
She/her
88 posts
Tenshis-cake - Cake - Tumblr Blog
words to use instead of ________
"Mad"
aggravated, angry, annoyed, boiling, cross, enraged, exasperated, fuming, furious, heated, incensed, indignant, irate, irritable, livid, offended, outraged, riled, steamed, storming, upset
"Nice"
amiable, charming, cordial, courteous, delightful, favorable, friendly, genial, gentle, gracious, helpful, inviting, kind, lovely, obliging, peaceful, peachy, pleasant, polite, swell, sympathetic, tender, welcoming, well-mannered, winning
"Pretty"
alluring, appealing, attractive, beautiful, charming, cute, delightful, desirable, elegant, eye-catching, fair, fascinating, gorgeous, graceful, intriguing, lovely, pleasing, striking, stunning, sweet
"Said"
alleged, argued, asked, asserted, babbled, bellowed, bragged, commented, complained, cried, declined, demanded, denied, encouraged, expressed, giggled, growled, inquired, moaned, nagged, rebuked, rebutted, replied, rejected, retorted, roared, scolded, shrieked, shrugged, stated, taunted, vowed, warned, whined, whispered, yelled
"Went"
avoid, bolt, bound, depart, exit, escape, flee, fly, hike, hop, jaunt, jolt, journey, leap, leave, lurch, march, mosey, move, pace, parade, pass, progress, retreat, saunter, scoot, skip, split, step, stride, stroll, tour, travel, vanish
more words to use instead other words to use instead another list of words to use instead
about to say something mean but i feel like every "male-specific" issue is something that also happens to women its just that a lot of you dont seem to see women as people
Crying?! Wtf is this?!


And suddenly, it's my favorite Acotar Appreciation Week of the year again!
I just wanted to paint a very soft and peaceful moment between Elain and Lucien as a couple ♡ Hope you guys like it as much as I do!
For #ElucienWeek2024 - Day I "Fated"
Characters belong to Sarah J. Maas
find my art.
Never ending cycle




Under the wisteria. Blessings of romance, new beginnings and the passage of time.
Inspired by @itsswritten's stories and beautiful OC.
I have a silliy au where the twisted characters are just little pets.
It doesn't have a plot, but I'd assume it's just some fancy critters that just showed up.

It makes me feel good.



and also this



"Grandma! You're pulling my hair! That hurts!"
"Well, I'm sorry, but if you stopped moving, it would hurt less, my dear~"
And we finally have an illustration of Grandma Bucchi! 😀
A little different from some others fanarts…. But I think this could be an opportunity to create some interesting stories!
I believe that Ruggie's grandmother is very resilient and strong-willed, I mean, she had to be, for her and her grandson's survival.

Some of Grandma Bucchi's designs over the years!
Her and Ruggie's personalities should be very similar, but of course she would be much more perceptive in noticing specific things (such as a sixth sense that only grandparents have).
And even though she got older and older, she certainly didn't stay still (much to Ruggie's dismay, who must have already caught his grandma cleaning the roof and yes, that already happened to my grandmother)
I hope you guys like it! Well, I'm definitely going to draw them more often, and please share your Headcanons about Grandma Bucchi!
the shelf life of those fantasies have expired ✧ cardan greenbriar
angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)
pairing: cardan greenbriar x fae!fem!reader
request: Cardan angst fic? 👀 - anon
summary: the goddess of timing once found them beguiling. she said she was trying. was she lying? his ribs get the feeling she did.
word count: 1,977
warnings?: angst city™, no happy ending, dual povs, mutual pining, miscommunication, not proofread
PART TWO | PART THREE


When she stood at his side, looked so…natural at his side, it was easy to find you comparing yourself to Jude Duarte. No one understood why Cardan made her his seneschal, not when they had seemed bitter enemies before the Blood Crown was perched atop his head. You didn’t understand, either. The most Cardan had confined in you was that Jude helped him get the crown. Everything else remained a mystery. You would pass gossiping fae, those who sought insight behind the High King’s actions, and not have a single clue what to say. You wished you could lie, if just to be able to say anything but cryptic excuses for why Cardan stopped confiding in you.
Once, you thought you might be the one standing at his side. Not as High Queen, of course—no one had ever dreamed that Cardan would sit on the throne. But he had been one of the few you would dare to call a friend. Before the crown was perched atop his head, you would’ve said he called you the same. Perhaps not in front of his other friends, or anyone else for that matter, but you used to be certain you meant something to him.
You weren’t sure why you were still here. The longer you stayed, the more your heart clenched in your chest. If you remained for just a moment longer, it would give out on you. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jude bend down to whisper something to Cardan. You didn’t feel in control of your hand as it snatched a goblet of wine. It was heavy in your hand, but it managed to ground you. To give you a reason to not collapse where you stood.
How had things changed so quickly? Just months ago, Cardan was sitting on your blanket during lessons, trying to see how many twigs he could stick in your hair before you would tell him to stop. You always tried to see how long it would take before he got bored of it. When did you become the one he grew bored of?
“Dance with me.”
You lifted the goblet up, your head tilting back, finishing your wine in a single go. You set it down on a table and stalked away. Cardan followed after you. You spared a glance at the throne, where Jude still stood. Exasperation was clear on her face. Whether it was directed at you or Cardan, you couldn’t say for certain. You knew enough of her skill with a sword, though, to stay away from her bad side.
“I am tired,” you said.
Cardan’s hand caught your wrist. Jaw clenching and unclenching, you were forced to remain at the ridiculous party. You should’ve stopped coming to them months ago, but these events were the only opportunity to catch a glimpse at your friend-turned-king.
“One dance,” he insisted.
“I would prefer to leave.”
His hand slipped to your wrist. Fingers intertwined. When you tried to pull away again, his grip tightened. Your eyes lifted to meet his. If you shut them, you could imagine all of your dreams were coming true. “I would prefer you in my arms.”
“You’re drunk.”
Cardan’s grip slackened enough for you to wrench your hand free again. “Would you deny your king?”
The nonanswer was answer enough. Fae cannot lie. Cardan cannot deny his inebriation. He cannot deny that the one reason he would talk to you now was because his senses were dulled. Cardan Greenbriar does not consider you a friend any longer, so why would he ever seek you out sober? You wished you were drunk, too. It would hurt less.
“Would my king force my hand?”
His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. The same lips a laugh fell from. You took a step back. He stepped toward you. “One dance,” he repeated.
By now, an audience had formed. You cared little for fae gossip, but if you tried to leave now, it would be impossible to escape those who wanted to know why you would deny the king. You held your hand out and let him take it. You ignored the way your heart stuttered as his thumb ran over your knuckles.
“One dance.”
The smile Cardan flashed you was enough to make your knees weak. For that, at least, you were grateful to lean against him as you danced. It was easy, then, to lose yourself to the music, to pretend that things were how they used to me. When Cardan was your friend, when you told each other everything. If you lost yourself enough, you could imagine a crown perched atop your head. Jude could still stand at Cardan’s side. She was a damned good seneschal. But you would be the one sitting on his other side.
Cardan spun you around the floor, a smile on his face. You pretended it was because he was happy to have you in his arms. “I only ever see you at these parties,” he said.
“To be a king is to have a busy life,” you said.
“I would make time for you.”
He would, but he hasn’t. Was he waiting for an invitation? Cardan never used to before. There were countless times you would awake to find him waiting for you at the foot of your bed. He never liked having to wait for you to ask for his attention. There was a time he freely gave it. Had the Blood Crown changed who he was? Did it force him to realize he could do better than you?
The song faded into another, and you slipped out of Cardan’s arms. His hands still chased after you, but you artfully dodged them. A lump formed in your throat that you were quick to swallow. Months ago, you would have dreamed about a moment like this. Now, it felt like Cardan was using as a placeholder. As a symbol for someone he would prefer to dance but would never give him the time of day.
You looked at the throne again. Jude watched Cardan. Her face was unreadable. It was no secret that fae looked down upon humans. You never fancied yourself that sort of person. Certainly not when it came to Jude Duarte. It took a special sort of person, fae or not, to capture the interest of a prince. If there was anyone who deserved it, it was her. If she was the one that Cardan wanted at his side, you would not stand in the way.
“It was nice to see you again,” you said, because you knew you would not see him after tonight.
“Have breakfast with me tomorrow. I’ll have the cooks make your favorites.”
You could not tell a lie, so you only offered a smile. “Sleep well, Cardan.”
Before he could say anything more, say anything that might delude you into staying, you turned and left. Not a single person stopped you along the way. Not a single one cared whether you stayed or left—least of all the one person you wished to beg for you.
By the time the sun rose again, you had left Elfhame.

Cardan Greenbriar drummed his fingers against the wood table. He had invited you to breakfast, hadn’t he? Wracking his still wine-addled brain, he tried to recall the conversation with you. Yes, he certainly said breakfast. Or had it been lunch? Cardan spared a glance out the window. The sun was nearly at its peak. Had he asked you to breakfast or lunch? Had he asked you anything at all?
At the sound of footsteps entering the room, Cardan jumped to his feet. When it turned out to only be Jude, he flopped back into his seat. He propped his elbow on the table, pressed his cheek into his fist.
“I didn’t realize my presence was so disappointing,” Jude said. Her eyes swept across the table, at the two place settings and the untouched food. The one thing that had moved was Cardan’s goblet, which had been refilled minutes earlier. “She didn’t come.”
Cardan gestured at the empty seat across from him.
“Are you certain you asked her?”
He nodded.
“And she said yes?”
Cardan began to say an exasperated yes, that he wasn’t an idiot, but as he replayed the events from the night before, he wasn’t so sure. “I asked her to breakfast,” he said, because he was certain of that. Jude arched a brow. “…and she told me to sleep well.”
Jude ran a hand over her face. “I knew you were hopeless, but I didn’t imagine you were a lost cause. Really, how did you manage to be with anyone?”
“I was a prince. They just fell into my lap.”
“Sometimes I wish you weren’t fae, because then I could believe that was a lie,” Jude said. She looked over at the empty seat. The seat that should have been filled by you. “I’m going to send the Ghost to see where she is. Perhaps she was too drunk last night to remember you invited her, or maybe her days are mixed up.”
Cardan frowned at the untouched food. “Maybe she realized she could do better than me.”
Jude reached for his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Cardan lifted his cheek from his fist and pressed it against her hand. If he shut his eyes, he could pretend it was you offering him comfort. “Whatever her reason, we’ll bring her here. We’ll figure things out.”
“I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her,” Cardan admitted.
“We won’t let it come to that. I won’t let it come to that.”
An hour later, the Ghost returned. The words still echoed in his head. She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone. He had gone to your home and found it empty. Everything important to you had been packed and taken away. The Ghost lied to him, of course. Well, perhaps it wasn’t a lie, since the Ghost didn’t know its importance. But you left one thing behind.
Cardan stood in your bedroom, staring at your vanity. It had been cleared of your favorite jewelry and other pretty things you adorned yourself with. It was empty, except for the ring that lay on its marble top.
Jude once told him, when he admitted your feelings for you, about how some humans would gift their beloved a ring as promise of their love. One ring as a promise of monogamy, another as a promise of marriage, and a final ring as a promise of eternal love. Cardan had taken great care in selecting a ring for you, bearing in mind your affinity toward certain metals and specific cuts of stone. He thought it was perfect. When he presented it to you, after he had been crowned High King, he told you he picked it especially for you. You smiled and slipped it on your finger, said it was perfect.
If it was so perfect, why did you leave it behind to collect dust?
Cardan picked up the ring. A part of him wanted to fling it across the room. If you were rejecting his love, then that was the least the ring deserved. He wanted the stone to shatter and the metal to warp. He wanted to reduce it to dust. He offered you his love, and you left it, and him, behind. But Cardan couldn’t find it in him to throw you away.
He slipped the ring onto his littlest finger. He was going to find you. He was going to find you, and drag you back to Elfhame and put that ring back on your finger where it belonged. You might have left him behind, but he wouldn’t let you stay away.
By the time the sun set, he had given orders to bring you home.

PART TWO | PART THREE


part 2 to my modern AU📘📗💕 (part 1)

Masterlist
Updated on - 20.05.24
Requests are currently closed whilst I work through the requests on my list🫶🏻
Series and Multi-Parts
A Fate Inked In Starlight - Ongoing
Eris x Fem!Reader x Azriel
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight (coming soon!!)
When I Kissed The Teacher - Ongoing
Azriel x Teacher!Reader
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four
Another Love - Complete
Azriel x Fem!Reader and Eris x Fem!Reader (Intermission)
Original Alternate Ending Intermission
New Pages - Paused
Modern!Az x Fem!Reader
Part One Part Two Part Three
The Fox and The Fawn - Ongoing
HighLord!Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve (Coming Soon)
One Shots and Drabbles
Eris
Wicked Game
Eris x CassianSister!Reader
Here
Dark Paradise
Eris x DayCourt!Reader
Here
Can't Keep My Hands To Myself
Modern!Eris x Reader
Here
Lost In The Fire
Eris x Fem!Reader
Here
Azriel
My Tears Are Becoming a Sea
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Here
Constellations
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Here
Darkest Hour
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Here
Work Song
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Here
Reckless
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Here
Moth To A Flame
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Here
Worthy
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Here
Say Yes To Heaven
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Here
Little Thing
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Here
Sparks
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Here
Sweet Creature
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Here
In This Shirt
Azriel x Rhys!Sister!Reader
Here
Shine
Azriel x Fem!Reader - SMUT
Here
You Are My Shelter
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Here
Cassian
Skin and Bones
Cassian x Fem!Reader
Here
White Flag
Cassian x Rhys!Sister Reader
Here
These Hallowed Halls
Cassian x Fem!Reader
Here
Arsonist's Lullaby
Cassian x Fem!Reader
Here
Helion
Precious Gifts
Helion x Fem!Reader
Here
Crescent City
Ruhn
10:35
Ruhn x Reader
Here
Upcoming
When I Kissed The Teacher Part 5
A Fate Inked In Starlight Part 8
'These Hallowed Halls' - Unnamed Eris version
Unnamed 'Princess of Hybern' Fic - Azriel x Reader pairing
Best Eris fanfic ever
Loving Flames | Part Two
Pairing: Eris x Reader
Summary: You leave Under the Mountain, going back to the Night Court... but there's a certain red head that still plagues your mind Requested by anon here.
Warnings: 18+ only, canon level violence, alludes to SA, Rhys is an asshole in this, a bit of angsty fluff and a lot of angst, slight claustrophobia, PTSD, (not proofread), let me know if anything was forgotten...
Word Count: 4k
Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.
Dividers from @saradika
Part One

You were in that room for the next 8 years, only going out when Amarantha commanded you to watch the tortures she knew you’d be tormented by the most. The faeries that had wings. Children. Families. You stood by Eris’s side, forced to watch as you clung to his arm. Your nails dug into his biceps so often when she was the most brutal that he had small scars there.
And his back, now. When he came back to the room from the healer that night, his entire back and chest was bandaged.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” He said to you when he found you with tears in your eyes, sitting on the bed.
“I couldn’t let her hurt you anymore. Not when it wasn’t your fault.” You said.
“She could still hurt you. She could command you out and force you to be whipped.” He said.
“I’d rather me than you.” You whispered, your knees tight to your chest.
“I wouldn’t.” He whispered. “I won’t be able to stand back and watch if she hurts you.” He said.
“Then kill her.” You simply stated, your eyes unfocused on the rug beneath the bed. “She can’t hurt you. Can’t have anyone else hurt you. Kill her and the threat ends.” You said.
Eris swore, ensuring the door was shut. He walked over to you, kneeling at your side. You felt him take your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “You can’t say things like that out loud… you have to be careful.” He said. “I won’t let her hurt you… and I promise to get you out of this room one day.”
Eris wasn’t able to keep that promise. Not until Feyre came along. But, with the tensions between the Autumn and the Spring Court, he didn’t help her at all. And you were confined to your room for all of it other than Feyre’s trials.
When Amarantha finally died, thanks to Tamlin, you felt your tattoo dissolve against your skin. You nearly collapsed on the ground at the thought of leaving this gods-forsaken mountain. Of never seeing it again. Of never being trapped in a bedroom again, or any room. Of feeling the wind against your skin.
But that meant leaving Eris. Once Rhys told you when you would leave, you went to the room. Your prison and sanctuary for so long. “Eris.” You whispered.
He turned around from where he stood before the dresser, contemplating if he wanted to burn the clothing. “I thought you’d be gone by now.” He said.
“I can’t leave without saying goodbye.” You said, nervously playing with your fingers. “I’m going to miss you…” you whispered, silver lining your eyes.
Eris looked at you again, immediately before you. He took your cheeks in his hands. “Don’t do that.” He whispered. “Don’t lie.”
“I’m not lying. I don’t want to go to the Night Court if it means I can’t be with you.” You whispered. “You were the best thing about this Mountain. The only thing that kept me sane.” You said, tears falling from your eyes.
Eris, tears welled in his own eyes, shook his head. “You will go to the Night Court. And if the Autumn Court ever needs an emissary, you will always be welcome.” He whispered. “You will live a good, happy life. One you don’t want me in.” He said.
“But I do.” You whispered. “I need you in my life, Er.” You said louder.
“Then come find me once you’re settled. You’ll be welcomed. But if for one moment you resent what you went through down here, if you resent me for what I did, please… spend your time with your family. In your home.” Away from his family. Away from the cruelty you would endure under his father. Especially if he knew you were mates.
You sniffed, wrapping your arms around his neck as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. "Thank you. For everything." You whispered, holding onto him tight. He held onto you like his life depended on it. This may very be the last time Rhys lets him see you. And he would remember the moment for the rest of his life.
You finally pulled away, wiping at the tears in your eyes. "I'll come back for you, Eris Vanserra." You said to him, cupping his cheek.
"And I'll never forget you, Princess." He said.
You let out a watery laugh before letting go over him, taking a few steps back before you turned around and left to the upper levels of the mountain. Where you would go home with Rhys. You knew in your heart, in your soul, that you would see Eris again. And not just for courtly activities, but as friends. And maybe... if you found the strength.. more.

You stayed in the Night Court, in Velaris, for four years. Meeting with Eris only for court purposes. And even then, Azriel, Cassian, or Rhys would be by your side, leading you away from them. No matter how much you tried to convince Rhys, and the others, that Eris never harmed you Under the Mountain, no one believed you. Expect for Mor, surprisingly. She was pretty easy to convince he did nothing to you, never laid a hand on you to harm you.
You were serving as the ever dotting Princess of the Night Court when the events with Feyre and her sisters happened. While each one of them tackled a challenge of her own, and ended up with their mates. Everyone was happy... You had a nephew and a family that adored you. And yet something was still missing.
You secretly wrote to Eris every week, it becoming your favorite time when one of his letter's would appear next on your nightstand. They became increasingly intimate, but never crossed the line of love.
One day, just a few months after Elain and Lucien's wedding/mating ceremony, Rhys said the Court would be meeting with Eris at the House of Wind. And while you were to stay in your old bedroom up there, you were not allowed to see him.
"Rhys, I'm not a child." You said, crossing your arms. "I'm the Princess of the Night Court. I should be there when you plot with our allies."
"Eris is not our ally... we have a tentative agreement with him." Rhys countered.
"That's the definition of an ally." You retorted. "And besides, I know him better than you all."
"You know him from the time he held you captive-"
"The time Amarantha held me captive," You corrected.
Rhys ignored you, continuing on, "You are biased."
You took a deep breath. "I will not be kept from this courts happenings because you believe me to be fragile. And I am certain Feyre will not agree with you locking me up in my room while you talk with the Heir to the Autumn Court." You said.
Rhys narrowed his eyes, but caved and said he would allow you to be present. Only if Azriel stayed by your side the entire night. You agreed, as Azriel was one of your closest friends and hadn't been as protective as the rest of them when it came to Eris. Maybe it's because his shadows detected you were telling the truth. Maybe they were keeping an eye on you all Under the Mountain for all those years. But either way, you didn't argue with having Azriel by your side.

Taking a deep breath, you smoothed down the loose pants and tight fitting shirt you had on. Your flats matched the attire perfectly, incorporating Night Court black with Autumn Court red. You even did your makeup and hair a little bit more like the Autumn Court style. You hadn't seen Eris since the war with Hybern two years ago. While you kept contact with him, you were excited to see him.
You walked out to the main sitting area where the meeting would be held. Eris was standing there, in an Autumn green tunic and tight fitting pants. His red hair was tousled slightly, and shorter than the last time you saw it. Lucien was next to him, and the rest of your family was scattered around the room.
As Eris turned to you and gave you that smile you missed so much, a string snapped on your gut. Your eyes widened slightly as you felt the bond become even stronger than before. He must have noticed, because you saw his breath hitch.
“Eris,” you whispered, tears brimming your eyes. “It’s good to see you.” You blinked a few times, taking a deep breath to keep your composure. If you and Eris showed any affection here, Rhys would probably throw Eris off the balcony.
“You too, princess.” He said it just above a whisper.
The rest of the room looked between the two of you, all of the tension in the room because of you.
“Come on,” Azriel said, causing you to flinch at his un expected touch. “Let’s sit down.” He whispered and then walked you over to the couch. You kept your eyes on Eris, heart beating out of your chest. To the rest of them, they probably thought you were terrified to see him. Even if you had been completely fine with seeing him in the past.
Rhys walked in with Feyre, narrowing his eyes as he saw Eris staring at you. And you staring back. But you were sat next to Azriel, Eris on the other side of the room, so he let it go. “Okay, let’s talk about how you’re planning to kill your father.” He said.
“Thank you for your warm welcome into your home.” Eris said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he finally tore his eyes from you and looked to your brother.
“My home.” Nesta corrected. The House of Wind was her and Cassian’s now. Azriel was in the Town Home with Gywn and you stayed with Feyre and Rhys in the River House.
“You truly have a plan to kill your father?” Lucien said. Your father. As he recently learned Helion was his dad and not Beron.
“Yes, it’s been in the works for sometime. And Autumn is in a good position right now for a take over.” He said, leaning back in the single chair he was in.
Cauldron, he looked magnificent. He had bulked up more, his biceps threatening to tear the undershirt he wore. You wouldn’t put it past him to wear a tighter shirt to show off. Or was it to impress you? Either way, you couldn’t help but admire him. The way his hair fell onto his forehead, even though it should’ve been slicked back. How the pants fit his thighs just right. And gods, the way that smirk played on his tips as he talked about his plans. He was happy to kill his father. He was doing it for you, though you didn’t know it.
You barely heard a word of what they said as you watched Eris. Your eyes never left him. To the others, again, it looked as if you were scared. But as Azriel glanced between the two of you, and caught some stolen looks from Eris to you, he knew it wasn’t fear that was keeping you quiet. It was affection. You couldn’t think of what to say, so you sat quietly and listened. Or, Azriel thought you were listening. You were just admiring your mate.
Eris was your mate. And you couldn’t wrap your head around it. He must have known… and not told you because of the tensions between Autumn and a Night. But still, how long had he known? Did he know when you were Under the Mountain? Before? Is that the only reason he was kind to you?
Thoughts raked your brain as you spiraled down into your mind, and Azriel was the first to notice your short breathing. “(Y/N)?” Azriel whispered.
You looked up to him, finally breaking your stare from your mate. “Do you want to leave?” He asked.
You shook your head, leaning back in the love seat as you finally started to listen to what they had to say.
Eris would kill his father within the week. And he was requesting help from the Night Court to help him do it. It would be by poison, at an Autumn ball in three days. That each Night Court member would be at. And everyone would play their part.
So, as you listened to the plan, you couldn’t help but wonder what this would mean for you. Would Eris want you to be his mate if he was High Lord? He certainly didn’t say anything to you… maybe he was just being nice because mates shouldn’t hurt each other. Maybe he doesn’t want anything to do with you.
You blinked as everyone stood up, and Rhys shook Eris’s hand tentatively. He whispered a ‘if you betray us, you die’ that wasn’t even a whisper, everyone heard it. And then Rhys walked out. You glanced to Azriel as everyone else walked out besides Eris.
“Az… can you give us a moment?” You asked quietly. Azriel looked between you and Eris skeptically. You noticed as his ears perked and his eyes widened slightly as his shadows told him something.
He gave a slight nod. “I’ll be right outside.” He said before turning around to leave. Once he was out of the room, you ran over to Eris. You slung your arms around his neck as he pulled you close to his chest, his arms around your waist in an instant.
“I’ve missed you.” You whispered against his neck.
You felt him smile against the top of your head, pressing a soft kiss there. “Me too, princess.” He whispered.
“How long have you known?” You asked as you pulled away. “About the bond?” Your voice was shaking, your eyes hoping for a good explanation.
“Since before your mother died… your first introduction to the Courts with your father. It snapped for me the moment I saw you.” He said and cupped your cheek when you pulled away. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew we couldn’t be together. Your father would never allow it. Your brother certainly wouldn’t.” He said.
“You didn’t think to tell me Under the Mountain?” You asked. You weren’t hurt about his secrecy, surprisingly. He had been protecting you for years. How could you be mad at him?
“I did… I wanted to so many times. But I didn’t want to force it on you down there. Or make it seem like I was trying to win you over. I just wanted you safe. And if Amarantha knew you were my mate, she might have done something to hurt you…” He said.
“I’m sorry I didn’t see it until now.” You said, leaning your forehead against his.
“I don’t want anyone to know. Not until my father is dead and he has no chance of using you against me.” Eris whispered.
“I want to accept it.” You whispered. “As soon as we’re both safe.” You told him, searching his eyes.
Neither of you had been remotely intimate. Hugging and sharing a bed was the extent to how you interacted Under the Mountain and after too. But now, you wanted to do everything with him. Wanted to kiss him, feel his warm lips on yours. You wanted him inside you, his flaming body against yours as you connected in a way no one else could. You wanted him to be your mate, officially. You wanted everything with him. Including children. A kingdom to rule, if he’d have you as his Lady.
Eris’s face at your words softened even more, tears lining his eyes. “Soon, I promise. But we will wait until after my father dies.” He said. “And when I am High Lord, we will accept it in whatever way you want. A large ceremony. A small one. You could give me a tree nut and I would be happy.” He said. “As long as I can be with you.”
“I don’t care. I just want to be your mate.” You told him.
“I’m glad we agree.”

After that week, and after the ball where Eris's father "unexpectedly" died from a heart problem, Beron's powers were passed to Eris. And now, the heir of the Autumn Court was no more, instead, he was the High Lord of Autumn. Your mate.
While you wanted to immediately mate him, Eris wanted to establish his court before announcing his Lady of Autumn. So, you needed to distract yourself. And it happened that Tarquin invited you to the Summer Court to help strategize their rebuilding of the city. In reality, you were going for a vacation to relax. And distract yourself.
So, as you were packing your bag, Rhys knocked on the door.
You turned, giving your brother a small smile.
"You sure you want to leave?" He asked you.
"Yes, I can't wait to lay on the beach and relax for two weeks." You said happily.
"I'm sure it's been hard for you this past week," he said.
“Why?” You asked, zipping up your bag before turning towards him.
“Because… of having to be around Eris.” Rhys said, as if it were obvious. Though, while it was hard being around Eris, he thought it was because of how Eris hurt you. For you, it was hard because you wanted to tell the world about your mate. And you couldn’t.
“It wasn’t, not for the reason you’re implying.” You said. “I like spending time with Eris. And I’ve told you countless times before, he never hurt me.” You said.
“He locked you away in a room.” He said.
“Amarantha locked me away in a room.” You said.
“Because of Eris. Because he was trying to get you outside.”
“Because of her. Not Eris. He was being whipped and I made a decision to not let him suffer.”
“Why?” Rhys demanded. “Why make yourself a prisoner for him? Why not let him bleed? He’s not a good male.”
“He is!” You said. “You see what you want to, Rhys. You can assume all you want to but I spent 50 years with him. He never once touched me without asking. Never once crossed a line. And he didn’t even do it because he was scared of you. He did it because he respects me. And he cares for me.” You said.
“Why would he? When you’re the sister of his enemy? He wouldn’t do anything if it wasn’t for his benefit?” He asked.
You took a deep breath. “He’s not as selfish as he seems, Rhys.” You said, crossing your arms. “Why did you help Feyre when she was the betrothed to your enemy?” You asked.
“That’s different. Feyre is my mate.”
You paused for a moment, trying to choose your words carefully. “But no matter how cruel of a male you seemed to the outside, you were always kind to her… other than making her drink on faerie wine and parading her around at night.” You said. “Eris never did that to me…”
“He still kept you with him all those years. He could’ve given you away, let you stay with me. He could’ve-“
“He was protecting me.” You simply stated.
“Why?”
“Because I’m his mate!” You yelled. You knew you were screwed the moment the words left your mouth. Why did you just say that?
Rhys blinked. The only way he showed his shocked. “No, he isn’t.” He said.
“Yes he is. The bond snapped for me last week.” You said. “Before he was High Lord.”
“He’s tricked you. You can’t be his mate.” He said.
“My walls are stronger than yours, Rhysand. He couldn’t trick me if he wanted to. I am his mate. And he is mine. And he took care of me when no one else did.” You said, holding your head high. “As soon as I get back from Summer, I am going to Autumn and offering him food.” You said.
“And what? Leave your home? For that family? For him?” Rhys growled.
“For my mate. For the male that protected me and helped me and kept me sane for 50 years. For him, the male I love.” You said.
“No,” Rhys said, shaking his head. “He isn’t your mate. He must have tricked you… you won’t be going to Autumn.” He said.
You rose your eyebrows. “And how are you going to stop me?” You asked.
“I won’t let you leave.” He said.
“What are you going to do? Restrict me to the Night Court?” You asked. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
“That’s not protection, Rhys. That’s imprisonment.” You said, searching his eyes. It occurred to you then that he might not be kidding. Rhys was notoriously protective of you. And he would go to far lengths to keep you from harm in his mind.
“You won’t leave this room, (Y/N), unless you promise you won’t go to Autumn.” He said.
“I won’t promise that. I’m not going to stay away from my mate.” You said. “And you can’t keep me here.”
“I will.” He said, taking a step out of your room.
“And what are you going to do? Block my path all night?” You asked, seething.
“No. There are wards around your room now. If you try to leave, you’ll see what happens.” He said.
Your eyes widened at the thought of being trapped in a room. “What?” You asked, your voice cracking.
“Unless you agree to never accept the bond with Eris, you’ll be in this room. And the wards won’t let anyone else but me in and out.” He said.
Your breathing started to quicken, walking towards the door but stopping right in front of it. “Rhys, do not lock me in this room.” You said, tears brimming your version.
“Do you promise to not go to Autumn? To not mate with Eris?” He asked.
“No.” You said quietly.
“You’re meant to be gone for two weeks. I’ll come back then to see if you’ve changed your mind.” He said.
“Rhys, please.” You begged, stepping forward again. You watched as he walked away, your breath catching in your throat.
“Rhys!” You yelled, taking a step to leave the room but coming in contact with a clear hard wall. “Rhys!” You sobbed, backing on the invisible door. You took a step back, trying to find your breath. “Rhysand!” You yelled again, only for your door to slam shut in front of you.
You fell to the floor, banging on the door. “Rhys!” You begged again, leaning your forehead against the. Your vision blurred, the walls closing in on you. Suddenly, you were back Under the Mountain. Trapped in that room with no wind or no windows. Eris healing from his wounds.
Your sobbed shook your body as you tried to breath. You closed your eyes as you sunk to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest.
"Rhysand!" You let out a scream, so primal and raw that your throat strained.
You continued shaking, sobbing, hyperventilating as you rock yourself back and forth. You tried to convince yourself you were safe. You weren't hurt. But you couldn't leave. Couldn't get out of this room if you tried. You couldn't see your mate.
Your sobs overtook your breaths as you lost focus, shaking at the feeling of desperation. You were trapped in this room. You couldn't get out. Wouldn't get out unless you promised something terrible to your brother. Your brother who you thought loved you. But someone who loved you wouldn't do this. They wouldn't trap you in a room after what happened Under the Mountain. What would Feyre do when she found out about this? Would Rhys keep you here longer than 2 weeks? Would you be trapped here forever.
The walls continued closing in on you as your mind spiraled deeper and deeper. When you had the strength to open your eyes, the room was dark. Your powers couldn't get you out, but they consumed you. The darkness wasn't welcomed though. It only made your breath quicken more. No light. No windows. No Eris.
How would you live like this?

A/N: GODS this was a good one to write... can you imagine what Eris is going to do when he finds out what Rhys did????
Join the taglist here (I will not be adding people from the comments)
Tagging (thank you for all your lovely comments, they fuel my writing for the better every day): @96jnie @rcarbo1 @circe143 @bookwormysblog @stuff-i-found-while-crying @acourtofbatboydreams @glitterypirateduck @optimistic-but-very-realistic @minaethrym @herondale-lightworm @saltedcoffeescotch @faridathefairy @alliex-o @mariahoedt @falszywe @d3ad-ins1de @anyzandy @mulledwinetea @myromanempiree @ysmtttty @dumblani @brighterthanlonelythoughts @micaxrocky @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @windblownwinston @the-golden-jhope @alittlelostalittlefound @homeslices @todaystheday @quackquackhun @Kayhud05 @forgiveliv
Reading list
The Lady of Midgard: Part 1
Chapter list
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader
Summary: Your world was your world. Anything exciting happened in books and movies. Magic, monsters and gods didn't exist, they were the stuff of legends or so you thought but what if stories change based on who’s telling it? Sometimes myths are twisted to hide the truth.
When a freak accident sees you and your son being transported to their world, can you survive the ups and downs of palace life.
Accidents happen for a reason.
Who are you really and will certain truths be revealed.
Warnings: 18+ fic minors DNI. See master list for overall story themes.

Chapters
Prologue / 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25 / 26 / 27 / 28 / 29 / 30 / 31 / 32 / 33 / 34 / 35 / 36 / 37 / 38 / 39 / 40 / 41 / 42 / 43 / 44 / 45 / 46 / 47 / 48 / 49 / 50 / 51 / 52 / 53 / 54 / 55 / 56 •
You Can Wrap Me 'Round Your Finger...
You’re having a crisis trying to pick the perfect moment to tell Loki you love him. Loki is having a crisis, too, except his is decidedly way more embarrassing. Also, your pillows keep disappearing.
(aka - frost giant biology is weird and Loki has to suffer the consequences.)
a companion to Love at First Sight (or should I walk by again?) - can be read on its own!
Chapter 1 / 2 -- read it on AO3 here
Word count: ~5k
Warnings: fem reader; Loki is CLINGY
You could just make out the rosy hue of a late-season snowfall from your vantage point behind the cockpit; it blanketed the city, turning the streets a pale orange where streetlamp light reflected off of a crisp, white coat. For a city that never slept it was strangely quiet; at just past three o’clock in the morning, not even the snow plows were out yet.
Your team was returning from a four day long deployment to San Francisco – a retrieval mission where you were tasked with tracking down and seizing off-world cargo. It had gone over surprisingly well - zero casualties, a handful of actual combat incidents, and a scant few million dollars worth of petty property damage. It did require a proper cargo plane, though, which meant that the team had to rely on a local airplane hangar to get back home.
(Despite his truly unparalleled complaining, Tony’s choice to put the Avengers tower in the centre of a busy New York metropolitan block meant that there were certain restrictions - namely, the laws of physics - that limited the size of plane they could have on-site).
An unfortunate consequence of it all was that you were freezing. You made a face and folded your arms over your chest; you were dressed for a late February chill, in tac-pants and a knit sweater, not a snowstorm. As romantic as the snow looked, the cold was settling over you like an ache. Coupled with the early-hour and a tender bruise on your left side, your mood was only souring. You cast your eyes to the ceiling and prayed that a car was already waiting for you on the tarmac.
The quin-jet touched down a little roughly; you felt Wanda’s wince without looking at her, but Tony immediately came to her defense. “No, that was because of the snow. Poor visibility. Out of your control. Definitely. I’m passing you with flying colours - hey, get it?”
The loading ramp slid open with a pop and a hiss; your ears felt funny now that you were on solid ground, like they were full of cotton. Natasha tugged on her earlobes, then reached over and tugged on Steve’s too to be a pest. He swatted her away with a scowl.
Moments later, attendants began to climb the loading ramp in groups of two. You scowled. They were at least dressed for the weather.
You pulled your hands from between your thighs, trying to focus on anything other than the way your core muscles were tensed against the chill, and thanked whatever powers-that-be that you could finally go home. You were half way through unbuckling your seatbelt when an automated voice warned you from overhead not to leave your seats.
“Sorry, everyone,” Tony called. “Safety or whatever. All cargo has to be removed before we can get up. Just a few minutes. You’ll be warm and in bed in no time.”
A familiar voice cut through the chatter. “I was beginning to think I’d have to go collect you myself.”
Crossing the jet in long strides, tall enough to peer over most attendants' heads, was Loki. Your boyfriend.
Dressed in civilian clothing, Loki was something resplendent. His pale skin, warmed by the cool twilight haze outside, was a stark relief against his mop of riotous dark curls, and his green eyes caught the light in a mysterious way. A pair of neatly-polished shoes rattled the grated floor as he approached, weaving in between attendants, until he came to a stop at your side. With a wave of his hand, Loki manifested a fine wool cloak to drape over your shoulders. His long fingers drew the golden hook at the collar through its eye and smoothed it flat against your sternum.
“Can’t have you freezing to death,” he murmured.
You thumbed the stitching along the hem of the cloak; the thread was such a dark green that it almost blended in with the black fabric. “I would have been fine.”
“Well, if you’re too warm, I can certainly help cool you down.” Loki slid into the seat next to you and blew an icy breath across your neck, making you shriek. The grin he shot you was lecherous - truly vile , you mumbled - and sent a hot thrill from your nape to the pit of your belly.
“You are evil.”
“You should have me locked up.”
You pulled the collar of his cloak up to your face, pressing the velvety edge to your mouth. “I’m putting in a request immediately.”
Loki offered you his wrists, that sticky grin growing even wider. “Why wait?”
A flash of green seidr crackled suggestively, implying where a set of handcuffs might bind him. Your eyes snapped to the whirlwind of snow outside, cheeks hot.
Tony gagged obnoxiously from the pilot’s seat. The comms system crackled to life overhead. “Get a room, you two.”
Loki scoffed, mock affront dripping from his lazy posture, and poured himself over your shoulders, even though the armrest was in the way and was without a doubt digging into his side. He plucked your hand from your lap, lacing his fingers through yours and drawing it up to his mouth. His lips idly traced the edge of his signet ring on your thumb while you watched the cargo roll by, box by painstaking box.
You had only been dating for a few months, having finally confessed your mutual attraction after a tumultuous, alcohol-fueled evening together. It turned out that the entire time that you had been harbouring a monumental crush on Loki, he’d been just as gone on you - a fact you hadn’t known, since his idea of showing interest was to give you shiny rocks and hand feed you foods, and yours was whatever Tinder had going on.
Once the two of you had gotten over your - admittedly pretty embarrassing - communication barrier, you fell into a nice routine. You found that you were more confident without the weight of an unrequited crush looming over you, and Loki was eons more likely to finish his paperwork as long as you were there to play footsie with him under the table and let him ramble every fifteen minutes. He still flirted with everything that moved, but you recognized the nuances of his affection now. He never touched anyone, but he hung off of you like a limpet; he might smile and schmooze at parties, all lecherous grins and innuendo, but his eyes always sought your approval out after every punchline; and he only ever called you pet.
(And on one occasion, master. But that was a different story.)
Once the attendants had unloaded the last crate into a van, Tony gave everyone the OK to exit the plane without worrying about being trampled. Steve was the first out, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Natasha, Bruce and Tony were quick to follow, all stumbling into the first car they saw, while Wanda stayed and fiddled with a few switches from the co-pilot’s seat. Under Natasha’s suggestion, she was trying to get a proper license to fly - mostly for paperwork-related reasons, because the insurance company charged a fortune every time an Avenger ‘borrowed’ a vehicle without permission.
Before you could protest, Loki scooped up the duffle bag at your feet and started down the loading ramp into the storm, leaving you and Wanda as the last on the plane. You rapped your knuckles against the ceiling and sent her a questioning look. Decked out in her oversized headset and a fuzzy quarter-zip sweater Tony had commissioned for the team, she looked right at home behind the quinjet control panel. She shot you a thumbs up, gesturing for you to go on ahead. You blew her a quick kiss and then hurried after Loki, fighting to keep the cloak shut against the blustering wind.
Wet snow crept under your pant legs, clinging unpleasantly to the strip of skin left exposed by your socks. Loki had already packed your belongings away in the farthest van and was waiting by the back door, held open for you. You jogged - as best you could given the weather - the last couple of feet and slid into the backseat.
Loki hauled himself through the other door a moment later. The driver - a bored looking man with a dark beard and greying temples - pushed the stick shift into gear and turned off the runway.
You shivered, brushing clumps of snow off your ankles. Dark stains were climbing up your shins where the it bled through. Loki leaned across the seat to help you, running a shimmering hand over your shoulders to dry you off.
Mostly satisfied, you sank back and watched the city roll by, the empty streets cast in shades of neon as the snow reflected billboards and store displays. It was a beautiful sight, the kind of morning you would normally want to commit to memory for the postcard-ness of it all – except you were exhausted and a little cranky, so you turned your eyes to stare at your boyfriend instead.
(You made it a full three minutes without looking at him - a new personal record.)
You admired him the way an owner might creep up on a beloved pet in a sunbeam; you didn’t want him to know you were looking, in case he spooked and moved, so you kept your cheek turned and watched from the corner of your eye. He was deep in thought, luckily, which gave you some leeway to admire his profile. There was something decidedly boyish about him when he was relaxed, a softness you so rarely got to see; it made you want to kiss every inch of him just for the sake of kissing.
He drew an aimless pattern with his thumb across your upper thigh. His pinky finger was stretched comically far from the rest of his fingers, as if willing your hand to reach out and intertwine but too stubborn to ask. For a silly, love-sick moment you were overwhelmed by the need to tell him you loved him - and then your brain caught up with your heart and bludgeoned it into submission.
The knowledge that you were in love with him and the nebulous un-knowledge of how he felt about you was starting to wear on your nerves. You understood logically that he liked you - enough to court you, under different circumstances - but what you felt when you looked at him was a hurricane of emotions, a self-sustaining cycle of hot air up and cold air down, whipping the sea so hard that it formed storm clouds unbidden by the laws of nature. You knew that he felt things differently, had lived a dozen of your lifetimes no doubt filled with pretty things. Would this change your relationship? Would you breaking that last barrier make yourself less desirable somehow?
You wanted to tell him. To share the inherent joy of being in love.
It just scared you to death, was all. No big deal.
His mouth twitched; his eyes caught yours in the window’s reflection as the car entered the dark parking garage. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Nothing,” you squeaked. “Just tired. Sorry.”
The car dropped you off in the underground parking of the Avengers’ tower. Yours was the last of the convoy, so you and Loki slipped out of the car into an empty lot where only a few strangler attendants were unloading and taking inventory. You held one corner of the cloak in your hand, worried it would drag through the slush puddles tracked in by the cars. Loki’s hand came to rest on the small of your back while he hoisted your bag over his shoulder.
“After you, pet.”
You led him to the elevators, where you leaned against the railing and let your eyes slip shut. Loki selected a floor and then joined you, draping one arm around your shoulders to draw you into his chest.
You leaned your cheek against him. Now that you were home, the full weight of your exhaustion was bearing down on you. The pattern of knots Loki was drawing across the back of your neck wasn’t helping. You were suddenly grateful for the support of Loki’s body under you, solid and steady; you slid your hands under his jacket to hug him… then paused.
Something was… off.
You pulled back and gave him a once-over. Nothing outwardly betrayed him as different. He wore a pair of simple, straight-leg tac-pants and a white t-shirt under a brown vintage-style bomber he’d no doubt swiped from Bucky or Steve; the cut of each item flattered his narrow build exceedingly, a fact you knew he was aware of by the way he kept glancing at you during your drive home. His hair was wild and unstyled in a hopelessly endearing way - a look he’d taken to wearing often after you made a passing comment about liking it that way.
The jacket though…
He filled it out well. Too well.
“You’re bigger,” you blurted out.
Loki raised one eyebrow in a perfect, mocking arch. “Excuse me?”
“You’re,” you waved your hand up and down his body, “bigger. Like, broader. Have you been working out more?”
Loki glanced down at his chest. “No?”
You pushed the jacket off his shoulders to get a better look at him. The white cotton of his t-shirt puckered across his chest, wrinkling under the strain of an extra inch or so of muscle, and the side seams were pulled so taut that you could see the thread. You poked him right over his heart, admiring a new, plush firmness.
The tips of Loki’s fingers wormed under your shirt. His smile took on a wicked edge as he soaked in the sight of you in front of him. When you shot him a look, he screwed his face up into something resembling innocence. “If you’re going to ogle me like a piece of meat, I think it’s only fair that I get to admire you, too.”
You hummed and slipped his jacket back into place, smoothing your palms down his chest to rest just above his waistband. Loki’s evilness washed away to something sticky sweet; he slid his hand up between your shoulder blades, his fingers splayed wide to admire the shift of your muscles under your skin. His other hand twined with yours to lift your knuckles to his mouth.
The doors slid open on his floor. With a flourish and a fleeting kiss, Loki stooped to collect your bag. His free hand trailed behind him, outstretched for you to take, but you lingered with a smile and a shake of your head.
He came to an abrupt stop under the threshold, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He wiggled his fingers, as if you were refusing because you’d missed his offer to hold your hand. “What are you doing?”
You pressed the button for your floor. “I’m going back to my room.”
“No,” Loki whined, his hand still outstretched. “Please, darling.”
You rolled your eyes and attempted to pull your bag from his hands. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Loki.”
“But you’ll miss out on my new, broader body. Your bed will seem extra empty now in comparison. You should just skip the trouble.”
“Loki, I’m tired. And all my stuff is in my apartment.”
“You can wear something of mine.” Loki, exasperated, threw your duffle down in front of the elevator door and cornered you against the railing.
“Just for the night, Loki.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth, one he didn’t return… and then seemed to regret, because only a heartbeat after you pulled away he was on you, cupping your face between both his hands and swiping his tongue across your bottom lip. You huffed out a sigh and pushed on his stomach; he managed to get two more kisses in before you finally won and put some distance between the two of you.
In a perfectly Loki-fashion, Loki sulked. He stomped out of the elevator and then turned to you, his hands firmly on his hips. “You vex me. Understand that I will be taking you out for breakfast tomorrow, no exceptions.”
You hooked a finger through your bag strap, dragging it back into the elevator. “Make it a late lunch. If you wake me before noon there will be punishments.”
Loki’s eyes twitched with the briefest hint of a smirk. His voice dropped an octave. “Promise?”
The elevator doors slid shut on his leering expression. You spent the rest of the ride valiantly trying not to fall asleep. The low hum of its engine was terribly soothing.
When the elevator opened to your floor, you weren’t surprised to find PAL - Tony’s Paperwork Assistant Lite robot, who usually helped organize and retrieve files in the office downstairs - waiting by your door. Measuring just under two feet tall, PAL could navigate the halls and elevator just fine as long as FRIDAY was willing to unlock the doors for him, but your manual lock-and-key front door was an insurmountable obstacle for him.
“How long have you been here, buddy?”
As soon as he recognized you, PAL trilled with delight. His metal chassis vibrated with the effort of waiting by the door. He rounded your feet while you dug through your pants pockets for your keys, narrating the week to you in his language of whistles and beeps, and raised his tiny paper tray, straining to try and take over the weight of your duffle bag. You huffed out a laugh, leaning ever-so-slightly to the side to set it on him but not to smother; the LED display on his face narrowed, as if he was concentrating very hard on not dropping your belongings.
As soon as you were through the door, you threw your bag by your shoe rack and toed off your sneakers, leaving them in a pile on the floor. PAL set to straightening them, sweeping them to the wall with his tray ahead like a snowplow. He tried to do the same to your bag, but his treads could only pinwheel against the weight.
You stood in the living room for a moment and folded Loki’s cloak over the back of your couch, contemplating skipping your whole routine and going straight to bed. You settled on missing a shower but washing your face - everything else could be dealt with in the morning. You made your way to your bedroom in search of clean pyjamas, then continued to the bathroom to brush your teeth, PAL close on your heels.
You had just exited the bathroom when someone knocked on your door. You tossed your washcloth into a bin on top of your washing machine and rounded the hallway to answer it.
Loki stood on the other side, dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and an oversized AVENGERS TACTICAL UNIT t-shirt. “Please, darling.”
“You have your own bed.”
“It’s too big without you.”
“You’re even bigger now. You’ll fill it out just fine.”
Loki stepped into your personal space; he hadn’t even bothered putting on shoes, wearing only a pair of grey wool socks. His hands curled around your hips as if to steady himself. “I’m afraid of the dark?”
“Try again.”
“My room was taken over by starving wolves while you were away and I only narrowly escaped.”
You sighed. You had to admit that it felt nice to have him in your arms like this, even if you knew giving in would only encourage him to lord over more of your time. “Absolutely no funny business, Loki.”
An incandescent grin split his face in two. He swooped in to kiss your cheek, then sauntered off toward your bedroom. You locked the door, made sure PAL was settled into his charging dock for the night, and then followed after your boyfriend.
You found him curled up on the side of your bed closest to the door, facing you, and holding one of your pillows hostage. He buried his nose in the fabric, a pleased sound rumbling through his chest, and watched you approach.
You swatted at him, not even bothering to round the bed, opting to crawl over his body to reach your side. Loki unfolded, abandoning the pillow to gather you up instead; his arms circled your waist and tugged you into his chest in an awkward collision of limbs, legs tangling in the comforter. You squirmed while he maneuvered you to his liking, tucking the length of his body around you tightly and nosing at the junction of your throat and jaw.
“Loki,” you chided. “I said no funny business.”
“This is a perfectly serious matter.” Loki untangled himself from you just long enough to pull the comforter over your body before sliding in beside you. One hand returned to your neck, tipping your chin back so he could press a loud kiss to your pulse point. “You don’t have enough blankets.
You stifled a yawn and pushed him to lie on his back, draping one leg over his. “Why’s that?”
Loki continued to rearrange the sheets with a scowl. “You’ll freeze to death under this thing.”
Already, your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. You hummed. “I feel like I had more pillows than this. Maybe I’ve finally lost it.”
A small voice in the back of your mind whispered that you loved him, you loved him, you loved-
You settled with tracing a heart over his collarbone, over and over until you fell asleep.
You woke to the sound of FRIDAY’s voice through the PA system. “Mr. Laufeyson, your presence is being requested on the thirty-first floor. Mission briefing in fifteen minutes.”
You peeled your eyes open. You could tell by the slant of the sun through the curtains that it was past noon - a small victory, really. Behind you, Loki burrowed deeper into the fabric of your t-shirt, nosing along the ladder of your spine while groaning his displeasure. He drew the comforter around you tightly, trapping you under one muscular arm with a vengeance.
His voice, still deep and rasping with the last threads of sleep, rumbled through his chest. “Good morning, dear heart.”
Lovesickness bloomed like a bruise in your chest. “Morning,” you said, instead of I love you.
You half-turned and pecked the side of his mouth before sitting up. Loki made an affronted sound and reeled you back in by a fistful of your t-shirt, sending you sprawling halfway across his chest. He kissed you soundly, licking into your mouth with a low groan.
You blinked up at him once he pulled back. “Um. Good morning?”
“I was a perfect gentleman all night and you reward me with a peck. ” A scowl twisted his pretty face, petulance dripping off him in droves. His hands slid over your ass possessively, kneading the soft flesh with purpose. “I should have you flogged for that. Put over my knee.”
“Patience is a virtue,” you mumbled.
“Wrong faith, pet. Now- wait, where are you going?”
You paused, halfway through peeling yourself out of his arms (again), and pointed at the ceiling where FRIDAY’s voice reminded him that he was needed in thirteen minutes, Mr. Laufeyson . ”You have a debrief and I have a date with my coffee pot.”
“Not after you so callously rejected me. Come down here and make it up to me.”
You rolled your eyes and leaned in to kiss him again, slowly but deeply. Loki chased your mouth when you pulled away, frustration evident in the heavy way he sighed. Lifting you by the hips, Loki deposited you in his lap and held you there, digging his thumbs into the plush of your sides. Using the resulting sigh to his advantage, Loki cradled the back of your head and bullied your lips apart, pulling a sticky kind of want from your chest, leaving you dizzy and aching all at once.
When FRIDAY gave him a five minute warning, blinking the emergency strobe in the corner of your bedroom for good measure, Loki finally drew himself away and let you catch your breath. His head tipped back against the pillow, his throat on display in a long submissive line, and his shiny mouth parted in a groan. He mumbled something in his mother tongue, your name nestled right between lilting consonants.
“What was that?”
“Nothing important.”
“One day you’ll teach me what you’re saying,” you grumbled. “And then I’ll know all your secrets.”
Loki lazily arched one brow, smothered behind a curtain of riotous curls. “Is that so? All of them?”
“Mhm. All of it. Every last one.”
You traced a finger down the line of his nose. If ever there was a moment to tell him you loved him, now was probably it. Here, on the laziest of saccharine mornings, while the city outside was muted by a thick wall of snow and you were both ignoring responsibility to enjoy the other. And yet– doubt wove its way through your ribs, tying knots in the hollow spaces in your chest; you rolled off of him and sat up, pulling the hem of your shirt down where it had ridden up. “FRIDAY is going to bring the appliances to life if you don’t leave soon.”
Loki poised himself on the edge of your bed and snagged your wrist when you rounded it. There was nothing to the gesture – no comment, no complaint to make. He held onto you for the simple joy of owning a second of your time.
As if one cue, PAL rolled through your bedroom door, his little paper tray aloft. He chirped in greeting, then ran head-long into one of the bed frame’s legs.
You tamped down a lingering disappointment. Later. You would tell him later.
“Pest.” Loki swatted at PAL, who had taken to repeatedly bumping into Loki’s shins to convince him to get dressed. You gasped scoldingly when Loki shot a warning green spark in the robot’s direction; PAL, undeterred, narrowed the LED display on his face and wound up, knocking the god extra hard for good measure.
“PAL, go sit in the living room. You can pick something on Netflix for us to watch. And you,” you pointed a finger at Loki. “No threatening the robot.”
You left him to dig through your closet for something to wear; the far corner was steadily developing a growth of black, Loki-sized clothing. While you busied yourself with the coffee machine, PAL chirped at the TV and then parked himself in front of your window with his face pressed against the glass. Once your coffee was poured, you left out the gaudiest mug you owned – chipped, declaring you were Thor’s Number One Fan!, which Loki hated with a burning passion – and a spoon for when he joined you.
PAL beeped distractedly when you joined him by the window; there was a tender tilt to his little head as he gazed out, studying a pair of birds who had built their nest just below. His body shuddered, as if sighing, and his LED display blinked one long, slow blink.
It started as a tiny bundle of twigs a few weeks ago, trembling in the wind but shielded from the elements in the nook between a metal support beam and the windowsill. Then a few pieces of long grass were woven in, and a handful of fresh green branches, still flexible in their newness. They must have finished their home while you were away; two mates were deep under the spell of a snowy Sunday morning, bundled up under a layer of down and straw.
A solid pair of arms wound around your waist, drawing you backwards into an equally solid chest. Loki’s hair was damp where he’d run wet fingers through it, no doubt trying to contain the curling mess of bed head he woke up with every morning. It clung to your cheek a bit, the crown of his head pressed up to your face while he nosed at your shoulder. “Oh, hi– hello.”
“I don’t want to go,” Loki whined. He rocked you gently from side to side, resting his cheek against yours. “We should feign illness. It’s dreadfully contagious. And then we can—” a kiss, just under your ear, “stay in bed all day. To recuperate, of course.”
“As lovely as that sounds, you really do have to go. You know how Steve gets when you’re late.”
“As soon as I can I’m coming right back up here to ravish you. That’s a promise.”
PAL cooed, excited by some small movement from the birds. One of them had woken to preen the other, sweetly running its beak through its feathers.
“Look at their little nest. How cozy,” you said quietly. “Maybe that’s where my pillows went.”
The longer Loki considered the birds, the deeper the furrow between his brows grew. He seemed to be having a revelation of some kind. “I… have to speak with my brother about something.”
“Something wrong?”
“No. Just a thought. Don’t worry.”
PAL rolled backwards into Loki’s shins with purpose. He chirped sternly, as if chiding Loki in his machine-speak, who, in return, toed PAL’s chassis very gently in warning.
You laughed. “He’s coming, buddy.”
“Actually,” Loki muttered darkly. “On the contrary. My problem is that I’m not-”. You suspected the next words out of his mouth would have been incredibly inappropriate, had PAL not rolled pointedly over Loki’s foot.
You exited the elevator on the 31st floor a few hours later. A far cry from Tony’s party, the room was empty and mostly tucked away; chairs were stacked on tables and the bar was cleared of bottles; bright, unfiltered sunlight poured through the enormous lofted windows, allowing you an unobstructed view of the skyline and the meandering streets below. A couple of interns were having lunch on one of the couches in the corner. They must have been part of the newest wave of college recruits, because their eyes lingered in a starstruck kind of way that made you feel a little embarrassed.
You shot them a playful salute. Both startled, turning away in a rush.
Oh well. You couldn’t look Steve in the eyes for your first week on the team– you got it.
You found Loki in the farthest conference room, sat at the end of a long, round table between Steve and Bucky. You watched their fingers walk across its surface, handing a piece of folded paper between the three of them. Steve wrote something while the speaker was turned, then slipped his hand surreptitiously under the desk. Bucky coughed; from your vantage point, you saw his and Loki’s fingers unravel the note so they could read it discreetly.
Some executive droned at the other end, gesturing to a dreadfully laid out powerpoint. Matching manilla folders were spread open in front of the agents; you had a sneaking suspicion that whatever the speaker was saying was also written down and could have been read in half the time this meeting took.
You tried to catch Loki’s eye through the window but his attention was aimless, lost in some faraway place. A thought came to you; you rearranged your belongings to clasp your hands in front of you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you prayed - albeit poorly - to the god sitting a few dozen feet from you.
You peeked through one eye to see if it had worked; through the glass, Loki shot you a private smile, so sweet that it was practically a kiss. You waved him over, jerking your head toward the conference room door.
You watched him interrupt the speaker, his lazy posture rolling forward until he was sitting straight. Steve and Bucky nodded sagely, immediately following whatever story Loki had spun. Bucky pointed exaggeratedly to his metal arm, rubbing it as if it was tense. The speaker, clearly annoyed,
The door opened and Loki slipped out into the hallway to meet you. Your grin bordered on becoming painful. Both your hands were folded behind your back. “You didn’t have breakfast this morning.”
“Observant.” He plucked a loose thread from the collar of your shirt and flicked it aside before leaning in for a quick kiss. You decided, even if you couldn’t say you love him, to treat him no less lovingly; you chased him when he pulled away, pressing your lips to his jaw. His grin was dazed, like you’d turned him dumb with the simple act of wanting him. “You’re even lovelier than the last time I saw you.
“I brought you something. Pick a hand.”
Loki walked his fingers down your left arm and pulled; you let him have it, your palm open – and empty. “Oh, that’s too bad.”
“Hmm. Terrible luck.” His knuckles dragged down the length of your other arm. In that hand was a take-out container from your favourite coffee shop, defaced with a smiley-face and cute message from the barista, Yvonne. It was his usual order, nothing special, but when his eyes tipped up to meet yours, there was something uncharacteristically open about his expression, a shy edge to the tilt of his smile. He leaned in and kissed you, soft and sweet like honey. “Do you think they’ll notice if I’m gone much longer?”
“Absolutely.”
Loki groaned, tipping your hips until they were flush to his. He kissed you hard enough to bend you backwards.
“I’ll come by your apartment tonight and we can get dinner?”
His fingers stilled where they were kneading your sides. “Yes, about that. Let’s… Let’s stay at yours tonight. The wolves that chased me out last night haven’t been evicted yet.”
Loki's answer confused you – he’d spent the entire night complaining that you wouldn’t go back to his room, then insulting your blanket choices, and now he wanted to stay at yours? “Ok. That works. Is everything okay?”
“Fine,” he said quickly. “Perfectly fine. You’re so tired though. Easier to stay where your belongings are. I won’t– won’t make you commute.”
You eyed him suspiciously. “Behave today.”
Another groan, this one pitched low; Loki traced your cheek with his nose. “I love it when you order me around.”
“Loki! Be-have.”
“Just one more, nymph. To tide me over.”
You sent him off with three more kisses. You were starting to wonder if you were too lenient with him; he delighted in taking advantage of your weakness to weasel more affection out of you. He returned to the conference room with his little box, opened in his lap under the table. When Bucky made to swipe a grape, Loki flicked his hand away with a glare.
When you returned to your room that evening, with Loki hot on your heels and his hands already halfway up your shirt, you were baffled to find your bed down one more pillow.
“PAL, did you do this?”
He shook his little head, LED screen blinking wide doe eyes up at you. It was the strangest thing, but when he thought you weren’t looking, you could have sworn that he shot Loki a pointed look.

Dad!Seb proving that he can carry ALL of his children 😤




ACOTAR TIMELINES
Click for enlarged images. We know events occurred between the war and UtM like Cassian trapping Lanthys or seeing Bryaxis, but no information on dates. As you can see from the third picture, the bulk of ACOWAR occurs over a single month.


It's a date! 🍔✨



“Night Triumphant - and the Stars Eternal. If he was the sweet, terrifying darkness, I was the glittering light that only his shadows could make clear.”
Rhys and Feyre. High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court. Night Triumphant and the Stars Eternal.
My parents 🧎♀️🤍 _ A Court of Mist and Fury dust jacket illustration for @atouchofmagicdesigns by @frostbite.studios (she's the beeeeest).
julia’s favorites — the collection !

masterlist of my fic recommendations !

♕ collection i
↳ includes — marauders / harry potter, marvel, jujutsu kaisen, top gun / top gun: maverick, criminal minds, genshin impact, bridgerton, call of duty, attack on titan
↳ total fics — 66
♕ collection ii
↳ includes — tokyo revengers, jujutsu kaisen, criminal minds, marvel, attack on titan, marauders / harry potter, outer banks, top gun / top gun: maverick
↳ total fics — 43
♕ collection iii
↳ includes — marvel, jujutsu kaisen, call of duty, my hero academia, tokyo revengers, marauders / harry potter
↳ total fics — 48
♕ collection iv
↳ includes — jujutsu kaisen, criminal minds, marvel, marauders, genshin impact, call of duty, top gun: maverick, shameless, twilight
↳ total fics — 45
♕ collection v
↳ includes — jujutsu kaisen, marauders, a court of thorns and roses, dc
↳ total fics — 60
♕ collection vi
↳ includes — a court of thorns and roses, marvel, criminal minds
↳ total fics — 45

♕ divider — @bunnysrph | ♕ last updated — 08 june 2024


The sluttiest depiction of Cardan.
Artist: frostbite.studios

Eris taking care of his baby brother Lucien
Adding to list to read when it’s out
Coming in June: A Fourth Wing x ACOTAR crossover story
I will post the plot below. Let me know if you would like to be tagged
The long lost Archeron sister
Pairing: Azriel x Archeron!reader, Xaden Riorson x Archeron!reader
Plot: in an attempt to keep their wealth, mama and papa Archeron decide to sell one of their daughters to a family who was having trouble conceiving another child. Years later they come face to face when the Venin plan to attack prythian and said daughter comes with her friends to help defeat the creatures.
Update:
Now that it’s revealed that Xaden is the other love interest I can now reveal that the Sorrengail’s adopted the reader (I was keeping it in the dark just in case Brennan was the one chosen to be the readers love interest) and that she’s actually Elain’s twin sister in the story. Things are going to get MESSY in this story.

LATE MERMAY POST - Because last month my job was very hectic and this weekend happens to be June already 😔
I wrote a quick small drabble below that goes with this drawing, enjoy
SharkMerman!Sebastian x IceBettaMermaid!Winter (MC) ❄️🩵🧜🏻♂️🧜🏻♀️
Sebastian is a magical shark merman that loves exploring new places and has a voracious appetite for adventure. While exploring the Greenland Sea, he encountered and fell in love with Winter, a rare mythical species of Betta mermaid that could live in icy seawater. He discovered after talking with her that there are currently only three of these Betta merfolks in the entire Arctic ocean, including her.
He could only see her a couple of times a week because his body could not withstand the icy temperature and his self-warming spell could only last for a day. During the remainder of the time, he would have to return to his home in the Northern Atlantic Ocean.
When she first met Sebastian, Winter was enthralled with his vast knowledge and intellect, as well as his witty and charming attitude. He has a kind and loving heart, despite the fact that he could be rather crafty at times and his stubborn disposition occasionally left her shaking her head.
Sebastian adores her quirky personality and caring nature, and he became even more enamored with her when he discovered that she possesses both intelligence and curiosity that rivals his. And Merlin’s bloody tail, while he finds her beauty captivating, her desire for knowledge is as powerful and forceful as the Gulf Stream, and he’s a goner for her. When he comes to visit her place, they always spend time together, whether it's going on long swims exploring places or simply chatting for hours.
Driven by a desire to see each other frequently, he trained his body to become more tolerant of the cold while she increased her tolerance to warmer waters. He would teach her spells to keep her body chilly while he practiced his self-warming charms to last even longer than before.
Even though their training allowed them to spend days or even weeks together, their enchantment doesn't endure long enough for their liking.
Nevertheless, they are resolute to search for a way to remain together, indefinitely, without the use of their magic.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
I actually have more lore on this drabble involving Ominis and other characters but I'll leave it like this for now, indefinitely
EDIT: OH GOSH I TOTALLY FORGOT but I meant to give some credits! I eyeballed some poses and backgrounds from other artworks: https://pin.it/10Gw0AWKx by floorsdelluna and this painting I found in pinterest https://pin.it/5hjMe2Lga

