#she isn’t going to be swayed by a mating bond

[deathsweetblossoms]

“I belong to no one, but my heart belongs to you.”

Elain wants a deep, true love with someone where she is seen, understood, heard, valued. She does not want to be owned. She wants a love who can hear her heart beating, who takes the time to really see her, not because they were forced together, but because that person chose to see her. Chose to listen. Deeply understands her. She values these things OVER fated or preordained soulmates. (Feyre even admits she won’t give Lucy any hope because she suspects Elain might still try to find a way to be with Grayson, despite the bond. Canonically, she will find a way to be with who she wants to be with, despite a bond. )

And, quite frankly, after a life of living in Nesta’s shadow, she deserves to stand on her own and make her own decisions. She deserves to be seen and understood.

Her story is going to revolve around choice, autonomy, hope, deep and tender love, and quiet strength. And I cannot wait for it.

[glossamerfaerie]

One aspect of Gwynriel that really excites me is religion. The other protagonists don’t seem to take religion or rituals very seriously? Everyone respects the Mother and acknowledges her power (and the Cauldron), but we haven’t explored faith among the fae. Feyre has a terrible experience with Ianthe (a sadly accurate depiction of corruption within organized religion). But we know that not all priestesses are like power-hungry Ianthe. Nesta is understandably indifferent even though she later has an experience with the Mother during Nyx’s birth. Rhys and Cassian seem respectful but we’ve never seen them pray or attend services. It’s giving “only attending church during Christmas” level of religious commitment.

Azriel, on the other hand… we haven’t had much canon insight in his head, but I firmly believe that Azriel is more religious than his brothers. Like he’s not the type to attend temple services, but he probably thinks about faith and the Mother regularly. Clearly he has contemplated mating bonds and who creates them — maybe he’s prayed for a mating bond? Maybe his mother raised him to be more religious. In HOFAS, after Nesta takes the mask off in a close call, Az’s very first instinct is to thank the Mother. Possibly that is meaningless (like how an atheist can say “thank god”) but idk. Az seems to have more faith than his brothers.

“The Mask fell from Nesta’s face, clattering on the stone.

Nesta swayed, but Azriel was there, catching her, bringing her to his chest, scarred hands stroking her hair. “Thank the Mother,” he breathed. “Thank the Mother.”

A few chapters later, Az describes the Cauldron and what happens after death.

“Bryce nodded to the carving. “What’s the big deal about a cauldron?”

“The Cauldron,” Azriel amended. Bryce shook her head, not understanding. “You don’t have stories of it in your world? The Fae didn’t bring that tradition with them?”

Bryce surveyed the giant cauldron. “No. We have five gods, but no cauldron. What does it do?”

“All life came and comes from it,” Azriel said with something like reverence. “The Mother poured it into this world, and from it, life blossomed.”

Later in the conversation, Az explains what happens to souls after death.

“When you die, where do your souls go?” Did they even believe in the concept of a soul? Maybe she should have led with that.

But Azriel said softly, “They return to the Mother, where they rest in joy within her heart until she finds another purpose for us. Another life or world to live in.”

The way Az talks about the Mother, with reverence and confidence, makes me certain that he’s more religious than his brothers.

Then, of course, we have Gwyn — a literal priestess who was raised in a temple. She still attends daily services and sings for the choir. I’ve wondered if what happened in Sangravah shook Gwyn’s faith. Maybe she thinks the Mother exists but isn’t a benevolent deity. Maybe she’s bitter that the Mother didn’t save her servants from Hybern attacks. She definitely feels shame and unworthiness — Gwyn no longer feels like she has a right to wear the Invoking Stone. Working through those feelings will be a major aspect of Gwyn’s arc.

“You asked me once why I don’t wear the hood or the Invoking Stone. That stone is a sign of holiness. How can someone like me wear it?”

Within the temple, Gwyn also faces prejudice and discrimination from her fellow sisters. Ianthe isn’t the only asshole within the organization (cough Merrill cough). I’m sure that some people in Sangravah were cruel to Gwyn’s family because of their nymph heritage. I don’t know what SJM has planned, but I feel that religion will play a major role in the Gwynriel book. I wouldn’t be surprised that, like Nesta, Gwyn has a firsthand experience with the Mother. She will definitely use the blue invoking stone for healing (a nice parallel to Az’s blue siphons).

“It’s an Invoking Stone.” Gwyn unfurled her fingers, revealing the gem within her hand. “Similar to the Siphons of the Illyrians, except that the power of the Mother flows through it. We cannot use it for harm, only healing and protection. It was shielding us.”

I’m also curious to see Gwyn and Az discuss their religious beliefs together. Maybe Az gets permission to join the dawn and dusk services. The man barely sleeps, he might as well watch Gwyn during her religious commitments. The shadows are NOT going to pass a chance to hear their girl sing (or watch her glow). Maybe Nesta can talk Az into singing with the choir. 🥹

Nesta could only gape at the lovely melody, the voices from the front of the cavern leading it, lifting higher than the others. Gwyn sang, chin high, a faint glow seeming to radiate from her. The music was pure, ancient, by turns whispering and bold, one moment like a tendril of mist, the next like a gilded ray of light. It finished, and Merrill spoke about the Mother and the Cauldron and the land and sun and water. She spoke of blessings and dreams and hope. Of mercy and love and growth.

Idk, maybe I’m wrong about Az being religious. But it feels like such a wasted opportunity if we don’t learn more about the Mother! At the very least, I do see Az attending the dawn and dusk services if he’s not on a mission. 🎼🩵🎶

[wingedblooms]

A different sort of strength

Elain had always been gentle and sweet—and I had considered it a different sort of strength. A better strength. To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind. She had been always so full of light. (acowar)

-

I whipped my head toward him. “You think I stifle her?”

Rhys held up his hands. “Not you alone.” He surveyed the study as he thought. “But I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she’d disappoint you all.” He sighed toward the ceiling. “With time and safety, perhaps we’ll see a different side of her emerge.” (Feysand bonus)

Many have assumed Elain is as all she appears: lovely and gentle and sweet. Feyre believes her loving nature is a different sort of strength, and it is. Love is powerful. In Sarah’s stories, love alters fate time and again in every world. But to Rhysand’s point, this perception of Elain—as lovely and gentle and sweet—is incomplete.

When Amren said there’s no going back to human in acofas, I think Sarah was preparing us for her evolution as a character. That’s why she has hinted Elain isn’t all she appears; a different side of her will emerge. Her family intervention is coming and it will push her to grow and embrace all the layers people can’t (or refuse) to see.

That doesn’t mean she will become something unrecognizable. In an interview, Sarah confirmed that Elain is a quiet dreamer, so her evolution will remain true to the different sort of strength she possesses. For example, she may learn to operate as a spy and courtier and ambassador in Mor’s place on the continent. While she can act like an otherworldly soldier-assassin when needed, as Amren once was, Elain doesn’t need to use violence to change fate.

…intelligence is in the knowledge business. Sometimes it might be useless. Sometimes enough to blackmail someone. And sometimes, just sometimes, it influences battles, sways governments, and changes the fate of the world.

-

In the intelligence world, a spy is strictly defined as someone used to steal secrets for an intelligence organization. Also called an agent or asset, a spy is not a professional intelligence officer, and doesn’t usually receive formal training (though may be taught basic tradecraft).

Instead, a spy either volunteers or is recruited to help steal information, motivated by ideology, patriotism, money, or by a host of other reasons, from blackmail to love. From an intelligence perspective, their most important quality is having access to valuable information. For this reason, a government minister might make a great spy—but so might the janitor or a cafeteria worker in a government ministry. (spy museum)

A spy’s most important quality is having access to valuable information. We already know Elain has access to valuable information through her powers, and her information repeatedly helps and protects others.

she tells her court leaders about Vassa, an ally who brings fire and brimstone to the war effort, and Koschei, a looming threat;

she locates the Suriel from across the world to help Feyre gain critical knowledge,

she miraculously neutralizes Hybern before he can kill Nesta and Cassian (which we will likely learn was planned and executed through a combination of her powers), and

she shares information about Nesta’s interests and skills so they can be utilized by her court and her mate, leading to the consummation of their bond.

Elain has influenced quite a bit and only needed to wield a knife once—a lethal blow that no one expected—to change fate. Her gifts are well-suited for accumulating secrets. She may even be able to gather secrets about people on sight, like other seers.

Spies also try to blend in with their surroundings to avoid getting caught. And in the Hewn City, Eris and Cassian dismiss Elain based on her appearance. Hewn City is described as rotting darkness and Elain wears a dress that leeches the life from her appearance. She looks plain. Boring. And no one really pays her any attention as a result.

In the very next chapter, Nesta is shocked (again) by Elain’s sudden appearance and wonders if she is training with the spymaster or her friends, the spies. I don’t think we’ve seen Nuala and Cerridwen use violence once as spies. They have access to valuable information in their roles as handmaidens and their abilities as wraiths allow them to truly blend into their surroundings. It’s possible Elain has learned to move like a wraith from them and depending on the extent of their powers, she might have also learned how to alter her appearance or even wear different bodies. @offtorivendell and I think this could explain, if it becomes canon, how Elain could’ve appeared as Balthazar to help Nesta and Emerie.

Elain also learned how to prepare food from her spy friends, which is another method to influence or disarm others. We learn Elain is working on an herb garden right around the time she learns how to prepare food. Conveniently, herbs can harm as well as heal. She doesn’t need to wield a sword when she has natural weapons growing in her garden.

As the sweet and gentle gardener, no one would suspect Elain of spying or growing plants that could help her access even more knowledge (or protect herself against potential aggressors). But we know, thanks to Rhysand, that gardeners are used to getting their hands dirty, and we know, thanks to Feyre, that Elain won’t hesitate to wield hers for a pretty result.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Creature Comforts

Summary- Alpha Steve and Little One. Steve gifts his mate something special.

A/N- @ladytarotheart that post totally made me think of them cozying up all day!

“Just wait inside Little One.” Steve yelled from the back deck, leaving you trying to peek down the hallway towards the bedroom and the Little Wolf huffing curiously at the Alpha while he calmly ignored his mate's impatience, instead focusing on grooming her. 

“But Steve… Maybe I should help?” You offered, trying to hide your real intentions. You started to creep down the hallway, heading towards the bedroom when Steve suddenly stepped out with a raised brow, effectively catching you in the act. 

“Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Steve looked so stern asking this that you whined at him, eyes wide trying to look innocent at him. 

“I thought you said I could.” 

<Lame, he isn’t gonna believe that> The Little Wolf sputtered while the Alpha with her growled in amusement at your attempts. 

He might!

“Liar, Liar Little One.” Steve broke into a grin, catching you before you could bolt away from the living room, and tugged you in close to nip at his mark on your neck. “Maybe I shouldn’t let you back there to see what I’ve done.” 

You curled into Steve even though you originally gonna run away, he must have sensed your intentions in the bond which was flowing with playfulness and affection between you. You let your face press into his shoulder and your hands tease under his shirt to run your palms against his muscled back, letting his scent smother you as you licked at his neck and nuzzled your nose into his beard. 

“You wouldn’t keep me out of our bedroom for long, our nest?” You pressed sweet kisses to his lips, enticing him to give in to you. You could feel him starting to give in, his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass and lifting so you could wrap your legs around him and your nails dig into his back slightly to keep you steady as you pulled your face away to look at him. Wiggling the tip of your nose at him. “Would you?” 

You could see the Alpha simmering under his gaze, possessive of you and your happiness at home. “You got me Little One.” He nudged at you till your head tipped back, giving him access to your neck as he inhaled deeply against you, pressing his mouth against the curve. “Close your eyes though Little One and keep them closed.” 

You almost challenged him in this, daring him to punish you if you didn’t because you felt safe with your Alpha, knew that he would make your ‘Punishment’ wildly pleasurable. But you also felt how important this was for him to be a surprise. The Alpha danced excitedly around with his Little Wolf and you felt Steve’s slight nervousness at your reaction in the bond. 

You could give him this without a challenge, it was important to him. 

Closing your eyes you heard him whisper ‘Good Girl’ while carrying you through the rest of the hallway and through the bedroom. Fresh air wafted your senses and the dappled sunlight warmed the back of your neck as you had your face hidden in his shoulder. He paused, towards the far end of the back deck. Steve’s hold didn’t loosen, but he gave a little affectionate nip at the hinge of your jaw, tracing along it with the tip of his nose. “Okay, you can look Little One.” 

You lifted your head, blinking at the dappled sunlight streaming through the summer time trees that made the air smell so clean. 

You gasped with excitement, seeing what Steve had constructed on the porch. Swaying gently was a lifted bed, covered in fern colored blankets and plush pillows made to lounge in. You wiggled a bit to be let down, which he obliged. Easing you to a stand, you tugged on his arm. “You put this together for us?” 

“Go ahead and try it Little One, let me know if its soft enough.” Steve encouraged with a satisfied smile at your reaction. 

The Little Wolf purred at her Alpha, crooning affectionately at the gift while she nuzzled in against him. You pressed your hands against it to feel the softness and let it swing a bit. You couldn't help the way your pupils widened or your own satisfied whine while you pushed yourself into the outdoor bed and twisted to lay back, letting the sway lull you. 

Steve could feel his nerves settled, you loved it, everything in you spoke of comfort and feeling safe. It made immense satisfaction flow through him, the Alpha relaxing that his mate was comfortable. “Get in with me Steve.” You rested on your elbows, giving your mate a hungry look. 

It sent heat straight through Steve as he reached over his shoulder to pull his tee over his head. “We really should test it out.” 

“We should ‘cause this might be our next nest.” You giggled as you reached for your Alpha, pulling him over you in the bed, making it sway a bit more wildly than before. 

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐦𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTP

Slytherin

Neutral Evil

Scorpio Sun, Aries Moon, Gemini Rising  

SFW🌿

⭑ You could feel her power radiating from her before you even entered the room. It was like a vibration that only you could feel. 

⭑ As you felt her, she felt you.

⭑ Because to have Amren, and hold her attention, you have to have something special. And you do. An innate power that was bestowed upon you at birth from a mysterious stranger. 

⭑ You never knew your power, you just knew it was there. Underneath your skin, radiating, ready to attack at any sign of danger. 

⭑ The whole of Velaris knows that you’re Amren’s mate. Even though you are a woman to be feared as well, it’s like a double shield. You never have anyone talk ill of you - because they’re scared it will come back on them

⭑ You get along very well with Rhysand and Nesta. They remind you of a hidden darkness that you and Amren both have. Maybe it’s power, maybe it’s trauma or pain. 

⭑ You do like to let your hair down and cause some chaos with Cassian, he’s like a brother you’ve always wished for. 

⭑ In your day-to-day lives, you have books upon books in every single room. You’re both avid readers and yearners for knowledge. You can often find Amren on the couch, her feet tucked beneath her, and a big dusty book in her lap. 

⭑ The holidays are always fun because you love meeting up with the rest of the Inner Circle. It’s difficult to have everyone in one room because of how important your roles are. 

⭑ Do you have animals? Not a lot. But I can see you having a single black cat that seems to understand everything you say. 

⭑ Amren wants to know all about your childhood. She secretly yearns to know the human experience. 

⭑ Not a lot of PDA; you might touch each other’s arms, or give a swift kiss.  

⭑ You buy her the most beautiful jewels, or sometimes you steal them. I feel as if you don’t care about laws. 

⭑ She loves gifts, I won’t lie - she absolutely adores getting presents 

⭑ You usually give her some a few times a week, but on big occasions, you go all out 

⭑ Your place is actually very dangerous because you have ancient artifacts and important amulets in random rooms. (You don’t get a lot of visitors, usually ,you are the visitors.) 

⭑ It was almost as if you both knew you were each other’s mate. It was unspoken for a while because it was so easy to be with her 

⭑ There wasn’t an official wedding, but you did serve the other to officiate the mating bond. 

⭑ Being with Amren is like a relief; you know with the person who you’re meant to be with. There’s no doubt, no fear that she isn’t for you. 

⭑ She’s like a puzzle piece; one that fit perfectly 

Relationship Tropes:

Two Badasses in Love Who Don’t Take Shit From Anyone

Immortal Being Who Falls In Love With Mortal x Mortal Who Has Traumatic Past 

Two Witches In Love

NSFW🔞minors dni!

⭑ Amren likes to be dominated. She likes when you tell her she’s yours, and that no one else will have her. 

⭑ She loves when you grab onto her hair and pull, making her look into your eyes. 

⭑ Amren wants you to mark her, leave bruises, scratches, hickeys, any type of marks. She wants both of you to moan each other’s names. She has no shame. 

⭑ Likes the cowgirl position; her on top of you while you fuck her with a dildo. 

⭑ She would love to use any and all types of toys 

⭑ She’s very adventurous and likes to try every kind of sexual position, toy, food, place etc for sex. 

⭑ She masturbates a lot as well; Amren has a high sex-drive and can go 3 to 4 rounds, rest for 30 minutes and start up again. 

⭑ She loves seeing you flustered, and many people think she’s automatically the ‘alpha’ in the relationship. But you very much hold sway with Amren. Yes, you know how scary she is - but you don’t care

⭑ So many think she would be the one to dominate and order you around during sex. But they are very ... very wrong. 

⭑ She does worship your body with kisses, gently running her fingers over your naked skin. She leaves goosebumps wherever she touches. 

⭑ Amren has a lot of love to give, and I do think she likes sensual, slow sex. But at some point she would want to finish. But that’s another kink; she loves being edged. 

⭑ Usually Amren sits because you’ve fucked her so hard she can’t walk straight. 

[rhysand-vs-fenrys]

Sharing Heaven (Nessian & Azriel 18+)

Summary: Nesta and Cassian invite Azriel to join them in bed, and Nesta finally gets what she’s been dreaming of all year.

** Contains ultra-minor ACOSF spoilers

For my fanfic library, visit @rhysand-vs-fenrys-vs-writing.

​​To read on Archive of Our Own, click here.

** Contains ACOSF spoilers regarding Cassian and Nesta’s relationship.

---

Sharing Heaven

“Are you sure about this?”

“I… think so?”

“Nesta- in this situation ‘I think so’ isn’t good enough.”

“Then… yes, I’m sure.”

“Really? Because that looks an awful lot like your ‘I think so’ face.”

Nesta huffed and barely resisted throwing a pillow at her husband. They were sitting on a low couch in a sprawling bedroom within the House of Wind.

Delicate white-lace curtains swayed as a warm breeze wafted through the room. A massive bed filled the far wall, made up with blankets of pale blue edged with gold and piled high with pillows at the head. The couch Nesta and Cassian sat upon was a soft, buttery yellow velvet that glittered in the light streaming through the windows.

The room was so perfect and so beautiful that it was easy to forget the sunlight and breeze were nothing more than clever glamours in an underground chamber. A chamber Nesta designed for this exact night, so that it was clear to everyone where the line was to be drawn.

Not in their bedrooms. Not up in the main area of the House. Not somewhere they lived their daily lives or went about their daily business. Somewhere with special purpose, a room within which anything might happen, but with the understanding that it went no further than the doors. 

The room was a promise- no matter what, they were still friends. Still bound by love and trust. Outside the room they were nothing more than they were now. Not a word said or a deed done inside counted out there in the real world. 

No one needed to feel shame, regret, fear, or obligation. 

Nothing had to change.

“This won’t- you’re alright with this?” Nesta asked for the hundredth time. At least.

“I don’t know what the mating bond will do,” Cassian admitted. “But I’ve been fantasizing about this as long as you have. I’m alright. A little worried you will think less of me, seeing me... you know.”

No matter how many times she asked, he always gave a thoughtful, serious answer. Nesta knew he hated repeating himself so much but she loved that he did it for her. To reassure her.

“I’ll never think less of you,” Nesta leaned up and kissed her mate’s cheek. “And.. and it won’t change how you two are around each other? How the three of us are?”

“It won’t,” Cassian said gently. Warmth filled his eyes- that his mate was concerned not only for him but for his brother. Knowing that she cared about the relationships within their family so much that the idea of the dynamic changing genuinely worried her. “He loves us both, and appreciates that we trust him with this.”

Nesta let out a long, shaking breath. She was supposed to be there when Cassian asked but- but she’d hidden in the library and avoided him like the plague after. And then business came up in the Hewn City- meaning someone needed truths extracted- and he’d only sent word to Cassian that he would still be there at the scheduled time.

He- it was hard for Nesta to even think his name. She was so nervous that she’d blocked it out of her mind entirely.

“Are you sure about this,” Cassian asked again. He held Nesta’s hands tightly, fear-pale and trembling as she was.

“I’m sure,” Nesta’s facial expression was still saying otherwise, and she hadn’t even been able to say their friend’s name in a week. “I’m just scared. But… I don’t think it’s the ‘I’m not ready’ kind of scared. It’s more like… the kind that won’t go away until we try… Are you sure?”

“I think we’re in the same boat,” he said. This was exactly why they needed a quiet, private place to try this. Somewhere they wouldn’t have to look at in their daily lives and remember what happened. Just in case something went wrong. “I-I’m still worried that I’m somehow pushing you into doing this for me.”

Nesta breathed a nervous laugh, “You remember it was my idea first, right? You aren’t pushing me.”

“That’s the exact thing a person who was being pressured into something would say,” Cassian muttered. Nesta shoved him lightly and he managed a shaky smile.

Both of them were nervous the other was forcing themselves along. They’d had countless hours of discussion on the matter, were sure in their own feelings, but now that the time had come doubt was settling in.

Nesta growled at herself in frustration and stood abruptly. She stomped across the plush cream rugs towards a square of exposed stone with twin metal loops. It was in front of one of those enchanted not-windows, and light bathed her skin as she stopped at the center of the stone.

Cassian stared at her for a long moment, drinking in the sight of her body. His wife’s breasts were largely exposed, held up and presented with a deliciously sinful webbing of opal lace and black satin. A mockery of the chest wraps she usually wore to hold them comfortably. A barely-there girdle wrapped around her hips and clipped to black lace stockings. There was no underwear in the ensemble, her sex left wholly exposed. Cassian’s gaze grew heavy at the sight of her rear, where a crystal of deepest black was just barely visible.

“Do it,” Nesta said, breathless on the cold stone. She was trembling and he had yet to scent her arousal, but she was certain. She needed him to take control and give her lust permission to form.

“As my lady wishes,” Cassian stood, his wings shifting and flaring as he stalked toward Nesta, a mask of dominant male calm settling over his face. His pants were as new as her undergarments- loose and comfortable, with short opal ribbon laced up the front.

Cassian went to a table near the window and retrieved several black leather pieces. He knelt and slipped two over her feet- ankle restraints. The padded cuffs were comfortably snug, and Cassian tightened them with familiar ease. A metal clasp on one side hooked into the floor and attached to a short chain. At most, Nesta would be able to close her legs halfway.

As he stood again, Cassian bit down on the rise of her rear. She grinned, and felt the fear slip away just a bit. Enough that her hands weren’t shaking while he attached her wrist cuffs. Black satin ropes ending in metal hooks dropped from above and Nesta let Cassian raise her arms almost as far as they would go to attach the leads. The hooks made it impossible for her to lower her arms, but the angle was gentle enough that her mate could still bit at her neck where she liked it.

Another piece of dark fabric- a mask made of the same black satin and opal lace as her underclothes- was for her eyes. Cassian gently lifted the strap of the mask around her head and settled it in place, sealing Nesta away in the dark.

“You look like a fucking sex toy,” he purred against her ear.

“Good, then you should know how to use me.”

He chuckled and slid the final bit of leather- a gag- into her mouth. A hard ring at the center held a channel for her lips to sit against, soft and gentle. The center of it held a soft ball that pinned her mouth open wide and made it almost impossible for her to speak. The main straps wrapped around her head to buckle just beneath the blindfold.

That was when Nesta’s scent began to shift at last. A nervous, excited arousal filled the air.

Cassian’s footsteps were heavy as he stalked away towards the door. He pounded on it once and Nesta shivered with a thrill of fear as he stalked in.

Azriel.

Cool air brushed gently against her exposed skin and Nesta wondered if it was the air from the hallway or Azriel’s shadows touching her.

“I brought you a gift,” that smooth, deep voice seemed to stroke the curve of her ear. In it was the promise of violent delights and sensual terrors. Nesta’s toes curled as a shiver of pure want slid through her bones. 

Cold, rough fingers stroked her neck and Nesta flinched at the sudden touch, gasping. Azriel’s answering chuckle sent a thin tendril of fear through her. The scent of arousal grew stronger. “Oh she wants this badly.” His voice shifted as he turned to Cassian, “We shouldn’t have kept her waiting this long.”

“How rude of us,” Cassian’s hand appeared on Nesta’s breast, lightly stroking a peaked nipple. Nesta felt soft, warm fabric touching her throat as Azriel closed what felt like a collar around it. “We should have bent you over the table in the dining room and let him taste your cunt while you sucked my cock all those months ago.”

Admitting the fantasy to Cassian- that she’d dreamed about similar things for weeks as she wandered the library stacks- had been a nerve wracking experience. Having it thrown back at her now with Azriel there to listen made her blood warm and her breasts tighten with need.

“This part might hurt,” Azriel whispered in her ear. Before Nesta could wonder at his words she felt a cold, sharp pressure latch around her free nipple. With the gag in she couldn’t speak, so all that came out was a soft shout.

In an instant Cassian’s fingers were on her sex, pinching the lips of it around her knot and swirling. He denied himself the moisture between her legs, but granted her pleasure to take the edge off the pain.

The pressure wasn’t unwelcome, just unexpected. Nesta liked having her breasts mauled by Cassian while he fucked her. Blind and immobile- with the added unknown of a second male- her senses were heightened. Her body more sensitive.

“Tell me when you’re ready,” Azriel’s voice was softer, more himself. He’d slipped out of their game at her yelp.

She took a steadying breath and nodded once. It tightened, and Cassian applied a bit more pressure to her knot. They fell into an easy system- Azriel waiting until Nesta signaled she was ready, and then the pressure on the clamp would increase ever so slightly. Cassian made sure her body was awake and that pain had pleasure to slice into, to help her gauge herself.

When one clamp was as far as Nesta could stand, she shook her head rather than nod. Cassian released the breast his other hand had been flicking, and a moment later something warm pinched her skin- Azriel had palmed the other clamp to ease her discomfort somewhat.

Again they proceeded with the nod, tighten, nod, tighten routine until the pressure on her breast was straddling the line between pleasure and pain right where Nesta liked it. Something cold draped across her chest and Azriel’s finger traced it lightly, showing her the chain that connected the two clamps.

“If you behave we’ll play with this too,” his voice was full of dark promises once again as he whispered in her ear.

Cassian’s voice sounded in the other, matching his brother’s for every drop of sin, “And if you don’t, we’ll still play with it.” He tugged it lightly and Nesta’s back arched as she loosed a sound somewhere between pained whimper and lust-crazed growl. Her fingers curled and she gripped the tether holding her wrists up, desperate to touch something. “I told you she’d like it.”

“I should never have doubted,” Az chuckled. 

“Go ahead, brother. Feast your eyes.” Cassian released the lips of her sex at last and took a step back. Nesta felt a drip of moisture escape onto the inside of her thighs.

“Can I touch the goods?” Azriel had touched her directly only to show her the chain between the clamps. That touch was efficient, polite even. He was now looking to play.

“You can touch anything you want.”

Were Nesta’s mouth free, she doubted she could suppress the grin of anticipation at Cassian’s words. She knew it was obvious enough when she tried to clench her thighs only to be stopped by the cuffs around her ankles.

A low laugh at that from Azriel, “Shy or eager? I don’t know what I like more.” His voice came from multiple angles at once. He was circling, his footsteps just loud enough that she would track his movement, but his shadows seemed to be echoing his words in her ears.

Or was it just her imagination.

Nesta’s head swam as his footsteps swirled in her mind, echoing and changing. She raised two fingers on her cuffed hand. A predetermined signal to Cassian that she didn’t like something.

“You’re making her dizzy, Az.” Her mate’s voice was relaxed and Nesta could just picture him leaning against the side of the bed, watching his friend circling her mostly naked form.

“My apologies,” he chuckled in her ear. Rough, broad hands slid around her from behind. One went to the base of her breast to gently cup the warm, soft skin. The other moved flat against her mound where he gently swirled the close-cropped hair between her legs. His chest pressed into her back and she felt his skin against hers, “There. How’s that?”

The contact anchored Nesta, told her where he was and let her sense the room once again. When Azriel didn’t move or speak she realized it had been a genuine question. She nodded once.

“Alright then,” he  released her and went back to circling, though his shadows no longer amplified or shifted his steps. He also kept his hand on the belt around her hips, his fingers tracing as he circled her. Sometimes they drifted down, sometimes up, like he was inspecting every inch, but the contact helped remind her where he was. Helped chase away the lingering dizziness.

A dark chuckle sounded behind her and Nesta jumped as his fingers brushed the stone at her rear hard enough to shift the pear-shaped plug inside her.

“You haven’t even seen my cock,” Azriel whispered against the sensitive curve of her ear. “Do you really think you can fit me? Did you think about me when you slid this in,” his voice grew softer and took a dangerous edge. He gently pulled and swirled the end of the plug, shifting the main force of it inside her even as the narrow metal end began to part her rear. “Did you think about how it would feel if it were me slipping into that tight little ass?” He moaned the words, drawing an equal one from Nesta as her mind bowed to them. As she shifted her hips to keep up with the swirling of the plug inside.

Something dripped onto her thigh, slow and unhurried. “She’s certainly thinking about it now,” Cassian said. “Good, you’ll need to be drenched if you expect to fit us both.”

Heat bloomed beneath Nesta’s skin as Azriel continued to rock the plug in her rear. As he started pulling at it harder, forcing her to open around the wide bulb at the top of the metal shaft. Drool dripped from her pinned mouth, but Nesta didn’t care. Not as her entire world shifted to the scent of arousal thick in the air and the widest curve of the bulb while Az slowly fucked her with it.

Her legs began to shake as shuddering pressure built inside her. Azriel pumped the plug a few more times before sliding it entirely out of her.

Nesta whimpered in aching need. 

“Should we see if I fit before inviting your mate to play?” Azriel said. His hand slid around her again, straight to her dripping core. He spread the lips of her sex and pinned her knot between two fingers, “Or do I just play with you and we see how long he can keep his hands off your body?”

Azriel’s chin rested on her shoulder, looking at Cassian as he put her pink folds on display. She moaned and began rolling her hips against his hand, using him to tease her knot while he held perfect still. Well, his hand was still. His hips ground against her rear, letting Nesta feel every inch of his considerable length straining at the seam of what felt to be very thin pants.

“Your cunt is so hot,” Azriel groaned and curled his fingers so that when Nesta rolled her hips two slipped just inside her. She cried at the contact- then again as his other hand found the chain between her breasts and gave it a tug. The sensations were almost too much. “I bet you feel fucking incredible inside.”

“She does,” Cassian’s growl was almost too deep to understand. “See for yourself.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Azriel chuckled and his hand disappeared.  He stepped back only for a moment and when he pressed against her once more his pants were gone. Nesta shuddered at the length of him, even if he wasn’t as thick as Cassian. Her ass might be the only place he could fit all the way to the hilt.

“Any last words?” Azriel whispered against her ear. He hunched down slightly to line up his cock with her sex and coat himself in her moisture.

Nesta only whimpered, her breath stilling as she felt the head of his cock press against her ass. His next words were a taunt directed at Cassian, “Why don’t you be a good mate and help your wife?”

Cassian’s answering chuckle sent her blood boiling. She heard him come to them, heard him kneel in front of her. A warm breath tickled her mound and the moment Cassian’s lips pressed against her Azriel surged forward and forced the first inch of his member into her hole.

Nesta struggled against the bonds as Cassian’s lips and tongue worked her front. Every roll of Azriel’s hips was pure torture, both grinding her against Cassian’s mouth and the sensation of him sliding in deeper. The best, most mind-shattering torture she could imagine.

Azriel’s cock stretched Nesta further than the toy had. He pressed in slowly, his instincts telling him when she was at the raw edge of pain at this new invader. It was enough to make him chuckle against her skin, “You’ve never had a male back here, have you?”

He reached up and undid the strap of Nesta’s gag. She coughed as it fell away to rest somewhere on the floor. Azriel’s hand came up to wipe at the drool that covered her chin, gathering her moisture to coat his cock a bit more.

“N-no,” she gasped. Cassian’s head crushed harder against her knot as Azriel’s arm stretched around her. She realized what position they were in- Azriel was holding Cassian’s head in place while he slipped into Nesta. “It’s for you,” she wasn’t sure if she was straining to push him in a bit further or to get away from the length slowly impaling her. “Yours.” She was beyond most words.

“Well then thank you for the gift,” Azriel gave a sharp, powerful thrust and forced two inches in one go. Nesta shouted and threw her head back against his shoulder as Cassian’s tongue slipped inside her. “I’ll be sure to use it well.”

Bit by bit Azriel slid into her. He was patient, slow, and utterly unhurried. She was a shivering, sweating mess long before she felt his pelvis press against her and Cassian’s head was finally released from her knot. Azriel was seated.

Cassian’s mouth moved from her core to the opposite side of her neck as Azriel, While the shadowsinger held still, her mate slipped a single finger inside her core and sucked at her skin. Nesta couldn’t help the moan that slid from her and her mate growled in approval.

“Is that how she likes it?” Azriel whispered to Cassian.

Her husband nodded, his mouth not leaving her neck. 

Azriel had been watching Cassian as he slid himself into Nesta. Now he lowered his lips to the side of her neck and bit down. Nesta arched her back and loosed a shuddering groan. Her hips shifted against Azriel’s cock and he stretched something deep inside of her, sending warm shivers from where they were joined all the way to her toes.

Cassian slipped a second finger inside and she almost came undone from the feeling of it. The overwhelming fit of Azriel in her rear and the strong hand of Cassian at her core.

“Start moving,” her mate growled.

Azriel obeyed. In short, controlled thrusts that grew steadily longer he started rocking his hips. Each time his pelvis met her rear he pushed harder, nearly lifting her off the floor. As he did, Cassian set a steady counter-rhythm with his own fingers, pulling at stretching at her skin. Testing to see if she could take them both. It was Cassian who would decide if Nesta could even attempt taking both of them.

“She’s so fucking tight,” Az released her neck for a moment. His skin was growing hot against Nesta’s back as his hands gripped her hips for leverage and he thrust harder.

“I love it,” Cassian said. He grabbed the chain between her breasts and gave a tug that nearly sent Nesta careening into oblivion. “When I cum it practically sprays back out of that pretty little hole. She always looks so sloppy when we’re done.”

“The best whores always do,” Azriel chuckled. Nesta knew he’d asked Cassian for a list of words or names he could use on her. Once upon a time she would have bristled at the insult, but now it was fire to her blood. 

Her grin at Azriel’s words did not escape Cassian’s notice. “She liked that,” he brought a finger slick with her own moisture up to circle her lips as Nesta panted and Azriel increased his pace. He wet her lips with it before dipping back into her body. “You like it when he calls you a whore?”

Nesta struggled for the breath to reply, “Yes.” Her words weren’t entirely directed at Cassian as Azriel bit down on her neck and slammed his cock up into her with force. “I like it.”

A third finger eased into her and Nesta began to shake. Her panting became loud gasps, Then screams as Cassian wrenched the chain attached to her nipples. The pain forced her to tighten down on his fingers and Azriel’s cock, and the latter swore. He was gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.

“Well, then let’s see what a whore can do,” Cassian grabbed her chin and kissed her fiercely, deeply. He stole precious air from her as he undid the ties on the front of his pants and stepped out of them at last.

Nesta gulped down air the moment his mouth vanished, and Azriel slowed his pace as Cassian knelt and undid the clips holding her feet to the floor. As if her legs could still support her.

Instinctively, Nesta’s legs wrapped around Cassian’s hips and Azriel swore again as the movement drew her tighter. He chuckled as he caught his breath, “You’ll never fit him in like that.”

Hands gripped Nesta’s ankles, forcing her legs back, back, back. They were transferred to another set of hands as Cassian passed her to Azriel, until the Shadowsinger was holding them behind his own back, pinning her wide open.

The head of Cassian’s cock pressed against her entrance- agony and pleasure rippled from her. He hesitated, giving her a chance to change her mind. Nesta bit her lip and nodded.

Azriel held perfectly still now as Cassian slowly worked the head of his cock into her. Normally it was hard enough- his thickness right at the edge of her endurance. But now, with another large member in her rear, pressing against him through the thin ridges of flesh between her holes, it was a whole new experience.

Nesta screamed her pleasure as he slid the first inch in. Her whole body shook as she came around Cassian and Azriel, and both males swore again. Cassian used the rippling of her core as best he could, pushing when the spasms loosened it and holding as it tightened in other areas. Nesta wasn’t even sure where one orgasm ended and the next began, or if it was just one long agony of pleasure as Cassian forced his way into her body.

“It feels so good,” he whimpered against her neck. “Az, I can feel your cock in her ass and it-” he swore.

Azriel’s hand came from her hip to hold the back of Cassian’s head. Nesta felt him stroking it, and could tell the other hand had drifted to trace the sensitive ridges of Cassian’s wings.

This was what Cassian had worried about- Nesta seeing just how much he loved the feeling of Azriel’s shaft slipping alongside his. He’d worried she would think less of him somehow- her blindfold was as much for that as it was for her.

“Does he feel good?” she managed to find the words even as that terrible and glorious pressure built to near suffocating levels. Cassian was only halfway inside her. It felt like her body was going to rip in two between the powerful males.

“He feels so good, Ness.” Cassian panted. His hands brushed against her skin and she knew he was reaching around to take hold of Azriel’s hips, to pull Az and Nesta both towards him as he struggled to seat himself.

Bit by bit Azriel relented, and only when Nesta started struggling against the pain did he release her legs to fall uselessly to the side. The change in position loosened her up just enough that with one final hard shove Nesta screamed again and found her mate all the way inside her.

It was completely unbearable. The pressure beyond the point of pleasure. She was about to tell the males to stop when Cassian pulled out until only the tip connected them.

The feeling of him move made her eyes roll up into her skull. The emptiness left in his wake was hungry and wanting. So she kept her mouth shut as he slid back into her slowly- so slowly- and that horrible, perfect pressure returned.

She forgot the world around her, forgot that she was hanging by her arms from the ceiling, forgot that she couldn’t see, could barely move- forgot her own damn name as the males began to shift inside her, grinding against one another, separated by only a bit of skin between the two holes that were driving her insane.

Whenever Cassian pulled out, Azriel would raise his hips into her. As her husband pushed back in, the Shadowsinger slid his length from her ass. Her body never even had time to register the emptiness of one hole before the cock was back and the other was hungry.

Cassian began swearing as his cock seemed to grow inside her. Azriel’s thrusts grew shorter and faster, until neither male seemed able to pull themselves out more than an inch or two. They pounded her relentlessly and Nesta screamed again, her consciousness shattering into a thousand pieces.

“Fuck, Nes-” it wasn’t Cassian who called her name first, but Azriel. The first time he’d said it since he entered the room. A new, wild pressure erupted inside her as Azriel came. Cassian barely lasted another few pumps when he felt heat trickling down his own cock and realized Azriel’s seed was releasing inside his wife.

The sensation of both males filling her nearly broke Nesta. She didn’t have it in her to climax, but she screamed again with the pleasure and pain both. Her entire body seized around them as Cassian’s hips began to buck against her with his need to fill, fill, fill. The uncontrolled frenzy of release her mate was so good at.

And then Nesta felt hollow, empty, as two wilted cocks slipped from within her.

Her body was warm and all sensations thick and fuzzy as she felt something dripping from her. Twin somethings. Another scream- this one decidedly not from pleasure- as fire ignited along her arms. As they were released from the hooks and slumped uselessly. Someone took the cuffs from her and Nesta felt herself being carried in two pairs of strong arms as the males worked together to gently transport her to the bed.

Soft blankets swallowed her. She shifted against the pillows, not caring as hands tugged her wrists again and they were freed from the cuffs to land limp against her.

“You were right,” Azriel was still panting. “She looks beautiful when she’s dripping.” There was no dark desire in his words. Just honest assessment. Exhausted as she was she felt a stirring of pride and managed to part her legs further. To clench her core and ass and send a bit more of the male’s release dripping out for them to see.

Cassian chuckled, then the bed shifted and his scent flooded over her. She parted her lips and his tongue found its way in for a quick kiss before he withdrew. Cassian settled his weight on and around her, bracing his forearms on either side of her head as he cradled her body and moved his mouth to kiss her aching shoulders. 

A soft gasp sounded against her skin and Nesta knew Cassian was getting what he’d wanted- the other thing he was nervous for her to see. It would take time. He hadn’t prepared the way she did. Nesta focused on the pulse of her blood through her veins and the pleasurable ache between her legs that could very well be debilitating in an hour or two. She felt loose and tight all at once, her throat thoroughly wrecked.

Cassian moved his mouth away from hers to rest against the pillow as he groaned. As Azriel groaned. Nesta listened to the music of their pleasure. To the slick sounds that began to grow, then slowed. Stopped- and Cassian drew a ragged, gasping breath. He was straining above her and then moaning in feral want.

And then his cock was nudging against her once again, and Cassian began to curse as he slid into the tight depths of his wife.

“You got to watch while I played the whore,” Nesta wasn’t sure where she found the energy to speak. She’d thought having just Cassian inside her after holding both him and Azriel would be easier, but instead it was like she’d become hyper-sensitive to every inch of him.

Cassian’s voice shuddered at that and Nesta forced her arms to move, breathing through the pain until she’d wrapped them around his head. To stroke his hair the way she’d felt Azriel doing. Reassuring him that he didn’t need to worry.

He would treat her no different for letting him and Azriel use her body. She would return that favor.

Cassian nodded against her neck. He was seated to the hilt but he shoved into her harder and both Nesta and Cassian whimpered. The blindfold loosened and Nesta winced at the bright light that filled her vision. The windows were fake, why hadn’t she thought to make it dark?

But darkness did spread then. The darkness of wings.

Nesta opened her eyes to the curve of two mighty Illyrian wings. Cassian’s were draped to either side, resting on the bed and out of the way, but Azriel-

Cassian’s beauty was that of uncut diamonds. Azriel’s was more controlled, contained. Nesta’s heart stumbled a bit to see his piercing gaze glassy with lust and focused wholly on her eyes. He snarled slightly and pulled his hips back, then slammed in again. Wicked amusement lit his eyes as Cassian shouted and shoved into Nesta.

Azriel was filling Cassian the same way he’d filled her. Now it was Cassian who was trapped between two fae, unable to escape the torturous pleasure as Azriel began to thrust harder. With every push into his friend, Cassian’s body was forced into Nesta’s.

Somehow her legs found the strength to wrap around Azriel and Cassian both. Barely- only her heels pressed against his sides, but Azriel humored her. Let her pull him into her husband and crush his glorious body into her own. 

For Cassian it would be torture. Every thrust into his mate caused lightning to crackle beneath his skin, but each time he pulled out it was onto Azriel’s length.

His cockhead crashing into Nesta. The notch deep in his ass that Azriel struck with every thrust.

Nesta’s arms were still around Cassian, holding him as Azriel pushed into them again and again, until it barely felt like Cassian was the one moving inside her but that beautiful male perched behind him. Nesta’s lids grew heavy against her will, and she felt her body tighten around Cassian. But it was one bridge too far. Her body stiffened around his cock and she couldn’t find release. Couldn’t muster the energy to draw it forth.

Azriel read the desperation in her eyes. He reached down and found the edge of the chain. Nesta pulled on Cassian’s head, moving him ever so slightly so that the chain wouldn’t touch.

She thought he was going to wrench it as his thrusts into Cassian became harder, rougher. As Cassian was slammed into Nesta and her mate’s shouts of pleasure filled her ears. But the Shadowsinger had another plan.

He yanked on the chain as hard and as fast as he could, just as he slammed his hips into Cassian harder than ever before. The chain went taut, Nesta screamed, and then the clamps snapped off her nipples.

Pain flooded through her chest, amplified by the release of the device at long last. That flood was enough to send her hurtling over the edge and she screamed for both males as her back arched, her core spasmed, and she came. Cassian cursed at the new tightness around his cock, but he withstood it, resisted, until Azriel grabbed his shoulders, slammed home one more time, and spilled himself inside Cassian.

Even then, the Illyrian wasn’t done. “Finish it,” Cassian snarled. He pulled out of Nesta and flipped her limp body over. Primal lust filled his eyes as he took a fistfull of his mate’s hair. Her gaze was unfocused, her body limp. Cassian held his cock and smacked her cheek with it a few times, until whatever Nesta had left in her opened her mouth and let him shove his down her throat.

Azriel quickly stroked himself as Cassian roughly pounded Nesta’s face, just the way she liked it. She timed her breaths to his thrusts, but when Azriel revived his length and shoved it once more into her ass she screamed. The vibrations around Cassian’s cock almost undid him. He held off- had to hold off.

The fantasy Nesta had shared with him- this fantasy. He wouldn’t release until she’d taken her pleasure one more time. And if anyone could drag it out of her it would be those two males. 

“How’s the mouth?” Azriel managed to muster up a bit more of that cheeky calm.

“All mine,” Cassian growled. They’d made it clear which parts of Nesta were to be shared and which were for her mate alone. “How’s the ass?”

His brother’s answering grin was feral, “All mine.”

They worked Nesta for a while before Azriel’s hand slid down to stroke the knot between her legs. He slipped two fingers inside her, swirling them in the thick wetness of Cassian’s previous release.

Azriel grunted when Nesta tightened, “She’s cumming.”

“Good,” Cassian waited until he felt another cry ripple around his cock- the warning sound she made whenever they each devoured one anothers sex simultaneously. Then Cassian let himself go. 

Four quick, rapid, uncontrolled thrusts, the scrape of her teeth against his cock, and he exploded down her throat. He felt Nesta rippling, swallowing as fast as she could while he emptied inside her mouth. Azriel cried out and shoved into her ass once again, stiff and shaking.

Not quite simultaneously, but close enough for Nesta’s desires.

When the males released her, Cassian pulling her head off his wilting cock, she barely had it in her to gasp for air. To close her mouth against the bits of release still dripping.

Azriel slid from her, but his hands kept the crushing grip on her, holding her limp body. Cassian just looked at his friend- well, his lover in this case- and nodded.

Nesta couldn’t even register the male hands on her as she was again gently lifted. As her body pressed against Cassian’s and he followed Azriel through the white door at the back of the bedroom.

Inside was a massive bathing pool- one big enough for all three to sit comfortably. Lotions, soaps, and even a tray of drinks had been set out beside the sunken tub. Azriel stepped in first. He sat on the far side while Cassian set Nesta down in the water, then came forward to hold her shoulders as her mate stripped off the collar, the lace around her breasts, her hips. Only when he’d removed all of the clothing he could reach did Cassian let himself sit.

He pulled Nesta’s body against his chest to allow Azriel to lift her legs and remove the stockings, freeing her completely.

The males were utterly destroyed, but the female between them had taken it all and given them more in return. Azriel didn’t release her other leg when he’d stripped the stocking. Instead he began to massage her foot and ankle. At her head, Cassian was doing the same to her shoulders.

Even as Nesta began to stir no one spoke. They each focused on spooling back into their own bodies. The warmth of the bath soaking into their exhausted bones. For her, the sensation of Cassian and Azriel working out the knots they’d put in her muscles. For each of them, the act of giving something without expecting anything in return.

When Azriel scooted closer, Cassian stretched out an arm and gently touched the Shadowsinger’s arm. A touch of gratitude as much as comfort. They shared a soft smile.

“Before she comes to,” Azriel said gently. Cassian nodded and slid a hand beneath Nesta, raising her so that his friend could cup her sex. Azriel sent a warm, healing power into her, the siphons on his hands flaring gently. 

Nesta would be in a bit of pain later- it was the first time her body had been used in such a way after all- but he had asked Cassian for permission to be the one to ease it somewhat. His thanks for the gift she had given them. He’d finished and was backing away when Nesta’s eyes fluttered open.

She looked up first at Cassian, then at Azriel. Both offered the same warm but exhausted smile. “Thank you,” her voice was almost entirely gone.

“Thank you,” Azriel reached over and took her hand from a distance, in case she was no longer comfortable being naked in his presence. “I enjoyed that- and you were very generous.”

Azriel was often like that in bed- taunting and dark and seductive. But when the games were over it was important for him that his partner- partners in this case- understood it was not sincere. Cassian had warned Nesta he would feel guilty for calling her a whore or delivering her delicious little hurts.

She squeezed his hand and pulled him close, until his face was inches from hers and she could tip forward to peck his cheek. No kisses allowed- that was one of the rules- but she wanted to give him that in understanding and thanks.

“Thank you too,” Cassian said. 

As Nesta began to prune, the boys helped lift her from the tub and brought her to a small vanity. Cassian toweled her dry- and used a special tool attached to the faucet of the bath to help clean her while Azriel removed the tie from her hair and began to gently ease out the tangles and snares from their exertions. 

Only when Nesta’s hair was brushed and expertly re-braided did Azriel squeeze her shoulders again, smile at her in the bathroom mirror, and clap Cassian on the back. Without another word he touched his siphons to summon his armor and hide his nudity, then strolled out of the room.

Another thing they all needed to make sure this wouldn’t impact their bonds as friends. A chance for each party to recover alone. Outside the rooms Nesta had created they wouldn’t acknowledge what was done. Not unless they all agreed to.

So Azriel left first, giving Cassian and his mate time alone. When they left the bathing room- Cassian carrying Nesta once again- the room had changed. The toys and any mess had been cleaned away by the house’s magic, and the blankets of the bed had been turned down. Nesta and Cassian would nap here, mainly so that she could recover, and dress again for the walk back to their rooms.

But there were a few things in the room that had not been provided by the magic of the House- a book, an envelope, and a plate of chilled strawberries dipped in chocolate.

The book was bound in red leather, and tied with a golden ribbon. Attached to the ribbon was a neat label saying “To Nesta”. 

On the envelope- “To Cassian”.

Cassian retrieved the items and handed Nesta the book. The plate of strawberries went between them on the bed. He fed one to his mate before eating another as he inspected his envelope. Inside was a gold-embossed slip of paper and a single sentence in that same tidy writing.

“What’s it say?” Nesta asked as she opened the book.

“‘Don’t worry, we can’t all be show-ers’,” Cassian snorted. “Prick.”

There was a pause beside him, a choking sound, and then Nesta was doubled over, sobbing with laughter. Cassian thought she was laughing at the card but he noticed the book was now open in her hands.

He’d thought Azriel left one of the romances she enjoyed or perhaps one of the adventure books he favored, but instead it was hand-written, the paragraphs neatly dated. A journal.

Cassian took the book from Nesta as she struggled for breath between the peals of laughter. He read the first section on the page. The date at the top was one over five hundred years ago, when they were still training in the Illyrian camps.

Beneath the date was simply written: ‘Cassian has fractured his left wing and dislocated his jaw. While he was exploring Velaris a cleaning crew at the House of Wind washed the windows. He thought he was landing on a balcony and hit the glass instead.’

Cassian’s eyes widened and he quickly flipped to a different page. Another date, a couple of years later.

‘Mor bet Cassian he couldn’t shoot milk out of his nose further than her. 23 inches to 17. Cassian lost.’

Azriel had given his mate a book filled with a meticulous chronicle of every embarrassing thing Cassian had ever done.

“We are never doing this again,” Cassian grumbled, slamming shut the book. 

Nesta found the energy to snatch it out of his hands and open it again, reading with a wild gleam in her eyes, “Oh, we’re doing this again. We are absolutely doing this again.”

Cassian’s heart soared to hear her say that- but as Nesta adjusted the book he caught sight of something shimmering into existence on the cover. Words bright and bold and oh-so threatening:

‘VOLUME 1’

“Prick.”

The cover shimmered again. Cassian ground his teeth in a snarl-

‘VOLUME 1… OF 9’

[talkfantasytome]

'Twas Never Meant to Be - An Opinion

I have a lot of thoughts about this, and really need to get them out. So, let's talk about Elain and Azriel.

First off, I want to warn you, this post is a beast. Like, over 7.5k words beast. It just kept going. I'm sorry, but I didn't know what to take out and, honestly, I didn't want to spend a lot of time heavily editing it. Tread knowingly. I will not be offended if anyone chooses not to read it, or not to read it all.

Secondly, I want to say that this post is not meant to be a pro-Gwynriel or pro-Elucian post. Regardless of my personal ships, I want to explain why I, personally, do not believe Elain and Azriel would be right for each other. And these reasonings go far beyond "because I'd prefer them with someone else". In fact, these beliefs and feelings are first and foremost in my mind when considering all three of these ships, and any feelings I may or may not have on other ships are always second to my belief that they would not be right together. I will do my best to keep Gwyn and Lucien out of the comparison, unless using them as a way to point to something that would be wrong between Elain and Azriel - versus stating any reason why the other would be right.

The first two reasons I will share are ones I have been holding on to for quite a while, and have only become stronger with more content (Silver Flames). I have, personally, not seen much around these two thoughts, but recognize that they may be out there already, as there is no new thought under the sun. So, here goes:

Step Away From the Characters

Honestly, my first reason really has nothing to do with the characters themselves at all, but it's something I can't get out of my head. It's a personal thing, I know, as everyone might see it differently, but I can't help but feel like the three brothers ending up with the three sisters would be too perfect, too convenient.

I know that it's a shit argument when talking about an SJM book, and the more I read about the series, and the more books that come out within it, the more I recognize this. It makes me sad. But personally, I can't get behind this storyline, this ending that is so perfect it makes my skin crawl. It's not how life works, and it doesn't really make sense. If it were three adoptive sisters, as the bat boys are, it would actually make more sense, because it would stand to reason that you would have a two groups that mirror each other. That one girl who mirrored Rhys, let's say, then befriended to the point of sisterhood ones that mirrored the boys that Rhys befriended to the point of brotherhood. But Nesta, Elain, and Feyre are sisters by blood, not by choice, and so it isn't an automatic that they would be that reflection to the boys. And even though the boys lived together, and weren't fully brought together by choice as much as Mrs. Rhys's mother, they still chose to stay together and be brothers.

We have never, not fully, seen the Archerons make those same choices. These boys live together (or used to), work together, truly share their lives. The Archerons don't. The girls were disconnected before becoming Fae, and they are still disconnected after it. You see it more clearly with Nesta, of course, trying to stay away from the group, stay separate. But you see it with Feyre and Elain too. You see how Elain practically gives up on Nesta, and how Feyre discredits and dismisses Elain as anything more than just a kind soul who likes to garden. You can't, for two seconds, convince me that the Archerons have as similar or as bonded relationships to each other as the bat boys, and that alone tells us that we should not expect them to mirror the boys.

I would also like to note, looking back at the characters for a second, that it has been observed by others how Feyre and Nesta do seem to have similar energies a lot. On top of that, you could argue that Nesta mirrors all three bat boys in one way or another. It's one theory as to why she and Rhys struggle so much with each other, because they're too similar. And, you can't convince me that Az and Nesta don't share a bond because of their own similarities. Nesta's fire was cold as ice. Rhys once observed Azriels rage as an 'icy rage'. I don't think I need to mention how Nesta mirrors Cassian, but it's there too. So, the fact that she would be the sister who ended up with a mate from the Night Court, one of these three brothers, just made a lot of sense. But Elain, who is so different from her sisters, she doesn't have that same energy. It's not a bad thing, but it helps make sense why she would be the one with a mate from outside this Court.

Beyond this, however, I still struggle with the three and three come together concept. And that's coming from someone who actually has, within her family, a story of two brothers marrying two sisters - my great grandparents (or great great, I can never remember). So, I know stuff like this does happen, though admittedly my only experience is with two and two, and naturally I do believe that the likelihood of the full group being with the full other group goes down with each additional number. Regardless of that, though, it is an author's job to tell a story that we can connect to, and having such convenient and perfect endings makes it difficult to do just that. Because life isn't like that.

So I struggle with the concept of this. Like I said, the more I get to know these books, this series, the more I understand that this is not a great argument for why Elain and Azriel aren't endgame considering how other things have played out, but I still think it's a good argument for why they shouldn't be. However, I would also say that the argument that they will end up together because it's three brothers and three sisters is completely off base and illogical, for reasons I've mentioned above. What is the purpose of that? How does that drive the plot and the story and world? How does it connect us to them better? It doesn't. All it does is be just a convenient little bow that has no true purpose, unless there is true purpose as to why each sister ended up with each brother. And I don't really see a purpose as to why Elain would end up with Az except that they're both the last sibling, and that they currently like each other. But that doesn't mean they're right for each other, and I don't see how them being together will spur the story and the world forward the way Feyre and Rhys did, and the way Nesta and Cassian can and/or will.

As someone who dabbles in writing, I have thought about these types of things, and I'm always adjusting plans and thoughts when I realize I've gone into that too perfect la la land, and I'd like to believe that all writers do that. SJM has had some convenient endings, but I will say I've not yet felt like any ending was just too perfect. The closest was, of course, ACOWAR. But even then, you still had threads, misunderstandings, questions, and things you weren't happy about. Yes, the ending felt a bit perfect, but we still lost the Bone Carver, Mr. Archeron, the Suriel, etc. There were still things that made it less than completely perfect. And much of what was done in the ending did move this story forward, and provide the opening for what we are now getting. And, in the same vein, I like to think that SJM would recognize how this would be too much. But, I don't hold out a lot of hope on this reasoning alone, it's really just something I had to get off my chest.

Share Life With Me

This next point is huge for me, in my mind. Again, it is based off of my own personal opinions of some characters, as well, so I do understand that some people may not agree with this argument. That's fine, but you will not sway me.

It all comes down to one thing. What does Az want?

In the Az POV chapter we are finally told, out right, that he does want Elain. But, my question - does he really?

I have been thinking about this since long before Silver Flames, since we all knew Az had a crush, but it wasn't as cemented until Silver Flames came out, and we saw how Nesta and Cassian would develop as a couple. Because, and here's the kicker, I don't believe Az actually wants Elain.

Yes, you read that right. I know he thinks he wants Elain. I know he believes she's kind and beautiful. And I recognize that there was a sexual tension there - I'm not blind. But I don't believe that Elain is the end goal Azriel is actually looking for.

I believe that she is a representation of that end goal.

This mostly comes down to his conversation with Rhys, his belief about the Cauldron:

"The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak the words aloud.

Okay, first - Az, please see point above. Also, I can't help but feel like SJM put that in here almost to show that this isn't actually a valid argument.

Second, let's dissect that argument for a moment. Now, perhaps Az is just trying to find what he considers a more 'objective' reason for why Elain should be his, why they should be together. However, if that were the case, then why would he have never dared speak those words aloud? Most likely because he knows it's not a solid argument, and logical Az knows this. But this is 2 AM, you just stopped me from kissing the girl I fancy Az, and he definitely is not being his most logical self.

It's also not a logical or good argument because of one simple word. Given. "…the third was given to another." Az, you're better than this. I truly want to believe you're better than this. I understand that the mating bond is weird, and inherently at least slightly sexist, but that doesn't give any male the right to really look at it that way. Especially when you consider the explanation that the mating bond will be present between two perfect equals. This is seen in ACOMAF when Feyre can't believe Rhys would be her mate, because that's what it would mean, that she's his equal. This also paints Elain as an object, which, no matter what anyone's feelings are toward the character, is not okay. She is a person. A fictional one, but still a person, she cannot be given unless she chooses to give herself. The Cauldron simply dictated who it believes is best for her, and vice versa. I'm not saying the Cauldron was right, or that she and Lucien would be good together, but that's what the mating bond is. To argue that the Cauldron was wrong because two brothers got two of the sisters, but the third was given to another is inherently wrong, because Elain cannot be given away.

It also shows that maybe Az really isn't truly seeing Elain for who she is, if he is thinking of it this way. I do believe that Az is a feminist, or, at least, more of a feminist than most of the males in Prythian (which, sadly, doesn't seem to be saying much). So I don't believe this is a comment based on a sexism in Az we haven't seen yet, I truly don't. I believe that it is a comment made by someone whose judgement is clouded, and who is, as I stated earlier, using Elain as a representation of what he's really looking for. He seems to idolize her, put her on a pedestal, believe that she is all light, all good. (Az, please see my previous post on that little nugget.) He objectifies her not because he truly believes she is an object, but because she has become a symbol in his mind - she is not the person Elain to him. She is the one he should have, the one who will bring him what he wants. Note I didn't say the one he wants. Whenever a person puts another on a pedestal the way Az has with Elain, whenever someone idolizes them, or believes that said person will fix all of their woes, they are subconsciously objectifying them. That being is no longer seen as a true person, with all the flaws and struggles and ugly parts. They are something else. And those types of feelings about another person never end in a good relationship, because at least one side is always expecting too much from the other, and they rarely learn to cope with what they didn't expect. And, for the record, you should never really be 'coping' with your partners flaws, but that's a conversation for another day.

Beyond being not a truly logical argument, and showing us how Azriel has actually objectified Elain in his mind, I also believe this statement gives us insight into what Az actually wants. He could have said a number of things to express a belief (or desire) that the Cauldron was wrong. He could have talked about his feelings for Elain. About how he thinks their personalities are too compatible for them to not be rightfully mates. Pretty much, he could have said something about Elain, and how they are right together because of who they are.

But he didn't.

Instead, Az brought up his two brothers and their mates. How they each got one, so surely the third should be his. And why did he do this? Again, maybe 2 AM Az who had lost his logic just thought this was an objective reason. But I think there's more to it than that. I think he brought up those other relationships as a way to point toward what it is he really wants. Because that's what's on his mind. It's not that Elain is perfect for him, that she is everything he could have ever hoped for in a female. It's that she is the sister of his brother's two mates, and he wants what his brothers have. So, clearly, that must mean that it's Elain who can give him that.

Again, Az, please read my first point. Because that's not a guarantee just because they're related.

Now, I imagine most people are saying, "Well, duh. We all know he wants what they have. He said so earlier on in the chapter." And he did:

Azriel couldn't stop it. The envy in his chest. Of Cassian, and Rhys.

So, it's not new. But, this argument he provided highlights that so specifically. He wants what his brothers have. Not a mate, per se. No. What they have.

But, wait, a mate is what they have. What are you saying?

Yes, a mate is what each of them have. But, as we know, not all mates are perfect for each other. Rhys and Feyre, and Cassian and Nesta are both examples of how right the mating bond can be. But, let's instead look at what they both have, in points, instead of just saying they have a mate. Here are, from my interpretation, the main common aspects of these two relationships:

Love. Sure, Nesta and Cassian hadn't said it yet. But, yes, they love each other, they're just both stubborn and scared and maybe not ready to say it.

Heavy sexual attraction and chemistry. This may not always be the most important piece of a relationship, but it's blatant in both of theirs, and it's clear that Az wants that as well. Which is fair.

Friendship. It's hard to see it at times, because these books are so much about the romance, but I do believe that both couples are truly friends who like to spend time together. Who can have fun together. We don't get to see this enough - and I do wish we saw more of it - but it is there. It's there when Cassian throws his head back laughing at something Nesta said. Or when Rhys is thrilled when sassy Feyre appears. And yes, it is in part the mating bond, making them want to be near each other, but they still enjoy that time together. Mates who aren't right for each other wouldn't.

True partners. In these two relationships, they are more than just each other's mate, lover, friend. They are and/or are becoming partners. In their relationships, Rhys and Cass have found a female who they can share their lives with. Completely and fully. In Feyre, Rhys has found a High Lady, a female who is his true equal, who can rule the Court with him. They work together, plan together. And Rhys can come home at night and tell her everything about his day. In Nesta, Cass has found someone who, I believe, will grow to command with him. Likely female units, but she is still mirroring Cass in that way. She may not become his true equal in terms of being Commander of the Night Court, but she would still be his partner. He will still be able to strategize with her, the two working together to determine where each unit will go. He will command the Illyrians, and by his side she will command the Valkyries. And he can come home, at the end of the day, and tell her everything about his day.

It's this last piece that I want to really dig into, because that is what separates Rhys and Cassian's relationships from others we have seen, in my opinion, and thus that is what Az wants. It's not just a mate, he wants what his brothers have, a true partner who he can fully share his life with. Because that is what makes their relationships so special.

And, in the end, I do not believe Elain can be that for him.

I am not trying to discredit Elain, or say that she is simple, or that she can't do anything but garden and be a housewife. No. That is not my point. I do think, however, that what it would entail to be a true partner to Az is something she does not want to do. And that is okay! It is okay for her to want to garden and bake. It's okay to not wish to be involved in all of the plotting and planning and little missions and quests that the Inner Circle does. It's okay to not want to train. To be happy as you are.

But she can't do both. She can't be a true partner to Azriel and remain as she is. Now, perhaps she does want more, and I have misread her. It's possible, I am not infallible. However, she hasn't ever truly shown us anything that tells me otherwise. And, no, I don't believe her offering to find the Dread Trove in Silver Flames counts as I don't believe she offered to do so out of the goodness of her heart or because she wanted to do it. I believe she wanted to prove Nesta wrong. (Again, you can see this in my previous post.) So, to be a true partner to Azriel, she may have to change everything that she is. And that's not fair to her.

And, even if I am way off on a lot of this. Even if she does want to do more for the Night Court. There is one thing that we have learned about Elain:

She does not wish to fight, she does not wish to train.

I'm sorry, you can't convince me otherwise. Not when she has had ample opportunity to do so in the year, year and a half since Hybern, and still hasn't. It was different with Nesta, who was dealing with a lot of other things, but Elain has been, for the most part, fairly healthy. Her not training is her choice because of who she is.

Again, this is okay! I am not insulting Elain for this, not at all. I get it. I don't particularly love working out - the main exercise I get is from rock climbing twice a week, that's it. So I get it. However, you cannot work with Azriel and not be trained, not know how to fight. Even if Elain could be silent, or infiltrate courts easily, and learn secrets, you need those skills, even if it's just a fallback to ensure you can escape should something go wrong. But it also helps to understand these types of things, to understand battle and politics and everything else. It's not about whether she can do this, it's about whether she wants to do this, and I'm not sure she does. So she would either have to change who she is, and be unhappy to become Az's partner, or she wouldn't be able to be that. And, admittedly, if she were unhappy, he still wouldn't have what his brothers have.

However, on top of that, I also don't know if Azriel would let Elain be his true partner. Think about when they're at dinner, talking about how Nesta needs to scry, and how they'll have to rely on Elain if she doesn't - what Azriel says.

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

Sidebar - I've not seen anyone talk about how Cassian was absolutely in the right for defending Nesta. So I did. You can see my soap box here.

Now, back to the point. This is one example of how Az is constantly trying to protect Elain from, well, kinda everything. So, even if Elain did want to do all of those things, would Az even be okay with it? He obviously can't stop her from training or anything like that - and if he tries should she ever want to, he's dead to me. But, would he really share his life with her? Tell her about those 'unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars'? I don't believe he would. I don't believe he could truly handle her working with him because, again, he has put her on this pedestal of beauty and grace and goodness (that she may not have). And the things he does are not good, at least not by his standards. He wouldn't be able to truly include her until he started to look at her as her own person again, which I also don't see happening. And, even then, he still wouldn't want to share with her all he'd done, believing her likely to judge those things, to be too pure to even hear about them. Regardless of whether that is true or not about Elain, it would hinder him from being able to have a true partner in her. When Azriel comes home at night, he would not tell her everything about his day.

Love Yourself, Az

This, I know for a fact, is not a new revelation. I have seen a lot about this, and have seen some posts that even helped me along with this as well, but I can't not address Az's shadows. I would link to the first post I saw about this but, admittedly, I can't find it. So, just know, I'm not the only one thinking this, and I recognize that some of this may come off as similar to others, but I couldn't not talk about this because it just feels so important.

Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around.

It wasn't until the Azriel POV chapter that I fully understood what lay behind the fact that Az's shadows would retreat around Elain, when we get a direct comparison to how they react to Gwyn's breath:

"How was the party?" Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music.

Before this, I didn't realize how bad a sign it is, for his shadows to retreat. I just thought they did that when he was around someone he was attracted to, almost as a sense that the other person lightened him up. But, with this comparison, and in general what we see from Az when around Elain, I see just how wrong I was. His shadows hiding isn't a sign of him lightening up - no, it's a sign of him retreating more into himself, trying to be something that he isn't around that person, in the hopes that they'll accept him if he is.

In the end, it's toxic.

He can't be who he truly is around Elain. That's not something that will lead to a healthy, happy relationship. He may have the girl he thinks he wants, but he won't have the relationship we all know he is desperate for. Whereas, around Gwyn, we see his shadows reach out to another person, jump out, dance with her breath, sing to her. He is able to fully embrace who he is around her. He will be able to be himself with her, love himself with her. And whether or not Gwyn is the right person to him, what this tells us is that Elain can't be that person. That she, like Mor, would be toxic to Az.

On top of that, I can't not point out the word usage here.

While I did observe this on my own, I am not the first to point it out - pagesofmoonlight talks about this in detail, about the usage of the term 'skittered' in regards to how the shadows retreat from Elain. It's not just a general hiding, or even a 'lightening' of Az, as I once thought. It's a gut reaction to her, her breath. They run from her. When I read that word, I literally picture a wave of something, and the shadows seeing it and running from it in fear.

Similarly, in comparison, with Gwyn's breath, the shadows 'darted' out to it. That, also, is not just a general they reached out to it for warmth or contact. Now, they darted - that is a very quick move, often done with a need or desire to get to where you're going as quickly as possible. The shadows needed or wanted to be with that breath, so they darted to it.

Like I said, this post isn't meant to be promoting one ship over Elain and Azriel. But what Gwyn provides here is a comparison, is a sign of what could and should be, whether with her or another person. Even if she isn't endgame, she shows us this problem between Elain and Azriel.

Home is Where You Shine

This entire post, which has become MASSIVE, has been very focused on Azriel, and why Elain is not right for him. But I want to touch on a reason why Az isn't right for Elain.

Azriel is a part of the Night Court. It is his home. It is where he belongs. He fits here, it is right for him. He can and does fine here. I don't think anyone can deny this. But Elain - she does not.

First, let's look at when Nesta is in the Spring Court.

Nesta’s throat constricted, and she surveyed the swaying cherry blossoms overhead. Elain would love this place. So many flowers, all in bloom, so much green—the light, vibrant green of new grass—so many birds singing and such warm, buttery sunshine. Nesta felt like a storm cloud standing amid it all. But Elain … The Spring Court had been made for someone like her.

I'm not saying Elain will end up in the Spring Court, but I do believe it is telling that Nesta would think about another court this way. We've not, to my recollection, really ever seen another character think about how well someone would fit in a different court. Feyre did, if I remember correctly, mention enjoying other courts at times, thinking they were beautiful, but never did she think about how right someone within her court would be in a different court. Because no one else in the Inner Circle would fit so well in another court. For whatever reason it is, everyone else is perfectly suited for the Night Court, and they can handle it.

It takes a lot to be a part of the Night Court. The masks they all wear, the reputation they have, the responsibilities that fall on their shoulders. It's not an insult or an attack on any character to say that they may not fit there, that they may be more in tune with the beauty of Spring, the warmth of Summer, the light of Day. And Elain, who is gentle and kind and not one to pretend to be what she isn't - likely because she's never felt the need to - I can understand how it would be hard.

Secondly, and I know it's a point of contention, and a well-discussed piece of Silver Flames, but I do want to talk about the Solstice Ball, and Cassian's observations.

Elain in black was ridiculous. Yes, she was beautiful, but the color of her long-sleeved, modest gown leeched the brightness from her face. It wore her, rather than the other way around. And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her. But she hadn’t hesitated to come. When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed. So Elain had let her golden-brown hair down tonight, and pinned it back with twin combs of pearl. He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … It sucked the life from her.

I will try not to go too far into the information about Elain in the black dress, as it's been discussed a lot from both sides, though I do think it is telling, because Cassian isn't just saying it's the one dress. It's very specific about how Elainin black was ridiculous, not that dress. It may seem shallow, but in the end, black is a crucial color in the Night Court, and that type of symbolism is often used to depict things just like this. It would not be the first time, and it certainly won't be the last that a writer uses color this way. However, I have seen a number of posts about this, on both sides, and I do understand both arguments, even if I disagree with one because I don't think it's meant to just be a skewed POV.

I would like to note, however, that the main argument I've seen is that there was once another time Elain was described in a dress that did little to complement her, but it's a very different description. That other time, it's mentioned specifically that the dress and color/shade of the dress did little to complement her 'sallow skin'. First of all, this is specifically discussing how the color didn't work with her skin, not how the color 'drained the life out of her'. Secondly, I would say it is very important to note that 'sallow' means "of a sickly, yellowish or lightish brown color". It is not discussing her skin as it typically is, but how it is when she was in the midst of her own depression after becoming High Fae. It's not that the dress didn't complement her, it's just that it didn't help make her skin look better than the sickly state it was currently in. Whereas, in this reflection, Elain is healthy, and still the black is draining her. Not the dress, not the shade - black. Point blank.

It's also important to recognize that this isn't meant to insult Elain, I believe it is a symbol of how she doesn't shine in the Night Court, how this court could potentially 'suck the life out of her'. Yes, it's just a dress. Yes, there's a chance they wanted her to look plain, but I don't believe that.

They were always going to have Nesta dance with Eris, and they all knew that, despite Elain's beauty, and no matter how lovely she looked, Eris would gravitate to Nesta. He'd already shown interest in her, he'd already become intrigued. He looked at Elain first, I believe, to get a look at his brother's mate. Because he wasn't looking at Elain with interest. No, it was an 'assessing gaze'. There was no reason to make Elain look plain. In fact, there was every reason to make sure she looked just as beautiful as Nesta. Think about what Cassian said just before this:

Both sisters wore black. Both walked behind Rhys and Feyre, a silent indicator that they were a part of the royal family. Had mighty powers of their own. They’d planned it that way, wanting Eris to see for himself how valuable Nesta was.

Why would they want her to look plain, considering this? They wanted Nesta and Elain to walk in the procession behind Feyre and Rhys, as a sign, a symbol. Yes, they wanted Eris to see and understand how valuable Nesta was, as it is said, but they didn't want Elain to look any less valuable. First, doing so would have made Nesta look less valuable by comparison. But, on top of that, I highly doubt they had any fears that Eris would prefer Elain - if they believed Eris about Lucien, then I think they'd believe that Eris wouldn't wish to take away his brother's mate. In fact, I imagine Eris would more likely help Lucien with Elain - but, that just be my Eris stan status coming out.

What is clear is that it was purposeful that they put both Nesta and Elain in black, as a symbol that they are a part of this family. My guess is that they found a dress for Elain that did her the most justice, and that she was comfortable wearing but, in the end, black just doesn't work on her. And is that fact not telling when that is the color of the family?

While this was in draft mode, I also found this post from yazthebookish, who goes deeper into this, and how it wasn't just Cassian who observed how ridiculous Nesta looked in black. So, for those who want to talk about how it is a skewed perspective, there were actually three that made this observation, and I absolutely agree that SJM wouldn't shove this in there solely to say that they purposefully tried to make sure Nesta outshone Elain. As they pointed out, Nesta is gorgeous in her own right. Cassian met her and Elain together, and he was instantly drawn to Nesta. As I mentioned earlier, Eris has been intrigued by her since long before this - see the High Lords meeting in ACOWAR. Helion would gladly get into her leathers, and while I'm aware that's not saying much, his focus on her is slightly higher than you see it on others he would also slide into bed with. She doesn't need Elain to dull herself down to shine.

I also think the one observation about how the black 'wore her' matters. It makes me wonder more about this court, both the general Night Court, and the people in the Inner Circle. Is the court wearing her? Is it sucking the life out of her? Is this why we don't see as much spine from Elain? We got some in this book, but it was all in an attempt to prove she belongs to this court. Something she feels the need to do, as we see in Cassian's reflection:

When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed.

…but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … It sucked the life from her.

First of all, just quickly, I want to mention the ellipses before it says 'it sucked the life from her', and what came right before that. Is Cassian talking about the black? Or is he talking about being a part of this court? I don't have the answer, just food for thought.

I can't help but notice that Elain seems to feel the need to constantly prove, declare, and claim that she is part of this court. She has to push her way through, and while I know it's in part because so many people try to protect her, I think it's more than that. I believe Elain wants to be a part of the Night Court, but in the end it's not suited to her, and so she has to force her way in, when even Nesta, who everyone has been so displeased with, manages to fall in much easier. It's not because they don't like Elain, that's obvious. I believe it's because, in the end, they all see it.

It reminds me a lot of Tywin Lannister's quote from GoT (TV series, I won't read the books until George RR Martin finishes them):

Any man who must say, "I am the King", is no true king.

Could you not adjust this to: "Any person who must say, 'I am part of this court', is not truly part of this court."

I don't think Nesta has once said that. Feyre, maybe, but not in the same way as much as in letting certain people outside the court know. But, to have to say that within the court - it signifies that either you, yourself, don't believe yourself part of the court, or that maybe you aren't truly. Or that you are, but you recognize that maybe it's not the right fit, even if you really want it to be.

In the end, while I don't think Elain can't fit or find a nice life in the Night Court, the final point is that she doesn't shine in the Night Court. And that's not the same as saying she fully doesn't belong. But, shouldn't home be a place where you shine? Where you can be everything you are, and it is absolutely right? Isn't that what Nesta found in Silver Flames, in the House, with Cassian, and Gwyn, and Emerie,…and the House? She didn't have to be anything other than who she was, with any of them, and she still found a place that not only provided her comfort, but where she could truly shine. And she's found it in the Night Court, as well.

Elain hasn't. And maybe that's just because we haven't seen her story play out yet. I'm not so stuck up to believe there's no way I could be wrong. In fact, what bugs me the most about a lot of posts around these different beliefs is the use of 'when' instead of 'if', because no one wants to admit that, at this point in time, no matter what side you're on, it very much is an 'if'. None of us know what SJM has planned. All we can do is use the information we've been given to make as educated a guess as possible. This is mine, and SJM may prove me completely wrong, and that's okay. She may end up giving Elain a more similar arc to Nesta, and show how she develops and grows into someone who flourishes in the Night Court with Az by her side, and should she do that, I hope it's in a way I can understand and not something poorly developed and difficult to grasp.

A Mate is A Mate is A Mate

I won't talk too much about how she and Azriel aren't mates and how that automatically means they couldn't work. It could, in concept. I won't address the theories about her ending up with multiple mates. I do not agree with these theories, as they conflict with the canon we have. Until SJM puts out canon information that can explain a contradiction to what we've been given, any theory that truly contradicts the canon provided I will not consider, whether I like it or not. Multiple mates is not a thing. Being able to sever the mating bond so that someone can have a new mate is not a thing. I do recognize that females can reject the mating bond, and I am not saying whether or not I think Elain should or shouldn't do this with Lucien. Nor am I saying that having a story where someone does reject the mating bond to see how that plays out wouldn't be great.

I will point out, however, that it is often discussed as a thing females do. Females reject the mating bond. Males who have a female that rejected the mating bond grow incredibly uncomfortable, and they truly struggle.

...there will always be a ... tug. For the females, it is usually easier to ignore, but the males ... It can drive them mad.

I'm not going to include all the stuff about males thinking their mate belongs to them. Grow up, Prythian. Get with the program. But, considering this, considering the other pieces we get, I do not know if a male can be with another person, truly, in a loving relationship if he has a mate. Maybe one day, years and years and years after the rejection. Or maybe, if his mate doesn't fit his preferences - if that is a thing (and honestly, we don't yet know the status of same-sex mates, but if they are a thing - please let them be - then I have a harder time believing that those who have specific preferences would end up in a mating pair with the wrong gender).

I am not saying this to say that Elain and Lucien should be together. I am saying this because, considering all these things, right now, canon information essentially tells us that, should Az find his mate, he will go to her, need to be around her. Think about Cassian when Feyre asked why he bothers with Nesta:

Because I can't stay away.

Think about how Lucien couldn't help but try to find Elain, despite direct orders of being told not to. Or about how the second Rhys heard Feyre say 'no' in her mind to Tamlin, he was there to take her away. They just can't help it. The mating bond has a stronger pull on males.

And, maybe Az would be able to deny the bond. To reject it himself, who knows. But, based on everything we've been told, that would be incredibly difficult. And, considering how much he wants what his brothers have, would he want to?

Obviously, there is reason to believe Az does have a mate, and we've met her. And I know some people disagree with this. I would be interested to hear any theories about why he and Gwyn aren't mates, so long as they don't involve Elain. It's not that I have anything against her, it's just that those arguments don't actually point to Gwyn and Az not being mates, just that the person believes Elain and Az belong together regardless, which is not an argument for why they're not mates. But if there are any reasons or signs found in the books and canon information that distinctly point against Gwyn and Az being mates, then I'm open to hearing those points. And, as I mentioned, I do not entertain any canon-conflicting theories, such as the multiple mates one.

As it stands, though, I do think we have been directed toward the idea that Gwyn and Az are mates, and can believe that the mating bond will snap into place. Once it does, I have a hard time believing Az will actually be able to stay away. And that, even if Gwyn ends up rejecting that bond, I don't know that he'll be able to be with Elain after it, knowing Elain isn't his first choice.

Final Thoughts

Like I said earlier, I'm not against Elain rejecting the mating bond, or anyone doing so. I will say this, though - how much more powerful would it be to have someone reject the mating bond not because they wish to be with someone else, but just because they do not wish to be with that person? Is it not more empowering to see a female (or male, if they can do it) choose to be single, and live their life as they are solely because they just do not wish to be with that person? Instead of it being more of an, 'well, it's just, I'd rather be with him'. Sadly, I do not think Elain is set up to be that person. Gwyn could, potentially, be, though I'll admit I don't believe it, considering the attention Gwyn pays to him. But I do think it's worth noting that, in my opinion, the mating bond can be rejected even if there is not another male in the picture.

However, despite all the questions and uncertainties, until we get answers, this is my personal view, based on what I've seen in the books, and how I've interpreted it. I personally feel that, regardless of who I hope ends up with whom, SJM has placed a number of clues and hints to show that Elain and Azriel aren't meant to be together, that they wouldn't be right together. And that, if they were to be together, the relationship would likely be unhealthy, and potentially toxic.

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

This post is also not meant to insult or attack Elain in any way, nor Azriel. Nor am I trying to insult or attack those who ship them together. We are all welcome to our own opinions. I promise to respect yours, please respect mine.

[gwynrielendgame]

Gwynriel one shot

I wrote another fanfic before this one. Each can be stand alones, but I wrote this one awhile ago with the intent that this specific scene happens before the mate bond snaps into place for them. I like the idea of the necklace causing major drama, but I also think Gwyn is a levelheaded person which is where the inspiration for this scene came from. Enjoy!

Nesta had insisted on a dinner party for Gwyn's birthday. Gwyn hadn't wanted a celebration. This day had been one shared with her sister. The sister she had failed. She no longer found this day worth celebrating. She was not worthy of this day. Not without her sister by her side. She found she couldn't deny Nesta though. Not when her and Emerie bounced off chattering excitedly about the night they would plan for her. Even the house flickered with excitement.

Gwyn stared at her reflection. It was so different than what she was used to. She borrowed one of Nesta's more modest dresses for the occasion. It was still much tighter than her priestess robes and showed much more of her collar bone than her fighting leathers had. She left her hair down, mostly to cover the parts of her shoulders that the dress didn't. The final adornment to her ensemble for the night was the dainty necklace given by an anonymous friend.

Gwyn smiled at the memory of Clotho handing her the necklace. Gwyn hadn't realized why the piece of jewelry was important to her. Just that it was. The evening would be fine she reassured herself. She would not allow her thoughts to stray to Catrin. Catrin was gone and she had to accept that. Gwyn stifled a laugh at the memory of previous birthdays. Catrin was a notoriously bad gift giver and even though she knew Gwyn better than anyone, her gifts were never sentimental. One year she got Gwyn a book of songs which would have been wonderful if Gwyn did not already have that exact same book. A book that she had shown Catrin out of sheer excitement when she originally got it.

Gwyn found herself walking up the stairs to the house of wind. She stopped right outside the dining room. She just needed one moment to compose herself. A shadow whipped out as if to alert her of Azriel's presence. She smiled at the shadow before turning to the Shadowsinger. His face was unreadable per usual, but he was staring at her with a new sort of intensity.

"I just needed a moment before the chaos ensues." Gwyn felt the need to explain why she was staring at the door to the dining room. Azriel nodded his head in understanding. He knew better than anyone how overwhelming his family could be.

"Happy birthday Gywneth." He gave his normal smile as he said the words. It was the only smile he gave out. Could barely call it a smile considering it was the smallest upturn of the corner of his mouth. It was enough to ease the anxiety blooming in Gwyn's chest.

"Thank you." She planted a large smile on her face and opened the door to the dining room. She was immediately bombarded by her two best friends.

"I knew that dress would look amazing on you." Nesta smirked. Gwyn had outwardly refused the dress at first. Claiming it would not look half as good on Gwyn as it did on the more petite Archeron sister.

"You look beautiful Gwyn!" Emerie gushed. She looked as though she was going to cry and Gwyn couldn't help but poke fun at her.

"Are you going to cry, mother?" Gwyn's light jesting was returned with an elbow to the ribs.

"We are going to warn you now though, you can't open your gift until tonight. We are all sleeping in the library. I already have it set up for the three of us." Nesta was giving Gwyn the warm smile that always made her feel accepted. She had found a sister in Nesta. Their relationship was different than that of the one with her twin yet it made Gwyn's chest squeeze happily. Her relationship with Emerie was much the same. She knew tonight would be draining and wanted nothing else but to go to her room alone after this dinner. She never could deny Nesta and Emerie especially when they teamed up like this.

"Sounds fun!" She emphasized the words, trying to make herself sound excited.

"Happy birthday Gwyn!" Cassian shouted from where he stood across the room. He lifted his drink to her. Suddenly a wine glass appeared in her hand. She whispered her thanks to the house.

"Gwyn you look lovely!" Feyre walked over to give Gwyn a hug which was ultimately awkward since Nyx was resting on her hip and he just wanted to pull Gwyn's hair. Rhysand appeared next to Feyre. He also lifted his glass to Gwyn.

"Nesta demanded extravagance for you and I couldn't exactly say no. Only the good alcohol for tonight." He sent the priestess a wink. Once again the thought of her sister crowded her mind. Those thoughts were always ready to remind her of what she deserved. Good wine was not one of them.

"Thank you everyone. It means a lot." Gwyn made sure to make eye contact with everyone. She truly was grateful for the effort and she wanted them to know that.

"Well, let's eat." Amren drawled.

Rhysand wasn't joking when he said Nesta demanded extravagance. Her and Emerie had created such a feast that Gwyn couldn't control the shock etched on her face. The item that caught her eye was the fish. Parmesan crusted flounder. It was a rarity growing up the way that they did. Gwyn couldn't stop the giggle that escaped her.

"This was my sister's favorite! When we were younger they served this on special occasions and Catrin would pick it up whole and would pretend the fish could talk." The table had gone quiet. Probably recognizing that any discussion of her sister was taboo. That didn't seem to stop Elain from inquiring. Though Gwyn questioned how much anyone told her. From their few interactions, Gwyn gathered that there wasn't much information the girl was included on.

"Where is she? Your sister?" Elain was genuine. She wasn't trying to be malicious. No one had clued her in and Gwyn couldn't fault her for that. Nesta seemed to think otherwise though. The death glare she sent Elain would have had Amren feeling nervous. The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"She, uh, died." Gwyn didn't like saying the words aloud. They made her feel her lack of control too completely. Elain bit her lip. She was about to respond when Gwyn's necklace seemed to grab her attention. The tension was so thick Gwyn thought she might be suffocated if she didn't try to relieve it.

"What was she like?" It was Feyre who finally spoke up. Gwyn didn't want to talk about Catrin. Not to people who openly judged Nesta for her perceived failings. She looked over to her two friends. Nesta was concerned, but Emerie was giving her such a soft, supportive look that Gwyn responded. She figured at the very least Nesta would never allow anyone to openly judge her.

"She was adventurous and ridiculously beautiful. We were opposites in almost all aspects. We couldn't go a day without fighting. But she was my person. We never really belonged any where, being part nymph, part high fae, we were shunned everywhere. But we always fit in with each other. We always belonged with each other." Gwyn closed her eyes. She was imagining Catrin's face, her smile. Catrin had always been the fun sister. Life was never dull with her. Gwyn was extremely aware that everyone was staring at her. She wished it would stop.

"The mini Pegasus would have loved her." Emerie said. Only the three best friends understood, but it made Gwyn laugh all the same.

"You still would have been the favorite though." Nesta sighed. She had tried to win the Pegasus over, but there was no swaying it from Gwyn's side. Luckily the conversation changed after that. Gwyn, Emerie, and Nesta were in a heated debate about which romance author was the best when Mor set a present in front of Gwyn.

"You didn't need to get me anything." A blush of embarrassment rose to Gwyn's cheek. The beautiful female was notoriously bad at gift giving which only made Gwyn more excited to open the gift. If only to pretend it was Catrin giving her the present.

"I promise you, you'll wish that to be the case once you see what's inside." Cassian smirked as Mor rolled her eyes. Indeed, the gift was unnecessary. Gwyn stared for awhile with pursed lips, perplexed, before responding.

"What is it?" Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel howled in laughter while the rest of the table looked amused.

"It's enchanted shampoo. The smell never fades!" Mor looked so excited despite the amusement from the rest of the table. It reminded Gwyn so much of Catrin that it wasn't hard to find a genuine response.

"Thank you Mor. I love it." She sent her a small smile in hopes of appropriately expressing her gratitude for the present. Azriel placed something in front of Gwyn next. She looked at the Shadowsinger with surprise. She hadn't expected a gift from anyone, let alone the most closed off of the Illyrian males. She began to unwrap it when Elain spoke again.

"I hope it isn't another regift, Az. That would just be unoriginal." The words were spoken as a joke, but the intense stare the two shared had Gwyn pausing her opening. Most of the table sent the pair a questioning look. It wasn't until Elain glanced at Gwyn's necklace again did she understand what Elain had said.

The necklace around Gwyn's neck was meant for Elain, but for one reason or another Azriel had given it to Gwyn. Perhaps he actually intended the necklace to be given to Clotho who regifted it yet again to Gwyn. She didn't really mind one way or the other. She decided it didn't make much difference. Until this moment she hadn't even realized the necklace was from Azriel. She allowed herself to wish for only a moment that the Shadowsinger gave the necklace to her himself without it being meant for Elain originally. Now she would admit that the silent conversation between the two of them unnerved her in the slightest. Gwyn allowed a smile to curve on her lips.

"I hope it isn't a ribbon either. I would find that unoriginal as well." The joke did as Gwyn anticipated. Azriel chuckled along with Nesta, Cassian, and Emerie. Azriel hadn't thought of the potential backlash when he regifted the necklace to Gwyn. He had been holding his shadows back all evening. He didn't want his family to know the lack of control he had on them in Gwyn's presence. The second the joke left Gwyn's lips, his shadows danced toward her. He couldn't help but feel relieved that she wasn't upset. He quickly gained control of his shadows again and nudged Gwyn to continue opening the present.

It was a dagger. Gwyn smiled softly at it. To the rest of the group, it would appear to be a simple gift. It meant much more to Gwyn though than any necklace ever could. Azriel had spent many lessons going over daggers with her. They spent hours talking about different metals and styles and weight distribution. The dagger in her hand was perfect, exactly what Gwyn had discussed would be her preference in a dagger. She analyzed every inch of the dagger before coming across the engraving. She laughed a heartfelt laugh upon reading it.

"I know it's not a sword, but I couldn't think of any other name that best represent you." Azriel was giving Gwyn a true smile. She realized that was the true gift of the night. Seeing how beautiful his face looked when a full blown smile graced it.

Nesta threw her head back in a cackle while Emerie and Cassian groaned at the carving.

"What is its name?" Rhysand quirked one eyebrow while looking at Azriel. What could he have possibly named the dagger to elicit this type of response.

"Silver majesty." Gwyn stood from her chair and swung her arms around Azriel in a hug. It was an awkward hug considering he was still sitting down, but it had her heart beating faster and not all together unpleasantly. Azriel too found that the hug shot a thrill into his shadows. It had them curving around her in a hug as well.

"That is the most ridiculous name I've ever heard." Amren muttered as she gulped down her wine. Gwyn didn't care. She thought it was perfect. She realized in that moment, the dull ache left behind by the death of her sister lulled while the shadows danced around her.

[riddlecrux]

Rosehall

Day 1 of Elriel Month is here! Summary: He knew that Rhysand's orders weren't fickle nor laced with lies, yet he couldn't phantom how his brother turned on him. How he, of all the people, couldn't understand how badly he wanted to be happy.

You can also read it on ao3!

They didn't talk.

No shy glances, no accidental touches while passing each other through the corridor, no warm smiles behind the rim of a wine glass. Even the silence in which he was sitting was unbearable, so different than the one that carried comfort and jasmine scent that always made him content, whole, at ease. Now, sitting alone on the fine chair in the House of Wind he was barely breathing. He was suffocating with loneliness, heavier than the one that crawled through his bones in that dark cell from his childhood. A real pain exploded behind his closed eyelids.

The night air pricked on his face as he tried not to think, not to feel. It was as if the gaping hole in his chest was a thing of his own shadows - swirling inside, eating him out and leaving only shreds of his broken emotions. He tried. He tried so desperately not to fall for her. For yet another unattainable person that was next to him just to mock his misfortune. It was something completely wrong. How one can take so many failures and still delude himself that maybe this time the ending would be different.

He was such a damned fool.

Azriel opened his eyes as a sharp pang in his chest enveloped him in another wave of utter bitterness and helplessness. The thing with Elain was something he hadn't expected - she came into his life wielding a fork and suddenly he could see clearer than ever before in his life. How sun caught in her golden-brown hair and how the freckles on her left cheek created a small triangle. And the way all that loveliness faded away when she was stripped of her own free will - and how he failed her at that moment. The arrow to his chest didn't hurt as much as her screams. The terror of them was still haunting him during long nights of insomnia and half slept nights.

And there was that companionship they formed. Based on silence and gardens. Teas full of leaves and sticky fruit floating on its surface. Elain always preferred her to drink sweet, even if her nose scrunched each time she sipped from a porcelain teacup - pale pinky held in the air as if she was still a lady in a room full of liars and men trying to woo her. Maybe during those moments of tranquility between them, he started to appreciate her gentleness even more.

Their meetings slowly but surely transformed into nights full of sleeplessness and sore throats - silence turned into constant chatter about everything and nothing. The first time he heard her giggle his world turned upside down. In that particular moment she was all he saw, in all her golden glory and chocolate smear on her chin - so warm and bright, so out of his reach. A secret. His secret, a memory to be locked inside his mind's labyrinth.

Sometimes he wished that both of them stopped before they had even begun their… relationship. Because maybe if he possessed more self strength and if he was less selfish, he would have protested when Elain touched his hand while they were resting in the garden. Or when he caressed her cheek while trying to get rid of the soil splattered there. Whenever they touched Azriel felt as if he was healing. These small palms that traced ridiculous figures on his scarred hands brought him comfort no one else did. A touch so tender that he wanted to break in halves only for her to mend him again. She was nothing like him and at the same time so familiar, so understanding. When she looked at him with her brown eyes full of terrors and beauty, he knew that she could see his soul. Every ugly part of him. And she never averted her stare, never flinched from his touch - she wholeheartedly accepted him.

Sighing out loud his wings twitched behind him when his eyes darkened once again. He knew that Rhysand's orders weren't fickle nor laced with lies, yet he couldn't phantom how his brother turned on him. How he, of all the people, couldn't understand how badly he wanted to be happy.

"Long night?" He snapped his neck at the voice and inwardly relaxed seeing cold silver eyes staring at him without fear.

"I suppose so," shrugging his shoulders he turned back toward the city, one hand still on the glass of strong alcohol he was pouring into himself for hours. A screech of a moving chair resonated next to him and with a slow exhale he sipped his drink.

"Not the fire this time," Nesta huffed and he saw in his peripheral vision that she poured herself a decent shot as well. "Both of you are the same," a small smile ghosted on her lips before she drank the brownish liquid in one go.

"Me and who?" He knew playing stupid wouldn't work on her but he was so tired. He had already lost, so Nesta seeing him at his worst would be nothing in comparison to the thunder inside his mind. The oldest Archeron sister let out a dry chuckle which indicated that she was aware of his silly attempt of deflection.

"Elain," her name awakened something inside him. Like a golden tether holding him upwards, longing after the female that brought up such emotions from him. "She used to glow these days, you know," he saw her playing with the rim of the goblet. Long finger stopping suddenly as if the glass burned her. "I know what happiness looks on her, and whenever both of you interacted or spent time together she was always… so bright. So alive," his heart thumped a few times before it gave him a painful tug. "The moment you saved her life was the first time I had wished that you were her mate," the wound opened again, a small sound escaped his mouth before he slumped forward. "But fate isn't so merciful. Yet, Elain made her own way in this life. I saw how she escaped that empty shell she used to be and how she learned to breathe again… with you ," Azriel wanted her to stop. To let go of this torment she was exposing him to.

"I can't listen to this," he stood up, his wings stretching to its whole span. "You know it's impossible," his bitter laugh echoed in the interior. "We both know that it doesn't matter if I have feelings for her," he was ready to fly away when Nesta's hand caught his elbow. Silver eyes shone in the darkness of the night with ancient power.

"It's her choice," she whispered. "She doesn't want her mate, she has never wanted that bond," her grip loosened for a bit and he was tempted to run away but her expression held him in one place. "But she wants you. She chose you. And you know it because I saw how you look at her, how both of you glance at each other," she pinched him when he was composing himself from snapping at her. "Ask her. Ask her about what she wants. Take her to the place where it's just both of you, so no one can interfere," her nod was final and with it, she slowly turned around and vanished upstairs. His jaw hurt from the force he was clenching his teeth. Nesta's words were a poison that circulated through his bloodstream.

Could he have that conversation?

Could they possibly be together?

The night air was cold against his burning skin when he shot up in the sky, wings outstretched and tense.

*

He landed on her balcony.

The beige curtains were dancing in the air, metal dreamcatcher swaying on the wisps with a soft melody. There were plants and flowers scattered around the balustrade and his shadows skittered around them, leaping into petals and leaves before returning to his form. He stopped beside the wooden table to see half-finished tea and some papers - a few of them with drawings of different gardens, trees, and notes about the seeds. However, what caught his attention was a stash of papers with Elain's handwriting. All of them were thrown around the surface with drops of tea marking some of them. There were letters forming sentences, he could pinpoint some of them, ones that weren't completely crossed out in the pale moonlight. He was about to touch one scroll with his name on it when his shadows whirled around him with a soft warning.

"Spying on me?" The sweet scent of jasmine and honey embraced his person as his hazel eyes blinked at the sight in front of him. Elain was in a white nightgown, tiny ribbons on her freckled shoulders were something he didn't know he needed to see in his life. Her loose hair was curling at its edges as the tresses touched her middle. She was watching him, big brown eyes stoic and unnerving.

"No," he breathed and her smell attacked his senses, driving him crazy. She crossed her arms under her breasts and padded towards him. Her feet stopped next to him and with a lazy movement, she gathered her papers without glancing at him. He could see her nape, soft and pale and so inviting as she leaned across the table. His fingers curled into fists when her presence burned his self-resilience.

"Do you need me for something?" She inquired letters in her grip and a slight frown on her perfect face.

"Actually," his shoulder tensed when she shot him a questioning glance. "Yes, I need you," he left it there. A pause and weight of his words, waiting for the judgment and perhaps hatred. But it never came as Elain silently turned to him, her lips parted and a soundless sigh ghosting in the air between them. She peered at him, irises wide and somewhat gentle before she touched his biceps and he was ready to be undone.

"We should talk," her breath tickled his skin as he nodded without thinking twice. "Here?" Her question woke him up and trying not to scare her, he offered his scarred palm while stretching out his wings.

"There's a place I want to show you," his words echoed in the dead of night and as her small fingers wrapped around his hand he could finally breathe again.

*

When they arrived the moon was high in the sky, its light reflecting on the waters of a marble fountain in front of the manor. He exhaled letting Elain down as she politely exchanged her thanks. She pried her hair from the face and with newfound excitement, she whirled around facing him with a bright smile.

"I dreamed about this place," her voice was warm and all he wanted was to touch her to make sure she was standing there under the moonlight. "The gardens were something I have wanted to see," she pointed a finger in the direction of a greenhouse and a patch of flowers and vines.

"Dream or a vision?" He knew he shouldn't test his luck, yet deep down inside he felt as if he had already known the answer. As if it was imprinted inside his heart for a long time.

"Vision," she answered, walking towards the field of roses. Her palm touched some petals while her hair tumbled down towards the ground. "I saw you here," her digits closed around the stem with silent amusement. "You were happy," she turned around and looked straight at him.

"This is Rosehall," the lump in his throat made it difficult for him to speak. It was like a fever dream of his, having her here in the fields of flowers and so painstakingly real.

"Very suitable," she smiled and turned once again stepping onto the soft grass. "It's a pretty name," he heard her sitting on the ground and when he glanced up he saw her lying flat on the earth. Her knees were slightly angled but her face was upwards as if she was watching stars. Azriel staggered towards her, breathing fresh air as he finally stood up on her right.

"I haven't thought about its name for years," he slowly sat and looked at her profile. She was gazing at the sky with a small smile. Happiness looked beautiful on her, it made her glow.

"There's so much...space," she breathed and her chest moved in a slight erratic manner. "You can almost taste freedom here," Elain blinked as she turned onto her side. She faced him and he thought that there was never a time in his life when he felt so many emotions at once.

"I'm sorry," the edges of him crumbled as his eyes started to burn. He didn't mean to hurt her, not in the slightest. He was just too… selfish. And she was everything he had ever dreamed about, an embodiment of home, of a warmth he so desperately searched for. "It wasn't a mistake," he whispered as her hand fell upon his abdomen. Always trusting, always inviting.

"Then what? A distraction?" She mused as her body leaned forward and she was mirroring his position. "I will never know as long as you won't talk to me," she supplied with a pain in her voice.

"No, never a distraction. I have wanted this," he circled the air with his hand ambiguously. "From the moment you clenched onto that fork you were someone I have wanted to be with," his head lowered down Azriel didn't want to meet her eyes.

"Why haven't you told me?" Her confusion mixed with regret pained him.

"You have a mate," he muttered while plucking on some innocent straw of grass.

"And you know I don't want him," her palm searched for his cheek and as she turned his face to look at her, he saw tears in her eyes. "Whenever I'm with you I feel whole. Alive. I look at you and feel so scared," he inwardly flinched yet she held him in one place. "Scared of losing you. Every time I lose sight of you I feel like I'm drowning. It's as if a part of me was ripped apart," she closed her trembling lips and stared at him with utter devotion.

"Elain," his fingers touched her neck, his thumb circling around the hollow gap between her shoulder and jaw.

"That night I chose you. Us," she said with a final note, leaning against his hand. "It's my choice, no one else's," a butterfly-like kiss ghosted on his inner palm.

"Rhysand's orders," he gulped when she pushed him down and climbed onto his lap.

"Fuck Rhysand's orders," she spat and for a moment both of them were silent. Then he laughed, a true bellowing laughter erupted at the back of his throat at her vicious remark. Her giggles followed and he had never heard such an extraordinary sound.

"Never deemed you as a foul mouth," he managed when she slumped forward, enveloping him in a warm hug.

"I live with Illyrians and a very pissed immortal being," a hot kiss on his neck made him shiver.

"Elain," he took her face in his hands and stared at her brown eyes with a heat crawling down his spine. "Elain," he whispered again while closing the distance between them. She whimpered when he finally nibbed at her lower lip. The sensation waking up something primal inside him, a storm of feelings and needs attacking his senses. Her warm mouth opened and he finally kissed her - something exploded in his chest, something brilliant and intimate. It was as if everything was set in order, the way her lips moved against and how their bodies molded into one. He could feel her, smell her need and anticipation. She was shaking as her small fingers dug into his neck.

"Azriel," his name on her lips was his undoing. He opened his eyes and saw her… glowing. The golden hue enveloping both of them into a cocoon of intense bliss. When she opened her eyes the golden color lingered there for a while before vanishing, leaving both of them gasping for air.

"You were always there," he realized touching his chest. A vibrant thread blinding him with its magnitude.

"Rosehall," she laughed tracing his scars. "You have waited for so long," Elain kissed his temple while embracing him again. "I'm sorry I have made you wait for so long," the bridge between them sparkled with love and belonging.

"I knew you would come to me," nothing but the truth slipped through his lips as he gently cupped her chin. Both of them stared at each other, halves of two finally found. A home he had longed for, held in his arms as a scent of roses and jasmine shielded him from the world.

[mardereads19]

Elriel Month 🌸🦇

Day 26:

Azriel found Elain in the garden of his estate. She sat on one of the benches, having escaped out here while he chatted with his mother after lunch.

Though her back was to him, Azriel thought Elain looked serene and at ease in this place. But it was time for him to return her to the river house. Rhys and Feyre must be wondering where they were. Especially Rhysand.

Azriel approached Elain and sat beside her, looking out at the field of flowers that faced them. He expected to find her smiling at the beauty of his mother’s garden, but instead her brow was furrowed and she was biting her lower lip.

Azriel took her hand in his. “What is it?”

She shook her head, her lose hair swaying with the combination of the breeze and the movement.

Azriel had felt a shift in her by the end of lunch, but he hadn’t been sure whether he was imagining it or if she really had something in her mind bothering her. Being here beside her now, looking at her troubled expression, he knew he had not imagined it.

He reached out his hand and tucked her hair behind her ear. Elain shut her eyes, taking a deep breath in. He caressed her neck. “Elain?”

“It’s not fair,” she finally answered, her voice containing a slight tremor.

He stilled. “What isn’t?”

“This.” She opened her eyes and gestured between and around them. “That we have to hide what we feel for each other.” Her eyes were lined with silver and it pained him enough to want to pull her close, comfort her. But she needed him to listen to her more than that right now.

“I just—” She broke eye contact for a moment. Azriel waited. “How long will this be a secret? How long will us be a secret?”

Azriel could not stop himself from reaching his hand to wipe away the tears that fell from her eyes. He ignored his scarred fingers as they touched her perfect skin. He could feel his own heart breaking at her pain.

Azriel wondered what had caused her to stroll down that road in her mind, but he understood. He had those same thoughts at night —it didn’t matter whether he was alone or if she laid beside him, pressed against his chest.

“Why can’t I just hold you or kiss you in front of our friends —our family— like I had wanted to do at that ball? Why can’t I just have you?”

Azriel clenched his teeth as the memory of her mating bond to Lucien came to his mind. He had a strong urge to winnow over to where the male was now —most likely the Spring Court— and challenge him to a duel. But Azriel wouldn’t do it. He didn’t know how that would affect Elain. Would it hurt her to lose that bond? Did the rupture of it cause pain? Perhaps one day she’d wonder what would have happened if she had giving it a chance. Then, she would resent Azriel for taking it from her. For killing her mate.

She studied his face. “Do you think there would be bad repercussions if I just kissed you in front of everyone?” Her gaze did not shine with hope. She already knew the answer.

Lucien possibly breaking off his ties and alliance to the Night Court, maybe selling all its secrets to the highest bidder, and the probable blood duel challenge that could unleash a potential war between Autumn and Night when Azriel finished him.

Not to mention Rhys’s retaliation for Azriel’s disobedience to him.

What would it matter to win a blood duel for Elain’s hand if the High Lord banished him from the land where she was for going against his order? Would Rhys ever do that to him? Azriel wanted to believe he wouldn’t, but he was the High Lord and had a reputation to defend. If not, what would it mean for the rest of the Inner Circle to see Azriel living normally after contradicting Rhysand? Would his disobedience cause a chain reaction of the others going against Rhys’s rules?

He did not voice any of these things aloud, but Elain had always known how to read him without hearing him. Her shoulders sagged farther and her head dipped in disappointment.

Azriel would have none of it.

He ran his thumbs along her cheekbones and lifted her chin.

“Do you want to stop?”

She blinked at him. “Stop what?”

“This. Us.”

A crease appeared between her brow and her lips began to tremble, a small movement that ignited Azriel’s impulse to do anything to take away her suffering. To do anything that would get her to laugh. New tears gathered in her brown eyes. “No. Do you?”

Azriel leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose. “Never.” She shut her eyes and her tears fell again. He wiped them away, raising his lips to her forehead. “I never want to stop kissing you like this. Holding you. Touching you.”

Elain’s arms encircled his torso and Azriel scooped her legs, careful not to tear her soft pink dress, and sat her in his lap. He laid another kiss on her temple. “I don’t ever want to stop anything with you.”

Elain rubbed her nose to his before pressing her forehand against his. One of her arms moved behind his neck while her other hand pressed against his chest, his heart. No, not his.

It was hers.

“I don’t either. Never. But I don’t want us to live in secrecy our whole lives.”

Azriel shook his head. “We won’t.” He caressed her hair, hoping conviction rang in his words. “Elain, we won’t. It’s just not the time right now.” He hated it. Hated saying it. The words tasted like lead in his mouth.

“When will it be time?”

Azriel considered. “When this whole Koschei business is finished, and when the situation with Beron is resolved, then we can tell them.”

Elain nodded, but her nostrils flared and the tears did not stop. “I fear there will be something else then. Some other threat that will keep us in the dark.”

The dark. As if Azriel would ever let her experience that. He had already suffered enough of the dark for both of them.

Azriel kissed her, and it was not gentle. It was rough and passionate. It was a promise.

He pulled away and said, their gaze meeting, “Let’s make a deal.”

She sat up straighter and scanned his face. But he had no doubt in his heart where she was concerned. And whatever consequences their relationship could unleash, he’d face them. For her he’d brave hell itself. The fury of the Cauldron for this disrespect towards fate. He’d brave anything for her. To keep her from ever crying like this again.

“When Koschei is dealt with and Beron is no longer a threat to the stability of our Court, we’ll tell the others. We’ll them about us.” He kissed her lips again.

Elain’s eyes filled with a new light, with hope and joy and—

“Yes,” she answered, the word a breath.

“Then it’s a deal.”

And as their hands shook in agreement, Azriel leaned in to kiss her again. Magic coursed through his body as the deal they just struck gained weight, but Elain did not jump back. Instead, she kissed him harder, her tears falling against his own cheeks.

He knew there would be a new tattoo on them both to remind them of that deal, but Azriel knew the tattoo wasn’t necessary for him to remember his promise to her. Not when his heart sang a name every single second of every single day.

Elain.

It was hers. All of him was.

And the second it was safe for him to explain what he felt for her without any threat jeopardizing her safety, he would not wait any longer.

He’d shout what he felt for her from the rooftops and let the sound be carried by the wind.

[noforkingclue]

How He Feels (Sam Wilson x reader x Bucky Barnes)

Summary: It was clear to everyone apart from you that Sam liked you. Maybe with a little encouragement Sam would tell you how he felt before it was too late.

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary

Warnings: Angst, angst, all the angst and unrequited love!

Author’s Note: Prequel to Come Back

“You should tell her.”

Sam jumped when he heard Steve speak. He had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hadn’t heard him approach. Steve gave him an amused look as Sam folded his arms and looked away.

“Tell who what?” he asked

“Y/n,” Steve nodded out at the figure watching the sunset, “It’s obvious.”

Sam looked at Steve out of the corner of before sighing and looking away. He ran a hand over his face and said,

“That obvious?”

“To someone who knows you, yes.”

“Fuck.”

“Hey,” Steve clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder, “You need to tell her.”

“That would only make things worse.”

“How?”

“You know her rule, no dating team mates.”

Steve sighed and looked at his friend. Sam’s affection for you was clear, especially to Steve who could clearly see how much you meant to him. Ever since you and Sam had met you had gotten along. The bond between the two of you was clear and while Sam’s feelings were obvious yours were less so. You were naturally affectionate with most people so it was surprisingly difficult to tell your true feelings.

“Besides,” Sam continued, “I don’t want to ruin our friendship. What happens if she doesn’t feel the same way? Things won’t be able to go back to the way they were before. Even if she says we can remain friends it’ll be awkward. There’ll be no going back if she rejects me.”

“Sometimes,” said Steve, “Things in life are worth taking the risk.”

At that moment you looked over at them and beamed. As you started walking towards them Sam’s gaze softened at your smile. He tried to push down the feeling in his stomach when he saw the way your eyes lit up when you saw them. Maybe Steve was right, maybe some things were worth taking the risk on.

 *

 “You’re in love with her.”

Sam looked over at Natasha who was standing next to him. Steve had gone out and you were currently sleeping on the sofa. When you, Steve and Natasha arrived on Sam’s doorstep he didn’t hesitate in letting the three of you in. The exhausted look on you face made Sam want to scoop you into his arms and never let you go. To assure you that everything will be alright and he’ll be there to protect you.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Please,” Natasha gave him a pointed look, “It’s obvious.”

“That’s what Steve said.”

“Did he,” Natasha looked amused, “And you still haven’t done anything?”

“Why would I?

“This life,” Natasha looked back at you, “Is far too short to hold anything back. You think that you can put it off for one more day, that you’ll tell her how you feel tomorrow, but when tomorrow comes one of you might not be around to hear it.”

“So what you’re saying is I should tell her because one of us might die tomorrow.”

“Could even be sooner.”

“Has anyone told you that you’re an optimist?”

“I prefer the term realist.”

Natasha gave him a brief smile but Sam kept looking at you. He had initially tried to persuade you to take his bed and for him to sleep on the sofa. Of course it was because it was comfier than the sofa but a small part (a very small part) wanted to see you wrapped up in his sheets. To see what you might look like in his bed, to have a guess at what it might look like to wake up next to you. You turned over in your sleep and the blanket Sam had given you fell to the floor. Immediately Sam moved to place it back over you, much to the amusement of Natasha.

“Sam?”

Sam froze when you said his name sleepily. You looked at him and rubbed your eyes tiredly.

“What time is it?” you asked trying to sit up

“Early.”

“Then why aren’t you asleep?”

“Couldn’t fall asleep,” he said, “You should try and get some more. You sure you don’t want the bed?”

“Positive. Besides your sofa is surprisingly comfy. Night Sam.”

“Night sleepy.”

As Sam walked passed Natasha he ignored the pointed look she gave him. It was better to deny his feelings for you and preserve a friendship he wouldn’t exchange for anything then to confess and ruin it. Even if it hurt him to do so.

 *

 Seeing you, in that moment, made Sam understand why a crush was called a crush. It was because in the end someone’s feelings were going to get crushed. It just never occurred to him that it might’ve been his.

He was watching Bucky awkwardly trying to teach you to dance. A small smile was on you face and your cheeks turned red whenever Bucky touched you. Soft 1940s music echoed around the hideout as Bucky took one of your hands in his. Bucky hesitated slightly before moving his metal hand to your waist. It stopped just above it and you smiled up at him. You took Bucky’s metal hand and placed it on your waist, clearly not bothered by the danger you could be in. Bucky seemed startled by your apparent bravery but you ignore the look and started swaying to the music.

Sam didn’t comment when he heard Steve approach him or shake off the comforting hand he put on his shoulder. He didn’t realise how close you and Bucky had become since he had last seen you. It was something he wasn’t expecting. He had seen you smiled and laugh a hundred times before but what struck him most was the look in your eyes.

The soft, understanding gaze of someone who had found a deeper connection with another person. The way your eyes lit up when Bucky spun you around or when you lost your footing and Bucky immediately wrapped his arm around your waist to steady you. The way you laughed and rested your head against his chest. Sam closed his eyes and walked away not able to stand seeing you and Bucky together. He was vaguely aware of Steve following him but he didn’t say anything until they were out of the room.

“When did that happen?” Sam asked eventually

“They’re not together.” Steve said quickly

Steve gave him a disbelieving looking and Steve shifted awkwardly.

“Not very long, I think,” he admitted, “Not quite sure how it happened.”

Sam was silent for a moment then he ran a hand over his face. Steve stood back and grimaced slightly. Sam’s feelings had been clear from the start but you had always been oblivious to them.

“Look, Sam-“

Sam held up a hand and Steve stopped.

“Not right now,” he said, “What I really need is a drink.”

 *

 Sam had never seen a sunset quite like the one in Wakanda. Colours he didn’t even know that the sky could make were splashed across the sky. You were leaning against the balcony watching the sun slowly set as he walked towards you. The two of you stood in silence until you said,

“Do you ever think he’ll wake up?”

“Who? Bucky?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sure of it.”

“Good.”

The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence. That was the one thing Sam loved about being with you, even when the two of you didn’t talk it was never awkward. You could be doing completely different things and never have a moment of awkwardness between you. Sam could count the number of people he could do that with on one hand and most of them were family.

“I didn’t know,” he said eventually, “About you and Barnes.”

You looked over sharply. Even in the dying light Sam could see the red on your cheeks.

“He’s just a friend,” you said, “I don’t date colleagues.”

“He’s not exactly a colleague is he.”

Sam couldn’t help the bitterness in his voice and you looked at him in shock. Eventually you said,

“You still don’t trust him do you?”

“I’m just worried,” he said, “How well do you really know him?”

“I’m not dating him,” you said, “And we have actually spent quite a bit of time together. Steve’s been so busy lately so Bucky and I have been together. I’ve been helping him catch up to the modern world, watching films with him, introducing him to new music. He’s even been teaching me how to dance.”

Sam looked away, the memory of how close you and Bucky had been still fresh in his memory.

“This isn’t the Winter Soldier we’re dealing with,” you assured him, “It’s James Buchanan Barnes that we’re dealing with. He’s a different person. You trust me right?”

“Yeah. I trust you.”

“Good.”

You rested your head against Sam’s arm and he automatically wrapped an arm around your shoulders. The peaceful silence settled over the two of you again and Sam realised that there was nowhere else he’d rather be. With no one else around, and just you and him watching the sun set over Wakanda he could pretend that it was just the two against the world. While Sam knew his feelings weren’t reciprocated he was going to be there for you. He valued having you as a friend and right now that is what you needed more than anything in the world.

 *

 Sam practically flung open the door after you knocked. You stood there looking up at him for a second before you smiled and wrapped your arms around him. Sam enclosed him arms around you and rested his chin on top of your head. Everything had been so hectic since everyone came back that the two of you hadn’t had time to properly catch up. He breathed in the scent of your shampoo and you looked up at him amused.

“Missed me?” you asked

“Is that even a question?”

You laughed and playfully slapped Sam on the arm. He let go of you and stumbled back pretending to be hurt. You just rolled your eyes and entered his house, carefully shutting the door behind you. Sam had moved into the kitchen and started making you your favourite drink. It felt good to see you properly after so long and it had given him plenty of think to think over your relationship. A soft hand placed itself over his wrist and he looked up at you.

“What’s the matter?” he asked

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” you said, “It’s important.”

You had an anxious look on your face and Sam couldn’t help the butterflies that appear in his stomach. The bubbling nervousness that only increased when he fully took in your face. He had never seen you look so nervous before and you took a deep breath and walked away. You sat down on his sofa and patted the seat next to you with a soft smile. Sam didn’t hesitate in rushing to your side. He took your hand and brushed his thumb over your knuckles, a gesture he knew always calmed you down.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while,” you said, “But it never seemed the right time.”

“You know you can tell me anything,” said Sam, “What are friends for?”

“Of course.”

You smiled at him and Sam felt his heart skip a beat at it. He had forgotten how beautiful it was. How he wanted to pull you into his arms and kiss you and tell you how much he loved you. How he had always loved you and never wanted to let you go. Eventually you said,

“Sam, I’ve decided to retire.”

[dayseternal-blog]

Summary: Hinata gives Naruto candy on Valentine’s, and he develops a crush early-on. An Alpha/Omega fic.

Pairing: Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto

Written for @naruto-smut-monday​ 2021 - February Prompt: Sweet as Candy / Love Bites.

(This is many months late, so I carry no expectations for the event moderators to reblog this 😓)

Rated E for really explicit, kinky smut!

Sweet and rich.

Her usual milkiness pitching lower and bolder.

The familiar scent of her heat fills his lungs with each gasp against her lips, tugging at his heart, enticing each shove of himself into her soft folds.

She breaks the kiss with a tortured moan that rolls through his heightened, rutting senses.  Her face turns, exposing the broken, shining gland at her neck once more.

His mark still looks fresh from their aggressive first round.  He had awoken from their fitful rest with Hinata eagerly sucking him off in the dead of the night.  The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when they finally fell back asleep in cuddling, knotted exhaustion.

His tongue catches the liquid caramel at her gland, just as sweet as her scent, and gently, he gnaws into her sensitive neck to release more for him to drink as she squeals, slick flowing around his swelling piece, nudging deeper and deeper.

“Hinata…”  Clawing pleasure skips along his skin, shimmering in his veins with each suck against the abused claim.

“Ah...Alpha...”

He doesn’t need her breathy Omega voice to encourage him, not when her snug passage is readily opening up to accommodate his urgent thrusts, his hands gripping her flared hips still as he impales her hurriedly until she’s wrapped entirely around his knot, stuck and breathlessly screaming for him.  “You wanted this again, yeah?”

She nods enthusiastically, the bob of her chin frantic like the shake of her large breasts.  Tears of pain and pleasure glint along her dark lashes and pink cheeks, her little tongue teases him as she gasps from puffy lips, tracks of his saliva and her leaking scent gland glimmer in the mid-morning sun.  His usually proper and demure wife is a beautiful mess on his rigid cock, soaking wet for him, the excellent sight filling his inner, lusting beast with possessive pride.

“Look at you,” he groans, slipping mindlessly into his secondary gender, “my pretty Omega, living for my knotted dick, acting all cute for my cum.”

She wiggles beneath him with an affectionate gasp, and he’s grinding hard into her until her glassy eyes squeeze shut, more tears escaping.

He leans down to lick each one up, the saltiness making him grab at the top of her head to turn her intoxicating gland toward him so that he can drink her in, her heady, rich taste invading his senses.

She squirms beneath him.

Her legs squeeze at his waist.

Blunt fingernails pinch into his back.

Tight nipples push into his chest and smooth stomach arches into him.

Plush flesh clenches around his knot, coaxing his release.  Her hot breath ghosts over his bicep, prickling his skin with a begging, “Please, please, please-”

And he’s coming before he can even consider holding back, throbbing into her humidity, smearing his own broken gland against her lips until she’s sucking everything out of him, his whole body and soul yearning, pulsing into her welcoming, soft comfort.  Take all of me.

For only a blissful second, his mind feels empty, his Alpha terribly pleased and sated.

She paints a small strip with her tongue at his gland, and the beast reawakens.

He’s fucking his cum into her, stirring into her weeping flesh, his knot plugging her up so that she’s awfully sloppy around his dick, a rumbling in his chest as she clings to him, her face buried in his neck, her warm tongue still licking cutely at him.  “Hinata, you need more, don’t you?”

“Naruto-kun,” she sighs, “mhmm…”

So this is what it’s like to share their heat and rut, their tempos finally coinciding after their first bonded year.

He’d imagined it was never-ending sex, the idea both arousing and concerning, but experiencing it leaves him trembling with honest delight and, more than anything else, sincere love.  Of course, it’s an overwhelming desire to impregnate her, to make her whole body and life undeniably his, something that’s normal in his rut anyway, but with her very much unprotected body so willing and ready, so much slick to ease his knot into her over and over again without worry, it’s as if every part of them is shared, synced and in tune, eager to please and enjoy each other.

He can’t even begin to consider separating himself from her at the end of these five or so days, can’t at all recall what his daily life is like outside of their home.

Not when her hazy eyes are lowered in an expression of come-hither lust, all hints of his usual shy, reserved wife forgotten with his stiff piece warm and wet, pushing against her cervix.  Her fingers dance over his arm muscles, massaging over the back of his shoulders, and tunneling into his hair.

He nudges his face into her neck, inhaling her scent deeply as new attraction rushes fast and hard into his knot, as if he hadn’t been excited the whole time.

“Fill me up, my love,” she whispers, her moist clit sliding at his groin, and that voice intones, breathier and lower, “my sweet Alpha.”

Shivers run up his spine, his hips straining at her more insistently, tight flesh tugging at his knot as he tries to ram himself deeper into her.  Memories of his thick seed dribbling down her thighs from past ruts morph into images of her stomach swollen with their child.  They’ve prepared for this week for a couple of months now after their last rut and heat nearly overlapped, only for one incredible day that convinced both of them they needed more in their marriage.  After the nine day ordeal of caring for each other's needs, they had visited their doctors, Hinata had taken out her birth control, and then they had reviewed tips on self- and partner-care for acclimated bonds.

All their preparation is flying out the window of his mind now.

They’re supposed to clean up after this?  The wet wipes seem completely unnecessary, and he lets her know he has no intention of using them.  “Gonna cover you in my scent, no other Alpha will even dare to look at you.”

She nods, a lovely, dazed smile curling her kiss-swollen lips.  Soft, agreeing moans soothe the aggression simmering low in his gut, turning his lust into appreciative hunger.

They’re supposed to eat that microwavable shit?  Isn’t Hinata’s body enough for him?  His hands sink into her fluffy tits, squeezing and playing, whetting his appetite with her delicious curves.  And isn’t he enough?  “Only going to feed you my knot, keep you full of cum.  You can eat my hard dick whenever you want.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes...”  Adoring, pearly eyes gaze up at him even through her tortured gasps.

He smashes her into the bed, one hand clutching her round ass desperately as the other tangles into her hair.  Her needy kisses are just as much tongue as his, their lips sucking on each other avidly.

Ecstasy slides through his veins, blooming over his mind, cocooning him in pleasant sensations, cum shooting out in eager twitches against hot, milking flesh.

He’s left panting into the pillow, the material doing little to stop her rich smell of satisfaction from drawing him back to lick at the abused flesh of his claim on her, her body shivering uncontrollably and enticingly beneath him, teasing his body and mind with the taste of her sweet, sweet dew.

Everything about her has always been sweet to him.

From her scent to her smile, her kiss, and her touch.  The glow in her eyes, just for him, to her intimate voice.

The way she always tries to understand him and is there to support him.

He’s wondered if they were made for each other, the strength of their connection at times so overwhelming that he could cry.

They were taught in school that mating isn’t decided, not like some spiritual concept of soulmates, but that potential bonded relationships are cultivated carefully over time.

However, significant inclinations may form from way before either party presents.

He thinks he’s been inclined to her from the moment she handed him, a random elementary schoolmate in the hallway, not even in the same class as her, one of her extra giri chocolates on Valentine’s Day.  She handed a couple of other boys she passed on the way an extra chocolate, too, but he didn’t care.  He crushed on her fast and easily, his heart swayed by nearly any kind gesture from a girl.  Having one more chocolate than his friends was something he bragged about right away in pretend nonchalance, saying that a girl from another class gave it especially to him.

His fleeting feelings might have ended there if he weren’t in her class the following year, if she hadn’t handed out giri chocolates again, if she hadn’t noticeably blushed pink and whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Naruto-kun,” or if he hadn’t found out his little baggie of chocolates had one more heart-shaped piece than Sasuke’s baggie…it was a small win compared to all the unappreciated honmei chocolates Sasuke received, but Naruto took what he could get.

Maybe his little school crush would have ended there if she had stopped handing out giri chocolates to boys in intermediate school, the way most girls did when they started presenting, when she wore her skirt as long as was acceptable by school dress code, sweaters over her button-down uniform, and simple blue ribboned chokers to cover as much skin as possible, when the mystery of her designation tickled the back of his mind whenever she was near, but he had no way of knowing, especially with their sex education steering hard by-the-book on disease, protection, and, most of all, consent, rather than humoring their curiosities about individual designations and tell-tale personality traits.

He and the boys in their class still got giri chocolates from her despite how so many of them acted like annoying idiots, and he knew he wasn’t the only one who liked that thoughtful sweetness about her.  He also knew he was the only one who had one more chocolate than the others, or, at least, one more than Kiba.

“Let me see,” he’d say mid-grab, stealing the bag from Kiba’s hand.

“What the fuck, why are you always trying to take mine, you have your own!”

His eyes strained to swiftly count the number of adorable handmade, heart-shaped chocolates through the dark purple plastic, her level of effort making even giri chocolates feel incredibly special.  5.

“They’re all the same every year, fucktard.”  Kiba snatched it away.  “But you better not have broken any.”

His bag, for the third year in a row, had 6, and his cheeks flushed with wonder, a self-satisfied grin breaking out.  “I was just checking.  It really is the same every year.  Isn’t it great?”  He popped a chocolate in his mouth, pushing back the overly gleeful thought that it could all mean something more than a coincidental mistake.

Their third, last year of intermediate school, he expected it.  A bag of six chocolates, just for him.  And with only her characteristic small, shy smile, she handed him his gift, and he grinned hugely to cover up his nerves.  “Thanks, Hinata!”

She bowed her head and hurried to the next boy in the room.

And he counted.  6.  His gaze flickered up to her back, wondering, the seed of his suspicions sprouting awfully strong.  What if these chocolates are actually honmei?  She’s just too shy-

His bag was ripped from his grip.

He whipped around, eyes wide, staring up at Kiba’s exuberant smile.

“I gotcha first this time!”

“Kiba!” he shouted, his arm swinging up, but Kiba pulled it back just in time.  Scenarios flew through his mind, all of him humiliatingly chasing his friend around the classroom for a little bag of giri chocolates, and Naruto quickly decided to play it cool.  “Give it back, man.”

Kiba ignored him, making an elaborate show of scrutinizing the bag.  “I was just checking-ttebayo,” he mocked when he did a double-take.  “Whaaat, you got 6?!  That’s not fair!”  He checked his own bag.  “I only have 5!”

His heart stopped.  His gaze flashed to Hinata.

She was staring at them.

Panicking, he turned away.  “...Really?!  Cool!” he spit out in feigned surprise.  “Maybe she just doesn’t like you as much!  Give it back before you break one.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.  How could she like you more than me?”  Kiba tossed the bag at him, and Naruto grabbed it harder than he should have, the chocolates knocking together in his stressed hand.

Blood rushed hot through his system, but he was desperately trying to appear unaffected.  “You probably smell like dog!”

Kiba clicked his tongue at that, then looked directly at the girl in question.  “Hinata, do I smell like dog??!”

Naruto hesitated to look at her, but when he finally did, she was already falling to the floor.

The blame ultimately fell on Kiba for her fainting incident, since he asked such an obtrusive question like that, but somehow, Naruto couldn’t help but think it to be his fault, that he had failed some kind of test, messed up a secret game, and couldn’t protect something special that was only meant for him to know.

Wondering attraction maybe could have ended there, at the start of high school, when gossip about Sakura, pretty and sassy spitfire of a girl, and her rumored, unexpected Omega designation ran rampant around their grade level.  The idea that someone so fiery and untouchable could be secretly emotional and clingy attracted many of the boys who were starting to show symptoms of presenting, such as starting to differentiate the scents of the girls in the class.

Though Naruto himself couldn’t smell anything from anyone, that didn’t stop him from imagining the athletic, rosy-haired girl, wondering what about her smell made her so desirable to some of the presenting boys… Whenever she was near, he focused his senses as much as he could, but nothing.

Hinata didn’t pass out giri chocolates that year to his great disappointment.

He shrugged it off, understanding that it’s seen by most as a childish or seemingly flirtatious tradition, that Kiba’s noisiness last year made her change her mind, that maybe his extra chocolate was a mistake of coincidence the last four years.  He’d rather jump off the second-floor window than ask her if there was any meaning to it, so he decided to pay no mind to it, and he would have, but…

When she smelled like chocolate, sweet like a candy store, the next day, and he thought maybe she was a day late.  Maybe she was still passing out chocolates to everyone, even though he couldn’t see any large bag, making him wonder if she had stuffed her sweater pockets and clothes full of chocolate.  His temperature ran high, adrenaline racing through his heart whenever she walked even slightly in his direction, hoping for something from her that never came, and for days after, he was glaringly upset at how she definitely made chocolate, a whole lot of chocolate, and didn’t give him any.

Two months later, he began to understand that she just smelled like that, like she dumped chocolate perfume on her clothes, and some days just a dab, but either way it clouded his mind and made his stomach flip-flop anxiously, made him feel impatient and antsy beneath his skin, and he couldn’t take his irrational frustration anymore.

“Hinata, why do you always smell like that?”  His tone was much more accusing than he meant it to be, but it was too late.

She was frozen a few paces between his desk and Ino’s, her angelically light eyes wide, her fair skin tinting pink as she looked back at him, and that chocolate smell amplifying with a strange tinge of citrusy unknowns.  “...Huh?”

His face scrunched up in equal confusion at her seemingly innocent ignorance.  “I don’t know, like, you smell really swee-”

Realization struck him hard before Sakura’s fist to the back of his head.  “Naruto!  What the hell do you think you’re asking her!”

“Ah fuck!”  He clasped the back of his head and bowed on his desk in pain, partially to shield from any more hits, partially to hide his beet-red face.

Ino and Sakura were yelling at him, calling him a pervert and that they should report him, but his mind zeroed in on Hinata’s soft voice, asking him if he was okay, saying that she was completely fine, that it’s really okay and that she wasn’t going to report him.

His heart was pumping rapidfire, embarrassed heat crawling like a poison through his veins until he could swear he was hot to the touch, even the tips of his ears felt like they were burning, and he tried to hunch his shoulders to hide it.

He had been scenting her.

Everyday for the past two months.

Focusing on hers alone as if she was the only girl in the room.

Yet he hadn’t realized it at all.

If his feelings could have changed after that, it would’ve taken a whole lot of rejection on her end.  She easily consumed his thoughts even when he didn’t want to think about her.  Even when he actively tried to find someone else’s scent to enjoy, like Ino’s spring and fresh floral or Sakura’s berry and soda pop, but he ended up forgetting them with her near, ended up fazing into some kind of sparkling clarity, fuzzy around the edges yet Hinata in the center of it all, his eyes settling onto the wide ribbon peeking over her uniform’s collar as he sat at the back of the classroom and her in the front.

He noticed every time she fidgeted with the ribbon, he noticed how her scent strengthened into something darker and exciting on various occasions, but then how she’d be gone from school for days at a time, just like some of the other matured girls and boys.  Her extended absence after such impactful scents left him utterly bored and empty at school.

Then at home, he couldn’t contain his imagination, recalling her coloring scent, her fingers pressing over the choker at her hidden gland.  What might she be doing right now?  Maybe at this very moment, she was comforting herself in a nest of pillows and blankets, using toys to mimic his penetration, maybe calling his name as she writhed in heat before passing out with an exhausted afterglow…?

The last Sports Festival of their high school careers saw lots of students pairing up.  The adrenaline rush of the special competitions fueled love confessions every day up until the last moments of the final afternoon.  He longed for a confession.

His eyes kept sliding toward her.

Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail throughout most of the festival, her simple white sports shirt and standard black shorts revealing her arms, legs, and the shape of her body.

Undeniably, he liked her.  Despite not knowing either of their designations, despite rarely talking to her, he couldn’t stop admiring her perfection, his eyes capturing as much as he could commit to memory before he had to look away, so as not to stare.

But sometimes he wouldn’t look away fast enough, their eyes would awkwardly meet, and she’d blush and look away first.  He’d focus determinedly somewhere else, yet inwardly, just as he always had, he’d wonder if there was any meaning in her looks, or if it was just coincidence, if those extra chocolates from their childhood were just coincidence, if he was just leading himself on in a sick and doomed game that he imagined all by himself.

He never got a confession.

But it seemed like Hinata did.

A snowy-haired boy from another class kept visiting her during breaks, talking to her from the sliding window between the hallway and the classroom, leaning over the sill to smile at her, obviously basking in her directed attention and the way she familiarly called him, “Toneri-kun.”

Silently jealous, all he could do was watch and listen, pretend to pay attention to the people around him and not his crush getting stolen away by some guy he could’ve sworn he had never seen before.

Three tedious weeks later, Toneri got bold and invited her out during lunch.  As soon as she left the room, he stood up and followed after them, not even knowing exactly why he needed to dig his wound any deeper, only that he had to witness this himself, confirm the status of their relationship himself, otherwise he’d drive himself crazy in the classroom with speculation.

It was easy to follow from a distance.  Her scent had long since invaded his memory.  So what struck him first was the slightly sour notes marring her sweetness, kind of like before a class oral presentation.

She was anxious.

They stopped behind a school building, and he leaned against the wall around the corner, straining to hear their conversation.

“...Toneri-kun?”

Hinata’s voice was easy for him to pick up, and he didn’t question this realization, it was just further proof to him of his doomed infatuation.

“...I’m sorry, I tried,” she murmured.

Naruto assumed the pauses were when Toneri spoke, but they were all indistinct tones.

“I, I just don’t think...I can see you that way...I’m sorry...”

Everything in him began relaxing, the awful clenching around his heart suddenly released, and he collapsed to the ground in a crouch, not even actively trying to listen anymore.

“Because I...I like someone.”

His eyes shot open, adrenaline rushing at her words, and only one question ringing in his mind, Who?!

“I, I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that.”

Silence followed, and he started to back away, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping on what obviously was a sound rejection.

“Toneri-kun?...No, I, I, no-!”  The panic was unmistakable, her sweetness drastically souring, and he was back at the corner, straining to understand what could possibly be going on now.

A whispered “Naruto-kun-”,

And he was around the corner running, shock exploding at seeing Toneri bent too close to her, nose at her neck, Hinata backed against the building wall.  His body slammed into Toneri hard enough to make him fall to the ground.

“Hinata!”  He looked at her, checking to see that her ribbon was still secure, that she appeared unharmed, but he felt like he was going to suffocate, air not making it past his throat, a building panic and disgust roaring loudly in his core that had him turning back around to direct this somewhere, his excessive anger pinpointing Toneri, red coloring his vision too fast for him to comprehend the confused expression on the splayed boy.

He jumped on him, his fist connecting with Toneri’s face fast and hard, the knock of his white head against the ground deeply satisfying his suddenly justified instincts, and he raised his fist again to drive his point home when his arm caught midair.

He tried to yank his arm free, but the unidentified grip only proved tighter, so he raised his non-dominant hand into a fist, ready to pound into this challenger who dared to scent and claim his chosen one.

Weight pushed into his chest, light eyes taking up his whole vision.  “Naruto-kun!  Stop!”

The cacophony in his mind silenced.  A voice within responded viscerally, Omega.

“Naruto-kun.”  Milky sweetness suddenly flooded him, beating back the flames within.  Her head ducked into his chest as she clung to him.  “I’m okay, I’m really okay, you need to stop, you hurt him!”

He blinked, suddenly outside of himself.  He looked down to see Toneri shielding his face with his arms.

He stood immediately, clutching Hinata into his chest, and he backed away.  Not knowing what to do or say, he wrapped his other arm around Hinata’s shoulders, turning them around, rushing them far from his crime.

He hovered near Hinata throughout the rest of the lunch break, soaking in her sweet scent, alternately trying to forget or make sense of his loss of control.

He didn’t have to wonder for long.

Toneri’s injury didn’t go unnoticed, and he was called into the Principal’s Office.  Hinata was called in to confirm his side of the story, and then Naruto was sent to the counselor’s office.

He had been apparently so aggravated by the emotional incident that, for the first time and unknowingly, he had called on his inner Alpha into officially presenting.  But his actions were still inexcusable by school rules.

Both he and Toneri were suspended for two weeks.

The school went wild over the drama.  Even when he returned, whispered rumors of a “fight for dominance” and “claiming rights” circulated, and he couldn’t even think of approaching Hinata with such scandalous gossip surrounding them.

But sometimes, she’d tuck her hair back, or sweep the midnight strands over her shoulder, wide ribbon peeking over her shirt’s collar, wrapping her graceful, white neck in his view, then she’d look back at him, their gazes connecting for an exhilarating instant.

He didn’t need words or a confession.  From her beckoning sweet scent to her affectionate looks, from the memory of her whispering his name for help and her Omega voice calling out to his Alpha, he knew that she returned his feelings, that she was just as aware of him sitting around the corner as he was aware of her during that incident...that there was a high chance for them to start a relationship.

After they graduated.

But a long wait kindled a passionate love.

In the first year of their relationship in university, they were careful to follow the recommendations, clumsily having their first-times near the end of her heat, when she’d be conscious enough to make decisions, yet physically capable to accept any loss of control on his end.  She wanted to spend his first rut with him, too, but he decided against it, not knowing what might happen.

It was lonely.  He had never loathed a past decision so much before in his life.  No matter that he took over-the-counter suppressants to calm his Alpha’s tendencies, like keeping his knot from forming or hammering down the aggressive urge to bite into soft skin, his mind kept wandering to her, his fingers tapping into her social media for pictures of her that inevitably had him working himself into a sleeve or humping his pillows and blankets, every moment compounding frustration and dissatisfaction in a never-ending cycle, until he was phone calling her, “Just to hear your voice.”

“Oh, Naruto-kun...I miss you, too.  Are you okay?”

He was already achingly stiff, his own developed gland at his neck pulsing needfully, his Alpha aroused as if blinking suddenly awake, then thrashing to be with her.  “Mm, yeah.”

“The medicine is okay?”

He tugged on his member, his eyes closing.

“...Naruto-kun?”

He pumped himself, settling into a rhythm.  “...Yeah?”

“...Are you okay?” she repeated with more hesitation, more concern.

A harsh breath left his mouth.  “No, yeah, I just needed to hear you, Hinata,” he managed to breathe out.

“I, I missed your voice, too.”

He worked himself in his hand, imagining her whispers at his ear instead of his phone.  “I miss you.  I need you.  I need you, Hinata.”

“I wish I could help you.”

He shortly moaned.  “Yeah.  I can’t stop thinking about you.”  His train of thought quickly devolved into memories of her last heat from there, his control on his mouth snapping.  “Can’t stop thinking about your body, how I’d…”  He groaned.  “I’d fuck you so hard, Hinata-”

“Yes,” she breathed.

Shivers ran through him.  “You’d like that, right?  My hard cock driving into your dripping pussy-”

“Oh, Naruto-kun...yes…”

Blearily, he grabbed an already used sleeve, and began thrusting into it with earnest.  “You’d be so hot and slick, just gripping me so tightly-”

“Naruto-kun!”  Her voice pitched breathily.

“Fuck.  Hinata.  That’s it...”

She moaned, the hungry sound making him grind himself into the tool.

“Are you touching yourself?” he asked, trying to imagine her lewd facial expressions.

“...Yes…”

He sighed in desire and frustration, working his hips, grunting and groaning.  “...Hinata…”

“Naruto-kun…”

“You’re so soft…”

“Mm…you’re..so...mm...so big...”

Eyes closed, he lay down on his bed, and a picture of her sinking down on him, riding him, ran vividly through his mind.

“You’re so hard…”  Her sultry voice slipped around his mind like a drug, carrying him straight to the brink.

“I’m going to fill you up with my cum, over and over again.”

“Oh...please...yes…”

“Paint your insides with my seed…”  His mind faded as she breathed his name, a sound that toppled him over the edge.  He convulsed into the sleeve, pumping his hips wildly, the agony of his orgasm ripping him out of his fantasy.

When his eyes opened again, he was staring at the ceiling, utterly alone.  The imagined warmth of her body just the still air of his dorm room.

Her breaths came through the phone as his mind cleared, and he roughly apologized, “Sorry.”

“...Hm?  Oh..no, Naruto-kun, it’s, it’s okay, I understand.”

He rested, the exhaustion of his hours of lust suddenly hitting him.

“...Do you want me to come over?”

This short reprieve of his rut had him second-guessing.  He knew that once the next wave hit, he’d want her in-person.  “I don’t know, maybe, if you want…only if you want.”

“I’ll be there soon, Naruto-kun.”

She let him indulge himself between her own classes, rushing straight to him for a quickie before heading off to her next class, her womanhood and pad-lined panty sticky with the potent seed of his rut.

Numerous times that week, he wished he weren’t on medication so that he could knot her and force her to stay with him until he deflated, even if that meant she’d miss her class.

So when summer break coincided with his second rut, they talked about forgoing the medication.  He wonders if he should have known better, but of course, he couldn’t control himself.  He knotted her right away, and in his haze of animalistic lust and at the brink of orgasm, his teeth tore off her ribbon from her swollen, pink gland even though he had known it wasn’t the right time.  Her hand slapped to her neck right before he could mark her, and he ended up biting her fingers as he came.

It was awful, but she forgave him.

Close calls in their feverish, hormonal lovemaking forced both of them to start wearing locked collars on their glands with the keys in another locked cabinet.  It would be too much trouble to retrieve the keys in the throes of passion.  She had initially tried simple belted collars, thinking she’d be too foggy to deal with the buckle, but she herself would desperately remove them during the height of her heat while he pounded her into a puddle.

“Please,...Alpha,...claim me,” she breathed, stretching her neck so that he could see her bare, perfectly unscarred, and puffy scent gland.

It took everything in him to shut his eyes, while his inner Alpha raged with desire.

When she realized he couldn’t be enticed, the incident of chomping her fingers still weighing on him, she tried a different tactic.  Her teeth picked at his collar, her breath tantalizingly hot on him, her tongue licking at the exposed edges of his equally swollen gland, his heart thudding in his chest for their bond to be finalized.

If she ever bit him, even just a little, he knew he’d claim her in a heartbeat.

But she somehow held herself back every time, only teasing him with her lips and tongue, or the lightest graze of her teeth around where he desperately wanted her to bite down.  Then she’d beg for his cum, whispering dirty words he’d never imagine could leave his quiet girlfriend’s lips.

By some way or another, they managed throughout university.  He knew their parents would kill them if they bonded too soon, but after proposing to her in their final year, job-hunting, and graduation, he found less and less reasons to hold back.

He didn’t plan on marrying anyone else, and he knew Hinata didn’t plan on it, either.  So why weren’t they mated, yet?  Would their parents really be angry at them?  Technically, they were both working adults now, even if he had only just received his first paycheck.

Her intoxicatingly rich scent enveloped him, like the protective nest of blankets and pillows she’d neatly piled and encircled around them.  Her organized nest popped with distinct orange and black from his jackets and shirts, used as pillow cases to scent the entire bed if he steps away for a moment.  He himself couldn’t smell the ocean air of his scent that apparently soothes her.  Yet she curled into him, trembling and feverish with the onslaught of her fast-approaching heat, breathing in as deeply as she could at his shoulder.

He blinked slowly, the fog of her pheromones sending him through a buzzed state.  Was it his imagination, or were her heats getting denser over time, more tantalizing and sensual?  Blood was rushing low, desire accumulating slowly yet surely in his core with a certain, particular heaviness growing in his sack with the lovely, familiar scent of her heat.  His body was preparing to emulate a rut, readying to knot her, claim her, mate her.  The beast within paced itself.  His senses felt heightened in awareness of every shiver against his skin, of each puff of her breath, anticipating anything she might need of him, waiting to prove himself worthy.

She squeezed him, soft whimpers spilling from her lips as she rubbed her sensitive breasts into his side.  Her nightgown was a thin little piece, meant to provide her some semblance of modesty and keep her cool, but it made little difference to him.  Her soft thigh smoothed over his legs, her knee bumping into his erection.

Just that small stimulation had him breathing her in deeply, his eyes rolling back for a second, his heart jumping with lust.  He could tell she was almost there, almost ready to succumb to her nature.  He knew each of her signs, how she would call for him so wantonly when it was time, how her body would move enticingly, how her slick would sluice down her legs uncontrollably.

He knew her better than he knew himself.  Each facial expression, each mood, each routine, each peculiarity and detail.

He felt like he knew everything there was to know of his fiancée, and it intrigued him, frustrated him endlessly to know that there was actually still so much more for him to learn.

Turning his head, he pressed kisses into her hair and let his eyes roam down the dips and swells of her form.  “...I want to bond with you, Hinata.”

“But..we’re...not married..yet,” she breathily whispered, still clinging onto her consciousness before her Omega drove her instincts.

“I feel like we’re already married.”

“We...don’t technically...live together...yet.”

“I feel like we’re already bonded.”

“Mmm...we’re not..though.”

“You don’t want to bond?” he asked more pointedly.

“You know I do,” she answered immediately.

“Then why not now?”

“Because…”  Her voice died there.  She lifted herself up marginally, the effort apparently taxing, heat-glazing eyes barely meeting his own gaze, and he pulled her onto him for a steamy kiss.  Her tongue played with and yielded to him, letting him taste her helpless moans until they needed to breathe.  Panting, she murmured, “Can we?...bond now...?”  Her hand trailed over his bare chest, reaching for his locked collar.

“I love you, Hinata, and I can’t find any reasons to wait anymore.”

She wiggled on him, her lips rocking hotly against his own.  “I...love you..too..Naruto-kun…  Please, claim...me….tonight.”

He removed himself from her side to get the keys, making sure to soothe her worries about where he was going, then he unlocked his own collar.  His gland, swelling in response to her darkening scent, almost felt like it had a heartbeat of its own.

She lay back obediently as soon as he reappeared, and he moved over her as she turned her chin up, letting him unlock her own collar, and he tossed the leather to the ground unceremoniously.

His gaze lingered on her gland, swollen pretty and pink, delicate skin waiting to be broken.  He could bite her right now if he wanted to.  “Do you want to wait for your heat to come?”

She shook her head.  “I...can’t...wait...”

Nodding, he removed his boxers as she threw her nightgown off and rolled down her soaked panties, a heavy string of slick stretching with it.

His breath grew labored as he kneeled between her creamy legs, positioned his dick at her glistening center, and quickly sunk into her marvelous warmth, penetrating her silky folds deeply.  “I love you, Hinata.”

“I...love...you...Naru..to-kun…”  Her breaths pushed out with his long thrusts, more slick sliding out of her and covering his pelvis.  Her sweet scent was much stronger now, piercing his senses into a mindless devotion as he worked his stiff cock into her.

He fell forward, rubbing their chests together, relishing the soft give of her squirming body beneath him with a groan of approval.  He found her lips, their tongues caressing each other hungrily, her breath steaming up at him with each squishy thrust.

By the end of tonight, her soft, curvy body and her beautiful, gentle mind would be entirely his.  Her chocolatey scent would be his to taste for himself from the intimate source, sweet nectar on his tongue.

He nosed her exposed gland, breathing deeply, his tongue tracing the delicious swell.

“Naruto-kun,” she whispered, a tremor shaking her bodily as he licked her, her soft hold clenching around him.

Desire surged, the base of his piece already swelling.  “Hinata,” he groaned, trying to hold back his eager, oncoming knot, “can I claim you from the back?”

Like in the traditional pictures.  The Alpha dominating the Omega into submission first before they changed places, and the Omega ultimately choosing whether to seal the bond for life.  It wasn’t the only way, but it was the one he had frequently fantasized about as a teenager whenever Hinata was absent.  Maybe because he was always watching her from the back of the classroom, always noticing if she turned around.

Her light eyes gazed up at him through lowered lashes.  “Yes.”

He sat up, pulling her legs together against his chest.  A few thrusts into her, and she twisted onto her side, her body curving deliciously, his hands delighting in her pinched waist, her pillowy breasts, the jiggle of her ass as he slapped into her.  “Fuck.”  His knot was inflating fast, insisting on burying into her with each push.  “On your hands and knees, Omega.  Present for your Alpha.”

She gained her knees as he pulled out for a second, turning her dripping petals up to him beneath a wiggling, full ass.

He drove forward, ramming himself into her, her body opening up for his knot.  He pushed himself deeper as she took the swell of him, her lower lips closing around him, locking him in like she was made for him, her body ready for his inner Alpha to claim her.  Excitement thrilled through him, her gland prominently waiting for him with Hinata’s hair draped on the other side.  Salivating, he leaned over her prone form, hands gliding and squeezing up her smooth body until his fingers sunk into her breasts.

He tongued her gland, relishing the flutter of her cushiony flesh conforming to his tight knot, the pleasure prickling like static.  He let his teeth graze her delicate skin, the tease on his mind unbearable, yet devastating on her.

“I’m yours, I’m yours, oh, Alpha, I’m yours, please, Alpha, only yours, take me, take me-”

His lips enclosed around the swollen skin, gently suckling as she fucked herself on his knot, her ass shaking on his pelvis wildly, aromatic slick smearing all over him.  “Hinata, all mine, so cute and needy on my big cock, begging for my claim.”

“Yes, yes, please…”  Her repeated, begging promises overpowered the last of his control, his hand reaching further up to take hold of her slender neck, the possessive gesture wringing a mindlessly loud moan from her throat.

He bit.

She burst beneath him.

Hormone-rich flavor flooded his senses, ecstatic pleasure whipping at him like a pinch, grounding his body to hers as warmth pooled low, he was coming hard, but airy delight enfolded him, her scent and taste softly weighing through him.  He clung to her shivering body, hands squeezing at her skin, his fingers reaching for more of her, his cock still twitching out cum as far as he could reach.  He swallowed down more of his claim, more of the forbidden honey of her body, a devotion sealing upon him that sent his heart throbbing louder and louder, only to realize...it was hers.  Her pulse and moaning breaths so clear, he couldn’t hear himself at all.

Heat spread from his chest, circulating out until he was burning uncomfortable pins and needles across his whole body, numbing him.

Except for where they touched.

He had at some point fallen to his side, tangling her to himself as close as he could.  Need rippled through him.  His body felt empty.  His own mating gland felt tight and hot, pulling and pulsing at his neck.  Her soft skin and flesh comforted him like a drug, all of his senses zeroing in on her sensation, and he needed more of her, yet his Alpha felt weak, intoxicated, incapable of taking what he wanted.

All he could do was clutch her tightly, pierce himself into her over and over as his knot softened, suck on her skin, and listen to each of her hitching cries in attempts to soothe the aches of an incomplete bond.

Her dewy gland left his lips, and in his lust-ridden daze, he wanted to pin her back down, but he couldn’t.

He couldn’t move as she pushed his shoulder, laying him flat, as she mounted him and moved upon him.

Through bleary eyes he regarded the bouncing form of his mate, each stroke making her moans sing in his mind, her heavy pulse drumming in his ears.  His Alpha, drunk on his claim, murmured, My Omega, mine, encouraging his hands to pull her wide hips down to meet his weakened thrusts, fingers to lazily pull at her nipples as they jiggled in front of him.  Before long, she was taking in his knot again, her flaring hips swaying as she fitted herself onto him, her soft body perfectly taking him, her Omega voice whispering so sweetly, “My Alpha...”

He strained his head to the side in a helpless plea.  Never before had he felt so needy or powerless.  They had learned in Health Class about how incomplete bonds could drive someone mad.  How imbuing someone else’s essence within can lead to emotional, mental, and physical pain if left unanswered.

And he realized he would feel frightened if he didn’t trust her completely to take him in return, to glide her hands across his chest like he’s precious, to lean over him as her heated gasps and cries rang through him, to lowly murmur, “Mine,” an echo that alerted his senses enough for his body to gravitate up toward her, toward her kisses, her teeth, grazing, sinking…

He burned.

Strained.

Furiously released.

Her enticing, whimpering sounds urged him on.

A thick pulse from his gland, to his heart, to his cock.

Like a heavy thread tying him to her fluttering clutch around his throbbing piece, to her rapid pulse beating in his mind, to her caressing and insistent tongue and lips on his neck.  His whole self, not just his dick, was knotted to her for the first time.  Cum continued to spill out of him, each shot spreading fluffy euphoria over him, whitening his mind around their taut connection.

And then he could truly feel her.

Her Omega.

Pleasant, delighted comfort mirroring his own.  Her beautiful emotions washing through him, completing his until he couldn’t distinguish his own high from hers.

He turned his head, pushing her face from his gland, finding hers, and drinking her in.  He caught her dripping essence on his tongue, the warm, sweet taste whipping at him once more, drugging him.

Her heightened pleasure raced against his heart as she climbed the peak of ecstasy once more.  Striking ecstasy surged harder and harder through their bond, her orgasm crashing through him, more cum spurting out of him as she cried out her elation.

He felt endless.

Cycled and recycled in her embrace.  Needing and providing, giving and receiving, sharing and keeping.

They enjoyed their new bond straight through the start of her heat, his body not needing a break for several hours past his normal, rut-less limit.  When his piece finally softened, he noticed she wasn’t exhibiting the usual symptoms of her heat, like deliriousness and confusion.  He knew exactly what she wanted, and while he pleasured her with a dildo instead, she didn’t beg him for anything he couldn’t give.

She was less tired in the brief respites from her heat.

She seemed settled and happy, rather than struggling against her inner Omega’s needs.

“We should’ve bonded sooner,” he reflected aloud as they finally ate their first meal in over ten hours.

Sitting in his lap, she hummed in agreement, snuggling against his chest, and sighed, “I love you, Naruto-kun.”

“I love you, Hinata.”  He smiled, meeting her content expression.

Thoughts of their parents’ reactions were far from their minds.

And of course, as soon as they broke the news when her heat was over, Hinata’s father immediately forced them to have a civil marriage at the courthouse that week, even though their wedding ceremony and celebration with guests were in only a month and a half.  Hiashi made Naruto move into Hinata’s apartment immediately, even though the agreement had originally been only for her heats or his ruts.

-

They stood together, admiring the photographs of their wedding on the refrigerator.  Hinata smiled into his chest as they embraced.  “We got to get married twice,” she reflected aloud with a laugh.

“Yeah, see, not too many people get to have two weddings,” he agreed.

“And I got to have you all the time, sooner, so it’s definitely a good thing.”

“Yeah.”  He squeezed her harder, despite knowing what her sinfully angelic body would do to him.  He was thinking their parents, Hiashi included, must have remembered the effects of new bonds, and for that reason forced them to marry and move in together, beyond just for appearance’s sake and societal expectations…

He missed her all the time.  A strange loneliness even if he was surrounded by people.  And his libido was much higher than before.

He wasn’t taught that part about the bond in school.

That seeing her at the wedding in her figure-hugging gown would nearly incite an erection.  That having their first dance, even in front of all their friends and family, would make him want to grind against her like they’re in the club.  That just thinking of her at work would make him feel like he needed to rub one off in the bathroom.

It was like being on the tip of going into a rut, but staying at that edge for days, weeks.  He could still control himself easily, but if she’s in his arms here and now, there’s really no reason to stress about it.

It affected her similarly.

She was more than willing, letting him make love to her wherever they were in the apartment, just turning around, pulling her panties down, and allowing him to fit into her so that they could satisfy the physical side-effects of their bond.  “Naruto-kun,” she gasped out as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

He watched the soft skin of her ass bouncing on his hips with each of his energetic thrusts.  “Hinata, you’re so sexy.”

She hummed a disagreement that turned into a yelp as he pinched her nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers until they were hard points.

“Yes, you are.”  His dick twitched inside of her as she gasped tortured cries.  He was going to come quickly, the need beginning to boil over even though it had only been a couple of minutes.  His right hand groped her full breast, the plush skin turning him on even harder as his left reached down to find her clit.

His middle finger slid over the hot, moist hood.  One gentle stroke, and she was convulsing on him.  Two strokes, and she sobbed out his name.

A groan fell out as he pulled himself close to her, shoving his straining piece as deeply as he could and pulsing sweet release into her soft clutch.

She panted into the crook of her arm, letting him rest against her back.  “I love you.”

Smiling tiredly into her hair, he whispered, “I love you, too.”

Quickies were a solution to ease their newly mated Alpha and Omega, and gradually, over the course of the year, their cycles calmed and fell into a synchronizing rhythm.

It’s a blessing he doesn’t take for granted.  Rutting into his mate and not just any heated Omega found on dating apps.  His only partner in his whole life.

There’s nothing better than knowing he’s the only one to have ever held her, the only one to have ever been inside her, to make her gasp and cry in pleasure, to have her slick dripping down his groin, and to have his name on her wanton tongue.

To be the only one she’s ever called, “Alpha…”

To be the only one she looks at with heat-stained pink cheeks and glazed, cloudy, adoring eyes.

To hear her begging for his knot, to bear his child.

He’s lucky.

“Good girl,” he mutters before smashing his lips to hers, her squeals hot on his tongue.  Sucking kisses down her jaw, he buries his face at her neck and nudges into her until she opens up for his knot completely.  “Take it.”  Elation tickles at his extremities, and he holds her soft body closer.

Tense hands press into his back, and her silky flesh pulls at him with insistent tugs around his knot.  She arches into him with mindless, urgent praises.

Hot spurts of cum leave his aching cock, and he shudders against her smaller, trembling form.  Groaning, he jerks into her, pressing his straining piece as deeply as he can.

Her still-broken gasps, the pull of her body, and the vibrant scent of her gland promise him a long climax, and he imagines the concentrated seed of his rut soaking into her cervix.

She’s probably already pregnant from their first round with the fertile conditions of their bond, but that knowledge only stirs his Alpha’s primal instincts.

In some bygone evolutionary past, unmated outsiders of the pack would be drawn to a pregnant female’s “glow,” her shroud of strongly attractive aroma meant to encourage her own mate to stay close and provide...

Itʻs a medical fact that soon Hinata’s enticing scent will lure others with little self-control.

So he just needs to make sure they know she’s his.

Sitting up, he leisurely grinds into her jolting body, delighting in each tortured cry.  She’s still sensitive to the touch, but he strokes the slanting curves of her hips, around to her soft thighs near his torso, then back up her body to squish into her tits.  Minutes of caressing her body pass, and his knot gradually deflates, allowing him to stab into her with longer thrusts.  “Hina...you feel how hard I still am for you?”

She nods with a blissful smile.  “Naruto-kun,” she coos.

“Yeah.”  He grabs her wrists and brings her hands down, silently encouraging her to feel their sloppy connection below.

Dutifully, her hand encircles the base of his length as he pulls out, dripping with their cum, while he has her other hand smear against her steamy womanhood.  “My Alpha’s made me so wet,” she comments, her cloudy eyes lidded in sensual intimacy.

He takes her hands and flattens them against her stomach, then glides them up to her full breasts.  Watching her touch herself, he groans as he penetrates back into her slick folds.  “Feel how soft you are?  Feel how your body makes me so hard for you?”

The pink of her cheeks deepens as she moans, and he pierces her a few more times before withdrawing once more.

He drags his cock along her thigh and rubs the mess into her creamy skin.  He scoops the dribbling loads from her pussy and smoothes it across her tummy.  “Rub it in.”

She does the rest without prompting, her fingers reaching down to her lower lips spread around the tip of his girth before drawing back up to trace shining patterns over her skin.

Grinding into her, he watches her hands dip over the slopes of her body, her fingers shamelessly lingering at her nipples, pleasuring herself, leaving their cum shining on her areolas.  “Pretty tits,” he grunts, leaning down to nip at the jiggling, erect buds.

Suddenly she tenses up, writhing beneath him, her breasts pillowing against his face.  Her stressed grip clenches at his biceps, and he looks up to see her agonized expression.

Her eyes closed in rapture.

Swollen lips wide open, her jaw working around a breathless scream.

Velvety folds tighten around him, inviting him to snuggle deeper as her creamy fluid splashes down his balls.  Pride sizzles through him at the tell-tale signs of a well-loved Omega, the idea of her soon-to-be multiple, repeated orgasms exciting him.

She bucks up at him, quietly begging, “More…knot...need…knot…”

Pulling out, he flips her onto her stomach.  Using his knees to spread her legs apart, he glides his piece along the length of her crack, steamy slick sticking to her ass cheeks as he compares his engorged size to her smaller body.

“Naru-”

He slides back into her spread petals, rapidly pounding into her.  Avidly watching her ass bounce against him, he slaps the pale skin to bright red, earning him ecstatic squeals.  That familiar pinching surges low, and he’s swollen again, his knot taut and full, but her dripping folds easily wrap around him as he pushes in.

She gasps mindless words of appreciation that devolve into a moan once he reaches beneath her to stroke her slippery clit.  One, two, three hard rubs with his fingers, and her passage tightens up in rhythmic tugs on his knot.

His eyes roll back as she forces his ejaculate out, a snarl fixed into his jaw.  His fingers push into her clit as he grinds into her, ensuring a torturous orgasm that leaves her breathlessly climbing another peak soon after.

“A-Alpha, oh, Alpha!”  Creamy slick leaks around his knot as she writhes enticingly beneath him, and within a minute, her soaked walls are massaging his hot length once more in trembling ecstasy.

Grunting, he squirts out the last of his load, adrenaline streaming hot-cold from every extremity, tingling pleasure washing through and seeping into her.

He collapses, pulling her to their sides.  Eyes falling closed, he focuses his senses on the chocolatey taste of her honey dripping on his tongue, the melty feeling of his cock nestled securely in their shared moisture, and the softness of her areolas puckered into tight nubs between his fingers.  He enjoys her squirming ass in his lap, the thumping beat of her heart in the background of his mind, her loving sighs.

Teasing pleasure tickles at his inner beast, and possessive affection blooms strong within.

An instinctive pressure in his chest to hold her close and never let go.

Ebbing and flowing through his veins, emotion rising like an incoming tide.  It’s still hardly the start of their first acclimated bond together; they’re only just entering the final stage of the mating process.

Her heady scent is stronger than ever, and he’s sinking into it.  The pitching climax of their bond has him relinquishing control to her needs, his body easily responding to her desires. They’re reaching a new depth and alignment in their relationship that excites and mystifies him, will conceivably drag him under and rebirth him.

“Do..do you hear that?”  Her breathless voice is barely audible over the faint, singing hum he can feel trembling through them, a primordial tone of mates only ever described, never recorded.

“Yeah.”  Content attachment fizzes through him, bubbles across his skin, and he cuddles her close, snuggling his piece deep.

She turns her head, hot blush dusted across her cheeks, warm lips and tongue slotting perfectly with his.

He is meant for this, meant for her to be meant for him.  Maybe the gods didn’t tie red threads between their fingers, but she twined him in herself.  Each look, word, scrap of attention paid tangled them, sewed his soul to hers in a way their bodies can only attempt to replicate in sinfully sweet ritual.

“Naru..mm…”  Her light gasps mist at his tongue with each rock into her body, and he drinks each breath in, savors the pure adoration and unremitting arousal he can taste from her lips.

“I know, Hinata, I know.”  Sweet craving and even sweeter indulgence wrap beautifully about him, and he draws them deeper to sweetest release.

[feirceangel]

Imagine | The Bridge (Lost Boys)

Imagine finally meeting your soulmates.

Warning: this contains themes of suicide. Please don’t read if you are uncomfortable with that.

Word Count: 888

~

Everything was supposed to get better.

At least that's what you told yourself each day after running away from your hometown.

It's going to be better tomorrow.

You were wrong.

It didn't get better after you escaped the abuse. It didn't get better after you abandoned everything you had ever known to pursue some fleeting glimmer of happiness.

You never did find that lasting joy.

Sure, some things brought momentary relief from the pain and the numbness, but they always faded.

It seemed like nothing would fill the gap within your soul.

~

Santa Carla: the murder capital of the world. Home to the lost people of the Earth who are just looking for a place to exist.

A place of refuge for the outcasts and outsiders.

You thought it'd be fitting, so that's why you're standing on the Santa Carla boardwalk. Backpack slung over your shoulder, your dull eyes observe the crowd that moves in waves.

A few years ago, the scene would be enough to bring a smile to your countenance. Now, though, the crowd seems uninviting and your expression remains neutral.

You came to Santa Carla for one reason: it would be easy to loose oneself here.

And that's what you plan on doing.

Disappearing forever.

Sighing, you walk along the beach aimlessly. One last look at the brilliant stars in the sky before you go through with it.

Moonlight reflects across the waves, creating a beautiful spectacle. The sight disappears as you walk away from the ocean.

Your feet find their way to your destination: a bridge following the railroad tracks overlooking thick fog.

Walking down the train tracks, you make it to the middle of the bridge and sit with your legs hanging over the side.

Slinging off the backpack, you rummage through it, find the old whiskey bottle, and take a long gulp. Your fingers close around an old picture of you as a smiling child.

The innocent days of youth captured in a simple photograph.

A tear slides down your cheek as you let it go over the edge of the bridge, watching as it drowns in the fog.

Laying back, you behold the starry heavens and cry freely. Your fingernails bite into your palms as your fists close tightly.

You take another long draught of the alcohol and let loose a sob. No one can see you here anyways.

An hour passes of your thinking and drinking as you lay there. Finally, you stand.

Violent winds rise from nowhere but die just as suddenly. You think nothing of it, swaying unsteadily on your feet. Your vision is a bit blurred too.

Enraged, you throw the empty bottle in your hand into the white abyss. You almost loose balance and tumble off, which makes you laugh.

~

Laughter fills the night air, coming from the very drunk girl atop the train bridge. The Lost Boys have been following her for some time, feeling a strong pull towards her.

The mating bond, signifying that their soulmate was near. They found her and trailed her here.

When she dropped the picture, Marko chased after it, curiosity eating away at him. He brought it back to the hiding spot and showed it to the others.

The picture showed a smiling girl holding a few dandelions as the sun shone around her. She looked so happy.

David silently watched as the girl stood to her feet and threw the whiskey bottle.

Now, her sad laughter unnerves the four.

They have an idea about what she is about to do, and they don't like it at all.

"Let's go," David orders, walking along the tracks towards the girl.

The others follow him.

~

Your laughter has turned into sobs as you sway on your feet. One more step and it all would be over.

Footsteps interrupt your train of thought as four handsome boys approach you carefully.

"Hey, gorgeous. What are you doing up here?" The one who seems to be the leaders asks you.

You frown at the unexpected visitors and look over the fog, "None of your business."

"C'mon, doll. Step away from the ledge, you might fall."

"So what if I did?" You mumble, swaying with the wind. "No one'd mind."

"I would," he persists.

You laugh, "You don't even know me."

"I would like to," his earnestness startled you. His blue eyes are piercing into yours, radiating earnestness and hope.

Why would this stranger care when those who were once close to you didn't?

"You came at a bad time," you mumble.

He smirks, "Or at just the right time." At silence from you, he continues, "Come with us."

"I don't know you," you say, even though it feels like you do. They feel familiar and welcoming.

"I'm David. That's Dwayne, Marko, and Paul."

"Y/n."

"Come with us, Y/n. You won't feel powerless again."

"Who told you I felt powerless?"

He smirks again, "Just had a feeling."

You think, or try to think. The alcohol isn't helping your mind any.

If you go with them, what's the worst that could happen?

"You still want me to tag along?"

The curly haired one smiles brightly, "Of course."

You can't help but smile back a bit, "Alright then, let's go."

They allow their happiness to show as they carefully lead you to their awaiting motorbikes, thankful to have finally found you.

[destiniesfic]

132 Hours, Chapter 15

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“But that’s ridiculous,” I protest. “You hurt me all the time.”

Previous

Check out the fic playlist!

Read chapter 15 on AO3 or read below:

The day is bright and pleasant, but the sunlight and soft breeze are an assault on my senses after my time underground. I limp to the ambulance, which is parked on the grass, rear doors open, waiting for me. I ease myself to sit in the back, next to Cardan, who inexplicably has a blanket tightly wrapped around his shoulders. When I’m no longer standing, I sigh. I’d thought that after sitting and lying down for days I’d be desperate to move, but it turns out I’m actually very tired. When no one is looking at us, Cardan leans over and nuzzles my nose with his.

I smile at him weakly. Everything is too much and not enough. It seems to me that I am watching Madoc and Balekin talk to the detectives from very far away, like they are characters on a TV show. I just want to go back to the Amagansett house—or my actual house, hours away—and curl up in a bed that’s mine. But that fantasy leads to complications too. What will Oriana say when she learns what I’ve done? What will Taryn say?

Not wanting to spiral, I search for anything else to talk about. “Are you cold?” I ask Cardan, glancing at the blanket.

“Oh, no. It’s for shock or something.” He looks down at himself. His kitschy t-shirt is partially obscured now. “But, you know, free blanket.”

“Yeah,” I say, like that makes perfect sense. My head is spinning. “Was Balekin… happy to see you?”

He sets his jaw. “He was glad I wasn’t dead, I guess. But that’s about the only thing I did right.”

I look down as my fingers curl into my palms. I don’t examine how much I want to wrap my hands around Balekin’s throat. “My dad knows,” I whisper. “About us. I think I’ve talked him out of killing you.”

“That’s good. I’d really rather not die after surviving all of this already.”

“You’re taking this really well.”

Cardan shrugs. “If we’re bonded now, and your father isn’t going to kill me, that means I’m part of your family. Dain is dead, and Balekin will find it harder to touch me.”

“Oh,” I say dully. No wonder he wasn’t that mad at me mating him. We can’t stay in the basement forever, but he still has a way out. It makes sense. I can hardly blame him.

“Not that I’m necessarily thrilled that your dad could have any sway over me, given that he’s maybe a murderer and almost as scary as you are.”

“Right.”

He cocks his head at me, sensing my reticence. “Jude.”

I look away.

He leans over again and nudges the nape of my neck with his nose. “Hey.”

“What.”

Cardan chuckles, but it sounds nervous. “Jude, I’ve thought about mating with you since I was fourteen. And back then it made me feel panicky and trapped—”

“That’s just what every omega wants to hear.”

“God dammit. Look, I’ve always been afraid to want things—not clothes and shoes and shit, things that matter—because they’re always ruined. I always screw them up, or someone else screws it up for me. This is…” Out of the corner of my eye, I see him look down at his hands. “I didn’t want it to happen this way, because who would? But I want to help you through the next heat, and the next one. Actually do it right. I want to be your mate, Jude.”

I turn back around to stare at him, incredulous. “You want that?”

He nods, slowly.

“But you—you didn’t. For days, you didn’t. You held off and it should have been impossible if you actually—wanted me.”

“Well, it felt impossible.” He lets out another nervous chuckle. “I wanted you so bad, but more than that I wanted you to want me. I didn’t want to just go and mount you or whatever the hell I’m supposed to do. For once, I wanted to be better. Sounds crazy, right?”

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “It does. You wanted to mate with me so bad that you didn’t mate with me.”

“Jude. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“But that’s ridiculous,” I protest. “You hurt me all the time.”

“Yeah, I did.” Cardan looks down at his knees. “But not like that. Never like that. I may have made some off-color jokes, but I would never have done what Valerian tried to do. I mean, I hoped I wouldn’t, and now I know.”

“You made me miserable.”

“I know.”

“I definitely shouldn’t want you as a mate.”

“No, I guess you shouldn’t.” Cardan sounds resigned, and hangs his head. “Well, the pheromone marker cleansing is kind of time-consuming and expensive and unpleasant, but I guess—”

I thought hurting him might feel good, but it just feels like a hollow pang in my chest. I ask, “You want me to be your mate, though?”

He looks up at me with those dark eyes. “Yes,” he says.

I nod. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He stares at me, a grin that he doesn’t dare unleash just yet tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Yes. I hated you so much for so long because you smelled so good and you were so mean. So if you could stop being mean for a while, and you’ve proven you have, I think we could find some common ground.”

Cardan sniffs. “Well, I may have to remain a little mean. For the sake of my reputation.”

“We’ll see.”

“You don’t want me totally defanged, do you?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

He laughs, then he lowers his head to nuzzle again, this time at the bite mark he left on my neck. I am flooded by his delight. From nearby, someone clears their throat. We look up to find a paramedic standing in front of us, face half-hidden by a surgical mask, patiently waiting for us to submit ourselves to examination.

“Oh,” I say. “Uh.”

Cardan, who is utterly without shame, is grinning when he straightens up. “Actually, we’re both fine, thanks.”

“That’s for us to determine,” says the paramedic. Something about him is oddly familiar, but his height and build are totally nondescript. Where could I have seen him before? “To start, we’re going to make sure you’re not concussed.”

Cardan just groans.

The paramedic bends at the waist and takes a penlight out of his pocket. “Just look into the light here for me.”

That voice. It’s the voice. I narrow my eyes at him. It is weird, on second thought, that he’s wearing a mask. It’s not like we’re possibly carrying an infectious disease. Cardan raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t move as the light shines into one pupil. “This is a surprise,” he says, without blinking. “And also, you have to admit, pretty dumb.”

“Suicidal,” I hiss through my teeth. I’m strangely angry. They had to know what a risk it was to come back. They could have gotten away clean. “What are you guys doing here? If my dad catches you—”

“Are you going to tell him?” the Roach asks. He doesn’t sound too worried, which irks me.

I press my lips together, then say, “I should.”

Another of the paramedics kneels at my feet, his sandy head bent. The Ghost. Certainly less conspicuous than the Roach, with his scars. He’s tall, sure, but handsome in a way that’s totally generic. In fact, I’d have a difficult time describing him beyond “tall” and “symmetrical.” He picks up the leg that he shot to dress the wound, once again.

“We had to talk to you,” he says. Always to the point.

Suddenly I am sure that if I turned and looked behind me into the ambulance, the Bomb would wink at me from the driver’s seat. Part of me is relieved they’re okay, and the other part is baffled and horrified at my relief. But they did take care of us through some pretty gross and awful times. They kept me fed, kept me hydrated, kept us company. Maybe it’s natural to feel some degree of attachment.

“Why?” Cardan asks, baffled, as the Roach shines a light in his other eye. “You guys should be on a plane to Morocco by now.”

“Morocco?” I ask.

“It’s pretty. Also, no extradition policy.”

“Why do you even know that?”

Cardan shrugs.

“Look,” the Roach says, “we’re short on time. Your brother and Madoc are going to come over and tell you Dain killed himself out of shame when his plan was discovered. He left a note, confessing, yadda yadda. It’s bullshit. He didn’t commit suicide.”

“What?” Cardan and I ask, in unison.

I shake my head, as if trying to shake off our now unshakeable connection. “Then what happened to him?”

The Ghost doesn’t say anything, or even fully turn his head, but without lifting his eyes from my leg, he somehow indicates where Madoc and Balekin stand, in conversation with the police.

“No,” I whisper. It sounds naive, even to me, but I don’t want to believe Madoc is capable of those horrors, even though the fear our kidnappers expressed when they spoke of him seemed real. “No, it—Dain was a client, he and Madoc were friends—”

“Do you think that would matter if Dain went after Madoc’s family?” the Roach asks.

My stomach turns. “How do you know Dain didn’t kill himself?”

“Because he wouldn’t,” Cardan says quietly. “He’s Dain. He’d think he’s clever enough to find a way out, even if everyone was closing in on him, and he’d probably be right.”

“We don’t know exactly what happened,” the Roach continues. He makes a show of fiddling with the stethoscope around his neck. “We just know that he was increasingly agitated about the way negotiations were going, and then we suddenly had no contact. I went to his office, then to his place. Coroner beat me there. Single gunshot wound to the chest, pistol with his prints on it. Seemed open and shut.”

I sense Cardan’s horror, and look to see that he’s gone pale. I lay my hand on top of his. Something tells me that he doesn’t have much of an issue believing that Balekin is capable of murder, even of a brother. And Cardan clearly didn’t like Dain, but what does that mean for his safety?

“You couldn’t have waited around and told us this in the basement?” I ask, feeling again like I am observing this all from afar, watching a scene in a movie that just happens to star me.

“We didn’t know what Dain told them before he died, so we had to clear out pretty fast. Left your stuff with the cops so you’d be found, left the door unlocked so you could leave whenever you wanted. Besides.” He raises one eyebrow. “You guys were busy.”

I flush; it’s true that Cardan and I couldn’t and wouldn’t have been able to go anywhere once we’d finally given ourselves over to each other. But all of this is too much. “Well, we can’t trust you.”

“You can’t trust your dad,” the Ghost says. “We’ve never lied to you.”

“You did shoot her,” Cardan points out. “Most people would say that’s worse.”

The Ghost just shrugs.

“Look, believe us or don’t,” the Roach says. “But you have to admit that something’s rotten here. You’re going to need help. Eyes and ears. And I also hear that one of you is coming into a very large sum of money and a considerable amount of corporate influence in a little less than a year.”

“There it is,” I mutter.

But Cardan looks delighted. “Do you guys have a business card you can leave with me or something?”

“Are you planning to kidnap anybody?” I demand.

“No, but I could use the help,” Cardan admits. “He’s right. Once I come into that inheritance, there’s going to be a huge target on my back.”

“We’ll call you. In the meantime, you’ve got a clean bill of health.” The Roach pats his shoulder. “Good for you.”

“Thanks, man.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see two figures break away from the detectives and begin approaching us. I say, “You’d better clear out.”

The Roach doesn’t thank me, but he gives me a little nod before disappearing around the side of the ambulance, whistling. That’s what passes for honor among thieves, I suppose. The Ghost remains, having drawn the short straw, his generically handsome features apparently working to render him inconspicuous.

“How is she?” Madoc asks him. I make myself look up at his face and try not to think about how, if what the Roach said is true, he might have recently pulled the trigger on one of Cardan’s brothers. The other brother stands next to him, looking less sour than before.

The Ghost stands. “They’re both good to go,” he says. “It looks like she sprained her ankle a few days ago, but it’s healing well.”

“The wound on her leg?”

“Nothing serious.”

Madoc nods, and then turns to me. The Ghost melts back into the scenery as though he wasn’t even there to begin with. No mystery as to how he got that codename.

Balekin stands at Madoc’s side, both men casting shadows across our knees. Madoc’s arms are folded, and Balekin’s jaw is set. I see his eyes find my hand resting on top of Cardan’s, but for some reason I am not at all worried about censure. Not from him.

Balekin says, “We’ve been given leave to take you back to your homes to rest, provided you return tomorrow to give your statements to the police. No one here wishes to… prolong your ordeal.”

“Wait,” I say, my heartbeat picking up in my chest. “Wait. Nobody’s told us what’s going on. Where’s Dain? How do we know he won’t try again?”

“He’s dead,” Madoc declares. “When he realized he wasn’t going to get away with it, that he had no other recourse…”

I swallow. I had hoped he’d say something else, anything else. “Oh. I see.”

Cardan covers his discomfort with a snicker. “Well, good riddance.”

“We’re hoping you can help us fill in the rest of the gaps once you’re up to sharing what, exactly, happened over the past five days,” Balekin says.

“I don’t know how much help we’ll be,” Cardan replies, shrugging loosely. “If it was Dain, we never saw him. And the guys who took us all wore masks.”

I’m surprised at how easily he lies, but maybe I shouldn’t be. I have to reevaluate everything I thought about his childhood; it probably involved a lot of lying to Balekin. Madoc doesn’t seem to notice anything, and it’s hard to get bullshit by him. He just watches me with a quizzical expression.

“Well, maybe you’ll remember something useful after you’ve had your rest.” Balekin jerks his head toward the waiting car, already beginning to walk away, assuming Cardan will follow. “Come on.”

Cardan glances at me with uncertainty, then begins to stand. I take his hand again and pull him back down. “No.”

Balekin turns around. “What did you say?”

I stand now, keeping hold of Cardan’s hand. “I said ‘no.’ I’m sure you have business back in the city. Cardan can come stay with us.” I look at Madoc and try to reassure myself that he is the safer choice. “There’s plenty of room in the house.”

“There is,” Madoc agrees, his tone carefully neutral.

“So it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

Balekin looks angry. He doesn’t want to lose his influence on Cardan. “That’s very generous, but I have just gotten my youngest brother back, and I’m not eager to let him out of my sight.”

“He’ll be under Madoc’s protection.”

“You have to admit, it does seem safer,” Cardan chimes in. He seems a little dumbstruck by the way the whole situation is unfolding. Maybe no one’s ever stood up to Balekin before. Certainly

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Balekin says, trying to loom over me. He is tall, but tall doesn’t faze me. “I’m his brother. I’ve been his guardian since he was a child. I will be taking him back.”

“Well, Cardan isn’t a child anymore. He’s an adult, and I’m his mate,” I say, sticking up my chin. “And he is coming with me.”

I yank hard on Cardan’s hand, bringing him to his feet, and start off toward the car Madoc came in. Out of the corner of my eye I see Cardan, smiling, give his brother a shrug. “Omegas,” he says. “What are you gonna do?”

What, indeed. I don’t even know what I am going to do. Everything that happened in the last one hundred and thirty-two hours seems to have pushed us so much further down the road to a strange and dangerous adulthood. I don’t know if either of us are ready for what lies ahead, much less ready to defy our dangerous parental figures or negotiate the relationship we’ll have once I’m in college.

But it doesn’t matter, not right now. Because I have just pulled off a bigger heist than the Ghost, the Roach, and the Bomb could ever dream of. Because Cardan’s hand is in mine. Because his smile is, as always, contagious, so I am smiling too. Because we survived our trial, so maybe we can survive anything. Because he would choose me, and I chose him. Because neither of us is alone. Because he is my mate.

The rest, we’ll figure out when it comes.

[purplebearsoul]

Unwanted

The war meeting had ended, and one minute later, the maps, parchments, books, everything related to the upending battle vanished. Gwyn was already used to the magic of the House, but it still amused her how, in a matter of seconds, there were big pillows instead of the uncomfortable, official chair; a table of finger foods and another of beverages appeared on one corner of the room just as a piano popped out of nowhere near one of the windows. 

The change in the atmosphere was also undeniable. Nobody talked about armies or military strategies; it was as if they were just a group of old friends. Emphasis on the old. 

“Here was I believing you were already accustomed to it.” A deep, soft voice whispered from behind her. “Guess I was wrong seeing your jaw is almost touching the floor.”

“You know, it isn’t wise to sneak up on a deadly Valkyrie warrior.” Her voice was steady, even though her heart was skipping some beats as it always did whenever Azriel was close. 

He snorted. Gwyn twisted in her heels to face the cocky smirk that would be on his face, just to annoy her. It actually didn’t. She only told him it did because she knew Az would keep using that grin if he thought it pissed her off.  “Double win,” she thought. 

“Do you think you could knock me out?” he teased.

“Sure do.” she drawled.

Azriel’s eyes gleamed at her taunting tone. She truly believed he’d tell her they could go to the ring right now and solve this. And after her humiliating defeat in their last match, she wouldn’t back away. 

They’ve been staring at each other for a long while when Mor interrupted. “Why the hell neither of you are drinking?” She shoved two glasses filled with an amber liquid in their hands. 

Azriel clinked his drink with Gwyn’s, kissed her and Mor on the cheeks, and walked away. The blonde female dragged Gwyn towards the pillows around the hearth. They set near Feyre and Nesta, who had Nyx propped up on her legs. 

Gwyn fussed and played with the baby boy who was trying to grab her copper hair but, for some reason, wouldn’t leave his aunt’s lap. 

“You’ll never get him from me. He loves me more than his parents.” Nesta gloated. Feyre rolled her eyes, though a smile danced on her lips. 

Nyx looked at her and laughed. Her eyes shone, and she lifted the little Illyrian on the air. Gwyn’s heart swelled seeing her friend _her sister_ so happy; the girl who thought she didn’t deserve love and care finally saw herself as everyone else did. 

The priestess scanned the room for her other chosen sister. Emerie stood near a window casually talking to Cassian, Rhys, and Balthazar. It suited Em to be among those males because she was as much of a leader as any one of them. 

A bittersweet sensation passed through her heart. What had she done to earn all of that...? 

"What's with the long face, Gwynie?" Mor asked. "Don't start to overthink now, okay? This is a party, or as near of a party as we will get these next few months. Enjoy it!" She patted Gwyn on the shoulder and went to get another round of drinks. 

"She's right, you know?" Feyre sighed, "We won't have much fun for a long time, so we'll need to enjoy whatever happy moment we can find." She offered Gwyn a smile. 

After that, the priestess relaxed a bit more and even struck a casual conversation with her High Lady about the Valkyrie training. While Feyre said she'd try to go to more training sections, Gwyn noticed a redheaded male staring at her. 

The fae talked to Thesan _ High Lord of the Dawn Court _, but his gaze was fixed on her. Eris was his name. She remembered it from one of her previous lessons with Az about the Courts. He was the heir of the Autumn Court and their ally against Beron and Koschei. 

Gwyn grew uneasy under his focused gaze. "Why is he staring at me?" She asked Feyre, who became aware of Eris's stare and groaned.

"Knowing Eris as I do, he might be considering asking for your hand." She grimaced.

A shudder went through Gwyn's spine. Whatever it was, she was going to clear that up. "Be right back." Feyre nodded when she got up. 

She pretended to be walking toward the food table and detected Eris in the corner of her eyes; he excused himself and followed her. She waited for him to catch up with her and whirled to confront the infamous ally. 

"Have we been presented yet?" he questioned before she could open her mouth.

"From the way you were gawking me, one would think so." She answered the first thing that came to mind. She covered her mouth immediately because it was a stupid move to express her discontent so bluntly. 

To Gwyn's surprise, Eris chuckled. "I'd definitely remember if we have. I'm Eris." He said, offering one hand.

"Gwyn." The priestess said, shaking his hand.

As his eyes locked on hers, she felt her hands becoming sweaty. Eris released their shake. He began to ask questions, a genuine effort to get to know the female. Even though she felt awkward, Gwyn appreciated his attempt. So she answered every question honestly, asking a few herself.

Their conversation fell at a comfortable pace, a huffed laugh every now and then escaping Gwyn's throat. She began to consider that Eris wasn't as awful as everyone thought. 

A beautiful sound floated through the room, and everybody turned to admire Thesan play. His lovely brown fingers touched each key with skill and care. 

Eris leaned and whispered in Gwyn's ear, "Would you give me the pleasure of a dance?"

She nodded, allowing him to sweep her to the middle of the room. She noticed as Nesta and Cassian followed their lead. Soon most faes were dancing or at least swaying in place. But there was one who was standing frozen beside the hearth, a livid expression clouding his handsome features. 

Gwyn dodged his glare because she didn't see the rage in it. It was bad enough her struggle to smothered the fury emerging inside her. She hated whenever his emotions ran through her, for it only reminded Gwyn of the one thing she could never have. The bond she would never reveal. The fact she would always conceal. 

If Az hadn't sought her out, it could only mean he didn't want the bond; he didn't want her as his mate. He only saw Gwyn as a friend, and the rage of seeing her dance with Eris was because he feared the male would hurt her. Or at least, that was what she kept telling herself. 

[demonprincezeldris]

It was Meliodas who answers the question, although one would not really consider what he did a proper answer. A distressed whimper sounded the moment the question had sounded, Meliodas pulling away from the commandments. Shocked at his sudden rejection, the demons let him go and the little omega hid behind his alpha, looking up at Zeldris with large, pleading eyes. After a few minutes Zeldris seems to understand his mate’s request.

“I’m afraid Meliodas isn’t comfortable with that.” Zeldris explains, “I personally wouldn’t mind creating a pack bond but Meliodas wouldn’t like it for some reason.”

“What!?” It was Derrière who cried out, outraged, “Why the hell’s not!? We’ve done nothing to warrant rejection!”

Meliodas’ shaking increased a bit as his distressed whimpers grew louder, but instead of hiding further the little demon actually darted closer to the handicapped demoness, hugging her flesh arm close with large eyes. Derrière paused her rant as she looked into them,

“N-not you.” Meliodas stutters out, shaking like a leaf as he tries to convey that he isn’t rejecting all of them, he just isn’t ready for all of them and only one of them will never be allowed to bind him. “I… w-wouldn’t mind… you. B-b-but not yet. Not a-all of you. A-and only some. Not all.”

Derrière felt her hearts soften. Oh… so that as what it was, the little omega just wasn’t ready for a large pack yet after so many years of hiding it. Now that she thought of it, even back then they never had a pack bond with him. He had bound them to him but he never allowed anyone else to form a back bond in return except for Zeldris, they had assumed it was to protect royal secrets or the like.

“Of course, sweetheart.” She mumbles, reaching down to pull him into a hug so she can muzzle and groom him to calm the omega’s shivering. “Forgive me for misunderstanding, of course we won’t force you into a bond yet. Well do this when you are ready for it.”

Meliodas relaxed into her hold, purring resuming from her grooming. Once he was out of it, placed in a trance of comfort and care, Derriere turned to Zeldris,

“Is he always this shy after his heat?” She whispers, careful not to disturb the dozing demon. Zeldris nods,

“Yeah. He’s so busy being strong all the time the only time he ever lets himself be an omega is when he’s in heat or post heat. It makes him really skittish and shy during those times. Adorable, right?”

Of course Meliodas' reasoning for not wanting to form a large pack bond at the moment is understandable. Of course the commandments respect his wishes and tell him that he's in no rush. The offer still stands. Maybe when Meliodas becomes more comfortable he'll consider making a pack bond with them.

Despite everything, Meliodas' actions are adorable, his wide eyes and nervous energy are the cutest. They've never seen it from Meliodas before. They've usually seen him as cold-hearted and Alpha-like, in order to sway his father that he was an Alpha. His heats were the only time that Meliodas was truly able to let his Omega tendencies free.