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azrielhours · 2 months

Text

Tight Enough

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Synopsis: Reader needs help tightening her corset and no one's around to help but Azriel.

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“Shit,” you breathed, pulling at the laces awkwardly around your waist, trying and failing to tighten your corset. You shifted them around your shoulders, hoping it’d provide sufficient pulleying. You bowed forward, yanking.

Still not enough.

You huffed. You’d been at this for upwards of twenty minutes, hauling and tugging in all kinds of positions til your hands shook.

For all the gentlemanliness and compassion in Rhys and Cassian, you entirely refused to ask mated men to assist you.

Tying the laces onto the doorknob, you tried letting your body fall in the opposite direction. Your feet slid against the tile as you pivoted, nearly tripping. “Shit.”

This was so fucked.

A gentle knock on the door startled you. “Y/N?”

Azriel.

Fuck.

You scrambled to untie the laces from the doorknob. “Yes?”

“Cass and Rhys stepped out for a bit. Are you alright?”

Fuck.

You scrubbed at your face. This was the outcome you’d been avoiding above all. Worse than the mated men. Mated my ass. You should’ve bit your tongue and asked Cass for help.

“Y/N?” he asked again at your silence.

“Sorry,” you breathed, heart racing.

You cracked open the bathroom door, peering up at him. He searched your eyes patiently as you searched for your courage. “I can’t get my corset on,” you admitted quietly.

A muscle ticked in his jaw, eyes marginally widening.

You shook your head. “It’s fine,” you said quickly, voice tight. “I’ll just—I’ll try—”

“I can help,” he offered softly.

You looked up at him again, eyes pleading. Turn him down. “I—” you swallowed. Turn him down. A glance at the wall behind him with a clock revealed you were even later than you thought. Turn him down. You bit your lip and steeled your spine. Fuck. You were really doing this. “Okay,” you whispered, like you could hide the admission from even yourself.

He gave a slight nod of encouragement, stepping aside to let you come out.

“I—let me—one second,” you stammered, closing the door.

You were still undressed.

Right.

Another huff of indignation as you yanked on a slip to cover your bare legs. This was fine, right? It was just help he was offering. Necessary help.

You took a steadying breath and walked out of the bathroom.

Azriel had moved to stand near the fireplace, watching it with his back to you, like it would offer you privacy. He could surely see your panicked mortification.

You padded to him, placing a hand softly on his elbow to let him know you were ready.

He turned, face carefully neutral as he took in the sight of you.

Where corsets were typically worn over shifts, this one was fashioned to sit directly upon your skin. So you stood before Azriel, flushed cheeks and fidgeting fingers in just your corset and a skirt.

Azriel focused his gaze strictly on your face, didn’t dare let it fall to where the flesh of your breasts generously spilled over the delicate lace trim adorning the hem. Didn’t allow a glance at the thin shift mercifully—barely—covering your legs.

He’d never seen you so undressed.

You shifted your weight between feet beneath his hefty gaze. “Usually, Nuala or Ceridwen or Mor help me,” your voice was still tight. “I’ve never had to do it by myself.”

Azriel nodded. Your skin had a slight sheen to it in the light of the fire. A few pieces of hair had fallen out of your intricate upswept style, curling at the nape of your neck. Azriel might have bitten back a laugh at the endearing sight, at the physical evidence of your struggle—had you not struck him dumb with how beautiful you looked.

How you allowed him to bear witness to your exposed skin, to this intimacy.

He was no stranger to corsets—hell, he’d taken women wearing lingerie that made your attire look like a priestess’s robe, and yet—

He shook his head. This was just help. No matter how lovely you were.

He cleared his throat. He needed you to turn. “Would you—” He twisted a finger in the air, unsure how to ask.

“Oh,” you breathed, still donning that pretty blush on your cheeks. You took another step toward him, turning at last.

With the absence of your imploring gaze—one he’d scarcely forget—Azriel exhaled, allowed himself an assessing glimpse down your form presented before him. He bit back a curse. The laces across the length of the corset were haphazardly pulled. He wondered how Rhys overlooked something like this that clearly required assistance. The spaces between the undone laces revealed your bare back, curving all the way down to the slip resting on your backside.

He didn’t know how to begin touching you.

“Az?” you asked, voice still thin, your nervousness anything but subtle. But you’d been comfortable enough to ask him for help, and that made his heart soar.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat again. Raised his hands hesitantly; a silent deep breath, and he began.

He carefully pulled at the laces starting from the top of your corset, loosening them to correctly adjust their security. Azriel keenly tried his best to pick up each lace without touching your skin. Tried not to consider how creamy it felt when he did graze skin, how warm and perfect. When he’d finished working his way down, he began tugging at the string to tighten it properly.

At the first firm tug, you gasped, stumbling backwards into him. “Oh,” you stepped away hastily. You’d landed directly onto his abdomen, trapping his hands between your bodies. Your own hands had landed on his thighs, bracing yourself. “I’m sorry, Azriel.”

“It’s alright.” Azriel tried not to think about how your softness felt. “It’s my fault.” He couldn’t recall the last time he’d helped a female with her corset.

You looked at him over your shoulder, doing funny things to his heart again with your eyes. “We need a bedpost.” There was sheepish mirth lighting your eyes, displacing the anxiety from before. He managed a reassuring smile back and nodded.

You walked to Cassian’s bed in the inn room you were sharing, gripping the post for stability. Azriel dutifully returned to your back, and you tried not to think about how the warmth from his body radiated so easily into yours from your proximity. How careful he was being with his hands, doing everything to make you more comfortable.

He yanked gently in warning. When you remained sturdily in your spot, his pulling grew stronger, working his way down. When he neared the base of your spine, he began tying the lace. Your hands moved to your waist, feeling snug but not quite as tight-laced as you’d wanted.

You turned to peer at him over your shoulder again. He met your eye in question. “Um, I was hoping to wear it a little tighter,” you admitted.

“Tighter than this?” His brows rose.

You nodded.

He undid the knot, pulling the laces tighter as per your request, waiting for approval.

Once again, you caressed your waist, pushing the corset to feel its give.

“Is it tight enough?” he asked, voice gravely.

“Can I have one more inch?” you asked, and he internally composed himself.

“I don’t know if it would work,” he said.

“Here,” you released your waist, reaching behind, wiggling your fingers for his hands. Azriel extended his hands to hover on either side of your waist, allowing you to guide them on your waist. You pushed onto his hands, making him squeeze your waist. “Can you hold it there?” you asked.

Azriel swallowed, holding your waist tightly, pressing the corset tighter to your body as you reached behind, pulling the untied lace. He tracked your every move, every careful twist of your fingers, how your arms brushed against his hands. Your hands worked dangerously close to his body as you worked to secure the ties at last.

When you finished, he regretfully released you, allowing you to turn, standing between him and the bedpost. He braced himself for the onslaught of your stare, the way he knew you’d look up at him.

Where there’d previously been jittery nervousness, there was something in your eyes now that set his nervousness off. A sense of open depth that swallowed him whole as you took him in. “Thank you,” you breathed. A small smile tugged your lips up.

He wanted to admit something stupidly vulnerable, like thank you for trusting me. So instead, he took a step back, ducked his head, and said, “You’re welcome.”

That pretty, trustful look returned to your eyes, a look he’d do anything to keep others from seeing. “Maybe you can help me zip up my dress too?” Your playful glint had him smiling back.

“Of course.”

You hurried to the bathroom and rustled for a bit before returning to him with the top half of a floor-length, black evening gown hanging off your torso. You stood before him, more confidently than before, and Azriel took his time zipping it up, tucking away the corset. Tucking away the knowledge, the memory of it. It was all his to cherish.

As you put your heels on, a knock sounded on the door. Azriel opened it to find Rhys and Cassian conveniently ready to go, all smug smirks.

“Sorry for making us late,” you said, rushing up behind Azriel. “I had a hard time getting dressed.” Azriel stepped aside, allowing you to exit, taking Cassian’s arm.

Rhys mockingly tsked. “Sorry to hear that. How’d you manage?”

“Azriel helped,” you said over your shoulder.

“Well, thank goodness for Azriel,” Rhys winked at him.

Azriel stood stunned, staring in disbelief at Rhys until you looked back at him blushing, a shy smile knocking the breath from his lungs.

“Yes. Thank goodness for Azriel.”

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#azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel/reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel spymaster #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azrielhours #azriel fluff

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genshinluvr · 1 year

Text

The Fallen Star

Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a void and see someone towering over you. He's breathtaking and covers the sun and sky. One minute you are talking to him, but then you gain consciousness. You wake up to a silver-haired man giving you (failed) CPR, only to find yourself on the Xianzhou Luofu with four other people who soon later become your (temporary?) traveling companions.

Note: Welcome to my first Honkai Star Rail fanfiction! This work is part of a brand new series called "Brightest Star in the Universe." Yes, it's Isekai like the Genshin fics. This is going to be cross-posted on AO3 as well (like all of my fics). To be honest, I didn't think I was going to be posting a Honkai Star Rail series so soon, but here I am. Since there are unreleased characters in this series (Luocha and Blade), their personalities are going to be a bit out of character. Then again, most HSR men's personalities are going to be out of character for a bit until I'm familiar with all of them. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Mentions of blood, but it's not bad

Word Count: 8.6k

The last thing you remembered before you woke up was a tall man towering over you, blocking the sun and sky from your view. He had silver-white hair and tanned skin, and his arms were in pieces, gold bleeding through the cracks over his body. He was beautiful, but his beauty intimidated you. The way he gazed at you, his eyebrows furrowed.

You felt yourself tremble beneath his gaze. Who was this man, and why was he bigger than the sun and sky? “Where am I? Who are you?” You whispered, your voice trembling with fear and confusion.

The world around you rumbled, making you wince and look around in panic. It took you a moment to realize that the huge man before you was chuckling. The man gazed at you with amusement before squatting down before you without taking his eyes off of you. Wait, does he even have legs?

“My name is not important, little one,” he replies. “You and I will meet again soon, but for now, it’s time for you to wake up from your slumber.”

You looked at him quizzically before scanning your surroundings. There was no one else but you and him. You and this man were in a vortex of some sort. The light is blocked out by his figure. You pinched yourself and winced in pain. What does he mean by ‘wake up from your slumber?’ Were you not awake the entire time?

You look at the man, only to see that he is still staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “What do you mean by that?” You whispered.

The silence in the void is deafening. Even if you whispered, your voice echoed in the abyss. You shifted in your spot before getting up from the ground. You dust your clothes off and gaze at the ginormous man before you, waiting for him to answer. The world around you slowly turns black, and the man nods at you before your vision turns black.

Just as you’re gaining consciousness, you hear voices around you. The voices are muffled, almost as if you’re underwater, and the voices of the people are above you and all over the place. Your ears are ringing, and your limbs feel like lead. You want to open your eyes, but your eyelids feel heavy.

“Are you sure they’re alive?” You hear a girl ask.

You hear a slow sigh coming from your left. “Of course, they’re alive, March. Can’t you see the steady rise and fall of their chest?” the male to your left asks.

“If they’re alive, then why are they not waking up? Aside from being unconscious, of course,” says March.

You feel someone tap your cheeks repeatedly. You groan and try to swat the hands away from your face, only for your hands to fall back to the ground. The girl named March lets out a loud gasp.

The man beside you lets out a sigh. “March, can you go find Mr. Yang? In the meantime, Caelus and I will stand guard and make sure this person is okay,” he says.

‘March’ makes a disgruntled noise before stomping away. Something beneath you shifts, and you open your eyes to see a silver-haired man leaning down, his lips puckering. You open your mouth to say something, but the man covers your mouth with his. You let out a combination of a squeak and a gasp. The silver-haired man backs up and looks down at you with wide eyes, his fringe covering a part of his eyes.

The silver-haired man blushes and clears his throat. “It’s good to see that you’re awake! Ahem… how are you feeling?” He asks.

You swallow the lump in your throat and slowly prop yourself up on your arms, rubbing the back of your neck. “I-I’m fine! Um… that’s an interesting way to wake someone up,” you said, giving the silver-haired man a sheepish smile.

“I was trying to give you CPR, but that didn’t turn out how I thought it was going to,” replies the silver-haired man, his cheeks flushing red. He looks over at the black-haired man with a glare. The man with black hair looks away, his lips pressed into a thin line while his shoulders are shaking. The silver-haired man narrows his eyes at the black-haired man before punching him in the shoulders lightly, causing the man to grunt and let out a cough. Was he laughing? You sit up and look around, dazed and confused about how you ended up on a ship. Wait, is it a ship? Where are you?

You clear your throat and rub your throbbing temples. How did you end up on a ship? Or wherever you are. Gosh, you’re so out of it that you’re having a hard time figuring out where you’re at. You close your eyes, feeling a wave of nausea hit you like a train. One minute you were in a void with an extremely tall man that bleeds gold, and now you’re somewhere with two men at your side. One man is trying to stifle his laughter, while the other is almost as red as tomatoes.

The red-faced silver-haired man clears his throat. “My name is Caelus, and the one that’s laughing beside us is Dan Heng,” Caelus says, nudging Dan Heng beside him with a small glare as if he’s telling Dan Heng to be quiet.

Dan Heng clears his throat before fixing his composure, crossing his arms over his chest. “How are you feeling? You were out cold when we found you on the Xianzhou Luofu,” says Dan Heng, staring at you emotionlessly.

“Other than a slight headache, I’m feeling okay. Confused, but okay nonetheless,” you reply.

The two men stand up while you remain on the floor. You continue to take in your surroundings, eyes focusing on the stars hanging above you and the two men on this…. ship. You’re on a flagship… in space… traveling to who knows where. You look at the men behind you, pointing at your surroundings.

You clear your throat. “So, I was unconscious on the Xianzhou Luofu? That’s how you two found me?” You ask, rubbing your eyes while remaining on the ground. “Huh. How did I end up here?”

Rapid footsteps approach you, Dan Heng, and Caelus. You look up to see a pink-haired girl running toward the three of you, with a brown-haired man following close behind. The pink-haired girl’s eyes light up when the two of you make eye contact. You get up from the ground, dusting off your clothes.

The girl and brown-haired man stop before you. “Oh, goodie! You’re awake this time! I was starting to get worried!” She says, propping her hands on her hips. “Mr. Yang, this is the unconscious person I was telling you about! Well, they’re not unconscious anymore, but we stumbled across them when we split up while trying to look for Kafka.”

The brown-haired man— or Mr. Yang— strokes his chin while analyzing you from head to toe. You’re definitely not from the Xianzhou Luofu, and you’re certainly not from Jarlio-VI.

The man hums before crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you know how you ended up here?” asks Mr. Yang.

You shake your head. “I don’t know how I ended up here. One minute, I was in a void with a man that towered over me, and now I somehow ended up on a ship.” You reply.

Now that you said it out loud, you wouldn’t believe yourself if you were someone else. Would these people believe you? The pink girl hums thoughtfully, tilting her head to the side while gazing at you curiously.

“I’m March 7th, by the way! But you can call me March! This man here is Welt Yang!” She gestures to the brown-haired man beside her. “I’m assuming those two have introduced themselves to you already?”

You nod. “They have! Apologies for not introducing myself earlier, but my name’s [Y/N].” You say, rubbing the back of your neck with a sheepish smile.

You look at your surroundings. While you’re on the Xianzhou Luofu, you’re not entirely sure where you, Dan Heng, Caelus, Mr. Yang (should you call him by his first name or by his last name?), and March are precisely on the ship. Looking at your surroundings, all you see are boxes— you’re assuming they’re cargo of some sort. The air is nice and chilly, causing goosebumps to appear on your arms.

“We have to meet with General Jing Yuan. There are some things we still need to discuss with him,” Mr. Yang says, pulling his phone out to look at the time.

March points at you. “What do we do with [Y/N]? Do we bring them along with us as well?” asks March, looking at Mr. Yang for answers.

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head, waving your hands in front of you. “Oh, no! You don’t have to bring me along with you guys! Plus, you mentioned meeting with a general…. That sounds important, and I don’t want to intrude. After all, I am an outsider and, uh, don’t fit in this situation,” you said.

The five of them were heading to meet with the General of the Xianzhou Luofu. Dan Heng, Caelus, and March ended up stumbling across your unconscious body on the Xianzhou Luofu in an area where there aren’t many people roaming around. You sort of threw them off while they were headed toward their destination. Surely you can’t just tag along with them now, can you?

March huffs and frowns at you. “Hey! You’re not the only one who’s an outsider! The four of us aren’t from the Xianzhou Luofu either!” March interjects, stepping toward you and linking her arm around yours. “Besides! I think you should tag along with us either way! We don’t want to leave you behind, especially when you’re not from the Xianzhou Luofu! You are now a Trailblazer like us!”

Mr. Yang sighs and pushes his glasses up. “Let’s go. We have no time to lose. [Y/N], we’ll talk about this after meeting with General Jing Yuan,” says Mr. Yang, looking in your direction.

You nod and follow after the group, setting off to the location where General Jing Yuan told them to meet.

Upon arriving at the destination, you have concluded that you like the Xianzhou Luofu! Not only is it beautiful and vast, with a nice view of the universe, but you find the citizens of the Xianzhou Luofu interesting, and you’re curious about everything, really.

Now that you think about it, the ship and the people you’re tagging along with feel familiar. You know what this place is; you know it! It’s on the tip of your tongue, but dealing with sudden scenery changes and the brain fog is throwing you off.

The grand doors open, and the five of you step into the room. You look around, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. Many people are walking in and out of the room, people gathering around in one spot while others are tending to their duties on the ship. Mr. Yang, March, Dan Heng, Caelus, and you approach the white-haired man sitting on a chair. He seems to be occupied with the game of chess. You can’t tell if his blond opponent looks frustrated or focused. His eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes focused on the chessboard before the two of them. Hearing footsteps approaching their direction, the blond boy and white-haired man look at your group.

The white-haired man stands up, looking at the blond boy and nodding. The blond boy gets up from his seat and walks off, looking at your group from the corner of his eyes as he passes the five of you.

“I hope the journey wasn’t too complicated. It’s good to see you all again,” says the white-haired man.

Mr. Yang nods. “General Jing Yuan, it’s nice to see you again. We’re here to discuss the matters you wanted to speak to us about regarding the situation….” Mr. Yang’s voice slowly becomes muffled as you continue to look at your surroundings.

There are holograms of the people, you assume, that work on the Xianzhou Luofu! Holograms! You have never seen a hologram before, and it looks so cool! What was this place called again? You recalled that they were supposed to meet up at the general’s office, but the location was changed. Was the office called the Seat of the Divine Foresight? Although, with the number of people going in and out of the room, it’s certainly not the general’s office. Where in the world are you exactly? Gosh, it’s like you have the name on the tip of your tongue, but it’s not coming out.

“Care to introduce me to your new friend?” General Jing Yuan’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

You blink and look up to see General Jing Yuan looking right at you. You freeze in your spot like a deer in headlights, blinking at the white-haired man owlishly. A soft smile appears on his face, a low rumbling coming from his chest. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by his presence. Such power and authority exude from the man standing before the five of you.

Your face heats up when more people look in your direction. You clear your throat and stand there awkwardly, not sure what to do. Sure, you could introduce yourself to General Jing Yuan, but you were hoping he didn’t notice a new face around the Xianzhou Luofu. You point at yourself dumbly, blinking cluelessly at the man approaching you. Oh gosh, he’s walking toward you.

General Jing Yuan nods. “Yes, I was talking to you. I’ve never seen you around the Xianzhou Luofu, nor have I seen you with Welt Yang and his traveling companions,” says General Jing Yuan, now standing in front of you.

Dear gosh, this man is standing right in front of you. He’s not a hologram. He’s flesh and blood. If you reach out right now, you would be touching him with your hands. You give General Jing Yuan a shy smile, face hotter than ever.

You raise your hand in an awkward wave before introducing yourself. “Hi! I, uh, my name’s [Y/N]! It’s a pleasure to meet you, General Jing Yuan!” You squeak.

General Jing Yuan lets out a hearty laugh. “It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N]. Please, just call me Jing Yuan. No need to call me General— General is merely a temporary title,” says Jing Yuan, giving you a cat-like smile.

Jing Yuan grabs your hand gently and raises your hand to his face before pressing a kiss on your knuckles without breaking eye contact. Dear gosh, it’s like this man wants your face to feel hotter than it already is.

“Since when is he a flirt?” You hear March mutter to Caelus, Dan Heng, and Mr. Yang.

Jing Yuan releases your hand while you stand there awkwardly while tucking your hair behind your ear. You give Jing Yuan a flustered smile before looking away after clearing your throat. Dan Heng sighs while Mr. Yang steps up, grabbing Jing Yuan’s attention. You take a step back and stand between Dan Heng and Caelus, refusing to look at them after feeling intense stares at your head.

“That was something,” Caelus comments, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dan Heng hums in agreement. “It really is, isn’t it? Who knew that the General of the Xianzhou Luofu has such a charm,” Dan Heng comments.

You clear your throat again. “Maybe it’s how people greet on the Xianzhou Luofu!” You say.

March scrunches her nose and shakes her head. “They don’t do that on the Xianzhou Luofu. We’ve visited a couple of times, but not once were we greeted like how the General greeted you, [Y/N],” March teases, giving you a cheeky smile.

While Mr. Yang and Jing Yuan are conversing with each other about the situation, Dang Heng, Caelus, and March would interject here and there while the two are speaking. As usual, since you’re not part of the conversation, you would space out and look at your surroundings. It’s tempting to wander off, but you stay where you’re standing and listen to their conversation.

The doors to the room fly open, and enter a man with long, blond hair and a brown-haired girl with pigtails. The girl looks mildly miffed, while the blond man looks pleased with himself as he follows the girl into the room with a giant casket behind him. You look at the casket in horror and look at Caelus, Dan Heng, and March. The trio did not seem to be phased by the fact that the blond man was carrying around a casket like it was a backpack.

The blond man notices you’re staring at him, and he smiles at you, keeping a firm grip on the casket behind him. “I see you notice the coffin behind me,” he comments.

You nod in response. “Yeah! It’s, uh, hard to overlook it,” you reply.

The brown-haired girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest with a deep frown on her face. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” asks the girl, looking in your direction.

You blink at her with surprise. “Ah, strange?” You squeak.

What was she talking about? The man carrying a large casket with him, or was there something else you’re missing? After all, she did enter the room with the blond man, looking visibly peeved.

The brown-haired girl drags out a sigh, propping her right hand on her hip. “For a foreign trader like himself to be carrying a casket around so casually,” she replies. “I didn’t think it was a casket until I asked him about it.”

The blond man clears his throat. “This coffin isn't mine, Sushang. I was merely entrusted to take the body back to the Xianzhou Luofu,” the man says casually. “My name’s Luocha. As Sushang said, I am a foreign trader. Currently, I was tasked to return this casket to the Xianzhou Luofu.” He gestures to the casket behind him.

You stare at the casket and then look at the blond man, who raises his eyebrows at you with an amused look. It seems like Luocha knows what you want to ask him. What is in the casket? More importantly, who is in the coffin, and why does he need to deliver it back to the Xianzhou Luofu?

Luocha crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s alright if you want to ask who’s in the coffin. I’ve had a few people ask me the same question while on my journey to the Xianzhou Luofu,” says Luocha, looking at Sushang from the corner of his eyes.

You give Luocha a sheepish smile and shake your head. “No, no! I wasn’t going to ask you that question! I was wondering how you can carry a coffin around for so long without getting tired of it. You would think there would be an easier way to transport a casket,” you say.

You did wonder who was in the coffin. I mean, like Luocha said, he has had a few people ask him who (or what) was in the large casket behind him. As much as you’re curious, you don’t think it would be appropriate to ask since it’s none of your business, and it would be rude to ask.

Sushang looks at you curiously, examining you from head to toe. “You don’t look like you’re from the Xianzhou Luofu. Are you Dan Heng’s newly added traveling companion?” asks Sushang.

You make an uncertain noise, giving Sushang and Luocha a ‘so-so’ gesture. “Kind of! I… I’m not sure if now is the right time to explain the situation,” you murmur, turning to look at your new traveling companions.

March, Dan Heng, and Caelus shrug their shoulders simultaneously. You sigh and turn to look at Luocha and Sushang with a fake smile. Now would be a good time to leave the Xianzhou Luofu, but even if you were to leave the ship, would they (your temporary traveling companions) be okay with you tagging along?

Sushang looks at you curiously. “Oh? Why do you seem uncertain about being their new traveling companions?” Sushang asks.

You press your lips into a thin line and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. Would this be a good time to tell them (Sushang, Luocha, and Jing Yuan) about your situation? Maybe they’ll know the answer to it! Hopefully, they know the answer! You go on to tell Sushang and Luocha your situation: how you wake up to Caelus giving you CPR, and you find yourself on the Xianzhou Luofu despite not being from the Xianzhou Luofu.

Sushang hums and strokes her chin, squinting her eyes at you while chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Do you have memory loss by any chance?” Sushang asks.

Your gaze falls to the ground after hearing her question. Now that you think about it, the last thing you remembered before waking up was being in the void with a man towering over you. He’s so huge that he covered the sun and sky! Should you mention that to them too? You don’t know the man’s name. He told you his name isn’t important, but you know that’s not the case.

“I guess? I don’t really know how I ended up here, really. The last thing I remembered before waking up was being in a void with this tall person, but then I gained consciousness, and here I am!” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

They all probably think you’re crazy after explaining to them the last thing you saw before waking up to Caelus giving you CPR. You weren’t lying about being in a void with an extremely tall person. Technically, he wasn’t tall— he was a giant. They all look at you like you have just grown a second head.

Mr. Yang walks over to the group and nods at you, Dan Heng, March, and Caelus. “Alright, General Jing Yuan has given me some information on what we need to do. So far, there aren’t many things to check on the Xianzhou Luofu, but we do have to stop by Jarlio-VI per Caelus’ request,” says Mr. Yang.

March looks at Mr. Yang quizzically. “Why stop by Jarlio-VI? We have already completed what we needed to do on Jarlio-VI,” says March, crossing her arms over her chest.

Caelus hands his phone over to March. March grabs Caelus’ phone and skims through the messages on Caelus’ phone. March sighs and nods, handing Caelus back his phone before propping her hands on her hips.

“Well, it looks like we’ll be seeing some familiar faces again!” March announces.

You look at the group cluelessly, rubbing your arm. Does that mean you’ll have to go to Jarlio-VI with the group as well? I mean, there’s nowhere else for you to go, really. The best option is to tag along with the people that found you unconscious.

March nudges you and gestures to follow her and the three men. “Let’s go! I’ll introduce you to Pom-Pom and Himeko! You’ll love them and the Astral Express!” March grins, grabbing your wrist and pulling you along.

The five of you wave to Sushang, Jing Yuan, and Luocha goodbye before walking out of the room. You didn’t know where they were leading you, but you assumed it was to an area where the four of them were dropped off before they found you unconscious on the ground of the Xianzhou Luofu.

Right when the five of you are about to reach your destination (or, that’s what you’re assuming because you’re not familiar with the Xianzhou Luofu, nor are you sure where they’re taking you), a figure swoops in out of nowhere and snatches you from March’s grasp.

Everyone stops in their tracks and turns to look at the person holding you hostage. Your back is pressing against the man’s chest, and you feel the man press his sword up against your neck. March, Caelus, and Mr. Yang glare at the man behind you while Dan Heng looks like he just witnessed someone massacre everyone in his village. You swallow your fear and slowly turn your head to see a man with long, dark hair and red eyes. His eyes are focusing on the people standing in front of the two of you.

“So this is the fallen star Kafka mentioned,” the man mutters, looking down at you.

You blink at the man behind you and look at the others cluelessly. “Who is this man, and what does he mean by that?” You ask.

The man behind you tightens his grip around you, his arm wrapping across your chest while continuing to press the sword against your neck. March glares at the man behind you and seethes with anger.

“Let them go, Blade! Don’t involve them in anything!” March shouts.

Dan Heng takes a step closer toward you and Blade, only for Blade to take a step back, bringing you with him. Blade glares at Dan Heng and the others, pressing the edge of the sword against your neck. You close your eyes and visibly wince when the blade nicked your neck, causing a trail of blood to slowly trickle down. Dan Heng and Caelus glare at Blade, getting ready to step forward, when Mr. Yang grabs onto both of the men’s shoulders, shaking his head.

Blade smirks and chuckles. “I wouldn’t step any closer if I were you. If you want them to come out unscathed, then you will comply with my and Kafka’s orders,” said Blade.

You nudge the man behind you. “What do you mean when you mentioned fallen star? I’m not a fallen star,” you grumble, glaring at Blade from the corner of your eyes. “And for your information, I didn’t come out unscathed.” You gesture to your neck.

One minute you were in a void with an enormous man before you, then you woke up to Caelus giving you CPR on the Xianzhou Luofu, and now you’re being held hostage by a man named Blade on the Xianzhou Luofu. Can this get any worse?

Blade huffs and tightens his grip around you, not taking his eyes off the people standing before you and him. “Two hours before your arrival to the Xianzhou Luofu, Kafka reported a strange light flying across the galaxy. That light was presumed to be a fallen star, and the light led to the Xianzhou Luofu. In case none of you realized it, the fallen star is this one right here,” says Blade, gesturing to you.

You furrow your eyebrows after hearing Blade’s explanation. You have to be honest here; whatever Blade just said to you, Mr. Yang, Dan Heng, Caelus, and March, it sounds ridiculous. You? A fallen star? What does that even mean? You fell out from the sky and somehow ended up on the Xianzhou Luofu? Not only does it sound ridiculous, but it doesn’t seem probable because you didn’t have any markings on you aside from the cut on your neck from Blade’s sword.

You close your eyes and rest your head on Blade’s shoulders, catching him off guard. You turn your head slightly and peek at him. “And what do you and this Kafka person want from me exactly? You make it seem like I’m some rare gem from space, finally crashing and landing somewhere,” you comment.

Blade remains silent, staring down at you while you stare at him in return. It almost seems like he doesn’t have a plan for what to do with you. Other than holding you hostage in front of your (possibly) temporary traveling companions. You frown at Blade after a few minutes of him not responding to your question. You elbow Blade in the gut before pushing his arms off you with a huff, walking away from the man.

You and the others were surprised to see that Blade didn’t retaliate. He seems to be the type that gets set off easily. But since he didn’t slash at you or lash out at you for elbowing him in the stomach and pushing his arms off your person, it genuinely shocked the others. You rub and graze your fingers over the cut on your neck.

You narrow your eyes at Blade and walk over to where the others are standing. March runs up to you to assess the open wound on your neck. March sighs in relief, looking over at Blade with a glare before pulling you to the side while Caelus, Dan Heng, and Mr. Yang deal with Blade to the side.

You watch Blade, Dan Heng, Caelus, and Mr. Yang stand before each other, not saying a word. Their weapons are drawn out, but no one has started anything. They all stand there, staring at each other in silence, while March struggles to pull a bandaid out from her pocket. March hands you the bandaid after successfully grabbing the bandaid.

March turns to look at the four men with one hand on her hip while the other is on your shoulder. “Hey, are you guys just going to stand there and stare at each other all day, or are you guys going to fight it out?” demands March, glaring at the men.

Blade smirks and tightens his grip on his sword. “If that’s what you want, then a fight is what you shall receive,” says Blade.

Blade was about to lunge at the three men before him, but a woman with red wine-colored hair appeared out of nowhere, placing her hand on Blade’s shoulders. Blade stops in his tracks and looks over his shoulders at the woman.

She gives him a smile and chuckles, looking in your direction. “It’s good to see you, little shooting star. I apologize that you had to meet us this way, but our destinies are intertwined no matter where you go and how far we are from each other,” says the woman.

Everyone stares at the woman in silence. Everyone but you seem tensed at her mere presence. She takes her hand off Blade’s shoulders before walking toward your and March’s direction. Caelus and Dan Heng block her way, holding their weapons out in front of them while glaring at the woman.

The woman frowns and looks at Caelus with a pout. Almost like she was mocking him. “Oh, Caelus. Do you not trust me after all we’ve been through?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

March lets out a loud scoff. “Can you blame us for not trusting you after all that stuff you put us through, Kafka?!” March asks, glaring at the red wine-colored-haired woman.

‘Kafka?’ you mouthed to yourself, furrowing your eyebrows. The gorgeous woman is Kafka? Not only was she stunning, but the way she was looking at you was sending chills down your spine. There’s something about her you couldn’t put your fingers on. She seems powerful and the leader of this whole situation. Maybe the word ring-leader would suit her since Blade does follow her orders around like a dog.

Kafka turns around and starts walking away. “Come on, Bladie. It seems like we’ll have to find another time to meet [Y/N] again. For now, let’s part our ways,” says Kafka.

You freeze in your spot and look at Kafka with wide eyes. How in the world does she know your name when you haven’t introduced yourself to Blade and Kafka? Kafka looks over her shoulders and smiles at you before disappearing from everyone’s sight. Blade huffs and puts his sword away, turning around and following after Kafka.

March huffs. “Kafka and her dog are going to search for [Y/N] again. I don’t think it’s safe for them to be alone,” March states, looking at Mr. Yang, Dan Heng, and Caelus. “It’s best they remain on the Astral Express with us until further notice.”

You furrow your eyebrows and give March a questioning look. What does she mean by you remaining on the Astral Express until further notice? Until you find a home somewhere and can finally leave them alone? Where are you going to go? You’re on a ship that’s traversing through space, and now you’re going to be on a train that also travels through space.

“Let’s return to the Astral Express, and then we can talk about it after stopping by Jarlio-VI,” says Mr. Yang.

The five of you continued your way to the area where Dan Heng, Caelus, March, and Mr. Yang were dropped off. You’re kind of excited to step foot on the Astral Express and Jarlio-VI. Mainly Jarlio-VI because of how March described it, along with the stories she told you when she, Caelus, and Dan Heng visited the frozen planet due to the eternal freeze.

A frozen planet sounds interesting because not many things can survive and thrive in such conditions. It makes you wonder if there were any wild animals that roam Jarlio-VI aside from humans and creatures March, Dan Heng, and Caelus passively mentioned. Speaking of creatures the trio mentioned, you’re hoping you won’t have to deal with it or get caught in the crossfire.

Your stay on the Astral Express was short, and you met Pom-Pom and Himeko! They’re very welcoming, and Himeko is like an older sister, and perhaps a mother, figure to you despite you knowing her for less than a few hours. Despite your visitation of the Astral Express being short, you somehow managed to fall asleep while the train was headed to Jarlio-VI.

When you open your eyes, you find yourself in the void again. The very same void you were in before you woke up to Caelus giving you (failed) CPR. You look around, and there is the man towering over you.

You frown at the (gorgeous) man and rub your eyes. “It seems like the only time I’ll see you again is through my dreams, huh? I’m starting to think you’re not real and that you’re a figment of my imagination,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

The man chuckles and gazes at you with an amused look on his face. Damn, his smile is breathtaking, but it’s too bad he’s not real. Or at least that’s what you’re assuming. The man beckons you to come closer. You push yourself off the ground and walk toward him while scanning your surroundings.

You weren’t just in a void, but there were tiny stars sparkling around you and the massive man before you. The man holds his hand out, placing them before you. You stare at his hands questionably before stepping on his hand, letting him lift you to his eye level.

“We will meet very soon, little one. Now is not a good time to meet,” he says.

You frown at the man, letting out a huff before crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child. “No matter what you tell me, I’ll always assume you’re a figment of my imagination. At least tell me your name,” you murmur, looking at him from the corner of your eyes.

The man smiles at you and nods. “My name’s Nanook and I promise we will meet in person soon. For now, this is the only way I will be able to communicate with you--- through your dreams.” He caresses your hair with his index finger.

You stare at Nanook without saying a word, still not convinced that he’s real. Nanook sighs and gives you a small smile. From a distance, you hear someone call your name. You look away from Nanook and begin searching for the voice. Nanook sighs, putting you back on the ground and smiling at you almost sadly. You’re about to ask him what was wrong when the world around you slowly fades away.

“Wake up!”

Your eyelids snap open, and you sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. March sighs and collapses across from you while Caelus and Dan Heng stand to the side with unreadable expressions on their faces.

March huffs and narrows her eyes at you. “Finally! I’ve been trying to wake you up for the past ten minutes!” March says.

You blink at March and look at Dan Heng and Caelus, who nods in response. How long have you been asleep? March was trying to wake you up for ten minutes, but it didn’t feel that long. You were with Nanook in your dreams for what felt like three minutes or less. Were you asleep for that long?

“We’re arriving at Jarlio-VI very soon. Gepard and Sampo will be meeting us at the Administrative District,” says Dan Heng.

Caelus and Dan Heng walk off, leaving you and March alone on the couch. Caelus nudges Dan Heng, looking at you from over his shoulders and then at the black-haired man worriedly. Dan Heng chews on the inside of his cheek, leaning against the wall while waiting for the Astral Express to reach its destination.

“You heard that, right? [Y/N] mumbling Nanook’s name in their sleep,” says Caelus.

Dan Heng nods. Before Dan Heng can reply, the Astral Express comes to a complete stop, and Pom-Pom announces the Astral Express’s arrival to Jarlio-VI from where they were standing. You and March get up from the couch and stretch your arms and legs.

You rub the base of your neck and wince when you feel it strain. Great, now you have a crick in your neck from sleeping on the couch in the Astral Express for who knows how long. March loops her arms around yours, dragging you out of the Astral Express with Dan Heng and Caelus following behind.

March looks over her shoulders, shouting, “Come on, Mr. Yang! We don’t have all day!” March continues to pull you along to the Administrative District with a wide smile on her face while you’re trying your best to keep up with the hyperactive girl.

Himeko crosses her arms over her chest and taps on her chin. “You feel it too, right?” Himeko asks, looking over at the brown-haired man.

Mr. Yang raises his eyebrows at Himeko, waiting for her to clarify. Himeko chuckles, shaking her head, looking at the entrance of the Astral Express, where you, March, Dan Heng, and Caelus ran out. Technically, you were dragged out of the Astral Express by March.

“The sense of familiarity with [Y/N]. Almost like we know them despite never meeting them. This connection….” Himeko trails off, humming softly. Himeko chuckles and looks at Mr. Yang, gesturing for him to follow after you, March, Dan Heng, and Caelus.

Back to you and the trio, the three of you walk around the Administrative District searching for these Gepard and Sampo people. From what you have been told, Gepard is the little brother of Serval, and Sampo is some con artist the trio met in the underworld. You’re looking forward to meeting Gepard and Sampo! They sound like interesting people, especially Sampo.

“Fams! There you guys are!” You hear someone call from a distance.

The four of you turn in the direction of the voice to see an indigo-haired man and a blond man approaching your group. The indigo-haired man smiles widely and waves at the four of you. When you and the indigo-haired man make eye contact, his eyes seem to light up, and the smile on his face becomes wider before he sprints in your and the trio’s direction.

The green-eyed indigo-haired man and the blond man with blue eyes stop before your group, looking at you curiously. You can’t help but feel self-conscious under their gaze. Their clothes are interesting, but it looks nice on them. Wait, are you staring at them? You snap out of your thoughts and look away, trying to act like you weren’t staring at them.

“Caelus, March, Dan Heng, care to introduce us to your new traveling companion?” asks the blond man, staring you down with those blue eyes of his.

March smiles widely and nods before happily introducing you to the two men before you. You smile at them politely and wave at them. The two men introduce themselves to you not long after, and you are glad their names are easy to remember because you’re not the best at remembering the names of the people you have just met.

“Not to come off as rude or anything, but you don’t seem to be from here,” Sampo says, looking at you curiously.

Gepard looks at Sampo from the corner of his eyes before shaking his head. “Sorry if what he said came off as rude. Sampo has no manners,” Gepard mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

You laugh and wave your hand in front of you. “No, no, it’s fine! Sampo asked a genuine question, and I’m sure there are other people that are curious as well,” you say, giving Sampo and Gepard a small smile.

You and the others walk around the Administrative District while you tell Gepard and Sampo the situation. You woke up on the Xianzhou Luofu, unsure of how you ended up on the ship. Prior to gaining consciousness, you were in a void with Nanook. Of course, you didn’t tell Sampo and Gepard about you knowing Nanook’s name, only how he’s a tall figure that covered the sun and sky.

While you tell the two men your situation, Mr. Yang ends up catching up to your group, and the seven of you stop near the theater. Sampo and Gepard didn’t make a comment on your sudden appearance on the Xianzhou Luofu, but they have tried asking you a few questions.

“Everything is starting to feel familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.” You murmur, scanning your surroundings.

Belobog is beautiful and cold, but there’s something unnerving about it. On the other hand, the Xianzhou Luofu doesn’t feel eerie or ominous. The others look at you curiously, wondering what you mean when you say everything is starting to feel familiar.

Sampo, being the man that he is, slides in front of you and gives you a charming smile before flicking his bangs away from his eyes. “Pardon me saying this so suddenly, but I’m sensing you feel a connection between us?” asks Sampo, gesturing between you and him.

You blink at Sampo. “Yes,” you reply slowly. “I guess that’s a better way of putting it.”

Sampo looks at you with wide eyes, his cheeks tinting pink. Sampo clears his throat and tucks an invisible strand of hair behind his ears. “Oh? So you do feel that connection between us!” Sampo grins.

Your head is beginning to hurt, and there’s a low ringing in your ears that’s gradually getting louder and louder. You tried to act normal and playfully scoffed at Sampo’s comment before walking to the nearest bench near the theater. When you walk off with March at your side, Gepard looks at Sampo while Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, and Caelus trade glances at each other.

Gepard hums, furrowing his eyebrows. “So, you feel that too?” Gepard mutters.

Sampo does a double take and looks at Gepard with wide eyes. “What do you mean by ‘too’? I was talking to [Y/N], not you!” says Sampo, huffing.

Dan Heng, Caelus, Mr. Yang, and Gepard stare at Sampo with blank expressions. Sampo blinks at them and laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. Gepard sighs, trying to ignore the strange pull in his chest.

“You’re not the only one that feels that connection, you know?” Gepard hisses, glaring at Sampo.

Sampo’s eyes widen, and he holds his hands up in front of him, laughing. “Whoa, there, buddy. Listen, I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but I don’t feel a connection with you! I feel a connection with [Y/N], but certainly not you! Plus, why would I, Sampo Koski, be with someone that constantly tries to put me in jail?” Sampo asks.

Caelus snorts and rolls his eyes. “That’s not what Gepard is implying, Sampo,” Caelus comments, pressing his lips into a thin line to prevent himself from laughing in Sampo’s face.

Sampo looks at Caelus quizzically, then at Dan Heng. Dan Heng raises an eyebrow at Sampo, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dan Heng sighs before answering, “Gepard is implying that you’re not the only one that feels the connection with [Y/N]. Gepard feels the same connection with [Y/N] as well.”

Mr. Yang looks at Sampo and Gepard, surprised. He clears his throat to grab the four men’s attention before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Himeko mentioned the same thing before I caught up with the rest of you. Himeko says she feels a sense of familiarity when she saw [Y/N], although I don’t think she feels the same as the rest of us,” Mr. Yang explains.

Gepard’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “What do you mean by the rest of us? Do all of you feel the same way toward [Y/N]?” Gepard demands, chewing on his bottom lip.

Despite not getting a response from the four men in front of him, Gepard already knows the answer to his question. Every one of these men feels some kind of connection with you. Heck, even Himeko says she feels a sense of familiarity with you, according to Mr. Yang. A sense of familiarity is different from the tugging in their chests when they’re around you. The best way to describe it is a gravitational pull. It makes them want to be closer to you and be near you.

“Does anyone know they feel the same way?” Gepard asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. “I know they told Sampo they feel it as well, but what if they’re saying it to get Sampo off their back?” Gepard asks, propping one hand on his hip while stroking his chin.

The rest of the day went by in a blur to you. The last thing you remembered before losing consciousness was Himeko showing you where your temporary room is located on the Astral Express. Nanook communicated with you through your dreams twice, but this time, he didn’t make an appearance. You slept for a few hours, only to be woken up by someone knocking at the door.

You roll out of bed and stumble to the door, grabbing the doorknob and opening the door without a second thought. At first, you thought it was going to be March that was standing at the door, ready to show a photo book of her, Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, and Caelus trailblazing, but instead, it was Jing Yuan, Blade, and Luocha that’s standing at the door.

Just when you were feeling groggy, you’re now alert and surprised. You stare at the trio with wide eyes and peek over their shoulders. Why are they at the Astral Express? Shouldn’t they be at the Xianzhou Luofu? And as for Blade, you’re not entirely sure why he’s with Jing Yuan and Luocha at the Astral Express.

You give the three men a fake smile. “Jing Yuan, Luocha, and Blade! What a surprise! If you don’t mind me asking, what are you three doing here?” You ask, running your hands through your bedhead.

Jing Yuan chuckles. “It’s good to see you too, [Y/N]. We came to check up on you to see if you were okay. Caelus informed us that you weren’t feeling well when you were on Jarlio-VI,” says Jing Yuan.

You stare at Jing Yuan like a fish out of water. “Oh! I’m fine, really! I didn’t think you would stop by to check up on me after hearing what happened,” you say, clearing your throat.

Luocha smiles and pats your head. “We were worried about your well-being! Of course, we would stop by to see if you’re okay! Are we not allowed to do that?” Luocha asks, batting his eyelashes at you.

You feel yourself becoming flustered under their gaze, and you look away, rubbing the back of your neck. Then you realize that Blade is also standing there, behind Luocha and Jing Yuan, staring at you menacingly. Well, he was just staring at you like a normal person, but the look was menacing to you.

You point an accusing finger at Blade. “Why are you here? Didn’t you go somewhere with Kafka after our encounter at the Xianzhou Loufu?!” You demand, taking a step back.

Blade blinks at you. “What do you mean? Am I not allowed to check up on you?” Blade asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You snort and lean against the door, glaring at the long, dark-haired man behind Luocha and Jing Yuan. “That’s rich coming from someone that cut my neck the other day!” You say, pointing at the bandaid on your neck.

Jing Yuan and Luocha slowly turn to look at Blade. Their demeanors shift suddenly, and the temperature in the area seems to drop. Blade frowns and ignores the glares Luocha, and Jing Yuan are giving him.

Blade sighs. “I didn’t mean to cut your neck, alright? I didn’t think the edge of the sword would be that sharp,” Blade mutters.

You grumble and shift on one foot, looking at the ground. “Yeah, well, I’m doing fine now. I appreciate you three checking up on me, really. Even though you all didn’t need to do that.” you say.

Jing Yuan chuckles. “Well, when it comes to you, we’re willing to drop everything we’re doing to make sure you’re safe,” says Jing Yuan, giving you a closed-eye smile.

“Now that we have checked up on you, I think we should leave you alone to rest now,” Luocha says, smiling at you.

You give Luocha a smile in return and bid the three men goodbye before closing the door. You walk to your bed and collapse on it, closing your eyes. When you open your eyes, you’re back in the void, standing before Nanook. Nanook lets you stand on his hand and lifts you to his eyes, caressing your cheek with his index finger.

“My beautiful, shining star. We will meet soon,” Nanook murmurs.

You place your hands over Nanook’s finger, leaning into his touch. “What do you mean by shining star? Blade and Kafka called me a fallen star. Is there a correlation between the two?” you ask.

“That, I cannot tell you, my shining star. You will know soon enough,” replies Nanook.

The void around you fades away, and you wake up to see people surrounding you. You blink at them and sit up, but Dan Heng pushes you back down on the bed. You look at Dan Heng and the others with a questioning look. Your moment with Nanook was cut so suddenly. Did something happen?

You rub your eyes. “What happened? Why is everyone in my room?” You ask.

Himeko sighs in relief, smiling at you. “We’re just glad you’re okay, that’s all,” says Himeko

You stare at Himeko and the others quizzically. “Then, does that mean I can continue my sleep?” You ask.

March’s eyes widen, and she looks at the others with panic. “Uh, yes! But you’ve been sleeping so much today! Do you want to walk around the Astral Express with us? You know, for fresh air and maybe get something to eat after?” March asks.

You shrug, rolling off the bed and stretching your arms in the air. “Yeah, sure, why not? I don’t think I had anything to eat today, so I might as well walk around the Astral Express and get something to eat after.”

March grins and grabs you by your wrist before pulling you out of your room with the others following behind. You’re not sure if you want to know what happened before you woke up, but everyone in the room looks… shaken up, if that’s the right way to describe it.

Note: Not gonna lie, I kind of like how this fic turned out. The starting "chapter" of the new series is completely different from how I started the Genshin Impact Isekai fic. I have way too many ideas for Honkai Star Rail, and I'm excited to post more for Honkai Star Rail along with the Genshin fics. I might make a more organized masterlist for all of my fics, but I'm not sure when I'll do that 🤔 To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

#Honkai Star Rail x reader #Honkai Star Rail imagine #Honkai Star rail fanfiction #Honkai Star Rail fanfic #HSR x reader #HSR imagine #HSR fanfiction #HSR fanfic #Dan Heng x reader #Gepard Landau x reader #Sampo Koski x reader #Welt Yang x reader #Blade x reader #Jing Yuan x reader #Luocha x reader #Caelus x reader #Nanook x reader #genshinluvr

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some-bunniii · 2 months

Text

My Charming Red Savior [4]

・❥ A friend revealed, and warm feelings.

x: pronouns are she/her. no use of y/n.

xx: decided to change the saving fem!reader to its AO3 title, so all parts of this fic have been updated for this change as well!

~6.8k words

warnings: depictions of blood/injury

“Did I miss anything?”

Those were the first words the King of Hell had spoken atop the large patio, as you stood in awe, battered, with dust and debris sticking to your body. You blinked, frozen in place as your eyes scanned over the pearlescent man’s figure, who grinned charmingly across from you.

He leaned lazily against the gold railing, now partially destroyed from the small explosions that had peppered the front of the hotel. The screams and snarls from below were all but silenced now, except for one or two stragglers who could be seen making a run for it in the distance. But, not before a large, swamp-green tentacle snaked around them, and began beating them into the ground. It wasn’t long before your gaze was back on Lucifer, a million thoughts racing through your head.

It wasn’t until Lucifer’s smile faltered slightly at your silent staring, did he clear his throat, nervously tapping against the apple-tipped cane in his grip. “You look a little shaken up, are you doing good over there?”

You were about to open your mouth to speak, until your eyes darted to another small, cylindrical object flying right towards Lucifer. You recoiled, throwing your hands in front of your face as it closed in on the fallen angel.

“Watch out!” You cried to him, squeezing your eyes shut as you waited for the familiar boom of the grenade to shake the patio. Lucifer whipped his head around, eyebrows raised as the grenade soared towards him. Lifting his arm, he caught it in his hand before it could hit him in the face, before raising it to get a closer look.

You splayed your fingers, peeking through the small gap when you realized once more that your heart was still beating. Raising an eyebrow, your face contorted into surprise as your gaze rested on the object in Lucifer’s hand.

The bomb ticked quietly in his palm, slowly increasing in speed as the seconds went by. It vibrated in his grip, and Lucifer only inspected it casually, rolling it between his fingers with interest.

Was he just going to hold it until it exploded? You watched silently with wide eyes, unsure of what exactly was going to happen. If it went off, would the King of Hell even have a scratch on him? Maybe, that was why he seemed so confident holding a bomb in his hands. Watching Lucifer catch it casually in the air a few times only cemented that thought.

The perks of being immortal, you supposed.

“Hm, seems they got the timing off on this one,” Lucifer observed, just as the ticking seemed to increase to every millisecond. Right when you were sure it was about to go off in his palms, Lucifer’s fingers curled around it. It looked like he was squeezing the cylinder like a balloon, as the black, metal surface contorted, shifting from the pressure.

Instead of lighting into a ball of flame, the bomb exploded in a burst of multi-colored confetti. Which sprayed across the patio, a few stray pieces landing on your face as they settled onto the floor. You were silent, in awe at the magical display. Lucifer only grinned at you, a silent boast of his powers as he caught you gawking. He adjusted his collar, still leaning against the railing as he brushed some confetti from his shoulder pads.

Realizing he had noticed your staring, your cheeks began to heat in embarrassment. You lay your eyes for the first time on the most powerful man in Hell and all you can do is stand there and look dumb, get it together! Leaning forward, your head practically hits the cracked tile flooring as you bow.

“Your Majesty, I apologize for my rudeness!” You quickly pipe up, your eyes still locked to the floor as you keep your head down, “Thank you for saving my life, I don’t know if I’d be alive without your intervention.”

“It was no biggie.” Lucifer shrugged, waving his hand in the air in a sweeping motion, as he brushed off your compliment. He lifted himself from the railing, taking a few steps forward as he began to cross the patio. “Can’t have my daughter’s friends be attacked by a couple of low-life thugs.. again! What kind of a father would that make me?”

You straightened, lifting your head to meet his gaze. Your brows furrowed as the words left his lips, mouth opening slightly as if you were about to question him on his statement.

‘Daughter’. Was he talking about Charlie? Of course, he must be, she looked like a carbon copy of him! But, that would mean… it wasn't an imp that had approached you yesterday morning during your shift. At least, not any normal imp. Does that mean you had been talking to…?

It was in the same instance that Lucifer leaned in closer to you, his eyes squinted in thought as he inspected your face. He placed a finger on his chin in thought, as he regarded you with a curious expression through those soft, yellow eyes of his.

“Wait a second… do I know you from somewhere?” He questioned finally, raising an eyebrow in anticipation. You smiled as you thought of a response, your hands rubbing together in a soothing motion. Lucifer’s eyes lit up in recognition before you could say anything, and he snapped his finger as connected the dots.

“That's right! You were that sweet worker at the formalwear store yesterday, weren’t you? The one that opened early for me!” He beamed, taking another step closer as your eyes widened at the proximity.

“Y-yes, that was me, Your Majesty.” You stammered out, cursing yourself so being so godamn nervous. “Except, I wasn’t really aware that you were... well, you?”

“Oh, heh, yeah, my impish disguise. Pretty good, eh?”

Yeah, it was. There wasn’t anything that would have made you guess that imp was actually Lucifer, at least before you had met the man. Except, for the height. That hadn’t seemed to change between the two appearances, as you still had to lower your head to meet his gaze even now.

You took a deep breath, calming your jittering nerves as you again realized who was standing right in front of you. Never once did you think a lowly citizen of Hell like you would be this close to the Lucifer Morningstar! Should you have kneeled instead when you greeted him? What was the proper etiquette for this kind of thing? Alastor would have surely known.

That thought made you lean over slightly to get a peek past the fallen angel’s brimmed hat. Your eyes followed the slender, shadowy forms of tentacles snaking around the last two criminals, who were trying to shoot the large masses.

“Aren’t you, um, going to go help..?” You pointed behind him, and Lucifer turned to follow your finger just as another thug was flung past the large fence that surrounded the hotel. Their squeal of fear faded as they disappeared from view. Static-laced laughter filled the air as the tentacles began to dissipate.

“Nah, I think your… friend down there has it covered.” Lucifer shrugged after a moment, turning back to face you.

You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to calm your jittering nerves. Between last night and this, you were about ready to lay in your bed and hibernate for the next three months. Life was exhausting, it seemed.

“Well, that was fun!” Lucifer smiled, nodding along as he clasped his hands together. “Didn’t think I’d find drug dealers trying to knock down the walls, though. Looks like I really have to up the security around here.”

You nodded along half-heartedly, and watched as he strolled past you towards the door. He only made it a few steps before he halted, and you jumped slightly as he pivoted to face you. He waggled a finger at you, mock suspicion in his gaze as he leaned in. Now that you could get a better look at him,

“I also was not expecting to find you here, either. Only yesterday, it seemed like you had no idea the hotel even existed. Now, I find you in the raging path of a feral tea table. An odd turn of events, don't you think?”

You smiled, heat creeping onto your cheeks in embarrassment. You probably looked pretty pathetic when Lucifer was saving you, curled in a ball while you accepted your grim fate. You wished you had some kind of badass demon magic, so you didn’t have to be so helpless. Did Alastor ever feel helpless? No, probably not, he seemed so confident in every situation you saw him face.

The way he strolled down the stairs so casually when the thugs had first attacked, made it seem like he had done that kind of thing many times before. But, it seemed like that was true, since you patched up one scuffle on his coat, and were told of his encounter with Sir. Pentious–which you simply couldn't believe would attempt such a thing, now that you’ve met him–a few months prior.

You wondered what made him and Lucifer struggle to get along, had something happened in the past between them? Maybe, you could get Alastor to budge with that with a little prodding. For now, you were unsure of what to tell the King. How would he react if you said the only reason you were here was because of Alastor? You didn’t want to lose the friendliness you had with Lucifer, it probably wouldn't be fun to be on the King of Hell’s bad side.

Plus, it seemed like Lucifer liked you. Did that have something to do with the fact that he claimed you were a ‘rare gem’ when it came to being a nice person in Hell? He did give you all that money.. which you lost. Maybe, he’d give you some more if you played your cards right.

And, if it was as friends, you wouldn’t mind getting closer to the fallen angel. He was just so funny and charming, you couldn’t imagine the kind of gossip he had to share, and you wouldn't be bothered if he shared it with you.

“Oh, well, beeeecause I was interested in redemption! Ha-ha, yeah. When we talked earlier, your words just struck something in me! So, I took a tour and stayed the night.”

“Really? I inspired you to come to the hotel?” Lucifer asked incredulously, tilting his head thoughtfully at you. He raised an eyebrow, doubt written across his features.

“That’s right! I mean, you even gave me a bunch of money like it was no big deal. That was very kind of you!” You nodded enthusiastically. That wasn’t exactly a lie, since the conversation with Lucifer yesterday did lead to Alastor revealing more about the hotel, which in turn piqued your interest enough to even consider staying for an extended period.

Slowly, Lucifer's eyes lit at your response, a gleam of happiness that you hadn’t noticed before. He seemed to be standing a little straighter too, as if that was some kind of confidence boost for him. Did Lucifer not… genuinely help people often? Was it something he wished he could do more often?

Seems like ruling a realm full of demons that continually commit the worst atrocities known to mankind would break an angel’s will to want to make a change.

“I wanted to thank you again for your generosity,” you started, your tone genuine as the glint in Lucifer’s eyes only seemed to grow, “All that money you gave me would have really helped,

“Would? What happened?” Lucifer inquired, tilting his head curiously.

“Some guy mugged me,” you stated bluntly, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. It felt weird telling people about your most vulnerable moments. You found no enjoyment in retelling any of these scary events, and hopefully, your bad luck would end soon.

“And they stole everything from you?”

“Yeah…”

Lucifer huffed in annoyance, his teeth baring slightly as he exhaled a hot breath. He couldn’t exactly be surprised, it was Hell. Not to mention, the guy has been neglecting his kingly duties for a while now and has only just started going to meetings for crying out loud.

“Jeez, I’m sorry about that. Here, let me jus–”

“Where did that new girl go? What do you mean you haven’t seen her?” You could hear Vaggie’s voice from downstairs, as the gaping hole in the side of the hotel made it much easier to hear their conversations now.

You heard multiple inaudible responses to the question, before Vaggie’s rose above them with renewed anger.

“She’s still up there?! you’re telling me none of you numbskulls went to get her after that big explosion?”

“₩Ⱨ₳₮?!” You heard a snarl of static at Vaggie’s words.

Tensing, you kept your eyes trained on Lucifer as you strained your ears to eavesdrop on the voices below. It seemed like they were looking for you now, did they even know whether Charlie’s dad was here?

“Alastor, hold up!” You heard Angel Dust’s call from the bottom of the staircase, which made you pivot to face the closed doors not too far away. Lucifer, who was standing a few steps away from you, looked up curiously as the doors swung open.

Standing there, chest heaving slightly, ears twitching, was Alastor. His eyes instantly landed on you, before quickly scanning over your figure for injuries. Did he just leap up all those stairs? That wasn’t a very short distance by any means.

His arms were outstretched beside him, as he gripped both doors. Alastor’s claws slightly dug into its wood frame as he observed the smoking, half-burnt balcony with a tight-lipped smile. It wasn’t until his eyes met Lucifer’s–you swore you saw a flicker of surprise cross his gaze–that something seemed to flip like a switch inside the demon, and Alastor straightened instantly, his ears returning to their normal placement as corrected his posture.

A large, toothy grin appeared on his face, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze darted between you and Lucifer only a few feet apart. His eyelid twitched as Lucifer sent him a deadly grin behind you, the tension in the air thickening to the point where you felt like you’d suffocate even in this open space.

You only smiled brightly in return, sending Alastor a finger wave as you sidled a step away from the fallen angel beside you. Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to be having fun as he pivoted slightly to face you. A mischievous glint in his eye as he cocked his head at Alastor, a haughty look on his face.

“Can I help you?” He feigned irritation, an eyebrow quirked as he sent the demon a pointed glance. As if Alastor had just barged in on the two of you deep in discussion, souring the mood.

Alastor wasn’t able to get a word out when multiple footsteps echoed from behind him, noisily clopping up the long staircase as they bickered amongst themselves. A familiar pink spider popped his head over Alastor’s shoulder, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the pearlescent face beside you. More heads appeared around, their eyes scanning across the balcony as they observed the scene.

“Dad?” Charlie asked, squeezing through the clump of nosy demons, surprise written across her face as she passed Alastor.

“Honey!” Lucifer beamed, a smile gracing his features as he met his daughter halfway. Charlie extended her arms, ready to accept Lucifer’s large hug as he returned the gesture. He held her for a moment before he released her, backing up a step as the others pushed past Alastor’s figure to get a better place behind the princess.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at that art auction?” Charlie questioned, tilting her head at him.

“That ended last night.” Lucifer nodded, “Now it’s some kind of celebratory artist-only afterparty, which means even the King of Hell cannot attend, unfortunately. So, I thought I’d drop by. Good timing, it seemed, or else your friend here would not be standing here any longer.”

Lucifer turned to you, gesturing to the dust and debris hanging to your clothes, as you stood there silently with that same awkward smile.

“Oh, yeah. She’s interested in being a resident of our hotel, for redemption!” Charlie smiled excitedly, proud to be able to show her father that her dream was slowly expanding. You nodded along, your hands clasped together politely as they discussed you.

“Yes, I heard! We’ve been having a nice discussion these past few minutes, her and I. A real doll, this one is, just like when I met her previously.”

“You two... have met before?” Charlie finally asked, confusion laced in her voice as she looked between the two of you. The demons behind you shot curious glances in your direction, silently waiting for more juicy details.

“She was there when I bought your tuxedo! I was in disguise, though, so nobody saw me as.. well, me. She even opened up early for me, just out of the kindness of her soul!” Lucifer scooted beside you, nudging you in the arm playfully as he spoke. “Guess you could say I owed her a rescue after that considerate gesture.”

“Did you throw a party up here, too?” Vaggie piped up from the doorway, kicking away at a few stray pieces of the colorful confetti that was sprinkled across the floor. Charlie’s eyes were glinting as she processed her father’s words, before glancing down at the new red suit that she was wearing. She looked up at you with renewed interest, a blooming on her face.

“That was all His Majesty, actually,” you finally spoke, lifting a hand to your mouth as you giggled, “It was pretty impressive, to be honest, I’ve never seen a party trick like that before. I thought the confetti was kinda funny.”

You purposely avoided looking at Alastor as you spoke, so his reaction to your praise was a mystery. Lucifer only smiled proudly beside you, your words boosting his ego.

“Well, that’s not the only trick I’m good at,” Lucifer chuckled. Before he sent you a wink, then a playful smirk that he swept across the small crowd. Their eyes were locked on him, captivated with anticipation for the charming angel to display some of his magical talents.

Except, for Alastor, who only smiled widely, his eyes crinkled in annoyance at the theatrics. You didn’t pay him much mind, instead keeping your attention on Lucifer. During your time in Hell, you hadn’t come into contact with many figures that could harness demonic magic so effortlessly, apart from Alastor.

The King of Hell, however, was on a whole different level, he had pure angelic power. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and you were not going to miss this for anything. However, it seemed your admiration was a little too evident, as you missed Alastor's squinted gaze analyzing your expression.

Lucifer finally rested his gaze on Alastor, who met his eyes, just as he tapped his cane against the ground, a flurry of golden sparks igniting from the touch. a vortex of golden eaves began to swirl around his cane, before flooding across the destroyed, cracked floor of the balcony. It was like a small ocean pooling at your feet, and it felt like the ground was shifting underneath you.

Sticking a finger gun towards the split table, Lucifer shot an explosion of magic against its surface, and it crackled with energy. Before you could blink, the two pieces slid together, attaching like Lego pieces back onto their legs. Fresh color adorned the wood, a lovely shade of peach with matching chairs. It settled onto the ground, with not even a scratch from the abuse it had just received.

He aimed a few more magical-loaded digits towards the broken railing, and the spilled flower pots, making pew pew sound effects with his mouth as he did so.

The balcony began to shift back into even better condition than it originally was, the broken scenery straightening itself back into form. Slowly, the golden waves against your ankles dispersed and were pulled back into Lucifer’s cane.

The large, white marble tile beneath your feet was perfectly sealed, not a single crack upon its surface as it sparkled with a newfound shine. You lifted your leg, surprised finding your figure to be completely dry.

The demons around you stood mesmerized by the display, their eyes glowing and lips puckered in a small o. Alastor only tapped his claws against his cane impatiently.

“How is that for a party trick?” Lucifer turned to you, sending you a charming grin.

You were about to open your mouth before Charlie appeared at your side with a happy squeak. Her blonde hair cascaded down your shoulder, the silky strands like feathers against your skin.

“Thank you for the help, Dad!” Charlie beamed, squeezing her cheeks as she stared lovingly at her father, “it’s so great to see you make new friends, too!”

“And, new clients!” Lucifer boasted, adjusting his bowtie with a grin “Last time we talked, I told her all about the hotel and what it offered. Seems like my salesmanship charm prevails once more.”

“How funny,” Alastor’s voice crackled with static as he strode up beside Charlie, planting himself into the small group’s discussion with a grin, “but it appears His Majesty is mistaken, for it was I who persuaded our darling belle here to take a chance at redemption.”

“Pfft! You? Please, you couldn’t even convince an angel to redeem themselves. At least, not with that haircut!” Lucifer laughed, and your mouth dropped open, your gaze flicking to Alastor, who seemed to hesitate for a moment in shock at the bold insult.

Your eyes darted to Charlie. She returned the look, before slapping a hand over her dad’s mouth.

“Okay, moving on!” She replied cheerfully, pinching her dad’s lips closed as she turned towards the staircase. Vaggie shot a glare toward the rest of the onlookers, who began to sadly shrink away.

“I’m afraid Your Majesty is uninformed!” Alastor ignored Charlie, as he walked closer to stand right beside you. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your heartbeat quickening at the realization you were directly in the middle of the two dueling forces.

“Of what?” Lucifer questioned.

“Why, of our association, of course,” Alastor said sweetly, grasping your arm gently as he gestured to your figure. Heat crept onto your cheeks, as you let him slide in closer to you.

“You two know each other?” Lucifer asked, doubt laced in his face as he shot you a questioning stare. You only averted your gaze, unsure of how to respond to all of the prying eyes.

“Indeed! I’m sure you’re familiar with a charm like this?” Alastor smiled innocently, before gingerly holding out your hand, gesturing to your ring finger. That golden ring glinted in the sunlight, and the small rose-gold engraving of the letter A was on full display.

Lucifer’s eyes widened after a moment, and his gaze shot to you, then to Alastor, before landing back on the ring. He seemed to reel back slightly as it finally dawned on him, before his face settled into a look that silently grumbled ‘You gotta be kidding me.’

Charlie gasped, clutching her cheeks as she leaned in closer for a better look. The ecstatic look on her face was a complete inverse to her father, who only averted his gaze at the sight.

You stood with an awkward smile, heat creeping onto your cheeks as you sidled slightly away from Alastor. You did not expect him to be sprinting it back onto these guys, in front of Lucifer no less.

The King only turned to you, disbelief in his features as he sent you a pointed stare.

“You’re telling me you work at a formalwear store, and you picked a guy with this bad of a wardrobe?” He gestured subtly to Alastor’s suit, a grimace on his face as he eyed the demon’s style with contempt.

Alastor only adjusted his bow tie, throwing his hair back as he straightened. He shot you a pointed look too, prodding you with a ‘Are you really going to agree with him?’ stare.

You said nothing, so Alastor only turned to face Lucifer, clasping his hands with a large smile, “I’d take your fashion advice to heart, Your Majesty, but it seems your taste lies at the bottom of a bargain bin, so I must respectfully disagree.”

“Bargain bin?!” Lucifer gasped, a hand shooting up to his chest as he recoiled. A growl rose from the fallen angel’s throat as he opened his mouth to retort, only for Charlie to grab him from behind and pull him away from Alastor.

“I’ll pay you triple the amount from yesterday if you just take that ring off!” Lucifer begged as Charlie dragged him down the steps. “Do you fancy goat horns? I know of someone in the Wrath Ring that is available!”

The father-daughter duo disappeared from view, their voices muffled as you watched the doors slam shut with a crackle of green energy. Turning to face Alastor, you find a smug grin dancing on his lips. You frowned, did this guy really just insult the King of Hell like the man couldn’t stomp him in a moment?

“Your arrogance knows no bounds,” you chastise the demon, waggling your finger as you spoke, “speaking so comfortably with the King in such a condescending manner. He could smite you for that, you know.”

“Verbal sparring with the monarchy is a favorite pastime of mine, sweetheart! I’m sure our dear king enjoys it just as much as I.” Alastor shrugged, twisting the cane between his claws as he regarded you with playful eyes.

“You are such a pain in my—”

Your words died in your throat when the outline of a dark-red rose was thrust towards you, Alastor’s fingers gently curled around its stem as he held it up for view.

“For you.” He smiled, his lips curled in a soft grin.

“Me? But, where did you get this?”

“Some bumbling oaf down there was going to stomp on it, so I stomped him, instead,” Alastor shrugged, extending the rose closer to you as he spoke, “I thought it would be something you’d find interest in. It… reminded me of you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, gaze lowering towards the wine-colored flower. It was beautiful, even with its slightly jagged petals, and the much larger thorns that covered the black stem.

But, for Hell, it was such a relieving sight. To know that something that presented emotions could exist in such an apathetic, pessimistic environment like the realm around you. Honestly, it didn’t have that many similarities in comparison to Earth’s rose, but its mere resemblance made nostalgia pull at your heartstrings.

Old emotions began to boil inside you, and your throat tightened. Even after all the hardships, you still missed the trees and the smell of real, fresh air. The feeling of the sun against your skin, kissing you with a warmth that always stirred a smile onto your lips. Hearing the morning doves in the early spring morning, their gentle coos echoing through the thin veil of fog that settled onto the dew-filled grass.

Now, you were stuck here. A dark, dirty realm that gave you its fair share of grief too. A lot in the span of two days, even. But, the good in it, was seeing the genuine smile that greeted you every time Alastor drank in your presence. Like this morning, when you agreed to join him on the patio, and the way his ears seemed to stand even taller when you said yes.

It was also the fact that Alastor was so intent on presenting this lovely gift to you, that he killed someone just so the rose would survive the chaos, that made you feel so warm and giddy inside.

A smile bloomed across your face, and you gently wrapped your fingers around the stem, right above Alastor’s own. The top of your hand grazed against the softer texture of the rose’s petals, but its sharp thorns nicked at the skin on your fingertips, causing you to grimace slightly. You adjusted your grip slowly, the pain ebbing as you found a comfortable hold.

Your hand brushed Alastor’s as he released his grip, pulling his hand towards him, his gaze traveling to your arm lifting as you inspected the rose closer. All the memories of long, forgotten experiences made years prick at your eyes.

“I.. don’t know what to say. This is so sweet of you,” you replied softly, eyes still locked on the rose and you gently caressed its petals, “thank you, Alastor.”

Alastor watched the emotion flood across your face, and for the first time, he didn’t know what to say next. The look on your features made him feel.. strange.

As if, this was a reaction nobody in Hell has ever given him before, excluding Charlie. It was fear and anger that only ever greeted him. Which he preferred, it made him feel strong, made him feel powerful.

Your soft, sweet smile, however, was something Alastor could get used to. The way the dimples on your cheeks deepened slightly as your lips curled delicately. As if you too were a rose, your petals softly opening for the new day.

His gaze still rested on you as the tip of your nose inched closer to the petals, before you inhaled a deep breath.

It smelled surprisingly sweet, but also with a warm, earthy scent. A hint of smokiness underneath the layer of the sugared aroma. It reminded you of a wood-burning stove, or the smell of firewood that clung to your shirt after a night in the wilderness.

But, also… the faint metallic tang of blood.

Brows furrowing, you pull the flower away, your eyes traveling to the barely visible glistening substance coating part of the stem. It almost mirrored the color of the dark-red petals, and you lifted your gaze to Alastor.

When your eyes traveled up his figure, it was the small trails of red liquid that dripped from his fingertips that made you recoil, a hand to your mouth as you gasped.

“Alastor, you’re bleeding!” The worry in your voice was obvious as you stepped closer to him, trying to get a better look at the small gashes on his skin. He regarded it with indifference, as if it was just a simple bother. You frowned at his reaction, there was no way that didn’t hurt!

He was a sinner, just like you, and almost everyone in the hotel. Mortality was still present in his afterlife, including the sensation of pain. No matter how hard he tried to present himself as a powerful being like Lucifer, he was still just a man who felt the same things you did. If not, with a little different... perspective.

“It is nothing, do not fret about me, my doe,” Alastor brushed off your words, beginning to pull his hand away from your view. You saw a drop of blood leave the tip of his claw, falling onto the cracks below your feet, “they are just feeble scratches, nothing I, the Radio Demon can’t handl–”

Alastor’s words died in his throat, the last of his sentence coming out in pure static as his pupils dilated on your hand wrapping around his wrist. Your grip was firm, preventing him from shielding the wounds from you, as you tugged his hand closer.

This was the boldest move you had made since the two of you had first met. It was usually Alastor who made the first gesture, who took your hand and touched you softly. As if you were a fragile doll that could crack at the teeniest bit of pressure.

The man was so used to control, having complete say in who touched him—which was never, unless you count Angel Dust whenever he tried riling up the demon—and why. If you were some normal face in the crowd making such a move, he’d probably have torn them apart.

But oh, the warmth from your touch that greeted his cool skin had him yearning for more. That blissful feeling that seemed to bloom from inside his bones, that traveled like a river through his veins, filling him up with a strange, yet awfully familiar feeling.

Like, when his mother would sit him down at the table for dinner, a bowl of hot, steaming Jambalaya in her hands that she made just for him. Anytime she noticed he had a hard day, she’d cook his favorite meal.

As a child, he had eagerly scarfed it down, impatient to fill his stomach with such a treat. When he grew older, however, he learned to slow down and savor the explosion of flavors that tickled his taste buds in every bite.

He remembered the way the delicacy traveled down his throat, and how it felt like a fire was igniting in his belly. The warmth emanating from your skin reminded him so much of that.

And that smile that always graced your features at the sight of him? Alastor remembered that from somewhere too. His mother’s lips always curved into a soft, gentle grin that would make anyone butter up in their presence.

Your lips seemed to curve just the same, and the demon was sure if the two of you would have met before the afterlife. His mother would have loved to meet you.

Alastor remained deathly silent, his muscles tense as you splayed out his claws, turning his hand over to have his palm face up. There was dried blood across the smooth skin, which meant he had been bleeding for a while now.

How hard was Alastor holding the rose during the fight that he cut up his hand like this? If it wasn’t for the bickering between him and Lucifer, you surely would have noticed it earlier.

Your fingers gently brushed against the small cuts, blood still slowly seeping from beneath the demon’s skin. You nudged his wound softly, inspecting it with worry.

“Does that hurt?” You asked softly with furrowed brows.

“Does it matter?” Alastor scoffed, averting your expectant gaze.

“Yes! It does, actually!” You retorted, before your gaze moved to your outfit with a determined look. Quickly, you reached down, taking a fistful of fabric in your grasp before pulling it hard. With some friction, it began to tear away from the rest of your garment.

Now, you had a large piece of cloth in one hand, and Alastor’s wrist in the other. Reaching forward, you began to cover his cuts tightly against the fabric.

“Must you ruin such a pretty outfit for something so insignificant like my hand?” Alastor inquired, exasperation lacing his voice, “You’re treating it like some kind of battle wound, I am fine, my doe.”

He didn’t pull away from you, however, as you finished patching up his injury. Inspecting his hand closer, you eyed work for a moment, before you shook your head, dissatisfied.

“I forbid you from doing any activities for the rest of today until you address your wounds,” you declared, crossing your arms sternly.

“Forbid?” He inquired, quirking a brow in amusement.

“That’s right! If you don’t take care of your injury, or let me do it for you, then I’ll have no choice but to put my foot down.”

Alastor squinted at you for a moment, that grin masking his thoughts as he regarded you. Was he going to argue? Sweat beaded on your forehead as you anticipated his answer. It wasn’t like you could exactly stop the powerful demon from doing what he wanted, but you also couldn't just let him strain his wound further because of pride.

Alastor didn’t argue. Instead, he simply shrugged, a pleased smile gracing his features. He closed his eyes thoughtfully, before holding a limp hand towards you.

“Well, if you insist,” he hummed, cracking one eye open to watch you expectantly.

“Really..?” You asked in disbelief, regarding his hand with suspicion.

“If the lady wishes to fuss over my health, I suppose I could heed her demands,” Alastor responded casually, lifting his hand closer towards you, “and, how could I refuse such a generous offer?”

You smiled playfully before slowly wrapping your fingers around the makeshift gauze, trying to get a good grip around his cuts as you held his hand.

“Is there somewhere I could get medical aid inside? Baindaids, alcohol solution… ibuprofen?”

Did Ibuprofen even exist down here? There had to be something similar at least, the Pride Ring was full of mortals that could still feel pain. Was Alastor in a lot of pain? Even if he was, you probably wouldn't get a straight answer from him.

Now, you understood why Alastor and Lucifer didn’t like each other. They were just fighting for who was really the embodiment of pride.

“Hm..” Alastor tilted his head in thought, before his ears twitched, and a sly smile graced his lips, “I do believe I know just the place!”

Without a word, he returned your grip and pulled you closer to him. Your breath hitched, your chest almost bumping against Alastor’s as he took your other hand. The two of you looked as if you were about to start a waltz, as the demon looked out towards the railing, his chest still facing yours as his smile grew.

“Hang on tight, my dear!” He stated chipperly, and you fastened your grip hastily. The air began to crackle with energy, goosebumps rippling across your skin as static seemed to tickle at your figure. Green smoke pooled at your feet, and that familiar tingling sensation overtook you, just like the first time you were teleported.

Alastor only pulled you closer right as the smoke blasted up, cold air hitting your face as you were pulled into darkness. The presence of the hand against yours was faint, but at least you weren't alone this time. You kept your eyes squeezed shut, your heart racing as you waited to feel the floor against your feet once more. Then, you felt a thumb brush softly against your knuckles, it circled soothingly across your skin, and you relaxed slightly.

What felt like minutes really only took a couple of seconds, as you felt soft lighting hit your eyelids, and Alastor stir beside you. His hand didn’t leave yours, as he waited for you to join reality.

“Not so bad, hm?” He prodded you slightly, beckoning you back into reality.

Letting your pupils adjust to the light, the familiar wallpaper from the hotel corridor met your vision. Did he really just materialize the two of you across the building? You didn't have any problem walking, but perhaps Alastor was trying to avoid the small crowd that would have met them at the bottom of the patio stairs.

“I feel kind of queasy,” you responded, shaking your head of the fog in the back of your mind.

“After a few times through, it won’t bother you anymore,” Alastor assured.

Trying to get a better estimate of your location, you turned your head to one side of the hall, taking in the sight of a dark, oak door. The familiar numbering made you quirk a brow, tilting your head towards the smiling demon. He met your gaze, a soft, lipped smile on his face.

“We’re going in my room?”

“Not quite..” he hummed, gripping your shoulders and pivoting you to the opposite side. Your eyes widened, gaze locked onto the matching door of Alastor’s room.

You stayed silent, feet frozen in place as you watched him take a few steps, his good hand wrapping around the spherical doorhandle. Slowly, he twisted the knob until it clicked softly. The hinges creaked with age, and the hallway lights began to spill into the darkened room as the crack in the doorway widened.

You couldn’t see anything through the slightly opened entryway, but your heart quickened as the second passed by. Your eyes flicked up to Alastor, who regarded you curiously, his gaze gentle as your nerves began to display on your face.

“Ladies first!” He beamed, his smile an assurance to your heated skin.

He obviously wanted you to go inside, and part of your brain was nudging you forward with excitement. Alastor was inviting you into his quarters, he was allowing you to take a step inside his world, to get to know him!

The other part whispered hesitation. What lay behind that door? Surely, more than just medical supplies.

It was as if you wrapped a sheet around the reluctance that was beginning to plague your mind, stuffing it underneath the floorboards of your brain. You weren't going to let your flustered mind get the better of you, and have you miss such an opportunity to get closer to the charming demon.

Exhaling a quiet breath, you banished your nerves into the air. Straightening your back, you sent Alastor a warm smile and took a step forward.

wingman!lucifer anybody? ✋

let me know what you think! ☺️ comments and reblogs are appreciated!

tags 🏷️

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites @lunaramune @enigmatic-blues @thytorturedpoet @vanhelsingsbigtoe @mixplara @blue122 @zardward @loser-bby @sirens-and-moonflowers @diaouranask @luzzbuzz @theredviolets @the-attention-whore @rayanicaraynbow @katiebwalczak03 @girl-nahh-two @moonmark98 @asianfrustration13 @thenocturnalreadingotaku @just-here-reading @taintedgenre @fairyv-ice @aisling1985 @missam @funkyexistence @summerofregret@beezgobuzzbuzz @valentique @dory-98 @mo-0-o @willow404 @karolinda007-blog @thehybridprincesshatedchild

#hazbin hotel #hellaverse #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader

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gamorxa · 2 months

Text

RESTLESS NIGHTS •°. *࿐

PAIRINGS— paul atreides x valkyrie!reader

SUMMARY—from a young age you’ve been paul atreides’ personal apprentice, your duty being to remain professional in protecting the life of the heir to the house of atreides. however, things change after a rainy night of comforting paul after he awakens from one of his terrible visions.

NOTE—this is my first time writing and publishing anything like this for a character, but after seeing dune two i just had to. expect more creations from me in the future. Constructive criticism is welcome, just keep it nice and kind. let me know how i did!

word count: 1.2k

Valkyries are very protective beings. In battle, their ultimate purpose is to carry the fallen warriors that perished in combat, and were worthy of eternal paradise, to Valhalla where their souls would reside in blissful harmony. However, there wasn’t just one type of valkyrie. A heroine valkyrie is what you were — the kind that only guarded the lives of those dearest to them. Your dearest was no one, but the son of the duke of atreides.

When you were first assigned to the house of atreides you just barely reached the ripe age of seven years old. In those times, your duty merely consisted of being the only company around his age the young boy had in his life. Innocent soft exchanges of giggles escaped from dimpled cheeks that ached from continuous smiles. Small pieces of grass littered the wild heads of curly hair the two of you possessed from previously rolling in the freshly cut grass the maintenance keepers recently trimmed. Within years, the grass turned to responsibilities, and the dimples into abstract bruises from the numerous sparing lessons shared between the two of you. Thus, your years of childish assignments were gone.

Now, you reside in the chambers next door to the young heir in case of any and all emergencies. You lie awake in your pristine silk sheets staring at the ceiling. The thunderous Caladan rain pelted down onto glass windows surrounding you, keeping you awake. This was your first night back from your annual trip to the emperor's headquarters where your sisters remain. No other planets you’ve ever visited didn’t have rain as loud as Caladan’s.

A loud groan breaks the song of raindrops singing along the windows.

You bolt out of bed and grab a dagger with the valkyries signature emblem on the hilt. Your hands turn white in contrast to your usual brown skin from how tight you hold it. Raising to the balls of your feet to remain as silent as possible, you trudge over to the door, leaving the comfort of your room. The marble flooring in the hallway tickles the bottom of your feet, but you barely notice due to your desperation to find the source the sound came from.

More thunder cracks. Another groan.

Your head sharply turns to the left toward Paul's room. Your body turns rigid.

Oh no.

Sprinting, you throw open his mahogany dark wood door making it slam into the back wall. There in rumpled sheets lies the source. His limbs are tangled in his blanket as he thrashes around in his bed, his face scrunched up in an expression of pure anguish. Wild brown curls surround him like a halo while the moonlight shines on his pale skin. He looks like an angel. A fallen angel.

“Paul,” you mumbled, letting your dagger slip from your hands.

He stirs in his sheets, letting out another low groan.

Rushing to the side of his bed, you dropped to your knees and cradle his face scanning the rest of body. Just in case.

“Paul!” you repeated.

He bolts up abruptly making your hands fall onto the bed. He’s panting as he looks around frantically before resting his eyes on you. His expression softens.

“Y/n?” His voice is raspier than normal due to the hours of restless sleep.

“It's okay, it’s okay,” you cooed. Your face filled with concern as you brush some of his wild hair out of his face. “I’m here.”

He sighs out the majority of the tension built up, rubbing his face from sleep with his trembling hands.

“More visions?” Your voice is so soft it tickles his ears creating a blanket of comfort. He doesn’t understand how a strong warrior could possess such a comforting voice, but that's one of the reasons he liked you so much. You never failed to make his worries disappear — not with a voice like that.

He only nods.

“Want to talk about it?” You rise from your spot on the floor to sit on the side of his bed making you at eye level and in closer proximity to the stressed boy. His eyes are slightly glossed over, and he’s avoiding eye contact as if he’s embarrassed.

“No,” he looks down in his lap before locking eyes with you, “I thought you were on your trip?”

You shake your head, “I came home early.”

Home. You saying it so casually almost makes Paul visibly melt.

“I missed you,” he whispers. His words hang in the air like a forbidden secret. Well, it was forbidden seeing as the relationship between the two of you was meant to be strictly professional. However, you two managed to lay on the thin layer of gray area in the matter.

You could only bashfully turn your head away towards the window. You hated how he’d say things like that in random moments. More so, you hated how much your cheeks would turn warm and your lips would scrunch to the corner of your face showcasing a deep dimple in the apple of your cheeks. The rain was still coming down harder without any plans to stop for the night.

The boy grabs your chin with his pointer finger and thumb and redirects your attention to his face. You could only look down at your lap before eventually looking into his eyes.

Desire. Burning desire is what his eyes scream as he looks at you.

You escape his hands and rise to leave a painfully lingering kiss on his forehead.

“Get some rest, Mr. Atreides.” You say, slightly teasing as you move to get off the bed. However, he reaches for your hand stopping your movements.

“Stay,” he pleads with desperation laced in his tone.

You hesitate.

“Please, Y/n, I need you.” His eyes are low and bright from the moonlight still coating the inside of his room. His blanket lies low on his waist hiding his boxers, and showcasing his chest of lean and faint abs from his weeks of training. He looked so…

“Fine,” the words slip from your mouth before you realize. Before you know it, he’s scooting over and raising the covers to allow you to easily slip into his sheets. They’re warm from his body heat making you release a sigh of breath you didn’t know you were holding.

He looks at your chest before shyly looking you in the eyes, “Can I-”

You tiredly nod your head and open your arms out welcomingly. The boy immediately goes to rest his head on your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and tangling his legs with yours. This position feels completely natural and comforting from numerous other nights just like this one in the past. Your hands go to his curls and start massaging his head.

“Thank you,” he rasps out, barely staying awake, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Always,” you started, “I’ll always be here.”

You look down to find that the tired boy has already fallen asleep. With a small smile on your face you look up at the ceiling as more lighting cracks outside. You close your eyes assuming he missed your words.

He heard them. He always does.

#paul atreides x reader #dune x reader #dune part two #paul atreides #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #paul atreides x black!reader #fluff #paul atreides x you #reader insert #dune movie

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teddiesworldd · 2 months

Text

muffled moans and whiskey kisses.

is it morally okay to fuck a customer? (2.4k words)

a\n: thank you for all the love on my first posts! i hope you love this one just as much! also, if it wasn't made clear, ghost is wearing a mask with a cut-out for his mouth. enjoy!

pairing: ghost x female waitress!reader

tags/warnings: nsfw mdni!!, just a regular ol' bathroom hookup with the biggest guy you've ever seen, porn with plot, hickeys, a little choking if you squint

it was one of those shifts where the hours just dragged on and on. the day felt like it was never going to end as you wiped down another table and laid out the silverware neatly on top of a napkin. your mind wandered off somewhere else, but you snapped back to reality when you saw 4 huge guys walk through the pub doors and stroll over to the bar. one looked a little older than the others with a thick blonde moustache and cream bucket hat. two of them were a little shorter, a scruffy mohawk on one and the other with tanned skin covered by a blue jacket. however, it was the fella trailing behind them who made your hairs stand on end. he was absolutely giant. he was wearing a tight black t-shirt that showed off the thick, red scars which ran down his massive arms. and just to add to it, his whole face, except for his eyes and mouth, was covered by a worn-out skull mask. you realised you were staring when his dark eyes met yours and you shifted your glance back down to the table you were tending to. you could feel his eyes burning onto you as he walked past.

it was only when all 4 men were seated that you realised your colleague was still out the back and you'd have to go over and make their drinks for them yourself.

no biggie.

you make drinks for people all the time.

you desperately tried to calm your own nerves as you walked over to the bar, suddenly aware of how tight your clothes felt. the sweat on your palms. the loose hairs that had fallen from your ponytail and were now tickling your neck.

not people like this.

you were a confident person most of the time, but this skull-face guy was intimidating as hell. and the way he looked at you like a piece of meat earlier, like he wanted to eat you up. yikes. you pushed the little door open and walked behind the bar, smoothing down your waitressing apron and putting on your best customer-service smile.

"what can i get for you?"

the first three were relatively nice. the older chap was quite charming, really, making polite small talk and asking about your day. the guy with the mohawk tried cracking a few jokes which made you cringe a little but it was sweet regardless. and you noticed the military badge on the blue jacket of the third man, which made a lot of sense as the bar was right next to the military base. you had soldiers and the likes come in often, trying to drink away the stress of their day. but these guys were different. high-ranking, probably. after you had served the three, you moved down towards the fourth and asked the same question. it was only now that you realised how dark his eyes actually were. they were like dark pools of chocolate. like an empty street at night. and his pretty blonde lashes were like the stars. how could someone so big and scarred be pretty? you wondered.

"a whiskey, please."

his voice was so deep, and he had a bit of a manchester twang to his words. something about him, though frightening, was sort of attractive. the way the corners of his mouth turned up when he spoke to you. the way his huge hands rested on the bar, twiddling and fidgeting with his thick fingers and rings like he was nervous. the way he looked at you said otherwise. you wondered what those hands would feel like on you. in you. he didn't break eye contact with you the whole time he ordered, licking his lips with a sparkle in his eye. you poured the drink, then turned back to him and placed it in front of him. he thanked you and sipped it slowly.

the men stayed for a while, chatting about their recent missions and such, laughing and ordering more drinks. but the masked guy kept looking at you, sometimes at your face, sometimes at where your flesh spilled out over the buttons of your white shirt. he wasn't exactly trying to hide it either, the perv. you couldn't help but look at him too, shamelessly. he even caught you a few times looking at the way his muscles moved as he brought the glass up to his lips.

when he excused himself and walked over to the bathrooms, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, the tension between the two of you was almost suffocating. however, this was the complete opposite of a break from him.

he stood in front of the door like, well, like a ghost. his finger beckoning you to follow him. you questioned your life up to this point and scanned around the pub, it was pretty late on a weekday so it was completely empty except for the group at the bar. you put down the glass you were polishing, took off your apron and excused yourself to the three men who remained in front of you. luckily, none of them payed much attention, going straight back to their conversation.

you know what he wanted from you, of course, it wasn't like he was bringing you into the bathroom for a conversation. but still, a part of you just couldn't believe what was about to happen. he was probably a whole foot taller than you, and twice as wide.

he must be absolutely packing. he'd probably spilt me open.

you tried not to think about it.

you pushed the door quietly, your manicured nails tapping gently when they made contact. you barely even pushed the thing open before he was pulling you by the wrist into the nearest cubical, and locking the door behind him. he didn't say a word. he just pressed his lips to yours. the kiss got heated pretty quickly. you could taste the whiskey on his tongue. the way your mouths fitted together - it was like you were made for each other. it felt so perfect. so addictive.

he pulled away and moved his head into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking and leaving dark red marks across your collarbone. you couldn't help the moan that left your lips, earning a quiet "shhhh, lovie" between kisses. his voice was gorgeous. he soon reached your cleavage, planting bites and kisses all over. there was something so refreshing about him. most guys you'd been with didn't care about any of this stuff, they just wanted to be done as quickly as possible. not him, he took his time marking you, like you were something rare and precious. like you were something special. he moved his hand up to undo the buttons of your shirt, looking up at you with lust filled eyes.

"do you want this? hm? do you want me?" he growled.

you couldn't believe he was teasing you already. of course you did. "mhmm" you nodded frantically, trying to speed him up by undoing your buttons yourself, but he stopped you at the first one.

"ah ah, no. be patient, doll. tell me. tell me you want me." he asked nicely this time, waiting for your response.

"please," you whined out, a little more desperately as you intended, trying to retain a little bit of your dignity. you were still fully clothed, you didn't want to seem too needy. yet.

after hearing your response, he placed another kiss to your chest and started undoing the buttons. so slowly. it was like torture. you placed you small hand onto the back of his head, guiding him down, which he must of liked because it made him look up at you with the most devilish glint in his eye. oh, this man was about to ruin you. he hooked his fingers into the waist of your skirt, pulling it all the way off and stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans. what a gentleman, he didn't want your clothes getting all dirty on the floor of the men's bathroom. gross. after spending a second admiring your pretty lace panties and matching bra, he asked you, "you always wear underwear like this, love? what a little slut you are." something about the way he spoke to you made you absolutely wet. he looked gorgeous at this angle, knelt down in front of you, shoulders broad, inches away from your heat. part of you wanted to just pull his face into you, but he was definitely much stronger than you, so unfortunately you'd just have to wait it out.

he kissed the inside of your thighs, then over your clothed clit, making you beg for him again. then he pulled your underwear to the side, finally pressing his mouth to your soaked pussy. he felt amazing. he must be pretty experienced because he knew exactly how, when and where to make you whine and pant at every movement. the way his tongue swirled in little circles around your clit made your head spin. and the way he looked at you, never breaking eye contact, he was intoxicating. you knew if you made too much noise then his friends would definitely hear you - the walls were pretty thin. but it was so hard when he was sending you towards the edge so quickly. and when he pushed two of his thick fingers inside of you, you had to cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet. he curled it just right to hit the perfect spot inside you over and over. just his hand was stretching you out, and hitting spots that had never been hit by your own fingers. you knew you weren't going to last much longer at the brutal pace he was moving inside of you. you hooked your leg over his huge shoulder, and when he started sucking you could feel the knot in your stomach twisting. he knew this too and when you clenched around his fingers he pulled away, leaving you a panting, sweaty mess and depriving you of your orgasm.

"don't worry, doll. i'm not done with you yet," he said, standing up and turning you around so your chest was against the wall with your back to him. "want you to come on my cock, not on my fingers."

you could hear him undoing his belt and his cargo pants dropping to the floor behind you. he grabbed your hips and pulled your ass back towards him, lining you up nicely. you just knew it was going to be the biggest you'd ever taken. his tip prodded at your entrance, and he pushed slowly into you. he was huge. you hissed as he pushed inside, and he immediately stopped, checking if you're okay before carrying on, splitting you open. once you had adjusted, he started moving at a more regular pace, fucking you deep and slow. your tight pussy gripping his dick like a vice. he managed to find that spongey spot inside of you pretty quickly, hitting it over and over and causing you to let out a pornographic moan. he brought his hand over your mouth in response, muffling your slutty noises.

"is that good, lovie? yeah? you like it when i fuck you like that?" he groaned into your ear, bending over to kiss your neck and bare shoulder.

your eyes rolled back in response, bouncing back into him, which he didn't appreciate very much. with a deep grunt, the hand that remained on your hip tightened its grip, keeping you in place as he pounded into you. your head fell back into his chest in pure ecstasy, the pleasure being almost overwhelming. you could feel like knot building inside you again, getting close to your orgasm once more. his hand moved from his hip down between your legs, rubbing your clit just right, causing you to shriek into his hand. your legs began to shake as you were hurtling towards your climax. when you finally came, he had to move his hand from your clit to under your waist, holding you upright as your orgasm rocked through you. you cried out into his palm, tears forming in the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.

when you finally fell back down to earth, he brought you to your knees and pushed his huge cock into your mouth to chase his own orgasm. it was the first time you'd managed to get a proper look at it. it was the perfect shade of baby pink, your own juices gleaming on his tip. a thick vein ran down the shaft all the way to his firm, full balls. he had a decent amount of blonde hair that trailed upwards towards his bellybutton and disappeared under his t-shirt. you happily took him into you mouth, taking him as far as you could and stroking the rest with your hand. his hand found its way around your neck and squeezed gently, feeling so small in his massive hand. you looked up at him and noticed how he was biting his lip, trying to keep himself quiet. the way his eyes rolled back when you chocked on the sheer size of his dick was so hot that it almost made you want to turn back around and ask for round two. but before you knew it, he was holding your ponytail in his fist and thick ropes of cum were filling your cheeks and running down your throat. his grip on your neck and hair tightened as he let out a grunt, which was loud enough for the boys at the bar to hear for sure, but you didn't care anymore. this man was truly something else.

he helped you get up, dressed and clean afterwards, returning your skirt and carefully wiping your mouth with his thumb. he smiled at you as he did this, telling you how pretty you were and how he just had to fuck you. you went back into the pub one after the other, as to not raise suspicion. but your makeup was all ruined and he had sort of a pornstar sweat-glow to him, so it was pretty obvious regardless. he finished the last mouthful of his whiskey and left with his boys.

it was only when you'd cleaned up their glasses and locked up the pub that you realised you didn't ask for his number. or even his name, for god's sake.

but you were sure that this wouldn't be the last time that giant of a man would stumble in for a drink on a wednesday afternoon.

˚✧. thank you for reading!

˚✧. please reblog to support me <3

˚✧. dividers by @ saradika-graphics and @ si-eunnis

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#call of duty #cod mw2 #ghost smut #ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #call of duty smut #teddiesworldd

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twogyuu · 2 months

Text

[924]

pairing: vernon x fem!reader

prompt: a grabs ahold of b's hand/arm just as the latter starts to turn away/etc.

genre: fluff, (newly) established relationship

warnings: none

wc: ~1.1k

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute-

. . . .

There's a sharp ache in the side of your neck that wakes you as you felt the weight underneath your head that starts to shift and rock. Wincing and grimacing at the discomfort, you groggily try to sit up, pushing yourself into a sitting position, leveraging his thigh to steady yourself. Your death grip seems to awake your companion - what seemed like just slight adjustments in sleep evolving into a stretch and a satisfying crack of his back.

When your eyes finally adjust to the dimly lit room and you're slowly coming to your senses, you fumble for your phone on his scratched, oak coffee table with one of the legs loose, so it was a little wobbly. The overwashed navy blue fleece resting on your lap falls to the ground in the process, the table teetering ever so slightly as you slide the device off the surface.

12:43AM, reads the screen.

You inhale sharply, tossing your head back.

"What's up?" Vernon asks groggily, his voice husky with sleep. Using the heels of his hands, he adjusts himself to press up against the arm of the loveseat.

You chuckle half-heartedly, "We fell asleep watching TV." You gesture to the screen that had returned to the series list, the same preview playing over and over again in the upper right hand corner.

"Oops," Vernon mumbles lightly. He reaches for his water bottle and takes a quick swig to clear his throat.

"I should go," you tell him, starting to rise from your seat. You didn't think twice about it, to be frank. Yes, you've been dating for a few months now, but staying over was anything short of natural. You bend over the side of the couch, starting to search for your coat and bag you had tossed haphazardly on the floor early. You can hear Vernon rustling on the couch. The friction of his jeans brushing against the patterned surface of the hand-me-down couch from Seungcheol, the springs creaking under his weight.

Though you feel nonchalant, Vernon feels like the moment is sand slipping through his fingers - it's going all too fast and he can't think straight, yet he's grasping for each and every piece like his life depends on it.

Vernon's hand latches onto your wrist, the warmth of his finger tips seeping into your skin, prompting you to pause in your search and look back to him. He's leaned over on his knees, his other free hand propping himself up. His mouth fell agape; the light from the screen danced in the reflection of his dark hazel eyes, innocent, but somewhat serious.

There's a beat that passes before he utters a soft, "Wait."

You don't answer, only giving him your full attention and looking at him expectantly for him to ask his question.

"Do you wanna stay over?" he asks, "It's late."

This takes you by surprise because you have never not left his place during darker hours of the night before. He usually drove you back himself if you hadn't driven over - or if the both of you were too tired, he'd help pay for an Uber back (only because you refused to let him pay in full).

You chuckle nervously, defaulting to what you know best: teasing.

"Aw," you coo, leaning over to be closer to him. You slip your wrist out of his hold to let your fingers intertwine with his loosely. You joke lightheartedly, "Only if you miss me."

He doesn't hesitate to reply: "I do."

Your tongue dries, the snarky rounds of teases lodging in your throat.

The way your mischevious smile falls and your eyes darting away from him while blinking rapidly is all Vernon needs to know you were affected.

That was the thing about Vernon - perhaps if it was anyone else, they might have fallen into a fluster with your question, or at best, banter back. However, it wasn't in Vernon's nature to flirt and joke in such fashion. Times like this reminds you of that this was part of the reason you fell for him in the first place. He catches you off-guard, his straightforward nature somehow managing to make you flustered and skittish. Whether it's intentional or not, he knows the ins and outs of your little default flirting games, getting you to tell him what you really wanted, rather than dancing around it. His intentions were always clear.

"Stay?" Vernon asks again, already pulling you away from your stuff.

"A-are you sure?" you stammer, "We haven't . . . done this before."

"I'm sure," he tells you firmly. Quickly, he adds to reassure you, "There's a first time for everything."

"I don't have my pajamas or anything," you argue weakly.

"You can borrow some of my sweats and t-shirts."

"Oh," you look away bashfully. It wasn't even a scandalous request, yet it still feels so intimate, it makes you shy.

He gives you a moment to collect yourself, before giving your hand a quick squeeze again.

"So?" he asks softly. "If you really feel that weird about it-"

"It's fine," you cut him off quickly. You let out a deep breath, not wanting this moment to slip out of your hands because you were being squeamish.

"You're nervous, aren't you?" he challenges. You don't bother to look at him, but you knew, he was grinning - you could practically hear the way his lips creak up into a wide smile at your fidgeting.

"I-I'm just . . . you know," your voice trails off, finally having enough courage to look up at him.

"I don't know, actually," Vernon pushes on.

He waits patiently for your answer. The moment growing more awkward as the seconds pass by. The antique clock Seungkwan got at the garage sale two blocks away ticking away in the background making it known that you were taking a rather long time to answer what was supposed to be a simple question.

"I'll stay," you finally relent quietly.

"Was it that hard to say?" He brushes his thumbs across your knuckles once before letting go. Indeed, you were equally straightforward when the time was right, but feelings, particularly romantic ones, weren't one of them. Heck, after almost three months of what he'd like to think was mutual pining, it took Wonwoo (voluntarily by his own will for the record - Vernon would never force you to do this) cornering you after work and personally delivering you hostage to Vernon at his apartment (a story for another time).

"Yes," you mumble.

He plants a chaste kiss on your temple. You could feel him smiling into it. "I'll go get you something to wear."

#vernon x reader #vernon fluff #vernon scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios

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eternally-racing · 3 months

Text

how do you like your eggs? | lando norris

pairing: lando x reader (w/ best friend Danny Ric)

genre: fluff

wc:1.2k

summary: Lando’s determined to show you how much you mean to him by cooking you breakfast, even if he is horrible in the kitchen.

— — — —

“You’re being way too loud, mate, you’re going to wake her up.”

There’s too much rummaging through cabinets as Daniel asks Lando if he can get his sifter out from the cabinets. It sure as hell would be a lot easier to find if Lando actually knew what a sifter was, but as a boy who’s gotten most of his meals delivered to him and has become a creature of habit for the select few that he does make on his own, it’s safe to say that he is an absolute menace in the kitchen.

After your boyfriend Lando had last minute decided to go to Australia to visit Daniel, you received enough facetimes and text messages from him begging for you to come visit that you had finally caved to spontaneity and flew into Perth the night before.

Lando was nothing but a gentleman, and he wanted to do something special to show his appreciation for you going out of your way to spend time with him. Every sacrifice that you make definitely does not go unnoticed, and in the little time that he has during the offseason Lando likes to make sure that you know how much he loves everything that you do for him.

And somehow that led to his master plan of wanting to cook breakfast for you. He knew that he was no masterchef, but Lando had hoped that having his former teammate help him out in the kitchen would be enough. It started as a plan to make a full English breakfast. Then Lando realized that Daniel’s fridge looked like he hadn’t gone grocery shopping since the two of them were teammates, so the plan got switched to just eggs and homemade biscuits. And after two failed attempts at making dough for biscuits that had only led to a colossal mess on the kitchen countertops they finally settled for making just eggs.

“There’s a really great breakfast cafe down the road, Lando. I’m sure Y/N would like that just as much as..” Daniel’s voice trails off as he looks at what he used to be able to recognize as his own kitchen “whatever this is that you’re doing.”

Meanwhile, Lando is at eye level with his bowl of freshly cracked eggs as he is carrying out what he can only describe as a “rescue mission” to fish out the pieces of eggshell that have fallen into the bowl.

“Shut up Daniel, it’s a labor of love, you wouldn’t get it.” He continues to pick out a concerning number of pieces of shell.

“More like a labor of salmonella” Daniel snickers as he leans against the counter.

The Aussie is quick to jump out of the way when Lando throws a piece of shell at him and misses, only adding to the mess in the kitchen. Luckily, he’s saved by the bell when you finally stumble out of the bedroom, sleep still clouding your eyes.

“Good morning sunshine!” Lando yells from the stove as he’s finally gotten into action cooking said eggs.

With the promise that in 2 minutes there would be fresh eggs for breakfast, Lando guides you to sit at the table. You hadn’t realized until this moment that you’d never seen Lando cook at all, let alone cook for you. He was a great sous chef when he asked you to be, but you weren’t sure of his abilities when left to his own devices.

“Breakfast is served!” Lando says as he lays the plate in front of you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise, biting your tongue to keep your initial reaction from slipping out.

“They’re poached!” your boyfriend exclaims with a smile.

Lando looks so proud and there’s no way you can break his heart over what is certainly a non-edible, definitely not poached egg that he has placed in front of you.

“Thank you, baby” you smile as you pinch his cheek.

You can see Daniel posed behind Lando wildly shaking his hands and mouthing “DO NOT EAT” as he watches you toy with the runny eggs in front of you. You would do anything for Lando, including eating an icky egg, so you pick up your fork and dig in.

It’s definitely still raw, which you expected from its appearance, but there’s subtle hints of vinegar and sugar and something spicy that feels especially vile on your tongue. Your best attempt at a poker face cracks near the end as you try to swallow, but you’re quick to try and cover it up.

“Wow, you did something really special with these Lan” you say, choosing your words very carefully as you try to wash out your mouth with a non-suspicious amount of water.

Lando offers to try them and you figure there’s no point in stopping them as he piles some egg onto a spoon. You swear it barely even touches his mouth before he spits it back out right onto the plate.

“Oh my god - you swallowed that??” The British boy doesn’t even dare to put his tongue back into his mouth as he tries to brush the taste off his taste buds. You can’t help the giggle that bubbles up inside you as you and Daniel start to keel over in laughter.

“Mate - you let me serve this to my girlfriend?? I could have killed her or something with this!” Lando turns to Daniel in his rage.

The Aussie is laughing and is trying to rationalize that the egg is probably not deadly as he continues to gasp for air. It’s Lando who makes the next move to grab the plate and dump it in its entirety in the garbage.

“That’s a porcelain plate, Lando!” you exclaim from where you’re sitting.

“”Please, it’s probably a biohazard at this point. I think I owe Daniel an entirely new kitchen at this point anyways, so he can just add this to my tab.” Lando jokes as he pulls you towards the bathroom, gesturing towards the mess on the counters as you both walk away.

“Lando, she’s so in love with you because you couldn’t pay me to eat that shit.” Daniel says as he watches the both of you share the bathroom trying to brush the vile taste off your tongues with your toothbrushes.

Lando keeps the toothbrush in his mouth as he goes to wrap his arms around your waist, something that has you shrugging away since you’re pretty sure he’s drooling on your shoulder, and you tell him exactly that. From the side Daniel can’t stop laughing as he stares at you two.

The British boy stays attached to you as he leans over to spit out his toothpaste, mumbling something you can’t quite understand.

“ I sdflksnjo sdlkgsnd”

You almost choke on your spit listening to Lando’s babbling as you hunch over to do the same in the sink.

“I was trying to say that I’m so lucky to have you baby. I love you.”

You can't help but smile against Lando’s lips as you pull him in for a kiss. There’s still a vague taste of vinegar and egg that you know will linger for a little too long, but more than anything, he tastes like love.

---

author's note: this was just something fun and sweet inspired by Lando's recent interview about his Australia trip! Thanks for all the love :) Until next time! - Em 🤍

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florencemtrash · 5 months

Text

The Artificer: Part II - Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Torture, violence, death

✨Based on this ask ✨

Masterlist of Masterlists

“She is my mate.” The male’s eyes flashed with horror and understanding, and that feeling chased him towards his death, “And your High Lord will burn for what he’s done.”

Five months later…

“Where is she?” The Shadowsinger stalked forward, silent as the dead and just as unfeeling.

The Autumn Court warrior at least had the sense to tremble when The Shadowsinger came near. But he kept his red-cracked lips shut, golden eyes shining with hatred.

“Bastard.” He sneered, spitting on Azriel’s polished boot.

“I said.” A shadow darted out from his side, grabbing a fistful of matted tawny hair and wrenching it back. His skin was thin, so translucent that Azriel traced the flow of his blood in his purple veins with dead eyes. “Where. Is. She?” Every word was emphasized with a violent jerk.

He’d gone to visit you last week, carrying your favorite chocolates from Velaris and hoping for a far sweeter kiss in return. Instead your workshop had been in ruins. Swords shattered and the fire burnt out. For the first time, the room had been cold and unlit.

Azriel had only found the pathetic male in front of him, kneeling on the ground and uselessly tugging at the sword which refused to move - Sunseeker.

Azriel held it now in his hands, the pale, yellow glow sharpening the shadows beneath his eyes and the elegantly cruel cut of his jaw.

It had been a risk trying to pick up the sword, but the weapon had sung to him and his shadows, calling out for him to wield it instead of the unworthy Autumn Court male. Azriel was no replacement for its real master - he was no replacement for you - but Sunseeker willed it and he obeyed.

“Is there truly no one else capable of wielding it?” Azriel asked, sitting so close to you that your knees and elbows brushed against one another. He didn’t have the courage to kiss you just yet, but gods did he want to. And with the hours he’d spent looking at and dreaming about your lips, he was certain he had a good idea what you tasted like.

“Her.” You corrected, holding the sword up to the steady stream of sunlight that spilled through the slats in the ceiling. Pressed against the light, the sword appeared almost transparent - as if made of glass.

Azriel smiled. You liked to name and personify every tool, weapon, and piece of equipment you owned, as if you had a secret third eye that allowed you to see into the lives of inanimate objects. He wanted to believe it was true - it was the only way he could explain the wonders you produced with your bare hands.

“There is one other person capable of such a thing,” You hesitated to tell him, but ultimately finished. “My mate.”

All at once Azriel’s heart fell into free fall, prepared to crash through the cradle of his bones and into the floor. His face, marvelously, betrayed nothing.

“Your mate.” He stole his gaze away, focusing on a very interesting speck of dust on the counter, “They’re lucky.” He murmured, drawing away.

You snorted, shaking your head. “Not lucky enough.” You sheathed the blade, returning it to its new place on the wall, “They haven’t found me yet.”

“Oh.” A flicker of hope filled his chest - dangerous and unwieldy. “Is that… is that something you want? A mate? ” Azriel wondered aloud before his mind could trap the words. He cringed, shaking his head in self-disappointment.

What a stupid question. Everyone wanted to find their mate. Everyone. He himself had been obsessed with the concept for hundreds of years. He had thought he’d find his mate in Mor, and then Elain, he had even thought he felt something more than friendship for Gwyn.

But more recently the idea had faded into the recesses of his mind. More recently the worst of his thoughts had fallen silent, and it was all thanks to you.

“Maybe,” You considered it, “Maybe not.” You sighed, sinking back into your seat. You rubbed at a metal coin on the benchtop, feeling the oil gather on its surface and taint your fingers grey, “My parents were mates. They didn’t love each other though. Not really.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n.”

You shook your head and shook off his sympathy.

“I don’t know if I want a mate…”

You pulled your chair closer and reached out, delicately beginning to drag your fingertips over the ridges and valleys of Azriel’s scars. His heart stopped when you picked up his hands and gently kissed them, your calloused fingertips rolling over his ruined skin.

“But there is something I definitely want.” You revealed, looking at him with more feeling than you ever had before.

You’d been scraping by on lingering touches and reserved smiles and momentary glances that spoke of more than friendship. But it wasn’t enough. It had never been enough, not since the moment he’d walked into your workroom. You felt like a woman starved, deprived of something that you hadn’t even tasted yet. It was a terrible pain to want something you didn’t even understand the nature of.

Azriel wasn’t everything. He wasn’t the air you needed to breathe. He wasn’t every piece of joy that life could bring. But he was the bright touch of color in the world that made everything that came before seem dull. And you didn’t want to live in greyscale anymore.

Azriel swallowed thickly, his hands instinctively falling to your waist and pulling you into his lap. “Whatever it is you want, Y/n - anything at all - I’ll give it to you.” He whispered reverently, closing his eyes when you pressed your forehead against his, “I swear it on my life.”

It was such sweet torture feeling you pressed against him with your hands caressing his throat. You smelled like woodsmoke and citrus. Heady, sweet, and clean all at the same time.

“Just you, Az. I just want you.”

He couldn’t handle it anymore. He tightened his grip on you, swallowing your little gasp of surprise with his lips.

Time was molten metal. Cooling, slowing, and warping around your hands as you molded it to your liking, so you could savor this moment for as long as possible.

Little did you know, your mate had found you. And he would find you again. Nothing but the crashing of the stars and the splitting of the earth would keep him from fulfilling this promise.

Azriel’s eyes darkened.

“Three of you were sent to take Y/n.” Azriel stalked around the male, slipping in and out of eyesight without warning. The male pulled at his chains and the ring of his futile efforts echoed throughout the dungeon.

“She put up a fight.” Azriel emerged from the male’s left, shooting out an arm so quickly that the pain followed after the fall of blood down his freckled cheeks.

Azriel cleaned Truth-Teller on his forearm nonchalantly, continuing his ambiguous path. If it weren’t for the hard cruelty in his eyes and the knife in his hands, he would look… normal. As if he were doing the grocery instead of slowly butchering a fae alive. He’d already taken three fingers and four toes.

The male began to shake.

“I saw the blood in the shop. It wasn’t yours, and it wasn’t hers.”

Another arm shot out, followed by a scream. The male grappled for an ear that was no longer there, feeling the blood drip down his arms from the stump.

“I DON’T KNOW!” The male cried out, curling in on himself, “I don’t know.” He repeated miserably.

“What don’t you know?” Azriel asked. His countenance said he was bored, but inside he was barely holding on by a thread. His shadows begged to be released and scattered across all of Prythian until you were returned home. They wanted chaos and pain - anything to distract from your aching absence.

Let us handle this. They hissed. We can take him. We’ll get the information. We’ll get everything. Let us-

Azriel shushed them, and they obeyed, falling to the edges of his consciousness and the edges of his body.

“What don’t you know?�� Azriel leaned forward, some sick, twisted part of him relishing in the way the male flinched.

“I-I don’t know where she is. I don’t even know why he wanted her. Just some no-name artificer from-”

“Who wanted her?”

The male paled further until his skin was as pallid as moonlight on lakewater.

“WHO?!”

“THE HIGH LORD!” He whimpered, shuffling away from Azriel’s encroaching footsteps. The chains scuffed the ground and then clanged when he reached the end of his length, trailing blood. “Ber-Beron wanted her.”

Azriel stilled, his insides turning cold.

There were dozens of reasons why Beron might want you as his prisoner. Your talents alone made you worth a thousand men. But if Beron had any awareness of what you meant to him?

Azriel gritted his teeth. “For what purpose?” He growled.

The male’s dull eyes closed in defeat. He was as good as dead. He could only hope the rumours were true and that the Night Court were not the devils they pretended to be. Then, and only then, might he be offered the option of a violently quick end.

“He heard rumours of an artificer - a female artificer - capable of crafting weapons that could be bonded to a single wielder. He’s been searching for years now.” He shook his bloodied locks, “We thought…We thought it would be another dead end. Another body to bury. We didn’t think-” He choked on his words, trailing off into silence.

Azriel crouched down, dragging the Truth-Teller down the male’s face like a sculptor ready to carve a piece of marble down.

One wrong breath, one flinch, and he’d draw blood.

“Finish what you were going to say.” His hazel eyes cut deep.

He swallowed, “We didn’t think… we didn’t think she was anyone important.”

Azriel’s eyes were swallowed up by shadows until they hardened into two marble stones.

The male held his breath, feeling an oppressive power start to press down on him. Suffocating. Cold. Lethal. Darkness shoved him to the floor, crushing his ribs until they splintered and snapped.

“That was your mistake,” Azriel growled, “She is someone important. More important than you will ever be.” With a flash of blue and black, he buried Truth-Teller into the male’s chest all the way down to the hilt.

A shock of surprise and pain flooded the male’s face, and before the expression could dissipate, Azriel leaned in close enough to smell the blood pooling on his tongue and dripping down his chin.

“She is my mate.” The male’s eyes flashed with horror and understanding, and that feeling chased him towards his death, “And your High Lord will burn for what he’s done.”

___________

His shadows roiled in frustration, climbing up his legs and arms like fire greedily chasing after oxygen. They weren’t happy about being denied a kill, and every moment Azriel kept them on a leash, the more irritable they became. Their devotion to you was second only to Azriel. Even then, they would hesitate to disappoint you, even if it meant going against their master.

Soon. He promised them. Soon.

Azriel’s silhouette was carved out of the fabric of the night sky, shadows curling around his arms and wings as he stayed low, pooling his power to keep them all hidden. Cassian and Eris lay on the ground beside him, arms and wings tucked in close.

Autumn lay like a sleeping giant all around them, sighing with a breath that had mist floating up from slick, damp earth covered in leaves. Azriel was grateful for the weather, the rain disguised the curling of their breath in the air and masked their footsteps when they crossed over from Spring. Night and mist were a Shadowsinger’s dream.

The ground rose steadily in front of them, trees only daring to inch halfway up the hill as if they too could taste the magic in the air. All the trees - save for the godstree that marked the crest of the hill and snaked its thundering hand towards the sky in a knobby, clenched fist.

Icaryon Hill was one of Autumn’s most highly guarded secrets, and like the Forest House, it hid all its treasures and prisoners underground.

Azriel leaned down, pressing his ear to the ground and straining his ears for anything. Anything at all.

Eris smirked at him, reveling in the way Azriel bristled and bared his teeth. He would never let the Shadowsinger forget how he’d become desperate enough to swallow his pride and ask him for help.

Cassian looked equally displeased at the Lordling’s presence. “I hope your information isn’t as useless as the rest of you.”

“Careful who you call useless, Bastard,” Eris drawled, choosing his words very carefully, “Or else I might have to leave you and your pretty little artificer for the dogs.”

Cassian had to stop himself from wringing his pale, slender neck, but Azriel - for once in his life - didn’t have that much self control.

He shot forward, wrapping one scarred hand around Eris’s throat and slamming his head back into the ground, pushing down until he sank six inches into the damp soil.

Eris’s eyes flashed with something like triumph and curiosity. Nevermind that the Shadowsinger was currently crushing his ribs with his knee, or that Truth Teller was starting to leave a thin line of blood on his neck.

Azriel hated him, and the piece he hated most was that even when Eris was down, he had a way of making himself out to be the biggest person in the room.

“Az, that’s enough,” Cassian hissed. His eyes kept swiveling back up to the hill, “Let him go.”

Eris had warned them there would be a narrow window of time between the changing of the guards. The belly of Icaryon Hill was so expertly warded that no one - not even the High Lord - was capable of winnowing in. At some unknown time three guards would slip out and three guards would slip in, all winnowing to the gate hidden in the base of the godstree. One - and only one - of the males would have the key necessary to enter and exit and they’d have to unlock the gate in twenty seconds or risk triggering an alarm. If any blood was spilled on the earth, internal alarms within the Forest House would trigger the arrival of a squadron of gorgons capable of turning flesh to rock with a single touch.

That meant in order to evade the wards they’d have to winnow up the hill, kill six highly-trained males without bloodshed, and find the key in less than twenty seconds if they wanted even the smallest chance of getting you out.

Cassian knew this and it made his stomach turn.

Eris knew this and it made him cocky.

“Interesting.” Eris said, tilting his head with a smug smile on his face, “The Artificer, huh? Was that doe-eyed seer not enough for you?”

Azriel began to heave with rage, eyes turning pure black. It was enough to scare even Cas. Azriel had been on edge for weeks since you’d gone missing, but Cass had never seen him so… so unhinged.

Azriel had traded in his icy rage for a darker, more visceral variety capable of driving him to madness.

And Eris was not making things better.

He continued to goad him, “Maybe she ran away? I wouldn’t blame her.”

“Eris, shut the fuck up.” Cassian growled, “When are the guards changing?”

Eris ignored him, concentrating on the Shadowsinger. Azriel may have been the one to approach him for help, but that didn’t mean he was going to waste an opportunity to advance his own agenda.

It was funny. Everyone said The Shadowsinger was near unreadable - cold as a statue and as unfeeling as steel. But deep down, Eris knew he was still the same little Illyrian bastard that had been shoved into a cellar and convinced he didn’t matter. And more than making him insecure or thoughtful, it had made him angry.

Eris switched tactics, focusing on you instead, “Maybe, when this is all said and done, your precious whore will run away too.” Azriel stilled, shadows pouring off of him to the ground where they turned into claws and sank in deep, “And just maybe, I’ll be there to fuck her the way she likes. I’d pay her good money too.”

“Eris!” Cassian’s warning came too late. Azriel raised his arm, Truth Teller glinting in the darkness.

Something in the earth shifted, thin rays of light spilling out of the gate atop the hill.

Eris smiled.

Just on time.

The guards were changing.

“Fuck!” Cassian groaned, grabbing at his swords but not daring to unsheath them.

Azriel was roiling with panic and rage, every muscle in his body feeling ready to split in two. And Eris… Eris was smiling.

“Go on Shadowsinger.” He said, pointing to the hill, “Tick tock.”

Azriel clawed the front of his shirt, hauling him to his feet at the same time he clutched Cassian’s arm hard enough to bruise. They winnowed up to the gate in a whirlwind of death and shadow.

Six guards. 15 seconds.

Eris slammed his fist into two of the males’ throats, cutting off their roars of alarm. Two swift kicks to their knees and they exploded out with a sickening snap. Sharp cracks followed and they fell to the ground, their necks sticking out at a harsh angle.

Four.

Eris dropped to his knees, ripping at amour in search of the key.

Cassian rolled to the ground, narrowly missing the downward swing of a sword that buried itself in the ground. He bounced onto his feet, as lithe and limber as a fae a quarter of his size. He grabbed a fistful of blood-red hair, swiftly bringing the other elbow down. He made perfect contact at the base of the skull, severing the connection between the spinal cord and the brain.

Three.

This was taking too long. They would never make it in time.

But… but how was it still so quiet? Cassian dared to look up from his search for the key and his blood ran cold.

Azriel…

Azriel was death and decay given form. The moment they reached the gate, for the first time in his life, he relinquished full control of his shadows.

They swarmed around him until he was nothing more than a dark, blurry cloud of destruction. He grabbed the male closest to him, digging his hands into his throat and registering the horror in his eyes before shadows poured into his eyes, mouth, nose, ears. They flooded every sense, screaming in Azriel’s ears of a power that he had never been desperate or angry enough to unleash… until now.

The shadows filled the male’s body, wrecking bones and ripping apart tendons with a force that transformed them into razor sharp talons. The male gurgled, body jerking around in pain. Azriel finished him off by snapping his neck with a clean, sharp jerk. The body fell to the ground with a hollow thud.

Two.

The remaining guards similarly dropped to their knees, empty eyes and hands left to ghost over their throats before they fell forward. Dead.

Shadows leaked out of their eyes and mouth, slipping over their cooling bodies like the rain that pitter pattered against their backs. But no blood. Not even a drop.

One tendril of night slid up Azriel’s leg and washed over his hands, depositing a glittering bronze key that burned with warmth.

He should have felt more. More surprise and some semblance of disgust at what he’d just done. What he’d been capable of. But those feelings remained hidden, sullen and silent behind walls of obsidian willpower and adamant.

Cassian and Eris stared at him, wasting a few precious seconds to gape at the littering of bodies around them, raindrops pattering onto their backs and slowly absorbing into leather and skin.

Cassian swallowed, daring to break the silence, “I never knew you could do that.” He admitted blandly. Cassian wasn’t afraid of his brother - he never could be. He’d survived too many battles by his side to ever fear being on the wrong end of his blade… but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be unnerved by the powers that thrived within him, and how little anyone knew about them.

“Neither did I,” Azriel said without emotion, closing his fist around the key. “Let’s go.”

He stalked to the gate where it hummed in the ground like a dropped coin, fluttering with life, beckoning him to enter.

Just a little longer, Y/n. I’m coming.

He used the key and the gate opened.

You crouched in the darkness, cradling your ruined hands and trying not to cry.

The first few weeks Beron had let you out of your cell during the day, bringing you to the forge hidden beneath the hill so you could set about building him a weapon of his own. You’d leaned into his desires, working the metal until it sang a song of promise to the cruel High Lord.

He wanted power, and you’d promised it to him, proving your worth long enough for Azriel to come find you. But it had been almost two months, Azriel was nowhere to be found, and Beron was losing patience.

He traded empty compliments for threats, and when those failed to do anything, he turned to outright cruelty. Just this morning, he’d had one of his men whip your hands until they bled. Then, as a personal touch, he’d torn your shirt to pieces and trailed his fingers down your back. His touch had been light. You could’ve mistaken them for the kisses of a lover if it weren’t for the fact that he’d set the tips of his fingers on fire so they burned the whole way down.

They smarted and burned, the pain seeping in now that the shock was ebbing away.

“He’s coming. He’s coming.” You murmured to yourself, curling in on yourself with your arms pressed close to your exposed chest. “Just stay strong. Stay strong.”

“He’s not coming for you, dear.” A phantom hand, cold and bony as death, caressed your back. You looked up, eyes shining like two shards of glass in the darkness.

The High Lord was as handsome as he was deadly, the smooth and elegant planes of his face and his honey-sweet voice in stark contrast to the light of his eyes - or rather lack thereof.

They held no warmth, no pity, no fear.

“He’s not coming for you.” He repeated.

“Liar.”

He clicked his tongue in disappointment, shaking his head. His blood-red robes trailed along the grate of your prison cell, blocking out the meager light that trickled down. The gold-trim embroidery winked deceptively, flashing sultry looks of wealth and opulence in your direction.

Your stomach growled painfully and you wrapped yourself up as best you could. You’d spent most of your life time by the forge. Cold was not a familiar experience.

“I don’t know what that Illyrian bastard, Azriel, promised you. Wealth. Prestige. Love.”

You growled, kicking the wall hard enough for a shower of dirt to rain down on your head. You tried not to flinch when debris landed on sensitive skin, “Keep his name out of your mouth.”

Beron smirked, amused, “So much anger. So much defensiveness for a male who won’t care about you the next time a pretty female with doe eyes wanders into his path.”

You bared your teeth at him.

“Ahhhhh,” he clicked his tongue happily, “So perhaps you’re already aware he holds a certain reputation. Pity.” There was another swoosh of his velvet robes, “I’m promising you safety, enough gold and silks to make an empress jealous, and in return I just ask for you to do what you’ve always done.” He held up his hands, “I don’t understand where the difficulty lies”

“In return you’d want to make me your bitch.” You spit out, “To give you the tools to kill whomever you pleased.”

“I already have the tools to kill whomever I please.”

“No. No you don’t.” He narrowed his eyes in displeasure. You limped forward, holding your hands close to your chest. Your body may have been weak, but your heart and your mind were still strong. Not even Beron was capable of taking that from you. You looked up at the High Lord unflinchingly, “When Azriel comes for me - and he will - I’ll ask him for your head on a pike.”

Beron sneered, “If he and his half-breed Lord decide you’re worth the trouble, I’ll kill your little Shadowsinger first and reduce him to ash.”

You set your jaw, refusing to look away as the High Lord turned on his heels and left the room. Only then did you sink to your knees exhausted and breathed in the scent of damp, rotting earth.

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#the artificer #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #the shadowsinger #shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 3 months

Text

The Bet

Part one

Eddie is desperate to talk to you but will you ever be able to forgive and forget after learning your friendship was nothing more than a bet? Especially as you had fallen in love with him.

Do you still love him after all that anguish?

Part two.

Warnings: A lot of angst and you'll see..minors shoo! 18+

Don't copy, translate or repost my work.

❤️

A bet. That's all you'd ever been to Eddie, a bet to get one over on your now ex boyfriend, on Jason and the rest of the dark side as Eddie's friend had put it.

Had they spent this whole time laughing at you? Did Eddie get some kick out of stringing you along, stealing your heart piece by piece.

Was everything just a lie?

You had broken up with Bryan a week ago. Sick of his horrible nature and drawn to Eddie, head over heels for him. God you felt like such a fool.

The night you found out about the bet you cried yourself to sleep, walking to school on autopilot. Thank goodness for your friends because you struggled to get through the first day.

Mostly everyone was sympathetic but there was some people who sniggered when you walked past, whispered to their friends only it was so loud that you could hear.

I can't believe how gullible that idiot was

Imagine knowing the freak only got close to you for a bet

Serves that bitch and all the rest of Jason's idiots and the cheerleaders right for thinking they are so hot.

About time someone took them down a peg

Each thinly veiled barb cracked your already bleeding heart and you hurried to get away from the gossip.

It trickled out a couple days later, once the people had finished finding your pain hilarious, how anyone could find someone in pain to be funny was a mystery to you.

Whenever you saw Eddie you rushed away before he could speak to you, wouldn't look at his face because all you knew from him was lies.

Everything was a lie. He didn't love you, he never did. Your heart throbs with that realisation and you do your best to walk around school, head held up high and the heartbreak tucked up inside.

It was all an act but you were a great actor, you had to be to pretend like you weren't in agony on the inside.

...

It was the worst few weeks that Eddie could remember in a long long time, Dustin was disgusted with him and took a long time to talk to him.

His heart felt like it had been ripped in half and it was all his own fault, you wouldn't even look at him.

If he even attempted to try and speak to you it was to no avail.

The longest sentence you uttered was when he begged you to talk to him, even just one word.

All you said was ''goodbye Eddie" or that ''you didn't believe a word he said"

Steve picked you up from school with Robin every day, wouldn't even let Eddie go near you. Threatened to beat the shit out of him if he made you cry again.

He tried to speak to you again a few days later when Steve had eased up on guarding you, it was agonising weeks of you avoiding him.

You were coming out of cheer practice with Chrissy and another girl, Chrissy glared at him and the other girl looked like she wanted to kill him.

"Can we talk please, princess?'' he pleads and you ask your friends to give you a second and they do, very reluctantly still scowling at Eddie. He deserves that.

"I can't Eddie. I don't have anything to say to you" he swallows, his mind going a mile a minute, trying to think of what he can say to express how sorry he is.

''I messed up. I made a stupid mistake. The worst mistake, because I hurt you. I made a dumb bet to try and get back at assholes who bullied and made my friends and my life hell, it was mean and selfish and I wish I'd never done it" you listen to what he has to say and his heart aches when tears pool in your eyes.

"But you did do it, you couldn't even tell me the truth. You lied to me Eddie and all the time I was...I fell in love with you" he moves forward to cup your cheek, desperate for you to know that he loves you too.

"I love you, I fell in love with you and that's why I couldn't tell you. I couldn't lose you" you stare at him and don't speak for a few seconds, when you do the words split his heart in two.

"That's the thing, you lost me anyway" you walk away from him and he can't think of a single thing to say to stop you. Then he steels himself and runs to catch up with you.

"What Eddie?" you snap and he talks quickly, tripping over his words and anxious to get the words out.

"I hurt you badly, I fucked up and what I did was just fucking awful. I know that. I also know that I'm so in love with you, never thought I could feel this way for anyone but you snuck into my heart and it belongs only to you" you don't say anything but you don't rush away either, so Eddie says one more thing before you do decide to leave.

"I'll wait for you sweetheart, for however long it takes. I don't care how long I have to wait, you're worth every single second"

Tears pool in your eyes and you nod slightly. Ever so gently you squeeze his hand just a tiny bit then walk away, leaving Eddie determined as hell to win your trust again and maybe somewhere along the line your heart too.

💕

It took a while for you to even speak to Eddie for longer than five minutes, but he was nothing if not determined and patient, he's was not screwing this chance up.

At first, you didn't think Eddie was serious about waiting for you, but he was. Endlessly patient and sweet. Big brown eyes full of tenderness and joy when you spoke to him.

It was hard not to find him endearing, but he had hurt you badly and there was still a small part of you that held back, that was hesitant to get close, trying to protect your fragile heart that ached for you to give Eddie a chance.

It's Friday now and after an intense week of cheer practice, you can't wait to relax for the weekend.

Chrissy had been watching you looking at Eddie with longing, the exact same way Eddie looked at you for weeks now. To be honest it was beyond frustrating, the both of you loved one another, it was killing you both to be apart.

So that's why she was saying something to you today. More than anything she wanted you to be happy, if Eddie hurt you again just even a tiny bit then she would kick his ass.

That's before Steve go there first.

"Honey, what Eddie did was wrong and I'm mad as hell at him but anyone can see how sorry he is. He's so in love with you, maybe you could give him a second chance" Chrissy says to you as you sit down for lunch.

You rest your head on Chrissy's shoulder and let out a sigh. ''I want to, I want to so badly but I don't want to be heartbroken again''

Something tells Chrissy that Eddie wouldn't dare. That he would keep his promise to never hurt you so badly again.

She squeezes your hand reassuringly and it calms your anxiety down.

"Babe, he wouldn't dare. He's not stupid. Plus everyone might think I'm a sweetheart but I'll kick his ass if he did and Steve would too. Eddie won't lose you, not again"

The words play on your mind all day and when Eddie is hurrying to his truck at the end of Hellfire Club you pluck up your courage and go to speak to him.

"Eddie" the minute he sees you it's like his whole face lights up. A dimpled smile and brown eyes full of adoration greet you.

"Hey, sweetheart" longing fills the air, stifling you both and honestly you're pretty sick of it. So you take a leap, walk up to Eddie and take his hand.

"Would you mind if I asked you for a ride Eds?'' his hand tightens around yours and he grins, rushes to open the door to his truck and almost trips over his feet in the process. It's cute and you can't help but giggle.

He holds the door open for you. "Princess, your carriage awaits" you head inside.

The drive is short and sweet, Eddie once again being a gentleman as he opens the door for you to step out.

You thank him for the ride and before Eddie can head back into the truck, you kiss his cheek gently, then leave a sweet, chaste kiss on his lips.

The kiss leaves him looking dazed, he touches his cheek then his lips and there's that smile again, the one that melted your heart the first time you seen it.

"One more chance Eddie, if you hurt me again thats it. I mean it" he nods, his face serious as he takes in what you say.

"I swear you won't regret this princess, I love you and I'll spend every day proving that, do you... do you still love me?" he whimpers after a few seconds, his expression wide with worry and fear.

"I've never stopped" you answer back.

After your confession he practically does a little dance as he goes into his truck. Just before you open the door to your house, you hear his whoop of delight before he drives off.

The smile doesn't leave your face all night.

❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst

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milswrites · 3 months

Text

Irreplaceable

~Azriel X Reader

Summary: While on a mission with Azriel, Y/N finds herself captured by the enemy. Will Azriel get to her in time to save her or must Y/N find another way out of this situation.

Warnings: Angst. Graphic descriptions of wounds. Mentions of torture. Violence. Minor character death. Badass MC with a happy ending though :).

Notes: Most definitely should have been two parts I’m sorry for the length <3

Your eyes flickered open slowly, lids struggling to lift fully as your head agonisingly throbbed in pain. Even through your blurred vision you could tell the surroundings were unfamiliar and there wasn’t much information to gain from them other than the fact you were locked in a cell and it was dark. Very dark. The only source of light being the dim flicker of candlelight that squeezed its way through the edges of the door before you, the shadow in your cell dancing in the soft glow that broke through.

Aching, you tried to move, twitching your fingers only to be met with an unsettling numbness that travelled up your arm. Forcing your eyes to open fully, sight becoming less foggy, you glanced to your side. Your eyes drifted from your shoulder and followed the length of your dirty, blood-stained arm to your hand. Your hand, which you had only now noticed was softly trembling, was a picture of horror. A large, rusted nail had found its home in the centre of your palm. Clearly the wound had been there a while as the blood down your arm and on the floor was cracked and dry, congealed around the base of the nail where it met the skin of your hand. Alarmed, your eyes snapped to the other side, head throbbing at the fast movement. Your other hand bore the same wound. Choking back a sob, you stilled your breathing, the anxiety-born shaking your body was doing was only causing you more pain in your hands. You were pinned to the wall like a piece of art. Like you were a trophy.

A sudden wave of panic flooded your system as you recalled how you ended up here in the first place, Azriel was with you on the mission where you had been knocked out and captured. Your wide, alarmed eyes scanned the room, there was no sign of him in here. No traces or makings on the floor that showed any sign of a struggle other than that of your own. Was he safe? Or was he trapped somewhere in this building in another cell? You wondered if he had managed to slip way and if he was looking for you, if he would come save you from entrapment and carry you back to Velaris where you would be safe. Cursing yourself, you shook the thoughts from your mind, you were disposable to him. A young, newly trained spy for the night court. Azriel wouldn’t risk his safety and the safety of his court to ensure your well-being.

You prayed to the mother that Azriel wasn’t in the same situation as you. Locked up in a separate cell. From the moment you met him, when he had saved you from the beating your father was gifting you in Hewn City, you knew you couldn’t just be friends with Azriel. Over the past year of training under him you would be a fool to deny that you had fallen under his spell, those feelings that sparked in you when you first laid eyes on him the day you met only grew and grew until they were a wildfire. The countless hours spent by his side working, training and travelling for your court did nothing but amplify your school-girl crush on the spymaster. But it would be ridiculous for you to assume you ever meant anything more to him than just another person to train. He had never shown much interest in you other than when it came to training and work. In fact most days he struggled to meet your eyes, mumbling the days tasks to you as he busied his gaze elsewhere. There was no way Azriel reciprocated your feelings. But it didn’t matter now. Now you were trapped and this cruel form of punishment bestowed upon you was surely a sign you would not be making it out of here alive.

~~~

Eyes stinging with tears, you brushed all thoughts of your unrequited love aside. Now was not the time to get distracted, all your energy had to be directed into finding a way out of this situation. If Azriel was here you had to make sure you wouldn’t do anything stupid that could end up unintentionally harming him in the process. But if he was here, and wasn’t too heavily injured, you’d both at least have a chance of fighting your way out of this.

If he wasn’t…you would have to attempt this alone and in your injured state. You could wait and see what they wanted from you, see if they kept you alive but the chances of them letting you go were slim to none. You could wait, hope Azriel got back to Velaris and told Rhysand of your capture, hope that they deemed your disposable life worth saving. You didn’t see the likelihood of either option.

No. You would have to try and find a way to discover if Azriel is here and if not it was up to you to ensure your safety. To try and work your way out of this cell in a place you don’t know, guarded by an unknown number of people. The odds were not in your favour.

By this point the tears were freely flowing down your cheeks, despite attempting to hold the sounds in, small sniffles and sorrowful whimpers forced their way out of your mouth. A small part of you wondered if it would be easier to just stay here, anything they were going to do to you already was surely better than what they would unleash upon you if you tried to escape. Head pounding, you awkwardly rested it on your shoulder, the weight of it causing you arm to shift downwards a small amount, your hand seizing with pain as the nail rubbed against the open wound once more.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain. Maybe it would be easy to just shut your eyes and pray for a swift death. Hope that if you close them and sleep you won’t have to open them again. As if replying to your thoughts, you felt a small tug in your chest, an unusual sensation that you wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for the fact the lack of sound and light in your cell had made your senses very sensitive to even the smallest change. Hope bloomed in your chest, filling your body and soothing your thoughts of giving up. You would try. If it was fate that you were going to die here then at least you would go out fighting. At least you would die trying to stay alive, trying to get back to Azriel.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there since waking, coming up with scenario after scenario, plan after plan. The new sense of determination that coursed through you, prevented you from getting the rest your body so desperately craved. The pain in your hands had reduced, the unbearable stinging was replaced with a dull numbness, you weren’t sure whether that was because the wounds were actually getting better or because you had grown used to the pain. Certain that you’d have to remove the nails soon for fear of infection, you kept them in. You would play the role of their prisoner as long as you were unsure that Azriel was locked up here as well. Only when you found out he was safe would you risk removing the nails and escaping.

The screeching sound of a metal door opening in the distance broke the silence. It was the first sound you had heard that hadn’t been made by you. Your head raised quickly, ears twitching with anticipation as you tried to listen and gather what information you could. There was no speaking, but definitely the sound of multiple footsteps, gradually getting louder as they moved closer. Two? No, three pairs of feet. You were grateful for Azriel’s intense training that allowed you to come to this conclusion. Taking down one person in this situation would have been easy, even with the nails, but three? No you would bide your time. Their footsteps got louder and louder until they stopped. They had come to a halt outside your cell.

Unsure of how to handle this, you dropped your head to your shoulder again at the sound of rattling keys, softly grunting at the pain that flashed through your skull, your eyes snapped shut, pretending to still be unconscious.

The door slowly creaked open, only one pair of footsteps came into the cell, the other two people staying outside.

“I told you that you hit the bitch too hard”

It was difficult not to flinch at the gruffness of the man’s voice, but you managed to stay still, keep your breaths deep and eyes closed. He huffed, unsatisfied at your believed unconscious state, clearly having come to your cell hoping you’d be awake for him to torture some night court secrets from you. Hoping to stir you, you heard the scrape of his boot against the stone floor before you felt it collide against your ribs. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction of you waking for him only so he can undoubtedly prod and poke at you until he felt he had enough information, you lolled your head forward, hands tugging downwards against the nails. You bit back your cry of pain, hoping this action was enough for him to leave you be.

He nudged your leg with his foot a few times, body shaking but you continued to play your part. Until finally he released a disappointed sound and you heard his feet dragging towards the door.

“What did I say? The spymaster would have been the better choice than his pet, shame you let him get away.” And with that he exited your cell, you heard the sound of the lock clicking shut and the low mumble of the man say to his companion, “stay here, send for me when she wakes. Then we can try have some fun.” Muffled steps walked back towards where they originally came from. Two pairs. Only one man had stayed behind to watch the cell.

Now the cell was once again empty and you were in the safety of your own company you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, eyes flicking to the door in realisation you’d have to be quiet now there was a guard outside. Azriel was safe, he hadn’t been captured. Resisting the urge to cry once more you now hardened your emotions. You had to find your opportunity, try and find a way out of this hell before the man came back and realised you were awake. You needed to get out of this cell and get far away from here, you had never learnt to winnow so you’ll have to run, perhaps if you’re lucky you’ll have some idea where you are and where you can go to.

But first you had to sort out the predicament you were in. The nails had to come out. By this point your panic was almost unbearable, this was going to hurt. Your deep shaky breaths doing nothing to quell the rising anxiety in your body. That odd tug you felt earlier in your chest once more showed itself but in your terrified state it just felt like your heart was trying to rip itself out of your body.

~~~

It must have taken an hour or more for you to calm yourself, steady your breathing and prepare yourself for the worse. Ideally you knew you should sleep, gain some energy back that you no doubt were going to need to aid in what you were about to do. However, rest wasn’t an option. You’d already wasted enough time in your panic, sure that if you waited any longer your captor would return.

In fear of being too loud and alerting the man stood outside you moved your head down and bit into the thick collar of the Illyrian leathers you wear for your missions. And you pulled. Starting with your left hand, you pulled it forward, teeth clenching onto the leathers hard. An uncomfortable mixture of sweat and tears streamed down your face as your wound that had healed around the nail broke open, hand flying forward and off of the nail lodged in the wall. One hand was free, now for the other.

Wanting to get it over with you gripped the nail in your right hand with your really released left one, blood streaming down your arm. Once more you pulled only this time you tugged at the nail itself. Mouth falling open in a silent scream, you managed to get it out of the wall and out of your hand. A bitter chuckle slipping from your lips, these idiots locked you in a cell with nails for weapons, even with the knowledge that you were trained by the spymaster himself.

With the wounds in your palms soaked in blood, you used a nail to tear at the bottom of your leathers. Ripping two strips of material from your top, you wrapped them around your hands, pulling the ends tight with your teeth to make sure they were secure. You weren’t sure how hard you would have to fight to make your way out of this.

Once your hands were wrapped you took the nail back into your hands, flipping it from either hand to test its weight and flexing your fingers to make sure that when you needed to use them the ache in your hands wouldn’t be a hindrance.

It was time. There was one man outside and all you needed to do was to get him to open the cell and kill him. Weighing out your options until you settled on the easiest, hoping he would fall for it and so you yelled out.

“Excuse me!…. Can-… can you please help me? I need a drink.”

You made sure to sound as weak and pathetic as you could, which honestly wasn’t hard considering the situation you were in. Listening, you heard him stand to attention, having not expected your voice. You take in his hesitant steps in the direction the rest of his friends went in, clearly wanting to go get them. Desperation spiking in you that this was your only chance, you tried again.

“Please! Just some water, it’s not like I can try anything anyways.”

A string of expletives followed. Then the sound of sloshing water. Standing where the door would open you braced yourself, nail in hand and stance wide. A click of the key turning. A grunt as the heavy metal door is forced open. Light glaring through the gap. And nothing. Your nail finding its home in his throat before he could live to make another sound, body slumping onto the floor of your cell, a pool of blood forming around him.

Checking him for weapons you grabbed his sword, it was too heavy but it was better than the nail so it would have to do, hopefully you wouldn’t need to use it. The last thing you grabbed were his keys to the cell from the door, tucking them into your pocket, unsure whether they will be needed in your escape.

Stepping out into the corridor you glanced around. There was only one way out and that was the way the men from earlier had left from. You steeled yourself and pushed forwards, walking down the cell corridor and opening the door. Met with yet another corridor on the other side, you picked a direction and walked that way, thanking the mother there was no one around and praying to the cauldron that no one would come.

The architecture was unfamiliar, you were definitely in unknown territory. The halls winded on and on, the more you walked the more stressed you became, sure that if you were to go through any more of them you were going to get caught. As if the mother had taken pity on your already situation and heard your silent pleas of despair the next corner you turned had an archway that led outside. Adrenaline coursed through you as you bolted to the arch, eyes squinting in the brightness of the sun.

Now out in the open you wildly scanned your surroundings, choosing the best pathway forward to ensure you had the best chance of escape possible. It was busy outside, stalls full of market goods, with people bustling about them. Afraid of being caught you hid your bloodied arms and sword behind your back but thankfully when you scanned over the crowd you didn’t lay eyes on anyone who looked like a threat.

Hesitating, you were lost on which direction to go in, until out the corner of your eye you caught a merchant’s horse and carriage, a large chest situated on the back. Perfect. Skillfully, you snuck past the crowd of people gathered together, all stretching their necks to look at something you couldn’t see, and you opened the chest. It was empty. At this point you were grinning widely, and you hopped into the chest, hands throbbing as you gripped the edge to haul yourself up into it before pulling the lid to, enclosing yourself in darkness.

You hadn’t been in the chest long when the owners had returned and thankfully they had not opened the chest and found you, bloodied and dirty hiding inside. The carriage pulled away and you have to admit you weren’t the most comfortable, already sore head banging against the wall of the chest with every bump in the road, but it was a whole lot better than being inside of that cell. You didn’t know where this carriage was heading to, but you would catch a lift as long as possible before you had to get out and gather your bearings. Exhaustion overwhelmed you as the adrenaline slowly dripped from your system and despite your best efforts to stay awake, you could stop your eyes drooping as sleep eventually caught up with you.

~~~

You woke up to an overwhelming bright light and a petrified scream. Startling, you sat up in shock and attempted to take in your surroundings, the lid of the chest had been opened and you were staring into the face of a horribly distressed woman who was clearly not expecting to find you inside.

“Shhhh… it’s ok, I’m sorry. I’m leaving” you tried to sooth her as you speedily hopped out of the chest, taking your sword with you. Turning in a circle you took note of the inn before you and the dense forest that surrounded the area.

Unfortunately, the sight of your blood-stained arms and the glint of your sharp edged sword did nothing to calm the merchant lady who was screaming bloody murder. You backed off, arms raised in surrender, eyes travelling to the group of angry men standing outside of an inn, whose attention had been caught by the wailing woman. You cursed, brain trying to come up with excuses you could give to get them off your back so you could be on your way but your stream of thoughts was interrupted by the ringing of bells that had started in the distance, presumably where you had just escaped from. Fuck. The carriage hadn’t taken you as far as you’d have hoped.

“They ringing those for you sweetheart?” One of the men asked, cracking his knuckles together after having seen the panic flash through your eyes over the sound of the bells, “we’d get a pretty penny for bringing you in if that’s the case.”

At this point you weren’t even going to stop and try talk your way out of this. Azriel had always said your tongue would get you killed one day. So you didn’t only thing you could think of. You ran. Bolting towards the forest behind you, you moved as quickly as you could, muscles burning after your limbs had been squeezed together in the chest for a little too long. Shouts broke out behind you and you knew that they had followed. The haunting sound of the bells still carried in the wind, a reminder of the place you had come from. A reminder of where you’ll be stuck at once more if you don’t get yourself out of this. That is if the brutes don’t bring you in dead.

You run and you run, throat squeezing in agony at every breath. But no matter how fast you could run it was no use, you could hear their jeers and taunts getting louder, voices turning gleeful as they realised there was no way you could get away. Adamant you weren’t going to get captured again after putting in all that effort of getting out you didn’t give up, flying through the trees until your feet dragged you to a halt. You were met with the rocky face of a cliff.

Survival instincts still being in control of your body, you grabbed the rocks, trying to pull yourself up the rocky feature in order to scramble to the top to get away from the brutes chasing you, but the flash of agony up that started in your damaged palms and flashed up your arms reminded you that you were injured. Your hands shot open at the burst of pain and you fell off the side of the cliff and onto the floor. Scrambling to your feet, you turned back round to face the forest and gripped your sword as tight as your hands allowed. No more running. You were going to have to fight your way out.

~~~

Snarling at the men as they approached did nothing to deter them, horrible grins plastered on their faces as they rounded in on you. Even if you weren’t as injured and exhausted as you were you were certain you still wouldn’t be able to take them all, not by yourself.

The boldest of the men, the one who had called you out outside of the inn, lunged forward, sword swinging towards you. You jumped backwards, reactions sluggish as the sword caught your arm and your back slammed against the rock face behind, a shout of pain came from your lips. Insistent on the fact you won’t go back to the cell, you clenched your jaw and advanced, raising your sword. You would die here sooner than being a captive of the men who took you again.

Azriel.

The memory of him flashed through your eyes. Tears of frustration falling down your cheeks at the thought of the man you were never able to have. Once more thankful that he hadn’t been captured with you, thankful that you wouldn’t see the disappointment on his face as he realised that even after all his training you were still too weak to fight your way out of this. His name, a final prayer on your lips as you hope that whoever he finds himself stuck with next does better than you had.

Then you fight. The world around a blur of swords, spears and limbs, unsure whether you were actually hitting anyone you swung your sword around you, parrying blows and kicking people back. The holes in your hands cracking open and bleeding once more, blood causing your grip to slip, unable to keep a firm hold on the hilt.

It only took one more move from your attackers and your sword went flying. Instinctively your hands shot to your leathers expecting to find your holsters for your daggers, only to remember they were stripped from you before you woke in your cell. You didn’t even have the nails that were lodged in your hands with you, both left in the cell you escaped from, one in the throat of one of your captors.

The hilt of one of the men’s sword caught you in the back. Weaponless, you fell to your knees in defeat before you closed your eyes. This was it. They would either kill you or take you back and there was nothing more you could do but shut your eyes as to avoid seeing the gleeful smiles of victory on their faces as they enact their final punishments. Your ears rang, their voices all blurred into one mass of yelling. The bells. All you could hear was the bells as you gripped your head, crying out and waiting for the death blow.

But it never came. You were aware of the change in atmosphere around you, maybe even aware of the screams that had began breaking out. But you stayed focussed on holding your head, fingers plunged into your ears as you sat on the floor, rocking backwards and forwards. The haunting sounds of the bells calling for your death lingered. It seemed as if they were getting louder and louder until they stopped altogether at the call of your name.

“Y/N”

Hands grabbed you. Pulling your hands from your head. A crack in their voice that must have been born from the realisation of the state your hands were in.

“Y/N can you hear me?”

It was Azriel. Still unable to open your eyes a you laughed. The mother worked in strange ways but you never could have predicted that death would arrive to you in the form of Azriel. Your final moments met with the soothing tones of his deep voice. And so with limbs like lead, body tired and unmoving you allowed yourself to drift off for the final time, a whisper upon your lips that was met with a cry.

“I’m ready”

~~~

Your pain had returned. The wounds on your palms so unbearable it drew a whine from your lips. Pain so intense it was clear you had somehow survived. You were in a bed, you could feel the soft sheets against your back and the weight of a blanket above you. The information did nothing to quell the fear inside you. Fear that when you opened your eyes you would be back with your captors. Your heart rate increased, the muscle thudding in your chest and you pressed your eyes together so hard it hurt.

“Hey…hey, don’t do that, it’s ok you’re safe”

Azriel’s voice broke through the silence. Your ever increasing heartbeat stilled. You were safe. You jumped upright, eyes snapping open. Azriel not expecting this fell backwards into his chair in shock before realising what was happening and was then rushing forward to steady you as you swayed from the fogginess that had found its home in your head.

“Woah careful now, it’s alright it’s just me. You’re home” his voice shaky as he moved his hands from where they were gripping either side of your shoulders, running them gently down your arms before they settled over your bandaged hands which were laid in front of you.

Brain frog still present, you just couldn’t put together how you got there. Azriel wasn’t with you when you were captured, “how… how did you-“

Already knowing the question being asked he promptly replied, “the second they took you I went straight back to Rhysand for help. It was hard ignoring the… the need to get you back as quickly as possible but I knew I’d be stupid to do it on my own,” he swallowed hard, as if the subject of your capture was a difficult one for him, “I tried to tell you we were coming, find out where you were I tried to tell you through…well I tried to tell you.”

He took in another deep breath, “ and then we found out where you were, only when we got there the bells were ringing and you were gone. We were too late, you’d gotten out on your own because you thought we weren’t coming,” at this point pearlescent tears were flowing down his cheeks, “I didn’t give up and I kept searching for you and when I finally found you and you were knelt before all those men covered in blood…I…I.”

Even though you were the one who had been captured and pinned to the wall, and chased down by a hoard of angry men, watching Azriel break down in front of you because he thought he had failed you had to be one of the worst things you’ve ever experienced.

“Azriel,” you croaked, throat dry from lack of water, “the only reason I’m here now is because of you. The thought of you is what kept me alive in that cell and it was your training which was the reason I was able to escape,” it was at this point that you were sobbing along with the spymaster, “and I know for damn certain that I definitely wouldn’t be here now if you hadn’t found me in those woods. So thank you Azriel, thank you for saving my life.”

You slowly lifted a shaking, bandaged hand to his cheek, thumb brushing away his tears, pain shooting up your arm at the action but you didn’t care. You only cared that this beautiful man before you hadn’t given up on you. That all the while you were captured he had been searching for you. Trying to get a message to you. That all the time in the cell you had spent thinking of him, he was thinking of you too.

His lips softly brushed over your bandage, right where the hole of your palm was stinging underneath. It was an intimate moment, your wrapped hand against his face was possibly the most you’d ever touched him aside from training.

Perhaps out of fear of that you weren’t worthy of Azriel, that he couldn’t possibly like you as much as you’ve grown to love him over the past year, you drew your hand away from his face, ending the moment. Agonisingly tearing your eyes away from his perfect face to settle them on your ruined hands which were now uncomfortably laid on your lap.

“So, uh. Did you find my replacement?” You asked nervously, dreading what he was going to say in response but knowing you’d rather get the pain of it over with sooner rather than later. Especially since the feel of your hand on his cheek had ignited that odd feeling in your chest.

For the second time since awakening, you had Azriel shocked, “r-replace you?”

“I failed right? I got captured and if it wasn’t for you I’d be dead right now. Surely you can see I wasn’t made for this, that I should just go back to my father-“

His eyes now full of fury, Azriel cut you off, “You Y/N L/N are irreplaceable,” he moved his body so he was sat at the edge of the bed, hands holding onto yours, “you are the strongest woman I know and there is no one, no one else, that I could wish to be at my side more than I wish for it to be you.” The rage in his eyes settled, morphing into an emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on and he continued, “in the past year of being together you have changed me as a person more than I care to admit and I can not, no I will not, carry on living my life without you by my side. You are irreplaceable… because you are mine.”

That was all you had ever dreamed of hearing and you just couldn’t believe it was true. Azriel felt the same way for you as you did for him, and so in fear of it being a cruel dream made up by your conscious, or afraid he would come to his scenes and change his mind, you crashed your lips to his.

Mouths connecting in firey passion, you poured every ounce of love and affection you had locked away in your heart the past year into it, hoping Azriel would understand just how much he was yours as you were his. He groaned into the kiss, deepening it as he gripped your face in his hands. You were unsure what to do with your damaged hands, still placed in your lap, but that didn’t matter, nothing about this kiss was awkward or painful. It was as if his lips were made for you, fitting together with yours like it was the missing piece of a puzzle and every part of you wanted to jump right into whatever this was between you and explore every single part of it.

It was only when the two of you needed to breathe that you broke away from the kiss. Still tangled in a sweet embrace, you gazed into his eyes, now certain that unreadable emotion you had seen swimming in them earlier was love. And it was this realisation of his love that caused the tugging sensation, the one that had been occurring in your chest since you found yourself in that cell, to finally pull free. It dull knot that you hadn’t even known was there, morphed into a beautiful golden thread which linked you to Azriel.

Azriel who’s gorgeous smile bloomed at the sight of you realising you were looking into the eyes of your mate, the person created for you. Your equal. And as he began to litter kisses all over your face and neck he mumbled in your ear the sweetest words you have ever heard, “my beautiful, irreplaceable mate.”

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #sarah j maas

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