#so i've been calling her 'fae' in my head

[wildmelon]

guys which horns 😭

[danikamariewrites]

Hi! I have a Cassian request. Could you a do request that's somewhat spoiler free? I'm about midway in acomaf( I know late to the game lol) I've got a good amount of fics reblogged but I've also been nervous to read them. Maybe reader is rhys's little sister and he made clear rule from day one that is inner circle isn't allowed to touch her. But reader Cass have been secretly dating and then their mating bond goes into effect so they can't necessarily hide it anymore. Maybe feyre is the only one that knows until then.

Secrets I Keep

Cassian x Rhys’s sister!reader

Notes: Cass is the best bat boy for the brother’s best friend’s trope! I know you asked this a while ago so I need to know if you’ve finished yet, ACOMAF is one of my favorites.

Warnings:

Bidding Feyre goodnight you shut the door behind her. Letting out a sigh of relief and slumping against the door you look to the closet. When Feyre had come to your bedroom over an hour ago thats where you had stuffed your poor boyfriend. Stalking over to the closet you thanked the Mother that the newly turned fae female couldn’t pick up on Cassian’s scent.

Yanking the door open you immediately spot Cassian curled up, trying to hide behind your more formal gowns. His wings, unfortunately, gave the General away. As well as his long, muscular legs that he attempted to tuck close to his chest.

Stifling a laugh with an unconvincing throat clearing sound Cass pokes his head out from behind the layers of silk and tule. “You can come out now.” Cassian lets out a sigh, groaning as he stood from the tightness in his joints. You laugh at him, a teasing remark already forming in your mind.

Cass towers over you, giving you a playful smirk. “What are you laughing at, princess?” “Just an old man and his creaky joints.” He shakes his head at you, quickly grabbing you and flinging you over his shoulder, tickling your sides. Giggling like crazy you playfully demand he put you down. Cassian throws you on your bed, crawling over your body to press kisses all over your face.

Getting a weird feeling you notice a new source of light from the corner of your eye. Turning your head you see Feyre standing in your doorway, eyes wide and mouth open in shock at the sight before her. You hit Cassian’s chest to get him to stop. Noticing Feyre’s presence Cass turns to her.

Sitting up, your mouth opens and closes, at a loss for what to say. “Don’t tell Rhys!” You blurt out. Feyre nods, slowly backing out of your room, “I got your back, don’t worry.” She says with a smirk.

——

It’s been over a month since Feyre was last in the Night Court. Now that she’s a permanent resident you’ve been helping her adjust to life here and working for your brother.

Today you decided to make a rare appearance before noon, joining the group for training early.

You stayed off to the side for a bit, watching Feyre spar with Cassian. You noticed some of Cassian’s signature moves as they fought. Smiling to yourself you remember when Cass started training you.

Yeah, you’d had some training but your father didn’t want you near Illyrian. Especially because of your wings. You had inherited the same ability as Rhys - being able to call your wings on command - but you also had a fear that one day you might be forced to show them in the camps. And nothing good could come from that.

When the boys came home from the first war Cassian took it upon himself to make sure you were a warrior. Rhys had told both Azriel and Cass you were not in the dating pool. But the sparks flew during your training and you couldn’t stay away. Your relationship finally started a year ago. Ever since you’ve been in a state of bliss, blindly in love for the first time in your life.

Rhys landed, his wings beating loudly, commanding attention. You roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Hello Feyre darling. Are you ready for another lesson?” He holds out a hand for her to take, his wings disappearing in that familiar dark mist. You had missed seeing his magic. You missed him.

Feyre nodded, taking his hand, leaving you and Cassian alone. As they walked past Feyre sent you a subtle wink you prayed Rhys didn’t catch.

As you and Cass sparred you grabbed you around the waist, bringing you to the ground. You fought against his bulky frame, trying to get leverage to flip him. “Give up yet, princess? You look like you’re running out of steam.”

“You wish idiot!” you retort, still struggling. Cassian laughs, “Wow, idiot? That’s all you got today?”

You weakly punch at his thick thighs caging in your torso. “I’d think of something else, but a giant is cutting off the air supply to my brain.” Cassian laughed again as you continued to push at him. He wasn’t really crushing you, but good gods your boyfriend is an immovable mountain.

Cassian went ridged above you. Noticing the tension in his muscles you stop, gazing up at him with a worried look. “Cass? What’s wrong?” You ask softly. His gaze seemed far away, distracted. His jaw unhinged in shock. You slide out from under him to stand in front of him. Holding his face in your hands you tilt it so he’s looking up at you.

“Cassian, you’re freaking me out. What is wrong?” You shake him a little to snap him back into himself. Cassian grabbed your wrists, pressing kisses across your knuckles then your palms. “It-the bond. It snapped, for you.”

Your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Your jaw dropping to match Cassian’s shock. Seconds later you feel that warm, golden thread hum to life in your chest, wrapping snugly around your heart. You fling your arms around Cassian’s neck, pushing closer to his body, trying to be one with your mate.

Cassian’s tears fall against your cheek. You move to pull away from him but Cass holds on to you tighter. “Why are you crying baby?” You coo. “This is just-this is the happiest day of my life.” He whispered.

You squeeze him tighter, turning to press a kiss against his cheek. Feeling unsatisfied with that small show of affection Cass threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you to face him, pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss.

Breaking away for air you rest your forehead against his, both letting out breathless laughs. “I love you.” He says, pressing his lips to yours again. This one quicker and rushed, like he can’t get enough of you. “I love you more, Cass.”

[delulustateofmind]

Potions & Shadows (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: An old neighbor of Feyre's is revealed to be not who they seemed when Feyre was a child. Leadign to Feyre needing the once village apothecaries help. Inspired by Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.

A/n: I posted a preview a week or two ago. I enjoyed writing this one, I've been super busy at work and with a family wedding so probably won't have a part two anytime soon. Hope you enjoy! Thank you all for the support on my last few fics! :)

Word Count: 2.5k

Part two, Part Three, Part Four

Warmings: None? Let me know if there's any.

Feyre would often find herself lost in memories of their old neighbor, a mysterious figure from her childhood spent in the manor with her sisters. Little did she know, her encounter with the apothecary would soon unveil new mysteries. Years later, as Feyre bid farewell before their departure, she decided to revisit the familiar door, hoping to uncover the enigma of the past.

In the hustle of their impoverished days and the chaos of her transition to fae life, Feyre scarcely pondered the mystery. It wasn't until Nesta mentioned seeing the apothecary, unchanged from their childhood encounter, right before the human queen's arrival, that Feyre's curiosity stirred. She made a mental note to pay a quick visit to the apothecary's cottage down the road after their business with the queens concluded.

The meeting with the human queens did not end too well, though they did manage to secure the book. With Rhysand somewhat strict on their schedule, Feyre knew she couldn't risk being late. The crunch of the dirt path under her feet felt oddly familiar yet different in her new fae form. The smells of the pine trees now heightened, and the distant streams seemed closer than ever. Pulling her out of her trance, she arrived at the apothecary’s cottage.

The moss on the roof indicated the cottage had been there for centuries, perhaps even when the village was being built. Feyre walked up and knocked on the door, her heart pounding with anticipation. The shuffling of footsteps inside signaled someone approaching. When the door creaked open, Feyre was met with a familiar face.

A short woman stood before her, her scent unmistakably human, yet intertwined with a hint of something elusive. Her hazel green eyes, flecked with gold and blue hues, seemed to hold secrets as deep as the mountains' morning dew. The apothecary wiped her hands on her apron, stained with various herbs and powders, and greeted Feyre with a small sigh and a bright smile.

"It's you... but different?" she remarked, tilting her head curiously. Feyre released a breathy laugh. "Yeah, you could say I am a bit different... you're back," she whispered.

The apothecary moved aside, inviting Feyre into the familiar interior of the cottage. Bookshelves lined the walls, while towers of books stood around tables filled with bottles and concoctions. The atmosphere was comforting yet tinged with a sense of mystery. As the apothecary made tea, Feyre couldn't help but notice the intricate organization amidst the apparent chaos.

"No longer human, now a fae?" the apothecary mused as she prepared the tea. "Haven't seen that before." She smiled to herself, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "I always thought you were human, I mean you don't seem fae," Feyre whispered.

"That's because I'm not fae, though I am considered a fae creature," the apothecary explained with a soft smile. "Long story short, as I have a feeling your companions only gave you a few moments to visit. I am half human, half-elven... one of the last of my kind."

Feyre looked puzzled before asking, "How come you don't age? I mean the human counterpart should... make you age, right?" The apothecary poured the tea, the pink hue swirling in the cup, before joining Feyre at the table. "You're right, I should age, but there's this thing called the 'settling.' It's based on mana. The more mana you have, the more likely to reach immortality."

The apothecary glanced up at Feyre with a soft smile. "I stopped aging around... don't know, maybe 19 or 20 years old?" Feyre looked at her in astonishment, trying to reconcile the fragile appearance with the revelation of her age. "How old are you now?" she asked softly.

You smiled, reminiscing about your past travels as you glanced at your spellbooks and then back at Feyre while taking a sip of your tea. "I am roughly 300 years old this year, give or take a few," you admitted with a hint of nostalgia. "You tend to lose count on the road."

Brushing your long hair aside, you pulled up your sleeve, revealing the insignia of an adventurer guild—a small blossom marking. "This is from my guild," you explained. "I'm a mage, so I embark on journeys from time to time. It's how I honed my skills in concocting medicines and remedies."

Feyre looked taken aback, unable to sense any magic radiating from you despite your mage status and half-elven heritage. She was filled with questions, but time was fleeting, and there was much to be done.

As Feyre finished her tea, she felt a sense of urgency creeping in. "Listen... there's something that might be coming, would you watch my sisters?" The apothecary met her gaze with a reassuring smile. "I leave tonight for another quest, but the wards should be stable around their house. I'll reinforce them before I leave."

With a nod of gratitude, Feyre rose from her seat, her mind buzzing with newfound revelations. Little did she know, her visit to the apothecary would mark the beginning of a journey fraught with unforeseen challenges.

******

Certainly, unforeseen challenges indeed. In fact, the wards failed to hold as Hybern seized Feyre’s sisters while you were away on your travels seeking new spell books, a hobby of yours. Across the continent, whispers of war spread like wildfire. Perhaps this was what Feyre had alluded to—a war brewing on the horizon? After completing your quest, you returned home to find a letter from Feyre—a proposition of sorts.

“War is coming, we need healers like you to join us. Let me know your response when you see this.” 

Magic paper? Intriguing, something you will inquire about later on. You write your response. Perhaps, a new adventure wouldn’t be bad. You’ve never visited Prythian before. Given that elves used to be seen as slaves there, that elves were seen to be just one step above humans, being a half-breed who know’s where that would place you. Feyre was kind though, you knew that from the moment you met her. A war would be brutal, if the fae were asking for help, that meant it would be serious enough to involve others. 

“Sure, I’ll give my commitment for a few years,” you wrote. The paper vanished almost instantly, leaving behind a faint scent of smoke—a curious phenomenon indeed. Moments later, a message appeared, promising someone would visit you at the cottage within hours. With a shrug, you began to pack your belongings, including spell books, herbs, clothes, and trinkets. You were prepared.

That's when you met Mor, a lively fae whose energy belied her formidable power. She winnowed you to the healer’s cottage, where Madja, the head healer, resided. Mor apologized and hurriedly departed, leaving you to converse with Madja. The healer welcomed you warmly, showing you to a modest room furnished with essentials. The bed with white bedding and an old green quilt laid on top. Madja pointed out that the nights here might be too cold for creatures like yourself. 

"Haven't seen a human in years," she remarked as she led you to the apothecary storage room. "But I sense something else about you," a twinkle in Madja’s eye hinted at her awareness of your half-elven heritage. You responded with a smile, "Most don’t catch on too quickly," you murmured.

Madja returned your smile, her expression warm yet knowing. "You're probably the last of your kind," she remarked casually, her tone tinged with humor. "Your kind was always more focused on mana and magic than finding love. Perhaps your human side will help you with that," she teased, reaching for a mortar and pestle.

"Now, kid," Madja continued, her demeanor shifting to business-like. "I want to see what you're capable of. Make a few hundred healing potions—some for minor cuts and bruises, and others for those foolish soldiers who find themselves impaled one too many times."

You immersed yourself in your work, with Madja checking in every few minutes to monitor your progress. Impressed by your efficiency, she peppered you with compliments, acknowledging your skill. Together, you labored until late afternoon, the sun casting long shadows across the cottage.

Feyre stopped by to offer a brief greeting before departing to attend to war preparations and assist her newly transformed sisters. Their transformation weighed heavily on your conscience—if only your wards had been stronger, perhaps you could have prevented their fate. Pushing aside the guilt, you ground a few more herbs, determined to focus on the task at hand. Or perhaps you were trying to push that guilt away by keeping yourself distracted. 

The soothing scent of herbs filled the room, mingling with Madja’s quiet humming—a melody unfamiliar to you yet strangely comforting. You found solace in the routine of potion-making, a respite from the chaos of the outside world.

As you worked, memories of your travels surfaced—the thrill of discovering new spells, the camaraderie of fellow adventurers, and the satisfaction of aiding those in need. Though your main quest was to collect spells, you found fulfillment in helping others, a testament to your kind-hearted nature.

Completing the last batch of potions, Madja introduced you to the other healers, who welcomed you with open arms. Over dinner, you exchanged stories of your respective lives—Madja sharing tales of her long existence, while you recounted your travels across distant lands. The other healers listened in awe, their curiosity piqued by your adventures beyond Velaris. Constantly asking questions of your adventures, asking about the dragons you’ve came across. About the handsome warriors that you went through dungeons with. A smile tugged your lips as you bid them goodnight and headed to your room. 

As you lay on your bed, enveloped by the chill of the night air, you found comfort in the warmth of the quilt that Madja had provided. Retrieving a book about defensive magic from your bedside table, you delved into its pages, seeking solace in the familiar words until sleep claimed you. 

****

As the end of the first week approached, you found yourself manning the desk, processing orders for sleeping tonics, stomach remedies, and various other mundane requests. It was the less exciting aspect of your work, but you understood the necessity of attending to such matters. After all, not every day could be spent brewing exotic potions and elixirs. Madja had left to replenish the inventory and wouldn't return until nightfall. Before her departure, she mentioned that someone from the court would be coming to collect a 'private' order and instructed you not to charge them.

As you cleaned the countertop, the door creaked open, and a chilling breeze swept into the room, carrying with it the scent of mist and cedar, tinged with a hint of blood. You looked up and found yourself locking eyes with a figure standing in the doorway. My stars, he was strikingly handsome in a deadly sort of way—a sight that momentarily stole your breath away. You recognized him as an Illyrian, though you had never seen one before. There was something about his wings that instilled a sense of fear in you, even though they remained folded tightly against his back, shrouding his features in shadows.

Azriel dipped his head in acknowledgment, his golden gaze piercing as he spoke in a low, almost hypnotic tone. "I am here to pick up a prescription," he stated, his voice like a captivating melody that seemed to draw you in.

You nodded, trying to maintain your composure as you retrieved the bag containing the requested item. It was a rare occurrence for you to feel flustered, especially in the presence of another. As you handed him the bag, your hands brushed briefly, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. The label on the bag revealed its contents—a contraceptive tonic. Oh... he was an active male too.

Azriel murmured his thanks before casting a lingering gaze over you, his expression unreadable behind his hand. As he turned to leave, you couldn't shake the feeling of self-consciousness. Did you smell bad? Was your human heritage too obvious to the fae? Such thoughts raced through your mind as the door closed behind him, leaving you to ponder the encounter long after he had gone.

****

Azriel departed for the House of Wind, where a family dinner awaited. Elaine had begun emerging from her room, while Nesta remained ensconced in her moody disposition. Lucien had ventured to the continent, leaving an absence felt at the table. Feyre was already seated next to Rhys when Azriel arrived, discreetly passing the tonic to Cassian, who muttered a quick thanks before Azriel settled in beside him.

"I didn’t realize Madja had taken on a new apprentice," Azriel murmured, his gaze shifting to Mor as she joined Cassian. Feyre glanced at Azriel, her curiosity piqued. "You met her today? She’s a friend of mine from the village. I knew her growing up," she explained. Azriel took a sip of the wine passed to him by Cassian, his mind wandering to the petite healer who had left such an impression on him.

Elaine's transformation from human to fae had only heightened Azriel's attraction to her, raising questions about his preferences. Was he developing a preference for humans? Could he handle the brevity of their lifespans? Feyre's voice broke through his reverie, drawing his attention back to the conversation. "She’s half-elf too, are they rare?" she inquired.

Rhysand nodded, his expression softening as he delved into the history of elves and their dwindling numbers. "They used to be slaves for the Fae, around the same time as the humans," he began. "Perhaps that's why she has never been to Prythian until now."

He paused, his tone softening even further. "Also, the elves were known to lack emotions, which led to them not reproducing that often, ultimately to their demise. There’s a few around, but not many anymore."

As food was placed on the table, Azriel found himself consumed by thoughts of the healer. Her scent lingered in his mind, reminiscent of cherry blossoms on a warm day. Though he had only met her briefly, he felt an inexplicable pull toward her that tugged at his heartstrings. It was a feeling he had never experienced before.

An idea struck him. "Don’t we need to deliver the potions to the camps? I could help with that tomorrow, I finished the reports," Azriel suggested, turning to Rhysand. A smirk danced on the high lord’s lips—a silent understanding passed between them. "If you want," Rhysand replied casually, gesturing with a wave of his hand. "Perhaps show her around Velaris while you’re at it."

Azriel nodded, anticipation stirring within him. Tomorrow promised to be an intriguing day, his shadows seemed almost restless to meet the little healer again. A new sort of feeling fueled both him and his shadows.

[knoxic]

How to be a High Lady? part 2

Eris Vanserra x Mate!Reader

Summary: Reader's first meeting as a HL, Rhysand makes some comments and reader chews him out, then smut🤭

wc: 2k

warnings: Feysand slander, cursing and a shit ton of dialogue

a/n: the way there's so little of Eris here...sorry😔 but I'll make up for it if I make a part 3, with just the two of them, maybe their domestic lives and doing High Lord & Lady things in Autumn, idk maybe smut?

part 1

How they met

Their morning was slow, starting with lazy cuddles in bed followed by an easy breakfast. Her daily meditation helped gather her thoughts and feelings about the meeting ahead, when she focused on it, she could see flashes of messy handwriting and a dark room.

Dressing for the meeting took longer than she'd expected, Eris being the last one to finish so he could match her dress, it had turned into a habit now for him to combine his vest with her dresses or corsets.

After getting through her first meeting, their arrival this time was easier, not caring if people were staring at her or whispering behind her back, she knew today would be tough and her mind was set straight. They were the last ones to arrive, which was weird, she'd made sure they weren't late. The meeting started smoothly, but it didn't remain that way.

"I'm just saying, it'd be better if we cooperated..." Feyre chimed in when no one agreed with Rhysand's words. After hearing those contradictory words she couldn't not intervene.

"No offense, Feyre, but I don't think you're the best person to say that." She said, hoping that it wouldn't cause Rhysand to come for her neck yet. Feyre was stunned for a moment, clearly taken aback.

"And why is that?"

"We can't cooperate if the other part is deceitful."

"Are you calling my High Lady a liar?" Cassian roughly uttered.

"No." Her voice was steady, not showing any traces of fear, because this time she was, in fact, fearless. "I'm saying, how can we know if you're trustworthy when most of your court doesn't even trust you? How can we trust that you won't ruin our courts, like you've done before."

"Again you go speaking of my court." Rhysand growled. "You've been High Lady for a day and think you know everything. Tell me, you seem so sure of what goes beyond my wards... have you been in my court before?" Every word he spoke carried an generous amount of venom.

"No, and I have no desire to do so."

"Then how the fuck do you know so much? Are you a fucking witch or what?" His eyebrows danced showing how pissed he was, apparently not knowing everything seemed to have that effect on him.

The possibilities of what could happen depending on what she responded were running through her head, her first response would be to deny but if she did and they figured it out, which they probably would eventually, she'd be a treacherous witch and that was...

"Yes. I am a witch." The silence in the room was deafening, her ears were ringing, "And so far, my powers have only showed me objects in need of help, faes, humans... courts. I do what I can to help them–"

"I've lived in Night Court for centuries, I helped them, I made things better, I ruled them, you have no right to suddenly decide the way I rule my court is not enough, you don't know." Rhysand growled.

"But I do," her words were firm, matching his tone, "They're not my people and its not my court, but they need someone to care for them, most people in Hewn City have never seen the sky above their heads because they're trapped under a fucking mountain. Have it ever occurred to you that there may be innocent people living there? Children, like your son–"

"Watch it–" Azriel spat. She changed courses.

"Have it occurred to you that maybe they despise you because you never showed them empathy? Instead of trying to gain their approval by providing you could be a good High Lord, you locked them up." She never faltered, every word was spoken loud and clear.

Night's High Lord was fuming, if yesterday she thought his eyes promised death, now they were death. Sharp pain ran across the thick walls she built around her mind, as if claws had just taken a hold of her brain, causing her eyebrows to furrowed as a sharp gasp left her mouth. Thankfully, she spent years working on her mind and everything beyond, and with a strong spell to protect her body, it wouldn't be so easy for him to get through her mind.

"Rhysand!" Eris hissed, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. She needed to act before Eris attacked him, it wouldn't be pretty.

"If you wanted to see it for yourself, you could've just asked." She teased, but it was true, she would've showed him if he wanted her to. She opened her walls and launched him every memories she had of his people, every small shot her gift had shown her of them.

Rhysand's mouth twitched, his frown deepening. She wasn't sure if it was from being unable to break his way through her mind or because the image she told him about was true. Feyre's expression soured and she could imagine that they were having a mind conversation right at that moment, maybe he showed her the images too.

"That's not true" She said. Was that not enough?

"But it is."

"Certainly you've been wrong before." Rhysand uttered, his voice close to a growl.

"No. If it's shown to me, it's true." If they still didn't believe, she might as well tell them how it works, "If I see something, it's because it has happened or will happen soon, I'm able to differentiate them and when I can prevent them from happening, I do. What I showed you has already happened– has been happening for centuries."

"Have you seen things from other courts?" Tarquin's voice was hesitant, "Summer?" He eyes the other High Lords, all of them silently agreeing with his question.

"Well, yes. I saw Spring's downfall but it was too late, and–" Eris' hot hand on her arm made her look at him, searching for any traces that could show he wanted to maintain secrecy, she found none. "Autumn's genocide."

"That's why you took over..." Tamlin whispered, looking at Eris who gave a simple, almost imperceptible, nod in response.

"How long have you been seeing our court in your..."

"Memories. They're memories, from other people, from now and from the future. A couple years, at first I tried to gather information about what happened there but... it was well hidden."

"Oh–"

"Why'd you never say anything? If you were oh so worried about them." Mor sarcastically spoke. For someone who knows what is like living there, she's embarrassingly hypocritical.

"Would it have changed anything? By the time I stopped looking for them, Feyre was already here. Things changed–"

"And she became High Lady, did you not think you could have talked to her, if you're so sure I wouldn't have done anything." She should be cautious, but then, she had been playing with fire for over a century now. She was almost vibrating with the need to speak what she really thought, but her neck was at risk.

"What, little witchy lost her words? Or did your gift make an appearance?" Rhysand smirked at her. Fuck it.

"Feyre was barely fae at the time and being honest... she doesn't even have that much credibility does she?" His smirk fell, the room filled with dense darkness, hands tried to grasp at her but were pushed back by the wards she'd silently set around herself and Eris, knowing they'd come for him too. It was ancient magic, not that easy to break.

"Rhysand! Stop!" A chorus of commands for him to control himself. Eris' and Helion's power lit up the spacious room, the latter using his powers to hold and push Rhysand back, extremely bright light making the room clear again, after all, he was in his home court. In the midst of darkness, Eris had pulled her to her feet to stand behind him, their hands wrapped around the other's waist.

"If you can't control yourselves I suggest you leave, go fight somewhere else!" Helion shouted.

"Helion, I think this is a matter for our meeting, if she knows things, we should hear." Kallias spoke calmly, not trying to set any of us off, he glanced in Rhysand's direction, who was being held back by Feyre with a hand on his arm. Helion seemed to ponder Kallias words, eyeing her and Rhysand and their mates.

"Fine, behave, or I'll ban all of you."

"You can't possibly think I'll just stand and whatch her talking about my mate like that!" Rhysand spat incredulous, Feyre tapped his arm to gather his attention.

"Let's listen to what she has to say." Feyre said, looking back at her friends, trying to hold them back, Mor leaned back against Feyre's chair, where she'd been since they arrived, she'd gladly stand back and watch as Cassian and Azriel ripped Eris to pieces.

"Bullshit, obviously." Their General uttered, still staring her down until Eris blocked his view of her.

"Alright, continue..." Rhysand spoke, staring her up and down before sitting back in his chair, Cassian watched him before stepping back, Azriel still glared at her as he did the same. Clearly Rhysand had just told them to back off. "Go on. What were you saying about my High Lady?" She calmly pulled back from Eris, gently grasping his hand and pulling him so they could sit back down too, taking a deep breath before signing their 'enemies' certificate.

"Your own 'Inner Circle' doesn't respect her commands, how would she change the way a whole city runs?" Rhysand banged a hand against the arm of his chair while Feyre's mouth fell open, his growl echoing through the room before he lunged forward.

"Out, now!" Helion stood up and pointed to the door, "Now, Rhysand."

Rhysand was practically foaming when he left, snatching a hand around Feyre's waist before winnowing out, the other three following quickly after giving her nasty looks, if she didn't know them, she'd think they were cursing her. The tense atmosphere in the room was rough to bear.

"Are you alright?" A soft voice asked her. Viviane.

"Yes."

"That was really brave, badass." She smiled.

"Brave indeed, I can't tell if you're lucky or just that powerful. I don't know how you're still alive..." Thesan laughed incredulous.

"She wouldn't defy him if she didn't know she could take it." Eris smirked, squeezing her hand in reassurance. While she was bragging about her, she noticed Helion with his fingers massaging his temples.

"We can leave if you want, I'm sorry if we made you uncomfortable," talking a look around the room she noticed all of them looking at her, "any of you."

"I think Rhys needed someone to throw the shit he does to his face, none of us were really able to do it, you did, and it was nice to watch." Tamlin said, amusement written all over his face.

"I agree, the Inner Circle has done and said things we don't agree, but any time we tried to mention it they'd just turn the situation over, would pretend it didn't happen that way or that it wasn't so bad. Rhysand and Feyre both need to see that they're not as good and right as they think they are, someone to humble them could be of use." Tarquin smiled lightly and gave her a wink.

"Do they really not respect her? I had seen signs of it but... they seem so close that I just brushed it off." Helion waved a hand while speaking.

"Is not that they don't respect her, I think they just don't take her seriously. I mean, compared to them she is still a child, she grew up too soon but she's still immature. I don't know why Rhysand made her a High Lady but it doesn't change the fact that, he gave her the title, she didn't know anything about being a High Lady and barely knew anything about our world. Maybe she'd make a good one if she knew what to do, but she just sits and lets her judgment be set by what Rhysand says." She seemed to have a talent to make people go quiet. After a moment of silence, everyone pondering what they just heard, Day's High Lord spoke.

"You're definitely something."

[highladyandromeda]

Shadows of the Heart

Part 6

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: After years apart, Y/n returns to Velaris, bearing the weight of sacrifice and secrets from her past. Reunited with Rhysand and his Inner Circle, she navigates the complexities of rekindled friendships and unresolved tensions. 

WC: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of wounds hurting, but nothing particularly graphic but it is located on the arm.

[Prologue], [Part 1], [Part 2], [Part 3], [Part 4], [Part 5]

The House of Wind, perched high above the glittering city of Velaris, offered a view that could steal the breath from the lungs of gods and fae alike. Yet, the sight of the ten thousand stairs winding down to the city dimmed the splendor of the vista before Y/n. Memories of youthful races with Rhys and his sister, of nights spent laughing under the stars until they were too intoxicated to winnow home, brought a nostalgic smile to her lips. There was a particular memory, hazed with the fog of drunken mirth, of them staggering up these very stairs, each step a battle against gravity and their swirling heads, pausing periodically to empty their stomachs into the bushes that edged the ascent.

She considered, not for the first time, leveraging those memories to coax Rhys—or even Mor—into assisting her down, no questions asked. 

Cassian, too, would have offered a lift without a second thought, especially after her rigorous training session with the Valkyries that morning. But admitting, even silently, that she couldn't manage on her own was a concession Y/n wasn't ready to make. Not after her display of strength and defiance the day before. Her pride, stubborn and fierce, whispered warnings that Rhys and Mor would see right through her, and Cassian...well, Cassian might not connect the dots immediately, but word would spread.

Biting her lip, Y/n weighed her options. It was only ten thousand steps. She wasn't so frail, so weary, that the descent seemed insurmountable—though the unhealed cut on her arm begged to differ. She had concealed it beneath thin bindings and a long-sleeved blouse of pale blue, cropped at the waist and chosen in the hopes it wouldn't appear too out of place on such a warm, sun-kissed day.

"Are you headed to town?"

Y/n looked behind, half-expecting to find Azriel clad in his typical leathers, silently admonishing herself for letting him surprise her once more. Instead, she found herself caught off-guard by the casual attire he donned—a black pair of pants and a navy shirt loosely tucked in, revealing a hint of his Illyrian tattoos at the v-neck. Her gaze lingered a moment too long, tracing the intricate designs across his skin and the way his shirt clung to the contours of his well-defined chest. 

Azriel's smirk, a rare break in his stoic facade, acknowledged her wandering gaze. Before the silence stretched too thin, he offered, "Would you like a ride?"

The question hung between them, weighted with unspoken implications. Y/n turned back to the stairs, the vast descent looming before her. 

"Y/n?" His call, soft yet insistent, pulled her back from the edge of her thoughts.

He had stepped closer, almost as if drawn by her hesitation. 

"No...I mean, no thank you, Azriel,"

At the uncertainty in his gaze, she felt the need to elaborate, “I wouldn’t want to hold you up, I’ll go myself just…a bit later”

Her excuse sounded thin even to her ears, yet Azriel's offer remained, undeterred by her wavering resolve. "It would be my pleasure to escort you. They say the view is even more spectacular by air."

Y/n seized the opportunity, masking her relief with a playful curiosity. "They?"

Azriel's cheeks tinged with red, his words stumbling over themselves. "You know, Mor, Nesta, Elai—" His voice faltered, a rare display of vulnerability.

"Very well," Y/n conceded, allowing him a graceful escape from his flustered explanation. "I wouldn't want to be late for our meeting. And, I suppose it's been ages since I've seen Velaris from above. Only if it's no bother to you."

"No, it's no bother at all," Azriel assured her, his words tumbling out with an eagerness he couldn't mask.

Y/n positioned herself, lifting her arms in readiness. Azriel's touch was gentle yet firm as he lifted her, a care in his hold that sent an unexpected warmth flooding through her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resisting the urge to draw closer, to seek comfort in the strength of his embrace.

Instead, her eyes traced the tattoos she had glimpsed before, a silent admiration for the art that marked his skin. Around them, Azriel's shadows danced with a life of their own, keeping her secure and holding her hair from flailing in the wind. 

In the silence that enveloped them, Y/n could discern the faint, rapid beating of Azriel's heart, its rhythm slightly too hurried for an Illyrian warrior on a leisurely flight. But Y/n kept her thoughts to herself, knowing that her heart was perhaps skipping as well.

Upon reaching the bustling heart of the town, Azriel gently descended, allowing Y/n to stand on her own. His arms reluctantly released her, a sense of loss washing over him as the warmth of her presence receded.

"Thanks for the ride, Azriel," her gratitude lit up her features with a warm smile.

"It was my pleasure," he managed to reply, his voice steadier than his racing heart.

Seizing the moment before doubt could diminish his resolve, he found himself suggesting, "If you'd like, I could show you around as well... around Velaris and its newer sights, after you're done with your errands, of course."

Y/n paused, her gaze sweeping over the town's lively expanse before settling back on him. "I'd like that," she agreed, a softness in her voice that coaxed a hopeful glimmer in Azriel's eyes.

"It's been so long since I've seen Velaris, I’ll meet you back here in an hour?”

As she stepped away, Azriel realized then, with startling clarity, that he had no actual business in the town. Yet, the prospect of spending more time with Y/n, of reintroducing her home seemed like the most significant task of all.

He should use this period to plan. To think about the places in Velaris that would spark interest in her eyes, the hidden corners and new developments he'd watched over from the shadows. It wasn't just about filling the time; it was about crafting moments that might bridge the gap between them.

As he lingered in thought, Azriel's attention was momentarily drawn to his shadows, which had, unbeknownst to him, begun to reach out towards Y/n's departing figure, specifically curling towards her left arm. With a subtle command, he reeled them back, a silent acknowledgment of her right to privacy. Despite his longing for closeness, he respected the boundaries between them, even those unseen.

Y/n was ashamed to admit it, but she double-checked every reflection she saw, cautious of any lurking shadows. The idea of anyone, particularly Azriel, tracing her steps to this particular location filled her with unease. Besides, she was embarrassed at the several missed turns it took before she finally arrived at her destination. Velaris had indeed changed; the streets still boasted their characteristic cobblestone pathways and white marble houses with green roofs. Yet, the atmosphere was distinctly different—teeming with fae from all corners of Prythian. It was a strange notion, to feel like a stranger in the land she had once called her home.

This sandstone building, however, was unchanged, just as she remembered it from all those years ago, tucked away in a nondescript corner. The walls were still lined with shelves that reached up to the high ceilings, each crammed with jars and bottles of varying shapes and sizes, filled with mixtures of different herbs. In the center of the room, cozy couches were draped with handwoven throws inviting patrons to sit and bask in the tranquility of the space. The soft glow of lanterns cast a gentle light, already comforting her tense nerves. 

“Just a moment!” she heard stepping in, before being greeted by a High Fae woman with dark skin, spindrift hair now touched with grey, and brown eyes that still sparkled with an inner warmth, despite the new wrinkles framing them.

The shock of recognition was mutual. “Y/n?” the woman exclaimed.

“Madja! It’s been too long,” Y/n said, moving in for a hug.

They embraced warmly before Madja pulled back, eyeing her with a mix of suspicion and affection. “It’s never been good when you’ve entered this store,” she remarked, an eyebrow arched in playful admonition.

Y/n laughed, the sound mingling with a sense of nostalgia. “Rhys and I weren't that bad, were we?” she quipped, attempting to deflect.

“Oh no,” Madja shot back with a smile, “You both were absolutely terrible.” Her tone softened, betraying the fondness behind her words.

Memories of past injuries, ranging from the ridiculous outcomes of foolish dares to the more serious wounds acquired during brutal training sessions, flashed through Y/n’s mind. She nodded, conceding the point. “But you were always there for us,” she said, gratitude lacing her voice.

"Yes, always there—mostly wondering which of you would walk in next, and whether I'd need a broom or a stretcher."

Then Madja’s expression turned more serious. “How can I help you today, Y/n?”

Fidgeting, Y/n glanced around the shop before responding. “I’m just here to look at some herbs...” Her voice trailed off, unconvincing even to her own ears.

Madja’s gaze narrowed slightly, but not unkindly. “Planning to brew your own tonic, are we?” she teased before adding, “If you need something for sleep or pain, I can prepare it for you. Discreetly, of course.”

Caught off guard, Y/n hesitated, then muttered something about merely experimenting in her free time. However, to divert Madja’s prying eyes, she offered a truth and quickly agreed to the offer of a sleep tonic. “Yes, that...my insomnia has been relentless lately.”

Madja nodded, her expression softening into one of understanding. “I’ll prepare something for you. No one needs to know,” she assured. 

While Madja busied herself, Y/n’s gaze wandered across the shelves, laden with jars of herbs, vials of potions, and artifacts of healing and magic, feeling a bit overwhelmed. She’d never admit it out loud, but her alchemy and potions for healing weren’t particularly up to par. For poison, well she already clocked 5 different ones she could create from the herbs she’d be able to identify thus far.

But for healing, and particularly for a wound that she’d not thought twice about before, with her magic and fae heritage naturally taking care of it; she realized then that she should have made a stop at a bookstore or visited the library this morning. 

By the time she had gathered the herbs she hoped would do, Madja returned, handing Y/n a small, unmarked vial. 

“Take two drops before bed,” she instructed, her voice low. “And Y/n,” she added, her eyes meeting the sorceress's, “whatever you’re facing, remember you’re not alone. Velaris isn’t just a city; it’s home.

Y/n’s heart clenched at the sincerity in Madja’s words. “Thank you, Madja,” she said, her voice thick with gratitude. She paid for the tonic and her bundle, seeing Madja’s impartial glance as a sign that she hadn’t chosen anything too offputting.  

Stepping out of the shop, Y/n took a deep breath, the air of Velaris filling her lungs, mingling with the scents of the river and the blooming night flowers. The city might have changed, but its essence, the heart of it, remained the same—a haven for the lost, the brave, and those in need of healing.

As the agreed time approached, Azriel's gaze was constantly drawn towards the path Y/n would emerge from. The anticipation had woven a tapestry of nerves and excitement within him, a feeling unfamiliar yet thrilling. His shadows, ever-present companions, danced around him with an energy that mirrored his own. When they alerted him to her presence, a wave of something akin to relief washed over him. 

She was making her way towards him, her steps confident, yet he noticed something different—a bag clutched in her hand, an addition to her ensemble.

Curiosity piqued, Azriel couldn't help but ask about the bag as soon as greetings were exchanged. "What's in the bag? If you don't mind me asking," he inquired, his tone light, trying to mask the depth of his curiosity and concern.

Y/n glanced down at the bag, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "Oh, just some cosmetics," she joked, her voice laced with humor. "I felt my complexion still looks very pallid. Thought I might need a touch-up if I continue to stay in the illustrious night court."

Azriel, taken aback by her answer yet finding it endearing, responded without hesitation, his voice sincere. "You look beautiful, Y/n. You don't need anything more for that."

The moment the words left his mouth, a warm flush of embarrassment colored his cheeks, mirroring the blush that bloomed on Y/n's face. Azriel couldn’t help but feel pleased with her reaction, though he tried to ignore how he longed to see where else that rosy hue would appear. 

Seeking to recover from the moment, Azriel cleared his throat softly, gesturing towards the city. "Shall we begin our tour? Velaris has much to offer, and I'd like to show you everything I've planned."

Y/n nodded, her smile bright, the earlier blush still present but accompanied now by a look of genuine happiness. "I'd love that, Azriel. Lead the way."

As they ventured into the heart of Velaris, Azriel found himself sharing stories and lore of the city, each tale carefully chosen to entertain or spark curiosity in Y/n. He noticed how her eyes lit up with each new sight, her laughter more melodious to his ears than any music. It was as if, with her by his side, Velaris transformed into an even more magical place, its beauty magnified through her presence.

“It’s said that this fountain,” Azriel gestured to an ornate structure, water dancing under the sun’s fading glow, “was built by a high lord as a tribute to his mate’s beauty, which he believed surpassed even that of the Night Court’s stars.”

Y/n’s laughter, light and infectious, filled the air. “A high bar for beauty,” she remarked, her gaze lingering on the play of light over water. “Do you think such comparisons are fair, comparing someone to the stars?”

Azriel found himself caught in the depth of her gaze, her curiosity igniting his own. “Perhaps not fair, but it speaks to the beholder's awe. Don’t we all aspire to find a love like that, where the connection is so intense, that it could rival the stars?

But just as their souls seemed on the verge of whispering secrets only the heart could hear, the boisterous cry of a vendor shattered the stillness.

"Delicacies of the night! Taste the wonders of Velaris!" His voice, loud and full of life, tore through the tender veil of connection they had cocooned themselves within.

In an instant, the world rushed back in—a flood of sounds and lights, washing away the moment of intense closeness they had found. They were left adrift, surrounded by the vibrant chaos of the night market, the poignant ache of a moment lost too soon lingering in the air between them.

The day gave way to evening almost without notice, hours spent in exploration and shared discovery. 

Azriel led her through the vibrant heart of Velaris, showcasing the city's architectural marvels—the four Palaces. They spent the most time at the Palace of Thread and Jewels, a bustling market square alive with the hum of creative energy. Here, amidst stalls adorned with fabrics that whispered tales of distant lands and jewelry that sparkled with the promise of untold stories, Y/n came alive in a way Azriel hadn't seen before.

He watched, fascinated, as she engaged with the vendors, her knowledge of gems and textiles flowing effortlessly, her eyes lighting up with each piece she examined. Her hands, graceful and assured, would trace the lines of cloth, her touch eliciting stories from silk and satin alike.

In one of those quiet moments, shared over a stall draped in velvets and brocades, Y/n turned to Azriel, a softness in her eyes. "When I was much younger," she confessed, "I dreamt of being a fashion designer. I wanted to create clothes that weren't just worn but experienced—garments that would steal the breath from those who beheld them."

Azriel's gaze softened as he listened, the ambient noises of the marketplace fading into the background. "That's a beautiful dream," he responded, his voice low and thoughtful. "The clothes we wear can speak volumes, tell stories, and even protect us. Your designs could have done all that and more, I believe."

She laughed, a sound that mingled with the evening air, rich and full of possibilities. "Maybe in another life, Azriel. For now, I'm content with my path, though it's nice to dream a little."

As they continued to explore the stalls, Azriel couldn't help but see the market—and Y/n—in a new light. Every thread, every jewel, seemed to hold a piece of the dream she had shared with him. And in that moment, he made a silent vow to himself to support her dreams, in whatever form they might take, hoping that they could come true with him at her side. 

As the gallery’s doors closed behind them, Azriel realized the day had slipped away into the evening, the sky a canvas of deep blues and purples. “You must be hungry after our day,” he said, the thought striking him with sudden concern. “Would you join me for dinner?”

The smile Y/n offered in response, wide and genuine, set his heart racing. “I’d love to, Azriel. Thank you.”

Choosing a quaint restaurant known for its exquisite cuisine and intimate ambiance, Azriel had such joy when she accepted his invitation. However, as they approached the entrance, he reached out to gently guide her by the arm, a gesture meant to be polite. To his surprise, she recoiled—a flash of discomfort shadowing her features.

Throughout dinner, Azriel couldn’t shake off the feeling that he had overstepped, his mind replaying the moment she flinched. Despite the array of dishes that graced their table, she barely touched her food, her usual spark dimmed to a quiet reserve.

“Y/n, if I did something earlier to upset you, I apologize. It wasn’t my intention,” he ventured, hoping to bridge the silence that had settled between them.

Y/n shook her head, offering a small smile. “No, Azriel, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just not very hungry tonight, that’s all.”

Despite her reassurance, Azriel couldn’t help but feel a gnawing insecurity for the rest of the evening, wondering what unseen barriers still lay between them. The night that had started with laughter and shared secrets now seemed cloaked in a quiet tension, and Azriel found himself wishing for the ability to read her thoughts, to understand her silence.

As they stepped out of the restaurant into the velvet night, the streets of Velaris were bathed in the soft glow of starlight and lamplights, casting ethereal shadows around them. Azriel, still filled with guilt from the earlier incident, searched for words to lighten the mood and make amends. He longed to suggest they fly back, to offer her the breathtaking views of Velaris by night from the sanctuary of his arms. Yet, the memory of her recoiling from his touch echoed loudly in his mind, a reminder of the boundaries he feared to overstep again.

With a heavy heart, he proposed instead to winnow them back, a quicker, less intimate mode of travel. "We can winnow back, but it's a bit of a drop—we'll land on the balcony. I'll need to hold you for just a moment to manage the descent," he explained, trying to mask his disappointment.

Y/n, fiddling with her bag, offered a small nod, her voice quiet.

"That's fine. I'll just hold onto your arm. I should be okay with the drop," she replied, the simplicity of the arrangement failing to hide the distance it imposed.

As they landed with soft thuds on the balcony, Azriel couldn't help but notice how the moonlight painted Y/n's features, highlighting her beauty yet highlighting her pallor. She thanked him, her voice a whisper against the night, as she turned to leave. The urge to reach out, to bridge the space between them with a touch, surged within him, but he halted, his fingers hovering mere breaths away from her shoulder. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier," he found himself saying again, the words heavy with unspoken feelings.

Y/n shook her head, a gesture of dismissal or perhaps forgiveness, Azriel couldn't tell. "I'm just tired, that's all. The day finally caught up to me," she offered, her voice carrying a fatigue that went beyond the physical.

The silence that followed was filled with things unsaid, with Azriel's silent plea for understanding and Y/n's unspoken reassurances. When he hesitantly asked if she was still alright with him assisting her with her research, she nodded, her agreement to meet at the library the next day offering a glimmer of hope, a possibility of redemption.

As she retreated into the night, leaving Azriel alone with his thoughts on the balcony, he watched her go with a sense of loss.

A/N: Hi eveyone!! So I'm not really sure how I feel about this chapter. Tbh I had a lot of writer's block and I wasn't really sure where I wanted Y/n and azriel to go during these chapters. But I do LOVE a blushing Az!!!

I have plans for future chapters and I really want to add in some more snippets about Y/n and Rhys as children and teenagers, messing and playing around with each other. Let me know if you have any ideas you'd want to read!

For my tag list, I tagged everyone who asked and those who commented on the previous parts. If you'd like to be included, please just let me know. 💕

TAGLIST: @strangelygreat @enfppuff @trip-n-sal @inloveallthetime @annamariereads16 @mybestfriendmademe @mariahoedt @annblvd @ania-swissweet @yearninglustfully @sleepylunarwolf @quiettuba @gorlillaglue25 @lilah-asteria @naturakaashi @sillymercury @itsswritten @xlosttdreamss @kennedy-brooke @xyzmeh @lucky7rosie @copenhagenspirit @collide-with-the-music @starsinyourseyes @dianxiaxiexie @maybefoxysouls @golden-canyon @violet-potter @thisiskaylin @acphengene @katherinejess @sevikas-whore @kalulakunundrum @hibye02 @madscamp02 @willowpains @jaybarding @kalulakunundrum @sevikas-whore @katherinejess @acphengene @thisiskaylin @herondale-lightworm @5onedirection5 @namelesssav

[fever-fluff]

Home II

Word Count: 3.0k (not proof read)

(there is a song added to the end of this part, I'm going to start adding them to certain ones when they fit as they play while I'm writing)

Azriel begins his time on the continent. He bumps into someone who can't seem to leave him alone...

Part I , Part III

Leaving Velaris behind was a blur in his mind. It was Feyre and Rhysand who had seen him off, Nyx dozing in Feyre's arms as he boarded the boat - winnowing was out of the question considering his state.

He'd said goodbye to everyone else the day before, not really wanting a huge send off when he didn't want to go in the first place. The trip wasn't as long as he'd wished, the weeks passing by like they barely happened. As he spotted the first sign of land in Mother knows how long, Azriel could no longer pretend that his destination was Velaris and that he'd already paid his dues in the foreign land.

Mor had greeted him at the port of a city called Indere. The bustling of fae moving cargo to and from the ships docked was a blur to the shadowsinger as he and Mor walked towards the streets. Her efforts here with the ruling fae had begun to bear fruit. Trade routes beginning to take shape between the most eastern courts of Prythian.

They had begun their trek to the landlocked side of the city when Mor finally decided she'd had enough of idle chat that went unanswered. "Rhys told me what happened. For what it's worth, I am sorry Az."

Azriel looked towards the female he now saw as his sister. It had taken centuries, and Mor's reveal of who she ultimately preferred, but Azriel had been able to accept that his love for her would only ever be enough as a brother's love. And he had been happier for it, to know that there was a familial bond there like his brother's that he could always look to. The pain was gone, and he no longer held onto the pain of it that had suffocated him for as long as he could remember.

But at that moment Azriel wished that he could go back to the time where he was hopelessly in love with her. The pain of knowing he could have her was much more bearable than what he felt now.

Still, he nodded his head, not saying a word and Mor carried on.

"I've learned a lot while being here. It's taken a lot of time to find common ground after everything that's happened. But it's finally becoming worth it. Especially when I've found a lot of fae that remind me of why I'm doing this."

It seemed Mor's words were a beacon when he noticed a flurry of feathers barrel towards the two of them. His hand reached for the blades strapped to his sides, but noticing Mor's easy stance purely rested it on the hilt for easy access should the need arise.

"Mor!" the two watched as the feathers - no, wings - abruptly flared to slow the Fae as they reached them. The young male landed silently and covered the last of the distance between them on his feet, tucking them behind his body.

Azriel took note of the differences between their wings. While his lllyrian ones were dark, leather like skin stretched over taloned membrane, the ones in front of him were feathered, each one a different shade of brown. They looked heavier than his, and he was sure the male in front of him had to lift them constantly so they wouldn't drag across the ground.

"Aodhan, I thought you'd be on your way by now." Mor's mouth turned into a soft smile, the same one he'd seen in the first weeks after Nyx was born.

"I should be, but we forgot to give you this last night." The male - Aodhan - handed her a small package wrapped neatly, a piece of lavender tucked into the strings it was wrapped in. Aodhan turned his attention from Mor to Azriel for the first time, he gaze curious, "Who's this?"

"Oh! This is Azriel, one of my three brothers I told you about." Aodhan nodded in recognition but his attention had strayed from Azriel's face to behind him. "Whoa..."

Azriel turned his head slightly to catch a glimpse of his wings. They twitched slightly under the attention. He should have been used to it, but it was different when someone else sporting the same looked at them for longer than a second. He wondered if Aodhan thought his own feathered ones were better. They were more beautiful to look at.

"Can you fly in the rain?"

"Beg pardon?" Well, that was not what he expected, but Aodhan seemed to wait for an answer, and when none came he repeated himself.

"Yes, so long as the wind allows it." Azriel watched as Aodhan huffed out a breath, almost like he was about to throw a tantrum.

"Damn, wish I could. All these things are good for are back aches and good weather. Sopping wet feathers just drag you down."

Although Azriel thought that would be the end of it, the winged male seemed to only begin with the questions as the three walked in the direction he came from.

"How fast can you fly?... do you get back aches?...Oh, do you have to build shelter or can you just cocoon yourself with your wings?!"

It was never ending, and Mor's discreet giggles meant he'd find no help from her.

"Aodhan, if you don't stop badgering Mor's friend you'll walk the journey home." A voice cut through the jabbering in Azriel's ear. He watched as Aodhan seemed to immediately shut it, and walk towards the direction of his saviour.

A female stood beside a mare saddled for long travels, satchels hung on her back as she trod in anticipation against the ground.

He took in the female, riding leathers covered by a green cloak, hair tied back loosely with a ribbon of the same colour. But what caught his attention were her eyes. It looked as if grey clouds had clouded over any colour, her pupils only a slight shade darker being the only contrast.

There was movement at her feet, and a small feline with fur the brightest oranges and reds he'd ever seen coiled round her in a figure of eight, eyes closed in content until it noticed the new presences. Closely tucking itself between her two legs, the feline watched Azriel warily, looking as if it'd scratch out his eyes if he deigned to wander too close to its master.

"You must be Azriel" her voice was softer than the first time he heard it. It seemed to carry on a light breeze to his ears, and he swore he could feel it flow around every inch if him in a comforting wave.

She offered him her name, turning slightly to stroke the neck of her mount. While her face turned its attention to her interests, Azriel noted the faraway gaze of her eyes, never quite focusing where it was directed. Even now, looking at the mare, it was almost as if she couldn't see-

His intake of breath must have been sharp with how quick everyone looked to him. Never in his long life had he seen someone who looked to be a blind high fae. Lucien had lost his eye to Amarantha, yes, but that was entirely different, and he still had one good one. She seemed to be comfortable in her condition, as if she'd lived her whole life with it, and never known what it was like to miss it.

Embarrassment and shame filled him when he realised what he'd done. Mor slightly turned away, and Aodhan looked ready to snap at him, gone was the curious male he first met and instead a protector stood in his place.

It was her who stepped in before he could make a bigger fool of himself. She walked with steady grace, not a foot unsure of where it stepped and held a hand out in greeting. "I understand its a shock to most who don't know me, so don't worry, I'm not offended."

Azriel looked to her hand and then his own, tanned and scarred and wondered what she'd make of them. Still, whatever weight he held about them he wouldn't turn away her olive branch, and gently grasped her own.

There was no gasp of surprised horror he was so used to by now. Her head tilted, and she brought up her other hand to trace the top of his while the other did the same to his palm. Warm, nimble fingers passed over each indent, mapping them, memorising each dip and curve and the contrast in scarred tissue to the flesh that remained.

It was tender, knowing, and Azriel felt so much in that one touch that he had to slightly pull to free his hand from a grasp like nothing he felt before. Even Elain, who had gazed at his hands and touched them more times than he could count, had never poured that much thought into the action. She would always have that look in her eyes as she did, of wanting to undo what had been done, and bring back unmarred flesh he couldn't even remember having. This female, Mother help him, had touched his hands like they had always been maimed, and held no remorse for what never could be again.

"Welcome to Indere. Mor's told me you'll be staying for while" His head snapped to his sister, shock at her easy reveal of information to someone she barely knew compared to those back in Velaris. He didn't know how much she had unveiled, and hoped that she'd kept the reason for his visit to herself. "For a while, yes. We thought it was time someone joined her." He watched them to see their reaction, his shadows that had been settled in the darkness of his wings thrummed in anticipation of being freed into the new world of secrets ripe for the taking. There was no sign of them knowing he'd spun the truth into a lie. Rhysand had sent him to check on Mor more closely, but it was secondary to him getting away from Prythian for a while.

"Well, I hope you enjoy your time here. It was lovely to meet you, but we've got to start the journey back home." Azriel matched her nod of farewell, and watched as she swung herself up into the saddle. The feline that had not moved since he had arrived began to slowly prowl as she readied to leave. How it was going to keep up with the speed of her mare left the shadowsinger perplexed.

Mor reached her side, and whispered her goodbyes. The only thing stopping their departure was Aodhan's unmoving stance, seemingly caught up in thought.

"Aodhan?" her questioning tone brought the male out of stupor, and a gleam shone over his face as he looked between Azriel, Mor and his companion. "Azriel, have you ever celebrated Samhain?"

It turned out today was just one big headache for Azriel as he tried to understand why Aodhan asked him such a question. "I can't say it's a big festival in Prythian no."

Aodhan's reason to laugh was something only privy to himself. Turning to Mor, the glint never left his eyes, "I think I found a solution to your little problem."

"They're from an island called Inis Gaoithe, it's north of the continent, and the swelling ocean surrounding it makes it impossible to cross by boat." Mor's words passed over him, but he still didn't grasp what she was trying to tell him.

The four of them had moved into a tavern not far from the road the two had initially went to start their journey. Ale sat in the tankard in front of himself and Aodhan, while the two ladies sipped from their glasses of wine, the feline curled up beside its master. It was Aodhan who took up the mantle of explaining, "It's part of an archipelago of Islands, ours is the largest of four, but they're all home to muintir na lasrach, a species of fae born from the pheonix."

Azriel scoured his mind for information about the pheonix, and the supposed fae that came from them. Pheonix hadn't been born in millenia, the last being recorded dead long before he was born. There was no mention of any fae like the ones mentioned, at least not in the records of Prythian. "I've never heard of anything like this before."

"It's not uncommon for people not to know of us. We've kept to ourselves for centuries, even during the first war with Hybern we played a very minor role, we didn't have the numbers to supply a great deal of support, especially with the rest of the continent on the fence of who to ally with." Her voice cut through his mind, even and calm. Aodhan had been vibrating with energy since they'd begun their explanation.

"What's the reason for telling me all of this?" He didn't know why but he directed his question to her instead of the other two. She took a drink from her glass before she continued. "I met Mor in the first few weeks of her arrival, and her work intrigues me. Our islands are cut off from the rest of the world for a long time, and I think we should entertain the idea of opening the borders. But, there's a slight problem. We have -" he voice stopped as she tried to find the right words, "criteria... for fae that are not of phoenix blood to visit the island. One of those being that they must be born with wings."

Aodhan's fluttered slightly at the mention. "Mor, unfortunately, is not included in that, and it makes it even more difficult for the chiefs to even begin entertaining the idea of a foreign visitor."

Azriel mulled over their words for an amount of time, but something wasn't adding up in his mind. He turned to address the problem. "So, what about you? Last I checked, there are no wings sprouting from your back."

It was the second time Aodhan reacted badly to Azriel that day. Whatever novelty he had built up with the other male was growing thin. "Don't you fucking dare ask something like tha-"

The call of his name stopped him short of lashing out any further. As she spoke, Azriel felt the foolishness begin to creep into his mind once more. "You're right to ask, I'd be concerned if you hadn't. Aodhan is my son, so you can think of me as an extension of him."

Speechless didn't begin to cover the way Azriel felt. They looked nothing alike, polar opposites in every way. And yet the certainty in her eyes, the unwavering pride she held in her tone as she spoke of him like that left no room for question. Aodhan's outburst had been warranted, for him to talk of his mother in such a way, to be suspicious of her explanation- Azriel for once felt drowned by the lack of knowledge he possessed.

"I'm sorry, for accusing you of.. well- I'm sorry." She shook her head, seeming to have already forgiven him before he had even asked. Aodhan. Not so much.

They resumed talking, Mor filling him in on how she had been sending letters to and from the archipelago for weeks now with no word of breaking through their strict rules. But with Azriel's arrival and his basic anatomy, well, the task began to seem much more doable in a shorter amount of time.

The four of them went their separate ways as the sun began to set, the others extending their stay for a day to allow him time to dissolve the information and come to an answer.

He and Mor walked back along the port, to the inn she had been staying at prior to his arrival. "I know this isn't what you were sent here for. But I think working on something like this will do you some good. Rhys means well, but you know he can sometimes be looking in the wrong direction for solutions."

He didn't answer, and hadn't really all day when it came to her. The distraction of the task in front of him was a welcome surprise. He hadn't had time since he met the two fae to think of what happened, too much information was still swirling that his mind had no extra space to be occupied by the pain.

"I'll cover for you, of course. They've agreed to allow letters to be sent in and out to my person, and I can pass them on to Velaris so the busybodies at home won't become suspicious ."

Azriel knew he had already decided before any of this. He'd go to Inis Gaoithe, open the borders and prove to Rhys and Feyre and everyone that he was worth something, some kind of recognition. The glint in his eyes must have been telling by the hand on his arm as Mor stopped him. "This isn't a succeed or fail mission Az. These fae, they've isolated themselves for reasons I don't know. They're happy, peaceful and refuse to have anything to do with our world anymore. I just want to try, to show them that we can create a world where everyone belongs..."

He looked at his sister, the woman he used to be so helplessly in love with, and sighed. "I know, I know. But I'm not going to half ass it at the same time. If I can find an opening, I'll take it, no matter what." Her smile was knowing, and she laughed under her breath. "I know you won't Az, you can't do anything with half a heart. It's what we love about you." He knew she wasn't just talking about Inis Gaoithe, or his work as the Shadowsinger.

But his heart was still torn and fractured, and the words barely made a dent, never mind trying to stitch it back together. Azriel wanted to be worth the love he so desperately craved to feel. He'd be the reason for something good in the world, and not just for secrets and dark dark deeds that kept everyone safe from the shadows.

He'd be worth the outward love that shone on those who walked in the sunlight, and not in the shadows like him. He just needed to prove it.

[ash-the-lizard-goddess]

You approach what you know as your own gods temple, but as you near the front door, you can tell immediately that something is amiss. Where are the temple guards, the priestesses that sit vigil, waiting for signs from the stars night and signals on the wind in the day? As you approach the door, you hear a muffled, high pitched squeal from within, and as you burst through the door, you find all that was missing outside.

The guards and priestesses are strewn about the main chamber of the temple, their faces contorted into expressions of pleasure, their hands down their pants. if they're wearing pants anymore, that is. Most have stripped, some have passed out, their hands still clutching at their nether regions.

A series of low, deep moans followed by a growl echoes from the back of the chamber, and as you step forward up the stairs towards the altar the source of the noises begins to come into view. the head priestess is there, stripped and bent over the altar, some large, humanoid shape behind her, gripping her hips and giving a loud growl as this creature slams into the priestess a final time, clearly emptying faerself inside the holy woman.

The creature pulls back and releases the priestess after a moment, letting her fall to the floor, a blissful expression of orgasm on her face and the creatures ejaculate leaking out of her freshly fucked hole.

The creature notices you and steps forward, into the light of a burning brazier so you can see faer features closely for the first time. Scales of iridescent purple line the creatures soft form of wide hips and large mounds in imitation of a feminine form. A massive, flat-ended tail swings back and forth behind faer, countered on the front by a member that seems to change shape and size as you gaze, becoming ideal for penetrating you specifically. A long tongue lolls out of a beaked mouth, an expression that would almost look silly if not for the four harsh, yellow, slitted eyes above it. The creature gives what you can only assume is a grin before speaking in a low, naturally seductive voice.

"There you are! My new champion! Oh, how I've waited for this moment." Fae licks along her lipless mouth as they look you over before looking back at the high priestess, still panting and twitching on the floor. "Don't worry about her, i was simply showing her the tenants of her new worship."

You ask nervously, with no small amount of fear, what they mean by 'new worship'

"Oh right, you've been away for some time, haven't you? Yes, I've replaced your old god, he was such a... what's the word... a prude. No room for fun, all mystic signs and prophecies." Two of faer four eyes roll. " But I believe having fun with you mortals is much more entertaining, for both sides."

You protest that your old god was wise and fair, but your words seem... unconvincing. You slowly realize that she must be right, and you feel compelled to obey faer now as your convictions about your old god are drained away in faer presence. You ask what your new goddesses name is, and begin to strip your clothing before you even realize you're doing it.

The creature, your new goddess, steps toward you, their divine cock hardening, a feral look crossing her face in the flickering fire "You may call me Ashley. now, on your knees, my champion. Let me show you how to pray to me."

[blurbfics]

There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part four]

Summary: Time skip. Cassian decides Eowyn could benefit from a little extra training. a.k.a., let the slow-burn begin

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: swearing, sexual implications, male/female sparring, shy!Azriel, use of the word "ginger" to refer to Eris

Minors, do not interact.

a/n: thank you so much for accompanying me in this journey! let's figure out where this story is headed together, shall we?

part three

"I just kept hoping, I just kept hoping

the way would become clear.

I spent all this time

tryna play nice and fight my way here.

See, I've been having me a real hard time

but it feels so nice to know I'm gonna be alright."

Alabama Shakes, This Feeling

CASSIAN POV

He knew, from the moment he woke up, that today would be a good day.

Knew it when he woke up with his mate’s lips wrapped around his cock, knelt with her ass up from between his legs as she looked up at him, her gray eyes lit with knowing mischief as she roused him in his second favorite way of waking up (second only to his gaining of consciousness from between her thighs, a game they liked to play– how long until Cassian realizes he’s being suffocated by his mate’s pussy?)

Knew it when he went down to breakfast, to find his usual porridge, the gruel made better when his mate added those tiny dashes of cinnamon and allspice she’d been obsessing over since Eowyn began to introduce a myriad of spices she assured didn’t carry empty calories and made everything taste better.

But getting punched in the face? That solidified his assessment for the day.

The sound of bones hitting flesh was not an uncommon sound in the training ring. After all, that was what they were there to do. But the sound of Eowyn’s small but fierce fist connecting with the side of his jaw echoed through the ring with such a thunderous smack that everyone stopped what they were doing and focused only on them.

When he saw Eowyn’s wide, almost fearful eyes, the only part of her face revealed from her coverings, the only thing he could do was grin in reply. “Think you can do that again?” He challenged, moving his jaw side to side to relieve the familiar ache.

Instantly, the fear disappeared as she remembered that this was what they were here for and she had done absolutely nothing wrong.

It had been a few months since the young priestess had joined their little group of Warrior Priestesses, as he liked to call them. Although he had to admit he was rather partial to his mate and her friends, Eowyn had been quick to sneak her way into his limited list of favorite people. The girl was strong, both in character and when it came to the constant drilling they did. She was determined and always hyper-focused, never hesitating to repeat a motion or new move again and again until she got it right— did so, with little to no complaint, as well.

She was funny in a strange way, sharing that dry wit that he always came to associate with his mate, one of the reasons he believed the girls got along so well. And she was incredibly smart. He had no need to see her septganiums to know that, she simply oozed a certain sense of knowing. One had only to take a look at her deep dark eyes (in the rare and far between occasions she didn’t cover her entire head, that is) to see that shrewdness in her eye, as if she was in on a joke with the world at everyone else’s expense.

But most of all, she was fast.

The first time he’d seen her and Azriel go at it during their hand-to-hand combat sessions (as she was the odd-fae out when the females paired off to spar), he hadn’t hesitated to insert himself, practically trembling with excitement as he proposed a trade with his brother. Azriel could train with the three Valkyries, as they were honing in their sword-fighting and everyone knew that swordplay was Az’s area of expertise, while Cassian gave Wynnie a whirl, he had said, winking at the priestess whose only reply was to jut out a hip and rest a hand on it in an endearingly sassy way.

He hadn’t missed the way his brother’s jaw clenched in annoyance despite his otherwise unmoved face, as he merely nodded once, stilted, and left them to spar. He also hadn’t missed the fact that he could often feel his brother’s penetrating gaze on them whenever Cass had to physically adjust Eowyn’s elbows or whenever he landed a slightly-too-hard blow upon the young priestess (who actually took the jabs with much more grace and sportsmanship than others he knew— I’m looking at you, Rhys— he called out into the open void of his head in case the High Lord was eavesdropping).

But today of all days, Eowyn’s training had paid off. Months of hard training and half-taunting her had culminated into the perfect moment where she had landed a concise and heavy blow to his jaw, in a manner much too fast and skilled for him to catch immediately.

He had never been more proud of her.

Surprise gone, she smirked at him from under her covering, eyes glinting with mirth, “I’m about to drop you like a sack of potatoes.”

Grinning back, he got in position, wings ruffling slightly and beckoned her to try.

—

Although no one had the remotest intention of allowing any of the Valkyries near the upcoming Blood Rite, Cassian and Azriel had decided that the obstacle course from the previous year had been an invigorating and perfect team-building success.

The Valkyries, both the new and the slightly more experienced, continued their tradition at the end of each training session to attempt to cut the ribbon, not so much as the true Valkyrie rite of passage, but out of respect and tradition for their predecessors. The obstacle course had been something that was itching at Cassian’s brain again and he was looking forward to seeing what this batch of Warrior Priestesses could do.

Thus, he had dragged Azriel over to the kitchen table that same night to begin to brainstorm possible courses for the girls that didn’t overlap with what they had done before. Thankfully his brother was an endless pit of ideas, some more fatal that others, but all so concise that Cassian knew Azriel had been planning this for much longer than he thought.

Yawning behind his mug, Cassian inspected his brother before taking a sip from his lavender and chamomile tea, yet another addition to his routine influenced by Eowyn. The reminder of the young female brought a sudden idea to his mind.

“What do you think of Eowyn?” He asked his brother casually, trying to remember if he’d ever seen the pair interact beyond the basics of training.

Azriel, to his credit, didn’t choke on his own tea, exactly, but Cassian— not the most observant by nature but also not an idiot— noticed the way his brother seemed to tense, his breathing halting before painstakingly exhaling out the smallest hint of a shudder, his eyes suddenly fixed on the fruit at the center of the table.

“What… do you mean?” Azriel asked slowly.

Cassian chuckled lightly, a little confused as he looked at his brother in a way to say what do you think I mean? Just exactly what I asked.

“She punched me in the face today,” Cassian stated obviously, as if that hadn’t been the talk echoing through the mountain all day long. His brother looked up at him and blinked, face blank. 

Cassian took that as encouragement to continue, although he found himself slightly concerned at the fact that he had to spell it out for him. “She’s skilled. And she works hard, wants to work hard,” he emphasized. “I mean she hasn’t said anything to me, but I think some extra training would do her good.”

“You want her to train more?” His brother seemed to gather his composure, and although his strange behavior sparked a little tendril of interest in Cassian, he let it go for the moment.

“I want you to train her more,” Cassian corrected, placing his clasped hands on the table in a manner he’d seen Rhys do one too many times.

“Why don’t you do it?” Azriel bristled.

“Because I have courier duties with what’s-his-ginger-face.”

“And you assume I have nothing better to do with my time? Weren’t you assigned that job specifically because I was too swamped with work?”

“But all that shit with Briallyn is over and done with, and we haven’t heard a peep or anything related to Koschei in months,” he took another sip of his tea, making a mental note to send Eowyn some flowers or something. He’d quickly gotten addicted to his night tea, almost as much as the fancy roasted beans she liked to grind together and brew for him and the other girls whenever Nesta had them over for lunch. “That is, unless you want to take back your place and deal with that pompous asshole?”

Cassian thought about it. “Actually, that does sound better.”

“No,” Azriel spoke with such finality that Cassian could only stare at him. Azriel cleared his throat, “you know I can’t stand that prick.” He looked away and sighed, “alright, I’ll train her.”

“If she even wants to,” Cassian chuckled. “I know you don’t stay here as much as you used to, but you should consider coming back here if she agrees. And don’t start with that ‘I don’t want to intrude’ bullshit. Wynnie hangs around here all the time and we barely even see her.”

“That’s because she’s always in the greenhouse.”

“And how would you know that?” Cassian couldn’t help but prod, disregarding his earlier decision to leave things alone. Azriel only motioned to his shadows, eyebrow raised. Cassian continued, although with no small amount of doubt at his brother’s nonchalance. “You know, it’s actually been pretty nice having her around. Granted, she’s always talking to herself, but she’s got good taste,” he brought the tea cup up in mock salute.

“You don’t have to convince me, I already agreed to train her” Azriel rolled his eyes.

But there was more there. Cassian knew his brother, knew him better than anyone other than Rhys, who could quite literally enter his mind, and he knew there was something there, something simmering under the surface.

He only hoped no one got burned in the process.

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands in surrender, “we’ll ask her tomorrow then.”

—

As he settled down for bed after taking a long and quite enlightening bubbly bath with his mate, he listened as she shared the details of her day with him. Nesta’s back was to him as she sat on the bed, hands expertly plaiting her hair into a long loose braid as she recounted her day, asking him about his own as they had come to do as part of their nightly routine since they solidified their mating bond.

He shrugged as he told his wife about his day, tactfully avoiding his plan to reconstruct the obstacle courses that she and the priestesses hated so much, but recounted everything else, including his idea to have Azriel train Wynnie.

He noticed, as he noticed every fluttering eyelash and breath his mate so much as took, the way she tensed up slightly, back still to him before she swung her finished braid over her shoulder and settled into her side of the bed, eyebrow raised questioningly at him.

“What?” He asked immediately, “you don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s going to complicate things, that’s for sure.”

“What do you mean?” He frowned, “has she complained to you? Am I being too hard on her?” He asked, suddenly thinking back to his interactions with Eowyn and trying to decipher if she ever expressed any discomfort or displeasure by the training. But damn, it was so hard to tell without being able to see her face properly.

“No, it’s not that,” his mate assured, immediately, knowing her mate well enough to know he’d spiral into a hole and start overthinking his friendship with all the priestesses while he was at it. “It’s just that..” she trailed off slightly, gray eyes turning up to think about her words, “you know… Gwyn hasn’t spoken a word to Azriel since you let it slip that he hated the dagger she gave him-“

“I apologized for that!”

“-yes, but she hasn’t spoken to him for two months. And Azriel has barely even noticed,” she huffed. “But do you know who Az can’t seem to take his eyes off?”

He knew this. Of course, he knew this. He had felt Az’s eyes on them on more than one occasion, and he knew well that his brother seemed to have a thing for unattainable and uninterested females.

He only frowned, not needing to answer.

“And Gwyn has noticed. Of course she’s noticed, she watches him like a hawk.”

Cassian settled into bed, pulling his mate into his chest. “You think there’s something going on between Az and Wynnie?” he mumbled to her.

“No,” Nesta said immediately, settling further into the spot between his shoulder and neck that she’d claimed as her own. “Wynnie wouldn’t do that to Gwyn.”

Cassian hummed, mind turning before coming to a decision. “But we can’t meddle in their business, Nes. I think Eowyn would really benefit from more training and I can’t do it myself, otherwise I would.”

“I know,” his mate sighed sleepily, “I’m just saying it’s going to be a proper mess.”

—

After training, a session no less grueling than the rest, but not quite as backbreaking as the obstacle courses they were going to face in the next few months, he called Wynnie over after her daily attempt at cutting the ribbon.

The practice had become a staple in their daily training, and every day the priestesses would stand before the ribbon, swords raised in their preferred manner of combat and would slice the swords down with precision, if not quite the necessary finesse required to cut the ribbon clean off.

“I know, I know, ‘it’s all in the wrist,’” she huffed when she approached them. 

Despite his own suspicions that his brother held a special interest in the young priestess that went beyond a trainer/trainee status, he hadn’t truly considered why until his conversation with his mate the previous night. After his mating bond with Nesta— no, after meeting Nesta, even while she was still human— he hadn’t bothered to look at females in any other way that wasn’t purely platonic or inconsequential. 

He knew Eowyn was a rather pretty fae, of course, even despite the scars she kept well hidden, but he’d never seen her as anything other than his mate’s friend. As his friend.

She was of average height, neither too tall nor too short. Her clothes were no different from the rest of the priestesses, if perhaps only darker tones, and she often wore what he thought were skirts but were only very loose pants that allowed for unrestricted, if only heavier, movements. She also lacked the circlet and stone placed upon the center of the forehead that most, if not all, priestesses wore, even over their face coverings.

He’d seen her face only a handful of times when he "accidentally" walked in on the females having their bi-weekly lunches, and although he couldn’t pinpoint every feature exactly, not wanting to be caught staring at her, he knew she was pretty and had possibly the darkest eyes he’d ever seen.

And perhaps it was that. Her eyes. So dark and expressive and full of knowing that had his brother in a trance, for when she approached Cassian and Azriel wearing only a mask-like covering over only the bottom half of her face— her eyes shining bright from the exercise and dark hair pulled away into two braids down her back, a few stray hairs rebelling against their captivity, his brother only stared and didn’t say. A single. Word.

“So, what do you usually do after practice?” Cassian asked casually, feeling the need to ease them into a conversation that truly shouldn’t be all that difficult to have.

She gave him a weird look, one eyebrow raising slightly, “Unless I’m needed at the library, I like to go to the greenhouse while the sun is still out and tend to the plants. Then I go back to the library and work,” she looked at him questioningly, “why?”

“How would you feel about a little extra training?”

She snorted, “you’re kidding, right?”

“I’m not,” he said seriously, glancing at his brother from the corner of his eye to see if he had anything to add, but his brother’s gaze only remained fixed on the young priestess, taking in the unfamiliar sight of her dark hair. “We think you could really benefit from a few extra hours of one-on-one training and-“

“Am I doing that badly?” she asked, eyebrows furrowing, “I thought this was all just to create a routine. To destress and gain strength and all that.”

“It is” he assured immediately, “and on the contrary, you’re doing great. We can see how hard you’re working and all the effort you put in, and we just wanted to offer you some—“

“You come back to the ring sometimes. At night, when everyone’s in bed,” Azriel spoke up, if perhaps a bit softer than was normal for him. “Do you have trouble sleeping?”

If she was surprised that he knew about her late night prowling, she didn’t show it. Her dark shrewd eyes scanned his face before meeting his eyes. “Sometimes,” she replied in the same tone.

“This could help you with that, if our group training isn’t enough,” Cassian added.

She considered their words for a few seconds and crossed her arms over her chest, finally nodding slowly. “How would it work? I just stay here and train with you both for another hour or..?”

“Well, it would just be Az, mostly. Maybe if I get a day off, I could stop by for a bit” Cassian clarified, “and we can work around whatever routine works best for you. If you’re needed at the library on any day, you can just let us know and we’ll figure something out.”

“To start, would you be willing to stay for another two hours, maybe three times a week?” Azriel asked.

She considered it for a second and then sighed, “alright. I can’t say I’m looking forward to getting my ass handed to me by the Lord of Shadows, but that should work out fine.”

Cassian snorted a laugh, glancing over at his brother to see his lip barely twitch in amusement and his ears turn red. Lord of Shadows, huh? Maybe not so unattainable and uninterested, after all.

“We start tomorrow,” Azriel said, a smile barely grazing his lips, hazel eyes shining bright.

part five

disclaimer: image is not mine. i found it on pinterest :D

taglist: @lilah-asteria @a-courtof-azriel @honk4emoboyz @feyretopia @mrsjna @buttermilktea11 @bravo-delta-eccho

[cottoncandy-cult]

Babification Octavinelle

INTRO/Dorm Selection Includes: Azul, Floyd, Jade

@azulashengrottospiano I finally did it! Now just 5 more dorms and 18 characters to go XD

Remember this is a fem reader insert with she/her pronouns

Azul had been in the Octavinelle dorm lounge with Floyd and Jade discussing work, it was one of their few days off and they were talking about some new renovations Azul planned to do to the monstro lounge. Floyd believed they needed some kind of gift shop, while Jade believed they needed a garden cafe. Azul had planned to consult with his sweet (Y/n), she had been lending him a hand in the creativity department for a while now. It helped that she seemed to know so many people, but given how deeply involved she has been in each dorm it isn't much of a surprise. As Azul was checking his phone had was also attempting to tune out the rambles of the tweels, Floyd trying to correct something that Jade said involving fashion as usual. Azul often tried to tune those conversations out, he couldn't understand a word Floyd said when he was talking about fashion. Though this chaotic peace had been interupted when Lilia just seemed to drop out of the sky infront of them, the twins near jumping behind the couch from the sudden and silent appearance. It took every ounce of muscle control in Azul not to do the same thing, he had an image he had to uphold and getting scared behind the couch was not something that helped said image. "Hello Lilia, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He had spoken to Lilia on occasion, especially since he often showed up to events in Malleus's place, but he never expected to see the short male in the Octavinelle dorm. The monstro lounge maybe, he did come in every now and then for a treat, but the fact that he was in the dorm lounge caused a few pink flags to pop up. Though those pink flags were soon crimson read as he spotted the child cradled against the male's chest, especially since the child was swaddled in an oversized ramshackle dorm uniform jacket. The fae male chuckled as he noticed the vague way the merman paled, tilting his head with a closed eye smile. "(Y/n) actually, is the reason I'm here. You see, this sweet little girl was the victim of small potionology accident." Azul quirked an eyebrow as the tweels were peaking down at the sleeping prefect in Lilia's arms, he himself was trying not to swear as he already knew where this was going when Lilia started retelling the events in class.

At the end of it Azul was squeezing the bridge of his nose, what God did she piss off to be in the middle of the most chaotic accidents EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. "Don't worry though, Professor Crewel is working with the headmage to fix this. He should be by soon with what he called a 'Baby bag' so that she can be taken care of in the meantime." Lilia carefully passed the sleeping girl to Azul, helping the tense male hold the small girl when he realized that he didn't know how to hold a baby. He then sat her school bag by Floyd, her other clothing articles were hidden inside because Lilia was a gentleman like that. "My number is in her phone; I've raised a few babies in my day so if you need some help just call."

-

It had been a few hours since then, the professor having come by to drop off the baby bag with a book borrowed from the college library about unplanned parenting for young adults. A book he never in his life thought he would EVER be reading; she has been the first of many things for him and at this point he was curious how she managed to create such a chaotic balance of experiences. He had relaxed a bit after getting used to holding her for a while and soon enough he found himself staring at her, he never thought about what she may have looked like as a baby even after she had seen some of his childhood photos. Currently he sat in the pool that was built into his dorm leader room, he was leaning back against the wall of the pool as he watched (Y/n). She had been awake for a while; he had thought that maybe she was aware of the situation because she had been fairly quiet and wasn't very fussy. Currently he was in his merform, something he had grown comfortable with her being around after their many trips to the beach. His sleek black tentacles held her in the water, she was in a little (F/c) swim dress and sat comfortably on his curled tentacles. Her tiny hands gently grabbing at the other tentacles that would poke her nose or tickle her sides or cheeks, he hadn't had any prior experience with human children, so he had found himself quite distracted by her reactions to him. He especially loved how her nose crinkled when she giggled, something he noticed before in her regular age but was much more obvious now in this form. "It isn't fair angel fish; how can you be so cute after causing so much trouble." He chuckled as he brought her closer, rubbing his cheek on hers as he rested her against his chest. It was a quiet night and all things considered he was in a content mood. He watched her tiny hands move against his pale grey skin, tiny eyes marveling at the odd texture. He felt so proud of himself, adoring just how curious she was about HIM. It was definitely an ego boost, he knew she cared for him and found him interesting but as an infant it was such innocent and blatant curiosity. And since she was a baby, he didn't have to feel embarrassed about anything! I mean who are you going to tell? The stuffed dalmatian toy professor Crewel had put in the baby bag? His eyes widened a bit when he felt her tiny hands grab his cheeks, laughing away at something he had no clue about. He didn't know how long it would be till she was turned back, but these moments would certainly make any hassle or stress until that point worth it. He went back to using his tentacles to help her play and swim in the water, buying him some time to think of the future. He found himself hoping, now more than ever, that his future would involve her for many years to come.

Floyd had been running laps at the start of gym class when Coach Vargas had called him over to his office, he noticed Lilia was sitting in front of the coach's desk and he could tell the male was holding something but didn't quite know what. "What's goin on? Why is Mendako here?" (Yes, I'm using the Japanese nicknames cause calling Lilia a flapjack octopus in English just feels insulting. LMFAO) Floyd put his hands on his hips, tilting his head slightly as Lilia stood from his seat. "Well, young Lilia said there was some sort of accident in potionology involving the ramshackle prefect. I'll let him explain, I got stretches to demonstrate!" With that Vargas had left the room, as if he didn't just stir something in the merman. Lilia seemed to sense Floyd's shift in behavior, approaching him with a jacket swaddled infant. "Don't worry (Y/n)'s just fine, she just a little…little." He chuckled as he motioned to the infant, watching Floyd squat to be able to look at her better. Lilia took the chance to show him how to hold her while he explained the situation, chuckling to himself at the end as he saw how Floyd had the small girl resting perfectly on his large forearm. "So, I'm just supposed to take care of shrimpy til Ishidai finds a way to turn her back?" Floyd's heterochromic eyes gazed down at the child in his arm, tilting his head. His shrimpy was already pretty small, but now she was TINY. He couldn't help but chuckle, her cheeks were just so chubby he couldn't help but poke them. Are all human babies so warm and squishy? Or was his cute little shrimpy just extra special like that? "Yep, that sums it up. Professor Crewel should be by to drop off a bag of supplies for her soon. For now, he just asked I bring this to you since he knows you would probably need your hands free." Lilia held up a black and teal harness, a little gold charm dangling from the zipper on the back. "Huh, I didn't know they made functional harnesses." The male was aware that they were sometimes worn simply as decoration for an outfit, but he didn't know humans had harnesses just for baby carrying. "Mhm, let me hold her while you put it on. Once we get her settled, I need to get back to Diasomnia before my own kids stir up trouble." He chuckled at Floyd's confused look, but true to his word once the sleeping child was comfortably snug to Floyd's chest the batty male had left for his dorm. Floyd had left the office and took his lover's stuff to where his own was, looking down at the small girl and wondering how long it would take to have his normal shrimpy back. He had already tried to talk to her 3 times, each time forgetting she couldn't talk back, and he really missed his shrimpy's voice.

Because he had the prefect in his care, he didn't have to do the daily exercises, instead being told to just walk around the basketball court until free time started. He could feel eyes on him as he walked around, he didn't really care because if they were smart, he knew they'd keep their mouths shut about him with his baby shrimpy. He slowly came to a stop when she started squirming, he rested his hand on her back as he watched her closely. Observing how her tiny (E/c) eyes opened with a whiny yawn as she soon began watching him back, tiny head tilting as she looked at him curiously. He chuckled a little at how her tiny hands reached up and padded at the bottom of his cheek, making him lean down as best he could so she could do her thing. He quietly observed with a lazy smirk as she tugged gently on his bangs and patted his cheeks, he didn't know if she was trying to communicate or was just being a curious baby, but he found it quite amusing in an adorable way. Though his moment was interrupted when professor Crewel approached him with a large bag on his arm, cartoon fish covering the outside of it. "Glad to see you aren't breaking down yet, surprising given how most of the students in this school would probably react in your situation." Floyd looked up to Crewel, chuckling some as he scratched the back of his head. "Well, she did just wake up, hopefully shrimpy will be a good girl until we can get back to the dorm." He followed Crewel after the professor motioned him to follow, watching as they made their way to the lockeroom. "Well, we hope to have her sorted out by the end of the week, till then I need to at least make sure you're prepared for childcare. Tell me, what do you know about diapers?" Crewel couldn't help but chuckle at the male's confusion, this was going to be an adventure. Thankfully Floyd was a quick learner, especially when it came to something he cares about. So, it wasn't long before he was returning to class, his shrimpy in a cute little mermaid jumper and the baby bag resting on his shoulder as he filled a bottle with some juice. Free time had started and those that weren't gathering things to take outside were now gawking at the tall male, especially those like Jamil and Riddle who were quite familiar with the male.

Riddle had been the very first to approach him at that, his curiosity getting the best of him. "So Floyd, who's baby is that?" Riddle tilted his head as he observed the child, something about her feeling oddly familiar. Floyd looked down at the little red head, chuckling as he held the bottle for her so she could have a drink. "My shrimpy had a little accident in potionology, so I've gotta watch her until Ishidai can turn her back." That made Riddle's eyes widen, he seemed so calm despite the fact his significant other had been turned into an infant. "That's certainly interesting, never a boring day with the prefect around huh?" This had been Jamil; he was standing nearby as he looked for a volleyball in the ball cart. When he finally found one, he stood up straight and approached the two as he looked at the little girl. The innocent look in her eyes reminded him of when Kalim was still real young, he was actually pretty cute back then in Jamil's opinion but that could have been because there wasn't much Kalim could do. "Wait if you're watching (Y/n)… Who's watching Grim?" This thought had Riddle freezing a bit, the group going silent before Floyd shrugged. "Idunno, not my problem though." And with a chuckle he walked away, the two male's making eye contact and agreeing to go see Crowley since they knew it wasn't wise to leave the fiery cat unsupervised.

The calmer leech twin smiled as he sat in the vip room of the monstro lounge, Lilia had brought (Y/n) to him earlier and professor Crewel had just left after dropping off the baby bag and teaching him a few things about human babies. He had the small girl cradled to his chest as he fed her, it felt oddly domestic to the male as he was usually helping Floyd deal with problematic people or trying to balance a busy schedule. He had always had a tendency to try and be much lighter handed and gentle since coming on land, it wasn't until now that he realized just how essential that was. She weighed practically nothing to him; he was almost concerned but trusted Crewel when he had said she was just fine aside from being babyfied. "What am I going to do with you darling? How is it you manage to end up in these situations even without Grim?" He chuckled as he poked her cheek, his smile widening as she grabbed his finger with a huff while still drinking from the bottle. He hadn't had much experience with babies before, especially not with human babies, so he was fascinated by everything she did. Trying to see what she does differently compared to when she is her regular self, as well as just enjoying her reactions to the things he has done and showed her. He had just brought her back from the giant fish tank in the lounge to feed her, the way her eyes lit up and her tiny hands gently touching the glass as she watched all the colorful fish had made him delighted. He knew no matter what he'd be even more attached to his sweet angel fish, for once she was completely reliant on him. He could spoil and care for her the way he wanted, and she couldn't stop him and didn't seem aware enough to feel guilty as she usually does when he tries to tend to her. Granted there were some things he wasn't looking forward too, but he understood the naturalness of it all and was more than capable of overlooking and forgetting about anything that may make her selfconscious. His goal was just to keep her healthy, safe and loved until she could return to her normal self. He reached over for his phone with a grin, quick to turn on the camera. He decided to make the best of the situation, and that included getting plenty of pictures of her cute pudgy face. He couldn't wait to show the pictures back to her, so he was careful and picky about the selfies he took with her and of the pictures he took of her as a whole. He wanted the absolute cutest ones to show her, and possibly any other poor soul who might be curious. Though he was quick to put his phone away when she pushed the mostly empty bottle away, which he moved to sit on the coffee table as he placed his legs together and rested her along his thighs. Crewel had showed him this video he claimed would be better for her than burping her like they do on tv shows, in which he was slightly moving her body and somewhat rubbing her stomach. This was supposed to reduce the chances of her spitting up and help her digest better so the milk isn't just setting in place in her stomach. It was a somewhat complicated explanation, but he understood that it was meant to be the better method and that was what he was going to do. Her little giggles made him chuckle, and the slight surprised face she made at her little burp had him slumping over a little as he laughed. Being an infant, she didn't have much conscious control over her actions or expressions, and he was absolutely loving it. "Always so interesting my little angle fish, you always manage to make my day so fun." He was careful as he lifted her to rest on his chest, leaning back some as he moved a small cover over her back. He rested a large hand over her body, observing how it covered the small space and taking note just how tiny she was compared to him.

"Come on (Y/n) it's nap time, you've been awake for a while now. When we get back to the dorm, I'll set up some toys for you to play with on the bed." He moved his other hand to gently cup the back of her head, smiling down at her half-lidded gaze as her tiny hands crumpled his shirt. Since it was her first day as a baby, he figured she may be pretty low energy, at least for a while after the transformation. Because of this he knew things may be a bit more hectic tomorrow, but Crewel promised to make the other teachers aware of the situation so he should be able to step out of class when she gets fussy or maybe even just pick up some notes and class work until she is back to normal. He'd make it work either way, after all she was turned on school property and in class, so they were technically responsible for this transformation. He knew Crowley wouldn't push his luck with the octo-trio, it would be bad for business as they say. Afterall Octavinelle does a lot in means of helping with school funding and events, and Azul was smart enough to find a way to get what he wants without jeopardizing himself. But that was nuclear level thinking, right now he just needed to worry about not falling asleep himself.

[xx-lemon-drop-xx]

𝓕𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓜𝓮 𝓝𝓸𝓽 ↬𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊

"Sleep. For in a thousand years I will love you all the same."

1,163 words.

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

"That's impossible."

(Y/n) concluded, peering down at the name- her Fathers name, in the textbook. "It has to be some sort of coincidence. I've never been here before-"

"You might not have been but.. You know how you came here?" Ace started, Grim looking up at everyone, before stealing her yogurt. (Y/n) didn't try to stop him this time. Her appetite was gone.

"Yeah. I woke up in one of the coffin things with Grim."

She said, Ace nodded, "Well, what if there's a way to leave Twisted Wonderland for another world or realm. Whatever we want to call it. You managed to come here, which means-"

"There has to be a way to get back out." (Y/n) finished for him, in which Ace nodded. (Y/n) looked back down at the textbook, reading the line again.

Beloved Soldier Goes Missing

In 1871 Derek (L/n) was one of the many soldiers to fight and survive in the Great war of 1971. Thirty years later, he and his daughter go missing in an unexplainable phenomenon.

"He fought in that Fae war..?" (Y/n) started to flip through the textbook, coming to a familiar page- Lilia picture. "Lilia was a general. If I want answers I need to go to him."

Grabbing a pen (Y/n) scribbled down the page number on her hand before snapping the textbook shut and standing up from her seat, making her trio of friends look up at her.

"I'm borrowing this," She stated, "I'll bring it back." Without letting Deuce talk she turned and ran off, towards Diasomnia. Grim looked at her left-behind plate and shrugged, grabbing it.

"More for me."

-

The doors to Diasomnia swung open with a loud bang, making the students jump and look over. Sebek scowled, about to snap at (Y/n) before she held up a hand and walked by, making him shut up. She immediately went to Lilia, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him away.

"I need to talk to you."

The elder Fae let her drag him along to a more secluded spot of Diasmonia before sitting down at a table and flopping the book in front of him. He blinked, in silent surprise before sitting down as well as she flipped through pages before stopping and pointing at a name.

"Do you know him?" (Y/n) demanded in a way, a bit of anxiety running in her voice as Lilia looked over the page before slowly shaking his head.

"No, I don't. Why-"

"Because he's my father."

(Y/n) blurted, taking Lilia aback. He looked back at the textbook again and then back at her. "You're sure?"

"Yes. That's him. Maybe it's all some type of coincidence but why would he have my father's exact same name? But he wouldn't have been alive for that long unless he was-"

"Fae."

Lilia finished off the sentence for her, before standing up. "There were many soldiers in that war- I'm sorry, but he wasn't one that I commanded over. I'm afraid I've only briefly heard of him when he went missing."

He stated, (Y/n) looked up at him, seeming to have hit a dead end. Lilia offered her a hand, and she took it, standing up herself. "I'm so confused."

"I bet you are. Come on, let me go get us some juice and we can see what we can find in the library. I'll help you out the best I can with this little mystery."

(Y/n) nodded, thankfully, before following after the Fae, taking slow breaths to calm herself. The trip to the school's library didn't prove anything useful, and with a sip of the juice Lilia snuck in for them, she sighed, running her hands through  her hair. There was nothing here about Derek.

"There's nothing here."

She stated, looking over at Lilia who peered over at her from the book he was peeking through about one of the Fae wars. She wondered what it was like- needing to go through all these books of a war you went through. Did it bring back bad memories? Did it hurt?

"I'm afraid not. Though, I may have a solution for you in the meantime." He said, gaining her attention from the book she was looking through. Lilia continued on,

"Perhaps I can set some things up- and winter break is in two weeks. Maybe you can come with us and we can visit the library there. In Briar Valley there's got to be something about your father, little one."

He stated, (Y/n) gave a bit of a forced smile, though she was still thankful for him. "Thank you- but.. I do have a question."

"Hmm?"

"If you.. Y'know, fought in the wars shouldn't that make you... old?"

The question brought a smile of amusement to Lilia's face, and he shrugged, explaining about the life of a Fae.

"We don't exactly grow old, as you may put it. When a Fae reaches maturity, they stay that way until they ultimately die. Though I will admit due to coming to this school I may have worked a bit of magic to keep my appearance the way it is right now. Khehe."

He laughed, at the surprised look on your face. "So you used to look different from how you do now?"

"Very much so. If you come with us to Briar Valley, not only will you be able to get to know a bit of answers, though you may also be able to see me in my true form. Though, you have to keep it a secret from everyone aside from Diasomnia if you do see it." He teased, with a slight snicker.

"Okay! One more question.."

"And that is?"

(Y/n) breathed out a breath she wasn't aware she was even holding, and looked up at Lilia, a bit nervous. She could very well not be of 'Human' species.

"If my father is a Fae, then does that mean..?"

Lilia nodded, reaching out to take a hold of one of your hands. "You very well may have Fae blood running through your veins. That would also make the scent you have more understandable too. You do smell like you are half blood. Though if you are, that means you will live a bit longer than normal humans, I hope you are aware of that."

(Y/n) nodded, closing her eyes for a moment to gather her bearings, before smiling slightly at him. She thanked him, and they both stood up.

"It's not often we have company over at Diasomnia. Why don't you come over for dinner? I'm cooking tonight."

"That sounds like a great plan. Thank you in advance for having me over."

Lilia smiled, nodded, and walked off, (Y/n) following after him to tell Grim she wouldn't be at Ramshackle for dinner tonight.

The glasses of half empty grape juice and books were piled on the table behind them, forgotten about.

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

What is UP moonlight and ire nation, Im being tormented by intrusive thoughts rn, so I have decided to read a chapter of A Court of Mist and Fury and hope they stop when Im done with this. Last time on the Flames and Darkness Liveblog we had Lucien finally finding Feyre and Feyre being needlessly cruel to him until he left again. also, Feyre used her Tamlin-powers to shapeshift herself a pair of wings and I think that was pretty much it, I feel like not a lot happens in these chapters tbh. And yet I always have so much to say to say about them... Whatever, lets get into this

Chapter 48

Is Feyre smelling the other people at this inn having sex? what kinda smells and noises is she talking about

Theyre in a village that consists of just the inn theyre staying at, a tailor, a grocery store and a brothel? I mean presumably theres actual houses there too but that doest seem right. Also, if its as in-the-middle-of-nowhere as Feyre claims, where the hell are they getting groceries and what kind of groceries are they selling

of course theres only ONE BED and its soooooo small oh noooo do you guys think theyre gonna have sex or what

Oh and of course Feyre cant demand that Rhysand sleep on the floor because its too small to even do that theyre gonna have the wildest sex, and by wildest sex I mean theyre both gonna squeeze each other into the bed under the comically small ceiling of this broomcloset of a room and lay on top of each other without moving like a sandwhch made out of just faemeat

I feel like a cape thats cut to fit around these bigass illyrian wings would lose a lot of its functionality tbh, unless it was like, a wrapping for the wings to protect them from the cold, but I dont think thats the case with Rhysand's cape, i think it either just has holes or is some kind of weird shape, but I feel like if your in these harsh winter winds, having a cape fluttering around your wings would be pretty distracting considering how sensitive supposedly they are

WAIT. do we count this cape as a new Rhys-outfit or do we not. Im on the fence because on one hand, he's just wearing it with his usual illyrian leathers and its really just an accessoire, like I wouldnt count what he wore in the CoN as a new outfit just because he wore a crown with his black tunic, but on the other hand, I feel like a cape can really drastically alter the look of an outfit in a way most other acessoires cant. let me know what you think

of COURSE feyre would call the hypothetical painting she would make of Rhysand 'Death on Fast Wings' im gonna commit a crime

'"I love it when you look at me like that. [...] Like there's no reason to run away from my power. Like you're looking at me."' Does this imply that Rhysand identifies with the descriptor 'death on fast wings' because idk that seems weird. then again, he is a weirdo

Rhysand's pronouns are death/incarnate <- thought that popped into my head while I was writing the previous bullet point

By far the worst part about this book are all the sections where Feyre will just suck Rhysand off for a paragraph, she would not fucking say that

'"No, [you weren't afraid of me]. You were nervous, but you weren't afraid. I've felt pure fear often enough that I know the difference. Maybe that's why I couldn't leave you alone."' god, rhysand is such a creepy little freak. and not the good kind either

Feyre is being all like "oh, sure, the bed isnt small but we couldnt possibly both sleep in it without completely getting into each other's personal space, especially with his wings" girl??? tell him to put those thangs away???

god this paragraph is so annoying 'Fae-men were possessive, dominant and arrogant but the men of the Spring Court had a certain disregard [for my wishes] laying beneath the the surface' my brother in christ you have been in two and a half (2 1/2) courts and you know seven (7) fae-men personally

Also, this part where Feyre is like "if I was wasting away and Rhysand just stood by without doing anything about it, Cassian and Azriel would've gotten involved and given him a piece of their minds" is so funny knowing whats gonna happen in acosf, like no they fucking wouldnt! what are you talking about!

Oh man it just occurred to me. this is the chapter where Feyre finds out theyre mates isnt it. Or like, this part whre theyre at this inn is when she finds out, Im pretty sure itll last for multiple chapters

"[Rhysand] saw right through Ianthe the moment he met her." yeah because she broke into his bedroom and sexually harassed him and just outright told him that she wanted to have his children for the sake of power ?? I would hope he would see through that

I feel like theres been this pattern in this book of Feyre only being able to compliment Rhys in contrast with Tamlin and its very strange because you would think that after speedrunning their relationship development and spending about 500 pages worth of time with him, she would be able to point out some of his positives without immediately connecting them to her ex's negatives, but I guess thats too much to ask of this ROMANCE

Like, I forgot if this was something Feyre already said or if this is still coming up but I know theres a point in this book where she's like "I think I just loved Tamlin pre-UTM because I was so broken and traumatized from my shitty homelife that I fell for the first person to show me some kindness" and that is not how their relationship felt in ACOTAR at all atleast in my opinion, but that definitely is how Feysand feels in this book

I really hate it when male characters are described as having "hard muscles" it sounds so unpleasant. im saying this primarily as someone who likes to read about characters cuddling and prefers it when theyre soft for that, but even if we're just talking smut, does having sex with a "hard" guy sound pleasant to you? or, well. you know what i mean

!! NEW RHYS-OUTFIT DROPPED !! hes wearing wide thin pants (even though theyre sleeping in an ice cold broom closet) and a tight cotton shirt, both of unspecified color

Oh yeah, Rhysand is just sooooooo powerful you guys, he needs to constantly use his magic otherwise itll just take him over and turn him into the joker

'Everyone at his Court had a use, some kind of great ability. And here I was, a strange, unpredictable hybrid that was more trouble than it's worth.' girl you are literally fae jesus what the hell are you talking about

Maybe Im just in a bad mood but this part where Rhys n Feyre are telling each other about how they would tear the world apart if they were ever forcefully seperated is so deeply annoying to me

Im not gonna translate the shit Rhysand just said to Feyre, tldr he thinks shes hot and wants to fuck her but the room is too small for that woe is him, and ughhhh. Im struggling to explain this in a way that doesnt make me sound puritanical, but something about the horniness of their relationship makes it feel really gross to me, its not just the fact that this relationship is horny because I can very much enjoy a horny fictional relationship sometimes, but the horny relationships that I usually enjoy are like, warm and pleasant from the eroticism of it all, Feysand is just kinda gross and sticky to me

Feyre's negative self-talk in regards to her feelings for Rhysand and Tamlin feels so forced, like cmon man, you keep talking about how much Tamlin sucks ass and how much better Rhys is for you how are you still experiencing any kind of inner conflict about this

Also, Feyre talking about how she was constantly thinking about Rhysand even before she left the spring court is just, a lie. does SJM not expect her readers to remember anything

Now theyre spooning and Feyre is stroking his wings and Rhysand is humping her and its like, this isnt sexy to me this is just kinda weird

bro how come Ive never seen anyone talk about Rhysand being like "I love your boobs so much, oh, you dont even know how much I love them" thats so funny

The rest of this chapter was just Rhysand fingering Feyre and honestly, it wasnt too bad, with the extreme proximity and him warming her up I can see why some people would find it hot but idk. its still a sjm smut scene and its german which makes it pretty unpleasant for me

[violetasteracademic]

Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow: Chapter One (Ao3 Azriel x Elain FanFic)

Friends! I have been living, dreaming, breathing this Azriel and Elain fanfiction I've been writing. I've got about 5 chapters so far and 30k words solidly edited and so much more still to write. I've been patiently waiting for my Ao3 invite and finally have Chapter One up today!

There are notes on the chapter, but please be aware that while I would not categorize as dark romance there are some darker themes. All warnings and triggers are listed.

This is a canon text and timeline *inspired* piece and my interpretation of a story that could be blended with the time after Solstice, as well as the inclusion of some personal theories and also just plain fun possibilities. My Elain has earth fae powers (where did the CC earth fae come from? Why does no one from Prythian or Erilea have them?!) and carranam will be explored. I'll link to the full chapter on Ao3 at the bottom!

Prieview:

Elain

She hadn’t slept in a week. Not since Azriel had given her that beautiful necklace. It felt so personal, so intimate. Just a few nights before Solstice festivities began, she had teased him about whether or not he would be getting her a gift this year. His cheeks turned a shade of pink she hadn’t seen since the day she called his scarred hands beautiful. Hands he had used to clasp the necklace around her neck, sending shivers down each nob of her spine to the tips of her toes while his touch lingered on bared skin. The ghost of that touch still burned into her nape like a brand.

She had thought all of the glances and secret touches that passed between them had finally culminated to that moment. She could have sworn she heard his shadows whispering to her, letting her know what was in his heart. It was how she was always able to hear him when no one else could. How she could understand what he was thinking as he lingered in quiet corners, that hard mask set in stone on his face. She wanted to run her fingers over that mask. Kiss it softly until those hardened edges cracked beneath her lips and set him free.

His shadows spoke to her, and she watched the glimmer flash across his eyes when she’d silently send her own thoughts back into the darkness. Rhys and Feyre had their way of communicating when no one else could hear them. She and Azriel had theirs.

Why then had he turned away from her? His shadows were swarming, mirroring her whispered yes, yes, yes. She knew in her bones he had wanted to kiss her. Knew he wanted to do much more than that. She could feel the air between them crackling and pressurizing as he lowered his mouth to hers. She didn’t think he realized he had sent a slither of his shadows skittering over every inch of her as he slid his fingers through her hair and angled her head to receive him. Those shadows still held on to her after he had stopped, close enough to her lips that she could feel his labored breaths tickling her nose.

And then he was gone.

It was a mistake.

How could she have been so wrong? Maybe she truly had gone mad. Maybe she somehow lost herself again, unable to build that mental wall between the world in front of her eyes and the raging visions that plagued her mind. She had gotten better. Or she thought she had. And yet Azriel truly did not want her. When his shadows finally loosened their grip, it was as if they were the only thing keeping her standing. Her knees buckled and hit the floor. She gasped in pain. Her skin turned fiery and unbearable. She nearly ripped the necklace off. Nearly brought the element of her powers she kept hidden even from Azriel up from the ground to rip out every floorboard and shred her skin where he had touched her. Just so she had something to show for it. Blood and scrapes and scars to erase the feeling of his hands on her to replace them with something she could see with her eyes and not just her mind. To ensure she hadn’t imagined all of it.

Sometimes, when she felt herself getting lost again, she’d hold up her palms out in the garden. Call forth the thorn covered vines to wrap around her wrists and dig in just so she could keep track of where she was. The pain had become a comfort. The blood a reminder of the ground beneath her. Baking and cooking helped in the same way. She knew everyone thought less of her for not showing a warriors strength like her sisters, for not being more interesting. But menial tasks were often the only way she could manage to get through the day. Tasks that resulted in physical evidence of what she had been doing. Blood on her hands. Flour on her nose. The sweat from the sun or the heat from the oven. Proof that she hadn’t left herself again. Breathing, and breathing, and breathing through it all.

Azriel didn’t want her. She tossed and turned in the sheets, trying to will down the ache in her chest that pressed down with such intensity she had to keep a bucket next to the bed in case she became sick from it. He didn’t want her. She truly had gone mad thinking that he did.

The larks began chittering in the trees outside the window, alerting that dawn would be breaking soon. Resigned to the sleepless night, she pulled a plush lavender fleece lined robe Nuala and Cerridwen had gotten her for solstice (so similar to the fuzzy blankets she had picked up for them) and padded down the stairs. Moving around the world as quietly as the wraiths. It brought a certain kind of peace to stay in the background. It still brought a flush to her cheeks if someone asked her a question or called for her while her visions moved across her mind. She couldn’t always orient herself away from them quickly enough to avoid concerned looks. She was so tired of the wary eyes on her. Always waiting. Always worried. It was easier to stay hidden.

The kitchen was softly lit with faelight, just enough to start quietly gathering ingredients and kitchenwares to make scones. Snowflakes drifted over the garden, large and fluffy, clinging to the stripped buds of the winterberries harvested right before Solstice. It still took adjusting to be met with the sight of falling snow and simply enjoy the beauty of it. To bask in the safety and warmth of the townhouse and release the gut clenching anxiety that used to grip her on snowy days in the cottage. Wondering how many nights she and her sisters could make it through another winter with threadbare blankets and hardly enough food to survive. She shook her head, clearing memories. Azriel had helped her move on from that. And now she had to find the strength to move on from him. She would do it. She always did, even if no one ever truly saw how deep she had to dig to get out of bed and face each day with a smile.

I hope you fall for this story as much as I have. These two are so dreamy to write.

[star-gzr]

An Autumn Day

Part 1

AO3

Part 2

TW for blood.

Claws against my mind, scratching- no, knives, threatening to cut- no, needles, piercing, extracting-

“You need to focus.”

“I am focusing, Mithras,” she said. Alyona felt sweat beading at her brow as she added another layer to her mental shields.

Mithras winced as a curtain of hot, bright light cut off his mental probing. “Good, now hold it. Focus.”

“If you tell me to focus one more-”

She was cut off as Mithras sent a volley of strikes at her mental shields, crystalline arrows the same shade of blue as his eyes. The arrows bounced off the shield, their tips melted.

The daemati smirked. “Not bad.” He opened his eyes and took a deep breath.

Alyona relaxed as the presence retreated from her mind. She wiped the sweat from her forehead. “That hurt, Mithras! You prick.”

“It wouldn't hurt if you didn't let your shields slip,” he snickered. He ran his hands through the long blond hair at the top of his head, then scraped his knuckles against the shorn sides. He didn't even break a sweat, the bastard.

“I don't know why this isn't easier for me,” Alyona said. “Magic is so easy for my father, and for you. I should be better.”

Mithras clicked his tongue. “First of all, don't self-deprecate. It's not a good color on you. Second, shielding is different from casting. You're an excellent caster, you just need to-”

Helion had always made an effort to have dinner with his daughter. When she was a baby, he gave her every bottle. When she was sixteen and moody, he insisted on family dinners despite her protests. If he was called away to some random corner of Day to study a newfound, esoteric tome, he brought Alyona.

“Focus?” Alyona rolled her eyes.

So as much as she wanted to just curl up in bed, or maybe the bath, Alyona knew nothing short of utter disaster or a summons from the High Lord would get her out of dinner with her father.

The formal dining room in their house was hardly ever used unless Helion had company over. They mostly shared their meals at a small table for two in the kitchen. The open window by the table faced the setting sun, bathing the white stone walls in pinks and golds.

“How did your lesson with Mithras go today?” Helion asked.

Alyona shrugged. “He says I'm improving. But he still got past my shields.”

“Daemati are formidable opponents, and Mithras has more discipline than most other Fae I've taught. You shouldn't see being bested by him as a failure.”

Undisciplined, failure, weak-

Alyona pushed her bowl away. Dinner was a stir-fry; fresh vegetables, chicken and rice. She couldn't bring herself to choke it down.

Shield training with Mithras had always left her feeling... Frayed. Worn-out. Fever hot and uncomfortable in her own skin. Maybe it was the after-effects of having someone poke at your mind for hours.

“If not failure then what is it?” She snapped.

Her father hummed and refilled his wine glass. He didn't offer her any but placed the bottle on the table between them. “I’ve seen you knock over Mithras with a wind wall before. You can conjure beams of light that would permanently blind a human, and some faeries. You mastered winnowing with ease-”

“There was that one time, at the sea-”

“Oh, yes,” Helion laughed. “At least you knew how to swim. My point is, you've already accomplished so much. One stumbling block isn't the end of the world.”

Alyona reached for the bottle and poured herself a glass of wine. “Mithras does say I've gotten much better.”

Her father raised an eyebrow. “What else does Mithras say?”

“Father, please-”

“I'm only asking!”

“For the thousandth time!”

“Mithras is a good male, one of my top students, a daemati, and he's handsome!” Helion’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “I just want to know if there's anything else I should know.”

Alyona rolled her eyes. Yes, she and Mithras were close. They'd been good friends for years, and he helped her with magic when she had trouble understanding her father's lessons. Yes, she found him completely gorgeous but had gotten over the crush years ago. Mithras was only attracted to males, a fact that he didn't share with many. Alyona knew her father would be fine with it, and many in the Day Court were open-minded on the topic. But Mithras was very private, so Alyona would keep this secret for him.

“There's nothing you need to know. But I shall inform you the moment a strapping male sweeps me off my feet.”

Alyona often had strange dreams. Usually just walking through woods she didn't quite recognize, sometimes hunting or fishing. Occasionally there were others there, faces she couldn't quite make out. A flash of red hair, the scent of chestnut trees, a dog barking somewhere nearby. Strange, but nothing upsetting.

“A heads-up would be nice, thank you.”

Nothing like this.

She was on her knees, arms bound behind her back by two strong hands. Another set of hands held her by the hair, forcing her to watch the horrors in front of her.

Blood, so much blood, red staining wood floors and leather boots. Someone was screaming, probably her. The pain ripped through her chest like a gaping wound, like the killing blow had been to her own heart. She screamed until she tasted blood in her mouth. Hot blood crept towards her, soaking through her trousers-

Wait, trousers?

“Alyona!”

She woke with a gasp. The hands were still on her arms, no, her shoulders. Not holding her down but pulling her forward. Her father brought her into his arms.

“Shh, it's okay, ‘lyona. I've got you. It's okay,” he said softly. “It was just a bad dream.”

“No, not a dream. It felt so real, Papa.” Her voice cracked and she realized she was crying. The hot tears on her cheeks made her skin crawl.

“I know, sunshine. It's okay, I've got you,” Helion repeated the words over and over.

Alyona realized her father was shaking. “I'm sorry if I scared you. Was I screaming?” She was pretty sure of the answer to that, judging by the hoarseness of her voice.

“Just a little,” Helion joked. He laughed, voice wet. “It's alright. You're okay. I'll get you some new bedsheets and it'll all be a bad memory in the morning.”

“Huh?” Alyona leaned out of her father's embrace and looked down at the bed.

She'd scorched through the sheets. Ruined a pillow. Turned her favorite blanket to ash.

“Sometimes even the sun burns too brightly,” Helion's voice shook. “I'll be right back.”

Alyona couldn't get the image of the blood seeping across the floor, staining pants that she knew she didn't own. She still felt the pain in her chest, lesser now but still thrumming beneath her skin. And an unexplainable grief that raged through her like wildfire.

[katana-no-neko]

Call Me By My Name

ao3

Natsu laughed voraciously as he flew, twirling through the air while the wind gust around his scales, not paying any mind to his cousin shouting after him. Many of his fellow dragons were remaining in their den with the rumors of a fae in the area, but Natsu didn't really care. He'd never met a pureblooded fae before, but really, how scary could one be? He was way stronger than some hoity-toity faerie, and it's not like he was stupid enough to tell one his true name.

He soared past trees and through mountains, smiling the whole time before spotting a crystal clear lake down below and deciding to drop in for a swim. With a big splash, he landed, diving deep into the water and transforming to his human form as he came back up with another hearty laugh.

It didn't take much longer for him to feel a gaze upon his back. Spinning around, Natsu quickly spied a pair of round, brown eyes peeking out at him from behind a tree. The eyes widened and turned away, the owner realizing they'd been caught.

"Hey!" Natsu called, "Wait! I didn't mean to bother ya, come back! I promise I don't bite," he smiled a toothy grin as the eyes hesitantly peered back at him again. "At least not usually."

A gorgeous laugh rang out from the eyes' direction, and Natsu found himself wanting to hear it more. He made his way towards the shore, closer to his mysterious visitor. An 'eep' sounded out as he approached, and Natsu was suddenly very aware how naked he was. With a bashful flush, he dipped back in the water before he flashed this person any more than he already had. "Heh, sorry. Forgot I wasn't wearing clothes in this form. Not used to running into people while I'm out like this. I'll stay in the water!"

"I..." a voice started to say, and Natsu was eager to hear more of it. "I suppose that makes sense. Dragons probably don't often wear clothes."

Natsu grinned excitedly, finally hearing his new friend speak. "Yeah, I'm a dragon! I guess you saw me fly down, huh?"

The woman laughed again. "It would have been hard to miss..."

He chuckled. "'Spose so. Why don't you come out? It'd be easier to talk if you weren't behind the tree. Or don't," he added, sensing her hesitation to reveal herself. "You don't have to. So how are you? What're you doing all the way out here?"

"I'm a traveler..." she started. "I wander from place to place and this lake looked like a nice spot to rest for a while."

"Oh wow, I bet you've seen lots of cool stuff doing that! I've flown about everywhere near here but I never leave home for too long - always back before dark. Dad'd have my head if I disappeared like that," he laughed.

"Sounds like he really cares about you," the voice responded, almost a little sadly.

"Well sure, he's my dad! Doesn't yours?" Natsu cursed his lack of filter, sensing the woman tense. "I'm sorry, that was a bad question to ask. Sorry if you've got a shitty dad."

"Yeah, he's... Something all right." She let out a sigh. "But it's okay! I don't have to deal with him. Not anymore and with any luck, not ever again."

He smiled at the determination in her voice. "Yeah, screw him! Who needs that bastard!?"

She giggled. "You don't even know him!"

"Ah but if he's made someone as cool as you upset, he's gotta be a bastard." He grinned, hearing her laugh some more, the sound her quickly becoming his favorite. "Hey, I just realized we never introduced ourselves! I'm Na-"

"DON'T!" the woman shrieked, finally coming out from behind her tree, frantic in her cry.

"You're..." Natsu took in the sight of her as his eyes widened. The pretty brown eyes he'd already been watching, supple pink lips that had released those wonderful laughs, braided golden hair that reached near to the ground, and long, pointed ears poking past the strands. "a fae," he finished.

She nodded, ears twitching nervously. "Do not tell me your name."

Natsu cocked his head. "But why not? I wanna be your friend. I think you're really cool, I wanna keep hanging out."

The woman shook her head with a frown. "You know I'm a fae and you want to be friends!? Don't you know how dangerous we are!? Everyone avoids faeries for a reason - as soon as I learn your name, I have full, complete control over you!"

"You seem trustworthy! I'd trust you with my name," he grinned.

She shook her head again, "that's only because of my magic - of course it's going to make you THINK I'm trustworthy, we have that magic to trick and lure people in!"

Natsu scoffed. "Well you did a real good job of tricking and luring me, stopping me from telling you my name like you did before!"

"I refuse to steal control over a person like that. I don't want anyone to be chained to my will," she admitted, ears drooping.

Natsu smiled. "See, that's why I trust you! If you were really trying to control me, you'd have stolen my name and never thought twice about it." He watched her ears twitch with nerves again. "Besides, you would need my true name, wouldn't you?" The woman nodded a confirmation. "Dragons never go by our 'true' name, specifically so that fae won't learn them!"

The faerie looked thoughtful. "I suppose that makes sense..."

"Call me Natsu, then!" The woman held her breath, eyes widening with fear. "It's not my true name, I promise," he reassured, her body relaxing as she realized he was not, in fact, under her magic's control. "Now come on, let's be friends!"

She smiled as she let out a sigh of relief. "You're persistent, aren't you?"

He laughed. "Some might say it's my best quality!"

"Alright Natsu... I'll be your friend. You seem truly wonderful, and I'd love to spend more time with you," she admitted.

"Yay!" he shouted, leaping out of the water in excitement. Landing on the shore near his new friend, he took her hand and grinned. "This'll be so much fun!" He cocked his head as he noticed her gaze avert and her cheeks burn. "Ah!" he realized with a start. "Still naked, aren't I."

[marlinspirkhall]

do you have any spirk fic recommendations? i feel like im running out on ao3 :(((

Spirk Fic Recs for Anon

Here are all the k/s fics I have bookmarked, the most recent stuff are from the Terms Of Service zine 2023 and you should exclude the "recced by author" tag if you don't want to read any self-recs.

Completely forgot to include ratings information, but most of these are rated Mature and please check the tags in case there are any plot points/triggers I forgot to warn for.

I don't know what your taste is or what you have already read so these are going to be all over the place:

Killer Plants From Outer Space! by CowboyJimKirk lives rent free in my head, as does Side By Side by Herenya_Writes, but I've recced that fic before, so you should read their fae royalty au fic Of A Different Kind

Near Miss by The_Norsiest (Spirk SNW/Disco first meeting au, written back before SNW had been announced.)

Imzadi_Deanna is a great writer & you should peruse her ao3 to find something you like, but I'm recommending: The Warmth Of Cold Glass (merman!Jim AU), The Curvature Of Our Universe

What We Don't Say (Or: The Epic Wedding Of Jim And Spock) by museaway

Whump:

Nine Million Green Bottles (self rec)

Kashan by PlotWeaver

Tomorrow Never Comes (self rec) (Major Character Death)

Or maybe you don't want to read at all and you want to listen to podfics like Forty-Five Hours In Riverside (recorded by JammyToast), [fic] or Entering Orbit (LikeSharkTeeth), [fic] (author: museaway)

Spirk podfics recs (collection) (all)

You Don't Have To (Say Yes) (recorded by RSCreighton) (note: this podfic is 22 hours long) [fic] (author: LuminousBeings)

Secret link? A Crazy Little Thing Called Love, by VTSuion

• [first] Endless Spirk Fic Recs [next] •

[abysswalkersknight]

I've had quite a field day reading the fics created by serenescribe & admiraltdevanto. Honestly they were so good that it was just what I needed to inspire me to complete a piece that's been stuck in my head for weeks. Granted you could probably see where I got the inspiration from though if anyone's willing to give advice I'm all ears. Other then that I hope you all enjoy!

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

‘I don’t remember siring a child. Especially a human one!’

Silver knew it was only a dream.

Not only that, it was a dream of the past. Lilia’s past.

Of course within the span of 400 years anyone’s perspective of things is bound to change somewhat. But when General Vanrouge declares that he would never start a family, it made Silver begin to wonder about his life back in Briar Valley, about all the times his father would spontaneously travel for days on end, for weeks even. At first Silver had no qualms about it, his father was an adventurous spirit and it was only natural that he shouldn’t want to be bound in one place for too long, and besides. 

Lilia would always return in the end, always with a warm welcome that even rivals young Silver’s 

‘Have fun, Papa! I love you!’ Silver would say every time his father went off on another journey, with a smile that Lilia would say could easily open a purse. He didn’t mind that his father never said ‘I love you back’ as he’d always return the sentiment with other forms of affection, a tight hug here, a little nuzzle there, maybe a little kiss. Still the meaning was there, or so Silver thought until they were all thrown into this whirlwind of a dream. He was seeing destruction everywhere, all because of these Silver Owls, it chilled his bones and Silver shuddered at the thought of sharing a name with these. These. Unpleasant people. 

Eventually he learns of the potential fate his Lord’s parents were about to face. His fury was not as loud or obvious as Sebek’s though he thought, how could anyone think to do that to an expecting couple, even though they are the enemy, that poor egg, who he knew would grow up into a lonely existence, with no parents, only a potentially distance grandmother and fleeting mentor, Silver could only mourn the loss of all the happy times his lord could’ve had had these interlopers stayed their hand. And then there was his father, in this dream they managed to save the Princess in time and rescue her spouse but that wasn’t enough for the General they soon realise. No he wanted to destroy the humans who dared attempt to kill Princess Mallenoa whilst she protects only her precious egg. 

Killing the Dawn Knight wasn’t enough. Lilia had to make sure there was no one left to lead another attack.

What came next was a flurry of Bloodshed horror, gore, screams of the dying and the furious, and the blade of a general who’d cut down anyone who got in his way. Then it came as a devastating shock to Silver when those very same people began to mistake him for another, for the one called the “Dawn Knight” oh how they thought he was there to grant them salvation only for those hopes to to be sorely crushed by the onslaught of fae following behind him, the other humans were not aware of the death of their hero. By now Silver and the rest stood inside a ravaged nursery. A beautiful cradle lay shattered to bits among torn curtains.

And in the general’s hand hung a bundle of blankets with its wailing occupant inside. 

He hadn't dwelt on it much, for how could he when everything had been so utterly horrifying and fast. But now as he glimpses a wisp of a silver lock within the bundle, events of the past age become more adamantly clear he could only put two and two together, and the truth made his knees collapse painfully as a nauseating illness overtook him. In the distance Sebek was paralysed in fear at the sight of Lilia dangling the blankets in a death like grip, glaring at the screaming child as if it were a disgusting insect he would so love to crush. 

Its just a dream. Its just a dream. Its just a dream, Silver kept telling himself, almost like a desperate prayer. That this wasn’t really what his father truly desired, a life where he still had his loved ones, a life where Silver never existed, possibly smited by the fae before him, the one who Silver has devoted his whole being to. 

Did he really love me? He thinks as he and Sebek watch in horror as the general moves towards the window, almost in slow motion with the blood of Silver’s kin dripping from every angle. It was only by the interference of Baul and Sebek that Lilia stopped with just throwing the bundle out like it was nothing more than a rubbish bag, Silver didn’t hear what was said next. He didn’t need to.

Silver’s eyes met the general’s and as soon as the recognition in his eyes gleamed, Silver was out the door, tripping over bodies and pools of fresh blood, ignoring Sebek’s cries for him. He didn’t know where he was going, he just needed to get out of there, away from what was now reality, a nightmare that he’ll never wake up from. 

In the distance there was a faint drip, drip, drip, and he blacked out.

‘Silver.’ 

A hand was stroking through his pale strands, something slimy and wet entangled in them and cooling his scalp. Fear grips his heart, with a startled yelp he smacks the hand away and throws himself in whatever direction his panicked mind fancied, all of a sudden he landed hard on a rough surface and he soon realised that he had suddenly woken up in the near comforting presence of his room. ‘Silver’ a voice murmurs hesitantly. Sliver choked back a sob. 

No, he thought miserably, please not him. The once comforting gesture of Malleus’s hand rubbing his back soothingly only filled his already shattered heart with a deadly anguish, did Malleus know any of this? ‘It must have been horrible to witness’ the prince whispers ‘I must apologise Silver, I would have conjured something else had I known any of this would happen.’ Silver says nothing, he was too afraid to turn his head, to turn and face the creature that was once his prince and beloved guardian. But a clawed finger grabbed his chin and gently tilted his head so he was staring into the cold green gaze of Malleus’s overblot ‘Silver’ Malleus repeats ‘did you forget how to greet your prince?’ There was no bite in his tone, only a knowing sadness ‘d-did he-’ Silver gasps ‘he really tri-tried to-’ he couldn’t bear the thought of finishing that sentence, everything hurts, it hurts! He crumpled to the floor in broken wails similar to the infant he had just seen, the anguish was crippling. Silver knew he shouldn’t be bawling his eyes out and choking on trapped words in front of the “enemy” but what else was he to do? He was already in Malleus’s clutches, both figuratively and literally as the overblotted prince had taken to wordlessly manoeuvring Silver into his lap and holding him close like he had done when the boy was younger ‘I don’t know’ Malleus answers at last ‘I had never really questioned why Lilia would take in and care for the child of our enemy but now I wonder…’ Silver’s breath hitched as he felt the prince’s grip tighten, was this it? Was this where Malleus takes vengeance for his parents? Silver wouldn’t blame him if he so wished for it. But then the fae reaches down to his belt and relinquishes Silver’s magic pen from it’s holster ‘fear not Silver, for how could I ever blame a child for the sins of their parents’ he coos dipping the pen to tilt up his chin. Silver is suddenly hit with a wave of utter exhaustion ‘wh-what they did was unforgivable’ he whispered hoarsely ‘how could I ever just continue as your knight after learning of the carnage they have wrought.’ How could I hope to save you from this overblot now if my family had set the path for it. The magestone was cool to the touch against his skin, he was so exhausted he curled into its cold embrace in hopes that it would lull him back into sleep. But what will that do? A voice whispers in his ear, you’ll merely end up back to Father’s dream, to a place where you are not wanted, to the reality that you can’t bear to face. 

I don’t care, he thinks back, I’m already in pain, but if I don’t help Fa-Lilia and the others wake up, and save Malleus, then what's the point?

If it brings them any solace then I will disappear from their very lives if I have too. For who will mourn the loss of a boy who was nothing but a reminder of past tragedies. ‘Oh what on earth are you thinking about dear Silver?’ Malleus says suddenly, brushing away Silver’s bangs from his face ‘don’t ever think you are like them. Don’t ever think you are like the Dawn Knight.’ Silver shivers when blot drips onto his face ‘for you are not the knight of Dawn Silver, you are the knight of dreams. My knight of dreams.’ Malleus peers down at him, a strange, gentle smile on his lips ‘do not think you are free from what your lineage has done, you have devoted your loyalty to me, yes? Your servitude shall act as atonement,’

‘Y-yes my lord, but-’

‘As you have said before, what they did was unforgivable Silver, I’ll still never blame you but for such transgressions, you’ll never be done atoning for their crimes. You’ll always be mine.’

Malleus’s words stabbed Silver in the chest, if he were in his right mind he would have protested to some degree. Though all he felt at the moment was total numbness. He’s right, What better use have I? Surely after this Lilia would be glad to be rid of me.

‘Why Silver, you have gone all pale and lifeless, you have truly been abandoned, haven’t you.’ the prince remarks, watching as the colour begins to fade from the young boy’s eyes. He begins to see the signs of what he was hoping for.

‘You feel it don’t you, Silver? The pain of abandonment and betrayal.’

‘No, you're wrong!’ 

‘Denial will only hurt you further, let it out child.’ 

Silver wanted to scream. Images of that wailing infant, the general’s cold look of disgust, watching as he was all too ready to toss the bundle out like rubbish. ‘It was only a dream, created by you! Father does love me!’ Malleus lifted an eyebrow ‘does he love you?’ he says as if already knowing the answer. The words die in Silver’s throat, he thinks back to all the times he’s said ‘I love you’ to Lilia, but never had them reciprocated.

Does he love you?

Something wet dripped from his eyes, Silver held his hand out, only to stare in shock as little drops of ink pooled between his fingers ‘how in the-’ Malleus didn’t reply, merely lifting Silver’s magestone up where he could see.

Blot. lots and lots of blot. So much blot that there was hardly a speck of colour left in the stone as it seemed to overflow, trickling down the baton ‘do you see now? It is inevitable,’ the prince explains, wrapping his arms around Silver once more, ‘just give in, child, how else are you to serve me?’

‘I-I-I can’t! I won’t!’ Silver wails, fear taking hold as he thrashes in Malleus’s grip. He can’t overblot. Not now! NOT NOW! ‘What do you have to lose Silver? Your father? You just claimed that he didn’t want you, perhaps he never did.’ the prince pinches him by the cheeks, making sure that he was staring into his eyes ‘but now there is someone who does Silver, all you need is to let go. Give in to the darkness’ Silver felt his eyes growing heavier by the second, no… he thinks, please, no more, just let this all end. ‘It will child, just let go.’

‘Embrace the darkness.’ 

Somewhere in a wonderful dream, an old general wakes up.

@serenescribe

@admiraltdevanto