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happywolves81 · 1 year

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I read the comic in one sitting less than an hour after finishing the movie, and wow I have many Thoughts™.

- It's very obvious the two versions were meant to cater to different audiences AND tell different messages. I don't get why people are going "But the comic was better! It had more nuance!" just because Nimona was easier to root for in the movie.

- The comic was written back when ND Stevenson was still trying to process a lot of stuff, so all the characters are morally grey/straight up evil and the climactic battle is between a Ballister who regrets turning against Nimona, even if it was to save others vs. a Nimona who's too hurt to care if her lashing out was going to hurt innocent people.

- By the time Nimona got a movie adaptation, ND was a lot more secure in his sexuality, so the climactic battle was Nimona vs. the Director, the symbol of religious oppression and bigotry. It's not just about your friends turning on you because you're "too much" for them anymore, it's also about a society that would rather bring itself to the brink of ruin than coexist with you.

- (I totally get why people were upset about Ballister's surname change, though. Like come on, the media dubbing him Blackheart just to be mean was RIGHT THERE).

- Nimona's metaphor for not shifting is such a neurodivergent thing. Even in the comic, Nimona's parents insisting she's a monster who replaced their daughter is reminiscent of the changeling myth, which is what many parents thought their neurodivergent kids were—changelings who replaced their "real" children.

- Ambrosius being trained to cut off HIS BOYFRIEND'S WHOLE FUCKING ARM instead of merely disarming him is a very cop thing to do. As much as cops claim they're trained to de-escalate situations, their training still teaches them to treat everyone as a potential threat, and that level of constant vigilance can turn anyone into a trigger-happy/arm-choppy bastard. Even the Director, who can use a sword but probably hasn't actually fought someone in ages, STILL can't see Ballister reaching for the squire's phone without assuming he has a weapon.

- And on that note, the Queen getting killed simply because she was trying to reform the Institution and allow commoners to become knights? That's the best "no such thing as a good cop" metaphor I've seen. Because even if there ARE good cops and they ARE in leadership positions, the system will crush them before they make any meaningful change. It's not a good institution that turned rotten, it's an institution that only exists to spread its rot and refuses to be good.

- That's why Ballister's characterisation is so different in the movie vs. the comic. Comic Ballister had 15 years to come to terms with his trauma and the Institution's evildoing, while Movie Ballister is still freshly traumatised and hasn't found a way to define himself beyond the role he was assigned by the Institution.

- Not to mention Comic Ambrosius was not very noble to begin with and genuinely believed Ballister was better suited to villainy than heroism, while Movie Ambrosius never wanted the glory that came with his lineage in the first place and only antagonised Ballister because of indoctrination he needed to unlearn (which he did, all by himself, after witnessing the lengths the Director will go to just to kill Nimona).

- It really shows how important it is to surround yourself with loved ones who are open to change. Comic Ambrosius can love Ballister all he wants, but he'll still blast his arm off because he thinks Ballister deserved it anyway. Movie Ambrosius will stop to question what "the right thing" even means, even if he didn't love Ballister enough to defend him unconditionally.

I have so many more thoughts bubbling beneath the surface, but I'll probably address them some other day. In conclusion:

Watch Nimona. This is not a request.

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happywolves81 · 1 year

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nimona is abt living in a surveillance police state where the only path to acceptance is conformity as a tool of oppressing those like you. it’s about how a privileged white woman afraid of imagined dangers can often be the greatest threat of all. it’s about how our nature is acceptance, but even a single moment of misinformed paranoia can give rise to lasting cycles of bias and abuse. it’s about how systems of belief will always find a way to validate the harm they inflict upon others, even if it means turning one child into a myth and the other to a monster. nimona is also. a film about a dancing pink shark in sunglasses

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happywolves81 · 1 year

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happywolves81 · 1 year

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— a short and casual genshin impact otome game.

⟣ 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟𝕝𝕠𝕒𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 ⟢

┊ (Windows 🪟, Linux 🐧, or Mac 🍎 only!)

◇ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬? ◇

Just a simple something I had in mind for a Genshin otome game... I have 0 attention span, 0 time, and 0 knowledge to write and build a full-fledged 3D game with intricate stories, plot, and mechanics. This is just a simple visual novel with a streamlined plot and partial voices. You should be able to complete everything in like... 30 minutes long in total. Might be less, even.

◇ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ◇

The game will contain the following: established relationship, FLUFF, comfort, lots of pet names, suggestive themes, lots of kissy sounds on some routes, implications of violence (not towards player), a sprinkle of protective behavior

◇ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ◇

Zhongli, Xiao, Childe, Diluc, Kaeya, Itto, Kazuha (Zhongli is selected by default because who doesn’t love geo daddy???)

◇ 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫? ◇

This is a very self-indulgent project, hence the dialogues were written with fem!player in mind. It will contain suggestive themes, so please be aware of that before downloading / playing!

◇ 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲? ◇

Yes, it's totally free - in fact, I do not accept payment.

◇ 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲? ◇

Click the link to download the appropriate file based on your OS. Only Windows, Linux, and Mac are supported. No, I won't release it on other platforms.

Open the game, and you’ll find that it’s pretty straightforward. Customize your profile, select your love interest, then start the game.

There are no wrong answers and the love interest can be changed anytime (just go back to main menu and select the character’s picture on the right side).

◇ 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬? ◇

You can personally send links to this post / the game’s itch.io page to your friends via DMs, but outside of that (reposting), NO. For example, posting about this on Reddit is prohibited.

◇ 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞? ◇

This is a super casual project.

Scripts are not proofread. Probably lots of grammar mistakes.

Novel format without narration (full dialogs).

There are no actual sprites, just official art and something akin to a speech bubble to cater to the characters’ changes in ‘expression’.

There are voices, but only partial - mostly just grunts, chuckles, kisses, and stuff. I’m using JP voices EXCEPT for Itto because Max Mittelman is a gem. No, I will not add other languages' voice versions.

Sound cues and voices are quite important for this game so I recommend using headphones.

Depending on when you open the game (morning, afternoon, nighttime, midnight), your currently selected love interest might greet you differently.

To reiterate, there are no wrong answers.

Selecting all talk/act options for a character will unlock a small event where they'll give you unique gifts.

I lowkey have so many ideas on how to expand on this in terms of gameplay and options but let’s be real here it probably won’t happen lol why can’t my brain be this creative when it comes to work

◇ 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐮𝐬??? ◇

No... That said, anyone can literally say that. Please be responsible for your own actions.

I have also released other games on the same itch.io profile, so this isn't my first rodeo. Feel free to check the reviews on those before making your decision if you're wary about downloading!

◇ 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ◇

hyv please don't sue me i gain 0 dollars for this and i just wanna simp in peace

⟐ 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜 🄸 𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑.𝚒𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎 🄸 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 ⟐

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happywolves81 · 2 years

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Overwritten – Part 5

Azriel x Reader

Summary: After months as his prisoner, Hybern has hijacked your mind, turning you into an enemy of your home, your family, and your mate, Azriel.

Warnings: Mentions of sex (18+)

Words: 1,925

——–

Part 5 ∇

The winds were unusually gentle that night, the air still and quiet as Rhys winnowed to the roof. Atop of the house, there was no sign of the chaos that had unravelled earlier, the bedlam of your latest episode concealed within the walls.

Rhys expected to find Azriel pacing, his shadows sharp with panic and fret like the all other nights. He waited for Az to approach him immediately, hazel eyes darting between his own as he begged for any good news of his mate.

But tonight the Shadowsinger stayed sitting, his long legs draped off the side of the house, shadows low as they coiled in on themselves. Rhys noted the droop of his wings, the moonlight casting a long brooding shadow behind him, almost as melancholic as him. His brother looked truly alone.

Making his way over, Rhys sat silently next to Azriel, moving his own legs over the edge of the roof. Now that he was closer, he could see the tear tracks that stained Azriel’s face, and a surge of sympathy coursed through the High Lord.

“Az–” he started, his voice laced with remorse for their brawl earlier.

“She’s stopped screaming.” Azriel’s voice was distant, and while his words clung to that last kernel of hope, his tone was flat, more defeated than it had ever sounded. His eyes didn’t leave the night sky.

Rhys cleared his throat. “Yes. Feyre willed her asleep.”

Azriel nodded slowly, his gaze unmoving.

“She made progress tonight.”

Azriel cast a sideways look to Rhys, his brows pulled in question.

“Feyre and Mor. She said their names, remembered who they were.”

“Did she snap?”

“Not until she heard the other triggers.”

Azriel’s closed his eyes then, lips pressed as he prepared for what he knew Rhys would confirm. “It was my name again, wasn’t it?”

Rhys’s violet eyes darted over Azriel’s face, wincing at the pain he knew he was about to cause. After a deep breath, he answered. “Yes.”

Azriel nodded tightly, opening his eyes and returning his gaze to the array of stars above. Rhys studied him, unsure of how to comfort his brother.

It was then that Azriel truly and utterly broke. A sob escaped the male, his head falling to his hands. His body shook as silent cries escaped him, tears hidden in his palms as shadows swirled up his frame, eager to comfort their master.

Rhys was on his brother in an instant, pulling him in a tight hold. He could feel each breath the Shadowsinger took, and each cry that left in its place. “It’s alright Az, it’ll be alright,” he soothed.

Azriel couldn’t respond if he wanted to. He couldn’t stop his despondency from bubbling over, too overcome to pry himself from his brother, to hold himself up. All he could do was cry.

A flap of wings and a gentle thud sounded from behind them, and another set of strong arms cradled Azriel, red siphons glowing against his blue ones.

Rhys and Cassian exchanged a pained look, neither of them needing to note how rare it was to see Azriel in such a state. In fact, it was the first time for either of them.

“She made progress Az,” Cassian said gently, leaning closer to his brother’s ear.

Azriel nodded through the cries that racked through him, acknowledging the glimmer of hope that remained. It was the only thing that kept him grounded, here with his brothers. Without it, he knew he would lose himself to his rage. And his brothers – they had fought just as hard to find his mate as he had. They hadn’t stop trying now that she was home. He had never been more grateful for his family.

“M’sorry I fought you,” Azriel said, his voice shaky as his tried to get a hold of his breathing.

“Don’t be,” Rhys responded, giving him a comforting shake. “I hate to have forced you to leave, I took no pleasure in it.”

“No, no. I understand. It’s my instinct, you know? It just… it takes over and I can’t find a way to stop.”

Cassian and Rhys nodded, knowing exactly how that felt.

“She’s asleep now,” Rhys added with suggestion.

Azriel snapped his head to his High Lord. “You mean–?”

“Just don’t wake her.”

Azriel nodded, standing immediately at the chance to finally get close to his mate. After a few fast steps, he halted to a stop, looking back at his brothers over his shoulder. “I… I”m grateful for both of you. Thank you.”

“We know Az,” Cassian said with a small smile. “We love you too.”

————

Azriel’s hand shook against the door handle of the clinic, his own anticipation like a dog pulling on it’s lead. Pushing the door open with caution, he felt it immediately – what remained of the mating bond, while frayed and thin, began to warm from within. It sang to him, pulling him closer to the medical bed at the centre of the room.

His heart broke at the sight of you. It was the first time he had seen you since the camp, and while your skin looked brighter and your clothes were now clean, the signs of your ongoing recovery was still incredibly evident. How small and frail you looked – bruises spotted across your arms from the leather belts, your hands laced with scratch marks, and deep purple bags set under your eyes from sheer exhaustion.

It took every ounce of strength the Shadowsinger had to not caress the side of your face, to not reach out stroke your hair in the motion he knew you loved. Instead, he forced himself to sit, gripping the sides of the stool to suppress his instinct to touch you.

“Oh, Y/N,” he whispered, casting his eyes up and down your body, his brows clenched in agony. “I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am.”

You slept, chest moving with slow breaths – unhearing, unmoving.

“They say you’re making progress my love. I’m so proud that you are trying.” Indeed, Azriel’s heart swelled at the thought. “If only I could take your pain away, or help you in some way.”

The bond warmed then, reacting on your unconscious behalf. It sparked an idea in him.

Closing his eyes, Azriel cast his most cherished memory down that golden tether, reliving the moment you accepted the mating bond.

“You’ve known for how long?” you scowled at the male, arms crossed at your chest as you tapped your foot impatiently.

“A few weeks,” Azriel replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head as he tried not to blush. He’d never admit it, but he was shit scared of you right now. Harsh eyes sizing him up, so demanding, so powerful. He would journey the lengths of the world just to have you set those eyes on him, even for just even a moment.

“Weeks? Azriel! You didn’t think so much as to tell me?”

“I was waiting for you to feel it yourself.”

You sighed then, pinching your nose as you shook your head. You turned from him, hiding the smile that tugged at your lips. You had a mate. Azriel was your mate.

Unable to withstand his own doubts of you requiting the bond, Azriel began to babble. “It happened on Solstice, right when we exchanged our gifts. You were delighting in the ancient scrolls I got you, and when you hugged me, it snapped into place.”

“Is that why you looked so alarmed?”

“Yes. Your scent was overwhelming, it was hard to stay focused. I felt the bond then, sending trills of your own happiness coursing through my own veins. I realised then I would do anything to make you smile, to make you as happy and as joyous as you were on that day.”

Tears begin to well at your own eyes, and you turned to your mate, finding his hazel eyes shining in the same way.

“I couldn’t help but thank the Cauldron for having created such a purposeful fate. Because not only was I mated to a female as kind and strong and intelligent as you, but I was mated to someone I had loved for many years prior.”

Tears flowed freely then. “Oh, Az.” You rushed to him, his large arms encompassing you as you shared you first kiss. It was passionate, yet gentle, fierce, yet loving – the true balance of the bond you began to feel forming in your own being.

“I love you too,” you smiled against his lips, a small laugh escaping you, for all that was good in the world.

Azriel’s honey eyes glowed with warmth and desire, his nose nudging yours before closing his lips over yours again. He pulled away, burying himself in your neck as he breathed in his scent. “Your are my purpose to live.”

You baked Azriel a hazelnut cake that evening, even though he insisted a slice of stale bread would have more than sufficed, his own desires to be mated making him impatient. But you were adamant on the sentiment – the cake being a personal favourite of his, and nod to your everlasting friendship as it evolved into something new. He was your best friend, and now the single most important person in your life. You wanted to cook him something as special as he.

Only a few bites of the cake were eaten before Azriel had taken you on the kitchen counter, amongst the dustings of flour and baking supplies. The sex had been gentle at first, and unlike anything you had ever felt before. Every inch of you was stimulated, physically and mentally, and the connection of the bond allowed you to share pleasure and intimacy in ways you didn’t know possible. It wasn’t long until your love-making become more heated – frantic and needy, completely driven by the surge of hormones and magic that bound you together.

You stayed in the cabin Azriel had brought you to, enjoying the privacy to explore your new bond. You went on walks in the forest, cuddling at the fireplace and talking through the night, discussing your upmost fears and greatest desires. Any spare moments were filled with sensual, heated sex, limbs tangled together as you sweat and writhed together, the both of you insatiable for the other.

It took a full fortnight before you could convince Azriel to return to your lives and the rest of your family, earlier suggestions being met with low growls from the Shadowsinger as a protective instinct took over, unwilling to share you with the rest of the world. You had teased him, calling him a possessive male with a roll of your eyes and a smirk on your lips. You were right, but he would not apologise for it. You were his, to love and protect and serve, from now until the end of his existence.

And from the quiet of the clinic, Azriel sent these memories down the bond.

Ever so slightly, he could feel the rope strengthen, as if old frayed tethers found new ways to weave together. He froze when you stirred, his eyes wide as he synched his breath, worried to have woken you. But you kept on sleeping, a softer expression now resting on your face, you cheeks dusted with a hint of colour.

Azriel gave a silent prayer of thanks to the Cauldron. He had finally uncovered a way to help you. Sending another course of love through to you, Azriel took a breath of contentment – his first in many months.

——–

AN: Thank you to everyone who has been following this story along, I hope you liked part 5!! As always, I’d love to hear your feedback, and if you’d like to join the Overwritten tag list or my general ACOTAR one, just drop a comment below :) MUCH LOVE! ❤️❤️❤️

Tags: @hyacinthoideshispanica @kennedy-brooke @cosmic-whispers @jazmin2211 @psychobookaholic @fieldofdaisiies @marina468 @itscaitymoore @timecharm @icey–stars @lucyysthings @valeridarkness @alw-aysjanuary @brekkershadowsinger @ladygloucester @ciannemar83 @wiitchkiller @xtreme-shipper @thorslonglocks @im-bili @kexrtiz @shadowcrowsworld @lillithathecat @marina468 @aroseinvelaris @cynicalpotato95 @goldentournesol @maddithefangirl @holywolfsstuff @banasheefan56 @banasheefan56 @im-bili @v1olentdelights @cardanenthusiast @mandarin-lmao @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @ttreader @shadowsingersmate24 @auggiesolovey @percyjacksonspeen @starxqt @reiincarnatiion @thefandomplace

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happywolves81 · 2 years

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Overwritten – Part 4

Azriel x Reader

Summary: After months as his prisoner, Hybern has hijacked your mind, turning you into an enemy of your home, your family, and your mate, Azriel.

Warnings: Violence, drugs

Words: 1,866

——–

Part 4 ∇

Brightness shone through your eyelids, so much so that you had to squeeze them shut. Wherever you were, there was far too much light to be your cell.

You felt them then, the belts around your body, keeping you pressed down to the bed. They felt different to the usual chain kept around your ankle – softer, safer, a measurement of care.

Opening your eyes, you tried to blink away the blur. You were right, this room was different. It was neat and clean, clinical in a way. It smelt different here too, almost sterile.

Your body felt foreign to you, heavy yet light at the same time. Your head lolled to the side, despite your efforts to keep it up. You tried to move, to bring slow hands to your eyes and rub the fogginess away, but you were no match to the belts that restrained you.

“Hello Y/N.” A voice. A female’s voice, soft and warm and–

“I’m glad to see you awake.”

Blinking harder, your eyes tried to focus on the face now in front of you. You could smell her scent – sweet and inviting, her touch gentle on your arm. Yet her face remained a blur. Why were you so Gods damned slow?

“How are you feeling?” Another voice, another female.

Blurs became shapes as you were able to identify one with blonde hair, the other more brown. Through your haze, they seemed to float in front of you, their voices like a melody. Could they be angels?

You tried to answer, your voice catching in your throat as if your muscles were to slow to follow your brain’s instruction. It didn’t bother you though, you were relaxed, content, and for the first time that you could remember, you felt safe.

“That’s alright Y/N, don’t strain yourself.” The hand on your forearm caressed you then.

As your vision finally cleared, you realised this was not the first time you had woken to this room. Nor was it the first time you had met these females.

“Feyre?” Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. You must have been asleep for a very long time. How was it you didn’t remember being brought here?

“That’s right,” she smiled at you, her brow pulling in hope. “And do you know who this is?”

The blond shifted, placing her hand on your other arm, her smile just as warm and eager.

“Mor?” you coughed, your voice a little clearer now. The females exchanged a look of relief.

“I have to say Y/N, it’s wonderful to hear you say our names without losing you again,” Mor sighed.

“Losing me?” Despite your giddiness, there was a faint thud of dread.

Feyre took a deep breath before focusing her eyes on yours, her expression much more serious. “We’re going to tell you what we tell you every time you wake. Try your best to stay focused on our voices.”

Every time you wake? How many times had they done this?

“You were captured by Hybern’s army over six months ago. They tortured you, and used poison to hijack your mind.”

Hybern. Just the mention of his name fabricated his presence as he stalked the corners of your mind – prowling, waiting for the right opportunity. Pain began to throb from behind your eyes, and you fidgeted against your restraints.

“Just breath Y/N, we need you to stay calm.” Mor’s instruction was clear, but you couldn’t help the panic that was quickly building within you. Danger lurked close by, you could feel it coming.

“Hybern brainwashed you to turn you into an enemy of the Night Court.” A flash of white, and Hybern danced closer, as if the path to your mind was revealing the more they spoke.

“Stop!” you gasped, afraid of how close he would get. You couldn’t help your instinct to struggle against the leather belts, trying to get free.

“The opioids are wearing off,” Mor muttered to Feyre. You glanced between them in panic. Opioids? Were they drugging you?

Firm hands clasped your shoulders, her blue-grey eyes finding yours. “It’s alright Y/N, you’re safe. We’ve been working on reversing the hijacking for a number of weeks now. You’ve made a lot of progress already.”

Your breath was shaky now, adrenaline coursing through as you began to tremble. “Progress?” What the fuck was going on?

They’re lying. That cold voice returned, watching from the darkened crevices of your mind, luring you to join him. They’re lying, and they’re going to kill you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing the voice out of your mind. “Leave me alone!” The words had escaped you before you could stop them.

“That’s it Y/N, fight back,” Mor coached. You gritted your teeth, sweat now beading at your brow. Your heart was a pounding drum in your ears, and the pain behind your eyes continued to build.

“He’s here!” you shrieked, warning the others.

“Only in your mind, my friend,” Feyre answered, her voice smooth and steady, a guiding light. “Hang in there, I’m going to ease your pain.”

You yelped as Feyre entered past your crumpled mental shields, her magic quick and light, your muscles relaxing as the pain eased to a more bearable level. Hybern had disappeared all together.

“We haven’t got much time,” she said to Mor, flicking her eyes down to you as you tried to stay focused. Your vision began to reel.

Mor swallowed before turning her gaze to you, her hands pushing against your left shoulder as Feyre moved to do the same to your right. Whatever was about to happen, it would not be good.

“We need you to fight Y/N, fight for your home, for Velaris and the Night Court.”

Those words – Night Court. White flashed before your eyes, and you shouted as pain slashed through your mind.

“Fight for your family. For Rhys, Cassian, Nesta, Elain Mor, Feyre and Nyx.”

Each of their names was a silver knife that penetrated you, a deep wound every time. You screamed as your mind reeled, white flashing before your eyes over and over again.

Kill them! Hybern’s voice was so close in your ear you could feel his phantom breath. You jumped at the sudden proximity.

“Stop!” you howled – begging to all of them. You had enough. So many voices, so much magic and pain and drugs – all of them fighting for control and your mind was merely the battlefield. It was torture.

“You can do it Y/N, keep fighting!”

You were whimpering now, thrashing against the leather bounds as you felt claws clasping your brain, your very being a marvelled toy in the hands of Hybern as he waited to rip you to shreds.

They’re going to kill you if you don’t do it first. His voice was a sing-song.

“Fight for your mate Y/N! Fight for Azriel!”

It was if someone had flipped a switch. That piercing white light filled your vision before Hybern morphed into the familiar winged demon before you. His eyes glowed, talons at the ready as he launched for you.

A scream ripped from you, your own teeth bared and eyes crazed. Anyone willing to summon this creature was not your family. They were your enemy.

“I’ll kill you!” you snarled, thrashing against the bounds.

“We’re not going to harm you Y/N.” Unable to know who had said it, you hissed at them both, continuing to thrash, digging your fingernails into your palms until they drew blood.

“Keep fighting Y/N. Your family loves you, and so does your mate!”

You ragged breaths paused for a split second. Azriel spoke then, his voice unchanged from Hybern’s, eyes glowing red and forked tongue lashing. You would let them trick you, Y/N? Prepare to die at the hands of your own weakness. Talons slashed at your mind.

Howling at the pain, you shook your head violently. “No, no no no!” Unaware of who you were threatening, another snarl ripped from you as you spat “I’ll kill all of you!”

You were still thrashing and yelling when Mor turned to Feyre. “It’s time Fey, let her rest.”

Feyre entered your mind for the second time that night. “Get out!!” you roared, feeling the intrusion.

“Sleep now,” she responded gently, pulling you from the warfare of your own mind and replacing it with calm, quiet rest.

————

It wasn’t until your breathing found a steady rhythm that Mor and Feyre left the room. Rhys and Cassian were at the door, having heard the screaming. Their faces were grave, none of them greeting the other.

“Any progress?” Cassian was the first to speak.

“Small, but progress all the same,” Mor responded, her voice flat. It was hard not to lose hope when every session ended this way. The lines between helping you or hurting you further were becoming so blurred.

Are you alright darling? Rhys asked his mate through their bond. You look depleted.

I’m fine, Rhys. Just a little tired. It was a long session.

“She remembered our names,” Feyre added, speaking aloud now.

“Your names?” Rhys questioned, his arms folding across his chest.

“Feyre and Mor. And she said them without switching back.”

“That is progress,” Cassian whispered, as if afraid to jinx it.

“Anything else to note?” the High Lord asked.

Feyre and Mor both shook their heads. “Everything else was consistent, her triggers still a long list of our names, the Night Court…”

“And Azriel?”

“The worst one of them all,” Feyre said grimly. There was a beat of silence between the group. None of them wanted to be the one to tell the Shadowsinger.

“Where is he?” Mor asked.

“On the roof. I had to pull rank when she woke, he was going to enter the room when he heard her screaming.”

“He put up one hell of a fight,” Cassian added, stretching his arms. Bruises and scratch marks formed across them, a tell sign of how intense the fight had been.

Feyre shook her head, her expression sorry. She was empathetic to Azriel, she couldn’t imagine the instinct he was fighting by keeping away. But if you were to see him in that state – it would trigger you far worse than mentioning his name ever could. It would unravel weeks of long, torturous sessions, and was far too risky.

“You did right to stop him,” she said, offering her mate and Cassian a broken smile. “We’ll continue with our approach. Opioids to counteract the episodes from the poison, magic to ease her pain, and weaning her off occasionally to measure her progress.”

“Who’s going to give him the update this time?” Cassian asked. This was the most dreaded part amongst the group.

Rhys sighed then, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’ll go. I should check in on him regardless, I imagine he’s quite upset with me.”

Mor and Cassian nodded, while Feyre reached her mate, placing a reassuring kiss on his cheek.

“Nyx?” she asked softly.

“With Elain,” he replied, kissing her forehead.

The group dispersed then, Rhys making his way to the roof to speak with his Spymaster.

——–

AN: Sorry this took me a while to get out! Hope you enjoyed 💕

Would love any feedback, and comment to join the tag list for either the series or all ACOTAR 💕

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happywolves81 · 2 years

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Overwritten – Part 3

Azriel x Reader

Summary: After months as his prisoner, Hybern has hijacked your mind, turning you into an enemy of your home, your family, and your mate, Azriel.

Warnings: Violence

Words: 1,384

——–

Part 3 ∇

Ripped from the white abyss, you gasped awake in an unfamiliar place. Had Azriel finally claimed you? Were you dead?

Clutching at your clothes – you felt the rough fabric of the tunic you had always worn. Surely you wouldn’t still wear a thing like this in the afterlife? Heart pounding from the poison-fuelled hallucination, you ran a shaky hand through your hair, doing your best to calm your breathing.

“Y/N?” someone said from beside you. You froze at the sound, your stomach sinking. You knew that voice.

With wide eyes you forced yourself to look, your blood turning cold at the sight of him. There, in the flesh, was Azriel.

His demonic wings reached high above his head, blue siphons glaring just as they did in your nightmares. He was broad, strong, with weapons strapped to his frame – a threat in every way. There was no sign of a forked tongue, hellish red eyes or the sinister smile, but the shadows were here – speaking to him, likely advising on the thousands of different ways to kill you without him having to lift a finger.

You saw the male’s mouth move, but panic was a roar in your ears, making it impossible to hear. A slow hand reached across the bed you lay in, and you watched it with a deadly glare. He was surely going to kill you. Still, you were unable to move, frozen in utter and pathetic fear.

Do it quick, you found yourself begging.

You heard him then. “Y/N? It’s me, Azriel.”

Pain sliced through your mind as a white light flashed before your eyes. That cold, unfeeling voice that had coached you for so long ringing through your ears.

Azriel is an unmatched evil. He will kill you. The only hope you stand is to kill him first.

And as venom took over, you found yourself reverting to the animalistic instinct that protected you for so long. He would not get the chance to kill you – today was his day to die.

Spearing Azriel to the ground, you felt poison course through your veins, fuelling you with venomous strength as you pinned him down. Pushing your thumbs into the crevice of his throat, you gritted your teeth, cutting off his air supply.

Azriel’s eyes were wide with shock as he tried to pry your hands off.

“Y/N!” he gasped, his voice straining through your grip. “Stop.”

He was strong – but you had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. Your freedom, control of your own mind, your life. He would not take that away.

You pushed your thumbs further, trying to close the gap in his throat and forcing his head into the ground. Blood was building in the Shadowsinger’s face, his tan skin quickly changing to a deep red. Shadows began to spasm around him.

“I d-don’t want to hurt you,” he gasped, his hands slackening against your wrists. Good, you thought – not long now.

The male threw you a final pleading look, one that you were sure was meant to disarm you. You would not let go until he had taken his last breath.

Scarred hands on your wrists tightened then, forcing your fingers to unbind from his neck. Your eyes widened, and it was then that you realised he had not been using all his strength until now. Azriel pulled your arms of him, spreading them wide while you still straddled his body to the floor. Now in an incredibly vulnerable position, you new he would try and pin you under him if he got the chance.

Swinging your legs off, you pulled your wrists flush against yourself, freeing from his grasp. You practically kicked him to scramble to your own two feet, Azriel quickly standing too, his palms open as you now faced each other, neither of you daring to move.

“Y/N,” he panted as he regained his breath, the blood now moving from his face. Fuck – you had missed your chance.

Azriel was capable of dark, demonic things, an evil magic brewed within him – it was the only truth you knew. So you also knew, you had a better chance of running than fighting. Scanning the tent for an exit, you saw the only path in or out was blocked by the tall male, his wings flared like a net that would surely trap you if you were stupid enough to try.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice soft. Your ground your jaw at the blatant lie, and launched for him again.

This time, he knew it was coming, and caught your arms before you could wrap them around his neck. “Y/N, please, stop fighting!”

You couldn’t help the feral snarl that escaped you, your teeth bared as you kicked his stomach, sending him stumbling back. You aimed for his shoulders, pushing him into the wooden unit and knocking you both to the ground, medical supplies sprawling, glass bottles breaking around you.

You were on him again, pinning him so easily – almost as if he let you. Azriel kept his palms raised as your hands found his neck again.

“Fight me if you have to, Y/N. I will never hurt you back.”

Your vicious glare softened as you took in his words, your lips pressing to a thin line. Azriel was stronger, he had proven that. Yet here he was, lying prone beneath you, completely at your mercy. Was he residing to his fate? Would he let you kill him?

You shook your head – mind games was all this was. “Liar,” you snarled, tightening your chokehold around his neck.

And he let you. He let you press your thumbs into the crevice of his throat, let you force his head to the ground again and again, blind rage and the desperate need to kill consuming you.

I love you.

You blinked, your grip slackening ever so slightly. That voice – it was far away, but somehow from within.

I love you, Y/N.

Azriel hadn’t spoken, but you had heard his voice clear as day – within your heart or stomach you didn’t know. And it terrified you.

You had to finish the job, to end him now before that voice could infiltrate your mind further. Freedom beckoned at you, light and promising, and so so close. With bloodthirsty rage, you pressed the final breath out of the Shadowsinger.

That was, until you felt a blow so forceful it could be heard. Before you could turn and snarl, shadows and night had consumed your vision, and purple eyes were the last thing you saw before everything went black.

————

“That did not go well.” Rhys straightened, leaving your unconscious body on the floor as he want to help his brother stand. Azriel coughed, regaining his breath yet again as bruises were quickly forming around his neck. Rhys held out a hand, propping the Shadowsinger up as his shadows hung limp, as if they too needed to regain their strength.

“She strangled the hell out of you,” he commented.

Azriel didn’t answer, his stance broken as he looked at you slumped on the ground. You looked like yourself, his beautiful, peaceful, caring mate. Whoever attacked him just now, that was not her.

“You were going to let her kill you brother?” Rhys asked, his tone confused with a hint of dismay. Rhys knew the lengths he would go to protect Feyre, but allowing one mate to kill the other was something he couldn’t comprehend.

Azriel limped over, bending down and scooping your body to his chest. His eyes darting across your slack face – such a juxtaposition from the feral, snarling female that was going to kill him just moments ago.

“She needed to know I would never hurt her,” he said softly, his voice hoarse.

Rhys nodded gravely, stepping out of the way as the Shadowsinger lay you back on the bed, pulling the covers over you and brushing a tangled strand of hair from your face.

“It seems we have a lot of work to do.” Rhys noted, his tone grim.

Azriel finally looked at his brother. “What if I never get her back?” He was broken, the hope he held earlier lost in the violent sprawl with his mate. Even his shadows kept close, not daring near you.

Rhys clasped his hands on Azriel’s shoulders, levelling a look at him. “We will brother. Feyre has a plan.”

——–

AN: I wish I could say writing a tonne of violence isn’t fun… but I’d be lying. I hope you liked this chapter, I would love any feedback on the story so far! Comment to join the tag list too. MWA 💕

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happywolves81 · 2 years

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Overwritten – Part 2

Azriel x Reader

Summary: After months as his prisoner, Hybern has hijacked your mind, turning you into an enemy of your home, your family, and your mate, Azriel.

Warnings: Violence, torture, injuries

Words: 1,472

——–

Part 2 ∇

“Oh my word!” Feyre ran towards the Spymaster while he waded through the grass of the camp ground, your unconscious body still close to his chest. “Is she alright?”

Azriel didn’t answer as he stalked past, his eyes focused forward as he geared for his tent – your tent. Rhys caressed his mate’s face, catching her up mind to mind.

As promised, Madja was already inside, preparing the cot and supplies she may need. She hurried over to the Shadowsinger as soon as he burst through the entrance, not waiting for him to set you down to make her initial observations. While you were limp in his arms, Madja pressed her fingers to your wrist and placed the back of her palm against your clammy forehead, tutting under her breath.

While he didnt dare speak, Azriel’s golden eyes swirled with desperation, his gaze begging her for good news. His shadows hovered around you, doing their best to keep away as Madja assessed you. Drawing her hands back across her chest, she let out a quick breath.

“She’ll live,” she said plainly, Azriel’s figure sagging in relief for the third time that night. “She’s severely malnourished, dehydrated, and she’s fighting an infection. There’s also something else I can’t quite place.”

“It’s poison.” Rhys spoke from behind Azriel, he and Feyre having entered the tent. “I can see how it plagues her mind.”

Azriel couldn’t help the twang of jealousy he felt at his brother’s deamati abilities. To be able see into your mind and ease your pain, to help you sleep – these were things he would sell his soul to provide for you.

“I can feel it too, through the bond,” Azriel added gruffly. “And smell it in her scent.”

Madja nodded. “We’ll need to find the exact source for the right antidote.”

“We’ll arrange for Cassian to search the prison,” Feyre said calmly, her eyes distant as she reached the General through his mind.

Madja ushered Azriel towards the cot, directing him to place you down. It took a quiet moment to fight his own instinct to ever let you go, but your mate set you down gently, bringing a soft hand to caress your cheek. Your skin was greyish, lacking sunlight, blood, life… Azriel hoped the pain he felt at the sight of your disheveled state couldn’t be sensed down the bond.

“What of her pain?” he asked helplessly, crouching at your side. Rhys’s hand rested on his shoulder, Azriel refusing to turn from you.

“I’ve blocked her pain and willed a dreamless sleep,” Rhys reassured him.

“Good,” said Madja. “Keep it that way. She needs to fight the infection.” Rhys nodded tightly and Azriel sighed, noting the beads of sweat that formed on your face. Reaching for a nearby cloth, he dotted the sweat away.

Madja shooed Azriel away from your cot, working to clean the visible cuts and aid the bruises that spotted your body. Rhys took the opportunity to pull his brother to the side – his shadows lingering back, soothing you while you slept.

“Az, you need to prepare yourself for when she wakes.”

Azriel frowned, folding his arms over his chest, blue siphons flaring. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Feyre looked between the two males before placing a gentle hand on Azriel’s forearm. “Y/N was not herself when Rhys and Cass found her,” she said softly, her eyes full of sympathy for the Shadowinger.

“What are you saying?” Azriel’s jaw ticked, his usual stoic demeanour replaced with irritated impatience and concern.

“She didn’t recognise who we were,” Rhys said. Azriel’s eyes darted between his High Lord and Lady, now panicked. Rhys spoke quickly. “It’s likely the poison had caused her delirium, but she was violent Az, completely feral if I may speak plainly.”

Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “I can feel her down the bond. She’s still there, she’ll remember.”

“Good,” Feyre said with a broken smile. “That’s good. Keep reaching out, keep her grounded.” She rubbed her hand up and down his arm now, attempting to soothe him.

Azriel nodded, looking past the couple as your limp state. Overwhelmed by relief, regret, and fear of the unknown, tears began to sting at the Shadowsinger’s eyes. Burying his face in one hand, he tried to hide the evidence of his emotions, but his friends were too perceptive.

‘It’ll be ok, Az,” Feyre soothed.

“She’s here now brother, try not to fret,” Rhys added.

Now that he had found you, Azriel finally allowed the shame he had been burying for all those months to surface. “She’s my mate,” he said quietly, his husky voice breaking as his tears flowed freely. “She’s my mate, and I let this happen to her.”

Feyre and Rhys exchanged a pained look, agreeing down their own bond that if it had been the other, they would likely blame themselves too.

Ever so thoughtfully, Feyre guided Azriel to a seat next to your cot. Azriel slumped into the chair, his face buried in his hands as he tried to control his emotions. His shadows found him again, building around his frame – hiding, concealing.

“Stay with her brother,” Rhys patted Azriel on the shoulder. “Help her find her way back.”

Azriel nodded stiffly, mumbling a thanks to his High Lord and Lady as they left you to sleep, and him to agonise in privacy.

————

You stumbled through never ending void of complete white. No sound could be heard, and the air was still. Your heart pounded as you looked around you – sensing danger was near, but you just couldn’t see it.

This wasn’t a dream, no, it was far too painful, but it wasn’t reality either. It was a trance of types – one meant as a message or warning. One you would be sure to adhere.

You whirled, searching for any signs of life. Walking was becoming more difficult, your limbs heavy as if something plagued you, dragging you down.

Finally, you reached the edge. The edge of nothingness. Peering down, you could only see depth. One more step would send you careening into the white abyss, falling forever into nothingness, never to be found again. Your head ached as you tried to remember anything beyond this place. A world, a face, even a sound. The pain was blinding, even just to think.

It was then that you saw the shadows, the unmistakable peaks of wings blocking whatever light and warmth as they cast over you. Gasping, you spun, your stance instinctively defensive.

The male grinned down at you, his wicked smile lethal as his hazel eyes swirled. A long, serpent-like tongue glided over his teeth – no, fangs. You didn’t know what he was – a devil, a demon, perhaps and angel of death. Every part of your screamed at you to take that jump of the edge, begging you to choose the infinite free fall than to be surely killed by this thing.

His figure grew then, elongating and towering over you as his eyes changed from honey gold to a vicious red. Shadows swarmed you, pinning you to the ground. It was too late to run.

“Leave me alone!” you managed to scream, fighting against the shadows. It was hard to hear your voice over the roar of panic in your ears. Little light remained as darkness filled your vision, the creature lowering his gaze, preparing to attack. Hands turned to talons before a snarl ripped from him, his bright eyes fixed on your throat.

The snarl grew to a roar as he launched, a piercing sound escaping you as you screamed for your life.

————

Azriel jumped as you jolted awake, flying upwards as you clung to your chest, gasping. With frantic eyes you scanned the room, clutching at your filthy tunic and running a shaky hand through your hair. Azriel’s heart broke at your panic, before quickly pounding in anticipation. This was the moment he had ached, dreamt and killed for – the moment he got his mate back.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice just above a whisper. Frantic eyes found him then, widening, then darkening as they fixed on his face.

He slowly raised a hand to his chest, the other extending to your cot. “Y/N, my love, I’m so sorry.” Azriel’s eyes swelled with despair, his guilt consuming as he reached for you. You remained unmoving, your gaze shifting to where his hand now rested, almost touching you.

“It’s alright Y/N. You’re safe now love” he said in attempt to reassure you. Your chest moved up and down with breathy pants, your eyes trailing his strong arm back to his face as you studied him.

There was a beat of silence between you, just the sound of your breathing filling the tent. Your expression was unreadable as you stared at him blankly.

“Y/N, it’s me, Azriel.”

Despite Rhys’s warning, Azriel was unprepared when you launched for him, knocking him to the floor.

Eyes wide, he clawed at your hands that were tightly wrapped around his neck, your own eyes dark as you choked the air out of the Shadowsinger.

——–

AN: 👀 I hope you liked Part 2!!! 💕

Comment if you’d like to join the series or general tag list, and thank you always for reading!

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happywolves81 · 2 years

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reblog if your name isn't Amanda.

2,121,566 people are not Amanda and counting!

We’ll find you Amanda.

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happywolves81 · 2 years

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Moving On (Part Four)

⊱ Previous Part ❈ Next Part ⊰

Masterlist

Summary: After loving Azriel in secret for years, you decide it’s time for you to move on.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (She/Her)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: drugging with the implied intent to commit SA, attempted kidnapping, vomiting

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

Hope is a fickle thing. It can be a blessing, carrying us forward when the darkness seems infinite and giving us the strength to persevere. It can also be a curse, lingering despite logic and reason, making disappointment all the more crushing. You had tried to rid yourself of hope for so long where Azriel was concerned. You even thought you succeeded a few times, accepting that your feelings would never be returned. But then, a flicker of hope would spark, only to be snuffed out once again, plunging you into darkness. Last night, when Azriel said those fateful words, the hope that bloomed within you was all but explosive, fierce as a wildfire but as brief as a candle in the wind. In the end, it left you breathless and aching. And, as always, kicking yourself for your foolish whimsy.

“Do you not understand how precious you are to me?!”

The words echoed in your mind long after you left the House of Wind, twisting like a knife in your gut. You knew he didn’t mean it the way you wanted him to, and yet, for a brief moment, you had hoped you were wrong.

“Precious to you… as a friend.”

“Right.”

You replayed the memory, focusing on how he recoiled, grimacing as he clarified. As if the alternative was revolting. It had taken everything in you not to crumple as you sought out Cassian, keeping your head high and jaw tight when you asked him to fly you home. Your friend had read the look on your face but mercifully didn’t press when you shut down his line of questioning.

You spent the rest of the day shut up inside, numb and wallowing in self-pity and embarrassment, and when the sun finally set over the City of Starlight, you lay in your bed and cried.

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

“So who’s next on the roster?”

Mor startled from her place at her desk, pushing shiny blonde locks out of her face as you entered. She blinked owlishly, not answering, and you clarified, “For dates?”

“Dates?” Mor echoed, cocking her head to one side. “More dates? I thought… I figured… after what happened…”

“I’m not going to let one bad experience ruin everything,” you declared with a shrug, forcing yourself to remain the picture of nonchalance. Acting like something didn’t bother you was your specialty, and you weren’t about to switch up now. “Besides, it wasn’t one of your picks that turned out poorly.”

Mor shifted nervously, her previous enthusiasm over playing matchmaker gone. “I just thought you might want some time…” she trailed off. “Or maybe you and Az…”

“Me and Az what?” you prompted her when she didn’t finish her sentence.

“Nothing,” Mor said, plastering on a bright smile that you knew meant she was changing the subject. “If you want back in the game, we’ll get you back in the game.”

“Yep, I’m ready,” you replied, flopping into a chair across from her. Neither of you missed the way your voice wobbled with uncertainty, despite your assurances. This seemed to give Mor pause, and she was quiet for a long moment as she glanced between the fireplace and you.

“Before we go through my roster, as you call it,” Mor began, folding her hands in front of her on the desk, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you shrugged.

“Have you ever considered… would you ever consider giving Az a chance?” Her tone was gentle, almost pleading, and you shot her a questioning look.

“Az? As in… Azriel?” you asked. She nodded her expression remaining grave. “What do you mean? Give him a chance to what?”

“You know what I mean,” she pushed. “Give him a chance… to see if there’s a spark. There’s no pressure! I was just wondering if you had ever considered.”

“I’m not following,” you felt your eyebrows pinch together as you tried to unravel her words. “How would I give him a chance? He doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“Very funny,” Mor snorted, rolling her eyes in good humor, but her eyebrows shot up when she saw you were completely serious. “You’re serious.”

“Of course I’m serious,” you exclaimed. “Did you hit your head or something? Are we talking about the same Azriel? Tall, dark, handsome, speaks to shadows… that guy?”

“Yes, that Azriel,” Mor replied. “The same one who is completely in love with you.”

The air rushed from your lungs and you sputtered, you gasp soon turning into a high, keening giggle as you took in the absurdity of Mor’s statement. “That’s a good one, Mor,” you said, shaking your head. “But you really shouldn’t tease people.”

Instead of joining in as you expected, Mor shook her head in apparent exasperation and sighed. “Look, I usually wouldn’t meddle,” she began, earning an incredulous look from you. “Not in something this personal, at least. But apparently, you’re dense enough that you need a little help, so I’ll spell it out for you. Azriel is head over heels in love with you and he has been for a while.”

“You’re serious,” you said, shock sobering you.

“Completely,” Mor nodded. “By the Mother, we all thought you were just great at pretending not to notice. You really didn’t know?!”

You opened your mouth, only to shut it again when words failed you. “I don’t think… that can’t be…”

“Well, it is,” Mor said. “You’re the last to know, apparently. And now that you do know, what do you think?”

“What do I think?” you echoed numbly. Your face felt numb and a ringing filled your ears as if Mor’s revelation was a physical blow. “I don’t understand.”

“Look, if you don’t want things to change, they don’t have to,” she said. Her voice sounded distant like she was speaking from the other end of a long tunnel, and try as you might, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the fireplace to look at her. “I just thought I’d throw it out there as an option.”

The roaring in your ears grew, and if you hadn’t already been sitting, you were sure your knees would have buckled. Surely, Mor was joking… or just plain wrong. But one look at the pensive expression on her flawless face told you otherwise. Mor, as usual, was Truth, and she was being honest at this moment.

“Y/N?” the sound of your name brought you out of your thoughts, and you took a deep breath before making any reply.

“He’s not in love with me,” you said. Your voice sounded flat and dull, the polar opposite of the chaos that was roiling within you.

“He is,” was Mor’s retort.

“He’s not,” you insisted. Shock was giving way to irritation and you wanted to scream. Surely, you had enough crushed hope to last a lifetime by now. “I would know.”

Mor simply laughed at that. “Apparently, you wouldn’t know,” she said, “because he totally is.”

To your horror, helpless tears sprang to your eyes. It wasn’t her fault. Your friend didn’t know of your feelings for Azriel, so she couldn’t know how much this was ripping your heart out. But it was, and your composure was beginning to crumble. “You don’t understand,” you averted your eyes, furiously blinking back tears. “He can’t be.”

“Why not?” Mor’s voice had lost its teasing edge as she rounded her desk to sit next to you. When you finally looked up, concern and confusion were all you could read on her face. “Make me understand, Y/N.”

“He can’t be in love with me,” you said again, staring at the fire as you steeled yourself to make the confession. “He can’t be, because I’m in love with him.”

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

Azriel took deep breaths as he approached the Townhouse and worked to adopt the calm facade he usually wore without effort. There were very few things that could make the shadowsinger truly nervous, and you were at the top of the list. It had been more than a day since your last conversation, and while Azriel told himself he was giving you time to cool off, he knew that wasn’t the whole reason he had stayed away. In truth, Azriel needed time as well. Time to shore up the gaping hole in his chest and to tamp down the impulses that your presence had brought out. He had been so close to telling you the truth, and yet, he had never been further. The worst part was, he couldn’t decide if it was a blessing or a curse that you left before he lost his cool entirely. Part of him wished he’d just blurted it out if only to get the burden off his shoulders. But he knew you, knew your heart, and it would be selfish to put you through the pain of rejecting him.

So, when you rushed out of the House and into Cassian’s arms, he went to the roof instead of chasing after you. He stayed up there for several hours, punching and kicking and running until his knuckles bled and his legs shook from exertion. When he finally stopped, it wasn’t because the roaring of his thoughts had quieted or the yearning within him had ceased, but the insistence of his shadows, who were growing increasingly agitated as he ignored their pleas to rest. He acquiesced eventually, long after the sun had set over the city, and trudged down the steps towards his now empty room.

Cassian caught him in the hallway, his customary humor nowhere to be found as he appraised the shadowsinger. “Are you okay?” he asked. It was a stupid question and one they both knew he wouldn’t answer honestly, but Azriel appreciated the invitation to open up, nonetheless. Even after five hundred hears of his taciturn nature, Cassian still offered an ear every time.

“M’fine,” was all Azriel had muttered, brushing past his brother without a second look. He hadn’t thought about the way your smell would linger in his rooms, and when he opened the door, it drove the air out of his lungs as if he’d been walloped. Something like grief settled within him when he flopped down onto the sheets that smelled so strongly of you. The feeling weighed heavy in his chest, following him into his dreams when he finally drifted off.

When he woke the next morning, he ignored the tug in his chest as he inhaled, struck once more by the unyielding urge to search you out. He had only just avoided laying himself bare before you, and now he was itching to throw himself back in the fire. He wondered if this qualified as a form of masochism, to subject himself to the thing he wanted most but could never have. Perhaps it was, but the realization didn’t help and soon his wings were carrying him towards the Townhouse where you dwelled, driven by self-destructive tendencies and the selfish craving to see you again.

He stood outside the Townhouse door for a long minute after he arrived, debating whether or not to knock. On one hand, it seemed like the polite thing to do. On the other, he did technically live in the Townhouse from time to time, and not letting himself in would probably be seen as odd. In the interest of maintaining a facade of normalcy, he took one last moment to screw his features into a neutral mask and walked in.

The lower level of the Townhouse was empty, but he could hear the faint muttering of two feminine voices coming from the second floor. Mor had taken to living at the River House most of the time and had recently converted her old bedroom into an office. She said it was to get some peace and quiet away from Rhysand, but Azriel wondered if she did it to stay closer to you.

At one point in his life, he thought he was in love with Mor. He was sure his feelings for the blonde were as intense as they could get, that she was it for him. Then he met you, and the affection he’d felt for his friend paled in comparison. It was nearly laughable, in hindsight, that he had been so hung up on Mor. Now, he envied her, for the friendship she had with you.

He contemplated the change in his feelings as he ascended the stairs, his steps silent as ever. When he reached the landing, he paused before turning the corner into Mor’s office, his ear pricking as he caught the tail end of your sentence.

“He doesn’t feel that way about me,” you were saying to Mor, your tone slightly sad. Were you talking about a suitor? A friend? Azriel froze, torn between making his presence known and learning the context of that sentence, his shadows already swirling around him, concealing him from sight.

Before he could make a decision either way, Mor let out a scoff, “Very funny.” There was a pause, and Azriel resisted the urge to send his shadows around the corner, to ask them to describe the look on your face. “You’re serious,” Mor said after a long moment, sounding incredulous.

You spoke up, then, sounding almost scandalized. “Of course I’m serious. Did you hit your head or something? Are we talking about the same Azriel? Tall, dark, handsome, speaks to shadows… that guy?” Azriel’s mouth went dry, his heartbeat stuttering when you said his name. Now he was sure he should make his presence known. Eavesdropping was one thing, but listening in on a conversation about himself was too far. Aside from the obvious invasion of privacy, did he really want to know what you would say behind his back?

He willed himself to cough or move, to stop the conversation from progressing before he heard something he didn’t want to hear, but his feet remained rooted in place. A heartbeat later, Mor was responding in the affirmative, and Azriel’s stomach dropped. “Yes, that Azriel. The same one who is completely in love with you.”

Azriel’s heart seemed to stop in his chest as time ground to a halt. Mortification and dread swamped him and his shadows pulled in tighter, ready to ferry their master away from the nightmare unfolding just around the corner. He remained frozen in place, though, unable to resist the temptation of hearing your reaction. Distantly, he felt slightly betrayed that Mor had revealed his secrets, but he supposed he had his own lack of subtly to blame for that. Despite how his friends thought his affections for you were obvious, though, he had managed thus far to keep you from suspecting. Until now.

The silence that hung after Mor’s words seemed to stretch on for minutes while Azriel stood paralyzed. Then, a laugh rang out, so out of place he all but jumped at the sound. It took him a moment to figure out the laugh was coming from you, and his stomach dropped. He didn’t know what he expected, but laughter felt like a particularly cruel twist. It reminded Azriel of the way adults giggle at children when they make outrageous declarations, amused, and almost pitying. Was it really so preposterous, to picture Azriel at your side? He knew the answer, but a small part of him still hoped it wasn’t.

Azriel was traveling through shadows before he made the conscious decision to leave, unwilling to subject himself to further torment. He hadn’t heard the full conversation, hadn’t really known that you were laughing at his expense, but his insecurity filled the gaps in his knowledge, edging out logic with self-loathing and melancholy. Despite all of this, he wasn’t angry at you. You had every right to reject him. It was nothing less than expected, and he had been mentally preparing for it for years. He always knew you would reject him. He’d even made peace with it. So why did he feel so devastated?

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

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