#cassian come home
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hight0wers · 1 year ago
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DMIRMA = damn man i really miss andor
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alexandra-cabots · 11 days ago
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the way they gaze at each other, each with fear in their eyes, as the realization dawns, that, death is coming for them, and that they're the last two people in the entire galaxy to look at each other.
when they realize that they're not alone anymore
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twinsunstars · 2 months ago
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CASSIAN PILOTING CASSIAN PILOTING
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dilf-din · 3 months ago
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Thinkign about…..the fucking characters again
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separatist-apologist · 8 months ago
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i meeaaaann if they like to lure men into their trap 👀 that could be 🔥😩🔥
I'm feeling very nessian about this if we're being honest
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gracie-rosee · 2 years ago
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I just think Elain should make a dragon friend. She befriends all the scary creatures.
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pepsicoughdrops · 1 year ago
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what do you do if the guy you had a weird gay thing with is reunited with his wife and she looks almost exactly like you. you can’t kill yourself btw
(click for better quality)
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rebel-ezra · 6 months ago
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oh my god andor s2 confirmed & with a release date FINALLY 🙏🙏 getting my man back yall
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ilovettrpgs · 1 year ago
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Rogue One makes me sick to my stomach actually
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luv-lock · 14 days ago
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ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤHER ANGELㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱
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☆⁠ PAIRING : Genderbend au – Cassian Cain x Fem Reader
☆⁠ HEADCANON : How Would He Be When He's Obsessed?
☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
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It starts with stillness.
You didn’t notice him at first—because he didn’t want to be noticed. Cassian doesn’t speak, doesn’t make a sound. But he watches.
You were kind. Not loud. Not a threat. That’s what first made him pause. People are noise to him, always broadcasting their intent with every heartbeat and twitch. But you? You didn’t broadcast danger. You didn’t make yourself bigger. You were quiet in a way that didn’t mean violence.
So, he lingered.
He’s not supposed to get attached.
Batman said so. Oracle said so. They all said so. Cassian nods when they speak, but he doesn’t follow unless it feels right in his bones.
And you feel right.
He starts following you when he’s off patrol. Silently. No footsteps. He memorizes your routine like it’s a mission. When you laugh, he flinches. When you cry, his hands clench. He doesn’t understand either, but he feels it. He doesn’t know if it’s protectiveness or something else. But it burns.
He watches more than he should.
Through windows. Across rooftops. In your shadow like he belongs there. You never feel unsafe—because he never lets you. Any time danger comes close, it’s gone before you even notice. A man following you home? He disappears. A mugger across the street? Out cold in the alley.
You start to joke with your friends. “It’s like I’ve got a guardian angel.”
Cassian hears that. He feels that. His heart does something strange and awful and warm.
He starts leaving things for you. A lost scarf. A fixed bike chain. A cup of tea from your favorite shop on a cold morning. He watches your eyes light up. You smile. You whisper, “Thank you.”
He mouths it back, even though you can’t see him.
“...Welcome.”
He doesn’t know what to call it.
He doesn’t understand what this is. But every move you make is written on your body, and he reads it like scripture. You’re beautiful, but not in the way people usually mean. You’re good. You’re real. You walk like someone who carries her own pain and doesn’t let it harden her.
Cassian is soft around you in a way he’s never been. He wants to be near. Wants to be allowed to be near. He doesn’t know how to ask.
So he stares.
You catch him one day. Rooftop. Rain. His black suit blending into the night like he’s part of it. But he doesn’t leave. He lets you see him. For the first time. You stare at each other for a long time. You don’t run. You don’t scream. You step forward.
And Cassian... he doesn’t move. He doesn’t breathe. You speak—soft, confused, kind.
“Are you the one watching me?”
He nods. Once. Like a silent prayer.
You should be scared. But you aren’t.
After that, he’s around more.
Not close. Not yet. But close enough that you could talk if you wanted. And you do. You start talking to him, even when he doesn’t answer. You tell him about your day. About your cat. Your classes. Your fears. Your hopes. He listens like it’s sacred.
And slowly... very slowly... he starts to answer. With signs. With the barest movements. A tilt of the head. A hand lifted in answer. One night, he writes something in the dust on your windowsill.
“SAFE?”
You nod.
He taps his chest. Then yours. Then nods.
“Safe.”
Cassian doesn’t sleep. Not really.
But when he does, he dreams of you. Not in a twisted way. Not violent. Just with you. Holding your hand. Sitting beside you. He dreams about what it might be like to speak—to tell you what you mean.
He wants to be close, but he doesn’t understand how. You smell sweet. Like flowers. But he’s scared he’ll ruin that. That the same hands that kill could never touch you without staining you.
He loves you. But he doesn’t know that’s what it is. It feels like need. Like obsession. But tender. Careful.
He’s learning.
Eventually, he touches your hand.
It takes months. Maybe a year. But one day, after you patch up a cut on his arm in silence, he just... touches your hand. Light. Hesitant. And you don’t pull away.
You say, “I missed you.”
He doesn’t say anything. But his eyes are glassy. His lip trembles.
He doesn’t talk. But if he could, he’d scream I miss you even when I’m right here. I want to be near you forever. I want to be your shadow. I want to be enough for you to love me back.
Instead, he leans his forehead against your shoulder.
And you hold him.
Cassian is obsessed.
Not in a way that hurts you. In a way that worships. In a way that learns. He doesn’t know what a boyfriend is. What a partner is. What love is. But he learns for you. Slowly. Clumsily. Lovingly.
Because even though he’s been trained to kill, to move in silence, to never ask for anything—he wants you.
And when you kiss his forehead for the first time?
He cries.
Silent. Still.
But he cries.
It begins, as always, in silence.
He is on your balcony again—half in shadow, half soaked in moonlight. The wind plays with the hem of his black cloak, but his body is still. That same tilt of the head when he watches you like you’re the only thing in the world that makes sense.
You never flinch anymore.
You don’t look surprised.
You open the window like it’s the most normal thing in the world and smile.
“Hey, angel,” you whisper.
And God—if he had a heart that worked like anyone else’s, it might stop.
He doesn’t understand why you call him that.
He doesn’t look like an angel. He’s bloodied most nights. His knuckles are bruised, dried cuts line his jaw. His hands, no matter how much he washes them, remember violence. Remember pain.
But when you say it—“angel”—your eyes go soft. Your smile goes tender.
“Mine,” you sometimes say, brushing back a strand of his hair. “My shadow. My angel.”
And he leans into your touch like it’s air, like it’s light, like it’s grace.
He still doesn’t talk. You’ve stopped expecting him to. You’ve learned his silence has weight, has texture. It’s how he tells you things.
Sometimes, he brings gifts. Not flowers or chocolates—he wouldn’t even know where to buy them. No, he brings you buttons. Trinkets. A ribbon from someone who bothered you. A feather from a rare bird. A kitten once, curled in his coat, half-dead. You cried when you held it. He just stared at you the whole time.
The kitten sleeps in your bed now. You named her Moon.
You whispered, “She’s like you. Quiet. Soft when she wants to be. But deadly.”
Cassian tilted his head. Then nodded.
He doesn’t know what school is.
You were talking once—rambling about your day while cleaning his cuts, your voice low and casual.
“Class was boring today,” you said, wiping at the gash on his shoulder. “Professor wouldn't stop talking about stupid wars—like, who cares how Napoleon died?”
You expected the usual blank silence.
Instead, he looked at you. Blinked.
Then lifted one hand. Tilted it side to side. Question.
“What?” you asked, laughing. “You don’t know who Napoleon is?”
He tilted his head again. Shrugged.
“Wait… Do you know what school is?”
Nothing. No reaction.
You stopped everything. Looked him in the eyes. “…do you know how to read?”
He looked down. Then slowly, pulled something from his belt. A folded, dirty slip of paper. It had a single word written in his jagged, childlike handwriting.
SAFE.
Your chest ached. You looked at him and saw not a vigilante, not a ghost in the night, not even a weapon.
You saw a boy.
Someone who’d never been given a childhood.
Someone who knew how to kill but not how to write his name.
You touched his hand, gentle. Like always.
“Do you want me to teach you?”
He blinked. Then nodded. Not once. Not sharp.
Slow. Like the word mattered. Like you mattered.
You start with his palm.
You don’t use pens or paper at first. No pressure. No rules. Just touch.
You trace letters into his skin with your fingertip. His hand twitches every time. He’s not used to gentleness lasting this long.
“This is A,” you whisper, dragging your finger down, then across. “Now B…”
He watches your lips when you speak. Like they hold truth.
Like he can taste knowledge just by watching you.
You guide his hand next. Hold his finger. Drag it across your open palm to form shaky letters.
He frowns when he messes up. You kiss his brow and say, “It’s okay. Try again.”
You’ve never seen him so focused. Not even in a fight.
You make flashcards next.
Simple words. Safe. Home. Name. Yours. Mine.
He stares at “Mine” for a long time.
He taps it. Then points at himself. Then at you. Then signs you with the softest hand against his heart.
Your breath catches.
He mouths something. It’s silent. You can’t hear it. But you know.
Mine.
You don’t correct him.
Your balcony becomes a classroom.
Every night, you sit with your legs crossed, flashcards in hand, and he crouches next to you like a child soaking up your light. You tell him stories—your childhood, your friends, what your teachers are like, how you used to be scared of the dark until now.
“Not anymore,” you murmur, glancing at him. “Because now I have you.”
He doesn’t smile. But he closes his eyes like your words are warmth.
One night, you wake up and find something under your pillow. A folded paper. On it, in shaky writing:
“You = Safe”
“Me = Angel”
“Mine”
You keep it in your diary.
You still haven’t kissed him. You don’t touch him unless he touches you first. You don’t ask him to stay, but you never ask him to leave. He’s not your boyfriend. He wouldn’t understand the word. But you’ve never felt more seen.
He’s learning. And every time he writes something new, he brings it to you like a child bringing a drawing to their favorite person in the world. And every time, you say the same thing:
“Perfect.”
Because to you, he is.
Cassian doesn’t understand the world.
But he understands you.
And that’s all he’s ever needed.
To watch you, to learn you, to protect you like something sacred.
He may never say it aloud.
But every step he takes, every breath he draws near you, every clumsy letter he writes in your palm—
Whispers it.
I am yours.
It happens slowly. Like dusk bleeding into night.
No lightning moment. No dramatic turning point.
Just quiet devotion blooming into something deeper.
Cassian is still silent. Still follows you in the shadows like your personal moon. Still crouches on your balcony, waiting for a look, a touch, a word from you to exist again.
But something’s shifted. You feel it.
Maybe it’s in the way he lingers longer now. Or how he watches your lips not just to learn—but to memorize. Maybe it’s in the way he holds onto every scrap of paper you write on, like holy relics, like prayers.
He started sleeping curled up by your window once. You found him there at 3AM, arm wrapped around the kitten. Shirt torn. Blood dried on his cheek.
You ran to him. He didn’t flinch.
He opened his eyes—and smiled.
Just barely. Just for you.
He starts practicing. Alone.
You don’t know this. He never tells you. But when you sleep, he stays near your fire escape. He stares at the flashcards you gave him, mouthing the letters, the words, again and again. His lips shape your name in the dark—like a secret prayer, like the answer to every question he’s never asked.
You = Safe.
You = Light.
You = Home.
One day, you catch him trying to write a sentence.
You don’t laugh. You don’t mock the messy letters or the misspelled words. You sit down next to him, and smile softly, like you always do.
You help him fix it. Guide his hand, one slow letter at a time.
By the end, it says:
“You are my safe.”
He stares at the page like it’s magic. Like he made something beautiful and didn’t know he could.
Your hands cradle his face. Your thumbs brush his cheeks.
“You’re learning so fast,” you whisper. “I’m so proud of you.”
His breath catches.
He wants to say something.
It rises in his throat like a scream he’s buried for years.
But nothing comes.
Not yet.
It happens on a rainy evening.
You were pacing, talking fast about something that upset you. School stress, maybe. A rude stranger. The weight of being alive that day.
Cassian stood by your window, watching. Silent. Still. But tense.
He didn’t know how to help. He only knew how to fight.
You noticed. You stopped.
“I’m okay,” you said softly, walking up to him. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you have to fix it. Just you being here… It helps.”
You reached up, brushing back his hair with your fingers.
“My angel.”
That word again. Yours, not his.
But he wanted it.
He wanted it to be his word, too.
You turned away. He didn’t move.
Then—quietly—barely a whisper:
“…Y/N.”
You froze.
The word was broken. Heavy. Like glass under bare feet.
But it was real.
You turned.
He looked terrified. Like he’d done something wrong.
You smiled. Your eyes filled with tears.
You walked back to him slowly, hands trembling as you reached up and cupped his cheeks.
“Say it again,” you breathed.
His lips parted.
He hesitated.
Then—
“…Y/N.”
And this time, it wasn’t about the word.
It was about you.
You kissed him.
Soft. Gentle. Like a secret between only you and the night.
His hands hovered in the air before settling on your waist. He didn’t press. Didn’t move.
He just held you.
Like that was the miracle.
That night, you taught him a new word.
"Love."
He traced it in your palm again and again.
And when you fell asleep curled in his arms, he whispered it once. Into your hair. Into the quiet.
“…Love.”
He may not understand the world.
But he understands you.
And now—
He’s learning how to say it.
You still don’t know his name.
You never ask.
Not because you’re not curious—
But because you know he doesn’t know how to give it.
He doesn’t know what names are supposed to mean. He wasn’t given one with love. His name was forged in fists, shaped in silence, beaten into bone. It's not a name he wears—it’s a weight.
And yet—
He says your name like it’s sacred.
Like it’s the only sound in the universe he wants in his mouth.
Sometimes whispered into your pillow when you’re not looking.
Sometimes scrawled onto paper over and over again in shaky letters.
You find them.
Little scraps folded in your books, tucked in your drawers:
Just your name.
Written with devotion.
Childlike. Obsessive. Sweet.
You call him angel, still.
Sometimes shadow. Sometimes pretty boy in a half-teasing tone that always makes his ears pink.
One day, you ask him softly, brushing your lips across his cheek:
“…What do I call you?”
He tilts his head. Blinks slowly. Thinks hard. Like the question is in another language.
You try again.
“Do you have a name?”
His brows furrow. He shrinks a little—just a little.
You cup his cheek and whisper, “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”
But then, one night, wrapped in your sheets, skin pressed to yours, after you taught him how to touch—
He gives it to you.
Not because you asked.
Because he wanted to.
Because for the first time in his life, it felt safe.
“…Cassian.”
Your breath catches.
“Cassian,” you repeat, voice warm. “That’s beautiful.”
He looks away.
“Just like everything else about you.”
And he doesn’t say anything—but his fingers curl around your wrist and his lips press to your neck, and you know he’s trying to say thank you without words.
He doesn’t know how to kiss properly.
The first time he tried to kiss you, he just pressed his forehead to yours, trembling, lost. You smiled, took his face in your hands, and showed him. Patient. Gentle. Lips brushing lips like butterfly wings. Again. And again.
He’s a fast learner.
And he’s hungry.
Not lustful—devoted. Starving to worship. To memorize every sound you make. He touches like you're a secret language he was born to learn.
Teaching him gets intimate.
You write words on his chest with your finger.
Safe. Love. You.
He trembles when your nails drag down his ribs.
You take his hand and guide it along your thigh, your collarbone, whispering body parts like vocabulary.
He mouths them in return—quietly, obediently.
“Shoulder.”
“Neck.”
“Hip.”
“…Y/N.”
“No, Cassian,” you giggle softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “That’s me, not a body part.”
He just stares, wide-eyed. Then kisses your shoulder in apology.
He worships you.
It’s in how he kneels between your thighs like you’re holy.
How he tugs your shirt up just to rest his cheek on your stomach.
How he breathes you in. Touches you like you’ll disappear.
He never wants to go further unless you guide him.
You do.
Slowly.
You teach him how to make love like you taught him how to speak—
With your hands. Your eyes. Your patience.
He follows every breath. Every arch. Every sound.
He writes love on your back in kisses.
One night, after, he lays there in silence, watching your fingers trace letters onto his palm again.
He mouths them carefully:
“B-e-l-o-n-g.”
And then, looking straight into your eyes—
He spells the last word:
“T-o Y-o-u.”
And you smile, pulling him close, your lips brushing his ear as you whisper:
“Yes, Angel. Always.”
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— MASTERLIST ☆
— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆
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steveslevis · 2 months ago
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have you ever tried this one?
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azriel x innocent!reader
summary: azriel is very experienced in the romance department and you're not. well, that is until you're introduced to the world of nesta's favorite book genre and everything changes.
warnings: horny!az x innocent!reader!!!, shadow bondage, praise kink, PIV, mentions of smutty books, mentions of nessian’s unintentional exhibitionism, size kink/big dick az, overstimulation, orgasm denial
word count: 6.1k
Curled up on the loveseat next to the fireplace at the far end of your reading room at the House of Wind, you’re too entranced by the book in front of you to notice the two Illyrians who sneak in.
It isn’t until a shadow swirls around your wrist that you’re broken from your trance, which is quickly followed by the book in your hands being snatched up quickly. 
“Hey!” you cry out with a frown as your eyes finally come up to meet your mate’s as he stands in front of you next to Cassian, as he smirks down at the book he stole from your grasp. “I just got to the best part.”
“Ohh, are they about to fuck?” Cassian chuckles, snatching the book from Azriel’s hand to skim the page you’re on. 
“N—No,” you say sheepishly with a furrowed brow, sitting up quickly as your cheeks flush red at his question. “They just admitted their feelings for each other and kissed.”
Cassian frowns over at you as he finishes reading the page, visibly disappointed by the lack of steaminess in your book. “You’re a very different reader than Nes is.” he remarks, handing you the book once again.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you question innocently.
“I mean, the books she reads…they’re very detailed if you know what I mean.” the male retorts with a smirk, “They really get her going, and I thank the Cauldron for them every day.”
You open your mouth to ask him more, but your mate plopping down next to you on the loveseat stops you in your tracks. 
“Ignore him, sweetheart.” he says softly, pulling your legs into his lap as he massages your calves gently. “He’s being crude.”
“Yeah, sure.” Cassian chuckles, grinning wildly. “If you really wanna know about them, you can ask Nesta. She’d be happy to introduce you to the world of highly inappropriate books anytime.”
Azriel shoots Cassian a warning glare as your blush deepens, your eyes wide with curiosity as the male throws his hands up in defeat before retreating from the room. Before you can say anything on the matter, Azriel reaches a hand up to stroke your cheek, leaning over to kiss your forehead simultaneously. 
“Did you have a good day, love?” he says in a quiet voice to change the subject, thumb running along your cheek while smiling at you.
“Pretty good,” you mumble, forgetting about your book once more in favor of climbing up into your mate’s lap. “Just spent most of the day reading and napping by the fire.”
“Hmm, just pretty good? That sounds like your idea of a perfect day.” he hums against the soft skin of your neck, trailing kisses along the smooth expanse. 
“I am on my second book of the day, so it’s been pretty successful if I do say so myself.” you giggle, running your hands through his hair while leaning into his touch. His hand running along your thigh, toying with the hem of your dress makes you shiver, your hips involuntarily leaning into his as you do. “H—How was your day?” you question, trying to ignore how flustered he makes you feel. 
“Boring, I missed you too much.” he murmurs shortly, breathing in your scent as he leans in to nip at your neck, his hands holding your hips in place when you unconsciously grind yours against his. “Thought about coming home and spending all day with you instead of being stuck in Windhaven.”
You giggle when his teeth graze your neck, skin heating as drinks you in. “Missed you too, Azzy.” you say quietly while reaching for his face, your hand hooking under his chin to pull his lips away from your neck and up to your own. 
Your lips are plush and warm against his as you run your fingers through his hair. A small whimper sounds as he tugs at your bottom lip with his teeth, surprised by the eagerness from the male. The tiny noise is enough to drive Azriel wild, but he controls himself for your sake. He wants nothing more than to rip the little sage cotton dress you’re wearing to shreds and pull you onto his cock, to have you ride his length until you’re a crying mess, but he makes no such advances. 
Though the two of you have been mated for over three years now, you’re still as shy as the day he met you, still just as meek when it comes to sex as you were on the day he first kissed you. Sure, you’d bedded males prior to being with Azriel, but you’d never actually been with someone who took the time to make sure you were taken care of first. You’d never even experienced an orgasm before being with him, so the world of sex was essentially brand new once you’d accepted the bond. Azriel was worlds more experienced than you and you knew it, but he never minded taking things slow, not with you. He enjoyed taking his time and taking in every single inch of you, enjoyed making sure you were satisfied and drawing those sweet little sounds out of your pretty little lips when you’d cum for him. 
It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about doing more for your mate, you knew he was always holding back with you, knew he was treating you like a fragile doll that was ready to break. You’d been fine with that for quite a while, but things had changed recently. Within the last few weeks, you’d craved more and more from him, craved the rough touch and sharp tongue you knew were hidden behind that sweet facade he always put on for you. You didn’t want him to hold back anymore. But in all reality, you didn’t know how to reciprocate and make things interesting for him, so you stuck with your simple, basic manners of affection for now.
You’re pulled from your thoughts when one of Azriel’s hands snakes from your waist towards your breast, groping at it through the thin cloth of your dress. You gasp against his lips and he chuckles, thumb rolling along your pebbled nipple gently.
“A–Az…” you mutter as you pull away from the kiss, your cheeks flushing a deep shade of maroon, “We–We can’t, not in here…”
As much as you wanted to, you’d never done anything like this in any place other than in your shared bed. You’d be downright embarrassed if someone caught you in such a public place…that was the fuzzy feeling in your chest that you were feeling right now, embarrassment, wasn’t it?
“Hmm, why not?” he says, feigning a frown as he peers at you with darkening hazel eyes, “It is your reading room, after all. You should be able to do whatever you want in your own room.”
Azriel typically stopped as soon as you expressed your apprehension to him, but he could feel the heat radiating from your body, could smell the arousal on you as he teased you. He knew you well, he knew you wanted this just as much as him.
“Az,” you say with a breathless giggle, burying your face in his shoulder as he tries to coax it out of you.
“What love?” he coos, gently angling his hips up into yours to earn a strained moan from you, “Just tell me what you want. We can do whatever you want.”
Before you can even think about what you really want, there’s a harsh knock against the threshold of the open door. “Dinner, lovebirds.” Nesta says bluntly, walking past the room without another word.
There’s still the ghost of a smirk on Azriel’s lips as you look up at him, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as you think about even getting caught in your mate’s lap in the reading room. He leans over then to kiss you quickly before pulling the two of you to your feet, shadows smoothing out the skirts of your dress as his fingers intertwine with yours. 
“We’ll finish this conversation later, hmm?” he murmurs, smiling down at you sweetly as you nod feverishly, trying to compose yourself before making your way downstairs. 
_______________________________
You decide to change up your lounging location the next day, opting to read in the drawing room of the House of Wind instead of your private quarters, in hopes that you’ll get the courage to stop Nesta if she makes her way downstairs.
If you were being honest, you hadn’t stopped thinking about Cassian’s suggestion from the day before, about him telling you to ask his mate about the world of highly inappropriate books. 
Sure, the books you read were fun, but from the looks of it, the books that Nesta read were highly influential in her love life, and Cassian definitely benefited from her reading them. The thought of the time you’d accidentally walked into the kitchen one evening for a midnight snack and had actually run into the two of them tangled in each other came to your mind when you thought of it. How Cassian had Nesta bent over the kitchen island, one large hand gripping the meat of her ass while the other was snaked around her neck as he pounded into her mercilessly from behind. How you remembered him muttering extremely foul words in her ear, mumbling about ‘Is this how they did it in the book, huh? Is this how you wanted me?’.
You thanked the Cauldron that neither of them had seen you that night, and that you were able to slip out of the room before you were heard. But that didn’t mean that the vision wasn’t etched into your brain and didn’t replay in your thoughts every once in a while. 
Luckily for you, Nesta did decide to make her way to the drawing room in the early afternoon, a handful of her infamous books in hand. She silently sits on the loveseat opposite to you, offering you company in your reading time. 
“I’ve never seen you reading down here,” she remarks bluntly before opening one of her books, raising her brow at you when you give her a shy smile. 
“I just thought I’d switch it up today, I’ve been cooped up in my reading room for a while.” you say as nonchalantly as possible, though it’s not a complete lie, you had been meaning to find a new reading spot for a few weeks now. 
Nesta sees right through the thinly-veiled half lie, a smirk playing on her lips. It’s then that you know that Cassian definitely told her about your reaction to his suggestion. 
“Are you sure that’s all? You sure you weren’t waiting for me to come downstairs too?” she implores, sharp eyes honed in on your wide ones. “A little bat might’ve told me that you’re potentially interested in some…new reading material.”
You flush at her words, cheeks hot as she gives you a knowing smirk. Your silence is enough for her to know your true answer, so she takes the opportunity to extend two of the books to you. Hesitantly, you take them, placing them in your lap as you study the titles–Fire and Desire and Cloaked in Shadows–before looking back up at her. Nesta looks at you expectantly, as if she’s waiting for you to open them and test the waters. 
You carefully open Fire and Desire to a random page, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at the words.
“Gods, look at that,” Manon moaned, sharp nails trailing along the swell of her new pet’s peaked nipple, “look how well you take my fingers, such a needy slut.”
The girl whines desperately, bucking her hips wildly as Manon adds another finger and circles her clit with her thumb. The witch kisses down her neck, leaving bruising marks along the exposed skin so everyone knows she’s hers, that she’s theirs. 
“P–Please, Masters, I’m so–so close.” she begs, eyes welling up with tears as she stares at the witch; she’s desperate for release, but she can’t get there until they say so.
“What do you think, princeling?” Manon says in a teasing tone after feigning contemplation, fingers never relenting in the female’s dripping cunt.
Dorian stands behind the females, a smirk on his lips as he watches, hands falling onto the girls’ hips to press his ever-hard length against her. A half-surprised gasp falls from her lips when the prince’s hand grips her throat, squeezing lightly as she grinds back against his cock. 
“I think she’s earned her right to cum, but, not just yet.” he says with a smirk, Manon grins wickedly at him as his free hand travels to the girl’s ass, “I think I want her to cum while you continue to finger her sweet cunt and I’ll take her in the ass–”
“Oh–that one’s mine.” Nesta’s words pull you from your trance, snatching the book from your hands hastily. “Sorry, I meant to give you this one instead.” she says with a wry chuckle, handing you another one called The Archer’s Attraction. “That one and Cloaked in Shadows are much more beginner friendly. Still very heated, but much better for your tastes.”
You’re almost too flustered to open the other books, but your interest is well past piqued now. So, you opt to flip to a random page of The Archer’s Attraction to see if this one is any better. 
Luna is straddling Enos’ chest, hips bucking in overstimulation as he tugs her further and further up his body until she’s hovering over his mouth. His tongue lashes out then, licking a stripe up her core to make her shout in pleasure. He smirks up at her, lips glistening with her arousal as his fingers slide through her folds to lazily pump into her. 
Tears shine in her eyes as she tries to free her hands that are bound behind her back, writhing under his touch. 
“I know, I know it, sweetheart.” he coos condescendingly, rubbing soothing circles on her hip as she quietly begs for him to let up. “Is it too much? The little slut can’t take it anymore?” 
She thinks for a moment, silent turmoil in her mind as she thinks through her next words. She wants nothing more than for him to keep going, but she needs his cock more than anything. Needs him to pound into her and take full control, she needs more than his tongue and his fingers. 
“N–Need you, Enos.” she whines, pouting down at the dark-eyed male. 
“Has your brain gone to mush with just two orgasms?” he chuckles, “ Silly little girl, you have me right here, and I’ll give you what you want after I take what I want from you, okay?”
Luna nods quickly, hips jerking when his fingers begin their slow attack on her core. 
“Good girl, now sit on my face and cum one more time and I’ll give you my cock.”
You can feel Nesta’s smirk before you even look up from the novel, all too aware of the tiniest gasp you let out upon reading the last sentence. This time, the gasp wasn’t from true shock, but from intrigue instead.
“Is that one more your speed?” she laughs as you close the book, you meekly nod at the female, “Well good, it’s yours to keep if you want it. Read away, I’m sure Az will be more than happy to oblige if you find anything you enjoy in there.”
Nesta immediately turns back to her own book, leaving you to read in silence next to her. Instead of asking one of the million questions you have floating through your mind at the moment, you decide to open The Archer’s Attraction to the first page and begin reading. You’re almost immediately hooked, the romance and tension between the two main characters draws your hopeless romantic heart in as soon as you’re through the first chapter. 
There’s definitely not a lack of heated scenes throughout the book, and each one leaves you with blushed cheeks and an ache in your stomach. The dominant personality of the male, Enos, is what really gets you, though. Each scene with him and Luna has you desperate for more of his foul mouth. Your mind races as you think of what it would be like for Azriel to talk to you like that, to let him take control and let him degrade you if he wants to. 
The majority of the day slips away from you quickly as you finish the book at record speed, desperate to feed the burning desire in the pit of your stomach with each turning page. 
By the time you reach the last page, the sun is low in the sky and the drawing room is dimly lit only by fae lights littered around the ceiling. Nesta is still deeply engrossed in her own book on the opposite couch when you look up, but looks up soon after with a knowing grin.
“How was it?” she questions with a raised brow, shutting her own book after stuffing the bookmark in. 
“So good,” you giggle, setting The Archer’s Attraction on the table next to her other books. 
“Oh, keep it. Re-read it as many times as you’d like.” she offers with a smirk. “And if you grow tired of those two in the next day or need some more inspiration, my personal library is open to you at any time. You know where to find it.”
You smile at the silver-eyed woman while mumbling a thanks to her, and she actually shoots you a genuine smile in return before turning back to her own book.
You excuse yourself quietly after that, slipping from the drawing room to make your way up to your bedroom with your new books in hand. Your body feels like it’s on fire as you set the books down on your bedside, mind racing as you think about all of the new and exciting things you want to try with your mate. 
To distract yourself while you wait for him to return, you nearly float into the en-suite bathroom to prepare for bed. Excitement flows through you while you brush your hair and clean up. At some point during your flurry of emotions, you inevitably tug on that bond connecting your soul to Azriel’s, and he in turn tugs back as you’ve finished changing into your favorite silk slip and are curling up under the covers.
One of his shadows slithers into the bedroom then, snaking up your arm and toward your ear. Home late, trouble in Autumn. Don’t wait up, the shadow whispers to you. Your excitement stills then, sadness replacing the warmth in your chest since he won’t be home for quite a while.
You know to heed the shadow’s warning and decide not to wait up for him, knowing he might not even be home until dawn if things go awry with Beron. So, you nestle into the blankets and try your best not to think about the arousal swirling in your stomach as you attempt to fall asleep. 
_______________________________
Moonlight filters in through the window as you feel the bed dip behind you, a sign that your beloved mate is finally home. You aren’t sure if what time it is, but know it’s sometime in the dead of night when you peer outside. An arm snakes around your waist slowly then and you groan lightly, rolling over in Azriel’s arms to face him. 
He frowns down at you then as your tired eyes begin to flutter open, obviously disappointed in himself for not being able to sneak in successfully without waking you.
“Az…” you mumble, reaching a hand up to stroke his cheek gently.
“Shh, sweetheart. I’m sorry I woke you.” he coos, his own hand resting on the curve of your hip as you inch closer to him. “Go back to sleep, love.”
You only whine in protest then, becoming all too aware of the pit of arousal that’s been brewing in your gut since the morning. Your arms weakly push at him and he chuckles quietly, adjusting to where he’s laying flat on his back for you. It’s not an unusual sleepy request from you, as you often sleep on top of the large male’s chest when you’ve missed him. 
You don’t lazily flop down on his chest like you usually do, though. Instead, you straddle his hips and pull yourself up to his lips, kissing him slowly. Azriel’s brow furrows as you wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the tired kiss without a word of explanation. Your hips are pressed firmly against his as you grind into him, making the male grunt in surprise at the feeling. 
“Sweetness, what are you doing?” he murmurs against your lips, hands falling subconsciously onto your hips to keep you in place on his lap.
“Need you, Az.” you almost whimper as your hands snake towards the waistband of his boxers. It’s in this moment that you thank the Cauldron that he doesn’t like to sleep in anything other than underwear. 
“Need me?” he questions, one side of his mouth quirking up in a smirk as you sit yourself up to look at him properly, waiting for his approval before hastily tugging his boxers off. The look in your eyes is tired but desperate, one he hasn’t seen from you in a while. He can smell the arousal swirling around you as you stare down at him, your lips pulling into the slightest pout as you nod. “Alright, I guess I can’t say no to that when I left you alone all night.”
Your eyes flicker with excitement as he speaks, need roiling deep within your stomach again. He grips your hips more firmly then, attempting to roll you off of him so he can put you onto the bed underneath him, but you don’t budge. He raises a brow at you, but doesn’t protest as he watches closely as your hands finally push the waistband of his boxers down enough to free his cock. In your time mated to the male, you’d never been on top, never ridden him before. You’d always been afraid that the new position might hurt, that you might fuck something up. But after reading about it, you couldn’t get the image of riding his cock out of your mind, feeling so full of him as you cry out his name, it’s the only thing in your brain. You need this. 
Azriel props himself up on his elbows while you stare down at his cock, eyes wide with need as you fist the length slowly. You’ve always struggled to take his full, thick length, so you know it’s going to be a challenge to ride him, but you’re up for it. 
“Let me get you prepped first, sweetheart.” he suggests, knowing the inner turmoil in your eyes too well.
You shake your head adamantly at his words, pouting up at him. “Need you now, Az.” you retort, essentially begging to ride him as you continue to stroke his hard cock. 
“Are you sure you want it like this?” He questions, groaning when you squeeze the length perfectly in response before nodding weakly at you before moving to sit up slowly. “Let me at least help you then, okay?” he says, adjusting the two of you so you’d be able to easily slide down on his length while using his upper body to balance, his back resting against the headboard. 
You’re silent as Azriel guides you back onto his lap, watching closely as you grip his cock to line it up with your core. You look up at him when you slide the tip between your dripping folds, revelling in the way he nearly growls when you tease him. A small, yet devious smile is on your face before you begin to sink onto his length, gasping as he fills you perfectly.
“Fuck, sweetheart.” Azriel grunts, hands holding your hips like a vice as he slowly pushes you down onto him. “That’s it, love. Fuck, you feel so good.” 
It takes almost a full minute for you to get fully sheathed onto his large cock, tears pricking your eyes as you bottom out, feeling so fucking full but so fucking good. 
“Hey, hey,” he says quickly when he notices the tears in the corners of your eyes, hands falling from your hips to cup your cheeks as he frowns, “are you okay, sweetness? Is it too much?”
“N–No,” you say firmly, raising your hips slowly to ride his length. “It—I feel so full. It feels so—so good.”
Azriel watches you with wonder-filled eyes as you start to bounce on his lap, unable to hold back the moans that fall from your lips as you do. He’s quick to wonder what’s gotten into you, what made you so needy today while he was gone. But he doesn’t dare to ask in case he ruins the moment. He lets you take the lead, enjoying the view.
“So tight, sweetheart. Your sweet cunt feels so good, squeezing my cock so perfectly.” he praises in a low voice, eyes clouded with lust as his hands wander over your body slowly. 
Your glassy, tear-brimmed eyes light up at his praise, as if his words spur you on even more, and you speed up your hips. You look down between your bodies, core clenching as you watch Azriel’s cock sliding into you easily with every bound. As you stare, his hand comes into view as it slides between your legs, finding your clit with ease to heighten your pleasure. A hedonistic sob leaves your lips then, making Azriel chuckle at your reaction. 
“G—Gods, Az.” you whimper, whipping your head up to look at him again, noting how his hazel eyes have gone nearly black with lust. “F—Feels so good. Wanna—Wanna cum on your cock like this.”
A smirk passes over Azriel’s face as you continue to whine and buck your hips frantically, watching you with rapt fascination. He’s never seen you act like this in your time together, and he’s especially shocked that you all but pounced on him as soon as he entered the room this evening. 
“Good girl, such a good girl for me.” he says experimentally in a low voice, watching your face for your reaction. His words seem to spur you on even more, you grip his shoulders like a vice as you pick up your pace on his length, babbling under your breath in between moans. 
“Look at you, riding my cock so well. Should’ve had you do this a long time ago, sweetness.” he praises, continuing his assault on your clit as you stare at him with wide, glassy eyes. “You gonna cum on my cock like this, sweetheart? Gonna be a good slut and take my cum?” 
Your hips stutter almost imperceptibly before picking back up again, shocked by his foul words and the way they make your stomach churn with desire.
“Y–Yes, want you to fill me up, Az.” you whine. 
“Keep riding me like this and I’ll fill you up soon enough, love.” he mumbles with a smirk while moving his hands to grip your waist, guiding you to move even quicker up and down his length. 
You whimper at the loss of pressure on your clit, but a gasp of surprise falls from your lips when you feel a cold, wispy tendril make its way to your core to replace its master’s fingers. Your heart races as you look down to see shadows snaking around your midsection and between your thighs, focusing on your clit as Azriel pulls you down onto his cock frantically. He’d never let his shadows participate in the bedroom with you, so the sudden sensation is enough to send you tumbling straight to the edge. 
“That’s it, sweetness.” Az groans, a smirk plastered on his face as he stares at you, “Such a good girl, so tight around my cock. I know you’re close, love, go ahead and make a mess of my cock.”
His words of praise are your undoing, finally letting the pleasure roiling in your gut come to a head. You let out a loud shout of pleasure as your walls flutter around his cock, hips stuttering as Azriel continues to guide you along his length. The male continues to murmur words of praise as you come down from your high, refusing to let you out of his grip as you squirm against him. 
“Just a little longer, love.” he coos as he watches you writhe in his lap. “Just–Just give me a second and I’ll give you what you need from me.” 
Your eyes are wide and brimming with tears of pleasure as you stare at your mate, watching as something animalistic takes over as he adjusts you on top of him. He situates you to where you don’t have to move up and down anymore, opting to thrust up into your dripping cunt to reach his own high. One of his hands reaches for your clit once more, rubbing tight circles against it as he holds you in place with his other hand. You try to squirm out of his touch then, overstimulation sending a jolt of electricity to your core, but his firm grip doesn’t let you budge. 
“A–Az!” you cry out, taking in the details of his face as he stares at you with lust-filled eyes. “I–I can’t.” 
“Do you want my cum, sweetness?” he questions, never breaking as he searches your eyes for any sign of true hesitation but finding none when you nod at him quickly. “Then you’ll take what I give you and cum with me like a good little girl, alright?” 
You’d truly made something snap within Azriel by riding him tonight, forever changing your dynamic for the better it seemed. The look in his eyes is domineering but still filled with awe, watching as you nod feverishly at his request. A deep chuckle falls from his lips and arousal swirls in your stomach all over again.
“C’mon, sweetheart.” he coaxes, pressing his fingers into your clit again, “I know you’re close again, so cum with me, baby.”
A loud shout of pleasure falls from your lips as the first wave of your second orgasm washes over you, while Azriel shudders beneath you. His grip on your waist forces you down finally, fully sheathed on his length as his release coats your fluttering walls.
“Good girl, that’s it, take everything I give you.” Azriel praises, pupils blown as he stares at you intently, taking in every detail of your pleasure-filled expression. “Such a good girl for me.”
Once his grip on your waist loosens, you collapse onto Azriel’s chest with a loud whimper. He continues to coo in your ear as you come down from your high, his hands rubbing soothing circles along your back as you fight sleep on top of him. 
You don’t know how long it’s truly been when your eyes flutter open again, but you’re no longer in your mate’s lap, but lying face down on the bed as he runs a wet cloth between your thighs to clean you up while continuing to murmur praises to you. He slides into the bed next to you after finishing his cleanup, pulling you against his side when he sees you look up at him. 
“Hi,” he says in a low voice, one hand coming up to smooth your hair down.
“Hi,” you reply softly, nuzzling into his side.
“Wanna talk about what just happened?” he suggests, a small smirk playing on his lips. 
“No, not tonight.” you giggle, a blissful smile on your lips as you rest your head on his chest and let your eyes flutter closed. “That’s a conversation for another time when I’m not out of it like I am right now.”
“Alright, love.” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Rest up.”
_______________________________
Everything about your relationship with Azriel changes after that night, and it’s definitely for the better. 
You become damn near insatiable, which makes sense considering you’ve continued to read Nesta’s books instead of your own for the entire week. Every book inspires you to try something new with your mate, who never complains, only takes it in stride as he watches you turn into someone just as horny as him. 
Azriel has never experienced anything like this sudden switch-up in his five hundred years, but he definitely cannot complain. 
He’s gotten to fuck you in the shower, pounded into you while you bent over the arm of the chaise in your reading room, ate you out on the kitchen counter in the middle of the night, fingered you at the dining table on an evening that it was only you two, and even had you crawl under his desk to cockwarm him with your sweet mouth while he was working late one night. 
To say he’s been pleasantly surprised by your eagerness would be an understatement, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t questioned the reasoning behind it at all. The question has been eating away at him slowly, but he hasn’t found the perfect time to ask until right now. 
Currently, you’re laying in your shared bed, hands bound behind your back with shadows as your face is buried in the sheets, your ass in the air as he stands behind you.
Azriel has been edging you for a good hour at this point, but only because you asked him to, you wanted to try it out. 
Your thighs are shaking, tears brimming in your eyes as you crane your neck to look at the male behind you. His eyes are dark with lust as he looks down at you, a smirk playing on his lips while one hand reaches for your core, fingers swirling against your clit at an agonizingly slow pace.
“A–Az,” you whimper, trembling under his touch, “P–Please, I–I need to–to cum, please.” 
“Yeah? My little slut has had enough?” he coos in a demeaning tone, chuckling darkly as you nod feverishly at him. “Alright, you poor thing. I’ll let you cum on my cock if you tell me something, okay?”
You nod again, eager to do anything to please your mate now. You look at him expectantly with wide, glassy eyes, waiting for his question. 
“What’s made you so insatiable this week, huh?” Azriel questions in a low voice, sliding two fingers into your heat with ease while twisting his hand so his thumb can stroke your clit. “What’s gotten into you? Last week, you were my shy sweetheart, but you’ve turned into a horny little bunny this week. What changed, sweetness?”
“I–I, fuck.” you whine, hips bucking involuntarily as you squeeze your eyes shut to focus on anything other than Azriel’s fingers pumping into you. “I–I started reading some of Nesta’s b–books and got–got inspired.” 
“Is that so?” he chuckles, his fingers coming to a halt buried deep in your cunt makes you cry out in frustration. “Have I helped you fulfill your fantasies about some of those horny little scenes you’ve been reading about?” 
“Y–Yes!” you whine, pressing your hips into his hand as he stays still behind you. “Y–You definitely have.” 
“Next time, I’ll have to have you read your favorite scenes to me and see how well I can help recreate them for you, yeah?” he teases, finally pulling his fingers from your heat as he positions himself between your thighs, “But right now, I think you’ve been teased enough and deserve your reward. Cum on my cock whenever you’re ready, sweetness.”
A sob falls from your lips as his cock finally nudges into you, your whole body shaking from the pent-up pleasure. You nearly black out when he bottoms out, one hand snaking around to tease your clit as you cry beneath him. 
It doesn’t take you long to reach your high, especially after being teased mercilessly for over an hour now. Your walls flutter around his cock, making Azriel groan, following close behind you in his own release, being so turned on by the process of edging you that it takes him all of ten strokes with you milking his cock to coat your walls with his cum. 
“F–Fuck, sweetheart.” he groans as you both come down from your high, pulling out of you slowly as you all but collapse onto the bed when his shadows release you from their hold. “Who would’ve thought you being my little bookworm would pay off so well?”
A small giggle falls from your lips as he leans down to kiss your cheek.
“There’s plenty more where this came from, don’t worry.” you say tiredly as he pulls you into his chest and peppers your face with kisses.
“Can’t wait, sweetness.”
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lifeasadorkwithnolife · 2 months ago
Text
Concussed (Azriel x Reader)
Cassian accidentally gives you a concussion, his only request is that you give him time to get away before Az gets home.
------
“Your heads not in the game,” Cassian teased, nudging your feet apart as he examined your form. “Come on, what’s on your mind?”
               “Nothing is on my mind.” You mumbled, dropping your fist and turning to him with a pout. “We’ve been out here for hours, can we please be done?”
               It was an unusually hot day, and you and Cassian had stripped down to the bare minimum, and it still wasn’t cool enough. His torso was coated in sweat, and you could see the defined lines of muscle lining his abdomen and arms. You, on the other hand, had only joined the inner circle recently, and you couldn’t see any muscle in your abdomen, hence the vigorous training sessions with Cassian.
               “Do you think Hybern is going to wait until it’s nice and cool outside to attack us?” Cassian asked, raising his eyebrows and crossing his arms.
               “I don’t know… maybe?” You shrugged, he shook his head, laughing. “Spar with me one more time.”
               “I always lose!” the grumble left you before you could stop yourself. Cassian laughed again, and you got into position on the mat, and he stood across from you. Past Cassian, you could see the landscape of Velaris, the mountains in the background with the sun high above. Clouds littered the sky but provided almost no shadow.
               Speaking of shadows, you wonder what Azriel had been up to. You hadn’t seen him today, where usually you two spoke before breakfast. Seeing him was one of your favorite parts of the day, whilst he was quiet and refined with everyone else, you made him smile and laugh. Your friendship was full of inside jokes, occasional hugs and a lot of pining for him. You wish you were able to move on, and in an effort to, you told Cassian- but that was a huge mistake.
               Cassian teased both of you, constantly, and you could tell Azriel was embarrassed. You two would be eating breakfast together in the morning, and Cassian would come in and call you two lovebirds, or a nice couple, or even ask if he was interrupting something with a wink. Azriel would always snap some retort back at Cassian, something along the lines of ‘Not us’,  “Not gonna happen”, or, the one that hurt your heart the most, “Not in a million years.”
               Sure, Cassian’s teasing was embarrassing, but you never understood why Azriel felt like he had to shut it down so harshly, Cassian was only joking after all.
               “You’re not focused!” Cassian snapped his fingers in front of you, and your eyes moved quickly from the mountains to him. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
               “Of course I did!” You snap back.
               “Lets see about that.” Cassian replied, his fist came at you in the combination you guys had been working on. You ducked to the right and you heard the whoosh of his hand past your ear. You blocked his right knee with your forearm, turning quickly to throw a punch into his unshielded face.
               Instead of watching your fist land a satisfying blow to his chin, you instead watched as his fist came right towards you and land an unforgiving blow to your right temple. You flew back on the mat, landing in a heap and losing the air in your lungs.
               “Y/N!” Cassian shouted, quickly getting on his knees and standing above you. You saw his shadowed blurried face above yours. After a few moments, you were able to gasp, your lungs finally allowing air in. Cassian’s one face turned into two, then four. “Y/N, are you okay?”
               “I don’t know.” You whispered, you reached up for his face to see if there was really four of him. You cupped his cheek. “Cassian, I am literally seeing like- eight of you right now.”
               “Fuck Y/N!” Cassian groaned, turning his head away and looking around. “I thought you said you heard what I said, I told you that after the first combination, we were skipping the second and doing the third.”
               “I think I lied.” You groaned, your arm falling back down to your side. You reached up to feel your head and could feel that your eye area was swelling already. “The sun is so bright.”
               “I’m going to take you to madja Y/N, but please, do not tell Azriel.”
------
               Hours passed, and Madja diagnosed you with a slight concussion. She was able to give you something for the pain, but the bruising and eventual black eye was unavoidable. Cassian had tucked you into your chair in the library, making sure you had a snack, a couple of books and a tall glass of water within reach. “Cassian- I’m not helpless you know.”  
               “Y/N- trust me, this is the least I can do.” Cassian handed you your book, then moved the table even closer to you. “Is this close enough?”
               “Yes! I’m fine, you guys get punched around all the time, I can handle it.” You tried to raise your eyebrows in a teasing manner but felt a surge of pain through the right side of your face. Cassian’s face fell, “I’m serious, don’t feel bad. It was my fault for not paying attention.”
               “He’s not going to see it that way.” Cassian retorted, and you shook his head.
               “Why are so worried about what Azriel will think?”
               “I just do not want to be anywhere near here when he comes home, speaking of which, I best be on my way.” He leaned down, giving you a light hug before backing up. “Again, I’m sorry, but I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?”
               “Yeah.” You nodded, smiling as he walked from the door. You looked around the now empty room, the fire was roaring in the fireplace, the light leaving shadows against the dark shelves filled with books in varying condition. You nestled into your chair, opening the book and continuing where you left off.
------
               The door opened to the library with a groan, and you smiled to yourself,  noticing the new shadows flowing around you that were  not caused by the fire. “Hey Az.” You hummed, not turning towards him.
               “Hey, how was your day?” His low voice reverberated through the small space, making you smile. He sat in the chair next to you. You were sure he looked handsome, like he does every night, but you didn’t turn your head, instead leaving your hair to frame the ugly bruise.
               “It was uneventful.” You flipped the page, “What about yours?”
               “Just uneventful?” Azriel reached his hand over, grabbing your arm. “What was uneventful?”     
               “Just did a little sparing with…. Cassian.” You hesitated, “It was hot, very hot, and very uneventful.”
               “I feel like you’re not telling me something.” Azriel said, and your felt him get up and go to kneel in front of you. You looked down even further, you probably looked ridiculous. “Why aren’t you looking at me?”
               “No reason Az, my eyes are…tried of looking at stuff.” You cringed at your bad excuse. “I mean- I think its time to get to bed. You walk out first- I’ll be right behind you.”
               Azriel slowly placed his hand on your chin, and gently forced your head up, causing your eyes to meet his. His teasing smile immediately dissolved into concern, then anger. “Y/N!” Azriel’s voice was sharp, but his hands were still gentle as he cradled his face. “What happened?”
               “It wasn’t Cassian’s fault!” You pushed your hair behind your ear, “I was distracted and then his fist just came out of nowhere-“
               Azriel stood up, walking out of the room. You got up to follow, trotting behind him as he went to Cassian’s door. He swung it open, not knocking, and stormed into his empty room. “Where is he?” Azriel growled, turning back to you.
               “Azriel calm down!’ You replied, coming over and grabbing his arm. His shadows dispersed, probably looking for Cassian somewhere in the house. “He left- I don’t know where.”
               “I’m going to kill him.” Azriel looked down at your face, but instead of meeting your eyes he stared at the huge bruise.  
               You understood why Cassian left in this moment, but couldn’t exactly figure out why Azriel was losing his cool. “Azriel please-“
               “Where did he go?”
               “I don’t know! I just said that!” You replied, you turned your head back towards the door and winced, the quick motion causing your head to throb. Azriel’s hand immediately fell to your cheek again. “I’m sorry, it just hurts.”
               “I’m sorry,” he whispers, “lets go back.”
               His hand hovered over your lower back as you walked. “Do you have a concussion?”
               “A slight one, yeah.” You replied, deciding that instead of the library, your room was definitely a better destination.
               “I’m sorry to cut tonight short Az, but I’m really tired.” You looked up at him, opening your door. He nodded, following you in and sitting in the chair next to the bed as you laid down, getting under the covers. As you settled into your pillow, you expected him to move, or leave, but he stayed put. “What are you doing Az?”
               “I’m going to make sure you’re okay.” Azriel stated, leaning back in the chair, his wings awkwardly crunched between him and the wall.
               “Not that I don’t enjoy your company, you know I do, but what?”
               “Concussions are serious Y/N, even if Madja says you’re okay I’m not taking the chance that you’re not, so I’m staying here.”
               “all night?” You retorted, and he nodded.
               “Yep.”
               “Az please, go to bed. You look uncomfortable.”
               “Nope.”
               You glared at him, and he sighed, leaning forward and clasping his scarred hands on his knees. “You want the truth?” You nodded, “I would sit here, all night, and watch you sleep just to make sure you woke up. The fact that Cassian hurt you…. Makes me want to tear him limb from limb, even if he is my brother.”
               “Az-“ You started, leaning up on one arm and taking a good look at him. His eyes bore in to yours, no trace of humor left in them. “You’re serious.”
               “Yes, I’m serious.” He replied, “so don’t ask me to leave again, because I won’t, I physically- I physically can’t leave.”
               “Then at least climb in with me.” You whispered, patting the spot next to you. He froze. “Please, you look uncomfortable.”
               “That’s the concussion talking.” Az mused, and you shook your head.
               “I swear it’s not.” You whispered, earnestly looking at him. “If you were ever hurt, I don’t know what I would do. Do you want the truth?” he nodded, and you sighed. “I didn’t see the punch coming because I was thinking about you, and about…how you would never feel the same way as I do.”
               “And how is that?” Azriel dropped to his knees, coming to the edge of the bed.
               “I…care about you, deeply. I want to spend every day with you, and…” You felt tears prick your eyes and you turned away, your face flushing in embarrassment. “Honestly it really hurts my feelings when you say you could never see us happening, because I’ve always seen us happening.”
               He stared at you, hands falling to his side. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m concussed.” You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes, turning away and plopping on the bed. “Forget I said anything, goodnight, Az.”
               After a few moments, the bed creaked and you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, slightly pulling you. You turned, and Az was above you on his side, staring at the non-bruised side of your face.
               “I have always thought that you would not be able to love me, for the things that I have done.” He whispered, cupping your face. “I never wanted to offend you with the… insinuation that we could ever be a match.”
               “My chest physically hurts when I’m away from you, and my shadows would rather be with you than with me at this point, you are so kind, so beautiful, the thought of us together, the thought of you caring about me, and possibly loving me, just seemed too much like a dream rather than reality.” Tears burned your eyes again as he spoke, “I love you, I’m sorry I ever made you think differently.”
               “I love you too.” You whispered, and he wiped the tear from your cheek. “All those comments Cassian made- it was because I told him how I felt about you, he was just teasing me.”
               Azriel barked a laugh, turning away from you on his back. You looked at him in concern, and he just shook his head. “I had told him about my feelings for you, I thought he was…I thought those comments were aimed at me.”
               You shook your head, laughing as well. “ Az, I won’t stop you if you still want to kill him.”
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allatariel · 21 days ago
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@spectral-musette, thank you, I love it so much! Stunning work as ever, I absolutely adore your style <3 <3 <3
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Some Jyn and Cassian tall and small cuteness for @allatariel
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parkerslatte · 10 months ago
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Different
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings: none
Summary: Ever since Feyre arrived at Velaris, they have only ever known Azriel a stoic and mostly serious. But once his wife comes home, she sees a different side to him.
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
•••
Feyre watched as Azriel stood by the window. His shadows moved over his shoulders and around his ear as if whispering something to him. The expression on Azriel’s face was his same neutral one that only ever seemed to change the smallest amount. And only ever in the presence of the Inner Circle and even then there would only be a small hint of a smile. 
It was late at night and everyone was enjoying a relaxing night with a few bottles of Rhys’s expensive alcohol. So far, Azriel hadn’t moved from his place at the window, his back was rigid as if he was expecting something, though that was the only indicator that he was. His face was his usual stoicism, giving nothing away. 
“Az, are you ever going to get away from that window anytime soon?” Cassian complained. 
Azriel turned his attention to Cassian and scowled. “I’m busy.”
“Not busy enough to spend time with the people you love,” Cassian teased. 
“Az, sit down, you won’t miss anything,” Rhys chimed in. 
With a final look through the window, Azriel walked over to the rest of the Inner Circle and sat in the armchair. His back was tense and he was not fully relaxed. Ever since Feyre had known him he had always been somewhat alert to everything. 
While everyone continues with the card game, Feyre couldn’t help but pay more attention to Azriel than to the game. Like Feyre, Azriel didn’t seem to be paying any attention to the game either. Instead he stared at the table in front of him completely lost in thought. 
Elain, who was sitting on the floor beside Mor, looked up to Azriel. “It’s your turn,” she said. 
“Oh,” Azriel said before picking a card out of his hand and placing it on top of the pile. 
“That isn’t a card you can even put on top,” Cassian complained. 
Azriel rolled his eyes. “Does it matter? You change the rules when you’re losing anyway.”
“I do not!” Cassian exclaimed. “I take this game seriously.”
“Until you are losing,” Nesta mumbled under her breath. 
Cassian began to argue back, clearly becoming outnumbered in his argument. Feyre only watched on with amusement. 
However everything was quickly interrupted by a new voice, one Feyre had never heated before, cut through the argument. 
“I leave you all alone for a few years and everything goes to shit?” 
Everything goes silent as everyone stares at the beautiful female who had just entered the room. Before Feyre could even process everything, Azriel threw his cards back down on the table and rushed up to the female.
The female giggled in delight as Azriel’s arms wrapped around her and swung her around. Feyre looked at her two sisters, each of them held the same expression she did. Confusion. 
What shocked Feyre the most about the situation was the bright and wide smile stretching across Azriel’s face. She had only noticed now that he had dimples. 
“I missed you so much,” Azriel mumbled. 
“It has only been a few months for you,” the female replied. 
“That is too long for me. I always wish for you to be next to me,” Azriel replied and pressed his lips against the females. His arms circled her waist, making sure there wasn’t a single gap between their bodies. The female threaded her fingers through his hair, causing Azriel to sigh in delight. Feyre couldn’t help but feel surprised by this display of affection from Azriel. 
Feyre leaned back against Rhys. “Who is that?”
“Azriel’s mate and wife,” Rhys answered.
“What?” Feyre exclaimed. “None of you have ever mentioned her before.”
“That was Azriel’s decision,” Rhys replied, filling up his glass. “You see, Y/N works as a researcher all over the continent for me so she is rarely ever here so none of us can protect her. Azriel has made a lot of enemies over the years and if he were tied to her, she could be put in even more danger.”
“When was the last time they saw each other?” Elain interjected. 
“For Azriel a few months ago,” Rhys answered. “Those two weeks just before Solstice when Azriel wasn’t here, he was on the continent with her.”
Feyre watched as Azriel buried his head into Y/N’s  neck, holding her against him tightly. Feyre smiled at the sight. 
“It has been at least two years since the rest of us have last seen Y/N,” Cassian chimed in. “It would be nice of her to greet the rest of us.”
Y/N pulled away from Azriel to smile at everyone else. “Give me a break, Cass. If you were to go without a hug from your mate in a few months, you wouldn't be jumping to greet everyone else first.”
“She knows about us?” Nesta asked. 
Cassian nodded. “Whenever Azriel meets up with her, she always asks about you all. Apparently she has been excited to meet you all.” 
Feyre watched as Azriel and Y/N walked over to join the group. Azriel’s gaze never left Y/N for a single second. Feyre’s gaze shifted down to their joined hands. She hid her smile behind her glass. 
Y/N quickly greeted Rhys, Cassian and Mor with a hug and she gave a small nod to Amren. 
Azriel sat down on the armchair first and as Y/N was about to sit in the arm of it, Azriel pulled her down so she sat in his lap instead. His arms locked around her waist as his chin rested on her shoulder. Feyre was sure she had never seen him look so happy before, so at ease. The smile on his face was one Feyre had never seen. 
“It is great to finally meet you three,” Y/N said, her gaze flicking between Feyre, Nesta and Elain. “This one here,” she said, reaching to cup Azriel’s cheek, “has told me a lot about you.”
“It is great to meet you,” Feyre said with a smile. 
“So now that introductions have finished,” Cassian begins, “can we get back to the game now? I was about to win.”
“Is that because you changed the rules halfway through the game?” Y/N teased. 
Cassian rolled his eyes. “You know what, Y/N. I don’t think I missed you at all.”
Y/N chuckled. “We both know that’s a lie.”
Azriel laughed along with Y/N and placed a soft kiss to her shoulder. He looked completely different to the stoic and serious shadowsinger Feyre was used to. With Y/N, Azriel seemed like a completely different person. The tension had vanished from his body and his shadows, which were once sliding over his shoulders, were now caressing Y/N legs and arms. One of his hands caressed her thigh while the other threaded with hers. Feyre could see the goosebumps appear on Y/N’s skin wherever he caressed. 
Azriel whispered something into Y/N’s ear which caused her to turn to him, smiling wide, her lips hovering just above his. The glimmer in Azriel’s eyes was prominent as he looked at her. It was as if she hung the stars. There was so much love and tenderness in his eyes that it could only be described as something out of a romance novel. She had never seen him look so at ease before. It was if everything else had melted away and the only thing left was Y/N.
Feyre couldn’t help but feel giddy at the sight. 
“How long have they been mates for?” Feyre asked Rhys. 
“Nearly three hundred years,” Rhys replied, wrapping an arm around Feyre. “They have been married for longer, the bond snapped nearly fifty years after they were married.”
“They seem happy,” Feyre said, her eyes not shifting from where Azriel and Y/N sat. 
Rhys smiled at his two friends, friends he considered family. “They are. Azriel is always his happiest when Y/N is around. He always has been ever since they met.”
“Why does she go away for long periods of time?” Feyre questioned. “It feels like torture when I’m away from you for too long. I cannot imagine being mates to someone for three hundred years and only being able to see them every few months.”
“That is the way it has been through their whole relationship,” Rhys explains. “They both knew what each other did for a job and neither of them wanted the other to give it up.” 
“How long is she back for this time?” Feyre asked. 
“I hadn’t asked,” Rhys said. “But I have a small feeling she will be here for a while this time.”
Feyre frowned. “How so?”
“Because if I know anything about Y/N, it is that she would never decline a glass of my finest wine and so far she has declined every glass Mor has offered her,” Rhys observed. 
Feyre looked at Rhys excitedly. “Does that mean—?”
Rhys smiled. “They haven’t said anything so I assume that they wish to keep the news between them for a little while longer.”
Feyre smiled over at Y/N and Azriel. She caught Y/N’s eye. The beautiful female only sent a wink Feyre’s way, a clear indication that she had overheard her and Rhys’s conversation. 
“Az, it’s your turn,” Nesta said. 
Azriel throws all of his cards onto the table. “I think I am done for the night.”
Cassian groaned . “Really?”
“Really,” Azriel said. “I want to spend time with my gorgeous mate and wife.”
Cassian chuckled. “That is only an excuse because you are losing,” the general teased. 
Azriel rolled his eyes and swooped Y/N up in his arms. Her arms locked around his neck. “If you need us— actually don’t even try to contact us at all.”
Y/N threw her head back and laughed as Azriel carried her out of the room. Feyre could hear them laughing loudly even when the door was firmly closed behind them. Feyre leaned into Rhys and linked her fingers with his.
“I am happy for them,” Feyre said, her eyes staring at the door where Azriel and Y/N had left. 
Rhys kissed the top of Feyre’s head. “Me too.”
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tarotsoul · 4 months ago
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Ghost in the Wind — Part One
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SUMMARY: All your life, your presence had been nothing more than a faint kiss of a breeze—nothing impactful, nothing worth noticing. So why did it hurt so much when that remained the case after moving to Prythian?
WARNINGS: a bit of angst, feelings of self-hatred and worthlessness, brief mentions of sexual assault
WORD COUNT: 3.8k
Series Masterlist
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“No.”
There was no room for argument in Nesta’s tone, no room for anything other than agreement or else she’d reign the Hells on all of them. Her mate be damned, she would not leave the mortal lands without you. Not again.
“If we take her,” Cassian gritted his teeth, “I am inviting her husband to wage war on our kind if he so chooses.”
Nesta bared her teeth. “Rafe is nothing but a coward and a sorry excuse of a man. What kind of war could he wage? If she stays, then so do I.”
Cassian blanched at his mate, his teeth grinding. They were only supposed to have stopped through for no more than a week, to ensure things in the mortal lands were restoring to somewhat of the normalcy they once had before the war.
He blinked at Nesta, noting the way she bore her feet into the solid ground, as if planting herself there like a tree weaving its roots into the soil. He knew the love she had for her cousin, her only friend, as she’d once told him. The guilt she’d felt when she first left the village, left you, hadn’t eased in the slightest.
Perhaps this was the reason she insisted on joining Cassian on this third-grade mission. He cast a quick glance over her shoulder to the small stone house you were occupying, and closed his eyes to ground his breathing.
“We can’t just bring her back without consulting Rhys first.”
Nesta rolled her eyes. “Screw Rhys. I’ll deal with him myself if I have to. She is my family, Cassian. My friend. Every night, he beats her and abuses her and takes from her what she will not willingly give. She is coming back with us.”
Cassian took another grounding breath, the iron will in Nesta’s eyes granting not even a fraction of negotiation. There was too much going on right now, too much to sift through to rebuild their city and legions.
But Nesta was right, and despite not knowing you, he couldn’t stomach the idea of leaving a vulnerable soul with a monster who took and abused like Rafe did. Especially not when he saw the pain on his mate's eyes for her cousin.
“Ten minutes. Tell her to pack necessities only. We will need to leave within the hour if we wish to be gone before her husband returns.”
Nesta didn’t cast him a second glance as she turned and sprinted into your home. You scrambled back from the window, heat painting your cheeks that you’d been caught watching them, straining your ears for a sliver of their conversation, to no avail.
She said nothing of your snooping, only grabbed your hand and dragged you to your sleeping chambers. “Pack only what you need. You’re coming back with us.”
You blinked, lungs seizing the air you tried to breathe. Leaving? For the Fae lands?
“Ness,” you tried, but she held up a slender hand to cut you off.
“Don’t. I made the mistake of leaving you behind before. I won’t do it again.” She couldn’t look at you. Not at the bruises marring your skin, or the split lip you’d earned yourself two nights ago for leaving an unwashed pot in the sink.
So you didn’t think twice about the consequences of being caught fleeing. You didn’t think twice at all as you stuffed minimal clothing into a satchel along with a photo of your beloved mother and the worn journal you kept hidden beneath the mattress.
Nesta allowed you a moment to compose yourself as she returned to her mate just outside your home. Home. As if you could ever have truly referred to it as that. This was not a home. You hadn’t had a home since your mother passed ten years ago. Since you married Rafe and your whole world fell apart.
You had prayed. Prayed to whatever out there that would listen. Hoped and hoped that one day your salvation would arrive, that you’d be finally spared from the misery you’d been subjected to for so long. From the pain and terror and loneliness.
You hadn’t realised you were absentmindedly twisting the iron band on your ring finger until the small stone in the centre scratched at your skin. That Gods damned ring that bound you to the monster you called your husband. That iron cage that kept you as his possession instead of his love.
Yet the fear… the fear at the idea of removing it sat far too heavy in your chest. The fear of him finding you, punishing you. But he wouldn’t find you, you knew that. Rafe would never dream of crossing that veil into the Fae lands. And even if he did, you were sure he’d be eaten alive within the first breath he took in that world.
When you met Nesta and Cassian outside, they both had a satchel of their own on their shoulders; stuffed to the brim of bread and cheese and skins of water they’d raided from the kitchen.
The General nodded at you once as you approached. You wondered if you’d done anything to offend him, or perhaps he found this—you—to be an unnecessary burden to him and his day.
“Thank you,” you managed to utter, and both he and Nesta felt the pure relief and gratitude in your voice.
Cassian’s resolve softened, a sympathetic gleam in his eye and he hated himself for a moment for even considering leaving you here alone.
“It’ll take us half a day to reach the wall,” Nesta began, unmoving from Cassian’s side. “When we pass, Azriel will meet us at the border in Spring. Cassian cannot fly the both of us.”
You couldn’t help the apology that slithered up your throat. “I don’t mean to be a burden—“
But it was Cassian who growled in response, “You are not. You are family, and we don’t leave family behind.”
You walked for hours, legs sore and tired and throbbing from the stamina you lacked. But you didn’t want to stop, to ask for a break. They were kind enough to have brought you, you needn’t add any more time onto their already long journey.
So you kept your mouth shut and willed your legs to move, one in front of the other. Hours passed and you could feel that familiar panic rise in your stomach. Nightfall was approaching, which meant Rafe would surely be home by now…
You didn’t want to allow yourself to think of that. Of what he was doing after finding the home empty with nothing but your wedding band on the dresser, the only proof you ever even existed in that house.
It was Cassian who made the call to stop for a break, as though only now remembering how weak a mortal body was compared to a Fae’s—or in his case, an Illyrian.
Nesta had told you many things about her family in Prythian; the members of the Inner Circle, the beautiful city of Velaris and all the wonders it had to offer. Despite the relief you felt for leaving, the anxiety of entering the Fae lands was unmatched to anything you’d felt before.
You rested for only thirty minutes, the three of you eating your way through an entire satchel of food and two skins of water. Perhaps Nesta and Cassian were as tired as you were, though you figured not.
And by the time you reached the wall, night had surrounded you in complete darkness, nothing but a ripple in the air to suggest you had met the end of your homelands.
It was opaque for the most part, but the air seemed to glimmer and fold, as if you were looking magic dead in its face. You allowed your fingers to reach shakily for it, a fearful thought stopping you from making contact.
You turned to your cousin. “Will it hurt?”
She took your hand. “No, though when we pass through you’ll need to stay as close to Cassian and I as possible. Your scent—it’ll be a beacon to all sorts of creatures that roam freely within the Spring.”
Nesta shrugged off her jacket and handed it to you. “It’ll somewhat mask your scent. Just long enough until we meet with Azriel.”
You shoved your arms in the jacket as you put it on over your own and took Nesta’s hand again. Her eyes met yours, something akin to relief and sorrow flickering in her gaze. You didn’t want her pity. And it cleaved your heart into two knowing that you could never do anything to repay her for this, to express just how far your gratitude stretched.
Cassian and Nesta took three steps forward and as you followed, the air rippled around you…you breathed in the new life and second chance you’d been given.
But nothing could have prepared you for what awaited on the other side of the veil.
The first and only thing you saw were a set of sharp, gleaming white teeth before you were shoved to the ground with a hard thud, your head hitting against soft grass with a thump.
Snarls and grunts and shrieks surrounded you, and in the time it took to regain your bearings, Cassian and Nesta were sheathing their daggers once more as the…thing that had attacked lay dead on a field of daisies.
With eerie calmness, you assessed the creature. It was huge, twice the size of Cassian and about four times the size of you. Dark black fur covered its body and ruby red eyes that lifelessly stared into your very soul.
For some strange, obscene reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. Not as you breathed in the fresh soil beneath your feet. It felt as though your world had been turned on his axis, as if only now could you see clearly.
Then you heard it, a distant swooshing in the wind. You angled your neck toward the noise, eyes not needing to squint in the darkness as the stars illuminated the sky so beautifully.
Your brows furrowed, but you did not look away. “Something is coming.”
Both Nesta and Cassian followed your gaze then, stepping closer to your still body. The figure came closer, your initial thoughts of it being a large bird being dismissed as a pair of wings much like Cassian’s, only larger, flipped through the midnight air.
You smelt him before catching his face. Pine and wood and parchment. Mint. There was a hint of mint and something sweet like cinnamon as the glorious Illyrian landed swiftly onto the grass.
Azriel.
You remembered him, the Shadowsinger. Silver streaks of the moon casted across his brown skin as he approached swiftly, those dark and languid shadows moving across his form and snaking the earth until they halted at your feet—assessing.
“So glad you finally joined the party.” Cassian said in greeting, though Azriel paid no mind to the tone his brother offered.
Those shadows wrapped around your ankles softly, slinking your skin as they felt you out. You felt something then, a tug in the air that seemed to pull the shadows back to Azriel’s towering form.
That was when you looked at him, breath stolen from your lungs. He was beautiful. A warrior, that you could tell. Solid muscle covered every inch of him, dark black hair that sat messily on his head and swept down his forehead and brows. Hazel eyes met yours, his lips parting—no doubt at the state of your bruised face.
He was beautiful when you’d seen him previously on his brief visit to speak with Lucien… but now, it was as though you were seeing him truly–with so much clarity in your gaze it almost blinded you. Everything about this land did. 
“There are more coming, so unless you want a fight, I suggest we leave.”
His tone held no room for argument, yet he spoke in an unrushed drawl, as if these creatures were the least of his concern. He was as large as Cassian, daggers strapped to his leathers, so you supposed they likely posed little to no threat to him and his skills.
“Can you winnow?” Nesta asked.
It wasn’t lost on you how overlooked you were, despite being the reason for his presence. But like most of your life, it came as no surprise to be somewhat invisible. Cast aside. Unnoticed.
Azriel shook his head. “We’ll need to fly to the border between Autumn and Winter, from there I can winnow us back to Velaris.”
Cassian nodded, reaching for Nesta. “We’ll go first, make sure the area is safe. Follow us in five minutes.”
Nesta looked at you, a silent conversation between you both.
You’ll be okay?
I’ll be fine. If you trust Azriel then so do I.
No other words were exchanged when Cassian hauled Nesta into his arms, spread his magnificent wings and shot to the skies. You watched until they were a mere dot beside the stars before returning your attention to the Shadowsinger who was already offering you his.
“It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.” He said politely.
You wondered if he’d remembered your name from your first and last encounter almost a year ago, or if when Cassian sent word for aid he’d reminded him of it.
Either way, you offered a timid smile. “You too, Azriel. I apologise for troubling you with this. All of you.”
He shook your apology off. “It’s no bother. Are you hurt anywhere?”
You knew he wasn’t referring to bruises and cuts you already adorned. It seemed as though stepping through that veil gave you more clarity, more understanding of silent thoughts and everything else around you.
You shook your head. “No.”
“Good.” He nodded, and those shadows threatened to reach for your ankles again.
Azriel didn’t pull them back this time, only took a tentative step closer. “I apologise, they’re no threat. Not to you.”
You nodded, gaze upon them as they slinked further up your body and wrapped softly around your arms. Azriel almost bristled at the way you remained so calm. He wondered how much about him and his family you knew. He supposed Nesta had told you much through letters and such.
You didn’t reply, couldn’t bring yourself. You knew how deadly the Inner Circle could be to their enemies. And yet these shadows touched you with more softness than your husband ever did. You didn’t let that thought show on your face.
“Everything feels different on this side of the wall,” you admitted, a little breathless.
Azriel remained looking at you. “Everything feels…clearer.”
You waved the shadows off your body gently, silently shooing them back to their master.
“I’ll need to fly you like Cassian did to Nesta,” he began. “Are you afraid of heights?”
You didn’t know the answer to that. But the thought of being held by him the same way Nesta was by Cassian… that thought scared you. And not because it was Azriel, but because of the sheer closeness and intimacy that was needed for it.
You swallowed it down. “No… I don’t think so.”
He nodded, taking another step closer with an outstretched hand. “You can close your eyes if you wish, and I’ll fly slowly, I swear.”
You heard it then, the pattering of paws on the grass, of claws digging into the soil and snarls of breath into the night. You looked to Azriel, eyes a little wilder than before. He nodded, as if he already knew what you were about to say.
He held out his hand further for you to take, and you took a hold of his marred skin, calloused under your softer palm but you didn’t balk, didn’t pull away as you got a clearer view of the scars that adorned him.
Azriel hoisted you into his arms, cradling you to his chest. “The take off will be harsh, make sure you hold on tight to me.”
And he wasn’t lying. Azriel bent his knees and shoved his full weight into the earth before you both shot into the starlit skies. You didn’t close your eyes, you wanted to see everything this world had to offer. A world that was always at your fingertips but never accessible until now.
The wind seemed to whisper to you, gently caressing your bruised skin and promising a better life. A new life. As though the elements welcomed you home. 
It was only moments of uphill force until Azriel evened out and began a steady speed through the clouds. His scent enveloped you, almost overbearing as it encompassed all of your senses.
You worried for a moment then. If his scent surrounded you this way, you wondered how badly yours did to him with such heightened senses. You tried to hold your breath for longer than usual, tried to steady your heartbeat, afraid he’d hear it.
“Are you okay?” He murmured against the shell of your ear. Because even though you tried to mask it, he could sense your every feeling, your every tremor and sigh and sob.
Tears streamed down your face as he flew you both north toward the border between Autumn and Winter.
“Thank you, Azriel.” And you thanked him and thanked him and thanked him. Until your voice grew hoarse from the sobs and you let yourself realise that you were finally free.
Finally safe. 
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In the transitioning week of being escorted to the Night Court, you had hardly spoken to a soul. For the first two days, you appreciated the silence, the safety–basked in it, even. Nesta had shown you to your room in the House of Wind, an incredible home built into the walls of a large mountain that overlooked the city of Velaris. 
“Should you need anything,” Nesta had said softly, “ask the House, it listens.” 
And she had been right. The first night, you thought of a hot bubble bath and a gentle breeze had sifted through your sheer curtains, guiding you to your personal bathing chambers where a hot bath had been drawn, scents of calming lavender and jasmine coating you. 
You only saw Nesta twice after that, once when she brought you some of her favourite romance books and again, two days later when she told you Feyre and Elain sent their love and well wishes. 
She’d had the family's healer, Majda, check you over for any untreated injuries, and when she came up short she offered you a few tonics for the discomfort and encouraged you to rest before sending you back on your way.
You shouldn’t have expected more, shouldn’t have longed for more. You supposed Nesta had done her part enough–saving you from Rafe and bringing you here. And yet, despite the House tending to your needs and the souls of the romance novels…you felt just as alone as you had in the mortal lands. 
You hadn’t seen Azriel since either, nor Cassian. You didn’t have much right to ask after them, to thank them again. They had their own lives and roles to fill, you knew your rescue had been nothing more than another third-grade mission to them. 
By the fifth day, the realisation had begun to sink in. That you’d been moved from one lonely home into another. Perhaps that was the course your life was fated to take–alone, unnoticed, nothing more than a ghost in the wind, nothing worth acknowledging. 
You wrote your thoughts into your leather-bound journal, the only form of release you had for these dark emotions. Yet every time the pen lifted from the parchment, you felt heavier than you had before. 
You were yet to leave your bedroom, often sitting at the window seat that overlooked the lights of the city, wondering what life awaited down there. Wondered if you’d ever get the opportunity to explore it. Nesta had mentioned that the House was warded from winnowing, the only way out was to fly or descend the ten thousand stairs. 
But you couldn’t fly, and you wouldn’t make the steps down either. You weren’t a prisoner, you knew that. But Nesta had done her part, saving you, bringing you to her and Cassian’s home. You were not her responsibility, not anyones. 
Yet, you couldn’t help but feel trapped, restricted. Moved from one stone building and into another. Perhaps that was what finally made you venture out of your room, barefeet padding across the cool floors.
You followed the winding staircase to a lower level, noting the ornate furniture that decorated the large space. A crackling hearth caught your attention, so inviting and warm in front of a plush couch. The House seemed to beckon you to it, a gentle breeze against the backs of your bare legs and it made your short nightgown sway. 
Following it, you sat on the couch and a thick blanket materialised and draped itself over your legs at the same time a steaming mug of tea and a new romance novel appeared on the table beside you. 
You smiled softly, warmth spreading in your chest as you thanked the House. 
An hour or so had passed, not that you were for certain, but the House remained silent. Nothing but sips of your tea and flipping of pages could be heard along with the crackling of the hearth. 
For a moment, you felt at peace in your own company. Completely content for this time to sit and read and know you wouldn’t receive a beating or worse for it. You stretched out your back, stifling a yawn as a pair of soft footsteps greeted your ears. 
Your eyes widened, an unnecessary apology already on the tip of your tongue, though for what you weren’t sure. That had become the norm for you, apologising for your every breath. 
But it was not Rafe that stepped out of the shadows, of course not. It was Azriel, in all his glory, wings tucked neatly behind his back and you counted the seven blue siphons that adorned his leathers. 
“Azriel,” you breathed, a sheepish smile on your face. 
Finally, some company. Someone to acknowledge your presence and to perhaps converse with. You shuffled on the couch, making to put your book down but all Azriel did was give you a terse nod in greeting and a thin smile before walking down the hall and out of your sight. 
It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. You should be used to this by now. You were used to it. But you couldn’t control that tiny thread of hope in your chest that things could be different. That you could be accepted and wanted and noticed. 
For the eighth night in a row, you were left in the dark with nothing but the crippling loneliness and aching of your soul to keep you company. 
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A/N: Thank you for reading!! This is the first instalment of this mini-series that I literally got the idea for two days ago lol. It'll be around 5/6 parts, smut will come and a few twists you won't expect!! Unfortunately I'm unable to get my old page back (rhysazriel), which means most of my previous writings have been lost but I'll likely repost the ones I have saved in my google docs in the late future (plug!az being one of them.)
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If you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a like and reblog, your feedback is always appreciated!! <3
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jack-abbot · 11 days ago
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"The Empire cannot win. You'll never feel right unless you're doing what you can to stop them. You're coming home to yourself. You've become more than your fear. Let that protect you."
DIEGO LUNA as CASSIAN ANDOR in Andor, Season 2 [1/4] 2x01 — "One Year Later" 2x02 — "Sagrona Teema" 2x03 — "Harvest"
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