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#silver fics
trappolia · 15 days
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KISS ME ONCE AGAIN ── silver x gn!reader, 1.6k
silver has always taken his time with you.
he has never been able to tell you why. lilia says that it is just the way he is, ever since he was a boy. he plays by the rules. he goes by a routine that is, as much as possible, not too affected by his strange sleeping habits.
it is why he goes through the meticulous steps of courting you, offering you flowers and gifting you with thoughtful trinkets and even writing letters for your family while your worlds remain separate. it is why it had to be you to take the first step and kiss him one night during a star-gazing date because gods damn it all, you’re sick of waiting.
( silver laughed and laughed that night as you apologised for your callous actions; because you were so cute, because he was so in love, because it all felt like a dream come true when he allowed himself to ignore tradition to cup your cheeks and pull you into another kiss. )
silver discovers very early on that even when he takes his time, it's all still overwhelming. like a dream come true, he used to tell lilia in bouts of deliriousness when he's still caught between dream and reality and his mind is too muddled with sleep to care about embarrassing himself in front of the fae who had raised him.
like a dream come true.
but what is his dream, exactly?
a cottage deep in the forest of briar valley, with ivy growing up the walls and over the red-tiled roof. soft, packed dirt with growing flowers of all kinds, spring blossoms of pink, yellow, blue, red, protected by a low wall. there are no horrors with dripping ink and dragging claws, no glowing emerald eyes or scaled wings. just grass and flowers and sky and nothing.
no. not nothing. because there's you.
"i just cleaned, so remember to take off your boots by the door!" silver hears you call out from inside the cottage. his chest quakes as he lets out a ragged breath, his bag dropping as he rids himself of the extra weight.
the floor below his dirty boots is clean slate compared to the cluttered kitchen to his left and the living area to his right. silver sees the same threadbare couch by the stone fireplace, cluttered with throw pillows and blankets and an unfinished knitting project. the couch is old. used. loved. there are some closed doors beyond the stairs, but silver doesn't have to check to know what lies behind them. his old childhood bedroom where lilia used to tuck him in. a bathroom that has been flooded one or more than a few times when he got too carried away with playtime. the small study where he used to have his lessons on reading and writing.
there's something about the sight of his childhood home that sets silver off, as if he’s caught in crosswinds, but he fumbles his way inside anyway, toeing his shoes off out of ingrained politeness. his footfalls feel heavy and light all at once against the wooden floors as he walks — almost as if by habit — to the kitchen where he had heard your voice come from.
"there you are," you beam at him, putting a kettle of water on top of the same stove that silver had watched his father cook his meals so many times. your brows furrow when you notice the strange expression on his face; the emotions whirling in his aurora irises like a hurricane and the trembling of his bottom lip.
you frown, wiping your hands on a cloth rag. "silver? what's wrong?"
silver lets out a ragged breath, his hand shaking as it comes up to cradle your own as you cup his face in your palm. what is wrong? this is all he's ever wanted, isn't it? a life with you in the woods he had grown up in, free of worries and dangers and hurt and anger. he's built a home with no fear, no yelling, no uncertainties. just like the life lilia always wanted to give him.
it's a dream come true.
"you're a dream," silver whispers when he realises, his hands coming up to cradle your face in turn. he's shaking, he knows that even with his mind whirling, but he just can't help it— he has to touch you, make sure this isn't— this isn't a nightmare—
no. no, no, no. malleus wouldn't do that. this is his dream. this is what his heart has always yearned for.
"my dream."
"well, aren't you sappy today?" you muse, lips quirking up in that soft smile that silver oh so adores to kiss. "what's the occasion?"
"i—" silver opens his mouth, but no words come out. what can he say? what can he do, knowing that this is all he's ever wanted, but this is a dream. this is a dream and you're not real but gods, does silver want you to be.
a beat passes, and your smile turns sad.
"you know, don't you?"
silver feels his heart ache. he wants to tell you no. no, please keep this veil over my eyes. pretend i don’t know this isn’t real. please. please.
you reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear with such tenderness that silver feels like crying. “you’ve always been so smart, silver.”
“i’m sorry,” he allows himself to say, because this is the least he owes you— this perfect imitation of you that his mind, malleus’s magic, has managed to conjure, because in the short time you’ve known him, you’ve managed to ingrain yourself into every fibre of his being so that even under this spell, all silver can dream about is you, you, you.
silver doesn't want to wake up. he doesn't, he really doesn't. there's something in him that pulls at his heartstrings, tugging at every vein and nerve as if begging him to stay, please stay. there must be a reason why you're always falling asleep, why this had to happen. just stay. this is a dream come true, why would you want to wake up?
“you’re still there,” silver says in a voice so small, it feels like he’s a little boy again, crying and clinging onto lilia like the fever that sticks to his skin and reminds him of his mortality.
“you’re still there, and i’m here.”
his childhood home is small, but within the cottage and with your hands cradling his face, the thick walls feels unnaturally closer, like something is breathing on the back of his neck. he’s reminded of you, somewhere in night raven college, trapped within your own dream. do you think of him, he wonders? has he become your new dream, just as you have become his?
will he ever see you again?
silver can't bear the thought of you somehow waking up from your dream — a matter of when rather than if, because silver knows that you've always had a knack for getting out of impossible situations like this — and realising that he had left you alone to stay in this eternal sleep, with this dream– this illusion of what could have been.
“i have to go,” silver whispers, and his heart breaks because this might be a dream, but it’s still you. how can he tell you he’s going to leave? he can’t do that. he can’t break your heart like that, he can’t—
"i'm sorry. i'm sorry— i'm so, so sorry.”
he expects you to stop him. what do the stories say about dreams where you’re supposed to be kept unaware, blissfully oblivious to the fact that this utopia is not your reality? silver expects this dream version of you to pull some sort of trick to lure him back into your trap—
but instead you just smile softly, reaching out to stroke his face, "how lucky i am to have someone like you love me."
silver hears something crack, resonating in his soul. is it the chains of malleus’s magic breaking its hold on him, or the last pieces of his heart shattering at last? he doesn’t know.
maybe it’s both.
but whatever it is, silver knows he doesn’t have much time. his hands cup your cheeks, pulling you close to him with the desperation of a dying man.
he feels you gasp against his mouth, lips parting and allowing his tongue to slip inside. he maps the cavern of your mouth as if immortalising it in his mind, like he’ll never see you again after this— because that is very well a possibility, no matter how he tries to ignore it.
silver kisses you like it’s his last day in this godforsaken world, because it might as well be, and great seven, he should have done this every time he kissed you. he should have kissed you first. he should have kissed you every moment he could instead of taking his time because now he can hear the sand running in the hourglass, and he’s blind to how much time he has left, and he just wants to see you in the flesh again, please, please, please—
the two of you part an eternity later, but it still feels much too soon. there’s so much love in him, and too little time, and silver feels like drowning.
"wait for me," silver pleads. he'll make this dream come true, he swears. he’ll give you all the love he has in this wretched body of his, and then some. he’ll never sleep again even, if only to make this dream come true.
"i will," you whisper breathlessly—
—and with a bittersweet smile and a final, fleeting kiss to his lips, you let him go.
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© trappolia 2024
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assriels · 10 days
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lessons in touch
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pairing: azriel x f!reader
summary: azriel’s curiosity and penchant for spying reveals exactly why you’ve been more…enthusiastic in bed lately
word count: 5.8k :0
warnings: smut (not super detailed)!! 18+ mdni pls, az being nosy
a/n: this is one of my faves so far :’) i have this persistent silly headcanon that az is the biggest busybody of them all and that’s why he’s so good at his job
masterlist
banners by @/cafekitsune <3
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Sex between you and Azriel was far from boring. It was a well known secret that Azriel had a predilection towards kink and experimentation, so your adventures with him between the sheets never left either of you dissatisfied. Far from it, actually.
Being with him was always pleasurable, wonderful, and unrivaled by any you’d had before him. During girls night, you had always attested to his prowess, said that his skills of observation extended past the battlefield and very much into the bedroom. And his wingspan…you would neither confirm nor deny whether the theory around Illyrian males and their wingspan was true, much to their chagrin, but the mischievous smirk that curled your lips was all they needed to confirm their suspicions.
Azriel was a skilled lover; he knew your ins and outs, understood almost innately how to coax pleasure from you with a simple, well placed brush of his fingers. More often than not, Azriel had you in a puddle on the floor before he could even take his pants off. Which, ordinarily, was a more than welcome skill — you loved how well he knew you, adored how he loved you so much that his brain was like a file cabinet of information about things you liked.
But you’d grown frustrated lately, more and more desiring to reduce Azriel to the same pleasure filled putty that he so often did with you. His composure was infuriatingly ironclad; you knew he felt the same primal, overwhelming desire that you did — such was the nature of the mating bond — but he was much better at masking it.
In short, you wanted to know what made him tick, what made him beg and whimper and plead with you to touch him. You’d been mated for a year now, and while his desire for you never waned, you had yet to find the one thing that made him sink to his knees and beg the way he so easily coaxed you to do for him.
It was no secret that your mate had a bold competitive streak. But your own stubbornness rivaled his own, leading to long, long card game nights and sparring matches — much to everyone else’s entertainment.
Though you knew you had no reason to feel such competitiveness when matters of the bedroom were concerned, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance that Azriel had so easily figured out how to make you squirm in a multitude of ways — with all your cards on the table — while you were still somewhat in the dark about his most favored bedroom inclinations. Azriel kept the secrets of his hand close to his chest.
So you vowed to yourself that you’d figure it out, test his composure to see how exactly to make that beautiful, calm countenance crack. It was like a game, but one you were more than willing to play and even more determined to win.
Ever the observer however, Azriel caught on to the changes in your excitement beneath the sheets, amusement and adoration coursing through his veins as he reveled in your sudden vigor, never shying away from a challenge.
You had been more experimental in your bedroom endeavors as of late, asking him to bend you this way and that, introducing things that he never thought you’d be interested in — not that he was complaining in the slightest. Though your differences were strikingly obvious, Azriel would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about where your sudden interest in various sexual niches had sprung from.
Initially, it was all fun and games; if you wanted to explore then so be it — he’d match you stroke for stroke every time. But eventually, his nosiness had wedged its way deep into each crevice of his mind until he was all-consumed, curiosity devolving into a burgeoning anxiety.
Was something wrong?
Azriel was positive that if you were bored you would tell him. Had you heard something from one of the others that spurred you to want to explore more? Had you felt as though you had to introduce novelty every time to please him?
You had to have known that was far from the truth; no matter your state, Azriel had always made it clear to you that you were the most exquisite creature he’d ever had the privilege of knowing, let alone laying with. He didn’t think there was anything wrong…at least not for him. Maybe you felt like something was missing.
“Penny for your thoughts, brother?”
Rhys’s voice snapped him out of his anxious musings. Azriel hadn’t realized that he was pacing so furiously he could have worn a hole through the floor. Both Rhysand and Cassian had been watching with amusement glinting in their eyes. After all, it was a rare sight to see their ordinarily calm and stoic shadowsinger so worked up.
The same poker face Azriel had worn to win countless games of cards against his brothers masked his features now, but the twitch in his brow and the near missable ruffling of his wings were tells that Cassian and Rhysand were well acquainted with.
The shadowsinger had never perfected his stone faced indifference when he was thinking of you.
Cassian ventured a guess, “Have you upset Y/N?”
Cassian had meant to tease, but the way Azriel stayed silent had his eyebrow arching in question. Azriel ignored the curious glance from his brother as his mind ran in circles once more.
Had he upset you? Was your sudden experimentation in bed some roundabout way of telling him that he had done something to hurt you? No, no…that didn’t make sense, he was being illogical.
Or…Had he somehow missed picking up on something that you liked?
Your sudden interest in sexual exploration was far from a problem, but he got the niggling sense that you were up to something, playing a game that he wasn’t privy to. And he wanted in.
Azriel was private by nature, never revealing more of his relationship with you than absolutely necessary to his brothers, not wanting to overshare in fear that he’d fall victim to their incessant teasing. But this…maybe it would be useful to get their opinions about your sudden change in interests? Cassian and Rhys were both mated males afterall, and maybe there was something Azriel was missing. He would never admit it to anyone but himself, but he fell victim to his crippling neuroticism more times than he’d like to. Curiosity and anxiety were two sides of the same coin.
So he indulged and told his brothers of your sudden vigor in bed, enthusiasm to try something new every single time. You’d been insatiable as of late and he didn’t know why; nothing had changed that he knew of and it was concerning him, he couldn’t stand not knowing.
“So,” Rhys started tentatively, narrowing his eyes in confusion, not quite grasping the issue that Azriel was so hesitant to endorse. “Y/N is trying new things in bed.”
And elsewhere, Azriel thought with a ghost of a smile on his lips. He’d leave that part out, though; Rhys probably wouldn’t appreciate knowing the details about the going-ons in the dining room of the townhouse. And the gardens. And the hallways.
“And you’re complaining?” Cassian asked, incredulous, similarly at a loss for his brother’s concern.
“I’m not complaining, Cass,” Azriel groaned and slumped unceremoniously into a chair (much like an irritated school child who’d been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to), immediately regretting his poorly thought out decision to confide in his brothers. “I’m just confused. I don’t know what she wants.”
“Have you considered asking her?” Rhys inquired, infuriatingly teasing smile curving his lips.
Azriel deadpanned and clicked his tongue, not believing that Rhys would assume he was so inept at communicating with his lover, “Of course I’ve asked. She just says nothing’s changed. I believe her, but it’s still bothering me and I don’t know why.”
Both Cassian and Rhys resisted the urge to laugh, mentally conversing about how Azriel’s affections for you often reduced him to an adolescent-like lovesickness, begging and willing to please. Az had been this way since they were children; fiercely competitive and subsequently pouty if he didn’t have the upper hand, always wanting to know and learn everything he could.
This side of the shadowsinger was one that did not make an appearance often, reserving itself until he was around the few he trusted wholeheartedly.
The past couple of centuries saw even less of this endearingly childish and competitive Azriel – even around his closest friends – as Night Court duties and his identity as Spymaster overshadowed most opportunities to be vulnerable in his relationships.
But when you came around, light began to spark beneath the shadowy depths of Azriel’s countenance as you slowly coaxed him to trust and love as fiercely as everyone knew he was capable of, with the reckless abandon that his childhood self so easily embodied.
“Maybe check her nightstand,” Cassian teased with a wink, only half joking, as a quiet happiness bubbled within him at the small glimpses of Azriel’s vulnerability. “Some of Nesta’s best kept secrets are hidden there.”
Before Azriel could furrow his brow and chastise his brother for snooping through his mate’s belongings, a realization hit him.
Nesta.
You had been spending an awfully large amount of time with the eldest Archeron sister in the library lately, choosing to hole up there in lieu of your other hobbies when you weren’t training or engaging in your various other Night Court duties.
But Nesta would be a dead end. There was no way he could approach her without tipping you off to his secret sleuthing. Though he and Nesta were friends, her loyalties laid with you; there was an unexplainable female camaraderie between you – a chosen sisterhood, if you will – and if he asked if she knew anything about what was going on, she’d go running to you, mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
The conversation with his brothers was about as helpful as he initially thought it would be, and he let himself succumb to their jokes about how wrapped around your finger he was. Azriel had endured it graciously, knowing better than anyone that they were right, that he was indeed wrapped so tightly around your little finger that he was unsure of where he ended and you began. That he would gratefully stay in the palm of your hand for as long as you would allow.
But that night, after you had told him not to wait up for you because you’d be having drinks with Feyre and Mor, Cassian’s voice reverberated insistently in his mind.
Check her nightstand…best kept secrets…
Azriel resisted the urge to snoop for all of ten minutes before his inherent nosiness clouded his judgment and got the better of him; afterall, his love for secrets is what made him such an effective spymaster. Before he knew it, he was rolling onto your side of the bed, inquisitive hands pulling open your bedside drawer.
Hidden among the small stack of books he had given you was a thick novel with a cover he recognized, but gave no second thought.
It was a book you said Nesta had lent you. When he asked if you liked it you said it was “only okay” and that you’d let him know if he should read it when you were finished. Despite your lukewarm review, however, it had never left your side, and he had found you on more than one occasion cozied up with it in your hands, cheeks dusted with a heat he knew all too well.
Azriel was well aware of the content of the books Nesta favored, often lending a reluctant ear to a whiny Cassian whenever she paid more attention to her books than him.
But there was no way your sudden excitement for novelty in the bedroom could be inspired by Nesta’s smutty recommendations…right? He leafed through, assessing hazel eyes quickly skimming the paragraphs, catching glimpses of the prose that had you so enraptured.
Azriel felt the back of his neck heat.
It was smut, as he assumed. But this was truly…filth. Pure, unadulterated, filthy smut.
Azriel was a lover of all books, never having been one to categorize or judge them by popular opinion. And, to be completely fair, he had read a decent amount of books filled with sex and romance.
But…he was sure that the acts detailed in this one would make even the Court of Nightmares’s debauchery look saintly. Even Azriel, who had been correctly assumed to be the kinkiest of the Inner Circle, felt tame in comparison to the words flickering across the pages of your book. How did you read this with such impassivity on your face?
Azriel snapped the book shut with such force the pages blew a cool, gentle breeze onto his heating face. He tried – and failed – to not picture you in the position the main character in your book was described in, unintentionally sending a soft hum of his burgeoning arousal down your bond. He was beginning to understand your desire to replicate the more salacious scenes detailed in your novels.
Having fun without me, Az? Came your teasing inquiry in his mind, as he meticulously replaced all of your belongings into your nightstand.
Don’t be nosy, he quipped back, extremely aware of the irony of his statement. And then after a beat he added, answering your question with a sincerity that never failed to grip your heart, Never without you, love.
You left him waiting for a response a little bit longer than you normally would as you attempted to control the thundering beat of your heart in your chest. You were convinced that no amount of time could ever diminish the effects that Azriel’s blatant display of love had on your composure. As much as he was wrapped around your little finger, you were just as tightly wrapped around his.
I take back what I said earlier, wait up for me.
Azriel smirked to himself, feeling a flare of triumph, It’s a date, then. Maybe I’ll find something interesting to read in the meantime.
If you caught on to his sly insinuation, you did not let on, just continued bantering with him for a few moments before returning your full attention to your friends, who were no doubt attempting to extract morsels of information from your obviously lascivious exchange with your lover.
But that night – even after Azriel had promptly fucked you into a blissful oblivion – had yielded no more information about your recent proclivity for finding a new kink, so Azriel did what he did best and spied.
He kept a watchful eye on the books you read, and tracked the times you asked him to try something new. He spent more time in the library than necessary under the guise that Rhys had put him up to some research.
Which was only half of a lie. He was in there to do reconnaissance, yes, just not for Rhys.
Azriel scanned the bookshelves for anything that seemed like it had been recently replaced, pages still clinging to the sweet scent of your skin. A title he recognized caught his eye and he slotted it out of place, flipping through the pages to confirm his suspicions.
This book was shorter than the others he’d seen you carry around, but certainly no less obscene. A smirk pulled at Azriel’s lips as he read a dog eared chapter that you had clearly marked for inspiration, recollections of your most recent tryst in his office flooding his awareness.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
You had sauntered into his small, private study at the House of Wind, short dress skimming the curves of your thighs as you bent to greet him with a kiss to his cheek. He’d been distracted at the time — surveying maps and cross referencing with ancient textbooks — and barely tore his attention away from his work long enough to squeeze your hand in greeting.
But you didn’t seem to mind, opting to make yourself comfortable and purveying the books neatly organized on his shelves. When you’d found a book you thought would be interesting enough — though probably not quite as interesting as the one you’d just finished, per Nesta’s recommendation — you settled into the armchair across Azriel’s desk, shoulders against one armrest as your legs draped over the other.
Azriel looked up at you then, soft smile curving his lips. He loved when you kept him company while he worked; somehow, whenever you were around, work never seemed nearly as daunting or overwhelming.
You met his gaze with your own grin, silently communicating your support of him in the way that only mates could, tugging gently on the bond before winking at him and resettling your attention back to the book in your lap.
The both of you worked in that wonderfully comfortable silence for a while before Azriel caught you fidgeting out of the corner of his eye. The sun had begun its routine descent below the horizon, cool breeze stirring the sheer curtains framing his windows. Though summer had plagued the days with heat and humidity, the nights were still cool as the last dregs of spring eked away.
He looked up, intending on asking if you needed anything — a blanket, maybe — but the words died swiftly in his throat when he eyed a flash of bare skin as you swung your legs to stand, showcasing just enough for him to clue in to the fact that you were indeed not wearing underwear. Or anything else under your dress, if the peak of your nipples beneath the silk was anything to go by.
Selfishly, for a brief moment, Azriel decided that maybe keeping the windows open wouldn’t be so bad.
He pried his eyes away from your form making its way back to his bookcase, and instead attempted to tamp down the raging lust stirring in his belly so he could focus. But the mental picture of what he knew lay beneath the barely there fabric of your dress coupled with your scent made the lines on the map he was studying blur into nonsense.
Though intelligent and compassionate at heart, Azriel often found himself a slave to his baser male instincts when it came to you. There was little – if anything – you could do to quell the raging need to touch you, kiss you, be near you at all hours of the day; his desire for you was a constant hum belying his daily routine. He had not one iota of self control when you were involved, much to his simultaneous thrill and chagrin.
Inwardly, he cursed himself as he stole another glance at you as you stretched onto your toes to reach a book on the top shelf.
Beauty incarnate, truly, he thought. Azriel’s eyes tracked each slope and valley of the lines of your body, taking his time to commit each curve to memory, the way he should have been doing with the maps sitting now uselessly on his desk.
You looked at him over your shoulder, small pout on your lips, “Az, can you help me? I can’t reach.”
Azriel’s heart leapt. It’s like you were doing it on purpose, and in hindsight you definitely were. But despite the gnawing adoration encouraging him to fall to his knees and worship at your feet, he stood with the cool grace of someone unperturbed by their mate’s subtle seduction.
Azriel obliged you, coming up behind you, one hand curling around your hip to steady himself as the other reached easily to the top shelf to grab the book your fingertips skimmed. As he leaned forward, you could feel the hard planes of his chest against your back and you wanted to abandon all your plans to slowly seduce Azriel into a puddle on the floor, but you remained steadfast in your decision. Nesta had pushed a book into your hands and said she tried this once with Cassian and that the resulting hours were pure heaven, and you wanted to test the theory, curiosity rivaling that of your mate’s.
You barely registered Azriel putting the book in your hands, too lost in the warmth of his familiar touch. But you composed yourself quickly, leaning back into him to kiss him in thanks, not so subtly pushing your ass back into his hips. A feeling of revelry settled in your chest when you felt him already half hard beneath his pants, his fingers curling tighter around your hip.
Oh so reluctantly, you pulled away, perfect picture of obliviousness as you plopped back down on the armchair you were occupying previously.
Azriel thought he would collapse in on himself when you went to sit back down. You had him so tightly ensnared it was like he was still in the midst of the initial mating frenzy. He briefly wondered if the mind-boggling need for you would ever go away, though part of him knew hoped it never would.
He took a moment to compose himself — if that was even possible when one’s mate was clearly playing a dangerous game of seduction — bracing himself with one arm steady against the bookshelf.
Despite how much Azriel so greatly wanted to shirk his responsibilities to bend you over his desk, he wouldn’t. Not yet anyway. The work day wasn’t quite over, and the plans he was making for you would surely last too long to finish his research afterwards. So he steeled himself and took a deep, steadying breath, willing his blood to fill his head again so he could think with some semblance of clarity.
Though at baseline, he always found it difficult to think rationally when you were around.
While Azriel was trying — and failing — to regain his composure, you were feigning extreme interest in the book you had selected at random: The History and Systems of Fae War Treaties.
If Azriel had been paying any attention to what you were reaching for, he’d have caught on to your ploy, but luckily for you the mere sight of you was enough to render him at least somewhat incapacitated.
You took a peek at him over the back of the chair, triumphant satisfaction crooking your lips into a mischievous smile. Maybe this would be the day he finally cracks, you think to yourself.
But as the sun dipped lower beneath the skyline of Velaris below, and as Azriel stubbornly worked away at his desk, you felt the tiredness of the day settle into your bones, pull you deeper into the plush leather of Azriel’s loveseat. Cassian had run you ragged with training this morning, and Rhys and Amren had your mind working tirelessly as the three of you attempted to draft a peace treaty in a meager four hours.
But you wouldn’t sleep, not yet, not until you had reduced Azriel to a beautiful, orgasmic mess in his chair. Not until the hazel of his eyes were blown dark with desire and pleading as you straddled his hips.
The next hour was a fight to stay awake as the words on the pages in your lap began to blur into obscurity, mind muddling with theories and questions — though the book was an off handed choice, you couldn’t deny that the information was coincidentally incredibly pertinent to the discussion you were having with Rhys and Amren earlier in the day.
The telltale sigh of a day’s work completed pulled your attention away from your book, gaze settling on your mate. His hair was mused in a way that told you he had spent the last however long skating his fingers through it, but as always it fell perfectly across his forehead in defiance of the tiredness creeping up his neck.
Azriel’s eyes met yours and apparently your coy seduction earlier still held his body in a vice, evident in the way he stood and stalked to you. There was a cool, domineering edge to his movements and you knew your plan had worked to a degree, but the determination you had to break him down had leeched out of you the same way the night had stolen the day’s heat.
You hummed in satisfaction as he leaned down to kiss you, the pressure gentle and so, so sweet. A stark contrast to the dark and tempting storm of desire Azriel flooded your senses with down the bond.
Never once breaking the contact of your kiss, he’d wedged a knee between your legs as one hand braced against the arm of the loveseat while the other danced at the hem of your dress, endearingly asking for permission.
Your mouth curved against his and you guided his hand up to your hip, gasping delightedly when his hand tracked further up your waist, bringing the hem of your dress up with it as he slotted your hips more comfortably against his leg.
His lips traced a scalding trail of open mouthed kisses against your jaw, your neck, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest that had your hips rolling against him.
“So bold for me,” he said, his hand skating across your unclothed skin while he urged your hips to grind a little harder against his thigh. You gasped, the pressure so wonderfully perfect against your cunt.
Though your initial intention was to get Azriel all hot and bothered, you couldn’t deny that the game you had set yourself up in had the same effect on you; the lingering, almost lazy path his eyes swept over your body every time you shifted across from him left heat singing between your legs, untamed longing for you dancing down the golden thread between you.
“Az…” you rasped, arching your hips up to meet his still clothed body, the top of your dress pushed languidly down to your waist as Azriel played slow music on the skin of your breasts. The loveseat was a cramped fit at best, but Azriel’s surprising flexibility and dexterity made it work despite the general largeness of his wings and frame. He’d made even the smallest corners of the House work for your sexual escapades.
The memories of all the scandalous little happenings you two have been partaking in the past few months flitted across your mind’s eye like an erotic slideshow, and you groaned. Legs tightening around his in desperate search for more friction, more contact, more of him. His name on your lips again was a wanton plea, a sound so wonderfully obscene Azriel almost came in his pants.
“Hmm?” He hummed, closing his lips around your nipple, teeth gently tugging before his tongue was quick to soothe the ache. The way your hips were grinding so shamelessly against him had his head spinning with a swirling mix of lust and love, and he clung to the last shreds of self discipline he had. It was all he could do to not tear both of your clothes off and sink himself deep into your brilliant warmth.
Azriel had always been patient, mastery over his desire was a skill he’d honed meticulously over the past few centuries — though you had a way of quickly unraveling his self control with one flutter of your eyelashes. But he wanted to make this last for you, wanted to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible. So he pressed his thigh more firmly between your legs, his own hips slotting against the side of your body.
You gasped at the feel of him, of how hard he was against your hip, and you tried to reach him, tried to get him to release some of the tension you knew coiled in his belly. He groaned deep and breathless when you pressed insistently against him, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he continued his ministrations on your body.
Azriel’s hands were everywhere, trailing paths around your breasts, up your neck, into your hair, and between your legs the way he no doubt was doing with the maps on his desk earlier.
It was infuriating how close you were already, how swiftly the tables had turned (though you half blamed the sudden onset of your fatigue the day had cursed you with), how with one well placed touch you were on the brink of collapse at Azriel’s mercy yet again.
He was urging your hips faster now, his fingers and lips making quick work of all the places he knew would have you keening. And before you could even register that he was still fully clothed, hard cock still straining against the confines of his pants, you were falling, breathless and dizzy with release.
The night had been far from over. You came twice more in that godsdamned loveseat – once with his fingers buried inside you and another time with his head between your legs – before he whisked you away to your bedroom where you finally, finally felt the delicious stretch of him inside you.
By the time the sun was making its appearance over the horizon once more, you had lost count of how many times Azriel had you begging.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
Though your spicy little rendezvous in his office – and encore in the bedroom – wasn’t quite an exact replica of what played out in the book you had apparently just read, Azriel had thought your coy seduction had its intended effect. He’d been so fucking desperate for you that he couldn’t wait until you were out of his study to have you coming for him.
But, as he skimmed the pages of the chapter you marked, he couldn’t help but think that maybe he wouldn’t mind being fully at the mercy of your whims, wouldn’t mind submitting to the pleasure that you so easily coaxed from him. He was already always so eager to please you, so willing to crawl to the ends of the earth for you if you had so much as suggested you wanted him to.
“Azriel?” Nesta’s voice dripped with wicked amusement, effectively pulling him from his erotic reverie. “I never thought I’d see you in this section of the library.”
Fuck.
He hadn’t anticipated that he’d run into Nesta, a severely idiotic oversight on his part considering the House’s library was something akin to her own personal sanctuary. Azriel turned slowly on his heels to face her, mind working in overdrive to come up with a viable excuse for him being there.
“Nesta,” was all he came up with. Pathetic.
Her smirk turned deadly when she realized he was floundering. Arms crossed over her chest, chin tilted ever so slightly upwards, she looked the very portrait of smug amusement; he would expect nothing less of his friend who moonlighted as Lady Death.
Nesta’s eyes dropped to the book he forgot he was holding, and her eyebrows shot up in understanding, “Ah, I just recommended that one to Y/N. She gave it a hefty five stars. Said it was…intriguing.”
Nesta’s sly comments were enough to confirm Azriel’s suspicions that you were taking bedroom inspiration from the arsenal of smutty books the House stocked. And, with the way Nesta was biting her tongue, he could tell that she knew exactly why he was there.
Cassian, that fucking mouthy bastard.
Before Azriel could open his mouth to tell her that it wasn’t what it looked like – even though they both knew it was exactly what it looked like – Nesta stalked past him, pulling books off the shelf with striking precision. With a stack of five books balanced on one hand, she took the one Azriel was holding and reshelved it.
“These are Y/N’s favorite,” she said, this time with a little bit more softness and understanding as she placed them gingerly in his arms. “I’m sure she’d love if you read them.”
Azriel scanned each cover, a fond smile working to tilt the corners of his lips. You did love these; he had been familiar with these covers long before you were even mated, always keeping a lovingly watchful eye on the things you enjoyed, filing the knowledge away in his mind for later.
“Thanks, Nesta,” he said sincerely, adoration for you filling his chest with warmth as he remembered the excitement lighting your eyes while you read these books, cute flush radiating off your cheeks.
Nesta only nodded, giving his shoulder an encouraging few pats as she stalked off to another aisle, no doubt scouring the shelves for a new read.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
Azriel told himself that he’d only read a few chapters — for research — but he hadn’t realized that he’d spent the better half of his day off lounging on the loveseat in his study.
Despite his previous reservations around the smutty books you’d so lovingly treasured, he found he was enjoying them — and not just for the well written, detailed sex scenes that you were pulling ideas from. He was two-thirds of the way through the second book, in the midst of the big climax, when you snuck up on him.
“It seems you’ve discovered my dirty little secret,” you said coyly, arms coming up behind him to snake around his shoulders.
Azriel jumped at your sudden appearance, inwardly cursing himself for teaching you how to sneak up on someone so effectively. He closed the book swiftly, feeling a flustered blush creep up his neck.
You pouted and rested your chin on his shoulder, “Aw, you were just getting to the best part! Don’t stop reading on my account.”
Azriel groaned but gave in, leaning back into your touch, “Don’t tease me.”
“I would never tease you, my love,” you said mockingly before kissing his cheek. “It is really the best part, though. The paint scene—“
Before you could regale the details of the main characters’ sexual escapades, Azriel took your chin in his fingers and slotted his lips over yours in a silent plea to stop your innocent tormenting. He reveled in the way you kissed him back without pause; he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way you loved him as eagerly as he did you.
“Dirty little secret, huh?” He quipped, lips brushing yours as a bemused smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. You rolled your eyes as you made your way around the back of the chair, gesturing for him to uncross his legs so you could settle yourself on his lap.
Your weight was a welcome comfort as he continued prodding you, “Is this why you’ve been so…eager lately?”
“I didn’t think you’d notice,” you admitted, winding your arms around his neck as he scoffed in mock disbelief.
“Give me some credit love, I notice everything when it comes to you.” Came his quick response.
You pursed your lips, half in childish dissatisfaction that your little game was over, “I just wanted to know how to get you to beg for me. I needed ideas.”
Your nonchalance belied the wicked sensuality of your words and he chuckled, wrapping his wings around you both before mapping a scathing trail of kisses up your neck. The pillowy feel of his lips brushing your ear made you shudder, his teeth nibbling playfully at your earlobe as he hummed deep in his chest, “We have a lifetime together, there’s no rush. But since you want it so badly, shall I show you how well I can beg for you?”
Azriel’s offer sent an exhilarating shiver down your spine, and you so desperately wanted to give in, wanted to watch him come undone beneath you as he pleaded with you to touch him. But you shook your head despite yourself, competitive stubbornness the only barrier between you and what you wanted.
“I want to earn it, make you want me so bad you can’t help yourself.”
Your words were a breathy murmur that nearly had Azriel flipping you over right there on the too small lounge chair, but he resisted, prioritizing his assurances that you were the only thing he wanted every second of every day.
“That’s the thing, beloved,” he whispered in your ear, deep voice doused in honey reverberating in your bones as your desire flared so wildly it made you lightheaded. His hand, calloused palms rough against your skin, skated beneath the hem of your dress to grab hold of your hip and move you so you were straddling him.
This was the image you played over and over in your mind. The unbridled, unrestrained look of pleading in his eyes that blew his pupils wide, that had his hips shifting against yours in a display of just how much he wanted you.
“I always want you,” he continued. “I’d beg for you like I am dying of dehydration and you are my oasis. Just ask, and I’ll do exactly as you say.”
You were mesmerized, finger tracing the sharp contours of his jawline before ending at his chin, tilting his gaze up with the same practiced dominance you’d seen him slip into countless times before. You savored the way he shuddered at your touch, pretty lips parting as his chest heaved.
The corner of your mouth quirked, your breath a ghost over his lips, “Show me, then.”
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reineydraws · 28 days
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i think a side effect of loving mishanks for many people is becoming very endeared by the "rayleigh is mihawk's parent" au's haha :') first one's part of this fic i posted where smolhawk challenges rayleigh to a duel ⚔️✨️ second one's just a random kid!mishanks doodle. i think their shenanigans (incl buggy!) would be cute.
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futuristichedge · 3 months
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Late night doodles
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ratrrriot · 1 year
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Here's some fanart of “What was stolen”! My good friend @beeextraordinary123's medieval fantasy Sonamy fic that I've been reading 🦔⚔️👑
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(Here's the snippet i based this painting on cuz I really like it!!):
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and here are some doodles and small paintings to test designs !! ( note: these designs have been updated!!)
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You can read the fic in AO3 , Just a heads up tho: Audience is teens and up and Amy and most of the characters are +20 yrs old in this fic,so while It doesn't have anything NSFW or explicit in it,some scenes are steamy.Thought i'll mention it in case that sort of thing makes anyone awkward and/or prefers to avoid it.
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homeslices · 3 months
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Euphoria (Azriel x pregnant!reader part one)
Summary: You and Azriel find out you’re pregnant.
A/N: Thought his idea was cute and I’m thinking about making this an entire series of dad!Azriel. Also I’m sorry if this isn’t good, it’s my first time writing anything for acotar, but I do really like it so I plan on writing more in the future.
Pairings: Azriel x pregnant!Reader
Warnings: suggests smut, slight angst about not being able to conceive a baby (fluff to make up)
Word Count: 1.0k
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Azriel and you had been trying to have a babe for a while. While the only people in the Inner Circle who had a child was Rhys and Feyre, you have been mated for hundreds of years and were beyond ready. 
Having children was something you had to have many lengthy discussions about first. Azriel’s trauma with his family as a child and your own trauma being an Illyrian women whose wings got clipped before being cast out of your home only too be found and taken in by Rhys’s his mother, were all things you both had to think about before even considering bringing a babe in this world. That’s not even mentioning the war you and all of your loved ones fought in and somehow survived. However, seeing Feyre and Rhy being amazing parents to their son, and just seeing Nyx in general, has confirmed what you both have wanted for a while. 
But, as much as you both wanted a child, it just did not happen. It’s been years since you started trying, and as much as you love to be with Azriel intimately, it started to feel more like a task rather than something fun. There have been a few nights that Azriel has woken up because you forgot to close the bond and was flooded with your feelings of self-loathing. All he could do was cup your tearstained face and whisper reassuring and loving words to you. You blamed yourself and as much as Azriel denied it, those thoughts just didn’t go away.
After the third night of that happening, both you and Azriel decided to just stop trying. Of course you both would continue to not take the tonic, but your goal while being intimate was no longer having a baby, it was to enjoy each other. After a time, sex was pleasurable again, your mindset improved, and while you did have moments of self doubt, Azriel was always there for you as you were for him. Similarly, your family was amazing the entire time. While Azriel and you were fairly private about the situation, you didn’t hide what was going on with them. Their support helped you heal, both of you. It’s been a few years since then, Nyx was now six and it is true that time heals all wounds. 
Azriel was the one who noticed it first. The sun was starting to rise, light beginning to stream through the window of Azriel and your shared bedroom. It was one of those rare occasions that neither of you had to go anywhere that morning, however, Azriel was so used to being up before the sun that he was already awake. Your face was peaceful as you slept, your bare figure tangled in the sheets, and the only noise heard was your soft breathing. His hazel eyes watched your calm face, all the while having his shadows watch both of your surroundings. Weirdly enough, his shadows also kept brushing over you, almost like they were scared to let you out of their grip. It reminded him of when you first mated, at least one of his shadows had to be with you at all times once both of you got out of the frenzy.
There was something different, something unusual that Azriel could sense that made him feel uneasy, but not on edge. It bothered him, however, as your eyes fluttered open and you shifted your body to face your mate, it hit him. Well, your scent hit him. Before, the room smelled of the previous night’s activities, but with your change in position, he could now make out that your scent has changed. It was subtle, but the slight sweetness in the air was all that was needed to figure out what was so strange. 
Azriel’s face was the first thing you saw as you woke up. Despite being able to mask how he’s feeling extremely well, his slightly widened eyes, along with the millions of thoughts running rampant behind them, were all telltale signs that he was in shock. 
You hum curiously before speaking.
“What is it?” you question while reaching up to cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb along his cheek. You could feel the coolness of his shadows brushing all over your body, it was comforting yet slightly unusual to wake up to. 
“You're pregnant.” 
Sitting up suddenly, as if a bucket of ice water had been spilt on you, you look at him bewildered.
“I’m sorry, what?” 
A grin filled with pure joy took over his face as he answered you once again. 
“You’re pregnant.”
All you could feel was disbelief and elation. You could now tell that your scent was different and all you could do was look at your husband, your mate, incredulously. His deep laugh fills the room, only further showing his happiness. You beam at him as he lifts you in his arms and settles you on his lap. His bare skin felt warm against yours, and the chill that continued to brush over you from the shadows felt perfect against you. The only time you’ve felt this overjoyed was when you found out you were mated to Azriel. You brush your lips against his as he cups your face, brushing away the tears you didn’t know were falling. 
You knew things were going to change from that point on. You knew how male got when their mate was pregnant, how protective they became. You saw first hand when Feyre was pregnant with Nyx, she could never move more than a few feet away before Rhys was next to her once again, and if a stranger came up to her, everyone could feel the power he unleashed to get them away. Rhys had mentioned it was similar to how males are after first being mated, but also said that that is nothing compared to how protective he felt of his mate carrying his child. 
You knew that this was only the beginning of troubles you would face. But at this point in time, wrapped in one another’s embrace, tenderly kissing tears of joy off each other's face while the morning light poured in, all you could feel was euphoria. 
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iamnmbr3 · 2 months
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Harry: So I chose someone a little bit unusual to go to Slughorn's party with me but-
Ron: Oh no. Oh no. It's happening isn't it? It's actually happening.
Harry: What?
Ron: Is the person very blond?
Harry: Yes.
Ron: With silver eyes?
Harry: Yeah actually. How did you-
Ron: And do they idolize their father and repeat all of his crazy views as fact?
Harry: Yup! You've guessed it! Or did someone already tell you I'm going with- Ron? Are you alright?
Ron: I can't believe it. It happened. It actually happened. Hermione and I saw this coming but oh Merlin.
Harry: What's wrong with taking Luna?
Ron: Luna? .... Oh. Oh. LUNA. LUNA LOVEGOOD.
Harry: Obviously.
Ron: YOU'RE TAKING LUNA LOVEGOOD! THANK GOD!
Harry: ...Yes. Who did you think I meant?
Ron: Nevermind but wow you sure have a type huh?
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suntails · 4 months
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it was a nightmare
comm for my friend dove's fic!! u can find it here, DEF worth a read!!
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little-pondhead · 4 months
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Danny moved to Gotham.
Freakshow is touring in Gotham.
Freakshow knows Danny is in Gotham.
Danny knows Freakshow is still after him.
Danny's faith in heroes has been shattered.
Danny turns to the only person powerful enough to run Freakshow out of town, hopefully for good.
Danny turns to the Joker for help.
The Joker is looking for a new punching bag sidekick after Harley Quinn left him.
Danny is just the perfect person to be shaped by the Joker's hands.
Danny becomes the new Joker Junior.
#pondhead blurbs#dpxdc#how we feeling about this fellas#i think it's an ideal angst fic#but i don't wanna write it lol#the younger danny is the worse it gets#someone said that danny shouldn't be afraid of the joker because he's a clown and freakshow is a ringmaster. not a clown#if i find that post i'll tag the creator cause i can't remember rn#but i'm imagining danny who is heavily traumatized and scared and lonely#finding out that one of his worst enemies he hoped to never see again is hunting him and is so close danny has to check his eyes every day#just to make sure they haven't turned red#his anxiety is out of control and he's not about to go find a Bat or Bird to talk to#who would believe him anyways? he's a monster#but danny needs help cause he will not survive this on his own and he knows it#freakshow haunts his every waking dream#but freakshow isn't from gotham. he doesn't have the city's curses engraved into his blood. he never died and he's not truly teasing death#so danny chooses to plead for help from the only predator bigger than freakshow (in his eyes) who IS from gotham#danny goes to the Joker. prepared to offer everything but his free will and free mind. he can't give those up. it's all he has.#danny is a feral house cat asking a tiger to take care of a mountain lion for him by offering the tiger his own liver on a silver platter#joker is...delighted? maybe? no one is quite sure. but he takes what danny offers.#here is this little boy. almost the same age as the second robin when he died. pleading for the JOKER to be his savior. this will be fun
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hazashiovo · 23 days
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Remember in "Sleeping Beauty" the live action how Maleficent had a crow? That's what we're doing now,but with Malleus.
Malleus x crow shifter!Reader
Genre:Fluff, master and loyal servant trope.
Little bird
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You always had a thing for shiny,pretty things. No matter whether it was some trash on the ground or a nice ring in a pawn shop.
Shiny objects never failed to grab your attention.
Malleus is shiny and definitely pretty, and you, being you, got attracted to him. Naturally of course.
Malleus is a shiny,pretty fae.
It was near impossible for him not to attract your interes.
Once he realized a certain bird was stalking him, the fae started leaving small amounts of food for you. It always brought a smile on his face when the mysterious bird tilted its head,its dark eyes filled with curiosity. In his eyes,it was such a cute action to do.
He must admit,the bird got his attention,and soon enough it became a habit.
Like crows usually do, you started leaving small trinkets that you personally found pretty, at his window.
It might be a flowery metallic hair clip that attracted you,or maybe some bottle cap with a pretty color.
He appreciated neither less ,it was a curious habit the fae and the animal picked on.
So malleus started reading. About crows,their habits and soon enough he found stories about them.
Those little creatures are quite interesting,it's what he would think while reading a particular sentence that made him think about the bird,once again.
Some say if a crow is fond of somebody they leave gifts as a sign of appreciation and sometimes, loyalty.
When this little black feathered animal chooses a person to grow attached to,it's quite the view to other people. And it means that you, as a person,are enough to gain one animal's trust.
Dark, beautiful creatures of the night, growing attached to complete strangers.
What Malleus didn't know was that inside the dark bird,there was a human soul.
Free to transform whenever they pleased, not really.
You can't shift whenever you want to,unless you want to be seen bare by other students,and you definitely do not want that.
When you're in your animal form you feel free, peaceful to do as you please,fly wherever you want.
Even if you're not truly a crow,the tendencies to behave like one are real besides eating worms and insects. That's not you.
Bleagh.
Before Meeting the tall guy,you used to collect the shiny things you found,but now that he's here, most of the objects you pick up are for him.
He leaves outside his bedroom window bread crumbs,cookie crumbs and whatever the indulging boy thinks is good for you or that you would enjoy.Even if you don't need it,you take them. Mostly to show him you trust him with.
They taste better when somebody gifts them to you. It's a fact.
Soon,Malleus allows himself to touch your head. A gentle rub on your black feathery small head. His green eyes whiden when you push your head in his hand, practically telling him to keep going.
He smiles,as he rubs below your dark beak. Malleus notices the way your eyes close affectionately. He could even imagine a ghostly smile on your beak.
It's one truly cute interaction.
Malleus's friends soon started to notice a particular bird on his shoulder, always watching.
Silver even had a feeling that you understood what they were saying,simply by your body language.
But most of the time crows and ravens are smart birds,some reaching the level of understanding of a 5 year old child.
It's very interesting,you are interesting, especially in Silver's eyes.
But he doesn't pay much attention to you,more busy to focus on Malleus.
You like Silver,he cares about Malleus a lot.
The first time Lillia has met you,he knew that you're not what you seem.
His age isn't a young one, therefore he's been through stuff,and learned things in his life.
Like now,he knows that you're not just a bird. You couldn't fool the older fae even if you tried.
So he silently watches,and he's not ashamed to make comments when you're alone, which isn't often since you're with Malleus most of the time,but still.
This man has you sweating,even if you don't particularly hide yourself on purpose.
Even if you're most comfortable around Malleus in your shifter form,the truth can't be hidden from him forever.
At the same time,you can't just shift in front of him back in your human form.
Meeting him with no clothes on,for the first time even, doesn't really seem like a good first impression.
Unfortunately,that is exactly how it happens. Not the naked part,but let's just say you're not clothed either.
Almost 6 months of constantly being on Malleus's shoulder taught you his schedule. So seeing him in his dorm room,eyes wide open watching your form,that's covered by his blanket.
Your original plan was to shift in his room, quickly change in some clothes that belong to him,and tell him the truth about who you truly are.
Simple as that.
It wasn't simple as that. Malleus arrived in his room earlier than he usually does, barely giving you time to cover yourself up.
Now this situation is exactly not the kind that you wanted to land in.
It's not like you could've brought your own clothes in Malleus's room. Your animal form can't carry that much weight,after all it's a small bird.
"Who are you?" Malleus's voice breaks your line of taughts,all thinking of your failed plan and the embarrassment of being in such a situation.
"This isn't what it looks like." The fae holds a curious expression,after all not every day he's met with a naked person in his chambers. Now that he thinks of it,you do white look familiar,but he just can't figure it out from where.
"Malleus,I swear I'm not a creep or anything of the sort." His silence allows you to continue explaining yourself,the blanket around you getting squeezed tighter around you, praying to whatever God was mocking you that this blanket remains on your naked body.
"You know my name?" You watch as the said boy moves closer towards you,now more curious than before.
You squint your eyes, focused on the floor,trying to find the right words to explain yourself.
How do you tell the boy you're completely loyal to,that you're actually a person with the ability to shift forms.
Exactly,you try explaining it.
"I know everything about you, not in a weird stalking way,don't get me wrong." Swallowing the lump in your throat,you meet eyes with the dark haired fae.
This situation is less than comfortable for you.
"Then do explain,what are you doing in my bedroom and why are you bare?"He leaves out the part where you mentioned knowing him,and focused on the important matter.
"Well,I wanted to tell you the truth,or rather show you the truth but..." A sigh leaves your lips at the failure of your oh so great plan, "I didn't have enough time."
He watches as you follow his steps with your eyes,the deja Vu clear as day.
Just who is this interesting person who claims to know Malleus Draconia?
"Say, child of man, what might the truth be? The one you desired to tell me so bad that it was necessary for you to be bare in my room. Enlighten me." Malleus speaks,voice steady and calm,unlike yours. Shaky and anxious.
"I will gladly talk to you...mind if I ask but, can I borrow some clothes?" The question leaves Malleus a bit shocked,only nodding in agreement.
What shocked him even more was that you knew from where to take the clothes.
Excusing yourself to change,you don't miss the unusual expression on Malleus's face. Not so often do you get to see him expressing such an emotion, especially one you caused.
Finally dressed,you dare to properly meet eyes with Malleus. Ready to explain yourself properly.
"Now,I owe you an explanation." The boy takes a few seconds to take in your new appearance,his clothes looking quite nice on you.
"That you do,child of man. Starting by why you were in my room?" He doesn't take his eyes off you,instead fixates them in your eyes. There it was again,that sense of familiarity. Like he's known you for a long time.
"I came to your room, because I wished to show you who I truly was." A deep breath in,and an exhale. It's time to break it to him,that's the whole reason why you came here , right?
Your eyes dart around the room,a singular object catching your eye. A shiny silver ring you found on campus a couple months ago.
Making quick effort,you move towards the table to pick up the ring.
Malleus realizes it,and before your hand could make contact with the piece of jewelry his palm wraps around your wrist, stopping you immediately.
"How is you touching my belongings going to answer any of my questions? Are you perhaps here to steal,human?" His green radiant eyes narrow at you,gaze burning into your own. This ring could never be worn by the fae. Unfortunately you learned that one of Malleus's weaknesses is silver.
If you had known before you would've kept the ring to yourself. Even with his condition,Malleus still kept it, because it was a gift from his loyal little bird.
"Allow me," your soft eyes break contact with his narrowed ones,just for a second. He allows you to pick up the ring,his gaze fixated on what you're trying to show him.
"I brought this to you 3 Months ago,you fed me candy bits,even if it's unhealthy for a bird,I accepted them." Malleus's narrowed eyes widen he seems to be doing it a lot nowadays,or is it just the effect you have on him? Maybe.
"Now how could you have known that,and why would you refer to yourself as a bird?" He's not quite getting the hang of the situation,in his defense,this has never happened before.
You sigh,maybe the best thing to do is just show him,but then when you'll turn back you'll be naked again. Ugh...this is a curse.
"What if I just show you instead?" This was more a question towards yourself rather than for him,even so,Malleus nods. Carefully watching you as you back away.
You take a deep breath in,and there it is. The clothes you just borrowed from the tall male in a pile on the ground.
His brows furrow, was this a trick? Did you wish to play a prank on him?
He doesn't get to drown to deep in his thoughts,the sudden movement in the pile of clothes draws his attention.
The boy slightly bends down, trying to get a glimpse of whatever might be there. And out of the clothes,a crow emerges, a black feathered beautiful crow.
Not just any Crow,but you.
Now it's clear,why you were so familiar in the boys eyes.
Even so,the realization hits him hard, especially when you take your designed place on his shoulder.
Malleus's eyes link with the bird's,your eyes."It's...you?" Voice questionable,you knew he wouldn't have an extreme reaction. The time spent with him taught you that.
From your beak, the ring lays securely gripped. The fae's hand extends, allowing you to drop it in,only for a few seconds. The metal burning his porcelain hands. The ring quickly lands on the table, remaining as nothing more than a gift,and a decoration to his dark room.
You cow,like Malleus could understand you. It feels good to show yourself to him,not having to carry what felt like a horrible lie in your chest.
Once the shock wears off, he smiles. That warm beautiful smile that warmed your heart every time you saw it.
Fortunately,most of the time it was directed to you,after you brought him something nice from one of your trips outside the school.
"You're quite the interesting one,little birdie." He takes the liberty to adjust your position, setting you on his wrist.
"You never fail to surprise me." His white,large hand gently pet your little head,right above the beak. He swears he could hear you purr,like a cat.
Maybe it was only his imagination,but the way your head once again leaned into his palm,that wasn't his mind.
You two make quite the pair.
.
.
I had this little idea and I just had to write it. Maybe I'll make a part two to it, depending on what ideas I get next.
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Hello! ☺️ Can I request for reader x Azriel? Where reader never had a partner because she firmly believed that her love is for her mate and her mate only. They are mates and the bond snapped immediately for reader when they first met but it didn't for Az. So for centuries reader kept on confessing her love for Az while watching him date countless women and kept on pushing reader's feelings aside. Reader slowly fell into an abysmal darkness where she constantly saw everyone had a partner for them and reader is all alone. Az, after all these years, finally felt that someone was wrong with reader and she's not her usual self anymore so he went to check on her and boom the bond snapped for him then and there. Angst here, there, everywhere please 🥺 TYSM 💖
I fell for you.
Azriel x f!Reader.
Masterlist.
Warnings; angst
She was dead. The female you used to be was dead, love burned her and her mate blew the ashes away. The empty cell you had become went unnoticed by anyone, and how could they notice when they all had their mates and were starting their own families. Everything started 200 years ago when you were offered a place in the inner circle as a healer, you were a cheerful young female raised in a preservative family. Ever since you could understand how the mating bond worked you dreamed about meeting your mate, falling in love and creating a family. That was the reason why you never took any male in your bed, you wanted your first time to be with your mate. Everyone kept saying that they forgot all the times they had laid with someone after laying with their mates so why should you bother to do it? And then you met the inner circle and the shadowsinger of the night court -your mate. The moment your eyes fell on him the bond snapped, but it didn’t snap for him too. You tried to approach him and you managed to become friends with him, but soon regretted it. Being his friend meant him talking to you about the females he met, talking about the feelings he had towards them and telling you about their dates. That was until one day… the day you snapped and told him about your feelings, and even though you believed he could love you too, he didn’t. He just became distant and kept pursuing other females. You could handle that, deep down you hoped everything would change and Azriel would love you one day, so you managed to handle the whole situation… until the past year, when the Archeron sisters burst into your life and changed everything. Rhysand was with Feyre, Cassian with Nesta and Azriel was courting Elain. Mor found Emerie and Amren had Varian… and you? You were completely alone. You stopped eating, stopped smiling, stopped talking and most importantly you stopped trying. You hadn’t even been to training with Cassian for months and he didn’t notice because he was training Nesta. So yeah it’s safe to say that you became an empty cell.
You were currently hanging with your friends in the river house, Rhysand had something to announce so he invited all of you there. You were sitting on the floor next to the fireplace, Mor was sitting next to you with Emerie. Rhysand was on the armchair to your other side with Feyre on his lap. Amren and Varian were sitting on the sofa -Amren’s legs on Varian’s lap. Cassian and Nesta were on the other armchair, and Azriel was sitting on the floor in front of them with Elain between his legs. You were on the verge of tears, seeing them all together brought so much pain to you.
Mor was telling a funny story about one of her missions making everyone burst into laughter -everyone except you. You just stared. Azriel seemed to notice this and sent you a questioning look, you just snorted excused yourself and left the room.
You found one of the guest rooms and walked inside, sitting on the bed and getting lost in your thoughts. Azriel walked in a few minutes later.
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
You didn’t have time to reply because when you lifted your head and he saw your tears he gasped and his hand went to his chest, clenching his shirt.
“You’re my mate” he whispered. You only nodded.
“You knew?” He asked
“Yes” you croaked.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He was hurt.
“Because I wanted you to love me for being me not for being your mate.” You replied. It was true, you knew how obsessed Azriel was about finding his mate and you didn’t want to be with him because of a bond. You wanted him to love you for being yourself not his mate. And let’s face it you were obsessed with finding your mate too, but you didn’t fall for him because of that. You fell in love with him because he was soft and caring. You fell in love with him because he brought light into your life, because despite all the shadows around him he was brighter than the sun, his smile could light up every corner of Velaris. You fell for his intoxicating scent and for that deep raspy voice that sent shivers down your spine. And let’s not get started about those hazel eyes, those eyes held all the stars of the world inside them.
“You know I love you” he replied.
“As a friend” you added and he sighed.
“Yes as a friend but that means nothing, you are my mate I can fall for you. That’s how it is meant to be”
“Well that’s not how it was meant to be for me” your tone was harsh and your face cold.
“Y/n don’t do this, we can work this out… let me try” he pleaded.
“No, I think I’m done here”
“What do you mean by that?” He teared up.
“I mean that I won’t spend the rest of my life wondering if my mate really loves me”
“No that’s unfair. You knew we were mates… and you didn’t say anything it’s unfair” his voice was breaking.
“Yeah I knew from the moment I saw you… but I didn’t fall for you because of that…” you whispered.
“You knew though before you fell for me you knew, so give me a chance… please.” He cried.
“I’m sorry Az… I can’t do this anymore.” You got up and headed for the door, Azriel stood in front of you.
“Please angel… one chance… I will do anything in my power to make it worth it.” He sobbed.
You were crying too. Could you live a life where you would never be sure of your mate’s love for you? Was the mating bond enough for a happy life? Could you create a family based on the bond?
“I’m sorry…” you whispered and pushed him to the side. He didn’t follow you, you heard him breaking down and screaming as you left the house
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
With a last glance at Velaris you picked up your bags and left… tears streaming down your face as you whispered “goodbye”.
Goodbye to your home… goodbye to your friends and goodbye to the female that died there, your old self. And as you glanced at the road in front of you… you whispered “hello” to the new female you became.
Hope you enjoy it! If you don’t like the ending and you want an alternative one please tell me!
Requests are open but delayed!
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futuristichedge · 2 months
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Odd hedgehog
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corffee · 7 months
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You guys get two espilver posts today cause you’re cool
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ky-landfill · 9 months
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twstgarden · 19 days
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❀ ❝ 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗶 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲? ❞
━ malleus draconia x gn! reader (reader can be yuu or an oc/twstsona) ━ thoughts of the possibility of falling in love with your nightly visitor continue to disturb you even during the times you were supposed to focus on your quality time together.
no spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia’s arc!
do not steal or translate without my permission.
buy me a coffee here and ko-fi here if you want to support me, commissions are open
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“modern architectures seemed to have adapted new designs for their gargoyles. why, i even came across one that resembles a human face. it is quite intriguing, really. i have grown accustomed to seeing gargoyles that usually take the form of different creatures of the night, so seeing that human-like gargoyle sparked some interest in me that i wish to show it to you,” rambled malleus before he frowned, “however, my so-called phone could no longer capture images. it breaks easily, it’s unfortunate.”
you sat as you replied with a soft hum, your chin resting on your hand as you looked up at him with a rather longing and lovestruck gaze. you were paying attention to his ramblings, truly, you were! it just so happened that you were looking at him with an infatuated gaze.
hearing only a hum from you, malleus turned his head to look at his companion. with a raised brow, he spoke, “hm? are you alright?”
his question snapped you out of your thoughts. a soft blush dusted over your cheeks as you felt embarrassed of having been caught staring, “oh, sorry. um… so, did you capture it with… maybe a regular camera?”
once more, there was a frown on his lips, “no, but i will make sure i get to capture its uniqueness and aesthetic the next time i come across that gargoyle.”
it was somewhere around midnight when you decided to accompany malleus in the backyard of the ramshackle dorm, and you spent the past 30 minutes listening to him talk about his findings during his strolls for his gargoyle research club activity.
you loved listening to him speak. his voice was deep and resonant, yet so dulcet and soothing. you would never get tired of listening to him all day. when he speaks with clear passion and excitement laced in his tone, he resembles a young kid who had just gotten some candy – so endearing and oh so innocent, but you had to remind yourself that this was no ordinary man. this was the crown prince of a nation, a man respected by many and feared by many more.
still, who gives a damn about titles when you can enjoy his presence for as long as you want? as long as the moon stays up in the sky and the sun has not risen, you can guarantee his presence in your dormitory.
were you falling in love?
what nonsense. of course not! who could afford to fall in love at a time like this? what you needed to focus on was your return to your world, not fall in love with a prince who may soon be betrothed to someone else.
oh, but that smile…
malleus smiled as he caught you staring once more, lost in your gaze. with a teasing chuckle, he spoke playfully, “am i so captivating that you can’t seem to tear your eyes away?”
what a beautiful smile.
that question alone made you look away immediately. was it too obvious? surely, he was only teasing you, but it was as if he hinted that he knew you might be falling for him. you laughed a little and replied, “i was spacing out! i wasn’t staring or anything…”
“spacing out, hm? does something trouble your mind?” asked malleus. the playful air seemed to have dissipated, replaced with an air of concern and care as soon as you told him you were spacing out.
“not at all,” you replied with a smile, “i was only imagining what that gargoyle with a human face would look like.”
are you falling in love?
again, with such questions! having the desire to spend more time with the man and looking forward to your nightly meetings does not equate to falling in love. you merely wanted his companionship. he was the only one visiting you late at night, keeping you entertained and listening to your troubles. he was more of a friend than anyone else in night raven college – ace and deuce are a category of their own.
there was never a single night he’d bail on you. not a single night had he let you be alone. it had become a tradition at this point for him to always be standing by your window once the clock struck 12. he never arrived empty-handed; there was always a thoughtful gift in tow or an engaging tale of adventures of the people he knew – mostly lilia’s adventures. other times, it would be a treasure trove of fascinating facts on random yet intriguing subjects. with him, each nightly meeting was an enchanting experience, always concluding with the bestowal of a meaningful gift, the creation of lasting memories, or the gain of fresh knowledge.
a knowledgeable and kind-hearted friend.
that’s how you’d always describe him. that’s what you’d always tell yourself. he was nothing more than a knowledgeable, kind-hearted friend. why must your admiration of his character equate to romantic feelings? even friends can find one person cool and not wish to have romantic relationships with them.
oh, but you love holding his hand…
it was another night in night raven college, another night spent with your midnight visitor. he was discussing certain gemstones that he had in his collection – his hoard, a term better suited for his kind. the discussion seemed normal at first glance until he looked at your left hand and held his right hand out for you to hold after taking off his glove.
“may i?”
curiosity washed over your senses as you tilted your head but placed your left hand on top of his anyway. his gentle caress on your knuckles sent shivers down your spine, his hands felt so smooth and oh so gentle, yet you knew of the underlying strength that was concealed within his lovely hands.  the same hand that finds ease in cracking a coconut open gently held your own – as if he was afraid of accidentally hurting you.
as his thumb tenderly brushed against your bare ring finger, he spoke, “a beautiful golden ring would best adorn your hand, perhaps one embedded with your birthstone, don’t you think?”
this was merely a casual conversation between friends – a topic of discussion relating to gemstones turned into rings. this is normal, is it not? you hummed in reply as he continued to hold your hand, “a golden ring embedded with my birthstone? that sounds lovely.” a soft laugh then left your lips, “i could not afford to buy one, however.”
hoping he would comprehend your attempt at making a poor joke, you looked at him with a smile. he let out a soft chuckle, leading you to believe he was amused by your jest until his response completely caught you off-guard.
“why buy one when i can have one custom-made for you?”
your smile dropped as your expression turned into shock.
“pardon?”
that night was memorable, and certainly had its surprising elements compared to your other nightly meetings. you thought he was joking about getting a custom-made ring for you, but he had given so many hints and statements that he was completely serious – he even took your ring size. you did not stop him. perhaps it was just another one of his many, many gifts that he had bestowed upon you.
your vague knowledge of fae tradition made you recall a hint of a connection between faes and the art of gift-giving – that exchanging of gifts was an intrinsic part of their nature. you were entirely unaware of the customs and traditions surrounding gifts in briar valley, but surely, gift-giving is a way to show how much one appreciates an important acquaintance, is it not?
after that meeting, you started to realise the growing number of attempts on him holding your hand – whether you’re walking side by side or sitting together on the bench – he would always attempt to interlock his hand with yours in a way that seems respectful. his hand would gently brush against your own while he was talking, giving a hint that he wishes to hold your hand but would rather have your consent first.
you did not hesitate. you smiled and continued listening to his words as you interlocked your fingers together, gently squeezing his hand as he had not worn his gloves like usual. there was a brief moment of his eyes lighting up and his smile growing wider once he felt your hand on his, but then reverted to his usual expression as he continued to share stories with you.
your nightly meetings had extended to daylight hours. you were no longer confined in the moon’s appearance in the sky to determine how long you’d spend your time with him. you did not mind being seen by everyone else in the academy hanging out with the hotshot dormitory leader of diasomnia – who cares about them?
as long as malleus continued to spend his time with you, you’d spend your time with him. your blooming connection had soon become known to everyone else, and those from his dormitory were more than happy to finally see their dorm leader making friends. well, lilia was the proudest, but sebek still has his suspicions.
it has been a long while now since you have established a connection with the lonely crown prince. his companionship was all you could find on all the times you yearned for someone to hang out with. things were going smoothly, and your relationship with malleus kept blossoming every day.
have you fallen in love?
that question now haunted you once more.
have you fallen in love?
you shook your head as you sighed, trying to think of something else as you sat on diasomnia’s comfortable couch. their lounge was spacious – able to fit more than 20 students at the same time, but you’d rather not stay in the lounge if it gets crowded. the leather couches of their lounge were certainly of high quality as once you took a seat, you felt yourself sinking into the soft depths of the sofa.
malleus was sipping on his tea while the other three kept conversing about their recent school activities. upon hearing your sigh, malleus glanced at you and placed his teacup down, “are you feeling tired?” you shook your head in response, “no, no… not at all…”
have you fallen in love?
perhaps you did. your eyes stayed on malleus for a while as you thought of all the reasons you were drawn to him. malleus had a regal and powerful aura, everyone knew that, but there was also a hint of innocence and loneliness behind that powerful mask of his. you were one of the few people who have witnessed the real side of malleus draconia, while everyone else only knew him as a powerful fae prince.
malleus had the most beautiful set of green eyes – striking and sharp, yet so ethereal and comforting. his eyes showed all the feelings his facial expressions could not, and when it twinkles at the sight or mention of things, he is particularly fond of, you feel a sense of peace within you – as if you felt happy seeing him happy.
for so long have you denied your thoughts and dismissed them as merely friendly observations. you thought he was beautiful, and it should be normal to find someone beautiful, no? you think vil is a beautiful man, but that does not mean you are in love with him, so what makes malleus any different?
but that’s the thing.
malleus draconia’s allure was a level of their own.
his beauty was not like vil’s elegant charm or neige’s endearing appeal. malleus embodies a beauty of ethereal quality – to you, he is a man of enchanting grace and elegance, shrouded in mystery and often veiled in reserve.
have you fallen in love?
after pondering on your inner thoughts, you can proudly answer this question with confidence.
yes, you were.
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© twstgarden 2024 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.
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chichikoi · 29 days
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hiraeth.
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part II. synopsis: she watches as cassian falls for another, grappling with her own hidden affections and their newly snapped mating bond in the process. pairing: cassian x fem!reader fandom: a court of thorns and roses (book series by sarah j maas) genre: angst warnings: none a/n: house of balloons/glass table girls, this is his song... i love him. fluff part two coming up OBVIOUSLY, im not fucking ending it like this i cant do this to my #1 loverboy babygirl kitty princess beloved. @joyseuphoria hi <3
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Cassian had always been the beacon of power and resolve, with a demeanor rugged and unyielding. But beneath the surface was vulnerability, and she knew that it was written in the stars for her to remain by his side as his closest friend and confidante, never to become one to uncover that side of him.
But it didn’t make it easier. Watching him as he fell for Nesta’s every glance, every touch, every word that escaped her mouth seemed to throw him deeper and deeper into a trance. And she was fine with that, and accepted it. Accepted that she would never be the object of his softened glances, his featherlight touches, his-
Her thoughts halted as Cassian stormed into the room, frustration radiating off him in waves. She glanced up from her book, her eyes immediately catching the tension etched onto his features. Without a word, she closed her book and shifted, making room for him on the couch.
Cassian collapsed beside her, his movements rough yet familiar. He stretched out, his feet finding their place on her lap almost instinctively. Y/N didn't flinch; instead, she settled into the comfortable silence, waiting for Cassian to speak.
"It's Nesta," he finally muttered, his voice heavy with frustration. "Training with her…it was like walking on eggshells. One wrong move, and she was tearing into me with those ice-cold eyes."
She listened attentively, her gaze soft as she absorbed his words. "It was like she was always testing me," Cassian continued, his voice growing softer with each word. "Pushing me to my limits, making me question everything I thought I knew about myself."
Her fingers instinctively started to massage his feet as he spoke. It was a small gesture, one born out of years of friendship and trust. Cassian didn't protest; instead, he leaned back against the cushions, allowing the soothing touch to ease the tension from his muscles.
As the minutes stretched on, their conversation ebbed and flowed, the weight of Cassian's burdens slowly lifting with each passing moment. Y/N listened, offering words of comfort when needed, but mostly content to provide silent support.
Cassian's breathing eventually evened out, his body relaxing against the cushions. Y/N glanced down to find him fast asleep, his features softened by the serenity of slumber. She smiled softly, her heart swelling with affection.
Suddenly, chains, bolts, and locks shifted, loosening, their weight growing just a little more tolerable. A soul peeked through. Broken, scarred, and trembling — with fear, she realized, but it stretched further and further. Yearning, searching.
It was as though a tether had snapped into place, an invisible thread binding her to Cassian in a way she had never felt before. Confusion flickered as she processed the intensity of the connection, the undeniable pull drawing her closer to him.
She was aware that this was not happening in the slightest. A mind trick. A dream, she thought. betraying once, the jolt of real-time that pushed through her. Burning her cheeks and stealing her breath. How the waking world slipped past the knobby parts of her fingers like a whisper, barely there, because dreaming was just a fancier word for getting lost. It held her there, suspended in imagination and for every second, it felt real. Like she could grasp the outlines and the textures. Like she could touch the weather, drink the clouds, and taste the sunlight.
The gods who had her in a chokehold withdrew.
Death feared her too, it seemed.
He was soaring in the air, and she was on the ground. She tried to reach him but he was far, far out of her reach. Seconds ticked by, and then minutes, and every thought that tried to sneak its way in, through this thick veil, bounced off and dissipated into thin air.
Because she then remembered… that beautiful things shouldn’t be broken. And she had a knack for breaking things.
The soft rays of dawn streamed through the windows of the House of Wind, casting a warm glow over the sitting room where she and Cassian had fallen asleep. As she stirred from her slumber, she found herself alone on the couch, the imprint of Cassian's presence still lingering in the air. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, her mind foggy with the remnants of… dreams? Visions? She felt as though the very fabric of her existence had been torn asunder, leaving her adrift in a sea of uncertainty, but when has that ever stopped her?
So she stood on the ground and longed.
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part II here >>
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