#azriel x reader x cassian
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the ebb and flow of fate
Cazriel x f!Reader (Mor’s sister)
(part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (epilogue)
Summary: “Did you piss her off?” He leaned back, mouth curving into a smirk. The smirk quickly disappeared when Rhys explained what happened.
“Tell her she can come on her own feet, or over my shoulder.”
Word Count: ~6.2k
Warnings: eventual smut in later chapters, sexual assault, harassment, stalking, nightmares, light smut-ish (m/m, briefly described), light angst, liberal use of bargains, minors dni!
A/N: this was written for day 20 of my kink/angst-tober prompts but, my patience is limited and I needed to get this out of into the world and out of my brain for a bit. part 2 will be posted 10/20.
Something in her had been … off, ever since she visited a friend in the Autumn Court. Of course, they had all heavily protested her choice, but she’d been a friend of hers for years, and she firmly held her ground - insisting everything would be fine and that they didn’t know of her relation to them.
It was driving all of them to the verge of insanity trying to figure out exactly what happened. Rhys gently probed against her mind once, and was immediately shut out - the walls going up like impenetrable iron gates, and a litany of creative curses were shouted down the hall.
-
“How was your visit?” Mor asked hesitantly. She was curled up in an armchair, eyes quickly scanning the page, a full plate of food - likely a few hours old, still on the table beside her.
“Fine.” Y/n replied, not looking up. The same answer she’d given everyone all week.
“Any more details?” She probed.
She slammed the book shut, looking up at her. “What else do you want me to say?” Her voice was low, and she could tell her anger was rising to dangerous levels. Maybe it would be worth provoking y/n’s temper, if only to get some kind of reaction out of her.
“You won’t eat, you won’t talk to us, and you’re walking around like a gods-damned ghost.”
She plucked a grape from the plate next to it, popping it in her mouth with an indignant look on her face. “Better?” Gods, she was going to kill her - sister or not.
“I want you to tell me what the fuck happened before Rhys and I storm over there and kill someone.” Mor spat, rising to her feet. Y/n rose with her, throwing the blanket off, fists clenched at her side.
“That’s not necessary.”
“You can tell us anything, you know that right?” She tried to keep her voice gentle, soft even.
“I’m aware,” she snipped, “but that doesn’t mean it’s any of your business.”
“For Cauldron’s sake.” She ran a hand through her hair, squeezing her eyes shut before leaving the room - in case she said or did anything she regretted.
“Any luck?” Rhys asked from the end of the hallway.
“Don’t act like you weren’t eavesdropping.”
He grimaced, but turned to stride with her. “It’s been three days.” He said quietly, “Cassian and Azriel will be back tomorrow.”
If anyone can get answers out of her, it would be those two. Even Amren couldn’t reach her.
-
“Where’s y/n?” Cassian asked the next day. Mor looked to Rhys with a grimace. A shadow curled around Azriel’s ear.
“In her room probably.” Mor replied. The same place she’d spent most of her time in.
“Did you piss her off?” He leaned back, mouth curving into a smirk. The smirk quickly disappeared when Rhys explained what happened.
“Tell her she can come on her own feet, or over my shoulder.”
He relayed the message, and they all heard the sound of something slamming - along with a wince from Rhys. Mor figured she’d likely shouted something into his mind. Two minutes passed, and nothing. Cassian glanced at Azriel, and the two Illyrians rose - heading down the hall.
“Good luck.” Mor muttered behind them and Rhys snorted.
-
“What’s wrong with you?” Cassian’s voice echoed through the room as her door swung open - hitting the wall hard enough there might be a small dent.
“Nothing.” She muttered, turning over in her bed and tugging the blankets closer to her. Azriel exchanged a look with him.
“Get up.” Cassian barked.
“Fuck off.”
“Not happening princess.” He strode towards the side of the bed, ripping the blanket back. He was greeted by a book careening towards his face, one he deflected with a shield. “You can do better than that.” He tugged the pillow out from under her and she shot up to sit. His stance widened, feet braced on the floor - prepared for a fight.
“Leave. Me. Alone.” Y/n said through gritted teeth.
Cassian hummed, tilting his head as if he was debating it. “No.”
“On your feet or over his shoulder, your choice.” Azriel said from behind him. His voice was flat and smooth. Another book launched - where the hell had it come from? And Cassian let it fly over his head, knowing exactly who it was aimed for. A low snarl came from the corner of the room, and Azriel strode up to stand next to him, forming a wall. Y/n, of course, didn’t look intimidated and no fear came from her - but he did see caution in her eyes.
“You’re a brat.” The shadowsinger commented, with a tilt of his head. A predator assessing her, waiting for her next move.
She sent him a vulgar gesture, and apparently Azriel was fed up because quicker than she could react, he had her slung over his shoulder, stalking out her door with a shield covering his wings.
Smart, he thought as he followed, he didn’t doubt y/n would use that to her advantage. She’s done it before, raking her nails up his wings and nearly getting herself killed.
He deposited her at the table, shoving her down into the seat next to him before pushing it in. Cassian took up vigil on her other side. If he thought she was angry before, she was absolutely fuming now - sending both him and Azriel a look that promised a slow, slow death. He rolled his eyes, he’d been on the receiving ends of that look frequently, and it didn’t phase him.
“I thought it was over your shoulder.” Rhys’s voice flooded into his mind.
“Azriel took care of it.”
“Obviously. Did she throw anything at you?”
“Yes.” A strained chuckle came from Rhys, and he felt his presence leave.
She sat there, taking small sips of water and avoiding eye contact from anyone.
Cassian let out a low groan before filling her plate with food.
Mor and Rhys exchanged a glance, their eyes glazing over slightly. “We have things to take care of,” Mor gave an awkward excuse and they both rose. Leaving them to the wolves, then. Wolf - actually.
“Don’t make me feed you like a child.” Azriel told her when the two were out of earshot.
“You wouldn’t,” y/n countered, but didn’t sound confident. Azriel reached for her fork, and she snatched it away from him, spearing a piece of food instead and slowly raising it to her mouth.
“Are you going to tell us what happened?” Cassian asked her.
She ignored the question, choosing to eat small bites of food instead.
“Or I can go find out for myself,” Azriel offered.
“No,” she said too quickly. “Don’t.”
-
She was confident Azriel would go find out what happened, and that’s not what she wanted. Regardless of whether he heard it from her or figured it out himself, it wouldn’t go over well. But, if they were here when they did learn there’s a better chance of her de-escalating the situation.
“I’m not ready to talk about it.” Her hand shook, palms going clammy. She saw them exchange a worried look out of her peripherals and for some reason it incensed her further. She’d had enough of people worrying. Well, she fully knew she’d been acting like a ‘brat’ as Az would say for the last few days. But, in her defense they were all busy-bodies who couldn’t mind their own damn business.
“When will you be?” Cassian sounded … gentle, almost. Like she was some breakable doll. She firmly placed a lid down on her anger, shoving it away.
“I’ll let you know.”
“You have until tomorrow night.” Azriel cut in. With a low and obnoxious groan, she slumped in her seat. “Finish your food,” he directed. A particularly nasty look was shot his way, but she relented.
There’s not a doubt in her mind that he’d make her eat if she refused. The two of them were overbearing and annoying, but meant well. Y/n knew Rhys had sent them in, considering his, Mor’s and even Amren’s attempts had all failed.
“I thought you’d be happier to see us,” Cassian teased, nudging his shoulder with hers. “It’s been two weeks.”
“I am happy to see you,” she mumbled. It’s the truth, she was glad to see him, and if she’d actually known they were back she probably would’ve left to at least check they’re in one piece.
As soon as she’d cleared her plate, Cassian looped his arm in between hers - not giving her a chance to go anywhere. “We’re training.”
“I just ate.” She protested, but it didn’t work. Azriel trailed them outside, hopefully to make sure Cassian didn’t end up working her to the point she threw up.
-
She realized the mistake exactly as it happened, both arms raising for a block - and her shirt lifting as well. Revealing two yellowing hand print shaped bruises on her waist. She forced her expression to remain still, to not react, and hoped they hadn’t noticed. But, Cassian stilled. Eyes focused on where her shirt now covered her stomach. Y/n could’ve taken the opportunity to strike him, but didn’t.
“Where are those from?” He asked her, and she could tell he was struggling to keep his voice even. They’d caught Azriel’s attention as well, from where he was standing a few paces away from the ring. Based on the predatory look of rage in his eyes, he’d seen everything.
“None of -”
“Don’t.” The general cut in shortly.
“It’s fine.” She insisted, going on the defensive.
“Is that … part of what has you upset?” His throat bobbed, and she could tell he was trying very hard to keep himself calm. Y/n turned and ducked out of the ring, returning her sword to the rack. There was no use in lying to them, they both always knew when she was. And when she badgered them for her tells, they refused. So, she took a deep breath and prepared herself to deal with the fall out.
“Yes. I took care of it already.” Her voice shook with each word.
“What happened?” Azriel asked mildly.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, and tilted her head back to look at the sky. She couldn’t look at them now, and didn't want to. Didn’t want the two of them to see her break down. Instead, she focused on the stars above her as the story spilled out. One of her friends' brothers had cornered her. She was in her early-twenties, and had never been interested in anyone. Not in that way. When the … opportunity came up she went along with it for a minute - even flirted harmlessly with him, but when he pressed and tried to push her for more, tried to get her to kiss him, and when he refused …
“That’s when,” she waved her hand down her stomach, “that happened. I told him to stop but he wouldn’t,” she couldn’t keep the tears from her eyes as the story kept spilling out, of how he grabbed her breast, tried to stick his hand between her legs.
“And he called me a frigid bitch after I kneed him in the balls.” She finished weakly, forcing a laugh. The two of them had gone incredibly still, and she felt the tears drip from her cheeks onto her shirt. “I took care of it.” She insisted.
The ‘taking care of it’ worked for a day. Until he came back, thinking she was just playing with him - that she liked the ‘playing hard to get.’ The worst was her friend justifying it, when she brought it up to her.
“Well,” she hesitated, biting on her bottom lip. “You did flirt with him, how’s he supposed to know?”
“I told him to stop.” Y/n insisted.
“Just try telling him again.” She sighed. “I don’t want to get in a fight with him.” She told him, again, over the next three days.
“There’s more.” Azriel said. Gods, he always knew - even if she was just omitting something. “All of it. I need to hear all of it.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She yelled, the anger she’d kept a firm lid on spilling out as tears ran down her face. “I don’t want to think about it, I want it to be over.”
Cassian strode towards her, wrapping her in his arms and bringing her close to his chest, rubbing her back and holding her through her sobs. Cool shadows swirled around her neck and shoulders, and she recognized Azriel’s way of comforting her.
“I’m sorry.” She murmured, face still pressed into his chest.
“None of that,” he replied, running a hand through her hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
She snorted, pushing back against him. “You’re growing soft.”
“Just for you,” he grinned but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
Y/n yelped as she was gently tugged away from him, instead bundled into Azriel’s arms, his fingers running through her hair and shadows still curling around her. Probably reporting her expressions even as he couldn’t see her face. “Can you tell me now?”
She exhaled slowly. She wouldn’t get out of this, so she might as well tell him. “He just didn’t know how to take the hint. He thought I was playing with him.” Azriel tensed underneath her, and she scented the pure rage coming from both of the Illyrians and knew if she didn’t say anything else someone in the Autumn court would find their immortal life cut short. “I told him if he didn’t stop I would stab him.”
“Good girl.” He murmured, but didn’t release her - instead holding her tight as if she might disappear at any moment.
“Don’t -,” she took in a breath, “don’t tell anyone else.” She pushed back, tilting her head to see his expression. He looked troubled by it and glancing over to Cassian told her he’s feeling the same way. “Please.”
They looked at each other, as if they were communicating something silently, and nerves hit her - crawling under her skin and swirling in her stomach. She took another step back, forcing Azriel’s arms to hang back by his sides.
“We’ll make a deal, with a few conditions.” Cassian said, and strode closer to her, standing next to Azriel to make a wall formed of pure arrogance. She groaned internally. “If you don’t agree. We’ll tell him.”
She crossed her arms, pressing her lips together. “What are they?”
“Firstly, they’re non negotiable.” He waited for her nod before continuing. “You don’t visit them again. If you want to see her, she comes here.”
“I’d have to go through Rhys for that.” He gave her a look, as if to say - “that’s your problem,” and she rolled her eyes.
“Second. No more hiding.”
“I wasn’t -”
“Yes you were.” Azriel cut in, raising an eyebrow at her glare. “Rhys told us.”
“He needs to learn to mind his business.” She muttered and Cassian snorted.
“If he didn’t tell us, we would’ve figured it out. You don’t miss meals.”
“I could have just wanted to eat in private.”
“For three days in a row?” He crossed his arms.
“Mind your damn business.”
“Enough.” Azriel cut off the quickly budding argument between the two of them. He’s always been the mediator between the two of them - both ‘blessed’ with quick tempers.
She wheeled on him instead. “And you have to promise not to tell him.” She needed to be very clear on that, otherwise he would take the loophole and exploit it. He looked conflicted, but ended up promising - unless it somehow escalates, but considering she’ll never see him again - she doubts it will.
“Is that everything?”
“One more. Anyone does that to you again, you tell us.”
“As long as you don’t tell anyone else without my permission permission.” They exchanged another look, and both nodded. She stared at them for a few seconds. “It’s a bargain.”
She fought her smile as she was on the receiving end of twin glares. Apparently they hadn’t intended for it to go that far, but now she knew their word was good.
“Brat.” Cassian muttered, but started searching for the tattoo.
She shoved up her sleeves. Nothing on her arms. But, felt a tiny prick on chest, and strode towards the mirror, adjusting her shirt to see. Some kind of constellation was etched into her skin, spreading across her collarbones in a pattern she didn’t recognize. Azriel and Cassian had matching ones - it took them a minute to figure it out, especially with their leathers in the way, but small dots were interwoven with the tattoos already lining their chests.
“It’s … feminine.” Cassian commented.
“Nothing wrong with that,” she raised a brow at him.
“Nothing wrong with it.” He quickly agreed.
“I think they’re pretty,” she teased, poking his chest.
-
“Did you figure it out?” Rhys asked later as the three of them met in his office.
Cassian’s hand ran down his face. “We did.”
“And what is it?”
“We can’t tell you.” Azriel replied through gritted teeth.
Rhys paused for a moment, before raising his brows. “You let her trick you into a bargain? I thought you would’ve known better.” Both of them bristled. Ever since y/n figured out what a bargain was, she managed to word things carefully enough they’d get wrapped into them. Rhys still remembers the first time he met her, back when she was a youngling and before they managed to get her out of the Court of Nightmares.
“Mor said you could fly,” she whispered - low enough nobody else could hear. She looked up and saw the hesitant look on his face. “I can keep a secret.” She grinned. He gave her a quick nod.
He saw her again, a year later - now seven years old. “Could you take me flying?” He gave a subtle shake of his head, but every time she saw him she would ask, and eventually he caved.
“I’ll make a deal with you, you stop asking - and I’ll take you flying”
“It’s a bargain.” She whispered, and Rhys winced as a small band appeared around his upper arm, a matching one on her. That’s not supposed to happen … she shouldn’t be able to make those without both parties expliciting saying it.
They snuck her out the next day and took her, if only to keep anyone else from noticing the thin tattoo around her upper arm. He still remembered Mor half-heartedly lecturing her about the danger of making bargains - and not to go doing it with strangers.
Another idea popped into his head. “Did she say you can’t show me?”
Cassian winced. “I don’t-,” he turned to give Azriel a sharp look, “we don’t want to betray her trust. But it’s taken care of.”
Rhys nodded. He’d have to wiggle it out of her himself then, even if that’s nearly impossible. Besides, if the two of them break her trust like that, and she finds out … that would be a fight he doesn’t want to be anywhere near.
-
Mor promised to get her out of Hewn City, whenever she needed to. Y/n was eighteen when she left, when she moved to Velaris, met Cassian, Azriel, Amren, and started making friends in the city. She should’ve known any ‘friends’ she met living there … Y/n cut off that line of thinking, reminding herself it’s not her fault, in any way. But, her mind still swirls with all of the ways she possibly could have prevented it, or the different things she could have done. For gods sake, she’s told others countless times that it’s not their fault, and they’re in no way responsible for others actions, but she still gets caught in that spider web, in the dangerous abyss of her own thoughts caving in on her.
“Where’d you go?” Rhys interrupts her and she blinks heavily.
“Here and there.” She mutters, pushing some food around on her plate.
“Anything you want to talk about?” Him and Mor have stopped questioning her as frequently, but still try to put subtle feelers out to see if she will respond, or open up to them.
The words blurt out before she can think twice about them. “Can I speak with the priestesses again?”
His entire body tenses, his shoulders tightening and eyes darkening. She’d just given him a very clear idea of what happened while she was away.
-
The priestesses. He can only think of a few reasons why she’d want to speak with them. It could be related to her past, but more likely to some recent events. Barely, he manages to keep his composure.
“I’ll ask them.” His voice is short and he watches her worry her bottom lip.
“Please don’t do-”
“Anything rash?” He raises a brow, forcing a cool and neutral tone.
“I took care of it.” She insisted. Similar to what Azriel and Cassian said.
“Will you ever tell me? Or Mor? She’s worried sick.” Rhys knew it was a low blow, even as he said it.
“I’m tired of … I’m tired of talking about it.”
He wondered why she’d want to go to the priestesses, why she’d want to speak with them if she’s already sick of talking. But then again, he’s heard that sometimes they go into their offices just to cry or scream. Either way, he’s not going to deny her the chance, or that request. He knows without a doubt that they’ll agree to see her. They all love her there, and she spends a lot of her time studying in the archives. Technically that’s her official position in his court - to research, her mind is her greatest weapon.
“Why don’t you ask them yourself?”
“I wanted to make you feel useful.” He rolled his eyes, leaning over to flick her nose. She dodged it, swatting his hand away. “But if you’re going to complain I can ask them myself.’”
“Asking who?” Mor swept into the room, her eyes glimmering with curiosity. Rhys took that as his cue to leave, before he got caught into anything between the two sisters.
-
Y/n mouthed ‘traitor’ at Rhys’s retreating figure, when Mor wasn’t looking.
“I’m going to ask if I can speak with the priestesses again.”
“Oh.” She paused, before sitting down on the couch next to her, stretching her legs out in front. “Anyone in particular?”
She exhaled in relief, something Mor noticed but didn’t comment on.
“Not Merrill.” Y/n muttered, drawing a laugh out of Mor.
“Merrill has a good heart.”
“I deal with her enough already.” Y/n groaned, leaning her head back on the cushion.
“How is that going?” Mor switched subjects, navigating to safer areas. If she pushed too much on this topic … y/n might shut down again.
“Slowly. Traveling between worlds, Rhys is obsessed with it and translating some of the old texts takes hours.”
“Is he now?” She turned, interested, and gave her a small smile.
“I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”
“I won’t snitch.”
“I won’t either.” She snipped back, but a small smile was on her face, and some mirth dancing in her eyes. She could’ve cried from relief - even if she has other things to think about now, about how she has a very clear idea of what happened. Part of her wants to lecture her sister about bargains, again.
-
Y/n was forced to stop hiding, the tattoo pricking into her skin every time it thought she was being a bit too reclusive. Still, she wondered if it really was a fair bargain - their silence in return for; not visiting her again, not hiding, and telling them if anyone does that again. She supposes that could mean several things, and they never specified a specific timeframe on when she would have to tell them. In her desperation for them to keep her confidence, she’d done something foolish and doubted they would let her out of that anytime soon. If ever.
The two of them can be just as tricky as she is, and just as likely to find loopholes. At least they wouldn’t use it against her with the intention to cause harm. She’d never make one of those with someone she doesn’t trust. Even if the wording is iron-clad, there’s always room for error. Most of the ‘bargains’ she’s made are always light-hearted.
Like making Rhys take her to fly, even if it was the shortest gods-damned flight of her life. Two minutes, if that - and under the cover of dark, after him and Mor snuck her out of Hewn City. Her very first taste of freedom. She was always kept away whenever the Inner Circle visited. Still, she managed to sneak away from the guards, learning how to create diversions and somehow give the impression she was still sleeping in her rooms, enchanting her toys to keep moving, or a pen to keep writing, a book to keep flipping its pages. They never caught her either. She wasn’t even born when Mor left. In fact, she wasn’t born until after Rhys took up his throne. Born into a ‘cleaned-out’ Hewn City, and grateful for it - she doesn’t want to know what it was like before.
Not many children were around, anyway. The friends she did make were the ones her parents encouraged her to, from foreign courts for the most part. People she’s unlikely to ever visit again. Technically, she could leave of her own accord - but that would mean whoever she’s visiting is going to have someone knocking on their door to drag her away.
A knock sounded on the door as she slumped back against her pillow, and she could sense Azriel was out there.
“Come in,” she called. There’s a fifty-fifty chance he’d enter anyway.
The door swung open, revealing him leaning against her doorway. “I heard you went to speak with the priestesses.”
Cutting right to the chase, then. “I speak with them every day. It’s part of my job description.”
His eyes narrowed. “You know what I mean.”
She groaned, pushing herself up to sit. “You don’t need to haunt the doorway, you can come in.”
“Last time I did, I recall a book launched my way.”
She held up both hands, showing there were no projectiles in reach. He still looked cautious as he entered, and took up a seat in one of the armchairs, right by her favorite window. She swung her legs over so she sat on the edge of her bed, propping her forearms on her thighs.
-
Azriel couldn’t help as his eyes shifted down ever so slightly to where her nightdress slipped down, showing the tops of the curves of her breasts. His gaze switched back up as quickly as possible, and somehow y/n didn’t catch the action - instead looking out towards the window. Good, the last thing he needs is to start ogling her, to give her the impression he’s coming onto her. There was something else he could do. He’d need to speak with Cassian.
“I’m proud of you,” he offered instead. Her head snapped, back to look at him. Her eyes were wide and he fought the urge to shift under her gaze.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her lips turning up into a soft smile. A shadow curled around his ear, happy, happy, happy. It sang.
“What do they tell you?” She tilted her head, eyeing it.
“That you’re happy,” he said honestly.
She blinked twice, lips curving into an easy smile. “I suppose I am,” she finally answered.
“You should get some sleep.” He’d noticed the bags under her eyes, how she still seemed exhausted and worn down throughout the day. Azriel had told Cassian he needed to stop dragging her outside and beating her into the ground every day. He’s aware healing is different for each person, but it had been a month since she returned, and his worry only grew.
“That’s rude.” She frowned, but glanced at the mirror across from her bed. Interesting placement. “I do look like shit.”
He snorted. “You look tired, there’s a difference.”
“Sleep hasn’t … been easy.” He could tell it cost her something to admit that. Stubborn pride, just like her sister and cousin. And the rest of them, he supposed.
“Nightmares?” He prompted, and she nodded. He wouldn’t pry further, but made a mental note to send a shadow in later, to keep watch on her. Maybe it was an invasion of her privacy, but he didn’t particularly care. “I’m right down the hall,” he jerked his chin towards the door.
“I’m aware.” Another shadow curled around his ear, stay, stay, stay. “Is it too nosy if I ask about that one?” She teased.
“Maybe.”
She held her hand to her chest in mock surprise. “I suppose it’s your job to keep secrets.”
“I recall someone making a terrible bargain to keep something secret.”
Her face dropped, and he got the impression he said the wrong damn thing. “They’ve already figured it out.” She mumbled, eyes avoiding him. He hated that, hated when she wouldn’t look at him.
“That’s not a terrible thing.” He fought the urge to rub the back of his neck. He’s never been great at comforting, usually Cassian’s the one to do these kinds of things. Still, he found himself walking across the room, taking a seat next to her. On instinct, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his side.
She froze, went still for a brief moment, and he was about to move away when she leaned into him, her body relaxing. A few of his shadows swirled around her neck, and she hummed in content.
Another one curled around his ear, happy, stay. Maybe, for a minute or two.
-
Cassian went looking for Azriel, he wasn’t in his room - or downstairs or anywhere to be found, and tracked his scent off to y/n’s room, of all places. The door was already parted, and he nudged it open with his foot. Y/n was curled into his side, sound asleep in an awfully uncomfortable position. How tired did she have to be to sleep like that? Almost sitting up.
Azriel turned his head to look at him, his expression almost saying ‘I have no idea how I got here.’ He held a fist up to his face, fighting back a laugh, and ignoring his glare. He stalked over towards the duo, ignoring Az’s glare as he shook y/n’s shoulder.
“Stop holding him hostage.” He watched as her eyes opened, half lidded with sleep.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, hand coming up to hide a yawn.
Azriel moved his arm away, even if he seemed reluctant to do so, and he pushed back her shoulders so she’d actually lay down. “I don’t want to hear any complaints if your back hurts tomorrow.”
“Fuck off.” She yanked the blankets back over her, burrowing down into the pillows. It took barely a minute before she was sound asleep again, her breaths evening out, mouth slightly parted in sleep. Peaceful, she looked so peaceful, even with the bags still lining her eyes like horrible bruises.
Azriel tapped his shoulder, and he realized he’d been staring for a while. They quietly left, gently shutting the door closed behind them.
“You’ve gone soft.” He told the other male after they were out of earshot.
“I was just … comforting her, and she fell asleep.”
“Must be really tired, then.”
“She said she’s having nightmares.”
Mother above, Cassian wanted to storm the autumn court and bring her back that asshole’s head as a gift. In fact, he’d been debating it for the last few days - but, if anything it would distress her further. Y/n’s never been a violent person, in contrast to the rest of the inner circle. A good contrast. She thought he’d been training her more just to keep her from ‘hiding,’ but his mind was swirling with what else could’ve gone wrong, and if she would have been able to defend herself. Or why she threw herself in whole heartedly, pushing herself harder than ever.
“She’s been more ...” Cassian pressed his lips into a tightline, glancing behind him to make sure y/n wasn’t behind. “Dedicated, training wise.”
“I know.” Azriel replied quietly. He couldn’t shake the feeling there was something else they didn’t know.
-
Her tattoo pricked at her as she opened the third letter in the past month. Addressed from her friend, like the last two, but something was different about this one - her name written differently, a small curve to the letters.
Her eyes scanned the page, picking out the key phrases.
I miss the fun we had. I know how much you enjoyed yourself.
You must, should visit at your earliest convenience.
There was only a general threatening atmosphere to the words - nothing outwardly against her safety. Only him … reminiscing on the past events, in uncomfortable detail. Harmless, she decided, even if her subconscious screamed against her. No pain ripped through her magic, also some guilt crept into her at the feeling - she was hiding it, using a loophole to get out of the agreement, not honoring the spirit of it.
With a low exhale, she justified it to herself, no need to worry the two of them - they were busy enough as is. Besides, she couldn’t trust them to keep their cool. The guilt would multiply if she knew violence was brought to her friend's doorway. She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, and crumpled the paper - shoving it in a drawer and reminding herself to burn it later. It was dark, the sun already dipped below the horizon - only vague rays of pink and purple peeking up past the horizon. Her stomach grumbled, loud enough she snorted. That’s a clear signal she needs to grab something to eat.
She slipped out her door, closing it behind her with a gentle snick. She kept her footsteps as silent as she could as she trailed down the hallway, but she heard … moans - and groans coming from Azriel’s room. Did he have someone over? A small tinge of hurt filled her - not that he was hers, or she had any claim to him. Or Cassian. Why had her mind gone to both of them? “Ridiculous,” she quietly chided herself. She could manage to walk by the room, keep her eyes set right ahead - no need to look at the door or pause, she wouldn’t be nosy.
Her feet moved quickly, and she spotted the cracked open door in her peripheral, cursing him. Eyes forward, right ahead. No need to look.
But, she made the mistake of looking at the window, figuring it would be harmless.
Her mouth parted in shock as she saw Cassian, pressed back against Azriel who had one arm wrapped around his front - palming him through the leather pants. They were both shirtless, muscles toned and gleamed with a light sheen of sweat. Azriel’s other hand was fisted in the General’s hair, their lips crashing together in a violent and passionate kiss.
She hadn’t realized she was staring, arousal starting to creep into her, until a shadow curled around Azriel’s ear and his head snapped towards her. Cassian quickly followed, and she let out a small yelp - going bug eyed and taking off down the hall. She was not supposed to see that. Not at all … Mother above they need to close the damned door. Arousal flickered through her as she paused at the end of the hall - way out of range, bracing her hand against the wall, she squeezed her eyes shut and willed away the feeling. She couldn’t want them. They were perfectly unavailable, and together, at least in some sense.
Did Rhys and Mor know? She wouldn’t be the one to tell them. Her mind flashed with more images;
Azriel panting as Cassian knelt in front of him. Azriel hauling him to his feet - throwing him over the side of the bed …
“Stop it.” She muttered to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose and darting her gaze around the hall. No one to witness, good. She couldn’t remember why she left her room, but she wouldn’t be returning for a while.
-
It shouldn’t have, but getting caught - and by her, and feeling her arousal from the brief moments she watched them … it spurred him on, sent him deeper into that state of building pleasure.
She didn’t know they already knew she was there. Azriel wanted to see how long it took for her to say something, or if they’d have to act first.
“We should invite her back.” Cassian said, bruised lips frowning.
“Do you want to scare her off?” Azriel asked incredulously. They had actual albeit vague plans for this. To come in stages, how to trigger various emotions in her.
“No.” He muttered, entwining his hair at the nape of Azriel’s neck.
“Good boy” Azriel teased and his friend grunted, throwing a half-hearted punch his way. Cassian stiffened under his hand. “You like that?” His teeth nipped at his neck as his hand slipped under his waistband.
“Do we talk to her about it?” Cassian asked, an hour later - hair messed, cheeks flushed, one hand braced on the doorframe.
Az propped himself up from where he was still laying in bed. “Let her dream about it.”
#acotar fic#cazriel x reader#cazriel x y/n#cassian x azriel x reader#cassian x y/n x azriel#azriel x cassian x y/n#azriel x y/n x cassian#azriel x reader x cassian#cazriel#cassian x azriel#cassian x y/n#cassian x reader x azriel#cassian x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x reader#acotar imagine
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Meaningful Mistakes Pt. 3 | Azriel x Reader x Cassian
Summary: After the baby is born, your mates are bound to be a bit more territorial, and you a lot more tired.
Word Count: 672
Warnings: None!
A/N: this is barely even a drabble, but thanks to anon who requested this, I love writing for this cute lil couple!! hope you enjoy<3
Requests are open!
Previous | Masterlist
Your mates were bound to be more territorial after the baby was born, Rhysand and Feyre had informed you as much.
You didn’t have much of a problem with that, except for the fact that it meant you couldn’t do much of anything. At all. Even today, when after weeks of being practically bed-bound because of your boys taking care of you and the baby, you’d insisted that you and your baby girl needed some fresh air.
“Tired? You should let me carry you.”
Cassian insisted for the umpteenth time as you walked through the bustling streets. His hand was in yours, and Azriel was sulking to your right, unable to hold your hand because you were holding the baby in that arm.
“I’m fine, Cass.”
He grumbled under his breath, pouting now like Az, but continued walking with you. Many people from the streets of Velaris knew Cassian and Azriel, and now, you. This, in turn, led to many people stopping to congratulate you. Mostly the women, or the older ones that had known the General and Spymaster for quite a long time. Most of the males were old and wise enough to keep their distance.
However, one Fae male that must not have heard to keep away from a newly mated pair, let alone a group that had just had a child, approached to give congratulations on this day.
“Hey, congrats on the kid-“
You nodded your head with a weary smile, as even if you tried to convince your mates that you weren’t tired, maybe you were. Just a little bit. And your ankles and calves were hurting, not to mention how sore your thighs still were from the birth.
A low snarl ripped from Azriel at the male getting a bit too close to you for comfort. Cassian bared his teeth, wings flaring behind him. The poor male didn’t seem to know why.
“Sorry, they’re…territorial.”
You said, pinching Azriel’s wing with your left hand after slipping it out of Cassian’s hand. He grumbled under his breath, and the male mumbled something while walking away. Your little girl, face still a bit smushed like all newborns, cooed and giggled at them, and both of their attention immediately went to her.
“Seriously, you two need to-“
You cut yourself off with a yawn, your finger idly rubbing your baby girl’s cheek as her hands went to try and clap in excitement, Azriel’s shadows swirling around her.
“Need to…”
You mumbled, trying to remember what you’d been saying. Azriel and Cassian met each other’s gazes, and Cassian gently took the baby from your arms, cradling her, while Azriel picked you up, mindful of your sore body. His shadows began rubbing into the sorest parts, relaxing your muscles and soothing them with their cool touch.
“You’re tired, love, let’s go home and rest.”
Azriel cooed softly to you as your eyes fluttered, he and Cassian began to walk down the streets to find a private area to winnow without bothering anyone. You could faintly hear Cassian growling at any males getting in the way of them, or getting a tiny bit too close to you, Az, or his little girl. The baby giggled in glee at every growl, seemingly very amused.
“No, no, I’m..fine..”
You mumbled, convincing no one. Az’s cool shadows wrapped around your little family, winnowing all of you back into the House of Wind, and conveniently right into your bedroom. Azriel laid you down on the bed, and within a moment you were out, breathing in a deep rhythm that drew a tiny yawn out of Az himself.
Cassian came up from behind him and gave him a little pat on the back, hand going up to ruffle his hair a bit. His other arm held their daughter.
“Get some rest, Az. I’ve got her.”
Before he could protest, Cassian gave him the gentlest kiss on the cheek he’d ever felt and left the room.
That was enough to convince Azriel, who promptly collapsed into bed alongside you.
Tags:
@fantasyandshit
@mybestfriendmademe
@cressidagrey
@tele86
#writers on tumblr#acotar fanfiction#acotar fandom#acotar x reader#acotar fluff#azriel#azriel acotar#azriel x reader#azriel fluff#cassian acotar#cassian x y/n#cassian fluff#cassian x reader#Azriel x reader x Cassian#Azriel x Cassian x reader
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A Brothers Mate
Azriel X FemReader X Cassian
You knew there was more between Azriel and Cassian, despite others' opinions of the two. You were okay with that, their relationship, but seeing your mate's happy without you was killing you.
Warnings/Themes: Smut, Language, (2.7K Words.)
MASTERLIST
-----
You knew the Illyrians were closer than they let on. Others said that the two were raised as brothers, and that may be true, but the sentiment of brotherhood had clearly changed over the centuries. Brothers didn’t look at each other like that.
Azriel leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, a few of his shadows gently swirling around him. Rhys and Mor were talking about some wine and who'd drank more of it the night before. Cassian was sitting comfortably in an armchair adjacent to Mor. One hand hung limp over the side, the other clasped around a glass of amber liquid. You sat on the couch, beside Rhys, listening to the heated debate. You listened, but your gaze was focused on the Shadowsinger and the War Lord. It was small, casual–the glances they shared, but you didn't fail to notice the rosy tint to Cassian’s cheeks or the shy little uptilt of Azriel’s lips.
It was sweet to see the love the two shared. You supported it, you wanted the best for them, but Mother above, it was heartbreaking. It was heartbreaking because you knew they didn't feel the same about you.
“Well,” you drawled, catching the attention of everyone in the room. “I'd hate to cut this riveting debate short, but I'm headed home.” You stood from your seat with a stretch and a small smile. “And it was me, by the way, that drank all the wine.” Mor and Rhys shot daggers at you with their eyes as Cassian let out a boisterous laugh.
“Should've known,” he said with a knowing look your way.
“Night all,” you said as you grabbed your things before leaving out the front door.
The air was crisp. You could smell the beginning of autumn in the air, a soft, smokey undertone that was pleasant to your senses. Your steps echoed in the night as you strolled along the paved pathways of the city. You didn't make it far before a gust of shadow swept wind brushed past you, tickling the tips of your ears.
“You don't have to walk me home.” You told the shadowsinger.
“I want to,” came Azriel's deep reply as he materialized by your side.
“I thought you'd be with Cassian right about now.” Another gust of wind picked up before a second voice answered you.
“Who says he isn't?”
You rolled your eyes at the two over protective illyrians that walked on either side of you. “Hello, Cassian.”
“Hello, sweets,”
“So you two bats are that determined to walk me home?”
“Well,” Cassian begun, nudging his shoulder against your side. “You left too soon sweets, we just wanna spend time together.”
You let out a small laugh. “Right.”
Azriel stopped you with a hand to your shoulder, his grasp was firm, but gentle.
“He's right, Y/N.”
You stepped forward and turned around to face the two males. In the low moonlight they looked even more mysterious and handsome than ever. Their wings appeared darker, more intimidating as they rose above them. You wanted to lean forward and touch the leathery membrane of their wings. You wanted to watch them shudder with pleasure from your touch, listen to their heavy breathing and deep moans. You wanted to taste them, drink their…
You breathed out and took another step back. Your wants didn't matter, the males before you weren't yours.
“You two can move on to whatever you had planned for tonight. I'll tell the others you walked me home and we had a late nightcap, if they want to know why the two of you didn't return right away.” The two males shared a look between themselves and you took that as your cue to continue on your way. You only got a few feet down the street before the males were at your side once more.
“You're more observant than you let on.” Cassian said softly.
“I'm more surprised the others haven't figured it out.” You answered.
“We've been careful. We didn't want them to know anything before you.” Azriel replied.
That comment had you pausing. “Why?”
Cassian ruffled his wings uneasily.
“Isn't it obvious?”
You wanted to believe it, wanted to believe that they felt the same about you than you did them, but you couldn't, wouldn't let yourself entertain the thought.
“No,” you said softly. You knew Cassian and Azriel could hear it for the lie it was.
Azriel stepped forward, close enough that you had to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “Try again.” He ordered.
You swallowed. “Yes,” you breathed.
“Say it,” Cassian begged. His signature smirk was back on his face.
“I can't,” you admitted.
“C'mon sweets, say it.”
You paused, taking the moment to cherish what was possibly the last moment of your relationship with the males before you, because if you were wrong… Cauldron, if you were wrong, you think you might break. “Because,” you began, “I'm your mate.”
The males before you smiled, even Azriel, who was always very careful with hiding his emotions.
“There you go,” Azriel said, “we've been waiting for you to admit it.”
“How long have you known?” You asked.
“Long enough,” Cassian groaned. “We thought you might say something, that you felt how we did-”
“I do.” You admitted.
“Good,” Cassian breathed. “Then let’s continue home, shall we?” Cassian swept his hand out before him, motioning to continue onwards to your little apartment in the city.
The silence that followed the three of you through the night was comfortable, more comfortable than it perhaps had ever been, now that things were out in the open.
“You don’t mind sharing?” You blurted, disrupting the silence.
Cassian chuckled. “No. Do you?”
“No,” you answered truthfully.
“This bond,” Azriel began softly, “goes three ways, Y/N. It’s not a thread that branches off between us, it’s a continuous circle.”
“A continuous circle,” you murmured. It made sense, the way they looked at each other along with the way the males spoke to you. This wasn’t just some ill fated love triangle, it was the reality you had hoped it would be.
“The snake that eats its own tail.” Cassian said as he threw his arm over your shoulder.
“We don’t want to force you to accept anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“I know.” You answered as you finally reached the front door of your apartment. You stopped on your front steps, pausing for a moment before facing the males just a few steps behind you. “Do you want to come in?”
Their grins were answer enough.
The War Lord and the Spymaster had envisioned this moment many times, many ways, but living it out was something entirely different.
You led them to the living room, waving a hand to the black couch that sat against the far wall. As the males took a seat you busied yourself at the bar cart. “Drink?” You asked, already pouring out a helping for yourself.
“Yes, please.” The males answered in unison.
You made quick work of getting their drinks, pouring each a generous hand of amber liquid before facing them. “When did it click for you?” You asked.
Cassian and Azriel shared a look amongst themselves before looking back at you. “Do you-” Cassian cut himself off as you straddled his lap. His breathing stuttered as Azriel adjusted himself beside the two of you. “Do you remember that party Mor threw a few months ago?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” Azriel took over for Cassian. “It clicked for both of us that night.” Your brows rose in surprise. Up until now, you had thought the two males had separate experiences with the bond.
Azriel chuckled at your look of surprise. He layed a scarred hand on your leg before continuing on and you found yourself wishing he'd trail it up higher, closer to where you needed him.
“It was when we were dancing.” Cassian admitted. “Remember when I stumbled and stepped on your toes?”
“Yeah,” you chuckled at the memory. The War Lord who was usually so balanced on his feet, stumbling on the dance floor to the point of crushing your toes. “I recall being quite upset with you for nearly breaking my toes.”
“Yes well, I was stumbling like a fool because the bond had just snapped for me.”
“I suppose in that case I can forgive you.” You purred, leaning in closer to the male. Cassian set his glass down in favour of holding onto your hips. “And you?” You asked, turning to face Azriel.
“It was when the two of you approached me at the bar that it snapped,” Azriel paused for a brief moment. “For the both of you.”
You debated asking your next question, but figured that no matter the answer, you wouldn't mind. “Have you two…”
“Fucked?” Cassian finished for you boldly.
“Very eloquent, Cas.” Azriel muttered.
“I mean, I figured you have.” You continued. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.”
The males shared a look before Azriel answered. “No, we haven’t.”
“We wanted to wait for you, to at least tell you about our feelings before anything happened.” Cassian supplied.
You paused, a slow, knowing smile creeping up on your face. “You romantic fucking bastards.” The males laughed–Azriel’s hand traveled further up your leg. He was so, so close to where you wanted him. “Go higher, Shadowsinger.”
The Shadowsinger complied.
“Mother above the two of you are making me fucking hard.” Cassian groaned.
“Join in.” You demanded as you ground your hips down on his hardening length. Cassian laid one hand on top of Azriels own, right on your hip. The other hand raised to the side of your breast, caressing you over your clothing as he leaned in and began kissing up your neck.
You tilted your head to the side, giving the War Lord better access to your neck as Azriel dipped his fingers under the band of your underwear. His scar covered hand teased your slit, sliding through your wetness to find your bundle of nerves.
“Yes!” You gasped in pleasure as Azriel toyed with you.
Azriel’s warm breath ghosted over you as he chuckled. “So wet.” He murmured.
“Let me taste.” Cassian ordered.
Azriel brought his hand away from your heat and over to Cassian's open mouth. Cassian hummed around Azriels two fingers. If the moment weren’t so intimate, you would ask Feyre to paint a picture of the look in Cassian’s eyes as he licked your juices off of the Shadowsingers fingers. “My turn.” Azriel said. You expected him to dip his fingers back down into your core. Instead, Azriel pulled his fingers free from Cassian’s mouth and leaned in, kissing him.
That, was what you would get Feyre to paint if you could. The two males clung onto you as they devoured each other. Cassian’s hips shifted up, grinding into your core. “She likes it, Az.”
Azriel pulled away with a chuckle. “Of course she does.” The Shadowsingers hazel eyes met your own. “I think it’s time we move this to the bedroom.”
You didn’t take your time going to the bedroom. The three of you were a rushed mess of scattered clothes, heavy breathing and tangled limbs by the time you found yourself spread out on your sheets. “Need you,” you panted. The males in the room knew it wasn’t directed at anyone in particular.
“Need this?” Azriel asked as he slid two of his fingers inside of you.
“Fuck,” you gasped.
“That’s not an answer, sweets.” Cassian said. The War Lord was kneeling beside you, tugging at his cock as he watched Azriel pleasure you.
“Yes,” you answered. “I need this, please, don’t stop.”
“I don’t plan on it.” Azriel answered before he leaned over you. The hand that wasn’t inside you gently grabbed hold of your throat, securing you to the bed as he kissed you. His shadows caressed your body. Cool, dark tendrils that were both an extension of him and their own being entirely. Cassian’s free hand followed the shadows path along you body, bringing warmth back into your body after the shadows cool touches.
“I need more.” You demanded from the males above you. Cassian and Azriel shared a look, both pausing in their movements.
“Who do you want first?” Azriel asked.
You paused, thinking. “You,” you answered back to the Shadowsinger.
Azriel crept off your body and stood at the end of the bed. “As you wish.” He rasped as he shucked his clothing off. With each layer that fell to the floor you wanted to devour the male more and more.
You sat up in interest as Cassian moved away from your side and over to Azriel, lowering himself to his knees. “Gotta make sure you’re ready too.” Cassian said before taking Azriels length into his open mouth. You gasped at the sight of the Spymasters scarred hand clutching onto the other males hair, pulling at his locks as he fucked himself into his mouth. You couldn’t help but find the sight of Cassian on his knees to be natural. Alluring, and natural. With a gasp and a line of saliva, Cassian pulled himself off of Azriel once he deemed him ready. “Go fuck our girl.” He ordered.
And by the Caldron, did Azriel listen.
“Fuck!” You cried out as Azriel thrust relentlessly into you.
“You feel so good.” Azriel breathed.
“So, so good,” you babbled.
“Cas, help her out.” Azriel ordered.
Without removing himself from your breasts, Cassian reached a hand down and circled your bundle of nerves.
“Yes!” You screeched. Your climax came hurtling through you at the hands of your mates and it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Azriel reached his end along with you, spilling himself into you with heavy breathes. Cassian ran his hands along both of your bodies with light kisses and whispered words of affection.
“Do you have enough energy to ride Cas?” Azriel asked you with a wicked grin.
“Absolutely.”
Azriel pulled himself free from you with a groan, his spend slipping out after him. Cassian was ready and waiting for you at your side, laying flat on his back. As you prepared to sink down on his length Cassian stopped you with a firm grip around the waist and a light chuckle. “Not my cock, Y/N. I want you to ride my face.” He said as he guided you to sit above him. You knew that if Azriel hadn’t just pulled an orgasm from you then Cassian’s words alone would have.
“Cas,” you gasped as he sat you right where he wanted you.
“Perfect,” Cassian murmured before licking up your core.
The War Lords mouth was absolutely sinful against your already abused core. Azriels shadows wrapped around you, holding you in place for Cassian to devour and Azriel to tease with his mouth and hands. Cassian slurped, sucked, licked and played with every part of you as you sat above him, fucking his face.
“I’m close,” you warned the males. Whether it was minutes or hours after your first orgasm, you couldn’t tell, all you knew was that you had been filled with pleasure for longer than you could contain. “Cas!” You cried. “I’m-close! I, I…” you broke off in a moan as you came over your mates face.
Behind you, Azriel fisted Cassian to completion, working him through his own climax with his hand.
After a few deep breaths you slid off of Cassian and into the sheets beside him, throwing an arm over his naked torso as Azriel stood and made his way to your bathroom. The Spymaster was gone for less than a minute before he returned with a damp cloth and cleaned the two of you up, ridding of it somewhere else in your room before sliding into bed with the two of you.
—-
It was later in the night, or perhaps early morning, that you broke the silence between yourself and your mates. “Tell Rhys you can’t go on any missions for a while.” You said to the males that laid on either side of you.
“Why?” Azriel asked.
“Because,” you admitted, “in the morning I plan on making the two of you breakfast.”
#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#cassian x you#cazriel x reader#cassian x azriel#cassian x reader#azriel x reader#azriel x reader x cassian#acotar azriel#a court of thorns and roses#cassian#acotar cassian#cassian x azriel x reader#cassian x reader x azriel#azriel x fem!reader#azriel x female!reader#azriel x cassian x reader#cassian x fem!reader#cassian x female!reader#cazriel x fem!reader#acotar#acowar#acomaf#cassian x y/n#azriel#azriel x y/n#azriel x reader smut#cassian x reader smut
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Azriel x Reader x Cassian Drabble
Uhhhhhh….
NSFW 18+
Congrats @whisperingmidnights on 1k 🥰
A shriek of pleasure leaves my swollen lips that have been biten and kissed for nearly three quarters of an hour by the two males now who tower over me, my mind in an utter haze, my vision blurring as my eyes gloss over with tears of ecstasy that roll down my cheeks as darkness incarnate impales me with his cock, shadows swirling around him in a frenzy as his heady, choked grunts escape him uncontrollably. His scarred hands grip at my shaking, plush thighs, holding them spread apart as he pounds into me, droplets of his sweat trickling from his ink black hairline down to the side of his beautiful face. Azriel looks wholly enraptured, his throbbing cock being milked by the consistent clamping of my gummy walls, trying to keep him inside. His hazel irises that were once locked on mine in reassurance flutter down to my bouncing breasts and the Illyrian warrior that is leaned over and switching back and forth between each tit, suckling on them while fisting his cock, moaning and whining into my peaked flesh. Cassian focuses on my right tit, biting harshly down on the pebbled nipple, soothing away the sharp tinge with a soft lap of his warm tongue over it. His broad hand fits over my left breast, squeezing it at the same pace and force he squeezes his cock. I can’t control myself, I can’t make up where to place my hands. I can’t focus on anything. One of my fists clenches at the eggshell sheets that are becoming soaked with our juices, the noise of the harsh slapping of Azriel’s balls against the base of my slick coated sex and Cass’ quick stroking of his rock hard cock filling the room in a filthy song. My other hand runs down the length of the general’s back, pausing at the apex of his thin, battle-scarred wings. It is instinct that has me running my pad of my forefinger down the bone of his wing before tracing the pulsing vein covered in the thin leather. Cassian roars against my tit, head burying into my collar as his warm, milky cum spurts out of him in ropes, spilling all over the side of my waist. Azriel’s thumb brushes over my swollen clit as Cass pants into me, instantly triggers my own release. I come with what sounds like a shaky gasp, unable to catch my breath as the spymaster rails and ruts into my spasming cunt. Another roll and grind of his hips has me spilling over into another climax before my first could complete, and my vision nearly whites out when Azriel follows my second release with his first, his warm cum spilling into me and leaking out as he eases me through the waves of rapture. He collapses down next to me, pulling my sore body into his chest while Cass paws over to cuddle into me from behind. My shaky hand weakly grabs at the comforter, yanking it over our bodies before the three of us pass out from the night of euphoria.
I DIDNT know how to finish this so sorry about that
I’m a filthy whore
#rose writes#acotar fanfic#azriel x reader#cassian x reader#azriel x reader x cassian#cassian x reader x azriel#azriel acotar#cassian acotar#drabble#uhum#im so shy about posting this#but here we go#LOL
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Big Boys (Cassian x Reader x Azriel) blurb
Warnings: SPICE (-:< (18+ READERS ONLY)
Prompt: “Fuck me properly or I’ll find someone else to do it." “No, you fucking won’t”
a/n: Here's my first smut prompt! I know I didn't go all in but I'm still pretty new at all this. Please enjoy!! <3
“Fuck me properly or I’ll find someone else to do it," you say with as much confidence as you can muster while being pleasured. “No, you fucking won’t,” he replied in a harsh tone. You intended to take your words to the highest extent, so you got up and walked out the door. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked in almost a yell while you just smirked at him and shut the door with a slam.
His wings shudder in annoyance. The air grows cold without your presence, but that all changes when the door opens again. This time, you weren’t alone. Another winged male walked in, but Cassian never would have expected for it to be his own brother. Rage starts to bubble in his blood as he cannot take his eyes off of him. Az walks in with dark eyes that match the shadows swirling around his form.
You’re still in your black lacy set you wore just for Cass, knowing it would drive him crazy that another male was seeing you in it. He knew you thought Az was attractive, I mean who didn’t, but he didn’t expect you to bring him into your bedroom. “Oh sweetheart, did you really think you could get away with this?” he asked with a small strain in his voice, trying to keep his cool. “I can and I will,” you say back to him grabbing Azriel’s hand and luring him to the bed.
You softly give him a kiss on the cheek as you lay down on the bed teasing both males. Your straps fall off your shoulder and the air seems to be sucked out of the room. Az gives you a look of concern, but that is quickly gone away as you sit up and bring his lips to yours. Cassian’s mouth falls agape not being able to comprehend what is going on in front of him.
The kiss is sweet and simple, but oh so hot as you bring him closer to your body. You needed to feel his skin against yours. He is ripped from you as you watch the male you love beat the tar out of his brother you were just kissing. Punches were thrown left and right. The fight went on for many breaths before you uttered, “enough, Cass.”
They reluctantly broke it up as you stood before them laying on the floor. Each of your hands reach for their jaws as you lift them up from the ground. Looking them both in the eye you slowly peal off your lacy bra and panties. Standing naked and in control of them felt amazing. You sit back on the bed, cross your legs, and curl your finger to tell them come hither. Both males make their way over to you with hunger in their eyes. “Tonight, both of you big boys are mine to do what I please, are you in?” you ask making it sound more as a command. A nod quickly comes from both males.
“Now, I want both of you boys in your underwear, can you manage that?” you tease. Both males follow your command as you push back onto the bed. You wanted the full amount of pleasure you could get out of this.
Cassian knelt down by your breasts as Az went straight to your core. Now this was going to be fun.
#azriel x reader#cassian x reader#azriel x reader x cassian#maddithefangirl#azriel shadowsinger#acotar x reader#acotar#acotar fanfiction
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Are there any acotar lovers in the chat please
Cazrael x reader
That's all
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Undercover Affection
Based on a request!
Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: While on a mission with Azriel, you must pretend to be a couple. During which it’s revealed that Azriel and you are mated.
Warnings: none (that I know of)
A.Note: After a month of ghosting you guys I’m finally back!! And with a fic I’m very proud of so I hope you guys enjoy!!
7.9k word count.
The instructions had been simple enough: "Blend in, gather information, and avoid getting caught." But for some reason, Rhysand had thought it necessary to throw in an extra condition—one Azriel seemed to want to claw his way out of.
"I work alone." The shadow singer gritted through his teeth, shadows billowing over his impressively sized wings.
"Not for this mission, you won't." The High Lord immediately dismisses him, not batting an eye at the male who perhaps every other fae in Prythian was terrified of.
"She's not ready, she'll be a distraction." Azriel counters. A foreign part of you panged with disappointment at that. Did he really find you so incompetent?
Rhys argues back immediately, his anger beginning to ramp up to meet Azriel's and you quickly decide you didn't want to be anywhere near when they collided. "You told me yourself just last week she's the best spy you've ever trained."
Your eyebrows lift a fraction at what Rhys had unconsciously confessed, the barest reaction but enough for the shadow singer to pick up on. His hazel eyes flicked to your own gaze, then back to Rhysand's.
They seemed to be having a conversation, one you couldn't hear. You doubted you'd ever get used to that, the way Rhys could slip into someone's mind—even someone as guarded as Azriel. A shiver went down your spine as you thought about the power of the High Lord of Night.
"You have to be out of your mind if you think I'll ever put her in that kind of danger." Azriel seethed to his brother through the mental connection, unable to even fathom the idea of you having a target on your back.
"She may be your mate but she is also your disciple, did you seriously think she'd never go out into the field?" Rhys could sense his anger, feel it ebbing against a shield that was thinning.
"I only taught her spy work so she'd know how to protect herself—never to put her in harm's way," Azriel says, his frustration making his voice sound almost pleading.
"Then you know she can protect herself. You will be beside her every step of the way, what she wants to do is entirely her decision." Rhys remarks.
"And what if the bond snaps? It could jeopardize the mission—much more, her safety." Azriel poses, the scenario would make all hell break loose in all situations.
"Are you implying you can't keep her safe?" Rhys taunts, the words finding their mark in the Spy Masters head.
You watch their expressions closely, attempting to pick up on what they were saying but the only reaction you could spot was the way Azriel's jaw feathered as he pushed off Rhysand's desk and turned to me.
"Do you think you're ready for this?" There was a certain softness in his eyes you only got rare glimpses of, the sight making you swallow hard.
Your throat felt tight, but you straightened your shoulders and lifted your chin. "I am." Your voice didn't waver, though the intensity of his hazel eyes made it a near thing.
Rhys sighed, leaning back in his chair as he surveyed you both with a calculating air. The quiet smile tugging at his lips felt almost dangerous like he already knew the outcome of a game you hadn't even realized you were playing.
"The ball," he began, voice smooth, "is being hosted by High Fae whose loyalty to Prythian is questionable at best. Whispers suggest they're courting alliances with forces hostile to Velaris. If true, this could be the first move toward rebellion."
He slid a detailed sketch across the desk. The male's sharp features and cold, calculating eyes etched into the paper made your stomach tighten. Rhys's voice remained steady as he continued. "Kaieel is the orchestrator. We need names, allies, plans—anything we can use to dismantle his efforts before they gain traction. The masks and secrecy of the event work in our favor. You'll attend, blend in with the crowd, and leave no trace of your presence."
"And our cover?" you asked, though you weren't sure you wanted the answer.
Rhys's lips twitched. "Newlyweds."
The single word hit you like a jolt of lightning. Your heart stumbled, catching somewhere between shock and disbelief. "A couple?" you uttered, trying to keep your voice even.
"A young pair enamored with each other and blissfully distracted. The perfect cover." Rhys's eyes sparkled with mirth, though his tone was all business. "An unattached male draws suspicion. A pair in love does not."
Azriel didn't react outwardly, but his silence spoke volumes. You risked a glance at him, finding his gaze fixed somewhere distant. Was the idea truly so unbearable to him?
"The priority," Rhys continued, "is information. If your cover is compromised, you extract yourselves immediately. But until then, you'll need to act the part—dancing, whispering... perhaps even a kiss or two, if the situation calls for it."
"Rhys," Azriel growled, low and lethal.
Rhys only smirked, clearly enjoying his brother's discomfort. "Relax, Az. You might even have fun. Any questions?"
You shook your head, pulse hammering. The mission was simple in theory, but with Azriel by your side—close enough to feel his warmth, to brush against the bond neither of you had spoken of—it felt like you were stepping into something far more dangerous than a ballroom full of enemies.
"Good," Rhys said, dismissing you both with a wave. "You leave at dusk."
Azriel turned abruptly, the tension in his wings a visible reminder of the storm brewing within him. As he stalked toward the door, you followed, already bracing yourself for the days to come.
Whatever lay ahead, one thing was clear: the mission wouldn't just test your skills as a spy—it would test every fragile boundary you and Azriel had built between the two of you.
—
You smoothed your hands down the fabric of your gown, the soft, luxurious material clinging perfectly to your frame before pooling at your feet. It was a deep shade of midnight grey, almost black, designed to shimmer as if it were the color of the moon itself, glimmering silver in the right lighting. The neckline dipped just enough to be daring without crossing into scandalous, and the fitted bodice accentuated every curve. The gown was a far cry from the shadowy leathers you had grown accustomed to during training.
Your fingers brushed over the mask lying on the vanity before you. It was delicate, intricate silver filigree adorned with tiny crystals that caught the light to match my dress. The sight of it alone made your stomach twist with nerves, though you refused to let the feeling take hold. You were a spy, not some jittery debutante.
Focus.
Your gaze shifted to the mirror as you adjusted the gown again, letting out a slow breath. The transformation was undeniable; the person staring back at you looked like they belonged at this kind of event. For a moment, you barely recognized yourself, and that unfamiliarity was almost reassuring. If you didn't recognize yourself, maybe no one else would either.
The soft knock at the door startled you. You turned, calling out, "Come in."
The door creaked open, and Azriel stepped inside, closing it behind him with deliberate care.
Your breath was stolen from your lungs at the sight of the Shadow Singer.
He wore an all-black suit that looked as though it had been tailored specifically for him—and knowing the resources of the Night Court, it probably had. The sharp lines of the jacket emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, and the subtle sheen of the fabric only added to the air of elegance that clung to him. His wings were glamoured away, leaving no trace of their presence—which was upsetting, but it was his eyes that made up for it—those piercing hazel eyes, framed by long lashes that truly captured your attention. They swept over you in a single, assessing glance, and you swore you caught the faintest flicker of surprise before his features smoothed into their usual calm.
"You look..." His voice trailed off, and for once, he seemed at a loss for words.
"Like I'm about to infiltrate a ball filled with potential traitors to Velaris?" you offered lightly, trying to break the tension that had settled in the room.
"I was going to say beautiful, but that works too," he said simply, his voice low and even. The words sent a strange warmth curling through your chest, though you quickly buried it.
Azriel crossed the room, the measured grace of his movements a reminder of the lethal precision he carried with him always. He stopped just in front of you, holding out his hand. "Your mask."
You hesitated for a fraction of a second before handing it to him. His gloved fingers brushed against yours as he took it, and you were acutely aware of how close he was as he moved behind you.
The brush of his knuckles against your temple sent a shiver down your spine as he adjusted the mask, tying the soft ribbons at the back of your head with deft fingers. His scent—night-chilled mist and cedar—wrapped around you, a quiet distraction that made it hard to focus.
"There," he murmured, adjusting your hair around the ribbon before stepping back just enough for you to turn and face him. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment, and you wondered if he could sense the way your pulse quickened.
"You clean up well," you said, tilting your head slightly. "Almost didn't recognize you without all the shadows."
He raised a brow, a hint of amusement flickering across his face. "You'll have to forgive me for not returning the compliment."
Your lips twitched. "And why's that?"
"Because if I did, we'd be here all night," he replied smoothly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a rare, fleeting smile.
You blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected flirtation. Azriel's humor was subtle, almost elusive, but when it surfaced, it always left you reeling.
Before you could find a response, you remembered the last detail. "Oh, wait." You turned back to the vanity, retrieving the small box you'd nearly forgotten. Inside were two rings—simple, elegant bands meant to complete your cover as a married couple.
You slipped one onto your finger, the cool metal fitting perfectly, the sapphire stone placed atop it glimmering in the sunsetting light. You hold out the other to him. "Rhys gave them to me, for authenticity," you said, keeping your tone light despite the awkwardness that had crept into the air.
Azriel's gaze dropped to the ring in your hand, his expression unreadable as he took it. For a moment, you thought he might protest, but instead, he slid it onto his finger with careful precision.
He slipped it onto his finger without breaking eye contact, the deliberate slowness of the action making your heart race. "There," he said, holding his hand up to examine the ring. "How do I look as your doting husband?"
You took a step back, pretending to assess him with a critical eye. "Hmm, you'll pass—just barely. Try smiling a little more. You're supposed to be madly in love with me, remember?"
Azriel leaned in slightly, his hazel eyes glinting with amusement. "If I smile too much, they'll think I've lost my mind."
You let out a laugh, shaking your head. "Fair enough."
He reached out then, his hand brushing yours as he straightened an imaginary crease in the sleeve of your gown. The touch was fleeting but enough to send warmth creeping up your neck. When he pulled back, the air between you was thick with unspoken tension.
"Ready?" he asked, his voice soft but steady.
You nodded, grabbing the silver clutch from the vanity and looping it over your wrist. "As I'll ever be."
Azriel extended his arm, a rare gesture that made your lips twitch in surprise. "Shall we, gorgeous?" he teased, his tone low and smooth.
You slid your hand through the crook of his arm, matching his smirk with one of your own. "Lead the way, handsome." Whatever this mission had in store, it was clear the most dangerous thing you'd face tonight wasn't Kaieel or his allies. It was Azriel—and the way he made you feel.
—
The ballroom glittered like a scene from a dream, opulent and indulgent in every detail. Chandeliers sparkled with a thousand lights overhead, their glow casting a soft radiance across the sea of masked figures swirling on the marble floor. The air buzzed with muted conversations, laughter, and the soft strains of a symphony playing in the background.
Your arm was looped through Azriel's, his warmth bleeding into you even through the layers of your gown and his tailored suit. He guided you into the crowd with an ease that belied his tension, his hazel eyes scanning every face, every shadow, every corner.
"Stay close," he murmured, the words just for you, his breath brushing against your temple. His voice, low and commanding, sent a shiver down your spine, though you quickly disguised it as a nod of agreement.
"Hard to get closer than this," you quipped softly, unable to resist. You felt him stiffen slightly under your hand, his wings—glamoured away but somehow still present in your mind—practically bristling with restrained energy.
He didn't respond, but the faintest curve of his lips betrayed him. If it weren't for the mask obscuring part of his face, you might have caught the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Instead, his focus shifted, scanning the room until it landed on your target.
Kaieel stood near the far edge of the room, his tall frame commanding attention even in this crowd of nobles. His mask, dark and menacing, covered much of his face, but his icy blue eyes gleamed through the filigree, sharp and calculating. A small circle of sycophants surrounded him, laughing too loudly at his every word. He raised a crystal flute to his lips, sipping lazily as though the fate of Prythian wasn't potentially hanging on his next move.
"Eyes on Kaieel," Azriel murmured, tilting his head just enough for his words to reach you. "But keep it subtle. The last thing we want is him noticing our interest too early."
"Subtlety is my specialty," you whispered back, earning a flick of his gaze, though he said nothing. His grip on your hand tightened as he steered you toward the dance floor.
Before you could question him, Azriel pivoted smoothly, releasing your arm only to catch your hand and pull you into a waltz. The sudden movement startled you, your other hand landing instinctively on his shoulder as he spun you into the rhythm of the music.
"A dance?" you asked, arching a brow as you tried to ignore the way his hand settled on your waist, firm but not overbearing.
"Blending in," he replied simply, though the set of his jaw betrayed the faintest hint of awkwardness. "Everyone else is dancing. And from here, we have a better view of Kaieel."
You followed his lead, your feet moving in time with his despite the distraction of his proximity. The bond hummed faintly at the back of your mind, an awareness you fought to suppress as you focused on the task at hand. His scent—cedar and chilled mist—wrapped around you, grounding and maddening all at once.
"So," you ventured, your voice low, "do we just stare at him all night, or do we actually have a plan?"
Azriel's lips twitched, a ghost of a smile. "Patience. Kaieel will make his move eventually. Until then, we observe."
"Observation is all well and good," you said, your tone light despite the weight of the moment, "but what if he decides to slip away before we get what we need?"
"He won't," Azriel replied, his confidence a quiet anchor in the storm of your nerves. "He's too arrogant to think anyone here is a threat to him."
You were about to respond when Kaieel's laugh cut through the music, sharp and derisive. Your gaze flicked toward him in time to see him gesture grandly to his circle, drawing their attention—and yours. The words he spoke were lost in the distance, but the smug tilt of his head and the pointed glance he cast toward a cloaked figure in the corner sent a chill down your spine.
"Did you see that?" you murmured, tilting your head subtly toward Kaieel.
Azriel's grip on your waist tightened imperceptibly. "I saw. He's signaling someone."
Your next step faltered, and Azriel steadied you instantly, his hand at your back pressing you closer. "Careful," he murmured, his voice low enough to send a shiver through you. "If you trip, they'll notice."
"Noted," you said, your cheeks warming despite yourself. You tilted your head again, pretending to focus on him as you spoke. "The cloaked figure in the corner. Could be a contact."
"Could be," Azriel agreed, his hazel eyes flicking toward the figure in question. "But we won't know for sure until we get closer."
"And how do you propose we do that without drawing attention?" you asked, trying to ignore the way his hand seemed to linger on your back, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your gown in a way that felt almost deliberate.
Azriel's lips curved into a smirk, subtle but unmistakable. "Leave that to me."
Before you could question him further, the song ended, and he stepped back, bowing slightly as he offered you his arm again. You accepted it, allowing him to guide you off the dance floor and toward the far side of the room. Kaieel's attention was still focused on his circle, oblivious to your approach.
Azriel leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "We'll circle the room, make small talk, and get close enough to overhear. Follow my lead."
"Always," you replied softly, the word slipping out before you could stop it. Azriel's gaze snapped to yours, something unreadable flickering in his eyes, but he said nothing as he led you deeper into the crowd.
The mission demanded your focus, but with Azriel at your side, his presence steady and unyielding, you couldn't help but wonder if the real danger tonight wasn't the secrets hidden in this ballroom—but the ones you carried in your heart.
You move through the ballroom like smoke, seamlessly blending with the opulent crowd. Strangers smile at you—glittering masks of civility over a sea of intentions. They don't need to know who you are; your presence, the confident tilt of your chin, and the luxury of your attire tell them enough. Wealth recognizes power, even in passing.
When you wave at a woman standing beside Kaieel, she returns the gesture, though her eyes narrow ever so slightly, a flicker of confusion betraying her effort to place you. Still, she beckons you closer with the smooth grace of someone accustomed to command.
"Lady Reven," Azriel murmurs in your ear, his voice as soft and deliberate as the shadows that cling to him. "Ex-wife of Kaieel. The hostess of tonight's spectacle."
"She invited her ex-husband?" you ask under your breath, your smile unwavering despite the furrow of your brows.
"He's funding it," Azriel replies, his golden eyes scanning the room. "This way, he and his associates can conspire without his name attached. If the plot unravels—"
"She takes the fall," you finish, your mind catching up to the threads he's weaving.
"Precisely," he says with a wry twist of his lips. Then, with a pointed glance at Lady Reven, he adds, "And she, my love, is your key to him."
Your heart stumbles at his phrasing. Your key? You open your mouth to protest, but he silences you with a slight tilt of his head. "I won't be far," he assures you, his voice a soft promise. And then, as if sensing your doubt, the cool, silken pressure of shadows winds beneath your dress, curling around your thigh like an unspoken vow. The sensation is enough to make your knees threaten to buckle.
"What do I even say to her?" you whisper, frowning.
Azriel chuckles, low and teasing. "Have you forgotten all your training already?" The confidence in his tone steadies you. "You'll do just fine. I'll fetch us drinks and join you shortly," he adds, leaning down to press a brief, warm kiss to your temple before vanishing into the crowd like mist.
You force a breath into your lungs and set your shoulders, willing confidence into your stride as you cross the ballroom. The shadows move with you, unseen but ever-present, their cool touch synchronizing with the rhythm of your steps.
As you approach a table laden with crystalline champagne flutes and decadent sweets, your ears tune in to the sharp edges of Lady Reven's voice, drifting from where she speaks to a maid.
"And make sure he leaves alone tonight," she hisses. "He's humiliated me enough in public without dragging some—other female into it."
The maid nods, scurrying off, and you let your gaze fall to the intricately carved edge of the table. The urge to fidget nearly overcomes you before Lady Reven's voice pulls you from the habit.
"I wouldn't bother with the chocolates," she says coolly, stepping closer.
You glance at her, feigning an easy smile. "Good to know." You nod. "I've never been one for sweets anyway, Lady Reven."
Her ruby-red lips curl upward in a knowing smirk. "Have we met?" she asks, her sharp eyes studying you with thinly veiled suspicion.
"Only on paper," you reply smoothly. "My husband works for Kaieel."
Recognition softens her features. "Ah, a friend of Kaieel is a friend of mine," she purrs. "Call me Valenia."
"Of course. Valenia," you echo with a nod, subtly testing the name.
"And where is your husband tonight?" she asks, gesturing vaguely to the glittering crowd.
You tilt your head with a small laugh. "Fetching me something stronger than this champagne," you quip, gesturing towards the burbling fountain of sparkling wine in the center. The honesty surprises her into a laugh of her own.
"Well, I'll have to apologize for the watered-down drinks," she says lightly, her tone dripping with feigned humility.
"No need. This is a stunning event," you counter, gesturing to the ballroom.
A flicker of satisfaction crosses her face. "I think we're alike, you and I," she muses, before looping her arm through yours. "Come. I'll introduce you to Kaieel."
Your pulse quickens as she steers you across the room. You catch Azriel's golden gaze from where he's threading through the crowd, his expression unreadable but his presence grounding.
"I really should wait for my husband," you try, a nervous laugh slipping out. "We've been recently married, couldn't keep him away if I tried." You attempt to excuse.
"Then it'll be easy for him to find us, hm?" Valenia dismisses with a wink, tugging you forward until you're standing before Kaieel himself.
Kaieel was sprawled on a chaise lounge, maids bringing him drinks, butlers feeding him by hand like he was some kind of king. Even Rhys wasn't this ostentatious. His turquoise eyes fell on you as Lady Raven guided you towards him, dragging his gaze across every inch of your figure. You did your best to ignore it, giving him a bashful smile.
"What have I done to deserve the company of two such radiant creatures?" Kaieel drawls, his grin wide and smug as he leans back in his seat.
"Kai," Valenia greets, her tone deceptively warm, intimacy still flowing between them. "This is—oh, dear, I fear I never got your name."
Before you can answer, an arm slides around your shoulders, pulling you into the familiar scent of cedar and night mist, the warmth of his hold makes your tense shoulders relax.
"Mrs. Lawmore," Azriel announces smoothly, answering for you as he gives Kaieel a grin, his smile disarming as he shields you beneath his presence.
"Lawmore?" Kaieel's eyes narrow with interest. "Lysan Lawmore, is that you under that mask?"
Azriel bows his head slightly, keeping his eyes down in fear of being caught. "It's been some time, apology for my absence but my beautiful wife here needed to be spoiled after our wedding night." You didn't want to know what happened to the real Lysan, neither did you want to know what Azriel did to him to get this information out of him.
"And how exactly did you win over such a lovely companion?" Kaieel continues, taking your hand with practiced charm, his lips brushing lightly over the sapphire on your ring finger.
You smile, tilting your head bashfully. "I believe I was the one winning him over," you say, cutting in before Azriel can.
Azriel's fingers trail from your shoulder down your arm, taking your hand from Kaieel's grasp and threading his fingers with yours. His touch is possessive but gentle, a silent claim.
"How sweet," Kaieel remarks, raising his glass in mock toast. "Remember when we were like that, darling?"
Valenia's eyes flash, her smirk tightening as she looks away. "They're newlyweds, Kai. Still in the honeymoon phase."
"Newlyweds, you say? Well, then," Kaieel says with a devilish grin. "We must celebrate. Let's toast!" He stood, raising his glass. He didn't have to so much as say a word for the entire ballroom to halt and turn to him.
"So kind of all of you to join us on this fine evening, not only are we celebrating this beautiful gathering the lovely Valenia put together," He pauses for a moment to gesture towards the woman who gave a practiced smile and an elegant wave of her hand. "But we are also celebrating the recently pronounced Mr. And Mrs. Lawmore!" He raises his glass, and even if none of these people so much as knew your name, they cheered anyway. Like puppets on a string, controlled by Kaieel himself.
"Go on," Kaieel presses, leaning forward with a wicked glint in his eye. "Kiss the bride."
The demand sends a shiver down your spine. Even the shadows twining around your legs seem to still, waiting.
Azriel was already staring at you, his eyes searching yours. His lips quirk into a soft, almost shy smile, and the question in his gaze is unmistakable.
You nod, barely perceptibly.
"Come here, love," he murmurs, his voice coaxing, tender.
Your lips met, fitting together with startling, unspoken precision—like the final piece of a puzzle you never realized was incomplete until it clicked into place. The kiss lasted only a heartbeat, but in that fleeting moment, everything shifted. The air between the two of you thickened, buzzing with a quiet intensity, as if the universe itself had paused to watch.
Something deep inside you stirred, a part of yourself you'd long buried or perhaps never even known. It unfurled like a blossom in the first light of dawn, warm and aching, a golden thread spinning itself between you. It twined tighter with every second, binding not just your bodies but something deeper, something elemental.
For that brief, infinite instant, there was no ballroom, no crowd, no mission. Just the two of you—two souls suspended in the gravity of a pull you couldn't name but could feel down to your very bones.
And then, like the breathless silence before a storm, realization hit you with shattering clarity. This wasn't just a kiss. It was him. Azriel.
Your mate.
The kiss ended as gently as it began, your eyes wide and searching but he remained calm and steady, you whisper, "You've known?"
Azriel's gaze flickers to your lips, then back to your eyes, as if he was going to kiss you again, and again, and again until the gods themselves had to rip him from you. But before he can answer, the room erupts into applause, Kaieel's voice booming with praise.
Even as the crowd cheers and music resumes, you hear nothing but the pounding of your heart, feel nothing but the truth that thrums in your blood.
Mate.
And he knew.
You don't have time to process the truth searing through your veins. Mate. The word echoes in your mind like a thunderclap, threatening to drown out everything else. But Azriel's hand tightens around yours, steady and grounding. His golden eyes flicker with something unreadable—a mix of reassurance and warning—and you understand: you can't falter. Not here. Not now.
Kaieel's voice cuts through the applause, smug and commanding. "Come now, don't let the celebration stop the night's festivities. Dance, drink, enjoy yourselves!" His hand sweeps over the crowd, his charisma intoxicating, pulling their attention away from you. For now.
"You're too kind, Kaieel," Azriel says. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to spend some time with my wife."
Azriel tugs gently on your hand, guiding you away from the center of the ballroom. You follow, trying to shake the weight of the bond snapping into place. But even as he leads you, the golden thread between you hums with a new, undeniable awareness, the shadows brushing against you like a silent promise.
He doesn't speak until you've reached the edge of the room, tucked into the shadowy recess of a grand marble column. His lips are close to your ear, his voice low and smooth. "Are you with me?"
You nod, the words caught in your throat.
"Good," he murmurs. "We need to move fast. Valenia is the key to his plans. Now that you become acquainted we can use her."
You blink, willing yourself to focus. "How?"
"She's vulnerable," Azriel says, his tone edged with calculation. "Kaieel still holds power over her, and it's clear she despises him for it. We can exploit that. Learn who his allies are, how he's funding this rebellion. If we play her right, she'll give us everything."
You glance toward the center of the room, where Valenia stands at Kaieel's side, her posture poised but her eyes cold as she watches him bask in the attention of the crowd. Her mask of indifference is expertly crafted, but you can see the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers tighten around her champagne flute.
"She definitely hates him," you say quietly. "But will she betray him?"
Azriel's shadows curl against your skin, cold and steady. "She already has. Hosting this event on his behalf, exposing him to scrutiny. She's more desperate than she lets on." He tilts his head toward you, his voice softer now. "We just need to give her the final push."
You swallow hard, nodding. "And if she doesn't break?"
Azriel's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Then we'll find another way. We always do."
Before you can reply, a servant approaches with a silver tray bearing two glasses of dark red wine. Azriel accepts both, handing one to you with an easy smile that belies the sharpness of his focus.
"Drink," he murmurs. "And dance with me. They're watching."
"Again?" You ask, your heart stuttering, but you take the glass, letting him guide you back toward the dance floor.
"This is a ball, love." The music swells as he pulls you into his arms, his movements are fluid and natural as though you've danced together a hundred times. "You didn't think I'd be satiated with one dance, did you?"
The bond thrums again, golden and electric, and you can't ignore it any longer. "You knew, Az," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the violins.
Azriel's gaze flicks to yours, soft but unyielding. "Not here," he murmurs.
"But—"
"Later," he insists, his tone leaving no room for argument. His hand tightens slightly on your waist, grounding you. "Focus."
This is why he didn't want you coming, you realize. You force yourself to breathe, to move with him, to match the rhythm of the music. Around you, the crowd swirls, their laughter and chatter a muted backdrop. Kaieel and Valenia are watching from the edge of the room, their expressions unreadable.
"Valenia's looking for an ally," Azriel murmurs as he twirls you gracefully. "She doesn't trust him to win against Rhys. We offer her a way out, and she'll talk."
"How do we approach her without raising suspicion?"
Azriel's lips curve into a faint smirk. "Snead your way into her inner circle. Let her think it was her idea. I'll shadow you, gather what I can from Kaieel's other guests."
"And if something goes wrong?"
His hand slides up to your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your collarbone—a fleeting, deliberate touch. "It won't."
The music slows, and he pulls you closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And even if it did, I'd slaughter everyone in this room to get you out."
You shiver, both from fear and something you didn't have time to familiarize yourself with.
The song ends, and Azriel steps back, his mask of calm once again firmly in place. He presses a light kiss to your hand, his lips brushing your knuckles as his golden eyes lock onto yours.
"I'll be watching," he murmurs. Then he's gone, slipping into the crowd as if he were never there.
You take a steadying breath, turning your gaze toward Valenia. She's speaking with a pair of aristocrats now, her laughter light and airy, but her eyes remain calculating. You approach slowly, your steps measured and deliberate.
"Lady Valenia," you say with a soft smile as you reach her side. "I must thank you again for this incredible event."
She turns to you, her lips curling into a practiced smile. "Ah, Mrs. Lawmore. Enjoying yourself, I hope?"
"Very much," you reply smoothly. "Though I must admit, I'd hoped for a chance to speak with you more privately. Your reputation precedes you."
Her brows lift slightly, intrigue flickering in her eyes. "Does it now? And what exactly have you heard?"
You lean in slightly, lowering your voice just enough to draw her closer. "That you're the true power behind Kaieel's successes. A woman of vision and cunning."
She laughs softly, but there's a sharpness to it. "And what would you want with a woman like that, my dear?"
You smile, your gaze steady. "To learn from you, of course. I imagine there's much you could teach me."
Her eyes narrow slightly, studying you. Then, with a sly smile, she links her arm with yours. "Come, let's talk. Away from prying eyes."
As she leads you toward a quieter corner of the ballroom, you catch a glimpse of Azriel in the crowd. He's watching, his expression unreadable but his presence a constant reassurance.
The game has begun.
———
The ball had stretched into the long hours of the night. Most guests had already taken their leave, yet a few lingered—drunkards, their fingers greedily grasping for what remained of the free wine. You had spent the evening carefully cultivating a list of names, all while trying not to let the thought of your mate—a word that still felt foreign in your mind—distract you.
Valenia, meanwhile, had rattled on endlessly, weaving a tapestry of grand schemes to dismantle Kaieel's empire and seize it for herself. Such a fool. The way she outlined every step was invaluable, her unwitting admissions offering a clear view of both her vulnerabilities and Kaieel's. For someone who fancied herself clever, she didn't understand the dangers of oversharing. Perhaps conspiring alone for so long had driven her to some invisible line of insanity, one she'd now crossed with aplomb.
She was smarter than Kaieel, no doubt, but she wasn't as sharp as she thought herself to be. The rich rarely were. They plotted in circles, their plans frayed with assumptions that gold could patch any hole. A society built on corruption and greed was a society destined to crumble.
A knock on the door shattered the air between you, halting Valenia mid-sentence. Both of you froze as the door creaked open, revealing familiar black hair and molten golden eyes.
"Lysan," you said smoothly, forcing an easy smile.
Valenia hiccuped, swaying slightly as she glanced between you. The liquor had loosened her tongue and dulled her senses—a poor, unsuspecting thing. You'd kept her glass full all night, though yours had remained barely touched.
"You two are lucky," she murmured, her words slurred but still carrying a bite of jealousy.
Azriel tilted his head, stepping closer with his hand outstretched. You met him halfway, your fingers intertwining as if it were second nature.
"So in love," Valenia sighed wistfully. She swirled the deep red liquid in her glass. "Kaieel never looked at me the way he looks at you."
Azriel didn't miss a beat. "I am lucky, aren't I?" His voice was low as he leaned in, pressing a kiss just beneath your ear. The touch sent a tremor down your spine, though you leaned into him all the same, your composure unwavering.
"You two lovebirds get out of here," Valenia hummed, waving you off with a glass in hand. "I'll see you soon, Mrs. Lawmore."
You smiled at the title she so easily handed over, bowing your head alongside Azriel as you both slipped out of the room. Moments later, you left the ballroom entirely, leaving behind the clinking of glasses and murmurs of deceit.
———
Once you winnowed into The Cabin, the air was thick with unresolved tension, a thread drawn too tight and ready to snap. You released Azriel's arm but remained close, your breath steady, your gaze piercing.
He shifted, glancing at you with that careful, measured expression of his, but you saw through it. His wings flared slightly before tucking back, as if the space were already too confined for what lay between you.
"We need to debrief with Rhys—" he began, but the words barely escaped before you cut him off, your voice sharp.
"No." You held up a hand, stepping back. "We're not ignoring this."
Azriel sighed heavily, dragging a hand through his dark hair. He reached up, removing the mask with a deliberate slowness that felt like deflection. "Can I at least get comfortable first?"
"Seriously?" you snapped, your arms crossing over your chest.
But he ignored your tone, unbuttoning his shirt with maddening ease. The fabric slipped from his shoulders, revealing smooth, tan skin and the faint lines of tattoos curling down his forearms. Then came his wings—massive, stretching wide as the glamour faded, their dark beauty filling the room like a storm rolling in.
You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to look away as he folded them neatly behind him.
“Go on," he said, leaning back against the couch, his tattooed arms crossing over his chest, the sight terribly distracting. "I'm listening."
You glared at him, your voice tight. "You knew," you state.
He nodded slightly, but he said nothing, his golden eyes fixed on you with unnerving calm.
"Why didn't you tell me?" you demanded, your voice cracking despite your best efforts. "The bond—it's not something you just don't mention. Did you think I couldn't handle it?"
He exhaled slowly, his gaze steady. "It wasn't like that."
"Then what was it?" you shot back, your frustration spilling over. "You knew this whole time. Azriel, do you have any idea what it feels like to find out this way? To realize you've been keeping something this—this huge from me?"
His jaw tightened, but his expression softened just enough to betray a flicker of vulnerability. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to force it on you."
You barked out a bitter laugh. "Force it on me? What does that even mean? Did you think I'd reject it?"
Azriel stiffened, his wings flexing behind him as if to shield himself. "It's not that simple."
"Then make it simple," you snapped. "Because right now, it feels like you didn't tell me because you were planning to reject the bond. That you didn't want me—"
His voice cut through yours, low and rough like gravel. "Don't."
The single word silenced you, but only for a moment.
"Then tell me the truth, Azriel," you demanded, your tone breaking under the weight of the words. "Tell me why you didn't say anything. Was it because you didn't want me, or because you thought I didn't want you?"
That hit its mark. His jaw clenched, and he looked away, his wings shifting behind him as though he could fly away from the conversation. But he didn't. Instead, he took a step closer, the heat of his body suffocating.
"Love, please," he said, his voice tight with something raw and unspoken. "Do you know what it's like to see your mate and think, this is it—this is everything I've ever wanted—and to know they don't feel the same? To be terrified that if you tell them, they'll look at you like you're nothing?"
Your breath caught, the weight of his words crashing into you.
"Az."
"I didn't tell you," he continued, his voice quieter now, "because I didn't want to lose you before I even had you. I thought if I told you, it would scare you off. You'd think it was some obligation instead of a choice. And I couldn't risk that. I couldn't risk, us."
You blinked, the truth settling over you like a heavy blanket. He hadn't been withholding it because he didn't want you—he'd been scared. Scared of rejection. Scared of you walking away.
"Do you have any idea how hard it's been?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly. "To see you every day, to stand beside you, and know I couldn't tell you? That I had to act like you were just someone I trained?"
Your heart twisted at the vulnerability in his words, but the anger lingered, sharp and cutting.
"You still should've told me," you said, your voice soft but firm. "You should've given me the choice. You didn't get to decide that for me."
"I know." He looked at you then, and the regret in his eyes made your chest ache. "I know I should've told you. And I'll regret that for the rest of my life. But don't think, not even for a second, that I didn't want you."
Silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words. He took a step closer, his golden eyes searching yours.
"You can hate me for not telling you," he said, his voice low and rough. "You can hate me for being a coward. But don't ever think I didn't want this. Don't think I didn't want you. Please."
You stood there, his words reverberating in your chest, threatening to undo the last thread of your composure. His golden eyes never left yours, the air between you charged with too much to name. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your breathing even as emotions warred within you.
Finally, you broke the silence. "You should've told me," you said softly, the edge in your voice dulling. "Because for all your talk of not forcing it, you didn't even consider that I might have wanted it too."
His eyes widened slightly, and you took a half-step closer, the tension between you pulling tight.
"I've felt, something," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper now. "For a while. I just figured it was a stupid crush, that I was imagining the lingering glances and the all too long touches." You inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "But now I know."
His breath hitched, and for the first time, Azriel looked truly shaken. Vulnerable. Like he didn't know what to do with your words.
So you took the choice away and kissed him.
It was tentative at first, your lips brushing his with a softness that belied the storm building inside you. He froze for a heartbeat, and you thought maybe you'd miscalculated—but then his hands were on your waist, pulling you closer.
When you pulled back, your lips tingling, you raised a brow at the stunned expression on his face. "Kiss me like that again and I might just have to accept the bond," you teased, your tone light but laced with meaning.
"Oh, I'll do more than that." He replied with an easy smirk on his face and before you could muster a flustered reply he connected your lips again, harder this time, more desperate. His hands slid up your back, his wings stretching slightly as though the emotions were too much for him to contain. You gasped into him, his shadows curling around your legs as his lips claimed you fully, unapologetically.
The kiss stretched, time losing meaning as you melted into him. His tongue brushed against yours, his grip on you firm yet reverent, as if he couldn't decide whether to pull you closer or keep himself in check.
He kisses you like it's the only thing keeping him tethered to the world like you're the air he needs to breathe. His lips press against yours with fervent urgency, soft yet commanding, leaving no space for hesitation.
The warmth of his mouth sends a shiver racing down your spine, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of him—silken and deliberate, coaxing, drawing you in until everything else fades. His hands tighten at your waist, his fingers digging into your dress that rivaled the intensity of his kiss.
The world tilts, time seems to stall, and all you can feel is him—the taste of him, the way his body leans into yours as though he can't bear to be apart. Every brush of his lips, every slight tilt of his head, feels like an unspoken confession as if through this kiss alone, he's telling you everything he can't put into words.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless. His lips were slightly swollen, his golden eyes darkened with something almost primal.
"What does this mean?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion.
You tilted your head, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "It means," you said, brushing a finger against his chest, "you're going to sit right there." You push him slightly, and he falls back onto the couch as if you struck him with an unrecoverable blow.
He blinked, clearly thrown off by the abrupt shift in your tone. "What?"
"Sit right there," you repeated, gesturing toward the couch. Then, turning on your heel, you made your way toward the kitchen without a backward glance.
He stared after you, confused as to where you were going during a moment like this.
The sound of pans clinking and spices mingling in the air brought him back to reality, though he still couldn't fully grasp what was happening. He'd faced centuries of war, unflinching in the face of death, yet now he sat there—utterly flustered.
An agonizing twenty minutes later, you returned with a tray, setting it down on the small table in front of him. The aroma was rich and comforting, a simple yet meaningful meal that made his chest tighten.
You placed the tray in front of him, your expression softer now, though the playful glint in your eye hadn't dimmed. "Eat, Azriel," you said, settling beside him. "You've earned it after all these years."
He stared at the plate for a moment, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Then he looked at you, his voice unsteady. "This... this is real, isn't it?"
You smiled, leaning down, pressing a kiss onto the corner of his lips just because you couch. "What do you think?"
Azriel didn't answer, but the faintest smile tugged at his lips as he picked up the fork. You watched as he took the first bite, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.
The bond hummed between you, a quiet, unspoken promise. And as Azriel sat there, eating the food you'd prepared with shadows still swirling around your feet, you realized that this—this quiet moment—was the most eventful part of the night.
And for once, Azriel looked at ease. Flustered, yes. But undeniably yours. And soon, the frenzy would set in, and he'd show you exactly how much of him was yours, body and soul, mates.
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either.
You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.
[this is long. i'm talking 5k words long so i've split it into two parts. anyway, azriel is the best bat boy and no i won't hear anyone out. i'm so excited to write for him and hope you enjoy. it's very angsty but that's what i love. i hope i can write more for him and maybe other characters if you like. it's been a while since i've actually read the series so if any information is wrong, do let me know. also it was my first time using the term y/n and yes, i cringed NOT PROOF READ... enjoy]
warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.
Part 2 soon…
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The first, was the worst...
You were Rhys's half sister, the bastard daughter of his father. But when your mother had died giving birth to you, Rhysand's mother took you in and raised you with your brother and sister. You were so little and adorable that your sister loved you at once. Rhys did to, at some point of your life, you were sure he actually cared about you.
But when his mother and sister had died, his eyes shifted, he started to look at you with contempt. After all, you were only his half-sister. The worst half. He only kept you around because it's what his mother would have wanted.
And because there was no way Cassian and Azriel would ever let anything happen to you.
Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.
Although Azriel was his spymaster, you were pretty good at staying swift-footed too. And you were frankly, very terrifying when you wanted to be.
You tread with power through the war camps, all of them looking at you as you went. All of their gazes wrecked with a predatory gaze. They either wanted to have their way with you, or kill you. Or both.
Rhys had said you could handle it, it was only supposed to be a check in. Cassian hadn't liked it, neither had Mor but it was Azriel who had almost- and for the first time- disobeyed his high lord to accompany you. But no, your brother wanted you to do this alone, so alone you would.
Just to show him you could.
'I can come with you,' Azriel had said, standing in your room as you tied your boots up. 'I won't even have to be seen.' At that, his shadows wrapped up your calf.
You smiled at them, as if they were his own pet. 'I'll manage just fine. Besides, i'm sure that's what Rhys wants, me needing a man.'
It had done nothing to calm your friend. The worry was still stuck between his brows, marring his handsome features. You'd held his cheeks, your wings hiding the two of you. His large ones (enough to swallow the both of you) over-lapped yours.
It was the last time you'd feel your wings.
The war camp wasn't as easy as you'd hoped. It was terror and horror in a place. You'd been to the court of nightmares, you'd gone to the slaughter of the spring court after they killed your family. But this, this was hell of another kind.
You had no idea how many days you'd been locked up, wrists bound in chains and hanging from the cell roof above you. Blood rolled down your arms from the force you'd tried to use to get them out. Your eye was swollen shut and your body trembled in pain.
All because they wanted to know your brothers secrets, and you wouldn't budge.
Your check was only supposed to be a day, but you were sure it had been longer. Days of endless pain and torture. Your uniform hung in rags of stripped material, your hair matted with blood and hiding your face.
You'd used the last of your energy to keep your walls up. You weren't anyone's mate, you didn't have anyone on the other end trying to feel what you felt. But should Rhys come looking (though you doubted it) you didn't want him to feel it. You didn't want anyone in your mind.
The gates opened with a sickening clash.
One of the Illyrian's knelt in front of you, his wings hiding those coming in behind you. 'Listen sweetheart. I don't want to make this any harder than it's about to get. All you have to do is tell us your brother's hide outs.'
You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.
'So loyal, to a man who doesn't care if you live or die.'
Suddenly, your wings twitched as hands grasped them. Brute hands, the sort you wouldn't want touching any part of you.
Fear spiked in you, horror twisting your gut. 'What are you doing?'
'I told you I didn't want to get things messier, darling.'
You whipped your head from side to side, trying and failing to get a look at the assailants behind you. Your wings were being held apart, no matter how hard you tried to bat them away. You knew the sort of people they were, and what they did to girls like you.
That's when the begging started. 'No, no please. Anything. I'll do anything! Beat me, kill me, rape me, not my wings, please!'
'Anything?' the bastard asked, tongue poking out from his lips. 'Then tell me where your lord's hideouts are?'
You should betray him, you thought. He would never lose his wings for you. Perhaps it was stubbornness that kept you from, or maybe you were clinging to the last bit of love you want from him.
The bastard scoffed, 'anything, she says. Your brother has his own bitch wrapped around his finger.'
That's when they started hacking at your wings.
Your screams tore through your throat, blood spitting and dripping down your chin. Tears soon joined when they hacked away at the bone, the membrane, the flesh of it all. The three of them worked through your screams and your tears and your pain, tearing and cutting at it like it was nothing more than paper.
Not your whole life.
Let them hear you. You hoped your brother heard you, you hoped all and every court heard the pain.
Eventually, even you couldn't keep screaming. The only sound was the hacking away at your wings and the drops of blood.
'Now look at these beauties. I've got a perfect spot on my wall for these.'
They left you after that. There wasn't much more damage they could do. It already felt like they'd destroyed your life. You had never really thought about your wings, they were just part of you, as much as your wit or hair was. But they'd took it and now, you felt empty. Never would you fly with Azriel again, or use your wings to smack Cassian over the head.
Rhys, your dear brother, had took that from you.
The days blended in together after that. You were pooled in your own tears and blood, vomiting up anything they forced down your throat. No, they'd made it very clear they didn't want you dead. They just took pride in making it feel like you were.
At some point, you'd stopped reacting to the gate opening. You let them do whatever they wanted with you. Your wrists were still chained, arms still hanging up, your clothes hanging on your thin body in strips of dirt.
'No...' you heard a mumble. 'What have they done to you?'
Suddenly, the chains gave way and you lurched forward, with no strength to catch you. Luckily, you didn't have to, as strong and warm arms pulled you into his chest.
'Hey, wake up, look at me, dammit.'
Azriel.
You'd know the voice in the darkest days, in the pit of your worst nightmare you'd know.
You try to speak but your head's heavy, your lips are stone and your arms can't lift to hold onto him. You're exhausted, you're dying. The only thing you could do use all your strength to try to open your eyes.
'Please, please, look at me. You have to look at me,'
You were trying, you wanted to tell hm, snap at him, but you couldn't.
You felt Azriel shake, or maybe you were. Then, there was wet drops landing on your cheeks- you flinched.
'I'm sorry, i'm sorry. Rhys! Rhys! hurry up, please!' he was screaming. You'd never heard him scream before.
You heard the rush of feet at the cell doors, you knew it was your brother. You knew it from the presence of him, from the shuffling of feet and chocked sob. Your brother didn't cry, least of all for you.
'Her wings, oh mother, her wings,' said Azriel, his voice barley above that of a whisper.
Your wings. You didn't need reminding. They were gone, long and far gone. You were without a part of you, the very part of your soul that loved to be free. Never would you watch the stars up close or fly over everyone. Never race Cassian or make jokes with Az.
No, this would destroy you.
'y/n,' your half-brother called. 'No, y/n. Can you hear me?'
Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'
Azriel's grip on you tightened. 'I know, we're gonna get you out of here, just hold on for me.'
You wanted to tell him you would hold on, you'd always need to hold on to him. That, no matter what he asks, you'd do it. To kill, to live, to breathe, to die.
And that's when it clicked. Amongst all the pain and the doubt. In your blood soaked clothes. In the fear you wouldn't make it, there was a tug. Weak and one-sided, but there. You knew you'd be safe with Azriel, knew you would always be with him.
Mate.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The pain subsided to a dull ache, there and beating but not excruciating. You were warm and covered in a soft material. Nothing like the cell you'd been kept in. Your fingertips sunk into something soft- a bed. Your bed. It was familiar in its lavender scent to you and the silk wrapped around you gave you some semblance of warmth.
Your wings.
Even coming to consciousness was difficult. You were exhausted but light, without the weight of wings holding you down. You'd never realised how much you needed to feel that weight, to feel pulled down in order to be free.
Gone, all gone.
Your hand twitches around something cold, a shadow holding your hand, creeping up your side.
'You're awake, thank the couldron.'
It wasn't Azriel, master of the shadows. It wasn't your mate. Mate. The word replayed like a terrible song in your mind.
How dare the mother do this to Az. How dare he- nothing but loyal and kind- get stuck with a person made in darkness, who bled shadows, who's heart was so full of hate there wasn't room for love. They'd cursed Az, with you.
But luckily it wasn't him, it was Rhysand.
'It really happened,' you whispered, voice hurting from the screams.
He sighed. 'I'm sorry, i'm so sorry. We-we thought you weren't going to make it, you'd lost so much blood.'
In spite of the pain in your shoulders, you made a shift, turning from him as he ranted on about your condition.
'y/n... sister, please,' he said. He'd never called you sister before. He'd always been content to treat you just like you worked for him.
'Leave me alone.' you couldn't bare to look at him, couldn't bare to face him. The shadows at your hand grew heavier, as if more were piling on. You stretched your fingers away from them, trying to get them off you.
'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.
'Get out,' you mumbled.
The end of your bed dipped where Rhys settled, hand splayed on the covers, begging for your hand. 'y/n.'
'Get out!' you snapped, body tense and straining. You felt your wounds open up, blood wetting the bandage around you. But you didn't care. You'd happily bleed if you couldn't fly. A part of you, sick part of you wanted to be left there. It would be better than false sympathy.
Be better than your mate being disgusted.
'Get out!' you yelled again, voice tearing through an aching throat.
'I just want to help you! please, let me help you!' said Rhys, standing from your bed and walking around, trying to face you.
'I don't want your help!' you screamed. You reached for the closest thing you could, a jug of water and chucked it toward him. You aim was terrible, marred with pain and exhaustion. 'Get out!'
Though hesitant, Rhysand slowly started walking back to your door. He did it all looking at you, his hands out to show he wasn't gonna hurt you, but you didn't care. You went for the glasses next and chucked them but they landed against the door which he disappeared through.
Before it slid close you caught sight of Cassian , Mor and Azriel. All crowded, all waiting to see you.
You'd be happy if you never let them see you again.
'Can we see her?' you hear Mor ask.
'Give her time,' said Rhys.
The shadows at your hand grew heavier, darker, tighter.
'Go away!' you yelled at them. To anyone else, you probably looked crazy, screaming to darkness. But the shadows understood. They departed, slithering away and under the crack of your door where you could see the shadows of feet.
Tumbling from bed, you stumbled over and locked the door, leaning on it to and catching your breath. Your nightgown was starting to get sticky with blood all over again. When you closed your eyes, you pictured the cell, the rough hands holding you down, the chain keeping you up.
And the pain, it all washed over you. The hacking at your back, the sting of a slap. It hit you like a tone of bricks as you slid to the floor.
There was a knock, rattling the door.
'y/n,' Cassian. 'Please let us in.'
Us. You felt him on the other side. Your mate, his presence lingering. His shadows under the door, wanting to come in but keeping their distance.
He didn't know. It hadn't snapped for him, you could tell. It was one tug on your end, a chord in your heart. At least he couldn't feel what you did. At least you could shoulder it alone.
'Please.' his voice was almost your un-doing. He sounded so sad, so desperate. It hurt you just to think you were hurting him.
Tears streamed down your face as your curled your fingers into a tight fist. You assumed Mor had left with Rhys, leaving you there with the males.
Cass was always like a brother to you. Granted- a brother you had slept with once or twice- but he was your best friend. You'd always been close to him. But you'd always been good, a happy person.
You couldn't be that for them now, perhaps ever again.
It lasted like that for hours. Cassian and Az begging to come in, you curling into a ball with tears down your cheeks and blood down your back.
Eventually, they gave up. You couldn't hear them anymore and the shadows of their boots had disappeared.
Except Azriel's shadows that still lingered under your door. Maybe he'd ordered them to be there while they left you.
Eventually, you managed to find your footing on shaking legs. Your room was large, one of the largest. It was just as much a mess as it was when you'd left for you mission, clothes thrown over the place, books propped open on the pages you'd left them on. Everything was the same but could never be again.
It took you longer than you'd care to admit to get to your windows and throw the curtains close. Candles light at your request, the house looking after you as it had since you were a child.
You caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror. It seemed smaller, everything in the room felt too large and you too small, as if you were being swallowed by the expanse of it.
Your frame was small in the mirror, your hair disarrayed. Your eyes were red and shutting of their own accord from the tears that had drained you. The starving in the cells had made you look weak, made you feel weak.
And your back. There was no more looming black figures there, no more fluttering. There was just nothing. In spite of the ache as you lifted your arm, you felt around your back, feeling the hitch there, the lump from where they'd been torn from you.
You cry. You sob. You scream.
The scars were long and the nightdress was sticking to you by the blood you'd shed. All you could do, was hold yourself up as your body wracked with tears.
A breeze came from your windows, shadows tugging at the curtains.
You felt him before you saw him. You wanted to tell him to leave you but you couldn't talk without chocking. Without feeling like you couldn't breath.
Azriel had you in your arms before your knees could hit the ground. He fell with you, softening your body on the floor. His arms held you into his chest, his legs caging you into his body. His head rested on yours as he held you. He didn't try to talk, he didn't try to help. It was just him, you and his shadows.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Azriel remembered dozing off with you, his head on yours. His arms holding you into him, as if it was up to him to keep the sadness away and take it for you.
Afterall, you were his best friend. He should have been there for you, and he'd failed terribly by letting you get hurt and your wings stolen from you. He could hate himself every day for it, for letting you down. But it would never amount to what you felt for yourself and that killed him.
He could see it in the way you cried, in the way you were already keeping everyone out. He'd rather die than let you go through all the pain alone.
When his hands had been scarred by his brothers, you'd help heal him, tell him about everything he still was and all the power he still held in his hands. In the worst days, when he didn't let anyone touch him, he let you.
It was always you.
Azriel wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or how deep. He was sure he was still with you, still in your bed.
His shadows crept up on him, engulfing him slowly and whispering to him. Your name, just your name on repeat. It was enough to lull him back into sleep, to keep him calm.
Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.
He shot up and ran fastest than he ever had in his life. It was as if he'd never been asleep but had been fighting a battle with the way he raced over.
He burst through the doors, the cold hight air hitting him.
You stood facing the stars, your bloody back to him. It wasn't as much blood as when he'd found you, but it was still enough to put a lump in his throat.
Immediately his shadows fell to you, cascading down your body and wrapping around your waist. There was a breeze in the air, pushing your hair back and exposing more signs of the pain and torture you must have gone through.
'I'm not gonna jump, if that's what you're thinking,' you said. You didn't even have to turn to him. The shadows probably told you enough.
'Why are you up here?' he asked, walking to you slowly and with careful steps. As if every step closer could you push you away from him.
'I'll never feel the win properly again,' you answered.
Azriel gulped down his own pain. You’d never sounded so small. ‘Can you get away from the ledge?’
'I'm not on the ledge.'
'You're too close for my liking.'
'Leave if you don't like it.'
'Don't do this,' he said.
'Do what?' you asked, folding your arms over your chest. You were cold, out in the hight but you wanted to see the stars. Needed to see them.
'Make me leave. Make everyone leave you. I know that's what you're doing. It's what you do every time,' you could feel him dawning closer. His shadows were all around you, almost drowning you.
‘Every time,’ you scoff, stepping down and turning on him. ‘It’s not every day you lose your wings Azriel! But don’t let me stop you from leaving, flap them and go!’ You yelled, unable to stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t want to hurt him, you just wanted to be alone.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
'You jump and I’ll catch you,' he said. He was a step away, he could just reach out and touch, just a gentle caress. 'I swear it, whatever you do, I’ll follow. I’m not letting you get away.’
He watched your back shudder as he reached out, brushing knuckles against your shoulder blade. He heard your sharp inhale follow.
'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'
Finally, you turned around in his shadows. You couldn’t meet his eyes but at least you could face his chest.
His hands were gentle on your shoulder as he rubbed it gently. 'Can I get Madja to clean you up?' He asked.
You nodded as he led you away. You truly did not deserve your mate.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Fifty-two years later...
When Amarantha had trapped the high lords of Prythian under the mountain, it hadn't be a conscious choice to follow your half-brother down. How Amarantha had allowed it, you weren't sure, but perhaps she wanted to use you just like her brother, or she thought it would bring more pain for him to see you suffer under there too.
You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.
It had took you almost two months to heal fully enough to leave your room, another few months to face your family again. But even then, everyone knew something had changed in you. You didn't laugh as loud or smile as wide.
Rhysand was careful to ever let you out on a mission. Mor tried to take you out every night. Cassian spent all day every day with you and Azriel- he'd healed you better than any nurse.
Still, you had not told him he was your mate.
Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.
Still, you cared for your brother enough to not want him to go alone.
But being under the mountain, you could avoid your mate. At a painful price.
Until her. Rhys's mate. He hadn't shut up about her since he first met her, much to your dismay as you had to sit around and listen- having absolutely nothing better to do. And it only got worse when she turned up under the mountain. She was declaring her love for Tamlin- again, annoying your brother, and throwing Lucien into danger- which rather angered you. You had nothing against the ginger.
Rhysand had once sent you to find the girl to summon her as part of a bargain he'd made. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to look too forceful. You'd been lucky enough to find the two tangled up in each other against a cold wall, clothes ripped and hips moving together.
'Well, well well,' you'd intterupted.
Tamlin all but growled at you, but feyre was looking over you- evidently confused. She had no idea who you were. You, in your skimpy outfit that Amarantha kept you in (they all dipped low at your back, showing off your scars) and your eyes that were like a night sky.
'Amarantha's looking for her pet and Rhysand is looking for his. Honestly, i'd be a bit more worried if I were you. You know, considering Lucien still has an eye to lose.'
The two parted with your words as you sent Tamlin back to his master, the high lord glaring at you as you went. While Feyre tried to fix herself.
'Rhysand is over there, better not keep him waiting.' That was the first time you met her, having no idea how much trouble she'd be worth. The family that she'd become.
But Rhysand made sure you knew it all. From when the bond snapped in him and he'd stumbled. He ranted and ranted as they climbed out.
If only you were so talkative about Azriel. If only you could talk about him with your brother. But you'd tried not to painfully think about him. Climbing out of the mountain. It was all you could think of.
Maybe he'd have forgotten you? it had been fifty years. He'd probably realised how happy he could be without having to take care of you.
Rhys was allowed out of the mountain, he'd felt the breeze in his hair but you hadn't in fifty long years. You stood there a moment, bathing in the warmth as everyone left, as everyone ran off for their families and courts and the war that was inevitable. Eventually, Rhys offered you his arm. 'Shall we go home?'
He winnowed you there, on the balcony of your home. In a cloud of black smoke, the two of you appeared.
He went first, slipping through the doors slowly- like it could all be taken from them any minute.
You were hesitant, taking a moment to glance at the landscape behind you. It hadn't changed, not at all. The mountains were still there, everyone was still alive. Your home. In the last years it hadn't felt like home, but how could anywhere ever feel so close in your heart.
When you could find your feat again, you managed to slip through the doors. You were suddenly aware of how little clothing you were wearing, just enough to cover your chest and run down your legs. A chill settled down your back, your scars would be on show. What a way to great them all after fifty years.
Mor had her arms around Rhys's shoulders, crying into his shoulder.
Behind them you caught Amren, with something like tears in her eyes. You were just about to tease her before a body barrelled into yours in a blur of red syphons and your feet were lifted from the ground.
'Cassian.'
His arms tightened around you. You shoulder started to dampen with tears, his tears. The last time you'd seen him cry around you was when he'd seen a dog with only three legs. 'I'm keeping you on a leash from now on, stupid idiot.'
Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile gracing your lips. 'Is that a promise?'
He held you longer, tighter, not daring to let you go but at least settling you on the ground. He sighed against your head, controlling himself. 'He's missed you, you know,' he said. He was the only one you'd told, about your mate. 'Now that you're back, tell him. He deserves to know.'
Cassian slowly pulled away, holding you at arms length and smiling at you. He kissed your cheeks and then your forehead before parting to Rhysand.
Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.
'Ow!'
'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.
You blinked at her before she took you by the arm she'd slapped and embraced you, like a sister would. You dared not looking over her shoulder to find the one who hadn't come to you. Maybe Cass had got it wrong...
Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.
Azriel was as beautiful as the day you left him. His hair was the same length, he was the same height. He was just as you left him. It was hard to tell fifty years had passed on him.
And inside of you, tugging in your soul and heart you felt the familiar string of gold throbbing. But you still didn't feel that tug. You'd hoped it would have faded from you after half a year separated. Or at least have snapped for him. But no such relief.
He approached you, slowly. As if he was scared of scaring you away. But you just stood there.
His arms were delicate and soft around you as he brought you into his chest. He still smelled the same, cedar wood and shadows. Shadows that wrapped around you, shielding you from the rest of the room. They caressed you, head to two.
You held onto each other for what could have been another fifty years, but this time, it wasn't so painful.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Although nobody wanted to part after yours and Rhysand's return, you were exhausted. A trip to Rita's could wait another night or two. The only thing you wanted to do was hide in your room.
Strangely, your room looked lived in. As if somebody had moved in since you'd left. A moment of anger replaced grief. Had they brought someone else and given them your room? but then you smelt it, Az.
Lying in bed that night, exhausted, you couldn't find sleep. You closed your eyes and pictured Amarantha. You'd never been afraid of her, you weren't afraid of anything. But you re-played the horrors. Watching servants beat Feyre, watching Amarantha use your brother and on the occasion, even you. How she flaunted. How the most powerful lords were weak.
Under your door, shadows seeped in, rushing across the room to you. You smiled, watching your hand disappear in their darkness.
'Azriel?' you called.
There was shifting on the other side of the door before he slipped in, clicking it shut behind him.
You sat up in bed, shadows moving with you. 'Couldn't sleep?'
He wondered in, looking around your room. 'Sleeping's been... hard.'
You rolled over, opening the blanket and nodding your head. You couldn't think about the bond, not yet. Not while he looked so.... ruined. Beautiful- the most beautiful person in the world, but sad. As he climbed in next to you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and his wings too.
His eyes scanned over you. You were in a thin and silk night dress that only brushed your knees, but the way he looked at you, mother you could've been naked. 'Fifty years,' his voice sounded barley controlled. 'Fifty years. You followed your brother down for fifty years? Why would you do that?'
You gulp. 'I would've done it for any of you. Except maybe Amren, she'd probably enjoy the peace for fifty years.'
You go to brush your hair back but Azriel seizes your wrist. He was angry. That's why his voice was rough and his chest rising and falling with barley controlled emotions. Could he feel it? your nerves, your lying?
'You left. You should've stayed, y/n, you know Rhysand didn't want you under there with him,' he said. 'For fifty years I haven't been able to sleep through a night thinking about the pain you must have been going through. After I swore to keep you safe, after I promised to catch you every time!'
'You couldn't have stopped me. You didn't promise, Az.'
His grip grew tighter. 'It went without saying.'
You looked around his eyes, seeing the pain and grief there also. Slowly, you brought your other hand up. He flinched as you took his cheek but eventually settled as your thumb ran over his cheekbone. 'I won't leave again, ok? I promise.'
He gulped, letting go of your wrist and looking down. 'I slept here,' he mumbled, but just loud enough to hear you. 'I couldn't sleep in my room. This was the only place I could rest.'
Your heart stuttered. Your hand dropped from his cheek. This man was your mate. Your mate. Your only love, whether or not the cauldron deemed it.
Azriel took your hesitation. 'I-i'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that. I've probably ruined your one place of peace-'
'Stay,' you said, before you could think of what you were asking. 'Sleeping wasn't exactly easy under the mountain either. I just trust I won't have to put a wall of cushions between us.' as if you wanted that. As if you haven't thought about his calloused hands all over you.
Azriel smiled and stayed the night.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The third time he almost lost you, broke him...
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
#acotar#azriel#cassian#rhysand#rhys acotar#feyre archeron#tamlin#lucien vanserra#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x female!reader#cassian x reader#books and reading#booktok#angst#azriel x cassian x reader
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acotar men + twitter nsfw links.
“uh-huh, come play with my pussy!”
pairing: acotar men x f!reader
summary: visual links of how the acotar men fuck 😉
warnings: nsfw, porn links, squirting, handjobs, blowjobs, rough sex, teasing, spitting, slapping, public sex, messy makeout session
amara’s note: yum and if you can’t see the links, remove safe search on web reader then go back to twitter
azriel
when everyone’s out
spitting before eating you out
backshots pov
breeding aftermath
head game goes crazy!
put it in and let’s watch tv!
fingering turns you into a squirting mess
jerking off inside
hungry!
rhysand
can i suck your tits while you ride?
squirting all over his cock while he fucks you
rubbing your clit every morning
slow strokes hit so deep!
arching just the way he likes it
i’ll stroke you if you finger me, deal?
can’t keep my hands off your cock, sorry
take it off, i want it raw
cassian
i miss you, let’s facetime later
sloppy, sloppy makeout session
drooling for a taste
size difference? yes!
let’s make a movie but you gotta be quiet!
you said you were stressed? let me take care of you
creampie compilation
giddy up cowgirl!
throat grab
eris
gotta tease before entering
couch fun
be my personal fucktoy
think you can take it all?
post argument sex
i really, really wanna suck you off
69 double pleasure
deepthroat training
lucien
cumming on his cock
the size difference is crazy
he fucks roughly when he’s mad
no one loves titty fucking more than him
slow handjobs is the quickest way to get bent
lucien found your toy and uses it on you
facial
late night quickie
#talkswithamara#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#azriel#acotar x reader#acotar imagine#rhysand#eris vanserra#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x yn#azriel fic#azriel imagine#azriel fanfic#rhysand acotar#rhys#rhysand x reader#rhys x reader#rhys acotar#cassian fanfic#cassian a court of thorns and roses#eris vanserra acotar#eris vanserra fic#eris vanserra x reader#cassian x reader#lucien vanserra x reader#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#cassian#lucien vanserra#high lord rhysand
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the ebb and flow of fate part 4
(part one) (part two) (part three) (part five) (epilogue)
Cazriel x f!Reader
Summary: She felt a tug, a thread like current weaving between the three of them, and shoved deep, deep down.
Warnings: injuries, nightmares, angst, a bit of fluff, depression, throwing up, drinking
Word Count: 5.6k
A/N: I’m back ish! It felt so good to write again, this was close to finished before & I can’t promise when the next part will be out but I’m crossing my fingers for soon, I’m guessing there’ll be about 1-2 more
Cassian’s mad for several reasons. The main one being - she risked her life for him. Put herself in danger for him. He’s mad at himself as well for being … well, a complete asshole to her. But, right now it was easier to hold on to his anger than process any other kinds of emotions. Even if it’s not fair to her.
He gazed over at the sleeping form, brows furrowed, curled up tightly on her side.
His fault.
It's his fault she’s in that pain, in that state.
Assigning blame won’t help.
Won’t help a damn person.
The door creaked open, Mor popping her head in.
“Any change?” She asked, not bothering to look at him.
Another side-effect of the fucked up situation. His longtime friend, her sister, was pissed at him. Pissed at both him and Azriel, for reasons she wouldn’t disclose. Fuck, she only spoke to him when absolutley necessary - or to ask after y/n.
“No,” his voice was curt, tone sharp. Mor finally looked at him, her eyes narrowed as she took another step in, leaving the door open behind her.
“You can leave.”
“I just got here,” he leaned back further in his chair, crossing his arms, looking away from her burning stare.
“And you obviously don’t want to be,” the blonde snapped.
“When did I say that?”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I want to be here,” he said through gritted teeth. Mor let out a noise of disbelief, and he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. With Azriel, they’d agreed not to announce their bond without speaking to her first. Whether or not the others figured it out, was up to them.
“I do.” He insisted, still feeling Mor’s glare on him. The female left without another word, the door quietly closing behind her.
Cassian stood, dragging his chair behind him towards the edge of the bed. Everything about this was confusing. Frustrating beyond belief.
The door creaked again, and he opened his mouth to tell Mor to leave him the hell alone, but the scent of night mist and cedar hit him, and his mouth snapped shut. Azriel closed the door behind him, but didn’t move from it, leaning against the frame and observing them from afar. He tilted his head back, neck resting on the top of the chair as he looked at the ceiling. At this point, he knew every small swirl and indent of it.
His attention snapped back in front of him as a small groan sounded, finding y/n’s eyes heavily blinking, darting between him and Azriel.
“Another nightmare,” she muttered, and closed her eyes again. He couldn’t fight the small snort that left him. Apparently that’s what they were to her; a nightmare. It didn’t sit right with him, but he didn’t do anything to try and fix it. She could easily brush off anything he said as a delusion or hallucination. To him, there’s no point in fixing anything now, not with what Madja told them.
‘I cannot guarantee how much she will remember - if anything.’
Maybe that could play in his favor, confess everything he wanted to - and brush it off as one of her hallucinations later on. He shook his head, throwing the idea out of it. That was cruel, and he hated himself for considering it.
“Not a nightmare,” Az finally spoke. He knew she was still awake, but chose to ignore him.
-
Morning dew coating the moss soaked through her clothing, drenching her back and legs. Her eyes are fixed above her, on the clouds warping in and out of different shapes. She can’t move, can’t block out the images, can’t escape the thoughts circling inside of her mind. Cruel words whispered in voices so familiar, but just out of reach.
Even the clouds seem to be her enemy, forming arrows launching across the sky. Could they be considered clouds? As far as she knows, clouds don’t move like that.
Not real. Not real. Not real. She chants in her mind. Regardless, right now this is her reality. There’s a vague awareness behind her, that this will end at some point. All things considered, this one is rather tame compared to the others.
-
Thrown into her room, she cowers in the corner, wrapping her arms around her legs and tucking them in tight. Maybe if she makes herself small, they won’t notice. He won’t notice. They’ll finally leave her alone.
Heavy footsteps pound across the room as she squeezes her eyes shut, if she can’t see it - it’s not real. It won’t happen. Cruel hands tighten around her arms, another slapping against her mouth to muffle her screams -
“Wake up,” a voice says. Wake up from where? The males hands brand into her, his body looming over her -
“Wake up,” the same voice repeats.
An invisible hand tightens around her shoulder, shaking it back and forth. She glances down, but the hand isn’t there. Only the one tightening around her upper arm, the grip bruising.
“Wake up, y/n.”
Her screams are still muffled, her back slammed against the wood.
Gentle fingers run across her forehead, “please,”
Nausea whirls as she’s flung back into her body, an arm steadies her as she launches forward, clutching a hand over her mouth.
A bowl is placed in front of her, and she empties the contents of her stomach into it. Minutes pass, and she’s still heaving, her body pale and shaking.
“Get it all out,” the same voice says. One she can recognize now. A voice she loathes, mostly for the comfort it’s bringing her now, even the real hand that's rubbing her back.
As soon as she’s done, the bowl and its contents disappear, and she shoved the hand away, shuffling as quickly as she could to the other side of the bed, ignoring the pain shooting up her arms and legs, and tumbled out, barely catching herself on the other side of the wall.
“Gods-damned it,” someone cursed, and she felt their presence moving in the room, at her side before she could make it to the bathroom on her own.
“Go away,” she mumbled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“And let you fall on your ass?” Cassian muttered. That’s who the voice was.
“Yes,” she manages to say, even though each breath hurts. She groans again as his arm wraps under her knees, the other behind her back. In her mind, she can pretend she’s protesting and fighting him on it, but in reality she doesn’t have the energy to.
He deposits her in front of the sink, and hovers a few steps away like an unwelcome shadow.
“Fuck off.”
“A little gratitude wouldn’t hurt.”
“Why should I be grateful to you? You don’t have to be here,” her hands grip the edge of the sink as she glares at him through the mirror, doing her best not to focus looking at herself.
“Yes, I do,” he leaned against the doorframe nonchalantly, but she knew he’s observing every movement of hers, looking for any sign of weakness.
Letting out a large sigh, she cups her hands under the water to rinse her mouth out. A small toothbrush and toothpaste appear next to her, and she thanks the house for it. At least he doesn’t call out how her hands shake with each movement, taking a few tries to actually get the toothpaste on the brush.
A few minutes later, and she feels marginally better, some of her strength returning.
Y/n slapped his hand away as she made her way out of the bathroom, but couldn’t stop him from hovering behind her. His shadow covers hers, engulfing her completely as she makes her way back to the bed. The bed. Her damned prison now.
“You’re too stubborn for your own good,” he commented after she settled back in.
“And you know what’s good for me now?
“Quit putting words in my mouth,” his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, “I swear if you weren’t injured i’d -”
“You’d what?” Hazel eyes glared at her for the interruption. “Go on.”
“No.”
“Exactly,” she forces a grin, “you’d do nothing.”
His head tilts back, as if he’s praying to the mother for patience. Maybe if she annoyed him enough he’ll leave her alone.
-
She was finally in a state of somewhat lucidity, and all he’s getting is her attitude. At least her real feelings hadn’t changed much. Yesterday was a whirlwind.
“I think I love you both,” she sighed as Azriel ran a cloth over her forehead. He froze, his entire body going still. It was one of the times they both were in the room.
Azriel, to his credit, didn’t stop his motions.
“Sometimes,” she continued, “even if you’ve been assholes.”
She went on to reference something he knew hadn’t happened, and Cassian tried to think of ways he could forget those words. I love you.
It didn’t work, her soft and gentle voice had replayed in his mind the rest of the night. Void of the venom she usually spoke to them with.
-
“I thought we were mates at one point, but mates can’t hurt each other.” Y/n had convinced herself this was a hallucination, and didn’t feel any remorse for saying what’s been on her mind. Dream Cassian and Azriel had frozen and she let out a soft laugh. “It’s alright. This isn’t real. I’d never tell you otherwise.”
They exchanged a look, and she was impressed with how well her subconscious could mirror their real motions.
“At first, I wanted everything to blow over or to try and fix it. But now, it’s easier to be angry at both of you,” she turned on her side, propping herself up on one arm, face scrunching. Pain. She pushed past it. “I don’t know if I'll ever not be angry, but I heard that hate sex is enjoyable. Not that you’d ever touch me again.”
Cassian choked, and Azriel had gone still, shadows whirling around his shoulders.
“That’s not true,” Az’s quiet and cool voice said.
“That’s how I know this isn’t real” she let her eyes close again, “and thank the mother for that. I’d be mortified.”
-
“Anything,” she begged with tears streaming down her face. “Please.”
Anything to take some of the pain away. Azriel let himself hold her, let himself wrap an arm around her shoulders, lean her shaking body into him.
“I can’t,” he whispered.
“Why?” Her tear filled face gazed up at him, eyes full of betrayal, “why do you keep hurting me?”
“I’m sorry,” his thumb brushed away some of the tears, a gesture too intimate, but he couldn’t stop himself.
She turned her head away, “if you really were sorry, you’d help me.”
Her breaths evened out, sleep taking over her body again. Azriel wished it would mean she wasn’t in pain anymore, but the nightmares seemed to get worse as the week went on. Sometimes, she’d be frozen in place, body stiff and eyes darting rapidly behind her lids. Others, she’d thrash in the sheets so violently his shadows would intervene of their own accord, holding her in place enough for him to try and wake her.
-
“I’m so tired,” she told Mor. “I want it to be over.”
“It’ll pass with time.”
“I want everything to be over.”
Mor’s heart clenched. “Just give it time,” she pleaded, even knowing her sister wasn’t in her right mind. That this wasn’t how she really felt.
“It’s been years,” she whispered.
“It’s been a week,” Mor brushed away the strands of hair clinging to her sweaty forehead. “It’ll get better.”
“Everyone says that.”
“It’s true, Madja said so.”
“If Madja said so,” her hand covered her yawn.
“Get some sleep.”
Her head shook rapidly, even as her eyes grew heavy, lids closing. “It’s worse in my sleep. I’m alone.”
-
“You can try using your magic soon.”
Azriel watched as her eyes lit up, a small spark coming back - as if Madja’s words had somehow breathed life into her. For some reason, he’d insisted on being present as much as possible when the healer visited. If he couldn’t be there physically, his shadows would.
“Now?” The words were barely above a whisper.
“We should wait for your cousin.” Her head dropped, the small spark extinguished. “In case anything happens,” Madja added, even though she didn’t need to. Y/n would understand why. If anything got out of control, Rhys would be the best option to contain her magic.
“Step out with me for a minute,” Madja murmured to him as she crossed the doorway. A few shadows lingered behind to keep an eye on her as he followed the healer out.
The healer studied him with a startling intensity. A few decades ago, he may have been tempted to squirm under her gaze, but now it didn’t affect him. He’s used to being looked at like that - to being scrutinized with everything he does. Still, her gaze lacked the usual distrust present in others. Trust. That’s what he’d built with the healer the last two weeks - regarding his mate, at least. His mind had just become used to calling her that. There wasn’t any other word to describe it, really, even if she chose to ignore the bond once it snapped. That’s another thought he’d become used to - the very real possibility that might happen. He didn’t know if it would be him or her who would. But, he couldn’t stand the thought of her accepting it with Cassian, and not him. They hadn’t discussed that possibility either. Maybe neither of them wanted to speak the chance into existence.
“It may snap as soon as she has full access, it may not.”
She’s only repeating things he already knows.
“I’m aware,” he told her.
Her eyes narrowed at him.
“It may … undo some of the progress made. Her mental state is fragile.” He didn’t bother telling her he’s aware of that either, he’d witnessed it himself - either directly or indirectly, he always had eyes on her. Knew every word she’d spoken over the last two weeks.
Madja was hesitating to say something, so he prompted, “what else should I be aware of?”
“That’s all for now.” She was hiding something from him. In most cases, he’d figure it out in time. Azriel normally prided himself on his patience, but he’s found when it comes to y/n’s … health, he has little of it.
“What is it?” He fought to keep his voice cool and steady.
“I’m still looking into long term effects, although I don’t anticipate many.” Many. Meaning there still will be some. “Keep it between us,” she warned him.
His brows flicked up slightly at that, but he assured her he would, before slipping back through the door.
“It’s you again,” she huffed as he entered.
That’s how he knew she was lucid. The attitude and disdain.
“Thought you’d be happy, getting your magic back.”
“If it actually happens.”
Something pricked the back of his neck. “What does that mean?”
“You think I haven’t been trying?”
Azriel pushed down his anger. Most of it. “I don’t need to tell you how stupid that is, do I?”
“You lose your magic for a few weeks, tell me what you think.”
He’d experienced it temporarily, through ash arrows, but never to this extent. Still, sharp and perhaps distasteful words left him, “I think you’re being reckless.”
She blinked a few times, a type of haze coming over her eyes. “What if I never get it back?” Just above a whisper, like earlier, but this time filled with dread.
“Then you adapt,” Azriel said, much gentler. There was a very slim possibility of that happening, but he wouldn’t deny it completely to her. That’s what he’d always brought her, honesty, and he wouldn’t change it now.
“It’s like … missing a limb.”
There weren’t any words of comfort he could provide, instead he crossed the room and tugged her to his side. At first, she froze against him, but he ran his fingers through her hair, and slowly she melted, letting herself relax against him. Something he didn’t feel he deserved.
-
She didn’t lose her magic, and thank the gods because that would’ve snapped the last strand of her sanity. Sanity she felt like she was barely hanging on to at this point.
Although reality was distorted, some things were clear to her. Cassian and Azriel had been there the most, but she didn’t know whether or not that was by their choice. She didn’t want to know.
A month later, one particular nightmare hadn’t gone away.
She was in a town square. Not Velaris, but Autumn. Where her ex-friend lived.
“I told you I wouldn’t let anything come between us,” a haunting voice whispered, and their wings … her scream was guttural as two pairs of wings dropped, echoing on the stone.
Her hand covered her mouth, trying to muffle the remnants of the scream, before remembering the shield she’d put up for this reason.
She had to know they were alright, that they were alive. Logically, she knew it was just a nightmare, but couldn’t stay in this room any longer. She fled from the room like it was on fire, bare feet stumbling against the carpet, arms shoving the door open in front of her.
Two familiar scents and heartbeats in Azriel’s room. Relief flooded through her. It would be too much to barge into there, but at least she knew they were alive now. She retreated down the hall, instead bracing her arms on a window sill, taking in the full moon casting light over Velaris.
Her teeth dug into her bottom lip as she heard the door open, two pairs of almost silent footsteps approaching behind her. In the reflection, their eyes met. Both of them looked vaguely concerned.
“Just … needed to check you’re alright,” she offered an explanation. Not that she needed to, but it’s better than letting their imaginations run wild.
“Nightmare?” Cassian’s voice was soft and gentle. She hated his tone, hated that it comforted her. Words didn’t want to work, so she nodded.
Azriel didn’t speak, but held a hand out to her. Slowly, she turned back around, pinching her arm to make sure this was real. His eyes tracked her movement, flashing slightly in recognition but his body remained still and she placed her hand in his, his warm and calloused hand closing over hers.
Heart pounding and threatening to burst out of her chest, her rapid breaths warmed the air before her as they crossed the threshold. He pulled her towards his bed, pulling the covers back and gently pushing between her shoulder blades. Cassian climbed in on the other side. Said male wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her into his chest. Azriel’s body fell into place behind hers, as if this was the most natural position for the three of them. She felt a tug, a thread like current weaving between the three of them, and shoved deep, deep down. Like fate was trying to weave the three of them together, to mend and straighten something warped and misaligned by time and stupid decisions. An ache spreading through her chest, mind working overtime to try and figure out what the hell that meant.
“Relax, princess,” Cassian cut off her spiral, his large hand cupping the back of her head, guiding her to rest right where she could hear his heartbeat. Normally, the nickname was teasing - designed to get a reaction out of her, but now it felt gentle, a term of endearment.
A sense of calm overtook her, and her heart quit trying to explode, slowing to match his. Azriel ran soothing circles with his thumb, right above her hip bone. Her eyes shuttered closed and she fell asleep between the two warm bodies.
-
It had been a split second decision, and as Azriel watched them sleep, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Sleep was almost foreign to him, but watching them sleep peacefully, feeling her soft body pressed against his, was almost enough. Maybe he should feel jealous of how she melted into Cassian with a few words, her taut and tense body unwinding, but content filled that space instead.
They heard her stumbling down the hall. She hadn’t left the room for nightmares since … before. The footsteps paused for a moment before his door, before retreating. That’s when he knew it had been about them, whatever had happened in her sleep. They didn’t need to communicate with each other before leaving the room to track her down.
His only intention was to check on her, just to see she’s alright. Still, even as her hand reached out for him he meant to bring her back to her room, to close the door and leave, but as soon as her skin met his, he headed in the opposite direction.
Cassian hadn’t questioned him, hadn’t acted as if anything was out of the ordinary. The threads winding them together practically took on a life of its own as it sang with joy at having her this close, at having her safe between them. Where she belongs. He cleared the thought from his mind. Only if she wants to be there. Did she feel it too?
He wasn’t naive enough to think the nightmares would disappear because of their presence, and sure enough her body stiffened. Cass noticed and his sleepy eyes blinked open, meeting him with concern, almost asking; do we wake her?
I don’t know, he replied honestly.
Small whimpers left her. Not the sweet kind of her reacting to their touch, whimpers of pain. Cassian’s hand reached out, running his thumb back and forth over her cheek. Like he was some kind of instant drug, her body relaxed again.
Do we wake her? He looked at him again. Azriel shook his head, and laid down on the pillow, this time tugging an arm around her waist and bringing her closer to him.
Cassian’s mouth curved at the corner in amusement, but he ignored him and placed a kiss to her hair, taking pleasure in how she snuggled further into the pillows, one hand covering his own - holding it there.
-
She woke to warm sheets that weren’t her own, her back pressed against a warm body, another caging her front in. Opening her eyes might end this dream, might ruin whatever moment this is. Her nails dug into her palm, a small hint of pain running through. Real, this was real. She wiggled, trying to dislodge the arm slung tightly over her stomach.
“Stop,” Azriel’s said, his voice hoarse and sleepy. If that’s how he sounds in the morning, maybe she should try to sneak in here more often. But, she didn’t listen, and shifted her hips again. Something hard brushed against her backside. Fuck. The arm tightened around her, one leg crossing to pin hers in place.
“I said, stop.”
This time, she listened. Warm breath brushed against her neck, a sigh of relief.
Warm rays of sun peeked through the curtains, casting a glow on the bed. They rarely slept past sunrise. Actually, they never did, as far as she knew.
“I’m surprised you’re still here,” she murmured quietly, not wanting to wake Cassian.
“I didn’t want to leave.”
“Don’t you have work to do?” Her pulse fluttered.
“Are you trying to kick me out of my own room?”��
She shook her head rapidly, and he let out a low chuckle, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough to hear you snore.”
“I do not.”
“You do,” Cassian’s sleepy voice said this time.
“Rude.”
Azriel’s leg released hers, his arm loosening enough to give her some room to make space between them. Reluctantly, she did so. Her eyes trailed to the clock. One hour until she needed to be at the library.
Limbs heavy, she sat up, pushing the sheets down to climb out of the bed. Cassian’s hand reached towards hers, before stopping, falling back to his side.
“Thank you,” she said, voice just above a whisper, and climbed off, pausing at the doorway, messy hair flipping over her shoulder. They looked at her, some expression she couldn’t read, and left. Neither followed her or said a word, she wished they would. Maybe she’s relying too much on them to make any kind of move. Still, it’s normal for friends to cuddle … right?
Ever since she’d fallen … ill, they’d changed. They acted almost like they had before, with an extra tension, and it was giving her whiplash. Nothing had been cleared, despite the ‘olive branch’ they’d offered, there wasn’t any discussion of the past. Instead, it seemed like they were avoiding the topic at all costs, despite her hinting towards it. Their temporary peace couldn’t last forever, nothing good did.
Since that night she ran into the hall, she hadn’t sought them out again. Mainly from fear they would reject her. Turn their backs on her. She wondered if they wished she would. Maybe she could test that theory, if she finally grew the courage to do so.
As always, they found a way to piss her off. Acting like they had a right to her, going as far as to scowl at any males that tried to approach her on their nights out. Any time she went out with her sister, they found reasons to be there, and she got into with Cassian one morning.
“We’re not together, quit acting like it.”
Hurt flashed through his eyes, gone as quick as it came. “Fine,” he’d replied, and left like a fire was lit under his ass.
She found herself regretting the words, but she felt an inexplicable need to build a wall between them. That she was getting too close to them. Making it too easy for them to rip her heart out again. She tugged down the top of her shirt, fingers grazing over the tattoo on her collarbone. They hadn’t released her from the bargain, although they easily could’ve. Was it from care? Or for something to hold over her head?
-
She watched in slow motion as a female pressed up on her toes, and planted a kiss right on Cassian’s mouth, her hands balancing on his shoulders.
“Push her away,” she pleaded to the universe. Instead, his eyes stayed open, finding hers as he wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer to him. She’d brought it upon herself, she supposed. “We’re not together, quit acting like it.”
If he wanted to play that game, she could too, and a fire lit under her.
His eyes flashed; your move, he seemed to say.
Watch me. She answered.
“Can you help me out with something?” She whispered to a female friend of hers.
Her eyes lit up, “I’m all ears.”
-
As soon as y/n had turned away, he gently turned down the female who’d kissed him, and felt a bit guilty as she scoffed and stormed away. Not guilty enough to do anything about it. His entire body had recoiled against it, screaming to him that it’s wrong.
But, she’s the one who clearly stated they’re not together.
He grabbed his drink, tilting his head back to let the liquid burn down his throat.
“It’s good to see her getting out there,” Rhys commented wryly. Cassian snapped his head to him.
“What?”
“Y/n,” he said too innocently.
He turned slowly and watched as she danced with a female friend of hers, hips slowly grinding against each other, arms twining around each other's necks. Then, their lips met. He didn’t think she’d actually take his subtle challenge.
Rhys clapped a hand on his shoulder. Cassian couldn’t force himself to move, if she wanted her fun - she could have it. He could play this game, even as it tore into him.
Apparently, Azriel couldn’t. The shadowsinger intercepted the two of them, tugging her away from the other female's embrace. Right, he hadn’t found the time to inform him of their … discussion, this morning.
A smirk crossed her friend's face. She’d done this on purpose, he already suspected, but now he had his confirmation.
Small fists beat against Azriel’s back as he stormed out, y/n thrown over his shoulder, her friend laughing in the background.
“Why are you waiting?”
He scowled at Rhys’s voice in his mind, but slid a gold mark on the counter, more than covering his tab, before following them out the door. Cassian had a strong feeling Rhys knew of the bond, even if he kept his mouth shut.
Azriel had paused in front of the building, waiting for him. As he approached, y/n was still spewing curses at him, her face slowly turning red. One of Azriel’s arms was wrapped securely around her thighs, holding her in place. There’s no way for her to escape his hold, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t trying. There’s a small shield around his wings, keeping her from using that to her advantage.
Azriel shot him a look, and he picked up his pace.
“Quit it,” he muttered to the female, his hand lightly slapped her ass. The surprise was enough to still her for a moment, letting Azriel snatch his arm and winnow the three of them to the townhouse.
-
Azriel finally let her down, and she glanced around them, noticing he’d taken them directly to his room.
“What the fuck was that?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he countered too mildly.
Oh, he was pissed. She shot a look at Cassian, she’d expected he would relay their conversation, but maybe she shouldn’t have counted on him for that. Azriel followed her gaze.
“And you, apparently,” the next statement was directed at Cassian. The other male looked completely unapologetic, crossing his arms and shrugging his shoulders.
“She made it crystal clear we’re not together.”
“Really?” Azriel tilted his head, fixing that searing gaze back on her as he closed the gap between them.
Against her will, her heart raced as he gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“We’ve never been together,” she managed to say. “You don’t have a claim to me.”
His mouth indented at the corner, but it wasn’t a smirk of amusement - more like barely concealed irritation and anger. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
“Excuse me?” She tried to wrangle her chin from his grasp, but he only tightened his grip. Instead, she looked to Cassian. A slight shake of his head, and she redirected her attention to Az.
“I won’t repeat myself.”
“Then explain.”
“If you can’t figure it out yourself, I can’t help you.” His hand dropped, and she missed the touch on her skin.
-
“How do you expect me to understand if you don’t tell me?” Y/n exploded, fists clenching at her side. He knew he shouldn’t have dragged her out of there, but he couldn’t stand to watch her there, in another's arms. Holding her how he should be.
Still, Azriel had waited so patiently for her to figure it out herself, he could wait a little longer. Apparently Cassian couldn’t.
“You’re our mate.”
The temperature in the room plummeted. Not literally, but shivers ran down her spine, goosebumps covering her arms. Her eyes darted rapidly between the two of them, forming some kind of conclusion.
He counted each second. Forty-seven, before she spoke. Less than a minute.
“Do you expect me to forget everything? To fall to my knees for you now?” She spit
He pressed his lips into a tight line, and prayed Cassian wouldn’t rise to the bait. He needs to stop praying and hoping where that male is concerned.
“I’d never turn down a chance to see you on your knees, princess.”
Azriel groaned.
“You’ll never see it.”
“Want to bet-” he caught the look Azriel pinned him with, and shut his mouth mid sentence. Y/n looked too pleased at the turn of events, but he couldn’t take that away from her now - not without making a bigger mess to clean up. She stormed from the room, letting the door slam shut behind her.
Fuck patience, fuck letting fate run it’s course, the truth is in the air now. He’s sick of waiting.
Azriel flung the door open, taking off after her, Cassian on his heels.
She tried to slam the door to her room on them, and he wedged his foot in between, forcing it wide open.
“Leave me alone,” she snarled.
“So you can block us out?” Cassian countered, shouldering past him to cross the threshold.
“You deserve it,” his heart thumped in his chest as she switched her gaze to him. “You both do.”
“What the hell did we do?” Cassian took another step towards her, forcing her to back up.
-
“I thought you were smarter than that,” she flung his words back in his face. She saw the hurt cross his face, looking vaguely like a kicked puppy. A small sliver of guilt filled her, but a vindictive anger overtook that - good, she wanted him to feel how they made her feel. Even if it was cruel, karma deserved to be thrown back in their faces. The bond may have snapped in her at that moment, but it took less than a minute for her to come to a conclusion. Like hell she’d lay down and make it easy for them, or for herself. It means nothing if she doesn’t accept it. That was a lie, she knew it, but if she repeated it enough to herself maybe she’d believe it.
They shattered her before, and she had to build herself back together. The temporary peace they’d hovered in was never going to last.
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The Bet
Author’s Note: I had a long day at work and wanted to write something happy :)) I hope you like it!
Summary: Who will be able to get Azriel to laugh first?
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Warnings: none, let me know if I need to add any :)
“What’s so funny?” You mumbled as you crossed your arms.
You had asked Cassian and Rhys about the shadowsinger’s sense of humor. The pair had just given each other a look and howled with laughter.
“Az?? A sense of humor??” Cass choked out through his laughter.
“That’s a good one Y/N!” Rhys said, giving you a pat on the shoulder.
“Will you guys be serious!” You scolded the two males.
“Az doesn’t laugh at jokes.” Rhysand told you.
“Orrr maybe you two just aren’t funny?” You said with a smirk.
“What? And you think you’re so funny?” Rhys questioned.
“Definitely funnier than you two.” You told them.
“That is the most hurtful thing anyone has ever said to me.” Cassian stated, putting his hand on his chest.
“How about a bet?” Rhys smirked.
Cassian clapped his hands, always up for a challenge. A large grin grew on your face, already feeling confident even though you didn’t know the bet.
“We all get one shot to get Azriel to laugh. Whoever wins gets free drinks for a night at Rita’s.” Your High Lord told you and Cassian.
“I’m in!” Cass exclaimed.
“Oh you two are so going down.” You told them.
---
Azriel had been sitting at the table eating breakfast when Cass walked in. You and Rhys were discreetly watching from another room, looking to see if he could crack Az.
“Hey Az-” Cassian spoke before tripping over a chair and falling dramatically, hitting his head on the way down.
“You ok?” Az spoke and then took another bite without getting up from his spot.
“Are you serious?” Cass grumbled then got up and walked out. The spymaster didn’t even flinch.
“That was your master plan??” You asked him once he made it to you and Rhys.
“I thought he would laugh at my pain! He seems like he would find it funny!” Cass defended his choice.
You and Rhys began to shake with laughter.
“Don't worry, I thought it was funny.” Rhys told him with a smug look on his face.
Cass gave him a look and walked away grumbling.
---
Azriel, Cassian, Rhys, and you were all training together and it was Rhys’ turn to get Az to laugh. Cass threw a weak punch at him which missed horribly.
“Ha! What was that! That was worse than Y/N on a good day!!” Rhys stated, poking fun at both you and Cass.
A scowl grew on Azriel’s face, his brows furrowed watching his friend. You and Cass both stood there, equally offended.
“Why would you be rude to Y/N? She has done nothing to you and she’s a great fighter.” Az spoke.
Rhys’ eyebrows shot up, realizing that was the wrong route to take to get him to break. A smirk grew on your face when you realized they both blew their chances and you were the most likely to win.
“Hey! Why did you stick up for her and not me?” Cass complained.
“Because that punch was awful. He should have compared you to a child with no training, not Y/N, who could easily beat you in a fight.” He told his brother.
A giggle left your lips and Az gave you a nod and a smile.
---
“Alright lets see what you got.” Rhys told you.
Azriel was sitting in the library, reading a book when you approached him.
“Hey Az! Whatcha reading?” You asked.
“A book on some rare magic.” He told you in a gentle tone, looking up at you with soft eyes.
“That sounds interesting! I’m actually reading a book on anti-gravity, and it’s impossible to put down!” You told him with emphasis on the pun.
He watched you for a moment, a smile growing on his face. Then you heard the most beautiful sound, Azriel’s laughter. You felt pride well up inside you.
“That’s a good one, very funny.” He told you and you gave him one of your big smiles.
After a little bit more conversation, you left and went over to where Rhys and Cass had been watching.
“A pun?! Really?” Cass said, disbelief evident in his voice.
Rhys stayed quiet while his brother continued to complain.
“That’s how it's done boys. Looks like I’ll be having a fun, free night out at Rita’s!” You spoke and went back into the library to sit with Az.
“How did a pun out of all things-” Cass started but Rhys elbowed him in the ribs to shut him up.
“Look at him. It wasn’t the pun... it’s her.” He spoke.
The two of them watched as you sat next to Azriel, asking if you could join him and read your book by him. He looked at you with nothing but pure adoration as he nodded his head yes.
“He’s clearly in love with her.” Rhys added.
The two of them watched as Az turned his head back to his book and you looked at him with just as much love and affection.
“That’s cheating! We need a new bet.” Cass whined.
Rhys just shook his head at him. He didn’t care that he lost the bet, he was just happy to see his brother finally love someone who loved him right back.
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ACOTAR Masterlist
Azriel X Reader
Oneshots
Hot Under the Collar: A mandatory visit to the Illyrian war-camp takes a turn for the worst when three hot-headed males decide they want to send their High Lord a message.
Headcanons/Drabbles
Azriel and Puzzles
Azriel with an S/O who has rough hands like him
Azriel As A New Father
Kinktober Day 3: Bondage
Kinktober Day 8: Chasing
Azriel X Reader X Cassian
Oneshots
A Brothers Mate: You knew there was more between Azriel and Cassian, despite others' opinions of the two. You were okay with that, their relationship, but seeing your mate's happy without you was killing you.
Cassian X Reader
Oneshots
Kinktober Day 7: Somnophillia
#acotar azriel#acomaf#acowar#acotar#acosf#a court of thorns and roses#acotar masterlist#azriel#azriel x reader x cassian#cassian#rhysand#acotar aesthetic#azriel x female!reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#cassian x reader#rhysand x reader#rhys x reader
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Cassian: *sneezes*
Azriel: ......
Cassian: *sneezes*
Azriel: ......
Cassian: Are you really not going to say bless you?
Azriel: Y/N is sitting here with us. You've clearly been blessed
Y/N: *blushes*
Cassian: *looks at rhys* Did he just use my allergies to flirt with your sister?
Rhysand: This fucker need to be studied
#acotar incorrect quotes#incorrect acotar quotes#azriel acotar#cassian acotar#rhysand acotar#a court of thorns and roses#azriel x reader#azriel x you#incorrect quotes
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now my head's splitting at the seams
✴︎ in the labyrinth of my pain, would you find me?
✴︎ Azriel x Valkyrie reader, platonic Cassian x reader
✴︎ Summary: you miss a few days of training, down with a bad migraine. It turns out Cassian has a few misconceptions about your condition and, possibly, about pain itself.
✴︎ Warnings: mentions of nausea and vomiting (no descriptions), pain, toxic positivity and ableism, internalized ableism, Cassian's a jerk in the first half. Also I'm so sorry for the tense changing back and forth 💀 I would definitely not call this one a masterpiece
✴︎ Word Count: 3.4k
AO3 Link / Writing Masterlist
✴︎ Notes: somehow writing out my feelings about having a migraine turned into something pretentious about pain and ableism. I think a lot about John Green's "pain is the opposite of language" and how much that's changed my perception of pain
Also listen I love Cassian and I have no problems with him but I had to pick someone to take my feelings out on I'm sorry 💛 also just want to acknowledge that everyone experiences migraines differently and it's not a topic I'm an expert on so I'm sorry if you don't feel well represented by this.
Tbh I could write several essays about the way pain and disability are handled in the acotar books but that's for another time.
Letting out a frustrated groan, you squeeze your eyes shut tighter and twist your knuckle into the pressure point at the base of your palm, chasing the momentary relief it'll give you from your nausea. It works for a minute, and you're considering making your way to the bathroom before another wave hits you when your bedroom door flies open.
"You're late," Cassian's voice bellows through the room and he doesn't see you wince. He strides into the room, footsteps booming across the floorboards, and he's left the door open behind him, letting a traitorous amount of light into your dark room. What good were black out curtains if your darkness was going to be invaded like this anyways?
"Oh my gods you've got to talk quieter," You curl tighter around yourself, head clutched in your hands.
"So you're hungover?" He stops near your bed, arms crossed as he towers over you.
"No, I have a migraine."
"Isn't that the same thing?"
You squint up at him, scowling, swallowing every bad word threatening to spill off your tongue. Though maybe he deserves it for coming into your room without asking.
"Please leave," You say quietly, all the venom you could usually imbue into your voice completely swallowed by your current condition.
"You've missed three days of training." He says by way of answering, definitely not following your request to lower his volume. "You can't coddle yourself like this."
His words punch the air from your lungs. Coddle? Something terrible is rising in your gut, along with the desperate thought that you can't deal with this right now.
"I'm not - this isn't - I don't think you understand how much it hurts." You scramble for words, cheeks heated from pain and anger.
"You've gotta push through it," He says, no hint of sympathy.
"Cassian please."
"I'm not leaving until you agree to come with me."
You don't have time to respond before you're running to the bathroom and throwing up whatever you'd managed to keep down last night, head throbbing with every movement.
Breathing hard, you lean back from the toilet and clutch your head in your hands. The silence rings in your ears and you aren't sure if Cassian is still there or if he finally took mercy on you and left, until his voice makes it's way to you, with just a hint of remorse in it -
"I'd better see you up there."
⋆✴︎˚。⋆
Cassian did not see you at training that morning, and you're assuming you've bruised his ego because the next day he doubles down.
The thing is, Rhysand knew of your condition. The other priestesses knew. It's only Cassian being out of the loop and if he understood what a migraine felt like, you're certain he wouldn't be dragging you up there. You were used to dealing with people who didn't understand, had worked hard to learn how to give yourself kindness no matter what other people said. But it's like he knew exactly what things to say, what buttons to press to undo all of that progress.
It was like he'd pulled off your armor, piece by piece, leaving you cold and exposed. Going back to that world where weakness was your given name and it hurt worse than stepping into the ring and fighting the pain. If you could prove him wrong, just make it through a couple of hours, you could return to your sanctuary of darkness. And at least then, you wouldn't hate yourself on top of everything else.
So you followed him up to the training ring, struggling to open your eyes all the way in the morning light, hunched over to make the pain down your shoulders and neck just a bit more bearable. You sway on your feet, but Cassian either doesn't notice or doesn't care.
When he moves aside, revealing your small, huddled frame trailing beside him, Gwyn gasps.
"Cassian!" She cries, her tone scathing, and the hint of smug triumph slips from his face. It disappears completely as Gwyn rushes to your side, folding you into her arms to block your eyes from the light. You groan into her shoulder and go limp in her arms, grateful for the support.
Azriel stands to the side, watching with narrowed eyes. His arms are crossed over his chest like Cassian's, but there is no determination or judgment in his posture or expression. There's angry, crackling flames as he watches the redheaded Valkyrie thread her fingers through your hair and murmur soft comfort.
"She missed training all this week," Cassian says, but he's not barking any more. He's feeling a little bit small underneath the glares that pin him where he stands.
"Yeah, we know," Gwyn says, and it's the closest she's gotten to snapping at him in the whole time they've known each other. She turns to you and her eyes soften. "Let's get you back to bed, love."
"No," You murmur, guilt and shame bringing your resolve to the surface once more. You gently push her away to stand on your own, raising your squinted eyes to meet Cassian's. "I can do it. I'll be fine."
She watches you take shaky steps to the nearest mat and begin stretching, body obviously stiff from a few days in bed. You're conscious of all the eyes on you, far too sympathetic for your liking. This is exactly what you hated.
"Are we starting or not?" You let out a stiff laugh, too aware that your words are lightly slurred. That is absolutely not helping the hangover accusations.
The other priestesses shuffle to get into place, bumping into each other as they move to find their positions. There was still a horrible silence, crackling with fierce anger, all rippling in Cassian's direction. He halfheartedly called a few orders, visibly uncomfortable with the energy in the ring.
And you tried. You tried hard. To move your body through the stretches like normal. But your muscles protested every move, threatening to lock back up, sending stabs of pain through your skull. It didn't take long for the nausea to take over, forcing you to the edge of the ring, doubled over and dry heaving.
"This is ridiculous," Gwyn scoffs before she's at your side again. "You're going to back to bed."
"I will not be weak," You growl at her, panting as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "I am not lazy."
Gwyn's head snaps around to find Cassian, mouth dropped open in fury as she silently dares him to confirm that he may have suggested weakness to you.
"You're not and you know it," She says softly, hauling you up and leading you away from the training ring. “Don't do that to yourself.”
Cassian is feeling like he's surrounded by wolves, all the glares that are being sent his way. He understands by now that he's messed up, and in front of a group that may not be easily inclined to forgive him. He's sure every single one of them has experienced the disbelief that he foolishly shoved your way. For their pain, or for anything else.
He thought you would snap back to your normal self after a bit of warming up, shake off your symptoms with a bit of movement and sunshine. You were strong enough to, if you wanted to. He'd seen it before. He thought you just didn't want to.
A small, firm hand lands on his arm and he finds himself looking down at Nesta. There's sympathy in her expression, but her eyes twinkle with the threat of a nasty bite if he dares to say anything stupid.
"She gets them after particularly bad flashbacks," Nesta says, "Or sometimes they're just random. Madja says there's no fix for the pain but darkness and sleep."
Cassian's stomach twists so terribly he thinks he might puke, too. In the midst of attempting to instill resilience, he's understanding that he knows nothing of this kind of pain. This is something different, something that cannot be conquered in the same way as emotional pain, as every day aches and injuries. You are a soldier in a battle he has no strategy for.
He may understand the concept of emotional resilience, of getting back up and into the training ring when you don't want to. But this is different.
The final blow, the thing that makes him want to cower and hide, is meeting his brother's eyes. Seeing the fire there transports him back in time, sending flashes of a smaller Azriel pushing himself too hard, determined to show the world that he'd never be less because of the damage to his hands. Fighting against words far too similar to the ones his own brother had spouted to you this morning, desperate to become strong enough that no one would ever doubt his pain and live.
⋆✴︎˚。⋆
It was not a surprise that Cassian found himself in Rhysand's office later, confessing how thoroughly he'd fucked up, desperate for a little direction in how to fix this mess.
"It has to be their choice," Rhysand is saying, eyes meeting Cassian's over his glass.
Cassian's mouth opens and closes as he tries to conjure a response. He knows that. Of course he knows that. But apparently, his brain had not wrapped around how far that concept might go.
Cassian let out a grunt as he sat back in his chair, arms crossed. Rhysand knew he didn't have to push any further, he recognized the conflict in his brother's eyes. So he sat with him, quiet, while he processed.
"Do you want to know what it feels like?" He broke the since after a while, as the idea came to him.
"What?" Cassian blinked, startled from his thoughts.
"A migraine," Rhys explained, "Do you want to know what it feels like?"
Cassian frowned, studying his brother's expression for anything resembling amusement, but there was none. So he nods.
Not even a full second later, his skull is attacked with throbbing pain, deep in the base of his neck. He hadn't even noticed the fae lights before, but now they overwhelm him, causing a dull pain to surface behind his eyes. Nausea curled up his throat, threatening ruthlessly.
"Oh gods," He leaned forward and clutched his head in his hands, finding that his limbs trembled under his own weight.
"Do you push yourself when you feel like this?" Rhysand asked softly, not taunting. Prompting.
"I don't really ever feel like this," Cassian grumbled out.
"Hm," Rhysand mused, his brows drawing together. He'd experienced episodes like these often, under the mountain. He knew that Azriel struggled with them through his teenage years, like his brain still struggled to process his senses outside of a dark cell.
Deep in thought, he only remembered to ease up on Cassian's mind when his brother whimpered.
"Some say pain cannot truly be described with language," Rhys says, gaze somewhere else as Cassian gulps down air. "And that your pain is one of the few things that is truly yours, that you can never share. Even if you manage to describe it, it will never be felt by anyone else."
"I thought she was just hungover," Cassian says, but he's not defending himself. Rhysand knows.
"What if she was, though?" He tilts his head to the side, watching his brother carefully.
And that is the thing that had begun to unfurl within Cassian as he stood surrounded by the priestesses he'd wronged. He understood that having true control of your body meant that dictating how pain is handled had to be yours, too. He understood that pushing someone to deal with pain in his own way was a violation in and of itself. He had stepped into the world that you had carefully balanced and re-built around your condition and dared to tell you that you may have done it wrong.
"Will she get better?" He asks, thinking of the agony he'd just experienced for a few short minutes. The same one that you'd been experiencing for three days, now.
"It's hard to say," Rhysand shrugs, "Madja says she will likely experience these off and on for the rest of her life, but she may have some periods of remission."
He tilts his head at his brother again, "You know that a majority of the priestesses have an invisible disability of similar kinds, right? They won't get better. They will be in pain every day until they die."
Rhysand sighs, thinking of the hundreds - possibly thousands - of tins of salve that Azriel has gone through, numbing the pain of his nerve damage. Trembling hands hidden in black gloves, tucked into his body and away from the world. And that is the reason he's bothering telling Cassian of any of this. Otherwise, he might let him figure it out on his own.
"But the healers-" Cassian begins.
"Are there to help them cope with their emotional pain and trauma," Rhysand nods, "But some of them, a lot of them, were disabled as a result of what they went through and will never get better. Like Clotho.”
Oh.
It clicks in Cassian's mind, then. Who else Rhys meant. Who else Cassian had insulted. He had never barged into Azriel's room, insisting that he still train even when he could not flex his fingers without wincing, without trembling too hard to hold a glass of water. But he'd done it to you, in front of him. And that pinned his disbelief on Azriel all the same.
Azriel's pain, your pain, were enemies that neither of you could defeat. And here he was, shoving a sword into your hands, and insisting that you try.
⋆✴︎˚。⋆
A soft knock sounds against your door, so quiet you almost don't hear it. You stare at it, wondering if you should pretend that you didn't. But then the knob turns slowly and it opens just a crack, and a soft voice is saying into the darkness,
"Hey, it's Azriel. Can I come in?"
Your breath catches in your throat, and you watch his shadows dancing back and forth through the thin wedge of light he's letting in.
"Sure," You say, moving quickly to smooth your rumpled clothes and tangled hair before he steps in. You're not exactly sure what he thinks of you after this morning.
He steps inside and closes the door behind him. His eyes seem to glow in the darkness, an amber-honey color, and somehow you can still see his shadows, like they're even darker than your room with no light.
"I just wanted to check on you," He says, crouching down beside your bed so you don't have to sit up.
"I'm okay," You say, still getting over the surprise of the Shadowsinger in your space. It's true, though, you suppose. You're used to all of your other symptoms by now, and your heart hurts worse than your head.
"He's an idiot sometimes," Azriel says, basically spits. A smile begins to spread on your face so he continues, “Like, sometimes he's just an asshole, straight up. But this time, believe it or not, I think he actually meant well and was just an idiot.”
“I know,” You give him a sad smile and all of the anger melts from his face.
“I think he went to buy flowers if that makes you feel any better,” He sighs. You know he's just as mad at Cassian as you are, maybe even more mad. But he still can't help vouching for him. It's definitely going to take more than flowers to forgive him, but it's a good start. You also appreciate that Azriel has bothered to warn you ahead of time, in case you wanted to avoid Cassian's apology.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, so quietly. And you wonder who else has earned this tenderness from him.
“It's not too bad right now,” you say truthfully, though you know that sitting up or going outside might be pushing your luck.
“Still hurts?”
“Yeah. Still hurts.”
He nods. “I can try something that helps me, sometimes.”
You search his eyes for a moment, then nod.
“Can I touch your face?” He asks, almost a whisper.
Your heart leaps into your throat and you fight to keep your face neutral as you nod again, no idea what he's planning to do with you.
Slowly, leaving enough time for you to stop him, he reaches out. He's not wearing gloves, like usual, and in the dark you can just barely make out the uneven silhouette of his dimpled, scarred hands.
His fingers land gently on your forehead, and he presses his thumb between your brows. Gently at first, and then harder, circling a tender point under your skin. It makes the pain in your head sharper, and you let out a hiss.
“I know,” He says, “Bear with me a minute.”
You close your eyes, biting back a whimper, but after a moment the pain begins to ease. He keeps going for a few minutes and you feel your whole body relax, pain free for the first time in days.
You don't realize how much you've leaned into his touch until he gently pulls away and you find your head falling forward with him.
“What is that?” You open your eyes and blink at him.
“A pressure point,” He grins, and it almost looks like he's blushing.
“That's magical,” you say. You hesitate for a moment, and then, “you can sit on the bed if you want.”
Azriel smiles and straightens, and you move your pillow to the side to make space for him. He slides off his boots and sits on the bed next to you, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. You place your pillow next to his lap and settle back into it.
“Thank you,” You say, your body feeling lighter than it has in days.
“Of course,” he says.
A silence settles, but it's not uncomfortable. There's something in it that you understand. He's just keeping you company. Here to sit with you in your pain.
It's easy to relax in his presence, between his calm aura and the pain relief he's offered you. And you find yourself spilling the question that's been circling though your mind since this morning.
“What if I can't fight, someday? What if I can't be a Valkyrie anymore?”
Azriel stills beside you. It's a long moment before he says anything. You're tense beside him, and it makes you flinch when he brings his hand so gently to rest on your head. Not moving, just resting.
“First,” He says, in the same soft voice, “You'll always be a Valkyrie. Because you cut the ribbon. Because you sisters will never let you go. And because I know for a fact that the Valkyries did not strip their warriors of their title if they became disabled by an illness or an injury.”
“Really?” You breathe.
“Mhm,” He hums in affirmation. You forget sometimes that he knows the Valkyries from more than history books.
“And second,” His voice drops lower, like he's sharing a secret with you. His hand moves, fingers slipping gingerly through your hair. And it makes you realize that he came here with his hands uncovered as an offer of solidarity. Combing his scarred fingers through your hair, he is offering you vulnerability, like recompense for what you bared this morning. A trade. A truce.
“If you cannot fight,” He continues, “Then you will show the world that a formidable woman can be made from more than fighting skills. You will still be - will always be - something incredible.”
Tears prickle at your eyes, form a lump in your throat. You reach up to grasp his hand, the only thank you that you can manage in the moment, and he lets you.
There's another silence, as he holds your hand in the dark.
“Who helps you?” You ask, turning to look up at him. He watches your eyebrows knit together, so serious, and he swallows a smile.
“What do you mean?” He says.
You bring one finger up to tap the space between his own eyebrows.
“With your pain? Who helps you like you helped me?”
“Um,” He shrugs, “Sometimes Rhys if he has time. Otherwise, no one.”
That's what you thought, but it still makes your heart twist in your chest. It takes a deep breath before you have the courage to say the next words out loud.
“You should tell me next time you're in pain. And I'll help.”
Azriel stares back at you, something bewildered in his eyes. Because he sees your suggestion for what it is. The same thing he offered you. A trade. A truce.
A beginning.
“Yes,” He whispers into the dark, and his hand closes around yours. “I will.”
#relieving someone else's pain is strangely intimate???#idk what this is honestly#acotar#acotar fic#acotar fanfic#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#azriel x reader#cassian x reader#platonic cassian x reader#Rhysand#Azriel#cassian#madja acotar#Gwyneth berdara#nesta archeron#disabled reader#chronic pain#hurt/comfort
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Insufficient | Azriel x Reader
Summary: After a few months of dating, your relationship begins to crack, and the truth behind Azriel’s odd behavior comes out.
Word Count: ~ 1.8k
Warnings: ANGST, so much angst, sort of unrequited feelings, breakup, mentions of sex + torture and murder, Nesta being an absolute queen
A/N: enjoy some delicious azzy angst😋 lmk what you think I should do for the next part, like should they get back together, or reader finds a new mans while az grovels??
Requests are open!
Masterlist | Next
It had been a warm, sunny day when you’d first met him.
The bakery had been going steadily as ever in Velaris, your family-owned shop hard at work to make the citizen's pastries and your famous sourdough bread. Generations of the family had owned it beforehand, and you were still helping out, you had been working the front that day.
Azriel had walked in, asking for some sort of treat that his High Lady was craving. His description of it hadn’t been the best, leading to almost thirty minutes of you showing him different sweet treats and pastries until he finally found what he wanted, and ordered a dozen of them.
That had been the beginning of your situationship, where he’d come to the shop asking for various things once every now and then, only to subtly get closer to you and even slightly flirt.
Eventually, he asked you out to dinner, and after a few more, you two began dating, and he admitted that he felt a little spark when he first saw you. Looking back, you wondered if that was the only reason he even pursued you in the first place, not for your personality, or even your looks, but just because of that spark.
The first few weeks had been lovely, him being thoughtful and caring to you in the little acts. Such as the way he made coffee for you just how you liked it in the mornings, how he began to put things lower on shelves so you could reach them, how he would talk quietly when you had migraines, or be patient when you were in a mood. The best example probably being the first time you had your period in front of him.
He hadn’t acted disgusted by it, instead, he’d gently cared for you, helping you through it, buying you chocolate and all the foods and snacks you were craving, getting heating pads, making sure you were alright for the entire insufferable week.
However, after that, the honeymoon period must’ve worn off, because he seemed constantly tense or stressed after that. His face remained like stone, not budging or cracking, even for you. The softening of his eyes that had happened before it was replaced by something strained as if he was waiting impatiently for something.
Even in bed, he wouldn’t look at you, remained quiet as a mouse, the only sign that he was enjoying himself being a large exhale as he buried his face in your neck or turned away. That was another problem, he knew how to fuck, he knew how to do that very well, but he didn’t know how to make love. Any time you tried to teach him, he just didn’t accept it, simply giving an unsatisfactory hum in response and continuing what he was doing.
He’d come home from missions, drenched in sweat and sometimes even blood, and not say anything even when you cleaned him off and led him to bed, giving you a cold shoulder. You fully understood that he had a bloody past and history, but you at least expected him to open up a little bit to you. Without any emotional transparency, it wasn’t really a relationship, was it?
His family was nice, though. You liked them, especially Nesta, since she seemed not to put up with everyone else’s bullshit. She was the only one you opened up to about your issues with Azriel, and how you were thinking of breaking things off or taking a break.
“He’s a hard one, but it sounds like he’s being an ass. If it were me, I wouldn’t put up with that.”
She said while you both sat in the library, neither of you noticing the small shadows lurking near the books. You sighed, nodding slowly.
“I know, it’s just…I feel like he’s waiting for something else, like just me isn’t enough.”
You said with a frown, and Nesta gave a little hum of acknowledgment.
“Just give it a week or two, and if you’re still unhappy, I’d leave.”
She said with a shrug, and not long after the both of you went your separate ways. You followed Nesta’s advice, giving the relationship a week or two, and it remained stressed and tense. However, when you finally managed to get into Azriel’s office during the day, about to break things off, he spoke first.
“Let me guess, your testing weeks weren’t satisfactory?”
He asked in a sharp tone, eyes narrowed on you with a piercing gaze. You took a sharp breath in, glaring at him despite the embarrassment that tried to take over.
“You were spying on me.”
You said, trying to keep your tone even despite how it wavered slightly. He stood then, towering over you from his superior height.
“I don’t like when people talk about me behind my back, let alone my partner.”
He said, the words clipped and full of anger simmering under the surface. He took a step closer, and you took a step back. You’d never been afraid of him, not really, but at this moment you didn’t exactly want to be close to him. His keen eyes noticed, and something like hurt and anger flashed in them.
“Don’t act like I’m some terrible person for having a girl talk because you’ve been acting weird. I can’t believe you spied on me.”
He huffed, taking another step closer, the shadows swirling and writhing, looking more agitated than ever. You took another step back, only to run straight into a wall that was now behind you. He continued stalking closer until your heart was beating faster and faster until he leaned down so you were eye-to-eye.
“I’m sorry I’m not what you signed up for. I’m not gentle or loving, I am a spymaster, I torture and kill people for my work, and have for centuries. I won’t be forced to change just to fit what you think I should be, or what you want in a relationship.”
He hissed, his words now full of anger and frustration. You leaned back, trying to keep away.
“That’s your problem. You don���t know how to separate your work life from your personal life, and you’re taking it out on me. You can be gentle and loving, I’ve seen it before, but I’m not what you want. You’ve been acting like I need to be something more for you when I’m not. I don’t know what you want, but your inability to communicate and be transparent isn’t my problem.”
You said back, tears now welling up as you tried to push him away. He didn’t back up, only moving closer and pushing you into the wall. His temper was building, and you could tell. It was only a matter of time until he would….
“A mate! I wanted a mate!”
Snap.
The silence stretched on and on for what seemed like hours after he said that, yelling it in your face. You’d never heard him raise his voice before. You gaped at the sight of him unwinding and shattering right in front of you as he rambled on.
“It’s not fair, Rhys gets Feyre, Cassian gets Nesta, Lucien gets Elain even if she doesn’t want him, and who do I get? No one.”
He said in an almost panicked tone, rambling on and on. He pushed off the wall, pacing around in his office, hands fidgeting.
“I thought—when I felt that spark when I went in your shop, that it might be you, but you weren’t enough. You aren’t my mate, because it would’ve snapped by now, I would’ve felt it, but I didn’t. You aren’t enough for me, and you never will be.”
He said, finally sighing at the end. He wouldn’t even look at you, eyes unfocused and only looking randomly around the room, anywhere but towards you. You swallowed, trying to hold back the tears that welled up because of his words. You weren’t enough. You never would be.
He looked like he felt a bit bad for half a second before his expression hardened again into that unflinching steel you’d grown to hate. He finally looked at you again, no hint of empathy or guilt now in his gaze for leading you on, or practically torturing you these past months.
Taking a shaky breath, you finally choked words out.
“Oh,” You murmured, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.
“Okay.”
You whispered, managing to push off the wall to walk to the door, opening it and walking down the hall, to the room you two had shared, and you began packing your belongings. Picture frames of your family, your clothes, little trinkets, toiletries, you left no trace of you behind as you packed it in a large duffel bag in the closet.
You walked to the front door of the House, open the door, and walk out, the 10,000 steps down looming in front of you. Azriel didn’t offer to fly you down, and it was only when you turned to look back at him, his face stone cold, that you felt it.
The snap.
A shifting warmth and coldness all at once.
And a mating bond.
His face fell in what looked like pure devastation and realization, hazel eyes wide and lips parted. It might’ve been the most emotion you’d seen him show in weeks. He began to walk out, trying to go after you as you began taking the steps, but a large flap and wave of wind stopped him.
Cassian’s large, hulking form stopped him, shaking his head grimly as he walked towards you, where you were still going down the steps, and he laid a hand on your shoulder.
“I’ll fly you.”
He said simply, and you nodded with a sniffle as he picked you up, his wings carried him into the air as he soared up, only to land moments later and drop you off back at the bakery where your family was working. He set you on the ground, pulling you into a warm hug.
“I’m sorry,”
He said, letting you pull away, and for some reason, you believed him. You, Cassian, and Nesta made quite the dynamic trio, and you would probably miss them the most. They were some of your closest friends, and also wonderful drinking buddies. You and Nesta loved cheating in card games and beating Cassian when he was too drunk to notice until he owed either of you a fortune.
“You can always come visit me and Nes, just send a letter or somethin’.”
He murmured to you, wiping the tears from your cheek, and giving you an apologetic grin, before sending you off inside your family’s bakery and flying off.
This time, when you saw the shadow still curled around your wrist like it always had been when you and Azriel were dating, you smacked it off, sticking your hand right into a clear ray of sunshine to chase it off.
You were done being dragged down by shadows and darkness, and for once in your miserable life, you were going to look for the light instead.
#acotar fanfiction#writers on tumblr#acotar fandom#acotar x reader#acotar fluff#azriel#azriel acotar#azriel x reader#azriel angst#angst#acotar angst#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#a court of silver flames#nesta supremacy#nesta archeron#nesta x cassian#nessian
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wings
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader
Word Count: 3.1K
Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff
Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.
Wings Universe - More from this world.
"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice filled with excitement, drawing not only your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms, but also the rooms. She sat opposite you, a slight mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward.
You were all nestled in one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind.
Under the flickering faelight, you sat beside Azriel– your mate. His large presence ever the comfort, as he enveloped you in his arms. His fingers, tracing intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation through your body.
If it weren't for the loudness of your friends and family, their remarks not failing to echo through the room, Azriel’s touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber.
"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly confused expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch of his hand settling on the small of your back.
"My experience was quite a shock," Cassian added with a grin.
“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” Rhys grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.
Amren, rolled her eyes at her family's theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry.
Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.
The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful wings.
𓇢𓆸
Mor, Feyre and Nesta.
It was one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world; she’d been dying for a night off. Craving the simple joys of the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her desperation for a night to let loose, you, Mor, and Nesta had taken it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls night out for your High Lady.
The night quickly unfolded into a flurry of laughter and dancing. Drinks were spilled, songs were sung. Rita’s being your chosen sanctuary for the night. You all let yourselves get lost in the music and infectious energy of the bar. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours quickly slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass.
It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.
A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.
The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.
"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."
“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.
You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.
They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.
"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.
Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.
𓇢𓆸
Cassian.
Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too.
On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.
Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.
"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.
Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.
The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"
You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.
"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.
"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.
“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.
Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.
"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.
"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.
Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.
"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.
"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.
Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.
You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.
With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.
Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.
Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.
𓇢𓆸
Rhys and Nyx.
“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.
You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.
Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.
Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.
Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.
Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.
You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.
As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.
His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.
"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.
Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger.
"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.
"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.
𓇢𓆸
Azriel.
“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.
You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.
You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.
But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.
As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.
You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.
"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.
Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.
"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you.
“That’s it my love, that’s it…”
Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.
Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms.
"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were.
Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.
"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.
But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.
"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."
Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.
"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."
Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.
𓇢𓆸
As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.
"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.
"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."
You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.
"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.
You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"
"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.
Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.
"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.
"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.
"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.
"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.
Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.
You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.
"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.
Your please for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, my love,” he chuckled, his voice laced with mirth. “But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing.”
Your friends playful assault only continued, your giggles filling the room. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate, pink membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.
They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. They resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them.
“There she is…” Azriel murmered under his breath. A fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He could feel the pride filling his chest as he watched you, gazing at your beautiful wings in all their ethereal glory.
But it wasn’t just your mate gazing at your with love.
No, your family found themselves grinning ear to ear, looking at you with admiration as they watched you glow.
A glow they were forever grateful for.
a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3
Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x
#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#acotar azriel#acotar fanfiction#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#feyre cursebreaker#feyre archeron#rhys acotar#cassian#nesta acosf#mor acotar#amren acotar#nyx archeron#acotar series#inner circle
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