, you just wanted to bury yourself under a mountain of pillows and blankets and maybe wrap your limbs around Azriel like a koala bear. He wrapped his arms around you, scarred hands rubbing up and down your back as the two of you stood together in silence, simply breathing in the other and allowing your souls to be reacquainted.

When you first met Azriel he had wandered into your shop on a whim, wanting to get Feyre some flowers to congratulate her on the pregnancy and he remembered Elain had mentioned this shop being one of her favourites. He had expected to be in and out, not in the mood for a long conversation, or any conversation for that matter. But as soon as he saw your pretty face, your flowy, dress that stopped just above your dirt covered knees, all his plans were thrown out the window.

“Can I help you?” you had asked, sweet-lipped, your voice sounding the way cherries tasted, sweet but with a deeper richness. A smooth tone that he could listen to for hours.

He ended up buying as many flowers as he could without seeming insane, not wanting you to ever stop speaking, wanting you to explain the meaning behind every flower in your store if it meant he got to stay with you.

You had noticed him as well of course. Who wouldn’t, he was beautiful and carried himself with so much grace and poise that you were sure he was a fallen angel. You had lengthened your descriptions of the flowers, face heating when you realised you were rambling and fighting a grin when he asked you to continue.

You had invited him to sit with you as you were brewing tea and he had accepted, sipping tentatively at the tea you told him you grew yourself, the greenhouse in your garden perfect for the needed flowers. The two of you had spoken for hours before he left, ignoring the confused looks from his friends when he came home with six separate bouquets of flowers. Instead deciding to picture your pretty face as he lay in bed that night, finally getting rest for the first time in weeks.

Now, you were wrapped up in his arms, still not speaking. He didn’t worry too much, he knew that sometimes you weren’t ready to speak, that some days you just needed some quiet to process your day and come back to yourself. When you had first explained the way you would drift from your own mind, feeling as if you were floating above your own body Azriel had almost cried, the realisation that maybe he wasn’t the only one in the world, that maybe there was someone for him after all.

He lifted you into his arms and carried you to the kitchen, carefully avoiding the plants littered around the house, before shifting you onto one hip like a baby, knowing you wouldn’t be letting go any time soon. He set about brewing your favourite tea, smiling as he picked up the pot that you had shared the fifth time he came to visit you.

The store had been closed but you had invited him, so he pushed in, cringing at himself when he realised how early he was but all his thoughts came to a halt when he heard that sweet voice of yours coming from your apartment above your shop.

“My lovers got humour, she's the giggle at a funeral, knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner. If the Heavens ever did speak, she's the last true mouthpiece, every Sunday's getting more bleak a fresh poison each week- AH!” you screamed when you saw him standing in the doorway, pressing a hand to your heart as it slowed back to its regular beat. “Fuck you, oh my.”

He genuinely laughed then, not expecting to hear you swear. The girl who had green stained fingers and who fed stray cats, the girl who always decorated for every holiday and who apologised when she bumped into inanimate objects. Your face was hot to the touch and you wouldn’t look him in the eyes, so he had stopped laughing, moving to up your face, forcing you to look in his eyes.

“You have the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard.” He said sincerely but you scoffed,

“No I really don’t,” you laughed but he saw the insecurities then, “I know it’s whiny.” He frowned; your voice having been one of your most attractive traits in his eyes. He had started to see beneath your cracks then, but now with you wrapped around him he remembered how deep they went.

“Do you want to talk about it baby?” he asked carefully, not wanting to startle you, knowing how deep you could get in your head, tiny noises startling you when you were zoned out.

“Bad brain.” Was all you muttered, and he frowned but just kissed your forehead and continued making your tea. When he was done he carried both you and the tea through to your bedroom, setting the tea down before twisting you again and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you on the side of the bath and wet a cloth, cleaning the makeup from your face, and moisturising your skin before picking you back up and taking you back to your room. You slowly changed into one of his shirts and some loose boxers before crawling under the duvet and reaching your hands out to Azriel who had changed into his pyjama bottoms.

He crawled in next to you, pulling you into his chest, his wings wrapping around the two of you and then his shadows settling over both of you, protecting you from the outside world.

“How was your week?” he asked, one hand coming up to play with your hair knowing how much it relaxed you and feeling his heart warm when he felt you smile against his neck.

“Bit shit,”

“How so?”

“Just rude customers, and this one guy wanted like two dozen flowers which I made up but then he couldn’t pay and trashed the bouquets I had made him. Plus all the noise made my anxiety play up,” you muttered, and he frowned, not liking how put out you sounded.

“Want me to kill him?” he asked, only half-joking.

“I think that’s a bit extreme,” you laughed into his shoulder.

“Lightly maim then?”

“Maybe just a scare, make him think his house is haunted or something,”

“That I can do.” He smiled, kissing you, happy to have you partially back to him.

“What about you, how was your week, I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”

“I know, sorry. I’ve been doing some stuff for Rhys.”

“I’m presuming I’m not allowed to hear about it,” you said, well aware of how secretive his job was.

“It’s not a mission per say, I’m just babysitting.”

“Is it fun at least?” you asked, grinning at him cheekily and he scrunched up his face, thinking back over his week of baby sitting two horny Fae’s while he dreamt of being in your little apartment.

“Not the word I would use, they’re too horny for their own good.”

“The babies?!”

“No! NO! They’re not actually children!” he backtracked as you collapsed into a fit of giggles, Azriel joining you soon after. “You know I think they suspect something,” he said once you finally calmed down, “I think they’ve worked out I’m sneaking off.”

“Hmm, guess we have to kill them then.” You mused and Azriel grinned,

“Only reasonable course of action.”

“I mean we’d be fools not to,”

“Clearly.” He laughed, before tightening his grip, “seriously though, do you want to meet them?”

“I mean, yeah. I think it’d be nice,” he noticed your mood had shifted again and nudged you, imploring you to continue, “It’s just you’re all so accomplished and amazing, powerful people and I’m just… me.”

He tried to ignore the pain that stabbed into his heart at your self-deprecating words, having thought them about himself enough times to know how they felt. “Don’t say that, you’re an incredible person. And even if you weren’t the kindest, sweetest person I had ever met, you’re still the girl I love and honestly I think Cassian is one ex-girlfriend away from selling me to the highest bidder.”

You laughed and nuzzled in farther, “Kindest person you’ve ever met?”

“Well asides from the occasional death threats,”

“ah yes, ignoring that. Of course.” He laughed and kissed your forehead, eyes closing as he heard your voice get softer and your breath slower.

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair as you felt your eyelids droop, the weight of the week lifted off of your shoulders as you buried yourself in Azriel’s arms, peaceful in his embrace.

“I love you.���

[brbuttons]

Do you think that Charlie and the chocolate factory is the most underrated musical? I think it’s pretty good and pays nods to the original book.

Of the ones we've seen? Absolutely.

I think a lot of people dismiss the source material as they grow up- 'it's a horror story for children'- forgetting that it's as much wary warning to adults as it is kids. And I think this lead to a lot of people seeing a Musical version of this as nothing more than 'a kid's play'.

But oh god, anyone who's seen the musical... [insert nervous laughter] knows that's not the case.

--

For context, since versions differ: We saw the original West-End run in its final year, with Jonathan Slinger as Wonka. Which... whereas Hodge went more book-Wonka, and Jennings had this almost uncaring selfishness, Slinger's Wonka was unhinged. He was the perfect mix of 'I am genuinely terrified for my own safety, but if I don't follow this man, I will be all-consumingly curious for the rest of my life'.

He had the same vibe as creatures of myth that would lure people to their demise. You could tell me Slinger's Wonka was a fae, and I could easily believe it. You would have to have the willpower of the gods to not follow him into the dark.

I say all this, because I think a lot of adaptations ignore the cruelty of Willy Wonka. There's a cognitive bias in the story, as it's told from a star-struck child's view of a man who can do no wrong; and let's be honest, Charlie shrugs off trauma after trauma in that factory because of it. But the musical's Wonka makes choices and comments that just feel more true to the character?

The musical felt more adult, like it understood the assignment in a way no other adaptation did. It understood how- mind the language- utterly fucked up the whole tour is, it understood that Wonka is Ambiguously Evil, it understood that it is essentially a horror story mixed with a Wonderlandian Tale. And it didn't shy away from that.

And as someone who, as a child, was utterly confused on how no-one else saw these things of the story... it came out as, easily, our favourite version of the story altogether.

Perhaps it's because we've since grown up, perhaps it's due to our *ahem* personal biases within the system (see: our introject of Wonka was our primary persecutor during childhood), but the take not sugarcoating the whole story as 'look at the wonderful Willy Wonka!' and seeing it for what it is, was so utterly refreshing.

I wish more people had seen it. I wish Jonathan Slinger's run was recorded.

--

It wasn't perfect though. The first act is slow, but we do like that it took more time to explore Charlie as a character (we also still prefer that Wonka turns up at the end of act 1; something we know BW!CatCF changed).

The kids also felt incredibly flat. I think Charlie was a strong character, but all of the children in that version felt quite bland and too generalised? There was no subtlety to them, and they were incredibly in-your-face- which I guess is closer to the book, but if you grew up with the 71! & 05! versions, it's just a bit of non-taste.

Also 'Vidiots' is a boomer song about 'Technology Bad', and I know Mike Teavee is essentially that whole concept (even though that boy is obviously just undiagnosed ADHD, and hoo boy we have thoughts about that) but that song is very out of touch and could do with being removed or potentially taken from a more sympathetic angle. The only good thing that came out of it was Doris Teavee Jam Session lessss goooo baybee. hi we love west-end mrs. teavee if you could not tell, she's adorable and relatable when you're hitting 30 and stressed all the time.

That's all we can think of off the top of our head, but tl;dr: absolutely.

- Vi & Atticus

[tomtenadia]

King for a day

I apologise for the horrible title...

Rowaelin month - day 19 

It was a nice autumn day and the castle still lay quiet. It was still early and most of its occupants were still in bed.

In the royal chambers Rowan’s eyes popped open and in that instant he sensed the distress in the person sleeping at his side. His fae senses alerted him through the bond that there was something wrong with his mate. She lay curled in a foetal position, her hands clutching her stomach.

“Fireheart?” His voice thick with fear. Was it a nightmare? Was she ill?

It had been three years since the war had been over but the healing process for all of them was taking much longer than expected and he knew that Aelin some night still woke in the grips of panic and the horrible feeling of still being in that damned coffin. And in those nights all he could do was to hold his mate in his arms and let her know she was safe, and free and that he was at her side. It broke his old immortal heart.

“Aelin?” He called again, pulling her to his chest and as of on instinct she buried her face against his chest “are you okay?”

She whimpered and Rowan almost screamed. He could not bear to have her in pain. His lips peppered her forehead with kisses “what is it?”

“Cycle.” Was all she said and Rowan knew. Since her transformation into full fae her body had been changing as well and adopted all the traits of the race. He had learned that her cycles were not regular and when they happened, Aelin would be in extreme pain for days. She had also inherited the difficulty for fae to procreate. They had decided to try and have a family for over a year now but it has been proving very hard and he could not stand the hurt in Aelin’s face when it failed once again.

It would happen, he kept telling her, the last piece to that happiness they had been trying to find since after the horrors of the war. He had dreamed it, their family, they just needed patience.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you want me to call the healer?”

She shook her head and snuggled closer and Rowan tightened his hold “I guess I can play king consort for a day and deal with politics.” Aelin looked up at him.

“You hate that stuff.”

A gentle kiss “I do, that’s why you are queen and I am just the pretty male at your side,” he joked “but I guess that for a day I can deal with Darrow and the council men.”

“I am the queen,” she said with a tired voice, forcing herself to a sit position “I can’t stay in bed all day. I have a duty.”

“Aelin,” his strong hand brushed a strand of hair from her face “even the queen needs a day off when she is not well.”

Once they had started working on their kingdom they had reached the agreement that she was the one dealing with the political side. Rowan had preferred to throw himself into physical labour admitting that helping rebuild was more into his chords than dealing with courtly bullshit. Aelin had joked that he just hated to dress up for court.

She tried once more to protest but Rowan was in full fuss mode and pushed her back down in bed. He grabbed the thick blankets and covered her “now you stay here. I will go to the healer and ask for your tonic.”

Aelin watched him stand and leave their chamber and as soon as he left she ducked under the blankets ignoring the pain spreading through her lower body.

Rowan came back ten minutes later and found her hiding under the blankets. He pulled them back and helped Aelin to sit up “Drink. The healer assured me this will help.”

She took the goblet and drank under his watchful eye and once she was done Rowan grabbed the empty goblet and pushed her back down “now you rest and sleep. Would you like a book?”

Aelin shook her head. She was not feeling well enough to concentrate on a book.

“Or we could just cancel the council for a day and you could stay in bed with your wife all day, keeping me company and holding me in those strong arms of yours.”

Rowan flicked her nose “we can’t do that.”

“Not even if it’s your queen who orders it?” She looked at him hopeful that she had hit the right spot that convinced him to dismiss court duty and stay with her. She appealed at his male duty to look after his mate and a glimmer of hope flickered into her when for a brief instant he seemed to consider it.

“For as much as it pains me to leave you alone when you are distressed, alas, I am the king consort, which means that is my duty to deal with politics when you can’t.”

Aelin huffed disappointed “at least bring me chocolate when you come back from your duties.”

“As my queen commands.” He leaned over to kiss her deeply and pushed her once more under the blanket and then pulled away to get changed for his boring and long day with the council.

Ten minutes later he was pushing open the heavy doors of the council room all dressed up in his best tunic, breeches and polished boots. 

“Good morning, gentlemen.” He greeted as he sat at the head of the table where Aelin would usually sit.

“Your majesty.” Said Darrow, bowing his head in salute. Rowan hated to be addressed so formally, hated all the frills of court. He was a warrior, he was used to a much simpler way of life. But being married to the queen had that unpleasant downside. But for her he’d do anything. Even deal with people who still looked at him as a brute with no right to claim the title of king consort.

“My queen has asked me to convey her deepest apologies. She is currently indisposed and had asked me to attend to her duties for the day. I hope the lords here present will not be offended to deal with such a brute like me.” A smirk spread on his face. Let them know that he knew exactly what they thought about him.

“We are sorry to hear about her majesty’s being unwell. We wish her a speedy recovery.” Replied Darrow ignoring the jab about having to deal with him. 

“So,” he started grabbing some documents. He might not actively deal with politics, but he knew exactly what Aelin was doing. She would discuss her plans with him and update him after every council session.

“The first item on the agenda is the requests from the merchants guild…”

It was far too many hours later when he was free once again. Once out of the room he unclasped the first three buttons of his tunic and felt like he could breath once again. Quickly he ran back to their chambers. The bond had been quiet and he felt little distress from Aelin meaning that the tonic had effect. Leaving her alone had gone against every single one of his male instincts but he had responsibilities and their kingdom mattered a lot to both. So he put his male fussiness aside and just went on with the day job.

Once back in the royal chamber he found Aelin deeply asleep and the worry in his chest loosened a bit. He quickly got changed in a more comfortable attire and then slipped in bed with her, pulling her body to his chest.

As soon as she was in his arms Aelin awoke and gave him a sleepy smile.

“My dutiful king is back,” she said in a tired voice.

“Yes, and Darrow is unpleasant as always.”

Aelin gave him a low chuckle.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as his hand gently massaged her lower back.

“Now that you are back, much better.” Her face disappeared in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of pine and snow that was so him.

“Did you sleep the whole time?”

Aelin nodded.

“Good.”

“Did you bring me chocolate?”

Rowan chuckled and stood to go to his desk and grabbed something. A moment later he joined her back in bed with a box of her favourite chocolates.

“Such a dutiful king.”

Rowan sat with his back against the head of the bed and pulled Aelin against him in a semi sit position as she ate some of the chocolate delicacies in the box.

“Nothing like eating chocolate in your mate’s arms on a sick day.”

Rowan chuckled and tucked her head under his chin “just don’t eat too many or you’ll find yourself with a different kind of stomachache.” He took the box from her hands and pulled the blanket up to cover them both.

“I am here now,” he whispered against her hair while his arms surrounded her “sleep a bit more.”

A few minutes later Aelin was asleep once more and he relaxed.

She was his life. His everything.

And for her he’d even sit in endless meetings.

[silkling]

Hey, I just read the fae Prowl oneshot you did and i wasn't wanting to know how Optimus and the rest of the team would react if they accidently found out he was fae? Would they turn him in? Or would they just think that that explains his love for nature? Would Prowl start acting different, as in would he relax and start trolling the team? (Bumblebee specifically)

Okay, so for the new folks on my blog, the fic this ask is referencing is this one-shot HERE.

But onto the ask itself. The fic takes place in a pre-canon universe, and one where, since Yoketron never died, and the protoforms were never never stolen, Prowl never left the Cybertron. Which means he never ended up in the series of circumstances that lead him to the space bridge team.

However, for the purposes of your ask, we can make up an alternate scenario where, rather than surviving, Yoketron was severely injured or even killed, and Jazz was left behind when Prowl “teleported”. Which means he would have been forced to flee or risk being found by the Elite Guard, and being discovered as a Fae as subsequently blamed. In this scenario, he’d join Team Prime, and he’d be outed as a Fae…I’d say, when Lockdown first shows up. We can say he recognizes Lockdown’s “aura” as the one that lingered at the dojo before he was forced to flee.

In this scenario, I’d imagine that most of the team would respond well. Optimus would know about Fae, but only what the Academy taught him (which was basically all propaganda), but he’d still have enough experience with the horrors of Autobot High Command (courtesy of the Arachne-7 debacle) to at least suspect that what he was taught wasn’t all accurate. Also, he’d realize that if it was accurate, none of them would be alive since the “trickster, cruel, all-powerful and spark-hungry Fae” would have been able to kill them several times over by now. So after the initial surprise, he’d be very curious and very eager to learn as much about Prowl, and the Fae in general, as he could.

Bulkhead would be interesting. He’d know the Academy teachings, but because he grew up on a farm he’d also know the traditional small rural town/farm legends about Fae, and those legends are generally much kinder. They say that Fae are playful and mischievous, and not to be crossed, but if treated with respect they will see fit to reward you in turn. So he’d basically realize that Prowl is pretty much harmless to them all since it’s obvious he likes them, otherwise he wouldn’t have stayed around or left them unharmed.

Ratchet would…be extremely guilty. He knows exactly how bad Autobot High Command is. And because he was fairly well respected in the war, and had a decent ranking, he even knows a good deal of what High Command does to Fae. Not the science-y details, but he knows of the imprisonment and experiments and forced servitude the Fae suffer at the hands of Cybertron’s elite. He was even responsible for helping capture and entrap a couple Fae, during the war, before he realized they weren’t the monsters the propaganda made them out to be. So he’d be guilty, and super upfront with Prowl, but it wouldn’t color their interactions much. He’d be the one Prowl goes to, in part bcause he reminds him of Yoketron and in part because Ratchet is the one who understands his situation the best.

Bulmblee would be…complicated. He only knows the Academy lessons and the popular rumors, so he firmly believes that Fae are ruthless monsters, and just as bad, or worse, than Decepticons. It takes a while before the others can convince him not to turn Prowl in to the Elite Guard. In his defense, it isn’t out of cruelty, but ignorance and fear. Even so, it strains things until he settles down. Then he’d start calming down, and once he realizes that the rumors and lessons were wrong (cause the others get it into his head eventually), Prowl stops hiding away.

That’s also when the pranks start. Since he doesn’t have to hide anymore, Prowl starts pranking the others. It’s never harmful ones. Always playful, and always more confusing than anything. His first victim is Bumblebee, and he plays a prank involving moving Bumbleebee to the top of Sumdac Tower while he’s sleeping. Needless to say, Bee declares a prank war. The base never knows peace again.

[baepsaesbae]

Eclipse

Pairing— Day Fairy!Hoseok x Night fairy!reader    

Genre— SMUT, fae au, angst, idiots to lovers

Warnings— Oral (F receiving), nipple play, explicit unprotected sex, hair pulling, both praise and slight derogatory dirty talk bc I can’t make up my mind, slight swearing

Word Count— 3.3k  

Summary— The summer solstice is here and it’s time to celebrate. Your favorite part of the solstice is that you get to see Hoseok, or rather, the love of your life. It’s too bad you haven’t told him how you really felt, even though it has been centuries. Maybe this year will be different. 

A/N— This fic is part of The Fabled Collab hosted by @joontopia, @kimtaehyunq, and @whipped-for-kpop-fics. Hoseok is my sunshine, so I just had to write about him! Thank you to @s0seo and @taegularities for giving me motivation to write. Lastly, huge shoutout to Eden from @thebiasrekkers​ for making this awesome banner for me! As always, let me know how you guys like the fic! My askbox is always open <3

Fae clans have many holidays and rituals, but solstices are by far the most celebrated. Solstices mark the pivotal event that shifts the seasonal responsibilities between the sun and moon clans. The summer and winter solstice are always the biggest events of the year, with about a week of festivities leading up to the final event. 

Sweat ran down your spine as the sun beat down on you. You’ve been holding up a stupid banner for what felt like an eternity.

“Okay wait, you’re gonna hate me but I think we should put it back to where we originally had it,” Sunghoon said with furrowed brows.

“That’s it. We’ve been doing this all morning. Figure this out yourself,” you angrily threw down the banner and stormed off before Sunghoon had the chance to yell at you.

You ignored the friendly calls from other fae that were setting up decor nearby. It was way past your bedtime. Cranky and drenched in sweat, you were definitely not a happy night fairy. Heading straight to the pond, you derobed and found comfort in the cool waters that  washed away your stress instantly. You gazed up at the blue sky while floating on your back. The day truly was beautiful, you couldn’t deny that. However, nighttime was better in your very much biased opinion. The dark sky littered with countless stars that glittered like diamonds was an unbeatable sight. 

“Hey there sunshine!” a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. You dipped back into the water and turned to the source of the sound.

“Hey there, perv. Care to join me?” you beckoned.

“I wish I could, but I need to go finalize some plans for the handoff ceremony--”

“It’s the same EVERY year. C’mon Hobi, you don’t need to go,” you whined.

“I’ll meet you back here at sunset, how does that sound?” he tried to appease you.

“Midnight. I’m already exhausted, I don’t wanna wake up early,” you blew raspberries into the pond.

“That’s fair. I’ll see you then okay?” Hoseok waved before flying off.

On top of parties filled with indulgences that would blow the mind of any feeble human, Hoseok was the added bonus that made you eager for each solstice. Admittedly, you two have had some sort of flirtationship going on for the past few centuries. Your friends always teased you about how madly head over heels you were for him. As much as you wanted to believe that he loved you in the same way, something always felt off.  

Hoseok always reciprocated your flirtatious advances, but it felt more like a game between friends rather than something substantial. You’ve even observed his interactions with other fairies, and it didn’t seem like he gave you any special treatment. He was simply a good friendly guy that everyone loved, but not the way that you loved him. 

You were dying to know how he truly felt about you. All these years of playful banter had been fun, but they had also been simultaneously eating away at you. There’s no way he doesn’t know that you love him. At the same time, what if he thinks you’re just a good friend? You needed to know for sure, and you intended to confront him about it at midnight.

“Good evening,” you greeted Hoseok shyly as you approached the pond’s bank. 

“Good day to you sunshine,” Hoseok called back as he kicked at the water.

“How’d the meeting go?” you asked.

“Boring as always. You’re right, it’s the same every year. But the elders still want to go over everything again to ensure that the ceremony is perfect,” Hoseok sighed.

“Thanks for coming to hangout with me even though you’re so busy,” you said, suddenly feeling guilty.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this all day! You’re the perfect person to unwind with after a long day,” Hoseok smiled. There it was. The radiant smile you fell for the first time you ever met him. 

“You sure I’m the perfect person for that? What do you do when you’re back in your own land surrounded by other day fae?” you prodded, hoping to steer the conversation onto the ‘what are we’ topic. 

“I have my friends there for sure, and I appreciate them too. But it’s different with you. Maybe because I can only hangout with you twice a year. You’re like my super special friend, yaknow?” Hoseok tried to explain. 

“Uh yeah, for sure. Like a special playdate kind of thing huh?” you tried to hide your hurt feelings.

“Exactly! You get it. It’s like you’re my favorite dessert that I can only have twice a year,” Hoseok nodded.

“Right…” you whispered softly to yourself. You spent the rest of the night listening to the unfruitful discussions Hoseok had during his meetings. All the excitement over the festival had drained from you. Now, you just wanted it to be over so you can go sulk in peace. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” Hoseok observed, “You haven’t interjected once about how stupid our traditions are or how you’re looking forward to having long nights again.”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m just tired. Sunghoon really worked me to the bone yesterday, that damn day fairy,” you faked a yawn.

“Hey, be nice! Wasn’t it you who volunteered to help us anyway?” Hoseok shook his head.

‘Yeah, because I thought I’d be able to work with you,’ you thought.

“It was a bizarre streak of altruism, that’s all,” you shrugged. 

“Nah, I know you’re a kind fairy deep down!” Hoseok playfully nudged your shoulder. Normally you would welcome this type of physical affection, but for right now it served as a painful reminder that you were merely seen as a buddy. 

You actively avoided Hoseok for the remainder of the week, counting down the hours to when it would finally all be over. You made up some lame excuse to not hangout with Hoseok every time he approached you. He must have caught on by the final day, either that or he was extremely busy. Afterall, he was the MC for the entire ordeal. 

Apparently, your abrasive reputation preceded you because no one wanted your help with anything. As soon as they saw you coming, they would randomly find themselves very preoccupied with something that made them too busy to talk to you. The only person who would put you to work was Sunghoon, who was one of Hoseok’s best friends. You wondered why he was always so nice to you even when you complained the entire time you helped him.

“That’s the last table! They all look great, thanks for helping with the set up,” Sunghoon gave you a thumbs up.

“You know it’s pointless setting up all these tables. Most of the fairies are just gonna be dancing or fucking all night long, no one is gonna be sitting down,” you said.

“Are you gonna be one of the fairies partying?” Sunghoon inquired.

“Definitely not,” you answered curtly.

“Then I’m happy at least one of these tables will be utilized,” Sunghoon nodded, “Try to enjoy yourself tonight okay?”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes.

The entire forest seemed to come alive that night. The trees swayed with the enchanting music while cheers of merriment erupted around the party scene. You sat alone at a mushroom table with your third (or was it fourth?) cup of berry wine. You glared at the fairies who had lost themselves to their pleasures, whether it be the wine or the toadstools, or perhaps even both. Fairies who had given into their more lustful urges could be seen on the outskirts of the dance floor, some in the innocent stages of kissing and others entangled full fledged fornication. Scoffing at the obscene orgy, you stumbled off to get another cup of wine. Even though you weren’t really participating, you had to admit that fairies knew how to throw a party. 

“Hey ___, I noticed you’ve been by yourself the whole evening. Want some company?” someone asked behind you as you filled up your mug to the brim. You turned to see two Sunghoons merge to become one hazy Sunghoon in the blink of an eye. 

“F-ffuck off Sunghoon,” you slurred.

“I wanted to thank you for all the hard work you did for this year’s summer solstice,” Sunghoon continued, unfazed by your harshness, “Wanna dance to celebrate?”

“Nope,” you answered as you pushed him aside.

“Yeah she seemed pretty pissed dude,” Sunghoon said while taking a large swig.

“At you or in general?” Hoseok inquired.

“Dunno man, she’s always been like that. However, she seemed more aggravated than usual, which is hard to imagine,” Sunghoon chuckled, “Did you do something to her?”

“No! I’ve been replaying everything we talked about at the pond but everything seemed fine! I even told her that she was my super special friend and---oh shit,” Hoseok’s face fell.

“Idiot,” Sunghoon tsked. 

Both fae clans had gathered by the main stage, intently listening to the same speeches that the clan leaders have spoken for centuries. You watched apathetically as the everlasting flame was being formally handed over. The crowd roared as the flame changed from a deep crimson red to an icy silver color with a blue hue, signifying that the solstice had come to pass. 

If the festival wasn’t wild before, it had only gotten more out of hand after the official ceremony. Seeing the other fairies go wild in every sense of the word made you nauseous. The noise level intensified as you watched your fairy brethren engage in rather promiscuous activities. Someone even beckoned for you to join in the fun, but you just walked away. The only person you wanted to have that kind of fun with was Hoseok. It infuriated you that your thoughts always drifted to him. You filled up your cup one last time and walked away from the ruckus, towards an empty grove. Hopefully you would be able to wallow in self pity in peace there. 

The stars twinkled above you, and dim moonlight speckled the ground around you as it shone through the trees. You could still hear the party, but it was much fainter now and served as nice background noise to keep you from drowning in your thoughts. With a deep exhale, you fought to hold back tears. You felt so foolish. Too many years have been wasted in vain for an unrequited love that you should have seen coming. It was so stupid of you to hold onto a sliver of hope that Hoseok would like you back. 

“The party is that way,” a familiar voice called out to you.

“Then why aren’t you there?” you didn’t try to mask the annoyance in your voice.

“I saw you walk away, I wanted to check up on you.”

“Why the fuck would you even care?” you sat up and hissed.

“Why are you being so hostile? You’re the one who has been avoiding me all week!” Hoseok raised his voice.

“I’m sure you didn’t have much time to spend with me anyway,” you huffed.

“That’s not true. I spent every moment of my free time looking for you, only for you to turn me away. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Hoseok calmed down.

“Fine. I’m in love with you, okay? How fucking embarrassing. It hurt when you said that I was your super best friend or whatever. Seeing you afterward just reminded me of how dumb I am,” you couldn’t make eye contact with him.

“Oh sunshine, I’m the idiot. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re my special friend because I like you too. I wanted to spend every second with you this week. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that, I’m so sorry ____,” Hoseok got down on his knees and pulled you in for a hug. You were stunned.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner then!” you pushed him off.

“I thought it was obvious from the way we flirted!” he argued. 

“You’re nice to everyone, it was hard for me to tell,” you pouted.

“My apologies for not being a sourpuss like you,” Hoseok laughed.

“So...what now? It wasn’t really a romantic confession but I guess our feelings are out in the open now,” you whispered as you leaned against him.

Suddenly, Hoseok pushed you back to the ground, straddling your hips. His dark hair nearly covered his eyes as he looked down at you. He was beyond beautiful, his white iridescent wings glittered ethereally in the moonlight. 

“Remember when I said you’re like a dessert I can only have twice a year? I’d like to make that a reality,” Hobi smirked. He bent over to kiss you. It was soft at first, his plush lips pressing up against yours. He gently cupped your face with one hand while the other wandered to your chest, undoing your blouse. Lust overtook the both of you as the kiss deepened and Hoseok fondled your breasts. You let out a small gasp as he played with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.  

“Spread those legs for me, sunshine,” he demanded.

You complied, slowly exposing yourself to him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him while in such a compromising position. Hoseok gingerly kissed a trail along your inner thighs towards your core. His hot breath against your pussy made you squirm under him in anticipation.

“So impatient,” he chuckled, “Let’s play a game. You have to make eye contact with me while I eat you out. Every time you look away, I stop.”

“You’re evil,” you huffed before reluctantly looking at the beautiful being perched between your legs. 

“That’s my girl,” he purred approvingly before spreading your folds with his fingers. His eyes darkened with lust as you watched him lick tantalizingly slow stripes. He could feel your need for more, so he moved up to focus on your clit, giving it special attention as his tongue swirled around it. 

You tangled your fingers into his hair, gripping him tighter as he licked your clit faster. All your composure was lost as you looked down at him with pleading eyes.

“What is it? Need more?” Hoseok teased as his fingers traced your entrance.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please what?” Hoseok feigned ignorance

“Please touch me,” you said softly.

“We need to work on your begging, but you’re so adorable I can’t say no,” Hobi dove back into stimulating your clit as he slipped a finger inside of you. He smirked at how easily he went in, and immediately added a second finger. The new feeling had you throwing your head back as he grazed your g-spot. Right as things began to feel good, he retracted everything.

“Hobi!” you cried out in frustration.

“You looked away. Remember the rules to our little game?” Hoseok chided. You glared down at him as he immediately picked up where he left off, not giving you time to readjust. Fighting back the urge to close your eyes, soft moans escaped from your lips.

“Ready to cum, my dear ___?” he asked sweetly as his fingers dipped to directly attack your g-spot.

There was no time to give a proper response. Your back arched and your toes curled up as your orgasm overwhelmed you. Drenched in your juices, Hoseok glistened under the moonlight.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Hoseok praised, “But I’m not finished with you yet,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

He unbuckled his trousers, releasing the monster that dangled between his legs. You willingly spread your legs for him, eager for more.

“So needy, you haven’t had enough yet?” Hoseok tsked as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds.

Finally, Hoseok began to bury himself into you. He took his time, relishing how your warm walls squeezed him. You closed your eyes in ecstasy, focusing on feeling every inch of him. Once he bottomed out, you wrapped your legs around him in an attempt to bring him impossibly closer. The dark lust that swam in his eyes broke for a second, replaced by the warm smile that made you fall in love with him in the first place. He bent down to kiss you, and you happily reciprocated. 

Hoseok moved his hips slowly as he fucked you at a deep yet gentle pace. Mouths still colliding, you shyly licked at his lips. Taking your hint, Hoseok’s tongue met yours. As the kisses deepened with more saliva being interchanged, Hoseok’s thrusts became harsher.    

“You’re so fucking sexy. Lemme see that ass baby,” Hoseok growled as he flipped you over.

He smacked your ass twice and watched it jiggle in awe before placing a firm grip on your hips. Almost animalistically, he bucked into you. Your body jolted forward with each thrust. You had never been fucked this hard before, and it was heavenly. Hoseok’s control over his body movement was insane. Your moans grew louder as his hips continuously rolled into you. 

One of Hoseok’s hands formed a tight grip on your hair, roughly bringing your head up off the ground. You couldn’t stop your wanton moans from filling the open air. 

“H-Hoseok,” you cried out.

“What is it? Is it too much for you?” Hoseok cooed in your ear as he brought your head back even closer to him.

“Mmm-no,” was all you could make out.

“I knew you could take it all, such a good slut,” Hoseok praised as he let go of your hair.

Unable to hold yourself up, you immediately fell back onto your chest. Your fingernails dug into the dirt as you could feel another orgasm swelling up inside of you. 

“I’m gonna cum again,” you wailed out.

“I’m almost there, wait for me baby,” Hoseok instructed.

With perfect timing, Hoseok let out a guttural moan as he spilled his seed inside of you. Sounds of pleasure bounced around the grove as you came in unison. Hoseok’s cum dripped down the sides of your inner thighs when he pulled out. 

“How did I do, sunshine?” Hoseok asked jovially as you laid on the ground before him.

“You knocked me out. I don’t think I can move for a while,” you weakly answered with a smile.

“Not a problem, we can just stay here for a while, sunshine,” Hoseok laid down beside you, beckoning for you to rest atop his chest. 

“I like when you call me that,” you yawned.

“Sunshine?” Hoseok asked.

“Yeah, that. It makes me feel special,” you nodded.

“Is that so? I’m glad it makes you feel special, because you are. You’ve always been the spunky night fairy that everyone knows but is too afraid to approach,” Hoseok laughed.

“What! I am totally friendly! Just not to those who piss me off,” you defended, “Which...I guess is a lot of people so I suppose I see your point. What made you want to be my friend if everyone thought I’m scary?”

“You treated me like everyone else. It always felt like people put on a fake facade around me since I’m the chief’s son. They’re nice to me to try and curry favor with my father, or maybe flirt with me to try and gain some special sort of status. I don’t know. I’m just me,” Hoseok shrugged. 

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re my sunshine,” you hugged him.

“That makes me feel great. I’ll do my best to see you more than twice a year, okay?” he kissed your forehead.

“I guess I can clear my schedule and come over to visit you too,” you giggled, “Or maybe we can run away and make a clan of our own.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, “Don’t tempt me. I’d love to go somewhere where no one knows my name or expects anything from me.”

“How about we go to where the day meets the night?” you offered.

“Like what? An eclipse?” Hoseok said as he gazed into the night sky.

“Precisely. We can make an eclipse clan. We only have to do festivals for eclipses, and those are kinda rare,” you giggled.

“Sounds like a good dream, sunshine. Let’s seriously discuss it in the morning when we’re both more sober,” Hoseok kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight, my sunshine,” you whispered into his chest.

Published July 23, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2021 Baepsaesbae.

[daevastanner]

Elucien: 20 lashes pt II

link to part 1 here

He should let her walk away from him.

He should remain in the corridor.

But her words keep replaying in his mind as she strides down the steps and out the front doors.

“You deserve better,” she had said.

And Lucien realizes… who was the last person to ever consider what he deserved?

For the life of him, Lucien can’t recall the last person, the last instance, where someone took his side.

Where someone stood up for him.

But Elain…

His reluctant mate.

She’d taken his side.

Lucien’s legs are suddenly restless, and he starts down the stairs and towards those double doors.

Out on the front lawn he sees Elain making a bee-line for the stone bench, that sits beneath a dogwood tree.

He nearly chuckles when she plunks herself down unceremoniously.

But then she’s frowning, cradling her hand in her lap. She is in pain.

Lucien hastens his stride to join her. That right hook she had thrown was piss poor. Her fist had been balled up tight, thumb tucked in. She probably jammed her fingers.

And the second punch to Tamlin’s shoulder certainly hadn’t done her any favors.

Lucien cautiously closes the distance between them with extreme caution.

It feels like he’s approaching an easily startled deer.

He wants her to know that he holds her to no promises. He is not taking her display of defiance on his behalf as consent. Lucien only means to help.

He expects nothing in return.

Lucien gestures to the empty space beside her. “May I?”

Elain doesn’t look up from her already bruising knuckles, but nods.

Lucien fluidly sits beside her, taking a deep, steadying breath before speaking again. “I can fix that. Your hand.”

She stills and Lucien curses himself.

He is searching his mind for an excuse to leave when Elain slowly offers him her hand.

It sits there for a moment, hovering in mid air. All Lucien can do is stare at it.

But the soft voice of the mating bond returns to him for the first time in a very long time, and urges Lucien to act.

Willing himself not to tremble, Lucien gently takes Elain’s hand.

It is warm and soft. It reminds him of her eyes.

He holds her fingers in both his hands, lips twisting as he runs a thumb across her knuckles.

“Is it… bad?” Elain asks. “It does hurt. But it doesn’t feel like I broke anything.”

“Can you try and move your little finger for me?”

Elain swallows then hisses as her pinky gives the smallest of movements.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs. “It’s a fairly common injury. Usually seen in drunken brawls.”

“I confess myself inexperienced with such injuries.”

Lucien chuckles at her quiet humor.

Her cheeks pink, Elain presses, “I’m assuming it’s not so grave an injury.”

Lucien meets her eyes and dares the hint of a smirk. “You may never garden again.”

To his surprise and delight, Elain laughs. A true laugh. She tosses her head back and the setting sun casts her hair a burnished gold.

Still, he doesn’t allow himself to hope that this amicability, this easy conversation, will ever evolve beyond this day. Beyond this moment.

He clears his throat as her laughter winds down. “This may tingle a bit,” he cautions.

Elain bobs her head, and Lucien holds her hand just a little tighter, focusing on healing those fractures.

“I didn’t know you had healing magic,” Elain says, a current of discomfort lacing her tone.

“Only the barest amount. No more than your standard fae.” He looks up from her slowly mending hand, meeting her gaze yet again. “You likely have some yourself.”

She hums in approval and the wrinkle between her brows smooths as Lucien finishes healing her hand.

He is reluctant to release it.

When will he touch her again?

When will they be this close again?

No.

He cannot allow himself to hope for that. He cannot allow himself to even consider the possibility.

With no small amount of effort, Lucien releases his hold on her hand.

His chest pinches when she doesn’t immediately withdraw.

Instead she lifts her hand from his palm and holds it to the sunlight, examining it curiously.

“Can you move your fingers?” Lucien asks (even though he knows the answer).

She wiggles her delicate fingers, and something primal in Lucien is pleased.

He has cared for his mate. He has made her feel better. He has healed her.

“I don’t regret it,” Elain says, still admiring her hand. “Hitting him.”

Lucien’s mouth is dry. He doesn’t know how to respond.

She drops her hand then folds both of them in her lap. Her brown eyes focus on the ground as though she’s seeking out an answer in the emerald blades of grass.

“I was just… so angry.” Elain sighs. “I’ve never been so angry in my life.”

He had seen it. He had seen the anger break out on her face. Had practically smelled it on her before she turned and marched into the manor.

And he recognized it. He recognized that feral animosity.

Elain had learned that someone had harmed her mate, and had felt that primal urge to defend him.

“It was like I was burning. It felt like my blood was… charged.”

Lucien nods and considers his next words carefully. “I am familiar with the feeling.”

Elain’s eyes snap to him, and he can’t tell if she’s curious or crestfallen. “It’s… it’s part of… what we share then.”

He nods again.

She sits a little taller, steeling herself. “It’s a part of the mating bond.”

Lucien fights to keep his jaw from dropping. For some reason it’s… staggering to hear her say those words. To hear her mention the mating bond and call it by its name.

“I thought I’d gone mad,” she murmurs. “It felt like I’d lost all control.”

Self-admonishment and guilt flicker in her eyes and Lucien feels a pang of sympathy…

…and again that primal urge to fix this, comfort her.

“No, you aren’t mad.” He didn’t dare hold her stare when he spoke the next words. “It’s white hot when it starts. Your blood roaring in your ears. Your heart thundering against your chest. It blinds you. You feel a need, a compulsion, to act.” Lucien folded his arms and leaned back against the tree, trying to appear casual though he felt anything but. “It takes root and you feel entitled to the rage, because… because the person who… who, erm…”

He doesn’t know how to say it without alarming her.

So she says it for him: “The person who you are bonded to?”

But she says it not as a suggestion.

She says it as a mercy.

To let him know that she is not afraid of him. Not afraid of the bond. He had, in keeping his distance, gained this much ground in her trust.

He continues, “Yes, you feel entitled to rage for that person, and that call to protect… it has to be answered. You think the only way it will fade is… is if you take action.”

“And it did,” she says. “It went away after I hit him…”

There’s an awkward pause and Lucien takes no time in filling it.

“And don’t forgetting spitting at him…”

A soft, wry laugh.

Silence that Lucien is again happy to fill.

“…and then hitting him again.”

Her laugh is a little brighter this time, and when she again meets his gaze her expression is… grateful.

He clears his throat, not wanting to allow himself the chance to savor this moment. To savor the way she looks at him without apprehension.

He doesn’t want her to run.

But he also wants her to know that she is free to.

It pains him to say it, but he forces himself to: “The bond causes many urges, but they are… more easily ignored than some may believe.”

It’s a lie.

But something like disappointment flashes across her face…

It’s just as quickly gone as it had arrived. “I see.”

Lucien feels something between them then. A sort of static thread anchored at the center of his chest. The place where he had felt that warmth spark all those years ago when she’d tumbled out of that cauldron and he had realized she was his mate.

And he suddenly notices that her dainty fingers are resting over her breastbone. Right where she might feel a similar sensation to the one he is experiencing.

This remarkable thread he’d never noticed till this day.

Lucien’s heart wrenches. Oily regret seepes through his veins at what can never be.

He debates telling her now. Telling her what he has planned to give her for Solstice this year.

The opportunity to break their bond.

Gods dammit he had just accepted that their bond was a sham.

He had just resigned himself to being without a mate.

He’d been training his mind for months not to go mad at the loss of her.

And then she had shown up today.

Looking like an angel.

Smiling at him.

Laughing at his jokes.

Wearing his earrings.

Defending him.

Letting him touch her.

Discussing the bond.

Her human heart, he realized, still existed there. It still beat. Fickle and volatile and full.

Did he dare unlock those doors?

Did he dare break the locks he had forged to keep her out?

Did he dare allow himself to dream again?

Did he deserve to?

“I asked you once,” Elain begins, her voice as fragile as a rose petal, “if you could hear my heart. You said you could not.”

Lucien nodded.

“Is the answer the same now?” she asks.

And he can tell that for whatever reason… Elain is hopeful his answer will be different.

But he cannot lie to her. He cannot lie to his mate.

“I cannot.”

The only sound is the breeze rustling the leaves, and Lucien’s blood pounding in his ears.

He remembers her response from before as though it was the rhythm of his own heart:

“No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.”

Her expression then, so forlorn, so hopeless…

She did not wear it now.

Instead, Elain nods, and she seems almost resolute. As though she’s come to a decision.

He doesn’t dare consider what that decision may be. He doesn’t dare to hope.

And even still, as their eyes meet, he can almost hear what she’s thinking. Or at least he thinks so…

But you see me all the same, don’t you?

And he knows she can’t hear him, but he answers her silently: Yes, I do.

The easy silence continues and Lucien, for once, has no words.

“This Court is far too pretty for Tamlin,” she scowls.

And Lucien laughs, full bodied, at such a menacing expression on such a lovely face.

“You should tell him that.”

Elain balks. “I think I should ration my abuses towards him wisely. I’ve already punched him twice on this visit.”

“And spit at him,” Lucien adds wisely.

She laughs and Lucien is reminded of fox-glove flowers.

He is reminded of light and happiness.

The mating bond is the farthest thing from his mind.

Only Elain and her laughter remain.

Elain, her laughter, and the promise of maybe purchasing a new set of sheers for this year’s solstice gift instead.

[vanserraseris]

END OF PART XI - Ok, so Eris finds out about Jesminda and confronts Lucien about it. He says some pretty not nice things to his younger brother (he gets pretty mean), things couldn’t stay great between them forever. Thanks for reading!!!

oooooh boy we’re getting into it now

Prince of Ashes. Part XI.

masterlist.

Eris stumbled when someone slammed a large hand onto his shoulder, reaching for the knife at his side as he whirled on whoever it was. 

“Easy, brother,” rumbled Owain, his red hair a mess and his brown eyes on the snake-head knife hilt in Eris’s hand. Eris had to admit that he’d gotten very used to no one approaching him, let alone having someone lay a hand on him, especially if he wasn't expecting it.

Eris also figured it wouldn’t be good for anyone if he accidentally killed a new servant, and that perhaps his first instinct shouldn’t be to reach for his weapon. Eris returned the dagger to its place on the sheath at his side. “I didn't know it was you.” Owain looked troubled as he opened his mouth to speak, closing it and opening it once more as his eyes looked at anything but his oldest brother.

This sort of behaviour from Owain was unexpected, and Eris’s first thought was that something had happened to their mother. “What’s happened,” Eris demanded. The dominance in his tone suggesting it was best to just spit it out.

“Lucien,” was Owain’s response.

That one word had Eris freezing. “What’s happened,” he repeated, voice low.

“I would have just said — I would have spoken to him, but… He doesn’t,” Owain ran a hand through his hair, “He might listen to you.” Owain was usually stoic, composed. Eris was panicking slightly to see that he looked worried.

“Owain,” Eris snapped, “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, yes, alright, sorry,” Owain lifted his chin just slightly, he was taller than Eris by a lot, but he was looking Eris straight in the eyes. “I saw Lucien in Calchas with a female.”

Eris paused, blinking once before he grinned. “I don’t really see the problem.”

Owain licked his lips, “Right, no, it wouldn’t be, not normally.” 

Eris’s grin shifted, turned more into a bare of teeth, “Then why are you bothering me with this.” Eris had countless things to do, a territory to run, prisoners to deal with. He didn’t have time for whatever this was.

“The female is a lesser faerie, Eris,” there was a hint of desperation in his usually calm tone. “And he’s with her … constantly. You know how father feels about this sort of thing. If it was one time, I wouldn’t have bothered coming to you,” he awkwardly waved one of his large hands, “If someone loyal to father had seen him…” Owain trailed off. Owain hadn’t needed to finish his sentence, Eris knew very well what Beron would do if his youngest son was with a lesser faerie.

Cato’s warning from nearly two decades ago rang clear in his head — Beron wanted to make Lucien’s life as miserable as possible. Eris moved closer to Owain, his hand gripping his younger brother’s thick arm, “What do you know?”

Owain shook his head, “Not much.”

“Tell me everything.” Eris would rather know what little Owain had discovered than nothing at all. 

“She’s a farm girl, works in the orchards with her family, can’t be older than three decades.”

Owain sounded like he was giving Eris a report, “Priam and Maddox have seen them as well, usually out in the fields, by the rivers, they don’t go to the city often, but knowing this court, they go enough that commoners have noticed.”

“What are the rumours?”

“Amongst the High Fae? Just gossip. No different than what they say about the rest of us.” There were always rumours surrounding the Vanserras. “I’m just,” Owain’s cheeks turned red as he mumbled, “Worried, I suppose.”

Eris scanned Owain’s face for any signs of deception. He seemed sincere, but Eris wasn’t entirely shocked, Owain wasn’t horrible. “I’ll talk to him,” Eris assured his younger brother, “But this stays between us.”

Owain nodded once, embers in his brown eyes, “Of course.” Eris gave Owain what he hoped was a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but Owain’s hand snapped up, grabbing Eris by the wrist.

“You can… You can trust me, Eris,” he said, voice low, auburn brows furrowed. “I don’t want Lucien dead anymore than you do.” Eris didn’t get a chance to respond as Owain let go of him, winnowing away with a loud crack, leaving Eris alone in the otherwise empty hallway. Eris would think on this later, about possibly trusting Owain. Owain had always been closer to Cato, closer to Maddox, but he knew they’d all be stronger together if they could all stop fighting amongst themselves.

With a shake of his head, throwing his shoulders back, Eris walked down the hall, making his way to Lucien’s room. Eris couldn’t understand where in the hells he went wrong. He’d spent decades telling Lucien not to make any attachments, not to do anything that would draw any unwanted attention, not to do anything that would anger their father. Not their father. Eris was certain if Lucien knew the truth he wouldn’t refer to Beron as such.

Eris growled just thinking about the vow he’d made to his mother nearly thirty years ago. He bounded up a flight of stairs, flames flaring in the sconces on the walls. He’d been in such a rush that he almost ran past Lucien’s bedroom door, backtracking with an annoyed snarl. He still hadn’t decided what exactly he was going to tell his youngest brother, but he lifted his fist, banging a little too loudly on the dark wood. Once Eris heard the muffled “come in,” he shoved open the door.

Lucien was lounging on his bed, shoes off, the laces of his shirt loose. He was holding a book, one that Eris had read before. “Fallon’s Fables” was painted in an elegant, gold script on the cover. It was more of a story book than an actual tome for educating oneself. It had been Eris’s favourite when he’d been young, he’d gifted his to Rufus decades ago and he wondered whether the book Lucien had in his hands was the same one.

Lucien grinned up at him, his eyes bright. “I thought you were Rufus.”

Eris slammed the door shut, locking it, “I need to talk to you.”

“Hello to you as well,” Lucien’s grin faltered just slightly, and Eris briefly thought that he should have greeted his youngest brother, but he’d already started speaking.

“Lucien, tell me right now it’s not true.” Eris was trying to keep calm, he was trying not to yell, he was trying not to get angry. He would give Lucien a chance to explain himself.

Lucien closed his book, laughed a little nervously. “Tell you what?” He questioned.

Eris’s nostrils flared. The unmistakable scent of his little brother was obvious. But among the familiar citrus, weaving in and out of that scent, was apple blossoms. Eris groaned, “Lucien, what the fuck are you thinking?”

“You’re starting to worry me a bit, you know?”

Eris could have set the room on fire. “You don’t worry about me,” Eris shook his head, “Stick to worrying about yourself.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lucien was wary now, but his eyes were still bright. “Is this one of your riddles?”

“Yes,” Eris stepped closer to the bed, a mocking smile on his face. “I’m an idiot who chooses to ignore my older brother’s good advice.”

“Easy,” Lucien smiled, just like he’d done when he was younger and he’d found the answer to any of Eris’s riddles, “Rufus Vanserra.”

“Rufus isn't the one parading around Calchas with a lesser faerie,” Eris crooned.

Lucien’s face dropped, his smile gone, Eris could practically see Lucien trying to come up with some lie. He noticed when Lucien decided to just tell the truth, arms crossed defensively in front of his chest, jaw set. “So?”

“So?” Eris wanted to laugh, “That’s all you have to say?” Eris was going to light the whole room on fire if he didn’t get a handle on his anger.

Lucien looked up at Eris, flames in his eyes, “I don’t know why it matters, most of what I do doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it does,” Eris spat. He had to remind himself to take deep, calming breaths. “Find another female to fuck.” Eris found he was absolutely horrendous at this. Even Eris thought that was crue, too cruel. He should have gone straight to their mother and asked her to deal with whatever the hells this was.

Lucien’s face unexpectedly softened, “I love her, Eris.”

Eris threw his hands in the air in defeat, “You’re not supposed to love things in this cauldron-forsaken court,” Eris was getting angrier by the second. “This court is cruel and brutal, there is no place for love in it.” It was a lesson all of them had learned, a lesson that Beron had taught them, a rule each of them tried to follow. In Autumn, a rule like that kept you alive. 

“You sound just like father.”

Eris flinched, just slightly, Lucien probably hadn’t even noticed. Eris would have rather Lucien stabbed him then tell him something like that. But he would stand his ground, “End it.”

“I’m not going to,” Lucien lifted his chin, his jaw set. Had Lucien always been this stubborn?

“And I’m not going to say it again,” Eris growled, “End it.”

“What about you, then?” Lucien snarled, eyes flaring. “You and all your lovers? Everyone knows you’ve had countless.”

Eris felt his rage mounting as he waved a hand dismissively, trying to act as unbothered as possible. “They meant nothing.”

Eris felt the tips of his ears heat as Lucien asked, “What about Micah?”

“I didn’t tell you that so you could throw it in my face.” Eris snarled back, his voice low. Eris was regretting having trusted Lucien and Rufus with it now, even if they both hadn’t seemed to care when he’d mentioned that Micah had been his lover.

“I’m not throwing it in your face,” Lucien shook his head, he looked hurt that Eris would consider it. “I just don’t think you have any right to sit there and lecture me about forbidden love.”

“I didn’t love him.”

Lucien didn’t look like he believed him for a moment. “Honestly?” 

Eris ran his tongue over his teeth, ran his fingers through his hair, “Honestly.”

“Cauldron, that’s bullshit and you know it,” Lucien raised his brows.

“Cauldron fucking boil me, Lucien, I was young and reckless once, too,” Eris started, probably as close to an admission of the love he’d had for Micah as anyone would get, “But I know better now.” Eris’s relationships never lasted, either because of him or because he ended them before they got too serious, before he got too invested. Micah had been one of his only exceptions, and even that had ended. Eris shook his head, “End it and court a female father will approve of.”

“Yes, because all you do is court lovely females father would approve of?” Eris knew he was being a ridiculous hypocrite, but this was different. Eris was the heir, and his father didn’t pay much attention to anyone he took to bed, and Eris had had a whole lot of practice making sure his father only knew about the females he’d wanted Beron to know about. No matter how often Eris messed up, Eris figured his father probably wasn’t going to kill him - he couldn’t afford to, not anymore.

Eris was a damn good courtier and a fantatsic fucking commander, his father would have to be an imbecile to kill him off. But Lucien wasn’t important, not to Beron. He was young and worthless. Lucien was the runt of the litter. “This isn’t about me,” Eris snapped, finally having reached the end of his rope. “This is about you.”

Lucien jumped to his feet, throwing the book from his hands onto his bed, “You don’t get to do that,” he shouted.

Eris growled, opening his mouth to speak, but Lucien wasn’t finished. “You’ve been gone for over a year, you don’t get to come back when it suits you and tell me how to live my life!” Eris stiffened, watching as Lucien waved a hand in his direction. Embers fell to the floor from Lucien’s fingers. “Don’t act like you care, Eris, when it’s obviously not the case.”

It was true that Eris hadn’t been to The Forest House in quite some time, but he hadn’t thought Lucien would be so angry at him for it, that Lucien would accuse him of not caring. Eris wanted to stomp his foot like some spoiled child, say Lucien was being unfair, that he was acting like a youngling. “Just think of the mess I’ll have to clean up when this goes wrong,” Eris snarled. “Think for one moment and you’ll see nothing good can come of this ridiculous dalliance.”

Eris knew he’d been too harsh when Lucien’s face hardened.“Get out,” Lucien spat, a strange golden glow to his eyes.

Eris scowled. “Fine then, don’t fucking listen,” he moved to the door. “See if I’ll fucking help if you get caught.”

“I don’t need your fucking help,” Lucien sneered. “I’ve lived my whole life without your help.” Eris had his hand on the doorknob, frozen on the spot, as he gasped out a choked laugh.

Turning to face Lucien, brows raised, lip curled, Eris cocked his head to the side — the words he spoke quiet. “Have you?”

Lucien’s expression changed, almost imperceptibly, almost like he regretted having said that, but he stood his ground. “Get out, Eris.”

Eris should have stayed, should have apologized, but he had never been very good at admitting when he’d been wrong. With one last shake of his head, Eris threw open the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Eris heard something shatter in Lucien’s room, he heard Lucien’s muffled shout, but he kept walking. Eris knew there were flames in his eyes, flames trailing behind him as he walked towards his study with fast steps. He could practically hear his mother’s voice from when he’d been young, urging him to tame his magic. The flames should not control you, she’d tell him, you must be the one to control them.

Eris had struggled with his magic as a child, tutors thought him too dangerous to teach, and his mother had taught him to control it when even Beron hadn’t been able to. Eris was having trouble keeping his magic controlled now, though. The temperature around him raised, the air holding some of that choking feel that his father’s magic so often had. Eris really was becoming just like Beron.

Eris slammed the door to his study open with his shoulder. The fireplace flared to life as he entered, flames wild. Eris needed to be careful, or he’d set all his books on fire. Eris took a deep breath, “I’m in control,” he muttered. “I’m in control.” He clenched his fists, the flames disappearing, “I’m in control.” Eris took another deep breath, picturing dying embers in his mind. He was going to speak to his mother, she would be able to help him.

Lucien had always listened to him and Eris didn’t know what he was going to do now that he hadn’t. Perhaps Eris would damn the consequences and drain his father’s stash of good cognac. Perhaps Eris would go to the streets of Calchas in search of some company. Or, Perhaps Eris would simply stay at the Forest House and pray this did not end badly.