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miryum · 4 months ago

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You've Got Stars in Your Eyes so Let's Paint the Sky (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Azriel “mourns” his wife

Warnings: Az pretending to be angsty (but happy ending), recreational drug use (tho not from Az or reader), gambling, drinking/alcohol, mentions of hangovers, timeline is a bit loosey goosey, a bit of Elain-bashing, guilt. (title is from Hold On by Extreme Music. Fic is not based off of it, but I was listening to it while editing and thought it fit well)

Word Count: 2.9k

Azriel was hardly one to get intoxicated. Yet there he was, sitting around the expansive fireplace with the other members of the Inner Court, tossing back his fifth glass of alcohol.

It was not an uncommon occurrence for the Court to get drunk every once in a while and indulge in pleasure after their missions. Azriel had just returned from a two-week long commission and was slouched in an armchair big enough for his wings to fold comfortably behind him. It hadn’t been very taxing, but the trip had required secrecy. He couldn’t speak to anyone, just having to let his shadows zip in and out of places, returning to whisper in his ear. Admittedly, he had missed his family and couldn’t say no when Cassian asked him to join in some indulgences.

A cloud of weed surrounded Cass as he took another drag. Even Rhys had an ornate pipe between his lips, though he had yet to light it. Feyre sat on his lap, dragging a slow hand through his hair. Mor had convinced Nesta to play a round of cards and the pair had money laid out for the winner. Elain was sitting next to them, awkwardly watching. Amren was in Summer Court, visiting Varian.

The Shadowsinger didn’t like to drink. It usually brought back painful memories at night, though he was able to forget about them during the fact. He liked the sting of alcohol and its taste, but not the effects. The pleasure of it burning down his throat was always welcome, but the headache in the morning was uncomfortable. As he would lay in bed that next morning, memories swirled in his mind, either one’s from the night before or from his childhood. It was a gamble he was very rarely willing to take. And yet, as he watched Rhys finally light his pipe, Azriel couldn’t help but take another down of his drink. He swallowed thickly and the alcohol was like fire. The moment he compared it, he glanced down at his hands. Flexing his fingers, Azriel turned his stare to his whiskey. It was a lovely amber that seemed to glow in the firelight.

Azriel’s eyes wandered to his brothers and their mates. His finger slid around the rim of his cup, sometimes catching on the glass and disrupting his rhythm. His lips pressed together and his gaze turned to the fire. Shadows slowly curled around him, resting in his lap like a cat. They shifted and creeped lazily up to settle on his forearms. One wisped around his ear before brushing against his cheek, like a kiss. A deep sadness settled within Azriel. His heart weighed down as if by an anchor.

He reached up and brushed at the leathers right over his chest, like he was searching for something that wasn’t there. One shadow climbed up to nestle in his hair, before settling down with a wistful sigh only Azriel could hear.

“You alright, brother?” Rhys asked, noting the shift in mood. Feyre glanced towards Azriel, resting her head on Rhys’ shoulder. Elain quickly looked over her shoulder.

The Illyrian nodded, exhaling through his nose. “Simply thinking,” is what he only replied.

Cassian blew out a smoke ring before turning to the conversation. “And what is it that you’re thinking of?”

Azriel only shook his head when he noticed Nesta peering up at him suspiciously. She laid down a card and Mor’s brows furrowed just a touch. It was things like these that one noticed being the Spymaster of the Night Court.

Rhys studied Az’s face carefully. It wasn’t unusual for Azriel to be quiet, but something about this was unsettling. Something was on his mind and there was only one person that made Azriel this melancholy. Unfortunately, the weed was lowering his inhibitions, and he forgot the promise he had made to Azriel when the Archeron sisters had first arrived. “Thinking of Y/n again?” he asked in a whisper, though his voice was powerful enough to sweep the room.

Mor instantly tensed, a contemplative frown on her face. Cassian blew out a long column of smoke, using his full chest to exhale. Feyre stared at Azriel, confusion swirling on her features. She stayed in the crook of her mate’s side, ever perceptive. Nesta rubbed a card between her thumb and pointer, about to set it down. She was the first to speak. “Who’s Y/n?”

The night was silent and it took a long time for Azriel to answer. He pressed his finger into the rim of his glass and the shadow in his hair seemed to deflate slightly. Even the shadows in his lap stilled before curling tighter around their master, either asking for comfort or trying to give it.

“My wife.”

Elain’s eyes grew wide and a thick blush covered her cheeks. Her stare darted down to his fingers, as if looking for a ring. When she didn’t find one, she turned away, head ducking down. Feyre lifted her head off of Rhys’ shoulder and even Nesta looked shocked. The senior Inner Circle, however, didn’t react. They all knew who Y/n was and they loved her dearly.

“I miss her. I miss my wife,” Azriel muttered, staring down into his drink.

Azriel could barely see through his tears. He stood, in a new custom suit, in front of his brothers. He sniffed once and Rhys clapped him on the back so hard he let out a cough.

“Where is she?” Cass muttered from his place behind Rhys. Rhys then turned around and gave him a sharp glare. Amren rolled her eyes at their display and Mor gave Azriel an encouraging nod. The females were standing opposite them.

It was then that the door to the garden opened and Azriel turned to see his mate, you, walk out.

You were wearing the dress you had always gushed about and your hair was styled beautiful. A bouquet of flowers was grasped in your hands, though Azriel could hardly see any of that. All he could see was your eyes. They had quickly become his favourite colour and something he loved to stare into.

The tears finally began to fall. He could hardly remember the words the High Priestess said, too lost in the feeling of your hands in his and how utterly beautiful you looked. You had insisted on a wedding after learning of the human custom. Your mating bond had snapped over seven years ago, but Azriel was more than happy to keep indulging in your wishes.

Morrigan and Amren were your ladies and Rhysand and Cassian were Azriel’s gentlemen, something you insisted was vital in a wedding. You had also insisted on exchanging rings, slipping the band onto his fingers before he repeated the gesture to you.

Finally, Azriel had the chance to kiss you. He had kissed you plenty of times before, even before you were mated, but this felt… more complete. With one hand on your hip, he pulled you close. You let out a giggle as his other hand cradled the back of your neck. His lips curved up into a devilish grin before dipping you low. You let out a lovely squeal, arms looping around his neck, before he silenced you with a fierce kiss.

And so you were wed. And he would never let you go.

Mor let out a sigh, rising from her place on the floor. She stood for a moment, as if unsure of what to do. Eventually, she decided to refill her own glass before offering the pitcher to Azriel. He took it thankfully. “I miss her as well,” she said. “But it does not help to dwell on her, Azriel. It only makes you sad, and you know this.”

“What- what happened?” Elain asked, clearing her throat. Feyre shot her a stern look but Nesta hummed in agreement. As much as Feyre wanted to be considerate, her curiosity also burned.

In response to Azriel’s silence, Rhys provided quietly, “I sent her on a mission. Years ago.” The muscles in his jaw jumped and Feyre made a sympathetic noise, running a hand through his hair again. “I don’t believe Azriel has ever forgiven me since.”

Azriel let out a derisive scoff. He pressed his lips together and gave Rhys an eye roll. However, after a moment, he said, “it comes and goes.”

Elain shifted her position so she was sitting a little closer to Azriel and facing him. “How many years ago?” she asked, her voice calm and consoling. “Do you still have your ring?”

Cassian was the one to answer, brows pulling together like a drawstring. “Only two years,” he said. It sounded like he was scolding Elain, but Azriel didn’t notice, instead focusing on a shadow that was weaving around his fingers.

The shadow drifted up to rest on Az’s collarbone and it dipped down to touch his leathers. With a sad, nostalgic smile, he tugged out a chain that was hidden beneath his clothing. Hanging down from it was a gold ring. “Even before her mission, I thought it would be best to keep it out of sight,” he murmured. “In case I was ever caught. I wouldn’t want to risk her.”

Mor, who had been drifting around the room, gave Azriel’s shoulder a squeeze as she passed.

Meanwhile, Elain glanced towards Feyre, a pleading look in her eyes. Rhys turned towards his mate and let his hand glide up and down her side. Feyre finally asked, “did the bond ever snap for the two of you?”

Azriel’s entire expression softened and practically everyone could see his shoulders relax. He wasn’t sure if it was the memories or the fire that sent a warm feeling through his chest and throughout his body.

You stood on your balcony, doors wide open and arms crossed. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want to be at the Town House. You wanted to be at your shared apartment with Azriel, one that was located in the city center. But, seeing as Az was being a stubborn male, you had decided to spend the night away.

Of course, Azriel wasn’t going to let you. You saw his shadows before you saw him. They zipped to you, racing up your body. They twirled around you excitedly and you couldn’t help your smile. Even if you were mad at the Shadowsinger, you couldn't stay mad at his shadows. “You know I love you, yes?” came his smooth, quiet voice from behind you.

You let out a breath and nodded. Azriel came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. His chin rested on your shoulder and in your peripheral vision, you could see his wings twitch next to you, as if wanting to embrace you too.

“That’s not an apology,” you noted.

It was Azriel’s turn to sigh and his breath tickled your skin. “I know,” he murmured. He didn’t say anything for a long time. Entering your relationship, you were aware that apologising was hard for Azriel. He wasn’t used to making mistakes and was usually so guarded and careful that he didn’t. But you were different. You made him feel things that no one else had and he didn’t know what to do with those feelings. He was bound to make some mistakes.

Finally, he turned his head into your neck and whispered out, “I am sorry, my love.”

That’s when the bond snapped.

Your soul was yanked towards Azriel’s and the centre of the universe seemed to change. Everything was now focused on him. Everything now made sense. And based on the hopeful, desperate expression on Azriel’s face, he felt it too.

“We didn’t see them until practically a month after their mating ceremony,” Mor snickered. Cass let out a loud laugh, the weed making everything seem much more funny than it actually was. Elain pressed her lips together.

Azriel shook his head fondly. His shadows suddenly darted away from him, but he was too inebriated to care. “Shut your mouth, Morrigan,” he muttered, though he was smiling. “What can I say? I love Y/n. It was a nice month.” He took a sip of his whiskey, trying to hide his grin.

Yet, before he could start reminiscing, a knock sounded against the wood of the doorframe. “Az, what are you telling these lovely people?” a new voice spoke up, a teasing lilt in the tone.

Azriel instantly stood. “By the Cauldron,” he murmured reverently. He didn’t notice the Archeron sisters peering curiously at the newcomer as he launched himself into your arms. You were obstructed from view to the sisters as Azriel’s wings curled around you protectively as he held you close. His grip was desperate and loving as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. “My love,” he whispered out so that only you could hear. “I didn’t know you were visiting.”

You held your mate close, a hand brushing calmly in his curls and your other on his back. “I’m not visiting,” you replied softly. “Rhys said I could be done. With the mission, I mean.”

Azriel had half a mind to turn and shoot an accusing look at Rhys, but he wouldn’t take his eyes away from your beautiful face. “My wife,” he muttered. He took your hand in his and kissed the ring you wore proudly. “Forgive me.”

“What for?” you asked.

He shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours. “That promise I made to you years ago – I didn’t keep it. I let my emotions get the best of me as I missed you. Rhys didn’t deserve my anger for sending you away.”

You let out a laugh that was beauty incarnate to Azriel’s ears and Feyre shared an bemused look with Nesta. Since when did Azriel apologise? And for being rude to his brothers, of all things. To add to it, he had been smiling more with you in his arms than the entire time they had known him. Was it simply that the Shadowsinger had missed his mate? Was there another layer underneath that lay dormant until you were there to peel it back? What was Azriel truly like when the love of his life was home?

Cassian called you over and you exchanged hugs with the rest of the Inner Circle. Mor was ecstatic to have you back – her best friend had returned. You were disappointed that Amren wasn’t there to greet you, but you understood the needed time with her mate. After all, you were sure Azriel wouldn’t let you out of his sight after being reunited.

You were then introduced to the Archeron sisters. You gave Feyre a little teasing bow and greeted, “my High Lady.” Feyre scoffed and swept you into a welcoming hug.

Nesta was next to greet you and you congratulated her on being able to put up with Cassian. Azriel laughed at your joke, arm around your waist. Throughout greetings and introductions, he had never left your side. Every so often, he would place a kiss on your temple or give your hip a small squeeze. He truly was a different man around you.

Eventually, you stood in front of Elain. “Azriel made it sound like you were dead,” she said in hello. Her voice made it sound like she was passing blame onto your mate, but you tried to brush it off.

With a laugh, you said, “well, he gets rather grumpy whenever I’m away for too long. I’m sure you understand.” Some of Azriel’s shadows brushed lovingly along your arms and face.

“He wasn’t wearing his ring, you know?” She laughed along with you, albeit a bit awkwardly. “You have a lovely mate. You’re very lucky to have him.”

You raised your brow and exchanged a look with Mor. “Yes,” you agreed slowly, thinking that was an odd thing to comment on. “But Azriel can choose to wear his ring or not. And he talked to me about it beforehand. We both thought it best to keep our marriage under wraps as we went on missions.” You held up your left hand and Azriel took that as his cue to nuzzle his nose into your hair. “I put mine on only a couple hours ago, when I knew I’d be coming back.”

Elain’s cheeks filled with heat and she nodded. Muttering some things about how she was glad to meet you, she stepped back and towards Nesta.

Impatient as ever when it came to you, Azriel soon ushered you away with the complaint on his lips that your attention wasn’t only on him. He wanted to see you back in your home. After mating, he had chosen a wonderful house special just for the two of you. Over the months, it had gotten harder and harder to live there without your presence. Oh, how he had missed you.

When you were finally alone, you cradled his face in your hands, finally able to kiss your mate after two years. One hand slipped down to pull on the chain that hung around his neck. “I need you to wear this now,” you whispered.

Azriel chuckled and raised a brow. “Jealous, my love?” He pressed close to you, unable to take the feeling of you not cradled in his arms any longer.

“I think I’m entitled to some jealousy,” you replied. “After almost twenty-eight months without hearing your voice, seeing your face, or touching your skin, I get some leeway.”

“Hmm, that you do,” he muttered, slipping his ring back on proudly. “Now, will my beautiful wife accompany me to our home?”

“With pleasure.”

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 3 months ago

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Ludos Imperiales 8

Summary: Acknowledging the bond between them creates a challenge Reader wasn't prepared for.

Content Warnings: Jealous!Azriel, Slight NSFW; Mentions of Death and War.

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

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I wish we could stay like this forever: The first rays of sunlight peeking through the drawn curtains, the lightweight comforter warm from the large body at my back. The scent of jasmine and citrus lingers on one side of the sheets, night-chilled mist and cedar on the other. The tether in my chest warms with every steady heart beat against my spine. Sleep threatens to pull me back under, contentment a yawning precipice in which I dangle dangerously along the edge.

I want nothing more than to close my eyes as soon as they open. I wish time would still and there would be no demands, no threats over our heads, no Empire to ruin these precious few moments of peace. But the stomping and shouting of guards outside the door brings all thoughts of bliss and peace to a screeching halt. There very much are threats over our head and an Empire out there doing its damndest to ruin everything that is good in this world.

I force myself to sit up, to throw off the warm comforter and the arm still looped over my waist. Force my body to move, to not linger in the early morning light, to not roll over and trace the swirling patterns of my companion’s tattoos over the firm planes of his chest.

There will be other mornings.

Rhys is gone. Cassian still snores from his bed, half hidden in the shadows. Azriel sits up with a grunt beside me. The slight tremor of disappointment that runs down the tether that links us

tells me he’s not thrilled about the arrangement either.

If I had more time, I’d be a little more mortified about the drool I feel crusted to my cheek, or the way my hair is sprouting out the side of my head like one of Anise’s vines. “Shit! It’s late!”

Azriel’s hazel gaze flicks to the door. “We wanted to give you as much time as possible to rest.”

My heart constricts painfully tight in my chest. Last night was an ordeal, yes, but I have no physical wounds, not like they do, and no one has offered them the same luxury. I want to kiss him. Want to crawl back into bed and into his lap, tangle my fingers in the thick locks of his hair and kiss him until we can both forget how awful the last couple of days have been. I want to lose myself in him, let him lose himself in me until there is no longer all this shit between us. I want to know what the bond might feel like if we had the time to explore it properly. Instead, I lean forward and give his scarred hand a squeeze.

“Thank you.” And before he can even respond, I’m sprinting for the secret door.

Rhys already has it open. It looks like he’s been watching the door to make sure the guards don’t try to come in before I’m gone. There’s no time to share anything other than a conspiratorial nod before the darkness of the tunnel envelops me and the door locks shut behind me.

I have to sneak past Cook as he gets the stove lit for the day, his back turned as I sprint from the cellar, the noise of the door opening only covered because he keeps banging logs against the old iron doors to make them fit. The Guards have made collecting the right size firewood difficult, as they’ve been stealing his carefully crafted supply to make fires to keep themselves warm during the night shift.

Thank the Mother and every god of luck we have that no one sees me run down the hall and back into my room.

There is still a little bit of the Raven’s blood on the wall. I find myself shuddering as I race past it to get to my closet. The Senate Meeting is in an hour, maybe less. What I would give to have wings!

I throw on the first dress I can find and dip into the bathroom to fix my hair. Shit I’m going to look awful! At least I can blame some of it on the ride over, but Father will never let me hear the end of it. Hell, if Brannagh and Amarathan don’t beat him to it.

I wrangle my hair into a braid that I wrap around the back of my head and pin in place with a gold clip that’s sharp enough to stab someone with, just in case. I shouldn’t be totally unarmed. Scrambling, I remember my Mother’s blade in my vanity drawer, and I lose precious seconds finding a way to hide it in the extra fabric tucked into the gold belt around my waist.

Anise meets me at my bedroom door, looking solemn. “I looked into those other gladiators like you asked.”

I loop my arm through hers. “Walk with me, please.” Her stiffness tells me she’s still mad, but she obliges me.

“The Attor is always top of the list, you know this.” She says with a sigh. At least for now, she has decided to pretend to tolerate whatever nonsense she thinks I’m getting into. I will take this fragile peace while it lasts.

I shiver. “Hard pass. What are their other options?”

“Senator Thessian has three Elven archers who have never been beaten.”

Archers leave too many variables. Especially since last time they’d flooded the arena and the Elves had won by finding a perch on some driftwood and slowly picking the competitors off one at a time. They need someone who can match their physicality with a sword, regardless of the obstacles in the arena.

“Too many uncontrollable variables.”

She sighs again as we inch closer to the front doors, and the Guards that stand waiting. “Senator Kallias just acquired an orc from the Western Wastes. He is untested, but his staff says he paid a pretty coin for it.”

Better. I like those odds a little more.

I kiss her cheek as we reach the front door. “You’re wonderful, Anise! I will find a way to thank you later.”

She frowns at me as her weathered hand squeezes my arm. “You shouldn’t go alone.”

In earshot now, a young Fae guard says, “She will have a squad after the events of last night.”

I fight back the urge to roll my eyes. A squad of males loyal to my Father. I’m just as likely to be dragged off the horse and murdered in the road by them than another Raven. A thought that does make me uneasy. I could, probably, hold them off on my own, but truth be told, now that I’ve been forced to stop and take a breath, I do still feel shaky. Training and muscle memory keeps me composed, but last night was a lot.

It will cost me precious time, but the idea forms easily, and I turn to Anise. “Good thing I have a few gladiators to protect me.”

Her frown deepens. “I am not comforted by that.”

I pull free of her and turn to the guard. I can’t bring Rhys with me; bringing the figurehead of a known rebellion into a Senate meeting would be grounds enough for Father to take my head here and now. I can’t bring Cassian either, he’ll need every precious second he can get for that leg to heal. “Bring Azriel to me.”

The guard hesitates, clearly taken back.

I keep walking towards the stables. “Quickly, or it’ll be your head I throw on the chopping block for making me late.”

That does the trick.

I bite back a grin as I make it to the stables in record time and instruct Grayson, a wiry, half dryad stable boy, to prepare two horses. By the time the Guard brings Azriel, I’m settled in the saddle.

“The Emperor will not like this,” the Guard begins.

“I did not ask for your opinion.” I state, using my best courtly voice. Mother always used to tell me I sounded just like my Father. It had always felt like an insult, but at least it has its uses.

Besides, the way Azriel grins as he swings into his own saddle is enough to ease the discomfort. I think it’s a flicker of pride I feel down the bond from him, but I’m not totally certain. Perhaps I’m imagining it, but I sit a little straighter in the saddle regardless. I want to make all of them proud. I want them to know I can do this, that I’m not some fragile little girl. I can handle what they’ve asked of me.

We head out before the Guard are totally ready, giving us a bit of space between us and them. There isn’t exactly room to talk at the pace we set, but I appreciate the breathing room all the same. At least, for now, it doesn’t look like they’ve been instructed to stab me in the back.

The ride to the Capital is a blur all the way up until we’re in the city once more. The crowds are significantly less than yesterday, but there are still crushed roses and streamers in the streets. Worse, the crucifixes still stand, the Illyrian bodies still pinned.

I nearly bite through my tongue with how hard I’m clenching my jaw. Some of those males were still alive yesterday. None are today. There is no obvious intent to remove them either, to offer a proper burial. People walk past like they don’t notice the carrion coming in to pick the bodies apart.

Azriel remains stiff and silent beside me. I try my best not to look at him, to not make it obvious that I am checking on him now that the Guard have finally caught up.

I do not breathe any easier once inside the Palace. The place feels like it should have heads on spikes posted at every entrance. All the glittering gold pillars and sparkling fountains feel out of place in a spot built upon the blood of so many innocent lives. I never liked it here, but more and more this place is starting to give me the same anxiety I’d have walking into a dragon’s lair.

The Guards follow close behind, as I once again hold the chain around Azriel’s throat. It feels heavier today, the metal hot from the sun.

“You’re welcome to leave the brute with us, Highness,” one of them sneers. “We’d watch over him carefully.”

I’m still debating how much time it would take me to strangle the male with the chain as we reach the Audience Chamber.

“Ignore him,” Azriel huffs in my ear. As soon as we’d gotten off the horses he’d taken his position behind me, close enough that my hip brushed his if I turned even a little. Maybe it’s a little too close for the story we’ve been selling, but it puts him between me and anyone trying to stab me in the back like a giant shield and he knows it. I don’t like that he doesn’t have armor to protect him, should something happen, but we simply haven’t had the time to find any. A situation I’ll need to handle before we leave the city.

The Chamber doors are still open, by some miracle, and bits of conversation float towards me as I enter. All of which suddenly halt as soon as the gathered group of elites realize who I’ve brought with me.

I square my shoulders, even as the heat of Azriel’s withering glare skids across my shoulder. He’s very expressive today, and I have a sinking feeling that’s on me. Our proximity makes the bond relax, not so taut between my ribs any more, but it also heightens emotions. My protectiveness mounts the longer we’re together, I catch myself leaning towards violence anytime somebody looks at him wrong and from what the nymphs used to tell me, it’s usually worse for males.

Today will be interesting.

We walk down the center of the room, towards the throne where my Father lounges, being fanned by two slaves with palm fronds. Amarantha already sits to his right, drinking from a goblet of wine, her mood sour. Both their eyes narrow in on me, then Azriel, as the crowd dramatically parts, like we have the plague.

I give a brief curtsy to my Father as I take the seat next to him. A seat that has long been empty and was more for show than use. Nothing my Mother ever said in these meetings came to pass. The rest of the senate seats are filled by males, Amarantha and Brannagh the only exceptions.

“Be seated,” Father calls out, waving a hand in irritation.

A servant comes with a tray of wine and fruits, and despite the rumbling of my stomach, I wave it away. I’d like to not test my luck today; I’m just as likely to be poisoned as I am stabbed and even Azriel can’t do anything if I ingest arsenic.

The Emperor leans over in his seat, gray eyes sharp, jaw clenched tight. He’d never hit me in front of so many people, but that doesn’t mean I’m safe from his wrath either.

I brace myself, hands folded gently in my lap, even as Azriel tenses from his perch behind my seat.

“So good of you to show up,” he snarls.

“I had an interesting visitor last night,” I say and I hate the way my voice shakes.

“So you brought a known rebel into my council meeting in retaliation?” He hisses.

There’s a heavy layer of wine on his breath and it takes every bit of training to keep myself from trying to scoot further out of his reach. If he’s been up drinking, that’s a sign we’re moving in the right direction, he’s so off his game he’s unravelled, but that makes him dangerous. There is no telling what he could do next and my first impulse is to curl into a ball and make myself as small as possible.

“I questioned my safety in the hands of your guards on the empty roads over here,” I say, digging my nails into my palms to get the words out.

“But not with this savage?” He gestures with his chin towards Azriel.

All I can see is red. If I had not used so much energy to kill the Raven last night, my powers might not be slumbering so deep beneath my skin now. For that I am grateful. I do not need one more thing to worry about today.

“Their interests are in keeping this deal for their people, that’s hard to do if I’m dead,” I retort through my teeth.

“We’ll discuss this later,” he snarls.

My hands shake in my lap as Azriel’s shadow makes its way around my ear again, murmuring softly in a strange language as it rubs itself against my temple soothingly. It is an effort to breathe evenly and I do my best to turn my attention away from my Father and to study those in attendance today instead.

Thessian, Kallias and Beron sit on my right. Eris stands behind his father’s seat, serving as a guard today, and the auburn haired male winks at me when my gaze passes to him. I hope that means he did that research I asked him for yesterday.

Azriel’s hand tightens on the back of my seat with just enough pressure I hear the metal groan. Thankfully, no one seems to notice but me.

On the opposite side of the room sits Dagdan and Brannagh, their seats pushed together instead of giving them the five feet of distance all the other chairs have, just so no one is close enough to throw a punch if things get heated, as it often does. Next to them are senators Helion and Tamlin. Helion studies Azriel intently over the edge of his goblet of wine, but I can’t tell if it’s genuine interest or the same disdain everyone else has been throwing his way.

Tamlin broods silently in a stack of parchment in his hand, quiet without Lucien to balance him out.

Directly across from us are some of the few Senators who were not previously Lords of Prythian, as it was our biggest conquered province. They’re also the only ones on the Council who aren’t Fae. Giais is the only Elf. Ancient and ethereal, he’s been on the council since my Great Grandfather, though he doesn’t look a day older than me. Acacius had once held Amarantha’s title, but the Goblin had lost an arm in one of the last battles of the Giant War, and had been given a seat on the Council in his retirement. Maximus, who’s self-proclaimed title is Great Lord of the Dragon Shifters; he wears no shirt, but his entire top half is drenched in gold--gold rings with giant gems atop his long fingers, golden bracelets from wrist to elbow, a dozen gold chains in varying lengths and a belt, all catching the light and nearly blinding anyone who looks too closely at him. He’s the youngest male here, with the exception of Dagdan. The only seat empty is Senator Romulius’; the Nephilim away dealing with an uprising in his adjoining provinces.

There are no Humans or Giants on the Council. No Nymphs or Dryads. It used to be more diverse, but as Father’s paranoia grew, so did his prejudices, and the Council became smaller and more segregated as time passed.

“Who shall start today’s session?” Helion calls out as the chamber quiets and the doors close.

It’s like being sealed in a tomb. I wish I’d said yes to the wine, I think I might risk being poisoned just to not have to sit with the swirling anxiousness in the pit of my stomach.

Father gestures to Amarantha with a grunt that tells everybody we’ve found him in the middle of one of his moods. The quiet shifts to something more uneasy, shared glances passing between the senators. They all know this means they must tread carefully.

“Tax season is upon us,” Amarantha says, her voice carrying through the antechamber. “Are there any concerns we need to discuss?”

Tamlin waves his stack of parchment in the air. “My province is still recovering from last year’s tax season. Our prisons are full of debtors. My advisors are organizing things as best they can, but rumors of…” he pauses, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as his eyes flick to my Father. “...unrest are spreading. I would like to request a heavier presence of the Praetorian, just to ensure things go smoothly, if they can be spared?”

“Why should your inability to lead your people be our problem?” Acacius snarls. “Every other province has managed to reign in its citizens but you.”

“I would hardly call the situation in Illyria reigned in,” Helion says over the edge of his goblet.

Azriel tenses, wings rustling behind him. It takes everything in me not to turn and take his hand.

“Illyria is an outlier,” Amarantha snaps. “One that has been dealt with.”

Father’s head swivels to look at Azriel with the same air of an owl getting its sights on a mouse. A shiver runs down my spine as his eyes narrow in on my mate.

“Was it dealt with, Shadowsinger?”

The chamber quiets, every eye landing on Azriel. He keeps his composure near perfect, save for the hand still gripping the back of my chair with enough force to dent it.

“Aren’t the crucifixions testament enough?” He growls through his teeth.

Father grins wickedly. “Since my daughter is so certain she needed you here with her, why don’t you go ahead and tell this council exactly what happens to provinces that do not comply with our laws? Perhaps Tamlin needs a reminder about why he should keep his people in line?”

Tamlin frowns, hand tightening around the stack of parchment.

“What provinces?” Azriel snaps. “There is nothing left of Illyria but ash. It is a graveyard of women and children.” His voice breaks on the last word and down the bond comes the flash of a memory: A small body crumpled on scorched earth, a blood splattered doll clutched in its too small hand.

My stomach shoots into my throat.

Amarantha grins on the other side of my Father, pleased with my mate’s discomfort, pleased with her efforts of destruction in the name of the Empire.

“Sons must pay for the sins of the father.” Dagdan wins more than a few accolades for the sentiment. Beron goes as far to salute him with his wine glass.

“You must have known this would happen?” Brannagh counters. “Surely you knew the cost of your rebellion would be their heads? This is the price of rejecting the Empire and its protections.”

I glance around the room, looking for anyone to argue, anyone to challenge them. Helion shoots me a sympathetic look, but he says nothing. Eris shifts his weight behind his father, but he won’t look my way. They might be uncomfortable, but not enough to challenge them. Not enough to take a stand. We truly have no allies.

“You have never been hungry,” Azriel says, his voice low. The white-knuckled grip on my chair tells me he’s trying his hardest to keep his voice down. The shadow curled around my ear moves with the agitation the rest of them have to feel, even in their hidden perch behind his wings. “You have never been without clothes. Without a roof. You have never gone without clean water, without people to tend to your every need. You have never known what it is to crawl for your basic necessities and then have them ripped from you purely because the people over you could. My people were dying. As are yours-”

“That’s enough,” Father says dismissively.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep back the growl that threatens to slip past my teeth. How can he be so flippant about it? So careless? I have always known him to be cruel but I hadn’t realized how truly heartless he is. How heartless they all are as they laugh off the dismissal like Azriel is beneath them. As if his story is nothing more than a piece of fiction and he a worthless storyteller.

My hands ball into fists in my lap, power awakening in my chest, bubbling up like a wave, ready to wash over everything in this godsdamned room--

Azriel’s hand settles on my shoulder, squeezing gently in warning.

The Council goes back to arguing uselessly, forgetting immediately that Azriel is even here. It is for our benefit in the long run, I suppose, but I can’t get past it. How can they all be so blind?

Azriel’s hand slides down my shoulder slowly, rubbing a soothing line down my spine until he feels my breathing even out, until I unclench my fists in my lap and he’s sure I won’t explode. I tamper down on my power like I always do; always trapping it down beneath my skin so that no one notices it’s there. My shoulders slump. Why didn’t I say anything when I had the chance? Why do I always sit here uselessly?

Maybe I am no better than they are.

The topic shifts to clearing clogged trade routes. Thesian offers his daughter in a political marriage to Kallias’s son as if bartering items of clothing. The marriage is arranged in a matter of minutes, without either of their consent. It’ll be for the good of the Empire, that’s all they care about.

Helion turns the conversation to imports on wine for a while after that.

I feel myself slipping back into my hollow shell. My voice escapes me, buried with my powers until I feel nothing. Until the words fade in and out of my ears, eyes vacantly held on a spot on the wall. They talk around me like I’m not here, like it doesn’t matter that I’d ever left. Unaware that all of their problems are so petty and stupid when there are bodies of desperate men rotting in the street as we speak.

I want to see this whole damned Empire burn.

My thoughts remain on this one point for so long I don’t notice time slipping away until Father announces the meeting over and waves us all out.

My movements feel stiff as I finally stand. How long have I been clenching my shoulders? My teeth?

Azriel follows, chest against my back, as I move robotically towards the exit, and dart into a quiet adjoining hall. Father will be around shortly, it is not like him to let me escape without further incident, but I just need a moment to take a breath.

“How do you do this?” I whisper as the door shuts behind us. “How do you not explode every time they fucking speak?”

Azriel puts his hands on my shoulders and turns me around to face him. “Usually I imagine how it will feel to drive my blade through Hybern’s throat.”

This close to him I’m eyelevel with his collarbone. I have to look directly at the collar around his neck; the skin beneath pink from being rubbed raw over and over again by the iron. My hands reach for it instinctively, as if I have any power to take the pain away.

“But lately…” he shakes his head as one hand leaves my shoulders to catch my wrist as I fiddle uselessly with the collar. It’s not coming off without a key and I have nothing in my arsenal to make it easier to carry.

Useless once again.

“Lately I just worry that he’d take it out on you, if I stepped out of line, and I can’t risk that.”

The raised edges of his scars are a stark contrast to the soft, smooth skin of my wrists. I have no battle scars, no obvious signs of my Father’s abuse; my skin is unblemished and soft in a way that reminds me exactly why Cassian said I was a pampered princess. I’ve never had to do anything this hard. Never had to fight for what I wanted.

“It’s not like I don’t deserve it,” I blurt and he reels back a step like I’d hit him.

“Don’t talk like that,” he snarls.

“Cassian was right about me,” I return. “I’ve never had to work for anything in my life. I’ve never stood up for anything. I always shut up and shut down and look the other way. I should have done something before. I should have done something now!”

“You are doing something,” he says carefully, hazel eyes darting to the door, conscious of where we are and who might be lurking just outside.

“Not enough.”

He steps back into my space so he can cup my cheek. Damn me and my fragile resolve but I lean into that gentle touch like it’s my lifeline. He’s so warm and comforting and that broken, touch starved thing in me leans in like a moth to flame, so desperate for even a hint of affection. I hate myself for it. Hate that this is all it takes for me to take a breath.

“We have to take it slow,” he bites out. “We have to move carefully. We are under so much scrutiny. I know that it is hard, but you did exactly what we need you to do today. You have played your part. The time for action will come later.”

“I feel useless,” I confess.

“Hate to drag up bad memories, but you killed a guy last night,” he counters. “That’s far from useless.”

“That needed to be done.”

“So does this,” he assures.

I sigh and lean my head down against his chest. His heartbeat is steady and even against my skin. Breath warm against the back of my neck. I wish I could melt into him, let him consume every bit of my being until there was nothing left of me.

Azriel wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me flush against his chest. My body short circuits, frozen for a moment as I try to comprehend what he’s doing. I don’t remember the last time somebody hugged me. Yes, last night he’d slept with an arm around me, but that is different somehow. I don’t immediately know what to do with this. Last night had a purpose, I’d needed the security to sleep. This was in comfort. And no one had comforted me like this in years. Not even Anise when my Mother had died.

His embrace is all encompassing, strong arms tight around my middle. Something in me cracks open and tears pool in my eyes as I slowly work up the courage to wrap my arms around his middle, conscious of where his wings sit in the middle of his spine.

The bond hums in approval, or maybe that’s his shadows, more of them than the one curled around my ear move to caress my arms and back.

A breath stutters out of me, trapped by the lump in my throat.

“We will beat him,” he promises into my hair, lips brushing the top of my head. “I can take a few punches on the way to that victory, Princess.”

I tighten my grip around his waist. “Not if I turn them to mist, you don’t.” The words are comically muted by his shirt, but they draw a chuckle from him all the same. The sound is rich, like melted chocolate and I’d do anything to hear it again.

“Vicious, little thing,” he tuts.

I work up the resolve to pull my head out of his chest so I can look up at him. “I’ll be whatever you need me to be.” Whatever it takes, no matter the cost, I will see this collar off him, all of them; I will see his people free.

He practically has to duck to look me in the eyes at this angle, but that intense hazel gaze goes straight to my mouth. Heat flashes down the bond, a glimmer of desire so intense I’d think I might have imagined it were it not for the way his tongue darts out to run over his own full lips. It feels as if we share a breath, a heartbeat. I meant the words in a very literal sense, for the sake of this mission, but I think I might mean them in other ways too.

He leans in and I feel his heartbeat stutter in his chest. Or maybe that’s mine. I cannot tell us apart anymore. What is him and what is me is suddenly very intertwined.

In contrast to the firm planes of his body, his lips are sinfully soft as they brush tentatively over my own. I lose all sense of time and reason as I lean up on my toes to close the distance between him, to finish the kiss.

And then the door to the hallway opens.

Time comes in a blazing rush and I suddenly remember where the hell we are as we jerk away from each other like we’d been thrown.

Eris saunters in with his thumbs looped in the golden belt around his trim waist, grinning like a cat. There’s no way he didn’t see us.

“There you are,” he purrs. The shadows of this hidden servant’s hall suit him, bathe his sun kissed complexion in dark hues that make his amber eyes glow like coals. There’s a shade of gold dust in his unbound auburn hair. Everything about the Autumn heir seems to glow, even in the shadows of the world. “I had a feeling you’d be hiding in one of these secret places. You always did like them better.”

I don’t know how to explain myself. I just start smoothing my hands over my skirts, trying to find some semblance of control as my head spins. He can’t tell anyone what he saw! Azriel’s dead if does.

“Just needed to collect my thoughts,” I say, voice uneven.

Amber eyes flick to Azriel and roam over him slowly. I can’t tell if it’s admiration or that look Eris sometimes gets as he decides how much of a challenge a fight would be. Honestly, both those looks are pretty much the same. Eris has always toed the line between flirting and fighting.

“And his?” It’s teasing, not judgment, that much I can tell, but by the way Azriel’s wings open and shut behind him with a snap says he doesn’t share the understanding.

“Eris,” I warn.

He shrugs as he comes to stand in the space Azriel had just held. I don’t miss the snarl that flashes across my mate’s features, or the way his hands clench and un-clench at his sides. He can’t do anything to Eris, not without risking his head. He knows it just as much as Eris does, which is why the male keeps stepping into my space, testing what he can get away with.

“Relax,” Eris tuts. “Who am I going to tell?”

“You want me to make a list?” I retort.

Eris shakes his head, long locks of hair kissing his high cheekbones. “Now now, what fun would that be?”

Fun. Eris might be a bastard, but he is not cruel like his father. Beron would sell out his own mother for a chance at power, but Eris? Eris likes to play cat and mouse. He likes to collect secrets and trade with them. His influence in the court is strong not because he’s paid for it, but because he knows enough to get people to move in the ways he wants without having to lift a finger. Crafty and cunning as a fox; he’s dangerous, but he’s not an enemy, not yet.

“What do you want?” I sigh.

He grins, teeth perfect in his face. “I heard you’re looking for a husband?”

Azriel actually growls at that, stalking towards, shadows slipping out from behind his wings.

Eris rolls his eyes at him before turning back to me. “Have you decided on one yet?”

The obvious dismissal, or perhaps the blatant disregard to the danger he’s in, makes me pause. Why is he playing with fire like this? Is he really that confident Azriel won’t rip his head off his shoulders?

“I’m not on the decision committee,” I say, but I keep my eyes on my mate, a hand raised in his direction, silently begging him not to do something stupid.

The gaze that was so focused on my mouth just seconds ago drops to my hand and he stills, teeth clenched so hard I can see a tick in his jaw. A shadow snaps angrily behind him, like they’re fighting the grip he has on them.

“I should think your word would have some sway,” Eris muses.

He can’t be serious? “You want to marry me?”

“Most females swoon under such an implication,” he starts.

“I thought you preferred males?” I counter.

He grins at that and I am not so blind that I don’t understand why people swoon when he gives them a few seconds of his undivided attention. “I don’t discriminate.”

We’re getting off subject.

Azriel may have allowed me to call him off the attack, but that doesn’t stop him from taking up his position at my back again. The rise and fall of his chest as he tries to steady his breathing is hot and heavy against me, I’m suddenly very well aware of his size compared to mine. The thin line of his restraint is fraying, worse than it was in the Council Chambers.

“Fine, I will pose the suggestion to my Father.”

The bond flares with an anger so hot it seers my insides. I can practically taste Azriel’s rage as it floods down the tether between us.

“Good, then this will be our little secret, won’t it?” Eris purrs, smug expression shot in Azriel’s direction.

Gods they’d kill each other if I wasn’t physically standing between them.

“Yes,” I concede. How has this day gotten so far away from me?

He slides his thumbs back in his belt and strides towards the exit on the other side of the hall. “Oh,” he throws over his shoulder, “by the way, you’ll want to ask for Kallias’s Orc in the arena. It’d be the best match-up for your little pets.”

Azriel is shaking at my back, shadows unfurling from behind his wings like snakes, bathing the room in darkness as Eris opens the door.

“I look forward to our future, Highness.”

Azriel explodes as the door shuts behind Eris, shadows lashing against the walls so hard the lights flicker. His wings snap open, apex talon striking the wall and leaving an angry slash in the paint. His chest rises and falls rapidly, breath rasping out of him like he can’t get air in fast enough.

I spin to face him, taking his face in my hands. He has to get this under control or someone else is going to come running down the hallway. “Azriel-”

“No,” he chokes out, scarred hands gripping my wrists like a vice. “You can’t!”

Panic floods down the bond so fast it sweeps away all that rage like a tidal wave, ice filling my veins. I’m losing him and fast.

“You can’t!” He repeats and the ground shutters beneath his feet.

I panic, worried about who else might be close enough in the hallway to hear, and do the only thing I can think of to get his focus back: I surge up on my toes for leverage and press my lips against his. It’s messy, and not at all how I wanted this to go, but it does the trick. His shadows still, their hissing cut off like they’re trying to wrap their ethereal heads around what just happened. The ground stops shaking.

Azriel’s eyes widen, hands un-clenching. For a moment he freezes, just as I had when he’d hugged me a minute ago. And then he’s on me, hands tangling in my hair, pushing me back against the wall as his lips slide over mine. His tongue lashes behind my teeth, desperate and hungry. He kisses like a male starved, like he’s trying to get the very air from my lungs. He loops an arm beneath me and lifts, a shadow helping guide my legs around his waist as he kisses me again and again and again.

Now we’re going in the wrong direction again. This is not the place for this!

Mother help me, I’m not sure I have the control to tell him that though. Especially not as he pulls away for the briefest of moments, eyes so dark they’re almost all pupil, nostrils flaring.

“Mine,” he growls, dipping his head to press hot, open mouth kisses along my jaw and neck.

Shit! I knew going into it that our growing proximity, and maybe the fact that we’d both acknowledged the bond last night was going to start causing some problems, but I didn’t think it would be this bad this fast. I didn’t think I’d have such a hard time trying to think rationally about it either.

We have to stop. We have to get back out there before this situation gets worse than it already is. But my body doesn’t seem to know that. Hell, the bond doesn’t seem to know that. It purrs and glows between us, warm and bright in the contact of our bodies.

My fingers tangle in the thick locks of his hair as he nips at the juncture of my neck and shoulder. If I’m lucky, the neckline of my gown might just cover any mark he’s leaving. Maybe.

“Azriel,” my body arches into every kiss. My skin is on fire. I need more. I need him everywhere. I don’t know if his name on my lips is an admonition or plea.

His hips rock unconsciously against mine, searching for friction, and holy gods is he hard! My mouth falls open at the contact, even with the layers between us, he’s bigger than I imagined he would be.

Azriel’s lips trace back up my neck. “My mate,” he murmurs into my skin. I’m losing him to the bond, to his instincts, the primal aspect the nymphs warned me about taking over. I want it to. I want to know what would happen if the immaculate control he’s held since I met him were to slip, but I can’t. Not here. The door feels like it’s suddenly made of paper, as if anyone could walk by and see us through it.

No one will be as forgiving as Eris.

The thought is sobering, like a bucket of ice water in my veins. We can’t do this here.

“Azriel,” I start and he groans into my neck, hips rocking into me once more as if I’d said something dirty and not simply his name. The sound makes heat shoot right down to my core and I clench my eyes tight to try and ground myself. One of us has to be in control here. I don’t know for the life of me how that ended up being me.

“We have to stop.”

His lips find mine again, desperate and needy and he moans into my mouth like this is the best thing he’s ever had. “Don’t,” he begs. “Don’t offer to marry him.”

I glide my fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, kissing my chin, the corners of my mouth, everywhere he can reach like he just can’t stop himself. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. I should have been listening for the door. I shouldn’t have gotten us caught.”

The words fall like he can’t stop them. “I’ll find a way to get around it. I’ll deal with him. Let me deal with him. Don’t…” he shakes his head, goes in for another desperate kiss. “Please. You can’t do this.”

I cup his cheek in my hand and he tilts his head to kiss my palm. “Eris is a snake-” his gaze darkens when I say his name, shadows hissing angrily. “But for now, let’s not make an enemy of him.”

His teeth flash angrily, a growl rumbling up his chest. Heat flares between my legs at his outright possessiveness. Still, I force myself to unwind my legs from around his waist and he, begrudgingly, sets my feet back on the floor. The ache between my legs is uncomfortable. The bond feels like it whines at the loss of contact.

“No decisions have been made,” I promise. “Besides, hearing me suggest it might turn my Father away from the idea entirely. At least, to that end, I can’t say I didn’t try.”

Azriel’s hands leave my hips to fix my rumbled skirts in an attempt to collect himself. He looks a mess! Hair disheveled, lips kiss swollen, eyes dark. I doubt I look any better. “Nothing is happening today.”

“I won’t let anybody take you from me,” he vows.

My heart clenches in my chest and I can’t stop myself from placing one last, gentle kiss on his lips. He chases after me once more like we weren’t just aggressively making out. We’ll have time for more later, when it’s safe. When nobody can take him from me.

I grip his scarred hand tight and place it on my chest, over my heart, in promise. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to make sure no one takes you from me either.”

I mean it. No matter what it costs, no matter what deals I have to make, this male is mine. No one in this damn Empire is going to take that away from me.

---------------

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soulessjourney · 8 months ago

Text

Shattered Bonds

A/N: I'm back after a very much long needed break! Between starting a new job and graduating, things have been super hectic. So, why not come back with an angsty fanfic with Azriel? I also may or may not be working on the long-awaited part 2 of 'Exile'.

Paring: Azriel x fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: After being injured in battle, Azriel is consumed by guilt. But when you finally wake, you're confronted with the harsh reality that perhaps you were always replaceable.

Warnings: Violence, Language, hurt no comfort, Azriel lowkey is a dick, Injured Reader, Angst, Duel(ish) POV, Mentions of pregnancy

Death and smoke fill your lungs. A sticky substance clings to your skin, though at this point, you're unsure if it’s yours or someone else’s. Metal clashes against metal, and your hands sting from both the vibration and the rawness caused by gripping the sword's hilt. You pivot on your foot, turning quickly to keep up with your opponent, your blades moving at lightning speed. Then, you feel a foot slam into your stomach, sending you flying backward across the rough brick ground. The surface tears into your skin like tiny knives, shredding your clothes in the process.

You scramble to your feet, your eyes darting around for your attacker. Instead, they land on a blue glow and dark hair. Azriel. But before you can process this, a sharp pain stabs your side. Gasping, you turn and plunge your sword into your attacker, your eyes blazing with fury. You lock onto the wide eyes of your victim just as another sharp pain strikes your stomach. Looking down, you see something silver protruding from your abdomen.

Green wisps shoot out from you, your lip curling as blood dribbles from the corner of your mouth. You drive the sword deeper into him as he begins to gag, foam forming at the edges of his mouth. You watch as he collapses to the ground, clawing at his neck before eventually falling still. Staggering back, you wince at the ever-growing burn in your abdomen, the green wisps swirling as if seeking something.

You fall back against the crumbling building behind you, sliding down the wall as you tilt your head back, feeling the weight of your exhaustion. Your vision blurs, your mind hazy, as you clutch your stomach, finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. A red glow catches your attention, and someone sprints toward you, dropping to their knees, unsure hands hovering over your wound.

“Cassian?” Your voice is frail, barely a whisper. If your mother could hear you now, she’d be laughing in pure disappointment.

Cassian smiles down at you and gently brushes the hair from your face. “Hey there, Bug. Hang on for me, alright? Azriel is coming.” You smile at the nickname he gave you when you were younger, back when you had an obsession with ladybugs.

Nodding, you close your eyes and lean into him. “It hurts, Cass,” you mumble, wincing as you shift, trying to find some comfort.

“I know, I know. But you did such a good job,” he whispers, combing your hair back before pressing his hands firmly against your wound to stem the bleeding.

The world around you seems to darken, and you glance up to meet the eyes of your mate. Smiling weakly, you reach out to him. “Hey, Az,” you whisper as your eyes flutter closed. His horrified expression tells you everything—the wound isn’t something that can be easily fixed. In other words, it’s a "you might die" kind of wound. Joy.

Azriel looked pale, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes widened. He gently pulls you toward him, holding you close as his thumb strokes softly across your cheek. His gaze darts around frantically before locking onto Cassian.

“We need to get her back. She’s not going to survive. Let Rhys and the others know,” he says, urgency clear in his voice.

Leaning into him, you feel the comforting embrace of his shadows surrounding you. Your eyes grow heavy, and before long, sleep overtakes you.

Azriel paced around the room as you lay motionless in the bed. Every glance at you gnawed at his heart, guilt consuming him. His shadows hadn't left your side, hovering as if trying to heal you somehow. His pacing came to an abrupt stop when his brothers and Madja entered the room. Azriel didn’t miss the more somber expressions they wore, and even Madja's eyes seemed duller than before.

He turned to them, desperation shining in his gaze. “Well? What did Madja say?” he asked, his voice tight with anxiety. Cassian and Rhysand exchanged a look, as if communicating silently. Cassian nodded, then pursed his lips before facing Azriel.

“Well, there’s a chance Y/N could make it,” Cassian said gently.

Azriel felt as though his ears were ringing. A chance. Just a chance that you might wake up and survive. It wasn't a guarantee, only a possibility. His frustration boiled over. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Can’t we do something to wake her? If not, why did we even bring her back?” he spat, his shadows retracting toward him, draping over his shoulders like a dark cape.

Madja shook her head as she finished changing the dressing on your wounds. “We’ve done all we can, boy. It's her fight now. I suggest you stay here—if she wakes, the first thing she’ll want is her mate,” Madja said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “You need to be there for her, as she has been for you countless times.”

With that, she nodded to the brothers and quietly left the room, the door clicking softly behind her.

Azriel clenched and unclenched his fists, glaring at the ground. Cassian, already knowing what his brother was about to say, gently gripped his shoulder. “It’s not—”

“But it is my fault," Azriel snapped. "She wanted to stay behind and protect Feyre and the others, and I convinced her to come because I couldn’t bear to be away from her for so long. She was unsure of her skills, and I talked her into it. I’m to blame for all of this. I almost got my mate killed.” He spun, his gaze shifting between his brothers and you.

Rhysand sighed, pushing off the wall he had been leaning against. “Az, Cassian’s right. You can’t blame yourself for this. Y/N was already set on coming. She talked to me about it—she was worried about you and didn’t want to leave you stranded in battle while she stayed behind.”

Azriel let out a low growl, his siphons flashing, causing Cassian to tense. “Either way, I couldn’t protect her. And now look at her—she’s fighting for her life, and I don’t know if she’ll ever wake up.” He stepped closer to you, sinking into the chair beside your bed and gently taking your hand. “Just give me some time alone. I need to think while still being here for her,” he whispered, his eyes fixed on your chest, searching for any sign of your shallow breathing.

Cassian opened his mouth to respond, but Rhysand placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Silently, Cassian closed his mouth, turned on his heel, and walked out of the room, Rhysand following close behind. The door clicked shut, leaving Azriel alone in the deafening silence.

Azriel let his eyes trace over your face, as if committing every feature, every imperfection to memory. Gently, he ran his fingers through your hair and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve stayed by your side, like you asked. I shouldn’t have fought with you about it. You needed me, and I turned my back on you, and this is the result.”

He felt like a danger to you. Even if you survived, he believed he would only continue to put you in harm's way. You could never have a peaceful life with him. All he wanted was for you to be safe and happy, but he’d failed when it mattered most. You were his entire universe, and yet he couldn’t protect you. He had convinced himself that by staying by his side, you would never be safe—that he didn’t deserve you, not if it meant you ended up like this.

The door creaked open, and Elain poked her head in, glancing around. Stepping in, she cleared her throat softly. “Oh, Azriel, I didn’t realize you’d be here. I thought you were still with Madja and the others,” she said gently. Noticing his gaze on the moon lilies, she smiled and approached the table next to your bed. “Moon lilies. They were her favorite. For a while, I thought she was going to take over the whole garden with them. Luckily, I talked her into taking over the area by the pond. It’s beautiful with the flowers there,” Elain said, smiling down at you.

Azriel looked up at Elain, his expression unreadable. Letting go of your hand, he stood and cleared his throat. “Speaking of the flowers, I saw you loading the cart earlier. I assume you’re making rounds around Velaris to hand them out. Would you like some help?” he asked, his voice even.

Their eyes met, and Elain studied him for a moment, as if searching for the intent behind his offer. After a brief hesitation, she nodded and motioned toward the door.

You pace around the room, your leathers hugging you tightly. Nesta had spent hours wrestling with your hair, her shaky hands finally managing to braid it back. She’d have a fit if she saw the strands that had already fallen loose. Chewing on your nail, your gaze snaps to Azriel, who watches you from the bed. “I don’t know about this, Az. We still don’t know what I’m capable of. What if I hurt the wrong person?” you ask, your pacing quickening slightly.

Azriel huffs as he continues sharpening Truth-Teller. “Stop worrying so much. It’s war, Y/N. Accidents are going to happen. You can’t always prevent them. One day, you’ll have to face the reality of what you can do and accept it. I can’t always be there to shield you from the harsh truths.” His tone is sharp, and it brings you to an abrupt halt.

“I’m not asking you to shield me, Azriel. I’m asking you to be there if I lose control,” you push back, crossing your arms over your chest. Azriel tenses at the use of his full name.

Setting the dagger in his lap, he turns to face you. “And I can’t do that. My place is by Rhysand’s side, and you know that. I can’t abandon him just to keep you safe all the time. This is your chance to learn how to handle things on your own for once.”

A dry laugh escapes you, and you throw your hands up in frustration. “I never asked you to abandon him, Azriel! You were the one who insisted I come with you—especially when we don’t know what I’m capable of or that I can’t control these abilities yet. So, I’m sorry if I’m a little scared,” you say, your voice catching.

Azriel scoffs as he stands, gathering his things. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Y/N. And if not, just don’t die. We don’t need more problems weighing down the court.” His words hit you like a blow, leaving you speechless, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Taking your silence as an answer, Azriel turns his back and walks out of the room, leaving you standing there, staring at the door.

Your eyes snap open as a rush of air fills your lungs. Choking, you cough violently, feeling a hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles. Your body tenses at the unfamiliar touch, and you instinctively jerk back, putting distance between yourself and the unknown figure.

“Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s okay,” a familiar voice reassures. As your vision clears, you find yourself face to face with Cassian, his frown deepening at your reaction.

Relaxing slightly, you offer him a small smile and shift back into your original position. “Where’s Azriel?” you ask, noticing something flicker in his eyes, though you can’t quite identify the emotion. Maybe you weren’t fully awake enough to process it. Glancing around the room, you spot a few vases of dead flowers and a subtle change in the decor. Confusion clouds your face. “Cassian, how long have I been asleep?”

Cassian clears his throat, looking away as he gathers his thoughts. “It’s been about ten months,” he finally says.

It feels like a jolt of electricity surges through you. Ignoring his protests, you slide out of bed and limp toward the window. “Ten months? How—what—there’s no way,” you mutter, staring at your reflection in the glass. You turn your head from side to side, inspecting your appearance. Your face had slimmed significantly, and your eyes were slightly sunken. You still looked like yourself, but there was something off, something different. “Cassian, where is Azriel? Is he on a mission?”

Cassian sighs, running a hand over his face as he averts his gaze once again. “It’s better if I show you rather than tell you,” he mutters, glaring toward the door. “Get cleaned up, and once you’re ready, we’ll head downstairs,” he says, moving to sit on one of the couches. “I’ll wait here. Take your time.”

Nodding slowly, you turn toward the bathroom and walk in to bathe. You were somewhat clean, but it was clear they had only managed to wash the areas they could reach with a small towel. At least they had taken care of you, in some way. Stepping into the bath, you sink into the water, staring blankly at the wall. Ten months. You had been in that state for ten months, leaving your family to wait and worry.

Your thoughts drift to Azriel. Why hadn’t he been there when you woke? Why did the other end of the bond feel so empty and cold?

Sucking in a deep breath, you tug on the bond, holding it tight as you wait for a response. But when none comes, your heart clenches. Panic sets in as you hurriedly finish bathing and dressing. Throwing the door open, you face Cassian. “Has something happened to Azriel? Is he alright?”

Cassian lets out a dry snort and stands. “Yeah, something happened,” he mutters, offering you his arm. Taking it, you shoot him a confused look as the two of you walk together. “Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough.”

As you and Cassian descend the stairs, the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and silverware fill the air. A soft smile tugs at your lips as you step into the room. Mor is the first to notice you, her eyes brimming with tears as she suddenly stands and rushes toward you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Please don’t tell me this is a dream,” she rasps, clinging to you.

You and Mor had always been like sisters. Growing up surrounded by the boys, her arrival in your life had been a blessing.

“It’s not a dream,” you whisper, hugging her back just as tightly. But after a few moments, you feel Mor tense, as if she suddenly remembered something. She pulls away, giving you a sad smile that only deepens your confusion. As you look around the room, everyone avoids your gaze, though a palpable tension hangs in the air, laced with something like anger.

Your eyes shift between them, trying to understand, until they finally land on Azriel. He sits frozen, fork midair, eyes wide, body rigid. Next to him, Elaine quickly looks away, nervously biting her lip—a habit she had whenever she felt guilty about something.

“Azriel?” you call out, your voice trembling slightly. The sound of his name seems to snap him out of his stupor, and he drops his fork, spilling his drink onto Elaine’s lap.

Elaine stands abruptly, and your eyes widen in shock. Before you, a very pregnant Elaine rises, her hand instinctively resting on her belly. Your gaze travels downward, catching the glint of a ring on her finger. “You and Lucien finally made it official?” you ask, a smile breaking across your face. “I’m so happy for you!” You laugh, but the sound dies quickly when you notice everyone else’s glances shifting toward Azriel.

That’s when you see it—something you had somehow missed before. On his finger, where he once wore the engagement ring meant for you, sits a wedding band, one that matches Elaine’s.

A chill runs down your spine as your eyes snap back to his. The room feels suddenly colder, and you feel the ground give way beneath you.

“No…” you whisper, your vision blurring as the weight of it all crashes down on you.

The ring on your finger suddenly felt like it was searing into your skin, and you blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears from falling. "This is a joke, right? Some sick prank you both decided to pull?" When silence met your words, the rage inside you began to swell, and your breathing quickened. "So you’re telling me that while I was fighting for my life, you were out here screwing Elain, and somewhere along the way, you got married—and the best part? She’s pregnant?"

Something snapped inside you, and from the corner of your eye, you saw green wisps materialize, curling around you like tendrils of raw power.

Rhysand stood abruptly, and Cassian shifted closer to Nesta, instinctively protective. “Y/N, you need to breathe. I understand you're angry, but this isn’t the place to test your abilities after being asleep for ten months,” Rhysand said, trying to calm you.

You shook your head, fists clenched. “You want me to calm down? My supposed mate left me to rot in that room, just so he could chase after Elain. He abandoned me and every promise he made! I didn’t ask to be in that room—I didn’t ask to get hurt. So why should I bow down to your request when the real traitor is right here in front of all of you!”

With a final burst of fury, a smoky green tendril shot out, aimed directly at Azriel and Elain. His shadows barely blocked the blow. Elain screamed, curling in on herself to protect her stomach, while Azriel staggered back, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions surging through the bond. The betrayal, the hurt, the rage—all of it hit him like a wave, causing him to drop to his knees, gasping for breath.

You stepped closer, looming over him, and pulled the ring from your finger, letting it fall to the ground in front of him. Azriel picked it up without hesitation, his eyes wide with guilt.

"Don’t look at me like that, Azriel. It makes you look pathetic," you spat. "You chose this the moment you left me in that room to chase after Elain. After 200 years together, I was never going to compare to her, even as your mate. You’ve made it clear, Azriel—I’m replaceable."

You took a step back, but Azriel’s hand shot out, catching yours in desperation. “Y/N, you don’t understand—you can’t do this. Please don’t leave me,” he pleaded, his voice broken, his face twisted with regret.

Seeing him on his knees, begging—it made you feel sick.

You pulled your hand away, standing tall as the green tendrils swirled and coiled around you, making you seem larger than life. "I can, because you left me to die the moment you chose Elain over me. You made your bed, Azriel—now lie in it. Don’t bother looking for me, because if you do, I’ll do everything in my power to destroy you."

With those final words, you turned and walked out, leaving behind your family, your home, and every happy memory you once held dear. All that was left was anger and a thirst for vengeance.

A/N: I do hope you guys enjoyed! It may not be the best after a long time away, but I figured it was a great way to finally make my comeback after so long!

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thelov3lybookworm · 4 months ago

Text

Journals (part 2)

Part 1

Summary: new realisations and hauntingly beautiful words

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2059

Warnings: heavyyyy angst, mental health issues, depression, feeling unworthy of love, panic attack, self harm (alluded to), self hate. thats all i can think of right now, but let me know if i need to add anything

A/n: based on old poetry by @garden-of-runar 🤭i had reblogged them to my drafts on a side blog that i dont use at all, so i couldnt reblog them on my main, but i have put them in the fic, so ig that works🤷🏻‍♀️ also, if i ever write a part 3 (which i might based on feedback) azzie would be the love interest <3

ALSO MY GIRLIE IS SO TALENTED DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED I LOVE THESE POEMS 🥹

(im also tagging people who asked for a part two hope u dont mind <3)

anyways, enjoyyyy!!

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Lying on the ground, despite how it hurt her joints sometimes, was one of Y/n’s favourite pastimes. Maybe because sometimes she did not have the energy to crawl into her bed, but that was not the point.

They hate you.

The hardness of the wood panels was oddly comforting, the way the grains sometimes raised enough for her to feel them with her fingers, the soft creaking when she stepped on them. It reminded her that she was here, that she was alive. That she was getting what she deserved for being so pathetic.

The soft mattress did not give her the same level of comfort. Sure, it was warm and cozy, but did she deserve it?

No.

You deserve this.

You deserve the worst.

Y/n sniffled, lying on her side as she lifted her hand higher next to her, dragging her nails down the planks, the feeling overwhelming in itself but better than not feeling anything. She watched her fingers jerk with the motion, pale and bloodless.

She could feel her tears collecting in a pool and seeping under her cheek. She glanced at the foot of the bed in front of her.

It looks so majestic from down here.

Do people who are worse off think the same way about me?

I don’t want them to. Because I am not worth being thought of like that.

I am nothing. I am pathetic.

It became harder and harder to take in a breath from her nose, as it continued to grow clogged from all her sobbing.

It was one of her least favourite things about crying.

Pathetic.

Stop it!

You’re pathetic. Crying over nothing.

You don’t deserve anything good.

The thoughts kept echoing in her head, louder and louder. She couldn’t breathe any longer.

And it was not because of anything physical.

Her chest began to constrict, forcing her lungs to let out precious air. She tried to breathe it back in, desperately wishing to cling to any remnants of oxygen like a child clinging to its mothers skirts.

Please. Just one inhale.

Her throat tightened.

Just one.

She gasped, futilely trying to breathe one last time to breathe before she knew she would collapse, faint because of the lack of air in her body. It gave her some reprieve, and her eyes focused back to the bed.

The longer she stared at it, the more drowsy she became. Her eyelids were drooping, and she finally, finally decided that maybe letting herself submit to her body’s needs wouldn’t be too bad, if it meant that the thoughts would stop. Maybe if she gave in to the tiredness in her bones after hours of sobbing, her mind would stop being so cruel.

Maybe it would take pity on her.

Maybe.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"We should go out tomorrow!"

Y/n smiled a little. A rare smile that only recently had begun showing on her face.

It wouldn’t be considered a real smile. But it was still there on her face. The tilt of her lips.

We. Not me. We.

They wanted her to be present too.

Cassian jumped up, looking at Y/n with a grin. "I always wanted to take Y/n out to Rita’s."

Her smile grew.

The other members talked, making plans for tomorrow. Slowly, the conversation spiralled, as it always did between them all.

Azriel leaned close to Y/n, whispering jokes in her ear that made her giggle. Rhysand sat on the same couch as Cassian, fighting like children. Mor sat next to Amren, amusement shining in her eyes as she added fuel to the fire, while Amren looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

They talked well into the night, politics, food, court gossip bleeding into one another as the time trickled by.

But the moment the conversations wandered into their future, Y/n’s smile faded. She wondered, would they want her to stay in their life?

She didn’t have to wonder long, as the words they uttered were enough to give her peace.

They talked of vacations, of parties and new traditions. Of getting married, of being with their partners. Of celebrating lives and years and months, of celebrating ends and new beginnings.

They talked, and included her.

They talked in ‘we’s’. Not in ‘me’s’.

And that was enough for her little heart to be happy.

For it to heal, for the blood to return to her face.

For her to smile, free and unbidden.

But then, time passed. And just like the sand in an hourglass trickles away, so do all good things.

As she watched, the scene changed from only housing six people in the living room, to adding three more members. And slowly, she was pushed out.

And they began talking in ‘me’s’.

Some ‘we’s’, but it never meant Y/n.

No, it meant them. Them and their partners.

It meant Feyre and Rhysand. Their new lives and baby.

It meant Cassian and Nesta. Their new mating bond and blooming love.

It meant Azriel and Elain. Their growing infatuation.

Y/n doubted the infatuation had ended, as Azriel no longer sat next to Elain at dinners. Lucien’s visits to Velaris had increased too.

But everyone’s visits to Y/n and their thoughts about her had decreased. No one seemed to remember her existence.

And she deserved it.

They chatted among themselves, and the armchair she sat on vanished from under her, leaving her standing knee deep in the freezing snow. Watching from the outside as the warm interior that had seemed so welcoming just a moment ago turned into a nightmare.

Her worst nightmare.

It left her whimpering, leaving her to curl on the cold ground.

All alone, just like she deserved.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

It was almost sunset, and finally, Rhysand had built up the determination to read the damned journal.

He walked downstairs, peering into the living room before stepping in front of it.

Mor had departed after Y/n had left, tears in her eyes. Azriel and Cassian had been sitting in the living room for the whole two hours since then, staring into space, looking haunted and horrified at the way they hadn’t realised what was going on with their friend. Amren too, sat in an armchair in the corner, looking as unbothered as ever. But Rhys saw the cracks. The shifting eyes, the too hard hold on the book she held in her lap, the downward tilt of her lips more pronounced.

"I think it’s time we read the journal."

Four sets of eyes shot up to his figure.

"Are you sure, Rhys?" Cassian mumbled, standing up uncertainly.

Rhys nodded. "It is the only option we have."

Azriel sighed, mirroring Cassian’s movements and moving closer to Rhysand.

Feyre perked up. "What is going on Rhys?"

He clenched his jaw, guilt and regret festering in his gut. He had been so busy in his newfound happiness, so wound up in enjoying every moment with his mate that he had forgotten family. He had forgotten her to the extent his mate didn’t even know what the slight tang of copper in the air meant.

"Nothing, Feyre." He mumbled, turning away.

"Elain was asking-"

"Tell her to stop asking, then." Rhysand froze at the coldness in Azriel’s voice, his eyes going wide. Azriel never used that tone of voice with anyone outside of work, let alone Feyre.

Feyre stepped back, her calves hitting the couch as she stared at her friend in shock. "Az?"

Azriel pushed past Rhysand, making his way towards his study where the journal sat, looking as frustrated and unapologetic as ever.

After a shared glance, Rhysand and Cassian followed, Amren hot on their heels.

Azriel was already seated in one of the chairs at Rhysand’s mahogany desk, his eyes fixed on the journal that lay in the middle, his jaw clenched. He seemed to be the most affected, and Rhys only had the faintest idea why.

The four of them sat in waiting until Mor finally arrived, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she sniffled lightly as she came to stand next to Cassian.

"Rhys, do we really have to read it? It will be an invasion of privacy."

Rhys swallowed. Thought it over. "We don’t really have a choice, do we? We need to figure out the root of this. She won’t tell us if we ask, we know that. Plus, she might already be way down the path of another breakdown after what happened today."

"That is why I think that instead of sitting around on our arses," Azriel ground out, "we should go and check up on her."

Rhys raised a brow, though concern festered in his gut. "Azriel, we’ve been through this before. She will feel worse about herself, thinking she inconvenienced us."

A muscle feathered in Azriel’s jaw, but he said nothing.

And so they began reading.

Rhysand opened a random page, his breath catching at the sudden tang of copper, and began reading. As he stared at the words before speaking them aloud, he remembered seeing the exact poem in a book he recommended to Y/n over fifty years ago.

Forgotten.That is my nameThat is the path I walkIt has been so longI don’t remember what it is like to be seenAnd I spill, my tears lining the path to the woods where my body lies,Forgotten.- from GardenofRunar

Instantly, Rhysand’s blood ran cold. He leaned back, exhaling. The pages were decorated in flowers and hearts, tiny little clouds and doodles in the margins so at odds with the thoughts spilled onto them like a hauntingly beautiful scenery.

At this point, Cassian and the others had moved to peer over Rhys’s shoulder. Rhys watched as Cassan reached over to turn the page with a shaky hand, pulling it back almost instantly as if the page had burned him. There, just above the words was a small handful of doodles, and he knew the small figures resembled the inner circle before Rhys had been taken under the mountain.

The poem was more a letter than anything, except it contained so few letters but thy hit everyone with a guilt so hard it was almost like a mountain fell onto them.

So like Y/n, to say so less yet still make an impact.

I didn’t forget about you.Can you say the same for me?Don’t bother.I know the answer.-GardenOfRunar

Under the poem, were a few words.

The poet is so talented. Every poem of them I read, it makes me want to sob.Maybe because I relate to these. Maybe that’s why.

Quiet sniffles came from Mor, but Rhys turned another page. It was the first page where blood began dotting the corners, a few drops on the center of the page veining out towards the edges, as if trying to exit but being unable to.

The almost poeticness of the sight was not lost on them. The blood droplets were almost like Y/n, trying to escape a cruel mind but unable to.

My friends are living lives, and I’m trudging through a million little days,Wasting away.- GardenofRunar

A hand snaked towards the book, slamming it shut. Rhysand jumped, his eyes flying to the owner of the scarred hand that appeared.

"Enough." His voice was still, quiet, but so cold it could freeze even the summer court over. And Rhysand knew. He was blaming himself for not paying attention to Y/n.

Rhys nodded, feeling guiltier by the second.

Everyone went back to their places, sitting in silence. Contemplating.

Wondering how they had become so oblivious to the point that they couldn’t see what was right in front of them the entire time.

The regret, the sadness was heavy in the air. It was getting hard to breathe it in.

Finally, Azriel stood, grabbing the book.

Then he turned, and walked out the door without a word, his wings pulled tight against his back.

And Rhysand wondered again.

Was this just some friendly concern, some self blame, or something else entirely?

Needless to say, suspicion took root. But guilt and hate overwhelmed it once more, and the family was left to sit and roil in it.

To wonder, how could they have been so busy that they ignored such an important part of them?

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

(ps. the first part in the memories/dreams Y/n has is based off this poem

You talk in ‘we’s’ Not ‘me’s’ And it heals my heart, just a little. Puts a smile on my face, just a little. You talk about a future One with me in it And I feel the color Return to my face. Just a little. - Runar

)

@velarisnightsky444 @fasoaurore @anainkandpaper @urfunnyvalentin3 @gabbiskylar01

Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @serenescureforboredom @cassie6392 @harrystylesfan2686

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Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

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alyslittlehaven · 5 months ago

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In What We Keep -

Azriel x DragonBorn!Reader

One fateful night after a mission, the three bat brothers need to seek refuge from the cruel winds past the mountains of Illyria, after a little of debating, Azriel decided to take his brothers to the slice of life he took for himself.

These chapters are short and to the point. (And written horribly.)

(Secret relationship, pregnant!reader, tension, happy loving relationships, mentions of NSFW, short series.)

Chapter One - A Fires Warmth

Chapter Two - A slice of Life

Chapter three - WIP

Chapter four - WIP

—- one shots will come with this series; please do requests! —-

#acotar #azriel x reader #fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses #original character #fiction #azriel x oc #azriel supremacy #cassian acotar #rhysand acotar #pregnancy #pre established relationship #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #fated mates #secret relationship #dragon reader #x reader

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potatoplace · 2 months ago

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Mourning Bell

Poly+ SJM Week 2025: Day 5 | @polysjmweek

Nessian x Reader (Past)

Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist | Event Masterlist

Summary: Today is difficult, to say the least. Nesta and Cassian can't help but think of their love, their third mate, taken from them too soon.

Warnings: reader is deceased and dies in the story, grieving, traumatic pregnancy, plague/pandemic deaths, heavy drinking

Words: ~2.7k

Author's Note: ahhhh I really like this one, I cried while writing it so. Yeah. Hopefully you guys don't cry too much! I hope you guys enjoy this one, I'm having so much fun with this event week! 🫶 read it on AO3!

18+ only pls

🤍🩶💔❤️🤍

Bottles were surrounding them in a half moon, all of your favorites. Currently Nesta was passing a bottle of white wine, your absolute favorite, to Cassian.

Both she and Cassian were staring up, above the mantle of the fireplace. A portrait Feyre had made of you for your fiftieth anniversary hung there, a constant reminder of what they had lost, but more importantly, what they had loved.

Cassian passed the bottle back a moment later, and Nesta took a deep sip, the taste reminding her of the day you had met.

She and Cassian had gone to Rita’s that fateful night, and you had instantly caught her eye, dancing alone in the middle of the crowd. A quick word to Cassian and she was approaching you, him hot on her heels. Nesta had slid her hands onto your hips lightly as you swayed to the music, and you’d spun around, a pleasantly surprised look on your face when you saw her. And when Cassian approached you from behind, his large frame caging you against Nesta’s?

You’d only been more delighted, using the courage of the wine you’d had to kiss Nesta then and there on the floor, mouths locking perfectly together.

As the night wore on, the three of you did more kissing than dancing, taking up residence in a booth with you squished between the two of them.

And as you’d been getting up to leave, Nesta had asked for your name.

Y/N.

The moment Nesta had heard it, knew you, she knew she would never be the same.

Neither she nor Cassian had been to Rita’s since… Tears filled her eyes, and she took another deep sip, the bottle in her hand having changed to your favorite tequila.

Cassian gently rubbed his hand on Nesta’s back, her pain mirrored in his chest, ragged edges of the bond that should be golden and thriving instead slowly shredding their souls apart, slowly tugging at their sanity.

Mother, when the bond had snapped for him? Cassian had nearly gone feral then and there, the way that he wanted to take you and protect you from all harm.

The day after meeting you, he and Nesta had tracked you down in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. Through a little bit of digging (read: he asked Azriel) he had learned that you had a stall during the days, selling jewelry that you crafted yourself.

Nesta had insisted on being the one to ask you to dinner, but as he approached the stall, Nesta paused in her tracks.

“Come on, love, you said you wanted to be the one to ask her,” Cassian whispered in her ear before steering her by her waist to you stall. The pair of them had stopped before you, Nesta’s mouth opening for a moment before closing.

“Good afternoon,” you said calmly, though a blush had dusted your cheeks lightly. “Did the two of you come here for something specific?”

Cassian prodded Nesta in her back, her hands spurring into action and landing on a pair of teardrop earrings made with amethyst and silver. “Yes, I’d like to buy these, please.”

Cassian sighed behind her quietly as you began writing out a receipt, promising to repair the items if they needed it. “We also came here because we wanted to ask you something,” Cassian said when you handed over a lovely box containing the earrings and receipt, pressing it into Nesta’s hands.

You quirked a brow at him. “Oh?”

“Yes, we did, didn’t we Nes?” he asked, poking Nesta once again. When she only bit her lip, he continued, “We wanted to know if you would be available for dinner tonight?”

A beaming smile crossed your face. “I’d love to go to dinner with both of you tonight. Does seven work for you?”

Nesta let out a relieved sigh. “Yes, seven would be perfect, where should we pick you up?”

You gave them your address, and true to your word, you were waiting for them at seven.

And seeing you there, dressed in a delicate, sage green wrap dress that ended at your knees, the bond snapped. Something about seeing you there, ready and waiting just for them made his soul realize that you were a part of it, and one glance at Nesta told him that she felt the same, the bond singing in their chests.

It had taken longer for you to realize, though Nesta and Cassian hadn’t let the bond be the only reason for them to love you, and you to love them. No, they had cherished every minute they spent with you before the bond had snapped, soaking in the time that you didn’t feel pressured or forced to choose them. They much preferred you choosing them.

Nesta was sure that you would have found each other and fallen in love, regardless of if a bond tied you together or not.

But when you had finally, finally realized that the three of you were made for each other?

It had been on a tough day for you, when everything had seemed to be going wrong. First the handle to your jewelry basket had broken, spilling delicate stones and metalwork over the cobblestones of Velaris. Then, a leg of your stall had collapsed halfway through your day, leaving you to pick up more broken items. But it was only when rain had begun pouring on you as you walked home that your day had felt completely ruined, unsalvageable by anything.

Until you walked into your house, the smell of food cooking and the sound of the two people you loved most, arguing in your kitchen. You’d barely taken the time to shed your soaked outer layers before you were barreling into the kitchen, throwing yourself into the arms of Nesta and Cassian.

They had squeezed you tightly between them without a thought, waiting to loosen their hold until you pushed back, looking up at them through tear soaked lashes.

Right then. The moment that your eyes met theirs, the bond had snapped into place in your chest, physically pulling you towards them for a moment.

Tears of joy had fallen freely then, the three of you embracing until the smell of something burning forced you to part.

Your mating ceremony had been planned for a few months later, Cassian having a clear goal in mind: building the three of you a home with his bare hands.

Of course, once the walls were up, you and Nesta had helped him decorate, tiny touches that reminded the two of them of you every day. Like the tiles in the kitchen - white with three tiny, pink hearts at the center, a choice that Cassian and Nesta had both been against until you had explained why you liked it.

“The hearts remind me that the two of you are always with me, and I’ll always be with you, even if we aren’t always able to eat our meals together.”

The pure love in your thought process had made them fall in love with the tile, as out of place as it may seem to most of their guests.

Another detail you’d insisted upon was the fireplace they were sat in front of now, propped against the couch the three of you had picked out together. Nesta had wanted one as well, but was willing to forgo it for Cassian, who declared that he did not want a fireplace.

But you had fed him ideas of cuddling in front of a fire on cold winter days, the three of you piled under blankets together. Or better yet, the three of you making love together on the wooden floors, a cozy rug spread beneath you as you all pleasured each other.

And he was very glad that he had caved, both situations occurring nearly every winter night that the three of you were home together.

Cassian sighed, grateful that Nesta had passed the bottle back to him, a mouthful burning its way down his throat in the next moment.

The moment he had finished the house and a sufficient amount of furniture was moved in, the three of you planned your mating ceremony.

It had been a simple affair, Nesta’s priestess and Valkyrie friend, Gwyn, presiding over the ceremony. You had crafted the rings yourself, three matching bands with three tiny inlaid gems: a ruby for Cassian, a grey diamond for Nesta, and a white diamond for you.

And, of course, the three of you had stayed inside for a whole ten days, wrapped in each other and savoring the mating frenzy.

Following that had been a century of bliss, one hundred years with the third piece of their soul.

Nesta smiled, a bittersweet thing as she though of their hundredth anniversary, how you had so proudly announced over a dinner the three of you had cooked together that you were pregnant.

Cassian had spun you around quickly before setting you down, kneeling in front of you and listening to your stomach to make sure he hadn’t hurt the baby. You and Nesta had exchanged a humorous look before she descended upon you from behind, wrapping her arms around you to rest her hands on your still flat stomach. Soft kiss had been peppered all over your skin that night, and from then on you slept between the two of them, Cassian’s wing wrapped over the three of you.

You had been positively radiant when carrying the baby, something that Cassian and Nesta had counted themselves blessed to see as your stomach grew rounded. Every day they looked forward to satisfying whichever cravings you were having and helping keep you off your feet, even if you protested.

They had loved taking care of you.

That had included bringing new gems to you, for the jewelry collection you had begun creating for your child the moment you knew of them. Every day, you made at least two new pieces, one for the baby and their possible future partner, and one for Nesta or Cassian.

The bottles had been put to the side for now, Nesta turning her face from your portrait and to Cassian’s shoulder, tears streaking down her face. Cassian loosed a heavy sigh, bringing his arms up to cradle her closer, as he’d done so many times with you.

It was still hard, thinking about what the birth had done to you. The wings had hurt you badly, tearing you from the inside out as you pushed her out, a darling baby girl coming to life, tiny wings pressed to her shoulders.

Adrina, the three of you had decided.

Madja had done everything she could to heal you entirely, but there had been an extensive amount of damage. You’d required daily healing potions for two months to regain a semblance of your past strength, finally able to carry Adrina on the walks you and Nesta had begun taking around noon.

It was slow going, but you had been recovering.

You had been recovering, Cassian thought to himself, tears pouring from his eyes. You had been recovering.

But a plague had swept through the Night Court, and Velaris had been no exception. By the time news had spread of the danger of it, how it was taking out the young, old, and sick, you had already been exposed.

You were bedridden for weeks, unable to hold, or even see your child without Feyre creating a barrier of wind, protecting her from the illness hanging in the air around you.

That had been the worst part, for Nesta. For Cassian too, she knew.

Hearing you cry out for Rina, desperately wanting to hold her, to see her, every single day that you were sick.

But your cries had grown weaker even as Madja and Feyre tended to you, your body slowly giving out as the illness clung to you, burrowed its way deep inside of you.

Nothing had helped, only prolonged the inevitable. So when your breathing grew ragged, Nesta had begged for Feyre to find a solution, to let you be able to hold Rina one last time, to let her daughter feel her mother once more.

A tiny wind barrier, just enough to cover Adrina’s mouth, was put in place, and she was carefully lowered into your waiting arms, your eyes sparkling brightly as they connected with hers.

Nesta had sobbed as you held Rina tightly, quiet coos leaving your lips as you peppered kisses over her face, her tiny cheeks, your hands stroking over her pretty curls, growing in in the color she had inherited from you.

Cassian had caught Adrina when your arms faltered, holding her close so you could kiss her, one last time. He had passed her off to Feyre, preferring instead to climb into your sickbed, Nesta following suit on the other side.

Both of them had peppered you with kisses, just like you had done with Rina. The soft press of lips, all over your face, neck, hands arms as they listened to your breathing grow more ragged, the effort you were expending growing greater with each one that went in, went out.

Somehow, Cassian had rattled off some of his favorite memories he had with you, even as tears fell down his cheeks constantly. Nesta tried, only managing to get out half-formed thoughts before she broke down again, but you nodded, having known exactly what your mate was talking about.

You’d always understood her, even when she couldn’t get the words out.

Nesta was sobbing into Cassian’s chest now, thinking of how your breathing had slowed before stopping altogether, the golden thread that tethered the two of you together shattering into tiny, jagged fragments that stabbed into her chest, the loss of you so sudden and painful that an animalistic cry had left her, her arms clutching at you, trying to bring you back.

Cassian had wept silently, cradling your body between his and Nesta’s chest as his tears poured into your hair, his lips whispering incoherent words to the top of your head. He felt destroyed, the lack of you in his chest unbearable.

Eventually, Rhys and Feyre had come to pull them from you, your body having long since cooled. Your body was prepared in the Temple of Night, but Cassian and Nesta had buried you on their own, just the two of them to witness your permanent interment, to weep and mourn with the only one who would understand their pain.

Each other.

You were buried at your favorite place near Velaris, underneath the big maple tree by the cliffs overlooking the city, a headstone marking where you were.

Earlier today they had taken you favorite foods, from breakfast foods to sandwiches to pastas to desserts, they had brought it all. Cassian had carried Nesta and the large basket, packed to the brim with their offerings and a picnic blanket, while Adrina flew beside him, having just begun to grow confident in her flying abilities.

It had been a lovely day, the sun shining brightly overhead as the three of them had lounged on the blanket, taking at least one bite of every dish they had brought.

Nesta knew that Adrina didn’t fully understand what this day meant to her parents, yet, but they made sure to tell her all about her amazing mother, and how much she loved her.

Afterwards, they had taken Adrina to her second ever sleepover. Seeing as she was ten now, Nesta and Cassian had agreed that as long as they knew the parents, Rina could spend the night at a friend’s house.

Ten years. Nesta’s heart shuddered at the thought, that you had been go so long already. It had felt like just yesterday, you had given birth to a healthy baby girl, already on the road to recovery.

The jagged, bleeding edges of the bond felt just as fresh as the day she had felt you stop breathing in her hold, and she could hardly breathe, it hurt so much.

Cassian was the same, both of them holding matching, bleeding souls within their chests.

So they drank. They drank in hopes that it would take away their pain, at the very least leaving them numb to what this day means. Perhaps even let them forget, if only for the night.

Ten years, and their only wish was to see you again.

🤍🩶💔❤️🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare @wrenisrad @icey--stars

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violetscar656 · 25 days ago

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"New Beginning" - Aftermath Part 5 (Last part)

Summary: Y/N is sister to Rhys and Cassian, but what is she to Azriel?

Warnings: 18+ Fluff with smut (somewhere between loving and fucking),

Authors Note: Last part, finally here, and it's like a dual POV. And I have officially realised that writing smut is a challenge. Comments are open to any suggestions, ENJOY!

Y/N POV

“I don’t know about this one” I said, looking at my reflection wearing a one-shoulder maroon A-line dress. The dress was pretty, but not what I wanted

A sigh reached me “This is the 6th dress you have tried” Mor said, sitting on one of the chairs in the trial room of the shop. I rolled my eyes

After that kiss, I didn’t trust myself staying in the same house as Azriel. I knew sooner than later I’d somehow end up in his bed. So, I went to The Town House, it’s not like I didn’t try to make other excuses for why I wanted to stay there, but Mor and Feyre cornered me, and well, the truth came out

“I knew it” Feyre screamed “You two are thing now, right?” I just shrugged and looked at Mor

She smiled at me, shaking her head, her eyes were apologetic, though, for all those years when she strung Azriel along. I just hugged her, letting her know what happened, happened

Somehow, telling them, and whatever happened in these past couple of weeks, made me feel freer

“Do you even know where he is taking you?” Ferye asked, handing me an emerald green dress

“He just told me to be ready by 8, I don’t have a clue where we’ll be going” I bit my lip,

The dress was beautiful, equal parts of elegant and sexy, something that said You better fuck me tonight. Well, I didn’t tell the other thing to the girls, it somehow seemed wrong to. Seeing the sweetheart neckline of the dress, I knew it’ll show the deeper scar mark. I’m used the mark showing until my collarbone but-

“Okay, go try this one” Mor ordered, I turned towards her, “Whatever your mind is thinking” Mor narrowed her eyes “It won’t matter to him, you and I both know what kind of male Az is”

Mor was the only one who knew about the extent of the scar; she got suspicious after seeing me wearing an outfit completely out of my element to Rita’s. I suck in a breath, Azriel of all the fae in the world will not be horrified from scar marks; mustering up the courage and go try the dress

As I emerge from the curtains wearing the green dress, a gasp rippled out from Feyre, and Mor just looks at me, mouth wide open “WOW” that’s all the high lady said

I stood in front of the mirror, my eyes going to the angry scar; a hand went towards the middle of my chest, even with the Illyrian healing, the scar stayed, an angry shade of pink and brown mixed

“It's funny how you see the scar first” Feyre says, looking at me “But we see how beautiful you look in that dress”

The dress was more than beautiful, the neckline, the slight shimmer on the dress, which made it shine on different angles according to the light, and the way it hugged my curves, but was also flowy.

“I bet by the night he ends ripping it off you” Mor says, grinning

My face went red. It’s not like I didn’t want Azriel; hell, I needed him. But he wanted to take it slow, and understanding that I agreed to it

A sigh left me “I don’t think there is going to be any Ripping tonight” I replied

Mor and Feyre start laughing, I look at them raising my eyebrow “Y/N, you have too much faith in Azriel’s control” Feyre says midst laughing “When it comes to you” she adds, teasing

“Oh shut up”

Arziel POV

I couldn’t wait for tonight, finally sorting my feelings out. The pining after Mor, and then an attachment with Elain; all because my mind couldn’t process the fact that there was a female who was interested in me, even after knowing my darkest sides.

In a way, I was glad that Y/N wasn’t there in the house when I woke up. I didn’t trust myself around her anymore; it fucking took 500 years of self-control to leave her room after that kiss, well I had to pump myself 3 times before I got any hint of sleep.

I kept thinking about how she would feel, tugging on her silky hair, her mouth on my cock, the taste of her pus-

I heard footsteps outside “Who is it?” I said before anybody knocked

Rhys entered grinning, working like an ice bath over my thoughts “Hello brother” he said

“Hey” I replied, sitting on my bed, and staring at my open closet

“I came here to check up on” he said, and I raised up an eyebrow “Well, Feyre, Mor and Y/N are out and” he pauses “I just wanted to make sure you are not a mess”

I chuckle “Well, it’s a date, Rhys” I pause “With my best friend, with everything on the line” The confession left me without me thinking

Rhys looked shocked, then he chuckled, “Brother, I know you two” He gave me a knowing look “It’ll be more than fine” he walked toward the door, he paused “Just don’t wear your leathers” He teased me and shut the door

Y/N POV

I looked beautiful, I had to admit, somehow, I looked feminine, with the makeup and dress. Mor was a magician when it came to my hair. I did tie it up in braid before, first knowing it’ll just get in my way while flying, and second, I didn’t know how to manage it,

“A braid belongs on the training field and not on a date” Mor said, finishing the last section “We should head down, your lover boy should be here soon” I laughed at the lover boy nickname

“Thank you, Mor” I told her, standing up, my hand reaching to the to mark

“You look beautiful, Y/N” Mor reassured

“Thank you”- “You need to teach me how to do hairstyles Mor. These curls look great” I tell her

I reached the end of the stairs and froze, warm honey eyes looking into mine. His eyes travel up and down the length of me

“Hi” Azriel said, taking 2 long strides to reach in front of me

I was at a loss of words, Azriel was wearing a white shirt with dark grey pants. I rarely saw the male in anything but black

He reached out “These are for you” I look at the bouquet of dark purple tulips, and just blinked

“You're not wearing black” My mouth uttered the first thing before thinking; I bit my tongue

He chuckles and gestures to the flowers in his hand “Oh, thank you” I said, our gaze locks again. My breath hitched at the contact of our hands, heat already creeping its way

“You look like a goddess”- “It should be a crime to look this beautiful” Azriel whispered

I couldn’t help but blush “You're one to talk, shadowsinger” I tell him

“I’ll take these” Mor chimed in, taking the bouquet “You two need to leave before a make-out session begins right here”

My face heated, turning crimson

Azriel offered me his hand “Shall we?” I nod

Azriel POV

After dinner, we landed on the hillside top in Velaris, a place I usually visited alone, but I wanted to show her this

“Azriel!” Y/N exclaimed “This place is beautiful” she told me looking at the city lights below us

“When did you find this?” those hazel-green eyes were looking towards mine

I huffed, walking towards her “You’ll be surprised at the places you find flying around the city” I reply, sitting near the edge of the grassy ground

She narrowed her eyes to me “Well thank you for the obvious statement” moving to next to me

My hands moved before she sat, and I placed her on my lap, her cheeks turning pink

“Dove?” I look towards her, voice husky “When did you know?” – “That I was not a friend to you” A question that was burning up inside me

Y/N let out a sigh, looking at the lights “I always knew”- “I tried to see you differently” she shook her head “But I couldn’t, I also couldn’t act on it cause I thought you saw me as a sister” She huffed out a laugh

“I never did” I wrapped my hands around her waist, looking into her eyes “You were always my best friend, never a sister” –“But my mind- it never comprehended that someone could show interest in me”

I reach out to her scar mark, pausing, looking up to her, and Y/N slightly dips her head. My finger traces her mark, and Y/N stiffens; the urge to kill those bastards again consumes me. We sat in silence for a while, looking into each other.

“This is the second place my mind is quite” I confessed

“Second?” Y/N asked

I took a breath, knowing it’ll be now or never “First is always next to you” My eyes graced upon the scar again “I did not know before, but I know now” I look into her eyes again

I took her hand and placed it on my heart, and I did the same with mine. Y/N’s breath hitched

“That I loved you before, I love you now, and I’ll love you for my whole existence and beyond” The confession left me, 2 heartbeats pass by

I saw it then, the golden light, the string that bonded us; my eyes widened and my body froze, then I felt a tug towards her

I choked on my breath “How long have you known?”

“When Rhys walked in with your limp body” She threw grass strands on my face “You luckied out, you felt the snap when your mate is on your lap, not bleeding out” Every vein in my body was on fire

I moved, kissing her, placing a hand on the nape of her neck to get her closer, trying to simmer down this need. Y/N opened herself instantly for me

She shifted in my lap, and her body touched my already hard cock, I growled in the kiss. She started grinding herself, our kiss turning from passionate to devouring. Her need hit me like a drug. I moved away from her mouth, kissing her neck

“Azriel” Y/N moaned, rolling herself on me, and a curse left my mouth

I don't know whether it was the mating bond, just us, or how she moaned my name. A part of me was ready to fuck her right here. Another, had to stop this madness before I cum in my pants without touching her.

“Let’s go from here” Y/N said “Or this place is going to turn into something else” She bared her teeth, her need as potent as mine. I tried to reach towards a sane part of me, winnowed us away

Y/N POV

I was wrapped up around Azriel’s waist, our mouths in an open kiss, teeth clashing, my hands were already unbuttoning his shirt when we landed. My body, working on its own, grinding on his hard length. A thud sound was the only indication of finally being where we are supposed to be

“Dove” He growled, placing me on the edge of the bed

I bite down on my lower lip, and start unzipping my dress. While watching my mate remove his shirt, his eyes nearly black

Azriel pushes me on the bed and pins my hands “So impatient little dove” he says voice full of silk

His eyes roaming over me, wearing a lacy black underwear, his finger flicks my already hard nipples, I moan and arch my back at his touch, Azriel hums his approval “Your body is so responsive to my touch”

That finger travels down the length of my scar, and then he stops “Azriel” I whimper his name, moving my hips

Biting his lip, he rubs my core through the barrier “You are drenched” He growls

I moan his name, tired of this game, wanting, no needing him “Mine” I snarl

A growl sound was the only response before Azriel ripped my underwear and kissed me hard. His mouth travelled down me, placing kisses; he stopped at my breast licking a sucking one and kneading the other. My nails digging on his back, careful of the wings, he nibbled my nipple, and pleasure zigged in me.

“Azriel” I moaned out his name, he pinched my other breast. I could feel my already drenched core getting wetter

I gently tugged on his hair, a slight command, he obliged me, kissing his way down my centre

I moaned at the painfully slow lick down my core, he did it again

“You taste exquisite my love” Azriel’s voice low, I whimpered

He sucked on the bundle of nerves and my back arched more, I was at his mercy. He inserted a finger down me, and I gasped at the sensation, my focus on that single finger

He added a second one, my eyes flew open, looking towards him to find him staring at me, as if waiting for the movement, he curled those digits.

Pleasure gathered down my spine, as his mouth sucked at clit again “Azriel” – “I’m I’m gonna” words fail me as white hot pleasure fills me wave after wave

I come down from my high, panting, my eyes go towards my mates, and he slowly licks does finger clean. Blood pumps in my veins at the sight of him, I get up and tug on his belt, noticing his hardness that’s caged

He lets himself free, my mouth waters at the sight of him, I was gonna devour him. I moved forward “Later” his voice came, barely leashed

He moved us back, and slowly he guided himself in, stretching me to the sweet point of pain and pleasure. He moaned, and the sound that came out of me was not of this world. He filled me so deliciously, letting me adjust to his size

He was inside to the hilt “Are you alright?”

“I’m perfect, Az, now please move”

He started moving at slow pace “You feel heavenly, so tight love” he hissed

“Az, harder” I said between pants

“Are you sure it’s our first time”

“HARDER” I commanded, moving my hips

I wrapped my legs above him for emphasis, and he sped up, setting a punishing pace. I met his each thrust with my own. He shifted, hitting the spot, and my eyes rolled back

“There” I cried out “Just like that”, pleasure gathered again

His pace didn’t falter, hard and brutal. The sound of our moans and slapping of skin on skin filling the room

“Azriel Azriel Azriel” his name was like a prayer on my lips

I felt my walls tightening, but I wasn’t ready to let this end

“Let go dove” Azriel panted his thrust losing their rhythm “Cum on my cock Y/N”

I cried out his name, shattering, compelled by his words

“Y/N” he roared, filling me

He lay on top of me, panting, still seated inside me, the thread between us shimmered. We looked at each other and chuckled, slowly, he pulled out of me

“I’ll be right back” He came back with a towel, and moved my legs apart

I blushed “Az I can do it” and said trying to take the cloth, he held my hand and smiled

“Let me take care of you” He smiled “My mate”

Lying on the bed all cuddled up “I love you” I looked in those hazel eyes

“You are mine and I’m yours, dove” Azriel says, wrapping his arms tighter around me

I bit my lip “I know things are busy for me and you both” I pause “But I, I want to accept the bond Az”

His head jerks up eyes widening, “Not now” you say, tapping his chest

His soft eyes look into mine “Would you like a ceremony?” He asked, I shook my head

“A week alone would be good” I tell him, my face heating up

He furrows his brows “Just a week?” He says teasing

I gape at him, and he smirks

“I bet it’ll be a fun conversation with Rhys” Azriel teases “Brother I need at least a month off to accept my bond” He mocks me

My eyes widen “A month??” Shocked, I look at the male

He bites my lip “With all the things I want to do to you” he traces my scar, and my core heats “A whole lifetime is not enough” his voice was full of shadows

Few Months Later

Slamming a stack full of documents in the living room, I let out a sigh, and turn “That’s it we are moving from here” I tell my brother

“You tell this every time” Cassian just grins “A little scent bothering you, sweets?”- “You should be used to it by now”

The training sessions began in the House of Wind with one additional member in the house, Nesta. I were not sure about the female at first, but as the days went by, she was improving, we bonded over our mutual love for books. But the house smelled of sex, and my brother smelled of her; the thought of that made me want to puke

“Oh c’mon now” – “You and Az were worse” Cassian yelled

Well we have been worse, but we barely got time after we accepted the mating bond. Azriel had left for his spymaster work, and I helped with the females' training lessons. Ruby, Lucy and Sarah joined along with 2 more.

Rhys did offer us to stay at the River House, but with Cassian, Azriel, and Nesta looking for the dead trove, someone had to stay. There was also the fear of losing Rhys and Feyre, in short things we fucked up

“I can’t fucking sit in the library cause of the memory of you two clawing each other there, and don’t get me started with the dining room” I yell back

Cassian starts laughing, I glare at my brother

4 Months Later

I was walking behind Azriel “Okay, okay, but where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise” Azriel said smiling at me

We were near the hillside, of Velaris, Azriel stopped and turned his head to the small house building there,

My eyes widen “Az you didn’t” I gape at my mate “So all the What's your dream house questions you asked”

Azriel grinned “It’ll be ready soon my love” he leaned forward and kissed me gently

“Decorate it as you wish” A tear slips from my eyes

“This is gonna be our home” I say, Azriel hugs me from behind and places one hand on my stomach

“A family home” he whispered

Note: I’M finally done with this series, and I know they being mates is cliché, but I wanted a happy ending. I hope you guys enjoyed it and well I think imma either take a break from writing or just write another drabble. I don’t know, but thank you to everyone.

My Taglist <3: @the-onlyy-angie @lreadsstuff @xadenswhore @willowpains @secretsicanthideanymore @a-chegwidden @tele86 @i-am-infinite

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munsons-hellfire · 1 year ago

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Lost Part 1 | Cassian

SUMMARY: You were the princess of the Spring Court. But you no longer wanted to follow behind your brother. When Feyre decides to leave, she takes you and Lucien. But with the discovery of your mate and a war on its way you start to feel so lost.

PAIRINGS: Cassian x Tamlin!Sister!Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of abuse, mfw, part 1, I might have missed something but I don't think this really has a lot of warning in this part. Enjoy!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So I ended up turning this into a few parts. There are a few points I want to touch and I don't think it would've been a good idea to do one whole part. If you wish to be added to the tag list for this please let me know down in the comments. The sumary will most likely stay the same I'm not sure yet.

WORD COUNT: 2.0K

It felt like forever. The torture you faced under your bother’s ruleing. It wasn’t protection as he liked to call it. It was a prison, Tamlin had taken over after your father had been killed. You hadn’t been able to shed a tear when it happened, you always assumed that you weren’t meant to be in the Spring Court. When Feyre arrived as a human, you knew she was your chance for an escape.

So when she took the opportune moment to leave, you followed right behind her. Currently you didn’t understand how you had found yourself in this situation. You, Feyre, and Lucien had been on the run from the Spring Court. Little cuts littered your chest, arms, neck, and face. It was so cold, you didn’t know if you could hold on any longer. One of Lucien’s brothers was on top of you, holding you against the ice.

He lifts your head up and slams it down into the ice hard. Stars are dancing around your eyes, as you struggle to keep the blade from going into your throat. Your hand was on the blade, blood dripping onto your neck. A whimper escaped your lips as he stared down at you with a malevolent smile.

“You make such pretty sounds, I wonder what else I could get out of you.” He whispered, his tongue licking up the side of your chin all the way to your pointed ear.

You tried to push the male of you but it was no use. He was far stronger than you, and right now you were too weak. You couldn’t access your power considering you were drained. There were plants all around you even in the Winter Court but that was the last thing on your mind. It also didn’t help that you had never learned to fight. Tamlin had thought it was best you learn how to be a housemaid, how to be a mother, how to take care of your future husband.

Whatever the case may be you learned everything except how to fight and how to use your powers in a situation like this, it was biting you in the ass. Where Tamlin could shape-shift, you could manipulate the plants around you. But your brother didn’t know that, you knew better than to tell him your secret. Just before he could do further damage to you another male flew into him knocking him to the ice.

You turned to your side, a wince leaving your lips as you watched that same male throw a punch into his face. He continued to do so, he hadn’t been able to stop until someone had pulled him off Lucien’s brother. He wasn’t dead, you knew that he was knocked out cold. Your breath was shallow, as the male turned towards you red siphons glistening in the darkness of the night. He was leaning over you, hazel eyes searching you.

He gently picked you up, resting your head to his chest while he cradled the rest of your body. You stared up at him, when he looked back down at you, it snapped. Just before you closed your eyes you felt the gold thread tied around your heart. The mating bond had snapped, you were tied to the male that had just saved you. Now that you were safe you could close your eyes and that’s exactly what you did.

☾

Rhysand stood next to his brother as Madja worked on you. Cassian had his arms crossed over his chest, he was leaning against the door. The male was trying his hardest not to hover over Madja while she worked on his mate. But it was excruciating not to be next to you to hold your hand while she healed you.

“Are you positive?” Rhysand asked again, finally looking over at his brother. Feyre was at the end of the hallway, with Azriel as well. Lucien was also there but Cassian didn’t care much for him, his brother was responsible for the injuries to his mate. He wanted to kill him so they were standing guard in front of Lucien.

“Yes. The Princess of the Spring Court is my mate. I know she felt it too.” Cassian explained again, saying the same thing he’d consistently said when they had arrived back home. Cassian paused, staring briefly at his brother. “Do you really think she has powers?”

“Feyre believed it, and I know what I saw when we were under the mountain. Tamlin didn’t see it but Amarantha did. She protected herself in a cocoon of vines. Whatever she can do, she’s more powerful than she believes herself to be.”

Cassian had heard mentions of the story about how you’d protected yourself to avoid the affliction of pain at the wrath of Amarantha. She loved your older brother, but she hated you. So she’d made your torture just as cruel and wicked as Feyre had gone through. She even locked you up with Feyre, keeping you distanced from the only family you’d ever known. Tamlin. Lucien.

Rhys had told Cass that he had done everything in his power to keep you safe. But when that happened, everything changed. He knew eventually you’d be in his court. Tamlin would destroy you, and it looks like he’d already done just that. Finally Rhys looked back at Cassian again.

“We need to keep her safe.”

“She’s my mate, I won’t let her go back to that bastard of a brother. She’s safe here.” Cassian stated calmly. He caught Rhys looking down the hall to Feyre who gave a nod.

“Then you both need to accept the bond officially, Tamlin will demand her back. And if it isn’t accepted we have no choice but to hand her back over.”

“I’ll discuss it with her when she’s awake. Until then I can’t do much.”

Rhys gave a nod of his head as Madja walked up to them. “She is healed, though she might be out for a few days. Everything was drained, powers included. She needs time to rest.” Madja explained.

“Thank you.” Cassian said, stepping past the healer and walking into the room. He grabbed a chair and set it next to your bed. Then he reached for your hand, holding it in his. Cassian would wait days for you to wake up, as long as you came back to him.

☾

You held onto that thread when you thought you might die. Slowly you blinked open your eyes, a groan escaped your lips. You looked around the room noticing that you weren’t in the Spring Court. Then the memories of what had happened came flashing back into your mind. Panic started to rush through your body, however a hand gave you a comforting squeeze. You turned your head to see the male that had saved you holding onto it.

Just like you remembered he had red siphons on his body. Seven of them to be exact. His black hair was shoulder length, some of it was tied back in a small bun. He looked sexy with his hair that way. A smirk covered his lips, he must have seen what you were thinking was plastered on your face. His golden-brown skin made him look just as handsome. You could see some tattoos peaking through his shirt.

It was a gray shirt and was fitted perfectly to his upper body. You wondered what everything looked like underneath his clothes. Your mind started to drift, thinking of what he’d feel like against you, naked. His pulling of the chair brought you out of your thoughts, you decided to pull yourself up slightly so you could lean against the headboard. You felt the golden string that connected you to him. It was such a pain to not be closer to him. You needed him closer.

“Can you hold me?” Your voice was soft as you asked the question. He stared at you, the confusion was there only for a moment before it switched to understanding. You watched as the male stood from the chair, removed his boats and climbed into your bed. He leaned you forward gently, sitting behind you.

When he settled down into the bed, he pulled you towards his chest. You had noticed that somewhere in between him joining you on the bed he'd taken off his shirt so you could feel his warmth. You rested your head back on his chest, and closed your eyes feeling the bond shine brightly at the touch.

“I’m Cassian.” He whispered in your ear after a few moments of silence.

“Y/N.” You paused, pulling his large hand into yours and entangling your fingers together. You didn’t understand how you’d gotten so lucky to be blessed with a mate provided by the Mother. “So you really are my mate?”

You questioned finally. Maybe this was all a dream, and you’d wake back up in the Spring Court. You didn’t want that though, you’d known you had finally gotten away from your brother's temper and you couldn’t go back to it. Things had gotten worse for you when you’d all returned from under the mountain.

“I am.” Cassian’s words were so comforting as he said them.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get a mate. I… Tam said I’d never experience this. That I’d be marrying off to someone who would never be my mate.” You felt your mate tighten his grip around your waist, his jealousy was evident but you didn’t mind it. Oddly enough it felt comforting, you’d been missing something like that for a long time.

Cassian clenched his jaw at the mere mention of what your brother had in store for you when the time was right. He nudged his nose into your hair. “I can assure you mate, that’ll never happen. I will not allow your brother to take you away from me.”

“But Tam, he’ll try to get me back. I am the princess of the Spring Court after all. He’ll try to call a meeting, to call for a battle against this court.” The worry was evident in your voice as you spoke the words that Rhys had mentioned a few days ago.

“If we accept the mating bond, your brother can not do anything about it. We can accept it then see a Priestess.”

You wanted to reject the idea of accepting the bond so quickly, but you knew that was a lie. Cassian was your mate, and you were his. This had to be done, and it had to happen now. A war loomed over your heads because of your brother. He’d chosen the wrong side and you wouldn’t stand by anymore. Not with what you could do.

“Let’s do it.” You spoke finally. “I need a day, and we need somewhere where it can be just the two of us. When we come back we’ll see a Priestess.”

“I have a place in mind for privacy.” Cassian said, a smirk on his lips. “I can give you a day as well. But after that you’re mine forever, princess.” You only gave a nod and closed your eyes leaning further into Cassian’s chest. It wasn’t until you were finally asleep, breathing evenly that Cassian called to Rhys in his mind.

“How is she?” It was the first question he had asked when the conversation started.

“She’s fine.” Cassian paused, he glanced down at his mate. “She wants to accept the bond.”

“Good. That’s excellent news brother. I think we could all use that right now.”

“We’re gonna head to the cabin for a few days, then we’ll see a Priestess when we come back.”

“Sounds like a plan. When you both come back we’ll discuss what to do in case Tamlin does try to do something. I want to help her learn her powers if she’ll let me.”

“I think she’d be more than willing to learn. I think it would be great to start training with her as well even if we don’t get far into it.”

“Good idea, brother. Both of you get some rest. I’ll let Feyre know she’s doing better.”

With those words Cassian felt his High Lord leave his mind. When Cassian looked back down at you he noticed that you were asleep. The fae lights in the room dimmed down allowing only the moonlight into the room. Cassian held onto you tightly as you slept on top of his form. This wasn’t the best of circumstances, how he found you. But he was so glad that he’d found you when you needed him most.

#cassian #cassian x reader #acotars #cassian x you #reader insert #x reader #tamlin #lucien #feyre #rhysand #mates #azriel

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illyrian-dreamer · 1 year ago

Text

Our Girl – Part 9

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader

Summary: You awaken after being rescued by Azriel and Cassian.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: Sliiiiight smut suggestions. Funeral/character death

AN: A few time jumps in this second last part to the series folks, hold on tight!

<<< Part 8

You heard sharp breaths leave their noses as you addressed them, each of them turning rigid.

My mates. They had waited years for those words to fall from your lips so freely.

Cassian groaned as he lifted himself on strong fists, Azriel already shuffling as they flanked you on either side, wings crammed into your bed, careful not to crush you.

You offered one arm to each of them, your palms pressed into their too-big hands. Azriel blinked away the tears that stung at his eyes, raising your grazed knuckles and kissing at the sores and scars - a jarring reminder of what you had awoken from.

Cassian was not one to miss out, and he slipped a muscled arm behind your neck, grasping at Azriel’s shoulder as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

You shuddered a breath, your insides warmed by the affection infiltrating the bond, relishing that feeling of home, of belonging.

“You are both well? Healed?” you rhasped, your voice barely there. Azriel frowned, immediately reaching for a glass of water and bringing it to your lips.

“Yes, sweets, we’re alright,” Cassian used a knuckle to brush away the stray drop of water that rolled down your chin. “How is your pain?”

You meant to answer, but Azriel replaced the glass of water with something cold and metallic. Flicking your eyes from the thermometer now pressed against your tongue, it was instinct to scowl up at the Shadowsinger.

“Really?” you muttered through a full mouth.

Hazel eyes narrowed slightly as he carefully traced that thin red line. “You’re fighting an infection, love.”

A gentle pull on your chin forced your focus back to Cassian, his eyes warmed with humour at the exchange between his mates. You supposed it was nice, to slip into a reaction so natural, something that had been amiss for years.

“Your pain?” he pressed.

You shrugged as Azriel gently pulled the thermometer away, shaking it once, twice. Fatigue was heavy on your bones, and your head was throbbing, likely from that infection they mentioned. But the wound at your heart was a dull ache, and you had healed well all things considered. Pealing back the covers, you lifted your nightgown, eying the scar that now ran beside your left breast.

You were there in an instant, the clang of that awful sword and Beron’s roar in your ears, impending death looming as you remembered the pure dread that consumed you for days.

You stiffened, eyes turning distant as your mouth quivered with an instant need to cry out.

Azriel thumbed your lip, cooing softly. “It’s alright my love, you are safe now. You’re ok.”

You drew a long, shaking breath. There would be along road ahead to recover as Beron’s prisoner, that much was clear.

“Where is he?” you asked with a small voice.

“Imprisoned, just as you asked.” Cassian's reply was soft as he gently played with a lock of your limp hair.

“And Lucien is…?”

Your mates met each other’s eyes, before your hands were back in theirs, held tightly.

“I’m sorry my love,” Azriel whispered. Leaning closer, he nudged the bridge of his nose to your crown, pressing closer with comfort.

You swallowed, nodding as tears rolled down your cheeks. That poor male – loyal and kind and better than most. Your heart ached for Feyre and Tamlin.

“The others?”

“Everyone is safe and well. Beron’s army yielded when he was dragged from the dungeon, and the Illyrians have returned to the camps. Eris is in the process of assuming his role as High Lord – Beron was forced to abdicate by his own council.”

“Tamlin stayed to help mend the damage from the battle. He’s had help from a group of aides and healers,” Cassian added with a smile.

The smile you forced was barely there, only the corners of your lips turning as your eyes still hung heavy. Your friends, the volunteers - of course they had come. And Tamlin, fighting alongside Illyrians? It was an overwhelming thought.

There was so much to do, so much to say. But fatigue weighed heavy on your mind and body alike, even your power was impossible to drag up from within. Grieving, celebrating, helping those to heal – it would all have to wait.

And then there were your mates – confessions and pleas of honesty begging to be unravelled in a mess of emotions you did not yet understand.

Without notice, tears began spilling from your cheeks, rolling down your chin in a the trail down to your chest.

“You found me,” you whispered hoarsely.

Azriel was wiping at your chin, and Cassian’s lips were at your crown as he replied. “And you fought for us.”

“I was so scared,” you whispered again, your voice wobbling with a half-sob.

“So were we,” Azriel added softly.

You blinked between them, a wrangled laugh escaping. It was exhausting, the instant switch between fear, then relief, then grief, then relief again.

“I think I’m going mad,” you admitted, wiping at your face while you relished in the safety of having your mates by your side.

“That’s understandable, love,” Azriel smiled softly, eyeing you closely, reading each micro expression with understanding.

“Besides,” Cassian smirked. “You already were half-mad.”

Another laugh huffed through your chest, heavy and thick with illness. Cassian was grinning, before pecking at your knuckles with affection. The soft thud of Azriel’s heart fastened, and you could sense his joy through the bond as he watched you two.

Lashes fluttered as sleep tugged at you, but you were reluctant to give in. Time was sacred, you knew that now.

Azriel’s eyes caught Cassian’s with a quick nod, and it was the later who stood to fetch a vial, the popping of a cork pricking your ears.

Azriel forced your chin to him. “Something Madja has prepared to help with the fever.” There was that sternness in his eyes, a familiar one that he used when anticipating stubbornness. Given you record in refusing medicine, you couldn't blame him. But you wouldn't fight them today – you couldn't if you wanted to.

The medicine was bitter, but you drank it willingly as Cassian tipped the glass at your lips with gentle hand at the back of your head, Azriel’s watchful eyes tracking each swallow and ensuring the bottle was emptied.

You rolled your eyes at his keen eye, before settling back into your pillows.

“I saw that.”

Eyes falling closed thanks to the quick working effects of the medicine, you couldn’t hide your smirk was you wordlessly muttered ‘overbearing mother hens’ through the bond. You knew it worked from Cassian’s snort from the other side of the room, and Azriel’s glow of pride at your use of the bond, despite the message cast through it.

Callused fingers stroked your hair before your pillows were being moved from under you. You blinked up at Cassian as he towered over, helping you recline further. “Go to sleep sweetheart, we’ll be hear when you wake up.”

It was lulling to hear, and you let your eyes close again, grateful for the comfort of the bed and grateful for your mates – that each of you had made it out alive.

As sleep almost pulled you under, your eyes fluttered open, and you sat up with rational quickness. “Where even are we?”

Your mates chuckled, Azriel pressed you back into the bed as he shook his head. “Still in Autumn love, but you’re safe.”

“That much I know” you muttered drowsily, sarcasm lacing through as you danced with sleep.

“Do you just?”

You yawned, your words slow as you sighed. “I know I’m safe with you.”

You were already asleep before the wave of adoration careening through the bond could reach you.

————

Eris’s voice cut through the oak door, greeting you into the room.

Auburn locks shined in the fire-lit room as Eris stood on a low stool, facing an ornate mirror as tailors worked at his suit. It was a fine thing – orange and yellows embroidered with tasteful gold leafs. One tailor worked on his sleeve, while the other was busy bent at the cuff of his pants.

“You’ll have to excuse me, Y/N. Just some finishing touches before tomorrow’s coronation. Perhaps we might be excused?”

The tailors stepped away then, taking their supplies with them as they bowed to their future High Lord.

Eris stepped down, stopping a few steps shy from you, fiery eyes casting you up and down.

Originally, that kind of look would have beckoned your own power together within, threatening to zap with petty distaste. But without Beron, Eris was revealed as his true self. Cunning, sure, but also generous, caring, and much smarter than he had ever let on.

“You look well,” he offered.

“Because I’m not cloaked like a pumpkin,” you nodded to his flashy suite.

Eris feigned offence with a hand to his chest. “You don't like my coronation suit?”

You snorted, and Eris grinned back. You were toying with each other as you always had, but now without the need for blood.

“It’s lovely, actually. It screams of wealth, but has tasteful detail. Whoever designed it must know you well.”

“If I didn't know any better Y/N, I’d take that as a compliment.”

You pulled your lips in a sideways smile, eyebrows raised. “You did save my life.”

Eris stoped, his smile fading as his eyes blinked down just once. “I also might have damned you.”

You shook your head. “That wasn't your fault.”

A beat of silence.

“Y/N, I’m sorry my fath–"

You shook your head, cutting him off. “Eris, don’t. That is not for you to apologise for.”

Eris’s lips pulled into a thin line, guilt and grief weighing heavy on the male, the bags under his eyes yet deeper than you had ever seen.

Composing himself, he nodded to a settee facing the the sprawling autumn forest, magnificent reds, yellows and greens muted by night.

You moved to join him, eyes dancing at the tree tops. “Tomorrow will be…” you started.

“A big day,” he finished, leaning his elbows on his knees.

Eris wasn’t wrong. Here at the castle would be Lucien’s memorial, followed by Eris’s coronation. And on the other side of the court, Beron’s execution - all carefully arranged on the same day. It was a distraction of Beron’s dark reign, an insult to all that he had tried to conquer, and a honour to Lucien to celebrate life and moving forward. Beron would die alone, and Lucien’s legacy would be celebrated amongst many.

“Will Serafina be there?”

He nodded, rubbing his hands together with tension. “Yes, she couldn't stand the thought of being there when my father…”

Eris trailed off, but you nodded anyway. “I wish I could say the same for Helion. He’s overseeing the…event.” My father’s execution - he couldn't bring himself to say.

You bit your lip, nodded slowly. Azriel and Cassian had asked which events you wished to attend, perhaps all three, or none at all. You felt a strong need to be at the memorial and coronation, but had little interest in seeing Beron die, no matter what he had done to harm you an your mates. The males had agreed to accompany you, but you felt the urge they resisted to witness Beron’s death. It seemed Helion had felt the same, especially with his involvement in seeing securing Beron’s fate. You couldn't blame him, for all the years he had held his mate enslaved to his schemes.

“Helion will miss your ceremony, then?”

Eris lifted tired eyes to you. “I don't think he’ll ever forgive me for the life my mother was forced to live.”

“You were born into this, Eris, your own life was on the line. You were his child.”

“I’ve been fully grown for centuries now, Y/N. If I had been braver, my mother wouldn’t have had to suffer for the centuries she did. And Lucien…,” Eris choked at the name of his brother, shoulders stiffening before jerking with sobs.

You watched with sorrow, moving gently to place a hand at his back, warmth spreading immediately at your palm.

“They despise me, all of them. Helion, Feyre, Tamlin, Rhys, perhaps even my own mother. They see me for the coward I am.”

You cleared your throat, choosing your words carefully. “The beginning of your reign as High Lord will be an trialling time for you, I won’t deny that. But there were so many who could have stopped Beron, and so many that that didn’t. It wasn't your burden to bear alone.”

Eris blinked, a shaken breath escaping him as he gained some control. “I suppose I will always be the High Lord that was too late.”

You swallowed, nodding. “Perhaps. But you will also be the High Lord who makes sure to leave a better legacy, to never leave things too late again.”

Eris ran curious brown eyes down your frame – so unfamiliar with the comfort you had just provided.

“Azriel and Cassian are couldren-blessed to have someone like you.”

You stiffened then. “I don't suppose they have me, Eris.”

Eris blinked, before his faced dropped. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I did not mean to offend.”

You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. “It’s ok, Eris. You are learning.”

He ran bony fingers through his cropped auburn locks. “I only meant to convey that I admire you.”

You shrugged. “I am quite incredible.”

Eris’s laugh was raspy with relief. There was a quiet moment between you, the only sound the crackle of the fireplace.

“Will you be there, tomorrow?” Eris did nothing to hide the hope in his eyes.

You placed a gentle hand over his. “I’ll be one of many. Rhys and Feyre will be there too.”

“They’re coming?”

“I’m not sure people hold as much resentment to you as you do yourself, Eris. I think most just want to look forward, to a better world.”

Eris swallowed then, curbing the lump in his throat that threatened again. “Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate your kindness.”

You rose then, smoothing your skirts. “All the best for tomorrow, Eris. At the very least, you’ll look dashing.”

Eris found his old self then, extending his arms to admire the suite once more. “That I will,” he grinned, before reaching for your hand, and placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Should you feel the need to reject two Illyrians for one handsome High Lord,” he joked with a flash of teeth.

You snatched your hand back, eyes rolling with a smirk. “Don’t ever let Azriel or Cassian hear you joke like that,” you threw over your shoulder, sealing Eris’s chuckle and closing the door behind you.

————

Lucien’s memorial was devastatingly beautiful.

Without a body, there was no coffin, cremation or grave. Instead, a bronzed statue was erected in the gardens of the Autumn castle, and rows of fae from all courts gathered to watch it be raised.

It was Eris who spoke from the podium, Serafina’s weeps heard by all as she clung to Hellion who kept a strong arm around his mate.

“I want to thank you all for coming here today to honour the life of my youngest bother, Lucien. He was taken from us in a selfish and cowardly act by my father, used as a sacrifice to hone evil. A crime that contradicts my brother’s very essence, for with every fibre of his being, Lucien was good.”

“Lucien was kinder than most, a generous, forgiving male who uplifted others and sought good for the world. I regret to have dismissed him for so long, and that I may never tell him just how much I admired his courage. As High Lord of this court, I will ensure that his legacy continues, that he lives forever in bronze in these gardens, but also as a celebrated hero and vital part of the Autumn dynasty.”

“To properly commemorate his life, I invite someone who was a truer brother to Lucien, more than I ever was.”

Eris stepped from the podium, placing a sure hand on Tamlin’s shoulder before moving to the queues.

You could see the tremor in your friends hands as he placed his papers down, fingers gripping to the podium to steady himself. Pressing your lips tightly, you knew the wave of emotion Tamlin would need to push through to address all of these people, and tribute Lucien in honour. Your heart ached for him further.

Feyre’s sniffing pricked your ears from beside you where Rhys held her, and as you dabbed a few of your own stray tears, a wave of reassurance was sent from your mates who sat a few rows back, catching the movement.

“Lucien was more than an honourable male.” Tamlin began, his voice strong, commanding of the crowd. “He understood what it was to be truly loyal, to see the good amongst the bad, to make others feel at home when he didn't have one of his own.”

“He taught me compassion, sensibility, gratitude and love. He was a better leader than I could ever hope to be, without even trying.”

Tears brimmed your eyes, and you felt an overwhelming amount of pride for Tamlin as he cast those sharp green eyes across the crowd.

“He was a loving son and friend,” he said with a nod to Serafina. “And while he endured more hardship than any of us deserve, his wit and humour prevailed.”

A few chuckles from the crowd and murmurs of agreement. A tattooed hand found yours then, and Feyre squeezed you as you smiled at each other through tears.

“Many might not know that Lucien used that wit to free us of Amarantha’s reign. It was his keen eye to observe those around him, that brilliant mind and sincere care for others that lead Feyre to my court, and to eventually break the curse. He helped us every step of the way, risking his life countless times under the mountain, because he understood what was at stake, and what was the greater good.”

Tamlin had paused, taking a shaky breath. “Lucien was the brother I never deserved, and I will never stop loving him.”

Tear stained tracks shone on Tamlin’s cheeks.

“It is our duty to ensure he has not died in vain, to learn from his legacy of acceptance, patience and kindness. If each of us hone just a fraction of the honour that he spread so freely, Prythian will be stronger for it.”

“And when your children ask to hear the heroic tales of friends and foes alike, tell them of Lucien – the male with no home, that lead with his heart instead.”

When Tamlin returned to his seat as Serafina stood to reveal the statue beneath the cloth. Hundreds of fae cried and cheered, and you reached for Tamlin’s hand, holding him tightly with your head on his shoulder, grieving and celebrating with your truest friend.

————

1 week later

“Where have you bought me, my love?”

Azriel emerged from the thick of the Autumn forest, dried leaves crunching beneath his boots.

“A little clearing I discovered on a walk,” you smiled from where you waited patiently, hands behind your back. The picnic was set with bread, cheese and berries, and you offered a glass of wine to your mate as he approached.

He took it with a raised brow, leaning down to kiss your cheek before taking a sip.

“You are well?” he asked, noting the blush in your cheeks, sending relief through the bond that colour had at last returned to your face.

“I am,” you smiled broadly.

Before you could ask how Azriel was, the beat of Cassian’s wings sounded, and leaves danced in a gust of wind as he landed on one strong knee.

“Well isn't this romantic,” he grinned as he stood, stalking over to pick you up, twirling as he squeezed you tight.

While Cassian had business to attend to back in Illyria, both of the males had been keeping their distance while you rested at the Autumn castle. They checked in of course, and Azriel had winnowed back a few times to see you - but they were respectful of your space, waiting for your direction, feeling for your comfort levels along the way.

Cassian approached Azriel then, a strong hand finding his chiselled jaw as he kissed his mate deeply.

Immediately flustered, you busied yourself by pouring Cassian a glass of wine as overwhelming desire and longing for each other coursed through the bond after days spent apart. You forced your eyes elsewhere - you hadn't kissed either of them yet, certainly not like that.

They moved to join you on the blanket you had set, Cassian taking his wine with a thank you and plopping a few berries in the each of your glasses.

“I’ve missed you both,” you said with a shy smile. It was true, having them both here, it eased the strain of your heart that lingered at the distance. It also revealed desires you hadn't known were there. You wanted to bask in their presence, to hold them tight and never let them go. To tear your clothes of and press their naked skin to yours, feel the heat of them warm through you… Gods, this bond!

Azriel and Cassian shared a coy chuckle as they sensed your lust, and a scarred hand found your knee while Cassian lounged casually, wings sprawling.

“We missed you too,” Azriel answered with a boyish smirk, before it turned sincere. “Thank you for bringing us together, my love.”

Cassian was already munching on the bread as he offered you a wedge of cheese, speaking with a full mouth. “What marks the occasion, princess?”

You took the food, chewing thoughtfully before setting your glass down. Hazel eyes tracked your every move, Cassian’s on the clouds as casual hands were bought behind his head.

“Well, I suppose I wanted to discuss us.”

You saw Cassian’s chest holt, before he sat up, waiting for you to continue.

“I’m fully healed now, and I think it’s time I left Autumn.”

Azriel was stiff. “Will you be coming back to Velaris?” he asked with forced softness.

You swallowed once, twice. “No.”

Azriel took a deep breath before nodding slowly, Cassian’s smile fading into something sad, while affection still warmed those brown eyes.

“We understand,” he offered, his large hand covering yours.

“I suppose a better answer is, not yet,” you added, squeezing Cassian’s hand in yours. You felt their lick of excitement through the bond.

“I love you both, I do. But I don't know where I want to live, where I want to call home. All I know is that I want to continue my mission, help provide aide for more courts. Beron’s death has created so many opportunities, the courts have never been so aligned. There is much work to do - and I will dedicate myself to it. This is my purpose.”

Azriel’s smile was genuine under the tears in his eyes. “I am so proud of you.”

You sent a wave of warmth down the bond. “Thank you, Az.”

Cassian was leaning on his knees now, facing the both of you. “Wherever you want to be, Y/N, we’ll be there too.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, no, I won't ask you to leave Velaris, to give up your roles in the Night Court.”

Your mates exchanged a look.

“We would, you know.” Azriel husk was just more than a whisper.

“We’d follow you anywhere,” Cassian added.

You smiled, your eyes cast down as you fiddled with your hands in your lap. With a quick breath, you placed a hand on each of their thighs.

“I don't want that, and neither do you. Please hear me when I say I love you both, and I’m learning to forgive you for what happened with Alvar. But I’m not ready to be so…”

“Mated?”

You smiled turned broken. “Yes, mated.”

Azriel had picked up your hand, toying with it before moving scarred fingers to intertwine with yours. “Wherever you want to be,” he repeated Cassian’s words. “We support you.”

You blinked the tears that threatened then, forcing that pinnacle question past your lips. “Would you wait?” For me, for us - you didn't add.

“Of course,” Cassian said instantly, frowning with slight insult.

“Without a second thought.” Azriel added, his lips now brushing your knuckles.

It was true, honest love that surged through the bond then, from all three sides.

You huffed with relief. “Then I will return to my life in Spring Court.”

“Perhaps we could visit?” Cassian asked.

You didn't need to think on the offer. “I would love that,” you beamed. “And I will travel often enough with my work – and will visit you too.”

Azriel let out a small whine of relief, and Cassian grinned, moving to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest.

“We love you Y/N,” he murmured into your ear, planting a kiss to your neck. “We will make this work.”

You reached towards the Shadowsinger, pulling him towards you, relishing in the comfort of their arms wrapped tight around you. You were safe, they were safe. You were happy, they were happy.

For the first time in years, you felt true happiness in all avenues of life.

Cassian and Azriel were kissing above your head, the sound of their kiss igniting something in your bounds as you were pressed between them. That primal urge to consummate your mating bond churned within you, and you were suddenly flushed with desire, aware of how your own pupils dilated.

Raising to your knees, your hands found a place on both of their chests as they broke away, eyeing you.

You leaned towards Cassian, eyes flicking down to his still-wet lips swollen from Azriel’s kiss. Ever so gently, you lay a peck to his mouth.

Cassian whimpered as you pulled away, his eyes fluttering open and stalking you as you moved to Azriel and did the same.

Wings twitched from behind the Shadowsingers head, and shadows instantly flooded around you.

Pulling away, you couldn't help the toying grin that pulled at your mouth. Azriel's chest heaved, and Cassian’s brows were pulled in desperation.

“Please,” the later begged. “Do that again.”

Your heart lurched, your insides throbbing even more intensely than before. Gods, you wanted them. But you would have to be careful with how you would approach the bond while living on different sides of Prythian.

“I’m conscious,” you breathed, taking a moment to regain composure. “I’m conscious not to enlighten the bond any further.”

Cassian growled, but Azriel threw him a quick glare. “You’re yet to seal the bond on your end.”

“I know,” you breathed, resisting every urge to ask your mates to eat the remaining berries from your bare hands and ride them into the sunset. “But I don't want to make things anymore difficult than they need to be. I have no interest in torturing you any further. Sex might complicate things, it can bind us further, making the distance that much harder to bare.”

Cassian groaned. “Please don't say harder.”

You and Azriel shared a chuckle as he strained in his pants.

“It’s a kind thought, my love. And I think you’re right,” Azriel agreed with a stroke to your face, then a strong hand on Cassian’s shoulder that seemed to say compose yourself.

Cassian cleared his throat, and through gritted teeth said “We can wait.”

A wicked smile reached your eyes. “Are you sure about that?”

Cassian all but tackled you, nipping at your ear with a playful growl. “Don’t tease.”

You laughed freely then, his breath tickling your ear.

Azriel was still stiff where he sat.

“Az,” you asked. “Will you be alright?”

Hazel eyes flicked down you in a way that made you shudder. “I just have on request.”

You smiled. “Yes?”

“Kiss me again.”

You were smiling as you lurched forward, strong arms catching you as you pressed your lips on his.

You spent the rest of the afternoon in that clearing with your mates, kissing them, holding them, discussing the logistics of the next steps of your mateship, and falling back in love with the two males that always had your heart.

————

3 years later

The three years since you had rekindled your relationship with Azriel and Cassian had been the happiest of your life.

Your mates would visit often, sometimes together, sometimes alone. And when your work called you to the Night Court or close by, you visited them in Velaris, spending time with your old family too. You relationships were healing amongst the Inner Circle, and you were glad to feel at home again while still returning to your life in Spring Court.

You had worked furiously hard to bring your aide work across Prythian. Beron’s death saw a shift in response to sharing resources, and your vision of aide without borders gained traction. With hundreds of healers and the likes now working for your charity - your mission was funded and supported by all seven courts.

The little foxes, you now called yourselves, in honour of Lucien Vanserra and his legacy of honour. Each court had specially built ‘dens’, where fae in need could seek help, and where aide was dispatched to support across all courts.

It was incredibly hard work that took the years you gave yourself, with many sleepless nights, and sometimes longer periods spent away from your mates. But it was successful, the cogs of your strategies came to life.

You were overwhelmingly proud, and fulfilled for the first time in your life. Happiness was a plentiful beacon around you, and you felt yourself healing every day.

You spent spare time learning to harness your magic. Seeking experts across the continent, you learned to hone that powerful current, understanding your limits, your emotions, when to yield and when to take. You learnt new ways of using it, lighting fires or fuelling pressing mills, hunting large supplies of fish when food was in need. In those years, you had learned to help others in ways you never new possible. It was as if you were finally coming to life.

Your heart was full – you had taken control of your life once more, working in boundaries that helped you thrive. And it was with that full, healthy heart that you forgave your mates, little by little, day by day.

————

Mor let out a high-pitched squeel, shaking as she read the golden card in her hand, envelope floating to the floor as she bounced from foot to foot.

“What is it?” Feyre asked from her desk, the High Lady buried in paper work.

“They’ve called it!”

“Called what?” Feyre asked with wide eyes, bewildered at Mor’s reaction.

Snatching the card from the giddy blond’s hand, Feyre read the sparkling, cursive writing. Tears instantly brimmed at Feyre’s eyes as she met Mor’s lovesick smile.

Finbark Eversgreen requests the honour of your attendance to celebrate the marriage of Y/N, Cassian and Azriel.

Saturday, 2nd week of the third season.

The ceremony will be held at the Southern Spring Lake at dusk.

“Rhys! Come quick!”

————

AN: Ahhhh I hope you liked this lead up to the finale!! It was a pleasure to write the abundance of healing going around for all these characters!! The next part will focus on the wedding - but I'm always keen to hear what else you guys might want to see too. All in all, I'm actually excited to wrap up Our Girl tbh. It's sitting at 50,000 words so far and has been a really big piece for me! So thanks for joining me along the way. If you want to join the tag list for the finale, or any of my other stuff, drop and comments and let me know which one :) Much love!!! Nic

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small-z24 · 1 year ago

Text

One-Shot: Shadows of Confession

Summary:

What happens when Azriel tells Cassian that Cassian’s little sister Y/N is his mate?

Word Count: 1798

Warnings: None aside from an over protective Cassian

The training grounds of the Night Court were eerily quiet, save for the distant hum of the city below. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the field where Cassian and Azriel stood, sweat gleaming on their brows from an intense sparring session.

Cassian was the first to break the silence, his voice gruff yet concerned. “You’ve been distracted lately, Az. What’s going on?”

Azriel hesitated, his heart pounding. This was the moment he’d been dreading, but he couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. He sheathed his sword and turned to face his brother. “Cassian, we need to talk.”

Cassian’s brow furrowed, sensing the seriousness in Azriel’s tone. “What is it?”

Azriel took a deep breath, his shadows swirling around him nervously. “It’s about your sister. About Y/N.”

Cassian’s eyes darkened, suspicion creeping into his expression. “What about Y/N?”

Azriel met Cassian’s gaze, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “She’s my mate.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, like a storm breaking, Cassian’s face contorted with anger. “What did you just say?”

“Y/N is my mate,” Azriel repeated, trying to remain calm. “I’ve known for a while now, but I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure.”

Cassian’s fists clenched, his wings flaring out behind him. “My sister? You think you can just... claim her?”

“It’s not about claiming,” Azriel said, his own shadows agitated by Cassian’s reaction. “It’s a bond, something neither of us can control.”

Cassian took a step forward, his voice low and dangerous. “You think I’m going to let you, with your shadows and your darkness, anywhere near her? She’s too innocent, too pure for someone like you.”

Azriel’s heart ached at the words, but he held his ground. “I know you want to protect her, Cassian. I do too. I would never hurt her.”

Cassian’s eyes flashed with fury. “You already have! By being who you are, by being in her life, you’re putting her in danger.”

“I love her,” Azriel said quietly, the confession hanging in the air between them. “I love her more than anything. I would die to keep her safe.”

Cassian’s anger seemed to waver, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “Do you think that makes it any easier for me to accept? She’s my little sister, Az. I’ve watched over her all her life. I can’t just... let go.”

Azriel stepped closer, his voice earnest. “I’m not asking you to let go, Cassian. I’m asking you to trust me. To trust that I will do everything in my power to protect her, to make her happy.”

Cassian’s shoulders sagged, the weight of his emotions pulling him down. “She deserves better than this, better than a life filled with shadows.”

Azriel nodded, understanding the depth of Cassian’s concern. “She does. But she’s my light in the darkness, Cassian. She’s the reason I can face my shadows.”

Cassian looked away, struggling with his conflicting emotions. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh. “Does she know?”

Azriel shook his head. “Not yet. I wanted to tell you first. I owe you that much.”

Cassian was silent for a long moment, the tension between them palpable. Then he looked back at Azriel, his expression softening just a fraction. “If you hurt her, Az... if you let her down in any way, I will never forgive you.”

“I won’t,” Azriel vowed, his voice unwavering. “I swear to you, Cassian. I will cherish her, protect her, and love her with everything I have.”

Cassian nodded slowly, the anger in his eyes replaced by a weary acceptance. “You better. For both your sakes.”

Azriel reached out, placing a hand on Cassian’s shoulder. “Thank you. It means more than you know.”

Cassian gripped Azriel’s shoulder in return, his expression still tense but less hostile. “Just... be good to her, Az. She deserves the best.”

“I will,” Azriel promised, feeling a surge of relief and hope. “I promise.”

As they stood there, the last light of day fading into night, Azriel knew that the hardest part was yet to come—telling Y/N the truth. But with Cassian’s reluctant blessing, he felt ready to face whatever came next, determined to build a future with the woman who had brought light into his shadows.

That evening, Azriel found himself standing outside Rhysand’s study, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He needed advice on how to approach Y/N, and there was no one better to turn to than Rhysand.

He knocked softly, and a moment later, Rhysand’s voice called out, “Come in.”

Azriel entered the room, closing the door behind him. Rhysand looked up from his desk, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Azriel. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Azriel took a seat, his shadows restless around him. “I need your advice, Rhys.”

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his expression serious. “What’s on your mind?”

Azriel took a deep breath. “It’s about Y/N. She’s my mate.”

Rhysand’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Y/N? Cassian’s sister?”

Azriel nodded. “Yes. And I told Cassian today. He... didn’t take it well.”

Rhysand chuckled softly. “I can imagine. Cassian can be a bit overprotective when it comes to his sister.”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “That’s an understatement. But he gave me his reluctant blessing. Now, I need to figure out how to tell Y/N.”

Rhysand’s gaze softened. “You’re worried about how she’ll react?”

Azriel nodded. “Yes. She’s always been a bit wary of me, of my shadows. I’m afraid that the bond won’t snap into place for her, that she’ll always be a little afraid of me.”

Rhysand leaned forward, his eyes filled with empathy. “Azriel, you’ve always been good at reading people. Trust that. You know Y/N better than you think. Just be honest with her. Tell her how you feel, and let her see the real you.”

Azriel’s shadows seemed to calm at Rhysand’s words. “You’re right. I need to trust in the bond, and in her.”

Rhysand smiled. “Exactly. And remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re all here to support you, and Y/N too.”

Azriel stood, feeling a renewed sense of determination. “Thank you, Rhys. I appreciate it.”

Rhysand nodded, his smile widening. “Anytime, Az. Now go, and tell her how you feel.”

The House of Wind was alive with laughter and conversation as the Night Court gathered for dinner. The long table was filled with the Court's closest members, including Rhysand, Feyre, Mor, Amren, Cassian, Azriel, and Y/N. The warmth of camaraderie and the delicious scent of food filled the air, creating a comforting atmosphere.

Azriel, seated next to Y/N, could barely focus on the meal. His mind was preoccupied with the conversation he had with Cassian earlier that day and the advice he received from Rhysand. He glanced at Y/N, who seemed to be enjoying herself, chatting animatedly with Mor.

Cassian, seated across the table, kept a watchful eye on Azriel. His earlier anger simmered beneath the surface, and he struggled to keep his emotions in check. The knowledge that his sister and Azriel were mates weighed heavily on him.

As the meal progressed, Azriel leaned closer to Y/N, his voice low. "Y/N, can we talk after dinner? There’s something important I need to discuss with you."

Y/N turned to him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and something else—something Azriel couldn't quite place. "Of course, Azriel. I’d like that."

Cassian’s sharp eyes caught the intimate exchange, and he felt his control slipping. His protective instincts over Y/N surged, and before he could stop himself, he slammed his fist on the table, causing everyone to jump.

“Enough!” Cassian roared, his voice echoing through the dining hall. “You think you can just whisper sweet nothings to my sister under my nose, Azriel?”

Everyone turned to look at Cassian in shock, their expressions ranging from surprise to confusion.

“What are you talking about, Cassian?” Rhysand asked, his tone calm but curious.

Cassian pointed a shaking finger at Azriel, his eyes blazing with fury. “He’s been keeping a secret from all of us. From Y/N. He’s her mate!”

Gasps filled the room, and all eyes turned to Azriel and Y/N. Azriel stood, his expression a mixture of anger and determination. “Cassian, this isn’t the way—”

Y/N rose to her feet, her face a mask of shock and dismay. “Cassian, stop! This isn’t your decision to make.”

Cassian turned to her, his voice filled with anguish. “You’re my little sister, Y/N. You don’t understand what you’re getting into. Azriel’s shadows—”

Y/N stepped closer to Cassian, her eyes flashing with determination. “I’ve known, Cassian. I’ve known for a while.”

Silence fell over the room as everyone processed Y/N’s words. Azriel looked at her in surprise. “You knew?”

She nodded, her gaze softening as she met his eyes. “Yes, Azriel. I knew. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to scare you off. I know how much your shadows mean to you, and I wanted to give you time.”

Cassian looked between Azriel and Y/N, his anger dissipating into confusion. “You knew?”

Y/N reached out to take Cassian’s hand, her voice gentle. “Yes, and I appreciate your concern. But this is my decision. Azriel is my mate, and I trust him.”

Rhysand cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “Well, this certainly explains a lot. But Cassian, you need to trust your sister. She’s capable of making her own choices.”

Feyre nodded in agreement, her eyes warm with understanding. “And Azriel is one of the most honorable men I know. He would never hurt Y/N.”

Cassian’s shoulders sagged, the weight of his emotions finally catching up to him. “I just want her to be safe.”

Azriel stepped forward, his voice steady and sincere. “I swear to you, Cassian, I will protect her with my life. She is everything to me.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with love for both her brother and Azriel. “And I love him, Cassian. Please, trust us.”

Cassian sighed, finally relenting. “Alright. But if you ever hurt her, Azriel—”

“I won’t,” Azriel promised, his eyes locking with Y/N’s. “I swear.”

As the tension eased, Rhysand raised his glass, a smile playing on his lips. “To new beginnings, and to the bonds that make us stronger.”

Everyone raised their glasses, the mood lightening once more. Y/N took her seat next to Azriel, their hands entwined under the table. They shared a private smile, knowing that despite the challenges ahead, they would face them together.

Cassian watched them, his protective instincts still strong but tempered by the knowledge that his sister was happy. And in the end, that was all that mattered.

#ACOTAR #A Court of Thorns and Roses #ACOTAR fanfiction #Azriel #Azriel x reader #Cassian #Night Court #Velaris #shadowsinger #mates #emotional confessions #family tension #angst #romance #SJM fanfiction #Sarah J Maas #ACOTAR fandom #protective brother #new beginnings

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dee-writes-angst · 1 year ago

Text

SUMMER (Chapter Four)

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY healing is a long journey that can't be summed up in just four simple seasons, but it seems with the help of a certain shadowsinger at your side, you've seemed to do it.

CONTENT WARNINGS mentions of nightmares, apologies, scared reader, comforting Azriel, Cassian POV, and mentions of wingspans ;)

AUTHORS NOTE the finale you've all been waiting for is finally here as promised! Thank you all so much for your support during this series, I am excited to be back and writing for you all again! Love you all and I hope you enjoy! <3

Summer arrives like a promise fulfilled, a canvas awash with vibrant hues of green and gold, as if nature herself has donned her finest attire. The air hums with the gentle whisper of transformation, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the promise of new beginnings on its warm breeze.

As the sun stretches its golden fingers across the land, casting long shadows that dance in its radiant glow, there's a palpable sense of rejuvenation in the air. It's as if each dawn heralds a new chapter, a chance to shed the burdens of the past and embrace the endless possibilities of the present.

In this season of abundance, life bursts forth with an exuberance that is both intoxicating and invigorating. The world awakens from its slumber, blossoming with a riot of colors as flowers unfurl their petals in joyful defiance of the lingering chill of winter. Leaves rustle in the gentle caress of the wind, their verdant whispers carrying tales of resilience and growth.

Amidst this symphony of nature's symphony, there is a sense of newfound strength coursing through every living thing. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the warmth of the sun infuses each day with a sense of possibility, igniting a fire within the soul that refuses to be extinguished.

In the heart of summer, time seems to slow, allowing moments to linger like the last rays of sunlight on a balmy evening. It's a season of exploration and adventure, where every day holds the promise of discovery and every sunset marks the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.

And as the days stretch languidly into twilight, there is a quiet resilience that takes root, a deep-seated belief in the power of new beginnings and the strength that comes from embracing change. For in the heart of summer, beneath the sweltering heat and the endless blue skies, lies the untold promise of tomorrow, waiting to be seized with both hands and forged into something beautiful.

(Mid Summer, Velaris)

The afternoon sun poured into the training ring, casting long shadows of the figures sparring lightly within it. Cassian was across from me, a patient yet mischievous grin on his face, as he handed me a training sword. “Ready to get your ass kicked, or are you going to make me work for it today?”

I smirked, feeling the flutter of my old spirit stirring within. “Dream on, Cassian.”

The clash of our swords sang through the air, a melody of metal that resonated with the pounding of my heart. Each strike, each parry, felt like shedding layers of fear that had cocooned me since losing my wings.

“Focus,” Cassian said, his voice a mix of sternness and encouragement. “Remember, it’s not just about strength. It’s about knowing your opponent.”

I nodded, gripping my own wooden sword a little tighter. As I lunged forward, Cassian parried easily, countering with a swift movement that I barely blocked in time. We moved in a rhythm, the clack of our swords punctuating each maneuver. My muscles remembered the dance, even if they ached from disuse. Cassian’s style was a flurry of motion, designed to overwhelm, but today he tempered his usual ferocity, giving me room to find my footing again. The physical exertion was grounding, pulling me further away from my mental ghosts.

Laughter and shouts from Mor, watching from the sidelines, filled the arena, her cheers a buoyant soundtrack to our dance of blades and as we paused for a break, Mor jogged over with a waterskin and a smirk. She threw an arm around my shoulders, squeezing tightly. “Look at you! You’re almost back to your old self,” she beamed, her pride evident.

The warmth from her compliment soaked through me, loosening some of the tightness still lingering in my chest. “Feels good to move like that again,” I admitted, allowing the truth of my words to wash over me. It did feel good—like claiming back pieces of my soul, piece by piece.

“You two look like you’re having fun,” she smiled, squeezing me close again as she handed me the waterskin. After I took a long drink, she shot me a sly glance. “Speaking of fun, have you noticed how Azriel can't seem to stay away from your side?”

Mor’s eyebrows wiggled as I coughed on the water, wiping my mouth as I tried to compose myself. “He’s just being supportive,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat up.

Cassian chuckled, leaning on his sword. “Oh, he’s being supportive, all right. Haven’t seen him this glued to someone since… well, ever.”

I rolled my eyes, but the seed of awareness began to sprout in my mind. Azriel had indeed been a constant presence, his quiet strength a comfort I hadn’t realized I’d leaned on so much.

“Do you think it might be a mating bond?” Mor asked casually, too casually, as she inspected her nails.

The question halted me, the weight of the implication settling in my stomach like a stone. The mating bond was sacred, profound—was I ready for something like that? The very thought made my heart race, not just with fear but with a blossoming hope I hadn’t acknowledged until now.

“Maybe he’s just being a good friend,” I countered, but my voice lacked conviction.

Cassian raised an eyebrow, giving me a knowing look. “When you know, you know,” he said simply. “And it looks like you’re starting to realize something there.”

We resumed training, but his words echoed in my mind with each strike and block. Azriel’s face appeared in my thoughts, his smiles, the gentle touch of his hands, the way his eyes lit up when he looked at me lately. My feelings for him, which I had shelved as mere gratitude or the simple need for companionship during recovery, seemed to be deepening into something richer, more profound.

As we finished and walked back towards the House of Wind, Mor looped her arm through mine. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once,” she whispered. “But don’t close your heart to the possibility of something beautiful. Azriel cares for you deeply, more than just as a friend or protector.”

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow that bathed the world in a soft, forgiving light. It felt symbolic, reflective of my own internal dawn. Maybe, just maybe, I was ready to consider that what lay between Azriel and me could be the kind of love that songs and tales were spun from. As fear and doubt receded, leaving room for this new, tender hope, I realized that my journey of healing was also leading me down a path of rediscovering my capacity to love—not just Azriel, but myself and this new life I was slowly, bravely building.

(Mid Summer, The River House)

That evening, the dinner with the Inner Circle was held at the sprawling, candlelit table in the River House. The atmosphere was thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses, a symphony of friendship and familial bonds. The windows were thrown open, allowing the crisp, cool air of Velaris to sweep through the room, mixing with the scent of jasmine and roasted meats.

As I entered the dining room, a subtle change in my demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by the group. Rhysand was the first to catch my eye, giving me a nod of approval and a warm, welcoming smile. Amren, ever observant, watched me with her piercing gaze, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips, acknowledging the shift in my spirits.

Azriel, standing slightly apart, offered me a soft, encouraging smile as I took my place next to him. His quiet strength bolstered my newfound resolve to engage more fully with those around me.

Dinner began with a lively discussion led by Feyre about a recent exhibition at the art gallery in the city. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she described the vibrant colors and revolutionary techniques of the new artists showcased. I listened, chiming in with my thoughts on the integration of night and day themes, which earned an approving laugh from Rhys.

As the meal continued, Cassian, true to form, began recounting one of his training escapades, embellishing the details to make his tale more dramatic. “And then, just as I was about to execute my perfectly planned maneuver, an Illyrian baby sneezed on me. Totally threw off my game!”

Laughter erupted around the table, and I found myself genuinely chuckling, the sound surprising even to me. “Only you, Cassian, could be outmaneuvered by a baby’s sneeze,” I teased, earning a round of applause and a mock bow from Cassian.

“See, she’s got jokes now! Our girl’s coming back to us,” Mor exclaimed, her face alight with joy. She reached over to squeeze my hand, her gesture warm and reassuring.

As plates were cleared and desserts were served, the conversation shifted to lighter, more personal stories. Feyre shared anecdotes about her latest painting misadventures, while Mor detailed her plans for the upcoming festival in the city. Each story, each shared laugh, felt like a stitch mending the frayed edges of my soul.

As the dinner party began to wind down in the warm, laughter-filled hall, a soft coo from the corner caught my attention. Nyx, cradled gently in Feyre’s arms, was awake and curiously peeking over her shoulder with wide, starry eyes. I felt my heart tug softly. It had been too long since I had held him, too long since I’d allowed myself to be part of these simpler, beautiful family moments.

Feyre caught my gaze and smiled, understanding immediately. “Someone wants to say hello,” she said softly, walking over with Nyx. His small hand reached out, and I couldn’t help but smile as his fingers grasped at the air between us.

“May I?” I asked, my voice a whisper of excitement mixed with a hint of uncertainty.

“Of course,” Feyre replied, carefully transferring Nyx into my arms. The baby settled against me with ease, a soft sigh escaping him as if he found comfort in my embrace. His tiny hand reached up, touching my cheek gently, an innocent gesture that felt like a reassurance of missed affection. It was as if he was saying he remembered me, that he too had felt the absence of our connection.

The moment wasn’t lost on Azriel, who watched from a short distance. His shadows flickered subtly around him, a telltale sign of his emotions stirring beneath that calm exterior. Since the conversation with Cassian and Mor earlier today, every glance, every small interaction with him seemed charged with a new, silent tension. My newly admitted feelings for him amplified each shared look, adding weight to the air between us.

As I rocked Nyx gently, my thoughts drifted to Azriel again. His presence at my side had become a constant, his support unwavering. The depth of my affection for him had crept up silently, weaving itself into the fabric of my daily life until it was indistinguishable from my other truths. I found myself stealing glances at him, each look a quiet confession of the feelings I was only beginning to allow myself to acknowledge.

Azriel eventually made his way over, his gaze softening as he looked at Nyx in my arms. “He’s missed you,” Azriel murmured, his voice barely audible over the low hum of conversation around us.

I met his eyes, feeling a flush of warmth at the intimacy of the moment. “I’ve missed him, too. Missed all of this,” I admitted, my voice thick with emotion. The way Azriel looked at me then, with such warmth and depth, made my heart skip a beat.

“Looks good on you,” he said after a pause, nodding towards Nyx.

The comment, simple and offhand, thrummed with unspoken meanings. It was a nudge against the boundaries we had maintained, a gentle probing into the new spaces of my heart that had begun to open to him.

As I handed Nyx back to Feyre, I caught Azriel’s arm gently. “Stay for a moment?” I asked, my voice hopeful, laden with the weight of all the things I hadn’t yet said.

He nodded, his usual reserve melting away for a moment as he stayed by my side, his presence a silent promise of things perhaps soon to be explored. We both knew something unspoken was shifting between us, and while neither of us was ready to dive into those waters just yet, acknowledging it—even in silence—felt like the first step toward a new horizon.

(Mid Summer, The House of Wind)

The following week, Feyre, Mor, Nesta, and I revived our "book club"—a ruse for nights filled with wine, wild discussions about our latest reads, and shared secrets under the cloak of night. As I sat curled up on a plush couch, a glass of wine in hand, surrounded by these incredible women, a profound sense of belonging enveloped me. Here, in these moments, I was safe to just be; to heal, to laugh, to grow.

The cozy nook tucked away in the House of Wind had become our sanctuary, a place where the Inner Circle’s book club convened to discuss literature, life, and everything in between. Tonight, as the flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across the room, I settled into my usual spot among the plush cushions, surrounded by my closest friends.

Feyre, Nesta, and Mor lounged around me, each with a book in hand, their faces alight with anticipation for our weekly gathering. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, the air buzzing with the promise of lively conversation and shared insights.

“So, what’s everyone reading this week?” Mor asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced around the circle.

Feyre held up a worn copy of her latest find, a tale of forbidden love and political intrigue. “I’m revisiting an old favorite,” she said with a smile. “It’s like catching up with an old friend.”

Nesta, with a smirk playing on her lips, produced a rather scandalous-looking novel with a provocative cover. “I’m exploring the more… sensual side of literature,” she declared, her voice dripping with amusement.

As the conversation flowed around me, I couldn’t help but chuckle at Nesta’s choice. Leave it to her to bring a little spice to our book club discussions. I was hesitant to share tonight, scared to share my feelings so blatantly, to say them out loud in a space with women who would not so soon let me forget. Tonight felt different, though, I felt stronger, able to seize this chance to share with my friends the tumultuous emotions swirling inside me.

“I’ve been reading this collection of poetry,” I began, my voice tentative at first. “It’s funny how words can capture the complexity of human emotions so beautifully.”

Mor’s eyes gleamed with interest, her grin widening. “Ah, poetry—the language of the heart,” she said, her tone teasing yet tender. “Any particular poem speaking to you?”

I hesitated, my gaze flickering to the empty spot where Azriel usually sat. His absence was keenly felt, a reminder of the unresolved tension between us. “There’s one poem that resonates with me,” I admitted, my voice growing stronger with each word. “It’s about…” I faltered, the weight of my confession heavy on my tongue.

Feyre leaned forward, her eyes warm with understanding. “About love?” she prompted gently, her hand reaching out to squeeze mine in silent support.

I nodded, the words spilling forth in a rush. “About love, and fear, and the courage to open your heart to someone—even when it scares you.”

Nesta regarded me with a thoughtful expression, her gaze piercing yet compassionate. “Love is a battlefield,” she said, her voice soft yet firm. “But sometimes, the greatest victories come from facing our fears head-on.”

Mor chimed in with her trademark humor, lightening the mood with a well-timed joke. “Who knew our stoic Shadowsinger had a soft spot for you?”

Feyre smiled knowingly, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Maybe it’s time to confront the shadows and see what lies beneath.”

Nesta couldn’t resist adding her own brand of wit to the conversation. “Speaking of shadows,” she said with a sly grin, “has anyone else noticed Azriel’s wingspan lately?”

We all laughed at Nesta’s comment, the tension in the room dissipating as we embraced the camaraderie of our little gathering. Despite the challenges we faced, tonight was a reminder that with the support of friends, even the darkest shadows could be chased away.

As the evening wore on, our conversation drifted from books to more personal topics, each of us sharing snippets of our lives and experiences. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, a chance to peel back the layers and reveal the raw truths hidden beneath.

Nesta, ever the enigma, shared tales of her latest adventures in the human lands, her sharp wit and cunning intellect shining through with every word.

Mor, always the life of the party, regaled us with stories of her escapades in the Court of Nightmares, her laughter contagious as she recounted her misadventures.

And Feyre, with her quiet strength and unwavering compassion, offered words of wisdom and encouragement, her presence a soothing balm to our troubled souls.

As for me, I found solace in their company, the weight of my burdens eased by the warmth of their friendship. In their laughter and shared moments, I found the courage to confront my fears and embrace the possibility of a brighter future.

And as the candles burned low and the night grew late, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, I would face them with the unwavering support of my sisters by my side.

The support of the entire Inner Circle was a force as tangible as the magic that coursed through our veins—a constant, steadfast presence that fortified me against the darker moments. Their belief in me, their unyielding backing, gave me strength, and little by little, I began to feel not just the shadow of the person I once was, but someone stronger, resilient, reborn from adversity.

In these gatherings, these moments of shared vulnerability and joy, I was not just healing. I was transforming—emerging not how I was before the kidnapping, but perhaps even brighter, tempered by trials and warmed by the unwavering light of the family I chose and who had chosen me in return.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The night pressed heavily around the room, its silence a thick, oppressive blanket punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of Azriel beside me. In the comfort of his proximity, sleep had finally granted me a temporary reprieve from the relentless torment of my nightmares. Yet, the peace was fragile, vulnerable to the slightest disturbance—a reality proven as a sharp, inexplicable chill sliced through the room's stagnant warmth.

The temperature plummeted, wrapping its icy fingers around my spine, jolting me awake. My eyes flicked open, instantly scanning the familiar contours of the room bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight. Shadows clung to the walls like dark, silent sentinels until one stirred coalescing into a form far too human, far too familiar.

Lyris emerged from the darkness as though materializing from my deepest fears, his presence a tangible echo of past horrors. His eyes, sharp and merciless, locked onto mine with the precision of a hunter sighting its prey. The sheer malevolence in his gaze sent a visceral shudder through me, yet it was no longer solely fear that stirred within my veins. Anger, raw and blazing, kindled within, fueling a burgeoning defiance I hadn't known I possessed.

"Thinking you could escape me?" Lyris's voice was a venomous hiss, his form inching closer with predatory grace. His smirk was twisted, a grotesque mask of sadistic anticipation.

But then, with the seamless reflexes honed by centuries of battle, Azriel was between us. His body moved with lethal precision, his hand snapping out to seize Lyris by the wrist, halting his advance with unyielding strength. "She's under my protection," Azriel snarled, his voice a dangerous, low rumble. His other hand flicked to his side, the sound of steel sliding from leather slicing through the tension as he brandished a dagger, its blade catching the moon's silver light.

Lyris recoiled slightly, his eyes darting to the blade then back to Azriel’s unwavering stare. "You think you can keep her from her fate?" he spat, struggling against Azriel's iron grip.

“Her fate is her own, and you have no part in it,” Azriel retorted, his wings unfurling menacingly. The air around us thickened with dark, swirling shadows, responding to the raw power emanating from him. In that moment, he was not just my protector but an avenging angel cloaked in night's embrace.

The room filled with a heavy, expectant silence, thick with the weight of unspoken threats. Breaking the tension, I found my voice, though it trembled with the force of my emotions. "Where are my wings, Lyris?" The question tore from me, a desperate plea tangled with a demand.

"Your wings?" he mused mockingly, his eyes glinting with cruelty. "Such a precious prize… Let's just say they're kept in a place where they await their true destiny—far from your reach.”

"Give them back," Azriel demanded, his tone lethal, a stark contrast to the deceptive calm of his posture.

Lyris's laugh was cold and chilling, like the howl of the wind outside. "You overestimate your power here, shadow singer. I could take her now, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."

Azriel's response was swift and deadly serious. "Try it, and it will be the last thing you do." His wings unfurled dramatically as he snatched Lyris’ wrist in a powerful grip, the span of dark membrane filling the room with a sense of otherworldly power. The shadows around him deepened, swirling in response to his anger and the protective fury that laced every syllable.

The standoff stretched, a moment suspended in time where every breath, every heartbeat was laden with potential violence. Then, with a jerk, Lyris wrenched free, stepping back into the protective shroud of darkness. “She will never be free from me," he hissed, his presence oppressive, suffocating. "And neither will you."

Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he dissolved into shadows, leaving a cold void in his wake. His final words echoed ominously, a malevolent promise hanging in the air. As the immediate threat vanished, Azriel’s demeanor shifted, the lethal warrior receding to reveal his concern. He turned to me, his intense gaze softening. “Are you alright?” His voice was now a gentle whisper, a stark contrast to the deadly thunder from moments before.

I collapsed back against the pillows, my body trembling uncontrollably. The fear wasn't just about the physical presence of Lyris—it was the emotional and psychological terror, the deep scars he had left on my soul, that overwhelmed me.

Azriel sat beside me, enveloping me in his arms, his presence a solid, reassuring force against the lingering echoes of dread. "I'm here. You're safe," he murmured against my hair, his voice a soothing balm.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, sobs wracking my body as the terror slowly ebbed away, replaced by immense fatigue. "We have to get them back, Azriel. I need to feel whole again."

His embrace tightened, a silent promise of unyielding support. "We will," he assured me quietly. "No matter what it takes, we will bring them back.” He took a deep breath, his arms tightening around me as if he were scared that I might run from him. “Always, I will protect you. From him, from anyone who dares to threaten you,” he murmured into my hair, his breath warm against my scalp. His wings, now gently wrapped around us, formed a cocoon that felt impenetrable.

Settling back against him, I allowed the warmth of his embrace to seep deeper into my bones, expelling the lingering chill of Lyris's visit. His presence was a bastion, within which I found not only protection but a profound sense of belonging.

As we lay back down, the room once again shrouded in the soothing silence of night, a new resolve fortified my spirit. Lyris had found me, yes, but he had not found me alone, nor would he ever. Azriel’s vow to protect me was more than a promise—it was a declaration, a sentinel set against the darkness, both within and without. As sleep beckoned once more, the shadows no longer seemed an ominous threat lurking in the corners but allies, guardians cloaked in the same darkness that wrapped around us, a shield against all that would do harm.

(Late Summer, Cassian)

The morning after Lyris's intrusion, the House of Wind seemed to hold its breath, an unspoken tension palpable in the air. Everyone had shared their worries for her, our friend who had clawed her way back from that bastard's torment. We all worried, we all loved her so greatly, enjoyed the way her presence warmed Azriel’s cold exterior and to see her fall back into that dark place she had fought her way out of, to take Azriel unknowingly with her again, it poured a dark sense of grief over the house.

But amidst the uncertainty, the deep seeded fear of losing our friend once more, there was a glimmer of light, a beacon of hope cutting through the darkness. Entering the kitchen, I was met with a scene that caught me off guard—our friend, her laughter ringing out like a bell as she shared a moment of levity with Azriel. It was a rare sight, one that stirred a mixture of surprise and quiet satisfaction within me.

Azriel, usually cloaked in shadows both literal and metaphorical, had a small, genuine smile playing at the corners of his lips. His usually guarded demeanor seemed to soften in her presence, and I couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in the air between them.

Their interaction spoke volumes, a silent language of understanding and companionship that transcended words. Despite the trials they had faced, there was a sense of comfort and familiarity in their shared laughter, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still light to be found in the company of those we held dear.

As I joined them in the kitchen, a silent witness to their shared moment of joy, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the bond that had formed between them. Their friendship had weathered storms that would have broken lesser souls, and yet here they were, laughing together as if the weight of the world had been lifted from their shoulders.

And as I observed them, surrounded by the warmth of their laughter and the comfort of their companionship, I couldn't help but feel a surge of hope for the future. For in the bond between her and Azriel, I saw strength, resilience, and the promise of brighter days ahead.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The day had been long and daunting, with every passing moment feeling like a test of endurance. The worry from my friends was palpable, their concern etched into every glance and every word. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate their care—it was their hovering, their treating me like a fragile thing, that grated against my newfound sense of strength. But amidst it all, there was Azriel.

He stood as a steadfast anchor amidst the storm, a silent guardian who watched over me with unwavering determination. While others fretted and fussed, he remained at my side, a silent sentinel who seemed to understand without the need for words. His presence alone was enough to bolster my spirits, to remind me that I was not alone in this struggle.

Throughout the day, I found myself stealing glances at him, marveling at the depth of his care. How had I not noticed it before? His gaze lingered on me with a mixture of concern and understanding, his eyes a window to the depths of his soul. It was as if he saw straight through the facade I presented to the world, recognizing the strength within me even when I doubted it myself.

As evening descended and the weight of the day settled upon us, we retreated to the familiar sanctuary of my room. Azriel had made it his own, his presence a comforting presence in the darkness. The routine of preparing for bed had become second nature to us—changing into pajamas, brushing our teeth side by side, and slipping under the covers as Azriel performed his meticulous check of the room.

In the quiet moments before sleep claimed us, we lay in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for Azriel's unwavering support, for his steadfast presence that had seen me through the darkest of days. It was a bond forged in the crucible of adversity, a connection that defied explanation yet felt more real than anything I had ever known.

“Azriel?” I called softly into the night, my voice barely a whisper.

He turned to me, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window. For a moment, we simply gazed at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. And then, with a small smile, he reached out, pulling me closer until I was nestled against his chest.

At that moment, as I lay nestled against Azriel's chest, something shifted between us—a subtle yet profound change that altered the very fabric of our connection. It was as if the air crackled with an invisible energy, a tangible tension that seemed to draw us closer together.

I felt it first, the unmistakable sensation of the mating bond snapping into place with a sudden clarity that took my breath away. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. The primal need to be close to him, to feel his presence as an extension of my own, suddenly made perfect sense.

And then, as if in response to my realization, Azriel let out a small gasp, his arms tightening around me with a fierce urgency that mirrored my own. It was a primal, instinctual reaction, as if some ancient part of him recognized the significance of this moment and refused to let me go.

In that instant, all doubts and uncertainties melted away, replaced by a profound sense of clarity and understanding. We were bound together, our souls intertwined in a way that transcended the physical realm. And as I gazed into Azriel's eyes, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united by the unbreakable bond that now bound us.

"I'll protect you, ensure you are safe and happy and loved," Azriel vowed, his voice a soothing melody that wrapped around me like a warm embrace, promising sanctuary in the depths of his love.

Tears welled in my eyes as his words washed over me, a flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm my fragile resolve. "As will I," I replied, my voice trembling with the weight of my own commitment, my heart laid bare before him in a moment of raw vulnerability.

His eyes, pools of darkness tinged with golden fire, bore into mine with a fierce intensity, piercing through the walls I had built around my heart. "Throughout all the seasons you will be mine, if that is what you want?" His voice was a whisper, yet it echoed through the chambers of my soul, stirring something deep within me that I could no longer deny.

With a trembling breath, I reached out to him, my fingers trembling as they traced the contours of his face, memorizing every line, every scar, every shadow that danced across his skin. "There is no one else I would rather share them with," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, the truth of my words ringing out in the quiet room like a sacred vow.

And in that moment, as our souls intertwined in the golden threads of the mating bond, I felt a surge of emotion wash over me, overwhelming in its intensity. It was as if the weight of a thousand lifetimes had been lifted from my shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace and belonging that I had longed for all my life.

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I pressed my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the space between us as we stood on the precipice of eternity. In that sacred embrace, we found refuge from the storms that had battered our souls, forging a connection that would endure the trials of time. And as we surrendered to the pull of the mating bond, our hearts beat as one, a symphony of love and devotion that echoed through the halls of the House of Wind.

Together, we would face the challenges that lay ahead, our bond a beacon of hope in the darkness, guiding us through the labyrinth of life with unwavering strength and unwavering love.

For in each other's arms, we had found our home, our sanctuary, our forever. And as the night enveloped us in its embrace, we knew that no matter what trials awaited us, we would face them together, united in a love that was destined to last for all eternity.

[PREVIOUS]

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soulessjourney · 1 year ago

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Hello love I have a request that I would love you to write!

Cassian or Azriel I am not picky and Y/N

Y/n gets into an argument with Cassian and or Azriel about how they are not attentive, and they’re for them anymore and says that if things don’t change they’re leaving. Things do not change and it is the night that the inner circle goes into Hewn city. at the gala, Eris ask Y/N to dance. And one of the boys is really brooding just standing in a corner just watching YN and Eris dance and then is the part where Taylor goes. “I can see you staring honey like he’s just your understudy like you get your knuckles, bloody for me” I want their eyes to connect from across the dance floor. That would be great. then I am giving you full creative freedom with the undertones of exile by Taylor Swift. give me all the angst you can give the more the better.

I absolutely love this idea! I hope that I live up to your expectations and provided enough angst to feed that burning hunger of yours! Also apologies that it has taken me so long, in all honesty I kept forgetting what I was writing and I wanted it to be PERFECT.

Exile

Paring: Azriel x Reader

Word count: 4k

Summary: Azriel starts to distance himself from you. Fed up with his disappearing acts, you confront him, only for it to end in driving you away entirely.

Warnings: Angst (and lots of it), Fighting, Language, Hurt and comfort (from Mor)

If there was one thing Azriel was known for, it was his dedication to his work and his undying loyalty to Rhysand. He was also your mate, someone who meant the entire world to you. You had met Azriel about two hundred years ago when you started your bakery. He came in after watching you struggle with carrying the large bags of flour, extending a helping hand. Since then, he started coming daily to see what new goods you were cooking up, and that's when he asked you on your first date.

The first date was a bit awkward as he shied away, speaking in such a hushed tone that you had to repeatedly ask him to repeat himself. Despite Azriel's strength, you loved his shy side. There was something so docile and soft about it, and you were the only one who truly got to see that side of him.

When the bond snapped into place, both of you were fighting over who would mix the flour, ending with both of you covered from head to toe. It was when he heard your infectious laugh that he felt it, and it was obvious when you gave him that loving gaze he was drawn to. Your eyes were so soft, and your smile was wide. So, that evening, you made him his favorite treat and offered it to him, which soon led to Azriel making sure Rhysand got it through Cassian’s head that you two were not to be bothered for a few weeks.

Those were the moments you missed more than anything. You missed curling up with Azriel as you read the same book, often sharing your reactions. You missed hiding from him to scare him, only to fail the moment his shadows shot out to greet you after a long day. You missed your mate, and your happy memories felt like a fever dream. He was starting to become a distant memory, and part of you wasn’t even sure if you wanted to put up a fight.

You couldn't recall the last time you had spent more than a few moments with him. Lately, he had been staying at the House of Wind to be closer to Rhysand, ready for any last-minute missions that might arise. Initially, you didn't mind, considering Rhysand's frequent missions, especially when Feyre was pregnant and needed his support. However, what began to trouble you was that he never invited you to join him, nor did he visit your shared home to see you.

Then you heard about the time he started spending with Elain. You weren't bothered by her, as you couldn't blame her for shutting everyone out. Her entire life had been stripped away in a matter of moments, and now she was essentially immortal, with a mate forced upon her. However, understanding also brought weariness. You could sense that she had developed feelings for your mate, and Azriel, being who he is, most likely was unaware of the affection she held towards him. Strangely, this knowledge made you want to be around him more, but you didn't know how to navigate the situation.

Azriel had been a significant presence in your life, and the sensation of him slipping away was something you loathed. At some point, he had closed off the bond, making it nearly impossible to reach out to him through it. Running your hands over your face, you attempted to dispel the exhaustion before deciding to visit the House of Wind to ensure Azriel was at least alive.

Your arrival at the House of Wind did not go unnoticed. Cassian, upon spotting you ascending to the training area, made your presence known. "Y/N! You're here. We've been wondering when you would show up. We were starting to think you didn't like us," he teased, capturing everyone's attention.

Clearing your throat, you offered him a small smile as the breeze tousled your hair. "Yeah, things have been hectic at the bakery. Have you seen Azriel? It's been hard to find him lately," you inquired, noticing Cassian's expression contorting into one of pure confusion.

"What do you mean? He said he was with you this morning," Cassian replied, scrutinizing your every move. Dread began to fill your body as the realization that Azriel had even been deceiving the others dawned on you.

Forcefully laughing, you scratched the back of your head, clearing your throat. "No, he was! By 'lately,' I meant during the day since he's usually all over because of the missions Rhys keeps assigning him," you explained, even your forced smile fading as Cassian's gaze filled with concern and pity.

"Y/N, Rhys hasn't assigned him anything for a while, not after what happened with Feyre and your injury. Rhys wanted him to be around you more because of that close call. Are you telling me you haven't seen him?" Cassian inquired, raising a brow and challenging you to lie. By now, the entire area had cleared out except for Nesta, who stood in the background watching you and Cassian, her jaw tense. She knew something, and you would extract it from her if necessary.

"No, I haven't. I mean, he comes home once in a blue moon, but then he just sleeps in the guest room, and he's gone by the time I wake up," you admitted, your shoulders sagging. "I really miss him, Cass. The nightmares are starting to return. He's not avoiding me because he blames himself for what happened, right?" Just a few months ago, Azriel had angered someone, resulting in a dagger being firmly lodged in your side. Recalling that moment, you realized Azriel wasn't present when Cassian and Feyre found you on the floor of the bakery's kitchen that morning.

You heard Nesta curse before she joined Cassian's side. "I spoke to the idiot already, and I thought I got through to him. He's with Elain in the garden. I saw them just before training started, and considering how often they spend time there, he should still be there," she divulged, her expression shifting from anger to guilt. You wanted to be furious, but part of you couldn't muster the anger towards her. Nesta had tried her best to handle the situation discreetly, but with her knowing, you wondered just how long Azriel had been sneaking around with Elain while deceiving the rest of his family.

You hadn’t heard anything else Nesta had said as your feet carried you through the house. Just as you turned the corner, you collided with a solid chest, causing you to stumble back. Looking up, you sucked in a deep breath as your eyes locked with a pair of hazel ones. "Azriel," you breathed, reaching out towards him. Your hand fell to your side when he pulled away from you. "I've missed you. You're never around anymore," your voice thick with emotion as you struggled to say anything beyond the standard 'I miss you'.

Azriel glanced over your shoulder, his expression hardening. "You're not supposed to be here. Why are you here?" His eyes eventually met yours as a scoff escaped your mouth. You hadn’t seen your mate for the past few weeks, and that’s what he had to say to you? That you weren’t supposed to be there, trying to ensure he was alive?

"You're joking, right? Azriel, I haven’t seen you for weeks, and that’s all you have to say? A hello would’ve been nice at least," you snapped, crossing your arms. Rolling his eyes, he turned on his heel and began to walk away. "No, you don’t get to walk away from me, Azriel. That’s not fair. You don’t get to pull a disappearing act without some sort of explanation. You don’t get to lie to your family and expect not to get caught," you snapped, following after him. As the two of you entered the dining area, you missed the others sitting at the table, their conversations cut short as you stomped after Azriel.

Azriel stopped and spun towards you, his wings flaring slightly. "My gods, Y/N, can’t you just get off my back? I’m not going to be there every single second of the day with you. You need to learn how to live without me for once in your life." Any sound that filled the room suddenly fell silent as you took a step back, feeling as though he had slapped you.

"Oh, shit." Looking around, you came face to face with your family, all silent as they watched you. Nesta was glaring daggers at Azriel, while Cassian and Rhysand were positioned to intervene if things went south. Mor and Feyre looked at you, their faces filled with guilt. Then there was Elain, sitting there with the audacity to appear clueless about what was happening. Your entire family was there to witness the potential downfall of your relationship with Azriel. Great.

"What's your issue, Y/N? Why are you on my case today? I haven’t done anything to deserve this nagging. Gods, it’s like after you healed, you became an overbearing mess," Nesta slammed her hands down on the table and stood, prompting Cassian to grab hold of her to prevent her from lunging at Azriel across the room.

A dry laugh escaped you as you narrowed your eyes. “Overbearing? Azriel, you haven’t been around in weeks! You can’t even stand to be in the same room as me. And overbearing? Day to day, I have to deal with the people you anger, and I constantly fear for my life because of your job. I took a damn dagger to the side and almost died because of your job. I’m sorry if accepting you for who you are and your job is overbearing. I’m sorry that worrying for you is just so awful. You’ve changed, Azriel, and I don’t know if it’s because of the damn elephant in the room or if you’ve simply given up. I’m tired of dealing with the nightmares alone, and I want you back by my side when I wake up screaming because I constantly feel that dagger ripping me apart.” Tears streamed down your face as you looked around.

Rhysand had slowly made his way towards you with Mor by his side, the two members of this family, besides Cassian, whom you trusted with your life. Glaring down at the ground, you looked up at Azriel, your face void of any emotion. “If you can’t clean up your act, I’m done.” Azriel froze as a flood of fear slammed into you. He slipped, and you could tell the moment he slammed those walls back up.

“Clean up my act? You’re the one to talk. It’s like ever since you woke up, you became afraid of the world all over again. You shouldn’t need us to walk you to work and back. You shouldn’t need us hanging around the store all day just because you’re scared of someone showing up. I can’t stand to have a mate who is so fearful of the world.” You dropped your shoulders in defeat at his words. It was true; after what happened, you had been terrified of being in that shop, fearing they would come back and finish the job.

Rhysand was next to you in a second, followed by Mor, who caught you as your knees gave out. “That is no way to speak to your mate, Azriel,” Rhysand spat. “You sat around moping because you wanted one. The Mother blesses you with one, and this is how you thank her? Seriously?” Rhysand crossed his arms, the room noticeably darkening.

“Well, maybe she made a mistake. Maybe Y/N isn’t supposed to be my mate. We have nothing in common, meanwhile, Elain and I do.” The moment the words left his mouth, your head snapped in Elain’s direction as you clenched your jaw.

Looking back at Azriel, you shook your head. “I mean it, Azriel. If you can’t clean up your act, I’m done. Don’t bother looking for me until you figure out your mess. I’m done,” you spat, winnowing from your very spot into your room. Grabbing a duffel bag, you began to cram things into it just as you heard footsteps sprinting down the hall towards your door, and the echoes of voices calling out to the owner of those steps.

As Azriel threw open the door, you looked at him as he reached out for you, his mouth opening to say something. Before you could hear what he had to say, you disappeared, leaving him standing in the middle of your room.

---

It had been a month since you chose to seclude yourself in Mor's guest bedroom. As the door slowly opened, light flooded into the dark room, and Mor stepped inside. Sitting on the bed, she gently rubbed your back to draw your attention. "Hey there, sweetheart. It's time to get you out of this room. Velaris has started to notice your absence now that the bakery is closed," she said softly, sensing your reluctance. "He still asks about you, but he's also spending more time with her. Rhys has tried talking sense into him, Cassian kicked his ass, and the girls have been giving him the cold shoulder. I'm sorry, my love, but perhaps attending the Gala in Hewn City would do you good," she suggested, brushing your hair away from your face gently.

You nodded and turned onto your side to look at her, a small frown forming on your lips. Mor's gaze softened as she sighed softly. "Come, I want to show you something," she said, gently pulling you out of bed. Standing up, you followed her out of the room toward another one just down the hall. Mor pushed the door open, revealing a mannequin adorned with a stunning deep purple gown featuring delicate beadwork climbing the bodice. The main skirts bore the design of a tree and leaves, with the beads on the skirt representing flowers. It was the most beautiful gown you had ever seen.

"I had it made for you to wear tonight. You deserve to look and feel beautiful. Azriel is taking you for granted. With your beauty and eyes that could bring a man to his knees, this dress is perfect for you," Mor whispered from behind you, resting her hands on your shoulders gently.

A wide smile graced your lips for the first time in a month as you turned to face Mor. "Thank you, Mor. Truly, it means a lot to me that you did this," your words were soft and heartfelt. A sense of brokenness lingered within you, the result of Azriel's neglect over the past month, compounded by the knowledge of his time spent with Elain. Mor guided you to the bathroom, where she helped you into the tub and began to wet and wash your hair.

"You know, we’re all upset with him for treating you like this. Yes, Elain needed help before, but even Nesta started to reprimand him for spending too much time with her. I remember when he first came home after meeting you. He was covered in flowers and had the biggest grin on his face. He couldn't stop talking about you, and Cassian often had to beg him to stop. But then, after one of his missions went awry and you got hurt, everything changed. He refused to see you, or even go near that part of the house. And then he kissed Elain. I thought Nesta was going to tear him to shreds. After that, he began lying to us about spending time with you, even after Rhysand practically forced him out of the garden." Mor's words pierced through you, mentioning the kiss shattered your fragile emotional state.

A wave of despair washed over you. Shoulders slumping, you gazed down at the water surrounding your bare form. "Do you think he still loves me?" you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty. Mor took a deep breath, visibly caught off guard by your question. She hummed softly as she poured water over your head, grappling for the right words.

"I'm sure he does. Azriel is complex, we all know that. For centuries, he's prayed to The Mother for a mate. I heard him whispering a prayer every night until he met you. Then it turned into begging her to ensure your safety. Azriel tends to shut down and push away those closest to him when he's struggling to cope. He avoided Rhysand when he returned from Amarantha's clutches. His treatment of you isn't fair, but I genuinely don't know how to reach him anymore." Mor cleared her throat, rising to her feet. "I'll leave you to dry off and get into a robe. When you're ready, come downstairs, and I'll help you dress and do your hair," she offered with a comforting smile, squeezing your shoulder before exiting the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

It didn’t take long for you to exit the tub once the water turned cold. After drying off your body, you slipped on a black silk robe and began to towel dry your hair. As you made your way towards the stairs, you made a mental note to find a way to thank Mor for everything she had done for you. Nearing the bottom of the steps, you froze upon hearing Mor engaged in a conversation with someone. Peeking around the corner, you spotted Azriel standing with his back to you in the middle of the living room, while Mor stared at him with an intense gaze. “She thinks you don’t love her, Azriel. You’ve pushed her to the brink of giving up,” she snapped, causing him to tense at her words.

Azriel ran his fingers through his hair, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the right words to say. “I do, I just... I don’t know. I haven’t seen her for a month, and I’m starting to go crazy, Mor. I don’t know what to do about it anymore, and it feels like everything I say comes out wrong,” he confessed. You noticed his shadows lurking in the room, beginning to slither their way towards you.

“And what about the kiss, Azriel? You kissed Elain while your own mate was at home, thinking you were off on some mission Rhysand assigned to you,” Mor jabbed a finger into his shoulder. “You gave up, and she kept pushing. This is your doing, and you need to figure it out. She was serious when she told you to clean up your act. Right now, you’re showing her you’ll never change, not after you hadn’t even bothered to come see her for a month knowing she was here. You pushed her aside for Elain. It’s time you finally accept the consequences of your actions, Azriel. If you lose her for good, that’ll be on you.” Before Azriel could respond, he tensed and turned towards you, his eyes widening.

Allowing your gaze to fall into a blank expression, you looked at Mor. “I’m ready,” your voice came out as a whisper, and Mor nodded, shoving past Azriel. You both made your way back up the stairs, leaving Azriel standing alone in the middle of the room. Once again, you were just out of his reach, and once again, he was on the verge of losing you for good.

---

The gala was breathtaking. Witnessing the courts gathering together always brought you immense joy. Tamlin made his way towards you, a wide smile on his face. “Y/N! It’s good to see you again. We've been missing your baked goods dearly,” he grinned, prompting a laugh from you. Born in the Spring court, you had grown close to Tamlin, and it was there that you honed your baking skills while growing up. When the time came for you to seek a new path, Tamlin had let you go, assuring you that you would always have a home to return to.

When Azriel pulled his disappearing acts, leaving you alone with your thoughts, you often debated returning to Spring, where you knew you had a family who would welcome you with open arms. “Thank you, Tamlin. If I'm ever permitted, I’ll be sure to bring you some of my cookies that you drooled over,” you teased, brushing a curl away from your shoulder.

Tamlin looked around, a questioning look flashing across his face. “Where’s your mate? The last time you and I talked, he was glued to your side.” Your eyes dulled slightly as you shrugged. You hadn’t seen Azriel all evening, though you knew he was here as you were constantly followed by a shadow.

Before you could respond, Eris made his appearance, as fashionable as ever. “Y/N, you truly outdid yourself this time. You look absolutely breathtaking in that dress. Shall we have a dance?” Without waiting for your answer, Eris grabbed your hand and led you towards the dance floor, where bodies swirled in a mesmerizing pattern. You and Eris fell into an easy rhythm as he looked down at you. “Sorry to drag you away from Tamlin, but I couldn’t help but notice how sad you looked. Is it because of your mate?” His eyes bore into yours as you sucked in a deep breath.

“It would be a mistake to lie to you,” you grumbled, earning a laugh of agreement from him. “Azriel and I haven’t talked for a good while. He’s been busy with other things,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. As you both spun, you caught sight of him standing in the corner of the room, watching you. Your eyes hardened as they locked onto his.

Eris cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to him. “You know, if you need a break from your home, you can stay in my court. We obviously have the room, and I can make sure you get the space you need to think. As much as Morrigan hates me, she’s worried about you to the point where she asked me for help.” Studying his gaze, it wasn’t hard to tell that he was being genuine.

Looking towards Azriel again, you studied him, your eyes narrowing as Elain walked up to him, handing him a glass. Biting back your tears, you let your walls down, throwing every ounce of anger, betrayal, sadness, and fear at him. You watched as he stumbled back slightly, his hand flying up over his chest, his eyes locking onto yours. You watched as Elain reached out to him, running her hand over his arm as she tried to check on him. Eris stopped moving as he stood next to you, watching the interaction between the both of them. “Just say the word, and I can take you away from here,” he whispered.

You waited for him to brush off Elain, but he didn’t. He let her hand rest on his cheek as he kept his eyes on yours, his eyes widening. “He doesn’t care about me anymore, Eris. Take me to your court,” you said, looking up at Eris, who only nodded. You didn’t miss how he glanced at Rhysand and the others, giving them a small nod. You didn’t miss how their shoulders sagged in defeat once they realized you were leaving. You didn’t miss how the crowd began to part as Azriel raced towards you, dropping to his knees in front of you. You watched as his body shook with sobs, how he begged you to stay, begged you to stay by his side. “Where were you when I begged The Mother to bring you back to me? Where were you when I was dying on the kitchen floor of my own bakery after taking a knife for you? Where were you when I woke up screaming for you? Go back to Elain, Azriel. You made your decision.” With that, you turned to Eris, giving him a small nod. With that, the both of you walked away, leaving Azriel on the ground sobbing into his hands before he disappeared from your sight as the crowd closed behind you.

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thelov3lybookworm · 4 months ago

Text

Rewrite Fate

Summary: He does not care what the fans say, and so shouldn't she

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Word Count: 1390 (including comments and captions <3)

Warnings: a bit of agst and a tinyyy tiny argument but cass is adorable teehee 😋

A/n: ughh i love cassian hes so a ASDJAFKSHKJHDJKHS🥹

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

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cassian_winkwink

liked by rhysand-thegreat, gwynshusband, gwyn-the-berdara and 490,559 others

cassian_winkwink new song on repeat, guess which one 💪🏻lets see who guesses it 🥳

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gwyn-the-berdara hmmmmmm idk twinkle twinkle little star?

rhysand-thegreat i think its baby shark this time

gwyn-the-berdara aah i see i see 🤭

cassian_winkwink you two are so annoying gosh

imjustagirl1995 strangle me daddy 🤤💦

getsunghoonedloser girl u crazyyy

y/nislovesickgirl rewrite the stars?

cassian_winkwink correctttt 🥳🥳🥳

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Soft sunlight penetrated Y/n’s slumber, letting her know it was far past the time for her to wake up.

But she didn’t want to, especially as the warm weight resting on her body refused to budge at her stirring.

Y/n blinked her eyes open, instantly finding the beautiful face of her beloved. His eyes were still closed, his lashes fluttering. Y/n wondered if he was dreaming, wondered what he was dreaming about. She raised her hand to touch his unbound hair lightly, feeling the strands sifting through her fingers and focusing on the feeling of warmth it induced in her chest instead of the coiling pit of sadness in her stomach.

Cassian’s brows furrowed, and he shifted to snuggle deeper into her chest. It made Y/n smile, and she dug her fingers deeper into his scalp, massaging gently.

"Y/n?" His voice was soft and rough as he peered up at her, his eyes narrowed to get adjusted at the sudden light assaulting his senses. She offered him a smile.

"Hello."

He smiled back sleepily, sighing as he leaned up and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Hey."

"Sleep well?"

She felt him smile against her skin. "Baby, sleeping next to you? I always have the best sleep."

She giggled, drawing circles on his shoulder. "I see."

He pulled away. "You’re supposed to say it back. Say, ‘oh same! I love sleeping next to you too Cassian’."

Y/n rolled her eyes, moving to push off the covers from her body, her heart beating gently in her chest at the softness of the morning. But he didn’t let her, his hands coming to rest on either side of her body, caging her in like his life depended on it.

Considering it was Cassian, he probably would claim it did.

"Cass, we need to get up." Y/n turned her head to search for her phone, trying to grab it from the nightstand, but Cassian’s hand snatched it from her before she could check the time.

"Nope. I deserve some love. Say it."

She shot him an incredulous look, but relented, speaking with exaggerated movements and a high pitched voice. "Oh Cassian! I love waking up next to you!"

He grinned, the lopsided tilt making his dimple peek out from his cheek. "Not the same words, but I can work with that."

Y/n hit him on the shoulder, sitting up. He moved back to sit too, then scooted closer so one of his folded legs rested on her lap.

"So, what are the plans for today?"

Y/n raised a brow, her hands wandering to rest on his thighs involuntarily. "The plan is that you sneak out, go home, then go about your day. Or get yelled at by your manager. Pick what you want."

Cassian’s smile instantly was replaced by a scowl. "No. I said what are the plans for today, and that means what are our plans for today."

Y/n sighed, rubbing her eyes, knowing what conversation was coming and having had it far too many times by now. "Cass, you know we can’t be seen together-"

"Y/n I don’t see the problem in it! Who is anyone to tell me- or you- who to date?"

"You have a fanbase to appeal to and a reputation to uphold Cassian, and they won’t like it, you know that."

He released a frustrated breath. "Y/n, I really, really do not care what any of them think. Not if it means I have to hide my love for you and act like we have nothing going on."

"Your manager agrees we should keep it under wraps for now, Cass."

"You know I want you. You’re not a secret I want to hide. And you know you want me too, so please stop saying our hands are tied."

Y/n sighed, pushing off the urge to giggle as Cassian effortlessly slipped into his newest role of being the flirty character who’s too poetic for the sanity of the girls around him.

"Cass, you know the fans will get upset. They will do their best to break us up."

"And we won’t, because we’re stronger than that."

Y/n paused, staring deep into his eyes, the hazel that she had been intrigued by even the first time she saw them, before he even noticed her in class. They were so pretty, she could die staring at them and not complain.

They brought her peace, they showered her with the love she always craved.

"Cass, they will think I’m a gold digger, only after your fame and money."

"Are you, though?"

Y/n blinked, surprised. "What?"

"You said they’d think you are a gold digger. Are you?"

She wondered if he’d finally lost his mind. "No, Cass."

He shrugged, taking her hands into his larger ones, enveloping them completely. "Then what’s the problem? Let them think whatever they want to. I know you’re not only with me for superficial reasons, and you know that too. It is only us and our thoughts that matter."

Y/n felt her eyes go wet, but she smiled and shoved his shoulder. "I don’t know what they feed you at the set. Is it some sort of drug that isn’t getting off? Why are you being so cheesy?"

She blinked away the tears forming and found him grinning at her, his head cocked and gaze fixated on her. He looked almost… lovesick.

"I have to be cheesy, after all I play the role of the silly one in this relationship, no?"

Y/n sniffled, looking away for a moment. "And yet you’re the intelligent one."

Cassian gently tugged on her hands, making her meet his gaze. "Rhys and Az would laugh if you said that, you know."

Y/n’s brows furrowed. "You’re always happy doesn’t mean you are dumb, Cass."

His eyes softened. "I know, baby."

She huffed, pulling her hands away from his hold and wiggling out from under him. He watched her intently, his hands hovering around her as she crawled into his lap before wrapping them around her.

"You’re very smart, Cass."

He laughed, hugging her tighter as she placed her head in his neck. "Thank you, sweetheart."

She nodded quietly, playing with the fabric of his shirt.

"So? Do we agree that we should let everyone know?" He mumbled, one of his hands rubbing her back.

"Cass, are you sure?"

"I’ve been sure since day one, sweetheart. You are the only one I want, as a girlfriend, as a wife, as the mother of my kids. It will always be you. The opinions of a select few fans will not change that. And if they don’t like it, I can always stop acting. I mean, you matter to me more than anything."

She peered up at him, feeling tears gather at her waterline again. "I love you so much, Cass. And you don’t have to do that."

He smiled down at her, his eyes warm and soft as he moved to peck her forehead. "I love you too, Y/n. And I will if they’re too mean to you."

Y/n could predict his next actions as he began kissing her cheek, the nose. Before he could touch his lips to hers, she slapped him on the bicep.

"Brush your teeth first, asshole."

He laughed, nuzzling into her cheek again. "As my love wishes."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

y/nislovesickgirl

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y/nislovesickgirl soft launch? hard launch? you pick teehee @ cassian_winkwink

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rhysand-thegreat finally!! they're public yayy 🥳

cassian_winkwink it took some persuasion but here we are 🥹

feyre-archer-on omg im so happy for you two girly 🥹

y/nislovesickgirl 🥹❣️

imjustagirl1995 O.M.G.???????? CASSIAN HAS A GIRL????

cassian_winkwink since i was in uni 😏

getsunghoonedloser OH MY GOSH WHY DID I NOT KNOW THIS 😦

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