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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 1 month ago

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Witless Wednesday Thought

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff | Hot n Spicy Supersolider | Bucky losing his shit | Bucky defending you | Smitten Bucky | Smitten Reader | Language | Mutual Pining | Kissing | Happy Ending | Language | ~1k | Unbeta'd | Lemme know if I'm missing anything. A/N: I was working on another story when this tiny one sucker-punched my flow of thoughts. I scheduled it for yesterday, but that didn't work out. Anyhoo, here ya go! Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! I do not consent to AI scraping my work. GIF credits to the OP. Divider made by me. Check out my other works: Masterlist

Part of ♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

Indulge Away!

You'd never seen Bucky so angry, so enraged.

As a matter of fact, you barely saw any other emotion flit his face except impassiveness.

Sweet heavens! He was the most devastatingly handsome man you'd ever seen, too.

Normally, you would admire him inconspicuously, just like you did every day when he walked through your part of the office. But you snapped out of your 'Bucky delirium' for Wyatt's sake, who was currently being throttled by the supersoldier against the shelves.

"You don't call her that," Bucky growled.

Holy Shit! It took you a moment to peel your eyes away from that bulging bicep and clenched jaw to make sense of the situation.

One moment, Wyatt thanked you for resolving the system layout issue, 'I knew I could trust you, dawg!' Wyatt said, and the very next second, you saw Bucky throwing him against the shelves. You didn't even realize Bucky was there. He was so fast it made you question your senses.

Bucky must have misunderstood. As much as he'd adapted, James Buchanan Barnes was still a man rooted in a different era. Modern slang still tripped him, you figured.

"Please," you pleaded hurriedly, unsure how to actually intervene.

Wyatt coughed, stunned, his feet dangling as he struggled in distress.

"Bucky," you said, scared out of your wits. He looked down at you intensely, and you quickly took a small step back when you realized how close you were. As much as you silently pined loved Bucky and had imagined him doing wild things to you with that very same rage on countless occasions, you were, very realistically, intimidated at the moment.

"Please, Bucky," you whispered.

Bucky seemed to snap out of his trance as he blinked, his expression still rigid. He released Wyatt, who stumbled and fell to the floor.

Wyatt crawled away a little. Bucky stepped closer and sneered down at him, "Apologize. Now." He warned.

As much as you enjoyed your friend's sense of humor, Wyatt was so out of his depth sometimes, and you were sure his penchant for saying inappropriate shit would be the end of him. Because after all that just happened, he wouldn't shouldn't have said "Are you serious?"

Wyatt was a personality, alright! You tried your best to look at Wyatt, but Bucky's tall, broad frame blocked your view.

Bucky chuckled darkly, crouching down in front of Wyatt, who was still sprawled on his ass.

"Take a guess. DAWG," Bucky growled.

This shouldn't be funny.

This really shouldn't be turning you on as much as it was.

Wyatt finally seemed to realize the issue.

Fucking finally!

You wanted to explain that what Wyatt said was just an endearment, but the basic functioning of your brain had been fused.

"Look… I didn't mean…" Wyatt started, his gaze shifting to yours, and you must have looked like a stunned animal.

For the love of God, Wyatt! Shut up and say sorry! You thought.

"I'm sorry," Wyatt finally squeaked, trying to push himself off the ground when Bucky leaned further.

Bucky gestured toward you, "Apologize to her," he ordered.

Your heart pounded wildly. You hoped to stay upright and not fall victim to your dancing nerves.

"Sorry," Wyatt muttered, looking at you, and you felt terrified for him too. The poor guy was freaking the fuck out, and all for what, being cool?

"It's alright," you mumbled awkwardly. If not for the very adult feelings currently coursing through your body for the six-foot-something supersoldier, the whole thing might have felt like Wyatt was being scolded for pulling your pigtails on the playground.

When Bucky rose to his full height, you expected him to dash off. But he didn't. He stayed rooted in place, eyes fixed on Wyatt.

Wyatt, however, finally managed to peel himself off the floor, and he bolted in a jiff.

Good for him.

Not so great for you.

You stood there trembling, flushed, and utterly confused.

Bucky slowly turned to you, and the intensity in his gaze caught you off guard. You awkwardly shuffled back, lost your footing, and staggered. He steadied you, metal arm circling your waist and pulling you forward into his chest.

Goodness, Bucky was tall! He was so strong, all muscle, and smelled divine. The urge to nuzzle into his chest made you blush even more. Luckily, a modicum of rationality still prevailed.

But his eyes were so blue and beautiful you couldn't stop looking into them. He didn't avert his gaze either.

Bucky tilted his head and moved closer, studying your face while your brain buzzed and your ears rang.

"You okay?" he asked, his breath warm against your face.

It was totally unfair for a man to look the way he did.

"You with me, doll?"

That nickname in his raspy voice had your lips parting. Reminding yourself to respond, you put some effort into nodding your head a couple of times.

Noticing his eyes shift to your lips, your heart picked up, and you bit on your lower lip, feeling the pulse thrumming in your entire body. His tongue peeked out, quickly proceeding to lick his lower lip.

What was going on? Were you dreaming? But if you were, why did it feel so vivid? You fully expected to wake up on your couch like yesterday, with the TV running in the background.

Bucky slowly stepped back, removing his hand and taking all your sanity with his retreating touch.

"I..." Bucky began, running his fingers over his stubble and licking his lips again. You couldn't help but stare. His lips were so damn pink, and you really, really wanted to kiss him.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Your brain needed rehabilitation from Bucky Barnes.

"Wanna grab a coffee with me?" he asked.

You heard the words coming out of his mouth, you did, but you didn't quite process them. You just kept staring at him.

When you finally noticed the shift in his expression, his face falling and eyes apologetic, you cleared your throat.

"Coffee? With me?" That was a dumb response, but that was what your self-deprecating self came up with.

Bucky nodded, quite expectantly and hopefully.

"Okay," you managed to say, offering a small smile.

Bucky sighed in relief. Then he smiled, all shy and adorable, and you bet you could faint just like that.

Charming bastard! He was gonna kill you with his looks.

"Thank you," he said, grinning wildly. He felt overwhelmingly everywhere around you. Bucky shuffled, rocking on his feet awkwardly before nodding at you curtly.

"Right. Umm…I'll be here at 5:15," he said, and you nodded, though a bit too surprised he knew exactly when you clocked out.

Bucky took a few steps toward the door, and you stared longingly at his retrieving form. He stopped, turned around, and looked at you for a whole minute. His gaze transfixed you. Bucky strutted toward you and pushed you against the wall, both hands cupping your cheeks, making you gasp at the feel of them, at the feel of him.

"Sorry... I just..." he breathed against your lips, giving you a millisecond of space to push him away--you didn't. Instead, you rose on your toes, hands on his chest. Bucky groaned softly, pressed a gentle kiss to your nose, then tilted your face closer and captured your lips, tasting, nipping. The rough stubble scratched your skin sensually.

And somewhere in the corner of your mind, it became clear that Bucky Barnes, an Avenger, had no reason to stroll through the Technical Analysts' floor except for you.

Leave your thoughts if you enjoyed reading it. 💞✨

♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 1 month ago

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Tiny Winged Trouble

Summary: You’re only a few inches tall, full of sparkle and mischief. When SHIELD accidentally captures you in a jar, Steve and Bucky are tasked with figuring out what you are. You refuse to speak at first, until Steve gives you a cookie. Now they’re stuck with a clingy, stubborn fairy who calls them “Tree” and “Shadow.” (Steve Rogers x Fairy!Reader x Bucky Barnes)

Word Count: 1.1k+

A/N: It was either mermaid reader or fairy reader. Fairy was easier to write soooo… Enjoy! Happy reading!

Main Masterlist

You were caught in a jar.

A pickle jar, to be specific. It still smelled faintly of vinegar and dill, which you found personally offensive and not just because fairies are very sensitive to smell.

You were fluttering peacefully through the trees near the outskirts of New York when a group of shouting humans in dark armor leapt out from behind a bush and trapped you in what they called a “containment unit.” You didn’t know what SHIELD was, but their agents were very loud and very rough, and they didn’t even ask your name.

You sat cross-legged at the bottom of the jar, wings tucked in, arms folded across your chest, trying your best to look unimpressed.

And then he walked in. Tall, golden-haired, broad-shouldered, a man who practically radiated kindness and confusion in equal measure. Steve Rogers.

He approached the table with another man behind him, darker, quieter, haunted-eyed but alert watching everything. Bucky Barnes.

“I thought you said there was an artifact,” Steve said slowly, looking at the jar.

“It is,” The agent replied. “It talks.”

You gave the man your most dramatic eye roll.

Steve crouched beside the table, eyes soft, voice careful. “Hi there. What’s your name?”

You turned your head away and said nothing.

Bucky stepped closer, narrowing his eyes. “Do fairies sulk?”

You didn’t like his tone not cruel, just skeptical. So you stuck your tongue out at him and turned invisible.

Bucky jumped slightly. “Okay. That answers that.”

“Hey, hey,” Steve murmured, holding his hands up gently. “We’re not gonna hurt you, promise. You just surprised everyone, that’s all. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Still, you said nothing.

It wasn’t until someone walked by with a coffee and a chocolate chip cookie that you broke your silence. You reappeared instantly, pressed against the glass, eyes wide.

Steve blinked, then laughed softly. “You want one of those?”

You nodded furiously.

Five minutes later, the jar was opened and you bolted straight onto Steve’s shoulder, snatched the cookie chunk he offered, and curled into the crook of his neck like you’d always lived there.

You stayed close after that. Not that they had much of a choice.

You built a tiny hammock out of tissues on their bookshelf. Braided thread into their laces. Tried to “fix” Bucky’s grumpy face with flower petals and got scolded, very softly, for it. You called Steve “Tree” because he was tall and smelled like sap. You called Bucky “Shadow” because he followed you around pretending he wasn’t trying to protect you.

You refused to be studied, refused to go back in any jars, and made it very clear you’d chosen your new home: right between two super soldiers who didn’t know how much they needed something as strange and sweet as you.

Sometimes, you’d land on Bucky’s shoulder when he couldn’t sleep, singing soft, wordless melodies that reminded him of something in the past. Sometimes, you’d perch on Steve’s chest as he read, snuggled into the fabric of his henley like a kitten with wings.

You were tiny, fragile, ridiculous, and completely, utterly theirs.

Even if you still left cookie crumbs everywhere.

Steve and Bucky discovered quickly how particular fairies could be. Or maybe it was just you.

See, they realized you were much more stubborn than they had anticipated which caused another one of your sulking moods. It started because you weren’t allowed to use the microwave. Which, in your defense, made no sense.

You weren’t trying to start another fire, that was an accident. And yes, maybe the leftover spaghetti had exploded the last time, but how were you supposed to know that foil was banned? You’d never had a microwave before. You grew up in moss and tree hollows and warm sunlight. Your diet was dew, nectar, and whatever you could barter from passing squirrels.

Now, you wanted popcorn, but Bucky had said no. He had looked down at you with his arms crossed and that stupid I care about you and you’re being ridiculous face, stating, “You almost fried the tower’s circuits last time. Find something from the fruit bowl if you’re hungry.”

You responded with the most dramatic gasp you could manage and fluttered up to the top of the cabinets, crossing your arms with a huff.

Steve tried to step in, intervening gently. “He’s not trying to upset you. He just doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

You didn’t answer. You turned your back with your wings flaring slightly in righteous fairy fury, you refused to acknowledge either of them. Not even when Steve sighed and offered you a piece of shortbread. Not even when Bucky muttered something like “She’s sulking again, isn’t she?”

You remained a furious little sparkle, curled into a puffball of wings and pouting.

Hours passed. You still refused to come down.

They tried tempting you with cookies, with your favorite mug of rose petal tea, with one of Steve’s socks (which you always stole to use as a blanket).

Nothing. You were mad. And fairies, though small, are very good at holding grudges.

By the time night fell, you were still wedged behind a cereal box, curled into a mopey heap. And then… you heard a sound. Thump. It was a soft knock on the cabinet.

You peeked over the edge to find Bucky standing there, holding a tiny plate.

“I made popcorn. Not with the microwave. Just the pan.”

You stared at him.

“I didn’t put salt on it. Figured you’d want to do that yourself.”

He set the plate down gently on the counter, then leaned against it, arms folded.

“…You gonna stay up there forever?” He asked after a pause, tone mild.

You turned invisible.

He smirked. “Cute.”

Moments later, you reappeared beside the popcorn and began nibbling, still silent, still frowning.

Steve walked in just then and paused. “Is that a peace offering or a trap?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Bucky replied.

You muttered something under your breath.

Steve blinked. “Did she just call you a ‘grumpy tin soldier’?”

“I think so,” Bucky said, raising an eyebrow.

You stuffed a piece of popcorn in your mouth and glared at them both, cheeks puffed out like a hamster.

Steve crouched beside the counter, eyes warm. “Hey, no one’s mad at you, sweetheart. We just don’t want you getting hurt.”

You looked away before mumbling, “I wanted to make it myself.”

And that was the truth of it. You wanted to prove you could. That you weren’t just tiny and delicate and fluttery. That you could be useful, capable. That you weren’t always the one needing help.

Bucky leaned closer, voice quieter now. “Next time… I’ll show you how.”

You peeked up at him, suspicious.

“You can hold the lid,” He said, tone serious. “That’s an important job.”

“…Fine,” You muttered.

Steve smiled gently, brushing your wing with one careful finger. “We’re proud of you, y’know.”

You huffed, still pretending you weren’t moved before climbing into Bucky’s hand, wings drooping slightly from exhaustion and popcorn forgotten. You curled into his palm with a sigh, tiny fingers gripping the edge of his sleeve.

Still sulking but not as much. And this time, you weren’t alone.

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 months ago

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Why her? (Part V to Why me?)

azriel x rhys' sister! reader

angst/eventual comfort ( I mean did you guys really thing I would let them have a smooth reunion? cackles maniacally in the background**)

Summary: When you walk in on Azriel and Elain the mating bond snaps leading you to flee to Autumn with Eris so you can be free of Azriel. Your absence causes Azriel to come to some drastic realisations, but is it already too late and has your time in Autumn led to you moving on?

Parts I, II, III, and IV if you missed them!

You were a fool for thinking that Rhys would allow you to discretely come back to the Night Court after being away for so long and even more a fool for thinking that he wouldn't find any excuse to throw a party. The details of your mission had been classified so Rhys couldn't exactly disclose that it was a welcome home party for you, but no one in their right mind will question the reasoning behind a Night Court ball.

Rhys' extravagance extended to his parties and they were some of the most revered in Prythian. Even Beron, the grumpiest high lord who hates anything to do with fun or laugher, would look forward to attending, dragging his gaggle of deplorable children along.

You're going to attend the Ball with Lucien and Eris and then stay in the Night Court, marking the end of your time in Autumn. Autumn has always been a place of change. The leaves of trees are always flickering between shades of red, orange, and brown some falling and some staying without being enticed by the prospect of winter of winter.

You do have to say the eternal Autumn does live up to it's namesake. In just 3 short months you've been changed, well not physically, but the way you think about yourself and how you go about the world. You would have to find some way to thank Eris for that. You did the work, but he pushed you to start and showed you the way and in return you hope you had taught him how to not be so unbearably uptight all the time.

You would miss your friend, Rhysand would never forgive you for thinking this, but he reminds you of Rhys in a way. You smile at the thought of your brother's reaction to this accusation. He would huff and cross his arms, immediately disagreeing with you. You know Eris would do something similar. He will make a good high lord.

You continue to get ready for the ball, ditching your normal colour palette of blues and purples for a Night Court black dress with gold adornments along the bodice. You had to pay homage to your time in Autumn, but you are still Night Court. The way the gold snakes around reminded you of golden vines rather than the shadow-like designs you've been accustomed to.

You were related to Rhys and Mor, it was in your blood to go over the top with these kind of things. It was Eris' idea to add leafs to the golden vines to the dress and also Eris' idea to match his suit to your dress. Lucien thought that the gold and black designs were way too much for him, but you were able to convince him into wearing the matching cuff links. You knew what kind of message that you and Eris matching would sent to the courts and to a certain spymaster, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. If you wanted to match with Eris so be it who cares what they think?

Your thoughts begin to stray back to a certain spymaster, it had been 3 months since you'd last seen him and 3 months since you had found out that you guys were mates. The mating bond had become nothing more than a dull feeling in your chest and you don't even think you could tug on it if you wanted to. That is how far removed you had become from the bond, how far you have become removed from Azriel.

Azriel. You were still trying to decide how you would deal with him. Right now, you are leaning towards being polite to him when you see him and then dancing and talking with everyone else all evening in order to avoid his presence. You decided to not give him the amount of your attention that he has become accustomed to. You will set your sights on connecting with your family and friends; he, of course, will be included in that but only on a polite, friendly level and not on the all-consuming level of a mate.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. Eris walks in with a hand behind his back. His face is nuetral, but his eyes are almost solemn. He begins to speak, "It has been a long time since I've had the pleasure of being around decent company." Eris is not a sentimental person, so you understand that even this much is a lot for him.

He approaches you and his hand comes out from behind his back to reveal a gold necklace. It was a simple necklace with a gold chain and a small pendant on the end with a fox sitting on a moon engraved in it. He delicately places the necklace in your hand.

You smile up at him, "Thank you, Eris, I love it." You walk up to him and look in his eyes, the enemy of the Night Court that was somehow your saviour in this dark tie. You don't know how you repay him. You wrap your arms around him in an embrace and he freezes. He must not have hugged someone in a while because he immediately stiffed and then put his arms around you. If anyone saw this they would assume that this is proof that Eris Vanserra had a heart and that he needed to learn how to hug because it looked like you were holding him hostage.

Nevertheless, you got excited, he had never let you hug him before. He sighs, "You know you could just stay here, who else is going to look after the foxes." You thought back to the first day, you arrived in Autumn a complete and utter mess and in your drunken stupor had dragged along Lucien and domesticated a whole family of foxes. You had come a long way since then, when the fate of yours and Azriel's mating bond had been the only thing on your mind and the world felt tilted on it's axis.

Eris' voice interrupts your thoughts, "Who else am I going to terrorise on the daily?" You chuckle, "You will always have Lucien."

He lets out an exasperated sigh, "He's been much too boring lately. He doesn't appreciate my schemes." You let out an immediate retort, "Your brother doesn't want you to make an enemy of every court? What a pity." In all his spitefulness and maliciousness, Eris had been your rock lately and you don't know what you are going to do without at least a little bit of his mischief in your life.

Your eye strays to the window, and you look outside and see the trees swaying in the wind. The scene almost reminds you of a painting with Autumn leaves swaying in the breeze against the backdrop of a golden sunset. You had always believed the Night Court to be the most captivating of all the courts, you believed that nothing could rival the beauty of the stars that danced across the Night Court sky, but the golden Autumn sunset had you rethinking your decision. There was something about the warm, enticing glow of the Autumn Court sunset that had made you forget about the beauty of the Night sky that you had loved for so many years, but sunsets were fleeting and as soon as you began to appreciate the moment the sun had disappeared below the horizon it was over.

Sun disappearing below the horizon? By the Cauldron you were running late to the ball. You jump away from Eris and run to put on your shoes, "Loving this bonding moment we're having here, but we are running late and my brother will literally come here and drag me to the ball if we don't leave immediately."

He laughs and lets out a sarcastic, "Your command is my wish, Your Royal Highness of the Court of Night. Or is that not regal enough? Your divine goddessness-"

Yo roll your eyes and laugh. "Oh my god shut up Eris lets go." He drops into a dramatic bow and holds his hand out. You know he's trying to distract you from thoughts of Azriel, and you appreciate the effort.

He looks at you with sincere eyes, "You ready?" You answer right away, scared that if you give yourself a minute to sit and contemplate you're going to change your mind and run away like you did to Autumn. You nod, softly you say, "Ready as I'll ever be."

With that you take his hand and the world falls away as you begin to travel to the Night Court.

Azriel's a nervous wreck. He may be dressed for a ball, his usual leathers traded for ball attire. Azriel has never been one for especially opulent attire, Rhys has always been the most fashionable out of the three brothers, but he really wanted to look good for your guys' reunion. He had actually asked Mor and Rhys for outfit advice, which had left both of them speechless due to how out of character it was.

They dressed him in an elevated Spymaster's uniform, which was more flair than practicality. His tunic was much too tailored to be for fighting, and the cobalt cufflinks and designs would not help with blending in to the shadows. A useless outfit for spying or attending to any spymaster business, but a perfect outfit for a Night Court ball.

Mor and Rhys made him shave, get a haircut, even made him use this enchanted eye cream to get minimise the dark circles that were permanently etched on his face from all the sleepless nights in your absence. Mother knows how excited he was to see you. He had barely thought of anything else since he was told of your arrival and has thought of a thousand different scenarios of how your reunion will go. The last one involved you running into his arms and him happily spinning you around.

The remnants of your scent still linger in your room. Azriel would know, considering he's basically moved into it, but it's not enough anymore. Azriel needs more.

He's been pacing for nearly an hour, Cassian had become dizzy from watching him go back and forth for so long. "Brother, you are worried for nothing. You will see her and all will be well again." Cassian tries to assure him.

Azriel responds by walking over the counter and pouring a glass of whiskey. He stopped when it was about three-quarters of the way full. "Brother, I implore you to think about your decision." Azriel walks the glass over to him and Cassian gives him a smile. "See I'm proud of you, you made the right decision."

Azriel gives a small smile back and walks over to the counter. He then grabs the bottle of whiskey off the counter and presses it to his lips, beginning to chug the remnants. Cassian jumps up and runs to him yelling, "NO-"

The bottle was already finished by the time Cassian got to him. Sulking, he sat down and began to drink his own glass, scared that Azriel might come over there and down it too.

The sun was beginning to set over the horizon, which means the ball was starting soon. Azriel felt as though he couldn't breathe. He was a mix of excitement, nerves, and fear. His chest felt heavy in a way that he has never felt before and he half-contemplated jumping out the window and flying away and never coming back.

It was rare that Azriel would be the one freaking out and Cassian would be the one calming him down but here he was. His brother came over slapped an arm over his shoulder and was grinning at him. "You ready for what could possibly be the greatest evening of your life brother?" The way that Cassian was looking at him and the knowledge that you were going to be there made him almost believe that it could be.

You arrive to the gardens of Velaris, the site of the ball, with Eris in tow. To absolutely zero surprise, Rhys had spared no expense for this party. Fae lights swirled around the trees and plans lighting up the gardens while mage lights floated throughout the grounds lighting up in a variety of colours. The garden was illuminated in a way that made all the flowers glow, which was only enhanced by the full moon lighting up the sky. All in all it was the perfect welcome to the Night Court.

Azriel has never believed in fate, the idea of an entity controlling his destiny never sat well with him, he believes that he is the one in control of everything he does. He wakes up at the time he chooses, goes to the places he wishes, and will do what he wants. Azriel believes that fate is an excuse for those who fear action. The idea that fate will one day bring to you what you need, so why bother working for it had always bothered him to such a high degree. Azriel believes that he is the master of his fate.

If he is the master of his fate, why are his shadows screaming at him to follow them? Why is he feeling a physical pain in his chest from resisting the pull of his shadows? His shadows had only ever informed, but now they are commanding. They are a part of him and he is meant to have control over them, it's not supposed to be the other way around.

Their whispers had turned into screams and now the shadows were roaring at him to go.

Go where?

They say in unison. He takes a deep breath and tries to hone in on the where the shadows are trying to take him. The world becomes too loud, too bright, too overwhelming and he falls into the pocket of world that only he knows, the one where darkness is a comfort and shadow reigns supreme. The realm of shadow is both a veil and a comfort and under the light of the full moon, he closes his eyes and becomes one with the night.

He is led by pure instinct, letting the shadows carry him through the ever-surrounding darkness of the night. He doesn't know where he is going, but he knows that he needs to be there. Where there is he doesn't fully know yet, but he knows what there feels like. He feels like he's walking towards a comforting light.

He remembers a time in the Illyrian mountains when he was caught in a snowstorm. Devlon said the treacherous conditions didn't matter and made him continue to train his shadowsinger abilities. He took him up the mountain and when they were done with training, Devlon had an evil smile and had wished Azriel luck and winnowed back to camp without him. 12 year Azriel didn't know how to winnow yet, and he was left on the mountain by himself in the midst of a raging blizzard.

The conditions were some of the worst that Azriel had ever seen and he had no idea where he was. He was still learning how to fly, his late start due to his father, and he had no idea how to navigate back to your guys' home. He took a deep breath and imagined what he would come back to once he got home, and everything that he would lose if he didn't make it back alive.

He closed his eyes and began to fly as best he could. He thought of his your mother making everyone hot chocolate, like she always would on a stormy winter day. He thought of Cassian and Rhys fighting over the chair that was closest to the fire. He thought of you. You who would likely be sitting in your guys' spot, pretending to read your book while constantly looking at the door to see if he made it home safe. You with your warm smile and bright eyes, who would refuse to take your cup of hot chocolate Azriel was right in front of him.

He could see the scene as clear as day and feel the warmth and comfort of the cabin. Azriel didn't know how. He just felt it. He followed that feeling of comfort. He refused to die in this storm. He refused to leave you worrying about his whereabouts any longer. He flew and flew - the ice was freezing his wings, and the wind had increased the coldness tenfold. All he could see was white and all he could hear was the howling of the wind, but he kept going forward until he hit a wall.

Not a wall, but a door. He opened the door to see the exact scene he was seeing in his head. The scene that led him here. He had no idea how he got here with no visibility or sign of where he was going.

Rhys' mom had ran to him before anyone else could. His ears and wings had been covered in frostbite, and she immediately threw him into a warm bath. Once he got out, he went to the living room and saw 3 worried faces looking at him. Cassian and Rhys froze mid fight over the chair and you looked up from your upside-down book. He grabbed one of the four hot chocolates on the counter and sat next to you. He finally let out a sigh of relief. You had handed him a blanket and he finally felt at peace. Just the simple act of having you next to him had helped comfort him from all he endured that day.

That's how Azriel was feeling right now. Like he was flying through that storm again towards that feeling of comfort. Towards that feeling of home. He didn't know where his shadows were leading him at first, but now he has a good idea.

He gets out of the realm of the shadows and the first thing he sees is your back. You’re standing next to Eris at one of the entrances of the gardens of Velaris.

He’s hiding behind one of the hedges, contemplating if should go up to you right now or wait until you’re inside when you turn around.

He knows you had always been beautiful, but standing here in front of him with the backdrop of the fae lights and under the glow of the full moon you looked downright ethereal. His heart stopped and his breath caught. It felt like the ground beneath him gave out.

He took a deep breath and it was your scent that had permeated through the air and he felt it all. The feeling of comfort. The feeling of home.

He felt it snap and the world as he knew it came crumbling down.

Mother almighty you were his mate.

note: This chapter had gone very different than I originally planned, but it spoke to me and this is what demanded to be written besides who doesn't love a good cliffhanger. I do hope it doesn't feel rushed, but I feel like Azriel needs to suffer the way the reader did. Now he's dealing with a fresh mating bond and she's the one who's indifferent and he has to try to act normal and you know Eris won't make it easy for her. The next chapter is going to be complete chaos and I can't wait to see you all next time for it, until next time loves <3

note note: I may have lied about the whole editing thing, I'll go back and fix all the chapters...eventually...

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 months ago

Text

Why you? (Part IV to Why me?)

azriel x rhys' sister! reader

angst/eventual comfort (Now Azriel is in his healing era, don't worry he does suffer in this chapter so prepare for the azriel angst. You can't be in a healthy relationship when you are mentally at your worst and lashing out at everyone around you and Azriel is learning this the hard way.)

Parts I, II, and III if you missed them!

They say that misery breeds loneliness, or was it misery likes company, either way Azriel couldn't remember how it went but he knew he felt miserable and alone.

You were gone and Rhys had banned him from seeing Elain, even though it didn't matter. He couldn't even look at her without feeling crushing guilt. Guilt for considering killing your friend for the sole reason of him wanting to fight for his mate, which any honorable fae male would have done. Guilt for possibly driving you out from the Night Court. Guilt for dragging Elain into this and then ignoring her.

To say that Azriel has been a mess would be an understatement. After needing to sleep in your bed to calm himself down the night you left, he hasn't had a decent night's sleep. At this point, his dark circles had dark circles, he hadn't shaved, and he has basically been on autopilot for the past 3 months.

Him and Rhys hadn't been on good terms for the first month, but he came around and apologised for the way he spoke to him. They were civil, but Azriel didn't know how he could be close with him again after what he said. If you were there you would have played the peacekeeper, telling him what to say and scolding Rhys for his lack of sensitivity. He thinks about you more than he would care to admit, which is saying something because he's been admitting it a lot lately.

The first 2 weeks were so rough for Azriel that he threw himself into his work, not talking to anyone and even missing his training which he can't recall having ever done. He walked into the training ring and first thing Cassian did when he saw him for the first time since the night you left was laugh and say, "Oh brother, you look a bit rough for wear. You have obviously had better days."

Azriel didn't say anything. His face was set in the same straight-faced look that he had been wearing every day. He just walked up to Cassian and began fighting him. You would think that missing 2 weeks of training out of the hundreds of years wouldn't make a difference, but he had lost every single sparring match between him and Cassian. You would have loved to see it, you probably would have been on the sidelines laughing saying that Azriel needed to be humbled with his snowball fight record. His thoughts strayed to you and he was immediately snapped out of it by Cassian landing a blow on his right jaw sending Azriel to the ground."

"You seem distracted brother. I am always here if you want to talk." He holds his hand out as a truce, but Azriel doesn't take it. He was upset and in pain and feeling a flurry of emotions that he didn't know how to deal with. He picked himself up and told Cassian, "I appreciate it brother, but I don't need you or Nesta or Rhys trying to fix me." Granted he realised he was being a bit dramatic, but his adrenaline was high and didn't know how to deal with what he was feeling, let alone what he was feeling.

Azriel turns his back on Cassian, beginning to storm off from the training ring. "You think she would want you to suffer in Silence? To keep hurting everyone else because you're trying to outrun your problems? " Azriel stilled. "If she cared enough, she wouldn't have left. Why should I care about myself when she is so repulsed by me that she would prefer an enemy of the Night Court's company over mine?" His voice was ice that sending shivers down Cassians spine, this was the feared Spymaster of the Night Court speaking, not his brother.

"For someone who's job it is to collect information, you truly do not know anything." Cassian shook his head and took off into the sky before Azriel could say anything.

Great now that's two of his brother's that he's not on great terms with. Things with Cassian continued to be tense and since he was also on Rocky grounds with Rhys, things had become a bit awkward with Feyre and Nesta. Yes they were polite and would invite him to things and he would still have his weekly coffee with Nesta, but things were a lot more tense since they couldn't even bring up their mates.

No one in the inner circle would bring you up, not to Azriel at least. He knew they talked about you and Azriel, both in friendly hangouts he wasn't invited to and the family dinners that he had been dodging. He knew that they probably had a lot to say when the insomnia had gotten so bad that he needed to take residence in your room. He doesn't know the exact details because the shadows have been withholding information from him too. Just what he needed another person who had an issue with him, this one actually being part of him.

At this point he was on the best terms with Amren which actually started an unlikely friendship. He must have looked so pathetic for Amren to invite him over for tea. It started with talks of the prison, which then led to the inner circle, which then led to inner workings of the Night Court. Tea with Amren became a normal ordeal, she didn't treat him differently and was the same blunt Amren she's always been. It was a good distraction.

He wore the gloves you had gifted him regularly, even if his hands weren't bothering him, he liked the sense of comfort he felt when he wore them. He still felt a mix of emotions when he thinks about your departure, he's angry with you for leaving him here like this, sad because he feels like you have given up on him, and most of all feeling like he's an idiot because all he wants is for you to come home. To come back to him.

Rhys had assigned him on his first mission, a recon mission in the Dawn Court. Azriel had begged to go to the Autumn Court, to at least check on you and make sure you're okay, but Rhys immediately shut him down every time. It's a two week long mission and he was ready to go. The blade you gave him for Solstice had been left in your desk, since Azriel moved to your room. It was too special to him to risk damaging it, so he left it there but he feels like he wouldn't be doing your gift justice if he didn't wear it on his mission.

At this point it had been about 6 weeks without you. He took the blade from the sheath you had also had made for him and inspected it. The silver metal shone in the sunlight, and the blade was the thinnest and sharpest he had ever seen. Outside the silver edge of the blade there was a clear outlining that went all the way around the edges of the blade. He assumed this was the blood bind, so Azriel took the blade and sliced his left hand. The blood weld and the blade absorbed it, the clear lining turned red with blood and once it had decided that was enough blood spilled to activate the blood bond, the red turned into a shimmering black.

Azriel admired and then sheathed the blade. He turned and looked at himself in the mirror and almost jumped at the sight. He truly did look terrible, the beauty of the blade you had crafted for him a contrast over his current ragged state. Your blade. That you had made for him.

Azriel knew he hadn't been the greatest friend lately. He skipped the things you guys would usually do to try and get to know Elain better, his reasoning being you guys have already spent so much time together and would have so much more. He wishes he could go back in time and deck himself for even thinking that. He misses your coffee runs. He misses pranking Rhys with you. He misses laughing with you at Cassian being well Cassian. He misses your laugh.

He doesn't even need you there, he would take whatever small part of you he can and would happily thank the Mother for even allowing him that small respite. He's coming to realise that in the midst of his cruel and miserable existence, you had been the one ray of light in his life and that when the Mother decides that it's his time and he's nothing more than stardust scattered across the universe or the Mother decides to take her revenge for the sins he's committed in this life that it's the sound of your laugh that would carry him away. If the Mother was good she would allow him the luxury of scattering you with him, but ashes are plentiful and he only needs a single ember.

In the silence of your room, haunted by the ghost of your absence Azriel breaks. Tears stream down his face for the second time in this very spot and realizes that something needs to change, that he needs to change.

When Azriel returns from his mission, he knocks on Cassian's door. Cassian opens the door, his face is straight and devoid of his usual smile. "Are you finally ready to talk or am I going to have to kick your ass again and watch you storm off and brood some more." Azriel begins to feel shy, it is not a feeling that is common to him nor one he likes. This was already very hard for him, but he also forgot that Cassian was Cassian and he wouldn't allow him to walk in like nothing happened. Azriel knods and looks at Cassian with determination in his eyes, "I'm ready." Cassian matches his seriousness and then breaks down in laughter and brings Azriel into a bone-crushing hug. "I'VE MISSED YOU BROTHER." Azriel normally would have tried to get out of it, but he needed this.

Azriel sat down and told Cassian his problems. All of them. They started mid-day and didn't end until passed out after sunrise. He told him about feeling worthless and left out. He told him about you and how he doesn't know what he did or how to fix it but does know he's going insane like this. He talked about Rhys and how that whole situation had really affected him, Cassian had no idea and was so upset that he left for an hour or two and came back bloodied. 15 minutes later Nesta came in and brought him bandages and ice while telling him good job for putting Rhys in his place.

This became regular for Azriel. Him and Cassian would talk out all his problems one by one and he would actually try to do something to fix them. Cassian talked with Madja, and Azriel was now seeing her regularly as she claimed that "illnesses of the mind must be given the same level of attention as illnesses of the body." He started showing up to family dinners again. He apologised to Elain and told her that he couldn't go on with what they were doing because he wasn't in a place for anything right now and could barely deal with himself. She understood and was happy he was finally getting the help he needed. He told her not to wait for him and that it would be better for them to remain friends and she agreed.

Azriel began doing things for himself. He went to your guys' favourite bakery on the regular. He started reading all the books you had left on your shelf. He even started playing piano again, a hobby he had long forgotten, but only remembered because found his old compositions stuffed in a book on your shelf. He had no clue how you got them, he thought they were all thrown away, but nonetheless he was glad to have them.

Things were looking up for Azriel. The only thing bothering him was that he still didn't have you here or know why you left. No one would tell him anything and they would all shut down around him when you were brought up. Conversations would quiet, and topics would be changed. This confirmed the suspicion he had from the beginning, the reason you left was directly concerned with him.

While he was getting better, Azriel did have his ups and downs. His biggest down was the realisation that you had been writing to every single person except for him and Elain. The shadows had finally decided to start talking to him again and the first thing they had told him is that they caught your scent in the house. He flew like a madman from the other side of Velaris, getting there in record time. He searched for your scent, desperate to see you, when he found a handful of envelopes, all with your name and scrawl. The ink was a dark red and the lines were too thin to be from any of your writing tools. You must be using Eris' then.

This bothered Azriel so much he almost forgot the reason why he was holding these letters. He looked at who they were addressed to and saw every single Inner Circle member had received a letter but him and Elain. He put the letters back on the desk and waited to see if anyone would bring them up. Nothing. His shadows began to update him of their arrivals. You had been regularly corresponding with them and not him. Azriel was crushed.

Nevertheless, he continued with his routine. He saw Madja regularly, became close with his family again, and began to actually do things for himself. The process was difficult and so incredibly hard, especially for someone who had been bottling things up for as long as he had.

He's even been visiting his estate lately to see his mother, as she lives on his property. He avoids her when he isn't doing well, she's been exposed to many cruelties over the span of her long life she doesn't need to deal with more. Talking with his mother has really helped. Her warm smile could brighten any day. He's missed her lately. He has a bad habit of putting the ones that he cares the most about on the back burner, but he's working on it.

It's been 3 months since you left and Azriel is finally feeling better. He was at his weekly session with Madja. It was going really well actually, well it was going really well until she causally says, "And how do you feel about a certain princess' return to the Night Court?" She asked almost sounding like a child teasing their friend in front of their crush. Azriel didn't even pick up on it. His shadows stilled and his eyes went wide. You were coming back? Back to the Night Court? Back to him?

Madja looks at him confused. She tilts her head, "You didn't know?" He shakes his head no. He lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding and goes, "No I had no idea. I'm still the only one she hasn't spoken to." His tone bitter, but he caught himself and asked, "When is she getting back?" He hopes she'll just forget about his mini outburst just a second ago.

Madja looks surprised and Azriel is even more surprised at her confusion. She has sat here for the past few weeks hearing about him complain about your lack of communication with him, shouldn't she know that he knows nothing of this?

Madja goes, "You do know you have little shadow spies that listen in to all of your conversations?" Good to see that age hasn't dulled her sense of humour. How did he forget about that? Azriel shakes his head and goes,"Fair enough Madja."

She gives him a pitying look and sighs, "She'll come back. As far as your relationship goes, I would recommend talking it out in person. You both obviously have a lot on your minds, your relationship won't be able to move progress until you address this." Madja leans forward, like she's about to tell him a secret. "Now knowing both of you for so long, I can assure you that you guys will be fine. You're fond of each other and your biggest fear is losing each other, it's going to take a lot more than this to ruin you relationship."

Azriel looks at her agape. While this was fairly common knowledge, no one had actually sat him down and told him this. He assumed that you guys were fond of each other in the way he was fond of each of the inner circle members. Now that the dynamics of the inner circle shifted, they were all pairing up and finding their person. While you had always been close to Rhys, Azriel was the one you had usually ended up pairing up with in the end. Azriel had never come to this realisation, his entire life, he had been yearning for someone to pick him, only to drive away the one person who did.

Madja looks at him and he swears she can read his mind. She shakes her head and starts, "You were ready to die for her Azriel, when she was going to be clipped. You put yourself under the mercy of the old high lord for hundreds of years to ensure her safety and you're going to let your relationship fall apart because of what? A misunderstanding?"

Azriel stills, the conversation had escalated very quickly, leaving him speechless. He can't jump to conclusions before he even knew your side. He would talk to you and everything would be okay. It was just one big misunderstanding. It had to be.

He takes a deep breath and revels in his new found peace and clarity. The Azriel of a weeks ago would have angrily stormed off, lashing out at whatever unfortunate victim would check on him to make sure he's okay, but he's getting better now. He isn't anywhere near perfect, he is the same Azriel, but he hopes that when you get back he will be someone that is deserving to have you in their life without taking you for granted.

He takes a deep breath in and out. "Okay. When is the soonest I can speak with her?"

Part V

note: Azriel self-help arc time! Yes he did suffer for a bit and yes he will suffer a lot more so don't you worry, but I do think he deserves a little respite. He's coming to his senses... slowly. Thank you all for the support on this series I know we've hit a bit of a slow point in the storyline but there will be the reunion in the next episode which will be explosive one way or another so keep an eye out for that. Until next time loves!

note note: I probably will stop putting out chapters at this speed because I want to actually be able to edit them and the next parts are really important to the story and I do want to get it right :)

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 months ago

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Why now? (Part III to Why Me?)

azriel x rhys' sister! reader

angst/eventual comfort (Reader is in her healing era, finally being able to process the mating bond, growth may not always be exciting but it is very necessary )

Parts I and II if you missed them

The first few days in the Autumn court were dreadful to say the least. You couldn't open your blinds for the first day, couldn't open the blinds for the second, and couldn't get out of your room until the third. Being in love with Azriel and having to watch him pursue Elain was one thing, but finding out Azriel had been your mate this entire time and watching him possibly invoke a Blood Duel with one of your friends over Elain was something completely different.

Eris in all his cruelty had actually backed off and left you alone to sulk for the first few days. An enchanted tray of food that never goes empty was brought with a cup that magically replenished itself. You didn't even begin to process all that had happened, you've just been allowing yourself to sulk in your misery.

The shadow had tried to make sure you ate and drank, bringing you the cup and insisting you drink water to replenish the liquids you had lost from crying. You drank the water and then proceeded to launch the cup at the shadow which swiftly caught it and put it back on the tray. Even in your absolute misery, Azriel was still taking care of you and you hated him for it.

By day 3 your melancholy had been replaced with fury and you were angry. Angry at the Mother for putting you in this situation, angry at Azriel for not reciprocating your feelings or even noticing, angry at Elain for being so perfect.

On this day, you actually opened your door to allow in a visitor. The visitor was the fox you had initially chased down, and yes, you let it in so it could terrorise the shadow, but it was company nonetheless and provided you with some form of entertainment.

Day 4 you had sat in your room and stewed in your thoughts. Where did your feelings for Azriel end, and where did the mating bond begin, or had they been one and the same this entire time? Some cruel, desperate part of you contemplated telling him, only to see the hurt on his face when he realises the damage he has done to you. Another part, tells you that maybe he has known this entire time, but hasn't cared about you enough to tell you, or worse he cares so much that he can't reject you.

You wanted to hate him, but most of all you wanted to hate Elain. Sweet and lovely Elain, who was always compassionate and brave, but you didn't have it in you to hate her for being what you weren't. You couldn't hate her because she wanted a choice in who she gets to end up with, after everything she has been through, she deserves to be happy with someone whom she loves. The same goes for Azriel, and if that isn't you, you're going to have to find a way to make peace with that because you would never want him to be shackled to you by a mating bond when his heart yearns for another. Keeping him bound to you for any reason outside of his will isn't love that's a prison. You couldn't be the reason that he would be bound to another against his will, not after what your father did to him in the War. You could never do that to him, not matter how badly you wanted to be with him

The first time you had noticed something was going on between them is when you had been on a shopping trip with Nesta and Elain. She gravitated towards this one pair of sapphire earrings and had asked you how you think she would look like in blue, it wasn't her normal choice of colour, but she wanted to try it out. Alarms started blaring in your head, but you decided to think nothing of it not wanting to entertain the idea of her going after Azriel.

Then you saw Azriel gaining a sudden interest in gardening and spending time with Elain in her garden. He is allergic to pollen. He has always disliked gardens, they leave him with watery red eyes and an itchy throat. He would never take you to the gardens of Velaris, but he would tolerate them for Elain.

The final nail in the coffin was when he started to do all the things he would normally do with you with Elain. At that point you knew and you didn't need any evidence to confirm it. Yours and Azriel's coffee runs and bakery crawls became far and few in comparison to him and Elain's plant nursery trips and walks in the garden. When she came back gushing about how lovely the gardens of Velaris were, you had to leave the room and immediately head to training for the safety of yourself and everyone around you.

Yes you still saw Azriel every day. Yes you guys would still train together. Yes you were still close, but the it was never just the two of you anymore. It was family game nights, training with Cassian, or debriefs with him and Rhys. As second in command of the Night Court, you had many duties and threw yourself into your week to deal with this. You went on trips to Dawn and Day back to back when you first started realising that maybe Azriel's priorities were shifting and that maybe you weren't his number 1 anymore.

It was now day 5 and Eris has had enough of your sulking. He barges into your room, opens the blinds and yanks off your covers. "Get up. You've had your days to wallow in self-pity, it's time to get back to the real world and stop moping around . You're making the place very grim, you know." You could kill him. How dare he-

"I will set the bed on fire if you don't get up." How dare he? That bastard- "Move." You get up at the first sight of flames emanating off of his fingertips.

You assumed that you looked as awful as you felt. Finding and losing your mate will leave you caring very little about your appearance. "Give me time. I am going through a lot have patience-" You grumbled at Eris, pouting like a child.

The fire that had previously danced between Eris' fingertips was nothing compared the fire now flickering in his gaze. "I had patience 400 years ago when I first began to hear about this whole ordeal. I had patience watching you pine after this male for hundreds of years while you threw yourself into different things, whether it be family or work. I had patience when you lied to me a hundred times over, saying you were done with this." He swiftly walks up to you, making sure you don't shy away from his tough love that feels almost like cruelty at the moment.

He grabs you're shoulders, almost as if he was trying to snap you out of whatever trance you had been under for the past few hundred years. "My patience ran out the second he became your mate, and yours should, too. I refuse to sit and watch you fall apart over the prospect of a rejected mated bond, and I refuse to watch him kill my brother because he can't be bothered to deal with his own feelings and would rather die a martyr because he feels like he doesn't deserve to live out a happy life. You deserve better, and frankly, if you want to let yourself fall to his depths, I will let you drown. "

His gaze is cruel and unwavering, but you know Eris well enough to know that he is trying to bring out the worst feelings in you. All the anger and resentment and hurt to try to force you into action. It's hurtful but it fully might be working.

"I had begun to think that you abandoned the mask of a villain. Good to see you still have it in your arsenal." You respond cooly, just because you saw his point doesn't mean you were happy about it. Siding with Eris over Azriel feels like a betrayal in its own right.

"Fine. It appears that I've been so focused on him for so long, that I forgot to shift the focus back on myself. Now, what do I need to do to move on?

Eris' fox-like grin returned and you immediately regretted agreeing to whatever plan he was scheming up.

Apparently the key to dealing with a one-sided mating bond is focusing on yourself and becoming your own individual that isn't dependent on anyone else. Shocker.

Everyone says it, but it's like when you were sick and your mom would force you to drink this disgusting medicine saying it would make you feel better. You would fight her with everything you had to not taste that gross liquid and you would fail every time, immediately after drinking it all your symptoms are relieved and you end up feeling much better. It's a terrible feeling really.

Even though you had hobbies, you rarely did anything for yourself anymore. When Eris asked you what it was that you liked doing in your free time, you just kind of blanked and were about to respond telling him that you read a lot.

"Reading doesn't count. I mixed up our novels and I still cannot get the deplorable scenes I had read out of my head. I barely think it counts as literature at that point." You were about to offer a retort about how all forms of literature are valid and that you actually do read educational texts when an arrow came nearly flying at your head.

"First hobby we're trying, Archery." Eris says excitedly, much to excited for someone who nearly killed you. You look at him, appalled, "Archery? How is this going to help with anything?" He leads you around the hedges of his gardens to an archery range and hands you a bow from a storage shed that appears to house weapons. Where he got his bow from who knows? It's Eris.

"Trying new things is a good way to find out what you like and don't like. When was the last time you did something that put you out of your comfort zone? Besides, I haven't had anyone to compete with in a while, and Lucien refuses to play with me after I shot him in the shoulder." He says this so casually like he didn't shoot an arrow at his brother because he was probably winning.

"You don't have many friends do you?" You ask half sarcastic because really who is he spending his time with? "It's not my fault. I confused the red of his hair with the red of the bullseye, truly a mistake anyone could make." You send a prayer to the Mother to help you and to get Eris more friends to terrorise, so his focus isn't on you.

He shoots an arrow, and it lands perfectly on target. You guys go back and forth for hours. You struggle at first, but finally win the 27th game. You don't care that its' because one of the foxes decided to run interference by biting on Eris' pant leg. You will take the victory where you can get it.

Over the course of the next few weeks, you guys fell into a routine. You would begin to feel useless if you were just sitting in Autumn, not doing anything, so Eris put you to work. You would help Eris with his plan to overthrow Beron, actually doing your courtly duties and gathering intel from your spies. You would balance out the work with new hobbies that you guys would try because while you needed help shifting your focus back to you, Eris needed some fun in his life.

The next hobby you guys did was painting, which you were terrible at, and Eris excelled. Then baking, which you were surprisingly amazing at, leading to Lucien, who was visiting, getting into a sparring match over the last cupcake with Eris. You had to intervene and cut the cupcake in half when you saw flames being thrown. You accidentally exploded a lab during potions making which led to a temporary hobby ban. You learned how to sew, which Eris was terrible at as he kept accidentally poking his hand with a needle. Blowing glass, origami, gardening, curses, card tricks, candle making you guys had done everything you could name and before you knew it 3 months had gone bye.

Yes you still thought of Azriel, but the mating bond had gone from feeling like you had been stabbed in the chest to the feeling of a fly landing on your arm. Slightly annoying and you know that it's there, but if you aren't focused on it you weren't able to feel it.

After the first month, you had saved the shadow that followed you here from the fox's reign of terror. It had been keeping an eye on you, but it was giving you space. You wore it as a bracelet from then on, it was actually so nice having a little helper you could see why Azriel liked them so much.

You wrote to Rhys almost every day, missing your brother more than anyone. You guys even talked mind to mind whenever you both were free, which was not as often as you liked. He told you how things were and how everyone was doing well. He tiptoed around Azriel and Elain, not wanting to bring them up for obvious reasons. When Cassian heard that you had been writing to Rhys, he demanded to have a weekly letter as well, and when he told Nesta she needed to be included in his, which led to Mor finding out, which led to Feyre, and well, now you're regularly corresponding with all of the inner circle except Azriel and Elain. Amren will leave a sentence or two on someones letter if you're lucky.

You missed your family, but you're glad you left. In your time away you rediscovered an old passion of yours that had been long forgotten, learning. You were able to read and research to your hearts content, which you hadn't had the time or energy for in over 150 years. You are always so preoccupied on the things that you do know that you forget about how much there is that is out there waiting for you to learn. You learned about botany and even created a new type of Autumn maple tree that you planted on Eris' estate. You talked to one of Eris' healers when you fell of your horse during your trial with horse jumping and she told you about there is steal a lot to be uncovered in how fae magic reacts to healing and how the healers don't know why they can't heal certain wounds. Wounds that take longer to detect, illnesses of the body that slowly deteriorate it, unlike a swift arrow wound that one could easily see, were almost immune to magic relying on pure medicinal healing. While medicinal healing is a lot better than nothing, it was not on the same level as magic and could not always heal.

You read every fae magic anatomy book you could get your hands on, every healing book in the Autumn Court library. You even took a trip to the Dawn Court for a week to conduct your research with their healers. You guys actually hit a real breakthrough and the high healer of Dawn said she was going to meet with the other courts to discuss your findings. Nothing tangible yet, but it was looking good.

This leaves you right now, looking at a letter from Madja. She heard about your research and wants you to come back to Night and continue working with her. She says she has the resources to possibly find the answers you're looking for. You've had this letter for a while, almost two weeks now, and you have yet to respond. When you first got it, the prospect of even seeing Azriel again put your head in a tailspin. Then you realised, you didn't care as much as you would've. You have found a passion for something bigger than yourself, something that could help your court and the fae of Prythian. You've had your ups and downs and yes you have missed Azriel more than you have ever imagined, but you have been able to grow into your own person.

You're comfortable with yourself and being alone in a way you never have been before, always so preoccupied with the fear of Azriel not wanting you, you never questioned if you had even wanted yourself. These past 3 months had forced to you grow. You never considered what life would be like post-Azriel or post-when-you-find-your-mate, being alone was something you had equated to failing, especially when Rhys found Feyre and Cassian found Nesta. The idea of not having someone became a fear that was in the background of your mind. Now you realize, that it is okay to not have a mate. You can still have a fulfilling life filled with doing the things you love and being around the people you love. Just because your mate had found another didn't mean you had to fall apart. You had found the peace within yourself. Damn Eris and his ways.

You pull out a piece of paper and begin to write out your response. Your time in Autumn has ended, looks like it's time to go back to the Night Court.

part iv

taglist: @alimarie1105 @chaosabroad @bbontenswhhore @tele86 @ashblooddragons @circe143 @i-am-infinite @princesssunderworld @thestartitaness @tiffany-xx @cpfantasybooks @lucia-valentinaa @jennigsonl

note: This story is really going a lot slower than I thought, I think I'm going to turn it into a full-blown series now since I really want to do justice to this relationship. I know the chapter is a bit of an annoying self-help arc and is uneventful compared to the last two, but sometimes the key to finding a fulfilling love is self-acceptance. Thank you for all the support on this series I can't wait to see where this takes us <3

note note: I wanted to get this part out quick so it is unedited...

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 months ago

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Why him? (Part II to Why me?)

azriel x rhys' sister! reader

angst/eventual comfort (Buckle up bc this part is in Azriel's Pov after reader left him for Autumn. I swear the comfort will come eventually)

Part I if you missed it

Azriel has never been more confused in his long fae life. You guys have been perfectly in sync for hundreds of years, had seen each other at your bests and worsts and now it seems like everything is crumbling down and he doesn't even know what's happening. First, it had begun with his almost kiss with Elain, which Rhys had interrupted with probably the meanest thing he had ever said to him. Then, his shadows tell him that you're getting ready to leave for Autumn immediately without telling anyone.

He begins to tell Elain this when his first shadow, the one that had reached out to him in the depths of his father's dungeon, begins crying. He feels his shadow break away from himself and run to stop you from leaving. His shadow lets out a melancholic cry, unlike one he's ever heard from them. He feels the shadow's emotions, the panic and the fear of you leaving. You guys have never left for a mission without at least corresponding to one another.

He tells Elain that he that he thinks something is seriously wrong and he needs to see you right now to make sure everything is okay. He runs to your room and when he gets there, he sees it's already full of the rest of the inner circle minus Rhys. He watches as they go silent in his presence, each one a deer caught in the headlights.

The room immediately became thick with tension and he didn't know why. It couldn't have been because he brought Elain with him? He looks to you and you look almost sickly, trembling and heavy breathing with bleary, dull eyes that look drained of the life he had become accustomed to. Something was seriously wrong.

While Autumn had been one of the more problematic courts as far as diplomacy goes, it had been relatively stable recently. Beron's reign of terror has been suprisingly quiet lately. There shouldn't be any reason to send you there. Besides it wasn't a particularly safe court and Azriel would rather be sending 50 spies to their death than to put you in jeapordy.

The entire time he was in the room he felt that you had been off. For cauldron sake you had snapped at him when he had only been concerned for your safety. You don't do that. Well, not without reason of course, and he wanted to know the reason so he could fix it because that's what you guys do for each other. How was he going to do that when you wouldn't even look him in the eye.

It didn't help that he couldn't get a grip on his frantic shadow that was holding you down. It also didn't help that Eris appeared out of nowhere and whisked you away to Autumn before he could say anything. He was going to go after you when Rhys had shown up and told him to stand down. Rhys, who had said deplorable things to him about the Elain situation. But nevertheless, he choked down the hurt he had regarding his whole argument with his brother.

You had left so suddenly and now everyone in the room had gone quiet, the weight of your absence felt by everyone immediately. He didn't even get to give you your solstice gift.

Speaking of Solstice, everyone would usually stay up late drinking and laughing but the minute you left it felt as if someone took a bucket of ice water to every single person in that room. Rhys announced he was going to bed and everyone else agreed and followed. They said their goodnights in the most polite fashion, the way they would to a courtier not their brother on Solstice. Nesta dragged Elain away before she could retort that she needed to stay with Azriel.

All the warmth had seeped out of the room with your absence and he wondered if this was how it was going to be from now on without you. Although you hadn't been glued to the hip as you guys usually were, due to him spending more time with Elain he knows he would've noticed if there was something wrong. Deep down in his heart, as shrivelled and marred it had become, Azriel knew that something was seriously wrong and he committed himself to finding out what it was.

The spymaster is the perfect person to have been chosen to solve the mystery of your sudden switch up, and Azriel swore he would get down to the bottom of whatever it was. Him and Rhys have been vying in the competition of who knows you best for centuries. He decides to start his investigation by searching your room. Yes, it's technically an invasion of privacy but anything that puts you and your happiness or safety at risk is an emergency in Azriel's book.

He has his shadows scour around and nothing seems to be out of the ordinary minus the missing stuff you had packed. A dozen or so books missing, a quarter of your closet gone, and all the trunks you had in the closet were absent. You had packed a good amount of your stuff, enough to last you a month at the least and years at the most.

He begins to look for more clues, and he notices that you had left the stationary that he had gifted you on your 400th untouched on your desk. It started off with a simple stationary set with a gold-tipped quill and obsidian star-flecked ink, then when he saw your eyes light up he would find excuses to get you more ink and pens over the years. Now your giant desk is sprawling with different inks, wax seals, stamps, pens, quills, you name it it's there. You have never left the Night Court without at the very least the original set in tow. Even during the war, you packed the gold-tipped quill in your small bag.

Azriel's stomach dropped. He knew it probably wasn't malicious, and you had probably just been in a rush and had simply forgotten, but the idea that not even a small part of him was with you left an ugly feeling spreading throughout him.

He continued to look around the room and saw that you had left everything Azriel had ever given you. The training boots he had especially made for you sat worn out on the floor next to the bookshelf, which he now noticed only housed the books that Azriel had given you, which he had noticed was a substantial amount. The travel pack he had made for your measurements, since the Illyrian one's were quite large and heavy, was left on the floor with nothing but the first aid kit that he had requested Madja to make you in case of emergencies in it.

Azriel had spent countless hours in your room, but never realised how much he comprised it, but maybe that was because all traces of you were now gone. You took the jewellery that Mor had given you, books Nesta had lent you, even the blanket that Feyre had given you made from the Coat of the elusive WinterBeast. It doesn't even get cold enough in Autumn for you to use it. You even took the apron that Cassian sewed you the one time Nesta dragged him to a sewing class on date night. For Cauldron's sakes you even took the enchanted ruby ring that Amren gave you, why would you do that when you prefer Saphire. He had noticed that when you had left, you changed out your regular sapphire jewellery in exchange for the purple diamonds and starlight emblems that Rhysand had given you.

Yes they were Night Court family colours, but it was the first time he had seen you without any blue for a while. He didn't like it. You were a sentimental person and had brought pieces of everyone in the family with you, except for him and Elain. Maybe this was your way of protesting their sneaking around, especially with talks of a Blood Duel coming into play, but you have never outright avoided him before.

He continued to pace around the room, trying to come up with solutions and possibilities, when his foot hit a box that had been hiding under your bed. Perfect cobalt blue wrapping with a silver bow, Azriel knew he had just found his Solstice present.

Hiding Solstice presents from Azriel had always been hard work. The shadows would see and get excited and tell their master of the gifts long before they were wrapped and under the tree. You, however, were somehow the only one who could surprise him. You refused to let him find out, leading to you not even putting your present under the tree. He would receive his gift late at night when everyone had gone to bed, and the stars in the sky were fighting to stay up, the threat of sunlight imminently close. You would creep around in the shadows of him and steal leftover Solstice cookies and have your own gift opening either in one of your rooms or next to the embers of the fire that had been roaring all night.

Azriel had committed many atrocities in his life, his line of work almost required it. He didn't know what came after this life, and every day, he wondered if the Mother would even let him go on knowing all that he had done in this one. To go against the Mother was one thing, but to go against you was another. Azriel knew that he would forsake the Mother a hundred times over before he would forsake you. Even if this present was meant to be his anyways, you aren't here to give it to him so how does he know he can take it? But what if this present is actually a clue, and you purposefully hid it to spite him. You were still Rhys' blood, you guys can get a little petty at times.

Besides he did technically give you your Solstice present. Azriel always had an easy time with gifts, he listens in on conversations about what people want and gives it to them. While there is a lack of sentimentality there, everyone is happy so why does it matter?

But you always give the most thoughtful gifts, the gifts people didn't know they wanted but needed. He tries to keep up with you, but he just isn't sentimental enough to be good at those kinds of gifts. He gifted Elain a necklace, because that's what the jeweler said that women liked. For you though, he knew he had to come up with something big.

He came up with his gift months ago when Azriel had to go on a month-long mission to help keep the Spring Court from falling. When he came back, his first shadow darted to you, swirling around you happily. It had been whispering about you constantly during his time away and had only calmed down in your presence. It clicked for him, and while this shadow is the most important to him, the one that had reached out in the darkness when he was at his lowest, he knew deep down that it in some way it had belonged to you. Always preferring your company to his, always asking about your whereabouts, always calming down in your presence. He told his shadow and the shadow was elated the shadow came up with different ideas to always be with you, as a bracelet, in your hair, even as a part of your shadow.

While others had always been weary of his shadows, you treated them like a pet. Talking to them, petting them, and never missing an opportunity to call them cute. While the shadows are sentient, they are a manifestation of himself, and where others cowered in fear you embraced them wholeheartedly. It was probably the most intimate thing that Azriel had ever done for anyone he even had a mini speech written down about how grateful he was to have you in his life, but he never got to give it to you because you left before he had the chance. He didn't realise that the shadow had managed to escape with you until after you were gone.

You had just left but he missed you. The lack of knowledge of your return had him spiraling. He needed to know why you left because then he could know how to bring you back. In his desperation for answers and current lack of a better judgement he decides to open the present.

He rips open the cobalt wrapping paper to find a navy box littered with silver stars that looked like the night sky. He takes off the lid of the box and starts ruffling through the shiny paper you stuffed the box with, an extra layer of protection to block his shadows from seeing what was in the gift.

The first thing he had pulled out was a matching blade and sheath. The hilt was intricate, it started blue and bled into a violet littered with specks that he could only see after turning it over, pure starlight. The hilt had little stars and swirls engraved in it, an Illyrian design, but the actual shape of the blade and craft of the blade hailed from Dawn.

The blade of a Peregryn general was the sharpest and lightest blade that you could find in Prythian. The craftsmanship is a very regulated process and no one is able to get them. No one else is allowed to wield them and the blade dies with the Peregryn, they are blood bound. They are heavily enchanted and are basically a lifeline for any peregryn soldier. They only break when warding off a death blow.

There usually a bit smaller, no bigger than a throwing knife. He pulled out truthteller to compare the size and it was a perfect match. The matching sheath was gorgeous, all dark leather and intricate designs. More swirls of shadows and stars and little specks of blue and purple, a mix of you and Azriel.

He was aghast. He had mentioned being bitter about the Peregryn blades and made a joke about how Illyrians were the better winged fae in the past Mother knows how long ago, but he never thought you would actually be able to acquire one, let alone customise it to his liking.

He was touched, but he tried to suppress his feelings so he could maintain his control and continued to look through the box. The only other thing was a pair of gloves, but knowing you, they must have been a lot more than a pair of gloves. Also from the Dawn court, they had the same level of intricacy in their design and appeared to match the rest.

Azriel put a glove on and felt immediate relief. You knew that the cold would sometimes aggravate the scars on his hands and while he was still able to function for all these years, it wasn't comfortable to say the least. Azriel hated asking for help, he couldn't do it, so he has suffered in silence, enduring like he always does. You had these gloves imbued with a healing magic, from the Dawn Court, the court with the best healers in Prythian.

He knew that you had likely spent years crafting these gifts and working with blacksmiths and healers, calling in favor after favor, swaying high lords all for his sake. No one has ever done something like this for him.

His heart swells and then breaks. You had done all of this for him and now he had let you down without knowing why. You gave him a lifeline and he was going to waste it on a Blood Duel with Lucien Vanserra. He was going to waste years of work you had put into this surprise trying to take someone’s mate away from them, the very thing he had always wanted. Shame fills him and the thoughts begin to flood his mind.

The thoughts of how he doesn't deserve you. Thoughts of how he has failed you and will never be able to fix that damage that he unknowingly did. Thoughts of how you finally saw the faults in him like everyone else and you had decided that enough was enough and you decided you didn’t want anything to do with him. Thoughts of how he had lost the one person who had always been unconditionally there for him.

The thoughts just keep coming and he doesn’t know how to stop them. His shadows frantically swirled around him unable to deal with the distress of their master. Mental distress becomes physical and the weight of existence is heavy on his chest.

Azriel falls to his knees and holds his new blade, your blade, to the left side of his chest. He crumples in on himself and the shadows surround him. Wetness begins to stream down his face and he can’t even begin to comprehend why. What is this agony he was feeling.

His vision blurs, not that it matters since his shadows surround him and block the light. His breathing is erratic and his heart is nearly pounding out of his chest. His chest swells with emotion heavy as pain, almost as if there was a phantom knife lodged in his chest. He had never felt this way before, he was very good at keeping his composure but right now he was a complete and utter mess.

Trying to get himself together before he completely falls apart he’s able to prop himself up against your bed. Your scent immediately hits him and a wave of comfort rolls over him. Even in your absence you’re taking him down off the ledge. The minute he picked up your scent it was like he was finally able to think clearly.

He was emotionally and physically spent from all that had happened tonight, he needed the small comfort of whatever part of you he could get. You would laugh at him for this and scold him for not writing a letter, he would give anything for you to walk in and say something like how he’s a big illyrian baby who can never ask for help. You would laugh and stay with him until he feels like he can be alone again. You were meant to be here laughing with him and crying over how touched you were by his gift, instead he was here by himself crying because of how touched he was by yours and how he wishes you were here.

Like a child that just had a nightmare, he crawls into your bed and wraps himself up in the blankets and your scent. His body relaxed, his heart rate steadies, his breathing evens, and his shadows calm. Everything instantly feels better and what seemed like the end of the world moments ago now seems manageable. Your scent lulls him to edge of sleep and he drifts off with thoughts of you on his mind.

part III

taglist: @chaosabroad @bbontenswhhore @tele86 @ashblooddragons

note: I really tried to get this out in 24 hours so it may be a bit rushed and completely unedited... but thank you everyone for your support and thank you for everyone on the taglist! This may be a bit of a boring chapter, but I feel like it's necessary to flesh out the relationship between the reader and Azriel. Until next time!

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 months ago

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Why me?

Azriel x rhys sister! reader!

angst/eventual comfort (there will be 2 more parts to this series with an eventual happy ending)

They always said fate is a cruel mistress, but you never believed that to be true, until you saw Azriel about to kiss Elain on the night of the solstice. Fate had allowed you to survive all these years. Fate had brought you and Rhys, Azriel and Cassian. She and the mother must be scheming together to conspire against you because the minute you saw him with her you had felt something shift within you, and you knew that the mating bond just snapped.

After all these years of being Azriel’s closest friend and confidant. After the first few years after your and Rhys' mother first brought him home and you would sit in silence with him, keeping him company when he was too uncomfortable to speak much. After he almost got exiled from Illyria for slaying the men who were trying to clip your wings at camp. After he made a bargain with your father, the high lord, his lifelong servitude for your safety. After you decided you realised you were in love with him after you watched him give away his freedom for your wings.

After years of Azriel defying orders during the war to let you know that your brother and Cassian were alive. After he dragged you out of your depression after your mom and sister died. After watching him pine after Mor for centuries, while you pushed down your feelings. After him being the only thing that kept you going when Rhys was under the Mountain. After befriending Feyre and her sisters.

All you could think is why? Why me? Why now?

You run out of the room before they can see you, breathing heavily and rapidly with tears streaming down your face. The room was spinning, your body processing what was happening a lot quicker than your thoughts which were in completely disarray. You have no idea where you were running to, all you knew is that you had to run faster. Away from Azriel and Elain, away from this cruel situation, and away from this mating bond you knew you were going to have to eventually reject against your will.

You are about to pick up the pace when you slam into wall. It was not a wall, but Rhys’s chest. He's grabbing both your arms as you sink to your knees, unable to control your breathing. He tries to hold you up when you lock eyes with him and the only words you’re able to get out are, “it’s him. He’s my mate. And- he’s with-” You begin to hyperventilate on the floor while sobbing into Rhys’s chest, his arms rubbing soothing circles over your back. Rhys had known about your one-sided love for Azriel since the beginning. He was the one who had to stop you from killing your father when you found out that he had basically enslaved Azriel, the reason for your anger apparent to your overly perceptive brother. You told him to stay out of it then and he has tread lightly throughout the years, but you knew if it came down to it he would cut Azriel down where he stands for ever disrespecting you if it came down to it.

Despite the storm brewing in his violet eyes, his voice is soothing and comforting, “I’ll take care of it," he says. You hug him tightly, thankful for his support, but you knew in your heart you couldn't handle staying in the Night Court and seeing Azriel and Elain every day. At least not while the mating bond was still fresh, not when it had reopened old wounds that had never fully closed. "Rhys I can't be in this court. I need to go. Tell everyone that the situation in Autumn worsened and you needed to send someone to keep the peace. Tell them whatever you need, I just need to get out." You gave him a pleading look and he knew by looking in your eyes that you had made your mind. He gives you a solemn nod and just says, "Okay, but write to me if you need anything and don't be gone for too long. This is only a temporary solution. Use your judgement and be safe okay?" "Okay," you nod back and give him a hug before he starts angrily walking to go handle the Azriel situation.

You immediately winnow to your room and send a letter to an old friend calling in a favour. You quickly packed your things, getting ready to leave the Night Court until you can fully process this staggering new information. You close your final chest, when Cassian comes barreling through the door tears beginning to form in his eyes. "YOU'RE LEAVING WITHOUT SAYING GOODBYE?" The mother must really have it in for you today. You schooled your features into indifference, "Cassian I need to go. This mission is crucial for the stability of the courts." You try to make it sound believable, but you're honestly so overwhelmed and so exhausted that you end up sounding monotone. "But-" Nesta walks in and shushes Cassian. While you had initially been closer to Feyre, you and Nesta have recently grown closer even starting a book club together bonding over your love for trashy romance books. Nesta looked at you up and down. It felt like her eyes were bearing into your very soul. She gave you a knowing look and something akin to pity flickered in her eyes, "It snapped for you didn't it? He has no idea?" Cassian's eyes went from glassy and pleading to confused, he sat down, and you watched everything finally fall into place for him. He jumps up, wings on alert, "Oh my god. IM GONNA KILL HIM-" You and Nesta run to hold him down. "NO-"

Mor and Feyre come barging in, trying and failing to hide the disbelief written across their faces. They were followed by a sauntering Amren, who looked as unphased as ever. From the looks of it, Rhys had told Feyre via mind to mind, who told Mor while Amren had been in the room and of course had already known everything, as she always does. Great you had intended to leave silently and now the entire house knew about the predicament that you're in. Mor looks at you guilt written on her features, she slowly begins to approach you. "We couldn't let you leave like this without saying goodbye first." She hugs you and tears begin to well up in your eyes. Then everyone else comes in and it turns into a group hug. Even Amren begrudgingly joins. Too emotionally exhausted to say anything more you thank everyone and get ready to winnow to the one court you know Azriel wouldn't follow you to when a shadow frantically darts to you and holds your wrist down against your desk.

Where there is smoke there is fire, and where there are shadows there is a shadowsinger. You fight against the shadow, but it frantically circles itself around your wrist. Desperate to hold onto you, when Azriel comes in looking as frazzled as you had ever seen him. You nor Azriel had never left for a mission without saying bye or at least communicating to one another. This was a first and to say it bothered him was an understatement, he was frantic. His shadows were radiating off of him, rapidly swirling and darting around the room in a way you had never seen before.

You really didn't want to talk to him, but his shadow was preventing you from leaving. You didn't even want to look at him. It hurt. Everything hurt. Being in his presence was already a stab to the heart, but Elain following seconds behind him is what twisted the knife and put you in the grave.

It would have made it easier if you actually hated Elain, but you didn't. She was honestly a lovely, kind, and beautiful person and you could see why Azriel would fall for her. Which honestly made it so much harder to deal with because while you considered yourself to be all rough lines and hard edges, Elain was smooth and perfect in a way you knew you would never be. Not after everything you had endured in your long life.

The moment you guys met eyes, everyone else in the room had gone eerily silent a mix of not trying to look like they were listening too hard and a mix of not trying to give away what they now knew. You tried, you tried really hard to stay mad at him, but it's hard to remain mad at someone when the very fibers that make up your soul are screaming at you to be near them.

"Why would you just leave without saying anything?"The audacity he has to look hurt when he wouldn't have noticed you were gone if Rhys hadn't gone and busted him with Elain. Emotions swirl around inside of you, none of them good all of them lethal if you fall victim to them. He didn't know it but your relationship with Azriel was on a knife's edge and it was taking everything in your right now to maintain whatever composure you had left. As stoicly as you have ever spoken to him you respond, "It's urgent. Autumn could fall if I don't go and that would send Prythian into chaos. It's my duty to go." The air in the room stilled. You were a lit match, and his presence was gasoline; if he got any closer, it would not be good for anyone.

"You should have told me first. Autumn isn't safe, if you wait a few days I could accompany you and together we could-" Azriel frantically begins to rant. He's pulling on a lose thread, not realising what he's unraveling. You immediately shut him down, "No. I need to do this myself and frankly I don't need to disclose all my missions to you." He looks at you apalled.

This isn't the you that he knows, the one who can decipher what he is thinking from a single glace. The one who he can speak to without words as though it was a second language. The one who offers him peace when the world becomes too difficult to bear. The sharpness of your tone is grating and he begins to wonder how he was able to turn the one good constant in his life against him. His chest feels heavy with emotions he cannot even begin to decipher. Panic? Fear? Despair? So much despair. It becomes overwhelming. He is usually fairly good at compartmentalising his emotions. What in mother's name is happening to him?

You break him out of his downward spiral by clearing your throat and looking at the shadow currently frantically swirling and holding your wrist down like an anxious child crying and clinging onto it's mother anytime she's not near. The shadows had always been rather fond of you. A look of surprise and then shock coats his features as he appears to be struggling to reel his shadow in. Certain shadows have defining features, and you recognise this one to be the one that would always dote on you. When you and Azriel were kids and his shadows were far and few there was always one that favored you the most. When you're wings were almost cut off and you isolated yourself to your chambers, the shadow had stayed with you until you were comfortable enough to be alone. You hadn't been able to recognise it since you had never seen it this frantic.

"I can't reason with him. He's refusing to leave you." Azriel admits defeated. At this the shadow releases you and starts frantically swirling around Azriel, darting away from Elain when she reaches a hand out to try and help, and immediately comes to you and perches itself on your wrist. "Take it with you," He says sheepily. "He was always more yours than mine anyways. He cries in your absence and only makes himself known in your presence."

Azriel nervously laughs trying to get rid of the tension in the room, it was so thick a knife couldn't cut through it. The rest of the occupants of the room didn't look at him worried that their eyes would reveal to the spymaster the secret that was now only secret to him.

You don't care if he doesn't know how what he's saying affects you. All you know is that you're in pain. There are stories of fae that have been driven to madness by an unrequited mating bond, you had thought them dramatic but right now you can feel it taking a physical toll on your body. You need to leave. You have to go against everything your body and heart are telling you to run to him, to be with him, to never let him go. You have to chose yourself and whatever is left of your dignity. At this point you're fighting every emotion you have ever felt towards Azriel tenfold, praying to the mother you don't explode and cause irreparable damage.

"It's not your duty to look after me. I am well equipped to handle my own missions and I certainly don't need your shadow to look after me. So if that is all, I must now be on my way." Azriel's face is a mix of hurt and confusion, something you had not seen in all your years of knowing him. His mouth opened to say something to you, but Elain put a gentle hand on his shoulder and you had summoned every ounce of self-restraint you possessed to stop yourself from lunging at her when someone there was a burst of air and the smell of cedar and oak permeated the room.

"Am I interrupting something? Surely the Night Court's entire political standing isn't dependent on a lover's quarrel?" the biting tone matched the mischievous eyes and the fox-like grin. Elain looked like she wanted to explain herself when Eris looked her way and cooly responded, "Relax, what you do or don't do with my brother is none of my business, but I would at least give it a try before invoking a blood duel those aren't really great for pr. Not like you're court already has the best reputation as is."

Mor blanked. Elain hid behind Azriel. Amren and Nesta raised a brow. Cassian scowled. Both Feyre and Azriel straighted on alert and were about to take a step forward to take care of the intruder when he lifted a hand to stop her. "I kid. No one in this court can take a joke it seems." He would have been charismatic if he wasn't... well Eris. He held his hands up, although his smile remained and sarcastically said, "I am here on business to escort your wonderful princess to my personal estate to ensure her safe keeping for her time in Autumn."

While Rhys had always been scarily perceptive, he had met his match with Eris. He has been in the room for a minute, maybe two max and he had already begun to look for the cause of the tension in the room. His eyes scanned everyone, only halting once they reached the shadowsinger on seemingly high alert with Elain right behind him. He looked back to you and his eyebrows raised. He figured it out.

Azriel's wings fan out, casting half the room in shadow due to their span. "Why would you be her escort. We are perfectly capable here in Night to maintain the safety of the members of this Court." He was glaring Eris down, he might as well have been puffing his chest out at this point. Cauldron knows what he's doing or what he thinks he's going to get out of this.

You already knew Eris was going to toy with him from the glint in his eyes. "I believe it, but when my dear, old friend, who I hold in such high esteem, writes to me calling in a centuries-old favour, how could I refuse? Even without the favour, there are very few who can resist the will of the Princess of Night. She's as formidable as she is convincing as you would know." Good to see that Eris is still as calculated and provoking as ever. Now if Azriel had known he was your mate, Eris would be a dead man but right now he just stood there glaring him down with a look so cruel it sent shivers down your spine.

Eris just shrugged it off and rolled his eyes. "Well it was lovely seeing all of you but we must be going now." With a wave of his hand all your luggage had disappeared and he holds out his left hand to you. You give your family a curt nod, not meeting Azriel's gaze. You turn your back on them and take Eris' hand and then the world falls away.

The stars in Autumn don't compare to the ones in Night. It's hard to believe that it was even the same sky. The same sky that your family and Azriel are under right now. You're just realising now that you had never given Azriel your solstice present, not leaving it under the tree because you wanted to give it to him personally. Your mind begins to stray to a cruel place, questioning what if he had known all this time and didn't tell you to avoid having to reject you.

Eris snaps you out of your spiral before it can consume you. "Are you in the same situation as my brother or does he just not know he's your mate. Frankly, you guys should start a support group because I don't know which is worse." He says trying to lighten the mood in the most Eris way possible.

You feel weary in your bones from the exhaustion of the night and you lash out at Eris. "I know you weren't hugged enough as a child, but can you please refrain from the comments for one evening?" Your voice drops along with your demenour, "The bond snapped when I walked in on him almost kissing Elain. I needed an out. Thank you for being one Eris." Tears began to well up in your eyes. It was just too much everything was too much. Eris slings an arm over your shoulder and leads you to his manor. "Come on princess, I have hot chocolate and mulled wine on the stove and cookies in the oven. Well Lucien does but that's just semantics. You have tomorrow to cry over that overgrown bat and his emotional constipation."

The manor is a large cream Tudor-style manor with dark brown wood lining all the doors and windows. You walked in and were immediately hit with the warmth and the smell of maple cookies and cinnamon. For all of Eris' brashness, his home was very warm and welcoming. You saw Lucien pulling cookies out of the oven, his head snapped to you and he ran over to pull you into an embrace. You guys are practically in the same situation now; unrequited mating bonds really bring people together, apparently.

You just realised that Lucien is here, celebrating with Eris instead of in Velaris. You look to him confused and ask, "Shouldn't you be in Velaris?" He responds with an immediate retort and a raised brow, "Shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?" Touché.

Cut off by the sound of a cork popping, you guys turn to see Eris uncorking a bottle of wine. He then pulls out two identical ones, branded with the signature Autumn maple leaf. He then somehow fits a bottle each into his almost comedically large wine glasses, also adorned with maple leaves and foxes on the stem.

He brings over the glasses of wine handing one to you and one to Lucien. He raises his glass and goes, "Here's to us. When the mother challenges us, we laugh in her face and keep going. Here's to being misfits and outcasts and being so much better than everyone else." Half the time no one knows what Eris is saying, but you'll drink to it. Everyone in your family has found their mate or person and here you are on Solstice drinking a bottle of wine from a fox glass. How the mother has her ways, maybe fate bribed her to give you a harder time with the amount of times you've defied her over the years.

Solstice wasn't all bad. You laughed and drank with Lucien and Eris. Telling them the story of you and Azriel, drunkenly crying your eyes out with Lucien who responded with his own sad backstory. Eris looking at the two of you crying with a murderous look, when you forgot why you were crying and ran outside to try and domesticate a fox with Lucien on your coattails. You guys had succeeded much to Eris' dismay as he now had an entire den of foxes in his home. Eris only proclaimed it was bedtime when the sun had started to rise. He carried Lucien into bed first, who was much to drunk to protest. Then it was your turn, you insisted you needed no help but he got fed up and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

He threw you onto your bed and then paused, his eyes glued to your right wrist. You look over to see what had drew his gaze and were shocked to find a stowaway shadow hiding on your wrist. It was the shadow. Immediately you remembered why you were here and felt the part of your that was missing from Azriel's absence. You try shooing it away wanting to send it back, you don't want Azriel to know the state you're in or worse have the shadow tell him about the bond.

"I don't think he controls this shadow anymore. Maybe it's because this is probably his first one." His first shadow? What does that even mean? "His first shadow should have a connection with him on a soul-level. It's basically an external manifestation of himself in it's purest form unlike the rest of the shadows. The first shadows rarely show themself, since they're the ones who called the other shadows in the first place. Not much is known about shadowsingers, but if he's leaving you his first shadow I wouldn't give up hope just yet."

You are about to give a retort, but he cuts you off. "I didn't say don't move on and try to live your life for yourself. Just don't be too closed off when the time comes. Goodnight, princess. I hope you had a good solstice." Eris says as he closes the door of your new bedroom behind him and you drift off to sleep before you could think too much about his words.

Part 2

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 months ago

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Little Matchmaker

Azriel x reader

Summary: Azriel is on uncle duty during a visit to the day court and Nyx gets away.

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Azriel had fought in wars. He had infiltrated enemy courts, survived countless battles with nothing but his wits and his shadows. And yet—

Nothing, could have prepared him for watching over a toddler.

“Nyx,” he warned, his voice calm but firm as the little boy squirmed in his arms, practically vibrating with energy. “Stay still.”

Nyx—Rhys and Feyre’s pride and joy, the heir to the Night Court—grinned up at him, utterly unaffected.

“No.”

Azriel’s eye twitched. “Nyx—”

The moment he loosened his grip just slightly, the boy launched himself from Azriel’s arms and took off through the grand halls of the Day Court palace.

Azriel cursed, bolting after him. Rhys and Feyre had entrusted him with watching Nyx while they attended a diplomatic meeting with Helion. Just an hour or two, Feyre had said. He’ll be good, I promise.

Lies. Utter, blatant lies.

Because Nyx was not being good—he was running, his little wings flapping as he giggled, ducking under servants and weaving through columns with the skill of an Illyrian warrior. Azriel was fast, but somehow, this tiny, barely-three-year-old child was evading him.

As Azriel rounded the corner and skid to a stop, his chest heaved. No more pattering feet. No more giggles. Nothing. His shadows swirled in agitation, reaching out—searching, but then he heard it.

Laughter. Soft, melodic laughter, paired with a delighted giggle that definitely belonged to Nyx. Azriel followed the sound, his steps quieter now as he approached the open-air gardens. And that was when he saw you. Sitting beneath the golden glow of the sun, a book resting on your lap, Nyx curled up beside you like he belonged there.

The boy was grinning up at you as you traced a sunbeam over his tiny hand with your fingertip, your magic shimmering in the air.

Azriel felt something tighten in his chest.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused on Nyx as you murmured, “And here I thought I’d be reading alone today.”

Nyx beamed. “I like you. You’re pretty.”

Azriel bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as you gasped in mock offense. “You shouldn’t say such things to strangers, little prince.”

Nyx just shrugged. “Not a stranger. You’re nice.”

Your lips twitched. “Well, that’s very kind of you.”

Azriel finally stepped forward, clearing his throat. “Nyx.”

Both of you turned. And Azriel swore the world tilted slightly. Because up close, beneath the golden light of Helion’s court, you were—

Stunning.

Sunlight seemed to bend toward you, clinging to your skin like a second glow. Your hair shimmered with it, and your eyes—Mother above, your eyes—were warm and bright, like liquid sunlight caught in a bottle.

Nyx, utterly unfazed, looked between the two of you before grinning.

“I ran away.”

Azriel shot him a look. “I noticed.”

Then, reluctantly, he turned to you. “I hope he wasn’t bothering you.”

You shook your head, smiling softly. “Not at all. He was keeping me company.”

Azriel hesitated. He should grab Nyx and go—bring him back before Rhys sensed something was off. But something in the way you were looking at him, made him pause.

And when you tilted your head, sunlight catching on your cheekbones, and said, “And what about you, shadowsinger? Were you planning to introduce yourself?”

Azriel blinked.

Then—He smiled. Just a little. Just enough for you to notice.

“Uncle Azzie!” Nyx exclaimed.

Azriel chuckled, “Just Azriel”

You giggled, “Well Uncle Azzie, I’m Y/N.”

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 months ago

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🌊 ✨💖⚡☄if you're receiving this, you make someone happy💞🌊⚡💖✨☄go send this to 10 people who make you happy or who you think need cheering up.💞✨🌊✨⭐☄If you get it back then the better🌊💞💖⚡✨

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 months ago

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The Old Guard (2020)

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 3 months ago

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Your body must be rested and fed if you wish to be a pervert.

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 4 months ago

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the ebb and flow of fate epilogue

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five)

Cazriel x f!Reader

Summary: “Pure silence filled the room, and Feyre shifted on her feet, wondering if maybe she’d crossed a line.”

Warnings: illness, mentions of violence, death, & blood

A/N: I’m sad this is over, but I've really enjoyed writing it. thank you all so much for your love on this little series <3

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for this conversation. “When I die-“

“We don’t know -“ Cassian interrupted.

“Please,” she cut him off. “Just .. I need to say this.”

His mouth tightened, but he nodded.

“Don’t give up. This world still needs both of you,” she swallowed harshly. The tears had already come.

“And it doesn’t need you?” Azriel said, voice breaking half way through.

“The world doesn’t get a choice, with me.”

Cassian ran one hand through his hair, gripping hard enough she thought he might tear it out. “I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

She snorted. Azriel’s eyes narrowed, he didn’t find this amusing, not one bit, but he knew laughter and humor was one of her coping mechanisms.

“Do you think I want to die?”

“I didn’t say -” She held her hand up, and Cassian’s mouth slammed shut. Her mouth quirked up at the corner, well trained. Azriel rolled his eyes. She did hold both of their leashes, but he wouldn’t tell her that.

“It’s happening. I refuse to insult myself or the healers pretending otherwise,” she reached out her hands, palms up, and they each took one without hesitation. “If you want to be angry, do it when I'm dead or not looking. I’m the sick one, you have to listen to me.”

Cassian looked like he was about to disagree, thought better of it, and pulled her into his chest. “We’ll see who’s listening to who tonight,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair.

Pure destruction stood in front of him. A killing field. Some parts scorched, raw power incinerating everything in its path, others still coated with blood and mismatched body parts. There would be no identifying who had fallen.

Rhys would never be glad his cousin died, not in millenia, but he’s glad she didn’t have to see the war waged. She’d died weeks before it broke out, and triggered a deadly rage in both Cassian and Azriel. One the world might never see again.

They never missed starfall.

“You’ll still get to see me once a year.” She waved her hand towards the sky, about to say the most ridiculous love-sick words he’d ever heard, “I’ll be waiting for you, my spirit still traveling between worlds. We’ll find each other in whatever comes after, in the next life, maybe even shoot through time and space together.”

Cassian’s mouth quirked up at one corner, before he picked her up and spun her in circles until she flicked his wing.

Cassian braced his forearms on the railing, eyes fixed on the sky. “Which one do you think is her?” He didn’t need to look to know Az was right beside him. They asked this question every year, and each time came up with a different answer. He liked to think she was switching forms, maybe trying to play a joke on them, or play another game.

Azriel peered down in the Cauldron again, after pulling Amren out. He’d hoped, foolishly, that she might be in there too.

He knew Amren, even spluttering and catching her breath, caught his movement. Azriel tried to avoid her, but she eventually caught up to him and Cassian.

“She wasn’t there,” the sorrowful, almost pitying, look in her eyes pissed him off.

“I didn’t ask,” he said coolly.

“Maybe not,” she assessed him. “But there’s your closure.”

“What … what does it mean, she wasn’t there?” Cassian asked.

“It means her soul isn’t trapped in limbo.”

Azriel really, really didn’t want to speak about this, but Cassian kept going. “So she’s moved on?”

“No,” Amren said sharply. “It means she’s waiting for you idiots,” Amren really never missed the chance to throw an insult in there, “in peace.”

Cassian caught Azriel’s eye. In peace. It was a small comfort, like a bandaid stuck on a gaping wound. He knew she wanted him to move on, to go find his “peace,” but it was never the same without her. An empty space inside of him he couldn’t fill. For years, he avoided every reminder of her, did everything he could to drown out the screaming abyss threatening to tug him under. It took Cassian to pull him out, to knock some sense into him and tell him she’d be pissed off.

“Cassian and Azriel had a mate.” Rhys told her quietly. Feyre paused. The sorrow in his voice threw her off. Had.

“What happened?” She asked softly.

“She died. Y/n was my cousin, Mor’s younger sister.”

A part of her heart shattered. She hadn’t known he had another cousin, or that Mor had a sister. They never spoke of her. Feyre didn’t … she didn’t like that. Not that she hadn’t been told, but that they weren’t keeping her memory alive. Maybe that was unfair of her, all things considered she hadn’t been around them that long, and some wounds never truly heal.

“Will you show me her?” She let Rhys read the silent request in her eyes; I’ll make a portrait. Her mate swallowed, before giving a short nod.

Winter Solstice came, and to say Feyre was nervous would be an understatement. She’d decided to pull Azriel and Cassian aside before, not certain if they’d want a vulnerable moment like this in front of the rest of them.

She handed them two identical portraits, wrapped in soft paper.

Cassian shot her a grin, “Finally take up the offer to paint me in the nude?”

Feyre snorted, huffing out a laugh. “Open it.”

They both did. Pure silence filled the room, and Feyre shifted on her feet, wondering if maybe she’d crossed a line.

For the first time, she felt like she could see every raw emotion going through Azriel’s features.

Rhys had shown her a specific image, the three of them perched on the roof of the Townhouse, her feet swinging back and forth over the edge, a glass of wine in one hand. Azriel’s shadows subtly pinning her - keeping her from tumbling into the rose bushes. She leaned to the side, Cassian standing trying to snatch the glass from her - a wide grin on his face. Azriel watched from behind, amusement lining his features. An open emotion she hadn’t seen frequently from the male. Her mate had flown in, catching the perfect angle.

Cassian carefully placed the painting on the table - like it was made of pure gold, and wrapped her in a tight hug.

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 4 months ago

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the ebb and flow of fate part 5

Cazriel x f!Reader

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (epilogue)

Summary: Everything made sense, looking back in time. The pull she felt to them, beyond the bounds of friendship. They’d be the reason she tore all of her hair out, this entire damned thing was a mess.

Warnings: angst, illness, discussions of death, smut, minors dni

Word Count: ~3.1k

A/N: a short one, but I wanted to update this! It’s not over yet, I promise

“I thought you would’ve figured it out by now,” Cassian shot back at her.

Azriel watched as the bond snapped. Counted the seconds it took her to reply. Fifty six. Less than a minute for his heart to crush. Maybe it was his fault, for assuming it might fix everything. Still, an angry and dangerous hurt filled him. The type of hurt that would make him reckless, that would make him say and do things he’d regret, so he left. Left her and Cassian in some kind of stand off. Did it make him a coward? To turn his back and walk away? Maybe, but it was the safe option. The option to cause the least harm.

The weight of the last several months settled on him.

You deserve it.

Maybe she had a point. Even if he didn’t regret the things he’d done in the past, it had to balance out somewhere. Why would he deserve anything good?

Azriel sought out Rhys, he couldn’t handle Cassian right now, but he needed an outlet. Some way to get all of his anger and hurt out. His brother didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry, but stayed in the ring with him until they were both covered with sweat and filled with exhaustion.

It didn’t work.

Mates. Mates. Mates. The obnoxious voice in the back of her mind repeated. She wouldn’t lie to herself, they were telling the truth. Everything made sense, looking back in time. The pull she felt to them, beyond the bounds of friendship. They’d be the reason she tore all of her hair out, this entire damned thing was a mess.

Could fate throw a wrench in plans she hadn’t actually made? She should consider herself blessed to find two mates, but she never imagined herself mated this young. Not before her first century. They probably didn’t either.

Her mind drifted to the state of their world, of the impending conflicts constantly around the corner. Could she forgive herself if she ignored them? Ignored herself? Only to have it ripped away unexpectedly.

It was not the time to make a decision. A few weeks passed, and they all made careful circles around each other. Back to ignoring, thrown back to the past, and it was miserable. She was miserable. This wasn’t the past she wanted to be thrown into.

Azriel had turned his back. Azriel walked away. Again, like a gods-damned coward. Cassian left after she kicked him out. If she accepted the bond, is this what waited for her? Constant fights, turning their backs on each other, always falling out and making up, only for everything to crash down again.

Deep in herself, she knew she couldn’t go centuries without them, but she wasn’t sure she could handle centuries of that. Miserable with them, or without them.

It started with a barely noticeable shake in her hand, followed by increased headaches. Not often, but more than usual. It didn’t impair her life, not significantly, but it was enough to bring her to Madja.

The healer looked … contemplative, and worried. She knew it would be bad news, at this point she was just waiting to hear how bad.

“I need to look into it more.”

That’s the last thing she wanted to hear. A few weeks passed, and it was all she could think about. Even pushing thoughts of the mating bond aside. She’d given up on bugging Madja, who said she’d call her if she had any news. Finally, she received a letter, a summons with little detail, and burst out of the library as fast as she could, winnowing as soon as she cleared the wards.

“What is it?” She didn’t bother with a pleasant greeting, especially when she saw the look on her face. After working alongside her for a few years, she knew that one, and her heart dropped to her stomach. “What is it?” She repeated, lower this time. Madja motioned for her to sit, she obeyed, and the female took a chair across from her.

“It’s killing you.” At least she didn’t mince her words.

“Any more details?”

“It could be three years, it could be three hundred, could be a thousand.”

“Right,” she swallowed, tilting her head towards the ceiling, willing the tears away.

“We’ll find ways to manage it, I have more contacts to reach out to.” Madja continued, gently.

“Manage,” she repeated faintly.

“Have you told your mates about it?”

She winced, taking a breath to center herself. “We’re not on speaking terms.”

Madja clicked her tongue, “it could be three years, it could be three hundred, maybe a thousand. Do you want to live the rest of your life ignoring them? Is your grudge worth it?”

No. It wasn’t. She didn’t need to say it, Madja read the look on her face, returning it with one of approval.

Tonight. She would do it tonight, before she ran out of time. Walking back to the Townhouse, she thought of how she would do it. First step would be to get the two of them alone. Then … maybe just tell them she’s ready. She didn’t bother going back to the library, there was no way she could focus. Not now.

“What if we’re not ready?”

Each word sliced into her, carving her heart open for them to see. Her eyes shuttered closed, taking a few moments to trap the tears behind, to will them away.

All she could manage was a stiff nod, before making a quick exit - nearly at a sprint, if she’s being honest. She made it all the way out of the townhouse, winnowing down to the sidra, to a secluded spot near the river, before she broke.

Knees hit the pavement, gravel embedding in her skin, her hands cradling her head as tears flowed, leaving a salty taste on her lips.

“Thought I might find you here.”

Amren. For fucks sake. Out of everyone to find comfort in, Amren was at the bottom of her list, not that she wanted comfort or company. Right now, she wanted to wallow in herself.

A small, but surprisingly strong hand gripped her shoulder, yanking her back to her feet. Silver eyes looked at her with a mix of distaste and pity.

“What?”

Those eyes narrowed in warning, but she didn’t care. Nothing could hurt now, not as she let numbness take over, and let herself slip into that void without feeling, the inbetween state where nothing mattered.

“You’re all idiots.”

A broken laugh left her, one hand rubbing her forehead. She could’ve sworn Amren’s blood red lips curved at the corners, however briefly.

“Do you have any good advice?”

Amren ignored the sneaky barb, tilting her head to assess her. As always, it felt like she was stripping her bare, somehow staring into the dark depths of her soul. “The three of you need to drag your heads out of your asses.” She scowled, that wasn’t much better. “What exactly did he say?”

“What if we’re not ready?” she quoted.

“It was a question, then.”

“Not the way he said it.”

“You make too many assumptions,” Amren clicked her tongue, finger running across her ruby necklace. Giant, almost gaudy, gems. But, the ancient creature managed to pull them off.

Azriel was conned into picking up a tonic for Mor, who was currently acting like a child over her cough, but he didn’t mind doing it - not really.

He startled when he scented her there. After the conversation a few days ago, a question Cassian meant rhetorically, she’d disappeared before they could follow her, and had been a virtual ghost the last few days. They were ready, had been ready, but resentment still lingered.

Respecting her privacy would be the smart thing to do, but bits of her conversation with Madja snuck through, and his shadows investigated. They’d been restless. Wherever she retreated to, they couldn’t find her.

“I heard back from my friend in Dawn, she said she’d be willing to take a look, but she’s not sure she’ll find anything I couldn’t.” Madja sounded a bit disappointed. To look at what?

“It’s worth a shot.”

“Have you told them?”

“I did. They’re not,” her voice cracked, “ready.”

“Have you told them about your … condition?”

“No. I won’t, they’ll probably think I’m guilting them into it.”

“It’s not going away,” Madja said, maybe a tad harshly. Azriel had a sinking feeling he knew what this was about. “As far as we know, we’re not going to cure it, this is about management.”

“You’ve already said that,” your voice was dead, flat. “It would be nice to have a timeline.”

“Like I told you before, it could be three years or three hundred. We’re in uncharted territory.”

Azriel couldn’t handle it anymore, couldn’t handle being this close to you without speaking, and strode for the door, knuckles rapping against the wood.

Madja swung it open, raising her brows.

“Came to pick something up for Mor,” he said, but his eyes darted behind her - where you sat, head buried between your hands, forearms propped on your knees.

“I think you need to talk,” Madja said, and slipped past him, leaving them alone. She didn’t look up, keeping her hands shielding her face.

Slowly, he crossed, stopping to kneel in front of her, peeling her hands away. Eyes wide, brimming with tears slowly escaping, she asked “how much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

She tried to force a smile, and it failed miserably. Shock and realization set in as he looked at her, as he tried to read the swirling emotions on her face. He’d have to watch her die. Three years, three hundred, a thousand. Eternity didn’t feel like enough time with you. He’d be haunted by the knowledge that some day he’d lose his mate. As a result of all of their actions. Of something so fucking preventable, if all could’ve swallowed their pride.

She deserves someone better. Someone who hadn’t fucked everything up. Maybe it made him a bad person, a selfish asshole, but she was his. His mate, the person destined for him - sent by the Mother, the Cauldron, Fate, or whatever. Azriel wouldn’t let go of her, wouldn’t let her slip through his fingers again.

Cassian needed to know, but they needed to figure out a way to tell him without him slipping into a pit of misery and self loathing.

“Might as well tell him now,” she read his expression, the unsaid words in his eyes. For once, she didn’t protest as he helped her up, tugging her to his chest and winnowing to the Townhouse.

Cassian took one look at her expression, at the tear stained cheeks, at the grave look on Azriel’s face and knew something was wrong. Something beyond whatever happened earlier.

Poison. Side effects. No cure. Years or centuries. He didn’t let his eyes leave you as you explained, as tears streamed down your face - Azriel filling in the words where he could, admitting he overheard their conversation picking something up for Mor.

Beautiful eyes stared at him as you finished, waiting for him to say something. Anything. He’d never been great with words, so he stood, grabbing her and pulling her into a tight hug. Squeezing until she said she couldn’t breathe, and then only loosening enough for her to not suffocate, not willing to let her go yet.

“Madja’s contacting someone in Dawn,” he said, still holding on to you, “there’s still a chance.”

“A better chance at management,” she said into his chest. Cassian didn’t want to believe it. Between all of them, with Rhys and Madja and whoever else they could get in contact with, they’d find something. He needed to cling to that hope, to hold onto it as tight as he could. If he didn’t, he’d fall deep, deep down somewhere he didn’t know he could drag himself out of.

“You’ve hurt me, both of you. Turned your backs on me more times than I care to count. How do I push past that? How do I forget it? How do I trust you won’t do it again?”

It felt like she was asking for an answer, begging for some kind of reassurance, an example that would soothe that feeling and hurt.

“You don’t,” Cassian said. She frowned at him. “You let us prove it to you.”

“You still have nightmares, right?” She tensed, as if she wanted to avoid the question, and wanted to lie about it. Azriel raised one brow, shoulder swirling around his neck. She couldn’t lie to him, even if he tried to tell them to quit spying, they still kept an eye on her.

A muscle in her jax flexed. “Right.”

“Stay the night with us. Let us help.” Azriel didn’t phase it as a question. He needed to help. Every instinct roared at him to get her closer, to protect her from any threats - visible or not.

“You can come on your own feet, or over my shoulder,” Cassian threw a grin her way.

She chuckled, shoulders relaxing at the old threat - one used several times by Cassian. “I can handle walking down the hall. If I have a nightmare, I’ll come.”

“Save yourself the walk.”

They had one of their standoffs, each of them crossing their arms - almost in sync. Azriel pressed his lips together to hold back a laugh. It was so normal. It gave him hope they could build back what they had before everything went to hell.

She might accept the bond, but Azriel was smarter than to think that would fix everything. The trust they had, it might take years to build back up again. A challenge would be good for them. Sure, it might suck, it might be difficult, but he didn’t doubt they’d come out closer because of it.

“If you don’t relax, you’ll never sleep.”

“I’m perfectly relaxed,” she snipped back. It wasn’t completely true, actually it was mostly a lie. Something about sharing their bed now, with what she knew, felt different.

“Liar,” Azriel countered. At least she could always count on him to call her out.

Cassian ran a hand up her thigh, stopping where her night dress ended. It was a particularly short one. The first one she could grab before he showed up in her room. She’d intended to walk there on her own, but he’d come to throw her over his shoulder anyway, a playful gesture as she laughed and half heartedly hit the space above his wings.

“Need a little … help loosening up?”

Gods, his mouth was so close to her ear, lips almost brushing over, breath caressing her neck. She tensed for another reason. Azriel’s fingers tilted her jaw up. Hazel eyes searched hers. Do you want this?

Did she? Fuck, she really did. Yes.

A nod, not directed at her, and Cassian’s hand drifted, fingers dragging up the hem of the silky fabric, exposing more of her skin.

Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, Azriel’s finger tugged it free, brushing over it. His knuckles ran over her jaw, Cassian’s hand made its way up. She didn’t know where to focus, not as Azriel leaned in to place a kiss at the corner of her mouth, as Cassian gripped her leg, tugging it back over her hips, dress pushed up to her hips. Exposed. Exposed and nothing worn underneath it.

She heard them swallow at the same time, vaguely seeing Azriel’s throat bob in the moonlight.

Being touched by them was safe. This was safe, she emphasized to her mind, not giving it a chance to take over her thoughts, refusing to let it cloud her senses.

Cassian was teasing, fingers drifting around the outsides, never actually touching her where she wanted to. Azriel traced her cheekbones, jaw, collarbone, around the curve of her breasts.

“This is not relaxing,” she said through gritted teeth, pushing back against Cassian for emphasis. He let out a short breath, gripping her thigh instead. A low whine left her. Now he was too far. He laughed, and her cheeks flushed. “Are you going to make me beg?”

“Not this time,” he said, just as Azriel’s hand crept under her dress, pushing back up to pinch her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Two of Cassian’s fingers ran up her folds.

Gods, this was heaven. Why hadn’t they done this sooner? His fingers swirled around her clit, Az palming her breast now, switching back and forth between the two of them. How had she gone so long without this?

Swirling, pinching, flicking, pressing, the sensations spreading across her body mixed into one. Just one state of pleasure, of confusion and overdrive. She wiggled, arched her back, let out moans she didn’t have time to think about. Her thighs clenched as one finger slipped inside of her. Who’s was it? She didn’t know, didn’t care, as long as it never left.

“Good,” Cassian murmured, “let go for us sweetheart.”

You did. You screamed - loud enough a hand clamped over your mouth, one of them laughing.

Slowly, the one finger left her, and she missed it. Didn’t quite like the empty feeling left behind. But, she was distracted as the hand - it must’ve been Cassian then, crossed over her … to Azriel.

He met her eyes as he wrapped his lips around it, tasting her. Fuck. Just one hit, one taste, and she was in over her head.

“I want to … to you-” she babbled, words nearly nonsensical.

Cassian laughed behind her, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Another time.”

She pouted. Fucking pouted. Gods they’d really turned her into a mess.

“We promise,” Azriel pushed some of the hair back from her face.

“Feeling relaxed now?” Cass asked.

If she said no, would they do it again?

“If you lie, I'll know.”

Fine. “I’m relaxed.”

“Good, now sleep,” Cassian rested his hand on her stomach. Too appropriate of a place.

“How am I supposed to sleep after that?”

“Close your eyes, think sleepy thoughts. She elbowed him. He had some of the worst advice. He countered by pushing her towards Azriel. The male didn’t hesitate to roll her to her other side, now curving his body around hers, holding her tight enough she couldn’t escape if she wanted to. “I regret that,” Cassian muttered, but shifted closer, arm draping over her to rest on Azriel.

The three of them, curled up together, just how it should be. Fate designed it this way, the Mother put the three of them together for a reason. No matter how limited, she’d take whatever she could get.

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 4 months ago

Text

the ebb and flow of fate part 4

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part five) (epilogue)

Cazriel x f!Reader

Summary: She felt a tug, a thread like current weaving between the three of them, and shoved deep, deep down.

Warnings: injuries, nightmares, angst, a bit of fluff, depression, throwing up, drinking

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: I’m back ish! It felt so good to write again, this was close to finished before & I can’t promise when the next part will be out but I’m crossing my fingers for soon, I’m guessing there’ll be about 1-2 more

Cassian’s mad for several reasons. The main one being - she risked her life for him. Put herself in danger for him. He’s mad at himself as well for being … well, a complete asshole to her. But, right now it was easier to hold on to his anger than process any other kinds of emotions. Even if it’s not fair to her.

He gazed over at the sleeping form, brows furrowed, curled up tightly on her side.

His fault.

It's his fault she’s in that pain, in that state.

Assigning blame won’t help.

Won’t help a damn person.

The door creaked open, Mor popping her head in.

“Any change?” She asked, not bothering to look at him.

Another side-effect of the fucked up situation. His longtime friend, her sister, was pissed at him. Pissed at both him and Azriel, for reasons she wouldn’t disclose. Fuck, she only spoke to him when absolutley necessary - or to ask after y/n.

“No,” his voice was curt, tone sharp. Mor finally looked at him, her eyes narrowed as she took another step in, leaving the door open behind her.

“You can leave.”

“I just got here,” he leaned back further in his chair, crossing his arms, looking away from her burning stare.

“And you obviously don’t want to be,” the blonde snapped.

“When did I say that?”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I want to be here,” he said through gritted teeth. Mor let out a noise of disbelief, and he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. With Azriel, they’d agreed not to announce their bond without speaking to her first. Whether or not the others figured it out, was up to them.

“I do.” He insisted, still feeling Mor’s glare on him. The female left without another word, the door quietly closing behind her.

Cassian stood, dragging his chair behind him towards the edge of the bed. Everything about this was confusing. Frustrating beyond belief.

The door creaked again, and he opened his mouth to tell Mor to leave him the hell alone, but the scent of night mist and cedar hit him, and his mouth snapped shut. Azriel closed the door behind him, but didn’t move from it, leaning against the frame and observing them from afar. He tilted his head back, neck resting on the top of the chair as he looked at the ceiling. At this point, he knew every small swirl and indent of it.

His attention snapped back in front of him as a small groan sounded, finding y/n’s eyes heavily blinking, darting between him and Azriel.

“Another nightmare,” she muttered, and closed her eyes again. He couldn’t fight the small snort that left him. Apparently that’s what they were to her; a nightmare. It didn’t sit right with him, but he didn’t do anything to try and fix it. She could easily brush off anything he said as a delusion or hallucination. To him, there’s no point in fixing anything now, not with what Madja told them.

‘I cannot guarantee how much she will remember - if anything.’

Maybe that could play in his favor, confess everything he wanted to - and brush it off as one of her hallucinations later on. He shook his head, throwing the idea out of it. That was cruel, and he hated himself for considering it.

“Not a nightmare,” Az finally spoke. He knew she was still awake, but chose to ignore him.

Morning dew coating the moss soaked through her clothing, drenching her back and legs. Her eyes are fixed above her, on the clouds warping in and out of different shapes. She can’t move, can’t block out the images, can’t escape the thoughts circling inside of her mind. Cruel words whispered in voices so familiar, but just out of reach.

Even the clouds seem to be her enemy, forming arrows launching across the sky. Could they be considered clouds? As far as she knows, clouds don’t move like that.

Not real. Not real. Not real. She chants in her mind. Regardless, right now this is her reality. There’s a vague awareness behind her, that this will end at some point. All things considered, this one is rather tame compared to the others.

Thrown into her room, she cowers in the corner, wrapping her arms around her legs and tucking them in tight. Maybe if she makes herself small, they won’t notice. He won’t notice. They’ll finally leave her alone.

Heavy footsteps pound across the room as she squeezes her eyes shut, if she can’t see it - it’s not real. It won’t happen. Cruel hands tighten around her arms, another slapping against her mouth to muffle her screams -

“Wake up,” a voice says. Wake up from where? The males hands brand into her, his body looming over her -

“Wake up,” the same voice repeats.

An invisible hand tightens around her shoulder, shaking it back and forth. She glances down, but the hand isn’t there. Only the one tightening around her upper arm, the grip bruising.

“Wake up, y/n.”

Her screams are still muffled, her back slammed against the wood.

Gentle fingers run across her forehead, “please,”

Nausea whirls as she’s flung back into her body, an arm steadies her as she launches forward, clutching a hand over her mouth.

A bowl is placed in front of her, and she empties the contents of her stomach into it. Minutes pass, and she’s still heaving, her body pale and shaking.

“Get it all out,” the same voice says. One she can recognize now. A voice she loathes, mostly for the comfort it’s bringing her now, even the real hand that's rubbing her back.

As soon as she’s done, the bowl and its contents disappear, and she shoved the hand away, shuffling as quickly as she could to the other side of the bed, ignoring the pain shooting up her arms and legs, and tumbled out, barely catching herself on the other side of the wall.

“Gods-damned it,” someone cursed, and she felt their presence moving in the room, at her side before she could make it to the bathroom on her own.

“Go away,” she mumbled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“And let you fall on your ass?” Cassian muttered. That’s who the voice was.

“Yes,” she manages to say, even though each breath hurts. She groans again as his arm wraps under her knees, the other behind her back. In her mind, she can pretend she’s protesting and fighting him on it, but in reality she doesn’t have the energy to.

He deposits her in front of the sink, and hovers a few steps away like an unwelcome shadow.

“Fuck off.”

“A little gratitude wouldn’t hurt.”

“Why should I be grateful to you? You don’t have to be here,” her hands grip the edge of the sink as she glares at him through the mirror, doing her best not to focus looking at herself.

“Yes, I do,” he leaned against the doorframe nonchalantly, but she knew he’s observing every movement of hers, looking for any sign of weakness.

Letting out a large sigh, she cups her hands under the water to rinse her mouth out. A small toothbrush and toothpaste appear next to her, and she thanks the house for it. At least he doesn’t call out how her hands shake with each movement, taking a few tries to actually get the toothpaste on the brush.

A few minutes later, and she feels marginally better, some of her strength returning.

Y/n slapped his hand away as she made her way out of the bathroom, but couldn’t stop him from hovering behind her. His shadow covers hers, engulfing her completely as she makes her way back to the bed. The bed. Her damned prison now.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good,” he commented after she settled back in.

“And you know what’s good for me now?

“Quit putting words in my mouth,” his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, “I swear if you weren’t injured i’d -”

“You’d what?” Hazel eyes glared at her for the interruption. “Go on.”

“No.”

“Exactly,” she forces a grin, “you’d do nothing.”

His head tilts back, as if he’s praying to the mother for patience. Maybe if she annoyed him enough he’ll leave her alone.

She was finally in a state of somewhat lucidity, and all he’s getting is her attitude. At least her real feelings hadn’t changed much. Yesterday was a whirlwind.

“I think I love you both,” she sighed as Azriel ran a cloth over her forehead. He froze, his entire body going still. It was one of the times they both were in the room.

Azriel, to his credit, didn’t stop his motions.

“Sometimes,” she continued, “even if you’ve been assholes.”

She went on to reference something he knew hadn’t happened, and Cassian tried to think of ways he could forget those words. I love you.

It didn’t work, her soft and gentle voice had replayed in his mind the rest of the night. Void of the venom she usually spoke to them with.

“I thought we were mates at one point, but mates can’t hurt each other.” Y/n had convinced herself this was a hallucination, and didn’t feel any remorse for saying what’s been on her mind. Dream Cassian and Azriel had frozen and she let out a soft laugh. “It’s alright. This isn’t real. I’d never tell you otherwise.”

They exchanged a look, and she was impressed with how well her subconscious could mirror their real motions.

“At first, I wanted everything to blow over or to try and fix it. But now, it’s easier to be angry at both of you,” she turned on her side, propping herself up on one arm, face scrunching. Pain. She pushed past it. “I don’t know if I'll ever not be angry, but I heard that hate sex is enjoyable. Not that you’d ever touch me again.”

Cassian choked, and Azriel had gone still, shadows whirling around his shoulders.

“That’s not true,” Az’s quiet and cool voice said.

“That’s how I know this isn’t real” she let her eyes close again, “and thank the mother for that. I’d be mortified.”

“Anything,” she begged with tears streaming down her face. “Please.”

Anything to take some of the pain away. Azriel let himself hold her, let himself wrap an arm around her shoulders, lean her shaking body into him.

“I can’t,” he whispered.

“Why?” Her tear filled face gazed up at him, eyes full of betrayal, “why do you keep hurting me?”

“I’m sorry,” his thumb brushed away some of the tears, a gesture too intimate, but he couldn’t stop himself.

She turned her head away, “if you really were sorry, you’d help me.”

Her breaths evened out, sleep taking over her body again. Azriel wished it would mean she wasn’t in pain anymore, but the nightmares seemed to get worse as the week went on. Sometimes, she’d be frozen in place, body stiff and eyes darting rapidly behind her lids. Others, she’d thrash in the sheets so violently his shadows would intervene of their own accord, holding her in place enough for him to try and wake her.

“I’m so tired,” she told Mor. “I want it to be over.”

“It’ll pass with time.”

“I want everything to be over.”

Mor’s heart clenched. “Just give it time,” she pleaded, even knowing her sister wasn’t in her right mind. That this wasn’t how she really felt.

“It’s been years,” she whispered.

“It’s been a week,” Mor brushed away the strands of hair clinging to her sweaty forehead. “It’ll get better.”

“Everyone says that.”

“It’s true, Madja said so.”

“If Madja said so,” her hand covered her yawn.

“Get some sleep.”

Her head shook rapidly, even as her eyes grew heavy, lids closing. “It’s worse in my sleep. I’m alone.”

“You can try using your magic soon.”

Azriel watched as her eyes lit up, a small spark coming back - as if Madja’s words had somehow breathed life into her. For some reason, he’d insisted on being present as much as possible when the healer visited. If he couldn’t be there physically, his shadows would.

“Now?” The words were barely above a whisper.

“We should wait for your cousin.” Her head dropped, the small spark extinguished. “In case anything happens,” Madja added, even though she didn’t need to. Y/n would understand why. If anything got out of control, Rhys would be the best option to contain her magic.

“Step out with me for a minute,” Madja murmured to him as she crossed the doorway. A few shadows lingered behind to keep an eye on her as he followed the healer out.

The healer studied him with a startling intensity. A few decades ago, he may have been tempted to squirm under her gaze, but now it didn’t affect him. He’s used to being looked at like that - to being scrutinized with everything he does. Still, her gaze lacked the usual distrust present in others. Trust. That’s what he’d built with the healer the last two weeks - regarding his mate, at least. His mind had just become used to calling her that. There wasn’t any other word to describe it, really, even if she chose to ignore the bond once it snapped. That’s another thought he’d become used to - the very real possibility that might happen. He didn’t know if it would be him or her who would. But, he couldn’t stand the thought of her accepting it with Cassian, and not him. They hadn’t discussed that possibility either. Maybe neither of them wanted to speak the chance into existence.

“It may snap as soon as she has full access, it may not.”

She’s only repeating things he already knows.

“I’m aware,” he told her.

Her eyes narrowed at him.

“It may … undo some of the progress made. Her mental state is fragile.” He didn’t bother telling her he’s aware of that either, he’d witnessed it himself - either directly or indirectly, he always had eyes on her. Knew every word she’d spoken over the last two weeks.

Madja was hesitating to say something, so he prompted, “what else should I be aware of?”

“That’s all for now.” She was hiding something from him. In most cases, he’d figure it out in time. Azriel normally prided himself on his patience, but he’s found when it comes to y/n’s … health, he has little of it.

“What is it?” He fought to keep his voice cool and steady.

“I’m still looking into long term effects, although I don’t anticipate many.” Many. Meaning there still will be some. “Keep it between us,” she warned him.

His brows flicked up slightly at that, but he assured her he would, before slipping back through the door.

“It’s you again,” she huffed as he entered.

That’s how he knew she was lucid. The attitude and disdain.

“Thought you’d be happy, getting your magic back.”

“If it actually happens.”

Something pricked the back of his neck. “What does that mean?”

“You think I haven’t been trying?”

Azriel pushed down his anger. Most of it. “I don’t need to tell you how stupid that is, do I?”

“You lose your magic for a few weeks, tell me what you think.”

He’d experienced it temporarily, through ash arrows, but never to this extent. Still, sharp and perhaps distasteful words left him, “I think you’re being reckless.”

She blinked a few times, a type of haze coming over her eyes. “What if I never get it back?” Just above a whisper, like earlier, but this time filled with dread.

“Then you adapt,” Azriel said, much gentler. There was a very slim possibility of that happening, but he wouldn’t deny it completely to her. That’s what he’d always brought her, honesty, and he wouldn’t change it now.

“It’s like … missing a limb.”

There weren’t any words of comfort he could provide, instead he crossed the room and tugged her to his side. At first, she froze against him, but he ran his fingers through her hair, and slowly she melted, letting herself relax against him. Something he didn’t feel he deserved.

She didn’t lose her magic, and thank the gods because that would’ve snapped the last strand of her sanity. Sanity she felt like she was barely hanging on to at this point.

Although reality was distorted, some things were clear to her. Cassian and Azriel had been there the most, but she didn’t know whether or not that was by their choice. She didn’t want to know.

A month later, one particular nightmare hadn’t gone away.

She was in a town square. Not Velaris, but Autumn. Where her ex-friend lived.

“I told you I wouldn’t let anything come between us,” a haunting voice whispered, and their wings … her scream was guttural as two pairs of wings dropped, echoing on the stone.

Her hand covered her mouth, trying to muffle the remnants of the scream, before remembering the shield she’d put up for this reason.

She had to know they were alright, that they were alive. Logically, she knew it was just a nightmare, but couldn’t stay in this room any longer. She fled from the room like it was on fire, bare feet stumbling against the carpet, arms shoving the door open in front of her.

Two familiar scents and heartbeats in Azriel’s room. Relief flooded through her. It would be too much to barge into there, but at least she knew they were alive now. She retreated down the hall, instead bracing her arms on a window sill, taking in the full moon casting light over Velaris.

Her teeth dug into her bottom lip as she heard the door open, two pairs of almost silent footsteps approaching behind her. In the reflection, their eyes met. Both of them looked vaguely concerned.

“Just … needed to check you’re alright,” she offered an explanation. Not that she needed to, but it’s better than letting their imaginations run wild.

“Nightmare?” Cassian’s voice was soft and gentle. She hated his tone, hated that it comforted her. Words didn’t want to work, so she nodded.

Azriel didn’t speak, but held a hand out to her. Slowly, she turned back around, pinching her arm to make sure this was real. His eyes tracked her movement, flashing slightly in recognition but his body remained still and she placed her hand in his, his warm and calloused hand closing over hers.

Heart pounding and threatening to burst out of her chest, her rapid breaths warmed the air before her as they crossed the threshold. He pulled her towards his bed, pulling the covers back and gently pushing between her shoulder blades. Cassian climbed in on the other side. Said male wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her into his chest. Azriel’s body fell into place behind hers, as if this was the most natural position for the three of them. She felt a tug, a thread like current weaving between the three of them, and shoved deep, deep down. Like fate was trying to weave the three of them together, to mend and straighten something warped and misaligned by time and stupid decisions. An ache spreading through her chest, mind working overtime to try and figure out what the hell that meant.

“Relax, princess,” Cassian cut off her spiral, his large hand cupping the back of her head, guiding her to rest right where she could hear his heartbeat. Normally, the nickname was teasing - designed to get a reaction out of her, but now it felt gentle, a term of endearment.

A sense of calm overtook her, and her heart quit trying to explode, slowing to match his. Azriel ran soothing circles with his thumb, right above her hip bone. Her eyes shuttered closed and she fell asleep between the two warm bodies.

It had been a split second decision, and as Azriel watched them sleep, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Sleep was almost foreign to him, but watching them sleep peacefully, feeling her soft body pressed against his, was almost enough. Maybe he should feel jealous of how she melted into Cassian with a few words, her taut and tense body unwinding, but content filled that space instead.

They heard her stumbling down the hall. She hadn’t left the room for nightmares since … before. The footsteps paused for a moment before his door, before retreating. That’s when he knew it had been about them, whatever had happened in her sleep. They didn’t need to communicate with each other before leaving the room to track her down.

His only intention was to check on her, just to see she’s alright. Still, even as her hand reached out for him he meant to bring her back to her room, to close the door and leave, but as soon as her skin met his, he headed in the opposite direction.

Cassian hadn’t questioned him, hadn’t acted as if anything was out of the ordinary. The threads winding them together practically took on a life of its own as it sang with joy at having her this close, at having her safe between them. Where she belongs. He cleared the thought from his mind. Only if she wants to be there. Did she feel it too?

He wasn’t naive enough to think the nightmares would disappear because of their presence, and sure enough her body stiffened. Cass noticed and his sleepy eyes blinked open, meeting him with concern, almost asking; do we wake her?

I don’t know, he replied honestly.

Small whimpers left her. Not the sweet kind of her reacting to their touch, whimpers of pain. Cassian’s hand reached out, running his thumb back and forth over her cheek. Like he was some kind of instant drug, her body relaxed again.

Do we wake her? He looked at him again. Azriel shook his head, and laid down on the pillow, this time tugging an arm around her waist and bringing her closer to him.

Cassian’s mouth curved at the corner in amusement, but he ignored him and placed a kiss to her hair, taking pleasure in how she snuggled further into the pillows, one hand covering his own - holding it there.

She woke to warm sheets that weren’t her own, her back pressed against a warm body, another caging her front in. Opening her eyes might end this dream, might ruin whatever moment this is. Her nails dug into her palm, a small hint of pain running through. Real, this was real. She wiggled, trying to dislodge the arm slung tightly over her stomach.

“Stop,” Azriel’s said, his voice hoarse and sleepy. If that’s how he sounds in the morning, maybe she should try to sneak in here more often. But, she didn’t listen, and shifted her hips again. Something hard brushed against her backside. Fuck. The arm tightened around her, one leg crossing to pin hers in place.

“I said, stop.”

This time, she listened. Warm breath brushed against her neck, a sigh of relief.

Warm rays of sun peeked through the curtains, casting a glow on the bed. They rarely slept past sunrise. Actually, they never did, as far as she knew.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” she murmured quietly, not wanting to wake Cassian.

“I didn’t want to leave.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” Her pulse fluttered.

“Are you trying to kick me out of my own room?”

She shook her head rapidly, and he let out a low chuckle, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “How long have you been awake?”

“Long enough to hear you snore.”

“I do not.”

“You do,” Cassian’s sleepy voice said this time.

“Rude.”

Azriel’s leg released hers, his arm loosening enough to give her some room to make space between them. Reluctantly, she did so. Her eyes trailed to the clock. One hour until she needed to be at the library.

Limbs heavy, she sat up, pushing the sheets down to climb out of the bed. Cassian’s hand reached towards hers, before stopping, falling back to his side.

“Thank you,” she said, voice just above a whisper, and climbed off, pausing at the doorway, messy hair flipping over her shoulder. They looked at her, some expression she couldn’t read, and left. Neither followed her or said a word, she wished they would. Maybe she’s relying too much on them to make any kind of move. Still, it’s normal for friends to cuddle … right?

Ever since she’d fallen … ill, they’d changed. They acted almost like they had before, with an extra tension, and it was giving her whiplash. Nothing had been cleared, despite the ‘olive branch’ they’d offered, there wasn’t any discussion of the past. Instead, it seemed like they were avoiding the topic at all costs, despite her hinting towards it. Their temporary peace couldn’t last forever, nothing good did.

Since that night she ran into the hall, she hadn’t sought them out again. Mainly from fear they would reject her. Turn their backs on her. She wondered if they wished she would. Maybe she could test that theory, if she finally grew the courage to do so.

As always, they found a way to piss her off. Acting like they had a right to her, going as far as to scowl at any males that tried to approach her on their nights out. Any time she went out with her sister, they found reasons to be there, and she got into with Cassian one morning.

“We’re not together, quit acting like it.”

Hurt flashed through his eyes, gone as quick as it came. “Fine,” he’d replied, and left like a fire was lit under his ass.

She found herself regretting the words, but she felt an inexplicable need to build a wall between them. That she was getting too close to them. Making it too easy for them to rip her heart out again. She tugged down the top of her shirt, fingers grazing over the tattoo on her collarbone. They hadn’t released her from the bargain, although they easily could’ve. Was it from care? Or for something to hold over her head?

She watched in slow motion as a female pressed up on her toes, and planted a kiss right on Cassian’s mouth, her hands balancing on his shoulders.

“Push her away,” she pleaded to the universe. Instead, his eyes stayed open, finding hers as he wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer to him. She’d brought it upon herself, she supposed. “We’re not together, quit acting like it.”

If he wanted to play that game, she could too, and a fire lit under her.

His eyes flashed; your move, he seemed to say.

Watch me. She answered.

“Can you help me out with something?” She whispered to a female friend of hers.

Her eyes lit up, “I’m all ears.”

As soon as y/n had turned away, he gently turned down the female who’d kissed him, and felt a bit guilty as she scoffed and stormed away. Not guilty enough to do anything about it. His entire body had recoiled against it, screaming to him that it’s wrong.

But, she’s the one who clearly stated they’re not together.

He grabbed his drink, tilting his head back to let the liquid burn down his throat.

“It’s good to see her getting out there,” Rhys commented wryly. Cassian snapped his head to him.

“What?”

“Y/n,” he said too innocently.

He turned slowly and watched as she danced with a female friend of hers, hips slowly grinding against each other, arms twining around each other's necks. Then, their lips met. He didn’t think she’d actually take his subtle challenge.

Rhys clapped a hand on his shoulder. Cassian couldn’t force himself to move, if she wanted her fun - she could have it. He could play this game, even as it tore into him.

Apparently, Azriel couldn’t. The shadowsinger intercepted the two of them, tugging her away from the other female's embrace. Right, he hadn’t found the time to inform him of their … discussion, this morning.

A smirk crossed her friend's face. She’d done this on purpose, he already suspected, but now he had his confirmation.

Small fists beat against Azriel’s back as he stormed out, y/n thrown over his shoulder, her friend laughing in the background.

“Why are you waiting?”

He scowled at Rhys’s voice in his mind, but slid a gold mark on the counter, more than covering his tab, before following them out the door. Cassian had a strong feeling Rhys knew of the bond, even if he kept his mouth shut.

Azriel had paused in front of the building, waiting for him. As he approached, y/n was still spewing curses at him, her face slowly turning red. One of Azriel’s arms was wrapped securely around her thighs, holding her in place. There’s no way for her to escape his hold, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t trying. There’s a small shield around his wings, keeping her from using that to her advantage.

Azriel shot him a look, and he picked up his pace.

“Quit it,” he muttered to the female, his hand lightly slapped her ass. The surprise was enough to still her for a moment, letting Azriel snatch his arm and winnow the three of them to the townhouse.

Azriel finally let her down, and she glanced around them, noticing he’d taken them directly to his room.

“What the fuck was that?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he countered too mildly.

Oh, he was pissed. She shot a look at Cassian, she’d expected he would relay their conversation, but maybe she shouldn’t have counted on him for that. Azriel followed her gaze.

“And you, apparently,” the next statement was directed at Cassian. The other male looked completely unapologetic, crossing his arms and shrugging his shoulders.

“She made it crystal clear we’re not together.”

“Really?” Azriel tilted his head, fixing that searing gaze back on her as he closed the gap between them.

Against her will, her heart raced as he gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“We’ve never been together,” she managed to say. “You don’t have a claim to me.”

His mouth indented at the corner, but it wasn’t a smirk of amusement - more like barely concealed irritation and anger. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

“Excuse me?” She tried to wrangle her chin from his grasp, but he only tightened his grip. Instead, she looked to Cassian. A slight shake of his head, and she redirected her attention to Az.

“I won’t repeat myself.”

“Then explain.”

“If you can’t figure it out yourself, I can’t help you.” His hand dropped, and she missed the touch on her skin.

“How do you expect me to understand if you don’t tell me?” Y/n exploded, fists clenching at her side. He knew he shouldn’t have dragged her out of there, but he couldn’t stand to watch her there, in another's arms. Holding her how he should be.

Still, Azriel had waited so patiently for her to figure it out herself, he could wait a little longer. Apparently Cassian couldn’t.

“You’re our mate.”

The temperature in the room plummeted. Not literally, but shivers ran down her spine, goosebumps covering her arms. Her eyes darted rapidly between the two of them, forming some kind of conclusion.

He counted each second. Forty-seven, before she spoke. Less than a minute.

“Do you expect me to forget everything? To fall to my knees for you now?” She spit

He pressed his lips into a tight line, and prayed Cassian wouldn’t rise to the bait. He needs to stop praying and hoping where that male is concerned.

“I’d never turn down a chance to see you on your knees, princess.”

Azriel groaned.

“You’ll never see it.”

“Want to bet-” he caught the look Azriel pinned him with, and shut his mouth mid sentence. Y/n looked too pleased at the turn of events, but he couldn’t take that away from her now - not without making a bigger mess to clean up. She stormed from the room, letting the door slam shut behind her.

Fuck patience, fuck letting fate run it’s course, the truth is in the air now. He’s sick of waiting.

Azriel flung the door open, taking off after her, Cassian on his heels.

She tried to slam the door to her room on them, and he wedged his foot in between, forcing it wide open.

“Leave me alone,” she snarled.

“So you can block us out?” Cassian countered, shouldering past him to cross the threshold.

“You deserve it,” his heart thumped in his chest as she switched her gaze to him. “You both do.”

“What the hell did we do?” Cassian took another step towards her, forcing her to back up.

“I thought you were smarter than that,” she flung his words back in his face. She saw the hurt cross his face, looking vaguely like a kicked puppy. A small sliver of guilt filled her, but a vindictive anger overtook that - good, she wanted him to feel how they made her feel. Even if it was cruel, karma deserved to be thrown back in their faces. The bond may have snapped in her at that moment, but it took less than a minute for her to come to a conclusion. Like hell she’d lay down and make it easy for them, or for herself. It means nothing if she doesn’t accept it. That was a lie, she knew it, but if she repeated it enough to herself maybe she’d believe it.

They shattered her before, and she had to build herself back together. The temporary peace they’d hovered in was never going to last.

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 4 months ago

Text

the ebb and flow of fate part 3

(part one) (part two) (part four) (part five) (epilogue)

Cazriel x f!Reader

Summary: Then they looked at each other, some sort of silent communication passing before their expressions shifted back to neutral as they turned to examine the surrounding area. As they turned their backs on her, right when she wanted them most. A tear finally dripped down her cheek.

Warnings: injuries, blood, poison, references to past sa, death, angst

Word Count: ~5.2k

A/N: sorry this took so long!

She paced back and forth in her bedroom, wearing a track in the wood. Overreacting.

How does she fix this?

Wait. She paused. This isn’t her job to fix it. If they’re going to act like misogynistic, overbearing males and blame her for her sexual assault, she’s not going to give them the time of day. If they’re going to blame her for that, they don’t deserve her friendship..

Tears filled her eyes, as she turned to gaze at the mirror. Her hair was dull, skin pale, eyes almost … haunted. This wouldn’t do. A few deep breaths later, and she came up with a plan to get her life back.

You can explain it, a soft feminine voice whispered in her ear. It might have been Azriel who said the words, but she knew Cassian believed them as well. They betrayed her in their own way, and she wouldn’t run to them pleading.

If they really cared, they’d ask. She replied silently. The voice hummed.

Her mind came back to Azriel’s threat. Don’t leave Velaris. She could play by his rules for now. Maybe even take a bit of revenge in her own way.

She went out to Rita’s that night, reconnecting with a few of her friends. Lights flashed overhead as they danced, matching each other shot for shot. Thank the mother she has good tolerance.

That night, she took out a piece of paper and tried to focus her blurred eyes. Play by the rules.

One male looked at my ass for a secmpd.

A female tolded me i’m preeeety.

Is that a danermeous situatomn? According two you it isss.

She frowned down at the sheet. The words were barely legible, but he’d understand them. Play by the rules. A laugh left her as she folded the paper into fours, filled with messy creases.

She stumbled out of her room, kicking her heels off before she left, still wearing the short and tight dress from earlier in the night. Her feet carried her down the hallway, the world swaying as she walked.

She heard him, and slid the paper under the door, making her way back to her room as quickly as possible.

Azriel opened the door, spotting a drunk y/n trailing down the hallway, holding onto the wall. He knew she’d gone out, but how much had she drunk? He crouched and picked up the messily folded paper. Her scent combined with alcohol flooded through him. This couldn’t be good.

He closed his eyes after he read over the words. This is how she’s going to play. He should’ve known. A male looking at her ass. A female telling her she’s pretty. No threats, the bargain mark didn’t prick at him, but she was doing this to make a point.

“Fucking brat.” He cursed under his breath.

“Who?” Cassian asked from across the room, crossing to meet him at the door. He wordlessly passed the paper.

Something between frustration and amusement crossed the other male’s face. “We should frame this.”

“We’re not exactly on speaking terms with her.” They’d ignored each other for weeks now, and he knew Cassian was aching to speak to her - to clear the air and get back to their tentative friendship. But, she didn’t seem to give a damn. Going out of her way to avoid them, even training with Mor. If she wanted to play that game, he’d gladly participate.

She’s the one who all but broke their bargain. He doesn’t owe her any apologies.

Why didn’t you leave? His own words echoed, the broken look in her eyes took over his mind. She knows him well enough to know he didn’t mean that. He wouldn’t need to actually explain that, right? It could open up conversations none of them are ready for.

Weeks passed, a few more notes - none of which got any kind of reaction from his bargain tattoo. The male had only sent one letter - in response to a strongly worded one sent by Rhysand. A half-assed apology he didn’t let her see. It wasn’t genuine, and maybe she was better off leaving this in the past. Part of him questioned if he should be making those decisions for her, but he was busy enough with work he could push that down.

Two months had passed since the … incident, and she made her way down the hall. It was a day off for her, and she’d spend it out in the city, going through the various markets. Some fresh air would do her good - sun on her skin, and time away from the confines of the library. Her hair had some of its shine returned, her skin not quite as pale as before, and a bit of new life breathed into her eyes. She felt more like herself than she had in months.

Of course, she still missed the two Illyrians. But - they made zero effort to approach her, and she returned in kind.

She paused outside of the doorway to her cousin’s office. Three heartbeats. A new shield she’d experimented with hid her sound and presence completely, and their voices escaped into the hallway, clear as day.

“Why are you avoiding her?” Rhys asked. She should leave, right now. Eavesdropping couldn’t lead to anything good.

“Avoiding who?” Cassian hedged.

An exasperated sigh came from Rhys. “Y/n.”

“We don’t owe her anything. She’s nothing to us.”

Rhys snarled, she felt his power even from here.

“Azriel,” Cassian said in a warning tone.

Nothing. She left now. The damage was done. At least she knows exactly where she stands with them.

In her distraction, the shield dropped and her heavy footsteps echoed as she broke into a run.

Cassian whirled as he heard the footsteps. How had he not detected her approach earlier? Rhys’s power was still rumbling through the room.

“I didn’t mean that.” Azriel said quietly. But, she was too far gone to hear that.

“We need to find her.” Cassian fought to ignore the pure dominance rumbling from Rhys - the overwhelming power threatening to bring him to his knees. It abated, slowly.

“I don’t think she’ll want to see us.” Azriel countered.

“Tell me what the fuck happened between you.” Rhys all but ordered.

They exchanged a glance. “You know about the letters.” Rhys nodded. They’d only shown him what she’d hidden and he could put the rest of the pieces together.

“We … said things we regret.” At least he does, he can’t speak for Azriel. He’d seen her in the kitchen that day, and turned his back on her. There was more that happened Azriel hadn’t told him about. As much as he pushed, he was a stone wall - revealing nothing.

“Why haven’t you fixed it?” Rhys carefully watched both of them. His brother’s eyes were almost black, and he saw the tentative leash on his power, threatening to break free and destroy anything posing a threat to his family - even if it’s them.

“She hasn’t made an effort either.” The words came from Cassian. Suddenly, he felt … childish. Holding onto a grudge like this, foregoing friendship and something else that had built. He should’ve been the better person, to go to her and try and get both sides of the story - to let go of a stupid grudge costing him so much. Azriel was still quiet next to him. Rhys didn’t say a word, only studying the two of them.

“Fix it.” It wasn’t quite an order. “Before it’s past the point of return.”

Were they already there?

Alarm crossed Rhys’s face, eyes glazing slightly. His hand reached for the knife at his hip. He knew that expression - danger.

“She left Velaris.” Rhys stood, shoving his chair back. “Find her.” That was an order.

It had been months since the last threatening letter arrived - but immortals could be patient. A trap could be laying in wait for her, anywhere. Azriel was still trying to sniff out how they had eyes on her movements outside of Velaris.

“Any idea where?” Cassian asked.

“I’m locked out.”

He cursed under his breath.

“I have an idea.” Azriel sighed, as if the situation was a mere annoyance - a fly fluttering around his head. Cassian fought the urge to snarl.

“Be quick.” The worry in Rhys’s tone set him on edge. Azriel tensed as well, but grabbed on to his arm and winnowed them, traveling through the world through his shadows.

The sleeping mountains. She’d told them they’d been used for healing in the past, and explored them before as part of her research, he and Azriel in tow occasionally. A pit settled in his stomach. A sense, tugged against his consciousness. One he’d never heard before, a soft and feminine voice pleading; find her.

Clear mountain air filled her lungs as she winnowed to the first place she’d pictured.

A sparkling, turquoise lake lay before her - dipped beneath two peaks. A lake for healing. One of the few places she could find complete peace. Where her thoughts seemed to float away, worries became insignificant, silence became healing. She settled herself on the edge of the lake, watching the water ripple across, tossing stones once in a while. The dew from the moss soaked into her dress, coating her legs as she kicked them out, resting back on her elbows. The midday sun was a warm glow on her skin, pleasantly heating her body.

She tilted her chin up towards the sky, breathing in the fresh, clean, nearly untouched air. She let her mind drift, let the sounds of nature around her float in, acknowledged any thoughts - and let them go.

The temporary peace was bliss, weights lifted off her shoulders - she felt her body calm for the first time in weeks, maybe months. Almost like a drug, she was high on the absence of how her mind went quiet for once. No memories beating against her mind, rattling and tightening her throat.

Like everything, it was temporary as she heard the beat of wings. Loud in the way he was announcing her presence. The familiar scent hit her a second later, and her jaw clenched. Rhys had set up some way of notifying as she left the city. Boundaries, she needed to set some fucking boundaries.

He spotted her, propped up on her forearms - legs stretched out in front of her, the sheath of one knife. One. outlined under her dress. The midday sun set an ethereal glow around her, as if the light itself was drawn to her. Beautiful. She was beautiful, magnetic, and he hated how it drew him in. That wasn’t quite enough to abate his anger as he landed a few feet behind her, the slope set him a few feet above - towering over her prone form.

“I didn’t know you were this stupid.” Cassian seethed. Any earlier thoughts of mending bridges disappeared. Her fists clenched as she stood, slowly turning to face him, but she didn’t meet his gaze - her eyes moved behind and a ring of white shown around them. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. In the split second, before he could react, a familiar wave of magic, her magic, shoved him to the ground.

He was rolling, back on his feet - moving. He spotted Azriel landed ahead of him, no doubt his shadows whispering to him. It passed in minutes. Flashes. And it was over. They needed to leave now, the carnage and prisoners tied in front of them could be dealt with later. The archer, now dead, had come from the trees nearly one hundred paces away.

It took a few seconds for him to realize her magic hadn’t joined the fray.

A pained cry came from behind him and he swirled to see her, the tail of an arrow sticking out of her thigh as she fell to her knees. An arrow meant for his head. A string in his chest tightened, tugged, and his face went slack.

Look, a voice had whispered. Beyond. Not at Cassian, she knew that. Her eyes scanned the horizon, magic starting to curl under her skin, reacting to a danger she couldn’t see. Treeline - the leaves shifted in the opposite direction of the wind, a small zing - her magic acted on its own, shoving him to the ground as a blur shot through the air. There was no question about it, no chance she could let that happen to him. Not only because he came after her, but she physically couldn’t let harm come to him.

The ash arrow that would’ve gone through his head, lodged in her thigh. Magic left her at once, an empty stillness left behind. Azriel had landed as well, him and Cassian moving into action faster than she could think. Don’t look don’t look don’t look she chanted to herself, and palmed the knife sheathed on her thigh, a pained noise left her - it had gone right through the fabric and as she moved it she could feel it. Not lodged, directly through her leg.

A pained and pathetic noise left her as she fell to her knees. The wood was slick, not like blood - something thicker. Hands shaking, she reached her opposite arm across to try and grab the knife - cut the arrow and get whatever the hell it was out. Wrong wrong wrong, her body seemed to scream.

A hand gripped her wrist, Cassian’s face pale and raw. “Out,” she screamed, “I need it out.”

“Hang on a second,” he murmured, examining it. Her body was barely holding her up, but if she fell backwards it would only push it further into her - push whatever was coating it around into her bloodstream. Azriel was there as well, shadows swirled around her wound, examining. Two shields had surrounded her, tinted blue and red.

Magic ripped shredded through them like paper. She knew exactly who that was, it sung to her like a familiar sound - echoing the magic she normally could reach.

Her sister shoved Cassian out of the way, falling to her knees in front of her.

She bit the inside of her cheek harshly enough she tasted blood.

Azriel’s hazel eyes met hers as he stood behind her sister. Something like grief, pain, and a hint of anger flooded through them. The normal cold mask had disappeared, replaced by raw emotion she’d rarely seen from him. He staggered a step back - his eyes going wide, pupils blowing. His expression mirrored Cassian’s from before. Then they looked at each other, some sort of silent communication passing before their expressions shifted back to neutral as they turned to examine the surrounding area. As they turned their backs on her, right when she wanted them most.

A tear finally dripped down her cheek. .

They turned their backs, again. That pain was more than the physical. That pain struck deep into her soul. He’d meant his words. If a friend was so easily discarded, were they friends in the first place? She was nothing to them, just as he’d said. At least she knows exactly where she stands with them now. The air is cleared.

Mor’s frown followed her gaze - right at the two Illyrians, undoubtedly seeing the tears filling her eyes. She turned to her sister and saw the questioning look on the blonde’s face. She shook her head. Not here, not now, not ever. The last few months proved she didn’t need them. Want is different than need, and want she can overcome. As soon as she was well, she’d drag her sister back in the training ring. Luck or fate had him there in the nick of time, but she couldn’t rely on that.

Mor had cut through part of the arrow with her magic - her hand now reaching to slide the arrow out, instinct guided her and she snatched Mor’s wrist.

“Don’t touch it,” she snarled.

“It needs to come out,” She replied, expression cautious. Gods, she wants it out … but a sense, something tickling at the back of her neck, tells her it’s a bad idea.

“Pois-” she tried to force air into her lungs, tried to override the panic, but her sister's eyes had widened in understanding. Had the arrow been intended for her? Or designed to down whoever was in her path?

“Just nod or shake your head,” Mor said softly. “Can you feel your magic?”

A shake of her head. Mor’s mouth tightened and a small shield surrounded the wound - even as her sister’s magic seemed to recoil against it.

Cassian had to turn away from her, had to dig up every semblance of self control he could muster. The bond snapped for him and Azriel at the same moment - but he could see it in her eyes, it hadn’t for her. If he didn’t turn away right then, he would’ve done something abnormally stupid. Maybe Mor knew, because a shield had thrown up around the two of them, blocking out all sound and access. It’s likely Rhys was the only person who could break that down, or tear it away. Sometimes he forgot just how much power Mor has, of what the female was capable of.

Rhys winnowed in, with a few quiet words he’d explained what he saw. Azriel stood next to them, one eye on the males still unconscious and bound a few paces away. They turned back in time to feel Mor’s shield drop. She met their eyes - and he could read the panic as clear as day. Her brown eyes glazed for a moment, before she winnowed out.

“What?” He demanded. Rhys paused. Azriel had gone stiff next to him.

“Some kind of poison.” He said under his breath and winnowed. Take care of this. House of Wind he spoke into their minds. Another clear order.

She awoke to her sister pacing at the foot of the bed, burning a hole in her carpet. Y/n was laid on her side, arrow still poking from her thigh.

“Don’t touch it.” Mor said, spotting her hand reaching for it. She withdrew it quickly, tucking her hand up into her chest.

Normally, her sister's anxiety would increase her panic, but this time she calmed, like she needed to be the strong one now. Rhys came back with Madja, and she forced herself, promised herself she would keep her mind steady and centered. The lack of magic felt like a missing limb.

The healer hovered over her, magic running different diagnostics as she asked questions she could barely answer. Mor explained what she could, still moving back and forth.

“Good call.” Madja said to y/n, “keeping it in place.” She smiled weakly at the praise.

“Getting the poison,” Rhys flinched at the word. Madja hadn’t explained exactly what it was yet, and probably for good reason, “is going to hurt.” Like hell. Her eyes had a silent question, do you want them here? She gave a slight shake of her head.

Madja turned to them. “Both of you out. Keep a shield around here. Do not enter until I say so.” Their faces tightened, but they didn’t dare question her, only shooting a nervous glance to y/n. She nodded at them, looking more confident than she felt.

“I can’t use any pain relief,” Madja talked her through it. She had spent hours watching the healer before. “I don’t know how it will interact.”

“Do you know what it is?” her voice was hoarse and each word hurt like hell. Madja’s silence was an answer enough. She handed her a piece of leather. Y/n steeled herself, and dug her teeth into it.

Her voice was hoarse from screaming by the end - like whatever it was was fighting to stay inside and she felt each droplet leaving, but the healer said she could only get what was clinging to the arrow, what was still clenched to her muscle. Anything in the bloodstream would have to come out the natural way. She’d moved quickly to get it inside a vial - out of the air and before it could make contact with anything. Because of that, it had to go slowly, in all it took around an hour.

“Now the easy part,” she gave her a reassuring smile and yanked the arrow out before she could protest. Her teeth clenched, but soothing magic ran through the wound, stitching it back together. After what felt like an eternity, she helped her move to sit. Rhys must’ve asked her mind-to-mind, because the door swung back open the second she was situated.

Then - more diagnostics, more notes scribbled in between. Madja’s face was too neutral.

“What was it?” Mor asked.

“Bloodbane.” The two winced, although she knew they suspected it. She did, for certain, given she couldn’t feel her magic still.

“How long?” Y/n asked.

Madja clicked her tongue. “One week at least. It was a heavy dose,” she shot her a tight glance. “Once it wears off, you’ll need to be cautious. Your magic will come back in a flood.”

“We’ll take necessary precautions.” Rhys assured her.

She winced as pain echoed up her thigh, radiating through her body, and waited for the other shoe to drop. Madja clocked her movement, and slowly added, “there was a small trace of modified hemlock.”

Silence filled the room, and she could’ve sworn the temperature dropped. Modified? Madja, if she was unnerved, didn’t show it. Hemlock could kill in the right amount. “With the dose and the alterations, you can expect to feel sharp pains, perhaps just in your leg or body. Luckily it wasn’t a full dose.” Luckily. She supposed Madja was right - compared to the normal symptoms of that particular poison, she’d be grateful if that’s all she experienced.

“What can you give her, for it?” Mor asked.

From the brief studying she’d done on healing, and the books she’d read - y/n already knew the answer. “Nothing.”

Madja sent her an approving nod. “We won’t risk any interactions. Nothing for the pain, no drugs, no alcohol.” Maybe this was the Mother’s way of scolding her - of calling her a dumbass.

Madja clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Try to keep activity to a minimum. Drink plenty of water, let it run its course. I’ll come by twice a day for the first week.”

She grimaced. If Madja’s insisting on coming twice a day. She’d be lucky if any of them let her leave the bed.

The healer gathered her supplies and began to take her leave, Rhys walking her out.

Azriel had escorted the leftover soldiers to Hewn City as he flew back to Velaris. Flying faster than he ever had, he realized - like the winds were adapting around him, encouraging him to move faster - faster.

He landed on the balcony, Az a second behind him. “She didn’t …” his words trailed off, seeking confirmation. He shook his head. Maybe it was the ash arrow, blocking her magic and keeping her from realizing.

“No.” He responded quietly. “She didn’t.”

“Do we tell her?” Gods he’d thought about finding his mate before, thought about it a lot over the decades - they all had. He supposed it was some primal instinct in him, always searching for that connection. As soon as she’d taken the arrow for him, her magic working instinctively, he confirmed his suspicion. But, suspecting and feeling it snap were two very different things.

“Not now.”

Madja and Rhys’s conversation drifted through the open doors.

“Keep a close eye on her,” she was telling Rhys, intending for the two of them to overhear. He noticed Azriel’s shadows swirling around him. “The Fae Bane,” he shuddered, “is significant. One week is the minimum.” She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I don’t know exactly how they modified the hemlock.” His fists clenched, some of that deadly rage returning. “But the intention is pain without permanent physical damage. Expect sharp pains, depression, nightmares, and possibly hallucinations.”

“We won’t leave her alone.” Rhys promised her.

She gave a nod. “No alcohol, drugs of any kind, tonics, or pain relief of any kind. Even if she begs for it.”

Begs? Would she be in that much misery? His chest tightened. As mad as he might still be at her, the thought of her in agony is worse.

“Understood.” He replied, as if he’d heard this before. Maybe Madja was sharing it for their knowledge too.

“I’ll keep looking into it. I’ll be back in the morning” Her careful eyes fixed on them, nostrils flaring. “I need a word with these two.” She fixed a look at Rhys, who gave a quick bow and strode back inside, not bothering to look at them.

“I’ll keep your secret,” Madja murmured quietly as they approached her. She’d scented the bond - on them? Or y/n as well? Nothing flew past her. “I’ll trust you two to take care of her. She won’t be herself.” Her words felt like a warning and a plea.

“We will.” Azriel answered, in that cool and voice of his. Cassian was nearly trembling with built up anger and those protective instincts - ready to tear apart the entire house, kill any threat - perceived or real. “Tell me everything, please.” Azriel said mildly.

Madja, of course, picked up on it too - and gave them all of the details she could; in layman’s terms. Depression, nightmares, pain. He picked up on those three - the ones she put the most emphasis on. And instructed them to hide anything that might slow down the healing process. Although, he got the distinct sense the house might do some of that work for them.

She left them with one final word of caution; “I cannot guarantee how much she will remember - if anything.”

Rhys, as if sensing the end of the conversation, strode back through the doors. “I’ll take you back,” he said to the healer.

Minutes later, Rhys returned looking drained. “I’m sure Madja explained everything to you.” In more detail than he could know. “I’m not going to force you to babysit her, but your assistance would be appreciated.”

“She doesn’t need a babysitter.” Cassian countered. Azriel noticed with a hint of amusement that he’d bristled and come to y/n’s defense.

Rhys only raised his brow, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. Azriel, so far, had refused to process just how close they came to losing her. That’s something he could think about later. “For the next week or so, she does. We can’t leave her alone.” Azriel read through that; he’s terrified of what might happen if they do.

“I’ll keep eyes on her,” Azriel said with a soft menace. Like hell he’d let anything hurt his … his and Cassian’s mate. Even herself. Even if he still was pissed at her. He kept the neutral mask firmly in place, but part of him felt a bit ashamed at the relief in Rhys’s eyes. He’d harbored some doubt they would help.

“We’ll work things out.” A rotation, he figured. They all still had jobs to do, duties they had to keep. Rhys or Mor would tell the priestesses she would be off for the next few weeks. Perhaps she could bring some work for her to do here, if she had any moments of lucidity.

Gods, he had no idea what to expect - and that put him on edge more that he’d let on. Azriel worked on knowing everything, that was his nature.

“Can anyone else help?” Cassian asked, but he could sense the doubt in his voice.

“I don’t trust anyone else. Except Amren.” Something pricked the back of Azriel’s neck. He knew Amren wouldn’t harm her, but something about her always made him uneasy.

Madja hadn’t oversold the side effects. Not at all. When they entered the room, minutes after their conversation with Rhys. Mor was already wiping a wet cloth against y/n’s forehead.

Pale and wan skin, fists clenched and eyes squeezed as her leg seized. The scar was red and angry. A contrast against the rest of her skin, marring the otherwise untouched flesh. Reflexively, he looked at his own hands. Cassian, putting on a much better show than him, sauntered up to Mor and snatched the cloth from her, nudging the female out of the way. Her eyes dug into his back, but she promised y/n she’d be back later, shooting each of them a warning glance.

They had the gods-damned audacity to show up, acting like everything is perfectly normal. Like they hadn’t torn her soul in half this morning. The day had been too much. So much happening in such a short amount of time, maybe two hours if that. Words, words were too difficult as she clenched her eyes shut - a pain, one she wasn’t sure was phantom or real - ripping through her thigh.

A gentle hand ran a wet cloth over her forehead, she hadn’t realized she was panting. The bed dipped, and she blinked her eyes open to see Cassian sitting next to her. Worry radiated through his features. Where she could usually feel his or Azriel’s emotions … nothing. Maybe a side effect of her magic disappearing.

“Talking can wait until you’re feeling better.” He offered. An olive branch. She didn’t want it, so she turned her head away from him. One finger gently pressed against her cheek, dragging her attention back to him - frowning. “If you’d rather talk now, we can.”

She slapped his hand away, gritting her teeth through the pain to cross her arms over her chest. “Why bother?” Her voice was bitter. “I’m nothing to you.”

Did they both say it in Rhys’s office? She couldn’t remember clearly. Everything was blending together, memories blurring in and out.

He blinked twice. “That’s not true.” Her eyes slid to Azriel, and he gave a short nod. There was some sort of emotion in his eyes, one she couldn’t read. That pissed her off more.

“It doesn’t matter.” She muttered. Not now, she told herself. It’s not something she can talk about now. There’s too much to process. What happened earlier …

“You’re not in your right mind.” Azriel cut in. Her jaw dropped and her eyes rolled. “Why did you go off on your own?” His voice almost sounded pained. Cassian cut him a sharp look, hissing in warning.

“I’m a free female.”

“Nearly a dead one. If we hadn’t been there - the arrow still would’ve hit you, and you’d be gone.” Maybe he learned something from the soldiers already. Did he forget she saved Cassian? Well, he wouldn’t have needed saving if she hadn’t left. Her head shook, those thoughts were useless.

“Not the time Az,” Cassian snarled, standing abruptly and shoving him towards the door. Azriel’s shoulders tightened, and he strode out the door, shutting it softly behind him. Uncomfortable silence filled the room.

“You should sleep.” He finally said.

“Then leave.”

He let out a low edged chuckle. “I wish, but you’re stuck with me princess.” I wish. The words had the effect he wanted and she willed the tears away as she turned on her side, facing away from him. This might be the most miserable week of her life.

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