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initialchains · 11 months ago

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would you? | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: luke slowly starts to lose himself but that won’t stop you from reminding him of what truly matters.

wc: 2.6k

warnings: some manipulating and gaslighting if you squint and probably spoilers for the first book but they’re not explicitly mentioned.

a/n: HAPPY HOLIDAYS !! here’s luke as a gift <33 i’ve never written for luke before but he’s my favorite pjo character bc hes such an interesting and complex character aghh. sorry if this isnt as fluffy as you would all want, i promise i’m working on some real luke fluff.

The rays of the rising sun made the lake look far more beautiful than it always does. Sure, you were used to the warm tones that always engulfed Camp Half-Blood and it’s not like the weather ever really changed, at least not unless the gods willed it to, but the colors of the sun reflecting on the lake, the low hum of the wood nymphs singing, and the distant sounds of laughter coming from campers playing volleyball were strangely comforting.

Well, as comforting as it can be when you’re trying to find some quiet in the neverending fight that was the demigod life. It gets tiring, it always does. The fighting, the studying, the adoration of gods who didn’t even bother to give their children a sign of them caring. It was all so exhausting.

But there was peace in this small moment. You were sat in front of the lake, your legs crossed as you closed your eyes, trying to enjoy the tranquility of it all. The calm moment didn’t dare to stop your hand from finding a home in the clay beads of your camp necklace and twirling them around, a seemingly normal act to anyone who saw you, that actually was a sign of you being aware of your surroundings, a small sign of the fear you carried around, a fear that had you always prepared to draw your sword in any given moment. Not ever fully in peace. Not unless Luke was there.

“So you decided to start your morning without me? Ouch,” You turned your head at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, “A knock on my cabin’s door would’ve been enough, you know?”.

“Yeah? And risk waking the million campers that sleep in there? No, thank you. I would like to stay alive for a few more years, please.” You replied with a small smile, looking up to meet Luke’s eyes, his scar being more prominent in the morning, a red color adorning the edges of it.

He snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes before taking a seat next to you. He was silent for a moment until he muttered softly, “This is a nice view.”

“Oh, definitely. The lake always looks beautiful when the sun hits it the right way. I need to give the Apollo cabin their congratulations and some flowers for having a talented father.” You answered, your hand moving away from your necklace to hold Luke’s.

“Of course, you make my pick-up line about the gods. Can you give me a win over here? I’m trying my best.” He said with a smirk before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. It was a strange sort of thing he always did, even before you two started dating, he’d always find an excuse to hold your hand and give it a quick kiss.

“I wasn’t going to let you get away with using a corny pick-up line on me, Castellan. At least be original with it.” A giggle escaped your lips, “Also, everything is about the gods, I thought you’d be used to it by this point.”

His face fell for a fleeting second, but he was quick to mask it with a small smile. “Right, everything always is about the gods.” Luke’s eyes moved away from your face, nervously glancing at the lake after his statement.

You frowned when you heard the tone he used, he sounded almost.. bitter? You couldn’t even explain it. Luke had been acting weird ever since the camp came back from their annual visit to Mount Olympus on the winter solstice. At first, you thought it had something to do with Hermes being a total dick and ignoring him the entire night, not even bothering to give his son a pat on the back or a nod. But you’ve known Luke long enough to know he was past caring about what his father did, he was indifferent to what Hermes did–to what any of the gods did.

The two of you were silent, sitting side by side in front of the lake in deep thought. He was thinking about gods know what, and you were busy trying to understand what was going on inside his mind. You decided to break the silence first, “You okay?”.

“I’m fine, baby. Don’t worry about it.”

He was quick to answer. It was almost as if he had rehearsed it and had it scripted beforehand. It was almost as if someone else had told him what to answer. As if he was under someone else's guidance. Under someone else's control.

“Are you sure? Because it feels like you’re.. I don't know, keeping something from me?”

“I’m not keeping anything from you. I’m not keeping a single thing.”

“Right. Sorry for asking.”

Luke closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. He ran a hand through his hair and took some deep breaths, his chest moving up and down in a nonexistent rhythm, it was urgent and angry. He took a few more breaths, trying to calm himself before finally meeting your eyes again.

“I’ve told you countless times to never apologize to me if you haven’t done anything wrong,” He reminded you of the conversation you’ve had millions of times, “Don’t ever apologize to me if you haven’t physically hurt me or something, alright? You’re fine. We’re fine.”

He continued, “I’d trust you with my life given the chance. I’m not keeping anything from you, angel. You have to trust me.”

“I do.”

You didn’t see your boyfriend at all the following days. He always brushed you off by being busy with training or helping Annabeth plan for this week’s capture the flag. You weren’t the only one to notice his slight change of temper and personality, some campers from the Hermes cabin noticed it too.

He kept pushing harder on his siblings, always insisting on them doing better. He was more violent than usual during capture the flag, not thinking about it twice before proving why he is the most talented swordsman in the last 300 years.

There was also this one time he volunteered to spar with a new camper.. it didn’t go well. He kept doing new maneuvers and techniques most campers didn’t even recognize, refusing to go easy on the poor thirteen year old girl. When you asked him about it, confused at the way he went too hard on the newbie, he answered with a dry “Where’s the glory in that? She needs to be prepared for what’s about to come.” It sounded as if he knew some kind of danger was approaching. As if it was a matter of life and death for the camper to learn how to fight against him.

You decided it was enough when you saw him skipping his daily chat with Annabeth, deciding he would rather sit by himself on the steps of the Big House for a little while.

The walk from your cabin to the Big House was filled with self-doubt and twirling the beads of your necklace, you were nervous to face your boyfriend, which was stupid because he was the last person you’d ever expect to feel nervous with. When you arrived to the steps of the Big House and saw him sitting there, your mind went completely blank.

You sat next to him and asked the first thing that came to your mind, “Would you rather fight 3000 ant-sized chimeras or a chimera-sized ant?”.

An amused laugh bubbled up from Luke’s chest before he turned his head to face you, a smile taking over his handsome face. “I’ll take the 3000 chimeras, no doubt.”

You smiled back at him, ready to ask him the question you spent the last thirty minutes planning, but before you could open your mouth he said, “Would you rather not be able to consume ambrosia and nectar for the rest of your life or.. see Mr. D without a shirt?”

You threw your head back with laughter, your face going red thanks to the lack of air in your lungs due to the laughs coming out of you, “I’d rather bleed to death without ambrosia than see Mr. D with a shirt.”

“Ditto.”

You decided to indulge in this back-and-forth game, after all, you hadn’t been able to have a real conversation with your boyfriend in days... you’ll take what you can get, “Would you rather not be able to leave camp ever again or turn against the gods?”

“It would be boring to spend the rest of my life capturing a flag and growing strawberries… so I guess my answer is pretty obvious.” He answered while fidgeting with his fingers.

“You’d choose to turn against the gods?”

“Yup.”

“Huh, I guess capture the flag would be pretty hard when you’re pushing 90.”

Luke was silent, running his eyes through your face before asking, “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

He took a deep breath before replying, “Turn against the gods.”

You were silent for a few seconds, biting your lip and staring into Luke’s eyes, wondering if there was a right answer to this metaphorical question. You decided to give him an answer he’d like but also an answer you meant, “I’d go wherever you go. It doesn’t matter if it is a farm in the middle of nowhere or to the pits of Tartarus. If you’re there... count me in.”

Luke cleared his throat and a serious look took over his face, “Sure, but if the time to make a choice came… would you go against them?”.

His persistence to try and get you to answer his question was making you nervous. The more he asked you about it, the more it looked like he was genuinely considering it.

A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you nervously played with one of the beads on your camp necklace. He took notice of it. Of course he did, he knew more about you than anyone, probably even more than you know yourself.

Luke stayed silent at that, a somber look taking over his features, you could tell there was a turmoil happening inside his head. It was almost as if he wanted to let you in on a secret, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“I... um. Well, I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon—at least not in our lifetime. But like I said, I’d go wherever you go, to Tartarus and back.”

That brought a smile to Luke’s face, he looked into your eyes, probably looking for signs of you lying but finding none, and took your hand away from your necklace, lacing your fingers with his and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “To Tartarus and back, baby.”

He brought your hands down before leaning in to kiss you on the lips. There was a sense of necessity to feel your lips against his, he kissed you like the feeling of your lips was his only shot at salvation. He raised his hand to cup your cheek and deepen the kiss, craving the heat he only got whenever he kissed you.

You stopped him before he could take the kiss any further, “Luke, we’re in the middle of camp. There are children around us, if you want to make out at least take me to our spot behind the stables. Holy shit.”

Luke took a second to steady his breathing, “Sorry, angel. I’ll make sure to keep your suggestion in mind for later, though.”

“Shut the hell up, Castellan.”

The two of you spent the rest of your day being busy working on your own stuff. Luke was still sparring with some campers who were brave enough to go against him, and you were hanging out with the Dionysus cabin while they helped grow more strawberries.

You found Chris sitting in the amphitheater and asked him if he had seen your boyfriend, he replied with an annoyed, “He’s probably in bed or something, I don’t know.” You decided to not ask Chris if he was okay and walked straight to the Hermes cabin.

A knock on the wooden door was enough to wake your boyfriend up, you were aware of it when you heard a muffled, “Come in”. You found Luke sitting on his bed, his sword in hand while he sharpened it.

So he wasn’t asleep at all, you thought.

“Careful with the sharp part of the blade.” He looked up from his sword when he heard your melodic voice, your words snapping him out of the trance he was in.

“Oh, hi.” Luke put the sword down next to his bunk and moved to lie down, leaving a space next to him for you to join him. He hummed when you laid down next to him, giving a kiss to his shoulder blade and wrapping your arms around his torso.

He turned to face you, pressing his lips to your forehead with a soft sigh. His eyes closed at the sensation while his hands traveled to your back, looking for ways to hold you closer. His features relaxing when he finally touched your skin.

You couldn’t keep this weird tension going on between you two, so you decided to bite first, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Once again, he replied in an almost scripted and mechanical way, “Talk about what?”

“The winter solstice visit, you’ve been acting.. different ever since we came back to camp.”

Luke stiffened next to you, it made your heart drop. You’ve been dating him for a year now, and he had never been this cold—this uncomfortable around you.

“I just... I think things are about to change.” He replied in a low murmur, his eyes closing again when you brought your hand up to caress his face, softly tracing his scar with your thumb in a delicate and loving way. Luke let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding when he felt your fingers on his skin.

A smirk made its way to your face, “Change? yeah, in your dreams, Castellan. Campers will keep arriving and only 5 percent of them will get claimed, and the others will get thrown into your cabin.. like things always are and always will be. That’s not changing anytime soon.”

Luke’s hand traced up and down your back in a soothing manner, “Yeah, maybe they won’t. Forget I even said that.”

“Just because they won’t change, it doesn’t mean we have to accept it, you know?”Luke's eyes snapped up from your hands to meet your gaze, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“We’re all on the same team here. Sure, the gods will never claim most of the campers and we will all probably die before we’re old enough to have children of our own... but is that really all that matters? We have each other. We don’t need them as long as we have the people we love with us.”

Luke tilted his head to the right to press a kiss to the palm of your hand that was caressing his cheek, “I don’t need the gods as long as I have you.”

“Good to know we’re on the same page, Castellan.”

The two of you went out for a small walk by the lake and sat together in the dining pavilion at night. Your small conversation probably made Luke feel better because he was quick to go back to being himself, he kept greeting every camper he saw and holding your hand, not forgetting to kiss the back of it whenever he had the chance.

Maybe it was you reassuring him about the love you had for him or maybe it was him being aware of you being willing to drop the gods at any time just to be with him, but he was completely normal during the following days, weeks, and months.

You were sure of it when you saw him walking around with the new arrival five months later, Luke seemed so excited to be showing him around. You greeted the new camper with a small smile when he introduced himself with a “Hi, I’m Percy Jackson.”

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #magnolia’s fics!

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melaniem54 · 2 years ago

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Review: The Solstice Cabin (Flos Magicae) by Arden Powell

Rating: 4🌈 Arden Powell has been writing such an amazing selection of books for the Flos Magicae series. All have been crafted with a certain subtlety, the world building and any foundation information is such that the reader has to cobble together the hints scattered throughout the book or from the odd statements in dialogue to try to understand the societal framework the novels take place…

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#newbookreleases #A MelanieM Review #author Arden Powell #elements of magic and mystery #LGBTGIA fantasy romance #LGBTGIA speculative holiday fiction #mention of suicide #Review: The Solstice Cabin (Flos Magicae) by Arden Powell #Scattered Thoughts Highly Recommended

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the-newlymadeweeb · 11 months ago

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His Girl

Luke Castellan x female!reader

Description: Luke spends a moment with his favourite hot tempered darling.

Gif is not mine, credits to the creator.

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It was an agreed upon opinion that battle axes were incredibly unconventional but you had decided from the moment you had it made that this would be your weapon of choice. And by the gods, did you have a temper. You'd joke that at least your brutish rage would match your brutish weapon. It was extremely ironic when the owl symbol burned brightly over your head and not the symbolic blessing of Ares.

Luke always thought you were a fascinating person: soft features sharply contrasted with fiery eyes and an axe. All that righteous rage never looked so beautiful. He'd received a very limited amount of blessings that were for him alone, but you were satiating and comforting and the hollowed feeling in his chest filled when you let him reach out and accept him in your hands and heart.

And sometimes he'd think, okay maybe there's some salvation and goodness for me.

"Luke? What are you–"

"Just– let me, okay?" He asked as he traced his thumb across your brow and cheekbone, his other hand cupping the back of your neck, cradling you close– admiring, imbibing, "the twins tried to prank you again?"

You rolled your eyes, "would've been funny if I didn't see it a mile away."

"Is that so? Is that why they had me hide your axe?"

He laughed, drawing you close, kissing away the claims of betrayal and conspiracy.

"Gods, you're so beautiful," He sighed.

Sooner or later things were going to change. Luke had a feeling that the summer solstice would truly stir the pot and for all your anger, he knew that when it came down to it, you might not side with him always. In a way, Athena cannot be trusted and hence, neither could you or even Annabeth for a matter of fact.

That wasn't going to change his mind or the skeleton of a plan he'd created but it did make him begin to miss you already, and he knew that he'd covet you even more as the time passed and he'll miss your precious righteous anger and the bittersweet taste of salt and sweat that he kissed off your lips and cheeks after strenuous tasks or games.

His girl with fiery eyes and an axe.

"Yeah, yeah; you keep complimenting me while aiding and abetting the twins. Cancels each other out."

You grinned, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, sneaking your thumbs under his shirt, brushing his sides. You know Luke'll return your weapons and Travis and Connor will be sent for their showers after the entire Hermes cabin finishes theirs for the next week. All in all, dating Head Councelor has its perks.

"Your birthday's coming up, got any requests?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your hair before leaning back to look you in the eye.

"Nah, maybe we can spend the day sparring. I can show you this technique I've developed."

"Sparring, huh?" He smirks, "sure, I'd love to see this technique of yours."

"Wow, leave me alone," you roll your eyes, swatting at him.

He catched your hand and presses two kisses between your knuckles and as always, almost love a traditional practice you do the same to him.

"Alright I gotta go, the new kids got their Greek lesson now," you say.

"Wish I had such a gorgeous tutor back in the day," he teases, grinning as you stick your tongue at him, "I'll see you later."

"Yeah you will. I love you."

"I love you more.'

His girl with fiery eyes and an axe.

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#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #pjo fanfic #percy jackson #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #lc

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cressidagrey · 4 months ago

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The Ties that Bind - Chapter 1

Summary:

Shadowsingers were made, not born. Made out of trauma and loneliness and desperation.

So when Cilla and Azriel meet and their shadows entwine, they both meet the only other person that could understand these particular childhood scars.

The last thing Azriel had ever expected from his mate, however, was for her to have a surprising connection to his brother.

Warnings:

My usual amount of Rhys bashing, Low Self Esteem, Mention of child abuse, Azriel threatens to unalive somebody

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

There weren’t many Illyrians in Velaris. And even less Illyrians who clearly had no clue how flying worked.

Azriel watched the spectacle from a safe distance away.

He didn’t really have a choice about that after all.

Not if he wanted to enjoy a cup of tea out on his porch. The porch of that little comfortable lake cabin right in the mountains of Velaris.

He had settled in for a Sunday afternoon with nothing to do for once. No pressing issues, no intelligence to sort through that couldn’t wait for a while…just him and his thoughts…and her .

It was a young female, probably just on the cusp between girlhood and growing into an adult, with the lankiness of her limbs not yet fully subsided.

Azriel did give her credit for being smart enough to find herself one of the mountain lakes in the mountains of Velaris…which had been a brilliant thing to do because every time she threw herself off one of the cliffs on the other side of the lake, she plummeted right into that icy water, wings trying and failing horribly to keep her adrift.

It was probably less smart to do this right now, however, when winter was just around the corner. Nobody was stupid enough to go swimming now…not if they didn’t want to turn into an icicle.

Still, every time without fail, she somehow managed to drag herself back out of the water, to dry land and up the cliffs to do it again. Azriel could respect that kind of single-minded determination.

It reminded him of himself…of his own first few attempts at flying…after he had gotten out of that cauldron-forsaken cell.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to this girl…what had happened to her that made her learn to fly now , when that was something that should have happened years ago…something that should have been natural to her…

She could extend her wings fully, so he didn’t think that she had been clipped…though maybe somebody had done a truly horrible hack job at it and that explained why her wings didn’t seem to hold her body weight…How did an Illyrian female end up in Velaris in the first place?

Question over questions and he didn’t know the answers to it.

It was peculiar…And it was making him sit up straight, watching her clamber up that cliff again, the grey dress she wore soaked with water and clinging to her figure.

What had brought her here? Was this a…He didn’t think that she knew that he was there and watching her…He had warded this house with everything he had, had thrown every fucking glamour at it that he could, making it impossible to be seen if somebody didn’t know that it existed…and not many people knew that it existed in the first place.

It had become his…little escape. Far away from the House of Wind or the River House…far enough that nobody would search for him here, but near enough that…well.

If they needed him, Azriel was just around the corner.

And he could get some sleep in the silence of the mountains surrounding him.

Cassian and Nesta were never going to manage to be quiet. And quite frankly, that was a very particular kind of torture after last Winter Solstice.

His High Lord had made himself very clear…and Azriel…well, that stubbornness that had meant that he had clung to Mor for 500 years…he couldn’t manage the same anymore.

The very heart of him was exhausted. Exhausted from always, always not being the one chosen. Exhausted from never seemingly being good enough, never measuring up.

So silently, quietly, Azriel had let it go. Let go of wishful dreams and stolen touches…Let go of that particular wish.

He would never have a mate. He would never have a wife. He would just exist in his loneliness.

It was better for everybody involved.

Regardless of how envy burned deep in his chest…regardless of jealousy, regardless of what he wanted . Azriel should have figured out centuries ago that he never got what he wanted anyway.

So why hope anymore?

Why hope and have that hope dashed and have his heart broken again? And again and again and again?

Why not simply accept it? Why not try to make the best out of it?

If he would end up alone, he could do it on his terms. Thus, that charming lake cabin with only one room he actually used.

He liked it. Scratch that. Azriel loved it.

Loved the quietness, loved how roomy and bright it was, the perfect antithesis to all of the years spent in that cell.

And if he made this his home… his home …well, only he needed to be content here.

His home.

Nobody else needed to like it. Just him. His and his alone. The perfect place to be lonely all on his own.

Master! His shadows snapped at that moment and he startled. She hasn’t come up yet.

What? he demanded, his gaze immediately snapping up to the lake.

No trace of her anyway.

She jumped and hit her head.

Why didn’t you fucking say something? he demanded harshly. Great. Now he needed to rescue her.

Definitely not how he wanted to spend his Sunday afternoon doing.

She must have managed to catch an updraft, because he didn’t need to pull her from the depths of that lake. Though maybe that would have been better…It would have left her with fewer scrapes.

Instead, she had landed in a heap in the shallows of the lake, water just knee high and Azriel hissed at the ice-cold water lapping against his skin as he gathered her up.

She was unconscious, her skin pale and ice-cold to the touch. Nearly frozen solid.

He pulled her into his arms, lifting her up and carrying her the few feet to dry ground, a hand immediately finding her pulse point.

He looked at her face, at the black hair and skin that was pale and clammy and…

Oh.

His. His .

There she was.

After 500 years, there she was.

He touched her with shaking hands, with reverence. Cupping her cheek, feeling her rattling breath against his scarred hands, turning her to her side as she started coughing.

Still unconscious…a wound on her forehead bleeding nearly sluggishly.

The water she had inhaled came back up and he made sure that she didn’t swallow it back down nearly automatically, unable not to stare at her.

His…His mate?

His mate.

Just a slip of a female, small and delicate, cheekbones and clavicles standing out sharply. She could use some more fat on her, to be completely honest. She looked… emaciated , not just simply thin. Starved .

And if her body hadn’t been the first clue…her wings were the second. He stared at the scars that crisscrossed where they protruded from her back…He knew scars like that. He himself had scars like that. Her wings had been bound to her back so tightly that whatever rope had been used had rubbed at the delicate skin covering the bones…rubbing it raw.

He swallowed at that realisation, the fury in his chest bursting wide open. It wasn’t the only scar on these wings…there were more. No wonder she had difficulty flying. It was so bad that he wondered if she would ever be able to fly at all.

Who had done this to her?

If he ever found out, he would plunge Truthteller into their chest and make them regret ever having been born.

His mate coughed again, sounding miserable. “You’ll be fine,” Azriel promised her fiercely. If he had a single thing to say about it…she would be fine. He would make sure that she would be fine. She was his now.

His mate.

The one person that he was allowed to care for…the one person he could pour all that attention and love onto that he normally held so tightly buried in his chest. His mate .

She was his and he was going to make sure that she was treated properly now.

“Come on, Sweetheart, we’ll get you warm and dry,” Azriel promised her, picking her up again. She weighed next to nothing to him as he cradled her into his arms and made his way back to his cabin.

Warm and dry and he would do something against the wound on her head and the scrapes on the rest of her. He couldn’t do anything against how thin she was, but he could probably manage to scrounge up some soup or something… Anything and everything so that she would be fine. His mate.

His .

Azriel reached his cabin seconds later, putting her down next to the mattress he used as a bed.

He really should have invested in some fucking furniture, but with a regrettable lapse of judgment he hadn’t.

He hadn’t because just for him, he hadn’t seen a need for it other than the necessities. A mattress was more than enough, no reason for a bed frame. No reason to put that mattress in an actual bedroom, if one corner of his living room and kitchen would work just as well.

Well, he could change that. He would change that. His mate deserved a bed, and a proper closet and everything else her heart desired.

He would make sure she would want for nothing.

Get her out of her dress and underneath the blankets, he told the shadow sharply, who for once seemed to be silent in pure shock.

He wasn’t going to touch her anywhere. Not like this. Not more than absolutely necessary.

Instead, he got himself dry, a pot of water boiling on the stove, all the vegetables he had stocked in the cooling cabinet and the chicken he had bought to roast thrown in right along with it.

Then Azriel raided his stock of healing supplies, bringing them to her bedside.

Now, safely dressed in an old dry shirt of his and tucked under every blanket his shadows could find in the house, her skin was still cold but no longer icy. Thawing.

He dabbed at the wound on her forehand and wrapped the scrapes that covered her hands…hands that were blistering and covered with a rash. Hands that were definitely used to harsh physical work.

These weren’t the hands of a lady. These were the hands of somebody that worked for a living.

Azriel tucked her hands under the blankets with the rest of her, and gently tucked a straw curl back behind her ear…and then came up short when he realised that…that her ear…it was pointed . Not the usual rounded ear of a pure-blood Illyrian. Pointed like a High Fae.

Oh .

She must be half Illyrian, half High Fae.

Exceedingly Rare… but not impossible. Rhys was the proof of that.

Master! He startled a second time, glaring at his shadows. Why did they keep startling them? And why were they screaming at him in pure excitement?

Only then, he saw the tendril of shadows. Hesitantly twirling out from her hair.

Not one of his. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he knew.

This wasn’t one of his shadows, this wasn’t…

Oh.

Was she…

Are they… hers? he asked, nearly hesitantly. Was she…just like him? A shadowsinger ?

He had never gotten to meet another one. He had never…There had never been anybody that had explained to him how they worked, how he could master them…all of it…he had learnt through hard work and determination and not often the feeling that he was truly going insane.

He had never thought that he would get to meet another shadowsinger ever. He had thought that maybe it was just a quirk of fate that also in this one ability, he would be unique, removed from everybody around him…Given that was how he felt any day of the week.

Yes, they are, his shadows answered excitedly, a few tendrils of his slowly approaching hers…that seemingly wilted away, hesitantly. He wanted to reach out and cradle them in his hands…make sure that her shadows and his mate understood that no harm would come to her from him.

How high were the chances that his mate, the one the mother picked for him, would be a shadowsinger just like him?

He swallowed.

Ask them for her name? he requested from his shadow hesitantly, wondering if they were able to communicate with hers…if he could talk to her shadows…if she could talk to his…

Cilla, the shadows answered after a moment. Cilla . Her name was Cilla.

Then very quietly: They are begging you not to hurt her.

Somebody thrust a knife into his heart and twisted.

Of course, they would ask that. Of course.

They didn’t trust him at all. Why should they?

She wouldn’t be a shadowsinger if she hadn’t spent years feeling so alone that the shadows started talking back to her. Why should she trust him?

I am not going to hurt her. I swear that to them on my life, he promised fiercely. He would not hurt her. Never.

She was his mate .

He would spend the next few centuries trying desperately to make sure that he was worthy of her, nothing else. He was not going to hurt her. Not if he had any choice in that matter.

His mate. His mate . He was going to take care of her, even when it was the last thing he did.

Nobody was ever going to hurt her again, not if Azriel had a single thing to say about it.

He was going to draw his line into the sand just like Enalius had down all these millennia before him at the Pass. And whoever would cross it, they would rue that day.

It was easy enough to tug harshly at the dormant thread Rhys had long ago left in his mind…easy enough to let his brother into the ante-chamber of his mind once he had his attention.

I won’t be available next week.

Are you asking me for a vacation, Az? Rhys asked with some amusement. No. He wasn’t asking.

He was going to take the next week and get to know his mate and nobody was going to stop him. Unless she told him no.

It’s not a request. This is me informing you that I won’t be available, Azriel gave back, his voice even.

He could nearly hear Rhys’ mental sigh. Is this still about you and Elain? Rhys asked him, long sufferingly.

There is no me and Elain, Rhysand, Azriel shot back. Rhys had taken care of that. Though he probably did owe his High Lord a bottle of some ridiculous expensive alcoholic beverage for that. No Elain, which meant he was free to conduct his love life however he saw fit. Which meant that if Cilla was willing to give him a chance…

Then what it is about? Rhys asked him.

Azriel could tell the truth. But he had absolutely no fucking want to do that. Rhys had made himself very clear last Winter Solstice. And Azriel didn’t want anybody to meddle. Cilla was his mate and nobody else’s and the only thing that mattered was what she wanted. Not what anybody else thought about her or their Mating Bond or anything else.

I have some things to take care of that need my undivided attention, he said, his voice hard. Making it very obvious that Azriel wasn’t interested in answering any questions about it.

And you couldn’t tell me that weeks ago?

No.

Fine.

It’s not like it would have mattered to him if Rhysand had disagreed. Azriel was still not going to come in next week.

It wasn’t like took many days off in the last few centuries. He was probably long overdue for a vacation.

A soft noise pulled him away from that particular line of thinking and he looked down at Cilla, her nose scrunched up, shifting slightly.

“It’s alright,” he promised her, keeping his voice calm and easy. “Can you open your eyes for me, Cilla?” he asked and one eye blinked open…showing him a pair of dark brown pupils.

“There you go,” he praised her, “Good, Sweetheart.”

For one moment she looked at him utterly petrified, not understanding at all what was going on. Just a second later, he felt her fear and terror pour all over the fledgling Mating Bond, that must have just snapped for her.

One hand flayed out and one of his shadows caught it, her eyes jumping from him to the shadows and then back again. He watched as she seemingly tried to work through it, one of her shadows gently caressing her cheek, clearly calming her down.

“You…You’re just like me,” she whispered, her voice rough from disuse, wings twitching with something.

“I am,” he agreed softly.

And then, he saw the shadow curl behind her ear, whispering something in her ear. And then: “Mate?” she whispered, staring at him, her eyes wide, the expression on her face wanting and desperate and a thousand other things.

His mouth went dry. He managed a nod.

And then to his surprise, she pounced. There was nothing graceful about it as she clung to him, nearly slapping her with one of her wings, as he pulled her against his chest.

“I am your mate,” he agreed with a weak chuckle.

Hers.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #the ties that bind

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mcuamerica · 5 months ago

Text

Stranded | Part Two

Featuring : (future) Azriel x Fem!Reader, Eris x Reader (platonic), Rhys x Sister!Reader

Summary: Amarantha is dead and you finally get to go home. Requested by @sidthedollface2 here.

Warnings: 18+ only, description of ruined wings and skin scarring, canon level violence, not proofread (i'll do it later), let me know if anything was forgotten...

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, 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.

Dividers from @saradika

Part One

You felt your magic return to you the day Amarantha died. It was such an ordinary day.

You were in your cabin, that Eris had found for you the moment your wings were burned. You couldn't return to the Night Court without putting yourself in danger of Amarantha finding you, so you stayed in Autumn.

You were cooking when it washed over you, feeling as if you could finally breath again. You tested your abilities, seeing how much you could do. You were able to engulf the entire room in darkness when you were satisfied it returned.

You lost hope 10 years prior, when one of the local villagers said that all of Amarantha's court was bound to Under the Mountain. That meant you wouldn't be getting anymore visits from Eris, and even in the 40 years before that, those were few and far between. You were lucky Autumn Court was on her "good" side, because she never looked too deep into the woods. From what Eris told you, Rhys had taken her to bed.

You knew Rhys, and you could guess that he did it to keep her eyes from turning towards the Night Court. Towards you. Or Velaris.

So, you lived your simple life. The cabin Eris gave you came with a horse, that you would take to and from the local village. You were able to maintain a garden. And the best thing about living in Autumn was you never had to brace a bad winter or a sweltering summer. You missed the seasons dearly, you missed Solstices and Starfalls. Most of all, you missed your family.

It still haunted you that Rhys was taking on the burden of the Night Court by himself. You wished you could be there with him.

And, the rest of your family was running Velaris. Without you. You had to wonder if Azriel and Mor ended up together, being trapped in the beautiful, romantic city all these years. You wouldn't if Azriel regretted leaving you that night. Or if he was happy you were gone.

One thing you couldn't get over, even after all these years, was that he left you. Sure, you could handle yourself, but he left you. His best friend. Even when you were young, you always wanted to be around Azriel. Once Cassian and Rhys stopped tormenting him, you were allowed to be around him. He was always the first one to show you techniques with his sword, or new flying maneuvers. But then Mor came alone, slept with Cassian, and that was it. Azriel had been pining after her since then. You weren't resentful of it until he left you the night everything went to shit. When you lost your magic and your ability to fly.

Even know, when the wind was raging in the forest, you teared up. You wish there was some way to be able to fly again. But you grew up in the Illyrian war camp with your mother and brother. You knew what destroyed tendons looked like. There was no hope. Even after Eris and his healers did everything they could to heal them as best as they could. The membrane was in tact, albeit thinner than normal, and you had full function of stretching them in and out. But, the proper strength to fly would never be resorted.

At least you had your magic back. And you waited for Eris to come find you, to placate his father enough that he had time to tell you what happened. You assumed, knowing the depletion of magic was tied to Amarantha, that she died. You really hoped that was the case. You could go home. You could see your brother. You could ignore Azriel for the rest of your life. It never even occurred to you that you could probably winnow back home. You hadn't been able to do it for a long time.

Instead of Eris bursting through the door that afternoon, it was shadows, followed by a heaving Azriel trying to catch his breath.

"(Y/N)!" Azriel exclaimed, bounding over to you. Before you had a chance to step away, he wrapped you in an embrace. One you couldn't help but melt into. You might be mad at him, but after 50 years of being apart, you were happy to see him.

You pulled away, seeing tears in Azriel's eyes as he looked you over. His eyes landed on your wings. "What did they do to you?" He asked, searching your eyes.

"After you left me that night, three of Beron's sentinels burned my wings." You said, taking a deep breath.

"I need to write a note, and then you can take me home. Is Rhys there yet?" You asked.

"I don't know, I've spent all day having my shadows look for you. I was hoping you made it to Winter... I didn't think you would still be here." He said, pausing as you started to write.

You wrote to Eris, letting him know that you would be going back to the Night Court. You also told him that you would support him if he ever needed anything. You tucked the note into an envelop and left it on the counter.

"Okay... can you winnow us?" You asked, holding out your hand.

He gazed over you again, unsaid words clear in his eyes. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). For everything. For leaving you. For not coming to get you-"

"Azriel.. please.. take me home. And then we can talk about it." You said.

He nodded, staring at you for a few moments before he took you hand and darkness enveloped you both.

Rhys was pissed.

He may have been happy to see his family, and to tell Mor and you about how he found his mate (even if she was with Tamlin), but the instant he saw your wings, he knew something was wrong. Before even asking the rest of his family what happened, he pulled you into a room alone.

After recapping what happened Under the Mountain, and more tearful hellos, he asked you to sit down. "Tell me what happened." He said.

You looked down, taking a deep breath. "That night that Amarantha took your magic, and you closed the borders to Velaris, I got stuck in Autumn. Azriel had left to go help Mor with something. I couldn't even winnow to the Night Court borders." You told him what happened with the sentinels, how Eris found you, and then watched as Rhys settled into the quiet deathly rage.

"He did this to you?" He asked, barely above a whisper.

"No," you quickly corrected. "Eris helped me." There were tears in your eyes now. "He- Let me just tell you how it started..."

Eris brought you to a cabin on the outskirts of the Autumn borders, close to a village but far enough that no one would look for you here. He had his best healers come to help heal you, but with their lack ox experience repairing wings, they couldn't completely heal them. You back even still had scarring on it from how hot the sentinels burned through them.

When Eris couldn't stay because Amarantha sent for all High Lords and their heirs, he had a healer stay with you. Until you were back to your normal health. And then, he offered to help you get to the Night Court. Said he would personally take you to the Moonstone Palace. But he warned you how cruel Amarantha already was, and how she was taking more and more people prisoner (to be part of her "court") Under the Mountain. You chose to stay in the cabin. If you couldn't go back to Velaris, you didn't want to go to the Night Court. Not when your brother was actively trying to get Amarantha to avoid it. The return of the Lady of the Night Court would surely set her eyes towards you. And Rhys would pay the price.

Eris would visit you as often as he could. Since Autumn was on Amarantha's good side, she let Eris and his brothers out more. When he was able to step away from the Forest House, he would visit you. Bring you more supplied, new clothes, sometimes even new furniture or paint to refresh the cabin. All the while, he kept you up to date on what was happened. One day, you asked why he was helping you.

"Because I can... and it was my family's sentinels that harmed you. You had no one else around. If you were to die out here, what would I tell you brother? It would have caused an even worse relationship between us. And I'm hoping to have his support when I overthrow my father. If we can tackle Amarantha first... and.. I'm hoping one day you can counsel your brother to help me as well." He explained.

"So you're helping me for your own gain?" You asked.

"I'm helping you because it's the right thing to do... and I've grown fond of this little escape." He answered.

That's how it was until three courts tried to rebel, and Amarantha barred anyone from leaving Under the Mountain. Even Eris. You wondered why he hadn't shown up when you went into the village to grab some more food, when you overheard the rumors.

"He truly helped you? He never hurt you?" Rhys asked.

You shook your head. "No, he never hurt me. He never tried anything. He... was kind. And caring. And I owe him my life." You said, looking up at Rhys.

He nodded, thinking for a moment. He paused his pacing and looking at you dead in the eyes. "Azriel left you?" He asked, seeming to recall what you first told him.

"...Yes." You said after hesitating.

"I'm going to kill him." He growled.

Your heart skipped a beat, knowing Rhys might just well kill Azriel for putting you in harms way.

"Wait- no. Please.. go easy on him." You said.

He paused, taking a deep breath. Darkness was pooling around his ankles. You could tell he was trying to reel it in. "I'm going to beat him to a pulp."

Better than killing him, you thought. You relaxed for a moment before Rhys rushed out from the door. You chased after him to see the first blow to Azriel's face. Then to his gut. Then to his legs to knock him on the floor. All while Rhys growled out in between each punch,"You. Left. My. Sister. In. Autumn?!"

Azriel didn't even fight back.

Part Three

A/N: Another tough one... I think this will have 1 or 2 more parts... which I probably won't get to writing until Sunday or Monday night (I know, i'm sorry!) Thank you all so much for your support!

Tagging: @feiwelinchen @circe143 @sidthedollface2 @crazylokonugget @i-am-infinite @thestartitaness @buttermilktea11 @tele86 @yearninglustfully @bunnyredgirl

Main Masterlist

#acotar #azriel x reader #acotar fic #acotar spoilers #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #katie writes

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amoreva · 10 months ago

Note

yes i’m so glad you’re writing for clarisse because im obsessed with your writing.

could you write something with reader being a really confident and vain daughter of aphrodite who channels her mothers war goddess attributes and is one of the best sword fighter in camp? also playful teasing from reader and sparring because 1 i need justice for the massacre of aphrodites character and 2 clarisse x aphrodite!reader is essential to my life force. haters can hate.

maybe also show how other campers interact with her as well, like luke showing percy around idk

LOVER AND A WARRIOR

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

pairing: clarisse la rue x daughter of aphrodite!reader

summary: clarisse has always been a hard hitter and a tough lover, but a certain someone from aphrodite makes her soft. and she doesn’t entirely mind it.

warnings: use of “y/n” once or twice, kinda switches to percy’s pov, fighting, almost death(?), fluff, mentions of beckendorf!!

a/n: i really hope i did this request right! enjoy! i was trying to crank this out as soon as i could.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

Everyone thought you’d be claim by Ares (even though your dad was still very present and not a god) or at least by Athena. You were smart and a hell of a lot strong; both mentally and physically.

So it came to a surprise when Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, claimed you.

Though, Clarisse knew you were her daughter. You were every bit of passionate: about life, hobbies, interests, her. You paid attention to every little detail that flew out of her mouth (she noticed).

It didn’t help that you channeled your mother’s past title and abilities. After all, in Sparta, she was known as Aphrodite Aeria, “Aphrodite the Warlike”.

Clarisse was head over heels for you the minute she saw you fight (you even bested Luke, how was she not supposed to not fall in love with you?)

You and Clarisse started dating at the peak of the Summer Solstice and never looked back. No one knew Clarisse could be so…tolerating to someone outside of her cabin, especially to one of Aphrodite’s daughter.

Percy surely didn’t expect it either.

Clarisse was so callous and you were compassionate. He guessed that thing about opposites attract was true.

“Look, you want attention here, dummy?” Clarisse spoke condescendingly to the newest camper. She just couldn’t believe a scrawny kid took down the Minotaur. “You better be ready for it when it comes.”

Clarisse made Percy flinch and walked past Hermes’ kids. An amused smile plastered on her face. Luke shook his head as Ares’ kids passed which begged the question. “Why don’t they mess with you?” Percy asked.

“They know better.” Luke smirked.

“Luke’s the second strongest swordsman in camp.” Chris added with a proud grin.

“Who’s the first?”

“Y/N.”

Suddenly, you walked by in perfect timing. Percy’s eyes glued to you. You witnessed the whole situation and went to talk to your girlfriend. “Clarisse…” You muttered.

Percy watched Ares’ daughter soften at the mention of her name from your lips. Nothing in the facial expressions, it was all in the eyes.

“She doesn’t look menacing or intimidating—” Percy acknowledged.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Luke reminded as he glanced back at you and Clarisse. “Got my ass handed to me when I sparred with her.”

Percy looked at Luke. “Really? Can I train with her?”

•••

It wasn’t odd to find Clarisse in Aphrodite’s cabin; nor was it odd to find the two of you cuddling on your bunk. Sunlight beaming onto the two of you and the only sounds were the campers outside. All of your siblings when do go enjoy camp activities while you read to Clarisse.

Ancient Greek flows from your mouth like the water from River Styx. Clarisse had one arm haphazardly thrown across your abdomen. Her head perched on your shoulder.

Silently, she admired the way your lips moved. The way you were invested into the story. The way she can see all the tiny details on your gorgeous face from this position.

Clarisse found herself falling for you more and more with each second of the day. She was aggressive and intimidating. She was Ares’ favorite daughter after all, but she found herself becoming more softhearted to you.

“You’re my…everything.” Clarisse whispered fondly. It might’ve been a slip of the tongue, but it made you blush.

She never failed to make you blush. Your rosy cheeks complimented with a sheepish grin. “Clarisse…” You mumbled and put down the book.

“I mean it.” Clarisse stated firmly and sat up on her elbow. Her heart locket fell from her orange Camp t-shirt. It matched yours, except you had a sword charm. Clarisse insisted on giving it to you (after threatening Beckendorf once or twice) for your two month anniversary.

“I know.” You reassured and pecked her lips quickly. Clarisse smiled and dived back in to press her lips into yours

A giggle erupted from you. A rush of dopamine intoxicating your brain. It always felt like the first kiss with her. “I love you, I love you, I love you—” You repeated into her lips.

“I get it, lovergirl.” Clarisse chuckled as she pulled away. Her cheek tinged with pink. “I love you too.”

She continued. “Will you keep reading? You sound so beautiful when you read—”

“Clarisse!” You exclaimed. Your blush even more prominent.

“What? I can’t tell my girlfriend she has a voice from the sirens that could bring the Big Three to tears?”

“Clarisse…”

“Keep reading, lovergirl.”

•••

“This is safe, right?” Percy asked Grover.

“Yeah! Perfectly safe.” Grover reassured with a smile.

Luke had recruited you to help train Percy (Clarisse just so happened to tag along). There were swords in all of your hands. You were going to fight Clarisse and Luke and Percy doubted you were that good.

It was all to help Percy learn more about fighting with the sword and a great way to show off. The forest clearing gave enough room to really show your talents in combat.

“Don’t go easy on me!” You yelled at Clarisse and Luke on the other side of the clearing. Percy and Grover were sitting on rather large rocks anticipating the battle.

You took a deep breath and your eyes hardened. It was like switched had been flipped within you. You shifted your foot, sliding it in the dirt. The air felt different. Tense, sharp, lung-crushing.

Clarisse and Luke tightened their grip on their swords and gave each other a confirming nod. Percy and Grover watched as the three older half-bloods charged one another.

With precision and quick-wit, you were able to keep Clarisse and Luke on their toes. Luke shifted his weight in his feet before charging you again. You clashed swords. Celestial Bronze against Celestial Bronze.

Your ears perked up on shoes slapping against the dirt. You ducked causing Clarisse to swing at Luke. There was no trace of a your warm sweet smile Percy saw, only your hardened gaze.

It was kind of scary to see Aphrodite’s daughter switch up so fast.

Clarisse cursed under her and swiped her sword as if flicking off imaginary blood. She met your gaze, her heart skipped a beat. She rushed you again and swiped your legs. You jumped back with the grace of a swan, but Clarisse parried her sword immediately after.

You riposted Clarisse when Luke cane out from behind Clarisse to continue an onslaught of attacks. You scoffed quietly, but you could never complain. It was a good workout.

Yet, a particularly heavy swing from you knocked Luke’s sword from out of his hand. His sword flinging at Percy’s head. Percy shouted and ducked.

“Oh my gods!” You exclaimed and slapped your heads over your mouth in surprise.

Clarisse and Luke stopped their attacks and looked back at Percy and Grover. Luke’s celestial bronze sword was sticking out of a tree. Percy centimeters away from the blade.

You apologized for your reckless behavior. Percy was more scared of how fast you switched from your focused nature to a worried attitude.

“It’s okay…” Percy laughed nervously.

“He said he was fine!” Clarisse called out and walked towards you, pressing a small kiss to your cheek.

“Sorry, Percy.” Luke apologized.

“A lover and a fighter. Got it.” Percy noted in his mind as you complained to Clarisse about feeling bad about impaling Percy.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #percy series #clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse la rue pjo

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littlest-w01f · 1 month ago

Text

Berkin

"Gangbang" with:

Cazriel x Elsie (Oc) x Feysand

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Summary: Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel invite their mates over to the Berkin after their annual snowball fight

Cw: Gangbang, FxFxMxMxM, FxF, MxF, MxFxM, Smut 18+ MDNI

The night air was crisp and cold, the scent of pine wafting through the forest. The snow fell lightly, dusting everything in a soft blanket of white. Inside the cozy cabin, Feyre and Elsie sat by the crackling fireplace, their laughter filling the room, the Autum female making jokes that had the High Lady of Night doubling over in laughter. They were engrossed in their conversation, oblivious to the fact that their mates were listening in on their chit chat more than being busy soaking in their sweat.

Winter Solstice was always a blast for Feyre and Elsie, the two friends would spend their time making snowmales while their mates had their annual snowball fight, as the sun began to set on the longest night of the year, Feyre and Elsie bundled up in their warmest clothes and sat near the fire in the cabin.

As Feyre and Elsie chatted amiably by the fireplace, their mates lounged nude in the berkin adjacent to the cabin, sweat glistening on their muscular bodies as they recovered from yet another intense snowball fight session. Feyre and Elsie sipped hot cocoa, Elsie' cheeks flushed from the cold and the warmth of the crackling fire while Feyre's body was unbothered by the change in temperature.

"I swear, Rhys and Cassian almost killed each other out there," Feyre laughed, taking another sip of her hot cocoa, catching a marshmallows in her mouth. Her eyes sparkled with mirth as she glanced at Elsie, who let out a snort of laughter.

"Oh please, those two are always trying to one-up each other," Elsie replied with a grin, her firey locks cascading over her shoulders as she leaned back in her chair. "It's adorable, really. Especially when Az is the one who wins."

Feyre suddenly sat up, a smirk on her face, as she set her cup down, eyes glazing over, "We've been invited to the Berkin. Join our mates inside. If you want."

"Where they are naked and sweating...?" Elsie's breath caught in her throat. Elsie's gaze drifted towards the steam room's door, her mind filled with images of Azriel and Cassian’s muscled forms. A blush crept onto her cheeks, and she bit her lower lip, her heart pounding against her chest. She looked back at Feyre, her crimson eyes wide and curious. A few years ago, she would deny seeing another male than her mates naked, but now, the thoughts of watching Rhysand and Feyre brought a smile to her lips. "Sure." She said getting up, dusting off her swollen skirt of non-existent dust.

Elsie followed Feyre into the steam room, the heat enveloping them immediately. She could already hear the low murmurs coming from within, punctuated by hearty laughs and the occasional grunt. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw Rhysand lounging in a corner, his muscular body glistening with beads of sweat. His black hair was damp, clinging to his forehead, and his violet eyes gleamed with mischief as he noticed Feyre's entrance.

Cassian and Azriel, meanwhile, were sprawled out on a bench, legs spread wide, Azriel's head thrown back, Cassian's muscles rippling under his skin as he stretched. He flashed Elsie a wicked grin, his hazel eyes twinkling with desire. "Well, well," he drawled, "look what the cat dragged in."

Azriel's shadows covered his thighs and abs, and the part of him that Elsie craved the most. "No clothes inside, ladies." The shadowsinger growled, eyes going up and down his mate, wings stretching at the sight until Cassian whines he was taking too much space and tried to shove him off with his.

As the shadows enfolded Azriel's muscular frame, creating a tantalizing silhouette, Elsie's heart fluttered. Her eyes traveled down the curves of his sculpted torso, to the shadows that concealed the throbbing cock she knew all too well.

Her gaze then shifted to Rhysand, who lounged casually, yet exuded raw masculinity. His dark eyes glinted with lustful intent as he watched Feyre with a predatory hunger, the two talking in their minds. Cassian, on the other hand, was openly leering at Elsie, his broad chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

"As you say, my love." Elsie peeled off her clothes slowly, revealing inch after inch of creamy firey skin. Her curves strained against her lingerie, nipples visibly erect beneath the delicate fabric. With a sensual shrug, she let the garment drop.

Azriel's shadows seemed to pulse hungrily as he drank in the sight of his mate's nearly bare flesh. His breathing grew heavier, the anticipation building within him like a coiled spring ready to release its tension.

Meanwhile, Feyre had stripped down to nothing, her taut stomach and toned legs on full display. Rhysand licked his lips appreciatively, his large hands twitching with the urge to grab hold of her slender hips and pull her close.

Cassian groaned audibly as Elsie's lace hit him square in the face, holding the lingerie, inhaling her scent. "Is this naked enough for you?" The female murmered with a twirl.

The steam room was now filled with the intoxicating aroma of arousal, mingling with the scent of pine and wood smoke. Azriel's shadows danced around him, enhancing his aura of seduction. He watched Elsie with hungry eyes, his cock hardening beneath the protective veil of darkness.

"Come closer, High Lady..." Rhysand's hands found their way to Feyre's waist, pulling her onto his lap. His fingers traced the curves of her body, teasing the hardened peaks of her nipples before sliding down to cup her ass, biting down on her neck as she squealed.

Cassian rose from his seat, his towering height dwarfing Elsie. He pulled her against him, his strong arms wrapping around her body, wings caging her in before pushing Elsie into straddling Azriel's lap.

"So how are we doing this?" Cassian smirked, looking between the two duos, leaning into Elsie and Azriel. He knelt down, face buried in the dimples at the base of his mate's spine, electing a giggle from Elsie.

Elsie's gaze locked with Feyre's over their shoulders, both females feeling the heat of the moment, the unspoken promise of pleasure that lay ahead. Their eyes spoke volumes, filled with lust, admiration, and a hint of mischief.

Their gazes locked, a silent understanding passing between them - an unspoken permission and desire. Feyre's eyes, smouldering with need, raked over Elsie's curves, lingering on the swell of her breasts and the enticing dip of her waist where the shadowsinger's hands dug, right above where Cassian bit down on her.

Elsie returned the favour, her own crimson eyes drinking in the sight of Feyre's muscular form, her pert nipples standing at attention where Rhsyand's finger's kneaded them. A sultry smile played on Elsie's lips as she imagined running her tongue over the delicate buds.

The females shared a look, getting up and crossing the distance, Feyre and Elsie's mouths met in a passionate kiss, their tongues entwined in a sensual dance, and the atmosphere in the steam room reached a fever pitch as they felt each other up.

Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian watched with avid interest, albeit a little disappointment that their mates had left them, but it quickly resolved into need, their cocks stiff and leaking precum as they fantasized about joining the erotic spectacle unfolding before them. Azriel's shadows enveloped Elsie's body, caressing every curve as Feyre kissed her deeply.

Azriel's shadows wrapped around both females, stroking their sensitive skin as if alive. They slid across Elsie's breasts, teasing her nipples until they were stiff peaks. Meanwhile, her mouth claimed Feyre's, kissing her passionately while her hands roamed her toned physique.

The shadows continued their sensual assault, trailing down to Elsie's hips and thighs, making her gasp into Feyre's mouth. She moaned softly, the vibrations travelling through Feyre's body, adding to the sensations coursing through her.

Feyre's hands explored Elsie's back, slipping down to squeeze her firm ass, drawing her closer. Her own breasts pressed against Elsie's, the hardened nipples rubbing deliciously. The steam room was filled with the sounds of wet kisses and ragged breaths, the air thick with lust.

Feyre pushed Elsie to Rhysand. With a mischievous grin, Rhysand took Elsie in his arms, his hands gripping her thighs open firmly. His cock, rock-hard and throbbing, pressed against her slick folds, teasing her entrance.

"Mmm... I've been waiting for this." Rhysand whispered huskily, his voice a low purr that sent shivers down Elsie's spine. His cock teased at her entrance, rubbing along her slit, coating itself with her juices. He groaned loudly, his eyes rolling back momentarily in ecstasy.

Feyre knelt in front of her mate and friend, leaning in to lick over her cunt and his cock

Feyre's tongue swirled around Rhysand's cock, lapping at the pre-cum oozing from the tip. She took him into her hot mouth, sucking gently as she pulled off to suck Elsie's clit, sealing it between her lips.

Rhysand grunted, his grip on Elsie's ass tightening as he thrust shallowly into her slick heat, loving the way her body heat up. "Fuck, you're so wet already," He growled, nipping at her earlobe.

"Fey- Mmm... Fuck." The shadows continued their ministrations on Elsie, caressing every inch of exposed skin, adding to the overwhelming sensation. Cassian and Azriel watched with lust-filled eyes, their own cocks straining for release as they took in the erotic sight before them of their High Lord and Lady ravishing their mate.

Feyre lavished attention on both Elsie and Rhysand, alternating between long, languid strokes of her tongue along his length and quick flicks over Elsie’s swollen clit, She pulled off, grabbing Rhysand's cock to stroke it a few times before she pressed his cock against Elsie's cunt. "You ready?"

"Yeah..." Elsie moaned wantonly as Rhysand's hard cock nudged against her soaked entrance. Her hips bucked instinctively, seeking more friction. Feyre's hand pumped Rhysand's cock, smearing Elsie's juices along the thick length.

With a wicked grin, Feyre positioned Rhysand at Elsie's opening once more. "Do it," She urged, her eyes meeting the violet of her mate, her voice dripping with desire. "Fuck their mate." Her words caused Cassian and Azriel's breaths to hitch.

Rhysand needed no further encouragement. With a powerful thrust of his hips, he buried himself to the hilt inside Elsie's tight channel. "Ahhh fuck! So goddamn tight!" He groaned, savoring the feel of her velvety walls squeezing his aching cock.

"Please..." Elsie whispered, nails digging into Rhysand's powerful thighs to have some semblance of control, Azriel's shadows stroking her clit to help accommodate Rhysand. He gripped her hips tightly, hands gentle as he pulled her off a couple inches to slam her back down. Elsie cried out, her head thrown back in pleasure as she felt herself being filled completely by Rhysand's cock.

The steam room echoed with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, the symphony of moans and sighs filling the air. Rhysand began to move within Elsie, his hips snapping up, retreating, then plunging deeper still. Each thrust hit her sweet spot, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through her body.

Azriel's shadows roved over Elsie's curves, tracing the outline of her breasts, tweaking her nipples, and continued their relentless stimulation of her clit. Every touch, every movement, was designed to push Elsie closer to the edge of climax.

Cassian pulled Feyre towards himself, Cassian's hands roamed Feyre's body possessively, squeezing her breasts roughly as he captured her lips in a searing kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, claiming her thoroughly. Feyre moaned into the kiss, grinding her hips against his straining cock.

The room echoed with the symphony of moans, grunts, and the obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh. The air was thick with the musky scent of sex, fueling the insatiable hunger of the five lovers lost in their own worlds of pleasure.

Elsie watched as Azriel pulled Feyre closer by her hair, Feyre's eyes wide at his girthy size, not a shadow on him as they all paid attention to his mate. Rhysand wrapped his arms around Elsie, pressed his head in her hair, inhaling her scent, "We're gonna watch them, ok, princess?"

Cassian trailed his mouth down her neck, planting wet kisses along her pulse point. His hands squeezed her breasts, kneading and tugging at her nipples.

The erotic sight made Elsie's cunt clench around Rhysand's cock. She ground her hips back against him, a silent plea urging him to move. Rhysand obliged, grabbing her hips, and making her ride him.

Feyre looked over at Elsie and Rhysand, seeing the way Rhysand's cock disappeared into Elsie's tight hole, feeling Cassian's cock throb against her own. A whimper escaped her lips, her own arousal building at the thought of watching them all lose control.

With a growl of approval, Azriel allowed Feyre to take his cock into her mouth, her warm tongue swirling around the tip before taking more of him inside. The sight of Feyre sucking him off sent waves of pleasure coursing through Azriel's veins, his shadows intensifying their touch on Elsie's sensitive body.

"Oh Mother-" As Elsie reached her climax, her cunt clenched tightly around Rhysand's cock. Rhysand's thrusts became erratic, his cock pulsating inside her as he chased his own orgasm.

Cassian's cock throbbed inside Feyre's tight cunt, hitting her sweet spot relentlessly. The steam room was now a hotbed of raw carnal energy. Every movement, and every sound amplified the intensity of the moment. Rhysand's cock throbbed inside Elsie.

Watching his mate pleasuring another male stoked Rhysand's arousal further. He thrust into Elsie with renewed vigour, each stroke hitting deeper, his cock rubbing deep against her walls. "Fuck… you're so good," He groaned, his hand moving to pinch and twist one of Elsie's nipples.

"Rhys..." Elsie's eyes crossed, shadows not leaving her as Rhys fucked her through her release.

Cassian could feel Feyre trembling beneath him, her inner muscles fluttering wildly around his cock. He knew she was close, hell, he could barely hold back himself after witnessing Elsie and Rhysand. Gripping Feyre's thighs tightly, he pistoned his hips faster, driving into her cunt with ruthless abandon.

"Yes! Yes! Don't stop!" Feyre wailed, her cries muffled by Azriel's cock thrusting in and out of her mouth. Tears streamed down her face, but there was no pain, only exquisite bliss.

Cassian pounded into Feyre harder and faster, his balls slapping against her clit. He groaned loudly, feeling his orgasm building rapidly. The sight of Rhysand fucking Elsie, coupled with Feyre's tight, warm cunt clenching around his cock was too much for him to bear.

Rhysand watched intently as Cassian pounded into Feyre, her gagging on Azriel's cock, his own orgasm teetering on the edge. Seeing his best friends claim Feyre so fiercely spurred him on, and he increased his pace, driving his throbbing cock even deeper into Elsie's welcoming heat.

Every touch, every movement, was designed to prolong their female's pleasure, Cassian's thrusts grew more erratic, his grip on Feyre's thighs tightening like a vice. He let out a guttural groan as he felt his climax approaching, his cock twitching inside her.

Feeling Cassian's cock spasming inside her, Feyre knew he was close. She sucked on Azriel's cock harder, her mouth watering from the effort. With a final pull, she took him all the way to the base, her throat constricting around him as she swallowed and gagged on every inch of his length.

Elsie clamped down on Rhysand's cock in pleasure as she watched her mates take her friend. Rhysand groaned from the grip of her cunt on her cock, as Rhysand spilt his hot seed inside Elsie, she cried out in pleasure, her walls clamping down on him rhythmically.

The scents of their mixed release triggered Feyre's own climax, her cunt clenching around Cassian's cock as she came hard, eyes rolling back. Her throat worked around Azriel's cock, bringing him closer to his.

Cassian let out a primal roar as he exploded inside Feyre, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his release. The sensation of Feyre's cunt spasming around him, combined with the erotic sight of her swallowing Azriel whole, pushed him over the edge.

Azriel's scared fingers dug into Feyre's scalp as he too found his release, almost silent grunts leaving his lips, his cock erupting in her mouth. She tried to drink down every drop of his essence, her body trembling with the force of her own climax.

As the last waves of pleasure washed over them, the five collapsed onto the heated benches, panting heavily. Their skin glistened with sweat, hearts raced.

Feyre lay sprawled across Cassian and Azriel, a contented smile on her face. "That was… incredible," she murmured, her voice hoarse from her earlier cries of ecstasy.

Elsie curled up beside Rhysand, her head resting on his shoulder. She could feel his cum leaking out of her cunt, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine. "I never knew watching others could be so..." She glanced between Feyre and Rhysand with a shy smile, a blush forming on her cheeks as Azriel's shadows soothed her skin.

As they recovered, their breathing slowly steadying, Feyre gently detached herself from Cassian and Azriel. She crawled over to join Elsie and Rhysand, her movements languid and sensual. Sitting down across Elsie's lap, the female's arms around her waist, she rested her head on Elsie's shoulder, looking up at her with a smile. "Watching you both… It was really hot."

I'm so tired... I don't know how you take them both every day. Feyre's voice rang in her head and she stifled a giggle.

Don't let them hear you say that. Elsie replied back, as Elsie leaned down to meet Feyre's lips with hers, she tasted their mingled sweat and desire. Their tongues danced together in a slow, passionate dance. They kissed deeply, hungrily, savouring the taste of each other mixed with the remnants of their partners' essences.

{General taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @velarisnightsky444 @minnieoo @mellowmusings}

{Acotar kinktober taglist: @romanticatheartt}

{Rhysand taglist- @yeonalie}

{Cassian taglist- @yeonalie @nestastits}

{Azriel taglist- @fxckmiup @annamariereads16 @saltedcoffeescotch @satorusemepls @fieldofdaisiies}

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florencemtrash · 9 months ago

Text

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twelve

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: None! Familiar faces return to Velaris and Y/n finally gets a chance to explore the city...

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

I’ve been dreaming again. Dreaming of him.

Thanatos. With his milky pale skin the color of bleached bones. Bold brush strokes of black ink mark his clothes and paint his hair and his marble eyes. I should feel unsettled when looking into the face of death. But I don’t. I’m the only one who gets to see him like this. The only one who gets to see his true face and I don’t know why. He doesn’t understand it either, and it frustrates him to no end.

He’s almost as curious as I am. Almost.

He came to the cabin again today, carrying that black lit candle between his spindly fingers like he believed in the Mother and was prepared to pray and sing to her like the rest of us. He says he likes to hear me during the service, tiny and informal as it is, but really I think he’s here because it irks me, and because I’m some tapestry he can’t seem to unravel.

He asked me again whether I’d call upon the Mother for him. He says he has a question that needs answering, and once he has his answer, he’ll be able to tell me how we can defeat Koschei. If it’s even possible.

But I don’t believe that male for a second. He’d sooner carve the world to bits and devour the scraps before helping us like the coyote he is.

Rest assured I will never agree to his bargain. It will take more than that to turn Bethsevah Mordeigh.

Although he said something strange that night, when the candles had dripped and left their waxy marks on the altar.

“You were made to ruin me, Beth,” he said, “And I will let you do it a thousand—a million—times over.”

He spoke in a dozen different voices, but I can’t deny I liked how the sounds came together and became his own.

You jerked awake with your hand still cradling the book against your chest.

Bethsevah Mordeigh.

You had a name.

You had a name!

You burst out of your room.

“Az! Az! I’ve got something.” You beat your fist against his bedroom door. “Az!” There was silence.

The kitchen was empty, dirty dishes scrubbing themselves clean in the sink. A glance at the clock above the oven told you you’d slept in a great deal.

You took the steps two at a time, sprinting down the hallway towards the west wing. The training arena took up most of the second floor stocked with enough weapons to outfit a small army. Wood and stone knobs stuck out from the wall at extreme angles as part of the climbing gym. The ceiling dipped up and down like draped fabric. On any other day you would have seen Valkyries with rippling arms and backs making their way up to the green flag pinned directly above the room’s center point, bodies straining against the pull of gravity. But not today.

Two of the three mats spaced across the room were occupied and you heard the beat of Illyrian wings before you even opened the double doors.

Feyre and Nesta stood against the side wall bracketed by racks of steel swords, glistening throwing knives, and an Illyrian bow as long as you were tall.

Feyre licked her lips, greedily tracing Rhysand’s powerful form as he went toe to toe with Azriel. You couldn’t help but stare as well as they leapt around the ring in a blur of wings and shadow. You’d never seen Azriel shirtless but… well… it was a sight you could get used to.

It was a dance — a dangerous, deadly dance — and although the language of violence wasn’t one you were familiar with, you could read the display well enough to know that Azriel would win this round.

Sweat glistened on his skin, slipping down the curves of his back where leathery black wings fused with his shoulder blades. Tattoos wrapped around his shoulders and across his chest, pulsing with a life of their own as Azriel cleanly side stepped one of Rhysand’s kicks. There was the faintest crease in the High Lord’s brow to let you know he was getting tired.

But Azriel was just getting started. And now that he knew you were watching? He wanted to make it worth your while.

Rhys gritted his teeth, launching out with a strike quicker than lightning. Someway, somehow, Azriel was faster. He dipped to the side, Rhys’s knuckle just kissing his cheekbones and came up for a counterstrike, slamming his fist so hard into his brother’s cheek that he staggered back.

That was unnecessary. Rhys snapped his jaw back into place.

Azriel grinned. Fatherhood suits you. But I can’t let you get soft.

There was a roll of violet eyes. Sure. That’s why you’re trying so hard right now.

Rhys snatched Azriel’s leg out of the air, rolling onto the ground in a move that sent the Shadowsinger twisting in a graceful arch that had your breath catching in your throat. He broke free of Rhysand’s hold, leaping onto his feet like gravity didn’t apply.

You met his eyes, heady and dark, and could have sworn he winked. But it may have just been a trick of the light.

You ducked your head, hurrying across the room towards Feyre and Nesta and hoping they wouldn’t comment on the flush creeping up your neck.

“Fey—” you began urgently.

The High Lady held up a hand and you fell silent. There was a sheen to her eyes that let you know she was honing in on Rhysand’s moves with more than just her eyes.

Nesta smirked at you as you blushed. You struggled to keep your gaze from drifting back to the powerful display, even as you caught glimpses of Azriel’s tan body out of the corner of your eye. Rippling, bold, strong.

“Don’t worry about staring,” Nesta said with a wicked glimmer. “The boys admire us. We admire them. It’s an even exchange.”

One mat over Cassian was sparing with a new female you’d never seen before. Illyrian, but there was something wrong with her wings. They were held strong and proud above the ground, but they dragged in places where Cassian had control over every minor movement. If you concentrated closely enough, you could make out the thin, shiny scars that had snipped the tendon closest to the apex of her wings, just by the arch of her claws.

Your stomach dropped with horror.

Her wings had been clipped.

She held her own against the Lord of Bloodshed. Cassian might have had the advantage of experience and his longer limbs, but she moved with a daring determination. She dodged every blow by the narrowest margin, conserving her energy so when she was able to slip close and find her opening, she slammed her elbow up and into his nose with a sickening crack that echoed throughout the room.

You winced, hands flying up to your face at the same time that Cassian’s did.

“FUCK!” He roared.

“Whooo! THAT’S MY WIFE!” A gorgeous, curvy blond hung off one of the ring posts, legs propped up on the tensioned ropes.

There was only one member of their family that had ever been described as sunlight incarnate. That had to be Mor. Which meant the striking female currently giving Cassian hell on the mat was Emerie.

Emerie blushed, stealing a heavy look for long enough for Cassian to snap his nose back into place. He ducked down and swept her legs out from beneath her, wrestling her to the ground in a tangle of leather and wings. But Nesta didn’t let him have the advantage for too long.

Cassian choked on the teasing words he’d prepared for Emerie when Nesta sent him a particularly candid image of herself in a strip of black fabric.

For later tonight. She whispered down the bond.

Damn it Nes.

Emerie smashed her forehead into his already swollen nose, then her knee surged up with enough strength to crack ribs. She braced her foot against his chest and flipped him over her head and onto his back, wrapping her powerful legs around his neck and pinning him to the ground with his arm forced back in his socket. Finally he tapped out.

“Poor Illyrian baby,” Nesta crooned as Emerie pulled Cassian to his feet. Despite the blood that dripped from his nose, he was glowing with pride at Emerie. “Better luck next time.”

Mor grasped Emerie by the front of her training gear and yanked her close for a long kiss that left the Illyrian stumbling back with red lipstick smeared over her lips and a dark blush across her caramel cheeks.

Nesta yelped when Cassian wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her off the ground with one arm like she weighed nothing.

“We could try that move tonight. Your legs, my face? But this time I won’t tap out.” Cassian winked and Nesta leveled a sultry glare in his direction, eyes lingering on the sheen of his muscular chest with unabashed heat.

“Get a room,” Mor called out and Emerie threw a towel in his direction. It landed over his shoulder with comical perfection.

“Says the pair that had to disappear to another continent after their wedding ceremony.”

Mor flung an obscene gesture his way and Cassian returned it with equal fervor. “Says the pair that made Azriel run for the hills when he was left to chaperone.”

“Hey! That’s on Rhysand. He never should have left us with a chaperone at all.” Nesta cut in.

“You rang.” Rhysand appeared sweaty and spent behind Mor’s shoulder and slung his arm around her. The bruises on his cheeks were turning darker by the second.

Azriel hovered on the edges of the crowd, glancing at Mor and then at you. He was mildly disappointed that you’d been too busy watching Cass and Emerie to see him win at the end of the fight.

“Gross, get off of me.” Mor shoved her cousin away.

Rhysand’s shoulders shook with laughter. He smiled at you, eyes gleaming with happiness. It had been so long since he’d last seen his cousin.

“Mor.” He gestured to you, “Meet Y/n—” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I think I just realized I don’t know your last name.”

“Halwynn.” You offered up your mother’s last name. Even though you technically didn’t have any right to it as a bastard, it’s the name you’d gone by your whole life.

“Meet Y/n Halwynn,” Rhysand finished.

“The resident intellect,” Mor said, caramel-brown eyes shining. “Well thank the Mother, you showed up when you did.” She looped her arm around yours easily and you caught a whiff of the perfume she’d dotted against her collarbones — amber and vanilla. A ruby the size of your thumb hung from a gold chain, following the dramatic dip in the front of her scarlet dress that left little to the imagination. You thought she might just be the most gorgeous female you’d ever seen.

“We’d be absolutely lost without you. I hope the Library is up to your standards, although let’s be honest, it probably isn’t.”

You agreed a little too quickly.

“Bethsevah Mordeigh.” Rhysand turned the name over in his mind, testing its familiarity and coming up empty. “Any takers?”

You all stood around Rhysand’s desk, the book propped open beside bottles of jet-black ink, eagle-feather pens, and neat stacks of parchment paper.

Everyone shook their heads.

“Fair enough.” He looked disappointed, but not surprised. “We’re only separated by a few thousand years, give or take.”

You paced in front of the windowsill, nervously picking at your fingernails until they were under threat of bleeding. Azriel noticed and one of his shadows gently wrapped around your wrists and pulled your hands apart. You looked at him gratefully and stuck your hands in your pockets.

“The oldest text I’ve seen dates back twelve-thousand years,” Feyre offered. “I’ve also asked Gwyn and Clotho to begin searching.”

“What about the Day Court?” Azriel looked at you.

“I can ask Helion to search the archives. But I’ll warn you, records dating back that far are few and far apart. And priestesses back then were less keen on recording the movements of their members. But we might get lucky with some of her descendants if they ever joined the order. Work our way backwards through history.”

Mor shot Rhysand a look. “Why ask me to come back here now? I could have been of better use searching for this information on the Continent.”

“Now is not the time for you to be traversing foreign lands. Not with Koschei at risk of being let loose.”

You shook your head. “And it wouldn’t matter. Bethsevah wouldn’t have been born on the Continent. If she ever went, it would have only been to trap Koschei. Our best bet is to search for information about her down south.”

The others stared at you in confusion. You blinked as if the answer was obvious. “Organized religion surrounding the Mother emerged in Southern Prythian and her priestesses didn’t spread out to Hybern or the Continent until the Insynthian Age.”

“Your point being?” Nesta folded her arms over her chest. When it came to the specifics of Prythian history, she and Feyre were about as useful as a glass rod in a lightning storm.

“The bit about the candles is a very, very old ceremony. People would write their prayers in blood and have a priestess burn them on a candle made with a strand of their hair woven into the wick. If Bethsevah was a priestess performing this ritual, she would have been an early member of the order. Before the Insynthian Age.”

“That would narrow things down significantly.” Rhysand nodded in approval. “I’ll reach out to Lucien, see if he’ll be able to find anything out for us.”

You pulled a sheef of paper out from your pockets and Helion’s pen. You scribbled down a note to him about what you’d discovered and within five minutes the words were racing south to the Day Court.

“How on earth do you know this?” Mor asked incredulously, looking at you with a mixture of awe and bewilderment.

“I’m a Librarian.” She looked unimpressed by that statement. “I had a religious phase.” You smoothed your thumb over your necklace, feeling for your mother’s seal — a flowering heather and fountain pen crossed over in an “x”.

“A religious phase?”

“Yes.”

She clicked her tongue, red lips turning up in a smirk. “You Day Court fae are certainly something.”

You blushed. “I’ll let you know if I learn anything else.” You went to grab the book, but Mor’s hand slapped down first, pinning it to the table and you with a stare.

“Nope. Work is for tomorrow,” Mor declared, eyes glittering with fondness. “Today, I want to see my city with my family.”

You tapped the book through your robes, counting the rhythmic swings against your hip like a metronome. One. Two. One. Two. One-

Cassian leaned down to whisper, “You’re doing great,” before waving to a male with ash-blonde hair standing beside an apple cart.

Pink ladies, honeycrisps, and ambrosias were piled high into luscious clouds. Two gestures and a flick of a coin through the air later and Cassian was shoving a small, flimsy basket in your hand. Roasted apples covered in burnt sugar and drizzled with caramel seeped into the wax paper.

One. Two. One. Two.

It was still too early for most of the Night Court, but the hustle and bustle in the Palace of Bone and Salt was unperturbed. Now was the time for the owners of small shops to haggle for prices without interfering with common business. The apple cart you just left had a new customer already — a wispy female with candy-floss hair lugging a basket on wheels capable of carrying three bushels for the bakery two streets over.

“Would you like some?” You held the food up to Azriel, but he only stumbled over a crack cobblestone street before shaking his head no.

He was being awfully quiet today. Quieter than usual.

Maybe he’s sick? You thought to yourself. He hadn’t eaten lunch either, but maybe that was just because he disliked the sandwiches you’d made. Or maybe it was because of a certain blond-haired female who kept giving him side glances with questions eating at her from the inside out.

“Come on,” you encouraged, nudging his shoulder. “You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Azriel looked at the apple slice you held out for him like it was a personal torture.

Cassian grinned and slung his arm over your shoulders, peeling you away from Azriel’s side to his relief. The weight was a comfort coming from him and you felt that thrill in your stomach whenever any member of the Inner Circle touched you.

“Azriel won’t starve. I promise, Y/n.”

Nyx thought he might starve. He was a growing boy, and had a stomach to match. He tapped your elbow and you wordlessly passed over the basket to him, but not before snatching a piece for yourself. The sugar crackled, then melted over your tongue, the sharpness from the apple cutting through caramel in a burst of tartness.

“How is Helion doing by the way?” Mor dropped the question casually. “Rhys says you know him well.”

You blinked at her. What did she care about Helion? “I’ve worked on a few projects for him before this one. And he’s doing as well as he can be, I suppose. Things aren’t exactly perfect in the Day Court right now.”

“Ah, Helion,” Mor breathed out, almost wistfully, “He was one of the few good males I ever slept with.”

You choked on your food, sputtering and coughing for long enough that Cassian started to slap your back. You felt your bones shake with each blow.

So… Mor had slept with your father… figures.

Feyre looked at you with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” you said meekly. You shoved more food in your mouth before anyone could ask any further questions.

Azriel felt that familiar pool of jealousy bubble in his stomach at the mention of Helion. You kept rubbing that necklace of yours, Helion’s seal displayed prominently like he’d personally stamped you as his.

He allowed himself to get close enough to brush against your shoulder and a few of his shadows creeped onto your body, weaving themselves into your hair. You looked up at him and smiled.

“You’re in a good mood today.” Azriel’s hazel eyes were brighter in the morning light, flecks of green poking through the amber. “You’re smiling.”

And what didn’t you have to be smiling about? You were finally exploring Velaris. Mor, Cassian, and Nyx had touched you, albeit through the fabric of your robes, and you hadn’t been overwhelmed. And you’d finally been able to take knowledge from the book.

It had been a pinch of information as potent as saltwater. You had gotten a name, and names held power.

Azriel’s eyes glimmered with quiet delight.

“I’m just happy,” you said. “I think things are getting better, with—” You glanced down at where your arms swung side by side and you reached out a finger, allowing it to gently brush against the scars at the top of his left hand. You curled your fingers around his for the briefest moment before letting go. “And… you know.” You shrugged.

Azriel stopped walking abruptly and everyone turned to stare at him. The Shadowsinger was strung taughter than an Illyrian bow.

Mor raised her brow in open appraisal. There was a flash of something like shock in her eyes and then she was buried in Emerie’s hair, whispering something into the female’s rounded ears that had her dark carved eyebrows flying up to her hairline.

“Az?” Rhys asked cheekily, “Everything alright?”

Cassian chuckled and even Nesta smirked.

Last year he was giving Elain and Gwyn the bedroom eyes, and now he short-circuits because Y/n brushes her hand against his? I don’t believe what I’m seeing, Cass.

Some females like their males a little pathetic and lovesick.

You would know.

Cassian chuckled, looping his arm around her waist and burying his lips in her hair. He twirled the face framing pieces between his fingers like he always did, and Nesta tried not to think about how she’d first started leaving them out after meeting the Lord of Bloodshed. It would seem she had once been a pathetic and lovesick fool herself.

I love it when you tease, Nes.

Maybe she still was. Nesta couldn’t help but lean into his touch.

They do make a good couple. She admitted and Cassian was in agreement.

Feyre was thinking the same thing as you twisted towards him, hand still outstretched like there was a string tying your fingers to his. You couldn’t help but want to drift towards him as surely as gravity makes rain fall to the earth.

Does she know? Mor grasped Rhysand’s arm, eyes wide and staring. Does she know they’re mates?

Not yet.

Mor groaned. Are you fucking kidding me?

I wish I was.

Damn you, Azriel.

Azriel shook his head and forced his body to move forward. The world had stopped when you touched him, and it was only just starting to pick up again.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

Nyx munched on his apple slice, staring at you both curiously before following after his mother and father.

“Did you hear something?” You stayed by his side, no longer interested in the aromas fluttering in the air from the bakery, the soup shop with its stone vats bubbling in the back, the smokehouse with its slabs of bacon crackling on grease. “From your shadows?”

“No. Why did you think that?”

“You had a look in your eye, like you weren’t quite there for a second. My mother used to say that I looked like that sometimes when using my powers. Like for a moment I was untethered from the earth and at risk of floating away.”

Azriel saved that piece of information, storing it away in his mind next to the knowledge that you had always wanted a dustbear for a pet because they were such simple, mindless creatures and you never felt overcome in their presence.

“I do feel that way at times.” He waited until your little troupe passed by the spice shops. The particles in the air always made Cassian sneeze. “But not now.”

Everyone dipped into a paisley blue building, the bell ringing with a soft clang to announce their presence.

“Right now I feel… settled.”

You grinned at him brighter than the sun, moon, and stars combined. “Good.”

You followed after the others, and while your back was turned, Mor took her opportunity. She clawed the back of Azriel’s leathers, hauling him down the alleyway before anyone could notice.

Azriel’s eyes blew open in surprise when Mor shoved him up against the wall hard enough for a rain of petals to fall over their heads from the second floor balcony. It would have been romantic if it weren’t for the incredulous look in Mor’s eyes and the fact that Azriel was still caught up in your smile and the feeling of your skin against his. Gods he wished you were the one pressing him against this wall. He couldn’t stop thinking about that hug in Rhysand’s office. He wanted to feel the softness of your body against him once more.

“You idiot!” Mor slapped him across the face and it shocked him back to the present. “Why didn’t you tell me you found your mate?” She hissed.

Azriel looked frantically back to the street, half expecting you to be standing there with your inquisitive eyes. It was still a jolt to his system whenever anyone used that word: mate. Equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. It was such a fragile word, and the others tossed it around so dangerously.

“I didn’t—” Azriel stammered. Mor and Emerie’s arrival this morning had been unexpected for everyone except Rhysand and Feyre. “There wasn’t time.” “So?! You should’ve made time.” Mor stepped away, letting the Shadowsinger back down onto his feet. He had the good sense to look sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck while Mor tossed her waist length hair over her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed pink, tanned and freckled from her time on the Continent.

Azriel felt that familiar coil of guilt building in his stomach and he tried to remember the apology he’d been preparing for this exact moment when he and Mor would be alone.

He cleared his throat and bowed his head to the ground in a picture of reverent apology. “Mor, about what I said—”

She crashed into him again, arms looping around his neck and squeezing him so tightly he felt his ribs crack. And she was… laughing?

“You have a mate!” She giggled through happy tears, bouncing on her feet. Her heels clicked against the granite tiles. “My best friend finally has a mate!”

She kept repeating it over and over again, like she couldn’t quite believe it herself.

“Mor, please. Keep it down.” They were attracting attention and Azriel wordlessly summoned his shadows to hide them from view.

Mor finally let him go, covering her mouth with her hands. “I’m sorry I just—” She squealed.

Azriel let out a long, heavy sigh. This was closer to the reaction he should have had when Mor and Emerie announced their engagement. Instead he’d gone cold and silent.

He should have known Mor preferred females, and maybe he had known all along that Mor could never love him the way he’d once loved her. But he’d done what he always did when it came to love and ran forward with a blindfold on, hoping his aim was true but never bothering to check.

Mor furrowed her brows. “Are you upset by this? Why do you look like that?”

“What?” Azriel hissed like the question physically hurt him. “No. No! I’m not upset, I’m—” He clenched his fists and said in a small voice, “I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.” He took a deep breath and winced, “And I’m thinking that you must have felt similarly when you got together with Emerie, and that I royally fucked up by reacting the way that I did.”

He could picture it clear as day — Mor’s radiant smile slipping off her face, left hand dropping behind her back to hide the glittering ruby, the tears that gathered in her eyes when all Azriel did was remain stiff as stone before dropping off the balcony at her engagement party.

Mor hesitated then tucked her honey-gold waves behind her ears like she did whenever she was uncomfortable. “I should have told you sooner.” Azriel knew she was referring to more than just her relationship with Emerie. “I knew you loved me and I let you believe for so long that there might be a chance I could return those feelings. But I was scared because… because I wanted to know there would always be someone waiting for me if…” She pressed her hands over her stomach. The nails may have disappeared from her body without a trace, but they’d been hammered elsewhere in her soul and she hadn’t managed to take them out just yet. “It was wrong of me to use you like that. To keep you waiting for so long.”

Azriel rubbed her shoulders. “I think you gave me more than a few hints that it wouldn’t work out. Chief among them, Cassian.” Mor’s gaze dropped to her feet, but all Azriel did was press a gentle kiss to the crown of her forehead. “I still love you, Mor, and I always will. It’s just a different kind of love now. I’m happy for you and Emerie. Truly.”

“Yeah?” She looked up hopefully.

Azriel nodded. He pulled Mor close, wrapping his wings around her to block out the sounds of bartering happening in the square. They stayed like that for a long while, until the shadows on the wall had dropped another inch.

Mor sniffled and pushed him away. “Ok, enough of this now.” She carefully brushed away at the corner of her eyes, “You’re ruining my makeup.”

Azriel’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, and Mor noted how it seemed to come easier to him now.

The whole day you’d felt that something was amiss, but it wasn’t until a flustered artisan carrying bolts of spider silk fabric crashed into you that you realized what it was.

You stumbled into Azriel’s sturdy arms, feeling the strength and power beneath his leathers as he propped you up against his side.

“So sorry, miss. Please forgive me.” The artisan blubbered. His cat eyes glowed a pale orange as they flickered over you from head to toe, “Can’t see with this.” He lifted the bolt. There was something about his gaze that unsettled you, like he was searching for something. Like he was hungry. Or scared.

“It’s alright.” You adjusted your clothes, tucked the book behind your back so it was pressed up against Azriel’s hip.

That look in his eyes disappeared and he huffed in relief before continuing down the cobblestone streets, too much in a hurry to notice the Shadowsinger glaring at him.

“Are you ok?” He let you find your footing, keeping his hand at the small of your back.

You stared at the male’s retreating form. “He didn’t… he didn’t bow to you. To any of you.” You blinked at Feyre and Rhysand.

She wore no crown, no jewelry except the ring on her finger and the diamonds in her ears, but the male must have known he was in the presence of his High Lady. And there was no mistaking Rhysand and his brothers.

“Like Azriel said when you first arrived here, we take the casual approach.” Feyre said, and as if to make the point, Nyx shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side in a manner so like Rhys that Azriel and Cassian burst out laughing. Rhys looked down fondly and brushed back his hair.

Feyre drifted to your side, watching with amusement as Nyx disappeared into the forest of color that was the Palace of Thread and Jewels. Every inch of fabric was too precious to be wasted, and so the weavers collected the scraps and tied them together, end to end, until they became one long chain. They hung from the entrances of shops, from the arches criss-crossing overhead, and from hand-painted signs. They wrapped around doorways and caught on the shoulders of passerbys, whispering of the time and effort spent crafting them.

Nyx weaved in and out of these strands, chased by Cassian and Azriel as they pretended to be tricked by the little boy’s lithe footsteps. You gasped as he turned invisible, then reappeared four inches to his left, jabbing at Azriel’s side before disappearing again.

“He can wrap light around himself as much as he can weave darkness,” Feyre explained, staying close to your side, “I think he might have gotten some remnant of the Day Court’s power from me. It made him an absolute nightmare for about three years when he couldn’t control it. Can you imagine having a toddler waddling around and wreaking havoc that you can’t even see?”

Nesta let out a sharp breath of laughter. “I think that’s an experience unique to you, Fey.”

You had to agree. You’d never turned invisible as a child, although you had to admit it would have been a very useful power to inherit from your father.

“Gotcha! You little rascal!” Cassian said triumphantly.

You heard Nyx shriek with laughter. Cassian and Azriel both had one arm raised above their heads and with a little shake the boy came back into view, dangling upside down from his ankles.

“Don’t break the boy, Cass.”

“I won’t break him, Rhys. Gotta let him grow old enough to beat all those bastards at Windhaven, don’t I?”

Rhys and Feyre’s smiles slipped ever so slightly.

Nyx was lowered to the ground. He kept his arms out and balanced on his hands for a brief moment before walking over onto his feet with a flourish.

“Gwyn taught me that last week. She’s part river nymph. Very flexible.” He brushed invisible dirt from his shirt and continued on, leading the way towards the Sidra like he owned the place — which in some respects he did.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

Just another little chapter with more slowburn antics between Y/n and Azriel! And! Mor and Emerie are here! I am slowly but surely collecting characters like pokemon cards because you know I want to have my favorites in Velaris when shit starts to go down...

#azriel x reader #azriel x reader slowburn #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #the shadowsinger and the inkbird #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel angst #azriel spymaster

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moonlightazriel · 11 months ago

Text

Steamy ///Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: The morning after solstice you find that Azriel is gone, but his family is more than happy to take you to him.

Warnings: SMUT

Word Count: 1,6K

Notes: I mean, it’s night somewhere so it’s Smutty Time!!! With a very long delay cuz I promised this back in 2023 heheheh

Main Masterlist

She grasped the sheets, head turning to the side, eyes opening just enough to peek why the hell the bed was empty and the sheets were cold. She fully opened her eyes, he had probably left a few hours ago, it was the morning after solstice, Rhysand wouldn’t send him on a mission so soon, right?

She got up, taking a hot shower to shake off the freezing sensation creeping up her body, wearing a pair of fluffy leggings, boots and a heavy coat, she made her way to the dinner room, where Feyre and Nesta happily chatted.

“Hello!” She greeted, still feeling a bit awkward, after all, she had been in their life for what? 7 months now? The bond had snapped for her and Azriel as soon as he went to the jewellery store she worked at, and they haven’t been apart since. She was still getting to know the family, so she quietly sat a few chairs away from them.

“Hey, good morning Y/N.” Feyre greeted her with a smile, her face was a little bit rounder and she shined with the second pregnancy. Nesta just nodded her head towards her.

“Do you guys know where Azriel is? He wasn’t in bed the morning.” She fidgeted with her fingers, her shy self feeling a little bit self conscious without his comforting presence, it didn’t help that the two females exchanged big grins before turning to her.

“We can take you to him, if you want to.” Nesta offered her blue eyes with devilish intentions.

“That would be very nice of you, thank you.” Y/N smiled, and the sisters finished their breakfast before Feyre was winnowing them.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The winds were strong, the cold made her shiver to the bones, the snowy mountain was the last place she expected to be right now. She saw a cabin at the distance, and Feyre led the way there, with the two other females glued to her side in case she needed any help.

She saw two figures by the door, her heart increasing the heartbeat with excitement but as she got closer, Rhysand smiled at them and Cassian ran, scooping Nesta in his arms and flying away with her, like they were in a hurry.

“Azriel is in the back darling, enjoy your day.” Rhysand said with a smug look, pointing to the back of the cabin, before Y/N could thank him, he and Feyre were also gone.

She walked towards the back, cursing a little when she slipped in the snow. The wards, as she noticed, kept the wind away, and she was thankful for not having the extra force against her. It felt like forever, but she finally reached the back, a door with a tiny glass frame in the middle welcomed her, the glass was foggy and she couldn’t see anything inside.

She pushed the door open, steam coming out of it in waves, as she stepped inside, the heavy door closed, pushing her forward inside the room. It took one look around to find him. Sweat coated his body, and she followed a droplet that ran from his chin all the way down his chest and into his defined abdomen, she felt her mouth go dry as she saw it disappear between his legs, near to his long cock.

His legs were parted open and his arms held each side of the bench he was sitting in, wings relaxed behind his back and his head was resting back, the vein in his neck pulsing with blood as he swallowed. She finally managed to take her eyes off his body and found him, looking at her with only an eye open.

“What a beautiful surprise.” His raspy voice made her intern walls clench involuntarily.

“You were m-missing, they said they could take me to you and they left me alone h-ere.” She rambled and stammered, she tended to do it when she was nervous, and right now a wave of anxiety and anticipation moved around her body, leaving her on alert.

“But you’re not alone, are you?” He replied with a smirk, and her cheeks blushed even harder, not only from the heat of the room. “Come here, my beautiful, beautiful Y/N.”

She forced her legs to move, stopping in front of him. He sat straight now, one of his hands resting on his naked thigh, the other grabbed her from behind, squeezing her ass, he could feel her soft flash even with the thick fabric between them.

“Can I?” He asked, his voice making goosebumps on her skin, she nodded her head, and he pulled her leg up, removing the boots and the socks, repeating the same process in the other feet. “No one wears clothes in a steam room, love.” He spoke like he was scolding a child, right before pulling her leggings down, taking her panties with him in the process.

She felt the urge to cover herself, her hands moving in pure instinct but two strings of shadows pulled her wrists away. “No no no no. You’re so gorgeous, never hide yourself from me again.” He reprimanded her and she nodded furiously. “Good girl.” His raspy voice sounded so good right now, the heat in her core increased just with that.

Azriel’s cock was throbbing at this point, his mate and him, alone in that cabin? Oh, the things that crossed his mine were far away from pure, he wanted to take her in every surface possible, again and again until she was drunk from him and sore from his cock.

He held his cock in one hand, while she positioned herself with her legs on each side of his body, caging him between her aching core, she slowly sunk down, taking him inside inch by inch, until she was fully seated on his lap and his cock rested comfortably inside her warm walls. She made a move but he held her waist, forcing her to stop.

“We have all day, let’s just enjoy, shall we?” She nodded. “Use your words.” He instructed.

“Yes, Daddy.” The feeling of being full was enough to make her slippery walls clench around him, she tried to stop but to no avail.

While she sat there, taking him, he gently removed her coat, then her shirt, exposing her chest to his hungry gaze. Her breasts spilled from the red bralette. That piece was soon gone too and replaced by his lips. He carefully took her inside his mouth, licking and biting on the warm flash. She whimpered at the sensation, letting her head fall backwards as he mouthed at her breasts with no mercy, alternating between the two, until she was moving her hips without even noticing.

Azriel growled against her chest, as he felt her moving, but the feeling of having her delicious cunt around him was getting too much to bear, he was just glad that she was the first one to break. He grabbed her hair, turning her head to the side until he was biting her ear.

“You know I’ll have to punish you for that, don’t you love?” She was going to nod but instead, her shaky voice sounded in the room.

“Yes daddy, i'm sorry for misbehaving.” She stopped her movements completely.

“You can continue, we’ll think about that later.” He grabbed her hips with one hand, helping her move as the other pushed her chest against his hungry lips.

He felt her body shaking, and by the way her walls clenched around him, he knew she was close. Her orgasm hit her like a wave, making her moan loudly as the waves of pleasure clashed against her. Azriel was the one moving now, angling his hips up until he was hitting that damned spot inside her, his shadows moved against her clit and she felt a second orgasm growing closer.

Her sweat body easily sliding against his, they were panting and red, the sensation was too much to bear, her open lips spilled his name as she moaned.

“It’s too much Daddy, I can’t take it.” She cried and Azriel looked at her.

“It’s too much when I say it’s too much, now be a good girl and take what Daddy is giving you.” She nodded and for now he would accept that. She came with a cry of his name at the same time he spilled inside her. Hot stings of cum coating her insides. She collapsed on his chest, trying to recover her breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing the sticky hair from her forehead before placing a kiss to it.

“Yes.” She quietly muttered, feeling tiredness consume her body.

“Don’t ever be afraid of using your safe word if it’s too much.” He reminded her and she nodded.

“I trust you, and I’ll always use it when things get too bad for me.” He kissed her delicately in the lips.

“Good girl, now let’s discuss your punishment.” He smirked and she felt the fire igniting again.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Two days later was when they got back. Appearing in the River House, where the rest of the sat for dinner, he took a seat, pulling his mate with him.

“It was cold in the mountains.” Feyre started.

“Hopefully you two found a way of getting warm.” Cassian sneered.

“With all the respect, fuck you two.” Azriel showed them his middle fingers, making them giggle. “I liked it better when Suriel was the biggest gossip in Prythian instead of the two of you.”

“You love us.” Cassian made a heart with his hands to which Azriel just rolled his eyes.

“You will get used to it.” He turned to his mate, she watched the exchange with a smile.

“Just wait until I’m confident enough, it will be the biggest gossip trio in all Prythian.” She giggled, having Cassian and Feyre joining her.

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #sarahjmaas #moonlightazriel #azriel #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #night court #azriel x y/n #velaris #azriel smut #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar

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