#mor gifs mask girl

[liyazaki]

#this is SO sapphic coded & no other opinions will be considered at this time; tysm

MASK GIRL | EPISODE 4

[thewulf]

The Quiet Between || Azriel

Summary: Request -Hiyaaa loved your Az story. So freaking good. I had one in mind and wonder if you could write it? Maybe some deep Azriel and reader angst? I'm picturing a scene where Azriel, drowning under his duties and secrets snaps harshly at the reader, our newest healer at the Night Court when she gently suggests he talks about what’s weighing on him. His words sting, making her doubt her role at the court... Read Rest Here

A/N: Whew this was challenging to write but I really love how it turned out! Please let me know how you like it below. And as always, keep sending in your requests!

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Dawn Court Reader)

Word Count: 6.2k +

TW: Mean Az, Harsh Words (soft ending!)

When Madja, the esteemed healer of the Night Court, realized the growing demands of her duties required an apprentice she petitioned the High Lord for permission to seek out a promising candidate. Her search led her to Dawn Court where your skills and unique approach to healing caught her attention. Impressed, as she often wasn’t, she offered you the chance to study under her. A chance to take over for her in a few hundred years. It was a proposition that both excited and terrified you. Normally you were more risk-averse but something within urged you not to let this opportunity slip by. Accepting the offer might be a decision you'd regret forever if declined.

Your arrival at the Night Court was a mix of awe and overwhelming pressure. You were acutely aware of the Court’s reputation with its warriors and schemers, and its dances of politics and power. Yet, as the years unfolded you found more than just acceptance. You found a place where you felt like you just might belong. Madja was an exacting teacher and under her guidance you thrived. Your skills became indispensable to the Night Court.

Mor, your favorite social butterfly, took it upon herself to integrate you into the Court's vibrant life. She invited you out with the girls to Rita's where the music and laughter helped weave you deeper into the fabric of Night Court society. Cassian with his easy grin and boundless energy offered to train you in physical defense. He said it was essential for everyone at the Court to know how to protect themselves. And even Rhysand himself showed you how to fortify your mental shields as a necessary skill amidst the intrigues that often played out around them.

Yet despite these warm inclusions, Azriel was the only one who kept a cautious distance. The shadowy spymaster was polite but reserved. He often watched you with a contemplative gaze that suggested he was trying to figure you out from a safe distance. His reluctance to engage was not overtly hostile but it was clear he held reservations. His own shadows clinging too tightly, perhaps, to allow another close. This delicate balance of respect and curiosity marked your interactions, or lack thereof, with the spymaster. You often caught glimpses of Azriel as his presence like a whisper in the vast halls of the Court. He was always just out of reach, both physically and emotionally. His aloofness didn't hinder your duties. But it did create a space of unanswered questions in your mind.

One cool evening in the Night Court the opportunity to bridge that distance between him presented itself unexpectedly. Azriel returned from a particularly grueling mission. His arrival unannounced except for the quiet clatter of his boots in the hallway of the healer's quarters. As he pushed open the door, the grimace etched across his face spoke volumes of the pain he was enduring, both visible and hidden beneath the surface.

You ushered him in, your professional demeanor in place yet your heart beating a tad faster with the realization that this was the closest you had ever been to him. His usually guarded expression was replaced with a rare, unguarded grimace of pain. It revealed a vulnerability he typically masked beneath layers of shadows and silence making you feel a touch uneasy.

"Let me help," you offered softly while guiding him to a seat where you could better assess his injuries. The proximity to him in this moment tending to his wound felt like an unspoken permission to finally address the silent questions that had lingered between you. It was an opening to understand the man who had so thoroughly perfected the art of being untouchable.

"Let's take a look at that," you murmur while taking his hand in yours. Your hands are steady and careful as you gently peel away the fabric near his wound. The cut isn't deep, but it's laced with poison, enough to have caused significant discomfort. “I’m sorry. This is going to sting.” You whispered as you rushed off to grab the needed supplies.

As you apply a soothing salve you notice Azriel's clenched jaw and the way his muscles tighten under your touch—not just from the sting of the wound. You've seen warriors in all states, and you recognize the signs of inner turmoil as clearly as physical injuries.

"Azriel," you start, your voice soft but firm, "even the strongest warriors can benefit from sharing their burdens. It doesn't make you weak to speak about what's weighing on your heart." You try and sound confident in your words, but it comes out as meek.

His reaction is immediate and sharp. It cut through the air like a freshly sharpened knife. Azriel's eyes snap up to meet your with a coldness in them that freezes you in place. "You think you have the right to offer me counsel?" he says with his voice low and biting. "You, who have barely seen a fraction of the darkness I have faced. Yet you presume to understand my duties, my sacrifices?"

You open your mouth to apologize. To clarify your intentions but he doesn't give you the chance. "No, don’t," he snaps. Cutting you off as your heart begins to sink. "Don’t patronize me with platitudes and naive compassion. You know nothing of the burdens I carry. Of the secrets that consume me. You see surface wounds and think to heal a soul scarred by centuries?" It was the most you had heard him speak and unfortunately for you those words made your heart nearly twist in two. Surely that wasn’t what you were trying to do.

Your eyes begin to burn. His words slicing through any defense you might have had. You look down instead focusing on the bandage. To hide the hurt that’s welling up, threatening to spill over. "I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

"Save your apologies," Azriel interrupts with a tone as harsh as a winter storm. "They mean nothing in the face of what I endure daily. You wish to help? Do so by not overstepping your bounds again." You drop his arm after finishing up removing the poison and sealing the cut. But he wasn’t done, no. You just wished he’d fly away instead of cutting you even deeper. You had no intention of offending him yet here he was, hurt by your very own words. You’d never truly felt like a helpless child in all your centuries until this very moment.

As he continues his words grow even colder, each one a deliberate stake right into your very own heart. "Understand this, healer. My life, my pains are not fodder for idle chatter or curious minds seeking to 'fix' what they perceive as broken. You cannot begin to comprehend the wars I fight within the shadows. Wars meant to protect you and everyone else here from horrors you should hope never to encounter." His words were final, offering you no chance at rebuttal. Not that you would have been able to find the words. Your mind was racing in horror about what had just transpired in your very own healing hall. You, the one who was meant to mend broken souls might’ve just torn his right back open.

He stands abruptly with his wound tended but the air around him colder than the stone walls of the court. His departure is swift, leaving a wake of silence so deep it echoes through the chamber. You're left alone with the sting of his rebuke more painful than any physical wound you've treated. His words replay in your mind as a harsh reminder of the chasm between his world of shadows and your desire to heal. Guilt begins to consume you as you replay the words that struck you so hardly in your mind.

The room feels overwhelmingly empty as you struggle to compose yourself. The impact of his dismissal weighing heavily on your heart. You realize that healing Azriel might be beyond your reach. Not for lack of skill, but because the wounds he carries are far deeper and more complex than you ever imagined. Perplexed and deeply hurt you find yourself grappling with a tumult of emotions. Confusion is the first to surface. You had approached the situation with genuine concern. Your offer to listen driven by the empathy that defines your role as a healer. His aggressive response, then, feels like an undeserved refusal. A dismissal not just of your words but of your very intent.

You replay the conversation in your mind, dissecting each exchange, each barbed word. His accusation that you, nestled in your world of herbs and healing, could never understand the scope of his darkness stings sharply. It's true though you realize. That the depths of his secrets are beyond your grasp. This acknowledgment doesn't ease the sting of rejection. If anything, it deepens the wound. You had not claimed to understand. You only wanted to listen. And yet, he had cut you off, leaving no room for reconciliation.

As the initial shock fades, a deeper, more persistent ache settles in. You're hurt. Undeniably so. Hurt by his insinuation that your attempts at comfort were trivial, naive even. Does he truly see you as just another court member? As just a healer? Naive to the true workings of his world? The thought is disheartening, and you feel a profound sense of isolation creeping in. A sense that perhaps you are out of your depth in this court of shadows and secrets. Perhaps your mother was right. You weren’t built for the Night Court. You had a wonderful, easy life in Dawn. She had even picked out a high-ranking husband for you that would’ve provided and kept you safe. Her nagging words pricked at the back of your mind as the last five years here almost fell all for nothing. Five years was no time in the world of fae, you knew this. You were still the new healer, but you had thought that maybe you were finally finding your footing here. But then again maybe you were wrong.

Yet, beyond the hurt and confusion there's also a glimmer of resolve. You're a healer, trained not only to mend wounds but to understand the people you treat. Azriel's outburst, though harsh, reveals more than his disdain. It highlights his immense burden. His profound isolation. Perhaps your approach was too direct. Too unguarded for someone so accustomed to concealing his emotions.

As you clean up the space a quiet resolution forms in your mind. You won't push him again, no, not without invitation. The sting of his words lingers, and you decide that perhaps the best way to handle this is to give him the space he seems to fiercely guard. He may have dismissed your concern today but it's clear that what he desires most is distance. Not the compassion you offered. In this moment of reflection, you recognize the complexity of healing. It’s not just about tending to visible wounds. It’s also about understanding when to step back. Recognizing that some scars are too deeply etched to be approached without consent. Azriel has his walls, high and fortified. And you, you decide, will no longer attempt to scale them. Instead, you resolve to avoid him, believing that distancing yourself is the kindest thing you can do for him right now.

This decision doesn't come easy. You're a healer, trained to offer solace and aid to those in pain. Yet, in this case, the healing you want to provide is not welcomed or perhaps even needed in the way you thought. You accept that sometimes healing means stepping back. It means allowing wounds to close in the solitude they were opened in. Maybe with time he will seek you out if ever he feels ready to lower his guard. Until then you'll focus on those who welcome your help carrying with you the lesson that sometimes the best way to care for someone is simply to let them be.

After the confrontation in the healing room the atmosphere at the Night Court seemed to shift becoming dense with an unspoken tension that hung heavily in the air. Azriel quickly became burdened by the discomfort of his own harshness. It wasn’t often but he felt an acute sting of regret. His words, sharper and colder than he had intended, replayed relentlessly in his mind. Each sentence an echo of a reminder of the pain he had inflicted on somebody so kind.

Late into the night he found himself wandering the quieter corridors of the court trying to clear his mind.. The stone beneath his feet was cold and unyielding much like the mask he wore so well. With each step he attempted to outpace his regret, but solitude brought no relief. The memory of the genuine shock and sadness in your eyes haunted him. A vivid image that refused to fade into the shadows where he so often retreated.

Why had he lashed out? Azriel questioned himself. His normally composed thoughts unraveling with unusual disorder. He knew the stress of his duties as the spymaster often left him on edge, a blade perpetually sharpened and ready. Yet, it was more than just the strain of his role. It was the fear of vulnerability. Of opening those darker parts of himself he fought so hard to control. Seeing your concern, so innocent and genuine, had somehow threatened the walls he had meticulously built around his emotions for centuries. He couldn’t become undone by your one simple question.

He hated himself for how he had responded to you. How his instinct to protect his inner turmoil had manifested as cruelty towards you. The more he thought about it the more he despised the part of himself that had become so adept at pushing others away, especially those who dared to care.

As Azriel continued his nocturnal wanderings the shadows around him seemed to whisper of solitude and sorrow. Yet, it was the sorrow in your eyes that lingered most prominently in his mind. He realized then that his actions might not only have hurt you but could also have damaged whatever budding respect or friendship could have grown between you. This thought tightened the already constricting band around his chest. He had messed up badly and he knew it. His shadows knew it.

Resolving to seek redemption, not just for his peace but to mend the fracture he had caused, Azriel decided he would apologize to you. He needed to explain to you. To make you understand that his outburst wasn’t a reflection of his feelings towards you but a misguided defense against his own insecurities.

His journey through the night didn’t erase his regrets, but it solidified his resolve. He would try to bridge the gap his words had created hoping that you would understand and perhaps forgive. In the quiet before dawn Azriel finally stopped walking, the decision firm in his mind. Tomorrow, he would face you again, not as the Night Court's daunting spymaster, but simply as Azriel… imperfect and remorseful.

As he moved silently past the gardens the moonlight cast a serene glow over the night-blooming flowers illuminating the path with a ghostly light. Drawn by the soft, muffled sounds of distress his shadows unconsciously steered him towards a secluded alcove hidden by tendrils of ivy and the long shadows of the towering trees. It was unmistakably you. His heart tightened as he approached. Driven by a mix of concern and a need to understand the impact of his earlier harshness.

There in the dim light, he found you seated on a small bench. You were not alone, but with one of the younger assistants from the healer's quarters he had recognized. The assistant, whom you often mentored, sat beside you with a hand on your shoulder. Her presence meant to support you as you struggled with a flood of emotions.

"I don’t know any more Helena. Maybe I just don't belong here," you whispered between sobs. Your voice shaky with uncertainty. Tears streamed down your cheeks unrestrained after holding them back for so long. Azriel's words had not just stung. They had acted as a dam break, releasing all the pent-up doubts and fears you had about your place in this illustrious court. "I keep thinking maybe I should just go back to Dawn. My very own mother always said I was chasing a fantasy coming here. Maybe she's right. Maybe a quieter life away from all this would be better for me. Maybe I’m not cut out for the Night Court."

The young assistant, Helena, looked up to you not only for your healing skills but also for your kindness and leadership. She listened intently. Her expression one of deep empathy and concern. "You can't think that way," she responded softly. Her voice earnest. "Everyone here, especially Madja, respects you so much. Cassian, Mor, even Rhysand—they all see how much you bring to our home. It's not just you’re healing. It's your spirit. You're meant to be here with us. Please don’t think like that. I’ve learned more than I ever thought possible from you. We need you here."

Her comforting words were meant to bolster your spirits, but the reassurance felt hollow against the backdrop of your raw emotions. Despite her encouraging tone, the doubts seeded by Azriel's harsh outburst lingered. They tainted your thoughts with shadows of uncertainty about your place in this world you had grown to love yet still sometimes felt alien in.

Azriel was hidden just out of sight. He felt a deep pang of regret as he listened. The raw pain in your voice and the sight of your tears struck him more profoundly than he had ever expected. He realized then that his careless words had cut far deeper than he had intended, not just challenging your confidence but piercing the very core of your sense of belonging. Knowing that an apology would be necessary but not sufficient, Azriel resolved to actively show that you were valued and essential. Not just as a healer but as a vital member of their community. His thoughts solidified in the quiet of the night. He would make amends, starting with a heartfelt apology and followed by actions that would hopefully restore your faith in your place at the Night Court.

It was an ordinary yet busy day in the healer's quarters of the Night Court. You were deeply focused on tending to a young fae warrior who had sustained a minor but painful injury during training. As you carefully applied a healing salve the sound of urgent voices and heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.

"He needs help now!" Azriel's voice carried a tone of dire urgency as he burst into the room. He was supporting a limping Cassian whose leg was bleeding profusely from a deep gash surely laced with poison. These damn Illyrians always coming back with some form of poisoned injury. The sight of such an injury would normally have you on your feet and rushing over. But the presence of Azriel, the harbinger of your recent heartache, gave you pause.

For a split second your gaze met Azriel's and the memory of his harsh words and cold dismissal surged through your mind. You looked away as quickly as you could. Your chest immediately tightened with anxiety at the thought of what to do. It wasn’t fair to Cassian to ignore him, but you didn’t think you could face Azriel right now. Terrified of another confrontation and still raw from the last you quickly turned your attention back to the young fae before you.

"This one's in a critical state, I need to focus here. Helena, please attend to the General." you called out your voice slightly louder than necessary. The lie laid bitter on your tongue. It wasn't entirely untrue. His injury did need attention, but it certainly wasn't as dire as Cassian's condition.

Helena, who had followed in behind Azriel and Cassian, quickly stepped forward to assist, sensing the tension. "I've got him, don't worry," she spoke as she moved to tend to Cassian with a swift efficiency that you were grateful for.

As you focused intently on the young fae's injury with your back turned to the drama unfolding behind you, you heard every strained whisper and shuffling footstep echoed ominously. Despite your efforts to concentrate your mind spun with anxiety and dread. You knew your actions were a protective shield guarding you from a confrontation you felt unprepared to handle.

Behind you, Azriel's concern for Cassian was palpable. His usual stoic demeanor was pierced by urgency. His voice a low, constant murmur as he assisted your assistant. Yet, his mind was partly on you. He was troubled by the palpable tension and the rigid set of your shoulders. The memory of his previous harshness towards you weighed heavily on him, mixing regret with a newfound caution. He wondered if his actions had broken something essential. Perhaps fearing that your trust in him might be irreparably damaged.

Cassian, despite his pain noticed the strained dynamics as well. As your assistant worked on his wound his eyes flicked towards you, then back to Azriel. "What happened between you two?" he hissed under his breath not missing the unusual distance you kept. Azriel's silence was an answer in itself. It was filled with remorse and resignation. Cassian's frown deepened. Concern for his friends overshadowing his physical discomfort. "You need to fix this, Az," he muttered, firm yet worried. "She’s not just any healer. She’s part of this family now. She’s going to replace Madja someday."

Once the immediate crisis was handled and Cassian was stable Azriel made his way towards you. His steps were hesitant, each one heavy with regret. When he paused by your side his presence felt like a cold shadow. His usual warmth for his family became obscured by the barrier that had formed between you.

"Thank you," he said softly. His voice low and perhaps understanding more than you wanted him to. "For all that you do here." You sucked in a breath at his words. Was he apologizing? Was he sorry? Were you completely misreading the situation yet again?

You didn't turn to face him. Fear of what you might see in his eyes—anger, disappointment, or worse, indifference—kept you fixed in place. "Of course," you managed to whisper. The words barely escaping your lips. He sensed that this wasn’t the time nor place to dig deeper so he resolved to keep his words simple. He would find you later when you weren’t busy working. He truly needed to apologize to you.

After he left the weight of the encounter settled heavily upon you. You felt a mix of relief at having avoided direct confrontation and a deep-seated guilt for your evasion. You knew this wasn't just about professional duties. It was about the fractures within a team, a family you had grown to cherish.

Later, as the healer’s quarters quieted and the evening settled in, Cassian found you in the gardens, where the night’s cool air seemed to echo the chill in your own thoughts. It was your favorite place to relax and unwind. Your sanctuary in the chaos that was the Night Court. He approached with a confident stride despite his recent injury and his expression was serious.

"Hey," he started. His voice carrying a hint of his usual directness mixed with concern. "Things were off between you and Az today. He’s worried, and frankly, so am I. We’ve all had our rough patches, but we don’t let that drive a wedge between us. Yeah?"

You paused, looking down at your growing herbs rather than meeting his gaze. You let out a soft sigh before answering him. "I’m just scared, Cass. I’m worried I’ll say the wrong thing again. It’s like... I’m tiptoeing around landmines with him. How do I even start to fix that?"

Cassian nodded. His features softening slightly. "Az can be intense. I won’t argue with that. But he’s also one of the most upright guys I know. Just be honest with him. Tell him you’re trying to avoid making things worse. He respects straightforwardness. Always has." He took a step closer, lowering his voice. "And remember, it’s not just about avoiding the landmines. It’s about clearing the field. Start with the truth. It’s always been the best foundation for us here, no matter how hard it might be."

You nodded appreciating his words. He was right. The truth got you so much further. "Thanks, Cass," you replied feeling a resolve begin to form. "I think I’ll talk to him. Just lay everything out."

"That’s the way," Cassian said with a brief nod. "We’re all here together, and we keep no secrets... save Azriel,” He smirked knowing that’s likely what got the two of you in the situation in the first place. “At least not the kind that hurt. If you're honest, he’ll listen. And if there’s anyone who can understand the value of facing hard truths, it’s Azriel."

As Cassian left you to your thoughts the weight on your shoulders didn't lift entirely but you felt more prepared to face the challenge ahead. Honesty would be your approach; you would share your fears with Azriel, hoping that it would bridge the gap between you. After all, in the Night Court, even the darkest shadows were faced together, not alone.

The next night you found yourself back in the serene confines of your herb garden where the evening light softened the edges of each leaf and petal. You were deeply absorbed in tending to a cluster of chamomile. The quiet focus on your plants provided a necessary reprieve from the swirling anxieties that had occupied your thoughts lately. However, your calm shattered when a shadow loomed unexpectedly over you. Azriel.

Startled, you looked up, only to find him standing there watching you with a curiosity you’d never seen from him before. His sudden presence was imposing and unexpectedly close and sent a rush of panic through you. His height and the intensity in his eyes seemed to fill the space making the air around you feel thinner.

"Oh! Azriel, you surprised me! I didn’t hear you walk over," you blurted out. A nervous chuckle escaping you as you hastily tried to gather your scattered wits. "I was just, um, focusing here, and—you know, plants don’t really talk back, so I guess I wasn't expecting any company."

He paused after noting your discomfort. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you," he said gently. His voice a soothing rumble. "I came to apologize. For the last time we spoke. I was too harsh. It was unfair to you."

Your response tumbled out in a rush. Your words tripping over each other. "No, no, it’s fine, really. I mean, not fine fine, but you know… I should’ve been more aware or something. I’m usually not this jumpy, I swear. Maybe a little—actually, maybe a lot right now because, well, you're kind of, um, imposing? And this wasn’t how I imagined our next conversation going..."

Azriel’s slight smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it did appear to carry a hint of amusement at your rambling. "I appreciate you saying that, but truly, I am the one who should be apologizing. I’ve thought a lot about what I said... and I regret it deeply. You didn’t deserve that." He took another step toward you as you stood.

You swallowed hard trying to steady your racing heart. "Why are you apologizing now?" you managed to ask feeling suddenly very aware of how close he was standing. The question felt bold, but your voice was anything but confident.

He took a slight step back giving you a bit more space. "Because I realized I might have made you feel unwelcome or undervalued here and that’s… that’s the last thing I want. We all need to support each other, and I failed in that moment. I want to make it right if you’ll let me."

Your mind raced with every thought, but you nodded feeling a mix of apprehension and relief. "I... yeah, I’d like that. I’ve been feeling a bit lost here. Like maybe I don’t belong. It’s been tough, and, well, your words stung. But maybe, I don’t know, maybe we can start over? Try to understand each other a bit more?" As you offered him a tentative smile the garden seemed to return to its peaceful state. The earlier tension dissipating slightly.

Azriel’s gaze softened with a rare flicker of amusement lighting his eyes as he noticed your unease. "You handle the complexities of healing with such ease," he commented with a slight tease in his voice, "yet you seem quite disarmed by a rather simple conversation."

You gave a small self-conscious laugh appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, it's one thing to deal with herbs and potions. They tend not to talk back. It's another to navigate apologies and emotions. Especially with someone who usually keeps his cards so close to his chest."

He smiled and it transformed his face, softening the usual stern lines. "Fair enough," he conceded. Then, his expression turned more serious. The playful glint replaced by a depth of sincerity. "I really am sorry, though. For everything. I know I keep saying it, but it’s because I mean it. I’ve been... difficult towards you these last few years. And I don’t want to burden you with the things I’ve carried. Of the decisions I've had to make. It’s not your weight to bear."

You listened, understanding dawning as you saw the heavy cloak of responsibility he wore. Something that was so integral to his identity yet so isolating. "Maybe not," you replied softly, "but sharing those burdens doesn’t mean you're passing them on. It just means you’re not alone with them anymore. We can share without it being a burden. Sometimes, sharing is how we heal."

Azriel looked at you with something like wonder flickering in his gaze. "I suppose you’re right," he admitted. "It’s just not easy for me. I’ve always thought keeping my troubles to myself was a way to protect others. But maybe... maybe I’ve been wrong about that." The conversation deepened as each of you explored the nuances of forgiveness and the strength found in mutual understanding and empathy. Azriel learned about the power of vulnerability. Not as a spymaster but as a man. And he saw how your empathy and gentle nature enriched the court in ways that strategy and strength could not.

"I've kept many secrets," Azriel confessed. His voice a soft murmur against the backdrop of rustling leaves. "Not because I enjoy the solitude but because I fear the consequences of those secrets unraveling."

"You don’t have to tell me everything," you assured him. "Just knowing that you trust me enough to admit you have these secrets is a step. We all have secrets Azriel. What matters is how we face them and who stands with us when we do."

Azriel nodded. The corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled. A real smile that reached his eyes. "Thank you for understanding."

You nodded but still felt a nagging question at the bottom of your heart. The gardens around you seemed to hold their breath as you voiced a concern that had been shadowing your thoughts. "Azriel, back when you... when you were upset. You called me 'healer.' Is that… is that all you see me as?" Your insecurity got the better of you. The question sounded so much more childish as you asked it aloud, but you needed to know the answer.

Azriel’s expression changed instantly. The regret in his eyes unmistakable. "Gods, I am so sorry, Y/N. I was angry and overwhelmed and I unfairly took it out on you." His voice was thick with remorse. His usual stoicism giving way to a rare openness. "You are so much more than just a healer to us, to me. I should never have made you feel otherwise." Seeing the sincerity in his gaze you felt a complex knot of emotions begin to untangle. Yet, there was still a shadow of sadness in your eyes. A remnant of the hurt his words had caused.

Noticing this, Azriel did something completely unexpected. He stepped closer. His presence enveloping you whole, and hesitantly, almost awkwardly he opened his arms. "May I?" he asked softly giving you the choice.

With a small nod you stepped into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. It was a rare gesture from him as he was known for his guarded nature. It spoke volumes of his regret and his desire to make amends. His shadows ever a part of him, seemed to curl around the both of you gently. A comforting whisper against your skin.

As you stood there held in his careful embrace Azriel spoke again, his voice gentler than you had ever heard. "I’m truly sorry, Y/N. For everything. I let my anger and frustrations dictate my actions and you bore the brunt of that. I promise you this, I will do better. You deserve better."

Pulling back slightly he looked down into your eyes, ensuring you could see the truth in his. "Thank you for giving me the chance to apologize, to make things right. I don’t take your forgiveness lightly."

Your heart that was once heavy with doubt and hurt now fluttered with a burgeoning sense of renewed connection. "Thank you, Azriel, for understanding, for this," you said, your voice steady despite the emotions brimming within.

This conversation that was once a tentative path to reconciliation had blossomed into something deeper. A genuine connection fostered by understanding and shared vulnerabilities. Azriel's willingness to show his softer side, to bridge the gap with both an apology and a hug, marked a new chapter in your relationship. One filled with potential for even greater understanding and closeness. Together in the quiet of the herb garden you both began to navigate a path toward healing. Your relationship strengthened by the honesty and empathy of your exchange. It was a tentative step forward. One filled with potential for deeper understanding and a strengthened connection.

As the weeks turned into months, the atmosphere between you and Azriel visibly shifted. You both continued with your roles at the Night Court—Azriel, cloaked in shadows as the spymaster, and you, weaving magic and medicine as a healer. The sharp edges of earlier interactions softened replaced by a mutual respect and an unspoken understanding that grew with each passing day.

One evening during a relaxed gathering at the Night Court, the air was filled with the soft murmur of conversations and the warm laughter of friends and allies. Under the gentle glow of twilight you found yourself beside Azriel discussing something that excited you greatly—a plan for a new herb garden specifically designed for healing and restorative properties.

As you outlined your ideas your enthusiasm was palpable. "I’ve been researching some rare herbs that could thrive here under the Night’s eternal stars," you explained with your hands gesturing animatedly. "There’s this one flower, Lumina Blossom, known for its potent healing capabilities with poison but incredibly rare. I think with the right care, we could cultivate it here."

Azriel watched you with a soft smile playing on his lips as he listened intently. The usual shadows that clung to him seemed to lift slightly instead replaced by a light of curiosity sparked by your passion. It was a stark contrast to the brooding intensity he was known for. His gaze was fixed on you, clearly fascinated by your knowledge and the excitement that lit up your features.

"Have you considered adding Dawnlight Belle to your garden?" he suggested. His tone encouraging but slightly hesitant, as if he were treading on unfamiliar ground. "I've heard it's a good one. Especially for salves used in treating deep wounds, which unfortunately, we encounter often here."

You paused, your expression a mix of surprise and delight. "Azriel, I'm impressed you’ve heard of Dawnlight Belle," you said while nodding enthusiastically. "Yes, it's remarkably effective for healing deep wounds and incorporating it here would indeed be incredibly beneficial. It's also a bit of home but with a practical use for the Night Court."

Azriel’s smile widened slightly. His usual reserve melting away in the warmth of the conversation. "I thought it might be useful," he said softly. "It’s important to have pieces of home with us. And you’ve done so much to find your place here. It’s only fitting your garden does the same."

The conversation flowed easily between you as it slowly had come to. And as you spoke more about your plans Azriel's responses were thoughtful, showing his deep respect for your work. It was clear that he was not only listening but also truly engaged in what you were sharing.

As the evening wore on you found yourself more relaxed and open to discussing your hopes and dreams for the garden. Azriel's attentiveness and the sincere interest he showed in your passions brought a new depth to your interaction. A sense that something meaningful was blossoming between you, rooted in mutual respect and a shared sense of purpose.

Together you sketched out potential layouts for the garden. His strategic mind complementing your creative vision. The project that was born from a casual conversation was shaping up to be a beautiful symbol of regeneration and unity. It was a confirmation to the growing relationship forming between you as you both discovered the joy of collaboration and mutual understanding.

From across the way Cassian caught Rhysand and Feyre’s attention, nodding subtly towards you and Azriel with a wide grin. "Look at that," he chuckled. "Seems our resident shadowsinger has found a bit of light. Never thought I’d see the day."

Rhys, with a sly grin and a sparkle in his eye that matched the mischief in his voice, glanced over at you two. "Oh, I’d say there’s a bit more than just gardening going on there," he quipped as he leaned back with an air of casual intrigue. "Wouldn’t you agree, Cass? Feyre? It seems our spymaster might just be more enchanted with our lovely healer than he lets on."

Cassian laughed. His loud voice booming across the room. "You're one to talk, Rhys. Just don’t start planning their mating ceremony yet. Let them at least decide if they like each other first."

Feyre, who had been quietly observing the exchange from her place next to Rhysand, chuckled and shook her head. "She seems so good for him I must admit. But don't you dare meddle, Rhysand. We know how that turns out," she teased. Her eyes gleaming with humor. "Remember the Great Cake Incident of '49?"

The group erupted into laughter, including Rhys, who rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a grin. "Alright, alright, no meddling," he conceded. His voice still laced with laughter. "But for the record, that cake deserved better and meddling here would only help them."

The evening continued with the stars twinkling above as conversations flowed around the room. Your interaction with Azriel, now less guarded and more genuine, did not go unnoticed by those who knew him best. As the night deepened, the easy banter and shared smiles between you and Azriel spoke of something that was quietly strengthening. It was clear to everyone, even without Rhysand’s playful meddling, that something significant was blossoming. Something that went beyond the professional respect of two court members.

Together, you and Azriel discovered that even in a place as mystical and imposing as the Night Court, the true magic lay not just in ancient spells or hidden power but in the connections forged through vulnerability, trust, and perhaps, the beginnings of something deeper.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

[velariscalling]

Morally Grey - An Azriel Imagine

Characters: Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Cassian drags the IC to his new obsession: open mic night at Rita's, and much to his delight, Azriel has been paired up to sing with the Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol, suggestive language.

A/N: My first ever imagine is HERE!! Honestly I've been so nervous to put this out as it's all very new to me, but I really hope you guys enjoy it! I'm really looking forward to see how my writing develops as I post more, but for now, I hope you enjoy my first post! It's just a load of silly fun tbh. And finally, thank you so much to @sarawritestories for helping me out with the ending, you're the best! <3

Soundtrack: 'Morally Grey' by April Jai feat. Nation Haven

Disclaimer: GIF isn't mine - credit to whoever it belongs to.

Rita’s was bustling.

As it always was on a Friday night, really. They probably should have known better than to come on a weekend, but the welcoming vibrancy of the bar was a welcome reprieve from a long week’s work. Y/N took a deep breath as the music hit her, exhaling as she let any remaining stress seep from her body and into the night.

Before she could think too much about the busy days she’s had as of recently, a hand grabbed each of hers - one perfectly manicured, one covered in swirls of black ink - and pulled her in the direction of the bar. Mor flagged down a barman who recognised them immediately - it wasn’t a rare occurrence for the Night Court’s Inner Circle to make an appearance here.

After a moment, she handed her a shot glass filled with bright green liquid. “Bottoms up, you’re gonna need it tonight,” she grinned, already having necked her own. Feyre giggled as Y/N raised a questioning eyebrow at the blonde, throwing back her shot anyway and wincing at the tangy liquid.

“And why is that, exactly?” Y/N cocked her head at her friend, who’s brown eyes danced with excitement.

“Oh come on,” she rolled her eyes playfully, already flagging down the barman for yet another shot, just for herself this time. “You really think Cassian’s going to let us miss out on tonight? He’s been preparing his song with Rhys for days.”

It’s true - Cassian’s favourite night of the week was their newest tradition, open mic night at Rita’s. Four songs, four duos, randomly selected. Or so he says, anyway. He probably matched himself with Rhysand so he could convince him to sing Mysterious Girl together.

Feyre gripped Y/N’s hand from her other side, clearly trying her hardest to hold back a squeal of excitement. “How are you feeling?” She knew that there was more to that question than meets the eye. It wasn’t a secret that Cassian’s little game had paired her up with Azriel, much to his delight.

She put on her mask of indifference that she had mastered over the months of knowing the shadowsinger, refusing to give any details away of her incessant feelings for him that prodded at her constantly. “I am feeling absolutely fine, High Lady,” she smiled, eyes shining, but a scoff from her left interrupted her.

“Please,” Mor drawled, looking at her with a face that said, don’t even try. “You literally can’t fool anyone, especially not us, so drop the act.”

Okay, so maybe she hadn’t mastered her mask as well as she had initially thought, her twin’s nod of agreement cementing that conclusion. “Okay fine, but what do I have to be nervous about? You are all the ones who should be nervous when we out-sing you.” She smirked at them, but they shared a knowing look.

“There it is, changing the subject,” Feyre chuckled, nursing her drink in her hand. Y/N scowled at her, but she could never actually be mad at her. Frankly, she was more irritated by the fact that she knew her so well. “What? Y/N, this is what happens every time we bring him up.”

She opened her mouth to argue, when an arm was slung over her shoulder, and Feyre’s. “Ladies,” Rhysand’s melodic voice sounded over the music as he appeared between the sisters. He nodded at Mor with a grin, who was already on her… third, or fourth shot? Who knows. “Cass will have a temper tantrum if I don’t drag you all over to the stage right now.”

Feyre rolled her eyes with a laugh and allowed her mate to spin her into his arms, and they both made their way over to the Inner Circle’s area of the bar. Y/N’s heart warmed at the sight of them, knowing that her twin, her double in every way, had found her happiness. Mor looped her arm through hers as they walked behind them, her eyes following Y/N’s gaze. “You’ll have that soon, you know.”

Y/N looked over at her. She was so breathtaking, her brown eyes contrasting her golden hair, and her signature red dress hugging her flawless body in all the right places. Any male or female in this room would be lucky to get her, and yet, she didn’t care. Next to her, though, Y/N felt like nothing. As if Mor could sense her thoughts, she squeezed her arm affectionately. “Come on. Tonight’s the night you’re going to show that other side of you- oh don’t give me that look, I know it’s there.”

Y/N huffed, a lighthearted sound, and shook her head softly. “I wish I had your confidence,” She murmured, a dry joke.

“Babe, you’re sexy. When are you going to realise that?” The sheer certainty in Mor’s voice had Y/N raising her eyebrows at her friend, who simply nodded, as if agreeing with herself. “Channel it tonight. I’ll be watching.” She winked, and released her arm as they arrived at their own table right in front of the stage.

Rhys and Feyre had already taken their seats at the centre, High Lord and Lady looking elegant as ever. Cassian sat to Rhys’s right, his excitement akin to a golden retriever, as Amren, who was sat next to him, clearly tried her hardest not to throttle him. Next to Feyre sat Azriel, his looming shadows making the already dark bar appear pitch black in his presence. There were two empty chairs to his left, and finally Nesta sat at the end of the table, clearly trying to make the most of as much peace and quiet as she could get before the night’s shenanigans unfolded. Mor was quick to take the seat next to her, leaving Y/N between her and Azriel. He gave her a short smile as she sat down, ever the emotionless. “Are you ready?”

The low, icy voice of the shadowsinger never failed to take her by surprise. If the living embodiment of darkness could talk, it would sound like him. She looked at him, his hazel eyes glowing even in the darkness, and replied, “Are you?”

Before Azriel could respond, a flute of sparkly champagne slid from Y/N’s left into view. She turned to see Nesta, wordlessly handing her the drink, with grey-blue eyes that told her that she, too, thought she needed an extra little liquid confidence tonight. She noticed Mor biting her lip so hard she looked as though she may explode, and she rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips as she turned back to Azriel. To her surprise, it appeared as though a similar grin was tugging on those lips as well.

He merely raised his glass to hers, eyes shining with a grin that he wouldn’t let fully show on his face. She picked up her own glass and clinked it against his, matching his honey gold gaze.

Let the night begin.

It’s safe to say that the performances of the night were… well, entertaining. Cassian was a little too excited dragging Rhys up to perform their number first, giving major boyband energy up on that stage. Feyre was in fits of laughter, but Nesta looked like she wanted to claw her eyes out… but perhaps secretly enjoyed it behind that mask of disgust. Y/N’s two sisters were up next with a rendition of Love Story in which Nesta was surprisingly involved, followed by Amren and Mor’s take on Lady Marmalade, which was frankly the worst thing anyone had ever heard. If the monster lurking beneath Amren’s skin was anything like her singing voice, then Mother help us all.

It wasn’t long before her friends were cheering and whooping as Y/N stood from her seat - the final song. “Get him girl,” Mor whispered as she passed her, Azriel on her heels. She felt the shadows licking at her ankles as she ascended the steps to the stage, gripping the microphone that had been handed to her on the way.

As Azriel situated himself to her left, she stole a quick glance at him. He was looking at the floor, uncharacteristically tense under the gazes of all their friends. It was no secret that Azriel had the most beautiful voice you’d ever heard, a gift from the Cauldron itself, but it occurred to her now that maybe no one else had heard it before. Aside from her, at the couple of short practices they  had done. Even then, she didn’t think he was giving his all.

Y/N faced the front and prepared for the music to play - she was more of a seasoned performer than Azriel. She had played her fair share of gigs around Velaris, a good handful of which on this very stage. If she was showing some confidence, she hoped that it would spark some inside of him. She steeled herself, breathing in deeply as she raised the microphone to her lips, and the music began.

“He’s got gold eyes, crooked smile, knows that he drives me wild,”

She felt the heat of the spotlight on her as she let her voice ring through the bar. It was soft, to begin with, giving the song room to breathe, to build. She looked over at the man she was sharing the stage with, noticing tension already lost from his shoulders at the sound of her voice. His eyebrows were raised ever so slightly, and she knew then that he’d realised how she’d changed the lyrics to fit him, those perfect golden eyes.

“Can’t help myself, no I’m not in denial,”

The smile she sent his way was telling, it spoke a hundred words. But it wasn’t just her grin that conveyed the message she sent: you’re okay, you’re with me, move with me. There was something between them, an invisible thread connecting the two of them, body and soul and mind. Certain thoughts, certain feelings - she could feel his, and he could feel hers. A bond like this had meaning, they both knew this, but neither of them were bold enough to explore it, acknowledge it. Across that bond, she beckoned him: Azriel, you’re with me, and I’m with you… play with me.

“I know he’s no good for me,”

There was a flicker of something in the shadowsinger’s eyes, as if his mind had decided to pull him down an alternative route to the one he was prepared to go down, the one where he’d back out and run. A shadow of a smirk lingered on his lips, as his own shadows danced around him excitedly, egging him on. The weaving tendrils were clearly more than satisfied with the idea that flashed through their master’s mind, whatever images Y/N’s words had conjured up. Azriel, play with me.

“But when he gets down on his knees,”

The spark in his eyes only seemed to brighten as he brought the lyrics to life, sinking slowly down onto his knees before her. The shit-eating smirk he wore on his face in response to her evident surprise could have sent her to her own knees as she beheld him, kneeling, for her. Mother spare her. A quick glance to her right at the others confirmed that they had all had the same reaction she had, and she feared that the bar staff may have to assist in picking their jaws up from the floor. Azriel’s face was challenging, knowing, yet almost the picture of innocence as she felt his response in her mind: You told me to play with you. She sent one word back at him: Bastard.

If he was going to play dirty, so was she.

“He’s so eager to please, knows the right frequencies,”

He reached a hand out as if to touch her - where, she wasn’t sure - but she grabbed it before he could make any contact. Scars felt rough against her soft skin as she walked slowly, teasingly around him and she sang the chorus, her heeled boots tugging her posture upright so her body curved in all the right places. She caught Feyre’s eye as she circled Azriel, still knelt on the floor and looking as though he was more than content to stay there forever. Y/N’s sister looked like her eyes were about to bulge out of her head, her smile growing so big that Y/N thought it would be too big for her face. Next to her, Rhysand simply winked, an encouraging smirk boosting her confidence.

“They say he’s morally grey, what can I say? Grey’s my favourite colour,”

As she made her way back to the front of Azriel’s view, still gripping his hand as he held it upright for her to use, she slowly lowered herself down to a squat in front of him as she sang the line. From this angle, she was now much closer to his face than before, and she noticed the subtle sheen of lust glazing over his eyes. It almost made her lose balance - almost. She brought his hand gently to her lips, placing a chaste kiss onto his marred knuckles, and he took in a sharp breath. Most people flinch when they see his hands, or grimace, or turn away. Not Y/N. No, she thinks Azriel’s scars are part of his story. The backstory to a warrior, a survivor. Scars are not the memory of what happened, but a testament to who you have become.

“Morally grey, what can I say? Grey’s my favourite…”

She rose to her feet, prepared to give Azriel some space to begin his verse, remembering the nerves that clung to him barely a minute ago. As she began to turn, taking the first step away from him, something cold slithered around her ankle, and one around her waist. The shadows pulled her straight back to where she was as the music lowered, and held her in place, as if they knew that hearing his voice would send her to the floor. And Mother above, they knew her well.

“What can I say? No I don’t pray, but for your body, I’ll worship,”

She could have sworn her knees buckled, but she couldn’t tell from the shadows holding her still. Azriel’s voice was like silk, so soft and pure, yet it lit her insides on fire in a way that she’d never felt, burning her up like a beautiful, dying star. If his voice was to be the thing to send her to her death, then so be it. She would die very, very happy. He reached out once again, and this time she did not stop him as he ran his hand up her thigh all the way to her waist from his position on the floor. Even kneeling, his Illyrian frame was intimidatingly large, her body standing not too much taller than his. His eyes watched his hand intently as it traced the curve of her side, as if they didn’t have an audience, one that was most definitely gaping at Azriel’s sudden brazenness.

“Girl don’t be afraid, my love’s a grenade, just be a good girl, you can take it,”

Like an angel rising from the ashes of war, Azriel stood slowly, wings flaring as he rose to his full height. His gaze was already intense when she was the one looking down at him, but now that he was the one towering over her, the darkness in his eyes shot electricity straight through her body and into her core, her head reeling with thoughts so sinful that nothing could save her. His hand on her waist squeezed on the words good girl, and she was forced to bite her lip hard to stop herself from reacting in a way that would later be incredibly embarrassing. His eyes tracked the movement, lingering on her bottom lip as she released it from her teeth with a pop.

“Call me insane but for you, I was made, I’d burn the world down if it’d make you feel safe,”

The fire in Azriel’s eyes blazed as he took one step toward her, and another, and another, closer and closer. The upper hand that Y/N had held up until now had slipped, yielding step after step backward, her control completely faltering. She had always known that doing this with Azriel would likely create some… tension between the two of them, and he must have known, but Cauldron, this was unlike anything she had ever expected. Azriel was so close that she felt his body heat, felt her face warming, likely for everyone to see under the harsh glare of the spotlights.

“It’s you that I crave, and nothing compares to your taste,”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel like Azriel meant every single word he was singing. No, he didn’t write the lyrics himself of course, but the way his eyes burned with such feeling, and… what looked to be desperation, told her there was much more to this than meets the eye. And Gods… the way his voice cracked ever so slightly with a primal need as those final words left his mouth had her praying to whatever higher powers she could to forgive her for the damning shivers he was sending straight to the very heart of that taste he craved so badly.

As the chorus rolled around once more, their voices finally blended as one, and nothing had ever sounded so right. Azriel’s shadows danced freely around the two of them, creating a tornado of darkness, of intimacy, where they were right in the eye of the storm. The song continued, and the pull between the two of them was magnetic, almost hypnotic as they completely forgot about the audience they had; their family who were most definitely gaping like fish out of water. Y/N could feel Azriel’s warm breath on her face as he sang, his angelic voice whispering less-than-angelic promises that only she could hear in the way it trembled.

Y/N honestly didn’t think that Azriel could get any closer - what she failed to consider was that the shadowsinger was in so deep that he wasn’t planning on stopping until there was absolutely no space left between them. As the song once again softened, Azriel took his chance and leaned impossibly closer, abandoning his vocals in favour of a different use of that mouth. Y/N inhaled sharply as Azriel’s lips brushed against hers, gently, experimentally. Some instinctive part of her that knew this was right pushed her forward to press her lips a little harsher against his, earning a shiver from the shadowsinger. She heard a soft rustle coming from behind him as his wings twitched from the anticipation.

As he pulled away, Azriel heard a shaky exhale escape her lips, caused only by the feeling of him, the heat of two bodies pressed close together, the rush of meeting the lips of the person who, deep down, you know is made for you. Your partner. Your mate. That shiver he elicited from Y/N was the final straw - the last thing he needed to cement his plans for the night. His face still inches from hers, he whispered with a voice so low he wasn’t sure it had even come from him, “You’re mine tonight.”

One moment, the IC were watching dumbfounded at the scene playing out in front of them, some wondering if they really should be averting their eyes (apart from Cassian, who sat with a shit-eating grin on his face). The next moment, the stage was empty, a whisper of shadows the only thing left standing in their wake. Azriel had disappeared in a flash, winnowed to who knows where, taking Y/N with him.

“Goddamn, Az,” Rhys chuckled into his drink after a beat of shocked silence. “Nicely done.”

“No! But they didn’t even finish their song!” Cassian pouted, gesturing wildly at the empty stage as the music still played from the speakers.

“Somehow I don’t think that’s their priority right now, Cass,” Mor giggled, practically vibrating from excitement and pride, exploding with glee at what had taken place since her little pep talk earlier.

Rhys set his glass down on the table in favour of throwing an arm over the top of Feyre’s chair. “It’s about time those two did something about the obvious, right?”

As Feyre’s eyes sparkled with delight for her twin, she giggled at his words, overjoyed at the knowledge that Y/N may at last feel the happiness of having a mate. A partner for all eternity.  “Yeah… finally.”

[christeareads]

Myriam was WILD for a) having the IDEA that he should seduce Clythia and b) using that against him...like...girl,why are you mad?

Him being the most obvious double agent and everyone going " WHAAAAAAT" as if their whole personality isn't "oh we have to wear masks so people believe we're evil but we're actually soooo good(they're not)"

Also, if Mor doesn't like someone, they instantly become one of my faves. Like, he said you two used to be friends and not only do you call him odious but also believe the worst of him?

"He only talked about himself" Bestie, what have you and your family been doing every 5 pages? The difference is you're all talk and no action. Court of dreams- you're the government.

Bonus: I need Jurian to spill the tea and explain what he meant with " You were always such a liar, Morrigan "

I was going through Acowar because I'm making a summery PowerPoint for friends and I'm just like why the fuck do we not like Jurian again?

When I first read this book, this is what I thought. Feyre has animosity towards him, granted she thinks he is working for Hybern and he's crazy from being resurrected. But to me he quickly showed that he is not crazy and that he is obviously a double agent. Like why would anyone think this man is 100% on Hybern's side? The side that fought to enslave his people. And then when it's revealed everyone is like, WhAT!? And I'm like, "yeah no shit. Hybern stands for the opposite of what he stands for." And then they still don't really like him we aren't given much of a reason. And then Miriam and Drakan really wanted to kill him and I'm like, "wow what terrible thing did he do?" Because he says he wants to apologize to Drakan and Miriam and I'm like, "WHAT DID HE DO?" If it's the fact that he seduced and tortured a slaver, you people are weird.

So during this reread, was like wait why do Miriam and Drakan not like him? so I looked on the wiki and according to them Miriam broke up with him because he changed for the worst after the whole Clythia thing. Which ok fair but she agreed to the plan? Like what he did was so horrendous she couldn't be with him? Babe it's war and she was a slaver. And then Mor mentions he was full of himself, arrogant, and odious. Oh really I can think a certain High Lord that's like that. You know the one who constantly claim he is the most powerful High Lord, meanwhile the narrative never really shows it.

[feyresdaughter]

A Court of Wings and Ruin, chapter 49:

Viviane had embraced Mor tightly— then me, to my surprise.

Awww, we like Viviane on this blog

“I’ll tell her myself the next time I see her.” It seemed like more of a promise— that Varian would see Amren again , war or no. Then they were gone.

Varian is in loooove

I said, watching the space where my friends had vanished from the town house, “I need you to understand, Elain, that if this goes badly … if he tries to harm you, or any of us …” - “I know. You will defend your own.” - “I will defend you.”

Welcome to epise 6300737 why Feyre is the best sister

“There is a creature beneath the library. Do you know it?” Amren shut the Book. “Its name is Bryaxis.” - “What is it.” - “You do not want to know, girl.” I shoved back the arm of my ebony dress, the finery so at odds with the loft, its messiness. “I made a bargain with it.” I showed her the band of tattoo around my forearm. “So I suppose I do.” I didn’t bother to look pleasant. Or desperate. Or grateful. I didn’t bother to wipe the cold, hard mask from my face as I added, “You’re coming with me. Right now.”

Feyre playing the High Lady card is soooo hot

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 ☀

⤷ gender neutral & ambiguous race reader, requests are open!

Quiz: Who is your ACOTAR mate? 

⭑ Okay so being with Cassian is like stepping into a warm bath. 

⭑ That feeling of being enveloped; like a hug - yeah, that’s the feeling. 

⭑ Speaking of hugs; he gives the absolute best. It’s the closest thing to hugging an actual bear. He just grabs onto your and presses you into his chest. 

⭑ When you’re emotional and he gives you one of his hugs, you'll cry. Yeah, they’re THAT comforting

⭑  You met because your mother was making the flower arrangements for Feyre and Rhysand’s wedding. You were helping deliver them when Cassian came bounding inside, arms holding onto Nyx. 

  “Watch out for the flowers buddy, oh, hey-” Cassian smiled down at you, one of his hands wrapped around the little boy’s. 

Your breath hitched in your throat. Were you supposed to say something? What were words again? All you could do was stare and ... stare. 

⭑He takes you to the House of Wind, the cabin and the town house. 

⭑ I definitely think you would end up moving in with him, or getting a place together. 

⭑ He wanted to help decorate your home together. He said he wanted his favourite colours incoporated somehow; maroon/burgundy. 

⭑ Most decisions are made unanimously 

⭑ You always feel full when Cassian is around - like all parts of yourself are there. 

⭑ Always being with the life of the party - his excitement is infectious. You don’t realise how much he affects you until you visit your family without him. It’s like something is missing when he’s not there. 

⭑ Looking after Nyx with Cass. You guys are the ones that take him to amusement parks, museums, water parks etc. He actually had his first steps with you two but didn’t tell anyone

⭑ Knowing that you want to spend eternity with this man

⭑ Loves taking you for a fly; it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. It’s exhilirating and you can’t help but squeal and squeal 

⭑ Always visiting someone or someone always coming around. Your life is rarely boring, or quiet. 

⭑ Is your personal cheerleader

⭑ Supports you in everything 

⭑ Wants to be included in girl nights 

⭑ LOVES face masks and hair treatments

⭑ Likes it when you braid his hair, he actually finds it very useful when he trains

⭑ You’re really really good friends with Feyre, she sees you like another sister

⭑ You’re a bit intimdated by Amren, but with each interactions you seem to loosen up more and more

⭑ Mor is really interesting but she’s away a lot. During holidays you like to chit-chat with her. You do feel an underlying insecurity as she did have a one night stand with Cassian (but it was years and years ago.)

⭑ Rhysand likes to have conversations with you, because in a way he sees you as a representative of his subjects. You tell him what needs to be updated/altered in Verlaris. 

⭑ With Azriel you find it difficult to get to know him. You try your best and at times he opens up, but mostly sticks to himself. 

⭑ You know that no matter whatever happens, Cassian will always, ALWAYS HAVE YOUR BACK

⭑ Calls you all sorts of pet names; ‘sweetie pie,’ ‘pumpkin, ‘sweetcheeks.’ ‘hot stuff,’ etc.,

⭑ Cassian meeting your parents was surreal. They were awestruck by how tall he was. And also the wings; he did knock over a vase but you didn’t mind. He was super embarrassed though. 

[taylors-fourth-cat-meow]

Acowar Chp: 44 - The High Lords Meeting.

Okay this is from the chp tamlin enters because tbh I am not interested in anything before that lol

If u don't like Tamlin and love ic and feyre kindly leave now you have been forewarned.

Absolute silence. Absolute stillness.

Yeah baby that’s how you honour my king

I tried to school mine into the cold caution with which Nesta regarded him, or the vague distaste on Mor’s. I tried—and failed utterly.

Is there anything this loser doesn’t fail?

I knew his moods, his temper

What moods??!?!?! What FUCKING TEMPER BITCH??!!! See, this how tamlin is being viewed for having ugly trauma. Feyre brings up his trauma constantly. She throws tantrums and spits out rubbish without thinking how it might affect him. And when it ultimately does?? hE HaS mOoDS.

Here was the High Lord who had shredded those naga into bloody ribbons; here was the High Lord who had impaled Amarantha on Lucien’s sword and ripped out her throat with his teeth.

KING 🤌🏼🤌🏼🥵🧎🏽‍♀️

I didn’t know what to say. What to do with my body, my breathing.

Don’t worry babe you’re feminist king mate will tell you soon enough. 🙄

No more masks, no more lies and deceptions. The truth, now sprawled bare and open before him. What I’d done in my rage, the lies I’d fed him. The people and land I’d laid vulnerable to Hybern. And now that I’d returned to my family, my mate …

What in the? See? See? THIS BITCH FUCKING KNEW WHAT SHE WAS DOING??? PEOPLE I LAID VULNERABLE TO HYBERN. I. SEE THAT BITCHES?? Feyre herself is taking accountability for it? Maas herself is admitting Feyrug comitted a war crime only Feyrug is a Girlboss™️ for it. Djdjdjnsksla

Not as Tamlin surveyed the hand Rhys had resting on my sparkling knee.

How does your knee sparkle bitch? Like- are u Barbie? No what body wash are u using? Tell me don't be shy.

No, Amarantha hadn’t really known me—her loathing had been superficial, driven from a personal history that poisoned everything. Tamlin … Tamlin knew me. And now hated every inch of what I was.

SO WHY TF IS HE STILL NOT OVER THIS VANILLA COAT RACK IN THE NOVELLA?!?

“I’m not in the business of discussing our plans with enemies.”

Helion, across the reflection pool, grinned like a lion.

“No,” Tamlin said with equal ease, “you’re just in the business of fucking them.”

HOW- LIKE HOW CAN U NOT STAN THIS SAVAGE KING?!?

But whether Tamlin noticed or cared that three of the deadliest people in this room were currently contemplating his demise, he didn’t let on.

Deadliest? Bitch u kidding right? Tamlin is a high lord he cud kill your pet bats in a sec if he wanted too? And miss ma'am is sitting in a room full all the high lords and two bats who wear colourful stones and a lie dectector are the most deadliest? Like damn sjm how do u even fit all that bat dick in your throat?

Rhys shrugged, smiling faintly. “Seems a far less destructive alternative to war.”

So he can apologise to Kallias for not doing anything while children in his court were killed but can't apologise to tamlin for standing by and actually helping to put his ppl in concentration camps and torture them?!

I said quietly, “The sun was shining when I left you.”

Those green eyes slid to me, glazed and foreign. He let out a low snort, then looked away again.

Dismissal.

HOW IS HE SOOOO HAWT?!?!???????!!!!

Like idk feyre is trying to make it seem Girlboss that miss ma'am left tamlin with the guy who assualted her, who slaughtered Tamlins family and can control minds and hates tamlin, and thought to say goodbye via a letter? A letter written by an illiterate? Miss girl trying to be poetic and badass. Uk what is actually badass? "DISMISSAL" 🤌🏼🤌🏼🥵🥵🧎🏽‍♀️🤰

 “I bartered access to my lands to get back the woman I love from a sadist who plays with minds as if they are toys. I meant to fight Hybern—to find a way around the bargain I made with the king once she was back. Only Rhysand and his cabal had turned her into one of them. And she delighted in ripping open my territory for Hybern to invade. All for a petty grudge—either her own or her … master’s.”

OOFFF POP OFF MY LOVE!! YASSS "all for a petty grudge" YESS CALL OUT THAT BITCH!!

“You don’t get to rewrite the narrative,” I breathed. “You don’t get to spin this to your advantage.”

Okay this is so fcking ironic cause this statement is basically acomaf in a nutshell. I feel like one her editors told sjm this and she just used it as a 'fck u to them' lol.

“They peddle tales of defending our land and peace. And yet she came to my lands and laid them bare for Hybern. She took my High Priestess and warped her mind—after she shattered her bones for spite. And if you are asking yourself what happened to that human girl who went Under the Mountain to save us … Look to the male sitting beside her. Ask what he stands to gain—what they stand to gain from this war, or lack of it. Would we fight Hybern, only to find ourselves with a Queen and King of Prythian? She’s proved her ambition—and you saw how he was more than happy to serve Amarantha to remain unscathed.”

YES BABY!! He is legit the only character that calls these ppl out on their bs? Istg Tamlin is the most sensible person in this series. Like my man's talking business. He is literally the only one smart enough to notice Rhysie Gaslighting? He's is literally pointing out on a silver platter that RHYSAND IS FCKING MANIPULATING FEYRE and yet she doesn't understand lmao

Rhys let out a dark laugh. “Well played, Tamlin. You’re learning.”

See? This what they do? The second tamlin brings out valid points and starts calling them out they start condescending him? Exactly how women have faced this all these years. The second they take a stand they are labelled crazy.

Kallias’s eyes flared like blue flame. “You stood beside her throne while the order was given.”

I watched, stomach twisting, as Rhys’s golden skin paled. “I tried to stop it.”

So we are just going to go ahead and forget that fact in Acotar it was Rhysie the who killed the kids? Really?

Rhys’s mouth tightened. “There is not one day that passes when I don’t remember it,” he said to Kallias, to Viviane. To their companions. “Not one day.”

Says the guy who wanted to fck his mate in safe place of SA survivors.

Not … what he might have been forced to witness, too. Forced to endure, bound and trapped.

And standing by, leashed to Amarantha, while she ordered the murder of those children—

Okay u have no fcking idea how MAD this makes me!! Two dozen children died? Their parents lost their children?! And somehow the man who stood by and did nothing is the victim? What like what?!?!??!

“I believe you.”

“Says the woman,” Beron countered, “who gave an innocent girl’s name in her stead—for Amarantha to butcher as well.”

Yes old creepy guy call her out! See the ppl who actually do call her out and just deemed irredeemable villians who just talk shit about Feyrug just cause they are evil.

I blocked out the words, the memory of Clare.

I- what that's it? That's it?!?? Beron just rightfully called her out on causing Clare's death and she just "blocks out the memory" wtf?!

“Who knew,” Beron mused, “that a cock could be so persuasive?”

Pls 💀

“Stories and words,” Tamlin said, lounging in his chair. “Is there any proof?”

YES ANSWER HIM U LITTLE BITCH

“No,” Rhys cut in as Mor blocked Cassian with an arm, forcing him to sit. Rhys added to Kallias, “But I swear it—upon my mate’s life.” His hand at last rested atop mine.

Not good enough for me bitch

Tamlin rolled his eyes

I literally loosing my shit like how is this "your hair is...clean" man literally roasting these bitches. My man really said break up = glow up 🤌🏼🤌🏼🥵

“I once told you I would fight against tyranny, against that sort of evil. Did you think you were enough to turn me from that?” His teeth shone white as bone. “It was so easy for you to call me a monster, despite all I did for you, for your family.” A sneer toward Nesta, who was frowning with distaste. 

YES YES YES DRAG HER BABE!! Like he is do right!!! Tamlin did do A LOT for those two ungrateful idiots. They were starving and poor even when feyre was hunting. What tamlin did WAS NOT THE BARE FUCKING MINIMUM. Uk what wud be bare minimum? Giving them a piece of meat and bread every two weeks because that was literally what feyre was providing them. Idk I kinda hate Nesta here. Distaste? Girl u shud thanking him on your knees.

“Yet you witnessed all that he did Under the Mountain, and still spread your legs for him. Fitting, I suppose. He whored for Amarantha for decades. Why shouldn’t you be his whore in return?”

Yes. I said this before too? Tamlin is LITERALLY the only one to point out that their relationship is based on SA!??! And uk... Like idk what I said before. But this isn't slut shaming to me. Nope it isn't. Srry. He is harsh and he gets to be that after what Feyrug did to him but he's rightfully pointing out the truth.

“Watch your mouth,” Mor snapped. I was having difficulty swallowing—breathing.

Tamlin ignored her wholly and waved a hand toward Rhysand’s wings. “I sometimes forget—what you are. Have the masks come off now, or is this another ploy?”

How- how do u hate a person like this? Like can I just say if tamlin was a female in this relationship and Feyrug the male let's see how many not call feyrug abusive and cheer tamlin on.

“You’d be all too happy for war, considering how well you made out in the last one.”

(Tamlin to Helion)

Wait a damn minute. Which war is this? Is he talking about the humans war? DOES HE KNOW ABOUT THE AFFAIR???! like what is the fcking context?! Djdjdjsksksm

Okayyy this is all for now. There's more about Tamlin nd hybern but I made a seperate post altogether about it so no point in discussing. The rest of the chp is boring and too much...even for me. Hope u liked it!!

[eliaofdxrne]

since returning from the westerlands, there had been precious little on the lips of all in sunspear but war, and elia was sick of it, sick of the looming threat of new valyria, and its marcher lords, and the endless, mind-numbing preparation that seemed to come with it. she despised it, and despised the woman who had led them here. sunspear had not been a particularly comfortable place for elia for a long time, but it had been safe. it didn't feel such any longer.

and for the first time since mors had died, she was not the only one of her siblings in sunspear. yet that provided little comfort. her frustration was a thorn, embedded too deeply into elia's side to pull out, but she did not think ravi felt it, too. from the little she had seen of him since his return from braavos, he didn't. her brother was essentially a stranger to her, someone she did not know well enough to trust, so when ravi called her name, her head turned, the light from the stained glass reflecting in the gold pins woven through her hair, and she smiled, masking her anger and bitterness under an expression that belonged on the face of a girl who believed herself to be the most blessed in the world.

but then it wavered, fracturing for a second and allowing her surprise to creep through. only for a moment, before it was back up again, smile brighter than ever. it was his apology that caught her off-guard. she had not anticipated it - nobody had ever apologised to elia for lack of attention. ringed fingers clasped together in front of her, and she raised her right shoulder in a half-shrug. "there's nothing to apologise for," she assured him, though she wasn't entirely sure that was true. "you've been needed elsewhere, after all."

in truth, she could not help but wonder if it was too late, if time and distance had ensured that all the check ins in the world would ever shift the balance from strangers to siblings. she supposed only more time would tell. "but it is nice," her voice was light and sweet, but her gaze had drifted, as though she was admiring the window pane, rather than look him in the eye. "that you're here now, i mean. especially if the regent will see you off to war soon." she was doing it now, looping the conversation back to the only thing that seemed to matter to anybody these days. she supposed it was catching.

setting: dorne, after they depart the west back home, tensions are high with new valyria and the marches ; starter for @eliaofdxrne

context: the two siblings have never been particularly close, given elia's feel displaced for a while, and ravi having been in braavos, not very involved under mors' rule.

the second son of sunspear had not often rattled his thoughts aloud, for if he did now, it would likely fill novels and novels to be set upon a shelf. it were strategic, all that had occurred, from the moment that the arrow pierced the former queen of the seven kingdoms, to now, it had all been carefully planned. though in truth, none could truly plan for war. ravi knew the marcher lords would rise up further, but he wondered if their dragon king would come to their defense, given the tensions between the stormlords and valyrians.

he were set to depart for the marches again, to lead and fight alongside his fellow dornishmen. having been trained by the sword of the morning himself, ravi would not easily back down from a fight, and knew his hand was needed in things. eyes scanned the floor, light from stained glass windows casting rays of colors upon marbled halls. he only glanced up to see his sister walking in his direction, too.

ravi offered a small smile, placing his hands behind his back as he stopped, giving a nod of his head. "elia." he stated kindly, neutrally. in truth, he wasn't quite sure how to connect with his youngest sister. the years seemed to be taken from them in their youth, as they did not really grow around each other for long. now? now mors was dead, and ravi thought it important for them to reunite, but how? what was she like? what were her interests? "i'm sorry i've not gotten to speak to you much. i'm sure you understand things have taken my attention, but that is no excuse to not check in on my sister."

[timextoxhajima]

ok dana, hear me out but spiderman!juyeon djsjd i can't get that thought out of my brain so if you like this idea, i trust you 100% so please write whatever your heart desires <3

also congratulations on hitting 700 !!! <3

꘩ title: it's on again

꘩ member: tbz juyeon

꘩ genre: spiderman! ju x spiderwoman! reader [ᵒᵏ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵘᵖᶦᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶦᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗ ᵃ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᶜ ᵃˢ ᶠᵃʳ ᵃˢ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵍʷᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃᶜʸ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᶦᵈᵉʳʷᵒᵐᵃⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵉˣᶦˢᵗᵉᵈ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵘⁿᶦᵛᵉʳˢᵉ ᵃˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵖᵉᵗᵉʳ ᵖᵃʳᵏᵉʳ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᶜᵗᶦᵛᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᶦᵈᵉʳᵐᵃⁿ] fluff, angst, action, a little bit of e2l

꘩ warnings: mentions of blood, some violence, swearing

꘩ wc: 2.65k

꘩ a/n: I'm a marvel stan so i kinda know some shit but imma try to make this as original as i can ok // i used to write action fics (yeah wtf right HAHAHAHHA) and if you watch the spiderman movies (and i mean all 3 versions in the cinematic universe, I'm guessing you should know where the track's from. and if you don't, it's probably my favourite track from ANY marvel movie so i hope you can check it out)

the siren. it's loud in your ears but you look down and nobody past the surrounding few blocks reacts to it. first, the lights in some apartments flicker on, and someone appears at their window, looking down at the jewellery store that's just been broken into.

kind of stupid, you think. not many would rob a jewellery store nowadays they wouldn't get much out of it unless they planned every single move carefully.

"hurry the fuck up. i want to be out of here with it in 2 minutes."

it?

sucking in a deep breath and pulling the elastic hood over your head, you free-fall off the edge of the roof.

your stomach feels like it's being pushed upwards and your lungs empty when you aim your wrist upwards into the opposite block, the sudden yank of the web keeping you from falling flat into the asphalt below.

swing once, then you let go and land with your centre of gravity low to the floor, fingers pressed against the unevenness of the road. the dead night has resulted in a lack of traffic, so you stand right across the jewellery store, in plain sight, eyes on the group of men inside.

calmly strolling across the road, you casually push the door open, and the alarm blares again, causing you to flinch a little.

"what the-!"

"okay, okay, don't shoot," you raise your hands in the air, holding still as multiple guns take aim at you. "so, what is it you're looking for?"

the four men have their gloved hands tight around their guns. all four masked, but you can see the whites in their eyes - that how wide they were open.

"it's the girl one."

"i thought you'd be able to tell from the suit," you look down at yourself, pleased with the black, white and purple suit. "pretty, right?"

"shut up!" their guns tremble in their hands. "why don't you fuck off and maybe we won't kill you, spidergirl?"

footsteps.

"i go more by `spiderwoman'," you grimace to yourself (which was pretty funny since they can't see shit). "and yeah, no, i can't do that. you gotta at least tell me what you're looking for before i-"

someone is standing behind-

"one more word and i'll blow your brains out, spiderwoman."

a barrel is pressed into your temple. shutting your eyes under your mask, you smile to yourself.

"fucking continue searching! we have two minutes before the police show up!"

with that, the four men within your sight chuck their guns back under their pants and thrash through the stands and drawers, flinging every object to the ground in a bid to uproot the entire store.

"so... what is it you're looking for?" the barrel jabs into your temple, and the man behind walks around to your front. "it's like, the second time i've asked that. your men didn't tell me."

"do you always talk this much?"

"well- yeah. it helps me distract you."

your left arm pushes away his outstretched arm with the gun, and you twist it downwards before slamming your foot into his hand, catching a glimpse of the tattoo on his forearm. the shout that runs out his throat sounds more like a child's than what he had been talking in.

picking up the gun, you hurl it into one of the four men who's just gotten his out of the belt of his pants, and with a thud it knocks into his forehead.

the sharp gunshots sound slower in your head when you're paying attention, so you dodge the three incoming ones by dropping to the ground and rolling behind the man with the broken hand. picking him up by his pants and arm, you fling the heavyweight into two of the remaining men, who end up crashing into a glass, display cabinet.

the last one though, has his gun aimed straight at you. over the groans and painful moans of the ones on the floor, you're slowly walking in one direction, stepping into all the glass pieces on the floor.

crunch. 

gunshot. 

your eyes widen when you realise the sound of the glass had distracted you before he pulled the trigger.

but you're abruptly yanked out of the store by a familiar force of motion (you haven't been on the other end of a web-string before) through the glass window behind you, and the gunshot slices itself through something organic.

the unevenness of the asphalt greet you again through your mask and your suit, and you look behind you to see the one that everybody knows better than you.

the red latex around his arm has split open, replaced with a dark shade of thicker, liquid red where the bullet had cut through his skin.

"i think you were distracted by the glass," he says, hissing under his breath, glancing down at his wound.

"i had it," you pull yourself to your feet, listening to the metallic creak as he hops off the roof of the car and trudge to the store where the last man was visibly more scared.

"you could've been shot," he calls back, hopping over the height of the concrete and through the display window.

gunshot. 

gunshot.

gunshot. 

web-string.

the gun drops to the ground and spiderman has the man taped to the ceiling with a thick layer of web.

"care to come in and help me?" shooting a web down at the man with the broken hand, spiderman tapes his arm down to the floor before he can reach the gun.

sighing, you hear the sirens first, before turning back and searching for the bullet that had gone through his flesh first.

by the time you've got all five men tied up with web strings and taped to a wall or a ceiling at least five feet apart, four police cars have showed up outside. the sirens were flashing their bright red and blue lights through the store, and it's kind of annoying, to be honest.

"it's a surprise to see the both of you in one location," one of the officers that you've met before comes up to you.

"just wanted to make sure nobody gets hurt," spiderman turns to look at you, and through the mask you can already see his stupid, kindred smile.

"but you did," the officer nods to his wound. "need some first aid? we got paramedics on the way."

"it's fine, it'll heal up in a week," he shrugs it off. "i think she broke someone's hand though!'

"he had a gun to my face. he should be glad he's alive.'

"well, they all should be," the officer nods in agreement. "i know I'm a law enforcement officer but sometimes i wish we didn't have to pay taxes to keep these idiots alive in jail."

the ambulance shows up, and the now-crowded street was filled with both citizens and reporters. lights begin to go off when they catch a glimpse of the town's two superheroes in one spot, shouting both yours and spiderman's nicknames.

"well, I'm going off first," pointing back over his shoulder as he walks backwards and away from the crowd, spiderman announces. "you coming with?"

turning to look at the officer, you nod as a gesture of thanks. spiderman first flies off the road when he shoots a web-string at one of the buildings, and you jog off into the air as yours pulls you off the ground.

carefully placing the flat end of the bullet on juyeon's desk, your vision soaks in the sight of his blood on the pointed tip.

"why- get that off my table!" he yelps, sweeping it off the surface of the food and staring at it with a look of disgust on his face. "i totally forgot about this."

"yeah, so the police can find it and they can track your dna and possibly kidnap you for experimenting."

“that’s easy,” juyeon pulls his wardrobe open and yanks off his mask, forcing his hair into a mess. “just give them the name of that spider at the science lab.”

“then they’ll make more of those and guess what’s gonna happen when the worst people get the hold of them?” pulling off yours, juyeon strolls into his attached toilet and the latex snaps against his skin while he struggles to get out of it. 

“do you need help?” 

“...no!” snap. “don’t think so!”

“okay, when you’re done playing rubber-band with your suit, can you come out and i’ll help you dress your wound?” his cabinets are in a mess when you yank them open. all these books and files from his modules and yet not one first aid kit? “sir, where in the world is your first aid kit?”

“first aid kit? i don’t need those.”

“oh, fuck’s sake,” slamming the doors of the cabinets shut, you slip on your mask again. “you better be bathed and washed when i’m back.”

“what?” he calls from the bathroom, then sticks his head out through the doorframe. his shoulders are slightly exposed and his hair’s a mess like it should be. “where are you going?”

“home. to bathe. and to get you a fucking first aid kit,” sitting by the window ledge, you ramble over your shoulder and at him. “just ‘cause your dumbass can heal fast, doesn’t mean you’re invincible.”

juyeon blinks at you, unsure of how to respond, before you push yourself over the ledge and swing your way down into the nearest pharmacy store. 

the night’s deeper when you leave your room for the second time that night. even fewer cars, fewer lights in apartments turned on. lesser life. your ears aren’t picking up any anomaly than the chirping of crickets and the occasional beeping of traffic lights down the road.

but this is your favourite part of it all. you pull on another mask (that looks identical - you have more than one set of suits) and swing yourself out of the window.

juyeon’s in his bed, awkwardly trying to clean his wound with a piece of cloth that’s too red for his own good. 

“what did you do, stab yourself in your wound?” with the plastic bag shoved into the huge pocket of your oversized hoodie, you yank it out and search for the ointment and bandage. “you’re bleeding too much.”

“i was bathing and then- and then i tried- stretching my arm to see how bad it is-”

“for a superhero, you’re kind of a fucking idiot, y’know,” the plastic crinkles when you set it down, dragging a chair over to him by his bed and slapping his hand away. 

“i just wanted to see how bad it was,” juyeon hands you the bloody cloth, pulling up his sleeve and holding it in place as you tend to his injury. “be gentle please- ow!”

“sorry,” you glance at him with wary eyes, gently dabbing on his wound with the ointment. 

the crickets outside are loud tonight, and for a split second, you wish you could remove this enhanced-hearing ability. but you wouldn’t have heard this if you didn’t have it.

“the crickets are loud tonight,” juyeon winces, watching the bleeding stop as the ointment color begins to stick to his skin. “the robbers you took down today. they’re part of a bigger group working to find pieces of jewellery scattered around the city.”

“how’d you know that?” giving his wound a tight press with the ointment-covered gauze, his facials crunch up from the pain. 

“the tattoo on the guy’s arm. the one whose hand you broke.”

“oh,” you pull away, dumping the gauze into his trash can by the window. “you’ve met them before then, i suppose?”

“yeah, two weeks ago. i was studying downtown with a friend who left early and i was heading back here when i saw a couple of guys ready to disable the alarm system. the police have identified the group, so they’re working on tracking them down.”

“two weeks ago? wasn’t that the one where you saved a girl?”

juyeon’s eyes halve into crescents as you tape down the end of the bandage.

“yeah, it was,” he grins widely, watching you stand and return the bandage roll back into the plastic bag. “i didn’t know you keep up with me.”

“i couldn’t not keep up even if i didn’t want to. you’re everywhere.”

“so are you, though.”

shoving the bag into one of the cabinets, you shut it with some angst and dissatisfaction.

“have you seen the number of times your face has appeared versus mine?” you cross your arms across your chest and raise a brow. 

“yes,” juyeon nods, turning to rest his feet on the ground and his arms by the sides of his hips. “and it’s a good number of times your face appears.”

“if mine’s a good number then yours is... over the moon.”

silence. you look at him in the eye and his smile slowly disappears into a look of contemplation. your attention zooms in on the bandage around his upper arm, and you suddenly remember the feeling of the web-string pulling you out of the store. sure, you crashed your spine through a whole glass sheet, but you would’ve been shot dead had juyeon not showed up.

your eyes dart back up to his face and he’s got a strange look in his eyes. his pupils are bright and shiny despite all the action that’s gone down, and you wonder for a moment how he had been able to do this for the 3 months he was the only hero in town.

“what are you thinking about?” juyeon pushes himself off the mattress as he rolls down his sleeve to hide the bandage.

clearing your throat, you break the eye contact first. “nothing. anyway, there are plasters, emergency painkillers and a stitching kit, and the ointment and bandage in the plastic bag i got, so-” toes pointed towards the window where you’re plotting your quick escape, juyeon holds out an arm to stop you in your tracks. 

“wait, y/n,” then he shifts between you and the window with his body. “i... i know you can handle yourself, and-”

“if this is an attempt of mockery or a way of getting me to say ‘thank you’ for saving my life just now-”

“no!” his eyes widen twice their original sizes, palms flying into the air to physically deny the accusation. “no, no. i just- well, it’s nice to have someone else i can count on to... be a hero. so... i just don’t want you to get hurt.”

you can hear his heart thunking in his chest now. it’s too fast. 

or was that yours?

“your heart’s racing,” he whispers.

“i won’t get hurt, i promise. i’ll be more careful next time.”

“y/n, i’m serious. or- or call me, whenever you’re about to bust a criminal or something.”

“i’ll call you when i need help, okay?” trying to curve him, he unexpectedly uses some fraction of his fast reflexes to block your way once more.

“no, please call me whenever you’re about to throw yourself out your window or free-fall from a building.”

looking up at him, his lips are pursed into an anxious, thin line. it’s not a usual sight. you have been working opposite one another for almost a year now, so for him it’s been a little more than that and the fear in his face is almost excruciating to digest.

“i’ll try.”

he frowns, rejecting the idea for a moment, but then it disappears. he nods.

“okay.”

“can i go home now?” 

an awkward pause.

“do you want to stay over?”

now, the frown befalls your face.

thunkthunkthunkthunkthunk

“that’s definitely not my heart, juyeon.”

“yeah, i know, i know,” he gulps, and you hear it loud and clear as he grimaces, looking away while rubbing the back of his neck. 

what’s with his nervousne-

“it’s mine.”

[liyazaki]

Would you share your thoughts on mask girl please?? Your gifset got me suuper interested🙈

NICE- I was hoping I'd snag some people with the sapphic lure:

Mask Girl is, in a word- visceral.

I'm talking a pull no punches (except for ones thrown at douchebags), take no prisoners (except for- nvm) rollercoaster that you don't realize you're on until oops- you watched all 7 episodes.

BLs/QLs have a tendency to be so formulaic, it was a breath of fresh air to have no idea where a show was taking me. every detail matters, there's zero filler present & if you blink, you might miss something crucial.

it's also in an interesting format: each episode (except the last one) is dedicated to one character who's pivotal to the story. there's a lot of "oh wait- so THAT'S what that meant" moments, which is really satisfying as a viewer.

the only other thing I'll say beyond a biiiiig content warning (for SA, DV, CA, SH, gore, murder, generally very dark themes- all of it crucial to the story & not gratuitous, imo) is this: you're going to watch the trailer & think you're getting one thing, but buckle up: you ain't seen nothing yet 🎭

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Request: What about an s/o with overhaul that went out and basically got found by toga to steal her blood and pretend to be her to infiltrate the hissekai base and overhaul believed it a little at first then because of like one single thing he just knows its someone else? You dont need to do this

"You take care of her or else I'm ripping your heart out of your chest and sticking it into your ass." He growled and for once Rappa shivered at the threat of Overhaul as you snorted.

"Don't take his words seriously." You giggled kissing his covered cheek... not noticing the fire on your boyfriend eyes and the threat he made by overhauling his glove.

"Jesus fucking Christ I GET IT!" Rappa raised his hands up as you laughed, getting out of the house as Chisaki crossed his arms.

The only bad thing about the work on the yakusa was that he couldn't always afford time to be or to even get out with you, but when you needed a bit of space he sended one of his most trusted subbordinates to out along with you.

None of them were able to so it had to be Rappa this time.

He watched as you and that filth get out with a sigh, walking back to his office and just anatacipating your arrival.

.

.

.

He bounced his leg, work forgotten and put aside for him to finish up later as he in each five minutes at the clock... you were late.

This was never a good sign. You being late wasn't never a good sign. You knew about how he was pontual dammit.

The door opening mad ehis heart jump a bit but his face remained stoic as ever as listened to Rappa's voice. If he wasn't panicking then it must meant you were safe and sound...

"Here. All (your weight) delivered. You own me a match." Rappa said as Chisaki only gave him the look that could scare even fucking all Might "Geez. When it involves your girl you have the guts dont you? See ya around (Y/n)."

"Bye~" you giggled while twirling your fingers at the man, an action that made Chisaki to arch one of his eyebrows up.

"Care to explain?" He said nonchantly as you looked at him with a smile, walking towards him "You're late." He hissed.

"Ahh someone missed me~?" your hands went to hold onto his arms and he let out a confused sound when he felt the hives starting to appear... never on his relationship with you of 3 whole years.

He slapped your hand away by instinct and you laughed.

"Okay, okay! I will go to sleep then!" You walked past him giving him a wink over your shoulder "Good night my dear Overhaul~"

In one motion he grabbed your wrist harshly and twirled you around to grab on your throat and hit your back on the wall, making you cry out and whimper.

"Y-you're scaring m-me honey, please let go!" You squirmed n his grip as his gloves slowly started to dissapear as he narrowed hsi eyes down at you.

"Quit the games. You're not my (Y/N)." He growled, watching drops of tears roll down your cheeks as you sniffed.

"H-How can you say that?" You whimpered as he applied mor epressure on your throat.

"(Y/n) would refer me as Overhaul. And the way you talk and walk cant even be compared to her." He growled, narrowing his eyes at when your figurine widened your eyes before starting to cackle, a goo started to melt your face away while laughing and showing the face he wanted so desperately to punch if it wasn't important.

"So you two are that close?" The girl smiled sadically before grunting when he applied more pressure on her throat.

"Where. Is. She? I know your quirk you psyco brat, you hurted her?!" He shouted as the blonde started to cackled before looking at him dead in the eye while licking her lips as your face faded away.

"Maybe~?? Her blood is tasty though.. you should taste it." His right eye twitched before throwing her on the wall as the others came to notice the startled.

"You-!" He pointed at Rappa before overhauling him out of no where and only putting him back to normal as he lifted the poor man by the hem of his shirt out of the ground "I WARNED YOU! KEEP. AN EYE. ON MY GIRLFRIEND!"

He let go of him and run towards the secret place he had constructed. Shouting at the other to keep an eye on Toga as he ran on the corridors.

"H..Help.." he widened his eyes at the sound of your voice and shouted your name, following your voice and quickened his run and widened his eyes at seing you throw at the floor.

But as soon as he crouched down to pick you up he heard more and more of your voices... each one of them coming from different places and each version of you looked injuries and talked about how the other wasn't you.

"Twice..." he growled under his breath before slapping his hand on the ground, damaging all the replicas of you enough to fade away, even the one whose was close to him.

He got up and looked around in a panic yet collected state until he heard Twice's voice and barged a room, deadpan expression as the man shouted as Chisaki got closer and closer to him, jaw clenched as he extended one of his fingers out at the masked man.

"Tell me where is (Y/n). And I will think about it how I wont make you a second version of Rappa or transform you into a garbage can..." his fingers were mere inches away from Twice's face as the man himself shaked his hands in front of him.

"TRUST ME THEY ARE OKAY! That bitch suffered lots!" Chisaki deadpanned at the man's words before he listened to a faint call.

"K..Kai?" He widened his eyes at the closet and made a cage out of concret to prevent Twice to get out and opened the door to see you, coughing and with a serious cut on your forehead and dropping onto his arms.

"Angel.." he sighed shakily, holding you protectively on his arms as he used his quirk to repairs the damaged and cutted skin as you winced "Forgive me..."

"Aweee that's such a sweet encounter! Ugh that's gross get a FUCKING ROOM!" Chisaki looked over his shoulder with wide and threatening eyes at Bubaigara before he felt a sweet hand, one that didn't formed hives on him, touching his own.

"Leave it... is not their fault." You whispered softly as Kai looked at you like you were crazy.

"You cant actually be serious-"

"Hon you killed a teammate of his. Even is she did attacked you first they were hurt... leave it like that or else it will cost you the problem..." you mumbled on his chest as he scoffed, picking you up like bridal style and walking out of the room, touching with only one finger to free Twice as his subbordinates lead Toga to stay along with him.

"If I were you both I would kiss my girlfriend feet. Because she is sthe inly thing that kept you both alive for now..." he narrowed his eyes, Toga only blinking as Twice yelped "If you ever dare to touch her again, I will make sure that neither of you have hands anymore." He growled before walking out of the place as Toga made a thoughtful expression as Twice looked at her with confusion.

"Thinking about what Toga-chan?"

Her thoughtful expression soon transformed into a pisco one, eyes squinted as her smile almost seemed of like one of those creepy dolls.

"No hands huh? Tomura-kun will like the idea.." she giggled before picking her cellphone...

[sayosdreams]

Of Bookshelves, Popcorn & Texts - (Nessian AU)

Word Count: 2579

ACOTAR Masterlist

__________

A/N: based on the dialogue prompt “Hey. Look at me.” that I found online

Ding!

Nesta reached for her phone, only to find that it void of new notifications.

Nesta scoffed at her own arrogance — had she really believed that someone would text her at this time of the night, on a weekend?

The sound must have come from her boyfriend’s phone, which was lying face-down on the table. Said boyfriend was currently getting a cup of water from the kitchen.

Nesta and Cassian had been dating for about a year now. They’d met about two years ago at a bookstore, when Cassian had seen Nesta attempting to reach for a book from a high shelf and had retrieved it for her. He’d flirted with her relentlessly for the next year and despite her cool demeanor, he’d eventually worn her down. Well, at least, that was the way they told the story — really, Nesta had been attracted to Cassian since the first time they met (I mean, handsome stranger in a bookshop what helps you? Is that not the dream?) but she had been reluctant to start dating due to her abusive ex. Cassian had patiently gotten to know her and let her take things slowly before officially starting to date.

“Hey,” Cassian said, startling Nesta out of her thoughts. He kissed her forehead, settled onto the couch and checked his phone for a few seconds before placing it back on the table, face-up this time. He wrapped an arm around Nesta’s shoulders and she placed her head in the crook of his neck as her hand pressed the button on the remote, unpausing the movie.

The movie was a silly rom-com that Nesta would never in a million years admit to liking (although she didn’t hate it in the slightest) and Cassian would openly declare he adored (which people often thought was sarcasm as it didn’t match the stereotype they associated with muscular personal trainers like Cassian).

The movie ended an hour later and Cassian got up to use the bathroom.

Nesta rolled her shoulders, stretched, and reached across the table for the half-empty bowl of popcorn. Just then, a ding! resounded and Cassian’s screen lit up.

Nesta hesitated. She had never been the type of girl to snoop through her boyfriend’s stuff. She would feel violated if Cassian tried to look through her messages and notifications and therefore accorded him the same respect.

But the phone dinged again, twice, and it was right in Nesta’s line of sight… What if there was some type of emergency?

She decided to just take one little glance at the screen and leave it alone if it was unimportant.

There were 3 texts, all from the same person — someone saved as Mor in his phone.

The messages said:

Hey Cass

I had so much fun w u last week <3

Wanna get drinks again soon?

Nesta quickly looked away. A million questions swirled around in her brain. Who was Mor? Was Nesta making too big a deal out of this? Maybe she was just a colleague or something?

Yet a voice nagged, If she’s just a colleague, why is she sending him hearts? Why is she calling him Cass?

Nesta didn’t want to be the girl who accused her boyfriend of cheating without any reason, but she also didn’t want to be the stupid naive girl who trusted her boyfriend while he went behind her back.

Cassian was kind, funny, loving and loyal (well, she was slightly doubting that last one now). He was almost always smiling and took on the job of brightening up the room, even when he was having a tough day. It was only after you got to know him very well that he’d take down his walls and let you see the hurt, the pain, the anger, the sadness and the brokenness he usually hid. Nesta was the same and yet the opposite: she seemed cold and unfeeling, until she let you see past her mask to all the intense joy and pain she felt.

She and Cassian had opened up to each other over the course of their relationship. Recently, however, both of them had gotten extremely busy with work — which was why they’d decided to stay in and watch movies this weekend rather than spend time with their friends.

The sofa shifted as Cassian plopped onto the couch. Nesta wondered if she should say anything and what exactly she could say that would make her sound like a mildly concerned, curious adult rather than a clingy, snooping girlfriend.

“Did you pick out another movie yet?” Cassian asked, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl.

His tone was so light and he seemed so carefree… Really, they were having such a nice evening. There was no need to ruin this with petty insecurities over a colleague or friend Cassian had caught up with once.

Still, she looked at Cassian from the corner of her eye as he tapped his phone. He didn’t have a smile or anything as he replied to the text, which was probably a good sign — in fact he seemed rather bored, until he locked his phone and turned to her, at which point his face lit up. It was a phenomenon that never ceased to delight her, even now as she wondered whether it was an act.

“How about Legally Blonde?” she suggested with a small smile. It was one of the movies they’d seen countless times even though they never told anybody else. At this point, they could mouth the words along with Reese Witherspoon if they wanted. “Or we could binge the new season of Umbrella Academy?”

“Wait, that already came out?” Cassian asked, sitting up straighter.

“Yeah, a couple weeks ago, I think. Wanna watch it?”

“Yeah, let’s go with that one.”

As Nesta snuggled against his chest, surrounded by his warmth and listening to the sound of Cassian’s heartbeat as the episode began to play, she was almost able to forget about the notifications she’d seen.

__________

Tuesday night, Nesta sat across the table from Cassian, eating the amazing Tortilla de patatas he’d made. Yes, not only did Cassian have muscles that made every man and woman green with envy and an infectious laugh, he could also cook, clean, do laundry and respect others — basically, he was the ideal man in every single way.

As if to remind her not to romanticize her boyfriend, Cassian’s phone, which he’d placed on the table next to Nesta’s, face-up in case either of them got a call from work, lit up.

Nesta was suddenly reminded of the messages she’d seen on Saturday night, and turned her head to stare at the phone while taking a long sip of her red wine.

It was another message from that person, Mor.

Can’t wait to see u friday 😘

So he had decided to have drinks with her again.

Mor might not even be a woman, Nesta told herself. Mor could be a nickname for lots of names. Mortimer. Morrison. Morty. Morgan.

The skeptical side of her scoffed, first of all no one is named Mortimer or Morrison or Morty these days. Secondly, Morgan is also a female name — a fairly common one. There’s also Morgana, Morrigan, Morena, Mora, ...  

She took another bite of her food, which was suddenly tasting a lot drier.

She was going to enjoy this dinner. So she forced herself to clear her thoughts and concentrate on what Cassian was saying about an article he’d read about electric cars.

__________

Nesta wasn’t planning on stalking him or even seeing him on Friday. She really wasn’t. Sure, she knew he was having drinks with this ‘Mor’ person, but she had no idea when or where they were meeting.

On her drive home from work, she stopped by the dry-cleaners to pick up a dress. As she parked her car, she noticed idly that the car parked in front of her had the same make and model as her boyfriend’s. Then she noticed the bumper stickers — one with the logo of Celestial Fitness, the gym where Cassian worked, and the other with a dove, his mother’s favorite animal — placed in the same exact location as on Cassian’s car. There was no doubt about it: this was most definitely his car.

Still, Nesta tried to mind her own business. She dropped off the dress and was walking back to her car when she turned her head sideways to glance at the shop windows and stopped short.

Through the window of the small, chic restaurant, she saw Cassian and a gorgeous woman. Seriously, this woman could’ve been a model or even freaking Aphrodite — she had long blond hair that fell in loose waves, generous curves accentuated by an elegant yet sexy red dress (Cassian’s favorite color), and seemed to be the perfect height where she was still shorter than Cassian (who was 6’2”) but only by a couple inches due to her heels. The type of height that would make people say aww, how cute, rather than, wow, look at the height difference. She probably wouldn’t even need to pull Cassian’s head down to kiss him.

Nesta told her feet to move, but somehow they refused. She had no idea when her feet had developed the ability to make decisions independently of her brain and decided to investigate that later. For now, she was preoccupied by Cassian and Mor’s expressions. They were both laughing and smiling — they looked so happy and delighted and carefree. When was the last time she’d seen Cassian look so unapologetically genuinely joyful? Nesta realizes with a pang that she couldn’t remember. He never laughed like that with her.

Even if he and Mor were really just friends, Nesta would still be jealous, she realized sadly. Nesta did not bring out the happy side of Cassian. It was a fact that other people had remarked upon early in their relationship. Cassian had told her that of course that wasn’t true, that just being with her made him so incredibly happy — and yet he never laughed so boundlessly with her. Was it her fault? Maybe he felt like he needed to be on eggshells around her in order to make sure he didn’t make her angry or sad or lonely or insecure.

Stop being a creepy stalker clingy girlfriend and leave, Nesta told herself.

Just then, Mor leaned over, put one hand on his arm and the other on his shoulder, and kissed Cassian’s cheek. She returned to her original position, but kept one hand firmly on Cassian’s upper arm — on his prominent biceps. They continued talking and Cassian made no attempt to remove Mor’s hand.

Nesta felt her stomach drop and she rushed back to her car.

__________

The next evening, Nesta and Cassian met up at a café near the bookstore where they’d met. It was where they’d had their first date — perhaps it was fitting that they’d have their last date there, too.

Cassian began talking about something but Nesta couldn’t focus. All she could think about was Cassian’s smile and Mor’s hand.

Suddenly, she couldn’t take it anymore. As if ripping off a bandaid, she blurted, “What did you do last night?”

She half-expected him to answer “Mor”, although she really, really didn’t want him to.

Instead, Cassian replied, “Oh, I just met up with a friend,” with a small shrug. He took a sip of his coffee.

Nesta nodded. “Did you sleep with her?”

Cassian made a choking noise. After coughing a few times, he cried hoarsely, “What?”

Part of her felt ridiculous, and yet she just had to know. She couldn’t keep ignoring her doubts and staying up at night wondering if her boyfriend, the freaking love of her life, was cheating on her. She rephrased her sentence as another question appeared in her mind. “Did you ever sleep with her? Mor?”

Cassian’s face looked so surprised that in other circumstances, she would have laughed. Cassian blinked a couple times, as if checking that he wasn’t dreaming, and then opened his mouth — and closed it again. He then opened it once more and said hesitantly, “I…”

Nesta felt like she’d been punched in the gut – no, like her heart had been ripped out of her chest and squeezed like a stress ball. “Oh.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Cassian rapidly implored, “It was a long time ago, way before I even met you. Now she’s just a friend-”

Nesta couldn’t bear to listen to him try to find excuses. “It’s ok, I get it,” she interrupted, her voice dangerously quiet.

Nesta realized, much to her embarrassment, that her eyes had filled with tears that threatened to spill over at any time. She glared at the floor, willing the water to recede, but it disobeyed her.

“Nesta?” Cassian’s voice seemed very concerned. It was most likely because Nesta was hiding her face, meaning she was hiding her emotions from Cassian, something she hadn’t done since the start of their relationship. Cassian had done everything he could to make sure Nesta felt that she could trust him and that she could feel safe around him. He needed her to know that he wouldn’t get mad at her for displaying her emotions, until her abusive ex.

There was no reason for Nesta to hide her face, unless she’d been extremely hurt by Cassian and felt he’d broken her trust.

Cassian’s voice was soft as he said, “Hey. Look at me.”

Nesta debated whether or not to do so. In the end, she decided that no matter what had happened with Mor, she owed Cassian this much. He was still the man to whom she’d given her heart, body and soul. She had shown him the most vulnerable part of herself, and he’d hugged her tight, promising that he didn’t mind if the jagged broken pieces of herself occasionally scratched him. It was not just for his sake, but also for her own — this relationship had been important, at least to her, and she owed it to whatever bond she had believed existed between them to end this in the way that it deserved instead of succumbing to her cowardice.

She lifted her face and met his eyes. Large warm tears were rolling down her face.

“Nes-”

“I love you,” she choked out, “I love you so, so much and I don’t know why- what she had that I don’t have but-”

Cassian interrupted her in an alarmed voice. “No, Nesta, please, she’s just a friend. I lov-”

Nesta raised her left hand, telling him to stop talking.

“I don’t know why,” she repeated, “but I know that I haven’t seen you laugh like that in too long. When we first started dating, everyone said I trapped you and I bogged you down. Hell, even my own sister told me that. I never thought I’d believe that— I didn’t want to believe that but… I see it now. She makes you happy. And more than anything, I want you to be happy, Cassian. That’s why,” Nesta gulped. “That’s why I’m letting you go”

“No, Nesta-” Cassian implored.

At the sound of his voice, all her attempts to stay even slightly composed melted. Tears seemed to stream down her face even faster as she let out a huge sob. Covering her mouth with her hand, she ran out the door of the café into the night.

__________

Part 2

__________

Permanent taglist: @grandma-noob-lord // @thewayshedreamed // @courtofjurdan // @maastrash // @awesomelena555 // @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter // @iammissstark // @cass-nes // @perseusannabeth // @bookstantrash // @stardelia // @b00kworm // @ghostlyrose2​

[thegoddessofliterature]

A pretty long spoiler-filled reveiw of ACOMAF

-posted this reveiw on my goodreads around June and decided to share it now on Tumblr.

Reread this gem and love it even more than the first time. Of course, reading a good book for the first time is always special and you don't know any of the plot twists and turns. Not knowing what is gonna happen in a story is my favorite thing about reading. Sarah blew me away with her captivating writing style and amazing world building that left wanting more .The is the first book that made me cry and I don't easily cry in books which just proves my love for this book. Rhysand stole my heart. I just love him so much. I know most of you probably didn't like him in the first book but once you read this one you will change your mind. You can thank me later.

Moving on, let's dive straight into spoilers, if you adored this book as much as me. Most just me gushing over our precious bat boi.

Sarah did a great job at fooling me. Just like Feyre, I was blind to the red flags that displayed the unhealthy and toxic relationship between Feylin. Upon my second read, I could clearly see all the signs and read between the lines and kept thinking "why didn't I realize this sooner?''

I really liked the lesson that the author taught us about unhealthy and healthy relationships. You usually don't see the latter in most NA or even YA. And I despise Tamlin. He is everything that I hate in a man,controlling,abusive and anti feminist. I was so pissed at him for lying to Feyre that Rhys killed his family. The tool himself, had murdered Rhys family and I will never forgive him for that

Me to Tamlin “ I hope that burn..”

I could write a whole essay on professing my love for Rhysand but even that wouldn't be enough for me.

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. He is no 1 on my fictional boyfriends list. No other male character can compare to him.

Just like Feyre, I wasn't expecting him to be the good guy. And, just as she was unaware of falling for him,I was too. I didn't even realize how attached I grew to Rhys until I got a spoiler that he was going to die. I legit got an ache in my heart and felt like crying. That's the beauty of books when a character feels real even they sadly aren't. Thankfully, he survived and if he didn't then I wouldn't have been able to forgive Sarah/

Why do I adore the Highlord of the Night Court?

He is so precious and a major feminist. He is humble and strong ( even when he has been through so much). My heart breaks for him. His story is too emotional for me to read without crying (on my second time reading). Not only did he lose his parents but his sister too. We never got to know how old she was but she was young. We never got to see his mother and baby sister. That makes my heart shatter in a million pieces but as if that wasn't enough, He didn't see his friends for 50 years. He was trapped under the mountain for so long and raped by that bitch and he endured it just to protect his city and family (the inner circle). As if he didn't have enough on his plate, he watched Feyre be taken away from him twice. He watched the girl he loved be in love with another man (his enemy who had killed his parents and sister) and yet he let her be happy (even if she was mate). After all of this torture and pain, he is still so kind and sweet and caring. He still think he isn't enough even though he sacrificed so much. He would rather put himself in torture than let something happen to Feyre or the Inner Circle.

And what I love most about him, is the freedom he gave Feyre. He isn't controlling like most men. He trusts Feyre and believes she can fight for herself but he will be there to protect if she needed him. Of course he cares for but isn't overprotective. Their relationship is so pure and healthy and I love it. I love how humble he is. Being the most Powerful HighLord of all the seven courts, you would expect him to be a rich snob but he is far from that.

I loved how much Feyre grew from that naive girl to a strong and badass woman. I could barely recognize her while rereading Acotar. It felt as there were two seperate girls in the two books. This is one of the best character development I have ever seen. My heart broke for what she went through. I could relate to her about some stuff minus the under the mountain scene (ofc). And I was so happy when she survived her depression and ptsd all because of Rhysand.

And I got so attached to whole inner circle, as if they were my family too. And I love Mor more than Amren because I could relate to her too besides the fact how sweet and strong she was

The whole book was a pure joy to read but my favorite parts were Starfall, The Summer Court and Court of Nightmares.

Starfall: It was such a beautiful celebration. Unlike, the ones in the spring court despite its pretty name. I loved the idea of stars falling down from the sky. Everyone was at their happiest. It was also sad to read knowing this was the first Starfall Rhys had after Amrantha. The fact that she knew how much it meant to him and yet she made him service her without his consent and on purpose. My hatred is like a burning sun. Moving on, I squealed at the moment when Mor and Feyre were talking and then Rhys came up behind them. My heart burst of joy when Feyre heard his voice and turned around. He took her to the balcony for her to experience Starfall at its prettiest. They had their cute moments and it was the moment when they were falling in love but didn't admit it yet to each other. Rhys hadn't laughed like that in ages, pure and a real laugh like Feyre hadn't smiled filled with pure joy ever since she was turned into a fae.

Summer Court: I loved Tarquin too. And I enjoyed the feysand moments at the court. Their constant back and forth banter and flirting. That's where the famous quote " To all the stars who listen and the dreams that are answered came from.

Court of Nightmares: This scene was so sexy and made my cheeks turn a deep shade of red. I loved how Rhys gave Feyre a choice whether she wanted to join him and the play the part or stay at home. It was her own choice that made her say " I wanna do it" and yet Rhys still felt guilty. Even when it wasn't like he forced or anything. He would never do that. I enjoyed them teasing each other. I was captivated by Rhys beauty. I love the real Rhys but I lust for the "evil" Rhys, the mask that he wears to protect his loved ones.

And that ending, I wasn't expecting that. I feel bad for those who had to wait a year or more for the next book esp after that gripping yet lovely cliffhanger. I didn't had to since the whole serious was already out. It was emotional even when Feyre was pretending to be in Rhys control. They work well so together. Rhys understood her plan through that bond and he acted so well. ( he actually deserves an oscar for his great acting of a bad guy). Tears rolled down my cheeks when the bond snapped and Feyre fell down to her knees, screaming in pain. Even Rhys. Sara tricked us but I was so grateful for that. That chapter in Rhys pov (the only chapter) was so precious. I was shook when he declared that Feyre is his Highlady and equal and the bond was never broken. It was just the bargain. And I loved how cunning Feyre. She is so smart and badass. Pretending to be in love with Tamlin (her ex), only to take him down along with his court.

This book brings me pure joy and reading it for the second time gave me a different perspective. I noticed things I didn't before. This time, I knew about Rhy's backstory so it was more emotional than the first time. And I didn't think of this sooner but I have a theory that Jurain knew all along that Rhys wasn't Amrantha's whore but was raped by her (sobs and gets angry). Esp, when he mentioned that he was forced to watch everything that bitch did due to the ring she made out of his eye. And he was the only one who was shocked when Feyre was pretending to hate Rhys. He knew since he screamed "What?'' when she told the king to break the bond.

Damn, this is the longest review I have ever written. No regrets though.

If you have read this far, be sure to follow my goodreads for more reviews. Link in my bio.

[read-watch-listen-17]

ACOWAR Commentary

SPOILERS - A Court of Wings and Ruin

Hybern King is a sneaky little bastard. That was good though. Why did Rhysand say she'd been there too long? Like he didn't want her to see what he did too long or hear what was said too long?

Oh come on Tarquin, no thank you for saving your sorry ass? I hope he realizes what exactly they just did for him. Without being asked. Rhysand was probably only too excited to announce to someone she is High Lady. Some traditions need to be destroyed or at least changed Tarquin. Awww Nesta is worried about Cassian 🥰 And there's her shield again. Oh look a LOTR line 🤣

Feyre’s gonna have to face the mirror before this is over. I just know it.

That crown sounds beautiful. 🤣🤣🤣🤣 betting on how quickly there's a fight ❤️❤️❤️ I was wondering when Nesta would finally agree to go with them. Every conversation she had with Feyre I kept thinking this is it, she's going to ask to go, but of course it was at the last minute. Awwww Nesta missed him, and Cassian isn't going to let her forget it. I wonder what exactly Mor is thinking? Is she trying to protect Cassian or is she jealous?

I love that line so much, 🥰🥰🥰"You bow to no one" also a line from LOTR. I'm sure a lot of other stories use it too, but that's the one I always think of when I hear it. This meeting is going to be very interesting.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Mor squealed, and there goes all the seriousness. Mother fucker, Tamlin stop being a sore loser. You went about everything wrong and you only have yourself to blame.😡😡😡 There goes the bet, no one won, nice job Azriel. Though I love that Azriel didn't respond to Rhys, he probably didn't put enough command in his voice for Az to take him seriously. Eris is gonna get what's coming to him.

Well, so much for that part of the plan. They all know she can wield their powers now. I love that Viviane is happy for her. If Cassian doesn't mention that speech to Nesta later on I'm gonna be disappointed.

Yes girl, they are your powers, given to you by the High Lords and they no longer have claim to them. Though it seems that Beron isn't going to care. Other than Beron, Helion is the only High Lord that worries me. He just rubs me a little the wrong way.

🤣🤣 Well that makes sense, Helion was wearing a mask. I like him now, he fits in with them 🥰

Holy shit Lucien is heir to the Day Court?! I was literally thinking this but stopped because his power is fire which is Autumn Court, but damn! That makes sense, there was always that comparison of his skin to his brothers. This is going to make things interesting.

Shit, just because they didn't find anything doesn't mean Nesta is wrong.

Well shit, no body panic.

Awwww Cassian giving Nesta as much as he can in the few minutes they have ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

🤣🤣🤣 I suspected Feyre might try bargaining with the creature beneath the library. That was easier than the Bone Carver, but will it work the way she wants it to? I guess we’ll find out.

Promises, promises.