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marvelmusing · 3 months

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Conflict of Interest

Part of the Our Souls AU

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: The second Prince of Ravka shows an interest in you, which causes division between you and your dæmon. Aleksander offers you some comfort and advice.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

There’s a touch of worry in your stomach, as your eyes wander through the crowd of people surrounding you. Fabian is out of sight - an uncomfortable and unfamiliar experience for you. There isn’t any pain, so he isn’t currently in danger or under any threat, but you don’t like not being able to see him.

Then, there’s the somewhat familiar sensation of Fabian being touched by another dæmon. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders. He must have spotted Aleksander and wandered off to greet Andromeda while you were talking to some of the older scholars.

But when you manage to find your dæmon, he isn’t coiled around the familiar form of Andromeda. Instead you find another fox dæmon, larger than Fabian, rubbing against him. Embarrassed by the behaviour of your soul, you hurry over and scold him in a low tone.

“Fabian, come here.”

A man places his hand on your forearm placatingly.

“No, leave him be. I don’t mind.”

Turning to look at the man, your eyes widen and your body burns in mortification.

“Moi tsarevich.”

He makes a dismissive gesture.

“Please, call me Nikolai.” His mouth quirks into a charming smile before you can offer any sort of protest. “I insist.”

The second son of the king, Prince Nikolai, is a known patron of education and knowledge, as well as travel and exploration. He has returned from his recent visit to Novyi Zem with golden hair and sun-kissed cheeks.

After giving him a small curtsey, you tell him your name and he inclines his head in a formal greeting before he looks down at your dæmon, still pinned between the paws of his own.

“Fabian. A handsome name for a handsome dæmon. Did your parents name him?”

Hoping he can’t see the heat spreading painfully over your face and down your neck, you shake your head.

“My father’s dæmon named him.”

“How lovely.”

Curiosity has your gaze flickering down to the prince’s dæmon. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the smirk that spreads over Nikolai’s features which makes you far too bashful to grasp the courage to ask for his dæmon’s name. He leans closer, dipping his head down to inform you.

“His name is Reynard.” When you turn and frown at him, he adds, “My dæmon.”

“Oh,” you stammer, flustered by his sudden proximity. At this distance, your eyes are level with his lips. “It’s a very nice name.”

His smile softens, as if your fumbling response is akin to an eloquent compliment.

“Thank you.”

Reynard’s fur is longer than Fabian’s, glossy and sleek as he spins dizzyingly around your dæmon before he pounces on him. They both roll around, tussling, and embarrassment prickles over your skin.

Nikolai asks you about your work and you stumble over your words as you attempt to hold a conversation with him. It’s hard to focus on anything when his dæmon is paying such attention to your Fabian. It makes you squirm, heat burning painfully through your body and you begin to fear that he can see how your heart is pounding.

Suddenly, the haze clouding your mind dissipates, replaced by an anxiety that weighs on your lungs. Fabian scampers away from Reynard, though he doesn’t retreat between your legs like he usually would. Instead, he seeks the safety of someone else.

“Lord Morozova,” Nikolai says with a dashing smile. The sight of Aleksander feels like being doused in cold water. He gives the prince a curt nod in response, his eyes moving slowly between the two of you.

“Your highness.”

The tension between them is palpable and you struggle to breathe clearly, hindered by your sudden anxiety caused by Fabian’s uncharacteristic rejection. Staring at your dæmon’s amber eyes, you feel a stab of hurt as he remains hidden behind Aleksander’s legs, finding refuge with him and Andromeda.

“I’m sorry,” you stammer. “I need some air.”

Aleksander murmurs your name softly, his voice filled with concern as he reaches for you, but you wave away his hand distractedly. There’s a tug on your heart, a sickening lurch in your stomach, as you walk away from your dæmon and when the distance becomes painful Fabian is forced to follow you out of the ballroom.

The two of you retreat into an empty room, away from the sounds of the party.

“What were you thinking - messing around with his dæmon like that in front of everyone?” you hiss in frustration as you close the door behind you.

“In front of Aleksander you mean,” he remarks bitterly, not even looking at you as he stalks further into the room. He turns back, directing his next words accusingly. “Did you even notice how Reynard was holding onto me?”

In all honesty, you hadn’t been able to focus on anything except holding onto Nikolai’s attention, even if it made you sick with nerves.

“You play like that with Andromeda,” you reason.

“I know Andromeda. I don’t know him.”

“I thought you had gone to him.”

“He grabbed me.”

That makes you pause, guilt settling in your stomach.

“I didn’t realise.”

“Because you like Nikolai,” he accuses.

“No I don’t,” you snap defensively.

The silence rings between you both. Fabian knows you’re lying, but you don’t want to admit it out loud. Nikolai is charming and you had been too distracted by his attention to notice your poor dæmon’s distress.

Sighing, you slump back against the wall, sliding down slowly to settle on the floor. It takes some nudging, but you finally manage to encourage your stubborn dæmon into sitting in your lap. He doesn’t look at you, even when you drape your arms around him.

“I’m sorry, Faby.” He huffs, turning his head further away from you. “I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

“And?”

“And for lying to you.”

He turns to face you.

“I don’t like him.”

“The prince?”

He nods.

“Then I won’t leave you alone with them again.”

There’s a knock at the door and Aleksander’s voice is low as he murmurs your name questioningly. For a moment, you stay quiet, but the sound of Andromeda scratching against the door has you reaching for the handle.

As you open the door, Aleksander steps forwards, his eyes flickering over your features as he examines your expression.

“Are you alright?”

He looks down at Fabian, who moves quickly towards Andromeda. She nuzzles her nose against his carefully, to ensure she doesn’t overwhelm the two of you.

“We’re going home,” Fabian says, which makes you look down at him sharply. It might not have crossed your mind to leave the party, but deep down you long for your bed. He turns his head, looking up at you pointedly and you nod in agreement.

“We’re going home.”

“Can I walk with you?” Aleksander asks.

“Aren’t you staying at the party?” He shakes his head and you frown in concern. “The Little Palace is on the opposite side of the city to the university.”

“I know.”

“Aleksander-”

“I want to see you home safely.” He glances down at Fabian again, before he adds, “Both of you.”

Fabian lifts his head up, licking at Aleksander’s fingers affectionately. He turns his hand slightly, allowing his fingers to smooth over the top of Fabian’s head before he responds with a fond scratch between his ears.

Warmth fills your chest, easing into your body at the sight of Aleksander with your dæmon. It’s a stark contrast to the anxiety you felt around Nikolai.

“Shall we?”

You nod.

The moment the door is opened, the sounds from the ballroom return to you and the world comes crashing down on you again.

Aleksander keeps his hand on the small of your back, his palm warm even through your clothing as he guides you towards the door. The night air is cool against your skin and a shudder rolls through your body. Subconsciously, you find yourself being drawn closer towards Aleksander, seeking his warmth.

The two of you stay in silence as you walk through the streets, but you can see him glancing at you occasionally, his lips parted as if he is about to speak. He doesn’t, and the lingering nerves from the party continue to run beneath your skin as the silence goes on. Until you can’t stand it any longer.

“What is it?” you ask him.

He regards you for a moment, as he seems to contemplate something.

“I want you to be careful around Prince Nikolai.”

“Why?”

“Have you heard of Braiker’s theory of dæmon manipulation?”

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips, as it always does when you’re reminded of Aleksander’s genuine interest in your chosen field of study. Then you give his question some thought. Braiker’s theory suggests that a person could purposefully used their dæmon to influence someone else’s perception of them - that contact between dæmons can even cause an attachment between the humans.

“Yes, of course,” you say, looking at him with a small frown. Aleksander raises a brow pointedly at you, with brings your thoughts to a halt. “I- He wasn’t. Was he?”

“There’s no way of knowing for certain. But I would keep an eye on his dæmon if I were you.”

Immediately, you glance at Fabian with worry as he weaves his way along the pavement beside Andromeda. Guilt has you gnawing at your lower lip, you had abandoned him in that ballroom. Aleksander draws his arm around you, tucking you into his side. The momentum causes your temple to bounce against his chest and you leave it there, soaking in his comfort.

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Aleksander assures you.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Sensing your distress, Fabian turns his head back to look at you.

“I’m not mad at you,” he says.

Fabian’s love for you is unconditional. But there are moments when you fear that your own soul might one day grow to hate you.

He turns back, weaving his way between your legs, coiling himself around you. Instantly, you bend down and take him into your arms. He nuzzles into your chest, nosing his way up your neck before licking affectionately at your cheek and you bury your face into his fur.

Aleksander rubs your back comfortingly and he seems to be itching to touch Fabian. But he doesn’t. Despite the darkened streets, you’re still in public after all.

When you reach the university, Aleksander remains by your side, even as you walk through the quiet corridors and up to your rooms. He only hesitates when you enter, turning back to look at him. Self-conscious, you lower your gaze and struggle to find the right words to coax him inside. Andromeda sits on the threshold, looking up at her human counterpart.

With Fabian still in your arms, you fidget with his ear, smoothing the fur between your thumb and forefinger in a self soothing motion. Swallowing hard, you draw up enough courage to ask,

“Would you like to come in?”

Aleksander nods, stepping forwards into your quarters. They aren’t as grand as his. The first room is a small study which you have filled to the brim with books. Through the next door is your bedroom, which has a tiny bathroom adjoined. Despite its size, it is the only home you’ve ever had for yourself and you take pride in it.

As you make your preparations for bed, Aleksander lights the fire, stoking the flames to warm the room for you. Once he’s done, he sits down on the armchair in the corner of your room and Fabian makes himself comfortable in Aleksander’s lap. Meanwhile, Andromeda stretches herself out on your bed.

Every time you walk by Andromeda, you offer her some sort of comforting touch - a scratch behind her ears or a pat to the head. Aleksander strokes his palm down the length of Fabian’s body and soon your dæmon is rolling over, offering his soft underbelly for affection.

When you settle at the head of your bed, Andromeda sits beside you, nuzzling affectionately at your face which makes you laugh softly, squeezing your eyes shut as you press your face further into her fur. Aleksander smiles softly as he stands, scooping Fabian up into his arms. He lowers your dæmon into your lap, placing a gentle kiss against your forehead.

“Good night,” he murmurs.

“Will you stay?” you ask in a whisper. He hesitates visibly and you can already hear his response. If he stays the night, someone will see him leave in the morning, and the rumours about you will never cease. “Just until I fall asleep.”

Aleksander stares at you for a long moment, his gaze flickering between your eyes before he nods. He sits down at the end of your bed, shuffling closer when you move towards the headboard. When you begin to wriggle under the covers, he holds your quilt for you, before tucking you in himself.

Fabian buries himself against your chest and you subconsciously begin to thread your fingers through his fur. Andromeda settles down by your side as your dæmon closes his eyes.

“Tell us something,” you murmur quietly. She tilts her head at you.

“About?”

A shy smile tugs at your lips and your eyes flutter sleepily as you murmur,

“Aleksander.”

She gives you a fond look, crossing her paws in front of herself as she settles comfortably to consider your request.

“What do you know about his grandfather?”

“Not much.”

“His dæmon was a stag. When he settled, they had to alter all the doorways in the manor because his antlers meant he was too wide to move from room to room.”

A soft laugh escapes you at the thought of a stag wandering through a lavish mansion, butting his antlers into every doorway.

“What form did his grandmother’s dæmon take?”

“A hare.”

“A very woodland themed family.”

She hums in agreement.

“Aleksander loved his grandparents dearly. They were better parents to him than his mother ever was.”

“His mother’s still alive,” you state cautiously. Aleksander doesn’t talk about his family very often, but you know his relationship with his mother is difficult. Andromeda nods slowly.

“She is.”

“What’s her dæmon like?”

“He’s a vulture.”

“Oh,” you say softly. Vultures are scavengers, they sit solitary at the edge of society and feed on whatever scraps they can wrangle for themselves. Someone with a vulture dæmon is typically self serving and preys on weakness. A stark contrast to Aleksander’s soft spoken yet fiercely loyal dæmon. “Does he speak?”

“Not to humans. If he talks to a dæmon it’s usually only to share a cutting remark or an insult, in my experience. I don’t even know his name.”

“Cassian,” Aleksander says quietly. Both you and Andromeda turn to look at him. “Baghra’s dæmon,” he clarifies at the sight of your confusion. “His name is Cassian.”

“He sounds horrible,” you remark.

Aleksander’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, as he stares into the space between you. He rubs at the back of his hand in a repetitive manner, his thumb circling over a particular patch of skin.

“After Andromeda settled, Baghra increased her efforts to drive us apart. Whenever I reached out to touch her, Cassian would bite my hand.”

“I don’t remember that,” Andromeda says in a low tone. He strokes her head firmly, a sombre expression on his face.

“It was either me or you. I couldn’t let her hurt you.”

She turns her head, licking his fingers in a rare show of outright emotion towards her human. Aleksander continues to stroke his hand down her body, his eyes fixed on the way her fur moves. Firelight flickers over them both and your eyes grow heavier with each passing moment.

Aleksander turns his head, his gaze falling onto you and he smiles softly at the sight of you fighting sleep.

“After my grandparents died, I inherited the manor.” He leans forwards, reaching for Fabian. He strokes your dæmon slowly. “We could go there together, away from prying eyes. It’s at its most beautiful in the springtime.”

His hand traces over Fabian’s spine, his fingertips dipping into every notch of bone. It fills your body with pleasurable tingles that makes your thighs shake and a haze creeps over your thoughts.

“I’d like that.”

Aleksander smiles indulgently, his voice lowering to a low whisper.

“You would?”

You hum in affirmation. Then a frown creases at your brows.

“S’not fair.”

His smile widens as he tilts his head at you.

“What’s that, darling?”

“You can’t stroke Fabian like that and expect me to stay awake.”

He chuckles fondly, his other hand brushing delicately over your cheek.

“My soft, sleepy girl. You need your rest.”

Defeated, you bury your face into your pillow with a pout puckering at your lips in protest. Fabian’s breathing is already becoming even as he begins to fall asleep and soon you will too. Aleksander brushes his hand over your hair gently, while his other hand strokes between Fabian’s ears. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Sweet dreams. Both of you.”

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

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OS Tag List: @the-sweet-psycho @aoi-targaryen

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#aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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chevalier-tialys · 1 year

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Out of the little grove, away from the baffled Specters, out of the valley, past the mighty form of his old companion the armor-clad bear, the last little scrap of the consciousness that had been the aeronaut Lee Scoresby floated upward, just as his great balloon had done so many times. Untroubled by the flares and the bursting shells, deaf to the explosions and the shouts and cries of anger and warning and pain, conscious only of his movement upward, the last of Lee Scoresby passed through the heavy clouds and came out under the brilliant stars, where the atoms of his beloved dæmon, Hester, were waiting for him.

The Amber Spyglass, Ch. 31 "Authority's End"

[ID in alt text]

#lee scoresby #lyra slivertongue #his dark materials #hdm #hisdarkmaterialsedit #hdmedit #hdmsource #usergeo #*a: gif #*a: described #image described #id in alt text #hdm spoilers #hdm show spoilers

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redfurrycat · 3 months

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🤠🐕‍🦺☃️🐾🏍️🐱🐓Animal Companions Fic Recs🐓🏍️🐱🐾☃️🐕‍🦺🤠

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: Aphroditedany, Bbr1, BeautifulCreature, Buckybraciole, Callsignyours, Demiclar, Emmedoesntdomath, Indybob, Kazanskysmitchell, Kerbyfullyloaded, LemonsAndSugarMakeLemonade, Lesbiseresin, LoveChildofInsertShowHere, SunMonTue, Teacupivy, ThisisYour_Captain_Speaking, ToukoJalorda003, Whimsicule.

Art Bonus - (coming soon)

> Mythological Creatures & Shapeshifters {🤠🐓} > Daily Heroes/Animal Care {🤠🐓}

his dark materials / dæmon AU by buckybraciole {T} {🤠🐓}

A series of one-shots about fighter pilots and their dæmons.

Golden Retriever Puppy by bbr1 {G} {🤠🐓}

“Have you ever had a dog?” Jake asks. “Nah, who am I kidding. Of course you haven’t. I’m going to get you a dog.”

Bad Idea! by LemonsAndSugarMakeLemonade {T} {🤠🐓/☃️🏍️}

Bradley: Hey, are you and Ice around? Well, this is slightly odd Mav thought but he replied anyway. Yeah, why? Bradley: We have our baby! We’ll be there in 10. Mav almost dropped his phone at the reply. What the fuck. Bradley Bradshaw, you better call me this instant.

A cat named Crow by LoveChildofInsertShowHere {T}

The Meowfect Evening {☃️🏍️}

Sometimes a kitten can make an evening even better

Some Birds Can't Fly {☃️🏍️}

Crow becomes more of a part of the Mitchell-Kazansky family

How Crow Won Slider's Heart {☃️🏍️}

Sometimes a cat will settle an insane debate better than Ice can

The Bumps in Quiet Nights {☃️🏍️}

Ice worries when Maverick takes too long to come back home from picking up dinner

And A Partridge in a Pear Tree {☃️🏍️}

Mav and Ice obtain 3 new family members in the form of kittens

Is it a Racoon? {🤠🐓/☃️🏍️}

Rooster meets the new additions to the Mitchell-Kazansky family and gets talked into getting a pet

Goosebumps {🤠🐓}

Jake and Bradley find the perfect cat for them, which brings up some emotions for Bradley

How to make a Flock {🤠🐓/☃️🏍️}

Mav discovers a box full of kittens on the side of the road on his way to suprise Ice at work

Nick's worst weekend ever by Aphroditedany {T} {🤠🐓}

Nick Bradshaw, Bradley Bradshaw's cat, might unexpectedly bring him closer to a charming co-pilot. It doesn't mean Nick likes it, though.

Skies of Dust by kerbyfullyloaded {T} {☃️🏍️}

Walking into the sky

Pete Mitchell was fourteen when his daemon settled. It took him a few years to join her in the sky, wings on his chest and steel all around him.

Every atom of me and every atom of you

The turn of a dial, snapshots of a life, dust all around. Maverick, Iceman, and their daemons in the years between 1987 and 2019. "'On,' said the alethiometer. Farther, higher. So on they climbed." The Subtle Knife (or: a series of stories based on the different symbols of the alethiometer, a sequel to Walking into the Sky)

at my side by demiclar {M} {☃️🏍️}

"If there's one thing Maverick is good at, it's taking care of his own." Slider said, throwing his arm around his shoulders and tugging him close. "I'm just glad we can return the favor from time to time." Pete Mitchell came back from the Dagger mission with PTSD worse than he'd ever experienced before. His family is eager to help, but piecing themselves back together after a decade of separation is a challenge not easily overcome. Pete isn’t the best at accepting help, and the family’s problems go deeper than expected, but they won’t stop trying until they bring everyone home.

Goose the Dog and Mav the Human, the Fun Never Ends by ThisisYour_Captain_Speaking {G}

Man's Best Friend

Maverick is one of the most kind hearted people ever and the things he loves, he does so with everything he has. Why not let him have a dog? AKA What if Theo was originally Mav's dog?

Well Well Well, What Have We Here?

It's Fourth of July Weekend and Ice has invited friends and their families over to celebrate. However, before the day of the actual celebration, Mav takes his dog Goose out for a run. Will they be able to beat the storm brewing or will Mav land himself in trouble yet again?

Wrench the Golden Retriever by emmedoesntdomath {T} {☃️🏍️}

“Mav, please tell me you didn’t get us a dog.” Silence. He sighed. The contractually obligated hey-I-bought-a-dog-without-asking-and-then-gave-it-a-name-you’ll-hate-but-you-should-still-love-me fic

call it what you want by lesbiseresin {M} {🤠🐓}

“Shit, Mav,” Bradley says through a laugh as he squats down, leaving his beer on the railing so he has both hands free to stick out. “You finally get me that dog I was always asking for?” It’s another joke. He knows that Theo belongs to Penny and Amelia, but there has to be a reason Maverick is bringing this up. “You caught me,” Maverick deadpans. Bradley can see Penny elbow him out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t bother looking up, too engrossed in the happy pants Theo is letting out as Bradley switches to scratching under his chin. “You could say I did. Sort of.” “Sort of, huh?” (alternatively: jake & bradley getting their shit together ft. theo the dog)

Dust is Everlasting (And Love Even Moreso) by ToukoJalorda003 {M} {🤠🐓/☃️🏍️}

If Time Rewound to Dust (Love Would Endure Anyway)

All Rooster had ever wanted was to work for Jurassic World - his godfather did, and for his whole life, it had been his dream. Now he finally had it, and he…wasn’t so sure how he felt about Hangman. The man was just too dangerous, too unpredictable, and Rooster feared it would end in disaster. …But disaster had found them anyway, and now it was starting to look like it was too late to accept Hangman’s offer for a date. Damn.

When Dust is all That Remains (Love is Eternally Present)

After the events of the park’s catastrophic closing, Bradley just wanted to rest. Maybe take a nap and remind himself what he’d nearly had. But he couldn’t do that, because an active volcano was going to wipe out the remaining dinosaurs - including Jake’s raptors. …And if it was possible, he wasn’t going to let that happen. Maybe, while he was at it, he’d finally get that date, too.

be the ocean where I unravel by whimsicule {T} {🤠🐓}

He’s not even thirty years old. A lieutenant in the United States Navy. A highly-decorated aviator with two air-to-air kills. And he’s suddenly gone ahead and become scared of the goddamn sea. What a fucking joke.

make a lil' room for me by callsignyours {G} {🤠🐓}

Jake somehow ends up with Bradley's dog.

The Tiniest Problem by BeautifulCreature {G} {🤠🐓}

Bradley has an allergic reaction to his and Jake's new puppy.

Mine, Immaculate Dream by kazanskysmitchell {M} {☃️🏍️}

After the ever-so-stressful Dagger mission, Pete Mitchell is tired and craves some normalcy. It's seemingly difficult for him to return to normal this time, and his protective (and very worried) husband can't help but notice the changes in Pete's mental health. After an official PTSD diagnosis, being permanently grounded, and the adoption of a service dog, Pete Mitchell attempts to adjust, but can't do it without the help of his wingman and their adopted and dysfunctional family. (+ art from Cannibal_Hellhound)

better than your best dreams by teacupivy {M} {🤠🐓}

“Hey,” he says, nudging Bradly with his toes. “You brought Aubergine in, right?” Jake watches Bradley look up from his screen, stare into the mid distance, and decide to lie to him. “…Yes.” Tense and robotic, he slides his laptop onto the coffee table and slips out from beneath Jake’s legs. “Unrelated, I’ll be right back.”

With our pets, a house becomes our home by SunMonTue {E} {🤠🐓}

Jake adopts a puppy and then proceeds to fly across the country to take up a flight instructor position at Corpus Christi where Bradley is the vet (DVM) that Jake takes Brisket to once he arrives. Bradley asks him out. MeetCute.

Domestic Bliss by indybob {T} {🤠🐓}

Jake has had the longest week of his life. Between hops, training, and instructing, he’s worn out. Noticing how exhausted his husband is, Bradley takes it upon himself to go above and beyond to give Jake the most relaxing evening and weekend possible. Or: Much like Jake in this story, I’ve been very busy for the last couple of weeks, so I’m using this as my own form of catharsis. Feat. Brisket the Dog

Come on baby light my fire… by SunMonTue {E} {🤠🐓}

An apartment fire alarm at 1am featuring Jake in his underwear and Bradley with kittens.

#Animal Companions Recs List #hangster #sereshaw #hangaroo #icemav #iceman x maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw x jake hangman seresin #tom iceman kazansky x pete maverick mitchell #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈

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magebird · 5 months

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What if a His Dark Materials AU? Details of my thoughts under the cut.

So Roberto and Meryl have a badger and a lemur and Meryl is so excited to be in the black-and-white fur club with her senpai. Something something metaphors about learning to see shades of grey lol if we want to be heavy-handed with it. Definite primate vibes from Meryl— outgoing, loud when angered, high level of connection to her social group. Very intelligent and not so good completely solo.

Roberto meanwhile is a nocturnal animal, but still a social one. Badgers have been known to share their burrows even with other species, but can be really ferocious when under pressure. Also a very vocal species— they talk a lot.

I like the idea that for WW and Livio, the EoM tries really hard to force their members to settle according to their wishes, just as an extension of that manipulation. Mostly aiming for dogs probably or other animals that they feel can be forced to obey. For WW, a wolf was as close to a dog as they could get, and I like the idea that Livio(/Razlo)’s dæmon seems to flick back and forth between just a big dog and a true wolf depending on which personality is dominating. I imagine you’d also see some of the EoM lackeys being severed, as well, since that would make them biddable even if the rest of the brainwashing didn’t.

Vash’s mourning dove dæmon is also a prosthetic lol. I imagine Brad knew he’d need one to pass among humans and the form is a version of Rem’s white dove.

I also considered a St Bernard or some sort of hunting hound for Roberto, but I ultimately decided that something outside the domestic dog category would fit better. WW I think would also fit with a lot of different wild dog options, maybe something like a melanistic coyote, jackal, or painted dog that has that hunting instinct.

Legato was maybe severed as part of the abuse he had growing up, or forced to settle as something they could easily control like a butterfly or something else very vulnerable to harm, so he’s extremely protective and hides his dæmon.

Zazie is one of the first kids who ever settled as a worm on the new planet and then became part of the worm consciousness.

As a Plant, Nai doesn’t have a dæmon either in this setup, but I thought also about him and Vash sharing a dæmon or a chimera/two-headed dæmon. Ultimately I like the idea of them just not having an external dæmon and it being just another Othering thing. Perhaps Nai’s blades often end up shaping into a dragon or something.

I’m imagining part of the Plant-reveal on the sandsteamer would be Vash’s fake dæmon getting fried or destroyed which causes them to realize it’s not real.

#trigun #trigun stampede #my art #mage art #Roberto De Niro #roberto deniro #Meryl stryfe #Livio the double fang #Livio #nicholas d wolfwood #Vash the stampede #his dark materials #image desc in alt #hdm AU

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coyotepawsteps · 1 year

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have Not used tumblr in a bit + not exactly sure how much attention this post will end up getting but like. Whatever. i’m gonna do this anyway

… So. i’ve been hyperfixating a Lot on hazbin hotel, have read like at least 500k words of fanfic in the past..2? 3 weeks? the past month? (i’ve been hyperfixated so strongly that i genuinely don’t know how much time has passed lmao) and apparently i have reached the point of Enjoying A Fandom/Specific Characters So Strongly That I’m Starting To Think About Writing Dæmon AU Fanfiction. which leads me to the point of making this post, which is asking anybody who is interested about their own thoughts on hazbin hotel dæmons. form finding, characterizations, names, dæmon identities, stuff like that (i kinda have my own idea on how dæmons work with afterlives, but i’d also love to hear other people’s dæ worldbuilding ideas too). currently i’m most interested in alastor, husk, n angel dust, but would still like to hear anything abt the other characters as well

not expecting this to get much attention at all, dæmon aus with hazbin hotel seem to be very very unpopular (checked ao3 and there weren’t any fanfics in the tag search) but i figured i might as well still throw this out into the void in hopes that at least One other person might be interested in this stuff too <3

#🐾 • aspen speaks #hazbin hotel #daemon au #dæmon au #daemonism #dæmonism #form finding #dæmon form finding

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idkaguyorsomething · 7 months

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okay, but imagine what a person’s daemon would look like when they’re a baby. tiny newborns cuddling in their cradles with their daemon in the form of a puppy. strollers with extra straps to prevent child’s daemons from getting caught under the wheels. toddlers just starting to figure the world out whose daemons imitate their parents, since those are some of the first forms they’d ever see

#that last one is basically canon #pan did it when he met the golden monkey #his dark materials #daemons #dæmon #dæmonism #idk if they ever clarify if daemons take younger forms when their humans are younger #but it feels like it would be strange for them not to #they’re people’s souls and a baby’s soul is just barely getting started out

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tadpolesonalgae · 11 months

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Demon!Azriel x Reader: Teeth and Talons - Part 5[*?]

A/N: Baby steps, Azzie. Baby steps.

Warnings: degradation, sexual tension, almost smut, 6.9K words

-Part 4- -Part 6-

You wake to the feeling of a wet snout pressing into the crook of your neck.

Azriel.

You jerk away from the large creature, deep hazel shining through the darkness of his blacked out eyes. “I’ve told you not to do that,” you snap groggily at him. He ignores you. Typical. You shift away from him again but flinch when his tongue lolls out, flicking over the bare skin as he tastes you, shoving tighter against your body. Your fingers thread through his fur for purchase, gripping him as you tug lightly, ordering him to get off you.

“Azriel…I’m trying to sleep, can you not?” The male merely growls softly in response. You huff, then yelp when he shifts—more toward his humanoid form—one powerful arm wrapping beneath your torso as he smushes you against him. You hesitate. He’s never this affectionate. The only time he particularly cares to touch you is while he’s fucking you—or breeding you, as he so detachedly calls it. Your nose crinkles at his wording alone. It makes it sound so unemotional. You suppose fucking isn’t exactly any better.

You sigh. The bathhouse had been nice, in a way. He’d seemed to care about your pain, though you were unsure if that was due to you being his bride or not. Perhaps it was a proprietary instinct. You sometimes wondered if he had any attachment to you or if it was just that you held the title of bride. The name had become a weight, as of late.

“Get ready,” he says, finally pulling from your body, allowing you to flop unceremoniously back into the plethora of pillows—you still don’t know where they had come from, they just sort of appeared one night. You peer up at him, fingers still laced in the fur that dusts the corded muscle of his upper paws. “For what?” You narrow your eyes at the male, his features completely blank, save for the light reflecting in his mostly onyx gaze.

He growls softly at the questioning, but relents. “Out.” You stare up at him—glare up at him—silently willing him to understand how unhelpful he is. His brow dips when you don’t release him. You wonder why he doesn’t just pull away, it wouldn’t be too much effort. You both know he’s far superior to you in terms of, well, everything…

“It will do you some good to go outside again. It’s been a week.” Since you were dragged through unending marshland, cold biting at your soggy skin. You shake your head, “I don’t want to.” The light in his eyes sharpens to something more lethal, more dæmon-like. “Either you prepare, or I take you as you are.” Almost entirely unclothed. “It’s for your own good,” he adds when your fingers loosen their grip, “your kind shouldn’t go long without the light of the world.”

Your lips twist in a satiric smile, “I would have thought your kind would detest the sun.” It had become a game of sorts—to yourself, you doubt Azriel derives any sort of pleasure from humour—to see how many passive aggressive comments you could make before he finally picks up on them.

He doesn’t deign you with a response.

“I need you to get off me in order to change,” you deadpan, unthreading your hands from his fur, albeit reluctantly. His brows narrow but he removes himself from you, shifting to stand at the edge of the bed, waiting silently as you move to the chest that holds your clothes. “Where are you taking me?” You don’t look at him as you speak, though you feel his gaze stabbing between your shoulder blades. “Out.” He repeats. You drop the clothes in frustration, spinning on your feet, “I need to know more than ‘out’ so I can dress appropriately.”

His arms fold over his chest as his features morph into what can only be described as a grimace, his eyes glazed. They sharpen again, as if he had come out of thought. “By a river.”

“By a river…” you repeat, trying not to show your exasperation. Your fingers find your temples as you rub lightly, then move to the bridge of your nose. You take a deep breath, returning your gaze to him, “and the temperature? The weather?”

“Fine.”

“I need more than fine, Azriel.” His brow narrows—he’s getting impatient.

He prowls across the room on lethally silent feet. You take a step back slowly, your thighs bumping into the chest, making you stumble. Hastily, you right yourself, in time to see the male pull an ankle length dress from the wooden box. He forcefully pushes it into your arms, his inhuman strength having you yield a step with the momentum behind it. Then he’s grabbing you by your upper arm, pulling you tight against him, free hand gripping your hip as shadows and darkness swarms around you. Just like how they had when he had first found you.

A horrifying weightlessness overtakes you, and you grip onto him in any way you can as something like wind howls in your ears. And then it’s over, and you’re stood on grass. You blink; he releases you. Immediately, your arms crisscross over your body, stepping into the large build of his body.

He watches you keenly—you’re panicking. His hands grip your shoulders, steadying you. “What is it?” You glare up at him, fury and fear blazing together in your eyes. “‘What is it?’” You seethe, “I’m practically bare!” You hiss, eyes jumping about as you scan for other people that would inevitably be around. “What is—” you cut yourself off, “why did you do this? What did I do wrong?” Ire lights your eyes as they return to his, “what if someone sees me? Do you not understand human dignity?” You snap, angrily.

His fingers tighten on your shoulders in silent reprimand. “You think I would bring you somewhere other eyes could see you?” Azriel growls, displeasure shining through his usually bland tone. You tilt your head at that, confusion marring your features. “What’s that supposed to mean? And what does it matter if people see me?” You retort. When he opens his mouth to respond, lips twisted down at the edges, you hurriedly beat him to it—which he does not appreciate. “With clothes on.”

“You’re my bride,” he says simply, voice rough around the edges, as if that clears everything up. You furrow your brows at him, still skittish from the idea of someone seeing, and it makes you jumpy. His wings flare at his back, furling around you as you’re hidden from sight, despite him knowing there’s not another soul anywhere nearby.

Contemplation flashes through your eyes at the action, making you pause. You clear your throat, tension slowly seeping from your body, “calling me your bride doesn’t explain anything to me.” Your voice has evened out. It seems you’ve calmed now that your imagined threat is held at bay. A kernel of satisfaction sprouts in his chest.

“Until the ceremony, you are to be kept under my watch from now on.” Your head tilts, like a curious animal. You’re picking up on some less-human mannerisms, and it pleases him. The less human you appear, the easier he can forget about the Ritual.

“What ceremony? Why only now?”

“Stop asking so many questions. They bore me.” Your fingers tighten on the dress he’d shoved in your direction. “I’m so sorry they bore you, Azriel.” His brow dips at your tone, sensing you want to argue. “Get changed if you’re uncomfortable. You have clothes.”

“Where am I supposed to change?” You bite out, clutching the dress closer to your torso. “Here.”

You stare up at him, taken aback. “In front of you?”

“Does it bother you?” Your eyes widen, lips parting in shock.

“We’re in public,” you beseech, “can’t you use those shadows or something? I’m not having you watch while I change!”

“You would like my hands on you as well as my eyes?” It’s impossible but you manage to look positively scandalised. You splutter up at him, while he watches silently. “You can feel? With those shadows?” You murmur.

Azriel nods, pleasure warming him as you flush. All you can think about is every quiet brush they’ve given you, every small push to get you out of bed, every touch as you fall asleep, every lick between your thighs. You swallow, “oh…” He waits. “I didn’t…I didn’t know that.” You clear your throat at a poor attempt at modesty.

Heat always seems to twist inside him whenever you try to appear dignified. The promise he’ll get to spoil it.

You realise he’s waiting for you to change, and you tug your lower lip between your teeth, “can you at least close your eyes?” They seem to sharpen at your comment, taking you in with renewed interest. “You seemed to like my eyes on you when I had my tongue between your legs.” You suck in a sharp breath, cheeks heating as you freeze, mouth open at his salacious statement.

“There is a time and a place for everything,” you manage, primly, locking your eyes on a space below his jaw. “When’s the time and place for breeding you again?” He drawls casually, silently revelling at the heat radiating from your body. Maybe he said that simply to get a rise out of you. You take a step back from him, but his shadows glide up your legs—up the backs of your bare thighs—to keep you in place as they twine about. He can scent the arousal that’s alight in your belly, the beast inside of him wishing for nothing more than to pin you to the ground and fuck you into the dirt.

He knows you would enjoy it.

Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, watching the moment his pupils dilate, the only sign of his own arousal your human senses can pick up on. Fear and heat twine together, making a mess of your insides. “Strip.” Your mouth goes dry at the quiet command. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips that are suddenly dry, but regret it when his blown out eyes mark the movement.

“I…” you stammer, his gaze flicking up to yours with arrogant expectation. “Not now…” you request softly—fearfully. “I don’t— Not after…” Not after the everlasting fields of freezing mud you were dragged through, thinking every breath was the last before you were pulled beneath the stagnant pools of water. “I’m telling you to change,” he drawls, and shame heats your body, looking away hurriedly. You hate it when he misleads you like that, plays his games with you that leave you stumbling blindly after him, in a mix of fear and confusion. A mess of emotions.

You try to push your embarrassment down, but you know he can sense every sign your human body reveals to him, leaving you stripped bare before him. As though you’re strapped to a dissection table for him to examine at his pleasure. “Go on,” he encourages, dark amusement underlying his tone as his eyes pierce into you.

Swallowing, you turn away from him, sliding the straps of the silky night vest off your shoulders. “You think it wise to turn your back to me?” He drawls. You freeze when his shadows wrap around your waist, slipping beneath your top. He can feel all of that. “Azriel…” you breathe, shakily, “why did you bring me here? Really?” You turn your head, peering at him demurely from over the bare slope of your shoulder.

The dim hazel of his eyes is cold; hard. Despite the sun in the sky, hairs raise across your body beneath his icy gaze. “Because you need it.” He replies, mouth set in its usual bland line.

“Who are you to say what I need?” You murmur quietly, watching him through your lashes. His shadows thicken, beginning to blot out the sun. The male prowls closer, wings tightening around you, “do you believe differently?”

“I believe I would like to have my agency returned, and not have you lord over me.”

“You’d like me to leave you alone?” You dip your head. Yes, that would be perfect. “That ended well the last time, didn’t it?” He drawls, words bladed with a lethal edge.

Heat ravages your body, “you’re not putting that on me.”

His wings circle tighter, and with a final shove, you’re sent stumbling into him, his hands snaking round your waist, brushing over your hips as they choose to set themselves at the small of your back. “If you hadn’t been so set on remaining a lone creature, then no. It wouldn’t have happened,” he growls.

“So what? I’m supposed to remain locked in your chambers until…? When? You were the one who stressed how my kind need to feel the outside world every once in while, yet now you’re trying to take that away from me?” Anger freezes his eyes, warmth seeping from the hazel as they’re swallowed by blackness.

“If you would just learn to obey me, you wouldn’t find your life riddled with such suffering,” he snarls softly, shadows completely blocking out the sun. “Obey you?” You utter quietly, staring up at him in horrified disbelief. “And why would I ever do that?” With each word, his hands raise higher, until they’re set on your waist. “Because you chose to submit to me, remember?” He snarls, lip curling. “I made it very clear. Gave you every opportunity to pull away. But you were the one who came to me, the one who crawled on her hands and knees to me, every night.” One hand leaves your waist, only to wrap around your throat. “Or do you need a reminder what you were crawling for?”

You bristle at his owning touch, wanting to shrink away, knowing how easily he could snap your neck. “You don’t own me,” you tremble, feeling the squeeze of his fingers, the press of his hips—and something else you dare not acknowledge—as he pulls you tight against his body. “You can’t—…you can’t tell me what to do. Or order me about like that. That’s not how—” you cut yourself off, before you lay more of your aching heart bare to him, “that’s not right.”

A terrifying silence echoes between you, freezing ire blazing in the depths of his pitch black eyes. He jerks you closer, squeezing your neck as he curls down, features sharpening, turning beastly. “What’s stopping me?”

Heat wells behind your eyes as the extent of his power dawns on you. No one’s going to stop him, and between him and the beasts that stole you away, he knows that to you he’s the lesser evil. So you’ll remain with him until he’s done with you, because he’s the best that you have. “That’s right,” he murmurs over your mouth, “you can’t do anything against me. If I want something from you, I’m going to take it.”

He releases you, suddenly. So suddenly you don’t have a chance to realise how dependant you’d become on him until he removes his support. Your knees buckle as you stumble, crashing to the floor, bare knees hitting the grass. “Now, why don’t we start on getting you properly trained, and have you change out of those damned clothes?” He growls quietly, not an ounce of amusement to be found, getting off on how far he can push you. How low he can shove you.

The dress is still clutched to your chest, both straps of your vest spilling off your arms. Shakily, you move to stand, so you can follow his orders, like he wants.

Azriel lifts his boot from the ground, pressing it down on your shoulder painfully. You wince at the heavy pressure, collapsing back onto your knees. “I think you should stay down there a little longer,” he drawls, sadism shining in his charcoal gaze, “help you learn your place.”

Shame weighs heavily on you as you bow your head, too hurt and embarrassed to look at him. He’d been so gentle before—asking you where the pain was so he could stop it. How are you supposed to resolve the polar opposites of his character?

You choose to further repress the part of you that wants him to push you down into the dirt.

He removes his boot, allowing you to follow through with his orders. You refuse to look up as you kneel in front of him—the Mother knows where it would lead. You peel away the silk of your top, and you suck in a sharp breath of air between your teeth when his shadows grow at your back. They build, their cool caress like whispers over your skin as they wrap around your middle, flowing across your stomach before branching upward, cupping your breasts.

Azriel releases a pleased growl when you don’t attempt to move away from them, allowing his shadows to brush your skin, flick gently over your nipples. He sees you biting your lip but says nothing about your silence, just content you’ve finally obeyed him and adorned yourself in the dress.

Ever so slowly, you raise up onto your knees, and it takes a surprising amount of effort on his end to not grab your oblivious form by the hair and pull you against his hips. He can only imagine what you would look like, lips swallowing his cock, tongue licking over the tip, tears rolling down your cheeks. He grits his teeth as he imagines how you would look with his come decorating your cheeks, the erotic liquid like a smattering of freckles. Maybe you’d swallow him down. Open your mouth wide with a smile to show him how obedient you’d been.

One day, he swears to himself, one day he’ll have you trained well enough you’ll do that unprompted.

The perfect, superficial symbol of innocence for him to have fun with.

You manage to get to your feet, and flush when you look down at yourself. The dress is cream, light and breathable, as modest as any dress you would normally wear out. Sleeves down to the wrist, hem down to your ankles, the neck concealing your collar bones. It feels like a small snippet of home, and you allow your fingers to graze the crisp material.

“Thank me.”

You peer up at him, arms wrapping across your chest, keeping your nightclothes in your hands. “‘Thank me’?” You echo, voice shaking. “For what?” You swear something like amusement gleams in his eyes as he leans down, so he can stare at you. “For bringing you to a river instead of dumping you in some frozen wasteland for the beasts to fight over.”

Then his wings are pulling away, shadows retracting back to him, light returning to your skin.

You stare up at him, wide-eyed, and feel yourself fracture. The tiniest break, splitting along your vertebrae. Your lips part slightly, vision blurring with painful confusion. He’s so…volatile. You can never tell what mood he’s in. Whether he’ll be nice to you, let you nestle into his fur when he shifts to sleep, or whether he’ll snarl and snap, degrade and punish you until your pieces are lying scattered across the ground.

“Why must you say things like that?” You ask weakly. Keeping yourself together in front of him. He’d enjoy your destruction, no doubt. You won’t give him the satisfaction. Not this time, at least.

“I will not repeat myself to you.”

You hear the words loud and clear. I will not repeat myself to a human. The edges of your mouth wobble, but you straighten your spine, raising your chin. “Do you find them funny?” Your voice trembles, but you dig your nails into your palms as you lower your fists to your side. “Does it entertain you to torment my people? To be so cruel to me?” A muscle feathers in your jaw as you try to maintain your stance, but it’s difficult to do when you’ve seen the carnage he can wreak.

“Do you find amusement in belittling me? Hope to push me until I crumble before you, like the weak human I am?” Your mouth is set in a sad line, turned down at the edges while your pupils are blown out with fear. You take a small, trembling step forward, craning your neck to stare him down, baring your throat. He could rip it out before you even know he’s moving. It’s a quiet taunt on your part, perhaps the only act of rebellion he will tolerate. One where you’re put at his mercy.

“I will weather you, Azriel. And I will not crumble. For some reason, the gods have thrown me to you, but I trust in them to guide me, so until my last breath, I will stand against you, and use my every skill to push back.” You silently pray you haven’t been abandoned. That some entity watches over you, still.

A small kernel of hope lights in your chest as you move to walk past him, and he does not reach to murder or maim you.

A shudder passes through your body as your feet carry you farther and farther away, enjoying the distance they give you as they move you to the river bank.

You hadn’t had a chance to admire it’s beauty, the pebbled land beside the babbling river. The willow trees that line it’s edge, swaying with the breeze. You could sigh with contentment as the light wind catches at your dress, playing with its hem. You make your way toward the edge of the grassland, and a slight drop down onto the small shore has you crouching to make the jump.

Some distance away, Azriel watches you. He feels disturbed; ruffled. He should be splattering you on the stones, drowning you in a muddy field, but he can’t find so much as a spark of anger. Instead, he feels strangely calm.

You’d spoken so softly to him, and though he hadn’t liked what you had to say, you’d been so understated he’d been left with a yawning pit inside his chest yet nothing was filling it. Rage should be pouring in, lighting his skin, but he just feels empty. Itchy, almost skittish.

If you had spoken at him with fury, or hatred, he would be able to retaliate.

A low growl sounds in his chest with grim frustration at your strategies. He’s not familiar with your quiet warfare. He wants to get under your skin, make you spark up like he does, wants you to bare you fangs at him and show your talons but you insist on keeping them hidden.

Maybe he’d misjudged you.

Maybe you don’t even have any claws to bare.

————

You feel jumpy with him being so silent.

You sneak a peek at him from the corner of your eye, crouching beside the shallow river. He’s shifted into a more beastly form, fur covering him, snout resting over the powerful muscle of one of his paws, wings tucked into his sides while he lies on his stomach.

You do your best to ignore him, but he’s been surprisingly docile, snoozing peacefully in the dappled shade of a willow tree. Sometimes you think you feel his eyes on you, but they’re always closed when you turn to check.

The water looks delightfully cool, and you consider dipping your feet in, only to be reminded how inappropriate that would be. Especially with male company.

A butterfly flutters up to you and you yelp, falling backward with surprise as it remains in your face. You stiffen, squeezing your eyes shut. Something tickles the bridge of your nose, and when you open your eyes, you see it’s settled down.

You scream, reeling back as you frantically brush it from your face, heart pounding as you feel the flutter of it’s wings against your palms. It leaves you in peace, thankfully, as you shudder, wiping down your hands on your dress, trying to rid them of that spasmodic sensation.

Azriel growls lowly, displeased at your racket, cracking open a single eye to peer at your form. You quickly turn away when you see he’s watching you, freezing where you are, waiting for him to inevitably prowl up behind you, poised to rip you apart. But he just huffs, settling back into his dozing.

Maybe he likes it here.

You suppose it wouldn’t be unreasonable. You used to see creatures lazing by the riverside before you were snatched away. How they would bathe in the water then dry off on the large, flat rocks. They looked so peaceful and calm, relaxing in the sun, made drowsy from the heat.

A bead of sweat slides down your temple and you hastily brush it aside. It’s getting quite hot.

Well, it’s either settle beside him in the limited shade, or wander to the river. The willow trees provide a small amount of shadow on the opposite side, which is perhaps six large steps across from you. One look at the sleeping beast has you getting to your feet and gingerly tip-toeing to the water’s edge.

You lift the hem of your dress, so it comes to your knees as you take a small step into the cool stream. It’s shockingly cold, considering the heat, and you quickly remove your toes from it’s freezing current. But you’re still to hot, so you try again.

It takes you a while before you’re able to wander deeper, the peaceful water raising to your ankles. You sigh with contentment, eyes sliding shut for a moment as a breeze blows past you, ruffling your hair as it spins the wisps from your face, pleasantly cooling your heated skin. You take a few small steps farther, entering the dip in the riverbed.

The water rises to your calves, and you raise your dress higher, bunching it so it’s just below your hips. The shade washes over you, now up to the tops of your thighs in the babbling stream, the deepest it goes. Perfectly safe, and calm. Surprisingly tranquil.

Until that damned butterfly.

It’s returned with a pair, and they flutter straight into you, dancing around your head as they twirl and flap. You flinch, foot slipping on the slick river stones, and you drop.

The water swallows you, freezing cold shocking against your skin as your eyes squeeze shut, lips sealing against the invasive pressure of the river. The iciness seeps into your bones too quickly, cooling your sun warmed skin in an instant, and suddenly you’re back in the marshland. Like you never escaped in the first place.

The rain is lashing against your skin, wind whipping your hair as it cracks against your muddied cheeks, lightening and thunder sparking in the sky as it booms across the clouds. Your fingers sink into thickened, sludgy water as you claw for air, heart slamming against your ribs as the bed gives out beneath you.

It feels as though there’s no bottom, and you can’t tell up from down, and you need air dear gods you need air and—

In the back of your mind, you hear something from the outside world splash. And then something is hooking beneath you, hoisting you from the water and you splutter, gasping for precious air. The world’s swaying slightly when you manage to open your eyes, collapsing against the sturdy warmth beneath you.

You swallow, looking down as you use your hands to push your upper body straight. You choke on saliva in surprise as you realise you’re perched on his snout, legs hooked either side it’s bridge, your hands resting on the space between his eyes. You’re in his blind spot.

You yelp as he begins to move, flattening yourself against his wet fur as he shifts out of the water, disrupting its flow as if cutting through butter that’s been left in the sun. Your legs squeeze him as your grab at his fur, tensing as he prowls out of the water, so quiet despite his large form.

A thin branch of willow traces over your spine with how high he’s raised you and you flinch, shuddering as the wind begins to freeze your water-soaked dress. He growls as he brings you into the sun, leaping up onto the grassy bank, lowering to a crouch for you to slide off as he begins to shift.

It catches you by surprise though, and you tighten your grip in his fur, trying to keep from slumping to the ground. It doesn’t do much to help you—you end up flat on your back, eyes squeezed shut, hands still fisted in his fur.

“Get off me.”

He’s looking more familiar, hazel eyes returned, humanoid features peaking through against the natural sharpness of his dæmon complexion.

Your heart is still pounding, but you can feel the breeze, can feel the grass beneath your back, and you’re inhaling the clean air that’s void of any stagnant smells. Your vision blurs as you stare up at him, pulling your hands away.

You feel wrecked.

You curl up into yourself, rolling onto your side, covering your face with your hands as tremors run through your skin. Your lungs spasm as your breathing increasing, turning to startling gasps, quick and hurried. You grit your teeth, muscles contracting across your body as your brow furrows, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you try to block out the onslaught on memories.

With a frustrating amount of effort, you roll onto your stomach, crawling out from under him, but his hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you back. You grunt as you hit the ground, his shadows rolling you over so you’re facing him.

“What was that?”

He’s watching you intently, and you feel a spark of anger toward him, but quickly smother it. It wouldn’t be wise to piss him off, not when he just hauled you out of that river.

“What was what?” You manage, mouth trembling. His lip curls as you feign ignorance. “That.”

You exhale a shaky breath, pushing up onto your elbows. He doesn’t yield any space as you prop yourself up, your faces inches apart. You try to shuffle back but he prowls after you. “You can’t swim.”

“I can swim perfectly fine,” you breathe, trying not to let his proximity overwhelm you. “I just slipped.”

“You were scared.”

“I was not.” You insist.

“I can feel it. You’re still scared.”

“I am not.” You don’t think it’s a good idea to let him know your fears. “Is it me?” He growls, lowering closer to you, “do I scare you?”

“Not one bit.” It’s an obvious lie, but one said to protect yourself. He knows it as well as you do.

“Liar.”

Piss off.

“You don’t scare me.” You lift closer to him, praying your arms don’t give out as your mouth brushes his. “You can’t kill me. I’m your bride.”

“I can do worse than kill you.”

“If you wanted to, you would have. If you wanted to, you wouldn’t have come to get me when I was—” You swallow, pushing away the memories as they invasively press against your mind. “You wouldn’t have saved me,” you admit, refusing to back away, calmly standing your ground as he bares down on you.

Fuck, you’re so close to him. If he just lowers his mouth, just shifts a little closer—

The river water has soaked your dress, highlighting every dip and line of your body, showing off the shape of your breasts without revealing anything. And you’re beneath him. If he just lifts your dress, he could get to you. You’re practically begging for him to take you, with that scent of yours, those quietly determined eyes…

“You wouldn’t have helped me out of the river just now, either.”

Azriel zones back in, eyes lifting from your body to return to your face, and your mouth.

“I don’t know if it has something to do with my supposed ‘perfect compatibility’, but so far, you’ve managed to keep from hurting me. Even if you’ve been wildly unpleasant during the course of my stay.”

He curses silently. There you go, acting all prim and proper again, letting foolish human dignity guide your actions. Heat coils down his spine, boiling beneath his skin. Your prudish nature, the cream gown that’s accentuating the inherent eroticism he finds in you, the firm set of your eyes as you steadily take him in— He feels himself hardening.

“‘Wildly unpleasant’?” He snarls softly, moving forward, forcing you to yield ground or else his mouth will connect with your own. “I’ve been nothing but generous to you,” he grits out. His pupils are dilated, pulse picking up as he again imagines you in all sorts of positions you would surely wish to slap him for picturing.

How good your mouth would feel, how perfect you would look kneeling. His shadows whisper to him, repeating how you’d moaned his name.

‘Azriel’

‘Az’

‘Azzie…’

“You stole me from my home,” you accuse, softly. His breathing seems shallower, and you wonder if he needs to move into the shade. The sun’s been beating down on his back for a while now. Even your own clothes have more or less stopped dripping. He must be boiling.

A harsh breath hisses from his teeth. “You seem to conveniently forget that it was me who saved you.”

“In that frozen wasteland, yes.” You repeat his words back to him, with a little more bite that you had intended. His lip pulls back from his teeth, gritting them against the urge to wrap his arm beneath your back to pull your chest tight against him. Just to have you touching him in some way. Not this taunting game you’re playing, keeping him just out of reach.

“You were going to be eaten in that forest. I took you from those creatures. They would have shredded your soft skin with the gentlest brush of their teeth.”

Your lips purse. He’s got you there.

“Nothing to say against that?” He taunts quietly, moving so you have to look at him. He needs to get this conversation wrapped up so he can put his own teeth on you. It’s been so long since he last tasted you, and his tongue flicks against his canines with anticipation, mouth watering.

He watches as your eyes dip away from his, body stiffening as your gaze lands between his legs. Heat flushes your cheeks and he needs you. You move backward, raising a hand to press against his shoulder as he inevitably follows. Something like a mix between a growl and a purr sounds in his chest, and your lower belly heats.

“Azriel…” You warn, pressing harder against him as you try to crawl away. His arm snakes around your back, smushing you against him but he needs more, needs to have you riding him. He needs you to need him.

“I don’t believe you’re hurt when I pleasure you.” He growls, and you feel every letter on your lips, the aroused drag of his voice as his hand trails lower, settling on the swell of your ass. “In fact, I think you rather enjoy me. As much as you try to deny yourself.” You shake your head, attempting denial. But then his large palm scoops beneath you, lifting you up and you have to grab onto his neck to keep from falling backward.

He pulls back, so he’s kneeling on the grass, keeping you tight against him, not an ounce of space between your chests and finally he feels himself begin to relax. He indulges in the decadent feel of your body over his, the elegant sweep of your arms, the rise and fall of your chest, the way your thighs tense with how close you are.

You gasp, hurriedly untangling your arms from his shoulders as you attempt to pull your dress down that’s ridden up to your thighs. Azriel growls, gaze dropping to between your legs as he thumbs the front of your dress up further, revealing you to him. This time you swear he purrs, shadows gripping your hips as he raises you to perch atop his cock.

“Azriel, stop.” You bark with surprising force, palms splaying across his broad shoulders in attempts to leverage yourself.

His large, near-black eyes bare into you, and it’s a struggle to keep his gaze. You realise his pupils are dilating. No, not dilating. Almost splitting— seeping across his irises and they begin to fill the whites of his eyes.

Oh.

“Azriel, do not—”

He’s already shifting, eyes dimming to pitch black, carnal features sharpening as his canines protrude from his upper lip. In another situation, you might have been in awe as you feel him shift, actually feel how the skin grows to accommodate the transformation. Traitorous heat flushes your cheeks as you feel his fur brush against your legs, your inner thighs—

You can feel his cock at your entrance, and you think you might already be dripping down onto him.

A large, taloned hand lifts your chin as his hips press upward, making to guide himself deeper into your heat. “Just the tip,” he taunts, that lazy drawl of his setting something fluttering between your legs. “You can manage the tip, can’t you?” Your nails bite into his skin but he doesn’t even feel it. “Don’t you ‘just the tip’, me,” you whisper, finding it difficult to speak properly with the knowledge that you could just sink down—

No, you can’t let him do this. He has a mastery over lulling you into a state of submissive arousal, using his temptation to seduce you in obeying him.

What were you talking about again?

Satisfaction glides down his spine as he notes your glazed eyes, how you’re becoming more pliant beneath his touch. Just a little longer, and you’ll be sinking down into his lap, and he can feel as your heat swallows him, wrapping snuggly around his cock. He nearly groans from pleasure.

He can scent your arousal, feel how slick you are. How easy it will be to slide in, bury himself inside of you.

“No. You always do this.” You say, pushing out of his lenient grip, quickly stumbling backward as you shove your dress down to your ankles.

What?

He blinks away the haze that you’d manage to cast him under. Witch.

Your cheeks are still flushed, but awareness is sparking in your eyes as you take him in. Damn you.

He begins to prowl forward, shifting his arms to paws, his features sharpening further as he rises into a quadrupedal form.

You root yourself to the ground as he stalks forward, your hands fisting in your cold dress. Before he can start anything however, you speak first. “I want you to listen to me,” you manage, shakily. You have to do better. If he senses uncertainty, he’ll pounce.

Azriel snarls, snout nosing roughly at the mouthful of your belly, running up between your breasts.

“You’re capable of reason, just like I am. So act like it.”

He shifts in the blink of an eye, startling you, but you refuse to yield any ground, even as his shadow spills onto you. He’s trying to intimidate you, you realise. You’d seen animals do it countless times: making themselves appear larger to scare off— Predators.

For whatever reason that he’ll inevitably hide from you, he believes you to be a threat of some kind. Something he doesn’t know how to deal with.

“You have rationality, and a conscious, don’t you?” You meet his blacked out gaze, and feel your courage draining. Why are you trying to pick a fight with a dæmon? “I can take whatever I want from you, human.” He growls softly, reaching for your hips.

“No, you can’t.” His fingers pause a little away from your clothed skin.

“What’s stopping me?” He growls, stepping closer so you can feel his presence.

You clench your hands into fists as you look up at him steadily, “maybe you should be asking yourself that, Azriel.”

He stiffens, and you’ve gotten him. You don’t need him to concede, or for it to be a clear win—you know you’ve gotten him.

Finally, you take a step away, and his pupils shrink with the movement. “I’m going to lay in the sun, and dry off. Don’t try anything while I’m resting.”

Maybe you could have done without the niceties, but you seemed to have found somewhat stable footing, and you aren’t going to squander that by suddenly trying to push him around.

It’s progress, you remind yourself as you step out of his reach, walking back toward the bank. It seems like progress is being made.

You settle down a little way from his previous spot in the shade, so he won’t be as on edge. Maybe it would be worth thanking him for saving you—he does have a point about that. You would most definitely be dead had he not taken you from those woods.

Azriel said he wouldn’t bring you to a place where other eyes could see you, so you decide to show him you’ll trust him—this once. Work on that tenuous bond that’s slowly forming.

It’s probably not much by dæmon standards, but you undo some of the buttons of your dress, creating a V that shows the top of your chest, and loosening your sleeves to reveal your forearms a little more.

You hear him prowling by, moving to settle beneath the dappled shade.

You wonder if he made the noise for your sake.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020

#Azriel #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel smut #shadowsinger #teeth and talons #demon!azriel

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