yiiyiiwrites

[yiiyiiwrites]

Taking a little break from tumblr to grieve ❤️‍🩹 will be back soon.

I had lots of fics planned but my minds mush and can’t focus at the moment.

[yiiyiiwrites]

| Weight in gold |

Summary: Azriel's curious about the absence of your wings and if the loss of them is a heavier weight to carry. 2349words

Azriel x Seraphim reader (hurt/angst/comfort).

[Acotar masterlist]

With every century that passed, the same dull ache remained. The coldness of winter in Velaris rattled your bones and pushed against your spine. This time of year did nothing, but remind you of the part of you, you lost. The last part connecting you to your mother.

The only way to soothe the constant shooting pain down your shoulder blades was having a steaming bath. Windows fogged up that even Azriel's shadows fought to make themselves seen.

"How bad is it, my love?" Azriel asked, crouching down by the bath tub and slinging his arm behind you on the edge. He's careful not to touch you, even the dark wisps accompanying him hover beside him as if there’s a shield around you keeping them out.

You suck in a breath, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. The scalding water lapping against your back, if you stayed sitting up the numb tingles would wither away to nothing, but it was not a total fix.

“It��s bearable,” you whispered, gaze cast down to the oils swirling on top of the surface of water.

Without looking at Azriel you can tell he doesn’t believe you. His pointer finger chasing the curls of oil in the bath, at times like this he’s more silent than ever. You peeked out of the corner of your eye, his face as hard as stone. A line setting between his thick brows and sharp line pulling his jaw.

You drew your legs closer to your chest, arms wrapping around them and chin resting on top of your knees. The cloudy glass of the window pane glistened as the warm glow of lights danced in the horizon.

Azriel had asked you many times about the Seraphim’s and Cretea, but you always withdrew. The light dwindling from your eyes and voice lowering that he did not push it further. You’d found history books tucked away between other books, parchments and rolled maps hiding the titles.

The only time your mate had caught a of glimpse of your past self was during training. You’d catch his lingering gaze as your Seraphim blades cut through the air, the thin light metal singing in the wind. He said you moved liked lightning, fast and powerful strikes.

“Would you prefer to go to summer? Or maybe dawn?” Azriel asked, wrapping a fluffy towel around you as you stepped out the bath. It’s warmth enveloping you, but you’d much rather your mates arms. He doesn’t touch you though, afraid you’ll shatter in his hold and maybe you think the same. Like a bird with a broken wing, you want to nurse yourself until you can’t feel the numbing pain.

You glanced over your shoulder at him, instantly regretting the abrupt movement. “I want to be here, with you.”

Azriel doesn’t miss a beat, his hands dug through the drawer retrieving your night clothes. “I know, but a warmer climate might help you.” He crouched down, helping you step into your nighty and pulled it up your legs and over your hips.

The silk glided over your skin, your arms easily slipping the thin straps over your shoulders. The fabric light and soft against your back. “I can handle the pain, what I can’t handle is being away a whole season without my mate.” You pressed your lips against his cheek as he rose from the floor.

“I can visit or work from…”

You shook your head, walking around the bed and rolling the duvet back on your designated side. A few books stacked on the side table, a dagger wedged into one particular hardback cover you hated.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you smoothed your palm over the lumpy pillow. You flinched as a sharp point pricked your finger, the tiniest bit of fluff sprouting through the soft weaved cotton. Plucking the feather, you traced curve of your palm.

Azriel had never seen you in all your glory. Your wings were once your greatest pride, before they were ripped away during the war. You’d spent centuries licking your wounds, pushing yourself to train harder on Cretea.

Wings as white as the clouds you used to skim with your fingertips during every flight. You wished you could feel the wind ruffling each feather, but did not miss the downpour of rain that clung to them. Once you hated the scent of rain, now you wanted to be able to complain about not being able to get rid of the stench.

Azriel made you love the rain, but part of you still loathed it. The way he’d fix your wet hair and shield you from the heavy downpour with his own wings, reminding you of the depths of a cave. Darkness swirling around you, but his eyes were like the sun at dusk peeking through the shadows.

Sometimes you caught yourself watching the rain racing down Azriel’s wings, his shadows chasing after them as if they knew you were looking. You wondered if he had noticed the way your gaze lingered on his wings, always tugging you forward so you never walked behind him.

A deep sigh pulled you out of your trance, Azriel knelt down in front of you, his hazel eyes followed the feather as you trailed it along his jaw line. Dark wisps twirled around your wrist, but they did not stop your movements.

“What are you thinking?” Azriel mused, a light chuckle rumbling his chest and blowing his shadows away from his face. His hands resting either side of your knees, thumbs brushing your thighs.

“I used to be great you know,” you whispered, not daring to meet his gaze.

The pain you carried otherworldly, like you’d died and been reborn again. The absence of weight on your back, set you off balance and rearranged everything in the world as you knew it. People looked at you differently, they offered you sympathy much more instead of awe.

It wasn’t just the loss of your wings, but the weight of gold. The shining armour you hadn’t worn since you left Cretea a few years ago and moved in with Azriel.

The only thing you could carry were your Seraphim blades, one still hidden under your pillow as if you were still sleeping in a war tent. Sometimes you’d wake covered in sweat, thinking you were still in midst of war. Shadows comforting you and bringing you back to the present.

“You still are great, arrows or not.”

Azriel’s voice firm and clear as his finger slipped the strap of your nighty to the side and tapped the cluster wounds on your right shoulder and chest. He’d once told you how they looked exactly like a constellation of stars he used to stare at in the Illyrian mountains.

Your breath trembled, feather escaping your grasp and hand thudding to the mattress. So, he had read of your history only now confessing what he knew. You wondered how far he’d gone, how detailed the text were based on the tales shared with others.

Did your mate see you like the other Seraphim warriors? Or the shell of the thing you had become?

“Seven arrows,” Azriel mused as he joined each wound together with his touch. “There’s texts about you crawling through battlefield and still tasting victory. Of all the things you’ve done it’s your courage and will that has been spoke of. Wings do not bestow that.”

The tears tumbling down your cheeks stung, but the sobs that rack your body pulled that tight string across your shoulder blades. The muscle memory wanting to curl your wings around your form and protect you, but they were not there. The emptiness felt like a dry well, a pebble dropping down and echoing against the depths of the grounds it fell to. And it took everything within you, to straighten your spine and wipe away the tears.

“My darkest days were on the ground, but then I met you.” You’d repeated the phrase to Azriel, his shadows tucking themselves behind him as if they did not want to darken your thoughts or your days.

The heights gave you no limits, but the earth beneath your feet did nothing but try to bury you.

His rough palm cupped your cheek and you leant into his warmth, savouring the gentle touch. Even though darkness surrounded you both, he remained as your beacon of light.

Your limbs felt heavy, the potent brewed tea Madja had made you finally working its magic. “My darkest days…” you mumbled, the warmth of Azriel’s hand left your cheek and you sunk into the pillow, eyelids fluttering shut. “On the ground, before you.”

·•✦•·

Azriel combed his fingers through your hair and tied it up in a knot.

“I wish I could have known you then, but now is enough. You are enough and more.” He whispered, hoping the pain had slid away for you. The past few nights you hadn’t slept well, he’d found you falling asleep at the desk in his office or at the dining table.

“Rhys knows.”

He couldn’t understand most of your slurred words as sleep pulled you away, but he knew what you meant. You’d told him the same thing every time during the coldest months and he was yet to ask Rhys to show him a memory of you back then.

Today was different though, you wanted him to know and part of him needed to meet you for the first time again. As someone he wouldn’t recognise, but it would help him understand the weight of your loss and hopefully he’d be able to lighten the load.

So Azriel found himself standing in the hallway of the townhouse, his shadows skimming the floor as if they were trying to drag him along with them. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see you in a different life, one of happiness he knew would be stolen from you.

“What are you doing here?” Rhys appeared ahead of him, halfway out of the kitchen. “Should I get Madja?” He raised a brow, stepping aside to allow Feyre space to pass him.

“Az, is everything all right?” Feyre’s hand lightly touched Azriel’s arm, her voice soft and low.

Nothing felt right, not for you as you tried to get used to the absence of your wings. Azriel was in awe in how you sought out the good, looked beyond the loss and lived again, chose another life. How you chose him even if it meant you were always reminded of flying.

“I need to know, will you show me?” Azriel said, his gaze fixed on Rhys and he nodded in agreement.

Bidding goodbye to Feyre, Azriel entered the office and sat in the large armchair. The back making him feel smaller as he clutched the armrests, wood groaning under his grasp.

Rhys had shared his memories a few times with Azriel, but this felt like his a blood had turned to lead. Tongue heavy and throat dry as Rhys mumbled words coaxed him to close his eyes.

Going into Rhys memory felt like wading through the depths of ice cold water. The deeper he went, the darkness around him gave way to light.

A warmth struck the side of Azriel’s face and he glanced over his shoulder. The sun glaring down on him, but he wasn’t looking to the skies he was staring at you.

Glowing, ethereal as if you were not meant to be of this world. Golden armour glistening in the sun, but it was your smile that made him stop. The curve of your lips dropping as you clenched your jaw.

You were glaring at him, fists clenched by your side and those twin blades that spoke to Azriel, greeted him like an old friend as the whistle of wind sent him leaning back.

Azriel’s heart hammered against his chest, his stance widening and mirroring yours. He felt that golden thread tighten in his chest, the bond burning beneath his flesh. Shadows nowhere to be seen, but he could hear their murmurs in his ears.

“Don’t let your guard down for every pretty face, Rhysand.”

And you were, so beautiful. Then and now. He just didn’t have the words to describe it. Nothing felt like it would live up to the way you looked, if he were to speak of it.

He touched the side of his cheek, staring down at the blood coating his fingers and palm. Not his though, Rhys’s hand.

You snapped your wings, the force knocking him back. Wings as white as snow, soft as the clouds in summer. Long feathers ruffling in the breeze, sand dusting the bottom half.

“See you’re taking on your new role well, but I’m not in need of training,” Rhys said, a chuckle rumbling Azriel’s chest, no Rhys’s.

Role? Ah yes, you were made general. The winged pin on the left part of your cape, he’d seen that stashed away in your drawer.

“I could teach you a thing or two.” You flicked your blade and lifted his chin, eyes on the wound weaving itself back together.

Wait were you flirting with Rhys? Azriel had seen that smile before, you’d lifted his chin with a blade or two many times.

The world around Azriel fell away like he’d walked through a waterfall. The heat of the sun on his back no longer burning. The springs of the armchair dug into the back of his wings, flickering candle drawing his shadows back to him as he glared at Rhys on the other side of the desk.

“Tell me you did not pursue her,” Azriel asked, rising from his chair and planting his hands on the desk.

Rhys didn’t move, smirk pulling the corner of his lips. He swatted the dark wisps out of his face and shook his head. “I did not. She was, is highly desired.”

Was. Azriel would make sure to summon that bout of flirtation as soon as winter passed. He missed training with you, swapping blades to see how much you’d learnt from each other.

“Show me again,” Azriel found himself asking.

I can just imagine Azriel and Cassian finding books on seraphim!reader and talking about all her battles. Hushed voices, books traded in the shadows. Cassian wanting to ask how true the stories are.

[yiiyiiwrites]

🎁 | Wrapping presents |

Summary: wrapping presents whilst Eris is trying to make the most of what little time you have together before you leave for winter solstice. Eris loves teasing you [18+] sexual themes, cockwarming, swearing.

Mischievous Eris 😌 x Wintercourt!reader

[winter solstice masterlist]

Eris had planned out every hour left with you down to the minute. His father doing his best to keep the two of you apart during your short visit.

He’d wanted as much skin on skin contact with you including you earlier sitting on his lap, cock filling you as you sat on his lap and he wrote all of his weekly reports.

Whilst he busied himself with that you were writing out cards for the winter solstice celebrations tomorrow. A handful of cards were stained with green ink, cursive letters jutting off the page where Eris shifted underneath you and sent a pulse through your throbbing cunt.

You’d been very patient that he’d promised to help you wrap all the solstice gifts. One thing he normally used to let you do on your own, hot cocoa and cinnamon cookies that refilled as soon as you finished them.

But this evening was different, the gift he’d given you already unwrapped and at the floor by your feet. The thin strapped night gown didn’t last long, Eris persuaded you to try it on, only for him to pull the tie at your back. The silk sliding down your body like a water.

He spun you around, his hands guiding yours to the table top in front of you. Palms cool against the aged wood and fingers curling as his fingers trailed up your spine. He brushed your hair over your left shoulder and leant down to press his lips between your shoulder blades.

You shivered, still trying to get used the heat of his touch against your cold skin. His lips shuddered against your back, you could feel the twitch of his smile knowing he has that effect on you.

A roll of fabric laid on the table, gifts and ribbon neatly piled to one side. You cleared the area in front of you and leant over the top, elbows and forearm keeping you in place.

Eris hummed, his palms smoothing down the side of your ribs and rested on your hips. Whenever he was close, it felt like lightning surged through your veins, an energy you never wanted to wither away. His cock slid into your cunt, you jutted forwards, biting back the grunt as he leant forward and pulled you up, the back of your head against his chest.

His arms reached over your shoulders and he tugged the roll of fabric and laid it out flat. Your body mirrored his, trying not to move against him but match it.

“What are you doing?”

His hand circled your wrist and pointed it to the pile of gifts. “Which one?” He said, teeth nipping your earlobe as your head turned.

“You wicked man,” you chuckled, plucking the smallest box on the pile and letting him guide you to drop it on the fabric. “Is this how it shall be? I can’t even see your handsome face.” You glanced over your shoulder, but he jerked his hips forward and pressed you further into the edge of the table.

“Beloved, if you finish wrapping these, perhaps I’ll let you finish later.”

You grabbed the nearest thing, icy blue ribbon scrunched up in your fist as he pulled back and slammed back into you. He placed scissors beside you and picked them up, leaning forward to glide them across the fabric and cut a square.

Folding the fabric over the small box, you unraveled the ribbon you balled up and wrapped it, tying it a knot to keep it place. Just as you started looping the bow, fingers slid down your stomach and played with your cunt.

“Umf..” you tried not to groan, but the light feathery touch and the heat of his fingers caused your knees to buckle. “Not fair,” you shook your head, eyes clamping shut as you tore the ribbon from the gift, fabric falling away at the side.

“What you don’t like that,” he said, pulling his hand away inspecting your arousal coating his fingers. “Looks like you do, beloved.”

You ignored his taunting, flicking your hair back over both shoulders and edging away from his hovering lips at your neck.

Eris clicked his tongue, he took the ribbon from you and tore some off the roll. He scooped your hair up, twisting it at the nape of your neck and tied it with the ribbon, tugging a little to remind you who was in charge.

He watched you pick each gift up and neatly overlap the fabric, even helped you cut some squares or hold the ribbon in place as you secured the bow in place. Listening to you as you told him what you’d got for your family and friends, how you couldn’t wait to see their faces light up when they opened them.

“Last one beloved, make it count,” Eris whispered in your ear. He squeezed your breast with one hand the other cupping your elbow to steady your arm as you held the scissors. His abrupt movement sent a jolt through your stomach, like a spring had come undone.

The scissors shot forward in your hold and you cut across the square of fabric. A resounding rip covering up your gasp, “Ris, I have no more fabric,” you couldn’t help but snap at him.

He massaged the tension from your shoulders, “isn’t that my present?” He murmured into your skin, lips ghosting the column of your throat as you twisted to look back at him.

You hummed, “it is, but I’m tempted to throw it in the fire along with you ‘Ris.” You chased his movements as his lips retreated from you, swaying on the spot as you remembered you were annoyed at him.

It had taken twice as long to wrap the gifts, his interruptions only adding to the aching for him to just take you on the table.

“Come on, don’t pout now,” he tapped your chin lifting it to catch your narrowed gaze. He slid out of your cunt, a swift slap echoing through the room. A red handprint fading from your ass as he rubbed the tender flesh.

Turning to face him you draped your arms over his shoulder, ribbon unraveling between your hands.

You leant back and pulled him down using the ribbon as leverage, a smirk playing on his lips as you tugged him closer. You twisted the ends of the ribbon in your hold closing the distance between you both. His curved nose nudged your own, lips a hair width apart.

“I’m still waiting for the rest of my gift,” you whispered, lips parting and eyes fluttering shut as he kissed you.

“But you did not finish, beloved.”

Your eyes flew open, ribbon snapping as Eris stepped back. “This better be foreplay, ‘Ris.” You called after him, cursing his smug face.

Thanks for reading and interacting:) I’ll be adding some more winter!reader fics and characters in the lead up to Christmas - Yiiyii

[yiiyiiwrites]

😬 me trying to refrain from posting day two of winter solstice until the voting poll is finished.

Looks like Eris is your fave to post first so far and then Lucien.

Aiming to do 6-12 days 😌❄️ trying to keep my holiday spirit alive.

[yiiyiiwrites]

The highest vote gets posted first 😌

If there’s any characters you’d like to see, just let me know as I’ll be adding some more that I haven’t done before

[winter solstice masterlist]

[yiiyiiwrites]

| Winter solstice masterlist |

? days of winter solstice

Summary: wintercourt!reader x acotar characters. More to be added...Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Eris, Helion incoming 👀

1) Gift giving: winter warrior giving and receiving gifts.

Cassian x winter!reader

2) Snowball fight: Azriel enlists the help of Balto, the winter fox to try and snag the win of the annual snowball fight. (The bat boys telling you what happened on their return). Winter!reader x Balto x batboys.

Winter!reader x Balto x batboys.

3) Wrapping presents: whilst Eris is trying to make the most of what little time you have together before you leave for winter solstice. Eris loves teasing you [18+] sexual themes, cockwarming, swearing.

Eris x Wintercourt!reader

4)

[yiiyiiwrites]

❄️| Snowball fights |

Summary: Azriel enlists the help of Balto, the winter fox to try and snag the win of the annual snowball fight. (The bat boys telling you what happened on their return). Winter!reader x Balto x batboys.

[Balto fic]

[winter solstice masterlist]

The crunch of snow and the pitter and patter of claws on the decking drew your attention from your book. You marked your page and closed the cover, setting it down.

You heard Balto’s yap before he lunged into your lap, book sliding down the side of the cushions. His fur clumped with ice, but the tinge of red staining his chin and trailing down his chest had you scrambling off the chair.

“What happened, boy,” you said, kicking the knitted blanket tangling your legs and pulled your snow boots on. Balto circled your ankles, matching your steps as you walked down the pebbled path.

The coppery tang of blood grew stronger, your gaze scouring the compacted white snow in search for a red trail. Too focused on finding the source, you’re startled as a large shadowed figure loomed over you. Dark wisps invaded your vision and you sighed, leaning back against the familiar warmth and firm chest.

“Is that for me, Angel?” Azriel’s lips brushed the curve of your ear and his gloved hand trailed up your chest between your breasts. Fingers tapping the erratic beat of your heart.

“Stop copping a feel and get in the cabin!” Cassian yelled in the distance, “blizzards heading this way.”

You elbowed Azriel in the gut and spun around. “You oaf!” You snapped shoving his arm as he tried to reach for you. “Balto came back covered in blood! I thought something had happened.”

His hazel eyes soften, the deep line between his brows disappearing as he caught your flailing hands in front of him. “Everything’s fine, just a minor teething problem,” he said, his gloved hand cradling yours in his as he guided you back into the cabin.

The heat hit you as soon as you entered the hallway. You searched every inch of Azriel’s body, dipping your head to get a peek of his face. There were no signs he’d been harmed, but he was pretty good at acting like he wasn’t in pain that your assessment wasn’t helpful.

Azriel knelt down before you and untied your boots, palm cupping your calf as he helped you remove them. Your fur coat slipping down your arms, Azriel hanging it on the hook.

“What do you mean minor teething…” you didn’t need to finish your train of thought as you turned to enter the large open plan room. A gasp fell from your lips.

Cassian stood beside the dining table, blood sticking the leather to his thigh. A gaping flap of fabric hung loose and you held your hand to your nose as an earthy stench stung your nostrils the closer you got.

“Get that thing away from me,” Cassian said, pointing towards you. It wasn’t till you followed the direction of his finger did you realise he was talking about Balto.

The white fox ever so slowly padded across the room and laid down in front of the crackling fire. His head resting on his paws, onyx eyes on Cassian and tail flicking as if he was waiting to play.

“Gods what is that smell.” You fell back a step, pinching your nose and trying not to blink.

Hot breath fanned against the side of your face. “Had to make a herbal pain reliever, don’t ask,” Azriel whispered behind you, but he remained a step away that you wanted to stumble back and close the distance.

Rhys and Azriel seemed to enjoy whatever had gone on. A smirk playing on their faces, shoulders shaking as they fought back their silent chuckles.

“You lost then Cass?”

Cassian scoffed, “that bloody menace popped out of the snow and bit me.” He slapped a wet cloth to the open wound on his inner thigh. He sucked in a breath, pressing down on the tender spot and clamping his eyes shut for a second.

“You did step on his tail,” Rhys added, petting the top of Balto’s head as he collapsed into the armchair by the fire.

Balto huffed, his head turning to you and he flicked his tail as if asking for sympathy, but you raised a brow at the mischievous fox. He must have thought he was playing too.

“His jaw locked, took both of these idiots to get him off.” Cassian threw the cloth across the table, his fingers dipping into a jar of soothing balm and pasting it on the now visible teeth marks on his thigh.

“Least he didn’t jump a bit higher, brother,” Azriel chuckled, his arm draping over your shoulder as he pulled you closer. His shadows skimmed the nape of your neck and curled beneath your braided hair, the cool whip of wind making you shiver.

Rhys laughed, his gaze flicking down at Cassian’s hands guarding the sacred spot between his legs as if he expected the fox to attack on command. His wings shuddered at the thought.

“I’m sorry Cass,” you said slipping out from under Azriel’s arm and walking to Cassian. You pushed him back gently guiding him to lean against the table. You peeled back the torn fabric of his fighting leathers, fingertips close to inspecting the teeth marks, but cool wisps pushed your hand away.

It was the first time he’d bit a member of the inner circle, well apart from Azriel. Balto seemed to warm to Cassian and Nesta instantly, so you didn’t think he meant to do harm, only wanted to play in the fight like the boys.

You swatted the shadows away swarming your vision. The curved row of wounds standing out against Cassian’s bronzed skin. You winced the moment your eyes fell on the two sharp canines that still wept with blood. Those would take a day to heal, whereas the rest would be gone in a couple of hours.

“You did step on his tail,” Azriel said, pulling you back by your elbow. You smiled against his arm as it wrapped around you again and pulled you flush against him.

“Don’t know why you’re laughing,” Cassian shot back at Rhys, the flames dancing in his gaze. “Warming your cobblers? eh.”

Azriel’s chest rumbled, you felt your whole body shake with his laughter. Even cassian couldn’t keep a straight face. You glanced up at Azriel, brows furrowed as you waited for one of them to explain.

“Rhys took a swim, he tripped over Balto and slammed into the frozen lake.” Azriel smirked, a stray wisp dove for the white fox and it curled around his bushy tail. If you didn’t know any better they’d be whispering praises to the fox.

Limping to the kitchen, Cassian pulled a crate of beer out of the cooling box and set it down on the table. He threw a can to each of them and flicked his open, chasing the foam before it could roll down his hand.

“So who won then?”

The two Illyrian’s in front of you groaned, Cassian crushing his can in his hold and flinging it to the table to open another.

“I did,” Azriel said, his arm retreated from you and he fell back into the sofa. His arm hung over the back of the seat, wings twitching as he looked up at you and leant his head back. “Looks like you owe me, Angel.”

Dammit, you shouldn’t have made a bet against him. You’d be talking to Balto as soon as you got home.

Will have some more winter!reader fics coming soon up until Christmas :) hope you enjoy and thank you for reading/interacting - Yiiyii

[yiiyiiwrites]

Wherever love is forbidden, passion blossoms

Summary: you and Cassian have been forbidden to see each other,so you meet between two courts. Based off my previous post: if I must be your ruin

[acotar masterlist]

Cassian x summer court reader.

The thrumming energy between the two courts was similar to yours and Cassian’s . As if each smile tugging his lips, plucked a tune that could lure you in and keep you forever.

You’d thought about disappearing in the night, leaving summer and hiding out in the dawn court. The only place you could truly be with Cassian without worrying, but it was never that simple.

His eyes roamed up and down your body, lingering on your bare shoulders, thin straps holding up layers of silvery chiffon draped over your chest and pooling to the floor. The warm breeze behind you pushing the excess fabric over the boundary as if the gods were telling you to step towards your mate. The wind whispering for you to reach out and grasp his hand in yours.

Cassian however was covered head to toe, thick leather jacket skimming the top of his knees. Boots hidden in the blanket of snow, his hands stuffed in oversized pockets. You could hear the chattering of his teeth, but could not feel the cold bestowed upon him.

His wings twitched behind his wide shoulders, the force sending a flurry of snowflakes towards you. The frost of winter melting before it touched your face.

“Hello, Precious.”

You don’t why he called you precious, if it were a nod to the blood rubies you’d sent him after your first argument or if you were the most valued thing in his heart. It didn’t matter, you still melted at the sound of his voice and twitch of his lips as he smiled down at you.

“Missed you,” you said, leaping through the invisible barrier and reaching out for Cassian. The hair on your arms rose, the blood writhing under your flesh turned to lead and the cold seeped into your bones.

Cassian opened his coat, wrapping it around you as your arms slipped around his waist. The fur lining just as warm as the heat radiating from his chest. You were just thankful that you’d worn a pair of boots, even if you did look ridiculous traipsing through the summer woods.

You remained silent for a moment, listening to his heart beat and taking in his scent. The one thing you’d tried to chase, the pinewood candles lining your bath tub and the new leather bags you’d got all trying to replicate his scent when he wasn’t around.

“It’s been a while, huh,” he murmured, chin resting on top of your head. “Things aren’t great at the moment, with all the added threats and the talk…”

You pulled away a bit, neck aching as you looked up at him. The deep rims under his eyes were telling enough. And now that you’d finally got a better look at him, a new scar marred his cheekbone. You wondered what else laid beneath the many layers he wore. Not that you’d get the chance to explore.

“Shh, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain, this is enough for me.” You laid your palm on his chest, fingers tapping along with the beat of his heart.

Cassian released a deep breath, his hand cupping the back of your head. The smile on his face faltering, “I had to see you, even if just a moment.”

The last few visits were the same, short and far between. You were getting used to the longing, the aching in your chest as you stared out the window and watched the tides of the ocean change. Sometimes you wondered if he waited for you, glancing out to whatever place he was, wishing you were there.

“You’re okay though? You’re not hurt?” You asked, hoping your eyes would not betray you or your voice would not give way. There was a sadness in his gaze that you were not sure of, if it were for you or him.

He chuckled, shaking his head. A smile spread his lips and he dipped down to press his lips to yours, his hand at the back of your head pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. He drew back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You touched your lips, the heat disappearing a little too quick for your liking.

“Tell me, Precious. How has my mate been?” That crooked smile tugging at the corner of his lips, lone dimple settling in his cheek.

It was difficult enough not to talk about your mate with everyone and anyone back home, but you were forbidden. The only one you could talk to was your best friend in the Dawn court, but you weren’t due there for another few weeks. Then you could talk her ear off about your mate.

There were many things you wanted to share with him, from the most important to the damn right boring, but there was never enough time for that.

“Bad, first?” You said, glancing up at him.

He nodded, his hand smoothing up and down your back. The smile gave way to his sharp jaw, muscle in his neck flexing as if he were trying his best not to panic for whatever bad thing came his way.

“Well my father is still trying to get me to meet with the Prince!” You swatted his chest, snorting at the thought. “me with a Prince, could you imagine it. I think not, all those stuffy good for nothing…”

You don’t expect Cassian’s next words, nor did you think he’d ever say it out loud.

“You deserve a Prince.” His voice a gentle whisper, the ghost of his breath taking up the space between you.

That little ache in your chest shot through you like an arrow. “I deserve a choice,” you snapped, instantly regretting the venom spitting from you.

Cassian’s hand hesitated, finger dropping from the side of your face as if he thought better not to touch you.

You never wanted him to second guess. You were his for the taking, he didn’t need to wonder.

“What if you are my prince?”

A deep laugh rumbled through his chest, he stumbled back and you felt the icy cool of winter at your back. His jacket still hung over your shoulders, but a sliver of space remained behind you.

It wasn’t funny, nothing in the way you carried those words were.

“So I’m a stuffy good for nothing…”

You grabbed his thick wool jumper in your hands and dragged him closer, nails digging through the woven yarn. His brows furrowed, nose nudging yours as he inched closer.

“You are everything to me. You think I would give up my mate for a Prince? A rare treasure it is to find those divinely fated and you think I would give you up?” You hadn’t realised how fast you’d spoken, your breath trembling as you ran the last word. Your grasp on his jumper slipped away and you balled your hands up under your arms.

Mine, mine, mine it felt so good to say it out loud. To stake your claim to the one in front of you. Winter might just be your favourite place if it allowed you to speak so freely.

The bastard with his devastating grin standing before you, like you didn’t rewire his brain like he did yours.

Cassian shifted, wrapping his jacket over you again and shielding you from the bitter cold. “I think that counts as good news then, tell me the bad.”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t totalled a building…” you huffed, too annoyed at the way he so easily fell back into conversation when your head was still racing of all the thoughts you wanted to say.

Maybe you should start writing, least it’d be one way to get it out instead of bottling it all up.

“If I remember rightly you started it, forgive me for stepping in,” he interrupted your mumbling, brow arched as your shoulders relaxed and your arms fell down by your side.

The dull ache remained, another reminder that you could never be free to love without destroying ties with your family.

Sometimes you wondered if Cassian’s friends would stand in your way if they knew. He didn’t talk of them much, vowing to make the most of the little time he had with you each visit.

Cassian’s arm tightened around you. You sunk into his embrace, cheek pressed to his chest as you inhaled his scent.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” It’s barely a whisper, as if the act of saying it quietly will cushion the pain, but it never quite does.

“I know.” You retreated from the warmth his coat, arm reaching out as you stepped back. Fingers tracing his wrist, the callouses on his palm.

Cassian grabbed your hand and tugged back, lips crashing to yours for one last taste.

You close your eyes savouring the moment and as you open them stepping back into summer, your love is gone.

As quick as a blade, it plunged into your chest and that dull ache amplified as you wait Cassian again.

Wanted to add to more forbidden romance with Cassian

[yiiyiiwrites]

🏹 | The Hunt |

Eris Vanserra x shifter/spring court reader(Tamlin’s cousin). [Acotar masterlist]

Summary: unable to turn down Beron’s invitation and the equinox hunt, you have to mind where you tread in the autumn court. The scheming Vanserra brothers and the hunt where you could so easily become the hunted if you were to shift. (like Tamlin and the rest of his bloodline, you can shift into an animal). 3920 words

Brothers oldest to youngest: Eris, Theadon, Marcellus, Theron, Sandros †, Deimos † and Lucien. (Not edited).

The autumn equinox used to be one of your favourite celebrations as a child, but as you grew up, it became woven with politics. It had been a week since the fireworks, smoke still hung in the air, curling around the low branches of trees and around your ankles as your leather boots sunk into the mud.

The high lord, Beron had extended an invitation for the hunt. A tradition for nobles and every other sucker who tried to sweeten the Vanserra’s and their court. You however, were not so lucky. Forced to join the men and buff away any conflict before it got worse.

With the past fifty so years under the mountain and the aftermath of Aramantha’s reign, this would be the first of many hunts going forward now that the courts were finding a bit of normalcy.

“You cannot be serious,” you snarled, crossing your arms over your chest and balling your fists out of sight under your elbows.

The thick bodice and riding jacket drew a quick breath from you as you fought to exhale a deep sigh. It had been decades since your last hunt in autumn, your hips a little wider and your breasts fuller. You’d binded your stomach and chest, trying to fit into the traditional garments Beron had gifted you when you were much younger.

Theadon Vanserra’s golden eyes flitted to your chest, smirk tugging his thin lips. “Never complained before,” he said, shoving his hands in a pair of soft brown leather gloves. The second son of autumn, a few years younger than Eris.

He huffed, blowing the curl of ginger hair back out of his eyes. His beauty well crafted as if an artist had took centuries to carve the sharp lines of his straight pointed nose and high cheek bones out of marble. You couldn’t help but let your gaze wander whenever you found yourself in his company. Theadon lapping it up, flirting back with you and trying to inch over the boundaries you’d set with him.

“Can always ride with me, pet.”

The chestnut horse behind you nudged you between your shoulder blades with its muzzle and you stumbled forwards, whirling around and jabbing a pointed finger to the next Vanserra brother.

“You know you’re much more likeable when you don’t speak, Marcellus,” you snapped at the third Vanserra brother. The fiery red hair duller, blonder than the rest of his siblings.

Marcellus didn’t pay you much mind, snorting at your half ass reply and pulling the reigns beside him. The horses long glossy tail flicking you in the face as it circled back to the front of line with his father.

Theadon was a tease and you frequently played into it, using his advances to gain the attention of one particular Vanserra. Marcellus though all talk, nasty venomous tongue, but never did anything to physically harm you.

The seven brothers seemed to be dropping like flies, the middle one leaping from his saddle and blocking your path to Theadon and his sandy stead.

“How about you shift and we’ll chase you, pet.” Theron, named after the hunter of autumn and the meanest of the pack. “So get your ass on that horse and don’t complain again.” He shoved you aside, hand grasping the back of your neck as he guided you back to Theadon.

Theron Vanserra, middle child that went to extremes to gain a scrap of attention from his father. You were yet to see a kind side to him, even when you grew up in their court and ran around with them as kids.

Ever since his twins Sandros mysterious death, Theron made it his mission to make your visits as short as possible. You’d happily let him run you out of autumn if wasn’t for the eldest Vanserra keeping you there.

“Brother, she’s a lady not a pup,” Theadon chuckled, his forced laugh cut short as Theron shoved you towards the horse. He placed his gloved hands on your hips and lifted you over the horse, your fingers wrapping around the reigns trying to pull yourself up. You don’t need to summon any strength though as Theadon pushed against the back of your thighs to help you swing a leg over onto the saddle. Your boot brushed the steads sandy coat, a line of dirt left in its wake.

You don’t bother snapping at him, Theadon a lesser evil when it came to the brothers of the hunt. Eris hadn’t participated in years since he’d become General and took on more responsibilities.

“Mutt maybe,” Theron mumbled, scratching the stubble on his jaw. The leather hunting gear he wore, scratched and worn as if it were his way of showing off his skills and power.

You wished you knew the person responsible for his crooked nose, only to thank them for breaking it.

Theadon grabbed your wrist before you could even curl your fingers and swipe a punch, your arm pinned by your side as you glared down at it. You’d been too consumed with rage that you hadn’t noticed him climb on the saddle behind you, his warmth pressing against your back.

“Comfortable?” Theadon murmured, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. He wasn’t asking though, just trying to distract you from tumbling down and going for his younger brother. Not that he’d let go of you.

He shifted sinking closer to you, back of your head knocking his firm chest. His knuckles swiped the braid down your back and he draped it over your shoulder, giving it a little tug. You couldn’t relax though with Theron snapping at you, every bone in your body rigid and your spine upright ready to defend or attack.

Theron’s face was always twisted with disgust whenever his gaze caught you, like he’d been chewing on a wasp. You still couldn’t believe that Theron and Marcellus had married noble fae. He took one more glance at you and spat on the ground, hoisting the bow and arrow back over his shoulder as he walked to his horse. A grumble echoing away with him.

Fae females were not allowed to ride alone during the hunting parties, an escort always needed. Which is why you found yourself like every other solstice hunt with Theadon whispering in your ear, one hand on your stomach to keep you from sliding away and his other on the reigns as the horse galloped through the rough terrain.

The rising sun broke through the tight knitted trees, sending golden rays over the red rolling hills of autumn in the distance. You squinted, hoping the light would blind the hunters and allow the animals to escape before they met the sharp tip of an arrow or canines of the dogs scrambling near the pounding hooves.

“Must be cold when you hop in and out spring and summer, much like my brother’s beds.” Theadon doesn’t bother keeping his voice low, deep sigh fanning the crown of your head.

“Not your bed though,” you said, wincing as his fingers dug into your stomach. You thanked the gods that you’d chosen thickest bodice, bronze embroidery adding more armour to protect. His warning enough for you to stop before you said too much.

Theadon hummed, pulling the reigns tighter in his other hand and rested it on your thigh. “I do wonder…” he mused, “does Eris know how easy it is for you to lay with another.”

Rumours had followed you ever since you were dumped in the autumn court. A fae of spring raised to act as a bridge between the two courts and smooth out any grievances. And with that task came a lot of talk. How you’d worked your way through the brothers and chased the youngest back to spring. You’d never revealed the truth, the only one that mattered was him and he knew you.

A chorus of howls tore through the forest, horses stomping to a halt as if they all stopped to listen to your reply.

The men ahead were searching beyond, a lone hound escaping the undergrowth of a thorny hedge with a brown fox between its teeth.

You looked away, but Theadon grabbed your chin and forced you to watch the snapping of its neck.

“Is that what you look like as a pretty little fox?” He asked, hand trailing down the column of your throat. “I remember you shifting as a child, just a pup.”

Hunting was the one thing you hated, autumns plea of killing all the runts of their animals. The odd brown foxes that were deemed unworthy compared to the fiery orange coated ones they trained as messengers. The one form you’d taken on, but you were able to blend into whatever court you were in. A fluffy white coat for winter, orange for autumn and silver for spring.

You’d only shifted once in autumn and vowed never to again. Theron and Sandros had chased you through the forest, straight into a badgers home. You still had the scars from their claws on your back as you tried to dig your way out.

“Maybe I’ll shift and rip your throat out. I’m sure you’d like that,” you said leaning your head on his chest and peering up at him. The deep line between his brows softened, lips curving into a smirk.

“Mmm tempting, maybe you can shift some of these layers off later for me?” He whispered, gaze dropping from your lips to your breasts.

Smooth, too damn smooth. You couldn’t help but laugh at him, the way he easily fell back into flirting. “In your dreams Vanserra,” you said, scanning the forest and soon regretting it as your gaze found Theron’s.

The smile dropped from your face as his horse trotted back to the line near you. There was an overall darkness to the middle brother, cherry red locks cut short so it never got in his way. Eyes of bronze that darkened as soon as they narrowed at you. Brawn and brain, even if he played into the brawn more. Everything he did calculated, you couldn’t help but think he’d been plotting your downfall ever since you first stepped into autumn as a child.

“The things you do in my dreams,” Theadon whispered, but before he could divulge all the dirty details a force barrelled into his horse.

The hold around your waist fell away, your body slamming to ground. Pounding of hooves shook the roots beneath the earth and you curled into yourself hoping you wouldn’t get trampled on. Voices boomed in the distance, hounds barking and teeth snapping, but you couldn’t peel your hands away from your face.

Muffled sounds filtered through the shield you’d created around you, your foxes senses picking up the crack of broken twigs at your back. You inhaled, trembling breath trying to push back, there was no way you’d shift. Not in autumn.

Something hard hit your elbow and you lowered your arm, peeking over at Theron. You just wanted to burrow into the ground and be rid of the bastard. He nudged you again, thick mud staining your dress as his boot met your knee.

“Up you get, pet,” he said through gritted teeth, “follow me or don’t follow me, I don’t care. Just keep up.” He didn’t spare another glance at you, his figure halfway up the sloping path by the time you’d stood.

The early morning fog long gone, your surroundings crisp and clear of anyone but him. Even the wind did not carry the yells of the hunting party or the sounds of their movements. The forest too quiet for your liking.

You trudged after Theron, glaring at his back.

“Watch where you’re going,” he called over his shoulder as he side stepped a foxes hole. A hare dove into the bushes at his booming voice, browning leaves showering the earth in its wake.

A whip of wind pushed you forwards, your legs like jelly as you tried to keep your balance. The heel of your boot on the edge of a large hole of a fallen trees ripped roots.

You trailed after Theron, climbing atop the fallen tree and walking across the stream. The trunk slick with moss, slippery beneath you that you didn’t bother lifting your feet but sliding them along. You clutched your skirt, balling it up in your fist as you thought out the best path that didn’t lead to the icy water below.

“Maybe if you watched where you were going earlier, we wouldn’t be trekking through the sodding woods,” you snapped, jumping down to the other side of the stream.

Of course Theadon would hang back and look after the horse, he’d be guaranteed another stead to get back to the castle on. You on the other hand were being led gods knows where into the golden forest of autumn with someone who wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire.

The hunter, bully. Just like his father, you dread the day if Theron ever became high lord. He didn’t bother acknowledging your words or your presence, his fists clenched by his side as he zigzagged the makeshift path. Horses hooves leading him back the way you’d come that morning.

You scrambled up the muddy terrain, nails scraping against the branch you used as leverage to hoist yourself over. The mist of rain weighing down your riding jacket, another shackle to keep you down in the court.

The howling wind tore through your hair, the woven braid over your shoulder coming undone. Stray strands sticking to your neck and shielding your sight.

You felt the snap before you saw it, iron teeth sinking into the flesh of your ankle. The tears rolling down your cheeks burnt, voice hoarse as you screamed once again.

"I told you to watch where you're going," Theron snarled, crouching down beside you and taking the curved side of the iron trap in each hand.

“Get it over with,” you snarled, regretting the rise of your voice as you moved in anger and felt the searing pain shoot up your leg.

Theron paused, fingers slipping from the trap. “Why don’t you shift? Sure you’ll be able to get out of that one yourself. It will make for good entertainment at least,” he said, his knuckles brushing against your jawline.

Against your better judgement, you spat in his face. Your saliva rolling down his freckled cheek, he froze. His nostrils flaring, body trembling with what you could assume as a blinding rage. He lifted a curled fist and drew his arm back, flames spreading across his knuckles.

You clamped your eyes shut, felt the heat crashing forwards, but nothing came. A chorus of whimpers in your left ear made you dare to peak in front of you.

Three hounds, one by your side sitting patiently for you to greet them. Another sniffing the edge of the iron trap. The last growling at Theron, hair raised on its back as it forced him to walk back.

“Like calls to like,” Theron spat.

You didn’t know if it was the loss of blood or the eldest Vanserra, but as he appeared through the trees your head become heavy. Heartbeat drumming against your chest.

“Mother’s looking for you,” Eris said, head nodding to the pathway behind him.

Walking painstakingly slow, you tracked his smooth movements as he made his way to you. Eris dropped to his knees, lightly pushing the hounds nose away from the trap. He rubbed his jaw, amber eyes flitting from your ankle to your face.

“Do you ever do as you’re told,” he said, prying the iron teeth apart. The lock clicked back into place and his hand cupped the back of your calf as he moved it away from the trap.

“Tell me what to do, I might just do it just for you.”

He shook his head and lifted you into his arms. Warmth spread as you laid your head on his shoulder and draped your arms around his neck. His hounds scouted off ahead, running as quick as shadows that you couldn’t keep up with them.

You slid your palm from the back of his neck and rested it on his chest. His heart beating too slow and repetitive compared to your erratic one. You’d blame it on the wound if he dared to bring it up.

“Where are you taking me, General?” You asked as the trees gave way to golden hills in the distance, a few wooden huts dotted the perimeter.

“The barracks, so keep your mouth shut,” Eris whispered, lips pursed and head held high as he walked through the checkpoint.

Suits of bronze and red parted for Eris, heads lowering in respect and they did not rise till his back faced them. You watched his unit scurry around, your chin propped on top of his shoulder. Foxes weaved through the soldiers boots, bound letters attached to their back.

You’d never been to the outer edge of the generals quarter. Ladies stayed within the centre of the court and were normally accompanied by a chaperone if outside. You however, knew the secret passageways in the castle and ancient crumbling pathways that were rarely used.

Eris’s grip tightened on you, his gaze flitting to the two guards stationed either side of the largest wooden cabin you’d ever seen in autumn. They parted, gloved hands pulling the oak doors open so that the General could enter. Gaze fixed ahead, Eris walked through the narrow corridor to the left.

Lanterns flickered, flames roaring to life as if the General had summoned them himself. The terracotta tiles on the floor were so clean you could see waxy shine coating it and the reflection of his flames dancing between each square.

The last door opened and closed as Eris walked in, large table dominating the room. A map covering up most of it, but it curled up as soon as your gaze wandered the red ink painting the Autumn court. Eris sat you atop a desk, inks and parchment neatly placed to one side.

You shrugged off your riding jacket and let it fall behind you, gaze following Eris whose back faced you. He pulled open some drawers, glasses clinking together in one hand and rags in another. Placing your palms on the desk, you leant back as he walked back to you, brows furrowed as he stared at your boot. He shoved a bottle of green liquid into your hand, head jerking for to drink up.

Popping the cork off you gagged at the stench, but tipped the bottle back and drank the lot. The thickness of the potion coated the back of your throat and you coughed, fist colliding with your chest as you tried to rid yourself of the burnt taste lingering. The ringing in your ears disappeared, vision clearing the haze away.

"It must be bad," he mumbled as he crouched down, fingers untying the knot from your laces. "Not even one word." A smile tugged the corner of his lips, his amber eyes flicking back to yours.

"You told me to keep my mouth shut," you said, brushing the hair out of his face and back over his shoulder. Your breaths quick and heavy, the damned corset cutting into your ribcage. Not at all anything to do with the General on his knees before you making light work of pulling the laces out of your boot.

"So you do, do as you're told."

The banter more to distract you, the iron still swimming around your blood from the trap. You wouldn't lie, it felt like your ankle had been ripped off, never mind torn apart from a hunters trap.

"Like I said, only for you," you said through gritted teeth, Eris's fingers and palm were coated red, boot discarded to one side. You tugged the bow at the centre of your corset and pulled the ribbon free, allowing yourself the room to draw a deeper breath.

Eris raised a brow, but didn't ask what you were doing, only rolled your sock down your ankle slowly leaving it halfway on your foot.

You fanned your face with your hand, a bead of sweat rolling down your chest. "God's it's so hot in here, are you hot?" The iron making you a crumbling mess in front of him.

"You know I'm hot," he said without a missing a beat, he swiped a cold paste on the wound, touch soft and precise. Always so careful when it came to you, just not with words.

"God's this barbaric court, hunting down an animal all because it's not deemed good enough. Why couldn't I get a beast like Tam? I'd happily hunt those...Do you know who broke Theron's nose?" You rambled on, word after word tumbling out before you could stop. Eris's laugh shutting you up, his broad shoulders shaking as his hands hovered a safe distance from your wound.

He leant his elbow on his thigh and his head arched to peer up at you, amber eyes flickering like the flames. "You do realise who you're complaining to?" Eris asked, his attention returning to the cloth in his hand. He wiped the blood from your ankle, wrapping a strip of gauze around the wound and tying it in place.

"I'm just," you said, pausing as he rose to stand. Your gaze trailing his chest and the thick column of his throat. "Just thinking if you're next in line..." you whispered as he leant down, forcing you to topple back, but his palm found the small of your back keeping you in place.

You couldn't blame the corset for the tremor in your breath, heat spreading the expanse of your back beneath his touch. Eris's copper hair fell from his shoulder shielding you from the light, gliding against the bare scrap of skin on your chest. His other hand slid up your thigh slow, but he did not break away from your gaze.

"I broke it," Eris said, nose nudging yours.

"Thank you," you said, you grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and you pressed your lips to his.

Eris retreated from you, hand slipping away from your back. "You want to know why?" He asked, finger hooking under you chin and making your gaze connect with his once again.

The back of his hand traced your cheek and jaw, you closed your eyes melting into his touch. you nodded, humming for him to continue.

"Because he hunted you when you shifted."

You eyes shot open. You hadn't told anyone that story, not even your parents. Eris must have heard his brothers bragging about it back then, as he'd turned up at your bedroom that night and helped you tend to the cuts on your back. He'd held your hand, let you sob in his arms as the cleaning balm set into the wounds. Never asked you asked any questions, his silent presence soothing enough.

"They try to make out that you're as delicate as a flower in spring, but you're as strong as the thorns guarding your borders. I see you," he said, framing your face in his hands. "The way you dance between courts, use those pretty words to escape much worse and how you do it all on your own."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you managed to whisper, tears threatening to spill over your lashes.

"No pretty words for me?" He asked, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"Kiss me."

Wrote this whilst I was sick so might be some errors etc. but I always wanted to write some of the other Vanserra brothers and I originally wrote another Eris fic and this is like a spin off from that. Hope you like :)

[yiiyiiwrites]

Same like wtf?!

Spoilers below

Feel like Rafe just checkmate bitched me. I’ll be waking up in a well later wondering if it was a dream.

Don’t contact me for 3-5 business days, obx part 2 season 4 has destroyed me. wtaf.

[yiiyiiwrites]

| The Bold and the Brave |

Summary: Azriel looking after your fox whilst you fulfil your diplomatic duties in the dawn court on behalf of winter. Azriel trying his best when he has no clue what he’s doing. [acotar masterlist] 2752words

Azriel x winter court reader

“You want me to what?” Azriel said, peering over his book at you. The hard cover hanging together by a few threads at the spine and by the way your mate had tightened his grip you were convinced it’d finally fall apart.

“It would mean a lot to me, I’m going to the dawn court and I can’t keep on eye on him.” Your gaze flickered to the white furred fox curled on your lap, warm nose nudging your palm as you waited for a response.

-

Azriel’s shadows curled round his ears hissing at him to decline, but he always crumbled as soon as your brows dipped as if you expected to be denied anything you asked. It had been like that for centuries before you met him.

So he found himself not putting up a fight, agreeing to look after the winter fox.

Balto.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, Azriel would do anything for you. Balto however, had never shown him any attention other than lunging at him whenever he opened the closet and biting him when he was taking you away.

Not even a day since you’d left, Balto paced the creaky floorboards, tail dragging along behind him. His canines snapping whenever a stray dark wisp got in his way.

Balto’s pointed ears twitched each time Azriel dipped his pen into the ink jar. The scratching of metal on parchment raising the tuft of fur at the back of the fox’s neck.

“Stop that,” Azriel snapped, not glancing up from his desk. Balto huffed, pesky shadows hovering a breath away from the fox, neither knowing who the shadow singer had spoken to.

A flash white zipped past Azriel, the ever growing reports stacked on the table crashed to the floor. Balto’s wet nose leaving a trail on the letter he’d just finished, blue ink smudging the paper. He sniffed around the desk, swiping a paper weight off the edge. Which Azriel caught before it could topple over.

Shadows tore towards the fox, twisting around its bushy tail as they tried to lessen the damage. The action only making matters worse as Balto tried to snap at the wisps, running in a circle and landing in Azriel’s lap.

They both paused, Azriel’s hands frozen in the air and Balto’s mouth hung open. Lowering his hand gently, his fingers scratched the top of Balto’s head, onyx eyes closing for a moment. A moment, because as the cool shadows traced the raised fur at the back of Balto’s neck, he sunk his sharp canines into Azriel’s hand.

“Bloody menace,” Azriel snarled pushing Balto off of his lap and nudging him away with his boot. His shadows hissing as if they too had been bitten.

He inhaled a deep breath, gazing to the beams of the ceiling. Three days, he had three days to figure out how to manage a winter fox. It was the first time he’d been left alone with Balto, you were always here and when you wasn’t, the fox trailed after Nesta. Another warm lap to fall asleep in the library.

A white bushy tail flicked around the gap of the door, tapping claws against the hallway tiles merging with Cassian’s heavy footsteps. He shouldered Azriel’s office door open and stumbled through, Balto walking in between his steps.

“Well hello Balto,” Cassian chuckled, he leant down and petted the fox’s head, a little too roughly that he pushed back against his palm. “He’s probably hoping I’ll take him to Ness,” he said straightening up and meeting Azriel’s narrowed eyes.

“He likes you,” Azriel said, his brow furrowing at the thought. Why didn’t he like him?

Cassian fell into the chair opposite, tapping his lap in invitation and too Azriel’s surprise the fox leapt into Cassian’s lap and curled up, head tipped back as he tried to lick the hovering hand above him.

“He likes my scent because it’s merged with my mate that he adores,” Cassian said scratching under Balto’s chin. “I know that look brother, only time will help.”

Mate. Azriel couldn’t understand why Balto had never warmed to him, even after the mating ceremony when your scent entwined with his. Balto should be seeking him out for comfort, but it was the opposite.

“Are you going to the mountains? Check up on the training there?” Azriel tapped his fingers on the desk, hand dropping as Cassian’s gaze found the bloody teeth marks there.

“Yes…” Cassian smirked, large hands framing Balto’s face, a tinge of pink on his white fur near his canines telling enough.

“Good,” Azriel nodded, “take him with you.”

A deep laugh shook Cassian’s chest, Balto pawing the spot. “I can’t take him to the mountain, there’s no snow right now. He’d stick out and become dinner for who knows what.” A smirk tugged his lips, he was enjoying this too much.

“At least let him roam around the house with you, I’ve got all this still to do,” Azriel said, straightening the papers beside him which were all out of order thanks to Balto.

“Fine, but just an hour. I’m sure you’ll come find him when it’s up,” Cassian called over his shoulder. Balto chasing him out the door without another glance in Azriel’s direction.

He glanced down to his lap, long white fur stuck to his dark trousers and clumped together as he tried to brush it off.

One hour turned into three as he pushed through the work on his desk. His shadows were oddly calm, no interruptions since Cassian had bid him goodbye.

He wondered how you were doing in the dawn court. Much of your work involved smoothing over alliances between friendly courts, words being more powerful than weapons in your line of work. Not that you couldn’t hold your own, you’d been fighting monsters in the winter mountains your whole life until you’d met Azriel. Then you started to think more smarter, how you could still serve winter and live with him in Velaris. The diplomatic position giving you the best of both worlds.

Your absence seemed to be a sore spot for Balto, the longing sinking into him too as he watched the fox huff and puff all day. It hadn’t even been a day and he was wishing you were here.

Balto, he hadn’t seen since. He pushed out of his chair and blew the flame out from the lantern. He aimlessly walked the house of wind, shadows peeling away from him to squeeze under the doors and check for the fox.

The faintest of whimpers echoed down the hallway. Dark wisps struck his chest, but he pushed through them till he found Balto curled up on an armchair in the library.

Your chair, he could still smell your scent as if he’d stepped into the winter court. Fresh snow and pine invading his senses.

Nesta leant against the chair, her head resting on the cushion as she stroked Balto’s thick fur. The book in her lap discarded, pink ribbon marking her place. She murmured the softest of words, coaxing the fox’s heavy eyes shut.

“Az.” Nesta clicked her tongue and turned to him still looming in the doorway. “Poor things missing her, what have you been doing with Balto?” She raised a brow, as if she could see through the thick leather of his glove hiding the teeth marks on his hand.

“He bit me,” he blurted out, unsure why he needed to tell her. “I don’t know why he won’t warm to me.” His shoulders drooped, wings tucking behind him. The weight of a whimpering Balto pressing down on him, another reminder that you weren’t here. You always knew what to do.

The many times you’d crawled under the bed and calmed Balto, stayed until he felt safe enough to come out of his hiding space. Or when he’d be snarling and snapping, your silent presence sitting on the floor as you waited for Balto to come to you. As if teaching Balto that he had a choice, no forcing or punishing for feeling an emotion as big as fear.

You’d told him before that Balto had gone missing in the winter mountains when you were a child and it changed him. The only person he fully trusted and didn’t bite was you. There were many similarities to you and Balto.

“I will watch him for a while, go finish your reports,” Nesta said, voice soft and gentle like the hand smoothing Balto’s fur.

Azriel spent the rest of the day compiling reports and tidying his desk. The darkness crept in around him, the small lamp snuffing out beside him as the wick was nothing but ashes.

He flexed his hand, deep teeth marks now a scratch after a few hours of healing. His shadows whispered in his ear, echoing Balto’s name.

At times his shadows were no better than the fox, chasing its tail and whistling in Balto’s ear. He tried his best not to let the dark wisps monitor the foxes movements, but a few strays did what they wanted and watched.

When Azriel finally got back to his bedroom, a furry mound was curled on the bed. Sometimes Balto liked to sleep at the bottom of the bed by your feet, but he’d never slept on it without you.

He changed into his night clothes and slid into bed, trying not to pull the blanket from underneath Balto’s snoring form.

“Just for tonight,” Azriel whispered, smoothing his palm along Balto’s curved spine.

·•✦•·

Azriel’s body felt heavy as he dragged himself along the hallway. Wings skimming the walls as if they were trying to keep him upright. The pounding in his head amplified as he pushed his palm against his bedroom door.

In the middle of the bed, Balto’s teeth locked on a pillow, Azriel’s. He growled, shaking it in his hold.

“Balto!” Azriel didn’t mean to shout, the ache of his muscles whining as he raised his voice.

The day he’d had, checking on his contacts for intel went completely south and he ended up taking things into his own hands. The last scrap of patience falling away as feathers ripped from his pillow.

It was only supposed to be a couple of hours, but it turned into nine. The second day almost over.

Balto dropped the pillow as Azriel went to tug it. Pointed ears pushing back and head dipping, tail tucked between his legs.

Azriel stilled, blood coating his hands and staining the lilac pillow he clutched. “Balto,” he said, low and soft. His knees sinking on the mattress as he reached out slowly.

Dark wisps danced with the feathers floating in the air around Azriel, but his gaze was fixed on Balto.

In moments like this, it reminded Azriel of you. The way you used to snap at everyone who tried to reach out for you. Afraid that if you accepted that hand, you’d get hit by it later. Cold and detached, one letter answers so that no one could ask too much of you.

“It’s okay boy,” Azriel said, stopping as Balto scrambled backwards. He lifted his hands and rose from the bed, walking back to the bathroom. He opened the closet door on his way, knowing Balto would seek refuge in the layers of chunky knitwear that smelled of you.

Space, that’s what he’d give Balto. The blood and grime marring his flesh and leathers wasn’t helping. So he’d clean himself up, hope that the lingering scent of you would help him calm a frightened Balto.

He removed his weapons, setting them on the counter gently trying to make as little sound as possible. Pulling off his fighting leathers, he let them fall to the tiled floor and kicked them out of the way.

The harsh water beating against his back soothed his aching muscles. Azriel watched the red water spin down the drain until it was clear. He scrubbed every inch of his flesh, it was no wonder Balto was scared. He hadn’t realised how terrifying he looked. That and the fox’s heightened scent did not help his case.

Azriel pulled on some clothes and exited the bathroom, out of the corner of his eye he found Balto peeking through the folded jumpers in the closet. He stripped the bed and scooped up the feathers, stuffing them in a new pillow case and tying a knot in the end.

The three days were nearly up, only a few hours left till morning. Azriel put new sheets on the bed and tossed the old ones in the basket. He opened the other closet door and pulled out his winter coat, Balto following his every movement.

Balto nipped Azriel’s hand as his fingers traced the folded jumpers. A smile tugging his lips as he scratched under Balto’s chin. Space seemed to be the best remedy for Balto.

“I know, you miss her. So do I,” Azriel said, leaning against the shelves of the closet. “Let’s go meet her in winter, what do you say boy?”

Balto lunged out of the closet and landed on Azriel’s shoulder, paws trailing along his back as he dropped to the floor. His tail curling around one of Azriel’s legs waiting for him.

Scooping Balto up from the floor, he place the fox in his bag. The one you normally carried in when you winnowed to winter with Balto. He settled into the fur lined bag, huffing as Azriel tried to push his busy tail in the bag too.

He’d never travelled with Balto through the planes of darkness. Too afraid the fox would leap out and he’d never be able to find him. But he needed this as much as Balto, the open space of the winter mountains was somewhere that reminded them of you.

The strap hung from his neck and he clutched it to his chest, shielding Balto’s eyes as he snapped his wings into flight. As soon as he was able to travel, he let the darkness wrap around him and guide him to the winter court. His fingers stroked Balto’s head, a part of him checking he was still there.

The crunch of snow beneath his boots and the howling bitter wind welcomed him in winter. Balto jumped out of the bag and dove into the crisp white snow. Azriel couldn’t help but smile as he watched the fox tunnel underneath, jumping on the untouched snow and disappearing.

Azriel spent all morning walking the mountains, Balto trailing not far behind him. They checked in on your cabin, both napping by the fire and eating lunch. A kind patroller offering him soup, after seeing the smoke from the chimney.

Balto lay in front of the fire, pointed nose resting between his paws. His ears dropped back and pressed down into the tuft of fur. He crept forward on his stomach, pausing as a pesky wisp skimmed over his head.

To anyone else they’d think Azriel was still in a deep slumber, he leaned into the rhythmic deep breaths and let his hand drop to the floor. Balto stopping once again, before he inched closer and closed the distance.

A warmth nudged Azriel’s hand, his shadows telling him of the furry friend out of his eye-line. Balto licked the back of Azriel’s hand, tongue swiping the faint teeth marks he’d given him a couple of days ago.

“Thanks, boy,” Azriel said, his palm tapping the top of Balto’s head. “Why don’t we go find our favourite person.” He rose from the sofa and pulled on his coat.

Balto yapped in agreement, darting to the open door as fast as a lightning bolt. Azriel couldn’t keep up with furry blur, snow too deep as the fox burrowed underneath it.

Every now and then he’d catch a glimpse of Balto leaping up out of the snow and trying to chase a bird. Whenever you finished your duties for winter, Azriel would meet you there if he wasn’t away working. It’s times like this that he savours the cold. Reminds him of you.

He feels the charge of energy between you before he sees you. In your absence the heat is unbearable that he longs for the cool touch against his burning flesh.

You slide your arms around his waist and tucked yourself under his arm. “Did you give him winter berries?” You asked peering up at him as he kissed your forehead.

“No,” he said pulling away from you, “should I have?”

“Gods no, we’d never be able to catch him.”

This has been in my head since I did the winter read headcanons

[yiiyiiwrites]

| If I must be your ruin |

Summary: before the buildings ruin, Cassian knew that your love would fall the same but he was willing to fight that fate with his mate. (Some dad Cassian and uncle Azriel/Rhys too)

Cassian x summer court reader (forbidden romance) [acotar masterlist]

Before under the mountain:

Sneaking Cassian into the summer court because you prefer your silk sheets and comfy bed.

Cassian loves waking up to you in his arms, the salty breeze filtering through the open window. Veiled curtains fluttering around the bed frame, dangling shells clinking together and creating a song he hopes he never forgets.

Takes a while for both of you to take the relationship serious as you’re both forbidden from stepping in each other’s courts.

Swimming together during the full moon, taking a small boat out into the summer sea and diving from the deck.

That one time Cassian got caught and you had to flirt with the guards so that he could escape. You never heard the end of it, but it did lead to great make up sex. He teases you for it all the time.

Your older brothers don’t like Cassian because of what he did.

“It was one building! It was ugly anyways, did us all a favour.”

You’re also part of the reason for the buildings ruin, but Cassian has never mentioned it.

“I would tear down buildings for you.”

Meeting on the boundary of summer and winter, Cassian can’t step over the invisible court line. (After being caught previously it’s too risky for him and you).

So you launch into his arms not caring at the abrupt temperature change. He opens his jacket and pulls you into a crushing hug to keep you warm.

Slipping a shell in his pocket, so that he’s reminded of a piece of you when he puts his hands in there to warm up in the cold. (He doesn’t tell you that he got a seamstress to sew a shell into the lining of his pocket so that you’re always with him).

Sending Cassian a blood ruby when he’s angered you. He ends up with a collection of different cut red gems, that you both laugh about now. You only get more angry if he forgets the reason of why you sent them.

You made him a necklace with discarded fishing netting and a shard of sea glass you found washed ashore.

“If I must be your ruin,” Cassian said, hooking his finger under your chin and raising your gaze to his. “Then I will also be your salvation.”

Secret wedding, where he creates you a ring out of the first blood ruby you sent him (the only reason you sent it was because it was the exact same shade as his siphons, he got in a lot of trouble with Rhys too).

Your mating ceremony is halfway between both of your courts in dawn. Only you and cassian with a priestess that is your closet friend.

Your dress pearlescent silk, fluttering layers in the morning breeze. Pearls weaved into the waves of your hair.

“In this life and the next, my love.”

After under the mountain:

You’ve never seen Cassian under the mountain and that you are glad of.

The only thing you have of Cassian’s is a dagger, blood ruby set in the scabbard. Your ring is hidden away in the Dawn court with your priestess friend.

You’re convinced that Rhysand can scent his friend merged with yours. He even studied the dagger, but did not push any further.

It wasn’t your mate that ended up being your ruin, it was the things you had to do in order to survive.

Fifty years of yearning and you meet him back in dawn. Granted it took you a couple of years of freedom till you reached out to him. Closed yourself up in summer to try and rid yourself of the trauma.

Cassian bought you a small estate that looks out to the sea in the dawn court. Your shells and rubies decorating the driftwood mantelpiece.

Your mate is hesitant the first few visits as if he’s worried about scaring a wild animal. As if you’re made of glass.

You seek refuge in the dawn court and wait for your mates visits. The first person he brings to your shared home is Feyre. He knows that she’ll be the most understanding and will treat you with kindness.

The nightmares are few and far between when Cassian is there to hold you.

The sound of the sea crashing along the shore soothes your mind and helps you stay grounded. Your mate knows you too well.

When you do eventually get invited to Velaris, you’re surprised to see the small shells scattered around his bedroom. The ribbon from your mating ceremony in the drawer beside his bed.

The different ornate chests full of rubies tucked away at the back of his wardrobe.

Your family:

When you have children they are named after precious stones. The first a daughter Ruby, as fiery as the threat of summer and has drawn blood from her father (accidentally).

Ruby is a forced to be reckoned with when she gets older. “Well it’s not that bad, dad totalled a whole building,” Ruby smirked, eyes sliding to Feyre who bit back a laugh. “Who told you that?!” It’s turns out Rhys was the one that let that slip.

Ruby has no interest in fighting in the mountains, thinks her father and Azriel are brutes (but loves them anyways). She does however want to join the Valkyries. Very fond of Nesta and loves romance books too. Debates with Cassian on how they can help Illyrian women.

Cassian teaching Ruby to fly, she’s reluctant to learn but he takes a more softer approach and asks feyre to help out too.

Obsessed with Pegasus in the day court that she begs you to take her there whenever you have diplomatic work.

Asks Rhys to put in a good word with Helion so that she can study in the day courts library. Ruby sends Cassian war books that she’s read and add sticky tabs for parts she thinks her dad will like. Sends you precious stones with a note. “Whatever you do, do not call any of my future siblings after this one.”

A son Jett, who is so protective of his siblings and his mother when you fall pregnant with a third one. He doesn’t give too much away, his stony face unmoving as if he’s spent too much time with uncle Azriel enjoying the quiet (which he doesn’t get at home thanks to ruby).

Jett’s the only one that wants to train in the Illyrian mountains like his father and uncles. Grew up playing with a wooden sword before he even learnt to fight.

Cassian doesn’t let Jett go to the Illyrian mountains till he’s trained to a high standard. Knows his son will be a target for people to prove they are better than him. So wants to give him a fighting chance before he’s left to his own devices.

Play fights with Rhys as a kid and gets in a good few swipes before you and Feyre are telling them both to calm down.

Jett asking Cassian to tell him of his adventures putting away monsters in the prison before bed.

Azriel is the one to teach Jett to fly, Cassian too nervous as he falls each time. Jett can’t do it with too many distractions, values silence and figuring it out himself instead of people telling him what to do. He ends up going out alone and mastering it himself…which earns him a scolding from you and Cassian.

Pearl, she loves the ocean that her first steps were paddling in the shallow waves at the beach. Free spirited and loves to fish with Feyre and Rhys. Whether it be looking for shells or sea glass or searching for a crab in the rock pools.

Pearl is the only one without wings, you tell her it’s so that she can swim and follow the mermaids in the ocean. She’s a spitting image of you as a child and it’s like you’re meeting yourself again for the first time.

Pearl has no spatial awareness when it comes to wings. She’s always getting swatted by her siblings wings and she likes to play a game where she hides behind Cassian’s wings, all that can be heard is her giggles.

Azriel took Pearl flying because he didn’t want her to miss out when her siblings were learning to fly (he may have dropped her few times as he mentioned how many times Jett fell whilst learning…he always caught her maybe even dropped her again just to hear her little giggles).

His girls braiding his hair and adding little shells and strands of string. Cassian definitely learns how to do their hair too. He even massages your hair before he braids yours too and the girls whine asking him to do that to them as they undo the ribbon holding their braids.

You live in Dawn during winter and spring, as you can’t handle the cold weather. Summer and autumn in Velaris, a top floor apartment in the art district overlooking a lake. It’s smaller than your home in dawn, but you spend more time outside on the rooftop patio than inside.

Your children visiting your brothers in Summer during the hottest time of the year so that they can see where you grew up.

Ruby rejects her mate, an Illyrian brute that doesn’t value her intellect or cares for her opinion. She falls in love with a scholar from the day court and lives out the rest of her life there. She doesn’t visit you and cassian for a few years thinking that you are not happy with the rejection as she knows that mates are sacred. But you make it known that her happiness is all that matters.

Jett’s mate, a peregryne in the aerial legion. They meet across the battle field during war and spend years trying to find each other. Nothing but letters going back and forth whilst they fulfil their respective duties.

Pearl meets her mate in the Summer court. A way finder, he was pulling a fishing net up in the middle of the sea when he saw Pearl swimming by.

Hope you liked….I thought about this way too much after thinking of it ages ago :)

[yiiyiiwrites]

❤️‍🔥 | A choice |

Azriel x Autumn court reader

[Autumn court reader] & [acotar masterlist]

Summary: Azriel comforting you after your magic flares up. To him you’re good and sometimes you just need reminding that in able to be good, it’s all about the choices you make. 932words

Angel, the word is weighted but the way it slipped from his lips so soft and melodic as if he sang it, brought you out of your thoughts.

Your hands trembled in your lap, fingertips charred and chalky. The curve of your palm red, crescent shaped burns scored into your skin.

It’s been months since your last outburst and each time it happened, the flame still remained at the back of your throat. That flicker of shame burning your tongue and coating your words with venom.

And it’s like you’re back in Autumn, fighting to survive. Scheming to stay above the surface. You can’t help the way you slipped back into that past self, one that let fear rule you and hurt others before they got a chance to hurt you.

Angel, it’s not a word you’d associate with yourself. You’re far from it, as if you were forged in the fires of hel and unleashed on the world.

The stench of smoke hung in the air, the dying embers glowing against the desk. The orange flickers eating away at the last bit of parchment, you slapped your palm on the desk and snuffed it out. Wondering why it was so difficult to keep your own magic contained.

One letter however, in pristine condition. Cursive ink crisp and clear against the yellowing paper. A loaded cannon, ticking time bomb and trigger you let get the best of you. As if the sender knew the message would cause a reaction.

Azriel still hadn’t moved, his wings tucked behind him in the doorway. He echoed that word again, Angel and you’ve lost count how many times he’s used it to coax you out of your high. That ear ringing numbness that seeped into your bones and shook your body.

He moved, your gaze snapping to him as he walked towards you. The knot in your chest wanting to tug you closer, but you stepped back. The wavering smile dropped from his lips, he may have stopped but his shadows were already curling around your fingertips and gliding over the dip of your palms. The cool breeze of their movement soothing your burnt skin.

The gods were wicked, cruel weaving Azriel to you. Someone so full of rage and fire, a constant reminder of his past. You didn’t miss his hesitation whenever you had an outburst and you couldn’t blame him for it either.

“We are meant to be, Angel,” he said, as if he could read your thoughts. Your mate always knowing what to say when you needed it most. “You are everything good in my world.” He leant against the edge of the desk, burnt wood groaning beneath his weight.

Good, but you’d done bad things. You stared at Azriel’s hands trying to remind yourself why you can’t get closer to him. Why you can’t touch him, even when the bond feels like it twisting inside you, you can’t.

“Angel,” he called, scarred hand reaching out to you. His hazel eyes soften as you tucked your charred hands behind your back and shook your head.

You couldn’t bring yourself to hold his gaze, your head dipping and your focus on the ash covering your leather shoes. The echoes of Azriel’s boots struck like the thumping in your chest. The shadows of his wings looming over you.

A dark wisp pushed the hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, another icy shadow hooked under your chin and tilted your head back up.

Azriel stood before you, respecting your boundaries and not initiating any acts of touch whenever you had an outburst. The blue siphon on his chest flared, his shadows skimming the stone and shielding its glare from your sight.

“You know I too, have had to do things I didn’t want and I think the reason why we are mates is because we have been both good and bad. We know right and wrong, the grey area too,” Azriel said, prodding the letter on the table and sliding it along to you.

You’d met Azriel in the grey area, in the autumn forest where choosing the bad option led you to good, but gave you a bad reputation in your home court. The good being him, the bad becoming you when Velaris didn’t welcome you, but feared you.

The grey area seemed to be where you and Azriel met the most.

“The only thing that matters now though, are the choices we make right now.” His voice is low, but firm, the weight of his words snuffing out the remaining embers in your clenched fists.

You let the shadows guide you, step by step until you closed the small space between you and him. His shoulders relaxed, but he didn’t touch you.

Closing the minuscule distance you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him, cheek pressing against his chest. The beat of his heart slowing as he embraced you, his warmth washing over you and the feverish burn withering from your flesh.

“So be good, Angel and even if you must do bad, know that I am always here for you. As not everything good can be done right,” Azriel said, kissing your forehead as he leant back and captured your face in his hands.

You glanced over your shoulder to the letter on the desk, “well the grey area we can do right," you murmured, the pad of Azriel's thumb traced the side of your face drawing you attention back to his hazel eyes, warm like the setting sun.

"I'm all yours angel, what should we do about that?"

[yiiyiiwrites]

Baking with their mates

I’ve been baking a birthday cake today 😌 and just had this in my head. [Acotar masterlist]

The guys baking:

Azriel:

He’s baked with you a few times, but it’s the decorating where he feels the most confident. His shadows steadying his movements as he adds fancy piped icing to the buttercream exterior.

You like admiring his concentrated gaze and how the silence wraps around you. Sometimes he even hums to himself when he’s really focussed.

You can tell from Azriel’s face that he doesn’t want to cut the cake and eat it after. But the pesky dark wisps smudge the edge, so he sighs and cuts you both a slice to eat. Azriel asking bakers on perfect buttercream mix and the different size piping nozzles.

Cassian:

Chaotic mess, but you’re just the same. You enjoy the shared activity, the light brushes as you squeeze past each other to do certain parts like you’ve got a good routine/production line going between the two of you.

It’s not till you’re waiting for it to bake do you realise the mess you’ve left behind. It’s like a battlefield and you both try to get out of it by rock,paper, scissors but you end picking the same thing and end up cleaning up together.

Cassian always tries whatever you bake straight from the oven, even when you warn him not to. Has roped you into making a chocolate cake after seeing Bruce eat an entire one in Matilda.

Eris Vanserra:

Pastries are your favourite thing to bake and Eris hovers around the kitchen testing your latest experiments. He even asks you teach him taking full advantage of getting your help or opinion. Praise.

He likes when you hold his hands and guide them on how to present the pastry. Smirk on his face as you fall for it every time as you know he’s a bit of perfectionist.

Makes sure you taste it first, his elbows on the counter and leaning forward to catch your expression. Learns how to make churros after you try them at the autumn equinox celebrations.

Lucien Vanserra:

You don’t know why you even said yes to letting Lucien in your kitchen. You both started off using boxed recipes and just adding an egg, now you’re trying to make it from scratch.

You can’t help but get distracted, his sleeves rolled up his muscular arms and the way his finger swipes off a splash of cake mix from your chin.

You end up burning the cake as you were oh so distracted by other things.

Definitely would be making pot brownies randomly when you can’t sleep. Making cookies and adding everything else instead of chocolate chips.

Rhys:

After a long time of Rhys asking to bake with you, you give in and wished you didn’t. Because he’s even better than you at it!!

You should have known though, he seems to pick up things pretty quickly and teases you when you accidentally put the mixer on the highest setting and splatter cake batter everywhere. His confidence and ability to do everything makes you feel butterflies and you’re a ditsy mess as you try to ramble off instructions.

Asks you when you’re opening your own bakery and reeling off business ideas.

Tamlin:

After you asked Tamlin to bake with you, he started researching edible flowers and brought them with him, recipe book in hand for you two to try making them.

The first batch goes horrible wrong, that you end up making something simple. Tamlin goes home and bakes them again multiple times till he perfects them.

He returns a week later, offers you some beautiful cakes decorated with flowers and flavoured with them. Gives you a recipe he amended that makes the best cakes.

[yiiyiiwrites]

Me staring at the 27 drafts I’ve half written every time a story pops up in my head.

Really need to go back and finish those 🤡

[yiiyiiwrites]

🍁 | Autumn Equinox | Azriel

Summary: you’ve been mated to Azriel for over a year now, but it’s your first time celebrating the autumn equinox outside your home court. Azriel tries his best to make it a good one 2075words

Azriel x Autumn court reader

Also Have one for [Cassian] & [Eris] & Lucien coming soon

[Acotar masterlist]

The autumn equinox used to be your favourite celebration, now it just reminded you of everything you’d lost. A bitter sweet holiday you wasn't sure if you could do each year.

You may have gained your fated lover, your other half but you’d given up your home and family.

There wasn’t any other way, you knew that. The moment you’d stumbled upon the shadow singer in the golden forests of autumn was the final fraying thread snapping.

If you didn’t hurt Azriel by your own hands, Beron would make an example of you and use you in what ever way to break the bond. To snuff out any flickering ember that remained for your mate.

So you were as sly as a fox, crawling under the overgrown hedges of molten brown thorns keeping you in the court.

Your mother understood, she packed your things as sobs shook her whole body. Even now as you closed your eyes, you could smell the tendrils of her smokey caramelised scent and the undertones of cinnamon washing over you as if she were embracing you for the last time again.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. You opened your eyes, dark wisp falling away from caressing your cheek. For a moment you imagined the touch of your mother's hand warming your cheek.

Azriel sighed as you sunk into his embrace, his presence more frequent the days leading to the equinox. You’d refused to hold him the first few days after you caught the mark on the calendar, afraid your touch would burn him.

Velaris offered a similar bout of weather that reminded you of home. The nights growing longer, colder and you were thankful there was still a little scrap of heritage you could clutch onto.

Your magic however seemed to be like a fizzling firework in the night court. Touch running hot and cold, that you didn’t stand close to your mate for months as you got used to the warmer seasons.

The restraint you’d built since your arrival dulled your flames. You no longer needed to apologise for scorching holes in Azriel’s sleeve or slapping the fiery embers from the fabric a bit too harshly as you tried to it stop marring his skin.

In the beginning he’d gifted you a pair of leather gloves, but that increased the distance between you both. You wondered why the gods had strung you two together in the beginning, everything you were, summoned painful memories for Azriel. The simple action of holding his hand reminded you why, why you needed to cage the flame to offer him a semblance of the same affection he gave to you.

"I have something for you," he said, nose tracing your jaw and pulling you out of your thoughts.

The cold crept in as he slipped away, the winter breeze pushing the stray strands of hair out out of your face. You breathed in, another wave of smokey scents and sweet aromas tipped with oak prickling the warmth beneath your fingertips. Turning around to meet your mate, you took a step back.

In his gloved hands laid a whicker hamper, tartan blanket sticking out of the box. You gasped, adding another step back. No wonder you could smell their scents. "You saw my mother?" Your voice trembled, hands diving into your coat pocket, fists clenching as you tried to expel the overpowering scents that even mingled with his shadows.

He nodded, ever the cool and controlled mate, never raising his voice or moving too fast as if he'd spook a fox in Autumn. "Yes, it's customary to exchange gifts," Azriel said, pulling the blanket out of the hamper and rolling it out on the ground, he stilled. "Isn't it?" His hazel eyes snapped up to yours, shadows freezing under the curve of his wings.

You couldn't fight the smile, nodding down at him kneeling beside the hamper. He patted the space opposite him and that damned tether tugged you closer. "Yes Az, exchanging gifts are customary but I did not get my family any." You didn't see the point, there was no way you'd be able to step in Autumn without dire consequences.

"That's fine, I did." He shrugged, laying a pumpkin pie in front of you, steam curling off the brown pastry.

A tradition in your family to gift handmade presents to each other during the autumn equinox. Your mothers famous, pumpkin pie, honey tea and spiced apples.

"You got gifts for my family?" You asked, scooting closer to Azriel who didn't offer you a glance, his attention on the contents in the hamper. "What did you get my father?" You leant forwards dipping your head and tried catching his gaze. "My father hates you and you gave him gift?"

"I got him a hunting knife." He said it like it was the most logical thing, as if your father would not be thinking of gutting him with it. His shadows seemed to follow your line of thought, a dark wisp pushing you back to sit.

"Is that why you met with my mother instead?" You laughed, even though you wanted to cry at the thought of your mate stepping into autumn for a spec of your happiness and his own demise.

Azriel finally let his gaze fall on you, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. Always searching you before he decided what words to choose. "You're mother actually requested for me." His ears tinged a darker shade, hand scratching the back of his neck.

It was odd to think of your mother with him, you knew she'd be gentle and careful in her approach. Something you thought Azriel didn't receive much of in way of interaction. You also wondered what she thought of your mate, hoping she didn't worry and didn't judge alone from his stony features.

The grey cable knit sweater (the one you'd knit him last year) hugged his muscular arms, bicep flexing at his movement that you forget for a second what he said. A wave of your mother's scent hit you like a whip and brought you back.

"How the Gods does my mother manage to request your presence?"

"Well, she knows a lady in winter, that knows a lady in day and knows..." he trailed off the sentence, stumbling over his words trying to grasp the order of whatever your mother had told him. Trust your mother to use her network of gossips to send word to Velaris in order to find your mate.

"And how many ladies do you know?"

"Many," he smirked leaning in to you, "the only lady that matters is you though." His lips pressed against yours, warmth spreading through your chest as his hand cupped the back of your head and pulled you closer.

You smirked, storing away the memory so that you could show Feyre later and make your mate sweat about his duties to a high lady that didn't matter.

"Smooth, I bet my mother saw right through you." You said, tracing your swollen lips. You leant across Azriel's lap and plucked a ruby red apple from the hamper, teeth sinking into the shiny skin.

"Your mother probably thinks we're an equal match. How many guards did you court till you made it to me?" His lip twitched, fingers pinching your thigh for another swift attack. You swatted him way, squealing as his shadows skimmed the small slip of skin where your top had rode up over your hip.

It were true, you'd worked your way through nearly every division of the autumn army in the hopes of finding someone who wasn't just focused on following the high lords every word. What else were you supposed to do for five hundred years?

"I'd be quiet if I were you, recon I could get a rank higher than you back in autumn.” You swatted the curling wisps out of your face, sending them hissing back to their master.

"I doubt your mother would approve."

You didn’t argue with him on that, knowing that your mother was never fond of any suitor you’d brought home before.

“I take it these are from them?” You asked, lifting a small wooden box out of the hamper. A yellowing envelope stuck to the lid and sealed with red wax. You ripped the letter and scanned over your mother’s cursive writing.

The usual sentimental words she’d say to you around the table whilst you thanked the gods of harvest for giving you all good things and planting new seeds of regrowth and learning. At the very bottom below her signature however was a blurred splotchy mess, as if she’d written it last minute and folded the paper.

I hope this equinox brings you many blessings and offers you new fields to plant your own seeds. May you nurture the connection between you and your fated. My daughter you’ve been blessed, as have I now that I know you will be loved and safe.

Azriel peered over your shoulder, “I think she likes me,” he said, cutting a second piece of pumpkin pie and shoving it in his mouth.

“Just thank the stars you didn’t meet my father.” Now that you were banished from autumn, you doubted that you’d see him again. Too proud of his home to step out of tradition.

He hummed in agreement, pouring a cup of honey tea and setting it down in front of you. The view from the house of wind's balcony was your favourite, always bringing a smile to your face and reminding you that you could find beauty in any court. You did miss Autumn, but Velaris had grown on you, the constant stars blinking in the inky sky each night.

A small fire flickered in a homemade pit, copper bowl keeping it contained. Peeling the overlapping cloth, you traced the knitted mittens. Charcoal grey yarn that looked like liquid mercury woven together with softer orange, the two colours a symbol of your union with Azriel. Picking them up from the box, you slipped them into your pocket, freezing as something dropped out of one the mittens. A dark wisp dove out from its owner and caught the small object.

The shadows held it up and twisted it in front you, a fox figurine carved from wood and painted orange and beige. Tiny brushstrokes imitating fur, looking oddly like the fox you had as a child. A gift from your younger sister, you'd left your other figurines back in Autumn and hated yourself for it ever since. Least you had one now.

Azriel was silent as ever, watching you intently.

"My mother didn't give you anything? I mean I know I am gift enough Az," you said, laughing as he bumped his shoulder to yours.

His head dipped, Shadows concealing his face. "She did, wouldn't let me leave till I finished a pumpkin pie she made. Your sister made me a little fox of my own." Thats when you noticed the tiny wood carved fox pendent on a thin string around his neck, dark ink peeking out underneath it.

"Oh god's Az, don't let your enemies hear you say that. If that's all it takes." And by the looks of it, he'd enjoyed it so much, he was half way through the pumpkin pie from the hamper.

Cool metal met your fingertips as you lifted the cloth again, your reflection staring back at you in the silver blade. "I take it this gift is for both of us," you joked, Azriel picked it up and turned the hilt in his hand. A red stone embedded in the pommel, a scripture you couldn't quite make out on the hilt.

"Hunting knife, a few centuries old," he said glancing at your furrowed brows. "Look the hilts worn, the leather binding it, is coming away. Blade needs sharpening too, must have been in your family for a long time." He passed the knife back, blade pinched between his thumb and pointer finger.

You wrapped it back in the cloth, sandwiching it between the thick layers. "No idea why he'd give me that old thing," you mumbled, slamming the box shut. You were never one to use a knife, more inclined to using your magic and merging it with autumn's fighting techniques.

"No idea, just don't gut me with it in my sleep."

"Never," you gasped. "Just remember good behaviour or its a blunt blade my dear."

Since its nearly autumn equinox I wanted to do some prompts for it :) there's other characters to come - Yiiyii

[yiiyiiwrites]

🍂 | Autumn Equinox | Cassian

Summary: Cassian trying to honour your equinox celebrations, not knowing that the holiday is something you don't quite understand. So you make new traditions with your mate. 2425words

Cassian x Autumn court reader

Also Have one for [Azriel] & [Eris] & Lucien coming soon

[Acotar masterlist]

The large bag strapped to your back, bit into your shoulders. Each time you stretched your arms and clutched the protruding rocks above your head, the weight nearly promised you a plummeting death.

You didn't know what possessed Cassian to drag your ass out in the bitter cold. It felt like you'd been chasing the setting sun, your mate's bouncing steps through the forest an hour ago didn't settle the knot in your stomach either or his words of surprise.

A gloved hand wrapped around your forearm, hoisting you up and over the jagged mountain side. You fell to your knees, peering over the edge and the sheer drop, the ground crumbled beneath your knee. Gravel and rocks tumbling over, Cassian grabbed the scruff of your collar hauling you back against his chest.

His heart drummed at your back, arms caging you against him as he controlled his breaths. You flinched as his wings curled around the two of you, instinct driving him to hold you closer.

What you didn't realise was he was trying to contain the flames licking at the palms of your hands and wrists. His wings containing your magic before it devoured everything in it's way.

Panic climbed up your throat, burning sensation in your mouth pulling your attention to the fire eating away Cassian's leather fighting gear. You clawed at his arms, but he clenched you tighter biting back the groan as the singed fabric gave way to his melting flesh.

"Please," you whispered, more pleading with yourself to stop the magic on their course of destruction than ask anything of your mate.

As if the gods willed it, the heat died from your hands and the cold rushed into bite your fingertips. You curled your fingers into the cuff of your jacket, cursing the ash that shook the frayed edges. Cassian's arms eased, his crushing vice no longer stealing your breath away.

Tiny glowing embers danced around the scales of Cassian's armour, your palm slapping against the patches to snuff them out. "Shit, shit. Sorry," you said each word following the pat of your hand against his arm.

"This is why you need to learn how to control your emotions," Cassian said grabbing your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your face to look up at him. "So that you don't have to apologise for something so natural like being scared of falling to your death."

He was right, you'd never learnt to control your magic or the tangled mess of emotions that led to your outbursts, which is why he always jumped in to contain you. Stating that he'd rather get burnt than have you beating yourself up for feeling something.

It was just you and your father growing up, your mother fled back to her home court not long after giving birth to you. Which made it difficult for your father to teach the fundamentals of your magic or spend time with you when he worked all the time. Not that you blamed him, the autumn court thrived on hierarchy and you well didn't like being told what to do.

"Where's Az when you need him eh," you said, shrugging off your backpack. The one and only time you'd accidentally burnt Azriel, his Shadows had smothered you until you'd passed out. He'd avoided you for months, still couldn't quite keep your gaze.

"Im still mad at him for that," Cassian grumbled, digging through his own pack before he gave up and emptied the contents on the ground.

"Fair game," you said, taking a corner of the blanket from his grasp and laying it out on the fallen leaves. Cassian stilled, thick brows furrowed as he snatched the thermos from rolling into the burrow of a trees roots and what ever else hid below it.

"He stole every ounce of oxygen from you and you nearly died."

You didn’t feel like digging up old arguments, the key thing being that you did not die. “Why are we trekking up the fucking Illyrian mountains?” You plopped down on the blanket, swiping the warm tea from Cassian’s grasp before he can take a sip. It sloshed over the cup and dripped down your hand.

The top of the mountain gave way to the sprawling forests, snow capped peaks of the winter court could be seen in the far distance. The sun had long set, glittering stars blinking in the inky sky.

A crackle murmured through the wind, an orange light zipping up into the sky, a bang exploding as light broke off into golden flecks, falling from the line that shot up previously.

“Happy autumn equinox,” Cassian whispered leaning into press his lips to your cheek. “I used to watch these from the camp growing up. Never knew what they were for till you mentioned the equinox last year.”

Ah yes, thankfully Cassian was working away during the first year. Where you’d locked yourself in your bedroom and refused to acknowledge what day it was. Cassian had tried to get some sort of information about the tradition then, but you didn’t give him much to go on saying that you normally watched the fire in the sky.

Your body trembled, fists clenching on your crossed legs as you tried not to cry. The blood pumping in your ear whirred, heart spinning like the next fireball launching off into the distance.

“I hate equinox,” you snarled, “I hate that court, those sodding…” you couldn’t finish the sentence, you’re on your feet toeing the twigs on the ground.

You felt like a small child, the loud bangs and the crowds of fae pushing you deeper into the packed bodies. Cassian’s fingers dug into the muscle between your shoulder blades and he traced circles, easing the tension from you.

“That’s why you hardly spoke to me whilst I was away last year?” His thumb pressed into your spine and you hummed in appreciation, his touch working the trauma you stored there. “Why didn’t you say?”

You dropped your head, “I was never allowed to celebrate it, didn’t see the point when I was older,” you mumbled into your chest, now feeling stupid for saying it out loud. You really did feel like a child.

And in that moment, you realised that Cassian hadn’t been given as much you as you had experienced and that made you feel the deep rooted shame settling in your stomach. How could you complain when you had a father and a warm bed? Yes he’d neglected your emotional needs by working, but your father had given you place to sleep and grow.

“It’s nothing, it doesn’t matter,” you shook his hand off of your back and wrapped your arms across your chest, fists twisting the fabric of your coat.

“Perhaps,” Cassian said, tucking the curtain of hair hiding your face behind your ear. “We could create our own traditions for today.” The pad of his thumb brushed against your cheek, your lips parting as dimples set in his cheeks.

He tugged you down to the blanket, leaning against a large boulder. His arm hooked over your shoulder as he tucked you into his side. You thought of little Cassian watching the fire in the sky, sparkling gaze wondering what they are. Not knowing that one day they would lead to you.

And you found yourself telling Cassian why you’d never celebrated the autumn equinox. How your father patrolled the event, leaving you to watch the skies through the window in the barracks.

Children were not allowed unattended, the equinox night attracting all kinds of spirits, that patrols were long and needed.

The exploding balls of fire shaking the thin cabin and rattling the glass window. You stayed up till the candle melted to nothing and the wick turned to ash, laid in your father’s lumpy cot. You still remember the scent of smoke that clung to your father’s uniform as he climbed into bed with you, too tired to change his clothes.

You glanced at Cassian, his glassy eyes on the sky but the twitch of his wings tell you he’s listening intently. The palm of his hand smoothing up and down the side of your leg and you leant into him offering warmth that came so easily for you.

"I think I like this tradition," you said resting your head on his chest.

“We’ll have to pick another spot next year,” he said, gaze falling from the sky to the army of trees below. “Anything could be tracking us here.” Ah yes, the ever observant warrior thinking ten steps ahead.

A shiver crept up your spine, you didn’t want to think about what prowled the Illyrian mountains or come across them either.

“Maybe we should start packing up? I’d rather not chase the rising sun,” you mumbled into his chest as he pulled you into a crushing hug.

Cassian chuckled, arms slipping away from you. Part of you not wanting to leave the safety of his wings around you, another not wanting to walk through the darkness now that he’d somewhat mentioned something in the forest.

“It’s okay baby, you’ve got me,” he said, large hand pawing the top of your head. That damned tether sending the little trickle of fear straight to him. He stuffed the rolled blanket and thermos back into his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” You said as he spun you around to face him. He guided your bag straps over your shoulders, clipping the clasp at your back so that the pack laid against your front.

His wings shot out, before angling down slightly and you stumbled back at the abrupt shift of wind he sent around both of your ankles.

“You want to walk?” He asked, wings twitching as they were the ones speaking to you.

“You mean to tell me, that you could have flown up here instead of traipsing through the sodding woods?” You couldn’t help the bite of your words. The mud caking your boots and shins did not help, it felt like lugging another weight along with you.

Warmth spread the curve of your palm, flames curling round your knuckles and stretching to your fingertips. You tried to breathe, count backwards as if it would help calm your racing heart.

A whip of wind lashed at you, flickering embers falling to ash. Your skin charred and black, the chalky residue leaving a stain as it brushed the side of your leg.

You glanced at the tiny spec of ash glowing, gaze flitting to Cassian whose smirk dropped and wings snapped, sending another whirl of wind towards you. Your boots dug into the earth and dragged back at the impact.

“Stop that,” you snarled, clenching your fists. The sliver of hold you had on your emotions wavered, the thoughts of the day washing over you and the memories bleeding you dry of any hope.

Cassian held your hands in his, if you were to give up you’d burn him and that was something you never wanted. It had happened so many times, Cassian using it to teach you how to control your emotions. Something you warned him not to do. His leather gloves were covered in molten patches, flesh a lighter shade, already healing and weaving itself back together.

“You can’t burn everything down when you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry.” You couldn’t look at him, convinced that even your eyes were full of fire. He knows you too well though.

“Then what are you? Tired because you walked or frustrated at something?” His head dipped trying to catch your gaze, but you looked away. Something, he chose his words carefully when you knew he wanted to say someone.

You rarely spoke of your father freely, only offering up random tales that fit the situation. And even then you didn’t go into detail. This whole day brought up everything you’d pushed down for centuries.

“I hate this day, it reminds me of him,” you mumbled, once again feeling like a small child. “But you’ve made it bearable.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it was such a hard day for you,” he mused, brushing the hair out of your face. “I just assumed you missed your father, you don’t speak of him much or of home. Thank you for sharing that part of yourself with me.”

Home, the word sliced into you. You hadn’t truly known the word home was actually a feeling. Sure living in the barracks with your father was home, but the warmth and love Cassian gave you taught you of home.

It was more than a four walls or a cabin, home was a person for you now.

“I actually hate walking,” you said, pausing as Cassian scooped you up into his arms. “My father used to drag me through the autumn forest at the crack of dawn. Telling me I needed to learn the land and stay fit.” You’d mentioned those walks with your father, but didn’t admit you never had a choice in the matter. Even if you were aching and tired he still pulled you out of bed to roam around the woods on his morning patrols.

The fog was thick, even from the many courts you could smell the smoke. You always liked flying, well Cassian flying. Everything looked small in comparison, reminding you to take a step back and enjoy the present. Wrapped in the tight embrace of your mate, clouds and stars skimming by.

You peered over Cassian’s bicep, trying to catch a flicker of movement to whatever laid below the canvas of trees.

“I recon you’d do just fine down there,” Cassian said, veering to the right as a whoosh of wind caught his wings. “Your father taught you how to hunt and fight, although there’s worse than foxes down there.” A wicked smirk tugged the corner of his lips, he loosened his grip and threw you up, scream tearing from your throat.

Cassian tucked his wings dropping lower, the breeze carrying his laugh to you.

“You bastard,” you yelled as he caught you again, your fist slamming into his chest. “Actually one of the cute older kids taught me how to fight. Now that I think of it maybe I do have a type. He had long hair too and he was oh…”

“Walking sounds good, right now," he mumbled, escaping the clouds and soaring down, his boots dragging along the top of the trees.

“I actually want to sleep tonight.” You couldn't help yourself, leaning over and peering through the gap of branches in hopes of finding whatever beasts Cassian refused to tell you about. Part of you glad he didn't, the stories you'd heard of the prisoners he fought, were enough to taint your dreams.

“Who said we’re getting any sleep tonight?”

Since its nearly autumn equinox I wanted to do some prompts for it :) there's other characters to come - Yiiyii