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aishangotome · 15 hours

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Alfons Sylvatica: [Mad Love] Epilogue

Chapter 25 His POV

♡———♡

Since I decided to live by Alfons' side - about one season had passed.

Liam: In the end, we couldn't find any weaknesses in Al, right?

During afternoon tea with scones baked by Victor, Liam, who was uncharacteristically off from his stage rehearsals, tilted his head slightly.

Roger: Oh, yeah, I remember talking about that. We even went as far as disguising ourselves and following him to find out his weaknesses.

Elbert: We asked people all over Crown for his weaknesses, but...

All eyes turned on me, and my face flushed with embarrassment.

Kate: I apologize for any inconvenience we may have caused...

Liam: No, not at all. But I was wondering what happened in the end.

Kate: Well... I've gradually come to realize that his weaknesses don't matter, so I still don't know what they are.

As I answered Liam, I reminisced about my days with Alfons.

I had been determined to find his weaknesses and use them to control him, but as I got to know him better, I found herself drawn to him.

Liam: Even El doesn't know? Like, he can't swim or he's afraid of bugs?

Elbert: Al can swim, and I don't think he's afraid of bugs...

Elbert: He seems to have learned a lot since he came to my mansion, and he quickly became proficient in reading, writing, arithmetic, and cooking.

Elbert: He even surpassed me in dancing.

(I see... He's really good at everything, isn't he?)

I always found myself listening intently to the stories that Elbert would tell me about Alfons, because they were always the truth, without any lies.

Roger: Is it okay not to know his weaknesses, lil lady?

Kate: Huh?

Roger: That guy's late-night drinking and slumming habits haven't changed. Don't you feel uneasy not knowing at least one weakness?

Kate: ...Well, if I were to say I wasn't uneasy... I'd be lying.

Even now, Alfons still spends his nights drinking and visiting the slums.

(But that's the way Alfons lives his life, and I don't want to deny it.)

(I don't want to deny the meaning or value of what Alfons is doing.)

Kate: I don't want to find his weaknesses and use them to threaten him.

Kate: I just want him to love me enough that he doesn't look at anyone else.

Liam: Wow, Al is really lucky.

Elbert: ...hehe

Roger: Well, then, maybe you should know another "weakness" of his.

Kate: Another weakness...? What is it?

Roger: Well, of course it's his body.

(His body...)

Kate: - - What are you saying, you pervert!

Alfons: You seem rather quiet for someone who's finally been able to see a play after being denied for so long.

Kate: Huh!?

Today is a theater date with Alfons.

I was able to enjoy the play itself, but once my consciousness was drawn back to Alfons from the stage,

The "weakness" story came to mind and I was at a loss for words.

(Roger, because you said that...)

Kate: I really enjoyed it! And I'm glad you invited me.

Alfons: I know you enjoyed it. You were so absorbed in the play that I didn't have time to play any pranks on you during the performance.

Kate: W-were you going to play a prank on me...?

Alfons: You think I would invite you on a wholesome date without any ulterior motives?

The seductive gaze that Alfons was giving me suddenly softened.

Alfons: ...But you were so starry-eyed that even I felt guilty.

I feel like he's been showing me more of this soft, gentle expression lately, not provocative.

(Just that makes me happy and excited... I'm so simple.)

This lover is a terrible scoundrel, but...

At times like this, I realize that I love him, including that part of him.

(What does Alfons like about me...?)

"I want him to like me so much that he doesn't even think about looking at anyone else."

The words I said to Roger were my true feelings.

Once I start to think about it, I got curious and fidgety.

Kate: Um... Alfons.

Alfons: Yes, yes, what is it?

Kate: What do you like about me...?

Alfons: .....

(Oh, he's surprised...)

Alfons immediately looked away as if to hide the fact that he had revealed his true self.

Alfons: Well, let's see, your cat-like qualities, I suppose.

Kate: Cat-like...? Me?

Alfons: Yes. You know, you meow and cling to me,

Alfons: And then the next moment you're sulking...in bed.

Kate: ! ?

Alfons: And you know, you scratch my back mercilessly...

Kate: S-Stop it... I understand.

Alfons: Ah, speak of the devil.

Kate: I said I understand...

Alfons: There's a cat over there.

(Huh...?)

I turned around and saw a small cat looking at us from the top of a fence.

Kate: Wow... It's cute...

The cat jumped down from the fence and rubbed up against Alfons' feet.

Kate: You get along with cats?

Alfons: I feed them on a whim, so the strays around here know my face.

(If he likes my cat-like qualities, maybe I can learn something from cats...?)

Alfons crouched down and the cat rubbed its forehead against his leather gloves.

Alfons: Hehe... I don't have anything for you today, unfortunately.

(Alfons... looks happy...?)

(M-Maybe it's okay to be honest and act spoiled like that sometimes...)

(...Can I do it?)

As I was thinking about this and observing, I suddenly noticed something strange about the cat's hind legs.

(Huh?)

Kate: Alfons, isn't that cat hurt...?

Roger: It was probably scratched in a fight with another stray. I disinfected it, so it'll be fine.

Roger disinfected the cat, even though it was swatting at him with its tail, looking grumpy.

Kate: Thank you, Roger.

Roger: Don't worry, I'll get my due.

Alfons: Please collect from the cat, not Kate. It was the cat who was treated.

Roger: Still, I can't believe you're taking a cat home. Is this Kate's influence, too?

Alfons: I don't know what you're talking about.

Roger: You hate cats, don't you?

Kate: Huh!?

(He hates... cats!?)

(But... he said he liked cats the day after we met.)

(And today he just said he liked my cat-like qualities...)

Shocked, I stared at Alfons, but

Alfons: Someone like you wouldn't understand the complex emotions of love and hate.

His face was plastered with a fake smile, and he wouldn't tell me which was the truth.

After returning the cat to its dwelling and taking a shower, I changed into my nightdress––,

Before collapsing onto the bed, I opened my mouth.

Kate: About the cat... which is it, really?

Alfons: ...Do you want to ask that while kissing your lover?

Kate: Hmm... but... well, you said I resemble a cat...

Kate: My feelings for you aren't a mix of love and hate... it's pure adoration, and I want you...

Alfons: You're a fool... to take such nonsense seriously.

Alfons: I like cats. But they also remind me of unpleasant memories, so my feelings are complicated.

Alfons: But you're... different, right?

Alfons: You're... like a cute little cat, my plaything.

Kate: Hmm--

While receiving a deep kiss, I ruminated on his words.

"Unpleasant memories" – he will surely never tell me about them.

But I could guess it was probably related to the "rumor of a human turning into a cat," which was the reason Roger met Alfons.

It must be a deep scar in Alfons' heart.

(Maybe it's Alfons' weakness, but)

(I still don't want him to show me his scars...)

More than that – I want to engrave him with fun, pleasant, and happy memories.

So that the old scars are buried and fade enough to be nostalgic.

Kate: Alfons... please give me your hand.

Alfons: ...Hehe, what are you scheming...?

Alfons held out his hand, still covered in a leather glove.

I nibbled at the tip of the nails and slowly removed the glove.

"Removing the glove" is... now a signal for the start of a sweet night,

Usually, I'm the one whose breath is taken away by his gesture of removing it, but––.

Alfons: ––Ah... you're very good at that.

As I slipped off the glove, Alfons' bare hand was revealed.

I dropped the leather glove onto the bed and rubbed my cheek against his palm.

Kate: Hmm...

Alfons: Oh... I thought you were seducing me, but are you just being affectionate?

Kate: ...I'm imitating a cat.

Kate: You said you liked them... so I was observing.

Alfons: Aha, you're quite the diligent student.

Alfons: ––Nn.

The moment I licked his palm, Alfons' fingertips twitched in response.

(...!)

Alfons: ...Surprise attacks are cowardly.

(Was it because it was a surprise attack? Or...)

Kate: ...Hmm.

As if to confirm, I put his fingertip in my mouth this time.

Alfons: ...Nn... ha...

As I ran my tongue over it, a sigh escaped Alfons' lips.

Kate: ...Are your hands weak...?

Alfons: No... I don't think they were, but...

Alfons: ...When I think you're doing it on your own... it tickles.

(...!)

Alfons' reaction made me happy, and the core of my head melted sweetly.

Pretending to forget my embarrassment––,

I licked his finger from the base to the tip of the nail, just like Alfons does, teasingly entwining my tongue.

Kate: Hmm... ha.. is it just... ticklish?

Alfons: ––No.

Alfons: It feels very good.

(...I'm glad.)

Kate: I found a weak spot that makes you feel good, Alfons.

With my head melted in joy, I put his fingertip in my mouth again.

––That was the trigger for the reversal of the situation.

Kate: Nnn..ah!

Alfons: ....When I'm twisting and turning between your tongue like this, it feels like when I'm stirring inside you and it gets me even more excited.

Kate: Nnn, uhh....mmm--!

Alfons: Oh, so you like to be rubbed on top of me as well as inside, do you?

As he freely stirred in my mouth, Alfons narrowed his eyes in ecstasy.

Alfons: Hey, Kate... Shall I teach you more about the weaknesses that makes me feel good?

Kate: Hmm, uh...?

Alfons: I like the feel of your soft hair when you come to me sweetly in the morning.

Alfons: If I were to be selfish, that timing is the best.

Alfons: And the pain from when you scratch my skin because you can't stand the pleasure anymore. I like feeling that so much.

Alfons: And when you're about to come, you like to kiss me with your tongue.

Alfons: I also like it when you say you can't take it anymore, but then you push your hip against me and beg me for more.

Kate: Hmm... huh, what... hmm...

Alfons: ...When I bully you like this by saying embarrassing things,

Alfons: You'll sulk and turn your face away, pouting your lips, right? I'm also weak to that profile.

Alfons: Ah, right now, my fingers are in the way, so you can't hide your face, can you?

Kate: Hmm... huh...

His fingertips pull out of my lips, eliciting a slurping sound.

Alfons: Do you understand what I'm saying?

Kate: Ahh....nnn, ahh....?

The pleasure of him playing with my mouth, and the flood of words filled with love and desire pouring into me at the same time made my head spin.

Alfons: I think I have a weakness for you.

Alfons licked my wet fingertips and laughed.

Kate: That's... unfair.

Alfons: Ah ha! What is?

Kate: Saying things like that... it makes me so happy I could forgive you for anything.

Alfons: Isn't that a good thing? Please forgive me for everything.

With a gentle push to the shoulder, I fell back onto the bed.

I couldn't put any strength into my legs, so I parted them and hung them loosely,

and Alfons licked my wet spot from the bottom to top.

Kate: Ahh...!

Alfons: Do you get this turned on just from me sucking on this spot?

Kate: I... I mean...

Alfons: I'm going to lick you a lot. I know all the weak points that can make you come.

Kate: …… Hehe

Roger: You're in a good mood, lil lady. Did something good happen?

Kate: I found out Alfons' weakness.

Roger: Dirty jokes at the breakfast table? You're full of energy.

Kate: N-No, that's not it...!

Kate: …… He said that I was his weakness.

I'm so happy, my chest still feels warm when I think about it.

(Maybe more than I think...)

(Maybe he's fallen for me so much that he won't even look at anyone else...)

(Is that being a little too careless?)

Alfons: Kate, did you already tell that man over there about my weakness?

Kate: Eek!?

Suddenly, a breathy voice whispered in my ear, and I jumped up and turned around.

Alfons was leaning back in his chair, his eyebrows furrowed as if to blame me.

Alfons: I thought it was our secret... You're a cruel person.

Kate: Eh!? I-I'm sorry...!

Alfons: No, I won't forgive you.

Alfons rested his cheek on the back of the chair and smiled mischievously.

Alfons: I'm jealous. Please cheer me up.

(Oh no... I was tricked again.)

Even after all the embarrassing things he did to me last night,

And even though I haven't learned my lesson, he's still playing me like this today.

Kate: I understand. …… I'm sorry for talking about it without your permission. I love you, Alfons.

Alfons: That's not good enough. More passionately.

Kate: Don't get carried away...

But in the end, I'm the one who forgives him for everything––,

Maybe I'm the one who's weak to Alfons.

FIN

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#ikemen series #cybird #ikemen villains #alfons sylvatica translation #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #alfons sylvatica #alfons sylvatica full route translated #alfons sylvatica mad love translation #alfons sylvatica full story translation #ikevil translation

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vonbergerpants · 2 days

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Drabble: S support conversation between Caspar and Linhardt

I wrote an extremely self-indulgent drabble a long time ago and I just remembered it today. So here's my imagining of Caspar and Linhardt's S support, before their paired ending.

Mind you, I'm not a writer, so I'm sorry that this isn't quite fanfic material!

The sun is close to setting at the pier. Linhardt is fishing as usual. Caspar is standing behind him, a bit restless, pacing back and forth, his footsteps clear and loud on the wooden pier.

Linhardt can tell when Caspar's mind is racing, but this makes it especially obvious. So he doesn't even turn when he says "You know, Caspar... if you've got something on your mind, you could at least sit down while you think about whatever it is you're wanting to tell me. You're scaring the fish."

This startles Caspar out of his thinking. He stammers a bit.

"I, uh. Yeah, okay. I can't really hide anything from you, so there's no point in hiding it."

He sits down next to Linhardt, who is still staring forward, rod in hand, line still cast in the water. Caspar looks down into the water, and he sees their reflections. Somehow, that eases him a bit as he takes a deep breath.

"Do you... have any plans, now that the war's over?" He doesn't look up as he says this.

Linhardt doesn't move. "Well, I won't be taking over my family's estate, if that's what you're asking. I decided that a while ago. Why do you ask?"

There's a beat of silence. Caspar looks at Linhardt, but it's a quick glance before he's looking down at the water again. It's the best way he can look at Linhardt's face without his nerves taking over.

"Well, I was... thinking of traveling. Seeing the world. There isn't anything left for me, so I guess I can just do whatever I want. And so can you. So I just wanted to know what you were spending your free time on." He lets out a chuckle. "I guess you'll be getting a ton of naps in from now on."

Linhardt looks up and hums. "Very true. I'm not sure quite sure how much sleep I'd get in with your constant movement, but I can certainly make the most of it, now that we're no longer at war."

Caspar lets out another laugh. "Yeah, you might not-- wait, what?" Caspar looks right at Linhardt. "With my-- hold on, what do you mean by that?"

Linhardt turns his head to him and raises an eyebrow. "Traveling typically involves a lot of movement. I'm not quite sure what else I could mean by that."

Caspar blinks, processing what he'd just said, then laughs again. "Yeah, I just don't plan on staying here very long. I just wanna get out there and see the world now that it's peaceful, you know? I'll make sure to send you plenty of letters, of course!"

Linhardt just stares at Caspar as if he'd said something off-putting. "Why would you send me letters? Am I not coming with you?"

Caspar sputters in surprise, as if the wind was just knocked out of him. "Wait, ARE YOU? I thought you wanted to stay behind and, I dunno - read and sleep all day now that you don't have to fight anymore!"

Linhardt lets out a sigh. He looks... a bit hurt? "Caspar... if you don't want me to come, you should just say so."

"NO!" Caspar's response was so loud that it startled the fish nearby and Linhardt. "I mean... no! I want you come with me, that's what I wanted to ask! But... I dunno, I just figured... I mean, this isn't your kind of thing. Traveling all over the place, moving around all day? Wouldn't you rather just relax?"

Linhardt takes this moment to turn around and fully look at Caspar's face.

"Caspar, I'm not sure what gave you that idea. Yes, I've been looking forward to finally relaxing now that this goddess-forsaken war is over. But that doesn't mean I would rather not be in your company. I've always been at your side, ever since we were children. As far as I'm concerned, this is just more of what we've always done. If I've ever come off as someone who doesn't enjoy your company, I assure you that couldn't be further from the truth."

Caspar is speechless. He stares open-mouthed at Linhardt, having somehow not expected this response. This whole time he thought Linhardt would just want to stay behind. And yet they've been best friends and stuck together for so long, he should've seen this coming.

"Linhardt, I... that makes me happier than you can imagine. Because, if I'm being honest..." He turns to fully face Linhardt and look him in the eyes. He swallows, unsure of whether his next words should leave his lips. But he follows his instinct on this one.

"... traveling and seeing the world wouldn't be anywhere near as fun and satisfying if you weren't there to share it with me."

Linhardt's eyes go wide. A light blush blooms across his face. Oh. That's a good look on him.

"Well. When you put it like that, I feel a little better in saying that there would be no point in staying behind if you were gone. Life would just be... incredibly boring without you." Linhardt looks down, almost bashful, or as close as Linhardt has ever come to it. "I don't want to experience that sort of dullness in my life again."

That did it. That steeled Caspar's resolve and made him decide to take the leap. The thing that he's been really pacing back and forth over. Linhardt hadn't realized that Caspar's had his hand in his pocket the entire time they'd been talking. Caspar takes a long, deep breath. He repositions himself and takes a knee.

"Then, uh. Linhardt. Do you..." He takes out a ring from his pocket. "Will you... travel with me? Side by side? ... Hand in hand?"

Linhardt's eyes are as wide as saucers. It's now his turn to be speechless. His blush is now on full display. After a moment, he holds out his hand not holding the rod and reaches for the ring. "Caspar... are you asking me what I think you're asking?"

Caspar takes a hard swallow and nods, face determined yet strained from nervousness. His hand is shaking. "Y-Yeah. I am. Linhardt... I love y--"

Caspar was gripping onto the ring in such a way that it slipped out of his fingers and fell into the pond.

"OH MAN!"

A loud splash is heard as Caspar jumps into the pond. Well, that shook Linhardt right out of his shock.

***

Once Caspar's pulled himself out of the pond and Linhardt is drying him off using light wind magic, Linhardt is chuckling at the whole display. Caspar just groans in absolute embarrassment.

Linhardt smiles. "In case it wasn't clear, my answer is yes. I love you too, Caspar. After all, it's like I said. Our fates are not so easily untangled."

Caspar looks to Linhardt, eyes wide. "Really?! You... so you're not just saying yes to traveling, you're saying yes to me?"

"I am."

"You love me?"

"That is what I just said."

"You... love me."

"Mhm. And unless I misheard you, you love me as well."

Caspar jumps in excitement before Linhardt could finish drying his hair. "I do! I do love you! So much it hurts! You've no idea how long I've been wanting to say something! Oh man, I was so prepared for you to say no that I wasn't expecting you saying yes to be so exciting - I gotta tell everyone!"

"Caspar, wait--"

It's too late. Caspar's already bolted past Linhardt, shouting at the sky.

"YEEEAAAHHHH, LINHARDT LOVES ME BACK!!!"

Linhardt shakes his head and sighs, a smile still on his face and so much fondness in his heart.

"Utterly ridiculous."

#fe3h #caspar von bergliez #linhardt von hevring #casphardt #linspar #partly inspired by caspar's actual S support #fire emblem #fanfiction #it's my first time writing and posting anything fic-like #please be gentle

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utterlyotterlyx · 1 month

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Sweet Creature

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - The bond snaps after a rather brutal breakup, and after witnessing you with another Vanserra, Azriel is trying to find a way to avoid being hurt once again.

Warnings - fluff, angst, pining, swearing, unrequited love, heartbreak, sad Az, happy ending (yay!)

Word count - 8.4k (oops)

Based on this ask

It had become so intense in the House of Wind that you had little to no choice in moving yourself to the River House. Between Nesta and Cassian's bustling sex life and the constant bickering arguments between Azriel and Elain, you decided that you needed some peace.

And fast.

Rhys had welcomed you at the door that day, his sort-of sister in arms surrounded by brown leather bags that he could almost envision you launching down the House of Wind steps just to escape as fast as possible. Flipping him off and smirking at his chuckle, you slipped around his form stood in the doorway and headed right to Nyx who was more than thrilled to see you, babbling incoherently and grabbing for you the moment you were in eyeshot.

"I take it that it's getting a bit loud over there?" Rhys turned to you, his shirt half unbuttoned and hands burrowed into his pockets. He was lucky. To have a mate and a child. To not have to live with the band of animals currently residing in the Night Court's most opulent residence.

"How am I supposed to get anything done wedged between that lot?" Nyx smiled at your cooing, lapping up all of your love and affection, "I'd much rather be here with my favourite prince."

Within minutes, your bags were taken upstairs by Rhys who was grumbling to himself about never being able to have any peace to which you blissfully quipped that you'd be out of his hair the moment he bought you a lavish apartment in the city. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford it after all.

Your position within the Inner Circle was irreplaceable. Not only were you Rhys' childhood best friend, the only one he could truly depend on before Cassian and Azriel flew into the picture, but you were also known as a witch. A powerful celestial being that had the capability to destroy and create as you saw fit with an affinity to sky and water magic.

The scales could have tilted in the wrong direction had you truly taken up Amarantha's offer to be her pet, the only reason you had confined yourself to that chamber Under The Mountain was to make sure that Rhys survived, and you played your part well, just as you always had.

A break was needed, the air in the House of Wind was almost suffocating, and no amount of your power was able to drown it. Elain was spending more time with Lucien, her mate, and Azriel was not happy about it considering that they were meant to be in a committed relationship. The barking insults and shouting had become too much to bare, so intense that your own power was itching for release in order to silence them for at least a couple of minutes.

"They're going to break up, aren't they?" Rhys certainly wouldn't be the first to tell Azriel I told you so, but he'd certainly be thinking it when the Shadowsinger would inevitably return to the River House just like you had to escape the nightmare of his life.

Humming softly, sadly, you looked up at Rhys, your godson in your arms resting his head on your chest, "I think so. Az hasn't been himself lately."

It was true, your friend had become a shell of himself, wallowing in self-loathing and doubt, and you cursed Elain eternally for turning him into such a thing. How anyone could hurt Azriel was beyond your scope of realisation, he was perfect in every way, devoted, kind, caring, and definitely a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom if your ears served you right.

Being attracted to Azriel was a natural bodily response, you had told yourself at least, it was difficult to not want to jump the bones of the illustrious Shadowsinger who kept a watchful eye on your every step. Like he was waiting for his moment to swoop in and save you.

But you had never needed saving, and you never would.

Elain and you had never really gotten along, it wasn't as though you hadn't tried to be friendly with the Made sister, she just couldn't stand to be around you. Maybe her own abilities clashed with yours, perhaps she was terrified of you. You couldn't blame her, the idea of you was one that stalked travellers and gifted nightmares to the young.

A celestial witch. In the flesh.

Anyone who knew you well enough would be able to dispel any wrongful intent, but Elain was not one of those people.

"I did warn him," Rhys' finger drifted to hook itself around Nyx's outstretched hand, and he shook it gently as he continued on, "A mating bond is not something to get entangled with."

"Az needs us to be his friends right now, Rhys. A breakup on its own is awful, but when it's so close, when he's been waiting so long for it, it's bound to hurt."

A firm hand on your shoulder comforted you, you knew how tough it must be for Azriel to go through it, after how painful it was to hold out hoping that he would be enough to suddenly not be, "I know, Witchling," you scoffed at the nickname as you always had and always would, Rhys pressed a dainty kiss into your hair, like a brother to a newly born sister, "Whatever he needs, I'm here, and so are you."

If you had known what awaited you that week, you'd take the telling words back in a second.

Like you had guessed, Azriel moved back into the River House, residing in his own room across the hall from your own. And boy, was he a raincloud if you ever did see one. Even his shadows looked solemn, and they didn't have faces. Azriel looked positively awful, constantly messy hair, large bags of onyx that imprinted onto the skin beneath his usually warm hazel eyes that had turned into nothing but dark pools of heartbroken sadness.

In the night, you had heard him crying, you'd stood outside of his door, not saying a word, but hoping that he knew that someone was there for him even if he didn't want them to be.

You had tried to talk to him, to coax him out of his haze by offering to train with him, or walk with him along the banks of the Sidra, you'd even asked him if beating your ass whilst you wore a mask of Lucien would bring a smile to his face. Unfortunately, everything you had tried had failed you, and you were at a loss as to help your friend.

"Honestly Rhys, how do you reach anything in here?" Rhys was hovering in the doorway, eyebrow raised with delight as he watched you try and scale the countertops to reach the top shelf of the cupboard.

There were chocolate chips for your cookies up there, and they had your name all over them.

"It's not my fault you're not Illyrian," his eyes darkened into a smirk, "Why don't you just hop onto your broomstick and fly?"

Even a silent Azriel emitted a gasp from his place on the opposite side of the centre island. If there was one thing you hated, it was being likened to the witches children sang about in their storybooks. It offended you how utterly unalike you were, and it made you seethe when someone, usually Rhys or Cassian, would use that hatred to rile you up.

"Oh," you stood on the countertop, towering over the High Lord by a few mere inches, "Is that why all of the doorways are so wide? Because your fat fucking head needs all the room it can get?"

Rhys stood speechless before you, the room fell silent.

Then a laugh.

Not yours of Rhys', you had to check it wasn't you making any noise before your eyes landed on the owner of the most joyful thing you'd heard in weeks.

A smile. Curled parted lips as a howling laugh ripped through them. Azriel's shadows danced to the sound, and his body shook with it. You could have cried, but you kept it together, you choked down your happiness to witness the momentary return of the one who meant the most to you.

It was no secret that you used to be Azriel's favourite. There was nothing that the two of you wouldn't do together, even if it was a medial task like taking you to the bakery or finding you a new Starfall dress that would make Mor dim in comparison. Azriel was always happy to come along. Until Elain, and then you had stopped seeing another, you'd drifted so far apart that he didn't even properly greet you anymore, all you were adorned with was a curt nod and tight lipped smile before Elain would whisk him away.

The male in front of you was nothing like that one, not in that singular glimmer of hope at least. Once his laughter died down, and a serene smile planted itself on his lips, Azriel opened his eyes and moved them to you, they glowed with something you couldn't quite understand, and then they widened. His eyes faltered. His smile faded.

Azriel gasped.

"Mate."

Darting your line of sight to Rhys, you pointed at him, flickering your gaze back to Azriel who had rose from his seat "Him?"

Rhys swatted your finger away, "I'm mated, y/n," Rhys glanced between you and took a step backward.

"So?" It couldn't be. Not right now. Not now.

"I can't do this," Azriel was struggling to breathe, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, sweat beaded at his brow and his skin had paled.

Scrambling down from the worktop, you went to take a step toward him, one that he mirrored in the opposing direction, furling his wings behind his back and clawing his shadows into submission, "Don't, Az. I can go."

The visible wince of pain that shot through you was enough for Azriel to suck in a breath and disappear from sight. The bond was dull, a golden thread soaring across the night sky to meet a shield of inked darkness. Azriel had closed you off. Shut you out.

Silence befell the kitchen, the chocolate chips you had gotten from the top shelf now scattered across the dark oak wood beneath your bare feet. Rhys had never seen you cry, he almost thought it impossible, but then he saw that single tear roll down your cheek, he could feel the pain radiating from you from finding your mate for him only to run from you.

"Hey, it's alright," he wrapped you into his arms, shushing you softly as he ran his fingers through your hair to soothe the quiet sobs rattling your shoulders, "It's going to be fine, y/n. Azriel's just confused, he'll be thrilled soon. Just you wait."

The snap had been gentle, like you had just come home after a long day, like you'd stepped through the door to see everyone you had ever loved all in one place and he was at the epicentre of it. Safe. Warm. Perfect.

Being a witch, you were never sure how life would look for you. Not even the cauldron understood your kind, you had always thought that perhaps the cauldron overlooked your species for the things most pure, like mating bonds and children. Witchlings were rare, you were the lone example of it, perhaps a part of you thought that you weren't allowed to have any love or joy, that you weren't good enough for it.

And there it was right in front of you, with the male a part of you had always yearned for, dancing in ash.

In the weeks that followed, Azriel did all he could to avoid you. No reason was good enough to make Azriel even glance in your direction let alone utter anything to you.

It had gotten to the point where you had asked Rhys for the keys to the cabin, you packed up your things and stepped through time to stand on that cold wooden floor with moonlight drifting through the small square windows.

You’d never thought that you could ever feel so alone, but as you stood there in a cabin so cold that you could see your own breath, the loneliness certainly began to set in.

There was little else to do other than light a fire to warm the little cabin on the outskirts of the city and run a bath; the tub was surrounded by candles, the ottoman at the foot of it was full of scented oils and salts which made your heart flutter. At least if you were to wallow in your own heartbreak you’d be able to do it smelling like the ocean surrounded by candlelight.

Bubbles crept up your neck as you sank into the wooden tub, it should have been a tranquil moment for you, but it was far from it in reality.

Az, please. Just talk to me. I'm still y/n, I'm still your friend. Things don't have to change.

Instead of enjoying the alone time like you should have considering that it was rare to have a minute of peace in a city full of needy children, you sat and let your mind wonder just how everything had gotten so messed up. You understood his confusion, really, you did, you understood how conflicting it must have been for him to separate with Elain, the female he was ready to spend the rest of his existence with, to then find out he was mated to you, not just you as his friend, but you as a witch.

Talk to me.

Too many tears had been spilled, you couldn't stop them from flowing from your eyes each time Azriel would fumble some excuse to get away from you. The bond was cold, it was like trying to break through a shield, an icy 10 foot deep floor that wouldn't even crack under whatever you would throw at it.

If you need me to leave then I will, Az. I'll leave for you, so you can have space, so you can think.

In the weeks that followed the revelation, you'd done all you could to try and get through to him, to let him know that you weren't expecting him to accept it, that he could take all the time he needed to process everything before speaking to you, all you needed was a sign that he was listening to you, that you mattered. It didn't surprise you that Azriel hadn't exactly thought about you in the predicament, of what it had done to you, and you couldn't even be angry at him over it because you'd be the same.

It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.

Dark skies littered with blinking starlight was cast overhead, too beautiful to be real, too beautiful that you were sure that it was some kind of abstract painting on a black canvas. The cabin used to be one of your favourite places, Azriel and you used to escape there frequently, spending nights upon nights drinking Rhys' best wine and talking about everything and nothing.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from the memories, your eyes drifted to the clock softly ticking on the wall and you frowned, it was quite late. Lifting yourself from the tub, you wrapped a towel around your frame and padded over to the door, your wet footprints embedding themselves in the wood below. Slight disappointment sliced through you when you opened the door to see Mor, Nesta and Feyre on the deck shivering in the brisk breeze.

"We brought supplies," Nesta pushed past you, placing a wicker basket on the table and shrugging off her coat, "By supplies I mean wine, wine, and more wine."

Mor and Feyre entered, sniffing the air with soft smiles, they had always loved your scent, it was peaceful, like ocean waves lapping against the side of a mountain at dusk, airy, blissful, fresh.

The news had spread around the Inner Circle rather quickly thanks to Rhys, he had told Cassian, and well, Cassian wasn't exactly known for holding his tongue. The Lord of Bloodshed had apologised to you, feeling guilty for making things worse between you and Azriel, but you didn't mind. All you wanted was for the Shadowsinger to simply look at you. Anything else was a pointless worry. Not worth your time.

Tugging the towel tighter around your frame, you forced a smile, "This is really nice. Thank you."

Strangely, both Nesta and Feyre had been surprisingly supportive of the bond between you and Azriel. To them it made sense, you had been friends for over 500 years, you both struggled with fitting in, and you only felt truly comfortable to let your walls down around one another. To them, the bond had been there for a long time, waiting for the perfect moment. Too bad that the perfect moment had ended up making feel like the most worthless creature on the planet.

"Has he let you in yet?" Nesta rested her hand on your shoulder, her other hand was busy handing you a goblet of wine which you hugged closely to your chest and shook your head, "I'm sorry y/n. I really thought he would have by now."

"Give it time. He'll come around," Feyre draped her cloak over the arm of one of the dining chairs, smoothing out her skirt. It had always astounded you just how perfect they all were, the Archeron sisters that is, it was hard to understand how any male couldn't be attracted to them. They were quite heavenly.

"You've all been saying that for weeks," you shrugged off Nesta's hand, exasperated, "If anything he's become colder. Azriel doesn't acknowledge me, he looks right through me, he finds any reason possible to not be in the same room as me and when he sees me in the halls he turns on his heels and runs."

"I'm now living in this damned cabin hoping that some space will help him," your shoulders dropped, "I've waited my entire existence for this, I started to think that I wasn't worthy of it, and when it happened and the bond snaps with the one person I know that I could be truly happy with," your bottom lip wobbled slightly, but you choked it down and swallowed hard, "He ran."

Mor leaned forward in her seat, wide eyes under her perfectly sculpted furrowed brows, "It has nothing to do with you, y/n."

"How am I supposed to believe that when he won't even look at me?"

Something thick and fluffy draped over you, Nesta's robe that you always eyed was resting on your shoulders, "Go and get in your comfy clothes, then we can talk and bitch until all you feel is anger."

Amongst the chatter, you spied the three leather bags full to the brim of differing clothes and cosmetics, and then you realised that you weren't alone, not really, not when those three bags of clothes and trinkets belonged to the three females in the cabin with you, clearly ready to move in and stay with you until you were ready to face life again.

Who needed a man when you had three raging bitch queens?

Nesta was right, you just had to get back to work.

If anything was going to be able to distract you from that aching in your chest, then it would be work.

Luckily, Rhys, whilst he loved your abilities greatly, saw you as much more than just a celestial witch residing in his court, he likened you to a sister, blood family, which meant that he trusted no one more than you to act on his behalf when it came to court politics.

Holding such a position meant that you were rather close with the High Lords, they never saw you as Rhys' lackey at all, they saw you as a being that cared greatly about the continent who would stop at nothing to ensure harmony in all jurisdictions. Such a role meant that you were also required to entertain the High Lords whenever they visited Velaris, a place you had extended to them after the war to aid their research and better their own courts, with your help of course.

That particular evening, Rhys had asked you to entertain a certain High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra; he was visiting Lucien and his new mate, Elain, and the entire visit was putting Azriel on edge. So, naturally, you couldn't say no.

"I always love our dinners, y/n," Eris' whisky amber gaze burned into you, searching the supernatural speckles in your own.

It was no secret that Eris had a flame for you, a being he found intriguing beyond belief, in the grasp of the Night Court when Eris knew how much you would thrive in Autumn by his side. The High Lord had offered Rhys pretty much everything he could to try and convince him to let him near you. All attempts had been swiftly denied.

Plates were littered with blotches of sauce and chicken bones, two empty bottles of red had been disposed of long ago, and you were just about to order that sticky toffee slice that made your toes curl when Eris asked, "When were you going to tell me about you and Azriel, hm?"

Candlelight drifted over the side of his face, illuminating his eyes against the darkening backdrop. "What are you talking about?"

Eris smirked, swirling the second glass of your third bottle that evening in perfect circles in his palm, "Come on, y/n. You reek of him, that cedar scent that even I have to admit is rather interesting."

In all of your self wallowing and sudden busyness you hadn't realised that the scent of the mating bond lingered on you, entwining with your scent of blissful oceans to create something new, something drowning. Something suffocating.

"I can admit that the news did hurt me, just a little bit," Eris, since the war, had allowed his hair to grow out. It sat just below his shoulders, layered and playful, he had it lazily pulled back low on his head. Something about that hair and those eyes made you question everything you knew, and you did know that you weren't the only one who felt like that when around the High Lord of Autumn.

Fluttering your lashes at Eris, you ran your fingers across the line of your bodice, "I apologise. It seems that fate wanted to lead me elsewhere."

Eris dismissed the waiter, eyes grinning at you through his lashes, "Let's go to Rita's. I need to drink some more, and you," he pointed to you, knowing that he was interrupting a rather important date with a rather important pudding, and said, "Need to loosen up, Witchling."

That fucking name.

You were sure that steam was emitting from your ears, but you couldn't deny that he was right, you couldn't really remember the last time you let loose and danced the night into oblivion. So you grabbed your purse from the table, a ornate gold cage that matched the intricate details of your skirt, and rose from your seat, "I hate how right you are, Vanserra. Let's go."

The High Lord towered over you, like all of them did really, stupid high fae and Illyrians and their stupid perfect genes making them so handsome and mysterious and utterly fuckable.

Stumbling from the restaurant at the edge of the Sidra, you looped your arm through Eris' and he practically had to pull you along the streets of the city or else you'd go and do a ritual in a field or something. Despite his crush, Eris found that part you a bit odd. In a way, you did too.

"When are you going to come to Autumn, Witchling? You know you'd love it there."

Eris propositioned you with the notion every time he saw you, he clearly thought that if he pestered you about it enough then you'd agree to it one day. Even just a fleeting visit would be enough to satisfy him. Just a day or two. You couldn't deny that Autumn piqued your interest, and with everything going on, perhaps a little break would do you some good.

"Maybe sooner than you think," despite the shameless flirting, you were glad that you could call Eris your friend, underneath that mask of loathing, you found the High Lord to be complex, and he appreciated your understanding. You were the only being that had ever approached him with kindness and treated him for who he truly was and not what he displayed. "All of this stuff with Azriel is spinning my mind. I feel like I'm going insane."

Eris hummed, tugging you a bit tighter into his side as he draped his arm over your shoulder, something completely platonic that you knew would send a certain someone spiralling, "That's what mating bonds do, y/n. I know that everyone keeps on telling you that he'll come around, I hope he does. Truly." It was the first time you had seen him say something and know that he was sincere of it "But, for tonight and tonight only, you are mine and we are going to drink and dance until we physically can't anymore, alright?"

Inhaling deeply, you met his gaze, "Alright."

Rita's was packed to the brim, you could feel the music thumping through the air so intensely that the ground beneath your feet was vibrating in time with the bass. Suddenly, you felt overdressed, but Eris commanded that you not think of it as he pulled you through the doors and past the guards who nodded at you with a curt smile as you clicked by.

In Velaris, you were quite known for being the wild one, the entire city was in awe of you and the powers you displayed so beautifully. More often than not, you would be found in the poorer parts of the city enchanting the children with your magic, curls of water would dance along their cheeks, and they would gasp when you would pluck a star from the sky and rest it in the palm of your hand. You knew what it felt like to feel alone and forgotten, being the last existing witch in your coven and all, and you didn't want anyone else to feel like that. So, if some water and a star would bring some form of happiness to those children, then you'd spend the rest of your life bringing them that wonder.

Eris tugged you through the grinding bodies, some of which parted as soon as they saw your eyes glistening in the lights, and stopped at the bar, shouting over the music to order drinks for you both before he turned, handing you a glass of what you could only assume was straight liquor, "To stealing you from the Night Court, Witchling," Eris raised his glass, rolling your eyes, you met it with a clink and wasted no time in downing the liquid, relishing in the burn that travelled down your throat and chest.

"Keep dreaming, Vanserra."

Hand on heart, Eris swayed into you, "Oh believe me, y/n, I do."

If you had known who was staring at you from across the room then you would have taken a step away from Eris, much like if you had seen the shadows followed you since you left the cabin that evening you wouldn't have agreed to go to Rita's. It was too late to do anything when your eyes connected with his, yours widened in surprise and solemn shock as his own narrowed, flickering between you and Eris before softening.

Of course, the first time Azriel actually looked at you was when you were stood beside Eris Vanserra, a High Lord, the brother of the one now laying with Elain.

Fuck.

It was like he didn't even see you really, he only saw Eris standing far too close to the one the cauldron had decided to be his mate. There was no way to be blind to the hatred between them, and with Azriel's temper and Eris' flare for the dramatics, you weren't surprised that Rhys had asked you to entertain the latter for the evening.

Noticing how your body froze, Eris frowned, he followed your line of sight to the Shadowsinger perched at a booth across the room ignoring both Cassian and Rhys who were trying to speak to him, to keep him calm.

Rhys. I didn't know.

I know, y/n. It'll be fine. We can handle Az if you can handle Eris.

Stiffly nodding, you turned to speak to Eris, to convince him to leave and find another place to drink, but he was gone. Then you saw his red hair moving through the crowd and you cursed, colourfully, and you scrambled through the crowd to try and reach him before he did something stupid.

Rushing up the steps to the usual booth reserved for the Inner Circle only, you stopped in your tracks as Eris' voice sliced through the chilled air, "When are you going to give our sweet y/n a break, Rhys? I keep on asking her to come to Autumn but she keeps on refusing."

Stop talking.

"It seems that she could use a break now more than ever."

Stop fucking talking.

"Especially since the bond is unrequited and she's sat in that little cabin day in day out wondering what her fate will be."

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tugged on him, harshly, like you were reprimanding a dog on a leash, "Stop talking."

Little did you know, that one touch alone was enough to make Azriel visibly flinch and shudder with pain. That one act pierced his heart deadlier than Elain ever had or could, the way your fingers rested just over Eris' pulse, the way you looked at him with flame in your eyes, it was too much.

Eris wouldn't hurt you, you were the closest thing he had to a true friend, bit his loosened lips would be the end of you, "You both know that this isn't fair on her. Why is she the one who has to sit in misery and move to the outskirts of this city in order to make your poor Azriel more comfortable?"

Tension bubbled, Rhys was slowly rising from his seat whilst Cassian angled himself in front of Azriel, probably to stop the Shadowsinger from doing something he would come to regret, "Eris, you're making it worse," he finally gave you his attention, "Just wait outside for me, we can find somewhere else to drink, okay?"

It took him a moment, but your pleading eyes convinced him to listen, and Eris moved from your side, disappearing from you and leaving you stood before three Illyrians, all of which you were sure didn't wish to be around you in that moment. Fiddling with your fingers, you looked up from the ground at them, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were going to be here. You told me to keep him entertained, I'm sorry."

Rhys froze, his breath caught in his throat, and Azriel was glaring at him with such intensity that it made even you shrink, and you didn't shrink away from anything or anyone, "I'll go. I'm sorry," your chest ached when Azriel didn't even glance in your direction, instead keeping his gaze trained on his High Lord who simply nodded once at you.

Then you left, you grasped Eris by the lobe of his ear and dragged him away from Rita's before Azriel could make him pay for his words, or even worse, Rhys. It took only a few blocks for Eris to swat your hand away, "I'm not a child, y/n." Eris rubbed the red tinged patch of skin at his ear with a pout.

Velaris watched on as you bundled down a cobbled path toward the bank of the Sidra, a place you went to often to channel your magic, it was serene and beautiful, and had been the perfect place for you to find your calm in the midst of such brutality, "That is my mate, Eris. Do you understand that? Azriel is going through so much already, he lost Elain to Lucien," Eris cocked his brow in warning but you continued, "Elain was meant to be the one for him, and as long as Az was happy then I could choke down everything I had ever felt for him because he deserved all of the happiness possible after everything he's been through. I could live alone for the rest of my days as long as he was happy. Then it turns out that he's mine, that he was always meant to be mine, it should have been the best day of our lives," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you were sick of it, of crying, you had never cried, it wasn't in your nature but it was all you could do these days.

"Azriel can't even look at me, I had to move out of the River House and isolate myself from everyone I love just to give him a moment to think and process everything," you turned to Eris, "You just had to prod him, didn't you? You just had to get under his skin. Do you know how this looks? Elain chose Lucien and then he sees me drinking with you?"

Eris ran a hand over his face and sighed, "I didn't mean to make things difficult, y/n. I just want what's best for you, what you deserve."

"I know and I appreciate that, I really do. I just wanted things to get better, not worse."

It astounded Eris how Azriel wasn't over to moon to have you as his mate, you were elegant and graceful, a formidable opponent, tactical and sharp, and one of the most beautiful creatures to ever walk under the skies of Prythian. Perhaps he could have been a touch more sensitive to the situation at hand.

The moonlight waltzed over the rippling waters of the Sidra which acted as a mirror to the sky above, clear and bright, full of possibility.

The bond strained in your soul, empty and unrequited, a lone dying ember searching for its flame, and you knew then that Azriel was going to pull away from you more than ever.

"You should go back to the House of Wind," your voice was small and weak, "I'll see you before you leave tomorrow."

Eris took a step toward you, fumbling, knowing that he had messed up, "Please, y/n."

"Eris," he paused his movements, "Just go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Knowing that nothing was going to change your stubborn mind, Eris retreated up the embankment and down the cobbled path, leaving you completely and utterly alone.

Pebbles brushed together under your weight, moving flat to accommodate your position. You hugged your knees to your chest, unclasping your heels and tossing them aside, rubbing the skin on your ankles softly to alleviate the pinching that was once there.

How long could you go like this? How long would be able to deal with the rejection before it broke you? How long until you took Eris up on his offer and left Velaris forever?

You didn't have much time to think of an answer, not when a familiar cool pressure coiled at the small of your back, travelling up your spine and over your shoulders. The shadows drifted through your hair and you smiled sadly at them, at the sweet sign to tell you that you weren't alone.

"How did you find me?"

A shuffle sounded from behind you, shoes scraping along the pebbles, "This is our place. Where else would you go?"

You turned then, peering over your shoulder at him, examining him for a moment. Azriel certainly looked better, his eyes had lightened by a couple of hues and his skin was healthy an tanned to perfection, though, sadness and doubt still lingered in his eyes.

Silently cursing yourself, you turned back to the water. It was yours and Azriel's place, it always had been, until Elain came along that is and then it became your place. Whenever either of you had a bad day, the other would bring them there, to listen to the water rushing up on the rocks and watch the stars, and you'd talk, about anything that was bothering you and causing you any pain, and then suddenly you'd be alright again.

You rose from the ground, brushing little fragments of twigs and dirt from the golden swirls of your skirt, and Azriel gazed at you as you did, wondering how his best friend had become a stranger so quickly, "If I had known you were there tonight I wouldn't have taken him."

"I know," Azriel had his hands bundled into his pockets, afraid that if they lingered at his side then he would reach for you and risk a whole other world of pain, "I think we need to break the bond."

The world stopped moving.

"What?"

Azriel repeated, "I think we need to break the bond."

Break the bond.

It writhed in your chest, it writhed in pain and sorrow, striking you so deeply that you thought you may stop breathing, "I can't do it again. I can't be broken like this again, not with another Vanserra, not with anyone."

Thumping in your chest, your heart cried out, lurching around in its cage, and you struggled to form any words, "Az-"

"It's what's best for us, y/n."

No. No, no, no.

"How can you say that?" Azriel frowned, his hazel orbs softening, like he too was in pain, "I have done everything I can to give you space to process this, I moved out of our home, twice, to give you space to process whatever you need to process and feel whatever it is that you need to feel. I have gone 500 years being perfectly content of being your friend and that alone, because that was better than not having you at all. I stood by and watched you pine for Mor, and then her, the one who put such a wedge between us that I was reduced to polite hellos and nods. But I dealt with it, for you and your happiness. I dealt with all of the comparisons and pain, I dealt with the punishment of your feelings for her. I would deal with every ounce of hatred you throw at me if it meant that you would feel better, hoping that one day you'd realise that I have always been here for you, that I have always loved you in ways that no one else ever could."

You were pacing up and down the riverbank, pebbles knocking together as you walked, and Azriel stood before you unmoving, unknowing of what to say and only knowing that he needed it to end, "You never even gave it a chance," your choked whisper put him on edge.

Azriel had never seen you cry, had never heard of it happening, clearly Rhys had negated to tell him just how deeply the last few weeks had impacted you. To the point where you had actually cried. Tears gathered at your bottom lids and he noticed how you looked up at the sky to prevent them from falling.

"You never let me in."

Everything within Azriel was screaming at him to reach for you, the bond that he had frozen in place behind a wall of shadow was battering against the shield like a ram to break free and comfort you.

You were right, you had been his best friend, one of the few he could ever really depend on for everything. Elain had never liked you, she had always blamed it on her abilities not being able to harmonise with your own, but Azriel had always known it was deeper than that. Elain was a seer, and somehow it hadn't dawned on Azriel just how much she could have been hiding.

Elain hated it when he spent time with you, and being as in love as he was, he believed that it was down to some strange jealously that lingered on the surface. No one would have blamed Elain for her jealousy, you were truly a sweet creature, the other half to his marred coin that he had so carelessly tossed away. What if Elain had seen something and had chosen to lead Azriel away from you in order to preserve what she wanted them to share?

"I've given you everything I can," you sounded utterly defeated, "I don't know what else to do, Azriel."

His name was like a sonnet on your lips, one of heart-breaking sadness and longing, and he stepped to it, his shadows swirled around his body and drifted out to you. They had always adored you. They had always sought after you, a stark difference to their hiding from Elain.

"I would ruin you, y/n. You deserve so much more, so much better than me," his fingers twitched for you, he was so close yet so far from holding you, from inhaling the coconut scent of your shampoo and the scent of your soul, of soft salted breezes and jasmine, "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like you weren't worthy of love, and I'm so sorry for making you think that you were alone in the world," you had cocked your head to the side in question, "Rhys told me."

Azriel took another step forward, exhaling with relief when you didn't make a move to get away from him, "Love scares me. Elain had my heart in the palm of my hand and then crushed it, and then the bond snapped with you, with the one person I know would never hurt me, and I just couldn't risk it. I can't risk it. I can't risk being broken again, I can't risk hurting you."

All this time, when Azriel had been wallowing in the loss of Elain, of having to deal with her and Lucien's bond, he had completely neglected you, and your feelings. It was something you had never done to him, something you never could.

A gentle breeze flowed through the air, it carried your scent to him, and on inhaling it, he felt his entire body relax, he felt his aching disappear, and it was as though the world had gotten clearer. You turned away from him, hands folded over your chest and facing the river so that he couldn't see your tears, "I thought I was destined to be alone. The rules of your kind and the fae have never really applied to me, even the Cauldron doesn't understand me. I thought that it took the chance of love from me, but now I see that it was just some cruel joke."

Let her in. Feel her.

The shadows cooed to him, faintly, like a lullaby to a new-born babe.

"If it'll bring you peace," your voice broke, "Then break it. Break the bond. I'll find some other place to be."

Don't let her get away. Mate. She loves you. Love her. Let her in.

As though the world was tilting, Azriel let down that wall, he felt that bond slither over the seam of it to reach you, and then what he felt brought him to his knees.

Love. Wanting. Hope. Pain. Sorrow. Longing.

It consumed him with light, fighting off the demons that had been left to plague him, decimating them with the most pure substance in Prythian. Love.

When you heard his knees hit the ground you had turned and ran to where he knelt on the pebbles, meeting him as you slid onto your own, ignoring the stabbing into your skin, "Az? Are you alright? What's wrong?" You cupped his face in your hands and he felt each one of your fingertips flow life back into him.

The two tethers to the bond were dancing with one another, meeting in the middle and thrumming as two became one, turning dark skies into ones of bright sun and opulent warmth.

It was you. Sweet and fierce you. You who had always protected him, you who had always put him first even when he couldn't return it. You.

"Az? Talk to me, tell me what's happening. Do I need to call for Rhys? I'll get him right-"

Azriel stopped you before you could rise to your feet, the act of wrapping his fingers around your wrists enough to make your words vanish in your mouth, "You love me."

Settling into the space before him, knee to knee with him and his shadows itching to pull you closer, you didn't remove your hands from his, the feeling of it so powerful that it wiped all of your pain away, "I always have."

Walks along the Sidra. Visits to the bakery. The countless thoughtful gifts for Winter Solstice. The nights spent locked away in the cabin talking about dreams and fears.

Azriel's fingers drifted along your cheek before resting there, his thumb softly soothing the tightness in your jaw, "Why did you never say anything?"

"Because you deserve to be happy, even if it isn't with me," Azriel watched your bottom lip wobble, and that stream of love within him rippled with upset. His thumb moved to it, dragging across that plump flesh that he had always wondered of the taste.

Would you taste sweet or of lightly salted oceans? Of the air at dusk perhaps?

All he had ever chased was happiness, how foolish of him to be blind to the fact he had always had it within you.

"I think the only time I've ever truly been happy, at peace, has been with you. You've always felt like home," your eyes met and he offered you a small, genteel smile; his fingers moved to your hair, raking over your scalp and floating to rest on the small of your back, "I've missed you so much."

"You have?"

Azriel hummed in admittance, "The worst part of all of this was that I left the House of Wind to be near you, because I could be, nothing was in the way of us anymore, and I knew you'd be the only one patient enough to deal with me. It was selfish, but you've always been the rocks on which the ocean crashes, you've always been the one I can turn to without fear of judgement. You understand me."

"I can still be that person, Az. I can still be your friend."

Resting his forehead against yours, Azriel spoke lowly, like he had just awoken from slumber, "Do you know how hard it is for me to not take you back to that cabin right now and make you mine?" The carnal desire was dwelling within him, a rabid need that begged to be satisfied, "But you deserve better, y/n. Better than what I've done. So if you'll let me, I want to do this properly. I want to court you and make you feel like you're the only woman in the world, and when you're ready, not me, you, then you can accept it for the both of us. Because you deserve the magic of the bond more than me, you deserve this happiness."

"And if you don't want to, then that's fine. I can live with what I've done, and if you want to move to Autumn and find happiness there then I won't stand in your way. In no world would I ever stop you from finding love and passion and joy, because you deserve it y/n, you are everything that is beautiful in this world and then some. Every single part of you is destined for greatness, for a love so powerful that people drown in it."

"I hate what I've done to you, I hate that I've made you feel unworthy of a mating bond and I'll never forgive myself for it. But if you let me, I'd like to show you that I want this, that I want you, and you can decide for yourself if a life with me is something you want."

Silence fell between you but you didn't make a move to pull away, you knelt in place, peering up at him with your hands resting on his biceps, channelling the pulsing energy of the Sidra as it ebbed and flowed downstream, "A life with you is all I've ever wanted."

The bond glowed, golden and blinding, and Azriel was struggling to keep himself together as he basked in the ocean of your love and devotion, "Can I kiss you? Please?"

If he wasn't searching for it then he wouldn't have even noticed the tiniest hazed nod directed at him. Even the stars had stopped their flickering to focus on you, their most prized possession, the only one capable of harnessing their power and turning it into something blissful and good. It was why they chose you.

Closing the gap, Azriel tilted your head upward to give him better access to the lips that had often haunted his dreams; the scent of jasmine entwined with his own and he felt himself hold his breath as he closed that gap between you.

Your lips were as soft and warm as he had imagined them to be, they tasted of fresh saltwater and some kind of sweet fruit from the gloss you always wore that made them shimmer in any light. It stopped the world from turning for a moment, the universe watched on as Azriel sealed your fates. Moving his fingers from the small of your back to your neck and deepening the embrace of your lips, Azriel relished in the taste of you, in your warmth, in the way his soul sang and his shadows pulled you in closer to him. It was a feeling he had waited his entire existence for, one you had also yearned for.

Utterly magical. Soul consuming.

Everything made sense then. How everything you had both endured was meant to be, just so that you could end up entwined in that moment. All of the pain and sorrow, all of the false love and distance, all of the laughter and sweet memories, it was all worth it. It was worth every morsel of agony.

"Such a sweet creature. My sweet creature."

"Yours?" Azriel hummed, pressing dainty kisses to the tip of your nose and cheeks, and you closed your eyes to consume his touch and shuddered when his lips landed on your collarbone, caressing the skin there, "I think I could get used to that."

Authors Note

Hey besties!

I got very carried away with this - sorry if it's not great, these pain meds are really kicking my ass right now so I haven't even properly proof read this yet xo

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