#cassian x mate!reader

[jiarkives]

can I please request some cassian (acotar) x reader fluff? maybe he's been away on a long mission and he's finally home with his mate and he can't keep his hands off of her because he missed her so much ... (it can get smutty if you want) thank you!! xx

clingy

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ summary — your mate gets even clingier after being apart from you.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ character — cassian (a court of thorns and roses)

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ content — fluff ; written with fem!reader in mind

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ notes — thank you for the request! i hope i did your idea justice hehehe also the ending is kinda wack jdhdhdhdhd my hand was on autopilot basically

~

Mor, Amren, and Nesta all looked annoyed, Feyre and Elain looked... uncomfortable, at most, while you could only smile awkwardly as you sipped your tea soundly, smacking your lips for effect as you put the cup down. “Lovely weather today, am I right?”

“Oh, cut it out!” Nesta grumbled, crossing her arms on her chest as she glared at you. Well, not at you, but rather at the male beside you.

“Aren’t we going to address the elephant in the room?” Mor spoke up as her eyes fell on your mate whose arms were wrapped around your waist and his face burrowed into the crook of your neck, his eyes closed. One would think he was asleep, but if they would looked closer, they would’ve seen the shit eating grin plastered on his face.

(The sisters were definitely rubbing off of the inner circle, especially with their figures of speech which were definitely confusing at first for the immortals.)

“Is that what you’re calling me now? An elephant?” Cassian picked his head up briefly from your neck to address the females in the garden with you. “I bet I could beat those creatures in a split second. Am I right?” He turned to the sisters with a cocky smirk, his eyebrows wiggling.

All of them ignored him, only looking at you with exasperated expressions. Feyre sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, Amren shook her head, Elain tried to look busy, while Nesta and Mor were practically fuming.

“You do understand the concept of a girls’ day, don’t you?” Mor addressed you, her eyebrows pinched together.

“Yes, of course–”

“Then tell this big, dumb pile of muscle to let go off you and fuck off.” Nesta glared at Cassian who grumbled and tightened his hold on you.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” You sighed. “He had just come back from Windhaven with Az earlier at dawn and hadn’t let me out of sight since, but we’ve already had this day set even before their mission and I didn’t want to cancel last minute...” Your words slowed at the last part as you smiled sheepishly. “But maybe I should’ve just cancelled...?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t be a bother,” Feyre, ever the mediator, immediately stepped in before Mor and Nesta could blow up even more. “So let’s just continue as planned, but with Cassian here, who I’m sure will behave.” She looked over to Cassian, her gaze stern and receiving a mock salute in return from the male. “See? No need for rescheduling.”

Cassian turned to Nesta, sticking his tongue out at her like a toddler, but immediately stopped and hid his face back in your neck when Feyre uttered his name in warning, causing Nesta to smirk at him smugly.

You could only sigh heavily as your mate’s arms wrapped impossibly tighter around you.

Cauldron, this was going to be a long day.

~

It was, in fact, a long day for the lot of you.

Cassian, despite Feyre’s words of warning, decided to be the most annoying little shit (affectionate for you, derogatory for the rest) during your time together.

He was a busybody, of course he was more invested in the gossip than all of you were. But not only was he gossiping harder than a teenage girl, he was acting like a lovesick teenage boy too.

He wouldn’t keep his hands off of you, even going as far as teasing you with his hands trailing where they shouldn’t. You weren’t able to focus properly on your girls, having to swat at his hand every time.

Then, the girls’ love lives were brought up. Mor was talking about the female she recently met in the city when Cassian interrupted her, “A female? What’s her name? Where does she live? Do I know her? Does Rhys know about her—”

“Mother above, Cassian!” Mor groaned out. “You’re impossibly annoying, leave me alone. Gods.”

You had quickly apologized to the girls with a promise of making up to them another time as you stood, pulling your mate up with you and winnowing into the house Rhysand had gifted you two in your mating ceremony.

As soon as you were standing in the comfort of your own home, Cassian’s smug, cocky smirk softened into one you were used to seeing on him when you were alone.

“Finally.” He groaned in relief, his hands finding their way to your hips to pull you flush to his chest. “I’ve been waiting all godsdamned day, sweetheart.”

Then, his smirk returned as he lifted you in his arms.

“Now, let me show you how much I’ve missed you.” He pushed your bedroom door open. “Properly this time.”

[soulessjourney]

Shattered Bonds

A/N: I'm back after a very much long needed break! Between starting a new job and graduating, things have been super hectic. So, why not come back with an angsty fanfic with Azriel? I also may or may not be working on the long-awaited part 2 of 'Exile'.

Paring: Azriel x fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: After being injured in battle, Azriel is consumed by guilt. But when you finally wake, you're confronted with the harsh reality that perhaps you were always replaceable.

Warnings: Violence, Language, hurt no comfort, Azriel lowkey is a dick, Injured Reader, Angst, Duel(ish) POV, Mentions of pregnancy

Death and smoke fill your lungs. A sticky substance clings to your skin, though at this point, you're unsure if it’s yours or someone else’s. Metal clashes against metal, and your hands sting from both the vibration and the rawness caused by gripping the sword's hilt. You pivot on your foot, turning quickly to keep up with your opponent, your blades moving at lightning speed. Then, you feel a foot slam into your stomach, sending you flying backward across the rough brick ground. The surface tears into your skin like tiny knives, shredding your clothes in the process.

You scramble to your feet, your eyes darting around for your attacker. Instead, they land on a blue glow and dark hair. Azriel. But before you can process this, a sharp pain stabs your side. Gasping, you turn and plunge your sword into your attacker, your eyes blazing with fury. You lock onto the wide eyes of your victim just as another sharp pain strikes your stomach. Looking down, you see something silver protruding from your abdomen.

Green wisps shoot out from you, your lip curling as blood dribbles from the corner of your mouth. You drive the sword deeper into him as he begins to gag, foam forming at the edges of his mouth. You watch as he collapses to the ground, clawing at his neck before eventually falling still. Staggering back, you wince at the ever-growing burn in your abdomen, the green wisps swirling as if seeking something.

You fall back against the crumbling building behind you, sliding down the wall as you tilt your head back, feeling the weight of your exhaustion. Your vision blurs, your mind hazy, as you clutch your stomach, finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. A red glow catches your attention, and someone sprints toward you, dropping to their knees, unsure hands hovering over your wound.

“Cassian?” Your voice is frail, barely a whisper. If your mother could hear you now, she’d be laughing in pure disappointment.

Cassian smiles down at you and gently brushes the hair from your face. “Hey there, Bug. Hang on for me, alright? Azriel is coming.” You smile at the nickname he gave you when you were younger, back when you had an obsession with ladybugs.

Nodding, you close your eyes and lean into him. “It hurts, Cass,” you mumble, wincing as you shift, trying to find some comfort.

“I know, I know. But you did such a good job,” he whispers, combing your hair back before pressing his hands firmly against your wound to stem the bleeding.

The world around you seems to darken, and you glance up to meet the eyes of your mate. Smiling weakly, you reach out to him. “Hey, Az,” you whisper as your eyes flutter closed. His horrified expression tells you everything—the wound isn’t something that can be easily fixed. In other words, it’s a "you might die" kind of wound. Joy.

Azriel looked pale, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes widened. He gently pulls you toward him, holding you close as his thumb strokes softly across your cheek. His gaze darts around frantically before locking onto Cassian.

“We need to get her back. She’s not going to survive. Let Rhys and the others know,” he says, urgency clear in his voice.

Leaning into him, you feel the comforting embrace of his shadows surrounding you. Your eyes grow heavy, and before long, sleep overtakes you.

Azriel paced around the room as you lay motionless in the bed. Every glance at you gnawed at his heart, guilt consuming him. His shadows hadn't left your side, hovering as if trying to heal you somehow. His pacing came to an abrupt stop when his brothers and Madja entered the room. Azriel didn’t miss the more somber expressions they wore, and even Madja's eyes seemed duller than before.

He turned to them, desperation shining in his gaze. “Well? What did Madja say?” he asked, his voice tight with anxiety. Cassian and Rhysand exchanged a look, as if communicating silently. Cassian nodded, then pursed his lips before facing Azriel.

“Well, there’s a chance Y/N could make it,” Cassian said gently.

Azriel felt as though his ears were ringing. A chance. Just a chance that you might wake up and survive. It wasn't a guarantee, only a possibility. His frustration boiled over. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Can’t we do something to wake her? If not, why did we even bring her back?” he spat, his shadows retracting toward him, draping over his shoulders like a dark cape.

Madja shook her head as she finished changing the dressing on your wounds. “We’ve done all we can, boy. It's her fight now. I suggest you stay here—if she wakes, the first thing she’ll want is her mate,” Madja said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “You need to be there for her, as she has been for you countless times.”

With that, she nodded to the brothers and quietly left the room, the door clicking softly behind her.

Azriel clenched and unclenched his fists, glaring at the ground. Cassian, already knowing what his brother was about to say, gently gripped his shoulder. “It’s not—”

“But it is my fault," Azriel snapped. "She wanted to stay behind and protect Feyre and the others, and I convinced her to come because I couldn’t bear to be away from her for so long. She was unsure of her skills, and I talked her into it. I’m to blame for all of this. I almost got my mate killed.” He spun, his gaze shifting between his brothers and you.

Rhysand sighed, pushing off the wall he had been leaning against. “Az, Cassian’s right. You can’t blame yourself for this. Y/N was already set on coming. She talked to me about it—she was worried about you and didn’t want to leave you stranded in battle while she stayed behind.”

Azriel let out a low growl, his siphons flashing, causing Cassian to tense. “Either way, I couldn’t protect her. And now look at her—she’s fighting for her life, and I don’t know if she’ll ever wake up.” He stepped closer to you, sinking into the chair beside your bed and gently taking your hand. “Just give me some time alone. I need to think while still being here for her,” he whispered, his eyes fixed on your chest, searching for any sign of your shallow breathing.

Cassian opened his mouth to respond, but Rhysand placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Silently, Cassian closed his mouth, turned on his heel, and walked out of the room, Rhysand following close behind. The door clicked shut, leaving Azriel alone in the deafening silence.

Azriel let his eyes trace over your face, as if committing every feature, every imperfection to memory. Gently, he ran his fingers through your hair and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve stayed by your side, like you asked. I shouldn’t have fought with you about it. You needed me, and I turned my back on you, and this is the result.”

He felt like a danger to you. Even if you survived, he believed he would only continue to put you in harm's way. You could never have a peaceful life with him. All he wanted was for you to be safe and happy, but he’d failed when it mattered most. You were his entire universe, and yet he couldn’t protect you. He had convinced himself that by staying by his side, you would never be safe—that he didn’t deserve you, not if it meant you ended up like this.

The door creaked open, and Elain poked her head in, glancing around. Stepping in, she cleared her throat softly. “Oh, Azriel, I didn’t realize you’d be here. I thought you were still with Madja and the others,” she said gently. Noticing his gaze on the moon lilies, she smiled and approached the table next to your bed. “Moon lilies. They were her favorite. For a while, I thought she was going to take over the whole garden with them. Luckily, I talked her into taking over the area by the pond. It’s beautiful with the flowers there,” Elain said, smiling down at you.

Azriel looked up at Elain, his expression unreadable. Letting go of your hand, he stood and cleared his throat. “Speaking of the flowers, I saw you loading the cart earlier. I assume you’re making rounds around Velaris to hand them out. Would you like some help?” he asked, his voice even.

Their eyes met, and Elain studied him for a moment, as if searching for the intent behind his offer. After a brief hesitation, she nodded and motioned toward the door.

You pace around the room, your leathers hugging you tightly. Nesta had spent hours wrestling with your hair, her shaky hands finally managing to braid it back. She’d have a fit if she saw the strands that had already fallen loose. Chewing on your nail, your gaze snaps to Azriel, who watches you from the bed. “I don’t know about this, Az. We still don’t know what I’m capable of. What if I hurt the wrong person?” you ask, your pacing quickening slightly.

Azriel huffs as he continues sharpening Truth-Teller. “Stop worrying so much. It’s war, Y/N. Accidents are going to happen. You can’t always prevent them. One day, you’ll have to face the reality of what you can do and accept it. I can’t always be there to shield you from the harsh truths.” His tone is sharp, and it brings you to an abrupt halt.

“I’m not asking you to shield me, Azriel. I’m asking you to be there if I lose control,” you push back, crossing your arms over your chest. Azriel tenses at the use of his full name.

Setting the dagger in his lap, he turns to face you. “And I can’t do that. My place is by Rhysand’s side, and you know that. I can’t abandon him just to keep you safe all the time. This is your chance to learn how to handle things on your own for once.”

A dry laugh escapes you, and you throw your hands up in frustration. “I never asked you to abandon him, Azriel! You were the one who insisted I come with you—especially when we don’t know what I’m capable of or that I can’t control these abilities yet. So, I’m sorry if I’m a little scared,” you say, your voice catching.

Azriel scoffs as he stands, gathering his things. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Y/N. And if not, just don’t die. We don’t need more problems weighing down the court.” His words hit you like a blow, leaving you speechless, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Taking your silence as an answer, Azriel turns his back and walks out of the room, leaving you standing there, staring at the door.

Your eyes snap open as a rush of air fills your lungs. Choking, you cough violently, feeling a hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles. Your body tenses at the unfamiliar touch, and you instinctively jerk back, putting distance between yourself and the unknown figure.

“Hey, hey, it’s me. It’s okay,” a familiar voice reassures. As your vision clears, you find yourself face to face with Cassian, his frown deepening at your reaction.

Relaxing slightly, you offer him a small smile and shift back into your original position. “Where’s Azriel?” you ask, noticing something flicker in his eyes, though you can’t quite identify the emotion. Maybe you weren’t fully awake enough to process it. Glancing around the room, you spot a few vases of dead flowers and a subtle change in the decor. Confusion clouds your face. “Cassian, how long have I been asleep?”

Cassian clears his throat, looking away as he gathers his thoughts. “It’s been about ten months,” he finally says.

It feels like a jolt of electricity surges through you. Ignoring his protests, you slide out of bed and limp toward the window. “Ten months? How—what—there’s no way,” you mutter, staring at your reflection in the glass. You turn your head from side to side, inspecting your appearance. Your face had slimmed significantly, and your eyes were slightly sunken. You still looked like yourself, but there was something off, something different. “Cassian, where is Azriel? Is he on a mission?”

Cassian sighs, running a hand over his face as he averts his gaze once again. “It’s better if I show you rather than tell you,” he mutters, glaring toward the door. “Get cleaned up, and once you’re ready, we’ll head downstairs,” he says, moving to sit on one of the couches. “I’ll wait here. Take your time.”

Nodding slowly, you turn toward the bathroom and walk in to bathe. You were somewhat clean, but it was clear they had only managed to wash the areas they could reach with a small towel. At least they had taken care of you, in some way. Stepping into the bath, you sink into the water, staring blankly at the wall. Ten months. You had been in that state for ten months, leaving your family to wait and worry.

Your thoughts drift to Azriel. Why hadn’t he been there when you woke? Why did the other end of the bond feel so empty and cold?

Sucking in a deep breath, you tug on the bond, holding it tight as you wait for a response. But when none comes, your heart clenches. Panic sets in as you hurriedly finish bathing and dressing. Throwing the door open, you face Cassian. “Has something happened to Azriel? Is he alright?”

Cassian lets out a dry snort and stands. “Yeah, something happened,” he mutters, offering you his arm. Taking it, you shoot him a confused look as the two of you walk together. “Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough.”

As you and Cassian descend the stairs, the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and silverware fill the air. A soft smile tugs at your lips as you step into the room. Mor is the first to notice you, her eyes brimming with tears as she suddenly stands and rushes toward you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Please don’t tell me this is a dream,” she rasps, clinging to you.

You and Mor had always been like sisters. Growing up surrounded by the boys, her arrival in your life had been a blessing.

“It’s not a dream,” you whisper, hugging her back just as tightly. But after a few moments, you feel Mor tense, as if she suddenly remembered something. She pulls away, giving you a sad smile that only deepens your confusion. As you look around the room, everyone avoids your gaze, though a palpable tension hangs in the air, laced with something like anger.

Your eyes shift between them, trying to understand, until they finally land on Azriel. He sits frozen, fork midair, eyes wide, body rigid. Next to him, Elaine quickly looks away, nervously biting her lip—a habit she had whenever she felt guilty about something.

“Azriel?” you call out, your voice trembling slightly. The sound of his name seems to snap him out of his stupor, and he drops his fork, spilling his drink onto Elaine’s lap.

Elaine stands abruptly, and your eyes widen in shock. Before you, a very pregnant Elaine rises, her hand instinctively resting on her belly. Your gaze travels downward, catching the glint of a ring on her finger. “You and Lucien finally made it official?” you ask, a smile breaking across your face. “I’m so happy for you!” You laugh, but the sound dies quickly when you notice everyone else’s glances shifting toward Azriel.

That’s when you see it—something you had somehow missed before. On his finger, where he once wore the engagement ring meant for you, sits a wedding band, one that matches Elaine’s.

A chill runs down your spine as your eyes snap back to his. The room feels suddenly colder, and you feel the ground give way beneath you.

“No…” you whisper, your vision blurring as the weight of it all crashes down on you.

The ring on your finger suddenly felt like it was searing into your skin, and you blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears from falling. "This is a joke, right? Some sick prank you both decided to pull?" When silence met your words, the rage inside you began to swell, and your breathing quickened. "So you’re telling me that while I was fighting for my life, you were out here screwing Elain, and somewhere along the way, you got married—and the best part? She’s pregnant?"

Something snapped inside you, and from the corner of your eye, you saw green wisps materialize, curling around you like tendrils of raw power.

Rhysand stood abruptly, and Cassian shifted closer to Nesta, instinctively protective. “Y/N, you need to breathe. I understand you're angry, but this isn’t the place to test your abilities after being asleep for ten months,” Rhysand said, trying to calm you.

You shook your head, fists clenched. “You want me to calm down? My supposed mate left me to rot in that room, just so he could chase after Elain. He abandoned me and every promise he made! I didn’t ask to be in that room—I didn’t ask to get hurt. So why should I bow down to your request when the real traitor is right here in front of all of you!”

With a final burst of fury, a smoky green tendril shot out, aimed directly at Azriel and Elain. His shadows barely blocked the blow. Elain screamed, curling in on herself to protect her stomach, while Azriel staggered back, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions surging through the bond. The betrayal, the hurt, the rage—all of it hit him like a wave, causing him to drop to his knees, gasping for breath.

You stepped closer, looming over him, and pulled the ring from your finger, letting it fall to the ground in front of him. Azriel picked it up without hesitation, his eyes wide with guilt.

"Don’t look at me like that, Azriel. It makes you look pathetic," you spat. "You chose this the moment you left me in that room to chase after Elain. After 200 years together, I was never going to compare to her, even as your mate. You’ve made it clear, Azriel—I’m replaceable."

You took a step back, but Azriel’s hand shot out, catching yours in desperation. “Y/N, you don’t understand—you can’t do this. Please don’t leave me,” he pleaded, his voice broken, his face twisted with regret.

Seeing him on his knees, begging—it made you feel sick.

You pulled your hand away, standing tall as the green tendrils swirled and coiled around you, making you seem larger than life. "I can, because you left me to die the moment you chose Elain over me. You made your bed, Azriel—now lie in it. Don’t bother looking for me, because if you do, I’ll do everything in my power to destroy you."

With those final words, you turned and walked out, leaving behind your family, your home, and every happy memory you once held dear. All that was left was anger and a thirst for vengeance.

A/N: I do hope you guys enjoyed! It may not be the best after a long time away, but I figured it was a great way to finally make my comeback after so long!

[munsons-hellfire]

Lost Part 1 | Cassian

SUMMARY: You were the princess of the Spring Court. But you no longer wanted to follow behind your brother. When Feyre decides to leave, she takes you and Lucien. But with the discovery of your mate and a war on its way you start to feel so lost.

PAIRINGS: Cassian x Tamlin!Sister!Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of abuse, mfw, part 1, I might have missed something but I don't think this really has a lot of warning in this part. Enjoy!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So I ended up turning this into a few parts. There are a few points I want to touch and I don't think it would've been a good idea to do one whole part. If you wish to be added to the tag list for this please let me know down in the comments. The sumary will most likely stay the same I'm not sure yet.

WORD COUNT: 2.0K

It felt like forever. The torture you faced under your bother’s ruleing. It wasn’t protection as he liked to call it. It was a prison, Tamlin had taken over after your father had been killed. You hadn’t been able to shed a tear when it happened, you always assumed that you weren’t meant to be in the Spring Court. When Feyre arrived as a human, you knew she was your chance for an escape.

So when she took the opportune moment to leave, you followed right behind her. Currently you didn’t understand how you had found yourself in this situation. You, Feyre, and Lucien had been on the run from the Spring Court. Little cuts littered your chest, arms, neck, and face. It was so cold, you didn’t know if you could hold on any longer. One of Lucien’s brothers was on top of you, holding you against the ice.

He lifts your head up and slams it down into the ice hard. Stars are dancing around your eyes, as you struggle to keep the blade from going into your throat. Your hand was on the blade, blood dripping onto your neck. A whimper escaped your lips as he stared down at you with a malevolent smile.

“You make such pretty sounds, I wonder what else I could get out of you.” He whispered, his tongue licking up the side of your chin all the way to your pointed ear.

You tried to push the male of you but it was no use. He was far stronger than you, and right now you were too weak. You couldn’t access your power considering you were drained. There were plants all around you even in the Winter Court but that was the last thing on your mind. It also didn’t help that you had never learned to fight. Tamlin had thought it was best you learn how to be a housemaid, how to be a mother, how to take care of your future husband.

Whatever the case may be you learned everything except how to fight and how to use your powers in a situation like this, it was biting you in the ass. Where Tamlin could shape-shift, you could manipulate the plants around you. But your brother didn’t know that, you knew better than to tell him your secret. Just before he could do further damage to you another male flew into him knocking him to the ice.

You turned to your side, a wince leaving your lips as you watched that same male throw a punch into his face. He continued to do so, he hadn’t been able to stop until someone had pulled him off Lucien’s brother. He wasn’t dead, you knew that he was knocked out cold. Your breath was shallow, as the male turned towards you red siphons glistening in the darkness of the night. He was leaning over you, hazel eyes searching you.

He gently picked you up, resting your head to his chest while he cradled the rest of your body. You stared up at him, when he looked back down at you, it snapped. Just before you closed your eyes you felt the gold thread tied around your heart. The mating bond had snapped, you were tied to the male that had just saved you. Now that you were safe you could close your eyes and that’s exactly what you did.

☾

Rhysand stood next to his brother as Madja worked on you. Cassian had his arms crossed over his chest, he was leaning against the door. The male was trying his hardest not to hover over Madja while she worked on his mate. But it was excruciating not to be next to you to hold your hand while she healed you.

“Are you positive?” Rhysand asked again, finally looking over at his brother. Feyre was at the end of the hallway, with Azriel as well. Lucien was also there but Cassian didn’t care much for him, his brother was responsible for the injuries to his mate. He wanted to kill him so they were standing guard in front of Lucien.

“Yes. The Princess of the Spring Court is my mate. I know she felt it too.” Cassian explained again, saying the same thing he’d consistently said when they had arrived back home. Cassian paused, staring briefly at his brother. “Do you really think she has powers?”

“Feyre believed it, and I know what I saw when we were under the mountain. Tamlin didn’t see it but Amarantha did. She protected herself in a cocoon of vines. Whatever she can do, she’s more powerful than she believes herself to be.”

Cassian had heard mentions of the story about how you’d protected yourself to avoid the affliction of pain at the wrath of Amarantha. She loved your older brother, but she hated you. So she’d made your torture just as cruel and wicked as Feyre had gone through. She even locked you up with Feyre, keeping you distanced from the only family you’d ever known. Tamlin. Lucien.

Rhys had told Cass that he had done everything in his power to keep you safe. But when that happened, everything changed. He knew eventually you’d be in his court. Tamlin would destroy you, and it looks like he’d already done just that. Finally Rhys looked back at Cassian again.

“We need to keep her safe.”

“She’s my mate, I won’t let her go back to that bastard of a brother. She’s safe here.” Cassian stated calmly. He caught Rhys looking down the hall to Feyre who gave a nod.

“Then you both need to accept the bond officially, Tamlin will demand her back. And if it isn’t accepted we have no choice but to hand her back over.”

“I’ll discuss it with her when she’s awake. Until then I can’t do much.”

Rhys gave a nod of his head as Madja walked up to them. “She is healed, though she might be out for a few days. Everything was drained, powers included. She needs time to rest.” Madja explained.

“Thank you.” Cassian said, stepping past the healer and walking into the room. He grabbed a chair and set it next to your bed. Then he reached for your hand, holding it in his. Cassian would wait days for you to wake up, as long as you came back to him.

☾

You held onto that thread when you thought you might die. Slowly you blinked open your eyes, a groan escaped your lips. You looked around the room noticing that you weren’t in the Spring Court. Then the memories of what had happened came flashing back into your mind. Panic started to rush through your body, however a hand gave you a comforting squeeze. You turned your head to see the male that had saved you holding onto it.

Just like you remembered he had red siphons on his body. Seven of them to be exact. His black hair was shoulder length, some of it was tied back in a small bun. He looked sexy with his hair that way. A smirk covered his lips, he must have seen what you were thinking was plastered on your face. His golden-brown skin made him look just as handsome. You could see some tattoos peaking through his shirt.

It was a gray shirt and was fitted perfectly to his upper body. You wondered what everything looked like underneath his clothes. Your mind started to drift, thinking of what he’d feel like against you, naked. His pulling of the chair brought you out of your thoughts, you decided to pull yourself up slightly so you could lean against the headboard. You felt the golden string that connected you to him. It was such a pain to not be closer to him. You needed him closer.

“Can you hold me?” Your voice was soft as you asked the question. He stared at you, the confusion was there only for a moment before it switched to understanding. You watched as the male stood from the chair, removed his boats and climbed into your bed. He leaned you forward gently, sitting behind you.

When he settled down into the bed, he pulled you towards his chest. You had noticed that somewhere in between him joining you on the bed he'd taken off his shirt so you could feel his warmth. You rested your head back on his chest, and closed your eyes feeling the bond shine brightly at the touch.

“I’m Cassian.” He whispered in your ear after a few moments of silence.

“Y/N.” You paused, pulling his large hand into yours and entangling your fingers together. You didn’t understand how you’d gotten so lucky to be blessed with a mate provided by the Mother. “So you really are my mate?”

You questioned finally. Maybe this was all a dream, and you’d wake back up in the Spring Court. You didn’t want that though, you’d known you had finally gotten away from your brother's temper and you couldn’t go back to it. Things had gotten worse for you when you’d all returned from under the mountain.

“I am.” Cassian’s words were so comforting as he said them.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get a mate. I… Tam said I’d never experience this. That I’d be marrying off to someone who would never be my mate.” You felt your mate tighten his grip around your waist, his jealousy was evident but you didn’t mind it. Oddly enough it felt comforting, you’d been missing something like that for a long time.

Cassian clenched his jaw at the mere mention of what your brother had in store for you when the time was right. He nudged his nose into your hair. “I can assure you mate, that’ll never happen. I will not allow your brother to take you away from me.”

“But Tam, he’ll try to get me back. I am the princess of the Spring Court after all. He’ll try to call a meeting, to call for a battle against this court.” The worry was evident in your voice as you spoke the words that Rhys had mentioned a few days ago.

“If we accept the mating bond, your brother can not do anything about it. We can accept it then see a Priestess.”

You wanted to reject the idea of accepting the bond so quickly, but you knew that was a lie. Cassian was your mate, and you were his. This had to be done, and it had to happen now. A war loomed over your heads because of your brother. He’d chosen the wrong side and you wouldn’t stand by anymore. Not with what you could do.

“Let’s do it.” You spoke finally. “I need a day, and we need somewhere where it can be just the two of us. When we come back we’ll see a Priestess.”

“I have a place in mind for privacy.” Cassian said, a smirk on his lips. “I can give you a day as well. But after that you’re mine forever, princess.” You only gave a nod and closed your eyes leaning further into Cassian’s chest. It wasn’t until you were finally asleep, breathing evenly that Cassian called to Rhys in his mind.

“How is she?” It was the first question he had asked when the conversation started.

“She’s fine.” Cassian paused, he glanced down at his mate. “She wants to accept the bond.”

“Good. That’s excellent news brother. I think we could all use that right now.”

“We’re gonna head to the cabin for a few days, then we’ll see a Priestess when we come back.”

“Sounds like a plan. When you both come back we’ll discuss what to do in case Tamlin does try to do something. I want to help her learn her powers if she’ll let me.”

“I think she’d be more than willing to learn. I think it would be great to start training with her as well even if we don’t get far into it.”

“Good idea, brother. Both of you get some rest. I’ll let Feyre know she’s doing better.”

With those words Cassian felt his High Lord leave his mind. When Cassian looked back down at you he noticed that you were asleep. The fae lights in the room dimmed down allowing only the moonlight into the room. Cassian held onto you tightly as you slept on top of his form. This wasn’t the best of circumstances, how he found you. But he was so glad that he’d found you when you needed him most.

[thelov3lybookworm]

What did you say?

Summary: He needs to stop saying thank you.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1047

Warnings: none, unless you can say tooth rotting fluff and domestic cass x reader counts?

A/n: this is just adorable i loved writing this so much🥹🥹🥹

cassian is just so pookie and i love him sm 😭 someone get me a cassian please as a birthday git 😭

anyways, ENJOY🥹

(p.s: this is like the one fic i didnt discuss with berry my love becos i changed the plan for cass's fic like 5 days before posting and wrote this thang in basically a few hours lol i forgot to yap my bad sorry 😔)

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Being a five hundred year old fae, not many thing’s excited Y/n. But there were also a lot of things that did excite Y/n, and one of them was watching her husband fumble around trying to make her smile.

That morning, Y/n had woken up with a raging headache, the pounding in her head beating her brain like a wardrum. Add to the mix her hormones were all over the place at not finding herself waking up in the comforting embrace of her giant teddy bear.

She had been in a pissy mood all morning when Cassian returned home after his training session with the valkyries that lasted longer than usual.

Y/n had been glaring down at her plate of fried eggs that were not as runny as she liked, having lost touch with cooking them for herself because Cassian insisted on making her breakfast everyday when he walked in through the door to their marital home.

Of course, he did not realise that she was in a very bad mood and tried to joke around, trying to get her spirits to lift as usually that seemed to work.

"Looks like someone woke on the wrong side of the bed today, huh?"

Y/n turned sharply to glare at her husband who did not even have the decency to apologise for not being there for her when she woke with the headache that still refused to leave before making fun of her. The fucking audacity.

She had only glared at him for a long moment before turning and leaving to their bedroom, but that moment was enough for Cassian to catch onto the fact that she was mad mad.

It also allowed Y/n a glimpse of panic flashing in his eyes, for which she had felt guilty but she knew she needed time to calm down before talking to him.

And now, it was evening, and the puppy eyes Cassian watched Y/n with were making her heart melt.

How could someone be this adorable?

He’d been at it the whole day. Bringing her her favourite pastries from a nearby bakery, running her a hot bath and slipping a note into the bedroom from under the door, making her dinner. When she had come down after a relaxing bath, he had even offered her a back massage.

His voice had been so light, but she heard the softness, the caution in it.

And Y/n had almost agreed to that massage that sounded so heavenly, but watching her husband be sad over her behaviour that morning ate her alive, and agreeing to let him cater to all her wants without realising that she was not mad at him felt like she was using him.

It had almost been an hour since he had offered, and since they’d had dinner and moved to the living room. She had tried to make conversation with him, but he seemed lost in his own mind, offering her short responses before his eyes turned distant again.

Y/n did not need that bond between her and her husband to know that he was trying to figure out what he’d done wrong.

"Cass?"

He blinked, then looked away from her, his ears darkening before he met her gaze again. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare."

Y/n raised a brow. "And so what if you did?" his brows furrowed, so Y/n hastened to add in case he thought she was still mad. "I’m your wife, your mate. You can look however much you want."

"I… yeah."

Y/n sighed, then stood from the couch and walked over to the oversized armchair adjacent to the fireplace that Cassian occupied and settled down in his lap, trying to focus on formulating a coherent sentence and not on the way his warm hands immediately wrapped around her waist.

He watched her quietly, his eyes slightly wide.

Though those beautiful eyes fluttered shut when Y/n leaned in and kissed him.

It was not a full on kiss, if she had to be honest. It was just a tiny peck, even that faint brush of their lips sending pleasant warmth shooting through her veins.

"Thank you-" Y/n paused, watching her husband blurt out the two words with her brows tugging together.

"What- what did you say?"

He blinked, blood climbing up his neck. "I… thank you?"

Y/n could not help it anymore. She threw her head back and laughed, unable to control the shaking of her body.

"Cass, are you thanking me for kissing you?"

"Yeah? You were mad at me-"

"I wasn’t."

He blinked again, then leaned back in the armchair. "What do you mean- why were you upset in the morning then?"

Y/n sighed, dropping her head into the junction between his shoulder and neck. "I had a raging headache when I woke up, and then I wanted to cuddle with you but you were gone. I was just upset at that."

He exhaled, raising his hands to run through Y/n’s unbound hair. "I’m sorry love, I had to go. You know the blood rite is coming soon, and a lot more priestesses and illyrian women want to partake this year. Az’s been running himself ragged, and Gwyn’s been so worried for him."

Y/n pulled back to meet his eyes. "Don’t apologise for being you, Cass. I know you love to help and train, and I am not mad when I am blessed with the most amazing husband in all of prythian."

Cassian’s eyes turned glassy at that, and he softly kissed her forehead.

"Thank you-"

Y/n groaned, standing up again.

"I swear to the mother if you say that one more time I’m going to bite you."

HIs expression morphed into a serious one, smile fading, and Y/n was once again reminded of his position in the night court. He looked more like his scheming general self that her sweet, adorable husband who pouted everytime Y/n did not give him five more minutes of cuddles.

"Y/n… thank you."

Y/n burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter as she watched him leap out of his preferred seat and bolted up the stairs to their bedroom.

"Oh you cunning ass!"

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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Cassian Taglist: @moonlwghts @samslittlespoon @nickishadow139

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our Girl – Part 9

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader

Summary: You awaken after being rescued by Azriel and Cassian.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: Sliiiiight smut suggestions. Funeral/character death

AN: A few time jumps in this second last part to the series folks, hold on tight!

<<< Part 8

You heard sharp breaths leave their noses as you addressed them, each of them turning rigid. 

My mates. They had waited years for those words to fall from your lips so freely. 

Cassian groaned as he lifted himself on strong fists, Azriel already shuffling as they flanked you on either side, wings crammed into your bed, careful not to crush you. 

You offered one arm to each of them, your palms pressed into their too-big hands. Azriel blinked away the tears that stung at his eyes, raising your grazed knuckles and kissing at the sores and scars - a jarring reminder of what you had awoken from. 

Cassian was not one to miss out, and he slipped a muscled arm behind your neck, grasping at Azriel’s shoulder as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

You shuddered a breath, your insides warmed by the affection infiltrating the bond, relishing that feeling of home, of belonging. 

“You are both well? Healed?” you rhasped, your voice barely there. Azriel frowned, immediately reaching for a glass of water and bringing it to your lips. 

“Yes, sweets, we’re alright,” Cassian used a knuckle to brush away the stray drop of water that rolled down your chin. “How is your pain?”

You meant to answer, but Azriel replaced the glass of water with something cold and metallic. Flicking your eyes from the thermometer now pressed against your tongue, it was instinct to scowl up at the Shadowsinger. 

“Really?” you muttered through a full mouth. 

Hazel eyes narrowed slightly as he carefully traced that thin red line. “You’re fighting an infection, love.”

A gentle pull on your chin forced your focus back to Cassian, his eyes warmed with humour at the exchange between his mates. You supposed it was nice, to slip into a reaction so natural, something that had been amiss for years. 

“Your pain?” he pressed.

You shrugged as Azriel gently pulled the thermometer away, shaking it once, twice. Fatigue was heavy on your bones, and your head was throbbing, likely from that infection they mentioned. But the wound at your heart was a dull ache, and you had healed well all things considered. Pealing back the covers, you lifted your nightgown, eying the scar that now ran beside your left breast. 

You were there in an instant, the clang of that awful sword and Beron’s roar in your ears, impending death looming as you remembered the pure dread that consumed you for days. 

You stiffened, eyes turning distant as your mouth quivered with an instant need to cry out. 

Azriel thumbed your lip, cooing softly. “It’s alright my love, you are safe now. You’re ok.”

You drew a long, shaking breath. There would be along road ahead to recover as Beron’s prisoner, that much was clear. 

“Where is he?” you asked with a small voice. 

“Imprisoned, just as you asked.” Cassian's reply was soft as he gently played with a lock of your limp hair.

“And Lucien is…?”

Your mates met each other’s eyes, before your hands were back in theirs, held tightly. 

“I’m sorry my love,” Azriel whispered. Leaning closer, he nudged the bridge of his nose to your crown, pressing closer with comfort.

You swallowed, nodding as tears rolled down your cheeks. That poor male – loyal and kind and better than most. Your heart ached for Feyre and Tamlin. 

“The others?”

“Everyone is safe and well. Beron’s army yielded when he was dragged from the dungeon, and the Illyrians have returned to the camps. Eris is in the process of assuming his role as High Lord – Beron was forced to abdicate by his own council.”

“Tamlin stayed to help mend the damage from the battle. He’s had help from a group of aides and healers,” Cassian added with a smile. 

The smile you forced was barely there, only the corners of your lips turning as your eyes still hung heavy. Your friends, the volunteers - of course they had come. And Tamlin, fighting alongside Illyrians? It was an overwhelming thought. 

There was so much to do, so much to say. But fatigue weighed heavy on your mind and body alike, even your power was impossible to drag up from within. Grieving, celebrating, helping those to heal – it would all have to wait. 

And then there were your mates – confessions and pleas of honesty begging to be unravelled in a mess of emotions you did not yet understand.

Without notice, tears began spilling from your cheeks, rolling down your chin in a the trail down to your chest. 

“You found me,” you whispered hoarsely.

Azriel was wiping at your chin, and Cassian’s lips were at your crown as he replied. “And you fought for us.”

“I was so scared,” you whispered again, your voice wobbling with a half-sob. 

“So were we,” Azriel added softly. 

You blinked between them, a wrangled laugh escaping. It was exhausting, the instant switch between fear, then relief, then grief, then relief again. 

“I think I’m going mad,” you admitted, wiping at your face while you relished in the safety of having your mates by your side. 

“That’s understandable, love,” Azriel smiled softly, eyeing you closely, reading each micro expression with understanding. 

“Besides,” Cassian smirked. “You already were half-mad.”

Another laugh huffed through your chest, heavy and thick with illness. Cassian was grinning, before pecking at your knuckles with affection. The soft thud of Azriel’s heart fastened, and you could sense his joy through the bond as he watched you two. 

Lashes fluttered as sleep tugged at you, but you were reluctant to give in. Time was sacred, you knew that now. 

Azriel’s eyes caught Cassian’s with a quick nod, and it was the later who stood to fetch a vial, the popping of a cork pricking your ears.

Azriel forced your chin to him. “Something Madja has prepared to help with the fever.” There was that sternness in his eyes, a familiar one that he used when anticipating stubbornness. Given you record in refusing medicine, you couldn't blame him. But you wouldn't fight them today – you couldn't if you wanted to. 

The medicine was bitter, but you drank it willingly as Cassian tipped the glass at your lips with gentle hand at the back of your head, Azriel’s watchful eyes tracking each swallow and ensuring the bottle was emptied. 

You rolled your eyes at his keen eye, before settling back into your pillows. 

“I saw that.”

Eyes falling closed thanks to the quick working effects of the medicine, you couldn’t hide your smirk was you wordlessly muttered ‘overbearing mother hens’ through the bond. You knew it worked from Cassian’s snort from the other side of the room, and Azriel’s glow of pride at your use of the bond, despite the message cast through it.

Callused fingers stroked your hair before your pillows were being moved from under you. You blinked up at Cassian as he towered over, helping you recline further. “Go to sleep sweetheart, we’ll be hear when you wake up.” 

It was lulling to hear, and you let your eyes close again, grateful for the comfort of the bed and grateful for your mates – that each of you had made it out alive. 

As sleep almost pulled you under, your eyes fluttered open, and you sat up with rational quickness. “Where even are we?”

Your mates chuckled, Azriel pressed you back into the bed as he shook his head. “Still in Autumn love, but you’re safe.”

“That much I know” you muttered drowsily, sarcasm lacing through as you danced with sleep. 

“Do you just?”

You yawned, your words slow as you sighed. “I know I’m safe with you.”

You were already asleep before the wave of adoration careening through the bond could reach you. 

————

Eris’s voice cut through the oak door, greeting you into the room. 

Auburn locks shined in the fire-lit room as Eris stood on a low stool, facing an ornate mirror as tailors worked at his suit. It was a fine thing – orange and yellows embroidered with tasteful gold leafs. One tailor worked on his sleeve, while the other was busy bent at the cuff of his pants. 

“You’ll have to excuse me, Y/N. Just some finishing touches before tomorrow’s coronation. Perhaps we might be excused?” 

The tailors stepped away then, taking their supplies with them as they bowed to their future High Lord. 

Eris stepped down, stopping a few steps shy from you, fiery eyes casting you up and down. 

Originally, that kind of look would have beckoned your own power together within, threatening to zap with petty distaste. But without Beron, Eris was revealed as his true self. Cunning, sure, but also generous, caring, and much smarter than he had ever let on. 

“You look well,” he offered. 

“Because I’m not cloaked like a pumpkin,” you nodded to his flashy suite. 

Eris feigned offence with a hand to his chest. “You don't like my coronation suit?”

You snorted, and Eris grinned back. You were toying with each other as you always had, but now without the need for blood. 

“It’s lovely, actually. It screams of wealth, but has tasteful detail. Whoever designed it must know you well.”

“If I didn't know any better Y/N, I’d take that as a compliment.”

You pulled your lips in a sideways smile, eyebrows raised. “You did save my life.”

Eris stoped, his smile fading as his eyes blinked down just once. “I also might have damned you.”

You shook your head. “That wasn't your fault.”

A beat of silence.

“Y/N, I’m sorry my fath–"

You shook your head, cutting him off. “Eris, don’t. That is not for you to apologise for.”

Eris’s lips pulled into a thin line, guilt and grief weighing heavy on the male, the bags under his eyes yet deeper than you had ever seen. 

Composing himself, he nodded to a settee facing the the sprawling autumn forest, magnificent reds, yellows and greens muted by night. 

You moved to join him, eyes dancing at the tree tops. “Tomorrow will be…” you started. 

“A big day,” he finished, leaning his elbows on his knees. 

Eris wasn’t wrong. Here at the castle would be Lucien’s memorial, followed by Eris’s coronation. And on the other side of the court, Beron’s execution - all carefully arranged on the same day. It was a distraction of Beron’s dark reign, an insult to all that he had tried to conquer, and a honour to Lucien to celebrate life and moving forward. Beron would die alone, and Lucien’s legacy would be celebrated amongst many.

“Will Serafina be there?” 

He nodded, rubbing his hands together with tension. “Yes, she couldn't stand the thought of being there when my father…” 

Eris trailed off, but you nodded anyway. “I wish I could say the same for Helion. He’s overseeing the…event.” My father’s execution - he couldn't bring himself to say.

You bit your lip, nodded slowly. Azriel and Cassian had asked which events you wished to attend, perhaps all three, or none at all. You felt a strong need to be at the memorial and coronation, but had little interest in seeing Beron die, no matter what he had done to harm you an your mates. The males had agreed to accompany you, but you felt the urge they resisted to witness Beron’s death. It seemed Helion had felt the same, especially with his involvement in seeing securing Beron’s fate. You couldn't blame him, for all the years he had held his mate enslaved to his schemes.

“Helion will miss your ceremony, then?”

Eris lifted tired eyes to you. “I don't think he’ll ever forgive me for the life my mother was forced to live.”

“You were born into this, Eris, your own life was on the line. You were his child.”

“I’ve been fully grown for centuries now, Y/N. If I had been braver, my mother wouldn’t have had to suffer for the centuries she did. And Lucien…,” Eris choked at the name of his brother, shoulders stiffening before jerking with sobs. 

You watched with sorrow, moving gently to place a hand at his back, warmth spreading immediately at your palm. 

“They despise me, all of them. Helion, Feyre, Tamlin, Rhys, perhaps even my own mother. They see me for the coward I am.”

You cleared your throat, choosing your words carefully. “The beginning of your reign as High Lord will be an trialling time for you, I won’t deny that. But there were so many who could have stopped Beron, and so many that that didn’t. It wasn't your burden to bear alone.” 

Eris blinked, a shaken breath escaping him as he gained some control. “I suppose I will always be the High Lord that was too late.”

You swallowed, nodding. “Perhaps. But you will also be the High Lord who makes sure to leave a better legacy, to never leave things too late again.”

Eris ran curious brown eyes down your frame – so unfamiliar with the comfort you had just provided. 

“Azriel and Cassian are couldren-blessed to have someone like you.” 

You stiffened then. “I don't suppose they have me, Eris.”

Eris blinked, before his faced dropped. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I did not mean to offend.”

You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. “It’s ok, Eris. You are learning.” 

He ran bony fingers through his cropped auburn locks. “I only meant to convey that I admire you.”

You shrugged. “I am quite incredible.”

Eris’s laugh was raspy with relief. There was a quiet moment between you, the only sound the crackle of the fireplace. 

“Will you be there, tomorrow?” Eris did nothing to hide the hope in his eyes. 

You placed a gentle hand over his. “I’ll be one of many. Rhys and Feyre will be there too.”

“They’re coming?”

“I’m not sure people hold as much resentment to you as you do yourself, Eris. I think most just want to look forward, to a better world.”

Eris swallowed then, curbing the lump in his throat that threatened again. “Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate your kindness.”

You rose then, smoothing your skirts. “All the best for tomorrow, Eris. At the very least, you’ll look dashing.”

Eris found his old self then, extending his arms to admire the suite once more. “That I will,” he grinned, before reaching for your hand, and placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“Should you feel the need to reject two Illyrians for one handsome High Lord,” he joked with a flash of teeth. 

You snatched your hand back, eyes rolling with a smirk. “Don’t ever let Azriel or Cassian hear you joke like that,” you threw over your shoulder, sealing Eris’s chuckle and closing the door behind you.

————

Lucien’s memorial was devastatingly beautiful. 

Without a body, there was no coffin, cremation or grave. Instead, a bronzed statue was erected in the gardens of the Autumn castle, and rows of fae from all courts gathered to watch it be raised. 

It was Eris who spoke from the podium, Serafina’s weeps heard by all as she clung to Hellion who kept a strong arm around his mate. 

“I want to thank you all for coming here today to honour the life of my youngest bother, Lucien. He was taken from us in a selfish and cowardly act by my father, used as a sacrifice to hone evil. A crime that contradicts my brother’s very essence, for with every fibre of his being, Lucien was good.” 

“Lucien was kinder than most, a generous, forgiving male who uplifted others and sought good for the world. I regret to have dismissed him for so long, and that I may never tell him just how much I admired his courage. As High Lord of this court, I will ensure that his legacy continues, that he lives forever in bronze in these gardens, but also as a celebrated hero and vital part of the Autumn dynasty.”

“To properly commemorate his life, I invite someone who was a truer brother to Lucien, more than I ever was.” 

Eris stepped from the podium, placing a sure hand on Tamlin’s shoulder before moving to the queues. 

You could see the tremor in your friends hands as he placed his papers down, fingers gripping to the podium to steady himself. Pressing your lips tightly, you knew the wave of emotion Tamlin would need to push through to address all of these people, and tribute Lucien in honour. Your heart ached for him further.

Feyre’s sniffing pricked your ears from beside you where Rhys held her, and as you dabbed a few of your own stray tears, a wave of reassurance was sent from your mates who sat a few rows back, catching the movement. 

“Lucien was more than an honourable male.” Tamlin began, his voice strong, commanding of the crowd. “He understood what it was to be truly loyal, to see the good amongst the bad, to make others feel at home when he didn't have one of his own.” 

“He taught me compassion, sensibility, gratitude and love. He was a better leader than I could ever hope to be, without even trying.”

Tears brimmed your eyes, and you felt an overwhelming amount of pride for Tamlin as he cast those sharp green eyes across the crowd. 

“He was a loving son and friend,” he said with a nod to Serafina. “And while he endured more hardship than any of us deserve, his wit and humour prevailed.”

A few chuckles from the crowd and murmurs of agreement. A tattooed hand found yours then, and Feyre squeezed you as you smiled at each other through tears. 

“Many might not know that Lucien used that wit to free us of Amarantha’s reign. It was his keen eye to observe those around him, that brilliant mind and sincere care for others that lead Feyre to my court, and to eventually break the curse. He helped us every step of the way, risking his life countless times under the mountain, because he understood what was at stake, and what was the greater good.”

Tamlin had paused, taking a shaky breath. “Lucien was the brother I never deserved, and I will never stop loving him.” 

Tear stained tracks shone on Tamlin’s cheeks.

“It is our duty to ensure he has not died in vain, to learn from his legacy of acceptance, patience and kindness. If each of us hone just a fraction of the honour that he spread so freely, Prythian will be stronger for it.” 

“And when your children ask to hear the heroic tales of friends and foes alike, tell them of Lucien – the male with no home, that lead with his heart instead.” 

When Tamlin returned to his seat as Serafina stood to reveal the statue beneath the cloth. Hundreds of fae cried and cheered, and you reached for Tamlin’s hand, holding him tightly with your head on his shoulder, grieving and celebrating with your truest friend. 

————

1 week later

“Where have you bought me, my love?”

Azriel emerged from the thick of the Autumn forest, dried leaves crunching beneath his boots. 

“A little clearing I discovered on a walk,” you smiled from where you waited patiently, hands behind your back. The picnic was set with bread, cheese and berries, and you offered a glass of wine to your mate as he approached. 

He took it with a raised brow, leaning down to kiss your cheek before taking a sip. 

“You are well?” he asked, noting the blush in your cheeks, sending relief through the bond that colour had at last returned to your face. 

“I am,” you smiled broadly.

Before you could ask how Azriel was, the beat of Cassian’s wings sounded, and leaves danced in a gust of wind as he landed on one strong knee. 

“Well isn't this romantic,” he grinned as he stood, stalking over to pick you up, twirling as he squeezed you tight.

While Cassian had business to attend to back in Illyria, both of the males had been keeping their distance while you rested at the Autumn castle. They checked in of course, and Azriel had winnowed back a few times to see you - but they were respectful of your space, waiting for your direction, feeling for your comfort levels along the way. 

Cassian approached Azriel then, a strong hand finding his chiselled jaw as he kissed his mate deeply. 

Immediately flustered, you busied yourself by pouring Cassian a glass of wine as overwhelming desire and longing for each other coursed through the bond after days spent apart. You forced your eyes elsewhere - you hadn't kissed either of them yet, certainly not like that. 

They moved to join you on the blanket you had set, Cassian taking his wine with a thank you and plopping a few berries in the each of your glasses. 

“I’ve missed you both,” you said with a shy smile. It was true, having them both here, it eased the strain of your heart that lingered at the distance. It also revealed desires you hadn't known were there. You wanted to bask in their presence, to hold them tight and never let them go. To tear your clothes of and press their naked skin to yours, feel the heat of them warm through you… Gods, this bond!

Azriel and Cassian shared a coy chuckle as they sensed your lust, and a scarred hand found your knee while Cassian lounged casually, wings sprawling. 

“We missed you too,” Azriel answered with a boyish smirk, before it turned sincere. “Thank you for bringing us together, my love.”

Cassian was already munching on the bread as he offered you a wedge of cheese, speaking with a full mouth. “What marks the occasion, princess?” 

You took the food, chewing thoughtfully before setting your glass down. Hazel eyes tracked your every move, Cassian’s on the clouds as casual hands were bought behind his head. 

“Well, I suppose I wanted to discuss us.”

You saw Cassian’s chest holt, before he sat up, waiting for you to continue. 

“I’m fully healed now, and I think it’s time I left Autumn.” 

Azriel was stiff. “Will you be coming back to Velaris?” he asked with forced softness. 

You swallowed once, twice. “No.”

Azriel took a deep breath before nodding slowly, Cassian’s smile fading into something sad, while affection still warmed those brown eyes. 

“We understand,” he offered, his large hand covering yours. 

“I suppose a better answer is, not yet,” you added, squeezing Cassian’s hand in yours. You felt their lick of excitement through the bond. 

“I love you both, I do. But I don't know where I want to live, where I want to call home. All I know is that I want to continue my mission, help provide aide for more courts. Beron’s death has created so many opportunities, the courts have never been so aligned. There is much work to do - and I will dedicate myself to it. This is my purpose.”

Azriel’s smile was genuine under the tears in his eyes. “I am so proud of you.”

You sent a wave of warmth down the bond. “Thank you, Az.”

Cassian was leaning on his knees now, facing the both of you. “Wherever you want to be, Y/N, we’ll be there too.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, no, I won't ask you to leave Velaris, to give up your roles in the Night Court.”

Your mates exchanged a look.

“We would, you know.” Azriel husk was just more than a whisper.

“We’d follow you anywhere,” Cassian added. 

You smiled, your eyes cast down as you fiddled with your hands in your lap. With a quick breath, you placed a hand on each of their thighs. 

“I don't want that, and neither do you. Please hear me when I say I love you both, and I’m learning to forgive you for what happened with Alvar. But I’m not ready to be so…”

“Mated?”

You smiled turned broken. “Yes, mated.”

Azriel had picked up your hand, toying with it before moving scarred fingers to intertwine with yours. “Wherever you want to be,” he repeated Cassian’s words. “We support you.”

You blinked the tears that threatened then, forcing that pinnacle question past your lips. “Would you wait?” For me, for us - you didn't add.

“Of course,” Cassian said instantly, frowning with slight insult. 

“Without a second thought.” Azriel added, his lips now brushing your knuckles.

It was true, honest love that surged through the bond then, from all three sides. 

You huffed with relief. “Then I will return to my life in Spring Court.”

“Perhaps we could visit?” Cassian asked.

You didn't need to think on the offer. “I would love that,” you beamed. “And I will travel often enough with my work – and will visit you too.”

Azriel let out a small whine of relief, and Cassian grinned, moving to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest. 

“We love you Y/N,” he murmured into your ear, planting a kiss to your neck. “We will make this work.”

You reached towards the Shadowsinger, pulling him towards you, relishing in the comfort of their arms wrapped tight around you. You were safe, they were safe. You were happy, they were happy. 

For the first time in years, you felt true happiness in all avenues of life. 

Cassian and Azriel were kissing above your head, the sound of their kiss igniting something in your bounds as you were pressed between them. That primal urge to consummate your mating bond churned within you, and you were suddenly flushed with desire, aware of how your own pupils dilated. 

Raising to your knees, your hands found a place on both of their chests as they broke away, eyeing you. 

You leaned towards Cassian, eyes flicking down to his still-wet lips swollen from Azriel’s kiss. Ever so gently, you lay a peck to his mouth. 

Cassian whimpered as you pulled away, his eyes fluttering open and stalking you as you moved to Azriel and did the same. 

Wings twitched from behind the Shadowsingers head, and shadows instantly flooded around you.

Pulling away, you couldn't help the toying grin that pulled at your mouth. Azriel's chest heaved, and Cassian’s brows were pulled in desperation. 

“Please,” the later begged. “Do that again.”

Your heart lurched, your insides throbbing even more intensely than before. Gods, you wanted them. But you would have to be careful with how you would approach the bond while living on different sides of Prythian. 

“I’m conscious,” you breathed, taking a moment to regain composure. “I’m conscious not to enlighten the bond any further.”

Cassian growled, but Azriel threw him a quick glare. “You’re yet to seal the bond on your end.”

“I know,” you breathed, resisting every urge to ask your mates to eat the remaining berries from your bare hands and ride them into the sunset. “But I don't want to make things anymore difficult than they need to be. I have no interest in torturing you any further. Sex might complicate things, it can bind us further, making the distance that much harder to bare.”

Cassian groaned. “Please don't say harder.”

You and Azriel shared a chuckle as he strained in his pants. 

“It’s a kind thought, my love. And I think you’re right,” Azriel agreed with a stroke to your face, then a strong hand on Cassian’s shoulder that seemed to say compose yourself.

Cassian cleared his throat, and through gritted teeth said “We can wait.”

A wicked smile reached your eyes. “Are you sure about that?”

Cassian all but tackled you, nipping at your ear with a playful growl. “Don’t tease.”

You laughed freely then, his breath tickling your ear.

Azriel was still stiff where he sat. 

“Az,” you asked. “Will you be alright?”

Hazel eyes flicked down you in a way that made you shudder. “I just have on request.”

You smiled. “Yes?”

“Kiss me again.”

You were smiling as you lurched forward, strong arms catching you as you pressed your lips on his. 

You spent the rest of the afternoon in that clearing with your mates, kissing them, holding them, discussing the logistics of the next steps of your mateship, and falling back in love with the two males that always had your heart.

————

3 years later

The three years since you had rekindled your relationship with Azriel and Cassian had been the happiest of your life. 

Your mates would visit often, sometimes together, sometimes alone. And when your work called you to the Night Court or close by, you visited them in Velaris, spending time with your old family too. You relationships were healing amongst the Inner Circle, and you were glad to feel at home again while still returning to your life in Spring Court. 

You had worked furiously hard to bring your aide work across Prythian. Beron’s death saw a shift in response to sharing resources, and your vision of aide without borders gained traction. With hundreds of healers and the likes now working for your charity - your mission was funded and supported by all seven courts. 

The little foxes, you now called yourselves, in honour of Lucien Vanserra and his legacy of honour. Each court had specially built ‘dens’, where fae in need could seek help, and where aide was dispatched to support across all courts. 

It was incredibly hard work that took the years you gave yourself, with many sleepless nights, and sometimes longer periods spent away from your mates. But it was successful, the cogs of your strategies came to life. 

You were overwhelmingly proud, and fulfilled for the first time in your life. Happiness was a plentiful beacon around you, and you felt yourself healing every day.

You spent spare time learning to harness your magic. Seeking experts across the continent, you learned to hone that powerful current, understanding your limits, your emotions, when to yield and when to take. You learnt new ways of using it, lighting fires or fuelling pressing mills, hunting large supplies of fish when food was in need. In those years, you had learned to help others in ways you never new possible. It was as if you were finally coming to life. 

Your heart was full – you had taken control of your life once more, working in boundaries that helped you thrive. And it was with that full, healthy heart that you forgave your mates, little by little, day by day. 

————

Mor let out a high-pitched squeel, shaking as she read the golden card in her hand, envelope floating to the floor as she bounced from foot to foot. 

“What is it?” Feyre asked from her desk, the High Lady buried in paper work.

“They’ve called it!”

“Called what?” Feyre asked with wide eyes, bewildered at Mor’s reaction. 

Snatching the card from the giddy blond’s hand, Feyre read the sparkling, cursive writing. Tears instantly brimmed at Feyre’s eyes as she met Mor’s lovesick smile.

Finbark Eversgreen requests the honour of your attendance to celebrate the marriage of Y/N, Cassian and Azriel.

Saturday, 2nd week of the third season.

The ceremony will be held at the Southern Spring Lake at dusk.

“Rhys! Come quick!”

————

AN: Ahhhh I hope you liked this lead up to the finale!! It was a pleasure to write the abundance of healing going around for all these characters!! The next part will focus on the wedding - but I'm always keen to hear what else you guys might want to see too. All in all, I'm actually excited to wrap up Our Girl tbh. It's sitting at 50,000 words so far and has been a really big piece for me! So thanks for joining me along the way. If you want to join the tag list for the finale, or any of my other stuff, drop and comments and let me know which one :) Much love!!! Nic

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Coming Home Series Index

Summary: Azriel x Reader series. You’re Rhysand’s younger sister and the person who’s been in love with Azriel for, like, ever. After an entire century running away from your feelings for the Shadowsinger, and the sting of his rejection, you decide to finally return home to Velaris for Winter Solstice. You’re older, more mature — and still totally enamoured by him. Chaos is bound to ensue…

✨ - indicates smut.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six ✨

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen ✨

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen ✨

Bonus Chapter 1 - Starfall

Bonus Chapter 2 - Lucien’s Cottage ✨

Bonus Chapter 3 - In the Dead of Solstice Night ✨

[dee-writes-angst]

SUMMER (Chapter Four)

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY healing is a long journey that can't be summed up in just four simple seasons, but it seems with the help of a certain shadowsinger at your side, you've seemed to do it.

CONTENT WARNINGS mentions of nightmares, apologies, scared reader, comforting Azriel, Cassian POV, and mentions of wingspans ;)

AUTHORS NOTE the finale you've all been waiting for is finally here as promised! Thank you all so much for your support during this series, I am excited to be back and writing for you all again! Love you all and I hope you enjoy! <3

Summer arrives like a promise fulfilled, a canvas awash with vibrant hues of green and gold, as if nature herself has donned her finest attire. The air hums with the gentle whisper of transformation, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the promise of new beginnings on its warm breeze.

As the sun stretches its golden fingers across the land, casting long shadows that dance in its radiant glow, there's a palpable sense of rejuvenation in the air. It's as if each dawn heralds a new chapter, a chance to shed the burdens of the past and embrace the endless possibilities of the present.

In this season of abundance, life bursts forth with an exuberance that is both intoxicating and invigorating. The world awakens from its slumber, blossoming with a riot of colors as flowers unfurl their petals in joyful defiance of the lingering chill of winter. Leaves rustle in the gentle caress of the wind, their verdant whispers carrying tales of resilience and growth.

Amidst this symphony of nature's symphony, there is a sense of newfound strength coursing through every living thing. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the warmth of the sun infuses each day with a sense of possibility, igniting a fire within the soul that refuses to be extinguished.

In the heart of summer, time seems to slow, allowing moments to linger like the last rays of sunlight on a balmy evening. It's a season of exploration and adventure, where every day holds the promise of discovery and every sunset marks the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.

And as the days stretch languidly into twilight, there is a quiet resilience that takes root, a deep-seated belief in the power of new beginnings and the strength that comes from embracing change. For in the heart of summer, beneath the sweltering heat and the endless blue skies, lies the untold promise of tomorrow, waiting to be seized with both hands and forged into something beautiful.

(Mid Summer, Velaris)

The afternoon sun poured into the training ring, casting long shadows of the figures sparring lightly within it. Cassian was across from me, a patient yet mischievous grin on his face, as he handed me a training sword. “Ready to get your ass kicked, or are you going to make me work for it today?”

I smirked, feeling the flutter of my old spirit stirring within. “Dream on, Cassian.”

The clash of our swords sang through the air, a melody of metal that resonated with the pounding of my heart. Each strike, each parry, felt like shedding layers of fear that had cocooned me since losing my wings.

“Focus,” Cassian said, his voice a mix of sternness and encouragement. “Remember, it’s not just about strength. It’s about knowing your opponent.”

I nodded, gripping my own wooden sword a little tighter. As I lunged forward, Cassian parried easily, countering with a swift movement that I barely blocked in time. We moved in a rhythm, the clack of our swords punctuating each maneuver. My muscles remembered the dance, even if they ached from disuse. Cassian’s style was a flurry of motion, designed to overwhelm, but today he tempered his usual ferocity, giving me room to find my footing again. The physical exertion was grounding, pulling me further away from my mental ghosts.

Laughter and shouts from Mor, watching from the sidelines, filled the arena, her cheers a buoyant soundtrack to our dance of blades and as we paused for a break, Mor jogged over with a waterskin and a smirk. She threw an arm around my shoulders, squeezing tightly. “Look at you! You’re almost back to your old self,” she beamed, her pride evident.

The warmth from her compliment soaked through me, loosening some of the tightness still lingering in my chest. “Feels good to move like that again,” I admitted, allowing the truth of my words to wash over me. It did feel good—like claiming back pieces of my soul, piece by piece.

“You two look like you’re having fun,” she smiled, squeezing me close again as she handed me the waterskin. After I took a long drink, she shot me a sly glance. “Speaking of fun, have you noticed how Azriel can't seem to stay away from your side?”

Mor’s eyebrows wiggled as I coughed on the water, wiping my mouth as I tried to compose myself. “He’s just being supportive,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat up.

Cassian chuckled, leaning on his sword. “Oh, he’s being supportive, all right. Haven’t seen him this glued to someone since… well, ever.”

I rolled my eyes, but the seed of awareness began to sprout in my mind. Azriel had indeed been a constant presence, his quiet strength a comfort I hadn’t realized I’d leaned on so much.

“Do you think it might be a mating bond?” Mor asked casually, too casually, as she inspected her nails.

The question halted me, the weight of the implication settling in my stomach like a stone. The mating bond was sacred, profound—was I ready for something like that? The very thought made my heart race, not just with fear but with a blossoming hope I hadn’t acknowledged until now.

“Maybe he’s just being a good friend,” I countered, but my voice lacked conviction.

Cassian raised an eyebrow, giving me a knowing look. “When you know, you know,” he said simply. “And it looks like you’re starting to realize something there.”

We resumed training, but his words echoed in my mind with each strike and block. Azriel’s face appeared in my thoughts, his smiles, the gentle touch of his hands, the way his eyes lit up when he looked at me lately. My feelings for him, which I had shelved as mere gratitude or the simple need for companionship during recovery, seemed to be deepening into something richer, more profound.

As we finished and walked back towards the House of Wind, Mor looped her arm through mine. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once,” she whispered. “But don’t close your heart to the possibility of something beautiful. Azriel cares for you deeply, more than just as a friend or protector.”

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow that bathed the world in a soft, forgiving light. It felt symbolic, reflective of my own internal dawn. Maybe, just maybe, I was ready to consider that what lay between Azriel and me could be the kind of love that songs and tales were spun from. As fear and doubt receded, leaving room for this new, tender hope, I realized that my journey of healing was also leading me down a path of rediscovering my capacity to love—not just Azriel, but myself and this new life I was slowly, bravely building.

(Mid Summer, The River House)

That evening, the dinner with the Inner Circle was held at the sprawling, candlelit table in the River House. The atmosphere was thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses, a symphony of friendship and familial bonds. The windows were thrown open, allowing the crisp, cool air of Velaris to sweep through the room, mixing with the scent of jasmine and roasted meats.

As I entered the dining room, a subtle change in my demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by the group. Rhysand was the first to catch my eye, giving me a nod of approval and a warm, welcoming smile. Amren, ever observant, watched me with her piercing gaze, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips, acknowledging the shift in my spirits.

Azriel, standing slightly apart, offered me a soft, encouraging smile as I took my place next to him. His quiet strength bolstered my newfound resolve to engage more fully with those around me.

Dinner began with a lively discussion led by Feyre about a recent exhibition at the art gallery in the city. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she described the vibrant colors and revolutionary techniques of the new artists showcased. I listened, chiming in with my thoughts on the integration of night and day themes, which earned an approving laugh from Rhys.

As the meal continued, Cassian, true to form, began recounting one of his training escapades, embellishing the details to make his tale more dramatic. “And then, just as I was about to execute my perfectly planned maneuver, an Illyrian baby sneezed on me. Totally threw off my game!”

Laughter erupted around the table, and I found myself genuinely chuckling, the sound surprising even to me. “Only you, Cassian, could be outmaneuvered by a baby’s sneeze,” I teased, earning a round of applause and a mock bow from Cassian.

“See, she’s got jokes now! Our girl’s coming back to us,” Mor exclaimed, her face alight with joy. She reached over to squeeze my hand, her gesture warm and reassuring.

As plates were cleared and desserts were served, the conversation shifted to lighter, more personal stories. Feyre shared anecdotes about her latest painting misadventures, while Mor detailed her plans for the upcoming festival in the city. Each story, each shared laugh, felt like a stitch mending the frayed edges of my soul.

As the dinner party began to wind down in the warm, laughter-filled hall, a soft coo from the corner caught my attention. Nyx, cradled gently in Feyre’s arms, was awake and curiously peeking over her shoulder with wide, starry eyes. I felt my heart tug softly. It had been too long since I had held him, too long since I’d allowed myself to be part of these simpler, beautiful family moments.

Feyre caught my gaze and smiled, understanding immediately. “Someone wants to say hello,” she said softly, walking over with Nyx. His small hand reached out, and I couldn’t help but smile as his fingers grasped at the air between us.

“May I?” I asked, my voice a whisper of excitement mixed with a hint of uncertainty.

“Of course,” Feyre replied, carefully transferring Nyx into my arms. The baby settled against me with ease, a soft sigh escaping him as if he found comfort in my embrace. His tiny hand reached up, touching my cheek gently, an innocent gesture that felt like a reassurance of missed affection. It was as if he was saying he remembered me, that he too had felt the absence of our connection.

The moment wasn’t lost on Azriel, who watched from a short distance. His shadows flickered subtly around him, a telltale sign of his emotions stirring beneath that calm exterior. Since the conversation with Cassian and Mor earlier today, every glance, every small interaction with him seemed charged with a new, silent tension. My newly admitted feelings for him amplified each shared look, adding weight to the air between us.

As I rocked Nyx gently, my thoughts drifted to Azriel again. His presence at my side had become a constant, his support unwavering. The depth of my affection for him had crept up silently, weaving itself into the fabric of my daily life until it was indistinguishable from my other truths. I found myself stealing glances at him, each look a quiet confession of the feelings I was only beginning to allow myself to acknowledge.

Azriel eventually made his way over, his gaze softening as he looked at Nyx in my arms. “He’s missed you,” Azriel murmured, his voice barely audible over the low hum of conversation around us.

I met his eyes, feeling a flush of warmth at the intimacy of the moment. “I’ve missed him, too. Missed all of this,” I admitted, my voice thick with emotion. The way Azriel looked at me then, with such warmth and depth, made my heart skip a beat.

“Looks good on you,” he said after a pause, nodding towards Nyx.

The comment, simple and offhand, thrummed with unspoken meanings. It was a nudge against the boundaries we had maintained, a gentle probing into the new spaces of my heart that had begun to open to him.

As I handed Nyx back to Feyre, I caught Azriel’s arm gently. “Stay for a moment?” I asked, my voice hopeful, laden with the weight of all the things I hadn’t yet said.

He nodded, his usual reserve melting away for a moment as he stayed by my side, his presence a silent promise of things perhaps soon to be explored. We both knew something unspoken was shifting between us, and while neither of us was ready to dive into those waters just yet, acknowledging it—even in silence—felt like the first step toward a new horizon.

(Mid Summer, The House of Wind)

The following week, Feyre, Mor, Nesta, and I revived our "book club"—a ruse for nights filled with wine, wild discussions about our latest reads, and shared secrets under the cloak of night. As I sat curled up on a plush couch, a glass of wine in hand, surrounded by these incredible women, a profound sense of belonging enveloped me. Here, in these moments, I was safe to just be; to heal, to laugh, to grow.

The cozy nook tucked away in the House of Wind had become our sanctuary, a place where the Inner Circle’s book club convened to discuss literature, life, and everything in between. Tonight, as the flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across the room, I settled into my usual spot among the plush cushions, surrounded by my closest friends.

Feyre, Nesta, and Mor lounged around me, each with a book in hand, their faces alight with anticipation for our weekly gathering. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, the air buzzing with the promise of lively conversation and shared insights.

“So, what’s everyone reading this week?” Mor asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced around the circle.

Feyre held up a worn copy of her latest find, a tale of forbidden love and political intrigue. “I’m revisiting an old favorite,” she said with a smile. “It’s like catching up with an old friend.”

Nesta, with a smirk playing on her lips, produced a rather scandalous-looking novel with a provocative cover. “I’m exploring the more… sensual side of literature,” she declared, her voice dripping with amusement.

As the conversation flowed around me, I couldn’t help but chuckle at Nesta’s choice. Leave it to her to bring a little spice to our book club discussions. I was hesitant to share tonight, scared to share my feelings so blatantly, to say them out loud in a space with women who would not so soon let me forget. Tonight felt different, though, I felt stronger, able to seize this chance to share with my friends the tumultuous emotions swirling inside me.

“I’ve been reading this collection of poetry,” I began, my voice tentative at first. “It’s funny how words can capture the complexity of human emotions so beautifully.”

Mor’s eyes gleamed with interest, her grin widening. “Ah, poetry—the language of the heart,” she said, her tone teasing yet tender. “Any particular poem speaking to you?”

I hesitated, my gaze flickering to the empty spot where Azriel usually sat. His absence was keenly felt, a reminder of the unresolved tension between us. “There’s one poem that resonates with me,” I admitted, my voice growing stronger with each word. “It’s about…” I faltered, the weight of my confession heavy on my tongue.

Feyre leaned forward, her eyes warm with understanding. “About love?” she prompted gently, her hand reaching out to squeeze mine in silent support.

I nodded, the words spilling forth in a rush. “About love, and fear, and the courage to open your heart to someone—even when it scares you.”

Nesta regarded me with a thoughtful expression, her gaze piercing yet compassionate. “Love is a battlefield,” she said, her voice soft yet firm. “But sometimes, the greatest victories come from facing our fears head-on.”

Mor chimed in with her trademark humor, lightening the mood with a well-timed joke. “Who knew our stoic Shadowsinger had a soft spot for you?”

Feyre smiled knowingly, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Maybe it’s time to confront the shadows and see what lies beneath.”

Nesta couldn’t resist adding her own brand of wit to the conversation. “Speaking of shadows,” she said with a sly grin, “has anyone else noticed Azriel’s wingspan lately?”

We all laughed at Nesta’s comment, the tension in the room dissipating as we embraced the camaraderie of our little gathering. Despite the challenges we faced, tonight was a reminder that with the support of friends, even the darkest shadows could be chased away.

As the evening wore on, our conversation drifted from books to more personal topics, each of us sharing snippets of our lives and experiences. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, a chance to peel back the layers and reveal the raw truths hidden beneath.

Nesta, ever the enigma, shared tales of her latest adventures in the human lands, her sharp wit and cunning intellect shining through with every word.

Mor, always the life of the party, regaled us with stories of her escapades in the Court of Nightmares, her laughter contagious as she recounted her misadventures.

And Feyre, with her quiet strength and unwavering compassion, offered words of wisdom and encouragement, her presence a soothing balm to our troubled souls.

As for me, I found solace in their company, the weight of my burdens eased by the warmth of their friendship. In their laughter and shared moments, I found the courage to confront my fears and embrace the possibility of a brighter future.

And as the candles burned low and the night grew late, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, I would face them with the unwavering support of my sisters by my side.

The support of the entire Inner Circle was a force as tangible as the magic that coursed through our veins—a constant, steadfast presence that fortified me against the darker moments. Their belief in me, their unyielding backing, gave me strength, and little by little, I began to feel not just the shadow of the person I once was, but someone stronger, resilient, reborn from adversity.

In these gatherings, these moments of shared vulnerability and joy, I was not just healing. I was transforming—emerging not how I was before the kidnapping, but perhaps even brighter, tempered by trials and warmed by the unwavering light of the family I chose and who had chosen me in return.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The night pressed heavily around the room, its silence a thick, oppressive blanket punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of Azriel beside me. In the comfort of his proximity, sleep had finally granted me a temporary reprieve from the relentless torment of my nightmares. Yet, the peace was fragile, vulnerable to the slightest disturbance—a reality proven as a sharp, inexplicable chill sliced through the room's stagnant warmth.

The temperature plummeted, wrapping its icy fingers around my spine, jolting me awake. My eyes flicked open, instantly scanning the familiar contours of the room bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight. Shadows clung to the walls like dark, silent sentinels until one stirred coalescing into a form far too human, far too familiar.

Lyris emerged from the darkness as though materializing from my deepest fears, his presence a tangible echo of past horrors. His eyes, sharp and merciless, locked onto mine with the precision of a hunter sighting its prey. The sheer malevolence in his gaze sent a visceral shudder through me, yet it was no longer solely fear that stirred within my veins. Anger, raw and blazing, kindled within, fueling a burgeoning defiance I hadn't known I possessed.

"Thinking you could escape me?" Lyris's voice was a venomous hiss, his form inching closer with predatory grace. His smirk was twisted, a grotesque mask of sadistic anticipation.

But then, with the seamless reflexes honed by centuries of battle, Azriel was between us. His body moved with lethal precision, his hand snapping out to seize Lyris by the wrist, halting his advance with unyielding strength. "She's under my protection," Azriel snarled, his voice a dangerous, low rumble. His other hand flicked to his side, the sound of steel sliding from leather slicing through the tension as he brandished a dagger, its blade catching the moon's silver light.

Lyris recoiled slightly, his eyes darting to the blade then back to Azriel’s unwavering stare. "You think you can keep her from her fate?" he spat, struggling against Azriel's iron grip.

“Her fate is her own, and you have no part in it,” Azriel retorted, his wings unfurling menacingly. The air around us thickened with dark, swirling shadows, responding to the raw power emanating from him. In that moment, he was not just my protector but an avenging angel cloaked in night's embrace.

The room filled with a heavy, expectant silence, thick with the weight of unspoken threats. Breaking the tension, I found my voice, though it trembled with the force of my emotions. "Where are my wings, Lyris?" The question tore from me, a desperate plea tangled with a demand.

"Your wings?" he mused mockingly, his eyes glinting with cruelty. "Such a precious prize… Let's just say they're kept in a place where they await their true destiny—far from your reach.”

"Give them back," Azriel demanded, his tone lethal, a stark contrast to the deceptive calm of his posture.

Lyris's laugh was cold and chilling, like the howl of the wind outside. "You overestimate your power here, shadow singer. I could take her now, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."

Azriel's response was swift and deadly serious. "Try it, and it will be the last thing you do." His wings unfurled dramatically as he snatched Lyris’ wrist in a powerful grip, the span of dark membrane filling the room with a sense of otherworldly power. The shadows around him deepened, swirling in response to his anger and the protective fury that laced every syllable.

The standoff stretched, a moment suspended in time where every breath, every heartbeat was laden with potential violence. Then, with a jerk, Lyris wrenched free, stepping back into the protective shroud of darkness. “She will never be free from me," he hissed, his presence oppressive, suffocating. "And neither will you."

Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he dissolved into shadows, leaving a cold void in his wake. His final words echoed ominously, a malevolent promise hanging in the air. As the immediate threat vanished, Azriel’s demeanor shifted, the lethal warrior receding to reveal his concern. He turned to me, his intense gaze softening. “Are you alright?” His voice was now a gentle whisper, a stark contrast to the deadly thunder from moments before.

I collapsed back against the pillows, my body trembling uncontrollably. The fear wasn't just about the physical presence of Lyris—it was the emotional and psychological terror, the deep scars he had left on my soul, that overwhelmed me.

Azriel sat beside me, enveloping me in his arms, his presence a solid, reassuring force against the lingering echoes of dread. "I'm here. You're safe," he murmured against my hair, his voice a soothing balm.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, sobs wracking my body as the terror slowly ebbed away, replaced by immense fatigue. "We have to get them back, Azriel. I need to feel whole again."

His embrace tightened, a silent promise of unyielding support. "We will," he assured me quietly. "No matter what it takes, we will bring them back.” He took a deep breath, his arms tightening around me as if he were scared that I might run from him. “Always, I will protect you. From him, from anyone who dares to threaten you,” he murmured into my hair, his breath warm against my scalp. His wings, now gently wrapped around us, formed a cocoon that felt impenetrable.

Settling back against him, I allowed the warmth of his embrace to seep deeper into my bones, expelling the lingering chill of Lyris's visit. His presence was a bastion, within which I found not only protection but a profound sense of belonging.

As we lay back down, the room once again shrouded in the soothing silence of night, a new resolve fortified my spirit. Lyris had found me, yes, but he had not found me alone, nor would he ever. Azriel’s vow to protect me was more than a promise—it was a declaration, a sentinel set against the darkness, both within and without. As sleep beckoned once more, the shadows no longer seemed an ominous threat lurking in the corners but allies, guardians cloaked in the same darkness that wrapped around us, a shield against all that would do harm.

(Late Summer, Cassian)

The morning after Lyris's intrusion, the House of Wind seemed to hold its breath, an unspoken tension palpable in the air. Everyone had shared their worries for her, our friend who had clawed her way back from that bastard's torment. We all worried, we all loved her so greatly, enjoyed the way her presence warmed Azriel’s cold exterior and to see her fall back into that dark place she had fought her way out of, to take Azriel unknowingly with her again, it poured a dark sense of grief over the house.

But amidst the uncertainty, the deep seeded fear of losing our friend once more, there was a glimmer of light, a beacon of hope cutting through the darkness. Entering the kitchen, I was met with a scene that caught me off guard—our friend, her laughter ringing out like a bell as she shared a moment of levity with Azriel. It was a rare sight, one that stirred a mixture of surprise and quiet satisfaction within me.

Azriel, usually cloaked in shadows both literal and metaphorical, had a small, genuine smile playing at the corners of his lips. His usually guarded demeanor seemed to soften in her presence, and I couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in the air between them.

Their interaction spoke volumes, a silent language of understanding and companionship that transcended words. Despite the trials they had faced, there was a sense of comfort and familiarity in their shared laughter, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still light to be found in the company of those we held dear.

As I joined them in the kitchen, a silent witness to their shared moment of joy, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the bond that had formed between them. Their friendship had weathered storms that would have broken lesser souls, and yet here they were, laughing together as if the weight of the world had been lifted from their shoulders.

And as I observed them, surrounded by the warmth of their laughter and the comfort of their companionship, I couldn't help but feel a surge of hope for the future. For in the bond between her and Azriel, I saw strength, resilience, and the promise of brighter days ahead.

(Late Summer, The House of Wind)

The day had been long and daunting, with every passing moment feeling like a test of endurance. The worry from my friends was palpable, their concern etched into every glance and every word. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate their care—it was their hovering, their treating me like a fragile thing, that grated against my newfound sense of strength. But amidst it all, there was Azriel.

He stood as a steadfast anchor amidst the storm, a silent guardian who watched over me with unwavering determination. While others fretted and fussed, he remained at my side, a silent sentinel who seemed to understand without the need for words. His presence alone was enough to bolster my spirits, to remind me that I was not alone in this struggle.

Throughout the day, I found myself stealing glances at him, marveling at the depth of his care. How had I not noticed it before? His gaze lingered on me with a mixture of concern and understanding, his eyes a window to the depths of his soul. It was as if he saw straight through the facade I presented to the world, recognizing the strength within me even when I doubted it myself.

As evening descended and the weight of the day settled upon us, we retreated to the familiar sanctuary of my room. Azriel had made it his own, his presence a comforting presence in the darkness. The routine of preparing for bed had become second nature to us—changing into pajamas, brushing our teeth side by side, and slipping under the covers as Azriel performed his meticulous check of the room.

In the quiet moments before sleep claimed us, we lay in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for Azriel's unwavering support, for his steadfast presence that had seen me through the darkest of days. It was a bond forged in the crucible of adversity, a connection that defied explanation yet felt more real than anything I had ever known.

“Azriel?” I called softly into the night, my voice barely a whisper.

He turned to me, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window. For a moment, we simply gazed at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. And then, with a small smile, he reached out, pulling me closer until I was nestled against his chest.

At that moment, as I lay nestled against Azriel's chest, something shifted between us—a subtle yet profound change that altered the very fabric of our connection. It was as if the air crackled with an invisible energy, a tangible tension that seemed to draw us closer together.

I felt it first, the unmistakable sensation of the mating bond snapping into place with a sudden clarity that took my breath away. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. The primal need to be close to him, to feel his presence as an extension of my own, suddenly made perfect sense.

And then, as if in response to my realization, Azriel let out a small gasp, his arms tightening around me with a fierce urgency that mirrored my own. It was a primal, instinctual reaction, as if some ancient part of him recognized the significance of this moment and refused to let me go.

In that instant, all doubts and uncertainties melted away, replaced by a profound sense of clarity and understanding. We were bound together, our souls intertwined in a way that transcended the physical realm. And as I gazed into Azriel's eyes, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united by the unbreakable bond that now bound us.

"I'll protect you, ensure you are safe and happy and loved," Azriel vowed, his voice a soothing melody that wrapped around me like a warm embrace, promising sanctuary in the depths of his love.

Tears welled in my eyes as his words washed over me, a flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm my fragile resolve. "As will I," I replied, my voice trembling with the weight of my own commitment, my heart laid bare before him in a moment of raw vulnerability.

His eyes, pools of darkness tinged with golden fire, bore into mine with a fierce intensity, piercing through the walls I had built around my heart. "Throughout all the seasons you will be mine, if that is what you want?" His voice was a whisper, yet it echoed through the chambers of my soul, stirring something deep within me that I could no longer deny.

With a trembling breath, I reached out to him, my fingers trembling as they traced the contours of his face, memorizing every line, every scar, every shadow that danced across his skin. "There is no one else I would rather share them with," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, the truth of my words ringing out in the quiet room like a sacred vow.

And in that moment, as our souls intertwined in the golden threads of the mating bond, I felt a surge of emotion wash over me, overwhelming in its intensity. It was as if the weight of a thousand lifetimes had been lifted from my shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace and belonging that I had longed for all my life.

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I pressed my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the space between us as we stood on the precipice of eternity. In that sacred embrace, we found refuge from the storms that had battered our souls, forging a connection that would endure the trials of time. And as we surrendered to the pull of the mating bond, our hearts beat as one, a symphony of love and devotion that echoed through the halls of the House of Wind.

Together, we would face the challenges that lay ahead, our bond a beacon of hope in the darkness, guiding us through the labyrinth of life with unwavering strength and unwavering love.

For in each other's arms, we had found our home, our sanctuary, our forever. And as the night enveloped us in its embrace, we knew that no matter what trials awaited us, we would face them together, united in a love that was destined to last for all eternity.

[PREVIOUS]

[small-z24]

One-Shot: Shadows of Confession

Summary: 

What happens when Azriel tells Cassian that Cassian’s little sister Y/N is his mate?

Word Count: 1798

Warnings: None aside from an over protective Cassian 

The training grounds of the Night Court were eerily quiet, save for the distant hum of the city below. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the field where Cassian and Azriel stood, sweat gleaming on their brows from an intense sparring session.

Cassian was the first to break the silence, his voice gruff yet concerned. “You’ve been distracted lately, Az. What’s going on?”

Azriel hesitated, his heart pounding. This was the moment he’d been dreading, but he couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. He sheathed his sword and turned to face his brother. “Cassian, we need to talk.”

Cassian’s brow furrowed, sensing the seriousness in Azriel’s tone. “What is it?”

Azriel took a deep breath, his shadows swirling around him nervously. “It’s about your sister. About Y/N.”

Cassian’s eyes darkened, suspicion creeping into his expression. “What about Y/N?”

Azriel met Cassian’s gaze, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “She’s my mate.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, like a storm breaking, Cassian’s face contorted with anger. “What did you just say?”

“Y/N is my mate,” Azriel repeated, trying to remain calm. “I’ve known for a while now, but I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure.”

Cassian’s fists clenched, his wings flaring out behind him. “My sister? You think you can just... claim her?”

“It’s not about claiming,” Azriel said, his own shadows agitated by Cassian’s reaction. “It’s a bond, something neither of us can control.”

Cassian took a step forward, his voice low and dangerous. “You think I’m going to let you, with your shadows and your darkness, anywhere near her? She’s too innocent, too pure for someone like you.”

Azriel’s heart ached at the words, but he held his ground. “I know you want to protect her, Cassian. I do too. I would never hurt her.”

Cassian’s eyes flashed with fury. “You already have! By being who you are, by being in her life, you’re putting her in danger.”

“I love her,” Azriel said quietly, the confession hanging in the air between them. “I love her more than anything. I would die to keep her safe.”

Cassian’s anger seemed to waver, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “Do you think that makes it any easier for me to accept? She’s my little sister, Az. I’ve watched over her all her life. I can’t just... let go.”

Azriel stepped closer, his voice earnest. “I’m not asking you to let go, Cassian. I’m asking you to trust me. To trust that I will do everything in my power to protect her, to make her happy.”

Cassian’s shoulders sagged, the weight of his emotions pulling him down. “She deserves better than this, better than a life filled with shadows.”

Azriel nodded, understanding the depth of Cassian’s concern. “She does. But she’s my light in the darkness, Cassian. She’s the reason I can face my shadows.”

Cassian looked away, struggling with his conflicting emotions. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh. “Does she know?”

Azriel shook his head. “Not yet. I wanted to tell you first. I owe you that much.”

Cassian was silent for a long moment, the tension between them palpable. Then he looked back at Azriel, his expression softening just a fraction. “If you hurt her, Az... if you let her down in any way, I will never forgive you.”

“I won’t,” Azriel vowed, his voice unwavering. “I swear to you, Cassian. I will cherish her, protect her, and love her with everything I have.”

Cassian nodded slowly, the anger in his eyes replaced by a weary acceptance. “You better. For both your sakes.”

Azriel reached out, placing a hand on Cassian’s shoulder. “Thank you. It means more than you know.”

Cassian gripped Azriel’s shoulder in return, his expression still tense but less hostile. “Just... be good to her, Az. She deserves the best.”

“I will,” Azriel promised, feeling a surge of relief and hope. “I promise.”

As they stood there, the last light of day fading into night, Azriel knew that the hardest part was yet to come—telling Y/N the truth. But with Cassian’s reluctant blessing, he felt ready to face whatever came next, determined to build a future with the woman who had brought light into his shadows.

That evening, Azriel found himself standing outside Rhysand’s study, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He needed advice on how to approach Y/N, and there was no one better to turn to than Rhysand.

He knocked softly, and a moment later, Rhysand’s voice called out, “Come in.”

Azriel entered the room, closing the door behind him. Rhysand looked up from his desk, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Azriel. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Azriel took a seat, his shadows restless around him. “I need your advice, Rhys.”

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his expression serious. “What’s on your mind?”

Azriel took a deep breath. “It’s about Y/N. She’s my mate.”

Rhysand’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Y/N? Cassian’s sister?”

Azriel nodded. “Yes. And I told Cassian today. He... didn’t take it well.”

Rhysand chuckled softly. “I can imagine. Cassian can be a bit overprotective when it comes to his sister.”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “That’s an understatement. But he gave me his reluctant blessing. Now, I need to figure out how to tell Y/N.”

Rhysand’s gaze softened. “You’re worried about how she’ll react?”

Azriel nodded. “Yes. She’s always been a bit wary of me, of my shadows. I’m afraid that the bond won’t snap into place for her, that she’ll always be a little afraid of me.”

Rhysand leaned forward, his eyes filled with empathy. “Azriel, you’ve always been good at reading people. Trust that. You know Y/N better than you think. Just be honest with her. Tell her how you feel, and let her see the real you.”

Azriel’s shadows seemed to calm at Rhysand’s words. “You’re right. I need to trust in the bond, and in her.”

Rhysand smiled. “Exactly. And remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re all here to support you, and Y/N too.”

Azriel stood, feeling a renewed sense of determination. “Thank you, Rhys. I appreciate it.”

Rhysand nodded, his smile widening. “Anytime, Az. Now go, and tell her how you feel.”

The House of Wind was alive with laughter and conversation as the Night Court gathered for dinner. The long table was filled with the Court's closest members, including Rhysand, Feyre, Mor, Amren, Cassian, Azriel, and Y/N. The warmth of camaraderie and the delicious scent of food filled the air, creating a comforting atmosphere.

Azriel, seated next to Y/N, could barely focus on the meal. His mind was preoccupied with the conversation he had with Cassian earlier that day and the advice he received from Rhysand. He glanced at Y/N, who seemed to be enjoying herself, chatting animatedly with Mor.

Cassian, seated across the table, kept a watchful eye on Azriel. His earlier anger simmered beneath the surface, and he struggled to keep his emotions in check. The knowledge that his sister and Azriel were mates weighed heavily on him.

As the meal progressed, Azriel leaned closer to Y/N, his voice low. "Y/N, can we talk after dinner? There’s something important I need to discuss with you."

Y/N turned to him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and something else—something Azriel couldn't quite place. "Of course, Azriel. I’d like that."

Cassian’s sharp eyes caught the intimate exchange, and he felt his control slipping. His protective instincts over Y/N surged, and before he could stop himself, he slammed his fist on the table, causing everyone to jump.

“Enough!” Cassian roared, his voice echoing through the dining hall. “You think you can just whisper sweet nothings to my sister under my nose, Azriel?”

Everyone turned to look at Cassian in shock, their expressions ranging from surprise to confusion.

“What are you talking about, Cassian?” Rhysand asked, his tone calm but curious.

Cassian pointed a shaking finger at Azriel, his eyes blazing with fury. “He’s been keeping a secret from all of us. From Y/N. He’s her mate!”

Gasps filled the room, and all eyes turned to Azriel and Y/N. Azriel stood, his expression a mixture of anger and determination. “Cassian, this isn’t the way—”

Y/N rose to her feet, her face a mask of shock and dismay. “Cassian, stop! This isn’t your decision to make.”

Cassian turned to her, his voice filled with anguish. “You’re my little sister, Y/N. You don’t understand what you’re getting into. Azriel’s shadows—”

Y/N stepped closer to Cassian, her eyes flashing with determination. “I’ve known, Cassian. I’ve known for a while.”

Silence fell over the room as everyone processed Y/N’s words. Azriel looked at her in surprise. “You knew?”

She nodded, her gaze softening as she met his eyes. “Yes, Azriel. I knew. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to scare you off. I know how much your shadows mean to you, and I wanted to give you time.”

Cassian looked between Azriel and Y/N, his anger dissipating into confusion. “You knew?”

Y/N reached out to take Cassian’s hand, her voice gentle. “Yes, and I appreciate your concern. But this is my decision. Azriel is my mate, and I trust him.”

Rhysand cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “Well, this certainly explains a lot. But Cassian, you need to trust your sister. She’s capable of making her own choices.”

Feyre nodded in agreement, her eyes warm with understanding. “And Azriel is one of the most honorable men I know. He would never hurt Y/N.”

Cassian’s shoulders sagged, the weight of his emotions finally catching up to him. “I just want her to be safe.”

Azriel stepped forward, his voice steady and sincere. “I swear to you, Cassian, I will protect her with my life. She is everything to me.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with love for both her brother and Azriel. “And I love him, Cassian. Please, trust us.”

Cassian sighed, finally relenting. “Alright. But if you ever hurt her, Azriel—”

“I won’t,” Azriel promised, his eyes locking with Y/N’s. “I swear.”

As the tension eased, Rhysand raised his glass, a smile playing on his lips. “To new beginnings, and to the bonds that make us stronger.”

Everyone raised their glasses, the mood lightening once more. Y/N took her seat next to Azriel, their hands entwined under the table. They shared a private smile, knowing that despite the challenges ahead, they would face them together.

Cassian watched them, his protective instincts still strong but tempered by the knowledge that his sister was happy. And in the end, that was all that mattered.

[soulessjourney]

Hello love I have a request that I would love you to write!

Cassian or Azriel I am not picky and Y/N

Y/n gets into an argument with Cassian and or Azriel about how they are not attentive, and they’re for them anymore and says that if things don’t change they’re leaving. Things do not change and it is the night that the inner circle goes into Hewn city. at the gala, Eris ask Y/N to dance. And one of the boys is really brooding just standing in a corner just watching YN and Eris dance and then is the part where Taylor goes. “I can see you staring honey like he’s just your understudy like you get your knuckles, bloody for me” I want their eyes to connect from across the dance floor. That would be great. then I am giving you full creative freedom with the undertones of exile by Taylor Swift. give me all the angst you can give the more the better.

I absolutely love this idea! I hope that I live up to your expectations and provided enough angst to feed that burning hunger of yours! Also apologies that it has taken me so long, in all honesty I kept forgetting what I was writing and I wanted it to be PERFECT.

Exile

Paring: Azriel x Reader

Word count: 4k

Summary: Azriel starts to distance himself from you. Fed up with his disappearing acts, you confront him, only for it to end in driving you away entirely.

Warnings: Angst (and lots of it), Fighting, Language, Hurt and comfort (from Mor)

If there was one thing Azriel was known for, it was his dedication to his work and his undying loyalty to Rhysand. He was also your mate, someone who meant the entire world to you. You had met Azriel about two hundred years ago when you started your bakery. He came in after watching you struggle with carrying the large bags of flour, extending a helping hand. Since then, he started coming daily to see what new goods you were cooking up, and that's when he asked you on your first date.

The first date was a bit awkward as he shied away, speaking in such a hushed tone that you had to repeatedly ask him to repeat himself. Despite Azriel's strength, you loved his shy side. There was something so docile and soft about it, and you were the only one who truly got to see that side of him.

When the bond snapped into place, both of you were fighting over who would mix the flour, ending with both of you covered from head to toe. It was when he heard your infectious laugh that he felt it, and it was obvious when you gave him that loving gaze he was drawn to. Your eyes were so soft, and your smile was wide. So, that evening, you made him his favorite treat and offered it to him, which soon led to Azriel making sure Rhysand got it through Cassian’s head that you two were not to be bothered for a few weeks.

Those were the moments you missed more than anything. You missed curling up with Azriel as you read the same book, often sharing your reactions. You missed hiding from him to scare him, only to fail the moment his shadows shot out to greet you after a long day. You missed your mate, and your happy memories felt like a fever dream. He was starting to become a distant memory, and part of you wasn’t even sure if you wanted to put up a fight.

You couldn't recall the last time you had spent more than a few moments with him. Lately, he had been staying at the House of Wind to be closer to Rhysand, ready for any last-minute missions that might arise. Initially, you didn't mind, considering Rhysand's frequent missions, especially when Feyre was pregnant and needed his support. However, what began to trouble you was that he never invited you to join him, nor did he visit your shared home to see you.

Then you heard about the time he started spending with Elain. You weren't bothered by her, as you couldn't blame her for shutting everyone out. Her entire life had been stripped away in a matter of moments, and now she was essentially immortal, with a mate forced upon her. However, understanding also brought weariness. You could sense that she had developed feelings for your mate, and Azriel, being who he is, most likely was unaware of the affection she held towards him. Strangely, this knowledge made you want to be around him more, but you didn't know how to navigate the situation.

Azriel had been a significant presence in your life, and the sensation of him slipping away was something you loathed. At some point, he had closed off the bond, making it nearly impossible to reach out to him through it. Running your hands over your face, you attempted to dispel the exhaustion before deciding to visit the House of Wind to ensure Azriel was at least alive.

Your arrival at the House of Wind did not go unnoticed. Cassian, upon spotting you ascending to the training area, made your presence known. "Y/N! You're here. We've been wondering when you would show up. We were starting to think you didn't like us," he teased, capturing everyone's attention.

Clearing your throat, you offered him a small smile as the breeze tousled your hair. "Yeah, things have been hectic at the bakery. Have you seen Azriel? It's been hard to find him lately," you inquired, noticing Cassian's expression contorting into one of pure confusion.

"What do you mean? He said he was with you this morning," Cassian replied, scrutinizing your every move. Dread began to fill your body as the realization that Azriel had even been deceiving the others dawned on you.

Forcefully laughing, you scratched the back of your head, clearing your throat. "No, he was! By 'lately,' I meant during the day since he's usually all over because of the missions Rhys keeps assigning him," you explained, even your forced smile fading as Cassian's gaze filled with concern and pity.

"Y/N, Rhys hasn't assigned him anything for a while, not after what happened with Feyre and your injury. Rhys wanted him to be around you more because of that close call. Are you telling me you haven't seen him?" Cassian inquired, raising a brow and challenging you to lie. By now, the entire area had cleared out except for Nesta, who stood in the background watching you and Cassian, her jaw tense. She knew something, and you would extract it from her if necessary.

"No, I haven't. I mean, he comes home once in a blue moon, but then he just sleeps in the guest room, and he's gone by the time I wake up," you admitted, your shoulders sagging. "I really miss him, Cass. The nightmares are starting to return. He's not avoiding me because he blames himself for what happened, right?" Just a few months ago, Azriel had angered someone, resulting in a dagger being firmly lodged in your side. Recalling that moment, you realized Azriel wasn't present when Cassian and Feyre found you on the floor of the bakery's kitchen that morning.

You heard Nesta curse before she joined Cassian's side. "I spoke to the idiot already, and I thought I got through to him. He's with Elain in the garden. I saw them just before training started, and considering how often they spend time there, he should still be there," she divulged, her expression shifting from anger to guilt. You wanted to be furious, but part of you couldn't muster the anger towards her. Nesta had tried her best to handle the situation discreetly, but with her knowing, you wondered just how long Azriel had been sneaking around with Elain while deceiving the rest of his family.

You hadn’t heard anything else Nesta had said as your feet carried you through the house. Just as you turned the corner, you collided with a solid chest, causing you to stumble back. Looking up, you sucked in a deep breath as your eyes locked with a pair of hazel ones. "Azriel," you breathed, reaching out towards him. Your hand fell to your side when he pulled away from you. "I've missed you. You're never around anymore," your voice thick with emotion as you struggled to say anything beyond the standard 'I miss you'.

Azriel glanced over your shoulder, his expression hardening. "You're not supposed to be here. Why are you here?" His eyes eventually met yours as a scoff escaped your mouth. You hadn’t seen your mate for the past few weeks, and that’s what he had to say to you? That you weren’t supposed to be there, trying to ensure he was alive?

"You're joking, right? Azriel, I haven’t seen you for weeks, and that’s all you have to say? A hello would’ve been nice at least," you snapped, crossing your arms. Rolling his eyes, he turned on his heel and began to walk away. "No, you don’t get to walk away from me, Azriel. That’s not fair. You don’t get to pull a disappearing act without some sort of explanation. You don’t get to lie to your family and expect not to get caught," you snapped, following after him. As the two of you entered the dining area, you missed the others sitting at the table, their conversations cut short as you stomped after Azriel.

Azriel stopped and spun towards you, his wings flaring slightly. "My gods, Y/N, can’t you just get off my back? I’m not going to be there every single second of the day with you. You need to learn how to live without me for once in your life." Any sound that filled the room suddenly fell silent as you took a step back, feeling as though he had slapped you.

"Oh, shit." Looking around, you came face to face with your family, all silent as they watched you. Nesta was glaring daggers at Azriel, while Cassian and Rhysand were positioned to intervene if things went south. Mor and Feyre looked at you, their faces filled with guilt. Then there was Elain, sitting there with the audacity to appear clueless about what was happening. Your entire family was there to witness the potential downfall of your relationship with Azriel. Great.

"What's your issue, Y/N? Why are you on my case today? I haven’t done anything to deserve this nagging. Gods, it’s like after you healed, you became an overbearing mess," Nesta slammed her hands down on the table and stood, prompting Cassian to grab hold of her to prevent her from lunging at Azriel across the room.

A dry laugh escaped you as you narrowed your eyes. “Overbearing? Azriel, you haven’t been around in weeks! You can’t even stand to be in the same room as me. And overbearing? Day to day, I have to deal with the people you anger, and I constantly fear for my life because of your job. I took a damn dagger to the side and almost died because of your job. I’m sorry if accepting you for who you are and your job is overbearing. I’m sorry that worrying for you is just so awful. You’ve changed, Azriel, and I don’t know if it’s because of the damn elephant in the room or if you’ve simply given up. I’m tired of dealing with the nightmares alone, and I want you back by my side when I wake up screaming because I constantly feel that dagger ripping me apart.” Tears streamed down your face as you looked around.

Rhysand had slowly made his way towards you with Mor by his side, the two members of this family, besides Cassian, whom you trusted with your life. Glaring down at the ground, you looked up at Azriel, your face void of any emotion. “If you can’t clean up your act, I’m done.” Azriel froze as a flood of fear slammed into you. He slipped, and you could tell the moment he slammed those walls back up.

“Clean up my act? You’re the one to talk. It’s like ever since you woke up, you became afraid of the world all over again. You shouldn’t need us to walk you to work and back. You shouldn’t need us hanging around the store all day just because you’re scared of someone showing up. I can’t stand to have a mate who is so fearful of the world.” You dropped your shoulders in defeat at his words. It was true; after what happened, you had been terrified of being in that shop, fearing they would come back and finish the job.

Rhysand was next to you in a second, followed by Mor, who caught you as your knees gave out. “That is no way to speak to your mate, Azriel,” Rhysand spat. “You sat around moping because you wanted one. The Mother blesses you with one, and this is how you thank her? Seriously?” Rhysand crossed his arms, the room noticeably darkening.

“Well, maybe she made a mistake. Maybe Y/N isn’t supposed to be my mate. We have nothing in common, meanwhile, Elain and I do.” The moment the words left his mouth, your head snapped in Elain’s direction as you clenched your jaw.

Looking back at Azriel, you shook your head. “I mean it, Azriel. If you can’t clean up your act, I’m done. Don’t bother looking for me until you figure out your mess. I’m done,” you spat, winnowing from your very spot into your room. Grabbing a duffel bag, you began to cram things into it just as you heard footsteps sprinting down the hall towards your door, and the echoes of voices calling out to the owner of those steps.

As Azriel threw open the door, you looked at him as he reached out for you, his mouth opening to say something. Before you could hear what he had to say, you disappeared, leaving him standing in the middle of your room.

---

It had been a month since you chose to seclude yourself in Mor's guest bedroom. As the door slowly opened, light flooded into the dark room, and Mor stepped inside. Sitting on the bed, she gently rubbed your back to draw your attention. "Hey there, sweetheart. It's time to get you out of this room. Velaris has started to notice your absence now that the bakery is closed," she said softly, sensing your reluctance. "He still asks about you, but he's also spending more time with her. Rhys has tried talking sense into him, Cassian kicked his ass, and the girls have been giving him the cold shoulder. I'm sorry, my love, but perhaps attending the Gala in Hewn City would do you good," she suggested, brushing your hair away from your face gently.

You nodded and turned onto your side to look at her, a small frown forming on your lips. Mor's gaze softened as she sighed softly. "Come, I want to show you something," she said, gently pulling you out of bed. Standing up, you followed her out of the room toward another one just down the hall. Mor pushed the door open, revealing a mannequin adorned with a stunning deep purple gown featuring delicate beadwork climbing the bodice. The main skirts bore the design of a tree and leaves, with the beads on the skirt representing flowers. It was the most beautiful gown you had ever seen.

"I had it made for you to wear tonight. You deserve to look and feel beautiful. Azriel is taking you for granted. With your beauty and eyes that could bring a man to his knees, this dress is perfect for you," Mor whispered from behind you, resting her hands on your shoulders gently.

A wide smile graced your lips for the first time in a month as you turned to face Mor. "Thank you, Mor. Truly, it means a lot to me that you did this," your words were soft and heartfelt. A sense of brokenness lingered within you, the result of Azriel's neglect over the past month, compounded by the knowledge of his time spent with Elain. Mor guided you to the bathroom, where she helped you into the tub and began to wet and wash your hair.

"You know, we’re all upset with him for treating you like this. Yes, Elain needed help before, but even Nesta started to reprimand him for spending too much time with her. I remember when he first came home after meeting you. He was covered in flowers and had the biggest grin on his face. He couldn't stop talking about you, and Cassian often had to beg him to stop. But then, after one of his missions went awry and you got hurt, everything changed. He refused to see you, or even go near that part of the house. And then he kissed Elain. I thought Nesta was going to tear him to shreds. After that, he began lying to us about spending time with you, even after Rhysand practically forced him out of the garden." Mor's words pierced through you, mentioning the kiss shattered your fragile emotional state.

A wave of despair washed over you. Shoulders slumping, you gazed down at the water surrounding your bare form. "Do you think he still loves me?" you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty. Mor took a deep breath, visibly caught off guard by your question. She hummed softly as she poured water over your head, grappling for the right words.

"I'm sure he does. Azriel is complex, we all know that. For centuries, he's prayed to The Mother for a mate. I heard him whispering a prayer every night until he met you. Then it turned into begging her to ensure your safety. Azriel tends to shut down and push away those closest to him when he's struggling to cope. He avoided Rhysand when he returned from Amarantha's clutches. His treatment of you isn't fair, but I genuinely don't know how to reach him anymore." Mor cleared her throat, rising to her feet. "I'll leave you to dry off and get into a robe. When you're ready, come downstairs, and I'll help you dress and do your hair," she offered with a comforting smile, squeezing your shoulder before exiting the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

It didn’t take long for you to exit the tub once the water turned cold. After drying off your body, you slipped on a black silk robe and began to towel dry your hair. As you made your way towards the stairs, you made a mental note to find a way to thank Mor for everything she had done for you. Nearing the bottom of the steps, you froze upon hearing Mor engaged in a conversation with someone. Peeking around the corner, you spotted Azriel standing with his back to you in the middle of the living room, while Mor stared at him with an intense gaze. “She thinks you don’t love her, Azriel. You’ve pushed her to the brink of giving up,” she snapped, causing him to tense at her words.

Azriel ran his fingers through his hair, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the right words to say. “I do, I just... I don’t know. I haven’t seen her for a month, and I’m starting to go crazy, Mor. I don’t know what to do about it anymore, and it feels like everything I say comes out wrong,” he confessed. You noticed his shadows lurking in the room, beginning to slither their way towards you.

“And what about the kiss, Azriel? You kissed Elain while your own mate was at home, thinking you were off on some mission Rhysand assigned to you,” Mor jabbed a finger into his shoulder. “You gave up, and she kept pushing. This is your doing, and you need to figure it out. She was serious when she told you to clean up your act. Right now, you’re showing her you’ll never change, not after you hadn’t even bothered to come see her for a month knowing she was here. You pushed her aside for Elain. It’s time you finally accept the consequences of your actions, Azriel. If you lose her for good, that’ll be on you.” Before Azriel could respond, he tensed and turned towards you, his eyes widening.

Allowing your gaze to fall into a blank expression, you looked at Mor. “I’m ready,” your voice came out as a whisper, and Mor nodded, shoving past Azriel. You both made your way back up the stairs, leaving Azriel standing alone in the middle of the room. Once again, you were just out of his reach, and once again, he was on the verge of losing you for good.

---

The gala was breathtaking. Witnessing the courts gathering together always brought you immense joy. Tamlin made his way towards you, a wide smile on his face. “Y/N! It’s good to see you again. We've been missing your baked goods dearly,” he grinned, prompting a laugh from you. Born in the Spring court, you had grown close to Tamlin, and it was there that you honed your baking skills while growing up. When the time came for you to seek a new path, Tamlin had let you go, assuring you that you would always have a home to return to.

When Azriel pulled his disappearing acts, leaving you alone with your thoughts, you often debated returning to Spring, where you knew you had a family who would welcome you with open arms. “Thank you, Tamlin. If I'm ever permitted, I’ll be sure to bring you some of my cookies that you drooled over,” you teased, brushing a curl away from your shoulder.

Tamlin looked around, a questioning look flashing across his face. “Where’s your mate? The last time you and I talked, he was glued to your side.” Your eyes dulled slightly as you shrugged. You hadn’t seen Azriel all evening, though you knew he was here as you were constantly followed by a shadow.

Before you could respond, Eris made his appearance, as fashionable as ever. “Y/N, you truly outdid yourself this time. You look absolutely breathtaking in that dress. Shall we have a dance?” Without waiting for your answer, Eris grabbed your hand and led you towards the dance floor, where bodies swirled in a mesmerizing pattern. You and Eris fell into an easy rhythm as he looked down at you. “Sorry to drag you away from Tamlin, but I couldn’t help but notice how sad you looked. Is it because of your mate?” His eyes bore into yours as you sucked in a deep breath.

“It would be a mistake to lie to you,” you grumbled, earning a laugh of agreement from him. “Azriel and I haven’t talked for a good while. He’s been busy with other things,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. As you both spun, you caught sight of him standing in the corner of the room, watching you. Your eyes hardened as they locked onto his.

Eris cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to him. “You know, if you need a break from your home, you can stay in my court. We obviously have the room, and I can make sure you get the space you need to think. As much as Morrigan hates me, she’s worried about you to the point where she asked me for help.” Studying his gaze, it wasn’t hard to tell that he was being genuine.

Looking towards Azriel again, you studied him, your eyes narrowing as Elain walked up to him, handing him a glass. Biting back your tears, you let your walls down, throwing every ounce of anger, betrayal, sadness, and fear at him. You watched as he stumbled back slightly, his hand flying up over his chest, his eyes locking onto yours. You watched as Elain reached out to him, running her hand over his arm as she tried to check on him. Eris stopped moving as he stood next to you, watching the interaction between the both of them. “Just say the word, and I can take you away from here,” he whispered.

You waited for him to brush off Elain, but he didn’t. He let her hand rest on his cheek as he kept his eyes on yours, his eyes widening. “He doesn’t care about me anymore, Eris. Take me to your court,” you said, looking up at Eris, who only nodded. You didn’t miss how he glanced at Rhysand and the others, giving them a small nod. You didn’t miss how their shoulders sagged in defeat once they realized you were leaving. You didn’t miss how the crowd began to part as Azriel raced towards you, dropping to his knees in front of you. You watched as his body shook with sobs, how he begged you to stay, begged you to stay by his side. “Where were you when I begged The Mother to bring you back to me? Where were you when I was dying on the kitchen floor of my own bakery after taking a knife for you? Where were you when I woke up screaming for you? Go back to Elain, Azriel. You made your decision.” With that, you turned to Eris, giving him a small nod. With that, the both of you walked away, leaving Azriel on the ground sobbing into his hands before he disappeared from your sight as the crowd closed behind you.

[cassiefromhell]

Unexpected (pt. 6)

Part One Part Five

Fanbase: acotar

Eris x Reader x Azriel

Summary: Eris, freshly mated to you and volatile as ever, has walked in on you and Azriel in a hostile position... what will he think? It's up to you to diffuse the situation.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: fingering, dirty talk, suggestion of oral

A/N: Requests are OPEN! Check my pinned message for details on what I'll write <3 (anything from hc's to drabbles to fully blown fics! ever had a great fic idea but cant write? send em over!!). Thank you so, so much for the notes on this lil series! I read all comments and reblogs.

In the split seconds that follow Eris’s arrival, things go down far too quickly for me to comprehend well. 

As Eris’s expression turns to rage, Azriel realizes the gravity of the situation before I can even react. He releases me from his death grip, gently nudging me away from himself and backing up.

But he was too slow; Eris saw the hold he had me in, and he’s descending on Azriel.

I step forward — honestly, involuntarily, for I did not tell my body to put myself between two very opposing males — and Eris collides with me. “Eris, Eris, love, look at me. Look at me. I’m okay.”

Eris doesn’t even spare me a glance, but he does place a protective hand on my lower back, which means I have his attention. But his whole body is tense and ready to pounce at Azriel.

I continue to soothe him, rubbing circles on his chest. “I’m okay. We were just having a little fun with sparring. Nobody got hurt—”

“That was not sparring,” Eris hisses, eyes narrowing further. “I could hear you down the hall—you were asking him to let you go—”

“You act as if I had her in a chokehold,” Azriel adds, his voice coming from behind me. “She can hold her own — unlike you. I could kill you in an instant.”

His comment causes an immediate growl from Eris, and the red-haired male gently pushes me aside, and then lunges for Azriel.

The movement is too fast for me to react in time, and Eris knocks Azriel to the ground, sending the two sprawling across the floor.

Groaning, I pinch the bridge of my nose, one phrase on loop in my brain: Stupid, aggressive males. Stupid, aggressive males.

I let them brawl for around twenty seconds, wincing when Azriel lands a solid punch to Eris’s nose, but wincing harder when Eris swiftly kicks Azriel’s groin. The sharp cry of pain from that, quite literally, low blow makes me decide that enough is enough.

I stride over to them, then wait until Azriel is on top of their little rolling spree, knowing that he’s more likely to listen to me. When that happens, I speak, my voice demanding and echoing throughout the room. “Enough.”

That word in my signature ‘listen up buckaroo’ tone is enough to make both males pause and look over to me.

“I said, enough. Get off, Azriel, before I drag you by your scruff like a mangy dog — because that’s what you’re both acting like.”

Azriel, with his tail between his legs, gives Eris one last sharp glare before standing, shuffling away.

Eris is on his feet immediately, not looking quite ready to let him go.

“Eris!” I shout, stepping in front of him and grabbing his shoulders. “Look at me. Eris!”

It takes a moment, but he does relent, my first mate’s eyes shifting down to my own. 

“He’s hurting more than I am now. You’ve gotten your petty revenge. Now sit down, and listen,” I scold him, pushing on his shoulders.

Obediently, he sits on the ground. He knows my rage, and he’s learned that a happy mate keeps your life straight.

I whirl, putting my hands on my hips. Azriel is standing there, silent as ever, his shadows angrily swirling. His arms are crossed firmly over his chest, concealing his burnt—and likely now bloodied—hands. His attention is trained on Eris, seeming moderately amused that I have him on the floor like a scolded puppy.

“You too. Sit. Now.”

He too sits, but after more hesitation and a skeptical look towards me. The faint amusement on his features vanishes.

I stride to be standing directly between the two. “I will not tolerate any more anger-fed, impulsive, and frankly violent tendencies between you two. If you’re fighting for me, then do it better — I don’t know, buy me flowers or something. If you’re angry about our whole double-mate predicament, take it out on someone else. Yell at a council member, Eris. Spar with a particularly annoying Illyrian, Azriel. You know what? If you reaaaally need to get out the urge to punch each other’s teeth out, go ahead. But not in my presence. If that’s what you need, then you get a licensed sparring referee to watch you two and make sure no-one dies. But don’t go complaining to me.

“Eris,” I turn to face the male in question, flashing my teeth as I speak. “You will learn to accept that Azriel is also my mate. We’re bound to spend time together, and I understand that we’re freshly mated and you encountered us in an irregular position, but you need to leash your anger towards him.”

I hadn’t planned much of a lecture for Azriel, but a quiet, mocking “leash it, like your hounds” from behind me has me turning to face him once more.

“And Azriel,” I continue, raising my voice an octave. “You will behave. You will watch your mouth. You know better than to egg on a volatile, freshly mated male, especially in front of his female. Do you understand?”

Azriel bites his tongue like he’s refraining from insulting Eris one last time… but he nods.

“Eris. Do you understand?” I ask, crossing my arms.

The red headed male nods, more eagerly than Azriel had.

“Good. Now, both of you up.”

Equally obediently this time, they each rise. 

“Shake hands.”

Eris scowls, giving me a sidelong glance. “Love, you know how I feel about this. I will be civil, but—”

“Don’t make me force you to promise each other eternal pacifism and harmony.”

Eris immediately holds out his hand.

And, thank the Mother, Azriel shakes it.

“Good,” I sigh, running a hand down my face. “Eris, put away my harp. Azriel, I will visit Velaris in four days’ time. I expect you to be here to pick me up.”

Azriel blinks for a moment, then grins. “I’ll be there.”

Eris makes a pouty face, but I manage to brush it off for now. I’m not very good at resisting a clingy Eris, however, so I know that I need to take my leave.

I turn to the exit and leave, slamming the door shut behind me. I have to trust that those two will either talk it out or disperse on their own terms, because I am desperate to get out of the palace after the deadly combination of this encounter and so many days spent in our chambers. Not that I haven’t immensely enjoyed them.

But, honestly, my hips need a break.

An hour later, I sit high up in a tree, deep in the luscious forest surrounding the Autumn Court treehouse-style castle. 

My horse, a disagreeable andalusian mare with a stunning dapple gray coat, is tied to the trunk of a nearby tree. I’m sure she’s happily eating apples or picking the bark off of a stump.

I find these woods incredibly calming. The rustle of leaves, the crunching of pebbles under the hooves of animals — it creates a soothing atmosphere. 

Eris has graciously left me this time on my own. I’m sure he could sense through the bond how upset I was about all of the fighting — I have enough on my plate as it is. However, he won’t be able to stay away for much longer, not with being freshly mated and all.

Right on cue, a soft tugging comes from Eris’s end of the bond. I hesitate, but then match his little tug.

Not thirty seconds later, Eris winnows to a branch above me. First I feel his eyes on me, then hear a soft sigh, and then the shuffling of leaves as he climbs down to my level. He is wordless the whole time, slipping into my branch and sitting behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He tucks his head against my neck.

Equally silently, I reach back and stroke his hair.

We sit there, straddling this tree branch, for an incalculable period of time. It could have been two minutes, or two hours, I find myself genuinely unsure. 

Eris is the one to break the silence. “I’m sorry for causing you unneeded and unwarranted stress,” he mumbles against my skin. “I love you. So much. And I just want you safe… and happy. Even if that means that you accept Azriel, too.”

Sighing softly, I tilt my head to kiss his forehead. “I love you, too. And I know you do. I accept your apology wholeheartedly.”

He grins against my neck, gently biting my skin. “That’s good, because I wasn’t going to last the night without dragging you back to me by your hair.”

“By my hair?”

“Did I stutter?”

I laugh softly, gently taking his jaw in my hand. I tilt his head up to face me, then give him a long kiss.

Eris leans into it, pulling me closer. When we finally part, he murmurs against my cheek, “Four days, hm?”

“I came up with it on the spot… but yeah. Scores us four more days alone, and then I go to visit Azriel in an environment where you won’t be shooting him glares and scowls and rude little quips—”

“I was not the one making the rude little—”

“Eris.”

“Sorry, love.”

I turn to face him, my legs laying over his. We stare at each other for a very long time, before he smiles and kisses me softly. 

“You know, a lot can be done in four days,” he croons, rubbing my lower back, and then slipping his hand around to my front, over the seam of my trousers.

Whimpering, my head rests against his shoulder. “Eris… As much as I want it, my hips need a break,” I whine, though my body betrays me as heat pools under his touch.

“We don’t need to move your hips at all,” he soothes me, leaving gentle kisses along my neck as he palms me. “Let me take care of you, little flame.”

I open my mouth to, I don’t even know, object? But how could I say no to this, to the delicious sensation his hand is bringing me even through fabric? So instead, I nod, whimpering softly. “Please.”

With Eris and I temporarily gaining a break from the mating frenzy this morning, I had nearly forgotten the intense pull that builds in my abdomen now, the sharp need seeming to stem from my very soul, pulling me towards him — and dampening my underwear.

And so when his hand works its way into my trousers and breaches my folds, I breathe a heavy sigh of relief. Eris tugs me a little closer, so that our bodies are flush against each other, only his hand between us. His touch is gentle right now, thumb dancing circles around my clit and his pinky finger tentatively dipping inside of me. Even the light contact has my heart racing, blood thrumming in my ears.

“So wet for me, already,” he purrs, pushing in his ring finger as well, slowly thrusting in me out. His other hand holds me close as he speaks into my ear. “Such a good girl. My perfect little mate.”

My hips involuntarily buck forward as his thumb presses against that sensitive bundle of nerves, but his other hand grips my thigh tightly.

“Ah,” he growls, shaking his head. “You said your hips needed a break. So keep them still.”

He switches his pinky out for his middle and pointer fingers, slowly thrusting in and out, in and out.

My whimpers shift into moans, and I find myself biting his shoulder to muffle them. His fingers continue to work magic on me — indescribable, fiery magic. And soon, my abdomen begins to tense and flutter, and I murmur a quick, “please.”

“I know, love,” Eris whispers against my ear, quickening his pace. “I’ve got you. Let go.”

With a sharp cry, my release comes. Pleasure and pressure wash over me and up my spine, making me instinctually close my legs around the overstimulation at my apex. Panting, the sensation seems endless, until I manage to float back down to reality, immediately registering Eris’s voice.

“You look so pretty when you cum on my fingers,” he croons, kissing the shell of my ear. “So innocent.”

“Innocent?” I ask, raising a brow. “When I’m orgasmic and moaning, I look innocent?”

Eris grins, sneaking in a few kisses at my pulse point. “It’s hard to explain… but yes.”

I reach down, seizing his wrist and pulling his hand out of my panties. His fingers glisten with my slick, and without hesitation, I bring them into my mouth… and suck.

“Still innocent?” I speak around his fingers, allowing a soft moan to slip from my throat, gagging a little as my lips meet his palm. 

It’s hard to miss the tent that pops up under the fabric over his crotch.

He opens his mouth to speak, but the crunching of footsteps over leaves interrupts our peace.

Eris sighs heavily, retracting his fingers and fixing my trousers for me. I watch his deft fingers button and straighten my pants with lust-filled, hooded eyes, tongue flicking across my lips. He gives me a ‘wait a moment’ look, and then shifts his attention to the ground.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” He calls down.

My hand reaches for the button of his own slacks, but his fingers capture my wrist without even sparing me a glance.

Damn Fae instincts.

“Apologies, my lord,” a voice calls up — he has quite the regal tone, so perhaps a guard or even a low-ranking, attention-seeking courtier. “But Lord Lucien was looking for you — something about a starry mate matter? He was rather cryptic, my lord.”

Eris groans, leaning his head down to rest on my shoulder. He whispers, “It’s always him. Always.”

It takes me half a second longer to realize what that message means. It’s an Azriel matter. Of course it is. Azriel being my other mate has yet to be exactly… announced… so far, so Eris’s brothers and very few servants or guards know of the situation. It’s no surprise that Lucien is trying to be discreet.

“Tell him I’ll meet with him in just a moment,” Eris calls down, then looks at me and speaks in a hushed tone. “I’m sure he just wants to speak of your departure in four days — I informed him earlier. I’ll meet you in our rooms later.”

“Eris,” I whine, nipping his nose with a graze of my teeth. “Can’t you feel it? The bond is—”

“I know, my love,” he murmurs, capturing my chin between his forefinger and thumb. “And I will make it up to you tonight. I’ll even bring you those smutty little romance books you like and let you recreate a scene with me.”

That satiates me. “Really?” A smile spread across my lips, my posture straightening.

“Yes, really,” he grins, pecking each of my cheeks and then giving me a quick kiss on the lips. “Look forward to that.”

And with that, he leaps from the tree and disappears down the path.

“I’m bringing a hound?”

“Yes.”

“A hound? This is a stake of dominance if I’ve ever seen one.”

“It’s not just any hound,” Eris whines, gesturing to the blonde bitch at my feet, sitting at attention with her ears in the air. “She’s your favorite hound. You love her. You even sneak her extra treats.”

I roll my eyes, kneeling to stroke the dog. She leans into my touch only slightly, but remains at attention, ready to take orders. “Yeah, because look at her. She has the prettiest blue eyes. How could I say no to that face? Hmmmm? How could I say no to this sweet baby?” I nuzzle the hound’s ear, cooing to her. 

When I look back up, Eris is giving me his best puppy dog face. 

“Oh, come now,” I groan, giving his leg a light push. “I’m sure Azriel would not appreciate me bringing Kelpie, whether she’s your dog or mine — she’s still an Autumn Court hound.”

Eris shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “First of all, I’ll never get over you naming a bitch Kelpie. Secondly, I’m sure if you bat your eyelashes and ask nicely, you can bring her,” he raises a brow, “and I want you to please bring her.”

“Why?” I groan, standing once more and bracing my hands on my hips. “So that you know that I’m safe? I am perfectly capable of protecting myself better than a dog can.”

“It’s for my peace of mind,” he begs, stepping forward and tipping my chin up to look at him. “Please, little flame?”

“No.”

“……Please? For me?” Eris juts his bottom lip out, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

The four days left in Autumn have flown by, and Azriel will be here to pick me up any moment. Which perhaps, maybe, has me questioning my resolve on this matter. I know Azriel will let me bring Kelpie, but honestly it might end up feeling like Eris is watching me.

However, the face he’s making…

I groan heavily, eyes shuttering. “I really hate you, you know that?”

I can feel his grin as he kisses me, one hand sneaking around my waist. “That sounds like a concession, because you know you love me.”

Opening my eyes once more, I give his chest a gentle nudge. “I’ll bring the hound. But if I sense any funny business, and I mean any—”

“Yes, yes,” Eris smirks, patting my head, “you’ll have my ass. I know.”

“Damn right she will.”

I whirl around to find Azriel standing there, arms crossed across his leathered chest. 

“Right on time,” I say, with a glance to the clock. “I hope you don’t mind, but I wish to bring a dog from home. Just for comfort, you know?”

Azriel nods, striding to my side and kneeling to stroke the hound’s side. “That won’t be an issue. What’s her name?”

“Kelpie,” I say, patting her head.

Azriel pauses, and glances at Eris. “Did you…”

“She did,” the High Lord responds, gesturing to me. “And I will never understand why.”

“It’s a perfectly capable name!” I huff, crossing my arms. “You males are just too ridiculous to see the creativity in it.”

Azriel stands with a shrug, and then holds his arm out to me. “Are you ready to go?”

I give Eris a small smile as he hands me my bag, and I take it and Kelpie’s collar in one hand, taking Azriel’s arm with the other. Eris and I had said our goodbyes before Azriel had arrived, and before our hound discussion, so there’s no need for that now.

“Yes,” I reply.

And with that, we are enveloped in shadows.

Velaris is a beautiful city, and the place we are staying in is even more beautiful — they call it the House of Wind. 

However, on the topic of wind, I would have appreciated it more at first had someone, anyone, warned me that in winnowing in you have to either fly or drop the last few yards. 

When our winnow ended and I found myself midair and then suddenly in Azriel’s arms, shooting down onto the balcony, I was not pleased. Luckily, the Illyrian had the foresight to grab Kelpie, so she’s fine, but the whole experience was very jarring. 

“I would have appreciated a warning,” I had told him once we landed, holding a hand over my mouth to ease my queasiness.

“I didn’t think you’d be afraid of heights — I’m sorry, it’s so normal to me that I failed to even consider it,” he apologized over and over, placing a protective hand over my lower back.

“I am not afraid of heights, I am afraid of falling.”

That ended the conversation.

Which is why now I sit in the room they prepared for me, resting. Azriel thought it’d be best for me to be able to settle in a little bit before lunch, after which he’ll take me on a formal tour of the city, and then there will be a dinner at a dwelling known as The River House — Rhys has sent me paintings and descriptions of it times before, so that one isn’t new to me. I do still find it a tad bit curious that I was never informed of the existence of the Wind house, but I decided earlier not to ask.

There are a few extra tidbits I’ve learned about the building I sit in now: it can hear you and will do essentially anything you want, and it houses Cassian and a female named Nesta. I’ve been informed in past letters that she’s one of Feyre’s two elder sisters, along with Elain. I’ll be meeting her tonight, at dinner.

One thing I do know is that I like this place. I was told that the House itself arranged my room based on paintings and descriptions of me, and it’s done a fine job. A bookshelf lines an entire wall, filled with literature that, at a glance, seems to be precisely my type. It placed a knife under my pillow and on my nightstand, which is very typical ‘me’ behavior. When I first stepped in, a steaming cup of my favorite tea was placed on a desk, next to a book titled ‘Velaris: Myths and Lore of the City of Starlight.’

The house likes history.

Currently, I sit in a comfortable lounge chair, that book in my lap and tea in hand, reading up on my historical and mythological events.

I’ve been here for around an hour when the door swings open, revealing Azriel.

“Hi,” I say, closing my book. “Come to collect me?”

He gives me a quick once over, nodding. “If you’re feeling up to it.”

“Of course,” I reply, taking the final sip of my tea — but when I shift to put the items on a table, they vanish. “I must admit, that’s a tad unnerving.”

“You get used to it,” Azriel responds with a shrug, extending his arm. “Now, let me show you Velaris.”

“This time, I hope you’ll warn me before plummeting us to a certain doom,” I grin, taking his bicep gently.

He returns my grin with a wry smile of his own. “Only if I feel like it.”

Azriel’s tour of Velaris was exquisite. He showed me each quarter of the city, the squares for creative people, especially the musicians one — where I walked away a happy customer with a new, magic infused, harp cleaning cloth. Azriel carries it for me in a small paper box as we walk along the Sidra to our next destination: dinner.

“I hope you’re not too nervous,” Azriel starts, tensing a little at my side.

I raise a brow, a piece of hair falling over my temple. “Why would I be? I already know Rhys and Mor, and I’ve met Feyre and Cassian.”

He remains rigid, so I slow to a stop, tugging his elbow to turn him towards me. He says nothing, but does make eye contact.

He’s not exactly lying. But I do have the feeling that he’s omitting information. And as a spy, he must be rather good at it.

“What do I need to know, Azriel?”

A pause. The calculations passing through his mind are visible in his eyes, which sets me in an uneasy state. I find myself gripping his arm tightly now.

But the moment has been stretched out in my mind, because not even two seconds later, he replies. “There will be a couple extra people at the dinner. Their names are Gwyn and Emerie — Nesta’s friends.”

“Good. An imbalance leaning the female way is never a bad thing. Offsets you males and your volatile behaviors,” I laugh, my voice ringing through the air with the sound.

I’ve almost forgotten the way that he paused before he told me that. Like he was deciding what, exactly, to tell me.

Almost.

But when I open my mouth to inquire more, I find that we’re already on the gravel path leading up to the river house, so I snap my jaw shut and resolve that going in half-blind will be my fate.

The door swings open, and out comes Mor, who rushes over and sweeps me out of Azriel’s hold, ushering me into the house and buzzing like a bee. “Ah! I’m so glad you’re here — happy to have you back in the Night Court. Is this your first time in Velaris? Oooh, has Az shown you the city? I hope that—”

“Mor—” I cut in, to no avail.

“—he’s given a good tour; he misses all the great places. Did he show you Rita’s? We love that place! I heard you officially mated with Eris — uhm, good for you. What exactly are you doing here anyway? I thought you and the oh-so-mighty High Lord would still be in a little bubble, so I have to wonder— oh, hey, are you hungry? Since we made a—”

“Mor,” I successfully cut in, and she stops, looking over to be with a raised brow. “I’m happy to see you too. And I’m starving. So, lead the way to the food.”

A snort comes from behind me, undoubtedly Azriel. Mor nods and agrees however, placing a hand on my back and shepherding me towards the source of the food smell. 

I know that Cassian has joined Azriel behind me when the sound of wings colliding occurs, followed by hushed whispers.

But I’m distracted rather quickly as I’m led into the dining room, which is full and bustling with people, some that I recognize and some that I don’t.

I immediately spot Rhysand and Feyre, although they’ve spotted me first, judging by the dinner roll that’s hurtling towards my head. The first time I met Rhys, I defended myself by throwing a sandwich at him, so this has sort of become our tradition. My hand snaps out in front of me, catching the bread. I examine it, then take a bite. 

“First of all, are you ever going to get over this joke? Second of all, this is really good bread. Who made this?” I scarf down the food, walking over and taking a seat to Rhys’s left, Feyre already on his right. Azriel quickly takes the seat next to me.

A petite female across the table warily raises her hand. “Oh, I did. I baked the bread,” she explains. Her voice sounds like falling rose petals on a warm autumn day, and gives off the scent of lavender and honey.

“Hi,” I smile to ease her obvious nerves, holding my hand out. I introduce myself, and she shakes my hand.

“Oh, this is Elain, my sister,” Feyre cuts in, gesturing to the brunette across from us. 

“Ah, yes — I’ve heard from the letters.”

“Lovely to meet you, then,” Elain adds, smiling softly. Then her eyes flick to Azriel, her cheeks color, and she looks back to me. “You must be… Azriel’s.. friend? I was told you were visiting.”

My eyebrows draw together, and I glance at Azriel, and then back to Elain. I open my mouth to ask why she’s being so weird about the fact that I’m his mate, but then I realize the way she’s openly biting her cheek and stealing glances at the Illyrian by my side. It’s suddenly abundantly clear; either she has a thing for Azriel, or they have some sort of past.

Don’t let it bother you.

But it does. Just a little. Tiny bit. I shut my mouth, as the table fills in, every seat being filled.

Introductions go around, and I memorize each face and name. It goes: Elain, three females named Gwyneth, Emerie, and Nesta, and then Cassian. On the far end of my side of the table sits Amren, who gives me a slightly frightening grin.

I note that Gwyneth, or as everyone calls her, Gwyn, is charming and witty, paired with a wall-shaking enthusiasm. I quickly learn that she works in the library, so this must be an important form of socialization.

Emerie is nice, as far as I can tell, definitely headstrong and bold. She has an obviously strong form, but I don’t miss the way that her wings seem to sag a little behind her.

I’m halfway through my assessment of Nesta (sharp-tongued, sarcastic, and moderately unapproachable) when a macaron lands on the edge of my plate. I glance over to find Azriel watching me. 

“Oh, thank you,” I murmur, starting to pile food onto my plate. “Sorry, I was a little distracted.”

Azriel leans over, speaking into my ear, his breath tickling my skin and rustling my hair. “You weren’t distracted. You were analyzing.”

“Perhaps,” I shrug, a little smirk curling on my lips.

“I do it too. It’s just easier when you have shadows that are whispering all that you need or want to know,” he murmurs back, then leans away and starts piling food onto his own plate.

Five minutes pass easily of good food and easy conversation… and not one, but two females making eyes at Azriel. 

Elain is the most obvious about it — blushing and batting her eyelashes and aiming to brush her hand against Azriel’s by reaching for a dish at the same time as him. Thank the Mother, Azriel is mainly unaffected. In fact, his end of the bond shows affection for her, but no romantic feelings whatsoever… at least not right now.

Gwyn is the other, but she’s sneaky. More just making jokes and smiling at him than anything else, though I caught her staring at him a couple times.

Am I a little tiny bit uncomfortable? Yes.

But mostly shocked at how bold these females are. After all, his mate is sitting right next to him, right at their table.

I recite to myself: Don’t let it bother you. You and Azriel are hardly anything anyway.

Hardly anything.

“So,” Amren starts, leaning forward to bore her angular silver eyes into me. “Is someone else going to say it, or am I?”

Elain looks over at the female through her lashes, blinking in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Nesta rolls her eyes, immediately jumping on Amren’s train of thought. But then she points at me, and my heart falters. “This. Her,” Nesta says, smirking. “Why, exactly, is Eris’s mate in Velaris, with Azriel?”

Rhys raises a brow. “You two are so strange. Mor and I have known her for centuries — she’s always welcome to visit.”

Cassian gives Azriel an amused look, like he’s thoroughly enjoying the situation. He raises his wine glass in a ‘good luck’ fashion. But I’m just confused.

All of the people at the table are looking at us, with a range of expressions. Some are questioning, or confused, others looking to us for confirmation on Rhys’s claim.

And then it hits me.

Oh, shit.

They don’t know.

No one here except for Azriel, Cassian, and me knows.

They don’t know that I am Azriel’s mate.

Oh, shit.

Tags: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @5moremin @azriels-mate123 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @nightless @the-sweet-psycho @mali22 @bubybubsters @hannzoaks @menagerofmischief @theviewfromtheotherside

To be added to the tag list, comment and ask! If I missed you in the tags, please let me know.

[thatmadshifter11]

The Shadowsinger and The Mistress of Love and Lust

Mate.

I could feel the nightmare in me growl at the word but the dreamer in me smiled softly and shed tears of genuine happiness. I felt like I was drowning in an ocean of glass.

Mate. Mate. Mate. Mate.

Then all I felt was pain.

My wings- the pain- my wings.

My wings are gone.

I wince. How can I feel pain in my wings? Suddenly I’m being swarmed by shadows-his shadows-Azriel! They circle me whispering softly, touching me lightly.

He needs you. He's in pain. Help him.

They call to me, the pain in m-his wings keeps growing stronger. I don't question how they found me or how they spoke to me, all I can think is save Az.

I vacate my post at the healing tent and leave my assistant Lily in charge. I set out to find Azr-my mate. I see my brother and Cassian, they both seem tense and it worries me. I have been cooped up in the healing tent and haven't heard about anything pertaining to the war other than healing the soldiers and warriors injuries. I walk towards the two illyrians trying to tap into the power to summon my wings.

Hot searing pain floods the bond and I drop to my knees unable to summon my wings or my battle fan. I sink lower as I feel the shooting pain in my ankle and the sharp stabbing pains still in m-his wings. I am going to murder whoever hurt Azriel- My Azriel.

Cassian rushes towards me spitting curses as he grabs my arm trying to help me up.  I give him a vulgar gesture and I call him things a High Lady shouldn’t even be able to think of. I yank my arm away and stand up slightly dizzy and nauseous. I catch myself on Cassian as I hear the faint sound of my brother laughing.

“Oh shut it Rhys” I say one hand on my hip the other leaning on Cass to stay balanced. “I was looking for Az but this fucking oaf got in the way,” I jab a finger in Cass’ chest. Cass looks at me with a snarl. I laugh as does Rhysand. “Well sister if your looking for him he should be flying back soon I have been awaiting his and Feyre’s return from rescuing Elain.” I smile knowing he should return, but then I remember the pain and the bond. “H-he's hurt brother like big time,” Rhys looks alarmed. “How do you know? And what happened” he asked, dragging me toward a group of chairs, Cassian following behind us.

"I felt it through our bond, a mating bond," I reply, wincing at the fresh wave of pain that surges through me. "His wings, they're damaged, and I think his ankle too. I need to find him, now."

Without waiting for their response, I push myself off the chair and start heading towards the direction the shadows came from. Every step feels like a dagger in my heart as I can sense Azriel's agony echoing down our bond. I almost stumble, but I steel myself and keep moving. I can't afford to falter now. My vision blurs, but I blink away the tears, focusing only on the path ahead./As I reach the spot where I had found the two stubborn Illyrians I see a shadowy figure in the distance. He drops quickly landing harshly groaning in pain. His wings, his glorious beautiful wings all torn and bloody filled with arrows I can only assume are ash arrows.

"Azriel," I call out, my voice breaking. I rush towards him, dread pooling in my stomach. He looks up, his eyes filled with pain but also relief at seeing me. I reach out to touch him but he winces, pulling away slightly. "I'm here, Az," I whisper, trying to assure him that he's safe now.

“Mate,” he growls at me in a sadder tone then his usual mocking raspy voice. “Yes, yes Mate, but for now lets get you healed alright?” He huffs which I can only assume is an answer to my question so I take it as one.

His eyes, usually so lively and watchful catching every slight move, are dulled by pain. Seeing him like this breaks my heart into a million pieces, but I swallow down the lump in my throat. I need to be strong for him.

Pt.2 link: https://www.tumblr.com/thatmadshifter11/748248818969198592/the-shadowsinger-and-the-mistress-of-love-and-lust?source=share

[thelov3lybookworm]

Journals

Summary: everyone is happy

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: heavyyyy angst, sad lil fic (literally what i named this before i came up with a title), mental health issues, depression, feeling unworthy of love, panic attack, self harm, self hate. thats all i can think of right now, but let me know if i need to add anything

A/n: based on this and this poetry by @gardenofrunar 🤭 you couldnt tell it was me could you pookie?

also, there is not really a bat boy our reader is supposed to be with, so im tagging this as all three of them. there will most probably not be a second part to this, but still, lemme know hat you all think

AND, im not trying to glorify what reader is going through in this fic. if you are going through something, please talk to someone. you are not alone, my loves ❣️

anyways, enjoyyyy!!

It was happening again.

The breathlessness was starting to creep up again on her.

And the worst part wasn't the fact that she felt like she was dying.

It was that she was alone. Again.

No one was coming. No one cared. No one would even realise she was gone until it was too late, and maybe that was a miracle.

Click.

The haze cleared slightly, and gasping for breath, Y/n stood, somehow making it to the stairs leading to her bedroom before her lungs constricted again.

She had no other option as she crumbled on the stairs, the hard wood digging into her sides and thighs.

She could not breathe.

She could not think.

She could not move.

She could not breathe.

A cruel laugh broke through her consciousness, the sound so familiar yet so foreign, Y/n could not help but sob.

You deserve this.

Azriel. It was him, no doubt. But the longer she sat there, other voices started joining in.

First Cassian. Then Mor, Rhysand. Amren.

Feyre, Nesta. Elain.

"Stop." She whispered, her hands shaking as she rose them to her ears, pressing as hard as she could. But no matter how much she tried to ignore it, the clearer the words became.

You deserve this.

You don't deserve us.

It's your own fault.

In an attempt to get away, to get some peace and quiet, she reached out, clutching the stair. The wood grains whispered against her palm, their sound lost to ears filled with taunts and laughter.

Still, she dug in her fingers, her nails screaming in protest, her heart yelling back in a horrific screech, beating loud enough to almost drown out her family.

Almost.

Pulling herself up, she reached out her hand, ignoring the pain as she did her best to haul her dysfunctional body up the hard terrain, trying to make it to her bed before she lost herself fully to the dark depths of her mind, losing all sense of her being.

Somehow, having no recollection of the climb, Y/n collapsed at the landing, her breathing erratic as she stared at the blurry paintings on the wall, gifted to her by Rhysand's mate.

Had they always been this blurry?

In the back of her mind, she realised that they were never blurry. There were just tears in her eyes, but she didn't think too much about that as she crawled forward, miraculously crossing the threshold to her room, the familiar smell of flowers Elain had gifted her last week pulling her out of her misery for a moment, enough to let her get up and stumble into the plush material of her bed before tears again erupted in her eyes.

They then came back, screaming in her ears about how much of a disappointment she was, how she deserved no happiness.

And she agreed with them.

But still, it hurt her heart to hear the people she cared for voice thoughts she only limited to the darkness of night, under the gentle presence of the moonlight.

You don't deserve happiness.

She knew the inevitable onslaught of her self hatred was about to break over her head, knew it was unavoidable and would probably have her moping for days.

Her mind started wandering, which in itself was alarming because as much as she wanted to stop thinking about her miserable life, she knew that any and all thoughts she had at these times would only work against her.

Rhys's tear stained cheeks, his bloodshot eyes and his quiet sobs as he clutched Y/n's hands between both of his, Y/n's soft cooing as she tried her best to soothe his wounds after his mother and sister's death.

As she held him after his return from under the mountain.

This was going to be a long night, she was sure.

Cassian's grumpy self refusing to eat after one of the Illyrians had again bullied him for not being good enough. Y/n's cheeks aching from how hard she was trying not to smile as she tried to convince the overgrown illyrian to eat something.

Azriel's shaky hands as she held onto him after a particularly bad nightmare that usually started keeping him up around the time his hands were burned, the anniversary o the time where an innocent little boy realised that the world was filled with cruelty.

Y/n being the first one to find out about Mor's liking in women and helping her sneak out to meet her lovers.

Y/n dragging gallons of fresh blood to Amren's apartment under the cover of the night when she knew the ancient being hadn't had the time to feast.

Her hands scrambled to find something to tether herself to, to remind her that this was not real and that it would pass. That her family did love her, and that they would never hurt her or want her to think this way of herself.

They would never hurt her the way she hurt herself.

They just wouldn't... would they?

Rhys's wide smile as he admired his mate while she spoke to a grinning Cassian, who in turn turned to Azriel to tease the blushing Illyrian. Mor, giggling over her glass of wine as she mumbled something to Elain, Nesta and Amren conversing in hushed tones next to the window, happiness shining on both their faces.

And Y/n watched on, huddled in her own little corner as she gulped down another glass of champagne, trying to focus on the burn in her throat as the liquor travelled down. Trying not to think of the way her breathing started coming in shorter pants, her lungs constricting in the too small rib cage that were set on killing her.

Trying to ignore the tang of copper in her mouth as she bit her own tongue, not wanting to speak and draw attention to herself, to ask for help because she was too unused to suffering in silence. Her family had always been there, and she had never had to go even a day without their constant nagging. She always had at least one of them guiding her through the worst of her days.

Trying not to think of how no one even glanced up as she exited the room, tears prickling her eyes, feeling like she was nothing but an intruder, watching from outside the warmth of the house, standing knee deep in the cold snow as she tried her best to keep warm by looking at the happy faces of her family, no matter how much she was freezing on the inside.

Her fingers curled around the lumpy material of her comforter, and she pushed forward, trying to ignore the tears that rolled down her warm cheeks and buried her head in the soft fabric.

And then let out the ear piercing scream she had been holding in, uncaring that she had let down the sound shield around her room.

She knew no one was around to hear.

She knew no one would come.

They were all too happy to worry.

Her stomach was grumbling, and she was glad it was because otherwise it would've been the cause for concern, considering she hadn't eaten in almost a day.

She was still so tired and wanted to do nothing but lay in bed all day and cry, but she needed to eat too.

And so here she was, chopping up some vegetables in a daze, not really paying attention despite wanting to focus on something that took her mind off of her thoughts.

It was not easy to stop thinking, so when suddenly the fog in her mind cleared, she glanced down.

The red of her blood was bright, and the longer she stared, the quicker the pain came, but it was only a tiny sting, nothing more than the bite of an ant in the shape of a knife.

She stared, and stared.

And then, she lifted her eyes, her gaze settling on her dagger, unprompted.

She smiled.

Writing was one of the parts of Y/n's responsibilities. Writing a letter to help the relations between the courts. A report for the high lord.

It was one of the things that broke her out of her own mind's torture, one of the things that made her feel like she wasn't entirely useless.

So here she was, just scribbling away senseless words in her journal, knowing she would hide it away before anyone saw it. Saw the blood stains.

For the first time in weeks, she was smiling, no tears to be found in her eyes as she lay on her stomach on the bed, her legs in the air behind her as she began doodling little flowers in the corner of the page, her inkpot next to her and her dagger in her other hand.

She went to dip in her feather pen in the ink, frowning a little as it created spots of ink on the crumpled paper, mixing with the dark red liquid that still dripped slowly from her fingers, little rivulets running down from her wrist.

As she continued, a tap on her mental walls had her pausing, and after a brief conversation with Rhys, she got up, closing her journal and beginning to clean the cuts on her wrist and around the journal and then donning a flowy, simple white gown.

It wasn't long before a knock sounded at her door, and she hurried to open it to find Cassian standing on her front porch, smiling.

"Hey Y/n, Rhys asked me to pick you up-"

Y/n nodded. "Yes I know, let me just grab my things and then we can go."

He shrugged, leaning against the doorframe.

She ran up the stairs and to her bedroom, grabbing the little bag she had put all her pens and previous reports into, deciding to carry them with her just in case.

She hurried back out within a few moments, but she saw that Cassian had moved, standing near the gates. Which was suspicious, but not too alarming as she stepped onto the porch.

"Let's go."

Before she shut the door Y/n turned and glanced around the house for the last time. Why, she didn't know. But she couldn't shake the feeling in her gut that something was wrong.

And she had known to always trust her gut.

But she turned around, locking the door before leaving.

Not realising her journal was missing from the table.

"I really don't want to pressure you too much Y/n, so if you don't want to be a part of this research, I understand-"

"Rhys, this is no burden. I'm actually honoured you even considered me for this project."

His brows furrowed, his smile turning confused. "What are you talking about Y/n? You're one of the smartest people I know. Of course you are included-" he trailed off, his eyes filling with understanding. "How have you been Y/n?"

Y/n blinked, pretending not to understand what he meant by that. Of course Rhys knew she struggled with feeling worthy of her family, and of course he made that connection.

"I've been good, Rhys." Y/n mumbled, an easy grin on her face as if Rhys's concern was ridiculous.

"Have you had any recent episodes-"

"Guess what I found!"

He paused, both their heads turning to where Cassian's booming voice floated through the cracked door.

Y/n's whole body ran cold, and before she could even question the reaction of her body to something that wouldn't have concerned her before, she was stumbling out the door, following Cassian's voice to the sitting room, where everyone else was gathered.

Cassian was grinning as he explained to them how he had gone to pick Y/n's up from her house, and how he found-

Her secret diary.

Y/n's eyes widened, her legs refusing to move as her gaze locked on the book Cassian held in his hand.

"Oh, look, she's here too!" He turned to her, his expression carefree and inviting. "Never knew you had a diary Y/n. What will I find if I read through it? Your secret lover's name? His-"

"Cass." Y/n warned, finally getting herself to move forward as he danced back, his hands beginning to crack open the book.

"Will I find your secret fantasies-"

He stopped dead in his tracks, all the emotions gone from his face as he stared at the page he had opened, his features hard. Y/n waited with bated breath, her head turning to gauge everyone's reaction.

Mor sat with Nyx in her lap, bouncing him as she glanced between Y/n and Cassian. Feyre and Azriel exchanged confused glances before Azriel stood, stalking towards Cass.

Panicked, Y/n jumped forward, but before her hand could wrap around her journal, he pulled away, face pale.

"What is this?"

"None of your business."

Azriel had stopped, his eyes wide as he stared at Y/n.

That's when Y/n realised he had smelled the blood she left on the pages.

Damn it.

Y/n stepped back towards the exit as she felt all the eyes on her, panic starting to dig its claws in her gut and begin its ascent up her throat as the shadows curled around Azriel's ear and his eyes went to her wrist, covered by the long sleeves of her dress.

Y/n turned to find Rhys standing in the doorway, his eyes filled with tears.

"Why?"

She glanced once at everyone, tears starting to fill her own eyes, her face flushing in embarrassment, mad that she had started crying over nothing, and pushed past Rhys, running towards the front door.

"Y/n!"

They will be mad.

You deserve it.

Y/n fled the river house, ignoring the concerned looks thrown her way by the people on the streets as she ran straight to her house.

They hate you.

The door slammed shut behind her as she leaned against it, gasping for breath as her lungs started contracting painfully, refusing to let her breathe.

The breathlessness was starting to creep up again on her.

It was happening again.

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria

@girlswithimagination @gardenofrunar @girlswithimagination @sunnyspycat

@artists-ally @riddlesb1tch @milswrites @berryzxx

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

@stqrgirlies-blog @tele86 @bakananya @xyzmeh

@st4r-girl-official @caraaaaugh @nacho-nat @allllium

@fandomarchiveilyd @nickishadow139

Cassian Taglist: @moonlwghts @samslittlespoon @nickishadow139

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our Girl – Part 8

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader

Summary: Azriel and Cassian fight to rescue you from Beron's lair.

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Violence, torture, blood

<<&lt; Part 7 | Part 9 >>>

Cassian revelled in the warmth of the guards blood on his hands.

Never before had he considered the sensation a pleasant one - he was always focused on the next kill, defeating the enemies that followed, winning the war. But killing his way through Beron’s guards to find you? It released some sort of primal desire, as if it pleased the Gods. 

He was snarling as he plowed his way through, unnatural strength driving his bare fist straight through chests, hearts ripped from their cavities. 

He could hear Azriel’s growls amongst the clang of swords meeting, of armour being punctured and thuds of bodies dropping, one by one. Azriel’s urges matched his own, melding together, stronger as one entity instead of two. The males weren’t High Lords, but this was their beast form. They would slaughter their way to you, pile the bodies as high as any beast to get to their mate.

It was unfair really, for Beron to have convinced his guards they stood a chance, even without knowing of the innate itch to kill irked by the bond. After a short fight, Cassian and Azriel - now dripping with sweat and blood - cornered the last of the guards, prowling with lethal rage. 

“P-please, it was B-Beron, he ordered us to-"

If the male hadn't died from the blow as his head hit stone, Cassian was sure to choke the last of his breaths with a lethal grip at his neck, holding him up against the wall as the rest of his body slagged with lifeless form.

Bursting through another door, Cassian and Azriel flew down the winding staircase at a godly speed. No longer were your panicked calls concealed under layers of ground and iron – your shrill cries suddenly so loud they pierced your mate’s minds, hands flying to their ears in hopes to shield them. 

You were here, they had found you.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, a long corridor of cells beheld them, the bond pulling them towards a cell they could not yet see. 

Wait! Your voice rang in their ears, laced with distress that fuelled their wild hearts. Wait! If he knows you are hear, he’ll kill me. Don’t-

Beyond words, Azriel sent a wave of reassurance down the bond, as he concealed himself and Cassian in shadows, sending some sprawling on the ground, racing ahead to find you with lethal stealth.

Silently, they moved further into the dungeon, stopping briefly to observe a weeping women in her own cell, bright auburn hair cast down her back as she wept into her arms. Serafina seemed unharmed for the most part, and Cassian sent a mental image to Rhys, ensuring Hellion his mate was here and alive. 

As Cassian and Azriel reached the end of the winding row of cells, they halted at the sight before them. A frightening cold seized their muscles, and hands raised to shield their eyes at the blinding silver light flickering from your cell. 

There you were, bound to a slab, sword pierced at your heart.

Veins pulsed against muscles, their fists shaking with adrenaline as they stalked closer for the kill. Beron was speaking, but neither of them could hear past the roar in their ears.

Before they could charge to tear down those iron gates and free you, Beron’s hands were at the hilt of the sword, and then he was pushing, severing the bond yet again. 

————

You know they were here – from the way your heart swelled and the bond ignited, a frayed rope pulling tight after being left slack for so long. But it was an instinct you could not let on with Beron so close – your only hope was that they heard you warning. 

Beron had grown dangerously impatient, not knowing the bond would fight back.

“This is taking too long, Y/N,” he roared, pacing as he ran shaking hands down his face, sweat sliding down his neck. “You will give me what I want!”

“F-fuck you,” you managed to cough out, chest heaving with short breaths as you tried not to deepen your wound with the sword at your chest. 

Beron snarled as he stepped towards you. “Give up Y/N. Give in.”

You didn't have a chance to bark a warning to your mates as Beron forced the rapier further into your heart. 

————

Azriel and Cassian fell to the ground – that slicing, searing pain sending them slack, unable to breath as they grabbed at their chests. 

Blood and spit passed through clenched teeth as it took all they had not to make any noise, to join you in the one freedom of screaming in pain. But they had to stay silent, to stay hidden. For you, they would embrace agony. 

————

It was an odd clarity, to smell your mates in that moment. 

They were closer now, only a few paces from your cell. You had to endure this next insertion, to give them a fighting chance. So you clenched your teeth, your cry of pain turning to a furious growl as you called for your heart to resist and fight and survive. 

Beron was thrown back at a sudden wave of magic pushed from your chest, the bond forcing the weapon clean from your heart entirely. It almost killed you, that pain, and you heaved against your restraints as Beron’s back smashed into the iron gates of your cell, weapon clanking to the ground. 

Beron pulled blood-stained fingers from the back of his head, eyes raising to you in murderous rage. “You bitch! How dare-"

Beron’s words were clipped, his eyes suddenly turning wide. He tried again – to speak, to breath, chocking against an invisible threat. Vision reeling as you danced with death, you had missed the shadow that had seeped past the gates, snaking through Beron’s nose and cutting off his air supply. 

Scarred hands snatched through the gates then, one around Beron’s neck, the other around his abdomen, forcing his against the cell door as he choked. 

Your cry of relief was a stangled, raspy thing. Cassian - twined in red, pulsing magic - ripped open the door to your cell, the warmth of his hands a sensation you would never forget. 

“Cass-" you strained, tears pouring as you cried weakly. 

“My girl, my girl,” he cooed as he caressed your head, panicked by the blood spilling from your chest as trembling hands moved to press at your wound. 

With Cassian’s large form in front, you only saw the outskirts of a blinding flash of silver that threw him from you, crashing him into the wall with a groan. 

Beron stood before you, eyes glowing with other-worldly light, laps of silver death consuming him. 

In an instant winnow, Azriel was beside Beron, Truthteller swishing fiercely, aimed directly for his neck.

Another pulse of silver, and Azriel was thrown against the opposite wall.

Beron was panting, fingers twitching and silver coursed at his frame. He had given in entirely, his sanity, his very soul lost to that power. He had become death itself. 

As if like called to like, the sword flew from the ground to find home in his hand. 

Beron’s growl was a deep, demonic thing. “I suppose I’ll kill all three of you now.” 

Azriel still lay on the ground, wings sprawled from his back, and Beron raised that awful sword, knowing exactly where to strike. 

It was a honing, almost peaceful moment to know you would do anything to stop from Beron harming your mate’s wings. It was as if the Mother spoke to you directly, welcoming you to her pool of magic, letting you drink generously as she raised the cup to your lips. 

You took what you needed, using her strength, your eyes alight with brilliant yellow. Your magic, untrained and undefined, blasted through the entire cell, igniting the room with a brilliant zap. 

All three males yelped with pain, metal surfaces now alive as your current zapped and moved between then. 

Your magic, powerful and brilliant, caused Beron to jolt still. He turned with an eery slowness - and instead stalked towards you, marking his next kill and leaving Azriel weak on the ground. 

Good, this was good. The innate selflessness to ensure Azriel's safety was instinct, and you would die with content knowing you had done all in your power. In these final moments, as death prowled closer, you understood you would die for your mates, just as they would for you.

But there was more hope to be found in that cell than you realised – because your magic thrummed with life, a gift from the Mother herself. And as your surroundings continued to zap and dance with your power – Beron was ignorant to how it weakened him, raising slow, shaky arms to land the sword at your neck. 

Azriel and Cassian were on Beron before he could have hoped to make the blow. There was a flurry of red and blue, fists flying and a series of growls, the world slipping further away as your vision blurred from blood loss. 

You weren't sure if you had dreamt it, but you could have sworn the entire bracket of iron bars was ripped from the hinges of your cell, revealing Rhys and Feyre.

Flashes of star-speckled black, and then warm hands were pushing at your chest. 

“Rhys!” Feyre called, her hand pressing harder, pushing a silent yelp from you. “Rhys, my magic isn't strong enough to stop the bleeding!”

Your head was lolling, your mind screaming at you to hold on just a little bit longer. And then there were two sets of hands, violet and grey eyes panicked as they poured healing magic into you, flooding you with warmth.

From the other side of your cell, Beron was weakening in his fight, his magic at odds with Azriel and Cassian’s. In a swift manoeuvre, Azriel grappled the male, forcing his hands behind his back. Cassian was in front of him then, shoving him to his knees, readying to snap his neck with his bare hands. 

Both of them panted, bearing the pain of your magic that flooded the room, delighting in what every instinct begged for them to do. 

“Wait!”

The males froze, turning to you. 

“Wait, don’t kill him,” you rasped. 

They stopped. 

“My love?” Azriel all but growled. 

“He killed Lucien,” your words were just above a whisper, and you felt Feyre’s hands drop from you. “He killed Lucien, as has kept the Lady of Autumn prisoner. They-they deserve a trial. They deserve to see him pay for all of his crimes.”

“What did you say?” Feyre’s voice was small, her arms slackened at her sides. You could offer no comfort in your state, blinking with a furious attempt to stay awake.

Azriel and Cassian exchanged a look, before nodding to you. Cassian drew his fist back, before landing a blow to Beron’s face, with only enough strength to render him unconscious. 

Shackles were ripped from you, and then hands - their hands - were everywhere, their lips too. Holding you, kissing you, rocking you as you wept at their touch. You were beyond grief and sadness in that moment – cries of relief went muffled as Azriel and Cassian held you up as you clung at them and just sobbed. The bond pulsed at the proximity, and you used the little strength you had to hold them both tighter, imprinting their scents to memory. You relished in the safety of their embrace as they cried with you, kissing you, checking you for more injuries as you healed slowly, swearing they would never let you go and that they were so, so sorry. 

The moments that followed were a blur. 

Illyrian soldiers flooded the dungeons, dragging Beron’s body with careful handling of the sword. Feyre’s cries were a sorrow sound, Rhys’s arms around her as she wept at the loss of her friend. You hated to have bared the news of Lucien's sacrifice, and to have to inflict the same pain on Tamlin. 

Oh gods, Tamlin.

“T-Tam-?” you gasped between sobs. 

Rhysand’s eyes were heavy, but fond as he smiled brokenly. “He was still fighting alongside the Illyrians when we entered. But he is safe.”

Your heart swelled at the bravery of your friend, and you wouldn't let yourself think about the damn battle that had erupted above your head.

Your hands shook then, knees buckling as the weight of the events caught up with you. A scarred hand rubbed at your back.

“You’re safe, my love, rest now.”

“Serafina–"

“Is with Helion. Everyone is safe my girl. You can let go now,” Cassian added, cupping your face.

It was the sweetest of lullabies you had ever heard, and now finally at peace, you gave into the exhaustion, falling into a safe slumber in the arms of your mates.

————

You were not alone when you woke.

Acutely aware of the soft snores of Cassian and Azriel, their deep breathing a song of its own as you came to in what felt like days. 

Cassian’s head was in your lap, face down as locks of chestnut hair mopped outwards, your hand held limply in his. 

Azriel slept upright, slumped against the postings of your bed, scarred hand upturned where your other hand lay in his, shadows gently caressing your side. 

A snort of laughter escaped you. 

It was a raspy, broken sound with no voice beneath it, but the movements of your chuckle rocked the bed gently as you indulged in the comical sight of your mates that had fallen asleep in such a way.

You wondered if their necks hurt as much as you hurt all over. 

Cassian's hand tightened around yours on instinct as he stirred.

A scarred hand touched your jaw, gently coaching your eyes to find Azriel beaming down at you with a soft smile, dark lashes still blinking from sleep. “You’re awake.”

Cassian squeezed your hand, his head turned to face you from where he still lay in your lap. “Hello, love.”

Your lip quivered, and then you laughed again, overcome with an intense amount of gratitude, hopefulness and glee. With a hoarse voice you were able to speak through your tear stained smile.

“My mates.”

--------

Part 9>>>

AN: Oh my gosshhhhh thank you for reading Part 8 of Our Girl!!! I so so hope you enjoyed it!! And can I tell you - to have these 3 properly reunited has genuinely warmed my heart while writing. I think I got really bogged down in the angst - which I love - but I'm warmed by building to this happy ending. There will be one more part of Our Girl – it will explore the events following the reader's rescue, and also another time-jump, maybe a certain special event?? The reader's mission work is definitely not forgotten either - it will play a vital role in how the story ends. I always want to hear your thoughts and feelings - I actually can't believe we're close to the end 6 months later! Damn I really dragged this one out... sorry friends. Comment if you want to join my general tag list, and please take care. MWA!!

[witchysquirrel]

Epiphany

Chapter Fourteen

WARNING: SMUT AHEAD. PROCEED AT UR OWN RISK. 18+. ENJOY.

Cassian pulled her in by the waist, leaning down to press his lips to hers, gently at first. Ravenna let the scent of him overwhelm her, the feeling that grew inside her chest only continuing to expand until she was falling headfirst into it. She felt like she was floating, melting into the feeling of Cassian’s lips on hers, their breath mixing as their kiss deepened. The sounds of Rita’s became a distant pounding in Ravenna’s ears as Cassian walked them backwards until her back was pressed to the wall. He leaned one hand against the wall above her, his other still gripping her waist, suspending her where he wanted her. 

She pulled back for a moment to look up at her mate, catching her breath. Cassian looked beautiful standing over her, wings spread wide behind him. His pupils were blown, lips swollen and pink. 

Cassian could hardly contain himself, looking down at her as she breathed. It had been hard enough for him to resist Ravenna before, but now he’d deem it nearly impossible. He was quite sure that if she touched his wings now, he wouldn’t have nearly the restraint he’d had when she’d done his dressing changes. Her cheeks were flushed, contrasting against the dark hair that framed her face. “You look so beautiful right now,” he breathed, eyes flashing down to her lips before returning to her eyes. 

She flushed again. “Should we go somewhere else?”

“We could,” Cassian answered, looking around. “If you think we can wait that long.”

Ravenna bit her cheek, sure she was probably still blushing. She took Cassian’s hand in hers, leading him to the bathroom in the very back hallway, closing and locking the door behind them. “I put a glamour on the bathroom door,” she said. “It doesn’t exist anymore.”

A proud smile grew on his face. “So smart,” he told her, burying his face in her neck. She giggled, shivering at the feeling of his lips under her ear. When he decided he’d sufficiently covered her neck, he took her in his arms again and kissed her, a passionate kiss, with her hands twisting in his hair. Cassian’s hands found her waist, and he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around him comfortably, lips still connected. He walked them to the marble bathroom countertop, depositing Ravenna on top, in the space next to the sink. 

Cassian stood between her legs, hands roving her hips and thighs. Ravenna was above him now, and took his face in her hands as they kissed. She paused briefly, fingering the hem of his shirt. He raised his arms, and she helped him remove his shirt over his wings, revealing a broad chest and toned stomach. She pulled him back in, hands running down the strong lines carved into his stomach. Her fingers traced the lines that lead down his stomach into his pants, stopping at his belt line. He groaned against her, leaning into her further as her hands traveled back up his chest, around to his back and shoulders. 

Her touch was light, nimble hands familiar, and Cassian couldn’t believe he’d held himself together during all of those wound care sessions. He couldn’t help himself from gripping her thighs as he leaned in to nip at her throat again. As he worked his way down, she let him guide her sleeves off of her shoulders until her bare chest was exposed for him. He stood back, nearly drooling as he marveled at her pale skin and the fullness of her breasts, the way she looked up at him expectantly. 

Ravenna could feel the wetness pooling at her core, from the way Cassian was looking at her alone. He kissed down her chest, licking and sucking at her skin as he went, and she let a moan slip out when he took her nipple into his mouth. Cassian handled her gently, but with intention, humming against her skin in response to the sounds she made. Ravenna looked down at him, raking her fingers through his dark hair. Her mate. 

Cassian’s right hand found the hem of her dress and dragged it upwards against her thigh, until it was hiked up on one side and he could slip his hand beneath the skirt. Ravenna gasped as his fingers found her underwear and pulled them aside easily, just barely grazing her where she was most sensitive. She shivered in response, and he detached himself from her chest, towering over her on the counter as he dipped his middle finger into her. Cassian stiffened at the scent of her arousal that now filled the room. 

“Already so wet for me,” he purred into her ear. “Do I really have that much of an effect on you?” 

Ravenna nodded slowly, lips parted as he removed his fingers. He held eye contact with her as he knelt before her, hiking the rest of her dress up to where it bunched at her waist. She helped him, holding the skirt out of his way, opening her legs for him. He pressed light kisses all the way up her inner thighs, until her scent was so close that he couldn’t possibly hold back any longer. Cassian practically tore her underwear off, discarding them to the floor and pulling her hips forward. He sighed happily at the taste of her as he buried his tongue into her, holding her hips down as she bucked against him in pleasure. 

“Cassian,” she panted, locking her hands in his hair, pulling his head closer to her. Ravenna watched him between her legs, lapping messily. Cassian enjoyed it just as much as she did, his tongue driving whimpers and moans out of her until her eyes were squeezed shut with pleasure. He loved the taste of her in his mouth, the warmth of her body so close to his face. He especially liked the way she’d breathed his name, her grip on his hair growing tighter the more he pleasured her. 

“Oh my gods,” she whined. “You’re going to make me cum.” Cassian groaned against her clit, but Ravenna gasped at the loss of contact when he removed himself and rose to stand again. He took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, making her taste her own sweetness. 

I want you to cum on my cock first. 

Ravenna’s head rushed at the sound of his voice within the walls of her mind, and her hands immediately made their way to the ties on his leathers, working quickly to loosen them. Cassian kissed her neck as she did, his breath hitching as she finally pulled them down over the hard bulge to reveal his leaking length. She stroked him a few times, running her thumb over the tip which earned another low moan from her mate. Cassian pulled away then, spitting in his hand and running it over himself. He lined himself up with her entrance, tracing her from top to bottom with his cock. 

Finally, he began pushing his way into her, inch by agonizing inch. Ravenna’s eyes closed in pure bliss as he filled her, her legs wrapping around his waist, hands on his chest. Cassian had one arm above her, hand pressed to the mirror behind the counter, the other hand tightly gripping the skirts that bunched at her waist, wings shadowed behind him. When he’d filled her to the hilt, he paused for a moment to kiss her. 

If anything is too much, just let me know.

I will.

Cassian kissed her deeply, and Ravenna gave herself over to him, melted into the feeling of him inside of her, his mouth on hers, their minds twisting and tangling together. She whimpered as Cassian removed himself slowly, before thrusting back into her fully, deeply. She held onto him as he set the pace, holding her hips in place and driving his into them. 

“Oh fuck, Cassian,” she moaned, mouth dropping open as he increased his pace. He was bigger than anyone she’d been with before, yet somehow she still needed him deeper, closer. She opened her legs more for him from where she was perched on the counter, and he attached both hands to her hips now, fucking into her with ardor. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he cooed, eyes latched to the spot where their bodies joined. She nodded, moaning as his hips ground into hers over and over again. He rested his forehead against hers, her hands creeping up his chest to his shoulders. He changed his angle slightly, earning a sharp inhale from his mate.

“Oh my gods, right there,” she whined, mouth open as the tip of his cock nudged the spot she loved so much. Cassian let out a strained roar, ravaging her now that he’d found her favorite spot. He fucked into her thoroughly, with purpose, the scent of their combined arousal only encouraging him. 

Cassian slipped a hand between their bodies, resting the pad of his thumb against her clit as he fucked her. It was enough to send Ravenna dangerously close to the edge, and in response, she reached her hand over Cassian’s shoulder running a light fingertip over the crest of his wing. His eyes practically rolled back into his head at her touch, but he kept fucking her deep and hard. 

“I’m gonna cum,” she let out, in gasps. 

“Yeah? Cum all over my cock, baby,” he crooned in her ear, his voice low as he rubbed circles over her clit with his thumb. 

Her orgasm hit with a few more strokes, the way she clenched around him, the sounds she made as she came sending him into his own climax. They moaned together, riding out each others highs, until Cassian collapsed forward, kissing Ravenna lazily. They lay in a heap, breathing heavily. 

“That was pretty good for a bathroom counter,” Cassian said, muffled by his face in Ravenna’s chest. 

“Are your wings okay?” She asked as she stood, fussing over her mate’s scarred wings. “I wouldn’t have recommended that much physical activity yet.”

“I’m fine, love,” he said, shaking them out and wrapping her into a hug. “Are you okay? I know I can be a lot.” He kissed the top of her head, running his hands through her hair. 

“I’m wonderful,” Ravenna replied, laughing as she pulled her dress down and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his face. She finger combed her hair, straightening her skirt. “So, now what?” She asked. “We tell everyone?”

“I mean theoretically I think you’re supposed to feed me but I understand if that feels degrading to you,” Cassian answered, smiling. “But yeah, we can tell everyone.”

“They'll be happy, I think," Ravenna said, following him out the bathroom door and doing away with the glamour. “And I’ll bake you cookies.”

Cassian took her hand in his, raising it to his lips to kiss her fingers momentarily. “That sounds perfect,” he answered with a grin. They walked back out into the din of Rita’s and out the door, into what was now nighttime over Velaris. 

“I can’t believe any of this is real,” Ravenna said, quietly, squeezing his hand in hers. “You’re mine.”

“And you’re mine,” he replied, sighing contentedly. Ravenna told him to hold on tight, then winnowed them above the House of Wind, where the rest of their friends would be getting ready to wind down by now. 

-

The pair found Mor, Rhys, and Azriel in the living room, enjoying a bottle of wine from Rhys's collection. She locked eyes with Mor first who gave her a huge smile, miming a high five to her from across the room. Ravenna couldn't help but smile at her friend.

"You two look happy," Azriel called as they entered, muted smile on his face as he appraised his brother and his healer.

"Please tell us there's good news," Rhysand added.

Cassian smiled down at Ravenna. "We're mated," he said, looking back to his family. Mor jumped up, squealing as she hugged them both. Rhys and Az followed suit, congratulating the couple.

"It's about time," Rhys said. "I've been hoping this would happen for years now."

"Why? So there's someone to keep your General alive forever?" Ravenna shot back. Everyone laughed, Rhysand in agreement, and the sound of her laugh had Cassian stuck to her side like velcro again. She perched on his knee as they all sat around discussing their friends, and the mating bond, and how crazy it was the way that things work out even after hundreds of years.

"You know, I actually just bought this cabin property down by the river," Rhys said. "Currently unoccupied, but it's fully furnished and running. My mating gift to you, for... however long you need it."

It was a generous gift, but Rhys insisted, and the devilish look that Cassian gave her at this proposition encouraged her not to push back on his generosity. She was grateful for whatever uninterrupted time she'd have alone with her mate, and she ached thinking about him taking her again. She'd heard rumors about 'the frenzy' as the Fae called it, but she wasn't sure anything could have prepared her for the aching, constant, desire she felt for Cassian.

After sharing a glass of wine with their friends for another hour or so, Rhys tossed Cassian the keys to the cabin. They each packed a bag of clothes and whatever else they might need. Ravenna threw a few books on top of her clothes and raced back out to meet Cassian at the training ring. When she made her way up the stairs, he was there waiting for her, brightening as she approached.

"Do you want to try flying?" Ravenna asked, dropping her bag at her feet.

"Really?" Cassian asked. "You think I should?"

"It's not very far," Ravenna said. "Warm up. We'll try just by yourself first, I'll winnow and meet you there."

Cassian looked like he could cry with joy at her words, but he swallowed and started warming up, stretching his back and shoulders. It had been months since he'd flown, since he'd felt the cold air on his skin as he coasted through clouds and mist and rain. He missed it.

When he'd finished stretching and the blood was flowing to his muscles, he moved his wings in a practice flap.

"Hold on Batboy," Ravenna said. "Kiss me before you potentially fall to your death."

He shot her a look.

"I'm just kidding. I'll see you there," she said, and he leaned in to kiss her. Ravenna stepped back, waiting to watch him take off. He stretched a few more times, and then ran to take off as he normally would have. He should've been scared, but he found that he wasn't, just hoping his wings would remember what to do.

Cassian squeezed his eyes shut as he let muscle memory takeover, and suddenly he realized he was airborne. He soared through the sky, the wind stinging his cheeks. Ravenna encouraged him from below, her cheers coming out on the verge of sobs as she watched him in the air. He smiled, feeling more Illyrian than he had in too long, letting his muscles work to propel him through the sky.

Ravenna choked back happy tears as she watched her mate flying once again, despite his fragile, scarred wings she had tended so carefully to for so many weeks. She smiled to herself, then winnowed, arriving at the door to the cabin Rhys had gifted them.

She could hear the rush of the river to the South, soothing as it flowed down through the mountains. The cabin was surrounded by trees, it's Oak exterior blending seamlessly with the natural environment.

Ravenna turned at the sound of wings nearby, spotting Cassian zipping through the air in her direction. He dove for the ground, somersaulting on impact and popping up just in front of her, cheeks flushed and eyes lively.

He pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss, pulling away after a few moments. "I flew," he breathed, running a hand through his hair.

"You flew," she said, beaming back at him. "I knew you would fly again."

-

Epiphany Masterlist

[fantasyandshit]

They’re just so- perfect

Type: one shot/drabble

Pairing: Lucien Vanserra x gn reader

Based on off this request

Masterlist here

*Luciens pov*

My eyes trail them as they bounds around the room. Gods are they beautiful. Me and Yn have been seeing each other for a while now, and everyday I am absolutely blown away by them. About how I got so lucky.

As I make eye contact with them- two drinks in their hands, I feel it.

Holy shit

They’re my mate.

I look at them in their star fall outfit, my eyes wide as I tug on the string in my chest. Upon Zoning back in, I notice the cups dropped to the floor, shattered around their feet.

Without consciously realizing it, I jump to my feet and practically run to them, picking them up and spinning them around.

“Your my mate!”

“Your mate!” They laugh excitedly, snuggling into my neck as we simply hug for what feels like forever.

I feel something wet in the crook of my neck and pull away, eyes frightened. Are they sad, upset? What’s going on?

“Why are you crying? Do you not want to be my mate?”

“No! No! Gods no! I’m so lucky to be your mate Lucien! I’m crying because I don’t know how I got so lucky!” They smile wide, oh my gods their smile. It’s so amazing, it brightens the whole room, like the sun has risen early. “Your crying to you know.” I hadn’t noticed the hot tears rolling down my face till their hands wiped a few away.

I smile, my hand wrapping around their own that still rests on my cheek. It’s so soft. So perfect, just like the rest of them. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Again with that smile, I’m nearly dead on the spot just looking at them. My mate. My. Perfect. Mate. I’m pulled away from my stuper as the first star falls, rushing through the sky. I turn, looking out to the sky, pulling my mates back into my chest.

As my mate marvels at the stars, I take the time to truly soak it in. Looking down at them, I can’t help the smile that spread across my face yet again.

———

I slide the ring onto my mates hand, pulling them in for a kiss. It was our mating ceremony, we held it in the night court, the beautiful gardens behind us. Eris, and the inner circle sat in the stands, as well as some friends of ours. It wasn’t a huge event, only having a bout 20 people in total but it was perfect. As I pull away, I simply stare at my mate. Gods I can’t take my eyes off of them, they’re just so, perfect.

I thank the mother everyday for blessing me with a mate like them. I watch as they dance with friends, laughing in that beautiful laugh they always do, it sounds like a song I could listen to ever minute of every day for the rest of my life. They’re smiles brightens the room as they throw their head back.

I simply marvel as usual, looking back on all of our memories so far and wondering what’s to come next.

————

Sorry I know it’s short! But I hope it was good! Love y’all and thanks for reading!

[queen--of--shadows]

The Wedding

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel and his half-human mate get married.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2,491

Notes: Thank you to the anon who requested this! I had SO much fun writing this scene and loved adding it as a bonus chapter to Healing Shadows! 🖤 Let me know what you think! Xx

---------------------------

“Her flowers! Where are her flowers!” Mor shrieked from behind you, pulling your head with her as she turned back with a deathly grip on a chunk of your hair.

“Mor, it’s okay. We still have some time,” you assured her, even though there was only an hour left until the ceremony. With an exasperated sigh, Mor pinned the final piece of hair into place and swiveled your chair around to face her.

She gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. “Y/N, you are…breathtaking.”

Not that you would know. She hadn’t let you see yourself since she started the whole ordeal of getting you dressed and ready three hours ago, promising that the final outcome would be worth the wait.

Tears lined Mor’s eyes as she stepped again to block your view of the vanity mirror. “I would give you a hug, but I don’t want to ruin my masterpiece,” she laughed, dabbing at the inner corners of her eyes.

You gave her hand a tight squeeze. “I love you,” you said, a lump forming in your throat. You cherished your friendship with Mor and couldn’t imagine the past year of your life without her. She had been your rock through everything, along with the rest of the Inner Circle, and your mate.

Your mate.

Soon-to-be husband.

“I still can’t believe you’re getting married,” Nesta said as she entered through the giant white doors leading from the garden of the River House with Feyre trailing behind her. The two sisters and Mor were dressed in matching silk gowns of midnight blue, tiny beaded stars and moons adorning the train that pooled at their feet. Simple, yet devastatingly stunning.

You had asked the three females to be your bridesmaids after the engagement to honor your half-human heritage. They were overjoyed, since mating ceremonies didn’t involve similar traditions.

“Me neither,” you responded distantly as Mor finally moved out of your view of the mirror.

Your breath hitched as you caught the first glimpse of yourself.

A long silk dress, the color of fresh cream, with small flowers and leaves and vines wrapping across your midsection in glistening jewels and sparkling thread. The soft cowl neckline was held up by two thin pearl straps that plunged down the back, allowing your tattoo to be fully displayed, as per Azriel’s request. Mor had curled your hair into loose waves, pinned back with shimmering diamond clips on both sides. The makeup was simple and elegant—your eyes shone under long lashes and gold eyeshadow, and your plump lips were accentuated with rosewood lipstick. Long dangling diamond earrings almost finished the look, but you knew it wouldn’t be complete without your ring.

As you carefully grabbed your engagement ring from the vanity, you reminisced on the most perfect and beautiful week of your life thus far: the day your mating bond was realized, and a few days later, when Azriel asked you to be his wife.

It had been six days of utter bliss—six days since Azriel revealed he was your mate, and you officiated the bond at the cabin. You hadn’t left the cabin since you arrived, and were finally feeling ready to head back home.

“My love,” Azriel muttered against the back of your head, cuddling you from behind as the morning sun crept up over the horizon. You hummed in response, relishing what you knew would be the last moments of peace and bliss you would enjoy for a long time.

“I love you,” he said between kisses, your eyes still heavy with sleep as Azriel made his way out of bed. You groaned in protest, but he assured, “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” with another soft kiss.

You snuggled deeper under the massive pile of blankets and throws, awaiting your mate’s return. But he was taking longer than you expected, so you slowly sat up, wrapping a soft blanket around your shoulders.

“Az?” you called out.

“Close your eyes,” he said from the hallway outside your room.

“What?” You laughed, not expecting yet another surprise from your mate.

“Close them,” he said again with his night-kissed voice, so perfect, even in the early morning. You obeyed.

Azriel’s warm, calloused hand wrapped around yours as he pulled you out of bed. “Come here.” You followed as he positioned you in what felt like the living room, judging by the distance he made you walk.

“Az! It’s cold, come on let’s get back in bed.” 

When he didn’t respond, you became impatient and finally opened your eyes.

To Azriel down on one knee, a small black box in his hand.

You gasped as your sleep-riddled brain rushed to make sense of the situation.

“Az…”

“Y/N, I’ve loved you from the moment I met you. I knew as soon as I saw you, you were mine. Made for me, just like I was made for you. To spend the rest of our lives together. I don’t know if it was the Cauldron or the Mother or some ancient God that willed our paths to cross. All I know is that I’m forever indebted to whoever brought you into my life. You are my sun, my moon and my stars, my heart and soul and my every breath.”

You sank to your knees, tears rolling as you cupped your mate’s face.

“We already officiated the mating bond, but I want to honor your Mother, your human side.” He opened the small box to reveal the most stunning ring you had ever laid eyes on: a bright, sparkling oval sapphire, the color identical to his siphons, positioned in the center of a thin gold band, surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds and pearls. You covered your gaping mouth with your right hand as Azriel pulled out the ring and twisted it to reveal a small inscription inside the band. “It says forever. Because you are my forever, Y/N. You are all I need.” Tears lined his hazel eyes. “Will you marry me?”

You pressed your lips against his—your mate, Azriel, the absolute love of your life. You had never known a love so pure, so sweet, so kind. “Az,” you gasped between laughs and sobs. “I love you so much. Of course I’ll marry you.” A shuddering sob went through him as he pulled you into his embrace, wrapping his wings around you. Azriel pulled back to place the ring on your left hand and marveled at the sight.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Az,” you whispered before kissing him again, this time more passionately. Azriel moaned into your mouth, lifting you from the ground and carrying you back into the bedroom, where he began—

“Are you ready, Y/N?” The excitement and glee in Feyre’s voice tore you from your memories and ushered you back to the present. A quick glance at the clock revealed only a few minutes left until you were to make your entrance.

“Yes.” You squeezed her hand, smiling at your bridesmaids. “You should head out. I’ll be there soon,” you promised, following them toward the doors.

“We love you, Y/N. See you outside,” Nesta said with a quick kiss on your cheek.

You were overwhelmed with gratitude, and said a quick prayer to the Mother for blessing you with the most incredible friends and mate you could’ve asked for.

You grabbed your bouquet off the table by the entrance—a marvelous array of white roses, lilies, and peonies, embellished with sprigs of night-blooming jasmine. A steadying breath helped calm your nerves, but you nearly jumped at the sound of a banging knock on the door.

You were ready to assault whoever was outside with a barrage of curses when you opened it to Cassian and Rhys, grinning from ear to ear.

“Y/N, you look exquisite,” Rhys purred as he sauntered over and kissed your hand.

“You know, I think it’s time Nesta and I have a wedding of our own, if she’s gonna look anything like you do,” Cassian said with a booming laugh, kissing you on the cheek. “You look like a Gods-damned angel ascended from the heavens.” He grabbed a hand and gave you a twirl.  

“Thank you, boys,” you said, followed by a sarcastic curtsy.

Rhys offered his elbow. “Shall we?”

Cassian linked his elbow with yours, opposite of Rhys. “It’s time to make an honest man of my brother, Y/N.”

Arms locked with the males you considered your own brothers, and hands nervously gripping the lush white bouquet, the three of you paused at the door until you heard the lilting melody of harps, chimes, and bells from outside—your signal to begin the walk down the aisle.

The doors opened directly to the short path through the garden that led to the gazebo where your mate was standing.

And your heart burst out of your chest as you locked eyes with Azriel.

His black suit was cut perfectly to fit his tall, 6’4 muscled body, fashioned around his massive wings. His midnight blue tie matched the bridesmaids’ dresses, and his black stud earrings glistened in the moonlight against his glowing tan skin. Azriel slicked back his silky dark hair, perfectly showcasing those stunning hazel eyes. Shadows danced and twirled around his feet to the rhythm of the music. He stood with his hands clasped in front of him, and as your gaze met with his, your core began to warm at the waves of love and awe and affection pulsing down the bond. His eyes watered as they met with yours, setting your feet moving towards your beautiful mate.

His essence bloomed stronger in your core with every step—night and sky and shadow, the taste of a salty breeze and morning dew, raw Illyrian power that melded with your own.

It was an intimate ceremony with a few of your family and friends lining the sides of the garden, tossing white rose petals as you walked down the aisle.

And as you reached the end, you near-choked as Madja reached out for your hand, giving it a squeeze, tears lining her eyes. She nodded in approval, and you knew words could never express your gratitude for her.

You halted in front of the alter where Azriel stood to the right, and Feyre, Mor, and Nesta stood to the left. Gwyn looked like a goddess in the center, holding a scroll of ancient wedding prayers, donning an emerald-green gown and a crown of gold ribbons atop her long, silky red hair.

“And who gives this bride to her mate?” she chimed, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she raised a brow at the males on your arms.

“We do,” Cass and Rhys said in unison, beaming as they helped you up the alter steps toward Azriel, who offered his hand. The brothers took their spot behind your mate, and you turned back to hand your flowers to Feyre, finding all three bridesmaids sniffling with teary eyes.

You held Azriel’s hands as Gwyn recited old prayers of love and worship and devotion. In true Night Court fashion, you both decided to get married after sundown, under the open night sky. The stars twinkled brighter tonight, as if they, too, were showing off for the joyous occasion. The light from the crescent moon blended with that of the faelight bulbs, strung across like a canopy, to glaze the garden in an illuminating glow. Bouquets of white roses lined the aisle to the gazebo, which was adorned top-to-bottom in intricate gold lace.

It couldn’t have been more perfect.

Azriel toyed with the engagement ring on your finger while you brushed your thumb along the back of his hand. As Gwyn finished her prayers, she gave a short speech about the special bond between mates and how Cauldron-blessed this fateful wedding was.

You were barely registering her words, wondering if there was any language that had a word to describe what you felt for Azriel.

“Az, do you have any words for Y/N?”

His grip on your hands tightened as he began. “Y/N, my beautiful bride, my best friend, my mate. I thank my lucky stars day and night for you. I cannot imagine living a single second without you by my side.” You had never heard his voice quiver before, raw and tender. Tears slid down your cheeks at his love and affection. “I’ve waited my entire life to meet you, and I would wait another hundred years if I had to. I promise to protect you, cherish and honor you. I will be there for you every step of our journey together, to support you, encourage you, and love you. Every day. For the rest of my life.”

“Azriel,” you breathed. “From the second I saw you, I knew in my very being that we were made for each other. My mate, my match, my equal.” Tears escaped his hazel eyes. “Az, you are kind, considerate, intelligent, beautiful. You make me believe in love, that a story like ours isn’t just a fairy tale.” Azriel leaned down and pressed his brow against yours, his tears dropping onto your chest. “Your sorrows are my sorrows, your joy is my joy. If we fall, we fall wrapped in each other’s arms. I promise to spend the rest of eternity proving to you what a light you are in our world. Wherever we go, we’ll go together.”

You stood pressed against each other, hand in hand, when at last you heard Gwyn say, “Azriel, do you take Y/N to be your wife, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” he whispered.

“Y/N,” Gwyn's voice trembled now as tears lined her eyes, too. “Do you take Azriel to be your husband, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?” choking out the last few words.

“I do,” you managed, face gleaming with happiness and joy.

Rhys stepped forward and handed Azriel two sparkling rings atop a small gilded tray. Azriel slid the solid gold band down your finger, and you did the same, his band identical to yours.

Gwyn chimed, with her voice sparkling like a thousand flutes of bubbling champagne, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Cheers erupted from the garden as Azriel pulled you in, pressing his soft lips against yours for a passionate yet gentle kiss. He wiped your tear-stained cheeks, while you wiped at his.

Interlacing your fingers, you gave him a final “I love you,” before he lifted you in the comfort of his strong arms, the arms that would never let you fall, and carried you down the aisle, a shower of petals covering you both as husband and wife, as mates, two flames merged together for eternity.

You were home.

---------------------------

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