#and like she can assume that it happened when i was gone??
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Lesson 54 spoilers
"...So, tell me. What is it you're plotting, exactly?" Raphael eyed Diavolo with mild irritation in his tone.
He smiles apologetically, caught in an act and felt the need to explain now. "So, you can tell something's up, huh? I was afraid of this."
"It's odd enough that we're the only ones here. And then after we were attacked, your response seemed unusually tepid. There are so many red flags..," the gray-haired angel sighs. "Of course I can tell that something's going on."
Moin speaks up. "I'm guessing that has something to do with me?"
"Yes, it does. Though it's nothing you should feel bad about." Diavolo reassures, though it's not bringing relief to the burgundy-haired human girl.
"This is about your magic power, Moin. And what has been happening to it." Mephisto stresses it strongly.
"Yes, your power has been growing greater by the day. And then there was the incident with the hostile demon in Meowcao. That's when we realized that you weren't in full control of it." Lucifer added.
Simeon nods mildly, carefully regarding Mephisto, Lucifer, and Diavolo's statements. "And when Raphael was attacked earlier, it looked like Moin cast a barrier spell of some sort, but without an incantation. I'm guessing that in the heat of the moment, the spell must have gone off subconsciously."
"What exactly is happening to Moin's powers, we need a definitive answer to that question. Then we can take action if necessary. However, we thought we needed to spend a bit more time observing things from afar." -Diavolo
"Right, our theory was built on too many assumptions. They needed to be verified." -Lucifer
"...So you used the SF as a chance to do that." -Raphael
"That's right." -Diavolo
"Ah, that must be why there was a second preliminary test. You presented everyone with a problem that no ordinary student could solve." -Simeon
"In any case, Lord Diavolo, Lucifer, and I were the only ones to pass the second test." -Mephisto
"So, it worked out exactly as you'd hoped, then." Raphael gapes his mouth a little, coming to a realization. "...Unbelievable. You mean to tell me that the fiery rock that nearly hit Simeon and the beast that attacked us were both YOUR doing?"
"No, that was the work of demons who oppose the royal family. We'd never resort to such cheap tricks." -Mephisto
"However, we knew that if we were to hold the SF finals here, those demons would see it as a good opportunity to strike... That I cannot deny." -Diavolo
"Yes. We did know they were here, and we didn't try to stop them." Lucifer sighs defeatedly. "So in that sense, you might be able to argue that it was "our doing"."
Moin's eyebrows furrowed at this. If Diavolo knew about the opposition, why didn't he do something about it? Why did it have to go as far as almost risking their lives since that incident in Meowcao?
"There are still many lower tier demons who think that harming an exchange student would be a good way to damage Lord Diavolo's reputation. They had no idea they were being lured here, the fools," Mephisto scoffs with a smirk.
"Even so, if you'd only told us this in advance-" Raphael notices Simeon who hasn't been talking for a while now. "...Um, Simeon?"
Simeon smiles. It was that frightening smile back when he used to scold the brothers. "Ah. I see... Thank you for making things so very clear." Everyone except Moin pales at the sight. She knew that Simeon would never direct his anger towards her. "For the sake of argument, I'll overlook the fact that you chose to test Moin's powers. Because I can see how that might be the only way to draw out certain aspects of these powers. Tell me though, why was it necessary to lure the Demon King's enemies into attacking us? What if Moin or Raphael had been hurt? What would you have done then, hmm?"
"It's only thanks to Moin that we're okay. Because she protected us, even though it meant putting herself in harm's way," Raphael added in.
"What's more, I'm a human now: weak and frail. Should I assume none of you cared about what might happen to me?" -Simeon
"I wouldn't call you "weak and frail"..." Lucifer mutters.
"Sorry, did you just say something, Lucifer?" Simeon pointedly smiles at him, daring to continue what he has to say.
"No, nothing."
"I didn't know it was possible to project so much anger while maintaining a smile..." Mephisto whispered to Diavolo as he takes a step closer to him.
"I'm too scared to move a muscle. It's been a long time since anyone's made me feel this way..." -Diavolo
Moin turns to Diavolo with an expressionless gaze. "I'd like you to avoid such methods in the future..., Lord Diavolo." His face immediately shifts to the one who's worried and hurt genuinely, sensing that Moin is indeed mad and felt betrayed at this whole discussion they were having. It's spiraling down rapidly that Diavolo almost forgot to consider her feelings and wanted to comfort her. But as he was about to speak his reassurances once again and offers his hand, Mephisto butts in with a disdainful remark.
"Well, I'd like it if you could learn to control your powers. Then we wouldn't be in this situation."
Something snapped in unison. There was a moment of defeaning silence, as if another wrong answer would cause an explosion, figuratively. Simeon could tell that it was the last straw. The revelation hurt her than they thought it would. And there was another person who wasn't helping the situation get any better. He could feel the gears of emotion running around her head and that she's barely holding to what she might impulsively do: tears, anger, or running away. She really wanted to do those three options but before she could react, Simeon shields Moin from them, hiding her behind his cloak.
"...Lucifer, Diavolo, Mephisto. You need to think about what you've done today."
26 notes
¡
View notes
Text
OBX 4 RANT(contains spoilers)
Thoughts on Season 4 Ending:
Honestly, me personally, I think I always knew that eventually one of the Pogues would end up dying, but I always thought it would be more towards the end(season 5ish) so that at least the main cast would get to finish out the show. But I canât say Iâm shocked that JJ was killed off this season.
JJ was my favorite character obviously, and I think he definitely deserved a happy ending as much, if not more, than the other Pogues, but also, I think by killing off the comic relief and such a beloved character, it leaves so much room for plot development and other character arcs that weren't there previously.
Kiara's season is long overdue as well as Cleos. But more than that, I think that as amazing as the Jiara plot was, it held back Kiaras character. If you compare Season 3-4 Kiara to season 1-2 Kiara, shes gotten a lot less tough than previously. and while recognizing that the Pogues have gone through a lot and that can change a character, it seems like she was the only one to go through this change, especially after her and JJ got together.(Season 1/2 Kiara would have ended Ruthie tbh.)
Kiara is also one of my favorite characters, and I cannot wait to see how she navigates season 5.
Thoughts on Riara:
While I think both Rafe and Kiara are good characters, the show has progressed too far to have the characters end up together. I love a good enemies to lovers, but theres too much history, especially with JJ gone now, to put them together.
For starters, Kiara loved JJ, and they all just lost him. Season 5 will probably pick up right where they left off(assuming there is no time jump.) and all the Pogues will be grieving and trying to avenge their best friend. So, it doesn't make sense for Kiara to run straight into Rafe Camerons arms, especially when everyone knew that JJ did not like him or trust him, so it would probably feel like a betrayal to JJ to get with Rafe.
More than that, the actress has expressed her dislike for the ship, so it would not be surprising if it never even gets mentioned.
However, I do think the Pogues, especially Kiara, are going to have an intense breakdown over JJ that only Rafe will be able to help with. I would love to see Kiara and the other Pogues be able to lean on Rafe and use him as guidance to get revenge for JJ and also figure out their emotions that Rafe has dealt with for 4 seasons now. I would also love to see Rafe lean on the Pogues for guidance as part of his character arc without replacing JJ.
Thoughts on the actors:
As someone who had watched the show from day one, I find it so crazy at how people have turned a FICTIONAL CHARACTERS DEATH, into something so much bigger. JJ Maybank was a comfort character to me as well, and I definitely cried and was upset by the ending, but I think ultimately that's a good thing.
The fact that Rudy was able to bring to life a character so well that people are making petitions to get him back should say something about how insanely talented this cast is, but instead, all I've seen is people tearing down Rudy and Madison.
What went down between the actors is not confirmed. Just because a gossip account "confirms" something, doesn't mean it's true. Do I think it's sad that such close friends can't interact in public anymore? Yes. But it's weird to theorize over it, especially because this is someone's life, these are real people.
All the hate towards the actors is just crazy to me because if you truly cared about these people and wanted them to âfind each otherâ again, you wouldnât be bringing up the things that are the rumored reasons why they donât talk in public anymore.
More than that, the hate to both of their girlfriends is just as insane. I see it happen to every attractive celebrity. The hate for Elaine, as someone who doesnât really follow the actors personal lives, seems so forced and unwarranted. People make up rumors and act like itâs the truth without any real proof that itâs real. Same thing with Madisons girlfriend. It all just seems so unreasonable to blame people that have nothing to do with the writing of the script for how the season ended.
Truly, I hope both Madison and Rudy have very successful and long careers after Outer Banks not only in spite of all the people who are claiming that they canât act(which is crazy because they literally made so many people cry and so many fans want their characters together because of how well they portrayed their characters) and that they will be nothing, but also because they are genuinely some of the most talented young actors today.
Thoughts on JJâs return:
Itâs been said by some people who work on Outer banks and write/produce the show that they could see Rudy coming back in season 5. Whether that be through a revival or through flashbacks, itâs been said that Rudy is open to coming back if it is possible.
For me personally, even though I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to have him back and have him get his happy ending, I think it would ruin the entire plot of the last season to bring him back. I think it would be nice to see the actor come back through flashbacks or other things, and I also see that as the most plausible scenario in which JJ would appear in season 5. But unfortunately, because of all the press and statements made about the show, I do not think JJ will be coming back.
Final thoughts/theories:
Did they bury JJ in Morocco?: Yes and No. I think that initially, it could have been JJ the Pogues buried, however, I think that after seeing all the backlash on them having JJ be randomly buried so far away from everyone else and making his worst fear, being alone, come true, they might change who got buried.
Keep in mind, Pope shot someone and killed them. Itâs totally possible since we didnât explicitly see who got buried that the writers could make it to be that they buried the man Pope killed instead of JJ. Or, that maybe if it was JJ, the grave is temporary until they can bring him back to the Outer Banks.
Will Luke have a redemption after JJâs death?: Maybe. I think itâs possible to see the Pogues coming to Luke as part of their ârevengeâ for JJ, but once Luke finds out about JJâs death, he will tell the Pogues what he was trying to tell JJ before he ran off. I donât necessarily think he will have a âredemptionâ and at this point, the damage has already been done and heâs already permanently hurt JJ and theres no way to fix it. But, I could see him unintentionally telling the Pogues something that could help them.
What will happen to Pope?: I think two things are possible. I think they could send him away to the Military/jail, which will result in a breakout mission similar to what we saw in season 2 with John B and JJ in jail, or, we could see him hiding out until he gets his name pardoned by Shoupe. At this point, Iâm not sure what will happen with him because so much has happened to the Pogues in such a short amount of time that his storyline could really go in any direction.
What about the baby?: I think at the end of OBX, we will get to see each of the Pogues doing what they dreamed of while still being together. Kiara will be saving turtles, Pope will end up in some kind of schooling, John B and Sarah will have the baby. Etc.
I could see them naming the baby JJ, and I think that makes the most sense to do. As for the theory that the whole show is just John B and Sarah telling their kid about JJ and the Pogues, as cute as that would be, it feels predictable and in a way, ruins the show for me. I feel like it would feel similar to the ending of how I met your mother(iykykâŚ) and I feel like it wouldnât be the most satisfying ending to the show.
I donât know if we will ever see the baby, or if we will just find out if the name will be JJ or not, who knows, but either way, it would be amazing to see each of the Pogues finally be able to settle down and get what they want.
I could also see the Pogues deciding to stick together and have that be what they all want after JJâs death and honoring him by saving the property, but again, like Popes storyline, the ending could go either way I feel.
Anyways, those are just my thoughts/opinions on the new season of OBX. Any hate towards the actors will not be tolerated <333
#obx#obx season 4#rafe obx#obx cast#obx spoilers#obx4#jj maybank#kiara carrera#pope heyward#john b routledge#sarah cameron#cleo obx#rafe outer banks
22 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Sometimes I'm scared that I'll end up like him, which is strange, because I shouldn't be able to *feel*, so why do I? Not that my fears don't have their basis. He is forever a part of me. It is him that keeps me alive, so it I reasonable to assume that I may become like him. But, is there a way to stop it from happening? Is there a way to keep his evil from spreading to me? I'm already starting to become like him, ive taken his role in the council, and in his household, and much like he refused to let me die when I wanted to give up, not out of a kind mindset, but out of the mindset to keep me suffering, I keep him alive. So now my question is: if there was a way to keep me from becoming like him, has the time frame to stop it from happening already passed? Is the *me(?)* that I and others knew gone? Did she ever exist? Was she just mirror of what people wanted to see in me? Did I ever truly have a sense of self? Or did I trick myself, along with others, into thinking I did? How am I able to feel? Don't you need a soul or a heart to do that? Did I ever have heart? I know I never had a soul, a doll, manufactured life can never have a true soul, and I know that any heart I once had is gone. So that raises the question, was I ever truly "human"? As finicky as that term is, I don't think I ever was. After all, I am just manufactured life. Manufactured life that is one day bound to become like its creator, if not worse than him.
20 notes
¡
View notes
Text
ok so this post made me think about a lot of things esp the 2022 timestamp so i decided to add a few things
the fight that happened in? ugh??
fucking messages with no time and date but could it be the same thing? or did they have an alleged huge blow-up and still were good. and then got this fight from messages and STILL were good and got only separated in 2022? the first photo is taken probably before july 2017 (lis2 ep5 timeline). could it be so that they visited david in fall 2016 and a few months later max proposed the idea of moving in? or did these 2 things happened separately?
2. the invitation
"we have been following your work and your trajectory for quite some time" HUH.
it's also interesting how as soon as safi's out of the picture max starts writing to chloe on a daily basis again. AND how every time safi's not here max thinks of chloe more:
safi dies and max spends DAYS looking at her old stuff from arcadia bay.
safi from "living" timeline hasn't changed into her yet and max wants to call chloe.
safi's vulnerable during the nightmare and max has THREE nightmare scenes about chloe and blackwell.
safi's gone from caledon and moses (MOSES) asks about chloe/arcadia bay
3. lies from safi
idk WHY but it seems to me like safi knew why max asks her about who she can turn into and the way she answers can technically be her lying to max or not saying the whole truth. see if safi did turn into max and/or chloe at some point max can't even say anything against it bc safi does say that she's "met them irl" didn't she?
4. the threat.
could also THIS mean that safi's learnt enough about who chloe actually is and that's why she "broke the frame" = decided to threaten max with this info if she needs to? bc why else would she need to break it?? i get her messing up with boxes to search for evidence but this photograph is NOT an evidence. it's more like her hurting max for lying to safi about not knowing anything. considering she's also found chloe's photo (it's not on the wall in the living timeline). + max doesn't have any of her and chloe photos on the wall bc safi is alive and it's only bc of the break in safi can learn just how much chloe mattered to max.
the way she changes the subject of "who you can turn into" so QUICK. "only if i've met them irl... trying to guess who i turned into?" and once max starts talking about lucas you can clearly see the parallel between him and max herself.
what could that all mean? that a person who's finally VERY hurt can do whatever she can do with this information about chloe. i'd also like to notice how she doesn't use that card yet while she's trying to negotiate with max before the major decision.
but once she realizes you are not siding with her? that's when she might go to chloe (assuming she hasn't yet).
reasons why it might be safi all along (i mean why not).
disclaimer! i don't THINK i'm going to be right but i have been thinking about this game and all it's characters for so long that i won't stop until the next game is out i guess. do take this with a grain of salt just in case..
so. yeah. in a perfect circumstances the next game is going to be about max again. and safi. again. and many other things that i'll explain below but i also have tl;dr at the bottom bc there's a lot to talk about.
before we start i want to establish a few things about safi: she can turn into anybody she's met irl. she can leave parts of herself in people when she turns into them. these parts act as things that "change" people making them more like safi (something poetic about her losing parts of herself and being more like others she turns into and others becoming more and more like her). and she can potentially manipulate people.
part 1: all the things that happened before.
there are some weird things that are mentioned even before lis:de timeline. max has a part in her journal about how yasmin "was just some hot older lady who seemed to really want to be my friend" and safi CAN become her mother if she wants to. and even if it's actually yasmin it might be safi's part in her that wants max here. max is also promised an apartment where she "could bring friends over if she had any" and then the first day at uni safi comes in and says hi "like we've been friends for years"??? FOR YEARS??
"did you snoop into my wallet??" seriously how come we moved on from this THIS FAST???? like i get it safi getting into max's house in ep3 to see what max is up to but ep1? why would she want to get to learn about max this way?
i've checked their sms and there's one interesting thing when safi is being like "not to sound like a creeper but are you still at turtle?" or something and it IS interesting how she knows it (max being all alone at thanksgiving at turtle).
what could this all mean? well, 2 things. either safi is really interested in max's life and wants to know her and she doesn't care about consent, personal space and privacy (something max does if she romances amanda btw). or she needs to know not who max is but what, but more on that later.
part 2: max as a character.
although i do think that it's possible for max to be who she is in de given 10 years of growth but also given all the previous things i've said it might be safi's part in her making her act like this. max's freakiness totally comes from safi (remember ep4 dialogue between them), her confidence comes from her too (is it about her having more confidence or max having a lot of confidence through the years before (enough for her to win a few competitions)).
also! remember that max has taken out safi's parts out of moses, gwen and herself? and still safi can turn into her (vinh, yasmin and amanda). i also do wonder if it means that safi doesn't have "influence" on these people she can just turn into them? but then also -
part 2.5: "why isn't it hurting me?"
- also consider this: could it be so that safi lied to max and some part of her is still here. might as well explain why she hasn't replied to chloe's message anyways. or does it mean that safi has "been inside her" for so long that max doesn't even notice it yet.
it is rather interesting how there are a lot of moments specifially with safi that get brushed off and not mentioned again: the wallet thing, safi being too cruel in ep4 confession, her explanation for max not being hurt by her. could there be something more to it?
part 3: the reasoning.
ok. but really like why? why would she need to get max here in the first place? could this be just an accident with the universe being so kind to plot something like this? or could it be safi wanting more talented (like actually talented wink wink lucas) people here and she's noticed max and her work and decided to bring her here?
yeah it can be just it.
it can also be that safi just lied.
part ???: the one where i think safi lies.
ok but also let's imagine for a second that safi just. lied about many things. she did know about arcadia bay (weird how she's ready to snoop into max's wallet but can't google one thing about her? is it really THAT hard to either google who she is and to learn that she's from oregon or to go through her friends online see victoria chase and see that victoria probably posted about arcadia bay. like c'mon guys it can't be THAT hard). she did know that max has powers (just not what kind). she knew about chloe and met her personally.
if you go into the theory of safi becoming "others" who she shapeshifts as then her saying "partner in grime", doing the finger pistols, even her eagerness to "sacrifice herself for a greater good" - might all be from chloe.
she might've lied about not knowing anything to learn just how much max is weak for these things (something she's done for lucas).
part 5: the nightmare sequence.
it starts off pretty realistically with max encountering moses copying safi (one thing she talks about and it being potentially implied that she leaves a part of herself in people and they will act more like safi) but then something weird happens: the nightmare becomes personal. suddenly it's safi being in "chloe"'s position, it's blackwell's bathroom (max told safi about this) max having a weird unexplainable memory of her breaking up with chloe over safi's "coolness" (something she would've never said herself could it just be max). there are memories of her in the darkroom (mentioned in the diary), motels (something safi could've never known). it is kinda weird to focus on these things while the whole "nightmare" is more about helping safi becoming herself again. there's too much chloe for something that shouldn't include her in the first place (bc safi hasn't met her, has she?đ¤¨đ¤Ť)
"she was in my head back there, and she didn't think of me at all" and "you know i was in love with her, or i thought i was" are two very interesting quotes from vinh that could mean that safi CAN make someone feel certain things she wants them to feel.
could she also make max feel like she needs to move on from chloe? given how eager she was to make max a move on amanda?
so yeah i do kinda feel like max hasn't finished her job fully and that something's got fixed but not all.
bonus part: aren't they merging already??? wait WHAT.
this thing is written at the very end of the game after safi, after nightmares after EVERYTHING. "something has been restored" and i wonder what, considering that it's not about safi or other peoples' memories. could it be that more that these two timelines merged? i mean it could also mean just max herself being "restored" by being able to save the day with everyone this time around but we'll see.
ok, wait! part 6: bay over bae.
almost forgot it. but yeah how can bay thing be somewhere here? well for once chloe is still important to max in this timeline the only problem is safi not being able to meet her "irl". i mean unless!! she evolves her powers enough to be able to "mimic" not only a person but their power/s as well. and given how she knows both of max's powers she can either timetravel to meet chloe or just travel to a parallel timeline to meet her future self (and to hurt max even more) or both. and now this will be the worst.
tl;dr? kinda?
what could that all mean? it could mean that safi has plotted max getting into caledon (to get what kind of powers max has/to exploit her talent to boost university's fame) and her only way to achieve that would be if max and chloe broke up (given how chloe didn't want to settle in with max yet. or if max wouldn't want to come "home" yet.
OR
it could mean that safi knows max's WEAKEST spot now and might, y'know, use it given a chance and a reason. and oh boy does she has a reason to (esp if you don't side with her). she can turn very fast against someone (did this to gwen and max), one wrong thing and she will want to hurt max in the worst way (remember how she's told all these awful things to robbie despite personally knowing him??? and it's all bc of his dad's actions?).
but only time will tell.
#sorry for chloe cosplay i... i forgot about which save file i've had#life is strange#max caulfield#lis#safi llewellyn fayyad#safiya llewellyn fayyad#life is strange: double exposure
33 notes
¡
View notes
Text
my roommates dog absolutely decimated the living room and i am so fucking tempted to just leave it till she comes home so she can clean it up
#yesterday when she slept in (so the house was quiet) of course i wasnât able to sleep in and woke up for some reason at 7:30#and that was when her dog was quietly sleeping in the living room#but today when she gets up and goes to the gym and is around the house and Loud i fall back asleep every time#AND WAKE UP AT 11 DESPITE HER DOG TEARING THE LIVING ROOM APART?!#when she gets home at work iâll be gone for my shift since i work this evening#and like she can assume that it happened when i was gone??#i mean this morning i heard some noise downstairs but i didnât get up to check it out cause i Didnât Care#plus i was exhausted and had trouble falling asleep last night (hello depression!)#iâve cleaned up this dogs messes before and heâs fucking annoying#lindsay.text
6 notes
¡
View notes
Text
sorry i'm thinking abt megumi's incessant desire to be the first to die vs. the narrative keeping him alive despite and how the most tragic ending for him is not actually dying, but being left behind. for megumi, the worst fate is living a long life
#megumi growing up assuming he will be the first to die out of those he loves#bc gojo is the Strongest and tsumiki is a non-sorcerer so they should both be Safe while megumi is just. megumi#vs megumi at 15 having lost tsumiki gojo nobara nanami etc etc and knowing it's only a matter of time before he loses yuuji too#megumi not knowing how to be the survivor because he never thought he'd live long enough to have to say goodbye#also sometimes i think abt that post that was like... remember in thg how katniss' motivation for Everything is saving prim?#and then prim still died at the end because the world they lived in could not allow someone so good to live? it could not allow#katniss the One thing she wanted most#yeah so like. everything megumi is doing and has done has been for tsumiki. it's all been for her#but the world they live in is cruel and tsumiki is too good of a person#and when has megumi ever been granted anything he's wanted? why should the world allow him his one biggest desire of tsumiki's safety?#and what is megumi supposed to do when he outlives the one person who has been by his side - the one person he wanted most to save#how is he supposed to live a long life when everyone he cares about is gone? how is he supposed to care about new people?#what's that one quote that's like. a son or a husband can be replaced but who can grow me a new brother#no one can replace tsumiki. megumi cannot find a new sister#yes losing gojo and yuuji would be devastating. but at the end of the day megumi has known yuuji for only a few months#and gojo was already a replacement for his father#tsumiki has been with him longest and she's always been megumi's main motivation#she's the reason he didn't go to the zenin clan. she's the reason he was trained by gojo. she's the reason they're all in the culling games#trying to fix it from the inside and running on a time limit#and what happens if he CAN'T save her. what happens if. like katniss and prim. despite EVERYTHING. tsumiki still has to die#THIS IS ALL BECAUSE OF TSUMIKI#BECAUSE MEGUMI WANTS TO SAVE HER#DO YOU UNDERSTAND!!!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE TRAGEDY IN BEING ALIVE WHEN EVERYONE ELSE IS GONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#sorry i'm not normal about fictional sibling dynamics. btw if you even care#hello grace here#jjk spoilers#update i just realized it's not even 7am. as you can tell i'm having a great time today
448 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Thinking about Celann and his ever present grief at the life he could have had, he and his wife and (he always hoped) their daughter. A life where he was a father--he'd hardly ever wanted anything more than that. So full of love he was ready to burst and needed somewhere to put it, wanted a life with his favorite girls.
Thinking about how the ever present desire haunts him no matter how deep he buried it. It keeps coming back, relentlessly, this anguish that he threw it all away. He could have had exactly what he wanted and he was stupid enough to abandon it all, and for what? Because he was upset? But then he always remembers how hollow he felt after the incident, like if you rapped him with a knuckle you'd hear he was just a shell. He forgives himself, then, remembers how wrong everything felt, and he thinks about all the time he spent desperately trying to make everything feel right again.
Remembers when he realized he was the problem, what needed to be fixed. Removed.
He abandoned the life he had and every dream he'd ever held close because he wasn't him anymore. Celann would never have killed anyone, would never have done... that. He was some other Celann, different, trying to make himself fit in the life of a man that no longer existed. And so he left.
And he has no right to ache so badly at the thought of what he gave up, no right to ache at the loss of a family (of two families, but he starts thinking that and breaks every time, so he's gotten good at simply skipping over the thought) when he was a killer--an adept one, a practiced one--that could mangle and maul and kill and do it again and again. What right does he have to still want that happy little dream?
But the dream is a ghost and it haunts him, is there every time he's out on a supply run and sees kids playing around the marketplace, sees women cradling infants and fathers carrying sons on their shoulders. (He reminds himself of the blood on his hands, is scared he might stain them with it if he reaches out to touch them.) It's there when he has a bag and his axe hanging from his hips and finds a girl crying for her mother, lost and separated, jostled by the crowd.
It's there as he calms her, kneeling on wet and gritty stone, hovering between her and the flow of the crowd so they give her space. He lifts her and holds her against his side with one arm and something in him weeps, feels something soft in him as her tiny weight settles and she starts chattering at him about the groceries she and her mother came to buy.
They weave their way through the marketplace as they help each other--she tells him where he can find what he needs, and he silently curses the nords and their height as he tries to peer over shoulders to catch a glimpse of the woman she described--and that cold weight that's usually settled in his chest, his grief and remorse, lightens with every step. She's warm through his sweater and splutters indignantly every time the ever changing wind blows her brown hair into her mouth and he laughs, quiet and warm.
They check places she's already been, in case her mother doubled back looking for her, and take detours so Celann can fumble to place newly acquired groceries in the bag beneath her, unwilling to hold her over the side with his axe and equally unwilling to put her down, awkwardly shifting her weight as she laughs at him. He's silly for buying such expensive things, she tells him, and he light heartedly tells her Skyrim is silly for not having the things he used to use in High Rock. The revelation he hasn't always lived in Skyrim excites her to no end, and the rest of the trip is a Q&A of the sort only a small child can provide.
He feels warm inside, in his chest, where usually he feels vaguely cold at best, and for a moment he's reluctant to relinquish her when they finally find her mother, guided by the sounds of panicked calls of her name. There's a fond sadness as he sets her down on the stones again, and the woman looks at him oddly for a moment before the look turns knowing, though he's sure the conclusion she reached is slightly off.
She quietly asks if her daughter reminds him of her. He stands there silently for a moment, looking down at the little girl as she rifles through the things her mother's found.
He tells her yes.
#celann#fucking girldad#guy who wants small house white picket fence and 2.5 kids forced to become a murderer#cant live with the guilt and horror and becomes a man he cannot recognize in the mirror more at 6#me thinking about this last night: he uses Adult Privileges to be tall and look out over the crowd#me writing this: his short ass cant see over everyone else#its fine enough when hes just in the fort like usual but then theres a crowd and hes like goddammit#anyway he has to go get his fancy ingredients because NO you CAN use that but it doesnt TASTE RIGHT#and so he has been banished to specifically get his own goddamn groceries#celann: im a cold blooded killer and i can never atone for the atrocities i have committed. i am incapable of good#also celann: đđđđđđ#the loss of self after the incident really fucked him up he doesnt know who he is#he keeps trying to categorize himself and neatly file himself away but the fact remains#he is both the old celann and a new one simultaneously#however he feels tainted by his actions and thinks of the Before as like a purer time and he is not a pure man#so CLEARLY he is not AT ALL the old celann and those good traits are gone#anyway he goes soft when theres kids just absolutely melts#like the only guy in the dg that can be trusted to watch a small child#also in case it wasnt clear when the mother akss 'does she remind you of her' shes assuming his daughter is dead#shes asking if her daughter reminds him of his own#delivering your typical celann angst and remembering when i said i should write happy things for him#unfortunately this has not happened yet the happy things just happen in my mind
6 notes
¡
View notes
Text
sometimes i think maybe it's a good thing i'm so traumatized and fucked up mentally and emotionally bc then i never expect ppl to be kind or even just plain old nice to me, so when they ARE kind or nice i feel overwhelming gratitude and almost a sense of awe HFDSJKL like... i dont know if i would have had this appreciation for each little piece of kindness if i wasn't the way that i am. but also i know thats kind of an absolutely wild way of thinking about this LMAO
#but then on the other side of things i still get really hurt when ppl are cruel or just the usual flavour of mean#like i had a mother with a stroller get huffy and aggressive w me yesterday as i was getting off the bus and that rly stuck w me#idk what else i could've done in that situation except control my tone a little better maybe but i was really anxious#because her stroller was in the way of the aisle and i was trying to figure out the fastest way to navigate around it to exit#bc the bus drivers are always in a hurry so i didnt want to keep anybody waiting while i got around her stroller#so i just said ''sorry i just need to get by'' and i think my tone was not Perfectly Pleasant bc i was really anxious and unsure#but i meant it as a ''sorry if i touch ur stroller as i squeeze past'' dsjfkl i didnt mean it like ''u need to move ur shit for me''#alas. i think she took it as the latter. also im pretty sure she was on edge already bc she knew her stroller would be in the way#anyways i said that and she did the thing where ppl throw up their hands in a really quick defensive/aggressive half-shrug gesture#where they're gesturing like ''what the fuck !!! what are you doing !!!'' idk how common that gesture is dsjkl i see it a lot around town#and i just quickly squeezed past her stroller and tried not to touch it as little as i could and then said thank you and scuttled away#BUT IT REALLY BOTHERED ME THAT SHE GOT SO HUFFY ABOUT IT. i've been trying to figure out what i could've done differently#unfortunately i think its just one of those things where we were BOTH anxious or on edge so she was just assuming i was being aggressive#bc she probably expected ppl to be rude about her stroller so... when u expect that it'll colour ur perceptions of ppls behaviours#so i am not even upset w her at all fsdjkl i simply wish it had gone better. alas!! what a silly little encounter to be ruminating over#ANYHOWDY... I am glad that i can have such appreciation for kindness when it happens fdsjkdl#like i had a little snippet of small talk about bananas with a stranger in the grocery store last year and i still think about it happily#bc idk. it means so much to me. making little connections w ppl! its very very important to me bc i dont get it very often!#and theres some kind things ppl have said to me online that have stuck with me or will stick with me for honest-to-god years fdsjkl#and perhaps i am a sap but ... I'm just glad i can hold these small bits of goodness so close to my heart bc it makes life a little nicer#pippen needs 2nd breakfast
4 notes
¡
View notes
Text
its time for yet another brain game of am i like fully neurotic or was this genuinely not a cool situation . prize is jack shite and yet im playing anywaysđ
#j.txt#vent#just like. to preface. im not bringing any of this up im just going to stew in it for the night and then move on as per usual#alright disclaimer made now i can get to the point. So. tonight is my close irl friends bday right but she didnt tell me about any plans#so i naturally assumed she was gonna do her own thing and not really celebrate. Ive had work all day and while working get a text frm her#asking if we want to go to this restaurant i introduced our group to for dinner. so i respond saying oh im off at this time if yall want to#go even tho its late i can. Never get a response so i assume theyll bring it up when i get back. get home and no ones here not a word abt#whats going on. i do my usual unwinding get ready to chill etc which takes abt half an hour. she comes back with our other mutual friends#and theyve already gone to the restaurant which is fine i get it. but they get back and say oh now we're going to this themed music night at#a club we've all been to before as soon as (other friend) changes. and then just. dont offer for me to come along or anything and leave.#which like. whatever its happened a hundred times before im used to it but Still. does it not even occur that I might want to participate??#if i had Any notice that this was happening I could have been getting ready instead of slacking around waiting for someone to get home#its so. i try extrememly hard not to be a downer or just invite myself to things bc I Know this is how they all operate but it does still#sting that it feels like im not even thought of if i dont happen to be in the room when plans are being made lol.#and obv I am Not bringing this up rn and ruining what im sure was a really fun night for all of them#its just truly a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation yknow. but such are the whims of fate and i shall endure as alwaysâď¸
2 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Sometimes it really feels like me my sister and my mum are the only ones who actually take care of my cat
#cause i slept in today its like the afternoon#i fed him at 7:30 am which means he needs to eat again at like 1 or 2pm#i let my cousin now that it needs to be at 1 but i dont tell my brother because he should know weve been on this feeding schedule for 2 mths#know*#its now 5:52 pm and im asking was he fed#none of them know#apparently my sister gave him food so now im asking what time so i can adjust timing if i need to#they dont know#so i call her and ask and all she gave him was a lil snack#so now im asking why didnt anyone ask her what she gave him cause now hes gone nearly 12 hours with no proper food#mind you hes not even a cat yet hes still a kitten#my brother goes why would i ask i was in tuition#i asked when did she leave before or after you finished tuition#he says after and then i go why didnt you ask her what she gave him#and he goes i wasnt bothered with anything after tuition ended and my sister left just as it ended so how was i supposed to ask#i then tell him he could have called her to check#then he goes well our sister gave him something so why would i ask#them we go down the same circle i just spoke about again#and i had to end it before i got aggressive cause i actually couldnt with him#and told him that assuming something and knowing something 100% are 2 very different things and that he should learn the difference#and that the cat not getting fed properly because people assume heâs been fed but do not ask has happened too many times now#and that itâs getting so so jarring now#okay vent over wow that really pissed me off
0 notes
Text
ok Heres some thoughts now that im not stupidly sleepy anymore. i like thinking about dreamys first encounter with miles after entering his universe, freshly mutated and not having any real idea of whats going on, confused as fuck. so they see spiderman on the news and go âshit, thats the guy i gotta talk to, how the FUCK do i get in contact with himâ and then IM THINKING they do something very silly and dramatic which is to stage a crime like an armed robbery or something so hell show up, then as soon as hes there they drop the weapon or whatever and go âoh good it worked. sorry about scaring everyone i just needed to talk to spiderman for a second ill find some way to pay for therapy if anyone needs it after thisâ and then telling him about their own powers so he can help
#cherry chats#dreamy đ#ahhh wait fuck. just realized i should change that tag fo have an emoji in case anyone follows the dreamy tag#augh. hold on. brb#dont read this post yet its not finished. ill come back and say more stuff in the tags in like 10 minutes or smth#OK BACK!!!!! i have more shit on dreamy now that idk if ive said before#their relationship with liv in their original dimension has over time morphed into the WORST fwb deal in the whole world#liv has become so incredibly manipulative and actually downright obsessed w them. idk how that happened#she tries to prevent them from talking to anyone shes jealous she has tantrums shes admitted the true nature of the collider project and its#ties to kingpin etc etc#shes absolutely crazy over there. and i LOVE it#she thinks she can manipulate dreamy They manipulate her right back. theyre sooooo fucked up <3#and they came to milesâ dimension not by choice but as a result of the accident. spider society hates them because theyre anomalous#and also Erm a shit hero. by spider society standards#they have nothing more than just a vague feeling and fleeting memories and strange dreams from their original dimension#theyve tried looking themself up in alchemax personnel files but finding nothingâ because in 1610 they never worked there#so their memories dont add up with the reality around them which is obviously. SOO fucking frustrating#also. news on powers. their extra eyes have nightvision and their fangs have a temporarily paralyzing venom đ#they dont know that for sure though. they havent run any tests because they would need a living subject for that and the way they found out#in the first place was accidentally biting their tongue. so they dont know for sure how the venom works#but i know. and its paralyzing The effect is less for them since its their venom but still potent enough to cause irritation#like. when they bit their tongue it stiffened and tensed up for awhile but no numbing#if it bit someone else it would have a marginally stronger effect#and ummâŚâŚ. umm. well actually maybe thats all#after their vanishing in their home dimension shit fell apart over there#both liv and ohnn were distraught and tried looking for them but eventually gave up#theyre gone for years before they manage to find home after allâŚâŚ.. they just assume theyd been offed or something#so umm. i think thats it đ i love dreamy i think theyr great#still not sure what their home dimension is called though. i like 8084 but im not sure#so yay My spidey baby Teehee ^__^ i like thinking about their lore a lot ithink its fun
1 note
¡
View note
Text
oh. hm.
#i had a realization today and now i feel so absolutely horrible.#when i was out w friends today one of them wasn't having a good time and stepped out for a moment#and in the back i could hear the other 2 whispering to each other basically abt how she's been like this last time they hung out too#the consensus unspoken was that there was sth off. but they kinda just kept moving along. i stepped out for a bit bc i felt like idk.#she's out alone on the streets someone has to make sure she's okay right.#when I'm back one of them goes oh i was just wondering where you were. as if everything is normal.#after a bit of wandering around in the store the other goes oh where is xxx? as if we weren't all there when she said she's gonna step out.#as if they didn't discuss her behavior right after.#and it suddenly reminded me of when i found my ex with her head buried in her hands when i was gone for a bit.#and i was like oh what's going on and the other 2 there were just chatting and one of them just is like idk she's sleeping.#She Was Crying. I was so. idk. i was panicking i was so worried. And I was so mad too bc how could they not notice a friend being unwell??#and i hated myself for it bc it was my fault for leaving her there and i had her id and it was really my fault and i wouldn't have known#i wouldn't have known that. idk. i thought she was left with people who were her friends who should then pay attention to her wellbeing#idk i. i would have trusted my friends to take care of or at least be aware of how i feel.#but we left for a bit and nobody even noticed. what happened. someone even texted asking where did we go.#and idk it's just the same thing i just realized and connected the dots. they will pay lip service. they will tell u they care abt u.#and they will echo it among themselves oh i worry abt xxx is xxx okay oh yeah xxx has been acting like this as if it actually does anything.#and nobody will actually make sure later on. that she is actually. doing fine. that they can do what's good for her atm.#and God. I'm just realizing that. idk. i. i wish i could've been a better support for my ex if she really had needed it at the time. idk.#i was just listening to what other ppl were telling me. but i. i didn't think it through. if these are the ppl she has for support.#if they didn't care to make me feel cared for. if they didn't care to check if she was okay back then. idk i. God.#oh God. what if i fucked up majorly. god. oh god. idk i just thought they treated me like that bc thry we're mad at me#but what if it's. not a me issue. and i shouldn't have trusted that other ppl would take care of her. bc they aren't. trustworthy in that.#ugh but at the same time. she asked for space from me. what else was i supposed to assume than that she didn't want me around?#at the very very least at least I'm sure her family loves her a lot and will care for her and make sure she's okay. god. i hope so.#idk!! i care but in my position i don't think me caring or wanting to help does anything. she doesn't want my support. she doesn't want me.#idk it's something wrong w me probably i genuinely don't know. she's the one telling me she's worried I'm pushing ppl away so.#it's not behavior she condones ig so it makes no sense if she does it herself if she believed i was good for/to her but still pushed me away#so in conclusion There's gotta be something that i fucked up There's gotta be sth wrong w me but i. god. i.#i have so much to nitpick with myself i genuinely don't even know if I'm a good measure or judge of what i did wrong or right.
1 note
¡
View note
Text
Lads should I go to pride
#i havenât been to one since 2019. i wanted to last year but. The Knee#(dislocated my knee on 21st may; pretty much every pride near me was in june; i couldnât walk properly until august.. etc)#iâm more or less fine now and i want to go. i just donât have anyone to go With#literally all of my friends either have small children and are impossible to plan anything with because of that#or they are in america. and are impossible to plan anything with because of THAT#like i know whatâll happen if i ask my best friend if she wants to go to pride with me. sheâll say âyeahâ then never follow up#in october of last year she literally invited me to a small local pride and i said yes and she said okay iâll let you know what the plan is#and then i didnât hear anything so i assumed she wasnât going anymore and then i found out she went without me#we literally only ever hang out to do mundane stuff. like run errands together. i donât think weâve ever gone to an event together#unless it was by accident. like when i ran into her at the kite festival#sheâs taken all of her close friends on trips in her van except me#i get invited to birthdays but she never wants to see me at new yearâs or anything like that#so i donât think iâll bother inviting her to pride#i can go by myself. iâm an adult. i donât know what iâll wear but iâm sure i can put something together#personal
1 note
¡
View note
Text
Be Patient | Azriel x Reader
summary: After the mating bond snaps, Azriel follows you to the Day Court, where he spends seven days patiently longing after you.
warnings: fluff, mild angst bc of Az pining and lowkey being a menace in day court and reader being a little dense, also this is really long, 11K, my longest one shot ever...
note: This is a part two to Be Safe but can be read as a stand alone too. Huge shoutout to @stormhearty , @daycourtofficial & @thecrowesnest13 & the sweet overexcited anon who helped me with this! This is set pre-ACOTAR events and I realized my mistake in naming Helion as High Lord because I think he became High Lord UTM? so for this fic's sake, let's just assume he was already High Lord..
Mate.Â
The realization crashes over Azriel like a tidal wave. Itâs almost suffocating. Mine, the bond in his chest roars. Protect. The emotions swell, fueled by his shadows whispering and urging him on to go and keep you safe. Because who better to do so than him?
Before he knows it, heâs following you into Day Court, his shadows swallowing his form until Morâs and Cassianâs laughter are distant echoes.
Piercing violet eyes greet him as soon as he steps out from his shadows, blocking his view. Itâs almost as if he had been expecting Azriel. Talons rake across the shields of his mind and Azriel reluctantly lets him in. Go back, Rhysand asserts, holding the shadowsingerâs gaze.
I canât, he nearly growls in his mind.Â
The thought of leaving you, not being by your side is insufferable. Itâs this very thought that has some of his shadows dancing toward you, the shadow curled around his ear whispering to him about your whereabouts. You stand, a couple of feet away, speaking with Helion. Youâre completely oblivious to the two Illyrian males glaring at one another.
What do you mean you canât? Rhysand doesnât even attempt to hide the irritation in his tone.
Azriel then shows Rhysand what happened just moments ago. The mating bond snapping into place right as you were winnowing away. He leaves out the part where Cassian and Mor had been teasing him but he suspects Rhysand was aware of that.
Rhysand lets out a sigh, running a hand down the length of his face. What appears to be exhaustion tears through his features before he leans in toward the taller male. âReally?â He whispers in an exasperated hush. âRight now?
Azriel falters with a huff, his head following the direction his shadows had gone. Itâs only when his gaze lands on you that it softens. âYou say it like I had a choice.âÂ
But boy is he glad it is you.
âFine,â Rhysand sighs after a long moment of silence. He knows he canât do anything about it, the determination in the Shadowsingerâs eyes burning bright. Heâd fear going against the Cauldron if he did. âYou can stay. Butââ he lifts a jewel adorned finger in warningââyou distract herââ
Azrielâs head turns back to Rhysand and thereâs a frown on his face. âI donât distract her.â
âPlease,â Rhysand chuckles in disbelief. âListen, Iâm happy for you. Truly. But we didnât come all this way for nothing and I need her to be able to focus. She canât even think properly around you and if she finds out youâre herââ
âShe thinks about me?â
Rhysand shuts his mouth with a withering stare.
Azrielâs shadows are then whispering madly, coercing him to turn his attention back to you. Youâre giggling and smiling at Helion, cheeks flushed with a blush. Azriel flushes too but for an entirely different reason. Helion has your hand in his, amber eyes holding you captive, as heâs slowly lifting it up to his lips.Â
Shadows are coiling softly around your wrist and before Helion can kiss your hand, your hand is being pulled away from his. Helionâs brows furrow, hand falling to his side as one lone shadow floats in front of him. He is not fluent in shadows but the way it writhes at him gives one clear message. Â
âOh, hi!â
Azriel watches, taking note of the small fond smile that forms on your face as you recognize the dark tendrils wrapped around your arm. Your eyes find him almost immediately and then youâre walking toward him.  Â
âAzriel, what are you doing here?â
âShadowsinger,â Helion purrs in greeting, a pleased smirk on his face that grows at Azrielâs indifferent nod. âI was not aware you were coming too.â
Rhysand places a hand on Azrielâs shoulder, his fingers digging into the soft, black leather. Donât say anything. Rhysand warns in his mind. Weâll talk somewhere else.
Rhysand forces a charming smile onto his face and Helionâs eyes flicker with interest. âI apologize for the short notice but Azriel is here to⌠escort y/n.â
âEscort?â
Both you and Helion say in unison. Though Helionâs tone carries mirth, yours carries shock. Confusion clouds your features, worry flickering in your wide eyes. Rhysand mustâve eased your mind, for Azriel feels the tension leave your muscles shortly afterwards. Still, you inch closer to him, as if seeking the comfort of his presence. He instinctively mirrors your movement, the blue siphons on his leathers brushing against your arm and gleaming in response.
 âYou offend me, Rhys. Iâve welcomed you to my court with no ill intention.â Helion chides, though his voice is light with humor.
ây/n here is just very precious to us,â Rhysand says, choosing his words carefully. âI hope you can understand.â
Azrielâs shadows whisper the details of the scene around him, noting the apologetic look Rhysand sends to Helion. The High Lord of Day chuckles, but Azrielâs focus remains steadfastly on you. You turn to him with a questioning smile and he returns your smile, the warmth in his hazel eyes answering your unspoken question.
âI can see why,â comes Helionâs response, gaze lingering on you with an appreciative gleam.
Azrielâs head whips fast toward the High Lord of the Day Court and another sigh escapes Rhysand.
**
âSeven days. Thatâs all I ask.â
âThatâs seven days too long, Rhys.â
Rhysand falters back, appalled by those words. He lets out a small laugh. âToo long? Seven days is too long but a whole century wasnât?â
âIt hasnât been a century,â Azriel hisses and Rhysand raises his brows. âItâs been eighty nine years. Besides, itâs different now.â
Youâre his mate now. Â
The mating bond had snapped into place with such force that he was still reeling from its impact. It was as if every emotion of his was amplified, sending a startling quiver through those golden threads in his chest. Jealousy jerked the most. Itâs why every few seconds, his gaze flickered towards the hall you had disappeared into with the High Lord known for his scandalous appetites. One of his shadows had stayed with you and though he knew it would come back if Helion tried anything, it did nothing to ease him. He should be beside you right now. Not beside Rhysand, who seemed keen on keeping you from him.
âYou saw the way she looked at you when you arrived.â
Azriel turned back to Rhysand, that image of you reappearing in his mind from Rhysandâs perspective. Surprise had flickered across your features, but like a passing storm cloud, it swiftly gave way to brightness. Your eyes sparkled, your lips curved into a fond smile. Without hesitation, you left Helion's side, drawn instinctively toward Azriel. It was as if nothing else mattered but him, as if there was no one else in the world but you two.
The bond in his chest sings in delight because overriding all other emotions swirling madly around, there is love.
Azriel had loved you long before the bondâs sudden manifestation. His feelings had grown silently over the years, nurtured through shared moments and unspoken gestures. He knew he had to confess his feelings to youâsomething that had been eating at him for years. Eighty nine years to be exact, as he pointed out just a moment ago.
But fear always held him back.
Fear that he had mistaken your kindness for something more. Fear that he would ruin the decades of friendship you two had built. Fear that you loved him but not enough to see past his scars.
He realizes now how ridiculous those fears sound.
The kindness you harbored for him was not the same kindness you showed others. Your friendship was strong and precious, something he would fiercely protect no matter what. Your hand always sought his, never showing disgust towards the marred roughness of his own. You had even dedicated so much of your time to researching Prythianâs herbs and treatment for burns, working with Madja to make a special concoctionâa soothing balm to alleviate the inevitable pains.Â
By the Mother, he was a fool and it took the bond snapping into place to realize it.
âYes. You both are.â
Now, the golden threads in his chest urged him to confess, to bridge that small lingering distance between youâ
âBut you canât. Not now.â
âGet out of my head,â Azriel snaps, glaring at his brother.
âWell, I canât help it if youâre thinking so loudly,â Rhysand replies, a touch defensively. âLook, y/n has been looking forward to this trip so much. If you tell her about the bond, it will consume her every thought and cloud that brilliant mind of hers. I know this is selfish of me but I need her to be focused and you to be patient.â
Azrielâs glare wavers. He knows how much this trip means to you. It was the first time Rhysand was entrusting a task upon you outside of the Night Courtâs borders. Getting to see the magnificent library of the Day Court was also all your bibliophile heart could talk about. His desire to protect you and respect your focus battled fiercely with his yearning to tell you about the bond.
âSeven days?â
âSeven days,â Rhysand confirms, the tension easing from his face. âThen, sheâs all yours. Just be patient.â
Azriel scoffs. âIâll be so patient.â
But as they both join you and Helion for dinner, something tells Rhysand that this is going to be a long week.
**
Helion had hosted an extravagant feast for you all last night, even bringing out his finest, aged whiskey to celebrate. He had toasted it to Azriel, the surprise guest, with a cheeky wink. When his flirtatious efforts went ignored, Helion had turned his affections toward you. A notion that left Azriel seething and Rhysand on guard.
After dinner, Helion had given you a brief tour of the palace and introduced you to the fae you encountered along the way. To Azrielâs relief, the room heâd be staying in was right across from yours. His shadows had eagerly scouted the halls and both your rooms, becoming attuned to every creak and sound as an extra measure of safety. They fell asleep before he did and were the ones to wake him up when they heard you shuffling around your room.
As Azriel laces his leathers, the dark tendrils rush toward his door, peeking out underneath. It seems they are just as eager as he is to see you.
âGood morning!â You chirp happily, practically buzzing with excitement as you greet him at his door. âDid you sleep well?â
âYes.â A lie. Your joy is so contagious itâs easy to mask his exhaustion, his smile matching yours. âDid you?âÂ
He had, in fact, not slept well.
How could he when his anxiety began to gnaw at him? Because what if you grew tired of waiting for him within these seven days and gave into Helionâs charm? Each time he closed his eyes, his mind flashed with images of you reciprocating Helionâs advances, and sneaking off into his chambers in the middle of the night...
You give a noncommittal hum in response, pulling him out of his inner turmoil and bring him back to you.
 âIâm really glad youâre here, Az.â
Azrielâs shadows mirror your enthusiasm. A faint blush takes over his cheeks as you grasp his hand to tug him along with you. âRhys has private business to attend to with Helion and I did not want to do this alone,â you say, waving your bucket list in the air with your free hand.
Of course, you had a list of things youâd like to do in Day. It instilled another fear into Azriel because what if you fell in love with Day and refused to go back to Night? He eyes all the bullet points on that list of yours and refuses to let himself make that fear come true.
Anything you loved here, he would make sure to remind you that the Night Court could do better.
âAnd who better to spend the day with than my loyal shadowsinger, right?â You remark with a playful glint in your eye.
âRight,â Azriel replies and thereâs a brightness in his heart at your words. My loyal shadowsinger. His shadows dance in agreement.
But there is one thing the Night Court canât replicate, a truth he reluctantly acknowledges as you both step outside into the warmth of the sun.Â
A radiant smile breaks out on your face as you bask in the bright sunlight. Its golden glow kisses your skin, highlighting every feature he adores.
His leathers are not meant for this type of weather. He can feel himself growing hot, his shadows already endlessly working to keep him cool. Though you were dressed in something lighter than him, a pale blue dress, some of them flit toward you to do the same.
Azriel allows you to pull him along, savoring the feel of your hand in his. The cobblestone streets of the Day Courtâs market are narrow, flanked by vibrant stalls and lively vendors. He tucks his wings tightly against his back to avoid brushing against the bustling crowd. His grip on your hand is firm. He tells himself itâs to ensure he doesnât lose you amidst the sea of fae, but deep down, he has no intention of ever letting go.
Your first stop is a quaint little shop that, according to your research, sells the best espresso in Prythian. Azriel prefers his coffee black but you convince him to try Dayâs specialty, a honey lavender latte.Â
You watch him, awaiting his response.
âI hate it,â he tells you, though itâs surprisingly good. Really good. âVelaris has better coffee.â
You take your drink back with a shrug as you head to your next stop. The flower market. As you stroll through the market stalls, you point out a cluster of flowers, your voice tinged with excitement as you describe their origins and meanings. Youâre like a living encyclopedia and Azriel has always admired this about you. He asks you more questions, even if he already has the answers. Just so that he can see the light in your eyes dance with every word you speak.
A beautiful pink blossom catches his eyes as heâs read about it before, already familiar with its meaning. An idea sparks into his mind. Maybe, if he starts dropping hints, itâd make his impending confession go smoother. He tugs on your hand gently. âAnd this one?â
âItâs a pink camelia. A symbol of love, adoration and longing.â
He tosses a coin to the merchant and then picks the prettiest pink camelia among the bunch. He tucks it behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. The shadows that cling to him, hiding from the sun, peek out from above his shoulders, stirring in anticipation as you look up at Azriel and smile.
ây/n, Iââ
His words hang in the air, the tendrils too distracted by you to notice the merchant approaching. Suddenly, a hand appears between you both, golden bracelets dangling before your eyes. âA pretty bracelet for the pretty lady?â the fae male asks. âTheyâre one of a kind!â
Your eyes widen as you take in the shimmering jewelry. âHow much?â
âTen coins,â the merchant replies, but as his eyes roam over you, he adds, âBut for you, five.â
âOkay,â you agree, not having the heart to say no.
You reach for one of the gold bracelets, its chain holding a gleaming sun made of amber in the center. Before you can even open your coin purse, Azriel shoves ten coins into the merchantâs awaiting hand, his glare sending the man skittering away.
âThank you,â you say to Azriel, struggling to clasp the bracelet around your wrist. Azriel gestures for you to let him help, and you do, watching the subtle furrow of his brow as he fastens the hook. âBut why did you give him ten coins? He said fiveâŚâ
âI didnât,â Azriel lies smoothly for the second time this morning, and when your eyes narrow in suspicion, he simply smiles and tilts his head toward the right. âShouldnât we be heading to the art gallery if we want to make it to the water fountain show in time?â
That gets you going.
Your hold on his hand tightens as you lead the way to the art gallery. There, youâre captivated by the various amounts of artwork from Day, one of them being a very detailed and very naked sculpture of Helion. Azriel canât help but remind you of the beauty of the Rainbow of Velaris, tugging you along, using the water fountain show as an excuse to get you to leave quicker.Â
Afterwards, you visit a bookstore and many other stores, discovering that the bracelet on your wrist was not one-of-a-kind. They are available in various stores, each offering different variations. Instead of feeling disappointed, you find one specially for Azriel. Its chain is silver, adorned with a glimmering moon made from moonstone, a perfect complement to your amber sun.
By the time you both return to the palace, the sky is painted with hues of twilight, signaling itâs almost dinner time.Â
âThank you for helping me carry all my stuff,â you say with a sheepish grin, glancing at the bags scattered on your floor, most of them filled with gifts for the rest of the inner circle members since they couldnât come along.
âOf course,â Azriel replies with a soft smile, his eyes warm. He had refused to let you lift a finger.
Standing on your tip-toes, you aim to kiss his cheek but underestimate the height difference, your lips landing on his jaw instead. The touch has the same effect. Azriel blushes, his wings twitching slightly, and his shadows snicker behind him. He hopes you can't hear them.
âAre you sureââ he clears his throat ââare you sure you donât need help packing them up too?â
Your eyes light up and then youâre pulling him into your room. Unfortunately, no more kisses came from that. However, the shared smiles and easy conversation made it all worth it.
Be patient, he reminds himself. But he can't help but think of the golden threads unraveling in his chest, giving them an experimental tug. Thereâs no response, yet he hopes that yours will entwine with his any day now, binding you together forever.
**
As the golden, morning light of the Day Court bathes the grand hall, Azriel waits for you to enter the place where you'd have breakfast together. When he hears your approaching footsteps, he turns.
Suddenly, he finds himself unable to think. Unable to breathe, even. Â
 You were beautiful. He was well aware of this, always has been. But today, you were absolutely stunning, like a goddess descended from the heavens.Â
The dress you wore was different from your usual Night court dresses and though it screamed Day court fashion, Azriel couldnât bring himself to care. The delicate ivory, flowing fabric draped elegantly over your body. His eyes trace every detail of the dress, from the plunging neckline to the high slits that reveal the soft and inviting skin of your legs. Thereâs a tightness in his throat when he catches a glimpse of the gold garter adorning your thigh.
âGood morning,â you greet him with a smile, a hint of shyness in your eyes despite the boldness of the dress.
"Morning," he barely manages to say.
âGood morning indeed,â Helion purrs as he appears behind you, Rhysand at his side.
Azriel, captivated by your beauty, barely registered the expression on Helion's face. Meanwhile, his shadows moved with a protective instinct, delicately brushing against your legs as if to shield you from Helion's lingering gaze.Â
As you approach him, Azriel's heart continues to hammer against his chest. He musters up a smile. Though small, itâs full of admiration and awe.Â
Helion chuckles. âMy oh my, Rhysand. I did not know your Shadowsinger was capable of smiling.â
Rhysand lets out an amused exhale. His tone is light but it carries a subtle warning. âHeâs capable of many things, including patience.â
A muscle feathers in Azrielâs jaw as he falls into step with you. He doesnât notice the small frown that takes over your features. âAre you okay?â
âIâm fine,â he says, voice sweet despite the slightly sour expression on his face.
You shake your head in protest. âYou look all hot and bothered.â
Azriel chokes on his spit. âExcuse me?â
âYouâre already sweating,â you explain to him, reaching up with your free hand to brush his dark curls away from his forehead. His wings flutter in response to the surprise touch. âAnd itâs barely morning. Come on, youâre not wearing those leathers today. Iâm sure Helion left some clothes for you too.â
Azriel heats up at the mention of Helionâs name, his mind briefly flickering to the thought of the High Lord leaving such a dress for you. He doesnât have much time to dwell on it further as you tug him back toward the room heâs staying in, mumbling about how Azriel has a death wish for wearing such thick clothing in the Day Court.
But itâs the High Lord of the Day Court who has a death wish, Azriel thinks.
âWe wonât be long!â You call over your shoulder to Rhysand and Helion, who both give a dismissive wave.
Helion shakes his head in amusement. âAre they always like this?â
Rhysand lets out a snort. âUnfortunately.â
âCome. Let us have a drink. I believe weâre in very much need of one.â
âThis early in the morning?â
âMy friend, have you not had orange juice and champagne? Such a lovely, delightful combination. I call it a mimosaâŚâ
**
Back in Azriel's room, you rummage through the clothes Helion had left for him. His eyes soften as you continue to fuss over him. Though he complains about it, he secretly loves when you fuss over him. He has to peel his gaze away from you when you bend down to pick up a top, his thoughts threatening to drift elsewhere if he doesn't.
Hot. Bothered. His shadows repeat your words from earlier to him and he eyes them with a glare.
Despite Helionâs wish for Azriel to wear a toga like he proudly does, Azriel is relieved at what you picked out for him. Heâs also touched that you know him well enough to pick something close to his taste. âHere,â you say, holding up a pair of loose fitting dark trousers and a sheen, flowy white top with a deep v neck similar to the one of your dress. âThis will be perfect for today.â
âFine,â Azriel murmurs, reluctantly taking the garments from you. Your fingers brush against his, sending a spark through him.
âI trust you can dress yourself from here,â you tease, giving him a playful pat on his shoulder.
Azriel lets out a scoff, resisting the urge to reply with a roguish remark. He quickly changes into the clothes you picked out for him, not wanting to cut into your breakfast time any more than necessary. Today is a busy day for you, as you will spend most of it in the library, researching all about the death gods for an assignment Rhysand gave you.
When he steps out of the room, your eyes light up as they look over his body. His muscles flex instinctively when your gaze lingers on the tattoos swirling on his chest. You blink, and with a smile say, âRadiant.â
Azriel feels the blood rush to his neck. Heâs received many compliments before but never something as bright as âradiant.â He suddenly yearns to hear moreâonly if they come from your pretty lips.
âY/n, have I ever told you how much Iââ Your eyebrows raise in curiosity, and he loses his resolve, Rhysandâs warning echoing in his head. ââappreciate youâŚâ
Those were not the words Azriel had intended, and he lets out a defeated breath. Yet, your smile does not falter. Instead, you hook your arm through his, beaming up at him as you guide him through the halls.
âI believe you have but please, enlighten me againâŚâ
**
Helionâs gaze fixes on you and Azriel as you finally joined them for breakfast. Dressed in resplendent Day Court fashion, the two of you look ravishing, and Helion cannot decide who is more captivatingâyou or the stoic shadowsinger at your side.Â
His affections have always met a brick wall with the Illyrian male. So naturally, when another pretty face shows up at his court, he focuses all his attention on you. He savors your sweet reactions and Azrielâs jealous ones, sensing more between you two. Heâs determined to unravel it.
After breakfast, Helion sidles up beside you, flashing a charming smile. âAllow me to admire you more closely, Lady Y/n,â he says, his voice smooth and rich as he extends his hand.
Azrielâs jaw clenches, his shadows swirling restlessly when you take Helionâs hand. Helionâs smile widens, and then he gestures for you to spin. âShall I compare thee to a summerâs day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.â
You gasp, eyes widening in delight and cheeks tinting with a delicate blush. âYou know Shakespeare?â
âKnow it? I live it.â Helion responds. âI have his original copies in my personal library. You can come take a look, if youâd like. Just give me a day toâŚorganize things.â
Azrielâs eyes narrow, not liking the intonation in the High Lordâs voice. Helion can feel that primal instinctâthe possessiveness Azriel feels for youâsimmering beneath the surface. His eyes widen slightly in acknowledgement and then heâs turning to Rhysand.
"Helion,â Rhysand drawls, confirming his suspicions. âAs y/nâs escort, you're making Azriel's shadows rather restless.â
Helion laughs, a rich, melodious sound that fills the room. "I can't help it if your historian is so captivating, Rhysand," he says, winking at you and delighting in the response it shakes from Azriel.
**
Azriel falls into step behind you as Helion guides you all toward the magnificent library of the Day Court. Sunlight streams through towering windows, casting rainbows across the marble floors. You had praised it as the biggest and most beautiful library in all of Prythian. As Azriel stands in front of the entrance, he reluctantly acknowledges that none of the libraries in the Night Court could come close if this is just how the entrance looks.
As Azriel moves to step inside with you, Rhysand stops him.
"What are you doing?" Azriel huffs, peering over Rhysand's shoulder to catch a glimpse of the awed expression on your face as Helion talks to you. "I'm Y/n's escort, remember?"
âThereâs no need for one in the library. Youâll only be a distraction here.â Rhysand replies and sensing his apprehension, he adds. âSheâll be safe here. I promise.â
âButââ
âNo,â Rhysand interrupts and Azrielâs gaze hardens. A playful glint dances in Rhysandâs violet eyes. âGo take a walk, a cold shower or perhaps, read up on some poetry.â
 With that, Rhysand enters the library, motioning for the guards to shut the door. As the door closes, a single dark tendril manages to slide through.Â
I donât resort to poetry, Azriel thinks bitterly and he swears he hears Rhysandâs chuckle in his mind.
**
That night, during dinner, Helion took all your attention as the two of you quoted and mused over poetry, Rhysand chiming in occasionally. Azriel remained silent, a muscle ticking at his jaw.
The following morning, Azriel didnât get a chance to speak to you much either. You and Rhysand were deep in discussion, strategizing how to tackle the vast array of books about the old gods. Azriel hadnât even finished his coffee when you abruptly stood from your seat, mouth still full of food, and hurried off towards the library. The golden threads buried deep in his chest stirred with your passion.
So while you spent your day in the library, engrossed in your research, Azriel decided to spend his day doing his own research. He had his shadows sneak into your room and retrieve one of the poetry books he is certain you bought with you. You read one every night before bed.
Azriel reads some of the poems, engraving the words into his memory, just in case. He ends up falling asleep in his room, the lack of sleep finally catching up to him. His shadows stir him awake, hours later, pointing to the clock hanging across from him. Itâs almost dinner time so Azriel freshens up and then makes his way toward the library.Â
âHey, you,â you greet Azriel happily, two of his shadows trailing behind you, as you step out of the library. The second one had joined you this morning as the first one had been feeling lonely. âI think they like me better than you.â
âKeep them,â Azriel shrugs. When you're not looking, he gives them a knowing nod, though his voice feigns annoyance. âTraitors.â
âWhat did you do today?â You ask, falling into step beside him as you two walk toward the dining hall. âAnything interesting?â
âI learned something.â
âYeah?â
Azriel turns to you, his expression serious as he clears his throat. "She walks in beauty, like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all thatâs best of dark and bright... uh, meet in her somethingâŚeyesâŚ?"
You blink at him, confusion furrowing your brow. "Something eyes?"
Before Azriel can explain, Helion chimes in, that cheeky grin plastered on his face. "It's 'Meet in her aspect and her eyes,â" he corrects smoothly, his eyes twinkling with amusement, as he beckons for you to take your seats.
Azriel shoots a glare at Helion and Rhysand kicks him under the table in warning. Helion chuckles, unfazed by the death stare coming from Azriel as he continues.Â
âShe walks in beauty, like the night. Of Cloudless climes and starry skies; And all thatâs best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light, which heaven to gaudy day denies.â
âOh, Lord Byron!â you say in recognition, turning to Azriel with a look that soothes his embarrassment. âShe Walks in Beauty. What a lovely poem. Did you know it was one of my favorites?â
âI didnât,â Azriel replies casually, though inwardly his heart races and his shadows race to cover the blush delicately tinting his neck. Of course he knew it was your favorite. You had scribbled hearts all over the page in your book. âI just liked it and thought Iâd share it with you.â
Your smile widens, touched by his gesture. âI thought you didnât fancy poetry, Az.â
âI thought the same,â Rhysand says, eyes narrowing at Azriel.
"I'm full of surprises," Azriel says dryly, meeting Rhysand's gaze evenly.
âWell, letâs hope itâs the last of your surprises.â
âI believe I also have some of Lord Byronâs works. How about I finally show you my personal library after dinner?â Helion speaks, directing all attention back to him.
Azriel opens his mouth to protest, not liking the inviting gaze in the High Lordâs eyes, but Helion interjects smoothly. âNo worries, escort, â Helion says, his grin widening. âIâll take good care of y/n.â
Azriel sulks, a bitter taste in his mouth from Helionâs effortless charm throughout dinner. He tries his best to keep you from leaving, insisting you try every single dessert laid out on the table. Barely halfway through, you slump back in your chair, claiming you canât eat another bite without bursting.
His ears perk up and he sends a small prayer to the Mother that your full stomach dissuades you from visiting Helionâs personal library, his own stomach not being able to handle the thought. Tonight, it seems The Mother does not favor him. When Helion offers you his arm, you take it excitedly, oblivious to the sulking Shadowsinger you left behind.Â
Rhysand laughs, finding amusement in the entire situation, while Azriel shoots him a cold stare. If Rhysand hadnât ordered Azriel to keep the truth of the bond from you until after your trip here, you wouldn't be alone with Helion now.Â
Yet, Azriel can't help but bitterly reflect that if he had only been upfront about his feelings from the start, he wouldnât be tormented by such longing now, the bond in his chest roaring at the thought of you with another male.
âI think y/n is more than capable of handling a flirtatious High Lord.â
Azrielâs lips twitch into a brief, reluctant smile. âShe is. But that doesnât mean I have to like it.â
âCheer up, Az,â Rhysand teases, lifting his glass in a mock-toast to his friend. âThereâs always more poetry to practice. Or perhaps, you should stick to brooding. Youâre much better at that.â
âPass the whiskey,â Azriel replies tersely, his lips pressing into a tight line.
âPatience is a virtue, Az.â
âSo is silence.â
**
Youâre swooning, over the moon, after exploring Helionâs personal library. He showed you his special editions of Lord Byronâs and Shakespeareâs works, allowing you to take one back to your room with you to read. You clutch the book to your chest, humming softly to yourself.
When you reach the hallway, you linger there for a moment, sparing a glance toward Azrielâs room. The night is still young and youâre surprised to see no light seeping through the door. Has he gone to bed already? Worry knits your brows as you wonder if heâs okay. He has been acting strange since he arrived. He had quoted poetry at you for Cauldronâs sake!
You walk toward his door and knock. Thereâs no answer so you knock again. âAz?â
You frown when youâre met with silence and your hands itch to open the door but you hesitate. He could either be asleep, out flying or out training. He had been eyeing the training grounds of Day during Helionâs tour.
With a sigh, you step into your room and decide to get ready for bed, making a mental note to check up on him in the morning. The day had been long and filled with unexpected twists and tomorrow would only bring another long day. Your eyes were tired from reading so much fine print.
As you're fluffing your pillows, you hear the sound of heavy, booted footsteps. Your mind wanders to Azriel but it canât be. His steps were always quiet, silenced by his shadows. Thereâs a pause in the steps and a brief moment of stillness.
Abruptly, your door swings open and you let out a small gasp.
You watch as Azriel stumbles in, your heart flying to your chest in relief. His usually graceful steps falter as if the weight of his massive wings is too much to bear. Shadows cling to his wrists, doing their best to keep their master steady.
A look of pleasant surprise softens his features when he spots you, his hazel eyes widening at the sight of you in your nightgown. He brings a hand up to his neck, rubbing it in an attempt to make the flush spreading across his cheeks go away.
âY/n,â he hiccups with a pleased grin. âYouâre here.â
âOf course I am,â you reply, stifling a laugh at his adorable state. âThis is my room.â
Azrielâs expression morphs, his eyebrows furrowing and a slight pout forming on his lips. âDidnât get to spend the day with you,â he mutters, his voice tinged with frustration as he sways slightly. âOr night⌠you spent it with Helion instead.â
You canât help but giggle. âAre you jealous, Az?â
Another hiccup. âMaybe.â
Your stomach flutters at the way he admits it so openly. The two of you have always had a playful, flirty dynamic. It had never gone beyond exchanged glances and lingering touches, though. Azriel never let it, and a part of you feared it was because he was too kind to reject you outright. Now, you begin to wonder if you had misinterpreted the situation all along.
âWell, itâs still night,â you tell him, âAnd youâre here with me now.â
âI am,â Azriel acknowledges with a hint of surprise, as if realizing it anew. âAnd I know poetry tooâŚâ
 He straightens up, attempting to appear serious again despite the slight slur in his words. "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height... uh, something about sight, I think?â
Did he somehow know this was another of your favorites? It seems unlikely. In all the years you've known him, Azriel has never shown interest in poetry. Or at least up until two hours ago. You should check his forehead. What if he was coming down with something?
Instead, you clear your throat and help him out.
âHow do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height. My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight. For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love theeââ your voice wavers at the look Azriel gives you, his hazel eyes shining with an emotion that threatens to weaken your knees. ââto the level of every dayâs. Most quiet need, by sun and candle lightâŚâ
âI love thee too,â Azriel breathes, holding your gaze and stepping closer to you. âFreelyâpurelyâŚno, freely as men strive for fight.â
âRight,â you correct with a laugh. âFreely as men strive for right.â
Azrielâs pout deepens, yet thereâs a hint of a smile on his lips. âDonât laugh at me,â he mumbles.
He continues to make his way toward you and you hold out your arms, worried heâll lose his battle with balance. He ends up slumping face-first onto your bed, his wings splaying out behind him. âCan I stay here? Just for a little bit. I missed you all day.â
âYeah,â you reply with a soft smile. You missed him too. âBut can you make room for me on my bed?â
âMmm,â Azriel hums, turning on his side. He pats at the space right in front of him, his shadows moving to rest behind him to give you space. âCome here, my pretty historian.â
You feel a rush of warmth course through you, momentarily flustered by the nickname. Looking at Azriel, you hesitate. It wouldnât be the first time you two shared a bed but itâd be the first time youâd share one in a bed not meant to accommodate for Illyrian wings.Â
Maybe, itâs best if you help him to his room. Your eyes look toward his shadows and you notice them slowly curling around his back as if going to sleep themselves. They would be no help and neither would Rhys as you were sure he was sharing his night with a pretty fae or two. And you would definitely not be able to carry Azriel back to his room on your own.
So when Azriel pats the bed again, you join him. He frowns when you donât nestle against him as he wished. Instead, you slip under the covers, resting on your side to face him fully. He adjusts to mirror your position, close enough that you feel his warm breath, noses and hands brushing against each other.
âYou smell good,â he says, eyes half-lidded. âMarry me?â
You smile, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his face. âIs that all it takes to marry you? To smell good?â
Azrielâs eyes flutter close, a contented sigh escaping him. âIâd marry you, even if you didnât smell good,â he says, his words mumbled but filled with affection.
Your heart swells and you lean in to place a gentle kiss on his forehead, feeling exhaustion come over you when Azriel yawns.Â
âGoodnight, Az.â
âGoodnight, Y/n,â he murmurs, already drifting off to sleep, a peaceful smile on his face. âMy sweet, pretty maââ
A shadow, one of the ones that have taken a liking to you, crawls over you and rushes to Azriel, curling around his mouth to silence him. You are too tired to think about it, simply letting sleep claim you in each otherâs comforting presence.
**
Azriel wakes up with a soft groan, still enveloped by your scent. His shadows stir as he does and he hesitates opening his eyes, not ready to face the aftermath of his drunken state. The impending headache is already breaking the surface. When he opens his eyes, he finds you missing. His worry is eased when one of his shadows brings a small piece of paper to him.
He shifts, moving into a sitting position. One hand rubs at his head while the other takes the note you left for him.Â
To my star breaking poet, you looked too peaceful to wake. I left some water, tea and bread on the nightstand. Enjoy.
-your pretty historian
His lips tug up into a smile. He turns his head, finding the drinks and food you left for him. He doesnât dare touch them though, despite the bond in his chest yearning for him to. He then searches for the clock in your room and his eyes widen. Itâs past noon. Azriel has never slept this late or felt so rested, especially after a night of heavy drinking.Â
Taking a deep breath, he allows himself to fall back onto the bed, running his hands through his hair and pulling on it. He lingers there a moment longer before finally rising and heading to his room to bathe and get ready for the day. Knowing you'll be in the library all day, he wonders what to do with himself, having given up on poetry after his unsuccessful attempts.
**
Azriel makes himself busy by wandering the palace, feeling a bit uneasy walking so freely in the open. Heâs so accustomed to blending into the shadows that this exposure feels unnatural. His shadows cling to him, hiding beneath his cloak, equally uncomfortable with the brightness. The day is cooler, so heâs donned his leathers, a small part of him hoping you'll fuss over him again when you see him.
He visits the markets, but they seem less vibrant without you by his side. He then goes to the training grounds of Day, catching up with his missed training and releasing his pent up frustrations with a training dummy. Upon returning to the palace and washing up, he heads towards the library. Though he canât enter, he knows there are small tables and padded chairs just outside. He found you there during one of your breaks yesterday, so he sits at one of the tables, hoping you'll come again.
A newspaper rests on the table before him, so he picks it up to pass the time. After reading through it twice, he moves to a different table with a chess set, his shadows engaging him in a game. After losing to them three times, he leans back with a sigh. He really shouldâve brought some of his unfinished reports to work on.
Overcome with the bond, he had followed you without hesitation, not anticipating that Rhysand would keep him from telling you about it. He didn't have a plan, so while he wasn't happy about it, at least it gave him time to come up with one. The minute youâd go back to Night, Azriel was set on visiting your favorite restaurant and making reservations. Heâd surprise you with a day full of your favorites, ending it with his confession, where he hoped you would accept him.Â
It was one thing to love him back. Another to accept him as your mate.
Before he knows it, the sun begins to set, his shadows buzzing with life as darkness takes over. You still havenât stepped out of the library. He wonders if you've eaten or had enough water. One of his shadows slips out from underneath the library doors and flutters back to him. It reports that the other shadow, still with you, helped you reach for books and turn pages. It had even wanted to brush your hair back when it fell loose from your tie but was met with an invisible force. High Lord, the shadow hissed and he realizes Rhysand knew him better than he thought. That unwanted chaperoneâŚ
When he learns you've skipped lunch, his worry deepens. He paces back and forth in front of the grand doors, his heart aching with the intensity of the bond. Every instinct within him urges him to protect and care for you. Unable to hold back any longer, he takes advantage of the darkening sky and slips into the library.
The shadow that had reported to him leads the way, darting ahead. His other shadows eagerly rush forward, reaching you before he does. They greet the lone shadow that had stayed by your side like long-lost friends reuniting.
Azrielâs heart calms when he finds you asleep, slumped over a desk and surrounded by a mountain of books. You're curled into yourself, goosebumps forming on the exposed skin of your arms. He gently removes his cloak from his leathers and drapes it over you.
You instinctively snuggle deeper into the cloak, half asleep. âSmells sâgood,â you murmur, and the bond in his chest tightens.
He gently removes your glasses, the ones you wear when doing prolonged near work, and places them carefully into one of his pockets. Thereâs a faint glimmer surrounding you and heâs relieved that whatever barrier Rhyand had placed upon you was weakening by the second. Almost like clockwork. He easily breaks through the magic shield, blue siphons gleaming. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his shadows sighing in response.
His touch lingers on your face, thumb ghosting over your cheek. âItâs time for dinner.â
You let out a groan in protest, not wanting to move from your spot.
âYou need to eat, Y/n,â he whispers softly. âAnd then, you can go to bed.â
You blink sleepily at him. âWill you carry me?â
âOf course.â
As he lifts you into his arms, your warmth and the scent of your hair envelop him. The bond in his chest thrums with joy, his shadows harmonizing in response.
Three more days, he reminds himself. Three more days until he can finally speak of the feelings swelling in his heart. Be patientâŚ
**
After another day of researching death gods, your mind feels heavy with overwhelming knowledge. Exhausted, you keep to yourself during dinner. You can feel Azrielâs worry, can feel the way the shadows that linger in your presence caress the back of your neck in an attempt to ease you. Rhysand slips into your mind and after assuring him you were just tired and had a headache, he lets you excuse yourself. Helion, ever the caring and doting High Lord, sends you off to bed with a tea to soothe your headache.
Youâre quick to wash up and change into your nightgown, slipping under the warm covers with the tea Helion gave you in hand. It has a rich floral scent and as you take your first sip, it brings instant relief to the dull ache in your head. When youâre done, you place the empty cup onto your nightstand and lay down, closing your eyes.
You find yourself trapped in a dark, oppressive forest.Â
The trees are twisted and gnarled, their branches reaching out like skeletal hands. In the distance, you hear the sinister laugh of Koschei, the death god who you've learned loves to trap women. His voice is a chilling whisper, echoing through the trees, âYou cannot escape me.â
Suddenly, the scene shifts, and youâre back in the Court of Nightmares, having to suffer through another court affair. Your hair is pulled so tight into a bun and the corset of your dress barely gives any room to breathe properly. The oppressive atmosphere presses down on you, taking even more of your breath away. Youâre standing before your father, his eyes cold and unyielding.
âYou will marry Lord Berbrooke.â
âNo,â you whisper, eyes widening in fear as Lord Berbrooke appears at your fatherâs side. Your hands reach for your fatherâs arms, a desperate attempt to stay with him instead of leaving. Youâd much rather continue to endure a life of neglect and solitude than a life that promised violence and bruises.
âGrandfather wouldnât want this.â
Your father yanks his arm out of your grip, staring you down with a glare. âYour grandfather is dead. It does not matter what he wants.â
Fear grips you as Lord Berbrooke steps closer, a predatory smile on his face. You try to run, but your feet are rooted to the spot. He laughs, the sound chilling you to the bone. It morphs into the sinister laugh from earlier. Lord Berbrookeâs face flickers and shifts, morphing between his own and what your mind imagines of Koschei.
Panic surges through you, and you cry out for help, but your voice is swallowed by the darkness.
You wake up in a cold sweat, heart racing and breaths coming in ragged gasps. Goosebumps prick your skin as the sinister laugh echoes in your mind, refusing to fade. Panic grips you, and without a second thought, you throw off the covers and rush out of your room, desperate to escape the haunting sound that seems to follow you.
**
Something deep in his chest stirs, flooding him with unease. The bond. Something is wrong. Azrielâs head instinctively turns to his door, shadows sensing your presence in the hallway. Though small and quiet, he can hear your pacing and sense your hesitation as you face his door.
Azriel rushes to the door immediately and opens it. Concern etches on his face as he takes in your trembling form, the way your hands are covering your ears and eyes stricken with pure fear.
His hands reach for yours, gently removing them from your ears. Your eyes remain frantic, scanning over him, as if trying to discern if he is real or not. Without another word, Azriel pulls you into his arms, the familiar warmth and scent of him grounding you.
âItâs okay, Iâm here,â he murmurs. His hands rub soothing circles on your back, and you cling to him.
âI had a nightmare,â you whisper, pulling back slightly and looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. âAbout Koschei, and then I was back in the Court of Nightmares. My father⌠Lord BerbrookeâŚâ
Azrielâs eyes darken with anger and protectiveness. You donât need to say any more for him to understand. âYouâre safe now,â he says firmly. âI wonât let anything happen to you.â
His words and the strength of his embrace begin to calm the storm inside you. You bury your face in his chest, taking in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. âCan I stay with you?â
âAlways.â Azriel answers and then heâs guiding you into his room.
He helps you to his bed, tucking you under the covers before carefully settling on the other side. You nestle closer into his chest, your head finding its place against his heart again. His chin rests atop your head and neither of you speak for a while.
âThank you,â you breathe, voice heavy with emotion.
Azriel knows your thankfulness extends beyond tonight. He had been the one to save you from that dreadful fate that night in the Court of Nightmares. He had been the one to bring to Rhysandâs attention of your grandfatherâs forged will, helping you search for the real one. And when Rhysand had moved you to Velaris, Azriel had been your first friend.
âDo you feel better or would you like me to make youââ
âI feel better,â you interrupt, not wanting him to leave, even if it's to make you another tea. âJust your presence is enough,â you confess quietly. âYou have a way of making me feel safe and at peace, Az.â
At those words, Azriel feels like he might burst with emotion. He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. If only you knewâŚ
**
As you walk through the library of the Day Court, you take one last look around, letting your gaze sweep over the grand space. The high, arched windows allow streams of the setting sun to filter in, casting a warm glow on the polished marble floors. There are rows upon rows of polished wooden shelves and books of every size and color line them, their spines creating a mosaic of knowledge and history. The scent of parchment and old leather, is one youâll always hold dear.
Tonight is your last night here. A trail of shadows follows you, blending into the shafts of the light and shadows cast by the towering bookshelves. Rhysand, lounging in the entrance of the library, notices the once unusual sight that has now become routine..Â
âWhat are you, a Shadowsinger now?â he quips.
You glance back, catching a glimpse of Azrielâs shadows entwined with your own. Theyâve become increasingly protective of you lately, always trailing close, whether you're heading to the library or simply going about your day. What you hadnât noticed until now was how their numbers had grown since last night.
âIâve never seen his shadows act like that,â Rhysand comments.
âOh really?âÂ
Rhysand nods, a glint dancing in his eyes. He gives a small wave to one of the tendrils peeking over your shoulder, lips curving upwards when it cowers away. âThey usually stick to him, rarely leaving his side. It seems youâve captured their interest as youâve captured their masterâs.â
You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at his implication. âI guess they like me,â you say, trying to sound nonchalant.
Rhysandâs grin turns knowing. âItâs more than that, Y/n. Azrielâs shadows are an extension of his will. Theyâre drawn to what he cares about most.â
Your heart skips a beat at his words. âI suppose I should thank them for showing me such care.â
Rhysand chuckles. âOr thank Azriel.â
**
Rhysandâs words linger with you throughout the evening, much like Azrielâs shadows. A spark of hope blooms in your chest, daring to blossom into something more. You knew Azriel cared for you, but caring for others was in his nature. Thatâs who he wasâcaring and protective.
You glance at the shadows caressing your arms, a pensive frown tugging at your lips. In all the years youâve known him, you had never seen his shadows linger on Rhysand or Cassian. Or Mor, who you were so sure held the Shadowsingerâs affections.Â
You recall the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the rare smiles he reserved only for you, the protective glances he shot your way whenever danger was near. Your heart races as the pieces start to fit together, a mixture of shock and elation coursing through your veins. Dare you hope that the man you had loved in secret for so long might feel the same?
The idea seems almost too good to be true, and yetâŚhis shadows were here, with you, wrapped around your fingers. Quite literally.Â
You look down at the shadows twining with your fingers, a small, hopeful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. For the first time, you allow yourself to entertain the possibility.Â
With this newfound hope, you head toward the Day Courtâs kitchen.Â
After praising the chef one night, he invited you to his kitchen, offering to teach you how to prepare some of the Day Courtâs delicacies. Eager to express your gratitude to Azriel for always being there for you and to Helion for being a gracious host, you decide to finally take up on the chefâs offer. Perhaps, you can even sneak in some of Azrielâs favorites into tonightâs menu.
**
As it was the last night of your stay, Helion had invited close friends and other allies of his court, filling the grand dining hall with laughter and conversation. You quietly took your seat across from Rhysand and beside Azriel, murmuring a soft greeting. Helion winks at you and the shadow around your arm tenses.
The High Lord of Day stands from his seat, at the head of the table. He raises his glass with a broad grin. âA toast to the Night Court, our cherished guests. It has been an honor to host you all, and I sincerely hope we may have the pleasure of your return soon.â
Everyone at the table raises their glasses, including Azrielâthough only after a nudge from you. His expression remains flat and dry as he lifts his glass. You clink yours against his with a teasing glint in your eyes, coaxing a small smile from his lips.
Helion takes a seat and with a wave of his hand, tonightâs feast materializes in front of you. Thereâs a slight raise in Rhysandâs brow, betraying his mild surprise. Every single platterâfrom the appetizers to dessert seems to be a perfect blend of Day and Night delicacies with the names to match. Thereâs the bruschetta, the bread slices topped with sun-ripened tomatoes, fresh basil and a hint of night garlic. Then, thereâs the spinach artichoke dip made from sun-infused spinach, blended with moon-cheese and served with nightshade vegetables.
Rhysand looks up, turning to Helion. âCompliments to the chef.â
Helionâs eyes twinkle with delight as he meets your gaze. âAnd y/n,â he says. âShe collaborated with the chef to create tonightâs dinner.â
You smile, a touch of pride warming your cheeks as you look around the table. However, the smile quickly fades when you hear a sudden spluttering. Itâs Azriel. He spit his food out, his face a mask of horror and conflict.Â
âAzriel?â you ask in concern.
He stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. âIâm not hungry,â he mutters, his voice suddenly tight.
Your face flushes and a nervous laugh escapes you. âRelax, itâs not poison,â you joke, trying to lighten the mood. But your attempt falls flat.Â
âIâm not hungry,â he repeats more forcefully, then turns and leaves the room, his movements stiff and tense.
Your eyes begin to sting with unshed tears, the hurt and confusion overwhelming you. You slump back into your chair. âI donât think Iâm hungry either,â you whisper, the words barely audible.
Rhysand nudges your foot from under the table. âDonât mind him,â he says softly, violet eyes filled with sympathy. âPlease, eat. Youâve worked so hard on this.â
You nod, trying to muster the strength to lift your fork, but the sting of Azrielâs rejection is too much. You push the food around your plate, your appetite completely gone. The evening that had started with such promise now feels like a distant memory, overshadowed by whatever tension has now befallen between you and Azriel.Â
In the corridor outside the dining hall, Azriel leans against the wall, his heart pounding. He knows heâs hurt you, but the thought of unintentionally accepting the bond is too much for him to bear. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The guilt gnaws at him, a constant reminder of the fragile line heâs been walking.
One more night, he reminds himself. One more night and then he can tell you everything.
He can only hope you donât already hate him for tonight.
**
Tossing and turning, you let out a long breath as you stare up at the ceiling. Your stomach grumbles, reminding you that you hadnât indulged in the dinner you had put so much effort into crafting. How could you, when the one person you made it for refused to have even a bite?Â
His reaction had been as clear as day. Repulsed.
Now, doubts flood your mind. What if you've completely misread everything? The shadows beside you, initially a source of comfort, were beginning to stir unsettling thoughts in you. Maybe Azriel sent them not because he cared so deeply for you but out of obligation and pity?
You're not a High Lord like Rhysand, nor a warrior like Cassian or Mor who fought in the war. Youâre just a noblewoman from the Court of Nightmares who fled from a forced marriage. How typical and utterly helpless. Thatâs what youâve been since you met Azriel. It shouldnât have shocked you that he followed you into Day Court.Â
Any hope that had blossomed in your heart now withers. You were a fool to even entertain the thought. Youâve known Azriel for almost a century and in those years, heâs never hinted at seeing you as anything more than a friend so why would it change now?
Throwing off the covers, you sit up abruptly, gaze flickering towards the door. The urge to confront him grips you fiercely. He did not have to return your feelings but he didnât have to hurt your feelings so harshly by spitting out your food. You had to settle whatever this was now, even if it left you broken-hearted.Â
Without bothering to change out of your nightwear, you leap from your bed. The shadows on your bed stir awake and your footsteps quicken, fearing his shadows would reach him before you could.
They beat you to it, even going as far as opening the door for you, allowing you to barge into his room. Youâre not surprised to see Azriel wide awake. His shadows mustâve warned him beforehand. He sits on his bed, already facing you and you hate the way your gaze falls to his bare chest. Your eyes trail up the intricate tattoos etched there, slowly making your way up.
The words catch in your throat. Youâre nervous. A foreign feeling around Azriel. It makes you want nothing more than to turn and run out the door. His shadows shut the door behind you as if sensing your thoughts.
You refuse to meet his eyes, fearing what youâd find in those hazel depths. âYou hate me donât you?â
The words tumble out unexpectedly, sending a chilling shiver through you. His gaze flickers downward, catching the way you nervously fidget with your fingers, before lifting with intent and searching for your eyes.Â
âWhat?â
The sound that leaves Azriel borders on what sounds like amusement, and you cringe, turning your head away. Tears prick your eyes, his shadows rushing to wipe them away gently, coaxing your gaze back to their master. When his eyes meet yours, all you see is concern.Â
A strange sensation creeps along your ribcage as he stands from the bed, stepping closer to you.
âI donât hate you.â Azriel states firmly and when his words donât soothe you as he expected they would, he frowns. His hands replace the shadows brushing against your face. âWhat makes you think that? Whatâs wrong?â
âI should be asking you that question,â you laugh humorlessly, casting your gaze down. âSomething has gotten into you. Youâve been acting so differently, and at first, I thoughtâwell, it doesnât matter what I thought as I seem to be wrong every timeââ
âIt does matter. Tell me.âÂ
Itâs now or never. Your throat tightens as you muster the courageâthe last bit you have, having used most of it to barge into his room.Â
âWeâve been walking a fine line, you and I. For decades. Almost a century... And now, I realize youâve simply been too kind to reject me. Iâm sorry if running to you after that nightmare was too much, but did you have to spit out my food? I wouldâve preferred if youâd just told me you didn't like me instead of showing me.â
âYouâre not making any sense right now.â Azriel says.
âNeither are you.â You shoot back.
âI donât hate you,â Azriel repeats, hurt flashing across his face at the thought of making you feel that way.
âYou spit out my food in front of everyone, Az.â
âIâm sorry.â
âWhy?â
You feel Azrielâs hand tense against your face. âI canât say.â
Your breath hitches, and you take a couple of steps back, removing his hands from you. âBecause you hate me.â
Azrielâs eyes shut tightly for a moment, his head turning toward the window. He feels the faint warmth of the rising sun and inhales deeply. Thereâs something burning bright in his eyes when he looks at you again.
âBecause you are my mate.â
Mate.
A vulnerable shakiness accompanies the word. The words hang in the air, heavy and shocking. The feeling teasing at your ribcage begins to crawl upwards. Your heart skips a beat as it meets your chest, awakening something deep inside you that you hadnât realized you had.
Mate.
âIâm your what?â You gasp, your heart pounding in your chest as the golden threads of fate begin to unravel.
âYou feel it now, donât you?â Azriel approaches slowly, his expression tense and cautious. âYouâre my mate. The bond snapped as you were winnowing away. Thatâs why I followed after you. I wanted to tell you, but Rhysand asked me not to. At least not until we were done here.â
Your racing heart sinks into your stomach. More tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision. âSo you donât want me as your mate eitherâŚâ
âNo,â Azrielâs eyebrows knit together so hard you worry theyâll stick, shadows swirling around him like storm clouds. His hand reaches out for you but you take a step back. âIâm happy itâs you. Relieved. Iâve loved you for so long...â
Your tears fall freely and he takes another deep breath, wings shuddering along with the timber of his voice. âGods, do you know how agonizing these past days have been for me? Watching you fall in love with this court, withââ He hesitates, unable to say his name ââitâs High Lord.â
His words ignite a spark within you, fanning the hope that had begun to take root in your chest.
âIâd be lying if I said I didnât fall in love with this court," you begin and Azriel gives a subtle wince, looking away from you. "But Day is not my home."
Slowly, Azriel looks back at you, and a torrent of emotions floods over you. You're uncertain if they are yours or his, as the bond between you surges like a turbulent river.
âThe Night Court is. Thatâs where my family is. Thatâs where you are. I wouldnât trade that for anything. Not even Prythianâs best library.â
Azrielâs eyes soften and when he takes a step forward, you donât step back. A glimmer of hope lights up his features. âAnd what of itâs High Lord?â
âHeâs nice but heâs not you.â You say with a soft smile. âI love you and only you.â
Azriel cups your face in his hands, leaning his forehead against yours. The smile that breaks out on his rivals the brilliance of the rising run behind him. âIâve admired you, desired you for so longâŚI just didnât want to rush you and when the bond snapped, I feared itâd overwhelm you."
You look up at him, the raw honesty in his eyes reflecting your own emotions. âSo, what now?â
Azriel brushes the last tear from your cheek, his touch gentle and reverent. âBe mine?â
A shaky laugh escapes your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.
âAlways.â
And then you kiss him, the bond between you shimmering and glittering. A tangible, golden connection intensifying with every heartbeat.
a/n: I don't like the way I ended this đ not my best tbh, I just feel like it was missing something. I honestly wasn't expecting the high demand for a part two to Be Safe so I hope you enjoyed some of this as much as the first part. Anyway, here's a little meme I had made for this fic while I was procrastinating on finishing it.
here's a bonus scene.
tag list (tagged all those who commented and reblogged with tags, in case you wanted to read more. sorry if I missed some!): @jswizzlewrites , @hellodarling1357, @fxckmiup, @pricklepearbloom,
@tothestarsandwhateverend, @mika-no-sekai-blog, @cherryjain17, @illyrian-dreamer,
@darlingbravebelle, @katherinejess, @lady-of-tearshed, @daisesarelove, @beardburnsupersoldiers
@assriels, @sunshinepeachx, @buckyandgeraltsupremacy
@brieflyclassymortal, @thesunloveschips, @silver-flames-47, @ladybirdbeetle7, @everythingacotarbxm1012
@starlitlakes, @mxtantrights, @itsallacotar, @mother-above, @andreperez11
@coolepowersthings, @littlebookbengal, @lipstickmarks, @aneekapaneeka, @harrypottergirl162
general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria
@the-sweet-psycho
@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe
@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#acotar imagine#acotar x reader#acotar fanfiction#azriel imagine#azriel one shot#azriel fanfiction#be safe az
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Fatherhood.
Single father!Cregan Stark x reader
Summary: the reader comes across a young boy. It seems the boy's worried father becomes quite taken with her.
A/n: He's got cheekbones sharp enough to kill a man đ
Part 2
Masterlist
..........................................
She gasped when something grabbed her leg.Â
The lady looked down to see a small boy, no older than two, holding her leg tightly. "Oh."
She ran a hand over the boy's hair as she looked around for someone, anyone in the crowdâhis parents or her guard. Neither were in sight, it seemed.Â
So she managed to pry him away enough to bend down to his level.Â
"Where are your parents?" She whispered to him.Â
When he didn't answer, she brushed his hair back from his forehead. "That's alright. We'll find them, yeah? They must be missing you fearsomely. What is your name?"
The boy stared with watery eyes.Â
"Well," the lady continued, "Will you let me help you?"
The boy managed a nod and accepted the hug she offered him.Â
She thanked the merchant that she had been speaking to and picked up the boy, now focusing her attention on the people rather than the goods they were selling.Â
Darkish hair, she assumed from the boy's looks. Someone with blue eyes. Surely he was precious to someone.
"Hey," she lightly reprimanded when he tucked his face into her neck. "I need you to look for them. I don't know whatâŚ" Her voice trailed off. The boy was tired and scared and she could hardly blame him.
She roamed the long street once over, just looking for someone that lost their child. A worrisome mother or a stern father. But nothing.Â
She sighed, rubbing the boy's back, "Father won't like this."
She continued on as before, shopping lightly with the boy in her arms. Her heart was warmed by the soft snores that came from his small body.
She walked down the cobble road, noticing a guard whose eyes lit up at the sight of her. It sent her on edge. She turned the other way.Â
Another guard was coming from that direction. She froze.Â
Trying another way, she tried to use the crowd to manage around them, but was met with another guard, quite literally running into him. She backed up in fear, her free hand over the boy's head as if she could protect him.Â
"Hand over the boy, my lady."
They looked so angry. "N-No." She tried to display confidence but that's hardly what she accomplished. "Whatever the boy did, I can pay for-"
"My lady!" Her guard's voice came through.Â
Her guard, Ser Marten, pushed through the guards and the crowd that seemed to not even notice the chaos that was happening.Â
He pulled an arm around her. "Are you alright, my lady?"
She nodded and looked at the other guards. Her eyes flitted down to the sigil that laid on their cloaks.Â
Stark.Â
She feared Lord Stark was more cruel than she made him out to be, having three grown men chase down a small boy.Â
"I won't ask again. Hand over the boy," one of the guards tried again.
"Ser," Ser Marten tried to ease. "Whatever the boy has done can be paid-"
The guard behind her reached out and wrapped a hand around the back of her neck.Â
Ser Marten's eyes widened, and he pulled his sword from its sheath. "Unhand her."
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" A loud voice echoed through the street.Â
The crowd practically split in two as the great Lord Cregan Stark ran to them. "Where-" He paused. "You've found him, my lady?"
Her brow furrowed. "W-What?"
"Unhand her and go," Cregan barked at the guards. "And you," he ordered Ser Marten, "Do sheath your sword. I'll not have violence on my streets."
Ser Marten blinked and did as he said.Â
"You may go as well."
Marten looked between the two, only stepping back at the sight of his lady's nod.Â
With him gone, she felt vulnerable.Â
Cregan held his arms out, expecting her to hand him the boy.Â
She turned away from him out of instinct, shielding the boy. "I-"
He frowned. "My lady." He extended his arms further.Â
"Whatever he's done, my lord, I can pay for. I am not the richest and I hardly know what House Stark would want, but I can try. Please, don't hurt him."
Cregan's mouth opened in a reaction of shock. He tilted his head. She was more than meets the eye. "My lady, I am only a worried father. Please."
A feeling of embarrassment filled her stomach. "Oh." She pulled the boy out in her arms, seeing that, indeed, the Sigil of house Stark laid on the boy's chest. "Oh, forgive me!"
Cregan took his son with caring hands, careful not to wake him. "Oh, my boy," he sighed as he held him close to his chest. "Gods, I've never felt fear like this." He closed his eyes, not caring if he seemed weak for a moment. He was a terrified father and he wasn't afraid to seem it.
"Do forgive me, my lord. I-I didn't not realize-"
"-You did not realize that you held my future, the future of the North, in your arms?" He let out a breath of a laugh. "I owe you greatly." He looked down at the sigil on her cloak. "Lady Bolton? Are you Lord Bolton's new wife?"
She flushed. "No. NO. I am his daughter." She smoothed down her skirt in embarrassment.Â
"Ah, forgive me. I thought his second wife was young. Perhaps I was mistaken."
"You weren't," she assured. "She's not much my elder. An honest mistake."
"But you are still of House Bolton? Unmarried, I mean?" He asked.
"Yes, as of the current time, yes."
He nodded with the information. "Strange to see a childless woman with such motherly instincts. He seemed quite content with you."
"He was quite frightened to be alone."
Cregan hummed. "Let me reward you. You've protected my boy and returned him to me."
"No, I couldn't-"
"-Nonsense. It's the very least I could do."
She watched the boy stir in the large man's arms. His tiny hand gripped Cregan's fur cloak tightly, as if finally feeling the full comfort of his home again. "Knowing I've done you a service is gratitude enough for me."
"Please." He looked around. "Are you alone, my lady? Surely I would have heard of Lord Bolton's arrival before this."
She nodded. "I come to the market every few months. This is the only place I've found dried lavender. Father says I have an obsession," she laughs. "Perhaps so. But I'm old enough now of course to journey alone. With my guard."
"And have you found it this time?"Â
"Hmm?"
"The lavender?"
"Oh. Um," she looks around. "No, I haven't."
Cregan sighs. "That's a shame. Are you sure you won't accept a reward?"
She smiles. "Truly. I am sure." She reached out to brush the boy's hair, but stops herself when she realizes how inappropriate that is now that she knows it's Stark's son. "G'day, Lord Stark."
He stops her before she can turn to leave. "Lady Bolton. Do I get a first name?"
"Y/n."
He repeats it, as if committing it to memory. "Good day, my lady. I won't forget your kindness."
âŚ
Cregan was honest about that. He didn't forget her kindness.
âŚ
"My lady."
Her handmaiden interrupts her quiet time.Â
"There's a gift for you, my lady."
Her eyes lit up. "What? From who?"
"I'm not sure. Shall I bring it in?"
She nodded and watched the woman disappear for a moment before reappearing with a small cloth sack.
She took the bag with nimble fingers, pulling it open.Â
Dried Lavender.Â
A small letter laid inside, sealed with wax, but no sigil.
A small gift to represent my gratitude. - A relieved father
She let out a breath. How thoughtful of him to scour the market for this, even after she was unable to find it.Â
"Who is it from, my lady?"
"Just a man I helped back in Winterfell."
"Well, how thoughtful."
Yes, she thought, Cregan Stark was quite the thoughtful man.
âŚ
Cregan sat at his council meeting, his boy, Rickon, sitting in his lap, tapping his wooden horse against the table as he played with it. The northern lord hardly noticed the sound at this point, the boy's antics becoming second nature to him.Â
"I agree, my lord," one of his councilmen spoke, "perhaps that would be best for the North."
A servant interrupted. "Forgive me, my lord. But it's a letter."
Cregan's mind snapped as he looked up. "Is it? Hand it here."
The servant walked it over to him and dismissed himself.
Cregan's fingers brushed over the wax.Â
The Bolton sigil.Â
He could practically feel his hands shake as he opened it.
My heart is lightened at the news of your relief. I thank you for your gift. It was more gracious than I fear I deserved. I'll remain in awe of how you managed to find exactly what I had failed to. My house, my father, and I as well, remain loyal to you. - Y/n Bolton
"My lord?" One of the men asked lightly.
Cregan looked up from the letter. "Write urgently to Lord Bolton. I have an offer."
Cregan tutted lightly when Rickon reached out for the letter. "Easy, son. This is your father's keepsake."
âŚ
My dear lady, I fear writing yet another letter to you may be deemed inappropriate to some, but they do not understand the kinship we share. My son grows by the day, and still, I remember the day you and I met so starkly. Take this gift, and dare I ask that you think of me when you wear it. - A content father
The bottom of the letter was all scribbles and scratches from the quill, no doubt something that his son had added. It made her heart warm, like perhaps maybe the babe was trying to say something to her as well.
Her eyes wandered to the dress that he had gifted. A Stark blue. She thought it perhaps a bit too bold for the man, but she wouldn't deny his wishes.Â
Her father may question it, but he couldn't refuse such a thing.Â
She took out a quill.
âŚ
I am starting to believe that you have overdone your gratitude. I fear as a young lady, I have not much to give, but perhaps it is true that the thought of a gift is greater than the price or amount of the object itself. I find that this specific type of fabric strips make for wonderful ties for the hair. I mean no harm, but I did notice the way you grew annoyed at the hair in your eyesight when we met. I'm going to send this now before I realize the intent of my actions and grow embarrassed. Do tell your son I enjoyed his drawings per your last letter. - Y/n Bolton
Cregan held the fabric strips in his hand, rubbing the soft material.Â
How ink on a page could make his heart feel alive, he wasn't sure.
âŚ
Cregan spent the next two days in contemplation.Â
While he wanted to immediately write her back, he knew that he should wait. The letter to her father surely arrived at that point, and he didn't wish to seem overly hasty.
But when another letter from her arrived, he almost ripped it in earnest to view its contents.
I fear our letters must come to an end. My father had spoken of a marriage proposal and it seems quite unladylike to be writing such letters. Though we two know of our kinship, I fear it is unfair to my future betrothed. Please forgive me, and know that this was not of my choosing. - Y/n
He paused at her lack of a last name.Â
She wrote as if she had no idea. Her father hadn't told her the entire truth.Â
He leaned back in his chair and placed his hands over his eyes. He wanted to ease her worries, tell her the truth, but it was not yet his place, and he was to wait for her father's response.Â
But it ate at him. What if Bolton was truly marrying her to another? It made him sick.Â
There was a sound in the doorway.Â
Cregan looked up to see Rickon standing with his toy on ground, obviously fallen from his hand. He smiled at him, "Hello, son."
Rickon took his time leaning down to get his horse, then took steps around the long table until he got to his father.Â
Cregan waited patiently, not wanting to rush or correct his boy, but once Rickon was close enough, he reached out and held him up in the air. The little son's squeals filled him with joy. He brought him down to kiss the boy's cheek then set him on his lap to face him. "What have you been doing, my boy?"
Rickon set his horse on Cregan's chest, his attention enamored on it.Â
The lord brushed his son's hair from his face with a longing look. "Think I'll get to hear that voice anytime soon?"
Rickon hit his horse against the man's chest, causing a sigh to come from his father.Â
"Well, maybe eventually, hm?"
Everything sat in such uncertainty. He only hoped that it all worked out as he had planned it.
........................................
A/n: part 2
Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom, @dozcan123, @wangjiangelangel, @kamitargaryen, @aegonswife, @lv7867, @helpmedecideaname
#fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfiction#cregan stark x reader#game of thrones x reader#cregan stark x you#cregan stark imagine#cregan stark x y/n#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones x y/n#house of the dragon fanfic#cregan stark fanfic#cregan stark#cregan x reader#cregan fanfiction#cregan x you#cregan x y/n#hotd cregan
2K notes
¡
View notes
Note
Something for hotch? Maybe where reader gets hurt/a concussion on a case and goes to the hospital but refuses to tell him she went until someone else mentions it?? <3 you dont have to do it if you have something similar but i love your writing!
ty for requesting!! <3 âHotch will look after you, even when you donât tell him you need him. fem, 1.7k
cw reader has a concussion
Hotch rubs his face when he knows nobodyâs watching. Hand over his eyes, thumb and forefinger working against a brewing migraine. It eases a little of the tension there, but he canât do it like you can. Thereâs something in your hands that makes him want to call them lovely hands, such a quaint word. You rub the space between his brows with your thumb until his aching is gone or replaced. Fondness with its own heartbeat wakes whenever youâre near.Â
Youâre not near. His head hurts. He wants a cup of coffee and a shower and to call Jack. The cases are never over when theyâre over, is the thing, and he canât keep track of everything. He has to answer questions and patch holes now, before the work follows him home to take up space on his desk.Â
He talks to police officers, chiefs, victims families and firemen and Penelope, too, anybody who needs to ask him a question. He tells Emily to go back to the hotel because sheâs exhausted, and warns Spencer that staying too long will give him another headache. Heâs surprised half an hour later when Morgan grabs him by the arm. Hotch assumed he went with Spencer.Â
âHotch, what are you still doing here?âÂ
Hotch gives him a strange look. Itâs not as though Morgan hasnât seen Hotch clean up a mess before. âSorry?âÂ
âI thought youâd be with Y/N.âÂ
He tries very hard to look casual. The team are often better at pretending they havenât noticed you and Hotch slowly moving together. âShe went home.âÂ
âNo she didnât, they took her in an ambulance. Sheâs at the hospital, nobody told you that?âÂ
Hotch knows Morgan can finish up for him. He doesnât even say where heâs going or what there is left to do, Morgan is more than capable of handling the unit, and heâs a phone call away. Hotch rushes for an agent with a car and tells them where he needs to go as he punches your speed dial into his phone. Number three, after Penelope and Jess.Â
You donât answer, it makes him feel sick. He calls again and JJ picks up. Blessed, amazing JJ.Â
âHi Hotch.âÂ
âIs she there? Can I speak to her?âÂ
âShe went in for an MRI a half hour ago.â
âJJ, what happened? Why didnât anyone tell me?âÂ
âShe said she told you.â A dry laugh from down the phone. âYouâd think Iâd learn not to trust her. I love her, but sheâs a liar.âÂ
Hotch could say the same thing. âJJ, what happened? Whatâs wrong with her?âÂ
âI think sheâs embarrassed. When everybody was coming back out, someone stepped on the back of her leg and she slipped down the stairs.âÂ
âWho stepped on her?â Hotch asks.Â
JJ laughs. Hotch wonders if theyâre too far into working together to scold her for unprofessionalism, but then he remembers the Unit would fall apart without her and holds his tongue. Heâd fall apart without you, maybe, and he could stand to be a little more defensive.Â
Heâs out of the car and into the hospital in record time. He follows the signs to the Emergency Room, gives your name at the desk, and doesnât have to flash his badge to get told what room theyâve put you in. He wouldâve, and he wouldâve threatened legal action. Heâs no saint. Heâll abuse the system (in innocuous ways only, of course) if it means he gets to see you.Â
Youâre in a bed but sitting on the side of it rather than laying down. JJ sits in the chair beside you, two contrasting expressions on your faces. Youâre smiling. JJ bites her lip.Â
She turns to Hotch with relief. âHey, look,â she says gently.Â
âYou took a long time to get here. Was it the moon?âÂ
Hotch understands quite quickly. âSorry. Nobody told me you got hurt. What happened to the moon, honey?âÂ
You give him a vacant look. Turning back to JJ, your hands vying for her arm, you hold her to your stomach gently and squeeze your eyes closed. âThe light.âÂ
Hotch turns to the wall, looking for the light switch. Itâs hidden behind other concerning tech, so heâs careful about what he presses. You sigh and draw his attention, wiggling back on the bed to almost fall off the other side.Â
âMaybe she thought she told me,â he suggests, not scolding JJ, but unhappy nonetheless. You clearly arenât in a state to make decisions for yourself.Â
JJ rubs your arm. âShe got worse after we got here. Thatâs why they sent for her MRI so quickly. Sheâs on and off with it, incoherent and normal again.â  Â
Hotch knows sheâs concerned for you, but he can read her restless leg; she hasnât talked to Will or heard about Henry in hours. âGo back to the hotel, JJ. I have her.âÂ
JJ gives you a hug, to your confusion, and bypasses him fast. He can hear her phone ringing before the doors shut from her departure.Â
He admires her loyalty, he just wishes sheâd called him two hours ago.Â
You rub your eyes, the loose sleeves of your hospital gown shifting against the loose knot behind your neck, and he genuinely despises the idea that youâd been here, hurt, without him. âCan I tie your gown again?â he asks.Â
You nod into your rubbing.Â
âI turned the lights off. It shouldnât be so bright in here anymore.â He rounds the bed to your back, where a great deal of skin is showing. He smiles though he shouldnât. You poor girl. âYouâre a little⌠stark.âÂ
âIâm trying to think of some fruit and milk,â you tell him.Â
âDo you need help?âÂ
âNot for the fruit.âÂ
âBut for the milk,â he surmises, bringing the ties of your gown as close as he can without strangling you and tying them in a neat bow.Â
âI donât think thatâs what I meant to say.âÂ
He puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb to bare skin. âThatâs okay, honey, youâre having a little trouble now, but itâll go away soon. If there were something wrong, the doctor would be here.âÂ
âYou could be a doctor.âÂ
âI couldnât. I donât know anything about medicine.âÂ
âA very nice doctor. Big hands.â You breathe out loudly, more animated than heâs ever heard you. âWhoo, Iâm cold. I think they made me naked.âÂ
âHow about I tuck you in, would you like that?â he asks, leaning over you in hopes of you turning your head.Â
You stare up at him. âYou want to?âÂ
âIâd love to. I want you to be comfortable.âÂ
âMy boyfriend might not like it.âÂ
Hotch tries not to sulk at another horrible symptom. You arenât only incoherent, but amnesiac. And youâve forgotten who he is, in a way. At least youâve remembered you have a boyfriend. He hopes itâs him.Â
âNo? Why wouldnât he like it, honey? Iâm just trying to take care of you.âÂ
You visibly fluster. âYouâre calling me honey like he does, and he wonât like it âcos he takes care of me. He loves to go to places but he doesnât know where heâs going.âÂ
That second half is gibberish, heâs sure. Hotch puts his hands carefully under your armpits and manoeuvres you back toward the top of the elevated hospital bed.
You put your hand to your tummy as you lean back, and hiss as your head touches the pillows. âOw.âÂ
âSorry,â he murmurs.Â
âDonât tell Aaron I got hurt.âÂ
âWhy not?âÂ
âI fell down the stairs. Heâs never fallen down the stairs.âÂ
âI have, actually. Twice. And it doesnât matter how you get hurt, I want to know youâre alright, so I need you to tell me.âÂ
He pulls the sheets up to your legs and over your lap. Tucks them tightly behind your back, hands lingering on your hips. He watches you look at him, your cloudy gaze tracking over his eyes, his nose, and his lips. âAaron?â you ask eventually, lifting your chin.Â
âYes?âÂ
You breathe out an unmissable sigh of relief. âYou didnât come with me.âÂ
âI didnât know you were hurt.â He squeezes your hip softly. âYou didnât tell me. But itâs not your fault, is it? You got hurt.â His voice falls into silk. âIs that warm enough?âÂ
âIâm glad youâre here. I need you to get my shoes.âÂ
âNo shoes. Can I have a hug?âÂ
âWhy?âÂ
âJust to hug you,â he says softly. âIt might make you feel better.âÂ
You raise your hands clumsily like your fingers are full of sand, forcing him to see his arms under them and behind your back. Your cheeks align, his rough with stubble, yours warm with the heat of a flush, perhaps from the injury. Your hands flop down onto his back as he rubs two separate, loving paths on the gown and your skin.Â
Thank god sheâs okay, he thinks.Â
âAm I stuck like this?â you ask.Â
âAre you worried?â He taps your back. âI doubt it. We might have to stay here for a while, but itâs okay. Feeling better is the priority.âÂ
âIâd like to go back.âÂ
âHome?âÂ
âFor breakfast.âÂ
âAre you hungry? I can find you something to eat.âÂ
âWhat?â you ask.Â
You sound so genuinely confused that Hotch laughs into your shoulder, before giving the fabric a soft kiss. âIt doesnât matter. Iâm gonna bring that chair over and sit with you, okay? Weâll wait for the doctor together.âÂ
He sits with you for hours, talks to doctors and nurses alike as they come to check your vitals and explain your scans. Your confusion doesnât lessen until the night time, and even then you act oddly, bringing his hand to your mouth to kiss strange parts of his fingers. The skin shy of his nail. The underside of a knuckle, the curve under the meat of his thumb.Â
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
3K notes
¡
View notes