#devlon acotar x reader

[tadpolesonalgae]

Lord Devlon x Illyrian!reader: Give Me What I Want.[*]

A/N: I thank you so deeply for making this request and opening my eyes to this male, oml—

Warnings: slight brat taming (woah!), wing play, dom/sub dynamics (kinda)

Arms fly over his shoulders, gripping to steady yourself as you jerk your knee upward, aiming at the soft organ between his legs.

A low snarl rips from his chest, a broad, calloused palm biting into your thigh, keeping you from slamming it home. He twists your leg to the side, pulling it up over his hip, stepping into you so you’re tipping backward—forced to desperately cling to him to keep from falling to the kitchen floor.

“Let me go, brute,” you hiss, digging your nails into the muscle cording his shoulders, hanging from his strength. “I would sooner sleep outside this winter than visit your blasted brother again. He makes a pass at me every time you look away.”

“If you’d stop seducing him with those eyes of yours, there wouldn’t be a problem,” he growls, free arm wrapping around your waist, keeping you within his warmth. “I can’t take you anywhere without something happening.”

“You’re putting this on me?” You snarl, arms aching from holding him so tight, having spent the afternoon drying the various pots and pans from lunch, then immediately switching to preparing dinner, which is laying untouched atop the table. “Don’t you feel any sense of protection for your wife? Your own brother is trying to steal me out from right beneath your nose, ‘Lo. Aren’t you embarrassed? Ashamed? I’m not some common whore to be traded about, no matter how you like to say so.”

Rough fingertips splay across your ribs, skating beside your breast, possessively. “He knows what would happen to him if he so much as touched something of mine. If advances have been made, you have only yourself to blame, temptress that you are.”

“That’s your answer?” You hiss. “That it’s my fault your brother keeps trying to take liberties with me? You should train your dogs better.”

Devlon growls in warning. “He is my brother, and you will show him the respect he deserves. He is a fully fledged warrior, and you will do well to treat him as one.” He pulls you tighter to his body, your back straining with the curve, gritting your teeth against the ache. “Or do I need to remind you of your placement in this world?” You snarl your disagreement, hands raising to the thick, dark locks of his hair, nails scraping over his scalp. “I will submit to my husband, and my husband only. If you know so thoroughly that I am yours, why tolerate any other male attempting to put his hands on me. Do you have no sense of possession? As your wife, I would expect more aggression from you, but clearly this brother of yours has something over you if you’re at his mercy—”

“I will not have you sewing discord within my family, witch.” Lip curls at the title, hands lowering from his hair, trailing down his back, just grazing the great wings—

The second you do, Illyrian instinct kicks in, and he goes for the throat. Muscle tenses, then you turn soft and pliable in his arms. Calloused fingers stroke over the sensitive skin placatingly, as if calming a beast through scratching behind its ears. Heat flushes your cheeks, legs trembling, arms turning weak and limp as the stimulation settles in the pit of your belly.

“Don’t… Quit it, ‘Lo,” you pant, shooting him a scathing glare. He can’t just do this every time you have an argument. And yet it always seems to end with you flipped on your back, a larger pair of wings hiding you from the world, your fingers running through his hair while his hips grind against your own.

Hands fall away from his wings, instead pulling to your chest, attempting to squirm out of his dominating hold, feeling all of a sudden as though his hands are all over your body, touching the curve of your hip, the softness of your waist, the hollow of your throat. “We aren’t done with this argument,” you manage, heat already pounding between your legs.

“Argument?” He pulls you tighter to his chest, lips brushing the shell of your ear, “you speak of a children’s sparring match like it’s a war.”

Grit your teeth. “Stop infantilising me. You don’t give me proper attention, or the topics I bring up. A good husband listens to his wife.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says dismissively, though his hands have slowed on your wings. You’re grateful for the reprieve.

“You’re being dense,” you snap, regaining enough to control to steady yourself with the one leg that’s still planted on the floor. “I would’ve though as warlord you would understand when to pick your battles—you’re always saying that makes a good warrior.”

“You think we were battling?” He sneers, pulling your thigh tighter over his hip. “You’d be on the floor painted black and blue if we were.”

“This house is my battle ground,” you hiss sharply, anger flaring in your blood at the nonchalance he spoke about hurting you with. “As your wife, home and family are my designated areas. You don’t hear me asking what you spoke about during those meetings of yours, because I know my place. And I don’t expect your help in the kitchen other than perhaps giving me coin to buy the necessary materials, because that isn’t your place. Your brother’s actions are an attack on our family, and as a relatively dignified male, I expect you to defend it.” You finish, keeping your attention locked with his sharp hazel eyes.

Dark brows furrow as his attention pierces into you, the edges of his mouth twisted in an almost permanent frown. You fight to keep from shifting in his hold as he judges your points.

“Unnervingly sound reasoning, as usual,” he mutters, relenting at last. Lips quirk in triumph, making him shoot you a dark glance, fingers biting into your thigh. “I suppose it’s not acceptable for him to put his hands on my wife, even if provoked.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you snap, heat finally receding enough for you to be rational. “Where did that idea even come from? I’ve been nothing but loyal to you.” He snarls roughly at that, hips pressing into your abdomen. “Don’t lie to me, wife. Do you even understand the strain you put on me to resist taking you before our wedding night?”

Lips part as heat flows between you, something hard and stiff pressing into you, the shape of his arousal more prominent that it was before. “What are you talking about?” You breathe, his mouth poised to devour your own. A muscle feathers in his jaw, and you can feel the strength contained within his warrior’s body seeping into your own. “You know what I’m talking about,” he growls. “You are female. You should hold no power over me.”

You can do nothing but stare up into his hazel eyes, two siphons glittering on either shoulder, blazing storm-cloud grey. “And yet every day drove me deeper into madness. Every day I was denied you, deprived of you.” Lips brush over your own, a roughened promise whispered in secret. “I could have killed on our wedding day, with how intense that strain was.”

He had seemed ill-tempered—you’d assumed he was simply innately miserable, rather than it being out of impatience. “‘Lo…” you plead, softly, breathlessly.

“It should not be me that feels that way alone,” he growls, hand sliding up between your wings, your spine arching. “I should not be the one subject to you.”

“Yet here you are,” you manage, wishing he would shut up and put his mouth over your own already. He snarls, silencing you. “Can you even comprehend the need I have for you? Understand a fraction of the longing I feel for you? How my bones groan to have you near?”

The world around him falls away, negative space. “Show me,” you breathe, “show me.”

Hot lips press over your own, hand releasing your leg in favour of sliding beneath your ass, hauling you upward. Thighs wrap tight around his hips, your hands cupping his jaw as he groans up into the kiss, head tipped back to go deeper. Fingers thread through the thickness of his dark hair, rolling your hips against him, hands dipping lower. Skating over his shoulders, down his back.

He snarls into your mouth as your nails graze the base of his wings, the tendons shuddering beneath the feather-light touch. His hold loosens, allowing you to slide down a little, his arousal pressing flush to your centre. Hips buck as you attach your mouth to his neck, your Lord stalking from the kitchen, prowling through your house so he can bed you. Teeth scrape over a pulse point, hands squeezing your ass in response, shifting you in his arms so your centre rubs over him.

Forearm slides beneath you, hand gripping the nape of your neck, unlatching your mouth from his throat. Siphons burn the colour of thunder-clouds, hazel sharp as it pierces into you. “Hands and knees,” he grits out. “On the double.”

Neither of you dare waste a second. The moment he releases you, ties are loosened, clothes are strewn across the floor, wings flare for balance as you’re practically shoved onto the bed. Feel the heavy weight of his cock between your legs, one arm sliding down your front, calloused fingers plying you apart enough so you’ll be able to take him. “‘Lo, please…” you pant, tightening around his digits as they slide in and out, curling softly against spots he knows you like.

Pleasure weakens your muscles, lowering onto your forearms, wings twitching near their tips, shuddering as heat pulses between your legs. “I need you relaxed,” he grits out, your spine curving at the rough drag of the syllables. “I am relaxed,” you pant, “do it.”

Your Lord curses under his breath, then pulls away; you whine at the emptiness. It’s transformed into a moan when the tip of his cock presses to your entrance instead, poised to fill you up—if he would just push his hips forward. You hiss, telling him to get on with it, but he only slides in the first inch or so, nowhere near enough yet. “What are you doing?” You manage breathlessly, attempting to shift to peer at him, but he holds you still.

“Do you feel how badly you want that?” He growls, pulling out a little more. You could scream at him to slam in, but it won’t get you anywhere, so you nod your head instead, choosing compliance over disobedience. “Imagine constantly feeling that need every time someone so much as walked in the same room as you. Do you see how cruel you were?” A moan slips from your lips, his hand rising from between your legs to grip your breast, thumbing at the sensitive peak of your nipple. “I’m sorry, ‘Lo,” you pant, practically trembling beneath his hands. “I’m so sorry…”

“I bet you’re fucking sorry,” he snarls. “Not so nice being on the receiving end, is it?”

Swallow thickly, heartbeat spiking at the vulgar language. “Please, ‘Lo. Please, I need you.” Fingers pinch the sensitive skin. “Of course you do.”

Then he slides in, and you’re pressed forward, making room for him until his hips are tight against the backs of your thighs. Eyes roll with pleasure, harsh pants of relieve spilling from your lips as you clamp down on him. Words blur and fumble, a strange mesh of pleading sounds pouring into the air, the duvet doing nothing to muffle them. “That’s better,” he groans, drawing his hips back in favour of slamming in. You cry out, pleasure rocking your mind as he sets a punishing pace, hips smacking against your thighs, cock touching those previously stimulated spots, having you tighten around him.

Canines scrape over the junction of your neck and shoulder, finding the part he likes, where you’ll struggle to conceal the mark. Teeth bite down and you moan, wings fluttering in pleasure as he presses against them, pinning them to your back. Vision blurs with the stimulation, tears brimming along your lashes, bursting with the need to have him this deep inside you at all times, to be so utterly and completely full there’s hardly room for breath.

Your husband pulls away, gripping you by the hips, slamming you back against him in time with the rough pace he’s chosen. Cries spill helplessly from your chest as he puts his weight behind each thrust, grinding his hips against you so he’ll touch more of the lovely, mouth-watering places inside you. You try to cover your mouth but he’s having none of it, one hand fisting in your hair as he tugs you upright, forcing your spine to curve to his will as he pounds into you.

Waves of dizzying pleasure crest over your skin, a scream whimpering from your mouth as you flutter around his cock, sending him over the edge. He snarls as it hits him, release spurting into you, feeling the thick liquid spill deep inside, filling you up and stuffing you full. Eyes slide shut, pushing tears down your cheeks while muscles spasm from overstimulation. The last waves finish, and his grip loosens on you, allowing you to collapse down into the mattress, exhausted.

The bed dips to your left as he settles beside you, one great wing splaying across your back, tucking you beneath it. Take your time to regain your strength, before rolling closer, your own wings folding to allow you to press into the sturdy heat of his side. “What about supper?” You question quietly, eyes still shut as you bask in the aftermath. He grunts noncommittally. “We can eat later.”

As if on cue, your stomach rumbles, hunger beginning to make an appearance now your mind is unoccupied. You groan, brows narrowing into a frown before you sigh, making to push up from the bed. His wing presses you down, keeping you laying comfortably on your front. “I’ll get it,” he mutters, standing and moving to kitchen.

When he returns, you’ve burrowed under the covers, closer to his side than your own, eyes shut, breathing deep and even. He rolls his eyes, setting the plates down on the tables either side your large bed.

You’ll wake up in an hour or so, once you’re sufficiently rested.

Then it’ll be time for round two.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022

[nattblacklupin]

A/N It's mostly acotar, but I plan on writing for other fandoms, too! Request are open, just limited to acotar for now.

Cassian - lord of bloodshed

Never was much of a romantic: 1, 2

Happy, 2

Invisible string

Ice and blood

coming soon

Eris Vanserra - heir of autumn court

Not so secret

Sleepless nights

Ice and fire

coming soon

Lord Devlon - war lord

My fierce protector

coming soon

Amren - ancient one

Timeless

coming soon

Azriel - shadowsinger

Ice and shadows

Coming soon

Rhysand - lord of the night

Cupids ride

Coming soon

[mischiefmanagers]

I think I just entered my Lord Devlon era so apologies in advance 🫡

[sarawritestories]

You Are Not a Burden

Cassian X Fem Reader

Summary: You have been tasked with going to the Spring Court to check in on Tamlin for Rhys. Though You and the High Lord do not get along and this visit leaves you injured and doubting your abilities in Rhys and Feryre's court and in the Inner Circle.

Content Warning: Angst, Aggression, injury, Stubbornness, Self doubt, barely proof read.

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: I hope you enjoy this angsty fic that has some really good fluff at the end.

Exhaustion had been your constant companion in the past weeks. Doing emissary work between Summer and the Day Court had been successful and have been in good company with Tarquin and Helion, who have always loved when you come to visit. Though standing on the dilapidated building of the Spring Court, you wished you could be anywhere else. The territory has been neglected as shown by the dead plants and the Mansion looking like no one has stayed there in centuries in a matter of months. The once rich color of the land had dulled, and the people of this court have suffered just as much as the land.

Rhys had asked you personally to touch base with him as you were already traveling to nearby territories and seeing the exhaustion on his face mostly from taking care of Nyx and not wanting to have Feyre endure going back there you agree. The relief in his eyes made it worth being here though it meant that you would be apart from your mate for weeks as Cassian was at the Illyrian camps handling Devlon and making sure the camps were staying in line. The time apart has left an ache in your heart, but the work has been a great distraction.

Shaking your mind from your thoughts and sending love down the bond that links you to your General. There was a warmth that took over your body as he sent warmth and comfort through the bond. Taking a breath you raise your hand and ready to knock on the door when the door opens, and your eyes meet Emerald ones. “I could hear your heart rate spike. What do you want?”

You straighten your posture, “I was in the area, I wanted to check in.”

Tamlin scowls, “Consider me checked in. You can go run to your High Lord and your Bastard, like the good little Bitch you are.”

He is about to shut the door when you breach your boot against the frame preventing it from shutting, ignoring how his blow hit his mark and gave a knowing smirk placing the mask Rhys has taught you “Look who got his bark back.” You rolled your eyes, “Can I please come in? The sooner we have an adult conversation the sooner I can leave, and you can wallow in whatever pity party you’re hosting for yourself.”

His claws peeked over his knuckles, “Why do you care, you sure as hell didn’t care when you took Feyre from me? You sure as hell did not care when your High Lord let her come in and destroy my territory.”

You cross your arms, “Tamlin, Feyre, wanted to do that on her own, there was no coercing on our end. As for your territory...you were a ticking time bomb. Your people were getting frustrated with your rule. Feyre just sped up the process. Maybe it’s time you stop blaming others for what happened in your court and take some responsibility.”

In a flash Tamlin tackles you to the ground, your head hitting the concrete at the bottom of the stairs, your vision blurred slightly as Tamlin’s claw clamps around your neck and squeezes, “I want you to listen very carefully,” He snarls and you wince, “You don’t get to judge me when its apparent there is no use for you in that vile court you call home. Rhys and Feyre have no use for you other than sending out and parade around in other territories.” He smirked as a tear escape cascading down your cheek, “I’m sure you are only good for warming your general’s cock and sitting prettily on his lap.” You wince as his blow landed some of your deepest insecurities being confirmed by the person you hate the most. “You are not welcome in my territory and if I catch your scent even in my territory, I will kill you. Leaving your Corpse on your bastard mate’s doorstep.”

He presses his face close to hers causing a whimper, “Get. Out,” he whispered and ripped away from your body the sound of a door slamming solidifying that the High Lord of the spring had slithered back into his tomb. You laid facing the sky the beautiful sight of the sky a stark contrast of what transpired.  For a moment not fully aware of how that escalated quickly, and your hand gravitated to your neck and tears began to pool. You make sure that your bond was locked so your emotions were not flooding to Cassian as he was out checking on his armies.

You stood and the ground began to spin briefly before steadying yourself a sharp pain stung behind your eyes and you touched the back of your head and something wet and warm met your fingertips. You look at your hand and find blood dripping down to your wrist, without a second glance to the manor, you winnowed back to Velaris. You ended up on Madja’s doorstep and you stunned the older Fae healer, “Oh dear, let’s get you checked out” Madja brought you inside and tried to tend to your injuries.

The familiar mental claws scraped your mental shield as Madja had you lay in her cot checking your neck to make sure Tamlin didn’t do any permanent damage as a bruise in the shape of a hand was blooming across your skin. You open your shield enough to let your High Lord come in.

“Home so soon?” Rhy’s voice was a mixture of surprise and concern, “Was your trip constructive?”

You take a steadying breath Tamlin’s words began to bubble up. You tamper it down just enough to keep it from Rhys and replied, “Yes my report, will be on your desk in a few days.”

“I’m glad you’re home, Cassian and Azriel are on their way as we speak so we’re having family dinner tonight at the River House.”

“I’ll be there. I am going to rest it’s been a long journey, and I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Rhys chuckled, “I’m sure Cassian will be more than happy to help tire you out when he sees you. He has already promised to kick my ass for keeping him away from you for this long.”

You smile briefly, and once again Tamlin’s words tried to bubble on the surface causing you stress. Rhys must have picked up on the shift of your feelings, “You sure you’re okay. Tamlin give you a hard time?”

“Rhysand, I’m fine, I’m just tired. I’ll see you at dinner.” You put your shield up before he had a chance to press further on the subject, and let unconsciousness claim you.

~Later That Evening~

You make your way down to the dining room of the River House, your plumb colored gown swishing against your bare feet. The high neckline that has a cut out that compliments your breast is why you chose this. Madja was able to close the wound on your head but the dark purple bruise dawning on your neck was going to have to heal on its own. The sound of laughter flooded your ears and the sound usually brings a smile to your face but this time insecurities run rampant.

They don’t need you.

You don’t belong.

You don’t bring anything to this group. They are better off without you.

You wince at the last one, but you school your features and put on a smile and walk into the dining room. The laughter died out and nerves racked down your body by the silence your lips turning down slightly, “Don’t mind me,” You whisper as you make your way down to the empty chair next to your mate. Your heart stopped at the sight of him as he rose from his seat to approach you. Being out in the mountains in the Fall sunshine his skin had darkened a shade and there was stubble along his face that made your toes curl. He was devastatingly handsome, his hair in a clean bun and his leathers been replaced by a dark button up shirt and dress pants.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Cassian scooped you in his arms and spun you around. Placing you down he steals a kiss from you, “I missed you. I was so happy to hear you were home early.”

His hand grazed down your face and as he neared your neck wiggled out of his grasp and got on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek and gave him a small smile, “Me too, General.” You take your seat, and You see Cassian take his, his brows furrowed.  The food appeared and everyone gave approval

Feyre looked at you and gave her smile, “How is Tarquin and Helion, I hope they are doing well and treated you well.”

You are only good at parading to other courts.

You cleared your throat as fiddle with the food on your plate not having a solid “They are fine, warm and loving as always.”

“Rhys and Feyre have no use for you… you are only good for warming your general’s cock and sitting prettily on his lap.” The image of Tamlin snarling in your face and his hand squeezing your neck.

Rhys stilled his head shot up and his eyes met yours, your eyes widened and slam your mental shields up. Cassian’s head swiveled between his brother and you and guilt washes over you as he realizes that you have him locked out of the bond. “How was the Spring Court?” Rhys asked tension seeping into the room. Cassian’s head whipped to Rhys.

Feyre also stilled, “You sent her to the Spring Court?” she whispered her food forgotten. Mor poured more wine and filled Amren and Azriel’s goblets. Azriel’s shadows almost obscured him from view and Amren leaned against her chair and sipped her goblet.

Cassian’s grip on his fork tightened his knuckles turning white, “I chose to go,” I whispered. I reach my hand to grip Ferye’s across from me, “It was fine. I was banned but that was the only thing that happened,” Feyre didn’t return her smile.

Rhys jaw locked, “Don’t lie.”

Cassian through gritted teeth, “Someone tell me what’s going on right now!”  Rhys made eye contact with the General and his eyes went vacant along with Feyre’s. He was showing both yours and his mates the image that slipped. When the connection was severed you saw that the General had tears in his eyes as rage contorted his features. Feyre had tears streaming down her face.

You rise from your seat tears threatening, “I’m fine. I can handle myself. I’m so sorry that I ruined Family Dinner with this.” You fled and could hear Cassian call out your name as you winnowed to the door of the House of Wind and took the 10,000 steps to the top. You are aloud yourself to fall apart and sobs racked your whole body. Emotions swirling, of the pain on Feyre’s face and the pure rage on Cassian’s, the venomous truth that Tamlin spewed to you and when you reached the top. You moved as quickly as you could despite your thighs burning from the trek up the steps.

You reached the bedroom and were greeted by Hazel eyes, and you sniffled, “Cassian,” You whispered.

The General was leaning against the bed post with his arms and ankles crossed his eyes red rimmed, “Why did you block me out?” His voice was quiet and pained, his knuckles were bloody.

You open the bond and worry is sent down to him, “You’re hurt,” you whisper not looking away from his knuckles.

 He looks down at his hands and his eyes meet yours and they soften at your worry and relief shimmers down that bridge between him and you. “The blood isn’t mine. It’s Rhys’,” He shrugged, and you bit your lip, Cassian sighs and pushes of the post and approaches you and you avert your eyes. “He’s fine, he could have fought me off, he let me get the hits in. He felt guilty.”

“Why?” You ask, taking a step away from the door and approaching him.

Cassian stared at you in disbelief as he brought his arms down, pushing off the post to close the distance between the two of you. “Because he purposely put you in danger sending you to Tamlin’s territory. That the bruise your hiding behind that neckline is his fault.” Your eyes widened, “Rhys had stopped by Madja, and she told him she was worried about you.” You nod briefly, “We’re all worried about you. Especially Rhys and myself.”

You shake your head, “It wasn’t. I went willingly. I may have pushed Tamlin’s buttons, and he got the up on me.” You whisper, “It’s not Rhys’ fault it was mine.”

Cassian cupped your face in his hands, “Rhys was aware that you and Tamlin do not get along. He also knew that you wouldn’t say no whereas anyone else would have. As your High Lord and more importantly your friend, he should not have put you in that situation.”

You wrap your fingers around his hands that are still cupping your face, “Tamlin wasn’t wrong though.” Cassian’s face fell at your admission. Tears trailed down your cheek, “I feel like I don’t have a job that is really helping this court, but I can’t fight like everyone else and sometimes I feel like Rhys and Feyre really don’t know what to do with me.” Cassian wipes her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m even a good enough friend to be part of the Inner Circle. Then what he said about you.” You closed your eyes, “I know you love me. I know you value me as a friend, partner, mate and wife, but I think back to the number of times you have had to reassure me and take care of me. I can’t help but feel like a burden to you and this court.”

“Oh Sweetheart,” His voice cracked as he picked you up and led you to the bathroom where he took a moment to change you out of your gown. His eyes were flaring with anger at the sight of the bruise. He puts on one of your favorite night gowns that is red and black. He guides you to the vanity back in the bedroom and has you sit as he begins to brush your hair. “There has never been a moment since you came into my life where I ever found you as a burden. You have been such a bright light in my life, your smile brightens the room and even on my worst day that same smile always melts my problems away. You have the affect on the team too, your easy and calm demeanor grounds everyone even Amren.” He meets your gaze through the mirror with his smile that always settles your nerves. “Your charm is perfect for dealing with temperamental High Lords which is why Feyre and Rhys have you go out and touch base with them every now and then. They like you and find comfort in your presence.”

He kisses your cheek and turns you so that you’re facing him, “I love you, You have never under any circumstances simply been someone who warms my cock.” You give him a small smile and his eyes light up at the upward tick of your lips. “I love your kindness, and your bravery. Most importantly it’s your willingness to drop anything for anyone, no questions asked. People know they can come to you for a listening ear, a shopping spree. You even know when I just need to hold you after a difficult mission, and you don’t pry but you somehow know what any one of us needs at any given moment. That’s special, Sweetheart, you’re special.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I will happily remind you of that, everyday from now until my heart stops beating that you are NOT a burden.” Another kiss to your lips briefly before he pulls away.

You feel tears flooding out one more time as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck taking in his scent. “I was nervous, that if you sensed my dread and fear down the bond, you would have shown up in the Spring Court. That’s why I blocked you out and I really wish I hadn’t. I thought he was going to kill me he even told me as much.” Cassian stilled at the admission but did not say anything as you continued, “Then when I got here all I could think about was how I couldn’t inconvenience anyone to help. I was cowardly and didn’t want Rhys to think I failed him. Failed you and began and self-doubt is a parasite that is easy to come in and harder to extract. I just didn’t want to bring the mood down of everyone being home for the first time in weeks. ”

Cassian snorted and you could hear him roll his eyes, “He failed you, Sweetheart. But Tamlin will be dealt with. I promise.” You nod and continue to sob into his neck ruining his dress shirt with your tears.  “Also, you are more important to me than any dinner or game night we could have. How you’re feeling takes priority for me that will never change. Just because you're not feeling joy all the time doesn't make you a burden, it's normal to have those bad feelings as it is the good ones.”

Cassian tucks an arm under your knees and behind your back and carries you to the armchair looking out at the balcony. Holding you close as your sobs ebb and flow he strokes your back and presses his head against yours whispering sweet nothings.

A few moments go by when the sobbing turns to soft hiccups, you raise your head from his neck to meet his beautiful honey-colored eyes. “Thank you, for being you, Cassian, you always know what to say.”

He presses a kiss to your hand, “Promise me something, Sweet Girl.” You wait to let him continue, “Promise me that you will not block me out like that again, if you think you will be in a dangerous situation or territory, you keep the bond open so I can help. While we’re at it, tell me things. Don’t try to protect me from your dark feelings, or worries, it’s my job as your mate and your husband to help you through them and work on quieting those loud voices. No different than what you do for me.”

You nod, “I promise.” You kiss him, “I love you.”

He smiles and holds you tighter to him, “I love you too, Sweetheart. Let’s get some rest, we have an early meeting with the High Lord and Lady tomorrow.”

You nod and let him carry you to bed. He quickly removes his clothes, apart from his underwear and crawls into bed next to you, bringing your head to his chest and his wing wrapped around the two of you for extra warmth as your eyes droop close you feel lips on your forehead, “My beautiful, mate.” He whispers as you drift into slumber.

~FIN

[purple-writer8]

The Lakes - ACOTAR

Rhysand x Ilyrian Reader (set in Windhaven Camp when Rhysand still trained there)

“Those Windermere peaks look like the perfect place to cry. I’m setting off, but not without my muse.”

warnings: woman in ilyria, sexism, wing clipping, angst, mentions of violence

1k words

Masterlist :)

“Those peaks right there, that is where I want to go.” You told Rhysand, pointing to the tallest peak of all the snowy mountains that surrounded Windhaven. He laughed, a sweet, low rumble as he moved his fingers through your dark-as-night locks of hair. 

“Those?” Rhysand cooed, looking down at you as your head rested comfortably on his lap. You nodded, “yes, Rhys. Those.” 

He gazed down at you with all the love he held for you in his heart, violet eyes twinkling for you— only ever for you. “When I am High Lord, I will build you a house in those peaks… and right here too.” 

You blushed at Rhysand’s words, “a house there and here? Um… what if I want to stay here in Windhaven with my brother?” 

“You don’t belong here, my love, and neither do I.” His words were soft and his fingers trailed your jaw in the gentlest of manners. You agreed with him, obviously. “You’ll take me with you?” You asked him eagerly, though you knew the answer. 

“I will always take you everywhere with me. Never to be left alone again, my sweet.” He answered gently, causing you to blush hard at your friend’s words. 

You were Devlon’s little sister, and had known Rhysand since his arrival at Windhaven camp with his mother. You two were fast friends, always together, always around each other because neither of you ever tired of the other.

The two of you grew up together, and while Rhysand became handsome and strong, you became fair and gentle. You were now young adults, and still as close as ever.

You were a great beauty, so it was to no one’s surprise when the High Lord’s son lost his youthful appetite for fucking and only ever focused his energies on you. He was in love with you, and you were in love with him. 

The two of you weren’t together yet, not officially, but you might as well be because you were inseparable. Nothing or no one could come in between the two of you. Your bond— not the mating one yet— was strong. 

No, you weren’t mates, though Rhysand was sure the bond would snap any day now. 

“Devlon would rather kill you then let me leave the camp,” you mused, turning your head so you could stare at the lake that glowed in front of the two of you. You had always loved the lakes that surrounded Windhaven, it was your escape from the brutality of your home.

Rhysand snarled, “he can try. I’ll melt his mind if he ever dares come in between us.” You knew he meant it.

You pressed your lips together and sat up, “not kind.” 

Rhys took a deep breath and stared straight ahead, at the water, “your brother does not deserve my kindness. When I am High Lord, he will pay for this.” His fingers glided across the healed wound, where your wings had been clipped. 

Your wings twitched at the gentle touch, “I forgave him, Rhysand. You need to forgive him too.” 

He rolled his violet eyes. “I will never forgive Devlon for clipping your wings, nor myself for not being here… I should have known better than to leave you alone.” 

You knew he blamed himself for your clipping. You were a lucky Ilyrian female, your friendship with the High Lord’s son gave you a certain type of immunity to the wing clipping. Well, you used to be lucky. 

One night, a year ago, Rhysand had to leave to attend a ball in another court. He had wanted to bring you, but his father did not approve. You thought, and assured him, that nothing would happen to you. But your brother, your cruel brother, came into your hut as soon as Rhysand stepped foot outside of camp.

He didn’t come alone, no. Devlon came with four other males, they pinned you to the floor and clipped your wings— leaving them crippled for life. You were heartbroken, but you never held a grudge to Devlon— as you knew that the clipping was a centuries old tradition that would never be changed. 

You just had the bad luck of being a female in Ilyria. 

When Rhysand found you the next day, bleeding and crippled, he turned the camp upside down. Though at the end of the day, he couldn’t punish Devlon. His father didn’t care about Ilyrian females, and when Rhysand tried to get justice for you, the High Lord simply waved his son off. 

So he promised you, and himself, that when he was High Lord— he would avenge you and your wings. 

“Harboring hate in your heart is not right, Rhys.” You muttered, reaching your hand to caress his cheek in a gentle manner. He leaned into the touch, always seeking comfort in you.

Rhysand loved you so much. He could not understand how you were still so pure hearted, even after everything you had gone through in Windhaven. You were a rose, a flower, that had somehow grown in ice frozen ground. 

“I may hate, but I also love.” He said softly, nuzzling his head in your neck, planting a soft kiss upon it. You knew he loves you, you knew it well, and he knew you loved him. Your love was no secret. 

“Please, go live with my mother.” Rhys begged, leaving soft tender kisses all over your neck. You sighed, knowing he would bring that request up again. It was his new fixation, having you move to live with his mother and sister until he finished training.  

He didn’t want you in Windhaven, you were not made to be there. His mother adored you, had watched you grow up— she would gladly foster you away from the camp, but you didn’t want to leave. You don’t want to leave Rhys behind, because you knew that it would be a while before he joined you.

“I don’t want to leave you…” He groaned at this statement. “Please… you need to be safe. This war camp is not made for you….” Rhysand pleaded, trying his hardest not to pressure you but failing, because he needed you to be safe. 

You sighed. “I will go.” 

Rhysand perked up. “You will?” 

“Yes. But not without you.” 

-

Author’s note:

A small blurb because i love this song and it somehow reminds me of rhysand

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria

[danikamariewrites]

what do you think about brattamer boys or feysand or nessian?👀 like reader is having a massive attitude and is being spoiled and they aren’t having any of it😋

Brat tamer ACOTAR Throuples

A/n: I couldn’t pick one so here’s a very short collection of all three lmao (this is all I could come up with for now apologies 🫣 might expand later idk)

Warnings: brat reader

Bat boys x reader

You’re their spoiled little princess

You can do no wrong even when you have an attitude bc your the sweetest thing in their eyes

Rhys gives into you most, he’s awful at disciplining you when you’re a brat

Cassian is stern but you can break him half the time. But when he’s serious your attitude determines your punishment

When Cass is in charge of punishing you It ranges from spanking to having Az restrain you while Cassian over stimulates you and doesn’t let either of them touch you no matter how much you beg

Azriel absolutely spoils you and gives you the most attention but the second your attitude changes he’s putting you in your place

Feysand x reader

Both give in to your demands way too easy

They secretly love your bratty attitude

Love spoiling you, fueling your ‘I deserve everything I demand’ attitude

You love their punishments

Nessian x reader

Nesta is the super strict one

Cassian gives in saying, “but Nes, look at this face. Our baby didn’t do anything.”

You hate having your time with them interrupted

You once threatened to feed Devlon to Bryaxis when you went to Windhaven with for a work trip

They didn’t punish you for that but Cassian was shaken at the name drop

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Eight

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. More angst, PTSD/nightmares, misogyny, threat of physical punishment ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're still at Windhaven, and you can't help that rage that builds by the day.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven

After a week, your nights were full of nightmares that entailed your wings getting clipped, being beaten to a pulp by your father, and (oddly enough) a young Azriel and Cassian getting ripped to shreds by an older Illyrian. Why it had been Cassian AND Azriel, you had no idea. But it didn’t sit well with you as you got up everyday and trained with the other females while Cassian went to different war camps. He never mentioned which one. 

You argued with him when he said he would need to go to another camp instead of train you. And since both Rhys and Azriel were busy with their own missions, that meant you wouldn’t train. But Cassian gave you the option to train with the females at Windhaven or to wait for him to come back at the end of the week. You would have said no, had it not been for what you’d seen that first day. How their commander wasn’t even training them, just letting them run around in circles, doing what looked to be endurance training. And maybe a little heavy weight training, if they were lucky. So you decided training with them was better than not training at all. And it would help you as emissary, especially if you could get the girls to start sparring and not just exercising. 

When the male commander didn’t even help the girls with their warm up stances, you had your shadows nudge them enough so they corrected it. And then, they actually moved on from their constant loop of motions to sparring. Just like you had hoped. There were five girls today, and then you. You paired with one named Ragna. Her skin was darker than anyone else you’d seen, and she had pointed ears which told you that she was only half Illyrian. Though she had wings. And she was the one that showed the most promise. You were surprised they even let her train if she wasn’t full Illyrian, but then again, neither was Rhys. Though you had a feeling Devlon didn’t have much of a choice with him as a High Lord’s son.

You helped her with her placement, chiding remarks that you remembered Cassian saying to you back at the House. You learned quickly, and it was easy enough to see what she was doing wrong. Two days were just spent in the mirror, Cassian showing you all the ways you made yourself vulnerable. You wondered if these females would ever be shown that. They hadn’t moved past the warm up exercises until earlier in the week when you joined. And Cassian mentioned they should have been training for the past month and a half. They should be far past your training level… or farther than they were. But they didn’t have a trainer that was willing to help them. 

So, here you stood, sparring with Ragna. You saw the male, Calder, approach as you let her sweep your feet from under you. You asked her to do it, and wanted to show her the proper technique. “And now you just allowed your opponent a break from standing.” He mocked Ragna. 

You glared up at him and stood up, shaking your wings so the dirt would fall off. “She gave herself an advantage.” You snapped. “And executed it perfectly, too.” You said, giving her a small smile before you examined the green Siphon Calder had on his hand. The one and only. Granted, there could be another one if it was exposed in his armor like Cass and Azriel. But it didn’t, Cass already told you the males that had two Siphons. And Calder wasn’t one of them. 

“I don’t see how you could know with your back on the floor. Though that’s probably where you spend most of your time. Especially with that bastard that calls himself our Lord Commander.” He scoffed. You cleaned your fists and walked closer to him, your shadows shooting out from you to swirl around his arms in a frenzy. They wouldn’t restrain you from this male as they had done for Cassian.

“You might be careful how you speak about our Lord Commander.” You growled, restraining yourself from hitting him square in the face. 

“Fond of the bastard?” He chided. You felt your nails dug into your skin. If he said one more thing…. “I bet you enjoy being in that cabin all alone with him. That’s why he’s allowing you to train. So he can have you with your legs spread-“

He didn’t finish the rest of the sentence. You knocked his jaw with your fist. Just how Cassian taught you to. He stumbled back from it. And then you had your shadows restrain him as he staggered forward, ready to repay the favor. “Speak one more word about it and you’ll find these shadows strangling your neck. And maybe snapping some bones too.” You ground out. Not that you even knew how to do that with your shadows. But Cassian’s told you about how Azriel’s done it before. If he ever bothered to train you, one day you would. For the time being, Calder didn’t know you couldn’t do it. But you’d bet your salary that he knew Azriel could. And that was enough for his eyes to widen. 

You backed up, taking a deep breath before you let go of your shadows, watching them return to the comfort of your shoulders. 

“Shadowsinger!” You heard a voice call. Not any voice, Devlon’s voice. “Out of the ring, now!” 

You whipped your head, noting that he probably watched the entire encounter. You huffed and glared at Calder as you walked towards Delvon. “What?” You said, trying to bury that rage that burned in your chest. 

“You know the punishment for laying a hand on your commander without him provoking you?” He asked, his arms crossed on his chest. The look you gave him was answer enough. “For a female, it’s two extra hours of chores.” 

“I don’t have chores here. And he isn’t my commander.” You said simply, not taking your eyes off him. 

“For males, it’s ten lashings.. which one would you prefer?” He ignored your statement, leaning against the fence of the ring. 

“Who says he didn’t provoke me? Because he was insulting-“ 

“Insults are not provocations. Words are not provocations. Unless he hit you or it was a training exercise, it was without provocation.” He stated. “Lashings or chores?” He asked. 

“Neither.” You replied with gritted teeth. He was starting to get on your nerves. 

“You know, I wonder what your father would think when he finds out where his little girl ran away to. And a Shadowsinger, too… he’d be pleased to know where she was after all these years.” Devlon said, a small smirk sliding onto his face. 

You bristled, not holding back the swallow that forced its way down your throat. The thought of your father knowing you were here terrified you. “He wouldn’t care,” you lied. Your father would be furious… Furious that you were still alive. That you made something of yourself without him. 

Before Devlon could call you out for the lie, or for the fear that replaced the rage, Cassian landed beside you. 

“What’s going on?” He asked. 

“I hit Calder and Lord Devlon wants me to do chores because of it.” You answered. 

“Or take the lashings. It’s whatever she chooses. Your High Lord is so enthralled to offer them a choice, so I’m letting her choose.” He said. Your High Lord. You didn’t miss the blow.

Cassian looked at you, and you looked up at him, a bucket of shame washing over you as you saw the disappointment in his eyes. He didn’t say anything as he grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the ring. “I’ll handle it.” He said simply and you stumbled after him. You yanked your arm from his hold when you were enough ways away from Devlon, almost to the cabin. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, flaring out your wings for balance as he whirled on you. 

“What am I doing? What are you doing? I told you to be nice. And you punched him? The one trainer that actually agreed to train the females and you punched him?” He asked, clearly holding in his anger. “Not to mention the stunt you pulled two days ago.” He said. 

You almost snickered at the memory. You had your shadows help the females finish their morning chores and you took them out for training yourself. Devlon was furious when he saw you training with the practice weapons. And Cassian wasn’t too happy that you were trying to train them, considering you didn’t know how to use weapons or techniques properly. Let alone teach them. 

But you held the snicker at the rage that bristled around him. “He was insulting you. He was calling you a bastard and insinuating that you were training me because I was sleeping with you-“ 

“I don’t care what he was saying.” He looked around, pulling you towards the cabin at a pace you had to run to keep up with. Once you made it inside, he asked, “Where is all this coming from? You haven’t even shown a drop to anger the past two months. And now it’s practically all I see from you here. What’s wrong?” 

You faltered, catching your breath. You went to answer that nothing was wrong, but you stopped short when you sensed another male in the corner of the room. Not only smelled him but felt that familiar tug. The one that slightly decreased during your training here. He was hiding in his own Shadows. “Azriel,�� you said, your eyes on him immediately. 

Cassian whipped around. “Mother above… Az what are you doing here?” He asked. 

“I heard how your introduction with Devlon went, and the incident the other day, and I figured you might be able to use my help.” He said. 

“You never come here willingly. Did Rhys send you?” Cassian asked. 

“No, I did come here of my own will. Only to help (Y/N).” He said. “My spies are doing their jobs. And I think I should indeed stop brooding in the shadows and help you train. And I won’t leave this time.” He said, only looking at you. Whatever resolve to ignore you seemed to have disappeared. And it didn’t help that bubbling anger inside of you. 

“Fine, but you’re taking her to the mountains.” Cassian said. 

You whipped your head to Cassian. “What?” You asked. 

“You’ve got unbridled rage here for some reason. The better place to train will be away from it. And if Azriel trains you, you’ll need the space while learning about your shadows.” Cassian explained. 

“This isn’t because I punched Calder, is it?” You asked. 

Azriel stepped out of the shadows, and you saw his head shake as a small side smirk came to his lips. “You punched your commander?” He asked, something that mirrored pride washing over his face. It was gone in a blink.

“He isn’t my commander. And he was being a prick.” You snapped. 

“Cassian used to beat his trainer to a pulp sometimes.” He teased. You hadn’t seen this side of him before. 

“And I got the lashings because of it. Don’t encourage her. She isn’t helping us at all.” He said. 

“No? Did she not just show Calder that she wasn’t going to take his bullshit? Any other male would have done the same thing. Even you.” He said to Cass.

“How do you know it was a fair shot?” You asked. 

“My shadows got here long before I did.” Azriel said. “I hate this place, these camps. But that doesn’t mean I can’t watch from a distance.” He said. 

“Go pack, you’ll leave when you’re done.” Cassian said, obviously having enough, and nodded towards your room. 

“I-“ 

“Go.” He said. “You’ll be gone for 4 days.” 

You held back the urge to roll your eyes and walked up the stairs to pack a bag for the journey. And you vaguely heard them talking about the route and where you would go. You didn’t bother to ask your shadows to listen. You would learn what you needed to soon enough.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the double release! Something special is in store for the next chapter!

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[bloodycassian]

FRENZIED !!!NSFW!!! 18+ - READER X AZRIEL ABO FIC

/KNOTTING, VIOLENCE ‘TAKING’ MENTION - NO NON CON/

18+18+18+ NSFW  ABO FIC READER X AZRIEL ACOTAR --

Truth teller ached in Azriel’s grip - he held on to the blade so hard he’d felt his knuckles crack with the next swing. Males of all sorts had broken free of their ranks the moment they’d scented you - and now his most loyal were helping him push the squadron back. 

He knew this was a bad idea. He’d known the moment Devlon’s united army had laid eyes on you that he was risking the one thing he actually cared for in this world. 

He’d never forgive himself for this. Not in this lifetime, or the next. Putting you at risk - allowing you to follow him into this war was only so he could keep you safe in the first place. So he’d know that even in Velaris was overtaken while he was away, that you were at his side and not trapped in the city. 

He’d tried his best not to kill the males that surged forward, but his protective instinct was to do just that. To slice and cut through each one of them that dared threaten you. His teeth ached to bite down on someone, to rip flesh from bone and tear them apart for even glancing at you. 

“Go! Just take her and go, Azriel!” The commanding - no… pleading - voice came from down the line, where his first officer shoved a blond haired fae backwards into the crowd. Azriel spared a look over his shoulder,tucking his wing down so he could see you. Wide eyed and pale, aside from the flush of heat to your cheeks. You clutched your bag in one hand, a butter knife in the other. He saw the fear with that knife and nearly roared. His mate - his everything defenseless aside from a scrap of metal. 

He disappeared in a second, leaving the male he pushed against falling onto their face in the mud where Azriel had been standing. The next second, his wing was covering you from the crowd, pulling you close to him. The scent of him had your body weak, begging to be closer to him.

 “I’m going to get you out of here, okay? We’re going to be fine.” He uncurled your fingers from the small knife and guided your hand instead to his shoulder, right over his siphon there. The warmth from it was grounding, allowing you to ease even while the shouting from the lines grew louder. Distantly, you heard someone shouting - the ringing in your ears was too overpowering to make out what they said though. Before you could ask him a question, Azriel summoned a blanket of shadow, and stepped into it.

“Open your eyes.” He coaxed. You hadn’t realized how hard you were squinting against the darkness until he said the words. 

The brightness of the snow was a shock at first, but became a comfort. The sight of the untouched cold meant that this area was free of any that would attempt to take you from him. To steal away an Omega was like an act of war among Alphas, but many were desperate enough in these times to attempt it. War meant males vying for power. Having a new offspring of your own meant your title could live on through them. Having that kind of generational power was the kind of thing that any unbound male would risk. 

However terrifying it had been to be so seen… it was oddly thrilling. The thought of being wanted by so many males sent another wave of heat to the core of your stomach. Your hormones flexed and reached - clamoring for relief. You fought not to whine to Azirel… You were sure that he had enough going through his head right now. He’d just abandoned his position at the brink of battle. 

“You should go back.” You offered, though you didn’t mean it in the slightest. With how close he’d been to you, the troops would be distracted by the scent. Your heart hurt, knowing that you’d likely lost this battle for them. Even if they’d been… hungry for you…. You still were a part of their ranks. Among the army that Azriel helped command, you were regarded highly among the troops. Unfortunately for your anatomy however, that did not mean that instincts didn’t take over at the first sign of heat. 

“I know you don’t want that.” He said, voice a bit gruff as he tucked his wings back. A shiver of cold ran over your body, and he took your bag from your hand. “I want you to go through that clearing -” He stood behind you and crouched to point at your eye level, to a thicket of brush and trees. There was the slightest path worn through them, market only by a few flagstone slabs embedded into the frozen ground. A makeshift path. A flare of nerves hit you, but he gripped your shoulder reassuringly. “And get in the springs. It’ll be hot at first, but you’ll ease into it. I will be there in a few minutes to join you.” 

Before you could question it, he was gone. He’d tucked a bar of soap into your hand and taken your bag, leaving you without anything to dry off with after. “You forgot something!” You called to the empty forest. No response came. He was the one who could transport himself wherever, he could go back and get you a towel if he forgot it.

You parted the branches, cringing when your fingers met slushy snow. The trail was dark, the canopy overhead hardly allowing any light through. There were no signs of animal life, not even birds. It was eerily silent for your walk, until you came to the next clearing. 

The scene was like a painting. If you had any doubts about your location they were strewn away that instant. This was technically still Illyria, but on the southern edge, where the cliffs and mountain edges turned into flat, unforgiving stone, broken up only by moss carpeted boulders. The ground around the stone pools were damp, the water itself steaming into the cool air. In the distance, obstructed by the brown gray of naked trees was a long, skinny waterfall. The roar of it an echoing torrent in the background, giving way to the foreground of water streaming from the natural hot springs before you.

Choosing what one to bathe in wasn’t hard. The one closest was the one Azriel had obviously intended for you to use, as your bag and towel lay folded on the dry rock aside it. The moss against your bare feet was squishy, a comfort to your blistered toes.

He’d been right. The water was scalding in comparison to the snow kissed air. Inch after inch though, you finally managed to submerge your entire body until the idea of getting out seemed like a crime. Your muscles loosened, and a fine layer of sweat broke out on your brow. This was good. This was very, very good. 

“Seems like you’re the one forgetting something.” His voice startled you, sending waves across the pool. 

“Gods… dont do that.” You breathed, rubbing a hand across your face. Had you really fallen asleep? The thought of being so reckless made your heart race. 

He undressed quickly, and eased himself into the water faster than you had. “You should be more aware of your surroundings.” He scolded, and held up the bar of soap in his hand. 

“Forgive me for believing my mate brought me to a safe place.” You chided back. The soap was the standard one given to all the military, though it was rarely used. 

He watched as you scrubbed yourself, the corner of his lip curling up when you dug your nails into the bar to get the dirt from beneath them. Wordlessly, he offered his help when you finished scrubbing your neck. He knew this routine by heart. Nothing needed to be spoken to complete this ritual. He took the bar and circled over your back, rubbing in small circles and pressing into the pressure points he knew you kept your tension in. 

Then he cupped his hands together and washed the remnants off, tossing the soap beside his clothes. He pulled your back against his chest and cradled you there a moment, enjoying the feeling of you so close to him. Needing the reassurance that you were here, and you were his and safe. 

He felt your smile against his cheek. “Is that the soap or are you-” 

“I’m very…” He cut you off with a pull, bringing you down on to his lap even more. His cock jutted through your thighs proudly, sending a new kind of heat through your body. “Very happy to see you.” His voice was rougher, more raw than it had been when he’d started speaking. 

Your mind was at a loss for what to say in return. All that came forth was the urgent need for him. The sweet way that he rubbed himself between your legs was nothing in comparison to what you’d wished he would do. “My mate… my Omega.” He muttered, hands tracing up your thighs between his strokes. 

He didn’t dare touch your clit. Not yet. He hadn’t toyed with you enough yet. Azriel loved these games, loved to make you wait until you were near breaking for you to come. His own patience for waiting was much thinner. His hands palmed everywhere but your slicked cunt. He pressed your lips together, massaging every part he could without giving you what you needed. 

“Please-” You panted, arching your back against him and grinding down on him. His hands stilled, and you felt his cock strain as he regained control. His forehead fell to your shoulder where he bit a soft mark. “Azriel… I need you.” You panted, moving against him for emphasis.  The tip of his perfect cock tapped the slick entrance of your sex and you both gasped in unison. 

In a rush of cold air, he was moving. 

You curled against him while he carried you. First out of the pool, then to the bag. His steps were sure and strong - hardly leaving you out of the water long enough to get cold before he stepped through a window of shadow and into darkness.

This time you kept your eyes open. Waiting for the moment you were safe to drop to your knees and service him. Only you didn’t spot the transition from stepping through and being in the cave, and he was on you as soon as it was finished. One second you were in total darkness, and the next it was… still dark. It was black, but you had him. And he guided you on cold floors until a light finally emerged - orange embers illuminating a stone fireplace. A dark leather couch low to the ground and covered in blankets and hides. A rug beneath itmade of some kind of thick material. There wasn’t much else, besides the charcoal drawings that flickered in and out of sight above the fire. 

It was pleasantly warm here, but there was still a bite in the air. Enough of it that it made a shiver crawl through your body. To this, Azriel brought you to the couch where he toweled the water from your body - almost like he was painting and wanted to savor every single drop that he wiped from you. The gentleness he brought with every touch had you melting further, and warming quickly. 

Eventually he reached your thighs again, and small swipes of the towel turned into soft kisses. You closed your eyes and reveled in the sensation. His hot mouth against your skin was a blessing and curse. Though it brought you pleasure, it burned through you - puressuring your need to extremes. The kisses turned into long licks up, up.. Up until he had you spread before him. Your hand went to his curled hair and squeezed. He groaned, and a hand went to your breast, pinching your nipple while he tongued over each fold of you. Your core ached. You needed more. The feeling of being so empty yet so stimulated was overwhelming. 

You needed him. You needed him hard and fast and however he wanted to fuck you. Your mind went wild with the different ways you wanted him to bury himself inside you. Even a finger.. Gods if he’d just give you that you’d be -

His tongue entered you, the hotness of it undeniable. He darted in and your eyes flashed open… only to see a determined, dark eyed male that.. Fuck… he looked hungry.  You Pulled his hair, noting the easy compliance he allowed to angle himself perfectly to your entrance. He fucked you with his tongue, groaning when you squeezed around him. He tasted you, indulging in the source of your wetness for long minutes until finally swiping up to your clit, groaning when you arched and bucked against him. 

To that he responded, pulling you down the couch and bringing your knees over his shoulders. He buried his tongue against you, slowly flicking at your nub, then sucking for a moment. He repeated this rythym, over and over until you were on the verge of orgasm. 

Then he stopped. He pulled back wiped his hand over his mouth, then stroked it along his ready, dripping cock. “You know it wont last as long. I can make you-”

“Then fuck me, you asshole!” You whined, scooting forward on the couch until his cock was in your mouth. He hissed, only allowing you a few pumps before pulling away. 

“You know I want to.” His eyes locked on to yours and you nodded. He always had you start on top. With his size, it made it easier to adust that way. You traded places with him, then lowered yourself over his waiting length. This part… just before your bodies met was one of your favorites. Having him so ready, waiting below you… it made you feel like he was the one who needed this. Truthfully… you thought he did sometimes. 

His cock ready, you slid on to him with ease. The satisfying fullness of him was never something you’d be bored of. His cock surged, twitching inside you and against your walls when he was fully seated. He sighed, head tilting back and hands gripping your hips. “So fucking good-” He chanted filthy things in your ear over and over until you pulled off, and slid back down. You felt the catch of his knot already forming and smiled. 

“My alpha is so needy… already going to knot me?” 

He barked a short laugh and in one fluid motion, sat up and adjusted your legs around him. Still connected, you could feel that he slipped out, only slightly. “I’m going to knot you..” He gripped your ass and pulled you up, then edged you back down on to him, the base of the knot barely beginning to stretch your lips. “When you’re coming on me. When I’m fucking-” He did it again, harder this time, allowing more of the knot inside you. “Ready to. When I feel like you’ve earned it.” Gods. He was cruel. Truly. He knew you loved it too, laughing when your walls clenched around him. “Such a fucking perfect pussy for me baby…” He guided you up and down on him at an easy pace, putting his other hand between you to rub against your clit. 

You were writhing in the pleasure of it, blind to anything else around. The fire popped and cracked while he fucked you slow, building and building you to the finish that you’d waited for since you woke up in this heat. You’d tried taking care of it yourself… only to find that when you put on your armor, the friction of it against your cunt was overstimulating. 

The thought of being in that armor now… while he fucked you was alarming. The reminder of the males fighting in the ranks to get to you… it had been scary, yes.. But overwhelmingly satisfying. The idea that any one of them would have gladly taken you as theirs… it was exciting. It boosted your ego more than it should have. Knowing that even beta males had scented you and wanted you..

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, pressing down especially hard when he asked, pulling you from your fantasy. “I can scent it on you… you’re imagining something.” 

You gasped with his next thrust. Gods his knot had surged with the smell of your sex flaring in the room. “The males… the soldiers.” You managed between breathy moans. His knot pressed against your lips hard now, growing larger with every thrust, waiting to be locked into your walls. 

“I’d kill them all.”

“No.. I mean -” You gasped when his hand left between your legs to go to his lips, where he tasted you, and wet his fingers. “Just the thought of them.. Wanting me. All of them wanting me, to fuck me -  I mean.” Your words caught him by surprise, and instead of his hand returning between you, he guided you down to the floor. 

“You like that? Knowing that so many males want to fuck you?” He bent you over so you were on your hands and knees, nudging your knees far apart while he was behind you. His hands caressed the backs of your thighs, sending goosebumps over your skin. Your heartbeat went wild in your ears, nearly blocking out your own words. 

“Yes.” You breathed, waiting for his next touch. 

“Knowing how they’d all want to take you and fuck you differently… how some of them would fight over this perfect pussy of yours?” Gods… he knew you so well it.. It needed no explaining. Now he would just abuse your fantasy to get you to come faster. Here he was hardly trying, only speaking and he had you squirming back against him, arching and begging for anything to fill you.

He complied. His finger entered your wet slit first, pumping deep before pulling out to play at the entrance. the sight of you desperately pumping against him made his cock ache. He knew he wouldn’t last long if he had his way with you like this. So he kept talking, knowing how you’d fantasize about his words when he wasn’t around. He knew you, what you liked so well… teasing was one of both your favorites. He rubbed his dripping cock against your ass while he fingered you. “You wish I brought one with us? I’m sure they wouldn’t be opposed… I’d let you pick whoever you wanted, whatever cock you wished to fuck you.”

“No-” You managed, fully playing into what he mapped out now. 

“Oh…” He smiled and pushed his finger deeper into your slick. “You want them to take you… You want another male to be worthy enough to fight and win you… to deserve to fuck you with me.” Fuck, would he be willing to share you? Was it possible for him? Right now all he wanted, all he could imagine was fucking you full of his knot until you were dripping with his seed. 

“You want to be taken and made undone by me and another… another powerful male.�� He curled his finger with the word and you cried out. Fuck, he couldn’t take this teasing anymore. He pulled out, admiring the groan of displeasure you made. This fantasy could be indulged again. He could whisper his ideas to you while you slept, if he wished. As for actually making it happen? Another time, perhaps. 

He guided his cock to your slit, rubbing the length of himself along your wetness, coating it with your arousal. “Yes..yes, yes Azriel-” His name in that tone, that needy, desperate tone sent him over the edge. He was done teasing. He was done playing. His knot bulged hearing your raw, throaty voice moan his name. His shadows melted to the floor, leaving him completely undone while he slid into your wetness fully. 

His head rolled back and he curled over your back, holding himself up with one hand while he arched over you. His other hand went to knead your breast, pulling you in time with each of his thrusts. 

The fullness of his knot slid in and out, tapering perfectly with every re entrance of his cock. He started steadily, then grew more erratic as your walls fluttered around him. His teeth went to your shoulder where he sucked a deep bruise into the skin there, enjoying the sight of it. He had you now… his… perfectly shaped, perfectly arched before him… He nearly came watching you push back against his thrusts. “Want that knot, dont you baby?” He slapped a hand against your ass and started penetrating you deeper, moving one foot forward and leaning into every stroke of his cock. 

He could feel your tension, could feel every second of your walls ready to milk him of his come. The moans were constant now, an unending song of pleasure echoing through the room from both of you. Gods what had you made of him? What was this power he had over you as an alpha? Having you quivering below him, needing him like this? It was sick, truly… but you loved every second of it. “Azriel… Knot, I want your knot-” Your hand went between your legs, fingers adding to his pleasure while you scissored apart your lips, feeling the bump of his knot going in and out of your entrance. His eyes rolled back, and a surge of precome slicked his next thrust. His thrusts became frantic, building selfishly at a punishing force that you reveled in until he was catching more and more on your rigid entrance.

He bowed over you again, enjoying the sound and feel of your ass slapping against his hips as he fucked you. He slowed, though - and you knew he was close. You pressed your fingers to your clit and circled quickly, catching up in perfect time while he held his cock inside you, seating his knot deep into your entrance for a few seconds  and pulling out again. Your walls spasmed, ready to collapse over the edge and into bliss… but he hadn’t finished yet. “Azriel!” You begged, pushing your ass into him just as he moved forward. His knot hit your entrance, and it did not slip back out.

You came. Shuddering and gasping and writhing around his length, you fell into the toe curling abyss of euphoric relief. A weight filled you, expanding your walls as they desperately tried to squeeze down around him. Your orgasm brought you to your elbows, arching your back even more and pulling on him until….He grunted, and you felt his warmth spurting inside you a moment later, his knot swollen inside your entrance, sealing his seed inside. He pushed further inside, the pressure of his knot filling you making your orgasm extend more and more. You rode it, pushing back against him while he came into you. 

He was moaning, or saying something.. You couldn’t tell, but the bulb of his cock was so exquisitely filling you came around him with ease a second time. His wings went limp around your bodies while you spasmed around his length. He was so perfectly filling, stretching your walls to the exact point you needed… you finally felt calm for the first time that day. Not sated of the need that heat brought.. But calm, at least.

You’d been fucked raw, and were happy. 

He helped you settle comfortably on the rug, spooning you while his size dissipated, enjoying the leaking mess he’d made of his perfect fuckdoll. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you like that fantasy too.” You muttered against his forearm. 

[sapchat]

Even more hot concepts for acotar:

Mor’s!sister (who she’s basically disowned as her sister) x Eris Vanserra or even better Azriel. Like imagine pining after someone for like 500 years and then you find out your mates with their sister. /being engaged to someone, breaking it off cuz she ain’t a virgin now (def a cover story can’t tell me it ain’t) and then finding out you’re mates with their sister.

Vanserra!Reader x Azriel is such a great concept to me cuz we know he has some dislike towards fire because of what happened. Now imagine being mates to someone who can weld it. The mother must hate him 🙄😏

Tamlin’s!Sister reader x LITERALLY ANYONE FROM THE NIGHT COURT. Like this story from @readychilledwine is a tamlin sister x rhys x azriel PLUS smut 😩🥵 amazing concept fucking beautiful !

Devlons!Daughter x Cassian or Azriel: being the commanders daughter and being in love with someone he absolutely hates/fears. Even more possible angst if Devlon had your wings clipped (we know he’s the type to be like “I’ll follow rules” *clips daughters wings and bans from training* 😩

Eris Vanserra x Reader: Just any concept of being Eris’ mate and a lower class than him is my favorite and him doing what he can to protect you from his father so he doesn’t have to see you be killed like Lucien saw Jesminda.

Priestess!Reader x Azriel: I feel that’s kinda self explanatory I mean come on he rescues you after being attacked, you decide to stay and help where you can with what little powers you have.

Hot take for a story concept:

Mor has a younger sister, one born a few years after the war and Mor has some type of disdain to her because “she has it easy” but we all know that kier a dick. And like Mor’s entire thing is “you know me and you know my word is truth”

Meanwhile her sister is just “If my sisters word is truth, it must be believed that mine must be lies. She was not the only dreamer born in this haunted place.”

[esotericvixen]

Hey y’all! For a while now, I’ve wanted to write pieces of work for the A Court of Thorns and Roses (ACOTAR) series by Sarah J. Maas, but I didn’t have the courage (nor the time) to do so. But thankfully, now I do! I also want to do this to improve my writing skills…👀

Therefore, I’ll be accepting requests for headcanons and oneshots/imagines. (I may accept series/longer fic requests in the future...or maybe even write continuations to oneshots, idk). As stated in my bio, I’m only writing for ACOTAR at the moment (but I’ll add a list of series/standalones I’ve read, and series/standalones I’ll potentially write for in the future).

I want to go into the (character) x reader territory, but I don’t mind using canon (or non-canon) ships in the requests (ex: Batboys! x reader, Nessian x reader, etc.) I will write for all characters unless specified otherwise.

Characters I will NOT write for:

King of Hybern

Brannagh

Dagdan

Briallyn

Bryaxis

Ianthe

Koschei

Suriel

The Weaver/Stryga

There are other characters, but they're so minor that I highly doubt anyone would request them (but if someone does, I'll probably let them down gently)

Characters (or ships) that I'd LOVE to write: 🥴🤩

POLY SHIPS (plz, there's barely enough in the fandom)

Cassian, Helion, Tarquin, and Amren (my favorite ACOTAR characters, if you request them...I may propose to you) 💎💍

Varian

Azriel

Nesta

Cresseida

Eris Vanserra

Kallias

Lucien Vanserra

For other characters, if they’re not in the lists above, still feel free to request them (unless stated otherwise)! It’s just that the second list is full of characters that I know I’ll enjoy writing for the most.

Content I will NOT write:

Sm*t (Not comfortable with it, nor anything of the like such as handj*bs, blowj*bs, etc.)

R*pe/Non-Consentual s*x or elements

Also, please specify if you want the request to be platonic, romantic, or etc!

Constructive criticism is allowed and appreciated!

Lastly, this may be the only post where I properly use uppercase letters. I mainly use lowercase letters (and rarely uppercase letters) for aesthetic purposes ☺️

Here's the hyperlink to the post where I talk about other series I've read and if I may write them in the future!

[nattblacklupin]

Fierce protector

Pairing: Lord Devlon x fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, illyrian soilders inappropriately touching reader (nothing too intense), fighting? (Not really, but still), kinda suggestive at the end but no smut

Summary: Lord Devlon protects his mate no matter what

Masterlist

Everyone in Windhaven was scared of Lord Devlon, one wrong move or word, and he will destroy you the next training. He was especially fierce about training the women in the camp, his mate helped him realise they could be good and useful fighters too. Now it takes one bad word about any woman in the camp, and you got it. Training or, in worst case, punishment that will surely teach everyone their place.

Today was one of these days, and Devlon wasn't letting them go easy today. They spoke too openly about his mate. They should be glad he didn't kill them. Just the thought of yesterday events was making him see red.

He was waiting for his mate to finish her shift in the pub. He told her uncountable times she didn't have to work and that he will take care of her, but she refused every time. Devlon wasn't happy about it, but if his mate wishes to work, he will have it and respect it. His mate matters to him the most and if he has to stay in her pub whole shift just to scare of drunk horny warriors then let it be like that, anything just too see her smile at the end of the day.

Today started as a normal night for both of them. Y/N made sure everyone got their drinks while he was making sure she is alright. The men can get quite handsy, which he totally won't tolerate, not with any woman and totally not with his mate.

"Hello pretty, could you please give us three shots?" One of the soilders yelled at you. He immediately turned to them. It's not something new that men compliment you. He himself does that nearly every day. But he was keeping eye on them. Young warriors often didn't know when to keep their mouth shut. Their table was close to Devlon, so no word that left they shameful mouth didn't miss him. He was still left with a cold mind. Let them fantasise. You would never even get close to them in that way.

You were used to drunk men, their words just pointless part in your night. Their order was quickly done, and you started walking to their table. On your way, you shot Devlon quick smile. You missed him - like it isn't only half an hour since you last kissed him.

Everything was going smoothly, and they didn't do anything stupid till you were leaving them to take care of other orders. One of them whistled and slapped your ass. In a second, his hand was grabbed by your mate, and the soilder was on the ground.

"You wanna try that again?" Devlon growed at him. How dares he touch his mate like that? Only he can do that. The illyrian soldier was nearly peeing his pants while begging for forgiveness. Devlon didn't see through his anger, all his instincts were screaming at him to protect mate and kill any potentional threat to her.

,,Devlon, love, let him go. You can punish him on the training tomorrow. But don't let him destroy the night today. " You knew how to calm down your husband. These little angry scenes were nearly on a daily routine. Devlon could control himself, just not when it came to you, his only weakness.

,,let's go home, love. " you said and took his hand to slowly lead him away from the soilder. He luckily did let go, and his hand went around your waist. ,,talk to my mate like that one more time, and I will literally kill you." He was dead serious when he said that ,,that goes for all of you."

You quickly nodded at your coworker so they knew you were leaving. Everyone was probably happy that you decided to leave sooner, and they didn't have to deal with their angry commander.

The moment you left the pub, you kissed him. The kiss was fast and heated. Nothing sweet about it, but at the moment, you knew that Devlon needed to calm himself somehow, with what you will gladly help him further at home. Your lips left his, and you looked up to smile at him.

,,my fierce protector."

[akingdomofswordsandstories]

Tired

azriel (acotar) x reader

warnings: mentions of blood, depression

word count: 1809

Sunlight filtered through the curtains of your room and the sound of birds humming filled the room. Groggily, you opened your eyes, surveying the scene. The left side of your bed was cold and empty. Azriel must have had to head up to Windhaven earlier this morning.

Glancing to the window, you saw it was half way open. Azriel’s small gestures never failed to make you smile. He knew you loved the smell of the breeze and the fresh air. It was refreshing. A moment of peace.But recently, it got harder and harder to smile. You put on a front to alleviate suspicion. The last thing you wanted was the inner circle being worried about your problems while they were dealing with other threats.

Swinging your legs over the bed, you felt the cool breeze against them. You made your way to the bathroom, getting ready for the day. You splashed cold water onto your face to try and wake yourself up. You looked in the mirror and saw a stranger staring back. Your disgust and hatred surfaced as your grip tightened on the edge of the bathroom counter. Why were you feeling this way? You wished you could go back to normal, to the happy carefree person you were months ago. That person was nowhere to be seen and you were stuck like this, stuck in your head and your thoughts.

Azriel must have sensed something was bothering you because he brushed your mind through the bond, sending a questioning thought . You quickly played it off sending your false happiness down the bond. When you usually had your thoughts, you made sure to cut the bond off, but not for too long because Azriel would get worried otherwise.

You kept these thoughts to yourself and didn’t let anyone see them. You felt guilty for feeling like this. You should be happy, not sad. You shouldn’t loathe yourself, you had people who loved you. But your self doubt and hatred never left you alone and you didn’t want to share this burden with Az, who has already been through so much. So you kept it bottled up and to yourself, only ever letting them surface in the dark when there was nobody but you and your demons.

The swift knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. You shoved the feelings down and plastered on a smile.

“Come in! The door is unlocked”

“Hey y/n! I just wanted to let you know that Rhys and Feyre planned a dinner party at the House of Wind tonight!” Mor said

“Oh? That sounds quite last minute” you chuckled

“Yeah, something about diplomacy and putting on a strong front? I wasn’t paying too much attention. Anyway, I need a new dress for the occasion and was wondering if you wanted to come with me to the Rainbow later?”

“That sounds so lovely, but I have to run a few errands,” you lied. Your energy had seemed to have left you and you were barely keeping your front up. “You’re gonna look gorgeous in whichever dress you get” you quickly added, giving her a tight lipped smile.

Mor could sense that you weren’t yourself. “Are you feeling ok y/n? You sound a bit- off?”

“Oh yeah of course! I’m just a bit tired. I think I’m going to head down and grab a cup of coffee. You know I love my coffee.” you gave her a slight chuckle.

“Well, if you’re heading down, I’ll just come with you. I need to head out and pick up a few more things for the party anyway.”

You gave her another smile, closing the door to your room as you followed her down the stairs

---------------------------------

Today was one of your bad days. Nothing you did could get your mind off the thoughts that haunted you. Normally, you were able to distract yourself, at least for a few hours, but today you could not evade them. They were the predator and you were their prey.

The inner circle was still in Windhaven. They were probably dealing with Devlon’s excuses as to why the females weren’t training. You knew they would be getting back soon though, since the party was soon.

Making your way back into the kitchen, you pulled out a kettle and filled it with water. Putting it on the stove and letting it boil, you grabbed a tall mug and some of your favorite tea powder. The kettle whistled and you poured the water into your mug. The first sip was comforting, the warmth spreading through your body. You closed your eyes and sighed, basking in the few moments of peace you had.

The wind whistled and you heard a series of thumps on the balcony. Opening your eyes, you saw that Azriel and the others had returned. Anger was painted over his face, but it vanished as soon as he saw you. He made his way over to you, giving you a quick peck on the lips. You breathed in his scent, the wind and the pine giving you a sense of comfort.

“So how did your check up with Devlon go?” you asked

Cassian let out a loud huff before anyone could respond

“Not well, I take it?”

“He keeps giving more chores to the females to keep them out of the training ring. I wanted to break his hand right there.” Azriel answered

“Oh Az, don’t worry, next time Devlon pulls shit like that, I give you and Cassian free reign to do whatever you want with him.” Rhys grinned out

“Oh mother I like the sound of that. God knows he needs to be put in his place.” Cassian sighed

“Devlon aside, are you guys ready for the party?” Feyre asked

“Fuck yeah, I’m in desperate need of booze” Cassian yelled out, causing all of you to laugh

“It sounds like fun, but I haven’t been feeling too well, so I think i’ll just stay home tonight.” you murmured

Azriel immediately put his attention on you. “Are you ok love? Do I need to call Madja?”.

“No no, don’t worry about me, I think I just need a little rest. You go to the party and have fun though. For me.” You knew that was the only way you would get him to go.

He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

“Az, darling, i’ll be fine”

He relented. “Fine. But if I sense anything is off, I’m coming home immediately.”

---------------------------------

The other left to the House of Wind and you were finally left alone again. You wrapped yourself up in a blanket and lied down on your bed, drifting off.

A few hours later you woke up. Groaning, you made your way over to the bathroom. Gripping the counter, you stared at yourself in the mirror. You felt angry and disgusted. Your hand curled into a fist and before you could process what you were doing, the mirror shattered. You could feel the cuts on your hand, but the pain was the last thing on your mind.

Dropping your front, your thoughts and feelings flooded back into you. You felt the numbness washing over you as your feelings hounded you, ripping into you. You were so tired. You didn’t want to feel like this anymore. Why did you deserve anything?

Your self deprecating thoughts kept slamming into you.

You weren’t pretty enough. Azriel deserved better. He was only with you out of pity. He didn’t really love you. How could he ever love someone like you.

Finally the dam broke and your tears started flowing. Backing up to the wall, you slowly slid down, hugging your body, your sobs never ending.

---------------------------------

What you hadn’t realized was for a split second, your hold on the bond had faltered, and all your emotions and pain had slammed into Azriel. He almost lost his footing, clutching his heart and holding onto Cassian to keep him from falling over.

“Az? Azriel, what's wrong?” Cassian shouted

“I-, I need to go home. Don’t worry, I’m fine. I just need to check on y/n.”

Cassian didn’t have time to say anything else before Azriel disappeared into the shadows.

---------------------------------

“Y/n? Y/n! Darling, where are you?” Azriel shouted as he got home

Rushing into your shared room, he heard your sobs and made his way to the bathroom. His heart clenched when he saw you. He immediately crouched down next to you, gently picking up your body and leaning it against his.

“A- Az?” You hiccuped out, tears blurring your vision “Wha- What are you doing here? I thought I closed the bond”. Another sob left your body.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered into your hair, afraid you might break if his voice was any louder. “I could’ve helped you through this.”. One of his hands was wrapped around your bloodied one and the other one was gently rubbing your back.

“Why?” You spoke so softly that Azriel thought he imagined it.

“You deserve-” You took a deep breath to try and slow your tears, “You deserve so much more than me. Someone better than me. I’m nothing- I’m worthless. I’m not pretty enough or graceful enough. You should be with someone like Elain or Gwyn. Someone who is worthy of you. Someone who deserves your love”.

“That’s not your choice to make darling. I get to choose who I love, and I love you”

“I’m not worthy of your love” you whispered. “You shouldn’t be with someone like me. You shouldn’t have to deal with all my problems and insecurities. You should be with someone who doesn’t hate everything about themselves. You already deal with so much, you shouldn’t have this burden on you too.”. Tears burned the back of your throat.

“I’m no stranger to self-deprecation” Azriel laughed soundlessly “You’ve helped me through so many low points, it’s only fair i help you through yours. It’s what mates do. It what i’ll do, because I love you.”

“You shouldn’t” you cracked out

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” he whispered into your hair, pulling you closer to his chest. “Don’t shut me out. Please.”

At the sound of those words, you opened the bond and let Azriel see everything. You bore your soul to him and laid everything bare. You sobbed harder into his chest as he held you, sitting in the silence.

After you started feeling a bit better, Azriel lifted you up and placed you on the counter so he could clean your hand and wrap it in gauze. He quickly got changed and led the two of you to your bed.

“Did- Did you mean it?” you whispered out,

“Every word my love. Every single word.”

Pulling you close, he whispered sweet nothings till you drifted off.

[mcuamerica]

The Shadowsinger: Seven

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Mentions of wing clipping, misogyny, threat of death, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your time to act as emissary has come as Rhys needs you and Cassian in Windhaven.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Prologue - One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six

Windhaven was a lot colder than you remembered. You must have forgot how cold Illyria was, even if it was your home for the first 120 years of your life. Regadless, you didn’t let it show as you followed Cassian over to where Lord Devlon was standing over the camp. You could see the cabins, the tents, the training rings… it looked so similar to Valorworth that you almost stumbled over your feet. But you kept your stoic mask on, making sure to look unimpressed as you made your way over to them. 

“Cassian..” Devlon trailed off, scowling as he saw you. “Who is this?” He asked, eyes trailing over your shadows and to your wings. “A pet of Azriel?” He asked, already assuming your worth. 

“Another Shadowsinger.” Cassian said with a smirk on his face. “This is (Y/N). She’s going to be emissary from the Night Court to the Illyrian camps, to ensure the females are receiving proper training.” He said. 

If he was surprised by another Shadowsinger being in his midst, he didn’t show it. “Are you on your cycle?” He asked, ignoring the fact that you were an emissary and should be treated with respect. You rolled your eyes. The Illyrian males and their ways… you were going to have to get used to it again. 

“No, but it wouldn’t matter if I was.” You said. “We don’t taint objects when we bleed, just as you don’t.” You said firmly, crossing your arms. Not that any female would want to even think about fighting while on their cycle. Most times it was too painful to leave the bed. In your experience. Cauldron, you had your cycle just before you were released from Under the Mountain and Amarantha was no sympathizer when you needed the time in your chambers. Alone. To writhe in pain. 

“That is our way, and if you are to be an emissary to us, you’ll have to respect it.” He said. 

“Regardless, I am not. If you are so concerned, have your blacksmith create separate weapons for the females to use.” You stated, narrowing your eyes at him. It was a good idea, one that you might just use your salary to fund. Rhys funded practically everything else for you anyway.

Cassian cleared his throat before he could respond. “We’ll be staying in Rhys’s cabin, is it occupied?” He asked and Devlon growled out a yes. 

“You think as a camp Lord, you’d be happier to see your Lord Commander.” You snapped and crossed your arms. “I’m also pretty sure he could snap your neck, seeing as you’ve only got 2 Siphons, if he wanted to, so why don’t you show him any respect?” 

Devlon stepped towards you. “If you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll make sure you can’t even step foot in this camp or another one ever again. No matter what the High Lord wants to call you.” He growled. “I don’t see any Siphons on you, anyway.” 

“That’s because you males don’t allow females to have them. But I can assure you, my shadows will do the work for me just as easily.” You said, not backing down from his stare. He wasn’t much shorter than Rhys or Azriel, but he was definitely taller than you. 

“Okay… this is a lovely first meeting. Get your males out of the cabin. We’re going to take a look around.” Cassian said and looked at you nodding towards the camp. “I expect it to be ready in an hour.” He said before starting to walk down the hill. You stared at Devlon before following Cassian. 

“I don’t know how you put up with that.” You said. 

“He trained me, and as much of a pain as he is, he’s the most willing to change the ways of his army to what we want.” He said. “As fun as that was to watch, I suggest not threatening to snap his neck again. You want to be on his good side. Especially as a female.” He said. 

Something about being back in an Illyrian camp made your blood boil. That simmering rage was bubbling to the surface. Maybe because last time you were at one, it was for Amarantha to ensure her “allies” were truly telling her everything. Since that was the camp that turned you in, you had no problem listening to their secrets. Until you saw what she did to them. And the children. Fallen wings flashed through your mind, and you had to shake your head to come back to the present.

Your temper was already high and Devlon didn’t help. Cassian telling you that you needed to ‘play nice’ because you were a female wasn’t making you any less agitated. 

“If you can’t handle this, you can-“ he started when you marched past him. 

“Handle this?” You growled and whipped around towards him. “Do you know what it’s like to be a female in an Illyrian camp? Cause it’s a lot worse than being a bastard whose found brother is a High Lord.” You seethed, shadows whirling around your body as if to restrain you from pouncing on him. “You get seven Siphons. You get to participate in the Blood Rite and call yourself Carynthain. You get to train. You get to make decisions without having your wings threatened.” You spat, finally looking up at him. You could see the surprise in his eyes. The small amount of hurt that he let show. You immediately regretted snapping at him. You went to apologize but he shook his head. 

“You’re right. I don’t know what it’s like.” Cassian simply said. “But you haven’t been here in a long time. Nor have you been to this camp. And I’m not saying it’s much better, but these males are willing to change for us. Change their traditions for a better army. If that means meeting them in the middle, or working with them with the little they give, then we do it. Because we can’t force them to change their ways. We’ve tried and it hasn’t worked. But with your help, we’ll get there. And it won’t help anything if you threaten every male you run into. Especially if they haven’t seen what you’re capable of.” He said. 

You bit the inside of your lip, nodding your head. “I didn’t mean to call you a bastard.” You admitted. “I’m sorry.” 

“I am one. No point in denying it.” He said and winked. “Come on, let me show you around.” He said and walked in front of you. Normally, he would sling his arm over your shoulder. But that would make the Illyrians mock you further, and he knew that wouldn’t help your already rising temper. You hadn’t shown it to him yet. He wondered if Rhys had ever seen you so riled. He didn’t even know you had it in you. 

Then again, you were in a place that reminded you of a world of hurt and pain. A place that gave you no respect… other than maybe that you could provide a male child for the Illyrians one day. But even then, that wasn’t respect. 

So he didn’t let it get to him. He knew what these camps did to females. And he knew that Valorworth in particular would be a hard one to crack. They still had problems with the males clipping females’ wings. And even more of a problem with getting the girls to train out of fear they wouldn’t be accepted by their mate or would be “sullied” because they chose to fight. While in Windhaven, you would be training with Cassian. Rhys didn’t want you to train with the other females yet, not unless you wanted to… And you made it clear the day before you didn’t want to. Not yet, at least. 

“Have you ever tried a Siphon?” He asked curiously as you walked towards the training rings. 

“You’re kidding, right? The day the Cauldron boils over is the day they’ll allow a female to even try ON a Siphon. Besides, I don’t even think I have killing power to begin with.” Your said. 

“Have you ever tried?” He repeated and smirked when you shook your head. “You know, there have been female Illyrian warriors before. Not many, and not in hundreds of years, but it’s happened before.” He said. 

You looked at him skeptically. “I’ve never heard of an Illyrian female warrior. Not that fought among males.” You said. You remembered stories of the Valkyries. You even thought that Cassian might have known them, with how old he was. Rhys, Az, and him all fought in the war. The Valkyries all died then… That was the closest you heard of a female fighting in the ranks of Illyrian males.

“Have Clotho pull out books on the Erthican age, focusing on Illyria.” He said and smirked. “I think you’ll be surprised.” 

He didn’t say anything else when he approached the training ring. You saw some females training, only four, with a male who looked either displeased to be training them, or displeased with their positions. Probably both considering a) he was a male and b) their fighting posture was horrible. You were better when you started two weeks ago. But you had hunting experience. And experience under Amarantha. So you couldn’t judge them. Not when they were trying. And they seemed to want to be there. The male, however, did not. 

“This is what they call training?” You whispered to Cassian. 

“This is the best we can get right now. That’s why you’re here.” He said. “You want to show these males how far a female can come with two weeks of training?” He asked and opened the gate to an empty training ring. You were aware of the eyes suddenly upon you. 

“I’m not sure they’ll be impressed.” You said and shifted on your feet, but kept your back straight and your head high. You would not cower in front of these males. Never again.

“Trust me, they will.” He said and nodded as he motioned for you to hand him your coat. You slipped it off and set it on a rock instead. Anything that showed the males you and Cassian were more than a trainer and his trainee would show you as weak. 

The cold air almost made you shiver but you quickly got into position with Cassian to start the warm up stretches. It took no time for you both to start sparring, Cassian reminding you to pull your left foot in closer, or to pick up your left shoulder. Or to not flare out your wings so much. All gentle, small reminders, and nothing to mock you. Eventually, you grabbed the practice swords, practicing with those. You went through the eight point star, the sweeps, blocks, and parries that would all be vital to know in a fight. When you were done, you were sweating in your leathers. You were glad when the cool winter breeze glided across your skin. Your shadows had calmed during your training, trailing on the ground. And your temper wasn’t boiling anymore. It was buried deep inside, where it would stay for as long as you could keep it. Getting angry at Cassian, or any of the other Illyrian males, would only show them your weaknesses. And you wouldn’t let that happen. Maybe with Cass, but not the others. 

You looked back towards the camp, seeing a group of males that had been watching you. You couldn’t hear what they said, but you cast your shadows out with a simple wave of the hand. They scattered across the ground, then came back an instant later. “Cassian goes easy on her” “She couldn’t do that with a real sword” “She can’t take him down”. All the whispers that came back. You looked at Cassian and narrowed your eyes. 

“I want to spar for real.” You said, low enough that only he could hear it. “No swords, and no pads.” You said. “And none of my shadows helping me… let me show them what I can do. And don’t hold back.” You said. 

Cassian glanced at them and then back at you, frowning a bit. “That’s not a good idea. We’re still at the beginning of your training. But if it were to go wrong, it would have the opposite effect.” He said. 

“Cassian-“ 

“I’m still your commander. No matter what, it’s important for me not to push you. And this would be pushing.” He said. “Come on, let’s go to the cabin. It’s been two hours and we need to clean up before going through the rest of the camp.” He said, pausing when you stood your ground. “(Y/N)… we’re here for two weeks. At the end of that, I’ll fight you for real, okay?” He asked. Cassian didn’t like pulling rank, but if that would be what got you to back down, he might just have to do that. 

You thought for a moment and then nodded. “I think that would be a good Solstice present.” You joked and grabbed your coat, not daring to put it on as you were still sweating. You needed these leathers off you. And a bath. Now.

You let your shadows rest around your shoulders and arms as you walked past the Illyrian males, and some females, towards the cabin. “This is Rhys’s cabin?” You asked. 

“His mother’s actually. It was, at least… This is where Rhys, Az, and I grew up… this whole camp is… but this cabin is where she raised us. And where we got into Mother knows what when we were young.” He said and smiled fondly. It was the same smile that came to your face when you thought about Sirona, Igna, or Oran. Something nostalgic and filled with loss, but also happiness. 

“You’d give anything to go back to those days for just a few moments.” You suggested. “I know the feeling… If I could visit my home near the northern mountains again… with my family. Or when my mother was still alive… I would.” You said and looked at the cabin. 

“Come on, let’s wash up and then I can show you the rest of the camp.” He said and gave you a small smile before opening the door. 

Cassian showed you around the rest of the camp after you’d taken a bath and changed into some warmer clothes for the Illyrian winter night. The Winter Solstice was three weeks away, and you knew that it would only get colder from here. 

You wore the coat that Mor gave you (it brought the perfect amount of warmth without making you sweat under it) as Cassian led you to the female cabins. The ones that housed the females that were without husbands, mates, or males that would take care of them. You saw the four that were training earlier. They were doing housework. They didn’t seem too much older than you were when you left Valorworth. If you were to be offered a chance to train back then… you weren’t even sure if you would have taken it. Your father certainly would not have allowed it.

And then he showed you the few shops they had in town. About five, and one of them was the blacksmith. Which he said he wanted to visit quickly. You looked around and decided to go to the tailor shop you noticed, tucking in your wings as you entered the shop. “Hi,” you said as you saw a man at the small table at the back. He seemed to be a seasoned warrior, and now you guessed he ran this shop since a war wasn’t raging at the moment. Still, something of him reminded you of your father, so you stayed on edge. As you would with every male in this camp other than Cassian. “Do you have any gloves? I seem to have forgotten mine.” You said as you looked around. 

“I have wool lined or leather,” his voice was gruff.

“Leather would be best,” you said as you approached the table. 

“Emerie,” he called to the back. “Grab the female gloves… 5 copper marks,” he said as he turned back to you. 

“5? They should be worth 3,” you said and he rose his eyebrows, shocked that you suggested otherwise. 

“5, or you can find another tailor at this camp who will sell them to you.” He growled. He obviously didn’t like that a female was trying to barter with him. 

You held in a sigh and pulled out the marks, setting them on the table. You didn’t have it in you to fight with an old male today. Certainly not when he was so easily agitated by a female. 

“Here you go, father,” the female said, coming out from the back and setting the pair of gloves down. Your eyes immediately focused on her wings. The small amount of faelight showed scars that could only mean one thing. Her wings were clipped. And by the looks of it, not by a healer. You looked down at the gloves and reached out for them, but stopped when the man put his hands on top of them. 

“I haven’t seen you around here… what camp are you from?” He asked. The female named Emerie only stayed standing behind her father. Not in a scared, cowering way, but curious. 

“Technically, Valorworth. But I live down south, in- Hewn City now.” You said, remembering how Velaris was to be kept a secret from anyone you encountered outside the city. 

“Ahh… the Court of Nightmares. How does an Illyrian female Shadowsinger end up there?” He asked, his hand unmoving upon the gloves. 

You managed a glance to your shadows, frowning at his tone. “I know the right males.” You said and reached down, snatching the gloves from his hand. 

“I’m (Y/N).” You said and offered a small smile to Emerie. “I’ll be here for two weeks with Cassian,” you said, assuming everyone in the camp knew who he was. Being the commander of the Night Court’s army and all. 

Emerie didn’t reply as her father scowled, clearly not liking that you were ignoring him. You smiled at her again before turning around. “Thanks for the gloves.” You said and walked out the door.

A/N: And now we are in Windhaven! Why do we think reader is so on edge?

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