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aichablogsbeauty · 2 months
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Glowing Makeup Tutorial for Spring
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florencemtrash · 4 months
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The Artificer: Part I - Azriel x Reader
Warnings: None
✨Based on this ask ✨
Masterlist of Masterlists
"Azriel flipped through the information in his mind like a picture book: She specializes in crafting fae-bonded weapons using autoimmune magic. Brilliant, capable, and loyal - only a fool would underestimate her."
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The air burned with unknown magic, mingled with the heady smell of smoke and metal and something else… something sweet and clean. Azriel couldn’t put his finger on it as he followed behind his brothers, weaving through the packed, but homey workshop. 
Bookshelves filled with carefully attended tomes on woodworking, metallurgy, glassblowing, and more lined one of the walls, some faint traces of magic keeping them safe from the dust and soot that tended to accumulate in the corners. 
The other wall was decorated with an assortment of keys - brass, gold, silver, steel, even glass twinkled in the faelight, like a hundred pairs of eyes winking. When Cassian reached for one, the metal began to glow and spark, spitting out thin bursts of magic that smarted until the Illyrian had the sense to pull away.  
When Helion first offered your weapon-smithing services to Rhys, he had sung your praises so loudly that Nyx had awoken from his nap, whining incessantly for his father to rock him back to sleep.
Originally born to noble parents in the Dawn Court. She moved to Day thirty years before Amarantha’s rule to escape an ill-suited marriage and has been quietly designing weapons for Helion ever since. She specializes in crafting fae-bonded weapons using autoimmune magic. Brilliant, capable, and loyal - only a fool would underestimate her.
Azriel flipped through the information in his mind like a picture book, cycling through the lines Helion had spoken and his own independent research. He could recite your birthday, the names of your parents, your grandparents, your older brother who’d been killed in the war against Hybern, and the day you graduated university. He even knew the planned date of your wedding to some pompous Lordling from Summer. 
What he didn’t know was what you looked like, and he wasn’t sure what to expect. 
Perhaps he’d expected someone more refined and regal - you were of noble blood after all… but then they rounded the corner and your soot-stained face popped out from beneath the workbench, purple lens goggles magnifying your eyes to vibrant proportions. 
You flipped the goggles up, resting them on your head like a crown.
Azriel blinked. 
Strands of hair curled around your fire-blown eyes, framed by soft skin that had been spared the worst of the soot by your goggles. You looked like you had stepped out of a flame - strong and resilient as steel.
You were absolutely breathtaking.
“Oh shit.” You quietly cursed, bouncing to your feet. 
You chucked the gloves to the side, hastily wiping away at your cheeks before dipping into a perfect curtsy. You were an actress caught in the spotlights after an ill-timed curtain opening, and you needed to make up for the poor first impression. You hastily slapped on the costume of the High Born Lady, feeling every etiquette lesson your mother had hammered into you slide over your limbs until you were a puppet on strings. 
“My apologies, my Lords. I lost track of time.” The words rolled out automatically, perfectly timed and perfectly pleasant, “Forgive me.”
Azriel frowned. He didn’t like the change that had just taken place. 
You held one hand artfully over your chest, the other flowing out to the side as you remained frozen in your bow. His eyes traced over the curve of your neck, catching on the sliver of skin that peeked out from beneath your work shirt, then down the slope of your sturdy shoulders and arms - strong and limber after decades of hammering away at glass and steel. 
The High Lord of the Night Court waved off the comment, a charming smile brightening his face as he hoisted you out of your curtsy. If he cared about getting soot on his fine clothes, he didn’t show it.
“There’s no need for any apologies. It’s a pleasure to meet you Y/n. Helion’s told me much about you.”  
You blushed, subtly brushing back the hair that stuck to your forehead and wishing you’d taken the time to clean yourself up… maybe wash your face properly and change into cleaner clothes.
“My brothers-” The High Lord swung his arm out in a slash of Night Court velvet, “Cassian and Azriel.” 
You had to keep yourself from sighing. They were all terribly attractive. It almost wasn’t fair.
“The pleasure is all mine, High Lord,” You curtsied again, “And Lords.” You appended gracefully.
The High Lord was as sensual and charismatic as everyone said with his twinkling violet eyes and perfect smirk - the kind of smirk that announced to the world that he was very aware of the effect he had on males and females alike. 
Your eyes flickered down to the tailored velvet suit. It clung to his body impeccably, carving out his broad shoulders and trim waist. How he wasn’t stifling in the heat was beyond you. The furnace roared a little louder, as if to push the point. 
The Lord of Bloodshed - Cassian as he was called - possessed a wilder beauty. He was all hard-cut lines and cords of muscle with a faint brush of stubble along his jaw that suited him well. 
But the Shadowsinger. He was the one you had trouble dragging your eyes away from. There was something heartbreakingly solemn about him, like a hero plucked out of a fairytale bound to end in tragedy. The same boyish joy that touched his brothers seemed to have skipped over him, and you couldn’t help but wonder why. In fact he seemed… displeased, and your heart began to beat a little faster.
“Call me Rhys.” The High Lord winked, drawing your attention away from the dark and silent Shadowsinger, “Any friend of Helion’s is a friend of mine, and I like my friends to call me Rhys. It keeps me humble.” 
Cassian snorted, “Sure it does.” 
He shoved past his brother, settling into a comically wide stance. You tried to disguise your surprise and confusion when he leaned down further to be eye level with you. His eyes twinkled with mischief, as if he’d caught onto the slip in your perfectly tailored costume and he wanted to rip it off and burn it to the ground.
“The name’s Cassian,” He held out his hand for you to shake, “Or Cass,” He tilted his head to the side, deep in thought, “Or Bastard brute, as my wife so lovingly calls me.” 
You snorted, then froze in horror, one hand flying up to slap over your mouth. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” 
Cassian tipped his head back and roared with laughter. It was the kind of sound powerful enough to fill a tavern and made you feel as giddy as three glasses of wine.
Azriel tamped down the jealousy that flared to life in his chest upon seeing that Cassian was the first to make you laugh. Not that he would have been able to make you laugh as easily as breathing… but he could dream. 
Your eyes were blown wide, confusion racking your body as every etiquette lesson crumbled into a pile of dust. Your mother had warned you of what to do with males that were too forward, too cold, too dramatic, too charming. But Cassian was a different breed entirely - he was too casual, too friendly and normal. It took you aback.
Rhys rolled his eyes. Leave it to Cassian to make a High Born Lady crack as easily as fresh ice on the Sidra. 
Cassian tapped his chest, looking quite satisfied with himself, “There’s no need for bowing or Court pleasantries. Rhysand’s the only one of us with any real house training anyhow. Prissy little Lordling.” 
“Hey.”
“You know it’s true, Rhys. You’re wearing fucking velvet.” 
Rhys snorted, “Don’t attack me because I have some sense of style.”
You swiveled between the two of them, uncertain of how to continue. “Well I-” You stammered, taking a step back and straightening your shoulders. 
Your mother’s words rang through your mind: Don’t slouch. 
“Apologies, for my… manners.” You finished lamely. 
“Good manners are wasted on Cassian,” Azriel said. Gods, even his voice was tragically beautiful, like the sound of rain drumming against a window, or the crisp call of wind when Autumn sighs its last breath and gives way to Winter. “And Rhysand too, actually.” He added, ignoring the sounds of protest from Rhys and Cassian. 
His heartbeat picked up when your eyes fell on him completely.
“Are they wasted on you?” If they were going to act so… uncouth, perhaps that gave you a pass, “Or did I suffer through endless hours preparing for my debutante ball for nothing?” 
Azriel tilted his head. He tried to imagine you as a debutante, paraded around to various suitors in a puffy dress like the gods-awful one Feyre had been shoved into for her first wedding, and it left a sour taste in his mouth. But when he tried imagining you in Night Court attire - something blue - he couldn’t help but find that he quite liked the scene he’d conjured up for himself. He smiled - a faint and quiet smile that made your heart go still.
Cassian and Rhys gaped when their brother quietly closed the distance between you two and bowed. He was the picture of grace - deadly, beautiful grace.
Azriel took your hand in his, reveling in the feeling of your calloused fingertips against his scarred palm, and gently brushed his lips against your skin. 
“No.” He murmured, casting his eyes up at you. You melted, falling into the molten sea of his hazel eyes, and it wasn’t because of the heat, “Good manners are not wasted on me.” He finished, straightening up and taking a step back.  
He didn’t look disappointed anymore. If anything he looked… amused and… at ease. 
You tried to imagine him smiling - a true smile full of teeth and unburdened joy - and found you quite liked the image you’d crafted for yourself.
You tilted your head to the side, trying to disguise just how much he’d affected you. One kiss and a look and you were a goner. How silly of you. 
“That was quite good. I’ll give you that.” 
Azriel tipped his head in a subtle bow, “Thank you, My Lady.” 
You scoffed. No one had called you by any proper title in centuries. 
“Shall we begin with you, High Lord?” You asked him first out of propriety, missing the faint frown on Azriel’s face. 
He knew he shouldn’t take anything personally. This was a business meeting first and foremost, but that didn’t stop the flicker of jealousy from budding in his stomach whenever you laughed at Rhysand’s teasing or whenever he leaned just a little too close to look at the sketches you drew. The only moment of satisfaction he felt was when you slapped Rhysand’s hand away from the wall, choosing to pull the samples from the chestnut shelves yourself before taking notes on the styles he preferred. 
Are you ok? Rhysand asked, raising his eyebrows. It was Cassian’s turn now and The Lord of Bloodshed sat beside you, carefully watching your hand drawn sketches come to life.
I’m fine.
You don’t look fine, brother. Rhys said with a smirk, You look like you want to murder Cass. 
Azriel wiped the faintest hints of emotion from his face, turning away from Rhys to look around the workroom. 
Everything was warm and coated in soft orange light from the raging forge. It felt like the moment before the sun sinks into the horizon, when the world is as syrupy and comforting as caramel. Chestnut bookshelves lined the wall, filled with as many trinkets, plates of armour, and weapons as books. A long workbench ran the length of the room, neat stacks of paper punctuated by gleaming blades of obsidian, moonstone, and steel. It was where you currently sat, outlined by the fire like some angel sent down from the heavens.
Azriel’s eyes stuck on one blade in particular, carefully laid out on a bolt of midnight blue velvet. Its bronze handle gave away to gold threaded steel sharp enough to cut light and shadow. The sheets had been folded over and hammered so many times that thin rivers of radiance twisted and turned down the blade, mirroring the runes that had been painstakingly etched along its spine.
“Lord Azriel?” His head snapped to the side, following your lyrical voice. You’d soundlessly made your way around the table without him noticing and now stood at his side, “Do you like anything you see?” 
Azriel froze. From this close up he could see the faintest gold flecks in your eyes, as though a forge was burning there too, some piece of you always hammering away at an anvil… but maybe that was just the hammering of his heart.
Cassian coughed. Loudly. Rhysand smirked, elbowing his brother, but Cassian was successful. Whatever spell had come over the Shadowsinger broke and color dusted his cheeks.
“It’s just Azriel - or Az. Either works.” He was technically a Lord… emphasis on technically. “Could you tell me about this one?” He pointed to the brilliant blade, hating the sight of his ruined hand so close to it. 
You picked it up with ease, spinning it around your body with a strong grace that made Azriel’s breath catch. You weren’t the most skilled swordsman by any means, but you knew enough. After all, if you were going to spend your life making swords you’d be damned if you couldn’t wield one properly.
“This one,” You said with a smile full of pride, “Is Sunseeker.” The blade began to glow, content to once again be in the hands of its master, “It took me decades to figure out how to bind weapons to one master, but once I did - well - I thought if anyone should have that kind of weapon first it should be me.” 
To your surprise, a faint smile graced Azriel’s lips. It was such a minor display, but it brightened the air around him. Even his shadows began to emerge, wrapping around his arms and inching towards you like a moth to a flame.
Sunseeker truly was a work of art, beautiful and deadly in equal measure. 
Cass whistled low, coming closer to admire it. “How does weapon binding work?” He asked curiously. 
Your eyes lit up mischievously, “Would you like me to demonstrate?” 
Cassian had just enough time to say “yes” and stretch out his hands before you handed him the blade and he dropped like a stone. 
“CAULDRON FUCK ME!” 
Rhysand sputtered, doubling over in laughter. Azriel snorted, a hand flying up to cover his mouth in surprise. They watched Cassian fall to his knees on the floor, grasping the handle of the blade that felt two thousand pounds heavier in his hands. 
You looked rather pleased with yourself. 
Cassian growled, bracing his feet on the floor and pulling up so hard Azriel could see the veins pop out of his neck. “Fucking hell.” He said through gritted teeth.
“Come on, Cass. Get up.” Rhysand teased, shoving his brother with the toe of his boot.
Cassian kicked him in the knee, but from his position the blow didn’t land properly, “I would if I could, you son of a b-”
“Don’t talk about my mother like that.”
“Fuck you.” 
“Just. Get. Up.” 
“I. Can’t. You piece of shit. I can’t let go of this gods-damned sword.” 
Azriel shifted closer to you, heavily amused as Rhys leaned down and grabbed hold of the hilt. His signature charming smile slid off his face.
“What the fuck-” He pulled once. Twice. Tried to pry his fingers off the hilt, but he couldn’t let go no matter how hard he tried. It was as though he’d been glued to a boulder.
Cassian smirked, “I told you.” 
You smiled up at the Shadowsinger as the pair continued to bicker, stretching up on your toes to whisper in his ear, “Hardly anyone knows about what I do so I have my fun when I can.” 
He fought not to shiver, feeling your breath curl around him as intimately as his shadows. Azriel chuckled - a low rumble in his chest that reverberated through your bones. 
“And how many have fallen victim to your tricks?” He asked. His voice was as smooth as butter and honey to your ears. “Just three. Your brothers and Helion.” 
“Helion?”
You nodded.
“I would have paid good money to see that.”
You grinned, leaning closer to him. Without a second thought, Azriel leaned in as well, as if he were a light-starved flower and you were the sun.
“Sunseeker is bound to me - tied to my magical signature and my blood. To me, she’s as light as a feather. To anyone else, she may as well be a mountain.” 
“And why can’t they let go?” 
“It’s another trick. If anyone tries to go for my weapon, they’ll be brought down to the ground and I’ll have enough time to kill them first.” You cleared your throat, “Not that I’m a naturally violent person but… well it doesn’t hurt to be smart about it.” 
“I would agree with you.” Az smiled once again, “Incredible.” He whispered, looking you in the eye, “You’re incredible.” 
You shifted on your feet, clasping your hands behind your back and looking away so he wouldn’t see how much his praise affected you.
“If you two are done flirting with one another, can you please help us?” Cassian grumbled. Rhys and Cass had both given up, opting to sit cross legged on the floor like a pair of scolded children.
You hurried over, muttering sheepish apologies. You’d overstepped and you knew it but… well they just seemed so casual with one another and with you that you’d forgotten they were highly powerful fae first, and your clients second.
The spell broke the moment you touched the sword, Cass and Rhys groaning in relief and jumping to their feet. You polished off the sword and placed it back on the table. 
“Ta da.” You wiggled your fingers. Cass huffed and Rhys cleaned off his clothes with a sweep of his hand. 
Az leaned down and spoke in your ear, hazel eyes glowing, “I think it’s my turn now.” 
You shivered, feeling both small and powerful under the weight of his gaze. Azriel decided to forgo the chair, choosing instead to kneel beside you. One arm rested on the back of your seat, hovering dangerously close to your shoulder blades as you repeated the same questions you’d asked Cassian and Rhys.
You jotted down notes diligently and Azriel took the time to admire your neat and simple handwriting. Your hand stilled over the paper as a tendril of darkness curled around your fingers. Azriel sat so close that your head swam with his scent. He smelled like winter mountains after rainfall - crisp and clean like a breath of fresh air. His shadows had similarly begun to wrap around you like an Autumn breeze, slipping through your hair and around your neck like they wanted to feel the pulse of your beating heart. 
Azriel swore under his breath, pulling them back as quickly as he could, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” 
“I like them.” You said quietly, registering the shock in Azriel’s hazel eyes. You quickly went back to your sketch, “They remind me of home.” 
As a final step you took their measurements - the length of their arm, shoulder width, the distance between their hips and knees. Measuring Cassian and Rhysand went without incident, although they did poke fun when you pulled out a stepladder.
“It’s not my fault you’re all so ridiculously tall,” You grumbled, stretching out the tape across Azriel’s shoulders, “Did your mother fuck a tree?” 
The Illyrian snorted, “I wish.” He flinched once the words left his mouth, his smile twisting into a grimace.
“Hmmm?” You hummed curiously. Azriel felt your breath brush against the nape of his neck and shivered. 
“A tree might have treated her better than my…” Azriel trailed off. 
You’d been too young to attend Court when you still lived with your parents in Dawn. But even so, whispers of the Night Court were always followed by discussions of Amarantha’s whore and the Illyrian bastards.
His wings drooped and from the corner of your eye you saw Cassian’s gaze fall to the ground. Even Rhys bristled, the charisma sliding off his skin and replaced by something colder.
He loved his brothers more than himself, and the lack of a blood connection had never minimized the fact that they were his family - his legitimate family. He liked you, but one wrong word about his brothers and he would take his business elsewhere, no matter how talented you might be.
Azriel dared to glance at you, wondering if some part of you believed in the truth - that they were bastards unworthy of attention and respect in the eyes of true high fae nobles, or anyone for that matter. Even in your mussed up clothes you were radiant, carrying yourself with a confidence and grace that came from birth as much as it came from upbringing. 
You were royalty… and Azriel suddenly didn’t seem worthy of your attention, even though he was craving it right now.
Your lips tightened into a flat line, anger flaring up in your deep eyes, but you swallowed that anger and channeled the energy into making the brothers laugh once again, “Well I’ll go down on a limb and tell you trees are fantastic lovers.” You said, followed by a cheeky wink. 
Cassian turned to look at you, absolutely dumbfounded. Rhys was similarly shocked, violet eyes twinkling and mouth twisting into a smile. But it was Azriel who broke the silence first, tipping his head back and laughing so hard that his shoulders shook from the effort. The sound rang through the workshop, like the sound of rain falling. Cassian and Rhysand joined soon after, clutching their stomachs and leaning against chairs and tables for support. 
You bowed dramatically, arms sweeping to the sides like a tropical bird, “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all evening.” 
And Azriel took that very seriously. After the sketches were finalized and the blood samples were collected to be bound to metal, Azriel hung close to you, quietly begging Rhys with his eyes to stay longer. They wouldn’t be back for another six months after this. 
Rhysand raised his eyebrow knowingly at Cassian and The Lord of Bloodshed smirked. 
“Y/n,” Rhys said, voice dripping with persuasion, “Are you hungry? Perhaps you’d like to join my family for dinner?” 
You blushed at the invitation, “That is very kind of you, but I think I’ll stay here and work on these further.” You shook the papers in your hand, “I don’t want to forget anything.”
“At least let us bring you food then,” Cassian jumped in quickly, “Az! Why don’t you keep our favorite artificer company until we come back.”
Azriel blanched, stiffening up like a board. He could admire you in the company of his brothers when you were distracted, but he would be hopeless if left alone. “Cass, I don’t think-”
“Oh, I don’t want to take up-” You stammered.
“What a wonderful idea,” Rhys clapped Cassian on the back, all but shoving him back the way they’d originally came, “We’ll be back soon!” 
The door hissed closed behind them and you blushed, daring to glance over at the Shadowsinger. At least he also looked flustered. You could find comfort and hope in that. 
“I guess it’s just us now.” You murmured. 
His eyes softened, taking in your figure, “I guess so.” 
You spent hours talking with him that night, both of you leaning over the tables as you discussed your work and what your life in Dawn had been like. Your parents’ marriage had been arranged in haste after a drunken one-sight stand resulted in your brother’s conception. There was little love to begin with, but after his still-birth, whatever affection had existed between them vanished into thin air. You’d been born seventy-three years later - a true born noble in name only. Your parents never hated you, although sometimes you wished they did. Their indifference was a unique pain that you’d never been able to shake off.
But Azriel… Azriel was anything but indifferent. He hung onto every word like it was liquid gold dripping from your lips, and you did the same. Clutching what he said like pearls and committing them to memory. 
You couldn’t hide your disappointment when Cassian and Rhys finally reappeared four hours later. “Oh.” You whispered, pulling your hands away from where they brushed against his on the table. 
“Apologies, it took so long.” Rhys grinned. 
He didn’t look sorry at all. In fact, he looked very pleased to see you and Az pressed together, sharing the same seat despite the empty chairs scattered about the room.
Azriel was less pleased and Rhys didn’t miss the faint frown on his brother’s lips as you begrudgingly reclaimed a seat of your own, nestled between Azriel and Cassian. He also didn’t miss when one of Azriel’s shadows curled around the leg of your chair and tugged you closer to him. 
You listened to the brothers talk. Rhys and Cassian carried the weight of the conversation, as they usually did, bickering over lunch leftovers and proudly discussing the progress their mates were making with their respective projects - Feyre with her art studio and Nesta with her Valkyries. Azriel’s shadows shrank away, a glint in his eye dimming when the subject came up. 
You stole a glance, watching him carefully. When he caught you staring you smiled and some of that glimmer came back. 
“Can I see you again?” Azriel asked quietly once you’d finished eating. Rhys had already cleaned up the food scraps with a snap of his fingers and now lingered by the door, speaking with Cassian.
You looked puzzled, “Won’t you be here when the swords are ready? It shouldn’t take longer than six months. Maybe less. And I can still make adjustments then, if you don’t find it to your liking.”
Azriel shook his head, smiling softly, “No I meant before that.” He glanced at his brothers - his lovingly overbearing, nosy, matchmaking brothers, “Just us again.” 
Your heart skipped a beat, tempo quickening after the momentary stillness. “Oh.” You breathed, “I would like that. I would like that very much.” 
“Good.” Azriel took your hands in his, feeling the rough calluses of your palm against his scarred skin. He pressed a kiss to both hands, then looked at you, “Until next time then.” 
Azriel could never regret meeting you that day, nor could he completely regret seeing you the next week… and the week after that… and the week after that. He burrowed underground with you, sought after the warmth of your home and of your heart like a moth to a flame, daring to brush closer and closer with every beat of his wings. 
But it had been a mistake to visit you so often, and so brazenly. Here, in the safety of your workshop, he forgot there were fires that were not so nurturing and lovely. And he forgot that there were others who sought your power and not just your company.
Next Chapter ->
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llolianarchives · 7 months
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The Prefect and The Draconia
A short overview of the Ramshackle prefect and their strange (but kind) horned fellow friend: as seen through the eyes of outsiders.
(A/N: #Malleyuu notes with an OC but feel free to project. We're all delulu here ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭ )
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His Henchman is crazy.
Or at least, that's what Grim thinks when he's woken up at sunrise to Yue's bizarre ramblings. Something about the time being 1 AM, then fireflies at night, and a tall, horned figure – is what he takes from their babble amidst his own groans and pleas to return to sleep. He'd think them delirious from slumber, mumbling about another dream, if it weren't for the way Yue's eyes sparkled with genuine interest. Grim yields, in the end, for one of the many things he's learned about his reliable servant is that they can be awfully enthusiastic when it comes to this world's curiosities.
“He told me to call him whatever I want,” Yue continues, ruffling Grim's fur dry with a clean rag. Before he could insert magnificent ideas of his own, they beat him to it with a soft smile on their lips.
“I'm thinking of naming him Nyx: the personification of the night. What do you think?”
“What? Because he only shows up at night?” Like some wacky cryptid.
“Yup.”
He hears his henchman forgo the brush, letting it clatter loudly against the table.
“Hm... Nyx, huh...” Grim falls into thought, testing the name on his tongue like premium quality tuna. He doesn't even notice how Yue ties the striped ribbon around his neck. Triumphant, he turns to them with a grin.
“That's not half-bad, Henchman! It's cool and mysterious. Not as cool and mysterious as me, of course, but I'd say it's a close second!”
“Naturally. I wouldn't dare bestow a name mightier than the Great Grim's.”
Despite the stream of praise his henchman delivers (which he pleasantly basks in), Yue eventually derails, returning to speak of the horned man yet again. What Grim's superior brain gathers is this: One, this Nyx guy is super weird. Two, Yue's interest has been piqued like no other before.
He'll demand some omurice as payment for his counsel later on.
. . .
Malleus has made a friend.
The news was dropped onto Lilia's lap rather unceremoniously when one night, the Young Lord—having just returned from another evening excursion, went to sit with him in the Diasomnia lounge. This time, however, the quaintest of smiles adorned his face... It was an unusual sight but certainly not unwelcome. And much like any doting parent, his curiosity led him to ask.
Malleus had replied with a question of his own.
"Lilia, do you know of the Prefect that resides in Ramshackle Dorm?"
"Yue? Why yes, of course. I've spoken to them once or twice. They made quite a show during the Ceremony."
Yue— Lilia soon comes to learn— is completely unaware of Malleus's identity as a prince and a figure of authority, of power. As such, they bear no fear for him, even going so far as to bestow him a pet name, of all things.
(“Nyx? As in the night spirit? How fitting.")
Thus began the pattern of Lilia covering for Malleus's nighttime absence, not daring to ask nor scold when the prince would return in strange and stranger states.
When he would return to the dormitory partially caked with dirt and mud (a consequence of helping the prefect with their little garden of life.) Or when he would return with a box of homemade cake, a pretty stone from their walks, a drawing of him supposedly made by the prefect's beast, and with inquiries of the complexities of human nature.
Sometimes, Lilia can't help but feel a bit guilty, constantly boring witness to Silver and Sebek's searches into the night.
Yet that sliver of guilt fades, in the end, when Malleus smiles more often than before, when he approaches Lilia in the winter with the request of delivering a Holiday Card.
As he watches the magicless human rush into their abode, card in hand, ghosts and Grim awaiting their entrance...
he has never felt prouder and more grateful for fate.
. . .
From a distance, Vil watches.
He watches as the feared Briar Prince lets a small, feeble human talk his ear off, calm and unresisting, a hand on his chin as he ponders along Yue's barrage of words. He gives the prefect full reign of the conversation. He lets himself be taken away by their stories and details. He lets them speak, which they do.
Just after the horrors, highs, lows, and thrills of the VDC, the two chat as if nothing even happened. The onslaught of it all feels like a fever dream to Vil. First, the mental toll of overblotting, then their loss to RSA's nursery rhyme performance, and now the shocking reveal of Yue (innocent, bold, mundane little Yue) and Malleus Draconia's relationship.
He isn't even sure what to make of it. They're clearly friends, yet Vil can't bring himself to chalk it up to just that. His years and years of showbiz cinema has taught him the ins and outs of body language. He watches. He sees:
There's the smiles on both their faces; cheeks raised taut, dimples carved with genuine laughter. There's that glimmer in Yue's eyes and the odd tenderness of Malleus's own, both gazes locked onto one another with an undisturbed focus. There's the fact that Yue had given him an invitation to the VDC, or that Malleus had fixed the stage partially to show off to the magicless human, or that their hands are currently mere centimeters away from each other.
In the end, Vil averts his gaze, weariness crashing into him all at once and he feels a pair of hands grasp onto his shoulders, keeping him standing. Rook smiles, gentle, knowing, annoying. Vil resigns to his whims and lets his Huntsman guide him back to the Pomefiore Dorm, the chatter of Yue and Malleus and everyone else fading away.
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pupcuck · 4 days
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PAWFECT !
ft. og4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. hybrids, they’re treated like dogs so power dynamics, spaying, creampie, p in v, smut, daddy kink, fluff, pussy inspection
note. SHUT UP. all nyxs fault all her doing. og4 leon btw it wouldn’t work otherwise!! ignore typos n just bad fic over all I was tweaking .. omg forgive me . honestly just snippets of leon n his puppy girl!! super short
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“Baby,” Leon says, it’s the closest to cooing he’ll ever get, “smile for me, baby, c’mon.”
You blank him, rolling over to stare at a small hole in the wall. The refusal to do what he says is a stab in the heart.
“What happened to my good girl?” He hooks his fingers in your mouth, forcing your lips into a grin as he bares your half-formed canines. “There it is, look at that.”
For the first time in your docile existence, you bite Leon. You bite your daddy and he yelps like a little girl—This has one of your ears twitching, the urge to run to his aid is likely strong but you stay put like the stubborn little bitch you are.
The vet said your grudge would last a day or so. That puppies can be temperamental creatures, but they’re soft at heart. A nice way to say that dogs are dumber than a box of rocks - you included. You’re the stupidest of them all and that’s what Leon likes about you.
Your grudge lasts two days, then three, then four, then five—A week long extension. And it’s not just the cold shoulder. It’s the food bowl that sits on the ground covered in a film of dust, out of use. It’s the side of his bed that remains empty as you burrow into your pink doggy bed that you outgrew long ago—There was never any use for the thing, you started to sleep in Leon’s bed the night you came home with him. Man, he used to hate when you whined at the bathroom door while he took a shit, but now Leon would do anything to have that back.
Worst of all, it’s the lack of sex. Leon did this for your good—You like playtime, it’s your favourite part of the day, even better than breakfast or lunch or dinner. You also love being bred, like the warmth, makes you sleepy. No more heat cycles, no more condoms. It’s a win-win. Call him cruel all you want, the shit makes you go insane—He got through, like, twenty rubbers in a day. Think about all those costs, then think about a single procedure, weigh ‘em up and you’ll see what led him to tie your tubes.
Leon makes a call to Rebecca, she comes with a stethoscope and Claire in tow. He’s in for an earful. Hybrid rights activist his ass, you’re his pup and Leon can do what he wants with you. An endless supply of creampies is what his girl dreams about, and he only does what’s best for you—He knows you, when you get over this slump you’ll appreciate all he’s done for you.
“And where does it hurt?” Rebecca’s eyes soften as you place a hand over your heart, blinking up at her with big eyes for added effect.
Oh, baby—Oh, honey— Both of them kneel by your side, scratching behind an ear each, showering you in enough affection to last a century.
“She’s acting,” Leon informs them, only to be met with outrage, “I regret it, swear on my life,” says Leon, who does not.
“You should, look at this sweet girl, what if she wanted to be a mommy.” Claire rubs your tummy, pads of her fingers digging into the pudge, your foot thumps against the floor as your body goes lax. When you look for affection from Leon, he rubs your clit instead of your belly.
“She doesn’t go outside, not gonna be a mommy either way.”
“That’s not the point, Leon, it’s cruel,” she argues, “she’s not a sex doll, are you baby? No, no, you’re not a sex doll, you’re a good girl, yes you are.” He fucking hates the baby voice. If you wanna get knocked up so badly, you should be spoken to like a big girl, but you can’t even make it to the potty on time so how is Leon meant to trust you with a litter?
“It makes it easier to deal with her cycles, I mean, she won’t get them at all now—“ Rebecca’s actual scientific evidence is shut down by a single glare from Claire.
“Get rid of your balls, how would you like that?”
“She likes my balls, can’t do that to her—Anyway, there’s no space for kids,” Leon says shortly, “I’d have to sell ‘em and she’d get all depressed.”
“She should have the choice, Leon, an option at least.” Claire doesn’t know that you can’t pick between dry food and wet food, that you break down when you’re given a choice, even if presented gently.
“Yeah, well, it’s too late.” And hooray to that.
“You’re mean,” she tells him, and he knows, he’s so mean—So selfish. Doing what’s best for his pup is so mean of him. Big Bad Leon crushing your puppy dreams in the palm of his hand like a page out of a diary.
“Mhm, okay, bye now, Claire, you should get going—Thanks for coming, Becca.” Leon escorts them to the door, he gives Claire a gentle push over the threshold and slams it in her face. “So fuckin’ annoying, tellin’ me what to do, and you just let her say that to me baby.”
Your face is indifferent, devoid of the usual warmth you carry in your expression. Dopey bitch. Don’t even know left from right and you think you know what’s best for you?
“So you’re gonna be like that?” Leon asks, and you blink at him, gaze steely. Fine. Two can play that game. He gets his dick out and twiddles it like his thumbs, your mouth waters the moment it comes into your eye line. “Baby, you could’ve held out a little longer.” He laughs quietly when you come to nose at his cock with shining eyes. “Yeah, you’re my greedy little bitch, aren’t you, baby? Yeah, you are.”
“I didn’t mean to make you upset.” He strokes your head tenderly as you mouth at his cock, slicking him up in thick drool from tip to base, icing him like a goddamn cake. “Baby, you know I didn’t mean it—Are you listening?” A whine slips from the base of your throat when he redirects your attention to his face.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, baby, you wanna play ball, don’t you?” That gets your tail wagging. “Yes you do, I know you do, c’mere—“ Now he’s doing the fucking baby voice as he deposits a ball at a time into your wet mouth, your teeth scraping the sensitive skin of his sac, tracing your tongue along the seam.
This is forgiveness he supposes - you choking on his balls like you’re trying to swallow them whole. Peace is restored wholly when he fucks you that night. “Daddy can do this now,” Leon tells you as he fills you with enough seed to stock up a sperm bank.
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You don’t like Ada because Leon likes her, and you don’t like Ashley because she likes Leon. Girls bring out something feral within you, a strain of rabies that has been dormant in your system, waiting for anger to thaw your veins—You ruled out Claire, Rebecca and Jill as threats the moment you gave them a sniff.
Ada left his apartment with a ladder in her stockings and the indentations of puppy teeth in her ass cheek. She was on top - it was a no brainer to go right for her ass. Leon gets it, he wants to sink his teeth into her the same way. She squealed like he’s never heard before and he thought for a minute he fucked her real good. He didn’t even get to cum, she hopped off and made a beeline for the door and you scampered after her, one of her red heels chewed into a sopping leather mess in your mouth.
(Ada doesn’t like dogs, but she likes Leon.)
Ashley waltzes in. “I’m so good with dogs, Leon! I love them, I used to have this great big Labrador, he was so good, Leon! Like he even sat and rolled over when I asked him too—He reminds me of you, actually.” Then she bends over to pet you on the head, but the close proximity between her and him is not to your liking so you bite the hand that saved his life a couple times, a hand that is worth more than his D.C apartment - furniture included.
“Told you she’s tricky.” Leon lifts you up, tosses you over his shoulder so you’re no harm then he finds himself missing your sweet face so you’re swung back over to be cradled in his arms like the big baby you are.
“Ouch, Leon, she’s really mean.” Ashley soothes the pain by flapping her hand in the air, a fruitless endeavour, the cold air from a nearby open window causes it to sting.
“Nah, she don’t bite that hard, do you, baby?” He pushes a finger into your mouth and you nibble on it with a significantly decreased bite-force. “See? Just teething.”
There’s Sherry, you love Sherry more than she does Leon, you run around her in circles and situate yourself on her tiny lap and lick at every inch of her tiny face. You let Leon give you a good scrub before Sherry comes over, put on a fresh set of clothes that aren’t his old t-shirts with ragged collars from all the teething you do. Heck, he even manages to put you in some cute undies.
They come and go, but you stay. And each time a woman leaves his place, you sit your pussy on his face and scoot around— He asks you: “What the fuck you are doing, baby?” Muffled into the fat of your pussy of course, but you never respond. He brushes it off as you scenting him—Whatever pups do when they’re feeling territorial.
And who is he to complain? Your pussy makes him happy. Leon sucks your clit into his mouth, reaches around to pinch the base of your wagging tail between his index and forefinger, stroking up and down to have your thighs tightening around his head.
You circle your hips into him, drool pooling in your mouth and dribbling down your chin as you chew on your favourite stuffed toy, whimpering into the spit-soaked fabric while Leon works your drippy hole open with his tongue. The tip of his nose grinds into your swollen clit, and you only budge once you’ve waterboarded him with your squirt.
Then you very generously provide him with a clean-up service, lapping at the sticky wetness coating his cheeks and suckling on his nose. That always makes him laugh. More often than not it’s a gradual transition into a play fight, you nip at his fingers and your ears twitch, a playful smile brightening your face.
The two of you roll around and Leon, being the bully he is, pins you to the ground, holding your wriggling body down as he slides his sweats down and slots his cock right into your twitching pussy. He grabs your tail to pull you back on his dick, and you might be one stupid bitch, but you’re cock-smart—You know what he wants and push your ass back against his thighs, wet skin smacking as you pick up the pace, faltering only when Leon takes ahold of your ears and uses them as fucking handlebars.
He can’t help himself, they looked too cute, flopping about all over the place. Looked like fuckin’ Dumbo. It doesn’t hurt you—No, it’s the opposite, you cum so hard you pass out in a heap the minute he lets go.
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“Thank you, baby.” Leon pats your head as you shove two pussy-wet fingers into his mouth. “That’s so sweet, baby, can daddy take a look at what you’re doing?”
You smile at him shyly, like you didn’t just force-feed him slick, he catches the shape of your tail wagging low between your thighs, then you roll over onto your belly—Leon gives the fold of your tummy a sweet kiss first, then you turn over, taking your hand out of your panties to let him take care of the rest.
The seat of your panties is basically pasted to your pussy, strings of slick breaking as Leon peels them off. “What’s got you worked up, baby?” He spreads your ass, dipping his nose into your tighter hole as his tongue runs along your slit.
Leon raises his head, he parts your fat lips with his fingers and your cunt clicks when he digs a finger into your tight hole, it pulses around him, begs for more, for something thicker. The hood of your clit is pulled back by his thumb and prodded with his tongue, and your labia is parted by his nose, dragging up and down your soaked pussy. When he’s done messing around, Leon lays his tongue flat on your pussy, licking fat stripes up and down the centre of your cunt, dusting kisses on your throbbing clit until you gush down your thighs.
Man, you don’t even need a heat to get you wet. See, it all worked out in the long run, he’s pretty sure you don’t even remember what went down merely a week earlier.
“Come sit on it, princess,” he hums when you lick into his mouth, sucking on his tongue sloppily, a steady stream of drool slicking up the bottom half of his face. You’ve got a lot of love to give and he’ll take it.
You’re well-trained when it comes to cock and not much else, easing down on Leon’s dick while you brace your hands on his shoulders, pussy tightening when he scratches behind your ears. He plants his feet on the ground, lifting off his heels to fuck up into your plush cunt, squelching every time he bottoms out, cute tits bouncing as you sit pretty on his cock like a pencil topper.
The absence of a knot is always a bother to you. When he cums, you wait expectantly for his cock to swell and stretch you out beautifully, tear your pussy in half—It never comes so you paw at his face to express your disappointment, like you’re telling him to do better.
Maybe there's surgery for it. There’s one for everything these days. From cropping to defanging - a manufactured knot shouldn’t be out of the question. He’d do it for you, he would, even if it was a dodgy procedure in the same alley as coat hanger abortions and junkie meet-ups.
Not really. Leon wouldn’t really. He quite likes his dick how it is, and once you get over the initial anticlimactic flop of his knotless cock, staring out the window like a disillusioned star - you’re back on it less than a minute later.
A lack of understanding for his refractory period causes Leon discomfort as you force yourself down on his soft dick, he sits through it to make up for all the places he falls short. You rut your hips into him, trembling with excitement as he hardens inside of you, cock shaping your insides into something pretty. Then you show him that you love him via a spit shower, which Leon is not too fond of, your pussy on a platter would be ideal, but he doesn’t stop you.
Sometimes you suck his cock till your tongue feels like sandpaper. Sometimes you sob so hard when he leaves for work you throw up and he spends half an hour scrubbing mushy kibble out of the carpet. Sometimes you eat things you aren’t supposed to, and sometimes you are one nasty piece of work, but Leon loves you anyway. ‘Cause you’re his piece of work.
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361 notes · View notes
grandlinedreams · 2 months
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|| notes: waves hand i woke up thinking abt this so uhhh enjoy Az being a menace [AS!reader masterlist]
|| warnings: pwp, mention of Aria, Az is whipped and we love it, oral (f receiving), soft sex, reader and Az are just gooey and in love
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Azriel is not a morning person by choice.
Given his propensity for liking to be awake in the darker, more solitary hours of the night, it makes sense that he'd prefer to spend early morning still asleep. And he does when he can, when there aren't pressing matters to attend to ㅡ or he did, until his daughter was born.
Azriel loves Aria, truly. The little girl has him wrapped around her tiny finger ㅡ but he can't deny that he'd jumped at the offer Feyre and Rhys had extended of a 'cousin sleepover', snapping up the opportunity for Aria to get to play with Nyx, and for the two of you to get a tiny break from parenthood.
(He'd missed Aria the second she was gone, and the ache that rolled down your end of the bond said you shared the sentiment.)
So when he still wakes to the soft glow of early morning sunrise without the pounce of a small half-Illyrian girl on his body, Azriel groans and reaches for you, snuggling you closer to him.
Either still asleep yourself or half-way between that and consciousness, the way you press against him in answer still makes his heart skip a beat as he silently admires you. Your hair spills over the top of one delicate pointed ear, the rest pooled against the gentle slope of your neck.
There are a handful of marks over the column of your neck, bruises bloomed strawberry pink under the attention of his teeth the night before ㅡ and the memory of the sounds you'd made, both then and underneath his body, makes Azriel's breath catch and his eyes darken.
You have the entire morning to enjoy each other's company, to revel in time that isn't spoken for by both the duty of Night Court and parenthood ㅡ and it's that thought that has Azriel pressing his lips to your neck with intent.
He starts out gentle. Your skin is soft and warm under his touch, but it doesn't take much to fully rouse you out of sleep as a hand finds his hair, followed by a sleepy sigh. "Good morning."
"Morning," he murmurs, pausing his ministrations to look at you properly. "Did you sleep well?"
You nod. "Very," you answer, hand sliding from his hair to cup his cheek, expression softening as he leans into it. "Did you?"
Azriel hums, leaning to press a kiss to youe forehead, then your temple, soft kisses peppered down the curve of your jaw. You let him until he catches a flicker of impatience from you, hard pressed to keep from grinning when you guide him to your mouth for a proper kiss.
It's slow and sweet for the early hour, though it dips into something needier as Azriel deepens it, muffling your soft sound as he moves to cage you underneath him. Your neck tilts to offer him more room when he turns his attention back to the marks he'd left, airy gasp leaving your lips as he nips at your pulsepoint.
He leaves a handful of fresh marks in his wake along your throat and collarbone, and the one he leaves at the top of your breast gets him the curl of your fingers into his hair, making him groan when you tug.
Azriel's not sure he'll ever get enough of the sounds you make, delighting in the choked moan from you as you arch into the warmth of his mouth over your breast.
He leaves both nipples peaked and aching, lips grazing over your ribs to your navel. The hitch of your breath when he stops at your hip makes him smirk.
"You're a menace today," you tell him, but you're far from angry as he nudges your legs apart ans presses kisses to both of your thighs. "What's got you so worked up?"
"You," Azriel answers, savoring your gasp and twitch of your hips when he offers a slow roll of his tongue against your slick folds. His hands are steady against the tremble of your muscles as he gives you his attention in earnest, following every involuntary movement of your body.
His name is a sweet cry on your lips when he digs the tip of his tongue against your clit, hand in his hair tightening as he lets you buck against his face. "Fuck," you whine, and the desperation in your tone makes his length twitch in response.
Your other hand fists into the bedsheets, white-knuckled as you writhe, chest heaving as your mate works you steadily towards your orgasm. The work of his tongue against your slick, aching core is nothing short of sinful, making your eyes roll as searing pleasure mounts in your lower belly.
The tug on his hair and stuttering of your hips against his mouth are the only warnings Azriel gets before you're coming, noises pitching higher as he works you through your orgasm.
Azriel only lets up when you've stopped twitching, soft whimper tumbling from your lips as he kisses his way back up your body. The taste of yourself on his tongue when he kisses you makes you moan, hooking a leg around his hip as your own buck in silent demand.
Azriel enters you slowly, eyes shut tight against the white-hot pleasure that licks up his spine at the way you clench around him. Whether it be for the early hour or simply because he wants to make this last, Azriel's hips rock against yours in a steady, languid pace, intentional in how he sinks as deep into you as he can before sliding back.
Your hands wander over him, eager to touch what you can reach with both your hands and mouth. He shudders when you suck a mark into his own neck, skin sweat-slick beneath your lips. Your fingers curl against his shoulders, mindful to skirt the jut of his wings from his back as you drag them down.
Azriel chokes when your fingertips graze where his wings meet his back and even though you're gentle, the sensitivity of the skin along with the molten warmth of your walls around his length has him snapping his hips against yours roughly a handful of times before he's spilling into you with a low groan.
You aren't far behind, arching into him as you clench around him, milking him for all he has to offer before you go boneless, pressed into the bed by Azriel's weight over you.
The next few minutes are spent in a symphony of soft panting brfore you can find coherency to speak. "Well," you huff, "that's one way to wake up."
Azriel grins against your neck and then lifts his head to look at you. "Are you complaining?"
You snort, but your tone is soft and affectionate as you press a kiss to his forehead. "No, definitely not."
334 notes · View notes
purpleyoonn · 1 year
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baby (you complete us) 7
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C H A P T E R   S E V E N 
Summary: Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches.
Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.
Genre: soulmate au, idol au, angst, fluff, eventual smut,
Pairing: Idol BTS x Disabled MC
Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, disabled mc (Ehlers Danlos syndrome), eventual smut, fluff, lots of fluff, mentions of disability, simp bangtan
Chapter Warnings: not much, insecurities, exploring, soul pain
*Words in Italics are spoken/written in Korean*
masterlist // chapter 6 // chapter 8
taglist:  @imnotlauriane​  @mageprincess7​ @m1sss1mp​ @0funsite0​  @strawberry-moonpies​ @this-isthe-way​ @singukieee​ @btsw1fe​ @gooooomz​  @fluffy-canada-pancakes​ @carolinexkpop​ @agusfree​ @sakurarukas​ @iamkookiesforyou​ @skyys-universe​ @toughbook​ @plutoneu​ @whisperssuga​ @welcometomyworld13​ @yuzon3​ @wittyreader​ @jnghs​ @cyd0129​ @exfolitae​ @queen-in-the-shadows​ @nen-nyy​ @pandxthings​ @schniti-is-in-the-house​ @juju-227592​ @jinseartharmysmoon​ @wooya1224​ @ddaeng-angmoh​ @gratefullygrateful​ @rorythme​  @veronawrites​​ @xiusmarshmallow​​ @xicanacorpse​​ @kalala22​​ @ok-boke​​ @namjoonswaifu​​ @sweetcheeksdna​​ @hyunjingin​​  @promiseokza​​ @mushroom-main​​ @bookluver01​​ @butterfliesinthenightsky​ 
permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp​ @yourleftsock​ @skyys-universe​ @cryingpages​ @strxwbloody​  @drissteele​ @dustyinkpages​ @iamkookiesforyou​ @crushedblackroses​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​ @blaaiissee​  @iiitsmaria​  @carolinexkpop​  @azazel-nyx​ @strawberry-moonpies​ @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i​ @knjkitten​ @foreverweareyoung7​ @lachimolala22019​ @namuficxs​ @94z-93​ @kimgmzmc​ @thenaverse​ @dahliasbouqet​ @black-rose-29​ @tinyoonsblog​ @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d​ @stellauniverse​ @stupendouscookiehumanmug​ @tinyoonsblog​ @veronawrites​ @tatyhend​ @singukieee​ @m0v3m3ntsblog​ @exfolitae​ @butterymin​ @queen-in-the-shadows​ 
---------------------------------------------
Previously on baby (you complete us):
They each had signed their name to the bottom, giving you the wistful feeling that rose up your back. Their words and actions made you feel cared for and had you slipping the bank card into one of the slots in your wallet, not entirely sure if you would use it or not. You moved back to the bed, sitting down on it and feeling the way your muscles relaxed into the bed.
You didn’t realize how much hearing their voices had calmed you down, had made you feel relaxed. Relaxed enough to fall asleep with your shoes on and your feet hanging off the big bed.
When you woke up the next morning, it was to the feeling of the soft silk sheets falling off the bed, leaving you cold and wishing you didn’t sleep in your traveling clothes. You were entirely uncomfortable and, in your sleep, ended up on the other side of the bed and halfway under the sheets.
You don’t know if you dreamt or not, but with the way you were moving in your sleep, you probably wouldn’t remember it anyways. Despite the restless sleep problems, you actually felt okay as you got up off the bed, not feeling any bad aches in your back or legs. You were able to get in the shower and relax under the stream of hot water after a couple attempts of translating the controls.
After your shower, you looked at the time only to see it was early, well, for this side of the world. It was 4:35 am in Seoul, meaning it was roughly 11:35 am in California, the day before? Time zones never made sense to you unfortunately. 
You had a couple of text messages from you family, wishing you good luck and asking for a phone call later on. Besides that, you didn’t have any new notifications.
Since it was so early, you didn’t want to bother anyone, but you were quickly becoming bored and wanted to explore with what little time you had to yourself before you had to meet the boys at the HYBE building later on. You figured that the area you were in had street lights, and probably some stores open so you decided to get dressed and explore.
Getting up, you dried off before moving over to your suitcase, lifting it off the floor and onto the bed so you didn’t have to bend down to open it or get your clothes. Unzipping the large suitcase, you decide to dress comfy, choosing a pair of leggings and a t-shirt along with a pair of socks. You pull your Agust D hoodie over your head, loving the feeling of it and how it reminds you of why you were here.
They were being unbelievably sweet and kind to you, despite you being unsure if you were even going to fully accept them or not. They treated you like you were always there, like they wanted you with them. All the expectations and dreams you held for your soulmates were coming true, and it was hard to come to terms with after waiting ten years.
Shaking your head out of your thoughts, you grab your phone from off the charger and your small card wallet from your carryon duffle. At the last second you also remembered the lanyard that the boys sent over, the “All Exclusive Access” pass with the HYBE logo on it, grabbing that along with your soulmate passport just in case something happened. 
Shoving all of those in the hoodie pocket, you move to the door, slipping your shoes on and grab the key card from where you placed it on the little entry way shelf before leaving the room.
It was quiet, to be expected, as you walked down the large hallway and flashed your key card against the small thing in the wall again, just like you did the night before. The elevator opened to bright lights and a mirror up hadn’t noticed taking up the space of the back wall. The small electronic clock above the floor buttons read 5:06 am, which meant the rest of the city would be waking up soon, if they weren’t already up.
The same desk clerk from before was the only one in the lobby, her friendly smile aimed your way as she calls out to you.
“Good morning, Mrs. Kim. Was the room to your liking?” You smile back at her, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks at the sound of being called “Mrs. Kim”. You didn’t realize how much you would like the sound of it until it was being said.
“Uhm, yes, thank you.” You answer her question, before thinking it would be a good idea to ask her what the best place to get breakfast was, not exactly wanting to eat in the hotel, not wanting to be cooped up in the expensive building.
The desk clerk was super sweet and even wrote down a couple of places on some hotel stationary, giving you directions as she did. You were quick to thank her, bowing your head as you did, remembering the niceties and customs you looked up on the plane so you didn’t accidentally offend anyone.
You had also decided now would be the best time to practice your Korean. You knew that it was only a matter of time before you would be encouraged to move here, to be with your soulmates. It was inevitable.
You may still have some unworked through feelings about the entire situation, feelings of being unwanted and the like, coming and going that you needed to work through, but you also knew that these boys were already working their way into your heart, your love for the boys as BTS slowly bleeding through your growing feelings towards them as your soulmates.
This meant your Korean would need some work, because you wanted to be able to communicate with them; one less barrier removed.
You walked out of the hotel’s front doors only to pause at the sight of the large buildings in front of you. It seemed like you were in the middle of a huge shopping/business district. Moving out of the way of the entrance, you stand to the side and lean against the building so you could look down at the paper the clerk gave you. You were kind of overwhelmed by your surroundings and the feeling of your stomach doing a revolt against you for not feeding it.
You began to follow the directions told to you but had eventually gone off track with excitement as you noticed a 7-11. You had seen numerous tiktoks filmed within the franchise in Korea and had wanted to see what the hype was for yourself. You especially wanted to try one of those coffees they made with the bag of coffee and the cup of ice.
Opening the door, you were greeted by the sight of an older woman sitting at the register, her greetings of hello catching your ears.
“Good morning! Let me know if I can help you with anything.” You smile at her before answering back.
“Hello. Thank you!” Your words are slow as you test them out on your tongue, hoping you didn’t butcher the pronunciation of anything. You were relieved to see the smile in the woman’s lips grow as she hears you respond back.
“Wow! Your Korean is good!” She gives you a thumbs up, making you sigh out in relief at her compliment.
“Thank you.” You bow your head a little before moving into the aisles, eyes wide in wonder as you look at each and everything that catches your eyes.
The array of snacks and drinks catch your eye, even spotting some that are familiar to you like Cheetos and Doritos. You held your phone in hand as you glance back and forth from the Papago app on your phone and the snacks, trying to translate the best you could. As you move throughout the aisles and towards the cooler section, you snag a bag of M&M’s, along with a small pack of gummy worms.
As you get to the cooler section, you quickly set out to grab a package of cut up watermelon, craving the sweet treat after your previous day. Once you have that in hand, you move to the drinks, quickly grabbing one of the ice cups and settling on a vanilla caramel coffee bag, giggling in excitement as you did.
Juggling to hold all of that with one hand, you also manage to grab a couple of bulgogi gimbap triangles, having seen them out of the corner of your eye. These were one of the things you had always wanted to try if you ever managed to make your way to South Korea, and now you have your chance.
Deciding you can’t really fit anything else in your grip, you make your way back to the front of the store, seeing the smiling woman again as you place your things on the counter.
“Will this be all?” The woman’s voice is heard over the ringing of the machine as she totals up your items. You tilt your head as you try to translate her words, only for her to gesture to the items and give you a thumbs up.
“Yes, ma’am.” You nod your head in thanks, even more grateful for the woman when she grabs a plastic bag and begins to place your items in there. She leaves your ice cup and drink bag on the counter or you to make.
Once she tells you the total, you pull your wallet out of your sweatshirt pocket, only to remember you didn’t get the chance to transfer and money to the Korean won. You begin to pull out the card that the boys left for you, sending a silent thanks to your soulmates and a promise to pay them back once you see them.
After paying for you things and making your drink (which you record with your phone so you can have the memory forever), you thank the woman again before making your way out of the convenience store.
Seeing the sun begin to rise, you figure out your next move.
The Han River had numerous park designations, called the Hangang Parks, all along Seoul. Seeing the river was one of the items on your bucket list and you deemed it appropriate for the occasion. It takes you only minutes to find one of the entrances once you figure out how to google it. 
With your bag in hand, you were able to find a nice spot in the grass along the river that held an amazing view of the sunrise just as the sun started to peak over the city line.
You took numerous pictures of the skyline, the sunrise, and even of your snacks. You even took a couple pictures of yourself, choosing to document the trip. It was always something you wanted to do, one of the places you most wanted to visit and explore. You weren’t going to let the chance to make memories and have experiences pass you by.
It was now passed seven in the morning, and you figured the boys had to be awake right now. Deciding to take the chance with the small amount of peace and courage you held, you sent a picture of the sunrise with the skyline in the distance and a picture of you to the group chat.
m8tes
you: *pictures attached* I can see why you guys like the views.
Jimin: good morning baby! 😍
Taehyung: you’re up already! We thought you would still be sleeping!
Taehyung: how long have you been up, baby?
You blush at his words, the concern translated over as you highlight the text. Numerous different bubbles pop up as the others begin to text back in the group chat.
Yoongi: you look like you’re relaxed. I’m glad you were able to explore a little this morning. Is Songun with you?
Jin: you look beautiful baby. Those snacks also look good.
Jungkook: you’re up already? Why didn’t you message us earlier? 🥺
Namjoon: Jungkook, we can’t take up all her time. Plus, she said she would message us when she was up, she never specified when.
Namjoon: thank you for sending us the pictures. We are happy you are having fun.
Hoseok: Good morning, pretty girl. Did you sleep well? I see you are wearing yoongi’s sweatshirt again 😊
The blush rises on your cheeks again at the implication that you were wearing Yoongi’s sweatshirt. You know what Hoseok meant, but still.
You: I woke up really early this morning and decided it would be nice to get out and explore what I could. I found a really nice convenience store and bought snacks! I didn’t want to wake up Songun so I just got directions from the hotel clerk. I also didn’t want to wake you all up. I didn’t know what your plans were.
You: I slept really well. The bed felt like a huge marshmallow. And I am wearing it again. It’s very comfy and soft and I would wear it every day if I could.
You didn’t know it, but your response made Yoongi blush like no tomorrow, hiding his face in his sleeve as the others begin to tease him about it.
You wondered if now would be a good a time as any to get everything over with. If it would be a good time to talk and try and complete the soul bond with them. You could feel this pit forming in your gut, the ache slowly spreading to your back as you sat there. You had noticed it yesterday, had thought it was just nerves, but the closer you got to the boys, it seemed the better the pain was becoming.
Your soul pain reminded you just how much was at stake. You hadn’t wanted to ever feel this pain, let alone have your soulmates feel the same thing, no matter how the circumstances changed.
You plucked up what little courage you had left and typed out your next message.
You: would now be a bad time for my visit?
You almost immediately regret it. It was barely eight in the morning, there was no way they were already at the HYBE building, let alone probably available for your visit. They said they had no plans for the day, but you could only guess how easily that could change.
You glance down at your left-over snacks, the M&M’s, one of the gimbap triangles, and some watermelon wondering if someday you could come back here, maybe with one of the boys. It seemed awfully calming, bordering on peaceful and tranquil.
Yoongi: of course not.
Jimin: we’ve been at the building for over an hour, hoping you would message us.
Jungkook: it would never be a bad time for a visit from you.
Hoseok: do you still have the pass we gave you, pretty girl?
You move to respond but you feel someone move behind you, jumping when they end up sitting next to you on the grass.
“I’m sorry, Miss. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Turning your head you see Songun, a small smirk on his lips as you hold a hand to your chest, trying to get your breathing and heart rate back under control.
“Oh no, Songun. Don’t worry. You didn’t startle me. I just had a heart attack for absolutely no reason." You retort out of instinct, not seeing how he might misunderstand you until the words leave your lips. You go to apologize but he starts speaking.
“Well, you should get that checked out then. Don’t want to have another one.” You gasp again out of shock as he quickly retorts back, his smirk growing into a smile as he pats you on the shoulder.
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t sneak up on people, and we would be good.” You respond back, laughter blending in with your words as you start to place your leftovers back into the plastic bag and gather your trash up to throw away.
“How did you know I was here?” You ask Songun as you start to walk to the nearest trashcan, feeling him walk in step with you.
“My bosses are good at what they do.” His words have you laughing again.
“You mean they told you where I was and asked why you were not with me like you informed me of yesterday?” He snaps his fingers at you.
“Correct. Which leads me to wondering, why did you decide not to call me before you went and explored?” You shrug at his question, not wanting to tell him you didn’t want to be an inconvenience, so you made something up.
“Got bored. Forgot your phone number card at the hotel.” You can tell that Songun sees right through you, but you were glad he didn’t push anymore. You had a feeling you would be touching on those hidden feelings sooner than you anticipated.
“Alright then. Are you ready to go and meet your soulmates?” Songun claps his hands together before gesturing you towards the waiting car parked on the street. You stare at it warily, but you nod your head anyways, pushing and grasping for the feelings the boys have already made you feel, hoping they chase away any of the doubt floating through your head.
“Yes.”
Next Chapter
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artemis-potnia-theron · 8 months
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How I perceive different deities' energies
(based on personal experiences)
Apollon ☀️: Light coming up from somewhere deep in the gut. An ache that almost burns. And it might if I stare too long. Swelling gold. A chorus of music too perfect to be written, words that could shatter my tongue if I tried to speak them.
Brigid 🔥: A lump at the back of my throat. Tears in my eyes while I smile. Joy and grief mixed together under my ribcage. Melodies sung through the ages, and through tears. Warmth at my back and a hand on my cheek. Baked bread. Garden herbs. Clear water from a well. An embrace that could last an age.
Nyx 🌌: The low, echoing hum of something eternal. Something too ancient to comprehend and too overwhelming to be perceived. Endless. Ethereal. Peace and chaos. Quiet and thunderous. Coffee. Red wine. Onyx.
The Morrigan 🐦‍⬛: A chant of words I can't understand, spoken in a language I never knew and never forgot. The cold steel of a blade's edge. Sharp, precise, and unwavering. Her language of secrets and ancient knowledge could swallow you whole if you let it.
Hekate 🗝: Whispers. Shadows against candlelight. A flickering flame that knows how to dance in the wind and never extinguish. The smell of old parchment and herbs. A ripple on the water. As intricate and mesmerizing as a spider's web. Silent and sharp like a viper. A bark and a growl heard from somewhere too far away for me to see.
Aine 🧚🏼‍♀️: Sunlight breaking over the surface of a river. Citrus. Wildflowers. Fresh grass. Wind sweeping over a meadow. Chimes. Fruit trees finally coming into bloom. The juice from an apple trickling down my neck. Laughter. So much laughter.
Aphrodite ❤️: Flower petals. Something sweet and soft like honey that trickles down the back of my throat and seeps into my belly. It spreads all through me like starlight trapped in my veins. Bells. Bliss. A want that could dissolve me. A yearning that would hurt if it didn't taste so lovely. The pain feels like a lifetime away.
Tiamat 🐉: Clusters of stars. Endless reflections of light on the water's surface. The deep song of a whale that echoes through the pulse of the sea. An eye that gazes down from the cosmos.
Caer Ibormeith 🦢: A lullaby that has been with me for longer than I know. A kiss pressed to my forehead. That place between sleeping and awake, between real and not. Cool air at twilight. Dew on the glass before sunrise. Clean fabric. A veil. Flying over the world as it sleeps.
Artemis 🦌: Freedom. Breath-taking, devastating freedom. A stag drinking fresh water from a spring. A doe and her fawn, sleeping as the songbirds chirp at dawn. A rush. An absolute rush like mountain air in my blood. Fireflies in an open field. Bones bleaching in the sun. The thrill of a wolf pack chasing its prey. The moon over the ocean at night. Teeth. Bird calls. Wildflowers. A great bear that walks in the stars. Hymns only beasts can sing. Jasmine and animal fur and the midnight air.
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sleepnowmychild · 16 days
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So we all know that deities show up looking different for different people, but Hypnos has always looked the same to me every time I see him.
Tall, slightly tanned. Long white, curly hair. Only one head wing, not sure why. Freckled, but in the shape of stars. Golden eyes with eyebags. Fairly young, like 20s looking. He wears one shoulder robes, white or purple. He usually has a crown of poppies but sometimes it’s an eye mask. Sometimes he has a blanket over his shoulders like a cloak and of course bunny slippers. He always looks ready for bed, unsurprisingly.
He sounds very quiet, soft spoken and never raises his voice. Gentle on pitch, pretty androgynous. In fact he’s just androgynous in general.
I don’t work with Thanatos, but I have an image of him I’m assuming from Hypnos. Since the two are so closely linked. He looks very similar, obviously since they’re twins. But he’s paler, his hair is straighter and his face is usually obscured by a hood. I’ve never heard him speak, I just vaguely know what he looks like. Same eyes, similar height. Although Thanatos seems more… skeletal? Like he’s got sharper cheekbones and his hands are kind of boney. I’d assume because you know, death.
Never seen Nyx, Morpheus etc. although I would like to. Just out of sheer curiosity about what they look like to me.
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readychilledwine · 8 months
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Little Bat, Big Dreams
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A/N- *tv static noise and announcer voice* we now interrupt your regularly scheduled smut for an adorable Nyx piece to satisfy Readychilledwine's pregnant brain. I present to you all a Kaylee (the previously introduced archeron oc) and toddler Nyx piece. Hopefully, you all enjoy this little family dinner piece as much as my brain enjoyed writing it, and hopefully, it helps ease any ill feelings on if Kaylee is okay at the end of Bound by Fate. 💜 Happy 5th day of "Here's to 100"
Summary - Of the four Archeron sisters, Kaylee had always had the easiest time with children due to her work in the healing house. Now, those skills are being tested by her own nephew as he takes on his worst known enemy, vegetables.
Warnings - food aversion, food allergy reactions are briefly mentioned but not described (no use of the phrase "water bowels" here, sorry Sarah.)
Feyre and Kaylee shared a look as Nyx pouted about the vegetables his family was trying to force him to eat. This was the third attempt today in making the little heir eat a well-rounded meal. This time, they had tried drowning the vegetables in cheese and withholding any other food until he ate those first.
Kaylee sighed, finally breaking the tense silence at the table, "So, you don't like veggies ooooorrr?"
Rhysand chuckled as Nyx looked up at his favorite aunt. His little blue eyes were soft with admiration for her despite Azriel's joking, yet not, warnings that she was spoken for. Her perfectly arched brow was raised at her nephew. "They're gross," he answered softly. "I hate them."
"Hate is a strong word," Nesta said from next to the boy. "It requires previous emotions like love." She wiggled her shoulder at Nyx, causing him to start dramatically gagging at the idea of romance and adult feelings.
"Auntie Kay-Kay isn't eating vegetables. If she doesn't have to. I don't neither." All heads at the table turned to her as she and Feyre made eye contact.
Before becoming fae, Kaylee had always had issues eating dairy products. Cheese, ice creams, chocolates, and milk had all tended to make her very sick. She had not bothered trying to eat them after being made. Not worth the risk, she had told Rhysand quietly one night as she explained what happened to her.
She held her plate silently to her mate, and Azriel tugged the bond gently. Are you sure? Rhysand came into her mind softly. I really appreciate you doing this, but you do not have to.
The youngest Archeron continued her stare off as Azriel put a small serving of the vegetables on her plate. I'm sure. Just buy me something pretty if this makes me sick in return. Rhysand chuckled softly as the toddler and his aunt both leaned forward, maintaining eye contact.
"Oh shit, it's getting serious," Cassian leaned back in his chair, tapping Lucien's shoulder to get the other male's attention. The Autumn male and Elain instantly looked over, laughing at the two youngest beings at the table.
"If I eat all of these, you have to eat all of yours. Once you eat all of yours, Uncle Az will take you flying today and go to the bakery we all love with you. If you don't finish them, though, he's taking me instead. Deal?"
They all watched as Nyx weighed his options. The gross vegetables covered in his favorite cheese, or not getting to fly with Uncle Az and losing out on the oh so famous triple chocolate fudge brownies the bakery had, "Deal." Kaylee and Nyx maintained eye contact as they picked up the first bite. A silent game took place between the little bat and the auntie.
Nyx put the cheesy greens in his mouth at the same time as her, eyes going wide as he chewed. He broke the game, looking down at his plate in wonder before picking up a bigger bite and eating it. And then another and another. Kaylee shook her head, looking at Feyre and Rhysand, Works every time. She kept her end of the deal, eating her serving of veggies as Rhys and Azriel watched with concern.
Nyx finished his first, smiling at his empty plate. "Not bad, huh?" She smiled at him as he held his hand out for her fork. "Evidently not." She handed Nyx her fork, allowing him the last bite of cheese and broccoli, and watched him with a soft smile. "Was it as gross as you thought, little bat?"
The Illyrians chuckled at the nickname as Nyx shook his head. "They were yummy." Kaylee nodded. "Why weren't you going to eat them if you knew they were yummy?"
"You remember how mommy and your aunties were made and not born fae, right?" Nyx nodded at her. "When I was human, milk made me really sick, and I haven't tried to eat it since."
Nyx looked up at her, his eyes wide as his lower lip began to tremble. "So, you'll get sick because of me?"
Kaylee chuckled softly. "No, buddy, if I get sick, I'm going to get sick because of the cheese. Not because of you. You needed encouragement because you were scared, right?"
Nyx nodded. "They're just gross looking. Like little mutant trees."
"But now you like them? So we never have to do that again?" The Little bat nodded at his smiling aunt. "Then, if i feel icky later, me having an unhappy tummy for a few hours is worth every second since you'll eat your vegetables now and grow big and strong."
"Like Uncle Cassie?!"
Kaylee nodded as Azriel's hand found hers under the table. "Exactly like Uncle Cassie."
Nyx held his plate out to Azriel who took it with a smile, adding another serving of veggies to his plate and setting it back down in front of him. "I'm going to beat up Uncle Cassian some day," Nyx began to eat his second serving of vegetables with determination, his eyes glancing towards Cassian with a slight glare every so often.
Wonderful. Any ideas on how to get him to eat meat other than chicken strips? Rhysand smiled.
I have a few. Kaylee leaned her head on Azriel's shoulder. The two mates were silently communicating. Kaylee's bright blue eyes flickered towards Cassian, cutting his steak and then back to Nyx. She rose both of her brows at Azriel quickly, and the male discretely nodded. Rhysand smiled lightly, shaking his head. The two of them had quickly developed their own language, and it was something the High Lord both envied and adored for his brother.
They all were now watching as Nyx and Cassian had a stare off. Cassian continued to eat his steak with a small smirk. He knew his nephew was still sad over the small battle the two of them had just hours ago. "You know Nyx," Azriel started slowly. "Part of why Uncle Cass is so big is due to him eating a variety of food. Different foods help our bodies with different things. That steak he's eating helps his muscles stay big and strong. Maybe we should try that sometime too, huh?"
Nyx glared at Cassian. The goal of beating him in a fight someday was the only thing driving him after losing in their wooden sword fight, and Azriel knew that. Cassian rose his brows in challenge, staring at Nyx as he took another bite of his steak. Nyx glared harder before turning to his father, "Cut me a steak, daddy."
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Not So Routine - Chapter 3
Summary: You and Mor talk about your mates over breakfast. Then get a bit distracted when she invites you to dinner.
Pairing: Eventual!Nessian x Afab!Reader Mor x Afab!Reader
Warnings: Cussing and smut. 18+ only, minors do not interact.
Word count: 1494
Bookshelf Series Bookshelf
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When you awoke Mor was in the kitchen making breakfast which you were insanely grateful for. You padded out to where she was carefully, not wanting to spook her. Once she sensed your presence she turned towards you and gave you a beaming smile. You walked up to her and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek, which had a light blush dusting across her face. She was always quick to preen under soft affections. 
“I’ll make the coffee.” She responded with a grateful hum. You made quick work at making the hot beverage, the both of you working around each other in the kitchen like many other mornings you’d found yourselves here. You would alternate between who cooked and who made the tea or coffee. You were always plenty happy when Mor cooked. Her french toast was something otherworldly, which you had praised her for many times in the past, much to her delight. 
“Do you want me to tell you about them?” She asked the question delicately as you sat at your dining room table, mug in hand. Not sure if you were ready to talk about them yet. You pondered her question for a moment. You decided you didn’t want to talk about them yet. But it seemed your bond had another idea.
“Would you mind?” You asked her, cursing yourself in the process. It seemed you were too curious about them to stay away from the topic for long. She took a sip of coffee from the mug you had sat beside her and moaned at the perfect taste. You always made her coffee or tea the exact way she liked it. 
“Cassian is an absolute goofball. He can be kinda hard headed, but he’s a sweetheart. He cares about who he loves more than anyone I know. He’d be the type to rescue a kitten off the street.” She paused for a moment as she flipped the French toast. You smiled as warmth filled your chest, a sense of pride at the way she spoke about your Illyrian mate. 
“He has actually saved more than one kitten. He has also always found them safe homes.” She had a wide smile on her face as she thought about the last time he had saved one after a rambunctious night at Rita’s. The little white ball of fur had found a loving home with Cassian’s favorite baker.
“Nesta is. Well she’s. She is Nesta.” She was a bit more stiff at the topic of the female. Which caused you to sit up straighter. The negative tone in her voice had a protective chill seeping through you. 
“We are all pretty sure she only loves Feyre, Elain, Nyx, Gwyn and Emerie.” She counted them off on her fingers quickly. You relaxed a bit as her tone became lighter. Almost as though she could tell you were on the verge of a growl. The feeling of protectiveness was new to you. 
“What about Cassian?” The name left your lips and you shuddered, it made you feel intoxicated. You hadn’t spoken their names yet you had realized. You also realized you’d never get sick of saying them. 
“She tolerates him most days.” You both giggled at that response. From what you had seen of them yesterday you knew they were deeply in love but you also knew that Nesta was the more serious of the two. Cassian seemed like an absolute heathen.  
For the first time since the bonds snapped into place for you yesterday you reached for them. You let their emotions flow through you freely. You felt complete and utter adoration radiating from them both. It made your chest ache as you craved for that to be directed towards you. You tried to shake off the longing and brought your mug up to your lips, doing your best to close the bonds once more. 
“Would you like to come to dinner at the river house tonight?” Her question had you sputtering and choking on the coffee you had just swallowed. Your eyes were saucers as she came to the table, sitting down a plate of food in front of you before going back to grab her own. As she settled in her chair deep coughs rumbled your chest as you continued to try and clear your throat. 
“What?” The one word reply had her rolling her eyes affectionately. You took a few deep breaths, a hand rubbing your chest where it ached from your coughing fit. 
“That way you can meet them in a more casual setting.” She said it like it was obvious. You had never thought about meeting the people she was closest to. It had never seemed like an option. What you had was something she wasn’t willing to shine a light on. Which had never once bothered you, you enjoyed her private company immensely and had no desire to be public with her. 
“Are you sure?” The question was posed delicately. You searched her face for a sign of hesitation. But you came up empty, she seemed completely set on this. There was no way you were going to sway her decision with the determined look in her eyes. 
“Of course I’m sure.” You eyed her suspiciously as she nibbled on her plump bottom lip, before releasing the flesh ever so slowly. This almost seemed like something she had been pondering for a while.
“It’s not like we’re going to tell anyone that you like it when I curl my fingers just like this.” She did the motion with her fingers, the same motion that had left your whole body shaking countless times. A groan escaped your lips as you watched the motion. 
“If you keep that up I’ll be late for work.” Your cheeks had begun to heat as you watched her lick her lips. She cut a piece of the french toast she had made and brought it to her lips and moaned as the sweetness of the syrup coated her tongue. 
“Would that be a bad thing?” The question was teasing but as she licked a bit of syrup off her finger you were standing abruptly. She smiled sweetly once she knew she had you right where she wanted you. 
“You don’t need these.” You had moved her chair to face you as you dropped to your knees between her legs. You worked the sleep shorts down her legs quickly. She took one last sip from her mug before she turned her full attention to you. Her legs parted for you easily, slipping over your shoulders and your mouth started to water at the sight of her. She hadn’t bothered with any undergarments so she was completely bare to you. 
“So pretty.''The praise left your lips before you kissed up the inside of her thigh quickly. As your mouth met her cunt her hand weaved into your hair. A moan leaving her delicate lips as you licked a strip up towards her clit. You swirled your tongue around the bud gently. Two of your fingers danced along her leg before finding her center. You gathered up some of the slick before pushing them both inside slowly. The way her walls pulsed around the digits had you letting out a deep moan. 
“Fuck. that feels so good.” You preened under the compliment the blonde gave you. You started to curl your fingers in the exact motion she had done not long ago. Her hand that was settled in your hair pulled on it lightly. You continued the motions with your tongue and fingers, the noises slipping from her lips spurring you on. 
As her legs began to shake and squeeze your head you let a moan slip through your own lips. The feeling was exactly what she needed as she was instantly releasing around your fingers. The taste of her was just as addicting as the last time you had tasted her. You helped her come down from the high of her orgasm before you were standing back up giving her a purely cheshire grin. You slipped your fingers between your lips, eyes remaining on hers as you cleaned them off. 
You pulled her pants back up her legs and kissed her lips sweetly. Her lips parted in a content sigh as you sat back in your seat. She had a purely blissed smile on her face that had you humming in contentment. You loved being the one that could make her feel that good. 
“You’re most definitely going to be late to the boutique. I’m gonna return the favor when we wash up.” With that sentence you were both rushing through breakfast. Eager to get into your bathroom. Her words rang true because on shaky legs you were landing in the middle of your boutique almost an hour later. A look of bewilderment was on your best friend's face as you gave her a sheepish smile and a quick apology for your tardiness.
A/N: One more part then there will be more Nessian. I'm not even totally sure how this ended up being smut but here we are lol. As always likes, follows, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!
Tags(open): @kmc1989 @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @luvmoo @wolfsbane44 @acourtofinkandpapyrus @moonlwghts @maddietheshoe @hyemishii @fanboyluvr @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @pinksmellslikelove @waytoomanyteenagefeels
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nightcourtseer · 1 year
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Read on A03
Summary: For Elriel Week 2023, Solstice. Elain confronts Azriel a year after the infamous events of the previous Solstice.
Warning: Explicit, NSFW
Elain looked at the clock on the mantle. It had only been half an hour since she had been left alone with Mor in the cabin. Feyre, Nyx and Rhys had left before lunch, followed by Cassian and Nesta. Each returning to their respective homes after the infamous snowball war between the three Illyrians, as the cabin in the mountains was not conducive for all of them to spend much more time all together after a long, alcohol-fueled Solstice night. Especially with Cassian’s ego taking up the majority of the small space.
Azriel had been the first to disappear, almost immediately following a winner being called in the snowball fight - which admittedly ended much earlier than usual. Elain hadn’t even seen him as the other two trailed in, a face-splitting grin on Cassian’s face and a scowl on Rhysand’s.
“Did you leave Az for dead?” Mor inquired, a smirk on her face as she took a long sip of wine. It was never too early, she had told Elain with a wink as she had offered her a drink barely past 9am that morning.
Elain had taken her up on the offer.
“He’s sulking in the birchin,” Cassian had responded with a deep laugh as he twirled an exhausted Nesta around the room.
“I’m going to throw up on your shoes if you do that again,” Nesta groaned, slapping her mate on the shoulder. “Can we go home now?”
And that left Elain and Mor inside the cabin, Azriel still having not come back inside.
The pair of hazel eyes painted over the doorway seemed to catch her attention each time she checked the clock, or moved to take another sip of wine. Fueling a year’s worth of frustration that had only culminated the night before, when Azriel had not spoken two words to her throughout the whole evening.
There were no gifts exchanged between the pair that year.
But while he didn’t speak, Elain could hear his thoughts all too loudly as she felt his eyes on the back of her head as she served them dinner, when they poured drinks and gathered in the living room - him choosing to sit as far away from her as possible - and then again when she opened a gift from Lucien, who had deigned to spend Solstice that year with Vassa and Jurian.
It was a necklace, three pearls strung on a silver chain, to match the earrings he had gifted her that first Solstice.
She had tried to open it quickly, angling the box away from the curious eyes surrounding her. But Amren, the magpie, had spotted it before she had a chance to snap the velvet box shut. The older fae female had beckoned for it to examine, inspecting the quality of the Summer Court pearls.
Elain’s face had heated and turned red as the box was passed around the Inner Circle. Her stomach churning so violently she thought she might be physically sick.
When the box had reached Azriel, Nesta had been quick to reach over him to snatch it out of Varian’s hand, giving it a dismissive look and shutting the box roughly, practically tossing it on top of the stack of Elain’s other gifts.
Azriel had almost melted completely into the shadows thrown on the wall by the fire, and Elain had looked anywhere but his eyes.
She didn’t think she had ever been so thankful for Nesta’s frankness, and the protectiveness that seemed to extend past her own self now.
As angry and confused as she was by the spymaster, she didn’t want to rub Lucien in his face like that.
And for the rest of the night, she felt those eyes on her once more. Hazel eyes burning with… something. Something she had thought she had once understood so completely.
She thought maybe he would seek her out, after the others had retired for the night. Late into the early morning hours, she had lingered in front of the dying fire, unable to sleep, every muscle tense as she listened for a pair of whisper-soft footsteps coming down the stairs.
To offer an apology, an explanation… maybe something more.
But he had never come.
Elain had barely slept, dozing in and out on the couch until she woke to Feyre gently shaking her, holding Nyx bundled up from head to toe in thick winter clothes, and offering to winnow her to the cabin where the rest of them already waited as the boys had their fun.
Painted hazel eyes, staring at her.
She couldn’t take it anymore. She was going to scream if she didn’t do something, if she didn’t say something to him.
“I think I’m going to head for a steam,” Elain announced, standing up quickly and downing the rest of her drink.
Mor lifted a carefully sculpted brow, and Elain noted a small smirk tugging at the corner of her perfectly painted red lips.
“Oh? Say hi to Az for me. Maybe you can cheer him up.”
Elain didn’t take the bait, and turned before she let Mor see the flaming look in her eye. Anger… but also something else.
She shrugged on an old coat of Mor’s that she found in closet, pulled on her boots and then before she lost her courage, was stomping through the knee-high snow down to the small wooden structure halfway down the hill.
With each step closer to the birchin, Elain grew angrier and angrier. One year. One year of silence, of emptiness on the seat next to her in the garden. One less chair at family dinners.
But those looks that he gave her whenever he deigned to see her… they had not stopped. He still looked at her as if there was something else in store for them. Longing and pain and hope all tied together messily in a half done bow.
If he wasn’t going to step over that invisible line he had drawn between them last Solstice, then she was going to pull him right over the damn thing.
She allowed herself a single breath when she arrived in front of the wooden door. Steam seeping out around it. Her palms were already sweating at her sides, and not from the pumping heat.
Elain threw open the door, and found herself alone, in the birchin, with a very naked Azriel staring at her as if she had just grown a second head.
“Hello,” she said, her own brown eyes wide as she stared back at the shadowsinger through the cloud of steam separating them. His shadows twisting around the billows of heat as if they were almost… playing.
When she had thought about confronting him, she seemed to have conveniently ignored the fact that he would be naked.
Dark tattoos twisted up his arms and chest, all the way past the base of his neck as sweat dripped down his abdominals. Elain’s traitorous eyes watched a single trickle of moisture crawl down his torso, lower and lower and lower, until…
Her eyes shot back up to his, which were still widened in surprise at her sudden appearance in front of him.
At the sight of his face, Elain bit her lip to keep from asking in concern about what had happened to his eye. The skin surrounding it was black and blue, and slightly swollen.
She felt a bit of wetness begin to gather between her thighs at the sight of it, and everything else below it, and she was suddenly very grateful for Mor’s thick winter coat and the humid air of the birchin, hoping it would hide the sudden onset of the scent of her arousal.
Azriel still was seemingly shocked into silence. Fine. She would be the first to speak then.
“Who won?”
It seemed to take Azriel a moment to comprehend what she had just asked, as he sat up straighter and turned to the side, seemingly trying to hide his indecency.
A bit of darkness passed across his eyes before he responded. Elain could read the tension that he was feeling like a book - saw it in the clench of his jaw, the fingers twitching at his side and in the hunch of his tense shoulders. He was looking for a way out, to ignore her. To ignore what was between them.
But Elain stood steadfastly between him and the door. Even if it was just a few words, she was going to make him talk to her.
“Cassian,” Azriel finally mumbled sourly. “Rhys is up half the night with Nyx and I’ve been…”
He trailed off.
“You’ve been what?” Elain prompted, taking another step into the room. Steam fanning her face and making her already out of control curls go wild.
Azriel gave her a long, dark look.
“Distracted.”
Elain chuckled darkly. “And here I thought you had rid yourself of those.”
A nimble finger slipped to the front buttons of her coat, slipping the top one free. And the second.
Hazel eyes bore into her own, as he refused to look down at what she was doing. She saw through him though - how he was practically shaking with effort to restrain himself. From doing what… she supposed she was about to find out.
“You don’t mind if I join you, do you?”
Her voice was conversational, light. Innocent.
“By all means,” Azriel threw out a hand to the side. “It’s not as if I own it. You have more a right to it than me, if you’d like me to leave…”
When he made to stand, Elain caught a glimpse of his growing interest. But stubbornly, she ignored the sight of it.
“Stay,” more command in her voice than she expected there to be.
Azriel froze, at the unexpected authority she had inserted into her voice. A storm passed over his expression.
“Elain…” he warned in a low voice.
“We’re allowed to be in the same room together, there’s no law preventing it… as far as I’m aware,” Elain struck back, surprising herself even with the amount of venom coursing through her words.
She reached the last button of her coat, and shrugged off the heavy blue jacket, folding it and setting it neatly on the bench next to her.
Next was the lavender dress, simple and long-sleeved and warm, which she had thrown on quickly that morning before Feyre had winnowed them to the cabin.
“Don’t mind me,” she said offhandedly, bending over to grasp the hem in her hands before pulling it up ever so slowly. The birchin’s welcome heat soothing her bare skin as the fabric climbed higher and higher up her leg - over her knee, then thigh, then past the simple undergarments she had chosen that morning.
Azriel sunk down on the bench, as she stared him down. As if daring him to try to leave her, again. His chest barely moving as he struggled to breathe, his hazel eyes darkening until they looked black in the dim room, faelights throwing shadows against the wall. His wings were tucked in tight, but she could have sworn she noticed them quivering at his back.
And then, she was standing before him as bare as she had ever been in his presence, in nothing more than her brassiere and underwear.
A small trickle of sweat formed and fell between her breasts, rivering down to where it stopped against the line of her undergarments. A delicate pair of blush lace panties that she had bought with her own money, refusing to put it on the tab that her sister and brother-in-law had set up for her at most of the shops in the shopping district. Mortified to think of them wondering why she was buying lingerie for herself.
It was all for him, of course.
And judging by the heat thrown at her from across the room, and the eyes roaming slowly over the expanse of her exposed skin just beginning to turn pink in the heat, she knew that she had chosen well.
Elain let her anger fuel her, her frustration that even standing nearly naked in front of him, he said nothing. Worse, he did nothing.
She let that anger overcome any fear that she had of standing in front of him, bare in every sense of the word.
Lithe fingers reached under the curtain of curls at her back to grasp the hook and eye at the back of the matching lace brassiere that was the same color of the peak of her nipples pressing uncomfortably against the fabric.
The straps slid down her slick shoulders, and then her small breasts hung heavy in front of him. Aching to be touched by the male who looked at her as if he was half-starved.
Still, she refused to look down past his waist, even though the sight of his arousal in her peripheral was almost impossible to ignore.
When her fingertips traced down her stomach to the waistline of the last remaining fabric covering her modesty, he finally moved. Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his open knees, back and shoulder muscles shifting like an animal sinking low in tall grass, waiting to strike.
He did not stop her, and in fact, she could sworn the look in his hazel eyes was edging her on, even as he seemed so conflicted.
Elain hooked her thumbs through the fabric at her hips, and gently rocked them back and forth as she slid the underwear off, dropping it casually on the pile of the rest of her clothes. A damp spot had darkened the pretty lace where it had rested against her core.
She had never seen the spymaster so undone - every muscle tensed, hazel eyes blazing as he looked at her. Heat pooled between her bare legs at the thoroughness in which he scanned her, devouring every exposed inch of her. Like something he could look at, but never taste - forbidden fruit.
From the flush of her overheated cheeks, curls flying madly around her face due to the steam, over her peaked breasts and slight curve of her lower belly, and then finally honing on the small patch of dark curls hiding the evidence of her own arousal, even as she rubbed her thighs together in an effort to quell it.
“You don’t know what you’re asking me to do, Elain,” he gritted through his clenched jaw.
That anger flared as hot as the heat surrounding them in the birchin as she spat back at him.
“I’m only asking you to fight for this - what I know we both want. What we deserve to have.”
At her words, Azriel turned his head, darkness sweeping over his black eye as he squeezed them shut.
But Elain would not be deterred.
“We deserve to be happy too, Azriel,” Elain insisted, her voice softening.
The sound of his name on her tongue caused him to let out a low, frustrated moan.
“Fight for me,” she all but begged him, her voice catching in her throat as it bobbed.
It was the way that desperation colored her voice. The way that she found him worthy, and sought him out, even when no one else did. It was the way she stood before him, willing to fight for the sliver of a chance that they could be happy together and see that happiness through to the end.
Azriel lunged over that line that he had all but choked himself staying on the proper side of, and fell to his knees in front of Elain Archeron.
At the swiftness in which he stood and strode across the room to her, Elain took a step back and pressed her back against the warm wall of the birchin.
“Why?” She asked, her voice hoarse. “Why did you leave me?”
From where he had fallen heavily to his knees at her feet, Azriel looked up at her… so utterly broken. Anguish coursing like a river through his blood.
“I’m so sorry,” was all he could offer in a guttered voice.
Elain shook her head, willing that anger to reemerge from her forgiving heart. She could not forgive him so easily.
Her brows knit as she let her eyes harden, staring down at him. She was going to make him work for it, for her. For what they had both suffered over the past year.
“Beg,” she commanded, her voice steeling as she looked down at him through a curtain of dampening curls that slid over her bare breasts.
Azriel’s broken expression twisted as he looked up at her - regret morphing into something more primal, more base than she had ever seen cross his face before.
She let out a small breath at the sight of it. As the fanged beasts inside of them both began to emerge.
Azriel dipped his head, and begged.
“Elain…” he whispered her name in between kisses pressed to her calf, her knee, her thigh, as he held her leg gingerly in his scarred hands, wings flaring slightly behind him.
Peacocking, she had once heard her sisters grumble at such displays of their own mates.
“You deserve the world, Elain…” His warm lips and tongue swiped at the trickles of sweat sliding down her long legs, as he carefully lifted one and placed it on his bare shoulder, sliding closer to her.
At the sight of his dark head growing ever closer to where she burned for him, Elain let out a small whimper.
A quick grin flashed across his face as Azriel’s hair fell over his forehead.
“Elain, please let me taste you…”
A male had never once kissed the place between her thighs before. Her few joinings with Graysen had been sweet, but inexperienced, and rather to the point.
Nothing like what was happening between her and the male on his knees before her.
But Elain was curious, if it was all that she read about in the books she had offered to return for Nesta, and then snuck back to her room to read herself.
“Yes,” she groaned, as Azriel’s mouth grew closer and closer to her center. One of his large hands raising to hold her thigh in place as it threatened to fall off his shoulder, the other coming up to steady her around the waist.
“Elain…” he looked up at her from between her legs, his voice reverent as his eyes met hers.
As soon as he pressed a soft kiss to the swollen bundle of nerves between her legs, Elain knew there would be no returning from this.
After that first gentle brush of his lips to her, Azriel let go. And became a man possessed as he tasted, no, devoured her. He moved his lips like he talked - slow and deep and sultry, as if he had all the time in the world.
Tears brimmed in the corner of her eyes at the pleasure he wrought upon her, slipping down her cheeks and mixing with the salt of her sweat as he swept between her legs with luxuriating sweeps of his tongue and teasing, gentle pulls of his teeth and lips.
Out of instinct, she began to grind her hips into his face, which only caused his eyes to roll back into his head as he tightened the grip around her thigh and waist. He groaned appreciatively, and as the vibration sent a shiver all the way up her spine through the base of her neck as she cried out.
She had never let herself be so… unleashed before. An animal, in many senses of the word, as she lost control of herself in his arms, on his tongue. Noises she would have blushed profusely at in her previous life escaped wantonly from her lips, and sweat mixed with the sweet musk of her arousal as Azriel drank every drop that she offered him.
When her stomach tightened, she tried to pull away on instinct, turning her head to the side and whimpering as the feeling grew and grew, ready to snap.
Azriel only tightened the grip on her leg, reaching his other hand between her thighs to press a scarred, ridge finger into her core, while at the same time taking that bundle of nerves in between his lips and sucking lightly.
At the feeling of him inside of her, finally, finally, Elain broke.
Crying out as she thrashed against him, her delicate muscles fluttering around him, his arm hled her steady as he worked her through it. Continuing the sweet kisses and licks as Elain saw an implosion of planets and stars and suns behind her closed eyes.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured as Elain’s movements slowed, his grip the only thing keeping her upright as the heat and the orgasm and the smear of her arousal over his lips threatened to send Elain to the ground.
Azriel gently lifted her thigh off his shoulder, setting it down so that she could retain her balance as he stood.
Before she could protest at the distance he was putting between them, he was kissing her. Kissing her with more than two years worth of passion and pain and desire.
“Do you like how you taste, Elain?” He asked in a low voice between breaths.
She drank him in, their intermingled scents and arousals twisting and melding, and it was the most beautiful thing she had ever once known.
Sooner than she thought possible, a fresh flood of arousal began to trickle down her thighs.
“Elain…” Azriel groaned against her lips, his eyes fluttered close as she began kissing his neck, breathing in the scent of him as if it was the very last time.
There had been nights when she had laid awake at night, dreaming of him touching her like this, when her thoughts had spiraled. Wondering if one time would indeed be all they had someday, if that. If Azriel would find a mate, and choose a path for himself that did not include her.
Even with his hands massaging her breasts, her shoulders, her ass as she kissed his neck, Elain’s heart began to clench as she thought about that - that this could be their only time to be together.
“Azriel…” she begged, desperation creeping into her voice as she pulled away from the soft column of his tattooed neck.
He looked back at her as if he would offer her the whole world, if she only asked. Hazel eyes blown wide as he stared back at her deeply.
“I need you,” she whispered, pressing her bare body into his - his ever warmer still even in the heat of the birchin.
“Of course,” he murmured in reply, as if she had merely asked for a cup of tea.
Lifting her easily in his arms, Elain’s back was pressed once more against the wall. The heat from the wooden structure heating her spine while Azriel’s warm chest pressed into her own.
Golden brown curls twisted between them both, tangling between and over their bodies as Azriel kissed her again, opening the space between her legs as he pressed into it slowly, with a single glance down between to where they were almost connected.
“I want you,” Elain reassured him, any anger replaced by desperation to feel him moving inside of her, to be as connected to him as physically possible. “Please.”
Azriel moved, and Elain’s mouth parted in a soft oh at the feeling of him pressing into her, a beautifully tight fit that had her aching, but ever desperate for more, more, of him.
“Fuck,” he swore, as he leaned down to press a kiss to the exposed expanse of her creamy neck. Pressing in and in and in.
He paused, when he was fully seated inside of her. Elain was breathless, her head spinning at the sensation - but she had never felt so full, so connected to another living being in her life.
No words were exchanged between them, as a single look swore a lifetime - eons of pleasure and love and happiness and everything.
And when he began to move, Elain felt the earth fall away beneath them. And nothing else mattered, not anymore.
Not when he was holding her like this, moving like that, and they were both spinning out of control so fast that nothing could tether them or keep them apart.
She could feel the moment he was about to come, even as the tightly wound thread threatened to snap once more inside of her. His shoulders tensed, and his thrusts became sloppier, a little rougher as he pressed deeper and deeper inside of her. With each pass of his hips, his pelvis caught on her clit and sent white spots casting across her vision.
Extended wings flared out even further, darkness enveloping them inside their great shadow as she took him into her body.
At the cool whisper of his darkness comforting her overheated skin, his lips whispering praise and promises into her neck, Elain fell, and brought him over the edge with her, freefalling from that cliff without a set of wings to catch her.
A little death, but also so much life.
He gave her all that he had. And she welcomed every last part of him.
She hoped that the fates were watching. And that they, and whoever else in the skies above had dared try to keep them apart now trembled at their beauty, at the rightness in how their bodies were intertwined and fit together so utterly perfectly.
It was over too soon, and Elain opened her eyes to find him carefully carrying her over to the nearby bench and setting her down in his lap, still connected.
She played with the damp hair at the nape of his neck as he settled them, letting his scarred hand trace up and down her back.
After a quiet moment as they both slowed their heaving breaths, and clarity returned to Elain’s vision, he gently lifted her, even as they both cringed at the sensation of being a little bit empty once again.
Once she was resettled and draped across his lap, they exchanged a few more minutes of silence filled with salty kisses and a delicate caress of fingers on bare skin, exploring each other much more softly and slowly than before.
Elain pressed a gentle touch to Azriel’s brow, tracing around the bruised skin that was only worsening by the minute.
“I’m sorry you lost the snowball fight,” she said, trying to not let a smile betray her as she examined the wound.
“If this is how I’m consoled, I am more than happy to ruin my winning streak,” Azriel replied with a smirk, pressing a long kiss to her lips.
“We can’t tell anyone about this, can we?” Elain asked, her voice soft as she looked at him. The idea of hiding such a life-changing moment a challenge for her, who had always experienced such joys unbridled, unhindered.
“For now,” Azriel agreed, soothing her with a swipe of his thumb against her downturned lips. “But not forever.”
Tag List: @123moiaussi @ultadverb @reverie-tales @illyrian-dreamer @demarogue @elriel-month
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areyoudreaminof · 7 months
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Rhys Week: Step by Aching Step, Son
For @officialrhysandweek Day 5: Family Man.
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After pulling Nyx out of the Illyrian War camps, Rhys tries to explain his decision to a disappointed Nyx.
Oh, I'm coming now for you Step by aching step, son Then I'll lead you by the hand And we'll fall into the blue
Foals-Stepson
It was high time to have this discussion, he thought. They hadn’t spoken much the past few weeks. The silence and tension that chaos left behind was still thick in the air. So, Rhys took a deep breath before he tapped the door softly and entered Nyx’s room. 
“Hello, Papa.” The boy said, looking up from his sketchbook, as he sprawled out in his large bed. Nyx wings were tucked behind him tightly, Rhys noticed with a twinge of guilt. “Mind if I sit with you?” He asked. Nyx nodded, as Rhys made his way over. Still, he studied his son’s room, taking in the piles of books on the desk that had been pressed up against the wall. Small models of buildings sat there as well. Rhys had never thought much about architecture before Nyx, who built things as sons as he could play. A shirt was thrown carelessly over a chair, while a small wooden owl lay half carved on the dresser. Each and everything in his son’s room, placed just so. It was almost like taking a look into Nyx’s mind, something he and Feyre agreed on was off limits unless needed. Why throw this shirt here? Rhys thought, Who is the wooden owl for? What do you see when you build these models? 
I see what the building could be. Nyx's soft reply came to his mind, surprising Rhys, who had not noticed his mental blocks were down. Like Mama’s paintings, I see what they are in my mind and try to match it. 
“The owl really isn’t for anyone,” he said out loud, “I was just bored the other day, I haven’t finished it.” 
“I remember the owls at the camps.” Rhys said as he stroked the carved beak on the owl. “Uncle Azriel thought they were the other boys trying to steal from us at night, so Uncle Cass took it upon himself to hoot everytime Uncle Azriel went to piss at night.” Nyx chuckled at the memory Rhys sent over; Azriel jumping and pulling up his pants while Cassian hooted from behind. 
Rhys settled on the bed next to his son. Nyx had his mother’s talent for art though he preferred to sketch buildings and plants, as well as the occasional animal portrait for his cousins at the Day Court. The short time spent in the war camps was difficult for Nyx, but the reports that made their way back to Rhys made his son’s presence known. Namely, the heir to the Night Court had a penchant for carving the insignia onto every single wooden surface he could, including the posts on Devlon’s tent. Nyx had his mothers talent, and her fire, for better or worse. 
Peering over at the sketches, Rhys saw the massive round table with the Night Court insignia drawn in the center. Illyrians and High Fae surrounded it, posed in mid motion. “What is this? It’s really wonderful.” he asked as Nyx tilted the small book towards him. 
“Just an idea, I guess. I thought it could be some sort of hall for us and the Illyrians.” Nyx said, as he flipped to another page. A sketch showed a great longhall of wood and stone. “It could be a sort of neutral meeting place. It would be between the camps and the villages. Probably easier.” Nyx shrugged as he flipped back to the sketch of the round table. “I keep messing around with the table though. Round seemed more equal, kind of like what High Lord Thesan has at the Dawn Court.” 
“Incredible.” Rhys murmured as he studied his son’s face. His brow was furrowed in concentration as his pencil flew across the paper. Absently, Nyx began to suck on his top lip, the same habit he’d had since he was a toddler. Rhys supposed now was as good of a time as any to talk about his decision to withdraw Nyx from the camps. 
It had been less than two years since Nyx had entered. It had been difficult at first. Feyre felt that eight was too young, but Nyx was determined to go. Cassian and Nesta, who had stationed themselves in Illyria, said Nyx had a hard time with the boys as expected, but was managing to train and hold his own. The situation in Illyria was growing more unsteady by the day, and the most recent threat against Nyx was a call far too close.
In the weeks since returning to Velaris, Nyx had been understandably quiet, retreating to his room or the library at the House of the Wind. Rhys knew that Nyx did not know the full extent of the threat the commanders posed, and he knew he could not hide it from his son any longer. 
“Nyx, I’m sorry about everything. Pulling you out of the camp, putting you in there in the first place.” Rhys rubbed his eyes, struggling to find the words to pinpoint his feelings.
“It’s alright Papa, I understand.” Nyx said softly as he stared ahead. 
“It’s not. I know the camps are hard, and I wanted you to have that experience, despite everything. It’s your heritage, and you’ll rule these people someday.” Rhys replied quickly, “Eight was too young, I realize that now, especially with how things are going. It’s too dangerous to have you up there-” 
“I know, I know.” Nyx said, as he bit his upper lip in thought. “I knew it was going to be hard, and I was ready for it. I knew they’d give me a harder time. I guess…” he paused for a moment, mirroring his father’s expression as he too searched for the right words, “You got to meet Uncle Cass and Uncle Az there, and I think I wanted that too. I wanted to find my own brothers and do the Blood Rite. I’m not ashamed of our family or myself, but I feel, I don’t know, frustrated because I can’t control it. I’m the little princeling that got swept away when things got too hard.” Rhys sighed as Nyx quickly added, “I understand why you did it. But I just don’t know where to go from here.” Nyx flopped his head back onto the pillow as he set his sketchbook down on his bedside table. 
Rhys put his arm around Nyx’s shoulders, pulling him close to his chest. Feyre insisted their son would never be too old for a hug, and at this very moment, Rhys agreed. Their son was nothing short of a gift, a miracle, one that he tried every single day to prove himself worthy of. Being a father, being Nyx’s father was greater than anything Rhys had ever done in his life, of that he was certain. It was with that certainty that he made the decision to bring Nyx home to Velaris, when Azriel had discovered the plot just in time. 
Two commanders from the camp had been planning to clip Nyx’s wings. 
It was only by the grace of the Mother that Nyx was with Cassian in the training ring when the males tried to attack. Cassian sent them running and Rhys and Feyre came to fetch their son home immediately, but not before he and his brothers rained hell on the camp. Rhys had not given a second thought to misting those commanders, a righteous rage simmering inside of him at the mere thought of those males even thinking to touch his son in such a way. In the back of his mind, he knew his own father wouldn’t have come to his defense, and that made him more sick. 
“I didn’t pull you out because things were getting hard. You are not a spoiled little princeling, Nyx. You were doing so well. Uncle Cassian and Aunt Nesta said as much. I pulled you out because there was a threat against you that I could not ignore.” he felt his heart race, and he took a breath to calm himself. 
“Those men who tried to kill me at the training ring? The ones that Uncle Cass chased off?” Nyx said flatly, as he looked up at Rhys. 
“They weren’t trying to kill you, Nyx. They were trying to clip you.” Rhys whispered. 
Nyx’s eyes grew wide and Rhys felt a wave of nausea broil inside him. He felt a tinge of concern from Feyre down the bond, but ignored it as he turned to fully face Nyx. 
“You are my priority, over Illyria, over everything, Nyx. I want you safe, and you were not safe there.” 
Nyx nodded as he worried at his lip again, “I didn’t know that’s what they were trying to do. I thought they were like that drunk old male that tried to come after me. I didn’t think it was anything. So, I’m not going back to the camps, ever?” he asked.
“You’ll go back one day.” Rhys promised, “You will find your own brothers and you will complete the Blood Rite. But now is not the time. You will have that time, I promise you that. But you’ll just have to wait a while longer for it. When it is safe, and the situation is under control, you’ll go back. In the meantime you’ll train here and Helion has offered to train you as well.” 
“Alright.” Nyx said softly, resting his head on Rhys’s shoulder. “I love you Papa.”   
Rhys hugged his son tighter. Ten years had gone by too fast for him, he thought. “I love you too, Nyx.”
A soft knock at the door startled them both as Feyre peeked her head in.  
“Any room on that bed for one more?” she asked as both Nyx and Rhys scooted over as she laid down next to Nyx, kissing his cheek. “We love you more than anything, Nyx. Don’t ever forget that.” Rhys felt a quiet sort of harmony over him, the same one he always felt when he was with Feyre and Nyx alone. They sat like that for a while longer, holding one another as nocturnal animals sang outside. 
Later, after Nyx had fallen asleep, Rhys held onto Feyre, stroking her hair, as she lay on his chest. 
“Should I have told him what those males had planned to do?” he asked Feyre quietly. “And before you make some remark about hiding things, I just didn’t want to terrify him.” 
Feyre huffed a small laugh, “You know better than anyone what happens when you hide things. But, I think you did the right thing. He didn’t know exactly what had happened, and I think he would have blamed himself instead.” 
“Heard that, did you?” Rhys said, flicking Feyre’s nose.
“How could I not? You were so nervous, I had to make sure you had back up.” she said, as she smiled, “You did wonderfully, Rhys.” She rose, hovering over him and taking his face into her small hands. “You’re a good father, Rhys. A good mate and a good male. It’s not going to be an easy road, whatever happens. But we have each other.”
Rhys pulled Feyre down, his lips catching hers as he held her tighter. They had each other. This was what he fought wars for, what he lied for, what he cheated for. He would make the world better for his son, Rhys promised himself. He had done the right thing for his family, of that he was certain. 
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chunkypossum · 2 months
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WIP Wednesday
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UNEDITED so like ... don't look at me while you read it... but I feel like I'm finally getting somewhere with their personalities so it is exciting and even though it will probably change a lot, i'm sharing anyway. Also, don't get attached to OC's name... I keep changing it. He will probably get 15 new names before I settle on one. A little snippet from my WIP Half in the Shadows, which is a like a what if spin off of Kerosene.
Making them go through one more trial before their HEA (Azriel x Eris) while also partially passing on the story to the next-gen (Nyx x OC)
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The weight of them was oppressing, by design of course, even on the outskirts, the magic pressed onto his skin like it was trying to push him away. Despite the relentless pressure, Ree didn’t move. He stayed cradled in the lightly dappled darkness, cataloging the sounds and waited. It was quiet, always so deathly quiet here but, as if brought to him via the shadows around him, Ree could detect even what others of his kind couldn’t.   Leaves crunched under tiny hooves to his right. Not the old sodden leaves from the well worn path he had come from, but the dry crunch of the newly fallen leaves near the border that he was just a step or two away from. In fact, there was a riot of movement all around him from creatures and beasts alike both dangerous and harmless. Just beyond the veil of the mist a whole new set of creatures loomed. He could almost make out their eyes watching him from the other side, almost taste their scents on the light breeze. None of them were the one he was waiting on.  There. Ree’s ears twitched as a new sound filled them. Giant paws, thudding softly on damp ground, avoiding every stick, every dried leaf. What they could not avoid was Ree’s attention. He caught the sound of them almost too late though, lost in his cataloging, as he tended to do. The anxiety from the bait he used to lure the creature out was palpable, Ree smiled, trying hard not to roll his eyes. If he didn’t act soon, his friend would blow their cover, then they would be in real trouble, but it wasn’t time… just a little closer.  Padded steps seemed to slow as they grew nearer and nearer to their prey. A steady heartbeat began speeding up and the taste of salt from sweat beaded in the air. Ree’s senses were on fire and he was nearly lost to the euphoria of it which threatened to upend his plan entirely.  Any. Time. Now.  Those three words, though in his head, sounded as if they were spoken through grit teeth. Ree shook his head and smiled, digging his toes into the dirt, as he waited.  Shhh. He replied back. He'll sense you faster that way.  Ree didn't have to see it to feel a giant eye roll directed straight at him. He narrowed his focus until only the sound of his breathing filled his ears.  One… two… the faint gristle of the dirt twisting under his toes gave him away and the beast’s ears perked up and twisted his way. Now or never.  “Three!” Ree yelled as he sprint off into the barrier between his world and the next. In a fit of fury, teeth and claws twisted his way and made straight for him. Ree’s smile widened. The beast was to his right, running at him with a speed that nearly outmatched his own, nearly.  Footfalls, wrapped in soft leather, ran parallel to his own and the beast let out a snarl that let them know he is fully aware of the way they played him, letting it serve as a warning that it wouldn’t happen again.  Ree wanted to laugh because of course it would work again. It worked every time. As if to prove his point, Ree slowed, turning this way and that through the earth bound cloud, giving his counterpart time to catch up and reach the other side before the beast wizened up as realized that the other would make for much easier catching. He was fast, just not as fast as Ree. No one was. It wasn’t bragging if it was true, and it didn’t count as prideful if he didn’t say it out loud. Just as the swish of claws swiping in the air grazed against his ankle, Ree reached the other side of the barrier, breaching it just in time.  He flew straight into outstretched arms that were waiting for him. A buffer from the speed of his mad dash. Ree hit the hard muscled chest of his best friend and wings wrapped around them both tightly as the momentum sent them careening back into the soft mossy flesh of the earth. Nyx let out a pained grunt as the air was forced from his lungs and Ree fell on top of him, laughing.  “Fucking. Show off.” Nyx growled
Holla at ya boi if you want on or off the Azris tag train : @talibunny30 @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot @pathfinderofnight @fell-in-luvs @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee
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coffeepancakes42 · 2 years
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Numb
Azriel x Reader
Summary: You catch Azriel with the person he swore meant nothing to him
Warnings: angst angst and more angst, cheating, extreme thoughts of suicide
A/N: After getting a request for some Azriel angst I present you with this. Say two of Azriel week!
Word Count: 1.7k
You knew something was wrong when Azriel kept coming home late from the townhouse, little words spoken as he slipped into bed trying not to wake you. But little did he know you hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the past few weeks, your mind constantly racing with thoughts you desperately tried to push away.  You couldn’t remember the last time Azriel had genuinely smiled at you, his eyes now caught on a certain brunette. But he had never shown you anything but unconditional love for the past 70 years, and that had to be worth something.
But it all came to a climax one evening. Azriel was set to return over three hours ago, but alas the Illyrian hadn’t even set a single foot into your shared apartment. Of course he had to brief Rhysand with his findings, but that only took an hour at the longest, Rhysand usually letting him go shortly so he could return to you. Huffing a sigh, you slip on your shoes and walk out the door, walking the familiar path to the new manor Rhysand had built Feyre. Restaurants were bustling with life, countless fae taking advantage of the last bit of warmth left before winter.
A newly mated couple drunkenly staggered out of a bar, their lovesick eyes sending a stabbing pain through your heart. God when was the last time Azriel looked at you with so much love? Your stomach twisted as you drew a blank. The last time you had seen Azriel so happy was when you had traveled to the manor to have dinner with the inner circle, your mate standing in the corner and smiling a rare smile at Elain Archeron. Just the mention of her name made you want to scream. She was everything you werent; soft, kind, and absolutely stunning. Tears pricked at your eyes as you realized this might be it; this might be the end of the once beautiful relationship you shared with your mate.
Arriving at the door of the sprawling mansion, you knocked twice before the door flung open by an adorable looking Nyx. Crouching down you scooped him into your arms, blowing raspberries into his exposed tummy. His loud shrieks of laughter brought Feyre to the door, her loving gaze focused on the little boy in your arms.
“Y/N how can I help you?” Feyre asked softly, her eyes kind but curious at the late hour you were arriving at. “Is Azriel here? He never came back home and he told me he was suppose to be home a few hours ago.” Confusion shone in the High Lady’s face. “Azriel has been here for the past couple hours, he said you were out of town on a trip.” At that your stomach dropped, and worry crossed Feyre’s face as she beheld your now pale face. Barging in, you briskly walked through the rooms of the manor searching for your mate.
It was a soft giggle from out in the garden that drew your attention. Creeping up beside the window that overlooked the gardens, you saw Azriel and Elain sitting on a bench, much too close together for your liking. Picking up a white flower that glowed in the moonlight, Azriel reached up and placed it in Elain's hair causing her to scooch closer. Bile rose in your throat as you screamed at yourself to look away, to avoid seeing what you knew was to come.
But you couldn’t, not as Azriel placed a hand softly on her cheek, and leaning down to place a soft kiss on her lips. In that moment, every suffocating thought and feeling you had kept hidden from the past weeks exploded, your walls not coming up fast enough causing your pain to fly down the bond to where Azriel's walls stood tall. You distantly saw Azriel stagger back from the onslaught of emotions, looking up to catch your eyes as you turned and practically ran out of the house.
You saw Feyre holding Nyx by the entryway, your tears alarming her as she jumped up and ran to see what you had seen. Feyre wasnt stupid, she saw how close Elain and Azriel had grown, but she thought after the warnings Rhysand and her had issued to th both of them they would stay away. But one look at the looks in both their eyes as they stood shocked in the garden told Feyre everything. Shooting a scathing look at the both of them she turned to get Nyx and alert Rhys of what had happened, your grief stricken face long gone from the entryway.
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You didn't know where you were running to, all you knew is that you willed your legs to take you farther away from the wretched place behind you. You felt tears running down your face, probably appearing like a madwoman to the citizens of Velaris. But you couldn’t care less about what they thought at that moment. Pain crashed over you in waves, your heart shriveling and dying right in front of your eyes as you ran.
You didn't want to return to your apartment, you wanted to avoid the memories that would flood your mind at the sight of the place. But you needed to gather your things, and have time to think about where you could go. Arriving at the door, you ran to your room, a place you once felt the most at peace in when it was just you and your mate furled into one another while you listened to each other's heartbeats. Grabbing a bag, you stuffed a couple pairs of shirts and trousers, your vision blurry from the tears. Walking back out, your eyes scanned the kitchen to see if there was any food to take with you, your eyes landing on the assortment of knives you had for cooking.
You were the most calm you had been in the past few weeks as you approached the rack. Picking a smaller one up you saw what you could do. All of your pain, all of the pain you would feel in the future, the stabs to your heart you would have to endure whenever you saw them together; it could all go away right now. A crash at your front door pulled you away from your dark thoughts, Azriel’s silhouette taking up the entrance. He was panting, and pain lined his eyes. Usually you would rush to him, demand what was wrong and then take as best care of him as you could. But frankly all you wanted to do right now was to beat the ever loving shit out of him.
And he saw this in your eyes. “You could have just told me. You could have broken it off weeks ago. It still would have killed me but anything, and I mean anything, would be better than seeing that,” you say, desperately trying to make your voice sound more stable. Regret flashed in Azriel’ eyes, but as soon as it was there, it was gone, replaced by a black stare.
“I'm leaving. I’m leaving Velaris and I hope you never have a moment's peace. I hope what you have done here tonight haunts you, and I hope this bond never lets you forget how you broke my heart.” Standing straight you walk out past him but are stopped by his hand catching your wrist. A touch that used to make your stomach flutter now felt like a burn, wrenching your hand away from him as you take a final look at the shadowsinger.
“You have a life here. You can't just abandon it because we aren’t together anymore.” Azriel says, something like hurt flashing in his eyes at your words. Good. “This place is no longer my home. I’ll find a new place to call home and start a life there. I’ll keep in contact with the rest of the inner circle, but I’m telling you now, you will never see me again, Azriel.” And with that you turned, and readied yourself to winnow to the cabin you had in the day court, a private retreat only a few people in your life knew about.
Taking one last look at the city you loved, you winnowed away, leaving everything you once were behind you. Landing in your cabin, you immediately went to the desk you had, bringing out some old parchment you had, writing a letter to Feyre and Rhys, explaining your situation. Finishing it, you sent it directly to the manor knowing you would get a heated response in the morning.
Finally alone, you sank to the floor and screamed. You screamed and sobbed for the life you had just lost. For the love and romance you knew you would never feel again. At the bond that now sat empty, your walls blocking off any connection to Azriel. You sobbed until you couldn't anymore, your head pounding against the wood floor as you lay there, staring into the darkness of the cabin.
You willed the floor to swallow you whole, to take you away from this life, this pain. Your limbs felt weighed down by some invisible force that had set out on crushing you. Slowly, you felt all emotions and thoughts ebb away, a numb static feeling consuming you, washing out everything you once were. Color seeped away from your vision, a gray version of the world now left. Closing your eyes, you allow sleep to consume you, praying to any god that would listen that this was a dream, a sick, twisted nightmare that you would wake up from in the arms of your mate. The harsh feeling of wood digging into your skin was the last thing you remembered before slipping into the clutches of sleep.
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icon-cloud · 2 months
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Nighttime Wonderings
A request Submitted by @sister-nyx
Includes: OC, Nightmares, Angst, Comfort, OC/Mountain. It's really very soft.
WC: 1,648
Nyx couldn’t remember what she was dreaming about, but the panic she felt was still there and very much real. She woke up curled on her side, breathing too fast and perspiration making her hair slicked back, hugging her scalp. Sitting up, she placed a hand on her chest in an attempt to slow her breathing. This only marginally worked as she stared around her dark room.
 Usually, her room stood as a reprieve for her. It blocked out noise and it was all hers, there was no need to worry about someone coming in or encroaching on her space. Tonight, it would seem, that her solitude was not bringing her comfort in its usual fashion. Desperately she wished for her sister's soothing tone. 
Jocelyn would always comfort her when she woke up, more often than not, paralyzed from a nightmare. So, as she stared into her dark and empty room, she decided that she couldn’t stay. She needed to be out. 
Out where the darkness didn’t weigh on her as it slowly suffocated her in its silence. Where there had once been whispered secrets, desperate assurances. She couldn’t stay, reminded of her loss that still felt as fresh and empty as the day it happened. 
Standing up, she forewent her usual modest dress and chose to stay in her nightgown. The only thing she decided to grab was a soft woolen shawl that Cumulus kindly gave her as a thanks to mentoring Phantom in the infirmary when he first arrived. She smiled fondly at the memory of receiving this gift before looping it over her shoulders and clutched it closely. 
Armed with a barrier to combat the wind, Nyx set out for the Monasteries grounds. She didn’t know where she was going, but outside seemed better than being confined to the still air and deafening silence.
Soon, she found herself standing in the open threshold of a heavy door leading outside. For a moment she just stood. Leaning against the cool stone wall, she closed her eyes and breathed in relief as the midnight wind brushed her face. Almost reverently, the wind danced around her figure, causing her hair to dry and her heart to slow down. No longer was there an oppressive silence hovering over her prone figure. 
Instead the trees were dancing with the wind, causing a soft swooshing sound to flow around the grounds. In the distance, she heard the small stream laughing gaily not too far. Where the frogs resided and the crickets tuned in with the surrounding sounds. 
Frowning gently, she opened her eyes and set forth on a small journey. Arriving at the stream, Nyx sat next to the willow tree and sighed into the surrounding sounds as she hugged her knees and placed her chin atop them. There was still an emptiness. Grief still shrouded her tonight. And it was exhausting, always so exhausting.  
Staring across the stream, stuck in her head, she didn’t notice the soft footsteps approaching her. It wasn’t until she heard a soft spoken, baritone voice call her name did she realize that she wasn’t alone anymore. 
Causing her to jump with a shrill shout, she turned to see an imposing dark figure, hovering over her spot next the the stream. Flinching, she backed away. The progress she made to come down after her nightmare was lost as her heart sped back up, and her breathing came in short gasps. Shakily standing, she took a step back and placed her hands in front of her.
“Woah, woah, Nyx! Hey, it's me!” Mountain quickly crouched to make himself appear smaller, before continuing, “It’s Mountain dove, it’s alright!”
Stopping wide eyed, Nyx stared at the crouched figure before her until registering the name he used for her. Hesitantly, she lowered her hands and said, “Sweet Lucifer Mount, what the hell are you doin sneakin up on people! Damn near gave me a heart attack hun!” 
Snorting softly he replied, “Well, I didn’t purposely sneak up on you dove, but I do happen to be a ghoul of the earth. I tend to blend in here.” Standing he approached Nyx and frowned slightly. Reaching towards her, he gently brushed a stray blue strand from her face. He noticed that she was more ashen than usual before gently prompting, “You’re not one to roam the grounds at night. What’s wrong Nyx?”
Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes and leaned her head into his warm palm. She didn’t say anything when she opened her eyes to look at him through her lashes. Quietly, she opened her arms to him and made a quizzical note in the back of her throat. 
Mountain smiled sweetly at her silent inquiry before wrapping her firmly into his arms and nuzzled her hair. Nyx leaned into his warmth, closing her eyes once more. This didn’t stop tears from leaking out under her eyelids. She didn’t stop them from coming. No, she had been trying, unsuccessfully, to cry for so long. Why would she stop them from happening now?
Gasping wetly she leaned further onto his chest and squeezed him once more before leaning back. Wiping her face, she looked up and smiled at the taller ghoul. Mountain in turn, returned her smile and stared at her, drinking in her image. 
She was lovely in this light with the moon looking down on them both, drowning in the gentle silver of its waning face. Tilting his head, he raised his hand once more to her face. Using the pad of his thumb, he traced under her eye wiping away any dampness. Before turning his hand over to brush her cheek, taking with it any wetness left over. 
“So here I was,” he said in a soft tone, “walking. Listening to the forest speak. When I saw the most beautiful ghoulette, none of that dear.” He interjected before continuing, “The most beautiful ghoulette sitting alone under a tree in the middle of the night. She looked so alone. I needed to tell her, in some way, that she wasn’t.” 
She began to purr softly, as she closed her eyes and leaned her head more into his palm and listened to his speech, “She needed reminding that she has someone who loves her.” He leaned closer to her face, “Someone she should let in more often.” He whispered these final words onto her lips and paused, waiting.
Humming slightly, she reached up and brought her arms around his neck. She laughed through her nose and smiled, before opening her eyes to look into his own. Angling her face forward, she lightly rubbed her nose against his before tilting her head to brush her lips against his. 
With this one action, she allowed all her fears to melt away. It was just as sweet and tender as the first time they kissed. Starting slowly, they both nipped at the others lips until, finally, the small gaps ceased to exist. Nyx found herself prodding Mountain’s lips, silently asking to be allowed in. 
He smiled into their kiss, an outcome to her asking so adorably, in his mind, and granted her entrance to his mouth. Initially, she had full control over him until he decided to play as well.  
What had at first started as a gentle assurance to them both, quickly morphed into a battle of dominance. When one pushed into the other, they took in the essence of each other. Mountain soon took advantage of his height over Nyx, by angling his face down, he held her unyieldingly. In doing so, he carved safety from his own being and leant his protection to her, a promise made, one that would forever be kept. 
Nipping him one last time, she leaned her head back, choosing to nuzzle Mountain's neck. Peppering small kisses onto him, Nyx leaned her forehead on his shoulder and took a deep shuddering breath. Weakly she whispered in a broken voice, “I, uh. I had a bad dream. I don’t remember what it was about.” Pausing she squeezed her eyes shut and leaned further into his embrace, “I woke up and I was alone.”
Leaning back she chose to look into Mountain's eyes for a second before looking down. Raising a hand, she traced his features softly as she continued to whisper into the space between them, “I’ve always had night terrors. Josie would always help me with them. I-” tears welled in her eyes when her voice broke, “I woke up alone, and it was so dark.” 
She leaned into his chest once more before whispering in a broken voice, “So dark. I had to clear my head and I didn’t want to wake you up. So I came out here.” Turning away slightly, she took in the scenery once more and said, “It’s peaceful out here, it’s almost enough to stop the inside voices.” She turned to him with a small smile tilting her head, “You know?”
Mountain hummed softly in response and gently tapped his forehead against hers. He pulled away slightly to circle behind her. Never relinquishing his hold, he encircled Nyx’s waist and hugged her from behind. Softly, he placed his head atop hers to look at what she could see. 
Without any pollution from a nearby city, the stars shone brightly. Muted by the surrounding darkness, you could barely make out the lush green of the surrounding soft hills. The creek before them reflected the moon, allowing just the smallest bit of more light. Almost like an offering gifted to them both.
He smiled when Nyx placed her arms on top of his, lacing their fingers together he replied, “I know what you mean my dove.” 
Nothing else was exchanged between them as they continued to bask in each other's presence. They gently swayed together and took comfort in knowing that they wouldn’t be alone the rest of the night.
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purpleyoonn · 10 months
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baby (you complete us) 10
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C H A P T E R   T E N 
Summary: Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches.
Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.
Genre: soulmate au, idol au, angst, fluff, eventual smut,
Pairing: Idol BTS x Disabled MC
Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, disabled mc (Ehlers Danlos syndrome), eventual smut, fluff, lots of fluff, mentions of disability, simp bangtan
Chapter Warnings: protective bangtan, anxious mc, jungkook saving the mc, hate against foreigners, bond exploration, lots of jungkook/mc love
*Words in Italics are spoken/written in Korean*
beta'd/edited by the lovely @babyarmybias​
masterlist // chapter 9 // chapter 11
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Previously on baby (you complete us):
“Well then, let me know if there is anything else you need. Congratulations Mr. and Mr. and Mrs. Kim.” Jimin helped you up, placing his hand on the small of your back again, letting your body slowly lean into his.
“Let’s go get some food, baby.” Jimin whispered in your ear, his voice soft and so comforting that you feel like you had always been here, always been in his arms. Like you had always been safe and taken care of.
You knew then and there that you would accept letting them take care of you in the ways that they wished, this feeling of safety and care something you needed to hold onto, and trusted them to give, only hoping they would feel the same with towards you.
The Korean BBQ place the boys had taken you to was a hole-in-the-wall place, inconspicuous and rightly so. It was the perfect place to just get away for a while, no one to worry about following you.
The interior was sleek and shiny, everything seeming to catch your eye as the host showed you and the boys to a booth in the back, hidden by one of the large dividers that seemed to separate every table or booth from one another.
“Thank you.” You nodded your head to the host, who seemed to only blink at you before walking away. You pouted a little at his behavior, not used to this kind of reaction when you were trying to be polite. Maybe things are different in Korea? You thought.
Jimin sat down first, then Taehyung gestured for you to sit in between the two. You thought it was just them being nice, but really, they wanted you in between them to keep you safe. They felt better knowing that they were on the outside of the booth, helping to keep their protective instincts at bay with you in the middle.
“Here, baby.” Jimin spoke up, handing you a menu from the stack on the edge of the table. You took the menu from him while also trying to take in your surroundings. You recognized the grill plate in the middle of the table, and the bowls of banchan, familiar with a couple of the side dishes placed in front of you.
Unfortunately, you didn’t recognize any of the words on the menu, struggling with your minimal knowledge of Hangul to be able to make out any of the dishes or options. You recognized bulgogi, but that was it.
“I, uhm, I will just have whatever you are going to order.” You told your soulmates, feeling a little uncomfortable that you couldn’t read the menu. You felt a little dumb, which was stupid as it was an entirely new language for you. You couldn’t possibly be expected to know the language within the span of a couple weeks.
“Oh, darling. We’re sorry. Here.” Taehyung moved closer and sat right next to you, his thigh touching yours as he began to read the menu to you. His voice was soft, nothing in the way of feeding your embarrassment. He made you feel safe.
Jimin began to look over your other shoulder, his chin rested on you as he also listened to Taehyung rattle off the different meat options to you. It felt nice, almost domestic even, as you sat there on your date. You froze as your eyes widened in shock.
Oh my. This was a date, wasn’t it?
Your shock was cut off by Jimin’s phone ringing, the singer leaving to answer it once he saw the caller ID. That left you and Taehyung, until his phone rang as well. You saw it was Jin, but the older man moved out of the booth and a couple feet away as he answered the call.
You were now left alone in the center of the booth, an open menu in front of you. You tried to remember how Taehyung described the different options, mouthing the words as you read them slowly to yourself, trying to become familiar with them. You had heard that would help you to better learn the language.
“What will you be ordering?” The host from before came over with a notepad, staring you down with what you see as a slight distaste. You didn’t know what he said though, and you could only assume he came to take the food order.
“Uhm…” You have no clue what the boys were going to order, and they were not here to answer that so you were unsure what to do. For now, you could try to order the bulgogi at least. You guessed that would be a common meat for Korean BBQ.
You tried reading out some things from the menu only to hear a scoff.
“Stupid foreigners.” The man snapped his notepad shut, making you look back down at the menu, feeling extremely embarrassed and uncomfortable. “You don’t need to be eating anyways.” The man looked you up and down, only furthering your embarrassment and having you cross your arms in front of your stomach.
“Excuse me.” You didn’t look up at the new voice, trying to hide the small tear that had gathered its way to your waterline. You knew by the tone of the host’s voice that you were being insulted, and you could only guess the reason why.
You had read about the hate that some foreigners faced while in Korea, but for some reason, you never really expected to experience it for yourself. You also never really thought you would step foot in Korea, either.
The host turned around to see Jungkook behind him, his expression enraged and causing the host to tense up. Jungkook’s eyes were narrowed, lips pursed as he looks the host right in the eyes.
Jungkook had heard from Jimin where they were going to take you and had asked to come along. He knew the older four were busy in meetings this morning, specifically to discuss you and measures for your safety and how the impact from your announcement and accounts on social media would go. The younger soulmate didn’t want to be alone and wanted to spend time with you as well.
What he didn’t expect was to show up to you sitting by yourself, almost in tears as the host who should have been taking your order harassing you. That was not gonna slide with him.
“You are going to bring us our normal order, send your manger with it, and you will do this after you apologize to my soulmate. Now.” Jungkook’s tone was scary, it had you tensing up and looking up to see the way he looked at the host.
You had no clue he would be coming, and you were a little happy to know that you would no longer be alone, even if only for a couple of seconds.
“I am sorry, Miss.”
“In English.” Jungkook hissed out in English, sorely losing his patience with the host.
“I am sorry, Miss.” The host almost spat out as he shook in his spot before rushing off and away from the scary soulmate standing at the end of the booth.
You watched as Jungkook then scooted into the booth, sitting next to you, and pulling you into his arms.
“I am sorry about him. You did nothing wrong. Where are Jimin and Taehyung?” Jungkook reassured you before asking where his other soulmates were. 
“They both got phone calls.” You pushed out, feeling more comfortable now that you were in his arms. You could tell by what happened that Jungkook just defended you, and you appreciated it, scooting even closer to the larger man and placing your head on his shoulder, seeking the comfort you needed.
It was new, being able to seek out comfort. Despite how your family and friends thought you hated physical touch, you often craved it, especially when feeling down or uncomfortable. It was weird to you that the boys were always ready to hold you, often just pulling you into their arms or wrapping them around you.
Jungkook was happy when you moved even closer, resting against him in the safety of his embrace. It made him feel important, like he could protect you from everything. 
He will protect you from everything, he swore to himself, pressing his lips to the top of your head as he cleared the menus from in front of you.
It was quiet, a nice quiet, while you both waited for the food to arrive, and for Jimin and Taehyung to end their conversations. Jimin ended his phone call first, apologizing refutably when he noticed the way Jungkook clung to you. He had felt panic in the bond and he tried hard to end the phone call but it was the head of one of the companies he was an ambassador for, and he couldn’t be rude.
Taehyung was a different story. Jin was on the phone trying to convince Taehyung to bring you over to the house for dinner and movies. Taehyung didn’t know if you were quite ready for it, and he could tell you were exhausted from the last few days. 
Which was understandable since you had a full day of travel to a foreign country, that you were then trying to navigate without full comprehension of the language on top of meeting your seven soulmates for the first time, in person. He didn’t want to push you byt asking for more right away.
When he finally did get off the phone, the food had arrived and Jungkook was cooking the different meats while Jimin was showing you how to make a lettuce wrap with the bulgogi and banchan.
“Is everything okay?” Taehyung asked, seeing how you clung to Jungkook and the way your eyes were red as you looked up at him.
“The host seemed to think that he could be rude to our baby. Calling her horrible names I won’t repeat, all because she struggled to speak Korean.” Jungkook spoke, his voice hard yet calm, not wanting to scare you again with his tone. He had seen how you reacted only minutes ago when he arrived, he didn’t want to see you react like that to him ever again.
Jimin and Taehyung both tensed up, anger filling their veins as heard Jungkook’s response. They were mad at the host, but they were also mad at themselves for not being able to protect or defend you.
“Well, let’s hope Jin or Yoongi-hyung don’t find out. That would not end well.” Jimin noted, moving behind you to give Jungkook a chaste kiss to the lips in thanks.
Taehyung moved forward, catching Jungkook’s eye as he took the prongs from his mate, taking over the grill as his own thank you. He would give his mate a better thank you later, Taehyung decided. But, for now, he was content to watch the way his mate held you, the way your lips turned up in a soft smile when Jimin told you about some of their military escapades.
They had only been out of the military for four months, serving their specified time together under the Soul Bond law. They could not be separated for longer than a week, given how old their bond was. Even Yoongi, under his public service order, spent a lot his time on base, having been stationed within the same city the boys were stationed at due to the soulmate law within the military.
The boys had thought that their popularity and fanbase would shrivel up when in the army but were surprised to find out they were more popular than ever upon returning. Their fanbase had nearly tripled in size, brands were practically begging on their knees to work with the soul group. Artists from all around the world were hounding HYBE to be able to work with the returned group.
They spent their two years stationed near Busan, which made for a lot of small visits to most of the families, especially Jimin and Jungkook’s. That made for a lot of funny stories, like the time Namjoon fell into a large ditch and needed help getting out of it, which is what had you laughing now.
“It took his squadron almost an hour to figure out how to get him out of the ditch!” Jimin fell on top of you, laughing loudly as he tried to get his words out.  
You had been in the small booth for over an hour, all of the food devoured by the four of you, and the leftovers by Jungkook who seemed to be a bottomless pit. You were getting a little tired though and had a lot to sort through mentally. You had experienced a lot over the past couple of days and knew you would be going through even more within the next coming week.
You were spending the day at the company tomorrow, or at least, that was the plan. The boys had a practice that was scheduled, and a couple of videos they were supposed to shoot as well as a couple of brand meetings with Samsung and Adidas that they couldn’t get out of.
They had felt awful, especially after promising that they would make time for you, but you were actually hoping to explore the building. You knew you would be spending a lot of time there and you wanted to be able to get around without having to be escorted by Songun or the boys all the time.
You know they wanted you to be able to depend on them, for everything, but there were some things you needed to be able to do on your own. Being able to move freely was one of them. You hated the feeling of being trapped, and not knowing the lay of the building had you feeling that way.
A yawn escaped your lips before you could hold it back, causing the three to look at you with the same soft smiles you had been getting all morning and afternoon.
“Well, it looks like our little kitten has become a sleepy kitten.” Taehyung teased, using Yoongi’s nickname for you. You tried to protest to his words only for another yawn to escape.
“I am so sorry. I promise it’s not you.” You tried to tell them, but they only let out a couple of laughs.
“We figured you would start getting tired soon. You’ve had a long couple of days and our instincts were already telling us it would be time to take you back to your hotel room soon.” You were surprised, not knowing their mate instincts worked like that. Maybe it was because you were the lone female? Or maybe because you were the last mate to be bonded? You didn’t know but it was kind of nice to not have any expectations set against you.
It was kind of nice to be taken care of, not having to ask for it. Not needing to worry about giving anything in return.
“Do you want to get going? I promise Jungkook will be going with us.” Jimin suggested, seeing how you and Jungkook were still glued to each other’s side. He even wondered if you would want Jungkook to stay with you. It seemed you felt safe with his younger soulmate, and that made him immensely happy.
Jimin was happy that your bond with the younger was growing, that you were able to seek comfort from him now. He could only hope that you would begin to seek him out as well.
“Yeah, I think I should be getting back. I didn’t realize how tired I was, I guess.” You nod your head, feeling a little bad that the day was being cut short, but another reassuring squeeze from Jungkook had you feeling a little better.
Getting back to your hotel, you spent more time talking with your mates, getting to know them better. The short car ride had you feeling closer to them, on a deeper level than just knowing things because you were a fan. It had you feeling more comfortable with the idea of the bond itself.
When you got to the hotel room, though, you felt this tug, like you needed one of them to stay with you. You felt this itch under your skin the closer you got to your room, and your grip only tightened on Jungkook’s hand. It was like your soul was needing the connection of the bond, like the ache you felt drawing you to Jungkook meant the bond was developing to the next level.
Your soul felt comfortable with Jungkook on a deeper level, the next soul bond level triggered. You wanted to be closer to the man, wanted him to stay with you, and it seemed you weren’t the only one feeling the soul tug between you too.
Once you entered your room, Jungkook didn’t want to let go of your hand. He was familiar with the feelings he had, and only recognized them as his fractured soul was now starting to meld back together. It happened six times before, but this was almost even stronger now. His soul and being finally felt whole again.
“Will you, uhm…” You paused, unsure if you were being selfish, asking to keep the boy with you and away from the others. You looked away from the three men, now entirely unsure of yourself again. You didn’t understand what you were feeling, and it had your mind running circles.
“I would love to stay with you.” Jungkook grabbed your hands again, bringing them to his lips to kiss the back of your hand before turning to Jimin and Taehyung.
“We will have Songun bring you a bag.” Jimin spoke up, smiling again as he figured out what was going on.
“Don’t forget to be at the company by nine.” Taehyung winked at you, causing your cheeks to become red again, something the man sorely missed the sight of.
“We will see you later, my loves.” Jimin came up and gave you a soft kiss on the forehead before giving Jungkook a kiss. Taehyung followed, placing a kiss on the cheek before moving to Jungkook. It was a sweet gesture and had you smiling big even after they left the room.
-*-*-
It was oddly domestic, laying on the bed with Jungkook and watching the Korean drama you had been watching the night before. He had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you in and letting your head rest on his chest. Your own arm was placed on his stomach, flat against his shirt and rubbing patterns into it with your thumb.
Songun had already come by an dropped off a bag for Jungkook, a change of clothes, pajamas, and other overnight necessities for him. Instead of being in a pair of baggy jeans and an oversized jacket, he was now lounging in a pair of sweats and a black t-shirt. The sweatshirt he had been wearing, you had taken for yourself, pulling it on over your own pajamas.
You decided it was your mission to collect their sweatshirts like infinity stones, needing one from each to complete your collection of comfort clothes. You loved the feeling of them, how soft the sweatshirt was and the familiar smell it provided.
“Thank you for staying with me.” You whisper to him, moving a little closer to him and gripping part of his shirt in your hand.
“Of course. I could never say no to you or the bond.” He breathed out, gripping you tighter and bringing you even closer. You were practically laying on top of him at this point.
“The bond?” You asked, curious of what he was talking about. You had read a lot on soul bonds when you were younger, and you didn’t remember reading about anything like this.
“When something happens to trigger the next level of the bond, it can create this need or pull between the soulmates. I’ve felt this six times before and it just means that our souls are now beginning to pull back together into one.” Jungkook explains, running his fingers through your hair.
“It means that your soul felt safe enough and close enough with my own that it called out to mine. This need to be nearby like this will slowly die down over time but it won’t every really go away.” You nod at his words, but then look up at him when you realize something else.
“Does this mean you still feel this tug with the others? Am I causing you pain, keeping you from the others?” You felt awful, not realizing that, by you being selfish, you were making the others suffer.
“No, no, no. You are not causing me, or the others, any pain. My bond with the others is already solidified. I will always feel the tug to be with the others, but you are my soulmate too. This tug we both feel right now, is important for our bond.” His face was only inches from your own now, the both of you sitting up from where you were laying.
You wanted to kiss him.
You wanted him to kiss you.
You felt the pull leading you forward, eyes glazing over the closer you get. Jungkook’s own desire was telling him the same, pushing him to capture your lips with his own. His grip on your back moved to tighten around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. Your hand was no pressed to his chest, a gasp leaving your lips at the passion you felt behind his soft lips.
The kiss left you breathless, gasping for air every time your lips disconnected. It was soft and warm and everything you could have ever hoped for a first kiss. Something you had been dreaming about since you got your soul mark.
When you finally pulled away, Jungkook leaned forward, trying to follow your lips. You were sat on his lap, his hands resting on your waist. You didn’t say anything, just stared at one another, trying to breathe and grasp what just happened.  After a couple of seconds, you break out into a large grin, moving forward and hiding your head in his chest.
Jungkook laughs at your reaction, wrapping his arms around your back and holding you close. He wears the biggest grin on his lips as he hears your laughter spilling from you. Your soul was warm, body filling with unrestrained happiness. It felt as though one hole in your heart had been filled, filled by the man you were laying with, laughing as if someone told a good joke.  
This laughter was different though.
It was pure happiness.
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