#yes they are reading in a velaris apartment

[mossytrashcan]

@nestaarcheronweek || Day 4: Lover

Go listen to Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift. She explained the domestic vibe I’m aiming for waaaay better than I ever will

[lidiasloca]

i’ve been dying for a fic about azriel meeting his mate who is just someone in velaris. and him being super private and secretive about it to the point that the ic is like what is wrong with you??? and then he finally tells them by bringing his mate to family dinner??

a private relationship with azriel

azriel x reader

fluff

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You had grown to know Azriel’s soul like the palm of your hand. There were no misinterpretations or confusions. It all lay clear and honest between you. He could hide no truth, and neither could you.

So it was no surprise that he kept you like he would an oath. It was his protective nature. And you had accepted that long before it showed, because you wanted him, just like he was.

Yes, being hidden behind his back from his loved ones drove the knife more into your flesh, but so it would to watch him suffer knowing your protection was at risk. So you kept it how he wanted, private.

At least that’s what you told yourself today, as he was about to leave for a family dinner, one you were of course not invited.

“Y/N?”

“What?” you blurted out, thinking how much lost you had been in your head.

“I’m - I’m leaving,” he said hesitantly, scared as always of how much could you bear the knife he kept twisting.

Knowing how he’d laugh and talk and have fun with his family, and you wouldn't be there, kept your mind in a dark place. You would never be there.

Maybe you hadn’t quite accepted being his secret, as you thought.

You had no heart for words; your tight nod was his final cue to leave silently.

Guilt filled your lungs when you let out a weak breath. It always felt like you had a wordless argument when he left. Like you shouted your pain and he yelled his reasons. But there was only silence.

But what was there to overthink about, now? He was gone, and you were at your apartment again alone.

Or so you thought.

“Y/N”

You turned in a heartbeat to Azriel’s voice.

What are you doing, you were going to ask, but your heart was faster. “You’re back…” you murmured in wonder.

He gave you a half smile, since most of his joy had settled in his eyes, which regarded you expectant.

“I am.”

You cocked your head, intrigued. You were used to the little use he gave to words, but that didn’t make you less curious about what was on his mind constantly.

“Why?”

And thanks to his eyes, you somehow could read his heart. Somehow you knew why he was back.

Nonetheless, you were too vulnerable to risk sparking your hopeful hypothesis.

He slowly walked to you, only stopping when your warm breath caressed his chin. He assessed every centimeter of your face. Knowing him, he was taking time to plan his words.

You inclined your face upward to watch his eyes, which let you look through his soul more than his words did.

“Come with me,” he whispered. “Let me present you to them.”

You breathe caught. No matter how many times you blinked, your disbelief didn’t wash out from your eyes. No matter if you had known this was why he was back, now that it was out of his lips, it was harder to believe.

“You really mean it?” you questioned, still confused; what had made him change his mind about his most solemn rule?

“Yes.”

A tear ran down your cheek before you realized you were crying. “Oh,” was all you could express, as Azriel gently wiped your tears, watching you in worry.

“You don’t want to?” he asked with a concerned frown.

You chuckled weakly, shaking your head. “No, it’s not that.”

“Then why are you crying, love?” His voice was so gentle and unsure, as if he was afraid his words were strong wind for the candle that was you.

“Because I thought you would never ask - I thought I was always going to be a secret,” you mumble in between sobs.

His lips parted at your blatant confession. “I’m so sorry,” he sighted, moving his hands to hold your face, looking deep into you. “I never wanted you to feel like you were a secret. I did it because I wanted you to be protected. The less people know, the less risk.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry still.” He looked down, biting his lip as he though. “Will you come, then?”

A sweetly-crafted smile bloomed in your flushed face as you moved your hands to his shoulders, as if you were to start dancing. “Of course, Az.”

“Good,” he smiled in return. “Because it would be a very boring dinner without you.”

You laughed at that. “Didn’t you told me they were very funny?” you asked with a risen eyebrow.

“They used to be, but now they only interrogate me.”

“What for?” you questioned as you grinned, feeling the excitement to meet his family grow.

“They think I’m in love. Feyre said she sees it in my eyes,” he said, rolling said eyes in sarcastic disdain.

You cocked your head, questioning him with a wordless remark. He understood and gived you a smart smirk, adding, “And she is right. I am in love.”

“Then I think it’s only fair you show her she was right all along, isn’t it?”

He suddenly took you in his arms like he always does before taking off flying. You bursted out laughing in excitement when he walked to the terrace. He really was taking you to the dinner.

“My mate is just so fair and kind…” he mocked with a gentle voice.

“She is. And she also is very funny,” you added, matching his cocky grin with one of your own.

“They will love you," he said, almost in wonder.

You blushed at the thought. You could not deny you were growing nervous.

“Good. Because I love you,” you murmured.

Your mate leaned in to peck your forehead. And as he took off flying, the nervousness dissipated, and your heart filled instead with the love you had for Azriel.

-Characters by Sarah J Maas

HEY! IF YOU LIKED THIS, YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY AZRIEL MASTERLIST HERE <3

and you can also request any fic idea you have through my inbox so i can write it down :)) i much appreciate requests for azriel and other acotar characters

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell (10)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, pining

a/n: As always, thank you so much for reading :) You guys have really been in it for the long haul with this fic and I adore you for it. My brain only lets me write it about once a month. I hope you love it and I love you!!! Please let me know what you think!!! ❤️

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

The syllables of your name echoed, bouncing off the stark chamber of your mind that was now sullied by a beautiful memory with no context. You’d grown used to the quietness, the emptiness—however temporary that was to be. The new memory chafed. 

Pressure remained constant along the back of your neck and you felt the awkward angle of your back as it rested against something sharp. Your body shifted. Another pained croak of your name vibrated in the air. 

“Please, please.” Azriel, you determined, his voice restrained and tight. “Not again. Please, not again. I thought—I thought it would’ve been okay. It didn’t seem—” 

He cut himself off, choking on the words and leaning down until you felt his face press into your shoulder. You wanted to open your eyes, but nothing made sense enough for you to do so. The memory of your laughter and joy lingered in your mind still, creating a dull ache that battled with the present. 

“You wouldn’t have had to find me. I never would have left your side.”

Azriel had said that. This Azriel—right? 

“I love you. I love you and I’m sorry, y/n,” you heard the words mumbled against your skin. “I’m so sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have pushed it. I knew—” 

Was this the same Azriel who avoided the threshold of your bedroom for days after your return to Velaris? The one that refused a simple lunch with you and struggled to look you in the eye? Was this the Azriel you had seen in that memory? 

He spoke as if he were—held you with a reverence that seemed to connect each and every discrepancy. 

You let out a shaky breath, fighting for full consciousness. When your eyes finally caught up with your brain, Azriel was there, hovering over you with damp cheeks and a harrowed expression. 

Last time—you thought, connecting dots as you blinked away the ache behind your eyes—you probably hadn’t woken up. Last time, Azriel had most likely approached this with much less delicacy and you had paid the price. Everyone said you were in too much pain to hear about your past. 

Last time, last time, last time. 

“Are you okay?” Azriel asked, his broken words a testament to your assumptions. 

But you weren’t thinking about last time anymore. 

Azriel was your mate.

You were Azriel’s mate. 

And he had said—

“You said you wouldn’t leave my side,” you whispered. You were clutching at his arms with a white-knuckle grip, the action barely registering in your mind. “You said—” 

“When, baby?” Azriel rushed, the endearment passing through his lips like a desperate prayer. His fingers made their way to your cheeks, brushing along your skin just as desperately. 

“When we were married. You said… the first time… you wouldn’t have left my side if I never remembered you.” 

Azriel’s expression widened. “When we were… Did you—” 

His breath came out in quick huffs. He blinked, as if to clear the image of you in his arms, and then moved to sit you up in his lap. His shadows were a mess alongside you, wrapping and twining into odd shapes as they sought to ease the tension on the balcony. 

When you were finally situated against him, your body still shaking with the events of the evening, Azriel licked his lips and spoke. “Did you remember something?” 

“Yes,” you whispered, your gaze fixated on your fingers as they rested in your lap. You observed your tremors with an unnecessary acuity. “I think so. We were… in bed. After our wedding, I think. You said we were mates, right?” 

You tilted your head up to catch his eye in a question, feeling no embarrassment at your question. Something had shifted after his admission. After your memory. 

You felt more empowered with just a taste of your life. 

“Are,” Azriel clarified. “We are mates. Now and always.” 

“You said something similar in my memory.” You turned back down to your fingers. “How long ago was that?” 

“If you remembered our wedding, that was 267 years ago. After we got you back from Day Court we had a ceremony—a public one. It was around a year after you were healed.” 

“267 is very specific.” 

“I could never forget the day I married you.” 

You locked your fingers together and squeezed your hands until it hurt. 

“Are you okay?” Azriel asked again. His tone was lower this time, almost scared. 

You furrowed your brows and released your fingers. The shaking had stopped. You hadn't tried to remove yourself from Azriel’s lap and he hadn’t commented on how you nestled into his chest as if it were your right. 

Because, apparently, it was your right to touch him in this way. You had been fighting that instinct for weeks, but right now you were confused and conflicted and although everything was becoming clear, it also felt as if your world was toppled once again. So you didn’t move from the one thing that made you feel sane. And Azriel did not move you.

“I think so,” you answered.

“Are you… angry with me?” 

The furrow of your brow deepened. “Should I be?” 

“Yes.” His answer was instantaneous. You turned your face up to inspect the guilt lacing his tone and found it in the clench of his jaw—in the wetness still evident in his waterline. “I have failed you, y/n. I have failed you twice and, this time, I have broken more than one promise.” 

“Azriel—” you began, ready to reassure something you had no understanding of, but the shadowsinger hung his head and refused to let you stumble through your words. 

“I do not deserve your forgiveness—not now. I told you I would stay beside you and then I ran in cowardice. I brought you to this,” he gestured with his shoulders. “To this confusion and isolation. I am supposed to be your mate, y/n. I know that doesn't mean much to you now, but it will. And you will be disgusted by me.” 

“Azriel, that can’t be true,” you argued. “I know this has been so hard and I don’t blame you for your actions. I was angry before—I am still angry—but not at your fear.” 

Azriel’s teeth came together even harder, grinding as his wings coiled tightly at his shoulders. He took a long breath and released it through his nose, frustration emanating from him in waves. But not towards you, you gathered, as he finally looked down to meet your gaze and his eyes softened to match the dried tears on his face. 

You wanted to reach up and soothe some of the torture written across his expression, but Azriel gave you a sad smile that stopped you in your tracks. 

He rested his hand on your cheek. “Always too good for me,” he whispered, a too-quiet preface to his next declaration. “I’m going to take you back to your room. Your body and mind must be exhausted. We can talk in the morning.” 

“But Azriel—” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured. “Tomorrow.” 

~~

You lasted about two hours in your room. 

Calling it “your” room was a bit of a stretch. You had confirmed your suspicions that something had been off about the space after learning of your mate. There was no way you lived in this room alone when you had a relationship like that. 

You began pacing after Azriel had left you at the door. He had placed a lingering hand on your shoulder and waited until you shut the door behind you to leave. So, still fraught with confusion and pent-up frustration and newfound hope, you started pacing. 

Azriel had told you to rest, a futile recommendation with so much battling within your mind. But above it all, you were thinking about him—about the memory and his words and him being your mate.

You had meant what you said on the balcony. You were still angry at the way everyone treated you like glass. There was still much that needed to be said and feelings that needed to be revealed, but you felt no ill will toward Azriel. Not in the way he expected you to. 

Still, part of you felt a sense of betrayal. The Azriel from your memory had seemed so devoted to you, so sure that he would stop at nothing to rectify any distance between the two of you. And you had seen glimpses of that Azriel in this strange state you were in now, but some of that was missing. 

You were having a hard time balancing his fear with his love, but more signs pointed towards love. 

Didn’t they? 

It didn’t help that you were contemplating this alone in an empty room, leaving tracks in the carpet and stringing your body so tight a soreness had begun creeping up your heels. You huffed and sat on the bed instead, biting your nails. 

Azriel was your mate. 

He loved you. 

You’d heard him say it multiple times now, in more ways than just the explicit words. 

Hadn’t you? 

“Our souls are linked—mates I mean.” 

“Fuck, I miss you.” 

“Yes, my love?”

“You’re okay, angel. You’re okay.” 

“Y/n, spending time with you—being around you—it’s as natural as breathing for me.”

“You are the one sure thing in my life.”

You rose from the bed abruptly, your body making a decision before your mind. You flung the door open to “your” bedroom and walked approximately six steps to the next room. You had assumed Azriel was staying close after spotting his shadows beneath the door a few weeks back, and there was no denying it now. 

You rapt your knuckles against the wood three times, his door flinging open before you could go for a fourth. 

The shadowsinger looked frazzled, his hair askew and his sweats haphazardly thrown on. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

You ignored the clear panic in his tone as you asked, “Do you love me?” 

“What?” 

Taking advantage of the confusion and shock rendering him vulnerable, you swept under Azriel’s arm on the door and stood your ground in his room. You crossed your arms and bit the inside of your cheek as Azriel robotically shut the door and turned around to face you. 

“I asked if you love me,” you repeated. “I only have one memory back and you say we’re mates. I… I’m inclined to believe that you do. I think I’ve heard you say it but only when you think I can’t hear you and—” 

“I do,” Azriel hurriedly replied, remaining rooted by the door. “I do love you. I love you so much that I haven’t been able to help myself in those moments. You have heard me say it. I’ve been saying it to your back for weeks.” 

Your chest heaved, emotion weighing it down. “Were you only staying away out of fear?” 

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed. “And it hurt—being around you. I was a fool.” 

Shadows swirled beneath your feet. 

“This is just hard for me. I don’t really understand where I fit in here. I have this memory of you saying one thing and then—” 

“I know. I’m so sorry, my love.” 

You blinked at the unabashed way he addressed you.

Azriel did not flinch. 

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you unleashed the question that had been plaguing you since you began pacing two hours ago. 

“Do you love me when I’m like this? Even now?” 

Azriel deflated, the panic extinguishing from his body and his expression falling. He took two long strides to meet you across the room, his hands hovering over your arms for a moment before he shook his head and touched you—perhaps despite his better judgment, his fear. 

“I will love you until the day I die, y/n. Even if you cast me aside. Even if you have no idea who I am.” He winced and shut his eyes, giving into instinct and pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you and it hurts. And I would take that pain to the grave if it meant I still had the privilege of belonging to you in some way.” 

You brushed your hands up to wrap your fingers around his wrists, your eyes open while his remained shut—like it pained him to even speak the words.

You wanted to say something back—a reassurance, a reciprocation, anything. But everything that would come out of your mouth would be a half-truth. You loved him, but did you? Did you really love him yet, or did you just love the way he spoke to you and how he made you feel? Did you know enough about him in the context of your life to love him? And if you couldn’t say it back right now would he—

“Hey,” Azriel’s slow tone brought you back to the present, his gaze now soft upon yours. “I can feel your panic. It’s okay, y/n. You don’t need to say anything.” 

Your lips parted. “You can feel it? Like my power?”

“Not quite. Do you trust me?” 

“Of course I do.” 

A familiar jolt invaded your ribs, making you gasp at its resurgence. You didn’t feel it often, but it was always jarring when it happened. And it always seemed to happen most when you were scared or hurt or in danger. Putting the pieces together now…

“That’s you?” you gaped, rubbing below your ribs. Azriel leaned back, giving you some space with a small smile on his lips. 

“It is. You can do it back if you know where to find it.” 

“Even with my magic blocked? Right now I can't even sense anything. Not like I could earlier.”

“Try,” Azriel encouraged with a small nod. 

And so you did, closing your eyes and searching within you for something to pull on—anything to grasp. There was a lot of empty space, some areas overflowing with the new memories you’d made, but in a far corner, dim and dull, was a glowing thread. 

You reached for it and yanked, the action sparking a more fluorescent gold. 

Azriel let out a small gasp. The beautiful flow of his laughter followed, a melody of relief and joy intertwined. Your mate stared back at you, his eyes crinkled at the corners and allowed his smile to overtake his face. 

“It has been so long since I’ve felt you. The bond has been there, but it hasn’t felt alive. It hasn’t felt like you.” 

You let out a small giggle at the ridiculous-sounding notion. “What has it felt like?” 

“I get your most heightened emotions, but they feel dull. They’ve been missing something.” 

“You feel my emotions?” you marveled, looking inward once more to inspect the link between you. “Why don’t I feel yours?” 

“I believe you have a few times,” Azriel admitted. His wings had begun to unfurl from their uncomfortable cinch at his back. “I’ve tried to keep them closed off during all of this. I didn’t want you trying to wade through someone else’s feelings when you were already confused.” 

“Could you…open them back up?” 

Azriel shot you a dubious look, knocking his head to the side before he passed you to sit on the side of the bed. “I don’t know, y/n. I’ve been… feeling a lot. I don’t want to put that on you.” 

“I’ve been feeling a lot,” you shot back, coming to stand in front of his bent knees. “And you’ve been taking all of it.” 

“I’m used to feeling you. I welcome it.” 

You crossed your arms and raised a brow. “Didn’t we discuss this? I want to get used to feeling you, Azriel. I want my life back, memories or not.”

Azriel let out a sigh, pressing his fingers together between his knees. He bowed his head for a moment before staring back up at you with a defeated expression. His wings lay bare and open along the bed behind him. “I’m not going to win this one, am I?” 

“Do you want to?” 

Another small, defeated chuckle from your mate, and then something came alive within you, that golden thread singing, finally living up to its full potential. You had to brace yourself at the full force of it, your hand landing on Azriel’s bicep as you stumbled. He placed a hand on your back and your eyes fluttered as you parsed through this new feeling. 

You felt him. 

His fear, anger, and frustration; he was filled with so much sadness and longing, and the pain lingering in undertones was dull yet overwhelming at the same time. Each emotion fought for dominance. But there was something else pulsing down the bond, something intentionally sent. 

Adoration, love, devotion—you weren’t sure what to label it but it undermined all else. 

You laughed in disbelief, bringing your free hand up to cover your mouth. You felt the warmness of your face as you went. This was indescribable. 

“How is it?” Azriel asked. His thumb was rubbing circles into your spine. “Too much?” 

“No,” you were quick to reply. “No, Az, this is—wow, you weren’t kidding when you described mating bonds to me.” 

“I’m glad you approve,” he teased. “Tell me if you want me to close it.” 

The thought of losing this connection seemed unreasonably terrible. You shook your head and pressed closer to your mate, slotting your body in between his legs. 

You remained in comfortable silence for several minutes, relishing in the bond tethering you to each other. Eventually, you migrated to lean against his thigh as you fiddled with the material of his shirt, and the position felt the same as the one on the balcony—like it was yours to take.

“I’m going to ask you something and you have every right to say no,” Azriel said, breaking the silence that had blanketed the room. You nodded for him to continue. “Would you stay with me tonight? In here?” 

“To sleep?” you asked, surprise evident in your raised voice. 

Azriel huffed out a laugh, lightly nudging his nose against your cheek. “To sleep,” he confirmed. “Just, with the bond open like this, I would feel better if you were near me. If you aren’t comfortable with that, I completely understand. I can—” 

“Yes.” 

[acourtofpenandpaper]

The Bat Boys react to your new set of lingerie (ACOTAR Imagine)

Tags: Acotar bat boys x Reader, spicy tension, 18+, imagine, reactions

Masterlist Masterlist Mobile

Rhysand:

"What did I do to deserve this wonderful sight in front of me?"

"I don't know, being the best High Lord that I ever had the pleasure to meet?" You ask cheekily, climbing onto his lap. Immediately, his hands meet the sides of your hips and squeeze your sensitive skin.

"That doesn't mean anything, given that you only met the High Lord of the Night Court", he pouts.

"It means something to me. Also, I am sure that no other High Lord is as good-looking like yourself", you say and caress his cheek with your thumb, resulting in a low rumble from his throat.

His eyes pierce through you as he takes in the delicate design of the night-blue bralette you are wearing.

Slowly, you reach down to his ear and whisper: "The panties have an opening...for fun activities. Want to try it out?"

In an instant, you feel him go hard under you but you have no time to assess his reaction. You squeak as he lifts you up and places you against the pillows of the large bed you share.

"You know my answer to this question", he says as he pulls his dress shirt over his head.

Cassian:

His eyes go wide as you enter your living room in the small apartment in Velaris and his smile goes even wider. Cassian sits upright and lets his gaze roam over your body.

Your body that was covered by as little fabric as possible. The no cup bra push up your tits fabulously. You had discovered this set while out shopping with Mor and you went back to the store to try it on alone.

So yeah, you enjoy Cassian obviously going feral about this new set because it cost you a half of week's work. But in the end, given his reaction, it was worth it.

"What do you say?" You croon and stop right in front of him.

Your question is entirely rhetorical because you are able to read his thoughts by just looking him in the eyes. They are painted by pure lust.

Without breaking eye contact with you, his hands find the zipper of his pants and he pulls them down, letting free his already hard cock.

"Down on your knees for me." He growls.

His wish is your command, you think as you lower your mouth on him.

Azriel:

"Don't look! It's a surprise!" You shout from the bathroom.

But who are you kidding, given that your boyfriend is a spymaster. His job is literally being not surprised by anthing. Ever.

Trying to clasp the bra, you smile to yourself. Calling Azriel your boyfriend still has a nice ring to it. And you are sure that you will never get tired of it.

"I am not looking, just laying down on the bed like you told me to. I swear." He calls from the other room.

Finally, you adjust the straps from the crimson bra with matching panties and smile to your mirror image. Somehow, you get nervous now and you don't really get why.

Azriel loved you, he has previously said so. No need to be nervous.

"Is everything okay?"

You take a deep breath and emerge from the bathroom, just to be met with Azriel's worried gaze. But seeing you standing in the doorway, his eyes immediately soften.

"Oh", he murmurs.

Your hands twitch to the delicate fabric of your panties. "Do you not like it?"

His eyes light up and he quickly shakes his head. "No, it's just when I saw the set in the bag before..."

"So you saw it before! I should have known!" You exclaim and he laughs in response, catching your hand and pulling you onto his lap. His hands graze your hips.

"Yes, I caught a glimpse of it earlier. You should find better hiding spots in the closet."

You give him a stern look but smile at the same time. It is all in good fun. He always catches your surprises.

"But if you would let me finish my sentence...I would have said that I saw it but my imagination could never have predicted how utterly beautiful you look in this."

And just like that, all your doubts vanish as he catches your mouth with his.

Let me know if you have requests for other reactions for the bat boys (or other Acotar and BG3 characters!). This was fun:)

[starlightandsouls]

Yours To Have, Yours to Break

Summary: What if instead of Nesta, Cassian found out about Azriel and his secret lover. What will happen when the hearty general, in his anger of being left out, causes his brother's happiness to fall apart? How will he atone for his mistake?

A/N: Of course I had to make my comeback with the angstiest angst to ever angst. And that too by turning my fluffiest fic into pure pain. I guess you can say that this this is a spin off of Yours to Keep and Cherish. Also... I know I dropped off the face of the earth but life happens guys. I'm sorta back and here's a fic to make up for it.

Disclaimer: If you're an Elain fan, I would recommend you not read this. I would hate to ruin your day. I do not hate Elain. This is just an idea I got from all the soap dramas I've been seeing recently. Don't kill me please.

Also this shit and not edited. But I was so desperate to post something that I honestly don't care. Hope y'all like it. And yes there will be a part 2

Cassian POV:

As the General of the Night Court’s armies, Cassian had many duties: training soldiers, commandeering battalions at the borders, coming up with war strategies, buying romance novels for his mate and her friends. He wasn’t sure when the last one made its way on his list of responsibilities, or who put it there, but there it was. And who was Cassian to deny his mate?

So that’s how the Lord of Bloodshed found himself standing aimlessly in the middle of the Rainbow, scratching his head, with a list in his hand. Nesta had sent him off to find the newest edition of a Sellyn Drake novel but he hadn’t the slightest idea where to find it. His mate had instructed him to visit a particular bookshop named “The Quill”, being sure that they would have the newest book. Unfortunately, because luck had named him its nemesis at birth, the bookshop was closed for the day. He had asked around and apparently the owner had just left an hour prior to his arrival. Of course, they had.

That is why he had been wandering around the Rainbow, walking into one bookshop after the other, but somehow not one of them had the book Nes wanted. What are the odds of that? How is it possible that only one bookshop in the entire city had this specific book? And why did it have to be closed today? Cassian knew returning empty handed would not only incur the wrath of his beloved mate, but also her Valkyrie sisters. And given the fact that he himself had been teaching them some new disarming techniques, he had no desire to become their training dummy.

While he did not intend on stopping his hunt, he was quite parched. As the summer season approached, afternoons in Velaris became increasingly sweltering. A chilled glass of wine would do just the trick to cool him down, and also relax his nerves. Just as he was deciding on which bar to stop at, he remembered a conversation he had had with Mor the other day. She had told him about a café she had discovered that served the best margaritas during lunch time. Honestly, she hadn’t stopped raving about it for almost a week. What the hell. He was already out in town, might as well try a new place. If it turned out to be good, he could bring Nesta to placate her in case he couldn’t find her book.

Mind made up, he took off to the air, the subtle breeze as he did so, instantly making him feel better. Gliding through the clouds, the twists and turns with wind, were always a guaranteed way of cooling down.

Said café was perched on a hill overlooking the Sidra. He took in the view and the lush gardens outside the café as he landed, and started to walk in. The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; the décor a blend of elegance and coziness. Oh yeah, he was definitely bringing Nesta here for a date.

He had just given his order to a waitress who looked way too giddy writing it down. Thank the Mother Nesta wasn’t here. Or someone might as well have lost a hand.

Although this is one of the reasons why he didn’t like coming to restaurants and bars alone. Not having company meant he didn’t have anyone to share his stories and jokes with. So, as he waited for his order to arrive, he sat back and took in the people around him; a habit that looked casual enough but was one instilled in him during his years training in the Illyrian camps.

He had been admiring the view from the balcony in the corner when his order arrived. Smiling a thank you, he took a sip from his margarita and damn was it good as Mor had said. He made a silent note to himself to thank her for the recommendation. He was in the middle of another deliciously cold sip, when something caught his eye in the corner of the room, causing him to choke.

What. The. Fuck.

Cassian was sure he looked like a blubbering fish with how his jaw dropped open and his eyes bulged out their sockets. He had to be dreaming or hallucinating from the heat. Yes, that must have been it, the heat had surely gotten to his head. For Cassian could think of no other explanation for the sight in front of him.

His brother, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court, torture extraordinaire, was sitting hand in hand with a beautiful young woman, smiling like a love-sick fool and… eating macarons? Since when did Azriel like deserts? Or the more pressing question: who the hell was he sitting with? Cassian knew his brother liked to keep his lovers secret, but deep down his gut told him this was no mere fling, or one-night stand. For starters, Azriel was smiling like a puppy drunk on love, while bringing the lady’s hand up to his lips to kiss. Cauldron. Just as Cassian had somewhat stopped gawking like a fish out of water, he saw the lady lean over and whisper something across the table, causing Azriel to throw his head back and let out a hearty laugh.

Although he couldn’t explain why, but at that moment Cassian felt a sharp hurt go through him. For he could not remember the last time Azriel had laughed like that with them. Damn it, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen Azriel nearly as much as was doing now at any family function.

Before he could even begin to process what had unfolded before him, he saw Azriel pay the bill for their food and the couple walked out hand in hand. Immediately Cassian was on his feet, ready to follow them. If someone had asked him why he did what he did at a later moment, he would not have been able to explain himself. At that moment, Cassian was driven only by curiosity and a minor note of hurt too-why had his brother hid this from them?

Rushing out after paying the bill, Cassian saw the happy couple walk down the cobblestone path, once again arm in arm, with the woman leaning against Azriel. Another thing that shocked Cassian: how the hell had Azriel not noticed him by now? Those pesky little shadows normally informed his brother of every detail of his surroundings; Azriel’s own heightened senses and observational skills were what made him the Spymaster of this court. So, for him to not notice Cassian so obviously trailing behind them at a distance, was a testament to how captivated his brother was by the woman on his arm.

At one-point Cassian thought that his brother would winnow with his partner and he would lose them, but the couple continued their stroll without a care in the world. He continued to trail behind them while also maintaining somewhat of a distance. Azriel may not be as hyper vigilant as always, but he wasn’t blind by any means- and Cassian was no small man either.

“Breakfast was delightful, darling. We should plan another afternoon here, what do you think?” he heard the woman comment.

“Of course, but I am oh so very tired. I think I need a few days alone at home with my nightingale to recharge,” Azriel replied with a smirk.

Cassian balked on the inside: okay Mr. I Don’t Need To Resort To Poetry.

“We could always have breakfast here again on Saturday. It is our two-year anniversary, and I intend on spending the day however my nightingale wishes. I think the café can be a brilliant start to our day,” Azriel offered, laughing as the woman swatted his arm at the previous comment.

Reaching the end of the path, Azriel grabbed the woman in his arms and winnowed away, leaving behind a thoroughly perplexed Cassian.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Cassian was convinced he must have stood there for another half an hour before coming to his senses. He then took off to the House of Wind, ready to face his mate and the Valkyries’ collective wrath. And his assumption had been right; the three women had blown up when they saw him return empty handed and had proceeded to go on twenty-minute-long rant. For the life of him, Cassian could not have repeated a single word they had said. Because he had not listened to a single word, at least not while paying attention. As their rage had quelled, Cassian had simple gotten up and walked to his room, ignoring the questioning looks from his mate.

While Nesta was still in the library with the girls, Cassian had retreated to bed. And that is where he was now: sitting in bed, staring at a wall, completely at a loss for words. He could not even begin to process what he had seen, let alone understand what he was feeling. For some reason he could not get over how openly Azriel had laughed with that woman, how alight his eyes had seemed. It was as if the Shadowsinger was glowing with happiness, as paradoxical as that sounds.

And it’s not like Cassian wasn’t happy for his brother-quite the contrary. He was just hurt that Azriel had chosen to hide something like this from him for two years. Two years. The words clanged around his head like the sharp tolling of a bell. Azriel had this from them for two goddamn years. And he had a sinking feeling that if he had not discovered the two of them today, he would not have found out for quite some more time.

But why? Keeping casual flings a secret was no big deal. They all had had ventures they didn’t tell anyone, he was sure of it. But if the couple were celebrating their two-year anniversary, then it must be serious. Cassian could tell his brother was committed just by how he had been looking at the woman. And if Azriel truly was serious about this woman, why would he hide it from them? His family?

That is the part that pierced his heart. Up until this day, Cassian had thought the two of them to be rather close. Sure, Rhys and Az clashed from time to time because of their own attitudes, but he liked to think that Azriel and him had always been close. Azriel was his best friend for Cauldron sake. Whenever he had had issues with Nesta at the beginning of their relationship-and he had plenty- Azriel had been his confidante, the one he went to for advice. His brother had been there for him at the highs and lows of his journey with Nesta.

So why hadn’t he let Cassian do that for him? Why had his brother chosen secrecy when he could have confided in Cassian? It’s not like he wouldn’t have supported them. He knew his brother was secretive and shy, but it was one thing to hide things about his work and another to choose to hide such a major part of his life from his brothers.

They were brothers, they were supposed to support each other, to stand by one another, not keep secrets and tell lies. All of a sudden Cassian saw the past two years in a different light. He recalled all the times Azriel had shown up to breakfast with an unusually cheery mood, all the times he had been rushing to leave family dinner, all the times he had skipped their get togethers with the strangest excuses. How long had this been going on? And for how long had they been so painfully oblivious?

Did Azriel not trust them? No, that can’t be it. Did Azriel think he could not open up to them? Each explanation he came up with seemed less plausible than the last. As he continued to spiral, Cassian began to question whether the two were as close as he thought them to be.

Why. Why. Why.

“You know if you stare at the wall any longer, you’re going to burn a hole into it.”

Nesta. He hadn’t even noticed when she had come into the room, and judging by her amused look, Cassian assumed she had been there for some time. Pushing off the wall she had been leaning against, Nesta walked over and sat by him on their bed.

“I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes, where’s your mind at?” Nesta asked while pushing some stray strands of hair behind his ear.

Shit. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just tell Nesta something he himself wasn’t supposed to know. If he hadn’t walked into that café by chance, Cassian would have been none the wiser about this whole situation. For whatever reason Azriel was keeping his relationship secret, he didn’t think it his place to reveal it.

“It’s nothing, Nes. Just thinking about Wind Haven. I’m supposed to head up there next week and I already know Devlon’s going to be a pain in the ass,” Cassian tried to divert.

“Since when have you started getting so worked up over Devlon? He’s going to whine and throw a fit, but ultimately he is going to have to do what you say. You’re worried about something else. What is it?” his ingenious mate inquired. How her intuition was so good he’d never know, honestly sometimes he thought of handing over the mantle of General to her, with how good she was.

“C’mon. You know you can tell me whatever is bothering you,” Nesta pushed while grabbing his hand in her own and damn did he melt at that.

“Alright. If I tell you, you cannot tell anyone else.”

Nesta sat up straighter at that, ears perked with curiosity, eyes wide open and eager.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Nesta answered while nodding.

“I’m serious about this Nes. You can’t tell anyone, not even Emerie or Gwyn. No one,” Cassian reiterated, trying to get his mate to understand how serious it was.

“Alright, alright. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

Cassian sighed before revealing what was very much not his secret to reveal,

“Azriel has a girlfriend.”

“Wait-what?”

“Az has a girlfriend,” Cassian repeated.

“No, I heard you the first time. But…how…when??? Why hasn’t he told anyone?”

“I have no idea, Nes,” Cassian replied while falling back against the headboard. He once again took to staring at the wall; confusion and hurt running rampant through him again, echoing the same question again and again.

Why had Azriel kept this a secret from them? From him?

“When did he tell you?” his mate inquired.

“He didn’t,” Cassian chuckled, “I stopped at that new café by the Sidra to get some drinks to cool down while I was out for your books. I saw them together there.”

A beat of silence passed between them before Nesta barged on with her questions,

“You seem…upset about all this?”

“I am. Not at the fact that he has a girlfriend, Cauldron no. It’s about time the idiot found someone. It’s just…why didn’t he tell us? Why keep it a secret?”

“Maybe…it’s new? You know Az. Maybe he just wants some time to figure things out himself before he tells you all,” Nesta reasoned.

Cassian let out a bitter laugh before spitting out,

“It is very much not new. The two were planning their two year anniversary at the same restaurant this weekend. Two goddamn years, Nes. He’s been lying to us for that long.”

He wrenched his hand from hers at that. Cassian knew he was being unfair and unreasonable, but he was angry. Maybe he had no right to be but one does not think clearly when in the clutches of fury.

As his previous confusion and hurt settled, they left behind only anger in their wake. That is what he felt right now. Anger. At Azriel, for lying to them all this time, for hiding something so significant. Did he not consider them brothers?

Before he could succumb to the ravages of anger, his darling mate was there to pull him back, as she always did.

“I can feel all that you know. Don’t let your anger override what you know to be true. This relationship of Azriel…it has nothing to do with us. We’re not entitled to anything regarding it just because we’re his family.”

“Oh so what I’m just supposed to ignore the fact that he’s been lying to us about his whereabouts and plans for the past two years, when he could have just told us?”

“No I am asking you to trust Azriel. You know your brother, Cass, probably more than anyone else. You know that he has a reason for everything he does and you know that he would never do anything to hurt his family intentionally. If nothing else, trust in that.”

Cassian sighed a defeated sigh. His mate was right, as she always was. For whatever reason Azriel had decided to keep this relationship a secret, Cassian would have to trust in it. And when the time came, he hoped his brother would feel comfortable revealing the truth himself.

……………………………………..................................................

Little did Cassian know, that despite the fact that he had made Nesta swear not to tell Azriel’s secret, he had unintentionally revealed it to a third. For outside their bedroom clutching books she had meant to return, stood Elain. Elain, who had almost torn the books with how hard she was clutching them. Elain, who’s hands quivered with rage.

This is why Azriel had been ignoring her. All these months she had been trying to get his attention and he had always slipped away. Because of this?? Some common girlfriend?

No matter. Elain would get him back. How could he ignore her for some commoner? Who deserved his love more than her?

As she walked away, already planning her schemes, a wicked thought went through her mind, a precaution in case she couldn’t convince Azriel:

If I can’t have him, no one can.

...............................................................................................

Azriel POV:

The past few days had been the happiest he had ever been. Although Azriel wasn’t quite sure how fair that judgement was. Each hour he spent with his nightingale, he deemed his happiest. And it has been two years of such blissful happiness. Two years together at each other’s side that they were celebrating today.

He had already arrived at the same café they had breakfast a few days ago and was now anxiously awaiting his beloved girlfriend. Honestly, he would have preferred that the two arrive together, not wanting to spend a minute away from his nightingale. But alas, not everything had to be as he wished. As soon as she had woken up, his nightingale had slipped out from his arms (something he had still not forgiven) and had rushed to her book shop. According to her, she had some urgent delivery that she just had to be there for. Therefore she had promised him that she would meet him directly at the café.

That left him, sitting in their favorite spot in the café, with his head swiveling to the door every time it opened, hoping his nightingale had arrived. It wasn’t like she was late, it’s just that he too early, wanting what he hoped would be a great start to a celebration filled day.

“Oh, Azriel!”

He heard his name be called, but his heart instantly dropped, that voice did not belong to his nightingale. Turning around he saw…

“Elain? What are you doing here?”

“What a coincidence, Az! I was just out for some errands and thought I would get myself a drink. I’m absolutely parched! Thank the Cauldron for this lovely café!” Elain replied in an unusually high pitched voice.

“Yes, how lovely…” he trailed off, gaze flicking to the door. He knew his girlfriend would be arriving soon and he would much rather Elain not be here for that… for a plethora of reasons.

“Well, what are the chances of meeting you here Az? And look, you’re alone too! Why don’t we have lunch together, it feels like we haven’t caught up in forever.”

“Actually I’m meeting some…”

He never got to finish his sentence. If someone asked him later what happened, Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to explain it. One second Elain was smiling at him, trying to grab his hand, the next her gaze turned cold, flicking to something behind him. The next thing he knew, within a matter of seconds, Elain had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and smashed her lips to his.

What. The. Fuck.

Azriel didn’t even process what had happened, didn’t even realize that she was kissing him. Elain. Was. Kissing. Him.

The last thought jolted him out of his state of shock and he pushed her away. Not caring for who saw or heard, he yelled,

“What the fuck Elain? You can’t just grab people like that! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh c’mon Az. It was barely a peck. I had barely begun to enjoy it,” Elain replied with a callous smirk.

All of a sudden he did not recognize her; he didn’t recognize the cruelty in her eyes, the indifference in her expression. Where was the kind hearted woman he considered a friend? And who was standing in front of him in her place? When he didn’t say anything, still riddled with shock, Elain continued,

“Well no matter. It may have been short but it achieved it’s purpose,” Elain replied slyly. She inched closer and grazed her hand up his arm and whispered, “if you want to continue, I would gladly indulge you, Azriel.”

He didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with her, why she was doing this, in a crowded café no less. But Azriel was way too uncomfortable to try to find out. He wrenched his arm away from her and was about to give her a piece of his mind when he saw it again: Elain’s gaze flickering to something behind him with a wicked smirk on her face. One of victory.

Hoping against hope it wasn’t what he feared it was, Azriel turned around. And it was like time itself had stopped. For there, at the entrance of the café, with tears streaming down her face, stood his girlfriend, his nightingale. A millennia could pass and Azriel would not forget the raw pain, the betrayal shining in her eyes amidst the tears.

No. No. No. No. No. This is not happening. This cannot be happening.

He took one step toward her, to explain, to make her understand he had no fault in what she had seen. But before he could, his nightingale turned around and left the café.

Not knowing what to do, Azriel followed after her to see her almost running away from him.

“Love! Please! Listen to me, its not what it looks like,” Azriel begged, anguish lacing every word.

“Oh please Azriel. Do you know how typical you sound right now?” He did, Cauldron he did. But she had to understand…

“Darling I would never hurt you like that. I don’t even know why she was there… or how… but you have to understand… she kissed me! I pulled away… I would never do that to you,” Azriel let out. He knew his fragmented thoughts probably didn’t make much sense. But panic and fear were making it difficult to come up with something cohesive.

“Really, Azriel? You don’t know what she was doing there?! For Cauldron sake, Azriel! I know you called her there. You know, if you wanted to break up with me, you should have done it yourself like a man. You didn’t have to use her for it!” his nightingale spat at him.

What? Break up with her? Break up with the one blessing the Mother had bestowed upon him? What the hell was she talking about?

“Love… I don’t…”

“You don’t what? Huh? Have any need for me anymore? Well you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way, please go enjoy your life with your darling Elain?” His girlfriend yelled, throwing out Elain’s name like it was poison.

Vaguely he sensed Elain coming up behind them. How did she catch up with them? His love spat out a wry laugh, before saying,

“Look, she’s here to get you Azriel. Go be with your love.”

Before he could refute it, Elain jumped in,

“Its okay, Azriel. I told her everything. She’s not in the way anymore. We can be together now!”

“Elain, have you lost your mind? What the hell are you doing? Why are you doing this? You-”

“Cut the act Azriel. Go. Enjoy your life.”

And with that his nightingale walked away for good, taking the shattered pieces of his heart and soul with her.

… … … … … … … … … … … …

Azriel stood in that spot like a blubbering fish for Cauldron knows how long. He was smarter than this. He was quicker than this. He knew that. But for some reason his mind felt addled, like it was submerged in some murky fog. He couldn’t think straight for some reason.

What the fuck had just happened? Did it truly happen? No, it had to be a nightmare. It had to be. He didn’t just lose the love of his life. He didn’t. He wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Azriel had almost convinced himself of his own delusion, when Elain’s rustling snapped him out of his daze. The woman had the gall to walk away after everything she just did. Not so fast. He grabbed her by the arm and yelled in her face, propriety and etiquette long forgotten,

“WHAT THE FUCK ELAIN? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?”

She wrenched her arm back and held her head up high when responding, as if she just had just committed some honorable deed,

“I did what I had to. You were never there Azriel. I always tried to talk to you… but you were never there. And to find out that it’s because of her! Some commoner! I couldn’t bear it. But she’s not here anymore, Azriel, we can be together!”

“What?! Are you hearing yourself Elain? I do no love you! Not like that, I never have-”

“BUT I LOVE YOU! WHY ISN’TTHAT ENOUGH!” Elain screamed back.

“You’re out of your mind. You… how did you even find out?”

“Cassian told me,” Elain replied calmly, her demeanor immediately changing. There was something seriously wrong with her.

But her words were what caused his world to stop spinning.

“What?”

“Cassian told me. He saw the two of you together the other day and told me that I would find you here today as well.”

His mind was reeling. Cassian knew too? How? He had been so careful with everything? How had it slipped past him so easily?

Elain patted his shoulder one last time before saying,

“We’re meant to be together, Azriel. I love you so much that I’ll ignore this commoner you were sullying yourself with. She might have left you. But I’m always here for you with open arms.”

And then Elain left, simply and quietly. As if she had not sentenced Azriel to a life without the one happiness he had salvaged for himself in this cruel world.

..........................................................................................

Cassian POV:

Cassian had been sharpening his blades in the training arena, waiting for the Valkyries to arrive, when he felt the wards shift. Someone had winnowed in. Before he could question who it was, he saw Azriel standing at the entrance.

Despite Nesta’s words, his immediate reaction at seeing his brother was one of annoyance. He doubted Azriel was here to confess so the continuing secrecy bothered him even now.

Any rant or anger that Cassian was planning on letting out, disappeared as he neared his brother. Azriel had tears streaming freely down his face, shoulders shaking from the sobs.

“How could you?”

Was all his brother let out. Cassian was at a complete loss for words. His brave stoic brother was falling apart before him and Cassian knew neither cause nor cure. His lion hearted brother who had bared five centuries of pain and trials and had never let out even a wince. And now… It seemed like something was tearing Azriel apart into shreds.

“Az, what’s wrong? I-

“How could you?” Azriel repeated, his sobs getting more and more violent. And each falling tear fell like acid on Cassian’s heart. All previous annoyance was replaced by an overwhelming urge to soothe and comfort.

“How could you? What did I ever do to you?” Azriel cried out again.

“Az… brother… I have no idea…”

“Oh don’t act stupid. Don’t act like you don’t know about my girlfriend!”

Oh. That is what this was about? Azriel knew that he knew? But why was he so upset about it? Cassian didn’t think him finding out warranted such a reaction-

“You knew and you send Elain there to ruin everything!”

What? Elain? What did she have anything to do with this?

“You ruined everything! My nightingale… she’s gone… she won’t even talk to me… She won’t look at me… And it’s all your fault!” Azriel let out in between hiccups of tears.

Cassian knew he had to intervene before Azriel spiraled into a full panic attack.

“Brother, calm down. Alright, yes I saw the two of you at the café, but I only told Nesta, I swear on it. I have no idea what you’re talking about, or what Elain has to do with anything.”

Azriel moved further away from him. The utter betrayal shining in his eyes made Cassian want to bury himself in the darkest corner of the world. He did not know what his fault was but he was ready to spend eternity atoning for it if it meant Azriel would no longer be in the pain he was so clearly in.

“DO NOT LIE TO ME!” Azriel roared, leaving Cassian stunned, “ You did this! You couldn’t bear it, could you? You couldn’t stand the fact that I was happy so you sent Elain to ruin everything. You always do this, you always have to take everything away from me!”

Before Cassian could ask for an explanation or beg for forgiveness for a crime he did not know, Azriel had winnowed away.

Alone, his mind was working on overdrive. What did Elain have to do with anything? Cassian was no fool. He had long been aware of the youngest Archeron sister’s affections for his brother. But he also knew his brother had never reciprocated those affections, had always seen Elain as nothing more than a friend.

How did she know about Azriel’s relationship? Nesta could not have told her. Despite how close the two sisters were, his mate had sworn to him and he knew Nesta enough to know that she did not go back on an oath. Had Elain somehow overheard them? And if she had, what could she possibly have done to cause Azriel so much pain?

So many questions were whirring through his head, not one of them had a coherent answer. But amidst the chaos, a singular thought rang the loudest, and it was one that pierced Cassian’s heart:

What have I done?

[hellodarling1357]

Tiny Toes: Part 4 - Cassian x Reader

Finally here with Part 4! I've been in an angsty mood so have struggled with writing anything fluffy but hopefully this works 🥰

Summary: Sleepovers + blanket forts + lots and lots of cuddles

Word Count: 3.3k

You can read the previous part here!

It had been two weeks since telling Ottie that you and Cassian were together, and she had been ecstatic from the news ever since. You were still easing your presence into her day-to-day life, although, given the amount of time you spent with her as her babysitter, it wasn’t much of an adjustment. 

Every morning the three of you would have breakfast together, either at your apartment, at Cassian’s house, or, when Cassian had the morning off, you would make your way into Velaris and spend the morning at a cafe followed by a walk through the park of along the river.

You also started joining Cassian at his family dinners and found yourself easily slipping into the group and becoming closer with the Inner Circle. Both Nyx and Ottie were overjoyed at your presence, excited by the prospect of having someone new to play with, especially after Ottie had talked you up so much which made Nyx also want to befriend you. It was like clockwork, the minute you set your fork down, two sets of hands would be pulling you towards the lounge room as they explained what you would be playing that evening. Eventually, the others would filter into the room, Elain happily taking your spot on the floor so you could rejoin Cassian on the couch and curl up against him.

An hour ticked by as Ottie and Nyx continued playing while the rest of you chatted away and shared a bottle or two of wine. Eventually the late night seemed to catch up to Ottie as she made her way over to where you and Cassian sat, reaching up her hands for him to lift her up and settle her on his lap. You smiled as you watched her fight to keep her eyes open then let out a laugh as her little legs stretched out to rest across your lap, leaving her sprawled over the two of you.

“Looks like someone’s ready for bed,” Rhys mused from Feyre’s side, smiling softly at the three of you as everyone took in the scene playing out. 

“I think so,” Cassian pushed some of Ottie’s hair away from her face, “what do you think, Otts? Ready to go home?” The room filled with laughter as Ottie violently shook her head whilst letting out a yawn.

“Come on, home time.” But Ottie, apparently not liking what her dad had to say, squirmed in his lap so that she was upright again and then quickly moved over to kneel in your lap, her arms coming up to wrap around you as she hid her face in the crook of your neck. You looked at Cassian, amusement filling your eyes as he let out a sigh. 

“She clearly has a new favourite.” Feyre laughed.

“Hmm, apparently she now thinks that if I say no, Y/N is going to say yes,” Cassian shot you a mock look of annoyance, “which isn’t helped by the fact that the two of you keep ganging up on me.”

“Aw, feeling a bit left out, Cassie?” Cassian chucks a cushion at Azriel in response to the taunt, shooting him with a glare that had the Shadowsinger grinning.

“You would be too. They have secrets- See, look at that, they’re whispering.” For at that very moment, Ottie had lifted her head away from your shoulder, leaning up to whisper in your ear, a hand cupped over her mouth to block out the others.

You looked up at the silence that filled the room to find everyone watching the two of you. With a smile you lean down to whisper into Ottie’s ear, making her look around the room before turning back to you with a definitive nod of her head.

Amusement coating your voice, your eyes meet Cassian’s as you announce, “Ottie says she doesn’t want to go home and that we’re staying here forever and ever.” Ottie nods again, giving you a pat on your back for a job well done.

You grin at Cassian as he lets out a groan, ignoring the snickering from the others, “Well, how about we go home now and then next time we can stay forever and ever?” He tries coaxing her away from where she’s hidden herself in the space between your neck and shoulder, one of his hands resting on your back as you shift against him with Ottie still in your arms.

She finally peeks up at him, looking like she’s seconds away from falling asleep against you as she fixes him with a calculating look. “Is Y/N coming with us?”

“Of course, sweetheart. If we leave now I’ll even have time to tuck you into bed before going home. Maybe even read you a bedtime story?” Cassian mouths a silent thank you at your intervention, knowing that with the mood Ottie is currently in, she’s not very likely to want to listen to him. 

However, it seems she doesn’t want to listen to you either, or she’s unhappy with what you said, as her lower lip pouts out and tears begin to fall down her face as she holds onto you even tighter.

“Ottie, what’s wrong?” Cassian quietly asks, rubbing a hand down her back. 

“Y/N- Y/N never stays,” she says between small sobs, hands balling up as they hold onto you. “She always goes home. I want her to stay.”

Oh

Well that had your heartbreaking in two.

You press a kiss to the top of her head, looking at Cassian with a questioning look. The two of you have a silent conversation before Cassian speaks up, “Well, how about Y/N has a sleepover tonight?”

You had been talking about when the best time was for you to start staying over for a few weeks now, it seemed, however, that Ottie wanted to get the ball rolling.

Almost immediately her sobs softened, and she quickly scrambled in your lap so that she could look at the two of you. “Okay,” then she was jumping off the couch, running around the room to give everyone a hug goodbye before racing out of the door.

Startled, you and Cassian blinked at each other before turning to look at the doorway she had just disappeared through.

“I think the two of you just got played,” Rhys laughed as he got out of his seat to give Cassian a pat on the back and you a hug goodbye. Before either of you could answer, Ottie was running back into the room, carrying all three of your coats. Honestly, you were surprised she managed to make it back given how they piled up above her face.

“Come on, it’s home time.” She impatiently repeated Cassian’s words from earlier.

“Alright, we’re coming, we’re coming,” 

You finished saying goodbye to everyone as Cassian knelt to help Ottie into her coat, doing up the buttons and pulling a wooly hat over her head to keep the cold out before wrapping a scarf around her neck. Then he was crossing the room to where you stood saying goodbye to Azriel. You let Cassian help you into your coat, smiling softly as he leans back to pull your hair out from where it was caught down your back.

“Ready to go?” 

“Yep,” you replied, eyes fluttering shut as Cassian places a soft kiss to your lips.

You frown slightly as you feel him tense up, noting how his eyes scrunched together in confusion. “Ottie,” he starts, turning around to face her from where she stood, basically jumping, in the doorway. “How did you reach our coats? They were hanging on the hook…”

Ottie fixes him with an unimpressed look, clearly not happy with the holdup when she has a sleepover with you to get to. With a roll of her eyes, holding more attitude than what should be allowed for a near-three-year-old, she says “like this.”

Her face contorts in concentration and then she’s flapping her little wings up and up and up. Your mouth falls open, Azriel and Rhys both let our surprised laughs, and Cassian… He is staring at his daughter in shock before racing over to tug her into his arms.

“Ottie… How- How long have you been doing that?”

“I don’t know, a few weeks. Now come on, we have to go.”

“Okay, okay,” He still seemed stunned, a slight panic washing over his features. “How did you learn to do that?”

“I just copied what you do.” Ottie, seemingly done with the conversation, grabbed her dad’s hand and tried to pull him out the door, waving for you to follow.

“Hang on a minute, princess,” Cassian knelt to face her, tucking some hair out of her impatient little face. “Why didn’t you tell me that you started… Ottie, you need to promise me that there will be no more flying by yourself, okay? You could get hurt –”

“But Daddy –”

“At least let me show you how to fly properly, okay? This weekend, the two of us can practice flying, how does that sound?”

Ottie cocked her head as she contemplated his offer before her face broke into a wide grin, all previous signs of sleepiness were long gone. “Okay, but only if Y/N is there too.”

Cassian scoops her into his arms, turning to face you and the rest of his family with a look of exhaustion.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got Y/N now, Cass. She’s going to be a handful, aren’t you Ottie?” Mor teased, swooping in to press a kiss to her cheek. “I’m going to head off now too, want me to winnow you all home?” You gracefully accepted her offer; as much as you loved the feeling of being in Cassian’s arms, the thought of him flying you and Ottie through the freezing winter night air was not something you were looking forward to.

*****

“Daddy?” Ottie drawled once the front door was shut behind you and Mor had disappeared. “Can we please have a hot chocolate?”

“Princess, it’s well past your bedtime. How about tomorrow?”

“But a hot chocolate now would be really nice. Y/N wants one too, don’t you, Y/N?” You squeezed Cassian’s hand, trying to hide your laugh at Ottie using you against him.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m pretty tired… How about we get ready for bed and then I’ll read you a bedtime story?” Ottie grinned up at you as though you were the best person in the world before turning on the spot and running down the hallway, yelling something about being a big girl and brushing her own teeth.

Cassian let out a long sigh as he pulled you tightly against him and buried his head in your hair, your arms eagerly coming up to wrap around him.

“You, my love, are cauldron sent,” You pulled back just enough to be able to reach up on your tiptoes and slant your lips over his. “I’m serious, if it was me saying no to hot chocolate, she would’ve cracked it. But one word from you and she’s running to get ready for bed. I think I might just have to keep you.”

“Hmm,” you murmured against his lips, “I don’t think I have any complaints if you do decide to keep me.”

“Well, isn’t the convenient.” Cassian’s voice was gravelly against your ear, his breath fanning across the sensitive skin of your neck. He caught your lips in another kiss, deepening it with a sweep of his tongue that had you pressing even closer against him. The pitter patter of footsteps had you reluctantly breaking apart, Cassian rolling his head back at the sudden interruption.

“Y/N? Can you please read to me now? I’ve done everything to get ready for bed.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Do you want to pick out a book? I’ll meet you upstairs in a minute.” She ran off with a grin. You turned to face Cassian, smiling at the sight of him watching Ottie climb the stairs, clad in her pyjamas and tightly holding onto her teddy bear, a soft smile gracing his features.

“She’s a pretty special kid,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Yeah, she is,” He bends down to softly kiss you, leaning his forehead against yours as he says, “She used her manners and everything. I think Feyre was right, you’re definitely her favourite…” His words awkwardly trailed off as if he had to suddenly stop himself from saying something that had been on the tip of his tongue. You gave him a questioning look but let it go when he grabbed your hand, with a quick clear of his throat he continued, “Well, we better get up there and read her that story, hey?”

*****

You and Cassian stumbled in the doorway of Ottie’s bedroom as you took in the sight before you. Ottie was in what looked like a nest of blankets and pillows spread out on the floor beside her still made bed.

“What…?”

“You can have my bed, Y/N. I don’t want you to sleep on the floor, you won’t be very comfortable.” The way she was looking up at you with so much excitement and unabashed joy had your heart clenching as you turned to Cassian, amusement lacing his features as he raised his eyebrows at you – this was your situation to navigate and clearly Ottie hadn't realised that you didn't plan on sleeping in her room.

“Oh, that’s very sweet of you, Ottie,” you pulled Cassian along with you as you sat down on her bed. “How about you come up here too. That way we’re all comfortable.” Without so much as a second of hesitation, Ottie was scrambling into her bed, settling herself between you and Cassian as she handed you the book she had picked out.

It was a tight fit but somehow the three of you managed to get into a comfortable position that accommodated for both Cassian and Ottie’s wings, as well as Cassian’s bulking frame. You were nestled into Cassian’s side, his arm and wing, wrapped around your shoulders to hold you to him. Ottie was on his lap, curled up against his chest as she faced you, watching with wide eyes as you read to her. Eventually, a soft snore filled the room making you turn to find Ottie fast asleep with her mouth open, drool soaking into Cassian’s shirt as he rubbed a hand up and down her back.

“She asleep?” He quietly asked, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze.

“Yeah, she is. Snores just like you.” You poked your tongue out at his offended expression before resting your head on his shoulder.

“Let’s stay here for a minute before we head to bed,” he mumbles, head leaning down to rest atop yours, “Don’t want to accidentally wake her.”

You murmur your agreement, feeling your eyes grow heavy as the warmth and comfort and love from the two people beside you help you drift into a peaceful sleep.

*****

Your back is aching, and you have no idea where you are. Blearily cracking your eyes open, you take in the soft light coming through the windows from the rising sun, lighting up the soft pinks of the bedroom you’re in. With a groan, you turn your head and come face-to-face with Cassian’s chest, slowly rising and falling with each breath, his arm wrapped tightly around you.

You’re in Ottie’s room. You clearly both dozed off after she fell asleep and had spent the rest of the night cuddled up on her small bed. It was definitely a sight you would be holding onto: a fully grown Illyrian male, sprawled across a small child’s bed wrapped up in a pink comforter covered in flowers. You might just ask Feyre if she could paint the scene for you, you knew she would at least get a laugh out of it.

Yet, the one thing missing from the scene was Ottie. You sat up, slowly wiggling out of Cassian’s grasp, not wanting to disturb him. You looked down at the pile of blankets Ottie had set up for herself, but there was no sign of her, or of the blankets and pillows she had dragged in. Standing up, you turned back to Cassian and pulled the blankets up around him before pressing a kiss to his cheek, just as he let out a loud snore that sent you into a fit of silent giggles. Quietly shutting the bedroom door behind you, you set off down the stairs in search for the young Illyrian, surely she hadn’t gotten too far?

You didn’t need to look for long. As soon as you entered the living room, a smile spread across your face at the throws that were draped across a huddle of chairs she seemed to have dragged in from the dining room. Kneeling in front of the small opening of Ottie’s blanket fort, you knocked on the floorboards before poking your head inside.

“Hello,” Ottie looks up from her picture book, her teddy bear sitting on her lap as she gives you a sleepy smile. “You’re up early. Can I join you?”

Ottie silently nodded, shifting over a bit to make more room. You smile as she pulls a blanket out and drapes it over your legs before readjusting herself to lean against your side. You sat in silence for a while, Ottie clutching her teddy to her chest as she looked through the pictures in her book while you sat beside her, letting your hands tangle through her curls, lost in thought.

Closing her book with a snap, Ottie turned to face you, before shifting so she could rest her head in your lap, teddy bear still clutched tightly in her hands.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” It had been a late night and was currently very early in the morning, so she was probably just tired, still, you wanted to check all the same.

“Daddy snores,” You laugh, nodding your head in agreement. “Really loudly.”

“Yes, he does, doesn’t here. He’s still up there snoring now.”

“No, he isn’t. And, no, he doesn’t,” Ottie sheepishly looked up at you, letting out a giggle as Cassian’s face appeared in the tent’s entrance. “Well, this is cozy.”

You laugh as Cassian sprawls out on the floor, the upper half of his body fitting inside the small space while his legs stick out of the gap in the blankets.

“Move over, Otts. Sharing is caring and all that.” The husk of his voice sending butterflies through you. “Woke up without my girls and couldn’t get back to sleep.” Ottie wiggled as she made room for Cassian to rest his head in your lap.

He blindly searched for your hand, bringing it up to his lips once he had hold of it before settling it on top of his chest, not once letting go. Then he was turning his head to face Ottie and planting a big kiss on her cheeks that had her letting out a shriek of laughter, “Stop it, Daddy. That tickles.”

You laughed as Cassian proceeded to smush his face against hers, the stubble prickling against her skin before wrapping his other arm around her and pulling her in closer against him. Soothingly rubbing your thumb across Cassian’s hand, you let the other one trail through Ottie’s hair, watching with amusement as they both drifted off to sleep in your lap.

Given the rare moment in which they were both still, and silent, you took the time to properly compare their features, marvelling at the many similarities they shared. You had to hold back a laugh when Cassian shifted slightly as he let out a snore, followed by the sound of Ottie’s, much quieter, snore.

Leaning against the back of the chair that helped prop up the blankets, you continued watching your two favourite people sleeping soundly in your lap, and couldn’t help but think this was something you wanted to get used to.

*****

Part 5

*****

PSA: Cassian was going to say “parent” – “You’re definitely her favourite parent” but caught himself because is it too soon?? What does he even think about it?? What would Y/N even think about it?? It just *almost* slipped out and sends him spiralling!

*****

Tag List: @mis-lil-red @sarawritestories @beardburnsupersoldiers @eve175 @blushingfawnsposts @turtleshavesoulmates @slytherinindisguise @sleepylunarwolf @starryhiraeth @tele86

Let me know if you wanted to be added!

[parkerslatte]

Strings That Bind Us | Part 1

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: she/her pronouns used. fluff and a smidge of angst.

Summary: Y/N owns a small bookstore in Velaris. When she struggles to take her stock in, a handsome stranger approaches her and offers her help. She accepts the help and Y/N insists on making him dinner for his help. Azriel originally denies this but he finds himself eventually saying yes for reasons he doesn’t understand quite yet.

A/N: I might write a part 2 if anyone wants it :)

ACOTAR Masterlist

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

•••

The boxes of new books were stacked on top of one another and Y/N stared up at it deciding internally how to tackle it. It was the middle of summer and Y/N was already sweating just from arranging her store all day. Now as she stood before the stacks of books she let out a sigh and rolled up her sleeves. The first box wasn’t too big and was easy to carry inside and place by the counter. Y/N had only moved one box and she was already beginning to sweat. 

The next few boxes were bigger and Y/N silently cursed. If the delivery had been on any other day it would have been fine, but the stock had decided to show up on the hottest day of the year. Y/N tried her best to manouver herself in a position where she could grip the box but every position she tried proved useless. It wasn’t as if the box was too heavy, it was only that it was an awkward size to carry. 

Y/N gave a small wave and smile to the crowds who walked past. She wanted to speak up and ask for help but everyone she looked at seemed to be having a nice day and she didn’t want to interrupt them. Y/N suffered in silence. And the heat. 

After awkwardly moving the second box into the store she let out a breath and fanned herself with her hands. It was too warm for the shirt and trousers she had decided to wear. Even if she could easily run up to her apartment situated above her store, she decided not to, not with the stacks of books sitting outside. 

The third box she moved into the store made a dent in the stacks but there was still plenty more to go. Y/N didn’t know why she had decided to double her order of books for the month, it seemed like a good decision at the time knowing that her stock wouldn’t sell out any time soon. But not after only moving a few boxes she regretted it immensely. 

“Do you need any help?” A voice asked from behind her as Y/N pushed the next box through the door. 

Y/N turned and faced the source of the voice and her breath was swept away from her. The stranger in front of her was handsome, handsome in the way she read about in books. Of course she knew who he was, nearly everyone in Velaris did. Standing before her was the High Lord’s very own shadowsinger. 

Y/N sagged against the box. “That would actually be really helpful.”

The shadowsinger, Azriel, stepped up to the box Y/N had started to push through the doorway and picked it up with ease. Y/N gaped. If only she had arms like his then maybe she could have done that. 

“Where do you want it?” he questioned. 

Y/N shook her head, bringing her attention from his arms to his eyes which wasn’t much better as they were a beautiful shade of hazel and seemed to glow in the lighting of her store. “Oh, just by the counter is fine.”

Y/N moved onto the next box and began to push it towards the entrance before Azriel swiftly picked it up and carried it into the store. Y/N followed him in. “You know if I had long arms like you, I would be able to do that too.”

“Sure,” he replied as he placed it down beside the counter with the rest of the boxes. 

He exited the store and didn’t return for a moment and Y/N guessed that he had disappeared. Even the brief thought sent a twinge of disappointment through her. However before she could dwell on it any further, Azriel came into the store once more carrying two boxes. 

Y/N folded her arms across her chest. “Okay, now you’re just showing off.”

Azriel placed them down beside the others and there was a hint of a smile on his face. It was barely visible but it was there. While he brought the last few boxes in, Y/N began to open them and began to make stacks of them alphabetically. From looking at how many books were in one box, she dreaded thinking of where she would put them all. Of course she had gaps in her shelves but there weren’t nearly enough for every book to go. 

“Do you need any more help?” Azriel asked as he lingered near the door, wings blocking out a lot of light. 

Y/N’s attention shifted from the books to Azriel and back to the books. “If you could help unbox everything it would help me a lot.”

Azriel gave her a nod before he stepped over to a box and began to open it and sacked the books as Y/N had been doing, even in alphabetical order. Y/N smiled before moving onto a box of her own. 

“Do you work here alone?” Azriel asked. 

“I do,” Y/N answered. “I’ve had this store for over one hundred years. It’s still going strong.”

“It seems well loved,” Azriel commented as he sorted through the books. 

“I take great pride in it,” Y/N said, taking a moment to glance around. Her store felt like home. “Do you read?”

“Not as much as I would like,” Azriel answered. 

“I suppose with your job, you find it hard to find a quiet time to relax and open a book,” Y/N said as she opened another box. 

Azriel only nodded as he continued to organise the books alphabetically, even going as far to slip the ones he had between the pile she had created. Y/N watched from the corner of her eye. If she had known that morning that the shadowsinger would be helping her organise books she wouldn’t have believed it.

“Do you read a lot?” Azriel asked. 

Y/N nodded enthusiastically. “I love to read! Anything and everything, it's partly the reason why I wanted to open this store. I wanted to share all the books I enjoy with people. Even if I might be a little biassed towards some of my favourites.”

“Is that why I have opened one box only filled with the same book?” Azriel asked, his tone holding a small hint of teasing. 

Y/N smiled. “That book is my favourite, about a million miles above any other I’ve read.”

“It’s special to you.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

“It is,” Y/N said, her gaze softening. “My mother and father always read that book to me while growing up, they always insisted that they read me different books but I always wanted that one. I still have the copy they read to me, the cover is nearly falling off and some of the pages are falling out but I refuse to replace it. The book is really the only thing I have left of my parents.” Y/N paused for a moment and turned to glance at Azriel. “I’m sorry, I have quite a habit of oversharing sometimes. I just start talking and don’t really stop. I apologise if I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay,” Azriel said softly. “How did they die?”

Y/N shrugged. “That’s the issue, I don’t really know. Originally I am from the Summer Court and my parents lived in a small cottage basically in isolation. There weren’t many others around. I visited them one day and found the whole cottage ransacked and they were nowhere to be seen, but there was blood everywhere, too much of it to know that they were alive. I came to Velaris not long after, my mother was originally from here.”

“I’m sorry,” Azriel said. 

Y/N shook her head. “You don’t need to apologise. And besides it was nearly two hundred years ago now, I try not to dwell on it too much. It happened and there was nothing I could have done but move on. I know my parents wouldn’t want me to sulk about it for my whole life. It was half the reason I opened this store, in their honour.”

“They would be proud of you,” Azriel said, looking at her. 

Y/N smiled. “I know they would.” She looked at the book scattered at her feet she she let out a sigh. “But they wouldn’t be proud of all of this mess though.”

Even with all of the categorised into alphabetical order, she knew that it was going to take her a long time to place them onto the shelves. It was already getting into the late afternoon and it was due to get dark soon. Y/N debated leaving it all to be a problem for the next day but she knew that she would keep putting it off if she left it any longer. 

“I can help put them on the shelves as well,” Azriel said. 

Y/N looked at him and shook her head. “I wouldn’t wish for you to do that. You’ve done so much for me already.”

“It wouldn’t be an issue,” Azriel said and moved towards a stack of books and picked them up. 

Y/N sighed, knowing that she wasn’t going to get him to leave anytime soon. “You can start in that corner over here, there’s a large gap in titles.” 

Azriel nodded before taking a pile of books in his arms and going to work in the corner Y/N had pointed to. Y/N stood and watched him. She wasn’t sure why the shadowsinger of the night court was helping her in her small bookstore. But as she watched as his brows furrowed in concentration as he read and sorted through the titles, she found herself smiling. 

Shadows swirled around Y/N’s feet as Azriel’s head turned to catch her eye. Once Y/N realised that she had been caught staring she quickly looked away to fuss over a stack of books on the opposite side of the store. However she turned away too fast. If she had waited only a second more she would have witnessed the small smile appear on Azriel’s face. 

***

“Thank you for your help,” Y/N said to Azriel as she placed the final few books on the shelves. It was dark outside now and the once bustling street was vacant and quiet. “I don’t know what I can do to repay you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Azriel said as he stood in the centre of the shop. 

“No,” Y/N said, turning to face him fully. “You’ve been here basically all day. You probably had things you wanted to do. The least I can do is make you dinner or something.”

“You really don’t need-”

“I insist,” Y/N said, folding her arms across her chest and stepped closer to Azriel. His shadows swirled around her feet again and Y/N felt the soft caresses on her ankles. “And don’t even argue with me because you won’t win.”

Y/N now stood directly in front of him and smiled up at him. Azriel looked down at her, fighting the urge to let the smile appear on his face. “Now, what do you want for dinner?”

“I don’t mind,” Azriel said, his voice unusually quiet. 

Y/N didn’t break eye contact as she slowly backed away from him. “Come on then, I only live upstairs.”

The stairs that granted Y/N access to her apartment were narrow and Azriel needed to tuck his wings in tight to even get up the stairs. Y/N quickly apologised to him as she quickened her pace to open the door at the top and let him into the spacious apartment. It wasn’t the largest apartment but it was open plan and granted Azriel the room to stretch his wings any way he wanted. 

“You can sit wherever you wish,” Y/N said. “Dinner hopefully won’t be too long. You’re not too hungry, are you? If you are I can just make something quickly but I did want to make you a nice mean because you have been really nice to me today and-”

“Y/N,” Azriel interrupted, a soft smile gracing his face and Y/N melted at the sight of it. “I’m okay with anything.”

“I do have my mother’s recipe for a soup that she used to make me all the time, it shouldn’t take too long.”

“It sounds perfect,” Azriel said, his smile widening the smallest amount. 

Y/N smiled back at him before swiftly turning to the kitchen area. She could feel Azriel’s gaze on her and her face heated up. Having the shadowsinger in her apartment was something she had never thought would happen, in fact the thought had never crossed her mind. She tried to ignore the feeling of Azriel’s gaze on her but she found it hard. As she prepared the ingredients she cast quick glances in the shadowsinger’s direction. 

He was now carefully inspecting her apartment and looking at the decoration. Upon first glance it looked quite cluttered but Azriel could tell that everything held a great significance. 

 It wasn’t too long later when Y/N served up the soup in two mismatched bowls. Azriel couldn’t fight back the smile at the childish pattern on his bowl. Y/N ‘s eyes glanced down at the bowl and a soft smile graced her features.

“I painted that bowl when I was a child,” she said. “There was originally a whole set of them but they have all broken over the years. That is the only one that is still intact.”

“It’s beautiful,” Azriel said, sparing one final glance at the pattern on the bowl before placing it down on the table to begin eating the soup. 

Y/N snorted. “You don’t need to be kind, I know it’s terrible.”

“But it means a lot to you,” Azriel said, his voice calm. “And that’s what makes it beautiful.”

“I suppose I have never thought of it that way,” Y/N said. “I’ve only ever thought of it as a silly painting I did in my childhood. But I guess it is beautiful in its own weird way.”

Azriel offered her a small smile before they both ate their soup in silence. It was comfortable. 

***

It was several days later when Azriel found himself walking down that familiar street. He wasn’t sure why he was outside when he had plenty of work to be doing but it was as if something called to him. Ever since he had spent the day with Y/N, he hadn’t been able to get her off of his mind. He had only spent a matter of hours with her but every small thing reminded him of her. When he saw Nesta’s stack of books, the titles were familiar as he remembered shelving them days ago. The drawing Nyx gave him when he visited, the childish art reminded him of Y/N’s bowl. Even while he slept he couldn’t seem to escape Y/N. She would appear in his dreams and Azriel found himself disappointed when he awoke to find her not with him. She was plaguing his mind. 

His pace slowed as he approached the familiar store. It was crowded and music seemed to flow from inside. Many left the store with wide smiles on their faces and carrying an assortment of bags. Azriel stood on the other side of the street and watched through the window, he could see Y/N behind the counter and he couldn’t help but smile. Her expression was calm as she greeted each customer that approached her. Despite the long line, no one seemed to be in a rush or angry. 

Azriel wanted to go in the store just to be close to Y/N again but he stopped himself from doing so and instead remained on the other side of the street. When Azriel was questioned where he was going, he didn’t know what to answer. Originally he didn’t think he would end up in front of Y/N’s store but as he walked through the city, his feet seemed to carry him there. 

The crowd in Y/N’s shop seemed to become emptier and emptier the longer Azriel lingered on the street. He had wanted to simply fly away and never think about Y/N again. But his body didn’t allow him to. It was as if he was stuck to the ground. 

Azriel’s gaze shifted to Y/N’s shop once again as he looked through the doorway. There were only a few customers in the store now. Y/N chatted with the customer in front of her, a wide smile on her face. It caused Azriel to smile. Not one of his forced smiles or a smile he did just because he felt like he needed to. It was a real, genuine smile. 

From inside the store, Y/N’s gaze shifted as if she felt someone looking at her. Her eyes met Azriel’s and her eyebrows furrowed before she brought her hand up and waved. Azriel froze as he was caught. He never had the intention of her spotting him across the street. Now as she smiled at him after handing over a bag of books to her final customer, Azriel swiftly turned on his heel and walked away from the store.

***

Y/N’s smile dropped as she watched Azriel walk away. Without thinking, she quickly raced out of the store and saw him already halfway down the street. She didn’t even lock her store before she took off down the street after him. If she was being completely honest with herself, she was hoping that the shadowsinger would show up at her store again. After cooking him dinner days ago, she had wanted to see him again. Each morning she had silently watched the door to her store hoping he would walk through. She felt guilty for her disappointment when it was just a regular customer. 

“Azriel!” Y/N yelled down the street. Many fae turned to look at her but she simply ignored them in her pursuit of the shadowsinger. 

Azriel must have heard her as he did slow his pace but didn’t stop completely. She increased her pace as she chased him down the busy street. As he turned a corner, she followed. There weren’t many others down this street and it was much quieter. 

“Azriel, slow down!” Y/N exclaimed, she was already growing tired. “I need to talk to you.”

Azriel’s pace faltered once again and it gave Y/N the opportunity to catch up. He was a few paces ahead of her and she reached out her hand and gently clasped his in hers. This made Azriel go still. 

“Finally, you stopped,” Y/N said, trying to catch her breath. “You know, you walk really fast?”

Azriel didn’t answer. He only looked at where Y/N clasped his hand in her’s. Y/N, however, didn’t notice how tense Azriel had become. 

“I was wondering if you were going to stop by anytime soon,” Y/N said. “The store has been so busy over the past few days and I’ve been working my ass off but it has been fun. Nearly all the books you shelved are gone now.” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as Azriel still continued to look at their joined hands. “What’s wrong?”

Azriel finally met Y/N’s eyes. He pulled his hand out of Y/N’s grip and folded his arms behind his back. “Nothing.”

Y/N looked at the way his body was still tense as she took a small step back. “I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner again? Or even just go for a drink?” 

Y/N’s heart was beating fast as she asked the question. She wasn’t sure where this confidence had come from but was grateful for it. 

Azriel looked at her hands where she nervously fiddled with her rings and he slowly nodded. Y/N let out a quiet sigh of relief. “Good, for a moment there I thought you would say no then I would have chased you down the street for nothing. So, which will it be? Dinner or a drink?”

“Why not both?” Azriel asked. 

Y/N smiled and the two began to walk to the main part of the city. It was still busy as they stopped by Y/N’s store for her to lock it up before continuing on their way to find a restaurant. The whole walk there, Azriel kept to himself, his hand locked behind his back. Y/N noticed the way he would flinch away as she accidentally brushed her arm with his. 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by touching you,” Y/N said. “I really wasn’t thinking. I just tried to make you stop.”

Azriel looked down at her, she was fiddling with her rings once more. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t?” Y/N said.

Azriel shook his head. “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Me?” Y/N questioned. “Why would I be uncomfortable?”

Azriel swallowed as he brought his hands from where they were clasped behind his back to his front. He flexed his fingers as Y/N watched. 

“My scars,” Azriel said. “I thought they would make you uncomfortable.”

Y/N stopped in her tracks and furrowed her eyebrows. “Of course they wouldn’t make me uncomfortable.” Azriel slowly turned to her. “And I’m sorry if I did anything to make you feel that way.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Azriel said. “Please don’t apologise.”

Y/N looked at Azriel and noticed the hesitation in his eyes as he stared down at his hands. She followed his gaze before slowly clasping his hands in hers. Azriel tensed for a brief moment before he relaxed. 

“There is nothing about you that would make me uncomfortable,” Y/N said, giving his hands a gentle squeeze.

“You barely know me,” Azriel said, his voice quiet.

“I know,” Y/N said. “That is true. But I do want to get to know you more if you’ll allow me. This sounds stupid but I was hoping that you would come to my store again. I’ve been keeping an eye on the door hoping that you would walk in.”

Azriel smiled. “It doesn’t sound stupid at all. What does sound stupid is everything reminding me of a certain female and me thinking about her so much that it got to the point where I had to linger outside her shop for over an hour.”

Y/N laughed and clutched onto Azriel’s hands tighter. “Stalker,” she teased.

“I wanted to come in,” Azriel said frantically. “You were just busy and I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me.”

“Obviously I would want to see you,” Y/N said as she threaded their fingers together. She felt Azriel relax even more from her touch. “There's…just something about you that I am drawn to. And I’ll be happy to find out what that is.”

Azriel smiled as Y/N began to drag him down the street, their hands linked together. 

[jeannineee]

Umbra et Ventus

Azriel x Reader

a/n: so I recently wrote a little thing called ‘Devotion,’ and I loved it so much that I wanted to make a mini-fic somewhat based on it.

So, reader is half-fae, from the Continent. She was enslaved during her time there, but managed to escape (we’ll learn how eventually 😉). She’s currently a refugee in Velaris, working alongside Madja as a healer. This fic is a bit of a slowburn, so bear with me.

Also, requests are open for headcanons, and short blurbs/drabbles, but I will be prioritizing this fic!! Love you guys!

PART TWO

warnings: canon-typical themes, allusions to PTSD. Emetophobia warning also at the beginning!!

Sweat dribbled down your face, coated your palms as you hugged the rim of the toilet. Your body shook with the force it took to hurl the contents of your stomach. You stayed there, heaving, for what felt like hours.

Your exhaustion became so rampant that you couldn’t even drag yourself to bed. You laid on the bathroom floor, sighing in relief as the cold tiles embraced your clammy skin.

As sleep beckoned you once again, you prayed that you might be free of nightmares, this time.

~~~~~~~~~

The sound of banging on your door roused you from your short-lived sleep. You pulled yourself off of the floor, hurriedly readying yourself for the day, before answering to a very obviously annoyed Madja.

“You were supposed to be at the infirmary an hour ago,” Madja said by way of greeting, before shoving her way into your tiny apartment, heading straight into your kitchen.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, voice hoarse. “I’ll be on time tomorrow.”

Madja gave you a once-over, before returning her attention to the tea she was already preparing. “I’ll bring you a different tea tonight, to help with the sleep. And the nightmares.”

You blinked. How could she know?

As though she could read your mind, Madja said, “There are dark circles around your eyes, and you’re the most tired female I’ve ever met.” She poured the grey-ish tea into a mug, passing it to you. “How long have you been having the nightmares?”

You sipped the tea, grimacing slightly at the leafy taste. “I can’t recall a time I didn’t have them,” you replied, hating the truth to the statement. “But they’ve been worse since…”

“Since you escaped,” Madja finished your sentence, matter-of-fact.

Madja was one of the first people you came across, when your ship docked in Velaris. She, alongside countless other healers, examined every single refugee that sought haven in the Court of Dreams. You weren’t sure why, but before she’d even cleared you to leave, she offered you a position at the Infirmary. For the last six weeks, you’d spent your days training under her.

You cleared your throat, finally confirming her words. “Yes. They’ve worsened since I escaped.”

Madja nodded. “As I said, the tea I’ll bring you tonight should help. Though you may need to consider other methods.”

“Such as?”

“Talking about your experiences.”

You shook your head, setting the tea aside. “I don’t see how talking about—“

“Y/n, you know as well as I do, healing the mental wounds that a traumatic experience leaves is just as important as healing the physical wounds.”

When you didn’t argue, Madja continued, “You’ve been in Velaris for well over a month, and the only people you’ve spoken to besides me are the other trainees at the Infirmary, and even then, communication is minimal.

“You’re beautiful. You’re young. You need to make friends; create a support system. In fact, I have a friend that holds classes for painting. She’d love to have you. Perhaps you’ll find a friend there.”

“I’m terrible at painting,” you muttered, sipping at your tea.

Madja gave you a look that said it wasn’t up for debate. “You’re attending that class,” she said, walking away long enough to find parchment and a pen. She jotted down what looked to be an address, before passing it to you. “Take today off. The class starts in an hour. She’ll have all the supplies you need.”

~~~~~~~~~

Rain pelted your umbrella as you made your way through the artist’s quarter. People milled about, admiring paintings and pottery and sculptures through glass windows.

As you stood outside of the studio Madja sent you to, you debated going home. As if in response, thunder boomed overhead. Deciding that you didn’t want the Mother to strike you down, you closed your umbrella, holding your breath as you entered.

Oh. This wasn’t so bad.

The studio was small, and cozy. Paint-splattered easels lined the room, in three rows of five. Much to your dismay, the only open easel was at the front of the room.

Directly across from the instructor.

You silently made your way to the front of the room, taking your seat.

“Hello,” the instructor said to you, smiling gently. “I’m Feyre.”

“Y/n,” you replied, returning her smile.

“We were just getting started. We’re working on the basics, today: color theory, textures, value, perception.”

You politely nodded along like you understood, grabbing the same brushes as she did. Within a couple of hours, you had a piss-poor excuse of a mountain range painted. You didn’t dare look at anyone else’s.

As everyone began filing out of the studio, your mind swam with the words ‘I told you so.’ You were almost excited to say those same words to Madja, until Feyre tapped your shoulder.

“Good work today, y/n.”

“Thank you.”

Feyre smiled warmly. “I was told by Madja that you’re new to Velaris?”

Of course Madja told her.

“I am.” Your tone was a bit short, but Feyre didn’t seem at all fazed.

“Well, I would love to show you around, sometime. There’s this really good restaurant down by the Sidra that my friends and I go to often. A few of us are going there this evening, actually, if you want to join?”

No, immediately rang through your mind, but your mouth betrayed you.

“Sure. That sounds nice.”

Feyre grinned, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate it.

~~~~~~~~~

When Feyre had mentioned a “few” friends, you’d been expecting two, maybe three.

You certainly weren’t expecting two abnormally tall Illyrians, a short female who personified the saying “If looks could kill,” a bubbly blonde female who introduced herself as Mor, and Feyre’s mate—the High Lord of the Night Court.

Somehow, in her infinite wisdom, Madja had conveniently forgotten to mention that the woman instructing your painting classes was High Lady.

“So, y/n,” Rhysand drawled, hand interlocked with Feyre’s, “Feyre says you’re a rather skilled painter.”

“Feyre is being generous,” you replied, sipping your wine.

Feyre rolled her eyes. “You might not see it, y/n, but you have a lot of potential.”

“And that, at least, puts you a step above Cassian,” Mor cut in, shooting you a wink.

“A newborn would have better painting skills than Cassian,” the short one—Amren, added.

Cassian, the larger of the two Illyrians, placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “Rude,” he said, before turning his attention to you. “You came from the Continent?”

You nodded. “From Vallahan.”

“What did you do there?”

Rhys shot Cassian a subtle warning look, but you still noticed it. You gave Cassian a pained smile. Might as well rip the bandage off.

“I was enslaved.”

All of their eyes were on you, and you silently cursed yourself, praying that you would simply sink into your cushioned chair and never return.

Even the male with the shadows—Azriel—showed a hint of surprise at your reveal. Cassian looked just as embarrassed as you, and the look Rhys was giving him now would’ve sent lesser males running.

Fortunately, Mor cut in. “I’m glad you’re here now. Madja says you’re one of her best students, and we could always use more healers, especially with the influx of refugees Velaris has been receiving.”

You cleared your throat, taking a long sip of your wine. “Madja has been an excellent teacher.”

“Madja also says you have…abilities?” Amren asked, studying you like a predator does its prey.

What didn’t Madja tell them?

“I do. But it’s…dormant. I haven’t been able to access my magic since I was a child,” you explained, suddenly feeling exposed under Amren’s gaze.

“I can smell it on you,” Amren said, her silver eyes raking over you. “There’s power in your blood, girl.”

Your eyes met Amren’s then, part of you recoiling, another part of you curious. Power?

Rhysand cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for my families’ invasiveness, y/n. It seems they have no manners.”

You smiled, though it didn’t quite meet your eyes. “It’s alright. I expected a lot of questions.”

“They did the same to me, if it makes you feel any better,” Feyre said.

It didn’t, but at least the rest of the dinner went by rather smoothly. Rhys paid the bill, offering another apology before leaving alongside Mor, Cassian, and Azriel.

“I hope we didn’t offend you with all of the questions,” Feyre told you as she walked you back to your apartment.

“You didn’t. I’m just not used to it. Honestly, I haven’t spent much time around people since I arrived,” you said, before adding with a nervous laugh, “That’s a bit embarrassing to admit.”

Feyre shook her head. “I’ve been there. Nothing embarrassing about it,” she said, glancing up at the starry sky. “I hope you know that we’re friends now.”

You arched a brow. “After one dinner?”

Feyre laughed. “Absolutely. Someone has to help me deal with my family. And you need someone to teach you how to paint something better than blobs.”

You joined in on her laughter. “I knew you were just being overly-nice about my painting!”

The laughter died down as the two of you stood on your front porch. Feyre smiled. “If you want to, we’re going out to Rita’s, tomorrow night. Just drinks and dancing.”

“I don’t have a dress.”

Feyre’s smile turned into a grin. “Good. We’ll go shopping in the morning.” She pulled you in for a hug before you had time to react. “I’ll be here at ten,” was all Feyre said before winnowing away.

~~~~~~

You settled into bed for the night after finishing the new tea Madja had dropped off. It tasted almost as bad as the one you drank that morning.

You thought of what Amren had said at dinner.

There’s power in your blood.

What did she mean?

And then you thought of the unrealistically attractive males—Azriel and Cassian. Azriel had barely said a word. Odd. Perhaps you’d be able to speak to him tomorrow night.

[fr0stf4ll]

Forge of Starlight - Part 8

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 4k

warning; fight, mention of death, mention of blood.

notes; hope that you enjoy the chapter ... <3

here is the link for part 7 or part 9

---

The night had never felt so cold, so empty. As you and Azriel tore through the streets of Velaris, the city that once felt like a haven now loomed around you with an unfamiliar menace. Every shadow seemed deeper, every corner more treacherous as you sprinted toward the House of Wind, where you knew Rhysand and the others would be. The pendant and the blood-stained letter were clenched in your hand, the weight of them pulling you down like anchors.

The wind whipped through your hair, but you barely noticed it, your mind consumed with the image of Stellan’s lifeless body and the terrifying absence of Alex. The boy you had promised to protect, the one who had become a part of your heart, was out there somewhere—alone, scared, or worse. You couldn’t let your mind go there, couldn’t let yourself think of what they might be doing to him.

Beside you, Azriel’s face was set in stone, his wings beating powerfully as he flew, his grip on you tight as he carried you through the air. His shadows were darker than ever, swirling around him in a violent storm, mirroring the rage and fear that you knew was building inside him. You hadn’t exchanged many words since leaving the apartment—there was nothing to say, not until you could find Alex and bring him back.

When you reached the House of Wind, you barely had time to register the shocked expressions on the faces of the others as you burst through the doors, Azriel’s shadows flickering like dark flames around you.

Rhysand was the first to approach, his eyes narrowing as he took in your appearance, the blood-stained letter, the wild fear in your eyes. “What happened?”

You could barely find your voice, but when you did, it came out broken, trembling with the weight of what you had just witnessed. “They’ve taken Alex. They killed Stellan… they took him.”

Cassian was on his feet in an instant, his expression darkening with fury. “Who? Who took him?”

Azriel stepped forward, his voice low and filled with a deadly calm. “The same people who sent the letter. They left this behind.” He handed the blood-stained letter to Rhysand, who took it with a grim expression.

Mor moved closer to you, her hand resting gently on your shoulder, but you could see the tension in her eyes, the way her fingers trembled just slightly. “We’ll find him, Y/N. I promise you, we’ll find him.”

Rhysand’s eyes darkened as he read the letter, his grip tightening on the parchment. “They want you to complete the order, don’t they? This is their leverage.”

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes… but I won’t do it. I won’t make that weapon for them.”

Azriel’s hand found yours, squeezing it tightly. “You won’t have to. We’ll find another way.”

Rhysand looked at you, his expression torn between rage and determination. “They’re trying to force your hand. They think that by taking Alex, they can control you. But we won’t let them.”

Cassian growled, his fists clenched at his sides. “We need to find out who they are and where they’re keeping him. Now.”

“I’ll have my spies start searching immediately,” Azriel said, his tone hard. “Every lead, every possible location—nothing is off-limits.”

Rhysand nodded, his mind clearly already working through the possibilities. “I’ll reach out to the other High Lords, see if anyone’s heard of a group operating like this. We need to move quickly.”

Mor’s eyes were filled with concern as she looked at you. “Y/N, do you have any idea who might be behind this? Anyone you’ve encountered in the past who could be connected?”

You shook your head, feeling the helplessness wash over you. “No… I don’t know. I’ve never seen that symbol before, never dealt with anyone like this.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the gravity of the situation pressing down on all of you. The stakes had never been higher, and the danger had never felt more real. But even in the midst of the fear and uncertainty, there was a resolve that burned in each of you—a determination to bring Alex back, no matter what it took.

Rhysand’s voice broke through the silence, his tone firm. “We’ll find him, Y/N. And when we do, they’ll regret ever touching him.”

Azriel’s hand was still in yours, his grip steady, his presence a source of strength that you clung to. “We’ll bring him home,” he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet intensity that left no room for doubt. “I swear it.”

With that promise hanging in the air, the planning began in earnest. Every resource at the Night Court’s disposal was put to use, every contact, every spy, every piece of information that could lead you to Alex. The hours passed in a blur of activity, but no matter how much was done, it never felt like enough.

As the night stretched on, you found yourself standing by the window, staring out at the darkened city below. The silence was oppressive, the weight of the unknown pressing down on you with a force that made it hard to breathe.

Azriel appeared beside you, his presence comforting in the quiet darkness. “Y/N,” he said softly, his voice breaking through the haze of your thoughts. “We’ll find him.”

You turned to look at him, your eyes burning with unshed tears. “What if… what if we’re too late?”

He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to fall. “We won’t be. I won’t let that happen.”

The conviction in his voice, the unwavering certainty in his eyes, gave you the strength to nod, to believe in the promise he was making. “Thank you, Azriel.”

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a tender gesture that spoke of his own fears and the comfort he was trying to offer you. “We’ll bring him home,” he repeated, his voice a quiet vow.

The night stretched on, and the darkness deepened, but you knew that you wouldn’t face it alone. Whatever lay ahead, you would face it together—with Azriel, with Rhysand, with Cassian and Mor. And no matter how dark the path became, you would not stop until Alex was safe, until the boy who had come to mean so much to you was back in your arms.

But as you stood there, staring out into the night, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning—that the road ahead would be long, and fraught with dangers you had never imagined. And in the depths of your heart, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

The following days were a blur of restless activity, each moment filled with a tension that gnawed at your insides. The Night Court’s network of spies had been mobilized, scouring every corner of Prythian for any trace of Alex. You barely slept, the worry gnawing at you every moment, and when you did close your eyes, you were haunted by the image of Stellan’s lifeless body and the fear of what might be happening to Alex.

It was early morning when Azriel came to you, his expression grim. You had been pacing the floor of your shop, trying to keep your hands busy by working on a blade that no longer held your interest. When you saw the look on his face, you knew he had news.

“They’ve found something,” Azriel said quietly, his voice laced with the tension of the past days.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you turned to face him. “Where? What did they find?”

Azriel took a step closer, his shadows swirling around him as if reflecting the storm of emotions he was trying to keep in check. “There’s been some activity at the border between the Night Court and the Day Court. A few of my spies picked up traces of unusual magic—a residual signature that matches what we found on the letter. It’s faint, but it’s something.”

You felt a flicker of hope, quickly followed by a surge of determination. “Then that’s where we need to go.”

Azriel’s expression darkened, and he shook his head. ��Y/N, I don’t think you should go. This could be a trap. They might be expecting you to follow this lead.”

Your jaw tightened, the resolve in your chest hardening like steel. “I have to go, Azriel. This is my fight. They took Alex because of me. I can’t just sit here while someone else handles it.”

Azriel stepped closer, his eyes intense as he reached out to take your hands in his. “I understand that, but you have to think about the bigger picture. If something happens to you—”

“Then I’ll face it,” you interrupted, your voice firm. “But I can’t let someone else do what I’m meant to take care of. Alex is out there, scared and alone. He needs me, Az. And I can’t—” Your voice broke, but you quickly gathered yourself. “I can’t live with myself if I don’t try.”

Azriel’s hands tightened around yours, his gaze searching your face as if trying to find a way to convince you otherwise. But he knew you too well, knew that once you had set your mind on something, there was no turning back.

“Then I’m coming with you,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “We’ll go together. But we do this carefully, Y/N. No rushing in without a plan. We can’t afford to make mistakes.”

You nodded, relief and gratitude washing over you in equal measure. “Thank you, Azriel.”

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “We’ll find him, Y/N. And we’ll bring him home.”

With the decision made, the two of you set about preparing for the journey ahead. There was no time to waste—every moment that passed was another moment that Alex was in danger. But as you gathered your weapons and prepared for what was to come, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the road ahead would be more dangerous than anything you had ever faced before.

As the hours passed and the preparations were completed, you found yourself standing at the edge of the city, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon. Azriel was beside you, his wings unfurled and ready to carry you both into the unknown. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, but there was no hesitation in your heart.

You turned to Azriel, your voice steady despite the fear gnawing at your insides. “Let’s go.”

And with that, the two of you took to the skies, leaving Velaris behind as you flew toward the border, toward the danger that awaited you. The wind whipped through your hair, the landscape below blurring as you soared higher, faster, driven by the unrelenting need to find Alex and bring him back.

But even as you flew, the dark clouds gathering on the horizon seemed to echo the storm brewing in your heart—a storm that would not be calmed until you had faced whatever awaited you at the border, and until Alex was safe once more.

——

The journey to the border was intense, the air thick with tension as you and Azriel flew across the vast landscape. The wind howled in your ears, but you barely noticed it, your mind focused on the task ahead. Every beat of Azriel’s wings brought you closer to the danger, closer to whatever trap awaited you at the border between the Night and Day Courts.

You had brought your best swords with you, the ones that had seen you through countless battles and challenges. They hung at your sides, their weight familiar and reassuring as you soared through the sky. You knew the path ahead would be fraught with danger, and you were prepared to face whatever came your way.

As the day began to wane, the sun dipping low on the horizon, you and Azriel landed in a dense forest not far from the border. The trees towered above you, their branches forming a protective canopy that blocked out most of the fading light. The air was cool and damp, the ground soft beneath your boots as you made your way through the underbrush.

The dense forest at the border between the Night and Day Courts was eerily quiet, the only sound the soft rustling of leaves as a cool breeze whispered through the trees. You and Azriel moved cautiously, your senses heightened, every shadow and flicker of movement catching your attention.

You were both on edge, knowing that the slightest misstep could lead to danger. And then, as if on cue, the silence was shattered by the sudden rustle of leaves, the snap of a twig, and the unmistakable sound of steel being drawn from its sheath.

A group of figures emerged from the shadows, their faces obscured by dark hoods and masks. Their movements were swift, coordinated—a group of trained killers who had clearly been waiting for you. Without hesitation, you drew your swords, the familiar weight of the blades bringing a surge of confidence as you prepared to face the threat head-on.

The first of the attackers lunged at you, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. You met his strike with a powerful parry, the clash of steel ringing out through the trees. Without missing a beat, you pivoted on your heel, bringing your other sword around in a swift arc that cut through the attacker’s defenses, sending him stumbling back with a grunt of pain.

But there was no time to pause, no time to catch your breath. Another attacker was on you in an instant, his movements fast and brutal. You sidestepped his initial thrust, your body moving with the grace and speed of someone who had spent years honing their skills. As his blade passed harmlessly by your side, you brought your own sword up in a fluid motion, slashing across his chest and sending him crashing to the ground.

Azriel was beside you, his shadows swirling around him like a living storm as he fought off his own assailants. His blades moved with lethal precision, every strike calculated, every movement efficient. The air around him seemed to darken, the shadows lending him an almost otherworldly aura as he cut through the attackers with ease.

But even with your combined skills, the attackers were relentless, their numbers greater than you had anticipated. You found yourself surrounded, forced to fend off strikes from all sides as the enemy pressed in. The clash of steel and the grunts of exertion filled the air, your senses overwhelmed by the chaos of battle.

One of the attackers managed to get close, his blade slicing across your arm before you could fully deflect it. You hissed in pain, but the wound was shallow, barely more than a scratch. As you glanced down, you saw the blue flames flicker across the cut, healing the wound almost instantly. The flames danced along your skin, sealing the flesh as if the injury had never occurred.

The attacker hesitated, his eyes widening in shock as he saw the flames. You didn’t give him a chance to recover. With a fierce cry, you drove your sword through his defenses, the blade biting deep into his side. He fell with a choked gasp, his body crumpling to the forest floor.

But the momentary distraction had left you vulnerable. Another attacker seized the opportunity, launching a quick strike that you barely managed to evade. The blade grazed your side, cutting through your tunic and drawing blood. But once again, the blue flames flared to life, closing the wound almost as quickly as it had been made.

Azriel noticed the flames as well, his eyes flicking to you even as he dispatched another attacker with a swift, brutal strike. There was a flash of concern in his gaze, quickly replaced by a renewed determination as he fought his way to your side.

The battle raged on, but with each passing moment, you and Azriel began to turn the tide. Your swords moved in perfect harmony, cutting through the ranks of attackers with deadly precision. The blue flames continued to flicker across your skin, healing every wound that dared to mar your flesh, their light casting an eerie glow in the darkening forest.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last of the attackers fell to the ground, his lifeless body joining the others in the clearing. You stood there, panting, your swords still gripped tightly in your hands as you scanned the area for any remaining threats. But the forest had fallen silent once more, the only sound the ragged breathing of you and Azriel as you slowly lowered your weapons.

Azriel sheathed his blades, his shadows slowly receding as he turned to you, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and admiration. “You handled yourself well,” he said, his voice rough from exertion. “But those flames… I’ve never seen anything like that.”

You nodded, still catching your breath as you looked down at the place where the wound had been. “It’s… a part of me. They’ve always been there, ever since I was young. They heal me, protect me.”

Azriel stepped closer, his gaze intense as he studied your face. “They’re remarkable. You’re remarkable.”

You managed a small smile, the tension of the fight beginning to ebb away. “Thank you, Azriel. But we should keep moving. There might be more of them out there.”

He nodded, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned to scan the area. “Agreed. But first, let’s rest. We need to regain our strength before we push on.”

The two of you found a small clearing a short distance away, where you quickly set up a makeshift camp. Azriel gathered wood for a fire while you kept watch, your swords resting beside you, ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice.

The night was quiet, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the distant rustle of leaves in the wind. The flames danced between you, casting flickering shadows across the ground as you both settled down to rest.

Azriel’s gaze was thoughtful as he watched you, and after a moment, he spoke. “Those swords… they’re not just weapons to you, are they?”

You glanced down at the blades resting beside you, the memories of their creation and the battles they had seen flooding your mind. “No, they’re not.”

Azriel waited, his expression patient, and after a moment, you began to speak, your voice soft as you shared the story of your swords.

“This one,” you said, lifting the longer of the two blades, “was the first sword I ever forged on my own. I was still an apprentice at the time, working under my master. It took me months to get it right—every strike of the hammer, every fold of the metal had to be perfect. My master wouldn’t let me use it until he was sure it was ready.”

You ran your fingers along the blade, the steel cool and smooth beneath your touch. “It’s seen me through some of the hardest fights of my life. Every time I draw it, I remember the lessons my master taught me—the importance of patience, of precision, of never letting fear control you.”

Azriel nodded, his eyes reflecting the firelight as he listened. “And the other one?”

You smiled faintly, lifting the shorter dagger from its sheath. “This one was a gift from my master when I completed my apprenticeship. He said it was a symbol of my journey, of everything I had overcome to reach that point. It’s small, but it’s sharp—like me, he used to say.”

You chuckled softly at the memory, the sound tinged with a hint of sadness. “These weapons are more than just tools. They’re a part of me, a testament to the life I’ve lived, the battles I’ve fought. They’ve been with me through everything.”

Azriel’s gaze softened, his voice low as he spoke. “I understand. My blades… they carry the weight of every life I’ve taken, every mission I’ve completed. They’re a part of who I am, just as yours are a part of you.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of connection between the two of you—something deeper than just the bond forged in battle. It was a shared understanding, a recognition of the sacrifices you had both made, the burdens you both carried.

The fire crackled softly between you, its warm glow casting flickering shadows across the clearing. The conversation had lulled into a comfortable silence, the weight of the journey and the battle you had just fought settling over you both. The night air was cool, but the warmth of the fire and the presence of Azriel beside you kept the chill at bay.

As you sat there, lost in thought, you felt a gentle, almost playful tug at your hair. You glanced over at Azriel, but his hands were resting on his knees, nowhere near you. It wasn’t until you noticed the faint, wispy tendrils of shadow curling around your hair that you realized what was happening.

Azriel’s shadows, usually dark and brooding, seemed to have taken on a life of their own. They twisted and danced around your head, teasing the strands of your hair as if playing a game. One of them curled around your wrist, its touch surprisingly warm, almost affectionate.

You looked at Azriel, your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Are they… playing with me?”

Azriel followed your gaze, his own eyes widening slightly as he observed his shadows’ behavior. “It seems so,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of wonder. “They don’t usually do that. They’re… not like this with anyone else.”

You tilted your head, watching as the shadows continued to weave through your hair, their movements gentle and almost tender. “Why do you think they’re doing it?”

Azriel’s gaze softened as he studied the shadows, his expression thoughtful. “I’m not sure. They’re usually more reserved, more… cautious around others. But with you…” He trailed off, his voice quiet as he watched the shadows curl around your fingers, almost as if they were holding on to you. “It’s like they’re drawn to you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought, reaching out to let one of the shadows wrap around your hand. It felt warm, like a gentle breeze against your skin. “Maybe they know I’m not a threat. Or maybe they just like me.”

Azriel’s lips curved into a small smile, his eyes meeting yours with a softness that made your heart skip a beat. “I think they do. They’ve been doing this more and more whenever you’re around.”

You chuckled softly, the sound light in the quiet of the night. “I suppose I should be flattered. It’s not every day you’re befriended by shadows.”

Azriel’s smile widened, and there was a warmth in his gaze that made you feel as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, sitting by the fire with the night wrapped around you like a protective cloak. “You should be. They’re very particular about who they let close.”

The shadows continued their gentle play, weaving through your hair and around your fingers, their touch light and almost soothing. It was a strange, but not unwelcome sensation—one that made you feel connected to Azriel in a way you hadn’t expected.

After a moment, Azriel’s voice broke the silence, his tone soft. “It’s a good sign, you know. That they’re comfortable around you. It means they trust you.”

You looked up at him, your smile fading into something more serious, more intimate. “And what about you, Azriel? Do you trust me?”

He held your gaze, his shadows still swirling around you, their movements slowing as if to match the rhythm of your heartbeat. “Yes,” he said quietly, the word carrying a weight that made your chest tighten. “I trust you, Y/N. More than I’ve trusted anyone in a long time.”

The sincerity in his voice, the openness in his eyes, made your breath catch. You reached out, your hand resting on his, the connection between you deepening in that moment of shared vulnerability.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. “That means more to me than you know.”

Azriel’s hand turned beneath yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. The shadows, now more subdued, continued to dance around the two of you, their presence a comforting reminder that, despite the darkness ahead, you were not alone.

And as you sat there, hand in hand with Azriel, the warmth of the fire and the gentle touch of the shadows surrounding you, you knew that whatever lay ahead, you would face it with him by your side.

tag list: @annamariereads16 @hanatsuki-hime @elsie-bells @shizukestar @rose-girls-world @brit-broskis-cole-fanfic @faridathefairy @elsie-bells @faridathefairy @wolfbc97 @rcarbo1 @kitsunetori @hufflepuff-pa55 @proclivity-for-fantasy-97 @sometimeseverythingsucks @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @lilah-asteria

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[smoooothoperator]

untouchable

02: Don't Blame Me

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: just lando being in love

a/n: Hello my loves! I hope everyone had a nice Christmas!! Just to say it: I'm reading ACOTAR and I swear I'm in love :) so yeah, I obviously had to add something about it. And yes, they place they will be staying looks kinda like Velaris!

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Sitting on an airplane, no matter if it's a commercial fight or in a private jet, with a couple, will always be tedious. 

And sitting in front of Harry and Eloise during the flight is like injecting a dose of self torture. Watching how he holds her, wrapping his arm around her is just a little tease of what I will be witnessing this whole week, watching how.he kisses her and how they cuddle because of the cold weather.

“Lando said he will go to the airport to pick us up” Harry said, making me nod and sigh. 

“That's so nice for him!” Eloise smiled. “Isn't it, Violet?”

“Mhm” I hummed, looking out the window.

It's not the first time something like this has happened. It feels like Eloise is trying to set me up with him, to make me look that he's a gentleman and someone I could be with. 

Maybe she knows that I like Harry? 

I focus back on my book, the one of many that came anonymously to my door. I just don't know who is the one that sends it, but it feels like that person knows me so well because it's the one I wanted.

“Oh? When did you get that book?” Eloise asked surprised when she saw it. “It was the secret admirer?”

“Secret admirer?” Harry asked, confused. ��What?”

“Yeah! Every two weeks she receives a package with a book on it” Eloise explained. “She even receives her favorite book with different editions and languages”

“Oh, really?” Harry frowned, looking at me.

“You saw it” I said. 

“But I thought it was a collection you made by yourself, not because a creepy stalker is sending them to you” he frowned, looking away. “So stupid, and the fact that you welcome those gifs make it worse”

I frown looking at him. Stupid? 

“Well, I think it's cute” Eloise argued, making Harry scoff. “It's for sure someone that pays attention to her and wants to make her happy”

Something I don't like about Harry is how little attention he paid to me since he started dating Eloise. We were friends before he started dating her, we respect each other and never hide things. But somehow, he changed. He changed the way he talked to me, it only took him a few months to change his behavior. 

The moment the plane landed I got up first, grabbing my bag and the coat. I heard Harry sigh heavily, getting up and walking behind me.

I saw the flight attendants taking our suitcases out of the hold and I walked towards my suitcase, going towards the car I recognized as Lando's.

“Hey- oh” Landon said, getting out of the car but I immediately got inside of it after putting my suitcase in the trunk. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing” I sighed. “Just Harry being an idiot”

“The usual, then” he nodded, making me sigh. “That’s nothing new, I guess”

I sighed, looking back at the book in my hands, thinking that Harry would be right, maybe. Maybe it is something creepy, having someone that keeps sending me books and gifts, someone that knows my address. Should I be concerned? One thing is having a secret admirer at school that leaves little love notes on your backpack, and another thing is having someone that sends you books to your apartment’s front door.

“Nice book” I heard Lando say, looking at the book on my lap.

“O-oh, thanks… it's new” I nodded. 

He smiled and nodded, looking back at Harry and Eloise sitting on the backseats, and he started to drive.

“The house is really nice. Max, Pietra and I arrived this morning” Lando started to say. “It has really nice views”

“Where are Pietra and Max now, by the way?” Harry asked, frowning.

“Buying groceries and going to the ski shop to rent our equipment for the week” Lando answered. “I made them a list so if you want to add things…”

He gave us his phone with Max's chat open, messages of what he has to buy were written on it. I looked at the list, but what really got my attention were three things.

-Coffee (the mocha one)

-Ginger cookies

-Marshmallow bears

Those are things I like. How did he know that? Maybe it was Eloise who told him.

“Is there anything you need?” he asked me.

“No, no. It's alright” I nodded, passing the phone to Eloise.

I looked back at the book, frowning. This was exactly the book I wanted, one I have been talking about for a while with Eloise. Maybe she is the one that gifted it to me? And the other books? But why didn't she say anything? Why send them anonymously?

I looked back at her, how her hand was held by Harry's while looking at the groceries, resting her head on his shoulder.

God, I wish that was me. I wish he paid me as much attention as he pays to her. I wish I never introduced her to him.

I wish… 

The way to the house Lando rented was beautiful, showing an amazing snowy landscape with trees and the roofs of the houses covered with a white blanket. The chimneys of the houses were working, making sure to keep the house warm. And not far away, a mountain. It was a perfect picture, just how I imagined that city in the book I was reading.

“Wait until you see the views of your room” I heard Lando say. 

I looked at him and smiled nodding, looking back at the road and humming softly the song the radio was playing.

Every time she smiles my heart jumps. That’s what being in love feels like, I guess.

Arriving at the rented house I hear Eloise and Violet gasp, making Harry and me laugh. It wasn’t too big, but spacious. The porch of the house had a table with a few chairs, somewhere where you can sit and have a hot drink while looking at the ski zone next to the house. It has been snowing since this morning, so now the roof was covered in snow, but that didn’t mean that the interior of the house wasn’t warm.

“It’s a nice one, Lando” I heard Violet say behind me after she grabbed her suitcase from the back of the car. “This time you’ve outdone yourself”

“I’ll take that as a compliment” I laughed softly, watching her walk away carefully, trying to fall because of the snow. “I'll go pick up Max and Pietra, just get comfortable in the house”

Only a few minutes later I saw Violet walking out of the house, with her hands making tight fists and her jaw clenched.

“I'm going with you” she said, making me frown. “Don't give me that look! You and I both know what those two will do once they get inside their room”

“Oh, yeah” I nodded, laughing softly. 

I drove away, with her sitting on the passenger seat next to me. I heard her hum softly the music, watching outside the window.

Something I like about her is how simple she is, the way she can be happy with little and simple things. How something like snow falling can change her mood in a matter of seconds, or how a song she likes that is playing on the radio makes her sing under her breath.

Violet Sinclair is someone you definitely fall in love with the first time you see her, it's impossible to not love her. Everytime she walks in a room all eyes go to her, at least mine. The way her perfume hypnotizes me when she walks by or when she's close to me is something I never knew I could experience in my life. 

How can Harry be so cruel with her? How can he not love her? Why would he prefer Eloise before Violet? Why can't she see the way he is with her? Why can't she see that I love her?

Everytime I have her close to me it is like having a little taste of heaven.

“Did you see your room?” I asked, breaking the silence that fell between us.

“Yeah” she nodded. “You were right, the view from my room is perfect”

“I'm glad you like it” I smile. “I left that room for you, mine is actually at the other way of the house”

“Why? You came first, you had every right to pick the room you want”

“Because I know how much you love winter and snow” I said looking at her, and in that moment I saw her blush. “And I know how similar is this place with the one of your books”

I know her like the palm of my hand. And it might sound stupid, or delusional, or even creepy, but this week I want to show her how much I love her. 

I want to make her forget Harry.

When we arrived to the market where I left Pietra and Max I parked the car so I could help them to get all the things on the back of the car, making Violet wait inside the car.

“What did you do to make her come with you?” Max asked, surprised.

“Nothing, actually” I sighed. “I think it was Harry himself”

“God, that idiot…”

Everyone sees the way he treats Violet. Well, everyone except Eloise and Violet. And it just makes me feel worse, because it looks like she is under a spell that blinds her and doesn't make her see how he really is.

“I wonder at which moment he started to be an asshole with her” Pietra sighed. “She doesn't deserve to be treated like that”

“No, not at all…” I sighed.

When we went back to the house all of us walked with the bags in our hands inside of it. Harry and Eloise were out of sight, but the noises upstairs gave us an idea of what they were doing.

“How can they be so disgusting?” Max groaned, taking the things out of the bags and putting them on the cabinets.

“Let them be…” Violet sighed.

Why does she keep defending him? Why does she have to be in love with him and not with me?

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@elisysd @racinggirl @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @landoyesrizz @lorarri @bellwhysomean

[lovemyromance]

If people are reading Feysand & Nessian interactions and thinking they parallel Elucien ... idk what to tell them.

Feyre hated Rhys - but she did not balk from him. She did not avoid him. She did not shrink into herself around him.

Nesta bickered endlessly with Cassian - but she was not losing her boldness around him. She was not leaving rooms when he entered, refusing to even speak to him.

I am all for an enemies to lovers story. We've seen it twice already with Feysand and Nessian, in a sense. But what makes it enemies to lovers? It's not as simple as "they hate each other and then they somehow fall in love". Enemies to lovers always starts out with initial attraction.

Feyre through Rhys was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. Nesta nearly gave into Cassian when he visited their manor while she was still human. Despite how they felt about their love interest, they could not deny they were attracted to them.

And I don't just mean like, physical attraction. I mean there was that intensity, that honed in focus on only them. It felt significant, like two magnets that initially repel each other but once flipped, are impossible to pry apart.

Elucien does not have that.

Elain actively avoids Lucien. She does not initiate conversation with him, even when Feyre tries to force them into the same room. She does not use his gifts. She shrinks into herself.

Yes, SJM has written countless enemies to lovers couples. Like... all of them lowkey are enemies to lovers lol. But if you really look at those couples vs Elucien, can you say they are the same?

No. They are not. The female in all the relationships she has written has never balked from her male love interest. They have not avoided the other male. They don't lose their personalities around their men. They don't shut down and leave the room.

"Oh Elain is just shy" - No, she is not. She is quiet, sure, polite, yes, but she is not shy. She interacts with the IC just fine. She has friends in Velaris. She tends to the gardens of other fae in the NC. She is not some shy thing that is so afraid of the fae world that she hides from her mate 🙄

You know who she doesn't balk from, though? Azriel. She calls his scarred hands beautiful, she can understand him without a single word.

What about that tells you she's some frail little terrified thing? Is it really so hard for people to believe she does not want Lucien?

It's not enemies to lovers slow burn between Elucien. They are not enemies. They are not even friends-barely acquaintances. There has been no space for any feeling to grow between them. They do not hate each other.

But they also have no obstacles in their path. Elain is not afraid of fae anymore and she's over Graysen, so what are the other obstacles? There's quite literally nothing standing in their way to get together but they haven't. Why not?

I stand by my opinion that if Elucien ever stood a chance, SJM would have written it any other way. She wouldn't have brought in Azriel, she wouldn't have stated endless times how Elucien avoid each other (not just Elain avoiding Lucien). If she wanted to, she would've written Lucien in place of Azriel saving her at Hybern. She would've written Elain getting Lucien presents at Solstice. Elain & Lucien sharing an intimate moment under the cover of the night.

But she didn't write that! So if all this couple has is indifference and a stale mating bond - why are people insisting Elucien is about to be some kind of grand love story? Make it make sense.

Enemies to lovers needs intensity, drama, and tension. Elucien does not have that. Elain avoiding Lucien is not to cause drama and tension - it's because she is uncomfortable. Stated multiple times in the text.

Feyre was never uncomfortable around Rhys. Nesta was never uncomfortable around Cassian.

That's the difference.

[maria-sand-22]

People angry with rhys for assigning cassian to nesta damage control and rehabilitation and angry with cassian for being to strict and harsh with her and not making excuses for her behaviours is insane

You really just want rhysand to release nesta into velaris when she took more power from the cauldron than she can handle so she can roam amongst the fae children of his court that she hates so much? If I found out that the leader of my nation released his drunken impulsive abusive racist against our race suster in law who is also overpowered and capable of k*lling us all I'd be rioting the next day.

For all he knew as well there wasn't anyone in his IC who wasn't in danger around her except cassian, he's her mate rhysand probably can't imagine any fae would be capable of harming their mate whether they want them or not.

And for the people thinking nesta wasn't that bad and wasn't a danger to the people of velaris feyre didn't mind killing a fae man she didn't know for the simple crime of being fae, nesta hated fae 50 times more than feyre with 50 times less compassion and Impulse control than her, and for all rhysand knew from feyre's memories she was the devil himself nobody was safe around her except the person she physically couldn't bring herself to hurt;

- she literally never cared about feyre's life when the beast came to take her she only protected elain while letting feyre get taken

- she would constantly verbally abuse feyre to the point of irreversible damage to her character and self esteem

“His snarl set the flames of the candles guttering. 'You aren't what I had in mind for a human- believe me.'

I could almost feel the wound deep in my chest as it ripped open and all those awful, silent words came pouring out. Illiterate, ignorant, unremarkable, proud, cold- all spoken from Nesta's mouth, all echoing in my head with her sneering voice."

"I needed new boots, but Elain needed a new cloak, and Nesta was prone to crave anything someone else possessed."

"[...] I glanced at Nesta’s stillshiny pair by the door. Beside hers, my too-small boots were falling apart at the seams, held together only by fraying laces."

“What do you know?” Nesta breathed. “You’re just a half-wild beast with the nerve to bark orders at all hours of the day and night. Keep it up, and someday—someday, Feyre, you’ll have no one left to remember you, or to care that you ever existed.”

She refused to help even though everyone was in danger. “Find somewhere else,” Nesta said again, straight-backed. “I don’t want them in my house. Or near Elain.”

On top of that, Nesta loves to read and she never wanted to teach her younger sister how to read, but there was no problem in encouraging Feyre to hunt while Nesta herself was sitting at home.

"The story is told from Feyre's point of view and she may not have interpreted it correctly." Yes, because there are really many interpretations for your older sister to leave you to die while hugging the other sister. Thank you, next.

If Nesta was a man he would've been an irredeemable monster after acosf, because for an abuser she never truly redeemed herself or expressed any true remorse through actions rather than internal thoughts

Remorseful abusers don't try to hurt their victims further by dragging their reputation through the mud when they take them into their new home

Remorseful abusers don't try to attack or alienate their victims support system

Remorseful abusers don't try to rationalise or excuse 5heir abuse

They simply accept that they F'ed up and live with and accept the consequences of their actions such as their victim struggling to trust them again, their victims loved ones disliking them or never forgiving them, etc..

[asnowfern]

Turning Darkness Into Light

Summary: When ghost-seeing Elain moves into the flat Lucien has been haunting, she has only two rules for him: 1. They are not friends 2. He is not allowed to enter her bedroom

This is how Lucien breaks both of them. Rating: E, NSFW WC: 5.7k Read on AO3

A/N: Happy @lucienweekofficial!!! Written for the Day 7: Free Day prompt. Or in which I make up a lot of nonsensical rules about being a ghost. Enjoy!

“Good morning to all my lovely listeners! It looks to be another beautiful day in Velaris! We have a great show for you today-“ 

Lucien tunes out the radio blaring out of the open window from the apartment next door, the noise steadily sinks into the ether as he glides further away into the bedroom tucked into the corner. 

Another beautiful day, it said. 

Another day, another week, another month, another year. Lucien barely even knows what year it is anymore, having lost track after the first five years or so. Five years after getting murdered in cold blood in their sleep in the same apartment he now haunts. Despite the years that passed and his other memories fade, Lucien still remembers that night in chilling detail. 

Being awakened from a silenced shot, splattered with blood, Jes’s face permanently locked in a faux peaceful expression as a bullet cleanly ran through her warm, giving heart and stopped it from ever beating again. Cold, pitiless eyes pinned him down as the gunman turned his pistol on him, his words lodging into his shocked brain for the rest of time.

“Courtesy of the Forest Corp”

Lucien appeared as a disembodied spirit soon after. 

He took sole comfort for years in the fact that he woke up alone, that even though he was the reason she died, Jes at least passed peacefully. Well, as peacefully as one could be after getting murdered. If he had to spend the rest of eternity floating around as a bitter, regretful ghost, he didn’t curse the same for the love of his life. 

It didn't take long before Lucien realised that being a ghost is exceedingly boring. One would think that being a vengeful ghost is more exciting. But alas, the media lies. Instead, he is trapped in a limited radius around his block. Unable to communicate, unable to touch anything physically and unable to do anything. It took him a total of three days of wandering before he returned to his apartment, which had already been cleaned up and cordoned off. 

In another five days, his stuff was cleaned out. In another month, a new unassuming tenant had moved in. A grouchy man in his fifties who despite his age, was quite terrified of the supernatural - something Lucien noted with mild amusement. 

Many tenants came and left over the years. Some left organically, some moved out in a hurry, their pupils shifted around in panic while Lucien snorted at the side. 

So, yes. Being a ghost is boring. What else is there other than messing with assholes who still had the privilege of living, of being able to feel the rush of the warm essence of life running through their veins and yet did nothing to deserve it? 

Nothing much, apparently. 

Still, Lucien stays. After all, there aren’t many places to go. 

The door clicks open in a distance, followed by the scuffle of cardboard boxes scraping against wooden floors and feminine sighs of exertion. It takes another few more minutes of more boxes being pushed through the door before the wooden door shuts with a thud and keys drop to the floor in a jangle. 

Time to meet the new neighbour, he thinks as he passes through the wall and locks gazes with dark brown eyes. Beautiful chocolate eyes widen slightly and annoyance flashes through delicate features. The flush on cheeks from the physical exertion deepen as rosebud mouth huffs, the action bounces soft golden brown curls framing her face. 

She is gorgeous. So gorgeous that she stole his non-existent breath. 

Then the muscle at her jaw ticks as realisation strikes and she grumbles, “I knew the rental of this place was too good to be true.” 

His new beautiful flatmate can see ghosts. 

Well, that’s a first. 

===

Lucien freezes, his cold form is completely still as he processes her words. It cracks and pushes him back into motion when she speaks again with a perfectly arched brow, “What? Is this the first time you’ve met someone with the Sight?” 

Despite everything, old habits from decades past surges as he throws her a playboy grin, “Not one as gorgeous as you.” 

For a beat, silence ruled the space. Then she erupts into laughter, a melodic sound that blesses ears of the dead. 

“Well, I guess a flirt isn’t the worst I have encountered.” She says after the outburst. She picks up a box and moves deeper into the room, presumably to make space for more boxes to come. 

Lucien shoves down the pointless instinct to step towards her and offer aid. Instead, he remains where he is and leans casually against the wall to ask, “so what is the worst you’ve encountered?” 

She shrugs noncommittally, never stopping in her tracks as she flits through boxes, replying loftily, “Never you mind.” She whips out a slim phone from the back pocket of fitted jeans and begins tapping at it, the clacking sound of her nails against tempered glass fills the room. She clicks the screen into darkness and rests it on one of the boxes. Finally, she focuses those doe-like eyes on him, the gaze is sharp even as she keeps her tone light, “Still, if this arrangement is to work out, we are going to need to have some rules.” 

His new neighbour wastes no time in laying down the law on him and somewhere between a couple of trips down to the van, the two of them come to an agreement of two basic rules to live by. 

There will be no conversations or “heart to hearts”. They are just flat shares, not friends.

To make coexisting easier, she will spend most of her time at home in the bedroom, which he is in no uncertain terms allowed to enter her bedroom

Any violations of the above will result in Elain exorcising Lucien into nothingness.

And that is also how they learnt of each other’s names.

Lucien realises rather quickly that life with a living person who can see him, even one as stunning as Elain Archeron, can still be just as boring. In fact, it is even more boring as he can’t even mess with his living tenant. 

Nope, he’s learnt his lesson after he repeatedly walked through the oven and ruined a perfectly proofed loaf of sourdough. The entire flat is soon randomly laced with a sort of purified salt that burns the spirit and transforms the space into a landmine. He is fairly sure the smirk Elain gave him as she waved him out the door would, ironically, haunt him for some time. 

He got the hint: Never mess with Elain’s baking. Ever.

===

Rule 2: Lucien is in no uncertain terms allowed to enter Elain’s bedroom

Lucien lays flat on his back. If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel the cool surface of the stone flooring pressing into his skin. He can entrench himself in the distant street noises, pretending just for a moment that he is out there, coming home after a drink with friends, that he exists. 

A loud hollow sound cuts through the air, screaming for attention. It pulls him out of his reverie and back into nothingness. He frowns as he moves towards the source: a malfunctioning electric kettle searing its way through the metal plates. Acrid smoke rises from the appliance as it continues to wail. 

Elain. The mere thought of her dying in this apartment, all that light snuffed out, sends a streak of panic through him.

Urgency pulls him to the bedroom door and with a sharp inhale that he doesn’t need, Lucien bursts into Elain’s room where said girl is fast asleep in bed. 

“Elain!” He exclaims firmly, his hands flail in the air and plunges into her abdomen. Elain inhales sharply, body shooting upright. Chocolate brown pupils swivel around the room wildly before landing on him. 

“Lucien,” she hisses, her fist is closed tightly as she raises it next to her face. It wavers in the air as she brandishes it threateningly at him, “what are you doing in here?”

He simply informs flatly, “Your kettle is on the verge of catching fire.”

She stills for a moment before she bolts, the screams of the kettle echo throughout the quiet flat. Lucien watches on helplessly as a slender arm rushes to yank the plug out of the socket and silences the appliance. It hisses and envelopes them in smog when Elain douses it with water. Her button nose wrinkles as she grimaces at the smell. 

The ghost turns his gaze on the living as the air slowly clears out. He feels the edges of his lips lift into an amused smile as he takes in her dishevelled appearance. Dressed in an oversized shirt and shorts, her golden brown curls are mussed and balled into a large bird's nest while dried drool streaks across her cheek. She looks adorable.

Sensing the gaze, her body rotates slowly towards him. Her brow raises in question as her head tilts slightly. 

He shakes his head slightly. Gesturing to his cheeks, he comments dryly, “You have a little something here.” 

Perplexed, she raises a hand to her cheek. His traitorous heart squeezes as rose pink dusts her cheeks at the realisation. She scowls while walking to the sink and gently rinses the marks off her face. 

Without another word, Lucien retreats. Just in case, she gets her hands on more salt, only to be stopped when she calls out.

“Lucien,” he turns to meet soft, round eyes, “thank you.” 

Something that has long laid dormant twinges in him. It’s warm and sings in his chest like a gentle flame. He ignores it, saying instead, “I’m not keen to share this flat with you forever.”

Elain snorts and enters the room. 

===

Rule 1: There will be no conversations or “heart to heart”. We are not friends. 

Something between them changed after that night. Elain’s glares at him are no longer as scathing. She laughs and scowls playfully at his sarcastic remarks and throws back quips of her own. With every night, the figurative and literal distance between them reduces. 

Still, it catches him as a surprise when she swings into the fire escape one evening, settling next to him. Their bodies are so close that he could almost feel the faint heat radiating from her body. Again, something in him twinges in regret - at what is there, yet is not.

They sit in silence for a while, content to just watching the traffic below, people getting about their lives. 

“Why did you never cross the border? All these years? Is it out of vengeance or regret?” Her question comes out quietly. It drifts into the peaceful night of Velaris, just waiting, never rushing. 

He lets his own response fade into the city. “I take it you found out what happened to me.”

She shuffles uncomfortably. “There has only ever been one fatal incident reported in this building.” Her expression is regretful and almost pained as she continues, “The double homicide of Lucien and Jesminda Vanserra.” 

It surprises him at how little he feels at the words, at the mention of his long dead love. There is no bitterness or regret. Just a sort of numbness that he has long been accustomed to before the belle next to him walked through the door.

He shrugs, leaning back slightly to rock on his palms, “Well, then there you have it.” He pauses a beat. “Did they report who was responsible?”

This time. The reply nearly brings him to his knees.

“Yes. Beron Vanserra was arrested months later for the deaths. He was sentenced to life in prison.” Again, her eyes are sorrowful, the usual brightness in them dimmed. 

“He, no” he corrects himself quietly, shaking his head as he marvels at the truth, “they did it. They actually arrested him.” 

She nods, looking back out to the streets beneath, as if she needs to distance herself from the news she is imparting. “They said it was your mother’s testimony that sealed the case. She and your brother provided all the evidence needed to charge him. No amount of money or clout could protect him.” 

Lucien tips his head back as a weight lifts from him. His laugh bubbles out in incredulous, surprised shudders. His mother’s beautiful face comes to mind. Her gentle kindness and tenderness, her quiet strength that his father evidently was never able to beat out of.

For the first time in many, many years, Lucien cries tears that he doesn’t know he still possesses. They stream down his face with a tingling chill. 

With a single sentence, Elain has opened the door to years of suppressed memories, shedding light on the nothingness he has been existing with. Her face is laced with concern as she looks on from the side, lending him strength with nothing but her glowing presence. 

Eventually, the tears stop and though his heart aches, Lucien smiles. 

“Thank you, Elain.” 

===

Lucien paces the apartment, his eyes wandering to the clock once more as the minute hand strikes the midnight mark.

Tick, tick, tick.

By the next time the second hand moves, Lucien has leapt out of the window and is airborne. 

He pushes the boundaries of his immortal prison, traversing the dark skies. Never stopping until russet eyes spot a glint of burnished gold, cornered in a deserted alleyway. His ears pick up latin chants, expertly commanded by a familiar feminine voice. 

Elain isn’t the one being cornered.

She is the one cornering others. 

She stands tall, her hand is raised to shoulder level, a rosary wound tightly around her palm. She brandishes it at two wailing discombobulated spirits thrashing against an invisible barrier cast by a circle of salt. The force of the exorcism generates a gust of wind that blows her hair back, revealing a fierceness to her that one seldom sees in sweet, gentle Elain Archeron. 

Her eyes shimmer as she stares the spirits down, never once stopping the stream of chants. So focused on what lays before her that she neglects to realise a third comrade creeping up behind her. But Lucien does.

He dives down, his feet colliding sharply against the spirit’s head. She screeches, an ugly face twisting into a contortion of grotesque features. The redhead’s back is to the blonde, their eyes met for a brief moment - just long enough for Elain to give him a curt nod. 

Lucien springs into action. With a single smooth motion, he steps forward towards the still growling spirit and sucker punches her in the gut. While distracted, he hauls her up and tosses into the ring with her companions. As if on cue, Elain ends the chant and snaps her fingers. Each grain of salt lining the circle explodes and traps them in a closed wall of silver flames. They vanish in a fit of screams. 

Elain casually places the rosary back into her bag, her face carefully blank. Only the slightest feathering in her jaw betrays any emotion she might be feeling. She rocks on her heels, tossing a quick glance at him before walking away. Back to the direction of their flat. 

Lucien follows suit, sliding forward so that their steps are in time. He observes the tense bite and  comments lightly, “So cool side gig you’ve got there.” 

Doe eyes shift to him for a brief moment, the movement is skittish like a fawn. She recovers, nodding. Her throat bobs when she replies with a shrug, “Started as self-defence.” 

“Ahhh,” his head tilts slightly, his heart twisting at the thought of a young, scared Elain getting terrorised by the dead, “did you run into them often?”

“I did,” she admits, “and eventually, you learn what affects them. Combine them with nonsense from the internet that sometimes does work and voila! Exorcist!” 

Something like pride rumbles in his chest. He huffs in amusement as he shakes his head, “Badass, Archeron. Badass.” 

She stops in her tracks to look at him with wide eyes. “You don’t think it’s weird?” 

He raises a brow, “You do remember you’re talking to a ghost, right?” Seeing the frown beginning to form, he hastily continues, “But it doesn’t change the fact that it must have been terrifying. Yet, you found a way to turn it around, turn it in strength.” He gestures to her with a flourish, “Like I said, badass.” 

She looks away, the apples of her cheeks tinged in pink, “You’re the first to say that. So,” she clears her throat, “so thank you.” 

Lucien can’t stop a smile from forming.

They walk in a comfortable silence after, with only the taps of Elain’s shoes against the concrete pavement accompanying them. The streets are quiet. A small miniscule number of stars observe from above, twinkling visibly even in the city lights. The tranquillity of the moment is a stark difference from just five minutes ago.

“I found your brother.” Elain starts, her hands wrestling in each other, “the one that helped your mother put him away. Eris. He’s CEO of Forest Corp now.”  

He maintains a careful, neutral expression even as something in him stirs uncomfortably, “Oh?”

“I thought you could talk to him. Y’know, get some closure.” 

“Why?” He winces internally at the sharp tone. Still, he says dismissively, “He can’t see me. He’s not you.” 

This time, he does wince. But he doesn’t take it back, doesn’t apologise. Where is she going with this? Why is she pushing him away? 

To her credit, Elain doesn’t flinch. She just continues, “It’s Halloween next week. The festivities may be fake but it is still the day when the veil between worlds narrows. There are… ways to make you visible.” 

He might have stopped breathing even if he didn’t need to, “Why?” 

“You’ve seen them. What happens when spirits remain too long.” His mind easily flashes to the trio from earlier, “You are remarkably fresh for someone who has been around for so long. It wouldn’t last.” 

A presence haunts her eyes but it goes away with a blink. “I don’t want to lose you like that. I can’t lose you like that.” Her eyes finish what her words can’t. 

Even if it means losing what we have today. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

What if I tell you that you’ve made me feel more myself than I have been in years? 

===

Rule 2: Lucien is in no uncertain terms allowed to enter Elain’s bedroom (again)

The words stay with him throughout the night and most of the day after. When Elain comes home from work, she doesn’t bring it up, doesn’t push. They chat as they usually do. He laughs, she laughs. It’s like they never had the conversation. 

Later in the night, Lucien leans back. The radio that Elain leaves on for him is seated next to him, chattering away. He mindlessly hums to the tunes. 

Then he hears it. In between the beats of the song. 

A pained moan. Coming from Elain’s room. 

Lucien hovers outside, unsure if he should say something. 

Tick, tick, tick.

“Lucien!” 

He passes through but doesn’t approach any further. Every thought eddies from his mind as he stares dumbstruck.

Elain is leaning back against a stack of pillows. Her sleeping shorts and panties lay discarded on the ground. Her face is caught in ecstasy as one hand fists the bedsheet and the other is fingers deep within her. 

When brown eyes shakily open, it meets blazing russet. The moment drags as conflict wars within expressive moons. After the torturous beat, it fades, leaving nothing but desire in its place. Rosebud lips pull up into a smile so sinful he thinks it might just be worth going to Hell for. Elain lets her hand fall limply as her legs spread open further, glistening with her release. 

Fuck him. 

“All of that at the mere thought of me?” He says huskily as he approaches. His entire being trembles in anticipation. 

“Are you going to help me take it further?” She tilts her chin up in challenge, leveling him with a devilish smirk. 

She shrugs off her shirt over his head to reveal pert nipples. She locks them in a heavy gaze as her fingers start to move back to her centre, gliding over the swollen clit. 

He is naked with a single thought. He gives himself a long, drawn out pump, savouring every darkening shade of brown pupils. He stops at the foot of the bed, his voice drops an octave as he asks silkily,“Have you been imagining those are my fingers? Thicker, longer, rougher?” 

She whimpers. A sound so sweet to his ears. She breathes, “Yes” 

A guttural sound involuntarily escapes his throat and he orders, “Then plunge them in. As deep as you can.” 

Elain moans loudly as she complies, disappearing three fingers inside her at once. He moves his hand in time with hers, matching her stroke for stroke. He savours every whimper, every pant.

“That’s it, such a good girl.” he purrs, chocolate brown seizes russet. He lets go of the aching appendage in favour of lightly caressing the highly sensitive bud, not quite touching but just enough. He is rewarded when her hips buck involuntarily into a ghostly hand, mouth shapes into a perfect ‘o’ as she gasps at the sensation. 

His finger continues to rub circles, learning from every sound that falls out of that perfect mouth. He quickly settles into a rhythm that has Elain panting loudly, her breaths quicken with her fingers, edging her closer and closer to her climax. 

“Come for me, Elain.” 

Watching Elain ride herself through her release is the closest Lucien will ever get to a religious experience. Her beautifully flushed cheeks, her lips are parted slightly as her eyes glaze with lust. A temptress and a Goddess both at once. He couldn’t help himself but slant his lips over hers in yet another light touch - the only thing he could do. 

“Beautiful” he whispers as he commits this image to his eternal afterlife, “absolutely beautiful.” Elain’s lips tremble as they curve up into an apprehensive smile. Then, she pushes herself off the bed and towards the bathroom. 

Lucien is by the door when she returns, their bodies are inches apart when she passes through the doorway.  The proximity tingles and pulls at something in his chest. But he forces himself to tear his gaze away and turn in the opposite direction to leave. 

“Stay” 

Her face is soft and pleading. Her hand reaches out to him before she stops herself and draws it to her chest. She shakes her head slightly and determination overtakes her face. “Stay,” she repeats firmly, as sure as day.

He follows her back to bed, gingerly lying against the soft surface. She turns to her side to face him, waits as he does  the same. They’re so close. His body tingles again as something within hums in content. 

“I can’t lose you.” She confesses in a quiet whisper, “Please.”

Everything in him wants to touch her, tuck the stray strand away, stroke her cheek, hold her. Goddamn, he wants to hold her so bad it hurts. He clenches his fist by his side, desperate to hold it at bay. 

He shakes his head, smiling sadly.  “You’ll lose me anyway.”

She glares at him. Those same rosebud lips shaped into a petulant pout. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

He laughs in a low rumble though he knows it doesn’t quite reach his eyes when he finally relents, “Okay, let’s set up the meet.”

===

Time has passed all too quickly before Elain is in front of him using a chalk to trace a large white circle on the living room floor. An old tattered book lays open before her. The brunette extracts a stone of pure obsidian from her pocket, never once pausing or stopping as she recites from the ancient text.

Not even as the air surrounding him thickened to a point where it is nothing but suffocating smog. It is a strange sensation. The air eventually visibly returns but the heaviness continues to drag him down. Still, it is only then that Elain relents. Her voice dies down with the wind, her raised hand drops to her side. She staggers, her body sways with exhaustion. Yet determined eyes fix him a questioning stare. Did it work?

Lucien reaches his hand forward, towards Elain’s slender fingers. His heart feels more alive, pounding and dragging as they get closer and closer. Until… 

His fingers pass through warm flesh. 

The space between his brows knot in disappointment. Before he returns Elain’s gaze, Lucien dashes downstairs: out of the privacy of their apartment and into the eyes of the public. 

Careful not to phase through the physical world where people might see, he halts at the sidewalk, a few paces from the entrance. 

“Excuse me!” He calls out to a young couple walking past. Incredibly, they turn to him. Taking a breath, he continues to ask, “Do you happen to know if the Happy Fiddle cafe is near here?”  

He watches in amazement as they politely shake their heads and continue forward. Heaving a soft exclamation of triumph, he returns to the flat. 

“Where did you manage to find that book?” He asks in bewilderment after he imparts the good news. 

Elain simply grins mischievously as she slots said book into her drawer, “I know people.”

==

The plan is simple. Lucien might be visible to everyone but he is still trapped within the same radius of the flat. Nowhere near the Forest Corp office building. Elain had instead been able to track down Eris’s email contact, sending him a carefully worded message. A harmless sentence that only the Vanserra heir would pick up on. 

As they say, Mr Vanserra, only the foxes in the autumn forest could run the fastest?

Predictably, Eris, who still never fails to put his family first, rings the doorbell at seven pm sharp. 

Just as the email indicated.

The Forest Corp CEO walks through the door, levelling Elain a cold, assessing gaze. And Lucien has to resist the urge to rush forward towards his brother. 

Eris has aged gracefully, barely looking like his true age of fifty. His sharp features could still bring him the attention of any female or male he wanted. Yet, it is the slight peppering of grey in his hair and the dignified lines that trace his face that really punches Lucien in the gut. The clear reminder that time has moved for the people in his life. That where he remained unmoving, forever lost to time, the people in his life hadn’t.

 “Congratulations, you’ve gotten my attention.” Eris says mockingly to Elain, his amber eyes flash dangerously, “What are you going to do with it?” 

To her credit, Elain meets his cold stare unflinchingly. The edges of her mouth lift into a flat polite smile, asking instead, “What do you know of the afterlife, Mr Vanserra?” 

Eris bristles, his brows crease with annoyance. His body language shifts minutely into one Lucien is intimately familiar with. So he interjects, stepping forward from the shadows, “What she means to say, Eris, is do you believe in ghosts?” 

Amber eyes widen in shock as Eris stares wide eyed at the ghost of his little brother, stunned into immobility for a full thirty seconds. It is only when Elain leaves the apartment with a subtle nod from Lucien that he springs into action. 

“How dare you?” He seethes, his handsome features contorting in rage. He steps towards Lucien, extending his hand to roughly grab at his collar, only to grasp air in its place. 

“What the hell?” The older Vanserra cusses under his breath, immediately looking around for a projector. Something, anything to explain the apparent presence of his dead brother in his old residence. 

“It’s really me, Eri.” He says gently, raising his hands up in platitude. “No tricks. I never left.” 

Indecision tears at Eris, disbelief waging war on an inerasable pain. He says quietly, “Foxes run fastest in the autumn forest.” 

“But only as a pack can they do so.” Lucien finishes softly. Amber eyes finally meet russet. It stirs distant memories of a scared young boy running into the arms of his older brother, memories of days where nightmares could be banished with a favoured fairytale.

Eris falls forward, his hand grips tightly at the corner of the doorway to hold himself up. “Luci? How?” 

He shrugs, “An exorcist moved in” 

He raises his brow in scepticism, “Elain Archeron? Huh.” He continues at Lucien’s questioning look, “I know her older sister. It’s the reason why I showed up.”

Huh. 

The two brothers fell into an awkward silence. 

Then they both predictably try to break it at the same moment. 

“So” / “I need to know why, Eris.” 

Eris’s throat bobs and his jaw sets in locked tension. He doesn’t ask further, doesn’t need to. Even after two decades, he still knows his youngest brother. He could only say bitterly, “he had a bad day.” 

Everything stills as Lucien processes it. His throat tightens uncomfortably. “What?” He forces the question out, his voice rising with every word. “He sent killers to murder my wife and I in cold blood because he had a bad day?”  

Eris says nothing. A myriad of pain and regret clouding his face. 

“What about the Vanserra pride? And honour?” He spits venomously, “All that talk growing up and he sends assassins to kill us in our sleep?” 

“Word of your marriage finally reached him. He was livid.” 

“Why?! Because Jes didn’t come from the old lines? What? Because she’s not rich so she’s unworthy?!”

Something nags at him even as he spits out question after question, that he was missing something critical. Something confirmed in the uncertainty in Eris’s face. Because Eris is never uncertain. He lies and manipulates but he is never, never unsure. So Lucien asks directly, “What are you not telling me?”

Then it fades as his mouth sets in a grim line. “You’re not his son.” 

“What?”

Eris doesn’t repeat himself, instead choosing to let Lucien work it out. His brain struggles to piece together memories from long ago, left behind even before he was killed. Finally, the pieces fit. 

“I was never meant to be happy.” He surmises quietly. 

“No,” Eris agrees, “he never would have allowed it.”  

A hysterical laugh starts to build in his chest. It claws and rages to escape. He tries to rein it in but it comes out as a desperate sob. 

Eris’s hand trembles at his side, it jerks once or twice towards him. As if the older Vanserra wanted nothing more than to pull his brother into a hug. “I’m sorry. I should have found out sooner. I should have found a way to warn you… but it was all too late by the time I realised there was a hit out on you.” 

Lucien shakes his head, “I don’t blame you. Never did. Besides, you helped put him away.” 

This time, Eris smiles. Cold and vengeful. “Best moment of my life.” 

Lucien snorts. Of that, he has no doubt. 

That bastard deserved it. 

===

Lucien stands before Elain as the clock continues to tick down to twelve. Every year he felt the pull to the beyond but every year, he ignored it. This year, the pull will be impossible to resist and he knows it. 

Knew it the moment Eris left. No, knew it the moment Elain told him what happened to Beron. 

He throws a glance at the clock. Two minutes. 

“Elain”

She turns those expressive, rich brown eyes on him and Lucien is gone. The pain, the acceptance but at the same time, the pride. Everything is laid clear for Lucien to see and it wrenches at him. 

“Thank you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion, “for bringing me back to life. I was so lost before and I didn’t even know it.” He brings one hand towards her face, cupping it impulsively. Incredibly, they make contact. The feel of her skin, soft and warm underneath his. She closes her eyes and leans into the touch. 

“Thank you,” she says, opening to reveal teary eyes, “for bringing joy and humour to my life. I don’t think I ever realised how lonely I was… before you.”

He strokes a thumb and wipes away a fallen tear. He brings his face closer and leans in to capture her lips. There is a gasp before Elain returns it fiercely. They meet each other, tongue for tongue, teeth for teeth. Every emotion they have left to convey, laid bare at their feet.

They kiss until the pull tugs at Lucien again. Hard and insistent. Reluctantly, he breaks contact. His forehead pressed against hers as he held it back for a final second. Until finally, russet meets brown for the last time as he fades away into a bright, shimmering aureate light. 

===

Many, many years into the future

Elain plasters on a polite smile as the suit clad men and women huddle together for a brief discussion. Months and months of blood, sweat and tears have come down to this every moment. Her career is made if they select her proposal. 

She keeps on the smile as they thank her and dismiss her with empty promises about reaching out. As she walks out of the boardroom, the door on the other side opens to bring in the next candidate. Her rival. Elain turns over, curious. 

Her mind is wiped utterly blank in his presence. His strong stride as he walks towards the presenter’s laptop. She stares, entranced at how his long auburn hair and golden brown skin complements his suit perfectly, how the perfectly tailored suit reveals everything and nothing about the powerful muscles rippling underneath. Even then, it almost pales in contrast when she takes in the strong lines of his face. So beautiful it takes her breath away in the process. 

Then he looks up and catches her in her unabashed gawking. Russet eyes blaze into her and pins her in place. But slowly, surely, those sensual lips pull up into a cocky smirk and it knocks Elain back into the boardroom where the receptionist is still holding the door open for her. 

Clearing her throat, she feels her cheek warm as she mutters a hasty apology and exits the room. She never looks back again although she knows with a concrete certainty. 

Whoever that man is, that will not be the last she sees of him. 

End

A/N: If you're curious, Jenna Coleman's Johanna Constantine in Sandman was definitely what I had in mind for exorcist Elain👻

[starfall-spirit]

One Happy Family

Gift fic for @the-lost-changeling

Read on Ao3

Word Count: 858

Summary: Returning home from an emissary mission in Autumn, Gwyn finds her mate rigging their most recent competition, and not in the way she expected.

AN: The Autumn Gwyn theories don't have much substance, but I like them, so we're rolling with it.

"You're jumpy this evening, Gwyneth." Her eyes snapped to the High Lord's. Eris was intimidating at times, if not for his power, then for the fact he was difficult to read, always seeming bored or amused by whoever he faced. "Trouble back home?"

Always ready to pounce on weakness, growing allies or not. More than once she had wished Rhys found another way to secure Beron in the war.

"You were made aware of my reasons for needing a replacement these past months. It's not easy to be separated from your first child," she confessed.

"Yes, my congratulations," he muttered, scrawling his signature before gathering the paperwork in front of him. "Make sure this hits Rhysand's desk tonight." She raised her eyebrow. "Please."

At least he could be that courteous.

“I will. Unfortunately, I’m still unable to winnow, if you don’t mind taking me to the border.”

Azriel would be home with their infant, but Feyre promised either she or Rhys would be waiting at the edge of the territory they had arranged with Eris in the past. “Of course.” A sweep of wind and they were folding through space, renewing the queasiness she could never quite master. “Good evening, Gwyneth. Rhysand.”

He left without another word. “Thanks for coming to get me, Rhys.”

“Of course. I take it that paperwork is for Feyre and me?” She nodded. “Does it say anything I can tolerate reading at this hour?”

She snorted. “For two High Lords trying to find an alliance, neither of you are very tolerant of the other’s requests.”

Rhys grimaced. Eris had come to power three years ago, revealing Gwyn’s watered-down heritage to Autumn nobility mere months later. Though the Autumn Court had some very backward beliefs about their females, the new High Lord knew better than to meddle with Gwyn’s place in things, especially with the bond between her and Azriel so fresh. Rather than release noble ties completely, he proposed she be Night’s emissary to Autumn. 

And thus began an endless back and forth between Eris and the monarchs of Night.

“We’ll get there,” Rhys muttered. “Hold on.” Folding into shadows, he winnowed them straight into the heart of Velaris, where Gwyn and Azriel had found a modest apartment of their own that overlooked the Sidra River. It was a short walk—and shorter flight—to the House of Wind and Riverhouse their family members occupied and hosted from. “Have a good evening, Gwyn.”

She tightened her grip a bit on the papers when he started to take them. “I know there are plenty of moral disagreements between you. Maybe if there were some minor things you could overlook Eris would be more agreeable to your own demands. It takes all three of you to build an alliance. If you and Feyre might consider—”

“I’ll talk to her.” The paperwork vanished, presumably to his office or room for he and Feyre to view soon. “Thank you. I know neither side of this makes your job easy. And I do hate dragging you away from Catrin. Give her love from her uncle, will you?”

She nodded and he winnowed once again, leaving her to step into the warmth of her home. Afraid to wake her daughter at this hour, she crept in on silent feet. Then two words reached her just before she turned into the family room.

“Say Mama?”

Her breath caught. 

She and Az had always had a competitive streak. From their early days training, to the scattered moments between her friendship blooming with Nesta and the beginning of Azriel’s courtship, there had always been something. A skill to master, a goal to meet, a game to win.

The most recent… Who’s name Catrin would say first.

Faerie younglings developed so slowly in comparison to humans that it could be anywhere from weeks to months before their daughter spoke. Plenty of time for them to sway her learning towards one phrase or another. It was also commonly known that children were quicker to take to the D sound than the M. Azriel had every advantage with her work taking her outside of the court again.

She peeked around the doorway, watching the pair. Catrin had her mothers coppery hair and her father’s hazel eyes. She was the most beautiful thing Gwyn had ever seen. And there tucked into the warmth of her father’s chest and wing she was all the more lovely.

She watched as Azriel reached up again to point at the family portrait Feyre had gifted them upon Catrin’s birth. The pose was stunning, depicting Gwyn and Az forehead to forehead, smiling down on a bundle of pink, little fingers already seeming to reach for the shelter of the wings above them.

His finger paused in front of Gwyn’s face. “Mama. Right there.” Catrin cooed softly. “Yes, Your mama is away doing some work for Uncle Rhys and Aunt Feyre, but she’ll be home soon, little one.”

He turned slowly, pausing when he spotted Gwyn with her head just past the threshold. “Well, now we both know who’s going to win this little contest,” he said.

“Do we? Or have you just reversed the game?”

[captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship]

Men pay a lot of money to get their name into Gwyn's exclusive black book - enough that, with careful planning, she's putting herself through law school debt-free. Once she's graduated, she can retire the high heels and little black dresses and get to work in the pursuit of justice that she and her sister never received.

Azriel Singer's profile intrigues her, with a smile that never shines in his eyes and a delectable body. But will his attitude get in the way of any future potential?

I am so fortunate to be chosen to write Ch.2 of this fic for the ACOTAR Writing Circle 3 that has been coordinated by the amazing @azrielshadowssing

Part 1 was written by the incredible @hlizr50 and I hope I did this work justice!

Here is the link to Part 2, or read below!

TW: mentions of SA

ONE MONTH LATER

This had been a month from Hell. Gwyn was all but dying as she turned in her final assignment of the semester, thankful that she had somehow found the time to study and work a few extra nights of the week. 

Gwyn had met with Tarquin the day after the disastrous meeting with Azriel. He was sweet and her saving grace over the last month. He didn’t want anything more than what she was used to offering - just a few weekends of fun. She made her rent with some cash to spare just from him alone.

 It was all fine, but Gwyn couldn’t stop herself from venturing to Azriel’s profile, perplexed at what kind of bullshit someone had to go through in order to be such a massive asshole. He was hot, sure, and the kind of rich that would make paying off her college tuition look like a drop in the bucket. Had he been even a little less of dick, she might have milked him for all he was worth. 

So fuck him. 

But still… she couldn’t delete his profile off of her contact list. Couldn’t break that single connection to the man who equally perplexed and infuriated her. 

Gwyn’s phone pinged, bringing her out of her stupor and back to reality. Her group chat with Nesta and Emerie consisted of funny memes, gossip, and the only source of true fun Gwyn had had in ages.

Nesta:

Let's go out tonight to celebrate! 

Gwyn:

I am exhausted, Nesta. Maybe next time?

Gwyn entered her apartment and collapsed on the couch, ready to pass out and allow herself the bliss of sleep. Her phone went off again, and she silently cursed as she read the next message.

Emerie:

Take a nap and then join us! It isn’t everyday that you finish your second year of Law School, let alone in the top five of your class. You are a shoe in for any internship in the country. Take the evening off and just live a little! 

Gwyn thought about it. When was the last time she really spent time with her best friends? Her weekends were filled with being whisked away on private jets to sunny beaches with Tarquin and her week days were jammed with studying and writing paper after paper. She had some money left over, and with this break coming up she could take on more clients than usual to get ahead of her bills. 

Gwyn:

Fine, you win. Now you guys leave me be for the next 6 hours and then we can meet at Rita’s at 9pm? 

Nesta:

YES! Finally!!!! First shot’s on me ;)

Emerie:

WOOOOOOO! 

Emerie:

Ok, love. Get some sleep, because tonight we PARTY!

Gwyn chuckled at their enthusiasm, and it wasn’t long before she set her alarm and passed out- content and excited for the night to come. 

----

Gwyn, Nesta and Emerie strode into the club and headed straight for the bar opposite the dancefloor. 

“Three tequila shots and lime, thanks.” Nesta said, gesturing to the male bartender, Balthazar. She had taken a martial arts class with him when they all attended Velaris University and he always hooked the girls up when they came in. He just smiled and brought them right over, ignoring the guys who seemed to be attempting to flag him down to bring them some beers. Nesta just gave them one of her cold smiles and they shut right up.

“Here you go ladies.” Balthazar crooned as he dropped 4 shots of tequila and a small bowl of limes down in front of them. He smiled at Gwyn kindly and she was alway happy to see a friendly, male face whenever she was here. “I haven’t seen you in a while, Gwyn. Finally crawling out of your den to join us in the land of the drunk and living?”

“If only you knew the half of it. I’m literally bending over backwards to finish this degree. You try finding the time to make the dean’s honors list in Law School, work your ass off, and still look this good in heels after a final’s week from hell.” Gwyn retorted back. 

His gaze dropped to said heels appreciatively. Perhaps it took a moment longer than necessary for his eyes to crawl back up her legs to her smirking features, but Gwyn wasn’t complaining. He just put his hands up in silent surrender and passed out the shots to all of us. 

Nesta held her glass out in a toast. “To the shit we have seen, and the shit to come. At least the booze and company are worth it all.” They all grabbed a lime slice, clinked their shots together, and knocked them back. Gwyn savored the heat of the tequila running down her throat. 

As she slammed her glass down on the bar victoriously, Gwyn could feel someone watching her. Her neck tingled as a gaze- hard and determined- bore into her back. Turning towards the dancefloor, she scanned the room until her eyes landed on a pair of familiar hazel ones. Ones that she had ogled in fascination all month behind the comfort of her phone screen.

Azriel was standing there and staring directly at her. No trepidation. No hint of shyness about him all. 

She couldn’t read his expression from so far away, but she could feel his eyes raking down her body - noticing her tight cobalt outfit. The skirt barely covered her most intimate areas and her crop top wrapped around the curve of her body as though it were tailored just for her. The fabric shimmered under the club lights, giving the illusion of moonlight on an ocean wave.  

His gaze sent electricity sparking up Gwyn’s spine. For the first time in a long time, she felt exposed under his attention. Once Azriel’s eyes met hers again, she remembered the reason they were in this predicament and turned her back to him - deciding to ignore the source of her current vexation for the rest of the night. 

Despite her best efforts to ignore him, Gwyn couldn’t help but feel Azriel’s piercing gaze on her back the entire time. 

She just ordered another round of shots from Balthazar, whose doting attention was not unnoticed. When the shot glasses of vodka arrived, she turned around to see Azriel sitting in a booth on the other side of the club with two people she hadn’t taken notice of before. The man was as large as a tank. His long hair was tied up in a messy bun and Gwyn could spot some black swirling tattoos peeking out from the open buttons of his black dress shirt. 

The woman, sitting on the other side of the long-haired man, was one of the most stunning women Gwyn had ever seen. Surely a model, her golden blonde hair fell in waves around her face and down her back. She was wearing a deep gold top that just barely covered her chest, with chains at the neck and back leaving her tanned skin utterly exposed. Her matching skirt had her shining like a gilded sunset.

“Looks like you have a secret admirer, Gwyn.” Nesta teased from beside her. 

Gwyn scowled in reply, content to follow out her plans to have fun and not think about work for a night. Or for that matter, a pair of hazel eyes that saw entirely too much and a broad muscular form that appeared as though it were carved by a Renaissance artist. Why did he have to be such an asshole? Gwyn hated him for it.

“His friends aren’t so bad to look at, either,” Emerie said. I turned to look at her and found her eying Azriel’s blonde friend with predatory intent. She smiled a little to herself. Although Gwyn was determined not to get any tonight, she wouldn’t stop her friends if they wished to partake in a one-night stand. 

Perhaps it was reckless, but Gwyn couldn’t help but stare Azriel in the eye as she took her shot, not bothering with a chaser. He leaned forward in his seat - his eyes tracking the small drop that seemed to escape Gwyn’s lips and ran down the side of her mouth. She wiped it with her thumb and sucked it off- refusing to let her gaze fall from his. Gwyn just winked at him and turned back to her friends. 

She hoped he felt the same lick of fire creep up her depths and ricochet through her spine. She wondered if the air had gone thick with heat and tension for him as well. But Gwyn didn’t chance another glance over to him. 

This was war, and she was determined to win. 

“Let's go dance.” Was all she said, and her friends followed in tow.

----- 

The dance floor was packed tonight. Rita’s was only a few blocks away from the university, so everyone was trying to make the most of their end of semester celebrations. The girls found their way to the middle of the dance floor and started jumping and swaying with the music. For a while, Gwyn forgot about the pair of hazel eyes that had been watching her all night. 

At some point, Nesta had spotted the man who had come with Azriel, and she left without a further glance at them. 

He was exactly her type: bold, dominant, and from the way he laughed, he was definitely a teddy bear at heart. Gwyn and Emerie started laughing to themselves at how the man’s jaw seemed to drop when he saw Nesta approaching him. When they approached each other, drifting as though attached to some magnetic force, the gaze they shared was so intimate, Gwyn almost looked away - but the liquor in her system had robbed her of that courtesy. 

“How much do you want to bet that Nesta will be waking up in his bed in the morning?” Emerie joked, yelling slightly over the loud music. 

“They are either going to hate each other or be inseparable. Time to start writing the wedding invitations now.” Gwyn yelled back. Both girls fell into a fit of giggles as they casually watched Nesta and man start dancing with each other at the edge of the dancefloor.

A few more songs passed by, and Gwyn was fully entranced by the music and tequila. She hadn’t had enough to be drunk, but she did have just enough to loosen her inhibitions. Maybe that was why she had teased Azriel relentlessly at the bar. Gwyn looked over to Emerie who seemed to be distracted, continuously staring at the blonde woman who had come with Azriel. It seemed the woman was staring at her right back. 

“Go shoot your shot, Em. I will be fine. I was hoping to leave in a few songs anyways.” Gwyn said with teasing encouragement. 

Emerie looked nervous, chewing on her lip as her eyes scanned Gwyn. “Are you sure? What if she isn’t into girls?”

Gwyn just squeezed her arm in gentle encouragement, “You will never know unless you go up to her and ask.” 

Emerie stayed until the end of the song, trying to dance away her nerves. When one song flowed into another, she said, “Ok. I’m going. Are you sure you are gonna get home safe?” Gwyn knew Emerie was just trying to stall the inevitable, so she just laughed in return. “I’ll be fine, Em. Go. I will text you and Nesta when I get home.” It was always their unspoken rule. Every time they went out, they would text the group where they were headed after the club. It also helped that the girls shared their phone locations with each other - just in case. 

Emerie took a deep breath and turned towards the booth where the blonde was sitting, only to find it empty now. Looking around confused, Gwyn couldn’t help but feel bad for Emerie when all of a sudden her friend turned behind her to find the blonde tapping her shoulder. 

“Want to dance?” The blonde said, a warm smile washing over her face as she held out her hand. 

Emerie took it without hesitation, “I would like that.” 

Gwyn waved them off as she continued to dance by herself, just enjoying the flow of the music through her veins. 

She told herself she would stay for two more songs, make sure her friends were ok, and then head home to change into sweats, eat ice cream, and stream Grey’s on Netflix thanks to Nesta sharing her account with Gwyn. 

Midway through the penultimate song, a pair of hands gripped onto Gwyn’s waist. They were rough and felt wrong. The man pulled himself close, trying to dance with Gwyn but she was not in the mood to be manhandled today. 

She tried to turn out of the man’s grip, to shuffle away with a swift turn to the beat, but the guy just squeezed her waist tighter and tighter until she was being pulled against her will. 

Memories flashed through Gwyn’s mind. 

Dancing at a freshman year frat party. Another man’s hands on her waist. Her saying no as he brought her into a spare bedroom and took what he wanted from her. 

Gwyn stood frozen in fear, unable to say anything. She knew self-defense, of course. She had met Nesta and Emerie at a self defense course for women who had been through trauma. But there were too many people around her and she didn’t want to risk hurting anyone else. 

She tried to pry the dude’s fingers off of her waist, but he just leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Want to go home with me tonight, princess? That pretty outfit would look even better on the floor of my bedroom.” 

Gwyn shuddered in absolute disgust. What kind of douche just asks if you want to sleep with him without even introducing himself?

“I’m good, thanks. I was actually just heading out. Have a good night.” Gwyn tried to escape his grasp again, but he just held tighter and started roaming his hands down her sides. 

“Come on, Princess. It will be fun. What do you say?” he said in her other ear. His beer breath bombarded her nose and all but made her gag. Gwyn just about had it with him and was about to damn the consequences, but suddenly those hands were jerked off of her. 

In a startled haze, Gwyn turned only to find Azriel pulling the man off of her by the collar of his shirt. “The lady said she isn’t interested.” Azriel all but growled at the guy. 

The guy stared up at Azriel and balked. Azriel stood a whole head taller than him, and the look on his face would send most people running in the opposite direction. 

Gwyn couldn’t help but think that that look was kinda hot. Couldn’t help but bite her lip as heat swam through her depths, replacing the icy nausea that had made a home there just moments ago. 

The guy just stared between Azriel and Gwyn in shock. He didn’t wait around, sparing her a scoff and leaving. Azriel turned to Gwyn, his dark gaze roaming over her. Looking to see if she was hurt, she realized. 

“Are you ok?” He asked, taking a step towards her. 

That set Gwyn into motion. She took a step back, flicked her hair over her shoulder in fake bravado, and said cooly, “I’m fine. Thanks for the help.” 

She turned over her shoulder and walked right out of the club and into the cool summer breeze. 

----

She was in the middle of texting the girls and calling an uber when the club doors swung open beside her. Azriel walked out the doors in a frantic huff. He turned frantically in place until he noticed her leaning against the brick storefront, then all but ran towards her in a frenzy. 

“What the hell!?” He said in a panicked voice. “Why did you leave? I was looking everywhere for you.” 

Something tickled Gwyn’s nerves. On the one hand, it was sweet that he was looking for her. So at odds with the asshole she had interviewed with last month. On the other hand… “Why? Just cause I am an escort doesn’t mean that you are entitled to my time.”

“I know, but-”

She cut him off before he could give some bullshit excuse. “You made it perfectly clear the last time we met that you wanted nothing to do with me. So what the fuck was all that inside?” She crossed her arms over her chest in frustration. 

Azriel cringed at her comment. He loosed a sigh and looked down. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took in a shaky breath before he opened them to meet hers. “I’m sorry for how I treated you that day. I’ve been going through a rough time. My friends set me up and although their intentions are good, I wasn’t in the right headspace. Would you let me take you somewhere so I can explain?” His eyes were pleading. He actually looked sincere. 

This emotional rollercoaster was taking Gwyn for a loop. She shook her head and scoffed. “I was just groped by a random dude in the club. What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you right now?” 

Azriel’s eyes darkened with rage. He kept it bottled in as he said, “At least let me take you home. Maybe grab some food on the way? I just want to explain. Start over.” 

Gwyn didn’t want to deal with this right now. She was at her wits end and just wanted to go home. “Why do you even care, Azriel? We met once, you were an ass, and life moved on. Just leave me be.”

Gwyn was done. 

She was done with men who thought they were entitled to her because she sold her time and body. But there were still hers. 

Hers to choose who to spend her time with.

Hers to choose when to give it. 

But always her choice. 

Gwyn started to turn to walk down the street and put some distance between her and Azriel, but he grabbed her wrist to stop her. His grip was light and she could easily shake him off if she wanted to but something inside her was telling her to stay. To listen. 

“Please, Gwyn. Just give me a chance to explain. If I can’t convince you to give me a second chance by the time I drop you off at home, you will never hear from me again. You can have anything you want, just- please.” 

Gwyn stared at his eyes, and whatever she saw there made her sigh in resignation. She could ask for anything. A lot of her problems could be fixed with that kind of offer. She pulled out her phone and texted Nesta and Emerie.

Gwyn:

Taking a detour on my way home. Be safe!

She clicked off her phone and looked Azriel in the eyes, “Lead the way then, Singer.”

[vulpes-fennec]

Deck the Halls (Gwynriel) 🎁

Summary: A series of fluffy/smutty ACOTAR winter one-shots! 12 stories for the 12 days leading up to Solstice (December 21).

Gwyn and Azriel have some fun with Solstice decorations in a smutty fashion.

Warnings: Smut, roleplay, oral sex (m/f receiving), cumshot

Read: Masterlist | AO3

After seeing Azriel readjust Cassian’s tasteless attempts to decorate the House of Wind, Gwyn had an idea. 

She and Azriel had plans to decorate their little apartment today. Her mate had even lugged home a handsome fir tree and was currently setting it up in their living room. Gwyn told him to start without her, for her head hurt and she needed to take a 30-minute nap.

That was a little white lie. 

After clicking the lock shut, Gwyn shimmied out of her winter layers. She tied a bow around her chest with a red ribbon—the very kind Azriel was using as decoration outside—that barely covered her pale white breasts. A thick pine and holly wreath rested on her hips, revealing only a sliver of her lacy red panties underneath. 

Gwyn even added a garland of little mints around her neck. She threw on a miniature, fluffy white tree skirt over her head. It looked like a shawl, which was exactly what she was going for. What else was she missing? Oh, right. The headband with an ornamental star glued on top, with poinsettia flowers tucked behind her ear as a finishing touch.

Her plan was to walk in on Azriel with a Solstice decoration-themed outfit. 

Staring at her slightly mismatched appearance in the mirror, Gwyn felt apprehensive. What if Azriel didn’t catch on? What if he laughed at her ridiculous attempt to seduce him? But one of his shadows floated into the room and bobbed in excitement. Its approval gave Gwyn the boost of confidence she needed as she stepped out. 

“Are you feeling better, my love?” Azriel called from the living room, his back turned to her as he hung an ornamental ball on the tree. 

Hearing no response, he turned around. 

Azriel’s jaw slackened as he took in the sight of her. “Excuse me, sir, I need a little help adjusting these decorations,” Gwyn said, blinking her big teal eyes with wicked innocence. 

Azriel’s hazel gaze darkened as it dropped down to her lacy panties peeking out from under the pine wreath. “Some adjustment, you say?” 

“Yes,” Gwyn replied breathlessly. “I heard you were the most renowned decorator in Velaris, and wanted to see how your skills fared.” The shadowsinger approached her, tree decorating all forgotten. 

“Is this all for me?” Azriel murmured, walking behind her. She let out a little gasp as he ran his tongue along her collarbone, tasting the minty garland around her neck. Azriel’s scarred hands—cool to the touch—cupped her bare waist.

“Yes, shadowsinger.” Gods, Azriel loved his mate so much. Gwyn was adorned with Solstice decorations, and he wanted nothing more than to fling them off and kiss her senseless after scenting her arousal. But he wanted to draw it out. If she wanted to be a tease, he could be one as well. 

He turned Gwyn around to face him, running a hand over her fluffy shawl—wait, was it a tree skirt? Azriel chuckled. “You did a very beautiful job decorating, Miss Berdara. But I do have to make some adjustments. You see, this wreath,” he traced the outline of her lacy waistband under the wreath, “should be placed higher up.”

“I’d rather you get rid of it completely.” Azriel’s silken words were driving her crazy. Crazy enough for Gwyn to unbutton his shirt, popping the last few buttons in her haste. Azriel raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Well…that was very unprofessional of you,” he drawled. “I didn’t know I offered shirtless services.” Gwyn blushed. 

“To hell with professionalism. I’ll give you a nice tip if I’m happy with your work.” Gwyn said with a wink. 

“Very well then. I’ll be sure to leave the lady satisfied.” Azriel shrugged his black shirt off, revealing Illyrian tattoos and muscled abdomen in their full glory. He pressed a chaste kiss to Gwyn’s lips, before ripping the garland in two. Pine needles and holly berries scattered across their living room floor, but he didn’t care. They could clean that up later. 

Gwyn smiled against his mouth. Azriel was just as hurried as she was. He just did a better job of hiding it. 

His rough hands brushed over her stomach and traced lazy circles on her back. “I think this tree skirt belongs somewhere else,” Azriel said quietly as he fumbled with the buttons. 

“I think you should remove it altogether.” Gwyn mumbled back while kissing his neck. Azriel groaned when the shawl dropped away. He was already hard as hell, but the sight of his Gwyn, his precious Gwyn, in lacy red panties and a scanty ribbon nearly sent him over the edge. 

He skimmed a finger along the bottom of the ribbon, savoring the smooth curve of her breast. Gwyn whimpered, a delightful sound that made him feral with lust. Azriel did it again, smirking when Gwyn arched her back into him.

“This ribbon is a bit tight,” Azriel observed, his voice low. “Mind if I loosen it?”

“Not at all.” Gwyn’s chest heaved with anticipated breath as Azriel undid the bow with a tug. She caught the ribbon as before it fell, looping it around Azriel’s neck and using it to pull him in for a fiery kiss. 

The shadowsinger reciprocated her energy, picking her up and walking her back to their bedroom. Gwyn knew she was supposed to play the coy client, but she couldn’t help wrapping her legs around his waist and grinding herself against his erection a bit. 

Azriel gently set her down on their bed, leaving a trail of kisses on her neck and shoulders.  He broke away, pulling down Gwyn’s lacy panties. Azriel’s finger entered Gwyn easily, and she moaned when he slipped a second finger in.

“So wet for me, baby,” he murmured against her bare thigh. Gwyn’s musky scent and her pretty moans only incentivized Azriel to bring her to new heights of pleasure. 

“Will you let the expert have a little taste?”

“Please, Azriel,” Gwyn cried. She threw her head back, whining as his hot tongue skillfully ran up her clit. Her long legs were thrown over the shadowsinger’s shoulders, shaking as he alternated between dipping his tongue into her pussy, fingering her clit, and kissing her inner thighs. 

“Fuck,” she panted as her core tightened. Gwyn tried to buck her hips against his face, but Azriel’s slick hands held her still. “Azriel, please. Oh, fuck. Don’t stop, don’t stop—AZRIEL!” 

Azriel took a deep breath before pressing his face—and his tongue—into Gwyn’s pussy. His thumb continued to rub her clit, drawing out her orgasm as she clenched around his tongue. To be honest, she could suffocate him between her legs and he would die a happy male. 

Gwyn was spent when Azriel stood up, but she needed to push through. She wanted to leave her mate just as breathless. “Not so fast, shadowsinger,” she said, grabbing his hand. “Don’t forget about your tip.”  

Azriel could scarcely believe his eyes when Gwyn got down on her knees and unlaced his pants. “You’re my favorite client,” he groaned when her tongue swirled around him. “You’re doing so well, Gwyn.” 

Even though Azriel had just finished cleaning her up with his tongue, Gwyn could feel herself getting wet again at his praise. She alternated between stroking his cock and sucking him off, eliciting more groans from Azriel with the changes in friction.

Azriel leaned against the side of their bed, fisting the sheets. He didn’t want to grab Gwyn’s hair or the back of her head as he normally would. If anything, seeing her pure enthusiasm when pleasuring him, with her pretty coppery head bobbing and her hand deftly stroking him, sent him barreling towards the end.

“Shit, Gwyn.” His voice was hoarse. Azriel clenched his fists harder. “Shit, I’m going to come.” Gwyn’s teal eyes widened in alarm at his warning and she stopped twisting her wrist. But Azriel couldn’t hold it in any longer.

She was just about to put his cock back into her mouth when Azriel ejaculated over her face. His mate gasped. Gwyn’s mouth gaped open, one eye squinted shut as hot cum ran down her forehead, nose, and cheek. Her other eye was open, catching Azriel’s aghast expression. 

It was the first time something like this had happened between them. 

“Oh gods, Gwyn, I’m so sorry.” Azriel broke character immediately. His mate was still frozen, stunned. Not every female appreciated the move—some felt it was demeaning, others simply disliked having cum on their face. “I’m so sorry, my love. I’ll clean you up.”  

He returned with a damp washcloth and nearly choked when he saw Gwyn swipe cum off her cheek, bringing it to her mouth. “No, no,” he said, gently wiping her face. “You don’t have to do that, Gwyn.”

Gwyn only giggled, all awkwardness gone. “I guess you ended up adding a decoration of your own,” she said, eyes twinkling with mischief. 

Azriel flushed. “Would you be upset if I thought it was hot?” he asked after a pause, cleaning the last bit of his cum from her forehead.

“Which one? Me wearing only Solstice decorations or the cumshot?” Azriel turned even redder at Gwyn’s casual use of lewd language. He shouldn’t have been surprised; his mate went through smutty books on a weekly basis. 

“Both?” he asked warily. 

Gwyn touched his face in reassurance. “It was…unexpected, but I wouldn’t mind if you did it again, Az. As long as you don’t get any in my hair. Because I’d have to wash it.” 

“You know I have great aim,” Azriel said dryly, tugging his pants on and sitting down on the bed. 

Gwyn giggled again. “I know you do. Your dagger throwing and archery skills are proof of that already.” She took a poinsettia flower out of her hair and tucked it behind her mate’s ear. “You look very cute like this,” she said, kissing him. “My shadowsinger.”

Azriel grinned openly. He pulled Gwyn onto his lap, running his hands along her naked body. “You look cute too, priestess. Especially with this.” He gently flicked the star ornament on her headband. “Thank you…I thoroughly enjoyed this surprise.” 

Gwyn snuggled close into Azriel’s bare chest. “I had fun, too. But to be honest, I couldn’t wait for you to take everything off. The decorations were getting really itchy,” Gwyn confessed. 

Azriel laughed softly. “Noted. I’ll move faster next time, my love.”