#Cassian isn't an abuser
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daughter-of-lethe · 3 months ago
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Your closed mind and all your poisonous hatred are appaling, but I would let it slip if you didn't just insulted me.
Do you feel better being a bully?
What's wrong with saying that all the hard feelings you have, all the poisonous venom you spit is harmful? Does bullying me make you feel better?
Your "you can enjoy..." than procedes to insult me is the real issue here, and show how much abusive you are. Do you think it's healthy expressing yourself the way you did?
Look at yourself in the mirror before judging others, right now you are an abusers worse than the person you're calling out to be.
Now...
You speak like you possess some sort of fundamental truth and that you're the only right pov where in fact you don't. So calm down, all this hate you feel is not my problem, and expressing yourself in this way, without actually being open to different opinions shows how arid and poor is your soul.
Domestic abuse is a whole different thing than what you're calling out, educate yourself on what it really is and be respectful. It's a serious issue and the way you're being superficial about it show how you much you have to learn.
You conveniently forget to add real facts to your equation and taking down Nesta, using her as a weapon against everyone else is just disgusting and the worse abusive behaviour ever.
"made his day brighter" is a sentence that isn't in the book, Cassian never said it neither thought it.
Cassian never restricted what she had to ear. With just a toast she would have faint and give her a nutritious and protein meal instead of a soft slice of toast, seems to me the thought of someone who cares. Also encouraging her to eat the chocolate cake even if it would give her only little energy, shows clearly that Cassian wants to help her, not change her diet or make her lose more weight. Also the house thinks about what to feed Nesta and the fact that Cassian wanted to wake her up to get something to eat and not to skip a meal is not a bad thing.
Cassian made sure that nothing could happened to her when she was walking home, keeping a distance and for nine months he was away from her, the fact that Amren took her to the party where they met and exchanged a few words is not to be blamed on Cassian.
A warrior like Cassian, an Illyrian with an incredibly fine hear would have noticed if Nesta was going to jump and he wouldn't let her die if she jumped. His main purpose is actually to help the woman.
No training, no learning about the Valkyries and their Mind-Stilling would help. Nothing would help. So she could wait for the water. Because to stop was to allow those thoughts in.
Nesta has a canteen filled with water, she chooses not to drink. Cassian play no part in her decision.
Nesta asked Cassian to, Cassian satisfied her, what would she do if refused? What’s the matter that Nesta is attracted to a man who loves her? Consensus is the basis of everything and every time Cassian asks for it and it’s always Nesta to decide, when she says no, he accepts it. Sex with Cassian finally helped her, sleeping with a different man every night, completely drunk, she herself says she didn’t like it and doesn’t miss it. Sex with Cassian is different and does no harm to her.
Nesta got better thanks to Gwyn, Emerie and Cassian too, but she got better because she saw she could fight for herself, she wanted to fight for herself, she would never learned that if Cassian constantly defended her. He gave her all the tools to help herself and this helped her to fight for herself.
Decontestualizing things, not giving them the proper background just to manipulate them and make them fit your "theories" is so poor and a toxic behaviour.
Azriel never said it, you can't be 100% sure about that. What if he just packed all the necessary for the hike for both of them? For multiple days? Plate, food, clothes maybe, we don't know aren't exactly a feather...
And yet the two of them are friends. At the very end they are good friend.
Feyre wants her sister to get better, if she kindly asked her to move to HoW Nesta would never accept, but that kind of life was ruining her. Nesta was not imprisoned, she was free to make the stairs and go to the city. And Elain wanted only to help Nesta, yes it was a low blow for Nesta, but it was love and concern for her condition that made them act so. They haven't bad intention with her.
Nesta's power is stronger than Rhys's he couldn't violate her mind, It is not certain, we are not told that Rhys has forcibly entered her mind. Later on he kindly ask her to talk.
Morrigan just expressed her opinion on this and there is no law against threatening people, Nesta had just given bad news to Feyre and she was upset, The fact that Rhys does not tolerate that his partner suffers and wants to make suffer who caused that pain, is not evil, but it is love towards Feyre.
I'm saying that spitting your venom isn't healty for your person, having all this bas feelings, it's easier to hate than to understand, but all the hate you're spitting is poisoning just you.
Real and Fake stans exist, real stans litterally understand the charachters, their choices, the situation and the people around them, the one they choose to love. Fake stans claim to be stan just to turn their favourite charachter into a weapon against others they don't like. Just as you did.
Saying that Nessian isn't healthy shows how you didn't understand their dynamic and both the characters. Worse is that you manipulate the book, the sentence and the facts in order to fit the "unhealty" thing.
Yall im gonna kms. NESTA IS 25. SHE IS 25 YEARS OLD AND IS GOING THROUGH SO MUCH SHIT. at this point I’m just pissed, like. Nestas literally my boo and everyone around her treats her like shit all the time. “Oh yeah, she’s displaying suicidal tendencies and definitely isn’t doing ok. But can she do this for us?” I hate you. I hate you so much. Leave my girl alone. NOT TO MENION CASSIAN?? Swear to god that man can catch these hands on any day of the week.
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daughter-of-lethe · 2 months ago
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“I’ll hurt you.” “I don’t care.” “I do, Nesta”
A Court of Silver Flames
chapter 37
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bldhrry · 4 months ago
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gold rush
Cassian x Fem!Reader Summary: After stopping your father from clipping your wings, Rhysand offers you refuge in Velaris at the House of Wind. Living with Cassian isn't terrible but he is loud and annoying and overly interested in you. Despite his overbearing nature, you can't help but start to fall for him. Masterlist
warnings: cursing, abuse, suggestive language, kissing
word count: 9.2k
author's note: lil cass slow burn! hope you like it n lmk what you think!
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When you woke that morning with blood soaking your sheets and legs you knew you stood no chance against the expectations of females in the village.  You hid your ruined bed sheets and night clothes in your closet and despite an hour in the bath, your scent was simply too strong and your father pieced it together quickly.
The start of an Illyrian female’s cycle was the death of her wings and you were desperate to save them.  You loved your wings; they were unlike any of the other villagers.  Unlike their dark brown, yours were a reddish pink and the sun shone through them easily revealing all the intricate veins that hid beneath the skin.
Your father chased you around the house and despite efforts to dodge his attacks, he cornered you in the kitchen and before you knew it he had your hair in his fist, dragging you to the village square.  You were to be made an example to the other females in the camp that this was inevitable and although you were the daughter of a camp lord you were not an exception to the culture.  Your wings were not meant to be used; they were simply decorations and nothing more.
You had put up a fight, kicking and screaming and scratching your father and when you had managed to escape his grasps, the other lords were quick to tackle and pin you down.  A few received bites and threats, but this wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle.  This was an almost everyday occurrence.
Your father threw you on to the stone pavement and you rose to your hands and knees and tried to scramble away but he grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards him and flipping you around.
“I fucking hate you,” you snarled at him, kicking his stomach.
It was raining so bad you could barely see what was going on but you felt him release his grip on you but it was quickly replaced by another set of hands and your father made his way behind you.  He grabbed the talon on your left wing and pulled you up so you were on your knees and through the rain you could see the glint of the knife he held in his hand.
You started to cry, your tears mixing with the rain that was pouring down your face.  “Please,” you begged, twisting in his grasp.  
You tried keeping your wings tucked in so he wouldn’t be able to destroy them, but it was to no avail as he forced them open and pierced it with his knife.
You screamed and fell forward on to your chest.  Whoever had been grabbing you was gone and you crawled away from your father, the knife still lodged in your wing.  He maintained his grip and the more you moved, the more the knife ran down the muscles, tearing them apart.
The rain was so loud you didn’t hear the footsteps approaching or the voice that demanded your father to stop.  But you felt it.  The knife was ejected and you felt the weight of your father off your back.  You didn’t stop to see what had happened.  You pushed yourself up to your knees and stumbled; your left wing couldn’t move, throwing you off balance so you staggered forward, trying to find some place to hide but the rain made your visibility almost nonexistent.
A hand, large and firm, grabbed your wrist and without thinking you whirled around, your fist connecting with a nose.  The movement threw you off balance again and you stumbled backwards into someone else, this time their chest.  They tried to straighten you, but again, you raised your fist and swung, but whoever it was had a quicker reflex than the previous person and grabbed your wrist mid air.
“I’m here to help.”  The voice was deep, but elegant.
You tried to pull back, but their grip was too strong.  “Get the fuck away from me,” you growled.
They stepped closer to you and you squinted and as their face came into view you let out a small gasp.
It was Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court.
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Rhysand, with his arm around you to support your weight, and his male companion took you to the healer and there you sat as the healer promised you that the wing would heal and you would still be able to fly.
The male companion, who you had recognized in the faelight was Cassian, the Court’s General.
“You pack one hell of a punch, sweetheart.”  He laughed and pushed more tissue into his nostrils. 
You had fractured his nose and his face was already starting to bruise.  You should’ve felt bad and apologized, but you didn’t.  You weren’t sorry and in fact you were proud of yourself for leaving marks on every single person who had attacked and put their hands on you today.  
And maybe, just maybe, Cassian should have not grabbed you so aggressively given the situation.
“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Rhysand said from across the room.  He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.  He was pissed and he made no attempt to hide it.  Despite the law forbidding wing clipping, the practice was still widespread amongst the villages.  You were lucky he was visiting that day and that your father was stupid enough to do it while he was there.
You didn’t say anything and you weren’t going to thank him either.  He needed to do a better job at preventing this.
So, you let out a breath of annoyance through your nose and straightened yourself, looking into his violet eyes.  “Thank you for doing what is expected of you, my Lord.”  You drawled out his title, narrowing your eyes at him.  This was the one thing he said he would do and yet almost every female in the village had their wings clipped.
Rhysand’s face flushed and he looked down in shame.
Cassian let out a laugh of surprise earning a glare from Rhysand.  But Cassian didn’t care.  He was in pure awe of you; in awe of the fight you put up, the strength of your punch, and your confidence of chastising the High Lord.  You showed no fear, just rage.
The healer gave you an ointment to put on your wing nightly and sent you home, but as you left you stopped, looking around.  Your father was receiving his punishment along with the other lords and you knew if you went home it would be chaos.  Your mother was gone and you had no other family.  You had no home left.
“I take it you have no other family in Windhaven?”  Rhysand stood next to you, his hands in his pockets.  His gaze was soft, sympathetic, and incredibly apologetic.
You didn’t want to let him see your fear and sadness so you scowled up at him.  “No.”
“I have more than enough room at the House of Wind in Velaris.  You are welcome to have a home there.”  Seeing your apprehension, he quickly continued.  “If you wish of course.  It is the least I can do.”
You grunted.  It was, actually.  And you really did need a place to stay.  You accepted his outstretched hand and he winnowed you away to your new home and your new life.
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You lived with Cassian and Azriel in the House of Wind.  They were incredibly kind and good roommates even if they both left their dishes out and never cleaned up after themselves and put their feet up on the coffee table.  Okay, maybe they weren’t the best or the cleanest, but at least they were kind and you enjoyed their company.
Your room was on the opposite side of the House from where their rooms were.  You claimed it was because you wanted your own space, but really it was to avoid another awkward run in with an almost naked Illyrian.
Azriel was your favorite.  He was quiet, kept to himself, and cleaner than Cassian.  Every time he spoke it was with a purpose and you appreciated that.  You hated nonsensical conversations and that’s the one thing you hated about Cassian.  
He had a lot to say about nothing.  He asked stupid questions and never stopped talking; you didn’t think you had ever seen him sit in silence.  He asked you what you did with your day and when you responded with a one word answer he’d ask you for details; he asked about the books you were reading and what they were about and you wouldn’t have minded this had it not been when you were actively reading.
“How was your day today, sweetheart?”  He bounded into the kitchen and you could’ve sworn the walls shook.  He always called you that and it was obnoxious but you could tell in the tone of his voice it meant nothing more than a friendly pet name.
“Nothing.”
“Just nothing?”  He sat across from you.
You were reading yet another novel and was attempting to have a peaceful, quiet lunch.
“Yes,” you huffed your response hoping he would get the hint you wanted to be left alone.
But Cassian was stupidly oblivious.  “What exactly does ‘nothing’ entail?”
“It means I did nothing.”  You looked up and gave him a deadpan stare.  “I read and went to the library.”
He smirked.  “That’s not nothing.”  He chuckled at your frown.  “I love when you make that face.”
“I’m glad I amuse you.”  You looked back down at your book, sighing.
“You do.”  
There was something about his tone and the way he said it that made you look up and he was looking at you with an unreadable expression.  Something like sadness, and maybe longing, flashed in his eyes and for the brief second you tried to decipher it you were struck at how beautiful his eyes were.  They were hazel with more green than brown and if you looked closely enough they had a sheen about them that made them seem alive with mischief.
He quickly composed himself and flashed her a lopsided grin.  “I actually think you’re very funny.”
You raised an eyebrow at him.  “How interesting.”
He eventually left, claiming he was tired and wanted to take a nap but as you read your mind drifted to that look in his eyes.  It cut you inside and you felt an unfamiliar feeling spread in your chest.
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Rhysand offered you a place in his Court and his Inner Circle after six months of living there.  He would have asked sooner, but wanted to give you time to settle in and look at him with something other than distaste.
You didn’t hate Rhysand.  You just wished he did a better job at protecting his people.  Wing clipping was cruel and stripped away all autonomy that Illyrian females had, forcing them to rely on the males in their life.  It kept them trapped in an endless cycle of oppression.
You knew it had to be difficult, hell maybe even impossible, to regulate all camps and enforce the law.  You were rational in that thought process and you couldn’t fault him for that; he was trying his best.  But that didn’t mean you couldn’t be angry for yourself and for every female across Illyria.
He made you Cassian’s “Second” despite the fact that you had no formal battle training or knew nothing about how the camps worked outside of the domestic duties of a home.  You hadn’t even been born during the war with Hybern.  You were essentially a glorified assistant with a seemingly important title.  Your job was to accompany Cassian during his visits, or rather inspection, of the camps and check for compliance and the status of the training and would be warriors, and hopefully soon, the integration of females into the training ring.
This, you scoffed at.  If Rhysand couldn’t stop wing clipping then how the hell did he think he would be able to force the camp lords to allow females to train?
You didn't care to ask questions, you were just grateful for a job and something to do.  There was only so much to do at the House and in the city and you were bored.  You had essentially become a librarian with how well you knew the library.
After saying your goodbyes after dinner you were about to fly back to the House when movement to your right caught your eye and Cassian was running after you, a boyish smile lighting up his face.
“Are you excited to be working together?”  He breathlessly asked when he came up to you.
You gave him a sarcastic look and smiled.  “Enthusiastic.”
His smile faltered and for a brief moment you felt bad, but his face lit back up and he grinned at you.  “Well, I think if we’re going to be working together at the camps then you need to learn how to fight.  What do you think?”
You mulled this over for a few seconds and shrugged.  “I was never allowed to, so I’m not going to be any good at it.”
He waved dismissively.  “That’s fine.”  Then he leaned towards you, that stupid grin on his face, and much to your disbelief you found yourself tilting your head up, your faces inches apart.  “I like a challenge.”
His tone was playful but at the same time it wasn’t.  Hidden beneath those four words was a promise.  A promise of what, you couldn’t pinpoint, but the way he said it, his voice raspy and dropping an octave made your heart skip a beat and your breath catch in your throat, a familiar heat rushing through your veins.  He seemed to notice this, his eyes glancing ever so quickly, but slow enough you noticed, between your eyes and lips.
“I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early at six.”  
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Training was fucking awful for both you and Cassian.  You thought too much about your movements, double guessing yourself which resulted in your stumbling and falling or a strike from Cassian.  Wielding a sword and dagger was uncomfortable and felt so unnatural that you had thrown down the ones Cassian gave you a half hour into training.  You preferred hand to hand combat much to Cassian’s dismay.  The more you trained and the stronger you got, so did your punches and kicks and while he tried to hide the bruises, he couldn’t hide the limping to his room after your sessions.
“You need to stop thinking so hard and just trust your gut.”  Cassian told you.  
It was a hot Summer day and the sun was relentless as you sweated under its hot rays.  Cassian had repeated himself at least six times by now and you were getting so frustrated.  He kept coming at you so fast and hard that you didn’t have time to register his movements.  And when he did slow down and gave you some space you spent too much time considering his next move that by the time you decided on how to counter, he had already knocked you down.
“If I trust my gut then I would just throw you off the fucking balcony.”
He laughed loudly and shook his head.  You were brash and quick witted and sometimes he would press your buttons just to hear what insult and remark you'd come up with.  You were incredibly creative with them.
You two had been training for three months at this point and you actually weren’t that bad considering how awful you were in the beginning.  He didn’t mind teaching you how to fight and in fact he knew you enjoyed the routine.  You were always on time and if he looked hard enough he could see a glimmer of excitement in your eyes.  He liked that you always had questions that even followed him out of the ring and he particularly enjoyed the way you sought him when you found something interesting in the countless books he had given you on the art of war and fighting.
You two hadn’t gotten closer so to speak, but you were tolerating his presence a little better than before.  As of recently you didn’t mind his pointless talking and incessant questions.  He had a loud personality but it suited him well; a big personality for a big male.
He was conventionally attractive and on the first day of training when you had entered the training ring, he was already there finishing his warm up shirtless and sweaty.  It had taken your breath away; he wasn’t just good looking, but he was downright sexy.  He was beautifully built with broad shoulders and extremely prominent muscles.  His hair, jet black, touched his shoulders in waves and his skin was a flawless brown that seemed to glow no matter the lighting.  His face was chiseled, resembling a god, and you found yourself admiring it while he was busying himself with preparing whatever he had planned for the day.
You hated that you started to notice all of this and the way it made you feel.  Sometimes he would catch you looking at him, your eyes fierce and aflame with something he couldn’t name.  You didn’t mean to look at him with such discontent, but you were discontented.  He was gorgeous and you liked him.  You liked him a lot.  You liked his childish and crude sense of humor and his contagious laugh.  You liked the way his brow came together when he was concentrating and the way he shifted on his feet when he was thinking.  
Cassian liked you too.  You were gorgeous with thick hair that reached your mid back with cheekbones that were high and round and a slightly pointed chin; your face resembled the shape of a heart.  Your body was unlike anything he had seen before; you had gained a lot of muscle since you had started training and it filled you out in places that he was ashamed to look at.  You had a naturally round body with wide hips and thighs and a slightly slim waist; your chest was big and your shoulders wide.  But his favorite feature were your eyes; they constantly had an analytical look to them like you could see through everything and everyone.  You regarded him with a mixture of interest and indifference and while he couldn’t figure out exactly how you felt about him, he took what he could get and tried his hardest to get and keep your attention.
It was a bit pathetic how hard he tried with you.  He followed you around like a lost, starving dog, and the only time he was fed was when you looked and talked to him.  The conversations were always short and you never cared to entertain him with a discussion that had no end goal or a discussion that wasn’t started by you.  You were selfish in that way but he would take what he could get.  Which really wasn’t a lot but he didn’t mind.
You both never forgot that night on the front lawn of Rhysand’s townhouse.  Cassian thought of the way your eyes widened and you leaned into him ever so slightly when he did the same and the way your lips, full and slightly pink, parted when he spoke.  You also thought of the way Cassian had smiled at you, a mix of joy and seduction, and his eyes, usually a light hazel, were a dark amber that seemed to see your soul in ways that made you want to hide.  In your darkest moments you thought of his voice and his breath fanning your face and the way he said those four words made your knees wobbly and you gut tightened.
Cassian didn’t just mean it in the sense that it would be difficult to train you given your inexperience but also in the sense that he knew you would be difficult to get to know.  He also knew it would be a challenge to get you to like him, both platonically and romantically.  Whether you consciously knew it, you were guarded and armed to the teeth with walls so thick nobody had yet to learn anything about you.  You chose your words carefully, but not your facial expressions.  You were quick to let Cassian know in little and polite words that you didn’t care about what he was talking about, but your face said you would rather bang your head on the table than hear him speak about the bird that took a shit on his wing as he flew to meet Rhysand and Azriel.  
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“No training tomorrow,” Cassian told you as you walked out of the ring.
You had a better session today ending with you only falling once and Cassian dodging all of your jabs.
“Oh.”
Cassian could’ve sworn you sounded disappointed.
“Why?”  You finally asked halfway up the steps to the House.
“I have an assignment in Windhaven.”
You stopped on the steps and he turned to look at you.  Your eyes were sharp as they narrowed on him and he suddenly felt very naked under your stare.  He could see the gears turning in your head as you took in the information.
“Shouldn’t I be going with you?”  You finally asked after a few seconds.
It was his turn to give you a look, cocking his head to the side.  “If you want to, I guess.”
You resumed your walk up the steps, brushing past his arm and he sucked in a breath at the contact.  “Well, I think I have the right to go given we are supposed to be working together.  Right?”
“That is very true, sweetheart.”
“Yes I know.  That’s why I said it.”  A few moments passed before you spoke again.  “Why didn’t you ask me?”  Your voice was soft as you two walked into the kitchen.
He stopped in the doorway and watched as you grabbed two cups from the cupboard and filled them with water.
“I didn’t think you’d want to go.  It wasn’t anything personal, I promise.”
You hummed and leaned against the counter.  “I know it wasn’t; you’re not that kind of person.  But,” you raise your eyes to him, “it would have been nice to be asked.  I have a job here too.”
You’re not that kind of person.  The statement took his breath away and you tried to figure out why he was looking at you so bewildered.
“I’m sorry,” he gave you a soft smile and lowered his head.  His face shifted and his eyes grew mischievous and his smile turned into a grin.  His stance relaxed and he crossed one foot over the other.  “If I didn’t know any better, sweetheart, I would think you wanted to spend time with me.”
You scowled and he reveled in the way your face contorted when he annoyed you.  And you did it often.
“Well, it’s a good thing you do.”
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You two left early in the morning before the sun had risen and flew in silence to the camp.  You loved flying, especially so early in the morning; the world was so quiet and peaceful and the only life around were the birds who let you fly so close to them you could see your reflection in their eyes.
You never truly felt at peace for some reason.  Your body was always wounded up with stress and anxiety and the anticipation of whatever the day was going to bring, but when you were in the sky nothing mattered but the sun on your face and the wind whispering in your ears.
Cassian could see how relaxed you were.  A smile ghosted your features and it was probably one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.  He was looking at you so intensely that he didn’t notice he was leaning towards you until he bumped your wing with his.  
You snapped out of your trance and side eyed him and he chuckled.  “Sorry.”
You rolled your eyes.  “First time flying?”
He blushed and bit his lip.  No, he wanted to say, just looking at the most beautiful thing in the world.  But he didn’t.  Instead, he just straightened himself and led the way.
After another two hours of flying you two landed on the doorstep of Rhysand mother’s house.
“After you,” Cassian held the door open and you walked in.
It was an appropriate size with a living room and two rooms to the left and a kitchen to the right and a set of worn stairs in front of you.  A fire was already going in the hearth and it left a warm glow on the furniture and walls.
The size of the house suddenly shrunk as Cassian walked in.  His hair grazed the ceiling and he had to turn sideways to get through the door frame.  It was a comical scene and to his surprise you laughed, your head tilting back and your eyes squeezing shut.  He stilled, his hand still on the doorknob.  You looked stunning.
“What is so funny?”  Cassian shut the door and leaned against it.
“You look ridiculous.  You are too big for this house.”  You bit your lip and clasped your hands together, trying but failing to suppress another laugh.
“And that’s funny to you?”  He raised an eyebrow.
“No,” your face stilled and you grew serious, standing straighter and brushing your hair over your shoulder.  But it quickly dissolved as you let out a snort and covered your mouth, turning away.
He did look insane in this house and you weren’t sure why you found it so funny.  You were aware he was freakishly tall and built like a bull, but the House of Wind was so big it made him look an average size.  But here, in this normal sized cottage for normal sized people, he looked so out of place and his indifference to it all was hilarious.
“I’m glad my vertical condition amuses you, sweetheart.”  He brushed past you taking your bag to your room and to your shock he took his bag to the room next to yours.
“Our rooms are next to each other?”
And without looking at you, Cassian said, “yeah so be careful bringing anyone over; the walls are so thin.”
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You hadn’t seen your father since you had moved to Velaris and you were glad for it.  You never liked him; he was mean and cruel and had driven your mother to madness and eventually her death.  You had never forgiven him for that or any of his misdeeds for that matter.  Sometimes you fantasized about his death and how much relief you would feel knowing he was burning in hell, paying for his sins.
You sat across from him during the meeting with the camp lords.  You wore traditional fighting leathers and like Cassian you had a sword strapped to your back.  In reality you didn’t know how to use it or how to fight, really, but appearances mattered with males who thought they were better than everyone and it mattered to you for them to know just how good you were doing.
Your father’s stare was overbearing as he took in your clothes and weapons and the hard set look in your eyes.  You looked just like your mother and he hated that.
“We are just here to oversee the training of the warriors and your preparations for the Blood Rite.”  Cassian had an easy going, but threatening smile.
He knew these people hated him.  They hated that he was a bastard; they hated how powerful he was; and they hated that he was above them, giving them orders and commands.
Devlon frowned at Cassian.  “We have 200 warriors.  They train from dawn to dusk.  And nearly all of them have qualified for the Rite.  What else is there to see?”
Cassian shrugged, rubbing his siphons.  The red glow was enchanting and intimidating.  “The specifics of our visit are on a need to know basis; I hope you understand.”  His smile was sent a chill up her spine.
Devlon’s frown grew but he knew better than to argue.  “Fine,” he sighed and waved his hand in a dismissive nature.  “Just don’t bother them while they train.”
And with that the group disbanded.  You got up along with Cassian and nodded to everyone.  They didn’t bother to look you in the eye or say goodbye as they left, but you kept your head high and your hands folded in front of you.  This made you appear strong, but in reality you were hiding your shaking hands.
When they all left you let out a shaky breath and cleared your throat, sitting back down in your chair.  You wrapped your wings around your shoulders, cocooning yourself within them.
“You okay?”  Cassian’s voice was soft and he placed a hand in between your shoulder blades.
His touch was warm and soft despite the calluses on his hands and you found yourself wanting to lean into it and maybe even ask for more.  Instead you moved away from it and cleared your throat, tucking your wings in and standing up.  
Facing him, you gave him a tight lipped smile and nodded.  “Of course.”
You two strolled through the camp after the meeting.  You weren’t really here to oversee the training, but to see about properly implementing the law banning wing clipping.  Since you had left, nobody else had been subjected to that abuse but it was only a matter of time that someone did it, causing a domino effect and it would come back in full swing.
You had only been here a day and you already wanted to leave.  It was dull and sad here and looking up at the sky you couldn’t help but let out a groan.  You missed the sun in Velaris; in Windhaven the sky was always gray and dark like this place was destined to be constantly punished by the gods.
“That bad huh?”  Cassian had noticed that you had not smiled once or chastised him for being annoying since arriving.  You weren’t sure which one concerned him the most.
“It just sucks here.”  The response was juvenile and it made him smile.
“I hate it too.”
You knew of Cassian the warrior, but nothing else except for what you saw at the House.  And it hit you in that moment you had never thought to ask and it made you stop in your tracks and you pushed out your bottom lip and squinted up at him.  “Why?”
The question threw Cassian off.  You had never asked him anything about his personal life.
“Bad memories.”  He shrugged.  “I lost my mother young and was tossed here having to beg for scraps.”  He had a far away look in his eyes and your heart lurched in your chest.
“I’m sorry,” and you meant it.
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By the fifth day of the “mission,” you two had come to the conclusion that trusting the camp lords to enforce the ban was futile and that a permanent position in overseeing it was necessary.  You had known that from the start and reminded Cassian of such with a sarcastic, “I told you so.”
Cassian was writing out his report for Rhysand and you were laid out on the couch, a book in your hands.  He had made little to no progress on completing it; he kept getting distracted by you.
You were laying on your stomach with your head propped up with one hand and the other cradling the book and your leg hiked up, making your backside more prominent than it already was.  It was a crazy sight and his head was dizzy every time he beheld you.  You were completely enthralled in your book that you did not notice how tightly he was gripping the papers in his hand or the way his knee bounced furiously and the way he shifted ever so slightly in his seat.
He couldn’t stop thinking about how soft your skin would be beneath his hands or the way you would react to his touch, your back arching slightly and your breath coming out in soft pants.  You were playing with your lip as you read and he admired their color and fullness and then he pondered how they would feel against his and how you would taste as he swallowed your moans.  He could picture it clear as day and it scared him slightly how vivid and real you existed in his mind.  Cassian was so trapped in his thoughts that he didn’t hear you calling out to him or hear you walk up to him.
He jerked when you touched his shoulders and you saw how crazed his eyes looked, wide and his pupils blown, drowning out the green and leaving gold in its wake.  
“You okay?”  You asked, your brow furrowed together in concern.
He had been so quiet all night and it worried you.  He was usually talkative and aggravating but he hadn’t said a word since you two settled in the living room.  He was staring at the papers but it was like he was seeing through them and his leg was bouncing a mile a minute.  You worried you had upset him by asking about his past and you thought of apologizing but you didn’t want to bring it up again and upset him even more.
So instead you opted to leave it to him to tell you if something was wrong.
Your hand was still on Cassian’s shoulder and your face was so close that your hair tickled his arm and he sucked in a deep breath and your scent filled his senses, making his nostrils flare.  You smelled like lavender mixed with pine.
“I’m fine,” he mumbled, placing the papers on his lap and prayed that it concealed his erection.
He leaned away slightly, hoping that some distance would calm his nerves and you noticed it, feeling your heart sink.
You jutted your bottom lip out slightly and exhaled through your nose, straightening but keeping your hand on his shoulder.  “Okay.  I was just checking.”
Your eyes locked with his and he still had a look that was a mixture of disbelief and fear and it made you look at him even harder and you found yourself leaning, invading his space again.
Cassian stilled so much he wasn’t even sure if he was breathing anymore.  His skin felt so tight and his pants even more so.  He could feel his blood pump through his veins and his heart was shuddering with every beat.  You were so, so close that it sent an irrational fear through him; anything could happen right now and a million scenarios ran through his mind, all of them including you and him kissing and what happened after that varied.
Leave him be.  Back up.  Go to bed.  The thoughts were so loud but you didn’t move.  You were entirely entranced by his gaze and you were rooted in place.  He smelled like the aftermath of a forest fire, the air thick with smoke clouding your vision and making its home in your lungs.  You felt like you were in a haze of him and you couldn’t find your way out and honestly, you didn’t want to.  It was comfortable and warm and oddly safe.
You barely heard yourself over the roar in your ears as you asked Cassian once again if he was okay, but you definitely heard the way he rasped out his response.  It was a stangled “yes” and your entire body grew hot, so much so your vision tunneled and you could only see him.
His response wasn’t just a direct answer to your question.  It was a response to the unspoken questions floating between you two and he hoped you had understood that.  It was also a plea, a one word beg for you to close the distance and let him lose himself in you.  He didn’t just want it, but he needed it.  He had this ache in his chest since the day he met you that no amount of times he thought about you while he pumped himself into oblivion could quell it.  He begged Rhysand to give you a position that would keep you close to him and you didn’t need to train in order to work with him but he made up that excuse so he could spend even more time with you.  And it was worth it even if you gave him a blank stare when he said something ridiculous or when you snapped at him for bothering you.
And this closeness was only making it worse.  You were so close but so far and he didn’t want to do something that made you uncomfortable and shatter whatever you felt for him, if you did at all.  So he stayed where he was, letting you make the decision, praying it was the one where you kissed him.
But to his utter disappointment, you released the grip on his shoulder and pulled away, giving him a pained smile.
“Okay.”  You exhaled, expelling the thoughts and feelings and his scent from your body and mind.  “Goodnight, Cassian.”  And as you walked to your room, leaving him reeling from this three minute encounter, you turned and gave him another smile.  “If you need to talk just let me know.”  
He gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and felt like he was being stabbed.  “Of course.  You too.”
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Neither of you slept that night.  
He spent an hour in the bathroom, making himself finish three times and even then he couldn’t get his erection to go away.  You had stood so close to him that he could see the brown that flickered in your eyes and every pore on your face and even now he could smell you on him, like it was clinging to his skin, taunting him.
You didn’t rest either.  The bed was uncomfortable and the room was too hot and the blankets made you itch.  You couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes and the way his lips were parted just enough you could imagine your tongue snaking its way in, claiming it.  If you allowed the thought to fester, which you did, you could see yourself moving against and feel his arms around your waist helping you reach your climax and you could also see his eyes, with their pupils blown, staring into yours, encouraging you.  
You made the fantasy stop there.  This was ridiculous.  You were being ridiculous.  You couldn’t say why or rationally curse yourself for these thoughts and feelings, but this was wrong and just couldn’t happen.  
It was unrealistic anyway, really.  Cassian had lived a life you couldn’t even begin to fathom and though he could act like he knew nothing, he actually knew a lot.  He always had an answer to your questions and could go on and on about the endless strategic tactics used when fighting.  You could listen to him all day if you could.
You were a camp lord’s daughter from a village that hated the existence of your gender.  Your education had been cut short and you were forced to teach yourself basic arithmetic and reading beyond a grade school level.  Your dreams were crushed beneath your father’s boot and any flame of ambition was snuffed out and replaced with patriarchal propaganda.  You were a nobody wanting a somebody.
You two were complete opposites but were the same in your insecurity: thinking you weren’t enough for each other.
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The tension between you and Cassian was so thick that Azriel started to sleep at Rhysand’s townhouse.
You and Cassian still had your morning training sessions but you both pulled your punches and kept your distance which ruined the point of training.
You were avoiding him, too.  He still looked for you during breakfast and lunch and made unformatable small talk.  You couldn’t bear it and after a few days you started taking your food in your room.
You did want to be around him and hear whatever nonsense came out of his mouth and his pointless questions because you had a gripe with how you felt about him.  You felt stupid with the way your mind became foggy when he was near and how you stared at him when he wasn’t looking and most of all how your body came alive when you saw him.  It was embarrassing and you hoped by spending less time with him it would go away.
You hated crushes.  They were childish and pointless especially when pining after someone like Cassian.  You knew so many people wanted him and it was evident the few times you had gone to the city with him.  Females and even some males were shameless in the way their eyes trailed his body and the way they openly flirted with him when they stopped him in the streets.  You never felt jealous about this because you completely understood the appeal but you knew with how many people he could choose to be with, you wouldn’t be the one he wanted.
Cassian noticed the way you would scurry away when he came into the room and stiffened when he spoke to you and it broke his heart.  It aggravated him to degrees he didn’t think was possible.  You had no reason to avoid him unless you were put off by the night in the cottage and you didn’t like him anymore, if you ever did.  Maybe you were tired of being around him and the way you seemed to detest his presence prior was real and you finally got sick of it.  He wasn’t sure but he missed you in a way that was foreign to him; he missed your scowl and raised eyebrow that said ‘are you fucking serious?’  He also missed the way you would curl up on the couch, with your feet tucked in underneath you, and smile at whatever you were reading, holding your lip between your fingers.  But he especially missed your eyes and how they saw him.  You saw him in a way that was entirely too personal despite you never asking him a question; it was like you could see every single thing about him and sometimes he could see a glimmer of acceptance dancing in them.
He thought about that night in Windhaven and the way you looked at him with concern and a hint of need.  The scent of your arousal that night mixed in with your natural scent followed him wherever he went.  He would smell it at the most random moments and he was ashamed to admit that it caused a physical reaction that left him biting his lip and stifling his moans and no matter how often came, your name falling from his lips, the craving for you never ceased.  It was driving him crazy.  He had never felt like this before and he knew that even if he had you, it still wouldn’t be enough.  He had the idea that he would never not need and want you.
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You had been eating a snack in the kitchen when Cassian sauntered in.  He had seen you when he had walked past and decided to essentially trap you so he could get just a few minutes of conversation.  He missed your voice.
You didn’t hear him come in but you felt his presence immediately.  It was powerful and filled the room and seeped into your pores, making you flush with heat.  Your body tensed at it and you glanced up and he was already looking at you, that stupid grin on his face.
“Hey.”  It was a greeting but a dismissive one as you looked back down at your book.
“Hello.”  
You could hear the smile and joy in your voice and you just knew he was going to bother you despite seeing you preoccupied.  You closed your eyes and inhaled through your nose waiting for the avalanche of bullshit that was going to spew from his mouth.
From the corner of your eyes you could see him brace against the counter and scan you.  Your body tensed even more.
After a few seconds Cassian sucked in a breath and bit the bullet.  “Why are you avoiding me?”
The question was unexpected and you looked up at him and frowned.  “I’m not avoiding you.”
“Yes you are.”
“No.  I am not.”  You punctuated each word hoping he would understand those simple, yet clear, four words.
“You are,” and before the scowl could take root in your face he added, “we don’t hang out anymore.”
“We never did to begin with.”
“Fine, you don’t let me hang out with you.”  Now that was more accurate.
You shrugged.  “I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?  Walking the house and the city and reading?”  His words were dripping with annoyance and sarcasm.
“What I do is none of your concern, Cassian.”
He made a noncommittal noise and sighed through his nose.  You noticed the way his shoulders sagged slightly and he took his cheek in between his teeth.  “You don’t want to be around me anymore.”
You scoffed.  What the fuck?  “You’re being absurd.”
“Fine, then let’s hang out.  We can go to the city.”
You gave him a blank stare and looked back down at your book.  “I’m busy.”
“You’re eating crackers and reading.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose.  This was stupid.  He was being stupid.  “This is being busy for me.”  You gestured to your book and before he could counter you added, “and frankly, Cassian, if you’re taking this personally that’s just not my problem.  If you think I’m avoiding you, then maybe, you should take the fucking hint.”  Your eyes were hard as they stared into him with such conviction he stepped back even further into the kitchen counter.
He made a small noise that you could only discern as shock and a little bit of anguish, but it was quickly replaced with narrowing eyes and a set jaw.  “You’re a fucking bitch.”
This made you roar with laughter and you got up, pushing your chair back behind you.  “Excuse me?  What the fuck is your problem?”
“I try to be nice and do you a favor and be your friend and you act like it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world!”  He didn’t mean to get loud with you but he was so tired of being rejected.
“Do me a favor?”  You took a step forward.  “I never asked.  You did that on your own.  And have you considered that maybe I don’t care to be more than your roommate?  Have you considered that maybe it’s not all about you?”
He matched the distance you took towards him.  “And why is that, sweetheart?”
Because I like you.  Because whenever I’m with you I feel like I can’t breathe.  Because I want you so much I feel like my body is going to explode.
But you didn’t say that.  It was too beneath you to be that pathetic over a male.  “Because I don’t care about you.”
This stung Cassian, bad.  And Azriel and Rhysand, who had been eavesdropping, grimaced at the blow.
Cassian cleared his throat and he felt tears starting to sting his eyes.  “Well, sweetheart, that is not very nice is it?”
It wasn’t and it wasn’t the truth but the actual truth would make it too real.  You had been pining for him for months and if you said it, confronted it, spoke it into existence, and he rejected you then…you didn’t even want to consider the aftermath.  You hated the feeling of falling because you knew sooner or later you knew you would crash and hit the ground.
“I’m sorry the truth hurts, Cassian.”
Cassian took another step towards you and he was so close your chests were touching and you had to tilt your head up to look at him.
“You don’t mean that.”
You let out a breathless laugh.  “I just said it, so yeah, I mean it.”
“You don’t.”
“By the cauldron, Cassian,” you hissed and his eyes widened slightly.  “I don’t owe you shit.  So, do me a favor and fuck off.”  You turned to leave and he grabbed your wrist.
He scowled and sucked his teeth.  “You’re a fucking coward, you know that?”
You made a face, a ‘what the fuck are you talking about’ face, and it made Cassian smirk.  He loved it when you did that.
“Look me in the eyes and say that shit.”  
The demand startled you.  Not because of what he said, but because of how he said it.  Full of anger and rage and a slight twinge of despair.  His eyes were hard and dark as they bore into your soul and you sucked in a breath.  You knew he was seeing right through you and through the lies that were falling from your lips.
And it was true.  You hadn’t looked at him every time you took a jab at him.  Instead you opted to look around his face or close your eyes in feign annoyance.  This would be your downfall because the longer you looked into his eyes the more you felt like you were drowning, being pulled under and covered in the green and gold and brown that swirled in them.
“I said what I said so deal with it and leave me alone.”
He tightened his grip on you and took another step towards you and you were acutely aware of how close you two were.  One move and he would consume you.
“Say it.”
“No.”
“Why?  Because you don’t mean it?”
Yes.
“No, because I’ve already said it and I don’t want to repeat myself.”
He snorted.  “You’re impossible.”  He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and you followed the movement.
You two stood in silence for a few seconds and he saw your expression shift from one of annoyance to longing as you said, barely above a whisper, “if I did,” you cleared your throat and straightened yourself, “it wouldn’t even matter.”  You meant for your voice to sound strong and defiant but instead it came out broken and hopeless.
He matched your volume and his eyes turned soft, the brown taking over.  “It would.”
You popped your hip out and made a face that said ‘you’re joking, please be serious, and leave me alone.’  He smiled and took his lip in between his teeth.  Gods, he loved the faces you made.  So real, and transparent, and comical, and expressive.  You could say nothing but it all would be said in the ways your eyes narrowed, your eyebrows raised, and the downturn of your lips.
“It would matter a lot because unlike you I wouldn’t lie about how I feel about you.”
You didn’t say anything but you squinted your eyes and tilted your head, once again silently asking, what the fuck are you talking about?
“So, tell me the truth.”
You narrowed your eyes and huffed, stomping your foot.  “You know Cassian you are the most obnoxious and annoying person I have ever-” you weren’t able to finish your sentence because Cassian cupped your face and crashed his lips into yours.
It was the most exhilarating feeling in the entire world.  His hands, so big and warm and confident in their hold of you, made you melt and the sensation of his mouth working against yours made you see stars.  You stumbled with the force and failed your arms slightly to steady yourself, but Cassian removed one hand and grabbed your wrist again, placing it on your chest and you gripped his shirt and threw your other arm around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.
You pushed yourself on to your toes in an attempt to get closer to him and with a small groan he arched his body down against yours and tilted his head, deepening the kiss.  You matched the way his mouth feverishly overtook yours and it wasn’t long after that he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip asking, no begging, for entrance and you allowed it, moaning as he explored and tasted you.
This was exactly how he imagined you would feel, sound, and taste.  This was even better than what his imagination had conjured up these past few months.  You were soft beneath his grasp and you moved your body as his hands trailed down your back and under your shirt, gripping your waist.  The sounds you made were small and quiet but they vibrated his body and his pants grew tighter and tighter and he feared that if you pressed yourself into him more he would come undone.
You had thought about this moment for so long, too and the reality was so much better.  His stubble scratched your chin and his hands engulfed your frame and his tongue dominated your mouth.  You wanted to be entirely consumed by him and he was doing just that and it was like the heavens had come to you.  Your hands roamed around his chest and shoulders and hair; he was firm and his skin tight as you explored his body and you ached to know every muscle and crevice, every scar and expanse of skin.  You yearned to know him and you didn’t think this level of need was possible but here you were, silently, mentally begging for him to take you and reach for the stars.
He pulled away and you followed him with your mouth, a small whimper leaving your lips.  Your eyes were still closed, reeling from his touch.  Cassian’s eyes were still closed too as he brushed his lips over yours and brushed his nose on the tip of yours.  You two were panting, your breaths heavy and moving in synchrony.
A small smirk spread across his face as he brushed his lips against yours again and you tilted your head, trying to capture them in another searing kiss.
“Tell me again,” he kissed you.  “Tell me you don’t like me.”  Another kiss.  “Tell me you don’t care about me.”  Another kiss.  “Tell me you don’t want me.”
You wouldn’t because it wasn’t true.  It was never true.  Yes he was annoying and sometimes you detested his presence but at the end of the day he was fun and kind and made it a point to include you in everything he or the Inner Court did.  You secretly did like when you asked about your day or what you liked to do.  Nobody had ever been interested in you back home; how you felt and what you wanted was of no concern to anybody.  All that mattered to your father was that the house was picked up, the laundry was done, and the dishes were clean.  It felt amazing to be noticed even if Cassian was overbearing with his interest in you.
“I can’t,” was all you said.  It was true.  You couldn’t lie anymore.  You liked him, you cared about him, and you wanted him.
“Good.”  Another kiss; this one was hot and long, making you both moan, leaving you dizzy and throbbing with desire.  
“Because I don’t just want you, sweetheart.  I need you.”
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daughter-of-lethe · 4 months ago
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You didn't seem to get my point since your words aren't "proof" because I could ask you the same question and still you can't give me an answer 🤷‍♀️
Still you bend the facts, inventing things that SJM didn't write, things that did not happen and completely erase some other events to adapt the story at your theories, in order to make Cassian fit your "Cassian is an abuser" idea of him.
Clearly SJM didn't meant him like this, but she's just the owner of the character, what she could know about him...
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Cassian being mean to Nesta for Feyre's shitty childhood will never not be funny to me.
He spent his entire childhood beating the shit out of other kids, including Rhysand, and stealing their supplies. He abused and mocked Azriel for learning to fly on his own knowing his past as well as the others did. He slept with Mor because he couldn't handle his brother having feelings for a girl.
Five centuries later, he's still no better.
My dude, look in the mirror.
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readychilledwine · 7 months ago
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Pleaseee please could you do obsessive acotar boys who can’t get enough of reader please?
Obsessed
Clingy ACOTAR boys headcanons
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Warnings- suggestive themes, mentions of abuse, possessive vibes, death, different ideas I either tossed out or was too insecure to post in short form (including an AU where Feyre doesn't destroy Spring and Tamlin isn't turned into what he's turned into), Beron, abuse, the Weaver, Ianthe, pregnancy
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Rhysand
The bond snapped after Feyre freed them from the mountain. You were walking with her, giggling about heading home to Spring.
Of course, his mate was his enemy's little sister, and of course that only further the obsession.
Rhys wanted to free you from under Tamlin's grasp, and it became his mission.
It started with daily letters that you ignored.
Then gifts brought to you by shadows.
Then he'd show up in your room. Smiling as he leaned back against your headboard. "Hello y/n Darling."
You caved after 2 weeks of his nightly visits. Allowing him to plan your "kidnapping"
He rips you from Spring with Feyre. Having convinced Tamlin that if he was so worried about his bride to be, he should send his baby sister as a chaperone.
Once he has you in his home, in your home, those soft touches you two shared at night were no longer enough
His lips were on your body constantly. Your hands, your neck, your own soft lips.
Speaking of hands, I hope you like physical contact, because he has to constantly touch you.
In public, the placement is so respectful. Lower back to the lower side, resting just about your hips, guiding you as you shop and spend his money.
When you finally warm his bed, he cancels all plans the next day to ensure he has proper time to explore your body.
He memorized every freckle, every stretch mark, every scar. He doesn't stop until he knows every ticklish spot, every spot that makes your toes curl.
His love languages are gifts and physical touch, so once you opened that box, you opened a whole can of worms.
You are pulled into unused bedrooms, his office, Azriel and Cassian's offices when they're away, supply closets. He doesn't stop until he's tasted you on every surface and in every room.
I wish you luck during the frenzy. He won't stop until you are throughly spent and bred. How else will he ensure you never leave him?
Cassian
He had admired you while you two were growing up together in Windhaven.
He watched you do your chores and got his ass kicked for it more than he wants to admit.
Even at a young age, Cassian courted you. He didn't care that the flowers he was pulling were weeds. He still turned them into a bouquet or had Rhysand's mother weave them into your hair.
That didn't change as you two grew older together. By 18, it was known you were his, and by that point, everyone knew not to fuck with what's Cassian's.
He wouldn't touch you until your chores were done, wanting to spare you what little pain he could from your father's heavy hand.
Cassian wasn't respectful with his hand placement. The male has always had high sex drive, and he found his match in you.
You and Cassian shamelessly fucked in places that had your dear mother crying. The weapon storage shed. The forest. The mess hall once it was empty.
It was no shock to anyone, especially not you and Cassian, when the bond snapped right as he was leaving for the first war with Hybern.
When he came home to you and took you to Velaris, all bets were off. Rhys settled you two into the House of Wind, Azriel into the Riverhouse, and he took the townhouse.
The two of them never flew to the House of Wind without warning you or Cassian first. To do so had them risking walking in on you riding or Cassian with his head thrown back as you screamed for him.
Cassian can't stop touching you. He can't stop talking about you. He can't stop being in love with you. Even if the only way he knows how to show it is physically.
Not that you're complaining. You didn't need to walk anywhere today.
Azriel
Azriel worshipped you the second Rhysand's mother brought you back to the cabin.
Your voice became salvation, your scent became home, and your hands healed part of him he did not even know was broken.
The bond snapped young for you two. He had just turned 18, and you were still 16. He took his distance then, allowing you to explore the world much to your own protests. You understood why after two years.
It was the most selfless thing anyone had ever done for you. He allowed you to grow without his influence, despite how painful it had to have been watching you with other males.
Your father sees this whole relationship and mateship as a benefit to him alone. He takes you and Azriel to Velaris during the war.
He unknowingly allowed the relationship to go to heights he had already said were off limits to Azriel.
The number of times you had to mask your scent during dinner because a shadow was all too happily playing in your skirts was almost comical.
The relationship between you two is never able to go beyond heated kisses, stolen touches, and lingering glances.
Even in death, Azriel comes to you, speaking to you when he's lost and lonely.
He still obsessed over you, wishing he had more time, wishing he was with you. But the pain lessened.
Being ripped from the Cauldron by Amren was painful and terrifying.
You had a new body, modeled after your old one. You were slightly taller this time, and your face was still able to send males to war.
As much as it pained Azriel, he allowed Rhysand to be the first to you. He allowed your brother to be the one to hold you as you cried, confused and asking where you were. He let Mor go next, then Amren listening as the ancient being told you it was okay and that your purpose was not finished, so she was told to bring you back. Cassian dropped to his knees before you. Holding you as he apologized.
But Azriel waited. He walked beside you in silence as you were taken to the warcamp.
All bets were off once you were in his tent.
You don't know if you rushed to him first or if he came to you, but that reunion kiss was rough. Too much teeth and tongue. Tears falling down both of your faces.
He took things slowly with you. Your first life granted you powers like the world had never seen before, and this time was no different. You could move the stars at will, silence the connect other fae shared with their magic without even having to loosen a breath.
It was final confirmation of what many already knew. Rhysand was high lord due to his cock, not his power, and that sheer fact had Azriel on his knees for you once you were ready.
You are his living goddess, and Azriel is always ready to worship.
Lucien
Eris saved both of you. He had sent you to Spring long before you could be ripped from the market in autumn.
Lucien joined you soon after. Crying to the Mother in gratitude the second you came out from hiding behind Tamlin.
You were a rare breed of lesser fae. Your kind looked similar to the high fae by all means, but your kind had the ability to communicate with every living being.
You knew the names of each tree, of each flower, every critter. You could hear the winds whispers, see the colors he asked you to, and tell them all the meaning.
Your kind had been hunted for years, much like the shadowsingers.
It made Lucien almost unbearable when it came to his protective streak. But so did this new freedom.
Lucien is shamelessly in love with you. As an emissary, he gets to travel places you will never see. But he always brings you something back because you are always on his mind.
He brings you ornaments from Winter, jewelry from Day, sea shells from Summer, clothing from Dawn.
Lucien will speak about you for hours on end. It makes Tamlin crazy at times, but seeing how naturally you two fit together quickly makes the sting of jealousy fade.
Lucien purposes under a willow tree. Your absolute favorite one that you go to for guidance. Even if the bond does not snap, he wants you as his wife.
And boy does being his wife make things interesting.
He is suddenly growling at any male who studies your body for too long. Holding you from behind at all times. Showering you with even more things.
The bond snaps after Amarantha mutilated him. It snapped as you were nursing him back to health. Reminding him his beauty has nothing to do with why you love him, but instead it is his kindness and his soul.
You two become mutually obsessed from that point forward. More often than not, you will send a bird to shit on someone if they harm Lucien in any sense.
You both can not keep your hands to yourself anymore. It was as if that scar actually sealed his place as the most handsome male you had ever laid eyes on.
He sends you away to the forest when the 50 years is coming to a close. Not caring if he dies for it.
You would be his last thought if he did. And during that second trial, you were his only thought.
Everything he had done was for your safety, and if he ever saw you again, he would whisper those one thousand words he wanted to say as he laid between your legs, and he would never let go again.
Eris
Childhood best friends to lovers? Anyone? Anyone?
Well... kind of childhood best friends.
You met Eris when he was 6 and you were 5.
Your parents were one of two shadow hound breeders, and Beron was desperate to get his hands on one of your family's pups specifically.
You had this special talent that you could use from the moment you were able to. You seemed to know which hounds needed to be bred together to create the most powerful litters. And you did it all without inbreeding.
Your family quickly took hold of the other breeder's dogs, and you, your father's pride and joy, made their lives better.
Eris becomes obsessed with you from that day forward, and Beron knows it. Hence why you two are married at the young ages of 18 and 17.
Eris is madly in love and in private is very expressive of that.
He shows his love through praise.
"You look absolutely stunning today, little fox," is a common greeting as he brings you a tray of fresh fruits, eggs, breakfast meat of choice, and toast.
The sap cuts your toast into a heart.
He's a hopeless romantic, and it kills you that no one is able to see how he is with you outside of his mother amd your parents who are waiting for the day they get to go to war for him.
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The second you end up pregnant, Eris's love turned into true obsession and not the healthy normal kind between partners.
He becomes possessive and overprotective. Your suddenly moved to one of his private hunting cabins with a guard detail and private healer assigned to you and you only.
He has to have his hands on you at all times. The only exception is when he is at the Forest House.
It is love. You know that deep down, but Gods, you are lonely.
You understand why this is happening, though, when he shows up beaten and bruised, limping into your arms for any sense of comfort.
His obsession is your safety. The safety of the lives you carry.
Once you birth his twins, the game changes. The obsession is now on him not being able to get enough of your new body.
Your mom body lives rent-free in Eris's mind. He's stroked himself in his office to the thought of your fuller breasts and supple hips more times than he'd like to admit.
He loves to squeeze your hips, loving the soft feel of them.
He would have gone to war for you beforehand. He does it now.
He wants to see a crown of leaves and berries on your head, sparkling but failing in comparison to the gem he has in his bed.
He crowns you high lady during his coronation.
You are his, and he is yours, regardless of that bond never snapping. You two do not need the Mother nor the Cauldron to decide you are each other's equal and other halves. You already know.
Tamlin
You knew you were Tamlin's mate long before Amarantha. You were a well kept secret, hidden out of fear of Rhysand coming to take you as well.
You made home in The Middle. Becoming friends with the Weaver was interesting, but you two forged a relationship. You bring her food, she offers protection, so yes. You kept her fed.
Tamlin comes back for the second he allows Rhysand to take Feyre.
You two spend the week she is there in bed, fucking like rabbits until he was content.
It's dead silence when Feyre comes back. He had expected Rhysand to keep her, not hold up his end of the bargain, and he also believed their relationship to be over.
Rhys was an idiot if he thought Tamlin couldn't scent the mating bond. He was willingly handing her over, and the High Lord had to aggressively whisper that to Rhys one night in his office to get it through the other male's thick skull.
It took Tamlin tugging the bond for you for Rhysand to understand.
The Lord of Night was almost disgusted by the love and mutual need you and Tamlin shared. He felt the two of you marked him in the scent of roses and petrichor.
The two of them sat Feyre down 3 days later, and she eagerly went to Night after Tamlin finally got her to understand that while he loves her, he cannot help her and love her the way Rhys will be able to.
That freed you two up, much to Ianthe's anger, to make up for lost time all over again.
He lives between your thighs. No one can change my mind, but Tamlin is a munch, and he cannot get enough of the taste of you.
When you find out Ianthe put her hands on him, on Rhysand, on Lucien you and Feyre become a force. Ianthe selling Feyre's sisters to Hybern had been enough for you and Tamlin to begin the process of banishing her. But much to Tamlin's delight, this made you feral.
Feyre crippled the priestess, and you dragged her by her bleach and tone blonde hair to the Weaver, smiling to Stryga.
"Feyre's apology present for stealing the ring, dear friend." Feyre held a breath, fingers squeezing your wrist as the Weaver moved, scenting Ianthe's fear, blood, and tears.
"And what is this?"
The two of you look at each other, mirrored cruel smiles before speaking in unison, "Dinner."
Tamlin, Lucien, and Rhysand watched from a distance as Feyre retreated to them, and you stayed to ensure the priestess did not somehow escape. "I can see why you love her," Rhysand started slowly. "She's-"
"Everything," Tamlin stated softly. "She is everything."
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springcourtrose · 9 months ago
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Please, stop... | Part 1
Pairing: Helion x reader (x Nessian)
Warnings: abusive relationship and descriptions of SA - MINORS DNI
Prompt: you’re Nesta and Cassian’s mate and yet you are so different from them. From day 1 you tried to be a good mate and do as they wanted and liked but they like it rough and you just don’t. Not only is it not enjoyable for you it is actually painful. And not just in bed. You always excused their behavior as being overprotective but recently you started calling it something else: controlling. And one night, all changed as you uttered the words you had tried so hard never to say, but always thinking if you ever did they would listen. But they didn’t. And that night, everything broke.
(A/N: it's my first time writing for ACOTAR - English isn't my first language)
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Please, stop.
You couldn't remember exactly how many times you had said it. It hadn't mattered. You weren't sure if they just didn't hear you or didn't care. You couldn't bring yourself to think they had just ignored it, ignored you. But you didn't know if the alternative was better. Maybe they just didn't care.
You cried and Nesta called you a brat. You asked them to stop the first time and Cassian shoved his large cock down your throat to shut you up.
You had almost passed out then. Not because of the way you were choking on his hard length but because you had asked them to stop and they hadn't listened. They had ignored you. They had kept going.
You were crying and begging and it just didn't register. Like it didn't matter. Like you didn't matter. All that mattered was them and their pleasure.
They had gone to bed after they were done, leaving you to care for yourself. And it was then, when you were sitting in that cold bath alone, that you realized. Your mates didn't love you. They loved each other, but you were nothing more than a sex toy to them. You who had tried so hard to be a good mate. Nesta had called you a brat and a bad girl. You who had tried so hard to please them and give them whatever they wanted. It hadn't mattered. They would have taken it anyway, no matter what you wanted.
Your heart broke. You wondered if they felt it through the bond. They didn't stir from their sleep.
You silently exited the bath and put on clean clothes. You packed lightly and quietly and didn't look back at your mates before stepping out of the bedroom.
You went to Azriel, because you really didn't have any other choice. Azriel never asked too many questions. It was as much a quality as it was a flaw. That first time he saw your bruised neck for example, he didn't say a thing. Nor did he mention it the second time, or inquire after your well being the third time. He never asked. Because it wasn't his business. But Mor never mentioned it either. Neither did Feyre or Rhys. Your friends, your family. They all had seen it at one point or another. The bruises. The look in your eyes. The flinching when either of your mate raised their voices or got anywhere close to you.
Nesta and Cassian like it rough. That was the end of it.
Azriel brought a dagger to your throat as you approached him. That didn't surprise you. You apologized for waking him up and asked him if he could do you a favor, no questions asked. You weren't sure he would. His loyalties would remain with Cassian. But, maybe it was the look in your eyes, maybe it was the tears, maybe it was the bruises, or the sound of your broken and desperate voice, but when you asked him to bring you to the Day Court in the middle of the night, he had just looked at you and your packed bag for a few seconds, then silently nodded.
Helion wasn't mad you had his guards wake him up at 2AM. No, Helion was concerned. Even more so when he saw you. You knew you probably looked exactly like you felt. Like complete and utter shit.
Helion had always been nice to you. What was there not to like? You were smart, gentle, caring and beautiful. You had similar interests and powers and had become good friends while doing some research with his healers when you were looking for a way to help Feyre when she was pregnant with Nyx.
Helion had become a true friend. The only one you had left after Nesta and Cassian had restricted your outings so much your old friends had more or less forgotten about you.
Helion made you feel safe. You had nowhere else to go.
He opened his mouth, but you spoke first.
"I request asylum."
Both males stilled. Your small and weak voice broke as you said the words but they had heard you loud and clear. You had never seen Azriel so surprise. You wondered if he would try and take you back to the Night Court by force.
"What?" was all Helion managed to say.
"I ask for refuge in your court, please," you said, voice trembling, tears filling your eyes.
"What happened?" he asked, hurrying towards you, checking you for any injury, eyeing you from head to toe, noticing the bruises on your face and neck.
"Please," you begged, falling apart, your knees giving up on you as you collapsed at his feet.
He knelt before you, taking you in his arms.
"What happened?" he asked again, but not to you.
Azriel's face was grave. He knew exactly what had happened. You'd had enough. You'd reached your breaking point. Like he knew this would happen. And yet he had done nothing.
You were sobbing in the High Lord's arms and he embraced you gently, running a hand up and down your back.
"Please," your voice nothing but a whisper. "I request asylum."
Helion's eyes landed on Azriel once more and the High Lord's silence had you panic.
"Please!"
"Granted," he said and you fell apart once more.
You buried your face in his lap, letting your cries and tears flow out of you. Helion looked at Azriel like he would tear him apart, as if he were the one who had hurt you.
"Y/N is now under the protection of my court. Inform your High Lord as soon as possible."
Azriel paused, as if considering not leaving you here, no doubt thinking about his brother, your mate. But, eventually, he nodded.
"Take care of her," was all he said before he vanished.
And as the spymaster disappeared, leaving you behind, your broken cries filled the halls of the Day Court.
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dippedinmelancholy · 3 months ago
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TW: Discussions of SA, consequences, and shit men interacting with women who have been sexually abused. I've been toying with this for a while, trying to find the answer for it on my own but I just can't seem to. Why does SJM treat SA so horrendously? All of her series have this underlying theme feminism, finding your strength, fighting back, ect. Which, on the surface, is amazing. Except multiple women have histories of either straight up SA'd or have endured something that is very much an allegory of SA. Lydia - CC3 Lydia is repeatedly SA'd by her partner, something she doesn't fight back against as it's part of her double agent business. This is an on screen example of very near martial rape. He's violent with her, only put off by her monthly cycle. Ruhn gets hints of it, but there's no denying his knowledge of her pain and her many years of abuse. The first time he and Lydia connect as a couple sexually, despite having this knowledge, he shows her no softness. Lydia herself has no issue with this. There's no sensual connection, no refutal that they don't need sex to care for one another, they don't need sex to seal their relationship. No character development for Ruhn who up to this point has been a borderline sex crazed frat boy. The sex is intense, and though it lacks hard violence, the undertones of ferocity are there. Nesta - ACOSF
Nesta is a victim of SA, something only Cassian has picked up clues on. First, she is assaulted by her fiance of the time. Then, she is violently assaulted by the Cauldron, because she fights back. If she had been a "good girl" and just taken the Cauldron's attention rather than fight back and try to escape, her abuse would not have been so bad, something that very easily and so very clearly translates to real world victims. Then, she is assaulted by the Kelpie. He wishes to make her his "bride", dragging her to a watery death where dozens of women before have died as well. It isn't spelled out for us, but any person with two brain cells can put it together. What do monstrous men do with their brides? What is the role and purpose of a bride? He too assaults her, and plans to rape her. Then, she encouters Lanthys who plans to make her his Queen to rule the world, and forces images into her mind, showing her exactly how he will take and taste her body. Four moments of sexual assault. Three from other worldly, mind breaking evil entities. The Cauldron is just as vile as the other two, corrupted by the Asteri and taking pleasure in hurting Nesta. Again, again, again, Cassian is confronted with instances of Nesta being violated. Again, again, again, he knows the way she has been sexually assaulted, sees how she tries to cope and fails horribly. And yet, how does every sexual encounter go? He is intense. He is borderline violent sexually, though he'd never raise a hand to her. He has no care to give her softness. He practically punishes her for calling it "just sex" despite her being a 20 something scared woman who's never had an impactful relationship where her body wasn't something to be traded and yielded like a fortune of gold, and him being a 500 yr old man who is supposedly supposed to understand women and be more emotionally mature/understanding than Rhysand or Azriel. The men, Fenris/Rhysand - ToG
Fenris and Rhysand too suffer from SA, both from the hands of powerful, cruel mistresses they are "serving" to protect someone they love. These two men are granted space to hurt, to cry, to not know what they want. The fandom in turn is soft with them. The text is sexually soft with Rhysand, though there's no sexual focus with Fenris (which is completely fine, his friendship with Aelin is powerful enough to me). Feyre is soft and understanding with Rhysand, as she should be, yet I can't help but notice this very obvious and stark difference. The Difference
Why are the women treated and written this way? Why are they given no softness, no space to not know what they want? Why are they not given partners who have the bare minimum sense to not rail them like a pornstar? As a victim of SA myself, I'm very much in favor of women reclaiming their sexuality and finding power in it. But there's no journey for these women, no healing. They simply are 'fine' in every sexual moment for their partners, because why would a woman be anything but a wet, willing hole for their partners? Moments after Cassian breaks Nesta wholly, when she was seconds away from jumping from the side of a cliff, he fucks her. She breaks down, sobbing and utterly alone, abused emotionally and physically by HIS HAND, and he fucks her. He tells her it will be fine because he suffered hundreds of years ago, and look, he's great! After all, half of the fandom collectively agrees Nesta should be grateful for being boiled alive, retorn and violated on every possible level. All because she happens to be cruel at times, she isn't a perfect victim, and why should she have any pain when Cassian is right there? All that matters is his wet cock.
There is a constant underlying theme here, across all of the series, all focused on the women, and an obvious opinion and writing habit. If you brush this off as 'it's just a book', I would like to remind you that most of the ACOTAR fanbase are women, young women who are often in their first or second relationship and just now understanding what they should accept in their relationships. It makes me very concerned for Gwyn, who has the most violent and tragic SA history. It makes me concerned for all women who don't see the underlying issues here. At it's core though, it just makes me sad.
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litnerdwrites · 7 months ago
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"Nesta is Illyrian. Elain is Elain."
I'm sorry, did he just use his mother's people, Azriel and Cassian's people, his people, as a derogatory term? No wonder the Illyrians don't like him, if he casually says things like this. No wonder other characters thing negatively of Illyrians when their HL, and half Illyrian himself, who supposedly loves his Illyrian mother and sister, uses them as an insult.
Even if you don't like Nesta, you can't seriously stand there and tell me this isn't a fucked up thing to say, especially with the oppression Illyrian women face. Yet we're still expected to believe that Rhysand is the Feminist, anti racist, anti classist king that we all love? Hell no. In what universe is what he said not racist?!
Then there's the... entire plot of ACOSF. They abused and beat her until she learned to just take it, and consider it a form of love as opposed to what it really is. The same way that Illyrian women are beaten and abused their whole lives, until they eventually have no choice but to accept the abuse that they've been dealt with.
To add a cherry onto the sundae of fucked up behaviour, the bat boys swear up and down that they aren't anything like the abusive assholes in Illyria and would never accept that kind of behaviour.
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acourtofthought · 2 months ago
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TLDR; Because people have gone so far left, they've gone right. Their "wokeness" has led them to completely disregard someone's trauma in the bigger picture. They seem to think Elriels are using Gwyn's SA as a reason Gwynriel can't happen, when Elriels are just trying to be respectful and patient with Gwyn's own trauma to allow her to show some interest in someone before we ship her with anyone.
Longer Answer:
To clarify, there is nothing wrong with a survivor of SA wanting to have sex and get into a relationship. How they deal with their trauma is up to them. I've seen some survivors of SA go on a "sleeping with everyone they meet" bender and some people who can't even be around men for a long period of time. Both are heartbreaking but that is how someone deals with their trauma, and it's nobody else's business.
SA is the product of cruel entitlement. It is a real issue, one that's rampant on college campuses, remote villages, even in the highest of corporate offices. That's the harsh reality. It might be presented as a fictional concept in this book, a reason for background trauma - but it is very much real.
To say a survivor of SA cannot go on to have sex or relationships with others is wrong. That implies they are damaged goods or they are weak and broken. That's wrong.
How someone reacts and processes SA trauma is up to them. It's nobody else's business. Their trauma does not define them. But after a traumatic event like that - they have to be the one to make the call of when and if they want to pursue other relationships. On their own timeline.
When it comes to Gwyn, her stans get defensive when they see people say "Gwyn is still healing from SA trauma, I don't think she's ready for a relationship" because they think we're using it as a reason she can't be with Azriel. They think we're saying "Gwyn is damaged and weak, so she can't be with Azriel". They think we regard ALL SA survivors as being unable to carry out a relationship, healthy sex life, real love because their abuse ... and so they get all up in arms -> and honestly I'm with them on that, because THAT is a disgusting take.
But thankfully, no Elriel is saying such a heinous thing.
We are saying Gwyn specifically has not shown signs of healing from that trauma yet. She still can't leave the library at the end of ACOSF, and has once again - just been through another round of trauma in the BR getting almost attacked by a group of bloodthirsty, disgusting males. She hasn't shown any sign of blushing at Azriel or wanting to touch him or sighing after him like the other priestesses - so what is giving people the indication that she has healed from this trauma and is ready for a relationship?
Like, let me put it this way. If I open the next ACOTAR book and it's somehow about Gwyn & Azriel, I still think Gwyn wouldn't be ready to be in a relationship, even if Azriel is her mate. I still think it would take time for her to feel comfortable around men. Even if he were to be her mate ... somehow - I don't think she is going to suddenly flip a switch and have fantasies of him and have them sneak around having sex between the shelves in the library.
I do not think she is there yet. The most "interest" she has shown during sex is when she:
1. Teased Nesta about Cassian (again not talking about her OWN interest)
2. Talked about how her virginity, her ability to participate in the great Rite had been taking away from her by Hybern's men when they SA-ed her. ... (do I even need to explain how this isn't her being ready to have sex ... it's literally her being upset they took yet another thing from her....?)
And then she gets traumatized again from the BR. And then goes back into the library.
Does that sound like someone is well and healed and ready to pursue a relationship?
No. At least not in my opinion. And listen, I could be wrong - I could open the next ACOTAR Book (when I'm 50 at this rate) and it starts of with a graphic sex scene with Gwyn. I'll eat my words then, idc. But I'm saying right now - it doesn't seem to me like Gwyn is ready for ANYONE.
Azriel has nothing to even do with this. There are plenty of reasons Elriels do not believe Gwynriel is a viable pairing - and it has nothing to do with whether Gwyn is ready to be in a relationship or not.
Gwyn's SA trauma is not something I've seen any Elriel bring up as a reason as to why Azriel & Gwyn can't be together. The main reason we don't ship them together is because
1. We didn't see anything romantic between them in the first place
2. We don't believe that they're mates just because of the word "spark"
3. Elain exists, and she is the current object of all of Azriel's affections
Gwyn's trauma does not make the list. I don't even know where this argument came from but I suspect it was somewhere along the lines of "Gwyn & Azriel don't make any sense, I don't think she's even ready for a relationship yet after ACOSF" and the GAs purposefully twisted our words to say "YOU GUYS ARE SAYING SA VICTIMS CANT HAVE RELATIONSHIPS AND THats why you hate Gwynriel!"
Like no, babes. I'll believe Gwyn is ready to pursue a relationship or sex with someone else when she initiates it. It's literally as simple as that 🤷🏻‍♀️
And that goes for all characters, not just victims of SA or other abuse. You can ship whoever you want of course, even if they don't show romantic interest.
But to claim that ship is canon, that ship is going to be endgame - you need to show me in the text where either character shows some romantic attraction to the other.
It's actually a little sad how you come into my anons thinking you're doing me a favor "clearing something up" for me when the reality is that everything you said is completely false while you try so hard to convince yourself it's canon.
Elain is NOT the current object of Az's attention. Was she for the months between the two Solstices? Sure. But Mor was also the object of his attention at the same time. His longing stares at Mor were fewer and farther between however that does not equal zero which means there were still looks being sent her way. He was pissy towards Helion over Mor for heavens sake. However beyond the three days after Solstice there is absolutely no evidence of Elain being the object of Az's interest just as there is absolutely no evidence of Az being the object of Elain's interest. One would say Elain has revoked any consent she offered Az with the return of his gift yet somehow you think it's ok to ship them in a sexual relationship? Or are you of the thought that girls can't retract consent once it's given?
You're splitting hairs. You say it's not right for the fandom to ship a Gwynriel endgame which would include a sexual relationship because Gwyn hasn't specifically stated "I want to hook up with him" or come on to Az yet it's ok for you to push a sexual relationship on Elain that she no longer seems to want. A sexual relationship on Az that he no longer seems to want. The end of SF took place 4 /5 months after Solstice. The events of HOFAS about 7 and there is absolutely no canon evidence that he even thinks of Elain in that way anymore. If you're so sure he's over Mor after longing for her for 500 years then surely it's believable that he's move past a crush he had for a year tops?
Also, if you're fine with fanart / fanfiction of Elain and Az engaging in kinky sex than you're a hypocrite.
Elain was willing to kiss Az but where is the text that proves she was ready to do more than that after she was violated by being put into the Cauldron. You don't even know whether she would have enjoyed the kiss. Had they followed through SHE could have pulled back and said it was a mistake. She could have walked away feeling nothing. Trust me it happens. I spent over a year lusting after a guy but the timing was never right for us. When we finally had our chance it was extremely awkward. For whatever reason the pining for him created more tension and chemistry than the chemistry we actually had together.
Also, you thinking Gwyn isn't ready for a relationship doesn't really matter does it? You can dislike what Sarah writes, you can wish she'd gone in a different direction but your personal feelings play no part in what will actually happen. And when you look at Sarah's writing she clearly has no issues allowing characters to move forward from SA in a shortened timeline (i.e., Rhys with Feyre). It's already been 2 years and 7 months for Gwyn, Rhys ended up mated to Feyre 5 months after his SA. Gwyn doesn't have to show an insatiable desire for sex in Nesta's book when she can simply reveal that in her own. Nobody is acting like it's wrong to ship Emerie and Mor when Emerie wasn't saying things like "damn, I need to get laid."
Gwyn has ABSOLUTELY shown signs of beginning to heal from trauma. She spent two years afraid to be around anyone but those in the library and within a few months of training she was already fine being alone with Az on the rooftop of Solstice evening. How is that not growth? Alone with a man and smiling at him? Sassing him after Solstice rather than pulling even further into herself?
You can sit on your high horse and proclaim you need the text to support Gwyn's feelings on the situation before you're "ok" with it and that's fine, you do you. But let's not pretend you actually give a shit about an imaginary character who has no actual feelings when real life survivors will tell you they're inspired by the thought of a Gwynriel endgame yet you care little about what they have to say.
Especially when you're the same people who ship Vassa and Lucien despite us having no idea whether Vassa prefers men or women. Despite Lucien having also been SA yet you've got no problem convincing yourselves he desires Vassa, will end up with Vassa, despite him only showing longing for Elain (his mate). So no, it does not appear you actually need confirmation of romantic interest before proclaiming them canon or endgame.
Also, it's ok that you don't see the potential romantic setup for Gwynriel right now despite so many that do. Surprises are part of the fun of reading, right?
But as things currently stand Az and Gwyn's "non interest" in one another seems to hold a lot more potential than "he hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to".
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cheynovak · 11 days ago
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The Shadows' Touch
Intro / part 1
Aziel x Y/N fae female
Summary: Y/N, a fae from the Night Court, prefers the solitude of books and sunsets over the bustling life of Velaris, hiding from her traumatic past. Azriel, notices her one winter by the sea and becomes quietly captivated by her, though she never seems to acknowledge him.
Warnings: mentioning of abuse
English isn't my first language
Please do not copy my work. Likes/Comments/Sharing are appreciated
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Y/N sat in her small, shadowy corner of the world, hidden from the glamor and chaos of Velaris. She wasn’t like the other fae of the Night Court who thrived in the limelight. Her solace came in the form of ink-stained pages and the quiet sunsets she watched from the jagged rocks by the sea. Her existence had always been one of quiet resilience. It wasn’t her choice to fade into the background—it was survival.
Azriel had noticed her last winter. The spymaster of the Night Court rarely allowed himself such indulgences as fascination, but there was something about her. The way her hair caught the dying light of the setting sun, the serene expression on her face as she watched the waves, or the way she seemed untouchable, like a living shadow. Azriel found himself returning to the sea more often than he cared to admit, watching her from afar as if her presence soothed something deep within him.
But she never seemed to notice him. Not once.
That night, at Rita’s, Azriel had reluctantly joined Cassian and Mor. The bustling music and chatter grated on his nerves, and he cursed their persistence in dragging him there. But then, as his shadows whispered in delight, he saw her. Sitting at a small table, her nose buried in a book, she seemed untouched by the noise around her.
Azriel was usually adept at concealing his emotions, but his eyes betrayed him, lingering on her too long.
Mor, always one to meddle in matters of the heart, grinned knowingly when she caught him staring. She nudged Cassian, sharing a wordless plan.
“Az, it’s your turn to grab drinks,” Mor declared, loud enough to draw his attention.
Azriel sighed but obeyed, weaving his way through the crowd. As he passed her table, he felt her presence more keenly than anything else in the room. But just as he returned with the drinks, Cassian’s "accident" sent a pint flying in her direction.
The amber liquid soaked her book, splattering onto her clothes. As Azriel cought the flying pint, the ones on his plate fell.
Azriel’s heart sank.
“Oh, I’m so, so sorry,” he apologized immediately, his voice softer than he intended. His eyes drifted over her to the book she was holding.
She stood abruptly, eyes wide with alarm, her hands clutching the ruined book. For a fleeting moment, their eyes met. Azriel thought he saw something—a flicker of recognition, a thread of connection—but it vanished as quickly as it came. Without a word, she turned and fled the tavern.
Cassian’s laughter echoed behind him. “I can’t believe that worked.”
Azriel didn’t respond. He left the drinks on the table and pushed his way outside, scanning the dark streets of Velaris, but she was gone.
**Y/N’s POV**
Tears blurred her vision as she walked away from Rita’s, her ruined book clutched to her chest. She hated herself for the panic that overtook her the moment she saw him up close. Azriel, the shadowed spymaster of the Night Court, the one tasked with protecting them.
But Y/N didn’t see a protector when she looked at him. She saw the Illyrian male who had haunted her childhood, the one who had broken her and left her retreating into shadows and stories.
She barely remembered how she got home, her mind a storm of fear and shame. Once inside, she stripped off her damp clothes and stepped into the bath, trying to wash away the lingering tension. But her thoughts kept circling back to the soft apology in Azriel’s voice, the sincerity in his golden-brown eyes.
When a knock came at the door, she froze.
Peeking through the crack, she saw a flash of blue siphons and dark hair. Azriel.
“Hi,” he said, his voice tentative, almost shy.
Y/N tried to shut the door, but his foot stopped it.
“I, uh, brought you your book.” He held out a book.
She hesitated, eyeing it warily. “T-this isn’t mine,” she stammered.
A small smile touched his lips, a faint thing that barely reached his eyes. “No, it’s my copy. The stores are closed, and since I ruined yours…” He trailed off awkwardly, holding it out further. “You can have it.”
She took the book gingerly, her fingers brushing his hand for the briefest moment. He stepped back, sensing her unease, but not before adding softly, “I’m sorry for earlier.”
As he turned to leave, Y/N surprised herself. “Thank you,” she said.
Azriel stopped, looking back at her. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to still. Their gazes locked, and Y/N felt something stir—a crack in the walls she’d built around herself.
“I, uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking unsure. “I hope I’ll see you around.”
Before she could respond, he vanished into the night, leaving her standing in the doorway with his book pressed to her chest.
For the first time in a long while, Y/N felt something other than fear.
Curiosity.
---
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ACOTAR: @mich0731 @winchesterwild78 @paintedbyshadows @lilah-asteria @nancymcl @hobby27 @kindollss @shadysoulangel
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fenrysmoonbeamswife · 1 month ago
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I think one of the worst parts of Nessian and the abuse that Cassian has and does put Nesta through is that SJM isn't framing it as what it is.
She still frames it as Nesta being in the wrong, she still portrays Cassian as wholesome and good.
She isn't going to have Nesta call him out, she isn't going to have Nesta leave him to find what she deserves, it's just Feyre and Rhysand all over again.
HOFAS gave me some hope but my faith in her is at .03637494%
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themildestofwriters · 4 months ago
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Elain Week, I gotta ask, and this is a genuine question: Does this mean Feyre, Rhysand, Cassian, Nesta, Father Archeron, Mother Archeron, among others aren't being officially endorsed alongside Tamlin and Beron by this event? Or... what? What's the criteria a character needs to fulfil before they're officially soft-banned from this appreciation week?
I've seen many express that they found Feyre's behaviour in WAR triggering, discomforting, one going as far as to label it "retaliatory abuse." Rhysand is a contentious character because of his torture and sexual abuse of Feyre in ACOTAR, and we all know how controversial his actions in ACOSF were. I know people who have called Cassian's treatment of Nesta in ACOSF abusive (alongside her treatment by the wider Inner Circle). We know for certain that people consider Nesta abusive, too, for her actions during Feyre's childhood. Of course, people can disagree about whether these characters are abusive, but that doesn't erase the fact that people do genuinely have visceral reactions to these characters.
Will these people's comfort be taken into account or not? If not, why not? Must these characters be classified as abusive by the author to count? If so... why? If this is truly about making this event as comforting and safe for fans to enjoy Elain content, why aren't these characters soft-banned from the event?
Would it not be a better idea to just let the participants and viewers of this event self-regulate? Maintain that all entries into the event be tagged correctly and implore those who find certain characters discomforting to block those tags? We're all adults. Should we not be responsible for what content we engage with?
This is ACOTAR. If you're old enough to read it, you're old enough to deal with a character you find discomforting being portrayed in a positive manner. And Elain isn't real. You're not respecting her by soft-banning Tamlin from the event, especially not if you allow her to be depicted with others who have abused, and have even abused her sisters at that. It's low-key insulting, really.
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lainalit · 7 months ago
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Isn't it quite interesting that every female character in acotar who was abused/traumatized can only feel empowered by becoming a warrior? 🤔
Feyre gets training from cassian and becomes a warrior, mor trained and becomes a warrior, nesta gets training from cassian and azriel and becomes a warrior, emerie trains and becomes a warrior, gwyn trains and becomes a warrior and Illyrian women are getting training to become warriors. I also see some people wanting Elain to train and become a spy
Funny how the stans are saying the series is feminist when the only depiction of empowerment for women in the series is the girlboss hollywood archetype💀
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extremely-judgemental · 3 months ago
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How convenient Feyre doesn't have a single memory or glimpse of how Rhysand abused her for two months though she was drugged but her memories weren't taken away. Her body doesn't recognise his touch as danger and isn't repulsed by him. Her trauma hasn't left a mark on her mind and body.
How convenient Feyre's PTSD is about being locked up in a cell and not the man who tortured and broke her hand forcing her into a bargain. Her nightmares are filled with the creatures that abused her once and threatened to spit roast her but not of the man who touched her and kissed her without consent and paraded her naked.
How convenient Feyre goes back to using sex as a crutch with Tamlin and later with Rhysand when it was the very thing that was used against her UtM. Her body readily wants a man's touch right after her rebirth.
How convenient Lucien is the only source of information who told Feyre what was done to her. He is also the most considerate and sweetest friend she ever had. He could have withheld some of that trauma to spare her the humiliation and heartbreak.
How convenient Feyre and Tamlin agreed never to speak of what happened UtM. Feyre doesn't understand how Tamlin's rage extends beyond his possessiveness. For her to turn a blind eye and blame him when they won't even talk about it.
How convenient every HL wants to hold Rhysand accountable for the very things he explicitly claimed to be remorseful of (Winter children massacre) and not the other atrocities he participated or committed in the fifty (or 500) years.
How convenient the HLs are polite enough to not ask Feyre how she forgave Rhysand after he SA'd her every night and willingly plays his whore whenever he wants.
How convenient the HLs don't ask if Feyre is also being mind controlled by Rhysand when he proved his strength by taking over Tamlin's mind in front of everyone.
How convenient every HL forgive Rhysand and Feyre for every mistake they ever made and make compromises throughout but never expect anything in return. How convenient mere 'sorry' always seems to be enough when their courts are suffering because of IC.
How convenient Tamlin insults Feyre but doesn't ask how she accepted her abuser as her mate when she accuses him of the same (sometimes worse) too.
How convenient Lucien is so charmed by the beauty of Velaris that he understands why Feyre left Spring for it but doesn't hold a grudge for what she did to his home.
How convenient Nesta, who's been SA'd twice, never finds out her baby sister also went through the same and is in love with the perpetrator. She never finds out the baby she saved is the child of Feyre's abuser.
How convenient Rhysand and Feyre agreed to deal with their trauma in secrecy. No one in Velaris ever finds out what truly happened UtM.
How convenient 'We save abused priestesses together' Morrigan or 'Careful how you speak about my High Lady' Azriel or 'No male better than Rhys' Cassian never find out how Rhysand hurt Feyre.
How convenient Rhysand himself was SA'd over and over again and so it's all fine to do the same to Feyre.
How convenient what happened UtM stays UtM.
How fucking convenient.
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gwandas · 5 months ago
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Alright, time to elaborate on that other post. Elain by far has had the most free will, the most agency out of the three sisters. Elain stans love to say Nesta coddles her when the reality is Nesta consistently relents to what Elain chooses for herself.
In ACOMAF, Nesta doesn't agree at first to Feyre's request to use their house because she doesn't want to compromise Elain's engagement. Elain is the one to push back, and Nesta relents immediately. What Nesta thinks is best doesn't take precedence over Elain's wants.
We know that Nesta doesn't approve of Greyson. She agrees with Cassian that Elain deserves better, but what Nesta thinks is best doesn't take precedence over Elain's wants.
In ACOWAR, Elain is catatonic. If anything, she should be coddled here. Her and Elain were stuck with these strangers for months. Strangers who were also the people who got them into that mess in the first place. Finally, Feyre shows up to help Nesta figure out how to help their sister. Madja is brought in, who recommends Lucien try to figure it out since they're mates. Nesta pushes back in what might arguably be coddling to keep Lucien from Elain. Feyre tells her to shut the fuck up and let Lucien try. And what do you know? She relents again -- What Nesta thinks is best is ignored because Nesta doesn't have any power in this situation.
In ACOFAS, Nesta has pushed Elain away at this point. She tells her “You have your life, I have mine." That's more or less Nesta saying do whatever tf you want Elain it's not my business. Not coddling!
In ACOSF, ohhh the infamous scene when Elain finally develops a personality starts coming out of her shell. Please try to remember at this point, Nesta has been locked in a house and barely sees Elain. The IC doesn't give a fuck about what Nesta wants for this whole book—Why would they choose now to listen to her? Literally everyone except Azriel agrees that Elain should be able to scry if she wants to. It would literally be easier for the IC to let Elain do it over waiting for Nesta who didn't want to do it.
"Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can't have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater."
Elain says all this and then... goes back to "tend to her little garden." It's a toothless moment. Elain stans would rather blame Nesta for coddling her than consider that maybe Elain just didn't try very hard to take on some responsibility for her sister who was supposed to be in "rehab." It sounds fucking stupid in the context that Elain hasn't seen Nesta at all between ACOFAS and ACOSF -- Nesta physically isn't around to coddle her. Elain doesn't contribute because she chooses not to or because the IC simply doesn't ask her to. We don't have any context for what she's been up to aside from some vague comments about lying about gardening or whatever Cassian said.
Amren admits that they're using Elain to manipulate Nesta. There was zero practical reason for them to do this other than because they care more about Elain's safety than Nesta's safety. The IC are the ones who have the power to "hold Elain back," not her sister who is locked in a house and never sees her—The IC could easily say fuck you to Nesta and have Elain do it. They didn't even need to bring Nesta into this conversation!! They could've gone to Elain first!!
Some Elain stans want so badly for Nesta to be the thing holding Elain back and it's very transparent to me. I have seen people go so far as to blame Nesta for Elain's uselessness in the cabin and that Nesta abused her too—sorry, what? I mean nice try, but Elain already admitted to being just as neglectful, and not even because she was genuinely remoseful towards Feyre—She said that shit to defend Nesta from Cassian.
I'm not even saying Elain isn't coddled but Nesta sure as fuck isn't the one doing it. Nesta doesn't even have her own free will how the fuck is she supposed to take away someone else's? Nesta choosing to do things so Elain doesn't have to isn't coddling. It's well established that if Nesta couldn't successfully scry, they would've gone to Elain, which means Nesta never had the power to stop Elain from scrying. Nesta has never tried to take away Elain's free will and even if she wanted to, she has no power to do that.
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readychilledwine · 9 months ago
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Small World Pt 2
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Summary - After discovering you and Azriel share much more than a mating bond, your relationship grows stronger as tensions between you and your aunt seem to grow higher.
Warnings - implied emotional and mental abuse, second child syndrome in a not good way, we find out Nyx is an asshole, unrequited love, slight smut, use of daddy
A/n - a potentially cliff hanger ending because I haven't decided 100% how this ends
Peep Part 1 Here 💙
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Azriel stared at the dress box sitting on Rhysand's desk and nicely folded Illyrian leathers. He couldn't remember the last time he had worn them. The last time he had used a siphon. The leathers were fitted for 7, something Azriel immediately knew would no longer work.
His powers after removing the precious stones had gone wild. His shadows were different now. They were more aware, able to span wider distances, and able to recruit more shadows into his network to join them.
He had spent 5 years alone meditating and learning even more control over them, over what they could do, over how deadly they actually could be.
7 siphons would not be enough.
And he didn't understand how Rhysand did not see that.
He finally spoke, gesturing to the box. "What is this?"
Rhys was settled in his chair, trying to maintain his composure as Cassian stood near the bookshelf to mediate if needed. "We're going to the Court of Nightmares. My daughter's engagement has spread like wildfire, and dear Keir wants to host a party in her honor."
A breathy chuckle left Azriel's lips before he could stop it. "So my fiancée will be dressed like a goddess while I am in leathers at a party to mock us?"
Cassian shifted slightly. "We've always worn leathers to Hewn City, Az. It's to honor our heritage." Rhys just inclined his head to Cassian and nodded. "Y/n wears leathers."
"She has never worn a single set in the 2 years we've been together. There isn't even a set in her closet."
"There's several sets in her closet here," Rhys said quietly. "All set up for pink siphons. 14 of them." Cassian and Azriel couldn't help their chuckles. "Imagine a blonde Illyrian with pink siphons, Azriel, its quite the sight." Rhys smiled fondly, eyes glimmering with pride despite everything. "She's-" he looked up, searching for the perfect word for his daughter. "She's my everything. And I've done a horrible job showing her that."
Azriel sucked in a deep breath. "I won't mediate this, Rhys. This is a you two thing. Not an us three thing."
Azriel knew now why you were estranged from your family. Nyx was their golden child. Constantly praised, admired, in the spotlight. He was, and still is, their reminder of how they had almost died to pass along their love. He could do no wrong, never be wrong, and was treated as such.
You, on the other hand, were the second child. The significantly younger one Nyx learned to plant blame on and watch as you were scolded and seen as "the problem" as you had told him you were now addressed as in Hewn City and Illyria. You had been raised by Ness more than Feyre and Rhys, passed off to them until your powers bloomed at 16, and suddenly your father found you interesting again. With a lack of a spymaster, he exploited you, forcing you to touch people and feel their emotions, when they lied, their stories. Forcing you to live trauma over and over of females clipped in the mountains, of tortured traitors in dungeons, of Nesta's dark phase.
You locked your powers so far away one day, so deep inside you that even you hardly could access them unless you actually wanted to. It had been just before your 18th birthday that happened. And then the fight that sealed the casket happened. Rhys had verbally lashed you. Attacked you for refusing to let him use your "one worth" to keeping his family and court safe.
Your father had said he saw you as useless, and everyone else just stood by watching.
Like they had with Nesta.
Only you were just a child. Not a head strong warrior, a goddess in fae form.
You packed the basics and spent the night on the streets in a dark alley.
Even if you and Rhys magically fixed things, even if you forgave but not forgot, Azriel would never. How you were raised, how you've been treated, it forever will taint his vision of Rhys, Feyre, and Nyx. The abuse they unleashed on you, they'd never make up for.
Rhys nodded, eyes glancing to the doorway as footsteps approached. "I would never ask you to fix my relationship with her when I need to fix my relationship with you as well. I just need you to know I love her. That she will always be my girl."
"You have an odd way of showing her your lo-"
The door opened, and you stepped in, immediately going to Azriel's side and eyeing the box. "Dad. Cassian." You opened the lid and nodded. "Well. At least it's sparkly."
Rhys cocked his head. "You don't like it?"
Azriel watched as you paused. The bond flared with conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, longing. How long had it been since Rhys held you? Since he told you he loved you without you having to earn it. "No, I like it. I just know what this means. You never give me nice things unless Hewn City is involved." The last sentence trailed off quietly, and pain flooded the bond.
Rhys looked down, nodding as he scratched the stubble growing on his face. "I am sorry. I just-"
"Please don't. You never mean it." You grabbed the box. "I will wear it and find jewelry." You turned to Azriel. "Elain would like to speak with you. She said something about a garden you two planned together and how I'll never understand the love you two share. How it breaks bonds and shakes worlds."
The relationship between you and Azriel had been messy since dinner two weeks ago. You two had your first fight over, of course, Elain and her rekindled love, lust, whichever felt appropriate at the moment for Azriel. He ignored the constant letters, the random headache powders, the message coded flowers.
He had reached out to Lucien, asking the male what had happened. According to the new Lord of Day, Elain and he had tried for 5 years, but the damage had been done. Lucien didn't trust Elain, Elain spent most of their time comparing the two of them, and nothing Lucien gave her was enough. He had been the one to reject the bond, and after 7 years, he had found himself heavily involved in a relationship with a now fully fae Vassa and Jurian.
Rhys and Cassian both gave him gentle looks of concern as he held your hand, preventing you from walking away. He stared Rhys in the eyes, doing something he felt Rhysand had never done to prove a point. "I'd rather go home with you, so if you were planning on winnowing, we might as well go together." He picked you.
They watched as all tension left your body, as security eased into your face. "Then let's go home." Azriel grabbed the leathers, nodding to Rhys and Cassian before following you.
Azriel's elbow locked around your neck, hand squeezing your hip as he pinned you below him and continued taking you from behind. You both had no interest in heading to Hewn City, so you had distracted him, walking into your shared bedroom in just a pretty blue silk night gown offering to give your body to him for what he had done, the message he had sent.
You were supposed to be getting ready, but instead, Azriel was growling above you, pumping into you carelessly. Your toes curled at how deep he was hitting, at how good he felt, how good he felt every time. "So close," you whispered. "So fucking close-" You were moaning his name when the knock on the door came.
A shadow rushed to him, curling his ear as he paused. "It's Elain," he muttered. "She's relentless." You whined below him, hips wiggling to get friction back. "Baby,"
"Please," you begged. "It's been weeks, I've been so good, please, daddy."
Azriel felt his cock twitch at the use of the name. He'd longed for a moment to erase the memory of what happened, and you had just given it to him. He felt you moving your hips, doing the best you could while pinned to the mattress to fuck yourself on his cock.
You were his focus, the rest of the world melting away as he heard your moans turning into screams of his name. You sounded so pretty coming for him, crying for him, begging for more for less for everything as oversensitivity took over. You especially looked pretty dripping his seed when he pulled out of you. Once again, he had chosen you.
You two laid there, holding each other until claws came for both of you. Scratching angerly as your mental shields and causing you to bury your head into Azriel's chest. "We need to get ready unless you want him showing up here next," Azriel played with your hair, scratching your scalp lightly. "Let's see how many siphons I blow through."
After 2 sets of siphons being destroyed, you were currently dragging Azriel down the streets of Velaris and to your brother and father's tailor. You knew she'd be able to fit and dress him in seconds and that he'd look every bit handsome as he deserved. You were pissed when you saw he had been gifted Illyrian leathers and not a suit. Your father was out of touch with Azriel. With you.
"Helena," you smiled at the older female. "We need help."
Azriel felt stiff. Staring at the doors of Heen City as a shocked page boy ran to inform Rhys and Feyre of the late arrival. You two were about to upstage them in their own court. The guests of honor arriving late and being introduced after the Lord and his Lady.
You would have upstaged them by yourself anyway, though. Azriel admired you one more time. Rhys had picked well, though you both would never admit it. The dress had a see-through bodice of black lace and floral applicates with thin straps. It led to a satin skirt that was tight and then flared out to your hips. The left leg had a high slit, showing the toned beautiful skin Azriel was begging to cover in his kisses. You had picked a simple necklace, a single tear drop shaped sapphire with matching earring and a matching bracelet. Your ring sat on manicured nails painted a soft shade of pink to white coffin head tips. Heels graced your feet, the red underside flashing when you walked. "Gods, you are stunning," he finally whispered out in a hoarse voice.
"And all yours," you looked at him, adjusting the lapel of his jacket. "Forever." Your mask slipped on as the doors opened, a collective gasp ringing through the room over who was on your arm followed by whispers.
Azriel knew this song and dance, walking you into one thousand eyes staring and gawking. He hated seeing you like this as you were ushered to the dance floor. The first dance of the night had been delayed, and the fae were restless.
Once you were centered on the floor, you turned facing him, eyes cold and distant as you disassociated from this place. He placed a hand on your hip, leaving his other to his side where both of your sat.
It was unfair of Feyre and Rhysand to expect you to do this traditional waltz, but you followed Azriel's steps as the music began, that first note echoing in your bones and soul. Your parents had claimed your first dance with your mate. The first true dance you two would ever share, and it had to be done in front of hundreds of fae who spat your direction when the Lord and Lady were busy.
Azriel had decided he hated this side of you. He was studying you like a project. You were a different female down here. Cold, uncaring, forced into this role of the High Lord's daughter.
Did these fae know you took far too much creamer in your coffee?
That you were afraid of storms?
That you only ate fruit pastries because you found chocolate too bitter?
You were Rhysand through and through with that mask on. But inside, inside Azriel knew you carried the very light of what your grandfather built. You were a true dreamer, and you could rattle the very stars themselves if your father would just give you the chance.
If Rhysand would just believe in you.
Azriel decided in that moment what the answer to your happiness was. He'd take you tonight and you two would leave.
Fuck expectations.
Fuck the rules.
Fuck your family.
Azriel would pick you for the third time today, and you two would leave.
He just had to get you through this visit at Hewn City first, and as he watched Elain shatter a champagne flute in her hands, he knew that was going to be a mission all on its own.
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