#(even then she's not like nesta lol)

[romanticatheartt]

One of the most stupid arguments I've seen regrading Elucien, is Elain can't stay in a room with Lucien...

I genuinely don't trust you and whatever thoughts and opinions you form sorry

[gwyns]

i like both rhys and nesta. they're both entitled to their emotions and reactions to things. i like that they don't get along that well, it makes their relationship interesting. they both have strengths and flaws, neither is inherently better than the other. stop having stan wars over fictional characters, it's weird as hell

[acourtofquestions]

A Maasverse note because I think sometimes characters get poorly judged both by other characters, plot lines, & fandom reception (of course this is all fictional… so this post is also purely fiction… and probably has some “fictional world differences” or “rules” to apply… but still😂)

This started with the *sarcastic* “lovely” talk with Darrow about the “people of Terrasen” because the idea of blaming Aelin — who, btw, let the record show was ONLY an EIGHT-YEAR-OLD CHILD!!! — for “abandoning them” when she WAS A CHILD really got on my nerves. Especially as even this conversation is taking place with a 19-year-old… while not 8, and “old enough” in her own right; SHE IS STILL NINETEEN… and if you ask me IF ANYONE did any “abandoning” it was the people of Terrasen who simply went “hmm… we can’t find our queen… oh no! She must have drowned! No need to think further!!! MOVING ON!” meanwhile she was KIDNAPPED, after having her ENTIRE family assassinated IN FRONT OF HER (at EIGHT) and nearly drowning to outrun the assassin trying to KILL HER, & Arobynn was NOT much better; she couldn’t escape (cause SHE WAS EIGHT and with an ACTUAL ASSASSIN) and by the time she had “learned” (been forced into & through traumatic, abusive, horrifying, painful experiences for YEARS) enough to be “allowed” to leave the keep and at all able to even possibly run far enough to somehow get to Terrasen it was already GONE there was nothing left for her to go back to or save, and (even then) she was STILL A CHILD. She came back in under 10 years, barely an adult, she SURVIVED, give the girl some CREDIT PLEASE!!! And yeah, she was an assassin, no it’s not the most moral of jobs (but this is fiction) it was that or death, she went to hell & back (this was NOT some pampered upbringing) and YOUR queen endured it FOR you (and YOU damned her to it, or is it not fair to blame you? Oh, so it isn’t fair to blame y'all… yet the EIGHT-YEAR-OLD is fine?!) and to be honest, from her lineage (which kind of doomed her already) to the state of their world, they may actually NEED/want to have an Assassin as a Queen. Like yeah, she did that, she SURVIVED that, she is capable and smart and can actually lead a war. Can any of you old men gawking at her say the same??? Hmm??? No, you can’t because even though you all saw horrors, we all know the CHILDREN of Terrassen endured the worst; Aedion fought your wars, Elide was also kidnapped (not that any of you care; but it did keep her alive—I guess?), so can we just be glad you all are alive?!? AND LEAVE AELIN BE FOR ONCE, PLEASE! (I’m sure Darrow “has his reasons” and a backstory, but as a general point & issue I really can’t stand it).

wow sorry don’t know what got into me there maybe it is a lil personal?😅😂

Then into one that keeps popping up and bothering me: the argument & anger towards Nesta & Elain. Now while it does have its place (and I have been there too during points of my first read), I also am taking it all into account, and while I’m sorry that they let her go into the woods they were children. Nesta was a CHILD. Elain was a CHILD. (Maybe I don’t know exact ages, but they can’t have been in their 20s & 30s😂). THEY WERE ALL CHILDREN TOO. While Feyre was the youngest, while Feyre deserved safety & protection, while Feyre truly did go through a lot (and the fact she didn’t feel loved is absolutely gut-wrenching and wrong) some of which she may have been able to be spared from… she also wasn’t the only child, freezing, starving, losing parents, and terrified. Even Nesta as the oldest was still a kid. Elain is not that much older than Feyre, and she was a kid too. And yes, Feyre was a child, she was FOURTEEN, she was their little sister, and she was a child too even more. But honestly the truest guilt relies on not the sisters (THREE CHILDREN) but on the ACTUAL ADULTS; their father; who did have his issues & eventually redemption (and yes parents aren’t always capable that does happen; disability, pain, grief, depression, they are beasts), but also he still remains FAR more responsible than Nesta or Elain or even Feyre EVER should have been in the first place. It lies on THE ENTIRE VILLAGE that abandoned them; CHILDREN, whose mother had DIED, whose father was CLEARLY UNWELL, who were freezing & starving (& while the village may have been struggling they COULD have struggled TOGETHER and NOT LEFT CHILDREN to their own); THEY should have been the ones to step up. Not Nesta. Not Elain. Not Feyre. The three sisters were all children. And while any oldest sibling knows we are capable of filling roles, that doesn’t make it right; nor does it make anyone’s brains fully formed… so… like… they literally couldn’t think beyond more sometimes. And yes, while I can’t imagine sending one of my siblings (older or younger) off into the woods alone for any reason (I also could understand going off before they could stop you; I can understand why & how Feyre might’ve without them even knowing; because if it were my family it wouldn’t matter I’d do it, even if someone older was there), but I also can’t pretend it would be oh so easy to keep all four people alive by yourself (to a certain extent Nesta needs to be alive because she is the only “semi-adult” in the first place) and still as a child abandoned by the world (she had her issues too) she was a daughter so sure her father would save them begging for it in agony over it and lost in the world. While I in Nesta’s shoes would NEVER have let Feyre be near anyone during a break in, we don’t know the full story, Nesta may not have had options; she may have just run, grabbed Elain who was close by, and hid because at least she could keep them alive; and she was also a terrified child. And while Elain “went along” in Nesta’s shelter without protest; WHY WOULD’NT SHE? All children crave & deserve protection, safety, kindness, love, she has that in Nesta; why would she run from the only stability she has; especially as the child that lost something else (where Nesta was the favorite & simultaneously resented their mother, and Feyre was the “forgotten” child who never got to be a child or know such a kind of safe love, Elain did which means she knew the loss of it she had a mother to grieve) she was young and terrified and holding on to the only thing she could? And what happened to Feyre was terrible, she was forced to shoulder a burden alone, she also took it on (not blaming her, just saying she also didn’t say anything; because it was survival) and yes, it was wrong. But what happened to Nesta and Elain was also wrong. The three of them were children, and they could have done better, but they did their best and survived. As adults, they have begun healing those wounds. What else can we expect other than accountability from the ACTUAL adults at fault?! *and by actual I mean fictional😂*

The past is past. (To some extent in this context side at least)

So I guess all I’m saying is WHY ARE ALL THESE YA NOVELS BASED ON BABY’s AND TEENAGERs AND WHERE ARE ANYONE's PARENTS (oh wait their all orphans that tracks now) CAUSE I GUESS IT'S THE TROPE 🤦‍♀️ and the next character that gets all political & sexist & “my way or the highway child” during the middle of a WAR by blaming Aelin (or gods forbid poor the more I learn) Aedion for what they did to survive as children during Empire of Storms is going to get my wrath😅😂🤣 and don’t you dare Darrow EVER talk to Lysandra like that again!!! *thank you, Rowan, for protecting them; your family; with pride* (at least the 200-year-old stepped up to the plate😅��😂… too soon?)

Shoutout to iwantavaldezinator for fandoming with me about the Terrasen issue😂

[ohoshi]

i hate nesta literally i cannot stand her and i don't understand why are people even liking her? she's an ungrateful narcissistic bitch and she has been one since the beginning

[timelessphoenix]

Does not make sense in my brain that Feyre doesn't know how to read or pronounce a bunch of different words and the book is written in fairly descriptive first person perspective.

Sounds a tad elitist, but congnitive dissonance is all it is. I understand that just because I can say the word "position" doesn't mean I can attach the sounds to the letters of the word when I read it on a page. But it's weird to be reading words like "crimson" from her perspective when she probably couldn't read it off a page herself. Also, she's lived in poverty for so long; does she realistically know a lot of the words she uses in her perspective? This comes up in the same chapter. "I searched for the word in the half-forgotten part of my mind. Mural. That's what it was (114)." But she's got no trouble meandering through the labyrinths of books both in front of her and on the mezzanine dangling above. Seems like Maas picks and chooses when Feyre does and doesn't know words she may (or may not) have heard and/or known in her small time as a wealthy kid. And "meandering" is a word you pick up almost exclusively by reading!! Who SAYS that in common speech??

It's just an aspect of Feyre's character that makes me think it'd be better if this was written in third person pov. Anyhoo. I keep writing this to avoid reading. Back to trucking through.

[oversizedbats]

Can’t believe it’s 2023 and I’m still racking my brain trying to figure out how people still genuinely and wholeheartedly believe that Nesta was somehow worse to the inner circle than they ever were to her

[velarisdusk]

Velvet Whispers, Midnight Truths

Azriel x Reader

word count: 5.3k content: [ explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV, az doesn't pull out lol, casual sex, hurt/comfort kinda?, jealousy, friends to lovers, language ] summary: Frustrated by Azriel's apparent indifference towards you, you seek solace in the arms of others. But words exchanged over a family dinner ignite a long-suppressed jealousy. A heated exchange, an unforeseen confrontation, and a passionate encounter follow. author's note: i received this ask a couple of weeks ago and omg i had so much fun writing this, i love drama author's note 2: HELLO!! i uploaded this like almost 4 months ago and it's still getting way more attention than i ever thought it would so thank you for that, i'm glad you're all loving it!!! i just wanted to say that a part 2 is currently in the works!! so lmk if you wanna be on the taglist (lmk if just for that or for my general taglist pls!!) ✦ . Masterlist . ✦

You liked to think you could handle a lot; political disputes, bloodshed, mountains of paperwork. But this? No, this was simply too much. You were in hysterics when Nesta found you — or rather when Nesta was rounding a corner and you bumped into her with enough force to make even Cassian stumble back.

“(Y/n), do you sincerely believe that that,” she’d gestured between you and the general direction you’d run from, “was ever going to work?” Her words were like a knife to the gut, her tone like grabbing it by the hilt and twisting. How she’d known what you’d seen was beyond you. But it wasn’t lost on her, or anyone else except Azriel apparently; the longing stares out the window down to the training ring, always sitting next to or across from him at the table, the way your scent would change when he’d pop into and out of a room — a dead giveaway of where your mind went when he was around.

So to see him like that — with her… It was a sight that seared itself into your memory. Their lips were locked in a passionate kiss, her fingers threaded through his dark hair. His hands roamed her body with unbridled desire, tracing the curves of her sides, waist, and hips, cupping her breast, and cradling her neck. To say it stung would’ve been the understatement of the millennia.

“It’s just… how he is,” her tone softened when she noticed your wince. “He was obsessed with Morrigan for five hundred years… five hundred, (y/n). I won’t be surprised if he’s set on Elain for five hundred more. What she plans to do, well,” Nesta raised her hands as if to say ‘not my problem.’ Her words were harsh, but you knew they held some truth.

“Maybe you just need to go to a pleasure house and fuck him out of your system,” she’d said plainly, smoothing down your hair as if she were discussing the weather. A pleasure house? They were illegal, but you weren’t naive, you knew they were out there. They were all underground; places you found through a friend of a cousin of a neighbor. Before you could dry your eyes, Nesta pulled a pen out of her pocket and scribbled an address onto your wrist. You didn’t want to know why she’d had it memorized. “Pretend it’s him, or the cute guy at the coffee shop, or whoever honestly. Hell, maybe even think of whoever it is you’re fucking,” she said with a smirk as she wrote. “Whatever you need to do to get over him, do it.”

You spent months in and out of taverns, walking in alone, walking out with a different male each time. It was fun… when they knew what they were doing. It was a wonder; males don’t know what they’re doing even if they have all the time in the world to figure it out. On the nights when there were enough of you for a family dinner at the River House, you didn’t miss how they all tried to scent you subtly, and eventually how Azriel’s shadows crept under the table all the way towards your feet, curling around your ankles as if trying to unravel your secrets. That was one of the many things that had stopped lately, sitting near him. The first night you took Mor’s usual seat, she’d given you a bemused look but said nothing of it. Meanwhile, the windowsill grew colder, both from the changing weather and your prolonged absence.

Your thoughts, however, were as persistent as ever. You didn’t think about him as often these days (Nesta’s advice worked pretty fast, you thought), but that was before he walked into Rhys’s office while you were discussing how to best quell the persistent tensions with Autumn.

It had been a quick in-and-out from him, typical as of late. Azriel strode in, his movements fluid and purposeful. He dropped some papers onto Rhys’s desk, leaning over your shoulder to do so. As he straightened, his right hand briefly rested on your other shoulder, the touch light but noticeable. He gave Rhys a nod and left. The warmth of his touch lingered long after he’d gone.

“We’ll have to speak to Eris again, soon,” he’d said with a barely-there note of urgency as he sifted through Azriel’s report.

“I can go,” you’d volunteered. “I’ve been meaning to go for some honey. Autumn Court honey-”

“-is the best, I know,” he finished with a soft smile. “Listen, I know I don’t need to warn you, but whatever conversation you may have with Eris, it’ll likely be heated. And tense. Things right now aren’t the best after-”

“I know,” it was your turn to say. “I can handle him, Rhysie, don’t you worry,” you teased, using that nickname you knew he’d roll his eyes at. “I’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

The feeling of Azriel’s hand on your shoulder was a brand on your skin.

Not an hour after you’d met with Rhysand, you were standing in the entrance of the pleasure hall Nesta’d told you about all those weeks ago. The kind-looking female at the desk brought out a book of names so you could choose… your companion for the evening. You’d flipped through page after page, your nerves growing with each description you read. None of them were your type to begin with, but to pick and choose from a book felt wrong. You were about to point one out at random when the door opened, and who should walk in but the heir to the Autumn Court himself?

You’d somehow convinced him not to rush out, and to have a chat over coffee. He somehow convinced you that it was meant to be that he walked in right when you were about to make a mistake.

You’d somehow convinced each other it wouldn’t be an entirely terrible and irreversible mistake to get a room at the hotel across the street for a couple of hours.

Then again one night the next week.

And again three days after that.

That was how you found yourself underneath Eris Vanserra now. It was meaningless for both of you, purely physical, but you couldn’t deny the added thrill of finding someone so mutually attractive.

“Gods, you’re so fucking tight,” he groans from behind you, grabbing your hips and pulling you back onto his cock with a force unmatched by any of your tavern trysts. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room, punctuated by your moans and heated whispers.

Rhysand would be waiting for you to get back. You were supposed to meet with Eris to discuss the logistics of a diplomatic meeting to address inter-court relations. And then there was the family dinner tonight. Almost everyone was home – only Amren was absent, her extended stays in the Summer Court becoming more frequent these days.

“Hurry up and finish, I’ve got places to be,” you tell him over your shoulder, looking his way just as he lands a firm smack on your ass.

“Better places than right here?” he asks. With a particularly hard thrust, you’re thrown off of your forearms with a yelp, face-first into the pillowy sheets.

“I didn’t say that-” You’re cut off by a moan that escapes you when he reaches around and toys with your nipple. “But I’ve got to get back and tell Rhysand that we-”

“Let’s not talk business, please,” he says, a hint of irritation in his voice. “The last thing I want to think about right now is leaving the lands of one tyrant to go back to the lands of another.” You turn your head indignantly at that, ready to defend your High Lord, when he shoves your face back into the mattress, abandoning any pretense of gentleness. Eris’s hands roamed your body, his touch igniting sparks along your skin. Your breath caught as he reached a particularly sensitive spot. You arched into him, pushing aside all thoughts of diplomatic meetings and family dinners.

This? This was simply too good.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

For the first time in months, Feyre called for a family dinner at the River House. It was a rare occurrence lately; as soon as someone returned, someone else had to leave. She and Cassian had returned from the Continent this morning, and Azriel and Nesta from Autumn hours ago.

Azriel’s gaze swept across the table, taking in the faces of his family. Rhys sat to his right at the head, one hand intertwined with Feyre’s, the other gently stroking Nyx’s hair as the toddler babbled happily in his high chair. Cassian’s booming voice filled the air, entertaining them with tales of his and Feyre’s adventure, and Mor leaned in, her golden hair catching the candlelight as she listened. Even Nesta, usually with her mask of indifference, couldn’t entirely hide the fond exasperation in her eyes as she watched her mate’s exaggerated retelling.

When his eyes fell on Elain, the tips of his ears reddened slightly. The memory of their encounter all those months ago flashed through his mind. The passion, the nervousness, the realization that followed. He’d handled it poorly. The guilt of touching her so intimately, only to find himself unmoved, still weighed on him. He quickly averted his gaze, hoping no one had noticed his momentary discomfort.

They’d been happily sitting at the table just shy of ten minutes when a realization struck him. The chair diagonal to his remained suspiciously empty. He cleared his throat, taking a sip of water to cover his sudden unease. “Where’s (y/n)?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral. “I thought we were all home tonight?”

“She’s probably with Jasper,” Cassian said offhandedly, sawing into his steak with perhaps more force than was necessary. Azriel’s grip on his fork tightened imperceptibly.

Feyre shook her head, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Jasper? No, that ended forever ago. Last I heard, she was seeing Ares.”

“Ares?” Nesta’s eyebrows shot up. “I could’ve sworn I saw her with Roan a couple of weeks ago.”

“Before Ares,” Feyre clarified, exchanging a knowing look with her sister.

Mor leaned in, unable to hide her curiosity. “Wait, wasn’t there a Soran at some point too?”

He tried to maintain his composure, but it grated on his nerves. His jaw clenched tighter with each name mentioned, his grip on his fork becoming white-knuckled. The metal bent under the pressure of his fingers, and his shadows whirled around him, betraying the storm of emotions the words had unleashed.

Elain’s soft voice cut through the chatter. “It’s been Eris a few times now.”

The table fell silent, all eyes snapping to Elain. She paused, her glass of wine halfway to her lips, suddenly aware of the weight of her words.

“Lucien mentioned something about it,” she murmured, before taking a rather large sip.

Something inside Azriel snapped. He slammed the bent fork onto the table with enough force to rattle the dishes, the sound cutting through the stunned silence. Without a word, he abruptly stood, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

Ignoring the concerned looks and half-formed questions from his family, he strode out of the dining room. His shadows darted around him, agitated and dark.

Outside, he took a deep breath of the cool night air, trying to calm the storm raging inside him. But he couldn’t; not until he knew where she was. His shadows slipped from him, spreading out into the night, searching for her. He clenched his jaw, the thought of them, of her with him, branded into his mind. With a low growl of frustration, Azriel let his shadows envelop him completely.

Azriel sat at the small, dimly lit cafe, the steam rising from the untouched cup of coffee in front of him. He didn’t need it, not really. The caffeine wouldn’t do anything to calm him, but it gave him something to do with his hands. He settled into a corner seat, his shadows swirling restlessly around his feet as he waited. He stared out the window, his eyes trained on the hotel’s entrance, but his mind was elsewhere. The fury simmered beneath his skin, an itch he couldn’t scratch, and it made him feel restless.

But why was he so mad?

They weren’t together. They’d never been together. She was free to do whatever she pleased, with whoever she pleased. He’d never allowed himself to think of her that way — she was beautiful, yes, but he had never looked at her and felt that familiar tug of desire that he’d experienced with others. She was more than that… It was different.

He scowled, leaning back in his chair as the thought sank in. If that was true, if he’d never seen her in that light, then why did the thought of her with Eris make his blood boil? What was it about seeing her with that arrogant piece of shit that had twisted something deep inside him?

His jaw tightened. Maybe it wasn’t just about Eris. Maybe it was about her.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

Azriel’s grip tightened around the coffee cup, the ceramic warm against his palm as he watched the entrance of the hotel from the cafe. It wasn’t long before he saw Eris stride out, pausing briefly to glance around as he adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. Azriel scoffed, imagining all the things he’d love to do to that self-satisfied prick. The idea of wiping that smug look off Eris’s face brought a twisted sense of satisfaction.

But then, his breath caught in his throat as you stepped out of the hotel, turning to walk in the opposite direction, towards the River House. Azriel’s jaw clenched. Were you planning on showing up and pretending nothing had happened?

He let out a slow, measured breath, willing the fury to simmer down as he pushed away from the table. Keeping a safe distance, he followed you through the darkened streets, his shadows drifting ahead to ensure your path was clear. He told himself it was just to make sure you got back safe. That was all.

But the anger, the confusion, the gnawing sense of something he couldn’t quite name — it lingered, gnawing at him with every step he took.

As you neared the house, Azriel’s pace slowed, his footsteps nearly silent as he watched you walk the final block. The moment you turned the corner, his form dissolved into shadows, and he winnowed back into the house, appearing in the dining room with a gust of displaced air.

“Az, where the hell did you–” Cassian started, but Azriel cut him off with a cold glare.

“Shut up and eat.”

“Az?” Feyre’s voice held a note of concern. “You–”

“I said sh–” he stopped himself when he looked up and realized who’d spoken. “Eat.” Azriel’s tone was softer but still left no room for argument as he dropped into his seat, his jaw clenched tight. The others exchanged uneasy glances, but after a brief, tense pause, the conversation resumed. It was quieter at first, voices subdued as they cautiously picked up where they’d left off, but soon enough, the normal rhythm returned.

Minutes later, the door creaked open, and you walked in, your presence instantly drawing the room’s attention. You hung up your coat, smoothing down your hair as you made your way to the table. But as you sat, the scent slammed into him, unmistakable — Eris. It was all over you, clinging to your skin, and your clothes, filling the room with the unmistakable evidence of your encounter.

Azriel’s fists clenched under the table, though his face remained neutral. To his left, Elain’s lips curved into a small, knowing smirk, her gaze flicking between you and Azriel. She had noticed the shift in him, the way his entire demeanor had changed the moment she casually mentioned who you’d been spending time with lately. And now, with the proof of it hanging in the air like a challenge, she could see through his cool facade, the turmoil beneath it. But Azriel said nothing, just stared down at his plate.

The table was silent as you ate, the tension thickening with every passing moment. Azriel’s gaze was fixed on you, his patience wearing thin. When it became clear that you had no intention of bringing up the unmistakable smell that lingered around you, he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Why do you smell like Eris?” His voice cut through the silence with a directness that left no room for misinterpretation.

You looked up, eyes wide with surprise at the bluntness of his question. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your response.

Azriel stayed deathly still, back straight against the seat. “You knew someone was going to ask. His stench is all over you — you reek of him. So why?”

You raised an eyebrow, your expression one of calm defiance. “I think you’re old enough to have had that conversation with someone else already.” Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Rhysand summoning a bottle of liquor from the cabinet.

A murmur rippled through the room. Elain’s eyes widened in delighted surprise, while Feyre’s face twitched, clearly uncomfortable. But a smirk played on Nesta’s lips, amused by the scene unfolding before her.

Azriel’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t look away from you. His jaw clenched, and the intensity in his gaze was unmistakable. “You know, most people would have the decency to keep their affairs private.”

Your lips curled into a sardonic smile. “And some people think it’s their job to play moral watchdog. How very… quaint.”

Mor, now holding the bottle of liquor and pouring, raised an eyebrow at the exchange but made no move to intervene, clearly interested in the outcome.

Azriel’s nostrils flared, his irritation evident. “Quaint? Is that what you call it when someone’s reckless behavior affects everyone around them?”

You leaned forward, your voice icy. “How is what I choose to do with my time affecting everyone else? And who’s being reckless here? I’m not the one who’s turned this dinner into a circus.”

Nesta’s smirk widened slightly, her eyes gleaming with a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. The room’s atmosphere grew thicker, tension palpable as both of you held your ground, eyes locked on each other.

“Can we take this somewhere else?” Azriel’s voice was edged with frustration. It was unlike him to let his composure slip.

You shook your head, a glint of challenge in your smile. “No, you’ve already brought it up. Go ahead.”

His voice dropped, carrying a hard edge. “I don’t think you should be with him.”

Your gaze hardened, your tone sharp. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’m not ‘with’ him.”

Azriel’s eyes flashed. “I don’t think you should be fucking him then!”

You met his challenge head-on. “And who are you to decide who I fuck?”

His frustration boiled over, his fists clenched at his sides. “I’m–” He started, but the words faltered on his lips. The reality of the situation hit him hard, and he realized he had no right to be this worked up. With a ragged breath, he abruptly stood from the table, circling it to your seat. Without another word, Azriel grabbed your arm with a firm grip and began to drag you towards the door. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you didn’t resist. The room’s atmosphere had shifted, the air charged with an electric tension. Azriel’s grip on your arm was firm but not harsh, leading you toward a quieter corner of the house.

He guided you into a dimly lit hallway, far from the prying eyes of your family. As soon as the hall door clicked shut behind you, the space seemed to close in. Azriel’s breath was uneven, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that spoke of more than just frustration.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “I just… I can’t stand the thought of you with him.”

You stepped closer, your voice equally low but steady. “And what does that matter to you? You’ve never been one to concern yourself with me.”

Azriel’s gaze softened. “That’s not true. I’ve always cared about you. And thinking about you with him… it drives me mad.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Didn’t seem like you were too concerned when you were feeling up Elain.”

Azriel’s expression shifted, guilt and frustration clouding his features. “That’s not fair. Things are complicated, you know that. It wasn’t about not caring for you.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Then what was it about? Because to me, it seemed like you were perfectly fine ignoring me.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, but his voice was steady. “I never ignored you, (y/n),” he said, his touch firm yet gentle as he lifted your chin to meet his gaze. “I may have been spending more time with Elain, but I never ignored you. Her and I already spoke, forever ago, a few days after it happened, actually. It was a mistake. One I deeply regret.”

You shook your head, the hurt evident in your eyes. “Words are easy, Azriel. Actions–”

“–actions were a mess, I know.” He cut you off, stepping closer. “But I’m trying. I’ve been trying.”

You searched his face, conflicted emotions warring within you. “And yet, here we are, you feeling the need to interfere in my life.”

Azriel’s gaze held yours, earnest and intense. “Because I care about you, just as much as you care about me, if not more.” You had to suppress an eye roll at that. If only he knew. “Knowing you’re with him… I can’t help but feel it’s not right.”

A heavy silence fell between you, the unspoken words hanging in the air. Before you could break it, Azriel closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a fierce, hungry kiss. It was raw, demanding, and full of the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface all this time. You responded in kind, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer. The world outside seemed to fade away. In the quiet darkness of the hallway, your bodies pressed together, the tension from your confrontation fueling a different kind of intensity.

Azriel’s hands roamed over your body with a desperate need, as if he was trying to erase the anger and frustration from earlier, trying to replace the scent tinging your usual honey and lavender with night-chilled mist and cedar. He pushed you against the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of his touch. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as his kiss grew more insistent.

You gasped against his lips, your body responding to his touch with desire and need. Your hands traveled down to the hem of his winter sweater, fingers curling around the fabric as you tugged it upwards, needing to feel more of him, needing to touch the skin beneath. Azriel didn’t hesitate; he broke the kiss just long enough to yank it over his head, discarding it to the side before his mouth was on yours again, more demanding, more fervent.

You let your hands explore the expanse of his chest, feeling the lines of hard muscle, the cool touch of his skin a contrast to the searing heat between you. Every caress, every brush of his lips, was fueled by the unspoken tension that had been simmering inside of you for so long. Though the thought of this wasn’t on your radar an hour ago, it felt as though this moment had been inevitable, the collision of anger and passion combusting into something neither of you could resist.

Azriel’s hands slid beneath your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine as he lifted the fabric, fingers trailing over your skin, up to your waist, his touch tender yet possessive. With a swift motion, he pulled your shirt over your head and then his lips were on your neck trailing heated kisses down to your collarbone.

“Is this what you wanted?” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and heavy, every word laced with the same intensity that had sparked this fire between you. “Is this what you were trying to find with those miserable fucks?” He nipped at your shoulder, his teeth grazing the delicate skin before soothing it with a kiss.

You could only nod, words failing you as the need in your body overpowered everything else. You wanted this — wanted him — and there was no space for hesitation. Your hands gripped his shoulders tighter as he pressed you more firmly against the wall, his hips grinding against yours in a way that made you gasp again.

Azriel’s eyes met yours, dark and filled with a mixture of desire and something more — something deeper. For a brief moment, everything paused, the air thick with unspoken emotions that hung between you. Then, as if some unspoken agreement had been reached, his lips found yours again, and all the pent-up tension spilled over. He pressed his hands firmly against your hips, his grip possessive as he lifted you effortlessly from the floor. With a deliberate stride, he carried you towards the guest bedroom he was staying in, his lips meeting yours once again. His lips burned against yours as he carried you down the hall, his pace steady but urgent. The guest bedroom door swung open with a firm push, and he set you down gently on the edge of the bed. The room, dimly lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp, seemed to pulse with the intensity of the moment.

He loomed over you, his hands still gripping your hips, his breaths deep as he took in the sight of you sprawled before him. His gaze roamed hungrily over your body, a smoldering look in his eyes that made your pulse quicken. His fingers traced the curve of your waist as he leaned in to press open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of your breasts. He reached beneath you, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra. You arched your back, offering him better access. With a skilled movement, he undid the clasp and slid the garment off your shoulders. His gaze lingered on your exposed skin, filled with an intense, appreciative heat.

His hands roamed eagerly, exploring every inch of your exposed skin. He paused momentarily to meet your eyes, the burning desire in his gaze mirrored your own. “Tell me what you want,” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. “Tell me how to make you feel everything you need.”

You pulled him down for another searing kiss, your fingers threading through his hair as you whispered against his lips, “Just touch me, Azriel.”

His response was immediate. He moved with a practiced grace, undressing you with urgency. Azriel took a moment to appreciate the view, his gaze dark and intense with a mixture of hunger and reverence. He shifted position, his hands exploring the newly exposed expanse of your skin. His lips followed, trailing fiery kisses down your torso, savoring every inch of you. He took his time, lingering over the most sensitive spots, teasing and testing to see what made you shiver and gasp.

He knelt between your legs, his breath warm against your inner thighs as he leaned in to kiss the sensitive skin. His tongue flicked out, teasing and exploring with a skill that made you writhe beneath him. The sensation was overwhelming, each stroke and flick sending waves of pleasure through you. His hands were steady and reassuring as he guided you through the rising tide of your desire.

The room was filled with the sounds of your shared desire — the soft rustle of sheets, the breathy gasps of pleasure, and the occasional low groan of satisfaction. Azriel’s touch was relentless and precise, each movement meant to drive you closer to the edge.

When he finally positioned himself above you, there was a moment of intense eye contact, his gaze fierce and protective, as if etching every detail of your expression into his mind.

As you reached for him, your fingers tracing the torso you’d pleasured yourself to the thought of countless times, Azriel gently took your hand in his. His voice was low and firm, filled with a mixture of resolve and tenderness. “Not tonight,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “Tonight, I want to take care of you. We can worry about everything else another time.”

With that, he shifted his focus entirely to you, his hands and lips working in concert to bring you to the brink of pleasure. His body melded with yours, the sensation overwhelming, and you gasped at the sudden fullness, every inch of him filling you in a way that was electrifying and profoundly intimate. Azriel’s movements were rhythmic and purposeful, each thrust making your breath hitch.

“Azriel,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need. “I’ve wanted you so badly.”

His gaze softened, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. “I’m here,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

You could feel the tension coiling tighter inside you, each thrust driving you further into a state of heightened arousal. Azriel’s movements were perfectly curated to push you closer and closer to the edge. His hands and lips explored your body with a dedication that made your pulse race, his touch alternating between gentle caresses and firm grips.

His lips traveled from your ear to your neck, his kisses lingering and teasing, each one sending a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through you. You arched against him, your body instinctively seeking more, craving the deep connection he was giving you.

“You feel amazing,” Azriel murmured, his voice low and filled with awe. “Every part of you. I can’t get enough.”

You managed a breathless moan, your fingers gripping the sheets as you writhed beneath him. “Don’t stop,” you gasped. “Please, don’t stop.”

Azriel’s response was a low, rumbling growl of approval. His rhythm never faltered, he was relentless in his devotion, ensuring that every inch of you was covered in his touch, every gasp and shiver met with a responsive stroke. The pressure within you continued to build, the pleasure intensifying with every passing second. Azriel’s hands traced patterns on your skin, his fingers brushing against the most sensitive spots with a skill that made you tremble.

When you were on the verge of losing control, Azriel’s lips found yours once more, his kiss deep and passionate. His movements matched the fervor of the kiss, driving into you with a rhythm that left you gasping and clutching at him. You felt a wave of overwhelming pleasure wash over you. Azriel’s movements became more urgent, his breaths coming in ragged bursts as he drove you to the brink. You clung to him, your body arching and trembling as the climax hit with a powerful intensity.

He followed you into the release, his body shuddering with his own pleasure as he held you close, his grip firm and reassuring. The world seemed to dissolve around you, leaving only the shared warmth and satisfaction of your intimate connection.

Azriel looked down at you with a teasing grin. “You know, we might want to wash up.”

You laughed, catching his playful tone. “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t head back downstairs like this.”

He leaned closer, his grin widening as he scented the air near you. “No, they’ll be able to tell we’ve been at it. You’ve still got some Autumn on you and I’m going to be the one to scrub it off.”

[cressidagrey]

Brighten Up the Sky

This started as a prompt from the lovely @satiresunflower, (though it is pretty much unrecognisable from the prompt she actually gave. She did give me permission to go wild though, so this is what you get lol) 

This starts in Chapter 14 of ACOWAR, so some of the sentences are taken verbatim from the original text. I did change it into 3rd person, because me trying to write in 1st person never ends well. I also think there is a longer story in this particular idea, but quite frankly, I don’t have it in me to write it right now. 

Summary:

A Mating Bond between her younger sister and the Night Court’s shadowsinger was the last thing Feyre had expected to spring up…but then, maybe it did make sense. 

Warning:

Public Displays of affection, kinda Nesta bashing, but like...she has her reasons?, Cassian being annoying

(Lovely dividers thanks to @cafekitsune)

“Where are my sisters?” Feyre asked, the thought clanging through her head as jarring as a pealing bell. 

Her sisters

Rhys paused for just a moment, his hand slipping from her hair as his smile faded. “Elain and Nesta are at the House of Wind.” He straightened, swallowing. “I can—take you to them.” Every word seemed to be an effort.

But he would, Feyre realized. He’d shove down his need for her and take her to them, if that was what she wanted. Her choice. It had always been her choice with him.

Feyre shook my head. She wouldn’t see them—not yet. Not until she was steady enough to face them.

“They’re well, though?”

His hesitation told her enough. 

“They’re safe,” Rhys answered quietly. 

"That’s good," Feyre murmured as she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the swirling, churning emotions inside her chest.

Her sisters...her sisters were safe. That was something. That was enough. For now. 

Only then she realised something else.

“You said Nesta and Elain are at the House of Wind,” Feyre pointed out, her hands clenching, her heart beating faster. “Where’s Alana?” she demanded, singling out her younger sister…singling out her half sister. 

The result of their father’s dalliance with a maid during her mother’s pregnancy with Feyre. Alana was just 6 months younger than her. Alana’s mother had died during childbirth…so their father had been saddled with another squealing infant that his wife was ill-pleased with. 

Nesta liked to say that that affair had eventually killed their mother. Feyre thought it to be ridiculous. It had been a fever and Alana had nothing to do with it, because she had been a literal child…and Alana had lost her voice to the very same fever. Feyre could still remember her singing like a pealing bell when she had been a child…and then…then she hadn’t been able to anymore. Even talking was near impossible for Alana, her throat unable to produce any sounds. 

Even as Alsna had been thrown into the cauldron…Her mouth had been open in a silent scream, but no sound had come out of her mouth. 

A shudder ran through her at that memory.

Alana. Her sweet, quiet younger sister. The sister that always smiled too sweetly and saw too much with those sharp eyes of hers. 

"Where is Alana?" She repeated. The silence in the room hung thick in the air as Rhys continued to hesitate.

A prickle of unease started to make its way up her spine. 

“Rhys, where is Alana?!” she demanded, her voice rising. 

“She’s safe, I swear,” Rhys hurried to promise her. “She’s not staying with Nesta and Elain but she’s safe. She should be here soon. I think…everything else…you should ask her about that.”

His words did little to soothe her worries, the unease that now clawed up her spine stronger.

“You’re not telling me something,” she pointed out, her brow furrowing. “Rhys, what are you not telling me?” 

She thought back to the last time she had seen her sister…thought back to her being poured out onto the wet stone floor from the cauldron…not a noise had come from her…nothing. She had…She had been poured out of the cauldron and had just kneeled on that stone floor as they had forced Nesta into the cauldron after her. 

She hadn’t…she had been…absent. Like the cauldron had taken too much from her. 

And then, in the moment as Mor had pushed Lucien away from Nesta and Elain, Feyre had seen Alana lunge. 

Not for the King of Hybern. Not even for Mor, who would have been closer to her…But for Cassian and Azriel for some reason. She wasn’t sure what had been Alana’s reasoning. Wasn’t sure what…Rhys had grasped all three of them and winnowed them away. 

Her heart was now hammering.

“What did you do with her?” Feyre demanded, her voice growing panicked. “What did you do with Alana? Why isn’t she staying with Nesta and Elain?” Feyre asked, her voice forcedly calm. “Rhys, what is going on?”

There was another moment of hesitation, another moment of silence, before Rhys finally replied. "She just…opted to stay elsewhere."

Those words did little to reassure her.

"Where?" Feyre pressed, her eyes narrowed. 

Rhys sighed. “How about you get into that bath that should be ready by now?” he suggested. “I’ll…tell you some of what happened. But I do think that some of the things should come from Alana and not from me,” he pointed out drily. 

The last thing she wanted to do right now was take a bath, the last thing she wanted to do was to be pacified with pretty words and nice things. That was the last thing she wanted.

But...he was right. She needed to be clean. 

Feyre growled at her mate, but stomped into the bathing chamber, stripping out of her clothing. Her fingers were near-black with dirt and caked blood. 

Rhys snapped his fingers, and her skin was nearly instantly pristine again. “Tell me what happened,” Feyre said flatly, as she sunk into the blood-hot water. “Why isn’t Alana staying at the House of Wind?”

Rhys was silent for a moment as he looked at her, his mouth in a grim line.

Then he let out a deep sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bathing tub. “A lot of things happened,” Rhys said drily. “But the biggest reason why Alana isn’t at the House of Wind is mostly that…I can’t guarantee Nesta’s safety, if she keeps spewing some of her venom in Alana’s direction.”

Feyre’s brow shot up at that, her heart skipping a beat. “What?” she demanded. “Rhys, what are you talking about?” That didn’t sound—didn’t sound like...

To say that Nesta and Alana didn’t get along was an understatement. Nesta gave Alana the fault for seemingly everything and Alana…well, she played deaf. And even more mute than she normally was. Even when Feyre‘s sister hadn’t been able to talk, she had been more than able to communicate if she wanted to, either with her expressive face, or her hands. And still, Alana had pretended like it wasn’t happening. Elain was no better to her…Elain liked to ignore Alana’s very existence.

But Alana wouldn’t have done anything…Alana wouldn’t have…

“Alana doesn’t lose her temper,” Feyre said carefully as she looked at Rhys. “She doesn’t.”

“She didn’t,” Rhys said drily. “My spymaster did.” 

A puzzled frown crossed over her face at that. “Azriel?” Feyre asked, her eyebrows furrowing. “What did he do?”

Azriel had lost his temper with Nesta? 

“If Cassian hadn’t been there, I think Azriel would have torn out Nesta’s throat with his bare hands,” Rhys said with a grimace. “It was…bad.”

Feyre’s jaw dropped.

Azriel, tearing out Nesta’s throat? With his hands? That…that didn’t sound like him. Not at all.

“I...” Feyre had no idea what to say. Why would Azriel have done that?  Feyre couldn’t…Of course, she knew that Azriel was capable of great violence, but he had never…she had never seen him lose his temper with a member of his family. Had never even through that that was a possibility. Whatever Nesta had said, must have been…

If he had gotten this angry on Alana’s behalf…What exactly had been said?

"What did Nesta do? What did she say?" Feyre asked, her voice hard. "What did she say to warrant that reaction from Azriel?" 

Rhys grimaced, shaking  his head. “You don’t want to know,” he said, his voice low. “Trust me, you do not want to know what she said. It's...complicated."

"Complicated, how?" Feyre demanded as she towelled herself off, walking back into the bedroom and pulled on comfortable clothing, her worry mounting. "What could possibly be so bad that you don't want to tell me?" 

If it was bad enough that Rhys didn't want to tell her what exactly happened...what exactly had been said.

"Well, that…” Rhys trailed off.

"Tell me," Feyre demanded again. "What exactly happened after…Hybern?"

Her mate gave in, holding out his hand and she joined him sitting on the edge of their bed.

Their bed.

She was home. Finally.

Rhys sighed.

“After Hybern…Mor dropped Nesta and Elain off at the House of Wind and then came back to the Townhouse. I had…I had Azriel and Cassian, and Alana too” Rhys said quietly and Feyre swallowed. Azriel and Cassian were healed. Rhys had told her that…but somehow she hadn’t been able to believe it…until she had seen it. 

“Amren tried to stop the blood flow from the literal hole in Azriel’s chest. I didn’t notice at first…Alana was kneeling at Azriel’s side…covered in his blood���holding his head on her lap…” Rhys’s violet eyes seemed to be far, far away, as he nearly shuddered, just thinking about it. “Azriel was…in and out of consciousness…but he was just…he was just holding onto her.”

Feyre’s heart was lodged in her throat. Azriel, nearly dead, was just…holding Alana. Her head was spinning as her mind worked hard to comprehend this. 

“The mating bond snapped for them,” Rhys finally said quietly. 

Feyre’s eyes widened. Her mouth went suddenly dry.

The…the mating bond? Alana and Azriel? Mates?

“The mating bond,” she echoed faintly. “The…the mating bond.” 

Feyre was quite sure that her jaw dropped. And that she stared at Rhys like he had just grown a second head.

“Azriel and Alana?” Feyre asked, unable to believe that. Azriel and Alana?! The brooding shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court and her youngest sister?

Azriel, who seemed to have a thing for Mor and had never looked at another female as far as Feyre was aware?

Rhys winced at her look.

"Yes, I know," he said quietly, wincing. "That was…my reaction too. I didn’t see it coming. I don’t think that anyone saw this coming...especially not Azriel." 

Feyre’s mind was racing.

Azriel and Alana. Mates.

She couldn’t…she never would have imagined it. Never seen it coming. Not in a thousand years. 

“Have they…” she wasn’t even sure what she was asking.

“Three days late,” Rhys said with a sigh. “They were not willing to wait.” 

“Three day?!” Feyre demanded. As far as she knew, Alana had never even entertained the thought of a suitor. Not that there had been any men that had looked over the fact that she was a bastard…and mute. They had never bothered to look further and Alana had never fussed about it either. 

"Three days," Rhys repeated. "The moment Azriel was well enough to be mobile again, they mated."  Rhys shuddered, his face scrunching up in distaste. “They are insufferable. The both of them.” 

"What do you mean, insufferable?" Feyre asked. A million thoughts were running through her head. Alana and Azriel…mates. They mated. 

"They could not stay away from each other," Rhys said, shuddering again. "They were...touchy. All the time. And so very...cutesy and sweet with each other. Gods, they are nauseating."

Feyre’s eyebrows rose at that. Alana and Azriel. Touchy? Cutesy and sweet? She could barely even imagine it. Alana...and Azriel. Being affectionate. 

"She’s sitting on his lap constantly," her mate groaned, rubbing his eyes hard. "And he is just…constantly touching her. I don’t even think that they have gone a whole five minutes without touching each other."

"And the looks," her mate continued drily. "Gods, they are exchanging these  looks. You would have thought that they are the soppiest, lovesick couple in existence. I did not ever need to see Azriel making heart-eyes at Alana. That was…traumatising."

Feyre pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle a snort. Azriel, making heart-eyes? That was a sight that she could not quite imagine. She…she hadn’t even thought that Azriel was even…capable of making heart-eyes. 

"Cassian and Mor kept poking fun at them. At every opportunity, which they definitely got often. Alana just…ignored them. But Azriel…" Rhys’ lips curled into a smirk. "He was not as amused as Alana by their teasing. He kept threatening violence every five minutes."

Feyre’s eyes widened at that, a laugh escaping her.

Azriel threatening violence for every five minutes that someone teased him about his new mate? She could not picture that either. 

"Cassian started making kissy faces at Alana just to see if Azriel would lose his temper," her mate said, a broad smile on his face. "And let me tell you, he nearly clawed out Cas’ eyeballs for it."

"So she's staying here?" Feyre asked carefully.

Rhys shook his head, his expression growing more serious. "She's at Azriel's house," he explained with a sigh. "It's...the cauldron left her with some...abilities. She’s a daemati…of sorts, at least,” Rhys said with a grimace. “We are still trying to figure out…how exactly it works. You and me…we need to concentrate if we want to read somebody’s thoughts. Alana…she said it was like she was standing in the middle of a market square and everybody is shouting at her,” Rhys said quietly. “We haven’t yet found anybody with shields solid enough to keep her out.”

Feyre swallowed at that. Alana, a daemati…of sorts. Having no control over whose thoughts she heard. No control over how loud everything was. 

“It’s like every mental wall, doesn’t even exist for her," Rhys said with a sigh. "Being around Amren gives her a headache too apparently. Azriel and Cassian are the most relaxing to be around according to her. There minds seem to be...even, analytical."

It sounded like a living hell. No control, no shields. Nothing.

“Is she…” Feyre’s voice was quiet. “Is she doing alright? Considering everything that happened.” 

“She’s fine,” Rhys promised her. “Alana is probably doing the best of them all,” Rhys said, something like amusement bleeding into his voice. “She can tell you all about it."

There was a knock at the door at that moment.

Feyre tensed as her eyes flew to the door.

“That’s her,” Rhys said quietly, placing a soothing hand on her leg. “Are you ready?” 

Feyre took a deep, steadying breath, pushing down her worry and her nerves.

“I’m ready,” she said. 

“Feyre!”

Her sister's voice. Her sister's voice.

Feyre’s heart skipped a beat as her body went rigid.

She couldn’t…she couldn’t believe it. After so long…after believing…believing for so long that she would never hear Alana’s voice…

Feyre remembered with a shudder the sight of small, slight Alana in her translucent nightgown…being poured out of the cauldron onto the stone...She looked nothing like she did now.

She looked well.

That was the first thing Feyre realised. Colour on her cheeks, dark, pin straight hair pinned away from her face and these devasting doe eyes…

Feyre’s eyes roamed over her sister, drinking in the sight of her. Alive. Well. Whole.

She could barely believe it, her mind struggling to catch up. 

"You can talk," Feyre whispered as Alana hugged her.  

She grimaced.

Kinda. This is easier though, she answered, her mental voice slipping into Feyre's mind without her even noticing. My throat hurts if I talk too much.

It was strange, having a voice in her mind that was not her own. Different from when her mate spoke to her down the bond. It was more…pronounced. Clearer, somehow. 

"Are…” Feyre’s voice broke again, her eyes roaming over Alana again. “Are you really alright, Al?” 

She drunk in her sister's face, the pale skin, the freckles that covered her face...she had been pretty as a human but as a fae...as a High fae she was gorgeous.

Alana’s eyes, her sister’s eyes, were still the same. Still that same dark, endless brown that had always seemed to hold so many secrets. She had never met anyone who could hold as many secrets as Alana had.

She looked so healthy, so well and Feyre felt a lump form in her throat. 

She had to fight the sudden urge to cry, as she pulled her sister into another hug. Her sister’s slender arms wrapped around her, pulling her in tight. Like she was never going to let her go again. 

I am alright, Alana promised fiercely. I am better than alright. I am...I am so happy, Fey.

The thought in her mind brought another wave of tears to Feyre’s eyes. She held on to her sister tighter, burying her face against her neck as a sob escaped her and she inhaled her sister’s familiar, comforting scent. Pomegranate and Vanilla, with an underlay of Azriel. 

He treats you well? she asked, cradling her sisters face in her hands. She didn't think that Azriel would...mistreat her but...

Alana’s eyes darkened as she thought of Azriel and her expression softened as a faint smile crossed her face. 

Feyre swallowed again. This was different. This was…her sister had never smiled like that. So open. So happy. So filled with…love. 

And then, very carefully, Feyre felt how Alana pulled at her mind in some sense and then dropped a memory.

For just a moment, it felt like she was in her little sister's body. And she stared at Azriel who looked at her, at Alana with utter and complete adoration, scarred hands cupping her cheeks so gently.

Feyre’s breath caught in her throat at that.

She could feel, could understand the feeling of Azriel’s warm, scarred hand against her skin. The way how the pads of his fingers ran over her jawline, the way how his thumb traced over her lower lip. The way how those hazel eyes of his were filled with nothing but love. 

A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine. That look, the way how Azriel had looked at her sister…it was like the expression in Rhys’ eyes when he looked at her. 

Her eyes flickered to Rhys, where he was patiently waiting in a corner.

He was looking at her with that same look in his eyes. The same look that Feyre knew was mirrored in her own eyes. It was the same, that look. Pure, utter devotion. 

It was the look of a man completely and utterly in love. 

Feyre swallowed as she turned back to Alana, her mind whirling. This was…Alana, her sister…her quiet, shy, closed-off little sister. And Azriel, the Shadowsinger and Spymaster of the Night Court. The one that no one saw as anything but sharp and deadly and a ruthless killer. 

He didn’t hurt you, did he? Feyre asked weakly. She didn’t think he would but…

Alana’s expression softened. Her hand gently came to rest on Feyre’s arm and she shook her head, a small smile on her face.

He was gentle as possible, Fey, Alana promised quietly. Gentler than I would have expected. He made sure to go slow, to be careful. He was…he was everything I could have wished for. He has never hurt me more than I wanted. 

Feyre let out a long, shaky breath she didn’t know that she was holding.

She…she had been worried. Worried for her sweet little sister, being together with a man like Azriel. Who was dangerous and deadly and…and lethal. 

What do you mean with no more than you wanted? she demanded suddenly. Alana just grinned at her, her laugh like a pealing bell.

A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine again. Alana’s…her sister’s voice, the sound of her laugh. It was the most wonderful sound that she had ever heard. She could’ve started bawling like a child, but the thought that Alana dropped into her mind just completely derailed her.

He knows what I like, and he’s happy to oblige. 

Feyre’s eyes widened and she choked on nothing.

She…oh Gods. Her face heat in a blush as Alana just continued smiling at her innocently. 

This was her sister. Her quiet, shy, closed-off sister. That was how she remembered her. And now…and now…she was standing in front of Feyre, smiling at her like a cat who had just devoured an entire bowl of cream, telling her that her stoic, broody, deadly Spymaster of a mate was apparently…into things… 

Her sister smirked at her. Alana! Her shy, little sister, who had never even so much as looked at a male with interest, stood in front of Feyre, a smirk on her face as she told Feyre that her mate knew what she liked. 

I was surprised too, you know, Alana’s voice echoed in Feyre’s mind. But well…I like it, and he’s happy to oblige. He’s very good at it… 

But the look on Alana’s face, the utter contentment in her eyes, and the feeling of…of lust from her sister, made it even more mortifying. 

Alana was happy. Her sister was happy and well, and she just radiated happiness. Feyre’s heart soared, seeing her sister like that after so long.  And even the horrifying bits, Feyre could push past.

Seeing her sister happy like this…that was worth a bit of mortification and discomfort. 

So she swallowed her mortification, and just pulled a face at her smirking sister.

Enough with the gory details, for the love of the Mother. she chided her in her head. Alana just let out another pearly bell kind of laugh.

You should come downstairs. Nuala and Cerridwen have given Lucien some clothing and showed him to a bathing chamber. Lunch should be served soon, if you are hungry, Alana said into her mind.

I am famished, Feyre confessed in her mind. “Lead the way,” she said aloud and Alana just rolled her eyes, taking her by the arm and pulling her downstairs. 

And then something else came to her mind. What did Nesta say to you?

Alana sighed. Nothing that matters, her sister said easily as they reached the dining room. Azriel and Cassian were waiting for them.

And then Feyre saw how her sister turned from happy to radiant as soon as she saw Azriel. 

Feyre watched with ill disguised horror, as the spymaster’s shadows came over to Alana, seemingly swarming around her. Whatever bits of naked skin they could find…in this case her hands and face, because she wore a long sleeves high necked gown, they caressed. Nearly sweetly. 

Alana absentmindedly drew her fingers through one tendril as she floated over to Azriel, sitting down onto his lap like that was an utterly normal thing to do. Feyre could just stare as Azriel pressed a kiss against her sister‘s cheek, one scarred hand possessively spanning her waist.

Like this was normal. Like this was something they had done dozens of times…like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like this was their usual routine…and Alana smiled at him, broadly, pressing a kiss against his cheek in greeting. 

It was...it was surreal, watching Alana like this. So much more open, less reserved than Feyre had ever seen her. And the way how Azriel looked at her...Feyre had never seen him express such open and utter adoration before. 

Cassian made a retching sound, catching Feyre’s attention. Azriel’s eyes darkened as he threw an icy look in Cassian’s direction. Alana just snuggled deeper into Azriel’s chest. 

Azriel let out the smallest of chuckles at Alana’s behaviour in his lap, one of his hands coming up to gently play with a strand of her dark hair as he pressed another kiss to her forehead. 

The quiet, brooding Spymaster of the Night Court, who could be downright terrifying when he wanted, completely and utterly smitten by her little sister. 

Feyre could just stare. 

She had not for one moment thought that they would…would be a good match. But here they were. 

Alana...Feyre had never seen her sister like this before. So open, so happy. So...unreserved. She was like a cat, settled in the lap of her male, letting him pet her like she was...like he owned her. And it seemed like Azriel would gladly claim ownership too. The possessive, proprietary look on his face told Feyre all she needed to know. 

“Get a room, for the love of the Mother,” Cassian drawled with a disgusted look on his face as Azriel buried his nose in her sister’s hair and Feyre shot him another dirty look. Alana just stuck her tongue out at him. 

Azriel just bared his teeth at Cassian, a silent warning to watch his tongue in the direction of the woman in his lap, who was busy playing with the buttons on his fighting leathers. 

“What did Nesta say?“ Feyre repeated as she sat down herself. 

The reactions were immediate. 

Azriel growled.

Feyre couldn’t help but flinch slightly. That growl...she hadn’t heard him make that sound before. It sounded utterly terrifying. Alana didn’t even flinch. She just touched Azriel’s chest in a soothing gesture and Azriel immediately quieted down, holding her even tighter. 

It doesn’t matter what Nesta had to say, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind.

“It absolutely does,” Feyre muttered, feeling some anger rising in her. Her sister deserved better than what Nesta had to say. 

I don’t care what she says, Alana replied in her mind. She can believe whatever she likes. She is entitled to her opinion. 

“She can be quiet about her opinion,” Azriel hissed. Only then Feyre realised that her sister must have been projecting her mental voice so that everybody could hear it.

"Azriel." Alana's voice was soft. "It's alright. We both know the truth. It doesn’t matter what she believes"

Azriel looked down at her and a slight frown appeared on his face. He gently cupped her sister's chin, his hazel eyes staring into her dark ones. Feyre could practically hear the silent conversation between them. 

Cassian sighed. "Nesta found out about the mating bond between Azriel and Alana and she didn't take it well," he told Feyre drily.

Of course, she didn’t. Of course, she didn’t. Feyre ground her teeth together. 

"So what exactly was said?" she asked sharply.

Cassian and Rhys shared a look as Azriel let out another warning growl. Feyre ignored him. 

I want to know, Feyre snapped towards Alana. Her sister stiffened. 

Feyre, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind, a hint of warning in her tone. Feyre pushed down a wave of irritation. 

Tell me, Feyre demanded. She was done with secrets. Done with not knowing things. 

It’s nothing, Alana tried to brush her off and Feyre’s irritation flared up in her stomach. 

It is not ‘nothing’. Feyre snapped at her. Her sister’s face was a stoic mask as Azriel let his hand span across her stomach. 

Nesta made a comment about how she was surprised that Azriel hadn't ripped me apart during our...mating. But maybe she shouldn't be surprised because I was a whore anyway, Alana finally answered. How a brute like him was all I amounted to, given that I was a bastard...and then there was some more stuff in that rant about how unfair it was that I had landed on my feet but Elain is...well...Elain isn't doing so good, Alana answered flatly.

Feyre felt her blood boil in her veins. Of course, Nesta would say something like that, the bitter, twisted...- Feyre bit down on the string of curses burning on her tongue. 

Nesta isn't doing well, Feyre. You can't take what she is saying right now to heart, Alana warned her softly. You haven't been in her mind...it's...it's bad.

Feyre felt some of her anger cool down ever so slightly. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t pissed off at Nesta for what she had said. Even if...even if Nesta wasn’t doing well. 

That doesn’t change anything about what she said, Feyre said through gritted teeth. 

I am not defending her, Alana said firmly. I love Nesta. Doesn’t mean that I like hearing her talk about Azriel like that. But Feyre... her voice grew softer. I have seen her mind. Her thoughts. She isn’t in a good place right now.

Feyre grimaced, feeling her anger slowly disappear. She didn’t like it. She didn’t want to. But...maybe Alana was right. Nesta was her sister, and Feyre loved her. Even after everything that had happened between them. 

Still...what she said... Feyre said weakly and Alana’s lips quirked. 

I know, she said gently. I was angry too. I nearly tore her head off. But Azriel...he was furious. I’ve never seen him like that before. 

Feyre didn’t need to be told how furious Azriel had been. The look in his eyes, the clenched jaw and the growl that Feyre had heard...she didn’t need anyone to tell her how the usually stoic male had been absolutely furious about what Nesta had said. 

"I'll talk to her," Feyre said aloud.

She ignored the dubious look that Cassian and Rhys were giving her. Her sister just smiled at her softly and nodded. 

Talk to her gently, she urged in Feyre’s mind. Please. And don’t...don’t try to defend me. It will only start a fight. 

Feyre winced. Even though, she didn’t like the thought of it and not defending her sister went completely against her nature, she knew that Alana was right. And her sister could read her thoughts with ease anyways. 

I’ll bite my tongue, Feyre promised her. Alana smiled at her again, that smile that lit up her entire face. Feyre felt her heart clench at the beautiful sight. 

“Thank you,” Alana said happily, her voice like the most wonderful sound. Feyre had a feeling that that was the thanks not only for agreeing not to defend her but for just...not making a scene. Feyre felt a small, answering smile tug at the corners of her own lips.

Instead, she watched her sister pick up a piece of bread from the plate in front of Azriel and hold it up for him to eat without another word. A silent gesture of acceptance.

Azriel’s lips twitched as he looked at his mate, sitting on his lap like she belonged there. But he obediently opened his mouth, a subtle sign of complete surrender to Alana. 

Cassian made another retching sound. Alana ignored him.

Azriel was the one who kissed Alana.

Feyre could have gone quite a long time without that sight. Especially because it wasn't a simple peck on the cheek or a quick kiss to her lips. 

Feyre could have gone forever without seeing her sister like this, settled in the lap of her mate, their bodies pressed together tightly as Azriel kissed her, devoured her, his hands possessively splayed out on her slender waist. 

"Now you are just fucking with me," Cassian said with a sigh.

Alana just broke out in a fit of giggles as Azriel threw a glare in Cassian’s direction. 

“Maybe I am,” Azriel mused, as Alana settled back into his lap. Azriel’s one scarred hand was back to playing with a strand of Alana’s hair. “Jealous?” he asked lightly and  Cassian actually growled at him.  Azriel snorted, his hand possessively covering Alana’s stomach, who was smiling like the happiest person in the world. 

“Shut up,” Cassian huffed. “I am not jealous. I just don’t want to know what you two get up to at night.” 

"Only at night?" Azriel asked drily. "Brother, you have much to learn."

Feyre groaned internally at the hint in Azriel’s voice as Cassian looked a little ashen, while Rhys burst out laughing and Alana let out another one of her pearly-bell like laughs. 

“Stop tormenting him,” Rhys said with a chuckle as Cassian tried to recover. “He’ll have nightmares for weeks if you continue like this.” 

“That sounds like a you problem,” Azriel replied, completely unrepentant, “not ours.” Alana was still giggling, a sound like tinkling bells in Feyre’s ears. 

“Of course you say that, you bastard,” Cassian said with a sigh as Azriel’s hand on Alana’s stomach started to slowly wander upwards. 

Feyre could see how Alana’s cheeks flushed slightly in response to the possessive touch. How her breathing quickened ever so slightly. Azriel’s lips twitched as he noticed it too. 

"We'll let you deal with Lucien," Alana said suddenly, gaining her feet quickly. "We'll see you at dinner. Az?"

“Coming, sweetheart,” Azriel said and Cassian made another retching sound as Feyre could feel the waves of possessiveness coming off Azriel in waves. Her sister was his. 

In a matter of heartbeats, they were gone. Feyre was left with Cassian and Rhys who were both looking at her intently. 

"Yes, they are always like that, if you wondered,” Cassian said with a roll of his eyes. "I think they are still in the Mating Frenzy."

“Most likely,” Rhys agreed with a chuckle. “But they also don’t seem to care who sees it. Mor is still horrified from walking in on them a few weeks ago.” 

“So would I be in her shoes,” Feyre said honestly and Cassian snickered. 

“They are insufferable, aren’t they?” He said with a grin. Rhys just chuckled. “So utterly happy.”

“Yes,” Feyre agreed, the image of the two of them, completely oblivious to the world around them still in her mind. “Unbelievably so.” 

“They’re also completely and utterly devoted to each other,” Rhys mused. “It is…kind of sweet.” Feyre nodded thoughtfully. 

It was sweet. The way Azriel looked at her sister, how he was so utterly possessive about her. And Alana…there wasn’t a hint of hesitation about her when it came to Azriel. 

"As long as she's happy," Feyre said quietly. As long as Alana was happy.

[silverfairywings]

— IN THE WAKE OF FLAMES. PT I

eris vanserra x archeron!reader

summary: even before you became fae, your favourite season was autumn. it’s a little hard to hide this when your least favourite newly appointed high lord has made it his life’s mission to be the most annoying male in your life.

a/n: not sure what this is but let me know if u want more lol

You’d think that hiding behind the Spymaster of the Night Court, a literal Shadowsinger, would allow you to blend in well enough to go unnoticed.

The auburn silk of your dress is a near perfect match to the grandeur of the Autumn Court ballroom you’re unfortunate enough to have to be in, and you tell yourself that the attempt at camouflage is the reason you were so drawn to the colour.

When Rhysand approached you and the rest of the Inner Circle with the invitation of a ball thrown by Eris to celebrate his newly inherited title of High Lord, your sister Nesta had dragged you out to shop for new dresses. You were adamant to wear an old gown until the dress caught your eye, the gold beads glinting in the light, almost mimicking a gently burning fire. The deep orange hue of the silk slip was muted ever so slightly by the sheer overlay, cinching at the waist before cascading to the ground and the wisps of fabric around your legs gave the illusion of sparks every time you moved.

Nesta had made a comment about the dress being perfect for Autumn Court and you had to physically restrain yourself from grimacing. You just liked the colour. It didn’t mean a thing.

Nesta and Feyre looked like perfect representatives of the Night Court and even Elain was donning soft shades of purple and blue tonight, a perfect embodiment of twilight. You loved your sisters, but you felt like you never quite fit in to the Night Court the way they had grown to. And you certainly felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb tonight.

Eris was definitely going to comment on the dress and you curse yourself internally, not having thought it through. He was jarring at the best of times, let alone a night that was solely dedicated to him. And you were dressed in the colours of his court.

You were extremely glad when Eris’ mother was the one to greet you all when you first entered the Autumn Court and not him. It allowed you to fully appreciate the beauty of his lands with unrestrained awe. Your sisters knew that Autumn had always been your favourite season, so the way you were so happy catching each falling leaf out of the sky was even more amusing to them considering they also knew how little patience you had for Eris.

That’s why you find yourself hiding behind Azriel’s wings tonight. As soon as you spot Eris making his way to greet Rhysand and Feyre, you sneak behind the Shadowsinger in an attempt to make yourself invisible.

“Seriously?” mutters the Illyrian, but he stays still for you all the same.

“Keep quiet,” you hiss, prodding him in the back. “You know very well how much he targets me. Gods, I thought he hated Cassian, but I seriously give him a run for his money.”

Mor, overhearing you, snorts into her cup. She creeps up next to you, lowering her voice to match yours. “You are so oblivious. He doesn’t hate you. He wants-”

“Might I interrupt the riveting conversation that I’m sure is going on behind the Shadowsinger’s wings?” you hear a voice drawl from in front. Your blood runs hot at being caught and you nearly burst into flames when Azriel starts to lower his wings, revealing you and Mor. She rolls her eyes at Eris’ attitude and walks away to talk to the pretty faerie in the green dress.

The years have softened the strained relationship between the Circle and Eris and none of them view him as a threat any longer. That doesn’t mean they find him any less irritating though.

Eris smiles at you when you cross your arms and clench your jaw, already feeling impatience with him bubbling up inside of you. He glances down at your dress and his lips quirk up a little higher. “Looking stunning as ever, Y/N.”

The others have already dispersed, and even Rhysand and Feyre have started to garner the attention of other important people they need to talk to. As they start to leave however, Rhysand speaks to in your head. Let me know if he’s bothering you too much. Just… try not to throw a plate at his face this time, please.

You glare at the back of Rhysand’s head. That was one time.

He doesn’t respond but you see his shoulders shaking with laughter for a millisecond before Feyre nudges him to behave in front of an Autumn Court official.

“Talking about me?” Eris asks, amused. You open your mouth to snap back at him, but notice the growing number of guests that are around the two of you now that the others have moved away. You bite your tongue for once. He is the High Lord now after all.

You plaster on a sweet smile. “Only good things… High Lord.”

Eris raises his brows at that, but chooses not to comment. He holds out his hand instead. “Dance with me.”

You’re about to laugh in his face and tell him absolutely not, but his request has caught the attention of a couple guests and they nosily look over in what you’re sure they think is a subtle way. “I’m a little tired. Sorry,” you say through gritted teeth, still smiling.

“Surely you’re not going to deny me such a small request on tonight of all nights?” he says softly, part mocking and part pleading.

You know for a fact he won’t force you to dance, but if you deny him in front of the other guests, it’ll undermine him and while you dislike him, you’re not that cruel. Plus, Feyre would probably have your head if you were to insult a High Lord in public. In private, she only ever laughs when you disparage him, but appearances are everything.

“Of course not,” you deadpan, reaching for his outstretched hand and trying not to react to the way the warmth radiating through his palm is warming your previously cold fingers.

He leads you into the crowd of dancing guests, placing his free hand on your waist as you rest yours on his shoulder, keeping a respectable distance. He rolls his eyes and tugs you forward so your chest is nearly flush against his own. When you glare at him, he merely smirks. “It’s a little hard for two people to dance when one of them is halfway across the room from the other.”

You hear a giggle from one of the guests near you and nearly whip around to glare at them. Eris catches the expression on his face and it’s as though he can read your mind with the way he’s holding back a grin. “My apologies,” you mumble, before lowering your voice to a whisper that only he can hear. “Smartass.”

“I do so enjoy your pet names for me,” Eris teases, utterly unbothered. Every time you interact with him, you swear to yourself you’ll keep a cool head. And every time, you fail. “I like your dress.”

You narrow your eyes at the compliment, but since he hasn’t actually said anything insulting or with a double meaning like he usually does, you don’t have anything to be annoyed about and begrudgingly accept the nice words. “Thank you.”

“You look ravishing in the colours of my court.”

You step on his foot.

He hisses in pain, but the grin doesn’t leave his face when he sees that he’s succeeded in irritating you.

“I didn’t choose the colours on purpose,” you say, defensively. “I just happened to like the dress.”

“You know, you often happen to like Autumn colours,” he muses, expression turning thoughtful and not in a sarcastic way this time. “Or any colour that isn’t of the Night Court’s fashion. Tell me, do your sisters know how you long to find someplace you actually belong?”

Your stomach drops and you feel like you’ve been doused in freezing cold water.

“I wasn’t aware you were a Daemati, High Lord,” you say, scowling. Eris furrows his brows at the title and spins you out before bringing you back in, this time a little closer than before. “You’re wrong.”

“Stop calling me that,” he mutters, a hint of impertinence in his voice. It takes you by surprise since you assumed he’d be revelling in all the glory, the power of High Lord coursing through his veins. Instead, he sounds like a boy being denied his favourite sweets. “Call me Eris again.”

“No.” You frown at him, pulling back slightly to meet his stubborn gaze. “We’re not friends. You’re the High Lord of Autumn now and I’ll be addressing you as such.”

“What, I’m High Lord now, so you have to respect me all of a sudden?” he asks, tilting his head.

“Yes,” you sigh, already anticipating this conversation taking a turn you don’t want it to.

“You have to be pleasant with me?”

“Yes.”

“Listen to my commands?”

“Yes.”

His smile turns wolfish. “Then I command you to call me Eris.”

“I can think of a few other things to call you, if not High Lord,” you mutter, careful not to allow any eavesdroppers to hear.

“And while I’d love to hear them, I doubt they’d be suitable for the delicate ears of court officials.”

While he’s exactly right, the way his eyes twinkle with mischief tells you that he’s insinuating a completely different type of unsuitable and your cheeks burn.

“Don’t you ever tire of being so wearisome?” you say, drily. His eyes soften ever so slightly as they scan over your face.

“Don’t you ever tire of pretending?” he asks quietly, meeting your eyes determinedly. You don’t bother asking him to clarify.

“Why can’t you just mind your own business?” You try to snap at him, but the way his words hit you deep have all the bite leaving your voice and instead you sound imploring.

Eris doesn’t answer your question and just keeps going as the two of you dance. “My mother wants me to tell you that you’re welcome to visit any time, by the way.”

“I’ll let Rhysand know.”

“She didn’t say Rhysand, she said you.”

”What?” You look up at him, shocked. That was probably the last thing you expected him to say, “Why in the world would your mother want me to visit? She saw me hurl that plate at your head last month.”

“Yes, and she told me I probably said something to deserve it,” he grumbles, but without any real malice when talking about his mother. It’s clear as day that he has nothing but love for the sweet woman.

“She’s a smart one, your mother,” you say, grinning at the thought of Eris being reprimanded. You catch him watching you without speaking and immediately frown, not wanting him to think you’re actually smiling at him. Which you definitely aren't. “I still don’t understand why she wants me to visit.”

Eris shrugs, although his eyes stray from yours, and he’s seemingly bored with the conversation as he looks down to the floor as your feet move gracefully across it. “She likes your attitude.”

“My bad attitude?” you ask, wrinkling your nose in genuine confusion.

“Passionate,” he corrects you, meeting your eyes again, and you find no traces of humour in them. “And ‘fiery’ as she called it. Don’t feel bad for not being able to always control your emotions in front of others like the rest of them. You’re allowed to feel.”

Any response you might have had is lost to nothing and the silence stretches as your heart feels like it’s slamming against your chest. It’s a mix of fear and something else with the way he’s looking at you and you suddenly need to be anywhere else.

Clearing your throat, you step back in the middle of dancing and lower your hand from his shoulder to smooth down your dress. Your other hand is still ensnared in his and it lingers there while he speaks.

“If you do accept my mother’s invitation, you don’t have to see me if you don’t want to,” Eris adds and you try and listen out for any veiled mocking.

“Why do you even care?”

At this, his lips quirk up almost involuntarily. Slowly, his fingers start to loosen up around your hand and he begins to let go, faintly trailing his hand down your own as he does so. Instead of stepping away, he walks closer, stepping to the side slightly to lean down so his lips brush against your ear in a way that makes your breathing erratic.

“My mother was telling me that she saw you practically light up like a forest fire surrounded by the trees. She feels as though you should be able to stay longer next time,” he says in a normal voice before lowering it to a whisper. “She also overheard one of your sisters call Autumn your favourite season.”

Before you can protest and, let’s face it, lie to him, Eris calmly walks away and you know for a fact that the smug bastard is smirking at the way he’s succeeded in getting under your skin.

There’s no way you’re accepting his mother’s invitation, as sweet a woman as she is. You think about all the possible ramifications and decide to push the thought in its entirety out of your mind.

Nothing good ever comes from agreeing to dance with Eris. It’s extremely similar to playing with fire, you think.

[ch3rrybbie]

hii since you're taking requests could you write something with azriel? maybe something where reader is bonding with Lucien over unrequited mates (except azriel doesn't know they're mates, it has only snapped for her) and she thinks he wouldn't want her but he totally does and is super jealous and then happy ending lol. thanks!

Afterglow

Warnings: angst, reader is depressed?, mentions of canon violence

Note from author: tysm for the request, uni is being uni atm so struggling to write so quick lol but I hope you love itttttt will try get other request and next Randall part out heheh.

———

Lucien had to take you to the great open of the spring court. He was desperate to console you. His worry was etched across his face and yet you felt nothing.

So he sat beside you and waited.

———

You started off into the vastness of the green. Breathe. If you squinted a little the scenery grew blander and reminded you of the mortal lands.You thought back to how this pain had grown.

Your mother had always warned you love made you weak. She saw how deeply you loved Feyre at such a young age, you’d go tripping over branches just to be near her. She saw that if that was how much you loved a friend , to truly love someone would almost certainly destroy you. And human turned fae you felt how much the bond was too heavy to carry.

Your love for Feyre took you north of the border, you were by her side through every fight. Fists clenched and teeth bared. She was your sister and you fought like it. You’d seen every turn of leaf with her and you were so ecstatic to see her reunited with her blood sisters with a baby on the way truly, finally happy.

Yet you were in despair.

———

You, Feyre and Lucien had an instant bond. You rode all over the spring courts, ate, danced and laughed together. Tamlin however, your lip curled at the thought of him.

After being whisked away to the house of wind you remember the exact day you met the cause of all this hurt.

You’d suddenly felt a presence coming, you turned to Rhysand and demanded to know who was here. Both Feyre and Rhysand were stunned as you were still human. Then he approached alongside Cassian and you could barely tear your eyes away. Your heart knew him, your soul , your very being.

And yet he was nothing but sterile towards you only relinquishing a firm nod. Cassian on the other hand swept you up like a mighty warm wave telling you he’d heard lots about you.

———

Months later when your mission to Hybern went disastrously wrong the pain of seeing Azriel broken and dying on the hard stone floor made you want to sweep him up into your arms. All splashing and screaming from Nesta and Elaine had been tuned out you couldn’t help but stare at him breathing cinched. You tried shouting down whatever feeling you had but nothing. Your eyes urged him to get up, look up anything.

“Bring her”, the king lazily waved his hand at you. His men dragged you by your hair, you writhed and screamed.Closer and closer they dragged you level with Azriel and the others. The great hall span and they slammed your head against the stone, chaos ensued with Feyre screaming and Elaine wailing.

In your blurred state you opened your eyes to see shadows and a scarred hand straining your way.

You awoke the freezing water. The cauldron was somehow ice and fire it burned and cooled. It was life and death itself. You prepared yourself to accept the latter.

The mother lent down and kissed your eyes,she bound her blood to yours and gave you a gift.

You didn’t remember much after that.

———

You were in a coma for many moons, Feyre and Rhys sent for healers across the land mostly because your gift from the mother had shown itself. Your longing for home had caused the room they rested you in to be flourishing. It was a sight to behold even Nesta admitted.

Great roots twined around the bedposts, ivy curled around the door, moss and wiry grass shot up from the carpets and flowers bloomed. Elaine took to maintaining your garden, Nesta read to you and Feyre wept over you and stroked your hair. When Lucien had arrived to court he ran straight to your room and shadows seemed to watch over you in everyone’s absence.

Everyone did their part in looking after you, everyone but Azriel.

Throughout your sleep, the flowers rustled, grass weaved its way up to you and roots kept watch. All whispered the events around you, another odd gift of the Mother.

The day you awoke you wasted no time in searching for Azriel, the last you remembered he was dying. You followed the great rope in your soul that had replaced the string that previously tugged you to him.

The study was still and beautiful as you remembered, more so in his presence. His wings grew taught as he sensed your presence. “I’m awake” you couldn’t help but proclaim.

He turned, “I can see that” he coldly threw back.

Your world crumbled, even as fae he couldn’t love you or even feel more than indifference.

He brushed past you, “I shall alert the others”.

You shoulders sank, and yet your heart warmed at the thought of seeing everyone. After an hour of being grabbed, hugged and kissed. You’d all shed as much tears as you could. Feyre and Lucien offered to walk you to your room.

Before you slipped into your room you couldn’t help but ask, “Is he okay?l”. They didn’t even need to ask who, Luciens face softened and Feyres grew taught.

“The past few months have been hard for him Y/N”, Feyre gently lay a hand on your shoulder.

You attempted to be sympathetic before losing control of your temper, “And it wasn’t hard for me?! The least he could’ve done was visit once!” You threw the great oak door to your room open and slammed it in their faces uncaring of how juvenile you were being.

“Y/N” Feyre pleaded, you heard Lucien pull her gently away stating you needed space.

You allowed your anger to flow out of you, translating into great black ropes of thorns growing everywhere and they bowed out of the way of no one but you. That’s not to say everyone didn’t try. One by one they knocked and burst in, only to be defeated by thorns which was entertaining for awhile until you realised yet again everyone came but him.

You send crawling ivy about the house searching for him. It found him in the garden with Elaine, you let it shrivel and die there. You didn’t care who saw anymore.

The thorns grew sharper.

———

Lucien burst in one afternoon he didn’t speak a word, he barelled straight to you. Strands of his fiery hair and drops of blood left in his wake. He grabbed your wrist dragging you out of the fetal position. He winnowed you to the only place he had ever truly seen you happy.

Spring court.

———

“She’s gone!” Feyre cried panicked as she burst into the study. Rhys rushed to her as Cassian and Azriel shared a confused glance.

“Who?” Rhys questioned.

“Y/N, Lucien went up to try coax her out and they’re gone”

Rhys and Cassian froze anticipating Az’s reaction.

Azriel stormed out the room with Cassian not far behind.

“Az where in the cauldrons name are you going we don’t know where she is yet”

“I don’t need to know” he spat back

Cassian gripped his shoulder, “Don’t be stupid” he chastised

“What if it was Ness”

Cassian let him go stunned into silence.

Rhys informed Az mentally you were in the spring court offering to winnow him but he was gone and soaring towards his heart.

———

Lucien carefully started to talk from beside you.

“We were so happy here so I just- , I don’t know I thought I could force that joy back” he looked at your mournful gaze and sighed.

“He’s your mate isn’t he?”

Your head snapped towards him, Lucien could’ve sworn the grass did too.

“Elaine is mine”

The wind stopped and the grass stood still.

You said nothing crawling closer and laying your head on his shoulder, you felt at home.

You felt like a child again.

Tears blurred your vision and you let them slip.

The wind resumed, grass swaying peacefully.

“You know I’ll always love you Lucien no matter what, I mean not like that but you know”

He roared with laughter making you jump and burst out laughing.

You both calmed and watched the vast fields you could’ve sworn you heard the roars of Tamlin in the distance. He stayed away nonetheless.

You rested your head back on Lucien’s shoulder and your tears swelled again.

“What do we do?” you mournfully asked him.

You felt him breathe in sharply before cutting out

“I don’t know” a pause, “but I know you can’t do what you were doing we’re worried about you and rightfully so, I mean you’re been down right lazy. And so cliche, come on thorns-“

You cut him off shoving him over, you never would get used to the new strength you had.

You saw the playful glint in his eye and lept to your feet sprinting away he gave chase and you were back to where you started running around fields being chased by one of the platonic loves of your life. You wished Feyre could happily be here again.

But you finally felt happy again.

Truly.

———

Azriel no longer had to sense your presence he heard your giggles from afar. What he saw made his fists curl. Lucien had grabbed you and started spinning you around. His fury pushed him to land with an earth shattering crack.

He advanced on Lucien as he dropped you in confusion.

“Azriel what are you doing-“

Lucien fell to the ground as Azriel shoved him with thankfully not all of his might.

You surged forward to come between the two. Azriel felt as though the reedy grass was wrapping around his legs.

“What in the cauldron are you doing?!” You yelled, fury sounding across the clearing.

Lucien’s eye squinted as he assessed the situation a slow smile crept onto his face, “I’ll leave you two to it”.

He disappeared.

Azriel still seemed furious, “You can’t just disappear like that Y/N you scared us half to Hybern and back”

Your rage was once again summoned , “Do not delude yourself into thinking you care for me Azriel”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He spat back

You felt your hands start to shake with anger coursing through you, all this time he disregards and runs from you and NOW he wanted to play possessive.

“You do not get to turn up and demand me to stay at your beck and call when half the time you fly out any room I enter! Shouldn’t you be guarding Elaine or finding places to hide from me”.

Shame finally dared cross his face and he turned from you. His shadows grew more agitated. They retracted from being near you, their proximity startling you.

You turned on your heel and marched into the woods, you needed to get away from him. Before your rage turned into a confession.

“Y/N” you heard him mutter.

You fell into a soft march that was further percussioned by his footfall.

Great knarled trees lining the meadow attempted to stop him from entering the dense forest but he pushed through his shadows staying a whisper away from you.

His shadows didn’t bother reporting back to him.

He knew where you were.

Hunched over the pool of starlight he could’ve sworn you’d crawled out of it,the softening sun cast a glow through the dense trees, a fallen star had come and somehow stolen his heart.

He didn’t even want it back.

———

The pool transfixes you, Feyre had shown it to you during your time there and it soon became your private diary. Little whispers you’d let skim across the surface and lift the weight from your shoulders. When you met the inner circle and came to know Velaris you were so sure you were home. That the stars had listened. You were now sure they must’ve forsaken you, ripped out your heart and replaced it with a dying star.

You paid no mind to the crunch of leaves, you’d already felt him follow you there was no need for him the make his presence known.

“Go home” you spat coldly eyes not lifting from the pool of starlight.

“Come home with me” he gently offered.

“My home is closer to here than I ever thought it could be in Velaris” you muttered.

His hurt was palpable.

Good.

As Lucien just did he relented and came and sat next to you in silence.

The dying star inside you was getting darker with the realisation you’d always feel like way about him and you couldn’t have a mortal lifespan this would be generations of hurt.

So you spoke.

“Why Azriel, why are you here who sent you” you muttered dejected.

“No one. I-….” He trailed off lost thought, jaw clenched with the unspoken.

“Tell the truth” you sighed.

“Please just for once in all the time you’ve known me give me something” you begged.

He looked back over to you, wind brushing over you how he longed to.

He steeled himself, guard finally dropping.

“I was so afraid watching you that day”.

Silence as your brow furrowed.

“Your human body was so fragile, tossed around like blown sand.” Eyes tearful and locked on you.

“And I had to lie there dying and watch you almost die and that was a greater anguish than anything they could’ve unleashed on me”. He sighed as he saw you squint at him.

You stood angrily finger pointed at him as Nesta did. He couldn’t help his lip twitching,you really were one of them.

“If this is some ploy to bring me back to Velaris you will find you’re sorely mistaken in its use.” A great seething hiss of air spat at him.

He couldn’t help but laugh, only you could take a confession with suspicion. From almost crying to the woman he loves to laughing in her face, could this day get any worse?

“You jest?! I laid in wait of you for seven moons Azriel and you were nowhere to be seen! Lusting after Elaine I suppose” A dry laugh cut from your mouth.

All humour abandons him

“Is that what you suppose?” He huffed.

He rounded on you and stood towering, gathering the patience he needed to confess.

Patience found he continued.

“I couldn’t bear to see you laid there unmoving” he breathed deeply he looked furious. “I’d only just recovered so I sent my shadows although I suspected they were already watching when I couldn’t”.

Your face softens. Shoulders sagging.

He continues, breaking those walls you so flimsily held against him.

“For that I apologise, I should’ve been there no matter how much it hurt. I was with Elaine because her gardening reminded me of you the most” he smiles “after you so spontaneously decided to decorate it was the closest thing I had to you, the only thing of you I could touch”

Your lips part in want.

“I have wanted you from the moment I smelt you, and when I saw you my fate was sealed” he smirks at your lust struck face, hand going to cup it.

“Why not tell me?”

“I saw how well Elaine and Lucien’s discovery went” he smoothed his fingers against your lips.

You seized his hand, “I felt it when I was human, I felt you when I was human and I always will”.

Tension was strung like the fireflies now floating above you as dusk encroached.

He smiled and crushed his lips to yours in what felt like a thousand years of longing.

You both drew back just staring at each other,relief blatant.

“Let’s go home” his eyes pleaded.

“Sure” you smile

“I’ll cook” you smooth hair behind his ear as his eyes widen.

“Are you sure?” He asks warily.

“I tell you I’ve known you were my mate when I was human and you question me?” You laugh heartily.

“Now move it bat boy” you march off with a smirk.

He has no choice but to follow his heart.

And come up with an apology and thank you for Lucien.

[serpentandlily]

Now That We Don't Talk

Part I

Now That We Don’t Talk - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of your mate’s betrayal.

Warnings: major angst, mentions of grief and loss, mention of infidelity 

a/n: this has a happy ending, I promise! I’d also like to mention that I never usually blame the woman when a man cheats, but in this case, both parties knew of the existing relationship and bond so *death to all of them* lol jk…for now…I hope this lives up to your expectations!

────────────

“That’s it, Y/n,” Madja said, taking a step backwards as she carefully monitored you between two support beams. “Go slow.”

Your shoulders and arms were straining as you held yourself up using the two beams, slowly raising your foot to take another step forward. You groaned at the pain, feeling flustered and embarrassed that walking was taking you so much effort. 

Cassian and Nesta had turned one of the larger chambers in the House of Wind into a physical remedial room. You had sessions in here every day with Madja, Cassian almost always there with you and in times he couldn’t be, Rhys would fly up to be with you during these. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell your brother that you preferred when Rhys was here instead of him, only because he always magicked his wings away so you didn’t have to see them. Cassian’s were just a reminder of what you had lost. 

Relearning to walk has been one of the hardest parts of losing your wings.

Even now it was a struggle to simply stand. You were too used to the weight of having wings on your back and using them to balance. You felt their absence in more ways than one.

But this one was easier to deal with—the physical part. It was the mental and emotional part that still kept you up at night. The loss of freedom, having to know you’d never be able to fly again. The nightmares. The embarrassment. The shame. 

You had never been a particularly proud Illyrian, never agreeing with the way your people were raised and the culture they lived in. But still, having those wings made you a part of something bigger than yourself—a community, a tribe, a family. 

You weren’t like Rhys, not a half-breed like him. You didn’t have the pointy ears to make you fit in with the wingless High Fae. You’d always be other to them. And now you’d be other to your people as well. 

You tried to blink away the tears forming in your eyes but it didn’t matter. Your brother seemed to sense the change in your mood and rose from his chair in the corner where he had been monitoring the session.

“You’re doing great, kiddo,” Cassian said, trying to encourage you to keep trying. “One step at a time.”

“I can’t,” you choked out, your muscles straining from the effort to keep you upright. “I-I can’t.”

“You can and you will,” Cassian said, sternly. “Come on, I know you can do it.” 

“I can’t.”

You wobbled, letting out a long exhale. You had only made it halfway to the other side of the mat. Pain pierced through your still healing back, serving as another reminder of what you had lost. Your fractured hip had healed already but the bones still felt like they were being grinded together every time you moved your legs. 

“Thank you for your help today, Madja,” Cassian said, sharing a look with the older healer. “I can take it from here.”

Madja, as if also sensing the shift in the atmosphere, took her leave without argument to give you some privacy with your brother. 

“Just make sure she eats something after this. Her body needs more nourishment,” Madja said on her way out. The noise of the door shutting behind her was all it took for the hold on your emotions to completely crumble. 

You felt your legs give out as a cry escape from your throat. Cassian darted forward, catching you only just before you hit the ground. He slowly lowered you the rest of the way, going with you to hold you in a tight embrace as sobs racked your body. 

“I-I can’t do this, Cass,” you cried over and over again. “I can’t do this.”

He knew you weren’t just talking about walking.

Every intake of breath reminded you of the heavy weight of your heart in your chest. It was unbearable, all consuming. The heartache, the pain, the feeling of the mating bond still lingering in the background of it all. You wanted to rip your heart out, wanted to scream and scream but all that came out were inaudible words and sobs. 

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” Cassian murmured, petting your hair on the back of your head. “I promise you.” 

“My wings, Cass, m-my wings are gone,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face.

Cassian cradled your head in his neck, pulling you tighter against him. His own body was tense and you knew he was holding back his own emotions, trying to be strong for you. “I know, kiddo, I know.” 

“M-my wings,” you cried. “My wings. I-I want them back, Cass. P-please, I want them back!”

“I would cut off my own wings and give them to you if I could, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered, his voice filled with despair. “I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t understand this feeling, would never unless he too lost his wings. You remembered when he almost had after protecting Azriel in Hybern from the blast of the Cauldron. Azriel…Just thinking of his name was making you spiral further, choking on your own sobs. 

There had once been a time when Azriel had been the one to save your wings. And now he was part of the reason why you lost them. You weren’t even sure which hurt more at this point. His betrayal or the loss of your wings. 

Both felt so violating. 

A piece of you, of your body, ripped away along with your trust and heart. Your mate sleeping with another female and coming home to you. Looking you in the eyes and keeping that secret from you each and every day. Making love to you knowing he was sharing himself with another behind your back. How were you supposed to move on? 

It didn’t help that you weren’t fully rid of Azriel. The bond was still an unwelcomed presence inside of you, still sang his name–called for him–despite the hurt he had caused you. You wanted to tear it to shreds. 

“Why?” You cried, wrapping your arms around Cassian’s neck to fall into him further. Your brother held you as tight as he could, stroking your hair, whispering words of support in your ear. “Why wasn’t I g-good enough, Cass? W-why wasn’t I enough for him? What is wrong with m-me?”

The guttural wails that came from you caused Cassian to squeeze his eyes shut, trying to keep his own tears at bay. Your chest heaved as you struggled to even breath under the crushing anguish that was consuming you. He held you as you shook, held you as your tears soaked through his shirt, held you as he restrained himself from shooting off to go find Azriel and kill him. 

“There is nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Nothing,” Cassian growled. “Azriel is a fool for losing you. He’s the fuck-up. Not you.”

“He is my mate, Cass, my mate. And he–he did this to me. Why?”

“Because he’s a miserable bastard who doesn’t know how to love,” Cassian growled. 

You couldn’t even register his words over the pounding of your own wailing heart. “What did I do to deserve this?”

You felt so violated, so vulnerable, so completely and utterly shattered. The pain of your broken heart seemed to echo in the depths of your very soul. Why hadn’t you been enough for him?

Was Elain just that much better? Was she prettier, smarter, a better female? Could she give him something you couldn’t?

“You didn’t deserve this. You did nothing wrong,” Cassian murmured into your hair, kissing the top of your head. “You are so much better than them, sweetheart.” 

“B-but then why wasn’t I enough?” Your cries met their crescendo, your hands shaking as you clung onto Cassian’s shirt with tight fists. “Why wasn’t I enough, Cass? Why?” 

Your voice was hoarse, your words cracking as you spoke. But there was nothing left to say. 

Nothing left to say at all. 

You weren’t good enough for Azriel, for your own mate. You weren’t good enough to keep his attention. Not good enough to keep his love. 

You were just simply not enough. 

Cassian held you there as you cried and cried, held you as the weight of everything you lost engulfed you. Held you through the raw grief that surged like a tempest within you. Held you until you had cried yourself into a fitful sleep, only then rising to carry you back to your room. 

────────────

As soon as Mor had gotten word about what had happened, she immediately started her journey home from the continent. She had gone to you the minute she landed in Velaris, but Cassian had turned her away because he didn’t want to interrupt your sleep, something you hadn’t gotten much of since the attack.

But that was okay because she had a few things she needed to take care of. 

“Where is she!”

Mor’s shout rang through the entire house, the ground quaking underneath her as she stormed into the dining room where a very morose dinner seemed to be taking place with Rhys, Feyre, Elain and Amren at the table. Rhys shot up from his seat. “Y/n is at the House of Wind with—”

“Not her,” Mor snarled before pointing a finger at Elain, who stared at her wide-eyed. “You.” 

Before anyone could stop her, Mor launched herself forward, grabbing Elain by the hair on the back of her head and slamming her face down on the wooden table she was sitting at. Rhys cursed while Feyre jumped up from her seat, thanking the Gods that Nesta wasn’t here for this. 

Rhys grabbed Feyre by the arm, shaking his head at her. “Some things need to be fought the fae way. Let her learn.” 

Amren leaned back in her chair, not so much as flinching at the display. 

Mor kept her fist wrapped in Elain’s hair, pressing her face against the hardwood as the other girl cried out, blood dripping down her nose.

“That was for Y/n because she’s up there learning how to fucking walk again because of you,” Mor hissed before yanking Elain up by her hair until she was standing. 

Elain cried out for Feyre but her sister just pressed her lips into a thin line, Rhys’s hand still around her arm. Feyre was disappointed in her sister for what she had done but she still bristled as Rhys’s amusement at the scene traveled down their bond.

Mor decked Elain in the face, the sound audible, causing Feyre to flinch. Elain’s head whipped to the side as she dropped to the floor with a loud sob. “And that was for Cassian because he would never lay his hands on a weak, pathetic female but I will. Remember that.” 

Elain’s cries rung out in the room, blood dripping from her now broken nose and a bruise already forming on her cheek. Mor ignored her as she looked to Rhysand.

“Where is the other one?” Her voice was full of anger. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” 

“I don’t know,” Rhys sighed, finally letting go of Feyre. She rushed to Elain’s side, helping her off the floor and out of the room, giving Mor a remorseful look, feeling guilty over what her sister had caused. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“He disappeared once Y/n woke up and made it very clear she didn’t wish to see him. I have no idea where he went.”

“That fucking coward,” Mor grumbled. “Why is Elain still here? This is Y/n’s home, not hers. She shouldn’t have to be the one who leaves and you know she will if those two are still around. Cassian would leave with her too—I’m sure of it.”

“I know he would,” Rhys said, sitting back down and putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do, Mor. If Elain wasn’t Feyre’s sister I would’ve had her banished in a second and Azriel…Gods, he’s my brother. I can’t believe he would do something like this. He loves Y/n. I don’t know why he would hurt her like this.” 

“Azriel has always been his worst enemy,” Mor sighed, sitting next to Rhys. “We’ve all tried to help him as much as we could but this just isn’t something we can help him with. Y/n is going to need our support. This could destroy her.” 

“It already has,” Rhys replied. “She might leave our court regardless of whether or not we send Azriel and Elain away. I wouldn’t blame her. I’ve already let her know that if she wants out, I’ll have everything set-up for her.” 

“What of the girl’s mate? The redhead,” Amren piped up, crossing her arms. “Does he know yet? You know how males are. He might call for a blood duel against Azriel.” 

“Lucien has already been informed about what happened,” Rhys spoke. “Cassian has been on a warpath and was all too eager to tell Lucien. I think part of him hoped he would duel Azriel. But Lucien wouldn’t.” 

“So what happens now?” Mor asked. 

Rhys looked at her and she took note of the heavy bags under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping. Neither had she. She was certain none of them had. Azriel had caused a giant rift in this family—one felt by them all. 

Rhys held back his tears, clearing his throat.

“I know what was to be done,” he breathed out. “But it’s going to be hard. He was…He was my brother for over five hundred years. Regardless of what he’s done, it’s going to be hard to say goodbye.” 

Mor rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know, Rhys. Nothing about this is going to be easy.”

“He cannot be trusted anymore,” Amren added. “Anyone who could cheat on their mate cannot be trusted. He might as well have spit on the Mother’s face for what he did.”

“I just want to know why. Why would he do this?” 

Mor let out a long breath. “I’m not sure you’ll ever get an answer. I think Azriel, himself, can’t even answer that question.” 

“I failed her, Mor. I knew how dangerous that mission was. I should’ve never given it to her,” the quiet cry shook Rhys’s body. 

“Azriel was supposed to be with her, Rhys,” Mor said. “It’s not your fault. He failed her. This was his doing.” 

But Rhys just shook his head, the tears finally slipping free from both of their eyes. 

“Get it out now, Mor, before you see her,” Rhys choked out. “It’s…hard to see her in the state she’s in. Prepare yourself. We have to be strong for her.” 

“I know,” Mor whispered, wiping at her tears. “I know.” 

────────────

“Hey, kiddo,” Cassian’s voice pulled you from your sleep.

You blinked awake, groaning at the pounding in your head. It took you a second to realize you were in your room. Cassian must’ve carried you here after your breakdown yesterday. 

Cassian was sitting beside you, stroking your hair. “I brought you some breakfast and someone is here to see you.”

It was only then you noticed the other person sitting at the end of your bed. 

“Mor?” Your voice was hoarse, the word barely escaping. “You’re here?”

“I came back as soon as I heard,” Mor said, leaning forward to clutch your hand in hers. “How are you doing, babygirl?” 

Mor had always felt like an older sister to you. Her friendship with your brother had made the two of you close. 

“I’m…I’m not doing good,” you replied, honestly. “I can’t…I don’t know what to do, Mor. I don’t know how to move on from here. Part of me wishes I died in that alleyway. I wish I died the minute my wings were cut off.” 

“I know,” she said, sadly. “I wish I had an answer for you but I don’t. It’s going to be hard, but we’re going to be with you every step of the way.” 

“Come on, why don’t you sit up so you can eat,” Cassian murmured, putting a hand on your back to help you up. 

“I’m not hungry,” you protested.

“You have to eat something, sweetheart,” Cass said gently. “Madja’s orders.”

But you shook your head. You didn’t have an appetite. Everything still hurt so much. 

“Just give her a second, Cass,” Mor murmured. 

Cassian frowned but nodded. He brushed some of your hair away from your face again and the soothing motion started another round of tears. 

“Hey, hey,” Cassian whispered. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Cass! How will I ever be able to show my face again?” you cried. “I will be shamed, spit on, shunned because I lost my wings—because I couldn’t fight for them. I can never return to Illyria. I won’t be able to help train with the girls anymore.” 

“Emerie told me the girls are already awaiting your return. They miss you,” Mor reassured. “Who cares about what the stupid males are going to think? Most of those females have had their freedom of flight taken from them. They would never shun you for what happened.” 

Your eyes fell on the many bouquets of flowers and get well cards on your nightstand. Cassian had been bringing them to you. Your heart ached at the sight. 

“But I failed them, Mor,” you sobbed. “I failed them. I’m supposed to be strong. I’m supposed to be a warrior and all it took was one male to completely destroy me. I’m worthless to them now. How can I teach them to fight for themselves if I cannot even do that?” 

“You are not worthless,” Cassian said, sternly. “You are more of a fighter than half of those Illyrian males. You continue to fight each day knowing you have to live with the loss of your wings. Most of the males would’ve given up already, sweetheart. You are stronger than you think.” 

“I-I’m not. I’m weak and a failure,” you cried. “I couldn’t protect my wings. Couldn’t keep my mate’s love. Couldn’t…couldn’t–”

Your sobs overtook your words, your entire body shaking. 

“Listen to me, Y/n.” Mor demanded. “You are not weak. You are not a failure. You are a million times better than the two assholes who hurt you. You will survive this. You will survive him. I promise you, Y/n, I promise you.” 

She embraced you, holding you as you broke down into gut-wrenching sobs once again. 

────────────

The air was tense to say the least. Rhys was standing behind his desk, palms pressed flat against the surface as he stared at the two people sitting in front of him. Feyre stood next to him as both a pillar of support and the High Lady. 

Azriel’s eyes were downcast. He hadn’t even looked at Elain since he had been dragged into this office by Mor—a new black eye and a bruised jaw decorating his face. Elain stared and stared at him, her eyes pleading with him to look at her but he ignored her presence. 

Azriel looked rough. He hadn’t shaved, his eyes were bloodshot, but the most surprising thing was his lack of shadows swarming him. 

“Where are you shadows?” Rhys asked. “I swear, Azriel, if you sent them after Y/n, I will bring Cassian down here to do with you as he pleases.” 

Azriel looked up, shaking his head. “They won’t sing to me anymore. Not since…Not since the accident.” 

It was true. His shadows had hissed at him, recoiled in his presence before they dissipated as if they too had felt his betrayal. They had wailed in agony at the loss of Y/n. They had always skittered away in Elain’s presence, probably the only reason they never yelled at him when he was with her…but it seems this time, they had left for good. 

Despite his curiosity, Rhys decided to drop the subject. This was not the time or place for that discussion. 

“Feyre and I have come to a decision about what must happen due to the results of your actions,” Rhys said, his voice full of authority and resignation. 

“What? But we’ve done nothing wrong!” Elain exclaimed. “I know we shouldn’t have gone behind Y/n’s back but we’re in love!”

“I don’t care,” Rhys snarled, baring his teeth. “I don’t care how much you two claim to be in love! Azriel has caused irreparable damage to his own mate—a member of my court, of my family. And you were complicit in that.” 

“Are we not your family too? Feyre is my sister!”

“And Y/n is mine,” Rhys retorted. “And Cassian’s.”

Elain crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “So we’re being punished for falling in love? It’s not our fault the Cauldron decided to make someone else our mates. It was never our choice.” 

“You’re not being punished for falling in love, if that’s even what we can call this,” Feyre spat out, staring at her sister with disappointment. “You’re being punished for how you handled a sensitive situation. You’re being punished for lying to our whole family and for causing it to be torn apart.”

“You’re not being punished at all,” Rhys snapped. “If you were, both of you would be in a cell in Hewn City and I’d let Cassian decide what your punishment would be considering Y/n would never have the heart to hurt either of you. This is simply the consequence of your own stupid actions.” 

Azriel’s head shot up at the mention of your name. “How is Y/n? Is she doing okay?” 

Feyre went to answer but Rhys shook his head at her. 

“You don’t get the privilege of knowing anything about her at this point, Azriel,” he huffed. 

Azriel stood from his chair in anger. “She is my mate, Rhys.”

“Sit down,” Rhys commanded, his voice rising for the first time since the meeting started. “Funny how now you acknowledge her as a mate but not when you had your tongue down Elain’s throat.” 

“Fuck you, Rhys,” Azriel growled, but sat, unable to fight the power of a High Lord’s order. 

“No fuck you, Azriel! I thought you were my brother! How could you do this to Y/n? To our family? Both of you should be ashamed. You are already getting off easy, don’t make me rethink my choice. Lucien has every right to storm in right now and demand a blood duel against you. And even though it’s not a practice in my court, I’d even let Y/n declare one against Elain.”

Elain’s face paled but Azriel only scoffed in indignation. “As if Feyre would ever let anyone kill one of her sisters.” 

Feyre stepped forward, glaring at the shadowsinger and Elain. “I’m done protecting her. Nesta is done protecting her. We have spent our whole lives taking care of her thinking she was just too soft for this world—too naive and innocent. But I think we’re finally seeing the real you, Elain. And it is time for you to face the consequences of your own actions, make your own way in life.” 

“So what are you going to do? Are you going to force me to live in the House of Wind like you did Nesta?”

“No,” Feyre said, stone faced before looking at Rhys. They had decided together how they would handle this situation.

“You are both hereby banished from the Night Court,” Rhys declared. “I will not tolerate Y/n having to lose her own home after she just lost her wings and we are going to do what's best for her. Lucien has made it clear that you both will not be welcomed in Day either and Helion is standing by his son’s decision. Beyond that, we cannot help you. You will pack your things and leave immediately. If you step one foot in this court after you leave, I will be notified and you will face worse repercussions.” 

“What?” Elain exclaimed. “Feyre, you can’t be serious! Look, I’ll move out of the Riverhouse. We can live in Azriel’s apartment and avoid Y/n.”

“That apartment belongs to Y/n too, you know,” Feyre snapped. “We have already made our decision. We will not be negotiating any terms.” 

“Rhys, come on,” Azriel said. “I will leave but you don’t need to banish Elain too. She did nothing wrong.”

“Elain knew you were a mated male, knew you were together with Y/n. While I agree that what you have done is worse, she still knew what she was doing wasn’t right.” 

“Where are we supposed to go?” Elain cried. “I don’t have any money. I don’t have anywhere to go, Feyre. You can’t just toss me out like this.” 

“Azriel has money,” Feyre shrugged. “I guess you’re his problem now.” 

“You know none of the other High Lord’s will want me in their courts, Rhys,” Azriel snarled. “Not after the things I’ve done for you.” 

“Should of thought of that before you betrayed our whole family.” 

“I hear the old Manor is still abandoned in the human lands,” Feyre remarked. “Since Vassa had reclaimed her territory with Jurian at her side and Lucien had moved to Day to be with his father.” 

“We can’t survive there,” Elain sobbed. “Humans hate faeries.” 

“Not my problem, Elain,” Feyre said. “You’re not my problem anymore.” 

“Azriel, do something!” Elain cried, looking at the shadowsinger. 

“What do you expect him to do?” Rhys laughed humorlessly. “He no longer has his title, his place in my court. He has no sway here. You both don’t. You will not change our minds.” 

“Nesta won’t allow this!”

“Nesta,” Feyre said, “is packing up your things as we speak.” 

Elain fell back in her chair, crying. 

“I’d say I wish you two the best, but I don’t,” Rhys said. “You have two hours to sort out whatever you have to before I expect you both to be out of my court. Two hours. Do you understand?” 

“Please,” Elain begged. “Please don’t do this, Feyre.”

But Feyre only shook her head at her sister. “There’s no going back for either of you. Say your goodbyes, sort out your affairs, but you will leave in two hours.” 

Rhys took his leave after that, giving Azriel one last look that was full of disgust, guilt, regret, sadness. One last look at his brother before striding out of that room, never to see or speak to him again. 

────────────

Mor had just left when you heard the flapping of wings approaching your balcony. Thinking it was your brother, you pushed yourself to stand and hobbled over to the balcony doors using the walls of your room for support. You opened the door, expecting to see your brother, but your heart stopped when you came face to face with Azriel. 

Your eyes narrowed and you went to slam the door, but he grabbed it before you could. 

“Please, please just hear me out,” he pleaded. “I will leave, I promise, I just…I just—please.” 

“There is nothing you can say that will make me forgive you, Azriel.”

“I know, baby–”

“Don’t you dare call me that!”

Azriel looked down at his feet. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m not here to try to earn your forgiveness, Y/n. I know I fucked up beyond repair. I know I failed you, failed us. Words will never be able to convey how much I regret everything.” 

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe as your legs threatened to give out. You were debating screaming out for Cassian. 

Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stone that looked to be enchanted. He held it out towards you. 

“I can’t…I can’t hear the shadows anymore,” he murmured. “But I can’t just leave you without some way to contact me. In case you ever change your mind, in case there is ever a chance that we can be together again. You’ll be able to call for me with this.”

“That is never going to happen.”

“Please, just take it,” Azriel begged. “Even if you don’t want me, please. If you’re ever in danger again and need help, you can use it for that too. Just please, take it.” 

When you said nothing, didn’t so much as open your palm so he could place the stone in it, he knelt down and placed it at your feet instead. You stared at him, emotionless. You didn’t want to give him anything. He didn’t deserve your tears or your sadness. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry for the way things ended,” Azriel said. “You deserve a better mate than me. If I never…If I never get to see you again after this, I promise I will find you in the next life and the one after that. I will do right by you. I will give us another chance.”

He stared at you, pleading with you to say anything. Anything. Even if you screamed at him, beat him, cried—anything was better than this utter silence. But you didn’t. You merely looked at him like he was nothing to you. Like he was a stranger. 

“Goodbye, Azriel,” you said. “I hope you find happiness in your life. Truly.”

And then you slammed the door shut and walked away. 

And he knew then that your words would haunt him for the rest of his life because he knew he had lost the one real thing that had brought him true happiness forever.

────────────

One Year Later ~ Winter Solstice 

“Get up, you lazy cow!”

The sheets were yanked off your sleeping body, exposing you to the cold morning air. You let out a shriek, cursing at your brother and trying to grab the sheets back.

“What the hell, Cassian!”

“It’s Winter Solstice!”

“It’s also six in the morning,” you retorted, falling back down on your bed. 

“Nope, you’re not going back to sleep,” Cassian said. “It’s time to get up!” 

Before you could even respond, Cassian grabbed you by the ankle and yanked you to the end of the bed. You squealed as he tossed you over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, pounding on his back as he raced out of the room.

“Cassian! Let me down, you big brute!” 

But he only laughed at you, carrying you all the way to the kitchen where Nesta was sitting at the counter with a steaming cup of tea. She didn’t so much as blink as he dropped you into the chair next to her, already used to her mate’s antics. 

“Goodmorning, Y/n,” Nesta said, pushing an already prepared cup of tea your way.

“Oh, you are an absolute goddess,” you groaned, greedily accepting the mug. You curled your ice cold fingers around it, relishing in the warmth. 

“Hey! What about me?” Cassian yelled, swinging a wash cloth over his shoulder as he started to make breakfast for the two of you. “I’m the one making you guys food!”

“You’re also the one who woke us up, dingbat,” you scoffed, causing Nesta to snort.

It wasn’t long before Cassian was sliding a plate of pancakes your way. “Eat up. You have a long day ahead of you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him but accepted the food, scarfing it down. It was almost hilarious how out of the three of you it was Cassian who cooked the best. 

After breakfast, you retired to your room to get ready to go down to the River House for the real celebrations. Cassian had cryptically told you to wear pants, so you did. You had no idea why until hours later, when you were all lounging in the sitting room after lunch. 

A knock on the front door had you jumping up from your seat. “I’ll get it!” 

No one batted an eye as you raced for the door, pulling it open to see Lucien standing on the doorstep. You let out a noise of excitement, grabbing him in a hug.

“Lucien!” you exclaimed. “You’re here early!” 

A few weeks after the incident, Lucien had sent you a letter asking how you were faring and offering you support. He became a lifeline while you had dealt with the aftermath of saying goodbye to your mate and healing. You both leaned on each other during that time because you were simply the only two who understood the pain of having a mate who fell in love with another. 

“Happy Winter Solstice,” he said as you pulled away and opened the door wider so he could enter. “I’m actually here to retrieve you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Is everything ready?” 

Your brother’s voice came from behind you and you whipped your head around to stare at him. He was wearing his flying leathers now only confusing you further. 

“Yes,” Lucien nodded. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, suspiciously. 

No one else followed Cassian out. Not even Nesta. You frowned as he shook Lucien’s hand, giving him a friendly whack on the back. 

“You’ll see,” your brother said with a grin. “Lucien is going to winnow us somewhere, kiddo, to your solstice gift.”

You looked between them with narrowed eyes but accepted Lucien’s outstretched hand. His grin was the last thing you saw before you were pulled away in a flurry of wind. A second later, you appeared in the middle of a clearing. 

The tall green grass, the slightly warm breeze, the lack of snow, told you that you were in the Spring Court. You whirled to face your brother who let out a sneeze as soon as he got his bearings. 

“What are we doing here?” 

“So, you know how when Feyre was brought back she was given a drop of power from every High Lord?” Cassian asked. 

You nodded, not understanding where this was going. Your hand slipped into your pocket, around a stone that was always kept there. The one Azriel had left you. You had never used it but for some reason, had never parted with it either. At some point, you had started holding it whenever you felt nervous or fell back into the heartache you had experienced last year. 

“Well, of course she inherited part of Tamlin’s shapeshifting powers. And we thought maybe she could shapeshift others the way he does, but after numerous tries, unfortunately it seems as though the sliver of power she received only allows her to transform herself.” 

“It was not fun being the guinea pig for those test runs,” Lucien laughed. “When Feyre was unable to do it, we had to turn to someone else.” 

“Okay, but what does that have to do with me? Or my solstice gift?” 

Before either of them could respond, a noise came from the shrubbery in the distance. Tamlin’s beast form pounced out from it, striding towards you. You gasped and backed away, right into your brother’s chest. He placed a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “He’s here as a favor to Lucien.”

“And Feyre and Rhys approved this?” you whispered up to him. 

He nodded his assurance.

You let out another gasp as Tamlin shifted back into his fae form. He looked well, better than the last time you had seen him at least. He seemed to have regained some weight and gotten a haircut. You knew he was still in the process of recovering his court. You wondered what sort of strings Lucien had to pull to get him to willingly let you and Cassian come here considering his history with your rulers.

He gave you and Cassian a polite, but bland, greeting which you reciprocated.

“Are any of you going to tell me what’s going on?” 

“Tam is going to help you shapeshift,” Lucien explained. “If you will allow him.”

“Shapeshift? But why would I–”

It clicked in your head, what they were implying, why they had brought you to this large clearing. You whipped around to look up at your brother who seemed to be holding back tears. He gave you a nod, already knowing what you were asking.

“W-wings,” you choked out. “He can give me wings.” 

“It won’t last forever,” Lucien said. “But yes, he can give you wings.”

Tears started slipping down your cheeks and you lurched towards Lucien, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. You…you were going to have wings. You were going to be able to fly!

You didn’t care that it wouldn’t last forever. Just the chance to fly once more was a gift in itself.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his ear. “Thank you.” 

Lucien laughed, hugging you back before you slowly pulled away from him. You looked over your shoulder at your brother. “This was your idea?”

Cassian shook his head. “As much as I wish I could claim this, it was actually Lucien who thought of this first. I’m just here to supervise–and to offer you a flying partner if you’ll have me.” 

You smiled up at Lucien, unbelievably touched at the thoughtfulness. Lucien wiped your tears from your face, gently, before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Are you ready?”

You nodded with enthusiasm.

Lucien gestured at Tamlin to come closer.

“Thank you for doing this,” you said to him with a small bow of the head. 

“I once watched a faerie die after losing his wings,” Tamlin murmured. “Its…Its a horrific crime. One my family has a history with. I’d like this to be my first step towards making amends for their mistakes.” 

You weren’t sure what to say, so you just gave him a grateful nod of the head. He focused intently on you and you felt his magic surround you. It felt nice, like a crisp Spring breeze. And then you felt a familiar weight on your back. You stumbled for a second, readjusting to how it used to feel having wings. But it surprisingly came back to you quite easily.  

You looked at them over your shoulder, stretching them out and flapping them a few times. They looked just like your brother’s and you realized Tamlin must’ve used him as a guide. You grinned, facing Cassian. 

“Race you towards the end of the clearing,” you shouted before taking off into the sky. 

Your brother’s laughter followed after you as he too launched into the sky. 

+++

Hours after night had fallen, you found yourself behind the River House, leaning on the railing to watch the slow moving river. Your wings had since dissipated, but you hadn’t felt this light in a long time. Being able to fly today had healed you in some way.

You had spent a lot of time thinking while you flew amongst the clouds. Thinking of who you used to be. Sometimes you missed that girl, sometimes you wished more than anything to be her again. 

But you hadn’t felt that today…

Today, you had felt like a new person. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. And perhaps in a way, you were. 

Life had never been predictable. Your whole life had been filled with tragedy and sorrow, challenges and hard work, happiness and joy, regret and insecurities. You had gone through so much, so much, but somehow, you were always able to come out on the other side.

It wasn’t easy. It involved many days of despair, awful thoughts, and soulless recovery. You had to fight to get up sometimes, had to fight just to feel something. Sometimes it seemed like you’d conquer one mountain only to be faced with another. 

If it wasn’t for your brother, you were certain you would’ve fallen back a dozen times. But he had been your pillar of strength, your rock to rest against when things got too hard. And Mor and Rhys had been there to help lift you back up. 

You had gained new friends, found a new life for yourself. Metamorphosed into a new person. 

That girl from a year ago? 

Well, you were finally going to let her die. 

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the stone Azriel had left you. You ran your thumb over its smooth surface. It didn’t hurt as much to look at it now, not like it had before. Before it had represented so many things.

The loss of love, the grief of losing your wings, the reminder that he had betrayed you. 

But now…now it just looked like a rock. 

You gripped it in your fist and tossed it into the Sidra, watching as it hit the water’s surface with a small thud before sinking down into the black water. Down and down, until it would find its way to the bottom. Perhaps then it would drift out into the sea. 

You heard the backdoor to the house open.

“Hey, Y/n, come on!” Mor shouted out to you. “We’re going to Ritas!” 

You took one last look at where the rock had disappeared in the water, letting out a long breath. 

“Goodbye,” you whispered into the cold air. “I’ll see you in our next lifetime. Maybe then you’ll deserve me.” 

With a new weight lifted off your shoulders, you turned and marched back to your new beginning. 

[potatoplace]

I Look in People's Windows

Cassian x Archeron!Reader (unrequited)

The Afterthought: Chapter 1 | series masterlist

part 2 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: You are the youngest Archeron sister, saved from the fate of the Cauldron by mere chance. Perhaps having been dumped in those murky waters would have been a better fate for you, when it seems that no one cares for your presence any longer.

Warnings: slut shaming, shitty inner circle (mostly Nesta and Elain), suicidal ideation

Words: ~ 4.2k

Author's Note: ahhhhh I hope you guys like this! I'm really hoping all of this makes sense lol I wrote it in one go. This idea came to me at work and you guys have already shown just the ideaaaa so much love 🫶 enjoy! I'm gonna go listen to Rosie by Rosé nowww -- let me know if you guys want a part two!

18+ only pls

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Gone.

They were gone.

You had been out at the Reeson's home, being courted by their youngest son, Geoffrey. He was very polite, and even walked you back to the manor, your arms clasped together.

If you had to choose a suitor from the village you grew up in, Geoffrey would be the one. He was kind to you and your family, even in the depths of poverty.

It wasn't until you were in the manor, the door swinging shut behind you after you had bid Geoffrey farewell, that you saw it.

The carnage.

Every single maid and butler that you family employed... Slaughtered. Your father was already away on business, having gone to the Continent to meet with the Queens about the looming threat above the wall.

And your sisters... Nesta and Elain... Were missing.

You sprinted out of the manor after checking every room for your siblings, the hem of your pink gown soaked in blood, and ran to the inn in the center of town.

Thankfully the innkeep was kind enough to rent you a room on credit while the men of the night watch removed the bodies, burying them in the village graveyard.

Only a few days later, you were back in the manor, scrubbing every tile, panel, and piece of furniture to rid them of the horrors spilled upon them.

Your sisters were still missing. You had no idea of where they could be taken, besides over the wall, into the land of the fae.

But why? That's what you couldn't understand.

Not until three months later.

Three months later, you opened the door to the manor, met face to face with your youngest sister.

"Feyre!" You exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. She was stiff in your arms, pulling away only a moment later.

Fair enough, you thought. It has been quite a while since I last had the chance to hug her, her new senses may make them less comfortable.

"I was so worried, Nesta and Elain have been missing for months and the entire household staff was- was-" you sobbed, putting your face in your hands.

"Oh, Y/N, it's alright. Nesta and Elain are alive and safe," Feyre reassured you, gentle hands holding your shoulders as the knowledge of their safety calmed you. "But..."

"But...?" You asked, worry washing over you once more.

"I... Really, you should come with me and see for yourself..." Feyre trailed off. "Come to Velaris with me?"

You nodded immediately- if that's where your other sisters are and where Feyre is going, of course you would go. "Take me to them, please."

In the next moment, you were whipping through the fabric of reality, landing in a cozy sitting room.

Nesta and Elain were seated on the couch next to each other, Elain gazing out the window with a dazed look, and Nesta reading a novel of some kind, before her eyes snapped up to see the two of you.

Her eyes narrowed at you, filled with a silvery fire and so much hatred that you could hardly breathe-

Not human.

Fae.

Your other two sisters... are fae.

You blinked in confusion, looking to Feyre for answers.

"Nesta and Elain were... They were taken by Hybern and changed using the Cauldron, Y/N," Feyre whispered into your mind as she guided you out of the sitting room and into a kitchen, and you flinched at the sensation.

"I don't understand, Fey. What... When did all of this happen? What happened?"

Feyre sighed as she sat you at the dining table and began preparing tea. "The war that we warned you about the last time we visited? It happened... And the people we fought against used Nesta and Elain to prove the power of the Cauldron to the Mortal Queens by giving them the gift of being fae. And over the past three months, we fought long, arduous battles- but we prevailed. Elain and Nesta killed their vile king together after-" Feyre paused. "After he killed father."

Your eyes went wide and the world seemed to come to a stopping point-

"Father is-" a choked sob cut you off, tears streaming down your face. "He's dead?"

Feyre nodded, and you collapsed onto the table, sobbing.

You knew that your sisters didn't care much for your father- always saw him as a failure after losing the family's fortune. But you? You had loved him completely, clinging to the one parent that you had the blessing to know. You were so young when your mother passed, not even six years old when illness took her. You hadn't remembered much of the life of luxury the family used to lead, and were content to live in the small hut on the edge of the village, tending to your little herb garden and cooking the meals after Elain had taught you.

And so, you hadn't had the feelings of resentment that your elder sisters had towards him, instead loving each wooden carving your father would make you every year for your birthday.

They even made it into the manor, resting on your bedside table in your room.

And... And now he's dead? Just like that?

You had no idea how much time had passed when Feyre's hand smoothed over your upper back, a small gesture of comfort.

"Let me show you to your room, Y/N," Feyre said gently, her strong arms peeling you off of the table and into an upright position.

You blinked your watery eyes at her and nodded, and let your sister lead you upstairs and into a small bedroom, decorated in pale blues.

You didn't even have the energy to change out of your dress before you collapsed onto the bed into a crying heap, curling in on yourself as you mourned for the father you would never get to see again, never get to say goodbye to.

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The next few months were... Trying, to say the least.

You felt out of place.

At all times. In any setting. Even just sitting with Feyre, you felt like you didn't belong.

It's not that you didn't try to fit in.

You joined Feyre for physical training. There, you felt like you were holding her back- no, you knew you were holding her back. After all, you're only a human.

You brought Elain tea and food at regular intervals, trying to keep her strength up as she stared out the window, lost in her thoughts. You knew she could talk, she just... chose not to with you. That's fine, after all, you can't relate to her situation much. She most likely wants a more understanding ear.

You attempted to talk with Nesta, even sit in the same space at her. But with each time you tried, her fiery gaze grew more and more intense, until you felt she may actually burn you alive with the powers Feyre had informed you she now possessed.

It's not that the inner circle wasn't kind to you, or that they mocked you for your human-ness.

It's that at every moment, you felt different.

When you had your first cycle while living amongst fae, you had went about it as normal. Until breakfast that morning.

Nesta had been glaring at you particularly strongly that morning, until she finally broke. "Why don't you take your iron-scented self upstairs until we finish eating, hmm? I'd rather not feel ill while having breakfast," she snipped at you, her eyes widening in delight when you blushed profusely.

You had excused yourself immediately.

Feyre had explained it away later, telling you that feelings are amplified when you're turned fae.

Nesta never was too fond of you, as she had always blamed you for your mother's death and the subsequent loss of the family fortune. She thought that having you just under a year after having Feyre was what made her body susceptible to the diseases and illnesses running rampant in the village that fateful year.

It's not as though I chose to be born so soon...

Worse even than knowing that everyone around you could smell when your cycle hit... was their hearing.

You had... a small crush on Cassian, to say the least.

It had all started when he was kind to you one day at training, having taken over for Feyre while she was away for court business. He corrected your form gently, giving pointers for how to protect yourself better from blows.

Each gentle touch made your heart race, and the kind praise he gave you made your face flush.

It's not that you wanted to like him.

You couldn't help it.

He was so handsome and kind, and could always find a way to make you laugh, or at least smile. And he chose to talk to you, which was more than you could say for the rest of the inner circle.

On the first Winter Solstice you spent in Velaris, Feyre came into your room before breakfast.

"I wanted to talk to you..." Feyre started gently, sitting down on your bed next to you while you braided your hair.

"About what?" You asked, tying off the braid and turning to face your sister.

"Cassian."

Your cheeks heated in an instant, pulse quickening just at the mention of his name. "What about him?"

"I know that... I know you have a crush, Y/N, but you need to let it go," Feyre said softly, a careful hand placed on your arm.

"I- so what if I like him? It's not like I'm acting on it-"

"That's not what it's about, Y/N, it's that he and Nesta are mates," Feyre explained.

Mates?

"Oh, I-" you paused, a renewed sense of heat filling your face. "I don't even really like him like that, Fey, I just... I can't help how I react around him," you whispered, hoping beyond hope that no one else was listening in.

"Just try, okay? It's for the best, really, Y/N. Fae and humans aren't really... Meant to be," Feyre said, eyes looking away from you.

Oh. Of course. You're just a little human, of course a fae wouldn't be interested in you...

So you did. You did your absolute best to get over your reactions to Cassian, to stuff any possible feelings down, down, down.

Nothing was enough, though. Not even knowing that Cassian and Nesta were gone for an entire week, consummating the mating bond.

When they returned, you were sitting in the living room of the River House, staring into the fire and drinking a cup of tea.

That was the one activity you did that bothered no one.

But the moment you saw Cassian's handsome face, a soft smile on it thrown your way, your heartbeat picked up, color rushing to your cheeks.

Nesta heard it- of course Nesta would pick out its traitorous rhythm, her eyes narrowing at you, hands raised, silver flames spouting from them, pointed at you-

"Nesta," Cassian sighed, grabbing your sister by the forearms and pulling her attention to him. "Nesta, my love, only you matter to me. Pay her no mind," Cassian soothed, and the flames Nesta had conjured went out, though the fire in her eyes burned hotter than ever as she glared at you.

"Stay away from him, you little whore," Nesta hissed at you before pulling Cassian out of the room and into the kitchen, where the rest of your family was gathered.

You simply pulled your legs up onto the couch in front of you, wrapping your arms around them as you went back to gazing into the fire.

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The Spring Equinox came and went, bringing with it the return of Lucien, Elain's mate and Feyre's dear friend.

You were like a ghost these days, drifting down hallways with no destination in mind, just the desire to not bother anyone further.

You excused yourself from all family dinners beyond those you were expected to attend around holidays, thinking it would be easier to bear than the constant feeling of not belonging.

It wasn't.

But it was preferable to the burning weight of Nesta's hatred, and Elain's new distaste for you.

Training with Feyre had stopped months ago, her schedule becoming more hectic as she let Rhys pass some of the burdens of ruling off to her shoulders.

That was fine. You just wanted Feyre to succeed.

So you drifted around aimlessly, sometimes leaving the River House to walk along the Sidra and gaze longingly at couples in tea houses, or meandering through bookstores, running your fingers along the spines and wishing you could read one.

You found yourself back in front of the fireplace on a particularly warm spring day, sipping a cup of tea once again. You would have preferred to take it outside, but Elain was out tending her garden, and you didn't want to bother the one bit of peace she seemed to have.

Not that she was alone, anyways, but your presence always seemed to grate on people's nerves, making them less comfortable.

Lucien was out with her, offering to help her garden as he did every day he stopped by. By now he might have already presented her with whichever courting gift he had picked for her today.

Loud footsteps and then-

Lucien.

He gave you a soft smile, one that you returned.

"How are you today, Y/N?" Lucien asked, as he had taken to doing the last few visits.

"I'm well, thank you Lucien. How are you? Any luck with Elain?"

"No luck with the gardening, though today she accepted my courting gift: a bag of flower bulbs from the Day Court," Lucien said with a proud smile.

"Congratulations! Now you know what will get you into her heart," you said with a grin, truly happy for the male in front of you. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Thank you, Y/N, I would love one," Lucien replied, summoning a cup of his own and letting you pour out a helping of the lovely floral blend you had made into it. "I hope she will be open to pursuing the mating bond, or at the very least being friends..." He sighed. "What do you think?"

You blinked at him, surprised. "Me?"

"Yes, you," Lucien said playfully. "You are my mate's sister after all."

"Oh, well... I don't... We don't really talk much anymore," you explained. "I'm sorry."

Lucien merely shook his head at your apology. "No, don't apologize, Y/N, I was just hoping you may have more insight than I do. But enough about me, what have you been up to recently?"

"Oh, not much," you replied, wracking your brain for any activities you had done recently to not seem more useless than you already are. "I, uhm... I tried out a new soup recipe a few days ago, everyone seemed to like it..."

"Really? What kind?" Lucien asked, and you could almost believe that he was interested.

"It was a creamy soup, with sausage, potatoes, and-"

"What are you doing?!" Elain hissed, a pair of pruning shears pointed in your direction. "First you go after Nesta's mate, and now mine?" She seethed, stalking towards the two of you. Elain walked past Lucien and held the shears up to your face. "Get out, you whore. Stay away from my mate!"

You were up in an instant, flying up the stairs and into your bedroom. You locked the door behind you, but you knew that if Elain wanted to get in, she could.

She would probably cut my head off with the shears...

You grabbed a spare blanket off of the chair in your room, as well as a pillow from your bed and made your way into the bathroom, where you curled into yourself in the bathtub.

No reason to make more of a mess when she does decide to kill you...

🤍💔🤍💔🤍

Seven months.

Seven months and no one noticed that you had completely withdrawn, only leaving your bedroom when you absolutely had to.

No longer did you attempt to cook dinner for the inner circle. Not that they had ever liked what you made anyways...

No longer did you take your walks along the Sidra.

No longer did you sit in front of the fireplace, sipping tea and taking up as little space as possible.

But Bounty Day was coming up. The one holiday that you had cared was nearly here, and you wanted to celebrate it the way your family never had.

You wanted to roast a turkey and a boar, mash potatoes and sauté green beans. You wanted to try your hand at the delicious cheese and pasta dish Feyre adored from Sevenda's. You wanted to bake and bake and bake, until there was one of everyone's favorite desserts available.

You just needed permission. Which was why you were standing outside of Feyre's study door, hand poised to knock.

"Come in, Y/N," Feyre said from inside, loud enough that even your ears could hear her.

You peeked in sheepishly, eyes landing on where Feyre's hand was gliding across a sheet of paper, writing something out.

"Is this a bad time?" You asked quietly, wondering if you should have just stayed in your room.

Feyre sighed, and set down her quill. "No, not at all. Come in, sit, Y/N."

You did as she said, taking a seat in the low backed leather chair in front of her desk. "I... I wanted to run an idea by you...?"

"What kind of idea?" Feyre asked wearily.

"Well... Bounty Day is coming up, I thought... I thought it would be nice for all of us to celebrate. As a family."

Feyre blinked at you, her eyes losing some of their clarity for a few seconds, a look that you knew meant she was conversing with her mate. "I suppose that would be doable, Y/N, I'll make sure everyone knows. We would only be able to have it at the House of Wind, though, there's a few things that need to be done around here before we host a holiday."

A spark of hope lit up in your chest. "That would be perfect, Fey!"

Feyre smiled at you. "You can have Nuala and Cerridwen help you purchase everything, and with any preparation or cooking if you'd like."

"That would be very helpful, I'll make sure to ask them for their help and input."

"Good, I'm glad that that's settled. Did you need anything else from me?" Feyre had already picked her quill up again, continuing whatever thought you had stopped her in before.

"Oh, no. I'll be fine, thank you Feyre."

You felt... Dismissed. But at least you have permission to celebrate the day.

Over the next week, you worked tirelessly to get the ingredients you needed, even asking the meat vendors for a fae-palate worthy recipe.

You were sure your old recipes would be no good... Each one you had made for the inner circle was met with thinly veiled disgust.

And Sevenda's recipe- you were so thankful that the other female had taken pity on you and given you a copy of her recipe after you promised to share it with no one, ever.

Cerridwen had helped you read each recipe, both of you making sure that you knew the recipes by heart so you wouldn't have to rely on the mess of letters that you were no closer to understanding than you were before your family's status had changed.

Slowly but surely, you were putting together a feast that would put the one you had two years ago in the mortal lands to shame.

As you had hoped, you made a favorite dessert of each inner circle member, nine in total. You just hope that they don't go uneaten, or with only a small slice out of each one...

You woke at dawn that morning, pulling yourself into the bath and getting clean before you donned a cream colored dress, cut in the current human fashion. You had yet to wear a piece of Night Court fashion, feeling much more comfortable covered up, hidden.

Nuala shadow-walked you up to the House, a change of clothes in the bag over your shoulder. She only left when you insisted that you had the cooking covered and that you would be fine.

All day, you worked to bring Bounty Day to life around you, the delicious smells of roasting meats filling the House.

You hadn't felt so at peace in... A long while. Before your sisters were taken. Perhaps even before Feyre was taken...

Afternoon came and went in a blur of basting the turkey and turning the boar roast over the fire, your body flushed from the blazing heat as you worked.

As the final hour rolled around, you were able to change into your formal dress, a calf length pale pink wrap dress with long sleeves. You had picked this dress out months ago with Feyre, when she had insisted you needed to buy clothing of your own, and find things that you liked. This one, you liked. It was your favorite color, and the fabric was buttery soft under your fingers. You pulled on some slippers in a matching color and made your way back to the main hall, where you set the table meticulously, making sure everything was in its correct place.

Now for the most difficult part, in your opinion: transferring everything to the dining table without it cooling off too quickly.

You moved the food as fast as you were able, the turkey and boar left in the kitchen until the last moment, when you would have one of the males carve them for you.

Six o'clock rolled around, the time Feyre had agreed to, and no one had arrived. You poured yourself a small glass of wine and took a seat at the table, slowly sipping your drink as you waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The food was lukewarm now, at seven.

The anxiety pooling in your gut had you back in the kitchen, carving meat from bone until your hands were sore.

Still, no one had arrived when you brought the platters of meat onto the table, a feast laid out with no one to eat it.

At eight, you were exhausted. Exhausted from working yourself more than you had in months. Exhausted from hoping, only for those hopes to be extinguished so quickly. Exhausted from living in a place you don't belong.

You sighed and pushed yourself out of your chair. On tired legs, you made your way to the front door of the House.

No way in hell would you be accused of trying to steal someone's mate again, accused of lying in wait all night to seduce Cassian if you were to stay in one of the guest rooms.

So the ten thousand steps down was your only choice.

The first thousand was easy enough, though the wind had chilled you to the bone already, the night's icy fingers extending around your heart as well.

By the time you were halfway down, you sobbed with each step.

How? How could they have all forgotten? Even Feyre...

On numbed legs, you finished your descent. But where to now...?

The only place you could belong was the River House... The only place in Prythian that you could ever belong, as a human.

You sniffled and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, attempting to keep any amount of warmth in your body as you carefully walked across the icy path along the Sidra.

The wind was bitter here too, but you had the babble of water to keep you company, the most pleasant friend you had.

The River House came in to view, lit up from within with bursts of faelight. The chimney let out pleasant puffs of smoke, a clear sign people are inside.

You stopped in your tracks.

Past Elain's garden and through the back window of the River House, you could see them.

All of them.

They were sat around the dining table, eating and drinking merrily together, enjoying each other's company.

And then there was you. Half-frozen from the weather and completely iced over inside.

You don't belong here.

Your body turned on its own, your mind so wrapped in itself that you hardly noticed where you were going.

All you knew was you needed out.

Out of this city.

Out of this life you were forced into.

Out of this family.

You need out.

Your feet carried you to the edge of Velaris, the exit of the city that lead to the wilds of the Night Court.

You don't belong in Prythian. You belong in the human lands.

The boundary of Velaris passed under your feet as you continued walking, hardly feeling anything at all now.

Your fingers were numb, as were your toes and bottoms of your feet. Your arms were nearing the same sensation.

Good.

Perhaps the numbness that had overtaken your heart would consume the rest of you.

The only person left who cared, doesn't care now.

You don't care, not anymore.

general taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao

ILIPW taglist: @darkbloodsly

[wasitforrevenge]

new romantics

pairing: MODERN AU!college azriel x female reader

warnings: may be some triggering content including tampon is a douchbag at a party, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of sexual activity but nothing major, smut books mentioned (hehehe) a fight occurs but can you blame him? he’s just defending your honor ugh, two idiots in love who want nothing but each other and can’t admit it, no use of y/n, imagine her as you, because it is YOU! half editted… ill get to it later i promise

word count: 4.5k

summary: your new study partner is better than you first realize… and now you can’t stop thinking about him, but he can’t stop thinking of you either.

authors note: hi first time writing for acotor! been a fan of these books for a while and my baby azriel does something to me!!! so here’s something i spent the night writing it was 10 different things before it was this lol! pls like, reblog and comment! thank you everyone for reading! photo credit to pinterest, and please i strive to do better so any thoughts pls free feel to let me know! thank you for the support! this is the first time i’ve had the energy to write in months so pls dont go too hard

you met azriel in a greek mythology lecture that you both ended up in during the second semester of your sophomore year. getting partnered with an incredibly built and handsome man for a history report your teacher assigned was the least of your problems when you realized how fucking kind and beautiful azriel is on the inside and out.

the real problem came when you realized how hard you were falling for this man when you started hanging out casually, hitting the coffee stand before class or getting food after a long day. you learned so much about him in a matter of months and couldn’t get him out of your head.

you never spoke existence to your feelings for him, mainly because you didn’t want to ruin a very good potential friendship but partly because you didn’t think you were good enough for someone like him. you’ve heard little whispers about his other… activities and you couldn’t help the way it made you feel.

at the start of your junior year, you and azriel were practically best friends and it just felt so natural. the way you two were together. the way your conversations flowed and the way the silence was never deafening when you were together. you spent time cuddling on the couch in your living room watching movies and rating tv shows and going to visit parks around town and getting high as fuck. once time you had even gone crazy and took some acid and spent hours at the aquarium watching all the fish. you studied for classes together, the one you shared and the ones you both took on your own.

you and azriel were always testing out new recipes in his large kitchen. its wonderful that he lives alone. alone as in by himself but you cannot glance over the fact that the rhysand and feyre along with cassian and nesta live on the same floor of this apartment building close to campus. you luckly only live 2 floors down, a thing you realized when you managed to see him in the elevator about a week or two after you first started studying together.

you were debating all summer about confessing your feelings to him but could not gather the courage to bring yourself to admit it to him and face rejection. you couldn’t mess up the relationship between you already. he was your best friend and you really didn’t have too many besides him. you’ve met his family and have spend a lot of time with them, they’re all practically adopted you at the point, they welcomed you with smiles and open arms (besides amren but they told you she’s always like that.)

but a couple weeks into the semester, you and nesta were standing in a kitchen of a person you don’t know debating on what shitty cheap alcohol you’ll be indulging in tonight. it was the first big back to school party and it was still hot as hell out so you were dressed in dark denim shorts and nice tank top along with your black converse.

you and nesta instantly clicked when you met. bonding over smutty books and all the tv shows you managed to watch. she’s felt like your first real girl-friend ever, you guys got some comfortable together and every time you guys hung out, it felt like no time had passed. it was refreshing to have someone to talk to. she also happens to be the only one who knows about the feelings you harbor for your other best friend.

as you’re about to pour the tequila into your red solo cup, you hear someone call nesta’s name and she tells you she’ll be right back before scurrying off to whichever of her friends was calling her. leaving you there alone not knowing anyone at the party, nesta told you the rest of the group was going to meet you there but you have yet to see any of them as you turn your head around the room.

as you fill your cup and turn to put the bottle back down on the counter, you feel a hand glide around your waist and are suddenly aware of a man extremely too close your liking. “hey baby” he said as he slurred his words, clearly intoxicated, by the way he looked and smelled. it sent more warnings through your head even after he grabbed you like that. you had to leave, this couldn’t happen. thoughts are rushing through your head. you move your hand to push his arm off you as you turn around to be face to face with a tall blonde with long hair.

“what was that for?” he drags out as he tried to put his hand back on you. you instantly tried to move towards the way nesta went and told him, “please get off!” but he was too fast and held your upper arm in a death grip before he tugged you closer to his chest, his other hand back on your waist like the first time he did it. your eyes close in fear as he leans down to whisper something in your ear, but he’s gone in an instant.

it all happened so fast. all you see is a large, muscular, tattooed arm flying in front of you, hitting the man who was on you just seconds ago. you watched shocked as you finally lock in to the situation before you.

azriel beating the shit out of the man who had just laid his hands on you.

azriel swung his fist again towards him, hitting him square in the jaw, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he screamed at him, having another punch already landing with his other fist.

the man doesn’t respond before he swings back at azriel and managed to get a decent swing in, the hit landed to his lip but azriel doesn’t move at all. he’s standing still in the spot, continuing to tower over him.

azriel shoved the man back into the counter and landed a powerful hook right to his nose simultaneously. he cried out as it made contact, “fuck dude c’mon,” he reached up to grab it, blood pouring from his broken nose and busted lip. he steps closer as he removes his hand looking at the red liquid that has held onto his skin, ready to defend himself against the beautiful man that your eyes cannot stray from.

but azriel is faster and before he could even blink, managed to grab a hold of his shirt and pull him up to where his toes barely touched the floor. his hands fall at his sides and his eyes widen in fear as azriel gets closer to his face, leaning down to whisper something in his ear that you can’t hear over the loud music, people partying and the screaming and crying in your heart as you watched this all unfold.

suddenly azriel is tossing the man back into the counter and he barely managed to grab it and hold on, azriel suddenly grows larger, as if he could get any bigger, and leans to spit out the blood that had collected in his mouth behind him. and suddenly your attention is focused on the warmth now englufing your wrist. your eyes immediately register the sight of him standing in front of you, this was warm and right, his hands on you. it just felt so right.

his other hand reached out and gently lifts your chin to meet his gaze. the way the sense of safety coursed through you with his simple touch just confirmed, yet again, that this was going to be so hard for you to tell him.

“hey baby…” he spoke softly, his eyes darted between both yours. his attention solely on you. he let his finger rub against your cheek as he finished, “are you okay?” you can’t help the feeling the shoots through you at the use of the pet name and the look of shock that painted your face. not knowing if it came from, whether it was from what unfolded in front of you at this party or the fact he still holding your face and talking to you like this, so sweetly.

you blinked a couple times and the realization hit you that you’ve just been standing there, staring into his beautiful eyes. not paying attention to the group of people that crowded around as the fight was happening or the looks you guys are getting from other party goers that still surrounded you. the only thing you can stand to focus on his gaze.

azriel.

“i don’t know,” you almost whisper towards him, feeling his warmth covering you both. before you can talk again, he moves his scarred hand from your wrist, you feel almost… empty at the loss of contact but that doesn’t last long as he slipped his hand into yours and intertwined his fingers with yours as he guided you towards the front door.

you passed by so many people, you tried not to pay attention to all the looks you were getting. girls stared as they realized it wasn’t themselves in azriel’s grasp, but you. it was your hand he was holding. your heart beat at just the thought of it, your nerves were already shot as the events unfolded not even 10 minutes ago and this did not help one bit.

your eyes manage to catch nesta’s in the crowd, her eyes widen as she takes in the sight before her, azriel holding your hand and leading you out of the party. oblivious to what actually happened to cause this, she gave you a huge smile and two thumbs up. you cant help but silently chuckle at your friend despite the other overwhelming feelings you have. you’ll explain the situation later when you text her but you were sure eventually she’d hear what happened.

he leads you out the front door and looks back at you with a small smile as you trail behind him. he walked you over, without a word and hands still intertwined and you finally notice your next to his old beat up mustang on the side of the street, the one that smells like him and the faint smell of weed that always lingers regardless of the last time he smoked in there.

he opened the car door for you and you released your hand from his and got into the passengers seat. once you were in, he reached over and buckled your seatbelt for you, giving it a tug to make sure it was connected before smiling down at you from outside the car. he shut the door satisfied and walked around the back of the car to open his own door and sat inside.

the silence is comfortable. it always has been, you pray that sometimes it’s awkward or uncomfortable but it never is. you sit in your seat, eyes staring down towards the hand he had been holding, almost in disbelief, that he defended you like that. you’ve never seen azriel angry like that either. he turns to face you, wanting you to meet his eyes.

azriel walked in the front door of the party, after having a pretty day. the customers at the restaurant he works truly sucked today. small tips and even shittier people. all he wanted to do was smoke off some steam and get drunk with cassian and rhys. he knew you were going to be here. cassian mentioned it in passing while talking about nesta so he was also on the look out for you. the girl who managed to catch his heart after having been partnered together. azriel couldn’t help the way he felt about you even though it almost felt wrong to him.

he didn’t want to take advantage of you, he knew you were shy and never really been in a relationship. he found that out when he walked into the kitchen of cassian and nesta’s apartment, and overheard nesta telling cass all about you after her and you hung out for the first time outside the group. so he just tried to ignore his feelings but regardless of that fact you were his bestfriend. he just couldn’t escape you.

and when he walked into that kitchen to see tamlin standing over you, your arm tight in his grip, the way your eyes were slammed shut trying to back away from him. he didn’t even think. he was there pulling him off you before he could even recognize what he was doing. throwing punches left and right towards the man who dared touched you. he barely even registered the hit he managed on no one but him can put his hands on you. he’s had that thought before but never brought life to it, but here? now?

all thoughts of guilt for feeling that way vanished. there was no way he was letting anyone touch you. but him. that’s all he wanted. he wanted you in a way he didn’t think was reciprocated. love was a funny thing to him, something he was never accustomed to until after he met rhysand and cassian.

his family never showed it, he lives with the constant knowledge of that every time he looks down at his hands. he thought about the way you never judged him of them, like it was nothing at all to you but that was everything to him.

the one sided crush he harbored on mor for a couple years was nothing in comparison to the way he felt about you. his few flings he had over the past couple years (after he realized it was pointless liking mor, also… because she slept with cassian) were mildly of convince and of urge but once he met you, he knew he was a goner.

he stopped the girls. the stopped the meaningless flirting and hooks up and took to just pleasuring himself to the thought as you, as shitty as it made him felt after. sometimes he just couldn’t look you in the eye the next time he saw you but you never said anything. you never commented on it and he silently thanked you in his head.

but right now, after he pulled you out of the party, scarred hand in yours, he needed you to look him in the eyes. but you still hadn’t and he couldn’t just keep staring at the face of the beautiful woman in front of him while it was coated with anxiety and exhaustion.

azriel lifted his distorted hand to your face meeting the soft warm skin that was your own. he gently brought your face to meet his gaze and as you locked eyes, the spark hit you yet again.

gods he was breathtaking. dark hair that covered to above his ears, the eyes that seemed to stare into yours every single time they met, the tattoos that covered him and his golden brown skin that you swore shined outright during different points in the day. your heart cannot handle this man.

“please,” he practically whispered you barely even registered that he said it before he continued, “are you okay, what can i do?” the sound in his voice felt desperate as his eyes bore into yours, the feel of his hand on her face, you couldn’t help but lean into his grasp and close your eyes, taking in the feel of him. you responded a moment later after letting out a sigh and looking at him again.

“can we just go home? i just want to sleep” you asked him with a pleading tone as you feel his thumb rub against your cheek for the second time that night. ugh the things this man does to you. all you wanted was for him to hold you, to feel the press of his body against yours. anything to get the feeling of someone else off you. “yeah baby, we can.” he said gently before he moved his hand down to yours and gave you a light squeeze before he turned the car on and shifted into gear, pulling off in the direction of home.

once you arrived back to the apartment building, he parked in the lot next to the front door and moved around the car to open your door, he gave you his hand as you stepped out. he went to put his hand at your lower back as he opened the door for you but decided against just in case that was a lot for you right now. he did not want to make it worse. he could see the fear in your eyes back there, no way would he subject you to that if you weren’t comfortable with it. so instead he just followed behind you, hitting the button to the elevator to take you up to your floor.

the elevator luckily isn’t taking forever today so when it opens, you and azriel step in and he goes to hit the floor for your apartment but your hand reaches out and stops him. “can we go to yours please?” your head moves up to meet his gaze but his eyes are focused on where your hand is on his wrist. a second later his eyes meet yours and he gives you a small nod and hits the button for the fifth floor. you remove your hand and lean against the wall right next to him, his hand reaches out and entangles his bumpy fingers with yours.

“is this okay?” he asks you. you can barely hold it in after that, the tears finally fall. he feels the sudden change in your body as he moves closer to you but removing his hand from yours in fear that you didn’t want to touch him. but in reality that’s all you want. you want him to touch you. you want him to love you. you want everything with him. its all just so overwhelming, everything that has happened.

he goes to speak but before he can get a word out, your body is on his engulfing him in a hug around his long torso, he instantly wraps his arms around your smaller frame. he can feel your body shake with tears and all he wants to do is make sure that no one ever makes you feel like this again. you deserve so much better, he only wishes he could be better for you too. you squeeze him tighter and he just holds you until the elevator door opens and you pull away from him. mascara and tears running down your face, you can see it on his shirt. he smiles at you before he pulls his hands to your face and wipes your cheeks off with his rough yet soft hands.

you cant help the laugh that escapes you as he wipes his hands on the t-shirt staining it even more with the leftover residue on your face. he gives you a chuckle before connected your hands yet again, walking with you out of the elevator to his one bedroom apartment. he fishes in his pocket with his other hand and pulls out his keys. he unlocked the door and held it open for you to walk in.

your senses are taken over by the smell of him. the smell of his candle lingered from the coffee table covered with textbooks in the large living room, he has a basket of blankets he keeps in the corner because he knows you get cold watching tv. he has a big L shaped couch which had a 60 inch tv across the room, with a boatload of dvds underneath. something you both agreed was a dying art. you and azriel swear physical media will make a comeback one day but you guys will never forget how they ruined it!

his space was a lot bigger since you have a two bedroom apartment. but it was perfect for him. azriel had loved the way he made his space his own, his bass guitars set up in the corner next to his collection of vinyl records and a record player that rhys and cassian got him when he turned 21… as well as a shit ton of booze. he had a bookshelf that held his favorites, as well as your own.

he bought a copy of almost every book you talked about so that he was in the loop with what you were reading. even the ones you didn’t talk about that he caught on your nightstand or in your reading nook. when he bought one of those and read it, his jaw dropped. he immediately thought of nesta and her smutty books but this sent something else though his body. he couldn’t help but keep reading… he wondered if you thought about him while reading these scenes of them ravishing each other, in every way imaginable. he sure did! his right hand hates him!

and you definitely did to… thought about him in ways that you shouldn’t. thinking about him doing all those things to you. the way you knew he would take care of you. the way you knew you could take care of him, despite how inexperienced you are. the thoughts drove you crazy. it was practically all day and every day at this point. thinking about the way his hands would feel running up your thighs or the way his lips would feel on yours.

now here you are, standing in his living room, just wanting all that and little did you know… he did too.

“hey az…” you uttered towards him. he was already next to you as you spoke, “can we lay down please?” your voice was barely a whisper.

he didn’t even need to speak, he just brought you to his room. he lead you to sit on the corner of the bed as he turned and riffled through his dresser, pulling out a large dark green shirt and handing it to you with a smile, “change into this, i’ll be right back.”

“can i take a shower?” you asked azriel shyly. “yes of course, one sec.” you watched as he walked out the room and shut the door behind him. you took your shoes off and placed them by the bedroom door next to azriel’s shoes. he came back in a second later with a fresh towel and a water bottle.

“here you go, you already know where the shower is,” he says with a small chuckle. you give him a grateful smile and a thank you as you took the items from his hands and gave him one last look before heading into his connecting bathroom.

you turned on the hot water and you stripped out of your clothes and threw them into the laundry hamper in the corner of the bathroom. you got in the shower and felt instantly better. the way the water followed hot you could feel the touch of the man from the party washing away, only to be replaced with thoughts of azriel touching you instead. you reviled in it.

you washed your hair and body with his shampoo, conditioner and body wash. silently thanking him for not using 3-in-1 (nesta found out that’s what cassian used and flipped shit) you finished your shower and dried off with the towel he gave you.

you put on his t-shirt that made its way down to your mid thigh when it was on completely. you loved when you were covered in him. you walked back out into the room and didn’t see azriel so you took your seat at the edge of the bed and waiting for him to come back. you sat there and picked at your nails, feeling so wore out you didn’t even want to cry anymore.

azriel came in two minutes later, dressed him long flannel pajama pants and you can see the band of his underwear peeking out as he gets closer to you. he changed after you went into the bathroom, and then went to the kitchen to make sure he was stocked up on the tea you liked and the snacks you guys enjoy together, just in case you got hungry.

he ran around his living room and cleaned random odds and ends. putting dishes in the sink, folding the blankets thrown on the couch and organizing his cd collection. anything to busy himself instead of thinking of you in his shower. anything to get his mind off the amazing woman just in the other room. he hears the shower turn off and waited a few more moments before heading back into the room.

he moved the covers down to make room for you as he said, “after you princess,” with a smile on his face. you returned it and stood up to make your way to the bed but not before turning to hug him again. his arms wrapped around you as you mumbled “thank you azriel,” into his chest. you hold on for a few moments before releasing him. he looks at you before motioning to the bed, “i would do anything for you, you know that.” you felt your cheeks grow red at the thought, at the knowledge that he would.

you climb into the bed and laid your head on the pillow, turning to look at azriel, you wondered why he was still standing. “az are you coming?” you said bashfully. he blinked and bent down to the bed to be eye level with you. “i’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight.” you could feel the way your face dropped in disappointment as you registered what he said. he saw it too and felt it deep in his chest.

he stood up and was about to say goodnight but you beat him to it, “azriel please i need you.”

you could feel how desperate you sounded but you didn’t care. you just needed him. next to you right now. he said nothing else as he moved the blankets again, but this time he was under them. he didn’t hesitate to pull you into his chest, your hand found it’s way over his fast beating heart and his tattooed arm wrapping around you. the warmth and scent of him took over everything in your body. you finally felt safe. your legs tangled together as you eventually fell asleep to the rise and fall of his chest.

“i need you too.” he said to a room with no one awake but him to hear.

part 2??? i would love to write one! let me know what you think! i’d love to keep writing for acotor so yay! pls enjoy :) i’m on the edge of my seat writing this hehe

[kayjaywrites]

Like Bugs in a Rug: Chapter Two

(Previous Chapter)

Summary: Azriel Shadowsinger, mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, was head over heels in love with you for years. Everyone in the room could see it, except for you of course. A series of connected one-shots.

Chapter Word Count: 7,500 Chapter Song Inspo: Obey - Bring Me The Horizon

Chapter Content Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst kinda, eventual fluff, anxiety/panic attack, vomit (nothing graphic), Rhysand being an ass, Nesta x Reader friendship, Rhysand slander lol,  AFAB Reader, Reader (You), fluff, some details about Reader's appearance but overall vague, canon plot spoilers as this is canon compliant-ish Note: So is this fluff? Debatable. But there is still plenty of Az fluff in it, you just got to work for it a little more this time. You don’t need to read the first chapter to understand what’s going on here, but they are connected!

XxXx

Your 3rd year in Velaris....

It took almost three years of employment with the Inner Circle for you to personally encounter the ‘Night Triumphant’ persona. You were not impressed. The most serious you’d seen your cousin was ‘High Lord Rhysand’, the fierce leader, but even that was limited to political business outside of Velaris. More so than not, it was just Rhys, your fun loving, sarcastic friend who so happened to wield an enormous amount of power. 

The male sitting at his work desk was not your ‘Rhys’. Hell this wasn’t even High Lord Rhysand. The Night Triumphant held eye contact with you, gaze calculated and stern. You studied the authority in his expression, his mouth drawn into a tight line. Staring him down right back, you waited for the facade to break and reveal the male you had come to know as family. You searched his face for the guy who would rather face Amarantha again than put you in such a precarious situation. The very situation that plagued you with consistent nightmares since you left Hewn City.

You did not find that male.

Your gaze flitted to Mor, her body draped in a leather armchair off to the side, hoping to find a trace of humor in her expression. She tried to look nonchalant, but there was a sharp edge to her that betrayed her own trepidation.

Nesta stood an arm’s length away from you, uncharacteristically quiet in the wake of your High Lord’s orders. She seemed as if she was waiting to see who would escalate things first. Rhysand had summoned the three of you to his office to brief everyone on an upcoming…obligation. He prefaced the meeting by saying that he knew it wasn’t an ideal assignment. He wasn’t asking if you wanted to do it, it was non negotiable. 

In two months time, you, Nesta, and Mor would be answering a summons to Hewn City. Kier had been requesting a personal audience with you for the last year. Mor and Rhysand could no longer postpone it, as you were a Night Court Courtier afterall.

Still, you did not want to believe that Rhys would ask this of you. “You’re kidding, right? This isn’t very funny, Rhysand.”

“I know you can tell that I am not joking.” His flinty tone brook no argument.

Any hope of reasoning with the Night Triumphant withered away. He summoned you to his office well aware that you wouldn’t take kindly to being sent back. Here you’d been thinking Rhysand understood your trauma best, having been held captive and used while Under the Mountain. 

It appeared that you had misjudged him.

Just as you were about to say as much, Mor spoke up for the first time since the meeting started. “Kier threatened mutiny at the last Council meeting. At first he demanded a private audience, even after I informed him of our bargain. When we still refused to send you by yourself despite his threats, he agreed on these terms. You and Nesta because you’re a team, and me because I oversee The Court of Nightmares anyway. He couldn’t argue with that logic.”

You felt like you were going to be sick. After 300 years of being nothing but a tool for your father, the idea of seeing Kier’s face again so soon had your lunch sitting heavy in your stomach. It was inevitable, he thought you were loyal to him, his spy on the inside. You had zero idea how you were going to handle a reunion with him, simply thinking about it made you short of breath.

Your nights were plagued with stress dreams about what it would be like to return to your old home. You avoided stewing on the topic during your waking hours. The inevitability of it all often sent you spiraling, you couldn’t ghost Kier forever, but you thought you had more time. There was no fucking way you were ready. “I can’t do this,” You said, “give me any other assignment, and I’ll do it. Just not this.”

“You can,” Rhysand enunciated each word, slow and deliberate, like he wasn’t sure you would understand him, “and you will.” 

Oh hell no. You did not uproot your entire life to be spoken to like that. “Do not speak to me like a child, Rhysand–”

“Then stop acting like one,” he scolded, like you were the one being unreasonable, “this is your duty to your court, what I pay you to do. If you won’t do what needs to be done to protect your court then we don’t have a place for you here.”

Rhysand’s words hit like a blow. Your sharp intake of breath was echoed by both Nesta and Mor, but you couldn’t see them, they might as well have not been there, your world shrinking down to Rhysand as he regarded you coldly.

“So what will it be?” He addressed you, leaning forward over his desk, leering, “will you do as your High Lord asks of you, or will you be resigning today?” He pressured.

Your hands fisted, ire rising up so fast it made your eyes sting with unshed tears. If you got kicked out of Velaris you’d undoubtedly end up back in Hewn City. And you couldn’t let that happen, not after you finally got a taste of freedom.

Rhysand may like to believe himself better than Kier, but how was this any different from how Kier treated you? Was this your destiny? Undeserving of kindness unless you proved your worth? 

What about you made people forget that you were a living, breathing being? Just like everyone else in the room, you had feelings that mattered, and hopes for your future. You’d been stripped of your freewill for the first three centuries of your life. It was a wonder that you hadn’t gone mad.

Were you only allowed a taste of freedom? Was that Rhysand’s plan all along? Get you hooked on life in Velaris then dangle it in front of you like you were a simple mule, your freedom the carrot held just out of reach.

It made your blood boil.

“My apologies.” You sneered at him, gone was the meek, conditioned wallflower. You meant all the disrespect. In a dramatic flourish you bowed low to Rhysand, making sure he saw your contempt for him when he met your gaze.

 You maintained direct eye contact as you hissed harsh sarcasm at him, “I am at your disposal, High Lord.”

Rhysand’s eyes flared with something dark and aggressive. Time slowed, a pulse of his power cresting over you in a suffocating wave, a preview of how oppressive he could make it if he so wished. Dread replaced your anger, the confidence you’d displayed moments ago dissipating. You struggled to not show how he had shaken you, and by some miracle, you stood your ground. Still, he could probably hear your heart pounding from where he sat.

Amidst the theatrics, your own power had not been so keen on backing down. It had coiled around you like a viper ready to strike, protective, as Rhysand’s prowling darkness prodded your boundaries. 

This version of Rhysand left you stricken, unable to reconcile the egregious behavior with the male you’d had breakfast with just that morning. It felt like his power was tearing you in half, and he wasn’t even exerting himself. He looked bored.

Did you escape the clutches of one villain, only to run into the hands of another? Were you really that foolish?

Mor stepped into your field of vision, mouthing something at you. You hadn’t realized your ears were ringing until the shrill noise faded enough for you to hear her calling your name. The frantic quality of her voice snapped you out of whatever daze Rhysand’s power had cast on you.

Right. Nesta and Mor had witnessed that entire thing. You’d forgotten about their presence in the heat of the moment, your attention tunnel visioned on Rhysand. He had humiliated you in front of some of the most important people in your life. The only thing that could have made it worse was if Azriel had been there too.

Intense embarrassment flooded you, a seed of distrust taking root deep in your heart. You felt so stupid, thinking you could trust Rhysand and his Inner Circle. Mor was still trying to get your attention, but you stared right past her, looking at Rhysand like you hated him.

Hell. Maybe you did.

Mor called your name once more with urgency, moving closer to you, half turned so she hadn’t given her back to her High Lord, but solely focused on you. “It’s the best we could do without inciting a civil war.” She tried to clarify, emphasizing on the ‘we’ as she gestured between herself and Rhysand. 

“You have to know we wouldn’t put you in this position if we had any other choice. I personally promised I would never leave you alone in that city again, and there is nothing our father can say or do to make me break that promise to you. We will do this together.”

Rhysand’s power had receded, but you could still feel it loitering like a watchdog. Something you’d never imagined Rhys doing to you before the meeting. He’d always spun such pretty promises about your future in Velaris, and you believed him.

And now Mor was doing the same exact thing. More pretty promises, but no proof of her intentions to follow through with them. 

Mor’s shoulders visibly sagged, “If you don’t believe me, then look.” She pleaded, offering her mind up for you to read.

You physically recoiled at her suggestion. “I will do no such thing!” You spat back in disgust, “You are my sister, this is supposed to be my family. I will not taint our relationship with my powers in a moment of weakness. You may not return the same respect, but I refuse to surround myself with people I can’t trust without rummaging around their mind for their truths first.”

Unlike some males went unsaid as you fumbled to tone it down for Mor. Your problem was not with her, and she didn’t deserve your harsh words. “I can’t…I won’t….I–”

Frustrated with yourself, you took a steadying breath, emotion burning behind your eyes. Despite your best effort to keep composed, your voice quivered, “I will not be like our father.”

The room was stunned silent, Mor regarded you with sadness, lips parting to respond, but then pursing closed in a tight line.

Rhysand was the one to break the silence. His power dispersed as he leaned back in his chair, acting like he hadn’t just wound you up tight enough to fracture you into pieces.

“So you accept the assignment then?” He inquired, brushing nonexistent lint from the cuff of his dress shirt.

His lack of remorse irked you. Did he not think he could have handled the situation better? Was this how he treated everyone in the Inner Circle? The list of things you wanted clarification on kept growing, so instead you settled on, “Yes.” 

“I’m glad we could come to an agreement then.” He drawled, “We will go over details and strategy another time, when we are all more composed.”

You wanted to punch him in his goddamn face.

“For now, this meeting is dismissed.”

As soon as he finished speaking you stormed out of his office, nearly colliding with Nesta in your haste to get away from Rhysand. Originally you were going to visit the library after the meeting. Nesta had suggested a book for you to read, and you wanted to read it so you had something to talk to her about. But you were too worked up to do that now, you needed to get out of there. 

You didn’t care where you ended up, so long as you put as much distance between you and Rhysand as possible.

XxXx

By step 174 your blurry vision cleared a smidge, too out of breath to cry for the moment. You didn’t have anyone to help you leave The House of Wind, so you took to the 10,000 stairs with the expectation of someone eventually coming to find you. There was no way in hell you’d actually be able to reach the bottom. You began the descent down the spiraling staircase so fast It was a marvel that you didn’t trip.

Any time you slowed down Rhysand’s words would play on loop in your head. The only way to drown it out was to pick up the pace, the exertion elevating your heart rate enough for it to overpower that nasty voice in the back of your head. If you ran fast enough the only thing you could concentrate on was counting the steps you took.

239 steps down, and you had no choice but to slow down to a more reasonable pace. It was a warm day, and you were getting dizzy. The last thing you wanted to do was pass out. In a desperate attempt to keep your mind occupied as you caught your breath you focused on the breeze cooling the sweat beading up on your forehead. You listened to the slap of your bare feet on the smooth, sun-warmed stone. You thought of the color of the sandals you left behind at the very top of the stairs. You pondered on which step you’d discarded your blouse on after it began to cling to your sweaty skin.

Your guess was step 148.

You hit the first landing platform at step 250, slowing to a walk as you panted, hands propped against your hips as you counted your next few steps. Woozy, you let your eyes fall closed for a moment, but the image of Kier sitting in his throne room beckoning you forward flashed across your mind. You flinched so hard you accidentally opened your eyes looking directly into the sun.

It felt like your head had a heartbeat of its own, vision blotching from the brightness. You didn’t know how your day could get any more bleak as you rapidly blinked the disorienting dots away. Glimpses of The Court of Nightmares throne room lurking behind every blink, Kier looked more like Rhysand each time you closed your eyes.

It made your stomach lurch, and you whimpered around a dry heave.

A particularly strong gust of wind ruffled through your hair, and you can almost hear Azriel’s voice reminding you to focus on your other senses. Your mind can lie to you, but it’s much harder for all your senses to be tricked at the same time.

The sunlight, the ever-present wind, the sound of birds, the smell of fresh air. Let nature ground you. 

It just wasn’t enough. You’d only paused for a few moments, but your chest began to feel too tight for your lungs, anxiety squeezing the air out of you before you could properly inhale it. Two months. Just two measly months to figure out what the hell you were going to say to Kier–to your mom, after you’d gone no contact for almost 3 years. Two months to not be petrified of somehow getting trapped down there again.

So you continued down the stairs, pushing yourself harder. 

251. 252. 253. Counting them like Azriel had taught you.

It had been after your first dinner with the Inner Circle at the House of Wind. Mor was a little too tipsy to winnow home safely, so the both of you decided it best to share a guest room. You were feeling antsy, Mor having fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The House of Wind was so different from Hewn City. Cozy and surprisingly casual in decor, but it was carved out of the side of a mountain. With the curtains drawn, in the dark quiet of the night, it almost felt like your bedroom in The Court of Nightmares.

You had thought a glass of water would do you some good, help you settle enough to get some rest. So you set out for the kitchen, taking care to walk quietly so as to not wake anyone. The hallway led to a flight of stairs, which brought you to more hallways that seemed to stretch on, and on, and on. The homey decor fell away, your balance wobbling with the sudden onset of vertigo. Closing your eyes didn’t help, dizzy and disoriented, everything felt like it was tipped on its axis. You couldn’t place where you were, where you were going, just that you were alone. Fear flooded your senses, and you swore you smelled the dank air of the streets of Hewn City like you were still there.

Azriel found you slumped against the wall on shaky legs, your pulse pounding so hard in your ears you couldn’t hear what he was saying to you. The touch of his rough hands on your bare arms was soothing enough to bring you back to yourself. You weren’t walking the streets of Hewn City. You weren’t alone. Azriel had you.

Each inhale had still felt like you were gulping in freezing cold water, your breath coming in irregular gasps. You thought you were going to die in that hallway, suffocating on fucking air.

Azriel took you to the training grounds on the rooftop of all places. You can still remember the brightness of the full moon that night as he coached you through breathing exercises. Then, coaxed you into walking laps with him around the perimeter of the huge training grounds. He counted each step aloud with you until you had calmed enough to tell him what the hell had happened.

And that was how you and the Shadowsinger bonded over Claustrophobia. An unfortunate thing to have in common, an even more unfortunate first thing to find you had in common.

In the moments after you’d come down from your panic attack you wanted to svirel up and fade away, so thoroughly embarrassed. But now, you thanked The Mother for sending Azriel to find you that night.

It was those same coping skills that led you to working out your anxiety after the meeting. 290 steps away from The House of Wind, and you were sure your legs were going to give out if you kept pushing yourself. You came to a slow stop, soles of both your feet planted on the same stair. Lulling your head back so your face was to the cloudless sky, you closed your eyes and pictured that moment with Azriel. Instead of Kier morphing into Rhysand, you saw Azriel walking laps with you around the moonlit training grounds.

You basked in the breeze against your face, your anger and fear still roiling in your stomach, but no longer all consuming. The relief was short lived, a concentrated pang of despair reared its ugly head, raw hurt so overwhelming it chased the warm memories with Azriel away. It made you so tired, so emotionally drained you felt it in the marrow of your bones. You wanted to just let go, collapse in a heap and never get up again.

Yet, by some stroke of willpower, you remained on your feet. You hadn’t warmed up before taking on the stairs, and you could already feel soreness settling into your muscles. Gingerly you sat yourself down on the steps, resting your elbows on your thighs as you rubbed your hands over your face, spreading fresh tears across the top of your cheeks.

If you won’t do what needs to be done to protect your court then we don’t have a place for you here. Rhysand’s words burned the part of you that had always suspected as much. There was this nasty little voice that lived in the back of your head. It would mock you when you were too content in calling this place home.

You wondered if that voice would start to sound like Rhysand.

The thought broke your heart a little bit more. You wanted so badly to make him proud, to earn your place in the Inner Circle, prove that they hadn’t made a mistake taking you in. The worst part was that you thought you were doing good. Not that you’d believed yourself to be one of them, you were still so new, but you thought…you thought…

You don’t know what you fucking thought.

Curling into yourself, your knees tucked in close to your chest, you made yourself as small as possible. The full body trembling made your sobs shaky, your entire being wobbled from the weight of your failure, your naivety. This was what you got for wanting to do it the right way. You’d never built relationships without relying on your powers to sniff out their loyalty beforehand, never truly trusted on your own violation.

Your father always thought it was a stupid risk to take when you could know for sure. You thought it was an awfully lonely way to live, to never trust fully. Perhaps you’d been wrong.

This was what you get, you silly girl. Kier’s voice taunted from the back of your mind. Or was that Rhysand’s voice? Did the difference even matter anymore? 

The telltale sound of approaching footsteps closed in on you from behind, you couldn’t tell who it was, all you could smell was the salt of your own tears. Maybe it was one of them coming to take you out of your misery, maybe Rhysand took your display in his office as a sign of disloyalty.

The killing blow never came, so you glanced up to see Nesta taking a seat next to you. The last person you expected to come looking for you if you were being honest.

She didn’t look at you right away, which you appreciated. You were humiliated enough without her seeing you wiping your own snot on your forearm. Her icy stare was focused on the view, the only indication that she had run to catch up with you, a few fly away hairs having been jostled loose from her braids.

“You were pretty hard to catch up to, you know,” She leaned back, supporting her weight on her hands against the step behind her, “for someone who doesn’t regularly train, at least.”

Her attempt at humor, which earlier in the day would have made you indignant, fell flat. Instead inciting a new wave of tears to fall past your lash line. You dropped your head lower to hide it from her, but it did little to smother the sound of your quivering breath.

She didn’t try again, and her presence grew awkward when you didn’t try either, but she stayed next to you regardless.

When it became apparent that she would stay by your side unless you sent her away, you found your words. “What if I can’t do it,” You croaked out, voice absolutely wrecked, “Face my father, return underground? What if I can’t do what’s expected of me? What if it’s too much, too soon? What if I lose everything because I’m not strong enough.” Will never be strong enough.

“Then we will figure it out,” Nesta answered without hesitation, “Together.”

You are alone. That damned voice insisted.

“But Rhysand said–”

“I know what Rhysand said.” Nesta hissed, and you startled, your bloodshot eyes meeting hers for the first time since she arrived. She looked pissed, lips pursed in a scowl as if the High Lord was right in front of her. “Rhysand is an insensitive jackass. He won’t send you away because you messed up one job.”

“How can you know that?” You whispered, already knowing that she couldn’t know for sure. 

“Because I’ve pissed him off by doing far worse, and I’m still here.”

You shook your head at her reasoning, not good enough, she can’t know for sure. “You're his mate’s sister, and Cassian’s mate. He can’t exile you.”

“And you're The Morrigan’s sister, and his own cousin.” Nesta deadpanned. “You’re not going to get exiled over a visit to The Court of Nightmares.”

“How can you possibly know that?!” You shouted, one of your hands clutching the fabric of your sweat soaked chest binding as your heart ached. Frantic to believe her, but knowing that you just couldn’t.

“Because Rhysand hates me, we barely tolerate each other on good days. He once threatened to banish me to the human continent,” she rebuked, hands flying about as she grew impassioned, “He loves you. He’s just an overpowered ass on a power trip. You questioned his authority and it hurt his fragile little ego. And even if he was stupid enough to try to cast you out, the rest of the Inner Circle would never let that happen.”

Your nerves were fucking shot. Whatever remained of your bravado frayed with every hagrid breath, it was impossible to stay focused. It was like your powers were waiting for you to be distracted, taking the opportunity to thrash against your mental shields. You didn’t know if it was skill keeping your powers in check, or dumb luck.

Your headache spread across your temples, sharp pain panging behind your eyes. You were already so tired, but the tears would not stop coming. That damned voice, still whispering its poison, adding to the agony. Nesta can’t know for sure, but you could if you just gave in.

You looked Nesta over, her relaxed body language at odds with the determined fire in her eyes. She left herself wide open, she wouldn’t even know if you read her. You’d be in control, your fate wouldn’t be left up to a gamble.

Nesta tried to meet your gaze, and you squeezed your eyes shut, turning away from her. It was impossible for you to think with her piercing stare studying you. What reason did Nesta even have to care about what happened to you? She didn’t say shit while Rhysand was ripping your world apart, and yet she showed up here? To do what exactly?

There was a dull ringing in your ears as your power surged against your restraint, and maybe you screamed, maybe you didn’t. Your fingers went up into your hair, fisting at your roots as you pulled, rocking yourself back and forth because it would be so easy.

And maybe if you gave in, that stupid voice would stop.

Nesta called your name, “I wouldn’t let Rhysand kick you out of Velaris.”

The cry you let out sounded almost feral. “I don’t know that!” .

“No, you don’t,” Nesta acquiesced, “but do you trust me?”

Did you trust Nesta? The question cut you into you like the edge of a knife, your heart answering with a resounding yes.

Wow, did you want that to be true. But that sinister voice oozed like an oil slick in the back of your head. Will you do as your High Lord asks of you, or will you be resigning today? You had trusted Rhysand too.

Even if Nesta wanted you here, did you think she would disobey her High Lord for you? You didn’t know, not for sure. Your power reared up again, and your head pounded at the onslaught. That oily voice so loud it was all you could hear. You could know.

“I-I don’t know.” You stammered, stomach churning into grotesque knots.

“Do you trust yourself?” Nesta continued her line of questioning.

That answer came to you quick, no, and it had you lurching forward, your balance lost as you scraped your knees sliding down a couple stairs. You wretched, violent heaves as your stomach emptied out on the stairs in front of you.

No. You didn’t trust yourself.

“There was a time where I didn’t trust myself either.” It was like you weren’t barfing up your guts right in front of her, Nesta spoke with such calm. “Didn’t let anyone close enough to trust, even myself, I didn’t know how.”

You wretched again, your hair getting in the way. Gentle fingers gathered the stray pieces that had fallen from your updo. You hadn’t heard her move over to you, but she was there, steadying you as you struggled through a bout of dry heaving. If you weren’t so miserable, the tenderness coming from Nesta would have shocked the hell out of you.

Her free hand rubbed soothing circles into your back as she continued her tale. “I hated myself,” Nesta confided, voice raspy with emotion, “so much that I drank myself stupid every night to escape the darkness of my own thoughts.”

Now, the random heart to heart did shock you.

Three years of trying to connect with the enigma that was Nesta Archeon. Three years of getting redirected when you asked something too deep. The most you got out of Nesta was what she liked to read, so you picked up reading just to have a reason to approach her outside of assignments. Three years of one sided heart to hearts, evaded personal questions, and turned down sleepover invitations.

And she decided that now was the proper time to trauma dump on you? While you were half dressed, ugly crying with vomit in your hair?

What a baffling female. The confusion helped you relax, so surprised you were by Nesta’s sudden urge to share. Her hand kept a slow, steady rhythm as she continued to rub gentle circles onto your back, you hadn’t realized how tensed you’d been until muscles you didn’t even know you had started going lax. 

Whatever Nesta was doing, it was working. So you basked in the comfort her touch provided and listened.

“Someone taught me how to acknowledge those thoughts and let them go. To breathe, and still everything else in my mind, and let my mind think those things, but to not dwell, because that dark self loathing didn’t define me.”

The dark self loathing didn’t define you. Her words chipped at something that had been left festering for far too long. Had that been it all along, that terrible voice in the back of your head, had it been self loathing?

“Give yourself permission to feel, acknowledge it, and let it go.”

And it was so liberating, giving a name to what had been festering under your skin. Hate. Disgust. Cowardice. You cried, but not the agonized, tortured type of wails that had crippled you moments ago. This was a release, the type of ugly cry you do when something you didn’t know was broken starts to heal.

You hated yourself. And that was okay, because as you waited for that awful voice to mock you, it never did. You hated yourself, wept so hard you thought your eyes were going to fall out of your skull, but you had never felt lighter.

Nesta found your hand, gentle at first as if giving you time to pull away. Then she held onto you like the simple touch could convey what you were worth to her. “You are the rock against which the surf crashes. Nothing can break you.” She whispered, but the words resonated like she had shouted them at you.

The smile started as a small twitch at the corners of your mouth, but you knew Nesta saw it all the same. You searched for that dreadful voice, waited for it to speak something dreadful, but the quip never came. The smile that bloomed on your cheeks was wide with astonish.

You couldn’t believe it, after 300+ years of letting that nasty voice ruin you, there was peace. In its place was something new and bright.

Hope.

XxXx

The sound of beating wings announced the arrival of Cassian and Azriel a moment before the weight of their landing sent vibrations through the hard stone of the staircase. The two hulking Illyrian warriors made quick work of the walk up the stairs, their casual conversation trailing off once they were within earshot of you and Nesta.

“Ness!” Cassian’s voice boomed in greeting, cheery and boisterous, “I see why you asked for me to bring Azriel now. Here I thought you were acting on your ‘secret’ fantasies finally. The location left something to be desired, but I wasn’t going to be picky.”

Nesta sat shoulder to shoulder with you, so close, you felt her stiffen at Cassian’s offbeat comment. If you weren’t so drained, you’d be cross with her for summoning more witnesses, but the idea of having to walk back up all those steps upset you far more. The adrenaline high from your anxiety had long worn off, and without its numbing effect, you weren’t sure if you could even stand without your legs wobbling.

Nesta sighed, deep and long suffering, but affectionate nonetheless. “Your inability to read the room will always astound me.”

“Good thing we’re outside, there is no–” Cassian’s breath hitched, now close enough to get a good look at your downcast expression, haggard appearance, and odd attire. You were careful to keep your emotions under control, unwilling to let anyone in the Inner Circle see you in such a vulnerable state. Years of cautious composer, wasted, all because of a meeting that lasted less than 30 minutes. You expected disapproval, your emotions had only been met with ridicule in the past, but the apparent emotions flying across Cassian’s face were anything but cold.

Worry. Guilt. Unease. Cassian’s emotions were so boldly displayed, you didn’t need your powers to disconcert them.

Cassian paused in his ascent as he looked you over for injury, but Azriel closed the distance in the time it took you to blind away the tingle of the latest round of tears. Their concern was almost palatable, and being shown that type of care felt too good to be real. 

These males had no reason to care so much, Nesta had no tangible reason to care so much. You were so… you, so replaceable and plain. You breathed through the thought, let it roll over you, maybe that was why they cared so much, because you are you. It had never occurred to you that you were someone worth caring for. Not when your own father never cared. Certainly not after Rhysand gave you the ultimatum to get useful or get out.

You are the rock against which the surf crashes. Nothing can break you. Nesta’s words repeated in your head, sending a zing of determination down your spine. 

“What happened? Are you hurt?” Azriel crouched down, his chest siphon reflecting the late afternoon sun. His questions made you feel queasy, but his presence soothed over you like a balm. This male simultaneously was the person you worried about disappointing most, and the person you felt most safe being vulnerable around.

Unlike with Nesta, you didn’t struggle with facing Azriel. He was inspecting the grime covered scrapes on your bare toes. “Where are your shoes?” He asked you, puzzled as he then took note of your sweat soaked bra, “and your shirt?”

A dark look passed over him, if his shadows could withstand the direct sunlight, you were sure they’d be writhing around you. He spoke your name like a whispered prayer, desperate. His gloved hands hesitated as he reached out to cup your face, only smoothing his thumbs over your cheeks when you didn’t jerk away, “please look at me,” and you did, meeting his amber eyes as he wiped remnant tear stains from your cheeks, “Did someone try to hurt you?”

You knew what he meant, but your explanation caught in your throat. A brief moment of shame overwhelmed you, because here you were blubbering over some harsh words from your High Lord, when people suffered far worse fates than your own every day. Azriel began to tense, an icy cold rage taking form as he mistook your silence as an affirmative.

You shook your head ‘no’, hating the troubling turmoil you had unintentionally sowed in him. His shoulders sagged, the sign of his relief so slight, many would have missed it. It was all it took for the remaining threads of your thin composure to snap.

Azriel all but scooped you into his arms as tears blurred your vision, and you crumbled into him, no further prompting needed. He held you so tight, it was like he was trying to hold all your pieces together for you. His wings flared to keep his balance, and maybe later you’d feel sheepish about almost tipping him backwards down those unforgiving stairs, but you relished in the comfort his strength brought you.

“I-I was–It was–” You couldn’t string the sentence together, “We were…I was–” you tried again but your breathing was off, your thoughts all jumbled, and Blessed Mother, you couldn’t do it again. Any words you’d thought about trying to say morphed into sobs, barely audible, but you couldn’t hide the way your body shook with them.

“Rhysand happened.” Nesta asserted, sparing what was left of your dignity by cutting off your senseless stuttering. She summarized the meeting, but touched on the major points that had triggered your anxiety. She was gentle with the recollection of your part in the meeting, scathingly critical of Rhysand. 

“When I left Rhysand’s office, The Morrigan was getting in his face, and as much as I would have loved to see how that went down, it felt wrong to not check in with you.” Nesta explained like she was coming clean, “ I asked the house where you were.”

It was about as close to an apology you’d ever get from Nesta. You knew from experience that Nesta took her time warming to people, preferring to mind her business and stay out of Inner Circle drama. Once she’d made an offhand comment about being the center of the drama enough to last her the rest of her fae lifetime.

Keeping your head rested on Azriel’s shoulder, you turned your face to the side so your voice was less muffled, “Thank you,” your words carried on the wind, paper thin, frail, but so heartfelt, “for following me.”

Nesta didn’t respond, and you didn’t dare look at her out of fear of getting weepy again. But you felt it all the same, a shift in the relationship between the two of you. Like a bridge branching out, a new understanding solidified in place, and you knew Nesta had felt it too.

You shifted in Azriel’s arms, intending on testing your strength, but his arms tensed to keep you in place. In one graceful movement that had your head spinning, Azriel stood up right, adjusting to support your weight in a bridal hold.

“How about we get you home and clean you up?” Azriel suggested, loud enough for the others to hear, but the question aimed at you.

Home. As in the apartment you shared with Mor. He had called Velaris your home.

Your heart gave a painful throb, all choked up again at the sentiment. Going home sounded like the most splendid thing in the whole world in that moment. You didn’t want to think about Rhysand or Hewn City anymore, you wanted to go home so much it hurt.

There was some rustling, Cassian coming to stand near Nesta. “Wanna race me back up to the house?” His words were muffled as if his lips were pressed into the crown of Nesta’s head. “Winner gets head.”

The swift resounding slap Cassian received almost made things seem normal.

“Are you two good?” Nesta ignored Cassian’s taunting, and you nodded at the same time Azriel responded with, “Yes, I’ve got her.”

A beat passed in silence, all four of you waiting to see if anyone added anything else. Then rapid footsteps took off up the stairs, and you popped your head up from the crook near Azriel’s underarm to see Nesta sprinting up the stairs.

“Hey!” Cassian bellowed, charging after her, “cheaters never prosper, Nesta!”

“Prove it, you overgrown bat!”

If you weren’t about ready to pass out from exhaustion, you would have laughed at their antics. Azriel was watching them, an unguarded fondness in his hazel eyes you rarely got to see. The two of you stayed like that, Azriel watching his friends, you committing his soft expression to memory. By the time Azriel glanced down to you, Cassian had overtaken Nesta’s lead, their figures dots in the distance.

You were a melted puddle of female in his arms, all tension and stress slipping from your muscles as your eyelids drooped. Try as you might, you couldn’t keep your eyes open for another second. Paranoia nagged at you, fear of what you’d see when you finally rested your eyes.

Nothing. Blissful darkness. Peace.

“I’m going to take off now. Loop your arms around my neck and hold on tight, okay? Once we get up high enough, the rest of the flight will be smooth.”

You did as you were told, any other time you would have been a nervous wreck, but you didn’t have it in you to fret. You’d always winnowed with someone, even learning how to land the drop through the wards when Mor winnowed with you to the House of Wind. You’d thought no one had noticed how you avoided the topic, but surprise surprise, Azriel had noticed.

The thought of being up that high in the sky and dropped sure made your pulse spike. Growing up in an Underground City meant your feet were always planted on the ground. So maybe it wasn’t a stretch to claim that you weren’t a fan of heights, you’d never flown with anyone before, but it would make a lot of damn sense.

Your musing was cut short. Azriel launched straight up into the sky, powerful wings effortlessly gaining momentum and speed. You clung to him, hands clasped together around his neck in a death grip, screaming bloody murder the entire ascend. Although you would deny it if anyone asked.

Things evened out once Azriel felt he was high enough, setting a leisure pace towards what you assumed to be the direction of Mor’s apartment. Your eyes were squeezed shut, wind whipping your hair out of what was left of your updo, tossing it across your face.

You must have been quite the sight, if the amusement in Azriel’s voice was any indication. “Are you going to look at the view?”

Your hair was a disheveled mess across your face, the wind burned your already sore eyes when you tried to pry them open. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t keep my eyes open,” It was probably beautiful, but you didn’t want to push your luck, you’d had enough panic attacks for the day, “Luckily, I don’t want to.”

He chuckled. “Next time then.”

Blame it on the fatigue, but you found yourself nodding in agreement. Something you may come to regret when he urges you to fly with him instead of winnowing the next time you travel together.

But maybe it won’t be so bad, if Azriel was the one carrying you. With your eyes closed, ear pressed to his chest, his steady heartbeat lulled the residual tension and anxiety away until all you felt was the security of his arms. You could almost forget that you were hundreds of feet off the ground.

In Azriel’s care, it was easy to relax, he wouldn’t let anything bad happen. It was in that half dozing state, snuggled up as close as you could get to him, that your sleepy mind realized moments like these were the ones you wanted to remember.

Ultimately, Rhysand’s nasty words were a small part of your day. The majority of your time was spent with Nesta, bonding with her in a way you’d never managed previously. Something that would have never happened if Rhysand hadn’t been a dick.

Yeah. You’d much rather remember the day as the Nesta heart-to-heart incident. Or the first time you flew with Azriel.

Drifting into a deeper sleep, you dreamt of the way Cassian’s laughter echoed with joy as he chased after Nesta up the stairs. You dreamt of soaring through the clouds with Azriel, the same fondness you’d seen in his eyes for Cassian and Nesta, but aimed at you.

It may take you the rest of your life, but you would replace all the trauma muddying up your memories with new memories you wanted to remember. New memories filled with laughter, affection, trust, and adventure.

One day at a time. 

Rhysand could go pound sand though.

XxXx

Previous Chapter / Bonus: Chapter 2.5 / Next Chapter (coming soon)

A/N: Don't worry the next part is going to be more like the first chapter. There will be like two more chapters sprinkled in that have a more serious tone, but the rest will be fluff, drama, and tomfoolery a plenty. Stay tuned for cheeky Cassian in the next update!!

Tag List: @f4iry-bell @jediknightjana @microwaveallthedemons @olive-main

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @5onedirection5

@brieflyclassymortal @hauntedstudentobservationus

[danikamariewrites]

hii!! I was wondering if u could write a fic with azriel and one of the spies he trains, kind of like arobynn and aelin but not creepy lol. azriel always protects reader yet when rhys notices the special treatment in his court, he grows distant. angst ensues!! possibly smut whatever youre feeling!

My Sweet Spy

Azriel x reader

Notes: I hope you don’t mind that it’s in bullet form anon! I can’t believe I haven’t thought of something like this before, I did change it a little and made them fall in love (so not rlly a master and apprentice thing) I also don’t know the word count for this but know it’s a lot.

Warnings: angst, enemies to friends to lovers, fighting and violence, blood (apologies for any typos I sped through editing this)

Your father was one of Azriel’s senior spies. At 100 years old you were still acting like a petulant child, driving your father mad. Being at his wits end he dropped you off in Velaris for training with Azriel. It was more of a punishment than anything

He wanted the high lord and spymaster to set you straight

During one of your father’s more high profile missions he was attacked and didn’t survive

His death made you resent Azriel for a long time

You didn’t come to training on time or at all some days, you wouldn’t speak for almost a year, and you acted out so bad (during Nesta’s stint at the bars as well) you and Nesta were separated and it was time for an intervention

While Nesta stayed at the House of Wind you stayed in the Town House

You still refused to speak with anyone, especially Azriel, but you pulled yourself together

Though your father was a hard-ass you loved him dearly. He was the only person you had left in the world

Realizing you couldn’t blame Azriel or Rhysand for his death you started putting in the effort of training and being a better person. If anything you were really at training for Nesta. You missed your friend and she was the only person you would talk to. Meeting Gwyn and Emerie at training made you light up. You hadn’t had many friends as an adult so this group of girls excited you.

You still wouldn’t speak to Azriel. At least not in depth. You would acknowledge him, giving him nods and the occasional yes and no. Azriel tried so hard to get you to open up. He apologized about your father’s death and even went as far as buying you a box of your favorite pastries, but nothing.

Months after Nyx was born and Nesta, Gwyn, & Emerie won the Blood Rite you were starting to warm up to everyone. You even spoke to Azriel, “Thank you.” Azriel was taken aback by how quietly you approached him, even his shadows were unaware of you. “You’re welcome.” He didn’t ask for what. Azriel had a feeling that those two words encompassed everything from putting up with you to housing and training you.

You started going to family dinners and get togethers more. While you still didn’t talk much you were showing more emotion.

You were on time for training and showed improvement. To Azriel’s surprise you were more skilled than he thought. When he reported your progress to Rhys he seemed to take interest in your skills. “Maybe her father taught her more tricks of the trade than we thought.” Azriel didn’t like what Rhys’s tone was suggesting.

Azriel tensed, waiting for the order he knew was coming. Rhys gave his brother a look he knew all too well. Then the dreaded words left his mouth, “I want you to build her up. Y/n’s father was a valuable asset, we need that again.” Azriel clenched his jaw. Doing his best to bite his tongue to think about his words.

The Spymaster knew this was an order from his High Lord, not a suggestion from his brother.

So Azriel began your training. You became more observant, an extension of Azriel’s shadows. His own shadows took a liking to you. Becoming their second master on missions, they protected you.

The only missions Azriel would take you on would be a year after your training started. And they would never be solo trips. You would go with him or another partner on short missions. You were never far from Velaris and if need be Azriel could come get you if you were in danger.

There was definitely a few tense nights where you two spent the night at an inn. You two never knew how to approach each other, never wanting to say the wrong thing to one another.

Your first solo mission was given to you by Rhys. The High Lord went over his brother’s head assigning you this. “I believe you are ready to do this y/n. You have shown change and a tenacity I haven’t seen since Feyre under the mountain.”

The high praise from Rhys made your heart soar. The fact that your change was noticed made you feel like life was going well. That there was a place for you.

“Thank you, Rhysand.” You bow your head slightly. “Azriel has trained you well, and you’ve done excellent work over the last few months.” Rhys slides a file across his desk to you. Opening it he informs you that you’ll be traveling to just outside Vallahan. A male who was once on Kier’s council defected and has been on the run for years. He has crimes to answer for and you will be delivering the High Lord’s justice.

When you didn’t show up to training Azriel went looking for you. Not being able to find you in the House he went to Rhys. “I sent her on a mission to the continent. Caliban was sighted and I thought she was the perfect person to handle it.”

Steam was coming out of Azriel’s ears. “How. Dare. You,” he gritted out. Rhys’s eyes widen at the change in his brother’s mood. Azriel was borderline erratic. “How dare you make that call!” Rhys held up a hand. “Brother, please. Calm down and think—” “Don’t tell me to cam down! Y/n has never been to the Continent! And she is far from ready to do something like this on her own!”

“Az just listen—” Azriel closed his eyes, taking deep breathes. “Where?” Rhys gave him a questioning look. “Where on the Continent id you fucking send her?” His voice was growing angrier with each word. Once Rhys told him he punched his brother square in the face and stormed out of the house.

Your father didn’t make many enemies but he had one that eluded him for years, Caliban. Once considered royalty in the Hewn City he became a fugitive of the Night Court. Now you were his target. Somehow he found out that he is your mission in Vallahan. Instead of running again he decided to face you.

Caliban made it easy for you to track him. To the point where you knew it was a trap

“You look just like your father,” was the first thing he said to you. “I suppose you’ll be just as easy to kill.” All rational thoughts left your head. You saw red as you charged at him. Azriel had taught you to used controlled emotion through your fighting technique, helping you unlearn your irrational behavior.

Diving at Caliban he swiftly side stepped you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Still a petulant child I see.” You let out growl from deep in your throat. Jumping to your feet you unsheathed the dagger from your thigh. Caliban drew his own from thin air, ready to fight.

You slashed hard, chasing every step he took with a more aggressive one of your own. If Caliban was going to kill you, you were going to make it hard for him.

If you were going to die tonight you were taking this vile murderer with you.

Letting your rage take hold your moves become erratic. Distracted. Caliban lands a blow to your gut forcing you to double over. He grabs a fist full of your hair, clutching it as tight as possible he punched your face over and over again. Once your face was drenched in blood Caliban dropped you to the ground.

You were breathing heavily through your mouth trying to regain your strength. To get back up and fight again.

Caliban circles you, sneering down at you. “Poor little spy. Going to die all alone just like her father.” He lets out a deep laugh. A burst of anger rushed through you. Holding on tight to your dagger you quickly sit up and slash at Caliban’s inner thigh.

He howls in pain and drops to the ground next to you. “You bitch!” He spits at you. You laugh, collapsing on your back.

As the edges of your vision blur all you can think about is your friends. Specifically Azriel. He has been a constant, steady presence over the last few years.

All you could think about was how ungrateful you’d been to him. All the attitude you gave him that you never apologized for. All the things you didn’t let go of and had blamed him for, like your new shitty life and your father’s death.

But your life wasn’t shitty. It was good and you had a purpose.

Your father’s murderer was going to get up and you weren’t going to fight back because you were just so, so tired. And maybe you deserved to die. But you didn’t want to die without telling Azriel everything you were thinking.

Caliban screamed in pain. Turning to face him you see your guardian angel kneeling over him. Truthteller dripping with Caliban’s blood.

Azriel was fuming. His chest moving up and down with his rapid breaths. “Azriel,” you croak out. He snaps out of his trance. “Y/n,” he slide over to you on his knees, cradling your head in his hands. “It’s ok. We’re going to take you home.”

Mor appeared over his shoulder. A relieved smile gracing her full lips. Azriel stands with you in his arms. Mor holds onto his arm winnowing you both back to the Town House. Azriel brings you right up to his old room, setting you down gently on the bed.

Mor comes back with Madja in tow. The old healer giving Azriel a look that said “I know this is your brother’s fault” as she mended your broken nose.

Azriel holds your hand the whole time, being that silent calming presence for you until Madja left

“Why didn’t you fight harder? I know you could’ve gotten up.” There was pain in his voice. A long painful silence fell between you two before you answered. “I thought maybe I deserved it.” Tears silently fall down your cheeks as Azriel lightly squeezes your hand. He felt his heart crack a little. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “For everything.”

Azriel shakes his head, his heart fully cleaving in two. “There is nothing to be sorry for y/n. Things haven’t been easy for you and I’ve seen that.” Azriel pulls you onto his lap hugging you to his chest as you sob.

Weeks later Azriel hasn’t left your side. Your words troubled him and he wants to show you that you deserve everything good in life. It was his mission to make sure you stopped punishing yourself for his past.

While Cassian gave him suggestions Azriel ignored his brother. His and Nesta’s relationship got off to a rocky start and the couple are still working their issues out.

Az decided to take a different approach with you. Some days you would take breaks from training. He would take you out to eat in the city or for a bonding activity, as Az liked to call it.

You gave him a questioning look the first time he suggested it. Then followed up with, “We do what I want everyday. Let’s do something you want to do.” You raised a brow at him. Feeling like this was a trap. But you’d take it. “Ok,” you shrugged and headed out the door.

You dragged Azriel from shop to shop to see where his limit would be for you buying extravagant items. He didn’t complain once though. Az just smiled and held a majority of the bags for you

Over the next few months you became closer with Azriel. The two of you have gotten so close you consider him one of your best friends. The spymaster quickly became your confidant. You opened up to him about things you haven’t even told Nesta.

It was your scheduled fudge night, where you each bring a different kind of fudge home, eat and gossip. Along with the occasional glass of wine. You were laughing about a story Az was telling you about Cassian in their 30’s. Rhys away with his father and the pair decided to party it up in the city without their brother. Azriel isn’t sure how he lost Cassian but when he finally found the General he was floating on his back in the Sidra.

“Just floating,” you snorted out covering your mouth. “Yes! He told me he saw a mermaid and just had to woo her.” That made you laugh even harder, leaning on his shoulder as you regained your composure. Azriel’s heart stutters at your palm lying flat against his chest. Your touch is soft and welcomed.

Az smiles down at you, watching the color of your cheeks go from that cherry red to their normal color. Your lips still pulled into a smile as you wipe the tears from your eyes. Azriel didn’t realize that he was softly smiling at you until you looked at him asking, “What?” He shook his head, “Nothing.” His voice gentle.

You brush it off going back to the chocolate peanut butter fudge Azriel brought. Taking a bite and sinking back into the cushions you ask for another embarrassing story. Azriel obliges because he could never deny you.

Another bonding activity you two cherish is painting. Like for the kids Feyre runs classes for you and Az find it therapeutic

Once a month, when there’s a free afternoon in the studio’s schedule, Feyre lets you two have a free paint session. You and Az set up easels to face each other and chat while you paint.

Your first painting session was silent except for the sound of the brushes and occasional question azriel would ask you. You only gave him one word answers of course. And the painting you made was a mess of colors. You just had to get your anger put and didn’t feel like trying. At the end of the hour you shoved it in the trash can and left without Azriel.

Today that first session felt like a lifetime ago. You were chatting with Azriel, gossiping and laughing like you’ve been friends for centuries

This time you were adding to a painting you started two months ago. You really wanted to get better at drawing and even asked Feyre to teach you the basics in your free time. Hands are a hard thing to draw but the skill came quite easy to you.

Putting the finishing touches on the shading of the sword you stand back and admire your hard work. It’s of one of the most important moments in your life, when Azriel taught you how to hold a sword. On that day you knew everything would change. There was a new trust between you and Azriel, he trusted you and believed in your abilities. It felt like the first time someone really believed in you, like your potential was truly seen.

In the painting Azriel was guiding your hand to grip the hilt correctly. The sapphire siphons looked like they were glowing and the white ribbon you cut on your fourth try was wrapped around your wrist.

“Are you finally going to let me see it?” Az asked, dragging his own brush in long strokes across the canvas. You squinted your eyes in thought, debating if you truly wanted to show him or wait for Feyre’s critique. “I guess,” you sigh.

Azriel laid down his brush and pallet, wiping his hands off with a paint cover cloth. Coming to face your painting his jaw dropped and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Azriel was rendered speechless by your skills. “Wow,” he breathed out. “Y/n…this is incredible. The detail. My scars even,” his scared hand reached out to touch the painting before he realized he shouldn’t. Instead he mindlessly moved to gently hold your hand.

The two of you stood there staring at your art for a while. You finally noticed Azriel had laced his fingers with yours. You smile at your joined hands, squeezing his before staring back at the painting.

Azriel looks down at you, that love sick smile you always seem to miss was on his face again. Just as he’s about to say something (he hoped would be romantic) Feyre came back from lunch. The bell above the door chimed causing you to jump apart.

“Wow!” She quickly made her way over to you to get a better look at your painting. “Y/n! This is fantastic! We must get it framed and hang it in the house.” The High Lady rambled on, praising your skills.

Azriel crept out as you and Feyre talked. He would talk to you again and there would be another time to tell you what was on his mind.

Missions these days were always vetted by Azriel before Rhys asked you to do anything. You haven’t been doing many lately anyway. Helping Azriel delegate, strategizing, and desk work has been your strong suit.

When Rhys noticed he called you both to his office. Azriel could tell Rhys was angry with him. He knew his brother’s tells well enough. You on the other hand just thought Rhys wanted a progress report on your skills again.

“Sit,” the High Lord said through gritted teeth. You tried to avert Rhy’s gaze while Azriel held strong, staring his brother down. Azriel would stand by his decision to keep you safe. That day he found you with Caliban scared the shit out of him. He never wanted you out there alone or without him again.

Rhys looked at you first. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been going into the field lately.” You shook your head, finally looking at your High Lord. “Care to explain.” You didn’t know what to say. Wouldn’t this be a problem between him and Az. “I—Az has been pairing me up less. I’ve been training more with the Valkyries and field work has been pushed back.”

Rhys let out a hum, his lips pulled into a thin line. “Azriel,” he directed his attention to his brother whose eyes haven’t left him once. “Why isn’t she out there? Is she not one of your spies? Is there not work to be done?” Azriel clenched his jaw. Once again biting his tongue.

“I have had y/n doing other tasks she is comfortable with.” Azriel’s voice was restrained. He saw right through Rhys’s questions and damn him. Azriel saw you were reluctant to go out after Caliban so he made a choice that would keep you safe. “Was it y/n’s choice or yours?” Before Azriel could explode on Rhys you rest a hand on his thigh for comfort. “It was my decision, Rhys. I haven’t been the best out in the field and Azriel found what I’m good at.” You look between the two of them with a small smile to diffuse the tension.

Rhys returned your smile giving you a nod. “I’m glad that you found something you like. Could you give Azriel and I a moment please.” You wordlessly get up and give Azriel’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

Once they were sure you were down the hall Rhys began his tirade. “You do not get to decide what her limits are. I know what she said just now, that was clearly to cover for you. But you cannot keep treating y/n like this.” “Like what,” Azriel spat back.

“Like she is a child! Y/n has come very far in her career, something her father would be proud of. By resigning her to desk work you tear down all the confidence she has built. You’ve kept her away from everything since Caliban. I needed her in the Hewn City and you told me no. I needed her in Autumn and Day and you shot those down too. Why?” Rhys was trying to keep his cool but there was a desperation to his questions.

Azriel stood from his chair. “She doesn’t want to be her father. Y/n is more than this.” Realization flashed in Rhys’s eyes. “Y/n has truly found something she is good at. She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met and one of your best strategists.” Without another word Azriel turned on his heel and left.

After that conversation Rhys laid off you more. He quickly realized things were more organized since you had left spying

You kept your distance from Azriel for a few days, unsure if you got him in trouble by lying to the High Lord. Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. Az just suggested a new position and you took it.

Did you work for those few days? No. You took them to rest. You haven’t taken a day off in over a year so, why not relax.

You baked cookies, something you used to do with your grandmother every week. You decided on snicker-doodles to enjoy while starting the stack of books Nesta and Emerie suggested you read.

Azriel also gave you your space. He’s been by your side for months at this point. You could use a few days without him, even though it pained him. Azriel loved spending time with you. Sure you brought chaos into his life, but it was the good kind.

On day four of being apart Azriel couldn’t take it anymore. He found you wrapped in your favorite blanket in one of the least used siting rooms in the House of Wind. A fire roaring in the hearth to keep you warm, a mug of tea next to a plate of cookies ready for you when you take a break.

Putting your book down you finally notice Az staring at you in the doorway. That love sick smile he thinks you don’t notice plastered on his face. “Hey,” you say excitedly. “Come, sit with me.” You pat the spot on the couch next to you.

He plops down next to you, curling a wing around you for extra warmth. Without a second thought you snuggle into his side. A blush dusts Azriel’s tan cheeks as he looks away from you. You giggle at the sight of the feared spymaster blushing.

You gently trace his cheek down to his jaw, taking in his beauty. Over the last year you had become very taken with Azriel. He had been there for you no matter what you threw at him. You pull Azriel’s face to look at you. You met his hazel eyes that held so much love and adoration for you, you just didn’t see it.

“Y/n I, there’s something I’ve wanted to say and I just—” Azriel cut himself off with a shake of his head, leaning in so his lips meet yours in a soft kiss you’ve been waiting months for. You kissed him back, running your fingers through his hair.

Breaking apart you give him a giddy smile. It was the most genuine look he’s seen on you since you came to them. “That was better than anything you could’ve said.” You whisper, leaning your forehead against his. Az smiled back, “I still have so much I want to say. Have to say.” “I have all the time to listen.”

[starsxblazing]

Im so happy your requests are open. Could i request azriel x reader where they're already in a relationship and reader overhears azriel mention hed like to add a 3rd person in the bedroom. Reader just shuts down and cant believe hed even think of such a thing. Shes so hurt and distant even his touch makes her wanna vomit. Maybe she breaks up with up with him while hes thinking of marrying her. And then he finds out why shes so distant and it was just a huuge huuuge misunderstanding (idk maybe she walked in at the wrong time and overheard cassian talkin about how hes gonna get azriel in a 3 way for azriels bachelor party once he asks reader to marry him.) And now hes gotta win the girl back and grovel on behalf of his stupid brother lol. angst with a happy ending.

I just want to say just how much I appreciate all of the requests with the amazing ideas that I get. I enjoy writing each one so very much!

Misunderstandings

----

You padded silently through the river house in search of your boyfriend, being sure to use every lesson of stealth that Azriel had taught you to surprise him. It had been three days since you had seen him due to Rhysand sending you out to speak with other courts. You had been told that he was here with Cassian but the bottom floor was empty so you continued on. A smile formed on your face as it usually did when you thought of him and all of the amazing years that you had been together.

It was as perfect as you thought that a relationship could be and you were happier than you ever were in your entire existence. He was the only person that you could ever imagine spending the rest of your life with. There was no way that any other male could compare to him and how well that he treated you because not a day went by that he never failed in making you feel like a queen. 

After listening through every closed door, you still came up empty handed until you were outside of Cassian’s door. His laugh could be heard, clear delight and mischief in it. Even though it was unlike you, you lingered outside of the door to listen in on the conversation that was apparently amusing.

“A threesome,” Azriel stated.

“It will be the best time of your life,” Cassian laughed. “Y/N and another girl? Can’t tell me it doesn’t sound like a blessing from the Mother.”

“I think bringing another female into our bed is exactly-”

You darted from the home as your heart dropped at what you heard. The thought of sharing your boyfriend with anyone had your stomach turning as the betrayal hit you in full force. Returning to the home that you shared with Azriel only made you feel worse and you found yourself in front of the toilet, releasing everything that was in your stomach.

Once you could muster up just enough strength, you made your way to your bed on shaky legs. Mental images of the love of your life so much as touching another female had you feeling sick again and the tears came in full force. You couldn’t stand the thought that he was still there more than likely discussing which female he should pick to present to you.

It made you feel like you were nothing and your entire relationship had been a lie. Had he had these thoughts often? Did he lust after other females and you never noticed? Had you failed to please him in bed? Had everything been for nothing? The more that you thought, the more that you cried until you were finally taken by sleep.

“Absolutely not.”

Azriel stared at Cassian, his arms crossed and jaw clenched. The last thing that he would ever want was someone else in his bed. The thought of touching another female much less anyone else touching you had his anger spiking along with his stomach twisting. 

“You really don’t want to accept my bachelor party gift?” Cassian asked, a hand on his heart as if he was offended.

“How would you feel if it was Nesta?”

“Sounds fun.”

He could only glare at his brother, unable to comprehend how the male could stand such a thing. Azriel’s jealous territorial streak shot through him that was followed by his own pain of seeing you broken hearted for simply suggesting such a thing. Even if it was something that he truly did want, he knew you wouldn’t want another female touching him and rightfully so.

“I haven’t even asked her to marry me yet,” Azriel scoffed. “She might not even say yes.”

“Are you kidding me!?” Cassian exclaimed, sitting up in his seat in disbelief. “She’s crazy about you just as much as you are with her! You’ve had that ring for weeks now. What’s up with that?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered but he knew full well that it was his own insecurities. “I need to get home. She should be home by now and it’s already getting late.”

“Yea, yea.” His brother waved a hand in dismissal as Azriel stood. “Even though I think you should stay and have more wine with me. It’s one of Rhys’s good bottles.”

“Of course it is.” Azriel rolled his eyes, making his way to the door before glancing at Cassian again. “You better not ever mention this conversation. To me or anyone else.”

With that, he left and rushed home. If there was nothing else that he loved, it was falling asleep beside you at night. The way that you always moved as close as you could get made it all the more special. He had finally gotten the one thing that he had always wanted most in life and he knew that he was blessed and he would never do anything to jeopardize it.

When he arrived home, there wasn’t a light on in the entire house which only made him frown. You usually waited for him to get home no matter how late it was and the fact that the sun had just gone down had him worried. The lightest scent of your tears hit him just as he made it to the bedroom floor, causing his stomach to drop.

He found you already in a deep sleep and his frown deepened on his face as his eyebrows furrowed when he noticed that your eyes were indeed swollen from crying. As he silently changed his clothes, his shadows became as restless as his thoughts, wondering what could have caused you such distress.  

He eased as gently as he could into the bed so that he didn’t wake you but when he went to pull you into him, you flinched and jerked upright. Even in the darkness, he could see your hateful glare before you moved as far away from him as you could get. He knew then that something was seriously wrong.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked gently, a hint of panic starting to rise in him.

You didn’t respond so he tried touching your arm and you simply jerked it out of his grasp. His heart dropped into his stomach and panic continued to rise to the point that he wanted to drop to his knees and beg you if it was needed to get answers. Instead of doing so, he let you sleep in hopes that you had simply had pent up frustrations from your mission that you weren’t ready to talk about.

You awoke early the next morning since you had gone to bed so early and was relieved that Azriel was already gone. His side of the bed was cold as it was most days of the week. Your relief soon faded when your thoughts nagged at you, making you wonder if he was out scouting the city or maybe another court for another female.

All of the trust that you had in him was completely shattered as you wondered if he had been cheating on all of the late nights that he alleged that he was on missions for Rhys. If he had a secret mistress, you thought that may be an option for him if the other female could keep it a secret. Unable to handle the disgust rolling through like a storm, you packed what you could into a bag and left the one place that had been your safe haven.

It wasn’t hard to find an empty apartment in the city and even though it was unfurnished, you didn’t care. It would be just as easy to have a mattress placed in a bedroom. Paired with enough food to get you by, it would be enough. Your only intention was to hide away from the people that you had seen as your family. It wasn’t just the betrayal of your boyfriend but also with Cassian who saw you as a brother. He was wholeheartedly encouraging Azriel to basically cheat on you. You had thought that Azriel felt the same way as you did and wouldn’t want anyone else touching you but it appeared as if you were wrong. 

After two weeks of being alone in your bare apartment, the depression had completely taken over. You missed him more than you ever thought that you would but your thoughts were always on repeat of mental images of him putting his hands on another female how he had always done you now that you were no longer his problem to deal with. 

It was late in the night and since you hardly slept anymore, you instantly noticed the piece of paper and pen that landed on the floor beside your poor excuse of a bed. You blew out a sigh of relief when you instantly noticed that it was Rhysand’s handwriting but that feeling quickly disappeared as you read the message.

“You are needed at the river house tomorrow afternoon to discuss an issue that we are having with the court.”

Having to leave the safety of your apartment would mean that you would risk seeing Azriel. What was more, going to a meeting with the Inner Circle meant that you would have to see your boyfriend. Or maybe your ex boyfriend now. It was something that you weren’t ready to face. Not ready to face the possibility that there may be a new female by his side.

Sleep never did find you that night, your anxiety too high to do anything but sob as your body shook uncontrollably while your heart pounded wildly in your chest.

Azriel came home that night to find you gone, your scent barely noticeable. It was enough to tell him that you had been gone for a while. Hoping to find some form of answers, he took two steps at the time to the bedroom only to find it vacant. Your drawers to your armoire were open and empty, the sight paired with how you had acted the night before sending his heart racing in true and utter panic. 

He instantly took to the skies, hoping to find you anywhere. Unfortunately, it was later in the night so there weren’t many people that he could inquire to about your whereabouts. He came up empty handed so before the sun could fully rise in the sky, he was at the river house in hopes that you were there. He felt as if someone would have told you if you were but there was also the chance that Rhysand could find you. 

“Please tell me you have seen her,” he begged as soon as his sleepy eyed brother opened the door.

“Who?” Rhys asked, his voice still full of sleep as he rubbed his eyes.

“Y/N!” he snapped. “I haven’t seen her since last night!”

That was enough to get the High Lord’s attention and bring him fully to the present. There was a gentle caress on his mental shield so he dropped the barrier to let the male see his memories. Rhys flinched as he pulled away but there was sympathy that he didn’t want on his friend’s face.

“Don’t panic,” the High Lord ordered in a gentle tone. “We will find her.”

“How are we going to find her when we don’t know anything!?” Azriel snapped, worry, panic, and pain lacing into every word.

“It didn’t appear as if there was a struggle and there were no unusual scents to indicate that she may have been abducted,” Rhysand mused. “Even if it was the case, she is trained well enough to handle whoever could have managed to come in.”

“But-”

“Has there been any disagreements as of late?”

“No-”

“Has she been expressing any discomfort with either of you being gone too long on missions?”

“No!” he exclaimed, frustrated because he had already come up empty handed on those thoughts as well. “Everything has been as perfect and happy as it could be!”

“We will find her,” his brother repeated gently.

Azriel’s chest began to heave at all of the horribly possible scenarios that could have happened to you. The thought of you being taken and injured hurt but what hurt him the most was the nagging suspicion that you had left him. Not only had you left him but done so when he wasn’t present and hadn’t communicated anything which was unlike you. Communication was a strong principle of a relationship for you so he must have done something irreparably wrong for you to leave him without a trace.

Unable to sit idly by and wait for Rhysand to search for you, he returned to the city. Despite the fact that he had searched all day and asked everyone he came across, it was as futile as the night before on any information about you. The pain felt as if it was eating him from the inside out while suffocating him in the process.

There were so many things that made him feel unworthy of anything but you had come along and changed that. There had been so many things that had hurt him in his life. If he lost you, it would be the one pain that he wouldn’t be capable of enduring. 

A week passed and each day was a repeat of the one before. He was sure that the citizens of Velaris were sick of him asking about you, especially when he was doing his best to be discreet. At the end of each day, he found himself curled up in the bed that he used to share with you to release the tears that he did his best to keep locked away until he was alone. His appetite had completely disappeared and he was unable to even force himself to eat. 

By the end of the second week, Rhysand had formed a plan. He watched as the High Lord wrote a note to you requesting your presence. The letter disappeared and he was reassured that if nothing else, you would come when the court needed you. His shadows had been restless the entirety of the two weeks of you being gone and tonight was no different. He was just as restless as they were with anticipated hope.

The entire day was spent pacing in different rooms to pass the time while thinking of any and every speech for whatever he had unknowingly done wrong. Feyre had done her best to calm and reassure him but nothing would soothe him until he saw you. It was what he had thought until you strode through the door of the river house.

Your scent hit him so hard that it made him stumble when he went to take a step towards you. He froze on his second step when you didn’t look at him but instead opted to watch your High Lord with anger in your eyes. It was at that time that he took a moment to do a full assessment of you only to find that you appeared to be in the same emotional state that he was in. You had lost weight and the dark circles were a harsh contrast to your unusually pale skin.

“I’m here,” you snapped, causing Rhysand to frown. “I’ve got things to be doing.”

“Care to fill us in on what ‘things’ you are busy with?” the High Lord countered.

“It’s not your business what I do with my personal time.”

“The personal time that a member of my court has used to stay hidden for two weeks.”

“I may be a part of your court, Rhysand but I do not have to report all of my movements.”

“No,” Rhys agreed. “But as a member of my Inner Circle, I would like the courtesy of knowing that you are safe when you decide to disappear without a trace. Maybe I should make you a spy as well since you do such a good job of it.”

“I don’t have time for this.” You bared your teeth at the High Lord who only smiled in return, the action causing you to huff. “Call me if there is actual business.”

“Y/N,” Azriel started when you glared at him once you began to make your way to the door. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you growled.

The four words had him recoiling his hand from where he tried to stop you. There was a hatefulness in your eyes that had never been laid upon him before and he could feel the burning beginning in his eyes. He loved you more than words could ever explain but yet here you were, staring at him with so much disgust. It made him feel lower than he had ever felt in his life. Lower than how he had felt as a child locked in a lightless cell.

“Please, please tell me what’s wrong,” he begged, blocking out everyone else in the room around them. “Please.”

“I really can’t believe you Azriel.” Tears filled your eyes and the pain in them had his knees buckling. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

“Y/N, please-”

He tried once again to grasp your arm to stop you but your face paled as if the simple thought of him touching you made you sick. Every insecurity that he ever had began to resurface, every insecurity that had been healed simply because of your support. His worst fear had been confirmed but he refused to give up until he knew what had gone so horribly wrong. 

“Please tell me what I did,” he begged again once the both of you were outside. “How can I make it right?”

“You can make it right by going back to whatever bitch you wanted.” You swirled on him so quickly that he hardly had time to register that you did so, leaving nothing a handful of inches between the two of you. “I wasn’t enough so go find better!”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” he asked in astonishment. “You are all that I’ve ever wanted. You are everything that I have been searching for my entire life.”

“I’m all you want but yet you have no problem with wanting a threesome?” His heart dropped as he realized what had happened. “Did you really think I would go along with that? Or were you planning it with someone else?”

“I wasn’t-”

Azriel took a deep breath and dropped down onto one knee while pulling the small box out of his pocket. He had kept it with him every single day and he was thankful that he did even if he was silently cursing his brother for ruining the proposal. Before opening it, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you into him before burying his face into your stomach.

“Cassian,” he mumbled with a defeated sigh. “Is a fucking idiot.”

“Oh, I know all about him encouraging such an idiotic thing!” you exclaimed while halfheartedly trying to wiggle free from him. 

“He was trying to talk me into accepting a gift from him for..”

“For what?”

He took a deep breath, savoring the contact, before he pulled away and looked up to you. A small gasp escaped your lips when he opened the box that held the blue sapphire engagement ring. 

“For a bachelor party if you said yes when I proposed.”

Hope was the only thing that he could cling to when tears formed in your eyes as they darted between him and the ring. He took note that your body began to shake just as the smallest smile formed on your face.

“You- You were..”

“This isn’t exactly the way that I had planned it out,” he chuckled, feeling relieved to see some light back in your eyes. “My life has been nothing but darkness until you came into it and lit it up as if you were the brightest sun that could ever exist. A sun that made all of the dark disappear and made me feel truly seen for the first time in my life. I have never known true love and happiness until I was able to call you mine and it would be the greatest honor that I could ever receive to be able to call you my wife.”

Tears were falling freely down your face but your eyes never left his. The love and adoration had returned and it took everything in him to stay on one knee until he received a reply of some sort.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” you exclaimed.

He was barely able to stand in time to catch you before you launched yourself onto him, throwing your arms around his neck and squeezing tightly. It bordered on pain but he didn’t dare complain now that you were back in his arms.

“Thank the Mother.”

You giggled at his words and then gave him the brightest smile when he slid the ring on your finger. He crashed his lips to yours, appreciating every single thing about you in a way that he hadn’t before. When he pulled away, there was a mischievous grin adorning your face.

“I think me and Cassian need to have a nice long chat.”

He laughed, a genuine true laugh, before following you inside and enjoying the scolding that his brother earned.  

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