#cassian x female reader

[bldhrry]

gold rush

Cassian x Fem!Reader Summary: After stopping your father from clipping your wings, Rhysand offers you refuge in Velaris at the House of Wind. Living with Cassian isn't terrible but he is loud and annoying and overly interested in you. Despite his overbearing nature, you can't help but start to fall for him. Masterlist

warnings: cursing, abuse, suggestive language, kissing

word count: 9.2k

author's note: lil cass slow burn! hope you like it n lmk what you think!

When you woke that morning with blood soaking your sheets and legs you knew you stood no chance against the expectations of females in the village.  You hid your ruined bed sheets and night clothes in your closet and despite an hour in the bath, your scent was simply too strong and your father pieced it together quickly.

The start of an Illyrian female’s cycle was the death of her wings and you were desperate to save them.  You loved your wings; they were unlike any of the other villagers.  Unlike their dark brown, yours were a reddish pink and the sun shone through them easily revealing all the intricate veins that hid beneath the skin.

Your father chased you around the house and despite efforts to dodge his attacks, he cornered you in the kitchen and before you knew it he had your hair in his fist, dragging you to the village square.  You were to be made an example to the other females in the camp that this was inevitable and although you were the daughter of a camp lord you were not an exception to the culture.  Your wings were not meant to be used; they were simply decorations and nothing more.

You had put up a fight, kicking and screaming and scratching your father and when you had managed to escape his grasps, the other lords were quick to tackle and pin you down.  A few received bites and threats, but this wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle.  This was an almost everyday occurrence.

Your father threw you on to the stone pavement and you rose to your hands and knees and tried to scramble away but he grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards him and flipping you around.

“I fucking hate you,” you snarled at him, kicking his stomach.

It was raining so bad you could barely see what was going on but you felt him release his grip on you but it was quickly replaced by another set of hands and your father made his way behind you.  He grabbed the talon on your left wing and pulled you up so you were on your knees and through the rain you could see the glint of the knife he held in his hand.

You started to cry, your tears mixing with the rain that was pouring down your face.  “Please,” you begged, twisting in his grasp.  

You tried keeping your wings tucked in so he wouldn’t be able to destroy them, but it was to no avail as he forced them open and pierced it with his knife.

You screamed and fell forward on to your chest.  Whoever had been grabbing you was gone and you crawled away from your father, the knife still lodged in your wing.  He maintained his grip and the more you moved, the more the knife ran down the muscles, tearing them apart.

The rain was so loud you didn’t hear the footsteps approaching or the voice that demanded your father to stop.  But you felt it.  The knife was ejected and you felt the weight of your father off your back.  You didn’t stop to see what had happened.  You pushed yourself up to your knees and stumbled; your left wing couldn’t move, throwing you off balance so you staggered forward, trying to find some place to hide but the rain made your visibility almost nonexistent.

A hand, large and firm, grabbed your wrist and without thinking you whirled around, your fist connecting with a nose.  The movement threw you off balance again and you stumbled backwards into someone else, this time their chest.  They tried to straighten you, but again, you raised your fist and swung, but whoever it was had a quicker reflex than the previous person and grabbed your wrist mid air.

“I’m here to help.”  The voice was deep, but elegant.

You tried to pull back, but their grip was too strong.  “Get the fuck away from me,” you growled.

They stepped closer to you and you squinted and as their face came into view you let out a small gasp.

It was Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court.

Rhysand, with his arm around you to support your weight, and his male companion took you to the healer and there you sat as the healer promised you that the wing would heal and you would still be able to fly.

The male companion, who you had recognized in the faelight was Cassian, the Court’s General.

“You pack one hell of a punch, sweetheart.”  He laughed and pushed more tissue into his nostrils. 

You had fractured his nose and his face was already starting to bruise.  You should’ve felt bad and apologized, but you didn’t.  You weren’t sorry and in fact you were proud of yourself for leaving marks on every single person who had attacked and put their hands on you today.  

And maybe, just maybe, Cassian should have not grabbed you so aggressively given the situation.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Rhysand said from across the room.  He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.  He was pissed and he made no attempt to hide it.  Despite the law forbidding wing clipping, the practice was still widespread amongst the villages.  You were lucky he was visiting that day and that your father was stupid enough to do it while he was there.

You didn’t say anything and you weren’t going to thank him either.  He needed to do a better job at preventing this.

So, you let out a breath of annoyance through your nose and straightened yourself, looking into his violet eyes.  “Thank you for doing what is expected of you, my Lord.”  You drawled out his title, narrowing your eyes at him.  This was the one thing he said he would do and yet almost every female in the village had their wings clipped.

Rhysand’s face flushed and he looked down in shame.

Cassian let out a laugh of surprise earning a glare from Rhysand.  But Cassian didn’t care.  He was in pure awe of you; in awe of the fight you put up, the strength of your punch, and your confidence of chastising the High Lord.  You showed no fear, just rage.

The healer gave you an ointment to put on your wing nightly and sent you home, but as you left you stopped, looking around.  Your father was receiving his punishment along with the other lords and you knew if you went home it would be chaos.  Your mother was gone and you had no other family.  You had no home left.

“I take it you have no other family in Windhaven?”  Rhysand stood next to you, his hands in his pockets.  His gaze was soft, sympathetic, and incredibly apologetic.

You didn’t want to let him see your fear and sadness so you scowled up at him.  “No.”

“I have more than enough room at the House of Wind in Velaris.  You are welcome to have a home there.”  Seeing your apprehension, he quickly continued.  “If you wish of course.  It is the least I can do.”

You grunted.  It was, actually.  And you really did need a place to stay.  You accepted his outstretched hand and he winnowed you away to your new home and your new life.

You lived with Cassian and Azriel in the House of Wind.  They were incredibly kind and good roommates even if they both left their dishes out and never cleaned up after themselves and put their feet up on the coffee table.  Okay, maybe they weren’t the best or the cleanest, but at least they were kind and you enjoyed their company.

Your room was on the opposite side of the House from where their rooms were.  You claimed it was because you wanted your own space, but really it was to avoid another awkward run in with an almost naked Illyrian.

Azriel was your favorite.  He was quiet, kept to himself, and cleaner than Cassian.  Every time he spoke it was with a purpose and you appreciated that.  You hated nonsensical conversations and that’s the one thing you hated about Cassian.  

He had a lot to say about nothing.  He asked stupid questions and never stopped talking; you didn’t think you had ever seen him sit in silence.  He asked you what you did with your day and when you responded with a one word answer he’d ask you for details; he asked about the books you were reading and what they were about and you wouldn’t have minded this had it not been when you were actively reading.

“How was your day today, sweetheart?”  He bounded into the kitchen and you could’ve sworn the walls shook.  He always called you that and it was obnoxious but you could tell in the tone of his voice it meant nothing more than a friendly pet name.

“Nothing.”

“Just nothing?”  He sat across from you.

You were reading yet another novel and was attempting to have a peaceful, quiet lunch.

“Yes,” you huffed your response hoping he would get the hint you wanted to be left alone.

But Cassian was stupidly oblivious.  “What exactly does ‘nothing’ entail?”

“It means I did nothing.”  You looked up and gave him a deadpan stare.  “I read and went to the library.”

He smirked.  “That’s not nothing.”  He chuckled at your frown.  “I love when you make that face.”

“I’m glad I amuse you.”  You looked back down at your book, sighing.

“You do.”  

There was something about his tone and the way he said it that made you look up and he was looking at you with an unreadable expression.  Something like sadness, and maybe longing, flashed in his eyes and for the brief second you tried to decipher it you were struck at how beautiful his eyes were.  They were hazel with more green than brown and if you looked closely enough they had a sheen about them that made them seem alive with mischief.

He quickly composed himself and flashed her a lopsided grin.  “I actually think you’re very funny.”

You raised an eyebrow at him.  “How interesting.”

He eventually left, claiming he was tired and wanted to take a nap but as you read your mind drifted to that look in his eyes.  It cut you inside and you felt an unfamiliar feeling spread in your chest.

Rhysand offered you a place in his Court and his Inner Circle after six months of living there.  He would have asked sooner, but wanted to give you time to settle in and look at him with something other than distaste.

You didn’t hate Rhysand.  You just wished he did a better job at protecting his people.  Wing clipping was cruel and stripped away all autonomy that Illyrian females had, forcing them to rely on the males in their life.  It kept them trapped in an endless cycle of oppression.

You knew it had to be difficult, hell maybe even impossible, to regulate all camps and enforce the law.  You were rational in that thought process and you couldn’t fault him for that; he was trying his best.  But that didn’t mean you couldn’t be angry for yourself and for every female across Illyria.

He made you Cassian’s “Second” despite the fact that you had no formal battle training or knew nothing about how the camps worked outside of the domestic duties of a home.  You hadn’t even been born during the war with Hybern.  You were essentially a glorified assistant with a seemingly important title.  Your job was to accompany Cassian during his visits, or rather inspection, of the camps and check for compliance and the status of the training and would be warriors, and hopefully soon, the integration of females into the training ring.

This, you scoffed at.  If Rhysand couldn’t stop wing clipping then how the hell did he think he would be able to force the camp lords to allow females to train?

You didn't care to ask questions, you were just grateful for a job and something to do.  There was only so much to do at the House and in the city and you were bored.  You had essentially become a librarian with how well you knew the library.

After saying your goodbyes after dinner you were about to fly back to the House when movement to your right caught your eye and Cassian was running after you, a boyish smile lighting up his face.

“Are you excited to be working together?”  He breathlessly asked when he came up to you.

You gave him a sarcastic look and smiled.  “Enthusiastic.”

His smile faltered and for a brief moment you felt bad, but his face lit back up and he grinned at you.  “Well, I think if we’re going to be working together at the camps then you need to learn how to fight.  What do you think?”

You mulled this over for a few seconds and shrugged.  “I was never allowed to, so I’m not going to be any good at it.”

He waved dismissively.  “That’s fine.”  Then he leaned towards you, that stupid grin on his face, and much to your disbelief you found yourself tilting your head up, your faces inches apart.  “I like a challenge.”

His tone was playful but at the same time it wasn’t.  Hidden beneath those four words was a promise.  A promise of what, you couldn’t pinpoint, but the way he said it, his voice raspy and dropping an octave made your heart skip a beat and your breath catch in your throat, a familiar heat rushing through your veins.  He seemed to notice this, his eyes glancing ever so quickly, but slow enough you noticed, between your eyes and lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow bright and early at six.”  

Training was fucking awful for both you and Cassian.  You thought too much about your movements, double guessing yourself which resulted in your stumbling and falling or a strike from Cassian.  Wielding a sword and dagger was uncomfortable and felt so unnatural that you had thrown down the ones Cassian gave you a half hour into training.  You preferred hand to hand combat much to Cassian’s dismay.  The more you trained and the stronger you got, so did your punches and kicks and while he tried to hide the bruises, he couldn’t hide the limping to his room after your sessions.

“You need to stop thinking so hard and just trust your gut.”  Cassian told you.  

It was a hot Summer day and the sun was relentless as you sweated under its hot rays.  Cassian had repeated himself at least six times by now and you were getting so frustrated.  He kept coming at you so fast and hard that you didn’t have time to register his movements.  And when he did slow down and gave you some space you spent too much time considering his next move that by the time you decided on how to counter, he had already knocked you down.

“If I trust my gut then I would just throw you off the fucking balcony.”

He laughed loudly and shook his head.  You were brash and quick witted and sometimes he would press your buttons just to hear what insult and remark you'd come up with.  You were incredibly creative with them.

You two had been training for three months at this point and you actually weren’t that bad considering how awful you were in the beginning.  He didn’t mind teaching you how to fight and in fact he knew you enjoyed the routine.  You were always on time and if he looked hard enough he could see a glimmer of excitement in your eyes.  He liked that you always had questions that even followed him out of the ring and he particularly enjoyed the way you sought him when you found something interesting in the countless books he had given you on the art of war and fighting.

You two hadn’t gotten closer so to speak, but you were tolerating his presence a little better than before.  As of recently you didn’t mind his pointless talking and incessant questions.  He had a loud personality but it suited him well; a big personality for a big male.

He was conventionally attractive and on the first day of training when you had entered the training ring, he was already there finishing his warm up shirtless and sweaty.  It had taken your breath away; he wasn’t just good looking, but he was downright sexy.  He was beautifully built with broad shoulders and extremely prominent muscles.  His hair, jet black, touched his shoulders in waves and his skin was a flawless brown that seemed to glow no matter the lighting.  His face was chiseled, resembling a god, and you found yourself admiring it while he was busying himself with preparing whatever he had planned for the day.

You hated that you started to notice all of this and the way it made you feel.  Sometimes he would catch you looking at him, your eyes fierce and aflame with something he couldn’t name.  You didn’t mean to look at him with such discontent, but you were discontented.  He was gorgeous and you liked him.  You liked him a lot.  You liked his childish and crude sense of humor and his contagious laugh.  You liked the way his brow came together when he was concentrating and the way he shifted on his feet when he was thinking.  

Cassian liked you too.  You were gorgeous with thick hair that reached your mid back with cheekbones that were high and round and a slightly pointed chin; your face resembled the shape of a heart.  Your body was unlike anything he had seen before; you had gained a lot of muscle since you had started training and it filled you out in places that he was ashamed to look at.  You had a naturally round body with wide hips and thighs and a slightly slim waist; your chest was big and your shoulders wide.  But his favorite feature were your eyes; they constantly had an analytical look to them like you could see through everything and everyone.  You regarded him with a mixture of interest and indifference and while he couldn’t figure out exactly how you felt about him, he took what he could get and tried his hardest to get and keep your attention.

It was a bit pathetic how hard he tried with you.  He followed you around like a lost, starving dog, and the only time he was fed was when you looked and talked to him.  The conversations were always short and you never cared to entertain him with a discussion that had no end goal or a discussion that wasn’t started by you.  You were selfish in that way but he would take what he could get.  Which really wasn’t a lot but he didn’t mind.

You both never forgot that night on the front lawn of Rhysand’s townhouse.  Cassian thought of the way your eyes widened and you leaned into him ever so slightly when he did the same and the way your lips, full and slightly pink, parted when he spoke.  You also thought of the way Cassian had smiled at you, a mix of joy and seduction, and his eyes, usually a light hazel, were a dark amber that seemed to see your soul in ways that made you want to hide.  In your darkest moments you thought of his voice and his breath fanning your face and the way he said those four words made your knees wobbly and you gut tightened.

Cassian didn’t just mean it in the sense that it would be difficult to train you given your inexperience but also in the sense that he knew you would be difficult to get to know.  He also knew it would be a challenge to get you to like him, both platonically and romantically.  Whether you consciously knew it, you were guarded and armed to the teeth with walls so thick nobody had yet to learn anything about you.  You chose your words carefully, but not your facial expressions.  You were quick to let Cassian know in little and polite words that you didn’t care about what he was talking about, but your face said you would rather bang your head on the table than hear him speak about the bird that took a shit on his wing as he flew to meet Rhysand and Azriel.  

“No training tomorrow,” Cassian told you as you walked out of the ring.

You had a better session today ending with you only falling once and Cassian dodging all of your jabs.

“Oh.”

Cassian could’ve sworn you sounded disappointed.

“Why?”  You finally asked halfway up the steps to the House.

“I have an assignment in Windhaven.”

You stopped on the steps and he turned to look at you.  Your eyes were sharp as they narrowed on him and he suddenly felt very naked under your stare.  He could see the gears turning in your head as you took in the information.

“Shouldn’t I be going with you?”  You finally asked after a few seconds.

It was his turn to give you a look, cocking his head to the side.  “If you want to, I guess.”

You resumed your walk up the steps, brushing past his arm and he sucked in a breath at the contact.  “Well, I think I have the right to go given we are supposed to be working together.  Right?”

“That is very true, sweetheart.”

“Yes I know.  That’s why I said it.”  A few moments passed before you spoke again.  “Why didn’t you ask me?”  Your voice was soft as you two walked into the kitchen.

He stopped in the doorway and watched as you grabbed two cups from the cupboard and filled them with water.

“I didn’t think you’d want to go.  It wasn’t anything personal, I promise.”

You hummed and leaned against the counter.  “I know it wasn’t; you’re not that kind of person.  But,” you raise your eyes to him, “it would have been nice to be asked.  I have a job here too.”

You’re not that kind of person.  The statement took his breath away and you tried to figure out why he was looking at you so bewildered.

“I’m sorry,” he gave you a soft smile and lowered his head.  His face shifted and his eyes grew mischievous and his smile turned into a grin.  His stance relaxed and he crossed one foot over the other.  “If I didn’t know any better, sweetheart, I would think you wanted to spend time with me.”

You scowled and he reveled in the way your face contorted when he annoyed you.  And you did it often.

“Well, it’s a good thing you do.”

You two left early in the morning before the sun had risen and flew in silence to the camp.  You loved flying, especially so early in the morning; the world was so quiet and peaceful and the only life around were the birds who let you fly so close to them you could see your reflection in their eyes.

You never truly felt at peace for some reason.  Your body was always wounded up with stress and anxiety and the anticipation of whatever the day was going to bring, but when you were in the sky nothing mattered but the sun on your face and the wind whispering in your ears.

Cassian could see how relaxed you were.  A smile ghosted your features and it was probably one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.  He was looking at you so intensely that he didn’t notice he was leaning towards you until he bumped your wing with his.  

You snapped out of your trance and side eyed him and he chuckled.  “Sorry.”

You rolled your eyes.  “First time flying?”

He blushed and bit his lip.  No, he wanted to say, just looking at the most beautiful thing in the world.  But he didn’t.  Instead, he just straightened himself and led the way.

After another two hours of flying you two landed on the doorstep of Rhysand mother’s house.

“After you,” Cassian held the door open and you walked in.

It was an appropriate size with a living room and two rooms to the left and a kitchen to the right and a set of worn stairs in front of you.  A fire was already going in the hearth and it left a warm glow on the furniture and walls.

The size of the house suddenly shrunk as Cassian walked in.  His hair grazed the ceiling and he had to turn sideways to get through the door frame.  It was a comical scene and to his surprise you laughed, your head tilting back and your eyes squeezing shut.  He stilled, his hand still on the doorknob.  You looked stunning.

“What is so funny?”  Cassian shut the door and leaned against it.

“You look ridiculous.  You are too big for this house.”  You bit your lip and clasped your hands together, trying but failing to suppress another laugh.

“And that’s funny to you?”  He raised an eyebrow.

“No,” your face stilled and you grew serious, standing straighter and brushing your hair over your shoulder.  But it quickly dissolved as you let out a snort and covered your mouth, turning away.

He did look insane in this house and you weren’t sure why you found it so funny.  You were aware he was freakishly tall and built like a bull, but the House of Wind was so big it made him look an average size.  But here, in this normal sized cottage for normal sized people, he looked so out of place and his indifference to it all was hilarious.

“I’m glad my vertical condition amuses you, sweetheart.”  He brushed past you taking your bag to your room and to your shock he took his bag to the room next to yours.

“Our rooms are next to each other?”

And without looking at you, Cassian said, “yeah so be careful bringing anyone over; the walls are so thin.”

You hadn’t seen your father since you had moved to Velaris and you were glad for it.  You never liked him; he was mean and cruel and had driven your mother to madness and eventually her death.  You had never forgiven him for that or any of his misdeeds for that matter.  Sometimes you fantasized about his death and how much relief you would feel knowing he was burning in hell, paying for his sins.

You sat across from him during the meeting with the camp lords.  You wore traditional fighting leathers and like Cassian you had a sword strapped to your back.  In reality you didn’t know how to use it or how to fight, really, but appearances mattered with males who thought they were better than everyone and it mattered to you for them to know just how good you were doing.

Your father’s stare was overbearing as he took in your clothes and weapons and the hard set look in your eyes.  You looked just like your mother and he hated that.

“We are just here to oversee the training of the warriors and your preparations for the Blood Rite.”  Cassian had an easy going, but threatening smile.

He knew these people hated him.  They hated that he was a bastard; they hated how powerful he was; and they hated that he was above them, giving them orders and commands.

Devlon frowned at Cassian.  “We have 200 warriors.  They train from dawn to dusk.  And nearly all of them have qualified for the Rite.  What else is there to see?”

Cassian shrugged, rubbing his siphons.  The red glow was enchanting and intimidating.  “The specifics of our visit are on a need to know basis; I hope you understand.”  His smile was sent a chill up her spine.

Devlon’s frown grew but he knew better than to argue.  “Fine,” he sighed and waved his hand in a dismissive nature.  “Just don’t bother them while they train.”

And with that the group disbanded.  You got up along with Cassian and nodded to everyone.  They didn’t bother to look you in the eye or say goodbye as they left, but you kept your head high and your hands folded in front of you.  This made you appear strong, but in reality you were hiding your shaking hands.

When they all left you let out a shaky breath and cleared your throat, sitting back down in your chair.  You wrapped your wings around your shoulders, cocooning yourself within them.

“You okay?”  Cassian’s voice was soft and he placed a hand in between your shoulder blades.

His touch was warm and soft despite the calluses on his hands and you found yourself wanting to lean into it and maybe even ask for more.  Instead you moved away from it and cleared your throat, tucking your wings in and standing up.  

Facing him, you gave him a tight lipped smile and nodded.  “Of course.”

You two strolled through the camp after the meeting.  You weren’t really here to oversee the training, but to see about properly implementing the law banning wing clipping.  Since you had left, nobody else had been subjected to that abuse but it was only a matter of time that someone did it, causing a domino effect and it would come back in full swing.

You had only been here a day and you already wanted to leave.  It was dull and sad here and looking up at the sky you couldn’t help but let out a groan.  You missed the sun in Velaris; in Windhaven the sky was always gray and dark like this place was destined to be constantly punished by the gods.

“That bad huh?”  Cassian had noticed that you had not smiled once or chastised him for being annoying since arriving.  You weren’t sure which one concerned him the most.

“It just sucks here.”  The response was juvenile and it made him smile.

“I hate it too.”

You knew of Cassian the warrior, but nothing else except for what you saw at the House.  And it hit you in that moment you had never thought to ask and it made you stop in your tracks and you pushed out your bottom lip and squinted up at him.  “Why?”

The question threw Cassian off.  You had never asked him anything about his personal life.

“Bad memories.”  He shrugged.  “I lost my mother young and was tossed here having to beg for scraps.”  He had a far away look in his eyes and your heart lurched in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” and you meant it.

By the fifth day of the “mission,” you two had come to the conclusion that trusting the camp lords to enforce the ban was futile and that a permanent position in overseeing it was necessary.  You had known that from the start and reminded Cassian of such with a sarcastic, “I told you so.”

Cassian was writing out his report for Rhysand and you were laid out on the couch, a book in your hands.  He had made little to no progress on completing it; he kept getting distracted by you.

You were laying on your stomach with your head propped up with one hand and the other cradling the book and your leg hiked up, making your backside more prominent than it already was.  It was a crazy sight and his head was dizzy every time he beheld you.  You were completely enthralled in your book that you did not notice how tightly he was gripping the papers in his hand or the way his knee bounced furiously and the way he shifted ever so slightly in his seat.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how soft your skin would be beneath his hands or the way you would react to his touch, your back arching slightly and your breath coming out in soft pants.  You were playing with your lip as you read and he admired their color and fullness and then he pondered how they would feel against his and how you would taste as he swallowed your moans.  He could picture it clear as day and it scared him slightly how vivid and real you existed in his mind.  Cassian was so trapped in his thoughts that he didn’t hear you calling out to him or hear you walk up to him.

He jerked when you touched his shoulders and you saw how crazed his eyes looked, wide and his pupils blown, drowning out the green and leaving gold in its wake.  

“You okay?”  You asked, your brow furrowed together in concern.

He had been so quiet all night and it worried you.  He was usually talkative and aggravating but he hadn’t said a word since you two settled in the living room.  He was staring at the papers but it was like he was seeing through them and his leg was bouncing a mile a minute.  You worried you had upset him by asking about his past and you thought of apologizing but you didn’t want to bring it up again and upset him even more.

So instead you opted to leave it to him to tell you if something was wrong.

Your hand was still on Cassian’s shoulder and your face was so close that your hair tickled his arm and he sucked in a deep breath and your scent filled his senses, making his nostrils flare.  You smelled like lavender mixed with pine.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, placing the papers on his lap and prayed that it concealed his erection.

He leaned away slightly, hoping that some distance would calm his nerves and you noticed it, feeling your heart sink.

You jutted your bottom lip out slightly and exhaled through your nose, straightening but keeping your hand on his shoulder.  “Okay.  I was just checking.”

Your eyes locked with his and he still had a look that was a mixture of disbelief and fear and it made you look at him even harder and you found yourself leaning, invading his space again.

Cassian stilled so much he wasn’t even sure if he was breathing anymore.  His skin felt so tight and his pants even more so.  He could feel his blood pump through his veins and his heart was shuddering with every beat.  You were so, so close that it sent an irrational fear through him; anything could happen right now and a million scenarios ran through his mind, all of them including you and him kissing and what happened after that varied.

Leave him be.  Back up.  Go to bed.  The thoughts were so loud but you didn’t move.  You were entirely entranced by his gaze and you were rooted in place.  He smelled like the aftermath of a forest fire, the air thick with smoke clouding your vision and making its home in your lungs.  You felt like you were in a haze of him and you couldn’t find your way out and honestly, you didn’t want to.  It was comfortable and warm and oddly safe.

You barely heard yourself over the roar in your ears as you asked Cassian once again if he was okay, but you definitely heard the way he rasped out his response.  It was a stangled “yes” and your entire body grew hot, so much so your vision tunneled and you could only see him.

His response wasn’t just a direct answer to your question.  It was a response to the unspoken questions floating between you two and he hoped you had understood that.  It was also a plea, a one word beg for you to close the distance and let him lose himself in you.  He didn’t just want it, but he needed it.  He had this ache in his chest since the day he met you that no amount of times he thought about you while he pumped himself into oblivion could quell it.  He begged Rhysand to give you a position that would keep you close to him and you didn’t need to train in order to work with him but he made up that excuse so he could spend even more time with you.  And it was worth it even if you gave him a blank stare when he said something ridiculous or when you snapped at him for bothering you.

And this closeness was only making it worse.  You were so close but so far and he didn’t want to do something that made you uncomfortable and shatter whatever you felt for him, if you did at all.  So he stayed where he was, letting you make the decision, praying it was the one where you kissed him.

But to his utter disappointment, you released the grip on his shoulder and pulled away, giving him a pained smile.

“Okay.”  You exhaled, expelling the thoughts and feelings and his scent from your body and mind.  “Goodnight, Cassian.”  And as you walked to your room, leaving him reeling from this three minute encounter, you turned and gave him another smile.  “If you need to talk just let me know.”  

He gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and felt like he was being stabbed.  “Of course.  You too.”

Neither of you slept that night.  

He spent an hour in the bathroom, making himself finish three times and even then he couldn’t get his erection to go away.  You had stood so close to him that he could see the brown that flickered in your eyes and every pore on your face and even now he could smell you on him, like it was clinging to his skin, taunting him.

You didn’t rest either.  The bed was uncomfortable and the room was too hot and the blankets made you itch.  You couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes and the way his lips were parted just enough you could imagine your tongue snaking its way in, claiming it.  If you allowed the thought to fester, which you did, you could see yourself moving against and feel his arms around your waist helping you reach your climax and you could also see his eyes, with their pupils blown, staring into yours, encouraging you.  

You made the fantasy stop there.  This was ridiculous.  You were being ridiculous.  You couldn’t say why or rationally curse yourself for these thoughts and feelings, but this was wrong and just couldn’t happen.  

It was unrealistic anyway, really.  Cassian had lived a life you couldn’t even begin to fathom and though he could act like he knew nothing, he actually knew a lot.  He always had an answer to your questions and could go on and on about the endless strategic tactics used when fighting.  You could listen to him all day if you could.

You were a camp lord’s daughter from a village that hated the existence of your gender.  Your education had been cut short and you were forced to teach yourself basic arithmetic and reading beyond a grade school level.  Your dreams were crushed beneath your father’s boot and any flame of ambition was snuffed out and replaced with patriarchal propaganda.  You were a nobody wanting a somebody.

You two were complete opposites but were the same in your insecurity: thinking you weren’t enough for each other.

The tension between you and Cassian was so thick that Azriel started to sleep at Rhysand’s townhouse.

You and Cassian still had your morning training sessions but you both pulled your punches and kept your distance which ruined the point of training.

You were avoiding him, too.  He still looked for you during breakfast and lunch and made unformatable small talk.  You couldn’t bear it and after a few days you started taking your food in your room.

You did want to be around him and hear whatever nonsense came out of his mouth and his pointless questions because you had a gripe with how you felt about him.  You felt stupid with the way your mind became foggy when he was near and how you stared at him when he wasn’t looking and most of all how your body came alive when you saw him.  It was embarrassing and you hoped by spending less time with him it would go away.

You hated crushes.  They were childish and pointless especially when pining after someone like Cassian.  You knew so many people wanted him and it was evident the few times you had gone to the city with him.  Females and even some males were shameless in the way their eyes trailed his body and the way they openly flirted with him when they stopped him in the streets.  You never felt jealous about this because you completely understood the appeal but you knew with how many people he could choose to be with, you wouldn’t be the one he wanted.

Cassian noticed the way you would scurry away when he came into the room and stiffened when he spoke to you and it broke his heart.  It aggravated him to degrees he didn’t think was possible.  You had no reason to avoid him unless you were put off by the night in the cottage and you didn’t like him anymore, if you ever did.  Maybe you were tired of being around him and the way you seemed to detest his presence prior was real and you finally got sick of it.  He wasn’t sure but he missed you in a way that was foreign to him; he missed your scowl and raised eyebrow that said ‘are you fucking serious?’  He also missed the way you would curl up on the couch, with your feet tucked in underneath you, and smile at whatever you were reading, holding your lip between your fingers.  But he especially missed your eyes and how they saw him.  You saw him in a way that was entirely too personal despite you never asking him a question; it was like you could see every single thing about him and sometimes he could see a glimmer of acceptance dancing in them.

He thought about that night in Windhaven and the way you looked at him with concern and a hint of need.  The scent of your arousal that night mixed in with your natural scent followed him wherever he went.  He would smell it at the most random moments and he was ashamed to admit that it caused a physical reaction that left him biting his lip and stifling his moans and no matter how often came, your name falling from his lips, the craving for you never ceased.  It was driving him crazy.  He had never felt like this before and he knew that even if he had you, it still wouldn’t be enough.  He had the idea that he would never not need and want you.

You had been eating a snack in the kitchen when Cassian sauntered in.  He had seen you when he had walked past and decided to essentially trap you so he could get just a few minutes of conversation.  He missed your voice.

You didn’t hear him come in but you felt his presence immediately.  It was powerful and filled the room and seeped into your pores, making you flush with heat.  Your body tensed at it and you glanced up and he was already looking at you, that stupid grin on his face.

“Hey.”  It was a greeting but a dismissive one as you looked back down at your book.

“Hello.”  

You could hear the smile and joy in your voice and you just knew he was going to bother you despite seeing you preoccupied.  You closed your eyes and inhaled through your nose waiting for the avalanche of bullshit that was going to spew from his mouth.

From the corner of your eyes you could see him brace against the counter and scan you.  Your body tensed even more.

After a few seconds Cassian sucked in a breath and bit the bullet.  “Why are you avoiding me?”

The question was unexpected and you looked up at him and frowned.  “I’m not avoiding you.”

“Yes you are.”

“No.  I am not.”  You punctuated each word hoping he would understand those simple, yet clear, four words.

“You are,” and before the scowl could take root in your face he added, “we don’t hang out anymore.”

“We never did to begin with.”

“Fine, you don’t let me hang out with you.”  Now that was more accurate.

You shrugged.  “I’ve been busy.”

“Doing what?  Walking the house and the city and reading?”  His words were dripping with annoyance and sarcasm.

“What I do is none of your concern, Cassian.”

He made a noncommittal noise and sighed through his nose.  You noticed the way his shoulders sagged slightly and he took his cheek in between his teeth.  “You don’t want to be around me anymore.”

You scoffed.  What the fuck?  “You’re being absurd.”

“Fine, then let’s hang out.  We can go to the city.”

You gave him a blank stare and looked back down at your book.  “I’m busy.”

“You’re eating crackers and reading.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose.  This was stupid.  He was being stupid.  “This is being busy for me.”  You gestured to your book and before he could counter you added, “and frankly, Cassian, if you’re taking this personally that’s just not my problem.  If you think I’m avoiding you, then maybe, you should take the fucking hint.”  Your eyes were hard as they stared into him with such conviction he stepped back even further into the kitchen counter.

He made a small noise that you could only discern as shock and a little bit of anguish, but it was quickly replaced with narrowing eyes and a set jaw.  “You’re a fucking bitch.”

This made you roar with laughter and you got up, pushing your chair back behind you.  “Excuse me?  What the fuck is your problem?”

“I try to be nice and do you a favor and be your friend and you act like it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world!”  He didn’t mean to get loud with you but he was so tired of being rejected.

“Do me a favor?”  You took a step forward.  “I never asked.  You did that on your own.  And have you considered that maybe I don’t care to be more than your roommate?  Have you considered that maybe it’s not all about you?”

He matched the distance you took towards him.  “And why is that, sweetheart?”

Because I like you.  Because whenever I’m with you I feel like I can’t breathe.  Because I want you so much I feel like my body is going to explode.

But you didn’t say that.  It was too beneath you to be that pathetic over a male.  “Because I don’t care about you.”

This stung Cassian, bad.  And Azriel and Rhysand, who had been eavesdropping, grimaced at the blow.

Cassian cleared his throat and he felt tears starting to sting his eyes.  “Well, sweetheart, that is not very nice is it?”

It wasn’t and it wasn’t the truth but the actual truth would make it too real.  You had been pining for him for months and if you said it, confronted it, spoke it into existence, and he rejected you then…you didn’t even want to consider the aftermath.  You hated the feeling of falling because you knew sooner or later you knew you would crash and hit the ground.

“I’m sorry the truth hurts, Cassian.”

Cassian took another step towards you and he was so close your chests were touching and you had to tilt your head up to look at him.

“You don’t mean that.”

You let out a breathless laugh.  “I just said it, so yeah, I mean it.”

“You don’t.”

“By the cauldron, Cassian,” you hissed and his eyes widened slightly.  “I don’t owe you shit.  So, do me a favor and fuck off.”  You turned to leave and he grabbed your wrist.

He scowled and sucked his teeth.  “You’re a fucking coward, you know that?”

You made a face, a ‘what the fuck are you talking about’ face, and it made Cassian smirk.  He loved it when you did that.

“Look me in the eyes and say that shit.”  

The demand startled you.  Not because of what he said, but because of how he said it.  Full of anger and rage and a slight twinge of despair.  His eyes were hard and dark as they bore into your soul and you sucked in a breath.  You knew he was seeing right through you and through the lies that were falling from your lips.

And it was true.  You hadn’t looked at him every time you took a jab at him.  Instead you opted to look around his face or close your eyes in feign annoyance.  This would be your downfall because the longer you looked into his eyes the more you felt like you were drowning, being pulled under and covered in the green and gold and brown that swirled in them.

“I said what I said so deal with it and leave me alone.”

He tightened his grip on you and took another step towards you and you were acutely aware of how close you two were.  One move and he would consume you.

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Why?  Because you don’t mean it?”

Yes.

“No, because I’ve already said it and I don’t want to repeat myself.”

He snorted.  “You’re impossible.”  He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and you followed the movement.

You two stood in silence for a few seconds and he saw your expression shift from one of annoyance to longing as you said, barely above a whisper, “if I did,” you cleared your throat and straightened yourself, “it wouldn’t even matter.”  You meant for your voice to sound strong and defiant but instead it came out broken and hopeless.

He matched your volume and his eyes turned soft, the brown taking over.  “It would.”

You popped your hip out and made a face that said ‘you’re joking, please be serious, and leave me alone.’  He smiled and took his lip in between his teeth.  Gods, he loved the faces you made.  So real, and transparent, and comical, and expressive.  You could say nothing but it all would be said in the ways your eyes narrowed, your eyebrows raised, and the downturn of your lips.

“It would matter a lot because unlike you I wouldn’t lie about how I feel about you.”

You didn’t say anything but you squinted your eyes and tilted your head, once again silently asking, what the fuck are you talking about?

“So, tell me the truth.”

You narrowed your eyes and huffed, stomping your foot.  “You know Cassian you are the most obnoxious and annoying person I have ever-” you weren’t able to finish your sentence because Cassian cupped your face and crashed his lips into yours.

It was the most exhilarating feeling in the entire world.  His hands, so big and warm and confident in their hold of you, made you melt and the sensation of his mouth working against yours made you see stars.  You stumbled with the force and failed your arms slightly to steady yourself, but Cassian removed one hand and grabbed your wrist again, placing it on your chest and you gripped his shirt and threw your other arm around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.

You pushed yourself on to your toes in an attempt to get closer to him and with a small groan he arched his body down against yours and tilted his head, deepening the kiss.  You matched the way his mouth feverishly overtook yours and it wasn’t long after that he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip asking, no begging, for entrance and you allowed it, moaning as he explored and tasted you.

This was exactly how he imagined you would feel, sound, and taste.  This was even better than what his imagination had conjured up these past few months.  You were soft beneath his grasp and you moved your body as his hands trailed down your back and under your shirt, gripping your waist.  The sounds you made were small and quiet but they vibrated his body and his pants grew tighter and tighter and he feared that if you pressed yourself into him more he would come undone.

You had thought about this moment for so long, too and the reality was so much better.  His stubble scratched your chin and his hands engulfed your frame and his tongue dominated your mouth.  You wanted to be entirely consumed by him and he was doing just that and it was like the heavens had come to you.  Your hands roamed around his chest and shoulders and hair; he was firm and his skin tight as you explored his body and you ached to know every muscle and crevice, every scar and expanse of skin.  You yearned to know him and you didn’t think this level of need was possible but here you were, silently, mentally begging for him to take you and reach for the stars.

He pulled away and you followed him with your mouth, a small whimper leaving your lips.  Your eyes were still closed, reeling from his touch.  Cassian’s eyes were still closed too as he brushed his lips over yours and brushed his nose on the tip of yours.  You two were panting, your breaths heavy and moving in synchrony.

A small smirk spread across his face as he brushed his lips against yours again and you tilted your head, trying to capture them in another searing kiss.

“Tell me again,” he kissed you.  “Tell me you don’t like me.”  Another kiss.  “Tell me you don’t care about me.”  Another kiss.  “Tell me you don’t want me.”

You wouldn’t because it wasn’t true.  It was never true.  Yes he was annoying and sometimes you detested his presence but at the end of the day he was fun and kind and made it a point to include you in everything he or the Inner Court did.  You secretly did like when you asked about your day or what you liked to do.  Nobody had ever been interested in you back home; how you felt and what you wanted was of no concern to anybody.  All that mattered to your father was that the house was picked up, the laundry was done, and the dishes were clean.  It felt amazing to be noticed even if Cassian was overbearing with his interest in you.

“I can’t,” was all you said.  It was true.  You couldn’t lie anymore.  You liked him, you cared about him, and you wanted him.

“Good.”  Another kiss; this one was hot and long, making you both moan, leaving you dizzy and throbbing with desire.  

“Because I don’t just want you, sweetheart.  I need you.”

[bluetimeombre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either.

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[this is long. i'm talking 5k words long so i've split it into two parts. anyway, azriel is the best bat boy and no i won't hear anyone out. i'm so excited to write for him and hope you enjoy. it's very angsty but that's what i love. i hope i can write more for him and maybe other characters if you like. it's been a while since i've actually read the series so if any information is wrong, do let me know. also it was my first time using the term y/n and yes, i cringed NOT PROOF READ... enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

Part 2 soon…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first, was the worst...

You were Rhys's half sister, the bastard daughter of his father. But when your mother had died giving birth to you, Rhysand's mother took you in and raised you with your brother and sister. You were so little and adorable that your sister loved you at once. Rhys did to, at some point of your life, you were sure he actually cared about you.

But when his mother and sister had died, his eyes shifted, he started to look at you with contempt. After all, you were only his half-sister. The worst half. He only kept you around because it's what his mother would have wanted.

And because there was no way Cassian and Azriel would ever let anything happen to you.

Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.

Although Azriel was his spymaster, you were pretty good at staying swift-footed too. And you were frankly, very terrifying when you wanted to be.

You tread with power through the war camps, all of them looking at you as you went. All of their gazes wrecked with a predatory gaze. They either wanted to have their way with you, or kill you. Or both.

Rhys had said you could handle it, it was only supposed to be a check in. Cassian hadn't liked it, neither had Mor but it was Azriel who had almost- and for the first time- disobeyed his high lord to accompany you. But no, your brother wanted you to do this alone, so alone you would.

Just to show him you could.

'I can come with you,' Azriel had said, standing in your room as you tied your boots up. 'I won't even have to be seen.' At that, his shadows wrapped up your calf.

You smiled at them, as if they were his own pet. 'I'll manage just fine. Besides, i'm sure that's what Rhys wants, me needing a man.'

It had done nothing to calm your friend. The worry was still stuck between his brows, marring his handsome features. You'd held his cheeks, your wings hiding the two of you. His large ones (enough to swallow the both of you) over-lapped yours.

It was the last time you'd feel your wings.

The war camp wasn't as easy as you'd hoped. It was terror and horror in a place. You'd been to the court of nightmares, you'd gone to the slaughter of the spring court after they killed your family. But this, this was hell of another kind.

You had no idea how many days you'd been locked up, wrists bound in chains and hanging from the cell roof above you. Blood rolled down your arms from the force you'd tried to use to get them out. Your eye was swollen shut and your body trembled in pain.

All because they wanted to know your brothers secrets, and you wouldn't budge.

Your check was only supposed to be a day, but you were sure it had been longer. Days of endless pain and torture. Your uniform hung in rags of stripped material, your hair matted with blood and hiding your face.

You'd used the last of your energy to keep your walls up. You weren't anyone's mate, you didn't have anyone on the other end trying to feel what you felt. But should Rhys come looking (though you doubted it) you didn't want him to feel it. You didn't want anyone in your mind.

The gates opened with a sickening clash.

One of the Illyrian's knelt in front of you, his wings hiding those coming in behind you. 'Listen sweetheart. I don't want to make this any harder than it's about to get. All you have to do is tell us your brother's hide outs.'

You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.

'So loyal, to a man who doesn't care if you live or die.'

Suddenly, your wings twitched as hands grasped them. Brute hands, the sort you wouldn't want touching any part of you.

Fear spiked in you, horror twisting your gut. 'What are you doing?'

'I told you I didn't want to get things messier, darling.'

You whipped your head from side to side, trying and failing to get a look at the assailants behind you. Your wings were being held apart, no matter how hard you tried to bat them away. You knew the sort of people they were, and what they did to girls like you.

That's when the begging started. 'No, no please. Anything. I'll do anything! Beat me, kill me, rape me, not my wings, please!'

'Anything?' the bastard asked, tongue poking out from his lips. 'Then tell me where your lord's hideouts are?'

You should betray him, you thought. He would never lose his wings for you. Perhaps it was stubbornness that kept you from, or maybe you were clinging to the last bit of love you want from him.

The bastard scoffed, 'anything, she says. Your brother has his own bitch wrapped around his finger.'

That's when they started hacking at your wings.

Your screams tore through your throat, blood spitting and dripping down your chin. Tears soon joined when they hacked away at the bone, the membrane, the flesh of it all. The three of them worked through your screams and your tears and your pain, tearing and cutting at it like it was nothing more than paper.

Not your whole life.

Let them hear you. You hoped your brother heard you, you hoped all and every court heard the pain.

Eventually, even you couldn't keep screaming. The only sound was the hacking away at your wings and the drops of blood.

'Now look at these beauties. I've got a perfect spot on my wall for these.'

They left you after that. There wasn't much more damage they could do. It already felt like they'd destroyed your life. You had never really thought about your wings, they were just part of you, as much as your wit or hair was. But they'd took it and now, you felt empty. Never would you fly with Azriel again, or use your wings to smack Cassian over the head.

Rhys, your dear brother, had took that from you.

The days blended in together after that. You were pooled in your own tears and blood, vomiting up anything they forced down your throat. No, they'd made it very clear they didn't want you dead. They just took pride in making it feel like you were.

At some point, you'd stopped reacting to the gate opening. You let them do whatever they wanted with you. Your wrists were still chained, arms still hanging up, your clothes hanging on your thin body in strips of dirt.

'No...' you heard a mumble. 'What have they done to you?'

Suddenly, the chains gave way and you lurched forward, with no strength to catch you. Luckily, you didn't have to, as strong and warm arms pulled you into his chest.

'Hey, wake up, look at me, dammit.'

Azriel.

You'd know the voice in the darkest days, in the pit of your worst nightmare you'd know.

You try to speak but your head's heavy, your lips are stone and your arms can't lift to hold onto him. You're exhausted, you're dying. The only thing you could do use all your strength to try to open your eyes.

'Please, please, look at me. You have to look at me,'

You were trying, you wanted to tell hm, snap at him, but you couldn't.

You felt Azriel shake, or maybe you were. Then, there was wet drops landing on your cheeks- you flinched.

'I'm sorry, i'm sorry. Rhys! Rhys! hurry up, please!' he was screaming. You'd never heard him scream before.

You heard the rush of feet at the cell doors, you knew it was your brother. You knew it from the presence of him, from the shuffling of feet and chocked sob. Your brother didn't cry, least of all for you.

'Her wings, oh mother, her wings,' said Azriel, his voice barley above that of a whisper.

Your wings. You didn't need reminding. They were gone, long and far gone. You were without a part of you, the very part of your soul that loved to be free. Never would you watch the stars up close or fly over everyone. Never race Cassian or make jokes with Az.

No, this would destroy you.

'y/n,' your half-brother called. 'No, y/n. Can you hear me?'

Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'

Azriel's grip on you tightened. 'I know, we're gonna get you out of here, just hold on for me.'

You wanted to tell him you would hold on, you'd always need to hold on to him. That, no matter what he asks, you'd do it. To kill, to live, to breathe, to die.

And that's when it clicked. Amongst all the pain and the doubt. In your blood soaked clothes. In the fear you wouldn't make it, there was a tug. Weak and one-sided, but there. You knew you'd be safe with Azriel, knew you would always be with him.

Mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The pain subsided to a dull ache, there and beating but not excruciating. You were warm and covered in a soft material. Nothing like the cell you'd been kept in. Your fingertips sunk into something soft- a bed. Your bed. It was familiar in its lavender scent to you and the silk wrapped around you gave you some semblance of warmth.

Your wings.

Even coming to consciousness was difficult. You were exhausted but light, without the weight of wings holding you down. You'd never realised how much you needed to feel that weight, to feel pulled down in order to be free.

Gone, all gone.

Your hand twitches around something cold, a shadow holding your hand, creeping up your side.

'You're awake, thank the couldron.'

It wasn't Azriel, master of the shadows. It wasn't your mate. Mate. The word replayed like a terrible song in your mind.

How dare the mother do this to Az. How dare he- nothing but loyal and kind- get stuck with a person made in darkness, who bled shadows, who's heart was so full of hate there wasn't room for love. They'd cursed Az, with you.

But luckily it wasn't him, it was Rhysand.

'It really happened,' you whispered, voice hurting from the screams.

He sighed. 'I'm sorry, i'm so sorry. We-we thought you weren't going to make it, you'd lost so much blood.'

In spite of the pain in your shoulders, you made a shift, turning from him as he ranted on about your condition.

'y/n... sister, please,' he said. He'd never called you sister before. He'd always been content to treat you just like you worked for him.

'Leave me alone.' you couldn't bare to look at him, couldn't bare to face him. The shadows at your hand grew heavier, as if more were piling on. You stretched your fingers away from them, trying to get them off you.

'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.

'Get out,' you mumbled.

The end of your bed dipped where Rhys settled, hand splayed on the covers, begging for your hand. 'y/n.'

'Get out!' you snapped, body tense and straining. You felt your wounds open up, blood wetting the bandage around you. But you didn't care. You'd happily bleed if you couldn't fly. A part of you, sick part of you wanted to be left there. It would be better than false sympathy.

Be better than your mate being disgusted.

'Get out!' you yelled again, voice tearing through an aching throat.

'I just want to help you! please, let me help you!' said Rhys, standing from your bed and walking around, trying to face you.

'I don't want your help!' you screamed. You reached for the closest thing you could, a jug of water and chucked it toward him. You aim was terrible, marred with pain and exhaustion. 'Get out!'

Though hesitant, Rhysand slowly started walking back to your door. He did it all looking at you, his hands out to show he wasn't gonna hurt you, but you didn't care. You went for the glasses next and chucked them but they landed against the door which he disappeared through.

Before it slid close you caught sight of Cassian , Mor and Azriel. All crowded, all waiting to see you.

You'd be happy if you never let them see you again.

'Can we see her?' you hear Mor ask.

'Give her time,' said Rhys.

The shadows at your hand grew heavier, darker, tighter.

'Go away!' you yelled at them. To anyone else, you probably looked crazy, screaming to darkness. But the shadows understood. They departed, slithering away and under the crack of your door where you could see the shadows of feet.

Tumbling from bed, you stumbled over and locked the door, leaning on it to and catching your breath. Your nightgown was starting to get sticky with blood all over again. When you closed your eyes, you pictured the cell, the rough hands holding you down, the chain keeping you up.

And the pain, it all washed over you. The hacking at your back, the sting of a slap. It hit you like a tone of bricks as you slid to the floor.

There was a knock, rattling the door.

'y/n,' Cassian. 'Please let us in.'

Us. You felt him on the other side. Your mate, his presence lingering. His shadows under the door, wanting to come in but keeping their distance.

He didn't know. It hadn't snapped for him, you could tell. It was one tug on your end, a chord in your heart. At least he couldn't feel what you did. At least you could shoulder it alone.

'Please.' his voice was almost your un-doing. He sounded so sad, so desperate. It hurt you just to think you were hurting him.

Tears streamed down your face as your curled your fingers into a tight fist. You assumed Mor had left with Rhys, leaving you there with the males.

Cass was always like a brother to you. Granted- a brother you had slept with once or twice- but he was your best friend. You'd always been close to him. But you'd always been good, a happy person.

You couldn't be that for them now, perhaps ever again.

It lasted like that for hours. Cassian and Az begging to come in, you curling into a ball with tears down your cheeks and blood down your back.

Eventually, they gave up. You couldn't hear them anymore and the shadows of their boots had disappeared.

Except Azriel's shadows that still lingered under your door. Maybe he'd ordered them to be there while they left you.

Eventually, you managed to find your footing on shaking legs. Your room was large, one of the largest. It was just as much a mess as it was when you'd left for you mission, clothes thrown over the place, books propped open on the pages you'd left them on. Everything was the same but could never be again.

It took you longer than you'd care to admit to get to your windows and throw the curtains close. Candles light at your request, the house looking after you as it had since you were a child.

You caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror. It seemed smaller, everything in the room felt too large and you too small, as if you were being swallowed by the expanse of it.

Your frame was small in the mirror, your hair disarrayed. Your eyes were red and shutting of their own accord from the tears that had drained you. The starving in the cells had made you look weak, made you feel weak.

And your back. There was no more looming black figures there, no more fluttering. There was just nothing. In spite of the ache as you lifted your arm, you felt around your back, feeling the hitch there, the lump from where they'd been torn from you.

You cry. You sob. You scream.

The scars were long and the nightdress was sticking to you by the blood you'd shed. All you could do, was hold yourself up as your body wracked with tears.

A breeze came from your windows, shadows tugging at the curtains.

You felt him before you saw him. You wanted to tell him to leave you but you couldn't talk without chocking. Without feeling like you couldn't breath.

Azriel had you in your arms before your knees could hit the ground. He fell with you, softening your body on the floor. His arms held you into his chest, his legs caging you into his body. His head rested on yours as he held you. He didn't try to talk, he didn't try to help. It was just him, you and his shadows.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel remembered dozing off with you, his head on yours. His arms holding you into him, as if it was up to him to keep the sadness away and take it for you.

Afterall, you were his best friend. He should have been there for you, and he'd failed terribly by letting you get hurt and your wings stolen from you. He could hate himself every day for it, for letting you down. But it would never amount to what you felt for yourself and that killed him.

He could see it in the way you cried, in the way you were already keeping everyone out. He'd rather die than let you go through all the pain alone.

When his hands had been scarred by his brothers, you'd help heal him, tell him about everything he still was and all the power he still held in his hands. In the worst days, when he didn't let anyone touch him, he let you.

It was always you.

Azriel wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or how deep. He was sure he was still with you, still in your bed.

His shadows crept up on him, engulfing him slowly and whispering to him. Your name, just your name on repeat. It was enough to lull him back into sleep, to keep him calm.

Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.

He shot up and ran fastest than he ever had in his life. It was as if he'd never been asleep but had been fighting a battle with the way he raced over.

He burst through the doors, the cold hight air hitting him.

You stood facing the stars, your bloody back to him. It wasn't as much blood as when he'd found you, but it was still enough to put a lump in his throat.

Immediately his shadows fell to you, cascading down your body and wrapping around your waist. There was a breeze in the air, pushing your hair back and exposing more signs of the pain and torture you must have gone through.

'I'm not gonna jump, if that's what you're thinking,' you said. You didn't even have to turn to him. The shadows probably told you enough.

'Why are you up here?' he asked, walking to you slowly and with careful steps. As if every step closer could you push you away from him.

'I'll never feel the win properly again,' you answered.

Azriel gulped down his own pain. You’d never sounded so small. ‘Can you get away from the ledge?’

'I'm not on the ledge.'

'You're too close for my liking.'

'Leave if you don't like it.'

'Don't do this,' he said.

'Do what?' you asked, folding your arms over your chest. You were cold, out in the hight but you wanted to see the stars. Needed to see them.

'Make me leave. Make everyone leave you. I know that's what you're doing. It's what you do every time,' you could feel him dawning closer. His shadows were all around you, almost drowning you.

‘Every time,’ you scoff, stepping down and turning on him. ‘It’s not every day you lose your wings Azriel! But don’t let me stop you from leaving, flap them and go!’ You yelled, unable to stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t want to hurt him, you just wanted to be alone.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

'You jump and I’ll catch you,' he said. He was a step away, he could just reach out and touch, just a gentle caress. 'I swear it, whatever you do, I’ll follow. I’m not letting you get away.’

He watched your back shudder as he reached out, brushing knuckles against your shoulder blade. He heard your sharp inhale follow.

'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'

Finally, you turned around in his shadows. You couldn’t meet his eyes but at least you could face his chest.

His hands were gentle on your shoulder as he rubbed it gently. 'Can I get Madja to clean you up?' He asked.

You nodded as he led you away. You truly did not deserve your mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Fifty-two years later...

When Amarantha had trapped the high lords of Prythian under the mountain, it hadn't be a conscious choice to follow your half-brother down. How Amarantha had allowed it, you weren't sure, but perhaps she wanted to use you just like her brother, or she thought it would bring more pain for him to see you suffer under there too.

You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.

It had took you almost two months to heal fully enough to leave your room, another few months to face your family again. But even then, everyone knew something had changed in you. You didn't laugh as loud or smile as wide.

Rhysand was careful to ever let you out on a mission. Mor tried to take you out every night. Cassian spent all day every day with you and Azriel- he'd healed you better than any nurse.

Still, you had not told him he was your mate.

Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.

Still, you cared for your brother enough to not want him to go alone.

But being under the mountain, you could avoid your mate. At a painful price.

Until her. Rhys's mate. He hadn't shut up about her since he first met her, much to your dismay as you had to sit around and listen- having absolutely nothing better to do. And it only got worse when she turned up under the mountain. She was declaring her love for Tamlin- again, annoying your brother, and throwing Lucien into danger- which rather angered you. You had nothing against the ginger.

Rhysand had once sent you to find the girl to summon her as part of a bargain he'd made. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to look too forceful. You'd been lucky enough to find the two tangled up in each other against a cold wall, clothes ripped and hips moving together.

'Well, well well,' you'd intterupted.

Tamlin all but growled at you, but feyre was looking over you- evidently confused. She had no idea who you were. You, in your skimpy outfit that Amarantha kept you in (they all dipped low at your back, showing off your scars) and your eyes that were like a night sky.

'Amarantha's looking for her pet and Rhysand is looking for his. Honestly, i'd be a bit more worried if I were you. You know, considering Lucien still has an eye to lose.'

The two parted with your words as you sent Tamlin back to his master, the high lord glaring at you as you went. While Feyre tried to fix herself.

'Rhysand is over there, better not keep him waiting.' That was the first time you met her, having no idea how much trouble she'd be worth. The family that she'd become.

But Rhysand made sure you knew it all. From when the bond snapped in him and he'd stumbled. He ranted and ranted as they climbed out.

If only you were so talkative about Azriel. If only you could talk about him with your brother. But you'd tried not to painfully think about him. Climbing out of the mountain. It was all you could think of.

Maybe he'd have forgotten you? it had been fifty years. He'd probably realised how happy he could be without having to take care of you.

Rhys was allowed out of the mountain, he'd felt the breeze in his hair but you hadn't in fifty long years. You stood there a moment, bathing in the warmth as everyone left, as everyone ran off for their families and courts and the war that was inevitable. Eventually, Rhys offered you his arm. 'Shall we go home?'

He winnowed you there, on the balcony of your home. In a cloud of black smoke, the two of you appeared.

He went first, slipping through the doors slowly- like it could all be taken from them any minute.

You were hesitant, taking a moment to glance at the landscape behind you. It hadn't changed, not at all. The mountains were still there, everyone was still alive. Your home. In the last years it hadn't felt like home, but how could anywhere ever feel so close in your heart.

When you could find your feat again, you managed to slip through the doors. You were suddenly aware of how little clothing you were wearing, just enough to cover your chest and run down your legs. A chill settled down your back, your scars would be on show. What a way to great them all after fifty years.

Mor had her arms around Rhys's shoulders, crying into his shoulder.

Behind them you caught Amren, with something like tears in her eyes. You were just about to tease her before a body barrelled into yours in a blur of red syphons and your feet were lifted from the ground.

'Cassian.'

His arms tightened around you. You shoulder started to dampen with tears, his tears. The last time you'd seen him cry around you was when he'd seen a dog with only three legs. 'I'm keeping you on a leash from now on, stupid idiot.'

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile gracing your lips. 'Is that a promise?'

He held you longer, tighter, not daring to let you go but at least settling you on the ground. He sighed against your head, controlling himself. 'He's missed you, you know,' he said. He was the only one you'd told, about your mate. 'Now that you're back, tell him. He deserves to know.'

Cassian slowly pulled away, holding you at arms length and smiling at you. He kissed your cheeks and then your forehead before parting to Rhysand.

Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.

'Ow!'

'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.

You blinked at her before she took you by the arm she'd slapped and embraced you, like a sister would. You dared not looking over her shoulder to find the one who hadn't come to you. Maybe Cass had got it wrong...

Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.

Azriel was as beautiful as the day you left him. His hair was the same length, he was the same height. He was just as you left him. It was hard to tell fifty years had passed on him.

And inside of you, tugging in your soul and heart you felt the familiar string of gold throbbing. But you still didn't feel that tug. You'd hoped it would have faded from you after half a year separated. Or at least have snapped for him. But no such relief.

He approached you, slowly. As if he was scared of scaring you away. But you just stood there.

His arms were delicate and soft around you as he brought you into his chest. He still smelled the same, cedar wood and shadows. Shadows that wrapped around you, shielding you from the rest of the room. They caressed you, head to two.

You held onto each other for what could have been another fifty years, but this time, it wasn't so painful.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Although nobody wanted to part after yours and Rhysand's return, you were exhausted. A trip to Rita's could wait another night or two. The only thing you wanted to do was hide in your room.

Strangely, your room looked lived in. As if somebody had moved in since you'd left. A moment of anger replaced grief. Had they brought someone else and given them your room? but then you smelt it, Az.

Lying in bed that night, exhausted, you couldn't find sleep. You closed your eyes and pictured Amarantha. You'd never been afraid of her, you weren't afraid of anything. But you re-played the horrors. Watching servants beat Feyre, watching Amarantha use your brother and on the occasion, even you. How she flaunted. How the most powerful lords were weak.

Under your door, shadows seeped in, rushing across the room to you. You smiled, watching your hand disappear in their darkness.

'Azriel?' you called.

There was shifting on the other side of the door before he slipped in, clicking it shut behind him.

You sat up in bed, shadows moving with you. 'Couldn't sleep?'

He wondered in, looking around your room. 'Sleeping's been... hard.'

You rolled over, opening the blanket and nodding your head. You couldn't think about the bond, not yet. Not while he looked so.... ruined. Beautiful- the most beautiful person in the world, but sad. As he climbed in next to you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and his wings too.

His eyes scanned over you. You were in a thin and silk night dress that only brushed your knees, but the way he looked at you, mother you could've been naked. 'Fifty years,' his voice sounded barley controlled. 'Fifty years. You followed your brother down for fifty years? Why would you do that?'

You gulp. 'I would've done it for any of you. Except maybe Amren, she'd probably enjoy the peace for fifty years.'

You go to brush your hair back but Azriel seizes your wrist. He was angry. That's why his voice was rough and his chest rising and falling with barley controlled emotions. Could he feel it? your nerves, your lying?

'You left. You should've stayed, y/n, you know Rhysand didn't want you under there with him,' he said. 'For fifty years I haven't been able to sleep through a night thinking about the pain you must have been going through. After I swore to keep you safe, after I promised to catch you every time!'

'You couldn't have stopped me. You didn't promise, Az.'

His grip grew tighter. 'It went without saying.'

You looked around his eyes, seeing the pain and grief there also. Slowly, you brought your other hand up. He flinched as you took his cheek but eventually settled as your thumb ran over his cheekbone. 'I won't leave again, ok? I promise.'

He gulped, letting go of your wrist and looking down. 'I slept here,' he mumbled, but just loud enough to hear you. 'I couldn't sleep in my room. This was the only place I could rest.'

Your heart stuttered. Your hand dropped from his cheek. This man was your mate. Your mate. Your only love, whether or not the cauldron deemed it.

Azriel took your hesitation. 'I-i'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that. I've probably ruined your one place of peace-'

'Stay,' you said, before you could think of what you were asking. 'Sleeping wasn't exactly easy under the mountain either. I just trust I won't have to put a wall of cushions between us.' as if you wanted that. As if you haven't thought about his calloused hands all over you.

Azriel smiled and stayed the night.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The third time he almost lost you, broke him...

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[thehighladywrites]

— “You were flirting with me?”

pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

summary: You leave Azriel mid-makeout to debrief with your girls

warnings: suggestiveness, the ic being nosey, miscommunication, rhys and cassian knowingly riling az up, the girls get drunk and interrogate reader, the boys get drunk and interrogate az,

amara’s note: this might be the funniest thing i’ve ever written. also sorry for my absence i’m posting more soon💗💗

You’ve had a massive crush on Azriel since the day you met him. He didn’t really notice you and was somewhat nice to you.

Really, you had no idea how you started crushing on him, I mean he paid you no special attention or anything. Maybe it was because he was quiet, handsome, tall, dark, mysterious and only spoke when it was necessary. He also cracked jokes and flashed grins that made your heart flutter. The Mother knows how much it grated your nerves whenever a male tried to hit or talk to you when you clearly had no desire to.

Azriel was the complete opposite and you started worrying that you were the one who grated on his nerves everytime you tried speaking to him.

“Hi Azriel, how are you doing?” you noticed him sitting at the dining table, collected yourself and asked him.

“Good,” he said staring straight into your soul before he realized his answer wasn’t really socially appropriate so asked you, “How are you?”

You just smiled awkwardly and nodded, “I’m fine, thanks.”

And that was how 90% of your conversations went. There was no further comments or extra questions and fuck if it wasn’t awkward. You really wanted to get to know him but you also knew how impossible it was since even the people he had been friends with for half a millennium often considered him a mystery.

Sensing the weird energy in the room, you just swiftly said goodbye, not bothering to stay to hear his goodbye.

He wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to do something, perhaps eat brunch at the restaurant you talked about to Cassian but you were moving before he had the chance. Azriel got extremely annoyed with himself, wondering why the hell he couldn’t ask you out like a normal person.

With determination, he promised himself to try the next time.

—

The girls all knew about your very obvious crush on Azriel and encouraged you to approach him often. They were all mated and happy and you wish it was you, you that had a mate, you who got loved and kissed and hugged and fucked.

But you just had to be obsessed with a man that paid you no attention… Maybe that’s why you wanted him, you viewed him as a challenge, and you loved challenges. Despite wanting his attention and wanting to get to know him, you still had self-respect and didn’t act like a pathetic, desperate, love-sick puppy infront of him.

So you went from always greeting him and smiling at him, trying to initiate conversations to flat out ignoring him. I mean, he never talked to you first so maybe it was time to accept it and just admire him from afar.

—

Azriel began to sense a dullness in his days, a void he couldn't really pinpoint. He realized he hadn’t talked to you, or rather, you hadn't talked to him while he played it cool, trying not to make his beating heart obvious. He noticed the absence of your chatter, questions and lovely voice, realizing that his days grew more mundane and boring without someone asking about his shadows, what his plans were, where he got Truth-Teller.

Azriel observed during dinner that you didn't glance at him once; your attention was solely on the girls or his brothers. You chose to stand up, walk across the dining room and grab the bowl of potatoes beside him instead of asking him for it, and it really irked him. Was he not worthy of passing a simple bowl of fucking potatoes?

He wondered if he had done something to make you avoid talking to him. Despite not being the most talkative person, he paid very close attention to everything you said, even if it seemed unnoticed. Azriel loved your presence and he thought he made his interest in you very clear when he looked at you.

Cassian had said girls like eye contact, still everytime he stared into your soul, you only looked weirded out. Was he doing it wrong? Maybe he wasn’t keeping eye contact long enough.

He had grown extremely fond of your talking and felt empty without it. Finding you alone in the kitchen while you prepared a quick breakfast, Azriel decided it was time to talk. The others had already headed to the training grounds as you had slept in. You were cooking your breakfast, not noticing Azriel.

“Hey.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen in place as you slowly looked up at him. Was he really talking to you? But why?

“Yeah?”

He stayed quiet for a bit, just staring at you in that weird way he always did. Even though he wasn't sure if you liked him back and was afraid of rejection, he still wanted to talk to you.

“How have you been?”

You fight the urge to furrow your brows in confusion. Since when the hell did Azriel care? You were truly baffled and tried to act normal.

“Uh, I’ve been good, you?”

Azriel didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

Usually, you'd spontaneously share every detail of your morning routine, even without him asking. He fucking loved to listen as you talked about your broken hairbrush, the struggle of choosing clothes, the snug fit of your leathers due to gained muscles, and the morning hassle with your hair, prompting you to wake up 20 minutes earlier than usual.

“I’m okay. Have you done anything else today? How is your hairbrush?”

A stupid question really, but Azriel didn’t care. He wanted to see that familiar spark in your eyes as you talked about anything and everything. No way would he ever forgive himself if he ruined something between you.

Your face heated at the fact that he remembered such a minuscule detail about something you said weeks ago.

”Oh, the hairbrush? It broke so I got an enchanted one. Heard it's like a hair miracle, tried it, and it really worked. By the way, your hair looks good. Did you cut it lately?”

Azriel couldn't help but warm up at your rambling. His eyes widened at first, and then he threw his head back and laughed. The deep, rich sound was familiar, yet it never failed to feel like the first time. It was a beautiful and joyful melody that always managed to make you melt on the inside.

"I really missed you," he admitted, feeling your heart pound in your chest, unable to meet his gaze.

"You did?" Azriel's soft smile warmed your heart, the one you'd nearly missed.

"I did. I enjoy being around you and hearing your voice," he confessed.

"Oh, I always thought you didn’t." You couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and relief.

Stepping closer, Azriel's presence loomed over you, his hand gently lifting your chin.

“Please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m sorry that my silence ever gave you that impression. I thought I was making my interest clear, to be honest,” he murmured, sincerity gleaming in his hazel eyes.

“Okay, I promise I won’t misunderstand again. But why did you think you made yourself clear?” you whispered, feeling a rush of energy as you locked eyes with him.

“Because I made a point of holding prolonged eye contact, thinking it was a clear signal of my interest,” he explained matter-of-factly.

You couldn't help but raise your eyebrows, suppressing a laugh. “So, all those times you were staring at me, you were actually flirting?”

Azriel's expression softened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Well, yes. I thought you knew.”

Suppressing a giggle, you bit your lip and glanced away, not wanting to offend him.

“Ah, not exactly crystal clear, but I understand now. Let’s go for a walk and chat some more,” you suggested, linking your arm through his.

"Sounds perfect. Now, tell me about those new leathers you got," he said, his playful demeanor easing the tension, steering the conversation towards lighter topics.

—

Over the next few months, the bond between you and Azriel deepened. He trusted you with secrets of his life that remained hidden from everyone else. These private conversations became the pillars of your connection, sweet moments for you only.

As the months went by, an unspoken desire for more lingered between you and Azriel. Yet, despite the magnetic pull, something kept you from going the final step.

You've had countless close moments where you almost kissed, where just a tip-toe closer would have sealed the deal. But it never happened. So close, yet so frustratingly far away.

—

Mor's question disrupted the laughter and gossiping of the girls' night, the clinking of wine glasses punctuating the anticipation in the air.

"Remind me again why you and Azriel aren’t a couple?”

Mor's curiosity hung palpably, shifting the mood from gossiping to an interrogation.

“Well, it’s kinda complicated,” you replied, swirling the wine in your glass as you gathered your thoughts.

“We have a great connection, but there's this unspoken understanding between us. It’s like there's a boundary we're afraid to cross.”

Amren raised an eyebrow, her sharp eyes observing you closely. “Unspoken understanding? Fancy fucking excuse”

Elain giggled and nodded in agreement.

You chuckled, “Maybe it is, but it’s like we're both tiptoeing around something, afraid to ruin what we have. I mean, do I want to be with him? Yeah, I do. But we might fuck something up and I think we have too good of a relationship to throw it all away.”

Nesta leaned back with a smirk, “Sounds like a case of unresolved sexual tension. Maybe the only cure would be to finally get a good dicking.”

You shot her a look, “You make it sound like a medical condition. Also that has got to be some plot from your smutty books.”

Feyre chimed in, “Maybe it is. Maybe it's time you took a bold step to see what happens. Who knows, it might get you laid.”

The group erupted into laughter, but underneath it, you couldn’t ignore the truth in their words. You liked him, there was no denying it. But did he like you as much?

—

“Is she dating anyone?” Rhysand’s casual question caught Azriel off guard as he browsed his big wine selections with Cassian while the girls where out of the house.

Azriel feigned ignorance. “Who?”

Rhysand and Cassian exchanged a knowing look. “Y/N. Is she dating anyone?”

Something about the question irked Azriel. “Why the hell do you care?”

Rhysand shrugged nonchalantly. “Just curious. I might set her up with someone.”

Azriel's jaw clenched as he fought to mask his frustration. Rhysand's casual tone grated on his nerves, igniting a simmering jealousy he hadn't realized he harbored. Suppressing a sigh, he forced himself to respond evenly,

“She's a grown female, Rhys. She doesn't need you playing matchmaker for her.”

Cassian chuckled, sensing the tension in the air. “Easy, Az. No need to get defensive. I think little Y/N might want a lover of her own, no?”

Azriel's gaze hardened, a flicker of annoyance flashing in his eyes. “I'm not being defensive. I just don't appreciate your implication. And no, she doesn’t need some lover.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, his smirk bordering on mischief. “Interesting. And why is that?”

Before Azriel could formulate a response, you had returned with the girls, your laughter echoing through the room, shifting the focus away from the questions. Azriel sighed, silently cursing Rhysand's annoying questions and the unresolved feelings stirring within him.

—

You turned off the tap and brought the glass of water to your mouth, much needed after the amounts of wine you and the girls had downed. It was honestly a miracle Mor had the energy to winnow you to the house of wind.

As the girls walked to the library for more drinking, you snuck into the kitchen for some water.

You put down the tall glass of water, swallowing the refreshing and cool drink before your body tingle.

Your stomach flipped, blood heating as your skin broke out in goosebumps.

His presence was undeniable.

Azriel was here.

Turning around to leave the sink, you saw him standing there behind the island, looking at you with a soft look that made your stomach flutter and cheeks heat.

"Hi," Azriel greeted softly as you approached him.

"Hi, Az." you replied, feeling a surge of warmth at the sight of him.

"Did you have fun with the girls?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Yeah, I did," you answered with a smile as you looked down.

Azriel's lips twitched, and he gently lifted your chin with his pointer and thumb. He looked down at your midnight blue dress and raised his brows

"You look absolutely breathtaking."

Your heart beat faster and faster and you were damn sure your friends upstairs could hear how hard it drummed against your chest.

You leaned into his touch, the move careful and intentional. Azriel’s thumb rubbed against your jaw, your eyes glistening in awe at his handsome self.

”Thank you. It’s nothing special, I just like the color.”

Azriel's gaze softened, his eyes lingering on yours with a tenderness that made your knees weak. "It's not just the color," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you. You’re beautiful."

A blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and you bit your lip nervously, unsure how to respond to such sincerity. But damn, he looked good, and the alcohol in your system made you feel bold enough to speak your mind.

"You look really good," you said, your voice a little breathless. "This shirt suits you."

Stepping closer, you let your hand rest on his sturdy chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, the tension between you palpable. Slowly, your hand traveled down to the planes of his stomach, each movement filled with anticipation.

As you looked up at him with a mischievous smile, you played with his belt, the air crackling with the electric energy of the moment. His reaction was immediate, his gaze flickering with desire as the tension between you reached its peak.

Azriel clenched his jaw, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your breaths mingled. The sudden proximity caught you off guard, making you gasp softly.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with desire. "Let's not do things we can't handle."

Your breath hitched at his words, a shiver running down your spine as his proximity sent electric sparks coursing through you. “That sounds like a challenge, Azriel,” you taunted, your voice barely a whisper.

Azriel’s smirk widened, his gaze burning with intensity. “Consider it an invitation.”

You looked at each other, breathing shallowly. Azriel’s intense gaze softened gradually as his eyes traveled further down to your lips. He swallowed, pupils wide with lust.

"May I-"

"Yes."

It was a tender, sweet kiss that caught you off guard in the best way possible. You didn't expect him to be so gentle, but you welcomed it wholeheartedly.

His touch was tender yet reassuring. One hand cradled the back of your head, while the other wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer to him.

You melted into his embrace, savoring every moment of closeness. Your hands found their way to his neck, clinging to him as if you never wanted to let go.

Azriel’s shadows swirled around you lazily, one trailing up your calf and causing you to twitch in surprise. Pulling back, you were met with his clouded, lustful eyes. A mixture of concern and confusion cleared up his hazy gaze.

Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. Here you were, in the kitchen, making out with Azriel—the very male you'd had a crush on for what felt like an eternity. Panic surged through you, and you took a step back, needing a moment to collect yourself.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm, I’m fine, just give me one second,” you managed to stammer out before turning on your heel and practically stumbling out of the kitchen.

With your heart racing and your mind in a whirlwind, you burst into the library where the girls were lounging, each with a glass of wine in hand. Feyre perked up at your arrival, offering a lazy smile.

“There you are, was wondering where you went,” she mused, clearly already feeling the effects of the alcohol.

Without thought, you blurted out the bombshell news. “Guys, Azriel and I kissed.”

The revelation seemed to sober up the entire room, and suddenly, you were bombarded with questions and reactions from your friends.

“Oh my gods, finally,” Mor exclaimed, practically jumping in her seat

“Is he a good kisser? Was it rough or soft? How did he hold you?” Nesta fired off questions, her curiosity piqued.

”All of you owe me 10 cold coins each. I’m always right,” Feyre slumped back in her seat, sipping the wine as she nodded happily.

“I knew you were up to something while we were in here,” Amren chimed in with a knowing smirk.

You grinned widely as you shared all the details with the girls, who were just as excited as you were. They leaned in, eager to hear every bit of the story.

As the questions swirled around you, Elain’s confused expression brought the conversation to a halt.

“Wait, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be kissing right now?” she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

You froze, the weight of her words sinking in. “Well, yes, we were just... making out, and I had to come here. I panicked.”

In response, your friends practically shoved you back outside, Nesta taking the lead. “And don’t you dare come back until your legs are shaking and you have a big smile on your face,” she declared with a mischievous grin.

You took a deep breath, suppressing your smile as you made your way back to the kitchen. Azriel stood there, leaning against the kitchen island with his feet crossed and arms over his chest.

“Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice laced with concern.

You softened at his words, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling him down slightly, you gave him a loud kiss that ended with an audible "mwah."

"I really couldn't be more comfortable. I love you, Az. Like a whole lot," you confessed, your voice filled with sincerity and affection.

Azriel's eyes softened at your words, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and tender.

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than I can put into words."

You felt a rush of warmth flood through you at his admission, your heart fluttering with happiness. Without another word, you leaned in and kissed him again, the feeling of his lips against yours sending shivers down your spine.

Azriel grabbed your hips and slowly backed you into the kitchen island. You yelped when he picked you up and put you on the counter, deeping the kiss.

“Let me take you on a date. I want to do this properly,” he whispers breathlessly between kisses as he tucks your hair behind your ear.

You put your hands on his chest lovingly as you nod, smiling up at him. “I’d love that.”

—

extra scene where rhys and cassian visit azriel in the kitchen:

Azriel stood frozen as you left, his mind going into overdrive, worrying if he had done something wrong. Just as he was about to follow you, Rhys and Cassian popped their heads into the kitchen.

"Yo. Where did she go?" Cassian asked, scanning the empty kitchen.

Azriel furrowed his brows at the pair, or rather their heads.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Go before she comes back," he urged, shooing them away with his hand.

Rhys leaned against the kitchen island, a satisfied grin on his face. "It's about damn time."

Cassian nodded in agreement. "Fuck yeah, took him long enough. But hey, better late than never."

Azriel frowned, feeling the weight of their words. "You guys make it sound like it was some kind of mission."

Rhys chuckled. "In a way, it was. And you finally completed it."

Azriel sighed, "Stop talking like that, you sound fucking ancient.”

Cassian smirked at him, arms over his chest as he said “Y’all kissed?”

Azriel's cheeks flushed slightly at Cassian's question, but he maintained his composure. "Yeah, we did."

Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. "And?"

Azriel shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "And it was... nice."

Cassian laughed, clapping Azriel on the back. "Nice? Come on, tongue?”

"Yeah, tongue,” he said trying and failing to suppress a smile.

Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I knew it, you little freak. What else?”

Azriel's expression turned guarded. “Okay, that's all you dickheads need to know. Now, get the fuck out before she comes back.”

Rhysand’s eyebrows shot up, a finger wagging in Azriel’s face. “You better not fuck in my kitchen, I swear to the Mother, I’ll make you both scrub every inch.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and ushered them out, leaning against the kitchen island, waiting for you.

[randomgurl2326]

Next To My Wife

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: The one time Azriel let his two worlds collide…ALSO…Based off of this quote from EPIC The Musical: After everything you’ve done, how will you sleep at night/Next to my wife

Warnings: Blood, Torture

The dungeon is cold. Second only to the Winter Court. The sounds of a male’s cries and screams are music to the spymaster’s ears.

The cobalt siphons on the Illyrian warrior’s leathers shine bright down here. Like they knew what he’s doing and that he takes pleasure in it.

The male doesn’t let the guilt creep in. Not yet. Guilt is for the conscience. Conscience is for home. He can’t afford conscience at work. That’s a luxury only innocence can have…. His sweet girl, innocent—

No, he can’t think of her now. Never let the two worlds touch, is what he tells himself. Keep the innocent innocent. Keep the bloody bloody.

Never let them touch.

Azriel’s shadows envelop the faerie. The whisps talk animatedly as they watch their master work. Suggestions ring through his ears from the tiny shadows.

The whip, master, the whip.

No! No! Truth Teller, Master. Surely that will get the job done.

The shadowsinger grits his teeth and lets out a grainy, “Quiet.”

The shadows whispers lessen to a dull roar. Azriel’s shoulder’s tense as he speaks, “Tell me what you know about Beron Vanserra’s dealings with Hybern.”

The faerie hesitates for only a second before hardening his gaze and answering, “Fuck. You.”

The spymaster breaks two of the male’s fingers as a result of his defiance. Azriel tightens his grip on the faerie, “Wrong answer. Tell me before I rip out your fucking veins one by one.”

The faerie male cries out in pain. Finally submitting to the spymaster, “Alright! Alright! I’ll tell you!” The next one quieter, “I’ll tell you.”

Azriel presses down on the other male’s jugular, “I’m listening.”

“T-the High Lord wanted a deal,” the Illyrian senses the quiver in the faerie’s voice, “A-a protection deal o-or something, I don’t fuckin’ know.”

The dark whisps of shadows stir again, sensing a lull.

He’s lying, master.

He knows but doesn’t want to tell master.

If pretty girl were here she’d be able to—

Azriel squeezes his eyes shut at the mention of his girl. Don’t let the two worlds touch, he says to himself, leave the conscience at home. The spymaster’s eyes open once again, reminding him of where he is. What he’s doing.

Scarred hands press down harder on the male’s protruding neck, “Enough of the bullshit. Tell me what you know.”

The faerie winces, “S-security! Security… he wanted to trade Night Court secrets in exchange for security with Hybern. Beron wanted stability. He senses a war. I-I don’t know what secrets he was gonna share. I just know that they were heavy.”

The Illyrian’s shadows exert approval of the truth. Azriel grunts and twists the male’s arm backwards, pushing his leather boot clad foot down on his back and forcing his head down.

The shadowsinger smirks and leans down to the faerie’s ear, with a dark voice he says, “Thank you… But you’re no longer needed.”

He unsheathes Truth Teller and stabs it in the male’s shoulder blade. He waits a beat before slowly pulling it out. The agonizing cries of the faerie bounce through the otherwise quiet halls of the dungeon. His whimpers bring a twisted delight to the spymaster.

Once the dagger is fully removed, Azriel stands and gives one last stomp on the faerie’s foot for good measure.

“Someone will be here in the morning to either clean your remains or your wounds. Make sure not to bleed too much. I do like this dungeon.”

Azriel walks off and cleans Truth Teller with a rag nearby. Just as the Illyrian is about to exit, he hears the faerie’s pain-stricken voice, “After everything you’ve done, how will you sleep at night?”

Azriel stops at the exit and smirks. He doesn’t dignify the faerie with a glance as he says in his gruff baritone, “Next to my wife.”

[dark-dawn]

❝ HEART RATE HIGHS !! ❞ – azriel x reader

✭ pairing: gym rat ! azriel x archeron ! reader

✭ summary: you swear you only have a gym membership for self-improvement. it’s definitely not to see the cute guy you have a crush on.

✭ contains: modern au, f!reader, college au, but age is vague, anxious!reader who can’t see that azriel is already a little in love with you, gym culture, alcohol, meddling sisters, because reader is terrible at talking to guys, mutual pining.

✭ word count: 3k+ ✭ a/n: i absolutely love gym fics and i couldn't stop thinking about azriel in a compression shirt, so if i have to suffer, so do you <3

“wait, did i hear you properly? you’re going to the gym?” nesta’s voice cuts through the quiet murmur of the lecture hall. heads turn, and the professor pauses mid-sentence, frowning at the interruption. you cringe at the sudden attention and whisper an apology, slouching in your seat to avoid the stares.

“you’re acting like i’ve just sprouted wings,” you respond, trying to keep your voice low.

nesta blinks, her surprise melting into scepticism. “well, it is out of character for you. the gym, are you sure?”

“yes.”

“really?”

you nod.

you can’t blame her for being doubtful. among your sisters, you’re the most averse to exercise. even elain, thanks to her gardening, could likely outlift you. but –

“i don’t know if i should be offended that you’re so surprised.”

“hey, it’s not personal,” nesta replies, her voice softer as she glances around the room. the professor had resumed teaching and students were slowly returning their attention to their notes. “it’s just... unexpected. i mean, last time i suggested going for a jog, you looked at me like i’d grown a second head.”

“yeah, well, i just figured it’s about time i start taking better care of myself.”

“what brought this on all of a sudden?”

you shrug, trying to put your thoughts into words. “i guess i just realised that i’ve been neglecting my health lately. with school and everything else going on, i haven’t been feeling so great.”

nesta nods in understanding, letting you continue. neither of you really cared about this class, after all, and it wasn’t the first time you’d been called out for talking through a lecture.

“i just thought it might be a good way to clear my head, you know? like, a chance to zone out and focus on something other than deadlines and exams.”

“if you turn into a gym rat and only eat chicken and rice, i’m disowning you.”

“you’d have to pry ice cream from my cold, dead hands,” you say, nudging nesta with a grin. “nothing can take away my love of carbs and cheesy fries.”

“uh-huh, sure. that’s what they all say until they’re posting pictures of their meal prep on instagram.”

“you have no faith in me, do you?”

“none whatsoever,” she replies with a grin. “but hey, if this gym thing helps you feel better, i’m all for it.”

“if i ever mention a juice cleanse, you have full permission to stage an intervention.”

“deal. and if you lecture me on the importance of pre-workout supplements, i’m kicking you out of the apartment.”

after your year abroad, you found yourself back at the university of velaris, settling into a new rhythm with your three sisters. the four of you had decided to share an apartment, a decision fuelled by equal parts necessity and nostalgia. it wasn’t long before familiar routines took shape amidst the chaos of unpacked boxes and endless debates over furniture placement.

besides, feyre had been spending most of her time at her new boyfriend’s apartment, leaving a bit more breathing room for the rest of you. you hadn’t met him yet, but you’d heard he came from money and his penthouse had skyline views, so you could hardly blame her.

nesta wasn’t a fan, muttering something about “trust fund babies” under her breath whenever his name came up in conversation. but feyre seemed happy, and ultimately, that was what mattered most, even if a twinge of jealousy occasionally crept in.

“you should come with me.”

“i would rather die,” she snorts. “doesn’t mor work out? you should ask her.”

“no way, i’d look even more unfit next to her. i have some pride.”

“wow, so you ask me instead. you’re such a bitch,” she laughs.

as luck would have it, the gym was just a 10-minute walk away, conveniently offering a discounted price for students. the only downside was going alone.

“but i don’t know how to use the equipment,” you groan.

“and you think i do?” your sister retorts.

“well, no, but at least i wouldn’t look like the only idiot.”

“just find someone with muscles and ask them,” she suggests.

“right, of course, because i’m so great at talking to strangers.”

nesta raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement. “so, what’s your plan then? to stand in the corner and hope the smith machine starts talking to you?”

“maybe,” you mumble, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. you didn’t even know what a smith machine was until this morning.

nesta lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. “stop being such a baby and put a cute workout outfit on. you’ll be fine.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you were very much not fine.

the blonde girl at the front desk, with her bouncing ponytail and bright smile that could probably power the entire gym, was very nice. she had given you a tour of the gym, showing you the rows of gleaming equipment and weight racks, and enthusiastically pointed out the array of classes available, from yoga and spin to high-intensity interval training.

she had, however, assumed you knew how to use everything, and you hadn’t been brave enough to correct her.

you had nodded along, trying to absorb the barrage of information she threw at you, but each machine seemed more complicated than the last, and you were positive some of them belonged in a medieval torture chamber. 

but you could do this. if guys who couldn’t even spell “midterm” could end up looking like greek statues, surely you could handle a single gym session. you were smart, you were pretty. everything was going to be just fine. besides, you had watched enough fitness influencers on social media to have a vague idea of what to do. with a deep breath, you reminded yourself that everyone had to start somewhere – or at least that’s what your therapist had told you.

deciding to start your session with something familiar, you made your way over to the row of treadmills. incline walking was hard to mess up. the downside was that it made you feel like you were dying.

thirty minutes later, you were profoundly regretting your decision as you clung to the handrails, legs burning with exertion. sweat had beaded on your forehead, and you couldn’t help but curse under your breath.

with shaky legs, you made your way to the weights, steeling yourself against the familiar wave of self-doubt. this part of the gym was always crowded with an excess of men flaunting their egos, their grunts and posturing only serving to make you feel even more out of place.

you think of nesta and how she would never let anyone make her feel small. she would have your head if she thought you would let any man intimidate you.

deep breaths. everything is fine.

as you attempt to adjust the resistance on the leg press machine, your fingers fumble over the pin that holds the weight stack in place, causing the plates to clang noisily against each other. flushed and annoyed, you would love nothing more than to slink away in embarrassment.

“here, let me.” he crouches beside you and effortlessly rectifies your problem as if you hadn’t been struggling for the past ten minutes.

oh god, he looked like he could go viral on tiktok or be on the front cover of a fitness magazine.

and he was helping you.

stay calm. just ignore the fact that this might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever met.

you couldn’t help but steal glances at the way his muscles flexed beneath the fabric of his black compression shirt, each movement highlighting the definition of his arms and chest.

he was so pretty. you just hoped you didn’t look like you were dying.

“thanks,” you say, your voice coming out a little more breathless than you intended.

oh god, just breathe.

he flashes you a soft smile, “no problem. we’ve all been there.”

you’d like to say you committed to a gym membership for self-improvement.

(you would be lying.)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

before ever stepping foot in a gym, your taste in men was somewhat predictable.

you liked nerdy computer science guys you could play video games with and pretentious english lit students who gave you good book recommendations – the indoor sort.

they all tended to look like a light breeze could push them over. not the kind where you could steal their hoodies. and that was fine. you didn’t care, honest.

but then the cute guy at the gym completely ruined your usual type in men. you never imagined you’d be that into muscles, but he looked like he could toss you around like a rag doll, and you soon realised that you actually quite liked the thought.

you initially thought your crush would be harmless – glancing at him from across the room and playing out scenarios in your head.

but then he started offering to unload your plates, and showed you how different machines worked when you looked particularly confused. he would ask you to spot him, despite you both knowing you would be of zero help, and would refill your water bottle when he noticed it getting low.

he would even help to correct your form so you wouldn’t injure yourself.

that, however, had you so flustered you couldn’t even complete the full set. his hand grazing your waist made your heart pound so loudly, you were certain he could hear it. you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

you told him you had to leave early to finish your essay.

and then, like the gentleman he was, he had asked you about it the next time he saw you, and let you ramble about your major for far too long. the worst part was that he seemed genuinely interested.

you didn’t even know his name and yet you were pretty sure you wanted to have his babies.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“are you sure you really need protein powder?” elain questioned, picking up a bunch of celery for her green juices. “you can get all the vitamins and minerals you need from real food, you know.”

“but it’s so much easier to hit my protein goals with it,” you whined, clutching the tub of powder defensively.

“she’s only doing this because her crush drinks the same brand,” nesta teased, a sly grin spreading across her face as she tossed a box of granola into the cart.

“oh my god, keep your voice down,” you groaned, glancing around nervously. it was 10 pm on a wednesday. the grocery store was practically deserted, but you think you might cry if anyone overhears. “besides, it’s not just because of him. it’s practical!”

“practical,” nesta repeated, her grin widening. “sure, that’s the reason.”

“what’s his name again?" elain said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“i hate you,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up. you tried to focus on the nutrition label in front of you, but nesta’s laughter made it impossible.

“come on,” nesta said, nudging you playfully. “you’ve been pining over him for months. when are you going to actually talk to him?”

“never?”

“you should accidentally bump into him and spill your protein shake all over his expensive gym clothes. it would be a brilliant conversation starter.”

“please don’t jinx me.”

“oh, and then you could do his laundry as an apology, and he’d buy you a coffee because he thinks you’re pretty!” elain chimes in.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you’ve been working out long enough now that you knew the basics of gym etiquette. namely, don’t be creepy. a simple thing, really, but too many people struggled to act like sane, well-adjusted human beings capable of basic manners. it was as if the gym was some bizarre alternate universe where leggings made men’s brains short-circuit.

so you try very hard to not stare at your gym crush doing pull-ups.

but his biceps are flexing, his shirt is riding up, and you never knew you could be so attracted to someone’s back.

you feel like you’re twelve again – you want to write his name in a heart in your diary and talk about him for hours on the phone.

for the first time, however, you’re grateful you don’t know any concrete details about him. you would’ve stalked his social media, found out he had a girlfriend or horrible political opinions, and then cried yourself to sleep.

you’d really rather not know. hopeless yearning is much more to your taste.

but then he notices you across the room and smiles, and you realise your gym crush is very much not harmless.

you decide that you’ll be brave and actually initiate conversation for once.

a horrible idea, really.

“hey.”

“hey,” he responds.

“what are you listening to?” god, you didn’t think you were this awkward.

“oh, i don’t listen to music when i work out.”

“right, yeah, i totally get that.” you actually don’t understand that at all. the idea of exercising with just your thoughts sounds like a special kind of torture, but he doesn’t need to know that.

you fidget with the hem of your shorts, desperately searching for something else to say.

“so, uh, how’s your workout going?” he asks.

“it’s going okay,” you reply, the words tumbling out. “you?”

you want to disappear.

“yeah, it’s good too.” you swear you see a hint of pink in his cheeks, though it’s probably just from finishing his set.

your mind is blank and you have no idea what else to say. “great.”

you hope you look like you’re smiling and not grimacing.

this was quite possibly the worst idea you’ve ever had. you’re never speaking to a man again.

even if they are very pretty and look like they could pick you up without breaking a sweat.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

getting ready with three other girls in a cramped apartment was always a challenge. you loved your sisters, but if feyre didn’t get away from the mirror, you would scream.

feyre, always meticulous with her makeup, was painstakingly perfecting her eyeliner, ignoring the sighs from nesta.

“can you possibly move any slower?” nesta hisses, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms.

you exchange a knowing look with elain, who was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, scrolling through her phone. she had opted to stay behind, and you were growing increasingly jealous of her decision.

“why don’t we just take turns?” you intervene, hoping to avoid a fight before you even got to the party. “feyre, you finish up, then nesta, and i’ll go last. sound fair?”

feyre finally steps away from the bathroom and nesta wastes no time in taking her place, muttering something about how she could do a better job in half the time.

feyre had been persistent about attending one of rhysand’s house parties for weeks now, and despite your and nesta’s reluctance, she had managed to wear you down. it wasn’t so much her persuasive arguments as it was the promise of free alcohol that ultimately swayed both of you. plus, you were a little curious. feyre had been gushing about her boyfriend for months now. 

as you stood in front of the mirror, giving yourself a final once-over, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. feyre, radiant in her navy dress, was practically buzzing with excitement. nesta looked as though she’d rather be doing anything else, despite begrudgingly admitting that the three of you looked good.

you had opted for a short, tight-fitted black dress. shocking how regularly going to the gym could actually help your confidence.

feyre led the way, practically dragging you and nesta out of the apartment. elain, now comfortably nestled on the couch with a book, waved you goodbye. “be safe, and don’t drink too much!”

“it’s so cute that you think i could survive the night without being drunk,” nesta laughs. 

the cool night air is a welcome change from the stuffy apartment as the three of you step outside to wait for the cab. feyre was already chattering about rhysand and his friends, while nesta had shot her a look that could wither plants.

you really needed a drink.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

rhysand’s apartment ended up being a thirty-minute drive away, nestled in the wealthier district of velaris, and you could see why feyre spent so much time here.

you could hear the music before you even enter, and it smells so strongly of alcohol you already feel a little lightheaded.

it can hardly be called an apartment in all honesty, it’s nicer than most houses and certainly surpasses anything you’ve ever stepped foot in before. it’s spacious, with an open layout that flows effortlessly from one room to the next. plush couches and chairs face a glass coffee table that is currently covered in red plastic cups and half-finished bottles of vodka. luckily, all his furniture was black. you winced at the thought of cleaning the stains that were bound to appear after tonight.

you noticed the floor-to-ceiling windows offering a pretty view of the city skyline, the twinkling lights stretching out like a blanket of stars against the night. you weren’t the jealous type, but you had the sudden urge to strangle feyre.

she had navigated the apartment with ease, her eyes alight with familiarity as she disappeared in search of rhysand. left to fend for yourselves, you and nesta exchanged a glance before setting off in the direction of the kitchen.

as you weave through the throng of people, you catch sight of mor, effortlessly manoeuvring between guests as she pours drinks. she seems completely at ease, flashing dazzling smiles and looking stunning as ever.

mor’s eyes light up with recognition as she spots you among the crowd. with a beckoning gesture, she calls you over. “i didn’t think you two would be here!” she seems genuinely happy to see you, despite only talking to her after class a couple of times.

“our sister is dating the host, so naturally, we’ve been dragged along,” you reply. “she’s off hunting him down now.”

mor’s gaze shifts between you and nesta, realisation crossing her features. “rhysand is actually my cousin,” she explains with a smile. “so, i’ve met feyre a few times now.”

“that’s unfortunate,” nesta laughs. you’re pretty sure she’s only half-joking.

you elbow her. “come on, don’t be mean. i don’t want to be kicked out after five minutes of being here.”

“are you sure? we could go get pizza and ice cream and not wake up feeling like we were hit by a car?”

“are you seriously the voice of reason right now?”

“hey, if you’re going to the gym, then i can be a responsible adult.”  

mor perks up, her eyes brightening with interest. “you work out?”

you smile sheepishly, “i only started a few months ago.”

“you should join me sometime!” mor suggests eagerly. “i usually go with rhysand and a few others, but one of them hasn’t shown up in ages. it’d be great to have another girl!”

“speaking of which, i should introduce you to them,” mor adds with a grin before calling out, “azriel! cassian! get over here!”

and then you spot who is walking over.

“mor, what’s up?” a very familiar voice asks.

because, you realise, it’s your gym crush. it’s the guy you’ve been pining over for months.

your brain is really struggling to comprehend that he’s here, and he knows mor, and apparently rhysand?

has he met feyre too?

he’s wearing all black, like usual, and his biceps look even better in this lighting, and oh god, you want to melt into the ground before you somehow think of a new way to embarrass yourself.

your mind is racing a hundred miles per hour and you’re suddenly realising you’re going to have to avoid feyre’s boyfriend forever if he’s friends with him and – 

and as your eyes meet his, and realisation flickers across his features, you’re really wishing you had stayed at home with elain.

or vanish into thin air. that works too.

“az, these are feyre’s sisters!” mor’s voice breaks through your thoughts.

you’ve finally learnt his name, you suppose, but you’re pretty sure you’ll have to find a new gym.

[surielstea]

Wedding Crasher

Based on this request.

Paring: Azriel x Fem!Reader (mates)

Summary: Reader is forced into an arranged marriage, and when the day of union comes it is interrupted by two familiar Illyrian warriors.

Warnings: Toxic relationship with parents | forced marriage | Azriel threatens a life | but pretty much all fluff <33

2.4k words.

My white dress hung heavy on my shoulders, my corset too tight, my heels already making my feet ache.

The plastered smile on my face hurt my cheeks, and the thorns in my bouquet prickled my sweaty palms. I released a shaky breath as the music of the string quartet began to play, an unmistakable tune meant for happy brides ready to walk down the aisle.

Which is what I was supposed to be, happy, ready. Heads turned in my direction and my back straightened, my brows creasing the slightest fraction.

My husband-to-be waited at the end of the walkway, his smile broad and malicious. My stomach churned.

I didn't want to be here, here on this beach getting married to some guy twenty years older all for an alliance my parents forced me into. My self-sovereignty for what? For a few pieces of gold and a minor title?

I took a steadying breath and began walking forward, keeping in rhythm to the strum of the music. The groom reached his hand out towards me, my own shook as I took it and he pulled me the rest of the way to the altar.

The officiant began the reading from his script, and with it, my ears began to ring, I tuned the priest out and my eyes fluttered closed. My fiancé's hands squeezed mine, not in a comforting manner, but a warning. I snapped my head up and looked at the officiant, I blinked at him with creased brows.

"Do you, take Rhen Talor to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish till death do you part?" He repeated each word adding another pound of weight to my shoulders.

"I—" I look between the oblivious officiant and the groom, Rhen, to my parents who were watching with narrowed eyes. "I..." I wanted to say yes, I was going to say yes, but the pounding in my heart could be heard in my ears and I got the sneaking suspicion that I was about to vomit all over my white gown.

An unnatural wind blew my hair back as if nature itself was beckoning me to step away, to run.

I looked in the direction of the wind, my hands slipping from Rhen's as I spotted two towering, familiar winged figures in the distance and I realized the pounding in my ears was the beat of their wings.

The crowd murmurs at the intrusion as the two Illyrians casually stroll towards us, arrogance and power in each step.

"Excuse me for a moment," I say, gathering my skirts in my hands and rushing over to the two males as fast as I can in my heels that seemed determined to get stuck in the sand.

"What in the seven hells are you two doing here?" I seethe, looking at the fae warriors who were smiling at me with wicked amusement. Some part of me relaxed to feel anything besides fear and nausea, even if it was anger taking over.

"We're here to save you, what else?" The shadow singer arches a brow, dark shadows swirling up the pure white of my dress.

"I don't need anyone's saving, especially not two Carynthian warriors," I argue and Cassian snorts, taking in my appearance.

"I only came along because Az promised there'd be a buffet," The lord of bloodshed shrugged.

"Not for— this is wildly inappropriate, even for the two of you." I groaned but Cassian only continued walking, towards the guests that were scrambling away from the sight of his seven siphons. Leaving me and Azriel, our words drowned out by the crashing of the waves.

"You're too late. I already said I do," I cross my arms over my chest.

"Liar," He narrows his hazel eyes on me. "You know better than to try and fool me, Love, I could feel you tugging at the bond, you were in distress," Azriel took a dangerous step forward and I sucked in a sharp breath at the mention of the bond, not accepted but not rejected either. A bridge between us that I both refused to sever and to walk across.

H grabbed my hand that was prickled with the thorns of my bouquet, shadows soothed over my palm, relieving the sting of my minor wounds. "You shouldn't be here," I frowned but his smile remained.

"No, probably not, but I can't let you marry him," He said, his voice brooking no room for argument, ever the cool and collected male.

“Go home, Azriel,” I speak quietly, but not weakly.

“Come with me.” He matches my tone, his scarred fingers intertwining with my manicured ones and the sensation was so different than the feeling of Rhen’s grip. "Why did your parents arrange this? What are they gaining from this union?" He asked, voice slightly stiff at the idea of selling me off for their own personal achievement.

"Money, the Talor's have a small title and crop of land, it'd be enough to last us a few centuries,” I shrug. I loved my parents, despite their twisted and corrupt ways, I loved them because they fed and raised me, I loved them because they put clothes on my back and told me bedtime stories. I never assumed I’d have to pay them back, not this way, at least.

"I'll give you every cent to my name if that's the price of my mate's freedom, if money is what they want, they can take mine." The shadow singer stated, his words certain that it made me realize that I’ve never been as sure about anything as he was about this.

"I can't ask you to do that." I shake my head, slipping my fingers from his, knowing the lingering guests were watching.

"You don't have to, I want you to be happy, let me buy you then set you free." He implored, allowing my hand to fall to my side only because he moved to cup my cheek. "And if I'm lucky you'll fall in love with me along the way." He shrugged with a smirk of pure fae male arrogance.

"Az," I deadpan, the words half a growl.

"I'm not asking you to marry me, I'm asking you not to marry him." His eyes flick back to the male watching with furious eyes from the archway. "If you tell me to I’ll leave, and you can walk down that aisle again— but let's not kid ourselves, you never wanted this, never wanted him,” His hand on my face made me melt slightly, and he was right, despite wanting to pay my mother and father back, this is nowhere near anything I wanted.

I swallowed thickly, weighing the options. If I married Rhen my parents would be happy and this would all be water under the bridge— but I’d suffer a life of being both a housewife and broodmare with a male who did not truly love me.

If I went with Azriel my parents would likely attempt to cleave us, unless Azriel paid them as he said he would, as long as gold was placed in their hands I doubted they’d have much argument— and I could be free to choose what I wanted with my life, I could accept my mating bond.

"But where will I go? What will I do?" I ask, my mind filled with questions that could only be answered by my future self.

"It's entirely up to you, you can live with me, or you can move to another court, whatever you choose. You'd be free." He stresses and my mouth gapes open, then closes. I look to the waves crashing against the shore only a few yards away, shouting at me to flee, to go with him.

All of it was too good to be true, Azriel coming to be my savior with this plan. It couldn’t be real and I needed him to punch me so I could wake up from this dream.

"Though I'd prefer if you stayed close, it's painful having you so far even right now— and you're only a city away, I can’t imagine a whole court,” He added and I looked back to him, a small smile pulling at the corners of my lips.

"I haven't even accepted the bond yet and you're already desperate." I tease.

"Yet?" He arched a scarred brow.

I flush a soft hue and avert my eyes again, this time settling them on the approaching figure that formed a knot of anxiety in my stomach.

"You're out of line, get your hands off my bride you bastard." Rhen spat and I flinched at the way he cursed the word, Azriel didn’t so much as shift, in fact, I could’ve sworn there was a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Out of line? No, I'm exactly where I should be, you're the one that's in my way." The shadow singer smoothly replied, Rhen snarled at his retort and grabbed me just above my elbow, his grip as tight and immovable as iron.

"Don't touch me." I gritted out, tugging at my arm but he didn’t budge and simply pulled me back towards where the officiant stood, uneasy on his feet.

"Come on, be a good little wife, and finish the damned ceremony," Rhen growled, and before I could take even another step towards the archway my fiancé halted, freezing in his footsteps as shadows wrapped around his limbs, his neck, encasing his body and shoving into his open mouth, restricting him of oxygen.

"She told you not to touch her Talor, so I'd highly suggest you let go or you won't have a hand anymore." The Spy Master’s voice was death incarnate, I had never heard anything so paralyzing in all my immortal life. It chilled me down to my very bone, and I thought that I might be carrion if I was ever on the receiving end of my mate's deathly stare.

Rhen’s hand releases me if only to grasp at his own throat, silently pleading with his eyes to have mercy.

The shadows released him and Rhen was sent running, sprinting as fast as he could away from the male that stood before me, now looking at me with an incredulous grin. Insane, he must’ve been insane— and I must’ve been too, to be so in love with that smile and the dimples that came along with it.

"You were seriously going to marry him?” He scoffed, hand coming to my arm and inspecting the area Rhen held me for any injury.

"Well, it wasn't really my choice," I grumble under my breath as Azriel lets go of my arm with a gentleness that rivaled his vicious exterior that occurred only moments ago.

Azriel’s eyes flicked over to the few remaining guests and I turned in the direction he stared, at my parents who were staring with both helplessness and fury in their eyes.

"Me and Cass will deal with them later, let's get you out of here, alright?" He tugged at the tether between us and my head whips back to him.

“Okay,” I nod and reach out, my hand finding his. His eyes soften as he pulls me into him, wrapping a wing around me and cocooning us in darkness before he utilizes his shadows to pull us into another realm entirely, it was only a brief moment of darkness and an empty void before my heels were on a hardwood floor and the sweet citrusy smell of Velaris flowed through my nose.

"We left Cass," I say, glancing around to find the second Illyrian nowhere to be found.

"He was in the midst of stuffing his face with bread rolls, I think he'll be just fine." Azriel half scoffed, half chuckled. He pulled away but before he could completely slip from my grasp my hand tightened on his and his brows lifted a fraction, eyes lighting with intrigue.

"Thank you." Is all I can manage to say.

"Don't thank me." He shakes his head. "I should have gotten you out of there far sooner." He spoke as if he was more dissatisfied with himself than anyone else.

"But still, when it mattered you came for me," I utter, taking a cautious step forward.

"You're my mate, even if you haven't accepted the bond, it's my duty to keep you safe— you shouldn't have even been out of my sights," He says, his voice soft as he looks down at me, hand squeezing mine.

"I wasn't, not really." I hum, gesturing down to the shadow that swirled around my ankle, the one that would always remain there.

He smiles at the thought, then says, "You look beautiful, by the way." His eyes flick down to my white gown and I follow his gaze, smiling softly at the dress, it had been the only thing that was my decision in this entire endeavor.

"I only wish that it was your choice to put that dress on, this morning," He added, as if reading my mind, and for a moment I wondered if the mating bond allowed him to see how I felt.

"It will be, one day," I nod confidently and his brows raise with insinuation. A gentle smile blooms across my lips and I cup his sharp jaw. “But for now, baby steps,” I suggest rising up onto my toes, leaning closer, placing a kiss on his adjacent cheek.

When I pulled back he was beet red and I giggled at the sight, it was a wonder that this male, who flushed at a chaste peck on the cheek, was also one of the most feared in Prythian.

“Right,” he swallowed down the lump in his throat, his hand only a phantom at my waist, hovering. "I'll have money sent to your parents by Dawn." He says, then quickly adds, “Even if they don’t deserve it.”

I smile brightly and pull away. “Thank you, Az,” I murmur.

“Anything, for you.” He confessed, and I knew he meant it. I smiled, thinking that in the morning I might reward him with some breakfast, in turn, accepted that golden tether between us and finally allowed myself to be happy, with a mate.

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Insufficient Pt. 2 | Azriel x Reader

Summary: Following the disastrous breakup between you and Azriel, Nesta invites you out to a night at Rita’s, where you then discover that you might not be as safe in Night Court as you think.

Word Count: ~ 4.3k

Warnings: Stalkings, nasty public bathrooms, alcohol, drunk people, obsessive behavior, painfully bad description of blackjack, etc

A/N: ok so I kinda switched gears with this one, I’m trying to flesh it out before introducing another man, but lmk if you liked it, or if you have any opinion on where you’d like it to go, hope you enjoy <3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Only a week had passed since the disastrous breakup between you and Azriel, and as it turns out, it was harder to get rid of him than you’d originally thought.

Beforehand, he’d always seemed so controlled and stoic, that even being one of the main problems in your relationship was that he couldn’t ever let go of control. Being in charge meant he felt safe and secure, regardless of his feelings.

He had always seemed almost above you at times, above groveling and begging in bed, above communicating his feelings and emotions normally as he just expected you to read his mind or moods despite the way he hid any kernel of emotion from his body language. However, all of that seemed to have changed.

After the breakup, you’d gone back to working in the bakery, working specifically in the back making bread with your family, so you wouldn’t have to see him when he came in, probably trying to hunt you down. The heat the ovens gave off also seemed to repel his shadows, for whatever reason, so they wouldn’t spy on you any more than they already had. Though he had come asking for you before at the counter, your family had always shut him down. You felt bad about it for a second, but thinking back, you also didn’t. He’d chosen his words, and he was only sorry because you were his mate.

You’d moved back into the family home for now, your relatives surrounding you in love and empathy, and plenty of righteous fury regarding Azriel, and even a few “I told you so.”’s from the older generations.

Nesta would come by to visit now and then, having tea with you and updating you on all the latest news and developments, if not just funny stories to bring your spirits up, such as Nyx swallowing an ancient coin that he got from Rhys’ desk, only to poop it out shiny and clean a few days later, or how Cassian got so drunk he jumped from the top of the townhouse into a nearby pool that belonged to a neighbor.

On the bad days, she would offer some quiet company, or even open up to you about similar things that happened to her in the past.

Specifically, her past relationship.

She didn’t give a name, simply the details that he was a poor man’s family, his father abused his mother, and he was no better. She only was going to marry him to let Feyre take better care of Elain, really, even if it ended up with her getting beaten by some pathetic man. And then she told you of the night she rejected him, and tried to break it off, and how she almost barely got away before he could take what wasn’t his.

You both sat in silence after that, your hand in hers.

Eventually, though, the conversation continued. You told her of the flowers that would mysteriously appear on your windowsill each morning. Neither of you knew how Azriel knew what room you occupied in your family’s home, or even how he knew your address or favorite type of flower, Ditch Lily’s, but he knew. Or the letters you received nightly, always carried by some bird of prey to your window, and would leave it there.

She snorted when you told her about the letters.

“He’s being ridiculous, seriously, even Cassian isn’t that bad. He only cares because you’re his mate, not because of who you actually are, and until he gets his shit together I wouldn’t even open them.”

She said, taking a sip of the herbal tea your mother had prepared for both of you. It was a special recipe, one that some of your distant relatives in Autumn Court had created, originally meant to relieve muscle tension and stress from overuse of magic, and even assist in alleviating burnout. You were mildly convinced that there might be some healer blood in you, because of that half of the family.

You could’ve sworn you felt a tiny tug on the bond at the mention of Azriel.

“I know, I’ve just been burning them, but he won’t leave me alone. Every shadow feels like they’re watching me now, and I just…”

You sighed, trailing off as your hand went to rub the bridge of your nose, and she gave a hum of acknowledgment, finishing your sentence for you.

“Don’t feel safe in the one place that you used to only feel safe in?”

You glanced up, eyes widening a bit. That was precisely how you felt.

“Yes, how..?”

She took another sip of her tea, glancing over to the window and looking out of it, eyes almost glazing over as some memory must’ve come to light.

“Beneath the House of Wind is the library, though I’m sure you’ve already heard of it. The priestesses stayed there, and it was always quiet, and something about it made me feel…safe, even when I was in an unfamiliar body in new surroundings, the world in the middle of a war.”

She said, and you nodded, waiting for her to go on. You knew plenty of the library beneath the House of Wind and how massive it was.

“One night, me and Feyre both descended nearly to the bottom, for what I can barely remember, and there were two twin males. Sent by Hybern, I think. They were taken out before they could do any harm, but the damage was still done. It took me quite a while to think of the library as a safe space after that.”

The glaze in her eyes faded away as she took another sip of her tea, looking more relaxed than before. She looked over at you, her eyes meeting yours.

“How did you get it back like that? A safe place, I mean.”

You then asked, and she looked away for a moment to think, a common habit of hers. One you’d noticed by now. Always noticing things, something you must’ve learned from Azriel, and as much as you hated the reminder of him, it was useful regardless.

“Changing environments helped me. During and after the war, we were always traveling a lot, which forced me to appreciate the thought of home more. Then again, home was also linked with Cassian for me.”

She said, thinking aloud before eventually speaking again.

“I’d try moving around a bit. Exercise helped me, especially travel and hiking, or breathing exercises. I could teach you a few if you’d like?”

She offered. You would be a fool to refuse any sort of advice or help from Nesta Archeron, and she’d never led you astray before, so you nodded, and she smiled brightly, clearly happy to show you.

The next few hours were spent in the backyard on whatever flat surface there was, practicing impossibly stretched that seemed like whoever made them wanted to turn you into a pretzel. Nesta managed them just fine but didn’t laugh when you fell, only helped you back up, telling you all about how when she’d first started training with Cassian, it had been just as hard for her too.

She’d even outright refused to do it the first few times.

However, after that, she showed you cool-down exercises and helped you practice breathing techniques.

“Wait, so…I hold it for how long?”

You asked, and she held back a giggle at the sheer confusion in your tone as she answered.

“Twenty seconds, but you can-“

“TWENTY??”

At that, she burst out laughing, and before you knew it you were laughing too, both of you laying back on the grass of the yard and hoping none of the seasonal bugs crawled up onto you. She finally sat up a moment later, wiping tears from her eyes as she stood and helped you up.

“Build up from five, you can start at five seconds and build up, is what I was going to say.”

She said, and you sighed.

“And I thought I was in shape before.”

You said in an amused tone, and she snorted again, only for the both of you to look over where you heard another loud snort and see Cassian standing, leaning against a large tree in the backyard. He was grinning widely as ever, his eyes full of pure glee.

“Having fun without me, ladies?”

He asked, putting a hand over his heart in a dramatic expression as he rolled his eyes, acting fatally wounded.

“Honestly, I’m hurt-“

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence before you barreled into him, giving him a tight hug that he chuckled at and returned, ruffling your hair. Nesta was soon to follow, and hugging him in a much more elegant manner than you.

When you finally separated, you spoke.

“Gods, I’ve missed you. We should let him come to tea time, too, Nesta.”

You said with a grin, and Nesta rolled her eyes playfully, squeezing his bicep. A tiny twinge of jealousy seemed to echo down the bond, as if Azriel had seen you hugging Cassian, and didn’t appreciate it. Another tug on the bond that you shut out, now hyper aware of any shadows.

“You’d be surprised at how much of a gossip he is, it’s never-ending with the Devlon-rumors.”

She said, and his expression shifted to playfully offended as he swatted at Nesta’s hand. You giggled, and Nesta glanced over at you, before gaining a thoughtful expression.

“We could do Rita’s tonight if you could make it?”

She asked, and Cassian gave a little nod as if also agreeing with this. You didn’t have any plans tonight, so why not spend a night out with your friends? It would certainly help you get your mind off of things.

“Sure, what time?”

You asked, head cocked slightly to the side. Nesta shrugged.

“Is 6 good for you?”

She asked, and you nodded in confirmation. She gave you one last smile before Cassian scooped her up to fly away.

“See you tonig-“

Her words were cut off with a little shriek as Cassian launched into the air at maximum speed just to spook her like he always did, and you giggled to yourself, heading back inside the family home. Unbeknownst to you, a shadowy figure lurked behind that tree after Cassian left, watching.

To be fair, the shifts were switched out now and then so everyone had a break, but he usually ended up babysitting. Despite his objections and complaints, he was good at it, sort of a baby-whisperer.

“Who was that pretty lady?”

He asked, a slight touch of color on his cheeks as you smirked with a knowing look.

“That was my friend, Nesta. She’s taken.”

You clarified for him, noticing the way his face fell in disappointment all too clearly before you patted your baby cousin on the head, and walked up to your temporary room. Maybe Nesta’s idea of traveling a bit and exploring different places was good. You had all of immortality ahead of you, after all. Might as well use it well.

You walked to your room, before going to the bathroom attached to it. You were more than lucky to get a room with a bathroom attached, and you knew it, since everyone bickered over who got to shower first and who had been in there too long for the normal bathroom in the hall. Stripping your clothes off, you turned the water on, letting it settle to a warm, but refreshing temperature.

You went through your entire hair routine and washed your body off, shaving and everything. Tonight was an everything shower. You wanted to look your best at Rita’s tonight, and you desperately needed a confidence boost after what Azriel had said to you.

Nearly half an hour later, your hair done all pretty, makeup on, and a pretty red dress gracing your form. You’d even painted your nails yourself, forgoing the usual stylist you went to for it.

By the time 6 had rolled around, you were almost to Rita’s, walking down the bustling streets of Velaris as the cool air blew by, the sun already beginning to set as early as it did in this season.

The moment you walked into the bar, already full of people, it only took a few seconds to spot Nesta and Cassian inside. Cassian was drinking and laughing his ass off with some other males, and doing arm wrestling that he never seemed to lose at, and Nesta was playing poker, and by the looks of it had already won a few games before based on the sly smile she wore.

You walked over and ordered your drink, nothing too strong, and decided that you could take a little time away from Nesta for now. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, considering she’d been listening to all of your problems every time she’d come over. It was probably best if you gave her a little alone time for herself.

Walking over to a table to try your hand at what looked like a boring game of blackjack, you were about to sit down when something captured your attention.

A lone shadow lurking beneath your feet.

You swallow, getting a weird feeling about it, but you simply stomped one foot down on it before sitting down, determined not to let something so small ruin this night for you. The cards were dealt, and you received a queen of spades and eight of clubs, and as the game progressed, you took risks, choosing to hit, and somehow miraculously not going over 21 the entire time. You felt the lightest tug on the bond, but ignored it.

It was mildly suspicious, considering how bad you usually were at cards. That was until you spied the same wispy shadow from earlier on the deck of cards, hiding in the normal shadow of it. It was discreetly moving cards, changing them for you to win.

Now incredibly annoyed, you excused yourself from the game and walked to the bathroom. Rita’s bathrooms weren’t extremely clean, but you just needed a place to take a breather.

You pushed the door open, not surprised by the few females in here who were either redoing their makeup or drunk out of their minds and crying. Oddly enough, though, they filed out almost as soon as you entered, some giving you off looks as you entered one of the stalls, sliding the lock closed, and sat on top of the toilet seat, pulling your knees to your chest.

Sure, things were weird tonight, but it was probably just Azriel trying to play mind games with you. He was a Spymaster. His entire job revolves around torturing information out of people and playing mental gymnastics to get what he wants from them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was now hyper-fixated on you, determined to get you back if only to feel better about himself.

You heard the bathroom door open, barely creaking as the lightest footsteps became apparent to you. Probably another drunk woman, or someone looking to fix their makeup or outfit. Nothing out of the usual, you told yourself, even as your body began stiffening and your heart rate sped up. A lock clicked. The bathroom door.

You couldn’t get a decent whiff of the stranger, whether it be the alcohol or the reek of the bathroom in and of itself. Not daring to open up the stall or peek out, you became still as a statue.

Nearly silent footsteps.

A knob creaked, probably the sink, and water began running at its maximum speed.

Another sink turned on.

Then another.

Until all the sinks were on.

Your heart began beating faster. Why would anyone turn all the sinks on, if not to cover up the noise of something else, or someone else making loud noises?

Louder, bolder footsteps in your stall’s direction.

Glancing down beneath the door, you could see a pair of thick, black leathery boots now standing in front of it. You recognized those. How could you not?

A certain shadowsinger’s shoes. His work shoes.

You didn’t dare move, even as you heard a knock against the stall. It would’ve seemed polite in any other situation, but not here, not now.

“I know you’re in there.”

His quiet voice spoke, still filled with that tension you’d seen in his eyes the day you’d decided to finally break free of him.

He knocked again.

“I’m sorry for what I said, I shouldn’t have said that, if you would please, please, just give me another chance, I’ve been trying to talk with you for days but you were busy, and when I saw you here tonight, I thought that maybe we could talk this out-“

He said, voice filled with pleading and desperation as he rambled on. You’d never heard him express so much emotion before in his voice. It was interrupted by the bathroom door almost being opened, despite it being locked. A bang on the door, and Nesta’s muffled voice was heard through the door.

“Bullshit, I’m getting a worker..”

Azriel must’ve known he had limited time now, because he banged on the stall door louder, a bit more panicked.

“Please, just open the door. I’m sorry, just let me in. We can figure this out.”

He said, now shaking the stall door with the handle, and you didn’t dare move. Didn’t speak, didn’t do anything other than sit and pray to whatever gods you believed in. The Mother. The Cauldron. Anything. Whatever would make him go away. You had known the respectful, kind Azriel. The one that had waited centuries for Mor and not pushed anything, even when she openly went to other males and pushed him away. The one who wouldn’t push any boundary, but this Azriel…you didn’t know him.

The jingling of keys outside the bathroom door was heard, the worker Nesta must’ve called, and a frustrated sigh came from the voice outside your stall.

You could almost see it now, him angrily running his hands through his inky black hair, shadows swirling and writhing in agitation as he tried to think on how to fix this.

“You can’t hide from me forever, you’re just confused right now. I will get you back.”

He spoke finally, before the bathroom door burst open, and his presence was completely gone. You released a shaky breath, not daring to move still, even as the worker cursed and began turning all the sinks off.

“Haven’t seen it that jammed in a long time,”

She muttered, walking out eventually, you unlocked the stall door when you felt alone, only to swing it open and Nesta to pop into your vision. You almost screamed, jolting backward and slamming your head into a wall. She raised her hands in mock innocence.

“Easy, it’s just me. I figured you might be in here when I couldn’t find you, and…..”

She looked you up and down, noticing how shaken and pale you seemed, and frowned. Tilting her head sideways, she asked the obvious.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You looked all around the bathroom, finding no sign of him anywhere, no moving shadows or dark presences.

“He was here, Nesta. He kept begging me to come out and—I don’t know what he would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”

You said, tears welling up before falling as you began sobbing. She frowned deeper, now scowling as she pulled you against her chest, worry filling her expression.

“It’s alright, I’ll take you home.”

She said, helping walk you out of the bathroom, and as she passed by Cassian she grabbed the big Illyrian by the ear and dragged him out of the bar, outside with fresh air. Cassian immediately looked concerned, brows furrowed, but one look from Nesta was enough for him to nod grimly as his expression darkened, the two of them no doubt communicating mentally as most mates did.

He scooped the both of you up, and despite the alcohol in his system, managed a decent flight to your house. He gave you a pat on the head before Nesta walked you inside, and as soon as the two of you were in the privacy of your room, she spoke.

“Look, I’ll tell Rhys to keep an eye on him, but it’s not like Azriel will listen to anything Rhys orders him to do regarding…this. Just…be careful.”

She said in a hushed tone, and you nodded weakly.

“I can’t stay here. Not when he’s..watching and following me.”

Nesta gave a little nod, as she understood, but she still looked concerned. She was friends with Azriel, you knew as much, but even this was pushing it.

“I have family in Autumn, I could go find them.”

You suggested, and she sighed.

“You do realize he could just have one of his shadows follow you? Unless you left without telling anyone, then…”

The both of you shared a glance, and in a moment, understood what you needed to do to get away. A stalker problem wasn’t one that you thought you would have, but Azriel was obsessive and possessive, even after you’d thrown out all the flowers he’d left, and burnt all the letters you’d given him. He wouldn’t stop at anything, no matter what boundaries you tried to set.

You dragged the duffel bag out from under your bed, the same one you had used to pack your things the day you’d left and began shoving clothes into it, clothes that would suit a few days of travel in the wilderness. You nearly tore your dress off, shoving dark clothing that covered almost every bit of your skin.

If you headed through the main routes of the Court traveling system, Azriel could easily find you. The mating bond would only make it easier from there.

Nesta began helping, choosing clothes from your closet that she deemed acceptable and neatly arranging everything in the duffel bag.

“Are you going to tell your family?”

She asked quietly, and you sighed.

“My grandmother, she’d understand. She fled Autumn when she was younger, some long story about escaping a lover from the royal family.”

You said as you continued packing, and hurried down the stairs. Everyone was asleep this late, except for your grandmother for her nightly tea session. She was sitting in the living room, sipping away, and her eyes shifted to you. Despite her young form, her eyes were old and carried a wisdom you couldn’t explain.

“Grandma, I can’t explain, but-“

“You need to leave, I understand. Under the stairs, there is food. I expected this. Find your great aunt in Autumn.”

That made you pause for a moment, eyes widening, a little twinkle in her eye, and a small mischievous smirk made its way onto her face as she saw your confusion.

“I am not nearly as oblivious as you think I am, now go. Time is of the essence.”

She said, making a little waving motion, and you hurried off to find the little place under the stairs, opening the tiny area beneath it through the small cabinet door, rations were stashed there just like she’d said. You grabbed them, and hurried back up the stairs, and walking into your room you shoved it into the now-full duffle bag and zipped it up. Nesta gave you a confused look when she saw all the pre-prepared food you somehow had, but you only shrugged and she moved on.

“You’re going to need a way to travel, it’ll be thousands of miles to Autumn.”

She said, and you sighed, looping your arm through the handles of the duffle bag and throwing it over your shoulder as you hurried down the steps again, trying to be quiet for the sake of your sleeping family.

Nesta followed you out of the front door as you shut it, Cassian still standing outside, quietly watching with that same grim look on his face as you hopped your neighbor's fence, running across the mass of property they had in the backyard, straight to the small horse stables they had. You went in and opened the first one you could find, a dark-colored mare with a splotchy white stripe down her face, and some white near her hooves.

Pulling the winter coat off of her the gentlest you could, you scrambled to find a bridle that fit the mare as she stomped nervously, and you eventually found one and slipped it on, the horse not seeming eager to get the bit in its mouth, even though you managed to get it in.

Nesta caught up with you and glanced from you to the horse.

“You are crazy.”

She said though she had a slight smirk as she said it. You sighed, grabbing the reins and leading the mare outside of its stall, and you glanced over to Nesta.

“Give me a leg up?”

You asked with a small attempt at a grin, and she sighed, shaking her head in fond exasperation as she held her hands out for you to put your foot in, and you did, and she counted down from three before hoisting you up over the horse.

The large animal did not seem happy about that, either. But despite its protests, and the fact that you were riding it bareback because taking care of a bridle, saddle, stirrups and more was probably more than you could handle, you managed.

“Tell Rhys to ignore anyone complaining of a missing horse for me, will you?”

You said with that weak little half-grin, and she returned it.

“Sure, I can manage that.”

She said in an amused tone.

A moment of silence passed, before she swallowed, and spoke.

“Be careful. Don’t get yourself killed.”

She said, and you nodded, laughing softly.

“I won’t. Once I’m..safe, I’ll figure out a way to let you know. I promise.”

The inky mark of your oath spread around both of your wrists, reminding you of the promise. You didn’t know how you’d tell her without anyone else, or a specific shadowsinger catching wind of where you were, but you would figure it out.

The wind blew by, and you swallowed again.

“Well…I guess this is goodbye.”

“For now.”

She replied, and you nodded.

“For now.”

And with that, she gave a single nod and began walking back over to Cassian, who offered a dip of his head in goodbye. You gently nudged the horse with your foot, gathering up the reigns, and it jolted forward, taking any excuse to run wild after being cooped up in a stall for so long.

It hopped the fence easily, despite how you almost fell off and began bounding off before you adjusted it Southeast, where you would skirt the boundaries of Night Court, and then head to Autumn.

Into Autumn, where freedom loomed, and into Autumn, where the threat of more than just your self-discovery loomed as well.

Tags:

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@fxckmiup

[m-oddinsdottir]

COLD STEEL

the shadowsinger and the traitor .ˊˎ 🗡️

Azriel x Fem! Reader

Words: 2,674

Warnings: takes place in acowar so it may contain SPOILERS from previous books, archeron sister reader, use of a dagger, reader is tied up, angst, betrayal, no use of y/n, mating bond, fluff, images above do not depict reader’s appearance it’s just for aesthetic and I think that’s it

Summary: When your real intentions are discovered by the Inner Circle of the Night Court, you have to face the consequences. Your mate and the cold steel of Truth Teller.

A/N: friendly reminder that english isn’t my first language so please feel free to correct me <3 this is my first one shot for acotar so of course it had to be about azriel

Masterlist

•••

Gods, how did you end up in this situation? Wrists tied behind your back and a rope that served as a muzzle inside your mouth to prevent yourself from making any sound… Any sound that could mess up with your mate's closed-up mind.

No. You knew exactly why you were there. It was all your fault and because of what? A blinding desire for revenge? Or perhaps it was childish behavior that had made you reach out to the wrong person?

But you were young. Immature. Compared to all those creatures you had sworn once in your life to hate and that now your sister considered a family. They were centuries old, you were just turned twenty-one when it happened.

Twenty-one before your mortality had been taken away from you, in front of your eyes, while you were slowly sunk inside that turbid water of what they had called "The Caldroun"... A powerful source of magic, creator of the world known and theft of yours and your sisters' mortality.

But as theft, as The Cauldron was, it was also generous. So it gifted powerful abilities that seemed to differ from others in that magical end of The Wall.

As a mortal, your impulsivity sometimes took a thick control over your logical sense. And when you were turned High Fae, that only increased. The process of adaptation was hard. You could hear, see, and feel everything. Everything you had ignored before. And the desperation of not knowing how to stop it made you act.

And the King of Hybern was the only solution.

Or so you thought, less than a year as an immortal and you had already made your biggest mistake. He promised he would help you with the emerging powers. You believed him. He swore that if you desired it, he would return your mortality. You believed him. He convinced you it was all Feyre's fault. You believed him.

And the only requirement? You would become his spy. All you had to do was watch and tell. And you stupidly agreed.

Easy job. You already hated all of them... It was their fault you had ended up being swallowed by the Cauldron and resurfaced as one of them. You just had to do as the King said, keep Nesta and Elain protected until the King would turn the three of you mortal again, and then... Then you would figure it out. It was easy, right?

It was easy knowing that you were working with the male who plotted to kill the sister who had saved you from starvation. Even easier witnessing the love they shared, the love of a family... A family bonded by the drawbacks of time and the burdens they had fought together.

Gods...

And it was even easier to betray the male who had silently been by your side, wanting to help and protect you without being invasive. His quiet and cold presence was even more reassuring than a gentle caress or a hug and before you realized, you desired to spend more time with him... Not only in silence.

When the bond snapped, it wasn't a surprise but a relief for Azriel to be able to call you his mate... On the other hand, for you, it was what changed everything.

You were trapped, being suffocated by the feeling of betrayal and consternation. And every time you slept by his side when you were in the comfort of being surrounded by him and him only, silent tears escaped your eyes.

Said eyes widened slightly when he entered the stance where you had been tied up. Azriel was silent, but not his usual comforting silence. The male that looked at you now was someone completely different from the male that held you through the nights, wings wrapped around your body to shield you from any harm.

Your eyes moved lower to his scarred hands, eyes closing tightly as you noticed that Azriel was gripping Truth Teller. The dagger's blade caught the only traces of light that filtered through the darkness of the room and your throat closed as the tears began to pool in your closed eyes, dropping down your cheeks into the muzzle.

Azriel didn't say a word as he approached you. He didn't even flinch when he saw your tears as he usually did every time you cried in front of him. No, he just moved to free you from the muzzle around your lips.

He was determined to make you talk. Your mate seemed willing to torture you until he got any valuable information out of you... Or, at least, an explanation.

Your heart ached at the thought and unconsciously your pain traveled through the bond making Azriel's breath hitch before he shook his head.

‘Azriel...’ You mumbled beggingly, your voice sounding strained with emotion. But not because of the muzzle, the rope around your wrists, or the thought of being tortured... Those were the least of your concerns as you observed the male before you.

He didn't answer. ‘Azriel, please...’ You tried again and he looked into your eyes, no emotions visible in his hazel irises. Almost as if he had shut them down. A sob escaped your lips. ‘Please, please... Just—’

Azriel interrupted you. ‘You are not going to trick me anymore.’

The coldness in his words made you fight against the ropes that were wrapped around your wrists. ‘I didn't—!’ Lie. You did trick everyone into thinking you were harmless. ‘Please, Azriel... I swear I—’

‘Were you forcefully compelled to work with Hybern?’

‘No, but—’

His firm voice interrupted you before you could try to justify yourself. ‘Did you not spy on us... On me and shared that information with Hybern?’

‘Azriel, please—’

‘Were you not condemning us to a certain death by sharing that information?’

A sob escaped your lips and you couldn't hold his gaze anymore, looking down at the ground before yelping when his scarred hands roughly held your chin and forced you to look at him. His fingers squeezing your cheeks.

‘Were you not condemning me to death?’ Azriel asked again.

‘I didn't know what else to do.’ You mumbled and then the cold steel of Truth Teller pressed against your trembling throat. Holding back the need to sob, your gaze locked with his.

‘And betraying your family and your mate was the best option?’

‘The bond hadn't snapped when I...’ Azriel pressed the blade closer to your throat but despite his threat, you noticed he was being gentle... The blade was raised upwards to prevent it from slicing your throat and even if he was gripping it tightly, the pressure against your neck was minimal.

You looked behind him and noticed how his own shadows were trying to move him away from you. The dark tendrils were trying to protect you.

‘Look. At. Me.’ He spoke coldly, fingers squeezing your cheeks again. ‘You still betrayed your sisters... And then betrayed me when you kept going.’

‘What did you expect me to do? To suddenly cut connections with Hybern? Yeah, that probably wouldn't raise suspicions, Azriel.’ You managed to mumble, a small frown of frustration over your features as you looked at him through the blur of your tear-filled eyes.

He held his breath as he analyzed you, his eyes scanning the tears that stained your cheeks and how your brows furrowed together. ‘You could have told me.’

‘And then what? The same damn situation we're dealing with now.’ His fingers around your chin squeezed tightly pulling you forward to him. His nose brushed against yours as breaths mingled together. Gods, his turmoil was so tangible that you could smell the inner fight he was struggling with.

He breathed in your scent. ‘I would have helped you... I would have understood you.’

‘Are you understanding me? Are you helping me?’

Azriel called your name in frustration before he roughly shoved your head back. Desperately needing to create some distance between you, he held your chin so that you couldn't lean in closer. ‘Don't say that as if that's not the only thing I long for. Help you, protect you, shield you.’

Hearing the desperation in his voice had you holding your breath. The guilt invades your lungs in a choking sensation instead of the so-desired oxygen. But that's what you deserved, after everything.

‘I...’ Your strained voice broke the silence as you finally looked into his eyes. ‘I just wanted my mortality back, Azriel...’ He sighed shakily before his hand holding Truth Teller moved down. ‘Everything's been so...’ Your voice broke and his other hand moved up to cup your cheek.

‘I know, I know...’ He mumbled and his eyes met you, the same warmth in which he usually held your gaze.

‘I didn't know what else to do... I was so furious with Feyre and I—... I just thought about bringing our mortality back.’ You admitted referring to your sisters before Azriel shushed you, the hand holding Truth Tuller moving down to cut the ropes that held your shoulders to the pole so that at least you could rest your weight against him. However, he kept the ropes around your wrists and legs.

When your head gently hit his shoulder resting against him, his hand moved up to cup the back of your head. Whispering sweet words to reassure you as he held you in his arms, trying to silence your tears as he brushed his lips along your temple.

‘If I could go back, I swear I'll do it... I—’ You trailed off when he began massaging your scalp bringing a sense of calm to your trembling body. ‘Ever since the bond snapped, I've been giving him confusing information. Half-lies... Or entirely nothing. I swear...’

‘I know, baby, I know.’

His words made you nuzzle your nose more against his shoulder. ‘Please, you have to believe me... Please.’

His hand over your cheek pulled you back so you could look into his hazel eyes. Gods, those irises... You could sink into them and get lost in that pool of golden brown. And you would do it willingly. They were your anchor. He was your anchor. Your strength and your liability, both at the same time.

‘I believe you.’ Azriel assured you. Then, the strength of your bond hit you so hard that it caught your breath away. The golden thread looked tangible as it swirled as a bridge between your souls and there you could feel his honesty and concern.

‘I don't know what to do.’ You confessed in a shaky whisper and he rested his forehead against yours. ‘Gods, please hate me. It's way easier than this... Hate me, Az...’ You begged him.

Azriel shook his head before his lips pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead. Rejoicing the feeling, a soft sigh escaped your lips. ‘I don't hate you. I could never hate you.’

‘You should.’

‘I don't want to,’ Azriel repeated before he gently called your name. The word rolled off his tongue with a soothing tone to it. ‘I don't hate you, baby... And neither does Feyre, nor either of the others.’

When a small sob escaped your lips, his dagger swiftly cut the rope that held your arms and wrists and you were able to wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace.

Finally.

Your torso was pressed against his, the soft flesh in your body caressing the hardness of the centuries-trained muscles over his chest and abdomen. Azriel immediately encircled your waist. He needed this. To feel you closer. To know you weren't a threat.

‘No one hates you.’ He assured you gently ‘Elain... She saw your intentions through one of her... Visions,’ Azriel's face contorted into discomfort at the thought of your younger sister having such a powerful ability that she didn't know how to control ‘She defended you and I... I wanted to see it for myself, see that you... That you at least had some regret.’

He loathed the thought of what he had planned to do before entering that room.

‘I wanted to torture you until you would give me something... Anything.’ Azriel admitted and you felt his pain and self-hatred through the bond. ‘But I... Seeing you like this, I can't— I don't...’ His grip on you tightened.

‘Azriel...’ You mumbled but he interrupted you.

‘I know you regret it.’ The Shadowsinger mumbled and his dark tendrils roamed down to free you from the rope around your legs. The minute you were free you wrapped one leg around him bringing the male closer to you. ‘Now I see it.’

You two fell into a comfortable silence. He brought you comfort and so did you to him. It was as simple as that.

‘If I hadn't felt any regret...’ You began gently only stopping for a second when the male growled. His chest vibrated roughly, so you placed one hand over the hard tattooed flesh. ‘Would you have done it? Torture me?’

The Ilyrian male froze under the weight of your question. Was that what you believed of him? Did you think he would do you any harm? The mere idea made Azriel want to go through every single torture himself.

‘No.’ He spoke firmly and his eyes met yours again when he pulled away. ‘No. Never...’ Azriel shook his head and then it seemed as if something broke inside him. ‘Never... never...’

He repeated over and over again as he slowly closed the distance between your lips. Lazily, his lips crashed against yours tasting the saltiness of your lips. ‘Never...’ He repeated over your lips. ‘Don't ever suggest it again.’ Azriel mumbled with pain.

His hand moved up to tangle around your hair as he kissed you again, this time it was messier... The male was shaking as he captured your lips with his and he gently pulled away when you choked one of your sobs against his mouth, more tears silently falling and making the kiss even messier if it was possible. A small frown adorned his face as he pulled you closer by the waist after backing away.

‘What can I do?’ You asked, voice strained and tears falling down your cheek until they would wet the dark fabric of his shirt. ‘Please, Azriel, what can I do to amend it?’

His sigh was warm against the skin of your neck and his lips pressed a gentle kiss against the sensitive skin provoking a shiver that ran down your spine. ‘Nothing. You don't need to do anything...’

‘I do.’ You insisted and he shook his head, burying his nose even more into the crook of your neck.

‘You don't.’

‘Azriel...’

‘I... Cassian may have said something earlier that could not be a terrible idea.’ Azriel mumbled against your skin before he moved backward to look into your eyes and seeing your raised brow he sighed. ‘But I don't want you to get in danger just to...’

‘Just to make it up for you? Enough reason.’ You whispered, chin tilted backward to brush your lips against his. ‘I am capable of making my own decisions, Azriel.’

His small grin widened as he answered, ‘I know that,’ when your lips pressed against his in small, gentle pecks. Yet, he couldn't help but keep talking. ‘This shouldn't be allowed… You're compelling me with your kisses.’

‘Am I now? What a shame... Poor Spymaster can't handle some kisses?’

The moment he confessed, ‘Not when they're yours,’ you couldn't help but stifle a giggle. You paused your kisses and instead nestled your nose against his, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

‘Please, Azriel... Just tell me what I can do.’

He groaned under his breath when your presence clouded his thoughts. ‘Cassian mentioned that you could gather information for us… Misinform Hybern and extract intel from him.’

Your brow raised with interest.

‘Perhaps I could teach you the art of espionage, my mate... Be one of my spies… What do you think?’ Azriel mused, his gaze penetrating as he locked his gaze with yours.

Oh, how the tables had turned on Hybern.

[riddlesb1tch]

Morning Person

Azriel x reader

summary: reader is not a morning person and Cassian becomes the victim of her grumpiness

warnings: none!

Masterlist

The sun’s early morning rays shone through the window and onto your face, rousing you from your peaceful sleep. You turned away from the window and onto your back, feeling around the other side of the bed. Azriel wasn’t there. You opened your eyes to look around the room in search of your mate but he was nowhere to be seen. 

You got the answer of his whereabouts when you heard loud, boisterous laughter coming from the kitchen downstairs. The family must have come over for breakfast, and your sweet, wonderful and considerate mate had let you sleep in. 

A small smile made it to your face from this act of kindness as you sat in bed. You stretched like a cat in the sun, taking a couple of minutes to regain consciousness before going down to the kitchen for your morning coffee. 

Everyone’s heads turned to you as you entered the kitchen. Rhys, Feyre, Cassian, Nesta, Mor and Elain were all situated around the round table with beverage cups in hand, while Azriel stood leaning against the shelf at the opposite corner, hands braced against the edge.

He smiled as you walked in. 

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Cassian said teasingly. 

You ignored Cassian, giving him the finger and moving to hug Azriel, making Cassian gape in offence.

You wrapped your arms around Azriel’s waist and cuddled into his chest. 

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Azriel mumbled, kissing your crown. 

“Good morning, Azzie,” you said with a smile, kissing his chest. 

You heard Cassian gasp in offence behind you before he asked, “How come he gets a good morning while I get the finger?” 

“Because he’s Azriel and you’re not,” you replied. 

“She’s got a point, brother,” Rhysand said teasingly.

You heard your family around the table laughing at your response while you had no doubts Azriel had a shit-eating grin on his face aimed at Cassian.

After a couple more seconds, you let go of Azriel and moved to the coffee machine next to him, setting your favourite cup into the slot. Then you turned around to the rest of your family while you waited for the coffee. 

Cassian was whining to his mate who only rolled her eyes at the General’s antics. 

“I’m sorry, Cassie,” you said with a mocking pout. When Cassian huffed and turned away from you, you laughed and went over, kissing his cheek in apology.

The action brought a smile to Cassian’s face but your mate certainly didn’t like it since he moved forward and wrapped an arm possessively around your waist while glaring daggers at Cassian. 

Cassian teasingly smirked at Azriel and said, “You know, y/n, if it doesn’t work out between you and Azriel, you can always join me and Nesta.” 

You rolled your eyes at the general. “Cassian I assure you, if for some reason Azriel and I aren’t together, I’d much rather live with Bryaxis than you.” 

Cassian was offended once again while your whole family laughed. Even Nesta managed a small smile.

Masterlist

[utterlyotterlyx]

Starstruck

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - Azriel had never wished upon a star, and after finding you, he wished he had done it sooner.

Warnings - FLUFFFFFFF, a touch of angst and sadness

There were thirteen stars that streaked across the skies during Starfall, Azriel had resound himself to noting each one as they made their journey across the same canvas each year, watching how they danced between one another and entranced the city with their show.

He sometimes wondered just how perfect someone had to be in order to be one of them, to shine so brightly and to be so adored that a whole city would wait an entire year to watch them for just a fleeting moment.

After watching for so long, Azriel knew each of them in his own special way, but he had always been particularly drawn to the singular star that always drifted to the back of the colony, like it was trying to stay for just a moment longer, and he could have sworn that he felt it watching him on more than one occasion, even when it twinkled idly in the sky and pulsed with pearlescent light.

One particular Starfall, Azriel gave in to his infantile wonder that perhaps wishing on a star would make all of his dreams come true, dreams that he had never spoken of to anyone. As silly as it felt, Azriel forced himself to close his eyes just as the stars began their dance; he inhaled deeply and wished, what for he'd never tell, but he did it.

In the days that followed, Azriel felt that tiny spark of hope evaporate within him, such showed in his tendrils of shadow who were feeling a little heavier than usual, less mischievous too. Cassian had noticed it, it was only small really and he was surprised that it was him who had caught it, but he knew Azriel better than anyone, he'd notice any slight change.

"What's wrong?" Azriel's chest was glistening in the last dwindling glance of sunlight, rising and falling rapidly as he worked to slow his breathing from his latest training session with Cassian.

Azriel spared Cassian a side-long glance and moved to unwrap his knuckles, the bandages winding onto the ground, "Nothing," he cast his eyes down to his knuckles, bruised and bloody and also throbbing from the impact of Cassian's abdomen, the feeling didn't do much to tempt his thoughts.

"Bullshit," Cassian cursed softly, "You're you but not. Tell me what's going on Az."

Sighing, slightly agitated, Azriel turned to his brother, noticing the stars leaking in from the distance, "I want my mate. I want what you and Nesta have, and Feyre and Rhys. I thought that maybe it was my turn next," his heart stung with the knowing of Lucien and Elain's accepted mating bond, he glanced behind Cassian, seeking comfort in something other-worldly, "I wished it."

Azriel hadn't meant to make Cassian feel guilty, he was glad that Cassian had found his mate, someone to love for the rest of his days., but it didn't stop him from feeling more alone than he had ever felt in his life.

The raw emotion in his voice caused Cassian to stand speechless before him, "I'm going to go for a walk, clear my head."

Without another word, Azriel shrugged his shirt over his head and took off into the skies, unable to look back at the pained expression on Cassian's face. Part of him was ashamed for his feelings, he was Spymaster of the Night Court, anyone who loved him would be in constant danger, perhaps that was why he hadn't been gifted with a soul-bound other.

Landing on the cobbled streets of Velaris, Azriel began trapsing through the city with his head hung low, not particularly paying attention to anything until his shadows coiled around his arms and tugged at him. The Shadowsinger scoffed, pushing himself onward and choosing to ignore his companions, only barking at them when they swam over his face and restricted his vision; Azriel swatted at them, "What?"

One particular shadow, the one most prone to dancing and becoming lost in someone's hair, hovered before his eyes, waltzing into the night-kissed air and forcing Azriel to focus. He hadn't realised how far he'd walked until he took a moment to scan the area, he had wandered all the way down to the Sidra, so much being clear from the bubbling drifting from the riverbank as the water sang over the rocks.

Then he heard something that made his heart skip, a soft hum, no louder than a hummingbird, winding down the cobbled path to meet his ears. It was sweet and calm, full of life and serenity, and he couldn't stop himself from following it.

His shadows shivered with each step, each one becoming more active with every metre forward they were carried until they saw you, you were kneeling in the water that perfectly reflected the sky, fingers dipping beneath the surface whilst it swam by you. Your hair was unbound and kissing the surface in a way that sent small ripples through it whenever they would collide.

Azriel stood on the bank and watched you, not being able to place you in his mind, he listened to your song, unwilling to stop his shadows from drawing themselves toward it. Only when those tendrils of darkness grazed against your skin did the song halt, it was replaced by a soft giggle, one that could have made the darkness part to allow in the sun if it wished it.

"Can I help you?" The shadows shuddered at your question, convicted to dancing to the sound of your melodic tone, coiling around the finger you had raised to your eyes to inspect them closer, "How peculiar."

The drenched skirt of your pale blue dress pooled at your feet when you stood, but you didn't take your eyes off of the shadows. And, as if realising how potentially rude they were being, Azriel moved to intervene, to beckon them back to his side, "I'm sorry, they don't seem to want to listen to me today."

Turning to face him, Azriel lost every thought in his mind, the only one lingering in his consciousness being that you were easily the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, "It's alright, I don't mind," you told him with a smile as wide as the Sidra. His shadows continued to dance around you, slithering into every gap possible to just be as close as they could, "Who are you?"

Azriel was slightly taken back by the question, everyone knew who he was, and he didn't mean to feel egotistical when he thought that, most people were afraid of him, and everyone in the city certainly knew who he was. "I'm Azriel," he attempted to call back his shadows but they refused to leave you, he had half a mind to waltz right up to you and pluck them from your skin, but he stayed put, "Who are you?"

"Y/N." Beautiful.

"I haven't seen you here before."

The moon reflected off the surface of the Sidra,

Humming softly, you glanced about with a furrowed brow, like you were trying to find something familiar until your eyes dragged upward and settled on the sky, "And where is here?"

"Velaris. The City of Starlight."

"Starlight," your voice drifted, eyes unwavering in their upward gaze, "How pretty."

Perhaps Azriel should have been cautious of you, the beautiful thing with the long hair and voice as tempting as a siren's, but he wasn't, not even a little bit. If anything, Azriel had found a comfort within you despite only being in your presence for a mere few moments.

After a few moments, your wandering eyes returned to earth and you moved past him, up toward the cobbled path he had strayed from to find you, "Can I walk you home?"

Turning on the balls of your feet, you grinned at him and continued backward, "I'll be fine."

Azriel took a single step forward, "Will I see you again?"

"If you wish it," you told him with a knowing smirk, one that he didn't recognise, before turning from him and disappearing into the night, leaving Azriel wondering just exactly who you were to be able to cause his shadows continue to whisper your name into the darkness.

The next time Azriel saw you was in the Palace of Threads and Jewels, he had only caught a glimpse of you, but your scent of jasmine and pine lingered where you once stood. Azriel excused himself away from Nesta and Feyre, both of who glanced to his hurried form as he retreated from them.

Rounding a corner, he found you inspecting a bouquet of night lilies, your fingers gliding across the velvety petals with a genteel smile on your lips, one that widened when his shadows curled around your ankles, "Hello again," you called to them endearingly, beckoning them up to your fingers where they happily rested whilst you brushed the tip of your nose again them.

Azriel felt his heart clench at the action, and he only pulled himself from his entranced state when you graced him with your attention, "Hello to you too, Azriel," your hands were folded neatly behind your back, his shadows now resting on your shoulders.

"Hello," he took a step forward, and then he noticed just how small you were in comparison to him by the way you craned your neck up to look at him, "I knew I'd see you again."

A grin formed on your lips, "Did you wish it?"

"Perhaps,” Azriel folded his arms across his chest and drank you in, the pinned back hair and the baby whips that floated over your forehead, the white dress that hugged you in all of the perfect ways, and those bright doe eyes tinged with a touch of mischief.

"Then consider your wish granted,” the heel of your shoe clicked against the floor, the aroma of fresh roses and foliage filling the air, and you cocked your head at him slightly as if appreciating his beauty, “How have you been?”

In all honesty, Azriel had been feeling much better since that night he left Cassian after training, and that was because of you. Azriel couldn’t stop thinking about you, how lost you seemed but also not afraid, how gentle you seemed, and your voice, he couldn’t get it out of his head. Without wanting to admit it, Azriel had been looking for you, lazily, but with a hope he thought he had lost. And now there you stood, as pretty at the petals that drifted along the floor.

“I’ve been alright,” he leaned against the pillar of the stop, angling his body into you. It had been an age since someone had asked how he was, especially in the way that you asked, with genuine intrigue and care. “How have you been?”

Smiling, you answered, “I’ve been good,” you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and giggled softly as a shadow flowed through your hair.

“I’d like to get to know you,” he said with gentle conviction and you couldn’t help but blush, enjoying the sight of those soft eyes and rough exterior clad in black pants and a matching long sleeved cotton shirt.. “If you’d let me?”

“I wouldn’t say no,” you shrugged and took a step forward, close enough to scent the cedar on his clothes, “What are you doing right now?”

“Nothing,” Azriel internally cursed himself for responding so fast, showing his eagerness to spent more than a moment under the moon with you.

With a knowing smirk you huffed out a laugh, “Well, walk with me? I want to explore a little.”

Not needing another word, Azriel pushed himself from the beam and stepped aside for you to slip past him, slowly meandering through the market and observing everything that you could.

“Where is it that you live?” Azriel asked, happy to simply watch you scan the shelves and touch anything that looked soft.

Without looking back, you answered his question with a voice as warm as summer rain, “A little cabin by the streams,” the cotton of your bag brushed against your skirt as you swayed from side to side, craning your head and standing on your tiptoes to glance at the top shelves.

Azriel knew the place, he had always been drawn to it, the white window frames that turned yellow in the golden light that poured from insane, the thatched roof that was almost plaited in the finest of knots, and the tiny garden erected toward the back facing the forest where an array of flowers of all breeds bloomed and basked.

“And you? Where do you live?”

You led Azriel down the cobbled streets, picking up trinkets and admiring their beauty before placing them back on the shelves, “I live in the House of Wind,” from your furrowed brow, he knew that you didn’t know of it; Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders and turned you gently, reaching beneath your chin to angle your head upward, “Up there.”

“It looks beautiful,” you hummed, “You’re very lucky.”

“Yes, I am,” you missed how he looked to you when he spoke, captured by a gleaming stone resting on a plush cushion.

Closing the gap, you took the stone in your hand, resting it in your palm and letting the chain sway against your wrist, “It’s so beautiful,” you spoke in a tone a hush above a whisper, the rustle of a curtain begged your focus and you glanced up to see an elderly woman approaching you.

“A beautiful stone for a beautiful lady,” her voice rasped, but her kind eyes were fixated upon you, smiling in their own way.

“How much?” Azriel asked, appearing behind you with a twinkle in his eye.

“Azriel, no. It’s too much,” you protested, it was an ornately beautiful jewel, a white stone that reflected against the cloth of the ceiling that billowed in the breeze, “I can’t.”

Azriel, nodding his silent message to the shopkeeper, took the chain in his marred fingers and draped it around your neck, clasping it at the back and watching as your fingers reached to brush against it, “It was made for you.”

“Thank you,” you turned around to face him, and it took every ounce of willpower to not brush his fingers against your cheek.

The dropping sun cast its glow over your face, and Azriel gasped slightly, the sun turning your eyes molten and pristine, and felt the golden thread within him thrum into place. For a moment, the world seemed clearer, his senses heightened and your scent seeped into the foundations of his being.

From the look on your face, you had also felt it, your lips had parted slightly and your eyes were wide and glistening, “It’s you,” he was in disbelief, but his heart sang when you rested a hand over his heart, “You’re my mate.”

A gentle nod confirmed it, and Azriel couldn’t stop his hand this time from brushing against your cheek, his thumb dragging over your skin, “Yes.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever find you,” he whispered, “You’re real?”

“I’m real,” you entwined your fingers with his and brought them to your lips, kissing the marred flesh of his knuckles, “I’m here.”

Azriel struggled accepting that someone as perfect as you had been chosen to be his.

He didn’t want to rush you into anything, he wanted you to be comfortable, but he’d be lying if he said that every single part of him wasn’t irrevocably obsessed with you.

But when you met his family for the first time, and held Nyx and rocked him to sleep, did Azriel know that there was no one more made for him than you. Nesta and Feyre adored you from the moment they laid eyes on your sweet smile and large eyes, they had practically whisked you away to a separate sofa to probe and gossip with you. After you had spoken to Cassian and Rhys, his brothers moved to him with wide smiles, telling him that you were perfect.

Then there was Nyx who cried every time someone tried to take him from you, his nuzzled into your side, resting his head against your chest as he slept.

In the months that followed, his adoration for you only grew, and the night you had accepted the bond had been the most magical moment of his life. And not long after, he made you his wife in the most ornately warm ceremony the city had ever seen.

Each day was full of love and laughter, he moved into the cabin with you, and enjoyed every single moment of his life knowing that you were the one waiting for him at the end of the day.

Starfall had rolled around again, reminding Azriel that it was the same night a year ago that caused him to wish for you. He stood with you on that balcony, a stones throw away from the rest of his, and now your, family as the skies opened and the stars began their descent.

“I’ve never seen it like this before,” you uttered, hands resting on his forearms that were wrapped around your waist.

The stars soared, but their usual course was disrupted by their decision to fly toward the balcony. They hovered before you and Azriel and he felt your body leave his embrace, your fingers outstretched to float between the stars that waltzed around your body, “I’ve missed you too,” you told them, skin glittering with their kiss.

Bewildered, Azriel watched you have a conversation with the stars that painted the sky each night. Frowning, he counted the stars, noticing each one as the ones he knew and named, the same ones he created stories and lives for, to only find that one was missing, the last one who always lingered. Then his eyes moved to you and he wondered how he hadn’t realised it before.

The last star was you.

It made sense, you had always shone so brightly in comparison to others. Everyone had always felt settled around you, and Azriel had just thought that it was your serenity that caused it, but no, it was because you were a star.

“You’re a star,” that’s why you didn’t know where you were that night he had found you, it’s because you had fallen from the sky and landed his city, his home.

Smirking slightly, you walked into his open arms, sighing as the stars moved around you, “I prefer to say a wish come true.”

Azriel, chuckling at your words, hooked a finger beneath your chin and pulled your eyes upward, his breath fanned over your face. “If I’d have known then I would have wished for you a lot sooner.”

Authors Note

Just a little one from me 😚

[bldhrry]

loml

Cassian x Reader Summary: You, Cassian, and the entire world knew you were mates until you weren't. Masterlist

word count: 4.8k

warnings: sadness

author's note: been sitting on this one for a minute. thank you taylor swift for writing the saddest song to exist. as always lmk what you think!

You were young when you met Cassian, a footsoldier, at the war camp you had been stationed at as a healer, but you knew then that he was the one you were destined to be with.  

He had come in after a strenuous battle with Hybern’s forces and had a gash down his leg so bad it exposed bones and harbored an infection.  He was unconscious and bloody with his own blood and the blood of those he had killed and despite his ragged state he was breathtaking.  You worked on his wounds and stayed by his side until he woke up the next morning.

You were reapplying bandages to his leg when you felt him shift and when you looked up he was already looking down at you with a crooked grin.

“I must be dead and in heaven because you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life.”  

It was corny and in other circumstances it would’ve made you scrunch your nose and roll your eyes, but his chances of surviving the infection were low and you were just happy he had survived the night.

You laughed and tied the bandage, patting it lightly.  “Thing?”

Cassian blushed and his eyes widened slightly.  “No.”  He cleared his throat and you couldn’t help but giggle at the way his eyes shifted around the room in embarrassment.

Before he could explain and possibly embarrass himself even more you stood up and smiled at him.  “I know what you mean.  I’m happy to see you too.”  

He visibly relaxed, his shoulders sagging and he flopped back on the bed.

“How do you feel?”  You asked without looking at him, focusing on putting your supplies into your pack.

“Good,” he paused and nodded his head.  “Fine.”

Had you looked at him during this brief conversation you would have noticed Cassian’s hazel eyes glued to you, taking in you in like water when he hadn’t drank in a long time.  You were stunning and graceful and it was true what he had said, he had never seen something or somebody so beautiful.  He felt stupid for saying thing instead of female or person or literally anything else, but if he didn’t know any better he would have assumed you were a goddess taking him away and if it were true he wouldn’t have objected.  He would follow you anywhere.

Cassian decided then that you were the one he was destined to be with.

Fortunately for you both, you were Cassian’s primary healer.  He saw you every morning, afternoon, and night when you came to redress his wounds and check his temperature.  Every time you were in his presence he felt like he couldn’t breathe and there were times you had to tell him to breathe normally so you could listen to his heart and lungs.  It was hard to contain his excitement when he saw the sun rise and set itself in the sky because he knew you were coming.  He would try, and fail, to make himself look presentable for you so you would look at him longer than 15 seconds and say something other than “how are you feeling” and “are you in pain.”

It was difficult for you to care for Cassian and not gawk at him every time you came to visit.  He was gorgeous and charming and surprisingly funny.  He asked you about your day and your patients and every few days he would ask if he was your favorite patient.  This always made you laugh and you would just shake your head and tell him you had no favorites.  This, of course, was not true because Cassian was your favorite patient.  He was quiet during your exams and didn’t protest when you checked his wounds or make vulgar comments regarding your body like the other soldiers at the camp.  He was respectful and kind and it was the highlight of your day to see him.

You were still with his legion when the war came to an end and the relationship between the two of you had not advanced in the slightest.  He was discharged from your care after a week and you saw him rarely in between battles and his duties and while you prayed for his safety during the war, you couldn’t help but hope that he would end up back in your section of the camp.

When the news came out, you sighed a breath of relief; you would finally be able to go back home.  You were originally from the Dawn Court and was a prominent healer in your district and you did not hesitate to answer the call to service the army’s wounded.

Cassian found you later that night.  You didn’t hear him come in and he swayed in the entrance of the medic tent for a brief second, watching as you meticulously put your supplies away, humming quietly to yourself.

Cassian felt a foreign sense of peace when you were around.  He had fought his entire life to get the bare minimum from clothes to food to shelter; he had never known comfortability even when he did have a roof over his head and a full stomach.  But you, this female that had blown in with the winds of fate, gave him that peace.  Your aura was pure tranquility and he wanted to bask himself in it.  

“Hey.”

The voice made you jump and let out a yelp as you turned around, your hand on your heart.  “Oh gods Cassian!  You scared me.”  You let out a small laugh as you observed the warrior in front of you.  He had no open wounds save for a few cuts and his face and body was caked in mud.  His seven siphons glowed in the dim tent and you watched the light move as he shifted his feet.

“Sorry,” he gave you a sheepish smile and you let out a quiet sigh at the sight.

“It’s fine,” you waved your hand and held your hands together.  “Do you need something?”

Cassian’s heart was beating so loud and hard he was worried it would fail him entirely.  He shook his head.  “No, I just wanted to come see you.”

Your mouth opened in an ‘O’ shape and your cheeks flushed with heat.  You tucked a piece of hair behind your pointed ear and looked at the hem of your dress.  “For any particular reason?”  Your voice was soft and hopeful.

“Yes.”  Cassian cleared his throat and suddenly his next words were lost to him and he just stared at you.

You looked back with an expectant and confused look.

“I’m sorry,” he laughed nervously, shaking his head, the mud making his hair stick to his face.  “I’m nervous.”

There was an awkward silence and you cocked your head to the side, your brows coming together and you jutted your bottom lip out slightly.  This look Cassian would memorize and come to know as your “I’m trying to figure it out” face.

“Why?”

“I want to keep seeing you.”  The confession was rushed and his face was a mix of red and brown.  “I know we don’t know each other and that’s my fault.  You made me so gods damned nervous.”  He laughed again and his eyes softened.  “I want to see you again.  I want to know you.”

Your face lit up and you smiled widely.  “I would like that.”

Cassian nodded and gave you a look that you would memorize as his “I’m in love” face and gave you his signature crooked grin.  “Good.  I will write to you.  I promise.”

And he did.  You had no more to do once the remaining wounded soldiers became well enough to travel home and you went home too.  Cassian wrote to you almost daily and you would laugh and shake your head in disbelief when they would come.  His handwriting was atrocious and it took you some time to figure out what he had written but it wasn’t long after that you were able to read his letters so fast that you missed the way you felt when you started.

He came to see you a few months later and it wasn’t as awkward as you both thought it would be.  You were different in many ways; he was nearly mannerless and brash and you were timid and observant.  But you were also the same in many ways; you both liked to travel and explore and you especially liked to love one another.

You two traveled to see each other and wrote letters until your hands ached before he asked you to move with him.  He had gotten a permanent position at the Night Court under Rhysand and bought a small cottage near the sea, something you had said you wanted to do at some point in your life.

You moved with him and you both spent the next 500 years in bliss.  Your love transcended unknown boundaries and it was inconceivable the way your bodies survived the amount of affection that coursed through your veins.  It was sickening to many just how in tune you were with each other and the looks shared from across the room conveyed things that were unspeakable.  It was common knowledge that you two had to be mates.  This kind of love couldn’t possibly exist between two regular people in love.  This kind of love existed solely for mates.  And you two believed it.  The bond never came to fruition during the centuries but it didn’t need to and you didn’t need a magical bond to keep you two together.  You would love each other regardless and you did so with glee.

It was a sunny Spring day when Feyre’s sister came to Velaris.  It was an exciting day, their arrival, and you had helped Feyre the entire day to prepare the House of Wind and their rooms.  You were excited to meet them.  If Feyre was as incredible as she was, her sisters had to be even better.  

They arrived later in the evening with Rhysand and Azriel.  You were waiting for them with Cassian in the living room, your hands intertwined as you discussed the upcoming week.  He would be leaving for an emissary mission and you were going to see your family in the meantime.  You hated not being with him and so did he so you had planned to stay in the cottage once you had come back to make up for the time apart.

Feyre met the four at the door and you and Cassian padded in, giving the sisters time to rejoice in their reunion.  Hugs and kisses were shared and then Feyre stepped back, her hand outstretched to you and Cassian.  Cassian stiffened at your side and you didn’t realize he had stopped walking until you were two paces ahead of him.  You turned to look at him, but his eyes were looking straight ahead, unwavering.  

You looked at the direction he was facing and found Nesta, eyes wide with shock and surprise.  You turned back to Cassian and his face was not one of shock, but of fear and before you could ask what was happening the scent hit you so hard you stumbled backwards.  

You knew what a mating bond smelled like being around Feyre and Rhysand so there was no doubt in your mind that this was that scent.  It was strong and felt like a physical wave crashing against the walls in the room and rocking you back and forth.

“Cass?”  Your voice was barely a whisper.  Cassian looked down at your still intertwined hands and then at your face, his face shifting from fear to anguish and you let out a breath.  “Cass.”  Your heart was breaking.

There was movement and then a sound like a footstep and you broke eye contact with Cassian to see Nesta had made a step towards you two and before she could take another Cassian had pushed you behind him and squared his shoulders, spreading his feet slightly into a fighting stance.

“No.”  Cassian’s voice was rough and low and while it was a command, it was also a plea.  No, don’t come any closer, and no this can’t be.

You were thinking the same thing: this can’t be.

Cassian swiftly turned around and ushered you out and you glanced back at Nesta and her face had contorted to rage but you didn’t have time to see what would happen next before Cassian had pushed you out the side door and took you in his arms, shooting you both into the sky and towards the cottage.

You didn’t cry as you flew to the house you had shared with him for 500 years, or when you stepped inside, or when you entered your bedroom, your belongings mixed together throughout the room.  You were confused.  So confused it felt chronic, like nothing was making sense even though it was painfully obvious.

Your name echoed throughout the house as Cassian tried to talk to you.  He begged you to look at him but you just shook your head and waved at him, moving towards your shared bathroom.  It wasn’t until you had locked the door that you let out a sob and then another and another until your cries were so loud your ears were ringing.

This was a mistake.  You had been with him for centuries.  He was yours and you were his and that was final.  Not even the Mother could change that, but She was and you were shaking so bad you fell to your knees and clutched your chest.  You couldn’t breathe and your heart was shattering in a way that you had feared long ago would happen but soon became confident it would never; he would never leave you and he would never not love you.  This, you were so sure of and here you were, screaming into your bathroom mat.  

The picture perfect life you had been painting for all these years was being smeared and destroyed.  The heaven that you had been living in was slowly turning into hell.

Cassian banged on the door behind you, begging to be let in.  

“I’m sorry.”  He kept saying and he was.  This was not what he had expected or ever hoped to happen.  That female was not his mate.  You were his mate; you were his other half, his twin flame, the love of his life.  “This doesn’t change anything.  I promise.  Please let me in.”  He was crying now, his sobs matching the volume and intensity of yours.  

Your world was falling apart and so was his.  He didn’t want to be told he was meant to be with someone else.  That notion didn’t make sense to him.  How could it not be you?  The female he fell in love with the moment he saw her bent over his leg, your tongue poking out slightly as you concentrated; the female who would cover him in kisses during his moments of doubt and insecurity; the female whom he loved more than life itself.

Cassian shimmied the lock until it slipped from its hold and he opened the door slowly until it hit something and when he peeked his head in, he saw that the door had hit your foot.  You were curled up on the bathroom mat.  It was an ugly yellow color and did not match the decor but you looked so happy when you came home with it tucked under your arm he couldn’t not let you have this one victory.  The sight of it made his stomach lurch and he knelt down beside you, lifting your head and cradling it in his hands.

You always thought his hands would hold yours until the end of time.  They were always so big and warm and inviting, grasping for you in the night and closing the distance between you two.  But now they felt so cold and you shrank from his touch.  He was no longer yours.  He was just a pawn in the Mother’s game.  You were just something momentary, something to bide his time until she came along.  You were so angry.

“Nothing is changing,” Cassian’s body shook with his sobs.  “I promise.”  Him and his promises.  “I love you.  You’re the love of my life.”  

You savored those words like it was elixir.  You loved the way he said it, with such conviction it could make the mountains shake and the world spin in the opposite direction.  And he said it now, through a voice so broken it made you look at him, that you once again believed him.  The Mother be damned; she could not and would not do this to you.  You were his and he was yours.

Cassian held you so tightly that night that you had to ask him to loosen his grip and even then he barely did.  He was so scared of what this meant.  He had only seen bonds that were accepted, but what happened to those who rejected it?  He didn’t care what happened to him and how he felt, really.  He cared about you and what this would mean for the relationship.  He did not want to leave you and he wouldn’t.  He would go down fighting, teeth bare and knives out, to keep you and the life you had created.  

Cassian didn’t leave for the emissary mission and you didn’t go to visit your family.  Instead you stayed home and laid in each other’s arms, memorizing once again what it felt like to be held and loved so fiercely.  

Cassian abandoned the Court entirely in avoidance of her.  He couldn’t even bear to think of her name.  He hated her and wished she would go away by any means necessary.  It was a morbid thought but Cassian didn’t care.  She was not worth the space she was taking up in your mind and he knew how obsessed you had become with what happened.  He could see it in the way you methodically did the chores around the house that you were ruminating over the memory and he could almost see the scene in your eyes: the look between her and him, the scent, the realization, and then the moment euphoria turned into misery.

Azriel came to the house first, giving you a sympathetic smile and a kiss on the cheek before stalking to Cassian’s office.  They argued about his abrupt leave of Court and while Azriel understood it completely, he was drowning trying to balance his work and Cassian’s.  But Cassian didn’t care and told him to leave.

Rhysand came next and the High Lord demanded his return, promising that Nesta would be nowhere near him and he would never have to interact with her.  But Cassian didn’t care; he didn’t want to take that chance and he felt like being in the same continent as her was betraying you.  They argued, more aggressively than he had with Azriel, until Cassian had Rhysand pinned to the wall.

You rushed in at the commotion and yelled out.  “Cassian!  Please.”  Your voice was quiet despite the scolding and he gave you an exasperated look and released Rhysand.

“He’ll be there tomorrow morning, Rhysand.”  You bowed your head in apology and gave him a smile.  “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

Rhysand didn’t need the apology and he wouldn’t accept it.  He understood it entirely and wasn’t even angry at Cassian, not entirely at least.  This had been Feyre years ago and it took Rhysand everything in him to leave her be and even then he struggled.  

“What the fuck?”  Cassian snarled, slamming the door behind Rhysand.

You jumped at his tone and held your hands together.  “We have to get back to normal at some point.”  

Your eyes were glistening with tears and Cassian’s anger immediately faded away and his shoulders drooped.  “I do not want to do this.  I do not want to leave you.”

You chuckled.  “You’re going to work, Cassian.  You’ll be back.”

“And if I have to go on a mission?”

“You’ll still come back.  Everything will be as it was before.  I promise.”  

A year turned into two and into three and your relationship didn’t deteriorate, but it also didn’t progress.  It was like you were waiting for something bad to happen, for Nesta to come and demand he come to her, for Cassian to realize he wanted the bond more than you.  It was agonizing to live in so much fear.  You were scared all the time; you were scared that when you woke up Cassian would be gone or he wouldn’t come home.  

But he was always there when you woke up and he always came home.

Cassian made sure to be present in every moment with you.  He had moved on from the encounter and was pleased to not feel the bond as strongly as he did that night.  He felt it every now and then, a flicker of feeling or a hazy image sent by her but he never cared to explore it.  Instead he shoved it away, pushing the bond to the deep pits of his stomach and resumed his life with you.  He knew how much you were hurting and he did his best to constantly reassure you of his dedication to you and your future.  

The rain was coming down heavily as you prepared dinner.  Cassian hadn’t come home yet and you were growing worried.  You twisted your hands as you peered out the window, counting the seconds in between the lighting and thunder.  

There was a thud outside and then the sound of keys jingling together and Cassian bursted through the door, soaked from head to toe from the rain.

Relief flooded through your body and you made your way to him, a smile so wide and bright it would’ve put the sun to shame.  The expression on Cassian’s face made you falter and then you smelled it: Nesta.

“No,” you gasped out, taking a step back.

“Nothing happened.”  Cassian was rushing towards you but you kept backing away, bumping into the kitchen counter until you were cornered.  “She came into the office while I was waiting for Rhysand.  But I left immediately after.  I pro-”

“You reek of her,” you sneered.

Cassian stopped a mere feet away from you, his hands still outstretched towards you.  “She came to me and I couldn’t get her off me.”

“You couldn’t or you didn’t want to?”  This couldn’t be happening.

“Please, listen to me.  I was waiting and she came in and ran to me.  Please believe me.  I got her off of me and-”

“She touched you?”  This was happening.

“For the love of the gods you have to believe me.”  Cassian was shaking.  Either from sobs or the cold from the rain you weren’t sure, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care.

“Get away from me,” you snarled, sliding past him.  Cassian grabbed your wrist and you jerked away from his touch, yanking your wrist free.  “Don’t.”

He let you go.  The devastation in your voice was clear and there was nothing he could say or do to stop you from thinking and believing whatever you told yourself.  He let you go to your bedroom; he let you slam and lock the door; and he let you cry yourself to sleep.  And it wasn’t until he heard nothing through the gaps of the door that he let himself in, sneaking into bed and pulling you into his chest.

You woke up the next morning with sore eyes and a pounding headache.  The events of the night before came rushing to you so fast you recoiled into something hard.  Turning your head, you saw that it was Cassian.  He was fast asleep, his mouth slightly open and his arms were tight around your waist.  You didn’t remember letting him in but regardless of how he got here you were glad for it.  You missed the warmth in your bed but was too upset, and maybe too proud, to allow him in. 

You were so upset that Nesta had gotten to Cassian but it made you realize that you were living on borrowed time.  You knew that at some point this facade that you were upholding would fall apart and he would be taken away to his mate.  His mate.  The words branded themselves into your mind and soul and you hated it.  For so long you wanted to be his mate, to be bound to him for all eternity, but it never came and you never understood why until now.  He wasn’t truly yours and it made you feel like you were being torn from the inside, your organs and muscles shredding under the sharp edges that was the empty space growing in your chest.

“It’s not going to work, Cassian, and you know that.”  Your relationship had gotten worse since that night.  You were paranoid every time he left the house and he was becoming bitter.  Not at you, no never you, but at the situation.  His anger was occupying his time more and more these days and he was losing himself in it, leaving you stranded.

“Don’t say that.”  He shook his head, his hair framing his face as he looked at you.  

You gave him a smile so slight but etched with so much pain and agony.  “It’s true.”  You let out a breath, trying to contain yourself.  “We cannot outrun what fate has written for us.”

“Fuck fate.”  Cassian jumped up and balled his hands into fists.  “We are meant to be.  We promised to be together.”

“You are meant to be with your mate if you have one, and you do.”  Your voice was soft, but trembled as you spoke.

“Mates don’t mean anything.  Rhysand’s parents were mates and they were horrible for each other.  I don’t need to be with my mate.  I need to be with you.”

You let out a breath and tilted your head up to the ceiling.  Tears were streaming down your face and you were trying so hard to keep your composure.  Every bone in your body was screaming at you in protest, but you knew this was the right thing to do.  You two were perfect for each other but not anymore.  Now you two barely spoke as if doing so would shatter the illusion you had been creating for the past three years.  Him angry and you sad, it just wasn’t going to work anymore.  

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered.  “I am so, so sad.  And scared.  I just can’t do it, Cass.  I love you, I do.  But not like this.  We cannot expect love to change our circumstances.  It just doesn’t work like that.”

“It does and it will.  I promise.”

“So many promises,” you let out a laugh and looked at him.  Your eyes had lost their light so long ago and Cassian had tried everything to ignite them but to no avail.  You were completely gone.  “I thought this would work.”  You clicked your tongue and looked around your home.  So many memories and dreams coated the walls, all engulfed in flames that were nipping at your skin threatening to take you down. 

You cleared your throat.  “It’s better this way.  The longer you deny the bond the worse you’ll get.  I read about it.”  You nodded like it meant nothing, like you were trying to convince him, but really you were trying to convince yourself.  This had to be better because what was happening now was not good for either of you.

“Please don’t do this.”  Cassian’s eyes were red and his face was wet with tears.  He bit his lip to contain his sobs but they kept coming out.  He didn’t care about his composure.

“I have to.”  You took a step back and kept his gaze.  If you looked away you would lose it.  You would stay.  You would be miserable.  You couldn’t do that anymore.

“You’re the love of my life.”  The words came out more like a beg than a declaration.

Those six words have meant everything to you for the past 500 years.  They made you see stars and feel safe.  They put you in a drunken haze that smelled and tasted like Cassian and at this point they had been your religion.  You loved Cassian more than anything and you knew you would never love anyone else like you did him.  You would never bask in the presence of another like you did with him, you would never cling to another like you did with him, and you would never make another your world like you had him.  

What you had was legendary even if it was momentary. So much so that the story of your love would be told for generations to come, one of both happiness and tragedy.

You would never forget him and you never wanted to; you wanted to remember every scar and muscle that adorned his body, his smile and laugh, the way he walked towards you, and the way he felt beneath your fingertips.  But all you had of him now was memories, fleeting images and sensations that left you breathless and reeling, yearning for more.  

The next six words that fell from your lips, six words so contrary to the ones he and you had shared for so long, would haunt you until the day you died.

“And you’re the loss of mine.”

[illyrian-dreamer]

And Then There Were None – Part 1

Azriel/fem!reader

Synopsis: In the lead up to the war, Hybern releases a catastrophic spell that wipes out all humans, sparing just one.

Abandoned in the desolate human lands, you scavenge to survive long enough to find your family.

Reluctantly, you are found by the Shadowsinger as fate intervenes to guide you under his watchful eye.

Part 2>>>

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Death, blood, suggestions of miscarriage

Twigs snapped beneath your boots, your steps heavy with exhaustion as you stumbled through yet another town, as barren and deserted as the last one. 

Exhaustion and dehydration weighed heavy, wisps of dust caking your skirts, your boots the only thing to disturb the rubble in days. 

There was no concern for a carriage that might pull up behind, or a bossy merchant to yell at you to clear the path. While the ghosts of the life that once flourished echoed in closed shops and abandoned stalls, you stopped looking over your back days ago.

There were no plumes of smoke from chimneys, no distant chatter or laughter or cries. Safe from the occasional grunts or mews of abandoned cattle - there was not a single sign of life, and no human in sight for the past ten days.

A jarring cramp ripped from your abdomen, pulling you from delirium with urgency.

Water, food, bathe and sleep. That was why you were here.

You tried not to think about how quickly resources were depleting, even though you were sure you were the only one using them. Without people to treat water, the stagnant liquid became increasingly dangerous. And you couldn’t farm a vegetable to save your life, and had spent too long journeying to have tended to any crops.

You’d have to go further into the woods soon, find a fresh stream, perhaps hunt too. But you'd need strength for that, and you had just about run out.

At least it was spring, and at least the trees bloomed with fruit as you travelled from town to town, feet blistered and chapped. You cursed you parents for not teaching you formidable survival skills - fighting, hunting, even the ability to ride a gods damned horse would have been an incomparable luxury these past hellish days. 

A clang of guilt, and frustration quickly churned to longing. Gods, you hoped they were alive. You would do anything to have them here, to journey this devastating isolation together, the little ones too. You prayed to the Mother for the umpteenth time that day that they were safe and well. 

It was not a concern when you woke to an empty house almost a fortnight earlier. Your father was likely at the market, your mother hard at work at the tailor in town. Your siblings were hard to catch at this time of year, with school out of term and the warm spring air, they would spend each waking moment by the river if your parents let them. 

It wasn't until you spotted your fathers wheelbarrow through the speckled glass of your kitchen window, held by rotting wood. Empty and unmoved, his tools lay flat on the ground, untouched since the day before. You could have sworn he told you he’d be at the market by dawn. 

Scanning the room, your eyes flicked to the doorway where your mothers workbag lay untouched. Needles sat poked in balls of yarn as stray thread sprawled over leather - but an eery stillness sang to you at your parent’s tools. 

Names and calls went unanswered, and after a quick search of the home you ran outside, urgent to ask your neighbours where they had gone, your heart fastening with every step.

Too frantic to observe the lack of movement and noise from your own street, you rapped on the door, waiting only a few seconds to push the rattling screen and forcing your way in.

Names went unanswered again, and it was instinct that steered you straight for the nursery. You halted at the sight of new born's empty crib, blankets rippled as if the babe was taken straight from it’s sleep.

Your calls turned frantic as you scoured each room, an upsetting, looming sensation creeping over your skin.

Bursting from the home, you shielded your eyes from the bright sun as you scanned the street with urgency. Your only greeting was a quiet breeze and snort of a horse left abandoned by a cart - as if it had stopped it's journey halfway through.

In a panicked haze, you searched the next home, and the next, and the next. The dizziness found you then. 

Clearly there was an emergency of some kind. But you had been abandoned, left to sleep until midday amongst the quiet. The thought pained you.

More calls to anyone who might have stayed behind, yet still no answer. Your heart was a thunder in your ears. 

Had the war finally reached you? Had your family fled in the dead of the night? You shook the thought from your head – they would have woken you, would have needed your help to escape with the youngens.

And then you were running – yelling, sprinting through the dusty streets, voice breaking as you dashed from home to home, shop to shop, calling, crying, pleading.

You were utterly alone. You had been left there, alone. 

In a swarm of panic, you pressed a palm at your heart, willing yourself to calm. It was a dream, surely. You were not abandoned, only stuck in a nightmare, the kind that often found you as murmurs of Hybern’s army reaching human lands became louder. 

In that dizzying thought, you willed yourself awake, forcing your eyes open to the walls of your dark and cramped room, to the noises as your siblings shouting and playing from downstairs, to the whistle of the kettle and the creak of the wood as your father came to wake you.

But the light was blinding, the sun as true as the your abandonment.

Beads of sweat that ran down your neck, a gnawing anxiousness building in your stomach as it heaved and cramped, nausea and panic churning to one. 

Something truly terrible had happened.

And in that moment of utter disbelief, a stabbing pain ripped from your stomach, so great it forced a whimper from your throat. 

As silent trickles of blood ran from your thighs to your knees, tracing your calves beneath the fabric of your skirt, you found a numbing sort of courage. Pushing your legs forward, you mindlessly heeded the road out of your home town, and on to the next. 

People. You needed to find people.

————

Ten days, and still not a single sole in sight. Each home, each tavern, each market and farm left eerily untouched. 

The silence was enough to drive you mad, if not besides the aide you so desperately sought. This was not your cycle - although the pains were familiar. You had known what you were, what this was.

Almost a fortnight, yet the blood still came. Slower now, spotting instead of trickles. You had stolen clothing from abandoned shops, food and water too. But you were distraught, moments away from folding into utter madness. And you were weak – very, very weak.

Water, food, a bath and rest. A list you repeated to yourself, your body begging to prioritise sleep with every step as you approached a farm at the town’s edge.

With a weak hand, you pushed past the gate to the yard, large rusty barrels sat open where a cow and her calf now drank. The water was murky with a distinct smell, but it would have to do. Tomorrow, you’d find fresh water tomorrow.

The trembling hand that dipped to the cool water hardly looked like your own. Dirt lay thick under your nails, your skin littered with cuts from the countless times you had shattered windows of stores and traders homes, scouring the stock for preserved goods and weapons. 

Bringing the cool liquid to your lips, you ignored the taste of iron as you willed it to soothe your throat - hoarse from the endless calls that went unanswered.

Ears pricking at sudden growl behind you, you jerked at the site of a pack of dogs who approached on stealthy paws. Their eyes were hungry - flicking between you and the calf. Once loyal farming dogs you were sure, now abandoned by owners and left to fend for themselves. They had formed packs - clever things. While you were sure they couldn't kill you, you didn't have the strength to fight an infection if they got close enough to sink their teeth. 

From your side, you unsheathed the hunting knife you had looted from a previous town. Swinging it with unpracticed skill, you shouted at the pack, your heart thundering as you waited for them to recline on hindered paws and leap. 

They pack seemed to weigh you up, deciding the calf was an easier target. You fled inside the house before you could see it meet it’s end. 

The home was neat, and you almost cried at the sight of a loaf of bread sitting atop the kitchen counters. Mould had attacked it’s edges, but you tore at it, fisting mouthfuls of the centre, dry crumbs coating your throat it was an effort not to choke.

Your stomach lurched, unhappy with the quality of the food and water, but you didn't care. You were on step closer to rest.

Another jarring cramp from your stomach, and you faltered, gripping at the wooden table as you trembled to keep yourself upright. This ailment, how much longer would you last? Sleep begged at you, your body moments from giving out. You’d have to forgo the bath, and prayed to the mother you’d find the strength for it in the morning.

Forcing yourself to the bedroom, swaying with each stumbled step, consciousness was already slipping as you collapsed on the bed, clothes and boots in tact. 

————

It was a feverish sleep, your body doused in sweat as you stirred often, jolting awake in panics, phantom calls of your family mixed with the flap of wings, and the crunch of stone and rock under heavy boots.

Then a voice, voices – ones you were sure they were part of your slumber. 

But as those footsteps got closer, you woke in a startle, your heart fastened as you blinked furiously. 

Voices. Humans. People. Alive, well enough to talk. 

You leapt from the bed, ignoring the spin of your head as you clambered to the window, peering behind sheer drapes to the street in front.

Your stomach sank. Lurched. Then sank again. 

A large, demonic figure stalked for the home. Wings arched behind it’s head, it’s figure blackened by the leathers it bore, sword and knives strapped around. 

And, wisps of some kind. Deadly, reaping magic.

Fae.

Fae had come. 

Knees buckling, you stumbled back a few steps. 

The world around you reeled as adrenaline coursed through. You would have just moments to prepare if you wanted a chance to survive. 

Knife. Your hunting knife. Still strewn at your hip.

Grasping it’s hilt tightly with a trembling hand, you scanned the room for the best place to hide. 

The cupboard was too obvious, and there was room under the bed - but there’d be not enough to swing your knife, only enough for them to drag you by the ankle… 

The gentle click of the front door opening, and it took all you had not to whimper in panic.

Scrambling for the door as quietly as possible, you pressed your palm to your mouth, begging yourself not to cry as you pressed yourself behind the wood.

From what you could hear over the thunder of your heart, the steps of the fae were quiet despite it’s size. 

“Anything in there?” a deep voice boomed from the street. You jolted at the volume. More than one, then.

There was no reply from the creature in the home, only the creak of the wood as it made it’s way through. 

“Really, Azriel? Are we to check every home?” Female this time, impatience and ignorance laced in the somehow ancient voice.

No response again, instead a footstep, right by the door.

Something tickled your ankles then, and it was beyond you to stifle your compulsive scream. 

Black furling wisps coated your boots.

And then the door opened.

The creature made it one step inside before you had aimed your knife for it’s heart. 

A prepared, cool hand caught your wrist inches from it’s chest. Your bones crushing in it’s grasp, and you let out a yelp of pain. 

It’s face - his face - was one of shock. “S-sorry,” he stuttered, dropping his grip all together. 

You blinked back in shock, ignoring at the throb of your wrist as you snatched it back. 

For a dumb moment, you stared at each other with equally wide eyes. The male didn't seem to know what to do. 

“You’re human? How are you here, where-?"

The males sentence was clipped short as you drove the knife towards his chest again. 

Quick as an asp, he caught you by the forearm this time, more gently too. 

Hazel eyes scanned you, his features schooling as he called over his shoulder. “I’ve found someone.”

You were sure you looked mad, grunting with the effort to pull your arm from him, breaths ragged, eyes and hair wild. The male studied you as he might a rabid animal. 

Behind him appeared an even taller male, his form more terrifying than the one that gripped you. 

“Mother above,” the new one whispered, scanning you in the way the first one had. 

“L-let go of me,” you rasped, pulling your arm back, tears stinging at the pain of you surely broken wrist began to swell. 

It was a odd detail to note, the scars and ripples of the fae’s hand as he gently unfurled your fingers, prying the hunting knife from you before releasing his grip. 

“Let me see,” the female’s voice piped from behind, the males struggling to fold their wings further, cramming into the room to let her through. 

You faltered back on instinct, legs hitting the edge of the bed. 

As the female broke through the males, harsh silver eyes scanned you up and down. She was half their height, a little shorter than you actually, but the depth of her gaze kept your hands by your side.

“Seems the Mother has spared one after all,” she muttered, nose crumpling at your scent. 

Your answered with a scowl. 

“What is your name?” it demanded. 

“Amren,” the taller male warned, his eyes flicking back to you with softness. 

You refused to answer. Couldn’t if you wanted to. 

Amren sighed, casting her head sideways to the one with rippled hands. “She bleeds.”

“I know,” he answered, hazel eyes not breaking from you. You blushed, furious and humiliated. 

He stepped around her then, the movement graceful and soft despite his size. 

“You need aide.”

You gulped, unable to process his words. “L-leave me be,” you demanded, voice hoarse as you tried to create more distance between you and it. 

He crouched in front of you then, leathers stretching against ripples of muscle. You noticed them then, jewels, saphires, humming from his body as if they were alive.

He followed your eyes curiously, before answering you with a soft smile. 

“These are siphons,” he said plainly, giving one a friendly tap. 

You snapped your eyes back to him, disgust forming your features. “You are here on behalf of Hybern?”

The female snorted from behind, earning a shove from the larger male beside her, his siphons glowing red.

The one in front of you studied you. “No, absolutely not.” 

You scowled, not inclined to believe them. 

“We come one behalf of our High Lord Rhysand, and High Lady Feyre. Rulers of the Night Court. Do you know of them?”

Feyre - the human women who had freed the fae from the grasp of their enemy. You knew the story, the heroic tale of a human women who gave her life for the male she loved. Had heard of her triumphs Under the Mountain, that she had been made into fae herself in exchange for her sacrifice. 

“The-the curse breaker?”

A small smile cocked on both of the males faces. 

“That’s right,” the one crouched in front answered. “She sent us to retrieve you.”

A panic surged within you. “Me?” you spat. Oh the ignorance of the fae, as if you were some pawn to pluck and place elsewhere. 

Azriel frowned, eyes dancing as he realised the mistake in his words. “To help you, of course. There has been-"

"No-n-no. My family, they will seek for me-"

Azriel's brow pulled with softness, his tone falling flat. "We will search for them. Meanwhile, you must see a-"

“Where are the others?” Your voice was louder now, eyes dancing in panic, chest rising with fastening breaths. Had they taken them too? “The people, they've left, I don't know-"

“We are searching for others. You are… the first we have found.”

Your mind reeled. How could that be? You had searched by foot - but with those wings, and the strength and power of fae…

“WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO THE OTHER HUMANS?” the volume of your voice shocked even yourself, that strength, that demand from deep within your chest. 

Azriel gave you a pained look, before standing to turn to his counterparts. “Amren, can you heal-?”

“I’m spent,” she cut off the male with a flick of her fingers. “Those canines out back were hardly enough to keep me going until sundown, so forget about healing. Unless you suggest I drink her blood, though I doubt she’d survive.”

Mother above.

You were too hazed to see the glare both of the males cut her.

“Then she will need to see a healer before we can continue.”

“She might refuse,” the larger one countered. 

“If she’s smart, she won’t. She won't survive out here on her own,” Amren muttered, cleaning her nails as she leaned one on leg, checking her cat-like claws for flecks of blood. 

They continued their mutter without once turning to you.

“There is no option here. I’ll take her to Velaris, and return once she’s safe.”

A shaking, blubbering anger grew within you, the creatures in front of you as ignorant and obnoxious as you had always been told fae are – to discuss your own fate as if you weren't in the room.

A killer instinct flared in you then, and you remembered the second knife you bore, hidden within your corsette. A pocket knife, a tool from your father to help pit and peel the fruit from his farm. 

The oak handle was cool in your left hand, the right throbbing and limp. With the last remains of energy,  you pushed up from the bed, swinging with all your strength - aiming for the blue-siphoned back. 

In a graceful turn, the male caught your arm for the third time. You had to blink at the speed with which he stopped you. 

Bracing for cruel, unforgiving anger, you were instead met with sympathetic eyes. 

Loathing coiled within you. 

“Release me,” you spat.

“I’m sorry to do this,” was all he said, and then pads of those rippled fingers were grasping your jaw, pressing to the pressure points of your neck with precision. 

Grunting to fight his grasp, you didn’t struggle long before a ringing in your ear grew to defeating silence and the world tipped to black. 

Part 2 >>> AN: HELLLOOO! And welcome to ATTWN - massive shout out to @kindasleepywriter for finding the perfect name for this series! I so so hoped you liked part 1. I edited it like a million times, still not 100% happy with it, but I think I just needed to get it out. Fair warning - this fic won't be light hearted, our reader is going to go through some really heavy stuff. I'll of course put my warnings ahead of each part, but please know I plan to explore some darker themes surrounding mental health etc. If you'd like to join the tag list for this fic, let me know in the comments! Always love hearing your feedback, and thank you so much for reading! <3 Nic

[bluetimeombre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either part 2

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[thank you for the love on part one, I’m so happy Azriel is getting the love he deserves!!!! This is another long one, another 6k. But I’ve learnt a new love for writing about him and i have so many ideas. This is a continuation and final part, part one here. Enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

The third time Azriel almost lost you, he was pretty sure he lost a part of himself.

They'd all gone into battle, knowing that Hybern had the numbers to match and the advantage. But they'd all gone to fight in spite of that.

It had took some time for you to get the boys to agree to let you fight- you'd trained and grew up with all three of them but this was fighting on another scale. Although, if they were going, there really wasn't much they could say to get you to stay.

You were clad in Illyrian leathers just like them, armed with weapons and power.

The first battle was over quicker than you'd anticipated. Hybern soldiers surrendered, Tarquin drowned them on land. You'd suffered little, only falling on bed exhausted by the end of the day. Sadly, you were sharing a tent with Cassian and Azriel. It was like you were young again, all sleeping in the same room. It was a habit you'd done when you were young- all looking out and protecting each other.

The only difference was that Cassian snored as he got older.

But the next battle was worse.

It was bigger than last. Hybern's forces had doubled, seemingly at of nowhere, cutting their forces apart.

It was chaos, everywhere. Every corner there was fighting and bleeding and dying. There was pain all around you. Pain you felt like it was your own.

You used all your power, as much as you could to kill and protect. From the corner of your eyes you could see Azriel fight. Your Azriel, weaving in and out of people. Your mate. He was alive. And that was all you cared about.

But you didn't realise how much you'd been pushing herself and draining your power. Every time you stopped, you swayed on your feet, stumbling.

One of Hyberns men came for you as you were crouched and you barley blocked with your sword, rolling onto your back and slashing his arm off.

Not before he landed a sword in your thigh.

It had been deep burning and you yelled, yanking it out. Even with the wound, you kept fighting and fighting your way through until you saw a blaze of red and a familiar cry.

Cassian.

He'd been run through.

It was easy to push past exhaustion and winnow to his side, killing the man who'd been near him and any others that had been close enough. You fall to your knees next to him. 'Cassian, you prick.'

'You kiss your mate with that mouth,' he gasped. He was the only one who knew about Az and the bond. The only one you'd allow to make jokes.

You look down to his wound and gaged. Mother above, his guts were hanging out. 'No, no, no, come on, big guy, you have to stand.'

He groaned. 'Yea, don't think I can do that, sweetheart,' his eyes, lulled back.

You slap him in the face. Perhaps you wouldn't have felt guilt if it weren't for the way his eyes widened. 'You know I hate being called that.'

He laughed as his stomach and all its contents heaved out. Ignoring the pain in you, you hold his stomach, keeping him together. 'I promised Nesta i'd look after her,' he said. 'Please look after her.'

'Do it yourself,' you groaned.

Finally, Azriel came to your side and picked Cassian up like it was nothing, flying him to the tents. If only you still had your wings, you could have done it, saved him quicker.

Then, you were thrown back into the battle. Covered in his blood and yours, you fought through them all, slashing and killing like it was nothing. Like you had no reason to bat an eyelash at anything happening.

Eventually, it ended, but you couldn't even concentrate on who won or how much you'd lost. Your head ached, your leg was tied up in a bloody bandage ripped from your clothes. But none of that mattered.

Cassian was in bed, healing slowly. But he would live, everyone could tell. Especially with the way he picked fights. He argued with Rhys about throwing himself into danger, him and Nesta appeared to be having words with their eyes. Even Mor and Feyre argued. You were the only one silent with Azriel in the back. Too exhausted to even open your mouth.

That night, you tied up your wounds and fell asleep without changing.

It only got worse.

Elain- Feyre's sister and the most precious- was stolen from Hybern. You had only agreed to go and save her with a few selected others because your mate was in that few selective others.

It hadn't escaped your notice how he looked at her, was watchful over her like he once was with you. You saw the tick in his jaw at the news she was gone. You knew that this was the reason you hadn't told him. Knowing that he deserved someone like her, better than you. Kind and hopeful. You weren't. So the only thing you could do was watch your mate find love in someone else.

And you'd do it grudgingly but happy for him.

Azriel had took of with her. You and your high lady fought, fought through ash arrows and everything.

'You should get out of her, y/n,' said Feyre.

You groaned as an arrow skimmed your shoulder. Another had already got your hip. 'If you try to order me out of here, i'll be really pissed off at you.'

'I don't care if it gets you out!' she snapped, arguing like a real sister would.

'Yea, well- I was never one to listen to Rhys either.'

And Azriel was gone. Everything was fine.

You and Feyre ran, ran even as Tamlin defended you, ran until-

An arrow hit you in the back, straight to one of your old wing scars.

You tumbled, rolling on the ground as it broke and imbedded in your back. You screamed, in spite of yourself.

'You have to fly,' someone was telling you. Or saying it in general, frankly you had no idea what was going on. 'You have to take her.'

You rolled onto your stomach, groaning and trying to get yourself up. There was blood running down your arm, how did that get there?

'Y'n.'

You groaned, 'Azriel. I can't fly.'

'I know, I know- i've got you.' He picked you up, arm under your legs and around your shoulders.

'Elian, Azriel-'

'Feyre has her,' he told you. He sounded angry. Or afraid. Somehow his emotions were very easy to mix up.

'Feyre isn't strong enough.'

'She'll have to be.'

'You should take them, Elian-'

'I don't give a fuck about Elian right now, y'n.'

Just like that, he took off with you in his arms and your blood raining down on the camp of Hybern. You could barley hear anything over the wind... but you could feel it.

Something had tugged painfully at the bond, throwing you into a scream. Something had happened to Azriel. You twisted in his arms, finding gashing claw marks in his back from one of the hounds that had chased them down. His face was bleached white in pain, his hold on you tight.

Glancing around, you could just see Feyre in a blur of people.

'Azriel-' you gasped. He was in pain, so much pain.

He didn't say anything, just squeezed you tighter and looking ahead, barking orders as Feyre flew for the first time in need, in desperation. You remembered what that was like, trusting your life in them. But Azriel's wings, they were bleeding out. You remembered the pain. You'd go through it every day to spare him a minute of it.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You and Azriel landed back in the camp in a blur of pain.

Even with him leaving a trail of blood, he managed to set you down like you were porcelain. You didn't cry out. You didn't yell for help. You threw his arm over your shoulder and supported him.

Nesta and Rhys rushed to Feyre.

You hated your brother for a long moment.

Elain wondered over, chained but whole.

Azriel moved from you, checking on Elian. You only managed to watch them as she kissed his cheek.

The pain came to you then. Your head, shoulder, back. You turned from the crowd of family. Elain moved to hug her sister, Rhys stayed at Feyre's side.

Thesan, someone you barley knew as more than a healer, came to you first but you pushed him away, pushed him to Azriel. 'His wings. Heal him, or i'll rip you to pieces.'

He didn't have to be told twice.

You stumbled your way to camp, to your little tent. You didn't share it with Cassian anymore as he was still healing and Azriel would be a while- needing healing of your own.

You collapsed on the bed, promising to look after yourself- just after your nap.

You were so fast asleep you didn’t even hear Azriel come in and sigh at the sight of you…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel was fighting when it happened. Specifically, when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

No, he wasn't completely healed. But he had to fight. He wouldn't push himself, he knew that would be stupid. But he wouldn't watch as everyone fought. As you fought. He'd hardly seen you. He knew your back would be in pain. He knew you'd be in pain and you were still fighting, so far from him and out of reach.

He was thinking of you when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

His soul sang it, his heart rose with it.

His shadows whispered it.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

y/n.

And the first thing he felt over the bond wasn't happiness or love. It was pain. It was death.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

In spite of the pain in his wings, how he'd been told not to fly, he did. He jumped into the skies, soaring over armies and dead to find you. He followed that pain, he followed the bond until he found you.

You, lying in your own blood. Again.

He fell next to you, his power eradicating anywhere near you. They dissovled, the ground cracked under him and his syphons shone in raw power.

'y/n?' he held your body, shaking you. Blood, so much. A sword had torn through your gut. 'Don't do this to me.'

Mate. Mate. Mate.

You cough, a thin stream of blood rolling from your lips. 'Azriel?'

'You're mine,' it was the first thing he could bring himself to say. 'You're my mate. Y/n. You have to hold on, ok? I'm gonna-gonna get you to safety.'

Something like a laugh escaped you, your body wracking with it. 'Of course, finally snaps for you as i'm dying.'

Snaps for you. Mate. Mate.

She knows, his shadows sung. She's known.

Azriel called out to Rhys in every way he could. 'We're gonna be fine. We're gonna be mates, y/n. You have to live, you understand?'

'Not really.' your eyes flutter shut.

'No!' he yelled, shaking you again.

'What's happened?' Rhysand landed next to him, blanking when he saw you in Azriel's arms, bleeding to death. How many times did this have to happen? How many times would you throw yourself into danger?

'She's my mate,' Azriel repeated. He tested it out loud, speaking it to the mother. How cruel was she? to give him this then try to take her away. Well, the mother wouldn't get that chance. Azriel would fight her if she tried to lay a hand on your life.

'What?' said Rhys.

'My mate,' he all but growled as Rhys got closer.

He put a hand on the back of Azriels neck, a hand on your head. 'We have to save her, Az.' he knew all about mating of course, knew that Azriel wanted nobody around her. But this was too save her. 'She's my sister too, the last sister I have. I care about her to.'

Azriel wanted to throw a thousand insults his way but refrained. If not because he was high lord, but also because you were dying.

They got you to safety, Azriel carrying you through to a tent.

'Y/n?!' Cassian rushed over, seeing you in his brothers arms, bleeding out and unresponsive.

Azriel pushed past him, setting you down on the bed. 'Get everyone, every healer now.' He had no idea who he was trying to demand, but he couldn’t watch this, couldn’t see you in.

You were still in your bed. Behind him, Feyre rushed to her mate, wrapping her arms around his torso as your brother stared at you in muted horror.

Azriel was leaning over you, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘She’s my mate.'

'What?' Said Cassian, ‘She told you?'

Azriel felt the world stop around him. Not did you know about the bond and hadn’t told him, you’d told someone else? Cassian? His hand stilled in brushing your hair back, his shadows coaxing you instead.

Rhysand spoke what Azriel wanted to scream. 'You knew?'

'She-She told me,'

Azriel had always had an iron fist control on his emotions, as relied on to be spy master, he had to. But his patience was hanging on by a thread. You were still bleeding out and nobody had come and Cassian knew. Cassian knew about his mate before he did.

His shadows caressed you and, leaving you in the coolness of their touch, he leapt up, marching around the bed toward him.

Rhys was quicker, a hand on Azriels chest to stop him. 'Calm, brother.'

'Calm?' He seethed. 'When-how long have you known?' He shouted.

Cassian breathed out, pushing his hair back . His wings were tucked in behind him. 'She told me, before she went under the mountain.'

Even Rhysand let him go, blowing out air and throwing his arms over his head as Feyre gasped.

Azriel stumbled, a hand to his chest. His shadows were divided between him and caring for you. 'Fifty years,' he gasped.

You’d known for fifty years- possibly longer and hadn’t said a word.

He was panicking, his breath escaping him. His shadows settled uneasy around him. And the only person who was capable of calming him was laying unconscious.

Thesan burst in, knowing the injured already and working on you quickly.

Azriel almost launched at him, just for touching you. The reasonable part of him knew he needed to touch to heal, but the part that was your mate wanted him dead.

Cassian held him back, physically.

Azriel glowered at him. 'I wouldn’t touch me if i were you, brother,' he practically spat the words.

Rhysand left Feyre with a kiss on her cheek, coming to Azriel who was looking over you on the other side. 'Az, you need to rest-you’re hurt, too, remember?'

He shook his head, staring down at you. Mother above you were pale, so pale. 'I-I can’t feel anything Rhys, I can’t feel her through the bond.'

'My sister is a fighter, she’ll make it through.'

Azriel scoffed. His shadows were caressing up and down your arm. ‘Don’t pretend you’ve ever cared about her like a brother.'

Rhysand inhaled sharply. This was just fear, he told himself. 'Azriel.'

'No,' he said, his finger brushing back your hair. 'You only care about her when she’s dying and all y/n does is worship you- ever since you were children.'

Cassian tried to advance, 'Azriel, you wouldn’t be saying any of this if y/n wasn’t hurt.'

He laughed, bitterly. 'No, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have to. I’d bite my tongue. But your sister is dying and the last time you cared was the last time she almost died- it killed her to lose her wings and you were never there! And you teach your mate to fly right in front of her!'

Rhys growled. ‘Don’t bring my mate into this!'

‘You’ve brought mine into this!' He yelled. 'Everything she does is for you. Working for you. My mate followed you down to the mountain even when you didn’t care.'

'Of course I cared.'

'Then why did she feel so alone down there!'

‘How would you know, Azriel? You weren’t there!'

'Because I know her, bond or not. And you’ve been otherwise occupied.'

Cassian moved between the two, holding them apart. 'None of this matters to y/n does it.'

Azriel blankes them all, settling next to you. He vaguely heard Cassian send Rhysand and Feyre away. He felt him longer before he felt him leave.

And then all Azriel could feel, was you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You felt pain first. The steady thumping of it through your body. It started in your leg, numbing it. Then, her back ached- a familiar pain you'd felt before. It sent panic through you before you realised they can't take your wings twice.

Then, it was in your gut, stinging. Just the thought of moving was hurting- aching.

There was a coldness around you, draped over like shadows. Shadows...

That's when you felt the tug that you'd neglected to feel for more than half a century.

The bond. There was finally something tied to the other end.

The shadows around you must've known you were awake as they grew frantic around you.

You opened your eyes, slowly, afraid to what you may see. Afraid to the eyes you'll have to meet.

Azriel was sat on a chair next to you, bare chested with only bandages around him. Immediately, you were at a disadvantage. He was looking at you, dark eyes pouring into yours as his hands curled around shadows.

'What happened?' you asked.

'You were run through,' he said, voice wavering.

'Oh.'

'You're my mate.'

Your eyes flickered away, staring at your tent. 'Oh.'

'That's it?' he whispered. There was some heart-break tainting his voice. 'You're not gonna say something?'

You pulled the blanket over you, daring to move to sit up. He shifted, but his shadows helped you. 'What do you want me to say, Az?'

'Why did you tell Cassian and not me?' he asked. 'Why didn't you tell me, for fifty years?'

'It's-it's not a big deal.'

'Not a big deal?' he all but seethed. 'I'd say finding your mate is a pretty big thing, y/n. It's the person to spend the rest of your life with.'

'Can we not, do this now?' you winced, as the words left your mouth.

'You're right, maybe we should wait another fifty years to bring it up when you're dying.' you've never heard him be so cruel, you'd never even argued with him before this.

'I wasn't dying,' you mumbled.

He scoffed. 'You had an infected wound in your leg that you didn't tell anyone about. An ash arrow was imbedded in your back. Imbedded! You didn't see anyone about it and then- you run into battle and get yourself stabbed.'

'I didn't get myself stabbed!' you argued, your temper rising above all other judgment. 'I didn't rush out in there, wanting to die!'

'I held you as you bled out!' he yelled, standing up from his seat. You were swinging your legs over the bed, ignoring every twinge in your body. 'Do you have any idea what that's like? Not even to hold you as you die in my arms the first time but the second. And to know this time, I was holding my mate?'

You bit down on your lip. He had to use the word with such care and love even when angry. You could feel it. For once, guessing his emotions wasn't needed as you felt it all. The taunt anger in him, the pull of anxiety and above all else, the weight of his love.

Azriel walked around you. 'Please, you have to tell me. Why didn't you say something to me? Why wouldn't you tell me you're my mate? Am I that repulsive to you?'

'What?'

He gulped.

You shook your head as he knelt in front of you, shadows pooled around the two of you, as if they were trying to hold the two of you together. You took his hands, holding them and let something like love flow down the bond. 'You are the most beautiful thing in this world. Something better than me. I wouldn't burden you with that.'

He rose his gaze to you. 'Burden me?'

'Do you think i've enjoyed lying to you?' you ask, finally finding your words. 'Do you think I've liked being your mate and never being with you? That I left you for fifty years and thought of you every moment of every day, all day long. That when I come back I wonder if you or Mor had grown closer? Or if Elian would finally tell you how much she loves you? It's been eating me alive. But it's a small price to pay.'

Azriel grasped at his words, chocking on them. 'Elian is nothing to me, nothing.'

You pushed yourself up, using his shoulder to steady yourself before you move around him. 'Why? Have you only just decided that because I’m your mate? That’s not how it should go, Azriel.'

He was following you around your tent as you slipped on armour and leathers over your night dress. ‘I want you, only you.'

'Because of the bond?'

'Because I’ve always only wanted you!'

You laugh. 'No, you haven’t.'

'If we’d talked about this maybe fifty years ago you’d know that!'

You shook your head. Perhaps a part of you didn't want to believe him and all those wasted years at your fault, but you didn't want to believe his words either. Because what did that mean? That he loved you and wanted you. But that seemed just as impossible to you. How could he want someone so wrecked who'd done nothing but run away from her feelings and does nothing to make anyone happy?

'I don't want you to feel like that,' said Azriel, approaching her. She thought she'd spoken aloud before she realised he could feel everything that was hers. She'd only ever had to shield her thoughts from her brother- and he rarely sort her thoughts. 'Please, please-' he took your shoulders, turning you around and gently resting his head on yours.

You could feel his warm breath over your lips. You almost lost all resolve, with him that close. You'd never been so close to him, close enough to touch. To kiss. To know finally what it mean to have that deep connection that everyone was meant for.

One person in the whole world to belong to.

And he was stuck with her.

'Azriel-'

'Whatever you're thinking about yourself, i've thought about me a thousand times. And ever since we were kids you've always stopped me from thinking that. You've always told me what I was worth,' he whispered. His hands were wondering down your arms, sending shivers down you. He could've been doing it on purpose, distracting you. 'Why won't you accept it for yourself?'

You gulped down every uneasy thought. 'Because you're good, Az and i'm-'

'You're everything.'

'I'm not,' you look up at him, his own face blurry from your tears unwilling to fall. 'I'm not a fighter, i'm afraid of pain. And I could never be a leader, because i'm scared of losing people. I'm terrified about it half the time. Why do you think I followed Rhys down to that stupid party that I knew I wouldn't come back from? Because he'd do the same for me? We both know he wouldn't. But what would losing him mean for you? or Cass, or Mor? I was a coward and I wanted to hide from all the pain his leaving would have caused.'

Azriel shook his head, words sinking in. You were comparing yourself, to warriors like him and Cass, to the high lord- your own brother. 'It was unbearable without you. Maybe if it was just Rhysand i'd have still been able to be spymaster, because that's what he needed. But when I realised you'd gone to, it ruined me,' he admitted. 'I didn't care what you would've wanted, because you weren't here to tell me.'

You rub at your forehead, the tension creating a pain in your already aching body.

'And to anyone who made you feel inferior or worthless, i'll kill them,' he said. It was a shine of the real Azriel. The one who made a promise and never broke it.

You smirk. 'Can't kill the high lord.'

'No,' huffed Azriel, like it was a mild inconvenience. 'But I sure can punch him in the face.'

You laughed at that and Azriel smiled. He'd cracked you.

But your amusement dropped quickly, he felt it like a penny dropping. He let go of you as you turned away, wiping at your eyes. He didn't want to see you cry, didn't want to be the one to make you upset. He only wanted to make you feel loved.

'This isn't how I wanted this to go.'

Azriel suddenly felt conscious of himself. Maybe this wasn't so much about what you felt, maybe it was more about what you felt toward him. 'You really hate the mating bond that much?'

You look over to him. 'Being your mate is my greatest honour. But I don't want you to love me just because you have to.'

'It's not that-'

'And I know you're gonna keep saying that.'

'Until you believe me,' he assured her. 'Even if I have to tell you every day until I die.'

'I can't ask you to do that.'

He smiled at you, a heart-breaking smile of love. 'You haven't.'

You open your mouth to say something, but you're interrupted by Cassain poking his head through the tent flaps. The rest of his whole body was hidden, only showing his bronze face and hair framing him. There was a sheepish smile on his lips.

Azriel huffed. 'Cassian.'

'What? It didn't sound like much love making going on.'

'Mother above,' you sighed.

'What?' whined Cassian. 'I'm just saying, didn't sound like I was interrupting anything.'

'Personally I didn't know he was capable of saying that many words,' said another voice, familiar and dull. Nesta.

You frown. 'I'm sorry, is the whole camp out there.' You storm out, without Azriel to stop you.

He let you get away, again, and now there was no way he'd get you to accept the bond until the battle was done.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next time you and Azriel spoke, the war was over.

Elian had stabbed Hybern, Nesta had delivered the killing blow, to the head. And your brother had died.

For those few minutes of his death you wanted Feyre weep for him as you stood paralyzed, unable to move. This was the brother you worshiped, the one you’d follow to the end of the world. Did he know that when he went where you could not follow?

Feyre had done everything she could, she begged for his life back. And when her wish was granted, you were collapsing on his other side. Tears of joy in your eyes that Rhys wiped away.

Your family, safe.

Everyone seemed happy to return to Velaris. Home. Scars were left over everyone, fears and pains. Some wore them better than others.

You'd thrown yourself into life. And avoiding Azriel. Suddenly there were many friends you'd neglected that you needed to take dinner with, or so many spontaneous Rita nights with Nesta.

And none of it escaped his notice. The steady thump of the bond still thrived inside of you, his shadows followed everywhere you went, even loitering in your room.

If he was doing it in an attempt to annoy you, then you weren't gonna break first.

After a particularly harrowing Rita's night, the only thing you wanted to do was sleep in for the rest of the day, hide away from everyone and everything. Call it your coping mechanism.

Alas, there was no peace as your curtains were thrown open, light spilling in and burning through your eyelids.

'Knock it off!' the shadows had never bothered with waking you up before- it seemed they'd picked the worst time to start.

'We need to talk,' said a voice that certainly wasn't a shadow.

Rhysand.

You groan, rolling over. 'Can't you talk to me when i'm not hungover.'

'And when would that be, sister? you're getting as bad as Nesta.'

You throw your pillow off and at him, but he dodged it easily and with a smug smile. 'I hate it when you call me that.'

'What? When I compare you to Nesta? Clean up your act then.' He stood over your bed, his arms folded over his chest.

You glare at him. 'I meant sister.' You shuffled up, brushing your hair back.

Rhysand frowned and perched himself on the edge of your bed. There was something he wasn't saying, and you watched it weight heavy on his shoulders. 'You know the last time I was in your room you were throwing glasses at me and yelling at me to get out.'

'Well, don't give me ideas.'

His lips curled into a smile of amusement before he turned solemn again. 'Do you love me, y/n?'

You hadn't expected that. Your hangover could only get worse, your head swimming with possibilities as to why he was asking. And nervous, you were nervous. Maybe you'd never said you loved him out loud but surely your actions were enough of a tell. 'You're my high lord and my brother, of course.' you shrug it off, as if it was nothing.

The shadows trailed up the bed, as if sensing your anxiety.

Rhysand glanced over at you. 'Do you think I don't love you?'

You hesitate, chewing at the skin of your gum.

'Because I do. I do love you. You're my little sister, how can I not?' he muttered. 'And I didn't know you felt like that.'

'It was just sort of... obvious,' you said. 'I was never your sister, not really. I always knew that. You'd never see me like that so, I gave up thinking you would. But you're the only family I have.'

'No, I'm not,' he denied. 'Y/n, everyone in this house loves you. They're your family. And i'm sorry- i'm so sorry if my actions have ever made you think different.'

'Why now?' you ask, eyes screwed up looking at him. 'Why are you saying all this now, what's changed?'

He shook his head, strands of his hair- the same as yours- falling over his eyes. 'You almost died, died on that battlefield and I-I wasn't the first one there. Granted, it was your mate that reached you first but I, I wasn't there quick enough.'

You meet his gaze, his purple eyes sad in a way you'd only ever seen under the mountain. 'You died.'

'And as I was dying one of my deepest regrets was not calling you sister enough,' he shifted closer, taking your head in his hands as if you were a little kid. 'You are my sister. Full flesh and blood. Full love of mine. You are my family. After everything you've done for me. You were right, I needed you under there, when there was nothing good to keep me grounded, but you. My little sister.'

You were sure you were tearing up in front of him.

'You'll always be my sister.'

You laugh. 'Maybe I should get stabbed more often.'

'No,' he said seriously. 'I don't think Azriel would like that very much.'

The mention of him changed the tone in conversation, changed the very beating of your heart.

'What's going on with you two?'

'Oh, I see,' you tease, 'talk to me above sister and brotherly relations just to get in my love life. Not a good look on you high lord.'

He laughed. 'No, it's not that. I just care about the two of you, a lot. And you both deserve to be happy. And I think you'd be happiest with each other.'

You look down, twirling the rings on your fingers.

'Would it be so bad to try to love him?'

You shake your head, smiling as a tear rolls down your cheek. 'I don't even have to try. Feels like i've loved him forever.' his shadows climbed up your arm, leaving Rhysand to smile at the affection.

'You'll work it out,' said Rhys, leaning over and kissing the crown of your head.

Your door was thrown open, startling the two of you.

Azriel stood there. For his entrance, he didn't at all seem that confident when he stood in front of the two of you. His hands didn't know how to hold themselves in front of him.

Your brows rose. 'Were you listening at the door?'

'Azriel,' scolded Rhysand with a stupid grin.

'Get dressed,' he said simply to you. 'There's something you need to see.'

Without much room for argument, you kicked them both out and dressed.

You'd grudgingly let Azriel hold your hand as he led you through the woods. You'd winnowed in at an illyrian camp before he took you through it and into the woods close by.

It was the same camp you'd first met Azriel in. The oldest where you'd all become friends. You'd asked what you were doing there, but he was quiet as he led you through, helping you over roots or breaking twigs from the trees so they didn't hit you.

'Azriel, to any other girl, you leading her silently through a woods without saying anything would be a bit suspicious,' you tell him. His shadows trailed behind the two of you and his hand was secure in yours. You knew not to be scared, but you were still cautious.

'I wouldn't show any girl this,' he said.

After another half hour of walking, the two of you stumbled across a small hut. It was a tiny thing really, made out of twigs and sticks, hay and mud. It looked like something a child was capable of making.

Azriel paused in front of it. He let go of you hand and reached for the door. He was as tall as it and his wings had to tuck in tightly behind him.

Hesitantly, you followed in.

It was just as small as it looked and dirty, like it hadn't been touched in years. Cobwebs hung low (his shadows quickly tried to bat them all away for you) there was dirt and hay all over the floor. Glasses were dust filled and left around with a hundred other things. Some looked new, others old.

And yet, strangely familiar.

'I made this place,' said Azriel.

You looked back at him. He was hunched over a large box that was overflowing with things. 'You?'

'The first time my brothers picked on me, I came to these woods, working on this for days. Every time things got too much back then, i'd come here. I've been coming back for years.' he glanced at you, a sheepish look on his face. 'I've never showed anyone this before.'

You look around the place in new perspectives. The shadows settled around the place. You pictured a little Az, running here and hiding from his brothers. Did he feel alone? Did he feel un-loved? You were so enamoured by it you didn't realise he'd settled on the ground, pulling out things from his box.

'This is your glove, the one's you were wearing when we first met. You took them off to beat up some kid who was being mean to me. You didn't go back for them, you didn't even care.'

He said, pulling out a pair of red wool gloves. In spite of the hut, they were in perfect condition. Pristine. You remembered first meeting him, remembered the little soldier who'd been horrible. Those gloves wouldn't go anywhere near your hand now.

Azriel went in again. 'This is the empty glass jar of the cream you used to help my burns. Here's a book you read to me when I couldn't flip the pages myself. The notes you'd leave when you had to go back to camp. The flowers you picked for me and gave me for my birthday. Dried and stamped from every time you gave them to me.'

You stood, in shock as he kept taking things out.

'A terrible drawing I did of you when I was young. A locket of yours that broke and you never wore again. Stamps from our first theatre trip. Empty bottles from our first night together in Rita's- and Cassian's too. A letter you wrote to me when I was on a mission. A black ribbon from your hair, you used to always wear it with these things. Honestly, the amount I have in here,' and he pulled out several, of varying shades. Black, white, grey, red, dark green. All yours.

Azriel wasn't done. 'A page of annotations you did in one of Rhysand's books. A copy of your favourite poems. A coaster from the first time just you and I went to dinner. Here's some stones from when I first taught you to skim them. A quill that I used to use to write you letters. An old ring of yours is here too. Here's the first dagger you got me. It's too precious to me to be used to kill.'

Tears were falling down your cheeks as you watched him pull them all out and explain them in depth. There was more but the sight of it all was becoming blurred through your tears. The bond felt heavy and beautiful in you.

Azriel finally put the box down and fell to his knees in front of you. His hands came around the back of your thighs, holding you there as his eyes looked up into yours. 'Don't you ever think I don't love you, when I have loved you since we were eleven years old.'

You stutter on you breath. 'H-how?'

He rests his head on your stomach, looking utterly at your will and completely in love. 'How could I not?'

Slowly, as you could not move too fast, you settled down on your knees across from him. His hands moved up to your arms as yours went to his cheeks, brushing back his hair.

'It was always going to be you, wasn't it?' you mumbled. 'How could it be anyone else?'

Azriel kissed you then, finally. His lips were as soft as they'd looked, as you'd always imagined. His hands drifted to your waist, finger tips digging into to hold you close. His hands were strong, but his lips were gentle. He pulled away, only to groan in need before reaching for your lips again, harder, desperate.

His teeth bit down on your bottom lip, tongue sliding in to feel every corner of your mouth as his hands wondered around you, trying to grip onto any bit of you he could. Your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer. Close enough to consume, to breath in.

You pulled back enough to catch your breath, arms still around his shoulders. 'Mother above, am I gonna make you the best meal of your life.'

But that could wait. For now, you'd settle for a dusty floor in the little house in the woods.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Taglist: @tothestarsandwhateverend @darlingbravebelle @lil-lupa @haileycannotcometothephantom @fairywriter-oracle @isa1b2h3 @tele86 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @unleashthelion @naturakaashi @aurora1115 @sirens-and-moonflowers @azriels-shadowsinger @willowpains @crazylokonugget @abysshaven @anuttellaa @wishfulwithwine @one-big-fangirl @harrystylesfan2686 @charlotteintumbleland @mellowarcadefun @starseedsamurai

[solbaby7]

Seen

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: possible swearing but this is mainly just fluff, maybe a splash of sexual tension but I love a good slow burn when it comes to azzyboy

summary: Nosy by nature, you follow a few stray shadows somewhere you know you don’t belong—better not get caught

—

You shouldn’t be here.

You definitely shouldn’t be here.

But everytime you stopped, tried to turn back and go where you came, those little shadows stopped you. Wrapping around your legs like snakes, pulling at your clothes and gently pushing you forward down a dark hallway with only one door.

You knew you shouldn’t have touched it.

But the little shadows twisted the knob for you, door opening with a slow creek.

“Absolutely not,” You say to the hovering shadow, unsure if it could understand you but the way it curled around your shoulders and urged you forward seemed like a “actually, you will”.

It was a little colder in here, a room filled to the brim with all sorts of treasures. Weapons hang neatly against the wall above the fireplace, swords sharper than the jagged rocks weathered by the crashing tide deep below the mountains. Armor and fighting leathers of all sizes and stitching hang on a rack in the corner, perfectly clean save a few random holes—war wounds you concluded.

But whose?

The answer becomes more apparent when you prod a little further, carefully observing rare books; some with languages carved on the spine you hadn’t even known existed. Paintings hang on the wall, some of landscapes, a few of the Night Court, but one makes your eyes widen—the painting Feyre had made for Azriel.

You step back immediately, the shadow holding at your arm to brace you. “I really shouldn’t be in here.” You whisper at it, fixing the papers on the desk you’d stumbled into.

“No, you really shouldn’t.”

Your body freezes, hands stuck in place over the little wooden figurine you’d knocked over and the profanity that slips out is nothing above a whisper. “I swear I wasn’t snooping.”

It definitely looks like you’re snooping, hands all over personal paperwork that once you squinted your eyes to look at, you realize they’re reports; mission debriefs, important information that you certainly shouldn’t know and the whine that pulls in your distress, Azriel actually finds kind of cute. “Okay.” There’s no reading the expression on his face, dark hair tumbling down his shoulders. His shirts unbuttoned, golden brown skin capturing your attention and you force your eyes away before you get caught up in the giant wings tucked behind him. “Why are you here?”

Your fear morphs into anger, pointer finger jabbing at the two shadows slinking about your feet, nearly fully hidden if it weren’t for the smoke like wisps that curled in the air. “They made me, I swear. I didn’t even open the door.”

Azriel says nothing, wings ruffling when he beckoned them, silently commanding they return but the shadows don’t obey. They hide behind your frame, flitting about your clothes and one settles around the back of your neck like a sleepy cat. “Interesting.”

“They’re kinda cute,” You admit softly, eyes transfixed on the newest addition to your shoulders and when your fingers come to touch it, it feels cool. “—if they weren’t so naughty.” As if remembering you’re not alone you look back up, hand lowering back down to your sides as you stand there awkwardly. “But, I suppose I didn’t exactly fight them that hard—I was a little curious.”

“Dangerous thing, curiosity. People have killed over less.”

It takes everything in you not to step back because even though the words are slightly threatening, they aren’t untrue. “I apologize—I’ll go now.”

“If you weren’t actually snooping through my papers,” Azriel begins, the shadows attached to him preventing you from going any further and the two connected to you reach out to the others—bumping against one another like bees communicating where the most pollen was. A few more reach out to you, curiously prodding at your clothes, your hair, curling around your arm and gliding through the gaps of your fingers. “What were you looking at?”

You answer quickly albeit a little distracted by the smoky darkness crawling up your shirt and around your neck. “I was—“ Your breath catches when they squeeze a little, blush fanning. “Can you get them off please?”

“Believe it or not,” You dare look up at him and find that he looks just as flustered as you by his shadows. “I’m trying but they’re not really responding to me at the moment.”

Panic is evident on your face and the swirling gems containing the true extent of his power behinds to glow a little, shadows being pulled back like a magnet no matter how hard they latch on. “Does that happen often.”

Azriel’s hand reached out, snatching at one that dared try to pull away. He doesn’t look at you when he tucks it back with the others. “No.”

There’s a pause, a silence that’s not exactly uncomfortable but you still feel the need to fill it when you skim over parts of the room you hadn’t been able to explore before. “What is all of this stuff?” You’re moving before you can tell your feet to stop, settling before a glass cabinet filled with all sorts of precious gems, glimmering necklaces and two neatly hung dresses and though neither are quite as high quality as the stones; your hand still hovers over them, fingertips millimeters from the shiny glass. “It’s beautiful.”

You don’t hear anything for some time, too entranced with the golden arm cuff that had been carefully designed into a vine with detailed leaves and stems that seemed to grow the longer you stared at it. “They’re for,” Azriels voice is low, clearing his throat when his breath catches slightly. “—they were for my mother.”

Were.

You don’t look at him, granting him the gift of privacy because it was obvious this wasn’t exactly an easy subject and even more clear that procuring this many words from him was a feat in itself. You hum instead, trying to appear as casual as possible as you appreciate items not meant for other eyes—treasures meant for a someone who was no longer with us. “She must’ve been lovely—probably a bit complex,” You say without thinking. “Probably really kind too and good with nature,” You add, looking back at the arm cuff.

A blush forms when you finally turn to face him again, his mouth is slightly agape and you can’t quite put your finger on the way he’s staring at you. “You get all that from some jewelry?”

You scoff as if they’re your own, defending them like you’d picked them yourself. “They’re not just jewelry. Look at how intricate the pieces are,” You point at them, never touching the glass in fear of leaving a fingerprint or possibly breaking it. “Each and every one of them probably look careful thought and planning and endless hours of time spent bringing it to life. The care; the love put into them it’s—“ You let out a breath, realizing how fast you were talking and how quick you were breathing. Suddenly, you feel shy with his eyes studying you. “It’d be a disservice to just call them jewelry when it’s so clear her soul’s in every piece.”

Azriel’s not a man of many words, so you don’t force them. Instead you dip you head in farewell, returning the clingy shadows and making way to leave when you hear a whisper so soft you nearly mistake it for the wind. “I thought so too.”

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Omega Ours - Part 1 | Alpha!Cassian x Alpha!Nesta x Omega!Reader| Short Series 2.7k

After fighting your way out of every potential mating offered to you, your village sends you off with the High Lord. Rhysand, tired of dealing with the Alphas living in the House of Wind, gifts you to Cassian and Nesta in the hopes that it'll settle all three of you down.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, language & themes. Omegaverse dynamics including Alpha & Omega and the sexist assumptions/implications that go along with it, heat/heat cycles, forced proximity, d/s themes, only one bed (and only one chaise), lots of tropey tropes! No use of YN but liberal use of pet names.

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Cassian & Nesta - from Pinterest

Created for @polyacotarweek - prompt 5 faveourite tropes (Omegaverse, only one bed, forced proximity, sort of insta-love)

Part 2 will be posted on the 13 (Free day!) follow @illyrianlibrary for updates ❤️

Part 2 | Masterlist | Poly Fics | Cassian

The only way to describe the couple stood before you was - handsome. 

The High Lord and Lady who’d brought you here were beautiful, elegant. But this couple could only be described as handsome, strong, Alpha. 

You knew them, of course. General Cassian of the Nightcourt and his mate, Lady Nesta. Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death, they’d called them in the camps that circled the Illyrian villages like pilot fish on a shark.  

“I’ve brought you a present,” Rhysand drawled, pointing at you. “Well, it’s a favour and a present. The last unmated omega of the season. She's  from the Western Isles, I thought it might help to tamp down your behaviour if you two had a project.” He grinned and you turned to look at Nesta and Cassian again. 

It was true, you’d rejected every mate offered to you, bitten some of them, in your desperation to get away, and that’s how you’d lost your freedom. Fighting the boys from the village was one thing, fighting an Illyrian was another. They’d hauled you into the camp in front of the High Lord on his last visit and demanded compensation. 

Rhysand, ever flush with jewels and gold, had paid them and then had a set of cuffs and leathers made for you. Nightcourt black velvet, red stitching and silver buckles. But restraints were still restraints, no matter how soft they felt against your wrists and ankles. He’d had new clothes made for you as well, traditional sheer panels of matching blood red that hung in gossamer curtains down your legs, pooling around you as you were forced to your knees in front of the Lady and General. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Nesta studied her nails, her air bored but her eyes kept flickering towards you. 

“Come now, Nesta, we both know you and Cassian caused quite the stir the last time you were both in heat.” 

You were right then, you could smell it on them anyway, that raw power and strength that designated them as Alpha. 

“Still -  you want us to take care of your problems?” Nesta huffed. 

“Of course not, she’s a gift, for you and Cass, if you happen to tame her enough that she stops mauling my men then that’s a bonus.” 

You looked between them, it was undeniable how attractive they were. Better than the mud caked idiots from the village at least, but you still railed against the hand that dragged you back to your feet. 

Cassian kept his hand under your elbow, pinching your cheeks with his other hand. “Come on, Nes. She’s cute, isn’t she?” He angled your face up towards his mate. 

Nesta shrugged one shoulder and you snarled, snapping at Cassian’s fingers. 

“Feisty,” he gave a deep chuckle, “I like that, that’s how Nes and I got together.” He hauled you over his shoulder, your legs and arms dangling, the panels of your dress slipping dangerously. 

“Put me down!” You beat your fists on his back. 

“Should have thought of that before you tried to bite me,” he teased, jostling you. 

You scowled at Nesta, who followed, laughing, through the halls of the palace and then tried using the only knowledge you had about the Illyrians. You reached out and grabbed his wing, squeezing as tightly as you could. 

He growled back, the sound travelling up through his chest into yours, vibrating your very core. 

“You want to play rough? Good.” 

Cassian shouldered a heavy door open and suddenly the sweeping corridor was gone and a dark, warm room wrapped itself around you. 

The walls were an oxblood red with thick velvet curtains that lay heavily in front of the eternally open windows. The soft jasmine breeze that circulated through the house was mixed with the cleaner scent of mountain air and the crackling of a fire, rich and inviting. 

The general set you down, his gaze travelling slowly down your figure. He clenched his jaw and then instantly turned to his mate, cupping her cheeks in his large hands and kissing her roughly. She growled in response, leaning into his embrace and allowing him to lift her against his body. You watched as he carried her across the room to an open archway, almost hidden behind a large tapestry, and then they vanished again. 

Tentatively, as much as you could with the thin chain connecting your ankles, you crept across the room to the curtain, now brushed back and curling heavily on the polished floor. 

Nesta and Cassian were tangled on the bed, the heady scent of their arousal lay thick in the air, the bedsheets already rumpled as if they’d been interrupted before, the room in disarray. 

On both bedside tables there were stacks of books of various genres, a pitcher of water on one and dagger on the other. 

“Either come in or go,” Nesta groused from the bed, hair messy, one of Cassian’s hands still tangled in the long golden-brown strands. 

“Play nice, Nes.” The general laughed, biting at Nesta’s earlobe. “You can join us or you can sleep,” he said over his shoulder. 

Sure enough there was a small chaise made up with blankets at the end of the bed. You shuffled over, and fell heavily onto the soft cushions listening to the sound of their love making. Each grunt and moan made you press your thighs together harder. Each stifled sigh had your hands twitching, itching for something more. You may have rejected every attempt at a mating, but you weren’t completely without feeling, without desire and needs and lust. 

You lifted your hands to cover your ears, the chain between them digging into the bridge of your nose, and fell into a confused sleep. 

 You awoke to the sound of moving bodies and cloth dragging on the floor. 

“She’s asleep, let her rest, Cas.” 

“What if she’s cold?” The footsteps came closer and you tensed on instinct. The steps stopped, but a gentle weight floated down on you, a large cotton blanket, awash with their scent, settled. 

“I’m going to wash,” Nesta’s voice faded as she walked away but there was no other movement. 

“I know you’re awake.” His voice was loud in your ear, closer than you’d expected and you jumped again, almost sliding from the chaise. Cassian’s arm caught you, tight around your waist and his bareskin was so warm against your own. You cracked one eye open and looked around the room as best you could with his wings blocking out the faint candlelight.

His arm was speckled with tiny scars that twinkled against his tan skin, the hair that decorated his forearm was as dark as the long tendrils that brushed over his shoulders and this close, his chin almost resting on your own arm, he smelt heavenly. That mixture of his own scent and Nesta’s even stronger in his proximity and, no doubt, enhanced by their earlier activities. 

“If you want, you can borrow some clothes.” His voice was a sleepy rumble and you resisted the urge to let your omega instincts take over and push yourself back into his chest, seek out that warmth, that comfort - but you didn’t respond. 

The sound of running water in the other room stopped, replaced with the gentle pad of Nesta’s footsteps and then she was in front of you. Surrounded by them again you had to fight back every urge to give in to her wicked mouth, her lips plump and kiss bitten. 

“We’ve left you some things on the chair, choose what you will. If you want to join us on the bed, you can.” Nesta moved away taking Cassian with her and you assumed from the gentle rustle of sheets they were back in bed. 

The chair that sat opposite their grand fireplace was strewn with clothes, silky looking negligees and billowing linen shirts, some cotton leggings and a pair of woollen socks. 

Waiting a moment, hoping they weren’t looking, you rose from the chaise and rushed for the chair. The translucent dress the High Lord had had you wear left your skin cold and bare, exposed and vulnerable. Cassian’s shirt was a welcome relief, covering your body from view, although the two slits in the back for his wings did feel slightly odd. The socks were warm and fluffy, long enough to reach almost to your knees. Redressed, you turned to return to your chaise and tugged the blanket up to your chin. 

You didn’t really want to spend the entire night there, but you also refused to give in to the ridiculousness of the situation. No one chose your mate, or mates, for you and you’d rather sleep on the tiny chaise that allow anyone to take that choice from you. 

Thankfully, Nesta and Cassian had turned away, the Illyrian’s large wings spread over the bed,. Shielding his mate from view? Or stopping her from following you around the room with her silver stare? You weren’t sure, but you were grateful as you closed your eyes. 

It was only as you were falling asleep that you realised you were snuggled into the shirt, inhaling Cassian’s scent, and by then it was too late, you were tumbling into your dreams. 

The next morning Cassian and Nesta were gone, but someone had left a tray of food, a pot of tea and a stack of books on the table. The doors to the balcony were open and the jasmine wind blew the curtains back so invitingly you couldn’t resist. 

You were halfway through one of the books they’d left, something by Sellyn Drake that had far more smut in it than you were anticipating. A slice of buttered toast was stuck halfway to your mouth as you stared transfixed at the page, when the door opened. Cassian held the door for Nesta, taking a long sword from her hand and placing it on the table that was perpetually strewn with weapons. His own sword and daggers followed and the two of them began to strip out of their leathers. 

There had been a rumour that Nesta trained alongside the Lord of Bloodshed and the Shadowsinger, trained with other women as well, but you hadn’t thought to believe it until now. 

Her leathers were tight against skin, a sheen of sweat making her sparkle, her long hair was tied up in what was now a messy ponytail and, most surprising of all, she was smiling broadly at Cassian. He returned the smile, cupping her cheek and pulling her in for a kiss, his hands wandering down to the buckles and clasps that held her fighting leathers together. 

Cassian looked equally as powerful, his own armour dark against his tanned skin, his tattoos flowing under the leather before appearing again at his collar bone and trailing over his shoulders towards the vast wings at his back. You set the book down slowly, the lust filled scene already had you feeling hot under Cassian’s shirt even before they appeared. 

The movement caught his eye and he turned, taking Nesta with him and pinning her against his chest. They way they looked at you, like the most delicious prey, had you pressing your legs together. You wouldn’t give in to this, especially not when it was exactly what that smug prick of a High Lord wanted. 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he cooed, “Would you like to join us?” 

It was Nesta who held her hand out, crooking her finger to coax you forward. “We’re going to bathe, the tub is large enough for three, come.” It was more a demand than a question and, though you longed to see how far down Cassian’s tattoos went and how Nesta would look covered in bubbles, you resisted again. 

With a shake of your head you went back to your book, trying to ignore the sound of them together through the wall. 

You fell into a rhythm, the three of you. Nesta and Cassian continued as they were, training, working in the library and attending meetings, and inviting you to join them whenever they were together. 

Your nights on the chaise were becoming increasingly uncomfortable, but you refused to be worn down by their requests, preferring to stay silent and read alone either on the balcony or by the fire. No amount of reading could drown out the sound of their love making, though. If you could call it that, judging by the bruises both of them sported proudly and the way their headboard banged against the stone wall. 

Despite your protests their allure was difficult to ignore, their playful banter, the care and attention they showed each other, even the way they whispered in bed, dissecting the day's events and, on a few occasions, discussing you. 

This only happened when you were pretending to sleep heavily, breathing slow and steady as you wished for dreams to take you. 

“Nes, did you see the way my shirt fit her today, rolling up her thighs-” Cassian had made a deep, guttural noise, only to be shushed by Nesta. 

“Yes, Cas, stop, she’s right over there.” Nesta hissed in return. 

“I know, God, she’s so fucking close, don’t you think she smells good?” 

“You know I do.” The sheets rustled and you heard Nesta whimper as a wave of arousal flooded you. They could smell you, you knew it and you couldn’t stop it. 

Sleeping in their room, bathed in their scent every day, surrounded by their things, it was like a huge nest and the longer you lingered here the more you wanted to give in and climb into their bed, to be between them and allow them to care for you.

You knew something had changed when you woke up drenched in sweat. As usual, Nesta and Cassian had already left the room, your breakfast arranged in its spot, clothes laid out for you. They’d started adding some new things, items that smelt like neither of them, clean linen and lavender, but you were still drawn to their items the most. Perhaps, it was the way they smiled when they saw you cuddling into one of Cassian’s shirts or standing on the balcony in one of Nesta’s dresses. But you refused to confront that feeling. 

Despite your long, cold, bath you still felt hot and uncomfortable. It was mid way through stripping off your linen trousers that Nesta reappeared. She moved with a preternatural grace that you were sure existed well before her sister’s ascent to High Lady. A smoothness to each turn of her hand, or extension of her arm, she made walking seem like a dance and you were transfixed.  

Nesta stopped as soon as she saw you, her nostrils flared, almost imperceptibly.

“Are you okay?” she asked in that cool, silvery voice. 

“Yes,” your voice felt hoarse. You barely spoke and had gone days without saying anything to either of them, merely existing in their presence. But now, locked by her gaze, there was no escaping. 

“You seem -” she weighed her words carefully, “unwell.” 

“I can assure you, I’m fine.” You took a half step towards the balcony doors, hoping the breeze would cool your skin. 

Nesta hummed, surveying you from head to toe. “I’d feel better if you got into bed.” 

You knew this was as persuasive as Nesta could be, a simple request made in the lowest of tones, an argument not worth having. 

“I-” 

“The bed.” She crossed the room swiftly and turned you towards the large, velvet draped bed that took up a large portion of the room. Since your first entrance into Nesta and Cassian’s suite, you’d done your best to avoid even looking at it. Now there was no escape.

Your hands were shaking, a tingling heat rising from your spine and coiling in your stomach. On this occasion, just once, you’d listen to her. “Fine.” With great difficulty, you pulled the shirt over your head and dropped it to the floor. You were so tired. When had you become so tired?

Nesta’s deft fingers grasped your chin, holding you still so she could look at your pupils, large and frightened. “Get in bed and go to sleep,” she insisted, and you obeyed. 

Part 2

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Astera, lounging in an armchair with a book abandoned in her lap: If I had a title that didn't directly tie me to my home court or my brother, what would it be?

Cassian, immediately: Shadowfucker

Azriel, after a few moments of contemplation: Lady of Nightmares

Cassian: That one's good. She's terrifying.

Astera, cracking an eye open to glance at Cassian: I'm not that bad, Cass

Cassian, side eyeing her: . . . Riiiiiiiighhhht

Rhysand, smirking:

Astera, with a sigh: Rhys, I swear to gods. . . If you say 'the High Lord's whore'

Rhysand: I didn't. . . Say anything. But you did, darling

Astera, regretting asking the question: Yeah, I won't be the High Lord's whore tonight

Rhysand, gaping at her: Now that's not fair

Azriel, raising an eyebrow at her: Who will you be?

Astera, casually: Shadowfucker, probably. . .

Cassian: Can. . . Can I?

Astera: Maybe

Your honor, they're so silly. I love them.