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acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year ago

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Goddess — Cassian x Plus-size!Reader

Summary: Just Cass worshiping his gorgeous, gorgeous mate.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Pretty much pwp. Adult Content, 18+, minors dni. 🫶🏻

You can hear him, scent him, from down the hall.

He approaches your shared bedroom with firm, purposed footsteps. His shoes slam against the wooden floor with every great stride he takes. He’s not graceful like some males are. There’s a raw ruggedness to every movement; the swirling storm of somebody who will never be light nor lithe on their feet. But the charged, almost frantic energy with which he does everything is, undeniably, one of your favourite things about him.

The door bursts open, and Cassian enters.

He’s flushed and sweaty like he always is after training, strands of hair hanging down from where they’ve ripped free from the knot at the nape of his neck. He brushes them back with a large, callused hand, and takes in the sight of you sprawled on your bed, an open book perched on your lap.

He’s always a little wild and frenetic, an animal that can’t be tamed, but this morning — this morning, it seems…extreme. A fire burns in his hazel eyes, and he licks his lips and rolls his shoulders as though there’s too much tension in them.

“How was training?” You ask casually, thumbing through your book.

“Fuck training.” Is all Cassian offers, and then he’s clambering onto the bed and folding his body over yours. “C’mere.”

He dips his head, clearly intent on capturing you in a kiss. But before it can land, your palm is in his face, pushing him away.

“Take your shoes off before you get on the bed, Cass.” You complain. “You’re all sweaty, too.”

A wicked grin tugs his lips up. He kicks his shoes off without sparing them a glance, and then he’s prowling back towards you. “You love it.”

Before you can respond, his mouth is slanting over yours in a deep kiss. His tongue immediately probes your mouth, and a deep groan rumbles in his chest.

“I couldn’t concentrate.” He huffs onto your mouth, hands moving up to your breasts. He gives a gentle squeeze. “I kept thinking about these.”

Immediately, your back arches into the touch. You tug your mouth off of his and cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “I’m not sure that’s part of the regime.”

“No it absolutely is not. But it still didn’t stop me thinking of them. Of everything I had waiting for me back here. This,” he moves down, pressing a kiss to the soft, pudgy flesh of your belly, “Mother above, I love this. And these,” his palms slip under your thighs, “I could spend all fucking day kissing these.”

He loves your thighs — has a real fascination with them. He loves touching them, stroking them, kissing them. Loves slotting himself between them. And fuck, he loves — is obsessed, even — with watching the way they rub together through your breeches while you walk. The way fabric hugs them and outlines their shape. The silvery stretch marks that create patterns in your skin and — rather conveniently — draw a path that snake up right to the creases between your legs. Yeah — he really, really loves those.

“I can’t imagine Azriel was all too impressed with your distraction.” You smile down at your mate, raking your fingers through his hair.

He growls softly, gently nips the flesh of one thigh, exposed beneath the shirt that you shucked on to lounge in — Cassian’s shirt. “I don’t want to hear another male’s name on those pretty lips right now.” He murmurs. “Only mine.”

“Jealous, jealous male.”

“Always.” His fingers are finding their way under the shirt, and he’s tugging it up, exposing more of you as you allow him to peel it from your skin. He chucks it behind him without giving it another thought, and then his eyes are devouring you.

Naked, now, except for your undergarments, Cassian can see everything from your full breasts to your soft tummy to your chubby thighs, and every dip, swell and crevice in between.

It’s taken you a while to make peace with the fact that you do not have the figure of the other females in Rhysand’s Inner Circle — and to realise that that is in no way a bad thing. That having a different body to them doesn’t mean having a lesser body than them. That yours is just as beautiful as theirs are — in a different way.

And having Cassian, the brilliant Illyrian general, worship you from head to toe every. single. day, most certainly helps.

Such heat flares in his gaze, now, as he drinks you in, that it’s almost too much to watch.

“You’re unreal,” he pants, despite no real exertion — yet. “I am so not worthy of you.”

“You’re more than worthy—”

“You’re a goddess. An actual fucking goddess.”

His mouth meets yours again, but it isn’t staying there long. He slots himself between those thighs he loves so much, his fingers biting into the generous flesh as he kisses his way along your jaw and down your neck, over your chest, down to the swells of your breasts. His tongue immediately flicks over one of your nipples, and you sigh at the sensation.

“I’ve never needed anyone or anything like I need you.” His mouth closes over your breast, a harsh suck puckering the flesh. “All,” he moves to the other breast, “the damn,” another suck, “time.”

“Cass,” you breathe, pleasure rolling down your spine. You need…something, anything — him.

“On it, sweetheart.” He says, and his kisses continue downwards.

They pepper your stomach, your hips, your pelvis. And his hands roam your body as they do, grasping at anywhere he can touch. He’s utterly obsessed with you, and he groans and ruts against the bed as he inhales slowly, breathes in your scent.

“You ready for me?” He grazes his teeth against your hip, dipping his fingers just past the waistband of your underwear. “My filthy mate. I can smell how ready you are.”

“Yes,” you sink back into the pillows, “please, Cass.”

“You never have to ask twice.”

He’s yanking your underwear down, and the stronger your scent becomes, the less he’s able to tamp down on those carnal noises that sound almost like animalistic snarls. He kisses one thigh, the other, and then tugs your legs apart with a hiss through his teeth.

“This is what I was thinking about during training.” He eyes your sex hungrily. “Getting between these incredible thighs. I couldn’t stop myself, and everyone knew it.”

“So get between them, General.” You drag a hand down your body, stopping between your legs. Your fingers mop up the wetness gathered there, swirling around your clit. The action dangles in front of Cassian like a toy. “Look how wet I am for you.”

The poor male is damn near salivating, his eyes almost rolling into the back of his head. He growls, moving your hand out of the way, and he can no longer stop himself from lowering his head to that sweet, dripping pussy he’s spent all morning fantasising about.

He licks right up the centre of you, tongue diving between your folds. At the first lick, you give over to the pleasure, the moans, pressing your hand to the back of Cassian’s head.

“Taste so good, my girl,” his tongue flicks your clit, “all this for me?”

“All of it, Cass. Always.”

“Yeah? You going to come for me?”

“Yes.” A moan escapes you as you tug at the strands of his hair. “Gods, yes.”

“That’s my girl.”

Your head falls back as he simultaneously sucks at your clit and flicks it with his tongue, and you feel fingers sinking between your folds. The sensations Cassian manages to wring from you never lessen in their impact. There’s something about having this brilliant male kneel between your legs and paint you with stunning pleasure. He calls you a goddess, and he treats you like one.

“Fuck,” you breathe, canting your hips up in time with the strokes of his tongue. “Cass…I want you inside me.”

“I want you to come for me first.” Without warning, he pushes a finger into you, and you moan. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“Gods—yes,” you’re rocking against his hand, gasping as he adds a second finger. His lips smile against you.

“Go ahead — fuck my fingers and take what you need. Come for me, my girl.”

The two of you work together, him thrusting his fingers and continuing the strokes at your clit, and you taking it all so, so well. And you can tell he loves every moment of your pleasure — the way it builds up in your bones, your veins, and readies itself to implode.

And then your mate curls his fingers deep inside you, and it does exactly that. Release bursts through you at an unstoppable force. The impact of it surges to every corner of your body and has you shaking, gasping, screaming.

Cassian moans as if the climax is his own. He drinks and drinks and drinks, not letting a drop of you go to waste. He takes the clenching of your walls around his fingers and the harsh tugs of his hair. Takes it all, happily.

You’re not sure how long your head is spinning for, but you’re eventually coming down, just in time to see Cassian press a kiss to your belly. You tug his hair again and breathe, “Want you, Cass.”

“My beautiful,” he kisses your belly again, “beautiful mate.” As he pulls back, his hands drag down your thighs. “My goddess.”

He jumps up from the bed, and never have you seen him rid himself of clothes so quickly. Clothed, Cassian is stunning. Naked, he’s breathtaking.

Your eyes study him in utter awe, and you wonder — not for the first time — what you did so right in a previous life to have Cassian as your mate in this one. Every inch of him is firm and honed. Tan skin nicked with scars; bold, beautiful wings; rippling muscles and sharp edges. And his cock—

His cock has you swallowing.

It stands to attention, hard and proud and leaking at the head. Cassian wraps his hand around it and pumps a few times, his eyes still intensely on you. He grits his teeth.

“When you look at me like that,” he says, “you make me feel like a god.”

“You are.” Your chest rises and falls heavily. And you mean it — to you, he is. A god and goddess together.

Stark heat crosses his face, and he jerks his chin in signal. “Come here. I want you on top.”

He’s told you time and time again that having you on top of him is like having his prayers answered. Feeling you rocking on him, riding him, your thighs at his sides…a feeling like nothing else in the world. And you’re more than happy to oblige.

So you’re swapping positions. He’s sprawling back on the bed, wings beneath him, and you hover above him. You’re eager to feel him inside you, but you stop short at the weighty gaze that follows your every move.

You do not balk from it, though. This confidence is a stark difference from the early days of yours and Cassian’s sex life, when you’d do everything to avoid him staring at you for too long, when you’d insist on fucking in the dark. Cassian watches you approach like you’re the last meal he’ll ever get to have. He looks…lost for words.

You reach down, cupping his face between your palms. “You’ll give me an ego.”

“You should have an ego.” He turns his head, kissing your hand. “Fuck me, you’re exquisite.”

With a smile, you’re dipping down and slanting your mouth over his. And as Cassian kisses you back, he takes your hands, gently, slowly pulling you down, until you’re straddling him.

“Did you think about this during training, too?” Your voice shakes as the head of his cock brushes your entrance. “Being inside me? Having me ride you?”

Cassian kisses you so deeply, it leaves you breathless. A loud, wet kiss with his lips moulded to yours, his tongue and your tongue dancing. He pulls away only to tell you, “I think about being inside you, and having you ride me, all the fucking time.”

You smile, reaching behind you to palm at his cock. And a soft groan breaks from him as you pump his length gently. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, moving his hand down to grab your thighs.

“Put me inside you,” he shudders, his callused thumbs sweeping your skin. “Need to feel your cunt around me.”

You can’t wait any longer, either. You steady his cock at the base, and the second it’s brushing through your soaked folds, you’re both moaning.

And even louder, still, as you sink so, so slowly onto him.

The more his cock slides into you, the harder Cassian grips onto your thighs. He grits his teeth, watching closely as you pause, allow yourself to adjust to his size, and sink down to the hilt.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” His hands smooth upwards, skating over your hips and round to grab at your generous ass. He squeezes, and then he’s lifting you, and you’re moving on his cock.

You could do this forever — have his long, thick length sliding in and out of you. In seconds, you’re slick enough, drenching him enough, to bounce on his length. You roll your hips, bracing your hands on the headboard and throwing your head back at the pleasure that skitters through you. Cassian leans down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.

“So full,” you whine, grinding against him faster.

“Yeah?” He breathes. “My cock fills you up nice and good, doesn’t it? I know exactly what this pretty cunt needs.” He lifts you up by your ass, growling, “You want it hard, my goddess?”

“Fuck, Cass, yes.”

“You gonna scream for me? Make sure those lot training on the roof know that I rushed away to fuck my mate like she needed me to?”

“Yes—gods.”

“Scream for me, then.” He grips you hard, and he gives you no choice but to scream.

He slams up into you, again and again, the angle so desperate and deep that your control utterly slips. You can’t pull it back. You can’t grab the upper hand and pin him down to ride him — and you don’t want to. Not as he hits a spot so deep inside you that another climax knocks the breath out of you, and you’re screaming, moaning, clawing.

A deep, smug chuckle breaks through the haze of your orgasm, but Cassian doesn’t falter once. His brow furrows more and more with every thrust. He’s holding you closer to him, burying his face into your neck, and you know he’s not going to last much longer.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he curses, bracing himself, “how do you feel better and better every damn time?”

“Because I’m yours,” you pant, and Cass chokes on a groan, “and you are mine.”

“Always.” His mouth finds yours in a deep, unforgiving kiss, and he doesn’t pull away as his body begins to tremble beneath you, his thrusts faltering and becoming sloppy.

He slumps down, lying your body flush against his, and just like that, he’s on the home stretch.

“Give it to me, Cass,” you watch the pinched pleasure on his face, “I want you to spill inside me.”

Your mate throws his head back, a shout escaping him. His hips still as you feel the explosion of his orgasm deep inside you, painting your walls with his come. Spurt after spurt, it feels never ending, and Cassian groans gutturally through it all. He well and truly fills you up.

He stays inside you for a while after — while you catch your breaths. But when you’ve both calmed a little, he’s pulling back to meet your gaze, and a dazed laugh leaves him. “Fuck, that was good.” He breathes.

“Mmhm.” You smirk, leaning in to kiss him. “Better than your fantasising?”

“My fantasies can be pretty elaborate, but even this brain couldn’t conjure up anything as brilliant as you.” He kisses you back, his hand gently patting your ass. “My delicious little mate.”

You can only smile against his lips. And you’d be content to stay here all day, wrapped up in him, his mouth on yours. But you grin and snake your arms around his neck. “Cass?”

“Yes, my love?”

“You really need a bath.”

He jumps up without a word, your combined wetness spilling down those thighs he loves so much, as he carries you with him to the bathroom.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

cassian tags: @brekkershadowsinger @wandas-dream @nightscourtt @luna-1-3-5 @ruler-of-hades @chocolatecakelargeshake @asemkta @lucyysthings @a-frog-with-a-laptop @iammichellekocwin @illyriansimp @azrielsbabyg @brookeduggann @toohardtoforgetcth @gmey11 @historianscalledusfriends @basicbittywitty @koemi-kimo @sadiebluewin @angelatinasstuff @eos-princess @theunforgivingsworld @lysjeonsworld @aaronwarnerswifereal @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @str4vvberry @lxnoluvr @moron-says-what @korol-lantsov @evabalexeeva @imaginethat16 @aoibhinnslater04 @kennedy-brooke @magnoliamermaid @winchestersister55 @carrxttcake @shannonsaid @ladylunavoodoo13 @glitterforashes @misslunatic1655 @basicbittywitty @bbycowboi @mel-wcst @amieinghigh @acourtofidiots @scooobies @grunchwench @glitterypirateduck @wallacewillow0773638 @jjlevin @siriuslyslyslytherin @supernatural99 @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @loglady00 @bbycowboi @tastydewdrops @waywardcasbutt @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thereadefofsmut @padfootsvixen @donnadiddadog

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starlightandsouls · 6 months ago

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Yours To Have, Yours to Break

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

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

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

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

Cassian POV:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What. The. Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why. Why. Why.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Azriel has a girlfriend.”

“Wait-what?”

“Az has a girlfriend,” Cassian repeated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You seem…upset about all this?”

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

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

Cassian let out a bitter laugh before spitting out,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If I can’t have him, no one can.

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

Azriel POV:

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

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

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

“Oh, Azriel!”

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

“Elain? What are you doing here?”

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

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

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

“Actually I’m meeting some…”

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

What. The. Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love… I don’t…”

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

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

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

Before he could refute it, Elain jumped in,

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

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

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

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

… … … … … … … … … … … …

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?! Are you hearing yourself Elain? I don't love you! Not like that, I never have-”

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

Elain patted his shoulder one last time before saying,

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

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

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

Cassian POV:

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

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

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

“How could you?”

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

“Az, what’s wrong? I-

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

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

“Az… brother… I have no idea…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What have I done?

#azriel×reader #azriel x oc #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel headcanons #azriel x y/n #azriel #acotar headcanon #acotar fic #acotar x you #acotar x reader

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daevastanner · 8 months ago

Text

Scene I want w/ Gwyn & Rhys

Rhysand: I miss my sister. I miss being an older brother to her.

Gwyn: What do you miss about it most?

Rhysand: Everything. Annoying her. Teasing her. Being her conspirator and keeping her secrets. I have a family of my own now, but nothing can mend that loss.

Gwyn: It sounds like you were a good brother.

Rhysand: I tried to be.

Gwyn: I never had an older brother.

Rhysand: *softly* Would you like one?

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #rhysand acotar #rhysand archeron #acotar headcanon #gwynsand

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danikamariewrites · 1 year ago

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can i please request request something really fluffy with the acotar men where reader calls them baby or something sweet, and it’s their first time hearing it bc they’re used to be called bastard or something horrible so they’re in shock and just melt and maybe get teary-eyed, reader just hugs them and praises them more😭🖤

Calling them Baby headcanon

A/n: half of them would cry Ik it

Rhysand

I think Rhys’s mom called him a lot of sweet names when she was alive and after he lost her he lost that affection

When you call him baby you just needed his attention to ask him a question. You were sitting in his office with him when you realized you two don’t have dinner plans

“Rhys. Hey Rhysie. Rhysaaanndd.” He was clearly wrapped up in work but he seemed to raise his head to listen to you

“Baby,” you cooed and he immediately stopped. Rhys looked up at you, his violet eyes bright and wide

“Yes my darling?” He gets up from his desk to join you on the couch. Sitting down he holds your hands, pulling them into his lap, never taking his eyes off you

“Should we go out to dinner tonight?” You ask with a smile. He nods excitedly, “Yes, absolutely. Wherever you want.” He gives your lips a quick kiss and pulls you on to his lap hugging you tightly

“Rhys, are you ok?” He buries his face into your neck breathing in your scent, nodding lightly. “I’m perfect darling.”

Cassian

He had lovers that called him stupid shortened versions of his name but nothing with love behind it like you did. And he was never shown love by an adult figure in his life at the camps so this would just make him want to hold you to give you that love back

Cassian was frustrated when you found. He was rummaging through drawers in his office murmuring to himself about something he misplaced

You just wanted to help him so you silently started looking around his office for the lost paper

When you finally found it you were so happy bc Cass could stop worrying

“Baby, I found it!” You held up the paper with a giant smile on your face and Cassian froze, staring at you with his lips slightly parted

“Wh-what?” His voice barley above a whisper. “The paper you were trying to find. I found it for you.” You walked over, holding it out to him

At this point Cassian didn’t even care about the report he was just staring at you

Cassian gently held your shoulders and pulled you into his chest for a long hug

Azriel

Azriel never knew affection similar to Cass. His family was just awful and then going to Windhaven wasn’t great but having that brotherly love was nice. And Rhys’s mom was like a mother to him but he wanted more

He always craved the love Rhys and Cass found and now he has it with you. You always made sure to show Azriel he is loved, at times he feels like he doesn’t deserve you

The two of you were in bed one morning just enjoying each other before you had to get up

You placed a kiss on his forehead and played with his short black hair, “I think we need to get up baby.”

A stupid love sick smile took over his features. You had never seen him like this, so free and vulnerable

“Ok, just five more minutes.” He said, placing a gentle kiss on your lips

From that morning on every time you’d call Az baby or some other endearing nickname he’d give you that same gentle kiss

Lucien

Lucien was always competing for attention but never saw the point. I think even with Tamlin their friendship took a long time to get to a point where Lucien wasn’t competing for his attention with others

With you it was different, you gave him all of your attention from day one and he basked in it

Today was a bad day for him and he just wanted to be around you

He was holding a lot of his feelings in and was on the brink of letting them out even though he didn’t want to. He knew you’d help him calm down

Lucien found you in the library and curled into your side, resting his head on your chest as you absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair

“Everything is going to be ok baby. Tomorrow will be better.” Lucien started blinking back tears at the nickname

He gripped you a little tighter and whispered, “Thank you.” As he let his tears fall, feeling safe with you

Eris

Eris, like Rhys, only had affection from his mom but his stopped once things with Beron took a turn for the worst

When you came along it took Eris a while to trust you and feel comfortable around you

You were passing each other in the hall, Eris was coming back from morning training and you were headed to breakfast

You two stopped to quickly kiss and promise to catch up later

“Bye baby, have a good day.” Eris froze as you walked away. Before he could say anything you disappeared around the corner

It was hours before he saw you again and the whole day he couldn’t stop thinking about you

Eris joined you for dinner early that night. When he saw you he scooped you up in his arms spinning around

“Hi baby. I missed you today.” You said, giggling as Eris put you down

Eris looked at you like you were the only person in the world as he rested his forehead against yours, “I love that. That you give me little nicknames. Please never stop.” “Never.” You whispered back

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honeybeefae · 7 months ago

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For headcanon monday, I have this one in my head that when Azriel finds his mate she’s going to be so SMALL in comparison to him, like just so short and little standing next to this big Illyrian warrior - but Azriel LOVES it, finding any excuse to pick her up/carry/generally hold her, constantly teasing her about her size, and omg how *protective* he is over her not only because she’s his mate but because of her size, and she is just a ball of feisty energy that clearly has no fear of a n y t h i n g

STOP THIS IS SO CUTE OMG

Azriel With a Short Mate:

Azriel was already certain he didn't have a mate. He asked the Mother every night for years when it was his turn, when he would join his brothers, but when they went unanswered, he finally turned away from the childish dreams.

So, color him floored when he catches sight of you, his chest tightening with something he was too scared to think of.

You were arguing with someone right outside of Rita's; your small stature was immediately noticeable compared to the tall man you were fighting with.

He felt a surge of protectiveness overcome his senses, his shadows already reaching out to you before the guy not so gently pushed you.

Everything seemed to slow as he stepped forward, fists already curled, until he saw your own fist raise and collide with the man's jaw.

His eyebrows raised in surprise, stepping to the side as the man stumbled back and fell to the ground.

Your breathing was ragged as you shook your hand, curling and uncurling your fingers as you finally looked up at him.

And everything clicked into place.

The two of you grew closer quickly and, within months, already moving in together.

In that time, you realized Az LOVED your height. You had opened up about it one night as being an insecurity.

He listened and then held you close, able to completely cocoon you in his wings as he stroked your hair and whispered to you how beautiful you are.

"You're perfect, Y/N. Look how well we fit together."

He might also say this during sex but that's a whole other post.

He loves to hold you when he takes you flying, enjoying the way you can bury your head into his neck when he swoops down suddenly.

He carries you whenever you have too much to drink, when you're too tired to make it to bed, when you're sick, really just any time he can. It's his favorite thing.

He makes sure to match his stride whenever you two are walking, holding your hand and gazing down at you with the most adoring eyes.

Everyone teases you about your height difference, especially the IC, but Azriel makes you feel so secure that you no longer mind.

Even Az teases you sometimes, leaning his arm on your head or holding this where you can't reach when you're being a little bit of a brat.

The best thing about your height though is how protective he is of you.

You can hold your own in a fight, everyone knows that, but Azriel is so quick to rush to your defense. He'll stand in front of you, basically hiding you from how much taller he is as his wings flare and his shadows whisper against your ear not to be afraid.

You are his life. His heart. You are too precious to lose.

And, despite his protests, you protect him just as fiercely.

You basically have scary dog privilege. And you love it.

#acotar #acotar headcanon #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #azriel #azriel headcanon #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x reader acotar #acotar reader #acotar reader headcanon

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thisblogisaboutabook · 7 months ago

Text

Punished by the Shadowsinger

Headcanon - Azriel x Reader - Smut

After you take teasing Azriel too far at training, he shows you exactly how he feels about your insolence.

ACOTAR After Hours 🌶️

Warnings: This is filth, MDNI, 18+ only, rough deep-throating, prior consent given by parties involved

- You’d been teasing him all day, exaggerating every stretch at Valkyrie training just for his viewing pleasure

- You knew he couldn’t ogle you stretched out like that, he was a professional.

- His shadows, however, were not.

- They reported exactly how deliciously arched your back was, the way the curvature of your spine met the curve of your ass so enticingly.

- Yes, his eyes were on training but that feather in his jaw and those whirring shadows told you just how in for it you were.

- The moment the last trainee left, he apparated directly before you, growling “You’re coming with me.”

- Not that you would have resisted but he gripped your wrist anyway, winnowing you straight to your shared bed chamber. Your leathers vanished in a moment, his as well.

- “How many taps, Y/N?” He ground out, tone predatory.

- “Three” you whispered.

- “Louder, Y/N. This will not be a gentle experience for you.”

- Your core turned molten at the threat in those words. “Three taps and you stop.”

- “Nice to see you have it in you to be a good girl after all” he mocked.

- Your eyes blew wide as he pushed you back onto the chaise.

- “Touch yourself for as long as you can.” He spoke with a saccharine grin.

- You didn’t have time to contemplate what he meant before one leg was braced on the seat of the lounge to your right and the knee of the other was propped on the back of the lounge to your left.

- “Open” he commanded, and you did.

- He gave a few cautionary thrusts into the warmth of your mouth, reveling in the little moans choking out of you as he did.

- You were lucky to be given the warm up thrusts, knowing that though half his length was filling your mouth now, the rest would be down your throat momentarily.

- You let out a whimper at the friction of your finger rubbing circles on your clit.

- “Aw,” he cooed “feels so good touching yourself like that doesn’t it?”

- You could only let out a hum as his thrusts quickened, inching deeper.

- “Sure didn’t feel good having to remain professional while my shadows lusted over that perfect fucking ass of yours.” His voice turned to a growl and you loved it.

- A riled up Azriel meant a vocal Azriel, and despite the harshness of his words - he would stop the moment you gave him those three taps - relaxing you further.

- Looking up, you could see the cut of his abs contracting with his thrusts, a scarred hand reaching down caressing beneath your jaw. “Ready for this, little Valkyrie?”

- “Mhmmm.” You hummed, silver already dusting the corners of your eyes.

- “Remember your taps if you need them baby.”

- You gave him a squeeze of reassurance, fingers digging into a muscled thigh. You were ready.

- And if someone walked in on you in that moment, they would have seen Azriel’s wings tucked in tight, his firm, rounded ass moving in time with the thrusts of his cock fucking your throat so deep that you couldn’t breathe.

- Your fingers were no longer able to rub your clit as they dug into the cushions, trying to keep yourself from sliding down the chaise.

- Azriel’s primal groans sent vibrations through you, the lack of oxygen making you light headed in the most erotic of ways.

- You gagged, throat contracting around his thick shaft, sending him over the edge. His hot release shooting down your throat.

- Azriel immediately pulled out, a long string of drool connecting your mouth to his shaft.

- Hopping off the chaise and kneeling down, he looked into you eyes with love and adoration. “You never tapped.” Catching your breath, you gave him a small smile, shaking your head no.

- “Fuck, Y/N. You are something else.” He shook his head in astonishment. With that he scooped you up and carried you to the bed.

- Laying you down gently he climbed over your naked form, those hazel eyes boring into yours with love. “Promise me you’ll let me know if I ever take things too far?”

- You grinned. “I promise. You’ll never break me. I trust you.”

- He gave a gentle smile in return. “Ready for your reward?”

- You bit your lip, the corners turning upward, giving an eager shake of your head, “Yes”

- Bringing a broad palm to the side of your face, his nimble fingers brushed a loose-strand of hair behind your ear. “Good.”

- And with that he moved down the bed and feasted on you like a male starved, bringing you to climax three times.

#acotar #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #Azriel smut #acotar smut #acotar headcanon

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lalacliffthorne · 1 year ago

Text

modern!batboys as (your) roommates - headcanons.

because let's be honest, we have all thought about that at some point.🦇

(this is the introduction of my new drabble universe!!! I can´t tell you how fucking excited I am.)

it would be wrong to say that your life was boring before you met the three idiots you now call your roommates

sure, it wasn't as exciting

but you had your tiny little apartment, went out with friends once in a while and mostly enjoyed having your own space and routines

but then

shit hits the fan

and by shit I mean your landlord

because of a loophole in the rental agreement, he's able to kick you out of your apartment with only a months notice

in other words

you're fucked

or, as your best friend Feyre, who you met the first week of orientation and became inseperable with, says -

"That bastard." Feyre's eyes are stormy.

"What the hell am I gonna to do?" You bury your face in your hands, your voice muffled when you mumble: "How am I supposed to find a new apartment in a few weeks? For this one, I looked over a year, and it's a glorified shoebox!" Your voice rises as you feel a wave of dread crash over you and your heart rising into your throat.

"Hey, it's okay. If worst comes to worst, you can crash at my place,", Feyre raises her brows, "even though we'd have to share my bed, but - I won't just let you sleep on a park bench if that's what you're worried about. Unless you find another glorified shoebox that's technically out of your budget, it's you and me, crashing on my bed, climbing over your stuff to get to the bathroom, finding out what married life would feel like."

even though you love her to death, that really does not sound like an option you want to explore

so you try everything

scouring every paper for apartment advertisments, posting on your uni's socials, going to all the viewings you can find -

nothing

but just when you're ready to just give up

a miracle happens

the miracle is 5'5, has impeccable style and hair, a love for deep red lipstick and drops by for lunch

Mor has been your friend for two years now, since you almost spilled your coffee over her laptop at the library

(she's still not letting you live that down)

she also likes to get you out of your comfort zone

"Are you serious?" Mor stares at you wide-eyed.

"Yep." You tiredly stir your coffee. "I've been turned away for twenty apartments in the past few days alone. I'm aready seeing myself bunking with Feyre. She offered, but her bed barely fits into her apartment as it is."

Mor breathes a giggle before hastily clearing her throat. "Sorry."

You grin weakly before rubbing your face. "I don't know what I'm gonna do. I know it could be even worse, but -"

"It already feels pretty shitty,", Mor ends. You sigh in confirmation and are about to change the topic, because you haven't seen the blonde in weeks and feel bad about ruining your lunch. But before you can open your mouth, Mor suddenly squints in thought. Then she looks at you.

"How much do you value your privacy?

Given the fact you'll be basically homeless on the street in about a week if you don't find a new place - not much.

Mor begins to grin, and there's a bright twinkle in her eyes.

"Well, then I might just have the solution."

the next day, Mor drags you downtown

she takes you to an old but sophisticated building you wouldn't even dream about living in

a single month's rent there would probably empty your whole bank account

but Mor just winks and pulls you up the stairs

on the third floor, a guy leans in an open door

and that

is how you meet Rhys.

Mor's cousin is annoyingly beautiful

tall, with perfectly tousled dark hair, a perfect grin that causes his cheeks to crease and, from the looks of it, the also perfect physique

he's also annoyingly charming

if you'd met him somewhere without Mor, you would have probably gaped for a moment before catching onto the mischievous twinkle in his nearly violet eyes and promptly avoided him, because someone that pretty had to have some fault

as it turns out, Rhys' fault is offering practical strangers to live with him without even batting an eye

"What?"

You blink at Mor from where you just sank onto one of the two very comfortable couches, because she can't possibly -

"Okay, before you freak out, just listen, okay?" Mor is grinning giddily. "The guys have a free room they don't really use anyway and you really need a new place - so you could just move in here!" She beams. "The place is definitely big enough, and you'd fit in perfectly, I promise! They're just as chaotic as you, but also very responsible -"

"Mostly." Rhys' eyes are twinkling. He's looking completely and slightly concerningly unbothered by the prospect of you, a factual stranger, moving in with him and his friends.

"- they don't have any bad habits, they're fairly neat -"

"Mostly."

Mor widens her eyes at you. "It's perfect!"

You blink at her.

"I've already talked to my roommates." Rhys' deep voice is almost soothing - mostly because he sounds a lot calmer than Mor, steady and reassuring.

"If you want, this can be temporary, until you find a place just for yourself, but this way you don't have to stress about needing to find a place in a certain time, plus,", he cracks a grin, "I don't like the idea of you having to crash on somebody's couch in the foreseeable future, that's just bullshit if we got a free room here no one uses anway. And if this works,", one corner of his lips quirks even more until his grin is a lot closer to the wicked twinkle in his eyes, "none of us would mind another roommate."

"You don't have to decide right now." Mor smiles brightly. "But I think it would be great, and you'd make a bargain with the rent, because Rhys loves to play sugar daddy -", her cousin flips her off, "and I think this would be a really good idea." She grins, suddenly a little sheepish.

if you weren't so desperate, you would whip out about a dozen arguments about why this probably isn't a good idea

like the fact that rooming with three dudes sounds like a lot of testosteron, or that you don't even know them, and that they don't even know you -

but from the way Rhys lounges in his chair, smirking easily while Mor beams at you, he doesn't seem to see too much of a problem in that

also you are very, very desperate

but there's still that one thing -

"About those roommates -"

When you hear the door, you raise your head, your heart doing a slightly concerning flip in your chest.

It's a day later, and you just finished the tour of the apartment Rhys has given you. Even though it's huge and very grand with it's high ceilings decorated with stucco and the original hardwood floors, it feels warm and cozy. The room you'd be sleeping in is as big as your whole current apartment, light with two big window and a view of the trees on the street outside.

It kind of makes you wonder where the catch is.

Maybe it's about to walk through the door.

You hear a deep voice and heavy footsteps, then a dude appears in the door to the kitchen.

Your heart does a somersault, and you feel your lips part a bit. Because frankly, it's a miracle he makes it through the door without hitting his head.

The guy's huge. His shoulders and chest strain against his t-shirt; he looks like one of those dudes who basically have muscle in their DNA, all corded muscle under ridiculously wide shoulders and a solid middle, muscular long legs under black jeans -

And you're staring.

Big time.

The dude's looking over his shoulder, which means he thankfully doesn't notice you oggling him. The half of his hair that isn't pulled back in a bun brushes against his neck when he grins, his cheeks creasing. He's really good looking, in a rugged kinda way, with his roughly curved jaw and the scar on the side of his face, and when he looks back ahead, his eyes twinkle warmly.

Then, behind him, another guy appears in the doorway, and your breath catches.

Because if Rhys is annoyingly beautiful, the guy in the door is drop-dead gorgeous.

Just like the other two, he's tall and all lean muscle. His shoulders shift under his black t-shirt as he leans against the doorframe, his hands sliding into the pockets of his black jeans. His eyes look like amber in sunlight, his dark hair is tousled, a strand curving over his forehead. His face is all angles and soft lips, with dark brows that look like he likes to crunch them in a scowl, but right now, he looks fairly relaxed, though his gaze is watchful.

And on yours.

Feeling warmth wash into your cheeks, you hastily look away while crap, crap, crap echoes through your head, because of course he caught you staring.

On to a really great start here.

Your gaze grazes his hands and the bit of uneven skin that merges into veiny, tan forearms before your eyes trail over the tattoos scattered over them, some peaking out from his sleeves.

There's the sound of someone clearing their throat, and you feel the heat in your cheeks deepen when your eyes dart up and meet Rhys', a twinkle in his iris when he sends you a lazy grin.

"Boys, this is Y/N." He raises a brow. "Our new roommate."

and that is how you meet Cassian and Azriel

it almost makes you reconsider

because you're really not sure you're gonna survive rooming with three guys that pretty

but after thinking it over for a couple of days, you realize that you really don't have a choice

and so a week later, Rhys and Cassian come over to your apartment to help you move the first half of your stuff

neither blink an eye at the fact it's about the size of a broom closet in comparison to their home

Rhys does however scowl when he sees the condition of the bathroom

you're ready to sink into the floor when you hastily explain pretty much all the apartments in the building look like that

(a lil dingy and moldy)

but when he turns, Rhys just glowers and grumbles under his breath about how he'd like to rip your landlord a new one

it's the first time you realize that under all the aloofness and swagger and cheeky grins, Rhys cares

it's proven again when you move into your new room a week later and there's a new mattress on the also new bed

you haven't bought either of them, but when you try to protest, Rhys just huffs about your back probably being fucked up because of your old one and about how he'll add it to your rent

he never does

you get used to rooming with three guys surprisingly quickly

sure, it is pretty much a total 180 -

going from living alone in a tiny apartment

to sharing a huge flat with three dudes who make the place vibrate with laughter and bicker like they have been married for thirty years

but even tho you never thought you'd be the type to actually enjoy having roommates

you find that with them - you don't really mind

of course it is nice to have the place to yourself sometimes

and after about two weeks, you're comfortable enough to blast your music and dance through the kitchen when you're alone

(yes, at some point, they catch you - it takes you about a minute to realize there are three guys standing in the doorway, watching you dance with a broom. you get a mild heart attack and Cassian and Rhys start cackling while Azriel smirks)

but even if usually there's always someone around -

you find that all three of them are very good at both respecting your boundaries and leaving you be when you need to curl up in your room

but also seem to know when you need someone to drag your ass out into the world

and something about knowing at least one of them will probably be there when you get home makes you feel very warm and fuzzy

and even tho you weren't completely sure about this situation in the beginning

you get roped into living with the three guys instead of just rooming with them pretty easily

it really starts with Cassian

probably gets used to you living there the quickest

after barely a week, he's treating you like you've lived with them since the beginning

like just sticking his head into your room and making you help him with dinner

it surprises you a little that they all have dinner together

from what you've heard from friends who have roommates, they usually all do their own thing most of the time

but it makes you realise that these guys are more family than just roommates

Cassian is surprisingly easy to talk to

he's quick with the quips and the banter

also very flirtatious

constantly makes you laugh, his deep, boisterous chuckles infectous

also super affectionate

you're convinced the man is actually just a huge teddybear

after just a few weeks, you're used to hugs that lift you off your feet

cheek kisses as greetings

and being casually lifted out of the way like you don't weigh anything

not that you're the only one who gets that treatment

no, there are hugs in greeting that make Rhys groan dramatically like his air supply is cut off

and pats on the shoulder and smacking forehead kisses that make Azriel crinkle his nose

Cassian quickly becomes the one you go to when you need advice

he always listens attentively

doesn't sugarcoat things

stays objective while never making you feel bad or less about anything

and it quickly becomes pretty clear he'd put everything aside if any of you ever need help

gives you rides in his beat up truck to uni

and always picks you up when studying at the library gets late bc he doesn't like the idea of you out alone after dark

with Cass, even mundane things like grocery shopping become fun

he's just casually funny and teases the shit out of you at every opportunity

has no understanding of the concept of personal space

and with most people, that would kinda put you off a little in the beginning

but Cassian just has something about him

something so inheritly good and warm and sunny

that he never once makes you feel uncomfortable

if anything, with him around, you feel a lot more at ease

and not just bc it's always nice to have a guy in your back that towers over you like a lighthouse

though the whole massive, tatted dude with the dark eyes thing kinda goes out of the window as soon as he grins at you

dimples and all

but still, don't be fooled

when the grin's gone and he's glaring, you know why people make way for him immediately

he works at a gym to earn some money at the side

once, he takes you with him just for fun

then that one time becomes another and before you know it, you tag along twice a week

and it would be wrong to say it's not doing something to you when he crouches in front of or behind you, his deep voice rumbling as he mumbles encouragements

"Alright, come on, sweetheart, gimme one more."

Trying not to make a very embarassing groaning sound, you crunch your face in concentration and slowly lower yourself into a squat, your muscles trembling slightly.

"There you go, that's it." You can feel Cassian in your back, spotting you, his deep voice rumbling through you, and it's just almost distracing enough for you to -

"No, no, come on, you can do it." Cassian's deep chuckle sets you at ease, and he lightly pats the side of your thigh. "You got this, c'mon."

With a soft groan, you push yourself up again, and you can hear the triumph and wide grin in Cassian's voice when he goes: "Yeeessss, good job, baby. C'mon, you can do one more."

Blowing out a heavy breath and glaring at nothing in particular, you ready yourself.

when one day, he makes you lose focus, you're gonna throw something at him

you're pretty sure he does it on purpose just to see how red you can get

but Cass is really good at pushing you without overdoing it, always teasing and encouraging

and if you manage to do something, in the gym or otherwise, he grins so widely you're almost sure he's more proud of you than you are yourself

Rhys is a flirt.

and after you get over the first initial blush that just won't leave you alone for the first few weeks

it actually becomes entertaining

now bantering back and forth is basically all you do

it gets so bad, Azriel constantly rolls his eyes at the two you

but just like you suspected, behind all the flirtiness and mischievous grins

Rhys cares

a lot

whenever you're upset, he looks like he's contemplating ripping apart whatever or whoever made you upset

and whenever someone has a go at Cass or Azriel, Rhys picks them apart with lethal precision and a wicked smile

if Cassian is most affectionate, Rhys is close second

he's slightly more casual about it

pinching your nose, flicking your ear softly, offering his cheek for a kiss in greeting

always down for amazing hugs tho

whenever you get on your period, Rhys turns full mother hen

it's actually quite entertaining to see a 6-foot-something dude grumble because you don't want to take painkillers

"I just don't like to take them until it's really necessary, okay?" You glower at Rhys, curling up on the couch and trying to suppress a wince.

Rhys incredulously narrows his eyes.

"You're bleeding from inner organs and look like you want to curl into the couch. I'd say it is pretty necessary."

behind all the snark and arrogance, Rhys cares

also seems to have a rather unhealthy tendency to put everyone else first

you catch on pretty easily that even though his father is absolutely loaded, Rhys doesn't particularly cares about his money

in fact

he doesn't hesitate to spend whatever money his father pumps into his bank accounts for a second

when you ask Mor about it, she just smiles lopsidedly.

"I think it's his kind of protest?" She squints into the sun shining onto the balcony of the flat, the big glass of iced tea in her hand glittering in the light. "You know, spending all that money, preferably on his friends? Mostly because I don't think his father really likes them."

You wince.

"He knows he can't win against his father." Mor crunches her brows in thought. "I think he came to terms with having to take over the business one day, and he cares about the people who have their jobs there, so he won't let them down. It's just hard sometimes, if your whole life is already planned out for you." She shrugs gently. "Doing this, living with Cassian and Azriel and now you, spending his fathers money on it and actually having a good time instead of just being bitter and stuck up - it's his way of not surrendering completely."

you have never met Rhys' father, but even tho he's powerful af

you really feel a strong desire to kick him in the balls

Rhys has a knack of knowing exactly when you need to talk and when you need to be distracted

it's not unusual that after a bad day, he just joins you on the couch, plopping down and pulling your feet onto his lap

it either leads to you venting and him listening

usually giving very appropriate responses of either huffs, scowls or downright glowering

or, if you don't want to talk

he either lets you use him as a human pillow, grumbling over your choice of movie while scratching your head

or he takes you out

to the cinema, a museum, the theater -

you're pretty sure you've grown a lot more cultured in a few months than the whole of your life before that

it never gets boring tho

the whole thing kinda annoys the crap out of you in the beginning bc he never lets you pay for anything

but you get better at finding ways to pay him back in other ways

like taking over making dinner on days when he's exhausted

coaxing rants out of him when his father gets to him

dragging him out on nightly walks through the city when he can't sleep

and after a while

you understand that it's just one of Rhys' love languages

and it is fun to spend his father's money ;)

especially when it means museum Saturdays with the two of you just sitting and staring at paintings

or going to the cinema and pigging out on popcorn and greasy stuff while whisper-hissing fun facts at each other

even takes you to stuff like wine tastings

Rhys is a foodie

likes super fancy pickles, trying food you can't even pronounce and splurging on dinner

and if he decides the two of you need to get out of the apartment

one way or another

it usually ends in a restaurant

always orders like half the menu

also cooks the best out of all of you

like I'm talking freaking perfection

whips up the fanciest, most delicious far-too-many-courses meal for holidays

and goes all in even if he just makes dinner

you often get lured into the kitchen by the delicious smells

usually ends up with you on the couch at the table while Rhys moves around the kitchen

talking about everything and nothing

(also not above slapping anyone's hand away if they try to sneak a taste)

Azriel is quiet

not shy; you catch onto that pretty quickly

he's too quick and easy on any dry remark in response to his friends' boisterous teasing for that

and his gaze too firm and piercing

rarely shies away when you catch his gaze

in the beginning

that intimidated the shit out of you

the way he appears without a sound, towering over you, all dark and quiet and brooding

it's like he perfected the art of going unnoticed

tho you're not quite sure how

bc how could anyone not notice him?

after a while tho

you realise that even tho Azriel is dark and glowering and brooding

there's something gentle about him

it surfaces in the smallest things

like how his lips curve the softest bit when you grin up at him

how light and careful his touch is

how he is always respectful, putting himself between you and the street, holding doors open without ever seeming to think twice about it

and how everything about him seems to darken when he witnesses anyone being treated poorly

but even if anger rages within him like a quickly rising tide, quiet and dangerous

you still always feel safe with him

maybe it's bc, even in those moments, you just know it will never be directed at you

and that even tho there's always that darkness within him, it's never something that feels unsettling or dangerous

and instead soft and welcoming

like something about him and that steady, dark gaze just calms you

maybe because he's so quiet, Azriel seems to see and hear everything

in record time, he begins to catch onto every little detail about you

mundane things

like how you like your favorite drink or what your favorite ice cream is

the only reason you know he notices is because he begins to hand you cups in the morning that are exactly right and the freezer starts to always hold a big container of your favorite ice cream

but also seems to know exactly what your tell is when you're nervous

uncomfortable

or tired

what makes you upset

happy

nervous

what causes you to giggle uncontrollably

and so on

it should probably unsettle you, how easily he sees through you

but it doesn't

sure, it's a bit weird at first

but you quickly realise it's strangely comforting - that someone pays enough attention to know even the smallest thing about you

Azriel is your favorite person to be around when you just need a break

it's like something about him is grounding, steady

like being around him makes your thoughts calm down

makes it easier for you to sort the chaos your mind sometimes becomes

you quickly realise that beneath all of the quiet watchfulness lies a wicked, dry sense of humor

his mumbled remarks make you snort laughter or beam widely up at him

always makes his lips curve

he reads a ton

when you first see his room, you almost gape

because the man has books

they fill the shelves

balance in towers on the floor

sit on the window sill and next to his bed

most of the books in the shelves in the living room are his as well

has a great dislike for movie adaptions

sits there with that scowl of his, glaring at you until it's over when you make him watch one

says it destroys the pictures in his head

(to be fair

you don't think he's entirely wrong about that)

always has a camera in reach

got a few, all older ones; no fancy digital ones, but all on film

just like he seems to catch onto everything

so does his camera

it's like the manifestation of his quiet perception of things

to fix things onto film

he captures everything

most of the time, you don't even notice

only sometimes you raise your head to find the camera in his hands, a slight curve to his lips

develops all pictures himself, in a dark room on campus students can book

spends hours in there, just working in silence

there's usually a lot of bugging involved before he shows the developed pictures to anyone

usually ends in all of you leaning over them eagerly, trying to figure out when he took them

Rhys standing in the kitchen, grinning over his shoulder like Cassian just made a bad joke

you and Feyre, laughing so hard you lean into each other

Mor, lying upside down on the couch while focusing on the cards in her hand while you're next to her, mid-motion, a focused expression on your face

Cassian napping on the couch, twisted in a very uncomfortable position to fit all six feet something of him onto the cushions

there seems to be an endless number, and they're all carefully stored away in his shelves

some, he refuses to show to anyone

it takes you so little time to feel at home in the huge flat, the prospect of looking for an apartment for yourself is off the table before you can actually start

and it doesn't take long until you're part of the routines like you'd been there since the beginning

Saturday and Sunday evenings are for movie nights

sometimes, Mor joins you

you sit with Azriel on the couch, sharing a big bowl of popcorn while staring at Rhys and Cassian argue about which Star Wars movie to start with

in the summer, you take trips to the lake for swimming and laying in the sun

have game nights

evenings sitting on the balcony, squinting into the setting sun

barbecues

and afternoons in the park, one joining in after the other

in winter, you go to the ice rink

bake together

and spend whole weekends on the couch, watching movies

you go to the gym with Cassian or accompany him on his runs

(well, he's running - you're on your bicycle, because there's no way you can keep up with that dude´s long legs)

or get dragged out onto hikes by Rhys

in the evenings, you usually all end up in the kitchen for dinner, banter thrown over the dinner table

Azriel and you mostly take care of the grocery shopping together

it usually entails you trying to reach something on a high shelf and Azriel huffing, moving to grab it without even having to stretch

sometimes Cassian joins in, and you both make it your mission to annoy Azriel until he cracks a grin

both Az and Rhys regularly give you rides on their motorcycles

while Cassian likes to stick to his old, beat up truck, Rhys has a car as well, but alternates between it and the motorcycle

more often than not, he uses it as opportunity to flirt

small cleaning duties in the apartment are rotated between the four of you

but big-once-a-month-deep-cleans are something you make a day of

blasting music, you divide the flat and get to work

(bathroom duty is rotated)

in the (very rare) case of an argument, it usually ends in one of you being mediator

which means after a cooling off period

the arguing parties are locked in the pantry until they've talked things out

works surprisingly well

sometimes, the boys bring someone home

it usually comes with a text

or the very oldschool sock on the door

tho you ban that one after Cassian forgets it

and you walk into the flat unsuspectingly only to be flashed

Cassian apologizes profoundly

after he's done laughing

there are also a few awkward encounters in the hall in the morning that leave you contemplating not running around in just big t-shirts

Feyre still gives you rides to campus and back

but sometimes, it's Azriel waiting in the parking lot instead, leaning against his motorcycle, two helmets next to him

it does not help with the way your heart seems to speed up whenever you find his amber eyes on you

but you're very adamant on pushing that away

it's probably not that serious anyway.

it would be wrong to say your life was boring before you met the three idiots you now call your roomates

but it sure as hell is a lot better now that you have

even if they do drive you a little nuts sometimes

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels

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imaginesandbandfiction · 7 months ago

Text

Second Choices

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: I hope this makes sense lol. I opened my planning doc for the next part of Triad, read the three sentences I had written there, and then closed it and went back to a random drabble in my notes app that exploded into this. So… enjoy, I guess? There will be three parts of this total, so click here to be added to the taglist to be notified when those go live!

Warnings: Angst, drinking, drug use (slightly forced, if you squint?), a little hint of smut at the end but it doesn't progress very far

“Y/N is a bitch,” Braelie whined, voice echoing out from the restroom’s open door. Mor sighed, snapped the cap back onto her signature red lip gloss, then turned towards Cassian’s female-du-jour. She was pretty, in an artificial sort of way. Her foundation, a shade too light, was caked on with a thick layer of matte powder that swallowed the light when it hit her face, leaving her skin dull and sullen. The dark eye makeup and too-bright lipstick made her look like a doll, and not the kind for children.

“Listen, Brae,” Mor hoped that using a nickname would soften the major blow she was about to land. She reached out and laid a light, comforting hand onto one bony shoulder. “Y/N and Cassian have been friends for a long time. I won’t lie to you, sometimes the lines get blurred when they’re both single. She’s probably having some complicated feelings, since you’re so pretty,” Mor rushed to add that last part when Braelin’s lower lip wobbled. Then she prayed to the Mother for your forgiveness and said, lowering her voice to a whisper, “she’s probably just jealous.”

That put a spark back into Braelie’s eyes, and Mor cringed. She added Cassian to her list of prayers as Braelie flounced away in search of him.

Cassian hovered with his hand on the doorknob, ready to duck out the side door to sneak in a quick smoke break while Braelie freshened up with Mor.

Braelie was hot, sure, but Cauldron she was dumb. If Cassian had to hear the words, “wait, really?” one more time, he might not make it long enough to get her into his bed tonight. Just a few puffs of mirthroot would dull the edges of his brain enough to find her cluelessness endearing.

She wasn’t the most exciting company, but she was reliable, and he needed that. He’d broken things off with Skyla three weeks earlier and knew that he was dangerously close to doing the one thing he wore he’d stop doing, so he went out one night, alone, and found Braelie.

After overhearing Mor’s words, he felt guilt roiling deep in his gut. So he smoked half a joint and headed back inside. He danced with her and thought of you. Walked her home and thought of you. She invited him in for a drink and pressed her too-pink lips against his.

He thought of you.

Afterward, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and waited until her breathing slowed before sneaking out through the window. He shoved off of the sill and let his wings fully expand, catching the wind and sending him soaring into the early morning sky.

—

You hadn’t meant for Cassian’s latest fling to overhear you calling her a “Cauldron-damned floozy,” but it had happened anyway.

“She’s soooooo annoyingggg,” you slurred, taking another swig from the wine glass in your hand. You let your head fall back until it landed on Azriel’s shoulder. He chuckled and you felt his shadows nipping at your cheeks, lightly scolding you for being bitchy. They tickled like tiny, ice-cold kisses, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. “Seriously, Az. I dunno what Cas sees in her. She’s just another Cauldron-damned floozy, good for keeping his bed warm and not much else.”

Mor had managed to redirect Braelie towards the restrooms after that, leaving you alone in the booth with Az, completely oblivious.

Azriel’s shadows had alerted him to her presence, and a smirk graced his lips. He sensed some major drama brewing and relished in his position at the sidelines.

“Why, Y/N, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you sound jealous,” he drawled. You let your head loll to the side so you could glare at him, which coaxed a bark of laughter from his lips.

—

The first coherent thought you had the next morning was water. I need water. You dragged yourself out of bed and trudged into the bathroom, gulping mouthful after mouthful straight from the faucet.

But water could only do so much for a hangover, so you threw a robe over your pajamas and tiptoed down the Townhouse stairs. It was nearing noon but, based on the disheveled state everyone had returned in last night, you didn’t want to risk waking anyone and incurring their hungover wrath.

Outside the kitchen, you heard low, muffled voices and paused to listen before entering. Mother forbid you end up interrupting Cassian and Braelie’s post-coital feast. Cauldron, even her name was annoying.

“I just don’t understand why Y/N would say something like that,” you heard Cassian say, wincing as memories from last night flooded your brain.

“Look, Y/N’s your best friend, I’m sure she’s just feeling put out now that you’re spending so much time with Braelie,” Az said, careful to keep his tone neutral.

“Well she doesn’t have to be such a bitch about it.”

You turned away and snuck back up the stairs to change into real clothes, deciding that breakfast at your favorite cafe was in order. Preferably paired with a mimosa or five.

—

Az sighed and took a sip of tea to buy himself some time to think. He’d stayed up with Mor until sunrise, talking about their clueless friends.

While your comments about Cassian’s love life had been funny the first few times, after more than three decades, it was getting old. They recognized a pattern repeating itself ad nauseam; Cassian gets a new girlfriend, you distance yourself from him and start grumbling about the girls’ flaws, then when Cas eventually dumped her you’d be back to being best friends like no time had passed at all. And if you both happen to be single, well, sometimes after smoking too much mirthroot you’d end up all over each other. In a friendly way, of course.

This time, though, you’d been much more open about your hatred for Braelie despite the fact that she was one of the more tolerable ‘floozies’ they’d had to deal with over the years. She was dumb but harmless, and soon enough Cassian would tire of her, resetting the cycle once again.

So they’d decided to divide and conquer; Mor was going to try and get it through your thick skull that you’re in love with Cas, while Az was tasked with showing the General what was right in front of him.

Easier said than done. So he decided to go for the jugular.

“Well, it’s not like you have the best track record with females. Maybe Y/N’s gotten tired of playing nice when you’ve got someone new on your arm every other week.”

“Last I checked that wasn’t a crime.”

Az held his hands up, raising one eyebrow at Cas.

“Don’t shoot the messenger. If it’s really bothering you, why don’t you talk to her? I’m sure if you asked her to lay off Braelie she would.”

Cas ducked his head to hide the heat rushing to his face and mumbled something incoherent into his chest.

“Sorry, brother, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of my shadows laughing at your blush.”

“I broke up with her this morning,” Cas growled, tightening his grip on the mug in his fist.

Azriel cackled, laughter only growing louder when Cas glared at him.

“It’s not funny,” Cas insisted, launching his teaspoon over the table. Az’s shadows caught it before it could make contact, turning Cas’s glare into a downright glower.

“Alright, alright, it’s not funny. You’re just predictable, that’s all.”

After stewing in silence for a few minutes, Cas felt his self control crumbling. Words bubbled up from his chest, through his throat, and then he was rambling.

“I overheard Mor telling Braelie that Y/N was jealous of her,” he pushed his chair back and started pacing back and forth across the kitchen. “And at first I thought, no way, that’s crazy, if Y/N was jealous I would know. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. She always gets weird whenever I’m dating someone, right?”

“Maybe you should talk to her about it,” Az suggested, leaning back in his seat. Just a friend offering a casual, off-the-cuff solution to a problem he knows nothing about.

“Yeah, maybe…”

—

Mor tracked you down later that afternoon, sprawled out on a blanket next to the Sidra and halfway through a bottle of vintage red imported from the Summer Court.

“Heyyy,” you greeted her, pushing yourself up into a sitting position and holding the bottle out towards your friend. “Come to join the pity party?”

Mor eyed you, curiosity and amusement sparking behind her honey brown eyes, and she accepted your offering.

“And why are we having a pity party?” she asked, plopping down next to you and taking a long pull from the bottle.

“Cause I fuck everything up, duh.” You flopped back down, this time onto your stomach. “Cassian hates me, but whatever. I’m sure he and Braelie are going to be very happy together.”

Mor had to force her eyes not to roll at your drunken dramatics.

“I’m gonna find a boyfriend, that way when they break up Cas can’t come crawling back to me with his dick in his hand. See how he likes it.” You made grabby hands for the bottle but Mor shook her head, keeping it held just out of your reach.

“Or you could try telling him how you feel?” She suggested, casually, as she took another sip.

You scoffed, hiccuping giggles following as you struggled to keep your composure as mixed emotions ebbed and flowed through your body.

“Tell him how I feel? Should I tell him it makes my skin itch whenever he dances with another girl? Tell him that I haven’t been able to finish with anyone else since the first time he fucked me? Or maybe I should tell him that he’s my mate, good idea, Mor. Maybe that will make him fall in love with me!”

Mor let her eyes roll this time, patting you on the back. But when you flipped onto your back, she saw the pain and longing etched into the lines on your face and stared deep into your eyes, waiting for you to laugh and say it was just a joke.

Unease settled in her stomach.

“Wait, you’re serious, aren’t you?” she asked.

“He’s my Cauldron-damned mate, and he doesn’t even know it. He’s too busy burying himself in the hordes of females fawning all over him to notice how much it hurts.”

“Y/N…how long have you known?”

“Four years,” you whispered, throwing an arm over your eyes to hide your tears from your oldest friend.

“Oh, babe,” she sighed, tugging you up into her arms. The dam behind your eyes broke and sobs wracked your body while the gears in Mor’s brain started turning.

When you finally settled in her lap, tears dried up, she hauled you to your feet. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

All you managed to mutter was, “Not the Townhouse,” before she winnowed you away.

—

Cassian dodged Azriel’s attempts at cheering him up in favor of sulking at the kitchen table all day, waiting for you to wake up.

When it was nearing dinner time, he sighed and put together a tray of tea and pastries to bring up to you as a peace offering. But after knocking politely on your door for five minutes straight, worry started worming its way into his stomach and he threw open the door to reveal your bed, perfectly made and empty.

“Fuck,” he growled, throwing the tray down the hallway where it crashed against the wall, broken bits of pottery clattering to the ground. He’d wasted all day waiting for you when you were out doing Mother knows what with Mother knows who.

Screw apologies, he was on a warpath now.

He trekked through the busy streets of Velaris looking for any sign of you, starting at Amren’s apartment and making his way through your favorite shops and restaurants with no success. Just when he was about to give up, assuming you were holed up with a male somewhere, he saw Mor ducking into one of the small cafes near the Sidra.

“Mor!” he shouted, jogging to catch the door before it closed behind her. She turned around, and a look of shock flashed across her face before it smoothed into cool indifference.

“Cassian,” she said, nodding at him before turning to the hostess stand. “I’m here to pick up a takeout order for Morrigan.”

The hostess nodded and disappeared into the kitchen to grab the food. Cas reached out and grabbed Mor’s wrist, tugging her around to face him.

“Where is she?” he asked, barely able to contain the rage flowing through his veins.

“Not now, Cas,” Mor sighed, wrenching her arm from his grasp. “Trust me. Just give her some space.”

“I can’t,” he growled, siphons glowing as if they were attempting to warn her that his magic was sizzling just beneath the surface. It felt like something was pulling him along, the desire to find you growing stronger the longer he looked. “I need to find her. Please, Mor.”

The hostess came back and handed a bag to Mor, who promptly turned around and dumped it into Cas’s arms.

“Fine, then you can take this up to the House of Wind for me. I have some errands to run, you have an hour.” Cas’s face relaxed and he nodded, about to open his mouth to thank her when she waved a hand at him to dismiss him.

But when they were back outside, she turned around to flash a sickly sweet smile at him.

“Oh, and Cassian?” His eyes widened as he froze in place, wings spread and ready to take off. “If you hurt her, I will feed you to Bryaxis.”

With that, she disappeared and Cassian took to the skies wondering what would be waiting for him when he arrived.

—

On the back deck of the House of Wind, you stood leaning against the railing, music swirling around you as you watched the sun sink behind the buildings of Velaris below. Lights blinked on one by one until the whole city was filled with twinkling stars.

With a joint in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, your mind was finally, blissfully, numb. Only the subtle ache deep in your core served as a reminder of your unfortunate situation, but even that was starting to dull.

Of course, your peaceful night had to be ruined by the one male you had no desire to see. The sound of flapping wings and rushing of air past your face gave you a split-second warning, and then Cassian dropped to the ground behind you.

You turned around and held the hand with the joint lazily balanced between two fingers at your forehead.

“General Bloodshed, or whatever the fuck,” you said, wobbling on unsteady feet as you saluted him. Then you lowered your hand and took a long drag, holding the smoke in your lungs for as long as physically possible before letting it out in a steady stream pointed in his direction. “Come to fight for your fair maiden’s honor, or just to rub it in my face that you’re getting laid and you don’t need me anymore?”

“Y/N,” he said, all the anger draining from his body as he took in the bags under your eyes and the heavy winter clothes hanging off your frame even though Summer was right around the corner. It was like he was seeing you for the first time after a long mission away, noticing how much weight you’d lost, how tired your body looked.

He set the food down on one of the lounge chairs and took slow, careful steps towards you.

“Y/N,” he repeated, “What’s going on?”

“Nothin’, Cassie, nothin’ at all,” you said, pausing to hiccup before continuing. “I don’t care about Braelie, I don’t care about you, I don’t care about anything.” You thrust your arms out wide and turned to face the sunset, which was now casting a golden glow onto Velaris. “I’ve got a hot date with my fingers later, and I probably won’t even think about you.”

Cas ignored the heat flaring up low in his belly at the mental image that flashed behind his eyes.

“Hey,” he whispered, coming up next to you and prying the joint from your hand. “Gimme that.”

You turned to face him, lower lip stuck out in a pout.

“Why? So you can leave me here and go get high with Braelie? I bet she’s real mouthy. You like em loud, don’t you? Like when females beg for that big Illyrian cock?”

Your voice got higher and higher, becoming breathless as you rambled on, letting all of your deepest, darkest, pent-up thoughts and feelings fall from your lips. Even though you knew you’d regret it in the morning, in the moment it felt so good to let them go.

“Y/N, stop, just take a breath. I’m not going to leave you, okay!” Cassian stubbed out the joint and tossed it aside, putting his hands on your shoulders to force you to look at him. “I’m not going to see Braelie, I broke up with her this morning.”

Your eyes glazed over as you looked him up and down, a lazy smirk blooming on your lips.

“Ohhhh, I see how it is,” you drawled, waving a hand to summon the joint to you. Snapping your fingers to spark it back to life, you took another deep hit and then stuffed the unlit end into Cas’s mouth. He tried to protest but you held firm until he finally inhaled. Its effects hit immediately, and you watched as his shoulders drooped, muscles relaxing. With a wicked grin, you dropped from his loosened grip to your knees, palming his dick through his leathers. “Want me to kiss it better, put your broken heart back together?”

A war waged behind Cas’s eyes; on the one hand, the mirthroot was clouding his judgment and lust threatened to take over at the sight of you looking up at him with wide eyes.

On the other hand, he had set out to make things right, to talk to you and figure out the true nature of your feelings for him. Sleeping with you would send the wrong message.

“Y/N, stop,” he grunted, pulling his hips back and shoving your hand away.

“What?” you asked, your pout back in full force. “Want me to beg for it first, cause you know I will? Know I’ll give you anything you want?” You shoved yourself up to your feet, pushing onto your tiptoes so your narrowed eyes bore right into Cassian’s.

He felt the tension that had been building all day melt away—the anger, the frustration, the confusion—all of it was gone with a snap of golden magic that flooded his body.

You felt it, too, from your side of the bond, could see the moment it registered behind those hazel eyes. It felt like the bond was on your side, snapping just in time to help you prove a point.

“I’m done being your second choice, mate,” you snarled, plucking the joint from his hand before turning around and stalking into the house, leaving him stranded alone in the darkness.

#acotar imagine #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian #cassian imagine #cassian imagines #cassian fanfiction #cassian fanfic #cassian acotar #imagine #imagines #angst #imaginesandbandfiction

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thelov3lybookworm · 9 months ago

Note

As a slut for angst today “tolerate it” has been stuck on a loop and now I am imaging an angsty fic where Az just slowly begins to forget about reader and she threatens to leave but he doesn’t take her seriously and is so utterly destroyed when he comes back home and she’s gone…

Like I feel like it’s on brand with him and his duty to his job and whatnot. Plus the lyrics are so him coded “while you were out building worlds where was I” / “took this dagger in me and removed it” LIKE HELLO???

(But I also love a good happy ending so I feel like if azzy groveled hard enough… 👀)

Tolerate it.

Summary: She is fed up.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: ehehehehehe angsttttt yummy yummyyyy

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n laughed at Feyre's pathetic attempts at skipping the large puddle on the ground accumulated due to the rains that had Velaris freezing overnight.

Feyre failed miserably, her boots and leggings getting wet from the splash that signalled her downfall against the watery enemy of hers. But Feyre was not fazed. She simply laughed alongside Y/n, her eyes crinkling as the two of them made their way back to the river house.

It was visible already now, Y/n could even make out the grains in the wood of the door as it opened, and her brother in laws, along with her mate, spilled out.

Y/n could see from the corner of her eyes as her sister lit up at seeing her mate, her husband and the father of her child. The moment his eyes met her, she took off, her arms spread as she ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Rhysand did not hold back either, clutching Feyre to her chest with as much enthusiasm as she held him.

It made Y/n smile.

Y/n then glanced behind the embracing couple to her mate, the overwhelming urge to hug him too and to claim him in front of anyone watching making her start walking towards him without even realising.

Which was reckless, as the moment he realised she was walking towards him to hug him? He took a step back.

Y/n knew that he hated being affectionate in front of others, but this was cruel.

So to not get embarrassed by his rejection, Y/n turned swiftly towards Cassian, her other brother in law, who stood not too far from where Azriel did, and hugged him instead.

Cassian, Mother bless his heart, did not even question it.

He wrapped his arms around Y/n and literally lifted her off the ground, cackling when Y/n's fist made contact with his shoulder over and over again as she demanded to be put down.

Y/n had to stop herself from thinking back to that day. She did not want to relive the pain she had felt, the sadness and anger.

Y/n watched his eyes fluttering, wondering if he was dreaming. Wondering who he was dreaming about.

It definitely was not her, that was for sure.

Y/n, feeing a little sadness taking root in her heart, returned to the portrait in her hands, questioning if it would even be worth it finishing it up when he sure as hell wouldn't even acknowledge it. Or her.

Y/n glanced at the paint supplies she had placed on the coffee table next to her, having wanted to capture a moment of him letting his guard down, of him being vulnerable using her best paints, knowing he would not care.

She guessed living for as long as he had, life and the small things didn't matter as much anymore. Maybe that was why he loved to go on the missions Rhysand, Y/n's brother in law, gave him.

It probably gave him the thrill nothing else did anymore.

With Y/n's sister just having given birth to the starlight of the court, Rhys had become more and more protective, sending his brothers and anyone and everyone at his disposal to check and report about every trivial thing that made his primal mate and father side get protective.

Slowly, Y/n reached for the brush that rested in the cup half filled with coloured water, deciding to finish the half done portrait. If he did not care... she did not now what she would do then, but she did know she was tired of being tolerated by him.

But what could she even do? It was not like she could just up and leave.

Y/n blinked.

Or... could she?

Y/n shook her head, as if to dislodge the though, and with a sigh, she let herself get lost in the soft skill of painting her sister had taught her long ago, when staying up and huddling under worn blankets was the only thing bringing any warmth.

Trying not to think about the fact that the last time she remembered him caring for her, genuinely caring for her, was only when the two had been in their early stages of relation ship and the mating bond was a very new experience to a newly made fae Y/n, she continued using the soft and strong, long and short strokes to finish up her latest masterpiece.

Of course, Y/n never would call herself a creator of masterpieces, but any and all art that included her perfect mate was destined to be a masterpiece.

Time lost its meaning, and all that mattered was capturing the perfect angle for his eyes, nose, lips, shoulder.

Nothing existed but Y/n, her art, and her muse.

Nothing existed but the soft rise and fall of his back as he lay sprawled on his stomach, the effortless way his wings draped across the whole bed, taking up space three wingless fae could have slept in.

Where Y/n would have slept in, on days when everything had been filled with stars and dreams, wrapped under his warm wing like it were a living blanket.

When he pretended he was nothing, absolutely nothing but her mate. Her husband. Not a spymaster, not a shadowsinger, not a brother. Just her mate, her lover.

Those days were far gone now.

•○🌑○•

Despite the fact that she knew he would most definitely not care, Y/n was excited.

And that was downplaying what she felt.

The wait was killing her, the amount of adrenaline in her bloodstream making her want to jump around to get rid of the energy that made her shiver, her limbs going cold and warm at the same time. She had to push her fists together and shove them between her thighs to keep them from shaking, which did not help at all.

So Y/n waited, her body clenched in anticipation as she stared at the doorway that led into the living room, a big grin on her face.

She glanced once at the sketchpad in front of her on the table, admiring her artwork for a moment.

She never liked whatever she made, always feeling like it lacked something. So for her to be excited to show off her art to her mate was a huge indication to how much she loved the portrait.

The familiar scuff of worn boots drew Y/n's attention, and she shot to her feet, pressing her fists to the back of her thighs.

It had become a habit of Azriel's, to purposefully make some noise before he stepped in view so as not to startle her with his appearance.

The action melted Y/n's heart every single time.

He stepped into view, as ethereal as the day Y/n had first seen him as a human, just as beautiful as he had looked that day as he tried to get comfortable on the small chair in the manor on the other side of the wall, just as loveable as that day when she had ended up losing her heart to the low born fae that should have intimated her.

He was fumbling with his armor, making sure it was all secured properly before he left for whatever mission Rhys assigned him for that day.

He glanced up just as he walked past Y/n to the kitchen counter, a small smile gracing his face before his attention was again diverted.

Y/n tried not to deflate at his lack of enthusiasm.

"Good morning love. Look-"

"Good morning Y/n." He cut her off, his voice void of emotions, as if he was tired of saying the same thing every morning and wanted to get it over with. He didn't even glance at Y/n as he said it, and Y/n pretended not to notice that he used her name instead of whatever endearing name he would have picked before.

"I will be on a scouting trip to Illyria, and after I have a meeting and dinner scheduled with Rhys and Cass, so I will be late coming home. Don't wait up."

Y/n's smile faded. "Don't wait up or stay out of my way?"

Azriel froze. "What?"

Y/n released a humourless laugh. "Nothing. Go have fun."

Azriel turned, giving her a hard look. "You know I would rather stay at home with you."

Doubtful.

Y/n so badly wanted to say it to his face, but she did not want to fight with him so early in the morning, so she sighed, smiled and nodded.

He started walking towards the door, and despite her anger, Y/n walked forward to kiss his cheek.

She did not miss how he recoiled.

Y/n masked the hurt before he could see it, and he gave her an awkward smile before he maneuvered to walk around her, careful not to brush against her.

Y/n watched him walk away, staring hard at the door even long after he'd left.

She then glanced at the portrait she had abandoned on the table, and, her heart hardening, turned away.

She was tired of having her love be tolerated, and she would not have it be that way anymore.

Either he accept her love the way it was, loud and clear, or he go find someone else.

And so, she turned, walked up the stairs to the bedchambers she shared with Azriel, and began to turn it back into just his bedchambers.

She would no longer be tolerated only because some godly entity thought she and him would make great, powerful kids and tied them together with a string.

She deserved to be cherished.

•○🌑○•

Part 2

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel fic #acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #mating bond #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanon #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x you

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lainalit · 5 months ago

Text

Elucien Fashion Magazine Cover

🎀 Artwork by @vellaryss For Day 4 High Society @elucienweekofficial

#Prythian's best dress couple #when they are out together everyones looking at them #elucien #elucienweek2024 #Day 4:High Society #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #acotar headcanon #acotar

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year ago

Text

Practice On Me — Part Fourteen — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader is readying herself for the ball. Hot Daddy Fin™️ opens up to her a little and shares some worrying truths (and then some). Azriel and Reader reunite, body and soul.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: Adult content, 18+, NSFW, minors dni.

Tried my best with this part but sorry if it's a bit iffy! This girlie is ill as FUCK. Still hope you enjoy, tho, loves!

“You know, I have to admit, I was dubious at first.”

Mor is knelt at your feet, and you think this might be the closest you ever come to having a goddess on her knees before you. A strange part of you wants her to snap out and sink her teeth into your thigh, leave a bright red mark on the skin — but alas, her attention is fully on the hem of your gown.

“My uncle, love him though I do, is a calculated bastard.” She pushes to her feet, straightening out the fabric. “But I think he actually enjoys your company.”

“He does.” Roza pitches in from her place on the couch. “I know Fin. Y/N has him eating out of the palm of her hand.”

Though she smiles, her tone is laced with clear concern. Not because she cares about Fin, but because she cares about you. Doesn’t want you to forget that this is the High Lord of the Night Court you’re meddling with.

“Males are vapid and predictable, every last one of them.” You shrug your tense shoulders. “Throw them a few pretty smiles and they’ll do anything for you.”

Mor steps back, a low whistle leaving her. “Forget the males. I’ll do anything for you.”

Her eyes rake over your gown. So do Roza’s. And you…you want to crawl out of your skin and hide.

You’ve never owned a beautiful gown like this, never been able to afford one. The couple of dresses you do keep amongst your clothes are plain ones that just about do for special occasions. What hangs off your body now is…a work of art.

Almost feels like sacrilege for the beautiful fabric to touch your marred skin.

It’s sheer, showing off more than you’ve ever before dared to, and yet there’s a modesty, an elegance, to the many whorls and swirls made up entirely of little blue jewels and pearls and beads. It gives the gown a weight that makes it cling to you, and it outlines a body that…that quite frankly, you’d never considered beautiful until this very moment.

A body that commands the garment, and not the other way round. That makes you feel like far more than just another mistreated, unfavoured Illyrian female that will one day be lost to history.

This gown makes you think: I do not need the wings I have spent my life longing for.

It makes you think: There is nothing more beautiful than a good spirit and soul, and I have both.

It makes you think: Never again will anyone — friend or family or foe — make you feel less than worthy. Less than deserving. Less than strong.

You have always had strength. And this dress somehow amplifies it. Will amplify it to a room full of people who will see, through that sheer fabric, your scars, your lack of wings, and they may pity you, or not pity you at all, or may even laugh.

But you will still be beautiful.

Movement has you realising that tears have blurred your eyes. You swipe them away, and Mor is smiling at you, and Roza looks like she’s a little choked up, too.

“You are so godsdamned gorgeous.” Mor says earnestly. “Every last inch of you.”

Indeed, you glance over your shoulder at the mirror behind you, your gaze immediately finding your scars sitting brutal and undeniable beneath the sheer fabric. You don’t hurriedly force your gaze away like you have done your whole life, don’t try to avoid them.

You just…look. Look at what has been a part of you for so long, now.

“…Mor?” Roza says quietly. “Can you…give Y/N and I a moment?”

“Of course.” Mor agrees. “Time for me to find a snack.”

The stunning blonde squeezes your hand as she strolls past, and as she leaves the room, the door is pulled shut behind her.

Roza rises from her seat, making her way over to you. And as she stops before you, her hands move up to cup your face.

“Did you know,” she murmurs, “that I’ve always thought you were one of the prettiest females in all of Windhaven?” A soft scoff leaves you, but before you can glance down, she’s holding your face firmly. “I mean that — even when Azriel brought you to the cottage that very first time, and you were covered in dirt and mud, your hair all knotted, a leaf or two in there — you thanked me for feeding you, and you gave me a smile that was just like…sunshine. Such a rare thing in Windhaven. I remember thinking, this girl deserves to smile like that, always.”

A single tear spills down your cheek, and Roza wipes it away. She definitely looks like she might start bawling, too — a rare thing for her.

“I know you were never given much of a chance to feel worthy.” She whispers. “Your mother abandoning you…your father taking your wings…they were the two people who were supposed to love you more than anyone, and they broke you and left you broken.”

“You put me back together.” A lump in your throat fractures your words. “You and Rhys and Azriel and Cassian. Your love—”

“My little dove, you put yourself back together. We just loved you through it. I just want you to know that…I just want you to remember, the next time you feel worthless, that you are beautiful, and you have always been beautiful. You’re strong, and spirited, and determined. You have a resolve like no other I have ever seen, and you can do anything — which is why I know you will achieve whatever it is you’re planning with Fin.”

Only then does your gaze drop. “I only wish to appeal myself to him enough that he’ll value my opinion — that this Fenlaros business cannot go ahead. But I still feel awful…he’s your mate.”

“Gods, in the loosest definition, Y/N.” Her hands move to yours, then, liking them together. “Believe me when I say that if it weren’t for my children, I’d never see that male again. I think you know that I do not hold him in high regard.”

“I do know. But I respect you and care about you more than anyone in the world. And if you feel even a shred of discomfort about what I’m doing, I’ll stop. I’ll find another way—”

“The only discomfort I feel,” she squeezes your hands gently, “is at the thought of any harm coming to you. But I’ll feel that way through everything you do in life, because I love you. I also feel awe, because you’re brave and brilliant, and you’re doing what’s right. What I will teach this little girl,” she places your hands on her swollen belly, “to do — to stand up against what is wrong, and do so without a lick of shame.”

“I’ll protect her with my life, you know — the babe. I’ll love her unconditionally.”

“And she will love you, my dove, just as I do. So,” she steps back, eyes your dress again. A smile curves her lips. “Do whatever it is you have to do, Y/N, to change Fin’s mind — you have my full support. I only ask three things of you.”

Your expression softens. Anything — you’d do anything for her. “Of course, Roz.”

“First, don’t get caught with your scheming.” She says. “And second — you may feel like murdering Fin. Gods, believe me, I get it. But please do refrain. He’s my children’s father, after all, and Rhys isn’t ready to be High Lord just yet.”

You breathe a laugh, dipping your chin. “No murder. Got it. And the third thing?”

Roza steps up to you, her fingers finding the beautiful, jewelled material that clings to you like a second skin. She smiles.

“Go to that ball,” her fierce eyes meet yours, “and show everybody there that your father didn’t take one bit of beauty away from you.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You pace the length of your room. Back and forth, back and forth. You’re restless tonight.

Day after day is swept behind you like the snow that blankets the mountains. Time is a racing thing. Starfall is fast approaching, and thus, so is the ball. But you still feel as though you can’t get a good read on Fin’s thoughts.

No matter how many dinners you share with him, how many walks through the city streets you take together, the shows you watch in the Rainbow…he does not offer you the candidness with which he spoke through that very first conversation in his study. Any attempts to talk about Tathaln, about Fenlaros, are promptly diverted. He wants to talk about you — wants to know you.

It feels like the opportunity to stop this shit show in its tracks is slipping through your fingers, and you can’t grab hold of it, pull it back.

So instead of sleeping, you think, and you pace, and you—

Gods, you just want to see Azriel.

How much space, you wonder, is enough space? You have respected his needs, have kept to Velaris, given him time to confront his innermost thoughts and feelings. But you don’t know how long he needs, and right now…right now, all you want is to see him. Look into his eyes. Hear that soft, quiet voice telling you that everything will be okay.

You need to know if he’s made a decision about Fenlaros. You’ve tried not to think about it, not to dwell on the possibility that he could choose to run from his feelings over embracing them. But the longer the silence stretches on…the more you find that hole in your heart gaping, threatening to swallow you whole.

You pace more and more, up and down in time to the ticking of the clock. It’s a wonder you haven’t worn a track through the carpet. You don’t know why you’re suddenly so antsy, but perhaps if you could just talk to Az, some of your worries could be allayed—

Before your thoughts can catch up with your body, you’re tearing through the drawers in the desk, scrambling for paper, a pen. Practically throw yourself into the chair. A letter — a letter will do the trick—

But you don’t know what to write.

You stare at the blank parchment like the words will simply appear by your willing. They don’t.

A love letter? No, no, not a love letter. Just a letter to…to remind him that you are still here. That you are reason to stay in Windhaven, and you think you could be reason enough.

Azriel… you picture him as you crawl his name. His honey-golden eyes and his silken hair. The sharp bone structure that could slice through paper, the full lips. The memory of how those lips feel is fading, and you want — need — it back. Your pen pauses, hovers at the parchment, and those lips are all you can think of, the urgency with which you crave them.

Azriel, you write again, I want to see you. I need you, too—

A soft knock lands on the door, and the pen clatters against the desk where you drop it.

The clock has just timed three in the morning — the knock is an unexpected obtrusion in the dead of night. One that makes you anxious.

But a second knock comes, and you shove the parchment and pen back into the drawer, scrambling to your feet. Perhaps it’s Roza — the more the pregnancy progresses, it’s not unusual for her to wake up in the night with need for something. You hurry over and tug it open.

Fin stands on the other side, looking…unkempt. His hair is mussed, like he’s been dragging his fingers through it. The first few buttons on his shirt have been undone, and a glimpse of a fine, chiselled chest peeks out. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He looks as though he hasn’t been to bed.

He drinks in the sight of you in your nightgown, bathed in the room’s glow. He swallows. “Forgive me, I…I saw your light on. Thought you might be having trouble sleeping again.”

You incline your head. “I was.” You admit. “…And you?”

“Too much in my head to even attempt it.”

You’re not sure what to reply with, how to help. Fin watches you closely like…like he needs to. Like gazing at you brings him comfort.

You are treading a very, very dangerous path. But you shift on your feet and ask him, “Would you like to come in?”

A tiny nudge of a smile pulls one side of his mouth up. “I was actually wondering if you’d allow me to take you somewhere.”

Your eyes widen a little. The surprise isn’t for show, and it seems to please him. “Right now?”

“The City of Starlight doesn’t sleep. Ever.”

A fact you’ve learned all too well during your stay here. There’s always some sort of activity, something going on that sends a constant pulsing through the city streets. For some reason, you hadn’t imagined Fin to be a participant in the night life.

“It’s somewhere I go when I can’t sleep.” He explains, as though you’ve spoken your thoughts loud and clear. “I think you’d like it. And from one insomniac to another, I…I would be honoured to share it with you.”

How can you possibly say no to that? For all Fin is mysterious, for all he keeps his cards tightly pressed against his chest, you truly believe that he finds a strange sort of solidarity in this one affliction that burdens you both. You may have wildly different reasons for pacing your room at night — and you’re not sure he’ll ever tell you his — but when the world is too quiet and thoughts are too loud…there’s comfort in knowing that somebody else is staring down those early hours, also.

It almost makes him seem…normal.

And perhaps that’s why you offer him a dazzling smile that isn’t entirely disingenuous. “From one insomniac to another,” you say, “I’d love to come with you.

The way his eyes light up makes you wonder if you’ve played your role, appealed yourself to him, a little too well. “Then I’ll wait here while you get dressed.”

You incline your head. “I’ll just be a moment.”

He waits patiently as you change from your nightgown into warm clothes that will shield you from the freezing night air. With no indication of where you might be going, a sweater and breeches and boots seems like the safest bet. You sweep your hair out of your face and shrug the weariness from your bones. When you emerge from the room, Fin’s gaze traces you like you’ve donned an evening gown and not the thickest layers you could fine.

“I find you so very intriguing.” He comments unexpectedly, and you’re not sure what he means.

You plaster a smile on your face, all the same. “Where are we going, Lord of the Night?”

Heat stokes his hickory eyes, and he looks as though he’s actually trying to tamp down on a broad smile. “It’s a surprise.”

You hold a hand out. He takes it. “Then surprise me.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“Tilt your head up.” The instruction comes from close behind you. Near enough that a warm breath tickles the back of your neck. You dutifully obey. “Now, open your eyes.”

Your eyelids flutter open slowly, cautiously. What you’re met with has your next breath catching in your throat.

A dome of starlight arcs high above you. The twinkling jewels in the sky feel almost close enough to reach out and touch, and they shine brilliantly through the glass roof, an occasional transient one cartwheeling its way past in pursuit of another place.

You can only stare. Gape. Your feet move forward a couple of steps, but your face remains tilted upwards.

You were in this building only a couple of evenings before, but it had been so packed, then, so filled with music and chatter and laughter and activity, that you hadn’t noticed what sat above your head. You’d been far too enamoured with the performers, their poetic verses and fluid dances, the tragic climax that had brought you to tears.

Now, the largest theatre in Velaris’s rainbow is empty and bathed in darkness, broken only by silvery moonlight. You and Fin are the only two here. And standing on the gargantuan stage, a mass of empty, folded seats staring back at you, you have the perfect view of the night sky that gives a performance all of its own above you.

There are soft footsteps, and Fin is also stepping forward, stopping at your side. “In over nine centuries, I’ve never tired of that sight,”

You shake your head, a little dazed. You’re lost for words. “I can see why.”

“There is so much unexpected, so much chaos and burden, in being High Lord. But no matter what I may face, what choices I make, and what reactions they receive…there will always be the night sky and its stars.”

Only then do you remove your gaze from the domed glass ceiling — to drink him in and wonder how many layers deep his true heart lies. This male who is as cunning and cruel as he is handsome and charming. How many dimensions does he have that you’ve never stopped to consider?

“I know it doesn’t exactly support the imagine of a calculated High Lord who shouldn’t be crossed.” Fin says, staring had at the surface of the stage whilst a wry smile graces his lips. “Sneaking off to an empty theatre in the dead of night when sleep evades me. But I find…peace here.”

You eye the ginormous building around you, dipped in shimmering moonlight and the shadows of twinkling stars. All those empty seats, the vacant orchestra pit, the stage that has trapped so many beautiful voices and words, guided so many dances and echoed so much beautiful music. There’s a haunting loneliness to the desolation. And you can’t help wondering if…if Fin relates to that, somehow.

When you snap out of your thoughts, you find he’s moved again. Now, he sits on the very edge of the stage, legs hanging down and palms bracing him. He stares out at the rows and rows of red velvet seats, not one of them disturbed by a spectator.

You’re moving before you tell yourself to. Sitting at his side and tucking your legs beneath you. You spend a short time in still silence, but the heaviness of the High Lord’s thoughts seems to spread to every corner of the building.

“When you brought me here the other night,” you angle yourself towards him, “it was my first time in a theatre — ever. I never saw a show before.”

A very slight frown pinches Fin’s features. He seems to consider that. “One of my flaws, Y/N, I have to admit, is that I often forget that there’s a world outside of my privilege. That people lack where I never will.” He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. “Roza was right to take Rhysand to Windhaven. He’s grown with a humility that I very much do not have.”

You snort softly. “I spend a lot of time with your son, My Lord. I assure you he’s just as capable of arrogance. I’ve kicked his ass a good few times because of it.”

A quiet laugh rasps from him. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that.” He pauses, and then his elbow is gently nudging you. “I told you, anyway — it’s Fin. I consider us to be friends. Don’t you?”

In some ways, you really do. Ans what a lying, using, devious little friend you are.

Especially as you scoot closer to him. And you’re softening your features and staring openly at him.

You don’t miss the way his gaze falls to your lips.

“I do.” You say, and he lifts his eyes to yours again. “And as your friend, I’d like to know what weighs so heavily on your mind tonight.”

His mile falters. And you don’t want to lose him, to let the moment slip away from you. You quickly grab his hand before he can tense up.

“I want you to talk to me…” You make your voice soft as butter, sweet as honey. “I like talking to you, Fin.”

There’s a beat. A tense one. And then his body is loosening, relaxing, his eyes becoming infinitely warmer.

His hand wraps around yours, the pad of his thumb tracing your nail. “I like talking to you, too.” He admits, and pauses again. “…War is…a great likelihood, Y/N.”

It’s your turn to go still, then, to tense up. Icy cold surprise bolts through you. That…isn’t what you were expecting.

“War?” You breathe, your mind already conjuring images of your friends on a battlefield. “With whom? When?”

“I do not know when. It could be in a year’s time; it could be in a decade. That all depends on how long it takes for humans to rise up and rally against our kind.”

“Humans?”

“There has been more and more pushback, in recent years, from humans. Humans who are enslaved by our kind and are sick of it. More and more of them are beginning to stand up against it, to protest how they’re forced to live. They’re willing to go to war over it. I don’t know when or where, but they will. In years to come, they will.”

“As they should.” You sit up straight. Perhaps it’s the wrong thing to say, but you don’t care. “They should revolt. I think it’s barbarous, the way our kind treat them. Their purpose is not to serve us. They have just as much right to live freely as we do.”

You mean it, mean it with your whole heart. You know what it’s like to be used for somebody’s personal gain, what it’s like to have freedom always lurking just out of reach. And you’ve heard about the treatment of enslaved humans. Most would rather die that live under the cruelty of their fae masters. That the practice hasn’t been outlawed utterly sickens you.

Fin says nothing for a while. His hand continues to hold yours. His eyes drink you down with a muted intensity. Like this is the first time he’s ever really taken you in.

“I agree.” He murmurs, much to your surprise. “And when war comes — and it will, and I’m preparing for it — when war comes, I will fight alongside the humans. To liberate them.”

You look at him, then — a male who has lived for almost a millennia, but doesn’t look a day over forty. Who is so universally feared, who carries a reputation for things you can’t even bear to consider. You will not fool yourself into believing that the darkness hides an inner light, or that the cruelty is a front. He is not soft and he is not kind.

But perhaps he’s not totally bad, either. That he would put himself in the firing line for the liberation of innocent humans…it has to speak somewhat to his character.

It almost makes you regret your scheming, your manipulating.

Before you can muster a response, the High Lord is leaning closer. Your body tenses as his face stops inches away from yours.

“You need not be afraid of me, Y/N.” He whispers. “I find you…magnificent. I like that you don’t filter yourself in front of me, that you’re not afraid to speak your true thoughts and feelings. You…you are an asset. Worth so much more than you’ve ever been given credit for.”

Your gaze dips, cheeks burning at the compliment. “I don’t know about that—”

“I mean it.” His finger hooks under your chin, soothing the skin there. “Magnificent.” He repeats, and he’s leaning in closer, closer, until his lips are coasting your flushed cheek. The kiss he presses there is cold in contrast, but you have no chance to react as his mouth brushes its way to the shell of your ear and lingers there. “Absolutely brilliant. And do you know what?”

“…What?”

“After the ball is over,” his breath tickles your ear, “I’m going to bring you back here, to this stage. And those stars above our heads will watch as I strip you bare and fuck you hard enough to shake the building.”

It takes every morsel of your resolve not to start at the words. You release a shaky breath — one that makes you seem eager, responsive. It’s convincing enough that you don’t think you’d be out of place up here on this stage.

Thankfully, you don’t have to drag words from your spinning thoughts. Fin lets go, and he pulls back, rising to his feet.

“But until then,” he holds a hand out for you, “there is much to be done. Starting with you and I getting a good night’s sleep.”

You wear a mild smile as you allow him to pull you up. “A girl can dream.”

“And so can a High Lord.”

You don’t say much else to each other as he tugs you close and spirits you back to his palace. You are both pensive, and you are both tired.

But when he bids you goodnight outside your bedroom and strolls off to his own, sleep seems further away than ever. You’re thinking too much at once. Humans. War. Fin. Azriel.

You still desperately want to see Az, talk to him.

You dig back into the drawer, meaning to retrieve the letter you’d started to write.

But your hand merely knocks against wood, and the letter is gone.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You’re tempted — to write another letter, or note, or…whatever. You don’t even know what became of the first, unfinished one, whether it made its way to Azriel or not.

But days pass, and you…you begin to lose your nerve a little. Perhaps it’s better to live in ignorance for as long as possible than know, either way, what Azriel is thinking. Choosing. Can’t help feeling that the more time pedals on without a word…the worse the outcome will be.

Distractions help. But tonight, it would seem, there are none. And it’s strange, because everything around you is bathed in luxury, in excellence, but you find yourself missing the stripped back simplicity of Windhaven. The crumbling cottages, the mead hall, the rough-and-tumble way of life. There’s always something happening in that harrowing place, something to keep you occupied. As you stare down an evening in a huge, mostly empty palace, you’re actually struck by your longing for it. Both Roza and Fin are busy. Mor is away. Only the mountains and the distant sounds of the city are your companions tonight.

And once again, your thoughts take you to Azriel.

You think maybe this need for him is getting out of hand. And maybe it’s just the sugar-sweet things that Fin has been speaking into your ear, the knowledge that deep down, there’s only one person you want to make such promises to you—

No. It’s not just that. Not just a pathetic influence of suggestive words. It’s a need.

You need Azriel.

Your closest friend. Your safety blanket. The male who saved you and brought you into the fold of a loving, supportive unit. You stared down awkward adolescence together, faced such trying times by each other’s sides.

And you need him.

Your heart, your body, your skin, is hot and heavy with it. Restless. Like the craving is pulling you apart from the inside.

You need to do something, anything, to occupy yourself; take a late-night stroll, read a book. Anything to stop you from staring at the ceiling and being eaten alive by the fire that scorches your veins.

You’re so desperate to get moving that you don’t bother to grab a jacket — just shove your feet into your shoes. A spring mildness has blanketed the city, anyway. You’ll be fine. You just need to move—

But you yank your bedroom door open, and Azriel is on the other side.

His beauty punches you straight in the gut.

He’s a vision, stood there in casual clothing, a note — your note — clutched in his hand. He takes in the sight of you just as hurriedly.

“What are you doing here,” you breathe.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. His eyes rove you again, and he swallows. “I got your note.” He answers. “I wanted to see you, too, and…the High Lord summoned Rhys, Cass and I here…to warn us to be on our best behaviour at the ball.”

You can’t say anything. Can’t speak. You just gawk like a godsdamned fool.

A strange concoction of a frown and a laugh comes from Az. “I…snuck away after…to come here—”

Before you even know what you’re doing, your hand is bunching in the front of Azriel’s shirt, and you’re dragging him into the room with all your strength. He looks bewildered as you shove the door shut behind him.

“Az, have you lost your mind?” You round on him. “If Fin knew you’d come to my room—”

“He isn’t here.” He cuts you off. “Cass went straight back to Windhaven, and Rhys knew I wanted to see you, so…he’s currently having quality family time with Roza and his father in the city.”

There’s a lot to unpack. But all your mind wants to zero in on is that one little sentence — Rhys knew I wanted to see you.

Pathetic, how your entire stomach flips.

“…You call him Fin?”

It takes a moment for your mind to catch up enough to understand Azriel’s question.

“We’ve been living under the same roof.” You shrug slowly. “I…guess he got tired of me using his title.”

Az stares at you, assessing. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, but you fidget under the intensity of his gaze.

“What is it?” You ask him.

“I’m worried about you. I know he’s taking you to the ball. I don’t want you playing his games.”

You purse your lips. “…That why you snuck here to my room, Az? To give me a warning—”

“I came here because you said you wanted to see me, and I want to see you, too.”

So open — for him. So straightforward that for a beat, you’re not sure how to react.

But then you’re moving, and so is he, and your bodies slam together in a tight, long-awaited embrace. Feeling his arms wrap around you is…everything. Everything you’ve missed and longed for. Everything you will ever long for. Whatever happens…Azriel is the only thing you’ll need, when all is said and done.

And that’s why you’re suddenly crying, clinging to him.

On instinct, Azriel’s arms tighten around you. He moves a hand up to cradle the back of your head, and he whispers, “Y/N…”

“Please don’t leave Windhaven.” The words choke out of you. “Please, Az, just…don’t go to Fenlaros. Please—”

“Y/N. Look at me.”

Tears and all, you do. You remain as close to him as you possibly can as you lift your head to meet his eyes.

You don’t know how you know, but you do — from that one, heavy stare, you can tell that things have changed. That he has changed. He looks like the same, stunning male that you’ve always admired, but something else sits on his face.

Emotion.

Determination.

Fire.

He opens his mouth. Takes a slow, shuddering breath that you feel through every inch of your body. And then he says, with utter clarity, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You almost break all over again. But he keeps talking, keeps sharing.

“I love you. No — I’m in love with you. I love you more than I can put into words. I want you and only you, and I’m not leaving you. The only reason I would ever walk out of that camp is if you were by my side, and we were leaving together.”

You are…weightless. Boneless. Held up only by Azriel’s arms. A tear rolls down your cheek, and you allow it to fall to the carpet.

“My handling of my feelings,” Az stares down at you, “has been one huge fuck up. I loved you long before you offer to let me practice intimacy on you. Experiencing those things with you…the things you made me feel…only brought those feelings to the surface. And instead of facing them as I should have done, I hid behind Kaeda to avoid them. But it was never about Kaeda. It was always you. It will always be you. And I’m scared, Y/N, I’m fucking terrified. But I’m done running. Done hiding.”

Silence sweeps into the room on swift wings, and you are suddenly incapable of thought, and of somehow turning it into words. Without Azriel’s voice to distract you, you’re aware of the tremors that wrack through his body. As though this is the scariest thing in the world to him, and he’s trying to hold strong against it.

It probably is.

He studies you closely. Croaks out, “Please say something.”

And perhaps it’s giving him the wrong impression entirely, but you’re stepping out of his arms and putting space between you. You just…need to gather your thoughts. To remember how to speak.

“I…” You blink. “I handled it badly, too.”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“I made selfish choices. I…I acted out of jealousy because I wanted you, but you and Kaeda were…”

He shakes his head resolutely. “What I told you before was true. I never touched Kaeda like that. Even before I found out about all that Fenlaros shit, I think I knew that I wouldn’t. That I couldn’t.”

A fact that breaks your heart. Your eyes fill with tears again. “But I still did. Cass and I—”

“Cassian was there for you when I should have been, and I had no right — none — to react the way that I did. If anyone did anything wrong that night, it was me. But what you and Cass did…it does not matter. Not one bit.”

You’re pivoting on the spot, turning your back to him, before you can crumble entirely. He really means it. Really does not hate you for the choice you made, even though it hurt him.

“Y/N,” Az’s voice shakes behind you. “Please…look at me.”

Now you’re confronted with the situation, part of you wants to run — to hide.

But Az is being open. Honest. No matter how hard, how terrifying it is for him…he’s here. He’s trying.

And so you’ll try, too. And you think you might be shaking just as much as he is as you turn back to him.

The two of you stare at each other. Feel the situation out with your gazes alone.

Azriel is the one to break the extended silence.

“You said you need me.” He eyes you. He’s visibly trembling all over, and it has nothing to do with the chill in the room. Trembling like he’s trying to hold himself together against the weight of the situation.

“…Yes.” You swallow. “I do, Az…I think I’ve always needed you.”

“So show me.”

You pause. Blink, your eyes blown wide. “What?”

“Show me how you need me.” He steps closer, and though he’s shaking, he outreaches a hand and find yours. “Show me how to give you what you need.”

Your fingers brush his, and you’re forcing a lump down your throat. Drinking him in. He…he’s exquisite. “You mean…”

“I mean,” the gap is closed between your bodies, and his heat is reaching you, “I don’t want to practice. I want it all…everything…with you. I want you to take me. Only you—”

You’re surging forward with so much pent-up need that when your lips collide with Azriel’s, it almost knocks you both to the floor.

But Azriel’s arms are banding around you, and he’s a pillar against you, kissing you back with just as much heat.

You don’t know which of you makes what move. Your hands are all over him, and his are all over you, and he’s walking you backwards and groaning as the kiss deepens.

You find the hem of his tunic, dip your hands under, fingertips skating warm skin that shudders beneath your touch. “Can I take this off?” You murmur, and he swallows your words greedily.

“All of it — take it all.”

And so you do. There is no method to it. You’re a woman starved and crazed as you tear at his clothing, not caring about where it ends up, so long as it’s no longer on him. More and more tan skin is exposed, more muscles, more scars. And when he kicks out of his boots and breeches and his underwear is the only remaining barrier, you’re reaching for him, for the hardness that’s pushing through the dark grey fabric and taunting you.

But Azriel reaches out an arm to gently stop you. His hand brushes your cheek, and his eyes are pure hunger as he says, “Your turn.”

And it hits you just then that up in until this point, Azriel has never seen you naked — in this capacity, anyway. There have been plenty of non-sexual circumstances over the years in which you’ve gotten a glimpse of each other, but not like this. Even when he began practicing on you, you never took your clothes off.

And you’re fucking nervous. Even more so under the press of his gaze. He looks like he may combust as you slowly move your hands to your shirt and tug the front laces loose. You pull the hem out from where it was tucked into your breeches.

The fabric parts enough that it more or less slides off you and pools on the floor. You do not meet the heavy stare that watches you so closely. You may lose your nerve if you do.

But when the last few items of clothing are off and kicked away from you, and you’re left entirely bare, you hear a sharp intake of breath. Curiosity gets the better of you. You lift your gaze and resist the urge to fold your arms over your chest.

Azriel is staring at you like…like nobody ever has before.

Like you are the rare rays of sunlight that break through the grey landscape of Windhaven. Like the world around you was forged from your own two hands.

Like you’re beautiful, and worthy, and unruined.

“…What is it?” You clear your throat, shifting on the spot.

Azriel shakes out of a daze and takes a single step closer to you. “You are…” His throat bobs, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

You almost laugh. Almost. But something stops you.

The sincerity in his tone, his eyes. The realisation that he truly means that.

Your eyes travel from his face, down his sculpted chest and stomach. The firm, toned legs and what sits beneath him. You’ve seen plenty of his body naked. But…not all at once.

You think the air might be punched from your lungs.

He’s hard as a rock — from looking at you. The tip of his cock is already leaking moisture. His wings flare proudly at his back.

“So beautiful.” He cups your jaw, guiding your eyes back up to his.

There’s nothing else you can say, in that moment, than the words that tumble from your lips.

“I love you,” you whisper.

Emotion crosses his face, and both hands are gripping your cheeks. He kisses you deeply; so deeply that it steals your breath.

And then he pulls away, and he’s repeating his earlier words, his forehead pressed to yours. “Show me — show me what you need. No games, just…you and me.”

No games, indeed. You cannot wait any longer.

You rise on the tips of your toes and claim his mouth with yours, and you’re guiding him back, back, until his legs are hitting the bed and he’s gladly falling onto it. He sprawls out, watching as you climb over him. As your hand caresses his stomach and moves down.

And when your fingertips brush the head of his cock, a deep, delicious noises rumbles in his throat.

You mop the moisture up with your palm, using it to slick the length of him and slide your hand up and down. He hisses between his teeth, hips jerking, hands bunching within the covers on your bed.

“No games,” he repeats through gritted teeth. “This is about both of us.”

And you know that, and you’re not patient enough, anyway, for foreplay right now.

It dawns on you that there will plenty of time for that.

He is not leaving Windhaven — not leaving you.

You will have experiences together beyond this one night.

And with that very fact warming your heart and making it set to burst, you place your legs either side of his body and stare down at him. His cock brushes against your centre, and he can feel how wet you already are for him. His eyes travel down.

You watch, and you ask him, quietly, “You’re sure about this?”

His gaze flicks up immediately. “I’ve never been surer about anything in my life.” He reaches out a trembling hand and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “That doesn’t mean I’m not nervous — gods, I really fucking am. So scared. I just…want to do it right. To be good for you.”

The sentiment almost brings tears to your eyes. “You couldn’t do it wrong if you tried, Az. Do you trust me?”

“With my whole heart.” He sits up a little — angles himself closer to you. “And I love you with my whole heart, too.”

And that’s all either of you need, isn’t it? Love and trust. The need that exits between you. Everything that is just…yours and Azriel’s relationship in its entirety.

Your eyes remain locked with his as you gently reach down and position his cock at your entrance. He breathes shakily. Doesn’t look away from you once.

Not as you slide down onto him just a little. You pause at the first feel of your walls stretching to accommodate him. A pleasured frown furrows his brow. A moment passes, two, and then you slide down further.

More and more. Sinking onto him. Pausing. Adjusting. With every inch of his huge length that disappears inside you, you feel like every one of your nerve endings is struck by lightning. Azriel’s head lolls back, and he makes a soft noise.

“You’re okay?” You check, hovering over him.

“You feel—” He chokes on his words. “Fuck.”

It’s the encouragement you need to sink the rest of the way onto him. The last few inches slide into you quick, thanks to the slickness that soaks your folds, and then he’s pushed into the hilt and hitting a spot so deep inside you that you can’t stifle the noise that breaks from your throat.

“Did I hurt you?” Azriel gasps, and you can only shake your head. He seems to study your face for confirmation, before he’s pushing up to kiss you.

And you kiss him back. For a moment, that’s all either of you do.

But when he’s losing himself in your mouth, his tongue dancing around yours, seemingly distracted by your kiss…only then do you lift your hips and sink down onto him again. And then you’re falling into a slow, steady rhythm.

Azriel is gasping again, his mouth moving from yours to press kisses to your jaw, your neck, your collarbones — your breasts. As you rock slowly against him, the walls of your pussy squeezing him, coaxing him, he buries his face into your chest and explores you, lips and tongue paying attention to your nipples, teeth grazing with a gentleness that’s almost heartbreaking.

“So beautiful.” He whispers, and the hands that are sitting on your hips travel up your back — up to the scars that live in the place of your stolen wings. “Gods, Y/N, you’re everything.”

You moan, rocking harder on him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You just…want to hold him to you, to feel him against you. It’s like it all comes crashing down on you that he very easily could have left.

But he didn’t. He won’t. He is here and so are you. He is yours and you are his.

“Talk to me,” you breathe, raking your nails down his arms. “Tell me how you feel.”

“So good — feels so good with you wrapped around me.”

“Yeah?” You lean down, brush a kiss to his lips. “You like being inside me?”

“There is — fuck — there is no one, Y/N, that I want to do this with, besides you.” His mouth slants over yours, and he whispers two words — take me — before he’s giving himself to your kiss.

He’s so big, so deep. And the blood in your veins feels like molten lava as the pace picks up, as his trembling begins to subside, and he grows more confident. His groans are loud, and his hands roam over your body before finally landing on your hips. Fingertips dig into your flesh with a dizzying bite, and he’s rocking you, encouraging you to take him. To fuck him.

This is not practice. This is two bolts of lighting striking in the same place. The friction between your bodies is perfect, like nothing else you’ve ever felt. The pleasure may just finish you yet. It’s electric. Addictive. You want to feel like this forever, with him.

And more pleasure floods you as in one swift move, he flips you over — takes you entirely by surprise. You’re landing on your back, and he’s hovering over you. He stills as he stares down at you.

“This is perfect.” He says, dipping down to kiss you again. It makes him move inside you suddenly, and the different angle has you both gasping into each other’s mouths. “Gods.”

“Fuck me, Az.” You moan. “Just like that.”

What starts out slow quickly builds in pace. The roll of Azriel’s hips become thrusts — and the moans, the cries, the words that leave you, all guide them to be deeper, harder. You think you could stay like this forever, with him buried inside of you, wringing pleasure from every corner of your body. It snakes through your veins and zips up your spine, and when his hand travels down and his fingers find your clit, you fucking explode.

You cry out, bucking up from the bed as your orgasm hits you full force. Azriel fucks you through it, and his groans are growing louder, more desperate, as the walls of your cunt clench around him. He breathes out a fractured, desperate noise, leaning down to brush his lips over yours as he fucks into you harder.

“I can’t last much longer.” He chokes around his pleasure, pressing quick, nipping kisses to your mouth. “I can’t—”

“Come for me.” You gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “Come inside me.”

The noise that your words coax from him is downright sinful. He grabs your hips in his hands, slants his mouth over yours. He slams into you again, again, again, and then he’s roaring his pleasure with enough force to shake the bed, and you feel every rope of come that he spills into you.

You’re trembling. Or maybe that’s him. Or both of you. Both slick with sweat, and both shaking, and both unable to hold yourselves up any longer.

Azriel collapses beside you, his body still tangled with yours. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths heating your skin. You sink a trembling hand into the strands of his hair.

“That was—” His voice hitches, “I can’t…can’t put it into words.”

Neither can you. It’s all you can do to nod as you catch your breath.

“Thank you.” A kiss is pressed against your neck. Another. Az’s arm drapes over your chest, and he moves his mouth to yours. “Thank you.”

Still void of words, you settle on kissing him. Deep. Slow. Unhurried. Your hand cups his cheek, and your tongue strokes into his mouth. Lays out a litany of sentiments that you’re currently incapable of verbalising.

It feels like you kiss each other forever. But then you’re pulling back, pressing your foreheads together. And you stare into Azriel’s eyes as you tell him once again, “I love you.”

Emotion floods his eyes, and he holds you as close to him as he possible can, murmuring onto your mouth, “I love you, too. I think I always have.”

You know you always have. You tuck yourself into his side, content to feel his skin against yours. The rest of the world floats away. There is nothing and no one but you and him. Your Azriel.

Your eyes are growing heavy when he brushes his lips against your forehead, and he whispers the words you’ve needed to hear for so, so long.

“Whatever happens, Y/N,” another kiss joins the first, “you and I will face it together.”

pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl

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starlightandsouls · 5 months ago

Text

Yours to Save, Yours to Guard

Part 2 of Yours to Have, Yours to Break

Summary: Azriel and Reader pick up the pieces of Cassian's mistake.

Warnings: angst (?), severe panic attack

A/N: it's finally here guys. I actually loved how this one turned out, filled to the brim with lots of angst and emotions that is typical of my work. I feel like last time I rushed the first part so it wasn't as impactful. Anywaysss, I hope you guys like this as much as I do, and please leave a comment telling me what you think. My motivation levels are lowwww rn and your comments always make my day!

Azriel POV

Agony tore through his heart like a viper striking its prey. Its poison seeping through his veins and making an act as simple as breathing seem laborious. How did everything collapse so quickly? How could he let it slip away from him so easily? His love… his nightingale was gone.

After somewhat coming to his senses, he had winnowed straight to his nightingale’s house, knowing that was where she would return. Just like him, she liked being alone when faced with the hurdles life threw at her. Just two sides of the same accursed coin. And that was where he found her; her room in a mess, belongings sprawled everywhere, and his nightingale sitting in the middle of it all, heaving with sobs. He had frozen at the sight, his wretched heart breaking even more. But the sound of her never ending tears had broken him out of his stupor.

Azriel immediately fell to his knees before and tried to grab her hands as he pleaded,

“My love, please, listen to me-”

He hadn’t had the chance to finish his sentenced before you wrenched your hands away from his, as if his very touch burned you. The thought of that pierced through his very being.

“Don’t touch me, you… You fucking cheat!” You roared. To say he was shocked would be an understatement; his nightingale never yelled at anyone, no matter how upset she was. He didn’t even know you were capable of such fury, let alone releasing it at him. You had gotten up from your place at the foot of your bed and had moved away from him to another corner of the room. Pointless as he followed you right away.

“It’s not what it looked like, will you please listen to me?”

“Really, Azriel? Could you sound any more typical right now? You know, if you had the guts to have an affair, you should have at least come up with a better excuse when you were with her,” you spat at him. The hatred burning bright in your eyes made him want to fall to his knees before you. But he knew he had to explain…he had to tell you what happened. This was his one chance, otherwise he’d lose you forever.

“I didn’t! I would never! I swear on my life, I have no idea why Elain was there, or why she did what she did. I had no part of it, I swear to you. Please just think about it. If I wanted to be with her, why would I have made plans with you? To celebrate our anniversary no less?” he pleaded.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe you got tired of me, hm? Why mess around with some ‘commoner’ when you can have the High Lady’s sister?”

What? Where were you getting all this from? Why were you thinking like this? You weren’t like this and neither was he…and you…you knew that.

“Love…please,” Azriel begged as he moved closer trying to reach for your hands. Yet again you evaded him and moved away to another corner. It was as if the two were dancing a dance of push and pull, one always out of reach of the other. You turned around and just…looked at him.

“You know, when she came to me, and with everything she said…I didn’t believe her. Even when every part of my being was begging me to, I thought…my Azriel wouldn’t do that to me. He loves me, not her. Why couldn’t you keep my trust Azriel? Why did you shatter it like this?”

“Told you what? Love, please, if you don’t want to listen to me at least tell me what Elain said to you. So that I can prove to you that it is a lie.” Azriel was genuinely at a loss for words. As the situation progressed, he became more and more confused.

“She came to the bookshop before I left, Elain. At first I thought she was a customer, but no…she was there to steal something else altogether. And imagine how shocked I was when she told me that you have been having an affair with her for the past year. That the only reason the two of you kept it a secret was because of the High Lord. And now that he approves of your relationship, the two of you don’t have to hide anymore. Which is why you were going to break up with me today.”

Azriel fell quiet at that and stared at you for a good five minutes trying to process the words that just came out of your mouth. The sheer insanity of it only worsened his addled mind.

“Darling, that is…she’s lying. How can you believe her? Why would you believe her? What proof did she give you? Why would you trust some stranger over.. me?” Azriel demanded, his own anger rising. He was the innocent one here yet no one seemed to want to listen to him.

“Is it not the truth then?”

“NO!”

It was a battle of wills now. Both of you were simmering with fury right now- you with your rage at being betrayed and Azriel with his frustration at being ignored. Two sides of the same coin indeed.

Knowing he had to be the one to surrender, that be had to placate you if he wanted this relationship to survive, Azriel softened. He extinguished the rage that was threatening to burn their love to the ground and walked closer to you again. He reached for your hands to offer yet another apology, an explanation…anything to get you to show mercy.

But you snatched your hand back with such…disgust, as if his touch had burned you.

“Get your filthy hands off me, you fucking cheat!” you screamed, “don’t touch me!”

Azriel immediately let go of you. A thousand ash arrows could have pierced him on the battlefield and they would have hurt him less than the utter hate and disgust marring your usually soft features.

“Love…” A final plead, a final beg…the last thread holding them together. One last try of reaching out from the darkness he was drowning in.

“I said DON’T TOUCH ME! They were all right about you…you…you’re just another Illyrian brute who uses women as he pleases. I was a fool to think you were different, that you…you loved me.” All the hate had vanished in an instant from your face, replaced by something worse. In its place was a crestfallen defeat, the ravaging fire of fury replaced with silver tears now streaming down your face.

And it was the sight of your tears that told Azriel it was all lost… he had lost. He had sworn an oath once, to you, to himself, that he would never cause you an ounce of heartbreak.

The memory seemed bittersweet now. You had been crying because of some novel that you were reading as a hero had died tragically at the end. In his attempts to cheer you up he had remarked how this made him better than the heroes of novels that you always fawned over, for he never made you cry.

“Sure of ourselves are we?” you had asked with a smirk, your amusement returning to your gaze.

Mission accomplished, he had thought to himself.

“Of course, I never hurt you so there is no reason for you to cry,” he had answered.

“So do you promise then, Shadowsinger, that you will never make me cry?” you had jested.

“I swear on it my nightingale. I will never make you cry, I promise.”

It looked like you were thinking of the same memory, that now seemed almost a millennia ago. Had they been that happy? Was that what their life had been like? Happiness now seemed like a foreign country, whose borders had no room for immigrants like him.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said before he winnowed away to his house in Velaris. Before shadows engulfed him completely, he could have sworn he saw you crumble to the ground.

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

His lounge came into view, exactly as he had left it. But everything seemed strange, foreign. As he stood in the absolute silence of his house, the reality of what had happened settled in on him. He stumbled to the couch, his vision blurring slightly, making the journey troublesome.

Azriel’s heart pounded like a drum in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of the emptiness that now filled his house. The room spun around him, the walls closing in as if trying to crush him under the weight of his despair. He sank to the floor, his back against the couch where he and his nightingale had once spent countless evenings tangled together, laughing, and whispering secrets.

“She’s gone,” he gasped, his voice barely a whisper. His breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps, and he felt like he was suffocating. He clutched his chest, the pressure unbearable. His mind raced with images of you just moments ago; you looking at him with such disgust, you wrenching your hands away from his, your tears streaming down your grief stricken face.

“No, no, no,” he muttered, rocking back and forth. “This can’t be happening. She can’t be gone. My nightingale can’t be gone.”

His vision blurred with tears, and he could barely see the room around him. Everything felt surreal, like a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. His fingers dug into the carpet, seeking some grounding, some way to make the pain stop. But nothing helped. The anguish was too deep, too consuming. How could this happen? How had he let this happen? His nightingale was the one gift he had stolen from the Mother. The one happiness he had gotten in this miserable life. It… It wasn’t fair. He always gave up every thing, he did everything for everyone…so why wasn’t he allowed this one happiness? Why did the Mother hate him so much to dangle this beautiful fate in front of him all these years only to snatch it away? Which one of his sins was he being punished for?

Memories of their time together flashed through his mind. Your smile, the way you looked at him with those eyes full of love, the sound of your laughter that always made his heart soar. And now, it was all gone. You were gone. The realization hit him like a sledgehammer, and he doubled over, choking on sobs.

“I need you,” he cried out, his voice breaking. “Please, come back. I can’t do this without you.”

But the silence was his only answer. The home that had once been their sanctuary now felt like a tomb, cold and empty. He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn’t support him. He fell to his knees, his body shaking with the force of his sobs.

“Why did you leave?” he wailed, his voice echoing off the walls. “Why?”

His breath came in shallow gasps, each one a struggle. He felt lightheaded, his vision tunneling. He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to calm himself, but the panic was relentless. It clawed at him, tearing him apart from the inside.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry.”

But you weren’t there to hear him. You were gone, and he was alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. He was alone again, like he had always been, like he had always meant to be. The realization tore through him, a fresh wave of agony that left him breathless. He curled into a ball on the floor, his body wracked with sobs, and let the darkness close in.

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

Cassian POV:

He had stayed in the training arena long after his brother had left, trying to come up with a possible explanation. Azriel didn’t blow up like that… ever. No matter what trial or pain they were going through, his brother was the one who grounded them all; always a calm, stoic presence. For him to react this way, he knew something major had to have happened. But what?

Cassian knew this mystery could only be solved by the culprit behind it, and his brother had conveniently provided him with a name: Elain.

Immediately he set off to find the particular Archeron sister that had apparently caused his brother so much woe. Knowing Elain, she was in one of two places: the kitchens or the gardens. And the latter seemed to be her choice of the day as that is where he found her; pruning away at some roses, humming a tune, as if she hadn’t… done whatever it is that she had done, but Cassian knew it had to be horrible.

Azriel may be Spymaster, but centuries as General had taught him to read people in an instant, and Elain Archeron despite all her self perceived slyness and schemes, was an open book. He noticed how she stiffened as he approached, how her stabs at the soil got much swifter, he noticed the panic on her face that she tried but failed to school into nonchalance.

“Elain,” he greeted plainly, wanting her to slowly succumb to her panic before he asked her anything.

“Cassian, strange seeing you here. Nesta’s not here if that’s who you are looking for.”

“No, actually, I was looking for you. You haven’t happen to have seen Azriel today have you?” he inquired.

“Az? No…no I haven’t seen him for quite some time actually,” she answered but that one second look of panic, of fear, gave her away. It cemented her as the culprit behind whatever crime she had committed against his brother. Elain then proceeded to grab some flowers she had plucked, put them in a basket, and attempted to walk past him. But he blocked her path and glared right back at her,

“Elain, what the hell did you do?” he demanded, emphasizing every single word.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” again she tried to maneuver past him but he didn’t budge an inch.

“Elain,” he growled, “you’re going to tell me what you did. Right. The. Fuck. Now.”

And that was when she crumbled. She broke down- crocodile tears if you ask him- and recalled every single thing she had done: from eavesdropping his conversation with Nesta, to asking around about the girl Azriel was with by using her name, visiting her bookshop, then ambushing Azriel at the café. At the end of it, Cassian was speechless. He looked at the woman in front of him and saw a stranger. Elain, sweet Elain, always assumed by everyone to be innocent and kind. The crime she had committed twisted her features into something ugly and heinous- mirroring her vile heart.

“How could you?”

“Cauldron! Why doesn’t anyone understand me? I love him!! And he was messing around with that…that bitch. I deserve him, not her!” Elain screamed, a wildness overtaking her expression.

“You do not deserve anything, Elain. You can’t force someone to love you. And you don’t hurt the people you love. What did you think was going to happen, huh? That you would break up Azriel’s relationship, his very happy relationship, and he would what? Run happily to you? Are you honestly that delusional?!” Cassian roared back.

“It doesn’t matter. I wanted him first. What right does she have to just waltz in and steal him from me?”

“She didn’t steal anyone, Elain. Azriel was never yours-”

“Well then at least he’s not hers anymore now either. If I can’t have him, no one can,” she said coolly as if she had told some joke. The calmness with which she said it took out all the fight from his body.

“You’re pathetic,” he whispered. And with that he made to leave.

“Wait, where are you going?” she called after him.

“To find my brother. Rhysand will deal with you.”

What Elain had done was unforgivable; intentionally breaking up his dear brother’s relationship like that, ambushing him with a kiss against his will…was no less than assault. And Cassian had a sinking feeling Rhysand would have a lot to say to the middle Archeron sister.

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

Flying to the River House, he barged in to find Rhysand. Azriel’s reaction to everything made it clear that the situation was more serious than he had anticipated. He also knew that he needed Rhysand to intervene and help come to solution since Azriel would not listen to a word Cassian said. What the hell. The cat was already out of the bag, he might as well tell Rhys too, just so he can help Cassian clean up this mess.

Thankfully, Feyre was not home. He really didn’t want to tell his High Lady about her own sister’s crimes- he would much rather leave that conversation to Rhys. Speaking of, he found the High Lord in his study going over reports. His brother gave a warm smile as he saw Cassian walk in but his face fell at his expression.

“What’s happened?”

Cassian sighed and recounted the whole debacle, starting from when he first saw Azriel and his girlfriend at the café to his recent conversation with Elain. To say his brother was seething by the end would be an understatement. One thing about Rhys was that he is insanely protective of his family and while Elain might be his sister in law, the three of them had been at each other’s side for five centuries- it was no mystery of who was given priority.

And what Elain had done… His brother never spoke of it but he knew Rhysand was still haunted by his time Under the Mountain, by Amarantha. Even more than before his brother had always been the one to enforce the importance of consent, in every aspect of life, not just intimacy. For Elain to so blatantly ignore his brother’s refusal must have struck a chord with Rhys. The High Lord was now pacing in his office, almost shaking with anger.

“Where is she now?” the High Lord demanded.

Knowing he must be talking about Elain, he answered, “She’s at the House of Wind.”

“Cauldron, I just want to… never mind we’ll deal with her later. Where’s Az?”

“I have no idea. He winnowed away from the training arena and I haven’t seen him since. He wasn’t in his room at the House of Wind, and he’s not here either,” Cassian explained.

“He must be at his own place then. Let’s go.”

“Me? Shouldn’t you go on your own? He seemed really pissed off, Rhysand. Maybe you should go on your own, I don’t want to make anything worse,” Cassian said hesitantly.

“Don’t be a fool, Cass. What’s happened has happened. We can’t change it. But we can make Azriel hear us out right now. Let’s go.”

With that the two brothers winnowed away in search of their third, terrified of what they might find.

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

Arriving at Azriel’s place they were met with darkness and a pungent stench of alcohol. Walking further into the house, they found Azriel passed out on his couch, the coffee table littered with empty bottles of vodka. Shit. Shit. Shit. Azriel had only confronted Cassian in the training arena this morning. Just how much had he drank since then in this short period of time. Turning to Rhysand, he saw similar horror in his eyes. Azriel never drank like this. It was usually Cassian who blacked out drunk on nights out, Azriel-ever the vigilant Spymaster- would always remain sober enough to keep track of his surroundings.

Rhysand walked over and gently shook Azriel awake, emitting several groans from the passed out male.

“Az, wake up brother,” Rhysand prodded him gently.

Azriel only let out another groan in response and covered his eyes with his arm, burrowing in further into the couch.

“C’mon none of that,” Rhysand said, pushing him again. Eventually, Rhysand managed to get Azriel up and sitting on the couch. The sway to his body and his unfocused eyes confirmed what they were already suspecting: Azriel was very, very drunk.

Out of nowhere, Azriel made to get up but his intoxication was clearly affecting his motor skills as he stumbled and would have face planted on the floor but luckily Rhysand caught him in his arms.

“Easy there brother…”

“I’m fine,” Azriel grumbled before pushing off of Rhys. His slurred words telling that he was very much not fine. Azriel then made to walk to the kitchen when his eyes landed on him. Cassian steeled himself, readying himself for another onslaught of Azriel’s accusations, knowing full well he deserved them. Honestly he would have preferred the yelling. Because Azriel said… nothing. The utter defeat in his brother’s eyes made Cassian want to die almost. Azriel only pushed past Cassian to the kitchen, not even sparing him another glance.

The two of them assumed perhaps Azriel was getting a glass of water but were immediately proven wrong when they saw him rummaging through cabinets and pulling out yet another bottle of vodka.

“Hey now, none of that. You’ve had enough Azriel,” Rhysand exclaimed, the authority in his voice urging Az to listen.

“Yeah, I’ve just about had enough with all this,” Azriel said with a wry laugh, still stumbling where he stood when he took another sip of the bottle. The bastard was going to give himself alcohol poisoning at this rate if he didn’t slow down. Not being able to watch any longer, Cassian rushed forward to grab the bottle from his brother’s hands only to be pushed right back,

“Don’t fucking touch me. This is… it’s all your fault,” Azriel barked.

“Okay so we’re talking now, good,” Rhysand said all of a sudden. Azriel laughed a dry laugh,

“I have nothing to say to anyone, get the hell out.”

“Az, we know you’re upset” Rhysand started but was interrupted by Azriel,

“Upset doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling right now, Rhysand. So why don’t you take your fake sympathy and pity and shove it up your ass.”

With that Azriel pushed past the two of them and moved towards his room. Cassian followed, knowing he had to get through to Az right now if they wanted any chance to fix this mess.

“Azriel listen to me-” Cassian started, pushing past the door when Azriel tried to slam it in his face, “No you’re going to listen whether you like it or not. Yes, I knew about your girlfriend. I saw the two of you at the café by the Sidra because I’d been out to get some things for Nesta and the girls. Yes, I was upset and hurt that you didn’t tell me, especially after I found out that you had been courting her for two years. And yes I told Nesta, which I realize was a mistake as well. It was not my place to tell her. But I was only discussing it with my mate because I was upset about it. And she swore not to tell anyone either. I… I didn’t tell Elain. She was eavesdropping our conversation from our bedroom door and she asked around about you girlfriend through her name. I didn’t tell her Az, let alone send her there. I… I would never ruin your happiness like that, brother.”

Cassian was panting at the end of his rant, out of breath from all the emotions he had let out, but he knew he had to get through to Azriel right now. Or else this misunderstanding would only get worse. Rhysand now stood behind him, ready to jump in between his two brothers in case he needed to.

Azriel only stared back at him as a single tear made its way down his face,

“It doesn’t matter… none of it matters. My nightingale.. she’s gone. She left. She left me and I can’t… I can’t breathe… I can’t…”

Cassian saw the sudden shift in his brother; how Azriel’s panicked gaze flitted across the room quicker than his shadows, how he began to grab at his chest, his neck. Immediately Cassian moved to his brother,

“Hey, Az. Just breathe okay. You’re alright, “ Cassian tried comforting his brother, wanting to ground him before he spiraled into a full on panic attack. He put Azriel’s hand on his own chest, trying to get Az to match his breathing.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re okay, you’re safe,” Cassian repeated the mantra he had uttered a thousand times to his brother. Despite his stoic attitude, out of all of them, Azriel had always been more prone to panic attacks, had been since childhood. Perhaps it was his silent, secretive nature, Azriel always kept his issues to himself, never voicing them to anyone or complaining. Maybe bottling up everything in such a way was what caused his brother to collapse from time to time. There’s only so much a person can take, even if they are as strong as his brother.

Eventually Azriel’s breaths calmed and he crumbled in Cassian’s arms. Slowly the two fell to the floor and Azriel… just cried. Cassian looked at Rhysand who had a similarly shocked expression. They had never, ever seen Azriel break down like this. Cassian was at a loss for words, and it must have seemed like it too, because Rhys walked over and kneeled by them too.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright, Az. I know all seems lost right now but we’ll fix this. I swear it,” Rhys comforted.

“You can’t… fix anything,” Azriel let out amidst his sobs, “she’s gone, she doesn’t even want to see me.”

As Azriel’s sobs got more violent, the two brothers became more and more concerned. None of their attempts to calm him down were working and at this rate they were worried he might as well spiral into another panic attack. .

“Why does this always happen to me? I do everything for everyone… I always give up everything. Why can’t I have this one thing? Why can’t anyone love me? Why does everyone always leave?” Azriel lamented, hiccupping because of the tears.

To say Cassian’s heart broke in that moment would be an understatement. It was then that he swore to the Mother that he would fix this for his brother, even if he had to give up everything he had for it.

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

Cassian had left Azriel with Rhysand after he had pried your name and whereabouts from Azriel. It had been difficult with Az not even wanting to mention your name but eventually he had succumbed to Cassian’s persistence. He was ashamed to admit that he had used his brother’s still drunken state to pry information out of him but whatever. It was for a good cause.

Now he was standing outside your door. He had first visited The Quill- a bookshop he now knew you owned, Nesta would be delighted- but unfortunately it was closed for the day. Knocking he waited for a response but got none. Not knowing what else to do, he knocked again. Azriel hadn’t mentioned another location, if you weren’t here Cassian didn’t know what he would do.

He was about to knock again when a muffled voice called out,

“I’m coming!”

So you were home. Great. As Cassian was preparing what to say the door opened and… shit. There you were, looking just as bad as Azriel; swollen eyes, puffy face, red nose. All indicators of a long crying session. Cassian wanted to kick himself: just how many people had he hurt with his hot headedness.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

It was at your question that Cassian realized that he had been gawking at you, which instantly snapped him out of his stupor.

“Yes, sorry about that. I was hoping we could talk for a moment. I’m Cassian, Azriel’s brother?”

He hoped that Az had at least mentioned him to you otherwise this was going to be a very difficult conversation. However, your face fell as he mentioned Azriel’s name-shit- and you began to close the door in his face as you said,

“I have nothing to say to you. Goodbye.”

And you had almost slammed the door in Cassian’s face but he wrenched his feet in between the door,

“Look I’m sorry. I know you’re angry and hurt and you have every right to be but please… please listen to me. I won’t take long, just a moment… Please.”

Internally Cassian begged every deity out there to bless you with some mercy, some understanding. And despite recent events proving otherwise, it seemed just this once fate was on his side as you opened the door to let him in and took him to your drawing room. Crossing your arms in front you, you stared back at him with a fiery gaze, daring him to say whatever it is he wanted to say. Feisty. He was beginning to see why his brother liked you.

“If Azriel has sent you here to offer some made up apologies, I would recommend you save your time and leave,” you said before Cassian could get anything out.

“No, not an apology, an explanation.”

You scoffed and started to move away but Cassian continued before you could leave,

“Look whatever happened that day in the café, it wasn’t Azriel’s fault. It was…mine.”

He could see how your ears piqued up at that as you turned to him with inquisitive eyes. He had your attention then… good. So Cassian began again and told his tale, explaining Elain overhearing his conversation with Nesta, her vile schemes and also her long held affections for his brother. But he made it a point to reiterate how his brother had never returned those affections and that it was only after Cassian found out about you that he understood why- because his heart already belonged to another, to you.

“So please, if you want to take out your anger on anyone, take it out on me, take it out on Elain, but please do not punish my brother. He has no fault in all of this, and he can’t live without you. I know that now.”

Cassian had left after that, knowing you needed some time to process everything. He only hoped that he had done enough for his brother, and that the two lovers could find their way back to each other again.

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

Having cleared the misunderstanding between the two lovers, Cassian and Rhysand’s attentions had turned to the culprit: Elain. Rhys’s fury had returned full force when he was face to face with her. As he had raged and yelled, at one point Cassian thought Rhysand might end up killing Elain altogether- Azriel’s breakdown only acting as fuel to the fire. Seeing Azriel cry as he did had sparked a violent need for revenge in the two brothers.

In the end, Elain had survived- Cassian suspected probably because of Feyre. But Rhysand would no longer tolerate her in Velaris, even for Feyre. As punishment, Rhysand had sent her to Wind Haven where she would stay for the foreseeable future. With no allowance form Rhys, she would have to earn her keep by working in the camp, as all the “commoners” did. Cassian had almost laughed when Rhysand had thrown Elain’s insult to you right back at her. With that out of the way, Cassian had turned to you and his brother.

As it turns out, his brother and his lover were equally stubborn. Despite the air being cleared between the two of you, both parties being absolved of guilt, neither of you was willing to take the first step. Azriel was still convinced that you wanted nothing to do with him, that you did not want to see him. And you… you had somehow managed to convince yourself that in the argument that had taken place between you and Azriel, you had hurt him to such a measure that you could not face him.

Ultimately, Cassian wanted to slam his head against a wall. Neither of you was willing to budge so he knew he had to take matters into his own hands. Therefore he had concocted a simple plan. He had convinced Azriel to take an evening stroll with him, claiming that his brother had spent too many days locked up in his house, drinking and brooding, that he needed some fresh air. In the end it had taken a direct order from Rhysand to get Azriel out of the house. Cassian knew his brother did not like to play rank with them but in this case it was necessary. If he was left to his own devices Azriel would most likely wither away in his home.

Well, they had gone flying and had even stopped at a restaurant where Cassian had forced his brother to eat- because Azriel did look like a walking corpse. It was when they were walking by the Sidra thkat the second component of his plan arrived- you.

The two lovers froze as they spotted each other. Now that the two were face to face, they had to talk.

“Oh, damn it. I was supposed to take Nesta flying. Well I better leave. Enjoy your walk Azriel.” With that Cassian took to the sky but not before he saw his brother’s accusatory glare. As he soared to the clouds, he sent a prayer to the Mother to soften both your hearts and allow the two of you to work out your differences- if only for the sake of your love.

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

Azriel POV:

The scene was rather poetic; two lovers mirroring each other’s pain. Your eyes looked hollow and sunken, as he was sure his did as well, indicative of long nights spent crying instead of sleeping.

He knew he couldn’t walk away, as much as his mind was begging him to. He wasn’t that cowardly. So he slowly approached you, allowing you the chance to walk away, but thankfully you moved to him as well.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice hoarse from days of not using it- he hadn’t really fell like talking to anyone. You nodded and the pair walked over to the bench that gave a brilliant view of the river in front of them, yet at the moment all seemed bland and gray.

“So…”

“I’m sorry,” the two of you said at the same time.

“Sorry? Nightingale, what are you sorry for? It was my fault… I…” Azriel didn’t know what his fault was but he knew his darling was not to be blamed.

“No, you have done nothing wrong. Your brother, Cassian, he explained everything, everything that the bitch did,” you spat out, “It is my fault Azriel. You… You did nothing at all. That bitch kissed you against your will and I blamed you for it. And I am so sorry for that, Azriel.”

Azriel was at a loss. He had walked into this conversation expecting to be confronted and now… he was confused.

“I should have listened to you, I should have stopped to think but I didn’t and I’m so sorry Azriel,” you cried, tears lining your eyes.

“Its okay, nightingale. It was the heat of the moment, you didn’t have to time to react to what you saw. I probably would have reacted the same.”

And it was true. With how possessive he was, Azriel knew seeing his nightingale with another man would not have ended well.

“But you came to me… You came to my house to explain yourself even when you had done nothing wrong… And I didn’t even listen, and I said such horrible things. I’m so so sorry Azriel,” you said amidst tears as your head fell into your hands.

Instantly, he took you into his arms. And just like that he felt whole again. You were where you belonged, and that’s all that matters. But you pulled away and took his hands in your own,

“I need you to know, Azriel. I did not mean anything I said, not a single thing. Everything I said about your hands and you… I meant none of it. I was just so angry and I used your insecurities against you and I am so so sorry for that. Please, I understand if you do not wish to be with me any longer, but please forgive me. I won’t ever be able to forgive myself for hurting you like that, I’m so so sorry Az.”

With that you broke down into tears and Azriel pulled you back into his arms, every part of his soul begging him to comfort you, to provide solace.

“Love, its okay, I forgive you. I know you did not mean it, because I know my nightingale holds no malice for anyone in her heart. Yes it did hurt in the moment but we were both not thinking straight in the moment.”

“You shouldn’t forgive me so easily,” you remarked as you wiped away some tears.

“I think that should be for me to decide, no?”

A strange silence fell between them, one that had had no place in their relationship before. It was the gnawing kind that slowly began to suffocate you. The two of you had resolved the misunderstanding but so much had been done, so much had been said, that they didn’t know how to move past it. So they sat quietly side by side, staring at the river before them, wondering to themselves if it could carry away their woe as well.

No matter how much he tried to ignore it, there was one question that was gnawing at the back of his mind. Azriel knew if he wanted any hope for their relationship to survive, he had to ask it now. Otherwise they could try to move past this together and dance around it, ignoring it’s presence as it slowly suffocated Azriel to death.

“Why didn’t you come for me, when Cassian had told you the truth?”

You turned to glance at him, the pain shining through your eyes, then turned back to the River as you answered,

“I was afraid, afraid that you would turn me away. Already I had convinced myself that I did not deserve you… everything that happened only cemented the fact that I would only hurt you.”

That- was not what he was expecting. He had thought perhaps you had already given up on their relationship, maybe you didn’t think him worth the effort. To think that you thought yourself unworthy… it wasn’t like you. Some deep instinct of his told him there was more. He wasn’t the Spymaster for nothing.

“Where is this coming from, love?”

“I don’t know, Azriel. I’ve just been struggling so much these past few months. Freya, she made these new friends that we’ve been hanging out with. And she told them about us, our relationship, and the things they said have been getting to my head. They found it very hard to imagine that you would date someone like me. They always commented how you could always find someone richer or belonging to a more royal family. And one of them… one of them even said that because you go to all these different courts, you probably have loads of affairs. And you… You were gone for so long, and I know it was for work, I understand that completely, I knew that when we got together. But they wouldn’t stop saying it. So when Elain showed up to my shop… everything she said and then what I saw at the café, it was like vindication for my fears. Like you had proven them right. I got so caught up in their hate- that I lost track of us in between.”

You again started crying at the end of the rant, it providing a much needed catharsis. Azriel was…speechless. He knew first hand how painful such insecurities were and to imagine that yours had dug so deep that you doubted their relationship… That you doubted yourself, made him want to stab his own heart out. Taking you into his arms, he whispered,

“My love, your are not wrong for having fears or insecurities. Everyone has them. You should have told me about them. That was your one mistake, you should have let me help you.”

Turning to look at him, you gazed into his eyes as if searching them for some way out of this mess.

“How do we move past this, Azriel?” You asked sadly.

“Well, we start by forgiving each other. And by promising that we never let a third get in between us again; whether that’s Freya, Elain, my brothers, anyone. Never again, nightingale. Whatever issues we have, whatever fears, we solve them together. Can you promise that?”

“Yes, my love, I promise,” you answered with a smile.

“So we’re together again?” he asked with a smirk and you answered by throwing yourself into his arms. And as he held you in his arms, Azriel swore it was then that he took his first breath in weeks. He knew this was far from over. He knew it would take time to rebuild their relationship and their trust in each other to way it was, knew it would take time to fight away your insecurities along side his own. But in this moment, he only shuffled closer to you, inhaling your scent to give solace to his weary heart.

Pulling away, he wiped the tears from your face and asked with a smirk,

“Well, it is way past the date, but would you be interested in a belated, anniversary breakfast my lady?”

In answer you only let out a laugh of your own, the sound more melodious to Azriel than the sweetest opera, and you took his hand in your own as the two of you began to walk towards your favorite café, where all this heartbreak had started.

The two of you walked hand in hand to the same café, hearts beating as one, to a new start.

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