#“We were friends once morrigan”

[illyrianbitch]

Are We Still Friends? — Part Four

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: You navigate the aftermath of your confrontation. Azriel takes his first steps toward making things right.

Warnings: brief mentions of injury, bruises, and physical fighting. nyx being a cute baby. some fun introspection. reader is tired and overwhelmed. az is honest and open (hallelujah)

Word Count: 7k+

Part Three | Series Masterlist | Part Five

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Rhys was trying to be serious. 

He truly, truly was. 

From behind his polished desk, he looked every inch the High Lord—back straight, jaw tight, fingers drumming against the wood. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again, as though he couldn’t decide where to start.

You shifted in your seat, your body aching in strange places from the fight. The cut on your cheek throbbed and the bruising across your knuckles made every twitch of your fingers tender. But none of it compared to the strain in your cheeks—from holding back a laugh.

Feyre was perched on the arm of a chair beside you, Nyx cradled in her arms, his tiny fingers gripping the fabric of her flowy blouse. She wasn’t looking at you—refusing to, actually. Her gaze was locked firmly on her son, her lips pressed together in a trembling line, but you could see the corners twitching with suppressed amusement. You kept your gaze on her, waiting until the burn of your stare would render too hot for her to ignore. 

It didn’t take long.

Feyre’s resolve crumbled as soon as her eyes met yours. She let out a laugh—sharp and bright and loud in the too-quiet room.

Rhys’s head snapped up. “Feyre, please. Not you too.”

Not you too. Morrigan had found the situation just as amusing. 

Her laughter only grew, and Nyx joined in, making incomprehensible happy gurgles in response to his mother’s amusement. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, though she didn’t sound sorry at all. 

She passed Nyx to your open, offering arms, and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around Rhys’s neck. Her cheek brushed against his as she murmured—loud enough for you to hear, “You have to admit it’s funny.”

Rhys groaned, glancing at you. He opened his mouth, probably to protest, but you cut in, your voice laced with mock sternness as you bit back a smile. “Yeah, Rhys. You have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” he replied, fixing you with a look. “It is not funny.”

You gasped dramatically, adjusting Nyx in your lap and covering his tiny,pointed ears. “Don’t teach your son it’s okay to lie.”

Another groan. A hand dragged down his face, but his lips twitched as though fighting a losing battle. Finally, with a resigned shake of his head, he muttered, “Alright. Fine. It’s funny. But—

His words faltered. 

“I am sorry,” you offered, filling the silence. You raised your free hand solemnly. “I lost my cool. That’s my bad. But in my defense, she really had it coming.”

Rhys casted a look at Feyre, who was leaning against the desk now, a smile still tugging at her lips. He shook his head again, sighing. “Maybe so,” he conceded, “But I can’t have our court’s emissary beating one of our citizens in broad daylight. It’s not a great look.”

“It wasn’t broad daylight,” you corrected, your attention shifting to Nyx as you untangled your hair from his iron grip, grimacing as the motion pulled at your scalp. “The sun was setting by the time we were done.”

Feyre let out another laugh, the sound powerful enough to pull a snort from her. 

“And,” you added, “It was, at most, semi-private.”

“Unbelievable,” Rhys muttered, though there was no real heat in it.

Nyx babbled again, his chubby hand reaching for your hair once more. 

“Okay, alright,” you said, straightening in your chair. The ache in your body flared as you moved, but you ignored it, your focus on Rhys. “You’re right, Rhys. I have a title and an image to uphold. I should’ve acted better. Tell me how to fix it, and I will.”

Rhys’s gaze lingered on you, as if the longer he stared at you, the easier words would come. Then he leaned back in his chair, his attention flicking to Feyre. They were in each other’s minds, you realized, talking in that way only they could. You could pick up the signs now, even subtle—a faint twitch of her lips, the softening in his gaze, even the rhythm of their blinks syncing up. 

Finally, Rhys looked back at you, then down at Nyx, who was still babbling in your lap. When his gaze returned to yours, there was a thread of warmth beneath his voice. “You’re the most, objectively, rational of us all. If you say there was reasoning, then I believe you.”

You gave him a grateful smile.

“We just have to prepare for some damage control,” Feyre said. “It’s not exactly comforting for our citizens to see three of their highest-ranking officials fighting in the streets.”

“Three?” You frowned. “What—”

You were cut off as the door creaked open. All three of you turned as Mor stepped in, a large grin on her red painted lips. She was holding something small in her hand, and when she held it up, the light caught on the all-too-familiar jewelry.

“Don’t forget. She also found these,” Mor sang as she entered fully. She tossed two bracelets into the air, catching both effortlessly before holding them up again for emphasis. “So, I think that’s enough for a pardon.”

Rhys stood, crossing the room in a few long strides as Feyre followed. He took one of the bracelets from Mor, inspecting it carefully.

“What did you find?”

“What Y/n heard was right,” Mor said, rolling the other bracelet between her fingers. “It’s a simple listening charm. Very basic.”

Rhysand hummed. “And how does it work exactly?”

“It’s an anchored spell.”

“What does that mean?” Feyre asked, frowning. “An anchor?” 

“It means the spell needs an anchor to function—a tether to keep it active and contained. Like a balloon tied to a string.” Rhys explained, his tone turning clinical. “It’s simple magic. The charm was designed to spy on whoever it was bound to.”

“And it was bound to who? Az?”

”Actually,” Mor said. She nodded towards you. “It was bound to Y/n.”

You weren’t paying full attention, not as you played a game of tug-of-war with Nyx and a strand of your hair. When the words finally hit you, you blinked, glancing between Mor and the bracelet in her hand. “What? On me?”

Mor nodded once more as Rhysand said, “Interesting.” 

”And this was in Azriels room?” Feyre asked, looking over at you. 

“One of them,” you confirmed. “The other Selene was wearing.”

Feyre’s gaze flicked to the cut across your cheek. “So she put it in Azriel’s room, but bound it to you?”

“No one tends to go into Az’s room.” Rhys frowned. “So she was only interested in conversations you were a part of.”

Of course. A bitter laugh bubbled up, but you clenched your jaw, forcing it down. You reminded yourself of what you’d seen earlier— the insecurity, rather than the malice you’d anticipated. Still, a certain annoyance lingered. Was her relationship with Azriel so fragile that she couldn’t talk to him? Were you so unapproachable that she couldn’t come to you? Instead, she planted a charm. To spy. 

”Can I see it?” You asked. 

Mor stepped forward, holding it out, and Nyx reached for it first, his tiny fingers desperately grasping at the shiny surface.

“This isn’t for you, buddy,” Mor cooed, crouching slightly. “This is Aunt Y/n’s special bracelet from her secret admirer.”

You shot her a flat look. “Secret admirer, my ass.”

Mor grinned, but her gaze flicked over you briefly, her teasing dimmed by something else—concern, maybe. Feyre stepped forward, lifting Nyx from your lap as you examined the bracelet.

“So what do we do with it now?” You glanced up at Mor.

“I can pay Helion a visit. Break the charm.” 

“Alright,” Rhys said, the word accompanied by a considering hum. “But first, let me talk to Selene and Runa—Runa was the other one, right?”

Hearing her name sent a wave of irritation coursing through you. Your grip on the bracelet tightened instinctively as you nodded, the cool metal digging into your palm. You held it out for Mor to take, watching as she then took the second one back from Rhys. He studied you for a moment, his gaze drifting to your clenched fists.

“You’re just too great,” He said with a small grin. It was very father-like in its presentation, like he was trying to cheer up a sad child. “It’s intimidating.”

You rolled your eyes, but his attempt worked— the easy cadence chipping away at the tension in your shoulders, managing to coax a reluctant smile to your lips. “So I’ve been told.”

Your attention shifted to Feyre as she rocked Nyx gently in her arms. His soft breaths had already settled into the rhythm of sleep, and something in you softened at the sight. Your smile deepened, this time warmer, more genuine. Feyre caught your gaze, then glanced at her mate.

“It’s his bedtime,” she murmured, her attention returning to you. “And maybe you could use some rest too.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Mor cut you off, her hand already brushing against your arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said softly, though there was no room for argument in her tone.

“I’m fine,” you tried to insist, but she gave you a look, leading you out of Rhysand’s office. You gave both him and Feyre a quick goodbye. 

“Walk or winnow?” Mor asked once you were in the hall, tilting her head.

You thought it over for a brief moment. “Winnow,” you replied.

She nodded in agreement, the corners of her lips curving upwards. “Probably for the best,” she said, “Wouldn’t want you to find another citizen to fight on the way home.”

You moved to swat at her arm in mock indignation, but she was already gone, her laughter echoing faintly as she winnowed away. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Mor was humming a small tune as she led you to your bedroom. She had a few more items in her hand since the last time you saw her, only a few moments prior.

“Sit,” she instructed, nodding towards your bed. Without waiting for a response, she pulled your chair from the small desk, its legs scraping sharply against the floor. Usually, you might've winced at the sound, but tonight it barely registered. You were too tired, too lost in your own thoughts to be fully aware of your surroundings. 

You lowered yourself onto the edge of your bed, hands folded in your lap, watching as Mor set her haul on your bedside table: a first-aid healers kit and a small jar with a golden lid, the faint scent of herbs already wafting from it.

“Whats that?” you asked, motioning towards it as Mor sat down.

“I stopped by Majda’s earlier,” Mor replied, grabbing the jar and offering it to you. 

You gingerly took it, running your fingers along the small glass. A healing balm, you gathered from the label, crafted and spelled to sooth the tenderness of injuries.  “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” she replied, fixing you with a look. She held her hand out in a silent request, and you granted it, placing the jar back in her soft palm.  “I ran into Adrin while I was there, too.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. I think he has a crush.” 

Your brows furrowed. “On you?”

“No,” Mor laughed. “On you.” She twisted the lid off, the scent growing stronger, fresher. “This was practically free when I mentioned your name. He says hello, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes at the tone of her voice, at the small quirk in her lip.  “How generous of him.”

Adrin was one of Madja’s recent apprentices, a male from the Dawn Court. Over the past year, you’d developed a sort of friendship with him—inevitable, given how often you stopped by Madja’s for elixirs, balms, or to request healing for one of your family members. Adrin was sweet in a way that stood out, especially for someone of his stature and wealth. Humble, easy to talk to. You’d always enjoyed your small conversations with him, none of which had ever felt particularly flirtatious. 

But Mor liked to do this—tease you about romantic prospects where there were none.

“He seemed very sad to hear you were hurt,” she teased, dipping her fingers into the balm. “Here. Give me your hands.”

Reluctantly, you stretched out your hands, knuckles bruised and raw. She took them, her touch gentle as she worked the balm into your skin. It stung at first, then cooled, easing the ache. 

“He’s cute,” Mor said lightly, noting your silence.  “You should consider it.”

“Mhm,” you replied, not really listening. “Maybe.”

Mor glanced up at you, her hands pausing briefly before she resumed. “What are you thinking about?”

You shrugged and stared down at your hands, tracing the patterns of Mor’s thumbs as she smoothed over the worst of the bruising. “I don’t know. The whole thing, I guess.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t just beat them both.”

A small laugh slipped from you, unexpected. You were quite proud of how diplomatic you’d managed to be given the circumstances— though, you were sure diplomatic wasn’t the word Runa would use.

“I think,” you began, “I just figured it wasn’t worth it. At least with Selene, it wasn’t personal. There’s nothing I could’ve said to her that’d be worse than what I imagine she already tells herself. Runa just… said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

Mor nodded with an amused smile, tilting your chin up with a finger so she could dab the balm along your jaw. On a hit you hadn’t even noticed until it started throbbing an hour later.

“Still. A listening charm is kind of insane,” she said. Her tone was measured, but you caught the edge of anger beneath it. “Can you imagine what else she could’ve heard?”

Your chest tightened. You nodded. Although not to the extent you might usually have, you had thought about it—the implications of the bracelet, the act Selene had committed, the idea Runa had planted. It was almost laughable. Your court was condemned for its supposed cruelty, led by a High Lord as infamous as Rhysand, yet citizens still felt emboldened enough to pull stunts like this. In any other court, Selene and Runa would’ve faced very different—more permanent—consequences.

“I don’t want to think about it too much,” you replied after a moment. “I’ll just get angry, and I’m kind of over that. It’s exhausting.”

“You’re better than me,” Mor muttered.

“Not really. I’m just tired.” You said simply. “Selene did a bad thing. She’s lucky it didn’t cause a serious disaster. I don’t feel the need to play the Mother’s role. Rhys will deal with her.”

Mor sat back, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “And in the meantime, I get pretty jewelry.”

You raised a brow. 

“What?” Her grin widened. “Like we told Rhys, it’s only a basic listening spell. If I’m in possession of both charms, and I’m not talking to you, then no one’s hearing anything.”

“And if you lose one?”

She raised an eyebrow, slowly twisting the cap back onto the jar. “I won’t,” she replied simply. And you knew that was the end of the conversation. Mor guided your head to the side, leaning in to inspect the cut across your cheek.

“That bitch got you good, though,” Mor muttered. She touched it gently, and you grimaced. “All this from that bracelet?”

“It was chunky,” you replied dryly. “And I think Runa split it open much further.”

Mor scowled. “If I see her, she's as good as d—”

“Mor.”

She sighed dramatically. “At least tell me you got her good.”

You gave her a look and her grin widened. “Gods, I love you,” she said, shaking her head. “You might be the most terrifying one of us all when you’re angry.”

A smile tugged at your lips, the faint pull of it brushing against the ache in your cheek. The sound of a laugh started to rise in your chest when a low voice cut through the moment.

“I would agree.”

You jumped, and your head snapped toward the doorway— where Azriel now stood. 

Your chest tightened at the sight of him, the moment’s levity collapsing under his presence. Instinctively, your eyes ran over him, taking in every detail. He looked tense, wings drawn in tight to his back, his posture stiff. Shadows hung close to him, unnervingly still. Disheveled, too—his hair was a mess and faint bruises bloomed along his face. His hands were hidden by his shadows, but you’d bet they bore the same marks as yours. Three officials, Feyre had said. You now knew the second. 

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Mor snickered beside you, drawing your attention just as her brows lifted in amusement. She turned away from him and faced you instead. “You hear that, Y/n? He’s sorry.”

You raised your own brows, gaze flicking back to him. “So those words do exist in your vocabulary.”

The bite didn’t feel as satisfying as it should have. It felt hollow, old. Azriel’s jaw tightened, his chest rising as he drew in a measured breath. After a moment, he stepped forward. His gaze lingered on you for another moment before he turned to Mor.

“May we have a moment alone?”

Mor’s eyes narrowed, the sharpness in her gaze dragging over him like a knife. She didn’t answer right away, looking back to you instead, searching your face for permission. Despite yourself, you gave her a small nod.

Her displeasure showed in the faint widening of her eyes, but she stood anyway, brushing her hand against yours in passing. Her touch was soft, careful not to press too hard against the bruises. “Love you,” she murmured. “Let me know if you need anything else tonight.”

You gave her a small smile, nodding again as she walked past Azriel. His shadows recoiled from her, drawing a dark outline along his arm. She casted one last glare over her shoulder.

“Idiot,” she muttered, loud enough for both of you to hear. Then she was gone.

The silence she left behind felt suffocating, a heavy thing that settled over the room. You avoided Azriel’s gaze, focusing instead on the healer’s kit sitting on the bedside table. You reached for it, but Azriel held up a hand to stop you.

“I can do it myself,” you said. 

“I know,” Az replied softly. “But let me. Please.”

You hesitated. He looked troubled, guilt heavy in his expression, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The conversation had been inevitable, long overdue. Might as well get it over with while he tended to the cut on your cheek.

Besides, you were too exhausted to care. 

“Fine.”

Azriel gave you a small, unsure smile—grateful, almost. He disappeared to the bathroom, and when he returned, he sat with a wet rag in hand.

You tried to hold on to your anger, to avoid his eyes, but your resolve began to falter the moment his shadows began to twist around your arms. They moved languidly, curling up your wrists and brushing your fingers as you played with your hands in your lap. You focused on them instead of him— on their quiet presence, the personality in them that so few ever noticed. You’d missed the way they felt like him.

Azriel began unpacking the kit—clean cloths, antiseptic. The smell made your nose scrunch. You took in the bruising on his face—on his cheek, a split near his eyebrow, even on his lip. Strange, strategically unplaced.

“What happened to you?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

“Cassian happened.”

And there it was— the third official. You wanted to probe for more details, were even tempted to make a joke out of his current appearance, but your irritation held you back. You stayed silent as he cleaned the wound, as he dried it. When he soaked another cloth with antiseptic, he looked at you.

“I owe you a big, proper apology.” 

You didn’t look at him, even as his words pulled at you. “Yeah.”

He paused— like he was thinking, like he was ashamed— and took a deep breath before he said, “Many, actually.”

You didn’t respond. You just nodded, watching him from the corner of your eye. When the cloth touched your cheek, you winced. He grimaced, eyebrows furrowing in apology.

“Sorry,” he murmured. 

Another pause. 

“You were right,” he said, his focus staying on your cheek. “And I should have listened to you.”

This time, the pull of his voice was strong enough to draw your attention. As he leaned closer to begin cleaning the cut, you studied his face—the sharp line of his jaw, the crease in his brow as he worked with precision. 

“I’m always right,” you muttered, and the words had more mirth than you’d expected. You supposed that was natural with Azriel, an instinct of sorts. Even when you were unhappy with him. “You’re going to have to be specific.”

Something softened in his expression—just for a second. But you saw it. You could’ve sworn you saw the faintest hint of a smile tug at his lips, heard a soft breath of amusement. His molten eyes met yours briefly.

“You were right about Selene.”

Your chest tightened. You didn’t know why, but his gaze burned. You couldn’t hold it for long and looked back down at your hands, letting the shadows weave between your fingers. You wondered what information Az knew— wondered who told him. If it was Mor who had talked to Cassian, if it was Cassian who then, in turn, had given Azriel the whole story. Had they fought beforehand? What for?

“I broke up with her,” Azriel added. “When I heard about what happened.”

You looked up, but Az’s gaze was no longer on you. “You did?”

He nodded. You tracked the bob in his throat as he swallowed. 

“There’s no coming back from what she did.”

Azriel set the cloth aside, carefully wiping away the excess antiseptic. He seemed unnervingly calm for the situation—for the invasion of privacy from someone he’d been intimate with. You’d expected something more. Anger like you’d seen with Eris, confrontation like he’d shown Lucien. But, instead, he was gentle. Maybe it should’ve bothered you, that he seemed so unphased at your current state. It didn’t. If anything, you were grateful. You would’ve been too tired to deal with anything else. 

You studied him closely. This side of him—tender, unguarded—wasn’t a side he let many see.

Your thoughts wandered back to Selene. It made sense, in a pathetic, strange way, why she might have done what she did. If she’d seen this side of him, this kindness, this care... how could she not have wanted to protect it? How could she not have gone to extremes to keep it?

You thought about it for a moment. Came to the realization that the love Azriel offered was probably worthy of madness.

“Because she spied on you?” 

It was a stupid question. But the urge to ask had persisted, so you voiced it anyway. Azriel stilled, his hand pausing mid-motion. Slowly, he turned to look at you.

“No,” he said, his voice softer. “Because she hurt you.”

His words landed with a force that sent your thoughts spiraling.

“Although,” Azriel added quickly, “The spying was definitely a dealbreaker.”

He was making a joke, you realized. Or a small attempt at one. And somehow, it settled something restless in your chest.

“She didn’t mean to,” you heard yourself say before you could stop it. 

The moment the words left your mouth, you cursed yourself. What the hell were you doing? You had no obligation. No reason. It was counterproductive, if anything. Rhys was bringing her in. You had every right to trash her, right here, to Azriel himself. To tell him over and over that you told him so.

But you didn’t. Maybe it was because she’d mattered to him—enough for him to trust her despite the flaws that had undone her. Even if that truth made your chest ache, you wanted him to make his decision with all the facts.

Your care for Azriel wasn’t something led by your pride.

“Selene didn’t mean to hurt me,” you said again, more certain this time. “It was an accident.”

His eyes softened as he observed you. You swallowed and shrugged. “Runa was the one who actually did.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Azriel said. “You were in that situation because of Selene.”

A beat.

“Because of me.”

The air between you thickened. You tried to focus on anything else, anything but the way your chest tightened, the way your heart thudded faster than it should. But you couldn’t. Your eyes stayed locked with his.

You thought about the past week, how something had shifted between you. The distance that had grown, how long it had taken him to reach out.  Azriel was someone who didn’t apologize easily. You knew that. But it hurt in ways you didn’t expect because you’d always thought you were different. That your friendship, your bond, was worth the discomfort. 

You thought he’d make it right. That he wouldn't have let it fester for as long as he did, wouldn’t have felt comfortable leaving you simmering in your hurt. 

“Az?”

The name escaped your lips unguarded, and his face softened at the sound of it. His wings shifted too, just slightly, like tension bleeding out. You hadn’t said his name like that—without anger, without bitterness—for days.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you actually apologize earlier?”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and his gaze flicked down, as if the answer was there, somewhere in the floor. “I—I didn’t know how.”

You let out a breath—annoyance, defeat, something too messy to untangle. “It’s actually really easy,” you muttered. “You just open your mouth and say the words ‘I’m sorry for being a dick.’”

There was a soft shuffle as Azriel leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He tilted his head, trying to meet your averted gaze.

“Y/n,” he said softly. “I’m sorry for being a dick.”

You let the words settle for a moment before sitting up straighter. Met his eyes once more. You raised a brow, unimpressed. “A bit late, don’t you think?”

Azriel didn’t move, his eyes meeting yours steadily. He was closer now—close enough that you could almost feel his presence like a tangible, heavy thing. His shadows stirred, curling around your fingers, then shifting toward his hand. They tangled between you both, like they were tying you together, threading through the space that separated you.

“It is,” Azriel said. He looked down the second his words hit the open air. It reminded you of repentance, like a sinner confessing to a priestess. His hands rubbed together before he clasped them into a fist, looking up again.

Even then, his thumbs kept moving, brushing over each other in a way that gave him away. He was nervous.

“I messed up,” he said. “I knew I did the minute I repeated what Selene told me. But I’d messed up so badly that I felt like an apology needed to be big enough to make up for it. I couldn’t think of anything.” He took a shallow breath. “I—I was embarrassed.”

You frowned.  For Azriel, who stood in front of you, unwavering in the face of so many enemies, embarrassment seemed almost foreign.

“Embarrassed?”

“Yes.” His voice was quiet as he admitted it.

“What could you possibly have to be embarrassed about?”

Azriel’s face shifted, his eyes looking almost vulnerable, wide open, like you could see everything. Even his shadows slowed to a faint crawl. They seemed to be waiting for something. You weren’t sure what.

“That you were right. I was changing. For her. And I did it on my own.”

“What?” You barely breathed out, confused. “Why?”

“I just…” He hesitated, his eyes lowering. “I thought it might be for the better. That maybe this relationship, maybe Selene, could mold me into something else, something more…” He trailed off.

“More what?”

“Something—someone, more easy to love.”

Your breath faltered, and for a second, everything froze— like the sheer sadness in his voice was enough to freeze time. And then you were flooded with emotions, each different from the one that came before. Confusion. Anger. Pity. Heartbreak. You felt a deep, hollow ache at the idea that he truly believed he needed to change to be loved. 

For the first time, you weren’t sure what the right thing to say was. If there was one at all. All you could do, in the most genuine tone you could muster, was say, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel’s gaze faltered, his expression shifting as though he wasn’t quite sure how to process your reaction. You glanced at his hands, pushing the rush of emotions back, then met his eyes again.

“You should never feel like you need to change. Not like that.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but his eyes softened, and you found yourself focusing on the crease between his brows. It made him look so tender. So young.

Finally, he spoke again. “I was having a bad day that night you came to talk to me. I didn’t realize how I’d hurt you. I thought I just pissed you off, that you were angry.”

“Well, you did piss me off,” you said, your anger bubbling up once more. His expression faltered slightly at that, but you continued, “I’m still angry. You were dismissive. You made me feel selfish, like I didn’t have the right to care about you.”

The words caught in your throat, threatening to stick, but you pushed them out. You’d spent centuries enduring criticism from males in Prythian politics—males who dismissed your input no matter how educated or experienced you were. You knew how to let their opinions roll off your back, not to let them settle. But you never thought Azriel would be the one to hurt you. Make you feel silly. Stupid. Small.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and his eyes darted away as if he was trying to find the right words. “It was all so stupid. I can’t believe I entertained her ideas—that I let my desire to be needed make me accuse you of having ulterior motives when you were just being a good friend.”

A good friend.

That was exactly what you were trying to be—and yet, the word hurt you. It made you want to wince like you had when Azriel pressed that rag to your cut. You thought back, unwanted, to Selene’s words, and your chest tightened even more. 

Was it possible for the room to be losing air? Maybe that would explain the stupid decisions you’d been making. The thoughts you could feel in the back of your mind. A lack of oxygen to your brain.

“So why did you believe her?” you asked quietly. Your voice sounded more tired now. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted after a long pause. “It doesn’t change what I did. It was cruel. It belittled you. And I’m sorry.”

You stared at him, at the set of his shoulders, the faint downturn of his mouth. He was sincere—you could feel it in every word, in the way his eyes stayed fixed on you, like nothing else existed in the room. You didn’t think you’d ever had someone apologize like this before, so open and raw.

And yet, something inside you still simmered. The anger hadn’t disappeared. Not yet.

“Thank you,” you murmured, “For apologizing.”

Azriel didn’t move. He kept looking at you, really looking at you, and you felt pinned beneath the weight of his gaze. His eyes had more green than Cassian’s. It wasn’t something you usually noticed—how the colors shifted in the light, how clear and startling they seemed up close. Now, though, you couldn’t seem to stop noticing, like every detail of him was suddenly magnified.

You wanted to stay angry. You deserved to. He’d hurt you, and that kind of hurt didn’t just disappear because he finally decided to show up and say the right things. But then his gaze held yours a little too long, his voice a little too raw, and that tightrope you’d built for yourself began to fray.  A sharp sting of guilt came, and you couldn’t shake it—couldn’t shake the growing realization that maybe you didn’t want to be angry at him. Maybe it wasn’t even anger anymore.

You cleared your throat as Azriel shifted his attention back to the kit, his shadows curling and shifting behind him. He grabbed a few butterfly bandages, his voice quiet when he spoke.

“You’re better to me than I deserve,” he said, almost to himself. “I think I convinced myself that it was a matter of time until the ball dropped—until you realized I wasn’t worth this friendship. I thought I’d finally reached that point. I almost just laid down and accepted it.”

You frowned at his words. 

Azriel always carried that shadow of self-loathing like a second skin, like he couldn’t believe anyone could see him as more than his darkest thoughts. As much as you wanted to heal him, to assure him that none of it was true, you knew better. It hurt to know that, after everything, he still didn’t believe it. Because, the truth was, Azriel wasn’t hard to love. It wasn’t hard to support him, to be his friend. He had his moments, as anyone did, but he was always there. Which, you supposed, is why the way he treated you hurt in such a deep, unique way.

The thought that he’d believed, deep down, that your friendship—your loyalty—could be so easily withdrawn, made something inside you ache. Made you sad. Angry. 

“I take back what I said earlier,” you murmured. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel’s lips twitched as he searched your face for any hint of a joke. His shadows perched on the apex of his wings, watching you both. Then, when his lips curled, just slightly, they began to move once more. 

“I have my moments,” Azriel said, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips. He glanced at you, checking if it landed.  “Maybe one too many head injuries is getting to me.”

“Maybe,” you said, the hint of a smile brushing your lips. “In that case, we should keep an eye on Cassian.”

Azriel’s breath escaped in a quiet, almost relieved laugh.  He carefully removed the butterfly bandages from their small packs, the silence settling around you once more. But the air felt heavy, like there was something unspoken hanging between you. Like you needed to say something to rid yourself of the pressure in your chest. 

“You can’t just lay down and accept it, Az,” you said, your voice firm. His eyes snapped to yours. “That’s not what friendship is. Not ours.”

Azriel nodded, his expression softening. “I know. I’ll do better.” 

You smiled faintly, nodding back. Watching as he turned his attention back to the bandages on your cheek, you took a slow breath. His scent washed over you as he leaned in, familiar and warm. For a moment, you almost let yourself close your eyes, just to breathe him in further, to let his scent linger. Had it always been like this? Or had Selene’s words made you overanalyze everything?

“I was shocked when Cassian told me what happened. I can’t believe that while I was busy kicking myself for not doing anything, you were trying to talk to Selene. Trying to be kind. Do you realize how crazy that is?”

His words weren’t disbelief—they were awe. As if he couldn’t comprehend why you’d chosen the harder path, the path of peace. You could barely believe it yourself, sitting with a scratched-up face and a mind full of unwanted revelations. But in the end, it had been simple. 

You’d done it for Azriel. 

You’d found sympathy for her because of Azriel. You’d set aside your anger, your pettiness, because you valued your relationship with Azriel more. Even after everything, after the way he’d treated you, you still believed in him. Believed in his ability to know what he wanted.

“Your happiness was worth it,” you said finally. “I didn’t want to be the one to stand in the way of it. To make things hard.”

Azriel stopped at that, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel exposed in a way you’d never felt before with him. You shrugged it off, trying to play it cool, and added with a dry chuckle, “Also, I figured if I did the noble thing, I’d get to hold it over you for a few centuries.”

Azriel laughed—a genuine, rumbling sound. His shadows fluttered around him. “Yeah, well, you can. More than a few centuries, actually, because you came out with some battle scars.”

You almost spoke again, but the breath left your lungs as you felt his fingers gently press the butterfly bandages to your skin. It was almost funny to think about how angry you’d been—rightfully so. But now, with the feel of his hands on you, it all began to ease. A specific sense of healing, like the betrayal you’d felt—at least in part—was being mended. That Azriel tending to you now, with the soft touch he so rarely granted, proved that he didn��t mean to hurt you. That he did care. And maybe you could give him a little grace for being a flawed male.

When Azriel turned back to the kit, you touched your cheek, feeling the cut deeper than you expected. You hadn’t realized how long it was. Mor’s earlier reaction made more sense now.

Azriel glanced at the wound, then back at you, brow furrowing. “Is it okay?”

You nodded slowly, a soft breath escaping as you winced slightly. “Yeah, just tender. Thank you.”

He nodded in acknowledgment and moved to place the last bandage. And then, almost too quietly, he murmured, “I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am.”

“I know.” You hesitated before adding, “But you’re going to have to make it up to me. You know that, right? This wasn’t enough.”

Azriel steadied his gaze on you, leaning back to face you fully. Suddenly, you weren’t sure if anyone had ever looked at you properly. Not like this. Not as he said, “I will. I promise. In ways that are better than some baked goods.”

“Well… I wouldn’t mind some croissants. They looked good.”

Azriel chuckled. “Oh really?”

Soft tendrils of his shadows weaved around you as you nodded, biting back a smile at the tone of his voice. Something so lively. So Azriel. Although you were used to them, you resisted the urge to shiver as his shadows threaded through the ends of your hair. 

“That’s odd,” he said. “I seem to recall them looking untouched. Some even squished.”

The memory of how you’d grabbed the pastry in frustration, squeezing it in your hand, brought a small smirk to your face. You shrugged a little. “I was pissed. I couldn’t give in.”

“In that case, I’ll buy out the whole bakery.”

You rolled your eyes, but the hint of a smile was still there. It was probably obvious to Azriel.  “The Spymaster supporting local businesses by single-handedly buying out a local bakery. How noble.”

He smiled at that, his expression lighter now—boyish, amused. But his words were sincere. “Whatever you need me to do. I’ll do it.”

“And if I told you to swim naked in the Sidra at night, when it’s cold and snowy?”

“I’d ask Rhysand to make an order for all the children to stay inside.”

You laughed at the thought, and the atmosphere shifted. For the first time in a while, it felt like the world had stopped turning its back on you. The anger, the grudge you’d been cradling like a newborn babe, didn’t feel so heavy now. 

Azriel stood, folding the bandages and packing away the medical supplies, and you found yourself watching him without meaning to once more. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly… beautiful he was. There was something in the angle of his jaw, the way the light caught his features that made your breath suddenly catch. He was always handsome, of course, but this was different. 

A sudden wave of curiosity bubbled up inside you. Before you could second-guess yourself, you spoke.  You’d never noticed the sharpness of his eyes, the intensity in them, the way his wings twitched when his shadows curled against them.

“Can I ask you something?” 

He paused, looking down at you with that soft gaze. “Always.”

“Why did you want to change into someone more loveable? Why stay with Selene?”

Azriel’s eyes flickered away, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I… I think I was jealous.”

“Jealous?”

Azriel nodded. Something sad washed through him, made him blink, made his wings fall an inch closer to the ground. “Everyone around us is finding love. They’re starting new lives.”

Something sharp jabbed at you, a bitter feeling you didn’t quite understand. Was there something wrong with you for not feeling the same need to fall in love?

“I’m not,” you said. 

The expression that took over Azriel’s face was one you couldn’t describe, but there was a new kind of weariness in it. His lips parted as though to say something else, but instead, he simply shook his head with a small, wistful smile. “It’s only a matter of time, Y/n.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re you. You’re amazing. It’s only a matter of time until you fall for one of your many suitors.”

You furrowed your brow, a bitter taste now settling on your tongue. You didn’t respond— didn’t know how to.

Azriel’s eyes darkened for a brief moment, his jaw tightening, but then his face softened. He exhaled slowly. When he spoke, his voice was quieter than before. “I didn’t think I could handle being alone when you moved on, too.”

The way he said it, the weight of it, made something ache inside you, like a deep hollow was opening up in your chest. You swallowed hard, wishing for something—anything—to ease the growing pressure behind your ribcage.

You wanted him to tell you more, to say something that would make sense of all this. But you didn’t know how to ask for that, didn’t even know what you wanted him to say. 

“Because you don’t want to be the last one standing?”

The silence that followed was almost suffocating. Azriel’s shadows seemed to quiet around you both.

Then, he gave you a half-smile—sad, lopsided, but somehow more real than anything he’d shown you in a long time. Not for months. Not since he began dating Selene. 

“Something like that.”

Before you could dwell on his words, on why they made you feel sad, disappointed even, Azriel finished packing up the kit and turned toward you.

“All done,” he said.

You blinked, pulled out of your thoughts, and nodded. “Oh. Cool. Thank you.”

You looked down at your hands, your fingers brushing over the growing bruises on your knuckles. Your hair fell forward, partially hiding your face, and before you could move it out of the way, one of Azriel’s shadows darted forward, tugging at the strand. You glanced up as he gently called the shadow back with a subtle motion. 

“So... how do I look?” 

Azriel's eyes flicked over you, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he reached forward, his hand brushing that same strand of hair from your face.

“Tough,” he said, slowly moving the strand back. “I think the bandages really bring out your eyes.”

And even though he’d done it a million times before, as Azriel tucked your hair behind your ear, something inside you cracked right open.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Part Five

authors note:

tending to wounds scene!!! tending to wounds scene!! mor has both bracelets??!? az and selene are done?!?! he's being weirdly calm abt the whole thing?!?! reader is THINKINNN...

now begins the fun time of reader wanting to let az grovel (bc he has entered his groveling era) but also overthinking everything and wanting him to just....go away. also fun time of reader having to prove to everyone that despite things she may...or may not... feel, her intentions with Az were neverr driven jealousy hehe

so fun!!! i have some fun ideas guys. thank yall for reading <3 i wonder if you can guess what might happen.... there are a few hints

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@marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters @starswholistenanddreamsanswered 

@feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @azrielrot @justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli 

@mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound

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[lifeasadorkwithnolife]

Letters Never Sent (Azriel X Reader)

   Word count: 3200

Azriel and the reader used to best friends, but when she left for the day court and he didn't even come say goodbye, she no longer knows where they stand. I love angst.

        

    Your time in the day court was nothing but welcoming. There seemed to be a different aura in the air there, a brightness that the night court didn’t have and the sweet smell of growth and spring wherever you turned. You and Rhys had agreed to station you here, with Helion, due to all the tensions throughout the courts. He hoped that your stay would ensure that Helion would not switch sides.

               You doubted Helion would, after eating meals with the high lord twice a day for a few months, you felt like you knew the true him. Helion was genuinely kind and caring of his people, and you could see that once he was an Ally, he would be an ally until the end. You spent your days roaming through the halls of his estate, looking at art or examining the flowers filling the vases down every hall.

               Although the day court was beautiful and occupied you, you missed your home, and you missed your friends. You received numerous letters from Mor and Feyre, telling you about recent events and updates about the males. Every word about Azriel piqued your interest and simultaneously filled you with a sense of anxiety, hoping that he was alright.

               As you arrived back in your room, you noticed a letter on your bed, enveloped in a dark red paper. You smiled to yourself, jumping on the bed and snatching it, nearly ripping it open and reading the words from Mor.

“Y/n,

I know that you are probably having a fantastic time with the day court high lord, you know I would be, but I must ask that you take a break from your serious work and come home to join us for starfall. We all miss you, and you know it is your favorite event of the year.

Cassian wants me to note that he insists that you come home, but we all trust the day court will be able to live a few days without your presence.

I expect to see you tomorrow night,

All my love,

Mor

               You smiled, hugging the letter to your chest as you looked around the grand room Helion had granted you. Despite Mors assumptions, you had not entertained Helion in anyway but your conversation and friendly company. You jumped off the bed, pulling the box of letters from under it and placing another letter to the pile. Over the months, Mor had sent you multiple letters, so had Feyre and Cassian, but none from the shadowsinger.

               You thought of Azriel and sighed, brushing your hair back from your face and leaning against the bed. Sure, Rhys had asked you to come for the sake of your court, but you had agreed to come here to get some space. And while you were gone, you had thought about him every day, written numerous letters and thrown them out, letters filled with sadness, then anger.

               He was one of your closest friends, someone that you had known for centuries, yet he didn’t even blink when you told him you were leaving, and he wasn’t even there to say goodbye.

               You could feel the tears well in your eyes and blinked them away, standing up and looking around the room. You grabbed a small bag from your wardrobe and started packing the essentials, although you had clothes at the night court, the day court attire was starting to grow on you. You actually enjoyed not wearing black all the time.

               You took one last look at the room as you closed the door, heading towards Helion’s chambers to let him know about your departure. As you walked in, your bag dropped from your hand and a gasp left your lips. Morrigan stood with him, deep in conversation.

               “Mor!” You shouted, running over to her and wrapping your arms around her frame. You could feel her jump and surprise, but then felt her arms wrap around you as well. “You’re here!”

               “of course I am, it’s not like you can winnow.” She teased, pulling you away and giving you a closer look. “How are you so tan? It’s only been 2 months.”

               “It’s almost as if she belongs here.” Helion mused, sending a wink in your direction. “Don’t be too long, Y/N. The day court will grow darker with each day of your departure.”

               “You’re so dramatic, “you teased, he gave you a handsome smile.

               “Grab your stuff and let’s go.” Mor ordered, and you grabbed the small bag from the floor. “It was nice seeing you again, I’ll pass on the message to Rhysand.”

               Helion gave you a short wave as mor grabbed your arm, and you could feel the normal rush of winnowing, the feeling of two pieces of fabric folding together. You were suddenly in the night court, and as you took a deep breath you could smell the familiar scent through the air of home.

               “Wow, it feels so good to be back.” You smiled, turning to look at Mor. She smiled back at you.

               “Thank you for writing to me, I swear, sometimes reading your letters was the only thing that kept me sane.” ‘

               “Oh I’m sure I wasn’t the only one.” Mor teased, wiggling her eyebrows. “I know I’ve seen plenty of ink stains on Azriel’s hands, how many letters has he sent you?”    

               “Yeah right.” You rolled your eyes, looking around for any hint of him. “Azriel didn’t send me any letters, he didn’t even say goodbye Mor.”

               “What, really?” Mor asked, and you two started walking to your old room. “That surprises me, he hasn’t been the same since you left. “

               “Well, I thought we were friends, but now I realize that’s not the case.” You huffed, Mor opened the door to your bedroom, and the familiar sight of your bookshelf and made bed made your heart drop to your stomach. You hadn’t realized how much you had missed this place. “You’re my friend, but he is definitely not.”

               “Maybe just ask him?” Mors voice ended on a higher pitch, sounding more like a question than a demand. “I don’t’ know, that just doesn’t sound like the Azriel I’ve been watching mope around.”              

               “I’m okay, really. You don’t need to worry about me.” You comforted, placing your stuff on your bed and laying back on it, staring at the stars drawn on the ceiling by Feyre.

               “Starfall is in a few hours, I’ll let you get settled in, but you have to come hang out with me today.” Mor scolded, and you nodded. The door quietly shut, and you were left alone. You sat up, leaning back on your hands as you stared around your old room.

               You had so many memories in the room, memories with him. You two had spent so much time together over the years, from drunk nights to pillow fights, to reading sessions in the small library. Azriel was unlike any other male, he was strong but also vulnerable. He knew how to take care of you but also knew when to let you take care of yourself. The friendship eventually turned into a crush, and then…well, things fell apart.

               Pillow fights turned into real arguments, drunk nights were spent by yourself, and reading did not feel the same without him next to you. Then you decided that you had let your feelings go too far, and you went to the day court.

               That day was full of tears, you hugged Mor and Cassian, and even Amren accepted a small hug, much shorter than the others. But as your teary eyes looked around, they found Rhysand and an emptiness you couldn’t describe. You had even stayed late, just hoping that Azriel would come and say bye, and some twisted part of you imagined that he would even ask you not to go.

               That didn’t happen, and the night ended with you arriving to the bright and sunny day court, with the feeling of heartbreak in your chest and tears in your eyes. That’s when you knew, Azriel never felt the same.

*

               You spent the next few hours getting ready for Starfall, putting on a nice dress and doing a light makeup. You were going to drink to your heart’s content, dance until your feet hurt and not think about Azriel at all.

               Mor came and got you shortly after that and led you down to the small balcony where Cassian, Rhysand, Feyre and Amren were waiting. You pretended not to notice the absence of the shadow singer. Lots of hugs were exchanged, and eventually as the sky grew darker, the laughter grew louder and the drunker you became.

               You pressed the glass to your lips, taking another sip of the wine when your eyes fell upon a figure on the other side of the balcony. He looked the same as always, black feathers, dark wings and a dark look in his eye. His shadows surrounded him, causing him to look hazy, or maybe that was the alcohol.

               You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the pang in your chest as you finished your glass, turning to Mor and holding it out for another pour. Mor obliged you, grinning and you two clinked your glasses. “Come back!” Mor laughed, her hand drunkenly reaching out and touching your cheek. “We all miss you!”

               “I’m doing something important.” You chided her, “I am…I am helping forge an alliance. That’s a big responsibility.”

               “Helion is loyal, and you know it.” Mor pleaded, “you can come back! We can have fun again!”

               “Not yet, I need more time.” You replied, and you were telling the truth as your eyes drifted back over to the Shadowsinger, who was inching closer.

               “Can I steal her for a second?” Azriel asked Mor, nodding his head towards you. Mor nodded, pulling away, but you grabbed her hand and pulled her back.

               “No you may not.” You replied.

               “I need to speak with you.” Azriel insisted, and you could feel Mor trying to pull away. “Please.”

               “Fine.” You huffed, letting her go and handing her your drink. “But let’s make it quick.”

               Azriel led you inside the house, holding open the door. Once you entered, you turned towards him, arms crossed in front of you. “Yes?” You asked expectantly, and his eyebrows rose.

               “Is something wrong?” He asked, looking around. “You seem angry.”

               “It’s because I am angry.” You retorted, “is there something I can help you with or can I leave?”      

               “I-what? Y/N, are you okay? You’re acting different.” Azriel’s eyebrow grew close together, and he took a tentative step towards you. As his arm reached out for you, you took a step back. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”

               “What’s wrong?” You laughed, disbelief coating your voice. “What’s wrong with you?”

               “Nothing! I just wanted to talk to my friend, who I haven’t seen in-“

               “We are not friends.” You growled, your laughter immediately fading away. His eyes narrowed. “You didn’t even come say goodbye to me when I left, I waited for you!”

               “I tried-“

               “I’m not done!” You shouted, turning around and running your hands through your hair. “I waited for you! I delayed my trip by an hour because I thought my FRIEND would want to say goodbye. You know what friends also do? They write letters.”              

               “Y/N please-“

               “Cassian wrote me letters, Mor wrote me letters- hell, even Feyre wrote me letters and she just learned how to write!” You shouted. You turned back to him, glaring at him with all the anger that has been growing since you left. You knew you should stop, you knew this was all because of the alcohol. “And now- now you want to talk, to a ‘friend’. Well, find another one to talk to because that is not me anymore.”

               “You don’t mean that.” Azriel replied, “We are friends, I swear.”

               “I want friends who care about me, you didn’t write me a single letter Az.” You growled, walking past him and ramming your shoulder into his. He moved out of the way, but you knew he wasn’t impacted in the least. “So no, we are not friends.”

               The door slammed and you walked back out on the terrace, but the magic of the night was gone. You grabbed your drink from Mor, taking another sip before the guilt started to settle over you. “Did you let him explain?” Mor asked, turning towards you. Once she saw the tears streaming down your face and your shaking hands, she took the glass and set it down and pulled you into a hug.

               “I told him we aren’t friends anymore.” You whispered, not even having the strength to wrap your arms around her. You had way too much to drink. “I..he broke my heart Mor, I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.”          

               She pulled away from you, a frown on her face as she evaluated you. She wiped tears from your cheeks. “I need to go say sorry.” You whispered, turning towards the glass door, but Azriel was gone.

               “Just give him some space and talk to him tomorrow.” Mor rubbed your back, and you nodded. “I think…I think I’m going to head up.”

               Mor nodded, patting your back. “You’re going to miss it if you go now.”

               “I’ll see it from my window.” You whispered, trecking into the house and making your way up the stairs. The house was quiet, and you made your way to Azriel’s door, hesitating before knocking on it.

               “Azriel?” You whispered, and after a moment you knocked again, no answer. You turned the knob, surprised when it opened easily, allowing you access into his room. You took a step, the whole room smelled like him. He had a large bed in the center of the room, large enough to encompass him and his large wings, and his windows were covered by a black curtain.

               You walked over to his desk, fingers trailing over the chair, and your eyes caught on a box. That box was definitely not here the last time you were in his room. You could see a piece of parchment sticking out of the side, and you looked around as you nosily pulled it free of its confinement.  

               You started to skim the words, immediately freezing as you stared at the smudged ink on the page. Your name, written in neat letters. Your eyes quickly skimmed the letter, the sound of your heart pounding filling your ears.

               ‘Y/n, I’ve spent all my nights and all my days thinking about what to write to you, but none of the words come out right. My whole world is quieter and so much sadder since you’ve left, I hope you can forgive me.”

You opened the box, seeing multiple crumpled up letters. You grabbed another one, skimming it.

               ‘I was coward for letting you leave with no fight, please- come home.’

And another,

               ‘I hope you are enjoying the Day Court, I know you will love it there. If you would ever like a visit, I’m sure I could arrange to see you, or if you would prefer Mor I know she would happy to oblige. I really hope you are happy Y/N.”

               “What are you doing?” Azriel’s voice sounded, and your head whipped to the door frame. “Why are you going through my things?”

               “I’m not-“You stuttered, and he walked over, ripping the letters from your hand and throwing it back in the box. You cringed as you heard the sound of crushed paper. “Please- what are those?”

               “Get out.” Azriel’s voice was monotone, and he didn’t look at you.            

               “Did you..are those from you?” You whispered, and he ignored you. You walked over, grabbing his arm. “Az, are those letters?”

               “Get out.” Azriel repeated, his face blank. He held the box firmly, and you knew you couldn’t rip it from him if you tried.

               “Why didn’t you come say goodbye to me?” You whispered, squeezing his arm. “Az, please, why didn’t you come say goodbye?”        

               “I didn’t want to.” Azriel retorted, not looking at you. “I didn’t care enough.”

               “That’s not true.” You whispered, “I hope…I hope it nots true. Just tell me.”

You let go of his arm, but he didn’t even look at you.  “I came in to say I’m sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it, I was just…I was just really mad, okay?”

               He didn’t say anything as you walked through the doorframe. You made you way down the hallway, and then you heard his deep voice.

               “I didn’t come because I knew I wouldn’t be able to let you go.” Azriel’s gruff voice filled the space, you turned around to look at him. He was walking swiftly towards you. “I didn’t come say bye because I knew you really wanted to go, and hell, you deserved to go, and I wasn’t going to stop you.”

               “Az-“

               “I’m not done.” He stopped in front of you, and you took a deep breath. “I regretted as soon as you left, but Rhysand told me to give you space. Then Mor started writing letters and I thought I would send some too, but I couldn’t get any of them right.”

               He grabbed the box from under his arm, opening it and dumping all the letters on the ground. There was at least twenty of them. “I felt so many things, I was happy for you but so angry that you left. I was so sad that you were gone, I would stay up for hours and just look at these blank pieces of parchment and wonder what was wrong with me.”

               “I wish you would have sent one.” You whispered, reaching down and picking up a random one. You read the words, immediately tears came to your eyes.

               ‘Y/N, I cannot express my feelings for you through a letter or even with words. If you feel even a quarter of what I feel for you, then you already know. You must know.’

               “Azriel…”You trailed, you eyes moving from the letter slowly up to his. His eyes had a flicker of hope as your hands shook. “You wrote these?”

               “I did.” He confessed.

               “Why didn’t you send them?” You whispred, picking up another one and reading the heatfelt words. This could not be happening right now. “Azriel-“

               “I didn’t know if you felt the same.” Azriel looked down, and you grabbed his arm gingerly. “I didn’t want to risk scaring you off and you never coming back. I was…I was going to tell you, earlier.”

               “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being mad.” You replied, but he shook his head.

               “You had every right to be, I should have been more straightforward. Which is why I want to be straightforward now.” Azriel straightened, his wings shifting behind him. “Don’t go back, stay here, stay with me.”

               “Az-“ You started, and he shook his head, your indication to be quiet.

               “Stay, don’t go.” He took a deep breath, “I can’t breathe when you’re not here, I can’t sleep, and…and I love you more than I know how to say. Every time you leave, you take a piece of me with you. So just don’t leave.”

               You stared at him, your heart thudding. You nodded, and he gave you a small smile, enveloping your hands in his. “I love you too.”

[zundely]

Oh Veilguard women how much I love you. And you know what I love most about them- they are friends and supportive of each other- I know, I know some people love whatever the heck Morrigan and Leliana had going on and I can appreciate a good bisexual denial read of that... but with a lot of dialogues I get a vibe that writers were going for a good girl vs bad girl dynamic. And as much as I love that we reclaimed it by making it gay I also love that in Veilguard we don't have to do that sort of work and for once we get just lots of very positive interactions that are still diffrent from each other and form diffrent dynamics.

I adore the relationship between Bellara and Neve- be it platonic or romantic honestly either way the sunshine optimis and hardened cynic coming together is cute as hell and very endearing to me. I love how supportive Harding is of Neve (Can I get you anything- tea? Cake? Arrow in his temple?). I love how Bellara and Harding figure out together the history of isatunol or how Bellara does try to replicate Harding's horrifying recipes.

I just *holds back tears* I just love women so much you know.

[extremely-judgemental]

Fandom mentality is strange.

We hear how Amarantha tortured Rhysand under the mountain, about his past and the loss of his family.

We hear how Keir brutalised Morrigan for her choices, how she was shunned and abandoned.

We hear about Cassian’s childhood, what was done to his mother, and how he struggled in the camps before Rhysand’s mother took him in.

We hear about Azriel’s captivity, how his half-brothers tortured him, how he was released into the camps only because of his powers, and how Cassian abused him before he offered help.

We see Tamlin falling in love with Feyre, sacrificing his people and court for her safety and sending her away, watching the woman he loves die, trying to protect her after her rebirth, begging her to not throw herself in danger, making a wrong choice in a moment of weakness. We see Tamlin apologising to Feyre without excuses, trying to do better by involving her in court matters and taking every one of her advice, and finally getting his court destroyed by the woman he gave up everything for.

We see Lucien accepting and growing fond of the mortal girl who killed his friend, willing to die for her when all Amarantha wanted was a name, risking punishment by helping Feyre after the task, be used as a bait in one of the tasks. We see Lucien fighting his friend and saviour and High Lord for the same mortal girl, get sexually assaulted by Feyre in her schemes, be only rescued in the last minute because Feyre hated Ianthe for hurting Rhysand. We see Lucien lose his only friend and home he ever had.

We see how traumatising the days of poverty were. We see Nesta and Elain kidnapped by the fae, thrown into the Cauldron and killed, be dragged into a war by Feyre and her friends, lose their home and lives.

We see Nesta being harassed by her sister to gain alliances in the war, forced to work for the fae, thrown into a battlefield because she has powers that they can exploit. We see Nesta watch her father die in front of her eyes, kill someone for the first time. We see Nesta being preyed upon by a fae/man in her room when she didn’t want to be touched, stalked when she asked to be left alone, locked in a tower with the same man because she was self-sabotaging, forced to train, work and live a life she didn’t want. We see Nesta be coerced by Cassian right after she was sexually assaulted by an ancient creature, almost dying too many times under the Inner Circle’s ‘care’.

Not that the Inner Circle and Feyre don’t deserve the sympathy for their past, they do. But there is a huge disconnect in how trauma is viewed and treated by the fandom. Despite watching it all play out on the pages, the others are said to ‘deserve’ the abuse and mistreatment. If there is more than what meets the eye or in some ways these characters warrant this, shouldn’t the Inner Circle be held to that standard given we only witness how poorly they treat others outside of their little club and betray everyone around them? All we witness is how horrible the Inner Circle is and never once their real plight. Still they get the most empathy and validation.

Like I said, fandom mentality is strange.

[krems-chair]

I've been thinking a lot today about how easily people condemn Solas for making the choices he did or for so regularly refusing the help and love his friends or a romanced Lavellan extended to him and how that's a very easy thing to do from behind a screen in a fictional game where you are able to (with very few exceptions) curate a world in which your allies are loyal and your decisions will go the way you'd like them to.

And yeah, it's a game and that's kind of the point, but if I were to look at it a little more deeply (and who am I kidding, I got back on this website exclusively to process the aftermath of Veilguard) I'd say that there's so much to be found in wondering if the protagonists in any of the other games would have fared better in similar conditions.

Apparently I can't stop making long posts, so buckle in.

What would Morrigan have become in a world where the Warden never stumbled upon her cottage with Flemeth, if she never got the chance to see more of the world and decide what she wanted out of it? With just her mother (who, coincidentally in this Solas-y discussion is also kind of Mythal) and no support, who is to say what she would have unleashed upon the Korcari Wilds one day when the confines of her cage became too much?

What about Leliana? She, too, suffered at the hands of a very controlling abuser who tried to convince her that one lifestyle was all that her future held. What do we think she would have become if not for a chance meeting in Lothering with someone who could help her face down the woman that molded her?

Fenris, a character MANY people are just fine with was incredibly ready to kill a mage on sight if need be, no questions asked. Where do we think his story goes if he doesn't have someone in his corner early on enough in the game? If he doesn't get caught by Danarius, he's almost certainly going to end up on a murder spree, and he doesn't even have Justice whispering in his head to do it.

Cullen. Just all of him. It's an absolute miracle he hasn't snapped by the time you encounter him in Inquistion, and even then you get the benefit of intervening at a critical point in his story several times over.

Almost every other character could face this analysis and I think we'd reach a result that suggests perhaps the only thing keeping them lovable is your playable character's investment in their well-being.

Enter Solas. We don't meet him when he's twenty to thirty something and on the precipice of falling down a dark path. He's been there for literal millennia already, and with the exception of one close friend he's been alone. And not even Felassan is enough because of the years Mythal had prior to that friendship to make Solas exactly who she needed him to be.

I've had shit friends before that aren't just good at isolating people, they're naturals. I barely made it through high school with my mental health in place (in fact, looking back, it almost certainly wasn't). When you think you've got a true friend and they need something of you, it's so easy to blindly follow them because you think your love is enough to mark someone's soul as trustworthy. Solas doesn't learn that lesson until it's too late, and even when he does he can't turn back: the spirit that was once Wisdom has been exposed to several of the worst ancient elves to ever exist and now he has to stand his ground rather than let it all fall, because that is what Pride would dictate. Admitting that the person you gave your love and labor and time to is a monster is hard. And he was alone.

Give me Morrigan after centuries with her mother. Show me Leliana after the years have become a blur and the only voice whispering in her ear is Marjolaine's. Show me the innocent mages that don't make it through if all Fenris has for years and years and years are the scars Danaris left him and the means to make more. Show me Cullen if he stays in a chain of command under a Knight Commander who knows exactly what he fears and holds it over his head for so long he forgets what it was like to be an excited kid begging the templars for training because he just wants to keep people safe.

We get companions in these games who are broken by the time they're twenty. Solas has spent thousands of years in servitude to a cause of a woman he believed to be his only friend. He doesn't know who he is without her influence, anymore, only exists physically in the first place because she asked it of him and then asked again and again and again. He doesn't have a witty band of merry fools to pull him out of that cycle. He has Felassan, but he has him during war after war after war in the hopes of freeing others from the very situation that torments him.

Trauma from war affects everyone touched by it, nevermind the fact that Solas is actively responsible for saving the lives of thousands and feels each life like a weight around his neck because maybe he can save them like he cannot save himself. We should always be worried about the people trying to do the most good. Who is looking out for them? Why are they so determined to help others? Could it be that it's something they wish others had done for them?

Solas certainly feels comradery with Felassan from working together to free slaves from the very people he helped put in power because Mythal told him it would be okay only to leave him with the pieces, but even the Solas that Felassan knows has been turned into an attack dog shying away from the touch of the very person it desires to be near above all others by the time their relationship forms.

The fact that Solas is able to try and show the Inquisitor who he is at all is a miracle as far as I'm concerned, a sign of a peaceful spirit of Wisdom who loves knowledge for the sake of it finally sensing that there might be a chance to embrace its nature again.

Yeah, if you give him what he has come to expect from people with power, if you let near-absolute power over the masses corrupt you, he's going to bristle and try to shut your inquisitor down.

But if you show him even the smallest bit of kindness? If you treat him like the starving wolf he talks about and feed him instead of fighting him? God, it shatters his entire existence.

It's called a cycle of abuse for a reason. Finding friendship, finding the love of your long-ass life can be the first step in realizing there's better out there. But the time it takes to learn that? When you're too weary to even reach out for help in the first place and afraid of every kind word or gesture because you've never known such tenderness (on a platonic OR romantic level, both matter so so much) before?

Part of the compelling tragedy of Solas is that it's almost Orpheus-like how he knows what he has been made into and still cannot stop himself from yearning for more, from turning around to see if just this once something has changed. You can't convince me that he hasn't spent years hoping that someone will hear the legend of the Dread Wolf and see it for what it is, a leash the Evanuris created for Mythal's whipping boy to ensure that even if he ever escapes them, the people he fought to save will hate him. And I cannot blame him for the shock and terror that consumes him when he realizes someone finally has.

You give me any of dragon age companions after the amount of time Solas spent under Mythal's thumb without your character's intervention and you tell me how that looks.

You tell me if they're able to change at the first sign of something that feels too good to be true.

And then, I want you to tell me they're any less worthy of trying to save, especially when you know how good their best can be.

Solas might be hard for some fans to love, but it's only because he serves as the perfect representation of the beast we are all capable of becoming when the love that sustains us, assuming we receive any at all, is laced with poison.

The journey out of that place, out of a literal prison of regret, is brutal, and I'm thrilled that even with the many things about Veilguard I'm still struggling with, we have the chance to let Solas try again with the help of those who love him not because he never fell down, but because they believe in the beauty of a future where he gets back up again.

[suuuupernovaaa]

The Book Seller - Azriel x F!OC (Part 1/3)

Summary: Azriel meets his mate at long last, thanks to Nesta’s reading habits.

Content Warnings: None

Part 2, Part 3

The package arrived just before closing on a Saturday, hours after one of my favorite customers, The High Lady’s sister, had been in to check on it. Three books I’d recommended to her, an ancient romance between warrior and queen.

She had been waiting for weeks for these to arrive, and now she’d have to wait two more days. I sighed, thinking of the excitement that shone in Nesta’s eyes when she’d entered my bookshop earlier that day, and set them under the desk to wait safely for her.

The bell dinged and I looked up to see a tall blonde dressed in red. Her face looked familiar, but I’d never seen her before, I thought.

“Hello!” she greeted.

“Good evening,” I nodded with a smile.

Instead of browsing, she approached my desk. “Nesta sent me to check on her books. I’m Mor.”

My jaw fell a little slack at that. Of course, this was the Morrigan. As stunning as ever, dressed in her signature red, with her blonde locks side swept. “Of course! I have them, they just arrived.”

“She’ll be thrilled, she talks about them non-stop. Not to me but, you know,” she said with a wink, and all I could do was smile, because I did not know. Did Mor not like Nesta?

“She actually asked me to bring you to the house if they were ready,” Mor said, and I blanched.

“What?”

“Asked for a personal delivery! Of course, you don’t have to. But, you could join us for dinner, if you want.”

Us. Did she mean, the High Lord and Lady? Their inner circle? The handsome warriors, Feyre’s sisters, everyone? The thought had my normally tan cheeks turning pale.

I ran my hands over my pale green dress. It was very simple, something for work, flattering but unthreatening.

Morrigan smiled at me in a disarming way. “Yes, please come! It’s so fun to have guests. Dinners are very informal.”

I glanced once over at her beautiful gown, and looked at her skeptically. She laughs, a beautiful, melodic sound.

“I promise. Please, join us.”

“Oh, sure,” I replied a little shakily, and grabbed Nesta’s books, carefully packaged under my desk in brown paper tied with twine. “Let me just close up.”

I stepped around my wide wooden desk and entered into the bowels of my store. Thousands of books surrounded us, on tall, dark shelves in front of walls painted a dark emerald green. Plants sat atop the bookshelves and between sections by genre, adding an earthy scent and feel to the space. Though books were my first love, plants and flowers were not far behind.

I went through the steps I went through every day to shut down the store, speeding a little and telling myself that tomorrow was my off day, and I could come fix any mistakes I made in my haste.

Once everything was prepared, I rejoined the High Lord’s cousin at the front door, and she beamed at me as if we had been friends for years.

“I’ll winnow us up!” she said cheerily, and extended a hand to me. My shaky palm found hers, and she winked before we disappeared.

—

The home was even more beautiful than I could have imagined. Set into gorgeous red rock, we landed on a sprawling landing, with intricate flooring and a beautiful view of our beloved city below.

“Wow,” I said with a sigh, looking down at where we came from moments ago.

Mor, surely used to such a breath taking view, waved me on towards the large archways that led into a very formal looking dining room. Tall ceilings. Stone and marble everywhere. It was truly stunning.

I glanced down again at my appearance, and shuddered. I hadn’t even thought to freshen my face or tie my unruly curls back into a braid or bun. I surely fit in more with the serving staff than those I would be dining with.

My heart thundered in my chest as I followed the blonde into the elegant dining room. A few people were present already, and I breathed a sigh of relief to see Nesta next to the table, standing and talking with her mate, Cassian. I had met him once or twice, when he stopped to pick something up for Nesta.

They turned to see Mor, and Nesta’s normal scowl turned to an almost smile when she saw me, package in hand.

“Holly!” she said warmly, walking to close the gap and meet me. “Thank you for making a home delivery for me.”

I extended the package to her, and she noticed the shake still present in my hands. As she took the books, her hands lingered over mine for a moment, and she leaned close.

“Don’t let this group intimidate you. They are informal, and you’re my special guest.”

Cassian joined her side and smiled down wide and warm as she stepped back with her books.

“Nesta must be your favorite customer, for you to come all this way,” he said, a teasing glint in his eye.

I smiles back at him, glad for Cassian’s natural talent to put anyone at ease.

“She is, actually. We share a taste in books, and hardly anyone else takes my recommendations so readily as your mate,” I replied, and Nesta gave me another small smile.

Footsteps alerted us to more joining, and my nerves became alight again as I looked to the eastern entrance and saw three figures entering.

I was at a loss for what to do when I saw my High Lord and Lady enter, trailed behind by the infamous shadowsinger.

Though I knew this group is a part of their people, frequenting our town and shops and night life, they were still our leaders - still something else, above us, and my spine stiffened, even though the entered with wide smiles and relaxed shoulders.

As they approached, I bowed, and Cassian laughed.

“No need,” said the High Lord in a deep, silky tone. “Nesta speaks of you, well, more than she speaks of almost anyone.”

I looked up to meet his deep blue gaze to see warmth and welcome there. At his side stood Nesta’s sister, their son in her arms. 

“Thank you for joining us,” Feyre said warmly, and the baby, nearing toddler, nuzzled his head into his mother’s shoulder.

They looked resplendent, the two of them together, and I was again at a loss for words. We owed so much to the people in these room, and I felt unworthy of being here.

“It’s truly my honor. I… thank you both,” I said, hoping they read the meaning in my eyes.

The baby, jet black hair like his father and a regal nose like his mother, lunged for me then, nearly leaping from his mother’s arms. She gasped, and I scooped him up on instinct, after years of being an aunt to my sibling’s children.

“Oh hello!” I cooed, and he put a chubby hand on my cheek, staring into my eyes.

Nesta laughed. “Well, Nyx likes her.”

I turned to Rhysand and from behind him, the Shadowsinger stepped around, joining our small circle.

I was over come with how utterly breathtaking he was. Tall and slender, though his black shirt and pants revealed the taught muscles beneath. His golden eyes were shining as he stared at the babe in my arms, and I could look nowhere but at his beautiful, golden-brown face.

His eyes rose from the child to meet mine, and I felt it then.

A thread. A tug. From his chest to mine. A calling - like to like.

Mate to mate.

His mouth fell open, a breath escaping, and I clutched the baby to me to stop from dropping him.

“Mate,” Azriel whispered, and everyone around us fell silent.

[lafaiette]

So, the localization file of Veilguard was found thanks to datamining, and it contains Some Stuff about Solas, Solavellan, and some cut ending stuff.

No idea if these lines were cut because of budget/resource reasons, if they are old scraps left of Joplin or if the writers simply changed their minds. Please keep in mind they are in jumbled order/there are different responses, probably due to different choices and the dialogue wheel.

Under the cut because of spoilers.

Solas and Fen'Harel

"I must hold back the blight! My wolf will distract Elgar'nan while you take the dragon!" "Did I see that right? The Dread Wolf is a separate spirit from Solas?" "Nice. Why does he get to be part wolf?" "Yeah. Seems like Fen'Harel is a merging of the two."

It seems like Solas and his wolf self are two separate spirits - perhaps similar to Falon'Din and Dirthamen, who are confirmed to be the same spirit who split into two different aspects.

Final dialogue with Solas (Solavellan edition)

"The blight is its prison. The world is safe." "Until the Veil collapses, and demons kill thousands of people." "If there were another way…" "There [i]is[/i]. Let the Veil stay in place." "The elven people must be restored. They do not deserve what was done to them." "Neither did the Titans." "Neither did Mythal. Either time." "Those are my mistakes. Only I can correct them." "I'm here to help you." "You think you have to do this alone. But you don't." "Every time, it has come down to my choices." "Are you a god?" "I am the furthest thing from it." "Then stop acting like one. Let someone else help you." "Do the right thing." "You want to be a hero? Then save the world. Right now." "The restoration of the world as it was meant to be…" "That's not saving the world, that's saving your pride." "Is that why you think I am doing this?" "I think you're doing this because you think that you have to. But you don't." "You have to forgive yourself." "You know how I got out of the Prison of Regrets? I let it go." "Varric's death was never truly your fault." "And you didn't cause every problem. You tried to fix them." "And every time I failed." "The world's still here. You got some of it right." "I cannot. To stop now would dishonor those I've wronged to come this far." "Even if those you wronged asked you to stop?" "Vhenan. And… Morrigan?" "One appellation among the many I wear, Dread Wolf." "I have been advisor to Orlais, Witch of the Wilds, daughter of Flemeth… and once, long ago, an old friend." "Mythal…" "You never would have left the Fade and taken on that humble form had I not been the one who first convinced you." "The things that I have done…" "Are not for you alone to bear, my friend. The many wrongs we did, we did together." "It is not too late to stop this. Banal nadas. Ar lath ma, vhenan." "My life force now sustains the Veil. With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures. " "The Titans' dreams are mad from their imprisonment. I cannot kill the blight, but I can help to soothe its anger." "What I've done, I will atone for." ""But you do not have to go alone." "Thanks to you, I can see the way."

Rook and Solas' final confrontation if Rook tries to convince him to stop was apparently supposed to be much longer, with Solas mentioning the elven people and the Titans, Varric's death, and Rook acknowledging he always did try to save the world.

It seems there was also one more line Solas would say to Lavellan after her "But you do not have to go alone." -> "Thanks to you, I can see the way."

The Inquisitor's happily ever after

"So you have to stop Solas, but not in a way that prevents him from stopping the blight." "Let Solas put the blight into its nice new prison, then we'll put him in there with it." "So with Solas and the elven gods out of the picture, where does that leave us?" "Nothing. He didn't deserve his little happily ever after." "If there's anyone who can reason with the blight, it's him." "The Inquisitor believed in him. [i]She [/i]deserved her happily ever after, even if that's helping Solas fix his mistakes." "And so the Dread Wolf shall spend eternity in the knowledge that he stood at the precipice of disaster and was saved by a mortal's wisdom." "Then why maneuver matters so as to deliver it to him?" "Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain were villains trying to conquer and blight the world." "Solas did terrible things, but he was trying to help. I can understand that." "He was wrong, not evil." "She waited many years for him. You are kind indeed to ensure those years were not in vain." "I am surprised less that he would seize upon such a chance for redemption, and more that you would offer it. " "The Inquisitor earned it." "He's working off his debt. After all, I don't think there's anyone else alive with the power and perspective to try to heal the blight." "Few would react with such compassion to the Dread Wolf's trickery. What merits him a fate fairer than Elgar'nan or Ghilan'nain?" "True. Even had I Mythal's full power, she and I often struggled to mend feelings we might have broken." "'Twould not be the first time he accomplished something Mythal herself thought impossible." "And so the Dread Wolf is stopped by, of all things, love." "Surprised?" "He's fixing his mess."

Lines for the different ways Rook can handle Solas' fate. Rook and Morrigan discuss Lavellan and Solas' chance at happiness, with Rook deciding to help them reunite despite Solas' trickery; Rook deciding to lock Solas away with the Blight; probably a line referencing a friend Inquisitor or Rook themselves ("Solas saved by a mortal's wisdom") and one referencing Lavellan ("Solas saved by love").

Epilogue

"It may mean nothing. Or everything. What matters is that the Solas is content, and we need no longer fear him tearing down the Veil." "So, Rook, what's the plan?" "[i](Sighs)[/i] Damn it." "Thank you." "Then it sounds like you have work to do. I'll leave you to it." "Good luck, Rook. Enjoy the adventures to come. " "I'm sorry, vhenan. If there had been another way..." "And now he'll spend who knows how long trying to heal the blight? What does that even mean?" "I can think of few things he'd have hated more." "He made a cage with bars made out of his worst weaknesses. He's not getting out on his own." "And we're certain there's no way for him to escape?" "Trapped forever in a prison with the blight." "Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain are also both dead. 'Tis no great loss there, the blighted fools." "So, Rook: How does it feel to have saved the world?" "Honestly, I have no idea." "Don't be so shy with your feelings, Morrigan." "We were all young once, were we not? 'Tis from such humble seeds that great things are grown." "Tell that to Mythal." "When the next aspiring deity lays claim to our world, you are the woman who shall remind them that even gods can die." "You are really bad at inspiring speeches." "Despite these rough edges, you forged a team that saved all of Thedas. Precious few can claim that." "I notice you left out one elven god—the only one still here in any capacity." "When the next aspiring deity lays claim to our world, you are the one who shall remind them that even gods can die." "You're leaving me to handle this?" "Were Mythal younger, she might have wished to rule again. Were I younger, I might have agreed with her." "Hey, the world is still here and isn't blighted or covered with demons. I think we did okay." "Says the woman carrying the god who made most of the mess I had to clean up." "And prepare yourself for whatever storm next clouds our skies." "I did save the world." "Who else? Make no mistake, you could do with a finer touch in matters of politics. " "You're not very good at this." "Even with Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain dead, the Venatori remain a threat, as do the Antaam and darkspawn. "

It seems there was supposed to be an additional scene after the ending, with Rook and Morrigan discussing the future. The dialogue would change depending on Solas' fate/Rook's choice about him.

That "Solas is content, and we need no longer fear him tearing down the Veil." probably refers to the ending with Lavellan, while it's not clear if that "I'm sorry, vhenan. If there had been another way..." is supposed to be there (maybe Solas apologizing again for bringing her to what he believes will be a terrible place?) or if it's referring to another scene.

The lines about him being stuck in a prison made out of his worst weaknesses, being unable to get out on his own, and spending a very long time trying to heal the Blight, something he hates, all sound like lines that would fit his bad endings.

One last mission

"Rook gives the team their seventh pep talk after the Finale." "We're sticking together. The gods might be dead, but there's more to do in this world." "We'll find Harding or Davrin. Somehow." "The eighth pep comes after nearly all content has been completed." "Weird shit is going on. What are the clues we have? The Executor, the Devouring Storm - what does it mean?" "We don't actually know. But it sounds bad. So we need each other more than ever." "On return to Rivain Island, defeat the Executor and collect the Memento for Davrin/Harding"

There is a cut scene + mission with Rook talking to their team after the ending and going to Rivain for one last mission. It's pretty much confirmed the cutscene was supposed to take place in the Lighthouse, there are old files and flags for it. If you pay attention after the ending sequence, you will see your Rook appear in the Lighthouse for a millisecond, the only trace left of that scene.

[seeker-ophelia]

Mythal, Solas, and Lavellan

So there’s lots of discussion about Mythal and Solas, and we need to talk about it.

I too, at first, was mad that Lavellan wasn’t enough for Solas.

And then I started thinking about it.

Not only was Mythal his mother, his creator, she coaxed him into being. Into changing his spirit and his purpose.

Regret Number 1.

He let her use his knowledge and wisdom to do a terrible thing, to kill (tranquil) the titans, changing a whole race of people at a molecular magical level.

Regret Number 2.

When that choice created the worst power known to Thedas (the blight) he was responsible again. And Mythal asked him to step up and fight against it, and he did. And a lot of people died.

Regret 3.

Mythal DIED. (IMO The gods blighted her because she stood against them for wanting to use the blight but that’s not important here). And Solas blames himself.

From Solas’ perspective, he is her puppy. Her Emerald Knight. Her General. Her Protector. Her Wisdom. Her servant, her SLAVE. He is BOUND TO HER. And he caused her downfall.

And you’re all like, GEAS! GEAS!

But wait.

From HIS perspective.

Rook says something somewhere along the lines of like, by abstainsing from being the good guy (oh wait maybe it was Varric in the fade…)

By choosing to be the villain instead of the hero is he absolving himself of the guilt (regret) that comes from having to have made those choices.

From Solas’ perspective, he is her slave.

LOOK AT HIS BODY LANGUAGE.

He is a worm in the dirt in front of her. He is a scolded child, a puppy with his tail between his legs.

But in the eyes of Mythal, he was always her friend. The one person who had always stood by her. She did not literally entrap him, or bind him. It was all in Solas’ own head.

He refused to take accountability for his actions, only able to survive through the crushing weight of his own guilt by blaming it on servitude to Mythal.

That’s why Rook escaped the prison. Because she faced her own choices, choices with terrible consequences, and accepted them. Took responsibility for them, and promised to do better.

Remember, after the Temple of Mythal…

Solas…

You gave yourself into the service of an ancient elvhen god!

What does that mean exactly?

You are Mythal’s creature now, everything you do whether you know it or not will be for her. *** You have given up a part of yourself.

***THIS WAS NEVER TRUE. IT WAS NOT TRUE FOR FLEMYTHAL & MORRIGAN, NOR WAS IT TRUE FOR ABELAS, NOR WAS IT TRUE FOR SOLAS. HE JUST WANTED TO BELIVE THAT IT WAS.

…I suppose it is better you have the power than Corypheus. Which leads to the next logical question… What will you do with the power of the Well once Corypheus is dead?

The war proved that we can’t go back to the way things were. I’ll try to help this world move forward. **Lavellan is talking about the mage/templar conflict, but Solas is putting her in his own shoes. Solas reached for power he could not control and fucked the whole world up.

You would risk everything you have with the hope that the future is better? What if it isn’t? What if you wake up to find that the future you shaped is worse than what was? **

**This is literally him asking her what she would do in his shoes. He woke up and the world was in chaos OF HIS MAKING. To prevent an evil HE CAUSED from spreading, he orchestrated the downfall of the people he loved and swore to protect.

I’ll take a breath, see where things went wrong, and then try again.

Just like that?

*He is in shock that she can be so cavalier about the guilt that has rocked him for (4?) millennia.

If we don’t keep trying, we’ll never get it right.

*And this is the only thing that calms him down.

You’re right. Thank You.

For what?

You have not been what I expected, Inquisitor, you have… impressed me.

You have offered hope that is one keeps trying, even if the consequences are grave… that someday, things will be better.

Then, of course, he takes this to mean that he needs to try to put The Evanuris in a different prison and take down the veil which isn’t at all what we meant sweetie but that’s okay get up and try again.

This is a classic case of a person in power not understanding the terrible, horrible consequences of unfettered power imbalances. Because Solas was always Friend to Mythal (Im not going into Freudian sex shit with you weirdos right now).

Solas was Mythals FRIEND.

Mythal was Solas’ EVERYTHING.

co·de·pend·en·cy

/ˌkōdəˈpend(ə)nsē/

noun

excessive emotional or psychological reliance on a partner,

His Mother, General, Creator, Protector, Queen, Goddess.

And he loved her so fiercely with every fiber of his new, physical being.

And he hated it.

And when Lavellan fell for him, and he for her, he was afraid.

Because he would never force a spirit against her purpose, and in his eyes the only way to love is the sick and twisted way he loved Mythal.

But again, from Mythal’s perspective, it wasn’t twisted. Solas was just Solas. And once again the powerful care not for the thoughts and opinions of those beneath them.

And that sin is on Mythal.

And that’s why she comes out and talks to Solas. Both aspects of her. To release him from the bonds that never existed. Be free, friend. You always were, but if you need me to say it I will because I love you.

“I pulled you from the fade and sent you into war. I used your wisdom as a weapon… and it broke you.”

Cole: Is there a way to save more spirits, Solas?

Solas: Not until the Veil is healed. The rifts draw spirits through, and the shock makes demons of them.

Cole: Pushing through makes you be yourself. You can hold onto the you. Being pulled through means you don't have enough you. You become what batters you, bruises your being.

Be free.

“The things that I have done…”

“Are not for you to bear alone, my friend. The many wrongs we did, we did together.”

And he COWERS before her. Shaking and shuddering. FNALLY being absolved of the guilt he’s carried since his inception.

“I release you from my service.”

And he SOBBS. At the RELIEF.

And Lavellan kneels before him (wrong, IMO because they should be equals but its fine)

And he can go back to his original purpose.

Not Pride.

Not Knowledge.

Not even Wisdom.

But Protection.   

“My life force now sustains the veil. With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures.”

The Shepherds Wolf. Protecting his flock from those who would do them harm.

And Lavellan promises it won’t be terrible, as long as they’re together.

And maybe Solas can try this different kind of love. A love built on respect, and trust, instead of fear, and obedience.

And he can be his purpose, Protection, and also be a man. And love his vhenan.

Because he is free.

[myfictionaldreams]

request: nyx x female reader where they’re matted but don’t know it and reader visits him at the illyrian camps and she gets hurt and nyx loses it

Don't Touch // Adult!Nyx (ACoTaR) x Fem!Reader

A/N: I can't even thank you enough, anon, for this request! I've been desperate to write something like this (especially including my sweet love Nyx; I have an entire headcanon/long-form story of him already, oops). Thank you for requesting! To you or anything else, please request more SJM fics, I am adoring writing them.

Warning: there is a description of visibly seeing the colour of bruising on the skin. Also, intense emotions and responses to situations due to the mating bond.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, minor injuries, possessive behaviour/sex, obsessive behaviour, over-the-top reaction (or just right depends how you like your partners), threats of violence, aggression, rough sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, size kink, intense emotions/sex, sex until passing out :)

Words: 6.3k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

"I've never seen you like this before, Mor" You observe your friend closely as the beautiful blonde woman checks her reflection in the glass of a passing shop.

Morrigan paused, where she was currently trying to perfect her already stunning hair. Trying not to baulk from the intense, fiery stare that turned your way as she raised a single well-groomed eyebrow and attempted to sound as unconcerned as possible, "I don't know what you're referring to. I'm acting completely and utterly sane".

Linking an arm with your friend, you both continued to walk as you sarcastically agreed, "Oh yes, of course. Except that was the tenth time you've stopped to stare at your reflection and tried to fix your already pristine hair, Morrigan".

Mor rolled her brown eyes playfully, moving closer as a brisk wind brushed over the two of you. "You already know I'm vain; why is it such an issue if I want to stare at myself?" she asked, leading in the direction the two of you were walking.

"I didn't say there was an issue. I'm just pointing out that we're heading towards a certain someone's shop, and she's going to love how you look no matter what". Mor hid her face for once, but you could still see the rosy colour deepening in her cheeks.

She quickly recovered by lifting her head and flicking the blonde strands behind her shoulders. "You're one to talk. I've seen you searching over your shoulder 50 times now. Wouldn't it be because of a certain family member of mine, would it?"

There was no hiding the grin that spread across your face as your pulse quickened ever so slightly. "Nyx doesn't even know that I'm in Windhaven. I might not even see him; I'm not here for him."

"Who says I was talking about Nyx? I'm pretty sure Feyre and Rhys are here too", she laughs as you shove your shoulder into hers playfully. As you both calm down, Mor's expression turns more serious. She glances at you, "I'm surprised he hasn't sensed you're here yet. I also don't necessarily think he'll welcome you with open arms; he's attempted to shield you from this side of his life. As hard as we are trying to change the cultures and traditions of the Illyrians, most of them are still unpleasant to be around, especially if you happen to be a female, wings or not."

"You didn't have to bring me here, you know".

"Yes, well, don't make me regret it. Stay nice and close to me, and anyway", Mor paused as she paused outside Emeries shop. "I needed an excuse to come here", she admitted with as much sheepishness as Morrigan would ever allow another person to see.

You couldn't help but grin as you squealed, "Ha! I knew it!"

The bell dinged above the shop door as you followed the blonde through the door. The answer, welcomed by Emerie by the counter, "There you both are! Welcome to Windhaven, stay away from the males, and please have a lovely time", she beams, walking around the counter towards Mor.

Glancing around to give both women a private moment, you admired her shop and eyed some of the winter clothing that would be perfect for the cold weather approaching Velaris in a few months. As you ran your fingers over the lining of a beautiful coat and casually suggested over your shoulder, "If you want, I can watch the shop if you two happen to find your way upstairs. Didn't you say you have some new socks in the back room?"

"Oh yes, thank you for the reminder!" Emerie played with your antics and took Mor's hand, dragging her into the back. Smiling at seeing their happiness, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to the man whom you'd been searching for from the second of landing in Windhaven.

You and Nyx had been friends since childhood. You'd spotted a young boy flying over the Sidra, mesmerised by the freeness of his movements, not watching where you were walking, tripped and scratched your knee on the pavement. Having watched it all from the sky, Nyx landed beside you and helped you home. He hadn't laughed like the other children; he'd shown compassion and kindness.

The son of the High Lord and Lady quickly became one of your closest friends, spending every waking hour possible together when you weren't in lessons or he was in training. Along the way, lines became blurred, and you were infatuated with one another. The relationship was intense, to say the least, and the two of you often joked about being mates, but no sign of the bond had occurred yet.

Not that this mattered to you. You were thoroughly and obsessively in love with Nyx, and he was with you. In fact, his obsession and possessive behaviour were renowned throughout Velaris. Every occupant knew that you were Nyx's; if a single hair on your head was out of place, he would bring all of the power of the Night Court down on them. It was extreme at first, but in truth, you were not much of a fighter, so being able to walk around Velaris with the reputation of belonging to Nyx was a relief.

Now, however, it had been weeks since you saw him as he'd been training with the other Illyrians, and even though he used his daemati skills to talk mind to mind with you or he left intimate little notes throughout your home, it couldn't ease the ache in your chest. So when Mor mentioned visiting Emerie's shop in Windhaven, you jumped at the opportunity to see, hoping you'd run into him, even if he didn't want you near the camps.

Lost in your thoughts of black hair and vibrant blue eyes, you'd not noticed that someone had entered the shop until a male growled from behind you, "Where is she?"

Jumping and turning on the spot, you looked the Illyrian over from the golden-brown skin covered in the darkest black tattoos that stretched up his neck and over the sides of his shaved head, leaving a tuft of hair down the centre. His membranous wings were widely spread as he stood in a defensive stance, fists tightly clenched at his side and armour creased from lack of care.

"Who?" you asked innocently, facing him fully and trying not to let his anger intimidate you even though you could already smell the sourness of your anxiety and fear in the air. The stranger walks forward, the tips of his wings knocking into a collection of hats, all toppled to the floor. "Watch where you're walking!"

The male stops a step away, tilting his head and frowning with even more vigour, "What did you just say to me?" As he took another step forward, you matched his step with one backwards until you were pressed against the wall with him towering over you.

"Just - Just watch it, ok? You're knocking over the display" You pointed to the knocked-over items, but he didn't take his eyes off of you, searching over your body until your skin crawled with discomfort.

"Wherever that thief is, give her this", he shoves the letter that had been screwed up in his meaty hands into your chest. You gasp out loud at the pain that rips through your shoulder, knowing it is going to bruise, and you have to look away to hide the tears that had formed as you grasp the letter and watch him leave.

It was only as the bell rang as the male exited that Emerie and Mor rushed into the room with a dagger in hand as they rushed to your side. If it wasn't for the shock and pain in your shoulder, you would have commented and jested how they both looked flustered with dishevelled hair and swollen lips, but this was the last thing on your mind now.

"Who was just here? Why do you smell of fear?" Mor asked as she rested a hand on your arm, looking at you furiously with concern.

"I don't know his name, but he gave me this for you, Emerie." You held out the letter, ignoring how your fingers trembled as she accepted it with a roll of her eyes.

"His name is Prumlos. He works closely with my uncle, and they believe they have rights to my shop. No matter how often I tell them, they keep coming back. Unlucky for me, he trains here in Windhaven and often brings new threatening letters from my extended family. He's a really brute", she pauses as she eyes you closely, "are you ok? Did he harm you in any way?"

Swallowing the thick lump formed in your throat, you attempt to compose yourself, not wishing to seem weak in front of these two strong females. Maybe you'd been sheltered too much throughout your life, but you didn't want to be emotionally broken just because one arrogant male was rude to you, even if your shoulder throbbed terribly.

"He just gave me the letter", you managed to spit out, not looking either female in the eye.

"Bullshit. I can still smell your fear; what did he do?" Mor demanded, stepping closer.

"Nothing! I mean, he was just an arrogant male and just wanted to scare me. I'm fine, really. But could we go, please? Sorry, I know we've only just arrived. Maybe I can wait for you in the High Lord's mother's home, Mor? I just need to be shown the way". You held your breath, waiting for Mor to answer, hoping she didn't try to question you further, but thankfully, she agreed.

"I'm sorry you've been shaken up; I hope it hasn't deterred you from coming to visit me every so often," Emerie smiled gently while holding your hand.

Thanking her, you and Mor left the store and began walking down the street. "Are you sure you're ok? I can see you're still shaken up; talk to me, Little star", Mor asks a couple of silent minutes later and hearing the nickname the inner circle had named you from a child finally brought a smile to your face.

But then Mor tried to link her arm through yours, and you couldn't help but flinch as the movement caused the pain in your shoulder to worsen. Mor noticed and stopped abruptly, turning you towards her, "He did hurt you, didn't he? Tell me so I can go and deal with him".

"No! Please, Mor, can we just go? You know I hate violence".

"Do you want me to go and find Nyx?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"No!" you say urgently, looking up at her with wide eyes, "Please don't, you know how he'd react. I just want to go to Rhys' mother's home and forget about the day. I'll speak to Nyx another time".

With great reluctance, Mor nods, and the two of you continue the walk back to the home. Once inside and next to the fire, you could finally stop and relax, especially as Mor offered you a hefty glass of wine to help your nerves.

After half an hour of sipping away at the absurdly expensive win, shoes off and feet tucked beneath you, Mor suddenly sat up further in her seat with a smile, informing you, "You're about to be a very happy female".

You're confused by her statement, but then you feel it: the connection in your heart is strengthening, like the missing piece to you was suddenly warming and filling in. The front door opened, and Feyre and Rhys walked in first, followed by Cassian and Nyx.

You're half aware of Cassian's joyful greeting: "Ah, Little star! You've finally come to join the camps. We'll have you trained in no time".

You stand quickly, eyes only on Nyx as he stands in the doorway, not breathing as he stares only at you. One second, you're near the table, and the next, you're running full speed towards him, sliding across the wooden floor with your socks, not that you care as you're suddenly in his arms.

The pain had diminished the second you were reunited with him. All you cared about was breathing him in, the relaxing scents of spice and lavender, the strength of his arms as they wrapped around your waist, keeping you up off of your feet that had tucked around his hips. Your fingers clenched into curling hair at the nape of his neck, not caring that it was sweaty from where he'd been training. He could be covered in mud, and you would have jumped into his arms with as much enthusiasm.

The others in the room pretended to look busy as he continued to hold you, his face moving into the nape of his neck, and he took a deep breath, breathing in your scents. Nyx's voice was like dark silk, wrapping around you entirely as he said, "I knew you were here. I mean, I thought I was losing my mind; an hour ago, the tightness in my chest eased".

You couldn't help but giggle, kissing his cheek, "That was me; I arrived about an hour ago". Pulling back in his arms, the back of your fingers caressed against his cheek, admiring the light stubble that had grown since you'd last seen him. "I like this", you admire.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his thumbs stroking circles from where he still held up your body.

"I came to see my best friend, of course", you claimed, watching his handsome features as his smile grew to a grin, the dimple in his cheek deepening beneath your thumb. "Yes, I came to see my best friend Emerie", you joked as Nyx rolled his crystal blue eyes before moving his face back to nuzzle against your jaw.

"I've missed you", he mumbles, not caring that you both had an audience and your heart clenched tighter at the need in his voice.

"I've missed you too, more than you could ever know".

"If you two aren't mates, I'll eat my trousers", Cassian quips sarcastically over the rim of his glass of wine. Mor slaps his arm for interrupting as you're lowered back to the floor by Nyx, but you still lean on the tip of your toes, pushing your chest against his to remain close.

Admiring the passionate way Nyx is searching your face, you turn to grin as Cass is over your shoulder when the sudden deathly shift in the air has you freezing. The faelights casting a golden glow across the house dimmed as the room became cold, the fire extinguishing in a single breath.

Your head spins as you turn back to Nyx, who is staring at the opening of your shirt beneath your neck.

"What's that mark?" Nyx asked, his voice a terrifying tone you'd only heard on a handful of occasions. Instinctively, you were stepping back, but his gentle hand grabbed yours, keeping you close. You can sense his family moving closer, and Nyx doesn't wait for you to answer his question. He carefully releases your hand and pushes aside the material of your blouse until your shoulder is exposed.

Glancing down, you could see now that where Prumlos had shoved the letter into your shoulder earlier had now formed a deep purple bruise. Nyx leans forward, sniffs your skin, and his spine instantly stiffens.

"Who did that to you?" he asks, voice thick with venom and anger.

You're unable to give him an answer as Mor is suddenly by your side, holding open your shirt to stare at the injury as she gasps, "I asked if he hurt you!"

"He?!" Nyx growls, looking between Mor and you.

Attempting to take a step away from both of them, you try and calm the energy, sensing it is escalating to a level that could not be returned from. It wasn't that Nyx was scaring you; it was quite the opposite, as his protection made you feel safe; you were just frightened that he would do something he couldn't undo and start a war within the camps.

"I'm fine; it doesn't even hurt anymore" you tried to reason, but that only made Nyx breathe heavily out of his nose as he turned to Mor.

"Who did this? Give me his name. Tell me right now, Morrigan!"

Thankfully, Mor didn't answer immediately and glanced at you from the corner of your eye, knowing that you didn't want to cause a fuss, so she didn't respond immediately, which only frustrated Nyx more in his crusade for revenge. "This is why you shouldn't have bought her here! I told you on multiple occasions that it wasn't safe!"

"Nyx, you need to take a breath; maybe you and your father should go outside and release some of that energy" Feyre tried to reason with him, stepping closer, but it was useless; Nyx was like a boiling pot of deathly anger. Shadows pulsed and darkened around him, travelling up the length of his muscular arms and around his neck. Rhys and Cassian finally began to step forward, moving into a warrior stance between Mor, Feyre and Nyx, even attempting to urge you behind them, but there was no way you were being forced away from Nyx.

Stepping toe to toe with him, your fingers moved back to cradling his face, forcing his now icey eyes onto you, and for a fraction of a second, he seemed calmer. "Nyx, please listen to me, I'm fine. Everything is ok, it was just-"

You were unable to finish your sentence because his knees buckled, and he audibly gulped down air as all signs of anger and pain disappeared from his eyes and tears lined the edges. "Nyx?"

"Mate", he whispers in awe, leaning his forehead against yours as his arms come around your waist, holding you delicately.

You could feel it, too, like an elastic band was tied around your heart, strengthening with each passing second. "I can feel it too"," you confirmed with glee, tears beginning to fill your eyes with the sudden realisation of what was happening. You and Nyx were mates. The Cauldron had blessed you both; even after waiting what felt like a lifeline for the bond to confirm itself, you both knew it had only been a matter of time. The relief was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before.

"Finally!" Cassian cheered, loosening his warrior stance to return to his glass of wine, raising it towards where you and Nyx stood in the entryway. "Welcome to the family, Little Star!"

You grin up tearfully towards Nyx, who in turn returns the joy, but that all disappears as the anger and rage return full force as he growls, "Someone hurt my mate". Moving away from you, he faces Mor and demands, "Tell me his name, Mor, I know you know it. Don't make me find it out".

Morrigan shifts, rolling her shoulders back as she looks down at Nyx, which is an incredible feat considering the fact that he is considerably taller than her. "Are you threatening me, Nyx??

"He hurt my mate!" he bellows at her, but she doesn't so much as flinch as she shifts her gaze to you, looking like she's contemplating a hundred thoughts at once. Then, without looking away, she confirms the man's name.

"Prumlos".

Nyx vanishes before you have time to stop him, and seconds pass before the ground trembles and shakes the home's foundation. 

"No! I didn't want violence! Why did you tell him, Mor?!" you gawped at the blond, who didn't look remotely sorry.

As Rhysand grabs Cassian and winnows away, Mor steps closer with Feyre at her side. "I told him because we protect our own. Not only has he hurt you, but he's also threatening Emerie; he deserves what's coming to him. In fact, I shouldn't have faltered with telling Nyx, that is my only regret".

You feel defeated and stare at your feet with a thousand thoughts dizzying your mind. Was Nyx ok? Was he hurt? When would he come back? He was your mate. Nyx was YOUR mate.

A pair of brown leather boots entered your vision as Feyre stepped close, wrapping an arm carefully over your not-injured shoulder as she directed you towards the table, kissing your cheek as she moved, "Welcome to the family, properly that is. You've always been one of us, Little Star. Now, why don't you take a seat and I'll see if we have any healing ointments remaining in the cupboards".

Thankfully, Feyre had found a purple ointment that had already worked enough that the pain in your shoulder was considerably less, and the colour of the bruising was now a subtle yellow. Nibbling nervously on the corner of your thumb as you awaited your mate's return, it finally dawned on you. "Wait, how am I supposed to do this? Aren't mates supposed to have a ceremony or something?"

"There can be a ceremony where you offer Nyx some food; we can organise it once we return to Velaris if you'd like? Or if you'd rather not wait, you could offer him food whenever you'd like", Feyre explained warmly with a gentle smile that matched Nyx's.

"I don't think I want to wait. We've all known we would be mates, and waiting for this bond has been slow, so I don't want to wait to accept his bond.

"Why don't you go and have a look in the kitchen? There might be something here", Mor encouraged with a nod towards the back of the house.

You scoured the kitchen cupboards for any sort of food, but with the house having not been in proper use for years, there was nothing except some stale bread on the kitchen table with suspicious-looking green mould on the edges. Even after ripping away the discoloured sections of the bread, you still eyed it with uncertainty.

Stepping out of the kitchen and returning to the dining area, you were surprised to find that Mor and Feyre had gone, and Nyx now stood calmly in the centre of the room, his eyes watching your every breath.

"Where did everyone go?" you ask, trying to fill the thick tension with some noise.

Nyx smiled, not enough to show his dimple but enough to have your shoulders dropping with ease as he stated, "I don't care where they've gone, as long as you remain". Those blazing eyes lowered to your hands as he sucked in a powerful breath as he looked at the stale bread that you were still holding.

As he took several steps forward, you couldn't help but ask, "What did you do to him?"

"What he deserved". There wasn't a speck of blood on his leathery uniform. "What are you doing with that bread?" he asked in a low voice.

You're unsure why you're so nervous when you answer, "Oh, um. It was meant to be for you. I can't find anything else for the mating bond, but it's stale and has mould over it. Maybe I can find a little shop here to find some proper food and serve that to you- NYX!"

Closing the gap between you, he takes the bread out of your hands and, without taking his eyes off of yours, begins to chew the bread that was so clearly dry and stale as he chewed for considerably longer than he should have.

As he finally swallows, you're reaching up for him, resting your hands on his chest and feeling the racing of his heart beneath your palms. "You're my mate", you breathe in awe, forgetting everything that had happened that day and only focusing on the man before you.

"I am. I'm yours, and you're mine", he states with as much wonderment as you felt in your soul.

Grinning up at him, you remind him, "Forever. You're mine forever". The tension beneath your fingers eases as he takes a steadying breath, and then his eyes lower to the edges of your blouse.

You watch with bated breath as he checks the mostly healed bruise. "I'm sorry if I frightened you earlier".

"Nyx, you could never frighten me, " you reassure and tip a finger beneath his chin so that he has to look at your face, not the injury.

"I've always wanted to keep you safe. Seeing that bruise on you today, I was ready to destroy the world to find out who harmed you".

"I know". You watch as he nuzzles into your palm, kissing the centre as you try to lighten the mood, "You're very intense, you know that, right" you say with a light laugh.

Nyx grins, that precious dimple capturing your attention. "I'm more than intense; I'm obsessed. I've been obsessed for years, and now, there's no escaping me" he chuckles as his hand cups around the backs of your thighs and lifts you up, your arms and legs wrapping around his firm body.

"I thought it was just me with the obsession", you retort whilst curling your fingers into his hair once more. Leaning your forehead against him, you both just breathe the other in, eyes closed and hearing the hearts beating as one.

"There hasn't been a second since you entered my life where I haven't wanted you to be by my side. I think I always knew, even when we were children. And now, you're mine".

"Officially", you joke with a giggle, squeezing your arms and legs more firmly around him.

"Officially, my mate", he agrees and then sighs, balancing your weight on one arm so that he could move aside your blouse and kiss the lightening bruise. "I don't want you to come back here again if you can help it. I don't trust these males".

"That's fine with me. I don't particularly want to return, no matter how lovely Emerie's shop is. I don't know how you can stand to be here, let alone train with them", you agreed wholeheartedly.

"You deserve to be in nice and happy places like Velaris, and I can deal with dreadful places like this. It's in my blood, after all". Nyx took a moment to admire your beauty before he stepped forward and winnowed the two of you into his bedroom in the River House in Velaris. "Finally back where we both belong. Now, you're wearing too many clothing articles".

"Wait, don't you have training?" you ask in confusion.

"Not anymore. They'll have to come here and fight me to drag me back to that shit hole tonight. I have other plans now anyway". As he finished talking, he gently eased you onto the navy silk sheets of his bed, resting his arm next to your head as he looked down at you.

You giggle as his hair falls into his face. Reaching up, you pushed the dark curls back to see him grinning at you with just as much glee. "Mmm, I love that sound", he admires before lowering his face to the junction of your neck, his lips pressing against the sensitive area, causing a shiver to burst over your skin.

"What sound?" you ask in a daze.

"You laughing. Your happiness. It's the best sound in the world", he groans as his lips travel up the slope of your neck before teasing your earlobe.

"You're being extra soppy today, Nyx", you say halfheartedly, secretly loving how open he was with his emotions.

However, the man above you freezes, his mouth next to your ear as he asks, "Say that again".

You know exactly which word he wanted you to repeat as you sigh happily, close your eyes and say, "Nyx".

He moans deeply, his hips rutting into the bed with a thrust as a shiver shakes his large frame. "Again," he asks as he lowers his hands to palm your breasts through your blouse.

It was your turn to sigh before whispering, "Nyx".

He lowers his body, kissing down your sternum as he unbuttons the material, exposing your bra and soft skin to him. Your fingers continue to weave through his hair, subtly scratching against his scalp as he doesn't stop on his journey lower. Next, he removes your jeans and socks until all that remains is your underwear.

He appeared to be a man possessed as he stared at you beneath him, biting your lip in need. With an easy snap of his fingers, he tore through the centre of your bra and pushed the useless straps off of your shoulders and down your arms and then repeated the tearing with your underwear.

Nyx utterly admired every inch of your body, his eyes full of emotions and desires. He seemed conflicted, though, unsure whether to spend his sweet time kissing and tasting every inch of your body. Still, as you spread your legs and directed him where you truly wanted him, he growled lowly, lowering his body until he kneeled next to the bed, arms wrapped around your thighs and feasted between your legs.

"Nyx!" you cried out, eyes closing and back arching from the stimulation.

The two of you had been intimate for years, both losing your virginities together and exploring each other's bodies; you knew one another better than yourselves. Nyx liked to show this off as he perfectly flicked his tongue and held you firmly with his hands; you were begging in a matter of seconds. The man bringing you closer and closer to the edge chuckled as he felt you tremble with restraint, knowing he was only doing enough to keep you on the very brink, loving the desperate little cries you released until it was all too much, and you cried out, "Please! Nyx!"

Sucking on your clit was all that he needed to do to have you spiralling into euphoric bliss. Your thighs trembled as they squeezed around his head, but he would happily be suffocated between your legs, so let the warmth of the press into his cheeks until you'd calmed down enough to relax the muscles.

Breathlessly, you looked down your body to where he was grinning, kissing the top of your pubis before licking his shiny lips.

"You're wearing too many clothes". The armour he was wearing vanished in a flicker of magic. Sitting up on the bed, your hands wound around his toned shoulders,  feeling the muscle ripple and move beneath as you tugged him closer and kissed him with all the desperation you could muster.

Both of you were moving with such urgency that your emotions were overwhelmed, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cried out the words, "Mine!" repeatedly. You'd heard of the frenzy after a mating bond is accepted, but you never anticipated it to feel this chaotic. You needed every single inch of him, wanted to taste his body, feel the warmth of his skin, and hear the moans from between his lips. There was too much to do, and your brain was engulfed with the need to do everything simultaneously.

Gripping onto his arms, you pulled Nyx so that he was now the one lying in the centre of the bed as you moved to straddle over his waist. With your lips still desperately moving together, tongue caressing and deepening into each other's mouths, your hands finally grasped around the thick, veiny length of your mate.

During any other intimate moment, you would have admired the sheer size of him or the beautiful sensation of him throbbing between your fingers, but right now, all you were desperate to do was give him pleasure.

Squeezing your fingers more firmly around the shaft, you moved up and down, using your thumb to smear the precum over the head. He shivered at the touch, his abs tightening and flexing as he groaned in pleasure.

"Need to be inside of you", he pleaded against your lips. You didn't need to tell twice as you roused high on your knees and direct the tip of his cock towards your drenched hole. You only gave yourself a second to adjust to the sheer size of him before you were rotating your hips and beginning to rock back and forth with increasing speed.

Nyx's arms wrapped around your spine, reaching to grasp onto the back of your shoulder so he had a good foundation to hold and fuck his hips up in time to meet yours. The firmness of his strokes had you seeing stars with how deep he felt. You were utterly consumed by Nyx.

The two of you were fucking each other with such a bruising pace that all you could do was dig your nails into his chest and ride him like your life depended on it. It was only a matter of minutes until you were coming, squeezing your walls tightly around his cock until he, too, was tipping his head back and grunting your name with his own pleasure.

You all but collapsed on top of his chest, greedily sucking in air that smelled entirely of him, and you couldn't get enough. It seemed he couldn't for you either as you continued to feel his hardness within you, not softening even after his orgasm.

Before long, with your face still plastered to his sweaty chest, your hips began to roll, his cock nudging deep inside of you.

"I can't fucking get enough of you", you gasp as he throbbed within you.

Nyx rolled the two of you over, so now he was on top, your legs repositioned so that they were against his shoulders, and you were all but bent in half, the angle meaning he could fuck even deeper.

"Yes! Nyx, please don't stop!" you scream, reaching over his shoulders and stroking the sensitive membrane of his wings, watching them flare behind his back.

"Say it", he begs, his eyes glazed whilst looking down at you.

"Nyx!"

"Yes! Say you're mine!"

"I'm yours!" Nyx moves harder, his hand slipping down your legs until his thumb could circle your clit.

"That's right", he grunts between thrusts, "And I'm yours. Forever".

You orgasm so hard you're sure you black out for a couple of seconds because, in the next breath, Nyx is beside you, spooning himself around you, kissing along your collarbones and stroking his palm down your stomach.

"I didn't go too hard on you, did I?" he asks with a rough voice.

You smile softly whilst reaching up to scratch your nails behind his ear, tucking the curls behind his pointed ears, careful not to snag the strands on the multiple silver hoops in his ear. "Not at all, I loved every second".

Nyx grinned, and the starlight that usually glowed in his eyes returned for the first time that day, and he was finally at ease.

"I can't believe you ate that stale bread", you say, laughing at the memory.

"I would have eaten the mould too if you'd given it to me. Whatever food you gave me, I would have accepted it with need in my heart". Those perfect lips of his began to kiss across your cheek and down your throat; however, now that the madness of needing to have sex with him had calmed for a moment, you could actually look him over properly, and that's when you noticed the doting of bruises over his arms and chest, all in different stages of healing.

You tense and ask urgently, "Were these from him? Earlier in the day, I mean?"

Nyx moves away from kissing your throat to look at what you're referring to, shaking his head and casually explaining, "No, they're from training. That asshole didn't have time to make a move against me before I-". You'd lost the ability to hear anything further as a fire burned so thoroughly throughout your soul that it momentarily stole your breath. Red burning anger pulsed in your soul, unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

Before a coherent thought could drift through your mind, you're pushing away from Nyx and climbing out of bed on unsteady legs. Needing to half crawl on the floor before righting your posture, you marched towards his bedroom door.

"Woah, Little Star", Nyx is suddenly in front of you, blocking your exit as he holds his hands up.

You try and push past him, but he just carefully eases you away from the door, "Let me past!" you shout in frustration, trying to wiggle past him.

"I don't think so", he responds gently and calmly.

"Nyx, let me out of this house!" You don't get far through as he moves to press your body against the wooden door.

"And what exactly do you think you're going to do?"

Baring your teeth at him over your shoulder, you continued trying to get out of his hold. "I'll kill everyone who harmed you!"

"Oh really?" Nnyx says lightheartedly and with a slight chortle. "You'll kill them? Miss' I despise violence'?"

You turn around so that you're chest to chest with Nyx, looking up at his with eyes so full of fury he actually bulked and softened his laughter. "Whoever hurt you doesn't deserve to live! They hurt you. My mate. MY MATE. They won't live to see the night!"

Nyx wasn't sure how to calm you down, having never seen you with such anger pulsing through your veins before, but he did what he thought was best: distract you. His fingers clutched desperately into your hair as his mouth pressed against yours firmly enough to cause bruises.

You fight and push against him at first, but then thoughts of anger and pain dissolve into lust and need as you're once more desperately grabbing him. Tearing your mouth away, you kiss down his throat, tasting the salty spice of his natural scent.

"These feelings, they will pass", Nyx reassures as he closes his eyes, thoughts entirely on your mouth as you close your lips around his nipple, biting the sensitive bud.

"So you get to have revenge on someone that wrong me, but I don't get to do the same for you?" you ask whilst looking up at him through your lashes, your nails scratching down his abs before grabbing his once more hardening cock.

He releases another long breath, trying to keep his composure as he thrusts into your palm. "I'm saying that I've had a lifetime of training, and taking care of one pathetic asshole was light work. The mating bond is the intense anger you're feeling, protecting my pride. Everything is so new and fresh, but it will pass Little Star. You'll understand that these bruises were all part of my training in a couple of hours. Everyone has similar marks, making the training brutal and volatile. So this feeling, it will pass. Anyway, you are not leaving this room naked with my cum still dripping down my thighs".

You're finally beginning to relax as your harsh touches soften until you're gently cupping his shaft and looking up at him sheepishly, "I thought you would have liked it if everyone got to see who I belonged to?"

Turning on the spot, you rested your hot cheek against the cool wood of the door and began to grind your arse against his cock, "Mmm, don't tempt me", he growls against the side of your face as he moves closer, bending his knees so he could position his cock into your cunt.

Nyx proceeds to fuck you so hard against the door that it begins to crack down the centre. But neither of you stopped for hours. Not until you were both thoroughly exhausted that neither could stand.

"I love you," he whispers against your lips as you teeter on unconsciousness's edge.

"I love you too", you tiredly say back, eyes drooping, and the darkness of sleep welcomed you into its abyss.

[sluttyquarantinetheory]

If Dragon Age was brave they would bring back your warden from Origins 20 years in the future and watch you navigate having to save the world in your 40s. Like goddamn bitch of a fuck what do you mean I have to stop the fucking megablight now?

And every option is hilarious. You're working with friends of friends. You haven't seen Morrigan in 20 years. You're possibly the Queen of Fereldan. You're possibly banging the pope. You're possibly banging the guy who harrassed the entire Antivan Crows into being marginally better. You had a threesome once with the leader of the Lords of Fortune.

I guess we just live in the fucking fade now??? Some of us didn't even believe the Dalish were real back in my day. What do you mean we can't just kill it with a ballista?

[really-fanny-longbottom]

a innocent kiss

summary: reader has her first kiss, or does she? | words: 3.6k

through our eyes masterlist | series masterlist | general masterlist

a calm evening was taking its place at the house of wind.

rhysand, cassian and azriel found themselves lingering in the living, with small conversation and glasses of whiskey as their chosen way to end one more day. 

the house was quiet — too quiet.

as the clock on the wall marked every minute that passed, rhysand couldn't stop directing his gaze at it every few moments. 

"ugh, when is the child coming back?" amren called out from her spot at the table, "this place it's too quiet. it's starting to feel wrong."

she had her nose stuck on another puzzle. amren had taken a special liking to them since you had offered one to her as a gift for last winter's solstice.

the brothers chuckled at her comment, but it was true — completely true.

the house felt strange without you. since you had come, the house was always filled with noise and chaos. 

there was not a day that passed by that the members of the inner circle had a calm day — and that's exactly how they liked it.

"i told her to come before dinner. she still has one hour left" rhysand told her.

their conversation, however, was put on hold when morrigan entered the living room with a feline smirk decorating her lips.

upon seeing his cousin smirk, rhysand gave an amused smile as he watched her with a raised eyebrow "and what are you smiling at, mor?"

the female's smirk grew, amusement all over her features "oh, dear cousin. you have no idea what's about to hit you."

rhysand eyebrows raised even more and turned fully to face her, curiosity getting the better of him.

"is that so?" he chuckled, his arms resting on the arms of the chair "please, enlighten me."

morrigan laughed as she leaned against one of the sofas, resting her hip on it "well, it's not just you, actually. it's you and cassian."

at the mention of his brother's name, rhysand's brows arched even more and looked at the male only to find him already looking at mor with a frown.

the males exchanged gazes before cassian directed his eyes to mor and asked "and why, pray tell, is this exactly going to affect us?"

morrigan moved to fill a glass of wine, a smile never leaving her lips. "oh, i just thought you would like to know that maybe the time for 'the talk' with our little star has finally arrived."

rhys face shifted, turning from a curious look into an alert one. cassian groaned, not liking where this was going.

"the talk?" cassian asked reluctantly.

morrigan laughed, clearly loving every second of their reactions "yes, 'the talk'. you know, the one with the birds and the bees. . .and the babies."

cassian groaned and let his head fall backward against the sofa, he cursed silently at the words morrigan had just let out.

rhysand passed a hand through his face. even though he was annoyed, he maintained his composure, not wanting to give his cousin that satisfaction "and why would you think that, dear cousin?"

mor tried to suppress a smile but failed, amusement invaded her eyes "well, maybe because i just saw our precious y/n kissing a boy. . ."

and there it was — rhysand and cassian's biggest nightmare.

cassian's head snapped up and he widened his eyes, still trying to process the words his friend had just said. 

rhys squeezed the arms of the chair too tightly,  "she was what?!”

azriel, who remained quiet, had a smug smile forming on his lips. the male moved on the couch, adjusting his position, clearly entertained and interested about how this situation was about to play out.

amren remained focused on her puzzle.

rhysand stood up from his seat "when and who?" he growled.

the sight of rhys riled up only increased the amusement that morrigan already felt, "oh, don't be like that, rhys. she's fourteen, we were all fourteen once. . .over four hundred years ago, sure, but we were."

rhys was fuming but knew his cousin was right. they were all fourteen years old once, when all they could think about was dating and females. rhys himself had lost his virginity at the age of sixteen but this was different.

because this was you.

not him, not cassian, not azriel, not morrigan. 

but you.

and he hated that thought. he was not ready to put your name and the word 'boys' in the same sentence.

"that's not the point, mor" he said through gritted teeth and started pacing across the room, "the point is that she doesn't need to be kissing boys now, she has plenty of time to do that when she's older!"

"yeah," cassian chimed in, also annoyed, "i'm pretty sure we had agreed that she could start dating when she's twenty. correct me if i'm wrong, but we still have six more years until she reaches that age!"

azriel and amren were both silently watching the situation with amused smiles. azriel was trying to hide a smirk but completely failing while amren didn't even try to hide it.

they were enjoying this maybe a little too much.

cassian's own protectiveness over you was starting to come out. the general stood up from his seat and joined his brother's side.

"who's this boy? i want to know who this idiot is."

"can't help you there guys" mor said while taking a sip of her wine.

both brothers let out frustrated sighs but before any of them could speak again, you walked in the living room.

"good evening, everyone" you greeted with the sweetest smile.

as soon you walked in, the entire room went silent, mor's words weighing in the air.

your brothers froze instantly, not knowing how to behave, while, azriel, morrigan and amren tried to hold back grins.

"hey, little star" cassian said at last, his shoulders tense.

"brother," you nodded your head at him and then at rhys, who gave you a strained smile.

you moved to sit on the couch next to azriel where you laid your head on the male's shoulder.

a big smile was on your face — one that your brothers didn't quite like, considering what it could come from.

azriel patted your head gently, reciprocating your smile, and so entertained by the looks on rhysand and cassian's face.

the males didn't look so happy about this situation as everyone else did.

cassian looked at rhysand who was already glaring at you.

"y/n, do you have something you want to tell us?" rhys asked.

"me?" you asked him a little confused.

your brother said, trying to keep his voice casual even with his nerves on edge "yes, you. there's something you're not telling us."

at those words, you lifted your head from azriel's shoulder and sat a little straighter, starting to get nervous.

"oh, is this. . ." you started, "is this about the extra two pizza slices i ate last night when no one was looking?"

rhys tried to keep a straight face, but failed. he actually wanted to curse out loud. he was pretty sure the pizza slices weren't what they meant to talk about, but he had to admit that was a very you thing to do. 

cassian had to fight hard to hold back a chuckle, and azriel bit his lip hard in an attempt to not laugh.

and just like that, from one moment to the other, you completely disarmed them.

"i know i shouldn't have because of training, but it was pepperoni and it looked so good!"

rhys couldn't avoid the smirk that invaded his lips at your words. 

you really were adorable sometimes.

cassian shook his head and creaked a smile as he thought about the fact that you were always going back for extra food like a little gremlin.

"oh, good, you're smiling! then i guess you won't be mad about the chocolate chips cookies i had this morning. . ." you finished with an innocent smile and gave them the look of your sweet doe eyes.

that made all of them laugh. how could they be mad at you when you did things like this?

cassian shook his head again, this time in disbelief, "you really are testing your luck, little star."

"what can i say? you know i love food" you told him.

rhysand chuckled as he walked towards you and took a seat at the coffee table so he could be at your level.

he nodded his head in agreement and poked your side "i know you do, darling. still, it's not a very good idea to eat all the cookies" he said, amusement present in his voice.

"hey!" you protested and crossed your arms "i didn't eat all the cookies, okay? it was just two," rhysand arched an eyebrow at you "ugh, fine, it was three!"

rhys rolled his eyes and had to resist the urge to groan out loud.

cassian shook his head again and had to hold back a laugh, "three cookies in one morning is still a lot, y/n."

"i know," you looked guilty but happy at the same time "but it was really good and i had them before practice if that makes it better."

rhys raised an eyebrow at that comment. he didn't want you to get into the habit of eating everything you wanted just because you were going to train, "but why not save them for a late night snack?" he asked, trying to seem like the logical one.

another guilty look invaded your features "because then i wouldn't have space for the rest of the pizza i hid. . ."

rhysand's eyes widened at that and cassian actually laughed out loud. 

again — that was a very you thing to do. 

rhys was starting to lose his composure, after a moment, he finally asked "and where exactly did you hide the pizza?"

you looked away as you answered "in my bedroom. . .on my nightstand."

rhys had to rub his temples at that, he was going to have someone teach you how to actually hide food. 

cassian was still laughing, azriel was enjoying this way too much, and even amren had cracked a smile.

"in your room. on your nightstand. where anyone can find it" he deadpanned to you.

you kept your eyes on rhys as smug smirk started gaining form on your lips "that's why it's such a good place to hide. you would never look there because of how obvious it is."

rhys wanted to pull his hair out, you were definitely making this as difficult as possible on purpose, "i hope you know i'm going to start searching your room from now on."

you leaned forward, "go ahead, brother. i'll just find new places" you showed him your tongue.

there was that cheeky attitude all over again. "you're infuriating, you know that?" he shook his head.

he was definitely going to start to keep an eye on you, especially now, since you had started training and your appetite had just grown.

you giggled at his reaction, you really liked to get on their nerves, especially when it was this funny to watch.

your brother rolled your eyes at your antics. a few minutes later, the room started calming down with the memory of morrigan's earlier words coming back.

rhys looked at cassian and the male gestured for him to take the lead.

he started thinking of a way to bring up the subject and when he came empty, he cursed himself in silence.

finally, he decided to just ask you. there was no easy way to approach this matter and it was probably better just to say it.

"there's something else we would like to talk to you about, darling" rhysand looked to cassian and then to you.

seeing your brothers gaze, you couldn't help but feel a little tense "is everything okay?"

rhys nodded, and tried to smile reassuringly at you before he continued "everything's okay, you're not in trouble or anything."

"oh, okay. what is it then?" you asked, a little relieved.

the male paused, and took a deep breath to prepare himself.

he really didn't know how you would take this question and that made him uneasy "well, mor told us something, and we wanted to know if it was true" he said in a calm voice.

you moved closer to the edge of the sofa and grab one of rhys's hands, trying to reassure him "it's okay, rhys. you can ask me."

rhys's heart softened a little at the gesture, and he squeezed your hand. the look on his face was one of hesitation, but he decided to just ask you 

"mor said she saw you kissing a boy. is that true?"

"oh," you were taken aback, shock on your face. that was not what you were expecting.

you looked at mor before looking back at your brother, "yes, it's true."

rhysand's heart dropped, and the protective instincts he'd been fighting down came to the surface.

cassian was watching intently and clearly not happy about your confession "you've been kissing boys?" he asked, trying to keep his voice as causal as possible.

"no, it's not like that, cass. i promise" you felt your shoulders tensed.

your brothers were having a hard time believing that, but at the same time, they wanted to listen to whatever you had to say. 

rhysand squeezed your hand a little tighter and nodded for you to continue.

"jacks is just a friend, his father it's the owner of that bakery i like so much. you know, the one by the sidra with all my favorite pastries?"

rhys nodded, he remembered that bakery, of course he did.

you would drag him, cassian and sometimes azriel there to get your favorite pastries all the time when you were younger. 

at the mention of the boy's name, both brothers had to remind themselves to hold back all the protective instincts that were demanding they keep you locked up so no other boy would kiss you.

"so, i went there a few months ago to get some pastries for cassian's birthday party and jacks was at the register. we start talking and became friends," you explained, your brothers hearing you attentively "one day, when i was there, i told him i needed to leave earlier because i was going to have a school lesson with you, and he told me how he always wanted to go to school but couldn't because his parents needed his help with the bakery."

rhys felt himself relax a little at your response, and he could see cassian doing the same. 

he had to remind himself that boys and girls could just be friends with each other, that it didn't mean there were any romantic feelings involved, but a part of him couldn't help but worry that maybe that wasn't the case.

they continued to hear you. 

"i felt sorry for him, it reminded me that not every child has the same luck than me. so, i offered jacks to teach him a few things, just like you did for me."

rhys couldn't help but soften a bit at that. you had a good heart, and he was proud of you for wanting to help others. 

he nodded in understanding and squeezed your hand "so you're teaching him?"

"i was, our 'last lesson' was yesterday. that's why he kissed me, it was just his way of saying thank you but i'm not interested in him" you explained.

rhysand sighed in relief, as did cassian. he was definitely not happy about a boy kissing you, even if it was just to say thank you, but at least you weren't interested in him. 

rhys kept holding your hand, trying to keep a firm grip on his protective instincts. 

you giggled at your brother's reaction "it's okay, brother. you can relax now."

rhys smiled at the sound of your laughter and cassian chuckled, both glad that this had just been a misunderstanding. 

damn, you really had them wrapped around your finger, didn't you? 

"i'm not in trouble, am i?" you asked, doubt in your voice.

rhys shook his head, and gave your hand a little squeeze. "no. you're not in trouble, at all" he reassured you.

he and cassian would still have to talk to you about boys and dating at some point, but for now he was just glad to know you were only friends with jacks. 

cassian was also back to smiling, though he still wasn't sure he was ready for you to be around boys romantically and definitely wasn't ready to have 'the talk' with you. 

"if it makes you feel better, brother," you look between rhys and cassian "i promise that the day i get interested in a boy, i will tell you, okay? no secrets" you squeezed rhys hand.

rhys couldn't help but smile more widely at that, it was a small comfort. 

cassian actually looked less stressed at your words, though he still had an air of protectiveness. 

seeing cassian's posture made you laugh. oh, how hard was the life of older brothers with a younger sister?

"it's okay, cass. you can relax too" you giggled.

cassian chuckled, he knew he probably wasn’t being very subtle, but he really couldn't help himself. he was just too protective of you, and he wasn't looking forward to the day when you grew up to actually want to start dating. 

rhys looked at both of you with an affectionate expression, though his eyes quickly went back to your hand still in his. 

he squeezed your hand in his one more time before gently letting it go. he looked over at cassian, and the two of them exchanged a look that clearly said you're way too cute for your own good. 

cassian laughed again, still amused by all this, and said "so no more boys then?"

you giggled "there was never a 'boy' in the first place, just a friend" you reassured them.

that actually made both rhys and cassian smirk. you were such a cheeky little thing. 

"it better stay that way" cassian said in a firm tone, even though he still had a smile on his face.

"it will, even if he wanted something, i never did, so it would never happen."

both your brothers felt pride in his chest at your words. you were so smart and so independent, you knew what you wanted — they must've been doing something right.

rhys still wanted to make sure that he talked to you about all of this eventually, but he figured this conversation had been enough for now.

upon your brother's gaze, you asked one last time "would you like to talk about something else?"

rhys chuckled at your question, it almost sounded like you were the 'parent' and not a fourteen year old girl.

he shrugged a little, and cassian had to hold back a smile of his own.

"no, i think that's all for now unless you have anything you want to talk about" he answered calmly.

you shrugged your shoulders "no, i'm just surprised this was your reaction for a simple kiss on the cheek" you couldn't help but chuckle.

confusion spread on everyone's faces but morrigan who had to hide her smile behind her hand.

"what?" cassian asked.

"jacks kissed you on the cheek?" rhysand added.

now it was your turn to be confused "hum, yes. where did you tho-" you didn't finish your sentence when turning your head, your eyes found mor's.

and then you started to laugh out loud, azriel and amren following you when they too understood what happened. 

cassian and rhysand tried to protest at your laughter, obviously not accompanying your process of realization.

when both males looked at morrigan and the hint of guilt she had in her eyes, they put the pieces together and realized that she had messed with them. 

she knew the kiss had been on the cheek, she just decided to not share that information.

"oh, you got played, brothers" you said between uncontrollable laughter, tears starting to form in your eyes.

azriel joined your laughter, looking directly at cassian and rhys "you should've seen your faces. priceless."

amren returned to her puzzle as she let out a quiet mumble "overprotective fools."

cassian looked at the blonde female, annoyed. annoyed with her little stunt and with himself, he should've seen this coming.

"not funny, mor" cassian told her but she clearly disagreed.

morrigan kept smiling, her glass of wine still in hand "oh, i disagree."

seeing cassian's face of annoyance made mor laugh even more loud causing cassian to let out a sarcastic laugh “ha-ha, you should join a comedian group.”

rhysand shook his head in disbelief, mor really had fooled them.

"so, it was only a kiss on the cheek, huh?"

"yes, it was."

before anyone could talk again, nuala entered the living room, letting you all know that dinner was ready. 

still laughing, you, azriel and amren moved to the dinner room while cassian and rhys stayed behind to give mor a little piece of their mind.

"you are aware," rhys started by saying "that cass and i nearly gave her 'the talk', right?"

mor swatted his chest and laughed "oh, dear cousin. that would've just been the cherry on the top of the cake."

cassian crossed his arms over his chest "and why didn't you tell us that the boy kissed her on the cheek instead of letting us think otherwise?"

"what was the fun in that?" she gave them a feigned innocent smile.

rhysand sighed, "you're terrible, you know that?"

mor shrugged her shoulders and moved to get to the dinner room but before she reached the door, she turned around to face them again.

"oh, and don't be kidding yourself, boys," she gave them a feline smirk before continuing "our little star is already fourteen, sooner or later, you are going to have 'the talk' with her."

rhysand and cassian groaned out loud while morrigan simply laughed and joined you for dinner.

a/n: thank you for reading!

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the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[purrassicjet]

I KNOW Jupiter explicitly says that he and Bertram weren't close but I want so badly for Jupiter, Bertram, and Rosie to have been the Hawthrone, Morrigan, and Cadence of their unit.

Bertram was the "gets us into trouble friend". His inventions always went rogue in unforseen ways that the trio need to sort out.

Rosie was the "gets us out of trouble" friend. I don't think we learn what her actual knack is, but I like to think she's some sort of navigator, so she was really good at finding hiding places within wunsoc so they could escape punishment.

Jupiter was somehow both at once. He loved getting into mischief and causing problems, but he had absolutely no moral objection to lying as long as it's "for the greater good" (even if it's his own greater good) and was good at it. When Rosie couldn't get them physically away, Jupiter would talk their way out of it.

When Jupiter first purchased the Deucalion (I imagine he was just barely out of school and looking for a new civic duty, but thats a headcanon for another post), Rosie and Bertram were the first people to tell him he was crazy, but they were also his biggest supporters. Bertram helped with a lot of the restoration and Rosie was there for moral support.

I think Jupiter and Bertram's relationship dissolved quickly after Rosie disappeared. Bertram found Jupiter's absolute refusal to admit that Rosie was probably dead annoying and childish, Jupiter was angry that Bertram was giving up on their sister so quickly. Their relationship was never the same after that

[wingedhallows]

women shouldn't curse; sirius black

pairing: marauders (sirius black; platonic - flirty) x reader | 1k words prompt: "women shouldn't curse" "get fucked" authors note: hi, i hope u like this :)

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The smoke filled your lungs, a satisfied sigh sounded from your lips. James extended his hand and demanded the bottle in your hand without a word.

You gave it to him and leant your back on the railing of the balcony. The night air caressed your cheek, a shiver made its way down your spine.

“Who was the red head you buttered up earlier?” James asked, Sirius had to chuckle. It was no secret that the young Gryffindor was adored by many, men or women.

He didn’t take up on many offers though. Sirius blew some smoke from his own cigarette and gave James a smirk. “Morrigan.” He answered. Remus had to roll his eyes, taking another sip from his drink.

“She’s been at it since last year.” Remus added, leaning back against the wall.

Lily made her way to the four of you, Marlene right behind her. You held your pack of cigarettes for the blonde girl, who took one with a small smile on her lips.

“You got another one?” She asked, her hands fumbling with Sirius’ lighter. You hummed, of course she would take notice of your newest tattoo.

“Sirius made it.” You answered. “I tatted him as well.” Marlene chuckled and took a closer look.

“God, if I had the guts to be like you.” She spoke with a smirk on her lips.

Sirius and you were very much alike, long hair, piercings, tattoos and the nonchalant demeanor. James liked to label the two of you as long lost twins. 

James, Remus and Sirius were immersed in a conversation about their next big prank, Lily and Marlene had a lot to say about their plans for the summer break, occasionally asking you questions about potential places you could visit, places to check out and what else you should be doing while you all were still so young.

You didn’t pay much attention, the day was long and your social battery was slowly but surely running out. 

“Hi there.” A boy who had placed himself next to you with a beer in hand caught your attention.

He was short, about the same height as Peter. His red hair covered his eyebrows and slightly brushed over his eyes, his teeth sat crooked in his mouth and his stained Beatles shirt didn’t do him much justice either.

“Hello.” You answered, desperate to have this conversation end right now. He didn’t think the same apparently, because he kept talking.

“It’s rare to see Slytherins attend Gryffindor parties, let alone a dashing one as you.” The compliment was fine, it wasn’t something to sweep you off your feet but it was okay. You weren’t smitten though, not even in the slightest.

“I’ve seen you around the common room the past few years and thought to myself that I’d like to take my chance with you.” Your eyebrows lifted the tiniest bit as you registered another failed attempt of flirting.

You didn’t look at him, you were turned to your friends, a clear sign for a normal person but apparently not for this guy.

“My name is Barnaby, I’m a year under you.” He said, his hand suddenly on your elbow. You let your arm fall and decided to end this as fast as possible. This was getting ridiculous.

“Listen Barnaby, I’m not really-”Hello there, who’s that?” Sirius was by your side, his hand swiftly taking his lighter out of your hand to light his next cigarette.

“Hi, my name’s Barnaby.” He tried, his eyes glowing with hatred. He didn’t like Sirius butting in on his god awful attempt of flirting with you, you thanked Sirius internally.

“We were actually talking-”Remus wants to know when the deadline for herbology is.” Sirius interrupted the tosspot. You smirked at Sirius who brushed his hand through his dark locks, his piercings glistening in the dim light.

“The fucking project’s not due till friday.” You answered, blowing some smoke for good measure. Barnaby decided to butt in again.

“Women shouldn’t curse.”

He said, loud and clear. You blinked once, twice. Sirius eyebrows raised as he looked the slime ball up and down.

“What?” Sirius asked, as his eyes narrowed and he took another drag from his cigarette.

“Women shouldn’t use such crass language, it’s unbecoming.” He tried with a shrug of his shoulders.

Sirius took a step forward, to which Barnaby took a step back, immediately intimidated.

“What a bullshit statement is that?” The tosspot took a swig from his beer and looked at you once more before he spoke.

“It’s unbecoming, it’s a shame to hear such language from a woman this pretty.” Sirius was furious by now, his jaw tightened and eyebrows raised in a daring manner.

“You know what’s unbecoming? A bloody idiot like you, looking like this, thinking you could even have a chance with a woman like Y/N. Wake up dude, not a single woman on this planet would dare lay a finger on a cunt like you.”

Barnaby was baffled, his mouth slightly open. You sprung into action and put your hand on Sirius’ shoulder. He took a step back and gave you a curt nod.

“Barnaby, dearest, I don’t think that you should ever speak your opinions on what women should or shouldn’t say. It’s unbecoming to be hit on by a boy who looks like he hasn’t showered once in his lifetime. I’m honestly insulted that you think this could’ve worked, like please get out of my face.”

You turned around, ready to leave this idiot behind with Sirius in hand.Before he walked away, you turned around again. Sirius' hand was warm in yours as you once again faced the bloody git.

“Ah, one more thing. Get fucked.”

Barnaby turned around and left you both behind with fast steps. Sirius squeezed your hand with a chuckle.

“Well done, dove. I’m proud.”

You had to chuckle as you threw your long done cigarette off the balcony.

[feyreswaterybowels]

Shadows Dance🐦‍⬛

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You are Azriel’s mate of 150 years. Your home used to be Velaris until your sister mysteriously disappeared 60 years ago without a trace and it’s been your life’s mission to find her. That is until one day you’re back in Velaris for the first time in years to meet the new high lady and you get your first clue as to where your sister may be after all these years.

Warnings: mentions of missing child, mentions of death in child birth, implied sexual content.

Part 1 ↓

“Wait, Azriel has a mate?” Feyre gawked at her mate, eyes wide and mouth ajar.

“How did I not know this? I thought he was interested in Mor?”

“Azriel and Morrigan do have a strong love for one another. But not in a romantic sense. Azriel as been mated to (Y/N) for little over 150 years.” Rhys confirms, with a grin

“How come I haven’t met her yet?” Feyre asks, her interest peaked at this mysterious woman that’s never been mentioned to her—confused when her mate's grin falters.

“(Y/N) comes and goes. It’s hard for her to stay in one place for to long. When her and Azriel first mated he was around for a long time, a valuable member of the inner circle. About 60 years ago her younger sister went missing, she just disappeared one day. Little Sarah, was just a mere 16 years old—much younger than all of us. We never found her,” Rhys pauses, taking a deep breath. “(Y/N) can’t let it go. She won’t stay here long before she has to go back out and we let her go and just hope she’ll return home with her sister one day.”

“Oh, gods,” Feyre gasps, knowing if it were her sisters she would never stop looking either. “I can’t say I blame her. But 60 years? (Y/N) still has hope her sister is out there?”

That is silent, his eyes flicking down to the floor and Feyre feel a tug on their bond. A sad thing and she frowns.

“You all think she is?” She asks and Rhy sighs

“Honestly? I don’t know. I feel like anything is possibly until we know otherwise. Best case scenario she’s found and returned home. Worst case scenario we find out she’s…gone and we avenge her death in any way we can.”

“You all must have really loved her?” Feyre breaths, grasping her mate's hand.

“(Y/N)’s mother died giving birth to little Sarah. (Y/N) and Azriel raised her here in the House of Wind—we all did. When she was lost…it was devastating. We searched endlessly for years before we had to make the decision to stop. (Y/N) stopped for 3 years and stayed here with Azriel but she soon became restless. She needed answers about her sister and she couldn’t find them here. It was a hard day when she decided to leave. Azriel almost went with her but she talked him out of it, telling him he needed to stay here. He sees her more than we do of course, he’ll travel to her when he can. She only pops in here once in a blue moon, I think it’s too painful for her to come home to where she raised that child and not have her here.” Rhys explains, emotional and sympathetic. The loss of a friend and a child had to have been hard on them all.

“I hope to meet her one day, she seems lovely,” Feyre offers, and Rhys violet eyes meet hers lovingly.

“You two will be quick friends, just like you and Mor,” Rhys grins, and Feyre makes it a mental point to talk to Azriel—to check in on her friend knowing the situation he’s in is not an easy one to deal with.

——————————

2 Weeks Later

I slid through the shadows of the familiar halls I knew so well. I could hear voices and laughter drifting down the corridors and smirked to myself. Everyone was here, perfect. I looked up winnowing myself into the rafters, tucking my wings tightly and letting my body shift further into the shadows as it moved closer and closer to them.

Five people sitting around a dining table—only one missing. Food and wine scattered about as they talked and laughed. I grinned, lifting my shield just enough to let the shadows and house know someone was here before concealing myself completely again, watching as the three males at the table instantly became alerted to the presence of an unknown guest.

Mutterings of someone being in the house started and I laughed to myself jumping to another rafter. I half lifted my shield again, jumping to another rafter, all heads snapping above. Continuing until I was above one specific Illyrian before dropping down—gasps and shouts echoed around the room as I landed on his shoulders, shadows trying to wiggle past my shield to fight off the threat before I completely lifted it. Grinning down at my mate as I crouched on his shoulders.

“Long time no see,” I told him sweetly, bending down to kiss him.

“(Y/N)!” He exclaimed, reaching around to grab me and pull me into his arms.

Those shouts and exclamations turned into ones of my name and I laughed as my family gathered around prying me away from Azriel so they could get hugs of their own.

“You always did like to make a dramatic entrance,” Rhys grinned and I laughed as I hugged him, the second to last person standing around me.

I turned my attention to the female standing next to him hugging her as well, knowing exactly who she was.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Feyre,” I said, pulling back to look between her and Rhy. “I’ve heard so much about you from Az. I’m honored to finally meet you. I apologize for waiting so long to officially meet you.”

I take a step back, letting my mate envelop me in his arms once again.

“Oh, no apologies necessary, I’m glad you’re here now,” Feyre smiled warmly—her energy warm and inviting. “Will you be joining us?”

“Only for a bit before I drag my mate away,” I grinned up at him, the others around us laughing.

“I might drag you away first,” He growled, shadows tangling around us making me laugh.

The others snickered and made lewd jokes as they dispersed back towards the table.

My chair next to Azriel’s was waiting for me. I sit and his shadows twirl around me lovingly as he fixes a plate for me—a glass of wine appearing in front of me at the snap of Rhy’s fingers. I grin at him happily snatching the glass up and downing half of it in a large sip.

The night is wonderful, I’m seated next to Rhy who’s at the head of the table, Feyre on his other side and directly in front of me. I enjoy getting to know her—Rhy’s mate. They fit together so well. I enjoy catching up with cassian and Mor, oh how I missed her. I was endlessly happy to be back with my family.

———————

The Next Day

I woke up before the sun rose. I didn’t sleep much the night before. After Azriel and I dragged one another out of the dining room and to our shared quarters we made love over and over again to make up for time spent apart.

I had missed him so much. His hands on my body, his lips on my skin, how he would stroke my wings, his scent, the way his shadows would caress my body as he slowly took me apart with his mouth and fingers before filling me up and our silent communication—a bond only mated pairs know. It was always the perfect feeling, being with him after so long.

I couldn’t sleep though, I hadn’t slept well in this house in decades. So, I got up and dressed, kissed Azriel’s forehead and headed out into the dim hallway. I made my way to the training deck, I needed to burn off some of my pent up energy—to my surprise Feyre was standing there, hands wrapped and a few strands of hair stuck to her sweaty forehead.

“High Lady,” I grinned as our eyes met, a pretty smile spreading across her own lips—she really was as beautiful as everyone said.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be awake,” She says, pushing the hair off of her forehead.

“I don’t sleep well here,” I shrug and she nods, a look of understanding in her eyes that lets me know she knows why.

“Would you care for a morning spar?” She asks, gesturing to the opening.

“Oh hell yeah,” I nod excitedly.

We spar for hours. She’s good. I can tell she was trained by the boys—but I was able to teach her a few moves of my own. She caught on quick too—putting me on my ass only after a few tries of each move.

We bantered back and forth, playful jabs of sarcasm. It was nice. I used to love sparring with Mor, too…back when I was around long enough to actually train with her that is.

“Do you yield, high lady?” I sneer mockingly, dagger pressed under her chin as I straddle her chest, knees on her elbows pinning her effectively.

I’m keenly aware when there’s a presence of another but I don’t let it distract me, my attention focused on the woman under me.

“No,” She grunts, bucking hard enough to throw me off, sending the dagger tumbling from my hand. She’s on top of me then, forearm pressed against my throat. “Do you yield, (Y/N)?”

I tap the ground three times watching her grin form before she slides off of me, sitting to my left, both of us breathless. I let my eyes find him then, standing there arms across his chest looking gorgeous in the early morning sun—I can’t help but smile at him.

“I’ll give you two a few minutes,” Feyre says with a knowing smirk, pushing up and heading inside past Azriel with a smirk in his direction, too.

As soon as we’re alone he’s on me. Hands, mouth and shadows on every inch of skin he can get to. It wasn’t the worst way to finish off the morning.

Breaking apart only when Rhys called us inside, an urgency in his voice I hadn’t heard in a very long time.

An urgency that had every instinct in my body on alert.

[thedinanshiral]

On Solas, again.

After The Veilguard i think this post deserves an expansion.

This one will be long and full of spoilers.

Veilguard gave us a more complete version of his tragic backstory, his memories, his regrets, and showed us a different side of his character.

Here's the thing: Solas is not perfect, he never was. He's been broken for a large portion of his exceedingly long life.

He started as a spirit, presumably a spirit of Wisdom, but he was always called Solas which is heavily implying Solas may be the elvhen word for Wisdom we've been lacking all this time. How did it come to mean Pride? Evanuris propaganda, most likely. Would you listen to and follow someone who is wise or someone who's just full of themselves? Would you, as an elf in ancient Elvhenan, follow another elf resisting the oppression, or a lying, manipulating big bad wolf bent on destroying the world you know by opposing your gods? Who would you listen to, really? The Evanuris high on the blight couldn't allow Solas' name to be a positive for him, so they likely resignified his name with a negative connotation, and just as Solas ran with the Fen'Harel/Dread Wolf narrative because it scared his enemies, he probably didn't give much thought about this either. He was Solas, and whatever his name meant to them wasn't important, what mattered was the cause.

He was a calm flying, glowing nervous system with wings going about his existence in the Fade, minding his own business bothering no one until Mythal asked him to join her in the physical world, with a physical body. He was pure, fully a spirit, and a former spirit who was a friend was almost begging for his help, how could he say no? Even when he knew there would be unfortunate consequences, how could he abandon a dear friend? So he accepted, and became a man. We don't know why Mythal would turn to him for help, of all spirits of the Fade, why him? For his wisdom only, his guidance? In elvhen lore first came the sun and the earth, and Elgar'nan was the firstborn, followed by Mythal, the two of them are in their mythology the first beings to exist. Veilguard, however offers a few codices which are as interesting as they're amusing: evanuris correspondence. Letters from Solas addresed to Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain and their replies. In his letter to Elgar'nan Solas addresses him with his titles but also presents himself with his own, including "second to Mythal", and after addressing Elgar'nan as "first among the Evanuris (...) who woke at the dawn of the elves" Solas refers to himself as "who is no younger". He's "no younger" than Elgar'nan who is, as Elgar'nan's Bloodbound Desmal says on the reply, "First of the Firstborn". And he was already a spirit of considerable power if Mythal turned to him for help so Solas is even more ancient than previously thought, and possibly on equal standing with all of them. This would explain why he walked amongst Evanuris and Forgotten ones alike as if he were one of them, as the stories go. His official rank may not have been too high but they all knew who he was and at least initially they respected him.

The Blight is what changed the game, he refused to participate in it like the others, he refused to join them in their systems of oppression, so maybe the difference was never in power but in logistics. Solas' own words explain it, he was a thorn on their side, drove them to take on more of the Blight to get back at him, implying his rebellion was winning. His efforts were succeeding and in their desperation to stop him for good the evanuris relied more and more on the Blight.

When in Trespasser Solas claims he "was Solas first" i'm inclined to take his word literally. If the instance that changed him into Pride as Morrigan implies in Veilguard was when the world didn't match his expectations, that would have been after the Titans were slained, once he decided to burn Mythal's vallaslin off his face, when he decided to rebel against them. But in his memories at the Lighthouse we can see he was called Solas before all that, the name change came after the war, when the Evanuris decided being powerful general mages of the people wasn't enough, that they should be gods; it's then when Elgar'nan refers to him as a lapdog, and i think that's were the "Dread Wolf" name came from, later on. He was a dog when he was begging them to stop, and became a wolf when he actively tried to make them stop, no longer a beggar but a threat.

In his memories in the Crossroads we see a different side of him, we see him leading, plotting, making difficult choices he thought himself obligated to make because of the dire circumstances; we saw him worried, scared, desperate. His rebellion was something he did out of a necessity, not senseless pride, he had nothing to prove of himself to the Evanuris, but the people deserved better and their "gods" were not going to give them anything but pain. Solas has always made unfortunate decisions guided by his own guilt. He joined Mythal so as to not abandon a dear friend in need, he rebelled out of guilt because it was his contibution to ending the war with the titans what generated the Blight the evanuris became addicted to and took it out on the people. He's been desperately trying to fix his mistakes since he first had a foot to set on the earth. The war with the titans had already started, that's why Mythal called on him, and his first mistake was accepting her request, knowing what it meant, and he hasn't stopped feeling guilt and shame for his choices ever since.

So during his rebellion we see him gather his forces comprised of other spirits, with Felassan as his second in command. It's interesting how the spirits he relied on for their battles had names that today we would interpret as demons, like Chaos and Disruption. There's a codex in Veilguard that touches on how demons are spirits too, just different, and it's people who collectively decided to clasify and treat spirits of unpleasant feelings and concepts as "demons". This may be why Solas, at the final stretch of Act 3 and if Lucanis is in the party, immediatly recognizes Spite as a spirit of Determination; he's always seen spirits for what they are and not what people make them to be, because he's a spirit himself.

I'm of the idea that Solas doens't mean Pride, that if he was twisted from his purpose then he turned into something else, just as there are many kinds of wisdom there should be many other things Wisdom can be twisted into. Taking into consideration when and what for Mythal called for him, and how he tends to always have a plan for everything, i'd say his brand of wisdom may have been in strategy, analysing and planning ahead. They needed to win the war, makes sense they'd need someone capable of devising a way of achieving that. But strategy is a lot about foresight, measured risk, collateral damage, what is or isn't acceptable to sacrifice considering what is to gain or lose, and it's clear in the war with the titans the end justified the means and we see Solas taking a similar approach in his memories when he sacrifices countless spirits in a move meant simply to distract. I think if he turned into something he wasn't meant to be it was Pragmatism, in the sense that he put his ideals on hold and did what he thought would yield concrete results towards his ultimate goal, even if those actions demanded sacrifices he terribly regreted. In his letter to Ghilan'nain he urges her to change, but understands she's where she's at because of her relationship with Andruil and tells her she wouldn't be the first one to throw away their morals for love. Solas does this thing where he tells on himself without realizing it, he sometimes speaks from personal experience and in that line he was surely thinking of his own choice to support Mythal even when what was required of him went against his very nature and ideals.

After everything was said and done, Solas was mostly full of guilt, regret, shame. He made plans but every plan he made backfired, either he hadn't considered outside factors or miscalculated the severity of the consequences. Even if his plans had contingency plans and even though as an elvhen he perceived time and magic differently i get the impression he improvised on the go, he saw a problem, devised a plan to fix it, but in the urgency to get it in motion he was blind to the ramifications, and even when he considered those he was blind to the ramifications of the ramifications because as powerful as he may have been or is still, he's not an omniscient god. He's just a spirit turned man who did it all to help a friend and it all exploded in everyone's faces.

The thing is, when you screw up so badly by trying to do what you think is right in the way you've convinced yourself is the only or best way available, you enter a vicious cycle that's very difficult to get out of. Again, i don't think Solas was Pride, if anything once he entered this phase in his character development i'd say he was closer to Arrogance. Only he could fix what he broke, so only he could make a plan and only he could execute it and for him to succeed he had to be correct. There was no other way. But ultimately all this was driven by a degree of guilt and regret we can't fully imagine. And that guilt and regret, and the despair that came with it, hit harder than ever when he woke from uthenera to find a world fragmented, the Elvhenan empire destroyed and forgotten, and the elvhen people gone, an imperfect, minuscule version of it in their place, in an insufferable infancy and willfully ignorant of their own history. He had saved the world but the consequence was the destruction of the world he knew, the cost too heavy to process. So he stayed in that vicious cycle, he's the only one who remembers, he's the only one who knows what must be done, he's the only one willing to make the sacrifices needed to see it through. It all falls on him. During his time with the Inquisition he's still plotting, still trying to move the threads around him to get things in motion towards his goal but it was also a time of serious reflection, of revelations coming both from external elements and from within. A befriended Inquisitor, and specially a romanced one, makes him question himself and his plans, and that vicious cycle begins to crack. It's the destruction of his orb what pushes him towards a more drastic plan B, and even before that -if romanced- it's his guilt still dragging him towards his self-imposed dinan'shiral, that guilt that he probably perceives as a final duty to his people. But he had considered stopping and staying with Lavellan, and that's a small yet major crack in that cycle he's trapped himself in. He began to doubt.

Off he went on his own for almost ten years, to set the many phases of his plan in motion, sometimes doing things himself, often times relying on his agents or others unknowingly working for him. Because as a strategist, and a pragmatic one, in order for all this to work he had to detach himself emotionally from everyone involved, he had to see them as pieces on the board for him to move accordingly to what the plan demanded in order to achieve the desired results. So yes, Solas uses people, he's been using people for thousands of years, he used countless spirits during his rebellion, he used Felassan when he couldn't yet wake up, he used Corypheus, he used the Inquisition but got emotionally involved and walked out so he could continue using whatever means necessary to reach what he considered had to be the only acceptable outcome. But he was also willing to sacrifice himself, he was always ready to die if if he had to while at the same time trying to preserve his life at least long enough to do what he must. Solas has always been a creature of contrasts, from that very first moment when he was a spirit, and then he became a man.

He is, as trickster figures often are, a liminal creature. Neither here nor there yet somehow all over the place at the same time. So while he was willing to sacrifice others for his own goal, he was also willing to sacrifice himself to save others. By the end in Veilguard, in a Redeem ending, he makes that sacrifice, not by giving away his life but something he perhaps considers more precious, his freedom.

I'll be writing about his relationship with Mythal, Lavellan and that ending at length in a different post, for now suffice it to say i think it's the best ending in part because it allows a different part of him to come to light and i just love his character dearly, all sides of it.

[lyssasdrafts]

★ 𓈒 ݁ STAR—CROSSED (rhysand x reader) ⊹

chapter eight: (written) ✧

𓈒 ݁ ✫ masterlist previous next

sometimes you really questioned the lengths that you go through in order to maintain your reputation and status as one of your university’s best students. you supposed it could also be due to the amount of fear that your professor bryaxis instilled within you. as if doing the photoshoot with rhysand wasn’t already enough, your professor had soon assigned you to begin tutoring other students within your major. mostly freshmen who needed help, but also the occasional classmate from your lectures who would likely fail if you didn’t offer your assistance.

that’s how you ended up spending your friday afternoon at the library that your friend nesta worked at. while you didn’t mind staying there since fridays were one of the least busy days at the library, it also happened to be the day that your friend took off work. you were patiently seated at one of the desks at the back, tapping your foot as you wait for your “student” to arrive.

needless to say, you’re definitely taken aback when a larger man walks into the library, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder as he wanders the place. he seems like he’s unfamiliar with the place and it clicks in your mind that he’s looking for you. you give him a bit of a stare, blinking at the sight of him before his eye finally catches you too.

“are you my tutor? you’re y/n, right?” cassian gives you a smile. although there’s only a few other people in the library, you suddenly feel them all staring at the man who just sat next to you.

“it’s cassian, right? i’m supposed to tutor you?” you try to hold back the distaste in your tone. if this was rhysand, you would be gloating and smiling to yourself the entire time that he needed your help for once. if this was azriel, their other friend, you would perhaps actually tolerate it. but cassian? there was no doubt he needed the help, but you weren’t hopeful as to whether or not he would actually listen to you.

“professor bryaxis sent me here,” cassian looks down, and for once you see a different side of him. he’s not the cheering, loud, overbearing jock, but instead, he hangs his head in embarrassment. it’s almost as if he’s afraid, like whatever lecture your professor gave him really stuck with him.

“are we even in the same major?” you can’t help but ask, twisting your face at him.

“no, i really only go to prythian university on a sports scholarship… but i needed your help for a compulsory course i have to take here,” cassian says. a part of you suddenly feels more inclined towards him after knowing there’s something you both have in common. you knew rhysand and morrigan came from a rich background but hadn’t known anything about cassian or azriel.

“compulsory is a big word for you,” the comment slips out of your mouth.

“i didn’t know that you thought i was dumb just because i’m strong,” he crosses his arms, “rhysand always says the same, you know.”

“we are nothing alike,” you stop cassian from going any further.

“it doesn’t matter,” he pulls out his notebook that’s in less-than-ideal condition, likely from being tossed into his backpack along with all his training equipment. “this is probably easy for you, so i’m asking for your help.”

you can’t help the chuckle on your face when you see the basic course he has to take, “this is just simple science—”

“can you help me or not?”

you sigh, before remembering the commitment you made and the look on your professor’s face, “i will.”

cassian smirks at you, “perfect, because i would not want to go back to professor bryaxis.”

you can’t help but laugh a little bit as his comment. “she’s the one who told me to start tutoring, and i was too scared to say no.”

“i can’t blame you, she really scares me…” cassian murmurs, almost as if he doesn’t think you can hear him.

the tutoring is quite simple. you explain each concept to cassian, drawing graphs and images if you believe they help with understanding. you make it your goal not to have any eye contact with cassian, instead just looking at the papers and his notebook in front of you the whole time.

it’s not until you drop your pen onto the ground and move your chair back to pick it up that cassian beats you to it, picking it up for you and handing your pen back.

“thank you,” you mutter, for the first time looking into his brown eyes. cassian pushes his long hair back before he nods, accepting your thanks.

“i still can’t believe i have prythian’s smartest student tutoring me,” cassian gives you a look that you’ve only seen him flash to certain girls in the hallways.

“you really think so? over rhysand?” you roll your eyes.

“don’t tell him i said that,” cassian winks at you. “i’m jealous sometimes that he spends so much time with you. you push him to be better, to study better. for me, i’m the only one pushing myself.”

“you don’t have teammates or your coach?” you ask.

“rhys and azriel used to play on my team in our first two years, but both of them dropped it to focus on studying. they made having coach beron way better. now i’m left with people like devlon,” cassian groans.

“i never liked him either,” you shake your head. devlon was one of the players on cassian’s team, his vice captain, much to cassian’s dismay. the two have even had a few public fights that rhysand had to break up, which resulted in both of them being threatened to be kicked off the team by coach beron.

“he’s not just annoying, he’s a terrible person. you know he has a reputation for not respecting other students right?” cassian shakes his head. “that’s why i got into a brawl with him last year. i was defending a girl in my class who he wasn’t listening to.”

“you were…?” you tilt your head, perhaps realizing that there was more to cassian than you’d expected.

“if he ever gives you any trouble, let me know. and i mean it,” cassian looks at you in the eyes again, and you realize that he’s being completely serious. cassian had just met you and already offered to look out for you.

“thank you…” you say again, realizing your time tutoring him should be over. “i’ll see you soon.”

“don’t you need help carrying all these books?” cassian says, “they seem heavy.”

“i can handle it myself,” you insist.

“i’ll take them,” cassian says.

as he begins collecting the textbooks and novels at the library desk, you take a look at cassian’s figure and his features that you’d never appreciated until now. his arms, his muscles, and you take a deep breath to collect your thoughts before grabbing your smaller bag and heading towards the library door.

cassian follows behind you, carrying you books until the end of the walk outside the library. it suddenly occurs to you that having a tall and built protector might not be the worst thing. perhaps rhysand’s friends weren’t that bad.

“thank you, i can handle it from here,” you try to take your books back from cassian, and he awkwardly fumbles before letting you grab them. you’re about to walk away without looking back to him before his voice stops you.

“well then, i’ll see you around, y/n.” cassian gives you a wink before walking off.

— NOTES

finally we have our introduction to cassian, my fav himbo 🫶

i randomly decided to make b*ron their coach (debating adding eris to this au as a background character)

sorry for the EXTREMELY long hiatus, life has been crazy lately and i’ve always hit a writers block, i can promise more chapters coming soon!!

— TAGLIST

@thelov3lybookworm @starsand @lilah-asteria @therealmoonstone @just-a-social-casualty-1 @ashjade19 @girlontheblock @cherry-cin @daughterofthemoons-stuff @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @sweet-chai-amore @kierramofficial @noelli-smv @c-dizzle99 @littlest-w01f @marina468 @dragneel-brothers