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[myimaginesandrp]

Unwanted Reunions

Summary: You’re not exactly the best at this superhero stuff, but you try. Everything seems to be going okay until a creature who's  not from around here crashes your universe. And that means… they won’t be the only ones to do so. 

Notes: 2k, Miguel O’Hara x Spider Woman reader

Warnings: Mild angst  maybe?...

A/N: Please be nice. This is the first time I write for the ITSV/ATSV universe. This man just has me in a chokehold rn 🙈 {Also this was 0% Edited. oops}

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The cool breeze of the evening sky brushed against your cheeks as you slowly made your way up another floor on the glass covered skyscraper you found yourself on. Man you wished you were home. You wished you were in your tiny apartment, laying in bed cuddling with a book, or rotting your brain away with a show like you had planned. Instead  you were here, in the middle of the city, crawling up the 50th floor of some random building as balding men in suits watched you trying, and failing, to keep calm because you were scared out of your mind. The last time you had gone up this far you had almost thrown up inside your mask. As it happens, getting bit by a radioactive spider comes with many perks that don’t include taking away your fear of heights. 

Why you still tried to help people on this side of town was a wonder to you. They were all snobby jerks who looked down on people like you. People with “enhancements” or as most of the population liked to call, “unnatural freaks”. Hence why you had decided to opt for the suit and the mask. It helped keep your sanity and your normal life as “normal” as you could get. As “enhancements” went, yours weren’t so bad. You could’ve been some rando with glowing skin, or some deformed fella with multiple limbs, or like that one poor girl who had spikes sticking out of her back.  Such things happen when you mess with stuff you shouldn’t. The people you worked with didn’t know when to stop, and so here you were shooting webs out of your wrists and feeling tingles every time you were in danger. And of course, crawling up ridiculously tall buildings because you were just a girl trying to help people. 

Today people happened to be two idiots who were filming videos on a loose platform instead of cleaning the windows like they were supposed to. They were young, one blonde and the other with rainbow colored hair who were looking around frantically as the platform they stood on swung in the wind. Their camera was a scattered mess of plastic on the ground, and if you didn't hurry, they were going to be joining the scraps soon. But the farther up you went, the harder the wind pushed against you, and honestly maybe this superhero life just wasn't for you anymore. It had been months of near misses and property damage, and rude ladies telling you to mind your own business. 

The snap of a rope above you pulled you away from your thoughts and you looked up just in time to see the last cable holding the platform give out. You leaped up with all the strength you had and grabbed the rainbow haired guy, as the other held on to what was left of the support cables with all his mind. As a series of webs later and you had him all wrapped up around you, holding on as you reached for the other who would not let go. 

“Buddy, you need to let go, that thing is gonna give out!” Exasperated, you reached out to him only to have him kick at your hand, sending his shoe straight up to hit your forehead before it went tumbling down below.

“ I don't want your help, you're a woman! I’ll wait for that one guy with the rocket suit to show up”. Your eyes flashed red. There was no way this guy was for real. 

“Look asshole! He’s in jail! He was laundering money”  you yell back at him while the other young man wrapped around you began to sob.

“I don’t care, I’ll just wait here”  the blonde screamed, shaking his head. A warm puddle of what you hopped were tears spread down your back and you reached forward again only to get hit in the face with another shoe. 

“Look you can either come with me, or you can turn yourself into a puddle of guts once you hit the ground. Your choice!” You took several deep breaths and offered your hand again. This time he reluctantly reached out his arm and you pulled him quickly before he changed his mind. 

The way down was ridiculously slow. The screams and cries of the two men mixed together with the force of the wind made the whole ordeal that much more unpleasant. The last rays of the day were hiding behind the rows of buildings as you focused all your attention on not looking down.  A decent sized crowd gathered at the bottom, a fire truck just pulling into the street to help. Just as you were about to reach the bottom and be done with this mess, you felt your body go rigid. 

No, not now. You thought to yourself as your “tingles” went off, letting you know something was off. What could possibly be happening now… Your answer came in a scatter of screams from the people below. Bodies ran into one another and others pointed up into the sky. You turned in time to see a mass of colors paint the sky and a single figure stepped through. And as a flash of familiarity hit you when you saw him, so did a large creature on your left. 

The two men went flying into the ground and you were lifted into the sky by an enormous pair of wings. It took you a second before you realized it was actually a man, or at least he looked like a man, with a large beak and a set of talons that began clawing at you. Glass broke around you as the man creature flew through buildings heading towards the part of the city you knew was trouble. 

The large green building you worked at came closer and closer and all you could do was try and try to pull and jump and evade his attacks. Still you managed to redirect him towards the river. A moment later you were crashing into a large and thankfully empty warehouse. The creature was shifting and screeching in pain and you rubbed your eyes to make sure you were seeing correctly but this thing was not from around here. And if this thing was not from around here, then others would follow. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you realized you were in for a seriously unwanted reunion. 

Shaking your head you leaped up and made short work of the creature. Now that you had your feet on the ground it was easy for you to work your way around the threat. With a long sigh you finished tying him up and dropped to the ground, to check on your wounds. Most of your arms were scratched up and a nasty gash on the side of your waist was throbbing, but you were okay. You stood up and looked over at the falcon man? Who was knocked out in front of you.

“Now what am I going to do with you? Hmm?” You said as you walked around to get a good look at him.

“I’d be more than happy to take him off your hands” Said a familiar voice behind you. Your body tensed and relaxed as you turned to meet a pair of brown eyes you thought you’d never see again. 

“ Jess!” You made your way over to her and she welcomed you into her arms with a  warm embrace. “I’ve missed you so much” 

“Me too girl, Headquarters hasn’t been the same without you and your big brain” She said with a warm smile. 

“Oh I doubt it, Lyla should have everything taken care of…” 

“Not everything” she replied and nodded her head to the side. Your eyes trailed away from hers as another figure stepped out of the Shadows. 

You took a step back as your heart betrayed you by speeding up to a mile a minute. He had his full suit on so you couldn’t see his face or any emotion behind the new mask as he made his way toward the two of you. He was so tall, taller than you remembered, and his gaze was fixed on you as he began making his way towards you. His name slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself.

“Miguel” 

“I thought you were going to wait for me by the river?” Jess said as she began to play with her watch, scanning the creature. 

“You took too long,” he replied as he looked over at the creature before coming back to meet your gaze. 

“I guess this one is yours?” you cleared your throat. Your name left his lips and you had to move before your body betrayed you and did something stupid like cry. “He’s all knocked out. You should be able to take him with no issues I-”

“You’re hurt” Jess said as she reached forward and lifted your arm to reveal the gash on your side. “We gotta get this looked at”

“No, it’s fine” you said, stepping away “I’m sure it will heal very soon, it's not a big deal.” A firm hand  wrapped around your wrist as he called your name again. 

“She’s right, just have someone in headquarters look at it and you can come right back” he said stepping closer to you. 

“That’s not a good idea. I have a lot to do here. I have people to look after here” 

“Chiquita, it will be quick. I promise.” Your body went rigid at his words. 

“Yeah I’m not sure your promises have much weight to them anymore.” He winced at your words, letting go of your wrist. 

“I’m gonna let you two catch up for a second.” Jess cut in, “See you at headquarters!” she said before disappearing into a portal.

“Chiquita…” Miguel started but you took a  step back shaking your head.

“No, you don’t get to call me sweet names anymore. You broke your promise”

“You know I had no choice. I had to do what I did for the good of the universe. You know that!” 

“You don’t know that! How could you possibly know what the outcome would be?”

“ All the calculations said-”

“He was a child, Miguel! A child! I told you to give me a chance to help him and you went behind my back and you did what you wanted anyway” your voice getting louder and louder.

“You think I wanted to do that to Miles? You think it was easy for me to do what I had to?” he said pacing around.

“ I needed time” you said shaking your head “ I just needed a little more time and we could’ve found an answer”

“But we didn’t have time!” His tone finally reached yours. “We didn’t have time and he was going to destroy millions of people’s lives.” 

“You lied to me Miguel. You lied to me. You were so hellbent on doing what you thought was okay that you didn’t care who you hurt on the way.” Your breath cuts off as the pain in your side burns through you. He runs over and catches you before you fall over. In a moment his mask is gone and you’re staring into his eyes. His eyebrows furrow with concern as he looks over at the red on your  suit that is growing each second. 

“ We can talk about this later. Please, let me help you.” he pleads.

 You don’t know if it’s the loss of blood making you dizzy but you nod your head reluctantly.

“Fine, but as soon as I heal you bring me back” you say. Or you mean to say, but instead a mess of syllables leaves you.  A moment later he lifts you into his arms and as you lean your head on his chest the world around your shifts into a colorful mess. He steps through the portal and you let the heaviness of your eyelids win, welcoming the darkness. 

___🕷___

Tysm for reading :> it’s been a hot minute since I actually wrote something so I know this is gonna be a mess. Either way if you made it this far, thank you so so much for taking the time to read this ❤️

Ps. I’ve been working in this chapter so I’ll be posting an updated one very soon. Please look for ward to that!

[myimaginesandrp]

It's my 9 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

[myimaginesandrp]

Coming back to find out someone’s stolen one of my works is the most hilarious thing that’s ever happened to me.

[myimaginesandrp]

What’s Sgaeyl’s full name?

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Show me where it hurts (part 1)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.

warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo

a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker.  I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D

(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)

edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(

wc: 3.6k

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You think Miguel is avoiding you. 

One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point. 

"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."

She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it. 

"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"

"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow. 

"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.." 

He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here." 

"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?" 

"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?" 

"I don't have time for this-" 

"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?" 

"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans. 

"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks." 

"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now." 

This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching. 

"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-" 

"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."

"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."

He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "

Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!" 

When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall. 

"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly? 

Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out. 

~~~

Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big. 

He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing. 

Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm. 

"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain. 

Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies. 

"What happened?" He strains. 

"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-" 

"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"

"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"

Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye. 

"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-" 

"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."

Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple. 

"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."

When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile. 

You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you. 

"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."

You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."

"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."

You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?" 

He shrugs. " 'Course I was."

"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does. 

"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now. 

He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?" 

"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan. 

"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"

"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact. 

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-" 

"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-" 

"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"

"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-" 

"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "

He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it. 

"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"

Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.

"I don't… I d-don't…?" 

"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?" 

Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to. 

"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."

"Miguel-"

"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."

"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts." 

Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."

You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears. 

"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."

You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down. 

~~~

The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning. 

The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before. 

You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now. 

"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"

"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home. 

You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time. 

The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear. 

"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."

"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?" 

"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"

"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."

"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."

"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."

"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?" 

You hum.

"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"

"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."

He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?" 

"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me." 

"Naturally…"

"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."

"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"

"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."

"Shit."

"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."

"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "

"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me." 

" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."

"Good to know. I'll see you around."

He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard. 

Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes… 

You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.  

On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate. 

"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you. 

"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding. 

"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?" 

"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."

"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?" 

She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."

Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?" 

"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."

You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?" 

"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."

"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?" 

She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters." 

"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"

"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word. 

"I'm a little confused, Lyla."

She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface. 

It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head. 

Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…

"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "

You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla." 

"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."

Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning. 

"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?" 

"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."

"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."

"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."

"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this." 

"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"

"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."

The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."

"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you." 

With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.

_

_

_

[illshakeyouallnightlong-dean]

Take Me To The Sun (Pt. 2)

Part 2 is here! :) Here you can read part 1.

Just a little angst before we get to the good stuff.

It’s been 10 days. 10 days of agony, of turmoil and regret and anger - so much anger. I’m the only third year left. I’m expected to carry on my co-section leader responsibilities as if the absence of Garrick is a minor inconvenience. The early sun rises with a flourish of pinks, reds and oranges and all I can do is relish in this fleeting moment of peace. 

No one seems to care or notice that they aren’t back yet. I can’t help but seek comfort from Rathnait, my only anchor since the moment we left Basgiath. A warmth of what I could only describe as security floods down the bond. 

We can’t worry about things that haven’t been confirmed yet, flare. She knows my true questions, the things that I can’t bring myself to ask or think about. You must think about today, where we will go. Graduation day. I would be assigned to my outpost today, and by this evening I would be gone, my journey at Bagaith over. Turning away from the river, I make my way towards the flight field. The few third years left of this school congregate, awaiting as Colonel Aetos and Commandant Pancheck begin the assignments. 

“Congrats on graduating, Section Leader. It is a shame that Wingleader Riorson and Section Leader Tavis aren’t here to accompany you.” Colonel Aetos nearly sneers at the mention of Xaden. The obvious disdain is unsettling as he rifles through different papers. “Ah yes, your assignment. Due to your signet and the savagery of your red swordtail - you’re being assigned to the eastern wing…specifically, Samara.” He grins at me, almost maniacally as if the post is a joke. Rathanit snarls in my mind, rage igniting the very blood in my veins but all I can do is take the papers from his hand, saluting in acknowledgement. 

Where are you, Ray? My hands tremble, crushing the papers beneath my hold as I make my way quickly towards my room. 

I’ll be there soon, flare. Unless you need me now? 

I halt in the middle of the empty hall, knowing in a matter of moments the rest of the cadets will be awake to get into formation. Pressing the heels of my hand into my eyes, I can’t help but rest my back against the cool stone. 

Samara is the front line. Trying to get the ever rising beat of my heart under control, I must not panic. I am a rider. 

Are you afraid, flare? I shudder at her question, not wanting to admit the fear, the panic. But I know that she can feel everything, hear all that I think. 

They aren’t here. He isn’t here. A whimper escapes my lips, the reality of it all just crashing down like rubble. I will be going to Samara, there is no avoiding it, there is no changing it. While I had spent years trying to survive Basgaith, I would be sent to one of the most active posts in the region. I wouldn’t see Garrick. 

“Section Leader? Ar-are you ok?” Dain Aetos stands before me, hands out as if approaching a scared animal. “We need to get to formation,” I don't hate the kid, knowing that following the straight and narrow path is the life that is meant for some people over others. However, that doesn’t mean I want him to see me having a mental breakdown. Giving him a small nod, I manage to get myself to stand before fully looking at the Squad Leader. Something’s wrong. My own senses are beginning to go haywire. My signet. Only Xaden and Garrick knew. Command and Bagaith are under a different impression as to what it is. The manipulation and detection of emotions however was a daily venture, there was no turning it off, there was only controlling it and questing it and right now Dain Aetos was a mess. 

“I would ask you the same thing, what’s wrong?” I question him, dusting off my flight leathers. I don’t miss the way he flinches at my question, his hesitancy. “Do I have to give an order to know?” 

Taking a deep breath, he stands tall despite the sorrow in his eyes, “Xaden and the rest of the squad he took with him are being declared dead at formation.” I startle myself at the immediate sob that escapes my lips. “Leadership has been looking and there is no sign of them.” Feeling the agony of his own loss, it feels as if a tidal wave has pulled me under. The roaring from Rathnait in my brain feels as if it will explode any second. Dain’s grief, his regret all barrel into me with no filter, no shield. Rathanit’s confusion and rage down the bond. My own sorrow, my own heartbreak. There is no stopping it. There just is feeling it. Unaware of the stream of tears that roll down my face, the taste of salt jolts me out of the shock, the horror. 

“Round up everyone, squad leader. I’ll be at formation in a moment,” I murmur, the assignment papers feeling like large weights in my hand. He turns away to head towards the Quadrant, “Dain,” I call out, sounding like a garbled mess. “Thank you for telling me.” His own eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods. 

My flare. I hear her call out, though to reach out seems like so much energy, all I can do is let her in with no barriers, allowing her to be there in the comfort of my mind. I’m coming, flare. 

Standing at the bottom of the stone dias. Everyone in formation, I don’t bother to look around. There is no one here to look for anymore. There is no Wingleader, there is no co-section leader - there is just me alone at the front. I didn’t bother to look at my squad, not being able to look at their questioning looks. I was known for being put together, not a hair out of place, no rumpled leathers, no dirt unless necessary. I’m sure the current state of me was a shock. Strands of hair fell in front of my face, eyes dry and cheeks raw from the tears. 

Captain Fitzgibbons overlooks formation, reading off the death roll. “Violet Sorrengail.” A moment of silence as all eyes look to the stoic face of General Sorrengail. “Garrick Tavis.” My heart feels as if it bleeds on the very floor I'm standing on, flinching harshly at the reading of his name. “And Xaden Riorson.” Captain Fitzgibbon’s voice rings out echoing around the quadrant. “Well this is awkward,” a voice calls out. Gasps are heard around the quadrant, even command seems unsettled by what’s happening. My knees seem to be locked in place, unable to turn around and see what is going on. My breaths turn into small gasps of air - no no no it can’t be, I’m dreaming. Dain said. I need to wake up. Heavy footsteps approach behind me, and two individuals take up position on either side of me. A calloused hand brushes against my own.

[myimaginesandrp]

I folded so fast 😭 (Ty for writing for Garrick! I hardly find anyone writing for him)

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

@ablev92 can't leave the boy hanging with nothing. This is not exactly your idea but something that hopefully will still scratch the itch. 🤍✨

His girl

"It's beyond me how you stomach that guy," Violet breathed out, her body slumping onto the mat. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Xaden was desperate to keep her alive. Wasn't hard to see why especially considering that he had so openly brought her to train away from the rest of the group and with the rebellion bunch.

"Less talking more working, give me five more", you tapped Violet's thigh, urging her to do a couple more sit-ups. The girl's muscles were nowhere to be seen. It still was beyond you how she wasn't swept by the wind while crossing the Parapet. She huffed as she pulled up time after time. Then maybe the brain was the better asset to possess. "Rest for a bit, I don't want to see your lunch all over the floor", you threw a water bottle her way that she barely caught, chugging it down in no time.

You let yourself sink to the floor as you too started your warm-up. Itching for a real tassel. You haven't properly fought in a couple of weeks. Even since during one of the patrols you got mixed up in an ambush. You slid down your dragon and injured your shoulder. It was nothing major but the boys were mother hens so you were not allowed to do anything.

"Do you ever fight with him?", Violet gestured to Garrick once more. Your eyes moved over where both Xaden and he threw punches at one another across the room. Shirts were already discarded. But then most of the time these boys trained shirtless. Too much body heat they said. "Shouldn't you only have your eyes set on Xaden? He's a jealous type", you asked her teasingly. Leaning forward to stretch your back. You couldn't see her face but she no doubt was red like a tomato. Violet couldn't hide her emotions for shit. That was another thing Xaden should teach her.

"I thought Xaden was the scary one but...", she breathed. Her yapping was starting to get on your nerves but then Xaden chose you for a reason. The rest of the group would have already broken the girl or she would be crying in the corner. "Don't say it out loud Garrick's ego might explode", you chuckled, reaching to put your hair up into a messy bun. "But do you?", Violet urged. You could understand her fascination this group was quite a sight for sore eyes. "I fought with all of them. Imogen, Bodhi, Xaden, Garrick", you said casually, eyes locking on the person you hoped would finally look your way.

"And you walk off the mat?", you could feel her eyes on you but you were already shrugging your shirt off, leaving only a tight black sports bra on, "Well, I'm standing here, aren't I?", you winked her way as you stepped closer to the mats.

"Looks very fun but I'm borrowing Garrick", you said casually, motioning with your hand for Xaden to step away. The guy simply brushed his hand through his messy hair as he smirked. "I ain't fighting with you", Garrick said coldly, turning his attention back on Xaden as if you weren't standing right in front of him. You could hear oo's sounding all around the room. Even Xaden snickered. "I ain't got all day Riorson, let's...", Garrick grumbled but you struck first, fist colliding with his hand and making him drop his dagger.

"You little...", Garrick bit back as he turned towards you, his big shoulders flexing as he quickly threw a punch of his own. One that you quickly dogged. Elbowing him in his stomach as you turned. It almost looked like a dance as you both swirled around the fight mat. Eyes blazing. You managed to throw him off balance slightly hoping to deliver a final blow with your leg. Unfortunately, it was Garrick we were talking to. He was the best for a reason. His hand quickly wrapped around your ankle as he tugged, your back met the floor as an airy huff slipped past your lips.

"He will kill her", Violet nearly shouted, her knuckles pale as she gripped the water bottle. "Relax, enjoy the spectacle," Imogen mussed. And she wasn't wrong. Everyone had stopped to watch. "He will...", Violet was about to argue more but her eyes caught the smiles painting both of your lips. You had quickly wrapped your legs around Garrick's torso, arm logged in his throat as you managed to turn you both around. Chest heaving for air.

"Want to tap out?", you mussed, leaning closer to him, locking eyes with the man beneath you. Garrick had a proud smirk on his face. You watched him slowly lifting his hand off the mat, fully prepared to walk away from this. But that same hand quickly wrapped around your neck, throwing you off balance as he once again pinned you right beneath him, "Nice try baby", he breathed right by your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine.

"Press harder, I like it", you purred back, making him rare back as you stared at you, "You will be the death of me", he released his grip around you but his warning finger was still pointing at you. "Go fuck it out", Bodhi shouted across the room, making some people laugh. Garrick shot him a death glare. "Be careful, you might be laying beneath him next", you teased back, making Bodhi bite back a laugh as Garrick shook his head.

"Am I off bed rest now?", you asked as you followed him across the gym. "No", he breathed simply, "You're still in pain, your left hand twitched multiple times. It hasn't healed yet", Garrick said plainly as he reached for his water but you quickly kicked it out of reach. Garrick stilled for a heartbeat. The rest of the group was used to you both nagging at each other so almost no one paid you any attention.

"Let me train", you said firmly, only to let out a yelp as Garrick yanked you closer, pushing you against the walk as his frame toward over yours. "I said no", he hissed back. But you knew what this was. You had gone missing that night. They looked for you for two days straight. Well... Garrick did. Against all orders. No sleep. No food. His clothes were damp as he flew over and over. Followed by your dragon. You reached up to cup his face and Garrick instantly closed his eyes.

"I promise you that I'm well", you said softly, "nothing hurts, it's slightly sore, that's all", you tried to reason with this big broody man. "And your fingers", he reached for your palm, you knew what he was looking for, so you quickly moved each of your fingers around. Bending and flexing them. Garrick let out a sigh. "Fine", he breathed. "I can train with Bodhi...", "Like hell is anyone else touching you", Garrick hissed back, making you roll your eyes.

Stepping on your tippy toes you wrapped your arms around his neck, Garrick rose to his full height, making your feet dangle as you held up. His hands instantly reached down to cup your bum as you wrapped your legs around him. "You're lucky that I love you", he muttered as he carried you back to his preferred corner. You gave him your best angel smile that he only shook his head at. "I love you too, thank you for trusting me", you kissed the side of his neck softly, before your eyes darted back to the room. "If you feel..", Garrick started but you cut him off quickly, "Even the tiniest sense of pain I will tell you and we will stop". He nodded at your words, frown disappearing. Violet stood there with her big eyes still on you two. You quickly saluted her. "They're like...", she breathed out, making Imogen let out a chuckle, "Dating, fucking, loving - all of it", the female mused, "Just don't stare too much Garrick doesn't like it". Imogen tapped Violet's shoulder making her turn for the mat that exclusively belonged to Garrick. She knew without having to ask that your roll of training Xaden's girl was now her responsibility.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

chapter xxv – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count:  4,100+

masterlist

Y/N wanted to wake up to Eris’ warmth wrapped around her, to have his autumn scent taking over her senses once again, and his strong arms reminding her that she was protected, safe. 

But Eris had left hours ago – and so stealthily that Y/N had no idea when. 

Instead, Y/N had shot up in bed breathing heavily. 

There had been a surge of power. So strong that it jolted the witch from her deep sleep. 

Both her movements and the surge woke Ronan up, growling as if there was danger in the bedroom. 

“Eris,” Y/N breathed. 

Somehow she knew the power had erupted from him. 

Something was wrong – very wrong. Even the night Eris had defeated Beron, even the night Y/N followed him deep into the forest to test his new strength…she had never felt such power come from Eris. 

If he were using it now, then he was under some sort of attack. 

Y/N jumped out of bed, flinging off her nightgown and threw on trousers and a tunic – quicker than worrying herself with a dress or a damn corset. 

If she was off to battle, she would order a sentry to fetch her the same armor Eris had forced upon her before. 

But Y/N needn’t look far, for as soon as she flung the door open, she was met with a handful of sentries standing guard outside her chambers.

Amongst them were all of Eris’ smoke hounds. And as soon as they heard their master’s mate open the door, they had shot to their feet and whined with anticipation. 

Y/N’s eyes raced amongst the sentries, half expecting Lucien to be with them.

But Eris’ brother was nowhere to be found, which meant he was surely with him. 

“Where is the High Lord?” She asked curtly. 

“There was rebellion in Drumenthoul,” the highest ranking responded quickly. She recognized him well enough to know his name: Captain Respen. 

Her brow furrowed. “Lord Muiris’ demesne?” 

“Yes, my lady. It is one of Autumn Court’s largest cities. Its subjects attacked the manor of the late lord, after they heard of the attack on you. His son retaliated, using what was left of his father’s army to wreak havoc on his own people. But it appeared to be an attempt at a trap.” 

Y/N’s stomach dropped. “Walk with me,” she ordered all of them. 

Instantly, they fell into step with her. 

“Ready my horse with my weapons,” she continued. One of the sentry rushed ahead to do as she asked, making his way to the stables. “I must go to him.” Then she looked at Captain Respen and silently told him to continue.  

“Before the attacks started, Lord Muiris’ son had called for reinforcements...from any Lord who did not agree with the High Lord’s usurping.” 

“They knew Eris would aid his people and they used that to lure him intro a trap with a bigger enemy than he could have anticipated,” Y/ noted aloud. 

“Precisely, my lady.” He didn’t hide how impressed he was with her intelligence. She had the makings of a High Lord's wife, despite her mortal and witchling upbringing.

“Do not fear though, Lady Y/N. Eris anticipated such an attack. He brought his best infantry.” Respen hesitated before he added, “And he has gained much power since becoming High Lord.” 

Y/N knew Respen was trying to calm her, to assure her Eris couldn’t be in danger. But no words would calm her.

“And you were left behind to guard me?” Annoyance was clear in her voice. 

“Protecting the High Lord’s mate is no lowly task, Lady Y/N. It is a great honor. The High Lord will take no chances at you being attacked while he is preoccupied with civil war. It would be the exact time for an assassination attempt.” 

When they reached the courtyard, Aengus was indeed ready, with her sword, bow, and satchel of arrows attached to the saddle.

But Y/N suddenly remembered that Drumenthoul was on the north coast of the court.

She had included cardiography in her Autumn Court studies. And it would take days to reach. 

Why had no one said anything?

“Can someone winnow me?” She asked. 

All the soldiers shifted uncomfortably, not meeting her gaze. 

Captain Respen was the one who broke the silence. “We are under strict orders to do no such thing.”

He at least had the decency to look guilty about it. 

That was why no one had questioned her orders to grab her mount: she would never get close to the danger in time.  

“Lucien is with them?” She asked quietly. 

He nodded. 

“So I am to just wait here?” 

Before anyone could answer her, there was another surge of power. 

Between the courtyard of the Forest House and the outer gates, there was a half mile. 

But despite the distance, Y/N could see him – no – she could feel Eris. And she sensed that something was not right. 

The next second, she was jumping onto Aengus, and digging her heels into gelding. The horse needed no other signals to throw him into a run. 

“Accompany Lady Y/N,” was the last thing Y/N heard before she was in the forests and meadows between the courtyard and outer wall. 

When she was close enough to take in her mate, she noted that while Eris was walking on his own, his entire body was tense. 

A gust of wind hit her. “He is injured…faebane…faebane…faebane.”

Another gust of wind. “He took…his beastly form.”

Y/N had heard of the High Lord’s beast form from a night of drinking with Cassian. He tried to scare her by sharing the murderous creatures she could stumble upon in the Prythian wilderness. 

“But none are more terrifying than the beasts of High Lords," he had whispered to her for dramatic effect. Then went into great detail of the few times in his centuries when he witnessed Rhysand’s own beastly form. 

Y/N still didn’t know much about them, but she did know it drained one's power. It was no parlor trick, but a skill that only a powerful High Lord could wield – and use sparingly. 

That must have been the blast of power that had woken her up. 

When she was just a few yards away, Y/N swung her leg over the side of the saddle and jumped while Aengus still cantered and had yet to come to a stop. 

“Eris!” Y/N gasped at the sight of him. 

Though he walked on his own, Lucien watched his eldest brother with caution a few steps behind him.

And now Y/N could see that Eris had at least twenty arrows sticking out of his back. 

Then she heard the galloping of her guard catching up to them. 

As soon as Eris’ spotted them, his posture straightened even more. 

He does not want to appear weak in front of his men, Y/N realized. 

“The infantry?” Y/N asked the two of them. 

“Only a handful lost,” Lucien told her. “But many injured. They are being winnowed. The rest will return on horseback.”

Y/N turned to her guard. “Ready the infirmary tents! The injured will be returning any moment. Have a female alert the human women that I will need their help. They will know what to prepare.” 

Captain Respen barked orders at the others, but he and another lingered. 

“Leave us,” she ordered them, more harshly than she ever would if the situation did not call for it. 

Respen eyed Eris. 

“Do as my mate demands, Captain.” The High Lord finally spoke.

Y/N was surprised by how strong his voice sounded, when it was becoming more and more clear to her how much pain he was in. 

Respen and his lieutenant nodded before galloping back to the Forest House. 

Once they were out of eyesight, Eris fell to his hands and knees. 

“Eris!” Y/N whispered, not wanting any fae senses picking up their panic. 

“For Cauldron’s sake!” Lucien growled as he helped his brother off the ground with Y/N. 

Y/N carefully put one of his arms over his shoulder, while Lucien did the same with his other arm.

“How bad?” She hissed.

“I shall live,” Eris muttered. 

His pale skin was not its usual glow, but sickly looking. His hair was covered in mud and blood – and she could only hope most of it was not his. 

“It’s the faebane,” she acknowledged. 

Eris and Lucien looked at her with surprise. But she ignored them. 

“Can you ride?” She whispered to Eris. 

He gave her a shaky nod. “Behind you,” he clarified. 

She nodded and whistled for Aengus. “Lucien, help me get him in the saddle.”

Y/N climbed on first, and pulled him up as Lucien lifted from the ground. 

Eris growled at the pain, making her heart race with panic. 

As soon as he was sitting, Y/N gave orders. “Lucien, get a cot brought to my witchery.  Do it yourself and tell no one. Discretion is key.”

Lucien nodded and winnowed to the Forest House. 

“You want to show them how strong you are, then show them,” Y/N muttered before she urged Aengus into a gallop. 

When they got closer, she softly urged him. “Take the reigns.”

Eris did as she said. 

Y/N knew why Eris did not winnow back into the Forest House on his own. She knew why he would not show pain, despite his back being littered with faebane-poisoned arrows. There were those who still questioned his power. Therefore, he would not show weakness. 

Instead, it looked like two lovers returning after sharing a relieved embrace. 

Y/N jumped down from Aengus and handed the horses to a stableboy, making sure not to watch Eris with worry as he dismounted on his own. 

“Make sure all the healers have been alerted,” Eris told his sentries. Then he looked over his shoulder of the forest and meadow they had just come from. 

With the wave of his hand, a hundred tents appeared out of nowhere. Healer tents for the injured that would soon be brought back. 

“Come,” Y/N offered her hand to her mate. 

Eris didn’t hesitate, taking it and letting her lead him into the Forest House. 

——

Y/N had offered Eris a pain relieving tonic, but he refused it. 

Not having time to argue with him, she fluttered about her witchery, brewing a potion and cutting herbs. 

All while Eris sat patiently on the cot Lucien had snuck in.

Within minutes, Y/N had a healing paste ready. 

“The arrows,” she gulped. “Shall I remove them one by one or all at once?”

Eris met her gaze over her shoulder, “All at once.”

“I will help,” Lucien offered. 

“Touch me with your grimy hands and I will set you alight,” Eris growled in warning. 

Y/N ignored the outburst. “Ready?” She whispered. 

He nodded. 

But Y/N moved in front of him and crouched before him. She took both of his hands in her own, squeezing them lovingly.

She closed her eyes and started chanting a spell.

And Eris immediately felt his back start to heat. 

Even as a bystander, Lucien felt the witch’s power fill the room. 

Eris almost forgot he was about to suffer, too enamored with watching his mate take over with her magic. 

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, but they looked at no one and nothing. 

Lucien watched as they glazed over in white, which they had all put together was only when she was stretching her magic to new and powerful heights. 

And then, as if there was an invisible lasso around all of the two dozen arrows in his back, Y/N’s spell got louder and then abruptly stopped. Along with her spell ending, the arrows were all ripped from Eris’ back in one pull. 

But the only noise that came from the High Lord was a low growl. 

Y/N gasped at the exertion of power, and was quickly trying to catch her breath. 

But her eyes had returned to normal. 

Lucien leaned over to look at Eris’ back. “Well, you sure got all of them.” Then he bent down to pick up the fallen arrows from the ground, burning them in his palm until they were ash. 

“You better clean that up,” Y/N warned as she saw it flutter to the floor. 

She turned her attention back to Eris. “Alright?”

He just nodded. 

“I must clean the wounds individually now,” she told him gently. “Some will need stitching, but not many.”

Silence filled the room as the real work began. Y/N treated Eris’ wounds as if he were made of glass. She was gentle and kind, always giving him a moment when his body tensed with pain. But he never complained and barely made a sound. 

“It was not…it was not how it should be,” Lucien finally spoke after some time. He was sitting on the ground now, knees propped up as he watched from the corner.

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked with confusion. 

Lucien watched Eris, who would not meet his gaze. “Beron’s beast form was that of a multi-tailed fox – still a tremendous size – and with the wings of an owl. Smaller than the beasts of the other High Lords, but still ever so deadly.” 

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “And…?”

But Lucien didn’t speak. 

“I was something else,” Eris finally answered, trying to pass through the subject. 

“Something more,” Lucien corrected darkly. 

“I don’t understand,” she admitted quietly. 

But Eris just stared at the ground, his face emotionless. 

Lucien cleared his throat awkwardly, but continued. “He too turned into a fox, but that of a bear – something to rival even Tamlin. He had the antlers of our court’s stag. And the flames…he was engulfed in flames.”

Was it fear in Lucien’s tone... or awe? Y/N couldn’t figure it out. 

Lucien finally finished with, "The arrows you pulled from his back are just those of hundreds that failed to take him down.” 

“Then I shall thank this beast when I see him,” Y/N snapped. “For he seems to be the reason that Eris returned alive.” 

That was her only warning to Lucien to stop his antics. 

“Leave us,” Eris ordered his youngest brother. 

He didn’t need to be told again. 

“I will check on the injured,” Lucien announced to no one in particular. 

He closed the door louder than necessary, making both of them roll their eyes. 

The only sound to be heard was the crackling of the fire in the witchery. 

“How do you know how to treat faebane?” Eris’ tone instantly switched to the softness that was only reserved for his mate. 

“I shall tell you when you tell me why you ran into battle without waking me," she countered grimly. 

Eris was smart enough to look guilty, even though she couldn’t see his face as she worked on his back. “I did not wish to worry you.” 

“And being woken up by your surge of power was not more worrisome?” 

“I did not realize you would sense my magic in such a way,” he admitted. 

Y/N paused her healing and walked around to look down at him. “You could have been killed, Eris. And I never would have even said goodbye.” 

Without hesitating, Eris reached up and gently grasped the back of her neck, pulling her down until her lips crashed to his. 

She was sure the movement did not feel good for his back. But one would never know from the way his body only tried to pull her in further.

The subject was lost for a few moments, while their lips moved together.

Eventually, they pulled apart. 

“You are right,” Eris told her, voice raspy. 

“I am right?” She questioned, suddenly forgetting what they had even been talking about before he kissed her. 

“I should have woken you before I left,” he clarified. 

Then he smirked. “But I knew you would have tried to come.” 

“Of course I would have!” She admitted with a playful glare. 

His eyes darkened in warning. “You cannot rush into battle alongside me every time there is danger I must face, Y/N.”

“And why not?”

“Because I need you safe. Do you forget why you are here? And because these are not your battles to fight."

Y/N looked into his eyes before she answered, “They would be if I accepted the bond.”

She yelped when she was suddenly sitting across Eris' lap. He had pulled her so swiftly that there was no stopping it. 

“Do not tease me with such things, witch.” 

His body felt so hot, it was as if there was fire itself beneath his skin.  

Y/N swallowed. “I need to finish healing your back, High Lord.” 

Eris watched her before allowing her to get up. 

A tension filled silence settled in the room. 

“Will you let me see your beast form?” She finally asked him, her tone innocent. 

Eris smirked, only because he knew she couldn’t see it. “Why, so you can make me your pet, like Ronan?”

“I think it would be rather hard to cuddle a grizzly fox that was immersed in flames…” She thought aloud. “Cuddles would be much easier when you are in this form.”

Y/N had finished with her spells and healing salve, and was now wrapping Eris in gauze to keep it in place and protect the mending. 

“Where is this torment coming from?” Eris asked as he slowly stood. 

Y/N stepped to him, her eyes seemingly innocent. 

Then she suddenly kissed him again, but pulled away only after she bit the corner of his lip, making him hiss – not from the pain, though it did sting – from arousal. 

“For not waking me,” she answered, as if it were obvious. 

She stormed out of the witchery and threw open the door to his bedchambers that were next down the hall. 

“Also, I put a sleep tonic on my lips. So you will want to get in bed in the next few minutes, or you will be passing out on the cold, hard floor. And if you ruin my hard work from that, I shall punish you even worse.” 

Eris looked at her, utterly stunned. 

“You poison your High Lord?" His eyes narrowed playfully. “Finally, your true self is revealed: you are an evil, little witch after all.” 

She ignored his teasing. “To bed, now.” 

Eris sauntered past her into his personal bedchambers. 

She waited until he sat on the bed, then she slammed the door behind her. 

Instantly, she started chanting a protection spell. 

Yes, she had just knocked Eris out, which left him even more vulnerable than he already was with his injuries and exertion of power from using his beast form. 

Therefore, she would not leave him unprotected. 

She knew his guards would be lingering further down the hall. Lucien would have ordered to give the two of them space until further orders. 

All of them straightened to attention when they saw her round the corner.

“The High Lord is to stay in his rooms and rest,” she explained firmly. “If he comes out, do not engage. One of you is to inform me immediately. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Lady Y/N.” They all said in unison. There was no mockery or questioning; their tones held only respect and understanding. 

—🍁—🍁—🍁—

Eris awoke feeling much better than he probably should – and he knew he had Y/N to thank for that. 

It was dusk now. And he’d left for battle before the sun had risen that morning. So he must’ve been asleep for quite some time. 

Y/N’s poison had knocked him out so quickly that he hadn’t even bathed since battle. Though she had cleaned his wounds, he probably smelled of sweat and blood. 

Eris quickly went to his bathroom and bathed, finally ridding himself of the battle filth. 

Then he threw on a simple tunic and trousers, and rushed out of his chambers. 

His sentries were waiting for him and bowed immediately. 

“The injured?” He asked, getting straight to the point. 

Captain Respen stepped forward. “Tended to, High Lord.” Then paused before he added, “More were lost, their injuries to dire. The healers did all they could.” 

Eris frowned, but gave a slow nod. 

“Where is my mate?” 

All the sentries behind their captain shared a look, silently communicating. 

“She insisted that you are to stay in your bedchambers and rest,” Respen explained.

Eris ignored that. “Where is she?” 

——

Eris entered the grounds where all the healer tents had appeared. He expected to hear moans of pain or tears of grief. But there was a subtle peace amongst the camp. 

The sun had just passed the horizon, leaving the forest and sky with a unique mixture of faded blues and oranges. 

“This way, High Lord,” Captain Respen nodded in a direction past the tents. 

Servants had erupted countless fire pits to both warm the camp and make visibility easier for everyone, despite faelights glowing inside each healer tent. 

Eris’ walk slowed when he heard the giggling and laughter. 

It was not a common sound in Autumn Court.

Once they walked past the last of the tents, Eris halted. 

Y/N, ran around with the mortal children they had been sheltering. It appeared they were playing a game of tag. But every time one of them got away from her grasp, a gust of wind would tickle them, causing a fit of giggles. 

“She has been running around all day, aiding the healers in any way she can. She has saved many lives today.” Captain Respen told him quietly. “When someone finally managed to get her to take a break, she came to entertain the children whose mothers were still helping the wounded.” 

Eris didn’t respond, just watched his mate, who looked utterly exhausted, yet smile and played with the children despite it. 

“Will she stay?” Respen dared to ask his High Lord the question that all of Autumn Court had come to wonder. 

Eris ignored him, but the clenching of his jaw was visible. 

He stepped towards his mate, purposely making noise to bring attention to his arrival. 

The children’s laughter stopped immediately at the sight of the High Lord. Some of them even eyed him with fear. 

“It is alright,” Y/N assured them.

Then she beckoned Eris closer, to her. 

He did as requested, following that invisible string attached to his heart.

“Is it true you turned into a beast?” One of the brave children asked hurriedly. 

Y/N bit back her smile. 

“Can you show us?” Another cried out before Eris could even answer. 

“I do not think your mothers would appreciate that,” Eris told them. 

“I don’t have one. So can you at least show me?” Another begged. 

“Now, now,” Y/N playfully scolded them. "The High Lord is far too powerful to show off his gifts like some court jester.” 

“Awww!!!” They all whined in unison. 

But Eris kneeled before them, pausing dramatically to get their attention back. 

The children leaned in, believing they changed his mind. 

With a subtle and small flick of Eris’ wrist, his palm twisted to the sky, and fireworks erupted above them. 

The children cheered and jumped underneath the fireworks as they continued to erupt in every color they could ever want, some even turning into little animals before exploding. 

They tried to catch the falling light in their hands. But it would always disappear before they could, creating a new game for the children. 

Y/N moved to her mate’s side to join him in watching the new joy.

“Neat trick," she told him.  

Eris gave her a shy smile. “I used to do the same for Lucien when he was a child. Sometimes it was the only thing that could stop his crying fits after father… reprimanded him.” 

But they both knew it was more than reprimanding.

Eris sighed. “It has been so many centuries, I almost forgot about it entirely...until now. 

“How are you feeling?” Y/N asked him. 

“I am fine,” he answered too quickly. 

She sighed, but didn’t push. 

“My guards say you have not rested since tending to me,” he pointed out. 

She shrugged dismissively. “There were many injured. And the healers were overwhelmed. I helped as much as I possibly could.”

“And I am grateful for it.” He countered. “But for someone who does not wish to join this Court, you certainly care about its inhabitants.” 

“Shhh,” she warned. “None of that. I am quite tired.” 

The next second, Eris had scooped Y/N up in his arms. 

“Eris!” She admonished. “Your injuries!”

“My injuries are healing – thanks to you.”

Eris passed his guards, who had been watching over them from a distance. “Once the fireworks finish, make sure the children return to their mothers and caretakers.”

“Of course, High Lord. The children will be looked after.” Captain Respen bowed. 

When they were at the doors of the Forest House, Eris locked eyes with one of the footman who stood at the ready. 

“Bring dinner to her bedchambers,” he ordered. 

The footman nodded and rushed off. 

Eris looked down to see that Y/N had closed her eyes and rested her head in the crook of his neck. 

“Are we too tired for a bath?” He asked quietly. 

Without opening her eyes, Y/N mumbled. “Never too tired for a bath.”

Eris huffed a laugh. “Good. It is my turn to take care of you.” 

“Will you promise that I will wake up next to you tomorrow morning?” 

“I promise, Y/N.” 

-----------

Thank you thank you thank you for your patience. I'm sure no one will read this...but work was really terrible around the holidays. I was trying to find a new job, but the job market is so terrible. So my mental health just took a real hit. I've also really gotten back into reading, so that because my thing unwind after work, instead of writing. I had also been doing a lot of different personal art projects – painting, editing, and photographing. And those started feeling better than writing for me.

Anyways...thank you for those who stuck with me and were patient and supportive.

[myimaginesandrp]

I am so soft for these two. The way they just beckon to each other 😫 Also Eris in BEAST FORM?!? The slow burn is catching fire and I’m laying in med kicking my feet xD Thanks for continuing the series. If you have one fan who’s always looking forward to these it’s ME 🥰

[out-of-jams]

REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPTS

Too many beds

Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss

Really nice guy who hates only you

Academic rivals except it’s two teachers who compete to have the best class

Divorce of convenience

Too much communication

True hate’s kiss (only kissing your enemy can break a curse)

Dating your enemy’s sibling

Lovers to enemies

Hate at first sight

Love triangle where the two love interests get together instead

Fake amnesia

Soulmates who are fated to kill each other

Strangers to enemies

Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating

Too hot to cuddle

Love interest CEO is a himbo/bimbo who runs their company into the ground

Nursing home au

[surielrecs]

Fluff

Autumn Frost by @tadpolesonalgae

Happy Birthday by @clairebear08

In Sickness and in Health by @honeybeefae

Strength of Love by @thevanserrras

Tranquility by @thevanserrras

Angst

Be Happy for Me, Please. by @honeybeefae

Breaking Point by @thevanserrras

Broken Glass by @clairebear08

Daylight by @jeannineee

Didn't Listen by @danikamariewrites

Let Me Go by @jeannineee

Rescue by @danikamariewrites

The Prince of Blood by @leafsandstarlight

Wake Me up When September Ends by @tadpolesonalgae

Woven by @clairebear08

Smut

All We Have is Now by @honeybeefae

Attitude by @jeannineee

Cauldron Fated by @honeybeefae

Club Celebrations by @clairebear08

Conditions of Entry by @illyrian-dreamer

Corruption by @honeybeefae

Degradation by @throneofsmut

Disobedience by @tadpolesonalgae

Great Rite by @leafsandstarlight

Hatred by @jeannineee

Heavy is the Head by @leafsandstarlight

I Missed You by @jeannineee

Moth to a Pyre by @readychilledwine

My Lonely Throne by @leafsandstarlight

Not So Tough by @jeannineee

See Red by @fieldofdaisiies

Servitude by @tadpolesonalgae

Sticks and Stones by @honeybeefae

Series

Destiny's Battleground by @leafsandstarlight

In Spite of Our Differences by @leafsandstarlight

Loose Lips by @acourtofwhatthefuck

If you end up reading any of these amazing fics please give the authors some love!!!! please try and drop a reply and let them know how much we appreciate the time they take to produce such incredible content for us readers! I've seen so many writers get discouraged recently due to lack of interaction from readers, so I am begging you to comment on their fics!

I also hope to update this & add more fics, so please feel free to send in suggestions/your favorites! I’ll be posting lists for other characters soon.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

chapter xxiii – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 4,500+

masterlist

“You are being awfully quiet, my dear.” 

Y/N blinked, getting mentally awoken by Leonora’s comment. “Sorry, I just…I don’t think the hand-made gown tailored specifically for me was necessary.”

Leonora looked confused. “And why is that?”

Y/N’s gaze couldn’t lift from the floor as she answered, “I do not think it is wise for me to attend the celebration.” 

All of the servants and seamstresses froze from the statement and subtly looked at their Lady of Autumn for indication of how they should react. 

But Leonora, calm and collected per usual, just gave Y/N a gentle smile. She nodded to the seamstress that was kneeling at Y/N’s foot to continue her work. 

Then she looked up at Y/N without judgment or worry, but with an encouraging smirk and soft eyes. “Why would it not be wise for the mate of our new High Lord to attend his coronation, Y/N?” 

The witch finally looked up from the ground to meet her gaze. “Will it not give the people of his Court the wrong idea? I am not the next Lady of Autumn, nor have I accepted his bond. I do not wish to put Eris in an uncomfortable position.” 

Leonora gave a sad nod. “I see…” she sighed. 

She turned around and gave everyone in the room a soft request to leave the two of them. 

Y/N’s heart started beating faster as she watched them all quietly exit. 

Was Leonora about to scold her? Yell at her for refusing to accept her son as his mate? 

No, that couldn’t be it.

Leonora had been nothing but kind to Y/N since they met. Never once did she pressure her on behalf of Eris. She hardly ever brought up their relationship. Most of the time, Y/N felt like Leonora was just happy to have a new female friend in the Forest House, especially after so long of being a prisoner here. 

Leonora offered Y/N her hand to help her off the platform she was standing on for the seamstresses. Then she held both of her hands gently as she told her, “You forget, Y/N, that you are more to Autumn Court than simply the mate of its new High Lord.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed. 

Leonora smiled. “You are their savior. Yes, it was Eris who slayed Beron in the end. But he would not have had the courage or strength to do so without you. Most in this Court despised and feared Beron Vanserra. You have given this Court a chance for change.”

Y/N’s face grew hot from the praise. 

Leonora gave her a sympathetic look before adding, “But also I cannot say that as Eris’ mother, I do not also have selfish motives, as well. You make him stronger. I worry how he will be if he if he goes through such a coronation alone.” 

“But you and Lucien will be there,” Y/N tried to argue. 

Leonora tilted her head and gave her a look. “It is not the same, and I think you know that, my dear.” 

Then she looked down at the beginnings of the dress on Y/N’s body that the seamstresses had begun.

“As for the dress, Eris wishes to spoil you with finery and I can’t argue with his intentions,” Leonora teased with a smirk. 

But her expression sobered. “However, I know neither he nor anyone else will fault you for avoiding such a celebration. So much has been thrust upon you, and in so little time. You must do what is best for you.” 

Y/N frowned and looked down at herself. “I will let them finish the dress – if only to please everyone. I would feel bad for throwing away all their hard work they’ve already done.”

Leonora nodded. “I think that is a wonderful idea.” 

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

In the following weeks, the Forest House was bustling with activity. 

Apparently, the coronation included inviting every High Lord and Lady of of Prythian. 

Which meant the servants and cooks were frantic with preparations. Lucien had explained to her that the staff saw this as an opportunity to show why Autumn Court should be considered the best of Prythian. With a new High Lord came a new chance to prove that Autumn Court could change for the better and they were not to be overlooked. 

Therefore, Y/N tried to stay out of everyone’s way. She either hid in the library, continuing her personal research or she was in her workshop, keeping herself busy with spells and potions. 

However, on the day of the coronation, she stayed hidden in her bedchambers, scared that leaving would only bring attention to the fact that she would not be attending the festivities. 

Maids and seamstresses had knocked on her door early in the morning. But Y/N simply ignored them, not wanting to see the looks of disappointment when she told them she would not be going to the coronation. 

Y/N tried to distract herself by the fire, sitting on a chaise lounge with a romance novel in hand when more aggressive knocking came at the door. 

She planned on ignoring it again, but then she recognized the group of voices on the other side. 

“Y/N, if you do not open the door, we will break it down!” Nesta threatened loudly. 

She jumped up and hurried to the door to whip it open. 

On the other side, were her three Valkyrie sisters: Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie. 

Not only that, but they clearly dressed and done up for the coronation.

Nesta wore a simple black, velvet dress. But it was not simple in the way that it fit her body like a glove and edged toward risqué. Y/N had always appreciated how Night Court attire never strayed from being seductive and showing skin. Gwyn wore a more elegant black dress, which made Y/N wonder if Nesta was using her mate’s money to buy her friends luxurious gowns. Emerie wore leathers, that could have been a warrior’s uniform, over pants. Though less feminine, they were still formal and lavish in their own way.

When the Illyrian saw Y/N eyeing her outfit, she shrugged. “I was never really one for gowns…”

“You all look beautiful,” Y/N muttered. “B-But w-what are you doing here?” Y/N gasped in shock. 

“We’re here for you, obviously!” Gwyn urged and pulled Y/N into a warm hug. 

“Eris invited us,” Emerie confirmed with a smile, also walking into her rooms. 

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Nesta asked, looking Y/N up and down as she closed the door behind them. 

Y/N frowned. “I…I am not going.” Her eyes stayed down, scared to see their reactions to such a confession. 

But, without hesitation, Gwyn announced, “Then we will stay in here and drink ourselves silly!” 

Y/N’s jaw dropped at how unfazed her friends were. “B-But you will miss the festivities. And you all look so lovely.” 

Nesta rolled her eyes. “This will not be our last opportunity to dress up. We would much rather hang out with you than all the stuffy High Lords and their nobles.” 

Then Emerie nudged Nesta. “But we must still tell her our plan.” 

“Plan?” Y/N questioned, eyes scanning all of them. 

“Helion Spell-Cleaver will be in attendance!” Gwyn squealed. 

Y/N’s brow furrowed, immediately thinking of Leonora and Lucien. She wondered if the Lady of Autumn would ever reveal to her past lover and her youngest son of the secret relation. Or if Leonora would ever follow her heart and return to Helion. 

“Yes, all of the High Lord’s have been invited…” Y/N muttered, not understanding their clear excitement. 

“Helion is the sole owner of the last of the pegasuses,” Emerie explained. 

Nesta rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “And he makes sure to remind everyone of it, using them as his transport to any event he possibly can.” 

Y/N’s amusement dropped for concern. “Please, please, please tell me you do not plan on stealing Helion’s pegasuses.” 

“Don’t be silly,” Gwyn brushed off. “However, we do plan on sneaking into their enclosure to give them some pets.” 

“And perhaps seducing Helion into giving us one or two…” Nesta added while looking at her nails. Y/N gaped at her. “What? He’s already propositioned me to join an orgy once when I visited Day Court.”

“Yes, before you accepted Cassian as your mate!” Emerie pointed out. 

Nesta quirked a brow. “Who said Cassian would not be participating?”

“Those smutty books of yours have given you too many ideas,” Y/N laughed. 

“More like inspiration,” Nesta corrected. “And inspiration that my mate is very enthusiastic about trying.” Then she pointed to the book Y/N had been reading when they arrived and quirked a brow. "Do not pretend you are above them."

“OK. Enough about your bedroom habits!” Gwyn interrupted. Then she turned her attention to Y/N. “Are you in or are you out?” 

The witch smiled. “Of course I’m in.” 

Minutes later, they were sneaking around the Forest House, Y/N led them toward where she assumed any guests horses would be quartered for the night.

But before they could reach it, a gust of wind wrapped around the females. 

“He…needs…you,” The wind whispered to Y/N. “Go…to…him. He cannot…do this…without you.” 

Y/N froze in the hallway. 

“What? What is it?” Emerie asked. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered. “Eris needs me. I will catch up to you later.”

“Oh, for Cauldron’s sake!” Gwyn cried. “As if we would make you go alone.”

“She’s right,” Nesta added. “Someone needs to do your hair and makeup.” 

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

Eris swore his back had a metal pole along his spine with out tense and stiff his posture was. He knew his expressions were cold and unwelcoming. But he was in a room with too many people he had yet to decipher friend or foe. The nobles of Autumn Court smiled at him, but most only wanted good favor with the new High Lord. And for those that weren’t smiling, there were plenty that looked at him with fear or uneasiness, trying to gauge if he was just as bad as Beron. 

His mother kept giving him tense, but encouraging smiles every time he spotted her in the crowded hall. 

When to use his mask and when to reveal his true self, Eris did not know. 

It was easier when Y/N was by his side. She eased him, reminded him of who he truly was. The mask never felt needed when her scent surrounded him. 

But his mate was not here, nor was she coming. 

And Eris couldn’t blame her. These events of politics and groveling were conniving at their best and boring at their worst. If he could skip it too, he would have. But that was no way to officially take over the throne of a broken court that needed mending. 

Eris once again caught sight of a group of courtier daughters. They whispered and giggled at him, hardly even bothering to subdue their staring. And it hadn’t gone unnoticed how they seemed to edge closer and closer as the night went on. 

Yes, Eris was handsome and powerful. Female attention was not something he was unaccustomed to. But he knew what those females were truly after were the wealth and power being married to a High Lord would bring. It didn’t matter that everyone knew of his mortal witch mate. They wanted him for themselves regardless. 

His attire did nothing to help him blend in to the crowd. New, custom armor glinted against the thousands of candles and faelight surrounding them. And the blood red cloak stood out – even in Autumn Court.

Eris threw back the rest of his faerie wine, hoping he could get drunk enough to keep his wits about him, while also making the evening go by faster. 

“Another?” A male voice offered from over his shoulder. 

Eris turned to see Rhysand handing him another full glass, Feyre glued to his side with a knowing smirk. 

“I promise I did not poison it,” Rhysand added.  

“At this point, you would be doing me a favor,” Eris grumbled, taking a sip immediately. 

Rhysand smirked. “Already over being High Lord, Eris?”

“I became High Lord to make my Court a better place, not to rub shoulders with nobles and courtiers who wish to use me to gain favor…”

“And I’m sure being away from Y/N is only making your mood more sour,” Feyre muttered more teasingly. 

“She may do what pleases her. I’m sure her Valkyries have found her by now and are keeping her company.” 

“Are you quite sure about that…” Feyre asked as she looked behind Eris. 

The High Lord of Autumn Court quickly turned to follow her gaze. 

At the entrance of the great hall stood Y/N. 

Eris felt the invisible string attached to his heart go taut. A feeling Y/N had not experienced, and probably never would. 

Despite her entrance not being formally announced, many had gone quiet and began to stare. 

Someone had pulled Y/N’s hair up and done her makeup. Though Eris found her beautiful regardless, the level of glamour around her made her magnetic. 

Meanwhile, Y/N held her head high as she slowly, yet confidently, walked further into the room. She was doing a good job of ignoring the scrutiny, but Eris could tell that she was more than aware of the staring. 

Her dress fit her perfectly. And while most attendees wore green and the rustic browns of the court, Y/N had not strayed away from vibrant red, almost looking as if she were glowing like fire itself. Eris realized it matched with his own cloak. There were strips of black in her gown that felt like a call out to her short time in Night Court, where she had already gained respect and acceptance.

Eris wanted to go to her immediately. But he had to hold himself back. There was a reason she was late and walked in alone, instead of on his arm. It was clear that she worried about making his court believe she had accepted the mating bond. 

But if Eris had his way, he’d use his magic to shove everyone out of the path from Y/N to him. He’d stop any conversation he was having – no matter how rude or undiplomatic it was – to give her his full attention and affection. 

“Will you not go to her?” Feyre asked, concern obvious in her tone. 

Y/N’s friends of the Night Court were unaware of the the change in her relationship with the High Lord of Autumn. They did not realize how far the two had come, how much had changed. Everything was so much more complicated than how it had begun: a male desperately hiding his mate in a court that was not his. 

–🍁–

Y/N felt the eyes on her. She wondered if all of them were judgment or if there was also just innocent curiosity. 

She wished she’d forced the Valkyries to drink heavily with her before leaving her bedchambers, because being sober for this felt like a cruel torture. 

The three of them convinced Y/N that she needed to walk in without them. That she needed to walk in confident and independent.

But Y/N underestimated how many stares she'd receive in return.

So, she decided to straight line to where refreshments were being served. Feyre had once warned her away from fae wine, for it is far too strong for mortals to consume in the same manner as fae.

But right now, Y/N didn’t care. 

Of course she couldn’t make it there without overhearing a group of females. Whether they had noticed her arrival, she had yet to discern. 

“Now that his dreadful father is dead, I wonder where the High Lord will find his…entertainment,” one female said somewhat quietly. 

Another chimed in with, “I once heard he would only bed harlots at pleasure halls in other Courts, in fear that Beron would kill any female who could sire a child from him.” 

“But now he has a mate. Surely that means any and all of our efforts will be wasted,” a third female added. 

“Oh, please.” The first female scoffed. Y/N didn’t have to look at her to know that she was rolling her eyes. “She is not even a fae. Truly, how long do you believe we will have to stay away before her mortal life ends?” 

This is a terrible mistake, Y/N thought. She should have never shown her face here. This was exactly what she had been wanting to avoid. 

Obviously Eris was a desired male – High Lord or not. And who was she to get in the way of him finding a suitor that was of his Court, of his own kind? 

But, suddenly, the females stopped talking abruptly. 

Had they finally noticed Y/N’s presence? Did they even care enough to make sure she didn’t overhear such things? 

“High Lord Eris,” the first one greeted overly sweet. “How lovely of you to join us.” 

Y/N whipped around to find Eris’ eyes already locked to hers as he stood a few feet away from her. 

He ignored the female High Fae entirely, not even glancing in her direction. 

Y/N didn’t know how to address him in such a setting. She looked around before starting to lower her head into a bow. 

You do not bow to anyone, Rhysand’s voice suddenly snuck into her head. 

With her dress and fanciful jewelry, Y/N had removed her protective amulet that stopped any daemati from entering her mind. That meant the High Lord and Lady of Night Court were free to speak to her mind freely.

Ignore them, Rhysand added. He has been waiting for you all night. 

Eris didn’t greet Y/N verbally. Because nothing would’ve felt right. 

But his eyes said everything. 

And slowly he offered her his hand. 

Y/N’s chest heaved as she put her glass down before stepping forward and lightly placing her hand in his grip. 

Without breaking eye contact, Eris lowered his mouth and kissed it. 

Without hesitating, he pulled Y/N to him and tucked her hand under his arm so it gripped his bicep. Then he placed his other hand over it, securing her further to his side. 

Without asking for direction, Y/N quietly followed him as he guided them to the center of the room. 

There was suddenly a female gasp from behind them. Eris didn’t turn, but Y/N looked over her shoulder to see that the first female from the group was covered in red wine. So much so that it was dripping off of her fine gown.

And there was Nesta… holding an empty glass with a smug, but melodramatically innocent look. Gwyn and Emerie were trying to hide their amusement.

"My mistake," Nesta gasped deviously.

Y/N didn’t know when her friends had joined her, but clearly it was early enough that they had caught the dreadful things those females had been saying about her and her mate with their fae hearing. 

Then there was a screech of fear and a soft growl. 

She looked down to see that her new little pet fox, Ronan, was nipping and growling at the group of rude females. How he escaped from her bedchambers was beyond her. But clearly he didn’t like being away from her. 

Y/N bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at the sight. 

Then she whistled softly and Ronan’s head snapped in her direction. He didn’t need another command, so he floppily ran to her and Eris, trotting along beside them. 

When she turned forward again, Y/N realized Eris was leading them to the throne. 

And with the wave of his hand, Eris pushed his throne over a foot and a second one appeared magically beside it. 

Y/N’s head whipped to him, wanting to ask him what in the Cauldron he was doing. 

But then she realized he was making a statement. There were some who would question her and her relationship with their new High Lord. But Eris was announcing to everyone that she was to be treated and respected as their High Lady, whether she accepted his bond or not. 

“Eris,” she whispered in a hiss. 

Her anxiety was skyrocketing at the statement he was about to make. 

But he ignored her subtle plea, and instead just said, “Head high, little witch.” 

He guided her carefully up the steps that led to the throne and waited for her to sit before he took his own. 

The room quieted and turned their attention to Eris. 

Y/N controlled her expressions, but her heart was racing from confusion of what she was meant to do. 

They will crown him now, Rhysand’s voice entered Y/N’s mind again. He wants you at his side, therefore you belong there. Act like you know it. 

Y/N found both Rhysand and Feyre in the crowd, which was fairly easy since they were the only people wearing black in a sea of mostly Autumn Colors – except for the other High Lords that were in attendance. 

The couple gave her encouraging grins. Then she found Cassian, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie standing next to them, doing the same. 

Cassian gave her a proud and beaming smile. 

Y/N listened as one of Eris’ advisors started speaking the ritual of crowning the newest High Lord. 

It was shorter than she expected. Though she struggled with paying attention, too focused on maintaining her posture and composure while being put on the same display as Eris. 

Then the advisor was standing behind Eris, slowly lowering a rustic golden crown atop his head. It was in the shape of fallen leaves, with subtle hints of autumn red and green in the detailing. 

As soon as it settled on his head, Eris turned to Y/N with his hand outstretched to her. 

Without hesitation, she took it.

Together they stood. 

The room immediately lowered into a bow – except for the other High Lords, who only subtly bowed their head in respect. 

Y/N found Leonora’s gaze amongst them and she had a proud smile on her lips, but it was not only directed at her son. 

Eris helped Y/N sit once again. 

People started moving closer toward the throne. 

Y/N realized the courtiers and lords were swearing their allegiance now. 

A male high fae stepped forward first, bowing his strawberry blonde head deeply. 

“Lord Foley,” Eris greeted indifferently. 

The male bowed his head again and then turned his gaze to Y/N, opening his mouth to formally introduce himself to her. 

“You are Eoghan Foley?” Y/N asked him before he could speak. 

The males eyes widened in surprise. 

“You own the majority of farms in the south east territory, correct?”

The male looked even more surprised. 

Eris smirked at his mate, deciding to let her speak while he watched. 

“You are known for paying your farmers the most, even when Beron underpaid you in an attempt to raise competition amongst other lords.” 

Eoghan bowed his head. “My workers deserve a fair wage, Lady Y/N. When treated with respect they are more inclined to stay and there is less loss.” 

Y/N then turned to Eris, having a silent conversation with their eyes. 

“And for that, you shall be rewarded,” Eris’ voice came out strong and confident. And the entire room could clearly hear it. His gaze moved about the room. “The days of exploitation are over. Those of Autumn Court deserve to be paid for their work. Such competition only turns us against each other.” His eyes moved back to the lord. “A bonus will be delivered to you before nightfall tomorrow, Lord Foley.” 

The male looked taken aback at such a decision. He half-expected to find that Eris was no better than his tyrant father. But he was instantly proven wrong. 

“T-Thank you High Lord Eris,” he said with another bow. Then he looked up at Y/N before turning his gaze to the floor. “And to you, Lady Y/N. Our people are already indebted to you for bringing Autumn Court back into the light.”

“I hear your wife is a talented sculptor, Lord Foley.” Y/N noted with kindness in her eyes. “I hope to see her work for myself someday.” 

“Any time you wish, Lady Y/N.” 

“Enough business and politics for tonight,” Eris announced once Lord Foley had moved back into the crowd. 

Then he eyed the other High Lords who were in attendance. All of them had been studying him and his interactions carefully. “Otherwise, we shall be spilling Autumn’s secrets to our guests who have their own Courts to govern.” 

His courtiers laughed lightly at his joke. 

With the swipe of Eris’ hand, the lighting in the room darkened to a moodier setting. And the symphony took their signal to begin playing music. 

The guests started coupling up to dance. 

Once again, Eris stood and offered Y/N his hand. 

She took it, but moved close to his side so she could whisper, “I do not know these formal dances.” 

Eris squeezed her hand tightly. “Trust me,” he simply whispered back.

When they entered the center of the dance floor, Eris pulled them into the proper stance. “I will lead. Just relax and do not overthink it.” 

And Y/N did just that. 

Either the steps were not as complicated as she had presumed or Eris was good dance partner. But they swayed across the floor. And despite hundreds of eyes watching them, the room disappeared around them, and it was just them. 

“Thank you for saving me,” Eris whispered in her ear as he pulled her even closer. 

Y/N knew this closeness was more immoral and informal, but she needed it. And if it was improper, Eris didn’t seem to care one bit. 

“I hardly did anything,” Y/N admitted softly. 

“You did more than you could ever understand,” he countered quickly. “You continue to be my savior, Y/N.”

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” Y/N confessed softly. Her lips quirked as she added, “The worst loneliness is felt while surrounded by others.” Repeating her past statement from the night he had confessed how lonely he'd once been in this court.

Eris stopped abruptly, pulling their dance to a halt.

His eyes slowly went from her eyes to her lips. 

Y/N knew he wanted to kiss her. She could feel it. And she would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t want him to, as well.

Eris was calculating how safe it was to show such affection to his mate so publicly. Another voice in his head was telling him he should to whatever he damn well pleased. 

A deep voice cleared their throat behind her. 

They turned to see Cassian standing with his hands clasped behind his back. 

He gave a polite bow to them. “I was hoping to share a dance with my favorite witch.” 

Y/N smiled at his playfulness. But she also saw the hidden message in his gaze. Her friend was trying to save her if she so wanted it. 

She turned back to Eris, half expecting him to be giving the Illyrian a death glare. But the High Lord only nodded, and slowly removed Y/N from his grasp. 

“She has much to share with her friends,” Eris offered him.

“Shall we?” Cassian asked her with his hand offered. 

The Illyrian's dancing just further proved how skilled Eris was. But Y/N didn't mind Cassian's clumsy feet.

“I am the only witch you know,” she glared playfully at him. 

“Yes, but if I were to ever meet any more, you would still be my favorite.” He spun her sloppily, ignoring the steps everyone else was following. 

He lowered his voice as he said, “I only wanted to offer you an escape. It seems tensions are high between the two of you…” 

“Thank you,” Y/N told him with a frown. “I fear I am lost.” 

His brow furrowed as he turned them. “How so?” 

Her eyes surprisingly welled with tears. “Cassian…I-I-I love him.”

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

I know it took me a long time to update. But I worked really hard on this. And I loved putting together everyone's outfits. 🥹

Please leave a lovely comment. You know I love a book report. @pancakefancake

[myimaginesandrp]

THE ENDING OMGGGGG!!!!

I haven’t been online for e minute and catch in yo on this story made my day! I love these two 🥰

[myimaginesandrp]

It's my 7 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

chapter xxi – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 3,000+

masterlist

Y/N had been tossing and turning for nearly three hours now.

She’d spent the night helping the human women and children get settled into one of the great halls in the Forest House. Food and water had been waiting for them upon their arrival, as well as fluffy cots for them all to sleep on with countless blankets and pillows. 

Eris had lingered in the doorway, not wanting to scare their new guests or hover over Y/N as she tried to help them. But he wanted to make sure they had what they needed and his staff knew they were to provide whatever was required. 

Now, Y/N couldn’t sleep. She still worried for the humans. But most of all, a weight of guilt was heavy in her gut. They had been prisoners this whole time. It had been nearly a year since she escaped from her captors. And all this time of freedom, they were still captive. 

Two of Eris’ hounds were sleeping on her bed, keeping her feet warm. 

Y/N almost always had at least two of them with her when she was on the estate. They started taking turns sleeping with her.

Eris had made a comment about making them soft, but he couldn’t hide his little smirk of amusement from Y/N – she always caught it. 

Now both of the dogs' heads shot up and they started whining as they faced the window. 

“What is it?” Y/N hushed them as she pet their heads.

Then a window flew open and the wind rushed in. But it said nothing to her. 

Y/N tiptoed out of bed and went to the window. 

Below, even from such heights, she could recognize Eris’ red hair as he walked out of the protective walls of the Forest House and into the surrounding woods. 

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep tonight. 

“Go…to…him,” the wind called to her. 

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice.

Not having timing to change, she threw a thick, forest green cloak over her nightgown – mostly for modesty sake. But she forwent shoes, deciding sprinting down the dark halls of the Forest House would be sneakier barefoot. 

The two smoke hounds jumped off the bed as soon as she was rushing around the room. They looked both anxious and excited by the movement. 

“Stay here,” Y/N ordered gently with a pointed finger. 

Both of them whined, not liking their second master going anywhere without them. 

Y/N hurried out he door and closed it behind her so they couldn’t ignore her command and follow her. 

She was almost completely silent as she ran through the hallways. It was late enough in the night that most servants were sleeping. 

But when Y/N reached outside, there were guards doing rounds at the gate that led out to the forest she had seen Eris walking towards. 

Surely these guards would stop her, thinking that she was trying to escape to the Mortal Realm. Yes, they all respected Y/N and treated her like she was already their Lady of Autumn. But Y/N didn’t trust that they would believe she was following after their High Lord. 

Y/N lifted the hood of her cloak, hiding her face in shadow. 

Then she closed her eyes and started an incantation. It was strong, but short-lived: hiding her very presence from anyone who would look in her direction. It turned her almost invisible, making her somewhat of a ghost. It could only really last a few moments and only worked for one person. But it got the job done as Y/N skipped out the open gate and then fell into a sprint. 

The wind directed her to Eris’ path, whispering paths or shaking the leaves of branches to follow.

Y/N wasn’t foolish enough to leave without a weapon and had strapped her gifted knife to her thigh, barely hidden under the thin fabric of her nightgown. 

The forest was so thick that it was even darker than the night sky should allow. The moon wasn’t full, but a waning third-quarter moon. A time of recovery and release, Y/N thought to herself. Her mother and coven would always tell her it was a time for self-care and reflection.

Eventually, she reached a large lake that was surrounded by trees with trunks wider than 5 people. 

That’s when she spotted him. 

In the center of the lake was a platform, and Eris stood upon in. He was wearing loose linen trousers and no shirt. 

Despite the darkness of the moon and forest, Autumn Court’s High Lord seemed to glow like a flame. But Y/N believed she would have found him easily no matter what. 

She hid behind a tree, watching Eris from shadow. 

Eris was summoning his flame and power. And Y/N had never seen him unleash it at such a level. The distance of lake between the two of them kept her at a safe distance. But Y/N still wondered if it was a mistake as walls of fire erupted around them. 

A phoenix of flame had wings that reached from one end of the lake to the other as it soared across the water. 

Y/N could feel the burning warmth so strongly that her eyes watered in pain and irritation. She shielded her face. 

There was a small break in Eris’ powers as he brought them back in. 

Suddenly, an animal of some sort seemed to want to expose Y/N, breaking a twig right behind her. And Eris caught the sound and whipped his head in its direction. Stupid fae and their advanced hearing...

Y/N quickly hid fully behind the tree trunk. 

After a few moments, she peaked back around. 

But Eris was no longer on the platform in the middle of the lake. 

“Spying are we, little witch?”

Y/N yelped and jumped as she whipped around to see Eris standing just mere inches behind her. God, she despised the advantage fae had over her with winnowing. 

Eris seemed pleased with himself for scaring her so easily. 

Y/N couldn’t help herself and looked across his bare chest. His skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, proving that he was exerting himself with his practicing.

Had his muscles gotten even bigger since yesterday? Y/N blinked, snapping herself out of such thoughts. 

She glared at his amusement. “I saw you leave the Forest House.” 

Eris hummed as he gave a slow nod. 

“What are you doing out here?” She asked, looking around them. 

Without giving her a chance to prepare herself, Eris gently grabbed her forearm. And then they were winnowing.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was standing on the pier in the water that she’d found Eris on. 

“Could you not give me a warning?” Y/N growled as she gently shoved herself away from him. 

“It is much more fun this way,” Eris side with a smirk. “I have realized I enjoy getting you irritated with me.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh, do you?” 

His smirk faltered a bit. “Yes, I do. It’s better than when you ignore me completely.” 

Her mouth dropped a bit at the honesty. “Ignoring you is not my intention. If anything, I worry that I am bothersome. You are a High Lord now – and a new one at that. You have more important things to do than entertain me.” 

His eyes darkened. “And who told you that?” 

“I did,” she huffed back. 

Before he could respond, she changed the subject. “You still haven’t told me what you are doing out here all by yourself.” 

“I will tell you if you tell my why you are awake.” 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Y/N answered easily. “I have been tossing and turning all night, worrying about them.” 

Eris knew the ‘them’ she spoke of were the humans they were currently offering sanctuary to. 

“They are safe here, Y/N. I have made sure of it.” 

Y/N shook her head as her eyes glazed over. “All this time… I went from galavanting around in Night Court to doing the same here, being treated like royalty – all why they were still prisoners. No! Slaves!” 

“Y/N, you are not responsible for the crimes of my family and their followers. You saved them once already. Then you saved them a second time today. And I know you asked Rhysand to send out a search party for them when you first arrived at the Night Court.” 

Then Eris grabbed her face softly. “You saved them, Y/N. Do you understand?” 

She couldn’t turn away from his auburn eyes. They lit something in her soul. So she nodded at what he told her, letting him convince her. She was too tired to fight against him. 

“Your turn,” she muttered softly. 

Eris dropped his hands from her face and took a few steps away from her. The pier didn’t allow for much more. 

When he didn’t speak right away, Y/N became stressed. “Do you regret keeping your brother alive?” 

Along with the human refugees, Y/N had been losing sleep over Eris possibly resenting her for stopping him from killing his brother, Aurelius. 

“Perhaps,” Eris answered slowly. “But that regret would not be at you, Y/N.” 

He turned his back to her and looked out at the surrounding lake and forest. 

“My brother is conniving. Keeping him alive is a risk. Even drugged with faebane and locked away, he still a danger to this court.”

“Then why not ignore me?” Y/N challenged. “Why not go through with killing him?” 

Eris said nothing for a few moments, keeping his back to her. Finally, he muttered, “Beron would have done it.” 

Y/N frowned and stepped forward. She gently grabbed his bicep and turned him around to face her. “Yes, Beron would have done it. But isn’t that further proof that you did the right thing by sparing Aurelius? It is easy to rule with fear and pain. But only a great ruler can be just and merciful. Do not let your father convince you that benevolence is a weakness.” 

Eris stared in her gaze, his face softening with her declaration. 

Then he held up his palm and a ball of flame hovered about it. 

Eris looked down at it as he explained. “I was consumed by this new power when I killed Beron. I’ve never known such force. It begs to be released, aching in my soul and beneath my skin. Even worse, its tied to my emotions.”

Y/N waited for him to continue. 

“Today I wanted to burn down the entire city. For my brother to even attempt to usurp me…and all while you insisted on being at my side. It’s only by sheer luck that I didn’t kill everyone who was on that battle field and beyond.” 

“But you didn’t,” Y/N argued, taking half a step toward him. 

“Nonetheless, I came out here to…release it.” 

“Release your power?” Y/N asked through a squint. 

He nodded. “This particular forest is enchanted. Invulnerable to fire, even my own.” 

“And I’m sure the water only helps,” Y/N added as she looked down at the lake they were standing on top of. 

Eris nodded again. “I fear a day will come when I cannot control it. And someone I care about will get hurt because of it.” He hesitated before adding, “Someone like you.” 

Y/N smiled gently at his concern. “Just because I am human, does not mean I am as fragile as you presume, High Lord of Autumn Court…” 

Mischief filled her eyes suddenly.

And with a light shove, she pushed Eris off the platform. 

The action was so unexpected and he had been standing at the very edge of the platform, that it barely took any energy to get Eris falling backward into the water. 

When Eris emerged from the lake, he was still processing what Y/N had just done. 

Meanwhile, Y/N was laughing so hard that her stomach hurt. The sound alone eliminated any possibility of Eris being even remotely irritated with her ploys. 

“You mischievous little witch,” Eris growled as he treaded water. 

But she knew there was no anger behind it.

Y/N shrugged with a glint in her eye. “It was an accident.” 

Before Eris could respond, a gust of wind shot out from behind Y/N – as dangerous as a tornado.

Her smile dropped as the wind was strong enough to knock her off balance and have her tripping off the platform, falling into the water. 

Y/N resurfaced, gasping for breath due to the shock of it all. She had fallen in with her cloak, and it weighed heavy now that it was heavy. She balled it up in her hand and threw it on top of the platform. 

Eris was swimming just a few feet away from her and he was…he was…laughing? His head was thrown back and he was laughing with his whole body. 

And all Y/N could do in return was stare. 

“Serves you right,” he managed to tell her through his laughter. 

But then he realized she was watching him so blankly. 

Eris’ laughing slowed as he started to look concerned, and swam closer to her. “What? What is it?”

Y/N blinked. “I am…I am not sure I have ever heard you laugh like that…” 

Her body controlled her next actions entirely. Or perhaps it was her heart controlling. 

Y/N swam forward until her lips crashed onto Eris’. 

There was a moment of clear shock from him, but only for a moment. Then his hands were all over her. One hand gripped her hip and brought them to his waist. And she heedlessly wrapped her legs around him. Eris’ other hand gripped the sweet spot between the back of her head and neck, stopping her from pulling away as he pushed the kiss forward to even more passionate grounds. 

Eris slightly lifted her higher in his grip so she was further out of the water. It was then Y/N realized that without her cloak the water had made her white nightgown completely transparent. 

And Eris noticed, too. 

His eyes moved down, staring at Y/N's exposed body with lust and passion – and dare she say…love? 

Y/N froze as Eris moved his lips to her right shoulder, then her clavicle, then the left side of her neck. All while both his hands tightened on her waist, bringing her closer as if he couldn’t stand what tiny, insignificant space there was between their bodies. 

She had never been touched like this. And the novelty of it snapped her out of the desirous haze. 

Y/N pushed herself out of Eris grip, and tried to ignore the heartbreak in his gaze as she did. 

“I-I-I’m sorry,” she stuttered in a whisper. “I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have done that.”

Without giving him time to react, she started swimming to the shore where she’d first found Eris. 

But when she walked out of the lake, Eris had already winnowed there and was handing Y/N her cloak – now fully dry from his magic. 

She snatched it from and walked past him, heading back toward the Forest House. 

But Eris wasn’t going to let this happen again. 

“No,” he growled as he easily caught up to her. Then he completely cut off her path. “No more of this.” 

Y/N was breathing heavily, only staring back at him. It seemed she was still trying to catch her breath from their kiss.

Eris moved closer to her. “What is it you are so frightened of? Is it me? Do I scare you?” 

The question snapped her out of it. “No! Of course not!” 

“Then what is it? Why do you keep running from me? I know you feel it. You may not feel the mating bond as I do, but I know you feel…something.” 

Tears stung her eyes. “I am…n-nobody, Eris.” 

Self-hatred filled his soul as he watched the tears slowly slide down her face. 

“You are trying to rebuild a broken court. And all the while, there are those who wish to steal it from you.” She took in a shaky breath. “Eris, you need allies. You need a marriage of diplomacy, not love.” 

Her voice trembled as she finally stated, “I cannot give you anything.” 

Eris stood there, in shock. 

This is what’s haunted her mind? After all this time, her forced distance had nothing to do with him? But everything to do with his status? 

“This is how you see yourself?” He whispered. 

“I am not of noble blood,” Y/N whispered. “I am not even fae. What will the people of Autumn Court think to see their new High Lord with a lowly mortal, one that knows nothing of their ways? I am no more than a child to them…” 

“Y/N,” Eris begged as he reached out for her. 

“No!” She pointed at him. “Don’t. I have more to say.”

Eris’ moth snapped shut. 

“Why do you ignore that I am only mortal?” More tears fled from her eyes as she hissed, “You will live forever, Eris. And I will die. Maybe it will be in 50 years, but maybe it will be sooner. It doesn’t matter because my lifetime will be the blink of an eye for you.” 

Y/N was now sobbing. “I do not know why the Cauldron was so cruel, choosing me as your mate.” 

She shook her head, trying to get a handle on her emotions. 

And every time Eris tried to take a step toward Y/N, desperate to comfort her, she would shake her head in warning. 

Y/N sniffed and declared, “I think it is best if we keep our distance.” 

“Y/N…” Eris begged in a whisper. 

There was so much for him to say. Had he known this was really how she truly felt about him, about the two of them…then he would’ve been more prepared. But he had been blindsided and he couldn’t find the words to tell her how wrong she was about him, about everything.

“Please,” she whimpered. “I want to be left alone. Please, Eris.” 

And then she rushed away, practically running back to the Forest House. 

–––––––––

It took me awhile to write a new chapter bc I've been so busy and my season depression has been...not fun.

Please let me know if you liked the chapter. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

[myimaginesandrp]

[tiredofsatansbullshit]

me, reading my own wips: oh my gosh no ways. that's so good. what happens next though????

[ad-wills]

[astroboots]

EVERY YOU EVERY ME #11.5 SPECIAL

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Let’s start from the beginning one last time.

Word count: 5,800

Warning: Heavy angst and character death. Dead Dove do not eat.

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[Previous] [TBC]

Let’s start from the beginning one last time. 

My name is Miguel O’Hara, and in an experiment gone wrong, my genetic code was partially rewritten with Spider DNA, giving me superpowers.

My home is Earth 928-C where I was the one and only Spiderman... of my home dimension at least.

I invented and built a dimensional travel device that allowed me to jump between universes with the goal of exploring the limits of the multiverse. 

And then I met a woman in this other world who nearly died from a crazy freak accident.

I saved her of course.

Then I saved her again.

And again, and again.

... And again.

We fell in love, and I decided to stay with her in her world.

You know the rest. We got married. We had a life together.

I was happy. Really happy. 

For a while.

[Earth 383-D]

3 YEARS AGO

"Goddamn idiot bird," Miguel mutters under his breath.

Vulture is on the loose again, wreaking havoc on the city. The maniac is flying high above the city grounds, leaving a trail of mayhem in his wake. 

Miguel's been in pursuit for the better half of two hours. In that time, the bird has derailed the High Line, literally hit a traffic light and managed to knock over the spire on the Statue of Liberty as if he was flying under the influence.

Then somehow flew across town through Tribeca, along Lower Manhattan and Greenwich Village and now reached all the way to Midtown Manhattan. 

Dumbass ugly stupid bird. 

Miguel digs his claws into the exterior of the limestone and granite of the Empire State Building to steady himself, using the momentum to leap forward.

The Vulture crashes into a skyscraper 50 feet ahead of Miguel, and in the mad dash, he can see a man tumble out of the building head first to the ground from the 30th floor. 

Swinging forward, Miguel slings out a web from his palm, catching the screaming and sobbing office worker in midair and lands briefly against the windowpane. He ensures the man is secured to the building in a cocoon of webbing until the fire department can get him to safer grounds.

Miguel doesn't even get a second to catch his breath. From afar, he can pick up the sound of another window being crashed into by the unwieldy metal bird. 

Crap. 

It's impossible for Miguel to both chase the Vulture and keep everyone else in his path of destruction safe. One superhero can't be in two places at once (none that he has encountered).

Gritting his teeth, Miguel leaps off the building swinging freely into the air to make up on the lost ground between him and the metallic cuckoo bird.

He needs backup, and the backup is unfortunately running late.

Where is he? Why is he always late?

Does that man not understand that when someone calls for backup because of an emergency, the emergency part indicates that there's some urgency to it?

Flying through the air 100 feet above the ground, from the corner of his eyes, Miguel catches the familiar garish red flowing cape that billows from the cowl of the grand cloak and suit. 

Miguel would know that weird wizard get-up anywhere. 

"Strange!" Miguel calls out, and he can feel irritation rattle in his chest. "You're late! Where the shock were you?"

"The word you're looking for is 'fuck.' Where the fuck was I," the man responds with a sarcastic drawl.

Strange levitates through the air, effortlessly without expending any energy at all as he catches up with Miguel. "You gave me no notice. Be happy I showed up at all."

From a distance he sees the dumb bird soar high up into the sky and towards the all too familiar crowned roof of the Chrysler building. 

No. nononono. 

Why is he there? What is he doing there? Anywhere but there. 

His back flashes cold then burning hot as the Vulture makes a straight beeline for the familiar building.

It’s fine. Maybe he’s not going to fly in there. Maybe he’s just going to fly past it.

Miguel watches as the metallic bird soars up and up and up, past the midpoint of the building, past the 40th floor of your office and up to the 50th floor. The tight squeeze in his chest eases.

Then the vulture stops, mid-flight and looks down below, as if he changed his mind, before he descends again. 

Shit! Shit! SHIT!

He dives into one of the windows between the 40th and 50th floor. The sound of broken glass and shrill screams can be heard even from where Miguel is. 

Blood freezes in his veins and nausea overtakes him. Calm down. Breathe.. Maybe you’re not in. After all, Lyla’s security protocols would’ve been activated by now if you were. He would’ve been alerted. 

Soaring through the skies, Miguel reaches over to his wrist to punch in the dial for Lyla to check in and reassure himself you're safe. But his tracker blinks back in an alarming red, and he darts down his head towards the display.  

Error. 

His heart stops. 

The flying silhouette reappears through the shattered windows and the metallic harness strapped onto the vulture gleams bright against the sun.

It’s only then it hits him. Lyla's been deactivated by the madman's stupid Electro-Magnetic Harness. 

Why hadn't he foreseen that as a technical flaw?

Against the reflective glass panes, Miguel sees you, caught in the Vulture talons like a mouse captured by a large predatory bird. Every hair on his neck stands on end. His vision bleeds into red, blood roaring at the sight of it.

Kill him.

Miguel's gonna murder that freak for touching you. Crush his windpipe so he can't ever squawk again, then rip his throat out with his claws and feed it to the street pigeons for good measure.

Launching himself through the air, Miguel tears up the side of the building. The tempered glass beneath his claws and feet, shatters into sharp jagged pieces as he closes the distance. 

He is almost within reach. Only some 30 feet that still separates you from him. Leaping the final distance he slams hard into the side of the Vulture until metal crunches beneath his feet. 

Miguel roars until his throat burns with it. Palms gripping at the man’s jaw and prying it back to get at his bare throat. His fangs are ready to sink into the jugular. He can see the dark pupil of Vulture's eyes dilate with fear. 

Good. Miguel's anger will be the last thing this freak sees.

"Miguel calm down," Strange shouts at him from behind. "You're gonna knock her off."

Miguel freezes at the warning, forcing himself to hold still as he looks down to where you are dangling precariously from the Vulture's claws.

"Be ready," Strange shouts, and Miguel looks to him, not understanding what the hell he means. 

Strange rests his hand over the shiny blue gem hanging around a chain from his neck.

What does he mean by be ready? What is Strange going to do?

"What'd you mea–"

Miguel doesn't have a chance to finish the rest of his sentence. An unnatural force vibrates through him. A pulsating wave that pervades his senses, punching through his lungs and knocks him back. 

In an instance, you're propelled away from Strange and the Vulture, and you are freefalling towards the ground below.

Miguel leaps mid-air, arms outstretched to catch you as you plummet towards the ground below. His fingers clasps around your wrists, your warm skin against his fingertips.

He's got you!

Taking hold of you by the arm, Miguel pulls you into his chest as he wraps one arm securely around your waist.

Immediate relief fills him from the inside out as the adrenaline and the searing anger is already starting to fade now that he knows you're safe.

"You okay, nena?" he asks.

You nod, arms finding purchase around the back of his neck, and squeeze down tight. He swings you both to the safety of a nearby rooftop.

There's barely time for him to touch the surface, he hears the nearby explosion and sees Vulture crash into the concrete wall of the nearest building. 

Strange is levitating nearby, hands making wild gestures, presumably to perform some hocus pocus ritual. There’s a magical glow as strobes of light manifest out of thin air surrounding the Vulture from all sides and wrapping around him in a restraining bind.

Miguel sets you down. You're a little bit wobbly on your feet, and seeing you stumble the way you do has that protective streak spark anew in his chest.

Stupid Strange. He can't just do shit like that. 

What if Miguel hadn't reacted in time? What if you had fallen? 

This is why Miguel hates working with the guy, even if they’re friends. Always on his moral high horse about Miguel being reckless, then he pulls shit like this.

"Everyone alright?" Strange asks as he levitates through the sky to set feet close to you both on the rooftop.

Miguel grits his teeth with annoyance at the man’s casual demeanor when he nearly threw you out of the sky.

"Shock you, Strange," he spits out.

"Miggy..." you sigh in a reprimanding tone next to him. 

Stephen shakes his head at him. "I told you. It's fuck"

"Fuck you, Strange."

Sanctum Sanctorum is closer than home and Strange has, comfortable sofas in his ridiculously big mansion. Big enough sofas that Miguel can actually lounge in them comfortably without it feeling cramped. It's why, given the choice, he always prefer to regroup there, over your tiny apartment.

Besides, while the man's control over his magical powers can be suspect at times, he used to be a doctor. Supposedly one of the leading brain surgeons in the world, and Miguel is a lot more comfortable at the prospect of Strange giving you a checkover to make sure you don't need further medical attention than trying your luck at one of the local ERs.

"Follow my finger," Strange says as he shines a little flashlight into your eyes and moves his index from side to side. 

Your eyes follow him dutifully, and Strange proceeds with the rest of his medical check, asking you the boring standard questions. "Any symptoms of dizziness, lightheadedness, or a sense of vertigo?"

He fires them out in rapid succession, and a bit too perfunctory for Miguel's liking.

"Noticed any changes in your vision, blurriness or double vision, etcetera etcetera?"

Miguel's jaw tic in irritation at how Strange is putting in minimal effort and just going through the motions.

"Yeah, you're fine." Strange pats your knees, then whisks the flashlight away into nothingness with his cape.

That medical check wasn't anything close to thorough. Miguel crosses his arms over his chest. "Are you sure? Her feet were wobbly before, I wanted to make sure she didn't sprain her ankle."

"A little bit overprotective as always aren't we?" Strange says.

Miguel shoots the man a glare and Stephen sighs, "Her reflexes are fine, I don't think anything's sprained."

"Check again, you seemed sloppy," Miguel accuses.

"You know, I'm doing this as a favor because you’re a friend. Do you have any idea how much a medical examination by one of the leading neurological surgeons in the world would cost you normally?"

"I'll have Lyla transfer the money."

“No, it’s not actually about money just–" Stephen shakes his head, then sighs. "Nevermind.”

He gestures for you to drape your leg across his lap, then he reaches over to gently assess your ankle as requested.

"What is this necklace?" You ask. You lean closer to Strange, inspecting the blue gem where it rests against his chest.

Strange swats at your hand, the way an adult scolds a child with sticky chocolate smeared hands trying to touch the fine china.

"It's a protection amulet. When activated it forms a protective barrier that forcibly repels everything within ten feet of you."

"Huh," you reach back for the amulet undaunted by the earlier reprimand, fascinated and clearly enamored by it. "I'll give you fifty bucks for it."

Strange looks offended. "It's not for sale, and if it was it would certainly be worth a lot more than fifty dollars. It's a genuine magical artifact, not fake costume jewelry from the theater department."

You purse your lips, considering the amulet.

"Forty," you offer.

Miguel has to choke back a snorting laughter in his throat at the way Stephen's eyes goes wide in confused outrage.

"Wait, why is the price going down?"

“We’re in the middle of an economic crisis, Stephen,” you counter.  

Strange's head darts over to where Miguel sits, presumably for backup, but he's knocked on the wrong door. The man must be mad if he thinks that there is ever a world where Miguel would side against you.

"Strange, we both know it’s easier if you just give her the amulet." Miguel says. 

The man sighs, shaking his head in defeat.

"Be careful with it," he says as he drags the chain over his head to place it in your awaiting palms. "And don't lose it like the invisibility amulet with Mysterio. Had to spend a whole month clearing up your mess when that creep used it to get into the women's locker rooms at every local gym in Greenwich!"

"That wasn’t my mess! Miggy lost that one during an aerial fight. You can't blame that on me."

"You married him, so you're responsible for him. I consider you two jointly to blame."

"Now you're just lashing out," you shoot back.

Miguel watches the two of you in patient boredom, his head propped up by an elbow on the arm of the sofa. He expended way too much energy during the fight, and now he needs to refuel. 

If Miguel leaves you two to it, you'll spend an eternity bantering, the way you do. His stomach growls. He wants food. Wants wantons and beef ho fun and a dozen custard salted egg buns for dessert. And the longer you two are at it, the longer it's going to take for him to get it.

"Nena," he calls out, "I'm hungry. Are you two done? I want to go for dinner."

You shoot Miguel a quick smile, pulling out your wallet and take out a wad of green bills then fold it into Strange's hand with a happy grin.

Strange looks down at the crumpled up money in his hand. "Wait, you're only giving me thirty? I thought we said forty."

"You still owe me like ten bucks from mini golf last week."

Strange pockets the money with a grumble. "Unbelievable." 

“C’mon,” Miguel says as he stands up and gestures to the both of you with a curt nod of his head towards the door. “Let’s go. I’ll pay for dinner this time,” Miguel says, and that seems to abate Strange’s outrage somewhat as the man grabs your coat from the sofa cushions and offers it to you.

Life on Earth 383-D is strange.

Life here is borderline primitive. The technology is something out of the stone ages.

Social media is a wasteland. Reality TV is a dystopian concept. And he doesn't understand who Kardashian is or why everyone is obsessed with her and her family. 

He does like fax machines though. They are basically teleportation machines and it boggles him that the people of your dimension do not seem to understand its potential.

The one thing he will give this version of earth credit for is that the food here is nice. Everyone in his home dimension is too health conscious, and fried food has long been banned by the government for the long term damage it does to the cardiovascular system. 

He also likes the life that the two of you have built together here. You have a home in that tiny shoebox apartment. You have friends. Strange friends. Like the Doctor who flies around with the help of a magic cape and now practices the mystic arts after a gap year in Asia. A young girl whose main superpower is the ability to communicate with squirrels. Then there’s that ugly red-masked wise-cracking, katana-wielding maniac who never dies.

Sadly, your friends are not the only thing that is strange about your surroundings.

Miguel perches himself on top of the Chrysler building sitting hunched over on the ledge of the roof. He’s drained and bone-tired, chasing down a helicopter that had gone haywire and was hurtling towards your office building. 

Luckily Strange was able to assist and sent it through a magic portal to crash into the Atlantic without putting any lives at stake. 

"Just had to do some cleaning up," Strange says as he sets his boots back down on the ground. 

Miguel doesn't answer him, staring out at the city view and the setting sun as he takes a well earned breather for a moment or two. New York is a bit of a shit hole, but it does look pretty from a high viewpoint, especially when the sun is setting, Miguel has to give this city that.

It's silent between the two of them. Or at least it is until Strange decides to break it with a harkle of his throat. When Miguel doesn't react the man does it again, coughing discreetly in a clear attempt to get his attention.

Miguel doesn't say anything about the man's sore throat. He ran out of the lemon drops you bought him as snacks hours ago, but he does tilt his head up at the man.

"She's been getting into a lot of these incidents lately. More than usual, more than any normal human for it to be a coincidence" Strange says.

The whole of Miguel's back stiffens.

"Have you noticed the abnormal uptick in strange unexplainable supernatural occurrences lately? Indoor tornadoes. The rain of poisonous frogs outside of whole foods. A sinkhole appearing right next to the cafe your wife frequents."

Miguel doesn't love the insinuations. Even with his lips pressed tightly together, Miguel can feel the small muscle in his jaw flex like a nervous tic at the mention of it. Because yeah, he's noticed, kind of hard to miss when your wife's life is in constant peril at all hours of the day.

Ice storms in July that hit right outside your workplace. An inexplicable solar flare causing a blackout that had every single vehicle within a 5 miles radius go haywire in the dark near your apartment. A swarm of mutated mosquitoes with a venomous bite that chased you down Central Park. 

The incidents are occurring more frequently. They are also getting increasingly bizarre and dangerous.

No one can say it’s just bad luck when the daily occurrences around you are defying the very laws of nature itself. Something isn't right with the universe, and he's not sure what else there is to do except pretend that everything is still ok.

"What are you implying?" Miguel asks through gritted teeth. 

But for the first time in the years that Miguel has known him, Strange's talkativeness is nowhere to be found. He doesn't answer Miguel. He's smart that way, the clever bastard. Knows that if he says one wrong word, Miguel is going to unhinge his jaws like a feral alligator and snap at him. 

Strange has said what he needed for Miguel to know exactly what he's getting at. The man just meets his eyes with an intentional stare, not shying away from Miguel's glare.

It's not like the thought hasn't crossed Miguel's mind. Not like it hasn't been keeping him up at night, every night.

Even though you've always been accident prone and suffered from bad luck, at this point it's a mathematical impossibility that anyone would run into as many near death incidents as you have.

This isn't by chance. It's by design. Miguel's suspected as much for a while now. He just doesn't know whose design and why.

"It's not her fault," Miguel spits out.

"I never said it was."

"Even if what you are saying is true..." Miguel stops, and stares down at his fisted palms with a sinking feeling in his guts. "There's nothing she can do about it to stop it. You can't put that on her."

"Whether she knows about it or not, if it's true, none of this is going to go away.

Strange walks over to where Miguel is, sitting down next to him.

"It’s been escalating in severity," he continues. "There are strange universal energies attached to her. There’s warping of the universal order and space around her. We don't know how bad this can get, if we don’t do anything about this, it could unravel the fabric of reality itself."

Despite the calamity of what Strange is implying, his voice is even and calm as he says it as if he might as well be discussing the weather. That trait has always annoyed the shit out of Miguel.

"What are you planning to do if this continues?" Strange asks.

It's such a silly question. Strange says it as if this is a multiple choice question. But for Miguel there's only one correct answer. 

"Protect her. I have to. She's everything to me."

Miguel is staring into the sunset bu all he sees before him is your face even though you aren’t here. The happy smile that he wants to preserve forever. He tries to fight the ache that's building in him at the thought that it would go away.

"Strange, don't tell her. Please. She doesn't need that burden."

He fists his palms into his side.

Miguel never liked asking for help, but even he knows that if what Strange is saying is true. That if the universe for some unfathomable reason wants you dead, then he's going to need all the help he can get.

If Strange has figured it out. Then it's only a matter of time before others do as well.

Soon enough, you won't just have the universe coming after you but every superhero and villain combined in a united front to take out the common threat that you pose to this entire universe.

Even Miguel knows he can't do this alone and as much as that helplessness tastes like failure and bile in his throat, he can swallow his pride if it helps keep you safe.

"Stephen, you have to help me save her."

From behind, Strange rests one hand on the corner of his shoulder. The weight of it feels like a promise being made. For the first time in a long time, Miguel feels like he can breathe just a little bit easier.

"I will do what I can, my friend."

Weeks go by. There are more incidents. Runaway vehicles that go haywire. Electrical storm fires. Rain of poisonous locusts. 

Somehow he manages to protect you from it all. 

It just means that he has to be more vigilant, that's all. The universe doesn't rest and neither does Miguel now. Lyla has been set on constant alert to wake him up whenever he's napping at any small signs of abnormal occurrences happening near you, with an electric shock to make sure he wakes. Something the A.I. is taking a worryingly amount of glee in (which probably means he needs to retune her programming when he has time).

And today, today Miguel was meant to have a Sunday lie in. Universe be willing, his goal was to sleep all the way into the late afternoon and then you had promised to take him to IHOP and get him all the pancakes he could eat for late breakfast.

But right now he's not asleep. He's trying to. But there are hushed words and whispered murmurs, buzzing in his ear that keeps trying to drag him away from sleep.

It's you and Strange.

Judging from the distance of the noises, you're both standing outside in the hall. The fact that you two are trying to be quiet makes it worse. If you'd spoken in normal volume he could tune it out as white noise, but the conspiratorial quietness of it all makes the hair on the back of his neck tingle with alertness.

Fuck's sake. He swears to god if you two are gossiping and making fun of Hercules’ costume (or the lack of it) again.

It's too early for this crap. Don't you two know that people are trying to sleep? He was up all night chasing crazy Kraven worshippers releasing animals from the Brooklyn zoo. Miguel had to gather wild zebras and crocodiles all the way down East Village til 4am.

With a groan, he drags himself halfway up along the mattress, about to go and growl at you both to be quiet, when the cluttered noises register as words and the fuzziness of sleep clears momentarily.

"He'd destroy this world for you."

Huh? What are you two talking about?

Miguel's too groggy to make sense of the context of what's being said. Even with his super hearing he has to focus to make out the words.

"You can't let him."

Irritated, he gets out of bed and walks to the front door to swing it open. The first thing he sees is you standing with Strange in the hallway. You jump at the suddenness and look up at him with wide eyes.

You have the worst poker face of anyone he's ever seen in his life.

"What are you two jabbering on about this damn early?" he asks.

He'd expected the two of you to act coy, maybe a clever 'wouldn't you like to know' retort back from the Mystic. Instead, Strange's face is entirely inscrutable, tone serious as he responds.

"We were just catching up. Nothing important. I need to head back," Strange says, then he turns to you with a meaningful tilt to his head. "Think about what I said."

"What was that about?" Miguel asks you as he watches Strange step through a portal and disappear.

You don't say anything. There's a worried frown etched between your eyebrows as you bite down on your lip.

Something crawls under Miguel's skin at the whole interaction.

You're oddly quiet the whole afternoon. Deep in thought and walking around as if in a daze, which unsettles him.

It's not difficult for him to guess what's wrong. He might have been half asleep when you and Strange were whispering in the corridors, but Miguel can put one and one together. Having two PHDs and a lifetime's experience of working in theoretical physics gives you that leg up.

In a last ditch effort to get you out of the uncharacteristic blues, he orders a dozen of your favorite cupcakes from that tiny shop in New Jersey. It costs an arm and a leg to have it couriered, but it'll be worth it if it makes you smile. 

Then he sits down next to you on the bed and places the pink pastry box down on the mattress. It's your favorite place to eat cakes and it’s why you two always end up with crumbs and frosting all over the sheets.

You happily cram half a cupcake into your mouth in one bite as you eat, and he watches you contently. If there was any fairness in the world, this quiet idyllic moment could last forever. In a good world, Miguel wouldn’t have to burst this perfect bubble. 

Sadly, this world is neither fair nor good sometimes. 

"Strange said something to you right?" Miguel asks. 

You still next to him, clearly torn between whether or not to share what was said to you, probably in secret with the very intention of being kept away from him. 

“Nena,” Miguel tries again, and you close your eyes taking a deep breath, caving into his prodding. 

"Strange thinks that my incidents might be correlated with the strange natural occurrences lately."

That fucking asshole. He knew it. Irritation pings across his jaw, and Miguel bites it down. He tries to reel it, forcing back the rant that wants to surface. Instead he tries to focus on you instead of his own anger. 

"We don't know that. It could just be a series of coincidences," Miguel tells you. 

You nod, but Miguel's not an idiot and neither are you. He can see the worry creasing your eyes as you look down to your lap. 

Putting down the cupcake, he reaches over and links his right hand with yours. 

"Nena, don't worry.” He cups his free hand over your cheek to drag you up to meet his eyes.

“I'll fight the whole universe to keep you safe if I have to. Nothing's ever going to harm you so long as I'm here. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. You're the most important thing to me."

You smile at him at the words, but there's a wistfulness to it that embeds a dull ache in his chest that he wants to physically rub away to make it stop.

You lean into his touch, until your forehead presses up against his and the physical touch blunts the ache in him for a moment, putting it on pause. 

"You’re the most important to me too," you say.

The sky itself cracks open not long after. 

It doesn’t take the combined forces and intellect of the entire world too long to hone in on you being the root cause. Soon enough every superhero, mutant, villain and alien starts coming after you. Because hero or villain alike, no one truly wants their world to end, not if it’s not on their terms. 

Mysterio tries to kidnap you by the elevator in your apartment building. The Human Torch even tries to burn the whole building down. The Punisher tries to murder you point blank outside your office.

Miguel can’t remember the last time he slept. He’s running on fumes. Day after day, he feels like he’s getting by on borrowed time. 

The friends and allies you have thin out fast as the threats to the world increase in severity. Miguel never imagined having Deadpool standing outside his door stating that the life of one single person cannot outweigh the universe itself. 

It’s all so stupid. None of them know what they’re talking about. A lynching mob with their torches and pitchforks. Never stopping to think whether harming you could trigger something much worse.

If Strange is right and you are the knot at the center of the fabric of reality that is coming apart, then ripping that out leaves a hole. Miguel gave up on explaining that fairly quickly because he realized that theoretical consequences doesn’t matter to an angry mob scared of facing the reality of extinction. 

It all becomes a blur. 

Exhaustion eats into his bones, until he can no longer tell the days apart. No matter how many times he saves you, disaster is always waiting just around the corner. 

And now he’s chasing down the Green Goblin to the top of the Chrysler building from the 61st floor, where the green freak has cornered you to the edge of the rooftop.

Miguel is already out of breath, running away from the coalition of superheroes and villains that are hot on his heels, trying to stop him from saving you. 

Adrenaline beats fast in his veins as he keeps running. Miguel is only able to make out those in pursuit in brief glimpses. The bright blue spandex suit of Reed Richards as his freakishly long elastic limbs stretch towards him. The blocks of metal hurtling towards Miguel, missing by inches and crashes into the side of a building as Magneto’s form hovers nearby. 

He ignores them all, not sparing a glance behind him. He just has to keep moving. It doesn't matter that his muscles scream and burn in exhaustion. Doesn't matter that his head dulls with a heavy ache from lack of sleep. He has to keep going for you. Has to save you.

He's so close, he's almost there.

From the corner of his eyes, he makes out the familiar garish red flowing cape fluttering against the blue sky.

Strange.

Miguel marginally relaxes, at the sight of the sole ally he has left in this universe. He leaps across the rooftop, into the temporary safety of the observatory deck.

His feet doesn't even reach the ground. Something restrains him from behind. Bright lights materialize out of thin air. It wraps around Miguel's limb with the strength of unbreakable manacles, hugging him so tight it restricts the flow of blood to his fingers. Then he’s brought down to his knees. 

Miguel whips his head back and Strange stands there, hands formed in a holding gesture.

“What are you–”

"I'm sorry," Strange says.

Miguel snarls at his restraints, wrenching and twisting in every direction he is able to even with the limited range of motion, but it's to no avail. The harder he struggles the more forceful the restraints seem to close in on him, mirroring his strength.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this. I really hoped there was another way but every life in the whole of the universe is at stake, Miguel."

Hot burning anger spears through him, and if he could he would raze it all to the ground with it. This place, this world and this fucking traitor standing there can all fucking burn. Miguel is gonna kill him. He's gonna kill this fucking bastard. He can't believe he trusted him.

“Strange, fucking let me… Stephen!”

He hears your pained shout and snaps his head towards the sound.

Miguel is only ten feet away from you. Ten measly feet from where the Green Goblin is holding you by the ledge of the rooftop. He can still reach you, if he can get free he can still save you. 

Tearing through the magical binds, there’s a bone-cracking sound in his shoulder. Searing pain spreads through his arm. For all his struggles, he doesn't know if he’s even an inch closer towards you. 

He watches you drop from the ledge. 

It's a pin drop moment where everything stops. His heart is no longer beating. 

No. This can't be how it ends.

He's moving forward, even as the sharp restraints digs into his limbs and flesh and burrows in with an excruciating ache. But the pain doesn't matter. All that matters is you.

It claws into him, and digs and tears, until he is sure that his entire limbs are going to be torn off, but he doesn't stop, keeps pulling against the resisting strength that surrounds him, rips against the hindrance embracing every ounce of the pain until finally, the pressure gives.

There's a cacophony of sound that's left behind him as he leaps through the air. He slingshots downwards, cutting through air as he tries to reach you.

Miguel catches your hand and relief fills his chest.

"I got you. I got you," he murmurs. He's not sure if those words are to calm you or himself.

Pulling you up in defiance of the pull of gravity, he tries to haul you up towards him. Your hand squirms in his, and if you keep going you're going to slip out of his grasp.

"Nena, don't move," he shouts in alarm, but you don't stop, twisting in all directions, making it harder for him to get a better grip.

What're you– You're resisting against his strength, why would you...

It hits him with a sickening realization.

You don' want him to save you.

"Stop!" he shouts. “Stop!”

You shake your head, tears filling the corner of your eyes that flow upwards and everything is upside down to him. 

"We’re out of time. You have to let me go,” you say. 

His fingers squeeze down even harder at your words, refusing to hear it. 

“There's still time. There are still other options. I can still save you!” 

Your hand reaches for the amulet pressed against your collarbone. Dread floods every nerve in his body as he sees your fingers squeeze around it.

"No!" He shouts. Screams it so loud it burns in his lungs. But deep down he knows it's not going to make any difference. "Nena, don't!"

The wind whips too loudly against his face. The sound of your heart pounding so painfully hard in his ear that it's deafening and he knows that sound will haunt him forever. 

You're scared.

He sees your lips move, but he can't hear what you're saying.

But he's heard these words so many times before from your lips that he knows them by heart. 

''I love you.''

An invisible force blasts away at him, it shatters through him through his limbs and torso into the very soft tissue of his stomach and makes his teeth shake. He's propelled upwards, unable to control his movements or defy the gravity that he's learned to navigate after all these years mid-air.

He holds on as hard as he can to your hand, but it doesn't matter. His fingers slip, his grip is lost.

You're falling through the sky.

Miguel doesn't remember much after that.

Somehow he makes it back onto the ground.

Somehow he finds you amongst the cracked dirty concrete. 

Somehow, despite falling from over a 100 feet your body is still intact where it lies lifeless on the ground.

Your bones are broken though. Body limp and soft in his arms in a way that has never felt more wrong to him. His only consolation is that you're still warm in his arms, and he thinks that maybe if he just doesn't let go, if he holds you tightly pressed to him the way he is doing now, it'll remain that way forever.

The sky has cleared above. There are no cracks in the azure blue canvas.

This world is saved. 

His world has ended. 

Dedication & Credits: To @thirstworldproblemss who has been with me on this journey since chapter one without her enthusiasm and her companionship and friendship and listening to my wild ramblings about this story, I would never have set out to write this thing. She gave me so much joy in the process, she also gave me her time and her skills and brainy talent to help me process and brainstorm this into a shape that I was excited to share with you all! You also have her to thank for that devastating last line.

@guruan who has been a constant well of inspiration with her amazing art, her bright sense of humor and her sharing of theories of what's going to happen! You've made writing this story so much fun!

Author's note: Here we go guys, we've officially entered the final arc now. With only three chapters to go! I am so excited to share the remaining puzzle pieces with you all!

[myimaginesandrp]

Another day, another slay.

The slay in question is my heart that very much like Nena is broken pieces on the ground. Sorry too soon I know. But you did this 😡 literally I LIVE for angst and this just was so good babes. Then he catches her and you gave me hope?! How dare you T^T I went feral. This whole universe and the fucking Deadpool reference 🤣 It was so chefs kiss. You’ll be hearing from my litigation team and my Therapist tyvm 😘

[hughjidiot]

Something I found on Twitter that really puts things in perspective as a creator.