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rinixo · 1 year

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someday

Din Djarin/Reader | 4.5k | Rated E | afab reader, no y/n, smut, oral sex, vaginal fingering, resolved sexual tension

After a wedding, desires they have kept at bay spill forth. There's no coming back from this.

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After three days of trekking through a misty, muddy forest, you were looking forward to a hot shower and a meal. Your feet hurt from stumbling down rocky hillsides and your back hurt from carrying your pack, now filled to the brim with artifacts from the ruins you had plundered.

You, Din, and Grogu had landed on this outer rim planet just about four days ago, seeking some ruins that your sources told you may be connected to the Jedi. Initially, the three of you were going to explore the ruins together but Din had been wrangled into helping a local settlement with a problem.

As you disembarked the ship days earlier, a young woman had hurried towards your small party, a frantic look on her face. She had explained that her fiancée had been recently kidnapped and was being held for ransom by a local crime lord, and she begged for assistance. The town had pooled together the ransom funds, but past experiences with the criminals had shown that they most likely would not have honored their terms. Thus, the woman’s plea for the armored Mandalorian to rescue her fiancée and deal with the crime lord and his goons once and for all.

Din had been hesitant at first, but at your insistence had agreed to help. You felt bad for the young woman – named Tineke, you later found out – and knew you wouldn’t have been able to alleviate your guilt if you or Din had refused. Privately, the two of you decided that Din would go after the criminals while you journeyed to the ruins to find what you could. Tineke had offered to keep an eye on Grogu while you were out.

According to your maps, the ruins were about a two-day hike from your current location, hidden in caves the Crest would not have been able to land near. Similarly, the crime lord’s hideout was two days in the opposite direction. The locals had told you that the ruins were considered haunted and were thus rarely ever approached by sentient beings. That suited you just fine – you were not particularly superstitious and knew the rumors would only help ensure a safe journey there and back. Din was less than enthused at the prospect of you wandering off on your own, but the promise of the ransom funds as a reward helped to sweeten the deal and convince him to let you go. The Crest needed some repairs, and fuel was expensive and hard to come by out here in the outer rim. Credits were always welcome.

Thankfully, you were right and your journey was uneventful. The most exciting thing that happened was you scaring yourself with your own shadow while in the caves and slipping in mud after a rainstorm. Now, as you approached the town, you were eager to clean up and see Din and Grogu. The thick forests and rocky cliffs had made your short-range communicators mostly ineffective, but you had remained in contact in what ways you could over the last few nights. Din had installed a mod onto your wrist comm that allowed the two of you to send pulses that vibrated when you touched them. The two of you had come up with a kind of secret code, where around the same time each night you would send an ‘I’m ok’ pulse and he would send one in return. If either of you failed to respond, it would signal something was wrong. Thankfully nothing had yet to go wrong, and it was nice to have a reminder that you weren’t alone during the dark nights.

You had expected Din would have finished his task and returned faster than you had – benefits of having a jetpack – and based on the excited chattering you could hear from the town center you guessed right. Before you had left the locals had skittered from place to place nervously, always looking over their shoulders. Now there were people out everywhere, and it looked like they were planning some kind of celebration. Lights and streamers hung from building to building, wrapped around trees, and you could smell something delicious cooking. It was quite the sight.

Squeezing through the crowd, you murmured apologies as you searched for Din or Tineke. You quickly found them both, along with Grogu and another young woman held close at Tineke’s side. All four of them turned towards you as you approached, and you smiled at Grogu’s pleased squeal at your arrival.

“You’re back!” Tineke exclaimed. She came forward and surprised you with a tight embrace. You looked over her shoulder at Din, who offered a half-shrug in response. Tineke then let you go and pulled the other young woman towards you.

“This is Galina, my beloved,” she introduced the two of you. Galina proffered a shy smile, hand clasped tightly in Tineke’s. “The bounty hunter rescued her and banished the crime lord and his people.”

“Banished?” You mused, mouth curving into a half-smile. Din sighed. You were enjoying the young woman’s excited if not somewhat exaggerated enthusiasm, even if he was not.

“Yes!” Tineke said, eyes shining. “And I’m so glad you’re back – we were just talking and I just insist that you stay for our wedding celebrations. It’s the least we can do to repay you.”

“Oh?” You raised a brow, intrigued. Behind the excited couple, you could see Din shake his head ‘no’. Attending any kind of celebration wasn’t exactly up his alley, but you were tired, and muddy, and it was getting late.

“I’m sure we can spare a few hours,” you agreed, and the two young women squealed with happiness. Din sighed again, and you cast him a reproachful look.

“Is there somewhere I can clean up?” You asked. Galina explained that her family was already setting aside rooms for your small party in thanks for her rescue and that you could bathe and change into clean clothes there before joining the celebration. She led you towards her home, and you stepped tiredly behind her, Din joining you shortly after.

“Really?” He asked, and you scoffed.

“Just for a few hours?” You asked. “I haven’t showered in three days and having a real ‘fresher sounds great. Plus free food, Din, you can’t argue with that.”

Another sigh was your response, and you knew you had won the argument. You pulled your pack to your front and opened it up to show him what you had found.

“Besides, it’ll take me a bit to decipher these,” you explained. Din took the pack from you and carefully looked over your findings.

“Very well,” he conceded.

An hour or so later, you were drying your hair as Galina’s sister – a heavily pregnant woman named Lin – laid out several outfit options for you. She chatted excitedly the whole time, about her husband, her sister’s wedding, and what color of gown would match your eyes best.

“How long have you and the Mandalorian been together?” Lin asked as you allowed her to help you wrap the simple yet elegant fabric around your body. You coughed awkwardly.

“Oh, no, we’re not together, not like that,” you corrected, and Lin threw you a knowing glance. “We’re…just friends. Traveling companions.”

Lin huffed out a short laugh. “Oh of course,” she replied. “My Nilo and I were just friends once, and well –“ She patted her swollen belly, and you tried not to flush at her insinuation.

“He has a creed,” you tried to explain, but she was quite sure of herself and merely cast you more knowing looks as you finished dressing. You decided not to argue with her, as the truth of your relationship with Din was complicated even for you.

There was something there, you’d bet on it. Though you had never seen his face, you could sometimes feel his stare on you. There were moments when the two of you were closer than just traveling companions would be, though he always seemed to pull back at the last moment. A gloved hand on your back that would creep just a little too low, a prolonged tap on your thigh to get your attention. Once, on the edge of sleep, you had just been barely aware of him standing near your cot before he pulled your blanket up to cover your bare shoulder, and the brush of his hand still made you shiver.

It was driving you wild, and yet you could not summon the bravery needed to breach the gap. You were so sure there was something there, but the fear of rejection stayed your own hand. Part of you knew that you’d never really know unless that gap was bridged, but out of respect and a desire to not make living together on the cramped ship awkward you always hesitated.

Lin declared you dressed and ready, bringing you out of your solemn thoughts. You looked at your reflection in the mirror, pleased with how the fabric clung to your curves. Patting your hair, Lin instructed you to go downstairs to join the celebrations.

You trounced down the stairs and made your way out into the cool evening air. All around you lights glittered, the air heavy with the smell of incense. It was quite the change from the fearful first impression the town had given three days ago.

You looked around for Din and found him off to the side of the main plaza. He was leaning up against the side of the building, arms crossed as he watched Grogu run around with some local children. As you approached, you appreciated the way his armor caught the light, noticing not for the first time that he cut quite the figure.

“He seems to be enjoying himself,” you said in greeting as you joined the bounty hunter. His helmet dipped in acknowledgment, and you stood in an easy silence as you watched Grogu play. Further ahead, the wedding party was settling under a large tree that marked the center of town. The sound of strings and bells started, and the crowd let out a series of cheers as music beckoned people out to dance.

The newly wedded couple were the first to venture out. Even from this distance you could see the adoration in how Tineke and Galina circled each other. Gradually others joined them in the dance, and you looked over toward Din.

“Do Mandalorians dance?” You asked, half-teasing.

Din shook his head. “My covert never did,” he said shortly. “Not much cause for celebration.”

You hmm’d in response. “That’s too bad.”

A pause, before Din spoke again. “Do you?”

“Do I dance?” You asked, and he nodded. You smiled and twirled in response. He turned his head slightly to watch you and the way the fabric swirled around your hips and legs.

“A little, and not well,” you laughed. “But it’s fun, when I do get the chance.”

His gaze lingered on you for half a breath longer before he tipped his head toward the crowd. “You should go. Have fun.”

You glanced in that direction, heart sinking just a little. “A-alright,” you replied. “See…see you later?”

He nodded again in response, and you let yourself wander into the crowd and sink into the rhythm of the sound and movement, and tried to forget your aching heart for a few moments.

Din’s gaze wandered between the child playing in the dirt and the girl dancing under the twinkling lights. Even in the crowd, he could pick her out easily – the way her hair looked in the warm light, the way her gown hugged her waist. All things he hoped to imprint into his mind.

He had thought you beautiful for a while, but you were truly breathtaking here, under the stars. He watched as you spun around, that easy grin on your lips. A local man – a boy, truly – came forward to take your hands and he could hear your laugh as you let him twirl you. He clenched his fists, not used to needing an outlet for the feelings in his chest. Jealousy, desire – all fairly foreign to him until you had entered his life.

Din almost wondered if you could tell how he felt towards you. He often found himself staring at you, studying the way your brow furled in confusion at some complicated equation. He had begun to memorize the way it felt to pass his hand along your back, to the curve of your waist, and the way you’d look up at him as he did so. He liked how the refresher smelled like your soap after you finished bathing.

This was the first time the two of you had been separated by different objectives, and the entire time you were apart he had fought the urge to constantly check in to make sure you were safe. He knew you were smart and resourceful, but the idea of you being hurt or lost made him almost sick with worry. Each night he would send you a pulse through your communicator, and his heart would pound each second it took to feel your response.

Seeing you again in town, safe and successful, had made a weight slide off his shoulders. If it were anyone else he would have insisted on not staying for this party, but he was becoming increasingly susceptible to your desires. A year ago he would have scoffed in the face of the Mando that would agree to attend a backwater town’s wedding celebration – but the Mando from a year ago didn’t know you.

“Having fun?” A cheery voice snapped him out of his reverie. The pregnant woman from earlier, he didn’t catch her name, had come out of the crowd to join him. She fanned herself with a paper fan, one hand caressing her stomach gently.

Din grunted in response, not feeling particularly chatty. The woman sent him a gleaming smile, and a tinge of mischief was in her eye.

“That’s a pretty girl you’ve got,” she pointed her fan in the direction of the crowd where you continued to dance. “Surprised you’d let other men get so close.”

“She’s not mine,” Din bit back. “She is free to dance with whomever she wishes.”

“She wishes it was you,” the woman challenged. She pursed her lips, a tone of authority in her voice.

“You rescued my sister, and gave us this night,” she continued. “So let me give you some advice in return, bounty hunter. If you don’t take the chance, someone else will. A beautiful young girl like that…you’ll run out of chances sooner or later.” With that, she snapped her fan shut and bid him farewell before wandering back into the crowd.

Din watched her go, throat dry, knowing she was right. He had deluded himself into feeling content with what he felt, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before you would move on and he’d be left with the ‘what-ifs.’

Hours later, you stumbled into the small but comfortable room set aside for you, cheeks flushed from the dancing and feasting. You hummed to yourself softly as you began to prepare for bed, the low light of a lamp casting dancing shadows across the walls.

You hadn’t seen Din since you had left to join the crowd earlier. You guessed he had dipped out early with Grogu, and while you were somewhat disappointed you understood. His room was directly across from yours, and you had knocked softly as you returned to let him know you were back as well. There had been no answer, and so you resigned yourself to rest until daylight. No doubt Din would want to be off as soon as dawn arrived.

The soft ‘click’ of the door opening and closing made you turn, and you saw Din standing just inside your doorway. His bulk took up most of the entrance, and you cast him a small frown.

“Oh, did I wake you?” You apologized, hands dropping from where they had started to undo the fabric of your gown. “I didn’t mean to. I’m fine.”

“You didn’t,” Din replied, and then was silent again. You raised a brow, confusion apparent on your face.

“Oh.” You waited for a few heartbeats for him to say why he was here. If he was just checking on you, he would have left by now, right?

“Do you…need something?” You asked, and in response, he stepped slowly towards you. You didn’t know why you felt so nervous. He stopped just in front of you, hands twitching nervously at his side.

“Your gown,” he stated. “It looks – you look good.” Din’s voice was soft, and so was the touch he gave you as he raised a gloved hand to brush over your shoulder. Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Din?” You whispered. His hand stayed hovering over your shoulder, and there was a tension in the air – between the two of you, and in the way he seemed to both want to pull away and move in closer.

Slowly, as if you were trying not to startle a wild animal, your hand come up to touch his. He watched as you gently pulled off his glove and set it to the side. Your bare skin brushed against his, and you smiled at the softness of it.

You pressed your palm against his and wondered at how neatly they fit together. You knew your hands were smaller than his, but seeing them like this honed in on the difference.

Gently, you folded his fingers down and brought them to your lips. You both heard and felt how Din’s voice hitched at the touch, and you closed your eyes as you directed his hand to your shoulder where the clasp of your gown was.

Understanding, Din began to undress you. He carefully unwound the fabric, a sort of measured hesitation in his movements. His hand drifted from one shoulder over your collarbone to the other and guided the cloth down over your breasts. Eyes still closed, you huffed out a small sigh as he grazed soft fingers over the peak of your breast, hardening nipples brushing over his palm as he let the gown drop to your hips.

You let yourself move closer as he pushed the fabric all the way down so that it pooled around your legs. Even through the helmet the feeling of him staring at your bare form burned deliciously. You fought the urge to cover yourself – not out of embarrassment, but from the pure blaze of attention you felt from him.

Taking his other hand, you pulled off the glove and brought it to the center of your chest. You held it there, looking up into the T of his visor, wondering if he could feel the way your heart pounded under your ribcage.

“What are you thinking?” Din asked you softly. You blinked up at him through your lashes.

“I wish I could kiss you,” you admitted, and heard his answering sigh and felt his fingers graze softly against your skin. He tilted his head forward and you followed so that your forehead and the front of his helmet met gently.

“I know,” he husked. Taking your hand, he tugged you towards the low bed in the corner of the room, turning out the light on the way. The room was plunged into darkness until your eyes settled a few moments later. You couldn’t see more than the vague outline of his figure as the two of you settled down onto the soft blankets.

He laid you out there, hands stroking softly up and down your body. You wondered if he could see you clearly through his helmet.

“Someday,” he promised.His hand stroked your cheek gently before it came down over your neck and collarbone. You relaxed into the sheets and let out a pleased sigh as his hand brushed over the plush weight of your breasts. He rolled your nipples in his fingers, and you arched sweetly into the tug of it. While one hand continued to tease you there, the other crested down your stomach, dipping briefly into your belly button before spreading wide over your lower pelvis.

“Open,” he commanded breathlessly, and you obeyed without question. Parting your trembling thighs, you keened softly as the hand not occupied with your breasts slid down to cup your center. Two fingers slid between your lips to find you wet and wanting, and they rolled over your clit slowly.

“Very good,” Din praised, and you smiled. His fingers dipped into the wetness dripping from your pussy, coming back up to slick over your slowly swelling clit. Biting your lip, you resisted the urge to roll your hips into his touch.

He stroked you methodically, purposefully. Wholly interested in your pleasure, he delighted in the way your breath left you in soft gasps. He spread your thighs a little wider and slid two fingers up into you so that you had no choice but to arch up and roll into it.

You scrunched up your face at the stretch of it paired with the firm pressure he was applying to your clit. Din grasped the leg closest to him and brought it to lay over his thigh so that you were spread even more, your hips lifted at an angle. He fucked you with his fingers and you reached out, grasping at what armor you could reach.

“Yes,” you groaned, and he answered you with a particularly rough push of his fingers. “Just-just there, please –“

“Anything for you,” he answered. “Anything you want, beautiful, wet, tight girl –“

His fingers curve, poking at that spot inside you that made you feel bottomless. You wanted more, wanted to feel your cunt stretch around him. You didn’t realize that your fevered thoughts were spilling out into nearly incoherent rambling until you heard him answering.

“I know, I know,” he placated, the hand not playing with your slit coming up to brush over your parted mouth. “I want it too, sweet girl, I want you so badly – you have no idea what you’re doing to me –“

You dart your tongue out to meet his fingers and your stomach coils at the sound that comes from him when you suck on them.

“Fuck me, Din,” you beg, and he groans.

“Not yet,” he crooned, hand not once letting up from its intense pace. “Someday, not yet, come on baby – “

You arch further as your stomach curls and your leg goes numb. You are on the precipice of orgasm, pleading with voice and body for Din to let you fall over the edge.

He obliges you, like he said he would, and murmurs filthy praise as you shake and clench on his hand. Your legs snap close before he forces them open again, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your puffy clit to prolong your release.

You lose your voice in the height of it and come crashing back down on waves of liquid heat. Your eyes flutter open, eyesight blurred, and you look down your body at where his large hand is still cupped over your aching cunt.

“Din,” you plead, and his head snaps from where it was focused on his hand to your face. You blink wetly at him, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He wasn’t going to. He was pleased enough with being able to touch you, feel you, and have you come undone at his hands. Maker, he could die happy having done that. But the way your eyes begged, blown dark and wide with pleasure, made that last rope of resistance snap.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and rolled so he was covering your body with his. You molded yourself up against his, rolling your hips to feel where his cock lay – hard and throbbing for you. Your hands came up to tug on his shoulders, and he dipped his head down next to your neck as he ground his hips into yours.

“L-let me touch you,” you begged. “Please –“ you pushed against his shoulders to roll him back over, switching places so that you were in between his thighs. His helmeted head leaned up to look at you, cock twitching as your shaking hands went to his belt.

You wasted no time in undoing the clasp and pulling down his trousers enough to pull his cock out. It was heavy and hot in your hands, and a throb of pleasure shot through you at the size of it, the thought of how well it would fill you up.

Someday, you echoed his earlier promise before dipping your head to lathe your tongue over him. Din groaned in response, head falling back to hit the mattress. His cock jumped in your hand and you hummed around him as you began to work to take him as deep into your mouth as you could.

You could feel how his thighs trembled. His cock leaked pre-spend, the salty taste of it coating your tongue as you ran it up and down his length.

“Fuck,” Din cried hoarsely. The number of times he had imagined your lips around his cock failed to compare to the feeling of you wet and hot between his legs. He wanted to taste you in turn, and told you so through gritted teeth.

You moaned at his words, the vibration of it adding to the man’s cresting pleasure. One hand came down to tangle at your hair, tugging and stroking in time with your own pace. The other he used to prop himself up on one elbow – he wanted to see you there, between his thighs, taking his cock in your mouth.

“Maker you look so fucking good,” he rasped. “Fuck, gonna come down your throat, pretty girl – fuck –

Your hands squeezed him at his base as you lowered your mouth further, spittle dripping out from where your lips were wrapped around him. The sound of it was filthy – his groans, your choked moans around his length, the slick of your hand stroking him hard and fast.

His hips twitched as he edged closer – not quite fucking your face, but enough to signal his desperation. You loved the way his hands tightened on your scalp, loved the way he was coming undone underneath you.

Din pulsed in your mouth, and you hollowed your cheeks to suck once more before he husked out a series of curses, coming down your throat. His hips bucking, his abdomen tight as he groaned all the way through it. You swallowed it all, hand and mouth not leaving him until you lapped up the last of his spend

You looked up at him. His hand was still your hair, your lips and chin soaked from your own spit and his release. Both of you were panting – soft gasps in the cool air of the dark room

He rasped your name, hand coming down from your scalp to trace the curve of your cheekbone. You closed your eyes and leaned into it, climbing up his body to lay against him, skin prickling where it touched cold beskar. He stroked your head and face as you laid a flushed cheek against his chest. His other hand stroked down your bare back, tracing imperceptible patterns.

The dam had been breached. Both of you were satisfied, but both wanted more.

“Someday,” he murmured again as if he could read your mind. “I promise.”

a/n: part 2??... perhaps（´∀`)

#din djarin x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin smut #mando smut #mandalorian smut #the mandalorian #din djarin #din x reader

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brekkie-e · 1 year

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I just want to remind everyone.

Varric had Cassandra completely fooled into thinking the Inquisitor was going to propose to some mysterious unknown paramour during Trespasser.

Now. This isn't entirely impressive given we know he is well adept at fooling Cass.

However, I raise you this. Solas's spies were all over Halamshiral. Can you imagine being the poor spy that has to report to the Dreadwolf that the Inquisitor is very soon to be engaged.

Solas being torn between deep confusion, disbelief, and dramatic throes of pathetic pining. Realizing her relationship must have gone on for sometime without his knowledge if she's ready to propose. Being devestated that while he has sat here pining, she had already found another to shower in her affections. Being distraught that whomever this is, she deems them enough of a catch to propose herself. Who the hell are they? Could they really compare to the Dreadwolf? She never proposed to him. Discovering the source of the information is Varric, and realizing he shouldn't take it at face value. But not quite being able to shake off the "oh woe is me my life is over" energy despite it.

This is complete crack, obviously. I just think it'd have been hilarious if when you finally reach him in Trespasser he's got:

Draped over that Eluvian behind him. He tries to say, "I suppose you have questions." And it comes out, "Were you going to invite me to the wedding?"

When Cass finds out she screams "Vindication!" And tries to convince Varric she wasnt the only one fooled.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #solavellan #solas #fen'harel #dragon age funny #im sorry this is the stupidest thing but i think about it every day #brekkie thoughts

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entertwinedsewntogether · 1 year

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Long, long time | L.H

luke hemmings x reader

summary: you don't know how much longer you can cope with luke being on tour

warnings: panic attack, anxiety, angst with comfort, hurt/comfort, fem reader, reader is really going through it, very brief mention of lack of appetite, bit of poor self hygiene, not proofread

a/n: first time posting on tumblr despite being on here for years. literally terrified, also how god damn good is the feeling of falling upwards live album. i started levitating, don't get me started on os/co i could write a whole essay. also the ending is so rushed it's not funny but i couldn't think of an ending.

plus, the ending was my grandparents wedding song and i think it's so romantic so i put it in.

It was early. The night had kept you awake, closing your eyes meant seeing every mistake you had ever made play in your mind. The curtains on your window were left open, the empty street and faint stars mocking your every move. The dim streetlight was your only source of light, and something about it was wrong.

It had been two weeks of this, of constantly shaking hands and always looking over your shoulder. Showering took more effort than it should, you had a never ending stomach ache, it felt like you didn't need to eat or drink. Your brain had been on constant overdrive for so long that it didn't know how to switch off, and it felt like there were rubber bands, squeezing around your chest and your brain, getting tighter and tighter by the minute.

For two weeks, you had done the same thing each night. Sitting up in bed, crossing your legs under your thick blanket and rocking, back and forth and back and forth. Your hands found your hair. It was greasier than you realised. How long had it been since you washed it? Stretching out your fingers, they felt wrong. They look different then you remembered. How long had it been since you had looked at yourself? Your hands find your knees, gripping onto them as you continue to rock.

You really don't want to. But you know you should. Where is he today? What even is the date today? When did you last talk to him?

Oh, his voice. His sweet, sweet voice. What would he say if he saw you like this? And this bed. This bed is far too big without him in it.

Luke is worried as well. You last spoke three days ago, and it was only texting. Usually you facetime every night, but he hasn't seen your face in just over a week. He wonders if you are busy, are you seeing your friends, are you working more?

If you squeeze your eyes shut, you can see him. He is sitting on the bed in front of you, he is holding you, he is smiling that gorgeous soft smile that he sends your way whenever you feel down. You can feel his hands rubbing up your arms in a soothing manner, his lips pressing against your forehead as the sweetest act of comfort.

You raise a hand to his side of the bed, dragging your hand along his pillow. No. No. The corner of your eyes prick.

Standing up on shaky legs, you stumble through the dark until you find your phone, face down on your floor, next to some discarded clothes. When did you let your bedroom get this filthy? The hands digging at your chest begin to dig their nails in. You kneel down, sitting on your heels and click your phone on. It's far too bright, it stings your eyes, but nonetheless you gaze lovingly at your lockscreen. At Him.

His beautiful blue eyes, warm and loving, and his gorgeous eyelashes, god he is blessed. His beautiful smile, halfway to a laugh, bringing a sad smile to your lips. Your eyes blur as you touch his cheek through your phone screen, a ragged breath coming from your chest.

You unlock your phone, blurry eyes and shaky hands pressing his contact, and the big green call button. It rings once, twice, three times, four times.

"Hey honey! You ok? Isn't it early at home?"

You don't respond. Your mouth hangs open in shock. He's alive. He's breathing. He's real, and you haven't imagined him. His voice is coming through your phone, he is on the other end and you can almost feel him.

A deep breath.

"Luke," You sob, "Luke."

"Oh, my girl."

You can hear voices becoming louder, and some clattering, a door closing and finally, just him.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"It hurts, Luke. It really hurts."

"What hurts?"

"My chest. It's too tight and I can't breathe properly, and my brain is so sore, every time I move it stings and burns. And my skin is too tight on me, but it's too loose in some places, and I don't recognise myself and I'm so scared. I'm so tired, and I'm so scared, and I can't sleep, and the bed is too big and the house is too silent, and I need you."

You say it all in one breath, trying hard to regulate your breathing as you hold onto the phone for dear life.

"Ok, can we take some breaths together? Nice and slow. You're ok. You're safe."

You try to breathe, and eventually your chest opens up a bit. You open up your mouth to talk, but suddenly it's all mush. You sit together in silence for a bit. Speaking is too difficult. You click the phone onto speaker, and try to make your way back to bed.

"I'm right here baby, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere."

You manage to groan out a response, pulling your blanket over your shaking body. Another sob escapes your lips, and you wrap your arms around your middle, pretending that you are anywhere else, that you are anybody else, that you have your boy with you.

"I'm so proud of you, you're so brave, can we keep taking some deep breaths? Just copy me."

You listen to his breathing through the phone and try to copy it, the pressure in your throat easing slightly.

"I love you so much. And I'm home so soon. So soon."

"Yeah. Not soon enough." A shaky inhale, a shaky exhale.

"Do you want me to sit with you for a bit? I can be quiet, or I can talk, whatever you need honey."

He is so patient. He is so kind. The first time he saw you have one of these, he sat in the dark in complete silence with you for threehours.

"Talk to me. I need to hear your voice."

And so he does. He talks about what you will do when he gets back. He talks about hearing you in all of his songs, and how he can't wait to hold you.

"I need you to come home soon, Lu. I think I'm fading again. I can't sleep. I need you."

He hears the tremor in your voice, your desolate tone, your sniffles, your slight stutter. He feels his heart break in two, knowing that he isn't there to hold you, to put you back together and smooth your skin.

"I know baby. Not long now, and I'm all yours for as long as you need, okay?"

"Okay. I'm really tired. Can you sing to me?"

And he doesn't hesitate. You swear you can hear the slight smile in his voice,

"Always."

"Never thought that you would be, standing here so close to me ,there's so much I feel that I should say, but words can wait until some other day"

His voice is sweet. His words linger in your head and your eyes drift closed.

"Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again. It's been a long, long time. Haven't felt like this, my dear since I can't remember when. It's been a long, long time"

Your heart feels warm. You know that it will not be easy. You know that the next two weeks will be hard. But you know that you will see him soon. And you know that you can live when you're with him.

"You'll never know how many dreams I've dreamed about you. Or just how empty they all seemed without you. So kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again It's been a long, long time"

#luke hemmings x reader #luke hemming imagines #luke 5sos #luke hemmings #calum hood #michael clifford #ashton irwin #5 seconds of summer #5sos #when facing the things we turn away from #wfttwtaf #5sos x reader #luke hemmings fluff #5sos imagine #5sos imgaines #5sos fan fiction #5sos fluff

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nicoline1998enilocin · 3 months

Text

Boudoir photoshoot

PAIRING | Husband!Dad!Young!Tony Stark x Wife!Mom!Pregnant!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 3K

SUMMARY | Your wedding anniversary with Tony is coming up, and because of that, you venture out and make a special present for him. After some searching, you decide to go for a boudoir photoshoot, which will make a perfect maternity shoot. When Tony opens the present, he can't believe his eyes, and the two of you never leave the house on the night of your anniversary.

RATING | Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Established relationship (husband/wife), Use of nicknames (Sunshine, Love/My Love, Babygirl, Sleepyhead), references to being sick (non-explicit)

SMUT | Dirty talk, daddy kink, breeding/pregnancy kink, lactation kink, hair pulling, oral (F receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!).

A/N | I won't lie; these two have my heart, and I am so happy to bring more of this beautiful couple to your screens! This was an absolute hoot to write, and I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading and the continuous support while writing this! You're an angel, and I'm very happy to call you my best friend! Thank you for everything you do for me and my blog. I couldn't do any of it without you, and I love you deeply 💜

EVENTS Masterlist | @fluffbruary Fluffbruary '24 | Photography Masterlist | @sweetspicybingo Sweethearts | Perfect

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | Photo: Source

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | AU Masterlist

It's a peaceful morning for you and your husband, Tony, as you spend quality time together in bed. Now that your twins, Hudson and Orion, are nine years old, you have a lot more time in the mornings to enjoy each other's attention, and you're getting a lot since you're pregnant with your third baby. Tony can't keep his eyes - or hands - off you and your belly, constantly showering you with nothing but love and praise.

You're currently straddled on Tony's lap as he's sitting with his back against the headboard, and you're wearing nothing but a pair of panties and a football jersey that spans pretty tightly over your belly, showing it off perfectly. Both yours and his hands are on it as you're feeling your son kick, making you giggle in response.

''I still can't quite believe I'm going to have another little miracle baby with you,'' Tony says with a large grin as he leans in to capture your lips, but before he can reach them, you hear a knock on the door, and your daughter Orion's soft voice through the door.

''Mommy? I'm not feeling so well,'' she says softly, and your heart breaks as you hear it. You try to gracefully climb off Tony's lap before opening the bedroom door for your daughter. She walks in and immediately wraps her arms around you, and all she wants is some time with you as you hear her soft sniffles.

''Can you tell me what's wrong, Babygirl?" you say with a concerned voice as you carefully tuck some hair behind her ear. Tony has also gotten out of bed, crouching before Orion to see what's happening with her.

''I-I feel s-sick,'' she tells you, and Tony reaches his hand up to her forehead, feeling to see if she has a fever.

''You're burning up, Babygirl; I will get you some medicine if you go into bed and cuddle with Mommy; how does that sound?'' Tony asks her, and she nods before peeling her arms away from you and grabbing your hand so you can walk her to the bed and climb in with her. When you're both comfortable and pull her close, Tony is on his way to get Orion the medicine, but not before stopping to see how Hudson's doing.

''Good morning, Sleepyhead,'' Tony says as Hudson still wakes up from the night's sleep, but a delighted smile spreads across his features as he hears his Dad. One big difference between your twins is that Hudson is a morning person, while Orion is not, making you laugh each time you think about it.

''Good morning, Daddy! Did you know Orion is feeling sick? She told me her tummy and head hurt,'' Hudson tells him enthusiastically as he sits up in bed before moving into Tony's lap, ready for his morning cuddles.

''I know, Baby Boy; she came to us not too long ago, so now she and Mommy are cuddling in the big bed! But that's why I'm here. Do you want to cuddle with Mommy and your sister? That way, you can all have a big cuddle fest while I make breakfast for all of us,'' Tony tells him, a flood of warmth and love going through him as he looks at his son, a beautiful copy of you.

''Yes, please!'' he says before bringing his teddy bear and Orion's favorite stuffed animal to your bedroom and joining you in bed so Tony can get Orion's medicine.

''Mommy! I'm here to cuddle too!'' he says enthusiastically before climbing in the bed, planting a big kiss on your cheek that has you giggling, and handing Orion her stuffed animal, which she happily accepts.

''Do you guys want to feel your little brother kicking? He's very active this morning, and I know you both enjoy it when he's busy in Mommy's tummy,'' you offer, and they both laugh as your son is kicking while Tony walks in. He takes in the sight of his beautiful wife, his twins, and the baby inside your belly, unable to hold back a few tears of happiness. His biggest dream has come true; he has the family he has always wanted.

''Can you sit up for me, Babygirl? I have your medicine that will make you feel all better soon! After that, you can have more cuddles with Mommy and Hudson,'' Tony says as he walks around the bed, giving his daughter the medicine and a big kiss on her forehead. Now, all that's left to do is wait for it to kick in as the cuddles continue.

When Tony has prepared breakfast, he decides everyone will have breakfast in bed, and not long after he brings it, all of it is gone.

''How're you feeling now, Babygirl?'' you ask Orion after she ate her breakfast, already feeling much better than when she woke up.

''I'm better now, Mommy,'' she said in a sleepy voice, and it's your cue to bring her to her bed and let her get a few more hours of sleep. Tony will be home today, so you call the school, letting them know Orion will stay home for the day. When that's all done, it's finally time to get ready, as you have an important appointment in the afternoon.

Your second wedding anniversary with your husband, Tony, is coming up in two months, and you've considered what you would give him for the past few weeks. It just so happened that not too long ago, you were having a girl's night with Natasha and Wanda when the topic of a boudoir photoshoot came up, and since then, you've been doing some research about it.

''So, as you know, Tony and I will be married for two years in a few months, and I want to give him something special. Do either of you have any ideas?'' you ask as you sit with your legs stretched out on Natasha's couch, one of your hands resting on your pregnant belly, the other holding a cup of tea.

''What about a boudoir photoshoot? I think it will look very sexy as you're posing in lingerie with that beautiful belly of yours,'' Wanda offers, and you raise a brow at her, as you've never heard of that before. Your interest is immediately piqued, though.

''Boudoir photography is a form of professional photography that is intimate, flattering the curves and beauty of a woman's body. You're dressed in beautiful lingerie, and it will be done in a bedroom setting to enhance the feeling of romance,'' Wanda tells you, and it sounds like the perfect plan.

You have found a reputable photographer by the name of Steve Rogers, who has done this type of shoot before, as well as many different ones, so you're very confident the photos will come out beautiful. You have been hunting for a stunning outfit during the shoot, ultimately finding something that has your heart beating faster as you see it, and you know Tony will love it when he sees the photos.

You have decided on an all-black lingerie set that shows off every curve of your body perfectly while allowing your tattoos to shine, as they'll be the vocal point of the shoot, along with the lingerie and your baby bump. When it's finally time to go, the nerves settle in a bit, but you don't show any of them to Tony; as far as he knows, you'll grab some lunch with Natasha, who has happily said she'll cover for you. The drive to Steve's photography studio isn't far, and you arrive about ten minutes early, giving you plenty of time to go to the toilet before the shoot. You love your son deeply, but the fact that he's constantly leaning on your bladder is something you could happily do without.

As you walk in, you nearly run into a tall man with long, blonde hair, a beard, broad shoulders, and muscles for days. You can't stop apologizing profusely as you didn't look where you were going, almost bumping into the man while looking at your phone to find out where you needed to go.

''I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to- to run into you,'' you tell him, stumbling over your words as the embarrassment rises and a bright red flush covers your cheeks and neck.

''Hey, it's okay! It happens,'' he says, and a kind smile brightens his features. That's when he sticks out a large hand, introducing himself as Steve Rogers, the photography studio owner - and the person taking your photos today. You gladly take his hand, presenting yourself as well. Something about his presence calms you down immediately, and you're suddenly pleased you ran into him, as your nerves are gone completely.

''I'll show you the way to the dressing room, and there's a robe for you to wear if it makes you more comfortable,'' he tells you, and you nod before following him, ready to get dressed into the lingerie and prepared to have the photoshoot. You have done plenty of research, so you know what to expect. It doesn't surprise you to see the professional setup in the studio, where Steve is currently prepping the camera for all the photos.

As soon as you're done, you walk into the studio, leaving the robe behind as you're very comfortable in your skin, and you would have to take it off eventually.

''Where do you want me?'' you ask, and Steve looks up at you, directing you to the middle of the room first, where there's a large bed with white sheets on it, giving it a simple look, but it'll be perfect for the shoot.

''During the shoot, you can take on any position you're comfortable in, and since we're doing half maternity shoot and half boudoir shoot, we will have some more sensual poses as well. We can start on the bed and work our way through the shoot from there; we'll have two hours to do the entire shoot so that we can take out rime,'' he tells you in his soft, calming voice, and you get ready for the shoot. About an hour and a half later, you're all done, and Steve beckons you over to look through the photos, picking out some of your favorites already.

''When is your baby due?'' Steve asks when you're looking through the photos and pointing at the ones that grab your attention. A big smile appears when you think about the little boy growing in your belly, and you happily tell him about the small baby you will have in a few months.

''If everything goes well, we will have a beautiful baby boy in January next year! This will be our third as I've already given birth to the most amazing set of twins,'' you tell him proudly, all while your hands constantly rub your belly. Once the two of you have gone through all of them, you're ready to head home, and two weeks later, the photos are done, and a beautiful album is made, which you'll pick up at Steve's studio to keep a surprise for as long as possible.

The day of your anniversary is here, and you have just put on the new maternity dress you bought for dinner tonight. You have arranged for Hudson and Orion to sleep over at Howard an Maria's house, so you would have the entire evening ready to have an amazing date night with delicious food. But first, you're trying to surprise Tony, as you're getting impatient for his reaction.

''My Love? I have a surprise for you," you tell Tony as you walk into the bedroom as you're getting a look at him with his dress shirt open and his pants low on his hips, giving you the ultimate look at every single ridge and muscle, making you clench your thighs. It's no secret you're constantly aroused when you look at him, but now that you're pregnant it is only intensified, which is something he will happily help you out with.

''Oh, more surprises? I thought that dress was already the biggest one of the night because you look fucking delicious in it, Sunshine,'' he nearly growls, and a wave of arousal flows through you, your panties getting wet at the thought of what he will do to you.

''Yeah, I had this done a while back for you, and I really couldn't wait any longer to show it to you,'' you tell him, handing him the photo album that's wrapped up in red wrapping paper, a golden bow around it to finish it off. The bow and paper are ripped off quickly before he opens it, and is greeted by all the photos of you in some of the sexiest lingerie he's ever seen you wear.

He flips through every single photo before saying anything, taking his time to enjoy every single curve you've shown, every tattoo on display, and every inch of skin exposed in the photos. All while he's getting increasingly more hard in his pants, straining painfully against his boxer briefs by the time he closes the book, his pupils completely dilated with pure lust.

You don't get much time before he has you completely naked on the bed, your thighs spread with his shoulders as his thumb is pressed against your clit, making you writhe with pleasure, his tongue dipping in and out of your entrance as he licks up every last drop of your arousal.

''Hmm, look at this perfect pussy, so tight and delicious for me,'' he groans, and you moan as he continues his earlier actions, your back arching when his arms wrap around your thigh, ensuring you're not going anywhere unless he lets you. He's taking full control of you, and you happily let him.

Broken moans and soft whines leave your lips as your hands grab his hair, pulling hard as he brings you closer to the edge with his tongue.

''D-Daddy, please! Wanna cum for you,'' you whine, and a wicked smile appears on Tony's lips as he looks at you through his lashes, speeding up with his tongue before moving back to your clit and wrapping his lips around it until you're cumming for him. The fact that you call him Daddy only spurs him on more, as he's extremely hard in his pants, his balls full of cum that he can't wait to fuck into you.

''Alright then, cum for me, Sunshine, and when you do, I'll fuck you until you're completely fucked dumb, stuffing you full of every last drop of my cum. Is that what you want? Want Daddy to breed you? Too bad you're already pregnant. Otherwise, I would have gotten you so fucking pregnant tonight!" he tells you between deep groans.

"God, you look so fucking sexy with his belly of yours, carrying our child, going to keep you pregnant forever, Sunshine, breed you so you're always nice and round for me,'' he tells you as his fingers plunge in and out of your entrance, his thumb stimulating your clit. Together with his words, you're cumming with a shout of his name, legs shaking uncontrollably as you grip the sheets to ground yourself.

Once he's worked you through your orgasm, he spreads your thighs again before sitting on his knees and lining up with your pussy, impatient to finally fuck you the way he so badly wants. When you're pregnant, you're practically insatiable, and Tony isn't one to deny you when you're so perfect for him, begging him sweetly to fuck you. With a sharp, well-aimed thrust, he slides in, hitting your sweet spot immediately as your eyes roll back into your head, moaning your name loudly.

''Look at you, Sunshine, already such a fucked out mess for Daddy, and I haven't even fucked you yet,'' he says as he sets a good pace, not too rough as he's trying to take his time. However, it's hard for him as he wants to cum inside you, but he needs one more orgasm before he will even think about himself. You will never be left unsatisfied, not on his watch.

''Such a sweet, wet pussy for me to fuck, Sunshine; we'll make such a mess when I cum for you! Gonna fuck every single drop of my cum deep into this pussy before watching it drip out of you, seeing how beautiful this pussy looks when it's leaking with my cum,'' he says through gritted teeth, his thumb quickly finding its place on your clit since he's very close to cumming.

''And these beautiful tits of yours, they're so fucking perfect, Sunshine! So full of milk for me soon. I can't fucking wait to drink from them again and lap up every single drop of your sweet milk; that's what you want, too, isn't it? To have Daddy suck on these beautiful, heavy, round tits of yours?" he asks, and you let out a broken 'yes' between the moans falling from your lips, though you're not entirely sure what you're saying yes to, the pleasure taking you over completely.

''First, you need to cum for me, Sunshine! Cum for Daddy, and I will stuff you so fucking full with my cum! My balls are so full and heavy for you, just for you, my beautiful Sunshine,'' he tells you before your orgasm washes over you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs, shortly after followed by Tony, who shoots every drop of his cum deep inside your pussy, just like he told you. When he has worked you both through your highs, he collapses next to you on the bed, all while praising how good you are for him and how perfect you are.

The rest of the night, Tony switches between giving attention to your breasts and sensitive nipples, suckling, licking, and tugging them until you're begging him to stop, and making nothing but love to you as you're celebrating your second wedding anniversary. By the time your alarm shows you it's 5 AM, you're finally being pulled into a deep, dreamless sleep as you're lying in your husband's arms, and you couldn't have wished for a better way to celebrate your love with the love of your life.

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modawg · 1 month

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major yap warning; deep dive into parecabeth (parent!percabeth)

what age were we thinking percabeth would have kids ?

to me annabeth has always been such a planner that i always thought she'd plan all that out, like on their wedding night annabeth pulls out like three binders with ages on the front '20-30's, 30's-40's' and is like "bitch you better be ready"LMAO, though i KNOW percy is DYING to have children i also know percy would def respect her decision to have kids a little later after she's settled in her career

i think i always saw them (having a girl teehee) in their early 30's and i will always stand by the at home dad percy would def be

like maybe up until their ready he works to save; working maybe at an aquarium or some other random places that work with his skills (also dependent on what he actually goes to college for) then once annabeths secure they have their first kid percy stays home and writes his books based on the stories he would tell his daughter (like rick did)

this also gives them another source of income; he prob uses a fake name (cough rick riordan cough) so he doesn't get like stalked or smth but its still nice money to have

i think they'd have a simple two, maybe two girls (teehee) and reference camp as their other kids; their kids growing up surrounded by hundreds of other demigod kids along with the kids of their friends

i once read this fanfic where annabeth designed and built the home they have kids in and i agree with that deeply i think she would get pregnant right as the house would finish up and use the rest of her pregnancy to decorate and really home it up until she gave birth

i think they would stay close to NYC to be closer to sally and paul (and prob annabeths job too) but it would be further away from the city and closer to Montauk

I think that house (and family tbh) would be the pillar for everyone else like most of the time if their friends want to see them they go there rather then the other way around

they probably have cookouts every other weekend, porch jams into the night when apollo kids come to visit, i think the house def has enough room for guests, demigods dropping by every so often for a place to stay but I also think its common curtesy to not try and pry like they don't try to get them to join they just come to shower, to get some wisdom and leave; I think having percy and annabeth as parents would cause a shift in CHB like they always do, percabeth is literally the next generation of adult greek demigods even if they aren't the first to have kids they're the first since the first war to LIVE this long, and to have a fulfilling life that they're willingly sharing with CHB and i think that would really start to give greek demigods hope pushing them more towards the future CJ has (GOD I LOVE THEM)

speaking of room; theres a guest room on the first floor with big windows and house plants that they call the g-room for green room, built for the man himself, g-man. Juniper and Grover come to visit alllllll the time (along with tyson) like its basically their second house, everyone refers to their kids as cousins and even when they grow up theres no questioning that

^ jumping back to having kids i could def see apollo blessing annabeth with an easy pregnancy, safe birth, and quick recovery; i could see percy and annabeth telling CHB and CJ just a couple days after and them pulling up to camp with a big, but quiet, celebration; big feasts and sentimental presents, i could see CHB burning shrouds like they did after their first quest all beautifully embroidered, the campfire dancing with different colors from everyones emotions

i wish we knew more about CJ traditions but i know they would have a feast too and it would be like unlocking the next level being able to explore CJ from the new lighting of parenthood; they probably have an honorary small house gifted to them so they can come and visit whenever but i feel like most friends would come to CHB for the bigger celebration first

god and don't get me started on the hunters GOD i just know thalia is BAWLINGGG and she def comes to visit all the time bc she's probably the god-mother like how grovers probably the god-father

and i know that convo was a hard one having literally everyone in the room crying when they asked

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drabblesandimagines · 9 months

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Tranquility

Joshua Rosfield x fem reader Minor spoilers, I guess? Fluffy fluff. Inspired by this request.

An exaggerated sigh comes from behind you, intent to draw your attention. You smile but continue to read, turning the page with minimal fuss.

You’ve been reading at the desk for a little while now, in the chambers the two of you have been assigned in the Hideaway. You’d be happy enough in the bunks, but Clive truly doted on his younger brother and he had organised a room formerly being used for storage to be repurposed – a bed, desk and chair quickly sourced and put in place.

Joshua is on strict bedrest under Tarja’s and Jote’s instructions. You hadn’t escaped orders either, been given a stern warning to leave Joshua in solitude– as if you’d want to delay him regaining his strength. You’d easily preoccupied yourself, having arrived at the Hideaway a few days prior with Jote and helping with various jobs. You were midway through bringing supplies in off the skiff when Clive had called your name on the pier, asking you to please go and keep Joshua company. It turns out Ifrit had found the Phoenix bent over on the staircase, coughing, a weary hand on the wall, determined to seek you out after being separated for so long.

It had been nerve-wracking to meet Clive in Tabor, Joshua’s sworn First Shield, especially with the unique courtship you and Joshua had. You weren’t betrothed or wed for that matter, but you lived as if you were, and you were sure the brothers would have so much to catch up on that Joshua might not have even had time to mention you. You’d heard so many tales of Clive over the years, knew how special the brothers were to one another and so desperately hoped to make his approval.

You shouldn’t have worried. As soon as Joshua stepped foot in the building, he’d strode directly over to you, pulling you into a deep, brief kiss, before taking you by the hand over to Clive and Jill.

Though a little surprised, Clive had been nothing but kind, considerate and welcoming in the time you’d spent with him after their return from Kanver and bout with Odin – the reason as to why Joshua was confined to his bed.

“Darling, come here.” Joshua demands, softly. “Please.”

“You, my love, are meant to be sleeping.” You chide, eyes not leaving the page.

“Resting.” He corrects. “Which I would do far better at if you were by my side. Nay, in my arms, actually.”

You look over your shoulder to roll your eyes – he’s propped himself up against the pillows, his black shirt unlaced, hair a little mussed and looking so beautiful. You realize as soon as you meet his soft blue eyes that engaging with him had been a mistake. You can never resist that face. He could tell you to walk straight into the mouth of a Morbol in his loving cadence and, by Founder, you’d do it.

No.

You must steel your resolve. He needs to rest. The colour’s only started to return to his complexion in the last day or so and you do not wish to hamper any semblance of recovery.

You try and regain your composure. “I do not wish to be at the wrong end of Tarja or Jote’s wrath when-”

“My sweet one, I beg you.”

Mothers, you can’t resist that – even if you’d downed many a tonic. You pick up your book and get to your feet, before toeing off your boots, and make the short walk over to the bed to climb in besides him. He instantly takes your free hand, pressing his lips softly against the back of it.

“Thank you.”

“Mm-hm.” You hold your tongue, not wishing to encourage him further, though you know when it comes to Joshua and his affections he needs no influence to shower you in loving words and sweet gestures. You go to return to your book, assuming he’ll rest now as you read besides him. That, however, turns out not to be his intention as he plucks the tome out of your hand with nimble fingers and places it down alongside him, just out of reach.

“Joshua…”

“It has been so long since we could just enjoy each other’s company, although I know that was at my behest. And now we are here… Well, I admire and respect Jote greatly, but to be truly alone in your company has become all too rare an occurrence.”

The Phoenix’s attendant was nothing but loyal, but sometimes her presence grew a little… suffocating, through no fault of her own. She was tasked with Joshua’s protection – his healer, his blade, his warden – and you were nowhere near skilled as her in those areas of expertise. You greatly admire her for her patience with him too – it was certainly hard to rein Joshua in at times.

“No, you are right. It has been a while.”

It felt like you’d been trekking across the continent non-stop the past while, poking around Fallen ruins, researching where you could, before he’d, reluctantly, sent you to Tabor to reside under Cyril’s watchful eye as set out to infiltrate Prince Dion’s camp to seek his aid. Your reunion in Tabor had been all too brief – he’d then sent you to the Hideaway alongside Jote to offer assistance there whilst his new party set forth to Kanver.

And Odin.

You don’t like to dwell on that – that Barnabas had split the sea with a swipe of his sword.

How easily could he have split Joshua in two?

“We should savour these moments.” He says, softly.

He draws shapes on your palm – it’s a nervous habit, you’d noted. He used to dance flames between his fingertips before he discovered this settled him just as well.

“You are thinking too much.”

“Impossible.”

Often, you would catch him standing or sitting in place, an arm across his chest, his other arm balanced upon it whilst he cups his chin, deep in contemplation. Sometimes so deep in thought, you’d resorted to peppering his face in kisses to get him to return to you.

You’re too used to this particular look, the responsibilities of the Phoenix resting too heavily on his shoulders.

“I disagree.” You place a tentative hand on his chest, hovering over that burden encased within. “Are you in pain?”

“No.” You stare at him for a moment, gauging whether it was a white lie across his tongue. His eyes seem sincere as he meets yours – he could never truly lie to you.

You scoot forward and swivel, carefully placing yourself across his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck loosely and in returns he brings you in closer.

After all this time, his cheeks still flush a little to have you pressed against him.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“You need to rest and, to do so, you must take a respite from thinking of Ultima.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you press your forehead against his before he can utter a word, and you move a hand to caress his cheek.

“And rather than exhaust yourself further chasing answers you cannot currently seek, mayhaps for now you can think of my touch and of how much I love you.” You whisper, tenderly.

“Sweet one, that thought has never once strayed from my mind - this is all because I love you. I want you to have the world.”

“I already do. You are it.” You tilt his chin up, pressing a soft, tender kiss to his lips. There’s a phantom taste of iron – too many times had you kissed your Phoenix’s bloody mouth in relief. “So, please, rest.”

He buries his head into your neck then, pressing a kiss or two to your throat, making your heartbeat quicken. “Can we stay like this?”

“Of course, love. Just close your eyes, mm?”

He nods, nuzzling in softly, the tip of his nose tickling your skin. You smile, closing your eyes, being close to him, being held like this is always so relaxing, your worries evaporating. It isn’t long before your breathing synchronizes and the two of you are slowly lulled to sleep, feeling content, safe and loved.

Clive doesn’t knock, forgetting himself, forgetting he’d sent you to sit with Joshua earlier too, and opens the door in a hurry. He has a vial of freshly brewed medicine from Tarja to deliver, but the scene before him stops him before he can voice his intentions.

Joshua is asleep, for one. He hadn’t even stirred at the sound of door opening. The Phoenix is propped up against the pillows and you are still wrapped in his arms, one hand spread flat over his heart. Joshua’s head is against the crook of your neck whilst yours lays upon his, both deep in slumber. The two of you look so peaceful.

“It’s rude to stare.” Jill jokes softly, wrapping an arm around Clive’s waist. He smiles down at her lovingly before he presses a kiss to the side of her head. How sweet it was that he and his brother had been blessed with you and Jill.

“Yes. I forgot they’d be together – I was tasked with delivering Joshua’s medicine, but…” He trails off, it goes without saying he does not wish to disturb such a tranquil scene.

“It can wait.” Jill smiles at the two of you. “Joshua has all the medicine he needs.”

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

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#ghostdogwrites #joshua rosfield x female reader #joshua rosfield x you #joshua rosfield x reader #ff16 x you #ff16 x reader #ffxvi x reader #reader requests

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wandamaxim0f · 3 months

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After the war — Fred Weasley

Words: 1.4k

Fred Weasley x Female reader

Tw: mentions of the war, character death, mentions of the battle of the department of mysteries, mentions of anxiety and fear

A/N: in all honesty, fred was my first fictional love, and no matter how many characters I love, I always come back to him. In the wise Taylor Swift words, "I drive down different roads, but they all lead back to you"

Fred grinned softly as he opened the door to the house the two of you had purchased not too long ago. The second big commitment both of you had made together, the first one being when he got down in one knee almost a year ago now. Planning the wedding was not something neither of you wanted to do just now, relaxing into the idea of growing up a bit more before walking down the aisle and making things as official as they could get. Besides, you and Fred already knew you were in it for the long run, so there was no rush whatsoever.

In fact, he was so sure you were the one for him, he wouldn’t have proposed when he did, as it felt like he was repeating himself when he told you he wanted to spend his whole life with you. But the war was getting worse, and he needed you to know he meant it when he said you were the love of his life and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He wanted you to know he meant it when he said he’d fight anyone and anything to get back to you if it came down to it.

“Freddie?” your voice called from the kitchen, and he took off his jacket before making his way to you.

There you were, already in your pajamas -an old pair of pants you had used to wear whenever you had an early quidditch training in school and a t-shirt you had stolen from him ages ago-, your still damp hair leaving a humid patch on the back of your tee. Your back was to the door, focused on preparing the ingredients for dinner. Turning your head now, you smiled at your fiance and his lovesick gaze.

“Hi!” you greeted, clearly happy and a smile broke into his face at the sound of your voice “How was work today?”

“It was good, a bit slow, but good” he replied, walking over you, his arms going around your waist as he dipped down his head to kiss the spot between your neck and shoulder “Kids are already at Hogwarts, so my guess is it should stay that way for another two weeks, maybe. What are you making?”

“Read about a new recipe today, carbonara. Thought we’d give it a try”

“Sounds good to me. Gonna go and take a quick shower now, baby” he added, his hands drawing circles on your stomach “Care to join?”

You laughed, leaning against him and looking up at the redhead boy, before he kissed you softly. “It won’t be a quick shower if I join you, and we’re having pasta tonight. It shouldn’t take too long for the water to boil”

Fred clicked his tongue, disappointed “Later?” he asked, kissing you again.

“Definetly. I love you” you added, and he smiled at you, so adoringly you almost melted between his strong arms.

“I love you too, forever. Can’t wait to live my whole life with you, baby” and after another kiss, he went upstairs.

He was so happy, and so in love with you. You had been the light of his life for ten years now, ever since he met you that first day of school, on your way to Hogwarts. You were always laughing at him or his jokes and pranks, and you were his biggest supporter, always ready to help him or hear him out whenever he was late with an assignment, or when he wasn’t on top of his game at a quidditch match. Eventually, as years went by, you became his biggest source of comfort under the lame excuse of friendship, and it would be normal to find the two of you tangled with each other in the common room, especially after He Who Can’t Be Named came back, your hand always toying with his hair in a way it turned him putty in your hands. Through thick and thin, you had been his rock, and he had been yours.

When George and him left during Umbridge’s reign of terror, your heart broke into a million pieces, and you had to admit to yourself it wasn’t because you’d miss them, which you would, of course, but because the idea of being at Hogwarts without Fred felt outright wrong, and those last months of school were plain torture. Exacerbated, of course, by the actual torture you had endured at the Department of Mysteries.

Fred remembered that morning clearly. He had been woken up by his mother’s scream, which had him appearing downstairs within a second, and he remembered the bile coming up his throat when she told them Ron and Ginny had been involved in a battle, and Sirius Black had been murdered by his own cousin. But nothing prepared him for when George asked who else had gone to the Ministry, and your name came out his mother’s mouth.

“What?!” he asked, his hands leaning against the couch to support his weight “How is she?”

“They’re alright, said Dumbledore, tired, and sore from torture, but they’re alright” she explained “Tonks will have to stay some days at St. Mungo’s, but she’ll be okay soon”

“T– torture?”

George’s hand squeezed his shoulder, in a sign of silent support. He was worried too, for his siblings, for Hermione and Harry, but also for you. You were one of his favorite people, and he knew how much you meant to Fred even if he hadn’t said anything. He knew his twin, and knew his heart skipped a beat whenever he saw you.

“She’ll be alright” he told him.

He knew that. You were tough, and brave, and determined; qualities he never paid much attention to, finding your kindness, patience and charisma more interesting; but he felt as if he had failed you. He had promised you almost a full year ago, the night after Voldemort’s return and Cedric’s murder that he’d keep you safe, and he hadn’t kept his word. You had gone into battle, and you had gotten tortured of all things. He felt sick, the need to take you away from home and keep you from participating anymore in the war being stronger by the second. But you wouldn’t like that. You would want to fight, and he’d be damned if he lost you. He couldn’t.

Molly thought his cry was because of his younger siblings, but George knew better. Sure, Fred was worried about Ron and Ginny, but it was you who had him hyperventilating at the idea of losing you, because the idea of living life without you felt like torture.

Three weeks later, he had found himself at your doorstep, hoping to convince you to stay with them, at least until your parents got back from their holiday in Italy. Or forever. Maybe you felt the same way, maybe you loved him back, maybe you loved him more than you loved any of your friends.

And you did, to no one’s surprise but his.

So, now here he was, fresh out of the shower, in the house the two of you had bought, and as he went downstairs, he found you at the table, with the dinner ready, and his heart skipped a beat once more. Remembering the panic that had nestled in his chest during the war, how many times he had stayed awake at night, not being able to sleep, afraid he’d lose you, afraid they’d take you from him; his arms tense around your body while he prayed he wouldn’t fail you again. And now, the war was finally behind all of you, and you were safe.

“How was the shower?”

“Would’ve been better if you had joined me” he replied, leaning in to kiss the top of her head. You hit him playfully in the arm.

After dinner, he smiled softly at you, and grabbed your hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. His eyes hadn’t left you at all as you ate, too mesmerized by how beautiful you were, and how happy he was with you, how happy you made him, and the way it felt his heart was way too big for his chest whenever he thought of you.

“I love you” he whispered, not being his bubbly, extroverted self, and you let him speak “I love you so, so much, my sweet girl”

You smiled softly, and held his hand back.

“I love you too, honey. So much. Forever”

Fred got up and took his wand out, letting magic take care of the dishes and pulled you into his embrace.

“Let’s go to bed, love”

#fred weasley #harry potter #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x reader #hogwarts

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stalkerofthegods · 4 months

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Lord Morpheus/Somnina deep dive info

Herbs • Poppy, Poppy trees, poppy seeds, ivory, Dandelion seed, Chamomile, mugwort, lavender, jasmine, passionflower, basil

Animals• Bats, Nocturnal animals, Cats, Fireflies, Moths, Butterfly, Racoons, Wolves, Crows, Halcyon birds, sheep “counting sheep” (my personal thinking)

Zodiac • None, I couldn't find any evidence, perhaps Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, or Pisces because they were born in the winter.

Colors • Black, Blue, Gold, Purple, Silver, Red, some folks like associating neon colors and grey. I also think white.

Crystal• Amethyst, Herkimer Diamond, Scolecite, Hematite, Lapis Lazuli, and gemstones associated with dream magick

Symbols• Horns (he passes through a horn gate each night), Portals, gates, feathers, wings, skeleton keys, stars, night, ivory, tea, baths, sweet coffee

wear in their honor • sleep masks, PJs, slippers.

Diety of• of dreams, of sleep

Patron of• from/shape (his name translates to that, and shapeshifts in dreams.), messages to the unconscious, prophecies to the unconscious, influencing people unconsciously, hypnotizing, dreaming about the future, daydreaming, dream jobs, human shapes, hallucinations of humans, meditation, desire, hope, insomnia, opium-based medication, lucid dreaming, imagination, schizophrenia or schizophrenia-like disorders or illnesses, creativity, astral travel, encouragement, communication, divination

Element• Water, air

Offerings• Honey, honey cake, wine, fish and incense, Melatonin, Sleep-related gemstones and crystals, Skulls, Dream Catchers (ethnically obtained), Any type of stress reliever, and sleep indulgent tea, Ivory and/or Horn items, Sleep-related spells,

The imagery of his associated animals, Feathers, demon imagery(?), imagery of his animals, offerings of things like moths, butterflies, skulls, and feathers (ethically sourced), melatonin gummies, skeleton keys, Dream Pillows (herbal satchels filled with lavender to place under your pillow for better sleep)

Devotional• Track your dreams on a calendar, Keep a dream journal, Get enough sleep, Turn off your electronics 1 hour before bed (gets you in deeper sleep faster), Perform a night ritual, Learn about lucid dreaming and practice it, Write a letter to Morpheus before going to bed, Prayers related to Morpheus, Prophetic inducing herbs, Creating a playlist for him with songs that help you sleep, drink mugwort or chamomile tea before bed, set and try to stick to a night routine, write letters or jokes to him, write stories/a book, wear or dress your bed in his associated color, keep crystals for him on your bed or bedside table, have a bath or shower before bed, speak to him before you sleep, go to a sleepover to his honor, washing your bed sheets, cleaning up ur bed, try making your own melatonin, practice divination, try controlling ur dreams

Ephithets• Μορφευς, Morpheus, Shaper of Dreams, Sandman, Mildest of the Gods, Balm of the Soul, Oneiros, Kai’Ckul, Lord L’Zoril, Shaper of Forms, Lord Shaper, Prince of Stories (The Sandman, Neil Gaiman), Dream Giver, Sleep’s Guest, Lord Shaper, Father of Dreams, Lord of the Night, He Who Tells Mortals Stories, Formshaper, Shadowmaker

Equivalents• Niorun (Norse), Angus (Celtic), Caer (Celtic), Bes (Egypt), Tutu (Egypt), Morpheus (Greek), Somnina (Norse).

Signs their reaching out• Sudden floating in dreams, better dreams, sleeping better, seeing him in dreams.

Vows/omans• Perhaps wedding vows.

Number• 1, 6, 7

Morals• Morally lawfully neutral follows the gods' bidding.

Courting• no one, but is seen as Iris's husband in some literature,

Past lovers/crushes• I couldn't find any, I think he is Ace? But that is not anyone's business. He is ‘said’ to date Iris because of always being togetherer

Personality• Morpheus is a very chill and comprehensive God. He’s understanding and he’s happy to help out if he can. He doesn’t ask for much when you worship him, as long as you’re making an effort he’s fine.

Home• Erebus, in the Underworld

Mortal or immortal • Immortal

Fact• Some say they were able to “heal”,

Curses• Insomnia, your dream of the ‘good future’ being wrong, your hopes and dreams crashing down, no dreams (If u like your dreams), feeling anger towards you in dreams and just in general. Your baby wakes up with a nightmare. The back/neck problems you wake up with.

Blessings• Good sleep, having good dreams, and your children going to sleep.

Roots• Ancient Greece, born probably in Tarturas

Friends• Iris, Zeus, Hermes, Hera, messengers in general.

Parentage• Pasithea and Hypnos, some say he came from Hypnos asexually, some say from Nyx asexually, I think Nyx.

Siblings• Oneiroi, Icelus, Phobetor, Phantasus

Pet• None.

Children • None

Appearance in astral or gen• often depicted with wings, he changes into whatever shape is needed at a given moment, decided as a young man in art, and has one ear with wing and one to hear with. He looks like he has short hair.

Festivals • I couldn't find any, I would say hibernation month, and just celebrate being able to sleep when animals are hibernating.

Season • winter

Day • I would say Saturday because I get the most sleep on Saturday, no school, and no worries, I couldn't find a historic one, or just make a day for him, many people do that for minor gods.

Status• Greek Minor god/personification, a part of the Oneiroi, and the leader of the Oneiroi. plays a major role in day-to-day life. He is a Cthonic deity

What angers them • Insulting them,

Music they like• I would think Sleep Music, Sleep Asmr

What they like • sleep.

What they dislike• I would say physical touch since he disappears all the sudden when he is almost being touched, I think he only touches those he ‘is okay with’ as a sign of trust or adornment because I heard a person back then say they use to get tapped by them

Planet• Moon (phase new)

Tarot cards• The Four of Swords and the Tower, message card (based on sleep and messages, each their own.)

Reminds me of• sleep, the good resting kind of sleep

In my opinion • they are pretty rad, and strangely I've been having shit sleep, ain't he just a sweetheart.

Scents/Inscene • Opium, Lavender, Jasmine, Chamomile, Sandalwood, and any other calming scents

Prayers•

Ever-shifting Morpheus, lord of the Oneiroi who bring us our dreams, true or false. Morpheus, swift-soaring courier, twilight messenger of the gods, kind one, dweller in the shadowed land of dreams, dark-winged god who shapes the visions of the night, who tells the tales that must be told, who strips us bare of secrets, who clothes hard truths in subtle raiment, child of the black night, child of the shrouded dark, in the realm of illusion you are king. Morpheus, harbinger of change, concealer of clues, you bury bits of truth among our wishes and fancies; with your aid can we see into the mist of the unknown, with your aid can we find the hidden pieces of the self. Morpheus, I praise and honor you.

With a whisper I call you, o Morpheus, lord of dreams, greatest amongst the Oneiroi. I call to you as Hypnos draws near.

Phantasos, ancient messenger who crafts wonder into form who conjures in our minds a tapestry otherworldly. Greatest molder and master of lights, many-shaped, you cross the night and take on any face or voice any hue or sound you so desire. I ask you, my lord: shield me from pain and fear in my dreams, let no anguish burden my heart as I sleep. This only I request: that within your great creations I may rest and through your hand I may find safe haven. That my words may reach you, o Morpheus whispered though they may be as Hypnos draws near.

Links/websites/sources •https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morpheus

https://www.thecollector.com/morpheus-greek-god/https://www.britannica.com/topic/Morpheus-Greek-mythology https://www.britannica.com/topic/Hypnos https://despena.gr/morpheus-the-ancient-greek-god-of-dreams/https://kreweofmorpheus.clubexpress.com/content.aspx?page_id=22&club_id=174762&module_id=305302 https://www.ancient-origins.net/myths-legends-europe/morpheus-greek-god-dreams-who-delivered-messages-gods-mortal-world-002318#google_vignette How Ancient Egyptians Interpreted Dreams - UnEarthed Penn Dream Angus: The Celtic God of Dreams (The Myths) - Amazon.comAmazon.com Caer Ibormeith - Thoughts on PapyrusThoughts on Papyrus Who is Niorun? - Northern Tradition Paganismhttps://greekpagan.com/tag/morpheus/

HUGE HELP FROM

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roo-bastmoon · 7 months

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Amazing!!

Back before I got sick, when I was much more fit and spry, I used to quilt. I got pretty okay at it, enough to make complex quilts as gifts for baby showers and weddings and such. It is *time intensive* work and often destroys a person's back (even if you have a proper sewing table, which I didn't).

So this is amazing to me:

This person, whoever they are--I just met them today, they seem pretty cool--took the time to print album covers on cotton and sew this. It's a work in progress; they haven't put in the batting or bound the back yet. But already it's impressive. I hope they post the finished product to WeVerse and tags the boys. Anyone who has ever done crafting knows how incredibly special this is. I'm in awe.

(For some reason, Tumblr isn't previewing tweets or videos when I try to link to them, so here is the original source: BerryBerryBangtan. The handle is @Miss_Mochi_72)

I just need you all to know, as a fellow quilter, this is what it's like inside my mind right now:

#bts quilt #bts #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon junkook

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i-prefer-west-side · 8 months

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Source

SLOW DANCING IN THE LIVING ROOM Season 7

"It isn't funny, Castle," Kate snaps, kicking her shoes off and throwing her coat over the back of the couch. She continues to strip on her way to the bedroom, and Rick bites back a suggestive comment as he follows.

Having a bucket of well-done compost thrown on her as she tried to serve an arrest warrant had capped off an already bad day, and the last thing she needs is for him to poke at her more, especially after he accidentally snickered when she tripped getting out of the elevator.

She goes straight into the bathroom, dropping her soiled clothes in the tub and stepping into the shower.

He can't make out what she's muttering as she stands under the spray, so he gathers her clothes to put in a garbage bag. He'll work on them later, try to get out at least the worst smell and stains so he doesn't accidentally kill the dry cleaner. He calls in a delivery from Kate's favorite restaurant, and by the time she emerges wearing leggings and an old t-shirt of his, her damp hair curling around her shoulders, he's dishing it up with a very strong drink.

They eat on the couch, her feet tucked under his thigh, and when they're both done, he takes their empty plates and deposits them in the sink before returning to the living room.

"Mrs. Castle," he says, holding out his hand, "may I have this dance?"

Kate narrows her eyes, but he notices a smirk tugging at her lips. Between the food and the scotch, she's in a remarkably better mood. "Really? Dance?" she teases.

He just looks pointedly at his hand, and her smirk turns into a full-fledged grin when she takes it and lets him tug her into his arms. He grabs his phone from the side table and turns on music, switches it to come from the surround sound as she loops her free arm around his back.

He squeezes her hand, brushes a kiss to her temple as he starts to sway them to the gentle sound of their wedding song. "Better?" he murmurs in her ear.

She leans back just far enough so she can look in his eyes. "Perfect," she whispers, lifting her mouth to his.

#castle fanfic #fluffy friday #season 7

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hiddenwritingsintheworld · 1 month

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Cruel Summer Ch. 5

Donations | Thoughts & Feelings | Cruel Summer Series | Chapter 4

(Thank you all so much for being patient as I worked through personal issues!! I'm trying to write and get new chapters out for you guys. I'm still dealing with personal issues but for now, I'll push through, thank you all so much for always sending kind supportive messages. Love you guys! Enjoy!

P.S. you can find clues about future chapters if you read through the tags ;) )

-Chapter 5-

You stared at him before giggling, “Funny Chris, you know….. about us…now that we’re…ya know…gonna be public and all that.” you smiled as he chuckled. “Baby…you know we could never be public…I can't ditch the perfect, good girl next door, to go out with an old co star…besides, we’d never work out publicly, we're better this way. Private, just you and me, locked away in a bedroom somewhere.” he leaned in to kiss you again, but you pulled back feeling bile rise in your throat. “You never planned on leaving her for me…did you?” you asked, staring at the bed. “Babygirl,” he walked around the bed to sit by you on your side of the bed.

He pulled your chin up kissing your lips before you pulled back, he only had a moment to see your eyes before you slapped him as hard as you could. “Get out. Get the fuck out!” you glared at him before you moved quickly off the other side of the bed. “Sweethear-” “FUCK YOU!” you screamed. “GET OUT!!” you grabbed his clothes throwing them at him, he ducked as his shoes flew at his head.

The door busted open, your security guards and Megan stood there. “Oh Y/N…” She said softly as Chris stood up after sliding his jeans on. “Y/N! Baby come on! Knock it off, let's talk about this!” he snapped back at you. You raced off into the bathroom, locking the door as the tears fell. You started the shower, a sob leaving your lips as you slid down to the floor crying.

A few weeks later

“And in other news mega worldwide Popstar Y/N, has deleted all posts from her social media. Sources say, She’s “Blacking out any and all communication on tour, and while she loves sharing her life with her fans, touring has taken a toll on her, she’ll return eventually, but for now. She’s got to focus on herself.” wow, so no more thank you posts to all her concert goers? That’s gonna feel like a slap to the face.” the news reporter stated as her co-star started in on you and your reputation. You sat by the window staring out over the city, thankful that no one could see you all the way up here. “Turn it off.” you grumbled out, “You know it's interesting, one former Avenger star announces his wedding date with pictures of his fiance’ the same time another former Avenger star blacks out her social media? I smell drama!” he chuckled as she gasped.

“I don’t need to hear how Lacey and Simon think I’m some big fuck up for not wanting to be on social media right now.” you said getting up and grabbing your phone. “I’m going down to the gym, maybe running will clear my head.” you said matter of factly before grabbing your headphones. “Maybe you shouldn’t go alone?” Megan asked as she stood up. Your phone had been blowing up from friends and family checking in on you, wondering why you’d gone radio silent.

You felt your phone go off as you exited your room and felt the corners of your mouth turn up for the first time in what felt like forever.

Hemsworthy: ‘This place is super boring without you here.’

Y/N: ‘Tell me about it. I wish you were here. Life fucking sucks right now.’

Hemsworthy: ‘Heard you went black out on socials….you doin okay?

Y/N: ‘Yep…got a lot going on & I don’t want to see anything online…just, want to focus back on friends and myself for a while…’

You sighed as you sent the message, heading into the gym where you began to walk on the treadmill. You thought back over all your time with Chris lately, before he left for South America. The movie nights eating ice cream, playing new songs for him, talking him through his depression when it came to the divorce. You felt tears in your eyes, how could you have been so fucking stupid.

Were you this desperate to fall in love and be with someone? You’d mistook your friendship with Chris, the things that friends did, as romantic interest and felt yourself developing feelings for him. He was just recently divorced…why would he even think about dating anyone; you needed serious help.

Hemsworthy: ‘You know if you keep running on the treadmill, you’re gonna burn holes in those tennis shoes missy. :P’

You glanced at the message before you did a double take; you didn’t remember telling him you were going to work out to clear your head. “If I have to stand back here any longer I’m gonna go insane.” his thick Australian accent startled you, causing you to whip around as you pulled your headphones off. “Oh my god!” you dashed over to him jumping into his arms as he laughed and hugged you tight. “I missed you popstar,” he mumbled in your ear as you buried your face into his hoodie, breathing in his scent. “I missed you too,” you whispered against his shoulder.

You jumped down smiling up at him, “Let’s go order some room service and catch up,” he chuckled and cleared his throat, “Uh…I wanted to see if you wanted to go to dinner tonight, with me?” he smiled softly. “Somewhere nice?” he asked as you grinned and nodded, “yeah! That sounds fun!” you said as you both walked to the Elevators. “I have this super cute outfit I’ve been wanting to wear anyways!” you grinned as he chuckled. “I’m sure you’re going to look as beautiful as you always do,” Chris smiled at you, his eyes twinkled softly as you talked about your upcoming show, which was a couple of nights away and Chris was thrilled he was going to attend it.

When he was touring with you, he would stay back at the hotel, usually cooking a meal for the two of you and picking out a couple of movies for you guys to watch and relax after your shows. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go to your shows, it was just easier to avoid the press. After the divorce, anytime they had the opportunity to print something about him or his ex wife, they jumped on it.

Once you guys made it back up to the hotel suite, you got ready for the evening, excited to have a nice dinner with someone who didn’t give a shit how famous you were, or what was happening in your life. You looked in the mirror and smiled at the black sequinned dress, which looked like a night sky, with clouds and a half moon on it. You wore strappy black heels and a fur jacket; and paired it with a silver flashy purse with a diamond studded necklace.

Chris grinned as he saw you come from your bedroom, “Whoa…you look…..incredible,” he held his hand out spinning you around as you giggled softly, “Thank you. My friend Kayleigh had this made for me, and I hadn't found the right occasion to wear it yet, but thought tonight was perfect.” you smiled as he smiled tenderly at you. “Well it’s perfect, come, I’ve made reservations for us.” he chuckled as you giggled excitedly. “Yay! It’s going to be so nice just…going to dinner and relaxing,” you said as you both headed to the car.

Pulling up to your favorite restaurant you sighed softly, the paparazzi were covering the street and you looked at Chris. “I’m sorry…I know you want to avoid them, I can go first…maybe see if they have a back entrance you can come through?” you said as he reached over and grabbed your hand, smiling softly. “I think I can manage a few photos with a beautiful girl before we go to dinner.”

The way he smiled at you, something felt different, you were starting to convince yourself that it was all in your head, but a small part of you wanted him to be into you. You knew you were developing feelings for him. “Y/N! Over here! Over here!” several voices shouted at you as you climbed out of the SUV and made your way around to the sidewalk. You smiled, waved at them, clearly not showing annoyance that you held toward them sometimes and even asked a few of them how they were doing this evening.

You stopped and posed for a couple of photos, when the other door opened and Chris got out smiling and waving at them for a moment before he put his hand on the small of your back as he walked with you to the door. The camera clicks intensified as he placed his hand on your back and you could hear them shouting more questions as you walked in together.

Tag List:

@notebooks-of-nonsense @fdl305 @bval-1 @calimoi @syntheticavenger @mrsjenniferwinchester @chaneajoyyy @mommad @ellen-reincarnated1967 @adriellej @coffeebooksandfandom @patzammit @posiemax @auriel187 @ladybug05 @stoneyggirl2 @fallenoutofrose @mrspeacem1nusone @teamfreewill-imagine @inlovewith3 @auvisanspeur @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @leaveitbythewave @sleutherclaw @sandlee44 @aaqua-tofana @nohumanswereharmed @msgrandma49 @traceyaudette @cevansbaby-dove

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achaotichuman · 3 months

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A Field Of Dahlias

Notes:

Finally free of the Mountain and Amarantha's grip on the people. The Spring Court is scrambling to get back to normal. With their wedding not far away, Tamlin is struggling to keep his Court from falling into disarray. When he starts to get sick things begin to take a turn for the worse and worser.

When Feyre is taken by the Lord of Night, it doesn't look like anything it can get any worse. With his life experience Tamlin should know that things can always get worse.

Request- Do you think you could write about dahlia in this context: https://www.tumblr.com/praetorqueenreyna/737196004108058624?source=share, hopefully featuring deadbeat at first mom feyre, horrified stepdad rhysand, tired of it all tamlin and a supportive lucien/eris.

Anyway here is this little fic. Also here is part 1, part 2, and part 3 if you missed 'em. You can also read this on Squidgeworld, or AO3.

Also! I am now realizing I have strayed entirely from what the original prompt was, which was basically the exact same events of Acomaf and Acowar just with the added inclusion of Tamlin being pregnant with Feyre's kid. Buuuut this is my story and I shall do as I please.

Plus if I rewrote the entirety of the Acomaf and Acowar books this would be unnecessarily long and I would lose all interest, so in an effort to keep things fun I have pretty much scraped the entire plot of Acowar and made it my own.

I think my ideas are more fun anyway. But when I tell you this plot is was deeper than I meant it to be, I mean it.

Anyway enjoy!

Tag- @sonics-atelier (Anyone who wants to be on the tag list, feel free to ask me!)

____________________________________________________

The next few days passed, each seeming longer than the rest. Meetings with Hybern that lasted hours, and keeping the mask glued to her face.

Lucien often found his way to the former human, snarking with him in the corner, sharpening his tongue and finding every way to irk the General.

Though it seemed Jurian entertained his game with insane eyes and a twisted grin. Lucien met it with skilled words and smart replies. Watching them dance around each other as they practically sized the other up was entertaining in it’s own way, Tamlin supposed.

Tamlin found herself coming into contact with the woman in robes more often than she liked.

Lady Amber, with her cunning mouth and smart eyes, she was a threat. A cruel snake in tall grass. Always lurking around the corners in the shadows. Watching with slanted eyes, everytime she opened her mouth Tamlin expected to see a forked tongue.

After a meeting, Lucien remained engaged with Jurian in whatever talk they had found. Jurian watched him with a cocked head and eyes that barely blinked. He looked as though he had lost it.

Tamlin slipped away from the meeting. A murmured goodbye to the Lords and an apology that she would not stay later. Hybern had brushed her off as he spoke to another Lord, and Tamlin was too tired to snap for a response.

Passing through the cold hallways, she kept her eyes ahead, watching the crawling shadows. A chill ran down over her skin, showering her in goosebumps.

As she walked over wooden floors. Dark green dress whispering around her ankles, she almost wished she had just grabbed Lucien, or someone to escort her.

She hated this place. Hated every room, every reminder of the woman who had made her life hell for so long.

But that would be stupid, she knew her way back to her room, and didn’t need someone to hold her hand.

But as she turned a corner, Tamlin nearly jumped.

Lady Amber stared at him, with her cruel icy eyes. Tamlin took a quick step back, one hand subconsciously going to her womb, the other falling to her thigh, where a concealed dagger laid.

“Lady Amber, I didn’t expect to see you.” Tamlin told her.

“Just taking a breath of fresh air.” She smiled. Even her voice sent chills down her spine.

“I see,” Tamlin replied, “Well, you enjoy yourself, I must be getting to my rooms.”

But as she went to walk past her, Lady Amber chimed, “Leaving so soon? Come Lady, we have barely spoken these past few days.”

Tamlin swallowed and said, “Well, we have been quite busy.”

She went to step away again, but Lady Amber moved smoothly to block her way to her rooms.

Shit.

Tamlin breathed a tad quicker than she needed to, and Amber noted that she cocked her head, a serpent's smile on her face, “Well, neither of us are busy now. Please, let us talk.”

Tamlin swallowed, another action she noted, shit, “About?”

“How far are you along?” Amber asked, tilting her head to the other side slowly.

She considered not answering, but ended up replying, “Five months.”

“Halfway then,” She murmured.

The world seemed to darken, Tamlin took a step back, feeling like something was pressing in around her lungs. Constricting her breathing, “Yes.”

“That is very interesting, and the father, or mother, is the Cursebreaker? Right?” She took another step forward.

“Yes.” Tamlin let the agitation shine in her voice, “Now, if that is all you have to ask, I will be on my way-”

“Oh but darling, I have more questions,” She said, reaching out a hand, her sleeve pulled back to reveal a bracelet of emerald. Her fingers brushed Tamlin’s arms, and she reeled back.

“Please do not touch me.” She insisted.

“Oh I apologise, my dear, but please do answer all my questions.” She prowled closer and Tamlin felt like prey caught in a hunting trap.

“I can answer any more questions in the meeting tonight.” Tamlin said, “Now please, I will be going.”

She pushed past Amber and headed in the direction of her room, wanting to sprint, to run, to go, go, go-

Amber grabbed her arm with such a force, bruises would surely be left.

Tamlin screamed, but a palm was slapped over her mouth.

She tried to summon claws, her magic fought to the surface. Screaming and crying as it raced to protect its favoured son.

But Tamlin cried out again as her magic slammed into a wall, preventing it from escaping. It shoved and pushed, and screamed and it felt like he was exploding under her skin.

Her eyes had screwed shut but when she opened them she saw the bracelet on Amber’s wrist glowing golden.

“My daughter has told me much about you, Spring Lord. And the power this child could have.” She whispered cruelly.

Tamlin struggled against her arms, but Amber was deceptively strong. And she was feeling weaker and weaker.

She laughed, “Emeralds hold much power from my family. Ours are enchanted, my dear.”

Tamlin tried to scream, tried to run, but Amber pulled her closer.

“The birth of your child will fuel the magic of Spring for centuries to come. To harvest that energy,” Amber's hand slipped down to take away the dagger from Tamlin’s thigh, “We would be unstoppable.”

No.

No, no, no, no.

She laughed, and that dagger began to slide over whatever bare skin she could find, “Even your blood holds power, it sings-”

“Amber!” A voice shouted.

Tamlin cried with relief as Amber quickly threw her to the floor. Barely catching herself on her knees.

Shit.

Dear Gods-

Looking up, Tamlin saw a familiar face.

Jurian was leaning against the wall. Eyes wide, mouth curled into a grin, face twisted with insanity. Tamlin couldn’t exactly blame him if he had lost himself, afterall he had been an eye ring not just a few months back.

“Jurian.” Amber said smoothly, “To what do we owe your company?”

She didn’t keep the sneer out of her voice. The man flicked his eyes between Tamlin and her, tilting his head to the side, looking like a cunning cat.

“The King has sent for you two.”

Amber straightened at that. Eyes glancing down to Tamlin. Burning with such an intensity Tamlin heard the words she spoke, ‘Don’t tell him a thing that happened here.’

As if the King of Hybern would care if she had been trying to kill her.

“And why would that be, Jurian?” Amber asked bluntly.

His grin twisted into something insane once more, “Why the delightful Cursebreaker has come.”

She was going to be sick. She was going to be sick all over the floors, or pass out, or a combination of the two. Tamlin raced to stand beside Jurian, and Amber maintained a leisurely pace behind them.

Her heart was thundering against her ribcage. Desperately wanting to run. To hide, to leave immediately. But there was nothing to be done. A predator at her back and an insane man at her side, there was no telling what either of them could, or would, do.

They went through the dark tunnels, and then finally, they were opening the large, heavy doors to the throne room.

Amber then strutted ahead and Tamlin sighed with relief as she was finally in front of her and not leering behind.

Hybern sat upon the massive, black carved throne. Soldiers flanking at every side. Many hidden in shadows, waiting and watching. Lucien was standing near to the throne but when he laid eyes on Tamlin, he ran to her.

“Tamlin are you-” Lucien blinked as he saw the sheer panic in her eyes, “Tamlin what happened?”

“We have to get out of here.” She whispered quickly.

“Dear Gods, the Night Court-” Lucien cupped her face.

“Lord and Lady of Spring, come forward.” Hybern barked.

Lucien looked over his shoulder and quickly took Tamlin’s hand leading her up to stand beside the throne.

Leaning in, he whispered, “Keep up the mask a little longer Tam, we’ll get out of here.”

Dear Cauldron and Mother.

The room was large, the ceiling looming far overtop of her. The throne she stood beside, was the same one she had seen her father kneel before. Seen Amarantha kneel before.

Now she stood there. Below the same King that had allowed his General to take over Prythian.

From the shadows of the throne room, she saw blue eyes glaring, and a cruel smile. Amber watched from where she could not be seen. Emerald bracelet gleaming in the minimal light.

Shit, shit, shit.

She was being hunted. Prey in a trap. Prey in a trap. Prey in a trap.

Lucien’s eyes followed her. Finding the glowing sky blue in the shadows. He looked back at Tamlin, opening his mouth to ask, or to accuse Amber. But he was cut short when the doors slammed open.

And writhing, kicking and screaming, was Rhysand and Feyre Archeron.

Her blood turned to ice.

She was dressed fully in Night Court uniform. Face twisted in hatred and anger. Eyes glowing with a storm.

Lucien stepped out in front of Tamlin, half hiding her from sight. Just enough that Feyre would only be able to make out half of Tamlin’s face and blonde hair.

“Welcome Night Court, to the Kingdom of Hybern.” Dae drawled from his throne.

“You.” Feyre hissed with such venom Tamlin nearly flinched.

“King of Hybern.” Rhysand murmured. His voice reverberated with power, even if he was held back by guards.

Three others came into view, and Tamlin’s eyes went wide at the Night Court entourage. Two Illyrian warriors, and a blonde-headed female with wide brown eyes. All their faces pulled back into snarls. All their eyes found the King of Hybern.

Feyre however was staring right at Tamlin and Lucien. She screamed something that Tamlin couldn’t make out.

“What an interesting group,” Dae said. Dragging a finger up the arm of his throne, “So you’re the great Cursebreaker? Finally a face to put to the name.”

“Release us!” Feyre screamed at him.

“Now, I cannot do that so soon, Feyre.” Dae said, “Why, you just got here. After trying to steal away with my little prize no less.”

Little prize…

“We’ll return to our Court.” Rhysand offered. “And give you no more trouble.”

Liar, as always. His ploy was as clear as crystal water, yet there was something nearly trusting in it.

Daemati magic, he was attempting to coax the King into releasing them.

Dae just laughed at his attempt, “Then I wouldn’t be fulfilling my part of the bargain.”

“Bargain?” The blonde haired female questioned.

Dae then gestured to the Spring lords beside him, “Why my bargain with Spring of course. I help to return their missing fawn, and I will have their loyalties in the War soon to come.”

“You bargained with them.” Feyre breathed, her spiteful face nearly blank for a moment. Before it curdled into undying rage, “You bargained to steal me back!”

“Feyre.” Tamlin breathed.

“How fucking dare you!” She screamed, voice raw and powerful. Echoing through the room.

That was the mother of her child. His child. Tamlin looked between Hybern and Feyre. Hybern who smiled so coldly down at her. Eyes narrowed and cruel. Feyre’s mouth was pulled back into a snarl as she pulled and kicked against the guards holding her down. Like if she was free she would run at the King, or Tamlin. Lucien seemed to sense that as he subconsciously held out an arm. Keeping Tamlin locked behind him.

Rhysand’s violet eyes jumped around the room. Locking into everyone. Taking into account every piece on the playing field.

Tamlin sucked in a breath, grazing Lucien’s arm with his fingers, “Feyre, we are saving you from him-”

“How dare you decide what is good for me!” She cut him off with a shout, “You have no right.”

“Feyre.” He felt the High lord’s power seeping into his voice, and begged it to stay at bay. For now.

“You will not take my mate back there.” Rhysand snarled, violet eyes glowing with barely concealed power.

The day outside felt like it got a little colder. And Tamlin's eyes went wide as his heart pounded against his ribcage. Mask slipping away as anger took hold of him. Burning inside his flesh, face heating up, bones tightening in his skin. He wanted to shift claws and fur and teeth and lash at Rhysand, but a hand reaching over to brush the back of his hand halted every action. Lucien’s eyes were set on the Night Court, but Tamlin could hear the unspoken words.

‘Just a little longer.’

Hold out, keep the beast at bay, just a little while longer.

So Tamlin straightened his back. Summoning the face of the High lord of Spring, he felt the cruel cold mask of his father slip away as he faced Rhysand with all the raw, unfiltered hatred he held for him, “I do not care if she is your mate, I do not care if you think you have a right to lay claim to her. She is mine and she is coming home with me.”

Tamlin remembered his mother’s face when his father laid claim to her time and time again. He remembered the tragic story of the former Lady Spring, how she had been taken by his father and claimed without consent, all for the crime of being his mate.

Tamlin wouldn’t let that happen to Feyre.

Never would he ever stand by and let that happen to any other female again, least of all his Feyre. His sarcastic, wild, beautiful Feyre.

But as the words left his mouth something deeply rooted, and hateful twisted in Feyre’s eyes. Causing the storm to darken like never before, she tried to leap forward but was reigned in by Hybern’s soldiers.

“Let her go.” Tamlin ordered, turning his eyes up to Hybern.

But Dae just lifted a finger, an order to be silent. Tamlin nearly snapped but Lucien’s hand gripped him quickly.

Damn it.

Dae lounged back in his throne, “Now, this has been as interesting as ever, but if I may, I would like to perform a little experiment.”

At those words, all eyes snapped to the King of Hybern. Lucien’s head turned so quickly Tamlin thought he heard the Fox’s neck crack.

“What-” Tamlin murmured, but his words were cut off.

The giant, black stone room seemed to darken for a moment, like the lights had flickered on and off simulatanously.

In between a heartbeat, the air shifted, tightening until it was nearly to heavy to breathe. Shadows pressed in and darkness swirled in his vision. It was like a presence had descended in Hybern.

An earth shattering clap of thunder, Tamlin jumped back and Lucien grabbed him by the waist. The Night Court reeled back, and someone screamed.

But the doors of the throne room were thrown open so quickly they slammed against the walls.

And four figures strutted in with their heads high, eyes cruel and each wearing the same twisted expression.

Four human women, each with flaming eyes of a multitude of colours. Like different colour flames. Each breath was a puff of power into the whirlpool of magic that had shadowed the throne room.

There was a shout of something incomprehensible and the two Illyrian warriors tried to rush at the human women, but the soldiers were fasted and in a split second, the two were chained to the floor by threads of black magic.

There was laughter and smiles from the humans as they gazed upon Fae brought so low. One, an older female were greying hair and silver eyes, stopped before the Illyrians, glaring down with a smile.

Tamlin felt the hatred burning off of her, years of remembrance from times humans kneeled before Fae was in her gaze. The High lord of Spring couldn’t say the hatred for their kind wasn’t deserved. It absolutely was.

But then she turned her eyes up to Hybern as the four approached his throne.

The seemingly eldest of the group spoke first, “Hybern, make this trip worth our time.”

“As if I ever wouldn’t.” Dae purred to her. Eyes gleaming wickedly. Something like disgust gleamed in hers, but she held his evil smile with a uncanny version of her own.

“What is-” Rhysand yelled out, cut off by a guard pulling him back by a rope that had been quickly tied around his neck.

Lucien moved even further in front of him. Hands twitching like he might just grab Tamlin, toss him over his shoulder and run.

Tamlin put a hand on his shoulder, if only to prevent him from doing just that.

“This, Lord of Night,” The eldest human purred, “is power.”

They bargained.

It was clear as day, Tamlin saw in all their eyes was magic that shouldn’t belong to humans. It came from a bargain.

And it was only confirmed by Dae’s next words, “The Queens of the Human realms and I have created a bargain of our own. I give them the power they so desire, and in return I have their support.”

The blonde female on the floor, next to Feyre, screamed, it was raw and guttural, “We had a deal!”

The Queens just grinned with cruel eyes.

Hybern was planning to invade the mortal world. To take them all back as slaves, and the Queens had countered with a plan of their own making. A last ditch effort to protect their lands, making plans with the enemy.

Tamlin caught the eye of one of the Queens. A beautiful woman, with eyes that were wide set like a fawn, hair perfect and dress smooth. Her fiery eyes burned into his own with delight and something rest-assured.

She winked, her grin softening into something confident and genuinely kind.

Tamlin returned it with understanding in his eyes.

They were here to protect their Courts. The same way he was.

But as he looked back down at the Night Court, it seemed the great powerful Daemati’s had yet to catch onto that.

Rhysand’s eyes were wide with panic, the purple shining bright like light violet, he writhed against his chains. And Feyre tried to dive a foot into the gut of the male holding her back.

“Let her go.” Tamlin ordered again.

Dae once again ignored him, “Back to my little experiment. As per requested by the Queens. I will show you just the amount of power we hold in the palms of our hands.”

With a snap of his fingers. The doors slammed open.

And the room fell silent as the air was sucked, and darkness filled the world.

Whispers of ancient evil and cruelty filled his ears, and phantom hands crawled up his skin. Invasive and touching, and filled with a power he could barely imagine.

The whispers got louder and for a moment Tamlin made out what they said to him.

“Son of the Lady. Son of our Lady. Son of the Blessed. Son of Dahlia. Son of Dahlia. Son of Dahlia.”

Dahlia.

Son of Dahlia.

His mother.

The Cauldron was placed on the floor, and the darkened liquid sloshing inside lapped at the edges of its cage. Whispering to the outside, curious and peeking around. Like fingers that traced the rim of the bowl. Beckoning.

There was a choked gasp and Tamlin’s eyes snapped down to Feyre, she wasn’t looking at the Cauldron, or the Queens or Hybern.

Rather she was staring down at a pendant around her neck. She held it in her hand as her eyes were wide, staring at it as it glowed with power.

Emerald.

He saw it in her palm, it flashed at him like metal gleaming. With power it glowed so brightly she clasped it in between her two hands, eyes shooting up, and they met his.

Momentarily stunned, hatred was all gone, as she looked to the Cauldron, then back to the necklace.

Two and two were quickly put together.

The necklace was reacting to the Cauldron.

“What-” Feyre gasped out.

Then there was raucous laughter as a snake stepped out of the shadows.

Lady Amber stalked towards the Cauldron like it called for her. The hood of her robe fell away as she approached, looking down into the deep magic it held like it was her own. Her eyes gleamed so wickedly, and as she lifted her hand, her sleeve fell down to her elbow.

And exposed her emerald bracelet, which glowed like a shining star in the sky, as if it was basking in the delightfully evil power of the Cauldron. Eyes gleaming in the reflection of the light, Amber turned her head up to the King of Hybern.

“We will be unstoppable, my King.” She murmured.

Dae grinned as he tossed a leg over the arm of his throne, lounging in all his glory, “I know, High Priestess.”

She was their High Priestess. No wonder she had such robes.

Tamlin looked back down to the emerald clutched in Feyre’s hand, as she hid it under her shirt.

He looked back at Amber’s emerald.

Feyre met his eyes, wide with confusion and fear.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

They needed to get out of here now.

“Lucien-”

Lucien’s eyes widening halted Tamlin’s words as cries and screams filled the air once more. And a set of guards winnowed in, bringing all Hell with them.

Feyre was the figure out what was happening, and the first to scream as she lunged forward.

“Nesta! Elain!” Feyre screamed, a guttural sound that shook the room with magic.

On the cold floor they were thrown, in just their nightgowns. The two Archeron sisters were tied, skin bruised, the eldest one had her lip cut, red and black blooming on her eye from where she had undoubtedly been punched.

The middle one was screaming, tears freely dripping down her face. Her hands were bleeding like she had been desperately grabbing onto something to prevent them from taking her.

No.

Fucking hell no.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Tamlin shouted up at Hybern. Stepping forward, wanting to rush at him.

Lucien held him back by his wrist.

Dae just grinned once again, “The experiment.”

“Let them go! They have no part in this!” Feyre shrieked.

“This was not part of our deal.” Tamlin seethed.

“No.” Amber said, hands hovering over the Cauldron, as if taking in warmth from a fire, “it was in our deal.”

Nodding, the King of Hybern grinned, “We needed a test subject for this little experiment. And these two, sisters of a Made Fae, will work perfectly.”

“You told them about my sisters!” Feyre accused, screaming as she nearly snapped her chains. Teeth and claws nearly breaking her skin, breaking through a near impenetrable force of magic around her.

“No, no I-”

“He didn’t.” Amber replied smoothly, eyes greedily lapping in the sight of the Cauldron, her own form of worship as she gazed upon it, “My dear little runaway daughter did.”

Runaway daughter.

“My daughter has told me much about you, Spring Lord.”

“Release them at once!” Tamlin shouted, hands curling into fists.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, none of this was supposed to happen.

Who told the King about them? Who would do this? Who would be so cruel-

“I told you not to come here, Tam.” An emotionless, static voice called.

A full body chill descended upon his skin, every nerve on end, burned and raw.

Please no.

If there was anything in the world he could ask for, he would ask for this to have all been a dream. Ice flooded him as starkly as the warm anger that had curled in his gut as another walked through those large doors.

Pale blue robes, blonde hair curling around her face. Eyes filled with nothing at all, as she walked towards the Cauldron, towards the two sisters.

“What have you done?” Tamlin whispered.

Ianthe stoic eyes didn’t meet his as she said, “You should have never come here.”

She told Hybern. Ianthe revealed the sister’s.

But that meant-

“Dear daughter.” Amber crooned, as she beckoned the Priestess forth. Ianthe obeyed, her head low as she stepped up to the Cauldron, beside her mother.

“Dear mother.” Ianthe murmured back, her voice as blank as her eyes.

No.

But denial was worth nothing, as Rhysand hissed, “I knew you were a viper, Ianthe. The apple never strays.”

For the first time since entering, emotion flashed in her blue eyes for a moment as she flinched at the words.

Amber ignored Rhysand as she stepped back and grabbed her daughter by her shoulders and held Ianthe in front of her. Fingers digging into the bone until it must’ve hurt. But Ianthe just held her head high and gazed into the Cauldron.

“Enough embellishments, let our experiment begin.” Dae declared, “The Mortal Queens wished for a show of how a human can be Made. We will give them just that.”

With a snap of his fingers, the guards grabbed Nesta and Elain pulling them to their shaking knees as they both pulled back and tried to kick away.

Dae observed them both with cruel eyes, before ultimately saying, “Put the pretty one in first.”

Nesta screamed as Elain was dragged to the Cauldron.

“No.”

She was lifted up, her head thrown back as she cried out. Heels slamming into the lip of the Cauldron, like she might shove off, like she might tip it over and run.

A burst of unadulterated magic struck him and Tamlin rushed forward. To Dae. To the Throne.

Claws and teeth and everything vicious and snarling. Tamlin lunged forward, but something burning and too bright grabbed him and reigned him back. Gagging him and pulling his clawed hands away from Dae’s face.

Tamlin snarled and Hybern laughed.

Gasps echoed from behind him, and Tamlin’s eyes widened by a fraction as he realised, Lucien was no longer in front of him to hide the evidence of the baby.

Hybern mouthed, ‘You will regret this.’

A shout of terror and anger vibrated in his bones as Lucien writhed against his own restraints, held back after trying to dive after Tamlin, and the girl being thrown into the Cauldron.

Nothing could be done. Even as Feyre screamed so loud the Palace nearly shook, Elain was thrown in.

The emerald on Amber’s wrist glowed as her smile widened.

And the world shook.

Everything quivered.

Like a shaking breath of pleasure, the ground, sky and wind melted into the point of the Cauldron, as Elain was boiled alive.

It was barely a second long.

Her hands broke the surface of the Cauldron and she grabbed the edge. Head breaking up for air, she gasped, and as she took a new breath, reborn, remade. The Earth quivered again.

Her long brown hair stuck to her back, neck and shoulders. Pushed up by her hands, nightgown soaked and sticking to her skin, revealing every part of her frame.

And Ianthe at the Cauldron, her stoic mask was burned away as she began to shake. Breath stolen from her lungs as her blue eyes shone like sapphires.

Elain’s hands slipped and she nearly fell back into the dark waters.

But Ianthe’s hands were faster. Nearly shoving away from her mother, she lunged forward, grabbing the creature that had once been the human Elain. And pulling her out, to the ground. Soaking her robes with water that was both holy and sinful.

“Ianthe!” Amber shouted. But Ianthe ignored her as she gently laid the shivering Elain in her lap as she kneeled on the floor.

Still the same eyes and sweet face, but her limbs were longer now, skin healthier, glowing. A golden light was pouring from her chest and the tips of her fingers. Haloing her head.

Ianthe was panting, breaths becoming shallower and shallower as stared down at the newly Made Fae.

“Ianthe, get back over here.” Amber seethed.

“Mate.” Ianthe gasped out.

The world exploded.

Nesta screamed as she lunged forward and tore Elain away from the Priestess, shoving Ianthe to the ground.

Amber shrieked something. Face burning red from anger, hands shaking, she snapped forward. Ianthe tried to scramble back, but her mother grabbed her, pulling her hood, her head covering off of her blonde hair. Ianthe screamed as she cried, trying to pull the hood back over her head.

Amber pulled Ianthe’s face to her own as she screamed curses in the name of the Mother in her face. Curses of breaking her vows, and Ianthe sobbed, heavy wet tears falling down her face.

“Enough!” Hybern’s voice echoed through the room, Amber looked back up to the King of Hybern, who nodded to her. Amber gritted her teeth and threw her daughter to the floor and quickly covered her head again as she cried and whispered prayers to the Mother. Apologies and begging for some kind of mercy.

Tamlin writhed against his chains. Pulling and pulling. Elain sobbed into Nesta’s chest, but the guards pulled her away, as they grabbed Nesta and forced her to her feet. Nesta screamed bloody murder as she was dragged to the Cauldron.

“No, No!” Feyre cried as she too was helpless but to watch her eldest sister be picked up and brought to the surface of the burning ice of the Cauldron.

But as she was plunged under, Nesta twisted her body and turned to Hybern.

As her skin was burned going under, the flaming water eating away at her skin and bones, turning her into something else. She lifted a hand.

Her eyes flashed.

Target locked.

Promise marked.

Nesta Archeron pointed to the King of Hybern, and Dae, Dae with all the power in his hands, flinched as his eyes widened and his skin paled.

And the once human girl went under.

If the world quivered in pleasure at Elain’s death and rebirth, it roared with anger at Nesta’s.

The air turned stiff and everyone began to gasp for air like it had been taken away. The ground under them shook and the stone floors screeched as it cracked.

Outside thunder split the sky. Causing the world to divulge into a show of rage and hurt, as the Cauldron cried out like it was being torn apart.

And finally, after too long and barely a second later at the same time, two hands broke the surface and Nesta tried to shove out of the Cauldron. Dark water dripped down her face, as she grabbed the rim of the bowl, she lifted her eyes.

Silver danced in them like flames of molten steel.

The whole room went wholly still.

She gasped and gagged, tears of anger and pain streaming down her face. She hauled a leg over the Cauldron, but as if something were pulling her back in, she slipped back.

In a sudden burst of light and energy, Lucien rushed to the Cauldron, free of his restraints.

However, he wasn’t faster than Elain, who scraped her knees, blooding herself further as she leapt up and grabbed her eldest sister’s hand. Dragging her to the floor. Nesta fell in a boneless heap in her sister’s arms.

Lucien, reaching them just a second later, didn’t waste time as he shrugged off his coat and draped it over the two sisters. Nesta snarled up at him, but out of energy she couldn’t force him away. Elain accepted the warm, dry clothing with little more than a piercing glare.

Made. Pointed ears pushed past their long locks of hair. Skin glowing with power that wasn’t previously there. Fae, through and through, with nothing human left to them.

Dae cleared his throat, cutting through the power and magic writhing in the air. He addressed the Queens, “Now you see what the Cauldron can do, the power it holds. Creation itself is in our hands.”

Creation itself.

Twisting his head, Tamlin looked towards Feyre.

Her eyes were wet with tears, and her eyes kept darting between everyone. Like she didn’t know what to think about first.

They were so utterly fucked.

Feyre didn’t know what to do.

At first it had been going just as planned.

Then she had turned her back on the Cauldron and laid eyes on one she had only ever seen as an eye ring on Amarantha’s finger. Jurian had smirked at them as guards descended on them.

Brought kicking and screaming to the throne room she had at first been set on rushing at the King herself. As she watched Cassian and Azriel struggle against their restraints. As Morrigan was tied up and Rhysand was chained, she pulled her power to the surface and prepared to rush him.

Then her eyes fell to two standing by the throne. Tamlin mostly hidden behind Lucien, who was watching with blank eyes. All anger had consumed her in that moment, as she remembered being trapped behind those doors, locked in that house. She screamed and wanted for blood to spill.

Then those mortal Queens, betraying them and looking down at Azriel and Cassian like dogs. Feyre wanted to kill them too.

Then her sisters, tossed into the Cauldron and remade. Because Ianthe, someone she had considered a friend, had given them away. Had willingly handed them over to Hybern.

Ianthe’s own words came back to her, “Just know not to take the word of Faeries at face value." She had told her. Almost like she was warning her.

Or perhaps taunting her, Feyre thought, since she ended up betraying her.

But then Ianthe had pulled Elain into her lap, and whispered that dreadful word.

Mate.

Feyre had wanted to scream and shout, but froze. Nesta reacted the quickest, shoving Ianthe away from Elain.

Then that High Priestess of Hybern, Ianthe’s mother, had screamed in the Priestess of Spring’s face.

Ianthe still was on the floor, her mother hovering over her. Watching her every move.

And Feyre found herself clutching the emerald necklace now hidden underneath her shirt.

It glowed with the power of the Cauldron. And when she looked at Ianthe's mother’s wrist, a bracelet of pure emerald glowed under her robes.

What else had Ianthe told her that day? When she gave her necklace? The day she had cried out in her mind for someone to take her away from that wedding?

"Take it, Cursebreaker." As she let it hang from Feyre's neck she murmured, "You may need it."

"Need it?" Feyre whispered.

Ianthe just smiled, "Trust me."

"You said yourself not to take the words of Fae at face value." Feyre countered.

"I did." She stated.

Before Feyre could once again point out the blatant hypocrisy, Ianthe said, "Try to see past the person, Feyre. Try and see what may lay underneath."

Try and see what may lay underneath…

What lays underneath, what lays underneath, what lays underneath?

Now Nesta, Made Fae and stripped of her human skin, clutched Elain. Whilst the middle Archeron sister pulled her in protectively, anger and pure fear twisting in her face as she helped to shield the eldest.

Feyre clutched the necklace tighter, part of her wanted to rip it off for the deceit of Ianthe, the other made her keep it on.

One of the Mortal Queens, those traitors, stepped forward and away from the rest. She was the eldest of the group, her darkened eyes swept over Nesta and Elain before turning back to Hybern, “We see that you have such great power, Fae King. With this confirmation, my sisters and I ask we go through to the next phase.”

Hybern smiled coldly, “Then let us proceed.”

Proceed.

As the Queen smiled, the others encircled the Cauldron.

Hybern caught Feyre’s widened, confused eyes. As the Inner Circle around her were strapped with chains and gagged with cloth. Morrigan fought them away as best she could, but the blonde was exhausted and easily restrained.

“I see you are confused, Archeron. Allow me to explain.” He grinned, “The Mortal Queens will be vessels for the Cauldron’s magic, and with them we will spread power throughout the entirety of the Realm, taking full control of this world and all its inhabitants.”

Full control.

Feyre snapped her eyes to Rhysand, whose entire face had gone completely pale. That rope around his neck choked him as it was pulled. Spine bending, his back arching as his whole body trembled. A half-muffled cry of pain tearing from his throat.

Then her eyes tore to Tamlin, gagged and bound. Green dress singed where the ropes burned over his clothes. And when her eyes fell to his middle.

Like alarm bells were blazing in her ears. Fae senses all sharp on and on edge. Instincts in buried deep down in her core fought to the surface. Forcing her to crawl forward, towards him, as if if she laid hands on his skin this would be undone.

Her mind was screaming it, a voice that wasn’t her own told her what it was.

Pregnancy, a baby, her child.

Her baby.

Shit.

Feyre rushed to her feet on fiery legs, her muscles contracting and burning. She rushed for the throne, claws shooting through her fingertips. She would rip Hybern’s throat out, she would kill them all, she would undo all of this.

She screamed as the chains around her limbs dragged her to the ground, the noise that left her throat was half feral animal. Every one of the Inner Circle swivelled their heads to her. Their eyes wide, fearful and confused.

She met them with a look of anger and pain. It coursed through her skin, making her fill with light from another power that was not naturally her own. Skin glowing, hands smoking with fire and the whole world so sharp and clearer than ever, a sob was torn from her. Making her whole body shake.

Shit.

Then a scream echoed through the castle. And smoke filled the throne room.

When Feyre looked towards the Cauldron, she saw black, ashy smoke that rolled out in waves, rippling over the stone.

And the Priestess wearing black robes, who had called herself Ianthe’s mother, was bent over the side of the Cauldron. Her face completely submerged, burning and bubbling off.

Ianthe stood behind her. Eyes wide and full of terror and rage. Feyre nearly flinched as she witnessed the Priestess of Spring with her hand forcing her mother’s face into the Cauldron as she screamed and screamed, even under the water.

“Release her!” Hybern’s voice bellowed through the room.

Ianthe did not listen. As fire flamed in her eyes she screamed for all to hear, “This is what you deserve, you fucking witch!”

In a second, everything turned.

As soon as Ianthe’s declaration left her throat, her mother twisted up. Her hand grabbing onto Ianthe’s robes and tried to force her down into the Cauldron.

“Ianthe!” Feyre screamed.

The Priestess tried to kick and fight back as her mother came back up from the Cauldron.

Oh Gods.

Her face, fairer than before, eyes pools of blazing fire. Hair dripping and soaked, light that spilled down her shoulders. Like the sun had come down from the sky and walked as a person. Blinding and beautiful. And so, so angry.

Her mother screamed something incoherent as she pushed her daughter to the lip of the Cauldron.

“The emerald!” Ianthe screamed as she grabbed onto the lip of the bowl. Nails tearing away, fingers pouring blood as her mother tried to shove her in.

Hybern shot up from his throne and gaurds rushed to the Cauldron.

The emerald.

It burned a hole through her shirt, and marked her chest as it filled with undiluted power.

Feyre grabbed onto the emerald even as it singed her palm, burning her flesh until it was scorching and smoking.

With no idea what it did or how to use it, Feyre did the first thing that came to her mind.

She brought up every drop of power she had writhing in her, screaming for release. Screwing her eyes shut so she only saw black. She imagined the seven orbs of magic, sitting deep in her belly. Waiting for their chance to rise. She imagined each Court. With their magic, their skies, their sights, their feels. Even the wind was different for each.

She felt the emerald grow hotter and hotter and hotter until her bone was exposed and turning black from heat. The pain was nothing compared to the magic clawing its way out of her body.

Winds that surrounded her, each different, some harsher, some hotter, some softer, some colder. Feyre didn’t know where her body began or ended as power collapsed in on her, and the emerald became her only anchor to the world around her.

Screaming erupted in the throne room and Feyre opened her eyes.

She saw light, golden beautiful light, it shone in her eyes and hair and skin. She met the face of Ianthe and her mother.

Ianthe grinned so wildly as her mother plunged her into the Cauldron.

Feyre screamed and the world shattered.

The Mortal Queens drew swords from the pockets between worlds. The eldest tossing off her heeled shoes and diving at the guards holding back Rhysand.

She cut them down in one fell swoop, heads rolling to the ground, and the High lord of the Night Court was free.

Feyre didn’t feel the ground beneath her feet, and when she looked down, she saw that she hovered above it. Power writhed around her like threads of light and fire. The colours shifted from green, to purple, to white, to black, to blue, to every colour she had ever seen and more.

With her hand clutching the emerald, she felt it, sucking the energy around it.

She gave and gave and gave her magic until the emerald had all of it. A stone of magic and power. Until it was no longer recognizable as an emerald, until it was just a pool of pure magic.

Falling to the floor, her knees cracked against the stone, she pulled it close to her heart as all magic left her.

Her breaths were slowing, her power was gone, her ears were rounded now, instead of pointed. And she felt the undoing of the healing work, as her neck felt more and more fragile, the bone chipping away.

Not much time left.

Ianthe’s mother left the Cauldron’s side as she rushed for Feyre, running with her hands out, trying to get the emerald from Feyre’s hands.

In one final burst of strength Feyre got to her feet and threw Ianthe’s mother to the floor. Then ran for the Cauldron.

Her feet gave out under her.

Sprawling across the floor, Feyre saw through darkened eyes, the emerald rolling from her hand out across the floor.

Then Ianthe’s mother laughing as she stood over Feyre.

“Off with your head.” She crooned, as her foot came down and snapped her neck.

Tamlin didn’t think he would be able to break free of the restraints that were holding him down.

Then he heard the sound of bone under foot. And he saw her again, red hair, and laughing cruel eyes. Hands on his bare skin. And then hands on her skin, her power holding her up as she snapped her neck.

In a burst of immense power that washed through his veins. Forcing to the surface. Roots that shot up from the ground. The ropes turned to nothing around him, bursting into light and warmth.

And Tamlin launched at Amber. Her head tilted back as she laughed and reached for the emerald.

But never got to it as Tamlin pulled her down to the ground.

She screamed as her arm reeled back and hand closed into a fist, connecting with his jaw. He cried out in pain, but grabbed onto her hand and yanked hard enough that a handful of blonde curls were ripped out. She screamed, pulled her hand back again and her punch landed in his belly this time.

Tamlin screamed, as she laughed and pulled her hand back again

Amber shrieked as fire split across her side and she was thrown across the room.

Lucien screamed his name and ran to his side.

He couldn’t feel much, that punch sent fire up his jaw, he tasted blood in his mouth, but nothing was compared to the terror seizing up his every movement as pain twisted and pounded in his belly. A sob was ripped from his throat. Big, wet tears shedding down his face, but he forced himself up.

Lucien grabbed and held him back. But Tamlin laid eyes on the glowing emerald, and the chaos around it.

The mortal Queens were fighting the soldiers with all the strength they had. Swinging their swords and meeting the soldiers for every strike. But being human, they were losing the fights.

The Illyrian warriors and the blonde female were grappling with their captors. And Rhysand ran for Feyre. Arms reaching out, screaming as he tried to grab her.

Then a guard reefed him back, shoving faebane down his throat. And forcing him to be tied once more.

They were losing. Badly.

And through all the chaos, the swords clashing and the screaming. Tamlin heard footsteps. Footsteps that reverberated through the room and through his bones.

When he looked up, Dae stared down with a grin. Reaching down he took the emerald in his hands. Filled with the power of seven High lords. Glowing like a fallen star spilling its light across land.

“Well look at this.” Dae said as he looked into his palm, at the star of power shining up at him.

“I do wonder just what we could do with this.” His grin widened as his head filled with all the power he now held right in the centre of his palm.

“Nothing!” A voice screamed.

The world rumbled, shaking with the power that shuddered through it.

Everyone ceased their movements as the earth seemed to come to a blinding stop.

Looking to the Cauldron, there she stood. On shaking legs, as unstable as a just born foal. Soaked to the bone, her hair stuck to the sides of her face. Eyes blazing with anger and courage.

Nesta Archeron clung to her limp sister. Her broken neck unable to hold up her head. Her formerly strong body, now unmoving and dead.

“You will be nothing.” Nesta breathed, voice a puff of frost in a frozen land.

Dae stared at her with wide eyes. Unable to anticipate what the middle Archeorn sister was doing.

Elain appeared from seemingly nowhere, as if travelling in between worlds. As if winnowing, but in a way that was slightly different, unlike appearing from one place to another, but as if running between the worlds, travelling on air.

She snatched the emerald from Dae’s hand, and as he shouted and went to grab it. Elain tossed the emerald into the Cauldron. At the same time, Nesta pushed in Feyre.

Coming back to life was a different experience than before.

Her skin burned and burned and burned. Back arching, each muscle on fire. Flames spread over her skin like never before. Singed like the hairs of a feather. Fire and icy water delving into her body. Ripped apart and put together again like a deconstructable doll.

She wanted to scream, open her mouth and throat and scream for all her life. But as her lips parted her throat filled with water and she choked. Drowning, as her lungs filled with it. The fiery liquid burning and freezing her all at once. In a panicking haze she fought to get somewhere. Anywhere, just out of the water, but there was nowhere to go.

She wasn’t in open air, instead underwater, deep in a void of darkness that was never-ending. As if she was in deep ocean. Opening her eyes, she looked down and saw black. Around her was just black, above her was all black. All of it was black.

Black, black, black.

She was dead, she had to be dead. She was in some kind of eternal punishment. This was the Hell she had been warned about. Oh dear Gods.

Her body went limp as her eyes closed once more. Unable to breathe, unable to think as she fell deeper into the darkness. Feeling cold seeping in like never before

Then something grabbed her.

A hand held onto her arm, keeping her connected to whatever was with her here. Her eyes shot open again, as her body fought for life, as something, that thing holding onto her, just being there wouldn’t let her die.

Darkness, it was all darkness, until it wasn’t.

Until something filled with light dropped down with them, like a drop of sunlight falling into the sea.

As it fell down to them, Feyre saw her.

Blonde hair floating around her face in the water. Eyes of bright blue. Skin pale and covered by pale robes.

Before it could fall past them, Feyre took hold of the drop of light, holding it in her palm as she stared at Ianthe.

And as that emerald sat in her hand, a warmth spread over her skin. Making her come alight. Her very blood began to glow with its magic, making every line, every vein underneath her skin light up with it.

The water was gone from her lungs, and air was no longer needed. Her body completely sustained on power.

Not dead.

They weren’t dead.

Looking down at the drop of light in her hand.

It was the emerald.

Soft fingers touched her mental wards. Feyre quickly opened them, and a soft voice spoke into the space between them, ‘Feyre.’

‘Ianthe.’

They stared at each other through the water, shimmering reflections connected their hands, holding onto each other like they might slip back into darkness at any moment.

‘They’re out there still.’ Ianthe said, ‘We need to use the emerald.’

‘How? It has all of my power now. How do we use it?’

Ianthe grinned as she covered Feyre’s hands with her own, closing the emerald in.

‘Breathe in, and command it.’

The Cauldron was bubbling over. Water splashing over the lip, hissing angrily as it hit the floor. Black flames licked up over the water. It boiled over as the world started shaking. Parts of the roof falling.

Time to get out of here.

Tamlin was still unconscious. Blood dripping from his mouth, a bruise swelling on his face. Lucien picked him up and stood off the floor, being as careful as he could. Pulling him into his arms even as Lucien himself still knelt on the floor.

He took a hit to the stomach, panic swelled in Lucien’s chest as he thought of what could have happened.

Gods please just make sure he’s okay.

Where to run?

The world around them was swirling shadow and fire and smoke. There was no way out. No one could get out now. They were in the middle of a losing fight, a circle of bloodshed and killing around them, as guards shouted, the Queens cried out, and the Night Court spun with their steel and hands.

And Hybern ran for the Cauldron. The King looked over the edge, going past the bubbling and the black fire spreading. Looking in, trying to find that emerald of light.

Elain had fallen to her knees and crawled to her shaking sister, who even with her eyes of steel could not hide her horror at the sights around her.

Lucien pulled Tamlin closer to his chest, and pulled fire from his core as his eyes lit up.

And his own flames burst through the room.

Two guards screamed as their body was reduced to ashes. Around them, Lucien formed a circle of impenetrable flames, and did the same for Elain and Nesta. Elain whom had pulled Lucien’s coat from the floor and covered her sister with it. Her doe brown eyes jumped up to him, Lucien nodded to her and Elain returned the gesture with an almost smile, an almost thank you.

Almost because she couldn’t be anymore thankful to him than she was to the people who had put her in the Cauldron. But Lucien didn’t blame her for that.

“Feyre.” A voice croaked from below him, Lucien looked down at Tamlin whose eyes slowly blinked open. He coughed and more blood dripped down his chin, “Feyre… Cauldron-”

“Tam we have to focus on getting out alive.” Lucien told him as he lifted his hand and aimed a blast of fire at a guard who threw one of the Queens to the floor and lifted his sword to her. He fell to the ground a pile of bubbling flesh. Lucien heard retching noises and when he glanced over he saw Elain finally keeling over as she vomited at the sight.

He felt bad for the girl, but had no time to stew over her as Tamlin quickly reefed away from his arms.

“Tamlin-!” Lucien panicked, hands going out to grab him and pull him back.

Tamlin shoved his arms back with an apologetic look before forcing himself up on shaking legs. Lucien got up and went to follow him but slammed into a ward. He cried out as he winced, but it was quickly replaced by terror as he realised Tamlin had warded him back.

‘I’m sorry.’ Tamlin mouthed, before he ran for Amber’s body on the floor.

He knew what he had to do.

If only to get everyone out alive.

Those emeralds, they could absorb power.

Those words Amber had hissed to him in that hallway.

She laughed, “Emeralds hold much power from my family. Ours are enchanted, my dear.”

Enchanted.

Tamlin had been wondering with what, and he finally figured it out.

They could absorb power from others and give that magic to whoever wore them. And Amber had been going to use her emerald to absorb the power of the Cauldron.

The emerald that had been around Feyre’s neck had absorbed the magic that had been keeping her alive, leaving her dead and mortal again. If unleashed, that magic was the equivalent to the most powerful Fae in known history.

What magic did Amber have stored?

Even as Lucien screamed from behind that ward. Tamlin didn’t turn back, but felt as Lucien gave up trying to run and instead focussed his energy on blazing their enemies. Guilt writhed in his core, but he needed to do this and Lucien would try to hold him back.

A guard came out of nowhere and tried to pin him down with his sword. But even if Tamlin was near collapsing he wasn’t a High lord for nothing. Claws shot through his skin almost unannounced and it was nothing to slash his throat and leave him choking on his own blood on the floor.

Tamlin passed the haze of smoke and blood and fire. And finally made it to the darkened corner where Amber was limp on the floor, her breaths shallow but still there, not dead yet. But her face different from the rest of her body, shining faintly, gleaming in the light, as Tamlin put a hand on her forehead, he felt how cold her skin truly was.

Gold.

Her skin had turned to gold.

The Cauldron it seemed, had done a number on her.

Tamlin gave no hesitation as his hands went to her wrist, pulling up her sleeve he saw the emerald bracelet.

Yes.

He went to pull it off, but as he tried to tug it over her hand, her arm shot up.

“Insolent fool.” Amber hissed as she launched up and grabbed his hair, shoving his head to the ground, forehead bashing into the cold stone.

The world went dark for a moment, then he was thrown back into it as she pulled his head back up and went to smash him down again. This time he moved, running on adrenaline and fear.

Twisting back, Tamlin grabbed her robes, then sharply kicked her in the stomach. Amber cried out, but was not quick enough to react as Tamlin sunk his teeth into her throat, ripping with sharpened canines, blood pooled in his mouth and she screamed death in his ear.

“Fuck. You. Witch!” She might as well have been one.

Amber spluttered, vomiting blood, every inch of him burned to finish the job, but as the Cauldron bubbled over once more, spilling more ancient water to the ground, causing more black fire to scorch the ground. He knew he didn’t have much more time.

Grabbing her wrist, it was nothing to snap it. Causing her body to convulse with pain, he let her fall to the ground as he ripped the bracelet off and forced himself back to his feet.

The world faded in and out, Tamlin nearly tripped and fell. He was losing energy quickly. In no time at all he would pass out, and the High lord genuinely didn’t know if he would wake up again.

The closer he got to the Cauldron the more the emerald started to glow, and burn. As it burned into his hands, the pain throbbed through his arms and the added injury ca

used him to nearly lose footing again, it was a miracle he hadn’t fallen again already.

Everything was burning hotter and hotter, the air was suffocating, he could barely see as the room was now little more than black smoke. Another gust of unnatural wind caused by the power of the Cauldron and Tamlin could no longer see.

He coughed and spluttered, but still ran forward, knowing it was somewhere in front of him.

Feeling splashing underfoot, the water that touched his skin burning marks that would scar forever, he knew he was almost there.

Almost there, almost there, almost there-

“There you are, my love.” A cruel male voice hissed as he was grabbed and torn away from the Cauldron.

“No!” Tamlin screamed as he kicked and bucked and thrashed, desperately holding onto the emerald bracelet like a lifeline in a storm.

Dae laughed in his ear as he pulled him back, “I may not have the cursebreakers power, but I will make do with yours.”

Screaming, Dae grabbed the bracelet from his hand and put it to his chest. Whispering something like a spell, a curse or maybe an enchantment, the emerald began to glow, and Tamlin felt himself get weaker and weaker, as the emerald sucked away his magic.

Not now, not when he was so close. They were on the brink of losing or winning.

Losing he realised, they were losing.

Done for.

He went limp as his eyes started to close.

Dae pressed his lips to Tamlin’s ear, cold words seeping into his skin, into his bones, as if they were etched there with a knife, “Did you really think you could outsmart me, Tamlin? Did you think you could win?”

A cruel laugh, “You will see what we do to traitors around here, even if they’re dead.”

The world turned cold once more and Tamlin felt himself slipping in and out of reality, as everything became less and less corporeal.

Dying.

So this was dying.

Why did it have to be so inviting? So loving and tender?

“Please.” He whispered.

Someone.

Anyone.

As he closed his eyes for the final time. Tamlin felt the breath leave his lungs-

“Keep your hands off my mate!”

The black smoke was forced back by magic of another. And there he stood.

Free of the ward which had fallen away as Tamlin’s power was drained. Hands blazing with fire and eyes melted into pools of burning, burning light. Lucien looked like flame personified.

Dae shouted something to his guards, but no one could react quick enough as a blast of fire was shot out at Hybern.

Dae lifted a hand and a ward blocked the attack with ease. He tilted his head back as he laughed in Lucien’s face, “What was that fire lord? At least give me something harder to fight against.”

“He was just the distraction, bitch King.” A delighted voice hissed, before a knife sunk into Dae’s side.

The King screamed as Nesta Archeron stabbed him. Blood poured from his side, but as he raised his hands to grab her neck, he dropped Tamlin to the floor.

It was no matter as Tamlin sprawled, weak and near powerless, against the stone, as he still held the emerald.

Nesta choked as she ripped out the knife, Dae lifted her above the floor with a single hand as she grasped his wrist with both hands, face beginning to turn pink from lack of air.

“Stupid, stupid girl.” He said, as he raised the emerald, it glowed with power as he pressed it to her body, “I wonder what power you took from the Cauldron.”

The knife dropped to the floor, and Tamlin looked up to meet Nesta’s eyes.

Smart, smart girl.

Tamlin grabbed the knife, and in a swift motion stabbed it into Dae’s back.

The High lord barely heard his cry, just watched as his body seized up and released Nesta along with the emerald on instinct.

Even as Dae swung around and grabbed Tamlin, it didn’t matter, because Nesta grabbed the emerald. And threw it through the air.

Dae shouted as he watched the scene unfold, letting Tamlin drop back to the floor and this time he remained there, content with what he had done as he saw what the sisters did.

Elain caught the glowing emerald with a single hand and ran for the Cauldron. Even as Dae bolted after her, he was not near quick enough for Elain, who seemed to disappear behind shimmering air and then reappear by the Cauldron, still running.

As the Cauldron seemed to cry with overflowing magic, Elain held the bracelet over it. Her hands visibly began to burn and blister with the intense heat, but she didn’t back down, didn’t flinch, not even as the burning spread over her arms.

The Cauldron splashed one more time.

And a hand shot up out of it. A pale hand with tattoos covered it, an eye drawn into the centre of her palm. Feyre seized the emerald bracelet as she grabbed the edge of the Cauldron and hauled herself up.

And holding onto her as she was pulled up as well, was Ianthe. Drenched and shivering, but clutching the glowing emerald necklace that Feyre had once had around her neck, to her chest.

The world faded in and out again.

Then hands were on him and Tamlin flinched, but when he looked up, he relaxed. Dark brown eyes bore into his own, red hair falling around them. Lucien’s eyes were flicking all over him. Assessing each part of his body, pulling Tamlin into his arms.

“Hold on.” Lucien begged, “Please hold on, we can win.”

Tamlin smiled weakly at Lucien, as his eyes fell closed.

“I love you.” Tamlin whispered, as all started to drown out.

The last he heard was a petrified scream from his mate as he descended into darkness.

As her hand closed around that bracelet, Feyre felt power flood her veins. Power that was not hers but hers to use so long as the emerald was in her hands. And with Ianthe touching her, Feyre’s emerald in her hands. They were a combined magic. For a moment in time, whilst still in the Cauldron, they were the magic of the Cauldron.

Eyes blazing and bodies alight with magic, Feyre lifted her hand and closed her eyes.

Black, she pulled out the power. Commanding it. Breathe in. She told it to obey.

With the help of the emeralds magic, the power it had sucked it, like a breath held in still lungs, it all blended and merged together. No longer chaotic and refusing to work with each other. Rather it moved like water commanded by the Summer Court magic. Flowing and controlled.

Feyre grinned with bone white teeth as she lifted a clawed hand, and squeezed her fingers into a fist.

“Let all Hell break loose.” She whispered.

And break loose it did.

The soldiers screamed as they were burned with black fire. Their bodies dissolving into ash. Even as the Mortal Queens seemed horrified at the blinding figures emerging from the Cauldron, they ran to continue their killing sweep. Finishing off the last of the soldiers.

Then Feyre turned her attention to Hybern, who lifted his head and grinned. Even as he stumbled to one knee, clutching the wound at his side, as his shirt darkened with blood.

Try me, was what that grin said to her.

Feyre gritted her teeth. Twisting her hand as she forced the magic to move with her. The world around her darkening. The room filling, as light exploded from her form. Like a star in blackened night, she was the magic she commanded.

But as magic was forced onto the King of Hybern, she felt it… start to disappear, rather than make contact with the target.

Oh.

Fuck.

Hybern grinned as he lifted a large emerald amulet, a wall of protecting, keeping his body safe from the attack but absorbing the power.

“No.” Ianthe shook from beside her.

He had an emerald.

“No!” Ianthe screamed, she shoved Feyre out of the Cauldron and fell out with her. Stopping the onslaught of magic so he would gain no more.

Sprawled against the stone cold floors, Feyre coughed and spluttered. Feeling herself weakening as the power she had been controlling calmed again.

Now out of the Cauldron, it stopped its bubbling and settled down.

The smoke still drifted around the room, but now it was silent. As the guard had been killed, and there was no one left to fight.

Stepping out from the haze of black smoke, Hybern grinned at her, his wounds healing over from the magic she had just handed to him on a silver platter.

“You should have stayed in the Cauldron, little girl.” He grinned as he lifted the amulet, it glowed with power and reflected in his cold, cruel eyes.

His hand buried in her hair and forced her neck back, as he placed the emerald on her skin, leaving a branding mark, “Let’s see what power we can steal from you.”

Feyre screamed and writhed as once again she felt power torn from deep within her flesh, the very bindings keeping her together.

But unlike last time, Hybern was cut short.

As someone from behind him screamed, “Don’t you dare ever touch my sister!”

And Elain tackled Hybern to the floor, releasing Feyre from the grip of the emerald.

Elain’s small, untrained body was no match for the King but she fought valiantly anyway. With a scream, she kicked and punched, but not before her hands grabbed the amulet and ripped it free of his grasp. She tossed it to Feyre, and shouted “Run!”

“But-” Big, heavy tears fell down her face as Feyre watched her older sister fight.

“Run Feyre! Get out!” Elain cried as Hybern grabbed her hair and slammed her into the floor.

Feyre didn’t run.

But Ianthe did. She grabbed Feyre by her collar, and in what must have been adrenaline filled strength, dragged her up and forced her to run.

The smoke began to clear. And Feyre finally saw the true extent of the damage.

Rhysand was on the floor, her eyes went to him first. Shaking and gritting his teeth, coughing up blood as he tried to stand on two feet. She screamed when she looked closer as she barrelled forward, and saw that one wing had been completely torn off.

Feyre fell to his side but as she cried, “Rhys-”

He shook his hand and grabbed her arm forcing her to look to the middle of the throne room.

“Not me.” He croaked out, “Get him first.”

“Get who-” Feyre cut herself off with a gasp.

She saw them. She saw them and her chest caved in.

Tamlin lying limp across the floor, his body not moving, his chest not rising or falling. And Lucien hunched over his form, crying and pleading into his neck to come back.

“No.” Feyre whispered.

“Everyone evacuate!” The eldest of the Mortal Queens screamed.

At that same moment, Hybern was bolting for Feyre, eyes blazing with rage. And Elain a bloodied form on the floor behind him, whimpering with pain and just barely holding on.

Ianthe laid eyes on her. And she screamed a scream so agony filled that Feyre could have sworn the room shook.

Abandoning everything else. Ianthe shot Feyre one last look, full of apologies unspoken, before she ran for Elain. Falling to her knees by her side.

Hybern ignored the weeping Priestess as he headed for Feyre, “You think you can get away.”

“Oh I think she can.” Rhysand croaked out.

The King’s eyes went wide as a rage-filled grin split his face, “No she won’t.”

“Yes, she will.” A new voice echoed through the room. One like fire and wind. Bursting through and adding a whole new level of danger.

Eris grinned from the doorways, “Hope I’m not too late to the party.”

“Just in time.” Rhysand smirked.

Hybern laid eyes on the Autumn Heir and snarled, “I suggest running now, Autumn bitch.”

“Great fun, Hybern, just like your General was.” Eris drawled as he drew up fire to his hands. Preparing to launch his own attack.

Hybern grinned, “Let's see what the pretty Autumn boy can do then.”

Eris’s eyes were seething when he lifted his hand and fire descended on Hybern.

Shit.

Everything ached, but she had no time to focus in on it. Not as the room was screaming once more, not as they were being thrown into battle again. Elain couldn’t see well at all. Black edging in and out of her vision, she thought she might collapse at any second.

But slowly, very slowly, she felt the pain of her body disappearing and when she forced her eyes to open properly. She saw her.

And her chest tightened until her lungs couldn’t open or close.

The Priestess, Ianthe they had called her, was kneeling over her. The emerald that had been on Feyre’s neck being pressed into Elain’s chest by her hands, she was whispering a prayer of some kind, forcing the power residing in the stone to heal her.

Elain finally breathed in deep enough that she could move again.

A sob tore through Ianthe’s chest as relief flooded her.

“You’re alive.” Ianthe whispered.

“We won’t be for long.” Elain whispered back as she pointed to the fire show going on before them.

A Fae with short red hair and burning eyes, that looked similar to the red-headed male they had called Lucien, was summoning fire down on the King of Hybern. But nothing could harm him, as Ianthe’s mother, the older Priestess, had quickly rushed in front of him and held up her hands.

Whatever power she had been given from the Cauldron when her head had been under, it allowed her to create a ward strong enough to withstand the onslaught of fire from the Autumn male. But forced them to remain standing still so the others around them could rush out of the throne room.

Elain watched as Feyre met her eyes. Elain nodded and Feyre mouthed ‘I’m sorry’.

Before helping to pick up her mate and run from the throne room. Followed by the two winged warriors and the blonde woman.

Leaving the last of those there.

“We need to get them out of here.” Ianthe said, pointing to the middle of the throne room.

Dead.

She was dead. The fair fae, who had been called Tamlin, was dead in the arms of Lucien. Her blonde hair matted with blood, her dress torn and ruined. Elain gasped at the sight of her swollen womb, the child inside it either dead or dying.

And Lucien wracked with grief, his power and energy drained, was collapsed over her. Begging and praying for a miracle.

They needed to get out.

From across the room, Elain saw another lump of fallen flesh. Nesta coughed and vomited, before forcing herself to her knees, surveying the damage with wide eyes.

Then she looked to Elain. And Elain shuddered at what she saw.

Her sister’s grey eyes, now burning, burning silver.

Nesta looked back at Hybern, and the male forcing fire on them. Starting to weaken.

They had to act right now.

“Go!” Elain shouted.

“But-” Nesta started, moving to go towards Elain.

Elain tried to get to her feet but she fell again. Dizzy and unable to stand up properly, the feeling of her body having been through so much, the emeralds could only undo so much damage.

Ianthe was the one to make the decision, as she tossed Nesta the emerald and screamed, “Go!”

Nesta, for the first time, sobbed, wet tears falling down her face. But she nodded and ran.

But not for the doors.

For Lucien and Tamlin.

She grabbed Lucien by his shoulders and screamed, “Grab her and get up!”

Lucien’s eyes went wide, but as if his body was not his own anymore, he obeyed and scooped Tamlin into his arms. Forcing himself up on shaking legs that were even worse that Elain’s. And went for the door.

Thank God.

Elain’s head tipped back as darkness engulfed her.

Nesta was running on burning, burning legs. Every muscle was rigid, she felt everything and nothing at the same time and it was torment.

But nothing could stop her as she forced herself forward and forward. The fox haired male beside her, cheeks tear-stained and cradling the body of his dead mate.

She wanted to look behind her, just to catch a glimpse of her sister, but knew she couldn’t, that she had to get out now. She had the emerald and they needed that to remain out of Hybern’s hands.

The exit was right before them. They were almost out.

A little more.

Lucien passed through the doors and as soon as he was gone from the spelled room, he disappeared into thin air, along with his dead mate.

And Nesta.

Nesta was grabbed and thrown to the floor.

The Fire Fae that had been pelting down flame on Hybern and the Priestess that served him had collapsed in a heap on the ground. Fully spent, with barely enough energy to breathe.

“No!”

She had been so close.

“You stupid whore!” Hybern screamed in her ear as he went to grab the emerald.

“Fuck you!” Nesta screamed as she fisted the emerald, and it burned in her hands.

Then something rage-filled, and hot rolled through her core in dark waves.

And Hybern was screaming and Nesta’s vision was white with flames.

Flames that came from her own hands.

Shit.

Silver, it filled the room, dancing along the stone floor. Burning the King and his Priestess, sending them sprawling back against the scorching stone.

She had no time to revel in her own victory, Nesta clutched the emerald which absorbed the power she could not control herself. Running for the unconscious Fae male.

In a moment of pure fear, strength came to her. She grabbed him and slung his arm around her shoulder, running from the throne room.

“Wake up!” She begged, still he remained limp.

With no other choice, or place to run to as she left the spelled throne room. Heading new guards, the armies rushing into the castle. Filling the place with shouting and the sound of steel being unsheathed.

Nesta put the emerald to the male’s chest like she had witnessed happen and forced magic through it.

“Come on!” She shouted.

The emerald pulsed, the sound of footsteps quicked.

“Please, please, please.” She begged.

He gasped in air as his eyes opened. The green a scorching liquid amber colour.

“Well hello.” He rasped out.

“Get us out of here!” Nesta ordered.

As he looked around and saw new soldiers beginning to rush in through the hallways. He nodded, “Of course, my Lady.”

And they were gone.

When Elain woke up, it was because chains were being wrapped around her body and she was being hauled to her feet.

Head spinning she didn’t know where to look. Maybe Hybern’s half scorched face, maybe Ianthe’s mother, whom she quickly realised was called Amber, when a guard referred to her as such, and her golden face.

Ianthe was silent as she too was put in chains.

Elain didn’t know how long it had been, but it must have been not more than a few minutes, as the bodies of soldiers were still out. And the mess of the battle was still visible.

“Dungeons.” Hybern hissed.

Amber grinned, “With pleasure.

They were walked down dark tunnels that only got darker. The cold seeping in through the walls and into Elain’s skin. She kept her head low but watched Ianthe in front of her through her eyelashes.

Eventually they were led to a large metal door, it swung open with a loud creak and inside could be seen two male guards.

Ianthe stopped in place, as if waiting for Elain to be put in first. But then, Amber tsked, her grin widening as she said, “You’ll go in first, Ianthe.”

There was a moment of silence as the guards then forced the Priestess forward.

In a heartbeat.

Ianthe screamed. A raw sound that tore her throat, nose bleeding from the severity of her crying out. The red streamed down her face as her eyes too began to bleed from her never ending sobbing.

She screamed to the roof, neck stretching up and head fallen back. The Priestess writhed against her chains, clinging to a threshold, as the guards tried to drag her into a room, into a dungeon.

Elain was behind her. Watching with teary eyes of her own, as the robed female scabbed at threshold. Her arms strained, hands beginning to tear.

“Please.” Elain flinched at the tearing screech in her voice.

“This is your punishment,” Amber said to her daughter, as she smiled from behind them, “Your vows were forsaken when you betrayed me.”

Ianthe let out a gut-wrenching cry as she turned her eyes to the sky, “Mother of creation and Cauldron-”

“Do not beg.” Ianthe’s mother crooned. “The Goddess will not save you.”

Ianthe was sobbing, her cries making her voice shake and her prayer barely coherent, “I have been your loyal subject. Save me from staining. Save me please.”

“You defile us by your unworthy prayers.” Amber spat, “You will break your vows today by entering under a roof with only a male. The Mother will punish you with eternal flame and suffering. You are no Priestess.”

“Save me please, Mother, I have done nothing wrong.” Ianthe shrieked, as her fingers began to slip and the guards dragged her inside-

Elain leapt forward, her sudden, sharp burst of movement shocking the guards enough that she slipped from their grip.

She hit the ground, and felt her arm shatter as it hit the floor. But she managed to dive into the room. Hitting a set of stairs and screaming as she almost tumbled down them, only just digging her nails into the wall and stopping herself from falling.

Elain Archeron managed to get through the threshold just before Ianthe was thrown in.

There was a terrifying shriek of anger from the Lady Amber outside, but Ianthe collapsed to the floor, face smeared with her own blood, tears and mucus. Her breaths were too quick and shallow, hyperventilating as she cried more on the floor.

Elain went forward quickly. Her arm screaming with fiery pain but the adrenaline was enough for her to ignore it.

With one arm, Elain managed to pull a sobbing Ianthe into her arms, holding her close.

“You are okay.” Elain whispered, “You did not break your vows.”

Ianthe opened her mouth to say something, but it was cut off by gasping that was getting quicker and quicker as panic was still flooding through her. Elain could feel tears in her own eyes, but she hugged the female tighter, “Priestess.” She whispered, “Your Goddess had mercy, Priestess, she has not forsaken you.”

“My merciful Goddess.” Ianthe whispered into Elain’s skin.

Elain ignored how that declaration felt more like it was directed at Elain herself rather than unseeable God.

I’ll give over my soul. I sacrifice myself. I’ll gut myself on your alter. I throw my body into the sea. Just please, Mother, bring him back to me.

Lucien recited his prayers over and over, and over, and over. Yet Tamlin’s body in his arms remained limp. Unmoving, not breathing.

Water from the beach lapped against his knees. Causing his body to shiver from the cold. The crying of birds watching them was the only noise for a while. Lucien cried into Tamlin’s hair. One hand wrapped around him and the other going to his womb. Resting on the child they would have had, the baby they could have been blessed with.

What would they have looked like?

Blonde hair, blue eyes? Brown hair, green eyes?

A little girl? A little boy?

Lucien cried harder into Tamlin’s hair.

The mating bond, it had snapped into place as Lucien had watched Hybern lay his hands down upon him. The fire that had leapt up in him had been nothing compared to the hatred and anger he had been engulfed with.

But as soon as he was given it, it was ripped away.

Sobbing, barely coherent, barely even there at all. Lucien looked at that lovely face. Blood drying on the corner of his plush lips. Skin still so divine, even if paler now. Lucien threaded his hands through Tamlin’s hair and untangled some of the knots gently.

Lucien pressed his lips to Tamlin’s cheek, then the other, then his temple, then his nose, then the crown of his head. Like it was just another lazy morning in bed, like Tamlin would laugh as he woke. Like Tamlin would open his big green eyes and smile up at him once again.

Please bring him back, please I can’t live without him.

Please.

Please, anybody.

Lucien’s chest heaved and shuddered again as a cry was torn from his again. Rocking his love, his High lord, his Tamlin, back and forth. Like he was just sleeping, just asleep, nothing more. He would awaken. He always did.

“Lucien.” A cracked voice said from behind him. Lucien snapped his eyes up and he saw her.

Feyre, with her beautiful face, scattered with freckles, her brown hair stuck and clinging to her face.

“This is your fault!” Lucien screamed with every last bit of strength in his weak body.

Her eyes went wide and her face scrunched up as she fell to her knees crying.

“If you had just come back, he wouldn’t be dead.” Lucien cried, his words near incoherent from his sobbing.

But even through his cries and screams. Even through Feyre’s relentless sobs.

Tamlin stayed still.

Fully and utterly dead.

__________________________________________________

Whoops I ended it on an angsty note.

I swear Tamlin lives; I promise the story doesn't end here.

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