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#flame shot
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Rainy Season
Azriel x Reader
An angsty little one shot. Azriel’s mate is tired of being at the bottom of his list of priorities.
Update: Due to popular demand, this is being made into a series!
Part 2
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The air’s getting heavy and we both know why
There was a time when an evening like this brought solace to my weary soul.
Azriel’s hand wrapped around my waist, caressing my stomach, pressing soft kisses to the juncture of my neck and shoulder. His hair tickling against my sensitive skin as we hid under blankets absorbing the incessant melody of drip, drop, drip, drop and the echoing pitter patter of rain drops hitting the roof. His warmth seeping right through to the coldest depths of my soul.
I’d turn around, pressing my bare breasts against his muscled chest. Our breath hitching as his sunburst eyes of brown, amber, and gold bore into mine, his soft lips whispering promises of forever.
Say that this storm is just passing through
But Azriel wasn’t here. He hadn’t been for 6 days, 23 hours, and 50 minutes now. It would have been laughable, comparing the past to now, if it weren’t so damned sad. In the beginning there’d been long, doting love notes with risqué quips regarding his intentions upon coming home, little gifts that he couldn’t resist bringing back from his travels, and the stolen hours where he’d sneak in a visit during the intermittent downtime on his missions. As a realist, I knew that it was not sustainable long-term but relished in it as the gift it was. Newly formed, passionate love that exceeded anything I had ever imagined upon finding my cauldron-blessed mate.
As the years went on I understood when the love notes became briefs and the thoughtful gifts became pecks on the cheek as he hurried through the door to exchange his leathers for clean ones, wipe down his weapons, and rest before his next mission. But time went on, as is inevitable, and distant were the memories of stolen moments away from missions, the desperate caress of his hands roaming my body as if he couldn’t quite believe I was fully corporeal before him - needing to touch me to reassure him that this was real. Now the touches were detached, perfunctory, another task on his never-ending to-do list.
Drop after drop we’re destroying this house and eachother.
The boiling point had been simmering for a while, left on the fire with reassurances of “Things are just busy right now”, “It’ll slow down soon”, “I would stay if I could, love. You know I would. I have no choice.”
But we both knew all too well that there was always a choice. There were times when Rhys let it slip that Azriel had volunteered for missions that his other spies were perfectly suited for, times when all I wanted in the world was to be curled up and listening to the rain with my mate.
Missions became tasks with the Valkyries, “chaperoning” Cassian and Nesta, and emotionally supporting the lovely doe-eyed fawn - Elain - who was the delicate cherry blossom of spring opposite of my wild summertime storm.
It wasn’t her fault. The trauma inflicted upon her, the loss of autonomy that came with being thrown into the cauldron and having her mortality stripped away without her say. The powers she never asked for overwhelming her senses. Hell, maybe it wasn’t Azriel’s fault for responding to the traumas of his past and the need to overcompensate for every ounce of blood he’s drawn by saving anything and everything that needed rescuing.
The problem lay with the fact that where Elain is a “seer”, my ability to “sense” when things are amiss was strong and Azriel’s intentions with her were becoming blurred. Feelings of lust had become more frequent down the bond along with flutters of joy and adoration. When it began I thought maybe things would look up in our relationship - he was missing me, fisting his cock to fantasies of taking me over and over when he returned home - but he only became more distant. He’d return more often than not smelling of jasmine and honey. The strength of the scent coating him correlating with the increase in enamored feelings slipping through the bond.
Six days ago when I’d asked him to skip out on training with Cassian and Nesta and whatever it was he and Elain would do - that was when the thunder clapped and the sky opened. “I can’t just stay home and cater to you all the time. I have duties to this court. Why can’t you find a hobby to occupy your time? Nesta reads and trains with the Valkyries, Feyre paints, Elain gardens and she evens bakes! Why can’t you be more like-“
He caught himself too late, immediately reaching out to place a gentle hand on my shoulder and apologize but it was too late for that.
Please, make it stop
It wasn’t that I wasn’t a forgiving or understanding person. i appreciated his dedication to his court and family and those in need but…
“Why can’t I be more like what? You can stop mid-sentence but you already said it all.” I looked down, shaking my head as silver lined my eyes. Gods, I hate that I’m an angry crier. “You want to know why I can’t be more like Elain in your eyes, Azriel? Because I exist in your fucking blind spot! I have been helping Feyre AT the studio, volunteering at a food pantry in Velaris, and teaching self-defense classes to women and children at the park but you wouldn’t know because you never ask me what I’ve been up to while you’re gone.”
He started to speak but I wasn’t finished. “The reason I cannot be more like Elain, or Feyre, or Nesta is because I’m none of them. I am ME. And you know what? I like me. I don’t want to be anybody else.” Trying and failing miserably to hold my head high I pathetically fell to my knees, shuddering as tears of rage flowed freely.
Warmth enveloped me as Azriel knelt down to soothe my quaking form. I let him if only because I didn’t have the composure to tell him otherwise as he began pressing kisses to my forehead. “I’m so sorry. I have been a terrible mate. I love all that you are- I- I’ll stop with Elain. She’s doing much better and Nuala and Cerridwen can keep an eye on her, so can Rhys and Cassian, and her sisters. It will be okay.”
That consolation attempt only drove the blade of bitterness deeper into my heart. Elain had so many in her corner and who did I have anymore? My chronically absent mate? The family I left behind to move to Velaris with Azriel? There was nobody close by.
“I think you should leave.” I sobbed out.
Azriel ignored the shaky command, continuing to hold me. Fuck - is this what it took for him to notice me? Breaking my heart so he could stitch it back up again?
“Azriel.” I stated firmly.
He met my eyes.
“You should leave.”
His look grew puzzled. “I thought you wanted me to stay - to spend time together? Please, Y/N. Let me make this better.”
“I need space. Give me one week.”
“But-“
“One. Week.”
Azriel’s shoulders slumped, head hanging low for several minutes before realizing that my decision was firm.
“I love you.” He said before heading out the door.
——————
Like clockwork as 7 days, 0 hours, and 1 minute were up, the front door to our home opened and Azriel’s footsteps padded in behind me, my gaze remaining fixated on the rain falling outside the window. A lump formed in my throat as I avoided turning to meet his gaze.
So dance one more dance and tell one more lie.
Azriel stepped around me, wordlessly extending a hand, patiently waiting as I avoided his gaze a moment longer before taking it. His shadows began humming faintly, increasing their melody and reaching a crescendo as Azriel began dancing with me through the room.
Say that you love me even if it’s not true
I let myself melt into the warmth of his chest. The thick air remained heavy upon my soul but I could have this. I could let myself enjoy this moment.
We wordlessly danced through the room in the soft glow of the fae lights.
We made our way through the hall into our shared bed that had become so neglected.
“I love you, Y/N.” he murmured as he laid me down, stripped bare underneath him.
“I love you too, Azriel.”
——————
Wish I could just say it and words were enough to keep you from being the one giving up.
The middle of the night left me restless as he lay soundly asleep beside me. My senses tugged me toward his bag that he’d discarded at the entryway. I brought out his dirty clothes from the week only to be greeted with the fresh scent of jasmine and honey.
Like the sky letting go for no reason
I packed my essentials and voyaged out into the pouring rain. Its patter on my skin washing away the salty tears streaming down my face. Following my senses to where the love was true back to my Summer Court home, my family. As free as a summer storm.
It's just the rainy season.
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A/n - I know there are plenty of Azriel x Reader and Elain fics out there. It was rainy and dreary here yesterday and this song was in my head for the first time in like 10 years so…. I wrote this.
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jarofstyles · 1 year
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i love bffry i wonder how he'd react if she ever called him daddy or they did something like dom/kinky anyways i love how soft and careful he is w her 💕
Oh he would eat that shit UPPPP my friend. He is very careful w her, a simp, so to speak- but he is also very into experimentation. Here is a little example 🤓
Check out our Patreon!
—-
The repetitive slap of skin was one of Harry’s favorite soundtracks to his evenings. He swore he would never be able to properly sit on his couch, take a shower, and eat in his kitchen without thinking about the filth that had taken place at the surfaces.
Sweat beaded on his brow as he watched her ass ripple under the force of his thrusts, her fingers gripping the marble countertop with a tight hand as he moved inside inside of her slick walls. The broken moans fueled his ego and his thrusts, his hand moving from her waist to come down for a spank right across the surface.
A startled hiccup turned into a whimper, her cheek resting on the cool counter as heat bloomed across the skin. She rarely told him that he was the best she ever had, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. She felt safe, secure, hot, and so fucking desired it was ridiculous.
“Fuck, that’s so good Daddy.” She whimpered out, not even realizing what had passed her lips. Harry had jokingly referred to himself as the title many a time with her reaction being an eye roll and slight heat in her belly, not wanting to give into the want… but she couldn’t help it. It had slipped.
Harry’s thrusts shuttered, a deep groan leaving his throat as he reached for her neck, pulling her up. His lips smeared across hers, though the angle was a bit difficult, his thrusts slowing to a deep grind that had her keening against his mouth. Nice and deep, his breathing fanned across her lips. “Fuckin’ finally.” He grit. “Knew you loved it. Pretty girl held out on me for so long… but it’s exactly what you wanted.”
Y/N could be a brat, but that’s part of what he loved about her.
His thrusts increased in speed, Y/N not caring about the strokes of his ego anymore. All she cared about was the feeling of his cock stroking her inside. She was wet, wetter than she had been at his approval and rough grab of her. The spanking, all of it. She couldn’t get enough.
“Again.” He panted against her mouth, feeling her cunt slicker up even more than before. His hand tightened just a bit on her throat.
“Daddy- fuck, keep doing that. Love your cock so much.” She moaned, the feeling of him filling her to the brim each and every thrust a threat to sending her over the edge. “Just like that. Please don’t stop. Just keep- keep giving it to me.”
“I’m not, baby. Daddy’s gonna take good fucking care of his girl.”
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clairebear08 · 10 months
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Anything for You (Azriel x Reader)
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Summary// While on your mission at Hybern, you are surprised by unexpected visitors before everything goes wrong
Note: This was an anon request. And to that anon, I literally love this idea, so thank you!
Request: Hi, I really adore your writing ♥ If your requests are open, can you please write Az x reader oneshot. I just finished re-reading ACOMAF and had an idea. Do you remember that Az gets shot by a poisoned arrow in the end of the book? What if Y/N, who is his best friend (and secretely in love with him) jumps in front of him and the arrow hits her instead?
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The cold walls were the only things surrounding you. You shuddered, hearing the distant screams filtering down the hall. You didn’t have too much longer here until you could leave. Reluctantly so, you’d been sent here to assist the High Lord in gaining intel. You knew it hurt your family to put you in this position, but it needed to be you. You would be the only person that Hybern would be unable to recognize. You could still see the haunted look on the Shadowsingers face when the decision had been finalized.
You’d known Azriel for years, becoming close friends quickly. His past proving to be darker than your own. You’d both quickly realized that, finding a confidant in one another. The two of you had leaned on each other, finally talking without judgement or worry, finally finding some semblance of peace. Friends had been enough for awhile, but it didn’t take long for you to realize that you cared for the Shadowsinger on a deeper level. The words had almost bubbled up on so many occasions, words you didn’t dare speak. Words you shut out as soon as they came: I love you.
You were about to round the corner when an arm shot out of nowhere, catching you around the waist. Your mouth opened, readying to release a scream that would alert someone. A large hand wrapped around, covering your mouth and preventing any noise from escaping. You desperately tried to reach for the blade strapped to your thigh, finding it missing from its holster. Your heart dropped as you were pulled back into a dark room. In a last attempt you kicked you leg back, hearing the groan as you foot struck the male that held you in the crotch. His grip loosened just enough for you twist, sending your elbow flying for his face. He let go of you, stepping back as you quickly rose to your feet.
“Y/n, what the fuck!”
Your face fell, recognizing that voice. The same voice that you’d been missing for the few weeks you’d been away. Azriel now stood in the dark, one hand over his groin, and the other trying to wipe up the blood trailing from his nose.
“Az! Oh my gods, I’m so sorry!” You quickly rushed towards him, seeing a chair and nudging him towards it. He sat down, moving the hand on his nose down to join the other one. You tilted his head up, noticing the cut one of your rings had made along his cheek. You moved, beginning to search the room for anything that might help.
“What are you doing here?”
You turned back to face him, healing kit in hand.
“We came to get you out.”
You stopped, standing in between his knees, “We?”
He nodded, tilting his head to give you better access to the cut, “Yes. Rhys, Cass, Feyre, and Nesta. We received word that something was about to go down and that it would be wise to pull you out.”
Your heart sank while you cleaned the cut you’d made. The thought of any of them being within these walls made you sick. You said nothing, not wanting him to hear the panic that would be evident in your voice if you spoke. You watched as the wound began closing on its own, moving to clean the blood that had stopped spilling from his nose.
You slowed your movements, looking down at the male before you. You knew he hadn’t, but the few weeks away made it seem as though he changed. He met your eyes, seeming to scan your face. You felt his fingers brush against the back of your knees. You hoped the darkness of the room kept your blushing hidden. You watched the way his eyes darted to your lips, hands wrapping around your legs, keeping you between his own. Those same words threatened to bubble up again. No.
You placed the bloodied rag down, removing his hands from you before backing up and making yourself busy. You tried not to think about the slight hurt that crossed his features.
“So, what’s the plan now?”
He cleared his throat, “Well, we wait for Rhys to confirm that we are ready to go. He should’ve answered me by now, but he might ju-”
You spun around as he stood up suddenly, “Az?”
He met your eyes, the horror evident on his face, “They have them.”
The kit in your hands clanged to the ground, “What?”
“Throne room.”
You felt sick, “We need to go get them.”
He rushed towards you, passing your knife back to you, the same one that had been missing earlier, “No. Not until I get you out safely.”
You snatched the blade back, “No chance in hell. I leave when they leave.”
He glared down at you, trying to get you to back down from this. You met his glare with one of your own. It was your fault they were there, and it would continue to be your fault if anyone got hurt.
————————————
You stood with Azriel, hidden behind the door to the throne room. You could her the King of Hyberns booming voice, unable to distinguish what was being said. Nesta and Feyre were the only ones in the room. You threw Az a look, wondering where the other males were. He shook his head, moving his gaze back to the girls. Cassian and Rhys must not have been caught, then. A part of you felt only relief at that, knowing that they would soon be here, ready to get their mates back. There was a chance then, that you would all make it out of this. You remained still as death, waiting for Azriel to signal that you should move.
He moved closer then, body brushing up against your own. On instinct, you backed away, blood freezing as the door creaked behind you. He looked down at you, both of you waiting for the sounds of footsteps sure to be nearing the door. You watched his body deflate as nothing happened, the King continuing to talk with the females in the room.
Relief was just beginning to wash over you when you saw it. Out of the corner of your eye, you could make out the head of an arrow. Time seemed to slow as your thoughts quickened. The only weapons Hybern used were either that of Ash or coated in Faebane. Regardless, both would easily take down the male that stood beside you, and you’d be found.
You made a decision in those few seconds, the easiest decision you’d ever made. You loved this male and would do anything for him. You didn’t give it a second thought as you moved your body in front of his own. Looking into his eyes as the arrow struck your back, sending you to your knees. The last thing you saw was Azriel, horror and fury coating his handsome face.
Then the world went dark.
————————————
You woke with a start, memories flooding back to you in waves. A searing pain ran along your spine as you sat up. Your head whipped around, not recognizing the room you were in. You looked to your side, seeing a large mass seated in the chair beside you. Azriel’s head was limp, chest rising and falling with sleep. You took a closer look around the room, scenting the night-chilled mist and cedar. His room. You were in Azriels room which meant that you’d all made it out. At least you hoped. You turned your gaze back to the male beside you.
You took in his bare chest and the pajama pants that were resting dangerously low on his waist, allowing you to see the v-shaped lines even with him sitting. Your cheeks heated, not missing the small trail of hair that most definitely went farther down. You couldn’t help it, your brain instantly running rampant, wanting nothing more than to see just how far down it went.
His form shifted, body twisting as his eyes slowly cracked open. He met your stare, sitting up straighter.
You cursed your bodies reaction to his husky voice, “You’re awake.”
You quirked a small smile, clearing your throat, “What happened?”
He swallowed, eyes darting to your back, “After you moved in front of me, Cass and Rhys came into the room, grabbing Nesta and Feyre before winnowing out. While everyone’s attention was split I grabbed you and did the same.”
You nodded as he continued, “Gods, y/n. After they shot you I…I wanted nothing more than to go back in there and rip them to shreds. Every last one.”
Your eyes darted down, not wanting him to see how his words affected you. The mattress dipped in front of you as Azriel moved to sit on the bed. His hand reached out, tilting your head up to look at him.
“Y/n…there’s something I need to tell you.” You searched his eyes, heartbeat speeding up as you waited for him to continue. He inhaled a shaky breath, “Seeing you take an arrow for me made me realize something. I’ve know for a long time that how I felt about you was much more than just a friend.”
Tears welled in your eyes, “Az…”
His stare hardened, “I love you, y/n. I love you more than anything, and I have for a long time. It shouldn’t have taken until now for you to hear those words, but I’ll make sure to tell you everyday from now on. Make you sick of them, if you’ll let me.”
A small laugh bubbled out of your throat, finally letting the words you’d been holding back free, “I love you, Azriel. And I could never, not in a million years, get sick of hearing you tell me the same.”
He smiled broadly, hand moving to the back of your head as he brought his lips to yours. Your heart burst as you kissed him, finally having his lips against your own. He didn’t hesitate as he deepened the kiss, tongue diving into your mouth and beginning to war with your own. You moaned into him, fingers running over his body before tangling in his hair. You made to move, needing more of this, of him, when a searing pain ran along your back.
Azriel immediately reared back, searching your eyes before pushing you back down. You pouted, earning a chuckle from him.
“Y/n, believe me, I want to keep going. But your going to need to be fully healed for what I have in store.”
You core heated at is words, frown deepening as you laid back down. You patted the bed beside you, knowing that you both needed to be close. He happily obliged, crawling in next to you and carefully draping a hand across your waist, gently pulling you closer. You snuggled into him, loving the way he held you.
“Say it again, Az.”
You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, “I love you, y/n.”
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cirrus-grey · 8 months
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Good Omens S2 good ending: a random pedestrian trips and breaks their leg right as the Metatron is leading Aziraphale out of the bookshop for their little talk. Aziraphale immediately switches into Good Citizen mode and is like "I'm so sorry, I'll just be a moment, you know I was heaven's representative on earth for 6000 years and I still feel it's my duty to do good wherever I see the chance-"
Between healing the leg with a miracle, helping the person into the coffeeshop to recover, calling a friend to come pick them up, ordering them a restorative warm beverage... he's gone a while. The Metatron gets impatient and is finally like "fuck this. Hey Muriel, I need an archangel, you're getting promoted," and they take off for heaven long before Aziraphale's done being a goodie-two-shoes.
He wanders back into the bookshop, confused, and gets hit with the full force of Crowley’s "I want to spend eternity with you let's run away together," speech. He counters with "I want to spend eternity with you too but can't we do that here on earth?" and then no one sees them for a week because they're too busy making out on every piece of furniture in the shop.
(Meanwhile, Muriel is so worried about Doing The Job Properly that they inadvertently drown heaven in an avalanche of red tape and regulations. They never manage to start the second coming because no one can find form B7, which apparently needs to be signed off on before a resurrection can be performed on any savior, prophet, or Son of God.)
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meowzfordayz · 3 months
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emphasis-on-helpless
Author’s Note: welp, stay tuned for pt 3 aka the conclusion of this lil series. 🤭
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emphasis-on-helpless
Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader
Word Count: ~900
CW: explicit language
they’re-both-so-helpless, helplessly-in-love
~faqs~
“WHY DID YOU ALLOW ME TO SEND THAT?!”
Tengen’s cackling is interrupted by a swift smack to his bicep, Kyojuro’s expression distraught as he listens to his friend’s gleeful laughter.
“You like them, don’t you?” Tengen drawls, patting Kyojuro’s back with an enthusiastic thud, “So it’s about time you tell them.”
“I tried to ask them on a date,” Kyojuro admits, the tips of his ears matching the tips of his hair as he furiously blushes, “But all they did was Snap me a thumbs up!!!!!”
Eyes rolling, Tengen crosses his arms, eyebrow raised pointedly, “What exactly transpired?”
“I’ll bring you next time and then It’s a date! and then a. Thumbs. Up.” Tengen is once again cackling. “We even bought each other’s favorite flavors and they dabbed my nose with ice cream!” Tengen is shuddering now. “But when it was time to part, they simply smiled and waved and then walked away so quickly I was worried I had started to smell bad!”
“What deodorant were you wearing?” Tengen snickers.
“The one you recommended!”
Grinning proudly, Tengen claps his hands together, oozing confidence as he stares unwaveringly at Kyojuro.
Groaning, Kyojuro checks his phone, dismay flooding his chest at your lack of a prompt reply. At least they are not ignoring me he assures himself, mouth twitching as Tengen proceeds to poke his shoulder. Surely they are not ignoring me?! Poke. Perhaps the free slice of banana bread was a tad too much? reminiscing on your most recent stop by his cafe, heart clenching at the memory of your sweaty fingers brushing against his when he handed you your iced latte. Poke. Poke. I could have sworn they looked my way through the window before leaving… Poke. Poke. Poke. Maybe it was just the sunlight.
“Done daydreaming, lover boy?” Tengen winks playfully, glancing at Kyojuro’s phone with a sympathetic, “No response?”
Kyojuro’s moody grunt says enough, regret weighing his limbs at the thought of what he’d sent you.
“Are you and [y/n] together?” Tengen muses, noodles slipping distractedly off his chopsticks, “You don’t use social media, and yet, you’re always snapping them.” Kyojuro pauses, spoonful of broth freezing as his brow furrows. “Y’know,” Tengen gestures with his chopsticks, “Together.” “I know,” Kyojuro chuckles, a gentle puff of air prolonging the anticipation, “To be frank… no.” “NO?!” Tengen exclaims, chopsticks slamming onto the table, nearby patrons glancing curiously in his direction, “Dude. What do you mean no?!?!?!” Faintly alarmed, Kyojuro takes a sip of his soup, the steaming liquid calming his nerves as he murmurs Umai! “Kyojuro,” Tengen emphasizes, “They clearly like you, and you clearly like them, so why are you not together?!” “Nothing is clear,” Kyojuro patiently corrects him, “Much like this hazy broth, I cannot discern whether or not they like me.” “Okaaay,” Tengen scoffs, “But you like the broth!” “But they are a real person with real feelings.” “Unlike the broth,” Tengen deadpans. “Precisely,” Kyojuro smiles easily, slurping his broth with a resigned sigh, “Unlike the broth, I cannot impose my will upon them, nor would I ever wish to.” “But,” Tengen smirks, “You wish to eat the broth.” “Uh…” Kyojuro hesitates, cheeks warming, “... yes?” “SO EAT THE DAMN BROTH!!!!!” “Tengen, that is not how consent works.”
With a bored yawn, Tengen picks up Kyojuro’s phone, unlocking it to play Clash of Clans—Kyojuros’ quite dedicated to his base—only to snort amusedly at his home screen.
“Man, I hope they open your Snap soon.”
Eyes widening in realization, Kyojuro makes a frantic grab for his phone, huffing as Tengen immediately holds it above his head, cursing how—despite his own tall stature—much taller Tengen is than him.
“You have a photo like this with them, and you can’t figure out their feelings for you? And I used to consider myself clueless!”
“You have three girlfriends,” Kyojuro grumbles, “So cease your fake modesty.”
“They’re practically hugging you! If I was a random person and I saw your home screen, I’d assume you were in love!” Tengen teases.
“Well I am,” Kyojuro admits, voice softening as he gazes at his phone in Tengen’s grip, “But I… I could not bring myself to presume that they are too.”
I could not bear the heartbreak that would ensue, should my presumption prove untrue.
With an exasperated Tsk, Tengen returns Kyojuro’s phone, perceiving his unuttered fear with sincere solidarity.
“Do you think they are preoccupied?”
“Kyojuro, it’s been five minutes. Suma takes longer than that to answer me, and she’s clingy as hell.”
“They do not feel the same.”
“Kyojuro, they could be shitting and forgot to take their phone with them. Or hanging out with friends and not checking it. Or-”
“-injured in a ditch?!”
“NO,” Tengen’s lips purse, patience dwindling as Kyojuro’s face falls, “For fuck’s sake! How about you call them?”
“Absolutely not,” Kyojuro interjects, “I already sent them the stupidest Snap confessing my stupid, stupid feelings for them! I ALREADY CONFESSED MY FEELINGS. Using Snapchat! I am the opposite of romantic.”
“Your feelings aren’t stupid, and romance is dead anyway,” Tengen shrugs.
“You bought your girlfriends personalized bouquets last month,” Kyojuro retorts.
“If snapping them your feelings is this difficult, then I struggle to believe you could’ve told them in person.”
“I would never.”
Inhaling deeply, Tengen mutters darkly, “Rengoku Kyojuro, I am going to fucking-”
“-they snapped me!”
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rowaelinsdaughter · 5 months
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would you write some fluff about flying with Xaden??🫶
author note: thank u so much for requesting this anon!!! this is my first time writing him, so i hope you like it
𝖀𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 (𝖃𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗)
WARNING: FLUFF, JUST FLUFF, AND A SURPRISE
The rain beat on the windows incessantly, the moon blocked by the clouds and your boyfriend's arms around your waist.
With most of the students and teachers asleep, it hadn't been difficult to go to his room after weeks without having time for both of you. But you noticed that something was missing. No matter how comfortable you were, you were restless and Xaden noticed that.
“There's something wrong with you, right?”
“Mmm, no…”
“Mmm, liar. I know you angel and I know when you are restless or want something. "You don't stop moving your fingers and looking at me with puppy eyes."
You hide your hands in the sheets and turn so he can't see you. You hear his deep laugh behind you and his arms pull you closer to his toned body. His hands slip under your shirt (one of the many you had stolen from him) and he caresses your abdomen slowly.
You sigh and tell him what you've been longing for for a while.
“I want to fly” You turn in his arms to see his face.
Xaden raises his eyebrows. “Now?”
“Yes, now. You know it's my favorite weather and I've thought about what it would be like to fly in the rain, plus it doesn't rain that much either.” You hug him by the shoulders and caress the back of his neck. “Come on, Xaden, do it for me.”
His eyes connect with yours, giving you one of his smiles that you loved so much, revealing a dimple. He kisses you quickly. “I must love you too much”
"And you do it"
"Of course"
____________________________________________________
Sgaeyl and Aisha were waiting for you, having heard your conversation. You notice a smile on your white frame, you roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him.
Busybody
It's not my fault
Yeah, yeah…
You sit in the saddle, careful not to slip in the light rain, and look at Xaden with a euphoric smile.
"Prepared?"
“I was born prepared, angel.”
And so, your dragons begin to fly away from Riders Quadrant. 
Once away from the quadrant, you close your eyes letting the rain run over your features and a scream of pure happiness and euphoria leaves your lips, followed by a laugh.
You lie on Aisha's back and notice how the rain begins to calm down until it stops falling. 
You open your eyes and look to your right, finding a smiling Xaden, all to see you happy. You smile back followed by an I love you.
You caress your dragon and then say to it: Do you want to see the moon, Aisha?
Of course, Y/n.
Aisha starts flying towards the clouds and Xaden follows you blindly, like the first day you met. And then you see it in all its splendor. That night the moon was full and illuminated the world with its silvery glow. Xaden comes close enough to touch you and takes you under the shoulders and sits you down in front of him.
A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his lips on your ear.
"I love you, you know?. From the first day we met. And I fell more in love when you knocked me down the day we trained” His hands caress your waist “At that moment I thought you were the one, that you were for me and you are, angel. You are mine and I am yours.”
You didn't know when you had started crying, until you noticed the tears on your neck.
“So, I want to ask you something that I have been wanting to tell you for a long time, but I couldn't find the right moment, and today, when I saw you this happy, I thought it was the perfect moment.” With a movement he turns you to face you and being able to look into your eyes “Y/n, my sweet angel, will you marry me?”
You start to cry harder, you grab Xaden's cheeks and bring him closer to your lips, noticing how his hands tighten on your waist. “Of course you do, Xaden” And with those last words, you kiss him.
You had thought that night was magical, but Xaden had made it the best night of your life.
𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 ©𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒅𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓. 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚 / 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆.
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aboggoblin · 15 days
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Just a Favor
✦ A Gwynriel first kiss one-shot (turned into multiple parts after requests for more)
✦ Inspired by a true story 🫣 when I started dating my wife in high school I had never been kissed before and she kept very politely asking if she could kiss me and I kept getting too nervous and saying no. That went on for like two months and then I finally told her to kiss me without asking or I'd keep saying no lol and she did. The end
✦ Word Count: 1.7k
✦ AO3 Link / Next Chapter
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"I have a favor to ask you," Gwyn's voice pulled Azriel from his thoughts.
She sat across from him at the kitchen table, half-eaten plates of lunch in front of them. The Valkyries had stayed for lunch after training, Gwyn lingering after Cassian had left to fly Emerie home. Nesta had excused herself to find a book for Gwyn, leaving the pair alone.
Azriel had not thought anything of this sequence of events, but now that he was looking at the Gwyn, head tilted to the side with an inquisitive gleam in her eye, he was finding it all suspicious.
"It's kind of an unconventional thing, so prepare yourself." Gwyn continued. He took note of her fingers fiddling with a buckle on her leathers.
"Okay," Azriel said slowly, resisting the urge to furrow his brows. Or maybe run away.
"Are you prepared?"
"Yes, I won't react."
"I want to be kissed."
True to his word, Azriel's face remained unchanged. Though his stomach had done a flip and his heartbeat thundered.
"Okay, you can react a little," Gwyn cried, indignant and incredulous.
"Are you asking me to kiss you?" Azriel surprised himself with his own calm tone.
"Either that, or help me find someone. Because I trust you to help me find someone who isn't an asshole." She had shrunk into herself a little, like her confidence had waned. Her gaze drifted down to her plate.
"Why me, though?" The corners of his mouth quirked up just a touch.
"Nesta hates everyone, Emerie only knows Illyrians and they hate Valkyries, Cassian is Cassian, and I'm not asking my High Lord or Lady to find someone to kiss me."
They were all fair arguments. He didn't bother asking why she wanted to be kissed so desperately. All of her actions pointed toward wanting to move on. He'd overheard the Valkyries several times encouraging Gwyn toward what they called 'the last step' - moving out of the library.
"I'll do it," Az said, cursing his voice for cracking. How could she unnerve him so?
She was just a woman. Except that a singular word could not fully capture what Gwyn was. Priestess, Valkyrie, Carynthian, she was something incredible. The most brightly colored thing in his life. Copper hair, turquoise eyes, white ribbons, auburn freckles.
Gwyn cheered and gave him a triumphant, toothy grin. He could not help smiling in return.
"What do you want me to do?" He asked, unsure how to proceed.
"I just want you to kiss me like you would anyone you really liked," Gwyn was blushing, now. Eyes a little wild, like she hadn't expected to get this far.
"That doesn't really tell me what you want," Azriel protested.
He picked at a leftover sliver of sandwich to give his hands something to do. His shadows buzzed with energy, darting to far corners of the room and reporting back about the dust that lived there.
"Well...what was your first kiss like?" Gwyn asked. She smiled at one shadow that approached her outstretched hand like a shy kitten.
"Probably not what you'd want," Azriel flashed a sheepish grin, still embarrassed by the centuries-old memory, "It was pretty bad. This will be your first kiss?"
"Yes," Gwyn kept her gaze on the tendril of shadow weaving through her fingers. "I think maybe I don't want you to ask me first,"
"I always ask before I kiss someone, no matter how I feel about them."
"Well, the problem is that if you ask, I might chicken out and say no," She sighed, "So I may need you to just do it."
"Ah," Azriel grinned, "I see. You want me to make it a moment."
Before she could answer, he stood and crossed to her in a few strides, turning her chair to face him and bracing one hand on the back of it. Gwyn looked up at him, eyes wide, lips parted. He leaned in close, nose a few inches from hers. Somehow, her nervousness had cancelled his out and returned his confidence. At the very least, he knew he was capable of making her first kiss better than his had been.
"I have no qualms with a surprise, if that's what you want." He said, deep voice rumbling in his chest.
"Yes," Gwyn whispered, heart hammering in anticipation.
This close, she could count every freckle scattered over his bronze skin. There was a beauty mark she had never seen before right on the edge of his full bottom lip, and glimmers of gold in his amber eyes. She hoped desperately that he could not hear the catch of her breath.
Azriel stayed still for a moment, gaze fixed on hers, letting her wonder if this was the moment. A part of her hoped that it wasn't, just so she could feel this again, have another chance to memorize his features. To breathe his piney scent, feel his shadows caress her skin.
Perhaps she should have just asked him to help her find a stranger.
Azriel straightened, flashed an insufferable smirk, and walked out of the room. Gwyn heard his footsteps echo down the hall, leaving her alone in the silent kitchen. She felt as though a summer storm had just rolled through her world, dark and alluring and thrilling all at once.
Nesta, with her brilliant intuition, returned a moment later, squealing when she took in Gwyn's red cheeks.
***
A few nights later, after a family dinner at the River House, a little group set out to the far corner of the estate. There, a little branch of the Sidra curved through the meadow before pouring back into the sea. A small stone bridge crossed over it, leading to an ivy covered gazebo. Azriel, Cassian, Nesta, and Mor all set out to get a moment of fresh air and a glimpse of the moonlight dancing on the water.
Gwyn followed, giggling with the group at Mor's tipsy stumbling and Cassian's booming voice declaring that he could definitely skip a rock father than the rest of them. This, of course, illicited a challenge and they all began a search for perfect rocks. Gwyn was particularly skilled at skipping stones and giddy at the idea of surprising the group with her talent and wiping the smirk from Cassian's face.
But just as she stepped over the little stone bridge, a hand grasped her arm and whirled her around. She found herself in Azriel's arms, among the swaying grass and delicate flowers. They stood halfway down the bank of the stream, Azriel's boots braced against the slope, holding them upright. The mossy stone bridge hid them from sight, only the tops of their heads visible if the rest of the group bothered to look.
It took Gwyn a moment to register what had happened, to calm her heart and adjust to the feeling of the shadowsinger's arms wrapped around her waist. He smiled down at her, moonlight gleaming in his hazel eyes. This was the moment.
Azriel softly placed his hands on her face and pulled her in a little closer. He was silent, giving her long moments to stop him if she wished. But she tucked herself into him, hands resting on his chest, fingertips just brushing the skin above his collar. She blushed deep red, looking up at him through lowered lashes, though the glimmer in her eye was eager.
Azriel could not help but notice how perfectly she fit in his hold, like her face and his hands had once been a single block of marble, the curve between them cut with a single motion. Something about it so familiar, so deeply rooted it felt almost ancient. Sacred.
And Gwyn could not help the feeling that bloomed in her chest when he brought his lips to hers. Soft, sweet, reverant. His touch was warm, every place where they connected sent sparks through her body.
She knew, deep down, was no fleeting feeling. This was the feeling of something beginning. Perhaps this was a spectacularly stupid idea, after all, as she was certain that no other kiss would ever feel this way.
Azriel pulled away, thumb brushing over her cheek. The moment he met her eyes, he felt it. It was nothing like he thought it would be. Neither pain nor pleasure, something so unique there was only one thing that it could be. Gwyn glowed before him, her aura golden. So bright, the star his whole being now orbited.
He knew he looked like a fool. Gasping, chest heaving like her kiss had hurt him. And the concern on her face stung, because it meant she had not felt it, too.
"Azriel?" She whispered, her rose-tinted stupor fading. Azriel let go of her, hands dropping stiffly to his sides. His skin burned, already craving more of her touch.
"How do you feel?" He croaked, though he knew the answer. She did not feel as he did, no matter how much she had liked it.
"Are you okay?" She asked, instead of answering. Her hands still rested against his chest, and now her fingers curled around his shirt collar, holding tight. He looked like he was beginning to panic.
Azriel shook his head, wings spreading out with a snap. It was too much. The sorrow, the longing, the roaring joy. Subtle hints of her own emotions drifting down the newly forged bond.
Mind swirling, he placed a hand on his chest and stepped back. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Just staring at the dazzling girl before him, who had been so shy about being kissed. Surely she would not be happy about such an intense bond, not be ready. And she had asked him for a kiss because she cared so little for him. She had hoped for a kiss that would not matter. No, she would not want this.
He could only think of one word and it was likely the only thing he should not say. Instead of saying anything, he shot upwards into the sky, disappearing as a dark smudge in the night. A single streak of blue in the darkness.
Gwyn was left alone, hands hovering where he had been. Confused, concerned, and entirely unaware of the bond singing in Azriel's chest.
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theresalwaysep · 11 months
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Elvis Presley [Flaming Star, 1960]
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vapolis · 5 days
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reading over action scenes is so funny bc like there sure is something happening amidst all that rambling!
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vacant--body · 9 months
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stay with me pt 1
<Azriel Shadowsinger x OFC>
short story of one of our favorite bat boys.
warnings: heavy alcohol consumption, mentions of trauma, light smut, 18+ MDNI!!!!
part two, part three, part four, part five
✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖°
The pulsing music at Rita’s felt like it was mimicking the rapid heartbeat in Ophiela’s chest. Every dip and sway that she was led into by strange males made her feel heady and dizzy. It felt like her feet barely touched the floor as she was spun into arm after arm, song after song. The three bottles of wine that her and Mor consumed before coming didn’t help either.
Like Nesta, dancing made her feel something. Less empty, less of a broken shell. Like the patterns she twirled into on the dance floor could somehow form the broken shards of herself back together.
From her place in the crowd she could spy her friends sitting at the permanently reserved table, playing a game of cards. All were focused on the current hand, throwing chips into the pile and cursing at each other. All except one pair of dark hazel eyes. He was almost invisible, tucked into the corner, his black leathers causing him to blend in even more. But beneath the swirling mass of darkness, Ophelia could see him.
Maybe that was one difference between her and Prythians most notorious spymaster. He was comfortable in the dark where no one could see him. But Ophelia was most comfortable under the blazing lights, where almost anyone could see her. Where she could paint a face was calm and happy, and no one would suspect a thing. They were almost exact opposites, but maybe that’s what attracted her to him.
Strong hands suddenly gripped her waist and she was being pulled against a hard chest, breaking her staring contest with the spymaster. The male laughed in her ear, saying something. But she wasn’t sure what he said, her head was swimming by this point. She danced with him for a bit before excusing herself and pushed her way through the churning bodies, making her way to the table.
Those hazel eyes were on her again, watching her hips sway to the music. Placing her hands on the table and leaning over, she shouted at them so they could hear.
“Does anyone mind taking me home?” Winnowing while drunk was a bad idea. She learned her lesson the hard way when she almost drowned in the Sidra. She didn’t want to end a few inches off from the balcony of the House of Wind and fall to her death. That would be embarrassing.
Feyra opened her mouth to speak but Azriel beat her to it, setting his cards down.
“I fold.” He told the table. “I’m ready to get out of here anyway.” He stood, his wings ruffling at the movement.
As the two made their way to the doors, Ophelia could have sworn she heard Cassian yelling that Az had a full house. There was no way he could have been on a cusp of winning for him to just walk out like that, Az was too competitive. She must have heard him wrong.
They walked out into the muggy summer night. It was scorching this time of year, the night time only a little more tolerable than the day. The light blue dress that Ophelia had on stuck to her in the most uncomfortable of places. It was a pretty dress, a little on the short side, but one that would now have to be thoroughly washed. It reeked of sweat and wine and unfamiliar males.
Azriel and Ophelia walked in silence for a bit, the sounds of distant parties and conversations being drowned out by the rushing water as they approached the bridge to the Sidra. She traced the amazingly carved detail with her fingers on the rails, before stopping and turning to look down at the water.
Azriel inhaled softly as if he were about to speak, but Ophelia cut him off.
“Did I tell you about the time I almost drowned in the Sidra?”
She glanced behind her to the Illyrian, whose stoic features wavered just slightly at her admission. Whatever he was about to say, she had stopped him. If she were being honest with herself, which was rare, she’d wish she had let him speak.
“Mor and I had a few too many glasses of Rhys aged wine,” She continued. “Didn’t think it would hit me that hard. When I tried to winnow home I landed face first into cold water. Sobered me up pretty quick.”
She turned around, gazing up into those damned hazel eyes. She expected to see some sort of amusement in his eyes, but all she found was worry.
“I could have taken you home that day.”
Ophelia shrugged. “Honestly, I think you were on a mission for Rhys. Plus, I wouldn’t want to bother you with my drunkenness.” She lifted her palms up to the sky, a smile twitching at her lips.
“I don’t mind your drunkenness.” That same smile creeping up on the corners of his own thick, lush lips.
Damnit.
Something had changed, shifted, between Ophelia and Azriel. For centuries, she had considered Azriel as a friend, a good friend. But almost three months ago, that had changed. She didn’t know what it was, or didn’t want to admit to herself what it was, but it happened. Az and her had been sparring early in the evening like usual. They were trying to perfect a new technique they thought of, when somehow Ophelia managed to knock Azriel on his ass.
He had stared up at her with such awe and bewilderment she thought he might have cracked his head open on the ground. When she helped him up his hands were clammy and hot, and he quickly excused himself from the session.
Ever since then, Azriel had been, well, nice. Not just the forced politeness she was used to when it came to the spymaster. He had been offering to help her, spending time with her scouting out the Autumn Court, which she knew he hated. It was strange, even Rhys admitted his brother's actions were strange.
Ophelia, snapping out of her thoughts, realized she had been staring far too long at Azriel. Clearing her throat, she looked away. She was glad it was hot out or else she felt like he might have called her out on the blush that was creeping across her cheeks.
“Do you mind?” She asked, lifting her arms out to him. “I’m ready for bed.”
Azriel nodded silently, and picked her up like she weighed less than a feather. She laid her head on his chest and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the feeling of her stomach to drop once he took flight. Hearing the leathery snap of his wings, the ground whooshed out from underneath them. She sucked in a breath as his wings caught the warm breeze, spreading them out behind him.
Velaris was always beautiful, but Ophelia was convinced it looked the most beautiful from above. She watched as the streaming lights grew distant as they flew farther away from the city. It made her heart hurt to watch it go.
They flew silently towards the House of Wind, the only sound of Azriel’s wings occasionally flapping. She looked over his shoulder, the thin membrane of his wings looked so silky. Ophelia knew how prized an Illyrian's wings were to them. They would rather be dead than be without their wings.
Still, they looked so smooth and soft. Tentatively, she reached a hand out and lightly ran her hand across the cool skin. She heard Azriel gasp, and they dipped in the sky.
“Shit!” She squawked, nails digging into his neck. “Sorry! I didn’t think-”
“If you don’t want me to drop you, sweetheart, I wouldn’t do that again.” Azriel grunted. Something had changed in his voice, it sounded gruffer. She was so caught up in what just happened she almost missed it.
He had called her sweetheart.
Azriel landed on the balcony without any more close calls. Though Ophelia supposed she was to blame for that. He set her down gently and she smoothed out her dress, making sure everything was covered.
“I need a drink.” She announced, but mostly for the house to hear.
“You had about three bottles of wine, four shots of vodka, and a beer. You need more?” Azriel said from behind her, humor laced in his tone.
“Well, looks like someone was counting.” She smirked to herself. “But no, I need tea. Care to join?”
Sauntering into the kitchen, she saw the house instantly set out another hot mug and she picked it up, handing it to Azriel. “It’s my secret blend.” She smiled, picking up her own mug. Taking a small sip, she sighed contentedly.
She hopped up on the counter watching as Azriel did the same. “Jasmine, lavender, and chamomile.” He offered. “With a hint of lemon.”
Ophelia rolled her eyes, smirking. “I suppose being a spymaster you have to know the differences between tastes. Wouldn’t want someone to be poisoned, now would you?”
“No, it’s just what you smell like.”
Ophelia’s heart skipped a beat. She stared down at her mug in her now trembling hands. Desperately, she tried to think of a witty come-back. Something to diffuse to tension that was quickly building in the kitchen. She heard the clink of his mug being set down on the counter, and the shuffle of his boots as he approached her.
“Phia,” Azriel whispered. “Look at me.” Inhaling sharply, she did just that. She felt his hands grab hers and set the mug down, his eyes never leaving hers. His eyes were alight with swirling colors, his pupils almost covering his entire iris.
“Az…” Before she could get another word out, his lips were on hers.
Gasping at the electric shock that started at the base of her skull, making its way down her tailbone, she shuddered. Did she shudder because of that or because of Azriel, Azriel was finally kissing her? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer right now.
He broke away from her after a long moment, resting his forehead on hers. He was panting, they were panting. This time when Azriel tried to speak, she was the one to cut him off. Her lips slotted over his, her slender arms wrapping around his neck pulling him closer.
They were a blur of gnashing teeth and tongues, their breathing turning almost frantic. Azriel’s rough hands gripped her hips, pulling her even closer to him. Instinct kicked in and Ophelia grabbed onto his waist with her legs. Nothing but a few scraps of clothing separated them now.
Wait.
Azriel bit down on her bottom lip, a quiet moan rippled from her mouth. He pulled away, but not going very far. He kissed her cheek, then her jaw, then that spot right behind her ear. Ophelia moaned again, louder this time, arching into his touch.
She said she didn’t want this.
Azriel’s chuckled, his breath tickled against her overheating skin. He continued kissing down the length of her throat, and her hands found their way to his thick hair, tugging softly. Ophelia felt triumphant when he let out a moan of his own. Then, she was leaning farther and farther back so he could have easy access to her, gasping and moaning when he bit down just to soothe the sting with his tongue. His mouth was setting ablaze a burning path down her chest that she thought the coolest of waters couldn’t put out.
She wasn’t allowed to want this.
His hand came up to cup her breast through the material of her dress, his thick thumb swiping lazily over the peaked nipple. She was squirming now, her soaked core rutting ever so slightly against the very large bulge in his leathers. She wanted more, needed more. Needed to feel him in every way possible, to feel exactly what the honed muscles could do.
She shouldn’t want this.
Azriel finally pulled away from the assault he was levying against her front and his eyes found hers. “Sweetheart, do you-”
“Well it’s about damn time!” A voice boomed from down the hall.
Ophelia had never seen Azriel move so fast. One moment she was sprawled out on the counter top, the next Azriel had her behind his back, guarding her from being seen by Cass and Nesta, who had just caught them in a very compromising situation. A snarl she had never heard from Azriel ripped from his throat.
“Oh come now, Az! How many times have you walked in on me and Ness? It’s only fair I get you back.”
But she didn’t wait for Azriel’s reply, because she was already sprinting to her room.
She couldn’t want this.
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velidewrites · 10 months
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Cassian, frantically searching his pockets: I lost my keys, can I borrow yours?
Summer Court prison guard: No
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thisblogisaboutabook · 3 months
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The Fated Truth
Azriel x Reader
Truth-Teller’s origin story. A multi-pov oneshot.
A/N: this story came to me after listening to the songs seven, vigilante shit, it’s nice to have a friend, and my tears ricochet by taylor swift.
warnings: attempted sa, language, suggestive language, parental abuse, violence, main character death
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The Angel
-Ladies always rise above -
Remove the dagger from his heart.
-Ladies know what people want-
Wipe the blood from the corner of your kohl lined eyes.
-Someone sweet-
Spit on the bastard.
-Someone kind-
Swipe at the next overgrown male.
-Someone fun-
Hit your mark, swing around, drive your dagger into the brute on your six.
“Well, shit.” you think to yourself as a group of ten overgrown bats rush toward you. Siphons glowing.
The irony isn’t lost on you that yet another thing they withheld from you would contribute in damning their very existence. A female with siphons was considered absurd and absolutely out of the question, it wasn’t your place - yet this incontrolable blast of raw killing power begged to differ.
One moment those pricks were running toward you and the next, they were ashes in the wind.
Looking at the dead females around you, pure rage boils within. Your insides could be cooked at this point for all you know. Not a single feeling but uncontrollable rage.
A gasp breaks the silence. One of the females is still alive. Running to her, her eyes filled with panic, breaths rapid and shallow. You lean down and whisper to her before unsheathing your dagger and holding it up. Her eyes widen in terror but not at you - behind you. You turn to look.
“Azri-“
The blast of power hit before you could finish saying it - your mate’s name - your final breath.
~~~~~~~~~~
The Journal
Nine year old Y/N
“I made a new friend! His name is Azriel. He’s like me! He’s two years older than me and can’t fly but he still has his wings. I wish I still had mine, we could learn to fly together. Azriel has burn scars too but his are on his hands instead of his back like mine.
He’s really quiet but it’s okay, I talk and he listens! He has shadow powers though. I don’t think I’m supposed to say this but they’re really cute! One of them followed me home from my chores today.
I have to go now. Dad is yelling. I think he’s mad again.”
11 year old Y/N
“Father hit me again last night. I got upset and my power hiccuped. I asked him for a siphon and he locked me in the cellar for asking. I have bruises that hurt really badly but I’m okay.
Azriel saw me this morning. I tried to hide the bruises but he notices everything. I cried and he listened to me. Sometimes I think he’s the only person who sees me.”
13 year old Y/N
“One of father’s friends came over two nights ago - they were drinking. I had to refill their mugs of ale and the friend grabbed me inappropriately. Father laughed. When he left the room his friend pulled me into his lap and his hand drifted below my waist. I was scared and my power flickered, throwing me backward and flipping the chair over with him in it.
The blast broke his arm and nose. I don’t feel bad.
I tried telling father what happened but he didn’t listen. He locked me in the cellar from that night until this morning.
One of Azriel’s shadows found me and picked the lock. Father either forgot he locked me away or didn’t care because he never came to check on me or give me food. I found a canteen of water on one of the shelves though.
Azriel retrieved me as soon as his shadow notified him. He took me back to Rhysand’s Mother’s cabin and she fed me. Azriel stayed by my side as I took a bath - there were even bubbles. I’ve never had a bath with bubbles before. Azriel saw my scars peaking over my towel after I climbed out of the bath and instinctively clenched his hands. I took them in my hands and kissed them. Our scars prove our strength. He tells me mine are beautiful but his are too. All of him is.
He’s my best friend.”
15 Year Old Y/N
“I spent the day with Azriel yesterday. Sometimes we sneak away and train. He teaches me self-defense maneuvers and even some Illyrian fighting techniques. My powers have been growing a lot lately too. I am still not allowed siphons though. It’s getting harder to contain but training with Azriel serves as an outlet.
I got into a fight with father again two nights ago. He threw a knife at me. I avoided it but if it hit me, it would have landed in my chest. He called me an “ungrateful whore just like my mother.” I was told that mother died in childbirth but sometimes I wonder if it’s not true.
When he locked me in the cellar this time, I let out a blast of power. It ripped a shelf off the wall and down with it came a dusty box I’d never seen before. I opened it to find a beautiful obsidian-hilted knife and a note that said:
For my beautiful babe. May the light of truth always find you, even in the darkest places. I will always love you. -Mother.
I can’t believe it was there all of this time. It broke my heart to know that she had been locked away in the cellar too. The only thing she was able to give me. She loved me. Those words meant so much. Someday I will be reunited with her in the realm beyond and she’ll share her truth with me.
Oh I almost forgot!! Azriel snuck into my room this evening and I showed him the knife. He held me while I cried tears of joy and sadness over this gift from my mother.
He’s going to train me in wielding it.”
16 Year old Y/N
Father was away on a training exercise last night so I went to a party at Rhysand’s cabin. It was fun but Morrigan was there. She’s so beautiful and I think Azriel likes her. He looks at her like she’s the brightest star in the sky.
He’s my best friend and I have loved him for a long time but sometimes, I feel an ache in my chest. Maybe I love him as more than a friend? I left the party early and trained with my hunting knife alone at our usual spot. He didn’t come looking for me.
This morning he stopped by and we practiced together. He seemed sad for a bit but I didn’t press. He tends to prefer more physical methods of expressing his feelings. He was still sullen afterward so I brought him back to my house for tea. We laid in bed together for hours. I know it’s frowned upon but it’s never gone past holding each other. He needs touch as much as I need his listening ear.
I think I’m going to ask him to spend the night.
17 year old Y/N
Yesterday was my 17th birthday. Father didn’t pay any mind to it as always. He says it’s “a reminder of what I did to my mother.” He drank himself into oblivion which left me free to leave the house. He probably never realized I left.
Sometimes I want to tell him that I know his secret - that there was more to her death than my birth but I know better. The following blow up would be catastrophic. At this point, my power has been growing so much that I think… I think I’m more of a danger to him than he is to me.
But… something big happened. Azriel took me flying. We looked at the stars and he flew me far north to see the Aurora. It was almost as beautiful as him. I may or may not have cried tears of joy.
Az playfully kissed my tears away but then something happened - what started as friendly kisses sparked a flame within me and I… I noticed a shift in his scent too. We locked eyes and he kissed my lips. Hard, fervently, like maybe he sees me as something more. We landed in a clearing under the Aurora and kissed for hours.
I love him. I love him wholeheartedly.
18 year old Y/N
Something happened last night! Az and I have spent a lot of nights together recently. Any time father is away, he comes over and we lay in bed kissing and talking for hours until his shadows inevitably lull me to sleep. But last night, I kissed his jaw and down his neck - he grabbed my wrist and growled!! Not a scary growl but a… possessive growl. He told me that if we started this, he wouldn’t be able to hold back.
So…. I kept kissing him. Lower. And Lower. And, well… the rumors about wingspan are true.
We had each other over and over all night, until Cassian and Rhys came knocking on my door looking for him.
18 Year old Y/N part two:
Father has hardly been around. He’s been visiting other camps. I’m thankful for the break from him and especially thankful for the time I’ve spent with Azriel. We’ve spent countless hours entangled with each other over the past few months. My power has been stirring a lot, it’s still growing. Training hasn’t been enough so this physical outlet between Azriel and I has been a lifeline. I can’t get enough of him. He told me he loved me - and I knew this time it was different. He truly loves me and not just as his friend. He knows that I love him too.
But things have also been trying… Morrigan has visited a few times recently and he’s still so enamored by her. Honestly, I get it. But it still hurts. Sometimes I want to say something about it but I don’t want to cause problems. There’s a rumor that she slept with Cassian a couple of years ago and things have been different between Azriel and Morrigan ever since. He broods more than ever when she’s around.
Maybe I need to fuck him senseless, until all he can think about is me.
Just kidding, but seriously.
19 Year Old Y/N
“I have a secret.
A really big, life altering secret.
Azriel is my mate. I don’t know if he knows but last night - things were really passionate, when we came together, that golden thread people talk about, it just… SNAPPED for me.
Things have been really bad with father lately and there have been more wing clippings happening. My heart hurts for the girls. I used to feel sad because I never had a chance to touch the skies (until Azriel learned to fly and carried me into them) - but to have been able to fly for so many years and lose the ability. I couldn’t imagine. Those males deserve to suffer.
Father made a comment recently saying that he gave me a ‘gift’ by cutting off and burning my wings as a child. It made me furious - my power slipped. It destroyed most of our living room furniture and half our kitchen table. I could scent the fear in him when it happened. I think if he wasn’t such a coward - he would have killed me. I have hardly seen him since.”
20 Year old Y/N
“Azriel is taking me to a formal party at another camp! I can’t wait. Rhysand’s mother even made me a dress for it. It’s the most beautiful clothing I’ve ever owned. She also added a hidden sheath for my knife.
I just finished getting ready - I feel like a shooting star. I’ve never felt so… so powerful and gorgeous. My eyes are lined with kohl and my hair is braided with silvery strands woven in.
Tonight is the night I’m telling Azriel. I’m nervous, so, so nervous, but he deserves to know that we’re mates.
Morrigan will be at the party too. I really hope I’m not making a mistake by telling him tonight. I know he still cares for her so I will wait until after the party and it’s just the two of us in the sky before telling him. Maybe he’ll take me to look at the Aurora again.”
~~~~~~~~~~
The Survivor
The infamous Shadowsinger made his way to her - approaching slowly, trembling, two palms up in the air as if to placate her.
He knelt down to the female who cried out in a blood curdling scream of pain and fear.
“P-pl-please don’t!! Don’t hurt me!”
“I’m here. You are safe.” The Shadowsinger choked out.
She didn’t understand. Why would he kill that female? She was only trying to help.
“Y-yo-you ki-killed h-her.” She cried out right before everything went black.
~~~~~~~~~~
The Shadowsinger
Devastation. Pure devastation threatened to rip Azriel to shreds. What the hell happened in a matter of hours?
He’d barely seen Y/N at the dance. She’d arrived to the party with all eyes on her. She held her head high, wearing her scars proudly. He couldn’t help but admire how she let them shine tonight. He’d walked in with his hand on her back his scarred skin to her scarred skin. It wasn’t a flaw at all, but a lovely match. They were beautiful together.
Tonight was the night he would ask her to move in with him. He was now making a small salary - enough to buy a little cabin for the two of them. It was time for her to get the hell away from her horrid father. He planned to take her to view the aurora that she loved so much - and present her with a special gift - her very own siphons. She was the strongest Illyrian female he knew - really she was stronger than any Illyrian he knew aside from maybe him, Rhys, and Cassian. She’d struggled with her power and the misogynistic Illyrian bastards in Windhaven refused to allow her or any female such a privilege.
He’d worked out a plan with Rhys, who convinced the smith that crafted the siphons that he was going to try his hand at wearing siphons one more time - claiming he had a new method of siphoning his power through them that would prevent shattering. While they both knew it was bullshit and the siphons would never work for Rhys - they would then gift them to Y/N without raising suspicion.
Mor was at the dance tonight. He had gone over to visit with her and shared his plans for tonight with her. She squealed and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek and a huge hug, requesting a celebratory dance. They’d gone out on the dance floor for a couple of songs and when he pulled away to steal a dance with Y/N she was gone.
He’d searched the party through when a couple of males burst through the door - yelling of a female going crazy and murdering local villagers.
Az immediately vacated the party to take down the assailant - sending another partygoer to alert Rhys and Cassian who were currently bedding a set of twins in one of the suites.
He was taken back when he landed at the site of the attack. The carnage was brutal with blood coating the snowy ground, littered in dead males and females. His heart nearly stopped when he realized, at the center of it all, there she was. Y/N holding her hunting knife over a severely injured female.
Stunned by the sight, Azriel prepared to send a wave of power out and knock the knife from her hand. Right as the power readied itself for Azriel to fire, she turned and looked at him. Her eyes met his and snap. His body jolted - a golden thread between him and the blood splattered beauty before him - the surge caused his arm to jerk and a much more powerful blast emitted from his siphons. He missed his target. For the first time in his life, he missed it. Instead of the knife, the deadly blast of power hit her.
His mate. His best friend. His equal. His eternity - ripped away in a second.
Everything after that was a blur. His only memories of those moments played on a constant reel in his head flashing images of the injured girl screaming “you killed her!!!!”, collapsing on top of Y/N’s lifeless body, screaming to the mother or any other deity that may listen - begging for her chest to rise and fall again, and then four strong hands pulling him off of her before everything went black and his brothers voice calmed his mind.
~~~~~~~~~~
Days later Azriel woke up from whatever sedation Rhys had put him in. When he woke, Cassian was by his side. It was all of a minute before the memory came flooding back.
Azriel thrashed only to find he’d been restrained.
“Brother..” Cassian said firmly.
“Brother!” he yelled
Azriel’s wrists and ankles were on fire as he thrashed. He had to get to her, had to.
Finally Azriel cried out “Y/N!!! Y/N!!!!”
“My mate! Where is she!? WHERE IS SHE!?” he screamed and cried, thrashing against the restraints with all of his might.
Everything went dark again.
“Az…..” Rhys spoke softly into his mind
Azriel didn’t have the strength to scream or yell in this space of sedation. He could only whisper “where is she?”
Silence filled the void of his mind before Rhys spoke. “She’s gone, Az.”
Devastation flooded through him, filling him completely, making that one sided bond reverberate every ounce of emotion back to him.
Rhys waited patiently, sending soothing waves of darkness into his mind. Knowing Azriel well enough to wait until he was ready to send a thought back.
“Why, Rhys? Why did she do it?”
Again, that damned silence as Rhys paused.
“If I show you now, I’ll have to keep you under for longer, Az. You’re a danger to yourself right now and this… it’s heavy, brother.”
“Do it” he gritted.
Azriel’s mind became entranced in a vision. Before him a massacre. He was seeing through the eyes of a frightened female, eyes bleary from sobbing.
A large group of males had corralled several females into a circle, some as young as five or six. The males all carried sharp objects ranging from sickles and scythes to swords and axes.
A male stepped forward - Y/N’s father - who spoke:
“Females of Illyria have not served us well in many years. They forget that their purpose is to care for us, maintain our homes, and cater to our physical needs. Instead, they insult us by wasting time and energy on training - as if our protection is not enough? Young females smuggle herbs into our camps that delay their bleed so they can fly where they please, whoring around with whomever they please. These behaviors reflect negatively on all of Illyria, leaving us to appear weak to enemies.”
And then the bloodshed began. The males ran at the females, corralling them in closer and closer. Butchering wings and brutalizing any female who dared fight back. The screaming, gods awful screaming, pierced the air.
Male screams suddenly burst out - a blast of power knocking ten of them on their asses.
And there she was, in her resplendent glory.
“Hello boys.” She smirked.
Y/N’s father stepped forward. “My traitorous daughter, and dressed like a slut too. Shall we show them what happens to women who don’t obey.”
“Oh yes, ladies, my father took my wings when I was four. He burnt the stumps too. See these scars?” She turned around briefly with a wave to her back. “Someone I love helped me realize how beautiful they are, a stark reminder of what I can overcome.”
She paused, looking to the females as she addressed her father:
“So yes, father, perhaps this is the fate of disobedient females - but allow me the honor of showing YOU the fate of males who think they can steal a females power.”
-They say looks can kill and I might try-
Her piercing eyes again met her father as she threw a hand out, sending another blast of power - a death blow - turning him to ash in the wind.
Before any of the males could react, she sent another larger blast, creating an opening near the most vulnerable of the females.
“RUN! Those of you who can fight - you may stay. Those of you who are unable - there is no shame in leaving now! Seek shelter!”
The females nodded toward a teenage girl, signaling her to gather the youngest females and ran off with them. Any males that tried stopping them were turned to ash.
“Ladies, show them who we are!” Y/N cried.
-The ladies simply had enough-
They were outnumbered, so terribly outnumbered. Some females had died before Y/N arrived - bleeding out from the butchering of their wings but the few remaining females fought bravely. Because of their lack of training, the males easily overtook many of them but Y/N led them bravely, valiantly, taking them out as best as she could.
As the female numbers lessened Y/N cried out for the females to evacuate, to seek healers. The remainder of the females fled aside from two females (one of which this visions point of view was from) who appeared to have more training than the others.
Y/N looked to them giving a knowing look seemingly saying “give them hell.” They adjusted their stances into that of the most fearsome warriors, and took on the remaining males as more and more fled in.
Y/N’s power was like nothing they’d ever seen. She took down male after male.
Before she could react, two males approached from behind taking out the other female and knocking out the vision of the female whose mind Rhys had gleaned into.
As the female blacked out, the vision faded away. Silence once again filled the air for several minutes before Azriel said:
“But.. she was holding a knife over the female. I don’t understand.”
Rhys answered in a heartbreakingly soft tone
“I can show you, brother. But this will be hard to see. Are you sure?”
Azriel replied firmly, “show me.”
Rhys hesitated before continuing. But then the vision resumed as the female regained consciousness:
Her eyes were so blurry. She was hurting terribly but managed a gasp. Around her, all of the males were dead and the bodies of their fallen sisters painted the snow red. Emotion flooded through her, she couldn’t move. As her vision cleared further, she saw her. The female who fought so bravely for them.
Y/N saw her and ran over. The blood caking her braid causing panic. The trauma of this night was too much - the blood so triggering. Y/N sensed the fear and whispered “I am here. You are safe now. Look at my eyes, not around you, not at the blood on me, just my eyes.” The female tried but couldn’t look away from the blood in her hair. “I’m going to bring my knife out and cut the braid. Do not be afraid.” Y/N once again unsheathed her knife, lifting it, when loud wings flapped in. The injured female couldn’t get words out, her only signal to Y/N, a wide eyed look of panic.
Y/N turned around - breathed out “Azri-“ just as that fatal blow of power hit her.
“STOP!” Azriel cried out in his mind. It was too much.
Azriel’s body began convulsing as a mixture of rage, heartbreak, and panic flew through him. “I KILLED HER. I KILLED HER. MY MATE. MY MATE. MY MATE.”
Rhys had no choice but to send out another wave of sedation to his brother.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next several weeks were spent in and out of sedation. Rhysand had found that Y/N’s father had been planning the attack for months, perhaps even longer. The camp was chosen for the first attack because of the party - a distraction to lessen the chances of interference from outsiders.
He planned to carry out more attacks throughout Illyria in coming months. Had it not been for Y/N, more would have happened. Her heroic actions prevented so many more losses than just the ones that were saved that night.
Azriel stayed bedridden for months - only leaving when Cassian and Rhys nagged him enough that it wasn’t worth the energy to refuse them. One day Rhys brought in a box, inside the box, Y/N’s knife and a journal. “She would have wanted you to have this.”
Azriel’s chest broke at the sight. Her mothers knife, the knife they’d spent hundreds of hours training with. He almost refused it but it felt like a piece of her. A reminder of her goodness, of the mate he lost.
That night he laid it under his pillow - an odd comfort as he read through the journal. The journal unveiling that she knew they were mates. His heart cracked further knowing that the reason she’d stepped out that night was likely to get some air after she saw him with Morrigan. “Stupid.” His inner thoughts cried out to him. How could he have been so blind?
He lay awake for half the night as he read through her journal - he sobbed for hours until his shadows finally lulled him to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~
Truth-Teller
“Azriel” a soft voice whispered.
“Azriel” the lovely voice whispered again.
He was dreaming.
He tried to whisper her name but couldn’t speak.
“I don’t have much time, I need you to listen.”
He again attempted to speak but no sound came. He nodded his head.
A flash of light illuminated his mind and there she was. Somehow even more beautiful than she’d been - if that were possible. Her form illuminated with an incandescent glow, face full of light - a light that only came from insurmountable joy and happiness. And behind her, behind her were stunning golden feathered wings. An angel, his angel, stood before him… with six glowing siphons.
“Azriel, please do not cry for me. I am at peace. This was always my destiny. The lovely truth of my life was that all of the pain led me to you, I found a love, a friendship, that so few experience. Every step led me to where I am now and this afterlife is beautiful. The truth of life is that fate is inevitable.”
She waved a hand and out stepped more winged females. The females who died in the attack.
“What happened was not an accident, it was fate. You could not have changed the outcome. When you sent your power out toward me and the bond snapped, my power shot through the bond into you, reflecting back to me. You only sent out a small blast, the fatal blow came from my refracted power.”
Azriel’s eyes widened at the revelation. His heart still completely shattered but the guilt slightly lessened.
“When you sealed my fate it trapped a piece of my soul in the knife. I am forever bound to Truth-Teller. When you carry truth-teller you carry a piece of my power, of me, with you. Though, I will be with you regardless, as a part of me will always rest…” she held a delicate hand to her heart, “right here.”
His mind raced. Truth-Teller. What she’d named her knife after the truth of her mother was unveiled with it.
“I must go now, Azriel.” She waved an arm again to her fellow angels. “I am the keeper of the Mother’s gate and this is my legion. This was always my destiny - this and to love you. I will keep the bastards out and someday, someday far from now, I will hold the gate open for you.
Until then, may the truth set you free my love.”
A beautiful woman resembling Y/N stepped forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her mother. The angels all nodded to Azriel in confirmation.
“My precious mate, I will love you for eternity.” Y/N whispered as she shot toward the sky - right into the most vibrant aurora he’d ever seen.
~~~~~~~~~~
Truth-Teller
500 Years Later
Azriel still thought of her every damn day, Truth-Teller never leaving his side. His North Star, the angel guiding him through life. He never told his brothers - didn’t know how to explain how that broken mating bond glowed inside him whenever his intuition failed. She’d guided him in her own way all of these years.
Leading up to the war with Hybern the tug became stronger and stronger. A warning of the strife to come.
For the first time since the night Rhys brought him her journal and Truth-Teller, she reappeared to him.
“Azriel.” Her melodic voice whispered, a sweet song serenading his soul.
“Azriel, I don’t have much time.” that honeyed voice whispered.
In the same fashion as last time, he couldn’t speak. Managing only to nod.
“I have carefully pulled the strings of fate as much as I am capable. A war is coming with a fate that I am unable to divulge. The Mother has allowed me to share just this:
“The fawn who sees carries the truth. When the time comes, you will know.”
Azriel furrowed his brows with confusion.
Y/N smiled softly, outshining any star in the sky, more captivating than the spirits of Starfall. “The truth will set you free. Do not fear loving again.”
He fought and fought, trying to speak, thrashing against the walls of his mind he was able to mutter three words to her.
“I love you.”
She placed a hand on her heart.
“I know, my love.”
Spreading those magnificent wings, she shot from his mind, the void filling with the echoes of her song.
“Until eternity reunites our souls.”
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jarofstyles · 7 months
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Second to last part… who’s scared?
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—-
Y/N wanted to cry.
It had been 4 days since she had seen Harry.
The next day she had texted him to come over but he had replied that he had to go see his cousin who lived an hour away. That was fine, sure, but the lack of invite had stung a little. She had no right to be upset about it considering she wasn’t owed it, Harry had a right to hang out with him alone… but they usually went together. He had a cabin out near a lake and they’d spent a few weekends there with him. Y/N quite liked his cousin.
Usually he would text her an option to go, at the very least. She sometimes couldn’t because of work or classes but there wasn't even the option to deny it this time. He had simply left. He was answering her texts, not ignoring her at all, but it was obvious something was off. The energy, the vibe, whatever you wanted to call it was very wrong and it made her feel sick to her tummy. She was curled on her couch with a mug of tea, having finished her last exam today. Harry had finished his all in two days, choosing to cram them instead of spread them out like she had because it worked better for his brain to let things go in a short amount of time instead of holding off. Getting it over with was the best option.
She exhaled into the steam, taking a sip of the chamomile. It wasn’t as good as Harry made it, but it did the job.
Y/N was praying in her head that she hadn’t fucked everything up. The more days he was gone, the more she realized she had become so used to him as a daily fixture, looked forward to her daily dose of his silliness. Being without him made her feel the echoing emptiness in her chest. Cold and sad and generally miserable. It had caught her off guard. She prided herself on her independence, on her ability to take care of herself. It wasn’t that she still couldn’t do that. It was the fact that she felt like something big was gone every day, wriggling under her skin to let her know something was wrong. He had become routine even with his spontaneity.
4 days was starting to feel like forever. She just wanted him back.
-
The sounds of nature didn’t soothe him the way he had originally sought out. Sitting on the dock of the cabin, he felt it bob with the water as he held his knees to his chest. It was a bit nippy out, still early in the morning. The cool air helped wake him up, his tea in a travel mug next to him as the sweater did it’s best to keep him as warm as it could. The rising sun was peeking through the trees, the momentary warm when the leaves fluttered and exposed it a breath of relief.
The weekend here had been good for him in a lot of ways, but it hasn't fixed everything. His heart still ached. It ached in a way he had thought people were dramatizing in the movies and the songs. His hand rubbed at the spot his heart rested under but no amount of soothing did much to keep it from aching. Throbbing and not in a good way. It was this weekend that opened his eyes up to seeing that it was just as bad as people said. Being in love was so multidimensional that it sort of freaked him out.
He had always been a fan of love stories. The gooey and mushy, the cotton candy softness of two people’s eyes meeting and the rest being history. He was a crier during romance movies, enjoying the final reconciliation at the end with the kiss and the promise of forever. He had never been fond of sad endings, of the protagonist losing the girl and walking out into the night alone. In his mind, everyone deserved love and deserved to feel adored.
With Y/N, he had felt that sort of adoration. That’s part of why he felt so confused. So conflicted with the situation. There was no way he had been reading her adoration wrong. Y/N wasn’t an overly affectionate person with people. That much was obvious to anyone who knew her. She was down to give a hug but she didn’t lay on the flattery thick. She didn't seek out touch. His Y/N was someone who kept her body and her vulnerable thoughts to herself. This arrangement, it had brought out a side of her that he had seen glimpses of but brought it fully to the front. Pouts for cuddles and sweet little kisses on the lips, giggles in bed. Her slipping her hands under his shirt to seek his warmth out, kisses smeared to his neck and cheeks and her smaller hands gripping his jaw so she could simply stare at him. She told him how beautiful she thought he was. Expressed how much she adored him, how much he made her laugh and how lucky she felt to be able to have him in her life.
So what the hell had gone wrong? What had pushed her away from him?
Harry had spent a lot of time wracking his brain to try and figure out what he could have done. Went through their days step by step, word by word to try and pinpoint what could have brought it on. There was nothing on his end, no change or risky behavior besides trying to express to her that night how much he had actually missed her. But even then, she had caved and came to see him. There had been no shift in their relationship until they were at the cafe.
He didn’t want to entertain the thought of her being into that bellend that had come up to the table, but that was the only thing he could think of. He wasn’t Y/N’s type at all. Obnoxious and obviously trying to get into her pants. He wouldn’t have much to communicate with her about. He wasn’t being judgemental- He had Niall look into the guy for him. Creepy? Maybe. But it had bothered him and Niall knew everyone and anyone. It took only a day for him to tell Harry just what he had suspected. The guy was a dickhead and he was definitely trying to get into Y/N’s pants.
That gross sick feeling had been lingering in his stomach ever since. He knew Y/N wasn’t hooking up with him simply because he had been getting pretty consistent texts from her about exams and he did trust her above all else. Y/N may be callous and a bit oblivious to people but she wasn’t a liar. She would be honest with him if she was into him. He had that faith in her. He still loved her, he didn’t think poorly of her even if the feelings weren’t returned.
“Still hiding from her?” His cousin appeared at the shoreline, fishing pole in hand. Harry stiffened slightly, wiping under his eye as a tear he hadn’t realized fell went down his cheek. God damn it. Sometimes he hated how sensitive he was.
“Shut up.” he grumbled, pulling his tea back to his lips as Jack laughed under his breath. His cousin wasn’t one to sugar coat things, let alone baby Harry. “M’not hiding. I’m trying to figure out how the hell to tell her that m’in love with her and we have to stop fucking around because if we don’t I’m going to lose my mind knowing she doesn’t feel the same.” Harry’s voice was hoarse from lack of use, this being the first time he spoke in quite a few hours. It was embarrassing to him, how devastated he felt right now, but he needed someone to talk to. Jack was the obvious choice. He was also the only other person he felt comfortable talking to about his emotions when they ran this deep. Usually it was Y/N… but obviously that wasn’t an option right now.
“Yes, you are. She’s been texting you every day. Obviously she isn’t upset with you or disgusted at the sight of you. I think you need to grow a pair and actually speak to her. She isn’t going to be patient with you running away for a long time.” That was a fact, unfortunately. Y/N wasn’t known for her patience. “H, you don’t know she doesn’t feel the same. Maybe she just put her foot in her mouth because you were acting like a caveman. I have always thought you two would end up together.” Jack sighed, loading up the pole with bait before casting, letting the quiet of the forest settle for a few moments so his words could sink in. “If you want my honest opinion, which you’re getting regardless of the answer, I think she is just as into you as you are into her. She loves you back. You got scared, felt rejected, and ran. I can’t say I wouldn’t lick my wounds for a day but you can’t hide out and not tell her. It’s gone past the way you can just brush it off.”
Harry knew he was right but he desperately didn’t want to admit that to him. His pride felt wounded enough as it was.
“I know. I’m just fucking terrifeid of fucking all of this up, J. She’s… she’s my best friend. I dunno what I’ll do without her.”
“Who says you’re going to have to go without her, Harry? Who says she isn’t going to be relieved you tell her first. Who says she isn’t going to say she loves you too and you two don’t ride off into the sunset to have dozens of stupidly cute babies and a bunch of dogs?” Jack sighed, a bit exasperated from having such an unusually pessimistic Harry to soothe for a few days in a row.
“Y/N is a cat person.” he muttered, wincing as he felt something hit the back of his head a few moments after. “Oi, what the fuck?”
“I threw a strawberry at that thick head to knock you out of your wallowing. Just go. Get the fuck out of my house and go home to her. She’s done with exams. It won’t distract her anymore. You can come back if she rejects you. But she won’t.”
Y/N: when are you gonna be homeeee.
H: actually, I just got home.
H: you cool to come over in a bit? An hour? I’d like to talk if that’s alright.
Y/N: sure, sure. I’ll be over.
She was going to throw up. Y/N was sure of it.
He wanted to talk. To Talk. That was never good.
Y/N pulled her sweatshirt closer to her body as she walked down the hallway to his door, hands shaking slightly. She’d never been this nervous meeting up with Harry and it was a very weird feeling, one she wasn’t sure she liked. With him, she felt pretty certain that she would be warmly welcomed, even before they’d had sex. He scooped her into a hug and she would grumble but sink deeper into the embrace when he failed to let go past the usual allotted hug time one would consider normal. Now, however, she felt uneasy.
His abnormal behavior had been the main cause of her stress now that classes had paused for a little bit. She wrung her hands together under the sleeves of her sweatshirt, trying to relax before the door opened. There wasn’t the usual music playing her typically had blasting to a questionable level when she arrived. It was oddly quiet.
Her heart jumped as she heard the click of the lock, speeding up as the door opened to reveal Harry. Her Harry, with his tousled hair and soft green jumper covering his body with his jeans with a hole in the knee, with a bit of stubble above his lip and littering his chin. With darker circles under her eyes that had her brow furrowing with concern. He looked so pretty, but so exhausted.
“Why didn’t y’use your key?” His voice was soft, not cold like she had halfway expected.
“I…” she looked down at her shoes, kicking slightly at the worn carpet as she tried to not sound pathetic in her response. “I wasn’t sure if I should. It’s been a little weird lately and I just didn’t want to barge in.” Her attempt had failed, the reply sounding even more weak than she had tried to avoid.
“Y/N…” He sighed, opening his arms and pulling her into them. “M’not angry at you. I never was. You don’t have to be afraid to come here.”
This was the shit he had been trying to avoid. He didn’t want to make her feel any less safe or comfortable with him and she had felt like she was out of line if she had used a key he had given her far before. His efforts to try and keep himself normal had failed and she had picked up on his upset. She had looked so unsure and uneasy, the sweatshirt hiding her hands and averting her eyes. Internally he cursed, needing to explain this soon before he burst.
Regardless of the pressing matter, he allowed himself to indulge in the hug. Squeezing her to his body and letting his nose rest against her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and the faint notes of her perfume. He had missed her so fucking much. 4 days. He was the pathetic one, really. It took a moment to pry himself away from her, exhaling as he did so.
“Let’s sit down.”
Settling on the couch, he felt like perhaps he was the one who would get sick. Or his heart would beat out of his chest. Either one that happened first.
“I’m sorry.” Y/N peeped, looking at him with sad eyes. “I know I was harsh with you at the cafe. I didn’t mean to be. I was really mean, Harry. I know I jokingly bully you sometimes but I know I hurt your feelings and it felt so awful to see you get sad like that. I know you said you weren’t angry, but I still hurt you. We haven’t spent full days apart.. Probably since we met, and as much as I know you’re going to deny it, I drove you away. You didn’t even want me to come with you to the cabin.” Y/N cursed herself for feeling a slight burning settling behind her eyes. It wasn’t about her right now. She knows she hurt his feelings, she needed to apologize for that thoroughly. “I should have included you in the study group and not made you feel bad for wanting me around.”
Harry stayed quiet, listening to her as she spoke. It made him feel weird, hearing her be so earnest and apologizing so openly to him. Y/N was a stubborn girl, though she did admit her wrongs, she normally wasn’t wrong. That’s just how it was. His arm rested on the couch, picking at the strings on his throw blanket as she spoke about the study group, an exhale being released through his nose.
“That’s not why I was upset, Y/N.” He said softly as she spoke. “You.. You’re allowed to do things without me. I know I’m clingy, probably a little clingier than you’d prefer, but I was upset because…” his throat felt like it was clamped for a moment, knowing this was going to change the way she looked at him. “It was because you were so quick t’remind me we weren’t actually dating. That I basically didn’t have a claim to you or a right to get jealous. And then i realized you were right. The realization hurt a lot fucking more than I thought. You said it so easily and I think…” He paused again, looking away from her face. Like a coward. “I think it hurt me a lot because, to me, I was reading the way we were as a lot different than you probably were.”
The words stayed floating in between them as Y/N blinked a few times, confusion painting her face. That’s what he had been upset about? Her chest felt tight as she looked at his face, trying to meet his eyes to get more of an explanation of that. What direction had he thought it was going?
“I’m sorry, H.” She whispered. “What… Can you explain to me what you mean, though? What direction?” This was a time she didn’t want to jump to conclusions because she obviously hadn’t been the brightest bulb when it came to figuring out what had actually upset him.
He stayed silent for a moment, breathing out shakily. “I thought… I kind of thought we were on our way to dating. Or we were there, jus’ without the label. I was obviously reading a bit too far deep into it when you weren’t, but it was just easy to fall, I guess.” His voice felt strained, still a bit afraid to look at her face on the chance she was looking at him in pity. “I thought that we were falling into a relationship, that it meant more romantically. You were a lot more affectionate with me than you ever have been and I know we’ve always been really close but it felt so right to me. I was a bit naive and assumed that it was the both of us with real feelings developing but I know it was wrong of me to assume you felt the same without actually talking to you.” It felt like there were knives in his stomach, the nausea being traded with full on pain as he shifted uncomfortably, explaining himself.
“It was so easy to fall for you. You’re just really fucking amazing, Y/N. I’ve always thought that, always thought you were the coolest. It’s why I tried so hard to keep you around. You aren’t someone who lets people into your world the way I felt like you were letting me in. Being touchy with me and not being annoyed with me hanging on you and even initiating cuddling and kisses without sex. It felt like a whole lot more than friends with benefits and I was happy to let it keep going because I thought somehow it was meaning more to you too. But we never defined what it was that friends with benefits actually meant. So I just… made an arse of myself and assumed that it meant you wanted to be with me.” His hand ran through his hair, something he did when he felt a bit exasperated. “I let myself get caught up in it without thinking maybe it meant more to me and somehow, I fell in love with you.”
The whole world stilled for a moment. Y/N froze, eyes widening as she looked at Harry as he finally met her gaze. He couldn’t say it without looking her in the face, he wouldn’t allow himself to do that. She deserved the courtesy of seeing him when he said it. She sucked in a breath, ready to reply but Harry beat her to it.
“I just.. I know its a lot, Y/N. I know you didn’t sign up for that and I tried not to fall in love with you but fucks sake, just spend a day in my shoes. You’re perfect. It was impossible not to fall for you. I swear, I tried because I didn’t want to be in this position. I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. I want to keep you in my life forever.” His eyes glazed over with tears and she swore her heart tore into two. Fuck. Fuck. He had just bared his entire heart to her and was almost crying because he didn't want to lose her. She felt like her brain and heart had melted, the sparkle of hope glimmering bright now that she knew he felt the same.
“I understand you don’t feel the same. I see it now. I just… I can’t keep doing physical stuff with you. I’ll never get over the feelings if I keep going. I know it’s annoying and I’m sorry, Y/N. I still want to be your best friend-”
“Who says I want you to stop?”
Finally, her voice began to work again. Her own eyes glazed up, looking at him with so much warmth that Harry paused his entire speech and blinked a few times. He wanted to think he heard correctly but he felt himself reboot, buffering even as he looked at her confused.
“What?”
“What if I don’t want you to stop loving me?” her shaky voice echoed in the silent room, bouncing off the ears. “What if you’re a silly man and I’m a mean, cowardly woman and I don’t want to stop being intimate? What if I want the exact same thing and have felt the exact same way, but you’re much braver than I am with admitting your feelings?” Her eyes bore into his.
Harry felt like his world had tilted on its axis. He was silent for a moment, trying to make sure he hadn’t just hallucinated hearing those words from her as she shifted closer to him. He hadn’t accounted for this reaction. So sure, so positive that he had been one sided pining since the incident that he had lost almost all hope- only for her to bring that assumption crashing down and breaking like porcelain plates.
“You….” He swallowed, throat bobbing as he looked at her with confusion. “You do?” His voice trembled a bit in disbelief, so hesitant to let the sparks of hope ignite the flames that had previously been smoldered in his chest. This had been the one outcome he hadn’t allowed himself to think about. If he had allowed the hopeful part of him to flourish, he worried that he would have an even hard time accepting what he had thought the truth would be. He wasn’t usually pessimistic but Y/N had seemed to be far too good to be true when he had been knocked out of his smoky bubble he had engulfed himself in.
Y/N’s heart splintered at his disbelief. She had made him feel like she hadn’t loved him back and it was her fault for being so scared, so cowardly. His slightly hesitant gaze made her get up from her spot, climbing on top of his lap.
“Yeah.” She peeped, placing her arms around him for a hug. Clutching him to her, exhaling weakly as she buried her face in his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, H.” Her whimper of an apology had him closing his arms around her, the shock wearing off as she collapsed and rested her weight on top of him. It was only a few moments later that he felt hot tears on his neck, his stomach twisting at the idea of her crying as he cooed softly under his breath.
“No… hey, no. No crying. It’s okay.” He whispered, moving to kiss the side of her head as his hands drew up and down her back in the comforting motions he usually did. She sniffled against him, his body and kind a torn mess of wanting to comfort and console and wanting to celebrate. It almost felt too good to be true.
“It’s not. I hurt your feelings because I was scare n’frustrated and I was a big baby who didn’t want to admit I loved you first and I-“ she was interrupted with Harry gently pulling her back, her breathing catching as she looked at him. His face significantly brighter than it had been when he had opened the door, she blinked and went to reply but was cut off by his mouth.
His plush, pink lips pressing against her slightly chapped ones, holding the back of her neck as she let out a little noise against them. Her brain went fuzzy, melting into the familiar warmth of his kiss, her body lighting up with the hazy glaze that covered it, the heat tingling her belly and the fizziness in her heart that she decided to lean into rather than push away. Lips pulled back only for her to surge forward this time, desperately kissing him and pushing him back against the couch as she had decided she wasn’t done kissing him yet.
“Y’mean it?” He managed to breathe out, a pause in their kissing and heavy breathing giving him an opportunity. “Y’love me?” She nodded, but that wasn’t good enough for him. The grip on the back of her neck tightened. “Tell me. Say it.” He wanted to hear those words he had been positive he wouldn’t fall from the lips he couldn’t get enough of.
“I love you.” She pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. “Love you.” Another kiss to his jaw. “Love you, love you, I love you, Harry.” The kisses were pressed with the words, his chest squeezing and the candy cane fluff filling his stomach. It was hard to breathe in the best way, like pink smoke laced in love was clogging his throat and the only words he could get out were the ones professing it.
“Love you. I love you, Y/N.” He smiled, nose brushing against hers. “I have for a long fucking time and I… I shouldn’t have disappeared but I was so confident you didn’t feel the same-“
“I did. I was just being stupid and scared and wanted to remind myself. I got too excited when you were acting possessive and I was reminding myself that we weren’t dating and… I thought you were being hot. I loved that you got jealous because it meant you cared about what we had but I was so certain I was making it up and I’d be ruining our friendship… I was terrified. You just said we should fool around and I went and fell in love with you, it wasn’t what you asked for…” she babbled, wanting to make sure he knew that he hadn’t done a single thing wrong.
The explanation actually made sense if she felt anything like he did. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, trying not to overthink things. The relief and happiness was nearly leaking from his pores as he peppered her lips with his own kisses. It would have felt like a dream if he didn't feel his heart pounding out of his own chest even still. This time, though, for a much different reason. The flames had caught the kindling, erupting back into that blaze. Almost to a forest fire level, his giddiness had been contagious.
“Y’love me? For real?” He whispered, cupping her warm cheek as if it could ground him to the moment. Her face leaned into him, nuzzling into the slightly calloused hand like a kitten overly eager for affection as she nodded.
“I love you. For real, for real.” Her smile was watery, sniffling while his thumb brushed her slightly damp skin yet again. “Want to keep doing what we were but I want t’go on dates and hold your hand around and kiss you whenever we want, want to bring you to meet my mom as my boyfriend and I want- I want everything. I’m sorry I’ve been so nervous and silly and I almost ruined it but I was scared. I don’t have to be scared now.” Harry’s gaze itself made her wonder how the fuck she missed it. How she could have possibly thought it was one sided. His eyes were full of love. Of fondness. The man adored her and he didn’t even have to say it out loud. She felt it just being like this.
“This means I’m your boyfriend now, yeah?” he asked after another little kiss, trying to calm his overly excited nerves. This felt lovely. So, so lovely. His whole body was on fire, the bubbles in his guts raising to his chest. “I want to do all of that with you. We should have just talked before getting to this point but I… I’m so happy right now.” He felt his eyes stinging with a different type of tears. They’d been so silly, but it led to this. It had led to their connection and Harry really couldn’t regret that.
His glossy eyes made her coo quietly, her own babying of him commencing as she pressed her lips back to his and feeling the sparks come back into her own belly. “So, so happy. Love you, H. You’re my boyfriend.” She laughed, shaking her head as their noses nudged against each other, relishing in the closeness she was finally granted. “I’m your girlfriend. And we are both very, very stupid.”
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clairebear08 · 9 months
Note
Acotar bingo: unrequited love please, with Eris, Az, or Rhys, your choice. Nsfw of sfw are both fine. Your writing is amazing!
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Heart-Shaped (Azriel x Reader)
Bingo: Unrequited Love
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You were watching him again. You felt your cheeks redden as you averted your gaze, guilt instantly sweeping through you. He wasn’t yours, and he never would be, regardless of how much you wanted him. You hated that your crush on the Shadowsinger had only grown, even after he and your oldest sister got together.
Hard as you tried, you couldn’t get rid of them. Even when you went on dates with other males, you caught yourself thinking of Azriel, comparing them to him. Every difference becoming the only thing you could focus on. You’d fallen for a male who belonged to another. A male that belonged to your sister.
As you sat, exchanging gifts with your family, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of sadness and jealousy. Surrounding you were five happy couples who were spending yet another solstice celebration together, and you sat alone in the midst of it. It wasn’t as if you weren’t happy for them. You were, but it didn’t stop you from feeling like an outcast. It wasn’t always this bad. Up until two years ago, Mor would keep you company, but now, even she had found someone.
You toyed with your nails, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall at the sight of Azriel leaning down to kiss Elain. You needed to leave, your chest tightening to the point of pain. You rose, walking towards your sister and leaning down to whisper in her ear.
“My stomach is acting up, I think I need to go home.”
Feyre looked up at you, concern crossing her features, “Oh… I’m sorry, y/n. Do you need a lift home?”
The attention in the room shifted to you as you swallowed the lump in your throat, “No, I’ll be fine. It’s not too far.” Your eyes darted around the room before you cleared your throat, “Happy Birthday, Feyre… sorry.”
She gave you a sad smile, and in that moment, you knew that she saw through your lies. She nodded, standing and placing a kiss on your cheek, her voice soft at your ear, “You’ll find someone, y/n. And when you do, you’ll wonder why you were so hung up on Azriel.”
Your back straightened as she pulled back. You watched her for a moment before spinning on your heel and heading for the door.
You were grabbing your coat when you felt him, his husky voice awakening a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, “You sure you don’t want a lift, y/n?”
You closed your eyes, plastering a smile on your face before turning towards Azriel, “I’m sure. Besides it’s not a long walk.”
He nodded, looking you over before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small box, holding it out to you, “Happy Solstice.”
Gingerly, you took the box, running your hands along smooth sides, “Thank you. And tell Elain thank you as well.”
He cleared his throat, shifting his weight, “It isn’t from Elain. It’s from me.”
You wanted to kick yourself for the way your heartbeat sped up. This meant nothing. It was merely a gift from your sister’s boyfriend. He probably gave one to Nesta and Feyre as well, you weren’t special, “Oh, thanks, Azriel.”
He gave you a small smile before turning, heading back to your family. You rushed out the door, waiting until it clicked shut behind you before opening the box. You let out a strangled cry as the tears you’d been holding back finally fell. Your fingers shook slightly as you ran them over the smooth metal.
A heart-shaped necklace that perfectly matched to the color of your eyes.
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drconstellation · 5 months
Text
"Not Even At Gunpoint!"
Future Echoes of the Past #3
I didn't plan this meta. Well, maybe...just a tiny, weeny bit...I had been keeping a parallel in mind for a while...but not in this context. But it was kind of one of these moments:
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Lets start at the beginning.
@beebopboom has been exploring the three magic tricks that appear in the S2 opening sequence recently, and speculating how the third one might appear in S3, and I've been exploring the paintball fight scene at Tadfield Manor in S1E2 and how that relates to the Great War in Heaven that formed Hell, and the events around the Fall. The two topics intersect, as you have echoes of the Bullet Catch magic trick from the 1941 minisode in S2E4 appearing not once but at least twice at Tadfield Manor.
But...then I realised, there's more than one pointed gun. Way more.
I'd always liked this throwback line from Crowley in S2E1, when Nina asks him if he is a bookseller as well:
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Who would want to be a bookseller when this could happen to you?
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Shadwell, turning up at the book shop in S1E4, disturbs Aziraphale contacting Heaven through the portal (a modified Solomon's magic circle) under the oculus, and breaks in to confront him. The historical implications of Aziraphale's lines here are that before homosexuality was decriminalized in the UK meeting places for such people were often disguised as respectable looking book shops. Which makes Nina's question in S2E1 and Crowley's denial to her all the more...loaded? Ah, well, you can't fool Nina, now, can you?
Anyway, mah point is...Shadwell literally has Aziraphale at gunpoint, er, fingerpoint here. Loaded fingerpoint.
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But then, this isn't the first time Aziraphale has had a gun pointed at him. He had one pointed at him in the church in 1941 by the Nazi agent double-crossing Greta. His biggest fear, as always, isn't actually "dying," or standing in front of the guns, its the paperwork that he knows will go with getting a new body from the Ineffable Bureaucracy.
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Crowley turns up to rescue him, because he "didn't want to see [him] embarrassed." With a bit of equivocation between the two of them, all the time while at gunpoint from Greta, they team up to save each other.
This was even before we got to the Bullet Catch - his "show stopper!"
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Back to Tadfield Manor.
As they enter, Crowley is lined up in the crosshairs.
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Er, wait a minute...
Only Crowley is shown this way here, not Aziraphale. He's a target. I'm starting to ask what point in time this is referring to - the present or the past? Both. Yeah, why not both! The work I did in this previous meta in this series showed that Crowley was considered a target for early removal by the other demons-to-be prior to the Fall.
Then they are both shot.
I pointed out Aziraphale gets shot by blue paint, representing Heaven, but its a colour we don't see used again by any one in the fighting to come. But what I didn't talk about was WHERE he got hit - in the back. That's synonymous with treachery. Heaven has stabbed Aziraphale in the back, so to speak. wow. Nice - not.
And Crowley? He gets hit in the heart - just like the Norman/Lucifer parallel on the Yellow Team does a short while later during his "fall" scene - with the red paint, betrayed by the Red Team who represent the management in Heaven.
Seems the Ineffable Bureaucracy wanted both them out of the way during the Great War...it get more and more interesting each time I look closer at it...
So was Aziraphale ever in the crosshairs? Yep.
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And, as @vavoom-sorted-art points out, this is a time Aziraphale chooses to pick a weapon, and to fight. He didn't want the simple, safe deception trick with the ropes - he wanted a weapon. He really is much more the warrior than Crowley. Aziraphale, I think your nature as a principality is showing!
Firing that gun made Crowley sick to his stomach, and so did this metaphorical loaded gun - the Book of Life.
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As soon as he found out from Beelzebub it was a real possibility of being played he went back to protect Aziraphale. Crowley hates fighting - watch how often he will try shut it down as quickly as possible or try to escape it when he can. To him everyone has free will, and the person picking the fight with the other is imposing their will on them. That's 'not on' in his books.
Aziraphale, on the other hand, is still reacting with his ingrained Heavenly instincts - that he should follow his morals because they are 'right,' and more sophisticated weapons add weight to the moral argument. He thinks. Maybe. (Yeah, keep working on that doubt, angel.)
Az: Impressive hardware. I've looked at this gun, its not a proper one at all. It just shoots paintballs. Cr: Don't your lot disapprove of guns? Az: Unless they're in the right hands. Then they give weight to a moral argument. I think. Cr: [laughing] A moral argument? Really? *tosses gun away* C'mon. [Heads into the Manor.] [later, after Crowley changes the paintball guns to real guns...] Az: But there are people out there shooting at each other! Cr: Well -  Lends weight to their moral argument. Everyone has free will, including the right to murder. Just think of it as a microcosm of the universe.
I'll think I'll end this here and leave you with a small montage of the aftermath of all this gun play - everything going up in flames and smoke.
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Bring on S3!
If you didn't follow the links in the meta, and want to read the first two in this series, they are here:
#1: The Great War of Tadfield Manor
#2: The Newton/Crowley Mirror-Parallel in S1
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meowzfordayz · 3 months
Text
helplessly-in-love
Author’s Note: thanks for embarking on this lil helpless-friends-to-lovers journey w/ me. 🤗
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helplessly-in-love
Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader
Word Count: ~900
CW: none
they’re-both-so-helpless, emphasis-on-helpless
~faqs~
“Hey…”
“... hi!”
You can’t help but chuckle, an awkward smile that reminds Kyojuro of Home brightening your eyes. He sticks out his hand, a solemn expression on his face when you shake it, voice as serious as ever as he declares:
“Just so you are aware, you have officially agreed to be my romantic partner.”
“Kyojuro!” you exclaim, jaw dropping, cheeks hot, “I didn’t- You didn’t- We can’t-”
“-but we can! And we are!” he interrupts cheerfully, gaze twinkling mischievously, “Or is that not why you agreed to meet me?”
“I dunno,” you stammer, blinking quickly, hand burning as you realize you’re still clutching his fingers, snatching it away with an apologetic grimace, “I thought maybe this was the part where you tell me Haha so funny or Sorry, I was drunk when I snapped you or I changed my mind?! or-”
“Sweetheart,” Kyojuro murmurs, a husky, adoring title that halts you in your tracks, already missing the familiarity of his hand in yours, “I would never offer my sentiments flippantly.”
Your pulse stutters, head tilting with confusion. He watches you carefully, resisting the tender urge to cup your hands in his palms and press them to his chest. You swallow thickly, clearing your throat once. Twice. The corner of Kyojuro’s mouth twitches. You scowl, playful distraction scattering the haze in your vision as you huff.
“Oh nice Kyojuro,” arms crossing teasingly, “How kind of you to giggle at me after short circuiting my brain.”
“I am capable of such a feat?” he asks, smug grin informing you that his question is very hypothetical, “Do you remember your first impression of me?”
You nod slowly, gears struggling to shift at his unexpected tangent.
“I remember mine of you. Whenever I get to see you, I feel like I am simultaneously discovering something wonderfully new while also feeling a gentle sense of solace. You are the crackling embers I return to at the end of a weary, darkened day. And I love you.’
“Kyojuro… is the cafe really exhausting you that much?” you blurt, both concerned and stepsiding his explicit confession, “I can come and buy all of your baked goods or something. Whatever helps. So you don’t have to work as hard and worry about not selling enough stuff.”
Kyojuro laughs. A hearty, enraptured sound of devotion and exasperation. You narrowly avoid gasping when he swiftly grabs and covers your hands with his own, tugging them sweaty and nervous to his sternum. His eyes peer steadily into yours, your favorite color of sunset framed by unfairly long lashes, gleaming more fervently than you thought possible. You feel his breath as he raises your knuckles to his lips, kissing them lightly, smoothing the slightest tremor in your grip.
“They said I should tell you,” you admit, a rushed revelation as you melt in the fruition of your fantasy-becoming-reality.
“Oh?” his brow quirks, delighted in your acceptance of his touch, “Tell me what?”
“Mitsuri and Shinobu,” you squeak, “They said I should tell you that Iloveyou.”
“Tengen gave me a similar earful,” Kyojuro hums knowingly, “Although,” volume lowering as he rasps, “I did not catch your last word.”
You gulp, the extent of his affection and your flustered demeanor finally registering. Rengoku Kyojuro loves me you inhale deeply, allowing yourself to perceive the roughness of his callouses against the backs of your hands, jolting from your daze into the present tension as you notice the subtle doubt lingering in his pupils. And I…
“I love you.”
Your reciprocation is soft. Feathery. Grounded in the delicate caress of your fingertips stroking over his heart, matching the relieved exhale of fear from his shoulders.
“You love me!” Kyojuro beams, “I love you!”
With a happy squeal, you give into gravity, arms hugging tightly around him as he promptly lifts and spins you. We’re helpless you think, months of waiting and wanting obvious in how eagerly he holds you; in how resolutely he embraces you. Helplessly in love he thinks, the racing of your heartbeat almost audible; the shine in your eyes illuminating his heart on your sleeve.
“Your friend stopped by yesterday,” Kyojuro remarks. “[y/n]?” Mitsuri perks up, contriving glint in her stare. Uh oh Kyojuro freezes, recognizing his error too little too late. “Do you like them?” Mitsuri chirps—demands—excited now. “Pardon?” Kyojuro’s attempt at innocence is abysmal at best. “They aren’t my number one friend on Snapchat anymore… I think you might like each other!!!!!” “Huh…?” Even as his ears redden, turning swiftly to the espresso machine, feigning oblivion to the careful manner with which Mitsuri watches him. — Winter settles in, as does the yearning, Mitsuri’s prying at the forefront of his mind every time the bell on his cafe’s door jingles, your welcomed presence filling his lungs as he greets you. Again. And again.
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5:02PM Kyojuro: I love you.
5:08PM [y/n]: ???
5:08PM Kyojuro: I apologize.
5:09PM [y/n]: DON’T DO THAT 🤯😖😭
5:11PM Kyojuro: Do not love you, or do not apologize for loving you?
5:11PM [y/n]: bgriludhgou;sbjgs
5:11PM [y/n]: KYOJURO 🥴
5:12PM [y/n]: meet me 2mro? we can go for a walk
5:13PM [y/n]: hullooooo??
5:25PM Kyojuro: Alright. ❤️
5:26PM [y/n]: it’s a date 😉
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