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steddiealltheway · 7 months

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It's Cass Day!!!! Happy happy happy happy birthday @henderdads. i love you so so much, and I'm so thankful that you let me plot all my fics and ficlets (including this one ha!) in your dms. (and of course, I'm thankful for you forever and always for everything). I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful birthday :))))

Wednesday afternoons are Steve’s favorite afternoon out of the whole week.

There’s something about pushing a squeaky cart around the local grocery store and making small talk with the Wednesday regulars - a gossipy book club of moms who do their shopping at the same time so they have more time to complain about their husbands - that really fills Steve heart. (Or maybe it’s just the slight bitchy side of him that loves to rag on Elizabeth’s husband Tom who really needs to get his head out of his ass and appreciate the beauty in front of him, and of course he can’t forget Charles, Lisa’s dick of a husband who apparently doesn’t know what a date night is, oh! And Margaret’s husband Al… and really, he could go on about these husbands for hours without getting tired of it)

Really, he loves the routine of it all. And the way the women dote on him for being so kind to his girlfriend back home - which he constantly reminds them is not his girlfriend. But he sometimes wishes the groceries in his cart and the scribbled list in his hand was for someone he could go back home to greet with a kiss. (After giving Robin a hug of course, because in any fantasy, some of those things on that list and in the cart are always going to be for Robin).

But really, it would be nice to have someone to brag about to the group. Maybe bring up their spirits that love is not lost and-

Steve stops in his tracks, all thoughts gone from his head as he does a double take at the magazine rack near the checkout. And yeah, he knows that Corroded Coffin is popular. Hell, he’s seen Eddie’s face on the same rack at least five times before. But never like this.

The picture on the front page is taken at a lower angle, with Eddie clad in leather pants and a tight mesh black shirt that might be a crop top, but Steve can’t tell with the way Eddie’s guitar is covering his midriff, hands flying over the frets, showing off silver rings glimmering under the stage lights including the one that Steve helped Dustin pick out for him as a celebratory gift. But as Steve’s eyes trace over Eddie’s bare arms and the stark black tattoos, he’s led to wild curls perfectly framing Eddie’s face which stares down at the cords, mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape and eyebrows knitted together in concentration in a way that makes Steve feel weak in the knees.

And Steve’s suddenly hit with the question: Why didn’t anyone tell him that Eddie was hot???

He snatches the magazine off the rack before he can even really think about it, and tries not to think of what the moms will say about him when he leaves.

Maybe they’ll stop assuming he has a girlfriend at home at least.

During his drive home, he can’t help but think about the magazine laying between the loaf of bread and carton of ice cream that were packed together by the newest bag boy - which the ladies have a lot to say about, but Steve can’t think of anything besides that damn picture.

Once he’s back at the apartment, he puts the groceries away at an alarmingly fast rate, before making his way to the couch and laying back with the magazine in his hands.

It’s nice to see Eddie on the front cover of a magazine without it being attached to some weird scandal that Eddie had nothing to do with. Usually it’s an ill timed photo because he always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this time…

Steve let’s out a deep breath and flips through the magazine, hoping that there’s some type of interview with more pictures that he can secretly stare at and panic about later.

There’s a bunch of boring looking articles and ads until he spots a page with bright red lettering and a number of pictures. Steve can’t help but wet his lips when he opens the page to find a picture of Eddie smiling at something off camera, looking totally different from the front cover. He just looks like… Eddie.

Yet, Steve finds his heart racing even harder at this picture, missing those dimples and that glimmer of mischief in Eddie’s eyes that’s usually directed at him. And Steve suddenly wonders what or who Eddie's looking at, feeling a bloom of jealousy in his chest.

He glances away from the picture and scans the page for another one. He smiles when he sees Eddie with the rest of his band mates, leaning heavily on Jeff while pulling his signature expression, nearly elbowing Jeff in the ribs to do his devil horns.

Steve laughs at Jeff’s face scowling down at him while Gareth and Frank cackle beside them. He wonders when they’ll be back in town.

Wait.

Steve dog ears the page before running up to his calendar where Robin had written “Dustin’s favorite day ever” on the upcoming Friday.

“Oh no,” Steve mutters to himself. That’s way too damn soon for Eddie to come home after Steve’s realization. He needs to give him at least two weeks to panic and process.

Okay, if Eddie was there with him, the panicking and processing would probably happen in two hours- no, minutes- maybe even seconds. But giving Steve two days is not the right amount of time. That’s just enough time for Steve to really start and settle into the panic. But hey, maybe he can dedicate the next twenty-four hours to panicking and the twenty-four hours after that to processing. Right?

Absolutely. He can do this.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"Robin, I can't do this."

Robin rolls her eyes at him. "I can't believe one picture wrecked you."

"It's not my fault! It's the damn photographer and whoever put that picture on the front cover," Steve complains, running a hand through his hair. "They're the ones who made me think of him like that."

"Uh huh."

Steve glances over at Robin who looks completely engrossed in painting her nails a deep purple color that looks black from where Steve is standing. He glances at himself in the mirror, nervously styling his hair before picking up the magazine from where it has made a permanent home on the coffee table. He flops down on the couch next to Robin who yelps and groans, "You made me smudge my nail polish!"

"We have more important things to worry about than the state of your nail polish."

Robin carefully cleans around the edge of her nail, stained with the dark color before turning to Steve. "Yes, the sudden realization that Eddie is hot is very important to me."

"You know what I mean," Steve sighs, leaning back against the couch as he opens the magazine to his favorite picture of Eddie in this edition. He looks at it for a moment, immediately closing it when he realizes he's smiling.

Robin blows on her nails and frowns before glancing back at Steve. "Okay. He's going to be here in less than an hour. How can I help you? Although, I really don't think you'll need my help at all."

"What do you mean?" Steve asks, a pinch forming between his brows.

Robin gives him a look. "You're going to act weird around him. He's going to eventually pick up on it. And then you're going to confess all these feelings you're having and then..." Robin has a sudden look of realization and immediate disappointment. "Then, I'm going to have to find somewhere else to stay tonight since you told Eddie he could stay here on the couch, which is not going to happen after your little confession."

"He's going to leave?" Steve asks quickly in confusion and slight panic.

Robin huffs, "No, he's going to be staying in your bed. And I really do not want to hear that."

Steve frowns. "You don't even know if he thinks I'm hot."

A look passes over Robin's face, first humor, then a bit of confusion, disbelief, and, once again, disappointment. "Steve," she asks, grabbing his hand, eyes staring hard into his. "This whole time you've had the magazine, you never read the interview?" Robin asks as if it's the most important question she's ever asked him.

"Why would I read it?" Steve asks with a shake of his head. When Robin's jaw drops, he gets the sudden message that he is definitely missing something. He snatches up the magazine and flips it open, somehow not getting to the interview right away although he was sure that he opened it to that page so much that it permanently creased the spine.

Just as he gets to it. There's a loud, persistent knock on the door.

Steve's and Robin's eyes meet in a panic. "Hide the magazine," Robin all but hisses as she makes it to the door raising her voice to say, "We have neighbors! Keep it down, dingus!"

Steve looks around, wondering if he can shove the magazine under the couch, but he knows Eddie would somehow see it in his antics. When he spots the stack of magazines on their side table, he rushes to put the magazine right in the middle of them. Hiding in plain sight. Perfect.

He stands up as soon as the door swings open, trying not to look guilty and failing miserably, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he realizes it's only Dustin. "Henderson," he says with a goofy smile launching into their handshake and ending it with a quick laugh, knocking off Dustin's hat to ruffle his hair.

When Dustin starts complaining about his hat being on the floor, Steve bends down to pick it up, only for a pale, ring-clad hand to grab onto it at the same time Steve does.

Steve glances up and locks eyes with Eddie. His heart starts to pound at an alarming rate as he takes in the familiar deep brown irises, moving on to take in the slight blush on Eddie's cheeks alongside a wide smile. "Steeeve Harrington," Eddie drawls out, the way he does when he hasn't seen him in a while.

"Munson," Steve says with a nod, a wide smile tugging at his lips that he tries to push down, as he always does when it comes to Eddie as if pretending not to care. The same way he does when he's trying to get someone to like him...

Oh.

Shit, he doesn't just think he's hot. He likes him. Hell, he's liked him for a long time even. And now he has even less time to panic about that.

Steve glances up, finding that Eddie has stood up, hat still between their hands as he stares down confusedly at Steve. He offers a hand, and Steve takes it, easily being pulled up into his space. He lingers close to Eddie, eyes dipping down to his lips, realizing how much he wants- needs this.

He glances up at Eddie, finding his pupils blown wide and his brow furrowed. And Steve finally feels that electricity that he's been searching months- no, years for.

"Am I getting my hat back?" Dustin asks, clearly annoyed.

Steve and Eddie both shove the hat over at the same time, eyes reluctantly leaving each other, only for Steve to see Robin giving him an unimpressed look. He can practically see her trying to figure out who she's going to call to spend the night with.

Steve glances back at Eddie and rushes out, "It's- uh, good to see you again."

Eddie grabs a strand of hair and pulls it in front of his face, kicking nothing as he says, "You miss me, Steve?"

Steve shakes his head automatically, "No." He turns to Dustin and asks him when the others are getting there, but his question is answered when the door opens behind them again.

"Do you guys knock?" Robin asks, stealing the words out of Steve's mouth.

"Do you guys lock your door?" Mike snarks back.

Steve sighs and moves to Robin's side, watching as the kids all greet Eddie excitedly. "Why don't they greet us like that?" Steve quietly bitches.

"Because we're not famous and gone all the time," Robin answers with a frown. "By the way, tonight is going totally as I planned."

Steve rolls his eyes. "No, it is not. I have been acting completely normally around him."

"Yeah, because you two have the tendency to eye fuck each other for an uncomfortable amount of time." Robin pauses and considers what she said. "Actually, I take that back. You two are acting completely normal."

"Since when do we-"

"Hey," Eddie says, successfully cutting Steve off, "When the pizzas get here, I'm paying."

Robin nudges Steve in the side after a few seconds pass, and Steve can't help but stare at the man instead of processing anything he said. "Hmm?"

"I'm paying for the pizza you all ordered," Eddie says, brows still furrowed. "Are you okay?"

Steve nods and crosses his arms. "Yes, it's just that we didn't order any pizza."

"But Dustin said..." Eddie trails off and glances at the kids. "Those little shits."

"Someone needs to give them a stern talking to."

Eddie raises his brows. "Are you shirking your co-parenting duties while I'm away?"

Steve huffs out a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm keeping your sheep in line."

Eddie offers him a big smile and leans in to say, "Sorry, I can't be here often, sweetheart."

Steve shoves him away with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "Go do your part and entertain them."

"And pay for the food!" Eddie reminds him yet again, walking toward the group, eyes not leaving Steve.

"My hero," Steve says, taking a page from Eddie's book of dramatics by crossing his hands over his heart and fluttering his lashes.

Eddie stops in his tracks, looking over him before shaking his head and going to the table where everyone is setting up.

"That was painful to witness," Robin says, scaring the shit out of Steve. She crosses her arms. "Did you really forget I was here?" When Steve doesn't respond, she walks away, muttering, "Unbelievable."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, willing his heart to slow down before he has to sit through this long-ass campaign - that he secretly really enjoys, but no one except Robin will ever know.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, Steve finds himself giving the kids hugs as they rush out his door, nearly missing their curfew. When they make their way to Eddie, he whispers to Robin, "See, the night didn't go as planned at all."

Robin raises her eyebrows at him and whispers back, "Yeah, you're not going to act weird at all when you two are alone."

Steve gives her a panicked look. "What do you mean- you're not leaving are you?"

Robin throws her hands up in a shrug as she backs up into her room, leaving the door open as she very obviously packs an overnight bag. Steve wonders if there is any way to stop her without alerting Eddie.

"What's Buckley doing?" Eddie asks, startling Steve. Eddie reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? You've been on edge all night."

Steve nods automatically. "Yeah, I'm fine." And yeah, he is fine. And he has not been on edge at all because that would mean that Robin is right.

Speak of the devil... "I'm heading out tonight! You two have fun," Robin says with a salute. "I'll see you tomorrow." Before Steve or Eddie can stop her, she's already out the door, leaving them entirely alone. Steve doesn't even remember when the kids all left.

"I'm guessing you know what that's about," Eddie says, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs as he stares at the door.

"No idea," Steve replies, making his way back to the dining area to clean up the remaining mess the teens made, and really he was going to have to give them another lecture about cleaning up after themselves.

"Steve," Eddie says softly.

Steve hums in response but doesn't dare to look his way as he stacks up various empty plastic cups.

"Steve," Eddie tries again.

And Steve knows that tone. Knows that if he fully engages, Eddie will want to have a serious conversation which is not something they often do. So he just keeps cleaning until there's nothing left to do except brush imaginary crumbs off the table.

"Steve," Eddie says, voice impossibly close to him.

Steve takes a deep breath and turns to him, heart skipping a beat when he finds Eddie hovering in his space.

"What's going on?" Eddie asks gently.

Steve shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing." He quickly moves away from Eddie, grabbing a napkin off one of the kitchen counters and tossing it into the trash on his way to the living room.

"Why are you acting weird?"

"I'm not," Steve says, resting his hands on his hips in the same way he does when the kids start to annoy him.

Eddie raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, staring but not saying anything.

Steve stares back, jutting his hip out in a show of how adamant he is about his answer.

After a few tense seconds pass by, Eddie slowly walks closer to him, and Steve fights for his eyes to not flicker down to his lips. When Eddie is within arms reach, he leans forward. "Steve, what is wrong?"

Steve shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes betray him and flicker to the stack of magazines beside the couch. He tries to keep his features carefully blank, but he sees the moment Eddie realizes there is something significant about that glance.

Before Steve can stop him, Eddie is diving down to the magazines, snatching up the whole stack in his arms. Steve moves forward to grab them, only to realize his error when Eddie scoots back and smiles wildly. "This is it, isn't it? What, did you hide a filthy magazine inside here or something?"

"Eddie..." Steve warns, standing above him, hands still on his hips.

Eddie smiles before turning his eyes to the stack and leafing through them. Steve moves down quickly, knocking the magazines out of his hands as he practically straddles Eddie. He stares down at him, eyes wide, about to move back when he notices Eddie's eyes resting on his stomach.

Steve glances down between them only to see the image of Eddie on the front cover staring back at him.

"Shit, I didn't know they released that yet," Eddie says, laying fully back, hands dragging over his face. He lets them rest there before spreading his fingers to ask, "You read the interview, didn't you?"

"No," Steve says honestly.

Eddie frowns and props himself up on his elbows. "When did you get this?"

"Wednesday." And curse his damn mouth for rambling without his permission.

"You got this two days ago but haven't read the interview?" Eddie's expression shifts from fearful to cocky. "Steve Harrington, did you buy this just to stare at me?"

"No," Steve says, crossing his arms.

Eddie sits up fully, and Steve becomes very aware of the way he's still sitting on top of Eddie's thighs. "Did you get all flustered about this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine teasingly.

Steve's eyes flicker to the front cover again, and his lips suddenly feel very dry. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He glances back at Eddie and shrugs. "You look fine."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"

"Has anyone ever told you you need to get your ego in check?"

Eddie smirks at him. "Why would I need to do that when I know Steeeeve Harrington bought the magazine with my face on it?"

"Stop saying my name like that," Steve says, leaning forward trying to be menacing, but only satisfying Eddie by getting closer to him.

"Why? Steeev-" Eddie's cut off when Steve suddenly moves forward and kisses him, hands flying up into his curls to pull him closer.

Steve stills before pulling back, searching Eddie's eyes.

"You...?" Eddie asks before raking a hand through his hair. "You actually bought it to stare at me?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "You already knew that since I'm 'such a bad liar,'" Steve says adding air quotes.

"I was hoping you were. Christ, Steve, this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine.

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "You look hot!"

"Christ," Eddie says again, this time dropping the magazine to pull Steve into another kiss. He breaks it to mumble, "I can't believe you haven't read the damn interview." His hands run through Steve's hair messing up the strands before he pulls back suddenly. "Wait."

"Yeah?" Steve asks as Eddie's eyes practically glaze over in panic.

Eddie's chest heaves for a second before he says, "Fuck, you bought it because you thought I'm hot not because... fuck." He looks away from Steve and stares down at the magazine as if it personally offended him.

"Huh?" Steve asks, knees starting to ache on the hardwood floor. He climbs off of Eddie with a groan, but Eddie must take it wrong because he almost immediately stands up.

"Sorry, it's stupid," Eddie says with a humorless laugh. "Hey, do you think Buckley will be upset if I take her bed for the night? It's been a long day, and I'm about ready to clonk out."

Steve can feel his face morph into an expression of bewilderment. "Eddie, what?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Yeah, you're right. Dumb idea. Robin would kill me. I'll take the couch like usual."

Steve carefully stands and steps into Eddie's space, but Eddie sidesteps him easily. He watches as he flops down on the couch, refusing to look at him.

Steve's eyes settle back on the magazine, reaching down to grab it to find whatever the hell is in that interview.

"Steve, please don't."

Steve ignores Eddie the same way he ignored him, opening the magazine to the same page his eyes have landed on several times before. His eyes settle on the image of Eddie before moving to the words, skimming before he finds his own name staring back at him. He backtracks, looking at the question and answer.

Do you guys have any sources of inspiration?

Jeff: Oh, Eddie sure does.

Frank: He has what you might call a muse back at home.

Eddie: Please shut up.

Gareth: A beautiful muse with the most beautiful hair you've ever seen.

Eddie: Please stop talking about Stevie.

Jeff: He's just shy when it comes to his little crush.

Eddie: Next question, please.

Steve glances up at Eddie who sits red-faced on the couch. He clears his throat. "They told me they would cut it out entirely, but then they reached out later saying it was too good not to publish, but they did me the favor of changing your name to something more feminine so they didn't out me. Still fucked though. I'm sorry you got pulled into this mess."

Steve looks back at the magazine and then at Eddie. "Is it true?"

Eddie groans and lays back on the couch dramatically. "Please don't make me answer that. I've gotten enough shit from the guys, and I know you don't feel that way about me. It's okay that you only find me hot, I'll take what I can."

It hits Steve all at once what Eddie's sudden dramatics are about. "Oh my god. Eddie, I like you, too!"

Eddie's head pops up. "What?"

Steve turns the magazine to him and points at the picture of Eddie laughing. "This is what I've been so flustered and weird about. Yes, the front cover made me realize that, hey, I find you really attractive. But I've been staring at this picture for way longer, and I didn't know why until you got here tonight. And it hit me that I like you. I think I have for a long time, but I just didn't connect the dots before."

"You like me?" Eddie echos, dumbfounded.

Steve laughs. "Yes, I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't have feelings for you."

"That's a fucking relief," Eddie says, scrambling off the couch and racing to pull Steve into another kiss.

Steve smiles into the kiss, pulling Eddie as close to him as possible as Eddie attempts to do the same.

"I'm going to give that photographer the biggest tip ever," Eddie says breaking the kiss for a moment only to kiss him again.

Steve smiles so wide that he can barely kiss Eddie back. When they break away, Steve says, "I'm going to have to buy another."

"Why?"

"I have to get the front picture and the interview framed," Steve says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course," Eddie says with a laugh before wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too," Steve replies.

They hold each other for a while, not willing to break the moment until a sudden thought has Steve groaning.

"What?" Eddie asks, pulling back to look at him.

"Robin was right."

Eddie smiles. "When is she not?"

"Never," Steve answers simply.

They stand in each other's arms just happy to be so close, taking each other in as if it's for the first time. Steve wonders what to tell the Wednesday regulars and how they'd respond if he introduced Eddie to them. He thinks back to Lisa's comments about how the group should just date each other and how Sarah had responded with a little too much enthusiasm, and Steve thinks things will be just fine.

"What are you thinking about?"

Steve shakes his head with a smile. "What are you doing this Wednesday?" he asks, making a mental note to add two frames, another magazine, and Robin's favorite ice cream to the list.

"Anything you want," Eddie replies easily.

And with that, Steve finds himself looking forward to his Wednesday afternoon even more than usual.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #robin buckley

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brucewaynehater101 · 5 months

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Imagine Tim holding Brucequest over the Justice League & even Dick & Jason's heads 💀💀💀💀

Heck Tim holding the Timestream incident over Bruce's head because Tim was the only person to actually do anything to save him

((Damian gets a pass because 1. He's a KID whose cult leading gramps was involved, how about No?))

((And 2. The priority for him at the time should have been unlearning the cult teachings of the LOA))

((and also all his other siblings. Alfred too since he has a job dammit))

Tw: Violence

I love petty Tim Drake so much. He deserves to be able to hold his trauma over the people who caused it.

Jason takes the last cookie? "You might as well take me back to Titan's Tower and slit my throat again."

Dick tells Tim he needs to go to bed? "Oh. I see how it is. I thought we talked about you questioning my judgements again, but I see I was wrong."

Alfred lectures Tim about his health? "Now you're concerned about my health? You should have thought about that before putting my mental health in peril for my sixteenth birthday."

Bruce is concerned with Tim's workload? "Maybe the next time you want me to take on less work you'll write a fucking letter instead of spreading vague clues no one else believes is actually from you."

As for Damian? They exchange verbal barbs for fun and take notes from each other. It confuses the hell out of the others because do they hate each other, or are they bonding?

Steph and Tim like to get into screaming fights with each other in public. It's never about their actual fights, but they like how Gotham reacts to it (bonus points if they end up in the news).

Tim and Babs try to sabotage each other's unimportant technology. That fifth tablet Babs hardly uses? Bam! Tim's made it so it plays music whenever it's on and the music can't be turned off.

Cass and Tim just make faces at each other. Bruce has been confused as hell when one of them randomly shouts in outrage due to the other twitching their eyelids wrong.

Tim likes confusing and horrifying Duke by telling him fun facts about the family. He'll tell them in the most damning way to watch the chaos. "The scar on Jason's neck is from Bruce choosing the Joker over Jason."

And that is Tim taking it easy on the Bats because he loves and cares about them (and because it's funny).

The JL?

Red Robin terrifies all of the members who doubted him. The terror doubles when they see him happily chatting with YJ or the Bats. The version of Tim the JL gets is a scarily competent and cold persona. They thought he lost the ability to smile until Red Hood (and who let a crime lord into the Watchtower???) grabbed Red Robin a peace offering Zesti.

#dc comics #dc universe #tim drake #let tim be petty #unhinged tim drake #thank you for the ask!!!!#jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #cass wayne #steph brown #duke thomas #the bats are the furthest thing from a functional family

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serpentandlily · 1 year

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Untouchable II - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

a/n: Thank you all so much for all the love on the first part of this story! If you want to be added to the tag list, either comment or message or send me an ask :)

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part II

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The minute you guys winnowed into the foyer of the River House, you were nearly tackled to the ground by your own brother. He spun you in a circle, greeting you as if you’d just come back from a war or something. You couldn’t help but giggle at his huge overreaction.

“You act like I’ve been gone for years,” you laughed.

“It felt like it,” he replied, giving you what you assumed was his best impression of a sad puppy dog—an odd sight to see on such a powerful High Lord.

He had barely set you down when you were scooped up into someone else’s arms. Luckily Cassian wasn’t as dramatic as your brother. He pulled away to hold you at arm's length, taking a sweeping glance down your body.

“You’ve lost some muscle mass and what is this you’re wearing,” he chided in a teasing, affectionate tone. “Are you even still part of the night court, y/n?”

A scoff sounded from behind the General and you peeked over his shoulder to see Azriel standing there, his arms crossed. “She’s only been gone for three months.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him and you quickly pulled your eyes away, ignoring the strain in your chest. You jokingly shoved Cassian away from you. “I’m gone for three months and the first thing you say to me is that I’ve lost muscle? Can take the boy out of Illyria but not Illyria out of the boy.”

“Damn right,” Cassian said proudly as you stepped around him, finding the rest of your family lounging about in the sitting room. “Besides, do my letters to you not count as talking?”

You rolled your eyes before giving Azriel a smile. He dipped his head in greeting, his eyes trailing over your form, but made no move to embrace you like the other two.

“You wrote letters to Cass and Rhys,” he said. “But not to me? I thought I was your favorite.”

“Rhys demanded I write to him. And Cass wrote to me first.” You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

A muscle ticked in his jaw when he met your eyes again but he said nothing else so you brushed past him, squeezing him on the shoulder as you did, determined to not let his presence squander the confidence you had built up these past months.

As soon as you stepped into the sitting room, a baby was pushed into your arms. You smiled at Feyre, pressing a kiss to her cheek in greeting and happily accepting to hold Nyx, your nephew. “It’s good to see you, y/n. Being on the continent has done you wonders. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, I’ve been immensely enjoying my time there. But I missed you too, Fey,” you replied with a wink before hoisting the baby further up in your arms to snuggle against his head. “And Gods, I missed you, little one.”

“He missed you too, you know.” You looked up at Rhys who was leaning against the back of the chair Feyre had plopped down in. “You’re the only one who knows how to make him laugh when he’s in one of his moods.”

You saw his words for what they truly were - ammunition. A way to guilt you to stay. The sad part was it kind of worked. If there was anyone you’d drop everything for, it was your nephew. “I think you guys did just fine without me.”

“Some of us did,” Amren piped up. “Others wouldn’t shut up about you. ‘What do you think y/n is doing right now?’ ‘When do you think she is going to come home?’ ‘Send me to the continent to check on y/n.’” She mocked, glaring at your brother. But then her glare shifted to the shadowsinger who gave her an unamused look. Your cheeks turned pink. Had she been including Azriel in that…

“I’m glad you’re finally spreading those wings, girl. It’s about time,” Amren continued, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Anyways,” Mor cut in. “Are you going to tell us what is so important that you dragged me and your sister back for?”

“I will, during our family dinner,” Rhys said. “We’re still waiting for Lucien.”

You couldn’t help but glance at Elain, who looked just about as uncomfortable as you did. It wasn’t that you specifically had anything against the fox. But he had been the close companion of the male who was the reason your mother was dead, the reason you had almost lost your wings and your life that fateful night. It made it hard to be around him without thinking of Tamlin, which brought back those painful memories.

Conversation turned normal after that and you tried to keep your eyes away from the shadowsinger. Instead you listened to Cassian and Nesta talk about the improvements the Valkyries had made in the three months you were gone. You promised Cass that you’d go to training with them tomorrow morning.

Lucien finally showed up and the small party was moved to the dining room. You took a seat next to Cassian and your heart nearly froze as you watched the redhead enter and make his way towards the empty chair next to you. You clenched your skirt in your fist but before he could take it, Azriel cut in front of him and claimed the chair as his.

You gave him a small, grateful smile. He nodded and you turned away as Elain sat down next to him. Great. Perfect. Now you’d have to listen to them all night. Perhaps the fox would’ve been a better choice.

Dinner was served and you poked at your food. Your proximity to the shadowsinger made your appetite minimal. You leaned your head against Cass’s shoulder, taking comfort in him. Cassian had always felt like a second big brother to you. And he treated you as such.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured to you, stacking more food on your plate. “You’ve got to eat if you’re going to come train with us tomorrow.”

Nesta rolled her eyes from next to him and you covered your grin. You were about to reply when Rhys stood. The room quieted when he cleared his throat. “Feyre and I have invited you here tonight for a reason. Would you like to do the honors, darling?” He tilted his head to her and she stood, smiling.

You couldn’t help but melt at the sight of your brother and his mate. You were so happy he finally had the life he deserved. Feyre placed her tattooed hand on her stomach and your eyes widened, a gasp escaping your mouth as you realized what this announcement was.

“I’m pregnant again,” she said, pure happiness in her voice. “With a little baby girl.”

Cheers and shouts erupted around the room but you were the first to jump up and hug Feyre. You couldn’t stop smiling as you let her go to be embraced by the others, taking your brother in your arms instead.

“Congratulations,” you whispered in his ear. “I’m so happy for you, Rhysie.”

“I can’t believe it,” he muttered back. “Another baby. In less than two years.”

You felt claws scrape against your mental shield.

We’re going to name her after mother. We’ve already discussed it.

You pulled back with shock, looking up into his eyes to make sure he was telling the truth. Tears lined his eyes as he nodded at you. A small cry broke from your lip as you hugged him again. When you finally composed yourself, you let him go so the others could have their turn with him. You stood off to the side, wiping your tears.

You were so distracted that you didn’t even notice the male who fell into place next to you. “Are you alright?”

You looked up at Azriel who was watching you with concern in those beautiful hazel eyes. You nodded, clearing your throat. “They’re going to name her after our mother. After Selene.”

Azriel’s eyes widened and then he glanced at your brother, a small smile on his lips. You know how much Azriel and Cassian had loved your mother too. Had felt the loss of her all the same. You sucked in a breath and wiped away any lingering tears.

Azriel looked back down at you, his eyes searching your face. Part of you wanted to use your daemati gifts, to take a peek inside his head, to see what he was thinking. But you would never cross that line.

“You’ve got make-up,” he said, gesturing towards your face. “Here.”

You went to wipe it but he grabbed your hand. “Let me.”

He conjured a cloth napkin in his hand and gripped your chin with his other gloved hand, tilting your face up at him. Your eyes widened at his touch and you froze in place, your breath caught in your throat. He dapped at a spot on your check, just below your eye.

You hated the effect he had on you. How his scent wrapped around you, his mere presence clouding your mind. Hated how you wished to step closer to him. This wasn’t the first time he had done something as intimate as this with you but those moments were far and few between.

He was surprisingly gentle as he wiped at your face, his hand never leaving your chin even as his other fell back to his side. He stared down at you with an indiscernible emotion and your eyes bounced between his. Part of you wished this small moment would never end. But wishing and praying had never done you any good and the moment was over before you knew it.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Elain had made her way over to you and Azriel dropped his grip on you like your skin had burned him. You swallowed harshly, looking at the girl who had captured his heart in the short time she had been here.

“I’m okay, Elain,” you replied with a little dip of your head. “Just a bit emotional is all.”

She smiled at you and you wished more than anything that you could hate her. But you couldn’t. She had only ever been sweet to you. Only ever wanted to be your friend. “I can’t believe we’re about to have another baby around here. You’ll have to help me set up the nursery for Feyre again, y/n!”

“Of course!”

Elain’s hand rested on Azriel’s bicep and the sight made the dinner you had just eaten churn in your stomach. You needed to get away from them. It hadn’t been long enough. You hadn’t been away long enough to get rid of these stupid feelings. You glanced back at Azriel to find him still looking at you. You mustered up the will to give them a parting smile before dipping away.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Feyre and Rhysand had called it a night after some time celebrating but Mor had declared the night wasn’t over. At least not for you two. You hadn’t hesitated to agree to go to Rita’s—ready to let loose after having to deal with the heartache of being near Azriel and Elain.

Cassian and Nesta decided to come as well. And then to everyone’s surprise, Azriel had also said he’d come which made Elain shyly say she’d come as well. Just when you’d thought you’d have a moment of relief, the Mother had decided to spite you again. Perhaps she was just trying to drill home the point that Azriel would never be yours.

Mor passed you another shot glass and you chugged it before even asking what was in it. All you knew was you wanted to be drunk—and fast. You were squeezed between Nesta and Mor in the large booth your group occupied.

Your eyes flicked to the other side of the table. Azriel and Elain sat there, both sipping on their drinks. Neither of them looked comfortable and you wondered why they even bothered to come.

“I wanna dance,” you slurred, pouting at Mor. You shoved at your cousin to let you out of the booth and she chuckled, moving out of the way.

“Take Mor with you, sweetheart.”

Nesta elbowed Cassian in his side. “She’s not a little girl, Cass.”

“She’s fine on her own,” Mor bit, backing up Nesta. “Besides, we can still see her from here.”

You missed the disapproving glare Azriel threw at Mor who rolled her eyes at him. The alcohol had finally taken effect, making you feel carefree. You let the music take over as you pushed your way into the dancing crowd.

For once you basked in the attention you were receiving and when you felt large hands wrap around your waist from behind, you didn’t falter like you might’ve before. You glanced up to see a high fae male smirking down at you. He was handsome with brown eyes and shaggy blonde hair.

You gave him your family’s signature feline grin and decided to just go with it—anything to get the shadowsinger out of your mind.

“Don’t,” Mor growled at Azriel as he went to stand up, his eyes locked on you and the male. Cassian watched with an annoyed frown. “Let her have fun. She knows how to handle herself.”

You were oblivious to the two disgruntled bats at the table though. A few more songs passed before the male grabbed your hand and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Come. Let me buy you a drink.”

You smiled and let him drag you to the bar. His hand slid to your lower back as you watched him place an order for both of you. He turned to hand you the drink the bartender made and his eyes widened as he looked at something over your shoulder.

Your brows furrowed until that familiar scent hit you.

“Leave us,” Azriel growled at him from behind you.

The male glanced between the two of you. “Sorry, I didn’t know she was here with someone.”

“I’m not here with him.” You crossed your arms, annoyed. The male’s eyebrow quirked up in amusement, looking back at Azriel.

“Well, it seems like the lady doesn’t want you here, pal,” he said. “So why don’t you leave us?”

A sliver of fear crossed his eyes as Azriel took a step forward, his hard chest pressing into your back. “Get lost,” he snarled, his voice pure ice. “Now.”

Your mouth dropped open as the male scurried off this time, evidently not wanting a confrontation with the shadowsinger. You whirled around to see Azriel glaring down at you. You pushed him away with a hand to his chest.

“What is your problem?!”

“My problem?” he snapped back at you. “That male was clearly going to take advantage of you. You should be thanking me for scaring him off.”

“Why the hell should I thank you! He wasn’t taking advantage of me. I wanted to be with that guy.”

“And he probably just wanted to use you to get close to Rhys for power or money—who knows.”

You felt a dagger pierce your heart at his words, at his unflinching cold stare. “Right. Because no one would ever want me for anything else. No one might ever just be interested in me and not my connection to Rhys.”

“Oh don’t be naive, y/n,” Azriel said, coldly. Your mouth dropped open, tears started building in your eyes at his cruelty. But then anger finally started to rise, overpowering the hurt.

“Just because you don’t desire me like that, doesn’t mean other males don’t as well! I am not a child anymore, Azriel. I know exactly what males want from me and I also know what I want from them. So do me a favor and leave me alone.”

You chugged the drink in your hand before slamming the glass on the counter.

“Y/n, that’s not what I—”

You turned away, not wanting to hear anything else he said. You couldn’t bear anymore hurt. All you wanted to do was go somewhere else. Somewhere he wasn't so you could unleash the tears stinging your eyes.

His cold hand grabbed your wrist and whirled you back around. “This conversation isn’t over,” he bit out but you shrugged yourself out of his grip.

“Yes it is,” you ground out through your teeth. “In fact, instead of sticking your nose in my business, why don’t you worry about your girlfriend’s.”

“My what—”

Azriel turned his head to follow your line of sight back to the booth you had all been sitting at before. Elain sat there alone, Mor likely dancing and Nesta and Cassian probably off making out somewhere. Some guy was leaning against the table talking to Elain, who looked incredibly uncomfortable.

You didn’t wait to hear Azriel’s response, using the distraction to storm off and disappear in the crowd—your first night had officially been ruined.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The last place you wanted to be today was the House of Wind, but you had promised Cassian and Nesta you’d show up for Valkyrie training and you knew one of them would come looking for you if you hadn’t. You could feel Azriel’s eyes on you from across the training ring but ignored him, keeping your focus on Cass.

“Alright,” Cass said, clapping his hands together. He had just led you guys through a series of exercises and you could already feel some sweat dripping down your back. “Let’s move on to sparring. Pair up and get started. Y/n, you’re with me today! Got to get you back up to speed.”

You made your way to Cassian but were intercepted by Azriel stepping in between you two. “I’ll take over her training. The new girls need more help.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow at him but shrugged and walked off, leaving you alone with the shadowsinger. You clenched your fists, not at all happy with having to work with Azriel today when you wanted to avoid him. You were still upset with the way he talked to you last night.

“Come,” he barked, not even looking at you. “We’ll take the back corner.”

He strode off without even making sure you were following. You let out a puff of air. Great, he was in that sort of mood.

As soon as you were within range, he tossed you a training sword. You barely caught it, taken off guard.

“Let’s see how much you’ve regressed while galavanting on the continent.” His tone was cold, clearly as upset with you as you were with him. Before you could even get into a starting position, he came at you. You let out a startled noise, blocking his attack.

You narrowed your eyes at him. Fine, if this was how he wanted to play, you weren’t going to be the one to back down.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You could barely catch your breath, evading another one of his attacks. Class had already wrapped up, most Priestesses packing up their things to go back to the library. But Azriel hadn’t let up one bit.

“Class is over, Az,” you panted, side stepping another attack. “Can we stop?”

“Class is over when I say it is,” he growled at you. He lifted his sword above his head and came down with an overhead attack. You had to roll out of the way to avoid it.

“What’s gotten into you?” You snapped, putting some distance between you and him, trying to steady yourself. Azriel had never treated you like this before.

“You’re the one who declared you’re not a child anymore last night,” he snapped back at you. “So I’m not treating you like one. Suck it up, princess, and either disarm me or surrender.”

You gritted your teeth together, annoyed that he was acting like such a prick. Why the hell was he so upset with you? You had done nothing to him.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Shut up and fight me,” he growled. “Or surrender and go back to being coddled by your brother like always.”

Fury sparked a fire in your gut. Since when did you ever ask to be coddled by Rhys? He had been the one that was overprotective, to the point of being paranoid. All you ever did was try to be the person your brother expected you to be, to not have him worry over you. You attacked him this time but he was quick to parry. You felt frustrated tears start to build in your eyes.

“Oh don’t start crying now,” Azriel snarled. “You asked for this.”

“I never asked for anything from you!” You could hardly keep your sword in your hand, your body shaking from the anger you felt.

“Because your brother caters to your every need.” He spat out the word brother like it was a curse and that only fueled the fire building in you. “He gives you everything you want, takes care of you, and still you decide to go run off to the continent, causing him to constantly worry about you.”

“Fuck you,” you snapped. “And keep my brother out of this. You know nothing about our relationship!”

He maneuvered behind you, using his free arm to wrap around your neck and pull you flush against his body. You were both panting, both sweating. You could faintly hear Cassian yelling at you guys to stop but you ignored him, too lost in your own anger.

Azriel leaned down, his breath dancing against your ear. “I know you’re just a burden to him. Just another responsibility that fell on his shoulders.”

The breath was expelled from your lungs, your stomach twisted into a knot. A burden? Is that how Rhys truly saw you? Just something he was being forced to take care of?

You elbowed Azriel in the stomach and kicked him in the chest away from you. He slid to a stop in the sand but then came back twice as hard. You tried to evade, tried to parry his attacks, but it was no use. You were not close to being the warrior Azriel was.

A knock to your wrist had your sword flying from you hand and you fell on your backside, scooting away from him. He didn’t seem to notice he had unarmed you and raised his sword to slash at you again. You let out a whimper of fear and lifted your hands up to block your face.

The sword sliced down the middle of your palm and you let out a pained cry. Azriel immediately froze, towering over your much smaller form on the ground. His eyes widened, the sword slipped out of his hand and suddenly Cassian was in between you two, his wings flaring out to block you as he shoved Azriel in the chest—hard.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Cassian screamed at him. He shoved him again but Azriel paid him no mind, his eyes stuck on you still sitting on the floor, now cradling your hand to your chest as blood dripped down your skin.

“Y/n…” Your name came from his lips, pure anguish in his voice as he stared at you in horror, as if now realizing he had gone way too far. You scrambled to your feet, fighting to rein in your tears.

Azriel stepped towards you but Cassian grabbed him by the shoulder roughly. “No, leave her alone. Why don’t you tell me what the hell that was?!”

Nesta was glancing between you and Azriel in shock and when she started to make her way towards you, you magick your wings, unfurled them, and took off into the sky as agony ripped through you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You had hoped to make it to your bedroom before running into anyone, but as per usual, the Mother decided to spite you. You nearly crashed into Rhys as you hurried down the hall. He caught you by your shoulders, his nostrils flaring as he smelt blood, before he looked down at you in surprise.

"Are you okay?" he asked before taking in the tears still pouring down your face. "Y/n, what happened? Why are you hurt?"

"It's nothing," you mumbled, trying to skirt around him but he yanked you into his office.

"It's not nothing," he said through clenched teeth, "You're bleeding and crying. Who hurt you?"

"It was just an accident during training this morning. I'm fine."

"Dove, please, I've seen you hurt worse than this and you never shed a tear then," he said, stroking your hair. "What happened?"

You couldn't hold it in anymore, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. "Am...am I a b-burden to you?"

"What?" he gasped in surprise. "Where did you get that idea?"

You shook your head, sniffling. Rhys sighed and pulled you into a hug. "Dove, you are not a burden to me. I don't know why you'd ever think that. I love you so much, too much perhaps. If anything, I'm the one who's burdened you with my incessant worrying."

You wished you felt relief but it just made you cry even more. Your brother continued to stroke your hair, holding you close. "Who caused you to think that?"

"No one," you mumbled into his chest. "It's nothing. I just thought—I don't know."

Rhys pulled back to hold you at arm's length. You tried to avoid eye contact with him but he gripped your chin and forced you to look up at him. Anger was swirling in his eyes. "Tell me who hurt you. Tell me who caused this."

You shook your head, not wanting to cause a fight between your brother and Azriel. His eyes glazed over for a second and you knew he was communicating with someone in his head. You felt yourself tense up. When his focus came back to you, that anger had grown into rage. You knew he had probably asked Cassian what happened at training and you cursed at the General for snitching.

He stepped around you and stalked towards the door just as Feyre entered his office. She gasped in surprise as she caught sight of the two of you. "Gods, what happened?"

Rhys brushed past her. "Stay here with her."

Feyre's eyebrows narrowed in confusion. "Rhys, what's going on? Where are you going?"

He glanced at her over her shoulder, his teeth bared in a snarl. "I'm going to go kick Azriel's ass."

And then he disappeared in a swirl of darkness.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Tag List: @kalulakunundrum @going-through-shit @thelov3lybookworm @tinystarfishgalaxy @cat-or-kitten @abysshaven @vhjlucky13 @polli05927 @nightcourtwritings @wicked-mind @mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

#acotar #azriel #fanfic #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x female!reader #azriel x oc #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #shadowsinger x reader #angst #azriel fic

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really-fanny-longbottom · 15 days

Text

Only In My Dreams [Part Three]

Summary: The beginning of the end.

Warnings: Mentions of death, violence, abuse and burns (not too descriptive)

Words: 8.9k

A feeling of numbness began to invade you from the top of your head to your toes.

As you closed your eyes and calmed your breathing, you felt your shattered heart one last time before focusing on your emotions and feelings and bringing them to the surface.

Realizing that it was impossible to reach all of them, you focused on those whose presence had become a habit and which had begun to suffocate you day after day.

Jealousy - upon seeing that Azriel's courtships were not intended for you.

Pain - realizing that the Spymaster eye's weren't looking for you the way yours did for him.

Insecurity - thinking that you will never be enough for the Shadowsinger that occupied your thoughts.

Sadness - understanding that you will never find yourself in the arms of the person you most want to hold you.

Broken heart - when you realize that the male you love will never love you back.

You let them emerge, and when they did, you let them swim back and forth as you dug your way through them looking for that little switch.

The switch that was about to solve all your problems. In a few moments, it would mend your heart and bind it with a steel chain around it, to prevent it from breaking again - from feeling again.

After digging your way for a few more seconds, the switch came into your reach and as you headed towards it, you noticed the darkness that surrounded it.

The darkness that would invade your veins and corrupt your heart - the price to pay.

By reaching for the switch with an invisible hand, you let the happy memories with your friends replay in your mind, granting one last wish to your aching heart.

It was while reliving those memories that you were hesitant about what you were about to do, seeing the good times you had spent with the friends that had become your family.

Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie, Rhys, Cass, Feyre, Mor and Amren - all their faces appeared in turns bringing a slight smile and a feeling of comfort.

But it shattered when the image of Azriel and Elain holding hands and exchanging smiles invaded your mind without permission.

You would never be her and he would never look at you that way.

That was your breaking point.

You wouldn't continue to suffer for a male who didn't even dedicate a second of his time to acknowledge you.

And just like the snap of a finger, the hesitation disappeared, anger replacing it, making the invisible hand reach out and finally complete its task.

With a simple click...

You turned it off.

And become darkness.

A storm was heading towards Prythian.

Black clouds haunted the sky, an immense darkness hid behind them, preparing to release its confined monsters at the right moment.

The Courts were dominated by gray — a consequence of the storm that was about to break.

The trees had lost their color; the flowers and food planted in the gardens stopped growing; the water in the rivers and seas was still, with no wave being formed; the animals had fled and a crushing cold forced every inhabitant to stay at home.

The sun was nowhere to be found.

With no explanation from the High Lords for what was happening, the inhabitants were left at their mercy to conjure one.

'This is the work of witches,' some said.

'Prythian is dying. It's the end of the world,' said others.

But the rumor that most circulated among the Courts? The rumor that many believed but were too afraid to say out loud? The rumor that due to fear was whispered between ears or past written in letters?

Someone had disturbed a powerful being, and this was the result of their wrath.

Now, Prythian was condemned to face their punishment.

The entire extension of Prythian seemed cursed, but no Court was worse than the Night Court.

Mainly Velaris.

All eyes that fell on the city would only take a second to identify it as the epicenter of the storm.

After all, that was where the 'curse' itself began.

Velaris was paused in time.

Flying over what was once vibrant and full of life, Velaris, Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys continued their search.

They flew through the empty streets, past the closed shops, with no sign that anyone lived there.

If the males didn't have the age they have, they would never have believed that this had once been the City of Starlight.

It all started four weeks ago.

Four weeks since Madja's drastic revelation about you.

Four weeks since the last time any of them had seen you.

You had disappeared without leaving any kind of trace.

While Amren, Nesta, and Feyre read all the books Helion had lent them about rare powers, Mor on the Continent trying to find someone who knew more about empaths, the males were tasked with finding you.

The brothers had already flown over the entire Night Court to try to find any trace of you - but without success.

It was as if you had simply evaporated.

They went as far as contacting Eris to find out if the Heir knew anything about you.

Although they didn't get any information regarding you, the males ended up discovering that Eris himself was looking for you.

Apparently, your news powers had reached the ears of Beron, awakening his interest in you.

Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time Beron had been interested in you.

News in Prythian never took long to reach all the Courts.

When the first rumor about an empath in Prythian emerged, all the High Lords were agitated, especially when that same empath was one of the members of Rhysand's Inner Circle.

Empaths were very rare, with only two recorded in the last twenty thousand years, so the extent of their powers and capabilities remained a mystery.

Rhysand had to set up a meeting and introduce you to the High Lords personally to prove you weren't a threat.

And you weren't. The High Lords saw firsthand what a caring, kind, and gentle person you were.

They saw your abilities as a healer and the purity in your eyes.

You were the epitome of kindness.

There was no reason to fear you.

Until now.

They could barely believe what you had become. It was as if the girl they had met decades ago had never existed.

As if it had been nothing more than a dream.

Helion was the first to find out about your situation when Rhysand came to him.

Rhysand will never forget how Helion said you must have suffered too much and too long in silence to be able to become what you became.

The warning that followed still haunted the male in his sleep 'Do not underestimate her, Rhysand. It's innocent and pure people like Y/N who can find the deepest darkness within themselves when motivated to do so. She may not have been a threat before, but she certainly is now.'

The truth that no one wanted to admit was that they were scared of you.

Scared of your new powers and what you would be able to do with them.

And now Beron was looking for you.

You were never a violent or aggressive person. In fact, in all the years since you joined the Inner Circle, they had never even seen you raise your voice.

But now...with your emotions turned off, and your powers, if Beron finds you and you feel threatened...

They weren't sure that Beron would come out alive from that confrontation.

They didn't know how far you would go to protect yourself, but there was one thing they knew: they needed to find you quickly.

On a distant illyrian mountain, in an unpopulated zone, an abandoned cabin had been improvised as a laboratory.

The cabin contained only three rooms: a bedroom, a bathroom, and a living room/kitchen.

This last room was the largest of the three, but due to all the tables that filled it, it gave the impression of being the smallest.

On the tables against the walls were various dried plants and flowers — in other words, dead.

You were sitting on a wooden stool in front of one of the tables in the center — that one was loaded with green plants and flowers with colors ranging from blue, red, and yellow.

Your eyes studied a sunflower while your hands surrounded it with a darkness they emitted.

You watched as the poison began to spread through it from the root to its petals — how it began to lose its color and wither with each passing second.

This has been your occupation for the last four weeks.

Ever since you discovered your new powers, you have dedicated yourself to learning about them.

All those sleepless nights, the days with little food in your stomach, the headaches, and the hours you spent sitting had been rewarded.

You could poison a entire plant or in a specific place of your choice, it could spread quickly or slowly, it could be deadly immediately or last for hours, you could remove the poison and bring the plant to its original state.

But the most interesting part? You had accidentally discovered during one of your experiments a few days ago that even after its death, you were able to control it.

That's what you had spent the last few days working on.

You believed this was the final step to achieving your full power.

You watched closely as the flower reached its final stage. You could feel its vitality fading away at your fingertips.

With one last movement of your hand, the flower reached its end.

Letting a few seconds pass, you took the opportunity to readjust yourself on the bench and stretch a little. You felt the muscles in your arms and back relax instantly.

You didn't know how long you had been sitting here working on the flower, but when you looked out the window and saw the light of a new day outside, you realized that a few hours had passed.

With your eyes finding the flower once more, you ignored the headache that was beginning to form on the right side of it, you had had many lately preceded by a bad night's sleep because of the nightmares that had invaded your mind for almost two weeks.

You had never had nightmares before, and these were mysterious. You couldn't understand them no matter how hard you tried.

You let go of that thought, pushing it deep into the back of your mind, and focused your attention on the task at hand and extended your hands towards the flower.

This was the moment of truth.

Slowly, with each rotation of your wrist, the flower started moving.

A big smile appeared on your face as you watched the flower move with the direction of your hands — following your lead.

Your attention shifted to your hands as you realized what was happening.

Your glow was changing color.

Transforming.

What used to be darkness was now a bright red.

The reach of your full power.

However, your moment of triumph was interrupted when your ears perked at the new sounds outside of the cabin.

Footsteps.

Several of them.

The cabin only had one entrance and one exit, and that was where the intruders were headed.

You knew exactly who they were. You knew they were looking for you. They had come very close to finding you the last time, forcing you to move.

Luckily for them, back then, your priority was learning your new powers, but this time? This time, you were irritated.

Your eyes didn’t leave the flower when the cabin door was kicked open and five Autumn soldiers burst into your small laboratory.

You had heard that Beron was looking for you, but you thought the male wouldn’t be stupid enough to send his soldiers to the Night Court — especially Illyria.

Apparently, you were mistaken.

The soldiers began shouting orders that you ignored.

Did Beron really think he could capture you? Use your powers as he pleased?

Without warning, the cabin door slammed shut, the hinges creaking.

The males' heads turned toward the sound faster than humanly possible, yet they dared not move when a melody followed — one that sounded like a lullaby.

With trembling hands and legs, the soldiers tried to maintain their composure as they turned in the opposite direction.

"Tell me," your voice rang out across the room, "Which one of you can winnow?"

There was a deadly tone in your voice, enough to send shivers down the males' spines and cause doubts in their beliefs.

Your voice was light, calm, and delicate like a siren's song luring its victims to their death.

In a matter of a second, regret settled in the eyes of the soldiers, too scared to even remember that they had been questioned.

When none of them responded, you moved just an inch on the stool, allowing the soldiers to see what you were doing.

Without making any noise or sudden movements, the males began to walk backwards slowly while they increased the strength with which they gripped their swords, their eyes still fixed on the scene they were witnessing — a dead flower being guided by the action of your hands that subjected it to what could only be described as the dance of death.

The noise of a soldier swallowing the lump in his throat reached your ears, the same one that made the wise decision in answering you. "All of us."

The small laugh you let out made them shrink.

"Well, that's perfect," you finally turned to them, "that way, I don't have to waste time guessing.”

Mouths dropped at the sight of you. The eyes that held nothing behind them, the long hair down to your waist, the simple long white dress you wore, your bare feet, and the smile that would scare away the bravest warriors.

Behind you, the flower continued to dance without ever stopping.

One of the soldiers gripped his sword tighter. “Wh...What...What's that supposed to mean?” his voice failed to hide the fear that was rising from him.

You stood up.

The soldiers backed away even more, their backs hitting the wall behind them.

"By the Cauldron..." one of them muttered.

Five too-fast heartbeats filled the silence of the room.

You smiled.

“I need you to deliver a message to Beron for me.”

The soldier, who was on the far left side, began to search for the doorknob at an unnatural speed.

The smell of fear was palpable in the air.

"Lucky for me that you all can winnow, but unlucky for you," you took another step, watching their faces change as they realized what was about to happen. "I only need one of you to deliver the message."

The last thing the soldiers saw was your eyes turning red before everything exploded.

Azriel didn't know how many hours he had been flying or how many laps he had already made over Velaris.

Lost in his thoughts, the male made the mistake of looking down.

He flew over a small, familiar house at the top of a street.

Inside the small house, there was an old healer with her face stained with tears and pain in her chest caused by a worrying heart.

The old healer was in the same position as the previous days. Sitting at the window in her living room, waiting for her beloved niece to return.

But with each passing day, Velaris grew grayer, taking a bit of the old female's hope with it.

Guilt struck his heart.

The last time he had seen Madja was five days ago.

Nuala and Cerridwen had prepared several casseroles to help the old female through what was the worst time of her life.

Feyre offered to take them, and Azriel and Cassian volunteered to help.

The Spymaster expected Madja to kick him out or release her anger on him, but she never did.

The healer welcomed him with open arms and prepared him some tea as thanks for his help. The suffering in her was visible; red eyes, low voice, bent posture, slumped shoulders, and several handkerchiefs soaked in tears on the living room table.

How could things have gotten to this point?

The promise Azriel made to himself flashed through his mind — he would bring you back into Madja's arms.

The movement of Cassian's wings broke his trance, and Azriel's eyes left the small house and resumed his flight.

Four weeks without any information.

The males even thought that you might have left the Night Court and gone to a different one.

But no wards had been passed, and they would know if anyone had passed them.

So wherever you were, you were still within the borders of their Court.

But where?

The brothers flew to meet each other, and when Rhys was preparing to speak, something happened.

A surge of power ripped through the Night Court with a red flash accompanying it.

The mountain and the ground shook, the water rattled, and somewhere, screams were torn from the throats of the citizens in their homes.

The males were sent straight to the ground, their wings and Illyrian strength not enough to keep them in the sky.

Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand had to protect their eyes from the intensity of the flash while trying to remain stable on a shaking ground and ignoring the overwhelming feeling they felt as the wave of power passed by the entire Court.

So many thoughts ran through their minds.

What was happening? Was Prythian being attacked? Were the girls okay?

After a few more seconds, the flash began to diminish until it disappeared completely, leaving only the remains of something red all over the sky.

The mountains and the ground regained their stability and the rivers their calm.

As they raised their heads, the brothers saw what appeared to be red powder falling from the sky and towards the ground.

Cassian was the first to pick up a small amount and rub it between his thumb and index finger, trying to decipher what it could be.

With no answers, Cassian turned his attention to the males sitting next to him, checking for injuries, and noticed that they were both doing the same to him.

After checking that both they and the city were okay, the three of them took to the skies, and their eyes immediately found the source of the wave of power — Illyria.

The Illyrians would never attack them. They could be brutish and arrogant, but they were not stupid, leaving only one possible explanation.

"Y/N." Azriel whispered.

"It's her," Rhys confirmed as he stretched out his hand, where remnants of the red flash landed on it.

Shock did not fail to appear on the males' faces. None of them mentioned what they had just witnessed, but all three knew.

Your power has grown.

You were stronger. More powerful.

Cassian broke the silence, if his brothers weren't going to talk, then he would "She knows," a silent agreement hovered between them, It was only a matter of time before you found out about your new powers.

"What do you think she's doing with it?" A bad feeling invaded them at the General's words.

Something big was about to happen.

They all knew it.

"We should go back." Rhysand ignored his brother's words — he wasn't prepared for this conversation.

"What?" Azriel protested, his wings beating faster with the anticipation of going to look for you. "We finally know where she is, and you want to give up?"

"No one's giving up, Az," Cassian placed his hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down, "but look around you. You just felt her power, and we've been flying for hours. We can't go to her like this."

Azriel removed his brother's hand from his shoulder, a bit harsher than he intended, but he couldn't stop the anger that filled every word of the scream he released next. "What, you think she's going to attack us?"

Cassian's wings lowered a little, and he didn't hide the look of defeat he felt nor the hurt it caused in his chest when he said what had to be said "I don't know."

Shock ran through the Shadowsinger's body, making him move away as if those words had burned him.

Cassian let out a small sigh before continuing, "That's not our Y/N, Az. We don't know what she's capable of, and we have to assume the worst-case scenario."

When Azriel tried to protest again, Rhys stopped him. "Cass is right. We'll be back in a few hours when we're recharged."

Azriel knew they were right, but the guilt that invaded him didn't let him rest so easily.

"Besides, we need to know if the girls are alright."

Azriel nodded. If Helion's words were truly true, if you now posed a threat, then they couldn't risk surprising you without being prepared.

That single thought hurt him more than a sword strike, but that was the new reality they faced.

The males resume their flights but with their destination being the House of Wind.

There was nothing they could do for now. All that was left for them was to wait.

Azriel looked back.

To the mountains where you were.

The mountains that hid you from him.

Or the mountains that protected him from you?

Eris Vanserra was having a long day, and there was no sign lurking that it was about to end.

As he walked through the halls of the Forest House, Eris let his mind wander to the meeting he had just left.

Beron had just made his alliance with Koschei and the mortal queen official, but that wasn't what bothered the young Heir.

His father had also told his council that his search for you was not over. Not even when the only soldier who had returned described word for word what had happened in Illyria.

The soldier's testimony did not have the same effect on the High Lord as it had on his council.

While the old males had shrunk in their seats at the description of your powers, Beron had moved closer as if to hear better.

A hand slammed down on the meeting table hard enough to stir the liquids in the crystal glasses that sat in front of each member.

"Speak, boy!" Beron demanded.

"She... She's different, High Lord. I've never seen anything like this before, not even with Hybern."

"Be specific! Do I look like someone who has the patience for riddles?"

"Death." The soldier said quietly, as if afraid that the walls might have ears.

Beron stood up from his seat at the revelation, curiosity gnawing at his body. Eris leaned back from his chair and gripped the arms of the chair in an attempt to soften the shock that this news had caused him, while Beron's council struggled to regain color in their faces.

"She looked like Death." The soldier finished before being dismissed.

When the door to the meeting room closed, the council erupted in screams.

The males of the council tried to dissuade Beron from his search for you but without success, as was to be expected.

His greed grew, as did his hunger for power. Now knowing what you were capable of, his desire to find you was now even greater, with the several soldiers who had left the Autumn Court with orders to find you as soon as the meeting ended as proof.

That was what bothered him. Not the change in your powers, not what happened with the soldiers — his soldiers — but your well-being.

But why?

He was beginning to think he had lost his mind.

Eris had even made the mistake of staying after the meeting ended to try to persuade his father to continue searching for you.

That had earned him the burn on his shoulder that he now bore.

What was going on with him?

Why hadn't you left his mind in these last few weeks?

His brain was telling him to ignore the situation and focus on the potential war with the Death God that was becoming more real with each passing day.

But his heart... his heart was telling him to write a letter to Rhysand asking about you. To know if they had found you yet or if they had any clues about you.

Anything to comfort him.

Little did he know that this would not be necessary because when he opened the double brown doors that led to his room, his eyes met those that appeared in his dreams.

There you were — sitting on his bed with one leg over the other in what looked like a tight black dress.

A smile formed on your lips as you stared at the male in front of you. "Did you miss me?"

"That was Y/N?" Nesta's voice was so low that if Cassian hadn't been right in front of her, he probably wouldn't have heard her.

"Yes." Cassian confessed to her as he witnessed the pain appearing in his mate's eyes.

Cassian didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her.

This situation was difficult for everyone, but the General knew it was especially so for the female he was trying to comfort.

Your relationship with Nesta was different from everyone else's. It had started out as rocky as a bad day, but just as bad days never last forever, neither did your beginning.

Before you knew it, you and Nesta were laughing together, exchanging books, walking arm in arm, and going almost everywhere together.

You had become sisters.

And the thought of losing you caused her more pain than she could have ever imagined.

As Nesta pulled away from her mate’s arms, she faced her brother-in-law.

“What’s the plan?” You had fought for Nesta, never backing down, never giving up, and now she was going to do the same for you.

Rhys’s eyes softened, and he squeezed Feyre’s hand tighter before answering, “Cass, Azriel, and I are going to Illyria, see if we can find out where she’s hiding.”

Nesta nodded, but before she could speak, a voice interrupted her.

“How will you know where to go?” Elain asked.

“We’ll follow the trail of the power surge. That should be enough to tell us where it started.”

Elain nodded in understanding before her eyes flicked to Azriel.

The male was quick to look away, focusing on his brother.

"She might not be there anymore." Cassian pondered.

"Still, it's worth a try." Feyre spoke a few seconds later.

Rhys gave her a weak smile that didn't reach his eyes — Feyre mirrored it.

An awkward silence fell over the family.

These past few weeks had been the strangest they had ever experienced. Sometimes, it felt like it wasn't even real, but rather a never-ending nightmare — sometimes they had to pinch themselves to make sure they were awake, and this was actually happening.

"I'll go with you." Nesta broke the silence.

Cassian knew there was no point in arguing, so he just nodded, wrapping his arms around her.

Azriel nodded as well before turning to Feyre and asking the question everyone was eager to know the answers to.

"News from Mor?"

Feyre let out a long sigh before shaking her head.

"We received a letter earlier. She arrived in Rask three days ago but hasn't found anything yet. She says there's an old male who's experienced in rare powers, but it might not mean anything," Feyre let out another sigh, "she says she'll let us know when she finds something."

Every day, they waited anxiously for a letter from Mor. With hope fading by the day, they believed more and more that the answer lay on the Continent.

Azriel was interrupted from his thoughts by a gentle touch on his shoulder, and he turned to find the middle Archeron sister standing in front of him.

"Can we talk?" She asked softly.

Looking back and seeing the rest of his family chatting, Azriel nodded and followed Elain into the hallway.

When the female in the pink dress tried to touch his hand, he pulled away faster than her brain could process.

Azriel remained silent, letting Elain start a conversation he had no desire to have.

"What happened that night?"

His response ended up being a frown rather than words, so Elain continued.

"The night of our date. You never showed up at the restaurant," When Azriel stayed silent, she continued, "I know you went looking for her, Azriel. I heard Madja say you went to the clinic looking for Y/N. Why?"

Azriel had the answer, but it wasn’t with Elain that he wanted to share it.

And as if his brother had heard his thoughts, Rhys appeared in the hallway, telling Azriel it was time to go.

Azriel didn’t look back before following his brother and taking off.

Eris checked that no one was around his room before closing the doors.

The male leaned against the door for a few moments as if to make sure you were real.

"You're here."

Your smile widened. "I am."

Eris matched your smile and moved to sit on the wooden chair in front of the bed before undoing a few buttons on his shirt and moving to unbutton his boots.

"Did Beron get my message?"

"He did."

You watched him for a moment before speaking again. "So you know about my powers."

"I don't care about your powers." He was quick to respond.

"What about your soldiers?"

"They shouldn't have threatened you."

"But he keeps looking for me."

Eris continued to untie his boots as he confirmed your statement.

"I told him to stop but he wouldn't listen."

"Hmm," you slowly stood up before stopping in front of him, "is that how you got that burn?"

Eris's hands stopped immediately, and without moving much, he directed his gaze to the white shirt that had fallen down when he bent over, now revealing yet another of Beron's marks.

Eris sighed and stood up, leaning his back against the wood of the chair.

His golden eyes met yours and he didn't look away, not even when he considered what lie to tell.

"I saw your mother when I was coming here."

You moved closer.

"She was applying what I think was a cream to her bruises."

Eris closed his eyes. He had heard about the argument his parents had had a few days ago when he was away at meetings.

His mother hadn't told him anything but he had assumed how it had ended.

The Heir felt a weight on his legs and arms wrapping around his neck. When he dared to open his eyes, he found yours a few inches away.

"Do you want me to kill him?"

The question took him by surprise. No one had ever dared to say such words.

"Would you do it if I said yes?"

It was no secret that Eris dreamed of the day he would put an end to Beron's reign. One of his greatest goals was to free Autumn and his family from the clutches of that male.

"For you, yes."

Eris laughed and tilted his head back only to be grabbed by the chin by a hand smaller than his and meet your eyes again.

"I'm serious. Say the word and it will be done."

The owner of the golden eyes was lost for words. No one had ever cared about him like this.

Not knowing what to say, Eris brought your lips together.

You kissed him back almost immediately, adjusting yourself on his lap.

Eris broke the kiss just long enough to say, "I was worried about you."

You laughed into the kiss, responding with a quick, "I can take care of myself, prince."

Eris laughed back, "I know, but I missed you."

His response did something to your heart — something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

It would be a lie if you said you came here just to warn him about his father.

For some reason, this male made you feel things that shouldn't have been possible.

Your brain was telling you to pull away, to leave, but that thought was forgotten when your heart answered for you.

"Then show me how much you missed me."

And so he did.

Darkness. Silence.

Were the first two things you came across.

Total darkness surrounded you.

You couldn't make out what was around you. No matter how hard you tried to squint your eyes, they couldn't make out any kind of shape, not even a shadow.

No noise could be heard — wherever you were, silence dominated that place.

What was going on?

How did you end up here? What were you doing here?

"Hello?"

You didn't get any response back, which led you to assume that you were alone. Whether that was a good thing or not, you didn't know, but something told you that you were about to find out.

As you took a step forward, you stretched out your arms in the hope of finding a surface that you could use to guide yourself.

It took several steps until you found what seemed to be a wall. As you let your hands run along it, you realized that its surface was rocky and damp and that your footsteps echoed.

Always with one hand on the wall, you let yourself be guided to whatever was waiting for you on the other side.

Seconds.

Minutes.

Hours.

You didn't know how long you had been walking, your hand already cold from being pressed against the wall for so long.

Just when you were beginning to think that the darkness was endless and that you were lost or trapped, that there was no way out, something answered your worries.

A weak beam of light entered your field of vision, indicating the path to salvation.

In what seemed like a matter of survival, you ran towards the light that gradually grew brighter as you approached.

The moment the light became a little stronger, you realized that you were inside a cave when you saw the entrance.

When you finally left the cave, you saw that the light that was offered to you came from the moon, hence its dim brightness.

Without any intention of returning to the infinite darkness, you walked towards the trees that led you to a lake.

The lake was large, surrounded by pine trees, and with only the moonlight illuminating it and reflecting on its water.

The view was enchanting. It reminded you of one of those places where people would go when they needed to be alone or to think.

A place that would become someone's favorite place — where they would feel nothing but tranquility and security.

Where they could escape reality and take a break from their problems for a few hours.

Unfortunately, not everything is as it seems.

Just as a wolf can seem affectionate and friendly at first, causing its prey to let its guard down moments before attacking, this lake also seemed like a place of peace and not one of danger.

Your feet took you to the edge of the lake, where you crouched down and stretched out your hand to be enveloped by the water.

The water was pleasant and reminded you of summer days. You were swinging your hand from side to side when something caught your attention.

There, reflected in the lake, right behind you and a lot taller, emerged a dark figure.

A figure that was impossible to make out, could it be anything — a person, an animal, a shadow?

Acting on instinct, you turned as quickly as possible, and the only thing you could find was darkness accompanied by a deep voice.

"Come find me."

Your eyes flew open.

Your breathing was fast, as was your heartbeat — as if they were in a race that they both wanted to win.

A line of sweat ran down your chest while another on your forehead followed suit.

You sat up slightly in bed as your eyes quickly adjusted to the dark room.

You saw the desk in the middle of the room where the pile of letters still stood, the tall windows that were covered by brown curtains, the fireplace where there were still traces of the wood that had burned a few hours ago and finally — the warmth that rested against your back.

You were still in Autumn.

In Eris's room.

The male's arm was around your waist, his chest against your back, and his previously closed eyes were now open.

Those golden eyes that did something unknown to your heart.

Eris sat up, remaining behind you, bringing his free hand to brush your hair away from your bare shoulder where he placed a light kiss.

You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat at the brush of his lips against your skin, but you attributed those thoughts to your sleepy state.

With his arm still around your waist, he pulled you towards him until your back was resting against his bare chest and your head on his shoulder.

"Is everything okay?" Eris asked, barely above a whisper.

What was he doing to you?

How was it that after everything you had done to protect your heart, this male could undo it with just a touch?

"Little fox?"

You closed your eyes at the nickname. Your cheeks felt hot — from the nickname or from the male holding you?

You felt a warm hand take its place over your heart, a gesture so simple yet meaning so much.

Your heart began to stabilize, your body to relax, and your breathing to return to its normal state as Eris began to make small circles with his hand.

"I'm okay, Eris." You couldn't help the small smile that pulled the corners of your mouth upward until your dimples appeared.

This was becoming too real — too deep.

You had to get away. From this male, from this place — from everything that reminded you of a certain Heir with red hair and golden eyes that reminded you of the sun

"Are you sure, little fox?"

Whatever this was between you and this male couldn't continue.

How could he be having this effect on you?

"Mm-hmm." Your response was followed by a light kiss on your temple before another was placed on your cheek.

What was this feeling in your belly? Why was your heart reacting like this?

You had to put an end to this. You were going to tell the male that whatever this was was nothing more than a bit of fun.

You were going to pull yourself out of his arms, forget about his lips, put on your clothes, and leave.

You made your decision.

You didn't pull away when Eris pulled the two of you to lie down.

You didn’t protest when he laid your head on his chest and wrapped an arm around you.

You didn’t stop him when he covered you with the blanket.

Your mind felt heavy — what had you been thinking about earlier?

You snuggled closer to him, placing one of your arms over his stomach and tangling your legs with his.

You kissed his chest, and he ran his hand briefly through your hair.

A vague sense of thought passed through your mind — you had made a decision, hadn’t you?

You couldn’t remember.

The next morning, Eris woke up alone in his bedroom, now lit by the light of a new day.

He did not find your figure on the left side of the bed. Instead, he was surprised by a piece of parchment.

"I had to go, I have some business to attend to. Don't worry, prince, you will see me again."

Eris fell onto the bed with one hand hiding his face but not enough to hide his smile.

A warm and welcoming feeling filled his heart.

For the first time in all his centuries of life, Eris Vanserra was happy.

So happy that he didn't notice that his burn had been cured.

The Inner Circle was gathered in the living room with Amren back from her home.

Rhys had shared the vision with everyone that the four of them had encountered in the cabin — or what was left of it.

Rhys, Cassian, Azriel, and Nesta were still lost for words. Their minds couldn’t form thoughts — too busy trying to process everything they had seen in the cabin.

The plants and flowers, the evidence of your power in the destroyed walls and soil, the soldiers, and… the dead flower that still danced.

Every time they closed their eyes, that was the sight they were greeted with.

Feyre sat on the arm of the chair with a hand pressed against her chest. “Y/N… the soldiers. Are you sure it was her?”

When everyone remained silent, Azriel took over. “It was her. The soldiers had traces of her power. We don’t know where she went, but we believe she couldn’t have gone far.”

"I couldn't find anything in Helion's books," Amren said, "what do we do now?"

Several sighs were let out, and then "I think we should-" Azriel couldn't finish his thought due to the change in the air.

As his family immediately took up defensive positions, he realized he wasn't the only one who felt it.

Everyone's eyes found the source of the change — the door to the living room.

It was early morning, the light illuminating the room completely, but somehow, darkness could be seen beyond the door.

Everyone's hands began to find their weapons.

It was impossible to break into the River House — Rhys had placed the wards himself.

The darkness moved.

Azriel didn’t wait for the threat to strike first.

His centuries of training, experience, and combat kicked in.

In an instant, faster than the blink of an eye, Truth-Teller was flying through the air, about to strike his target.

Until a hand stopped it.

The darkness began to dissolve, revealing you behind it. As you walked into the room, the knife was still immobilized in your hand.

As surprise and shock grew on the faces of what you once recognized as your family, a smile grew on yours.

Your eyes flickered through violet, blue, brown, and silver ones until they stopped on a pair of hazels.

The Shadowsinger’s knees nearly gave out before you spoke.

“Now, that’s no way to welcome a lady.”

You walked around the room as you took in the decor.

The Inner Circle had moved to sit on the couch as they watched you.

"I like what you did with the new place. Fancy." You said as you ran a finger along the dining table.

As you walked to the couch, a smile still on your lips, you stopped to pour yourself a glass of whiskey before sitting down next to Nesta.

"Hello, friend." You said as you took a sip of the drink that burned your throat.

"Y/N."

When Nesta showed an intention to speak again, you quickly turned your gaze to the males who were sitting on the couch opposite yours.

"I heard you were looking for me. How cute." You said with what could be detected as false emotion.

"Where have you been?" Rhys asked you.

"Oh, you know. Here and there," your hand slid down your leg, stopping at your knee, "by the way. Beron made his alliance with Koschei and that human queen official yesterday."

Amren gave you a scornful look, "And how do you know that?"

A cheeky smile filled your face. You rested your arms on the back of the couch and crossed your legs as you replied, "I was with Eris yesterday."

Seeing her roll her eyes, your smile widened before you met the eyes of the female who had become like a sister to you.

Nesta watched as you stared at her with blank eyes and no emotion on your face — pain struck her heart as she didn't recognize the person in front of her.

"We saw the cabin."

Azriel's voice broke your eye contact with the female and made you focus on him.

"Oh, yeah? And what did you think?"

Amren answered, "Monstrous."

Your gaze met hers. “I was just protecting myself.”

“Were you?” she asked, “or were you trying to show off?”

Your eyes turned red, and the room began to shake as you let your power surge to the surface.

Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel widened their eyes as the Archeron sisters tried to hide the fear that filled them.

You stood up from the couch and walked towards the female without ever breaking eye contact or missing a step.

"Be careful, Amren," As you approached her, she began to retreat her steps. "If I were you, I would choose your next words wisely."

The ancient one's back touched the wall, and you noticed her breathing become faster. "You don't want to anger me."

As you glanced one last time at Amren, you gave her a smile before heading for the door.

Azriel was quick to stand up. “Where are you going?”

Your feet stopped, and you glanced over your shoulder. “Leaving, obviously.”

Just as you were about to resume walking, you were interrupted again.

“No.” Rhys answered this time.

This made you slowly turn in your place — it took all of Rhys’s strength not to flinch at the look in your eyes.

Cassian, who was next to him, murmured, “Careful, Rhys. Don’t get on her nerves.”

Rhys glanced at him sideways before swallowing the lump in his throat and letting out his High Lord voice.

Although he didn’t show it, he was shaking inside, but he hoped this would work on you.

"You're not going anywhere. Now that you're here, I want you under my supervision at all times. I forbid you to leave Velaris."

Everyone held their breath as they waited for your reaction.

They were all surprised when your answer was "Fine. Do I have a room here or will I have to sleep in the garden?"

One by one, they sighed in relief before Rhys spoke again "Of course you have a room here."

"I'll take you." Azriel walked forward before anyone could protest.

After climbing the stairs, turning left, then right and another right, they reached the door to your room.

Without hesitation, you opened the door and when you were about to close it, a hand stopped you.

"Azriel, no. I have a headache and I just want to sleep."

Azriel was surprised by your answer but now that you were in front of him, he didn't want to wait any longer.

"There's something I want to tell you. About that night."

"Honestly, I don't care."

"I didn't go to meet Elain. I went looking for you," seeing the confusion on your face, he continued, "I went to the clinic that morning but I didn't find you-"

"I wasn't there."

"I know and-"

"Azriel." Cassian's voice trailed off, drawing your gazes to him.

"Come," when Azriel tried to protest, Cassian was firmer, "now."

"Thank the Cauldron." And with that, you slammed the door in his face.

After dinner, the members of the Inner Circle entered the living room where Amren was on the couch with an old book on her lap.

No one had commented on what had happened.

Not out of fear of Amren but out of fear of what it would mean to admit it out loud.

Feeling your power, the closeness they felt — they weren't ready for this conversation even though they knew they would have to have it sooner or later.

"What are you looking for?" Feyre asked the elder.

When the silver-eyed female didn't answer, the High Lady approached and read the contents of the book.

Her eyes widened "You're reading about Koschei?"

The others approached.

"Yes, what Y/N said earlier made me think."

Azriel sat down next to her "About an alliance with Beron and the queen?"

"Yes." Amren kept her eyes on the book.

Cassian took the seat across from her and rested his arms on his thighs. “Why?”

Amren sighed and closed the book, setting it down on the small coffee table.

“Think about it. Koschei has been on the lake for thousands of years, right?” When everyone had settled down, she continued, “So why act now? With all the centuries he had to free himself from the lake, why now?”

Not liking where the conversation seemed to be going, Rhys approached the table and picked up the book, turning it over in his hand. “What’s your theory?”

“I think he’s waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Nesta asked.

Amren stood and went to pour a glass of wine. “Not for what, but for who.”

"Amren." The High Lady said. Everyone realized that this was not going to be a simple conversation.

"He's a sorcerer and his powers weren't neutralized, we realized that when he cursed Vassa. So what other spells can he do?"

The General ran a hand through his hair before sighing "What are you trying to say?"

Amren looked at the High Lord who was already looking at her, with a nod, she indicated to open to page one hundred and forty seven.

Rhysand followed her indication but it was the only thing he could do because the content was in an ancient language — long lost.

"What does it say?"

Amren cleared her throat to answer and for the second time that day, the Inner Circle saw her get nervous.

"It's a spell to see the future."

"What?" Everyone asked in unison.

Elain spoke for the first time since all this began "I thought only seers could see the future."

Amren shook her head in denial. Rhysand looked at the her and like a snap of fingers, the situation became clear in his mind.

"You think he used this spell to see when would be the best time to act."

Amren nodded. She grabbed the book and flipped through the pages until she found the one she wanted.

"Koschei needs help to break the spell that is binding him to the lake. He needs someone powerful. Very powerful."

Her gaze met Azriel's. "I think Koschei used the spell and saw when that someone would appear and has been waiting ever since. He needs someone with a power that he can relate to. I think-"

"Y/N." Nesta murmured.

All eyes moved to her but Nesta only looked at Amren.

The ancient one didn't need to say anything to confirm Nesta's thought.

"Koschei is a Death God," her eyes remained focused on the silver ones. "Y/N is a necromancer. Her power involves death and we have all just witnessed how powerful she is."

"No..." Azriel blurted out as Feyre covered her mouth with her hands.

"Amren?" Feyre asked.

The female simply nodded her head.

"If Koschei saw the future, he saw what was going to happen to Y/N," Rhysand began, "he waited until her powers changed to act."

Silence fell over the room.

This was bigger than they had thought. They had all thought their only concern would be Beron, but little did they know how wrong they were.

A second passed.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

"Koschei was waiting for Y/N."

Azriel was the first to move, followed by the others.

"Y/N!"

They all ran towards your room.

"Y/N!"

Their hearts were pounding as they got closer.

"Y/N!"

Just a few steps away, several prayers were sent to the Mother for you.

"Y/N!"

The door to your room was knocked down and the space was invaded by seven people.

Your room was dark.

Your bed was unmade and empty.

And you were nowhere to be found.

It was too late.

You were at the lake again.

The lake surrounded by pine trees and illuminated by the moonlight.

The lake that promised tranquility and safety.

'Another nightmare' you thought to yourself.

The figure appeared again reflected in the lake but this time in front of you.

You followed its reflection until you found it hovering over the lake.

Anyone else would have backed away, screamed or even run away.

But you were not just anyone and whatever this was, it didn't scare you.

You walked closer until your feet were greeted by the water.

"Who are you?"

The figure approached and beneath the cover of darkness you could make out the shape of a man.

"My name is Koschei. We finally meet, Y/N."

Your face remained neutral, without a trace of shock or surprise.

"How do you know my name?"

A deep chuckle rang across the lake, making its water vibrate.

"I've been waiting for you."

It was only when the man shrouded in darkness placed a hand on your shoulder that you realized this wasn't a nightmare.

Pryhtian shook as a great flash invaded the sky, dyeing it red.

The houses shook.

People screamed.

Animals fled.

The cold increased.

But it was only when they looked back at the sky that they realized what had happened.

The clouds changed color.

The darkness that had been hiding behind them advanced.

The storm was here.

A/n: Thank you for reading! There will be one or two more parts (I haven't decided yet) and I have a lot of ideas to finish it off in style!

[Masterlist]

General Taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa @lively-potter @meul-a @mrsjna @avajustreads @littlelou22 @talesofadragon @circe143 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @dark-chaos-314 @tequilya @scoliobean @saltedcoffeescotch @charlotteintumbleland @agirlwithwifiandalaptop

Taglist Fic: @crazylokonugget @quinzzelx @cumuluscranium @i-am-infinite @rcarbo1 @romantasyreader28 @thegreyjoyed @whyshouldihaveanam3 @meher-sumedha @paleidiot @skylarkalchemist @thestartitaness @romanoffslegacy @bookwormysblog @sandramalikstyles-blog @peachcontour-blog @tele86 @sidthedollface2 @kitsunetori @thegoddessofnothingness @myromanempiree @fxckmiup @ruler-of-hades @angelofl0ve

*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because I couldn't find your blog.

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar fandom #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #inner circle #azriel x reader #cassian #rhysand #feyre cursebreaker #eris x reader #eris vanserra #amren acotar #amren #elain archeron #nesta archeron

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fancyfade · 6 months

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Honestly I do think of Cass's reading, and her initial desire and later refusal to try*, has a lot to do with her perfectionism and well... like "sore-loser-ness" (not saying that you're a loser if you can't read, but like. she perceives not being good at something as "losing" and she hates it).

in one of the really early Batgirl issues (#3? I can't remember?) we see Cass tries to save a man who writes a letter to his wife, and she starts trying to read and write after seeing how the man's wife was affected by his letter. Then it's kind of ditched for a while. Later, Cass and Babs have friction because Cass doesn't try to learn how to read and it makes Babs mad, and she belittles Cass in a moment of stress.

And like. For Cass, we see that a lot of fighting stuff (which she perceives as very important) comes naturally to her. Barbara spars with her with escrimas and Cass picks up on it in 5 minutes, just from the body language reading. Cass learns Shadow Thief's techniques while fighting him. She also values being perfect, being great right away. When she temporarily has lost her body-language reading, she asks Bruce how long it takes until she's as good as he is, re-training herself, and he says probably 10 years. She thinks David (her bio father who raised her as an assassin with no language) made her perfect in just 8, and there's the whole repeated quote - Perfect for a year, or mediocre for a lifetime? She chooses perfect for a year - agrees that she will fight Shiva to the death in one year after Shiva restores her skills, and intends that she will die then because she won't kill anyone else (and should note - she never does really doubt that she can beat Shiva, even though other characters do).

Anyway where I'm going with this:

We have Cass, and she's got to be perfect. That's her thing. She's great at picking up new fighting skills, she tries to learn how to talk but because her brain is literally wired differently it doesn't happen until the meta messes with her brain, then it happens overnight. Her re-gaining her skill is not something that emphasized as "she trains a lot" (though we do see her training a lot - it's not what causes it to be re-gained so quickly), it's the deal she makes with Shiva. When it comes to reading, this is probably the only thing that's been that she genuinely struggles with, a lot (due to how her brain was wired), that doesn't have a quick-fix. And Cass is a perfectionist so she is going to feel embarrassed when other people find it easy and she doesn't. the way she protects her feelings is by, once she fails, not trying again. If you don't try, you can't fail and you can't feel bad about it.

*for a while

#dc comics #cassandra cain #batgirl #batgirl 2000

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mossfrg · 1 year

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Jersey Gotham

Okay as someone born and raised in Jersey, I feel like we as a fandom are missing out on truly Jersey-ified Gotham. Like, c’mon, Jersey Girl Brucie Wayne??? So here I am to present a list of things I need more of because god damn it make Batfam— mostly Bruce, Jason, Tim, Steph, and Duke— Jersey (all based on my own personal experiences/real things that have happened to me):

Bruce cannot pump his own gas. He just. Doesn’t know how to. It’s not like a rich person thing, he just never learned cause he’s from fucking Jersey and never leaves Gotham. Jason didn’t know how and Talía lost her shit “How??? You are child superhero??? Who died and spontaneously came back??? But you can’t pump gas??” Tim kinda knows cause of Titans but again, he never really had to. (There’s a Twitter threaded dedicated to the Wayne family titled “is this rich or Jersey”). Steph and Duke can but they both pretend not too.

There have been fist fights over whether it’s pork roll or taylor ham. Jason and Bruce are very adamantly pork roll like the good Southern Jersey boys they are— it’s the one thing they can agree in most days— but Tim is taylor ham. Steph and Duke, despite being South Jersey, like to cause chaos and flip sides constantly. Dick, Damian, and Cass couldn’t care less.

The Absolute Hatred of New York/NYC. Doesn’t matter which kid it is, Bruce (and Alfred) got them all on board with this. Don’t even get them started on the Statue of Liberty; it’s a Wayne family tradition to try and buy it from NY because technically it’s more in NJ than NY and it’s closer too. They’ve yet to be successful but Bruce has hope for when it’s Damian’s turn.

And bc of this hatred of NYC comes the support of Philly!! None of them are super big sport fans, but they do cheer for Eagles, 76ers, and Union. Bruce, thanks to Alfred, is a big fan of soccer (“it’s football, master Bruce, I didn’t raise you in a barn”), and is a member of the Sons of Ben. He can be found in the River End of the stadium with Jason cheering for Union at pretty much every home game. There are multiple videos of Brucie Wayne and Jason Wayne screaming at refs, launching fireworks off the roof, and cursing out opposing teams’ players. Duke and Tim can be found 76ers games, while Steph frequents Eagles games.

Accents. Pls for the love of god give those boys (and Steph) accents. They are from New Fucking Jersey. They say “cawfee” and “tawlk.” They pronounce 0% of their t’s in the middle of words— kitten is ki’en, Trenton is tren’in. Jason and Steph drop letters when they gets pissed, Bruce slurs words, Duke and Tim drop passive-aggressive “y’all’s” to piss people off.

Driving. Now it’s not that they’re shit drivers, it’s that everyone else is a shit driver, and it’s not helped that majority of them learned to drive in the Batmobile. Steph has a loudspeaker on her car and frequently yells “fucking Pennsylvania turn your goddamn blinker on!” while driving. Bruce has a room in the manor dedicated to his speeding tickets. Tim as gotten into multiple fists fights at lights because people were driving slow in the fast lane. Jason is infamous for doing the Jersey Slide.

Jason, Tim, and Steph have gotten mugged before. They talked their way out of it and gave tips to the mugger. Bruce has kicked a rabid raccoon while walking home before because what else was he supposed to do? Duke has ordered a “pork roll egg and cheese on an everything” before in Not-Jersey and cried because they don’t have it. Several foreign benefactors of WE have asked for translators at meetings with Brucie cause Brucie’s accent is so thick and exaggerated. IN CONCLUSION: making Batfam (and gotham) Jersey is funny as hell and presents so many good opportunities. Make Batfam Jersey! (again these are all just my personal experiences, big state yada yada, different experiences, blah blah idgaf I jsut need batfam fist fighting over pork roll)

#batfam #richard grayson #bruce wayne #brucie wayne #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #duke thomas #cassandra cain #alfred pennyworth #gotham #Please make them Jersey #Gotham is literally in Jersey #Make batfam jersey #Yes I did kick a raccoon once worth it

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nelkcats · 2 years

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Consequences

When he felt compelled to take over as Robin in order to save Batman from himself, Tim didn't have high expectations; he didn't expect to be adopted by Bruce, he didn't expect to acknowledge the fact that his parents were abusive by leaving him alone for months, he didn't expect anyone to care if he ate or not, and in general he didn't expect to gain a family.

And for a while he thought that everything would get better: he gained brothers, he had a caring father, he had no financial problems or had gotten sick; And yes, maybe Robin's patrols were harsh at first, maybe Bruce's words when he was angry reached his heart and hurt him deeply, but he was fine.

Until he wasn't, at some point he felt more abandoned than ever even though he was surrounded by his family. When he was talking to his boyfriend, he realized that everyone took him into account but no one really appreciated what he did.

At first he didn't understand why Danny looked at him concerned and kept asking if he was okay while he told him an anecdote from his life as a vigilante; they had known each other for a while (Alfred had noticed, the others hadn't), they started talking, dating in coffee shops and even revealed the fact of being vigilantes after a few months on a relationship, that's when they started sharing anecdotes with each other.

Danny mentioned that he was being a hypocrite for caring so much about his stories when his were just as bad. Tim didn't get it until he started to see things from another perspective.

He never realized how much it hurted how Bruce had never thanked him for helping when he was lost in time, or how Dick avoided talking about his Robin time by concentrating on Damian, he thought he could understand but that didn't make it any better, Jason's nickname was beginning to make sense.

He didn't realize how broken he felt when Jason tried to kill him and blamed him; He was his childhood hero, Tim loved Robin because Jason put him in the stars, however, no matter how many times he explained to his brother that the only reason he had taken the suit was because he had no choice, and that he felt forced to blackmail Batman to be his Robin before Bruce became what he hated most. Jason still didn't care, still called him Replacement over and over again, blaming.

Or Damian who kept trying to kill him, refusing to acknowledge him, and when he defended himself he ended up getting reprimanded. Not even Bruce thanked him for all the work he did in taking over the company as CEO. His entire family went on with their lives without repercussions.

Maybe he was being naive as he refused Danny's requests to run away from home and stay with him, at least for a few days so they would miss him. He felt like a broken record repeating the phrase "it's okay, they're trying, they can change", the look on his boyfriend's face told him he wasn't doing a good job on believing his own words.

The mansion made him feel small at times, ignored; it was fortunate that Alfred was actually paying attention to him and offering a cup of hot chocolate at such moments.

At some point he couldn't take it anymore, Jason and Damian's comments had gone too far, Bruce's lack of response along with Dick's laughter commenting that they weren't saying it in a bad way only made him angry, so he left the cave and called to Danny, he told him it was time to go.

He said goodbye to Alfred, Cass, Duke and Steph who had generally not contributed to his decision, and he regretted that he couldn't stay longer to get to know them better, but the damage had been building up for a long time.

He wrote a letter detailing his reasons to the rest of the family, leaving along some clues to let them know that he had left of his own free will and they wouldn't be able to find him even if they wanted to, he sighed as his anger turned to resignation.

"Are you ready?" Danny questioned, taking his hand gently as they walked out of the mansion.

"Ready as I'll ever be"

That's how Timothy Jackson Drake said goodbye to his home dimension and headed to the infinite realms, of course he was going to sneak in a couple of times to help his friends but never when his family is around. He hadn't expected the life in the palace or the marriage proposal that came years later, but although the place was gigantic, Tim felt good in it, comfortable, appreciated.

Time in the Realms passed quite quickly, unlike his original dimension, so years for him were a couple of months for his family.

He found it ironic that Danny was summoned as the Ghost King by Ra, who had the nerve to order the "creature" to give him the secrets of the Lazarus pits, offering the Batclan as sacrifices. Tim looked at the time portal connected to his home dimension (That Clockwork had given him to watch his family and friends, even if he was upset he was not going to let them die) wondering if he should interfere.

It was decided when Danny called Fright Knight to deal with the nuisance that was Ra, and he accompanied him as a royal adviser (regardless of his second title as ruler, he actually liked being a part of strategizing better and Danny was happy to give in to his wishes).

With a weary sigh he crossed the portal and began to recite Ra's crimes, indicating how he had damaged the balance between life and death since he corrupted the ectoplasm on the Lazarus pits to extend his life at the same time that Frighty stopped the man.

No one in the room bothered to pay attention to the stupefied bats who were watching the missing member of his family, but years older, that apparently was the Ghost King royal adviser. They tried to call him but Tim just gave them an annoyed look before continuing with his work.

By the time Fright Knight took Ra completely chained through the portal, they finally saw the ghost king move, he started kissing Tim's face repeatedly, which had turned his frown into laughter.

The moment they finally processed the scene they both disappeared, and well, weren't those the consequences of their own actions?

----

Thanks to @unadulteratedsoulsweets for the general idea, I enjoyed writing this! Even if it ended up a little bigger than I expected

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thedeviltohisangel · 7 days

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All The Things I Did (Interlude): Happy Birthday, Flyboy

@gloryofroses19 reminded me over the weekend that it was John's birthday so I had to write a little interlude. this takes place circa 1951 while the Egan's are living in Japan. I hope you all enjoy it, it is nothing but fluff fluff fluff with maybe a little bit of sexy flirting sprinkled in. love you xoxo

Cass craned her neck in the mirror to make sure she had gotten the hair at the back of her head into her curlers. She had tried to pack her entire vanity into her suitcase but hadn’t been completely successful. And she could tell exactly what was out of place in front of her as she sat in front of the mirror. She was missing her eye shadow brush that was tapered at her preferred narrow angle. The other three laid out in front of her just weren’t the same. Same for the two blush brushes that were different than the one she knew must have been left at home and the pan of eyeshadow that wasn’t the shade of pink that she had thought she’d packed. She sighed, knowing it was probably smeared over Penelope’s face by now.

When it came to biding her time, the toddler was most certainly taking after her mother. She knew how to be patient. How to observe for a weakness. How to act innocently for forgiveness. It worked on John like a charm. Their daughter knew how to play him like a maestro on violin and he fell for it happily every time.

“I thought you were going to take a bath with me before dinner?” John bent down to kiss the top of her head but paused when he couldn’t find an opening in the curlers. His hand wrapped under her chin and tilted her head back. “I don’t like when things get in the way of kissing you.” His thumb stroked over her throat as their lips connected.

“I said I would take a bath with you after dinner. We would never make it to dinner if I took one with you before.” They were spending John’s birthday weekend in a villa with a stunning view of Mount Fuji. The morning had been spent in the natural hot springs and the evening promised a beautiful dinner by candlelight. The relaxation they needed with only a few months left before Imogene’s first birthday brought a new wave of activity into their home. “And don’t distract me from trying to get ready! I haven’t gotten dolled up in a while and I’ve been looking forward to it.” She turned back towards the mirror and the various creams and serums and powders with a huff.

“Have I told you how much I love you recently?” Cass blushed. After four kids and six years of marriage, she would never tire of her sweet man.

“It’s been a couple of hours I think…” she mused as she tried to focus on curving the bronze tone around her eye just right.

“I guess I should fix that then.” She giggled as he dropped to his knees before her and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her robe-clad figure to his lips. His nose nudged open the fabric and kissed at the skin of her stomach that was bare, smiling as she squirmed slightly from the tickling. “I love you so much. You’ve given me the four most beautiful babies in the entire world. You’ve allowed me the honor of being your husband. You moved across the world so we’d never have to be without each other’s touch. Telling you I love you can’t even begin to capture the extent of what I feel for you.” She held his face in her hands.

“It’s your birthday. I’m the one who should be making such wonderful speeches about you.” John shook his head and pressed forward to kiss her.

“You’re the only reason I’m even here to celebrate my birthday, Spook. The only reason I even have it in me to be happy.” It wasn’t lost on him that he could have been alone for this birthday. That he could have been spending it at the dining hall on base with his men trying to cheer him up, rereading the letters from Cass and the kids until his sorrow allowed him to find a restless sleep.

Instead, three months after the birth of Imogene, Cass had packed up their family and their home and moved to Tokyo. She was Chief of Operations at Tokyo Station. John had been promoted to Colonel. They were busy and they were exhausted but they were happy. They were in love. And most importantly, they were together.

“I love you.” It was her simple attempt at trying to capture everything swirling in her heart. There would never be the words for the feelings. They hadn’t been invented because a love like theirs had never occurred.

“I love you, too, baby. I love you so much.” She puckered her lips and he pecked a kiss against her gently.

“Now if you don’t mind…”

“Fine, fine. I’ll leave you to your potions.” He rose with a grunt, Cass biting back her remark about him becoming an old man but holding back her ogling when his fingers scratched at the hair that disappeared into his boxers. “I offered a bath, Cassandra Ann Egan. You don’t get to say no then look at me like that.”

“My full name?” she gasped. “As if I could say I changed my mind and you wouldn’t be on me in a second.” She pointed a makeup brush at him for effect. His head poked back into the bathroom instantly.

“Have you changed your mind?”

----

Every nerve in her body felt on fire as their fingers danced together in the middle of the dinner table. Their last course was being cleared before dessert but her husband looked more appetizing than anything they could put in front of her.

He hadn’t let go of her hand once the entire meal. Had stroked his thumb over the top of her hand. Traced a heart onto her palm. Twisted their fingers together in a waltz that had her breath stolen and heart skipping. She loved the way their fingers slotted together like they were carved from the same rock at the center of the earth. Like he was made just for her to love.

“You look very handsome tonight,” she hummed.

“It’s a wonder I even have the sanity to sit at this table, Cass, with how beautiful you look tonight.” The champagne urged a giggle from her lips and he smiled triumphantly. “How’s it possible to love you more everyday?” His question was sincere. His eyes soft and curious as he regarded her like the eighth wonder of the world.

“I wish I had the answer. But I love waking up every morning and learning that it remains to be true.” Cass brought his hand to her lips and kissed each knuckle before bringing it to her cheek. “Happy birthday, Johnny.”

“Thank you, baby.” He leaned across the table to kiss her and was about to ask her to ditch dessert and head back to their villa when the manager appeared next to their table.

“Colonel Egan, Mrs. Egan, I apologize. We have your children on the phone at the front desk.”

“What?” Cass pushed back from the table with a preternatural speed. “Is everything okay? Oh my God!” John jogged after her as she made a beeline for the front desk.

“Mommy?”

“Penny? What’s wrong, my love? Where’s Joan?”

“I want to talk to Daddy.” Cass handed the phone to her husband, pressing her chin into her chest so she could listen.

“Hi, Princess.”

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” John smiled and the tension eased from Cass’ muscles. “Gale and Lillian and Immy are asleep but they say happy birthday too.” Penelope knew it was tomorrow but was resolved to be the first of her siblings to say it to her father.

“Thank you, my love. And why aren’t you asleep?”

“Too hard. I miss you and mommy.”

“We’ll be home tomorrow and I want so many hugs and cuddles from you as my birthday present.”

“Tea party?” He chuckled and hugged Cass closer to his chest.

“A really big tea party.” Penelope squeaked with delight on the other end of the phone…Before she was quieted by the muffled sounds of the nanny discovering her in the kitchen.

“Bye Daddy. Love you.” The line was clicked off before he could even respond.

“Well, Penny knows how to use the phone,” he mused. He apologized as he handed the phone back to the front desk.

“She’s going to be a menace as a teenager.” John kissed the top of his wife’s head as he pushed her chair in for her, back at their table after the momentary distraction.

“That’s why we have Gale to balance her out. Maybe the two of them can meet in the middle some day.” Where Penelope was fire and brimstone and spinning on every axel, Gale was quiet and patient and observant and measured in his approach to everything.

“But they're both so full of love. All of our babies are.” Cass’ voice was dreamy as she thought of the precious little Egans that were at home. “I miss them.” Immy in particular was still so little. A tiny baby that clung to her parents and was just happy to tug on Butter’s ears all day.

“I miss them, too. But we’ll have them back in our arms tomorrow. And you deserved a couple nights to focus on yourself. You put them first and are the most wonderful mother in the world, Cass. It’s okay to give yourself a full night’s sleep once in a while.”

“I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to balance it all, as hard as I try. But I love this life so much, John. The life we’ve built together.”

“You thrive in the chaos, baby,” John teased with delight in his eyes. “Actually-” Cass clapped as he was interrupted by the appearance of a chocolate cake with a litany of candles.

“Happy birthday, Flyboy!” It was simply sinful coming out of her mouth. Made his cheeks burn hotter than the flames dancing on the cake. Made him shift his hips to try and quell his growing desire for his wife. “I could sing for you…” He hummed as the cake settled in front of him.

“The song of a siren. You can sing for me in the bath.” She rolled her eyes.

“You and that bath.” He merely winked, closing his eyes to make a wish before blowing out the candles. “I love you.” Cass leaned across the table to meet him halfway in a kiss as the cake was taken away to be plated for them.

“Are you going to let me feed you cake like it’s our wedding day?”

“Is that what you wished for?”

“We can have another wedding if you want, Spook.” He’d marry her every single day. Every version more opulent than the last if that is what she wanted.

“Maybe in a few years. I want to just relax and enjoy Immy as a baby. Enjoy all our kids exactly in the stage of life they are now.” They thanked the waitress who returned with cake and John tugged Cass’ plate away from her. His fork cut through the sponge and extended towards her lips and she made sure her desires for what she truly wanted between her lips were known through her eyes.

“Just like that,” he whispered in a daze as he didn’t even try to control the lust coating his gaze. He was a selfish man, wanting this angel all to himself. But he had no interest in ever sharing. The world had already taken so much of her. The pieces that remained were his to cherish. His to protect. He wouldn’t fail her again. He couldn’t fail her again.

And it was that thought that woke him violently from his sleep only a few hours later. A cool sheen of sweat across his skin. His chest heaving with the struggle to bring in oxygen.

“Baby?” Cass pinched her face together where it rested on his bare chest as his turmoil woke her from her slumber. “What’s the matter?” she slurred.

“Nothing…Just…” Germany. Wisconsin. Flashing through his mind at a dizzying speed. The level of anger he had held for her. The near hatred that had watered in his mouth when he saw her in that camp. How the word divorce had fallen from his lips that night in his childhood bedroom. How his actions could have led down a path that didn’t end here.

“Bad dreams?”

“Memories.” He didn’t ever want to forget the horrors they had been through together. Ever let the ache in his chest at putting her through what he did escape him. He needed to remember so he could be sure to cherish the moments they had now. Cherish the gift heaven had given him by keeping her in his universe.

“And they’re just that. In the past.” Cass kissed at the patch of hair over his heart and rested her chin on her hand, gazing up at him.

“I’m sorry. For how I treated you in Germany. For everything I said to you that night in Wisconsin.” She sighed and shifted so her elbow was resting on the pillow next to him. The nightmares of the war plagued both of them. Woke them from sleep less frequently than they had before but often enough they’d had this conversation many times.

“You’ve made up for it four times over with our babies.” Her fingers wrapped with his as she pressed kisses to each of his knuckles. “You’re loved, John. You’re endlessly loved.” She had forgiven him years ago. Received his forgiveness in kind. But she would remind him of that every night if he needed. Anything to bring him the peace he had earned.

John leaned forward and pressed kisses to her bare shoulder, collarbone, up her neck and to her lips. “If I give you another baby, am I forgiven five times over?” Her leg was over his hip with a breathless laugh, his hands steadying her at the waist.

“When Immy is older, we can talk about it.” Considering John’s apathy for condoms, it might happen sooner.

She guided him into her with ease, sighing at the feeling of him stretching her out. John needed this. The physical reminder that she was his and here and not leaving. The reminder that they worked together better than they ever had. “I need you, always.”

“You have me, always.” Her blue sky. His north star. A compass he’d follow anywhere knowing it would lead him home. It wasn’t a place, it was a person. His wife. His own corner of the universe that was his to seek solace in.

No one could take this from them.

It was theirs. And they'd protect it with all they had.

No matter what it may cost them.

#john egan #masters of the air #john egan fanfiction #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan x oc #callum turner #cass and bucky

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hanmegumi · 2 years

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I HEAR CONGRATS ARE IN ORDERRRRRRRRR 💛💛💥🎉💛💛

you deserve every one, my beloved :D

HELLO THANK YOU MY CASS THANK YOU FOR STICKING AROUND YOU ARE SUCH A GREAT FRIEND AND IM LUCKY TO HAVE YOU <3

#inbox #lost letters from cass #cass tag

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quinzzelx · 5 months

Text

Stars of Solace

Cassian x Fem!Reader

Request: Would you pretty pretty please do cass looking after you after some bad news. [...]

Summary: You received some bad news regarding your family, Cassian finds you on the roof and comforts you, leading to a shared moment of love.

Word Count: 2k, A little shorter than usual.

Warning: Loss of a loved one, otherwise pure fluff!!

A/N: I hope you like it! This is on the shorter end but I still really enjoyed writing some soft boy Cassian!! ☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

The wind was harsh atop the House of Wind, buffeting against you with an almost relentless force. Your hands clutched the crumpled letter, its edges frayed by the constant folding and unfolding as you read and reread the words that had shattered your heart. The sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of bleeding oranges and purples, but the beauty of it felt hollow, the colors a mockery to the darkness swelling within you.

Your brother, the constant in your tumultuous life, the one who had survived with you through the coldest, harshest winters of the Winter Court, had been killed in an attack on your village. The news had come unexpectedly, a cruel twist in what had been a peaceful chapter of your life in Velaris. Tears had long since dried on your cheeks, but your heart continued to weep, inconsolable in its loss.

You didn’t hear Cassian approach, his steps silent against the stone of the roof. It was only when his large, warm hand touched your shoulder that you realized you were no longer alone. You didn't need to look up to know it was him; his presence was a familiar comfort, a steady force amidst the chaos of your emotions.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice a gentle rumble. He didn’t ask if you were okay. The letter in your hands told him everything he needed to know.

You shifted slightly, allowing him to sit beside you. Cassian didn’t speak. Instead, he sat close, his shoulder pressed against yours, sharing his warmth. The two of you watched the sun’s last light vanish, leaving the world to the soft embrace of twilight.

“It was an attack,” you finally whispered, your voice hoarse. “He didn’t make it. He... he saved two children. He died a hero.” The words were a lump in your throat, pride and pain mingling in a bitter concoction.

Cassian’s hand found yours, fingers intertwining with a grip that was both firm and infinitely gentle. “He was brave, just like his sister,” he said, his tone imbued with respect and sorrow for your loss.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, the fight to keep your composure wavering under his empathetic presence. “I should have been there. I could have—”

“Stop,” Cassian interrupted softly but firmly. “This isn’t on you. There’s nothing you could’ve done from here. He made his choice, a brave one, to protect others. It’s a choice worthy of honor, not guilt.”

The tears came again, and this time you didn’t hold them back. Cassian shifted, pulling you into his embrace, a shield against the relentless wind and your own spiraling thoughts. His wings unfurled slightly, wrapping around the two of you in a cocoon of warmth and safety.

“You’re not alone in this,” he murmured into your hair. “I’ve got you. We all do. Let us share this burden with you.”

In the sanctuary of his arms, surrounded by the strength of his wings, you allowed yourself to feel the full weight of your grief. Cassian held you through it all, his presence a silent vow of unwavering support. Time lost meaning as he held space for your sorrow, proving once again that in the face of pain, you did not have to stand alone.

As the stars began to pepper the sky, you felt a tiny flicker of solace in the darkness. With Cassian by your side, you knew you would find a way to navigate this grief. Together, beneath the vast, unending skies of Velaris, you would begin to heal.

The cool night air carried the faint scent of sea and jasmine from the gardens below, a reminder of life's continuity even amidst loss.

"You didn't choose this path for him, love," Cassian whispered, his breath warm against your ear. Each word was carefully chosen, meant to soothe the tumult within you. "He chose his actions based on his courage, his love for others. You taught him that courage, just by being who you are."

The guilt that gnawed at your insides made it hard to breathe, hard to accept his words, but the sincerity in Cassian's voice, the unwavering strength in his embrace, coaxed the tightness in your chest to ease, if only slightly.

"Look at the sky, love," he continued, guiding your gaze upwards with a gentle tilt of his head. "See how each star shines brightly, fiercely against the darkness? That’s how he lived—brightly, fiercely. And that’s how he’ll be remembered. Not for the moment he was taken from us, but for all the moments he lit up the lives around him."

His hand cupped your face, turning it back to meet his gaze. In the dim light, his eyes were a stormy sea of compassion and pain—pain for your hurt more than anything else.

"You carry him with you," Cassian said, his thumb wiping away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. "In your memories, in your heart, in every good deed you do, he’s there. Let the love you have for him be what drives you forward, not the guilt, not the ‘what ifs’. He wouldn’t have wanted that for you, (Y/N) "

You nodded, the lump in your throat easing as his words washed over you, a healing balm to the raw edges of your soul.

"And whenever it gets too much," he added, pulling you back into the shelter of his arms and wings, "remember that I’m right here. I'll hold you, just like this, until you feel strong enough to stand again. You’re not alone—not now, not ever."

In the sanctuary of Cassian’s arms, surrounded by the comforting weight of his wings, you felt the first thread of peace weave through your grief. His heartbeat against your ear was a steady drum, a grounding force in the swirling chaos of loss. As you sniffled, the weight of your sorrow still heavy upon your heart, you felt Cassian's gaze upon you, unwavering and tender. Meeting his eyes, you couldn't help but notice the way they seemed to hold entire constellations within them—stars of compassion, understanding, and love, twinkling in the darkness of your grief.

His features, carved with precision and strength, softened as he watched you, his smile a beacon of reassurance amidst the storm of emotions. You tried to look away, to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks at being caught, but his hand under your chin gently urged you to meet his gaze once more.

"There she is," he said, his voice low and teasing, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. His smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, a silent acknowledgment of your shared moment of vulnerability. Caught off guard, you felt the blush deepen, warmth spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your ears. You attempted to look away again, but his touch kept you rooted, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin in a gesture both comforting and electrifying.

"None of that now," he murmured, his tone soft but insistent. "I want to see your pretty face."

His words, delivered with a playful lilt, sent a flutter through your chest, a warmth that chased away some of the chill of your sorrow. It was a borderline flirtation, a reminder of the connection between you that transcended words—something deeper, something unspoken but felt in every shared glance, every brush of fingertips. Meeting his gaze once more, you allowed yourself a small smile. As you did, Cassian softly caressed your cheek, his calloused fingertips from fighting too many battles tracing gentle patterns on your skin. The contrast of his rough touch and the tender motion was soothing, grounding. Your heart pounded with a mixture of emotions, each beat echoing louder in the stillness of the night.

His breath fanned over your face, warm and steady, mingling with the cool air around you. It was intimate, the space between you charged with an energy that was palpable. Cassian's thumb then swiped softly over your bottom lip, a touch so light yet so full of meaning, drawing your breath to catch in your throat. His eyes, intense and unyielding, searched your face as if memorizing every detail, his gaze lingering particularly where his thumb rested.

"You've got this incredible strength about you," he said, his voice low and full of admiration. "Even now, with your heart heavy, you're here, fighting through it. It's one of the many things I..." He paused, his eyes flickering with a hint of vulnerability before firming up with resolve. "... admire about you."

His thumb pulled away slightly, but his hand remained, cupping your face warmly, grounding you to the moment, to him. His presence felt like a shield, protecting you from the remnants of your despair. His gaze held yours, unwavering and filled with an emotion that beckoned you closer, urged you to lean into his strength and warmth.

"In times like these, I want you to remember that you're not alone. I'm here, always," Cassian continued, his voice firm yet gentle, a silent promise hanging between the words. His other arm encircled your waist, pulling you closer.

As you leaned into the warmth of Cassian’s embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart and the comforting strength of his arms around you, the tension in your body began to melt away. His words had been like a beacon in the night, guiding you back to a place of safety and assurance.

"I can't tell you how much that means to me, Cassian," you responded, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with a gratitude that welled up from deep within.

He smiled softly at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that always made your heart skip. "Anything for you," he said sincerely, his gaze locked with yours.

Then, after a moment, the intensity in his eyes shifted, giving way to a playful glint. He tilted his head slightly, his lips quirking up in a mischievous smile. "Would it be a bad moment to ask if I could kiss you?" he asked, his voice a mix of earnest and teasing.

The question, unexpected yet so very Cassian, broke through the somber mood, drawing a soft laugh from you. It was a sound that felt good to release, lightening your spirit and easing the remnants of sadness.

"No, it wouldn't be a bad moment," you replied, your smile growing as you looked up at him through your lashes, touched by his ability to bring levity back into your world, even in the midst of pain. His eyes lit up with joy at your response, and he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours. "Good," he murmured, "because I've been wanting to do this all evening."

And with that, Cassian closed the small distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was gentle yet full of the emotions that had been simmering between you both. It was a kiss that spoke of comfort, of shared strength, and a promise of support through whatever might come. In that kiss, the last remnants of the day’s weight seemed to dissolve, replaced by a shared connection that felt both grounding and uplifting.

As you pulled away slightly, still close enough to feel his breath on your skin, you realized that with Cassian by your side, you felt stronger and more capable of facing the days ahead. And in that beautiful, starlit night, laughter and love found a way to coexist with sorrow.

☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

I loooooove Cassian!!! He's so soft but also so rough? Golden Retriever warrior BF!!!! This is shorter, but I still really enjoyed writing this!

#acotar #cassian x reader #cassian fluff #a court of thorns and roses #cassian #imagine #x reader

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