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izbelross ¡ 6 days
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Honeysuckle
pairing: alpha!steve x alpha!bucky, alpha!steve x artist!omega!reader x alpha!bucky (poly) - omegaverse!au pt. 3
word count: 4k
summary: “Honey,” Bucky sighs wistfully, falling into your embrace while Steve stands behind you with his arms around your waist and helping you not fall over under Bucky’s hulking frame. You don’t mind though, you’d happily die by being crushed under their weight if it meant you could touch them, and have them touch you. Caressing you, kissing you, adoring you the way only they can. And despite your earlier hesitation, you wouldn’t pass up the chance to brighten up your Alphas day for anything. And their grateful kisses and pleased rumbles let you know that you did just that.
or - your Alphas take such good care of you. their mere presence brightens up your day, so when your Alphas have a rough day you take it upon yourself to show them how good of an Omega you can be, that you can provide for them too.
warnings: 18+, mild suggestive thoughts, i apologize to ur dentists bc there’s so much fluff it might give you a toothache, omega is very shy and awkward but steve and bucky are fond and patient, fluff, kissing, tw for steve using 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, tiny bit of hurt/comfort, bucky needs some lovin’
a/n: this is dedicated to the loml @buckysbarne and @buckysprettybaby who also helped beta <3
milk and honey masterlist | main masterlist | tip jar
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“Babe -“ Bucky sighs, his head hanging low and hands clenched into tight fists. “I’ll be okay.”
Steve huffs, walking up to his boyfriend and wrapping one arm around his Alphas waist, cupping his cheek with his other hand.
“It’s okay, she’ll understand,” Steve whispers softly, leaning forward and placing a delicate kiss on his mate’s forehead before pulling back and guiding Bucky to look up at him. He quickly dips his head to kiss Bucky’s lips.
“What if she doesn’t?” Bucky mumbles, shame and embarrassment flooding his body.
Why can’t he just be normal?
The day started horribly; Bucky woke up at around seven in the morning from a particularly harrowing nightmare. He hasn’t had one of those in a while, so it was very unwelcoming. This one, unlike other nightmares he’s had, was terrifying in a way he’d never felt.
He knows they’re gone, that Hydra and its agents have been obliterated, but that doesn’t mean Bucky doesn’t occasionally get anxious over the ‘what ifs’ of any potential harm Steve could go through should Hydra get him.
This ‘what if’ manifested in the form of you getting captured too. Even if he and Steve haven’t mated with you yet, they both know in their bones that you were crafted by any gods that exist to complete them. And the thought of you and Steve getting taken from him is far worse than anything Hydra could ever do to him.
Steve had to shake him awake, and he hadn’t been able to stop crying long enough to explain what had happened. After ten minutes of shaking and sobbing into his mate’s chest, he was finally able to articulate the horrifying images that now plague his mind, Steve had held him close, and he had kissed his cheeks and forehead and hairline, all while cooing words of affirmation and love.
The day only got worse from there. After the dream, it started with small things; he burned his hand while trying to make coffee - then spilled the coffee all over his favorite shirt. He ran out of his shampoo and had to use Steve’s - and, listen, Bucky is fully convinced that he survived Hydra because the universe wanted them together again, but Steve could definitely use some better shower products. The whole ‘two-in-one’ thing just doesn’t cut it for Bucky.
But then they had to meet up with their teammates for a briefing over a mission that Bucky is really not excited about, and found out the original one-day mission was going to be three days. Three whole days without you? Luckily Steve is coming with him, but then he thought about you being without both of them and started getting anxious. Now, even though you all haven’t been together for long, and they both know you can handle yourself, they detest the idea of leaving you for an extended period.
They’d managed to sneak in a few texts to you. Wishing you a good day at work, sending heart emojis when you send them a picture of a cute dog you saw while walking to the studio - Sam and Natasha spent a long time trying to get the men to understand modern language - and sending you pictures of them while they were too bored to listen to Tony talk.
But then they went to a coffee shop intending to grab their coffee and rush back to their apartment to get a few things so they could pick you up from work and take you to the new ice cream shop that opened up a few blocks from your studio. Dark clouds came rushing overhead while they were waiting for their drinks, and they decided to wait out the storm in a corner booth.
But people were staring, giving them - mainly Bucky - nervous glances, and a few people at the table next to them ate quicker than someone usually would and then placed a wad of cash on the table before rushing out.
Suddenly the idea of getting ice cream doesn’t sound so appealing.
Steve noticed because he’s so attuned to his mate that he knows Bucky is dejected, Bucky is hurt, he’s tired. Tired of people still judging him. Tired of being accused of things that he had no control over. They didn’t stay long, deciding that getting soaked while racing home was better than being in a place that’s now making Bucky feel unsafe.
Bucky’s been fighting with himself ever since they got home and changed out of their wet clothes. He wants to spend time with you more than anything, and you’ve been excited about this date ever since they told you, and Bucky will be damned if he doesn’t give you anything you want. But he really doesn’t think he can handle being in public right now.
His body is hurting with how bad he’s trying to force the negativity out of his mind enough so he can enjoy being with you, but it’s hard. And Steve telling him that you’ll understand that he can’t go out breaks him. His fists clench tighter.
Bucky wants to be normal for you. He wants to go out with his mates and not get worried about getting less-than-friendly looks at the three of you.
“I’m going to call her,” Steve says calmly, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and pulling him in tight while Bucky’s body starts to shake with how badly he wants to cry. “I’ll call her and I’ll tell her that you’re not feeling well, but we’ll go to her studio tomorrow for lunch. Okay?”
Bucky takes a deep, shaky breath before nodding, trying his hardest to not blame himself when he imagines the look on your face as Steve tells you they have to cancel. Steve kisses his mate's forehead and then untangles himself so he can get his phone.
It doesn’t take long for you to answer, and Bucky can hear your chipper “Hi Stevie!” and suddenly he wants to cry harder. He also hears Steve telling you that Bucky isn’t feeling well and that they’ll come visit you tomorrow. You go quiet for a moment before asking Steve to pass the phone to your other Alpha. And when Bucky mumbles, “Hey, honey,” he knows you can hear that he’s holding back tears.
“Hi, Alpha,” Your sweet voice immediately fills him with warmth, images of your smile filling his head. “You’re not feeling well?”
“No,” Bucky clears his throat, trying to force himself to not feel bad about it. “I’m really sorry, honey. I promise we’ll make it up to you.”
You pause, and suddenly Bucky is worried that you’re mad. But before his mind can spiral into more negative thoughts, your voice - soft and shy - asks if he’s home. And when he tells you that he is, you simply say “good,” and then hang up.
Well, fuck. Bucky tries to convince himself that you’re not upset, but Steve can see that it’s not working well. And at his boyfriend's suggestion of a nap, he trudges upstairs, lying down in bed and wishing upon every star in the universe that you’ll forgive him.
____________
When you heard that Bucky wasn’t feeling well you immediately thought of the worst. Is he sick? Well, that doesn’t make sense, he’s a super soldier after all. Is he hurt? That’s a possibility, their jobs are tough.
Does he… not want to see you? As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you dismiss it. Bucky and Steve have shown over and over that they like you and want to be with you. The word ‘love’ flashes through your mind but you dismiss that as well. It’s too soon, right?
No matter what’s actually going on, you know you need to make him feel better. As soon as you hung up the phone you gathered everything you needed to make apple pies. But then you faltered, what if he doesn’t like apple pie? Well, you have things to make brownies, and you know both Alphas love them. So you took out everything needed to make brownies with the intention of bringing them over when they were done.
But then a thought popped up. Would they even want you in their house? There were a few times when you told them they could come inside your apartment while you finished getting ready for a date night, but they politely declined. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now you’re worried you might be crossing a line.
You’ve just put the mixture in the oven when you decide that you’ll just drop them off and then leave. You don’t want to make them uncomfortable, especially since Bucky isn’t feeling well. While the brownies cook, you run to your bedroom to change into somewhat presentable clothes. You don’t bother getting all dressed up since you’re not going anywhere but your Alphas’ place, and even then you won’t be staying long.
By the time the dessert is done and put into a container, you’ve talked yourself in and out of going several times. Finally, after several minutes of having a mild freak-out, you gather the courage to gather your things and get in your car.
The entire drive has you a little on edge, though you know you have to do it. Not necessarily out of obligation, but because you want to make your Alpha’s happy. They’re always doing little things for you; buying you new plush blankets, getting you food on their way to visit your studio, Steve had even given you a sweater that both he and Bucky regularly wear - fully knowing and hoping you’ll use it for your nest.
Those men make you happier than anyone else ever could, you relish in their praise, your whole body lit up in flames whenever they get all sweet on you - which is all the time, neither man can resist kissing you, hugging you, telling you how you’re the sweetest Omega to ever exist.
They make you happy, and you will do everything you can to make them happy too. You want to be the perfect Omega for them, to show them that you can provide for them too, and that thought is what fuels you to park outside of their house and gather everything.
Your confidence wanes when you get to the front door, anxious again that the Alphas would be upset that you came over. You don’t even get a chance to think about leaving because the door opens wide, and Steve stands there with a smile.
“Honey,” He says, giving you that same longing gaze he always gives you. His eyes travel down to the container you’re holding, his smile growing wider while you cast your eyes down to the floor nervously. “What is that?”
A part of you wants to laugh, you know his heightened sense of smell can already figure it out. You don’t though, you merely shuffle on the porch nervously.
“W-Well I - um… I know Bucky isn’t feeling well, and I wanted to drop off some brownies for you guys.” Your eyes suddenly go wide, a small panicked noise leaving your lips. “Which I just now realized is probably not a good thing for Bucky to eat right now.”
You kind of want to smack your forehead. You were so focused on trying to be helpful that you didn’t even think of what would actually help Bucky feel better. Sensing your growing panic, Steve hums softly, reaching out and taking the dessert from your hands.
“That’s really sweet, honey,” Steve purrs, transferring the container to one hand so he can take your hand in his free one. “Thank you.”
An unexpected squeak leaves your lips, warmth filling your body as you squeeze Steve’s hand and smile up at him shyly.
“Y-You’re welcome, Stevie.” Your voice is soft, nearly indiscernible except for your Alpha with his advanced hearing. “Um, just… I guess you can text me later and tell me how they taste?” It’s phrased as an uncertain question because you don’t want to make him feel like he has to, but you desperately hope he does. You need their praise more than air.
“You’re not staying?”
That question has your head snapping up so you can look at him directly, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you take in his equally confused gaze.
“I - um. I guess I just thought you wouldn’t want me to. I mean, you never want to come in my house, so I just figured you wouldn’t want me in yours.” Your voice comes out shakier than you’d like, and the hope that he’d invite you in is creeping up. “Which is fine! You - you don’t have to, and I don’t want to make you guys uncomfortable, especially since Bucky isn’t feeling well.”
Steve sighs, his scent souring a little as though he’s disappointed, and now you’re anxious over possibly saying something wrong. But when he senses your growing panic, he tugs on your hand until you follow him inside. And immediately, the aroma of both Bucky and Steve’s scent calms you down.
“Of course we want you here, sweet Omega.” Steve smiles at you again, pulling you further into the house until you get to the kitchen not far from the entryway. He drops your hand so he can place the food on the counter. The Alpha quickly moves toward you, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you into his chest. Plush, soft lips land on the top of your head, and they linger there for a few moments.
As though he sensed your arrival, Bucky comes rushing into the kitchen with a wide smile.
“Omega,” He says, walking toward you and Steve with purpose so he can wrap around you too.
“Our sweet girl brought us some brownies since you aren’t feeling well.” You can hear the smile in Steve’s voice, and they both release their hold on you so you can turn around and face Bucky.
Bucky goes silent, and when you place your hands on his chest you can feel how his heart rate picks up. And after a few moments of simply staring into your eyes, his smile softens, his body relaxing.
“Oh, honey,” Bucky sighs wistfully, falling into your embrace while Steve stands behind you with his arms around your waist and helping you not fall over under Bucky’s hulking frame. You don’t mind though, you’d happily die by being crushed under their weight if it meant you could touch them, and have them touch you. Caressing you, kissing you, adoring you the way only they can. And despite your earlier hesitation, you wouldn’t pass up the chance to brighten up your Alphas’ day for anything. And their grateful kisses and pleased rumbles let you know that you did just that.
“Thank you,” Bucky mumbles into your neck as he presses soft and chaste kisses to the area. “You’re perfect.”
You can’t help the nervous chuckle that passes through your lips, nor can you stop yourself from shaking your head, immediately trying to deny it. While you love praise, specifically theirs, you don’t really feel like you deserve it sometimes. How can these two perfect Alpha’s possibly be interested in you? You’re not too sure why they like you, but you try not to think too hard about it. You don’t want to overthink everything and spiral into self-doubt, which would then lead you to sabotage the relationship, and you absolutely don’t want that.
“I-It’s nothing, really. I just want to make you feel better.” Your voice is small and shy, and you cast your eyes downward when Bucky pulls away from you to look at you with such intensity that it makes your entire body go warm. Your heartbeat speeds up when Steve steps back too and moves so he can stand beside Bucky and look at you directly.
“It’s not nothing, baby,” Steve sighs, reaching out and placing a large hand on the back of your neck and turning your head upwards so he can hold your gaze, and it’s absolutely impossible to suppress the shiver that runs down your spine. Oh, how you want to feel his hands on… other parts of your body.
“It’s thoughtful,” Bucky adds, lightly squeezing your hips. “We mean it; thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” You say softly, smiling at both of them and reaching out to place your hands on each Alpha’s chests. In a quick and bold move, you lean up on your toes to place a gentle kiss on Steve’s lips, then move over to Bucky.
Bucky, however, decides a single peck isn’t enough. Steve keeps his hand on the back of your neck and angles your head so it’s easier for Bucky to slide his tongue along your bottom lip and take advantage of your surprised squeak by slipping his tongue into your mouth. He swallows your little gasps and sighs, snaking his arms around your waist to pull your body flush against his.
The intensity of the kiss comes to a halt when Steve’s stomach rumbles. You and Bucky break apart with breathless chuckles, turning to look at Steve’s sheepish expression.
“Sorry,” He laughs, sliding his hand from your neck to the side of your face, and he smiles wider when you nuzzle and kiss his palm. “We haven’t eaten since this morning.”
“I can cook for you!” You say quickly, surprised with yourself by how fast you were to offer. You’re not the best cook, but depending on what food they have you’re pretty sure you whip up something presentable. Plus, your inner Omega is just aching to please them.
“You don’t need to do that, honey,” Bucky says, stepping back but keeping one hand on your back. “We can just order something.”
“Please?” You ask softly, smiling up at him and using the fact that he can never say no to your pout to your advantage. “I want to.”
Both men sigh, fully knowing that they could never deny you anything you want. So, they both nod, stepping aside so you can go to their fridge.
“You can just make something easy, it doesn’t matter to us.” Steve kisses your forehead, then smiles as he turns to look at Bucky while you go about finding something to cook. Pulling him in close, Steve quickly kisses Bucky’s lips and murmurs, “Told ya she’d understand.”
____________
“Told ya she’d understand.”
Steve chuckles when Bucky playfully shoves his elbow into his Alpha’s stomach. And Steve absolutely cannot stop himself from kissing Bucky again. And one more time. He can’t help it though, Bucky was feeling so awful earlier, and seeing his genuine smile and sparkling eyes fills him with happiness.
“Shut up, punk,” Bucky mumbles with a playful roll of his eyes, wiggling out of Steve’s hold so he can go sit at the kitchen island. Steve follows him, muttering “jerk” low under his breath as he sits next to Bucky.
The two men sit side by side, both with love-stricken gazes and twinkling eyes as they watch you flit around the kitchen happily, grabbing things here and there. They aren’t too sure what exactly you’re making, but it starts smelling good in no time. But the underlying scent of happiness coming from all three of you is what really strikes Bucky’s heart.
And in no time at all the food has been finished, and you make sure to pile their plates full of the food.
“I know spaghetti is boring, but I added a few spices so I hope you like it.” Your voice is soft and shy as you present them with their plates, and your rapidly beating heart showcases your nerves. You’re desperately hoping they like it - maybe praise you a bit for taking care of them.
“We’ll love it,” Steve says quickly, getting off the chair and walking up to you with a wide smile. “We’ll love anything you make us, honey.”
The squeak you let out makes both Alphas chuckle, giving you such soft gazes that makes you want to bare your neck to them in submission. With that, Steve and Bucky take their food and guide you to the couch in the living room, being careful as they sit down while Bucky pulls you into his lap.
They take time eating, occasionally feeding you despite your assurances that you already ate before you came over. They don’t care though, because they’ll be damned if they don’t dote on you for making them feel better.
And when the food has been eaten, Bucky gives you a glare when you offer to do dishes. “You’ve worked hard enough, honey,” Bucky tells you, wrapping his arms tighter around you to keep you in place.
It’s at that moment that Bucky realizes that this, the three of you under one roof, on one couch, is what home is for him. With you in his lap and Steve cuddled into his side, he knows that he’s the luckiest guy in the world, how can’t he be? He has his Alpha; the greatest love of his life, and you; the sweetest Omega to ever exist who’s teaching Bucky how to be happy in ways he never thought possible.
He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until you make a slightly distressed sound, your hands coming up to cup his cheek.
“Buck?” Steve coos, bringing up a hand so he can run his finger through his mate’s hair. “What’s wrong?”
Bucky sniffles, shaking his head as he wipes his eyes, then takes hold of one of your hands so he can kiss your knuckles. He smiles, so soft and sweet and innocent, smiling wider when Steve presses a kiss to his cheek.
“It’s stupid,” Bucky says with a quiet huff and shrugs. “I just… Today was shit, like, awful. And I’ve been happy all these years with Steve by my side, but other than right now, the only time I can remember feeling this happy was when I was finally reunited with him.”
Bucky briefly glances over at Steve, giving him that soft and adoring look he always gives him, then looks back at you and holds your gaze.
“You make me happy, Omega.”
Your eyes go wide, a soft gasp escaping your lips. Because, while you don’t know everything about what’s transpired in their lives and relationship, you know that it must be a pretty big deal for him to say this. And it fills you with a feeling dangerously close to love, but you can’t help it. Bucky’s been through the depths of hell and back, and he deserves everything good in the world. And you being able to give him some of that goodness just makes you want to cry.
“You-“ You cut yourself off, clearing your throat to suppress the waver in your voice. “You make me happy too. Both of you.”
“Good, Omega,” Steve purrs, reaching across Bucky to give you a tender kiss.
And when you break away from Steve, you turn to give Bucky a kiss as well, and Bucky? Well, Bucky is pretty sure (re: totally confident) that he loves you. He knows Steve does too, which makes everything easier. Knowing that they’re on the same page about their feelings for you gives him reassurance that maybe this could work out.
He wants to mate with you, he wants to be with you in every way possible. And when you pull away and smile at your Alphas with that sweet and tender way you always do, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, you want that too.
So who can really blame him when Bucky asks, “Will you mate with us?”
From next to him, Steve doesn’t visibly react, though his heartbeat speeding up and the flush creeping up on his face tells Bucky that he wants that too - they’ve also spoken about it in length, so he knows he’s not just speaking for himself.
All the two men can do now is wait for your answer with bated breaths. It comes only a half of a second later.
“Of course.”
m&h masterlist: @the-ginger-fairy-artist / @supernovatardis / @perdidosbucky-yyo / @wckedheart / @kandis-mom / @wandaneedstherapy / @bigcreatorwombatdreamer / @venusfly11 / @buckybarnesmetalarmswife775 / @the-photo-hoe / @matsumama / @fandoms-writings / @thornsnvultures / @sadboiabby / @lily-excal / @alright-i-guesss / @blondie-bluue / @loveforreading / @marvel-wifey-86 / @wheezy-stucky / @exposition-belongs-somewhere / @stuckysbike / @starkblackwolf / @caitlink26 / @dreaming-potato / @lethargicluv / @perfectlyboring / @monicachic13 / @akmenia / @shawnftjacob / @hc-kerr / @iamfandomwasted / @wizardofstories / @emerald-writes / @matchat3a  / @mollygetssherlockcoffee / @normalgirlnextdoor / @lolitsbuckybarnes / @rippedpiece / @biteofcherry
main taglist: @lilyalone / @crazyunsexycool / @goldylions / @yeehawbrothers / @buckyssweetheart
494 notes ¡ View notes
izbelross ¡ 6 days
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Garbage Men - Mafia AU
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The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel, including running legitimate businesses, keeping ears to the ground, knowing who to bribe and more.
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Dream Come True (Curtis Everett)
Summary: One legitimate business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.
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Sparks Fly (James Mace)
Summary: After working as an engineer for Wilford & Gilliam Trust for several years you find evidence of seedy dealings and burned books. After turning in the evidence you find yourself in danger and seek help. You're taken into the protection of a mob family where you run into your high school best friend, Mace.
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Changing Minds (Nick Fowler)
Summary: Your long time work acquaintance Nick Fowler offers to take you to a fancy fundraiser as a way of cheering you up. He insists it's only as friends but when he sees you falling into the grasp of someone he knows is no good, he might change his mind on that.
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His Hummingbird (Steve Rogers)
Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.
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Nonspecific Asks and Drabbles
Honey Pot (Hal Carter)
Kink Matching (Curtis Everett, James Mace, Nick Fowler, Steve Rogers)
Reader Swap (Hal Carter, Nick Fowler)
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izbelross ¡ 2 months
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Of Oblivious Minds (4)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst
a/n: Thank you for reading and sorry for the wait!! I hope you enjoy :) Let me know what you think ❤️
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
~~
You were leaving today, and suddenly—with your bags at your feet and the air around you filled with stagnant silence—a few days seemed so juvenile. So… inconsequential in the grand scheme. 
You would leave, and when you returned everything would be the same. Azriel would still love another and you would still be left with the bleak realization that you had spent the last few centuries denying a love that you knew to be fruitless. 
Nothing would change if you were to be gone only a few measly days. 
But if you were to be gone a month? A year, even? 
Much of your work for Rhysand could be done from afar, especially with the library in Day Court. Helion wouldn’t mind; he’d asked you to consider an extended stay in the past. And maybe there could even be something there, something to take your mind off of your true home. 
The home that wasn’t Velaris. 
You saw him every time you closed your eyes. His rare smiles, his even rarer laughs; you saw the way his watchful eyes skated across every room you entered and reminisced on each twitch of his hands—the way you could feel it against your fingers when you grabbed for him in the busy streets of Velaris. 
Azriel was inescapable, even when you battled against your vision and attempted to drift to sleep. 
He was everywhere, everything. 
But he wouldn’t be in Day Court, and although that wouldn't stop your thoughts, it would be something. It would be distance. 
With a flick of your wrist, you sent your bags away to Day Court and heaved in an uncomfortably large breath. You knew he would do little to deny you, but you still needed to ask Rhys. He was your High Lord and employer, above all your friend, and you knew it would take a little persuading. 
Maybe tears. Yes, tears were very moving and equally as conjurable at the moment.
It only took one step before the knock on your door left you still. Your shoes made a dent in the carpet and you could hear him breathing on the other side of the ornately carved wood. You could always tell when it was Azriel. 
You shifted your weight from one knee to the next, gripping your skirts at the thigh. Azriel knocked again, this time in a faster pattern—more rushed. 
You bit into your lip. You hadn’t planned to see him again, not before you left. You would deal with the repercussions of such an act later on, but not now. Not when you had finally gotten your emotions under control for long enough to have a conversation with Rhys. 
It made sense to you now why you had repressed this for so long. 
The sound of your voice was startling. “Come in.” 
The door creaked, but the sound was overpowered by Azriel’s boot clicking against shining marble. The shadowsinger entered before his shadows, but the wisps followed close behind, quickly abandoning their master in favor of darting toward you. They twisted up your legs and elbows, rolling into your hair and dancing along your fingertips. 
Something like fear, love, crushing defeat tugged and tugged at your chest. 
“Azriel,” you greeted, aiming for a surprised tone and failing. “Have you come to see me off?” 
The spymaster didn’t smile. “Rhys sent me. He said you might have a message for him.” 
That cauldron-damned meddler. Of course he somehow knew about your reservations. You doubted he knew exactly what you had to say, but you had been dragging your feet all morning and were currently about an hour late for your own departure. 
And of course he had sent Azriel of all people. 
“Oh! Well, I suppose I could go and—” 
“Why is half of your vanity gone?” 
You blinked, startled by the words. If Azriel was anything, he was polite and never one to cut someone off. You went to search Azriel’s expression but found him zeroed in on the table pushed into the corner of your room. 
“What?” It was all you could think to formulate. 
But Azriel was quick to respond. “Almost all of your things are gone. Your perfumes and the pots of cream you keep on the side. You’ve only left the items you don’t use anymore.” 
“How do you know—” you cut yourself off this time, ignoring the glaring question that tried to blind you. “Azriel, I’m going away… to Day Court. You know this.”
But Azriel only shook his head, stalking over to the table and yanking the drawer open so harshly it shook the mirror. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he went to your closet, throwing open the door, shoulders rising and falling with more effort. 
“Azriel—” 
“You’ve packed too much.” He turned to you, some of his shadows returning to wind around his chest. “You’ve taken most of your clothes.” 
“You know I always overpack,” you laughed, but the laugh sounded fake, painful. 
You fought the urge to cower under Azriel’s scrutinizing gaze. It was as if he was on fire, as if he was aflame and filled with something that had been pent up for far too long. If someone, anyone, were to look inside of you, they would see the same thing. 
Which is why you needed to get far, far away from this situation. Away from him.
But the longer you looked back at him—the longer you tried to slap that easygoing smile on your face—the longer he stared back with the same steady intensity. 
“Is something the matter?” you tried. 
Azriel’s hand twitched. 
That feeling crept along the edges of your ribs once again. 
“Is something the matter?” he parroted, jaw so impossibly tight the words came out pinched. 
You finally looked away, playing with your fingers. “Yes?” 
He started laughing. But it wasn’t the kind of laugh that made you feel light. It didn’t fill you with pride for eliciting such a sound from him, nor did it make you want to laugh in return. It made you feel dark; as Azriel laughed, you wanted to heave the sound back within the depths it flowed from. 
“There are several things that are the matter, y/n, but I’d say the most pressing is that you have been avoiding me for weeks. That every moment I’ve tried to spend with you has been promptly evaded and now you’re leaving and you had no intention of saying goodbye.” 
“I was going to—” 
“Please,” he pleaded, eyes soft yet so achingly desperate. “Don’t lie to me. Not right now.” 
The indent in the carpet was becoming permanent; you couldn’t seem to move. 
“I’ve been… I’ve been going through a hard time. Leaving seemed like it was the best for me. Just for a little while. Just until I could sort a few things out.” 
“For how long?” he asked, voice cracking along the precipice of the last word. 
You paused then, staring hard into his eyes. “A while.”
A shaky breath left the shadowsinger, his chest reflecting the sound. He ran a hand into his hair and tugged at the roots, an action you hadn’t seen him do in years. A sickening sort of pity ran through you—a sort of responsibility. 
Because Azriel was your friend, and he was going through something, too. You had no idea if his mate reciprocated his feelings. You found it hard to believe that anyone wouldn’t love Azriel, but the conversation you’d overheard last week gave nothing away. 
Maybe Azriel hadn’t told her yet because she didn’t love him. And maybe you were being a bad friend by not being there for him. 
Tossing your hurt to the side, you took a step forward. Azriel watched the movement, eyes flickering behind you to catch the previous imprint of your feet on the carpet. 
“I’m sorry,” you began, resolute. “I’m sorry that you felt you couldn’t tell me. And that you’ve been… having a hard time. I know I’m not leaving at the most opportune time, but you can write to me and I can help you.” 
Some of the brokenness on Azriel’s face morphed into confusion. “Help me?” 
“With your mate.” 
And it was as if Azriel had been shot. He physically recoiled, his right foot coming down to catch him as he fixed his imbalance. 
“I know you wanted to keep it private, but I overheard. Azriel—” You swallowed. Hard. “—It’s so wonderful that you’ve found your mate.” 
Something was set in motion, and Azriel was shaking his head. His gaze was fixed on you and his eyebrows were pushed together in a painful expression and he just kept shaking his head as your chest caved and it became hard to breathe. Something pulled from within and it felt like your heart was unraveling. 
Couldn’t he see how hard this was? How much it took from you just to acknowledge that he was destined for someone else? 
The shadowsinger seemed unaware of your inner turmoil, instead taking long steps across the room until he reached you. He leaned down, brought his hands up to your face, and he broke another piece of you as his forehead touched yours. 
He was whispering something, words so low even your fae ears couldn’t catch them, but you knew they were fast. Fast and incoherent and you weren’t even able to find their meaning in his expression because his eyes were squeezed so tightly. 
“Please, just notice. See it, angel, it’s there.” 
Your jaw quivered. He was so close to you. The few words you were able to make out were confusing. 
“My oblivious girl. Please.” 
“Azriel—” 
When he opened his eyes, the world fell off its axis. The fear in your chest—the feeling that had been unraveling you and leaving you weak—alighted. It pulled and pulled but this time it didn’t hurt. It no longer left splinters embedded in your ribs or took the breath from your lungs. 
As you looked up at Azriel, it was only soothing and warm and—
Mate. Azriel was your mate. 
You pushed back from him, stumbling and catching on the rug as you went toppling down to the floor. There was no pain from the fall; a numbness overtook your body where the warmth once flowed. 
“You’re my—Azriel, you—” 
There were no endings to the sentences you began. Azriel tried reaching a hand down, but when you wouldn’t take it he joined you on the floor. He sat with you between his legs, bringing you forward until your knees curled against his chest. And then he wrapped you in his arms and then his wings, taking calming breaths as yours ran rampant. 
“I am your mate,” he finished for you, so much more soothing than you had ever heard him speak.
“But Elain,” you gasped out, finding solace against his chest. You leaned your forehead against him and relished in the heat. 
“What of Elain?” Azriel asked, bringing a hand up against the back of your head. 
“You love Elain.” 
“I do not love Elain.” 
“And Mor?” 
“I do not love Mor, either.” 
You nodded against him. This would take longer for you to come to terms with later, but only simple answers were getting through to you now. And the bond—the bond—sang as you touched Azriel. The bond didn’t care if you were confused or hurt or disbelieving.
Your mind swam as a new influx of emotions filled you, but there was a distinction to them and you knew they weren’t your own. At first, it was hard to pick through them all; there were so many that they all blended together. There was an obvious tender love, but also a crippling fear that mingled with a darkness you couldn’t place. There was adoration and hopefulness and a sense of peace that lay at the bottom of all else. 
But you could tell this peace was new. It wasn’t as deeply ingrained as the others. 
Azriel leaned back, craning his neck down to catch your gaze. “Do you feel that?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued. “Those feelings have always belonged to you. All of them. I know there is not a lot of proof of that, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for that, but they have always belonged to you.” 
“Have you always felt mine?” you asked, voice sounding unused. 
“Since I’ve felt the bond,” he nodded. 
“How long have you…” 
Azriel sighed, but it wasn’t out of irritation. The bond told you as much. “Months.” 
Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “Then why did you never—” 
Azriel shushed you as your voice cracked. He ran both hands behind your head and held you steady as his lips pressed to your forehead. 
“I didn’t want to lose you.” 
Throat still closed, words still choked, you replied, “That is idiotic.” 
This time, when Azriel laughed, you felt that pride spark up in your chest. “I know, angel. Gods, do I know that.” 
There was a brief pause, a respite to the revelations and emotions in the room. You counted your breaths as you pressed against Azriel, and he ran his hands up and down the length of your spine, chaste kisses pressed to your head as the minutes ticked by. 
“Don’t leave.” Azriel broke the silence. “Stay. Please.” 
When you didn’t answer, he kept talking. 
“You don’t have to love me. I know that is a lot to ask and there are still so many questions left unanswered. But, y/n, I have loved you for a long, long time. I couldn’t bear it if you left. It has been difficult to even function this past week with you avoiding me. If you were to leave—”
“I only avoided you because I thought it wasn’t me,” you interrupted, pulling back once again to meet his gaze. “I thought you didn’t love me and I couldn’t stand it, so I wanted to leave.”
A grim line set into Azriel’s mouth. The desperation returned to his eyes. “We have wasted so much time.” 
“I wouldn’t say wasted. Not when you were here. Not when I was still with you.” 
“Angel.” The word came out like a plea, and then his lips were on yours. His hands pressed you closer and his mouth was hot against yours and it was everything you’d spent three centuries ignoring. You loved him, gods did you love him, and in this kiss was every proof that he loved you. 
You tangled your fingers in his hair, musing the already displaced strands. His wings quivered as you kissed him more, the action sending little pools of light into the bubble he had created. They felt warm against your eyelids, and when you pulled away to see the cause, Azriel moved his attention to your jaw, your cheek, your neck. 
“You are my mate,” he affirmed against your skin, low and gravelly. “Mine.” 
You pulled his head away, leaning your forehead against his own. “And you are mine.” 
“I love you,” he said. 
And you couldn’t say it back, not yet. Azriel seemed unperturbed by this and accepted your small smile as a reply, reciprocating it tenfold. His smile shone in the pockets of light created by his wings and his eyes no longer looked sad. It made you want to say it back.
When that guilt flooded you and your mouth parted, there was a tug at the bond instead. You gasped at the feeling, blinking up at Azriel with owlish eyes. 
“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he admitted, smile softening as he ran scarred fingers along your cheeks. “Every time I felt your doubt or fear. I figured I could startle it out of you.” 
You rubbed at your chest. “It feels warm. And…” You couldn’t find the words.
“It feels good, angel. This bond was cold and it hurt, but it—it feels good. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” 
A breathy, awestruck laugh escaped you. “You know, I still have to go to Day for the weekend. It’s court-appointed.” 
Azriel groaned, burying his face in your neck. “Then I will come with you,” he grumbled, words muffled against your skin. 
“You cannot. But you can wait for me to return and I will come right back here.”
2K notes ¡ View notes
izbelross ¡ 2 months
Text
Of Oblivious Minds (3)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: Azriel's POV (it's a warning here), angst
a/n: I am blown away by all of you and your support!! I really love writing for this fandom omg. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy ♡ Let me know what you think!! I'll get the next update up soon!
Part 1, Part 2, Part 4
~~
Azriel was losing his ever-loving mind. 
A few weeks ago, everything was fine. Not optimal, but fine. 
He knew his mate, and that was more than could be said for most of Prythian. But even more than that, he could love her from afar. He could make small remarks and catch the smiles they would elicit. He could send his shadows after her on her walks home, protecting her even though she had the entire Inner Circle looking out for her wellbeing. He could buy the ridiculously expensive pastries she loved and stock the kitchens with them, listening for the small gasps she let out each time she found them.
He could talk to you, listen to you, love you in his small ways, even if it wasn’t the ways in which he longed for. 
Because it wasn’t the right time yet. You hadn’t felt the bond for yourself. 
So, yes—admittedly, Azriel had not been in the most optimal position with you. But it was leaps and bounds better than the purgatory you were subjecting him to now. 
He mulled over his current reality as he sat opposite to you at the dining table. He had had to snag the seat from Mor, ripping the chair from her hand in an uncharacteristic show of aggression, and you hadn’t so much as looked up from your plate. He would’ve rather fought for the seats beside you, but Rhys and Cassian had been sitting before he even entered the room. So now he fought for your eyes and was too far away to offer any lingering, accidental touches. 
Not that you would reciprocate either. 
You were avoiding him, and Azriel was at his wit's end trying to decipher why. 
His shadows had relayed dismal reports, only whispering the words sad and alone and contemplative into his ears each morning. He could have guessed as much, if the display of emotions he had tried to comfort you through all those days ago told him anything. 
But Gods, did they really tell him nothing, because you hadn’t spoken to him since. 
“—that is certainly something to consider. Y/n, would you be open to the job?” 
“Hm?” you hummed, and Azriel watched as your eyes flickered over to Rhys in one abrupt movement. “Sorry, what?” 
Rhys raised a brow lined with humor, and Azriel realized he hadn’t been listening to the conversation either. “Helion has extended an invitation to the Night Court—for diplomatic relations and all. It’s mostly a weekend stay for show, but he has quite an extensive library. Feyre and I went last time so it would only be fair if—” 
“Yes,” you nodded, the most emotion Azriel had seen on your face in days blooming into a joyous array. “Of course, I would love to go. Are you kidding?” 
Rhys chuckled. “I figured. Helion has been quite eager to get you to come as well. Seemed like the perfect time.” 
Azriel didn’t miss the way the High Lord’s eyes shone with something other than mirth as he looked closer at the scholar… as he inspected your facade the same way Azriel had been for the past week. 
“When can I leave?” 
Something in Azriel scratched to a halt. “She’s to go alone?” 
Feyre offered the spymaster a soft smile from the other side of the table. “If she wishes. Helion’s invitation was open-ended.” 
“Take the vacation, I say,” Mor piped in, wine glass raised in a solitary toast. 
“Or… you could take me,” Cassian grinned beside you, jostling you in a playful grip. 
You sent a scoff his way. “Aren’t you banned?” 
“No, actually. I’m banned from Summer Court, which is completely unrelated.” 
A short laugh trickled from your lips. It wasn’t a full one, not like the ones Azriel was so used to—the ones he basked in—but it was a laugh, nonetheless.
He felt the way his eyes seemed to follow the crescendo of it, his blinks in time with the sweet sound. 
He committed it to memory. 
“Right, well let’s keep you away from neighboring courts as much as possible so we can avoid a repeat of that, okay?” 
Something like a grin fought at the side of Azriel’s mouth at your quip. 
Cassian prattled on. Something about unjust rules or ridiculous high lords—Azriel wasn’t paying attention. He was too caught up in you and the way you were so close to meeting his gaze. 
“Perhaps she shouldn’t go alone,” Azriel spoke up, interrupting his brother’s spiel. You still didn’t look at him, instead turning to catch Rhys’s response. 
“Azriel, I can assure you this is a safe visit,” Rhys offered. He knew. Everyone seemed to know but you. “It’s hardly even business. It’s more of a vacation. I’ve been shoving century-old relics in her face for the past few months. She deserves time to herself, don’t you think?” 
His High Lord was speaking in code. A terrible, frustrating code that really meant, “give her some distance.” 
Azriel had had enough of distance. 
He nodded his head all the same. 
And then, despite all odds, you looked at him. 
You looked at him and it was as if the air had been knocked from his lungs. As if he had been wrung out and stretched thin and every bone in his body forced him to sit up straighter. You were looking at him and Azriel couldn’t conceptualize the way the spectrum in his chest moved so quickly from utter relief to the brink of desolation. 
Because you looked at him as if you were broken. A sad—such a sad—smile graced your face, one he had never had the displeasure of seeing before, and he wanted to wipe it away. He wanted to kiss it from your face with soft touches and reassuring whispers and that was startling for Azriel because he usually kept his overwhelming urge to kiss you at bay. 
“I’ll bring you back a souvenir,” is all you said. Such simple words to accompany an expression that sent him reeling. 
“Thank you,” he replied, with the most sincerity he could muster. 
And then he held your gaze as it became downcast. He craned his neck to catch every last second of your eyes as they turned back down to the table.
It was hours later that Azriel found himself in the townhouse, boots creating an indent in the office carpet. Rhys sat just feet away from him, leaning back against the desk, waiting for the Shadowsinger to erupt. 
“I would like for you to position your spies further into Autumn. I know you have a few that have integrated into the court, but I need more intel on Eris and his plans.” 
“Of course.” 
“You can take out any currently residing in Day. Just for the next week or so. With y/n going, she can report any happenings.” 
A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped. “Would that be wise?” 
Rhys stared back at his brother, expression giving nothing away. “Why wouldn’t it be? Do you not trust y/n’s word?” 
Azriel’s wings were taut against his back. In truth, he hadn’t felt relaxed in days. With you leaving, that tension would surely pull him into thin compliance. 
“Obviously I trust her word, Rhysand.” 
“Rhysand? What have I done to earn your grievance?” the High Lord asked, crossing his arms over his chest, still the perfect picture of calm. 
Azriel was a juxtaposition before him as he clenched his hands and replied, “You already know.” 
“Do I know? I’m not sure you’ve been clear or honest with anyone. Y/n especially.” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
Rhys bent at the elbow and rubbed a restless hand across his jaw. Azriel ignored the movement in favor of holding eye contact with the High Lord. Azriel was being stubborn, he knew that, but there was no other way to be. 
He needed to be consistent and reliable. He needed to be a pillar for his family to lean on, and you were part of that. He wasn’t going to take that away from you—to be selfish and call upon a mating bond you hadn't even been made aware of yet. 
He wasn’t going to squander your friendship in the hopes of something more. 
There was a chance, no matter how much the prospect pained him to consider, that you wouldn’t want the bond. You had never hinted at wanting more with the spymaster, so there was no telling how you might react to the cauldron blessing you with a union. You could reject it, and with it would go your friendship. 
Just the thought sent ice through Azriel’s veins. 
Truth be told, he had never shown you many signs either. When the bond snapped months ago, it had taken time for Azriel to come to terms with the truth. He had ruminated on it amidst many sleepless nights, watched you from a new perspective over many dinners, and contemplated the path that had led him to you. 
And then he had regretted. Cauldron had he regretted. 
The feeling still lingered, a reminder of each woman he had taken to his bed before you. All of the fae that had meant nothing, and even the ones that had boarded on something, he wished he could do away with.
Because you had been privy to them all. He knew you had witnessed a few late-night trysts, and even worse, that you had watched him pine after Mor for a century. It all seemed so frivolous now; it all paled in comparison to you. 
And the absolute worst part of it all is that he knew. 
He knew how easy it would be to fall in love with you from the start, so he pretended not to notice. 
He threw himself into impractical longing and meaningless lovers and he pretended that it didn’t hurt to look at you. 
The bond had only cemented his foolishness. 
He hardly had a chance with you by the time it snapped. 
“Late night then, Az?” 
You had teased him over breakfast just days before the bond had snapped for him, a small smile on your face as you lounged at the table early in the morning. At the time, Azriel had bit the inside of his cheek and reeled in his snarkiness. He had avoided your gaze, avoided the robe that barely covered your nightgown, and made himself toast in silence. He had already coaxed the blonde fae out of his bed, and he hadn’t needed a reminder of the woman he had been imagining all throughout the night. 
Because that had been something else he opted to ignore—that he pictured you, imagined you, at all times. 
It snapped three days later. He had been accompanying you through Velaris. “Shopping for fun,” you had said, “and I hate to go alone.”
The only thing Azriel had taken home that day was a gaping hole in his chest and the knowledge that lying to himself had brought him nothing but pain. 
The months following were different. 
Everything was different. 
But for you, he had come to the grim realization, nothing was different at all. He was still Azriel, your friend Azriel, who was secretive and private and cared from afar. You still pictured him as a man who chose his lovers based on convenience and quick practicality even though he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since your emotions began flowing through his chest. 
Gods, your emotions. They were so positive, so addicting, he could sit back and live his days through you until the end of time. You had so much unrestricted joy coursing through you—so much curiosity and delight. Part of Azriel dreaded the day you did recognize the bond; it would dim the connection to you.
That day in the library had been the first time the bond had chafed against his lungs. He had felt the earthquake beneath his feet and thought nothing of it, but then your fear punctured his being and he had run so fast his wings ached. 
And then you started having nightmares, ones he couldn’t fix, and Azriel began to feel like he was losing you. Like the bond was withering and eroding within him and you along with it. 
“How long, Azriel?” Rhys’s voice cut through the air with a harshness. 
The shadowsinger breathed through his nose, jaw tight. 
“Tell me. Tell me how long you’re going to keep this up for.” 
“You don’t understand, Rhys,” came Azriel’s low reply. “None of you do.” 
The High Lord scoffed. “Right, because I had it so easy with Feyre. Az, mates are complicated—” 
“Don’t,” Azriel breathed. A dangerous shakiness accompanied the word.
“Explain it to me. Help me to understand how—” 
“There was nothing for you to lose!” The rise of the shadowsinger’s voice sent Rhys into silence. “There was nothing! You hadn’t known Feyre for three centuries—hadn’t known what it was like to see her cry over worthless males or laugh until she was doubled over. You didn’t have time to memorize the sound of her voice or understand how it felt to lose that small piece of her. Because she won’t even talk to me anymore and—” 
Azriel cut himself off, moving for the first time since he entered office. He paced, the motion of his feet doing little to dispel the tension from the air or from his body. Azriel tugged a hand through his hair, his shadows following the aggressive pull and weaving through the strands. 
“How long?” Rhys asked again, but this time, Azriel knew that he was asking a different question. One that even he himself had avoided answering. 
The shadowsinger paused. His next words were tainted and his voice cracked. 
“I think forever.”
Part 4
3K notes ¡ View notes
izbelross ¡ 2 months
Text
Of Oblivious Minds (2)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst!! More pining and yearning
a/n: Here is part two! I love writing this little series :) There will definitely be more! let me know what you think ♡♡
Part 1, Part 3
~~
Sometimes you hated being a scholar. 
There were plenty of upsides to having such a cushy job, especially when your employer was the high lord himself. You got paid generously, got free access to the best libraries, and never had to pay rent. Millions of fae would kill to have your position. 
But as Cassian punched you in the ribs—for the third time—you found yourself questioning your role within the night court’s inner circle.
“Okay,” you breathed out, hunching over with a hand cradling your side. “Okay, please, Cass. Can we take a break?” 
Unfortunately, Cassian didn’t appreciate quitters. So, your feet were abruptly swept from under you and your back made contact with the floor. With a soft oof, the wind was knocked from your lungs. 
“C’mon, y/n, you’re better than that. I know you are.” 
You responded with a wheeze, blinking into the pale sun. 
This morning had been rough.
You’d been having some trouble sleeping, but that wasn’t necessarily unusual. Being alive for so long meant you had seen quite a few things, so nightmares came and went with the tide. You were going through a rough patch with them at the moment, and the lack of sleep was starting to catch up with you.
“You planning on laying there for the rest of the day?” Cassian asked, his large silhouette coming to block the light. 
You squinted up at him. “Maybe.” 
“Yeah, not happening.” 
You fought back a whine as the Illyrian pulled you up by your shoulders and steadied you. He nodded, giving you a moment to ready yourself back into position, and then bent his knees. Gods, you were going to be so sore later. 
It didn’t take long for you to end up on the floor again, this time on your stomach. Your chin cracked against the padded ring, your teeth snapping together at the impact. The sound made your brain vibrate as you rolled onto your side and held your temple. 
Cassian crouched down to the floor beside you and you could make out his worried brow amidst the shakiness of your vision. 
“What’s going on with you?” He brought his hand up to brush against your already bruising jaw. “We’ve been working on that move for weeks. You had it a few days ago.” 
You breathed through your nose and tried not to groan at the ache rolling through your body. “I think I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping very well.” 
At that, Cassian plopped down to a seat, keeping a hand at your elbow as you brought your own body up to mirror his. 
“You want to talk about it?” he questioned. 
“There isn’t much to say. I can’t remember them this time. It’s kind of strange—usually I remember them too much and that’s what makes it worse.” 
Cassian hummed in contemplation. He was always the one you went to the morning after a sleepless night. Cassian would listen as you talked through your nightmares, and you would do the same for him. He was a logical pillar in your life. 
But it was always Azriel you went to in the midst of them. You never talked about what you saw and he never asked. But it was always Azriel in the middle of the night. His shadows were a comfort in the pitch black and he was always quick to wrap his wings around you when it became too hard to breathe. 
You hadn’t gone to him these last few times.
The fact that you couldn’t remember your dreams was an unfortunate factor. Because if you knew what was causing you to wake up in a cold sweat every night, at least then you could talk about it. Or take a moment to rationalize. 
There was no rationalizing when the only thing you had to go off of was fear and hurt. 
“What does Azriel think?” Cassian asked after a small lapse in silence.
“What do you mean?” 
“Well, when you go to his room at night. What does he have to say about you not remembering?” 
You scoffed. And then scoffed again. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about, I barely do that.” 
Cassian stared at you with a blank expression. “So we’re still doing that then. Got it.” He heaved himself up from the ground and then yanked you up alongside him.
“Still doing what?” you asked, trailing behind him as he reached for his canteen. He didn’t answer you, favoring the long gulps of water he was taking. You waited for him to finish and then asked again. He chose to unwrap his knuckles instead. “Cassian.” 
The man sighed. “Nothing, y/n. It’s just… It wasn’t a secret that you would go to his room after you had a rough night. Why do you think I never dragged you out here those mornings?” You cringed at his words. He shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Why do you hide it?” 
You didn’t have a good reason—well, you didn’t used to. You’d always sneak out of his room after the sun rose and never bring it up again. And there was never a solid explanation for why you evaded the topic. You knew Azriel would never hold it against you and you weren’t embarrassed for others to know that you sought out comfort in a friend. It just seemed like something you should keep to yourself. 
Now, though—now there was a good reason to wipe your actions from memory. To pretend they never happened and to never repeat them. 
“Cassian, Elain is my friend. Even if I did that in the past—in a friendly way—it would be wrong now.” 
A muscle in Cassian’s jaw twitched. “Right. Have you ever actually talked to Elain about her feelings?” 
“I don’t need to.” You reached down for your own water, ignoring the twinge in your side and the pulsing in your head. “She never stops talking about him. And they’re always together. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already seeing each other.” 
“Who’s seeing each other?” 
The cool tone of Azriel’s voice washed over you and you whipped around to find him standing at the foot of the training ring, blades in hand. 
A nervous laugh fell from your lips and you fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. “Um, no one, just some friends I know.” 
“Who?” he asked again. 
“Oh, you don’t know them. Old friends.” 
The Shadowsinger raised a brow, sending Cassian a fleeting look. “I thought I knew all of your friends.” 
“You don’t. I know way more people than you. Even though you're older than me. Not by that much, though. Have you talked to Elain lately?” Words were spewing from your mouth in the worst combinations. You were never nervous around Azriel. What in the cauldron was wrong with you?
Azriel’s raised brow turned into a furrowed one and he blinked, assessing your face with a scrutinizing gaze. “Do you have a concussion?” He turned the Cassian, expression going from confused to provoked. “Did you give her a concussion?” 
“Honestly, maybe.” 
“I don’t have a concussion,” you rushed out, cutting off Cassian’s admission. “I was just leaving though. I’m tired. You guys can fight each other.” 
There was so much sudden pent-up energy inside of you that you had no intention of sleeping, but just seeing Azriel made you feel like you were intruding on something. Which was absurd. Azriel was your friend and had been your friend for centuries. Just because he loved Elain didn’t mean you had to avoid him. 
But this energy had to come from somewhere, and that somewhere was telling you to avoid him like the Illyrian flu. 
Making a break for it, you freed yourself from the training ring and attempted to skate past Azriel with a quick side smile, but he apparently had other plans. He caught your wrist as you walked past, glancing up at a “preoccupied” Cassian before turning to you with his wing out, giving the illusion of a private conversation. 
“You’re not sleeping well?” he asked, voice low. 
You warped your smile into one that met both sides of your mouth. “I’m okay.” 
Shadows crept over his shoulders and along his ears. His expression shifted and pinched and then returned neutral. “You know you can come to me if you need it.” 
“I’m okay, Az. Really.” 
“Would you tell me if you weren’t?”
Maybe before. 
“I’m a paper pusher, Az. I’m not out in the throes of battle,” you jested, scrunching your nose as you smiled up at him. “Nothing is that serious for me.” 
A lie. Something was that serious—serious enough to keep you up at night for the past week—but you couldn’t figure out what it was. 
“That is not what I asked,” he countered, sliding his hand up from your wrist to turn your chin. “You need to ice your jaw. Cassian shouldn’t be so rough with you.” 
“I’m okay,” you said again, words a pathetic repetition because your heart was beating so fast now and you needed to leave. Something was pulling at your chest and you needed to leave. 
“As you’ve said,” Azriel muttered, his fingers brushing down along the column of your throat. When his eyes flickered up and met your own, something inside of you lost its alignment.
You looked away before the feeling could return. Everything righted itself. You took a wobbly step back. 
“Have a good training session.” 
You turned on your heel and stalked away, feeling equal parts the betrayer and the betrayed. 
~~
“You mean that girl off-continent? The one from a century ago?” 
Cassian hummed. “Yeah, her. What I wouldn’t give for a visit from her.” 
“You’re a pig,” Mor replied, a scoff sharp on her lips.
“She didn’t think so.” 
You were eavesdropping. You didn’t like to, but somehow, in the time you’d spent in the inner circle, you’d picked up the habit. Oops.
Technically, you weren’t really eavesdropping. You had been in the room first. It wasn’t your fault Cassian and Mor decided to speak very loudly with only a few shelves separating you. If they wanted privacy they should have checked the area. 
“Is it that hard for you to get laid? You have to search off-continent?” 
Cassian’s responding laugh was almost defensive. “I’m sure you’d love to know about my sex life.” 
“I really wouldn’t, actually. You brought it up.” Mor paused. You heard her shift on the lounge chair. “I am, however, interested in Azriel’s.” 
“Aren’t we all,” Cassian droned. “Pretty obvious that he doesn't have one at the moment. Hasn’t had one in a while.” 
You felt your neck jolt at the reveal of that information. Azriel always kept his partners discrete, but you’d always known he’d had them. Many of them. You had no idea who they were or where he met them, but you would hear the girls occasionally... smell their perfume on a few rare nights. 
“You think? This whole time?” Mor asked, curiosity raising her voice an octave. 
“Mor, I think the sight of other females makes him want to vomit.” 
The book in your lap was all but obsolete. 
“Don’t be so dramatic.” 
Cassian tsked. “I’m not. He’s told me.” 
“I suppose that’s what having a mate does to a person.” 
Your fingers became abnormally cold, the center of your chest caving slightly.
Azriel had a mate? No, he would have told you.
He would have told you. 
Mor’s sweet voice slammed against your ears, harsh despite its nature. “Do you think he’ll tell her soon?” 
Cassian’s reply had you standing on shaking knees. “Hope so. He’s so in love with her it's suffocating. You should see when—” 
You were out of the room in a wisp, sliding out the small back door. The book you’d been reading was still clutched in your frozen grip and you held it against your chest as breathing became impossible. With a hand pressed to the wall and your head hung low, you sucked in air, greedy for some type of reprieve. 
You were happy for him. You were so, so happy for him. 
Right? 
The book fell from your grip, clattering to the floor. The pages collapsed in on themselves as it fell face down, and you listened to the paper crumple as your throat closed. Both hands now pressed to the cold wall. Why were you freezing? 
This made sense. It made sense. 
Of course Azriel had a mate and of course it was… Elain? 
No, it couldn’t be Elain. Elain was Lucien’s mate. 
Now you were confused as well as consumed. Your body was left aching from training and your mind was in a frenzy and you couldn’t even understand why you were reacting the way you were. 
It was completely plausible that Azriel had a mate and didn’t tell anyone about it. He was a private male who kept his lovers to himself, so of course he would keep his mate to himself as well. But he did tell someone about it. He told Cassian. And Mor knew. 
Your fingernails dug into stone.
Azriel didn’t love you. 
The thought came on so suddenly that you almost looked over your shoulder. It was as if the words had been whispered in your ear by some cruel, vicious wind. 
You had never cared if Azriel loved you before, because you knew that he did love you. Like a sister. You were Azriel’s family and he was yours. 
But as the thought of Azriel having a mate invaded your mind once more, your shaky legs propelled you forward, running from the creased book and the hallway that contained all of the worst things. 
You ran until you couldn't, until your toes hit the edge of the balcony on the far side of the house and the cool air of winter hit your cheeks. You had been so cold inside, but somehow the breeze felt even colder across your skin. 
“Y/n?” 
You gasped, whipping around and gripping the railing as it pressed into your spine. You couldn’t formulate words as Azriel stood before you. His hands raised up to his waist, reaching for you as he took in the way your chest heaved.
“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” he rushed. 
You only shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Embarrassment and confusion and a twisted sort of fear coursed through you. You couldn't look at him, afraid you would somehow see the bond connected to his chest—somehow notice things about him you hadn’t before. Maybe another shade of hazel in his eyes or a softness to his lips that you had never looked for. 
As you considered it now, it was obvious that you’d never let yourself look. 
Azriel was never supposed to be yours. 
“Talk to me, angel.” Azriel’s sweet whisper brushed against your skin. He was so close to you. You could feel him, but you refused to look. 
To see how everything had changed. 
“Let me fix it.” 
You heard the rush of wind from his wings as he expanded them outwards, followed closely behind by the whirling of his shadows, and it all clicked then. 
The images came quickly, dissipating just as fast. But they did their job, sending heavy, hot tears past the tight scrunch of your eyelids. 
Azriel with Elain. Azriel with Mor. Azriel with random, faceless women.
Him, in every iteration, with everyone that wasn’t you. 
That’s what had kept you up—the dreams plaguing your every resting moment. And you realized then that nothing had really changed at all. That you’d been in love with Azriel for longer than you’d been in love with anything. 
Your jaw trembled, your body rejecting the anguish that swept through you. Wind softly flowed from the west, swaying your skirts with a gentleness that made your breath shudder. That kind of gentleness was impossible. The world felt so cruel. 
“Y/n, tell me what happened. Should I get someone else?” Azriel pleaded. “Should I get Rhys?” 
Rhys could knock you out, and that would surely be a relief. You felt paralyzed by this overwhelming array of devastation. But Rhys would also have access to your thoughts. 
You shook your head. “No,” you said, but the word was lost in the wind. Azriel seemed to hear it anyway. “No, I want—I need to—go to sleep.” 
“You need to go to sleep?” He touched you now, something he seemed to have been avoiding. His hands came to rest behind your neck, thumbs at your jaw, and you pried your eyes open at the contact. You’d never seen the shadowsinger look so ruined, his hair askew, his eyes wild and panicked. “That doesn’t make any sense.” 
His expression was beseeching you for something you couldn’t give him. You hiccuped your next words out. 
“I’m—’m tired.” 
You wished you’d stayed oblivious. That you had never become privy to the depth of your feelings. 
This pain was immeasurable.
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izbelross ¡ 2 months
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Of Oblivious Minds
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Pining, yearning, idiots in love?? (an angsty moment as well)
a/n: What am I doing!! I don't know!! This is part one and there will be one or two more parts :) Thank you for reading ily ♡
Part 2
~~
You were having an epiphany—of that you were certain. 
Sitting in the main room of the townhouse, a glass of wine spinning in your hand, many things were beginning to make sense to you. It was ridiculous that you hadn’t come to this realization before. All of the hints were right in front of you. 
You leaned back in the armchair, a scrutinizing gaze pointed toward the corner of the room. You took a sip of your wine—a contemplative sip—and then ran through the facts in your head. Yes, it made perfect sense. 
You wanted to kick yourself for not noticing before. 
“Don’t hurt yourself thinking so hard.” Cassian’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. You blinked up at him as he took a seat on the arm of your chair. “Want to share why you’re staring a hole into the wall?” 
“I was just… noticing something,” you murmured over the rim of your glass, voice low. 
“And what’s that?” 
You paused, pursing your lips. It would sound silly if you were wrong. But Cassian looked at you expectantly, so you simply whispered, “I think Az is in love with Elain.” 
The sudden, rumbling laugh bouncing off the walls set your cheeks ablaze. The entire room halted their conversations to look at Cassian as he doubled over, holding his stomach with no signs of letting up. You stared up at him, mortified, and smacked his arm as his laughs lowered into senseless chuckles. 
“Cassian, quit it. It’s not that funny—stop it or I’ll hit you again.” 
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” he laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Sorry, that was just… that was a good one, y/n.” 
“What’d she say?” Rhys asked, perking up from the other side of the fireplace. 
“Nothing to warrant that reaction,” you grumbled, sinking lower into your seat. 
Fighting back the vibrations in his chest, Cassian took a deep breath. “Inside joke, Rhys. You wouldn’t get it.” 
Rhys huffed out an offended breath, quirking a brow at his antics. He looked to Mor and Feyre to garner some support, but they only giggled back at him. 
“Maybe we would.” 
Azriel’s gravelly tone only made you collapse further into the armchair. If you’d known there would be consequences to sharing your epiphany with Cassian, you would have kept your mouth shut. Cassian was usually wonderful at keeping secrets. 
“Oh, brother, you’d find it funny as well, surely,” Cassian shared, heaving up from the chair. “But, alas, I have to go. No inside jokes for the room.” 
“Well that’s not fair. You don’t get to cause a riot and then leave,” Mor whined, her cheeks rosy and her eyes glassy. Clearly, she had been having her own drinks throughout the night. 
“Lovely. Now you want to know? Where was that attitude while you were giggling with my mate?” Rhys accused. 
Feyre jumped in this time, pinching the high lord’s cheek and cooing, “Oh, you big Illyrian baby.” 
The focus was no longer on you and your apparently laughable realization. Cassian’s reaction did little to deter you from the thought, however, and you were still quite resolute in your observations. Looking over at the couple in question only solidified that. 
They were huddled close, Elain’s knees pressed against Azriel’s thigh as they spoke in low tones. Azriel would occasionally take a glance around the room, lingering on you as he went, but that was natural for the shadowsinger. His shadows were gone, where they went you had no idea, and his wings were held tightly behind his back. 
And he stared at her—intently—as she nodded her head and answered whatever it was he had asked. 
He had to be in love with her. 
You were usually quite good at reading these types of things. 
“I’m taking you home now,” Cassian spoke, holding out his hand. “We’ll walk.” 
“What if I don’t want to go home?” you asked, taking his hand and following him despite your words. 
“After all that nonsense, I think it’s clear you need a good night’s rest. Plus, you and I are in the ring bright and early tomorrow morning.” 
You groaned, knocking your head back at the reminder of your obligations. It always sounded like such a good idea over breakfast. Cassian had clearly learned that you would only say yes to early morning trainings when you were half-asleep. 
“Yeah, yeah, let’s go, sweetheart.” 
You let him yank you to the door, your feet dragging behind you, when a warmth encased your shoulders. You recognized the material of your coat instantly and turned to see Azriel smoothing it down over your arms. 
“For your walk,” Azriel quietly explained. “You left it on the back of my chair.” 
“Oh!” you chirped, feeling the early licks of embarrassment barrage your chest. It’s not like he heard you talking about him, right? “Thanks, Az. I almost forgot.” 
He offered you one of his soft, rare smiles. “I know. I remembered.” 
He nodded over your head to Cassian after that, and you heard Cassian’s low, I got her, Az, only because you strained your ears. 
You ended up being extremely grateful for Azriel’s forethought to grab your jacket. It was freezing outside. You could have winnowed home instead, but Cassian hadn’t really given you the option and no one ever let you winnow after you’d had something to drink. 
You landed in Summer Court one time and suddenly everyone treated you like a hazard. 
Your shoes scuffed against dark cobblestone as you walked. It was really dark, now that you looked at it. Maybe it had rained? Or a merchant had dumped their excess water? 
Or maybe it was nighttime and you were a little drunk. 
It was then that you noticed the silence. When Cassian walked you home, especially when Cassian was tipsy and he walked you home, he never shut up. So this was unusual. You squinted as you looked up at him, but he gave nothing away, keeping his gaze forward and his steps in steady pace with your own. 
“Okay, out with it,” you accused, crossing your arms over your chest. “What was so funny earlier? And why are you walking me home all stoic?” 
“I’m always stoic. Adds to my charm.” 
“Liar.” 
Cassian smirked, shaking his head, and then schooled his expression into one that was a touch more serious. “You really think Az likes Elain?” 
You watched your breath puff out white. “Don’t you?” 
“No, I don’t.” 
You shot him a skeptical glance. “Well, then you’re wrong. I’m good at picking these things out. I knew Feyre was Rhys’s made before the rest of you figured it out, didn’t I?”
“It was pretty obvious, y/n,” Cassian scoffed. He took a fleeting glance down to the ground beneath your feet. “Honestly, I’d wager that you’re actually the worst at picking these things out.”  
You gaped at him, bringing your coat closer to your body in a ploy to protect your damaged pride. Cassian only shook his head—again—and then flung an arm over your shoulder. 
“Don’t take that the wrong way. Just…take a second look, maybe.” 
“A second look at what? She was practically sitting in his lap tonight.” 
“If you say so,” Cassian hummed. 
“Stop being cryptic and buy me a snack on the way.” 
~~
The following days were… strange to say the least. 
Everywhere you went, Elain of all people was sure to follow.
And she spoke of Azriel. A lot. 
Azriel did this and Az is so sweet isn’t he and oh, did I mention that…
Obviously, she was just as in love with Azriel as he was with her. 
You were so, so right. 
There was something off-putting about that truth, but you couldn’t put your finger on why. After a few days of hearing the younger girl rave about the shadowsinger, you chalked it up to the novelty of it all. You had known Azriel for over a century, and things were changing. Of course a serious love interest in his life would make you feel strange. 
Azriel had had lovers in the past, but—now that you thought about it—you hadn’t heard him talk about another woman in months, much less seen him with one. 
Well, other than Elain. 
Perhaps it wasn’t healthy, nor productive, to be so caught up in Azriel’s love life. He was plenty capable of managing it on his own, and it’s not like you had that much of an interest, anyway. 
You blinked, shaking your head and attempting to focus back in on the book you were reading. Elain had followed you into the library under the house, but thanks to the priestesses and their admonishing looks, she kept quiet. She flipped through her own book as you continued your research assignment from Rhys. It wasn’t very interesting, which was clearly the most plausible explanation for your mind drifting to Azriel. 
Boring texts were the leading cause of nosiness.
“Do you have dinner plans?” Elain whispered after an hour of silence. 
You sent her a small smile, looking up from the archaic book. “No, are you inviting me out?” 
“Perhaps. I was thinking of asking Azriel.” 
A suffocating sort of pressure clawed at your skin. “Oh?” 
That was new. 
“Yes, but I would really appreciate it if you came,” Elain continued, eyes downcast. “It could be fun.” 
You bit into your bottom lip until the pain was uncomfortable. This was no different than her talking about Azriel all week. And you already figured that they liked each other—that they loved each other. You had relished in the discovery just a few nights ago. 
So why did it suddenly feel so different?
“I wouldn't want to intrude,” you whispered. “I think a dinner with just the two of you would be nice. Azriel would surely agree.” 
Elain shook her head. “I think he would be more inclined if he knew you were coming.” 
As a buffer. She was asking you to come to displace any awkwardness that would arise on a first date. You had done it before for Cassian. You’d done it plenty of times for Mor—even making it a double date with random men you never spoke to again. But you’d never done it for Azriel. 
Something about it felt… wrong. 
“I could come,” you found yourself saying anyway, words tumbling out before you could catch them. “But I really do think he would love a dinner alone. I might be a bit of an outlier.” 
Elain gave the closest thing to a smirk you’d seen on her face. “I somehow doubt that.” 
“What does that—” 
The ground was shaking. The faelights began violently flickering and the ground began shaking with even more vigor. You pressed down on the book in front of you and braced yourself as the air grew frenzied. The priestesses ran down the many stairs of the library as panic began setting into your bones. The last time something like this happened… 
You shuddered at the thought. 
This couldn't be an attack on Velaris. 
Elain called your name. You answered with wide eyes. 
“Get under the tables!”
You both dove beneath your table at the call, clutching at the legs with shaking hands. There was a commotion as books fell from shelves and lights popped, but there were no screams. No one was hurt. There was no attack. 
Realization coursed through you, but it did little to quell your fear as the shaking continued. 
“It’s an earthquake!” you shouted to Elain. “It’s okay, we’re going to be fine!” 
Velaris hadn’t been struck by an earthquake of this magnitude in many, many years. The last one was centuries ago, and it had led to many rebuilding efforts and a handful of injuries. You hoped this wasn’t on the same scale. Or at least that Rhys’ magic was enough to abate the worst of the damages. 
After another moment, the shaking ceased. You let the panic and adrenaline run its course as you caught your breath, Elain right beside you. It didn’t seem so bad now that it was over and the building had stayed intact. With a hand at your chest, you shook your head in disbelief. 
“By the cauldron, that was unexpected.” 
Elain let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt an earthquake before.” 
You offered your own breathy laugh as you both got to your feet. “Well, you have plenty of time to get The Mother scared out of you and experience another.” 
She opened her mouth to reply but was abruptly cut off as shadows materialized. Heavy footsteps rushed up stairs and it was only another beat before Azriel was upon you. Scarred hands cradled your face, turning it back and forth as hazel eyes took in every inch of your skin. Light became sparse as wings flared out behind him, shielding you from nothing.
“Are you hurt?” he demanded, voice still low despite the urgency. “Were you covered?” 
“Azriel? What are you—How did you know we were down here?” 
“Are you hurt?” 
You attempted to reconcile the chaotic present with the very calm, very expected past. Sitting in the library with a boring relic in front of you and a new reading partner compared to an earthquake and a frazzled shadowsinger clutching at your face. 
Gripping his wrists, you answered him with a slow and confused, “I’m fine.” 
He closed his eyes as he let out a long breath. “Good…. good.” 
When he released your face, he ran his hands along your hair. And then your shoulders and your arms. It wasn’t until he had touched most of you that he took a step back and ran a hand through his own hair. It was then that he seemed to remember Elain. 
“And are you alright?” he asked, far more composed than he had been a moment ago. 
“A bit overwhelmed, but I am fine as well,” she sighed out. 
Azriel didn’t touch her as he nodded in relief. 
“Was it as bad as the last one? Is everyone okay?” you cut in. 
Azriel, who had gone back to unnecessarily looking you over, furrowed his brows. “What?” 
You mirrored his expression. “The earthquake. Do you remember the last one? Was this one that bad?” 
“Oh. No. Not as bad.” 
“And how is everyone else?” 
“I’m not sure.” 
Azriel was typically short with his answers, but right now he was being particularly short. And he was never one to not have information. Ever. 
“Are you okay?” you asked instead. 
“I am now.”
You left the library wondering why Azriel had run to you and not Elain—why that moment felt so monumental in the face of all others. 
Maybe being right wasn’t what you wanted anymore. 
But maybe that wasn’t your decision to make. 
3K notes ¡ View notes
izbelross ¡ 2 months
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and then we grew up.
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summary: frankie morales was your best friend, but he disappeared from your life without an explanation. years later, he finds you in a bar after your life falls part. is it too late for the two of you to patch things up?
rating: E [warnings: HEAVY angst at the beginning but then smut bc reasons, katee uses the drunk in a bar trope again; PIV, oral sex fem receiving, praise kink, top!frankie requires his own warning]
pairing: frankie x fem!reader
word count: ~5200
note: written FOR and dedicated TO @pedro-pastel​ bc she needed some frankie this week. also originally started approximately 3 months ago as a prompt from @danniburgh​ and then it turned into a monster, so now everyone can enjoy. shout out to writing wife @starlightmornings​ for the beta and encouragement, and to the pocket bitch wives for putting up with me dropping smut into the group chat with zero warning thx babes enjoy~
masterlist
~~~
You’d been friends with Frankie Morales since just before the fifth grade. He moved in across the street with his family one summer afternoon, and the two of you were inseparable. 
You’d been tragically in love with Frankie since the ninth grade. Puberty arrived and suddenly little Frankie was tall and lean and muscular, a newly chiseled jawline, and curly brown locks that all the other girls went crazy over. 
The new attention took him by surprise, and he reveled in it. You could hardly fault him. He seemed happy. He didn’t know about your feelings, of course. And how could he? Your painful shyness kept your tongue paralyzed any time you gathered the courage to say something. 
Seguir leyendo
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izbelross ¡ 2 months
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gif by @joelscruff
Like. Y’all get it right? Y’all get why I’m in tears over this right?
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izbelross ¡ 2 months
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The Miscalculated Whittled Elk [Legolas X Reader]
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A.N: So I’ve been having terrible writers block and you guys were totally right: I needed to change my scenery and switch up my topic. Hence why I decided to take a mini break from my fanfic and write this Drabble/Imagine/One Shot or whatever you want to call it.
Request: @queenofmankind​ - hi there! Can I request a Legolas X Fem Elf Reader where she’s in love with him and does something to initiate a courting between them but Legolas turned her down because he thought he was in love with Tauriel just to find out that it’s actually the reader he’s in love with? but she already left Greenwood because of heartbreak & may be planning to sail to the undying lands? Thank you!
Paring: Legolas X Fem Elf Reader
Summary: (Y/N) confesses her love to Legolas after BOTFA but his emotions and mind is clouded by recent events. Happy Ending :)
Word Count: 1,456
Warnings: rejection, fluff, cuteness 
MASTERLIST
It was almost dusk; the sun was setting and the colors of the sky peaked through the leaves of the forest of Greenwood. The pink, orange, and purple ethereal light reflected off the water droplets that had collected among the branches from the day’s rain.
Seguir leyendo
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izbelross ¡ 2 months
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ATTENTION ARTISTS OF TUMBLR
since tumblr is going to start scraping blogs to train ai be sure to glaze and nightshade your art!! Not only will both of these programs protect your art from being copied but nightshade also poisons any ai that tries to steal it
here is some more info on these tools and where you can download them:
Nightshade: Protecting Copyright (uchicago.edu)
Nightshade: Downloads (uchicago.edu)
Glaze - What is Glaze (uchicago.edu)
Glaze - Downloads (uchicago.edu)
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izbelross ¡ 2 months
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I'm so tired of people telling those of us who are upset about the LA atla remake that we are "being too dramatic" or are just "finding things to be upset about". We are allowed to be upset that something that we love so dearly has been butchered, AGAIN. If you liked it, then that's your personal opinion, but don't sit here and tell those of us who didn't that we're the problem.
I personally think the CGI, costumes, and sets all look terrible. None of it is immersive. Sure, it LOOKS like atla, but it doesn't FEEL like atla. The heart of the og is gone, and people are allowed to be upset about this. They've altered characters to the point that they aren't the character anymore (looking at you Aang and Katara), which is a huge upset for me personally because Katara is one of my favorite characters ever. So watching her be turned into someone meek and docile is more than a slap to the face. Not to mention them removing her as the narrator as if Bryke themselves didn't state that Katara is the person the story is being told through. And before you start telling me that Aang is the same. No, he isn't. Major parts of his development through season 1 (him coming to terms with the fact that he's the avatar and embracing that role, and him also accepting the fact that he RAN AWAY and how he is never going to do that again, which is also pivotal to his character later on) are completely removed. And don't even get me started on what they did to Kataang. Regardless of whether you ship them or not, those 2 are deeply connected to one another from the start, and their relationship is a big part of the show, so to see that butchered is heartbreaking for me.
This isn't just about them "making some changes" or it not being a 1:1 adaptation. I'm fine with adaptations that aren't 1:1. What I'm upset about is that the changes they are making are VITAL changes to characters and dynamics between characters. They're rushing through the plot and condensing the story (and I will scream if I hear one more person say that it's because they couldn't fit it all in with their runtime. The runtime is an HOUR LONGER than the og, so yes, they did have the time). The changes they are making make it evident that they do not understand the og show, and if you don't feel like that, fine, once again, that's YOUR opinion, just as this is MY opinion. So stop telling us we have no right to be upset and that we just want to hate everything. That's not true. What is true is that we are expressing valid complaints about another bad adaptation of something dear to us.
Edit: If you also come at people who are upset bc they were expecting a faithful adaptation and didn't get it bc "its not supposed to be the cartoon," you're missing the whole point. An adaptation is ADAPTING SOMETHING from one medium to the other, not rewriting it. "Yall expected it to be just like the cartoon." No, I expected a FAITHFUL ADAPTATION and was met with poorly written fanfiction.
2K notes ¡ View notes
izbelross ¡ 2 months
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Strings That Bind Us | Part 2
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: insecure azriel.
Summary: Azriel and Y/N had never been happier, after getting to know one another the two are nearly inseparable. The Inner Circle noticed Azriel change in behaviour and want to find out why.
A/N: I am hopefully going to get around to writing a third part to wrap this story up :)
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
•••
Y/N was woken up by the sun shining in her eyes from the gap in her curtains. Groaning, Y/N sat up in her bed, she didn’t recall falling asleep in her bed. The final memory she had was of talking to Azriel on the couch. Y/N was still dressed in the same clothes she wore the previous day. As she swung her feet onto the floor, Y/N shivered from the morning coolness and began to get ready for the day ahead. 
When Y/N shrugged on a jumper, there was a small crash from her kitchen which made her come rushing out of her bedroom. What she saw didn’t really surprise her in the slightest. Azriel stood in the middle of her kitchen while making food– or attempting to as the pan he was making the food in was now on the floor, food spilled out. 
Y/N only let out a quiet laugh alerting Azriel. 
“What are you doing?” Y/N asked, leaning against the doorframe, a teasing grin on her face.
Azriel looked down at the food now covering the floor. “I was attempting to make you breakfast. I knocked the pan over with my wings.”
Y/N slowly approached Azriel as she bent down to clean up the mess. “My kitchen isn’t the most wing friendly.”
“I noticed,” Azriel commented, placing the pan on the counter. 
Y/N bent down to help him but Azriel simply swatted her hands away, deeming it his mess to clean up. Obeying his command, Y/N stood back up before sitting herself on the kitchen countertop. 
“When did I fall asleep last night?” Y/N asked.
“I’m not sure,” Azriel said.”I was talking and when you didn’t reply, I looked over to find you asleep. I carried you to bed, I slept on the couch.”
Y/N flushed. “You didn’t need to move me, I fall asleep on the couch all the time and it surely couldn’t have been comfortable for you.”
“I’ve slept in worse places,” Azriel said standing up before throwing the ruined food in the bin. 
“You still didn’t need to move me,” Y/N said as Azriel came to stand in front of her, his hands resting on the countertop on either side of her body. 
They had been walking a very fine line between friends and something more ever since their first dinner. Y/N always found herself lacing her finger’s with Azriel’s, whether they were taking a stroll through the city or just lazing around on Y/N’s couch or in her bookstore. She found any excuse to touch him. Azriel on the other hand, along with the small touches he would always seek from her, he would always bring her flowers or chocolates whenever he would see her, which was nearly everyday. He enjoyed seeing the beautiful smile that was only reserved for him. 
“We could go out for breakfast?” Azriel suggested. “Since I ruined it.”
Y/N glided her hands up his arms, feeling his shadows brush against her as she did so. Azriel watched her movements, his hands moving to lightly caress her hips. Y/N finally stopped her hand's journey as one rested on his shoulder while the other rested on the nape of his neck. The grip Azriel had on Y/N’s hips tightened.
“Going out for breakfast sounds like a good idea,” Y/N mumbled, her head inching closer to his. 
Azriel’s heart beat rapidly as he stepped closer, situating herself between her open thighs more firmly. 
“Where do you want to go?” Azriel asked, his breath fanning her face as their lips were centimetres apart. 
Y/N’s eyes were fixed on his, where from up close she could see the smallest hints of green that were barely noticeable. She had always thought his eyes were beautiful and she could easily let herself get lost in their warmth. The warmth that was only reserved for her. Slowly her gaze trailed down his face to glance at his lips. She wondered how they would feel against her own. Would they be as soft as she imagined?
“I will go wherever you want,” said Y/N, tearing her gaze away from his lips only to find Azriel looking at her own. 
“I want…” Azriel began, leaning the smallest bit closer, his lips grazed her own. They were soft. “I want you.”
Azriel didn’t move from his position, waiting for Y/N to initiate anything. Y/N let out a small breath before pressing her lips against his, her eyes fluttering shut as her grip on his became tighter. 
Azriel’s body seemed to melt into hers as he wrapped his arms firmly around her. Y/N felt him pull her closer to him as his arms wrapped around her waist, securing her in place. The way Azriel held her made her feel safe and protected. One of his shadows caressed her cheek before tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 
There was a brief moment where Azriel began to pull away to simply admire the beautiful female in his arms but as soon as he removed his lips from hers, Y/N only attached her lips to his jaw, pressing small, gentle kisses across it. The gentleness of it wasn’t something Azriel was used to as he let out a small gasp, he only felt Y/N smile against his skin. 
Y/N trailed her kisses across his jaw, before wrapping her arms around his shoulder and clung onto him. Her head was buried in the crook of his neck while her arms wrapped over her shoulder. Azriel clung onto her just as tight, seemingly afraid that if he slackened his grip for only a second, she would slip away. 
There was a certain tenderness to the way the two touched one another, full of love and genuine care. Azriel wasn’t used to it but he craved more of it. He craved Y/N’s touch and he never wanted to let go. 
Y/N wrapped her legs around Azriel’s waist as if she were trying to pull him closer, she needed him closer. Azriel’s touch was gentle yet there was an underlying passion behind it, it was a type of touch she had never felt with anyone else before. And she never wanted to feel it with anyone else other than Azriel. 
“I want you, too,” Y/N mumbled into Azriel’s shoulder. 
There was a cord that seemed to snap and both Y/N and Azriel felt it in their chests. Azriel’s grip slackened while Y/N’s grip tightened. 
“Y/N,” Azriel said in disbelief. “Did you feel that too?”
Y/N nodded. “I did.”
Y/N pulled away and rested her forehead against Azriel’s, tears gleaming in his eyes. Y/N cupped his cheeks and forced him to look at her. “You are my mate.”
Azriel’s eyes scanned her face for any sign of uncertainty. “Are you…happy about that? About being my mate?”
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “Azriel, there is no one else I would want as my mate. I don’t think I can even put into words how happy I am. I might have only met you a few months ago but I have fallen in love with you.”
Azriel leaned into her touch. “You mean that?”
Y/N pressed a gentle kiss against his lips. “Of course I do. Even if we were not mates, my feelings for you have not changed. Others may perceive you differently but what I see in front of me is a kind, gentle, beautiful, thoughtful male.”
Azriel’s eyes fluttered closed. “You really love me?”
“How could I not?” Y/N questioned. “You have given me no reason for me not to.”
“Not even what I do? Who I am?” 
“I don’t care about that, Az,” said Y/N, bringing Azriel closer so his head rested in the crook of her neck. Her fingers ran through his hair, soothing him. “I couldn’t care less about what you do, it could never scare me away from you. I knew what you did even before I met you and it never scared me or put me off. It doesn’t define you at all. You are my mate, Az.”
Azriel let out a shuddering breath. “I have wanted a mate my whole life. Ever since my brothers found their mates, I thought that I would find mine but it has been years and there was no sign of a bond with anyone. I began to think I didn’t deserve it.”
“Of course you deserve it,” Y/N reassured him. 
“I am happy that it’s with you,” Azriel said and rested his forehead against Y/N’s once again. “I hoped that it would be you.”
Y/N smiled. “We are on the same page then.”
Azriel cracked a smile that brightened his whole face. “I love you.”
“Another thing that we are on the same page on,” Y/N mumbled against his lips.
“I don’t deserve you,” Azriel said.
“You deserve me,” Y/N said. “And everything you could ever want.”
���You are all I want,” Azriel muttered before pressing his lips firmly against Y/N’s. 
Y/N smiled into the kiss as she felt the bond between them tighten as love seemed to flow down it like a rapid waterfall filling her whole body. There was no other feeling like it and Y/N was elated to know that she would feel this way for her whole life with Azriel by her side. There is no one else she would want to share the feeling with. 
Y/N pulled away and threaded her fingers through Azriel’s hair. “Do you want to accept the bond?”
Azriel nodded eagerly and Y/N laughed. “Good, now leave.”
Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
Y/N smiled. “I am not offering you a random food item from my cupboards. I am going to make you a full meal.”
“You don’t need to,” Azriel said. “I am happy with anything.”
Y/N shook her head. “No, you deserve a full meal made with love.”
Azriel chuckled. “I am not changing your mind on this am I, sweetheart?”
Y/N’s heart melted at the nickname. “Unfortunately not. And as much as it pains me to literally kick you out, you deserve this.”
Y/N pushed Azriel back and slid from the countertop, still keeping her hands on Azriel’s shoulders. The look on Azriel’s face made Y/N’s heart swell. The lazy grin and the love in his eyes was an expression that she wished to see on the male more. It was as if he had no worries and was fully relaxed. 
“Come back later and I will have a full meal prepared,” said Y/N while taking a step back from Azriel.
Azriel only pulled her closer to him and pressed his lips against hers. He couldn’t get enough. Y/N kissed him back before pushing him away, although she only wanted to pull him closer and ever let go. Azriel let out a groan.
“We can do a lot more of that later,” Y/N whispered. “But right now, I want to focus on making you the best meal I possibly can.”
“I am happy with just a biscuit,” Azriel said.
Y/N shook her head, smiling playfully. “Come back later on.”
Azriel let out a huff but began to slowly walk out of the apartment. “I love you.”
Y/N smiled. “I love you too, now go.”
Azriel huffed out a laugh before leaving Y/N’s apartment.
***
“Does anyone know where Azriel is?” Cassian asked, walking into the room. “We were meant to train this morning.”
Both Rhys and Feyre shrugged and Cassian huffed as he situated himself down on the couch opposite the mated couple. Nyx was happily playing with his toys on the floor. 
“Has anyone else noticed that he hasn’t been around lately?” Cassian asked no one in particular. “He keeps skipping out on our training sessions.”
“He might have met someone,” Feyre suggested.
Cassian laughed. “I would know if he met someone.”
“Feyre is right,” Rhys agreed with his mate. “He has been happier lately. It looks good on him.”
Before Cassian had the chance to respond, Azriel walked into the room, his face neutral. All eyes turned to him, even Nyx’s who smiled at the sight of his uncle as shadows lightly caressed him. Nyx giggled in delight.
Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“Nothing,” Cassian said. “You just missed our training session again.”
Azriel sighed. “I was busy.”
“Doing what?” Cassian questioned.
“I feel like I’ve just walked into an interrogation,” Azriel muttered under his breath as he took a seat next to Cassian. “I was sorting through paperwork.”
“Where? You weren’t at the house of wind,” Cassian accused.
“At my own apartment,” Azriel answered casually. It wasn’t technically a lie because Y/N’s apartment did feel like a home to him.
“You have an apartment?” Cassian asked.
“I do,” Azriel said. “I have it so I don’t need to hear you and Nesta fucking every night.”
Cassian rolled his eyes. “Where is this apartment anyways?”
“Near the bookstore by the river,” Azriel answered. 
“Oh, is that the bookstore run by Y/N?” Feyre asked. “She stopped by the art studio a while ago and mentioned that she owned the bookstore by the river.”
Azriel felt his palms sweat. 
“Oh, Nesta goes to that bookstore all the time,” Cassian said. “She says that Y/N gives her some good suggestions.”
Now Azriel’s heart began to beat faster. 
Rhys looked over at him curious. It wasn’t like Azriel to lose his calm demeanour. Azriel felt a tap against his mental shields. The shadowsinger didn’t lower them, his only response to this was to spring up from the couch. 
“I forgot I have to finish some paperwork,” Azriel said and left the room without another word. 
Cassian looked at him leave, confusion evident on his face. “What’s wrong with him?”
Rhys smirked, as did Feyre, Rhys clearly already filled her in. “I believe that this Y/N you both mentioned might by Azriel’s mate.”
“Mate?” Cassian exclaimed.
“It makes perfect sense,” Feyre said, a soft smile on her face. “He disappears for days at a time and when he does show up there is a small hint of lavender perfume on him. He smiles more and talks more. Elain mentioned that he was questioning her about different types of flowers a few weeks ago.”
Cassian grinned. “So Az has a mate?” 
“It seems so,” Rhys said, visibly happy for his brother. 
“Should we invite her here?” Feyre asked.
“I suggest we give them time,” Rhys said. “When they accept the bond we won’t see Az for a while.”
Cassian chuckled but grinned. “I’m happy for him.”
“Me too,” Rhys said. “He deserves it.”
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izbelross ¡ 2 months
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"ai is making it so everyone can make art" Everyone can make art dipshit it came free with your fucking humanity
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izbelross ¡ 2 months
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the fact that “the vibes here are rancid” is a power that the jedi actually have is insane to me
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izbelross ¡ 2 months
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She’s a 10 but she lives off of academic validation while simultaneously procrastinating like she’s been promised immortality
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izbelross ¡ 3 months
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Y/N: *writing a note* Daryl, if you’re reading this-
Y/N: Wait… can Daryl even read?
Y/N: *crosses it out and starts to write again* Carl, if you’re reading this-
Y/N: Can Carl read?
Y/N: …
Y/N: Carol, if you’re reading-
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izbelross ¡ 4 months
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