#aaravos x reader
Secretly dating Aaravos
Handsome, sparkly, morally ambiguous elf man + dating in secret = life fulfilled
Warnings: none!
-Aaravos-
- He knows that having an intimate connection with him puts you in a grave amount of danger, especially with things as chaotic as they are right now. He can’t constantly be watching over you, so distancing the two of you is the next best thing
- So though he hates having to hide it, he does, because Aaravos cannot risk losing you
- “It’ll only be for a while, jewel. Then I can show you off for all to see.”
- Aaravos cast a number of protective enchantments on you — faint enough to leave no connection to him, yet strong enough to protect you when he isn’t around
- He sends you little gifts in secret — snacks, books, notes, or bracelets that won’t attract too much attention from others (though he wishes he could shower you with the fortunes of every treasury in the land)
- Your secret meet ups are carefully devised by Aaravos so that no one suspects a thing. It usually involves meeting in forgotten corridors of old buildings, in the middle of dark forests, or diving into whatever shadowy alleyway you two can find
- You’ll stand there in perfect silence and eventually hear the rich, dark voice behind you say, “There you are, starlight. Looking as divine as always.”
- In those stolen moments together, you talk about everything that’s going on or just sit there enjoying one another’s company without watching eyes
- You’ve fallen asleep a few times, and always wake up safely tucked into your bed
- He always makes a point to ask how everyone is treating you and if you feel safe, just to make sure all is well
- There have been a few close calls, of course. A nosy servant burst down a hall once, and Aaravos had to tuck you behind some curtains. Another time, a patrol came far closer than he had expected, and he had to hold you close and cloak the both of you in shadows
- Even when you aren’t together, you’re half certain that the shadows watch and smile over you wherever you go
- And anyone who dares try to be nosy or use information about your relationship against you… let’s just say that they are about to have some absolutely terrible luck
Summary: His lips touched the butterfly, a gift to you.
a/n: okay, so this hits a couple requests i got. one from the prompt challenge #169: What a pretty sight. and another one asking for stuff w/ fondness towards aaravos’ little speaker.
As they perched atop of his fingers, he was reminded of just delicate life could be. Once, not long ago, they had been shielded inside cocoons, and now their glittering wings trembled as though in dance, a tiny starlit night all their own. Their soft flutters across his skin were fragile, gone in an instant if it were something he was compelled to do.
Instead of that, however, he only watched as the pair of butterflies with their dazzling wings and black bodies flapped erratically to the inverted dome of the tall ceiling and clung to the marble. His eyes followed them, and as the fireplace dimmed and the warmth of it coiled through his fingers, he thought they were a night sky he remembered, though it was still so very far away.
Summary: You thought it a courtesy to look after your superior’s dignity whenever he dosed off, however, you were not expecting another visitor in one particular instance.
a/n: spoilers for season 2. just, like, everything is. sorry.
It would always remain a touch amusing when you would catch Viren amid a nap, often times jaw ajar whilst the delicate candlelight caught the glisten of a sliver of drool from the corner of his mouth. The man didn’t want to recognize he was getting on in age, much less admit to your smug face that he had dozed off.
Of course, such occurrences in the past had been warm moments; those types that made the burdens melt from your shoulders, and, just for a second, reminded you that life was more than its hardships. And yet now, in the years following the untimely departures of Sarai and Harrow, you found yourself at peace when he was asleep.
Summary: You could find the constellations on his back.
Those balmy summer evenings felt like a haze to him; delicate and fleeting. It was price of his being, of time being little more a single fray in a thread. He could anticipate that he would remain while the corpses of man and beast would rot beneath the soil, and the monuments of civilization were reclaimed by vines and saplings.
It haunted him some nights, those few instances he would forget after a blink. Most days passed in a blur, even less he would bother to commit to memory.
And yet, he wished the day would never come where he would have to recall your touch. Your fingertips ghosted along his back, moving with purpose to one point, hesitating, then moving to yet another.
