#which also feels a tale as old as time
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Oooh Iâd absolutely love to listen if youâd ever want to share your experience with the differences in male and women writers đđ€
(x)
Hahaha, mm, look, I should disclaimer this with the fact that a lot of the men and women I spoke to at the writers centre weren't necessarily writers so much as they wanted to be writers?
The writers centre I worked at was a non-profit arts support service, so we were separate from the authors guild / union, but basically the organisation they'd refer people onto a lot for anything from people wanting to do creative writing workshops and masterclasses to people needing advice on preparing their novel manuscript for submission to legal advice on publishing contracts or even just connections to bookstores. It was a real mix of stuff, and our clientele ranged from absolute beginners and hobbyists to probably some of the most famous Australian authors working. I'd say most of the membership though was early career writers who had probably had a couple of short stories published, and were hoping to get a novel out.
I worked there for five and a half years and it really burnt me out. It was a pretty gruelling job, the pay was shit, and while a lot of people calling up were lovely, a lot were calling either to vent about rejection or were in a crisis mode usually because they'd just been preyed on by self-publishers and vanity presses and were now stuck in contracts that would financially ruin them.
But yes, haha, in my experience of working there and talking to writers literally all day, every day, from across the spectrum of experience:
Men will never sign up as a member (ergo pay their dues), donate or support the Centre, but WILL take advantage of the free advice line. I think we worked out at one point 92% of our paying members were women, yet I'd say over half the calls I took during the day were men.
Men consistently think they've written a hit. Quotes I've never forgotten include "This'll be bigger than Dan Brown and Robert Ludlum combined", "Now, is it you I should talk to when the bidding war starts?" and, my personal favourite: "I've written the greatest book since Federation."
They WILL send you their manuscript even though you are very clear that you do not read manuscripts at the centre. We are eight staff, we have 4k members, it is not possible.
Sometimes! Those manuscripts they send you will have capital I Images on the covers of them to 'catch your eye'. The worst one I ever saw was a woman stark naked spread eagle with a swastika photoshopped over her vagina.
Men do not think workshops will help them. They know enough and if you suggest a workshop on, say, writing fight scenes, or preparing your manuscript for publication, they will get audibly annoyed at you and usually wrap up the conversation.
Men will call to ask you why their self-published book isn't selling on Amazon like it's your fault.
Men will call to ask you why their traditionally published book isn't selling anywhere like it's your fault (I don't know, man! Probably because publishers have no marketing budgets anymore!)
Men are Never Wrong and also Always the Victim, which I guess is basically what you'd expect, haha.
#i would say working with male writers as a writer is different to working with them as a support service like that#in ways that are both better and worse lol#i dated a guy writer once off and on for like#a couple of years#and at the start of our relationship he was a lot more successful than me and really on the rise / 'hot' as an emerging writer#this is while i was working at the centre too actually#then i got more successful than him and in a tale as old as time#it imploded our relationship lol#he only dates women in their early twenties now#(he's 36)#which also feels a tale as old as time#i can barely date men these days because every time i say that i'm a writer the inevitable response is#oh i'm writing a book#and then the date morphs into one of the phone calls i'd take at the writers centre#it's wild haha#writing asks#this probably isn't what you meant anon but it is something i still think about all the time
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Desires đ«đŽ
#ah yes the tale old as time#a trans guy likes a character? BOOM NOW THEY'RE TRANS TO BABEY!#*Too#hate my dislexic ass#but in all seriousness#I've put so much symbolism with so little elements I feel clinically insane#also those wings were supposed to be swan wings but they ended up looking like Falin ones WHICH I DON'T MIND AT ALL#thistle#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#mad mage#lunatic magician#thistle dungeon meshi#i am an arts major AND IT SHOWS#FUCK.
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Once again feel the need to apologise for jumping around interests so often. Promise if u followed me for a certain character/thing that I always end up coming back to things eventually
#I know it's a tale as old as time and lots of ppl don't actually care which is great BUT. I still feel bad#Like esp thinking about the amount of ppl who liked my saw art. Or my postal/oc kick I went on#These things will return. Like all my interests are still in my brain. I just also wanna draw other things#But I do feel bad like I gotta draw more horror stuff and more oc stuff fr#Comms still one for this month btw!!! 2 slots!#Also just been feeling kinda down in general about my art and just lots of things so it doesn't help does it
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also while we're here i would like to share the two iterations of tumblr user gorespawn that have existed since i abandoned this blog back in like early 2021. Who wants me
#i grew my hair out so i could twirl my hair while giggling about bald men#and also t.o.p of bigbang#and short men i see at the grocery store who honestly make me feel light-headed with raw and unbridled Want#but that's just a joke. i am. Lesbian#''no ur not'' I AM#anyway i used to be so ripped and hunky but now i am frail and sickly#what getting a job can do to a mf#thankfully i quit my job last week YIPPIIIEEEEEEE so now i will work towards becoming an absolute hunk again#wish me luck#ALSO#if anyone is obsessed with me and remembers all my lore i used to be transgender and i still am like lowkey on the down low#but in a new exciting way#anyway i used to be a gay man and then a stone butch dyke (as seen above) but now im practicing being a girl#it is very difficult but it is also fun. ive never been a girl before so it's a lot#anyway i bought two super cool sexy dresses yesterday for the first time ever in my life#sexy dresses meaning up to my neck and down to my feet and past my elbows. kind of like a wardrobe straight out of the handmaid's tale#from (to quote my friend) ''*The* old lady store'' thanks man. well i think theyre pretty and its v exciting bc ive never been a girl befor#anyway#who wants me#i still use the name emil online btw and i honestly always will i think it's just so me and also i do still answer to he/him dw#in a man way not in a he/him lesbian way#''he's LGBTQA+'' what. all at once?#yes.#i have mastered them all i have collected all the genders and all the sexualities and ive never been ''wrong''#it just keeps switching. which is fine. well im a girl now. in a detransitioning man way. who is insanely attracted to men#but you will have to tear this lesbian label out of my cold dead hands#''you can't call urself lesbian if u have sex w men'' well first of all fuck you and second of all i am celibate so you dont need to worry#''what the hell are you talking about'' nothing. now look how hot i am#im just joking around i hope that's fine w y'all
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maybe I really need to get back into carbonated water. the latest addition to the local grocery store's bottled water selection has been quite good actually (sparkling peach and sparkling lime-lemon flavour) in those 3/4 liter "sports" bottles...
#maybe the carbonation will keep my senses entertained enough that i don't feel the need to stuff my face with food 24/7#also hydrationnnnnnnn so important#struggling with food again. if i' not super rigid with meal prep and portions and timing i go off the rails#i just don't feel really hungry or full. got no cues unless i'm in the beginning stages of starvation#and food is more of a sensory distraction thing to me i think arghhh which i HATE#i could do so many other more fun or productive things but then i get stuck in a snacking cycle#because of textures and mouth feel. so stupidddddd#could this be considered an e.d.?????? idek#just. food struggles a tale as old as time. have felt like this my entire life#vent#sorry i'l delete this post if it's too triggering to anyone#just had to ramble and be honest about my eternal struggle#could this be an autism thing too????? we just don't know!!!!!
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you know someday i'm gonna feel so good when i have my student loans paid off
that ain't gonna be soon, trust me, but i think about it
#i've been saving so much for it that i paid off over like $2k in the last 2 or 3 months#it's just thinking about how the amount of interest goes off that drives me literally crazy#and my monthly amount i owe is like just under $120#which to some people as a regular bill is more manageable than others. but as i have an irregular income#as a substitute teacher it's something that gives me a LOT of stress.#which is another reason i've been overpaying. in case something happens/i can't get a lot of work#it defers the next due date.#that way it's not urgent but yet i still *feel* it all the time#debt is a crazy kind of thing#and to think that my loans are from COMMUNITY college. two years. publicly owned#when i start taking classes again soon. i currently have enough saved that if i take like ONE class#i can pay out of pocket. and i think im only gonna take one class to start anyway#which will also help with the deferred payments#see i just fucking hate having to think practically about money like this#tales from diana#idk how ppl leave high school and go straight to live in a dorm room at a private university for four straight years#and rack up tens to hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt.#first of all that lifestyle was not accessible for me to begin with. even when paying it was such an abstract put-it-off thought#as it is for so many 18-year-olds who are told not to worry about where they apply.#but i had under $12k to repay when the student loan debt was unfrozen last fall#and it's been weighing on me soooo heavily since then. i think about it every damn day#it's like the money i make isn't even mine. it goes straight to mohela and food#keep in mind i also live w my parents & am on their health insurance so someday there'll be moooore bills!!!!
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The idea of King of the Hill having a revival in this era of US politics is so scary to me. Lots of directions the show can go and I'm not sure if I like any of them.
#I don't think the brand of conservatism expressed by a lot of the characters in the show exists in the us anymore#now with the exaggerated brand brought on by trumpies#I just don't think the show will be relevant without...changing the characters completely#which would be kind of disheartening#I mean the beavis and butthead revival translates well so far it is just two idiots tale as old as time#also aging them up to be older makes for some of the best episodes of the revival#I don't think king of the hill would translate the same way at least without alienating some of its og audience#NOT TO MENTION so many of the actors passing away#like I don't really want someone to take up dale gribble's reigns and if you take him out of the show well...#I almost agree with people that having a spin-off based around bobby as an adult would be a better move at least I would be interested in i#IDK just ranting I am considerably new to the show compared to other fans but I have a lot of feelings about this lol#koth#king of the hill#beavis and butthead#mike judge#squack
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Am i fundamentally inhuman and unlovable and unfit to exist in modern society and actually secretly an evil fake bitch or am i just going to start my period in a few days.
#horse.txt#the world may never know.....#anyway ive felt especially hateful these past few days and im blaming that dream where i told a karen to khs#bc thats just been in my head on repeat ever since at Every inconvenience and i actually kind of hate it#bc i. have noticed it absolutely tanking my mood every time lmao#which makes acting normal (aka Nice) really fucking hard#i want to be i like being nice its like the only thing going for me but also i have SUCH a talent for pissing ppl off when i Let Go#and man. every day it gets more and more tempting. even though i know id regret it.#i just want to fucking. disappear off the face of the earth for 3 years and then come back to my friends n family as a whole person#instead of whatever the fuck i am now#i have nothing to fucking offer except for things im way too scared to give up. i feel like i can only be honest with complete strangers#but even then like. not really lmao#tale as old as fucking time#god i dont want to be here anymore#vent //
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Tags got cut off but I am NOT being silenced!!!!!!
like the way you drew RDA to be more serpentine and fit more medieval depictions of dragons (especially with the profile on that snout. Its so. Arthurian? I have no fuckin clue what im talking about.)
And the way you redrew ancient fairy's hair to be more of a singular piece to fit the stained glass/fairy tale style.
Of course can't overlook the master crosshatching and shading on this, too. I think thats where a lot of the vibe comes from and its 1 million percent worth it. It's especially evident and amazing on metallic areas like Ancient Fairy's gold and the roboworm.
And holee shit the robo worm is gonna make me break down. You actually drew all the segments! you shaded them all individually! You shaded and highlighted so that the rims and ridges were especially obvious! Not only that but they all seem to slide and fit together so perfectly and naturally. I can see this roboworm slithering about I bet its deceptively loud (I know it flies let a girl dream). The gems and horns are also amazing, too!
Anyway this entire piece is awe inspiring. it must have taken an immense amt of time and effort. A real labour of love. It's worth 50000 dollars to me but I am sadly poor so I cannot buy zine. I'm sorry. Thanks for drawing this, anyway. its god tier.
Courage and Power lead to a revolution for peace! Synchro Summon! Evolve! Life Stream Dragon!
So SO excited to get to share the full spread I did for @aygozineproduction 's Dragon's Den Zine! A celebration of medieval tapestries, my favorite 5D's duel, and one of my absolutely favorite yugioh dragons âšđ
#this is gonna sound really weird#but this gives me powerful welsh dragon vibes#which I think goes to show how well you encapsulated the ideal of revolution and hope and taking down the powerful#in this piece#i dont know anything about classical art or motifs but im assuming that the flag is in reference to#some kind of classical art piece#also really love the way you incorporate uh#snakes#to have that sense of a demonic vibe#and couch it further in classics? I think#but the snakes are actually torn up power cords to emphasise the robotic nature of aporias mon (while also filling neg space really nicely!#also really present in the excellent way the robosnakes tail coils around life stream#while life streams own tail is very straight laced#i dont really understand my own feelings but it makes one feel more heroic and one feel more fiendish#anyway I love lifestreams pose comp and big rawr its great#for example how the motif of flag is obviously center stage#but also subtly continued and repeated in the flag of rainbows (gay) and life streams wings (again really good way of filling space too!)#the synchro rails in the back are SUCH a nice touch too!#ive said this five times already but amazing comp#the relative scarcity of green on the purple means the yellow of lifestream is centered REALLY well#the yellow of the worm too#plus the worms purple ties it into the bg#jeez and I havent even gotten to the amazing frame#I love love love the way RDA and ancient fairy are breaking the frame (the flag too!)#its a rly good ref to old fairy tale art frames!#the signers + aporia look great too look at Leos big smile#and rukas relieved shock#ok last bit god I hope the tags dont get cut off#the entire style of this is jaw dropping#the heavy crosshatching and shadowing to capture the fairytale/stained glass aesthetic of the piece
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REDAMANCY.
Cregan Stark x female Targaryen!Reader (Part 4 here)
From the very beginning on youâve been hesitant to accept your younger brotherâs offer to return to the capital for your child to receive his blessings. And when youâre finally on the way, itâs your husbandâs duty to take care of you.
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MDNI; p in v, lactation kink, lactating, pregnant sex, pregnancy, slight breeding kink, praise kink, slight degrading, angst, fluff
WORDS: 3.3 K
NOTES: Redamancy means A love returned in full; an act of loving the one who loves you, and let me tell you: these two are in love. Thanks to @sylasthegrim, itâs always good to know you help me with my zero grasp on English!
âïž đđđ đČđšđźđ«đŹđđ„đ đđš đŠđČ đđđ đ„đąđŹđ!
Ravens from Winterfell flying all the way down to Kingâs Landing has always taken quite some time. And therefore it was no wonder you were surprised that one of your younger brotherâs ravens reached the castle not long after you'd informed him you were with child, inviting you to birth it in the Red Keep for it to receive the young kingâs blessings.
Being the ever dutiful Lord of House Stark, there was no way your husband would refuse the offer, and once your pregnancy had crossed the seventh moon mark, a carriage and your husbandâs entourage were sent south.
From the very beginning on youâve been hesitant to accept the offer. Westerosâ capital has brought nothing but pain and grief to you, and youâre afraid coming back ruins the comfort and peace youâve found far, far away from the castle in the North, in Winterfell. But a part of you misses and longs for your siblings and the part of your family thatâs still left, hence it didnât take too much convincing from your husband.
Youâve lost count of the days you spent in that damned carriage by now, solely accompanied by your maids as your dear husband rides at the front of his entourage, joining his men on horseback. But thereâs one thing all days have in common: itâs you being exhausted beyond relief once night comes.
For the longest time you thought your unborn babe to be no-fussy and calm, which proved to be false just one week into the travel. Itâs restless, kicking and moving especially when you finally find rest in the bed of the receptive inn you stay in for the night. Your feet are swollen, just like your breasts, and your body provides milk as though the babe has been long born already, and all you crave at this point is for the pregnancy to be over already.
As the wheelhouse comes to a stop, you rub your swollen bump with a sigh, looking toward the door with heavy footsteps approaching. Your beloved husband opens the door, and even though he wonât admit it, he looks just as exhausted as you do.
âIs it time?â you ask, slowly rising to your feet with another sigh. You place your small hand in his large one, allowing him to help you out.
He nods, bringing a hand to the small of your back. âIndeed. We have reached the crossroads. From here we are only ten days away from Kingâs Landing, which means the end of our journey is in sight,â he replies. âHow are you and our son feeling?â
Cregan guides you away from the wheelhouse, escorting you through the crowd of his men towards a large inn sitting right where the river road crosses the kingsroad. And from old tales of your uncle you know it has to be the Bellringer Inn, a place where even your great-grandfather and great-grandmother have stayed at before.
âWe do not yet know if this babe will be a boy or a girl, husband,â you chastise him in a teasing manner.
âYou are right, we do not,â he says. âBut I feel it in my bones. Just call it a fatherâs intuition.â
You roll your eyes at his words and nudge his ribs with your elbow, yet there also pulls a smile at the corners of your lips. He chuckles at that. âCareful, my love, I am not as nimble as I used to be.â
Shaking your head, you giggle softly. âDo not tell me that you are an old man now, Lord Stark.â
As you make your way through the courtyard and towards the inn, you can feel the curious glances of the passerby; a man of Creganâs caliber always drew the attention toward him, just like your hair did. But youâre unbothered by it all. You carry a piece of your husband within you, and that thought fills you with a sense of fulfillment and pride.
He looks for the innkeeper as you reach for his hand, pulling it from your back around your frame, squeezing it softly. âMight you join me tonight? I know that you can not leave your men alone, but one night will surely do no harm. I must admit that I have hardly found sleep without your warmth for the past weeks.â
With a gentle, intimate gesture, Cregan brushes his fingers over your swollen bump, before pulling you against his side. âHow can I ever be expected to refuse anything my beautiful wife asks of me? Of course I will join you tonight.â Leaning a bit closer toward you, he adds with a quiet whisper: âYour presence has been missed in my bed as well. The nights feel cold and lonely without you by my side.â
Heat crawls onto your cheeks at the proximity and the slight implication that comes with his words, solely interrupted when a stout man with a bushy beard but otherwise pleasant demeanor walks around the corner and welcomes you two.
Upon Creganâs inquiry about the availability of a room, he hands over the keys and leads you toward your place of retreat for the night. More than once have you told Cregan youâre perfectly fine with sleeping in a tent with him, yet he always came back to your delicate condition, stating he only wants the best for you and his unborn child, and you eventually have given up and accepted it.
The room is decent. Not as big as your chambers at home, but still larger than what youâve slept in for the last few weeks. Your maids already scurry into the room to bring some of your belongings and clothes to get you ready for the night, while Cregan leans in to kiss your temple. âLet me arrange for my man to sleep outside the inn for the night,â he mutters against your skin. âAnd then we shall spend the night in warm beds.â
Even with your maids bustling around you, you canât help but feel a flicker of excitement at his words. The prospect of sharing the night with him is enough to make you forget the soreness of your swollen curves that has become a constant companion over the past few moons.
âI will freshen up in the meantime,â you say, leaning into his touch before he pulls away to take care of his menâs sleeping arrangements for the night. Once everything was adjusted in the chambers, your maids moved to help you out of your clothes, but you refused them, having planned something very special.
Standing in front of the small window, overlooking a stable with a thatch roof and a bell tower, you all but admire how quietly Cregan opens the door, and with the lock falling right into place behind him, the room grows even quieter and the atmosphere becomes charged with anticipation.
âIs everything sorted?â you ask, looking at him from over your shoulder.
âAll set,â your husband replies with a low voice as he approaches you.
He comes to tower over your frame from behind, moving his hands over your hips up to your waist. Lifting your head, your eyes lock with his. âAlone at last, hm?â Thereâs a sultry smile on your lips now, and you gently reach behind you to cup his cheek with one hand. âNow youâre all mine for the night.â
You lean against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breaths against your back. Cregan seizes the opportunity and brushes your hair over one shoulder before he presses his lips to the crook of your neck. The touch makes you sigh, stirring something inside of you you have had to keep at bay for quite some time. When he brings his large hands to your swollen breasts, fondling them through the thick fabric of your dress, you canât help but moan, the slight squeezing aiding against the heaviness.
But then his hands and lips leave your body, and he slightly leans around you to look at you â or rather your breasts â and you immediately know the reason why.
The gray fabric has become damp under his touch, two dark spots prominent in the front of it. While it brings a bit of shame to your cheeks, the low rumble that escapes his chest sends a fire straight down between your legs. âI should have warned you I started leaking a fortnight ago,â you admit ashamedly, biting your bottom lip.
âI quite enjoy the sight of it, you know,â he says, voice laced with a combination of awe, adoration and burning need. His hands shift to the lace in the back of your dress. âBut let us put this to good use.â
The dress comes undone with ease, falling to the floor in a puddle around your feet. Damp spots are decorating your smallclothes, but this time you donât mind the sight. Creganâs hands now roam over your body, tracing the curve of your waist and your growing bump.
Although you know exactly what it is his words are meant to imply, you choose to tease him. âAnd what is it you have in mind right now, hm?â
His gray eyes briefly flicker to the bed close to you, before meeting yours again. âI have a few things in mind. But for nowâŠâ He cups your chin, tilting your head up so he can claim your lips in a slow, deep kiss thatâs full of desire and passion. It makes you feel as though the air is sucked right out of your lungs by him, as if you canât survive without his lips on yours. âHow about we make the most of this night, my love?â
âIâm all yours,â you breathe against his lips.
His large hands roam your curves, helping you out of your undergarments, until they settle at your thighs, wrapping around them to effortlessly hoist you up. Although Cregan is quite the bull of a man and appears to be a brute, he possesses a tenderness you wouldnât expect from him, gently keeping your body against his and lying you down on the bed not far away just as carefully.
Soft, gentle kisses are pressed to your collarbones, igniting a fire within you that has been smoldering for too long. As his fingers glide over your skin with featherlight touches, leaving a burning trail behind, he finds his hands drawn to your full breasts, cupping and holding them, and eventually squeezing them.
More droplets of your milk trickle into his calloused palms, wetting his skin, but he does not careânot when he has you writhing and whimpering beneath him at just the faintest of touches.
Your husbandâs eagerness would have almost made you chuckle, watching him rise from the bed to rid himself off his clothes hastily, if it wouldnât match your own desire and greediness. With his breeches falling to the ground, his cock stands to full attention, hard enough for it to almost seem painful.
His hungry gazes devours your bare form, tall frame slightly hunched forwards as his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.
âWill you just stand there and watch, my wolf?â you tease, propping yourself up on your elbows. âWhat happened to âlet us put this to good useâ?â
Itâs the teasing lilt in your voice that pulls him out of his stupor like a wave, the chuckle he releases low and throaty. âYou are a temptress, my love,â he replies. âYou are lucky I am a man of my word.â
âThen touch me,â you whine, words coming out more desperate than actually intended.
He doesnât need any more encouragement. Slowly approaching the bed, Cregan bows forwards and grabs one of your feet. He lifts your leg and starts to trail sloppy, open mouthed kisses along the inside of your leg, occasionally nibbling on the skin of your inner thigh.
Your back slightly arches off the mattress, body thrumming with desire. Entangling your hands in his dark curls, you use the grip as reigns to where you want him most, but your husband acts completely unfazed, not allowing you to tug him higher up.
He takes his time, kissing and nibbling your thighs, before he boldly presses a kiss to the apex of your legs, tongue briefly dragging through your folds. It elicits a shudder in its wake, and you canât stifle a moan.
Making his way up, he licks your navel, and eventually traces the curve of your full breast, circling your hardened bud. Cregan laps up every drop of milk that oozes out of your bud like nothing else than a starved wolf, the edge of his teeth applying just a faint pressure to the sensitive skin to stimulate the flow.
But when his other hand comes up to fondle and squeeze your other breast, thatâs the moment you lose your composure, shamelessly smothering him with your breasts. âGods, CreganâŠâ you whimper, immediately bringing you relief. There isnât even time to waste a thought about the indecency of it all, not when it feels just so right.
Itâs your mewls, your whispered whines and moans, the sound of you saying his name in such a desperate manner that drives him to continue. âYou make me ache for you,â he rasps against your skin, voice thick with desire. Your husband never falters to ignite a fire inside of you with his words, especially when thereâs an innuendo hidden between his praises.
Bringing his hand from your breast down between your bodies, he aligns himself with you, dragging the tip of his cock through your folds in a way that makes you bite back a moan and grind against him. You grip his dark curls harshly as he finally eases inside, pushing into you inch by inch, agonizingly slow to make sure you feel him enter you.
His suckling falters with the tightness of your walls embracing him, overwhelmed by pure bliss and a feeling heâs missed for the past few weeks.
Every gasp and whine that escapes you only serves to embolden him further, continuing to tease and taste your breast with unrivaled enthusiasm. It juxtaposes the slow, sloppy thrusts of his hips, and brings you two different kinds of sensations at once.
Cregan has made himself home between your legs, rocking his hips leisurely back and forth. He has dropped his weight on one elbow and leant his upper body to the side, determined to not put any weight on your swollen bump. His lips are firmly wrapped around your bud while his hand teases the other, pinching and squeezing it between his fingers. The proximity is unmatchable, feeding into your constant desire to be as close to him as possible.
You can practically watch him lose every ounce of self control, his suckling becoming more intense and the thrusts growing in determination. His groans and grunts are muffled, and droplets of your milk trickle idly down his chin, getting lost in the dark, coarse hairs.
You fully expect him to say something when he releases your bud, but heâs far too eager to get his fill again. Pinching the perky bud of your other breast harshly, droplets of milk run down the curve of it, only to be traced by his tongue, liking a flat stripe over your skin. He chokes on a groan as the sight has you clenching tightly around his hard cock.
âPleaseâ do not stop,â you whimper, applying a bit of pressure to his head to urge him towards your breast again. â... not yet.â
Dark-blown eyes suddenly flicker up to meet yours, and a shuddered breath leaves your lips. âMy my, what a greedy wench I have for a wife,â he chuckles to himself. You donât take offense, but the statement does make you duck your head and bite your bottom lip sheepishly. âI do not intend to.â
Despite the teasing, itâs obvious your pleas fall upon eager ears as he heeds your command and closes his lips around your bud again. Every hungry pull of his lips draws more and more milk from you, and while relief makes itself known in your breasts, a different kind of pressure starts to settle in the pit of your belly.
Squeezing him so well, you make it impossible for Cregan to move on his own accord, and quickly take over, rolling your hips against his. Itâs a race for completion, making your pearl throb with anticipation.
The coarse hairs of your husbandâs beard drag over your sensitive skin with his eager suckling, tickling you and causing you to arch against him even more. You have your arms wrapped around his neck at this point, keeping him tightly against you.
A string of yesses falls past your lips like a chant, and the pace of your hips increases as far as your bump allows you to. Your mind grows hazy with pleasure, until your peak washes over you with a loud gasp.
You havenât noticed Cregan watching you through it all, too focused on the sensations coursing through your body. His gaze is mesmerized, clearly relishing in the relief thatâs etched onto your features and the way your walls flutter around his cock.
He pulls back, droplets of milk resting in the corners of his lips, and lifts his body to tower over you. The thrusting of his hips grows sharper now, determined to help you through your pleasure.
âThatâs it,â he rasps, one hand resting on the mattress next to your head while the other gropes at your now relieved breasts.
âOnce this pup is born,â he emphasized the words by rolling your sore bud between his index finger and thumb, drawing out just a few more droplets of milk. âI shall put another in you to keep you round with my seed.â
Your head grows dizzy, lightheaded even, and you canât do more than whimper and whine through your peak, not fully comprehending what heâs said.
Cregan snaps his hips into yours once, twice before he topples over the edge with a loud groan, his throbbing cock spending itself deep inside of you. Cupping your breast, his fingers dig harshly into your flesh.
You continue to roll your hips against his, prolonging his pleasure. Switching roles, itâs now your turn to milk him for every drop, taking everything his cock spills inside of you. Every muscle in his body tenses, until eventually, he collapses to the side, careful not to put his weight on your swollen bump.
With his cock slowly becoming flaccid again, the sensation of his seed leaking out of your cunt is more apparent, causing heat to spread throughout your body. If it wasnât for you carrying his child already, you would have mounted him to make sure his seed would bear fruit.
Cregan eventually lies down on his back, and you seize the chance to rest your head on his chest. Itâs hard to keep your eyes open as his hand softly entangles into your hair, scratching your scalp in the manner that usually lulls you to sleep. His breath is slower now, his chest rising and lowering your head.
âI can not bear to spend another night without you by my side,â you all but whisper, bringing a hand to his stomach.
Your finger trails the contours of his muscles, before following the dark trail of coarse hairs down.
âYou neednât worry about that,â he says. âWe shall not stay in Kingâs Landing for too long. And I highly doubt that anyone could get me out of your chambers during the time we stay there. Once we arrive, we shall stay together.â
Nodding your head slowly, you hum a âmh-mhâ, too engrossed in the feeling of his hand in your hair and the other rubbing soothing circles over your back. Having trouble staying awake, youâre hardly able to process his next words, already drifting off to sleep.
âLet us sleep now, my love. We have another tiresome day ahead of us.â
Cregan Taglist: @nats-whore @aemondsbabe
#house of the dragon#hotd#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark#cregan x reader#cregan fanfiction#cregan x you#cregan stark x you#cregan stark fanfiction#cregan stark imagine#cregan smut#cregan stark smut#cregan stark x y/n#hotd cregan#house of the dragon cregan#hotd fanfic#hotd imagine#hotd fic#hotd x y/n#hotd x reader#hotd x you#hotd smut#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon smut#house of the dragon imagine#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fic
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I've Been Waiting For You | Azriel
summary: Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate.
warnings: mentions of death (since the suriel & reader are friends); some angst but also fluff because Az deserves to be happy âĄ
a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: The lyrics kind of reminded me of Alice & Jasper from twilight and how she had a vision of meeting him. This does go back and forth a lot in the beginning between past and present and came out longer than I thought it would. It's 9.6K words (which for me is long lol.) I apologize if there are any spelling errors. I've read this multiple times but somehow, always miss a couple.
As the moonlight dances upon the water's surface, the river transforms into a liquid ribbon of silver, weaving through the city of Starlight. Anticipation fills the air as Azriel walks across the bridge that spans the Sidra, his massive Illyrian wings glistening in midnight hues under the pale moonlight.Â
Shadows play hide-and-seek as they travel through the night, drawn to the silhouette of a female figure. An intruder. Yet, Azriel's shadows dare to whisper something different into his ears.
âIâve been waiting for you.â
Your voice, carried by the wind, reaches him like a sweet caress, daring to awaken something deep within him. Beautiful. His shadows respond with a frenzy, a whirl of darkness singing wild tales into his ears, urging him forward. Meanwhile, his brain screams at the potential threat.
More tendrils of darkness dart toward you, ignoring their masterâs orders to return. You donât seem bothered by them. In fact, you seem to welcome them as if theyâre old friends of yours.Â
Azriel swallows, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, unsure what to make of this.Â
âWho are you?â
Finally, you turn around and Azriel feels like the wind has been knocked out of him when his gaze meets yours. In the midst of the surrounding darkness, your eyes gleam with an inexplicable brightness. Specs of silver glimmer in your eyes, mirroring the stars above, as they shine back at him. Â
âThatâs for you to decide,â you reply with a smile that carries both hope and a sense of knowing as you follow after him and take a step forward.
âBut for now, Iâd like to speak with your High Lady.â
Months beforeâŠ
The brilliance of a thousand stars shine down on you and the night seems to hold its breath, as if it too, awaits the whispered prophecies from the celestial expanse above. Like always, you are itching to unveil them with your finely attuned senses. A gust of cool wind brushes through your hair, sending shivers down your exposed skin. Pulling your gaze away from the night sky, you turn in time to see a cloaked figure approaching like a shadow in the night.
Your lips curve into a smile. âHello, friend.â
ây/n.â The Suriel greets you, hovering beside you. Then, not missing another beat, he says, âI told her Rhysand was her mate.â
Your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping your lips. âYou did not.â
âI did.â He grins back at you, flashing you his stained teeth.
You canât help but laugh a little at your dear old friend. The Suriel lets out a rattled sound you discern as a laugh as he joins you. Always the one for dramatics. You still remember hearing about his first encounter with Feyre Archeron and how he told her to stay with the High Lord.
âI told her she must stay with the High Lord.â
âDid you specify which one?â
âWhereâs the fun in that?â
âIâm sure she handled it well,â you respond but your smile fades, giving way to a wistful expression. âSheâs lucky. Not only is she made but the Cauldron has blessed her with a mate. The High Lord of the Night Court at that.â
The weight of his gaze settles upon you. Youâre aware that your words carry a tinge of envy, a sentiment that feels unjust when considering everything Feyre has endured. The Suriel, ever perceptive, acknowledges this as well. He chooses not to remind you and indulges you instead.
âThe Cauldron has blessed you as well, my child.â
âHave you seen it?â
Hope sparks in your eyes as you turn to face him. His eyes, pools of ancient wisdom, seem to pierce through the veils of time and secrets. You sense one of them unfolding. But he only gives you a teasing glimpse.
âPerhaps.âÂ
With a furrow in your brows, you lift your head back up to glare at the night sky. The stars seem to blink at you in a teasing manner, as if finding amusement in keeping this secret from you.Â
âHow come I havenât seen it?â
âYou will soon.â He reassures, following your gaze upwards. A dance of amusement swirls within the depths of his eyes. âHeâs waited centuries for you. Count your stars lucky that your waiting wonât be as long.â
Back to the presentâŠ
Velaris lived up to its name. A dream compared to the horrors of the city you grew up in. But as the city sparkles and comes to life at the darkening hour, all your attention is drawn to the male before you. Heâs even more breathtaking in person. Everything about him is classically beautiful and the moon seems to agree, shining down on him and casting an ethereal glow on the golden-brown of his skin.
As Azriel continues to approach you, his wings fold gracefully behind him. His gaze is locked onto yours and though his eyes are cautious and analytical, thereâs a warm shiver running down your spine. The desire to lose yourself in the hazel depths of his eyes becomes an irresistible pull.
Before you know it, the shadows brushing against your arms rise and come to rest against your eyes in a blindfold. Darkness engulfs you, and the sensation of weightlessness takes hold as Azriel winnows both of you. You land on a soft cushionâa chair. The dark tendrils leave your eyes and wrap around your wrists and legs, binding them together.
âStay here.â Azriel says, the shadows wrapped around your limbs tightening in a silent warning.
A chuckle escapes from you and when your eyes meet his again, you flash him a mischievous smile. It widens when heâs the first to fold, quickly averting his gaze. He has no clue. Youâre exactly where you want to be.
He leaves the room and your eyes finally take in your surroundings. Veiled curtains made of midnight blue silk drape the expansive windows, pulled back to allow moonlight to filter through. Shelves line the walls, housing collections of ancient artifacts and magical trinkets. A large desk, crafted from dark, polished wood rests before you. Your gaze fixates on the wall behind it, where a captivating portrait of the female you seek rests.
The door behind you swings open, and you turn to witness the graceful entrance of the female from the portrait. Feyre, the Cursebreaker and High Lady of the Night Court. She's a vision of night and beauty, her golden-brown hair cascading down her exposed back, revealing glimpses of moon phases etched along her spine.
âHigh Lady,â you say in greeting, bowing your head in respect.
Surprisingly, the High Lord doesn't accompany her. Instead, it's Azriel who trails behind her. Her calm blue eyes assess you as she takes a seat across from you. Azriel stands guard behind her and you feel his shadows watching your every breath.Â
"And who might you be?"
âIâm y/n,â you respond, choosing your next words carefully. âAn old friend of the Surielâs. Iâve come to pledge my allegiance to you and offer my help.â
Something flickers in her blue eyes at the mention of the Suriel and her stoic expression falters, if only for a moment. You send her a sympathetic smile, your own heart aching at the mention of the fearsome creature you both held dear.
âYour help?â She echoes.
"Sheâs a seer," Azriel interjects, his voice setting your heart alight as there's no hint of disgust or apprehension in his tone.
Your kind is often regarded with hostility. He might not know your connection...yet. But heâs paid you enough attention to recognize your abilities and appears to be indifferent about them. If the Suriel were still alive, you know heâd laugh at your slight delusion.
"I am," you confirm. "And I know your sister is one too." You donât miss the tension in Azrielâs body at the mention of the cauldron-made fae, but you don't dwell on it as you can also sense Feyre's protectiveness. "She has great potential. I can help her hone her skills. Together, we canâ"
"No," Azriel growls protectively. His sharp interruption has you startling in your seat and hope deflates as you feel the intensity of his glare.
Feyre raises a hand, signaling him to stand back. âWhy should I trust you?â
âLet me show you.â
Months beforeâŠ
âBy the Cauldron, what did you get yourself into?â
The Suriel grins mischievously, his tattered cloak barely clinging to his bony form. He graciously accepts the cloak you offer, a luxurious piece made of the softest velvet in the darkest shade of black you could find. A purr escapes him as he revels in its warmth. "Nothing," he responds coyly, the satisfaction evident in the bounce of his form as he hovers in the air.
You shoot him a pointed look, yearning to know what he was up to. Youâre certain it was no good. âSure,â you retort and then gesture toward the crackling fire you started. âI also made dinner.â
âYou spoil me.â
âItâs what friends do.â
"Friend," he muses, the white pools of his eyes burning into your soul, as he turns to you. "As a friend, I should tell you that your dress is absolutely atrocious on you. Cobalt blue is more your color."
With a glare, you playfully throw the roasted chicken over the fire at his face. He effortlessly catches it with his mouth, cackling as he chews on the tender piece of meat.
"What do you know about fashion? All you do is thirst for robes."
âYou forget that I am older than the bones of this world. I know everything about everything. I also cannot lie.â
"Doesn't stop you from hiding the truth," you respond cheekily, and he hums in agreement,
Silence falls as he seats himself beside you on the ground. He breaks it a couple of moments later. âRemember what I told you last time?â
You release a deep sigh because you do remember. The mere thought haunts you nearly every night, and youâre often burdened by the heavy weight of it. Your shoulders slump in response. âWhy can't you do it yourself?â
âIt is your fate, not mine,â he states simply, a reminder of the immutable laws of destiny.
âIâm not ready.âÂ
You donât think you ever will be and suddenly, youâre that fragile sixteen year old again, who had to run away from the only place you called home to escape a cruel fate. The one who was left to navigate through her new onset of divine abilities alone.
That is, until, the fateful night you had thrown your cloak over a tree branch to dry. It had been stained by blood after a rough and almost deadly encounter with a stray naga so you had spent all morning cleaning it in the river nearby. Completely unaware of the Suriel you were summoning.
âYou do not fear me?â
âThat is mine,â you had said through clenched teeth with a deep rooted glare.
In the midst of your tug of war with the Suriel, your cloak tore in half. In that moment, you braced yourself for the dark creature's wrath. However, something in you captured his attention that day, and he chose not to unleash his fury upon you. He decided to take you under his wing instead.
He recognized your lineage without a single word spoken about it. He could sense your power coursing through your veins, waiting to be unraveled. After decades of patience and practicing, he was there to witness the formation of stars weaving themselves into the depths of your eyes. The mark of your seer abilities.
As always, the Suriel reads you like an open book. He can sense your insecurity, your hesitancy. But, in equal measure, he can sense your power, your potential.
âYou will be,â he insists, his words carrying the unwavering certainty of the all-knowing creature he is. âYou must guide and open the eyes of Elain Archeron the same way I did for you.â
Your throat tightens. âWhen?â
âSoon.â
And when you look up to gaze at the night sky, the stars align for you. A cascade of visions unfurls, pouring over you like a celestial waterfall. Your eyes become a myriad of galaxies and ears are teased with glimpses of conversations and whispers from the stars above. One moment, youâre in a forest, standing before a female figure crouched over a cloaked one.Â
âThe trackingâŠI knew of it.âÂ
Then, a rattling breath. âLeave this world a better place than how you found it.â
Abruptly, the scene shifts, and you stand in an enchanting city of starlight, gazing at the expansive river before you as anticipation fills the air. He comes for you. Azriel, the shadowsinger. The name resonates in the echoes of your mind.
Then, the final vision envelopes you, drawing you into the depths of mesmerizing hazel eyes. The voice that accompanies it is carried by the enchantment of night, gently caressing against your ears.Â
âIâve been waiting for you.â
Mate. That is your mate. Azriel, theâ
âDo you see it now?â
With a sharp intake of breath, youâre pulled from the downpour of your visions, only to find your senses clouded with tears that pool at the corners of your eyes. How cruel, you think, your heart twisting in agony. And though meeting your mateâyour fated companionâwas among your greatest dreams, you no longer want it. Not if it means youâll lose your greatest companion.
You can live without knowing your mate. After all, youâre doing so at this very moment. The Suriel has been your friend for decades. Two souls brought together by their mutual loneliness. An all knowing creature and a seer. Together, youâre a powerful duo, navigating through the fated intricacies of Prythian. Youâd be lost without him.
âPlease donât go,â youâre begging.
The Suriel smiles but itâs not his usual mischievous grin. This time, a tinge of sorrow lingers in the curve of his lips, casting his expression in a veil of sadness.
âI have to. Itâs my time to go,â he says. âJust promise me one thing?â
âAnything.â
âThat when itâs your time to shine, youâll find Feyre. Help her make this world a better place.â
Back to Present
Feyre blinks back tears as she withdraws from your mind. She turns her head toward the Shadowsinger behind her, and for a moment, fear grips you. You allowed her to see the revelation of Azriel being your mate but only because it was deeply entwined with the other pertinent visions.
âRelease her.â
The shadows release their grip on you and you let out a deep exhale in relief. But the inky tendrils donât leave your side. They linger and hover over you and at this, Azrielâs eyebrows furrow.
Feyre extends her hand out toward you. Her blue eyes are warm, a gentle reassurance that sheâd harbor your secret for you. A smile graces her lips, one that you're happy to reciprocate.
âIâll gladly accept your help but let me speak with Elain first. You may stay here. Thereâs a spare room upstairs. Azriel will show you around.â
Following his High Ladyâs orders, Azriel shows you around the grand estate. Heâs a bit reserved around you and you donât blame him. Both a blessing and a curse, your visions offer insight into his world, yet you're a mere stranger imposing on the family he protects fiercely.
And as he finally shows you to your room, the one right next to his, you can only hope that someday, heâll welcome you too. After all, he is your mate.
Elain Archeron is infinitely beautiful. Inside and out. She is gentle and sweet and you see why some mistake her kindness for weakness. But it took only days for you to become well aware of the strength and power she harbors deep within.
While your abilities were limited to what the stars wanted to show you, you sensed that hers were limitless. With the right training, she could summon visions at her call, anticipate anyone's move. You wanted to help her achieve that and prove those people that saw her as something fragile wrong. Though reluctant toward your help at first, Elain was kind enough to listen to you and consider the advice you gave. It took some further convincing but you knew she was itching to unravel the depths of her powers too.
But it's proving to be a challenge. A hard and exhausting one. You're not surprised. It took you many years to become attuned to your powers. What is surprising, however, are Azriel's feelings for her. They're obvious and plain to see and could you blame him? Elain is wonderful...and you can't help but compare yourself to her. She's everything you're not.
Upon your arrival, you had been set on making Azriel fall for you. That was, until, you realized he was already entangled in the threads of another's heart. Could it be that the Suriel, in his all knowing wisdom, purposefully shielded you from such revelations about your mate? To delay the shattering of your dreams?
Now, you were just content to focus on your task at hand. To help Elain the way the Suriel did with you, even if Azriel was there as a safety net for her every session. Even if the way he was well attuned to every shift of her expression sent a sharp pain stabbing through your heart. He was blissfully unaware of your connection, clouded by his affection for Elain.
And you were tired of chasing after males. It's why you shot down Feyre's suggestion of confessing to Azriel. You dreamed of having a mate, pleaded to the Cauldron even. Now, you realize, that you want Azriel to like you for you. To chose you too the way Feyre did with Rhysand. If Elain was the person he chose at the moment, then so be it.
"I don't chase. I attract," you told Feyre. The same words you had uttered to the Suriel years ago after he poked fun at you over a failed romance. One of many, unfortunately.
"The only thing you'll attract with that attitude of of yours is a dark cloud of shadows," The Suriel had laughed at you, earning an icy glare from you.
But Feyre is much nicer about it than your dear old friend. She gives you an encouraging smile instead and wishes you luck on your upcoming session with Elain.
Your session with Elain ends terriblyâwith her screaming in pain and Azriel glaring at you and telling you to go, despite your attempts at apologizing. You spend the following days, weeks even, trying to make up for it. You slowed down in pace in your exercises with Elain, despite her protests. She held no animosity toward you at the dark turn that session had made.
You also buried yourself into any book you could find about seers in the magnificent Night Court library, grieving and longing for the Suriel. He would know what to do, and know exactly how to help. Itâs the mere thought of him that fuels your determination to keep trying, despite how much you want to leave. Itâs laughable almost, how in the midst of so many people, the sense of loneliness weighs heavier on you than it ever did in the solitude of Prythian's forests.
But perhaps, a break wouldn't be such a bad idea? You think as your gaze lands on an intriguing cover. It's a work of pure fiction. The ideal escape from reality. Retrieving it from its shelf, you settle into one of the plush chairs and immerse yourself into the words etched onto the pages.
âWake up, sleeping beauty.â
A nudge against your leg startles you awake, and as you blink away the remnants of sleep, your eyes widen at the sight of Azriel standing before you. Sleeping beauty, the words sink in, painting a soft blush over your cheeks.
âYou missed dinner.â
âOh.â
You turn your head, wincing at the dull ache in your neck from sleeping in an awkward position. The soft glow of the moon greets you through one of the library's windows. You donât know when you had fallen asleep but you mustâve been out for hours. When you face Azriel again, your gaze drops to his hands, where he holds a carefully arranged plate of food. Your stomach growls as the scent hits you and your eyes linger on the generous serving of potatoesâyour favoriteâin comparison to the other vegetables and meat.
âIs that for me?â you ask, and immediately curse yourself for the seemingly silly question. You blame it on the lingering grasp of sleep, still reluctant to release its full grip on you.
"No, it's for the rats that come out at night," he replies, lips twitching upwards at the reaction it stirs from you. How the Suriel never scared you but a couple of hairy, smaller creatures do is beyond you. He places the plate on the small table beside you.
 "Yes, it's for you. A peace offering. For snapping at you."
"That was two weeks ago.â
"Bet you didn't see it coming," he teases, and you find yourself blinking in surprise. The Shadowsinger cracking a joke? It's a sight to behold. At least for you.Â
Your eyes narrow. "Did Feyre send you?"
"No," Azriel replies simply, his tone carrying a sincerity that sets a flicker of hope alight in you. He then sighs. "I just realized I haven't been the most welcoming, that's all."
You smile in response and shift in your seat as you turn your body towards the food. The movement has the book in your lap falling. His hand reaches the book before yours could and the brush of your skin against his sends a delightful shudder through your body.
His eyes curiously look over the title and when he hands it back to you, you take note of the way he avoids looking at his scarred fingers. So you reach forward and brush your fingers against his again, letting them linger for a beat longer than before. Surprise flickers in his hazel eyes as he meets your gaze, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.
âThat book is one of my favorites," he says, his shadows dancing across his shoulders and peeking curiously at you. "I'm surprised you're into the mystery genre."
"Why?"
âWell, youâre hard to read sometimes. Like a mystery that refuses to be solved.â
An arched brow is your response, but the gleam in your eyes gives away more than you'd like. âMaybe I donât want to be unraveled.â
Azriel's lips twitch upwards once more. âMaybe it just takes the right person.â
Bathed in the glow of sunlight, you and Elain sit across from one another on the soft bed of green grass. Meanwhile, Azriel leans against a tree, a couple of feet away. His gaze is intense as he watches you two. Too focused on not letting it faze you, you fail to catch the way it softens when he turns to you.
Azriel canât help but frown when he catches you avoiding his gaze. He wonders if you still harbor some resentment toward the way he had snapped at you awhile back, even though he already apologized for it.
"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," he hears you instruct softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?â
Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration. âI can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.â
âGood,â you say and though her eyes remain closed, you smile gently at her. A gesture that sends a rush of warmth through him.
âNow feel the whispers of the unseen.â
âI canât.â Elainâs eyebrows furrow.
âHere, take my hands,â you say as you reach for hers. âImagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. Iâll guide you to where your visions will manifest.â
Elain does as told. The world stills around you two. You close your eyes. As Elainâs eyebrows relax, your own face contorts in concentration. Azriel feels himself tense when he realizes itâs not concentration etching onto your faceâitâs pain. In a heartbeat, heâs kneeling before you and prying your hands apart.
âStop!â
Your eyes snap open at the sudden disconnection, and Azriel is unsettled by the way you shrink back from him, panic widening your eyes.
âIâm not hurting her!â
But itâs not Elain heâs worried about. He hasnât even spared her a glance. Itâs youâyouâre the one thatâs hurt. Blood trickles down your nose and heâs urging you to lean forward, gently guiding you with his hands as Elain rushes for a towel.
âAre you okay?â
Thereâs a dull ache in your head but also one in your heart and youâre too disoriented to stop yourself from saying, âIf you stop staring at me like that, I will be.â
Azriel releases a soft chuckle, his muscles relaxing in relief at the playful edge in your tone. Yet, his shadows, wanting to confirm you're okay themselves, flutter toward you in a delicate cloud of darkness.
"Like what?â
âDonât make me answer that.â
And youâve never felt more relief at the sight of Elain coming in between you with a towel in hand.
A sudden sound has you stirring from your sleep. Your hand instinctively slides under your pillow, fingers grasping for the dagger you always keep with you when sleeping. The sound comes again and your initially alarmed body relaxes as you recognize it as the sound of someone knocking. Wrapping a robe around your night shift, you head toward the door, expecting Elain on the other side.Â
Upon opening your door, youâre surprised to find Azriel standing on the other side.
âYouâre not going to Starfall?â
âGood morning to you too.â
Azrielâs eyes rake over your form, taking in your disheveled state. His lips curl into a faint smile. "It's noon," he observes in an amused manner.
Your eyes widen in disbelief, and you pivot your head toward the clock that hangs on the wall of your room. There, confirming his statement, the hands point a half hour past twelve. You overslept. You didnât have any plans today and it seems your exhausted body took advantage of it.
âIs everything okay?â
His voice, laced with genuine concern, draws your attention back to him. The soft furrow of his brow and the warmth in his eyes catch you off guard. You hesitate. You donât want to lie but you also donât want to burden him with the truth.
So you settle for a, âWhy?â
"I've noticed you haven't been sleeping much," he remarks, and before you can interrupt, he gestures toward his room, the one adjacent to yours. A silent acknowledgment that he's been more attentive than you realized. It pulls at the strings of your heart. "Or attending family dinners, and now Feyre tells me you're not going to Starfall?"
The weight of his observations presses on you. You didnât think anyone had noticed. "Why do you care?" you retort, your words sharper than intended, and a wince follows.
"Isolation is not a good coping method," he responds, his tone steady and unfazed by your sharpness. "Trust me, I know."
"I don't have a dress."Â The words escape your lips, but even as you say them, you recognize the feebleness of the excuse.
âIâll buy you one.â
Heat rises to your cheeks, and you feel a telltale blush spreading as the thought of Azriel buying you a dress takes root. Heâs just being nice, you tell yourself. His gaze remains fixed on you, hazel eyes bright and gleaming with curiosity, as if daring you to come up with another excuse.
âStarfall is tomorrow.â
Azriel grins at you. It sends a flutter through your heart and you wonder if he can hear the erratic beat of it.Â
âBetter make haste and get dressed then. Weâve got a couple of hours before the shops close.â
You deliberately take extra time getting ready, a mix of anticipation and apprehension swirling within you as you prepare to spend time with Azriel. Half-expecting a hint of annoyance, you finally open the door to your room, only to find Azriel with a welcoming smile that has the bond in your chest humming. Still, you're met with silence at the other side.
You take a deep breath as he gestures for you to follow him. As you step outside, he offers his arm and winnows you, not wanting to waste anymore time. You both find yourselves in the bustling shopping plaza of Velaris, where the fragrance of blooming flowers and the animated chatter of people embrace you.
Elaborate Starfall-themed displays adorn the shops, enticing you inside. Suddenly, the sheer array overwhelms you, and an urge to step back washes over you. Azriel place a hand on your back, stopping you and guiding you towards one of the shops.
âWelcome!â A voice happily chirps. âHow can I help you?â
A stunning female enters your line of sight, her gaze immediately fixating on the male standing behind you. Her lips curve into a captivating smile, causing a twinge of jealousy to flicker within you. Itâs short lived as Azriel clears his throat, gently nudging you forward.
âWeâre looking for a dress for her.â Azriel speaks for you.
âSplendid! Whatâs the special occasion?â
âStarfall.â Azriel answers.
The femaleâs eyes widen, her smile morphing into a strained one. âIâm afraid Iâve sold all my best work already.â
âOh, thatâs alright. Sorry for the trouble,â you quickly reply, attempting to conceal the relief in your voice. Turning to leave, Azriel's hands land on your shoulders, directing you back to face the female.
âIâm sure we can find something in here,â Azriel reassures with a polite smile, scanning the aisles of dresses. âY/n isn't picky. Right?â
âI can be,â you mumble under your breath.
Azriel lets out a sound, what you discern as a muffled chuckle. He gives your shoulder a squeeze and then leans down toward your ear. âIf I were you, Iâd take advantage of the situation.â
You turn your head slightly and regret it immediately. It takes all your strength to hold back the shudder your body wants to give at his proximity. Heâs so close you can feel his breath fanning against your neck and you wonder what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against that sensitive skin.
It surprises you how quickly you find your voice.
âIâm going to pick the most expensive one.â
âGo ahead,â Azriel says and you can hear the smirk in his voice without having to look at him. He doesnât allow you to get another word in, urging you forward again to where the female patiently awaits for you.
She lightly grasps your arm, leading you toward a rack of dresses in various styles and colors while Azriel makes himself comfortable on the couch by the fitting room. âYou are a lucky lady,â she muses, her hands gracefully exploring the textures of her creations. âIâve had this shop for centuries and youâre the first lady the Shadowsinger has brought to me.â
A blush warms your cheeks as you divert your attention to the array of beautiful dresses. Each one is a work of art, making you question her earlier claim about not having her best work available. If these weren't her finest creations, the thought of what her best work looked like leaves you intrigued.
The female, whoâs name you learn is Willow, has you try on a couple of dresses that differ in styles. Youâre reluctant to show Azriel each one but given heâs paying for it and the only other one in this shop, you feel like he should have some say.
âDo you like it?â Willow beams at you, admiring her work.
On the fifth dress, your hands run over the tulle of the vibrant yellow skirt. The fabric feels itchy against your skin, and the color is too bold for your taste. You swear you are not trying to be picky, despite what you told Azriel earlier.Â
âI liââ
âLetâs try another?â Azriel cuts in as if sensing the lie that was about to unfold. He rises from his seat toward one of the racks and pulls out a dress that caught his eye earlier. âHow about this one?â
He holds the dress out to you, smiling softly when you take it from him. Itâs much simpler compared to the other dress youâve tried on but still just as elegant. Itâs also soft against your skin. Willow guides you back into the fitting room, deftly assisting you out of the vivid yellow dress and into the cobalt blue silk one.
âI donât know how I didnât see it before. Cobalt blue is more your color!" Willow says as she gushes over you.
Her choice of words leaves you momentarily stunned. Cobalt blue is more your color. The exact words the Suriel had spoken to you. Also, the exact same shade as Azriel's siphons. The Suriel mustâve enjoyed himself a lot when he said those words to you. That sneaky little creature... You can hear his laugh echoing through your mind.
As you finally emerge from the dressing room, Azriel canât help but stare. The fabric drapes gracefully around you, accentuating curves he hadn't noticed before. Sensing his prolonged gaze, your eyes meet his. It was him quickly averting his gaze, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure.
"This is the one. It looksâŠgood on you," he manages to say, his voice slightly strained.
âItâs 500 gold marks.â
He picks up on the teasing in your tone and the way Willow shakes her head in reassurance at him. Still, he humors you and says, âI donât care.â
Heâd pay more than 500 gold marks just to make you happy.
Azriel battled with restless thoughts that night, unable to find solace in sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, the vivid image of you in that dress invaded his mind. He couldnât wait to see you in that dress again. Maybe then, heâd have the courage to compliment you better.
As the sun dipped below the horizon and the first guests arrived for the Starfall celebration, Azriel's eyes eagerly scanned the gathering crowd, seeking a glimpse of you. Just as a twinge of disappointment crept in, his shadows stirred, signaling your proximity. His wings twitched with anticipation, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. You are absolutely stunning. Breathtaking.Â
In an instant heartbeat, heâs pushing Cassian, who was ready to fly you up to the House of Wind, aside. With a warning look, Cassian steps away with a chuckle.
"You're here," he whispers, a blend of disbelief and relief saturating his breath.
âWell a very nice male spent a lot of money for me to be here.â
âWell Iâm glad.â Azriel chuckles, eyes drinking you in again. Savoring you. âYouâre beautiful.â
âSo are you.â
Azriel flushes at the unexpected compliment and his shadows to come to life around him. He smiles at you. âShall we?â
He waits for your nod before carefully hooking an arm beneath your knees, eyes never leaving yours. A thrill courses through him as he revels in the sensation of your arms around his neck, taking delight in the way you feel in his arms. His wings unfurl behind him, preparing for the short flight up. The sound has your eyes fluttering shut, arms tightening around him and face burying into his neck. He finds it absolutely endearing. He never wants to let you go.
Against his wishes, the flight up to the balcony was short. He sets you down, helping you regain your footing, a lingering touch before reluctantly releasing you. Thereâs still more guests he, unfortunately, has to fly up. Itâs as if you sense his internal conflict because youâre turning around to face him, eyes bright and alight.
âYes, Azriel. Iâll save you a dance.â
The way his name rolls off your tongue sends a thrill up his spine. He opens his mouth to say something but once again, you beat him to it.
"Thought I'd save you the question," you stated, an all-knowing grin gracing your features as you tapped the corner of one of your eyes. Ah, so you had a vision of him. He wonders about the other glimpses you might have seen.
He doesnât have too much time to dwell on it as Elain is rushing toward you, showering you with compliments. He takes that as his cue to depart. He is determined to finish his tasks in bringing the remaining guests up as fast as he can so that he can return to you and that dance you promised.
Azriel finds himself stealing glances whenever he thinks you wonât notice. The sparkle in your eyes, the way the dress accentuates your featuresâhe can't look away. Caught up in the melody of your laughter, provoked by something Elain said, Azriel and his shadows are too mesmerized in the beauty of you to notice Feyre approaching until she speaks.
"Sheâs beautiful," Feyre remarks, her eyes following the same path as Azriel's gaze.
A soft affirmation escapes Azriel's lips. "Yes."
Feyre, well aware of the answer, delves further. "You bought her that dress?"
âYes.â
A mischievous gleam flickers in Feyre's eyes as she delivers her next statement. "You like her."Â
Azriel's response slips out before he can even grasp the depth of his own admission. "Yes."
He turns to Feyre, his wide eyes betraying the shock of his own revelation. A slight pallor washes over his skin, and Feyre chuckles at his reaction. Sensing the tension in the air, she rests a reassuring arm on his shoulder. âI like her too,â she confesses.
Though, both of them recognize that Azriel's feelings for you run deeper and in more intricate ways than Feyre's own fondness.
âI offered her a place in this court. She said sheâd think about it. Maybe you can convince her? The same way you convinced her to come to Starfall,â Feyre says and then with one last pat on his shoulder, she makes her way back toward Rhysand.
Still recovering from the revelation of his own feelings, it takes a while longer for the weight of Feyreâs words to sink in. A mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and a flicker of hope plays out across his features. You werenât planning on staying? The thought of you leavingâleaving him stirs a feeling in his chest. His eyes seek you out again but youâre no longer standing beside Elain. Â
In your place, stands Lucien and normally the sight would trigger dark emotions from him. But now? He feels nothing. Thereâs no sense of envy. His affections have shifted elsewhere.
Azrielâs shadows fall to the floor, slithering against the cool tile like serpents of the night. They lead the way directly to where you stand, by the champagne table. He makes his way toward you and you're downing the rest of the liquid in your glass.
âAzriel.â You smile at him.
âItâs time for you to fulfill the promise you made me.â
âOf course,â you reply, offering him your hand.
Azriel gracefully pulls you into his embrace. One hand wraps around yours while the other rests on your waist. The enchanting melody guides your movements as the two of you glide across the floor.
âFeyre told me she offered you a role in this court.â
Your eyes, wise and mysterious, meet his, and he feels your body tense under his hold. âWhat else did she tell you?â
âThat youâd think about it,â he says, the rhythm of the dance allowing for a moment of ease to settle between you. âYou should stay.â
âWhy?â
A wistful expression colors your features and the soft glow of stars are reflected in your eyes. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of his hold before the next song begins.
âThereâs no one here for me.â You admit and then give a small laugh as you look down. There's a deep, haunting sadness to your laughter, striking a chord within him.
âIâm right here.âÂ
Lifting your head back up, your eyes search his for something with a glimmer of hope. An eternity seems to pass in your gaze. A frown settles over your lips and he feels a tinge of sadness. Whatever you sought, it seems you did not find it.
Suppressing the surge of emotions within him, his hand reaches for yours again. He guides you to somewhere more private, toward one of the balconies that is off limits to the guests. âTalk to me,â he says, his words carrying an invitation for you to unburden your heart.
Your hands grip onto the railing before you and attention is directed up towards the night sky. He mirrors your actions, resting his hands close to yours. So close he can feel your warmth but not close enough to touch.
"It feels weird being here," you sigh deeply. "My mother and I used to sneak out of Hewn City on Starfall just to catch a glimpse of these migrating spirits every year...until she realized what I was. She said I was a curse, said she would turn me into Keir and let him have his way with me if I didn't leave."
Azriel's fingers clench into a white knuckled grip at your words.
"Not that leaving a horrible city such as Hewn was exactly a punishment. It was probably for the best. Still didn't stop me from being scared. It was the first time in my life that I was actually alone. I learned how to survive."
"I met the Suriel a year later. He must've taken pity on me and would visit me without being summoned. Sometimes, it'd be to tease me with some gossip. Other times, to annoy and chide me for my mistakes. Most importantly, he taught me how to not only survive on my own but live alone. I don't know, it's probably silly but I just felt a lot less lonely when I was actually alone than I do here."
âItâs not silly. I used to feel that way too.â Azriel admits and after a moment of silence, heâs turning toward you. âAm I not your friend?â
âI donât know,â you find yourself saying again, uncertainty clouding your expression. Pausing, you tear your gaze from the night sky to look at him. âDo you want to be?â
âYes,â Azriel smiles at you. And so much more.Â
You smile back at him but it doesnât last long. Turning your head to face directly ahead, you bite the inside of your cheek in hesitation, revealing to Azriel that thereâs more troubling you than your sense of loneliness.
âWhat else?âÂ
âThereâs nothing else.â
ây/n.â
âI feel like a failure.â
Azriel's eyes widen, his heart sinking to his stomach. âYouâre not,â he reassures quickly.
âIâI just,â you stammer, the weight of self-doubt evident in your voice. âItâs nearing four months since Iâve arrived, and I feel like Iâve barely scratched the surface with Elain.â
âHow long did it take you to harness your abilities?â
âDecades,â you respond, the admission carrying a hint of sheepishness. âBut Elain is different. This is different. I donât want to disappoint her. Disappoint Feyre. The world we know is crumbling apart, and we donât have time. Ifâif we cannot fix it before itâs too late, I will have failed him.â
âHey, look at me.â
When you donât, Azriel lightly grips your chin, coaxing your gaze to him. âYouâre here, arenât you? Youâre honoring his wish by just being here. Keep trying,â he encourages, wiping away your tears. âIâll be here with you every step of the way. Youâre not alone. Weâll face this together.â
âTogether?â
He releases his hold on you, resting his hand once more on the rail. This time, itâs even closer to yours.
âTogether,â he confirms, heart swarming with warmth when your hand bridges the gap between you and brushes against his.Â
And finally, it seems your lonely days are through.
Azrielâs been in love before. Twice. Or at least, he thought it was love. One was unrequited, a silent ache he carried within. The other was forbidden, a love he had clung to with misguided hope. He was beginning to come to the begrudging conclusion that love was simply not meant for him.
Then, you came along. Strange as it seems, you've seemed to have brought back that old feeling to him, awakening something deep inside of him. And though he doesn't know what you did, he thinks--he hopes that you could be the one. The one to possibly release him from the chains of solitude and longing.
You've rarely left his mind since the night he met you. The echoes of your first words to him lingered in his mind long after your encounter, âIâve been waiting for you.â
Your voice was cloaked in both mystery and certainty, as though you held the threads of destiny within your grasp. It prompted him to ask who you were but your answer, âthatâs for you to decideâ only gave rise to more questions.Â
Then, there was that smile. So beautiful, so hopeful. It etched itself into the recesses of his memory. It was a smile no one had ever bestowed upon him before and one he longed to see it again.
And he almost ruined it allâthat day he snapped at you after a session gone wrong with Elain. Your intentions were always pure. He knew this. No one was at fault as everything that transpired between you and Elain was completely consensual. But the scream that tore through Elain sent him in a heightened frenzy. He had sworn to Rhysand and Feyre, his High Lord and High Lady, that he would protect Elain. Before he could properly assess the situation, he had roughly pushed you aside with a growl. The hurt that flashed in your eyes in response haunted him nearly every night.
You began to actively avoid his gaze and presence whenever possible, and guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. Even his shadows, missing your attention, seemed angry with him. Truth be told, he was angry with himself too. You had made friends with everyone. Everyone but him.
The following two weeks became a series of futile attempts at groveling, your obliviousness to it all cutting deeper than he cared to admit. The breaking point came when you missed dinner, and he knew it was time to set things right then. So he sent his shadows to look for you and when they reported back to him that you were sleeping in the library, he brought your dinner to you.
After that moment, the atmosphere between you two shifted. He became the chaser, gradually closing the distance between you.
You looked his way more, approached him with a newfound openness, and your conversations became more frequent. You teased him at times, even, with your cryptic words. But rather than frustrating him, it only made him seek you out more. He wanted to be the one to unravel the mystery that was you.
Somewhere down the line, his eyes stopped searching for Elain's. The private moments he sought with her became mere echoes of the pastâno more lingering touches, exchanged glances, or pointless conversations. Instead, it was you who occupied the center of his attention, infiltrating his dreams and igniting desires he never knew he harbored.
You eased him like no other, effortlessly coaxing smiles and laughter from him. It was in these moments that the realization struck him like a bolt of lightningâhe had never truly been in love during the first two instances. What he felt for you was different. He was unwilling to let his feelings linger in the shadows, as they had done before. He yearned for them to step into the light. To be acknowledged and acted upon openly.
He decided to wait until after Solstice to confess to you and hoped that your visions wouldn't give him away.
Laughter and clinks of wine glasses ring through the air. Azriel knows itâs time to open presents, his shadows singing loudly and overwhelming him with information. Cassian is sneaking a peak. Rhysand is rolling his eyes. Elain got Lucien a present. y/n is holding back tears.
Azriel tenses at the last bit of information, eyes immediately finding you. Youâre seated beside Feyreâthe two of you exchanging smiles. Thereâs an unwrapped present on your lap and his shadows dart toward it. Itâs a small portrait of the Suriel. He hears you thank Feyre and he swears he can feel your ache of grief. He moves to stand from his seat but Elain stops him.
âHappy Solstice,â she says, holding out a small present. He takes the box albeit reluctantly but politely and opens it to find two tickets to an upcoming play.Â
Elain smiles at the frown heâs trying to hide.
"Elain, I can't--"
âY/n mentioned always wanting to go see a play. I thought maybe you could be the one to take her. After you confess."
His eyes search hers for any traces of hurt. Heâs relieved when he finds none but the frown in his brow remains. âHowââ
âShe trained me well," Elain replies, eyes shining with an all knowing gleam he's seen in yours. "She deserves to be happy. You both do and something tells me that sheâs the one youâve been waiting for.â
Gods, you and Elain have been hanging out so much with one another that now sheâs beginning to talk like you. There's a tightening in his chest, like a band about to snap at her words.
Azriel looks back at Elain in question but she only smiles at him once more before retreating back to where she was sitting previously. Next to Lucien, who also sends a smile his way.
Looking down at the tickets, he thinks of you again. His shadows stir, mirroring the strange sensation in his chest. Itâs almost like a pull and his shadows guide him toward it, turning his head for him. Just in time to catch a glimpse of you quietly slipping away from the festivities. His steps quicken as he follows you, pulling his coat along with him.
The soft flakes of snow flutter down, a delicate dance in the winter night. Despite weeks of continuous snowfall, the enchanting beauty of it never fails to captivate you. It differs markedly from the unforgiving snowstorms you endured while wandering the Night Court's forests. Though just as cold, it prompts an involuntary shiver, a reaction to the biting chill in the air.
As the door behind you creaks open, a rush of warmth accompanies its movement. The scent of cedar invades your senses, growing more intense as you feel a fabric drape over your shoulders, bringing forth an intimate warmth.
"Hey," Azriel breathes, a visible puff of white escaping his lips.
"Hi," you smile back at him, your fingers instinctively reaching for the coat that draped over your shoulders. You can't help but notice the thin sweater he wears. "Won't you be cold, though?"
Azriel stops you, securing his coat back onto your smaller frame with a reassuring smile. âI grew up in a camp where it snowed a lot more than this. Iâll be fine.â
You look back up at the night sky. The stars are shining so bright. It makes you wonder if they ever tire. They seem to answer you as their radiant beams cast a celestial glow upon you. Your vision blurs in surrender.
âWhat are you seeing?â Azriel inquires, curious. He hopes it's not the confession he's aching to spill.
Your eyebrows knit together, and you close your eyes, immersing yourself in deciphering the messages woven between the stars. Upon opening your eyes, you turn to Azriel, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.
âYou're going to get frostbite."
Azriel lets out an amused huff. "I don't care. As long as you're warm."
"We should head back inside," you suggest.
"No," Azriel insists, enfolding a wing around your form, anchoring you in place. His shadows can sense you don't want to go back inside yet. "I like being alone with you."
The wind nips at your cheeks, a sensation you welcome as it gives the perfect excuse for the blush creeping across your face. Tearing your gaze away from Azriel before he can discern his effect on you, you quietly share, "Nyx is going to say his first word in three days."
Azriel leans forward and you can feel his anticipation. A familial bet circulates among his uncles and aunts (save for Elain) regarding what the young heirâs first word will be. âWhat is it?â
âCas.â
Azriel can't resist glancing back toward the house, his eyes narrowing with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. There, he catches a fleeting glimpse of Cassian playfully hoisting Nyx in the air, the two engaged in a lively game of chase around the living room. When he turns his attention back to you, mischief twinkles in your eyes.
âYouâre lying.â
âYou fell for it."
And that smile heâs been longing for since he met you graces your lips as you laugh. A sweet and beautiful sound that warms the winter air. Azriel's gaze dips toward your lips, captivated by the sound, before lifting back to meet your eyes. He leans in even closer.
âI fell for you.â
You also lean in, eyes never leaving his. "The answer is yes."
"What?"
Azriel nearly stumbles back, caught off guard, but you remain close, lifting a hand and cradling his cheek. It's surprisingly warm and he instinctively leans into your touch. His eyes widen. Did youâ
âTo you taking me on a date,â you reveal, your smile deepening, and he swears his shadows snicker in response. âThe vision I just saw. It was of me and you at a theater. Next Friday at seven.â
âNext Friday at seven,â Azriel confirms, a tender affection lighting up his expression.
The air seems to shimmer with the promise of an enchanting future. You reach out, tugging at the bond in your chest. Once again, there is only silence. Yet, you canât bring yourself to care anymore. Not when Azriel is gazing at you as though you are the very stars illuminating the night sky.
And then you're kissing him.
The snow crunches underfoot as Azriel moves, his usually keen senses dulled. His mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you. Even as the icy missiles fly past him, Azriel remains lost in the memories of shared glances and smiles and the way your lips felt so perfect against his last night.
For the first time in years, Azriel finds himself on the losing side of the annual snowball fight. Oddly, no disappointment lingers, even after meticulous planning for this anticipated victory. All he wants is to return homeâto you.
Amidst the snowy chaos, revelation strikes him simultaneously with a snowball from Rhysand. The snap, the bondâeverything falls into place. It all makes sense now. Your words when you first met. Elainâs words last night at Solstice. Why your presence thrilled and delighted him. Why he couldn't shake the feeling of love and adoration for you.
You are his mate.Â
The one he had been longing and pleading for, and the realization left him breathless. He shakes the snow from his face and Rhysand blinks back at him in surprise. The High Lord had been expecting a glare but he only finds pure shock on Azrielâs face.
âOh come on, I didnât hit you that hard,â he teases.
âI have to go.â
âIf you leave, youâre forfeiting,â warns Cassian, but the glint in his eye betrays a desire for Azriel to leave, eager for a victory.
âI yield,â Azriel says mindlessly, surprising even Rhysand. Feeling his friend's talons probing his mind, Azriel throws up his shields and disappears into his shadows, abandoning the snow-covered battlefield. He'll explain later.
For now, he has to find you.
His shadows winnow him back to the River house and he doesnât have to look for long because there you are, making your way down the last step and standing in his path. Thereâs not much that surprises you but that has changed since meeting Azriel and this moment is no different. Your eyes are widening, mouth parting.
âAzriel," you say. "What are you doing here? I thought you wereââ
âItâs you,â Azriel interrupts breathlessly as if he was running, chest rising and falling quickly in step with the erratic beating of his heart. Heâs bridging the distance between you. âAll this time. Itâs been you.â
You swallow thickly. âYou know?â
The glimmer of hope that had ignited during Starfall returns to your eyes, revealing a world he hadnât realized existed. How could he have been so blind?
Azriel smiles at you and itâs as if thatâs the last piece to the puzzle as the bond between you both comes to life, singing loudly against your chests. He pulls you flush against him and spins you around, eliciting a delightful squeal from you. Cradling your face in his hands, he kisses your forehead, then the corners of your eyes. He saves your lips for last, lingering in the sweet taste of them for a moment longer.
âYouâre my mate,â he says quietly, leaning his forehead against yours.
âYes,â you manage to whisper back, surrendering yourself to the depths of his mesmerizing hazel eyes, just like in the vision from months ago. And itâs not you who speaks again but Azriel.
âIâve been waiting for you.â
a/n: hope you all enjoyed this (: It took me longer to write than I thought because i'm used to writing more angst for Az than fluff but I wanted this to be different. It's canon that Elain found out that reader and Az were mates through a vision around the same time she decided to give Lucien a chance. I just want them all to be happy ⥠in terms of my ABBA x ACOTAR series, I think I'll work on another one for Cas next inspired by Honey, Honey. If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know!
tagging: @hellodarling1357
if you want to read more about Az x Seer reader, I wrote a couple of bonus scenes that didn't quite make the final cut. You can read them here.
#azriel x reader#azriel imagine#azriel shadowsinger#acotar imagine#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel acotar#azriel fluff#azriel angst#azriel fanfic#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#acotar x y/n#abba x acotar
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the beginning - danny
0.
The Lazarus Pit brings Danny back.
The child who went into them, however, is gone forever.
Danyal al Ghul is the soul who should reside in this body. Danyal has a life still to live and Danny died ages ago, old and surrounded by loved ones, ready to spend the rest of his forever in the Infinite Realms.
Something's gone terrible wrong, he thinks rather wryly, squinting through the cold green water that surrounds him. An ache echoes through his body and he brings a handâsmall, a child's hand that shouldn't belong to himâ to his stomach, where he can feel a large wound slowly pull itself together.
Did I get stabbed?
He means to continue the thought, but a sharp pain hits his head, making him curl up. He gasps and air bursts from his lungs, water rushing to fill in the empty space. Danny chokes, panicking, as memories slide into place, the lives of Danyal al Ghul and Danny Fenton fighting for dominance in his head. His lungs burn, throat working futilely to push water out, but there's nothing to be done.
Danny is a child again, and just like last time, he dies young.
1. So.
Assassins.
Danny honestly can't tell if this is a step up or a step down from mad scientist parents. On the one hand: he knows they loved him, as clumsy as it was, even though they loved their work more. On the other hand: assassin cult sounds like something out of a fairy tale, and while cool, is definitely not safe for kids.
And Danny, somehow, is a child again.
This really wasn't what he expected when he woke up on the sandy bottom of the pit. He's in ghost form, which is an unpleasant shock, but at least its familiar.
He is also, if his memory as Danyal serves him correctly, nine years old.
Kinda sucks that he died so young this time round. Didn't even make it to the double digits before he was taken out of the running.
He can't remember what it was like being so small in his last life. He can't imagine how anyone would look at a child and run them through with a sword. It's a cruel world he's woken up in. It's made worse by the fact that he's alone.
At least being down here without needing to breathe is giving him valuable time to think.
Danny has lived a full life already. He didn't really need or want another one, content to be a full ghost in the Infinite Realms. But going back isn't really an option, now that he's in a new body. The kid he could have been deserves to live fully, and the least Danny can do is live that life for them.
It'll be hard, but Danny's sure he can manage a decent life for himself.
Being presumed dead will make his escape from the assassins easier, though he'll miss getting the chance to meet his new mother; assassin as she is, Danyal knows her not by her blades but by her soft lullabies and jasmine-scented hair. The loss of her child must be hurting her deeply, but it's necessary. If Danny wants any semblance of a normal life, he has to leave her behind.
Besides, he's seen enough death. He doesn't want to ever be the cause of it.
So, he needs a plan for this new life.
Step one: get out of dodge.
The rest he'll figure out on the way.
2.
Turns out assassins weren't the most shocking thing in this new life.
No, that honor goes to superheroes.
Genuine, honest to God superheroes! With powers and everything!
To think that Danny once called himself a superhero. Ha! As if! He's nothing compared to the likes of Superman or the Flash or even Green Lantern. They're in another league. Literally. They're part of the Justice League, which has a whole slew of other heroes, and Danny is possibly their biggest fan.
Not like that's weird; most people in this world are huge fans of superheroes. Makes sense, since they're the ones who rely on their protection the most.
It does suck to know that his background belongs to that of a villain. Assassins aren't known for saving people, after all.
Part of him contemplates becoming a hero again, taking up the role of Phantom and joining the ranks of Superman. But he's had many years to come to terms with the loss of his teenage years and the bitterness that came with it. That experience, that life once lived, helps him decide each time that being a civilian is the gift this life owes him.
At thirteen, Danny lives in a foster home with six other kids. He's the oldest and has his hands full taking care of everyone else while their foster parents work three jobs between them to keep them all afloat.
When his younger siblings play superheroes, he gladly takes the role of the villain, swooping in with a blanket to kidnap away an innocent bystander that has to be rescued. He falls over dramatically at the end of each fight and praises his siblings' strength and teamwork, making them puff up with pride.
It's all fun and games so long as it only stays fun and games.
Superpowers are cool and all, but his came at the cost of his life, his health, his future. He knows, better than anyone, the price of being a hero. He knows that even Superman carries heavy losses on his shoulders, struggles under burdens no one can see.
He's lucky that the small town he ended up inâLuray, Virginiaâhas no heroes or villains. Too small a place to be on anyone's radar, apparently.
His classmates often complain about how they wish they could live in a big city where there's more to do, more to see, superheroes flying through the streets to protect them.
Danny is happy where he is. It's quiet, and small, and nothing like what he's used to, but it's safe.
That's all he really wants.
3.
Here's something that stays the same no matter what world he's in: Danny is a magnet for trouble.
If the trouble stopped at bullies, everything would have been fine. Danny could handle Dash, and he could handle Justin just as easily.
But the universe loves to escalate with Danny, specifically, which is why Danny had to reveal his powers when some villain-wannabe school shooter attacked his high school.
And to think he felt bad for Jackson when he didn't make it onto the track team.
Luray does not have a meta population. They're too small to have much of a population at all, and much of it is white which made him, half-Iranian, stand out even before he threw out a barrier of ice to protect his classmates a second before the gunfire began.
"Danny?!" his seatmate, Clarrissa, cries out in alarm.
"Everyone get out the window and run for it!" he orders, "I hold him back as much as I can!"
"You can't stay here!"
"Don't worry," Danny says, offering her a tight smile. "He couldn't kill me even if he tried. Now go!"
His classmates hadn't wasted any more time, sending him shocked looks as they escaped the classroom. A glimpse of his reflection in the window revealed glowing green eyes and blue mist wafting out of his mouth.
Looks like his time in Luray is up. He hopes his foster siblings won't be too mad at him for running away.
The gunfire stops, and Danny takes his chance to leap through his ice, intangible, and tackle Jackson, easily knocking the gun away from him.
"Monster!" Jackson spits at him, and Danny laughs.
"Bold of you to say that. I'm not to one trying to kill people."
He doesn't want to hear anything else that comes out of Jackson's mouth, so he knocks the guy out with a solid hit to a pressure point on his neck. Hopefully that'll keep him down long enough for the cops to get him.
Danny stands and means to leave, but something hits the back of his head hard and he's out before he realizes what's happened.
When he wakes up, he's strapped down to a table in what is undeniably a lab, and sighs.
At least he made it to sixteen before he went into another lab. Maybe in his next life he might even get all the way up to twenty before he's pulled back down here.
4. Though he has all his powers and a ghost form, that doesn't mean he is a ghost in this life.
No, he's fully a meta, which means meta-suppressing cuffs work on him.
It's not exactly a discovery he was hoping to have while locked up in a lab, but it's what he's got, so he has to roll with it. The cuffs are heavy on his wrists and around his throat, keeping him from escaping as a group of people in masks and lab coats bustle around, ignoring him.
His head is still foggy, though likely more from the drugs than the hit he took to his head.
He doesn't bothering talking to any of them; they don't see him as human, and Danny's dealt with enough of that in his past life.
Mad scientists love to talk though, so he still hears the gist of their plans: recreating the meta gene for normal people, making a profit from selling powers, getting rich and famous from their accomplishments. They had been using Jackson to get corpses for human testing, but they got Danny instead â someone they can harvest bio material for, a much better find than a couple dead kids.
If he had the energy to rage, Danny would have killed everyone in the room already. They planned to kill his classmates just for test subjects.
He doesn't want to be an assassin, but he'd gladly lean into those old lessons to make sure they never hurt anyone again.
But the cuffs and drugs do a good job of keeping him docile, barely able to think, as they transport him around to different locations and cut him open.
He's not sure how long it's been when they ease up on the drugs a bit. It still takes time for his body to work through everything, and he comes too with a throat that's dry and a stomach that hasn't had anything in it for quite some time.
The first thing Danny does when they start asking him questions is throw up on them.
If they wanted cooperation, they should have treated him better. This is fully on them.
It makes for a convincing argument for food and water and a bathroom break, at least, so he gets what he demands and takes care of his human body under the cold gazes of three scientists.
"You guys suck," he says conversationally. "Keeping test subjects alive is like basic knowledge. No wonder y'all suck at your jobs."
"Your comments aren't needed," one of the scientists says primly. "Get up. We need to study how using your powers affects your body."
They hook a bunch of different things onto him, then lock him in a glass cage and use the cuff around his throat to send jolts of electricity through him when he doesn't do anything. He throws a chunk of ice at them, watching as it breaks apart into small pieces when it hits the glass. The scientists scribble in their notepads, and when they look at him again, he flips them off.
He gets shocked again, but it's worth it.
The process repeats for another few hours, then he's pulled out of the cage, gets an IV stuck in his arm, and drops off into drugged oblivion before he has time to start throwing hands.
5.
It must have been months. Danny's not sure; it's hard to keep track of time when locked in isolation.
He knows he's fed at least once a day. He's been getting a tray of bland food at random times, but he's counted over 50 trays sliding through the little slot on the bottom of his cell door.
Turns out insulting scientists and their procedures is a bad idea, especially when he has the language to really bruise their egos.
So.
Isolation sucks.
But at least they don't drug him anymore!
The cuffs do their job of keeping him in place, and if he didn't have memories of another life to keep him company, he definitely would have lost his mind long ago.
There's other people in here, other metas. He's heard them screaming and begging for mercy. He's heard them go chillingly quiet. He wonders why there are so many superheroes in this world when not a single one has come to save them.
Surely at least one would notice metas disappearing and would investigate?
But no.
No one ever comes to save them.
So Danny needs to figure out a way past the cuffs, and then he can be Phantom again long enough to free the other metas and make every scientist involve pay for their crimes.
He just needs to wait.
He just needsâ
6.
When Danny wakes up, the alarms are ringing. It makes his head pound, throbbing with each piercing sound.
He stumbles up, using the wall to keep his balance, and freezes when he sees that the door to his cell is open.
âŠHuh.
The hallway is bathed in red light when he steps out. No one's around. He wanders around the facility, searching for answers and only finds more questions.
There are other cells, also empty. Certain rooms have blood splattered across the walls and the floor, but no bodies. Labs are destroyed, broken glass on the floor. But every room is empty.
He wanders until he finds what must be a security room. There's a strange device dangling off a keychain on a rack, and Danny eyes it curiously. He runs his fingers around the cuff on his throat, feels the little depression where the collar comes together, and takes the rounded device. If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work.
But if it does workâŠ
The cuff pops open easily, as if it hasn't been his greatest foe these past few months.
All at once, his strength returns to him. He has forgotten what it was like to breathe easily, to feel his powers come to his call so easily, to be reassured that he can take care of himself.
It's almost like coming back to life.
He transforms, settling back into his ghost form with relief, and flies through the facility in search of any other metas that may need help. He finds no one, but he does catch a glimpse of the outside.
The sky is so blue it almost hurts to look at. Part of the facility has been blown apart; rubble surrounds the place and the surrounding forest has been flattened. It looks as though a fight has moved through the area.
Maybe a superhero did come to save them? Rude of them to leave only Danny, though.
He continues his search, poking his head into different rooms and hallways. He finds a staircase going down and follows it into the basement. More labs greet him, and the glow of computers and strange vials of liquid leave him unsettled.
There's a green glow coming around the corner than reminds him of the Lazarus Pit he flew out of, once upon a time many years ago, and that's what draws him forward.
Tucked away in that familiar glow is a small body, floating in a tube of liquid. There's an oxygen mask attached to her face, but that doesn't stop Danny from recognizing her.
"Ellie?"
7.
Just like in one life, Danny is cloned. The difference is that this time, there's no reason for it, no insane godfather trying to recreate a version of him that will choose him.
No, this time it's from a group of scientists who should have known better, who decided to mess around with his genes, and brought his once little sister now daughter into such a cruel, dangerous world.
Danny barely remembers breaking the glass to get her out of there. He doesn't know where he found the coat to bundle her up in, flying out of the facility as fast as he could. He feels sick, knowing it's his fault that she's here now, forced into a painful, terrifying existence because he wasn't strong enough to save himself.
He's a runaway meta victim of mad science. He can't take care of her.
"I'm sorry, Ellie," he whispers to her, pressing a kiss against her head. "I'm so sorry."
She small in his arms. She barely weighs anything.
Danny blinks back tears and tries to find some place he can stop and rest, somewhere safe he can gather his thoughts and figure out his next steps.
This isn't like when he first woke up in this world, with both sets of memories.
This is Ellie.
She deserves more than just a wish and a half-baked plan for a better life.
She deserves a family that wants her, that can care for her, that can protect her. She deserves to grow up normally and not worry about destabalizing or being a replacement for him or being hunted down.
She deserves one life to be a kid and grow up safe and be whoever she wants to be.
Danny will never be able to give her that.
But maybe he can give her to someone who can.
8.
Danyal grew up with an assassin mother and a cruel grandfather who expected far too much from a child. He was taught to kill and be more weapon than child. He was taught the world was something for him to take, to protect, to water with blood.
Danyal was meant to be the next Demon Head, and the next Bat.
Danny knows he can't go to his mother. If they're both lucky, he will never have to see her again. Knowing his luck, he's already planning explanations for why he never went back to her.
Danny's father, on the other handâŠ
It didn't take much to put the pieces together. The notorious Bat is Batman, Gotham's vigilante and one of the founders of the Justice League. While a child would have been left confused by the many comments his mother made about his father, it was simple enough for Danny to line them up with what he learned about the heroes of this world and realize, oh, that's my dad.
It takes a few weeks of research, using public libraries with Ellie tucked securely in a wrap to his chest, but he's able to learn more about Batman.
The most important thing being that he has kids.
Of course, none of this is officially acknowledged, but everyone knows that the Robins are his kids. Current Robin, especially, likes to remind people that he's 'the son of Batman'.
Okay. Cool.
Danny has siblings.
Awesome.
He's⊠not looking forward to those conversations.
At least it means more people to look after Ellie. Assuming they take her in, which Danny's really hoping for.
But it's the best he can do, so Danny sets course for Gotham and hopes that just this once, everything will work out.
9.
Meeting the Bats of Gotham is a lot harder than he expected.
A week in the city and he's barely caught more than a glimpse of them. He can't dedicate a lot of time to tracking them down either, needing to break into grocery stores to get food for him and Ellie.
She's so quiet as a baby, and it terrifies him. She's only cried twice the entire time he's had her, and Danny spends every day begging her to hold on.
Time during the day is spent catching naps and researching common vigilante spotting areas in Gotham. He's got a map of Gotham taken from a library and has been steadily marking it up, putting stars in the best places to find a Bat. There are places all over the city, and Danny has no idea how to know which ones are the best.
The only thing he can do is wait at a different rooftop each night, clinging to Ellie, wondering if this is the last night he has with her.
On the ninth night, someone finally arrives.
"Step away from the edge," a voice demands.
Danny turns to see Robin approaching, hands held out as if to catch him. He's bigger than Danny was expecting. Which makes sense; most of the stories Danny got online are from when Robin was a kid, and it's been a few years since then. He must be a teenager now. Older, but still young.
"Robin," he manages to say, his throat tightening. It feels almost like there's a noose around it. It feels like that meta-suppressing cuff has clicked back into place, leaving him helpless.
"Step away from the edge," Robin repeats. "There is no need for this to be your last resort."
"But it is," Danny whispers.
Robin darts forward and wraps a hand around Danny's wrist, yanking him towards the center of the roof. "Why on Earth would you come up here? Surely you must have known that someone would stop you."
"Batman," he gets out. "I need to speak to Batman."
"What for?"
"I'm⊠I was told, once, that I'm his son."
10. Robin stares at him for a long moment.
Then he takes off his mask.
Danny knows those eyes: he sees them every time he looks in a mirror.
"Danyal," Robin breathes. "You died before I was born."
"I did. Are you�"
"Mother told me about you."
So he has a little brother. If only he hadn't left first chance he got, he could have known his little brother, gotten away from that place before it hurt him too. Danny has made many mistakes since he arrived in this world. Missing a little brother is perhaps the worst of them.
"MotherâŠ" Danny repeats. "She put me in the Lazarus Pit. I remember that. She didn't want me to die."
"I was born to replace you."
Just like Ellie.
So many mistakes repeating. He's never felt like more of a failure.
"Batman. Our father. He treats you well? You are safe with him?"
Robins brows furrow, but he nods, which is enough for Danny. "Yes. Of course. Isn't that why you're here now?"
"I'm not asking for me." Danny carefully, gently, unwraps Ellie. "I'm asking for her. Please, take care of her. She deserves more than I can give her. Ellie⊠she'd be your niece."
Robin's eyes are wide. He's frozen until Danny pushes Ellie against his chest, forcing him to lift his arms to hold her.
"Wait, what aboutâ?"
When Robin looks up, Danny's already gone.
It's for the best.
(masterpost for all parts)
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dcxdp#dpxdc#demon brothers#dcxdp fic#the harmless series#gonna make that a full series. all posts will be part of that. heres the beginning of it all!!#reincarnation + demon brothers + baby ellie#tw human experimentation#dw there will be more#i'll have a full masterpost to add to the end of each post once i write and post the next part#which will be damian's pov and the aftermath of danny revealing himself and leaving ellie#my writing
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blank canvas. (3)
in an attempt to rekindle an already fractured relationship, you open your eyes to the harsh reality that some things, once broken, can no longer be repaired.
pairings. ryĆmen sukuna, fem!reader
genre. florist x tattoo artist au, mild angst, opposites attract
tags/warnings. strong language, degradation, explicit smut, toxic relationship
notes. 8.3k wc. hereâs the last part !! although there will still be an epilogue, which will be posted a few days from now (letâs not jinx it lol). but thank you for supporting this three-part fic :â) feedback and reblogs are most appreciated!
part 2 | epilogue
He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not.Â
Sighing, you stood behind the counter of your floral shop, absentmindedly picking on the rose petals like an infatuated teenager. It was almost ridiculous what you were doing out of boredom. And although the sweet scent of the flowers surrounding you were supposed to feel calming, it did little to lift the terrible weight on your chest.Â
Two weeks had passed since you had given your virginity to Satoru. Two weeks since you tried to move on from Sukuna.
Others might say you were too irrational with it. Others might say you did the right thing. But honestly, what was so good about having sex with a guy you barely knew when you spent years refusing to do it with your actual boyfriend?Â
Yes, you were definitely, undeniably irrational with it. You realized it all too late after you had already given your virginity to another guy. You werenât even sure what compelled you to ask Satoru to do it with you, but at the time, it felt right. It felt reasonable that you were trying to get over an ex-boyfriend, out of spite, for not setting boundaries with other women while you were still together. You thought it would be fair to play a similar part in this tragic tale, that it wouldnât be too bad not to set boundaries with other men who showed attraction to you, too.Â
After all, Sukuna had countless women constantly latching onto him, while Satoru was the first guy within your past relationship who developed an interest in you.Â
Besides, it wasnât some kind of fairytale scene when you two slept together. Because to Satoru, it was nothing but a casual encounter. He did his best to make sure that you enjoyed it from finish to end, and you appreciated his sincerity in guiding you throughout, yet you couldnât deny to yourself that all you had been thinking of at the time was Sukuna. You contrasted everything Satoru did with Sukunaâlike how Satoru was slow and sensual, while Sukuna was rough and vulgar. Satoru enjoyed cuddling afterward, whereas Sukuna would likely go straight to sleep. Satoru was too clingy and playful, while Sukuna was more reserved and mature.
The worst part was, your heart still preferred one over the other. And it wasnât the guy with the white hair and blue eyes.Â
Satoru was a good guy, and he had genuine intentions, but after being intimate with someone you werenât in love with, you understood that your potential relationship would never be as good as your previous one. You longed for a man like Sukuna, because despite his typical bad boy persona, he was anything but boring. Being with him was a thrill, and no matter how toxic it was, you were addicted to him.
And thatâs wrong. Your lips curled into a frown.Â
You glanced out the window for what felt like the hundredth time that day, your eyes drawn across the street to Sukunaâs tattoo shop. The neon sign that once buzzed with life now hung dark and lifeless. Every now and then, you could see some of his old clients passing by the shop, hoping for a chance that their favorite tattoo artist was back in business. But Sukuna still hadnât reopened the shop in days, for almost a month now as a matter of fact, and his absence filled you with a gnawing sense of worry and longing.Â
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, while that was certainly true, it also drove you crazy. Why hasnât he opened his shop? you wondered, biting your lip. Did he move out? Did he forget about me entirely?
You turned back to your flowers, but your hands stilled as your thoughts consumed you. What would Sukuna think if he knew someone else had taken your virginity? The thought made your stomach twist. You could already hear his voice telling you that you had given yourself to someone else out of desperation, but it clearly didnât work. If anything, it only made you miss him even more.
Your fingers traced the petals of a rose as memories flooded your mind. The way Sukuna used to look at you, his intense eyes softening just for you. The way his laugh would rumble through his chest when you said something funny. You missed him. You missed everything about him, even the way he could infuriate you with his arrogance.
A sigh escaped your lips as you placed the finished bouquet in a vase. The floral shop was quiet today, save for the distant hum of traffic outside. The city would be busy again during rush hour, but for now, you leaned against the counter, your gaze drifting back to the tattoo shop across. Heâs probably with his ex, you thought, feeling a lump form in your throat. Yet you couldnât help but wonder if he still thought about you. Did he miss me too? Or had he moved on completely?
You pressed your hand to your heart. You wanted to be with him. You wanted to tell him how much you missed him, how much you regretted trying to move on so quickly, how much you wished you didnât break up with him. You had no backbone when it came to Sukuna. But the fear of rejection, the fear that he no longer cared, kept you rooted in place.
Pushing yourself off the counter, you walked to the front door and flipped the sign to âClosed.â It was best to close off early today. You needed a moment to yourself, a moment to clear your head in the safety of your bedroom. But as you locked the door, you couldnât stop yourself from stealing one last glance at Sukunaâs shop. The light flickered at first, making you wonder whether you had just imagined it, but then your heart skipped a beat when you saw the lights completely turning on inside.
Your pulse quickened, and you found yourself drawn to the sight. If it was him in there, maybe this was your chance to talk and clear the air. Or maybe, it wouldnât be wrong to simply check on him since he had been away for almost a month. What if something terrible had happened to him during those past weeks? What if he had gotten sick? With hesitant steps, you eventually crossed the street and approached his shop. There, you could see him through the window as you got closer, shirtless and his rib wrapped in a bandage, clearly covering a fresh new tattoo. In seeing your presence, he looked up, but his eyes passed over you as if you werenât even there.
You knocked lightly on the glass door, and he glanced up again, but his expression remained indifferent, like he was trying to suppress his emotions. He didnât move to open the door as you expected. In fact, he seemed to be arguing with himself in his head.
âHey,â you started, your voice trembling slightly. âCan we talk?â
Sukuna didnât respond right away when he wiped his hands on a rag, still not meeting your eyes. Your heart ached from the heavy silence, but before you could say anything more, the sound of a car engine broke the stillness of that scene.Â
An expensive McLaren car pulled up to the curb, and you were quick to recognize its owner.Â
It was Satoru rolling down his window, a bright smile on his face as he looked at you. His beam was almost blinding, distracting you from the presently awkward situation you had placed yourself in.
âY/N,â he greeted cheerfully, completely oblivious to the tension. âDid you miss me?â
Oh, Jesus.Â
The words hung in the air like a bomb, and you felt the color drain from your face as you thought of how dangerous this situation would be for you. When you saw Sukunaâs eyes flicker with interest, his posture stiffened as he finally paid attention, and you realized it was too late. Way too late.Â
âIs that guy bothering you?â Sukuna finally asked, his voice unusually calm as he approached the door. The closer the proximity, the more your heart started to race. It was running at 250 km/h like it was on track.Â
Satoruâs smile then faltered, now sensing the shift in the atmosphere. It was his first time meeting Sukuna, and based on the stories you had shared with him and Suguru, he was smart enough to recognize that the tattooed man was your ex.Â
âI got what you asked for.â Satoru ignored Sukuna and looked back at you, holding up a small bag. âBirth control, right?â
Never in your life did you want to disappear like a puff of smoke. The sudden turn of events was so wild and unexpected. You could see that Satoru was enjoying provoking your ex-boyfriend, but the whole exchange was making you feel nauseous. The tension was so overwhelming that you couldnât speak, or move, or do anything at all. You were simply frozen.Â
It was also at that time when Sukunaâs eyes narrowed, his gaze moving between you and Satoru. The pieces began to click into place, and a dark realization settled over his features. âYou slept with him?â he asked, his voice low and accusatory.
âSukuna, IâŠâ Your breath caught in your throat because you couldnât find the damn words to respond. Should you deny it? Should you say it wasnât anything like that? There was no way you could get out of this situation even if you wanted to.Â
But Satoru stepped out of his car in your defense. âItâs none of your business what she doesââ
âShut up, you douchebag,â Sukuna snapped, his glare turning deadly. He looked at you with sharp eyes, ones filled with a mixture of hurt and fury. With the way he was glaring, you knew he was murdering you in his head. âSo this is how you move on?â
Your eyes stung from the incoming tears. You wanted to explain, to tell him that you only did it out of spite, but the words just wouldnât come. You knew it was still wrong and that it would be a huge slap to his face hearing that you had hooked up with someone else before him. You hadnât even confirmed anything, yet the intensity of Sukunaâs gaze already made you feel like you were suffocating.Â
As the two men stood there, locked in a silent standoff, you recognized it as the loudest silence you had experienced in your life. That was, until Satoru broke that silence by reaching for your hand. âLetâs go,â he said gently, guiding you towards his car.
You hesitated for a moment, your eyes lingering on Sukuna, but the look of betrayal on his face was too much to bear. It was either you turn away and leave him behind or you stay there and explain to him.Â
Unfortunately, you didnât have the courage to do the latter.Â
â â
The roar of Sukunaâs bike echoed through the night, slicing through the darkness as he raced down the highway like a motorcycle racer on a professional track. His mind was a whirl of thoughts, jealousy and rage fueling his every movement. With every thought of you, his knuckles felt cold.Â
Look, he wasnât planning to pursue you after you left with that guy, but his ego just wouldnât allow it. After piecing the situation together, something inside him just snapped. Like a timebomb. A very dangerous one. He couldnât control his emotions, and he couldnât just let you go like that. Damn it. Almost two years of forcing him into celibacy, and you suddenly threw yourself at a guy you just met?
He revved his motorbike, scoffing bitterly behind his helmet. He was riding recklessly, without a care to the other vehicles he almost crashed into. Fuck. He had spent nearly a month sulking over your pathetic breakup, he had tried his hardest to avoid you, when all this time, you were out there offering your virginity to some random trust fund-looking guy. How ridiculous was that? How utterly, goddamn ridiculous was it? Maybe you had just revealed your true colors right there. You had always felt uncertain about Sukuna because he had nothing but a tattoo shop and a decent motorbike. Now, youâve met the picture-perfect guy your parents always wanted for you, so you found it easy to spread your legs open and allow some other guyâs dick inside.
You were worse than a whore.Â
The wind whipped against his bare chest, but he paid no mind to the cold. He didnât care anymore. Even if the police were to chase after him, he didnât fucking care. His focus was on the red taillights of your new guyâs McLaren car ahead of him. Sukuna pushed the throttle, his bike accelerating with a ferocious growl, causing a scene along the highway.Â
He mapped the situation in his head. Who was faster in this highway chase; the McLaren or his bike? While the McLaren 720 had a higher top speed, Sukunaâs Yamaha YZF-R1 was highly agile and could be more maneuverable in tight spaces. In a straight-line chase, the McLaren would eventually outpace his bike, but in scenarios involving a lot of maneuvering, he could have an advantage.
Too bad for you and your new guy though, since this highway was Sukunaâs domain. His superbike had already passed through the tightest of spaces in the midst of traffic during rush hour, so he was a clear winner here.Â
And in saying that, the distance between you closed rapidly, and soon he was right behind the car, the bikeâs engine roaring like a beast unleashed. With a piercing screech of tires, Sukuna maneuvered his bike alongside Satoruâs car, forcing him to pull over by kicking the driverâs side door. The car drifted and screeched to a halt on the shoulder of the highway, and Sukuna followed suit, cutting the engine and dismounting in one fluid motion. His precious bike, now discarded on the floor, all for the sake of confronting the woman he thought had loved him.Â
âWhat the fuck are you doing?â Satoru demanded, stepping out of the car with a confident swing. He tried to look tough by using their height differences against him, but he wasnât intimidating to Sukuna at all.Â
âGet out, Y/N,â Sukuna ordered, his voice dangerously low as he ignored Satoru and the countless cars honking behind them. His eyes were locked on the passenger side where you sat, your expression an amalgam of fear and hesitation. âI said get the fuck out!âÂ
âDude, chill out.â Satoru tried to put a hand on his shoulder, only to have his hand swiftly rebuffed. âIâm not letting her go with a man whoâs clearly upset.â
âStay the fuck outta this,â Sukuna growled, his fists clenched at his sides. The white-haired punk should take that as a warning. He should back out before his fist lands on his precious face. Plastic surgery isnât cheap nowadays. âY/N, if you donât wanna cause a scene, I suggest you get the fuck outta there.â
**
Your chest rose and fell as you looked between the two men. You knew Sukuna well enough to understand that he wasnât going to back down. And with a line of angry cars honking at the unnecessary traffic jam you were causing, you had no other choice but to open the door and step out.
Satoru's first instinct was to gesture for you to stay back. âY/Nââ
âSatoru, itâs okay,â you said softly. âI need to talk to him.â
The white-haired man hesitated at first, clearly worried for your safety, but with your insistence, he eventually nodded and stepped back to give you space. Sukunaâs eyes burned with intensity as he watched that interaction between you two.
ââKuna, can we at least pull over on the side and not talk in the middle of the highway?â you practically begged, your voice trembling as a few cars managed to squeeze their way between the McLaren and the YZF-R1, throwing harsh curse words towards you and your ex-boyfriend for the road blockage you had caused. Sukuna didnât even flinch. All you could see was the anger in his eyes, and the pain lurking just beneath his irises.
âIâm perfectly fine talking here,â was Sukunaâs reply, his voice dripping with sarcasm. âTell me why youâre with that douche. I think you owe me a damn good explanation, angel.â
You swallowed hard, your throat tightening. You just wanted to get this conversation over with. âW-We broke up. It shouldnât matter to you anymore.â
Beep. Beep. âGet off the road, you idiots! Youâre holding everyone up!â
Beep. Beep. âWho do you think you are, blocking traffic like this?â
âIs that so?â Sukuna scoffed, taking a step closer as he cornered you. âYou moved on pretty quickly, didnât you?â
You flinched at his tone, but you knew you had to tell him the truth. You knew you would not be able to escape this situation if you didnât admit it sooner or later. âSomething did happen between me and Satoru,â you finally confessed, feeling uneasy from the lingering eyes of the heated drivers. âI didnât plan it, it was justâŠâ
Beep. Beep. âThis is a highway, not a soap opera set!â
Beep. Beep. âTake your drama somewhere else!â
Sukunaâs eyes were clouded in disgust, the color of his lenses becoming red from the fire of his fury. âSo you really gave it to him?!â he demanded, his voice rising. He looked like he could punch someone at this rate. âAfter everything we had, you gave yourself to someone else?!â
Beep. Beep. âLearn to drive and pull over if you want to argue!â
You could feel your entire body shaking, but you tried to hold your ground. âI-I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought it would help me forget about you.â
âForget about me?â Sukunaâs laugh was harsh, almost maniacal, because he was truly losing his shit. âYou think you can forget about me by sleeping with some random guy?â He took another step closer, his presence far more overwhelming than the rest of the vehicle surrounding you. âYouâre nothing to me now,â he snarled at your face, the reality of his words cutting through your heart like a knife. âYouâre just another girl who threw herself away.â
Tears spilled over as you watched him turn his back on you, preparing to mount his bike again. âAnd what about you, Sukuna?â you challenged, despite his obvious departure. âDo you think youâre any better? You act as if you wouldnât have cheated on me if I hadnât confronted you about it!â
For a moment, Sukuna was silent, his anger and pain warring within him. Then he shook his head, his expression hardening as he pulled down the visor of his helmet. âBut I never cheated,â he said that fact coldly, âSo, donât expect me to stick around and pick up the pieces. Youâre just somebodyâs leftover now.â
He turned away, the finality of his words hanging in the air to wreck you in half. As soon as he sped up the bike, he vanished into the highway, accelerating from 0 to 60 mph in 2 seconds. The roar of his bike was louder than a thunderstorm. He didnât even care for his own safety. And as you watched him go, you could feel the rain pouring out with your heart breaking all over again, like a vase cracking against the floor, its pieces forever irreparable.Â
His words hurt more than his actions ever did. And you were never one to handle it as good as you thought you would be.
â â
âIâm not trying to be biased here or anything,â Choso said, lighting his cigarette as he leaned against his Harley Davidson bike. âBut even if you werenât my step-bro, I still think you did the right thing. I wouldnât be able to stomach hearing my ex-girlfriend be fucked by some dude after years of not giving it to me.â
Sukuna crouched next to his R1, the polished bike gleaming under the fluorescent lights of the garage. He had his shirt lay discarded nearby, leaving his toned torso exposed as he worked on changing oil. Sweat mixed with grease smudged across his chest and arms, emphasizing the taut muscles and the intricate tattoos that covered his skin. If he had women here, they would have fainted already. The sight of him sweaty and shirtless while working on his bike would have been an eye candy for them, but he didnât need to think of that now. He merely focused on moving his hands deftly, loosening bolts and draining the old oil into a container. The methodical process offered him a momentary distraction from the chaos in his mind.
âItâs simple,â Sukuna spoke, pausing to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand and inadvertently spreading more grease, âThe albino guy looks rich. She just proved to me sheâs nowhere near being a good girl when a rich guyâs involved.âÂ
The memory of his ex-girlfriend as she was picked up by another man replayed in his head. He couldnât stop imagining how your first night went on. Did you let him fuck you raw? Did you let him hit you from the back? Did you let him cum inside? Did you go for round two? Did you choke on his cock like a good girl?Â
He remembered what your naked body looked like. How soft your breasts felt like. How sweet your pussy tasted like. Now, another man had a taste of it, and he couldnât be any more disgusted. It was sickening to think that another manâs cock got to feel you inside before he did. And that you willingly allowed it.Â
âFuck that,â he muttered to himself, tightening the new oil filter. His eyes narrowed in concentration, but his mind drifted back to the breakup. Heâd always prided himself on being in control, on not letting himself be caught in temptation. But you had pushed his buttons too far, and even though he still never betrayed you, he was sick in the stomach to see that you were the first one who did.Â
âWomen,â Choso agreed, grinning as he shook his head. âIf she wasnât Yukiâs friend, I wouldâve cut her off.âÂ
The wrench slipped from Sukuna's hand, leaving it to clatter to the ground. He cursed under his breath, bending down to retrieve it, his movements were fluid and graceful despite the tension in his body. âYou donât need to cut her off. Itâs between me and her. She still treated you like a brother.â
The younger man raked his fingers through his raven hair, checking himself out on the bikeâs mirror. âNah. She was closer to Yuuji than me, anyway.âÂ
Sukuna stood up, wiped his hands on a rag, and poured fresh oil into the engine. The task was almost done, but his thoughts remained tangled. Seeing you with someone else couldnât stop igniting a fire in him, a possessive rage he couldnât quite shake. He missed the way you two were before, the way you couldn't get enough of each other when you were together. He missed the connection you shared, because it was something he hadnât felt with anyone else.
Finishing the oil change, he straightened up, staring at his reflection in the bikeâs mirror. The man looking back at him seemed foreign, his usual arrogance tempered by a vulnerability he didnât care to acknowledge. He then ran a hand through his hair, smearing more grease, and sighed.
âMaybe itâs time to go back to the old times,â Sukuna spoke his thoughts out loud, with his step-brother merely staring at him. âIâm single now.âÂ
With a final glance at the bike, Sukuna grabbed his shirt and slipped it on, the fabric sticking to his damp skin. He needed a ride to clear his head, to feel the rush of the wind against his face. As he swung a leg over the R1, threw his helmet on, and revved the engine, the powerful roar echoed through the space, drowning out his thoughts for a moment.
âBe careful out there!â was Chosoâs last reminder.
He sped off, the world blurring around him, but no matter how fast he went, he couldnât escape the image of your face or the sting of jealousy that burned in his chest. His mind was clouded with thoughts of you, and your face haunted him at every turn.Â
As he rode, his anger simmered, his frustration building with each passing moment. The pain of betrayal gnawed at him, further fueling his reckless impulses. Youâre such a piece of shit. All this time, you were claiming to be this too good of a girl who was as innocent as a bunny. When, as a matter of fact, you and your new boy toy were fucking each other like rabbits. It was funny, really, how you made him wait two years for nothing. He was your boyfriend, and yet you deprived him of sexual pleasure by pretending you were scared of it. What kind of stupid virgin would throw herself to a random guy when sheâs scared to lose her virginity to her own boyfriend?Â
Such bullshit. With a growl of frustration, Sukuna veered off course, his bike skidding to a stop in front of a familiar building. The apartment loomed before him as a dark silhouette against the night sky. It had been several weeks since he had seen her, but tonight, he didnât care.
His fists clenched at his sides as he marched up the steps to her door. His heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of anger and desperation swirling inside him. He was going crazy and he wanted to blow off steam. He wanted to let his frustration out, so he banged on the door, the sound of his fist colliding with the wood echoing through the quiet street.
After a moment, the door swung open, and a stunned Yorozu stood before him, bleary-eyed and disheveled. Surprise flickered across her face as she took in his appearance, his eyes burning with intensity.
âRyo⊠What are you doing here?â she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. The last time they spoke, he was very vocal about having a girlfriend and wanting to keep things professional.Â
Sukuna, this time around, didnât bother with pleasantries. âI need you.â
Yorozuâs eyes widened in surprise. âBut youââ
âPlease, Yorozu.â He pressed a hand against the door, cornering her in between. âI really, really need you right now.âÂ
She wasnât naive. She understood his implication, and he had certainly conveyed that he was no longer with you. And without hesitation, she stepped aside, allowing him to enter without a word. Sukuna felt a rush of adrenaline as soon as he was inside her place, his mind consumed by the need to forget, if only for a moment.
The door closed behind him, and in the darkness of the apartment, Sukuna grabbed Yorozuâs face and kissed her lips, drowning her in the heat of passion. Things were a blur after that, because he wasnât thinking clearly. Because he wasnât in his proper mind. He was letting his rage cloud his thoughts, his bitterness driving his every movement. The next thing he knew, they were stumbling into her room, unable to break their intense kiss. He had kissed her like there was no tomorrow, like her mouth was suction that he couldnât escape.Â
And soon enough, she was naked in her room, knelt before him as he forced his cock inside her mouth. He couldnât get a sense of time. He couldnât even tell if it was already midnight. All he knew was that his next few hours were spent with Yorozu, this time around, with him burying his digits in and out of her soaking pussy.Â
âHaaah!â She arched her back as an intense wave of pleasure hit her insides. âR-Ryo!âÂ
Fuck. Fuck it. Sukuna, without warning, put his cock inside her cunt. And her fucked her with rage, jostled her body like a sex doll, while her eyes rolled backwards in overwhelming satisfaction. She was grinning in absolute ecstasy, her breasts bouncing wildly as he continued to hit her sensitive spot before he leaned forward to suck her perfectly round breast.Â
Listen, he blacked out after that. So, if you were to ask him what happened after that session with Yorozu, he wouldnât be able to answer you because he genuinely passed out from exhaustion. All he remembered was them fucking each otherâs daylights out, and the next morning, she took good care of him like she was his girlfriend again.Â
No, she wasnât.Â
In fact, Sukuna was labeled an asshole for ghosting her. He didnât contact her after that night, nor did he have any further encounter with her. Instead, he went back to his old life way before you. An addict, an alcoholic, a womanizer.Â
For the next few months, that became his life without you.Â
He slept with different girls every few nights, especially his clients. It got to a point where he couldnât even recall their names, and he couldnât remember having brought them to his apartment the night prior, because he was often too high off his mind. Every girl who came to his tattoo shop for an appointment became his companion during the night. And today, one of those girls was among the many who annoyed him afterward.
âHey,â the girl spoke in a lascivious manner, running her slender fingers through his hair. He wasnât sure if her name was Rina or Kiko. âYou slept throughout the afternoon. Do you wanna go grab something to eat?âÂ
Sukuna groaned, covering his head with a duvet. âWhy are you still here?âÂ
He didnât need to see her face to know that confusion settled her delicate features. âBut I thought we wereâŠâÂ
âLeave,â was his harsh reply. âYouâre just a one-night stand to me.âÂ
â â
âSo, Y/N,â Suguru began with a playful twinkle in his eye. âWhy havenât you made Satoru yours yet?âÂ
You rolled your eyes at Getouâs antics. He was clearly on it with his best friend, and their goal today seemed to be to tease the heck out of you. âMaybe I like to keep him guessing,â you retorted with a smirk, though your mind was far from the playful banter.Â
âBut thereâs nothing to guess!â Satoru, on the other hand, protested. He was even displaying a childish pout. âWeâve seen each other naked, you knowââ
Before he could finish his sentence, you swiftly covered his mouth with your hand, earning a cackle from Suguru in return. Thank goodness there werenât that many people in the cafe today, because you were never safe around those two. They were inseparable, like two peas in a pod, sharing one brain cell. Like yin yang.
âShut up,â you merely replied.Â
âBaby, donât be shy,â Satoru teased again, giggling like an immature child together with Suguru. âYouâre an adult who did adult things.âÂ
You sighed, wondering if you would ever get a break from these idiots. âThis is exactly why I donât date you.âÂ
It was a joke, of course. The delivery, however, was a bit dry. But nonetheless, your statement caused Suguru to laugh at his best friend who, in his defense, tried to recover his trampled ego by denying your statement.Â
âSheâs lying,â Satoru denied, as if convincing Suguru was his top priority, âYou never told me your cousinâs hard-to-get.âÂ
 âYeah,â agreed Suguru, playfully, âDefinitely hard-to-get. The only girl who can make Sukuna pussy-less for two years.â
âHey!â It was Yuki who intervened, knowing full well that Getou was below the belt on that joke. âEnough of that.â
In truth, you felt it was a touchy subject for you. Anything related to Sukuna, especially that aspect of your past relationship, was something you avoided like a plague. You wanted no mentions of him, and of what he did, and of what you didnât do. He had simply become that person who canât be named, like Voldemort.Â
But the thing was, it was unavoidable sometimes. You werenât mad at Suguru for bringing him up. You knew that him and Satoru, ever mischievous, were just playfully ribbing at you, but you couldnât muster up the same enthusiasm to banter back. You were just upset because hearing Sukunaâs name reminded you of the very reason why you hadnât been in the happiest mood today.
If it wasnât obvious to them, your mind had been elsewhere since this morning, too fixated on the influx of girls you noticed had been frequently visiting Sukunaâs tattoo shop lately. You knew you didnât have the right to feel jealous anymore, you knew you should no longer care about what he does with his life, but you couldnât shake off the nagging feeling that something was off.
And Yuki, sensing your distraction, gently pulled you to the side for a private conversation away from the chatter of your friends.Â
âHey, Y/N. Everything okay?â Yuki asked, her tone soft and understanding. She wasnât forcing you to open up, rather, she was allowing you to share only what you wanted to.Â
You did hesitate for a moment before finding it safe to confide in her. âI just canât stop thinking about him. And those girls at his shop... I donât know, itâs just been bothering me."
Yuki listened attentively, her expression empathetic. âY/N, I know this might be hard to hear, but have you considered that Sukuna might be seeing other people?â
Your heart sank at Yukiâs words. You had entertained the thought before, but hearing it from someone else made it feel more real. âIs⊠Is he?âÂ
âWell, not exactly,â she admitted reluctantly. âBut Choso told me heâs been sleeping around.â Yuki then placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, anticipating your heartbreak from the news she delivered. And she was right. In just a few words, it felt like someone had stabbed you with a knife on the chest. âI'm sorry, Y/N. I agree, you deserve someone who respects and cherishes you. If Sukuna isnât that person, then maybe itâs time to let go.â
You forced a nod, feeling a mix of sadness and regret wash over you, but you didnât want to break down in front of Yuki. You definitely didnât want to cry with Satoru and Suguru around. You knew deep down that Yuki was right, but accepting it was just another matter entirely and you werenât sure if you were prepared for it.
âListen, why donât we go out?â she offered, a smile of encouragement spreading on her peachy lips, âLetâs have a drink or something. Anything just to keep your mind off of him. What do you say?âÂ
â â
It was a mistake.Â
You fidgeted uncomfortably on the barstool, feeling out of place amidst the pulsating music and the raucous laughter that filled the rooftop bar. Yuki, Getou, and Gojou seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves, chatting animatedly over their drinks like it was a scene that they were used to. But for you, this environment was foreign territory. You werenât accustomed to the loudness, the crowdedness, the palpable energy that thrummed through the air. Heck, you didnât even drink alcohol. You couldnât stand the taste nor could you see the benefit of drinking.Â
But you didnât want to be a party pooper. Yuki did you a favor here, and it was for you to get your mind off the man who kept torturing your soul over and over. If you were to leave now, it would just beat Yukiâs purpose of tagging you along.Â
You were supposed to enjoy it. You were supposed to have fun, dancing with them, singing along to the music. They werenât even the type of music Sukuna listened to.Â
âY/N, bottoms up!â You werenât sure if it was Satoru or Suguru who said that, but they both offered you a small glass of vodka, urging you to drink it in one shot.Â
As much as you wanted to, you had to refuse, speaking over the loud music. âIâm good, thank you.âÂ
And as you scanned the room, your eyes inadvertently locked onto a figure across the bar.Â
Amidst the throng of people.Â
The one person you wanted to avoid.Â
Sukuna.Â
He stood out effortlessly in the crowd, exuding an aura of confidence and charisma that drew your gaze like a moth to a flame. You couldnât believe it. No, you just couldnât believe it. You could be hallucinating because it would be too much of a coincidence for him to be here.Â
But as soon as his eyes met yours, you knew he wasnât just a figure of your imagination. Deep in your heart, you knew it was him. You couldnât be mistaken when those eyes, those lips, those goddamn tattoos, were all him.
Though, as you two locked gaze, his expression told a different story. They were a jumble of surprise, guilt, and bitterness. He seemed just as startled to see you as you were to see him. But beneath it all, there was an undeniable tension, a silent acknowledgment of unfinished business between you.
No, you canât walk away from me. Excusing yourself quietly, you slipped away from the table, unnoticed by your friends, and made your way through the crowd of people towards him. He was already walking away at that point, ready to avoid your presence as if seeing you was torture for him. But didnât he know? You were too stubborn for your own good. You relentlessly followed him, squeezing in between a drunken crowd, realizing that Sukuna was heading down.Â
In the abandoned part of the buildingâs parking lot, you finally caught up to him, your heart pounding in your chest as you faced him.Â
ââKuna,â you called out, âPlease.âÂ
Sukuna turned to face you, his expression unreadable as he regarded you with dark, intense eyes. âHey,â he replied coolly, his voice a low rumble in the night air as he walked closer to his bike.
âYouâre not supposed to ride when youâre drunk,â you began.Â
To which he sneered at. âWhy? You think Iâm here to offer you a ride back home, angel?âÂ
Aggravating as ever. He was still that arrogant bastard you knew, and loved. âNo, youâre probably doing that to someone else.âÂ
âWhy donât you go back to your filthy rich boyfriend?âÂ
âAre you jealous?â you bit back, now feeling a palpable tension transpiring between you, but you tried not to let it stop you from speaking to him. âWhatever happened to me and Satoru was just one time.âÂ
Sukuna scoffed at your statement. âI didnât ask, angel.âÂ
Truthfully, he was the most frustrating man in the world right now. And dealing with him was definitely the hardest job ever, but your purpose of running after him wasnât to bicker. All you wanted was to confirm something that had been bothering you. So you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. âHave you been sleeping around?âÂ
His expression remained stoic, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of defiance. âAre you jealous?â he mocked, returning the same question back to you. âSo what if I am?âÂ
You couldnât tell what overcame you more; was it the pain or the anger? But surely, a hundred percent, your frustration was definitely boiling over. âSo you are,â you huffed, âSee, that wasnât so hard to admit, isnât it? This is what youâve always wanted to do! To sleep with those girls!âÂ
For a moment, silence hung heavy between you, the tension was crackling in the air like electricity. Then, without warning, Sukuna closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to grab your jaw.
âYou donât get to turn this back around on me,â he spat, swallowing the obvious pain in his voice, âYouâre the one who started it all.â Â
Your breath was caught in your throat as you felt the heat of his body so close to yours, his touch igniting an altogether new fire within you. Despite the anger building inside your heart, you couldnât deny the pull you felt towards him, the magnetic attraction that seemed to draw you together like two black holes ready to destroy one another.Â
âI fucking waited for you,â he continued, his voice now deepening in a more sincere tone, âI know I was wrong for not setting boundaries, but I never, not once, cheated on you. I never fucking did! But you couldnât trust me, right? You couldnât fuckinâ trust me.â His pupils dilated as he raised his voice. âYouâre so caught up in being too goddamn insecure about yourself when all I wanted was to have intimacy with youââ
âAll you wanted was sex, just admit that!â you yelled back, jerking his hand away as tears began to fill your eyes. âAnd maybe I was right for giving my first to someone else, because you donât deserve it. You donât deserve it when youâve always pressured me into giving it to you.â
Sukunaâs laughter filled the air, a disbelieving chuckle that bordered on frustration. He threw his head back, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. Without hesitation, he snatched his helmet and hurled it across the floor, the sound of impact startling you.
âI never fucking pressured you!â His voice was raw with emotion as he walked back towards you, frustration and hurt evident in every step. âYouâre the only girl I genuinely respected. You think I enjoyed being celibate for two fucking years?! No, the fuck, I didnât! But I waited. I waited because I didn't want you to feel forced! It was all in your fucking head, Y/N. Your doubts, your uncertainties about me. Iâm a man too, damn it! Of course, it frustrated me, but that doesnât mean I would ever leave you or cheat on you.â And just when you thought it was over, he spoke again, his words now silencing into a painful tone, his eyes shining from the tears blanketing his gaze, âDid you think you were the only one who was insecure? Every damn day, Y/N, I was scared you were gonna leave me. That you were gonna find some other guy, someone who could give you everything you wantâa big house, a nice car, a successful life. I didnât have all that. And it kills me every single day knowing that thatâs exactly the type of guy you went after the moment we broke up.âÂ
Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating, as Sukunaâs words replayed in your mind like a broken record. You couldnât bring yourself to respond, couldnât find the words to refute his accusations. Because deep down, you knew he had a point. Your doubts, your insecuritiesâthey had clouded your judgment, poisoned your perception of Sukuna. And now, faced with his raw honesty, you couldnât deny the truth in his words.
But accepting that truth was a bitter pill to swallow. It meant acknowledging your own flaws, your own role in the breakdown of your relationship. And it meant coming to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe, you had let your fears drive you to push away the person who had truly cared for you.
As Sukuna stood before you, frustration and hurt etched into every line of his face, you felt a pang of regret twist in your chest. You wanted to reach out, to apologize, to admit that you had your wrongs, too. But no words came out, choked by the weight of your own self-doubt.
âIâŠâ you struggled to respond. It was a battle you werenât ready to fight, so your only option was to run away. To turn away like a coward, and to flee the agonizing reality of your relationship.Â
But Sukuna didnât let you. Instead, he closed the remaining space between you, his lips crashing down on yours in a hungry, desperate kiss.
In that moment, all thoughts of anger and confrontation melted away as you surrendered to the intoxicating allure of Sukunaâs touch. Lost in the heat of the moment, lost in a puddle of strong emotions. You fell deeper into the trap of your undeniable sexual tension, your bodies becoming entwined in a passionate embrace in the empty parking lot.Â
His lips were soft against yours, his tongue rolling in the opposite motion as you kissed him deeper. More, more. He was hungry for more. And so were you.Â
So when he kissed your neck, you allowed it.Â
When he squeezed your breast, you allowed it.Â
When he raised your skirt, you allowed it.Â
You released a moan into his mouth as he sat you on top of his motorbike, standing in between your legs as he reattached his lips back to yours. Your mouths enveloped each other perfectly. The bittersweet taste of his tongue, now moving south down your neck.Â
âSukunaâŠâÂ
While his mouth was busy doing its own work, his hands too were occupied in touching areas he had once explored. One hand travelled to your thigh, squeezing your flesh before he reached your crotch. Two fingers touched your underwear, as if he was checking if you were wet, before he pushed them onto the side to set your cunt free.Â
You ended up wrapping your arms around his neck, a gasp escaping your lips as his fingers played with your entrance. Your clit, your sensitive bud, also wasnât ignored when he began moving his fingers in a circular motion.Â
âMmmh!âÂ
What was going through his head? You knew he was aroused, but why did his gaze look so dark? It was too grim, to the point where it scared you. But you were far too distracted when his other hand went to grab a hold of your tit, squeezing your mound, and kneading the soft skin. He had pulled down your neckline to release your tits in the air, quickly attaching his mouth onto one breast as soon as they were out in the open.Â
âHaaah!âÂ
You were going crazy, both from the fingers that were entering your cunt, and the mouth that was sucking your tit. You had your back arched into a C, your arms grabbing onto his shoulder as he became more and more aggressive with his touch.Â
And you werenât exaggerating when you said he was being more aggressive with it, because when he pulled himself away from you, it only lasted for a few seconds before he grabbed your waist and twisted your body around. In a blink of an eye, he had you position against his motorbike, with your body leaning against the seat and your ass high enough for his crotch.Â
âS-Sukuna, s-someone might walk inââ
He had pulled your underwear down, letting it stay in between your knees, before rubbing your pussy from behind. His breath was warm when he whispered into your ear, âDonât act like you hate it.âÂ
He wasnât wrong with that either. Because while he was touching your entrance, testing if the tip of his cock would smoothly glide in, you became an animal in heat, ready to be devoured by him. You had to cover your mouth, forcing yourself to keep your voice down as he finally buried his cock six inches deep inside of you.Â
âA-Aah!â your body jerked forward as Sukuna rawdogged you from behind. âS-Sukuna, aah!â
âYouâre such a fucking slut,â he cussed under his breath, feeling a painful stretch on your scalp as he pulled your hair, âDid he fuck you this good?âÂ
âMmhâno!âÂ
The sound of skin-slapping was reverberating across the empty lot.
âDid you let him cum inside?â
âN-NoâŠ!â
He was insatiable. He couldnât get enough of the tightness of your cunt. He, too, was moaning from the feeling of your velvet walls milking his cock like a warm glove. So he continued to thrust inside you, his hands on your hips, keeping you steady as he rammed his cock inside faster, and harder, and deeper.Â
Your buttocks were becoming too sore, the stretch of skin on your bum vibrating in waves every time he hit you balls deep inside.
And while you were a moaning hot mess below him, a realization suddenly hit you in the face like a truck. Throughout your relationship, this was all he had ever wanted to do with you. He had always talked about doing it slowly, in a romantic set up with candles lit and petals around, in a place where you can lay yourself comfortably. You dreamed of him whispering I love youâs into your mouth as you two made love. You fantasized about him lovingly looking into your eyes as he reached his high. You used to picture him out, intertwining his hands with yours as he tells you youâre the most beautiful girl in the world.
Yet now, you were doing it in the basement parking lot. In a dark, dirty place. Bent over against the uncomfortable seat of his bike.Â
And more importantly, he was treating you like a whore.Â
Tears welled up your eyes as you felt Sukuna pull out after finishing. For a minute, he gathered himself together, his head pressed against your nape as he sighed.Â
âItâs not working, Y/N,â he mumbled against your skin, voicing the exact words you were afraid to hear.
âI knowâŠâ You sniffed, pulling the strap of your dress back up and adjusting your skirt back down.
He didnât need to say anything more. When he gave you one last kiss on the forehead and wrapped you in his jacket, you understood the full weight of his words. It wasnât just about this moment; it was about everything that had led you here.Â
It didnât work because you had already shattered your perceptions of each other. Both tarnished the way you saw one another. He would never come to terms with the fact that you gave yourself to another guy, just as you could never accept that he had slept with the same girls you had always warned him about. It would only lead to a constant game of back-and-forths, of pointing fingers, of toxic love.
So you watched him mount his bike, rev the engine, and look at you one last time before speeding away. His figure disappeared into the dark like a shadow, like a dream you only once knew.Â
That was the last time you ever saw Ryomen Sukuna in your lifetime.
#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#jjk x reader#sukuna angst#sukuna smut#jjk smut#jjk angst#biker sukuna#tattoo artist sukuna#bad boy sukuna#biker au
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Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesnât mean anything⊠does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like âoh my god heâs in love with you and doesnât know how to tell you, so thatâs why heâs always joking about bonersâ (please and thank u ilu đ)
omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts đ„Čđ I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!
â cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)
best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader
<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining
Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.
Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaretâs - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.
"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.
Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.
Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.
That this always was his spot.
It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.
Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"
And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.
It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.
Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.
And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.
The reality is something else.
Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.
Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.
Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".
It's enough to make you hope.
Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.
Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.
But there's the downfall.
You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.
The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.
Of foolishness.
It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.
Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.
And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.
"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.â
Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.
"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."
"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."
Doubt still lingers.
"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.
"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"
The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."
âSure.â He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.
âGod, I havenât been over here in like-,â Wade checks a fake watch, âFifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.â
Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, âIs it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when Iâm gone?â
You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.
âExactly the same.â
Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.
A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.
His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.
"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."
"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"
There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.
You're going to fucking kill him.
The sound of your name brings you back.
âReady to play?â
Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and itâs enough to bring you back.
A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.
It floods through you.
The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.
It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something thatâs become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.
Oh.
A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.
âYeah?â You breathe, softening.
âYeah.â He laughs, âThought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.â
Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.
âBut I like that about you.â Another huff of a laugh, âLike all of you, really. Always have.â
It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony youâve been bearing for weeks.
Only you could be such an idiot.
thanks for reading! đ
#wade wilson x reader#wade wilson x you#deadpool x reader#deadpool x you#requests#avocado-writings#eupheme answers
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on patreon Convoluted asked for Gender Plasma and Hypothemya mentioned gay heathen deities which summoned Strike, or Lady Stormfather if you're being formal, from the Small Guide world.
Strike is associated with ocean storms, hurricanes, ruined maps, strange new courses, terrifying beauty, shapeshifters, and generally wild sea phenomena near the surface of the water. She is commonly worshiped by queer sailors and seen as a symbol of queer exploration due to stories of Her ever shifting gender presentation whenever She takes human form (She uses she/her in god form purely because Girl Time is her favorite and mixes it up to fit her current human form the rest of the time) and how She's always as gay as possible no matter what she's shifted into. this doesn't have a lot to do with her powers, She's just Like That.
She also seems to reveal Her hidden havens to queer people more often. there are many tales of Her storms sweeping ships to islands that shouldn't exist, and the sailors who feel compelled to come ashore returning to the boat Changed by whatever blessings they find among the patches of glassy sand and the smell of lightning charred trees. some of the changes seem small. a bit of added confidence in their body language, a strange infectious lightness in their eyes like a great weight had been removed, the warm glow of of some satiated need dripping from their every movement. others seem grander, as they greet their old crew mates with altered bodies still flush from being shaped by the wind and rain and new names that taste like the air before a storm. some even come back with guests, emerging from the brush hand in hand with new lovers and friends, all with Lichtenberg figures etched into their skin and stray hairs unruly with static electricity.
some never come back at all. that's how it is with the sea sometimes. the ships are eventually driven back out by a fresh storm and lightning-bright eyes watch the departure from the dark between the trees.
random fun facts: Strike is one of Bathomet's casual on again, off again, paramours and Her sigil animal is a ribbon eel. this is why you'll find artwork of ribbon eels outside of things like seaside gay taverns or tattooed on coastal dwarves. Her favorite offerings are flower petals thrown into the wind right before a storm, shallow dishes of fruit juice or alcohol, and small pieces of metal, preferably silver or copper.
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Hi!! I really love your writtingđ„° i would like to request for the self-aware au, Reader hiding behind them after being chased by some particularly pushy NPCs with Rook, Trey, and Jack pleaseâ€ïž
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, murder, description of violence, blood, obsession, stalking
Trey Clover/Jack Howl/Rook Hunt-Hiding behind them
Ah, what a nice day. In fact, it is perfect for trying out that recipe with that dough that needed to rest for a while
Or rather, that was his plan for the day until he suddenly heard two pairs of footsteps rushing into the dorm kitchen
And no, it was not the kind of footsteps that spoke of joy like the ones of his siblings did. from time to time, it sounded panicked
Just a second later you entered the kitchen with an octavinelle student, the latter one trying to catch up to you
Before the baker could figure out what was going on, you were suddenly behind him, using his body as a shield
Oh⊠oh!
Was this guy harassing you?
How dare he? How dare-
Deep breaths. Very deep breaths - would be something he would have said to himself if he wasn't this angry
By some miracle, he was able to hold himself together
He was this close to loose his reputation as "that nice hat wearing baker"
A strict look towards the student and you were finally alone with him
For you the whole thing was over but for that student?
Suddenly the poor lad fell ill, claiming that he had stomach problems
Heck, he couldn't even keep his food down
Such a shame... Trey surely hoped he would survive
Who else could he secretly gift those cakes? You? Oh no... It's just that he experiments with some new recipes...
Ignore that bottle in the cupboard
Jack is someone who keeps his friends very close and is not afraid to stand up for them
Only that he saw you as someone more precious than a friend
So when he saw you running away from a student and slipping behind him he saw the world just a tiny bit tinted red
The young wolf beastman isn't someone who uses violence just because he can do or feel like using it
(Honestly, at this point he is more like your little dog than some fearsome wolf)
Just because he didn't turn the student into very biological and mushy fertiliser for the flowers then and there doesn't mean he was calm though
Grabbing the not so nice company of yours, he told you to not worry and leave your little problem to him
Ah yes, Jack Howl, that kind acquaintance of yours
How nice of him
But you know, there are also tales about wolves acting as if they are kind just to devour you
Of course Jack didn't do that
Does not mean that things went as peaceful as you thought they did after you left
Jack usually keeps his instincts under control but on that evening he had to cut his nails very short and scrub his hands
Anyone would be horrified after the sensation of calcium breaking under their hand, splintering like old, dried out wood under a saw
He should feel guilty but... it was hard to do so
Which brings us back to a sink being used by a certain beastman
Geez, some things are so hard to get off of skin once it dries, wouldn't you agree?
First of all, it's a wonder the hunter wasn't watching you from a tree (or something like that... who knew bushes could walk in this world)
If he had he would have immediately revealed himself by slithering in between you and that oh so foolish first year
But alas, apparently a miracle happened and this time it was you seeking out him
When Rook heart the certain sound of your shoes hitting the ground he was swivelling around, a poem about his devotion towards you already on his tongue...
And them you hid behind his arm curtains (you know, their dorm uniforms sleves)
Did hiw beloved Overseer, perfection and liberatir in person finally choose him as their most favorite- no? Ok that's cool too
If this was any other situation he would have started a speech in his wannabe French, stating how short he was by your rejection
But right now he had to deal with your little stalker (don't try to act all innocent, Rook, you did the same many more times than they ever could without being noticed)
Trying to calm you down the hunter brought you to Pomfiore
And nothing weir happened
No I am not joking, Rook was his usual normal self (if we want to call at best flirtatious remarks and at worst frantic devoted ramblings normal)
From then on you were much closer to the hunter
Especially after a body was found
And oh, how grateful Rook was for not having the time to get rid of the body on that day
Of course, he had noticed how ce fou followed you two to the dorm
How trusting you were when he told you that he wanted to get you two something to drink...
And there the parasite still was, lingering around the entrance of his dorm
The only regret Rook had was finishing his job so quickly
It was always such a bore whenever his prey wouldn't squirm
Well, at least you were now close to him
Just be careful, the hunter was also back then the one bringing her highness a false heart. Who knows how much he would lie to get you all to himself?
Uh and⊠maybe don't open that box he has in his room in a cooler. He told you he keeps some sort of trophy in there and I think that is all we need to know
#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twst x reader#self aware au#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#yandere trey x reader#yandere trey clover#trey clover x reader#yandere trey#twst trey#trey x reader#twst jack#yandere jack howl#yandere jack x reader#yandere jack#twst rook x reader#yandere rook x reader#rook hunt x reader#yandere rook hunt#yandere rook#twst rook#rook x reader#tw: yandere#tw: murder#tw: violence#tw: obsessive behavior#tw: blood
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