#Spymaster

[how-masterful]

NEW PICTURE TO CELEBRATE CALL ME MASTER COMING OUT ON THURSDAY SPYMASTER NATION HOW ARE WE FEELING

[rawranicus]

my beautiful princess with a disorder ❤️

[codegreen14]

The intro to Self Help is so 2010s coming-of-age coded

[thetorturedlovergirl]

[manicmanuscription]

These Hands

SJM x Reader Week Day Four @sjmxreaderweek

Prompt: Villian / Hero

Pairing: Azriel / Reader

Summary: Azriel comes home and is withdrawn he knows what he is, what he’s done and only his lovely mate can help him escape his own mind

Tags: mentions of murder, blood, torture is implied, Azriel is depressed angst and fluff, bathing together ptsd symptoms. gets lowkey spicey at the end. Minors DNI

Word Count: 1063

SJM x Reader Week | Acotar Masterlist

I knew something was wrong with my mate long before he came home. He shut his side of the bond when he was working but small glimpses of…pain, regret flickered through. 

Azriel didn’t even come say hello to me, instead he quietly resigned himself to the bathroom. I heard the bath running through the old plumbing in the walls and I made my way upstairs after a few moments setting the book down carelessly on the coffee table. 

We’d been mated centuries and I’d gotten particularly good at recognizing the elusive shadowsinger’s hard to read moods. If he or anybody else was injured the bond would be wide open, trying to comfort me and sending as much reassurance as he could. 

But now he was distant, drawing himself further within dark places he did not want me to go. I knocked once on the door before sliding in without a response. There was my gorgeous mate standing next to the close to overflowing bath, staring at his scarred hands with empty eyes. 

I knew immediately what was wrong. I switched off the nozzle for the tub and made my way in front of him, my form not doing much to block the large mirror behind me. 

“Azriel?” I asked keeping my voice low so as to not startle him, I hadn’t seen him like this in ages and worry ate at my gut. I pressed a gentle touch to his hand, testing the waters and he flinched. 

So it was just as bad as I thought. 

I worked on removing his working clothes and various weapons gently caressing my fingers over his body so he didn’t feel suffocated. He obviously washed off before arriving and the clothes were old, small stains of blood smeared on his skin.  “Did you know the neighbor’s cat has been hanging around here? It happened the last few weeks you were gone. I think he likes Kia. They’ve been playing underneath the porch.”

I left him in just his sweatpants not so subtly searching his bare torso for wounds in case he was too far gone to realize he’d been hurt and after realizing he was ok I reached for the pearlescent comb set in the cabinets, grabbing a small stool to make it easier to brush away all the knots in his hair. “You need a haircut.” I murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek before continuing. “Anyways I really hope he doesn’t get her pregnant. Although kitten’s running around her would be so cute, I don't know anything about them. Nyx would absolutely adore them though.”

I stepped down from the stool and tested the bath waters to make sure it was hot enough, adding a few good smelling oils and lighting the new candles. “Speaking of Nyx, he's only gotten more rambunctious lately. Mother help us when he actually starts flying. I swear he’ll crack his head. He obviously gets it from Rhys.” I helped him take off his sweatpants and softly guided him to the bath, stripping my own clothes and joining him. 

I washed his hair, then his wings then did my best to wash his body. All the while talking about everything and nothing just so I could bring my mate back to me, hoping he would start listening to my voice instead of the awful voice in his head. The bond slowly starting opening from his end and I knew it was working.

When I turned around and reaching for the comb on the nearby counter just for good measure his smooth voice shakes slightly. “Why are you doing this?” He whispered staring at his hands again. 

I faced him once again, comb forgotten. “What do you mean my love?” I asked scooting closer to him. He kept staring at his scarred hands and I grabbed them in my hands. Knowing what he meant but wanting to hear him say it. He flinched at my touch and tried pulling away but I held tighter.

Sometimes people needed space and sometimes they needed to be pushed, Azriel was the type to go far into his inner demons; it took a little extra shoving to push them away. His voice cracked as he said my name as I swirled soothing patterns over the scars. “These hands….these hand’s shouldn’t-” His voice broke again and his usually stoic face grimaced in pain. 

“I do not deserve your reverence. Or your love. I’m a monster, these- these hands have done things your mind would shatter underneath the weight of. They have hurt so many people-” 

“Oh Azriel…” I whispered, my heart breaking at his words. I brought our joined hands to my lips and peppered kisses over each scar. “You are not monstrous, you are not a vile demon.”

He protested with my name  but I cut him off. “No, let me finish. These hands protect this court, these hands protect our family. They hurt villains and monsters. These hands aren’t just capable of destruction. They are capable of nurturing. They make me breakfast every morning and cradle Nyx.”

I moved on from kissing his scars to kissing his palms, his fingertips. The bond softening at each touch. “These hands move the pages on my favorite books as you read to me. These hands braid my hair, these hands make me feel loved, safe and cared for.”

I slowly dragged his hands over my body. “These hands bring me so much pleasure.”  the touch grounding him and a flash of desire passed over his once haunted eyes as I positioned his palm to cup my sensitive parts underneath the water. But I brought them back up to my waist, knowing that’s not what he needed right now. I made sure his eyes were back on mine before speaking again

“These hands cherish me, our family, they make me fires when I'm cold and hold me when I'm scared. I love you Azriel. You won’t break me, or hurt me. I love you baby and you deserve it.” I meant every word and he tugged me close to his chest before I could see the silver lining his eyes, positioning me so I sat in his lip, my head tucking into his neck and he rubbed soothing motions up and down my arm. I breathed in his familiar scent letting it ground me and the bond was wide open now. 

“I love you so much.” He murmured reverently, pressing a slow kiss to my lips. 

“I love you too.”

[clowns0cks]

he's got that sadness about him you only see in catholic stained glass windows

[thelov3lybookworm]

Creep

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You'd think the Spymaster lost his child with the way his room looks. Turns out it was just the ridiculous dagger Y/n came to return.

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Word Count: 2025 (i am actually cackling rn)

Warnings: kinda fluffy, the tiniest sprinkle of angst if you squint, maybe a lore drop soon omg??? but otherwise nothing serious <3

A/n: the third part in my maid!reader oneshot list YAYYY 🥳🥳🥳 i actually love this part so much omg, like the amount of details i put?? WHO IS SHE I LIKE HERRR🥹 i literally am in love omg and i hope yall like it too🥹

also yn is so funny lmaoo i love her 🥹😭

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

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Moonlight spilled in through the open spaces between the pillars like liquid silver, the sight ethereal as Y/n quietly made her way through the hallways, down, down into the servants quarters.

The hallways were deserted, not a single soul in sight, and involuntarily, she began humming. The sound echoed back to Y/n, lighter and lighter, merging in the cacophony of a haunting song that would have, any other day, creeped Y/n out. Chilled fingers raked their fingers down her spine, and she quickened her steps, wondering if someone was watching.

Wouldn’t be the first time, as some people did have an affinity for watching unassuming females.

Even as she finally turned into the hallway on the end of which was the stairway leading down towards her quarters, she considered sprinting, in case there was a spirit about to nab her. But before she could make good on that thought, a fae emerged from the stairway, and Y/n’s voice died down, the only sound now the echoes of the song.

Just as the last note reverberated against her skin, Olga paused in front of Y/n, offering her a stern look. Under the moonlight, her skin, as dark as night, shimmered like a million diamonds were embedded in her pores.

"This morning, when you went to clean the spymaster’s room. Did you take anything?"

Y/n’s brows furrowed. No greetings? "No, not as far as I remember."

"Remember now?" The head maid scoffed, shifting to reveal her hands from in between her robes. In them, she held a knife. It was bejewelled, a little too much to be a knife used for eating, in Y/n’s humble opinion.

Yet, she did recall seeing the knife, and putting it in the basket holding the dirty dishes.

"Oh… is that-"

"The spymaster’s personal dagger, yes."

Y/n peered up at Olga, drawing her lip between her teeth. Already, a flush of embarrassment was climbing up her neck, and the lump beginning to form in her throat under the glare that could bruise even a forest’s ego did nothing to help.

"Forgive me, I assumed it was a knife."

Olga’s white brows wrinkled. She had always been one of the more beautiful fae Y/n had ever encountered, albeit very short tempered. That didn’t stop Y/n from complimenting the older female every chance she got.

"How do you confuse a dagger with a knife? And even if you did, what fool would use this-" she lifted the dagger higher between the two, "-this thing to cut their steak?"

Y/n paused, her eyes wide. "...the fool who would put jewels on a dagger meant for combat?"

And- there. Barely visible, but a faint uptick in the corner of Olga’s mouth.

"You young kids will make me age quicker. Mother help me."

"But you will be a very beautiful old female, no? I’m sure the males would still line up!" Y/n giggled lightly, her eyes fixated on Olga’s face to catch every single change in her expression. The crinkling of the skin around her eyes brought Y/n immense joy. It made her feel like she was in the presence of her mother, making her laugh instead of this complete stranger who’d taken up the role of becoming a maternal figure after…

After.

"Go, give this back to him." Olga mumbled, offering her the hilt.

Y/n pouted, widening her eyes in hopes it would placate the female in front of her. Alas, there was barely anything that would distract Olga from work.

"Y/n, you made a mistake. Fix it." Despite the stern tone of voice, Olga’s grip was gentle as she grabbed Y/n’s hand, placing the dagger in the center of her palm.

"But I’m tired."

But Olga had already turned away, walking back towards the stairway she had come from like she had suddenly lost all hearing.

"At least will you oil my hair?!" Y/n called out, wishing she wouldn’t say no.

Olga paused, but didn’t turn. After a small moment, her shoulders lifted in a delicate shrug, and then she went on, without a word. Y/n huffed, looking down at the dagger that flashed back at her when she turned it just the right amount.

It’s your fault, you fuc- no cursing. Mama doesn’t like cursing.

Y/n sighed, then turned back the way she had come, preparing herself for the trek upstairs, her eyes fixated, once again, on the moonlight. Wading through it like water, Y/n paused just before she could take a step into the stairway.

She glanced out- over the moon drenched mountains, the glittering snow, the sparkling stars against the blanket of night- then around. Not even a dust particle in sight to witness her lone mission of returning the dagger.

It wouldn’t be too bad to let the glamour drop…

After a split moment of hesitation, Y/n turned on her heel, heading towards the marble banister under the open sky -making her way through tiny patches of grass on the smaller sitting area- protecting the fae from dropping into the open maw of the smaller mountains beneath. After another quick look around, she let her wings sprout from her back, catching a drift and letting it carry her.

As she beat the appendages, going higher and higher, feeling the wind tickle the dark, iridescent blue wings, she felt the tension release in her body. It had been so long since she had felt the breeze toying with the curved edges that curled in on themselves at the bottom. So long since she had even let the glamour hiding the wings from sight drop.

The wings unfurled after each stroke, and Y/n herself wanted to turn her head, to watch, enraptured, at the beauty of it all. She had always adored her wings, even on her darkest of days. The feeling of having the wind in your hair, the breeze playing with your clothes, the ability to feel things only a few others could enjoy had always fascinated Y/n, equally so as the whole experience of being airborne.

It gave her a high nothing else did, and so when she felt solid ground under her feet again, it was almost disappointing, considering she hadn’t even realised how quick the flight would be.

It almost made her want to beg the mother to give her a chance to fly for longer, but Y/n had long ago realised to be very, very mindful of what she asked for. She had quite an experience in the consequences of mindless prayers.

Once, she had asked for something. She had gotten it, but at the cost of losing her.

The hallway was deserted, just as it had been hours ago when Y/n had been preparing herself to face some elite fae. It was her luck that it turned out to be Azriel, and despite it being his own doing, Y/n didn’t hold the fact that it made her uncomfortable against him.

Quickly, Y/n walked over to the same door she had stared at before the same morning, and lifted her hand, landing three quick raps against the wood.

At first, the shuffling that seeped through the door stopped completely, the almost frantic shuffle of feet on the other side of the door giving way to silence so thick it was almost suffocating. And then the scuff of boots that got louder as the fae inside approached the door.

Y/n found herself staring into hazel eyes the moment the door cracked open, and she shifted, clearing her throat when he refused to say a word. He blinked, as if waking from a trance, and opened the barrier separating them wider, offering her a smile.

"Good evening."

Y/n glanced down at her hands, trying hard to ignore all the exposed amount of skin and muscle that were right in front of her. Azriel seemed to realise it too, hurriedly wrapping his bare arms across his shirtless torso, swallowing. "Good evening. Forgive me, I didn’t expect to see you here at this time."

She shook her head, meeting his gaze again, feeling blood climb up her neck at having all his attention on her. The previous times the two had been alone, Y/n had something else to focus on, something to latch onto to ignore the almost intimidating but also exhilarating feeling of being in the same space as the spymaster.

Now all that distracted her were her hands that clenched around a ridiculously jewelled dagger.

"It’s okay, I didn’t expect to be here either."

Azriel cocked his head, his eyes surveying her from head to toe and back. "What brings you here, then?"

Y/n’s eyes flicked behind him for a moment, taking in the state of the room. Saying it was messy would be an understatement. The bed was bare, covers thrown haphazardly to the ground, chairs and tables strewn about the room in a formation completely at odds with the way they had been just that morning, so neatly placed, with relatively clinical precision.

Her brows furrowed.

"Is everything okay?"

He glanced behind him, scratching the back of his neck. "I was just searching for something." He turned back around, a sheepish grin on his face. "My dagger. I accidentally left it in here this morning, and when I came back to retrieve it later, it was gone."

Y/n’s cheeks coloured as she pulled her hands in front of her body, splaying them wide to show him the weapon. "Was it this one?"

Surprise flickered in his eyes along with relief as he reached out to grab it from her grip. "Where did you find this?"

Y/n focused on his hands, unwilling to meet his eyes.

His ungloved hands.

The horror, the shock and surprising sorrow that took hold of Y/n like a hungry beast pushed the breath out of her lungs, but Y/n forced herself to recover quickly, instead deciding that looking into his eyes was better than unwittingly asking him questions he might not want to answer.

"I- uh- I unintentionally took it with me when I came in to clean this morning, thinking it was cutlery."

Bewilderment took over his expression, yet he said nothing that would have embarrassed her further. "Thank you for bringing it back. It is very precious to me."

Y/n nodded, her fingers twisting around themselves as silence settled once more. There wasn’t anything she wanted to say. And he seemed too busy fawning over his dagger to break the silence.

And anyways, she just wanted to leave and go back to sleep.

"Well, good night. I’ll get going."

She had only taken a few steps down the hallway when- "Are you going to come back?" he blurted out, making her freeze in her tracks.

"I’m not sure… Why do you ask?"

"So I can talk to the head maid, of course."

Her brows furrowed. She turned to look at him, on the other side of the threshold. "And what would be the purpose of it?"

He sighed, looking down at his boots. "Look, I… I think you’re very nice, and I would love to have you as a friend. If you want, that is."

She cocked her head. "You could’ve just said that without going to such lengths to get me in your room."

He shrugged. "I didn’t want to seem like a creep."

Her brows rose, incredulity dripping from her voice. "And yet, you’ve accomplished that goal very well."

A corner of his lips ticked up. "Forgive me?"

If Y/n were not a lowly maid, and were he not one of the High Lord’s closest warriors, Y/n would have clocked him over the head with a pan.

"Good night, Azriel."

Y/n turned, then walked away quickly, ignoring the quiet, amused smile on his face as he stepped deeper into his room and closed the door, just as she ignored the pang of confusing longing in her chest.

Just as she ignored the spark against her ribs.

Maybe I’ve got acidity.

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@berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

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Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

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@mellowmusings @dnfhascorruptedme @fuckingsimp4azriel @moonchildlv @curiosandcourioser

[spoopdeedoop]

me too

[dang-dood]

everyone meet my baby girl, the master

[chipamipasion]

CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT SPY!MASTER PUPPY EYES???

He's always fucking around and then he serves puppy eyes AND THAT'S INSANE

[acatalepsy-and-tea]

I love the implications of 13 and "O" texting for multiple years because they are kind of upsetting: The Doctor having a friend across regeneration, and then he turns out to be someone else, someone they (should) hate. Sure, sucks that they were fooled, but what I think is worse is that they lost a friend she can't really mourn, because that friend wasn't real and (from her pov) even if he was, it would be inappropriate to be sad about him being gone. The Master being able to talk to the Doctor in a normal, easy, not-tainted way for a prolonged time the first time in centuries, maybe even millenia. But it's not real. Because the Doctor doesn't know it's them. She isn't talking to him, really. Which is totally okay because this is just another scheme, and it totally doesn't cause him complicated emotions that he refuses to acknowledge

[thirteens-pocket-watch]

Sacha Dhawan understands Thoschei like no one else

[how-masterful]

You know what. I take it back. I'm glad the master didn't appear in the reality war. I'm glad he's stuck in a golden tooth picked up by a mysterious hand with red nail polish. I'm glad we don't know where he is. Because after what he did to the rani I do not trust RTD with the master. I do not trust him to give the character the respect and truthful, meaningful characterisation he deserves.

[azrielwingspan]

A TACTICAL PLOY (AZRIEL X READER)

Summary : You knew Azriel had been pining after you for a very long time but you NEEDED him to make a move. So in order to give him a little push, you made use of a very tactical weapon : Jealousy.

Warnings: None

Blue eyes. Green eyes. Brown eyes. Eyes trailing you across the room, whispering across your skin , feeding your ego. Yet your eyes sought out the hazel ones.

Shades of gold, green and brown that set a trail of fire across your skin. Eyes that made you feel. Eyes that made you want. The gold pierced through your skin, peering into your heart and soul. The green trailed across your flesh, making you yearn for things that plagued your dreams. The brown spoke of a future if you only dared to take that first step.

Ah, that was the obstacle. The first step.

You had one simple rule when it came to males.

You never chase.

So as you walked through the room, your blasé attitude making you all the more enticing, your heart betrayed you ignoring the rules your mind had set. It searched for him, desperate for the hit of ecstasy he would induce.

Once it found him, the decadent hit of euphoria rushed through your veins, leaving behind a crack in your mask. It was intentional. Every emotion, every 'slip' of the tongue, every word, every glance. He was the spymaster after all.

He glanced your way and tipped his chin in greeting.

You raised your glass, taking a sip and watched his eyes trail over you.

Longing, desiring and denying.

That was all he ever did. Denied himself of you.

You would be lying if you said you understood why he did what he did. You would be lying if you said it didn't make you doubt yourself. However, you knew for a fact he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

You would've been dense to not notice the heat in his eyes, the glances filled with unfulfilled promises, the softness behind his words and the kindness in his actions. It drove you mad some days. Drove you to the brink of breaking your rule.

You never chase.

You yearned to be wanted. You yearned to be fought for. You yearned to be loved, cherished and indulged in. So you had waited... and waited...and waited. A small part of you believed you were foolish enough to keep waiting for however long it took. Yet as a female, you had your wants and needs. There was only so much patience you could exhibit and you were currently running out of it.

Therefore, you decided to give him a little...push.

Tactic I : The art of heedlessness

You shook hands, kissed cheeks, hugged bodies , all the while never looking his way. Of course, you were aware of his presence acutely. It made it all the more fun. At one point, you had walked right past him talking animatedly with one of the guests. His scent had overtaken your senses and you had to physically stop yourself from responding to it.

His eyes, trailing you, lighting your skin on fire , the tension gasoline.

Watch me. Come to me. Talk to me.

Your eyes were fixed on your companions, their words a cacophony compared to the conversations the both of you had shared. The wine was making you bolder, impatient and lulling you into thoughts you kept at bay.

Tactic II : The art of flirtation

A subtle tuck of a strand of hair behind your ear, a soft tilt of your lips, a soft huff of laughter, an inch closer. You looked away from the male in front of you to glance down at your wine. Empty.

How many more glasses would you have to guzzle down before the spymaster grew some balls?

You pulled your hair to one side, the heat starting to stick to your neck. Looking up once again, you noticed that the males gaze in front of you was transfixed to the slope of your neck. Wonderful. Time to leave.

"Well, I should go." Turning around before he could respond, you walked away in the search of more wine.

Tactic III : The art of impelling

You didn't meet his gaze as a group of you stood near the balcony overlooking the Sidra. The flow of the water reached your ears, the sound a welcome distraction. Closing your eyes momentarily, you let the memory of the coolness of the water wash over you.

"I'll be heading home now." you spoke into the night, your companions voicing out their interjections. A small smirk and shake of the head later, you walked towards the exit not bothering to say goodbye to the male with no balls.

A few kisses on the cheek, soft smiles and polite goodbyes on the way to the exit.

"I'll drop you home." the voice swept over your skin like a shadow trailing its fingers across your skin.

"I'll be alright." you said, head turned over your shoulder.

There he was, finally...

"I insist." No arguments. That was final.

"If you insist." you say, wrapping your scarf around yourself.

Silence was the third being accompanying the both of you. You let it play its part, choosing not to say anything. It was entertaining, watching him struggle to say something...anything. He was doing a good job at hiding his emotions but he could never truly hide them from you.

After watching him suffer for a few more minutes , you say "If you're done struggling, we could teach you a thing or two on how to talk to females."

His face turned red, as his shadows skittered around.

Your house had come into view, the star lit night casting soft shadows around the both of you.

"Well.." you turned to him and said watching him under the moonlight.

"Well..." he replied watching you through his shadows.

A pang of disappointment rushed through you as you took a step back from him. "Good night then."

"Good night." he said, his voice dropping.

Giving him a final nod, you turned around not wanting him to see the look of disappointment on your face. You would never be desperate...no matter who it was.

Legs feeling like lead, you forced yourself to take that first step towards your house mustering all the will power within you. Just as you had lifted your leg off of the ground, a shadow wrapped around your wrist and tugged you backwards. A yelp made its way out of you as warm hands caught you, goosebumps making their way across your skin.

For a moment only two sets of heavy breaths could be heard. Maybe he could hear your heart thudding out of your chest. You lost track of what happened in the next few seconds as the shadowsinger pulled you into a ravishing kiss, igniting your body and jumbling your thoughts.

Lips coaxed your open, tongue sliding in to give you a taste of whisky and something darker and heady. Hands travelled down your sides, stopping at your hips only to give them a gentle squeeze. Your hands were on a path of their own, travelling into his hair and giving it a gentle tug.

All your senses were attenuated to the male in front of you. You were lost in another universe, a universe of want and need.

Suddenly, he pulls back to look down at you, his eyes wild and predatory. "I couldn't put into words what I felt..."

You brushed your lips against his, eyes fluttering shut. "Then show me...."

You could feel his lips split into a devilish grin before the both of you were engulfed by shadows.

[thetorturedlovergirl]

[aziracrxw]

this took way too long eugh