We are introduced to wyrdmarks in Throne of Glass. We are given the descriptions of some wyrdmarks in the text, and can reference these descriptions with wyrdmark images we are given on the Erilea map and wyrdmarks seen in the Throne of Glass section of www.sarahjmaas.com.
Countless Wyrdmarks were etched into their surface. They were in swirls and whorls, in lines and squares. The small Wyrdmarks made up larger ones, and the larger ones made up even larger ones, until it seemed the entire room meant something she couldn’t possibly understand. -TOG CH25
So far, she hadn’t learned much: according to one book, Wyrdmarks were an alphabet. Though, according to this book, no grammar existed with the Wyrdmarks: everything was just symbols that one had to string together. And they changed meaning depending on the marks around them. They were painfully difficult to draw; they required precise lengths. -TOG CH27
“We keep them a secret because of the terrible power that they wield. Terrible, in that it can be used for good or evil—though most have used their power for wicked deeds. Since the moment I arrived here, I was aware that someone was using the Wyrdmarks to call forth demons from the Otherworlds—realms beyond our realm.” -TOG CH51
“But the king cannot erase old spells made with older powers—like the Wyrdmarks. Those ancient spells still hold; especially ones that imbue life.” -COM CH6
He’d used the Wyrdkeys to suppress magic, but he must have some way of harnessing the innate power in someone’s blood—and the Wyrdmarks must be able to access that power, too. -COM CH47
The music was a tapestry woven of light and dark and color, building delicate links in a chain that latched on to her heart and spread out into the world, binding her to it, connecting everything. She understood then. The Wyrdmarks were—were a way of harnessing those threads, of weaving and binding the essence of things. Magic could do the same, and from her power, from her imagination and will and core, she could create and shape. -HOF CH41
LEYLINES
We are introduced to the concept of leylines in Crescent City. The concept of “ley lines” appears to be taken from our own world and originated in the early 20th century and proposed that the alignments of ancient monuments, prehistoric sites, and prominent landmarks, were connected by invisible energy pathways, suggesting ancient civilisations intentionally built structures along these lines for various purposes.
Please note: Archaeologists and scientists regard ley lines as an example of pseudoarchaeology and pseudoscience.
LUNATHION LEYLINES
“Look: all of them took place within steps of one of the major avenues. On top of the ley lines—natural channels for the firstlight to travel through the city.” “Highways of power,” Hunt said, his eyes shining. “They flow right through the Gates.” -HOEAB CH37
The Gates had been used as communication devices in the past—but the only reason words could pass between them was the power that connected them. They all sat atop linked ley lines. A veritable matrix of energy. The Gate wasn’t just a prism. It was a conduit. And she had the Horn in her very skin. Had proved it could close a portal to Hel. -HOEAB CH91
LUNATHION LEYLINES - WYRDMARK #1 6 POINTED STAR
The quartz Gates across the city began to glow. Red, then orange, then gold, then white. Firstlight erupted from them. Lines of it speared out in every direction. The lights flowed down the ley lines between the Gates, connecting them along the main avenues. It formed a perfect, six-pointed star. The lines of light began to spread. Curving around the city walls. Cutting off the demons now aiming for the lands beyond. Light met light met light met light. Until the city was ringed with it. Until every street was glowing. And Bryce was still making the Drop. -HOEAB CH92
There was also the idea of the Wyrdgates, which appeared numerous times alongside the mention of Wyrdmarks, but she’d never heard of them. When she’d first stumbled across the notion of Wyrdgates, days ago, it had seemed interesting, and so she’d researched, digging through piles of old parchment, only to find more puzzling theories. -TOG CH27
The gates were both real and invisible things. Humans could not see them, but they could be summoned and accessed using the Wyrdmarks. They opened into other realms, some of them good, some of them bad. Things could come through from the other side and slither into Erilea. It was due to this that many of the strange and fell creatures of Erilea existed. -TOG CH27
WHY THE STAR OF DAVID DOESN’T WORK
While many have connected the Star of David - a six-pointed star formed by two overlapping equilateral triangles - the shape doesn’t follow the leylines in Lunathion. A Star of David connects 6 of the gates, but doesn’t connect the 7th and central Heart Gate to the others.
ALTERNATIVE 6 POINTED STAR
A unicursal hexagram does connect all 7 gates and follows the leylines in Lunathion. This six-pointed star that can be traced or drawn unicursally, in one continuous line “with no beginning and no end” rather than by two overlaid triangles. The hexagram can also be depicted inside a circle with the points touching it. It is often depicted in an interlaced form with the lines of the hexagram passing over and under one another to form a knot. A knot of leylines perhaps?
LUNATHION LEYLINES - WYRDMARK #2
It was just a triangle inside of a circle. “Can you read these marks?” she asked. A Wyrdmark … how strange! -TOG CH23
LUNATHION LEYLINES - WYRDMARK #3
LUNATHION LEYLINES - WYRDMARK #4
LUNATHION LEYLINES AS WYRDMARKS
Was the city of Lunathion chosen for not just the leylines, but for the wyrdmarks the leylines create?
“This doesn’t offer more than what we already know about the usual sort of earth magic the Fae possess, but it does mention that those with earth magic were sent ahead to scout lands, to sense where to build. Not only the best geographical locations, but magical ones, too. They could sense the ley lines—the channels of energy running throughout the land, throughout Midgard. They told the Asteri to build their cities where several of the lines met, at natural crossroads of power, and picked those places for the Fae to settle, too. But they selected Avallen just for the Fae. To be their personal, eternal stronghold.” Ruhn considered. “Okay, so if Flynn and Sathia say this place is dead and rotting …” “It doesn’t line up with the claims recorded here about Avallen.” “But why would the ancient Fae lie about there being leylines here?” “I don’t think they lied,” Lidia said, and pointed to the maps on the other table, where Dec had discarded them. “I think the Avallen they first visited, with all those ley lines and magic … I think it existed. But then something changed.” -HOFAS CH54
“These lines are capable of moving magic, but also carrying communications across great distances.” Like those between the Gates of Crescent City, the way she’d spoken to Danika the day she’d made the Drop. “There are ley lines across the whole of the universe. And the planets—like Midgard, like Hel, like the home world of the Fae—atop those lines are joined by time and space and the Void itself. It thins the veils separating us. The Asteri have long chosen worlds that are on the ley lines for that exact purpose. It made it easier to move between them, to colonize those planets. There are certain places on each of these worlds where the most ley lines overlap, and thus the barrier between worlds is at its weakest.” -HOFAS CH60
“The mists are a result of the ley lines’ power,” Aidas said. “They’re an indication of a thin place. Hoping to find a ley line strong enough to help her transfer and hide Theia’s power, Helena sent a fleet of Fae with earth magic to scour every misty place they could find on Midgard. When they told her of a place wreathed in mists so thick they could not pierce them, Helena went to investigate. The mists parted for her—as if they had been waiting. She found the small network of caves on Avallen … and the black salt beneath the surface.” -HOFAS CH60
The Hidden Legacy- A Ruhn Danaan x Rhysands sister series
Chapter 1: The Echoes of a Forgotten Name
Summary: Rhysand’s sister, Seraphis, long thought dead, was taken by the Asteri/Valgs, her memories erased and turned into a ruthless killer loyal to their cause. After Bryce kills the Asteri, Seraphis seeks vengeance on her and everyone else involved. As she hunts them down, Rhysand and the Inner Circle discover the shocking truth: she’s alive, and now their enemy.
See masterlist
Chronomancy: The mastery of time, allowing one to bend, twist, and manipulate the fabric of temporal reality.
The Asteri realm, once an epitome of unyielding power, now lay in ruins. The remnants of it's dark grandeur whispered of a time when it reigned supreme. Shadows flitted through the crumbling architecture, now an empty expanse where the only echoes were those of a fallen empire. The stillness was profound, the silence punctuated only by the faint hum of residual magic.
Amid the debris walked Seraphis, her presence a stark contrast to the desolation around her. Clad in a black cloak that fluttered with her steps, she was a figure of cold determination. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the remnants of what had been the heart of the Aster's domino. To her, this destruction was not merely a loss but a catalyst for a deeper mission.
Seraphis' existence had been shaped entirely by the Asteri. From a young age, she was taken and molded into their perfect soldier. They told her that her parents had abandoned her, leaving her out on the streets as a newborn to die. She was an orphan with no form of family, no parents or siblings. Her upbringing was harsh and uncompromising. She was trained to harness the full spectrum of temporal manipulation--abilities that allowed her to travel through time, reverse it's flow, and manipulate it's very essence. The Asteri had crafted her to be both a weapon and a guardian of their interests.
Under their guidance, Seraphis had become a master of time's complexities. Once she was old enough and they deemed her fit for it, the Asteri took her with them to new world's as they went on conquering--no sharing their greatness with the world. That's how she ended up joining them when they would go from one universe to another, her time-manipulating power's growing stronger with each time.
She remembers how in Erilea she would send Maeve and Erawan the direct orders coming from the six Asteri. Of course, no one was more pissed than Seraphis when that Aelin Galathynius and her lapdogs ended up winning the war. Well, atleast they got rid of incompetent idiots like Maeve and Erawan. She also played a covert role in the shadowy events that unfolded, aiding the Valgs in their machinations and ensuring their influence remained unchecked. She had begged Polaris, The North Star, to let her go finish what Erawan couldn't but...they didn't allow her, seeing her as too valuable to risk.
When the Asteri's control extended to Midgard, Seraphis continued her work with the same ruthless efficiency. She wove through the intricate tapestry of its politics and power struggles, her presence a silent but undeniable force. Her actions, often unseen, played a key role in the Asteri's manipulation of the city's dynamics.
Now with the fall of the Asteri and their defeat at the hands of Bryce Quinlan, Seraphis found herself in a new reality. The Asteri, the only family--no matter how cruel--she had ever known, were gone, and their cause lay in ruins. Austrus, Eosphoros, Hesperus, Octartis, Polaris, Sirius, Vesperus and....Rigelus.
Oh, Rigelus.
Though millions of years older than her, Seraphis was the only being ever that Rigelus didn't look down on. Instead, he saw her as a close second, always being kind towards her--or as kind as someone like him could be. The respect and authority she held over everyone else just like Rigelus and the other Asteris was impressive.
Seraphis wouldn't call what they had with him love. No, a far cry from that. More like a sick obsession and posession that he felt towards her, always having her watched and protected, kept by his side on every event and conquest. And Seraphis loved every moment of it. She didn't care if that made her look sick, yearning for his and only his attention.
No one could ever understand what she and him had anyway.
Does it matter now? No. No, it doesn't.
Their loss ignited a fierce loyalty within her, driving her to seek vengeance. Those Midgard rats, particularly the bastard Bryce Quinlan, had disrupted everything she had been programmed to protect. Seraphis's focus was singular and unyielding. Her powers, unparalleled in their scope, were a tool for her vengeance. The remnants of the Asteri's legacy would be avenged, and she would ensure that their enemies paid dearly for their defiance.
Maybe, maybe Rigelus was against her being in the battlefield and focusing more on improving her powers more for this very reason. Knowing him and how he would always be fifteen steps ahead of everyone, even his fellow Asteri's, Seraphis wouldn't be surprised if he knew something like this would happen and she would be left as the one to avenge them.
Seraphis’s thoughts were interrupted by a faint sound—a shuffle, almost imperceptible. Her head snapped toward the noise, eyes narrowing as a figure stepped out from behind a crumbled pillar.
The figure was hunched, draped in ragged robes that trailed on the ground, their face obscured by a deep hood. There was something otherworldly about them, an eerie stillness in their movements, as if they weren’t quite tethered to the reality around them.
An oracle, perhaps. Or one of the soulless travelers that drifted through the remnants of the universe, always seeking but never finding.
“You,” the stranger rasped, their voice a dry whisper carried by the wind. “You are lost.”
Seraphis’s expression remained impassive, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of a blade at her side. “I am not lost,” she replied, her voice cold. “I know exactly where I am.”
The traveler’s hooded head tilted slightly, as though studying her. “Do you? You walk among ruins, chasing ghosts of a fallen empire. What is it you seek, child of time?”
Seraphis bristled at the title, her grip tightening on the hilt of her blade. “That’s none of your concern.”
The figure seemed to sigh, a sound that echoed strangely in the empty space. “Vengeance is a heavy burden to bear. The threads of time do not forget. Every action leaves a scar, every choice a ripple. You of all beings should understand this.”
Seraphis regarded them with a penetrating stare. “The Asteri were my family. Their enemies are now my enemies. The vengeance I seek is not for solace but for justice.”
The stranger nodded slowly, their gaze thoughtful. “Justice and vengeance are often indistinguishable in the eyes of those who wield power. But remember, the threads of time you manipulate weave through all that exists. Even in vengeance, there are consequences that ripple forward.”
Seraphis stiffened, her eyes narrowing. “You speak in riddles. Say what you mean.”
The traveler raised a bony hand, palm out, as if to placate her. “I mean only this: Beware of the paths you walk, for time is not a line, but a web. Tug on one thread, and you may find yourself tangled in another. The truth you seek may not be the truth you remember.”
A flicker of unease stirred in Seraphis’s chest, but she pushed it aside. “I know my truth. I will restore the legacy of the Asteri.”
The traveler bowed their head slightly, as if in resignation. “Then may you find what you are searching for. But remember, time itself may turn against those who wield it carelessly.”
Seraphis said nothing, her jaw clenched as the traveler slowly turned away, disappearing into the shadows as if they had never been there at all.
She stood still for a moment, staring after them. Their words clung to the air, echoing in the empty halls of her mind. But she pushed them aside as she always had. There was no room for doubt, no room for hesitation.
There was only vengeance.
Seraphis remained standing, her figure outlined by the towering ruins of the Asteri realm as she watched the shadows engulf the mysterious traveler. Doubt was a weakness, a sentiment she had long been trained to overcome. Her purpose was clear.
Turning back to the wreckage of the Asteri empire, she let her gaze wander over the shattered remains, of what had once been untouchable. Each piece of debris, every crumbled wall, was a reminder of her mission--of the legacy she would rebuild through blood and retribution. The ancient cities, once towering, had now faded into dust, but she would ensure that their enemies would remember them. They would remember through pain, through fear, and through her.
She moved through the ruins with a calculated stride, her mind already spinning threads of time, pulling at the edges of the past. In her hands, time was no mere concept—it was a weapon, one she had sharpened over centuries. She had walked between the lines of history, bending it to the will of the Asteri. They had shaped her, honed her into the ultimate instrument of control.
Rigelus had always been there—overseeing her progress, pushing her further, demanding more. Where others would have seen cruelty, Seraphis had only seen purpose. His obsession with her, the cold possessiveness, had been her source of strength. It drove her to perfect her abilities, to become more than just a soldier. She was his favorite, his chosen, and she had relished every moment of his attention.
The whispers of time teased her now, fragments of events from Erilea and Midgard slipping through her consciousness. Maeve and Erawan had been her pawns, their strings manipulated under the orders of the Asteri. She had done their bidding, silently observing the collapse of entire worlds, her presence unknown to the mortal players. Aelin Galathynius, Bryce Quinlan—all of them had merely been cogs in the Asteri’s grand design, and yet, somehow, they had prevailed.
Seraphis’s jaw clenched. She could still remember the sting of watching Aelin ascend, of seeing Erawan fall. The threads of time she had woven through that world had come undone, slipping from her grasp, leaving her powerless to intervene. That Aelin had won infuriated her. She’d wanted to be there to ensure Erawan’s success, to be the force that would crush the rebellion—but Rigelus had forbidden it.
And now, Bryce Quinlan. Seraphis’s hands twitched, her magic itching at her fingertips. The half-fae princess had killed the Asteri, destroyed everything Seraphis had been built for. Seraphis knew that Bryce’s power over the Gate was formidable, but it wouldn’t save her. No, not when Seraphis had centuries of control over time at her disposal. The moment would come, and Bryce wouldn’t even see it approaching.
But she couldn’t rush. Not yet.
Seraphis knew that striking without preparation was foolish, especially after the Asteri had been blindsided. Bryce would be expecting retaliation, the remnants of Midgard’s population on high alert. Seraphis needed time to plan, to gather intelligence, to weave herself back into the folds of the worlds that were left.
And maybe, just maybe, she’d need allies.
She came to a halt at what had once been the central hall of the Asteri’s council. The chamber had once thrummed with power, where decisions that shaped entire worlds had been made. Now, only silence reigned here. Seraphis’s silver eyes flickered as she raised a hand, time itself responding to her unspoken command. The air shifted, the ruins stirring as she pulled at the threads of the past.
For a moment, the hall was whole again. The pillars straightened, the ceiling restored. Seraphis stood at the heart of it, watching as ghostly figures flickered into place. The Asteri council in all its glory—Rigelus at its helm, the others in their seats. She stepped forward, her fingers grazing the edge of the spectral table.
“I’ll restore it,” she whispered, her voice filled with cold resolve. “I’ll bring you back.”
She let go, and the illusion faded as time returned to the present. The ruins crumbled once more around her. The past, it seemed, was not yet willing to reveal its secrets.
But Seraphis knew it was only a matter of time before she’d be ready to act. The Asteri’s cause had not died with them, and neither had their most powerful soldier.
She turned, her cloak swirling around her as she left the council chamber behind. The traveler’s words, though dismissed, lingered in her mind like an unwanted guest. The idea of consequences—of time itself rebelling against her—was absurd. She controlled time. She was time. The scars she carved into the fabric of history were her own to shape.
As she stepped out into the barren expanse once more, the wind picked up, swirling dust into the air. Seraphis narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t alone.
A voice, soft and detached, called out to her again. “Still chasing ghosts, I see.”
Seraphis’s hand was on her blade in an instant as she turned toward the sound. The traveler from earlier stood at the edge of the ruin, watching her with the same unsettling stillness. This time, though, they did not approach.
“I thought I told you to leave,” Seraphis said, her voice a low growl.
The traveler smiled, though it didn’t reach their eyes. “I did. But time has a way of bringing us back to the places we least expect.”
Seraphis’s patience wore thin. “You enjoy speaking in riddles. Speak plainly or be gone.”
The traveler’s smile faded, their voice lowering. “I am not your enemy, Seraphis. But your path is darker than you realize.”
“I know my path,” she snapped. “And I don’t need your advice.”
The traveler studied her for a moment longer before nodding slowly. “Very well. But remember this—time is not as loyal as you think.”
With that, the traveler turned and walked into the wind, their form fading into the dust.
Seraphis stood there, alone once more, her mind already discarding the encounter. There was only one thing that mattered now: finding Bryce Quinlan and finishing what the Asteri had started.
She would bring time itself to its knees to see it done.
With a final glance at the desolate landscape that had once been the center of her life, she turned on her heel and began to walk, her steps deliberate, her mind racing with plans. She couldn't afford to waste any more time in this hollow place of memories. Midgard awaited her, Bryce and her puppets blissfully unaware of the storm that was coming for them.
Seraphis extended her hand, her fingers shimmering with the familiar hum of temporal power. She closed her eyes, focusing on the thread that would lead her to Midgard. Time bent to her will, the universe shifting around her as she tore through the veils of reality.
When she opened her eyes again, she was no longer in the ruined empire. The air was crisp and cold, the sky above a muted gray. She stood at the edge of Lunathion, the sprawling metropolis stretching out before her, it's towers scraping the sky.
For a moment, Seraphis took it all in--the hum of life and magic, the scent of the sea carried on the breeze, the distant sounds of the city's chaos. It was an intricate web of power, alliances and fragile peace. She would tear through it all.
She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, her mind already calculating her next move. Bryce Quinlan might have been the one to kill the Asteri, but she wasn't foolish enough to think that her target would be that simple. Bryce wasn't alone--she had allies, strong ones, and it would take more than brute force to bring them all down.
No. She would need to be smarter, patient. The plan would unfold piece by piece, and by the time they realized what was happening, it would be too late. The city would be hers to dismantle, it's champions falling one by one.
Seraphis began to walk, blending into the crowd with ease, her hood low over her face. The streets were filled with fae, shifters, and ordinary citizens going about their lives, blissfully aware of the storm brewing in their midst.
This was no longer just about vengeance. It was about control--taking back what had been ripped ripped away from her. And Seraphis had no intention of stopping until the last remnants of these street rats were nothing more than dust.
Let the games begin.
Seraphis moved through the crowded streets of Lunathion like a shadow, unnoticed and undisturbed. She watched the people around her with detached curiosity, studying them, their movements, their habits. They lived in this world, so sure of their safety, of the new order that had come with the Asteri’s fall. Fools.
The Asteri had been invincible for eons, and now that they were gone, these mortals believed themselves free. But freedom was an illusion, fragile as glass. Seraphis would shatter it.
Her power thrummed beneath her skin, the flow of time bending ever so slightly as she moved. With a mere thought, she could slow it to a crawl, watch the world freeze around her while she continued untouched. But now was not the time for such displays. Now was the time for observation, for patience.
She knew the city well, even if she had never set foot in it herself before now. Through the Asteri’s influence, she had seen Lunathion grow, its streets mapped out in her mind long before her arrival. The Asteri had ensured her knowledge was extensive, always keeping her one step ahead of their enemies. That was how she had operated—always in the shadows, just out of sight, but always present.
Bryce Quinlan was the key to it all. She had torn down the Asteri, and for that, she would suffer. But Bryce wasn’t the only one on her list. Hunt Athalar, Ruhn Danaan, and all the other lap dogs. All of them had played their part in toppling the only order Seraphis had ever known.
As she passed through an open market, Seraphis paused, her gaze locking onto a news holo-screen. The display flickered to life, showing a broadcast about the city’s newest heroes. Images of Bryce and her allies flashed across the screen, their faces well-known to everyone by now. The city had hailed them as saviors, but Seraphis only saw targets.
Her lips curled into a faint sneer. “Enjoy the limelight while it lasts,” she muttered under her breath. “It’ll all come crashing down soon enough.”
Without another glance, she moved on, slipping into an alleyway where she could plan her next steps in peace. She leaned against a brick wall, closing her eyes briefly as she reached out with her powers. Time was a river, flowing constantly, but she could see its branches, the possible futures that stretched out before her.
She saw herself confronting Bryce, the clash of power, the chaos that would unfold. But it was distant still—there were obstacles to remove first, pieces to shift into place. She saw glimpses of Bryce and her minions, saw them moving through their lives, unsuspecting. They had no idea she was here, that she was watching, waiting.
But something else stirred at the edges of her vision. Something… unfamiliar.
Seraphis frowned, her concentration breaking as she pulled back from the threads of time. There was a presence she hadn’t expected, a ripple she couldn’t quite place. Someone—or something—was watching her in return.
Her eyes snapped open, and she tensed, scanning her surroundings. The alley was empty, the market bustling just beyond, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being observed. Her hand moved instinctively to the blade at her hip, her muscles coiled for action.
“Show yourself,” she called softly, her voice low and dangerous.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, from the shadows at the far end of the alley, a figure emerged.
They were tall and cloaked, their face hidden beneath a deep hood. But unlike the ragged traveler she had encountered in the ruins, this one moved with purpose, with grace. There was a weight to their presence, a power that prickled at the edges of Seraphis’s awareness.
“Seraphis,” the figure said, their voice smooth and calm. “It’s been a long time.”
Seraphis’s eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on her blade. “Who are you?”
The figure took a step closer, their movements slow and deliberate. “You don’t remember me, do you? Perhaps that’s for the best.”
Her patience was wearing thin. She stepped forward, her power surging to the surface, the air around her thickening as time began to bend. “I won’t ask again.”
The figure paused, as if considering their next words. “I’m not here to fight you. In fact, I’m here to offer you something.”
Seraphis’s eyes darkened. “I’m not interested in offers.”
“Oh, I think you will be,” the figure said, a hint of amusement in their voice. “You’re here for revenge, yes? To make those who wronged the Asteri pay?”
Seraphis remained silent, her gaze cold.
The figure chuckled softly. “You may be powerful, Seraphis, but even you can’t take on this crew alone. They have allies, resources—things you can’t even begin to imagine. But I can help you. I know things. I know their weaknesses.”
Seraphis tilted her head slightly, intrigued despite herself. “And why would you help me?”
The figure’s hood shifted as if they were smiling beneath it. “Let’s just say I have my own score to settle with Bryce Quinlan and her friends. We share a common enemy.”
Seraphis studied them for a long moment, her instincts on high alert. She didn’t trust easily—especially not strangers who appeared out of nowhere offering help. Whoever they were, they were dangerous. But perhaps, in this case, dangerous could be useful.
Seraphis let her hand fall from the blade at her hip, though her guard remained up. “You speak as though you know much. And yet, you haven’t even shown me your face.”
The figure laughed softly, a low, melodic sound. “Trust isn’t something freely given, is it? But for now, let’s keep things this way. You’ll find out more when the time is right.”
Seraphis’s eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, the figure stepped back, already fading into the shadows. “Find me when you’ve made up your mind,” they called over their shoulder, their voice trailing off. “You know where to look.”
And with that, they were gone. Only the stillness of the alley remained, along with the faint hum of magic in the air.
Seraphis stood there, contemplating the encounter. Whoever the stranger was, they clearly knew more than they let on. If they could be trusted—or if she could control them—they might be the key to speeding up her plans. For now, she’d keep her distance but watch closely.
She pushed herself away from the wall, stepping back into the crowd, disappearing once again into the flow of this metropolis life. Her focus sharpened. She didn’t need anyone’s help—yet. She would deal with Bryce and her gang in her own way. But there was something about that presence earlier. It lingered, unsettling her in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn't quite like anyone she'd known before.
Moving toward the heart of the city, Seraphis caught a flicker of movement to her left. Just a glance, quick, fleeting—but her gaze caught it in time. A tall figure, cloaked in shadows, moved through the market. For a split second, his profile appeared—just long enough for her to notice the tattoos curling up his arms, the way his eyes scanned the surroundings like a predator assessing the area.
Ruhn Danaan.
She didn’t know him. But as her gaze followed him for that brief moment, something stirred in her. A pull. It was faint, distant, almost unnoticeable. She clenched her jaw and forced it aside, refocusing her attention.
He turned a corner and vanished into the crowds, oblivious to her watchful eyes.
Good. He should remain that way for now. Her target wasn’t him—not yet. She had bigger prey to hunt.
But as she moved away, that strange feeling lingered in the back of her mind.
Seraphis continued through bustling streets, her mind a storm of plans and calculations. She navigated the urban labyrinth with practiced ease, the weight of her mission pressing heavily on her shoulders. The city’s vibrant life was a stark contrast to the darkness she harbored within.
As she walked, she observed the people around her with a cold, analytical gaze. She noted their routines, their behaviors, and the various places that could serve her needs—resources, potential allies, or convenient places to remain hidden. The city had a pulse, a rhythm that she had to understand if she wanted to exploit its weaknesses.
Finally, she found a small, nondescript motel tucked away on a quieter street, away from the main thoroughfares. Its faded neon sign buzzed faintly in the dusk, and the building itself seemed to blend seamlessly into the backdrop of the city’s urban sprawl. It was perfect—low profile and unremarkable, a place where she could stay under the radar.
Seraphis pushed open the door to the motel with a practiced nonchalance, the bell above the entrance jingling softly as she stepped inside. The small lobby was dimly lit, and the air carried the faint, musty odor of old carpets and stale coffee. Behind the reception desk, a man sat hunched over a magazine, his eyes glancing up as she entered.
The man looked up, startled by her sudden appearance. He was in his mid-forties, with a graying beard and weary eyes. He quickly set the magazine aside, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to apprehension as he took in her commanding presence.
Seraphis walked up to the counter, her gaze sharp and unyielding. She placed a stack of cash—more than enough to cover the cost of a room—on the desk, her fingers lightly drumming on the surface as she spoke. “I need a room. Now.”
The man’s eyes widened as he took in the cash, and he gulped nervously. “Of course, ma’am. Right away.” He fumbled with a set of room keys, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to keep his composure.
Seraphis leaned closer, her voice a cold whisper. “I don’t want to be disturbed. Understand?”
The man nodded vigorously, his face pale. “Yes, yes, of course. Room 7. Just down the hall to the left.”
Without acknowledging him further, Seraphis took the key and turned to leave. The man watched her go, his relief palpable. As she walked down the narrow hallway, she heard him muttering under his breath, though she couldn’t make out the words. It was clear he was shaken, and that was exactly what she wanted.
Once she reached Room 7, Seraphis unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing it behind her with a decisive click. The room was small but adequate for her needs—a bed, a table, and a window overlooking the street below. She set her belongings on the table and began to prepare for her next steps, her mind already working through the plans she had laid out.
The motel’s ambiance, with its dull colors and low hum of activity, was perfect for laying low. The chaos outside was a useful cover, and she would use this time to strategize her moves carefully.
The hunt was just beginning and Midgard's fate hung in the balance.
You are a world walker and bring Azriel to your modern fae world. Shenanigans occur.
The Internet
- Upon arriving to your world Azriel was suspicious as hell of you. You knew SO much and could figure out so many things without even leaving your apartment.
- Literally, he pouted. This male who had mastered the art of unreadable facial expressions sat on the couch, arms crossed, brows furrowed, pouting.
- You had to convince him to open up to you (which was not easy, btw) by straddling his lap and teasing him with flirty kisses all over his face and neck.
- “You’re a spy.” He finally mutters.
- Completely taken back by THAT gem of a statement you reply, “Azriel, I cannot shut up to save my life and you think I could be quiet enough to be a spy?”
- “Then how did you know which restaurant location to go to based on the amount of people there during the specific hour we were going? Who gives you that intel?”
- “Oh honey” You try to keep a neutral expression but your traitorous lips twitch upward. “The internet. It’s called the internet. You can find so much information on there.”
- After you’d explained the concept of Google to him, the first thing he tried searching was “Is Beron Vanserra allied with the Queens on the continent?”
- Resisting the urge to become this emoji (🤦🏻♀️) you placed a loving hand on his shoulder. “Let’s sign you up for a beginner computer class, babe”
- The first thing he properly searched was “advanced snowball fighting techniques”
Airplanes
- You knew he was competitive but he took it to a new level when he found out about airplanes.
- Why would we ever need to take one when he could just fly us himself?
- “Oh, because they’re faster? I’ll believe that when I see it.”
- That was a direct quote from his mouth
- The day you took him to the airport so he could see for himself that they were indeed very fast, he took off without warning, trying to race one.
- He had to shroud himself in shadows and sneak home afterward as the aerial force mistook him for an enemy.
- The plane won.
Vibrators (NSFW)
- Azriel is a certified freak. Always down to try anything new in the bedroom.
- Until you introduced him to vibrators.
- “Why is that necessary when my fingers, mouth, cock, and shadows can achieve the same result?”
- Honestly, he had a point.
- You gave him the excuse of “For when you return to Prythian on missions and I’m lonely.”
- That made more sense to him but….
- He’s still very competitive.
- You had to do a trial of what could bring you to completion first: Him or the toy.
- Azriel won 😈
———————————————————-
Thank you for reading! If you’d like to see more headcanons of Az in the modern world - lmk!
“There's nothing wrong with a party girl. I don't get why the world thinks there is...Its easier for me- when people assume the worst about what I am. It lets me see who they really are." -House of Earth and Blood
Requeted by Anon! This is the Tristan Flynn part of "Az or Flynn" lol. Thanks again for enabling me to write about my faves! Hope you like it! Also, Happy Valentine's Day everybody!
Fandom: Crescent City
Summary: Bryce's good friend from Nidaros has moved to Crescent City with her, and quickly made an impression on a certain fae lord. But she's not interested in a one-night stand, and Flynn has made it clear before that he's not really a relationship guy.
Word Count: 5,252
Category: Angst, Fluff, Humor
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
When I'd first come to Crescent City, I hadn't known anyone other than Bryce. We'd grown up together in Nidaros, and now as adults, we'd maintained our close friendship even after she moved away. About a month ago, I'd joined her, following her move to the big city. I'd been terrified and out of my depth, with Bryce as my only connection in the massive metropolis. Now, I stood shoulder to shoulder with the top ranking members of the Fae Aux, screaming as we spectated the end of a beer pong game in the middle of a massive house party.
Things had certainly changed.
Declan and his boyfriend Marc stood on one side of the table, competing against a few people I didn't know. I was still relatively new, although my circle had expanded thanks to Bryce. Dec and Marc only had one cup left on their opponent's side, and then the game would be theirs.
The whole room screamed, a mix of heckling and encouragement, as Dec lined up his shot. Bryce hung off my neck, stone cold sober but shouting like the drunkest one in the crowd, which made me smile. Finally, after an extra moment's pause, Dec let the ball fly.
A moment later, it splashed into the cup, making Marc and Dec the winners.
The room erupted into cheers, no matter if people were rooting for or against Dec. A shot like that had to be appreciated.
The other team got a chance at redemption, but couldn't manage to get all of Marc and Dec's cups without missing. The game officially ended, with Marc and Dec's ten game win streak remaining unbroken.
"Boo!" came a loud voice, stepping through the crowd to the side of the table the losers had just vacated. Tristan Flynn stood tall, heckling his best friend across the table. "Somebody needs to take you two down!"
"Somebody just tried, Flynn!" Dec called back. "And you tried a few rounds ago, too. We're untouchable."
He and Marc did a little celebration, and Flynn rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, that was with Ruhn as my partner. I just need a better partner, and then you two are done." His eyes turned to scan the crowd, landing immediately on Brcye.
"Quinlan-"
"Nope. No interest in being your teammate, Flynn."
He put a hand to his chest, mock hurt. "You wound me, Quinlan."
Bryce rolled her eyes. "You'll live. Besides, you're in luck. I happen to have the perfect partner for you."
Flynn raised an eyebrow in question at the same time Bryce gave me a hard shove forward. I turned to glare at her, but she just grinned back and gave me a little 'shoo' gesture. I narrowed my eyes at her even further, but turned back to Flynn anyway.
He watched me with a skeptical gaze. We'd gotten to know each other a little since I'd come to Lunathion, and we generally got along. That didn't make him trust me as a beer pong partner, though.
"Are you any good at pong, sweetheart?" he asked. I shrugged.
"I guess you're gonna find out."
With that, I turned from Flynn to quickly rerack the cups before picking up one of the balls on the table. I turned to Dec and Marc, waiting for one of them to do the same so we could shoot for who went first. They shared a look, then Dec stepped up, grinning at me as he prepared. I could feel Flynn hovering over my shoulder, but I ignored him as Dec and I locked eyes.
"Eye... to... eye," we said in sync, not looking away from each others' eyes as we let our first shots fly. I sank mine, but unfortunately, so did Dec.
I turned to Flynn. He didn't look impressed, exactly, but the wary skepticism had been replaced by a small, crooked smile.
"You're up," I said simply. Flynn didn't hesitate before stepping up to the table and going through the same procedure Dec and I had just done, but with Marc shooting opposite him. Like me, Flynn splashed his into a cup, but Marc's shot narrowly missed and bounced off into the crowd.
I let up a whooping cheer and high-fived Flynn, who was full-on grinning now. Marc and Dec just shook their heads.
"That means nothing," Dec called across the table. "You're both still toast."
"Yeah yeah, talk is cheap," I shot back. "Toss the other ball over here and let's get this upset on the road."
The game was truly a battle for the ages. The majority of the crowd had quickly rallied behind Flynn and I, since Dec and Marc had been dominating for far too long. They continued to sink shot after shot, but so did we. We held our own, using trash talk and head games and anything else we could think of to our advantage as the game went on.
I wasn't normally a super quiet person or anything, but since I'd been new to town and not in any party scenarios with Bryce's friends before this, I hadn't been ridiculously loud either. Now, however, I screamed, cheered, and jeered at the top of my lungs. With every celebration of success and mocking of the other team's misfortune, I caught Flynn staring at me more and more, an appraising look in his eye. I mostly ignored him, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't get a warm feeling in my chest when he grinned at me.
We both stayed focused and at the top of our games until, finally, each team only had one cup left. Marc and Dec had briefly pulled ahead, but Flynn had knocked out one of their cups to tie it. Now, the game rested on me.
"C'mon, you can do this!" shouted Flynn, putting his hands on my shoulders and jumping around a little to hype me up. I nodded, then turned to line up my shot as Flynn stepped back.
Marc and Dec were screaming, waving their hands everywhere to try and throw me off. The crowd screamed and the music blared, but I blocked it all out. I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, my eyes laser-focused on the cup ahead.
Without giving myself time to second guess, I brought my arm forward and let the ball fly. A second later, it landed with a splash in the final cup of Marc and Dec.
"YES!" roared Flynn, and a moment later my feet had left the ground. He'd wrapped his arms around my waist and picked me up in celebration. I laughed, absolutely beaming as Flynn set me down again.
"Alright, alright, it's not over yet!" Marc reminded us, bringing us out of the moment. "We get redemption shots."
"Even if you drag us into overtime, we're untouchable now," Flynn called. Our opponents ignored him, even as I joined Flynn's heckling and the two of us did everything we could think of to distract or psych out our opponents.
Marc shot first, and he missed. Me, Flynn, and apparently everyone else in the room held our breaths as Dec shook out his arm, then lined up his shot. Flynn and I waved our hands around, jumped up and down, and shouted things we thought might distract Dec, moving perfectly in sync like we'd been a team our whole life. Finally, Dec let the ball fly.
Flynn and I ripped our hands back to avoid any accidental interference that would cost us the game, and a split second later, Dec's ball bounced off the rim of our last cup. I reacted like lightning. According to the rules, once it hit the cup, it was fair game. I smacked it out of the way, off the table and into the crowd, before it could fall one way or the other.
"NO!" wailed Dec, sinking to his knees dramatically across the table.
"YES!" Flynn and I screamed in sync, and he picked me up again and spun me around. He put me down a moment later, still beaming, hands still around my waist. Our eyes locked, both caught up in the moment of euphoria, and he leaned towards me just a bit. I smiled, squeezing his arm but turning away to where Marc and Dec were still going through the stages of grief across the table.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to kiss Flynn. But I also knew he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. The three different females I'd seen him make out with throughout the party tonight were testament to that. I didn't want to just kiss him and then try to pretend to go back to normal as friends the next day, so instead, I focused on the euphoria of our win.
Flynn let the moment pass, too, as we gloated over Marc and Dec's defeat. Finally, after significant whining and complaining, they wandered off and another pair stepped up to challenge me and Flynn. We ran the table for the better part of an hour before stepping away to do other things, our win streak still intact.
I stayed at the party with Bryce for a little while longer, dancing and laughing the night away. Flynn joined us for basically all of it, making a point of paying attention to me, talking and laughing with me. He toed the line of flirting more often than not, and never wandered to other parts of the party even though Bryce spent significant time roasting him every chance she got. When she and I finally left the party just after two in the morning, we only got a few steps from the frat house before she turned to me.
"Alright, spill. What's going on with you and Flynn?"
I laughed, gently bumping my shoulder into hers as we walked. "Nothing's going on, Bryce. He's a friend, that's it."
"I've seen how he acts around his friends, and that's not it. I know you're new, but you must've noticed the difference too."
I sighed. "Yeah, I have. And I won't lie, Bryce, he's great. He's funny, I like talking to him and spending time with him. Obviously he's gorgeous. But based on everything I've seen from him, he's not interested in an actual relationship with somebody. Likewise, I'm not interested in making out with somebody at a party and having that be the end of it. So I think it's best if we just stay friends."
Bryce nodded thoughtfully, letting a comfortable silence rest over us for a few blocks as we walked side by side. I thought that was the end of it, but then she chimed in again.
"I've never seen him keep flirting with somebody as long as he did with you tonight. Normally if he hasn't gotten what he wanted in about twenty minutes, he moves on."
I didn't respond. I mean, what was I supposed to say? I wasn't sure Bryce really knew what she was trying to say either, and a second later, she moved on with a curse. I looked at her in question, and she sighed.
"I just got a text from Jesiba. I have to go into work in the morning."
I winced in sympathy, then let Bryce complain to me the rest of the way home. I fell into bed after promising her some kind of baked good when she got home tomorrow to help her get through the work day, and figured that would be the last of the discussion on things with Flynn.
I was very, very wrong.
For the next few weeks, whenever I did any activity that included Flynn, he took every opportunity he got to flirt with me. I never reciprocated, but I didn't totally shut him down either. More than a few of my friends other than Bryce had mentioned it, but I usually brushed their questions off. Flynn and I got on like a wild fire, there was no denying it. But just staying friends, hopefully good friends, still seemed like the best choice to me.
Around a month after Flynn had first started flirting, our whole extended group had decided to go out to the White Raven together to dance the night away and do whatever the hell we wanted to do. Bryce shot me a look on our way out the door, and I raised an eyebrow after locking the door behind us.
"You look good. Are you going to keep ignoring Flynn, or are you finally planning to do something about him tonight?"
I waved her off. "I already told you, Bryce, I'm not-"
"Interested in a one-time thing, yeah, I know. And that's fine. But he's been chasing you for a month. I think you should talk to him, let him know you're not interested."
"I'm sure he'll lose interest soon enough, B. Probably tonight, when he finally gets a break from work to the point that he notices some pretty thing dancing next to him and forgets he ever had a thing for me."
She gave me a skeptical look, but I ignored it. Flynn had become my best friend other than Bryce over the last month, but I wasn't about to start kidding myself that I might be the exception to his lack of interest in relationships.
Bryce and I were the last to arrive, and we found the rest of the group already posted up at a table, the first round of drinks ready to go. Flynn was already out on the dancefloor, and after saying a quick hello to the rest of our friends, I decided to go join him.
"Bryce? You in?"
She grinned and shook her head at me. "Nope. Have fun."
I narrowed my eyes at her, making sure she knew she wasn't being slick and that her implication wasn't appreciated. She blew me a kiss, and I rolled my eyes before turning from the table to go find Flynn on the dancefloor.
"Hey!" he cried, lighting up as soon as he saw me. "Finally!"
He grabbed my hands without hesitation, twirling me around him in the middle of the dancefloor. I smiled and laughed, then fell forward as he pulled me to his chest. I rested my hands on his shoulders, swaying to the beat with him, his beautiful eyes and devilish smile making my heart race. His hands drifted down my waist to rest low on my hips, and it was enough to shake me out of the moment.
I smiled, but put a little more space between us, and Flynn took the hint. He twirled me out and away from him again, and when he pulled me back this time, he dropped my hands. The two of us danced our hearts out, leaving a bit of space between us, letting the music completely take us over. Flynn's eyes still raked over me, but I just grinned back at him as I moved to the beat.
We spent a long, long time out there, dancing our hearts out without caring if we were good, making absolute fools of ourselves. Flynn's eyes stayed locked on me the whole time, that stupid grin never leaving his face. I tried my best to ignore it and just enjoy the moment with the frat boy I'd somehow become best friends with.
Finally, after the song switched again and Flynn showed no signs of slowing down, I had to take a break. I stopped dancing and stepped forward into his space, and Flynn mirrored the move, even leaning down a little so it'd be easier for me to shout into his ear.
"I'm gonna run to the restroom!" I called, still barely able to be heard over the noise. I leaned back and Flynn nodded at me, shooting me one more grin before I turned and headed off through the crowd.
I ducked past all the drunk patrons, and luckily for me, found no line at the bathroom. I paused at the sinks before heading back into the fray to splash some cold water under my eyes, waking me up a little and removing any misbehaving mascara. Then I sighed, gave myself a giant smile in the mirror, and headed for the door back to the rest of the club.
When I stepped into the hallway, to my surprise, I found Flynn standing a few feet from me. He smiled when he caught sight of me, and I came to a stop just in front of him, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the wall.
"What are you doing?" I called over the pounding music still coming from the dancefloor. Flynn's grin just widened and he pushed off the wall, moving to stand in front of me. He braced one arm on the wall over my head and leaned in, crowding me and bringing his face down to within inches of mine.
"What I've been wanting to do since we kicked Dec's ass at pool," he responded, his voice low and throaty, just loud enough to be heard over the music. His eyes darted to my lips, and then he was leaning in, intention clear.
My mind went blank as I stared back at him. He was one of the most handsome males I'd ever met, and I really did love talking to him and spending time with him. My heart raced at his proximity, and I'd never admit it to Bryce, but I wanted to kiss him, bad-
But then I thought better of it, as a group of female shifters passed us, staring and giggling into their hands. How many others had Flynn cornered in the hallway like this, for a physical release before he never called them again? How many females in this club had stood in the same place I did now, with the same male?
I pulled away at the last second, ducking under Flynn's arm to get some space from him. He whirled around to look at me with a frown, arms held out at his sides, clearly wondering what the hell I was doing. He took a step towards me and I took one back, which made him freeze on the spot.
"Sweetheart... what's wrong?" he asked, voice laced with confusion and concern. I wrapped my arms around myself and shook my head.
"I don't... I don't want this, Flynn. I don't want to make out with you in a dark club or hookup at the frat house. I don't care that you like to do that, it's your choice and you clearly enjoy it, but I don't. I don't want to be another fling or hookup or whatever before you move onto the next pretty thing that moves."
Flynn scowled. "What? That's not-"
"You've said yourself that you're not a relationship guy, Flynn. I've heard it a dozen times hanging out at the frat house. And that's okay. But I am a relationship person, and I care about you, a lot. Staying friends with you is more important to me than making out with you one time in a club hallway, only for you to turn around and grind with one of the shifters staring you down half an hour later."
Flynn's whole posture deflated, his expression dropping as he looked at me. I pursed my lips together and tried to give him a sympathetic look.
"Sorry, Flynn. I just... I really think this is for the best."
I didn't wait for a response before turning on my heel and heading back out to the dancefloor. I hadn't expected to care so much, but I could feel my heart threatening to shatter in my chest, and I wanted to get out of here before its resolve totally crumpled.
I reached our table to find my friends laughing and talking, Bryce mercifully on one end of the booth. I leaned in when I reached her, and her demeanor immediately became serious when she heard the tone of my voice.
"Hey, I think I'm gonna head home."
She pulled back and whirled around to look at me.
"What? Why?" Her eyes narrowed. "What happened?"
"Nothing happened. I just... I'm ready to go. You don't have to come, I just thought I should let you know."
She scoffed at me, turning away just long enough to scoop up her purse before standing with me.
"Let's go."
I shot her a grateful look, and she linked arms with me without a second look over her shoulder to the males at our table as we headed for the door. I didn't follow her lead, and when I looked back, I saw Flynn up against the wall again, some gorgeous female in front of him and leaning in with obvious intent in her eyes. That little piece of my heart I'd been trying to hold together finally splintered and broke away.
I hadn't wanted to talk about it, but Bryce managed to get the full story out of me before I went to bed. She looked thoughtful, and clearly had some opinions she wanted to share, but I was exhausted and hurting and didn't want to talk about it. Thankfully, that must've shown clearly enough on my face that she let it go.
At least, until I wandered into the kitchen the next morning.
"You look like shit," Bryce said in lieu of good morning, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter towards me. I narrowed my eyes at her, but took the coffee anyway.
"Thanks. That's about how I feel."
"So... do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
"Okay, then I will. Why are you pretending you don't have a thing for him?"
"Who said I was, Bryce? He's absolutely gorgeous and I love spending time with him. He's funny, and chaotic in a good way, and I love talking to him. He's become my best friend here, other than you. But I want to date him, not hookup with him. So there's no point talking about it."
"Are you sure he doesn't want to date you, though?"
I fixed her with a look that communicated clearly how stupid I thought that question was. She shot right back with a fierce look of her own.
"I'm just saying, I haven't seen him with anyone else since you two started hanging out. And he hasn't talked about the single lifestyle since then, either, or even joke-flirted with me."
I sighed and shook my head. "I saw him with somebody as we were leaving the club last night, after I officially shut him down."
Bryce just hummed, eyes narrowed in thought as she sipped her own mug of coffee. I didn't like one thing about that look, so I quickly picked up my mug and headed back to my bedroom.
"I'm getting dressed, and then I'm probably gonna head to the gym. I'll see you tonight!"
I shut the bedroom door behind me before Bryce had a chance to say anything, heaving a sigh of relief the minute it was closed.
I changed quickly, but waited to leave my room until I heard Bryce go into her own. I didn't want to be ambushed and forced into another talk, hence why I was going to the gym in the first place. It would be a good way to lose myself in my music, and to be distracted from feelings by the pain in the rest of my body.
I stayed at the gym for an hour, then took my time showering and getting dressed in the locker room. I stayed under the hot water for a lot longer than usual, trying to wash away the hurt feeling still curled in the center of my chest. It was my own fault, catching feelings for somebody who I knew didn't want a relationship. But that didn't make it any less terrible to try and recover.
When I finally left the gym, the sun was high in the sky, which gave me hope that Bryce might be at work when I got home. I knew I'd have to face her and that thoughtful look she'd had sooner or later, but my preference was later, and I wanted to do everything I could to push that conversation off.
Luckily, our apartment was empty when I pushed back through the door. I sighed, throwing on the first thing that looked good on the tv and heading to the kitchen to make myself some lunch. I'd just settled into the couch and taken the first bite of my sandwich when a knock on the door disturbed me.
Not many people could make it up to our apartment from the lobby, so I knew I couldn't ignore the knock. I set my sandwich down with a huff and crossed the room, not bothering to check the peephole before flinging the door open.
I immediately regretted my decision when I found Tristan Flynn standing before me, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. I frowned, glancing over his shoulder for any sign of the rest of the frat pack, but he was the only one in the hallway.
"Flynn, what- ACHOO!"
My head flung forward violently at the smell of the flowers in Flynn's hands, and I groaned as I straightened up on the other side of the sneezing fit. I looked up at him again, this time through slightly bleary eyes. He looked a little panicked.
"Fuck. Are you allergic to flowers? I told Ruhn it was a stupid idea-"
"Wait, did you bring those for me? Did Ruhn tell you to bring those for me?"
Flynn grimaced. "Yeah. It's a long- hold on."
He cut himself off when he noticed me scrunching my nose, trying to fend off another sneezing fit. He took a few steps back to a pot down the hallway, then with a wave of his hand and a little of his magic, he buried the bouquet in the dirt of the fern.
"Fertilizer," he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he returned to stand before me. "Sorry about that."
"That's okay..." I still sounded a little stuffy, but hopefully that would stop soon now that the flowers were out of nose-range. "What... what are you doing here?"
He sighed, staring at the ground for a few beats before abruptly looking up at me. His warm eyes met my own, and that little shard that had broken off last night dug itself in a little harder, almost making me wince in pain.
"I needed to talk to you. I... came to ask you out."
I laughed. When Flynn's face stayed just as grave and serious as it had been, more serious than I'd ever seen him look, I stopped laughing.
"Wait... are you serious?"
"Yeah, I am. Thanks for laughing, by the way."
"I'm sorry, I just, I don't know. Bringing flowers to my door to ask me on a date doesn't really seem like your thing."
"No shit. I almost killed you with those stupid flowers a minute ago." I cracked a smile again, and finally, a smile made its way onto Flynn's face too. He blew out a long breath, then shook his head. "Look, I know I'm not good at this. I've had a lot of practice and time to get good at other things, but... not this. But I don't want you to be a hookup. I've never had more fun in my life than whenever I spend time with you. You're funny and smart and gorgeous, and I haven't given a shit about other females since you sank that first shot in eye-to-eye. So I'm here to ask you on a real date. For... a real relationship."
His face scrunched up a little at the word, and my eyebrows shot into my hairline.
"You know people are usually excited when they talk about a relationship, right?"
"I am," he said, pinning me with the intense stare he normally reserved for Aux business. "This is just... new to me. I'm figuring it out. But I know that I want you, and no one else. I made fun of Quinlan and Athalar for being so sappy about all that 'dating your best friend' shit, but... having met you, it actually sounds kind of nice."
A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, especially as Flynn fidgeted in front of me. I'd never seen him nervous like this, probably because he didn't usually fear rejection for meaningless make outs. But that thought brought another image to my mind.
"What about the female in the club last night?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral. I failed, emotion breaking through, but at least I'd tried.
Flynn raised an eyebrow. "Who?"
"The one you were getting hot and heavy with when Bryce and I left," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. Flynn just scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"Please. She was drunk as hell and throwing herself at the first male she found attractive. Not that I would've minded before, but..." He rested one arm on the doorway above me, leaning into my space with a confident smirk that made my heart race. "Last night I had other things on my mind."
I fought and failed to keep a smile off my face, my gaze dropping from Flynn's. My heart raced at his words and his proximity, and I knew he could hear it. I expected him to rub it in, but instead, he let out a long breath.
"Look, you shot me down last night, and I don't want to put pressure on you and ruin our friendship or whatever. So it's not an issue if you say no, alright? But if you give me a chance..." I looked up, just in time to see that insufferable smirk on his face. "I plan to make the most of it."
This time, I didn't bother fighting the smile as it spread across my face. I rested a hand on Flynn's shoulder and leaned in closer, until I could place a soft kiss on his cheek. His hand immediately dropped from the doorframe to my waist, pulling me tight against him, but I just smirked and leaned back.
"I'm up for a date, Flynn. What did you have in mind?"
He practically growled as his eyes roved my face, down the rest of me, and back up to meet my eyes. More than a small part of my brain wanted to take advantage of the empty apartment behind me, but the rest of me won out. I wasn't about to make it that easy on him.
"I was thinking dinner. Drinks. And then... whatever else we feel like doing, after that."
Everything about Flynn's tone and body language made it clear exactly what he had in mind for "after that". I smiled, leaning into him a little further, bringing one hand up to run it through his hair. Flynn's eyelids fluttered.
"That sounds like a great plan, Flynn. What time do you want to pick me up?"
"Seven?"
"Perfect. I'll see you then."
With that, I slipped out of Flynn's grip, shooting him a wicked smirk and wave before shutting the door on him.
"What the fuck?" I heard him yell from outside. I just laughed.
"I've got things to do before our date tonight, Flynn!" I called back, knowing he could hear me just fine through the door with his fae hearing. "If you seriously waited a month, I think you can handle a couple more hours."
I could hear him grumbling on the other side of the door, but I just returned to the couch and my waiting sandwich. After a moment, he called out again, loud enough to still be heard.
"Fine! I'll see you tonight then, sweetheart. Get ready for the night of your life."
I didn't respond, not least of all because I didn't trust myself to. If Flynn was all in, then so was I. And I absolutely couldn't wait for our date tonight, from the dinner to the drinks to whatever might come after.
