#i hope you enjoy nyx
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doremifasorashige · 17 days ago
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courting
ftm!Tim/Raylan; southern charm courting
Tim has shared a desk wall with Raylan for one year, seven months, twelve days and four hours. Yes, he has been counting. He has been in love with Raylan for one year, five months, two days, and eight hours. And that is a problem.
It's beyond a problem because Tim doesn't fuck with coworkers for a laundry list of reasons that he doesn't like to think about, but at the top of the list is:
-this is central fucking Kentucky, where you can't get anymore meshed of Midwest and southern culture than here
-he lived through DADT and it was a fucking nightmare
and most importantly
-Raylan has no earthly idea that Tim is trans, and that scares him more than anything else on the fucking planet.
He'd rather face down the Taliban again than tell Raylan Givens, all southern charm, cowboy swagger that not only is he as gay as they come, but also his dick is detachable and sits in a box under his bed.
Most of the office doesn't know he's trans, aside from Rachel and Art which one was an accident and the other, well, Rachel is just really good at her job.
All of this to say, Tim is 99.9% positive Rachel is off her fucking rocker in thinking that Raylan has the hots for him because that boy is as straight as they come. Aside from Crowder that is.
But it needles at the back of his head, poking at him, prodding him, making him wonder. What if he isn't? Raylan may be a southern boy through and through, Harlan born and bred, but he's different than a lot of the other folks Tim's met during his time in Kentucky, as well as the folks that he grew up with in Texas. He wonders if maybe he'd at least be ok with the whole trans thing.
Not that Tim is itching to out himself, but. He wonders. A lot.
It all comes to a head when Raylan asks him to get drinks one day afterwork. a long week of a whole lot of nothing coming to a close, and while this has been one of Tim's better weeks mentally, the slow slog and drag of doing nothing but flipping through case files and waiting for some dumb fuck to do something monumentally stupid as worn him down in a different way than being busy all week usually does.
Fuck it, Tim thinks. "Sure, why not." He shuts down his computer, cleans up his desk and follows Raylan to the parking garage, then tails him to a bar near Raylan's motel. (Another thing that makes Tim really question if Rachel is insane or not, because what queer man lives in a fucking motel for longer than he has to?)
They're tucked away into a corner of the bar, the music and the voices a dull thrumming all around him. For the moment it's almost relaxing. With their drinks in hand Raylan finally looks at Tim, head on. His hat is tipped back on his head, revealing his eyes to the soft dim lights of the bar. They look warm and inviting, like a glass of whiskey. Tim has to tear his eyes away before he does something stupid, like kiss him.
Raylan takes a sip from his glass, the ice clinks against the side walls and each other. He sucks his teeth after that first burning sip. The sound of a long day being pushed away. Tim follows his lead and sips from his beer.
"Y'know," Raylan says, breaking their easy silence. "We've worked together almost two years--" one year, eight months, twenty two days and 9 hours. "--and I've realized, I barely know a thing about you Tim."
Tim snorts. Sips his beer. "What's there to know?"
"I don't know. Anything you feel worth knowing."
He glances at Raylan, takes in the easy, loose set of his shoulders, that soft tilt of his lips that says he knows he'll get his way, as long as he's patient. The strand of hair that's lost the slick of gel from the day and has slipped from the hold of his hat, curling on his forehead. Tim can't tell if this is a trap.
"I don't really know," he admits. "Been a long time since I really did the 'get to know you' thing." Tim learns about people, their fugitives, his coworkers, his neighbors (against his will), the guys in the army. That last one had just happened--you end up talking about yourself at times to fill the silence, to combat the fear. When you're alone out there with two, three other guys, thinkin’ this might be the one that ends it all you can't help but just talk sometimes, reveal little parts of yourself and gain parts of someone else. Tim's never actively asked someone about themselves, nor talked about himself. Not with intent. This. This feels like intent.
Raylan's smile doesn't change as he looks Tim over before turning his focus back on his glass. "Where'd you grow up? Gotta be the south, accent like that."
Tim licks his lips and looks down at the wood grain of the bar. "North Texas. Bumbfuck nowhere."
"So, not all that different from Harlan." He doesn't ask, but Tim supposes he doesn't have to.
"Somethin’ like that."
He hums. "I can guess what that's like."
Tim glances at him, and finds Raylan eyes already on him, boring into his own. What do you think it was like, he wonders, you couldn't possibly guess it all, not by looking at me now. Not even by looking at me then.
"You ever miss it?"
"Not much there for me to miss." He drains his beer, signals for another. This is not the night he thought he'd be having. He's starting to wonder if this wasn't a mistake. "No family, no friends. Even if I had ‘em, they wouldn't recognize me now." Tim thinks that if that teenager fresh out of basic, standing outside his dead daddy's trailer could see him now, he wouldn't recognize himself either. But that was the point.
Raylan's eyes are still on him when he chances another look. Expression unreadable. "Wonder what that's like. To not have everyone from your past come out at the woodwork and already have your name on their lips before you can get a word in edgewise."
"Well," Tim drawls out. "I suppose it helps if you don't dress in the most distinct way possible where someone can spot you from the otherside of the room." He doesn't look away as he takes a pull from his beer, long and slow.
Raylan blinks once. Twice. then laughs in that soft self-deprecating chuckle of his. Tim likes the way his crinkle at the corners and the way he self consciously slides his hat off and runs a hand through his hair, displacing that stupid strand back up with the rest of its brethren until it decides to break free once more. Raylan places the hat back on his head, still tipped back, leaving his face on full view.
"You've got me there," he admits.
"Helps when you make it easy." His eyes are bright when they meet Tim's again. "Why the sudden curiosity?"
"You're a mystery, Tim."
Good, he thinks, that's the point. "Not really," he laughs. "I'm a pretty simple guy. Work out in the mornings, sit next to you all day and listen to you speak the language of your people. I read children's fantasy novels in my spare time. And as a little treat I try not to think about what it was like to kill people through the end of a sniper rifle in the hot desert." He doesn't mean to be so blunt, it just tumbles out of him before he can remember to shut his mouth. He's just glad that he didn't slip out the part that once a month he injects himself with testosterone with a needle so large that he almost fainted for the first year every time.
"Very simple," Raylan says without missing a beat. He's slouched down along the bar top some, leaning his head on the palm of his hand, arm braced along the bar, edge cutting into the pit. He looks completely relaxed. soft. Tim's never seen him this way before, not even that time he played protection detail at the motel.
It's intoxicating to look at.
Raylan says something else, but Tim can't hear him past the rush of blood in his ears. He watches Raylan's lips move, captivated.
Tim blinks and the world comes rushing back around him. "What?"
A smirk plays at the corner of Raylan's mouth and he repeats himself. "Why children's fantasy?"
"oh. uh, anything is possible." he shrugs. "I needed an escape as a kid. Fantasy was my escape until I could do it on my own. and then again in the desert." he looks at his beer bottle, peels at the sticker. Anything was possible when Tim read those books, feeding his imagination. He could go anywhere and do anything. be anyone he wanted to be. Tim didn't have to be a girl when he was reading those books, he could be himself.
Tim clears his throat. "Um. I don't know, they just have more to offer me than anything else."
"An escape," Raylan repeats. "From the day to day reminder of how shit the world can be, with shitty people in it that we chase down."
He looks at Raylan, takes in his relaxed position, near full drink and the way he's given Tim his complete attention the entire time they've been at the bar. In all the time he's known Raylan, he has never once seen the man give something his complete undivided attention. Not a single task or person. Until now.
Tim licks his lips. Raylan's eyes flick down at the movement, then back up. blink and you'd miss it. Tim didn't blink.
He finishes his beer and places money on the bar. "There is one other thing." he says before he can chicken out.
"what's that?"
Tim's heart is hammering in his chest, beating out of control, pumping his blood so fast that its rushing in his ears and he can barely himself, let alone Raylan. "I--" he doesn't want to be in public for this. "Do you want to go back to yours?"
Raylan blinks, stares at him for a moment before reaching into his pocket to pay for his own drinks, then slides his jacket back on. The easy slope of his body is still present, but Tim clocks the minute shift, the worry that Raylan is trying desperately to hide. He wonders what Raylan has to be afraid of.
They park side by side outside of Raylan's motel. He watches Raylan exit his car and walk to the door, unlocking it before he turns back and meets Tim's eyes through the windshield. with a steading breath, he follows Raylan inside.
Tim finds it impressive how good Raylan is at keeping up appearances, at least in this moment. After he closes the door behind him, he watches Raylan move about the room, shrugging his jacket off, placing it and his hat at the single table by the window before unbuttoning his shirt.
briefly, Tim is distracted by how breath taking it is to watch Raylan do the most mundane things like fucking existing. he's pathetic.
"Do you want another drink?" Raylan asks from the far side of the room. He's got a bottle of Jim Beam in his hand and a plastic cup on the counter. Tim nods, watches him fill the cup. He's in love with a man who lives in a goddamn motel and doesn't even have real cups. Fucking pathetic.
He downs it in one go, wincing at the burn that he hasn't paid attention to in at least five years. Raylan's eyes are wide when Tim looks up.
"Do you enjoy working together?"
Raylan cocks an eyebrow and sits at the foot of the bed. "I'd say so."
Tim nods. Well shit. "I'm telling you this in confidence," he says, pushing the words past his lips. "And that if you have a problem with it, there's nothing I can do about it, but I expect to be respected all the same."
"Tim," Raylan says slowly. "Are you about to tell me that you're gay?"
Tim freezes. Shocked.
Raylan stares, unmoving.
"No, I was going to tell you that I'm trans," he says finally, matter of factly, all in one breath.
"Oh. So you're not gay?"
He blinks. "What?" He takes in Raylan's open shirt, the beater under it clinging to his torso and showing off his collarbones. Raylan's messy hair, and rolled up sleeves, and the fact that he's probably the most put together disaster on this side of the Mississippi and-- "I'm literally in love with you."
"Seriously?"
Tim rolls his eyes heavenward. "That's the big shock of the evening?"
"Um, yes?"
He takes a deep breath, then looks at Raylan. "I've been in love with you since like, two months after you got here." He probably shouldn't say the exact day. That's weird, right? Totally weird.
"Same."
"What?"
Raylan clears his throat and looks away, putting his cup down on the table. "I mean, not two months after, but. A while."
"Oh."
He watches as Raylan gets up from the bed and walks over to him, doesn't hesitate until he's standing right in front of Tim, looking like he wants to ask something but doesn't know how. He reaches out to touch, but pauses just before his fingers make contact with Tim's. Tim glances down at the hands, millimeters apart. He nods and Raylan takes Tim's hand in his own, calloused  fingers sweeping over his own.
"I guess I should admit something," he says, a soft self-conscious laugh. "I had this whole plan to court you? All southern boy charms." He shakes his head and it causes his hair to sway across his forehead. "Gotta say, I'm awful glad I didn't go through with it now. You'd hate me for sure."
Tim thinks this over and can't help but agree that if it had been before he'd told Raylan, he would've hated it, despised it even. It would've made him second guess every aspect of his current life and how bad he was at being himself that it was so obvious to the most oblivious man in the office that Tim was trans. He would've been humiliated.
Now, Tim thinks, he'd be open to it. just to see Raylan at his a-game, all cocky cowboy flirting.
he tangles his fingers with Raylan's, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I could be persuaded."
Raylan smiles and it's the most open smile Tim has ever seen him give. "I mean this in the gayest, non-heteronormative way possible. I'm going to court this shit out of you."
Bold, Tim thinks, but he likes bold. 
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crescentfool · 10 months ago
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judgement day 🌕
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transmascaraa · 7 months ago
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Reader "secretely" steals an prop their partner uses to try and recreate something they do with it
(example - gamings Lion dance hat (I'm not very cultured idk how it's called canonically...) to try and do at least a part of lion dancing, lyneys cards to try and do a magic trick, wanderers hat to try and do his usual poses etc!!)
multiple characters headcannons!
JUSTIFIED stealing.
characters: lyney, gaming, wanderer x gn!reader
author's note: this one's next because i can🤩 yeah i'm gonna do all 3 of those so i hope you have fun reading lol
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♡ Lyney
-uhm you basically stole his hat AND his cards right before an important magic show.
-he was looking for them literally EVERYWHERE.
-but he couldn't find him so he was getting worried by the second.
-until he saw you walking up to him with his hat on your head.
-"hello lyney, my love, may i show you a magic trick before i return it to you?" as you put his hat out to him.
-"oh, mon amour, of course! just please hurry, i was getting really concerned there." he awkwardly laughs it off.
-he's not one to really have a problem with you taking it with yourself, butttt his magic show was starting soon!
-your card trick was one where you turned 2 cards into 4, then 4 into 8.
-even tho it was a starter trick and he knew exactly how you had done it, he smiled brightly.
-he's happy to see you having fun with something that he likes himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
⑅ Gaming
-again, a performance was starting soon.
-and he couldn't find his lion dance hat!(that's what i'm gonna call it)
-the first few times he walked into your room, he asked you if you'd seen it, but you always said no.
-you were getting more suspicious to him each time.
-so he secretly walked into the room, but then you just looked at eachother when you realized he had caught you.
-you, in a random pose, mid-dance, in his lion dance hat.
-"you- i was looking for it EVERYWHERE!! are you serious??" he was laughing while talking, it was actually quite cute to him, how you looked in his hat.
-"well- uhm- rate my dance?" you then tried to make up a little dance for him and he really liked it
-after he literally laughed his ass of with you, he said:
-"10/10. but i have to go to my performance now, i'll be back soon. see you, love, and then i'll let you use it once again."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
๑ Wanderer
-(i am so excited to write this one)
-so basically, he was about to go for a walk through the desert, with nahida, and he was missing his hat.
-usually, it's in the living room on the table, or next to the bed. and he searched throughout the whole house, nothing.
-but then he entered your shared bedroom.
-you, on the bed, in his drip marketing pose, shouting his "voicelines" in whispers.,
-"uhm- hi?-" you said awkwardly.
-"what the fuck." (he thought you were cute.)
-"i'm just- uhm- cosplaying you? ahm- yeah, i'm cosplaying you." the best excuse you could come up with.
-"cosplaying my ass. your outfit is your everyday outfit. you didn't even try to make your hair like mine. the hat doesn't suit you like that." he started acting smart and like the know-it-all
-"excuse me-" but then he cut you off (again).
-"no excuses. i said what i said." he took his hat back from you and just before leaving the room, he turned to you and said something more.
-"don't touch my hat, idiot. bye."
-you could've sworn you've heard a quiet "i love you" at the end.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
damn i really like this one too
i used to hate them when i js started writing wtf
but i most definitely at least improved lmfao
| @keeyisbored | @mariaace <3
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happi-tree · 1 year ago
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⚔️👑 shield and scepter 👑⚔️
Howdy, y'all! So my wonderful mutual @raemeh did this really cool fanart of my royalty Swiftli au (the fic for which can be found here), and I had some little design ideas about them in my wips, so I thought I'd post the two of them here! Thank you so much to everyone who's enjoyed it <333
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ananxiousgenz · 8 months ago
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PART 2 OF MY HADESTOWN TPP FLASH FIC
@smidgen-of-hotboy and @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl this one goes out to you <3
part 1 and inspiration is here
even when the world got rough, he still had his music.
that was what juno steel kept telling himself. even when times got rough he could still sing.
the music wasn't so much something he learned as something he was born with, flowing in his veins as slick and easy as the blood that kept him alive. music comes like that when you're the child of a god. it begs to be created no matter how much you try to push it down or carve it out.
he wasn't always a singer.
when he was younger, and his voice still as high as the wheat fields that towered in the distance, he would play guitar for his brother. benten was always such a lovely dancer. he could move in a way that made you feel like you were watching sunlight sparkling on the water, glittering and waltzing like it's what he was born to do. and maybe he was.
juno wishes he had lived to dance a little longer.
he doesn't like to think about the day he lost benten. he doesn't like to remember the way ma's face had twitched into an expression almost resembling pleasure when juno asked where benten had gone. he doesn't like thinking about the scarf that he had found left behind at the gates to the underworld, still carrying benten's clean laundry scent. he can't stand to remember the way the station master's voice had rasped into an ugly laugh when juno had asked how he could get someone back from hadestown.
no one comes back from hadestown, little lady.
juno spent that sleepless night with tears pouring down his face, singing songs of mourning until his throat was raw and dawn was beginning to peak over the eastern horizon.
ma never apologized. juno never forgave her.
he could never really play the guitar again. it reminded him too much of benten. but song... the song felt good. natural. it eased its way out of his lungs as simple as breathing, something innate and instinctive that now just made sense to him.
juno supposed it was fitting that it should. lose a brother, gain a song. lose part of your world, gain a way to save the rest of it.
and he was going to save the rest of it.
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bi-hop · 4 months ago
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dedicating this chapter to this stupid ass video I have saved because I keep repeating "only... a little?" in a Norman Osborn voice while writing it
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vellichorius · 1 day ago
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We in Florida now… send help
wtf are u doing in florida my friend !!!
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pellucid-constellations · 4 months ago
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Trial and Error
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"
Word count: 2.2k
Warnings: A little angst
a/n: Okay this has taken over my brain. I hope you enjoy it!! You can read the previous little part here and part three here
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
“And what would happen then?” 
“I suppose then we would have to turn into giants, wouldn’t we?” 
“Giants. Really?” Melanie deadpanned as if she hadn’t just unraveled the most incoherent line of questioning you’d ever heard. Her new favorite game was “what if,” and you were apparently awful at it. 
“Well—” you began, pretending to think as you leaned against the counter and tapped your chin. “I guess we could just learn how to fly instead. That way we could go collect the, um… bunnies from the tops of the clouds.” 
“It’s cats, mommy, not bunnies. Why would a bunny be on a cloud?” 
“You are so right.” 
You pushed off the counter and continued restocking the shelves of the small apothecary that had employed you for the past few years. You had started out in Velaris working at a few small bars, but that hadn’t lasted long when they discovered you were pregnant. You had earned enough money to get a small apartment at that point, and you just so happened to find one above an apothecary owned by a rather wicked old woman. 
Lucky for you, she was a wicked old woman who no longer wanted to run her apothecary or deal with the space above it. So, you got a job and a place to live without many questions asked—a two-for-one miracle. 
“Maybe we could ask Nyx to take us up to the clouds,” Melanie pondered as she fiddled with a bundle of cloves by the register. 
“Who’s Nyx, sweetie?” you mindlessly asked. 
“A boy in my class. He has wings. He told me he can’t fly very high yet, but soon he’ll be able to.” 
You inhaled sharply through your nose. 
There were probably several boys in her class who had wings and were unrelated to the Illyrian man occupying your thoughts, right? 
You hummed in contemplation. “I don’t know, Melanie. Maybe Nyx could take you, but I might be too big for him to bring me up to the clouds.” 
“Oh, good idea, mommy! Nyx’s daddy can fly too and he can bring you. Or he has two uncles that could.” Your daughter stuck two fingers in the air with pride. “I wish I had wings. Mommy, did my daddy have wings?” 
You shook your head and abandoned the box at your feet to brush your daughter’s hair back instead. Going to school had opened doors to many questions you had been dreading, and Melanie’s questions about her dad had been coming in waves. 
“Your daddy didn’t have wings,” you began, looping a finger around her red curls. “But he did have hair just like yours.” 
Melanie tilted her head to the side. “Did you love my daddy? Nyx drew a picture at school of his mommy and daddy and said they love each other very much. Like as much as you love me.” 
You fought back a sigh. Nyx was causing you a plethora of issues and you hadn’t even met the kid. “Sometimes families look different,” you explained, running your hands down to brush off the dust on Melanie’s clothes that she’d surely obtained from playing in the apothecary. “I didn’t love your daddy, but that’s just because I had so much love saved up for you.” 
“Hmm…I hope you can have someone to love like how Nyx’s mommy has his daddy,” Melanie said after a small pause. And then she swung off the counter and started trekking up the stairs to the apartment as if she hadn’t just aged ten years with her statement. 
You blinked at the space she left, baffled by your five-year-old’s abruptness. She had only been at school for a week and was making revelations about your life that even you struggled to come to terms with. You let out a small sound of disbelief and made to follow your daughter up the stairs when the bell above the front door chimed. 
“Sorry, we’re closed for the—”
A boot heel clicking silenced your call.
His shadows came in before him, dark swirls instantly sweeping along the walls and wrapping up around the front counter. They didn’t touch you, but there was a hesitance about them that suggested they wanted to. You tore your gaze from their behavior to meet the eyes of the Illyrian from the school—the one you hadn’t seen since and definitely not because you were avoiding all situations where he could spot you. 
“Hello,” Azriel greeted with a calmness that was not reciprocated. “Are you closed? I can come back another time.” 
Every thought tumbled out of your brain. You had forgotten—almost—how intimidating he was. Not just in sheer size, but in the way he held himself, in the sharp planes of his face that smoothed into softness in the exact places they should. 
His wings pressed in towards his back as he took another step forward. The floor groaned beneath his weight. 
“Oh, um—” you uttered along with the straining floor. “We are—technically. But I can help you find something. Or place an order for you. No big deal.” 
“I wouldn’t want to keep you if you’re closed,” Azriel stressed. 
“No, no, it’s okay,” you nervously laughed. Act more normal. Act like there’s nothing… abnormal about you. “Anything for someone from Melanie’s school. What are you looking for?” 
Azriel hummed, his eyes lightning. “Ah, so you do remember me. I was wondering.” 
Was he looking at you strangely? Azriel kept trailing his gaze around the room and letting it land on your face, evaluating you… profiling you? 
You were being ridiculous. 
“Of course I do. You gave me great intel on the teacher. I don’t come until the bell rings now.” You rocked back on your heels and shifted your fidgeting hands behind your back. “Was there something specific I could help you with?” 
Azriel ignored your question for the second time. “Is that why I haven’t seen you? You come later?” 
Was he looking for you? 
A strange combination of excitement and trepidation made your stomach drop. 
Another nervous laugh. Your palms were sweating. “I guess so. There’s a lot to be done here so I usually wait until the last minute to close up shop and pick her up. That’s why your tip was so helpful.” 
Azriel narrowed his eyes in a way that echoed concern, but you refused to read into it. You balanced up onto your toes and fell back onto the soles of your feet. 
You could tell he wanted to say more about something—to ask more questions unrelated to the apothecary. But he stopped himself and the restraint was clear in the tenseness of his shoulders. 
“I get headaches,” Azriel shared. “Awful ones. I’ve tried healing magic and a few medicinal remedies, but I was hoping to find something herbal. Could you help me with that?” 
You breathed a sigh of relief and began rifling through a cabinet to your left. “I may have just the thing. I had terrible migraines when I was pregnant and it took me six tries to get this recipe perfect, but I think it would do the trick for you. I almost hate to share it because I was the one that had to suffer through all the bad batches, but I guess that’s kind of my job.” 
You pulled back from the cabinet with a small bottle in hand, a tiny rendition of your handwriting scrawled along the side. You rolled it in your hands for a moment until you saw the shimmering nature of the liquid inside, and then you held it out over the counter and offered Azriel a smile. He replicated it, but it was smaller and looked forced. 
“You didn’t have anyone else to try it out on?” he asked. 
The question twisted something deep within your chest, but you only grinned and ignored the tightness of your jaw. “Who better than the one with the migraines herself?” 
Azriel breathed a laugh through his nose, his eyes not leaving yours. “I suppose that’s true.” 
The flecks in his eyes had you paralyzed, unable to move as his gaze held yours. You were breathless, fist tightening around the small tonic still held out in front of you as Azriel reached forward and grabbed it. His skin brushed yours. You shivered. 
Azriel’s lips parted to speak. “Where are you—”
A loud thump from upstairs cut him off. 
Azriel started, his chin clipping up and his body tensing. He quickly looked back down to you with a panicked question in his eyes. 
You fought for the words to say. If you revealed it was only Melanie, he would know where you lived—another piece of information you liked to keep close. But if you didn’t tell him, that could lead to something worse. He looked about ready to bolt up the stairs and battle your five-year-old. 
The decision was made for you when Melanie came bounding down the steps with a bowl in one hand and a large wooden spoon in the other. 
“Mommy,” she began with a lax posture that did not match the room. “Can I—Oh, hi, Mr. Azriel. What’re you doing at my house?” 
Melanie’s interpretation of his name included an extra syllable, and she was still working on pronouncing Zs, but the Illyrian ignored that. “Your house?” he asked. His attention was fully on Melanie, but he sent you a raised brow. 
“Um, yes. We live above the apothecary. Melanie sometimes forgets that it’s a business downstairs and not just a private playground,” you explained, rubbing your forearm in discomfort. Azriel tracked the movement. 
“Ah, well, it does seem rather fun down here. I can see the confusion.” 
Melanie perked up, waving the spoon in front of your face. “See, mommy? There’s lots to play with.” 
One of the tightly bound coils in your chest loosened as you shot Azriel a look. “Great. You’re encouraging her.” 
“I’ve been an uncle for a few years,” Azriel smiled, rolling the headache tonic between his hands. “I’ve gotten quite good at encouraging terrible things.” 
You laughed with a huff and placed a hand on Melanie’s head, bending down to meet her gaze. “Were you going to ask me for dinner? I’ll be up in just a few minutes. I was just putting a few things away.” 
“I know, mommy,” she nodded. Then, after a quick look at Azriel from the corner of her eye, she whispered, “Is Mr. Azriel having dinner with us? Nyx has been asking about when we have dinner and said to keep the question a secret, but maybe that’s why he’s here.” 
A few feelings barraged you at once. Confusion over your daughter's words; fear that the night court’s inner circle seemed to be asking questions about you; regret that you had given into Melanie’s pleas to go to school so readily. 
But Nyx was just a child—perhaps he asked everyone when they had dinner and Melanie was just connecting dots that weren’t there. 
But maybe that wasn’t the case. 
Maybe Azriel came to the apothecary specifically because you worked there and he was trying to gather intel for the Autumn Court. It had to be common knowledge that the daughter of one of Beron’s men had run away. But Night and Autumn weren’t on the best terms. That’s why you chose Velaris to—
You couldn’t do this right now. 
Not in front of Melanie and certainly not in front of Azriel. 
You pressed your lips into a firm line and whispered back, “No, he came to buy something from mommy’s shop. It’s just us for dinner, like always.” 
A sliver of disappointment fractured Melanie’s gaze. She hooked her chin over her shoulder and sent Azriel a small smile before disappearing into the apartment once more. You wiped your palms on the front of your pants as you stood, taking a breath to calm your raging anxiety. 
“Sorry, she…” 
“It’s alright,” Azriel dismissed. You looked at him for the first time in a few moments, his expression pinched and difficult to read. “I’m around Nyx a lot. You don’t have to apologize.” 
A beat of silence. 
The room was cloaked in unrealized tension. You weren’t sure if it was fueled by suspicion or something else. For you, it was, but the wistful way Azriel continued to linger on your figure was read as something else. Something older, more entrenched.
“It’s just two coppers.” You broke the silence, gesturing to the tonic still held between Azriel’s fingers—his scarred fingers, you then realized. You looked back up to his face.
“Only two? After all it took for you to make it?” 
You felt your mouth twist at the corner despite yourself. “I don’t know if you’ve seen this place, but it’s not exactly up to par with the rest of the apothecaries. I’m surprised you found it, to be honest. My customers are typically ancient fae with boils and warts.” 
“Sorry to disappoint,” Azriel teased. He searched through his pocket and placed a small sum of money on the counter between you. “Five coppers—for interrupting dinner.” 
“I hadn’t even—” 
“Goodbye, y/n.” 
You watched him go, not noticing the shadow that lingered in the corner. 
part three
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daycourtofficial · 2 days ago
Text
Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only, only one
Pairing: Eris x reader x Azriel | WC: 3.5k | warnings: none
Summary: secrets threaten to swallow you whole as you work up the courage to tell Azriel about being his mate. Unfortunately, you aren’t the only one with secrets
Author’s note: this came from a draft I found BURIED okay I was looking for a different azris x reader draft but found this and had to finish it
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Today was the day. Everything lined up - Feyre and Rhys were at the River House hosting an overnight play date for Nyx and one of his friends. Cassian and Nesta had taken some of the Valkyries to Day to see the pegasi. Mor was somewhere on the continent. Amren was likely at her apartment, but she came by less and less frequently these days.
The sun had just set, the night sky bright and endless as it hovered over the House of Wind. You and Azriel had the entire place to yourselves.
It was a sign from the Mother. You had to tell him. You stood before your mirror, wanting every piece of hair to fall perfectly into place. You took a few deep breaths, failing to calm the beating of your heart.
Everything was going to change. You smiled at your reflection, certain that everything will work out. It had to.
So what if Azriel had pined after two females that weren’t you? That didn’t matter. Not when he was always so kind to you, seeking you out during parties. He always sat next to you at dinner, the two of you fully engaged in conversation the entire time.
His pining toward Mor and then Elain always felt strange to you. It never happened around you, you hardly saw him even glance their way. You only knew about it from Cassian’s love of gossip.
“It should be you he focuses on - the two of you are so similar. And so annoying.”
His words likely meant nothing to him - especially the end when you had stolen food from his plate. But his words echoed in your mind, echoed around the string nearly suffocating your heart.
The two of you were well suited. You complemented each other. Surely, if he didn’t love you now, Azriel could grow to love you. It should be easy.
Would you want someone who had to grow to love you? You shook the thought from your head, certain the Mother wouldn’t lead you astray like that.
Your thoughts led you outside his door. The words had laid dormant on your tongue for too long, weeks going by without admitting the truth to him.
You knocked on his door quickly, not wanting nerves to get the better of you. You couldn’t help lightly bouncing on your feet as you waited, listening to the shuffles behind the door. Each sound of footfalls made your heart rate quicken.
Azriel poked his head out the door, a small smile when his eyes fell on you.
“Sorry to intrude, but can I come in? I want to talk to you about something.”
Surprise at your demand showed on his face, but he opened the door wider, letting you come in. The sight of you in his room wasn’t unheard of, but you had never so boldly asked to come in.
You walked through the threshold, noticing immediately a suitcase on his bed, nearly full before his shadows quickly closed and latched the lid.
“Are you going somewhere?” You couldn’t stop the question from coming out.
“I was going to take a few days to myself. Enjoy some quiet at my cabin.”
Your heart had been bursting with secrets lately. Months ago Azriel had confided in you he had a cabin somewhere he liked to hide away in when he needed to get away.
That tidbit of knowledge was secured deep in your fantasies, a story you told yourself before going to sleep about him whisking you away to his cabin.
“Oh - well, I hope I’m not interrupting your need for peace.”
“Nonsense. I find your presence quite peaceful, anyway.” Your heart was in your throat at his words. His casual admittance giving you just enough strength to be bold.
“That is very kind of you. I find your presence to also be peaceful and delightful.” He smiled down at you, his full attention on your words. That was always what drew you to Azriel the most. You have always had his full attention whenever you spoke to him, and he always recalled the smallest of details from your conversations.
He saw you. He noticed you. The Mother made him for you and you for him.
“Well, Azriel. We are friends, right? And friends tell each other things and are honest, right?” You wrung your hands with your fingers, needing something to expel your nervous energy.
“Yes. I am always honest with you.” His words came out with a slight chuckle, a tilt to his head, wondering where this was going.
“Great. I have actually been keeping something from you for a while. At first I had to take some time myself to understand, and then I was waiting for the right time.”
“Go on.” He looked radiant with the light of the moon cutting across his face. No male could compare to his beauty. His words of encouragement and his smile at your nervousness were all you needed for the words to come tumbling out.
“I am in love with you. I have been for a long time, and I kept it to myself, but a few weeks ago, the mating bond snapped and I-“
“A mating bond?” His words were sharper than you had ever heard him speak to you before. His shadows swirled around your feet, occasionally jumping and leaping to reach you, but never quite making it.
“Yes, it-“
“You’re certain?” His words were making you shrink ever so slightly. The shadows had now begun swirling around the two of you, like they were trapping the two of you into a bubble.
“Yes, it-“
“To me?”
You tugged hard on the bond, pulling as hard as you could to release him from the shocked stupor he was in. It knocked him off balance, his feet stuttering forward before he righted himself. His scarred hands rubbed absently at his chest, his brows knitted in confusion.
“Let me finish, Azriel.” The shadows that had been swirling around the two of you floated down, sweeping across the floor. A few moved toward you, swirling around your body, helping you stay upright.
He didn’t listen to your words, only shook his head in response. He dragged his fingers down his face, muttering something you couldn’t quite make out.
He looked once more at you before he reached out, his hands taking hold of your shoulders before the two of you were whisked through space in his shadows.
“Azriel!” You pushed off of him the second you felt solid ground beneath your feet, putting distance between the two of you. “This is not what I hoped-“
“Be quiet.”
Your eyes widened at his words, taking a moment to take in your surroundings. He winnowed the two of you right in front of a cabin door, the structure surrounded on all sides by thick forest.
“Okay Azriel, you could have just rejected me - not bring me to who knows where.” You ignored his command, irritation lacing your words.
“No, I just- wait here.” He shut the door quickly behind himself, leaving you alone. Your heart felt heavy as you looked about the woods, uncertain if you wanted to know what laid in the darkness.
Whatever scent lingered from beneath the door was familiar, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. You were stuck - you could winnow home, you supposed. But why did he bring you out here? Would he leave you out here, wanting to know how long you’d stay and wait? Surely the bond would make him protective enough to let you die from the elements, right? The thought caused the string around your heart to play a sad, out of tune note.
You weren’t sure how long you were standing outside, a brisk breeze making you well aware of your lack of coat. The door opened once more, Azriel coming back out before he quickly shut the door behind himself, not letting you see inside.
“Az, what are we doing here?”
He held out a hand to you, his other back on the knob of the door.
“I have never brought anyone from the Inner Circle here.”
You grew frustrated at his words, a tiny hint of pride at being the first of your family to visit here. You accepted his hand, noting there really wasn’t any other decision you could make.
He opened the door and you took in the space. It was small - just the one room connected to a kitchen. It held a massive bed - somehow larger than the ones in Velaris. There wasn’t much in the way of decorations - the house was void of any indication of who lived in it. Your eyes stopped on the redheaded male who was moving about the kitchen, the sight of him short circuiting your brain.
“You said you’ve never brought anyone else here before.” Somehow amidst all the confusion, that was what your brain settled on.
“He said no one from the Inner Circle had been here. The door’s not as thick as you are, Azriel.” Eris’s voice was full of chastisement, clicking his tongue at the end to accent his point. You glanced between the pair, even more confused now that Eris had opened his mouth, the comment almost affectionate.
You shook your head, dismissing the thought. “Look, Az, I get it, this is something you don’t want-“ “Now I didn’t say-“ “so we can just go back to Velaris and I can move out.”
“What is she talking about?” Eris’s voice was loud to accomodate for the banging of pots and pans. He was cooking something, the cherry on top of ‘well, why not this too?’
You looked up at the ceiling, fighting back tears to what has quickly become the worst moment of your life. This was all so strange, you were certain you had hit your head somewhere, your body likely unconscious in Azriel’s room. Maybe none of this happened, and you fell on something in your room.
When you woke up, you were certainly never confessing to him.
“Tell him.” Azriel’s prodding words confused you even more. You looked at him in bewilderment. He had the same look on his face he does when he’s about to win a card game - no matter what move you make, he’s right in his assessment.
“Tell him? Azriel I think telling someone they’re your mate and them not wanting it is embarrassing enough, why do we have to drag in a spectator?”
His face fell slightly, something pooling in his eyes you couldn’t quite make out.
“Why do you think Azriel is your mate?”
You cocked your head at Eris, never having officially met him. You would recognize him anywhere - the long red hair, the ornate clothes decorated with autumn leaves, the scent of bonfire and whiskey stuck to him.
No one in the Inner Circle had ever told you how stunning he was, his beauty making other males look like mortals next to him. Except Azriel.
“I assume we can skip the pleasantries, Eris. Every facet of this night is more confusing than the last. Why are you cooking?”
“Because otherwise I will die of starvation. Or be even more intolerable due to hunger.”
You wished for a wall behind you to bang your head into. They may have omitted his beauty, but they weren’t wrong about him being difficult.
“Why are you in Azriel’s cabin?”
“I asked my question first.”
“Well, Eris, if you must know the inner workings of my personal life, Azriel is my mate and instead of being happy or even indifferent he brought me here to you for some reason. Can I go now?” The tears started forming in the corner of your eye, your fist clenched as you spoke.
“No,” they replied in unison, not looking at you. They both mirrored each other, their crossed arms not giving anything away as they silently argued, unsure when Azriel moved closer to Eris. You could make out a few words from the hushed tones, but it was impossible to hear them.
It took you a moment to realize Eris had stopped cooking when Azriel approached. He was giving him his full attention as they spoke to each other.
This was a very odd dream indeed.
“I’ve felt a pull to you.” Azriel was still looking at Eris, and you weren’t certain who he was talking to until he shifted his eyes to you. “I have always been drawn to you, needed to be near you. I didn’t want to think we were mates, because Eris is my mate.”
You blinked multiple times, the idea trying to make itself comprehensible to you. You looked around, certain to find some trace Rhysand had built this imaginary reality as a practical joke.
“No, that's not possible. If it’s not me, it had to be because of Elain or Mor.”
Eris scoffed, his annoyance clear across his face, his movements becoming more hurried as he added things to a pot. “Sorry to disappoint the both of you by not having breasts.”
“Eris.” An admonishing hiss from Azriel caused the Autumn heir to roll his eyes, not even looking at the glare the shadowsinger sent him.
“Forgive me. Forgive my mate for his deceits being so well done it fooled even his female mate.” Eris refused to pull his focus from his cooking, hardly acknowledging you with his body.
“Azriel and I have been together for some time, a rouse that is perpetuated by his supposed infatuation with the other females close to you.”
For some reason, his words stung. Azriel had been faking affection for them? If he could do that, why didn't he fake them for you?
As if reading your thoughts, Eris continued. “He was feeling something for you, something he hardly wanted to admit to me. But we have been looking into it. It seems no one has ever had this.”
“Had what?”
“Two mates.”
Your head was reeling, a migraine forming as you tried to process every bit of information you were given. Something gnawed at you - some insecurity making itself known in this odd circumstance.
“Were you getting close to me as an experiment?” That drew Azriel from his silence, his steps moving toward you.
“No - gods no. I like you, I like spending time with you. I’m drawn to you - I can’t help it.”
“He yearns.” Eris’s voice was flat as hid words came out, Azriel quickly spun on his heel and looked toward his mate.
His other mate, you supposed.
“I do not yearn.”
“You complain about missing her when you’re here.” Azriel’s cheeks heated in embarrassment, the first sense of affection you've felt from him since arriving.
Eris stopped stirring, turning his full attention toward you. His gaze left heat all across you, as if his eyes could penetrate your clothes, seeing your body and soul beneath. You can’t tell if he’s making the room warmer or if that’s just you.
“In the concept of honesty, I have to say you are… something.” His words broke you out of whatever stupor you had found yourself in.
“Thank you, Eris. That is the best non-descript compliment or insult I’ve ever received.”
“It’s not an insult.” You scoffed, uncertain how to respond. He straightened himself, standing tall as he continued. “Do you wish for me to wax poetic about my mate’s new mate? Divine, delectable, take your pick.”
Was he flirting with you? The notion made no sense, but something Azriel told you about Eris years ago had always stuck.
If you want to get anywhere with him, you have to play his game.
“My mate has a very pretty mate.” It was true and something Eris was more than aware of about himself. He scoffed, picking up a spoon and going back to cooking, but you continued. “Should I wax poetic about you, hm? Tell you all about how you look like a predator prepared to pounce and I’d be more than willing to be beneath you?”
Eris stopped his cooking, his spoonclattering as he took his time drinking you in.
“I thought you said she was timid and shy?” His question was directed at Azriel, but he kept looking at you. His gaze stayed on you, not wavering, seeing something he found interesting.
“That’s because Azriel runs at the potential for intimacy, I had to ease him into it.” Something close to a laugh escaped from Eris. His gaze finally moved toward the shadowsinger.
“I like her, Azriel. We can keep her.”
“I am not some toy to claim ownership to.” Eris paid you no mind, turning back to his cooking. You couldn’t figure out what he was making, but it smelled divine.
“Of course not, but you are my mate’s mate and that means I have to like you before making decisions about you.” Your heart stalled at his words, the air getting thinner around you.
“What do you mean by decisions?”
“Eris.” Azriel cut in for the first time in a while, and you would have forgotten about his presence if it hadn’t been for the bond humming.
“Well, I mean he is my mate already. He’s accepted the bond with me. If I didn’t like you, he’d just reject you.”
“He wouldn’t just-“ your words stopped, your statement unable to continue. Your throat went dry with the look Azriel gave Eris. It was a split second, but it was enough.
They clearly had discussed it - some topic they had mulled over several times, working through every scenario. Eris’s words were of such nonchalance, such subtle cruelty.
They would decide to shatter your heart without any thought or input from you.
It was getting hot, your clothes too much on your skin. Your breathing rose again, too shallow to fully take in a breath.
“So you’ve been- what? Keeping it a secret for months that Eris is your mate and that I’m your mate? Were you test running me this whole time?” Your voice came out squeaky, but you were too upset to care.
“No, I didn’t know-“ Azriel was scrambling, his eyes pleading with the truth. “I didn’t know, I was curious-“
“I mean, I knew you kept secrets, but this is- Eris and-“ your breaths were coming shorter and shorter, the cabin swaying slightly as it got harder to breathe. This couldn’t be real, it had to be some fictional reality. The bond in your chest was crying in agony, desperate for you to be closer to Azriel and to stop arguing.
“Azriel, she's self-destructing.” Eris didn’t move from his spot, continuing his cooking as if you had made an astute observation about the weather.
“I can see that.”
“Do something. She’s your mate.”
You pushed the hair from your face, straightening your shoulders. You blinked slowly, trying to clear your gaze. You had been a fool this whole time, that much was true. You were an experiment to Az - this whole time he had his suspicions, and you were nothing but a test subject he could drop at a moment’s notice. The collateral damage of your heart meant nothing to him.
He had Eris. Why would he want you?
“It’s clear now that you already have your hands full, Azriel. I’ll bow out respectfully.” The words came out cold, not a hint of the warmth you felt for Azriel laced them.
“Sweetheart-“
His shadows swirled around you, desperate to keep you close, to pull you closer to him. You batted them away, not wanting their comfort.
They knew. Azriel knew. Eris knew. This was all a joke to them.
“I’d be a fool to compete with Eris Vanserra over anything, including you Azriel. You’ve told me a hundred times how Autumn Court males sink their teeth into things and don’t let go.” Had his words been a warning? Had he been mated to him when he told you that? How far did these lies run? “Clearly you know from experience.”
You winnowed away, Azriel’s hand inches from where you stood. His shadows exploded, several moving around Eris, the Autumn heir batting them away with little effort.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Azriel directed all of his anger toward Eris.
“You were my mate first.”
“You practically pissed all over me, marking your territory. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut for me to speak!”
“Shall I hike up my leg? I thought such things didn’t interest you.”
Azriel breathed deeply, clenching and unclenching his fists to keep his anger in check.
“Besides, you wouldn’t speak. You clammed up.”
“We discussed this. You knew how important this was to me. This all went wrong.” Azriel was tugging at his hair, the bond swirling in his chest with your despair.
“Yes, yes. I know how my mate was quite taken with a female he lives with. Forgive me for not being thrilled.” Eris let the tiniest hint of hurt show on his face, his first display of emotion all night. Azriel spotted it immediately, his anger dissipating slightly.
“She might be your mate, too.” Azriel’s words were a whisper, a soft hope he was speaking into existence. The Mother wouldn’t give him two mates who hated each other, would she?
Eris gave a dismissive look Azriel’s way. “I suppose we’ll never know now.”
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Divider by @tsunami-of-tears
Author’s note: any ideas for part two 👀
Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl
Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124
Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin @magicstrengthandcourage @slytherintaco @userxs-blog @emryb
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bookwormjust · 9 days ago
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Pickup Duty (established relationship with Azriel, a little demand by your nephew)
The warm afternoon sun filtered through the windows of the townhouse, casting a soft glow across the room. You were sitting with Feyre, sipping tea and chatting about your latest projects when Nyx bounded into the room, full of energy as usual after spending the day outside.
“Mama!” Nyx called, his small wings fluttering excitedly behind him as he ran over to Feyre. His violet eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked between you and his mother, clearly with something on his mind.
Feyre smiled at him, brushing her fingers through his tousled hair. “What is it, sweetheart?”
Nyx glanced up at you, his expression bright with curiosity. “Can Auntie come take me from school tomorrow? Please?”
His request caught you by surprise, and you exchanged a quick glance with Feyre, who raised an amused eyebrow. Nyx’s innocent, hopeful expression was impossible to resist, and you could feel your heart soften at his excitement.
Feyre chuckled softly, pulling her son into her lap. “You want Auntie to pick you up from school?” she asked, teasing him gently. “Why not me or your father?”
Nyx grinned, his little wings flapping as he giggled. “Because Auntie is fun! She promised we could get sweets after school if she picked me up.”
You laughed softly, realizing you might have mentioned something along those lines during one of your previous visits. “Ah, I see. So that’s why I’m the favorite today.”
Azriel had entered the room by this point, his shadows trailing behind him as he crossed the threshold. His hazel eyes softened when he saw you, but his expression quickly shifted to one of amusement as he took in Nyx’s excited demeanor.
“What’s this about sweets?” Azriel asked, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, the barest hint of a smile on his lips.
Nyx turned toward his uncle, his wings giving an extra flutter of excitement. “Auntie’s gonna pick me up from school tomorrow!”
Azriel’s brows lifted, and he shot you a look, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Oh, is she now?”
You shrugged, unable to keep the smile off your face. “Apparently, I’ve been chosen for pickup duty.”
Feyre looked between all of you, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Well, if it’s all right with your aunt and uncle, then I suppose I don’t see why not.”
Nyx cheered, clapping his hands before launching himself toward you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Thank you, Auntie!”
You laughed, ruffling his hair affectionately. “All right, little one. But you have to behave in school tomorrow if you want those sweets, deal?”
“Deal!” Nyx agreed enthusiastically, his eyes bright with excitement.
Azriel watched the scene unfold, his shadows swirling around him in a slow, lazy dance. His gaze met yours across the room, and despite his calm demeanor, you could see the fondness in his expression. He stepped closer, gently pulling Nyx off you and hoisting him up onto his shoulder with ease. Nyx squealed with delight as Azriel’s wings flared slightly, steadying the boy as he balanced on his uncle’s broad shoulder.
“And what happens if Nyx doesn’t behave tomorrow?” Azriel asked, his voice laced with teasing.
Nyx pouted playfully, shaking his head. “I’ll be good, I promise, Uncle Az!”
Azriel chuckled, casting you a sidelong glance. “I’ll hold him to that. Though I have a feeling you’re the one spoiling him more than his parents.”
You smiled innocently, leaning back in your chair. “Well, what are aunties for if not a little spoiling?”
Feyre laughed at that, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. “Exactly. Besides, Rhys and I could use a little break sometimes.”
Azriel gave Nyx a final toss in the air before catching him again, setting him back on his feet with ease. He turned to you, one eyebrow raised as his lips quirked up into a half-smile. “Seems like you’ve got yourself a busy day tomorrow. Don’t let him con you into too many sweets.”
Nyx giggled, running back to Feyre, but not before giving you one last enthusiastic wave.
You looked up at Azriel, who was now standing beside you, his wings folded neatly behind him. His eyes were warm as he gazed down at you, the smallest smile lingering on his lips.
“I think you might be his favorite person now,” Azriel said softly, his voice laced with amusement.
You grinned, reaching up to gently touch his arm. “He knows how to work his charm, just like his father.”
Azriel chuckled at that, leaning down to brush a soft kiss against your forehead. “Well, just don’t let him talk you into too many extra sweets. Otherwise, Rhys will have something to say about it.”
You laughed softly, leaning into him as his arm wrapped around your shoulders. “I’ll do my best.”
As you stood there together, watching Nyx babble on to Feyre about his plans for tomorrow, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. This was your family, and moments like this—filled with warmth, love, and laughter—made you appreciate it all the more.
And tomorrow, as you picked Nyx up from school and indulged in a few treats together, you’d know that you were making memories that would last a lifetime.
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sarawritestories · 11 months ago
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You Are Not a Burden
Cassian X Fem Reader
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Summary: You have been tasked with going to the Spring Court to check in on Tamlin for Rhys. Though You and the High Lord do not get along and this visit leaves you injured and doubting your abilities in Rhys and Feryre's court and in the Inner Circle.
Content Warning: Angst, Aggression, injury, Stubbornness, Self doubt, barely proof read.
ACOTAR MASTERLIST
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: I hope you enjoy this angsty fic that has some really good fluff at the end.
Exhaustion had been your constant companion in the past weeks. Doing emissary work between Summer and the Day Court had been successful and have been in good company with Tarquin and Helion, who have always loved when you come to visit. Though standing on the dilapidated building of the Spring Court, you wished you could be anywhere else. The territory has been neglected as shown by the dead plants and the Mansion looking like no one has stayed there in centuries in a matter of months. The once rich color of the land had dulled, and the people of this court have suffered just as much as the land.
Rhys had asked you personally to touch base with him as you were already traveling to nearby territories and seeing the exhaustion on his face mostly from taking care of Nyx and not wanting to have Feyre endure going back there you agree. The relief in his eyes made it worth being here though it meant that you would be apart from your mate for weeks as Cassian was at the Illyrian camps handling Devlon and making sure the camps were staying in line. The time apart has left an ache in your heart, but the work has been a great distraction.
Shaking your mind from your thoughts and sending love down the bond that links you to your General. There was a warmth that took over your body as he sent warmth and comfort through the bond. Taking a breath you raise your hand and ready to knock on the door when the door opens, and your eyes meet Emerald ones. “I could hear your heart rate spike. What do you want?”
You straighten your posture, “I was in the area, I wanted to check in.”
Tamlin scowls, “Consider me checked in. You can go run to your High Lord and your Bastard, like the good little Bitch you are.”
He is about to shut the door when you breach your boot against the frame preventing it from shutting, ignoring how his blow hit his mark and gave a knowing smirk placing the mask Rhys has taught you “Look who got his bark back.” You rolled your eyes, “Can I please come in? The sooner we have an adult conversation the sooner I can leave, and you can wallow in whatever pity party you’re hosting for yourself.”
His claws peeked over his knuckles, “Why do you care, you sure as hell didn’t care when you took Feyre from me? You sure as hell did not care when your High Lord let her come in and destroy my territory.”
You cross your arms, “Tamlin, Feyre, wanted to do that on her own, there was no coercing on our end. As for your territory...you were a ticking time bomb. Your people were getting frustrated with your rule. Feyre just sped up the process. Maybe it’s time you stop blaming others for what happened in your court and take some responsibility.”
In a flash Tamlin tackles you to the ground, your head hitting the concrete at the bottom of the stairs, your vision blurred slightly as Tamlin’s claw clamps around your neck and squeezes, “I want you to listen very carefully,” He snarls and you wince, “You don’t get to judge me when its apparent there is no use for you in that vile court you call home. Rhys and Feyre have no use for you other than sending out and parade around in other territories.” He smirked as a tear escape cascading down your cheek, “I’m sure you are only good for warming your general’s cock and sitting prettily on his lap.” You wince as his blow landed some of your deepest insecurities being confirmed by the person you hate the most. “You are not welcome in my territory and if I catch your scent even in my territory, I will kill you. Leaving your Corpse on your bastard mate’s doorstep.”
He presses his face close to hers causing a whimper, “Get. Out,” he whispered and ripped away from your body the sound of a door slamming solidifying that the High Lord of the spring had slithered back into his tomb. You laid facing the sky the beautiful sight of the sky a stark contrast of what transpired.  For a moment not fully aware of how that escalated quickly, and your hand gravitated to your neck and tears began to pool. You make sure that your bond was locked so your emotions were not flooding to Cassian as he was out checking on his armies.
You stood and the ground began to spin briefly before steadying yourself a sharp pain stung behind your eyes and you touched the back of your head and something wet and warm met your fingertips. You look at your hand and find blood dripping down to your wrist, without a second glance to the manor, you winnowed back to Velaris. You ended up on Madja’s doorstep and you stunned the older Fae healer, “Oh dear, let’s get you checked out” Madja brought you inside and tried to tend to your injuries.
The familiar mental claws scraped your mental shield as Madja had you lay in her cot checking your neck to make sure Tamlin didn’t do any permanent damage as a bruise in the shape of a hand was blooming across your skin. You open your shield enough to let your High Lord come in.
“Home so soon?” Rhy’s voice was a mixture of surprise and concern, “Was your trip constructive?”
You take a steadying breath Tamlin’s words began to bubble up. You tamper it down just enough to keep it from Rhys and replied, “Yes my report, will be on your desk in a few days.”
“I’m glad you’re home, Cassian and Azriel are on their way as we speak so we’re having family dinner tonight at the River House.”
“I’ll be there. I am going to rest it’s been a long journey, and I haven’t been sleeping well.”
Rhys chuckled, “I’m sure Cassian will be more than happy to help tire you out when he sees you. He has already promised to kick my ass for keeping him away from you for this long.”
You smile briefly, and once again Tamlin’s words tried to bubble on the surface causing you stress. Rhys must have picked up on the shift of your feelings, “You sure you’re okay. Tamlin give you a hard time?”
“Rhysand, I’m fine, I’m just tired. I’ll see you at dinner.” You put your shield up before he had a chance to press further on the subject, and let unconsciousness claim you.
~Later That Evening~
You make your way down to the dining room of the River House, your plumb colored gown swishing against your bare feet. The high neckline that has a cut out that compliments your breast is why you chose this. Madja was able to close the wound on your head but the dark purple bruise dawning on your neck was going to have to heal on its own. The sound of laughter flooded your ears and the sound usually brings a smile to your face but this time insecurities run rampant.
They don’t need you.
You don’t belong.
You don’t bring anything to this group. They are better off without you.
You wince at the last one, but you school your features and put on a smile and walk into the dining room. The laughter died out and nerves racked down your body by the silence your lips turning down slightly, “Don’t mind me,” You whisper as you make your way down to the empty chair next to your mate. Your heart stopped at the sight of him as he rose from his seat to approach you. Being out in the mountains in the Fall sunshine his skin had darkened a shade and there was stubble along his face that made your toes curl. He was devastatingly handsome, his hair in a clean bun and his leathers been replaced by a dark button up shirt and dress pants.
“Hey, Sweetheart,” Cassian scooped you in his arms and spun you around. Placing you down he steals a kiss from you, “I missed you. I was so happy to hear you were home early.”
His hand grazed down your face and as he neared your neck wiggled out of his grasp and got on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek and gave him a small smile, “Me too, General.” You take your seat, and You see Cassian take his, his brows furrowed.  The food appeared and everyone gave approval
Feyre looked at you and gave her smile, “How is Tarquin and Helion, I hope they are doing well and treated you well.”
You are only good at parading to other courts.
You cleared your throat as fiddle with the food on your plate not having a solid “They are fine, warm and loving as always.”
“Rhys and Feyre have no use for you… you are only good for warming your general’s cock and sitting prettily on his lap.” The image of Tamlin snarling in your face and his hand squeezing your neck.
Rhys stilled his head shot up and his eyes met yours, your eyes widened and slam your mental shields up. Cassian’s head swiveled between his brother and you and guilt washes over you as he realizes that you have him locked out of the bond. “How was the Spring Court?” Rhys asked tension seeping into the room. Cassian’s head whipped to Rhys.
Feyre also stilled, “You sent her to the Spring Court?” she whispered her food forgotten. Mor poured more wine and filled Amren and Azriel’s goblets. Azriel’s shadows almost obscured him from view and Amren leaned against her chair and sipped her goblet.
Cassian’s grip on his fork tightened his knuckles turning white, “I chose to go,” I whispered. I reach my hand to grip Ferye’s across from me, “It was fine. I was banned but that was the only thing that happened,” Feyre didn’t return her smile.
Rhys jaw locked, “Don’t lie.”
Cassian through gritted teeth, “Someone tell me what’s going on right now!”  Rhys made eye contact with the General and his eyes went vacant along with Feyre’s. He was showing both yours and his mates the image that slipped. When the connection was severed you saw that the General had tears in his eyes as rage contorted his features. Feyre had tears streaming down her face.
You rise from your seat tears threatening, “I’m fine. I can handle myself. I’m so sorry that I ruined Family Dinner with this.” You fled and could hear Cassian call out your name as you winnowed to the door of the House of Wind and took the 10,000 steps to the top. You are aloud yourself to fall apart and sobs racked your whole body. Emotions swirling, of the pain on Feyre’s face and the pure rage on Cassian’s, the venomous truth that Tamlin spewed to you and when you reached the top. You moved as quickly as you could despite your thighs burning from the trek up the steps.
You reached the bedroom and were greeted by Hazel eyes, and you sniffled, “Cassian,” You whispered.
The General was leaning against the bed post with his arms and ankles crossed his eyes red rimmed, “Why did you block me out?” His voice was quiet and pained, his knuckles were bloody.
You open the bond and worry is sent down to him, “You’re hurt,” you whisper not looking away from his knuckles.
 He looks down at his hands and his eyes meet yours and they soften at your worry and relief shimmers down that bridge between him and you. “The blood isn’t mine. It’s Rhys’,” He shrugged, and you bit your lip, Cassian sighs and pushes of the post and approaches you and you avert your eyes. “He’s fine, he could have fought me off, he let me get the hits in. He felt guilty.”
“Why?” You ask, taking a step away from the door and approaching him.
Cassian stared at you in disbelief as he brought his arms down, pushing off the post to close the distance between the two of you. “Because he purposely put you in danger sending you to Tamlin’s territory. That the bruise your hiding behind that neckline is his fault.” Your eyes widened, “Rhys had stopped by Madja, and she told him she was worried about you.” You nod briefly, “We’re all worried about you. Especially Rhys and myself.”
You shake your head, “It wasn’t. I went willingly. I may have pushed Tamlin’s buttons, and he got the up on me.” You whisper, “It’s not Rhys’ fault it was mine.”
Cassian cupped your face in his hands, “Rhys was aware that you and Tamlin do not get along. He also knew that you wouldn’t say no whereas anyone else would have. As your High Lord and more importantly your friend, he should not have put you in that situation.”
You wrap your fingers around his hands that are still cupping your face, “Tamlin wasn’t wrong though.” Cassian’s face fell at your admission. Tears trailed down your cheek, “I feel like I don’t have a job that is really helping this court, but I can’t fight like everyone else and sometimes I feel like Rhys and Feyre really don’t know what to do with me.” Cassian wipes her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m even a good enough friend to be part of the Inner Circle. Then what he said about you.” You closed your eyes, “I know you love me. I know you value me as a friend, partner, mate and wife, but I think back to the number of times you have had to reassure me and take care of me. I can’t help but feel like a burden to you and this court.”
“Oh Sweetheart,” His voice cracked as he picked you up and led you to the bathroom where he took a moment to change you out of your gown. His eyes were flaring with anger at the sight of the bruise. He puts on one of your favorite night gowns that is red and black. He guides you to the vanity back in the bedroom and has you sit as he begins to brush your hair. “There has never been a moment since you came into my life where I ever found you as a burden. You have been such a bright light in my life, your smile brightens the room and even on my worst day that same smile always melts my problems away. You have the affect on the team too, your easy and calm demeanor grounds everyone even Amren.” He meets your gaze through the mirror with his smile that always settles your nerves. “Your charm is perfect for dealing with temperamental High Lords which is why Feyre and Rhys have you go out and touch base with them every now and then. They like you and find comfort in your presence.”
He kisses your cheek and turns you so that you’re facing him, “I love you, You have never under any circumstances simply been someone who warms my cock.” You give him a small smile and his eyes light up at the upward tick of your lips. “I love your kindness, and your bravery. Most importantly it’s your willingness to drop anything for anyone, no questions asked. People know they can come to you for a listening ear, a shopping spree. You even know when I just need to hold you after a difficult mission, and you don’t pry but you somehow know what any one of us needs at any given moment. That’s special, Sweetheart, you’re special.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I will happily remind you of that, everyday from now until my heart stops beating that you are NOT a burden.” Another kiss to your lips briefly before he pulls away.
You feel tears flooding out one more time as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck taking in his scent. “I was nervous, that if you sensed my dread and fear down the bond, you would have shown up in the Spring Court. That’s why I blocked you out and I really wish I hadn’t. I thought he was going to kill me he even told me as much.” Cassian stilled at the admission but did not say anything as you continued, “Then when I got here all I could think about was how I couldn’t inconvenience anyone to help. I was cowardly and didn’t want Rhys to think I failed him. Failed you and began and self-doubt is a parasite that is easy to come in and harder to extract. I just didn’t want to bring the mood down of everyone being home for the first time in weeks. ”
Cassian snorted and you could hear him roll his eyes, “He failed you, Sweetheart. But Tamlin will be dealt with. I promise.” You nod and continue to sob into his neck ruining his dress shirt with your tears.  “Also, you are more important to me than any dinner or game night we could have. How you’re feeling takes priority for me that will never change. Just because you're not feeling joy all the time doesn't make you a burden, it's normal to have those bad feelings as it is the good ones.”
Cassian tucks an arm under your knees and behind your back and carries you to the armchair looking out at the balcony. Holding you close as your sobs ebb and flow he strokes your back and presses his head against yours whispering sweet nothings.
A few moments go by when the sobbing turns to soft hiccups, you raise your head from his neck to meet his beautiful honey-colored eyes. “Thank you, for being you, Cassian, you always know what to say.”
He presses a kiss to your hand, “Promise me something, Sweet Girl.” You wait to let him continue, “Promise me that you will not block me out like that again, if you think you will be in a dangerous situation or territory, you keep the bond open so I can help. While we’re at it, tell me things. Don’t try to protect me from your dark feelings, or worries, it’s my job as your mate and your husband to help you through them and work on quieting those loud voices. No different than what you do for me.”
You nod, “I promise.” You kiss him, “I love you.”
He smiles and holds you tighter to him, “I love you too, Sweetheart. Let’s get some rest, we have an early meeting with the High Lord and Lady tomorrow.”
You nod and let him carry you to bed. He quickly removes his clothes, apart from his underwear and crawls into bed next to you, bringing your head to his chest and his wing wrapped around the two of you for extra warmth as your eyes droop close you feel lips on your forehead, “My beautiful, mate.” He whispers as you drift into slumber.
~FIN
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qwimblenorrisstan · 4 months ago
Text
Insufficient Pt. 2 | Azriel x Reader
Summary: Following the disastrous breakup between you and Azriel, Nesta invites you out to a night at Rita’s, where you then discover that you might not be as safe in Night Court as you think.
Word Count: ~ 4.3k
Warnings: Stalkings, nasty public bathrooms, alcohol, drunk people, obsessive behavior, painfully bad description of blackjack, etc
A/N: ok so I kinda switched gears with this one, I’m trying to flesh it out before introducing another man, but lmk if you liked it, or if you have any opinion on where you’d like it to go, hope you enjoy <3
Requests are open!
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Only a week had passed since the disastrous breakup between you and Azriel, and as it turns out, it was harder to get rid of him than you’d originally thought.
Beforehand, he’d always seemed so controlled and stoic, that even being one of the main problems in your relationship was that he couldn’t ever let go of control. Being in charge meant he felt safe and secure, regardless of his feelings.
He had always seemed almost above you at times, above groveling and begging in bed, above communicating his feelings and emotions normally as he just expected you to read his mind or moods despite the way he hid any kernel of emotion from his body language. However, all of that seemed to have changed.
After the breakup, you’d gone back to working in the bakery, working specifically in the back making bread with your family, so you wouldn’t have to see him when he came in, probably trying to hunt you down. The heat the ovens gave off also seemed to repel his shadows, for whatever reason, so they wouldn’t spy on you any more than they already had. Though he had come asking for you before at the counter, your family had always shut him down. You felt bad about it for a second, but thinking back, you also didn’t. He’d chosen his words, and he was only sorry because you were his mate.
You’d moved back into the family home for now, your relatives surrounding you in love and empathy, and plenty of righteous fury regarding Azriel, and even a few “I told you so.”’s from the older generations.
Nesta would come by to visit now and then, having tea with you and updating you on all the latest news and developments, if not just funny stories to bring your spirits up, such as Nyx swallowing an ancient coin that he got from Rhys’ desk, only to poop it out shiny and clean a few days later, or how Cassian got so drunk he jumped from the top of the townhouse into a nearby pool that belonged to a neighbor.
On the bad days, she would offer some quiet company, or even open up to you about similar things that happened to her in the past.
Specifically, her past relationship.
She didn’t give a name, simply the details that he was a poor man’s family, his father abused his mother, and he was no better. She only was going to marry him to let Feyre take better care of Elain, really, even if it ended up with her getting beaten by some pathetic man. And then she told you of the night she rejected him, and tried to break it off, and how she almost barely got away before he could take what wasn’t his.
You both sat in silence after that, your hand in hers.
Eventually, though, the conversation continued. You told her of the flowers that would mysteriously appear on your windowsill each morning. Neither of you knew how Azriel knew what room you occupied in your family’s home, or even how he knew your address or favorite type of flower, Ditch Lily’s, but he knew. Or the letters you received nightly, always carried by some bird of prey to your window, and would leave it there.
She snorted when you told her about the letters.
“He’s being ridiculous, seriously, even Cassian isn’t that bad. He only cares because you’re his mate, not because of who you actually are, and until he gets his shit together I wouldn’t even open them.”
She said, taking a sip of the herbal tea your mother had prepared for both of you. It was a special recipe, one that some of your distant relatives in Autumn Court had created, originally meant to relieve muscle tension and stress from overuse of magic, and even assist in alleviating burnout. You were mildly convinced that there might be some healer blood in you, because of that half of the family.
You could’ve sworn you felt a tiny tug on the bond at the mention of Azriel.
“I know, I’ve just been burning them, but he won’t leave me alone. Every shadow feels like they’re watching me now, and I just…”
You sighed, trailing off as your hand went to rub the bridge of your nose, and she gave a hum of acknowledgment, finishing your sentence for you.
“Don’t feel safe in the one place that you used to only feel safe in?”
You glanced up, eyes widening a bit. That was precisely how you felt.
“Yes, how..?”
She took another sip of her tea, glancing over to the window and looking out of it, eyes almost glazing over as some memory must’ve come to light.
“Beneath the House of Wind is the library, though I’m sure you’ve already heard of it. The priestesses stayed there, and it was always quiet, and something about it made me feel…safe, even when I was in an unfamiliar body in new surroundings, the world in the middle of a war.”
She said, and you nodded, waiting for her to go on. You knew plenty of the library beneath the House of Wind and how massive it was.
“One night, me and Feyre both descended nearly to the bottom, for what I can barely remember, and there were two twin males. Sent by Hybern, I think. They were taken out before they could do any harm, but the damage was still done. It took me quite a while to think of the library as a safe space after that.”
The glaze in her eyes faded away as she took another sip of her tea, looking more relaxed than before. She looked over at you, her eyes meeting yours.
“How did you get it back like that? A safe place, I mean.”
You then asked, and she looked away for a moment to think, a common habit of hers. One you’d noticed by now. Always noticing things, something you must’ve learned from Azriel, and as much as you hated the reminder of him, it was useful regardless.
“Changing environments helped me. During and after the war, we were always traveling a lot, which forced me to appreciate the thought of home more. Then again, home was also linked with Cassian for me.”
She said, thinking aloud before eventually speaking again.
“I’d try moving around a bit. Exercise helped me, especially travel and hiking, or breathing exercises. I could teach you a few if you’d like?”
She offered. You would be a fool to refuse any sort of advice or help from Nesta Archeron, and she’d never led you astray before, so you nodded, and she smiled brightly, clearly happy to show you.
The next few hours were spent in the backyard on whatever flat surface there was, practicing impossibly stretched that seemed like whoever made them wanted to turn you into a pretzel. Nesta managed them just fine but didn’t laugh when you fell, only helped you back up, telling you all about how when she’d first started training with Cassian, it had been just as hard for her too.
She’d even outright refused to do it the first few times.
However, after that, she showed you cool-down exercises and helped you practice breathing techniques.
“Wait, so…I hold it for how long?”
You asked, and she held back a giggle at the sheer confusion in your tone as she answered.
“Twenty seconds, but you can-“
“TWENTY??”
At that, she burst out laughing, and before you knew it you were laughing too, both of you laying back on the grass of the yard and hoping none of the seasonal bugs crawled up onto you. She finally sat up a moment later, wiping tears from her eyes as she stood and helped you up.
“Build up from five, you can start at five seconds and build up, is what I was going to say.”
She said, and you sighed.
“And I thought I was in shape before.”
You said in an amused tone, and she snorted again, only for the both of you to look over where you heard another loud snort and see Cassian standing, leaning against a large tree in the backyard. He was grinning widely as ever, his eyes full of pure glee.
“Having fun without me, ladies?”
He asked, putting a hand over his heart in a dramatic expression as he rolled his eyes, acting fatally wounded.
“Honestly, I’m hurt-“
He wasn’t able to finish his sentence before you barreled into him, giving him a tight hug that he chuckled at and returned, ruffling your hair. Nesta was soon to follow, and hugging him in a much more elegant manner than you.
When you finally separated, you spoke.
“Gods, I’ve missed you. We should let him come to tea time, too, Nesta.”
You said with a grin, and Nesta rolled her eyes playfully, squeezing his bicep. A tiny twinge of jealousy seemed to echo down the bond, as if Azriel had seen you hugging Cassian, and didn’t appreciate it. Another tug on the bond that you shut out, now hyper aware of any shadows.
“You’d be surprised at how much of a gossip he is, it’s never-ending with the Devlon-rumors.”
She said, and his expression shifted to playfully offended as he swatted at Nesta’s hand. You giggled, and Nesta glanced over at you, before gaining a thoughtful expression.
“We could do Rita’s tonight if you could make it?”
She asked, and Cassian gave a little nod as if also agreeing with this. You didn’t have any plans tonight, so why not spend a night out with your friends? It would certainly help you get your mind off of things.
“Sure, what time?”
You asked, head cocked slightly to the side. Nesta shrugged.
“Is 6 good for you?”
She asked, and you nodded in confirmation. She gave you one last smile before Cassian scooped her up to fly away.
“See you tonig-“
Her words were cut off with a little shriek as Cassian launched into the air at maximum speed just to spook her like he always did, and you giggled to yourself, heading back inside the family home. Unbeknownst to you, a shadowy figure lurked behind that tree after Cassian left, watching.
To be fair, the shifts were switched out now and then so everyone had a break, but he usually ended up babysitting. Despite his objections and complaints, he was good at it, sort of a baby-whisperer.
“Who was that pretty lady?”
He asked, a slight touch of color on his cheeks as you smirked with a knowing look.
“That was my friend, Nesta. She’s taken.”
You clarified for him, noticing the way his face fell in disappointment all too clearly before you patted your baby cousin on the head, and walked up to your temporary room. Maybe Nesta’s idea of traveling a bit and exploring different places was good. You had all of immortality ahead of you, after all. Might as well use it well.
You walked to your room, before going to the bathroom attached to it. You were more than lucky to get a room with a bathroom attached, and you knew it, since everyone bickered over who got to shower first and who had been in there too long for the normal bathroom in the hall. Stripping your clothes off, you turned the water on, letting it settle to a warm, but refreshing temperature.
You went through your entire hair routine and washed your body off, shaving and everything. Tonight was an everything shower. You wanted to look your best at Rita’s tonight, and you desperately needed a confidence boost after what Azriel had said to you.
Nearly half an hour later, your hair done all pretty, makeup on, and a pretty red dress gracing your form. You’d even painted your nails yourself, forgoing the usual stylist you went to for it.
By the time 6 had rolled around, you were almost to Rita’s, walking down the bustling streets of Velaris as the cool air blew by, the sun already beginning to set as early as it did in this season.
The moment you walked into the bar, already full of people, it only took a few seconds to spot Nesta and Cassian inside. Cassian was drinking and laughing his ass off with some other males, and doing arm wrestling that he never seemed to lose at, and Nesta was playing poker, and by the looks of it had already won a few games before based on the sly smile she wore.
You walked over and ordered your drink, nothing too strong, and decided that you could take a little time away from Nesta for now. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, considering she’d been listening to all of your problems every time she’d come over. It was probably best if you gave her a little alone time for herself.
Walking over to a table to try your hand at what looked like a boring game of blackjack, you were about to sit down when something captured your attention.
A lone shadow lurking beneath your feet.
You swallow, getting a weird feeling about it, but you simply stomped one foot down on it before sitting down, determined not to let something so small ruin this night for you. The cards were dealt, and you received a queen of spades and eight of clubs, and as the game progressed, you took risks, choosing to hit, and somehow miraculously not going over 21 the entire time. You felt the lightest tug on the bond, but ignored it.
It was mildly suspicious, considering how bad you usually were at cards. That was until you spied the same wispy shadow from earlier on the deck of cards, hiding in the normal shadow of it. It was discreetly moving cards, changing them for you to win.
Now incredibly annoyed, you excused yourself from the game and walked to the bathroom. Rita’s bathrooms weren’t extremely clean, but you just needed a place to take a breather.
You pushed the door open, not surprised by the few females in here who were either redoing their makeup or drunk out of their minds and crying. Oddly enough, though, they filed out almost as soon as you entered, some giving you off looks as you entered one of the stalls, sliding the lock closed, and sat on top of the toilet seat, pulling your knees to your chest.
Sure, things were weird tonight, but it was probably just Azriel trying to play mind games with you. He was a Spymaster. His entire job revolves around torturing information out of people and playing mental gymnastics to get what he wants from them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was now hyper-fixated on you, determined to get you back if only to feel better about himself.
You heard the bathroom door open, barely creaking as the lightest footsteps became apparent to you. Probably another drunk woman, or someone looking to fix their makeup or outfit. Nothing out of the usual, you told yourself, even as your body began stiffening and your heart rate sped up. A lock clicked. The bathroom door.
You couldn’t get a decent whiff of the stranger, whether it be the alcohol or the reek of the bathroom in and of itself. Not daring to open up the stall or peek out, you became still as a statue.
Nearly silent footsteps.
A knob creaked, probably the sink, and water began running at its maximum speed.
Another sink turned on.
Then another.
Until all the sinks were on.
Your heart began beating faster. Why would anyone turn all the sinks on, if not to cover up the noise of something else, or someone else making loud noises?
Louder, bolder footsteps in your stall’s direction.
Glancing down beneath the door, you could see a pair of thick, black leathery boots now standing in front of it. You recognized those. How could you not?
A certain shadowsinger’s shoes. His work shoes.
You didn’t dare move, even as you heard a knock against the stall. It would’ve seemed polite in any other situation, but not here, not now.
“I know you’re in there.”
His quiet voice spoke, still filled with that tension you’d seen in his eyes the day you’d decided to finally break free of him.
He knocked again.
“I’m sorry for what I said, I shouldn’t have said that, if you would please, please, just give me another chance, I’ve been trying to talk with you for days but you were busy, and when I saw you here tonight, I thought that maybe we could talk this out-“
He said, voice filled with pleading and desperation as he rambled on. You’d never heard him express so much emotion before in his voice. It was interrupted by the bathroom door almost being opened, despite it being locked. A bang on the door, and Nesta’s muffled voice was heard through the door.
“Bullshit, I’m getting a worker..”
Azriel must’ve known he had limited time now, because he banged on the stall door louder, a bit more panicked.
“Please, just open the door. I’m sorry, just let me in. We can figure this out.”
He said, now shaking the stall door with the handle, and you didn’t dare move. Didn’t speak, didn’t do anything other than sit and pray to whatever gods you believed in. The Mother. The Cauldron. Anything. Whatever would make him go away. You had known the respectful, kind Azriel. The one that had waited centuries for Mor and not pushed anything, even when she openly went to other males and pushed him away. The one who wouldn’t push any boundary, but this Azriel…you didn’t know him.
The jingling of keys outside the bathroom door was heard, the worker Nesta must’ve called, and a frustrated sigh came from the voice outside your stall.
You could almost see it now, him angrily running his hands through his inky black hair, shadows swirling and writhing in agitation as he tried to think on how to fix this.
“You can’t hide from me forever, you’re just confused right now. I will get you back.”
He spoke finally, before the bathroom door burst open, and his presence was completely gone. You released a shaky breath, not daring to move still, even as the worker cursed and began turning all the sinks off.
“Haven’t seen it that jammed in a long time,”
She muttered, walking out eventually, you unlocked the stall door when you felt alone, only to swing it open and Nesta to pop into your vision. You almost screamed, jolting backward and slamming your head into a wall. She raised her hands in mock innocence.
“Easy, it’s just me. I figured you might be in here when I couldn’t find you, and…..”
She looked you up and down, noticing how shaken and pale you seemed, and frowned. Tilting her head sideways, she asked the obvious.
“What’s wrong with you?”
You looked all around the bathroom, finding no sign of him anywhere, no moving shadows or dark presences.
“He was here, Nesta. He kept begging me to come out and—I don’t know what he would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”
You said, tears welling up before falling as you began sobbing. She frowned deeper, now scowling as she pulled you against her chest, worry filling her expression.
“It’s alright, I’ll take you home.”
She said, helping walk you out of the bathroom, and as she passed by Cassian she grabbed the big Illyrian by the ear and dragged him out of the bar, outside with fresh air. Cassian immediately looked concerned, brows furrowed, but one look from Nesta was enough for him to nod grimly as his expression darkened, the two of them no doubt communicating mentally as most mates did.
He scooped the both of you up, and despite the alcohol in his system, managed a decent flight to your house. He gave you a pat on the head before Nesta walked you inside, and as soon as the two of you were in the privacy of your room, she spoke.
“Look, I’ll tell Rhys to keep an eye on him, but it’s not like Azriel will listen to anything Rhys orders him to do regarding…this. Just…be careful.”
She said in a hushed tone, and you nodded weakly.
“I can’t stay here. Not when he’s..watching and following me.”
Nesta gave a little nod, as she understood, but she still looked concerned. She was friends with Azriel, you knew as much, but even this was pushing it.
“I have family in Autumn, I could go find them.”
You suggested, and she sighed.
“You do realize he could just have one of his shadows follow you? Unless you left without telling anyone, then…”
The both of you shared a glance, and in a moment, understood what you needed to do to get away. A stalker problem wasn’t one that you thought you would have, but Azriel was obsessive and possessive, even after you’d thrown out all the flowers he’d left, and burnt all the letters you’d given him. He wouldn’t stop at anything, no matter what boundaries you tried to set.
You dragged the duffel bag out from under your bed, the same one you had used to pack your things the day you’d left and began shoving clothes into it, clothes that would suit a few days of travel in the wilderness. You nearly tore your dress off, shoving dark clothing that covered almost every bit of your skin.
If you headed through the main routes of the Court traveling system, Azriel could easily find you. The mating bond would only make it easier from there.
Nesta began helping, choosing clothes from your closet that she deemed acceptable and neatly arranging everything in the duffel bag.
“Are you going to tell your family?”
She asked quietly, and you sighed.
“My grandmother, she’d understand. She fled Autumn when she was younger, some long story about escaping a lover from the royal family.”
You said as you continued packing, and hurried down the stairs. Everyone was asleep this late, except for your grandmother for her nightly tea session. She was sitting in the living room, sipping away, and her eyes shifted to you. Despite her young form, her eyes were old and carried a wisdom you couldn’t explain.
“Grandma, I can’t explain, but-“
“You need to leave, I understand. Under the stairs, there is food. I expected this. Find your great aunt in Autumn.”
That made you pause for a moment, eyes widening, a little twinkle in her eye, and a small mischievous smirk made its way onto her face as she saw your confusion.
“I am not nearly as oblivious as you think I am, now go. Time is of the essence.”
She said, making a little waving motion, and you hurried off to find the little place under the stairs, opening the tiny area beneath it through the small cabinet door, rations were stashed there just like she’d said. You grabbed them, and hurried back up the stairs, and walking into your room you shoved it into the now-full duffle bag and zipped it up. Nesta gave you a confused look when she saw all the pre-prepared food you somehow had, but you only shrugged and she moved on.
“You’re going to need a way to travel, it’ll be thousands of miles to Autumn.”
She said, and you sighed, looping your arm through the handles of the duffle bag and throwing it over your shoulder as you hurried down the steps again, trying to be quiet for the sake of your sleeping family.
Nesta followed you out of the front door as you shut it, Cassian still standing outside, quietly watching with that same grim look on his face as you hopped your neighbor's fence, running across the mass of property they had in the backyard, straight to the small horse stables they had. You went in and opened the first one you could find, a dark-colored mare with a splotchy white stripe down her face, and some white near her hooves.
Pulling the winter coat off of her the gentlest you could, you scrambled to find a bridle that fit the mare as she stomped nervously, and you eventually found one and slipped it on, the horse not seeming eager to get the bit in its mouth, even though you managed to get it in.
Nesta caught up with you and glanced from you to the horse.
“You are crazy.”
She said though she had a slight smirk as she said it. You sighed, grabbing the reins and leading the mare outside of its stall, and you glanced over to Nesta.
“Give me a leg up?”
You asked with a small attempt at a grin, and she sighed, shaking her head in fond exasperation as she held her hands out for you to put your foot in, and you did, and she counted down from three before hoisting you up over the horse.
The large animal did not seem happy about that, either. But despite its protests, and the fact that you were riding it bareback because taking care of a bridle, saddle, stirrups and more was probably more than you could handle, you managed.
“Tell Rhys to ignore anyone complaining of a missing horse for me, will you?”
You said with that weak little half-grin, and she returned it.
“Sure, I can manage that.”
She said in an amused tone.
A moment of silence passed, before she swallowed, and spoke.
“Be careful. Don’t get yourself killed.”
She said, and you nodded, laughing softly.
“I won’t. Once I’m..safe, I’ll figure out a way to let you know. I promise.”
The inky mark of your oath spread around both of your wrists, reminding you of the promise. You didn’t know how you’d tell her without anyone else, or a specific shadowsinger catching wind of where you were, but you would figure it out.
The wind blew by, and you swallowed again.
“Well…I guess this is goodbye.”
“For now.”
She replied, and you nodded.
“For now.”
And with that, she gave a single nod and began walking back over to Cassian, who offered a dip of his head in goodbye. You gently nudged the horse with your foot, gathering up the reigns, and it jolted forward, taking any excuse to run wild after being cooped up in a stall for so long.
It hopped the fence easily, despite how you almost fell off and began bounding off before you adjusted it Southeast, where you would skirt the boundaries of Night Court, and then head to Autumn.
Into Autumn, where freedom loomed, and into Autumn, where the threat of more than just your self-discovery loomed as well.
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acotarxreader · 4 months ago
Text
Tease
Azriel x Reader
Synopsis: Friends with benefits is quickly running its course between you and Azriel with Mor's birthday party being the perfect setting to see which of you will cave first.
Warnings: Fluff, teasing, flirty
A/N: hope you enjoy this lil Az fic. I have an Eris one written but I think it needs some reworking that I don't have the energy for right now.
---------------------------------------------
“Az, have you seen my left shoe?” You scanned the room, hands on your hips as Azriel watched you from his bed, the sheet haphazardly covering his lower half. He reached his arm from behind his head to retrieve the quickly discarded shoe from behind his bedside lamp, throwing it towards you. 
“Don’t look at me like that” You laughed, firing it back towards his smug face, a laugh leaving him as you narrowly missed his dishevelled hair. 
“Get up Az, we gotta go to Ritas” he groaned in reply, pulling the covers over his face in hopes of blocking out the world. The evening you had spent together, much like the majority of them, had been impromptu and the two of you prepared yourselves to pull yourselves back together as if none of the previous time spent together had happened. 
“YNN, I’m tired go without me” he muffled through the cotton.
“I bet you are tired” You chuckled, Azriel quickly darting forward from under the sheet to pull you into his chest and back into the sheets of his bed. He nipped your neck playfully as you left your laughs come hard and fast, his legs knotting into yours as he hovered above you. You suddenly pushed him backwards before tapping against the side of your head gently, your code to one another that Rhysand was demanding the attention of your mind.
Azriel looked down towards you, examining your smiling face as it reacted to the words his brothers spoke that he wasn’t privy to. His eyes traced along the lovingly created smile lines decorating your face, down your neck and along your body before resting his eyes once again on yours as they sparkled for him. He could spend all day looking into them. This very thought struck Azriel hard, were feelings starting to move beyond friends with benefits? He fought the chill running across his wings, uncomfortable with the thought of allowing himself to push past the denial. Azriel pulled from you quickly, his ankle snagging on yours sending him colliding with the floor with a thud. You looked down at him on the floor, fighting the urge to burst with laughter as he scurried to get ready for Mor’s birthday party, bruised ego and tailbone in tow.
—--------------------------------------
Rita’s crowd grew and grew until fae practically flooded the street. The Inner Circle found their home in their usual booth, the joy radiating from around the well-worn table. Mor worked her way through the room, the birthday party of her dreams filling her with such utter feelings of home. 
“Do you know anyone besides us in here?” Elain shouted over the booming crowd to Azriel who laughed into the neck of his beer as he nodded. His foot gently tapped Rhysand’s shin beneath the table, waking the sleepy High Lord from his rest. 
“Sorry, Nyx is going through sleep regression” He yawned out, Cassian passing him another drink that he quickly liberated from the crystal. Azriel smiled, Nesta pulling Elain from his side to dance with her, Mor quickly filling the empty seat. 
“It’s exhausting being this popular” she beamed, taking Cassian’s drink from him and finishing it off. 
“Hey!”
“My birthday, my drink-” she grinned “-go get another one, Rhys is paying the tab”
“Rhys is doing what?” The High Lord laughed through a rogue yawn in reply.
“You said so, right before Cassian saved your sleep-deprived face from hitting your plate at dinner” The playful argument started to grow, Azriel smiling along before panning his eyes across the room to find the easiest way to the bar top. His gaze getting stuck on you resting your back against the oak, drinking from a tall glass while waiting for Feyre to finish her order. Cassian followed his brother's gaze from across the table, the grin knitting deeply across his face. 
“So Azzie, tell me, when are you and YN gonna stop pretending it's just sex and actually just sign the marriage licence, it's been like 7 months” 
"N-o no no" He managed to choke out between rapid taps to the back from Mor.
“Cass, don’t kill YN’s plaything off” Mor quipped while watching the colour return back to Azriel’s face.
“I’m not her plaything, maybe she’s mine” Azriel offered, trying to deflect. 
"And who exactly could you be talking about like that" Your voice had Azriel wishing his beer had just finished him off.
"Y/N, we were just messing with him"
"Ah yes, Cassy because I love when my sex life is the topic of conversation amongst my friends, although I suppose you've nothing going on in your own lives-" you blinked down at your friends "-And how is Nesta?" you added, Cassian sunk on the seat with a groan "-And that female from the continent?" sending Mor sliding too, leaving Azriel grinning to himself. 
“Well that's my cue to get more alcohol” Mor made her quick exit, allowing you to find your usual space next to Azriel in the booth, Feyre sitting in alongside Rhysand and Cassian. A pang of jealousy beat through Azriel as Feyre kissed Rhysands cheek sweetly, the open display of affection something he could never master. He shook his head gently to take the feeling away before realising his arm had instinctively found its way to behind you on the back of the bench. Shadows traced along your palm beneath the table, Azriel noticing his smokey friends curling into you naturally. He smiled down at them causing you to meet his eye with your own grin. Warmth spread through the Ilyrian as if you were the only person in the room. Azriel turned the feeling cold in his veins, pushing it to where he couldn’t reach with ease, his arm darting back to his side. 
“Are you alright Az?”
“Yeah!” Azriel shot back far too quickly to be casual and then stood suddenly, bumping the table and pulling the focus of the table towards him. You slid out to release him from the booth without further comment, the four of you watching him like a runaway animal as he found his way to the bar. Your three friends tore their eyes from Azriel and looked at you, with coordinated confusion. 
“Okay okay” You raised your hands up to chest height and then slid out to follow your closest friend. Azriel swallowed the drink he received whole before rapidly ordering another before the bartender could go too far from him.
“Az, what’s going on?” your voice gave him a small fright from his thoughts. 
“I uhh” Was all he could manage as he turned to face you, his eyes landing on Feyre and Rhysand as she pulled her mate to dance with her alongside her sisters. You followed his sightline towards the group where it landed on Nesta as the couple crossed her path.
“Nesta? Really?” You shuffled on the spot, fighting away the sound of jealous annoyance before it could rise in your throat. 
“No I was...wait does that make you jealous?” he couldn't force down his signature smirk and you hit him in the chest. 
“No I just... it's just stop staring at your friends mate like that” 
“You are jealous”
“I am not” your arms folded into your chest tightly, trying to drag your eyes to anywhere but the smirk.
“So I could ask her out and you’d be totally fine with it?”
“Well I mean Cassian might have something to say” He rolled his eyes as you stole his drink from the bar top, taking a swig. Azriel enjoyed the sight of your usual coolness escaping you and decided to have some fun with it. 
“Well okay what about...what about if I asked Cresseida out?” he scanned the room to find the person that would annoy you most and it was definitely her. You ran your tongue across your teeth before taking another deep drink.
“Yeah- yes that would be fi-okay” you said through gritted teeth, hitting the glass back down off the mahogany with white knuckles. Cresseida and you had had numerous run-ins during your role as emissary to the seasonal courts. Your defence of Cassian and his love of blowing things up was the catalyst to shatter the already fragile alliance you had. Her presence at Mor’s birthday party was an olive branch to the Summer Court.
He nodded at you before pushing off the bar and sauntering over to the pool table where Cresseida was. A distraction from you as well as a way for him to make you want him more, win-win in his books he thought. 
You white-knuckled the fresh tumbler of whiskey in your hand, seething energy out as you watched Azriel dazzle Cresseida. Mor joined your side just as the crystal began to crack in your palm. 
“Getting crushed by the crush YNN?” 
“Leave it Mor” She rolled her eyes at you before speaking again.
“You know he's only talking with her to annoy you yeah? He never shuts up about you, he’s definitely in his feelings”
“Really?”
“Yeah, c’mon YNN, the way he looks at you is enough to confirm anything” You pursed your lips before a smile grew across them. Feelings were never part of the deal but this was new information that made you feel so incredibly fuzzy.
“That, that I can work with” you winked at your best friend before heading to the bathroom.
You returned to Azriel’s side moments later, standing very close after he took his shot, Cresseida’s stare heating you from across the pool table.
“Are you okay YNN? Something wrong?” he stood up from his stance and leaned against the pool stick with his famous smirk painted on. Cresseida watched you carefully before lining up her own shot.
“No no, nothing” Your hand ran down his side and into his front pocket causing him to jump slightly. You then slowly slipped your now empty hand back out before winking and walking away slowly, knowing he was watching.
Cresseida took her shot while Azriel put his hand into his pocket, his eyes widened immediately at the feeling of a lacy thong balled up in the fabric. Azriel’s eyes shot to you while you leaned against the bar and gave him a small little wave with just your fingertips before you took up another drink in your hand and sat back into the booth with your friends. Azriel made an empty apology to the Princess of the Summer before practically running back to the booth, sliding in alongside you once again.
 “You think that's cute?” he whispered under his breath to you when the conversation around you two got too loud for anyone to hear you both. You just took another sip through your smirk. A shadow slipped from around your ankle, up along your thigh beneath the table, tracing the lining of your skirt before slipping beneath the fabric. Your body jolted forward at the sensation of the delicate wicked touch, the table looked at you briefly before turning their attention back to Feyre’s story. 
“Push in!” Nesta half demanded to the two of you as she and Elain had finally had their fill of dancing while Mor squished in alongside Feyre, Rhysand and Cassian.
“We should get another chair” Rhysand suggested. 
“Don’t be silly” You smiled at him, a smile Azriel knew had a deeper meaning. You stood slightly in the booth before planting yourself on top of Azriel’s lap, the two sisters now happy to fill the space. This new configuration suited everyone but Azriel and as the conversation grew back to its joyous loud volume you couldn’t help but push further into the Spymaster. You felt him grow beneath you, your skirt riding up a little at your subtle movement, Azriel gripped the seat of the booth containing his growing imagination. 
“Yeah he would be perfect for YNN!” The mention of your name in the conversation brought the two of you back to earth. Mor had had enough of watching the games between you and she had a bet to win with Cassian.
“Who would?”
“Yeah who? Who would be perfect for her?” Azriel hadn’t meant to come off as bitter as he had and you tried your best to not laugh. 
“This wonderful male from Day, he sounds perfect for you YN”
“Sounds great, give me his det-AILS” you squealed slightly as Azriel squeezed your thigh beneath the table. 
“Hey YN, I should bring you home, remember you said you didn’t not to stay out too late because you have that big meeting in the morning with Summer?”
“No I don't remember th-AT” You threw a dirty look as he squeezed your leg again.
“Oh wait yes, I do remember that” Nesta huffed at your reply, having to stand again to let the two of you out of the booth. You both wished Mor a happy birthday before leaving almost as quickly as you came, Mor putting out her palm to receive her bet money from Cassian. 
—-----------------------------
Azriel sat at the foot of his bed as he watched you collect your things from around his studio apartment, all done in complete silence. 
“See you later Az” You rushed your words out, hands full of various artefacts as you went for the front door. Azriel cut your course off, you bumping gently into his chest. 
“Are you going to make contact with that male Mor was talking about?” His clipped tone coated you. 
“I don’t know” You raised an eyebrow, his hand taking hold of your wrist before you could reach for the door behind him. 
“Well…what if you didn’t?”
“Then I’d still be single”
“What if you weren't single?”
“Azriel” You pulled from him and threw your stuff down on the kitchen table before taking up your favourite spot on his couch, Azriel joining your side soon after.
“So do you wanna be together or not Az?! I can't take these mixed messages”
“I don't know!”
“WELL FIGURE IT OUT” Your voice got away from you, making him shuffle in his seat, his own voice escaping him-
“I DON’T KNOW I DON'T KNOW! ALL I KNOW IS I DON'T WANT YOU WITH ANY OTHER MALE”
“AND I DON'T WANT YOU WITH ANY OTHER FEMALE SO WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?!” he caught your face suddenly pulling you into him, his tongue tracing the inside of your mouth almost viciously, you pulled him further on top of you.
“No no no Az this doesn't solve anything!” You pushed him into the chest away from you.
“But this is how we always solve things”
“And maybe that's not working anymore” you said quietly as he retreated back again.
“Yeah, maybe it isn't… what are we gonna do?”
“What do you wanna do?”
“What if-what if we just saw each other” It took all that he was to rip his eyes from the carpet and say that to your face “-I-mean-I mean if you wan-t to I mean we don-t have to” 
“Okay”
“Okay?”
“Yeah” You beamed, Azriel matched your wide smile, instantly pressing you back into the couch to hover above you. You ran a hand down his face before his kissed you gently
“Az what happens if this doesn't work?”
“What happened if it does?” Your only reply was to kiss him once again, the first of the rest of your lives.
------------------------------------
What do you think???
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happi-tree · 1 year ago
Text
hunter’s mark, reversed
You never forget your first kill, they always say. 
What the monster manuals and hunting guides and mentors forget to say is that sometimes, your first kill never forgets you, either. 
Grant trudges to the master bathroom, attempting to muss his hair out of its unruly bedhead. He flicks on the lights, runs the water, lets the cool chill of it splash against his face and rouse him into a loose definition of wakefulness. Washes his face, turns off the water, looks in the mirror as he pats his face dry. 
His own reflection stares at him, tired. 
His eyes veer to his right, where a pair of vacant, milky white eyes look back.
Or: Grant Wilson, and the things that haunt him.
ao3
This is my fic for @dndadsfanweeks' Halloween Week day 6: ghosts. Like previous days, this is part of the supernatural au @llumimoon, @kaseyskat, and I planned out together. Content warnings for blood, gore, death, and general angstiness.
Hunter’s Mark (reversed): You choose kill a creature you can see within range and it mystically marks it you as your its quarry. Until the spell ends, you it deals an extra 1d6 psychic damage to the target whenever you hit it with a weapon attack, and you have disadvantage on any Wisdom (Perception) or Wisdom (Survival) check you make to find it.
-Ranger Spell List, D&D 5th ed.
You never forget your first kill, they always say. 
What the monster manuals and hunting guides and mentors forget to say is that sometimes, your first kill never forgets you, either. 
Grant trudges to the master bathroom, attempting to muss his hair out of its unruly bedhead. He flicks on the lights, runs the water, lets the cool chill of it splash against his face and rouse him into a loose definition of wakefulness. Washes his face, turns off the water, looks in the mirror as he pats his face dry. 
His own reflection stares at him, tired. 
His eyes veer to his right, where a pair of vacant, milky white eyes look back, expressionless, framed by dark locs and pallored skin. 
“Hi, Yeet,” Grant says softly. 
You never forget your first kill. 
You never forget your first crush, either. 
And for Grant Wilson, he’s unlucky enough that those two people ended up one and the same. 
There is no response from the boy in the mirror, just a blank, glassy stare, like one of the taxidermied animal heads that had decorated the walls of his grandma’s house. 
(As a little kid, he’d always thought their severed heads and marble eyes were a bit uncomfortable to look at, a bit creepy. He would make a game in his head of seeing how long he could be in the family room at night before he chickened out and turned the lights on. It was good, harmless fun, to look at the things Grandpa Frank had shot and convince himself that they were watching him from somewhere beyond the veil.)
(That was before he met Yeet, of course. Before his father had pulled him aside and told Grant what Grandpa Frank had told him.)
“Honey,” Marco calls from beyond the bathroom, and his husband’s soothing voice manages to pull him from his thoughts, just a little. His white-knuckle grip on the edge of the sink loosens (when had he grabbed it?). 
“Hey, I’m headed out to work,” Marco says, poking his head in through the doorway. 
The sight of Grant’s favorite person relaxes him further.
(He tries not to think about the way he had looked with a bullet wound between his eyes in his dream last night, his eyes fog-covered and glass-marbled, his jaw slack and dripping with gore.)
Grant feels Marco’s stubble brush along his cheekbone as his husband gives him a quick peck. 
“Okay,” Grant hears himself say, although it feels like his head is underwater (it feels like his head is stuck twenty-five years in the past.) “Love you.”
Marco’s eyebrows knit together above his half-moon glasses. Grant hates and loves in equal measure the way that his husband can read him so well, even when he’s busy and frazzled from his morning routine. Some sort of witchy ability of his, he’s sure. 
The concern in those onyx-flint eyes make Grant want to run and hide, sometimes, to cower and shy away like a prey animal under the weight of his affection. 
Grant stays still, though. He’s gotten better at that (at least, that’s what Marco tells him).
“You sound awful.”
“Good morning to you, too, sweetheart,” Grant says, trying to inject some lightheartedness into his voice.
“The adjustments I made to the sleeping draught didn’t work much, huh,” Marco frets.
Grant sighs. “Yeah.” Among other things.
His gaze slides to the mirror again: his warm, wonderful, magical husband on his left, a ghostly shade of a boy on his right. Grant in the middle, somewhere between living and dead, between predator and prey.
Marco follows his gaze, sees the way it lands on negative space.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I could always try an exorcism,” he muses, squinting at the silver-backed pane like he’s trying to force himself to see what Grant does.
“Too risky,” Grant says, like he has every other time Marco has offered. “He lashed out a lot, when I was younger. I wouldn’t want him to hurt you.”
It’s true. In the first few months - years - afterward, Yeet was a complete poltergeist. Gusts of wind would rip through every corridor of his childhood home, piercing shrieks and wordless screams echoing right next to his ears, those milky-white eyes narrowed in fury as wave upon wave of pity-disgust-betrayal-anger-fear reached through to his chest with icy cold fingers, emotions that were his burden but not his own siphoning between his ribs and pulling .
Phantom blood had drenched his teenage hands, red and sticky and awful but also strangely beautiful, congealing into chunks around shaking joints, caking into his fingernails, and Grant would pick at the skin there until it bled anew, as if disposing of the flaking crimson would absolve him of his sins.
Grant has long since rid himself of Catholic guilt. His own is more than any god could give him, now, and he watches as the red fills his peripheral vision, leaving gory smears on the countertop, worming its way into every line of his palm. Its counterpart blooms from Yeet’s chest, flowering and spreading outward, mesmerizing in a way that Grant knows he shouldn’t find pretty.
Marco exhales, places a hand atop his, unlatches it from the edge of the sink (fuck, he had been gripping it too hard again, hadn’t he), interlocks their fingers together. The red doesn’t spread to him.
(Grant hopes it never will. Grant hopes that, at the end of things, he will be buried, soaked in blood and gore, a sponge for all the violence so that his family, his friends, his pack, never have to live in fear again.)
“Okay,” Marco says, calmly, firmly.
Too many people have treated Grant like he is fragile, one moment away from breaking. Blessedly, Marco has never been one of them.
“I’m fine,” Grant says. “I’m fine, Marco.”
“It’s okay not to be,” Marco says, infuriatingly patient for someone who was about to rush out the door.
“You’re going to be late,” he evades.
“Time is relative, dear,” Marco responds, the air tingeing with a very specific mirage of color that Grant has long since learned to identify as his husband’s magic. There’s a slight upturn to his mouth, and Grant can’t help but lean into him and fit his lips to the seam of his smile.
Marco’s hands come to grasp at his waist, grounding, steadying, and the air smells less like a bloodstained forest night and more like clementines and jasmine. 
When Grant pulls away, there is no blood where his fingers cup his husband’s jaw, nor where his hand fists in his clean shirt.
“There you are,” Marco murmurs, smiling gently, and fuck, Grant does not deserve him in the slightest.
(He doesn’t need the lone boy in the mirror, rigor-mortis-frozen at age thirteen, to tell him that. Although the phantasmal reminder certainly doesn’t hurt.)
“You sure you’re gonna be okay to drive Lincoln to school?” Marco asks.
At the edge of his hearing, Grant can hear the uncoordinated puttering of their son in the kitchen, attempting to prepare his breakfast with only his feet.
He smiles, and it feels a little less fake on his face. “Yeah, I can handle it. It’s his first day, I can’t not drive our little boy!”
“Alright,” Marco says, pecking him again on the cheek and turning to leave before pausing at the threshold.
“Oh,” he says. “Before I forget and you freak out, Lincoln and I did some arts and crafts yesterday.”
“Friendship bracelets?” Grant asks.
“Yep.”
There’s a cold breeze only he can feel. “And they work?”
Marco cocks his head to one side. “No reason why they shouldn’t. Iron to ward off fae, silver for werewolves, even soaked the strings in holy water to throw something anti-demonic in there,” he lists. “And of course, imbued with good intent.”
 “Of course,” Grant echoes. 
“I can tell you’re thinking,” his husband says.
Grant hums. “Public school’s gonna be good for Lincoln, it’s just - are we going too far with the precautions?” He frowns. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“I mean, he’s going to find out eventually,” Marco says. “Whether or not he hears it from us.”
“I don’t want that to happen.”
“It’s going to, one way or another,” his husband asserts, frown clashing against his smile lines.
“I know, I know,” Grant sighs. “It’s just-”
There’s so much blood on Grant’s hands, passed down from his father and his father’s father, monster hunter to monster hunter to monster hunter. (Grant’s idea of a monster has shifted, as his father’s had, but the rush of the hunt remains regardless). The red will spread, as the red always does.
He can only hope it doesn’t stain his son’s hands. He can only hope it doesn’t ooze from his son’s ruptured heart. 
Marco’s features soften. “I know,” he says. (He shouldn’t have to know.) “He’s growing up too fast.”
“Yeah,” Grant agrees.
“If you think the bracelets are too much, though, I don’t think he’s packed yet.”
Grant’s vision is drawn once more to the figure in the mirror. Yeet regards him silently, mouth agape in a silent scream of betrayal. His ghostly form still bears the marks of a witch hunter, wooden stakes and crucifixes and torches that Grant didn’t let him set ablaze. 
He looks, and Yeet morphs before his eyes, locs shortening to dark, fluffy curls, close-cropped at the sides, freckles appearing on boyish, rounded cheeks and lanky limbs. The ghost looks a lot like Lincoln.
Yeet smiles wickedly, and blood pools from the corner of his mouth, runs down his spectral chin.
“No, no, the bracelets are a good idea,” Grant says, eyes not leaving the mirror. “Thank you for helping make them.”
“Not a problem, honey,” Marco says, squeezing his shoulder and dragging him back to the living “All good to go?”
“I need to get dressed, first,” Grant responds, gesturing at his loose t-shirt and boxers.
“I’ll leave you to it, then, I really do have to go,” He says. “I’m gonna wish Lincoln good luck, and then I’m off!”
“Okay,” Grant says, already moving to grab his sweater and slacks for his shift at the library later today. “Love you.”
“Love you, too!” Marco replies, immediate and ever-present, an answer to a question Grant doesn’t deserve to ask. “And Grant?”
“Hm?”
“Lincoln will be fine,” Marco reassures. “Trust me. I have a good feeling about this.”
“I hope so.”
The boy in the full-length mirror stares at him, hovering just at his right, and Grant avoids looking at him.
God, I really hope so. 
20 notes · View notes
serpentandlily · 1 year ago
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Untouchable III - Azriel x Reader
Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨
Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.
Warnings: angst
a/n: Okay all your comments/reblogs have literally made me dieeee laughing. Y'all are so funny lmao. Hope you enjoy this one! I had lots of fun writing it <3
➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V
➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Part III
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
The cool night breeze kissed the flesh exposed by your silk nightgown as you sat on the railing of your balcony, dangling your legs over the edge. You could faintly hear music and the sound of laughter as Velaris came alive around you. You blew a loose strand of hair out of your face as you gazed up at the bright moon glowing down on you in the night sky. 
“I need some advice right now, Mama,” you whispered into the night. “Everyone seems to be finding their place in this world but I…I don’t know where I belong or what I’m even here for. And everything has been falling apart recently and I could really, really, use one of your hugs right now.”
After the disastrous training session this morning, you had spent the rest of the day watching over Nyx. Being with him made you feel better. Your nephew was a reminder that there were more important things in your life than a certain shadowsinger and his crazy mood swings. 
But now Nyx was asleep and you were left alone with your thoughts once again. 
Azriel had been so rough with you today, so cruel. And your heart panged with the thought that he would never dare treat Elain, or even Mor, like that. You let out a sigh and drew one knee to your chest, resting your head against it. Would this heartache ever go away? Or were you cursed by the Mother to forever yearn for a male who would never want you? 
Somehow you could sense him before you even heard the flap of wings. A thud sounded behind you and the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar flooded your senses. His presence felt heavy and dark and you refused to turn around despite the way it put you on edge. 
Silence. Nothing but tense silence filled the air. If it wasn't for Azriel's looming presence behind you, you might've thought you imagined him coming. You waited a breath...then another. Still nothing. You felt him take a step closer to you; his shadows eased their way between your arms, over your shoulders, through your hair. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck. 
Another moment went by and you couldn't take it anymore. You blew out a low breath. 
"I didn't snitch on you if that's what you're thinking," you scoffed, your gaze never straying from the moon. "You can blame that on Cass. So if my brother sent you here to apologize, save it."
Silence once more. Your grip on the edge of the stone railing tightened. Why wasn't he saying anything? Why did he come here? 
"Rhys didn't send me here." You almost jumped at the sound of his voice, your heartbeat rising. "In fact, your brother forbade me from seeking you out."
Yet here he was, going directly against his High Lord's orders. Your brows furrowed but you refused to turn around, refused to look at him. So much had changed between the two of you in the last twenty-four hours.
"So why are you here?"
"I hurt you." His voice was as dark as his shadows.
You glanced down at your bandaged hand. The image of his cold face as he struck down on you with his sword replayed in your mind. But you weren't sure which had hurt more. The slice down your palm or the words he had spat at you. 
"You did." 
"Y/n..." he whispered your name. You felt his hand ghost over your shoulder, as if he were about to touch you, but his touch never came. "I'm sorry. I was...I was angry and I took it out on you—”
"You weren't just angry, Az," you cut him off. "You were angry with me. Why? What did I do to earn your ire?"
You finally turned around and gasped as you caught sight of his face. He had a black eye, his left cheekbone was surrounded by black and purple bruises, and his bottom lip had been split open, though it looked to be already healing. His hair was tousled as if he had spent hours running his hand through it, some pieces hanging down his forehead. 
"I deserved it," he said, darkly as your eyes searched his face for any more injuries. You knew your brother had been behind them. "You've done nothing wrong. Like I said, I wasn't angry with you."
You let out another scoff and jumped down from the railing. The ground was cold against your bare feet as you brushed past Azriel and strode towards the glass doors leading to your bedroom. 
“Where are you going?”
You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I refuse to entertain a conversation with you if you’re going to blatantly lie to me.”
“I’m not lying,” he ground out through his teeth. 
You whirled around, crossing your arms. “Then why did you say all those things to me? If you were just angry, why not let off steam by sparring with Cass like you always do? You targeted me.” 
“I didn’t mean any of the things I said, y/n.”
“You still said them.” 
“Fine,” he snarled. He stalked towards you looking like a fallen angel straight from Hell, wings and all. You couldn’t help but take a step back. “Do you want to know why I’m so angry, princess?”
You gasped as he pressed a large hand flat against your sternum and pushed you against the wall, holding you there. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. His expression was dark, his jaw clenched. 
“I’m angry because you let that undeserving, piece of shit male put his hands all over you,” he growled. “I'm angry you even let him look in your direction.”
You glared up at him. “Why should it even matter to you?”
“Because it does.” He slammed a hand against the wall beside your head causing your heart to pound in your chest. “It fucking does.”
“Why?” Your voice was a mere whisper. 
Azriel sucked in a breath, his head dropping into the crevice of your neck. You didn’t think your heart could beat any faster or you might possibly die. He splayed his hand out on your stomach, holding you in place. 
“Azriel?” you questioned, uncertain of what he was doing. He had never acted so erratic around you. You went to take a step forward but he slammed you back against the wall with the hand on your stomach. 
“Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t move.”
Your breath got caught in your throat. He trailed his nose up your throat column, barely brushing against the fragile skin. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his touch, at his closeness to you. 
“Az,” you started, placing your hand on his chest. “What are you—”
You stopped talking as he laid his hand over your much smaller one. He closed his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Don’t touch me.”
But his hand squeezed yours, keeping it in place. You were so confused—so utterly confused by his behavior. He pried your hand off his chest after a moment and you let your arm fall limp.  
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice was so low, it sent a shiver down your spine. His hand gripped your hip so tightly, the fabric of your nightgown bunching in his fist. 
When his eyes opened again, he looked wild—feral. His hand slid up your waist, grazing the side of your breast, until it lingered on your throat. Heat started to coil inside of you. Fire burned a trail through your veins. You couldn’t find any words, your mind suddenly empty of every single thought except one.
Azriel took a deep inhale and you were certain he could smell your arousal. Your cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. But his pupils dilated at your scent, making his eyes look black, as the hand that was on the wall clenched so tightly, parts of the brick chipped off, clattering to the floor. His other hand moved up your throat to cup the side of your cheek, a scarred thumb brushing against your skin. 
You swallowed audibly, frozen in place. You could scent his own arousal, could feel it pressing against your stomach, as his hard body kept you as its prisoner. Your mouth parted in a gasp and his head dipped down, his nose brushing against yours. And then his lips hovered over yours and you held your breath. Your body screamed at you to do something, anything. But he had ordered you not to move, not to touch him.
Your heart nearly stopped as his lips feathered yours and you waited. Waited for him to make the final move, to press his lips against yours for real. To kiss you. Something that had only ever happened in your dreams. But instead, he let out a loud grunt of pain and pulled himself away from you so quickly, it felt like you had been slapped. 
You blinked up at him, disorientated. “A-Azriel?”
He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair, as his whole body seemed to tense. When he met your eyes, goosebumps covered your skin because of the darkness in his gaze. The hand at his side clenched in and out of a fist. Like he was restraining himself from something. 
You were shaking like a leaf, glad the wall could support you, otherwise you were sure you would’ve crumbled to the floor. You waited for him to speak, to say anything that might explain what the hell had just happened. But when he finally did, his words were like a spear to the heart.
“Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.” The words came out in a snarl and his huge wings snapped out, casting a dark shadow over your form. Before you could even say anything, he launched himself into the air and disappeared into the dark night sky. 
The breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding in was expelled out of your lungs and you slid down the wall until you were on the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. Your mind whirled as you tried to figure out what just happened. 
But hours later, when the sun began to crest over the horizon, you were still so lost. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
A few days passed by without you so much as catching a glimpse of Azriel. Apparently, your brother had sent him off on some mission, likely out of spite. Or perhaps even for your benefit. As much as you wanted to see him after that night on the balcony, his absence gave you time to think about what you wanted or needed to do. 
Ultimately, you decided the next time you came across him alone, you would force him to talk to you, to tell you what the hell that night was about. It was only fair. You deserved an explanation after all. He had treated you like shit, then came to you and nearly kissed you, before disappearing. And his words had been ringing in your head every single night.
Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.
They made no sense to you. It had seemed like he wanted you that night, judging by the arousal you had scented, the feel of him against you. And you knew he could tell you wanted him too. So why would you be doing either of you any favors from staying away from him? It made no Godsdamn sense and you needed an answer to his cryptic words. So you would demand it of him the next time he came around. 
You stretched your legs out on the couch, yawning as you placed a bookmark to keep your place in the novel you were in the middle of reading, and snapped it closed. It had been a long day of taking care of Nyx while Rhys and Feyre had to attend to some courtly duties. The house had been noticeably vacant today, just the two wraith twins occasionally floating in to check on you and baby Nyx. 
Normally Elain was around to keep you company on days like this but even she had run off somewhere for the day. You had just started to get up, ready to retire to your bed, when the front door slammed open. You jumped at the noise, whirling towards the foyer. Rhys and Feyre weren’t due back until tomorrow morning, so who else could it—
Elain stumbled into view, followed by Azriel. Both hadn’t even noticed your presence as they kissed wildly, bumping against the walls as they moved inside. The scent of Elain’s arousal flooded the room and you choked on the scent causing them to break apart in surprise. 
Your stomach sank at their appearance. The top buttons of Azriel’s shirt were undone, exposing some of the tattoos on his chest. Elain’s hair was in disarray, her lips swollen, as if they had been up to this for a while now.  Well, that explained why Elain had been gone all day. 
You stared at them with wide eyes as hurt slammed its way into you. Azriel had returned from his mission. He had returned and had sought out Elain. Hadn’t even thought to come to you to maybe give you some explanation of that night. You were probably the last thing on his mind right now anyways, that much was clear. 
“Oh my Gods,” Elain exclaimed, placing a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I knew Feyre and Rhys would be gone and assumed you’d be in bed by now.” 
Azriel said nothing, only stared at you with a cold, unfeeling look. You felt your breath shallow out, your nerves causing your hands to shake. You wanted to scream, wanted to vomit, to cry. But you did nothing. Just mustered up a small smile and muttered, “It’s okay.”
Elain went to say something else but Azriel grabbed her hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear, holding eye contact with you the entire time. “Come on, let’s go.”
He smirked as she blushed red and you could do nothing but just stare and stare at him. You didn’t move an inch as he pulled her away and up the stairs, Elain giggling the entire time. You didn’t move even after you heard her bedroom door slam close. 
You thought there was no way he could’ve hurt you more, but you had clearly underestimated him. How could he? How could he…act like that with you and then just carry on as if nothing happened? How could he just carry on with another girl after that charged night? You hand clenched the book you were holding as you struggled through your feelings. 
Your already broken heart somehow found even more ways to tear itself apart. But unlike months ago when you had caught them in the same predicament and cried all through the night and eventually fled from Velaris, no tears came this time. No tears at all. Instead white hot anger burned through you instead. 
You were tired of being captive to your own feelings. Tired of letting the stupid shadowsinger have so much power over you. You were so unbelievably tired of being constantly hurt by him. You couldn’t even use the excuse that he had no idea what he was doing to you when he had just made it so clear he did.
Your jaw tightened and you gave yourself over to the rage you felt. He had told you to stay away from him. So you would. But you sure as hell were about to make it impossibly hard for him to stay away from you. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
The next two days, you did exactly that. You ignored Azriel entirely. Didn’t so much as look in his direction. At training each morning with the Valkyries, you made sure to have a sparring partner ready to go before he could even open his mouth and demand you train with him. You didn’t greet him, only hugged Cassian good-bye each day, and pretended you didn’t hear him when he would call out your name. 
Meanwhile, you had spent your time in heated negotiations with your brother. You were ready to carve a place out for yourself in this court and after many discussions with him, Feyre and Mor, you three had reached a compromise. A certain letter that came from the continent had helped you plead your case. 
And that is why when Rhys stood up at family dinner, clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention, you knew exactly what he was going to announce. You kept your hands folded in your lap, your shoulders held back, and your body angled away from the end of the table where the shadowsinger sat. 
“Another announcement in a week?” Cassian laughed. “Don’t tell me Feyre’s having twins!”
Everyone chuckled as Nesta slapped him on the back of his head. He only grinned at his mate, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You smiled at their interaction despite the envy that crept its way into your head. Oh how you wished for that kind of love. Perhaps one day you would find your own mate and forget about the shadowsinger entirely. 
“Gods no,” Feyre chuckled from beside Rhys who conjured a piece of parchment in his hand. “We come with some news from the continent.” 
“I received some correspondence from Prince Cedric,” Rhys explained. “The King of Vallahan’s first born son and Heir to the Throne.” 
“Go on, read it to them,” Mor said with a giddiness that caused you to smile. 
Rhys read from the letter out loud:
To High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand,
I am writing to you because I have had the pleasure of spending the past month in the company of your lovely sister, y/n. I must admit, your sister has charmed my heart with her kindness, grace, wit and loyalty to your court. We know very little of Prythian’s courts here on the continent, but if your sister is a shining example of your citizens, I must admit, I am all the more curious about your court. As you might know, I am next in line for the Crown and my time may be coming soon.
In a world dictated by power, alliances between territories have allowed for stability and peace. When my time to wear the crown comes, I would like it to also come with the forging of two strong realms. With the utmost sincerity and goodwill, I believe a union between our territories through marriage would not only reward me with a beautiful bride, but prosperity and peace between our people. I assure you, High Lord, that I will propose with sincere commitment to your sister, to give her a life filled with love and respect as my future Queen. 
I understand that this is not a decision that will be made without proper communications, so I am prepared to meet with you at your earliest convenience to discuss this matter further. I hope you consider my request and I will remain with anticipation until you reach out.
Sincerely yours,
Prince Cedric of Vallahan
Heir to the Throne
A fork dropped on the table somewhere behind you and the room was silent for a moment before Cassian let out a loud whistle. “Holy shit, y/n!”
Mor cackled, reaching over the table to give you a high five. “That’s right, our girl bagged herself a Prince.” 
Your cheeks turned a bit pink at the attention. To be honest, you had no idea that Prince Cedric had been captured by you. It wasn’t like you engaged in any romantic courting or even so much as touched each other's hands. But your mere personality had won him over. Too bad he just wasn’t the male your heart had set its course on. 
“Not just a Prince, girl,” Amren chimed in. “A future King.” 
You could feel a heavy gaze settle on you from the other side of the table but refused to look that way. 
“And what about you, y/n?” Nesta asked. “Did the Prince win over your heart as well?” 
“I must admit, the letter came as quite a surprise to me,” you answered honestly.
“To me, as well,” Mor jumped in. “I mean, it’s not like they spent much time together outside of the formal dinners and parties we attended while there. Unless, of course, you snuck off with him while I wasn’t watching, you naughty wench.” 
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I assure you, I was a proper lady during our time at the King’s Cross.” 
“You certainly weren’t a proper lady during our time in Nysa,” Mor mumbled under her breath with a smirk. You kicked her under the table with a glare. 
You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at Azriel this time. He was already staring at you, his jaw set, his fist clenched around the stem of his wine glass. You could’ve sworn a bit of jealousy shined in his eyes. You quickly looked away, not wishing to show him you even cared about his reaction, though you did. 
“Well, as fun as this is,” Cassian said. “There’s no way you’d marry off your sister to go live in another territory. Right, Rhys?” 
Rhys looked inclined to agree but Feyre nudged him in the gut with her elbow. “If that is what she wishes, she will always have my blessing. It is her choice, of course. But a marriage is not the announcement I planned on making today. I merely read this letter to you all to show you how successful y/n has been as a representative of our court. And because of that, we have officially decided to not only give her the title of Emissary, but she is also going to take over Mor’s position in the Court of Nightmares since Mor has had her hands full with negotiations on the continent.” 
“It's about time you let your sister prove herself as a valuable member of this court,” Amren said, the closest thing you’d ever get as a congratulations. She did give you a small smirk, pride shining in her silver eyes. 
“She has always been a valuable member,” Cassian snided but smiled at you regardless. “If this is what you want, y/n, then congratulations! I’m glad I’ve taught you all the ways to kick ass, especially if you’re now going to be spending more time in Hewn City.” 
You laughed but gave him your thanks. Feyre proposed a toast for you and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face for the rest of the night as they planned for announcing the shift in leadership to Hewn City. You had already bought your dress for the occasion, ready to make the shadowsinger eat his heart out. You even felt a bit vindicated as a certain male decided to spend the rest of his own night brooding in his shadows. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Azriel tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Both his mind and his shadows seemed to be in a permanent state of chaos ever since dinner. He couldn’t get the image of you smiling as Rhys read the Prince’s letter out of his mind. He had never considered the possibility of you leaving this court, had never thought Rhys would ever allow that. 
He threw his sheets off, standing up and prowling towards the floor length mirror in the corner of his room. His eyes fell on the skin above his hip, on the small tattoo of Illyrian wings with a sword going straight through the middle of them. 
He wished he could take truth-teller and slice that bit of skin right off his body. But even with its absence, the burden of it would never disappear. He let out a curse, pure rage racing through him. How could he have known things would turn out this way? How could he have known how much pain that tiny tattoo would eventually bring him?
His fist shot out, punching straight through the mirror. He was so angry he didn’t even feel the pain of the tiny shards of glass piercing his scarred flesh. Gods, this was all so fucked up. So incredibly fucked up. 
His heart pounded as he thought about how you had felt pressed against him that night on your balcony. How your scent had driven him crazy. How stunning you had looked under the moonlight in that tiny nightgown. The Princess of Night was an accurate title for you and all your beauty. 
He fell on his knees, the broken shards of glass crunching under his weight, letting the blood from his hand drip down on the floor. No pain would ever compare to the one he felt now. The pain of craving you. Craving the touch of your skin, the taste of your tongue, the moans he could drag from that pretty little mouth. 
And Gods, the way you had looked at him. He had almost caved. Had almost decided to burn it all to the ground for one chance to taste you, feel you, claim you. But he couldn’t. So he went back to doing what he always had–keeping you at a distance. It hurt to do so, even more so whenever he saw how much it hurt you, but it was better this way. You needed to move on, needed to look for love elsewhere. 
Life had always been unfair to him but this, this was quite possibly the worst of it. For he knew he would always yearn for you, crave you, love you—but only ever from a distance. Because for him, you…you had been made untouchable. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
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2K notes · View notes
azuries · 5 months ago
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SEES RYOJI MASTERPOST i hope you guys enjoy reading through it! i was heavily inspired by all the amazing art and content ive seen of the concept that i wanted to explore it too!
ART:
Moonlight Trio
Yukari and Ryoji going shopping (SEES!Ryoji winter clothes variations)
Ryoji accidentally hitting MC with his scythe
SEES!Ryoji sketch dump
SEES!Ryoji Theurgy splash
SEES!Ryoji Theurgy Storyboard
Ryomina in Tartarus
Ryomina in Tartarus P2
Ryomina in Tartarus P3
SEES!Ryomina Illustration
Cooking with Yukari
SEES!Ryoji Sprite edit
SEES!Ryoji fanmade P3RE screenshots
Ryomina SEES!Ryoji animatic
feral SEES!Ryoji
Clumsy SEES!Ryoji
Charmed Ryoji
All Out Attack Splash
SEES!Ryoji Cut In Splash
Comic
Ryoji learns about evokers
More SEES Ryoji sketches
Ryoji killing the Reaper
Twitter post  
After Ryoji finds his resolve through the Hero, he offers to join his team. He gives him a choice to go through a better, yet harder way to get through Tartarus, a way only he can access. It features new bosses, content, and a new spin of the final fight with Strega.
Contains: Art, battle stats, Theurgy, combat dialogue, Tartarus dialogue and banter, and more!
Full post under the cut:
—-
This AU explores the idea that instead of Ryoji leaving for the last  month, he offers to join the team as a temporary team member to lend his power to help SEES reach the remaining floors of Tartarus before he merges with Nyx. More events happen that prolong the time you spend together. 
Ingame, it’s treated like a bonus mission and an addition to get to know Ryoji better during the aftermath of November. 
As a new addition to the team, he’ll join SEES in the dorm and have his own version of FTEs with plant tending, movie watching, book reading and cooking. He’ll have interactions with other party members. 
The player will also get to know more on his personal feelings as the Appriser. Through conversing with Ryoji, you learn in depth about Tartarus, and the player gets to see a more subdued side of him as he tries to come to terms with his identity. 
He uses an evoker to trigger his form as Thanatos instead of using it to summon a Persona.
The player can choose to go through this route, or play the game like how it was originally set. The ending remains the same.
Party Stats:
Level: Scaleable, 2 levels higher 
Element: Dark and Almighty
Weakness: None, reflects pierce damage 
Combat style: Prioritizes debuffing, tank 
Theurgy - Death’s Call: Deals massive almighty damage to all foes. Fears both enemies and allies. 
Theurgy condition: When Ryoji sees his friends suffer a lethal blow, he feels determined to take vengeance.
Theurgy Personality bonus:
Chance to grant Arcana Burst even without completing your Major Arcana stack.
+ More damage to weak foes. 
Intercepts an incoming lethal blow for a party member.
DIALOGUE:
Ryoji’s first Tartarus entrance dialogue: 
Ryoji: - So this is Tartarus.
I, I can feel her. She’s keeping an eye on us. On me.
Remember that I’m here to help. Tartarus is Nyx’s realm, but I should know a better way to help you get to the top. 
Keep in mind that I may not be as impenetrable while I’m here, and shadows will be a lot more hostile if we go this way. Are you sure you wanna do this?
MC:
> Nowhere to go but up.
> Let’s do this.
> Are you sure there’s no other way?
Don’t worry. Whatever‘s waiting for us, I won’t let anything happen to you. They’ll have to get through me first. 
First Summon dialogue: 
I have to do this. Everyone..I’m sorry for what you’re about to see. 
Get out here, Thanatos! 
Turning into Thanatos (Persona Summon) 
If this is what it takes.
Please look away.
Thanatos!  
Do what you must!
Combat 
Shift dialogue:
All up to you! 
We’re in this together!
Receiving end of shift dialogue: 
I’m on it! 
They’ll get what's coming to them.
Item use: 
This will help, right? 
Getting healed:
I don’t deserve this.
Death:
I-I hope it was enough. 
Sorry..
AILMENTS
Distress
It’s over.. Why do we still try?
Confuse 
Guys? What’s going on?!
Rage
Come on! Take me down if you can! 
Charm
So, how about dinner?~
Down
You’re kidding me! 
Shock
What is this?! 
AOA
Before All Out Attack:  
We’re going in! 
Before splash art: 
And that's how it's done! 
Splash art Caption: 
DEATH IS INEVITABLE
All Out Attack splash art line:
Pointless to deny your fate.
Basic victory dialogue: 
I hope it was worth it. 
Heh, how was that? 
Battle aftermath:
That was impressive. You’re all amazing!
Stairs discovery
Found the stairs. There’s no time to lose! 
Found the way up! You know best, leader.
Treasure
Ooh, something shiny! 
Hey, guys! Found something useful? Maybe?
SEES advantage: 
They never saw it coming! 
Ambush / enemy advantage: 
Leader, stay close to me!
Hit by crit: 
That’s impossible! 
SEES Tartarus dialogue w/Ryoji 
Junpei: Hey, so.. Ryoji… What’s with the long scarf? And how do you not slip from it when you run? 
Ryoji: I don’t think it’s that long! 
Yukari: Seriously? Out of all the questions you can ask him, that’s what you go with? 
—-
Mitsuru: For someone with no prior experience, you’ve been keeping up well, Ryoji-kun. 
Ryoji: I’m glad you think so, Kirijo-senpai.
Akihiko: Don’t push yourself, though, alright?
—-
Junpei: Ryoji! Now that you live with us, we have got to continue the game we were playing! 
Ryoji: I don’t think you’d want to…Didn’t I delete your save on accident?
Junpei: Eh, I wasn’t paying much attention to the story in the first place. 
—-
Ryoji: I never got to thank you before for helping me settle in, Fuuka. How about I take you out? 
Fuuka: Oh, of course! Let’s invite the others too!
Junpei: …Yikes, dude.
—-
Fuuka: I’ve always wanted to do karaoke with you all. You should join us, Ryoji-kun!
Ryoji: Oh, m-me...?
Junpei: Yeah, you’re always holed up in your room and we never know where you’re out at night! How about we sing our hearts out instead? 
Ryoji: Ahh.. haha..I… I’ll think about it. 
—-
Ryoji: *Humming Mass Destruction* 
Aigis: Ryoji-san. Were you the one making those sounds? 
Ryoji: Sorry! Makoto-kun and I were listening to some songs, and now I can’t get it out of my head. 
—-
Ryoji: Aigis..About what happened before. I feel like I should apologize one more time. 
Aigis: Instead of apologies, let’s make a promise. That we’ll see this through, together.
Ryoji: …Yeah. You’re right.  
—-
Aigis: It’s strange. In the real world, you’re impenetrable. But in Tartarus...
Ryoji: Until the promised day, I’m an obstacle to Nyx. I wouldn’t put it past her to limit my power. 
Mitsuru: So she was expecting this. Well, we just have to plan accordingly, then.
—-
Aigis: I decided to live, but…how do I even begin? How would I know? 
Ryoji: I already sense life within you, Aigis. You’re doing more than enough.
—-
Ryoji: Wandering Tartarus must feel repetitive. Maybe I can try something! I can add some arcade machines? 
Ryoji: Oh… but if I do that, Tartarus will just take it away again. *sigh* Nevermind, then.
Ken: Can.. Can you actually do that?!
Yukari: *sigh* Of course he can’t. 
—-
Akihiko: How are you holding up, Mochizuki? Think you can still keep up?
Ryoji: Heh, that’s not even a question, Senpai.
—-
Ryoji: I hope I’m not bringing you guys down. What do you think, Koromaru-san? 
Koromaru: *barks enthusiastically*
Fuuka: Hahaha. Koro-chan seems to enjoy your company!
—-
Yukari: Whew..! You guys notice the shadows have gotten…much more alert?
Akihiko: You’re right. It’s like we unlocked the deepest depths of Tartarus that Nyx didn’t want us to see.
—-
Junpei: Jeez Ryoji, you weren’t kidding. The shadows of this detour are a whole different monster! 
Ryoji: I’m sorry, Junpei. But I promise it’s just a little longer. 
Junpei: Who am I to back down from a challenge? This’ll be a piece of cake! 
—-
Mitsuru: Are you settling in the dorm well, Ryoji-kun?
Ryoji: Oh. I am, thank you. 
Mitsuru: Of course. Just let us know if you need anything.
—-
Ken: Did anyone hear footsteps in the boys’ dorm last night? 
Yukari: Must have been Aigis sneaking to Makoto’s room, even if I told her to not leave past curfew…
Aigis: It was not me. I was out for my monthly checkup. 
Yukari: Then… who was it?
Ryoji: It wasn’t me! 
Yukari: No one said it was you! 
—-
Ken: So, where have you been living before, well, all of this, Ryoji-senpai?
Ryoji: I-I actually don’t know. Anything outside of school and Makoto-kun becomes a blur.
Fuuka: Ryoji-kun…
—-
Ryoji: You’re amazing to lead such a capable team, Makoto-kun. You look good like this. 
—-
Yukari: Ryoji-kun and I went thrift shopping the other day. It was actually pretty fun!
Ryoji: Thanks for taking me out, Takeba-san. I wanted that jacket, though.. 
Yukari: Unless you wanna blind someone with that thing, there’s no good reason to wear it! 
Ryoji: *sighs sadly*
—-
Ryoji: There were so many couples on Paulownia Mall for Christmas Eve. It was lovely to see.
Junpei: Ooo, does our newest member have a special someone they have in mind?
Ryoji: I-I wouldn’t say that..
Junpei: Hahaha! You’re like a tomato right now, dude! 
Ryoji: Hey, knock it off!
—-
Ryoji: Wait, you’ve reached past the 200th floor?! Akihiko: All in a day’s work. Everyone has been putting in their all. 
—-
Akihiko: You’re hardly breaking a sweat. What’s your routine, Mochizuki?
Ken: I’m guessing it’s him not being human in the first place?
Akihiko: Ken, that’s not..!
Ryoji: It’s alright, I don’t mind. He has a point, though.
—-
Yukari: I won these chocolate bars, I brought them in case anyone wanted a snack. Want some? 
Ryoji: Oh, that’s okay. I don’t eat sweets that much. 
—-
Mitsuru: I have to say it was quite convenient for the Kirijo Group to have an extra weapon. 
Ken: Yeah, and what’re the odds it was a scythe too?
Ryoji: Hahaha…. I guess.
—-
Koromaru *bark*
Aigis: Koromaru-san is asking that if you’re Death, what will that make of the Reaper?
Junpei: I bet Ryoji here can take him down, no problem! 
Ryoji: I’d rather not stick around to find out. For your sakes.
—-
Ryoji: I was told you lost a close friend to the Dark Hour. I’m sorry for your loss.
Mitsuru: …Thank you, Ryoji-kun.
Akihiko: He’d want us to move forward. There’s no use dwelling in the past.
Ryoji: I guess you’re right. I’m here to help however I can. 
—-
Koromaru: *bark bark* 
Junpei: Hey… you think Koromaru sensed Ryoji’s true identity? 
Ken: Oh, do you mean because  of dogs’  intuition to ghosts and spirits? 
Fuuka: I don’t think Ryoji-kun’s just any ghost though..!
—-
Ryoji: Hey Takeba-san. Can I ask you something?
Yukari: I swear, if it’s you trying to ask me out again…
Ryoji: Oh, that’s not what I was gonna- Wait, do you want me to? Because-
Mitsuru: -I think I saw something important there, leader. Let’s check it out.
Ryoji: This feels too familiar.
—-
Junpei: Kyoto was so fun! School trips should happen more often. 
Yukari: *glare*
Junpei: Eep! 
Ryoji: Ah-! I-I swear, that wasn’t our intention! It was all a misunderstanding! Leader, tell her! 
—-
SP LOW: 
Mitsuru: Ryoji-kun. Make sure not to strain yourself. 
Ryoji: I’m fine, please don’t worry. I can’t let up in front of a pretty girl like you, now can I? 
—-
Fuuka: Leader… Ryoji seems tired. 
—-
If Makoto has low SP: 
Ryoji: You don’t look good…Please, pace yourself. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.
FTEs: (WIP)
Plant tending event
anddd thats it so far!! if this post ever needs updating, i definitely will!
thank you so much for reading! it really means a lot!
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