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shadowdaddies · 1 year ago

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Heyyyy I feel like we’re besties at this point😭 could I request, yet again, an Azriel story. Maybe one where they’re best friends and they get into a serious argument and maybe it ends with a confession and the bond snaps into place but one of them panics and leaves. And ends up having a panic attack while the other one is super worried and is searching for them. When they find them they calm them down and have some cute fluff with like “look at me” or “breathe with Me” something cute idk and then it ends with smut of them finally being mated and it’s all sweet and stuff. (Maybe with some wing play because holy- that’s hot) THANK YOUUUU

hey bestie! love this request, it's been a hectic week to say the least so I'm catching up on requests but I've been so excited about this one. Love your prompts, hope you love this story as much as I do💜

Laid Bare

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: this is angst, fluff, and eventually smut below the cut, wing play, shadow play, p in v sex, minors dni

You followed Azriel through the door to the House of Wind, slamming it behind you as you yelled at him. The two of you never raised your voices at each other, but your emotions got the better of you as you held back tears, shaking with anger and fear for your mate.

You had known that Azriel was your mate for a long time now, but you knew that he had so much he needed to work through, and you’d decided it would be better to be there for him as a friend while he worked through his trauma, without the added complication of the mating bond.

Tonight, however, you had hit your limit with Azriel’s refusal to accept help and love from others. It wasn’t only you - Azriel had always kept even his brothers at an arm’s length, only opening up to Cass and Rhys when he deemed it necessary. While others were willing to accept his distance, the bond pulled you closer to him, and day-by-day your love and desire to be there for him grew.

Azriel stopped in the kitchen, sipping on tea in his faux-stoic manner that drove you crazy as you stormed over to him. “What the Hel, Az? You put yourself in so much danger, so much unnecessary hurt, and for what? You think you’re a burden to people by letting them be there for you, but it’s a burden.... it really hurts me, Azriel, when you won’t let me be there for you. I love you, all I want to do for the rest of my life is love you, and I just wish you would let me.”

The words poured out before you even realized what you were saying, tears streaming down your face as you dared to make eye contact with Azriel. The moment those hazel eyes locked with yours, Azriel dropped the cup from which he’d been drinking, his steely expression shattering into one of shock, and you knew what had happened. The mating bond snapped for him - at the worst time, when you were yelling at him over something that now felt so trivial.

You began sobbing so hard you were shaking, hyperventilating as you began to panic. Before Azriel could say anything else, you winnowed away. You appeared on the outskirts of Velaris - a quiet place where the mountains met the sea - and vomited everything from your system. You heaved for breath, trying to ground yourself in your surroundings. You went to a nearby brook, splashing water on your face and cleansing your mouth with the fresh water.

The sun had nearly set at this point, and you leaned against a tree as you took in the various shades of the sky, the bright Night Court stars already visible at dusk. Mind reeling with how to address the situation with Azriel, you didn’t hear him approach.

You startled at first, watching him carefully as he sat down to lean against the tree beside you. It was no surprise that he would know where to find you. Azriel let out a long sigh, staring down at his hands folded in his lap. “How long have you known about the bond?” he asked quietly. Chewing your lip, you murmured back, “Some time now, almost a year.” He nodded, taking a moment before he said anything.

He at last turned to you, taking one of your hands in his as he gave it a squeeze, as though he was finding his own strength through that touch. “You were right. Everything you said back there... I’ve always felt like a burden if I were to show weakness or ask for help. But you are always there for me, even when I don’t know what I need, you do.”

Azriel pulled you into his lap at this point, you straddling his hips as he wiped his thumb across your cheek, observing you as he confessed, “I love you, too, by the way. I have for a long time. If there’s anyone I trust, that I feel I can open up to, it’s you. I am damaged, and it will take time, but I want to love you, and be loved by you, if you’ll have me.”

You smiled, turning your face to kiss Azriel’s palm, holding it against your face. “Azriel, I have waited my entire life for you, and I would wait one hundred more lifetimes for you. We will grow and learn how to love and be loved together. That’s what this is.” At that, Azriel pulled you in, your lips barely brushing each other as he looked to you for consent. You smiled, throwing yourself into him as you kissed him how you’d been longing to for so long.

Azriel squeezed your backside, causing you to gasp so he could slip his tongue in your mouth. You ground against him, drawing a groan while you ran your hands through his inky black hair, tugging at the strands. When he thrust his tongue into your mouth next, you sucked on it, earning a surprised gasp and a groan from him as he gripped your hips, grinding his own against you.

You mewled at the contact, desperate for more from him. You pulled back, gasping as you opened your mouth to tell Azriel you needed more, only for him to say so first. A thought occurred to you as you noticed his desperation, and you leaned back, studying Azriel as you ran a finger down his chest. With as much confidence as you could muster, you tilted your head, giving Azriel a mischievous smile as you proposed your deal. “I’ll give you more tonight, Azriel, if you let me take care of you. I want to make love to you, how I’ve been waiting to for so long now.”

At your words, Azriel’s cheeks blushed in that way that you loved as he nodded. You leaned forward, giving him a chaste kiss as you promised in a whisper, “we’ll take this slow - nothing you are uncomfortable with.” With that, you began removing his shirt, guiding him to lay down in the grass as you admired his body in what was now bright moonlight. You removed your own dress, now bare above him, feeling no shyness or shame in your body as your mate gazed at you in awe, running his hands along your sides, palming your breasts as he toyed with your nipples.

You let out a high-pitched moan at the contact, writhing against his touch as you struggled to maintain dominance in the situation. You forced yourself to look down at Azriel, feeling how your own appearance must mirror his own, pupils blown out, cheeks flushed, hair wild as you ravished each other under the stars. You leaned down, rolling your naked body against Azriel’s bare chest as you kissed down his neck to his collarbone, moving one hand to the side for support.

Your finger accidentally touched the edge of his wing, causing Azriel to let out a hiss as he bucked wildly up into you. Immediately pulling back, you frantically searching Azriel’s face for discomfort. “I’m so sorry, Az. I didn’t mean to touch your wing without permission. Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

To your surprise, Azriel laughed. It was a loud, joyous laugh like bells, louder than you’d ever heard from him. He looked up at you with a beautiful, full smile as he shook his head and grabbed your hand, guiding it back to his wing. You looked at him questioningly, “are you sure you are okay with this? You want me to touch your wings?” Azriel nodded, kissing your palm before guiding it back to his wing. “Yes, I want you. Only you. All of you.”

Your heart melted at his words, eyes never leaving his as you experimentally traced your fingers lightly across the veins of his wing, watching as he groaned and panted beneath you at your touch. “Fuck,” Az finally huffed out, “if you keep doing that, I’m going to finish in my pants.” You smirked, taking that as your cue to pull away, kissing down his chest and stomach, giving extra attention to each scar as you worshipped Azriel.

You were working your way down to the waistband of his pants when Azriel gracefully flipped you over, laid on your back against the grass with your hair splayed out. The two of you simply admired each other for a moment, memorizing the feeling of an intimacy you’d never felt before. You helped Azriel remove his pants, eager to have him inside of you, fully one with your mate.

He leaned down, kissing you sweetly as he pushed into you, your eyes rolling and back arching as he entered you, his large size a stretch for you. Azriel kissed all over your face and neck as he settled inside of you, only moving once you had given him permission. Every thrust hit a perfect spot within you, the sex like nothing you had felt before - it was apparent, Azriel was made for you, and you for him.

You could sense that you were nearing your high, stomach tightening as you attempted to mumble to Az that you were close. He understood, licking his thumb before bringing it down to your clit, rubbing circles in tandem with shadows that appeared around your nipples. The sudden stimulation sent you barreling over the edge with a scream, Azriel following closely behind.

He hung his head, resting his nose in your neck as the two of you caught your breath. After several moments, Azriel collapsed into the grass beside you, pulling you into his side as the two of you watched the night sky, laid bare to each other in every sense.

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florencemtrash · 1 year ago

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Flame, Shadow, Beast : Shadow

Azriel x Reader x Eris

Summary: Years after Eris frees you from his father’s prison, you’ve managed to find a new love, new friends, and build a life for yourself in Autumn. But when a certain Shadowsinger stumbles upon your home, dragging in painful memories of betrayal and longing, you’ll have to face the things you left in the past and make choices about the future you want.

Warnings: Angst (specifically a very angsty Azriel)

Flame, Shadow, Beast: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Azriel gripped his glass so tightly in his fist he wondered if it would shatter.

Another year gone. Another year without you. Another year where the guilt ate at his stomach and heart so fiercely he wondered if he was hollow on the inside.

Azriel! WAIT! No! Please, no! AZ! HELP ME!

“Azriel.” Cassian’s voice brought him back to reality, a reality where he sat at an empty booth looking murderous as he tried to drown out the past with his ninth drink of the night.

“Cass.” He said stiffly. His voice was as steady and clear as if he hadn’t drank at all. Cassian could never tell if it was because the alcohol didn’t affect him, or because he was incredible at faking sobriety - either was possible when it came to Az.

“This is the fourth night in a row.”

“You’re perceptive. You should take my job.” Azriel’s voice was so dead and emotionless it frightened him.

“Stop this and come home.” Cassian said, almost begging.

Azriel grit his teeth and said nothing, downing the rest of his drink and silently gesturing to the bar for another one. When the drink came, Cassian snatched it up first. Maybe the drinks had affected him, because on any other day, Azriel could strike faster than lightning.

“Rhysand has a job for you.” He said, pulling on the small collection of words guaranteed to bring some life to his brother.

Azriel’s spine snapped straight and Cassian flinched at how quickly his brother - brooding and sarcastic as he may be - was replaced by The Shadowsinger.

“What’s the job?”

Find Bryaxis. Those were the two words that had sent Azriel flying into the night sky and across all of Prythian, chasing after the demon that had eluded them since the end of the war against Hybern.

For over a decade they’d all held their breath when it came to the ancient creature. For over a decade they’d been plagued by more pressing matters than a beast who seemed content to remain hidden and out of mind. Still, Azriel hadn’t forgotten about him. No, he was like a loose thread on a piece of clothing - forever destined to tug and unravel at Azriel’s shortening patience and sanity.

Nesta had felt something. Something she wasn’t sure of - Bryaxis looming over all of Prythian like a shadow before curling up into a sliver of smoke and disappearing for good.

They’d written to Elain to see if she had seen anything through her Eye, but she’d also been experiencing blind spots in her vision. The future was always full of events, some malleable and some concrete, but it was more unclear than ever before - like someone had shattered a mirror and she was left to string the pieces back together.

Azriel shook his head, emptying his mind of thoughts of Elain. It would do him no good. Thoughts concerning Elain were painful enough now that she’d left the Night Court… they were made even worse because they always traced their way back to you. Like how rivers must always find their way back to the sea, Azriel found himself drawn back to memories of you, so bright and full of heat they blinded and burned him. Your smile, your laugh, the grim determination on your face as you stared him down during sparring matches. You’d been his anchor without him even knowing it.

And now you were gone. And it was all his fault.

Stupid, stupid fool. He hissed at himself.

Threads of information concerning Bryaxis were sparse and limited, but Azriel chased after them all, finding himself deep within the gleaming workshops of Dawn, the silent and cherished libraries of Day, and the sea-whipped bellies of Summer Court ships before finally tracing Bryaxis to the Autumn Court.

This has to be handled delicately. It is imperative that no one discovers you.

Azriel saw Rhysand’s familiar graceful penmanship, read the words, and immediately crushed the note in his hand, casting it into the dying fire. The paper folded and crumpled from the heat before turning to ash.

He huddled down in the mountains that crossed the line between Winter and Autumn, grateful to be free from the cutting winds. Beyond the frozen lake were rolling hills of bejeweled forest. He wouldn’t risk flying now. From here he’d travel through shadows and by foot, getting as close to the Forest House as he dared.

If his intuition was right (and it so often was), if Eris knew Bryaxis was within the borders of his court, he would keep him close. Close enough to monitor, close enough to kill if need be. But what The High Lord of Autumn would want with Bryaxis, Azriel had no idea.

With the issue of succession dealt with and Eris planted on the High Lord’s seat, there came less and less of a need to continue relations between Autumn and Night, at least between Autumn and the Court of Dreams. After the war and until a month ago, nearly all of Eris’s dealings had been with Keir and the Court of Nightmares. Rhysand wanted to change that, and that meant if Azriel wanted to search for Bryaxis in Autumn, he would have to do it in secret. Eris would sooner pluck out his eyes than let any member of the Inner Circle scour his lands voluntarily.

Azriel traveled from town to town, inching ever closer to the Forest House, which curled up beneath the earth like a sleeping giant. That was the issue with the Forest House - hardly anyone knew the size of it, and that meant Azriel could be walking above a watchguard stronghold and not realize until it was too late.

Something stirred within him when he reached one of the Forest House border towns. Everywhere people seemed brighter, livelier than when Beron had been alive, but this place… this place was filled with an uncharacteristic casualness and joy. The marketplace bustled with activity even in the early morning. Plump fruits, freshly baked bread, and sticky treacle candies wrapped in wax paper were laid out with care on hand-built carts decorated with golden chrysanthemums and sunflowers.

You would have loved this place.

No. This wasn’t what he’d come for. He’d come to distract himself with work and to find Bryaxis.

Azriel slipped up the trees and settled in between two arching branches, straining his ears to hear the talk that went on below. His shadows slithered out to gather information his senses couldn’t reach.

“Faula’s with child, can you imagine! After so-”

“Thirty?! Why, how could you charge so much! The High Lo-”

“Four dozen eggs, two pounds of flour, six slabs of butter, and-”

“Will Our Lady be coming?”

Azriel’s ears pricked up, blocking out the hushed conversation that went on around the pair of females who sat on milk crates and peeled apples under the cover of a thatched roof. The crisp sound of a knife sliding between fruit and peel followed by the thunk of a cored apple dropping into a barrel was a soft rhythm to Azriel’s ears.

“To ours?! Good gods, Rebessa, to think that she’d spend the harvest here.”

“She lives close by. It’s not as though we’re strangers to her and she’s wonderfully kind!”

“I hear she’s been invited elsewhere.”

The female gasped, her hand flying up to her mouth. “Elsewhere?”

“Elsewhere.”

“Do you think he’ll-”

“Shhhhh. You mustn’t say anything. I’m not even supposed to know.”

“Well how’d you find out?”

“Syndra says he’s been visiting jewelers and carpenters every week. He could be preparing a new room… or a bridal chest.”

“About time! And will he be going with her?”

“He follows wherever Our Lady goes.”

“Shame. He was unnerving, but welcome. Haven’t lost a sheep or hen in ages.”

They continued on, whispering between their bowed heads of matching ruby-colored hair. Autumn Court members were crafty and secretive by nature, an unfortunate byproduct of existing beneath the thumbs of one brutal and cunning High Lord after another. But it would seem their tongues had loosened in the years since Eris had come into his power.

Our Lady.

Elsewhere.

He.

Azriel rolled the words around in his mind like a rough-cut stone in a tumbler, then set off to find the “he” who followed this Lady wherever she went.

As he slipped through the village, searching for a home that would be fit enough for a Lady of Autumn, there were two things he noticed. First, the stirring in his chest had grown stronger, like the pulling of the sea as it went out with the tide or the beating of a firefly’s wings against glass. Second, for a town of this size, even one that lay so close to the Forest House, there were only a handful of guards left to trot around atop their horses and an additional handful that patrolled the paths to the fields on foot. Whoever this Lady was, she offered them enough protection and power that Eris would willingly leave it vulnerable - at least in appearance.

Azriel’s nerves sparked with interest, his heart thrumming with the adrenaline that came with staying hidden. It was like a game of sorts. A game of how far he could go, how deep into a court could he burrow, how many secrets he could steal from tight lips without getting caught.

When he came across the cottage beyond the borders of town, nothing but the faint trail made by footsteps and horse hooves hinting at its existence through the break in the treeline, he was unimpressed. No wave of power rushed over him. No hunting dogs or other monsters were posted at the door. The only thing that strengthened, and had continued to strengthen as he neared this place, was that fluttering tightness in his chest.

He couldn’t tell if it was his instincts on edge or a bad omen of what was to come.

There was a flat, empty stretch of land from the treeline to the front door. He called upon his shadows, drawing his power over himself to hide as he slinked across the grass soundlessly. His feet knew where to step, his lungs knew when to take breath, until suddenly he was at the side door. A peek in through the window confirmed his suspicions.

There was no one here.

He pressed his fingertips to the walls of the house, feeling the magic splinter outward like a ripple on a still lake. It was an unassuming, but powerful spell that wrapped around the house like a second skin. But Azriel was craftier than that, poking for weak spots in the magic and finding an opening in the chimney.

He broke through the veil of magic, slipped into the darkness, and emerged on the other side inside the house.

It was the smell that dropped him to his knees, the scent of witch hazel, rosemary oil, and oranges, clean and bright and warm all at the same time.

It smelled like you.

All thoughts of his mission and staying hidden at all costs were wiped from his mind. Now he searched for you.

He walked as if in a trance, finding pieces of you everywhere. He found you in the half-drunken mug of tea sweetened with honey and lavender syrup on the kitchen counter. He found you in the embroidery on the curtains - dainty flowers and vines used to patch up the holes and scratches with a personal touch. He found you in the fingerprints that stained the outer leaves of the books on the table.

All these small things spoke a truth he hadn’t dared hope for in over a decade.

You were still alive.

He whirled around, searching the space with desperation for any further signs of you. But the house was empty and still, pieces of furniture missing like you’d been preparing to leave.

You slipped into your house, pressing a finger against your lips in warning to Bryaxis.

Stay silent.

The monster obeyed, his neck twisting to the side at an unnatural angle as his body grew in size, shadowy flesh warping and stretching until he’d taken the form of a bear.

Your eyes turned black. Power whispering at the edges of your mind just waiting to be called upon. You flexed your hands, calling your sword from the ether and feeling its familiar weight drop into your palm.

There was a stranger in your home. A male from the looks of his build and height. He rummaged through the drawers by the door, deft fingers pulling out letters and keys while his other hand gripped his weapon.

You aimed the sword in the center of their back, tracing their spine with your eyes and pressing it against the space between two vertebrae, right at the root of their lungs.

“Drop the sword.” You commanded, pressing harder. The blade sliced through the layers of leather armor with ease. A wrong move, too deep a breath, and you’d slice through their spinal cord and leave them paralyzed on the floor.

Azriel’s heart hammered away in his chest and the feeling there twisted and ate away at him. Turn around. The voice commanded. Look at her.

His hold on his sword went slack, the metal singing before it clattered onto the floor. Without being asked, he unsheathed Truth-Teller, dropped it to the floor and slid the weapon back towards you, holding his breath as your boot stopped the ancient blade in its tracks with a solid thump.

You hadn’t recognized him. How could you? It was unnatural to see him in undyed leather armor and his raven black hair was tucked beneath a matching hood. The rich browns of the amour whispered of Autumn. He must have stolen it shortly after crossing the border into your court. But Truth-Teller? There was no mistaking it.

You grabbed him by the back of his jacket, spun him around, and slammed him against the wall before ripping off the hood with a snarl. The cool touch of your blade against his throat and between the slats of his ribs couldn’t stop what he knew was coming.

The bond burst to life and burned within his chest, swooping and singing like a bird off a cliffside. It was a breath of fresh air. An answer to all his maddening questions.

“Hello Y/n.” His voice rang out in the house, deep and dark and all too familiar.

You froze, eyes blowing wide open as you tightened your hold on the knife and sword until your knuckles turned white.

Aside from the clothes he didn’t look any different from the last time you’d seen him. Same black hair, same hazel eyes that shone a million different colors, same beautiful, sculpted face spoiled by an uncharacteristic look of shock and awe.

He looked the same as he did on the day he handed you over to Beron.

You for Elain.

You in exchange for the female he loved.

The betrayal still stung like salt rubbed into a fresh wound.

Fury set your blood boiling and you answered its call, drawing back and slamming your fist into the side of his jaw so hard you felt something crack and split.

Azriel fell to the ground, catching himself on one hand as the other flew up to his jaw.

Dislocated.

He popped it back into place, wiping his mouth and seeing his hand come away red with blood.

Azriel’s heart threatened to stop in his chest. His eyes crawled over the sight of you, hungry and desperate for every inch of proof that you stood before him. Your eyes were alight, brighter than any fire the world could set ablaze. Everything about you was wide and full of feeling as you stood above him,

Inside his chest, the mate bond continued to purr happily, refusing to be silenced.

“Y/n.” He said again. The words fell like a prayer from his lips. “You’re alive.”

“No thanks to you.”

Bryaxis growled in agreement from your side, lips pulling back to expose teeth stronger than metal and smooth as porcelain. Azriel’s eyes flickered down to him in surprise before going back to you.

“Bryaxis. You’re his master now.” A flash of pride warmed his chest. Leave it to you to take control of one of the most dangerous monsters in existence. Cassian would lose his mind when he found out.

Again, the creature growled, this time in disgust.

At the mention of the creature you’d come to consider a worthy friend you snapped out of your stupor and pointed the sword at his chest, just beneath his sternum, pressing down. Any more force and you’d break skin. Angle it upwards and push and you’d reach his heart.

“Y/n, please.” He begged. It was another shock to your system. You’d never heard him beg for anything.

“What do you want?” The words came out hard and trembling.

“I came to find Bryaxis and bring him back to the Night Court. I… I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Obviously. And yet you’re in my house. Uninvited, might I add.” There was an edge to your voice that hadn’t been there before, a harder gleam to your eyes despite everything else remaining the same. There were some scars that did not write themselves onto skin.

“I… How did you survive?”

Your lips tightened and turned pale, “Are you shocked? Disappointed?”

Azriel flinched. Your words may as well have been another blow to his face. The flesh around his jaw was beginning to bruise, shifting from an inflamed red to a mottled purple.

“No!” Azriel lifted his hands up in surrender. “We searched for you. We searched for you for weeks… You have to believe me.” You searched his eyes for an answer, expecting to be met with his usual unreadable expression. But you found the exact opposite. He seemed… lost. Like he didn’t know what to do with himself. If you didn’t know better you would say the Shadowsinger looked frightened.

“I’m sorry.” he gasped, “For everything.”

It was too late for apologies. Far too late. You told him as much.

“I know,” Azriel swallowed thickly, “I know.” He said again, quieter this time. Something within him dimmed.

“Bryaxis isn’t coming with you.” You said, breaking the silence and finally taking the pressure of your sword off his chest. Azriel moved back onto his feet as swift and strong as a river. “Now get out.”

You turned your back to him, shrugging off the uncomfortable feelings that weighed on your shoulders. You’d be happier when he was long gone.

“You can run back to Rhys and tell him you failed.”

“Y/n-” His hand brushed against your arm, willing you to look at him again. And you did. You whirled on him in an instant, shoving him back with the hilt of your sword.

“Don’t touch me.” You growled. He flinched again like he’d been burned.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I-” He scrambled for words that wouldn’t come. Anything to hold on to you for a little while longer, “Why didn’t you come back to the Night Court? Why didn’t you come home?”

A stupid question to which he already knew the answer.

“That was never my home and there’s nothing left for me there.”

Azriel shook his head, hair shining like a raven’s wing in flight, “That’s not true.”

I’m there. He sent his pleas through the bond. I’ve missed you so much. I’ve been waiting for you for years… for my whole life.

“It is true.”

“And there’s more for you here?” Azriel asked quietly. “You live here on your own, no friends, no family.”

“I didn’t have friends or family in the Night Court either.” You weren’t going to tell him about Eris or Halvor or the others. He didn’t have any right to that knowledge, “You proved that when you traded me away to Beron.”

Azriel tipped his head forward, closing his eyes to the feeling of shame that weighed him down.

Azriel! WAIT! No! Please, no! AZ! HELP ME!

“It was Rhys and I who made the decision. The others didn’t know. Don’t hate them for what we did.”

Your laugh came out like a sharp bark, “I have a hard time believing that.”

If the circumstances were different, he might have pulled down the neck of his shirt and shown you the thin scar on his shoulder, courtesy of Nesta stabbing him with a kitchen knife after she’d learned what he’d done. She would have gone for a second attempt if it hadn’t been for Cassian. He’d dragged her away screaming and crying.

“It’s true. I swear it.” Azriel whispered.

You didn’t say more, didn’t give him the satisfaction of continuing the conversation. His eyes burned into you, moving across your body with a lover’s touch like you were a well and he was looking to drown.

Before you would have melted under his gaze. Before you’d wanted nothing more than to see him look at you this intently. Things had changed.

“I’ll give you an hour to leave these lands. If you’re not long gone by then, I’ll send Bryaxis after you.”

The creature bristled with excitement, teeth bared in a terrifying smile.

“Y/n-” Azriel begged. “Please. The others-”

“I don’t care about the others.” Your voice cracked and you hated yourself for it.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care what you believe or don’t believe.”

“Y/n…” He knew you were serious about your threat and that time was ticking, but he needed to see you again. He needed it like flame needs oxygen. “The others didn’t know…”

To your surprise he dropped down to one knee in front of you, eyes tilted towards the ground.

“I hate what I did to you. I hate that I hurt you and.. And I know…” He swallowed thickly, “I know I don’t deserve any kindness or forgiveness, but at least let the others see you… Let them visit,” He added after a short pause, “In Autumn, if that’s what you want.”

“Get out, Azriel.”

To hear you say his name broke the dam on old memories, painful and numerous. Memories of you screaming out for him to help you when Beron’s men strapped the ashwood chains around your wrists and ankles. Screams begging him to take you home. Anywhere other than Autumn. Anywhere other than under Beron’s thumb.

Azriel! WAIT! No! No, no, no, no, no. Please, no! AZ! HELP ME!

“Please. Consider it.” Azriel murmured. You turned away from him, looking at the engraved clock on the wall. Every tick tock of its hands felt like a death knell.

“They’ll be glad to know you’re alive and safe… more than you know.”

You said nothing, heard nothing as he took his things and slipped out of your house. But you felt his absence like a stone in your stomach. It wasn’t until Bryaxis nudged your waist that all the anger, sadness, and longing crashed in around you. You broke down on the floor, and began to sob into Bryaxis’s side.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

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Author's note:

Yeahhhhhh, Azriel fucked up. But I feel like this would be in character for him? He gets fixated on the people in his life that he's able to 'save' (i.e., Mor and Elain) and especially because of the whole '3 sisters for 3 brothers' thing, I think he would be willing to make big sacrifices to save Elain if it came down to it... but perhaps I'm wrong. I would be curious to hear other people's opinions on it.

Anyhow, sorry for the sad and angsty chapter.

Love,

Florence B.

Taglist: @nightless @mmb-09 @thesnugglingduck @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kemillyfreitas @logankemaek @the-sweet-psycho @a-frog-with-a-laptop @flameandshadowx @applerubyy @esposadomd @imma-too-many-fandoms @bubybubsters

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris acotar #high lord eris #autumn court #the night court #the inner circle #the inner circle x reader #eris x reader x azriel

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deliciousbasementtrash · 1 year ago

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Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Artist: https://www.instagram.com/twalxxart/ Twalxx

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are now a nurse for the entire Batfamily. There has been an emergency and you have been called into the line of fire. You have been injured by the Black Mask, how will Jason react?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x Female!reader

Warning: Adult language, mentions of gunshots and death

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part 9: If I Have to Throw You Over My Shoulder I Will

***********************************************************

Jason Todd

[Jason, please we need backup. We need you.] Dick had sent about ten minutes ago.

Some dark part of me wanted to do nothing. The part of me that was tortured and beaten. The part of me that was angry no one cared enough to avenge me. But I loved Dick like he was my flesh and blood. And whether I admit it to myself or not… I love Bruce the same way.

Often I think about how my life led me down this way. Was it fate? Was it God? Was it just dumb fucking luck?

There is one theory I keep circling back to. The Red String Theory. At birth, we have invisible red strings tying us to the people we are destined to meet. Was I tied to my parents? Bruce? Alfred? Dick? Tim? Barbara? Steph? Cass? Damian? Duke? Or even… him?

That’s too many. If that’s true, my fate lines look more like a messy evidence board. Or maybe a fucked up marionette puppet. Like I was made to be influenced by those tied to me. Pushed and pulled. Just a vessel of violence.

But the Red String Theory couldn’t be true. At least not for me. I’m so covered in red. You can’t pull a red thread out of a sea of blood.

My morbid thoughts halted when I saw Pizza Joe’s. I parked off to the side. In an alley, no one could see. I approached the gunshots, listening for Dick. Boy Wonder was nowhere to be seen, but I made mental notes of the men that were perched on the buildings.

I made my way discreetly around the building, toward the back. My heart stopped dead in my chest.

Y/n was pinned against the wall. With a gun in her mouth. Fighting with everything in her against the Black Mask.

Something in me snapped. Without hesitation I shot twice at his arm, severing the flexor digitorum profundus and rendering his index and middle finger useless. I shot through his stupid fucking masked head. I shot through his heart. I shot through the bastard's fucking dick. I shot. And I shot. And I shot. No one hurts her. Ever.

I barely noticed Bruce as I stepped over him. I could have checked his pulse, his status, anything. But all I cared about was getting to her.

Anger and fear surged inside me, at the sight of seeing her covered in blood. I started to panic. My chest felt like one thousand pounds of pressure was crushing me. All I could do to calm myself down was to pull her into my arms and hug her tight enough that I felt her heartbeat against mine. She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.

I had stayed away from her this past week. Trying to keep her safe from whatever bullshit I would bring her. But here she was finding the danger all on her own. Without me to make sure she was safe.

Seeing her face, feeling her against my body, lit something up inside me. Anger surged.

“Why the fuck are you here?” I growled.

***********************************************************

Jason grabbed my chin, slowly moving it from side to side, inspecting my blood-spattered face. His mouth was moving but all I could hear was the damn ringing in my skull. Jason frowned and looked at both my ears. I felt a warmth run down the left side of my neck.

Jason leaned into my right side, his cold helmet brushed against the shell of my ear making me shiver. “You’re hurt.” The words were simple. But they were laced with bitterness and anger that went beyond reason.

I looked up at his Red Hood, “Dick needs your help.” I couldn’t tell if I was screaming the words or saying them at a reasonable volume. I couldn’t gauge Jason’s reaction either which annoyed me. I wanted to rip that helmet off and see his face.

“I’m looking at someone that needs my full attention right now. Grayson can handle himself,” he snarled the words at me.

Gunshots sounded loud enough for me to hear. My brain started spiraling into the worst-case scenario. A Dick Grayson riddled with bullets involuntarily entered my mind. “Please help him. Please, Jason.” I grabbed his arm as I begged. His bicep tensed under my grip.

“I’m not leaving you alone,” he ground out. “Get behind me.” Despite his harsh tone, he gently moved me behind him. His broad shoulders and generous height covered me completely. I kept a hand at the base of his hip. Ready to heal him if needed.

There were four shooters surrounding Dick, and three on the buildings, all pointing their guns at him. Jason opened a pocket on his thigh and reloaded his right gun one-handed. He was so smooth with the movement it was like he was doing something simple like buttering toast. He was dexterous at a level I can only describe as masterful.

Jason aimed at an impossible speed and precision. Seven shots rang out. Seven men fell. I don’t even think they realized Jason was enemy fire until they already had a bullet fly through them. It was seemingly impossible.

Jason didn’t give me a chance to assess Dick or Bruce before throwing me over his shoulder and walking away.

“I need to help them! Jason! Jason, listen to me!” I yelled and slapped the back of his leather jacket. He ignored me or I didn’t hear his response. Knowing him, most likely the former.

Suddenly, he moved me off his shoulder and straddled me onto his motorcycle. My mind was acutely aware of his large hands pinning my waist down.

“Grayson is fine. He will take care of Bruce and your car. I’m taking you home. Now.” He was leaning toward my good ear again, his voice was dark and commanding. Lighting a certain part of me on fire. Who am I kidding, my whole being burned.

“I am fine, Jason. Really. You got there in time. Just let me heal the boys and I’ll go with you!” I sneered at him.

“How about no,” Jason sneered back and straddled onto the motorcycle behind me. His firm body was flush against the entire back side of mine. My breathing became uneven when he reached his arms around me and revved his motorcycle before accelerating. I tried not to lean back into him. But he was so warm and I was so tired. Jason must have felt my tension. His hand found my hip, as he continued steering with the other. He pushed back, forcing my body to melt into his.

“I’ve got you,” he said, making me shiver.

Gotham was a blur of lights as Jason drove us back to the Batcave. In a record, 6 minutes. Which I tried not to take personally.

He rode us through the entrance, and as close as he could get to my workstation. He got off quickly as if trying to get away from me. But just as quickly scooped me up from my underarms and placed me on top of my examination table. I blushed at the firm way he moved me around. Like I was his to just grab and move as he pleased. He was an extremely strong man. He made it seem like it was no effort at all.

He roughly took off the Red Hood. His hair was a wild mess. His eyes were dark with what appeared to be anger and concern. His breathing quickened as he looked me over.

“What blood is yours?” He curtly asked, messily digging into my neat supplies. I tried not to cringe as he did. With his mask off it was a lot easier to understand him because I could read his lips and vaguely hear him.

I looked down at my red-stained hands. I curled them up and down. The blood was sticky and cracked. Suddenly, an assault of memories flooded my mind.

The hospital wing after the mass shooting—healing a man being tortured over and over for information—my mom's bloody nose—my bloody legs dripping into my sneakers. Breathing became sharp and rushed.

A hand gently caressed my face, “Hey, hey. It’s just me. It’s Jason,” his voice and touch was gentle. Easing my mind back to reality. When I was no longer trapped in my own mind I realized that Jason was once again cleaning up my hands. He washed the blood off of them until you never knew I had stabbed a man in the neck.

His hands were warm and calloused and thorough. For a moment he just held my hands in his. His thumb traced small circles on the inside of my wrist causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. Slowly, he trailed upward to my forearm, and an angry sigh left his mouth. Wordlessly, he cleaned and tended my cut. Wordlessly, he wiped the blood and brain matter from my face and neck. Wordlessly, he took off my stained hoodie and disgusting scrubs. Until I was left in my white undershirt and tight black shorts.

His eyes were hard and staring just above the curve of my breast. Right where my heart rapidly beat. Right where the Black Mask had made a small but deep cut. And then his eyes trailed upward. Toward my bruised neck, and burned cheek.

“I should have killed him slower,” he growled out. I hadn’t realized how close Jason was to me. Somehow he had gotten between my legs and mere inches away from my face. My cheeks heated, as I took in the oddly delicate features of this harsh man. He had a very light sprinkling of freckles across his nose. His eyes were more of a stormy gray than blue. His eyelashes were so pretty and long I wanted to slap him. And his Cupid’s bow was sharp and defined which highlighted his full lips. I swallowed roughly.

“Thank you, for—for helping me,” I whispered, afraid that if I spoke any louder I might scare him off.

Jason scoffed angrily, “You shouldn’t have been in that position in the first place. I’m going to beat Bruce with an inch of his life—”

Gently, I gripped Jason’s hand, “I chose this. Don’t be mad at Bruce. If anything, be mad at me. I should have been more prepared. I should have brought a weapon.”

Jason leaned his forehead in so it was just barely touching mine. I involuntarily held my breath.

His hands reached for mine as he traced along my old burns. “We are bad for you.” He whispered.

“You guys have given me a part of myself that I thought was lost forever. How could that ever be bad?” I lifted a hand hesitantly up toward his cheek. Jason leaned in like he was desperate for the contact. For comfort. For me.

“I can’t get you out of my head. I want—” Jason’s soft words were interrupted by the screeching of my car followed by the Batmobile. Jason practically jumped five feet away from me. I frowned at the lack of contact.

Well, Bruce is well enough to drive, that’s good. Pretty fucking shit timing though, Batboy.

I lowered myself from the table. I tried hiding my wince, but I saw Jason tense. He reached forward steadying me, before scolding, “Do not push yourself for them.”

Dick came out of my car with a large dimpled smile and a huge ugly shinner. Bruce looked pale but better. I motioned for them to sit where I was just perched. Ready to finish healing them.

Bruce was simple. I just had to re-patch him up. Finish what I started. Dick was a bit more complicated. Homie had the snot beat out of him. One of the bright sides was that he wasn't shot.

When I was done, both Dick and Bruce politely excused themselves to their rooms.

I slowly cleaned up my workstation. Jason silently helped me. His mouth was a firm line.

My hands shook with exhaustion when I was done. My eyes went in and out of focus. My head was pounding from the exertion and the physical trauma. I covered my bad ear, trying to will the ringing to stop. Jason noticed and gently pulled me to him. Before I knew it he had his arm under my knees and back, and he cradled me into the elevator.

I snorted at him, “I’m fine, Jason, really. Don’t go through the trouble of carrying me.”

“I think I want to rip that word out of your vocabulary,” he snapped. “Let me just carry you. Don’t make it a big deal.”

My heart sank, and I whispered, “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“While I’m at it, I’ll take that one too,” he said, pressing the button number 4. Our floor number. “Don’t lie to me and tell me you’re fine. Don’t ever apologize for existing.” He huffed and paused, “Please.”

I nodded, not sure what to say. The elevator ride went by shockingly quickly. He walked past his room and into mine. He set me down on my bed gently. He pulled my blankets back and covered me. I got deja vu as he did it. I smiled under my covers.

Jason pulled an armchair towards my bed. He angled it so he could see both the door and the windows. I looked at him, confused.

He shrugged at me, “I didn’t like seeing a man have a gun in your mouth. I actually don’t think I saw it for more than two seconds before everything went red.”

“So, that explains why you’re watching me in my armchair because…”

Hashbrown barrelled toward Jason. She rubbed her body on his feet demanding attention. Jason swiftly picked her up and held her on his lap. She seemed to soothe him as he pet her. The tension in his body decreased, instead of ramrod straight he leaned back. Almost comfortable, but not quiet.

“Because I need to make sure that you’re okay,” he said after a few minutes went by.

“Why?” I asked, needing an answer.

“I don’t like it when you’re hurt. Or in danger,” he answered.

“Why?” I demanded, again.

He roughly raked a hand through his messy hair, “I don’t know why. I just feel like… like you’re mine to protect. You put all your energy into healing other people. You deserve someone to care if you’re healthy and safe.”

I think only two people in the world have ever cared about that. Sam and my mom. His words were like wildfire to my mind and body.

Warmth bloomed in my chest, followed by boldness, “Do you have to protect me from all the way over there? Or can you protect me in my bed?”

Taglist: @soundsfunbutno @killxz @morpheus-girl @redhood414 @bungunz @conicoroahre @greenyofthegreens @taytaylala12 @theroyalmanatee @nym-0-s @sarahskywalker-amadala @bonesbonesetc @dreaming-of-the-reality @gone-batty-fics @thescarletcryptid @bakugosgf2005 @irregular-child @vythika96 @greenyofthegreens @mythicalmo @eccentricarabella-blog @princessbl0ss0m @ghostindeath @whirlwind2005 @the-lights-are-loud @00hellohello00 @tfygcdy @theblindhag @murkyponds @midnightecko @crookedmakerfury @cosmicqueenieb @deans-spinster-witch @princessbl0ss0m

If I missed anyone please let me know <3

Author's note: Thank you all so much for your kind words, comments, messages, and interactions!! They inspire me to keep writing. I hope you guys continue to enjoy the story, thank you again <3

Hashbrown Cam!

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azrielsdove · 11 months ago

Text

Love and Loss: Ch.10

Warnings: Angst, Smut

Ch.9 Here | Final Ch Here

***

What? Your body stilled under Azriel’s hold, mind racing. You felt anger, joy, sadness, and frustration all at once. Did Rhysand know? Did Azriel know all this time? Why did the bond never snap before? None of it made any sense and was all too much, pressing hard on your chest until you thought you’d break under the weight of it.

You pushed Azriel off of you, breathing heavy. “Have you known?” You demanded, hands shaking at your side. He shook his head ever so slightly, eyes still dark with lust. You understood that his instincts were telling him to go to you, be with you, but you needed answers before anything else happened.

“I didn’t. I always felt drawn to you, yes, but I did not think it was a mating bond. Especially not once you were married.” His hands clenched into tight fists. “He told me during our fight.” You run your hands over your face, taking a deep breath.

“This isn’t the first time i’ve made you food, Az. Why did nothing ever happen before?” You were going to be sick. Was this another thing Rhysand had ripped away from you? Your mate had been in front of you all this time, just out of your grasp.

Azriel shrugged, moving to stand behind the table. As if putting distance between the two of you would help his instincts. “It hadn’t snapped for either of us then.” His fingers dug into the wood in front of him as he forced his gaze away from you.

You could feel it now, that subtle pull towards Azriel. Perhaps it had always been there, maybe you’ve always known. You wiped your hands on your dress, turning around to the counter behind you. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you wanted to laugh out loud at the absurdness of it all. Five centuries wasted with a male who had done nothing but play you, when your cauldron-fated mate was right there. He was always there. He has always been there.

You gave a frustrated shout and slammed your hands on the countertop. “Get him out of here,” you ground out to Cassian, teeth clenched. You didn’t look back at Azriel’s shout, you ignored the sounds of fighting as Cassian forced him away from you. You knew it wasn’t right to take your emotions out on him, but you couldn’t jump straight into the mating bond after all of this. After how betrayed you had been by the male who owned your heart before him. You sunk down to the floor of the kitchen and buried your face in your hands. Rhysand had been the supposed love of your life, the star of your heart. While you couldn’t deny the feelings you felt growing for Azriel, were you truly ready to trust someone like that again? You were completely devoted to your husband for so long, never even thinking he would hurt you the way he had. Would Azriel be the same? Would he grow tired of you? After the novelty of finally getting the girl wore off, would he realize this wasn’t truly what he wanted?

You could argue the mating bond answered those questions for you, but you knew as well as any that a mating bond didn’t mean everlasting love. Azriel may be happy now, but were centuries of waiting for you worth it? How is it fair that Rhysand gets to be blessed and happy, when he has quite possibly destroyed any chance at your own happiness? A small cough broke you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see a disheveled Cassian standing in the entryway.

“I gave him a sleeping draught,” he said, wincing at the admission. “I wasn’t sure what else to do. Tearing a freshly mated male away from his mate is no small feat.” You nodded, feeling guilty for putting Cassian in this position.

“I’m sorry, Cass. I just don’t know what to do.” You felt hopeless, lost in a wide sea of emotion. He came over to you, sitting next to you on the floor.

“What’s stopping you?” The question was simple, but oh so complicated.

“What if he realizes I wasn’t worth waiting for all this time? What if he leaves me like Rhys?” You felt small, broken. Cassian pulled you into his arms, tucking you tight against him.

“Don’t speak like that. What Rhysand has done is truly evil.” He sighs deeply. “I’ve spent my life with them, and Azriel is a true honest male. I am confident he would rather die than ever hurt you.” That made you feel worse. You were punishing Azriel for how Rhysand had treated you.

“Why does he get to live happily after what he’s done?” It wasn’t really a question, and you certainly weren’t expecting Cassian to answer.

“I’ve been looking into it, going over any of the laws I can think of.” You sat straight up and looked at him, eyes wide. You often forget that he was the General of the Night Court, that his easy-going humorous attitude hid a deeply intelligent male. “What Rhysand has done unfortunately isn’t illegal in any way, though I wish it were. The other courts already see him as the most despicable male, so they wouldn’t be surprised by how he’s acted.” You sunk a little, knowing what he said was correct. “Also, if there were laws against High Lords being unfaithful or terrible to their wives half the courts would be without one.” He shook his head in disgust. You agreed, knowing all too well how some of the other High Lords chose to act.

“What am I to do, Cass? The Night Court is my home, my life. Azriel’s career is here. How am I supposed to remain here and respect him as my High Lord?” You looked down at your hands, overwhelmed. You loved your home here, but was it enough to overshadow the pain Rhysand had left? Cassian squeezed you tighter.

“Maybe we begin to look at different courts.” You looked up at him in shock, a small smile on his face.

“We?” Certainly he couldn’t mean-

“Yea. All of us. You, me, and Az. I won’t stay here without him.” You pulled away from him, staring at him as if he just said he created the ground you walk on.

“Y-you’re the general of the Night Court, you can’t leave! Azriel is his spymaster, will it not be some form of treason if you desert?” This was all too much. Cassian gave you an encouraging smile and nudged your shoulder with his.

“You’re allowed to leave the court you were born into. Besides, I don’t think I can trust Rhysand any longer. He isn’t the brother I once knew. He probably never was.” You felt tears in your eyes for the millionth time as you flung your arms around your friend.

“Oh Cass, how I love you.” He hugged you back, laughing lightly before pulling away.

“You better go find Azriel. I don’t think that sleeping draught will last long, and i’m certain he will be searching for you as soon as he can stand.” He winked at you as you rolled your eyes. The two of you stood and you gave him one last quick hug.

“Thank you, Cass. For everything.”

***

You found Azriel still asleep in his bed, although he looked far from peaceful. His eyes were fluttering and he was twitching in his sleep, likely trying to get out of the spell and to you. You sat next to him on the bed and ran your hand through his hair. His body instantly settled, your touch all he needed. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face at that.

“My lovely Shadowsinger,” you cooed, continuing the stroking of his hair. Your heart sung for him, a possessive need to keep him as yours. You studied his face carefully as he slept, taking in his strong features. There was a vulnerability about him right now, a rawness that you didn’t see very often. He stirred and his eyes cracked open, the too-alert stare a bit jarring. He sat up and moved as if to pull you close before deciding against it, clasping his hands tight in his lap.

“He drugged me.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his incredulous tone. Azriel shot you a glare that quickly turned into a smile as he took you in. “You’re here. Are you…okay?”

You tugged one of his hands out of his lap, holding it tight. “I am more than okay. How are you feeling?” His eyes dragged up and down your body, the mating lust visible in them.

“Uh, I’m…good.” He cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away from you. “Is this what you want?” Your heart broke at the uncertainty of his voice. You squeezed his hand to get him to look back at you.

“You are everything I want.” You leaned forward and kissed him, stopping him from saying anything further. There would be time for talking later.

He groaned into your mouth and his hands moved to wrap around you, pulling you into his lap. You adjusted your legs to sit on either side of his hips, rocking gently down onto him. His nails dug into your waist at the action, a warning to not tease him. You felt like you could come undone just like this, everywhere your body touched Azriel’s was on fire. The effect he had on you was like nothing you had ever experienced. His hands ran down to your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles on the bare skin there. You ground down on him again, needing to feel him as much as you could. He growled, a hand slapping one of your thighs. You gasped at the stinging pleasure, especially as he repositioned his hand over the mark and squeezed.

He pulled away from your lips, pressing harsh kisses down your neck. “Please don’t rush me when I have waited so long to have you.” Your head tipped back at his words, allowing him more access to you. One of his hands moved to fan across your back, pressing your body tight against his. You were going to burn alive under his touch.

The hand on your thigh pushed up under your nightgown, fingers tracing the edges of your underwear. They moved like he was trying to memorize your body, like you were an art piece he’d never see again. His lips came back up to yours, a burning kiss that said all the words he had kept secret all this time. He poured the love he felt for you straight into your soul, healing you from the inside out. Azriel’s love wrapped around you like a warm blanket, strong and secure. You wrapped your arms tight around his neck and pulled him even closer, wanting him to feel the same way you did.

His fingers carefully slid beneath your underwear, sliding through the wetness that had gathered there. He groaned appreciatively as he felt you, making sure to touch every inch of you available to him. “Az, don’t tease,” you murmured out against his lips, desperate for him. You felt him smile against you as two fingers pushed slowly inside, curling once he was at his deepest. One of your hands slid hold his face as you gasped out in pleasure, the feeling of Azriel touching you overwhelming. His thumb moved to circle your clit, applying delicious pressure in time with the pumping of his fingers. You were coming undone much too quickly, his name slipping past your lips in helpless moans.

“That’s my good girl.” His words were punctuated with a particularly deep thrust of his fingers, curling perfectly where you needed him too. You began riding his hand, following the pleasure burning in your stomach. He matched your pace exactly, already perfectly in tune with what you needed. You felt that tight burning in your stomach, knowing you were on the edge. “That’s it,” Azriel whispered, fingers moving beautifully. “Cum for me.”

You threw your head back as the pleasure rushed over you, mouth open in a silent scream. He helped you through it, stilling his movements once you looked back at him. You wasted no time in reattaching your lips, the desire for him even stronger than it was. He flipped the two of you so you laid flat under him, hovering over your body. He began pressing a trail of kisses down your neck and chest, hands ripping the top of your nightgown apart. The tattered fabric against your skin felt sinful, made you feel like the epitome of desirable. Azriel’s lips down your body only enhanced the feeling, that you were the most divine being.

He reached the silk covering you, tearing it off of you much like your gown. You sucked in a breath at the rush of cold air against you, looking down to watch him study you. “Gorgeous,” he breathed, nose hitting your clit as he moved down. You jumped, still sensitive from the orgasm he had just drawn from you. His hands came to rest on your thighs, holding you open for him. His eyes darted up to catch yours as tongue began to explore you. You forced your gaze to remain on him, one hand coming to tangle in his hair. The way Azriel’s tongue moved against you, inside you, had your mind go blank. All you knew was him.

You arched off the bed and threw your head back as he sucked at your clit, fingers dropping back down to resume their movement inside of you. Your other hand moved down to grip onto his head as well, trying desperately to ground yourself. Azriel touched you in a way no one had before, as if he worshipped every second he got to spend between your legs. To him it was a privilege to have this time with you, not an expectation.

Your body began to shake at the sensations he was pulling from you, a second orgasm coming in quick. You squeezed your thighs tight against his head, knowing it would all be over far too soon. You screamed as you came, entire universes exploding behind your eyes. Azriel didn’t let up as your orgasm died down, keeping the same rhythm he had built. You whimpered at the overstimulation, legs shaking around his head. He hummed against you, encouraging you to keep going. Pathetic cries fell from your lips as he worked your body, refusing to give up a second of your pleasure.

Tears slipped from your eyes as you came again, his name the only thing you knew. “Azriel, Azriel, Azriel!” You chanted as wave after wave of mind-numbing pleasure washed over you. He helped you through it, stopping once he was sure you were satisfied. He moved back up to your face, brushing the tears away and pressing a light kiss to your lips.

“Can you take one more?” He asked, his only goal that you feel as good as possible. You nodded, mind still too frazzled for words. He smirked at your dumbed down state, pleased with himself. He leant down and kissed you again, tongue twirling with yours. You tasted yourself on him, desire burning in you once more. Your hands fell to the hem of his shirt, tugging it up enthusiastically. He pulled away to help take it off, discarding his pants and underwear as well. Your jaw dropped at the size of him, standing tall against his stomach. You reached a hand out to touch, Azriel stopping you. “I won’t last. I want to finish inside you.” Gods. He was going to be your final undoing.

He pulled the ripped gown off your body, leaving you both bare to each other. The two of you took a breath, both memorizing the look of the other. He was a god amongst fae, a deadly Illyrian soldier, the Shadowsinger. Rhysand may be more powerful, but the raw strength of Azriel was unlike anyone else. And he was yours.

You looped your arms back around his neck and kissed him again, love radiating from you. His hands came to rest on your waist as he pushed you back down, lips never leaving yours. You felt him run his tip down you, collecting the wetness there. He gently pushed at your entrance and your legs fall open to welcome him. “Are you ready?” He asked, pulling his lips off yours to look at you.

“Yes. Please, Az.” He pressed his forehead to yours and pushed in, twin gasps coming from both of you. Oh, he was delicious. He sunk deep into you, knocking the breath out of you with the sheer size of him. He paused when he was all the way in, feeling you adjust around him. You pushed your hips up against his, desperate for him to move. He hissed between his teeth before pulling almost all the way out and then thrusting back in. You arched against him, nails digging into his back. He hit every spot inside of you, fitting like he was made for you. Perhaps because he was.

You felt him holding back from unleashing himself on you, and you refused to have that. You ran one hand along his wing, leaning up to whisper in his ear. “Fuck me proper, Azriel.” He cursed at your words, head bowing down to rest on your shoulder. He wasted no time in fucking into you, hands digging hard into your hips. You screamed his name as he thrusted in and out, head falling back against the pillow. He bit harshly into your shoulder, tongue soothing the marks he left. You cried out, already on the edge for him again. He pounded into you over and over, the force of his hips against yours making you certain you would bruise tomorrow.

His rhythm began to go sloppy and he tensed up, close to his finish as well. His fingers came to circle your clit again, forcing you to fall off with him. He shouted for you as he came, your matching cry of his name as you followed. You squeezed tight around him, pulling every drop of his cum from his body. You could stay lost in this pleasure with Azriel for the rest of your life and be completely happy.

You breathed hard against each other, bodies coming down from your joint high. He slowly pulls out, running a hand down your face. His eyes are full of adoration, admiring your flushed out gaze. You couldn’t resist leaning up and kissing him again, gentle and sweet this time. Locked in his arms, all the pain from Rhysand felt like a long ago story. You knew then that you could live happily anywhere, as long as Azriel was by your side.

***

I hope this was everything you guys wanted!!! The next chapter will be the last 🫣. Thank you all so much for your support and love on this story and I hope you like the ending I have planned <3

*crossed out blogs i couldn’t tag

Taglist: @amara-moonlight @tothestarsandwhateverend @onlyangellh @hnyclover r @greenapplesaucepi @just-a-social-casualty-1 @heyyitsnat21 @mirandasidefics @bubybubsters @mybestfriendmademe @thaynarajejheje @brujitafantomatico @justdreamstars @thisblogisaboutabook @lees-chaotic-brain @abeltownshipslittlebitch @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @fxckmiup @its-sam-allgood @miluiel1 @nickishadow139 @hailqueenconquer @mika-no-sekai-blog @books-hlmc @stonerpersona @starsinyourseyes @meshellexplosionmurder @acourtofbatboydreams @captainsbaby @anuttellaa @val-writesstuff @isavanhoni @kalulakunundrum @i-have-a-thing-for-the-dark @isa1b2h3 @tele86 @sh4nn

#love and loss #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #acotar x you #acotar x y/n

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hunterofartemis7 · 10 months ago

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*bat family going out for dinner and inviting Raven*

Bruce: so where does everyone want to go?

Jason: let’s go to a Steak House!

Damian: you always say that!

Jason: and we never go cause you’re vegetarian!

Damian: find a steak place with vegetarian options and I’ll go!

Bruce: boys! Behave

Tim: why don’t we go to the Mexican place on Main?

Dick: no way! My insides still haven’t recovered!

Jason: not our fault you can’t handle spice

Duke: isn’t there a new restaurant down town

Selina: absolutely not. I just went with Ive and Harley and I am not subjecting my kids to that trash

Steph: what about Chinese?

Damian: Cass is allergic

Steph: shit i forgot! Sorry cass!

Cass: *signs* it’s okay

Bruce: *looks at Raven through the review mirror* Raven? You have any preference or some where specific you’d like to go?

Raven: *shakes head* I’m fine with anything really, I’m not picky

Jason: what about sea food!? There’s a place across from Di’Angelos and they have vegetarian options

Bruce: sounds good to me

Duke: me too

Dick: me three

Cass/steph/dami/tim/; works for me

Raven: *fidgeting with her hands*

Selina: Raven sugar, you okay?

Raven: yes, I’m fine..

Selina: okay

*pulls up to the restaurant*

Jason: finally! I can’t remember the last time I have sea food!

Damian: *opens the door for raven*

Raven: thank you, Dami. *gets out*

Damian: *notices she has an epi pen* what’s that

Raven:..my epi pen..

Bruce: why do you have an epi pen?

Raven: just in case…I go into anaphylaxis..

Jason: why would you go into anaphylaxis?

Raven:…*looks down*

Selina: wait are you allergic to sea food?!

Raven:….*nods*

Dami: what!? Habibti why didn’t you say something!?

Raven: because I didn’t want to be a bother…..since yall invited me out with you..

Bruce: raven speaking up about an allergy is not being a bother! That’s your health and that should always come first.

Tim: how bad is your allergy?

Raven:……

Tim: how bad?

Raven:..I’m already feeling sick and I’m not even in the building yet..

Jason: okay we’re leaving.

Dick: yeah we can go anywhere else. Heck there is an Italian place across the street.

Raven: y’all don’t have to do that.

Dami: Beloved your health is more important than some fucking fish

Steph: agreed.

Dick: And are you okay rn? Do you need some water or anything? You said you felt sick

Raven: no..no I’m okay

Dami: you sure? Cause we can get you some if your not feeling good

Raven: I’m okay..really.

Dick: if you say so..

Steph: Btw, do you do this often?

Raven: do what?

Steph: put your health last instead of speaking up?

Raven:……

Steph: I’ll take that as a yes

*everyone gets back in the car*

Dick: wait if you’re allergic to sea food, than what do you do when there’s a crab boil at the tower?

Raven: lock myself in my room and try not to vomit..or pretend to eat and keep my epi pen close..

Bruce: does Kori not know about this?

Raven:..no

Selina: why not?

Raven: cause I didn’t want to bother anyone with it..

Selina: *sighs* I’m calling her later

Raven: I’m sorry..

Dami: beloved you have nothing to apologize for. It’s okay

Raven: but everyone seemed so happy about sea food and I ruined it

Jason: girl no you didn’t. It’s okay

Raven: but—

Tim: no buts. Hey we can’t eat Chinese when Cass is around, and we keep it away from her at all times. we have no issues with that. And We have no problem doing the same for you.

Cass: *signs* yeah, your family now. We take care of each other

Raven:..🥹

Dami: *kisses her cheek* your stuck with us Beloved.

Jason: yeah. Now, let’s get some pizza!

#damian x raven #damirae #raven dc #raven roth #raven teen titans #damian wayne #robin damian #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #selina kyle #bruce x selina #stephanie brown #duke thomas

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fieldofdaisiies · 1 year ago

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Like I’m Gonna Lose You

ship: Cassian x Reader type: drabble warning(s): none, self-doubt maybe word count: 1,8k words summary: Heyy idk if you're taking fuc requests but if you are can you write a cass x reader fic where they've been together a while but they're slowly drifting apart and only reader can see it and basically makes cass grovel? Idk if that made sense lmao but whatever you make of it in sure it'll be great.

You sit on a lounger, high on the roof terrace of the House of Wind, the tip of your finger absently tracing over the rim of your class. From your position your have the perfect view over the whole terrace, right to the training pitch.

Your eyes stay on Cassian, observing him silently. He is training with Azriel, their chatter and the echoes of their laughter reaching you.

You would love to laugh along, to join in, but you are so wrapped up in your thoughts, you can't. A feeling of unease settles into your gut as you try to remember when it was the last time that you and Cassian laughed so freely. It must have been weeks, maybe months.

Something is going on between the two of you. You don't know what it is, but it is there and it is a cold feeling. Something that makes a small crack appear in your heart. But this crack threatens to increase with each passing day.

As you watch them sparr, a pang of distance tugs at your soul. Not only is your heart aching, but also the bridge between your souls. The bond.

Your gaze stays on Cassian, focusing on how he elegantly glides over the pitch. He still is, without doubt, the most beautiful male in the the world. The one you fell in love with, the one you gave your heart and soul to and then one you would choose over and over again.

But there are these questions, that fill in your mind, doubts gnawing at you. Are you both growing apart? Is your once unbreakable bond becoming fragile all of sudden? Is this bond not meant forever? Was it never meant forever? In the past weeks Cassian has spent so much time with Az and Rhys, and you would never blame him for it. They are his brothers and he loves them. But you are here as well, and it seems like you are not at all important to him anymore.

Cassian lands a blow, and you try to cheer him on, to be supportive, but a cool feeling overcomes you when your cheering is met with ignorance. Maybe he hasn't noticed you?

But Azriel has noticed you, so how would Cassian not?

It's as if you are an outsider, observing a something that you are no longer part of. And that makes you incredibly sad.

You take a sip from your glass, and then place it down on the ground next to you before you lean back on the lounger and close your eyes. There is this bitter taste at the back of your mouth, your throat burning a little as your eyes start to water. What if his distance really means that he no longer wants to be with you?

You are yearning for the closeness you once had, the dreams and hopes you kept talking about. The future you had planned with Cassian. He is your mate, his your love and your life. Since the day the bond snapped you have never imagined to live a day without him. But this might all be coming to an end now…

As you lie there on the lounger, you feel the widening space between your souls, the ache of drifting apart. The joy that once has been brightly glowing between your souls, the passion and the love, it seems like it has vanished.

Tidal waves of sadness pull you into a sea of doubt and uncertainty. You squeeze your eyes tighter shit, wanting to drown out everything around you. And in the midst of it all, you only hope that you will find a way back to each other's hearts, making the bond stronger again.

Sadness engulfs you, like a huge cloud that dims the sun and robs you of your happiness. It slings around you, and grips your tightly.

You bit down on your lower lip, hoping to stop the tears before they can leave your eyes. You don't want to cry. Not yet. Not if maybe there can be a solution found for it all. You don't want to think about all the negative outcomes of this now — it is too soon, maybe things can go into a different direction…Maybe, just maybe.

A sudden touch on your knee startles you and you jerk up, eyes snapping open.

"No longer enjoying watching us spar?" Cassian asks with a smile on his face, his thumb brushing over your knee.

Tension of unspoken issues radiate between you two, and although Cassian tries to be his normal, casual self he can feel it as well.

You sit up, breathe in and move your hand over his. "I think we need to talk, Cassian."

Not Cass. Not my love. Not my mate. No — Cassian. It lands a blow to the general's gut and heart and he slowly dips his chin, nodding. "Yes, I think we do."

…

You gaze is cast downward, avoiding direct eye contact with your mate while you fiddle with your fingers. No one is talking as you on your bed, the door to your shared bedroom closed. The atmosphere is not bad, but somehow so very cold and tense.

You take a deep breath, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and sadness. "I feel there is a distance between us that has not always been there, like we're drifting apart."

You pull on a piece of skin on the side of your nail, eyes still not meeting his. "You've been spending so much time with other people lately. So much more time with them than with me. It has not always been like that, Cassian. I feel like there is something happening between us and I don't know what it is."

Cassian sighs loudly, feeling a pang of guilt, as he knows exactly that you are right. But there has just been so much to discuss, to organise, in the war camps, concerning the possible threat of Koschei, just everything. His defensive walls rise instinctively, knowing it is not entirely his fault that you have been spending so little time together lately. "I just had to do many things, take care of many things and organise them. It's not like I don't want to be with you."

"But that's the thing," you say, your voice tinged with frustration. "I thought we were a team, like you could include me in those things. I am your mate, your wife, your partner in everything. Lately, it doesn't feel like this at all anymore. It feels like I am going to lose you, Cassian."

The general of the Night Court armies looks away, struggling to find the right words. A shiver runs down his spine and cold spreads out inside of him, settling in his heart. "It was not intentional. I never meant to make you feel that way. I did not want to put unnecessary pressure on you."

You lift your head and shake it, finally meeting his gaze. "That is bullshit, we are team, Cassian. I t has always been the two of us — the two of us against the world."

"And it still is." Cassian's expression is pained as he keeps his gaze locked with you, reaching over but you pull your hand away.

"I am not sure about that anymore." "Y/N." His voice sounds like he is pleading. "Please, don't do this now." "Do what?" you snap, suddenly feeling like he is accusing you of something. Like you are the bad guy for addressing the issue your relationship is currently facing.

"Making this difficult." "I am not making anything difficult, Cassian." You shake your head vehemently. "I don't want us to drift further apart. We used to be so close, but now it feels like we're just two strangers living under the same roof. I want you as my mate, fully and completely, or not at all."

Cassian swallows thickly. The realisation of what you said hits him like a slap. He knows he has messed up with no longer including you. But he really just wanted to spare you all the problems and issues he is currently facing in Illyria. "You're right," he finally admits, his voice softer now, tinged with remorse. "I've been occupied a lot, did not include you in my things and decisions, and I'm sorry. I don't want us to drift apart either. I am sorry, my love."

Tears well in your eyes as you look at him, and draw in a deep inhale. My love.

"I will include you from now on, I will tell you things again. I just did not want to bother you with it all."

"Cassian, I am your mate. You don't bother me with these things."

He lowers his head, chin nearly meeting his chest, his shoulders lifting in sad shrug. "I know. But I overheard you talking to Feyre, saying you are worried about everything that is to come. I did not want to put my worries on your plate as well…"

This time it is you who reaches over, stroking your thumb over the back of his hand.

"You should have talked to me."

"I know." He huffs and lifts his head to look into your eyes. "I promise that from now on, I'll make more time for us and that I will share everything with you. You're the most important person in my life and I don't want to lose you. And I want you to be included in everything. You have to know that."

And you technically do, it has just changed in the past weeks. You nod slowly, but Cassian is not convinced. He flips his hand over and squeezes yours. "Please, Y/N. Please, forgive me and tell me that we can soon return to how close we were."

Some of the clouds and storm of your relationship clears and smile a little. "Yes, Cassian. We need to work on it…so that our relationship gets better again, but we will get there."

His arms slings around your shoulder and he pulls you to him, kissing the top of your head. "Yes, we will. Please, never forget how much I love you."

You can confront the issue together, the problems that caused the issues for the relationship, you just have to talk, just communicate and it will get better again. You love your mate so much, you love this bond so much, it will get better again, you know it.

You relish in his scent, his warmth, the hard press of his chest against the side of your body as you lean into him, your eyes closing. It feels so familiar, so good, and you have been longing for his touch and this closeness for so long. It has felt like torture, but hopefully you are on a good way now to heal your relationship.

"I love you too, Cass."

~~~~~~~ tags: @helhjertet @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @crushedcloudsx @brekkershadowsinger @girasoli-e-sorrisi @ignite-me @swifti-ed @cassiansbigwingspan @burningsnowleopard @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #cassian x you #cassian imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar #acosf

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climbthemountain2020 · 8 months ago

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Pages Turned (Nesta Week Day 2 - Metamorphosis)

Day 2 of @nestaarcheronweek

The sun was blinding on the Sidra as Nesta looked out from the balcony of the River House. Her dress swayed around her in the light breeze, swirling around her ankles as she looked out towards the distant mountains. As long as it had taken her to admit it, she truly considered this place her home. In fact, she could see her literal home from here, stretching across the great mountain face overlooking the city.

Maybe she could swindle the house into some lemon-peach tea and another slice of raspberry tart tonight.

She loved Velaris most this time of year, the flowers of early spring popping through the ground, signaling rebirth and things starting anew. She could see the vast gardens surrounding the eastern and back sides of the River House from this balcony. Elain had done a lovely job curating them all by hand years ago. As she grew more and more comfortable in her fae form, she had enchanted them to shift with the seasons, carefully selecting the colors to complement each other and parts of the garden to always be in bloom throughout the year. Nesta smiled to herself–her sister was a female of many talents.

Another warm light breeze pushed against her, causing her to sigh as the lovely scents of lemon and the sea pressed into her skin. She could smell a smattering of other scents below, the remnants of guests arriving for the ceremony taking place today. In amongst them she could just barely pluck out the scent of Cass, somewhere downstairs talking Az off a ledge, no doubt.

She’d only recently left the room where she’d been with all the other females all morning, pinning and zipping and tying and laughing. She’d left to grab some snacks and finish her own preparations for her role as the “Valkyrie of Honor”, as Cass had teasingly called it, neither mate willing to surrender her to the other side for the ceremony.

Her hair still needed styling, so she turned back to the guest room, stepping carefully across the threshold from the porch and sitting primly at the vanity. She’d brought some jeweled pins specifically for the occasion, silver and dotted with tiny blue gems. She laughed to herself at the little joke.

As she looked in the mirror and began to twist and pull her long strands of hair into place, she thought, not for the first time, how thankful she was to have managed all this–to even be here at all.

Nesta had never been one for reflection, choosing instead to plow steadfastly ahead no matter the circumstances, obstacles, or otherwise in her way. She found there had been little time in her life to ruminate on the “what ifs” for whatever reason, and ultimately, she’d mostly broken herself of the very human habit. Even when it hurt, even when she fought tooth and nail, even when it felt as though her still-beating heart had been torn from her chest, Nesta always ended up where she needed to be and not a moment too soon.

Sure, she would have liked to experience a bit less of the heartbreak life had doled out to her, but in her time as an immortal, she’d come to grips with much of that. There would never be a right time for hardships–of course not–but Nesta was at a point now where she genuinely liked who she was for the first time since she could remember. It wasn’t because others had given her approval, it wasn’t because she’d done “enough” to earn her peace–Nesta just genuinely liked herself.

She was, dare she even think it, happy.

The Firstborn.

Nesta might have been happy as a child, but the memories were too hazy to recall. She didn’t remember a time before Elain, barely remembered a time before Feyre, but she remembered her lessons. From the time she could walk, she was in classes: etiquette, ballroom, needlepoint, pianoforte, singing, modern languages, and painting.

Her grandmother would watch as she would plié, jeté, arabesque around the echoing room, thrumming her sharply with a switch any time her footwork was off and harshly adjusting her posture until her chin pointed to the heavens. She knew better than to fight back, knew better than to complain, knew the only way it would ever end was if she did as she was told.

She remembered being jealous of Elain having more freedom and Feyre being able to be loose and free. For Elain, being around others came so naturally. She was outgoing, friendly, and warm. Feyre was wild, always romping about the woods and the streams and the nearby village, covered in dirt and cursing. Nesta wondered all the time why she’d been born first. What had the universe decided that rendered their order so concrete that she’d be eternally doomed to watching her two little sisters live the lives she craved? She remembered seeing them from the windows of the dance studio, wondering why she couldn’t be outside, too.

Nesta, your power is within your station, and your station means absolutely nothing without skill. Your beauty is a weapon–your social skills a knife. If you don’t sharpen it, you’ll be as worthless as anyone else.

So they practiced, and practiced, and practiced until Nesta’s toes bled. Until the smile on her face was as shallow and cracked as a dry lake bed, but muscle memory would deliver it on a silver platter regardless.

At night, when there was no one left to hear, she would cry, her shoulders heaving in the quiet dark, and she would dream every night about flying away from this place, far over the distant mountains and streams. Far away from her mother and grandmother and expectations of a life that would never be lived for herself anyway.

When Nesta’s grandmother died, she wasn’t sad, but she mourned appropriately. When her mother was taken not even two years later, she hated the spark of hope that rang through her chest. Freedom. She could have that freedom.

It didn’t last long before she realized what it meant.

Her father lost their money, her sisters lost their joy, and she lost the last flare of hope as she realized the sacrifices that she would be making. Had she been happy before, then? In that brief moment in between? Hope and happiness weren’t the same, but that small glance of freedom had tasted so sweet. She started having those dreams again of flying–great wings, almost bright red in the light of the sun, gliding through the sky and carrying her to somewhere better, something greater than this.

In those dreams, at least, she could pretend to be happy.

The Sister.

When Feyre was taken, the dreams changed. She was no longer flying high, but being held down, a great beast that shifted between the form of a wolf and a bear and Tomas Mandray in a barn. She woke up in cold sweats in the manor that was haunted with ghosts no one but her could see. As Elain bloomed under this new money, her father became the person she remembered, Nesta withdrew, remembering her mother’s words and sharpening herself once again to be used as a weapon.

The world moved on, but she stayed–the only one who seemed to recognize this for all it was.

So she hardened herself further, and she walked into town with a bag of dirty fae money, threw it at the feet of a mercenary trading pelts, and demanded to be taken to the wall. Three days and nights they trekked through the terrifying woods, her hair standing on end the entirety of the trip. She swore she heard voices whispering quietly from behind the trees. She wondered if, by the time she arrived, Feyre would even still be living.

Each night, she fell asleep clutching a knife to her chest and staring at the stars until her eyes could no longer hold themselves open. She dreamed of a beautiful golden cage, a city by a river, and a low, red glow of light while a man cried nearby. The sadness overwhelmed her so vividly that she woke up feeling devastated all over again.

The trip to the wall meant nothing in the end. They couldn’t find a way through, and so they repeated the whole journey over again, the fear turning to icy resolve in her heart. Elain and her father might not remember, but she would.

Brick by brick on the journey back, Nesta resurrected her walls. They had their money back, but in the end, her circumstances had not changed. She would still be expected to marry, still be forced into the life she was bred for. In the end, Nesta was always made to be a weapon of society meant to serve her family and then another, so she’d ready herself for a new kind of hardness in her demeanor; she would give herself new safe holds within her mind and heart.

When she’d finally seen her sister again, Feyre had been changed–different–and so had she. Feyre was determined and in love, a feeling Nesta had long since given up on. And Nesta was stone cold–her resolve liquifying in her veins like glacial ire. But Feyre was home, and when she painted with Nesta, the patience in her voice nearly tore Nesta to shreds.

She steeled her face, held her lips thin, but her heart, or what was left of it, shattered to bits, leaving her a fragmented mess of nothingness in its wake as she said goodbye yet again to the littlest sister she’d been expected to protect and constantly failed.

The Weapon.

In the end, Nesta was made into a weapon. Not for society, not for a husband, but a true, honest weapon. She’d had everything taken from her when she’d thought there had been nothing left to take, and as she sunk into the icy depths of a childhood fairytale turning into a living nightmare, it tried to take some more.

All her years of training, all the words about her sharpness, every single time someone had called her hard, difficult, cold, unfeeling–she channeled it all. She let her unending rage fuel her, scraping and struggling and demanding.

As the Cauldron took from her, she took back.

Disembodied voices of all ages and genders screamed around her in the dark, fathomless water, but she pulled and screamed and yanked and shrieked until the powers gave way and silence took over. She floated, thoughtless and ephemeral, until the waters began to ebb and flow and she crested to a light above her, the new power humming in her veins as her fingers found arched ears and her eyes found him.

He who had come into her home when she was cold and hard and angry at the world, preening and strutting like some insipid bird-brained idiot. He who called her Nes instead of Nesta. He who acted as though he was utterly indestructible, drawing sneers from her lips as he smiled smugly at her from across the room. He who had taken shot after shot of magic to protect her, shredding his beautiful wings in the process. He whose wings were illuminated by the ward-breaking magic behind him, lighting up and glowing red and stealing her breath as she recognized them from her dreams.

Truly, she didn’t mind being fae. She hadn’t wanted it, hated that the choice had been taken from her like all choices had, but for the first time in her life, Nesta felt powerful. She felt a power in her veins to match the power she’d felt in her stubborn will, her anger, her rage. She liked the arched ears, she liked that she wouldn’t age, she liked that people were afraid of what she could do.

All this scattered to ashes when she’d been ready to die with Cassian, when she took the head off the king.

Power meant nothing to her if it couldn’t save him.

Afterward, when everyone was okay, she thought she might ride the wave of that power forever–might embrace the image of her beheading the king and add it to her collection of things that made her feel strong. But instead, when she looked at her father’s burning body, all she heard was his neck cracking over and over and her steely resolve shattered like glass. All she saw was Cassian being blown from the sky, ceasing to exist as she called his name, and every defense she’d ever built scattered like dandelions in the wind.

Even with all the suffering–even with all the power–she could never protect those she cared about. The only thing she could do for herself was push them all away so it didn’t hurt so much. All she could do was try to feel nothing at all. She was a monster. The words echoed in her head.

I loved you from the first moment I held you in my arms. And I am… I am so sorry, Nesta - my Nesta. I am so sorry, for all of it.

Nesta–my Nesta.

My Nesta.

She’d done this. She’d pushed him away. He’d saved their lives, and it didn’t excuse the years before, but she’d never told him. She’d only tortured him. She’d never told him, and now she never would.

Now, Nesta only dreamed of fires and the cracking of bone.

The Wreck.

Nesta had gone to the beach once as a child. Her mother had allowed her and Elain to swim, though Feyre had been too little. Nesta remembered how the sand pulled in the water from beneath her feet, coming and going with each push and pull of the waves. She remembered being in awe of the power in front of her, the strength in those waves. She remembered being worried if she went under, she may never come back up.

That’s what it felt like in Velaris. Everything was blurry around her, the sounds and sights and smells muffled despite her senses being sharper than they’d ever been before. She felt like she was being pulled under those waves, and every time she tried to come back up for air, something pushed her back beneath.

Cassian tried to speak with her, but every time he did she couldn’t see anything but her body draped over his, throat raw and soul willing to die with him on that battlefield.

Feyre tried to talk to her, but every time she did, all she could see were her father’s features on the face of a fae, his neck snapping like a branch in a storm.

She tried to talk herself out of it, but every day was torture. She couldn’t bathe because it reminded her of the Cauldron. She couldn’t eat because she felt too ill. She couldn’t talk to anyone because her voice might crack, and if they asked her about it, the tight leash she held might snap and she would never get it back in hand.

So Nesta returned to her roots, building that wall up piece by piece until it was even stronger than before.

She spent her nights in her apartment, alone and filling the void with everything she could. Alcohol to numb her pain and quiet her thoughts, gambling to distract her, men–males–to ease the loneliness that ached down to her very bones. It wasn’t enough, it was never enough, but it was all she had.

She knew she could seek out her sister, knew she could even seek out Cassian, but then she’d have to face it all, and she couldn’t. She couldn’t even contemplate the possibility.

But sometimes, at night, as the males snored by her side in a bed that was too cold, she imagined it was Cassian she’d brought home, his hands warm and broad on her body, his chest pressed to her back, his lips roaming her neck. Sometimes, she pictured it was him as she cried, leaned against the door to the bathroom as she let the tears fall where no one else could possibly see.

“It’s okay, Nes. It’s all going to be okay.”

She wanted to believe it, but she didn’t. Nesta didn’t dream anymore.

The Valkyrie.

Nesta wasn’t expecting the recovery when it came. She wasn’t expecting to recover at all.

In fact, the first thing she felt outside of her own despair was rage. Rage and wrath and fury that everyone else was given their space to grieve as they saw fit. Everyone but her, and only because she was embarrassing Feyre.

Everyone had given Elain time to be a useless, depressed, ghost of a person. Everyone allowed her to kick Lucien away like a mongrel on the street. But no, not Nesta. Not the mate of a member of their elite friend group. Not the sister who refused to bend for them.

The world had taken enough from her, and she wasn’t going to let some well-dressed bat and his friends pressure her into feeling the things that she’d carefully shoved away.

But then they did anyway. Every time Nesta thought there was nothing left to take, something else was taken.

Buried in her rage and ignoring her grief, however, she had found something she hadn’t been looking for–kinship. Understanding.

Gwyn and Emerie had not been expected, but for the first time in her life, it felt like she’d been given something instead of forced into giving it away. They understood her in a way that her own sisters never had. They didn’t expect anything of her except for her to wake up and face the day with them as they did themselves. They were all healing in their own way until one day they realized they had been healing together.

Strangely, finding her chosen sisters did not push her farther away from her own. She found, instead, that she respected her sisters and their choices in a whole new light. In learning to give and accept love in the way she’d never done before, she saw how they’d been set up to fail from the start by their family, by their dynamic.

Breaking free from it all had allowed Nesta to heal and see things with new eyes. Knowing that it hadn’t only been her doing everything she could to survive, but her sisters too, let her give freely what she’d withheld so fervently from others, but most of all from herself: forgiveness.

Finding a purpose had fulfilled Nesta in ways she’d never experienced, and finding it with people she loved made the victory so much sweeter. For once, the things she built up brick by brick were not her walls, but her fortitude, her bravery, her trust, and her openness. She found she liked the feeling of pushing herself into something uncomfortable and new, and she stopped leaving claw marks on every part of her she’d had to leave behind.

When Nesta began to dream again, she was afraid that she would return to those nightmares: Cassian injured, her father dying, the fathomless depths of the Cauldron. She wondered if she’d now be greeted by Cassian with a knife, Briallyn with the crown, the swords coming down on her again and again on Ramiel as she fought to make sure her sisters survived.

Instead, when she dreamed, she saw white ribbons, her nephew, and a family that she chose for herself. She was dreaming of wings in the skies again, soft hands on her as the glow of the sun and the siphons bathed her in a warm red glow, and the low words rumbling in her ear and wrapping straight around her immortal heart.

“Hello, Nes.”

The Mate.

Nesta remembered the final step, allowing her guard down enough to let Cassian in to stay. She fought the urge to push him out, to keep that space in her heart silent and cold as it had always been. But his warmth and his joy and his laugh and his love found their way in, nestling within her ribs like a cat in a ray of sun.

She found, at the end of the day, it was impossible to not love Cass. And as much as she’d insisted they hadn’t been well matched, she found every single part of him complemented every single part of her.

Once she allowed herself to love and be loved in return, she was surprised to find that her default actually wasn’t cold and alone. In fact, Nesta found she loved to be held, loved to wake up with that heat at her back, loved to feel his strong hands on her, always–at meals, at training, in passing, and at night. She loved the steadiness of him, of her mate.

The Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death were only soft for each other and those they loved, and that was how it would remain.

Nesta looked out again to the lovely mountains of Velaris, the Sidra glittering below in the mid-afternoon sun. She could hear the chatter on the other side of the house as everyone prepared for the mating ceremony. She’d been organizing and helping to set this up for months, and she was not about to be late to see her work come to fruition. She was sure Cass was already downstairs socializing.

As if she’d summoned him, his booming laugh bounded through the halls of the house, and she couldn’t help but grin as she pressed one last pin into her hair.

A quiet knock on the door before it opened had her turning in the chair.

“Nesta? We’re all just about set to go. You ready?” Feyre had poked her head through the door. “Oh, you look lovely!”

Nesta blushed. Even after all these years, it was hard to accept compliments so freely from her sister.

“Yes, all set! Just finishing up my hair. Is Az shitting his pants yet?”

“Not quite, but he is pacing a hole in the floor. Cassian has been trying to slow him down.” She responded with a giggle, holding out a hand for Nesta to take.

“Well, we’d best not keep them waiting.” She took Feyre’s hand in hers, the other supporting her swollen belly as she came to stand. She rubbed a hand over it, feeling a swift kick in return. It never failed to make her soul feel like it was about to take off over the peaks of Velaris.

She smiled, feeling the tiny winged babe wriggle around beneath her ribs. It wouldn’t be much longer now and they’d have this little one in their arms. The thought of Cass with their child snuggled into his bare chest while she listened to him tell them stories made her heart swell with warmth, and she suddenly couldn’t wait to get down the stairs to see him again.

The Mother.

Biggest thank you to @cauldronblssd, @witch-and-her-witcher, and @tunaababee for the beta reads! I love youuuu

#nesta archeron #nesta acotar #nestaweek2024 #nesta week day 2: metamorphosis #nessian #nesta x cassian #character study

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seenoversundown · 2 months ago

Text

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Twenty-Five

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut (you know the drill) Fluff, Mild Anxiety, Some sad themes momentarily, A LOT of tears, Jake is in it so the uncomfortably timed jokes are also in it, and it's just painfully cute and sweet and fluffy.

Smut Warnings: Fingering (f receiving) a slight depiction of masturbation (m), sexy phrases being moaned, and last but not least we are practicing safe sex!! (wrap that shit up guys)

Word Count: 7.1k

Summary: After Charlotte leaves the Anniversary Party at the bar, she spends a bit contemplating her choices while she packs and ultimately comes to her decision.

Author's Note: Hiii 🥹

I can't believe this is the last chapter, it feels like we just started this last week. I really hope this is the ending you were rooting for, because it feels very fitting.

I'm going to stick another note at the end to not spoil anything before you read.

Happy Thursday (and Halloween) 🖤

Sea Of Love - Cat Power "Come with me, my love, To the sea, The sea of love."

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“Drive safe, Red.”

“Will do, Captain.”

The second he walked away from my car, the tears I’d been choking back came out, and unfortunately, I hadn’t stopped the entire drive back to the house to finish grabbing everything, which seemed silly because I could have packed before I went to see him. I spent the whole day trying to decide if I should even go, with breaks where I would just cry because I couldn’t believe that I couldn’t just spit out what happened.

The way he still insisted on walking me to my car speaks volumes about him, and I really didn’t know what I expected, but I was mentally prepared for him not to want to talk to me after everything. I don’t deserve him by any means.

I couldn’t stop myself from hugging him. I knew he wasn’t going to try anything because he’s always concerned about whether or not I’m comfortable, and I’m sure he didn’t want to take any chances of getting rejected.

9:20 p.m.

I pull into the driveway, crying harder as I put my car in park. I don’t want to go home. I should have just stayed there. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to go inside. I set my bag and phone down on a chair in our kitchen, knowing that if I had my phone with me, I’d never get anything packed.

I wander around the house, silently crying as I grab my things and shove them into my bag. Changing out of my jeans and into some leggings, hoping that maybe being more comfortable will help. Even though I know the only thing that would help right now is him.

Knowing that he came here so we could still spend the night together is making this worse. The way he so happily changed our plans and drove out here. I sit down on the couch, thinking about how he somehow made my catching up on emails more enjoyable. Rewarding me with kisses every time I finished one, I don’t think I’ve ever worked more efficiently than knowing I get to smooch a cute boy every time I hit ‘send.’

He was so sweet when I started to fall asleep, wanting to make sure I was comfortable. I was a little surprised when he said he would stay since he wouldn’t be able to check on the bar. Feeling how warm he was when he got into bed with me. Granted, I also was teasing him as he took his pants off. Quietly laughing at the thought, even with tears rolling down my cheeks.

He always has a way of making things better, even when he isn’t here. When we weren’t together, he’d send me random things he was thinking about throughout his day or asking how my day was going. I don’t think we’ve gone more than a few hours without talking since I called him that night.

My throat tightened, and I remembered how he reacted to Cass. The way he immediately just pulled me into his arms, letting me take my time to explain. He fully just listened to whatever I had to tell him like he genuinely wanted to know her. I just know that if she could meet him, she would absolutely adore him. Especially considering how he treats me, she would be planning our wedding already.

I walk through the house one last time to make sure I have everything. I should just go back. My stomach turns at the thought. I don’t even know what I’d say; I’ll just text him tomorrow—shutting the lights off as I walk back towards the kitchen.

I bring out the bulk of my stuff, shoving it all into my back seat. Quickly walking back inside to grab my bag and lock it up, my chest hurts as I pull the door shut behind me.

I grab my phone from my bag to check the time, and his name is on my Lock Screen.

11:02 p.m.

Jacob: hi, just wanted to say thank you again for everything. I don’t know if you’re still driving or not, so don’t feel like you have to reply right away

Jacob: but I’m still down to keep you company tomorrow, if you are. 🖤

My eyes are full of tears when I laugh—my sweet boy. Dropping my phone into the driver's seat, I stand there with my face in my hands, letting out the sob that had been waiting. I need him. It was like I needed something to tell me that it was the right choice to just go back to him, and that was enough.

I look up at the moon, “Cass… thank you.” My voice shakes as I say it, but god, it feels good to get it out. “You were right. I needed to find my Scott, and now, I just wish you were here to meet him.”

I have to go get him.

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My heart races as I drive down the dark roads, waiting until I get a little closer to Portland for more street lamps. But as I’m driving, I swear every song that comes on just makes my mind wander.

Hearing him call me honey for the first time in his office. His arms pulled me in so fast I didn’t have time to think about it. Talking me down or trying to, at least. I felt so safe with him, and I had only met him once before. Something about him was so comforting in that moment, whether it was the way he knew I was about to break and brought me into a quiet space to have my moment. Or the fact that he didn’t let go until I was ready.

The look in his eyes as he wiped my tears away, gently holding the sides of my face like he thought I would crumble if he added any more pressure. And to think that was just a glimmer of how thoughtful he is.

I’ve never met a man who just wants to do things like he does. He walked me to my car every night when I was at the bar, opening my door for me like he was straight out of the fifties or something. Always asked me to let him know when I made it home; it was a soft level of protection that I didn’t know I needed.

Standing there next to the water, the street lamps barely gave us enough light to see each other, but the way his lips looked and how he kept glancing at mine.. I knew I had to take my chance.

“Is this okay?”

His smile into me as we kissed made it hard for me not to fall for him. The way he so sweetly giggled against me. Keeping me close to him because it was cold out, but not wanting to stop. Oh, the first of many ‘one more’ kisses. Which always meant another ten minutes trying to escape him, not that I ever really wanted them to end. I’m almost positive that both of us genuinely started contemplating quitting our jobs to hide away together a handful of times.

Going out of his way to surprise me so I could still go to Salem. Taking a day off, even if I had to badger him a little about not checking in constantly. It was for his own good. It was so adorable how he just happily followed me, looking at all the haunted sites and letting me tell him all the history as we walked around. I suppose it helps that he’s definitely into those types of things, considering the pirate knowledge.

His sweet face turned red when the girl told us our aura colors were pretty compatible. But I can’t blame her for assuming when he grabbed my hand while she explained them to us. I knew it was because of what she was saying, and he just wanted to make sure I was okay.

I’ve simply never met a man who understood emotions like he does. I don’t understand how considering he grew up with two brothers, he’s definitely the odd one out of the three. The way he can stay so calm in most situations is beyond me. Even tonight, when I showed up, he seemed nervous for a second, but the moment I said something, he came around.

I could park right outside the bar because there was nobody out, but I decided to park around the corner so I could mentally prepare.

Just see if he’s still in the bar, and then if not, he should be at home. I don’t think he’s supposed to see his parents until tomorrow.

Shutting off the engine, I sit there staring at the sky. Ever since he pointed out the moon that night, I’ve felt comfort in it. Whether or not Cass can hear me, I will keep talking to her through it. I’d like to think she knows.

I step out, feeling the wind against my skin, shit- it’s cold. I start walking towards the bar, taking a deep breath before turning the corner. I pulled out my phone one more time, just to make sure he hadn’t said anything while I was driving here. No notifications.

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11:35 p.m.

I round the corner, and he’s already standing outside as if he knew I would come back. I see him putting his phone into his pocket and looking down at his boots. It feels surreal to see him for some reason. He finally looks over as I get closer; I can see him trying to fight the smile growing on his face.

As I walk up to him, I whisper, “Hi.”

“Hey, you,” he whispers back, his voice alone made my eyes well up again. I look down at my feet, hoping to swallow the emotions, but fail miserably. Here goes nothing.

“Um,” I let out. I feel my lip quiver, so I tug it in with my teeth a little.

His voice was quiet, asking, “What’s wrong?” as he gently tilted my face up to look at him, which only made the tears flow faster.

“I don’t want this to be over, Jacob,” I choke out, pointing between the two of us. I have cried in front of this man far too many times in the last three weeks.

He sweetly wipes the tears before he finally says, “Hun,” Pulling me into him and placing a big kiss against my forehead. “It doesn’t have to be over.”

“I just want to be able to kiss you and be with you,“ I ramble out. All of the feelings I’ve been holding back started falling out of me.

He shakes his head slowly and calmly tells me, “I want that more than you know.”

“I don’t want to feel like we have to be quiet about it.”

“We don't have to.”

“Jake, I just,” I start, my voice sounded a little panicked at this point. “I have stronger feelings for you than I anticipated and—”

He quickly tells me, “I promise those are most definitely mutual, honey.”

“It scares me a little,” I admit quietly.

“Hey–” he cuts me off, “I will have you however you’ll let me,” holding my face in his hands, and then he says, “I told you before- whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m interested in anyone else,” I start, “Because I only—.” My brain is moving faster than I can move my mouth while still trying to calm down from crying when he leans in. –Want you. The most relieving kiss I’ve ever felt; time slowed the second his lips met mine. My hands find their spot on his stomach; just having extra contact with him helps me slow down.

He pulls away, and his hands are still holding the sides of my face as he looks at me. He looks like he wants to say something, but I watch him swallow hard before he finally caves. I feel like I know what’s coming.

“Say the word, and I’ll forget about the ‘friends who maybe sleep together' thing,” he whispers. “I would do anything to call you mine.” His face is still so close to mine as we stare at each other for a second in comfortable silence. There is only one right answer in my mind.

“Please.”

His lips find mine quickly, smiling into me like a kid on Christmas morning. My heart pounds as we practically relive our first kiss. Not knowing how to stop, giggling as we take turns placing little kisses everywhere.

“You’re sure you want this?” He asks, his hands still holding my jaw. “Like absolutely positive?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure about something,” I tell him, a small laugh sneaking out. He stares at me for a second before looking up; his eyes close before he shakes his head a few times. His arms fall, sliding around my waist. When he looks back at me, his eyes are glistening. My hands quickly grabbed him, wiping his tears as they finally fell, “Aw, baby.”

“I feel ridiculous,” he giggles, trying to sniff the emotions away.

“I’ve cried enough times in front of you— I think you’ve earned it.”

He looks up again, letting out a small laugh, and then looks back at me. His hands grabbed mine, holding onto them tightly when his adorable little voice wavered, telling me, “I just really thought I had lost any chance with you.” He breathes in a shaky breath and, on the exhale, says, “And I’m just so happy that I get to keep you to myself now.” A few tears sneak out as he tells me. He really is the most precious man alive. I steal one of my hands back from him, gently wiping his face again.

We stood there giggling like teenagers when the realization hit me, “I get to say you’re my boyfriend now.”

“Mhm,” He hums against me. “I’m all yours.”

Kissing him a few times before giggling against his lips, “Jacob, I’m your girlfriend.. we’re dating.” He just smiles against me, and I can’t stop the excitement from coming out as I bounce back and forth in his arms. “Did you ever think this would have happened?”

“Honey, you have felt like a fever dream to me for three weeks.” He chuckles to himself, “No, I never thought I would be lucky enough to find someone like you.”

After a few minutes of bliss, I finally have to come out with the truth, all of them.

“I want to tell you something,” I tell him. “Well.. actually, a couple of things.”

“Go for it,” he says; his smile might be permanent. Let me start with the least important thing.

“Cass made me promise that if I found some boy with long hair and nerdy interests, I had to try,” I admit. “I just didn’t know how to handle it when I found you because I haven’t been in a ton of relationships— but you made it so… easy.”

“I’ve never been more relieved to be a long-haired nerd in my life.” He giggles at himself, kissing my cheek when he mumbles, “I hope I make her proud.”

I don’t know how I could cry more at this point, but my voice shakes when I tell him, “Oh, she would have loved you.”

He tugs me back in for a hug; I just snuggle into him for a minute. Naturally, he would say something like that.

“What else is there?” He asks quietly.

“Well..um,” I hesitated. Just spit out, Char. “I have to go home, like up-north-home, or I’m going to get fired.”

His eyebrows pull together, letting out a small laugh before finally asking, “You? How would you get fired?”

“I sort of have been lying to my boss to be .. here,” I tell him, dodging his eye contact. It’s quiet for a beat before he finally speaks up.

“Wait– is that why you were so upset?”

I nod, “Mhm..he called when I was at Quinn’s, and I had been freaking out since because I was .. scared to tell you.”

“Oh, hun. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” his smile fades quickly.

“No, I’m sorry,” I tell him, grabbing his hands, “You didn’t know, and I was acting like a dick to you.”

“I still wish I hadn’t panicked so fast,” he says, the look on his face making my heart hurt. “I’d never say anything like that to you ever again. I thought I’d lost you as soon as it came out.”

The tears prick my eyes as he tells me. It makes even more sense now– he thought his heart was about to get shattered. The thought of not keeping him around had never crossed my mind; I would have figured out a way.

“I knew you didn’t mean it, baby,” I told him. “I forgave you the second you started crying.”

He pulls my hands up, kissing across my knuckles, letting out a long breath. Looking back at me, “So, if you have to go back home, what do we want to do?”

The way he says ‘we’ could make me cry.

“Well,” I start. “I don’t mind driving here. And I typically only work during the week, so I could come to you right after I clock out on Fridays.”

“I will never say no to that,” he tells me. Quickly following up with, “But I can also come to you during the week since the bar isn’t as busy.” His hands gently squeezed mine.

“Are you going to be able to handle not being here?” I tease him.

“Oh, shut up,” he laughs; oh, I love that laugh. “I’m gonna need to get over it at some point. At least I’ll have you as a distraction.”

I just hum back, “Mhmm.”

“We’ll make it work, hun,” he says; he sounds so sure of it.

“You really don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he tells me, “I’ll do whatever I need to if it means getting to be with you.”

My hands hold the sides of his neck as I kiss him a few times, whispering, “You’re unreal.” Enjoying the butterflies as he giggles against my lips, finding it increasingly more difficult to focus every time I kiss him. I need to tell him first, and then we can have fun. I get a little chill just thinking about getting to spend the night with him after this. FOCUS CHAR.

“Um, there’s still more,” I spit out. “I sort-of-maybe-kind of lied to you.” Kissing his cheek a couple of times before looking at him with an uncomfortable smile.

He lets out a laugh, “Really just getting it all out there, are we?”

“I can’t start a relationship with you and not just tell you all of this!”

“Whatever you need to do, hun,” he laughs. “Go on.”

“I didn’t need to be here at all,” I start. “Melody could have just done everything in like a day and your paperwork had been sitting in my car already settled for the past two weeks.”

“I know.”

“What– You know?” I stared at him, my eyebrows pulled in immediately, wholly lost in how he knew what I was doing.

“Of course, I know,” he giggles. “Who do you think helped Josh get certified, honey?”

My mouth hangs open for a second, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well, honestly— it took a few nights of you being here for me to realize, but also,” he laughs, his hands finding mine. “You really think I’m gonna out the most beautiful girl on wanting to be around me–” he pauses, looking at me with his eyebrows raised before shaking his head with a quiet, “Absolutely not.”

I can’t get anything out before he quickly adds, “I honestly had just forgotten about it when I hired Mel, so when you asked, I just assumed it was about to screw me more.”

“Wait— so, you just.. let me interrupt your schedule for like two weeks to vaguely help train Mel?” I ask quietly.

He nodded quickly at that, “Gladly.”

“But.. that’s so..” I hesitate.

“I think it paid off,” He lightly tips my chin up to meet his gaze, “Don’t you?” Leaning in and leaving a small kiss on my lips.

I can’t stop the giggle that sneaks out when I whisper, “Think you’re so smooth, huh?”

“Is it working?”

“I mean, you got me,” I laugh. “So, I guess I’m gonna have to say yes.”

Taking every chance I have to kiss him, like I’ve been deprived for so long. A bit dramatic of me, but how am I supposed not to kiss him at this point?

He shyly asks, “Do you still need to leave?”

“I can leave in the morning,” I tell him. “They can survive a couple of hours tomorrow without me.”

“So.. you’ll stay with me?” He asks, biting his lip subtly.

I giggle at how cute he is before whispering, “Yes, baby.”

“Thank the lord,” he lets out, pulling me into him.

My arms slid around his neck as snowflakes decorated us slowly. Pressing kiss after kiss onto his face and lips, dimly lit by the street lamp nearby. Fighting the urge to cry again, holding the back of his neck, I kissed his cupid's bow; the tears that had been threatening to fall made their escape. Pulling away, I start to lean back so I can compose myself again. Seeing the tip of his nose is red, and I can’t shake the chill in the air. Stopping this moment feels wrong, but I cave.

“Can we go inside? It’s freezing,” I asked, scooting a little closer to him. I traced my finger down his nose, tapping its tip a few times.

“In a minute—”

With no hesitation, his arm wraps around my waist, pressing me up against him. His free hand quickly wipes the tears away from my cheeks. I watch his eyes dance between my eyes and my mouth like he always does. His hands found my jaw, and just like our first kiss, he lingered a breath away before he whispered, “One more.”

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The moment his bedroom door shuts, I can’t stop myself. My hands pulled his face to mine, and his lips pressed into mine like we hadn’t seen each other in months. Our breathing is already heavy, and we’ve hardly made it past the threshold.

“I know I told you, but” he pauses to kiss me. “I’m so sorry for everything, and I promise—never again.” He litters my face with little pecks.

I slide my hands into his, pulling him towards his bed until I feel the frame hit the back of my knees. Tilting my head slightly as I lean into him, kissing him again.

“No, I’m sorry,” I tell him quietly. “I shouldn’t have lied to you— about any of it.” He leans forward, pressing his lips against my forehead a few times.

Sitting back on his bed, I grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him to me. Both of us smiled into each other; I couldn't stop myself from holding his jaw.

“Move back for me, honey.”

I never want him to call me anything else. I move myself up his bed, laying back on his pillow. He follows suit, watching his necklace swing as he crawls over me, making my mouth water.

The feeling of his body pressed to mine when I slid my arms around his neck, pulling him against me in a hug. Nothing could have stopped me from kissing the side of his neck a few times.

“This feels fake,” I tell him quietly, letting out a small giggle.

He kisses the side of my head before pulling back to look at me, “It does feel different.” Tucking the hair behind my ear as he just stared at me, the slight smile on his lips.

His eyes gazed down for a second before meeting mine again when he leaned in, his lips finding my bottom one. Every kiss felt more desperate until my hands found their way into his hair. I could see his chest moving from how heavy his breath was.

His hips shift against me, and it sends a little wave of pleasure through me, letting out a small ‘mmm’ into his mouth, and I can feel the smirk on his face.

He rolls his hips into me again, pulling another quiet moan out of me. I grab his bottom lip gently with my teeth, giggling as I let it go. His eyes are still closed, but that lethal smile of his beams at me.

“Hi, baby,” I whisper. I felt butterflies when he finally opened his eyes to look at me.

“Mmm.. honey,” he mumbled back. His hand slid down to the waistband of my leggings, hooking his finger into it. “May I?”

I lean up, kissing him slowly before telling him, “Please.” His hands waste no time, sliding my leggings off and tossing them on the floor. He lightly drags his fingers up the inside of my thighs, letting his right hand timidly run over the damp fabric.

“Oh?” He says quietly, popping an eyebrow up at me.

It’s hard not to blush when he’s hovered over me, looking the way he does. Sliding the fabric over, he rests his hand on me for a minute as he kisses my cheek.

I feel his finger as he teases me, only for a second before letting it slip into me. Even just his middle finger alone makes me fall apart. Slowly pumping it into me, making my body tingle with every time he grazes that one spot.

“You’re so pretty.”

I let out another ‘mmm,’ watching his eyes light up at the sound. He starts moving his hand a little faster, and the way his palm is pushing against my clit is making my head spin.

Snaking my hands down, I unbutton the rest of his shirt. Good lord— he’s so fine.. wow I’m so fucking lucky. Moving to undo his pants, when he giggles softly.

“Is that what you want?” He whispers, and even hushed, his voice makes me melt.

I nod a few times, “Please, baby.” I pulled the zipper on his jeans as far as I could reach before just letting my hand run over him.

Watching him slide his shirt and jeans off, I swear I can feel my pupils dilate. I’ve never been so attracted to a man in my life. He leans back over me, in just his tight boxers, feeling my thighs tense at the sight.

I just want to touch him constantly, letting my hands run over his shoulders before moving to his chest. His skin is always so warm and soft, and it takes all my willpower not to kiss every inch of him.

I’m still not used to the way his hair will brush against me when we’re in positions like this. But— he is so sexy when he pushes it out of his face, flipping it to one side. Or pulling it back before he goes down on me like he did the night we were drunk. I hope he knows how gorgeous he really is.

The way his eyes light up when he slides my sweater off will never get old. He’s always so gentle with everything, even when he slides my bralette over my head. His hands so softly grab at my tits, grazing his thumbs over my nipples. It’s honestly really adorable how much he likes that they’re pierced.

Littering kisses over my collarbones and then slowly working his way down until he hovers over one of my nipples, letting his tongue lead the kiss. Watching his plump lips wrap around it, a man surely doesn’t need lips like his, but lord, am I glad I’m the one he’s putting them on. It never seems like it could get better, and then he moves to the other side, and I get to relive it.

He sits up after a minute and reaches over to his nightstand, pulls out a condom, and quickly sets it next to me. Leaning back down, he starts peppering my neck and collarbones with little pecks, running his hand up my side.

“Babe, you know you don’t have to—” I whisper, glancing over at it.

He holds my chin, giving me a slow kiss and giggling to himself as he pulls away, finally saying, “Hun, as much as I’d love not to— I’m not taking any more risks right now.” I can’t stop the laugh that sneaks out of me.

“Plus, this is easier to clean up since Josh is down the hall,” he mumbles quickly, that sweet little smirk of his coming back. Letting my fingers lightly drag down his sides and over his hip bones as I look up at him.

He slides his boxers off, kneeling between my legs. He starts to stroke himself as he looks at me. My jaw falls open at the sight.

“What?” He asks through a laugh. You’re so fucking hot. Not only am I able to see his chest and stomach in front of me, but the way his arm is flexing as it moves and how his hair falls around his face when he looks down.

My brain stalls trying to answer because seeing how his hand is wrapped around his cock has me thoroughly captivated. He grabs the condom, ripping the foil, and quickly rolling it down the length of him; I’ve never seen a man make that sexy, but there’s a first for everything.

He leans back down, lining himself up with me and slowly pushing in. We both let our little moans at the feeling. He bottoms out in me and just sits there for a second, looking at me with his hands cradling my head, when he whispers, “I missed you.”

“Oh,” slips out. I pull him in, kissing his face as he starts to move his hips. Gently rocking them into me, fully engulfed in the moment, we take turns pressing kisses into each other. This kind of sex feels different.

Being able to kiss him and run my hands all over him, just enjoying the feeling of being so close. Holding eye contact while he pushes himself into me slowly, like he’s savoring every second of it. My heart pounds as we look at each other.

He starts to move a bit quicker, and I’m fighting every urge to moan, knowing we aren’t home alone. But nothing could stop me from letting out a quiet, “Harder, babe.”

Watching his lips curl up, he leans forward, kissing my forehead before sitting up on his knees. His hands wrap around my hips, pulling me closer to him. Thrusting hard into me, he slides one hand over, lightly toying with my clit. His mouth hung open slightly, necklace bouncing off his chest, that small trail of hair on his stomach, his hands touching me; the sight of him alone brings me closer.

A moan sneaks out; my eyes go wide at him.

“Does that feel good, honey?” He says, his voice lowered; his voice alone makes me wet.

I nod, pulling my lip in with my teeth. I tap his hip a few times so he’ll stop. He looks at me with his eyebrow raised.

“Lay down, babe,” I tell him. He moves back as we trade spots, except he leans against his headboard. His hands guiding me onto his lap, feeling so full as I sit on his cock. Taking a second to adjust to the position, I lean into him, letting my lips hover over his ear when I whisper, “You fit so perfectly inside me.” His delicious little groan as the goosebumps flood his skin.

I start grinding against him, feeling my own orgasm creeping closer, letting quiet whimpers out next to his ear, kissing down his neck. Anything to shower him in affection because he deserves it.

“Char,” he mumbles. “If you keep doing that, I’m not gonna last long.”

Resting my forehead against the side of his head, I whisper, “Touch me.” His hand snakes down, rubbing my clit quickly, pulling some quiet moans out of me. I sit up, and my hips start to lift off of him, bouncing slightly. The angle of being on top makes him hit every right spot as I move. My body is starting to feel warm as his hand keeps rubbing tight little circles.

“Jake,” I breathe out, my hand grabbing the headboard behind him. “Oh my god. Baby, I'm gonna—.”

His eyes light up, and I can feel how wet I am as I come down on him, over and over. He finally whispers, “Fuck me, honey.”

I’m seconds from losing it, and my body is tingling; I can feel the knot in my stomach, and even my nipples are peaked when he sends me over the edge, quietly moaning out, “Oh, my sweet girl. Wanna feel you come for me.”

It hits me as I come down on him, my legs refusing to lift me back up as my head drops back in pleasure. His hand slowed and joined the other, holding my sides to support me.

I lean into him, tucking my face into his neck, feeling our chests rise and fall together. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close.

“Hold on tight,” he mumbles, so I slide my arms around his neck quickly. Sitting up, he holds me against him with one arm, flipping us over. Making sure not to knock my head against the headboard, he sets me down carefully.

He leans into my ear, giggling, “This is gonna last like two seconds.” His hips start thrusting into me; he locks his arms behind my knees to hold them up. Driving himself into me quickly, his eyebrows pulled together as his mouth started to open slightly.

“Mmm, Jake,” I moan quietly, knowing it’ll only help him. “God, you feel so good.” Watching his face get a little red at the praise, his hips move a little faster, he's gotta be so close. I pull his face down to mine, hovering my lips over his, whispering, “Come on, baby. I’m all yours.”

I can see him suck in a breath before he lowers himself, tucking his face in close to mine as his hips start to struggle. His little jagged breaths next to me when he lets out a small “fuck.” His sweet face presses into mine, letting his lips rest on my cheek, lazily leaving little kisses on me while I’m just running my hands along his back, letting him have his moment to recover as he does for me.

“Char,” he whispers after we have been lying there for a minute.

I turned my face towards him, “What?”

“I’m so.. happy,” he says. “I can’t believe I get to call you mine, finally.”

I run my hand down the back of his head, “I’m happy too.” Holding him close for a second, it feels like I could cry just lying here with him. I can’t fight the giggle that comes out when I tell him, “Let’s go take care of ..that.. we have a night of cuddling to make up for, Sir.” Giving him a little double pat on his ass that makes him laugh.

“You’re right,” he giggles, moving off of me. I slide out of bed, standing up, and before I can grab anything to pull on, his hands grab my hips.

“What are you-“ I start to ask until I feel his lips against my ass. He sucks in gently, almost nibbling on my skin for a second before pressing another small little peck against it.

“Told you I didn’t need to try that hard,” he says, shooting a wink at me as I look down at him.

My jaw just falls open for a second, glancing down at the small bruise that’s forming. Something about him doing that lit a small fire in me.

“Um,” I let out.

He just smiled at me as he stood up, “What?”

“Since when have you liked doing that?”

“You like that, huh?” His hands slid around me, giving me chills. “Why don’t you stay here? I’ll bring something back to clean you up.” He mumbles, kissing the side of my head.

“Well, hurry up,” I giggle. “We have new things to discuss when you get back.” My eyebrows pull together for a second as I tell him.

I tap his phone to see the time when I’m caught off guard by his Lock Screen. When did he..? There sat a photo of me from our day in Salem, and I felt my eyes start to tear up over him again. He is absolutely everything.

He’s only gone for a couple of minutes, wandering back into his room, only wearing his little boxer briefs. I’m never going to complain about that. It makes me happy that he’s already comfortable enough with me to do it.

I sit up to take the towel from him, but he just holds it away from me, shaking his head.

“Absolutely not,” He tells me, fighting a small laugh when he says it. “I can take care of you. You’re my girlfriend now; let me have this.” He kneels on the floor, pulling me to the edge of the bed.

“So.. when you did it before was because..?”

His face starts turning red at the question, his little smirk as he clears his throat, trying to avoid it. Just quietly making sure everything is clean; he really is so cute sometimes.

“Oh, you have to tell me now. You can’t get all shy on me,” I tease him.

He looks up at me with those dumb brown eyes, “Definitely wasn’t because you were already mine.. in my head.”

“Ooohhh,” I coo, gently holding the sides of his face and placing a little kiss on the tip of his nose. Giving him a slow wink when I tell him, “Your secret is safe with me.”

I can’t describe the feeling I get when I watch him. Even with things as simple as him picking up a few pieces of clothes from his floor, I just want to stare at him as he does mundane tasks. Maybe it’s because of the slight chance he’ll glance over and shoot me one of those lethal smiles. Sometimes, he just looks at me, and my heart cartwheels. I’ve never felt like this about anybody I’ve dated.

My heart pounds as I sit here, watching him grab a sweatshirt for me from his closet. He turns around to hand it to me with that soft smile on his lips, a loose strand of hair falling into his face. I can’t help but admire his chest and stomach as he stands in front of me. But nothing prepared me for the look in his eyes when I reached out to take it from him.

I love you.

I feel the heat rush into my face at the thought. Is that crazy? I take the sweatshirt from him, but I don’t break eye contact until I pull it over my head, flipping my hair out from it. He’s still staring at me, which makes my whole body heat up.

I can’t help but laugh out, “What?”

“You,” he says.

My eyebrows raise, “What about me?”

He slides into bed, facing me, and grabs my hands. His eyes looked all over before saying, “I don’t want to say too much.”

I squeeze his hands a couple of times, telling him, “You’re never too much for me.” The look in his eyes changed when I said it. Almost like they softened a bit, and the corners of his lips turned up, we sat there quietly for a moment.

“Are you okay?” I cave, asking him as he looks down at our hands. His thumbs run over the backs of my hands.

He nods, his eyes moving back up to meet mine, the smile is still there. “I’m more than okay.”

“What is it then?” I move closer to him. He seems comforted whenever we’re touching.

He takes a deep breath, “I just want to make sure it’s clear that I still mean it when I say ‘whatever you’re comfortable with,” pausing for a second, “I never want to make you feel uncomfortable or pressured into anything.”

“I will tell you if anything is too much,” I tell him, “but I promise that I don’t think you could scare me away, babes.”

His sweet little smile at the pet name, “Is that a challenge?”

Both of us giggled at him, trying not to be loud since it was late. Sitting here with him, just talking and laughing, feels so natural with him.

“This is nice,” I tell him quietly.

He just looks at me, wishing I could hear what he was thinking. His arm slides around my waist, pulling me into him as he falls into the pillows. Trying not to laugh too loudly as he peppers my face with kisses, holding me hostage in his arms. Everything with him feels like a dream.

We finally settled into bed, and I’m curled up against him. Laying there in the quiet, it hit me that he was already outside when I got here. He wasn’t smoking.. I can’t stop myself from finally asking, “Why were you outside?”

“What do you mean?”

I prop myself up on my elbow to look at him, “When I got here, you were already out there?”

“Oh,” He looks over at me with a soft smile, gently reaching out and pulling me in close. His lips landed on mine gently, letting a little exhale out mid-kiss like it was what he really needed at the moment. Pulling back to look at me, his hand still holding my jaw, letting his thumb run along my cheek. The look in his eyes had me falling in love with him all over again— and then he whispered, “I was waiting for you to come home.”

My eyes well up as I look at him. Oh, I really do love you. I softly wipe my thumb across his lip, leaning in close to him.

“I’ll always come home to you, Jacob,” I whisper. Watching his eyes light up, and just before he kissed me, he quietly let out the two words that changed everything.

“Oh, honey.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Author's Note Part 2 :

😭🖤 my heart is so full. I'm so happy that you finally got to see them fall in love. I can't wait for you to see what else is in store for The Caravel Tavern Series. But please know, I'll keep writing Jake & Char as long as you want to read about them. 🖤

Love you guys so much xoxo

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

Sam & Willa : Sparrow Of The Dawn

Josh & Quinn : Amongst The Stars

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

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shugar0cone · 9 months ago

Text

Shooting for the stars

Pt 1

“All the people knew the story of the ancient evil of Zhan Tiri and the inventions of demanitus but lost in tracks of time there was a 3rd, she was known as the goddess of the stars, she helped travelers cross the seas, made constellations into stories, and most importantly made the sun drop and the moon opel. She lived with humanity and thrived with them, she helped all for she was the gift. She loved humanity and believed in their wellness, so she gave us the sun and moon to share her power, but in typical human fashion they were greedy for the power wars broke out and this angered the goddess. When she asked for her gifts back they refused and turned on her, she had not choice but to fight. her battle armor was made of the stardust her weapon only she could hold. she fought the humans until she got the sun in moon back. She realized the power and dangers of having them together so she entrusted two of her most loyal followers, deminucus and Zhan Tiri. And you know how the story goes.”

I say to my sister as she brushed my hair. It was nice to have repunzel back even though we are only adopted sister it sure felt like we where blood. I can tell she was lost in thought i knew alot has came up, heck she got back and now she was pretty much thrown into royal duties.

“You ok raps?”

She snapped out of her thoughts and looked at me. Her sunshine mood was darkened maybe it was stress or maybe sshe was processing things.

“Peachy, just ya know feeling pressure, but it aint nothing i can handle.”

I got up from my spot to hug her.

“I’ll be here for you.”

I gave her a warm smile then an idea popped in my head.

“If max is free wanna race to the wall?”

I asked giving a playfull grin.

“Sure if nebs is up to it.”

Nebula or nebs is my horse smaller then both max and casses horse but definitely smother and alot more agile then them. He was a gypsy and apalosian cross, he was alot to take care of grooming wise, But he was my partner in crime.

“How old are you again?”

Repunzel asked me this, maybe she just forgets or that we have a 3 year age different.

“Im 15 rember.”

She laughed.

“Yeah im only playing i know. Your 15.”

She bear hugged me and squashed me half to death, this woman beats corsets when takeing breath out of your lungs.

We walked out to the stables to see nebula trying to reach one of maxes candy apples he got from montys. While repunzel wasnt looking i got up on nebs and crewled onto his neck to grab it.

“Ill get max another later, speaking of the crazy where is he.”

Nebula chewed his or maxes sugar coated apple and did a horse like shrug.

“Do you always have to be like this.”

I rolled my eyes as he snorted at me.

“Ok where is max i have fidella.”

The doors slammed open and low and behold we see max and eugene.

“Race ya ladies oh and we are wanted by the guards.”

“Huh?’

Before i can say anything eugene left quickly with a fleat of guards fallowing him, i looked at repunzel all confused.

“It’s just a game, n/n.”

JUst then cassandras father the leader of the guards was in the stalls on his horse.

“Ladies better run.”

I pretty much left a silhouette of me next to repunzel thats how quickly i left on nebula.

I was having fun some guards where chasing me but luckly for me they where newbies so they did not know my cards i played.

“Lets show them how its done nebs.”

I pat his neck we enter a deep wooded area. I slowed down so one guard could catch up with me. I looked back and pulled a brach so it could smack him. The next guard i had a pan of to swerve him and pretty much get him dizzy or turned around. I faced back twords the guards running at him full force, at this point it was a game of chicken and luckly he lost. I detached his halter from his horse and now there was no control over the horse. I ran for a couple of minutes and ended up at the wall but not the one where repunzel and eugene where.

“Damn it!”

I yelled and slapped myself in the head.

“This is like the 5th time ive ended up in old corona. Sware to the king one more time and ill just move here.”

I sighed to myself and got off of nebula and walked to a stream so he can get some water. When i walked up i looked at my face, it was dirty and sticky with sweat. I grabbed some water and splashed it on my face. I looked at the water again to see a second figure a cloaked boy with googles. I turned around to see yeah it was a real person.

“AH!”

I gave him a left hook out of fear, that he looked creepy, and weird. He groaned holding his face.

HE looked up his googles where on the floor his hood was down i noticed I busted his lip.

“What was that for?”

He yelled at me, man he must be my age or younger. I mentally giggled at him because his voice cracked at the word for.

“You cant just sneek up on people like that.”

I yell back.

“Well you cant-’

He pointed his bloody finger at me and fainted.

“OH MY GOD! I THINK I KILLED HIM!”

I grabbed my hair and panicked. Nebula took some water and spat it out on his face. He woke up gasping for air from the shock.

“You dropped these uhh.”

I grabbed his googles and he snatched them from me.

“Im varian the mighty alchemist, and you are?”

“I’m y/n, the girl who knocked your socks off.”

#varian x reader #tangled #x reader #tangled the series

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paingoes · 5 months ago

Text

Rubies

First Night

welcome back everyone

(Content: fainting, reference to past captivity, blood)

=================

He collapsed onto the deck. Apollo caught him just before he could crash to the ground. The silver chains clattered loudly on the metal surface. Delta was freezing, soaked, and now fully unconscious. The ramp slammed back up just as the ship was pulling up.

“Destroy them!” Kitty cheered at the console.

“I’m working on it,” Rene looped the ship back around, letting out another volley. The airship was mostly on fire, but it still hadn’t fallen out of the sky. The last round finished it off. It went into freefall. The airship was briefly a normal ship and then just as quickly it turned into a shipwreck. The resulting column of water reached their windshield from several stories below.

“Get the collar off,” Apollo said, bending down to feel Delta’s pulse. Cass slid the bolt cutters up against his skin.

“Oh fuck, I think I nicked him,” Cass gasped. A massive psychic wave ripped off of Delta’s body as the collar was removed. All of them got electrocuted.

“Oh my god, you people can’t do anything,” Iza put her hands on her head.

“Throw the collar out,” Lun whispered, “Into the sea.”

Willow cracked the window open, tossing it out. It beeped miserably on its descent.

“Put the dampers on. He’s going to show up on every radar in a five-mile radius otherwise.” Iza gave the order, but she started to fulfill it herself. She slid Delta’s sleeve up, wrapping the insulating band around his upper arm. Immediately, the pressure in the ship went down. The light returned to normal.

“The cuffs,” Apollo said impatiently. Cass cut through the chain binding Delta’s wrists. They bent down to cut off the manacles, this time just missing the skin. They tossed the cutters aside and pulled out a small ammeter from their pocket. They touched it to Delta’s clavicle. It burnt up immediately. Cass dropped it in pain.

“That can’t be right.” Willow said, a look of horror crossing her face.

“I knew it,” Apollo shook his head, “We’re so fired.”

=======================

Iza bridal carried Delta into the house. Rene held the door open for her. He walked ahead to turn on all the lights. It was an older safehouse; they’d only got it running again earlier that morning. There were still cobwebs in the corners and outlets that didn’t work, but at least it was heated.

“I’m not getting fired,” Rene said peevishly, “I didn’t do anything. Lun should get fired.” “Lun carried,” Kitty’s sharp teeth flashed when she smiled. She wrapped her arms around Lun’s neck, “They should be promoted.”

“Don’t send the report yet,” Iza called out to Kitty, “I need a minute.”

“Just put him on the floor for right now,” Apollo said. The two of them moved into the guest bedroom. Iza placed Delta down gingerly. Apollo dug through the dresser, pulling out a towel and a clean set of clothes. He nudged the door shut with his foot, keeping the others from seeing in.

They stripped the wet clothes from Delta’s unconscious body. Apollo redressed him in an oversized shirt; it was the easiest thing they could do without having to maneuver him too much. Iza raised him up onto the bed.

“Alright, I’ve got it from here. Thank you,” Apollo said. He looked up. A sudden urgency entered his voice. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“Happy to help,” Iza said unhappily.

“Tell them it’s my fault,” Apollo said.

“You know that’s not how it works. I’m a big girl, sunny. Don’t worry.”

Iza shut the door before he could argue.

Apollo sighed as he looked over the dormant form in front of him. He reached out to touch Delta’s wrist, checking the pulse in an almost self-conscious manner. Still alive. You’d be forgiven for thinking otherwise. Apollo examined the wrist; he noted its odd angle. It was fractured, if not broken. He winced as he looked closer at Delta’s face. Inflamed claw marks raked one side of his cheek. There were matching ones along his forearm. He knew the salt water had probably helped to stave off infection, but he doubted that was a painless process. Some of them were still bleeding minutely.

He was most concerned about hypothermia. The safe temperature ranges varied across species. He suspected Delta was better prepared for it than most. Still, the plan had not been for him to fall into the ocean on a freezing night. His skin was clammy. Apollo wrapped the blanket around him. He sat next to him on the bed, taking a moment to check over vitals and jot them down in his journal. He patched up the deeper cuts along Delta’s forearms and cheek, as well as the new one on his neck. He saw the ring of bruises around where the collar had been. They were layered one on top of the other. After a moment’s consideration, he went about making a wrist splint. It was surprisingly difficult when the patient was still unconscious, but he managed to tie it up tightly. It wasn’t pretty — none of it was — but it would hold him over until they could get back to base.

==================

“He still out?” Kitty looked up from the laptop. Her fingers still danced along it automatically. It was like they operated completely apart from her. She could carry a whole conversation while typing out a completely different one with someone else.

“Yes.” Apollo turned the microwave off before it could beep. He removed the compress.

“I’m gonna send it now!” Kitty’s voice rose up, carrying throughout the house. There were a few sounds of assent, some of protest. She giggled at the reaction. But as she turned back to the screen, Apollo caught the subtle way in which her smile faltered. Her tail flicked beneath her. It was all bristles. She looked up at Apollo, searching for something. Permission? Approval? Reassurance?

He nodded, squeezing her shoulder gently. It was too late to go back now. She hit send.

Apollo felt a bit like he was cheating by hiding out in the room with Delta. It was a good excuse. When Galatea did review the report, nobody would ask to speak to him first. And if they did, well, he was obviously pretty busy at the moment.

The only thing was that he wasn’t actually that busy. Delta was low maintenance. He had not stirred at all since they’d found him. His heartbeat and breathing were steady, if a bit too slow for Apollo’s comfort. He was just cold. Apollo pressed the compress against Delta’s chest. He brushed the still damp hair out of the boy’s face. Delta made a soft, pained noise. Apollo winced.

“It’s okay,” Apollo shushed him, “You’re okay.”

He didn’t know if he’d heard him, but Delta nuzzled deeper into the pillows, pulling the blankets up around himself.

==================

Delta only woke once that night. He wouldn’t remember it. At the time, he didn’t think it was real.

He slowly sat upright, his movement hindered by the pain in his ribs. He did not know where he was. But it was dark. He was freezing, despite the warmth of the room. Everything hurt.

His eyes gradually adjusted to the dark around him. He just made out the shape of the door. It was ajar. On the other side, a single unblinking olive-green eye peeked through.

Delta squinted at it. There was nothing he could do to make sense of the situation. He didn’t care. He immediately fell back asleep.

===============

(Masterlist)

Tags: @catnykit@indigoviolet311@snakebites-and-ink@vivulapom@scoundrelwithboba@whatwhump@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire @micechomper

#whump community #whump #living weapon whumpee #whump scenario #whump prompt #living weapon #hurt/comfort #recovery #rescue #delta #kitty #apollo #if the names in this section seem a bit overwhelming dw!! theyre not all important it’s meant to feel intentionally chaotic #rubies

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puppiesandnightlock · 1 year ago

Text

Link to Ao3: A Robin's Song

Summary: Since diapers, Jon and Damian have been best friends. Accidentally encouraging jon to go ask out a girl, damian must now deal with the consequences of pushing his what he thinks are unrequited feelings down. He turns to music to vent, posting under an anonymous online username "Robin".

What he was not expecting, was for the music to blow up, leaving him internet famous, and his feelings out in the open.

and Jon is completely clueless.

A/N: THIS IS A REVERSE ROBINS AU AGES R: Damian is 17 Duke is 16 Tim is 14 Steph is 13 ½ Cass is 12 Jason 10 ¾ Dick is 5 Jon is 18 Kon is 14 Bart is 13 Wally(will be mentioned eventually) is 5 Roy(also will b mentioned eventually) is 11

Based on this post by @jaybirbie

December 3, five weeks before.

“Can’t believe you, Mr. Jonathan-its-under-fifty-degrees-please-wear-a-jacket, didn’t wear the biggest coat you could find today.” Jon snorted, rifling through his closet.

Damian’s bronze skin was dusted with a pretty pink as he scowled, a knitted green sweater and black skinny jeans his only defense against the cold.

“It’s a weekend, Jon, I had no intention to go out, and I let Duke take the big jacket because he was going out with friends.”

Jon hummed sympathetically before pulling out the next sweater he had, his letterman.

“Try this on, Dames.”

“I don’t think it’ll be that warm.” Damian eyed it skeptically. Jon gave him a look, and he scoffed, shrugging it on anyway.

“Looks better on you than me.” Jon cackled, snapping a quick picture.

The sleeves went past his hands, the jacket going down to his mid-thigh. Damian was drowning in a sea of warm fabric, and for a moment he was lost, inhaling deeply and smelling the fabric softener Jon’s mom used, a hint of the cologne he stole from his father, and a smell that was utterly Jon. Just Jon. His best friend, and definitely nothing more. Never…anything more.

“Dami?” Jon croaked nervously, silence taking over the room.

Damian snapped out of his little dream world and flushed red, scrambling to take it off and hand it back. “Way too big.”

“Is it normal for you to smell clothing?” Jon raised an eyebrow, was that a small, miniscule burst of pink on his cheeks?

No, stop messing with your own emotions, Damian.

Damian turned his nose up and scowled. “Yes, when was the last time you washed that thing?”

“Hey! It’s clean, thank you!” Jon shot back indignantly, but not before sniffing it quickly, just to make sure.

His friend snorted, before putting on the light jacket he’d brought over his knitted sweater.

“We can just stay home and watch tv or something,” he offered.

“Should I put on Glee?”

“I’ll grab some cocoa.”

Five weeks after.

“What a sight for sore eyes.” Jon sighed, slumping against his locker. Damian looked up, shutting his as he grabbed his books.

“Your locker?”

Jon let out a breathy chuckle. “No. Her .”

He followed his gaze to a girl walking down the hall, laughing with a group of girls. Some wore a cheerleading outfit, but she wore a skirt with leggings, white shirt, and a low cardigan. Her skirt and sweater were varying shades of blue, and when she opened her eyes, one could see her eyes were as well.

Thick pieces of brown hair fell to her hips, two long layers framing her face, slightly shorter bangs parted in the middle of her forehead.

And with one glance, he could already tell. Jon was utterly enamored with her.

“What’s her name?” Damian asked quietly.

“Haisley. She’s one of the cheerleaders, and god, her voice when she sings. Angels, Damian, I swear to you she’s what angels sound like.”

Every word out of Jon’s mouth was ripping him to shreds and he fought the sudden urge to scream. Instead he swallowed hard, spitting out words like they had done him personal harm.

“You should go talk to her.”

Stop, Damian, don't do this to yourself.

“I’m sure you’ll get on very well, she looks sweet.”

Jon went pale. “Oh, God, she’s coming this way! Damian, what if I screw up?”

“Jon, it's a simple greeting. Say hi, I’m Jon, I’ve seen you around, then blah blah, say something charming. You’re good at that.”

He said it so dismissively, it nearly convinced himself that he didn't actually care. His taller friend inhaled sharply before meeting her halfway. Before he made it to her, she was tripped by something, and dropped her books. Being the good boy he was raised to be, he rushed over to help.

Damian winced as Jon said something to make her laugh, his pale complexion flushing crimson at the sound.

Fighting off the stupid emotions, he kept his head down and sped out of the hallway.

What had he done?

Present day.

Third wheel again.

It was lunch, and instead of the usual eating under the big oak in the courtyard of their high school, Damian was stuck between Haisley and Jon, trying not to scowl as they chattered and flirted.

It was disgusting, frankly, and never failed to make his appetite disappear.

He had long since stopped trying to join their conversations, always drowned out by the “we’re-not-together-yet-Dames” couple.

“I’m just going to throw my tray away.” He called loudly over their talking, the only acknowledgement that he received was a thumbs up from Jon and a sweet smile thrown his way by Haisley.

Never one to waste food, he tucked the remaining packaged snacks and apple in his backpack before returning.

Before he made it to the table, he saw Jon draping his letterman over Haisley. The same one he’d been given on that cold day. Bile rose in his throat as he saw her lean her head tentatively on his shoulder, watching as Jon grew flustered, and just as hesitantly, wrapped an arm around her.

Damian suddenly felt as if he’d stumbled across something private, and hastily turned and walked away.

The walk turned into a run, and suddenly he was in the library, holed up in a corner as he cursed the sniffles he got.

This is hardly something to cry over , he scolded himself. I knew it was never going to happen.

He stayed in the little corner until the bell had rung, sketches of characters that didn't exist pouring over his sketchbook.

*****************

Walking home had always been something held to high regard for Damian these last few weeks since Haisley arrived. The only time he could have Jon to himself like he used to. These moments were treasured now, more than ever.

“Where’d you go at lunch, Dami?” Jon asked, strolling along the sidewalk.

“The library. There was a book I wanted to check out.” He said smoothly.

“Where is it then?”

“Oh, they didn't have it, so I had to put it on hold. I must have gotten distracted looking at the other ones.”

Yes, he had precrafted a story or five to tell.

“Did I miss anything important?”

“No, not really.” Jon let out a whoosh of air. “Just that I may actually be falling in love with Haisley.”

Hurt struck him like glass daggers to his heart, but years over playing games with his brothers had ensured he had an absolutely stellar poker face.

His mask of indifference washed over him as he responded with a tremor to his tone.

“Is that so? What makes you think that?”

“Gosh, she’s so pretty, for one.”

Damian’s stomach twisted, and he spoke. “So, is it just physical? That’s not love, Jon, that’s a crush.”

“Wha-? No, I'm not done. She’s sweet, kind, and funny. She can actually have a snarky side if you hang around her enough. She has a good heart, and I know my parents would approve. Besides, do I gotta mention all the other stuff? The way her eyes get all squinty when she laughs, her smile, all the blue. I look good in blue, don’t I? We could match~”

Jon continued gushing and at the corner, Damian clapped him on the shoulder and declared with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes that he was happy for him.

“You sure, D? You don’t look too excited.” Jon seemed worried.

“Course, J, I only want you to be happy. If you're happy, I'm happy. Just…this won’t come between us, right?”

He would die before he let their friendship burn, even if that meant he had to keep his distance.

“Never. You're my best friend, Damian. We’ll always be like this won’t we? Forever?”

“Yeah. Forever.” Damian swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and breathed a sigh of relief as he hit the row of small houses.

“My stop. See you tomorrow.”

Before he could hear the response, he scurried away and across the street to the little tired house on the corner.

He unlocked the door and shut it behind him, slumping against it. The inside of the house was warm and cozy, the smell of cooking food making it homey.

When he opened his eyes, he could see his oldest younger brother, Duke, in the kitchen, the old yellow apron they had tied around his waist.

“You okay, Dames?” Duke set the pan down and lowered the fire, moving to help him up.

“Peachy.” He responded, letting himself be pulled upwards.

He hung up his coat and backpack and tried a smile, which Duke returned sympathetically.

Marching into his room, he starfished across his small bed and screeched into the pillow.

“✨Anger issues✨” Was hummed from above him.

Grumbling, Damian launched his pillow towards the person, his mood lifted slightly as he heard an “oof-” as the pillow hit his target.

“My dear menace to society.” Damian grinned as the pillow was thrown back and a black haired head popped up from the top bunk of the bunkbeds next to him.

“How was imprisonment for you today?”

“Fine, fine, I won't bore you with details .” The teen waved his hand dismissively, before raising an eyebrow.

“How was your day, is the question we should all be asking if you came in here and tried to summon a demon with those screams.”

“And summon a demon, I did.” Damian gestured upwards to his little brother.

“Asshole.”

“Swear Jar.”

A quarter was thrown at his face.

“I’m serious, I'm fairly certain you and Duke are the ones who pay like half the bills from just the jar.”

“Shut up.” Tim stuck his tongue out, Damian returning the gesture.

“Kon told me Jon got a girlfriend.” His tone softened. “Are you okay?”

The crush was well known between the three oldest brothers and Cass, and it was often used as a teasing device, if not them actually trying to convince Damian to say something.

“Fine. And they’re not together yet, tell Connor to get his facts right.” he waved off his brother’s concerns.

Tim looked at him, seeing directly past the lie, however, knowing better, he kept his mouth shut.

“You should write,” He said instead. ”Healthy venting.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Nonetheless, Damian followed his advice and took out a writing pad, proceeding to stare at the blank page for the next half hour until his youngest siblings and father arrived home, much like the author of this fic.

************

After dinner, everyone lounged around the living room, chattering and doing activities with each other.

Dick bounced onto the couch next to Damian and turned on the biggest puppy eyes he could muster.

“Dami?”

“Dickiebird?”

“Will you play for us?”

Damian inhaled sharply. It had been awhile since he’d touched his guitar, but it still remained one of his younger brothers favorite pastimes.

“I’m a little rusty, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try.”

He went and grabbed it, repositioning himself back on the couch. His siblings paused in their activities to watch.

Hesitantly he tunes and strums, before playing around with some notes. Finding he quite liked the pattern, he continued with the slow melody, switching it up and returning it.

“I’ve never heard this song before.” Steph turned her head to the side, pausing in painting Cass’s nails.

Jason bookmarked the page in his book and tore a page from one of Damian’s sketchbooks, coming to sit in front of Damian.

“Can you play that again? It was really pretty.”

He repeated it, again and again until the tune swirled around the house, bringing everyone into the song.

The kids had made a small circle around the couch, Bruce putting down his newspaper in favor of listening to his eldest.

There was nothing in his heart that spoke of pain and longing, all poured into the melancholy melody surrounding them.

When he came back to the present, the paper Jason had torn was covered in little scribbles.

Music notes.

“Timmy helped, but these were the ones that we got, so that you can play that again sometime.”

“Please play it again!” Dick chirped.

“ Very beautiful.” Cass agreed out loud, trying to sign, but stopped by the wet paint on her nails.

“You should write lyrics!” Duke suggested. “I can help!”

The rest of the evening was spent curled in the living room, Damian writing furiously and Duke helping him make things flow, Tim leaning over occasionally and remarking how similar they sounded to Damian's own predicament.

Damian was subjected to yet another day watching “Jaisley” as Tim and his group of friends, Duke, and if he was honest, he called it that as well, pine after each other.

If he had to hear the words “She’s an angel, D.” in a lovestruck tone one more time, his father would have to pick him up at the local police station for arson and vandalism.

Luckily, his savior came in the form of one Duke Wayne, who magically showed up almost every time Damian was on the brink. Today was his full school day, so he walked with Jon and Damian back home, wincing everytime Jon opened his mouth to gush about Haisley.

“Well, fuck.” Duke muttered as they walked into the house, dropping a quarter into the large jar as they did.

“It’s bad.” Damian sighed. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I can sweep this under the rug, it’ll be fine.”

“Dames-” his brother started, before Tim came barreling through the door.

“Bye guys!” He screamed from the porch, two boys and a girl waving back at him.

Shutting the door, he turned to his older brothers. “We gonna record?”

Damian crossed his arms, staring up at his taller (only by a few inches!) little brother.

“Wonderful idea, Timothy.”

He stalked towards the room, overhearing Tim whisper to Duke. “ He called me Timothy, was it really that bad?”

“Worse, dude. Wayyyy worse.”

*******************

Damian was wearing an oversized black hoodie with yellow lining, a dark green domino mask from an old halloween costume, and had left his hair out in a way rendered mostly unrecognizable to most of his school peers.

Tim screwed around with the beat-up old laptop they’d salvaged awhile back, and a suspiciously high-quality recording mic.

He would ask where it came from later.

The three brothers threw out some song requests for Damian to warm up, and then began recording.

After the third take, they stopped.

“Dami, you sound monotone. Like you’re rehearsing a line and we have you at gunpoint behind the camera.”

“Sorry.” Damian flushed.

Duke spoke up. “This is your song, your story. Try singing it how you feel, like you’re watching them and monologuing internally.”

He chewed his bottom lip, nodding. “Can we try again?”

Tim smiled, counting down.

This time, he shut his eyes, letting the soft strumming of the guitar take him back to the moment when he felt his heart break for the first time.

He floated away into the memories of them on the cold December day, to when they saw Haisley for the first time, to just recently listening to the voice he loved to hear pine for someone else.

The tune flowed around him, lifting him up into the song until he was nearly sobbing with the pain of reliving those painful moments, pouring all he had into the few minutes.

When he hit the final notes, he let the tears building up catch in the mask, a few stubborn ones slipping past the white out eyes and being hastily scrubbed away as Tim stopped recording.

The silence was loud, and nervously, Damian spoke up. “Should we retake?”

“That was perfect, Damian.”

“God, I could have cried. That is how this song was meant to be sung, and I'll be damned if this doesn't blow up by next week.”

“SWEAR JAR!” Tim and Damian chorused.

“I’m giving compliments.” Duke grumbled.

Tim stuck his tongue out and Damian skimmed the top of his guitar with his fingers gently.

“I…I don't think I want it to blow up too much. These are my feelings, and to be honest I wouldn't be surprised if they find out it's me just by the words.”

“I guess.” Tim shrugged, going over the footage in his computer, and tweaking with the picture and turning the sound up over the videos, adding subtitles with the lyrics.

“Your old profile pic is that symbol you drew a few years ago. Do you wanna keep it?”

It was a bubble letter R in dark colors of green and red, a hint of yellow making it pop. Damian studied it before nodding.

“Yes. I'd like to keep it.”

**************

They had played the song after dinner, the family applauding at the end. Tim posted it online with everyone onlooking, and although Damian claimed he didn’t care much about any of it, he sent the link to Kon, and asked him to pass it along to his older brother.

And if he hacked into a few accounts to put the link in their recommendations, who would know but him?

…And the FBI agent that Bernard from across the street told him was watching the computer, despite using a VPN.

It was for a good cause anyways.

****************************

BIG HUGE THANKS TO MY AMAZING BETA READERS FOR THIS CHATPER @robbed-ghost and @redasuree !!!!!!!!!!!

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