#they are like Well At least he's not Rhys!. and is like babe even i have issues with rhys but atleast he didn't abused women

[rosenecklaces]

the memory lost when it comes to men in this fanbase is amazing like some people really be forgetting eris is a misogynist and is unapologetic about it lol

[pit-and-the-pen]

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart (Pt 2 to unrequited love)

A/n: HERE IT IS BESTIES!!! The official Pt 2 to unrequited love! I know the poll is still live but I’m impatient. So to make sure I’m still taking everyone’s votes into account there will be an alternate ending that should be posted right after this.

Read the Alt ending here, it's pretty similar in places

Read Pt 3 here

I'm still absolutely blown away by how well-received the first part was. This is going to be an ongoing series, all could be read individually but the "background" will be these two fics.

Warnings: Angst, Cursing, reader suffers from depressed thoughts

WC: ~3.4k

divder by @cafekitsune

The next morning I was in Rhys office. He barely even looked up from the paper strewn over his desk before I spoke. 

“I’m going back home.” 

He sighed, leaning back into his chair. His eyes raked over me, “Does this have anything to do with why Azriel was so huffy this morning?” His eyebrow raised and I felt the anger I’d been trying to quell since last night rise its head up like a sleeping dragon.

“Fuck off. Let him be mad if he wants to be mad.” I snapped. 

“Mad isn’t exactly how I would put it,” He paused looking at me. “What happened?” The High Lord questioned. I sighed not having the strength to recount the events from last night. 

“Nothing but the inevitable.” he frowned at my non-answer but didn’t press any harder. 

“I’ll miss you. We all will.” He said finally. I nodded. 

“You all should visit.” Not an I’ll visit. No. If I could avoid it I would never step foot into this miserable court ever again. 

I was gone by mid-morning. Mor had helped me winnow the things I wanted to take with me. What they did with the rest wasn’t any of my concern. Rhys or Feyre had bought it all for me anyways, let them decide what to do with their money. 

Once I had gotten settled into my room, I hugged Mor goodbye and thanked her for her help. She just gave me a tighter hug and told me she would visit soon. 

It was two weeks before I could see Helion.Two weeks of settling back into my court that I loved so dearly.  He was visiting Dawn court for some trade agreement that needed to be signed. I came by every day, asking if he’d returned you. His second would just silently shake her head at me. And I would stomp back to my room like an angry babe. 

Two weeks of checking before I finally saw her nod her head and I had to stop myself from running into Helions office. I had the control to at least knock on the door but not much else. I quickly shut the door behind me as he called me in. 

“Sunbeam!” He called out when saw my face. “I had hoped the rumors of you moving back home were true.” He walked around the desk and gave me a brisk hug. Very out of character for him. 

“You’re not an easy man to schedule an appointment with, Helion.” I smiled warmly at the High Lord of my court. 

“If you wanted a piece of me, you only had to say the words and I would have come running darling.” There's the flirt I remember. I thought, rolling my eyes.

“But judging by your urgency in requesting a meeting that my second expressed to me, I’m going to assume that’s not what you wanted to see me for.”

My smile dropped as I braced myself for the question I needed to ask him.

“I need you to break a mating bond”

His mouth fell open. For once in my life, Helion was speechless. “I don’t know if I can even do that. Are you sure that’s what you want?” His eyes saw right through me. I threw my head back, a sad laugh bubbling past my lips. 

“Yes. No. Gods I don’t know. I just don’t want it to hurt like this forever.” I felt treacherous tears starting to fall down my face. Helion grabbed my arms gently before I could wipe them away. 

“I know you well enough to know that you don’t run away from hard things.” He held me against his chest as I really started to sob. 

“Helion. Every second that I’m away from him it kills me. I’m over here dying inside over some male who only ever saw me as a second option.” 

“Then he’s an idiot. But the mother still saw fit to make you two mates. Give it some more thought, you’re clearly still not fully decided. I’ll do some research to see if it’s even possible and if you still want to, I’ll be here to help.” I nodded my thanks into his shirt. He takes my head between his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe the tears still streaking down my face. He gives me a gentle kiss on the top of my head before I walk out of the room. 

I sat on the decision for a month. A month of volleying back and forth. Weighting the pros and cons of my choice. I had started doing my own research through the tomes in the library I had access to. My eyes widened as I finally found the information I needed. 

Picking up the book I all but sprinted to Helion’s office. I didn't bother knocking as I pushed past the door. Helion looked up from his desk and raised an eyebrow at me. 

Panting, I showed him the page in the book. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life.” I promised him. He still looked skeptical but walked around to where I stood anyway. 

“I can’t say this is going to be pleasant.” He said wearily as I laid down on the couch in his study. “I’ve never heard of anyone doing this. I’ve seen rejection but this is cutting off the magic at the source.”

I looked into the males eyes, eyes I had known my whole life.

“Please. Nothing can hurt more than this already does.” Sympathy washed over his face and he leaned over me, placing a hand to each of my temples. It felt like the worst headache I had ever had in my life. My head was being split open and I heard the whimper leave my mouth. The pressure of his hands lifted slightly and I fought to get out the words. “I’m okay. Keep going.” I couldn’t open my eyes to see his face but his hands didn’t move. The pounding broke to a burning heat. I could feel the moment it snapped, I could almost picture the scissors snipping that tight string that connected us. One last fleeting rush of pure pain pushed through the bond. And then it was gone. My head was still pounding, I opened my eyes and saw Helion panted above me. 

“How do you feel?” He asked, helping me into a sitting position. 

“Like I have one hell of a hangover.” I pressed a hand to the bridge of my nose. Like I could squeeze out the uncomfortable feeling. “But also lighter.” My free hand going to my chest. It would take some time to adjust to this new feeling. But I could not stop the smile that spread over my face. Before Helion could say anything else, I reached up to wrap my arms around his neck.

“I can’t thank you enough.” I said into his neck. He gave a tight laugh and hugged me back. 

“You should go sleep this off. Please tell me if any of the pain gets worse.” He held my face between his hands and I nodded as much as I could. I all but floated back to my room. 

I fell into a familiar routine back in the Day Court. I took up my old job as a researcher. My days were spent surrounded by the massive libraries of my home court. People would come to us with questions and it was our job to use the knowledge at our disposal to find them answers. It kept me busy at the very least, but I did have to admit that I love doing it. I felt more useful here than I ever had at the Night Court. Pangs of sadness would rip through me when someone snarked in a way that made me think of Cassian. When someone would smirk and I could only picture Rhysand standing in front of me as he beat me in chess. The art was so beautiful that I longed to show Feyre if only to see that twinkle in eye as she dissected the colors and shading used. 

I smiled as the pang in my chest at the thought of Azriel held no pain. It had taken me some time to get used to the emptiness in my chest, I had grown so used to the hollow feeling of the unreturned bond but this emptiness wasn’t pain but instead it was like a weight had been taken off my chest. 

Someone calling my name pulled me from my musing. One of the messengers, Dia, smiled brightly up at me. “Hey sunbeam. Helion asked me to deliver this to you.” I took the golden envelope from her. I thanked her and she turned around, leaving me back to my books. 

I slid my finger under the seal and pulled out the letter. He was flirty even in a letter. He had requested that I accompany him to the latest ball he was hosting. Helion, ever the charmer, even placed boxes for me to check yes or no. I giggled to myself at the juvenile nature of it, but checked yes with the quill sitting next to me. 

The ball was just a few days away and I was so excited as dress after dress were brought into my room for me to try on. The one that ended up catching my eye was a floor length glossimer dress, such a pale golden color it looked almost like sunlight itself. The bottom was dyed a light pink color that flowed into it seamlessly. It took my breath away as I smoothed out the light fabric. It fit like a glove and I knew instantly this was the dress I had to wear. 

My reflection looked like a stranger. My hair was pinned to one side, sweeping down over my shoulder and my back. A golden tiara was woven into loose curls. Long golden chandelier earrings studded with diamonds almost touched my shoulders. The sun had created a sultry blush on the high points of my cheeks. I looked happier than I had in years. I sensed Helion's presence in my room and caught his eyes in the floor length mirror. 

He let out a low whistle and I blushed, adjusting my tiara. I walked over to him and he held out his hand for me, twirling me around dramatically when I took it. “No one will be able to take their eyes off of you, Sunbeam.” His eyes hungirly raked over me, “If you ever reconsider my offer. I would take you to bed in a heartbeat. Just say the words.” I pushed his shoulder, I didn’t doubt his words. 

“Keep your pants on Helion. We have a ball to get to.” 

“I’m High Lord. I can be late.” His pupils had dilated and I rolled my eyes, pushing him out the door before I linked my arm into his. 

The ball was as lavish as I had expected. There was much to celebrate and this was mostly to welcome the new High Lord. Eris. Beron had finally died a few months back and Eris had officially stepped into the role with grace. The autumn court once known for its cruelty seemed to be taking a new direction and as I talked to nobility from the court, it was for the better. I had gotten to know him over the years, his frequent visits to the Night Court, plus a few flirty exchanges that I always brushed off, while he was helping us during the war softened me to him. Learning the true events of that night with Mor. 

I locked eyes with Eris across the room. He had been heartbreakingly handsome when he was just High Fae but as a High Lord? His hair had grown slightly longer, just touching his shoulders. Dressed in a deep maroon suit that showed off every single one of his muscles. The permanent scowl that had been etched into his face had been replaced with a smile that radiated comfort. My feet seemed to move without deciding to. Eris kept his eyes locked onto mine as I got closer. My cheeks heated up under his intense stare. 

“Hi little sunbeam,” Honeyed words wrapped around me. “Seems like you’re no longer hiding in the shadows.” He held out his hand, eyes flickering to the dance floor. I smiled up at him and gently placed my hand in his. 

His touch was firm and the warmth of his power radiated off of him. He clutched my waist, pulling me flush to his front. I felt every plane of his toned body pressed against me and goosebumps broke out across my skin having nothing to do with the temperature in the room. The two of us gilded across the floor. I could feel the eyes of the room on us but I only had eyes for the male in front of me. 

“If I had known you danced this good, I would have pulled you out of that miserable court a long time ago.” He spoke into the shell of my ear.  “I’ll never understand what the Shadowslinger was thinking, even I could smell the mating bond on you. Plus, one look at me with those beautiful doe eyes and I would have been putty in your hands.” He nipped at my earlobe and I felt it deep in my stomach. 

“Well good thing he’s not my mate anymore.” I whispered back to him, voice breathy. He responded with a kiss to my neck. All of a sudden I felt his warmth disappear. Before I could even process what had happened, I was standing half ways across the room. Eris just smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“Stand down, you overgrown bat.” The High Lord said and that’s when I heard the growl from my side, caught a glimpse of wings and sapphire blue. Before another word could leave my mouth, I was being pulled out of the ballroom and outside to the balcony. 

I thrashed against Azriel’s grip on my arm. His hand wrapped around my wrist tight enough to bruise. 

“What the hel was that?” He yelled at me, finally letting go of my wrist.

“You had no right!” I screeched at him. Anger seethed through me. I felt my palms heat up from the light trying to escape from them. He went to grab my arm and I ripped it back from his reach. “Don’t you fucking dare.” 

“Please.” Was all he said and suddenly it was like that night all over again. Me pouring my heart out and all he could say was please. 

“Please what, Azriel? Is that all you know how to do, beg and plead. For what? Was breaking my heart once not enough for you.” 

“Gods. What do you want me to say?” He ran his hands through his hair. He looked like he was about to lose it. Good. “Do you want to hear how I was fucking terrified. How any good thing that I had ever received had been taken away from me? That when I felt that twinge in my chest, that I knew what it meant but prayed to the gods that it wasn’t that.” I went to start in on him again. “Would hearing that I looked for you in every female I came across help us here?.” 

“Stop. Just stop. I’m sure you’ve rehearsed this all before but do you actually think I’m stupid enough to believe it?” I spit out between my teeth. 

“No. Gods this is coming out all wrong.” He ran a frantic hand through his hair. I clocked the shake in them “Why did you break the bond?”

I laughed at his audacity. “Why? You have the nerve to ask me why?” My voice dripped venom, “I did it because I couldn’t stand being tied to you like that. That night..” I started, he interrupted me.

“I said the most vile things I could think of. I panicked when you told me about the bond. If you could feel it too, I knew nothing good could have come from that so I pushed you away.” I shook my head, as if I could shake his words away from my ears. 

“You seemed so shocked when I told you.” 

His head sunk down, voice small “I was shocked because no part of me believed, believes, that I deserve you in that way.” When he stepped forward, I didn’t step away. Mind too busy catching up with his words. “Please say something. “ 

I turned my eyes up to look at him. Hazel eyes soft sparkling with unshed tears. I wanted to rip into him. I truly did. Some sick part of me wanted to make him hurt like he had hurt me but I know that wouldn’t fix anything here. What is done was done. 

“You don’t get to do this to me. You don’t get to say all the right things and just have me forgive you. You don’t get to say that you love me after everything you did.” He sighed. Leaning his head on top of mine. I frowned at the contact, but didn’t push him away, refusing to melt into him. “Whatever your reason. You said all those things that you knew would hurt me, you said them and some part of you had to believe them.” 

“I know. There isn’t a day that I don’t regret everything that I said, everything I had put you through over all those years. I took you for granted and I didn’t realize how much I loved you until you were gone. Until I felt that bond being snatched away from me” I wanted to push him back but something in me let his words sink into my bones. 

“I had dreamed for so long how it would feel when I finally heard you say those words, And do you know what I feel?” His eyes glimmered with hope as I took a step away from him, out of his grasp. “Nothing. I feel nothing for you. Not anger, not contempt.” Tears slipped out of his eyes at my harsh words. “Of course I remember what it felt like before. Maybe some part of me will always love you in my own way but I’m not tied to you anymore and I have never been so thankful for something in my entire life.” He flinched like I had hit him.

“Do you really mean that?” His voice was so small it almost made me feel bad for him. Almost.

“I do.” I sucked in a heavy breath. “Look, we’ll most likely still have to see each other so I don’t want to end on a bad note. You were still one of my best friends for over a century and this doesn’t undo all of that but this,” I gesture between the two of us, “Will never be anything else but that, a friendship.” He gave me a sad smile. 

“I’ll take whatever you are willing to give me.” I turned to walk away and he reached for my arm, I grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before I walked back to the ball that was in full swing. 

I weaved in between bodies easily. Finding Eris with ease. Despite being in the middle of a conversation, he stepped away the moment he sensed my presence. Not sparing a glance to the fae surrounding him. 

“That’s all settled then?” He asked, giving me a once over. I nodded and took his hand again.

“I believe we were in the middle of a dance?” I pulled him against me, not realizing how much I missed the feeling of his heat against my skin. I placed my head on his chest. We didn’t so much as dance, more so swayed in place. Arms wrapped around each other. He tapped my chin with a gentle finger and I let him guide my mouth up to his. The kiss was soft and sweet, like holding your hands in front of a warm fire after a day in the cold. When I tried to deepen it, he laughed against my lips. I let out a shameless whine as he disconnected our lips. As I looked into his eyes, I felt the stirring of something familiar and for the first time, welcomed it as that hole in my chest was filled again.

Tagging people that seemed excited about pt. 2

@cleverzonkwombatsludge @yearninglustfully @myromanempiree @starsandsins @melmo567 @saltedcoffeescotch

[homeslices]

Euphoria (Azriel x pregnant!reader)

Summary: You and Azriel find out you’re pregnant.

A/N: Thought his idea was cute and I’m thinking about making this an entire series of dad!Azriel. Also I’m sorry if this isn’t good, it’s my first time writing anything for acotar, but I do really like it so I plan on writing more in the future.

Pairings: Azriel x pregnant!Reader

Warnings: suggests smut, slight angst about not being able to conceive a baby (fluff to make up)

Word Count: 1.0k

Azriel and you had been trying to have a babe for a while. While the only people in the Inner Circle who had a child was Rhys and Feyre, you have been mated for hundreds of years and were beyond ready. 

Having children was something you had to have many lengthy discussions about first. Azriel’s trauma with his family as a child and your own trauma being an Illyrian women whose wings got clipped before being cast out of your home only too be found and taken in by Rhys’s his mother, were all things you both had to think about before even considering bringing a babe in this world. That’s not even mentioning the war you and all of your loved ones fought in and somehow survived. However, seeing Feyre and Rhy being amazing parents to their son, and just seeing Nyx in general, has confirmed what you both have wanted for a while. 

But, as much as you both wanted a child, it just did not happen. It’s been years since you started trying, and as much as you love to be with Azriel intimately, it started to feel more like a task rather than something fun. There have been a few nights that Azriel has woken up because you forgot to close the bond and was flooded with your feelings of self-loathing. All he could do was cup your tearstained face and whisper reassuring and loving words to you. You blamed yourself and as much as Azriel denied it, those thoughts just didn’t go away.

After the third night of that happening, both you and Azriel decided to just stop trying. Of course you both would continue to not take the tonic, but your goal while being intimate was no longer having a baby, it was to enjoy each other. After a time, sex was pleasurable again, your mindset improved, and while you did have moments of self doubt, Azriel was always there for you as you were for him. Similarly, your family was amazing the entire time. While Azriel and you were fairly private about the situation, you didn’t hide what was going on with them. Their support helped you heal, both of you. It’s been a few years since then, Nyx was now six and it is true that time heals all wounds. 

Azriel was the one who noticed it first. The sun was starting to rise, light beginning to stream through the window of Azriel and your shared bedroom. It was one of those rare occasions that neither of you had to go anywhere that morning, however, Azriel was so used to being up before the sun that he was already awake. Your face was peaceful as you slept, your bare figure tangled in the sheets, and the only noise heard was your soft breathing. His hazel eyes watched your calm face, all the while having his shadows watch both of your surroundings. Weirdly enough, his shadows also kept brushing over you, almost like they were scared to let you out of their grip. It reminded him of when you first mated, at least one of his shadows had to be with you at all times once both of you got out of the frenzy.

There was something different, something unusual that Azriel could sense that made him feel uneasy, but not on edge. It bothered him, however, as your eyes fluttered open and you shifted your body to face your mate, it hit him. Well, your scent hit him. Before, the room smelled of the previous night’s activities, but with your change in position, he could now make out that your scent has changed. It was subtle, but the slight sweetness in the air was all that was needed to figure out what was so strange. 

Azriel’s face was the first thing you saw as you woke up. Despite being able to mask how he’s feeling extremely well, his slightly widened eyes, along with the millions of thoughts running rampant behind them, were all telltale signs that he was in shock. 

You hum curiously before speaking.

“What is it?” you question while reaching up to cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb along his cheek. You could feel the coolness of his shadows brushing all over your body, it was comforting yet slightly unusual to wake up to. 

“You're pregnant.” 

Sitting up suddenly, as if a bucket of ice water had been spilt on you, you look at him bewildered.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

A grin filled with pure joy took over his face as he answered you once again. 

“You’re pregnant.”

All you could feel was disbelief and elation. You could now tell that your scent was different and all you could do was look at your husband, your mate, incredulously. His deep laugh fills the room, only further showing his happiness. You beam at him as he lifts you in his arms and settles you on his lap. His bare skin felt warm against yours, and the chill that continued to brush over you from the shadows felt perfect against you. The only time you’ve felt this overjoyed was when you found out you were mated to Azriel. You brush your lips against his as he cups your face, brushing away the tears you didn’t know were falling. 

You knew things were going to change from that point on. You knew how male got when their mate was pregnant, how protective they became. You saw first hand when Feyre was pregnant with Nyx, she could never move more than a few feet away before Rhys was next to her once again, and if a stranger came up to her, everyone could feel the power he unleashed to get them away. Rhys had mentioned it was similar to how males are after first being mated, but also said that that is nothing compared to how protective he felt of his mate carrying his child. 

You knew that this was only the beginning of troubles you would face. But at this point in time, wrapped in one another’s embrace, tenderly kissing tears of joy off each other's face while the morning light poured in, all you could feel was euphoria. 

[ellievickstar]

His Second Choice?

A/N: So my first ever fic was Azriel angst…thus, this. I have curated what I consider to be the worst thing of all time, being someone’s second choice, especially if you are their soulmate.

Summary: When then mating bond finally snaps into place, what are you meant to do when you realise your mate has another in his heart, will you break it off to save yourself, or will your mate be able to save this heartbreak?

Request: N/A

Pairing: Azriel x Witch!Reader, Azriel x Elain, Nessian, Feysand.

Warnings: Angst. Tears. Mentions of witchcraft. Elain Slander. Being someone’s second option. (If you are in a similar situation, BREAK IT OFF. He or she is not worth it), Azriel being incredibly stupid. Elain slander. Thanks to @azrielhours for helping me come up with the idea! I also added my own take of the Hanahaki Disease with Azzy. Hope you enjoy, love you babes <3

My Masterlists & Rules

~*~*~*~*~

You walked down the hall, and noticed that there was a slight bounce in your step, smiling as you recalled the reason why. Today was finally the day, after weeks of going on countless missions for Rhys, Azriel could finally have dinner with you as usual, and just in time to. Today you were celebrating finally being able to finish the last book of your series, quite popular now, no doubt thanks to Feyre's connections to a famous publisher, which allowed the series to get the exposure it needed. (A/N: Is this how publishing books work? Someone please educate me)

Thanks to the help of Mor and Nesta's fashionable taste in dresses, they had picked out a wonderful dress. It was a dark navy blue, azriel's favourite colour, which faded into white with golden accents. The sleeves were off the shoulder, lined with flowers sewn and embroidered into the top. You were in absolute awe when you saw it and had tried it on immediately, thankfully it fit you well, and you wished the two females well before heading to bottom of the stairs to the House of Wind, where Azriel agreed to pick you up.

You wondered what he'd think as you fidgeted with the layers of your dress, occasionally summoning spells to pass time. During the first hour, you just played with your magic, bored. During the second hour, you begun to worry that he might have been injured during the mission. During the third, you were ready to summon Rhys

That's when Cassian and Nesta came across you and asked you why you weren't with Azriel and you made a painful realisation.

You had stood there, waiting like a fool. Thinking that maybe, your mate would still care enough to at least show up if he was tired from his mission. Stood there, until Nesta and Cassian came across you, Nesta demanding to know where Azriel was, Cassian puzzled as he claimed Azriel had come home hours before. And that's when you knew he had forgotten. And it hurt.

You shouldn't have been upset. After all, he could have been so tired and just landed in bed immediately, he could have been flooded with paperwork for the mission. Cassian offered to bring you to the House of Wind but y ou waved him off, telling him to enjoy the rest of his night with Nesta and not to worry about you.

You couldn't winnow. But you could do something else. After ensuring that no one could see you, you waved a hand in the air. Drawing precise shapes from memory. A light glowed in your hand, slowly swallowing your arm, then the rest of you. And when you closed your eyes because of how bright it was you felt the atmosphere shift. And with your fingers crossed you opened one eye, then the other, to see yourself standing in the living room of the House of Wind.

Witchcraft.

You had grown up as a witch, travelling across Prythian with your family and friends. That was before Amarantha's rule, before...everything. Before you witnessed you family slaughtered. Before you mustered up so much power you shouldn't even be alive. Before your friends needed to go into hiding. Before everyone thought witches were evil. And it wasn't just you. Bryaxis, was something of an old friend. You were no stranger to the weaver, the bone carver or the suriel. They had all been...friends. And such association with had had cause your kind to be deemed evil.

So you hid your power, you hid your identity. The only people you ever told was the inner circle, save Feyre's two sisters. You weren't comfortable with sharing it with new people, and everyone understood. You had told Nesta vague details, but tears had begun to form in your eyes and she embraced you, telling you that it was alright if you didn't wish to speak of it yet.

The memory made you smile. But once you remembered the situation at hand, it turned into a frown. Reaching out to that mating bond, you grasped it, but there was nothing on the pother side. Though Azriel was your lover, he hadn't experienced the bond for himself yet. You would wait for it to click for him, you didn't want to rush him.

Laughter caught your attention, and the distinct sound of your mate made you freeze as you faced the balcony. There they were. It was clear as day as your mate entered the House of Wind with Elain. Elain. You'd known that they had grown closer, but to leave you with no explanation and spend time with someone else. You blanched.

Azriel's eyes found yours and as they trailed down to your dress, the colour drained from his face. He truly had forgotten. Not for any rhyme or reason but because he was busy with someone else. Your vision began to blur, but you swallowed as you asked him one thing.

"Why?" It was so soft, you couldn't recognise your own voice. But Azriel flinched. You searched for an answer in his eyes but found none as he looked away. You begged him silently for a good reason, a good answer, anything but-

"I guess I just forgot, and she needed me for something important," It was as if he had slapped you. Turning away, tears streamed down your face, and with a wave of your hand a blinding light flashed and you were gone. Azriel left on his knees as he had tried to grab you, to convince you to stay, to let him make up for what he had forgotten, but never once thought about what he had just said, what he had just implied.

~*~*~*~*~

"He didn't!" Mor gasped. You nodded sadly and Nesta huffed as she sat back in her chair. Feyre was quiet as she stirred her tea. You couldn't imagine how they both felt. On one hand, Elain was their sister, but to even attempt on a man who already had a lover was beyond both of them. Feyre shook her head, in disbelief and disappointment. She exchanged looks with Nesta and cleared her throat.

"Perhaps, we sheltered Elain all her life, but it is no excuse for what she is doing, whether she realises it or not. I will speak to her about the issue at hand, but don't worry, I won't tell her about the bond," You smiled gratefully at the high lady and she excused herself to go to the bathroom. You couldn't help but be envious of the relationship she had. Though you would never want to date the High Lord, you wished that Azriel would care for you as much as Rhys did Feyre.

Sighing, you set your cup down, ready to leave for a meeting with Bryaxus - who was more than overjoyed when you begun to regularly visit him - and then you felt it, it was like your heart was being ripped out of you as you gasped, heaving, coughing. Mor sat up, alarmed, and Nesta moved to hold your back, soothing you. You hacked and watched in horror as blood and what looked like the petals of a flower came spewing out of your mouth.

You knew this disease.

You knew what it would do.

You knew what needed to be done.

"Get Madja," You coughed out to Mor, "Now! I need her now!" Raising your voice, you began to cough up more petals and more blood. Mor instantly winnowed out and was back within a few minutes, Madja hot on her heels as she rushed towards you. Your mind spun as you processed everything. Not this, anything but this, please.

After your coughing fit that scared the wits out of Mor and Nesta, you explained the disease to them. Madja nodded at your every word as she inspected the kind of flowers that you had coughed up.

Red Tulips. Soulmates.

Marigolds. Hurt.

Daffodils. Unrequited Love.

You cursed under your breath. Feyre had just returned and was quickly filled in on the situation. She paled as she took in the flowers, their meanings. Hours of listening to what Elain said flowers represented and now Feyre wish she had forgotten all of it. You started heaving again and Madja made you lean forward as you coughed up more petals into a paper bag.

Unbridled pain roared through the veins of your body as it began to come in paves. Whimpering, you brought your knees to your chest, but the coughing didn't stop. You were in near tears. How could you let this happen? Years of hearing about this disease and you were now victim to it. You couldn't help that your mate was in love with another, but why was this so much worse than the stories? You had seen the events of the disease transpire and it was no where near as bad-

"It's because you and Azriel are mates. In other cases, this only happens between two lovers...never mates. Mates usually have an instant connection, so it's very rare for one half to love another person entirely," Feyre explained. Nesta muttered something about how Tamlin should have gotten this cursed disease, but Feyre then explained that there was a difference between 'love' and 'obsession'. This couldn't be happening. You groaned into your palms, maybe you should go to the bathroom, lest the next thing you know you can't move.

Standing up, you took one step, then another, your vision bagan to tunnel, and you turned back to the sofa. You had to at least get back to a lying down position, but before you could, darkness hugged you like a warm, welcoming blanket.

~*~*~*~*~

Mor yelped as she rushed to keep Y/N from falling. Feyre immediately reaching out to Rhys to get everyone to go to the House of Wind immediately. It was an emergency. Rhys was there with Lucien in a heartbeat. For a second, Mor wondered where Azriel was, when booming beats of wings could be heard. Cassian rushing in, letting out a sigh of relief as he spied that Nesta was safe, Azriel with Elain in his arms entering soon after as he set her down.

Feyre, Mor and Nesta all scowled at the Shadow singer, assuming that it was because of Y/N he nodded at them apologetically. Which in turn made them all exchange enraged looks, Feyre making a mental note to tell Rhys to cut Azriel's hefty salary by at least half. Still a sizeable portion, but maybe he's start thinking about the consequences to his actions.

"We're here because of Y/N," Mor started and Elain scoffed. Feyre and Nesta were taken aback by the rude behaviour. Having enough of so many problems, Nesta spoke up. "Is there a problem, Elain?" Elain rolled her eyes and picked at her nails.

"Y/N is just jealous that Azriel decided that he didn't want to be with her anymore. Besides, there are so many other males for her, why those she have to target Azriel?" Nesta gritted her teeth, ready to yell at her ignorant sister, but decided against it as Mor began to speak.

"Y/N has contracted something called Hanahaki Disease, a disease cause my unrequited love towards another," This made Elain snort, but Mor continued, ignoring her, "Usually there would be time to try several cures, but in this case, it's..." More trailed off, unable to find the words, unable to utter the thing that would confirm her own fears. Feyre continued for her.

"She's dying. Fast. Madja says we have a day at best, hours at worse," The words were almost unheard, Cassian stared at Nesta, the devastation on her face, he glanced to Azriel, the bastard's face remained impassive, but as he reached to his mind, absolute chaos. Pain. Suffering.

Azriel felt paralysed when he heard the words. He might never be able to make up for the mistake he made. The hurt he caused his lover. But, something made him stop.

"You said usually, there would be more time. What's the difference in this case?" The question made Feyre pause. She glanced at her sister and friend but they both looked unsure. Should they tell him? They had sworn not to tell anyone but in a situation like this...

"You are her mate," Nesta softly muttered. So soft, that if it wasn't for everyone's Fae hearing, they would have passed it off as the wind. Elain gasped ion anger, and Azriel fell to his knees. No. It can't be. He mustn't have heard it right. His mate? But as he reached into his soul, he grasped the at the foreign golden thread that was foreign to him all this time, and tugged it hard. Images flooded his mind and he begun to weep.

The shadow singer, hardened by years of battle, war, and torture, begun to weep as he saw an invisible golden thread reach out, and go through the door where his mate probably was. And for the first time in centuries, he understood her. He saw her pain, her memories, her thoughts.

Horrified, he witnessed himself saying those words to her. Telling her that Elain was more important, telling her that another female was more important than his mate. He wanted to know when she found out about the bond, wanted to demand why she never told him, but now wasn't the time. He needed to get to her.

Faster then anyone could stop him, he got to his feet and ran. Tearing through the door and stopped as he saw her. She was so pale, sweat beaded down her forehead as her breaths were laboured. She wasn't even conscious. Shadows sang as they danced around her figure. Not right. Dying. Sick. Disease.

He felt himself being pulled back by Cassian, asking him to calm down, asking him to listen, but he couldn't. He was panicked. He couldn't leave her, not again, he needed her. He couldn't lose her after just finding out. It took both Rhys and Cassian to haul Azriel away, he screamed after his mate, screamed as he prayed, he didn't know to who, but if there was any slight chance that they'd let her wake up, if there was at least one good thing he'd done in all his existence that allowed him this one good thing, he'd bargain with the Gods for a chance to live the rest of his life with his mate. Would bargain away his own life.

He didn't know how long it was until Madja came out with a solemn look. He didn't know how long it was he stood there when she uttered those defining words. "She might not make it," Before she dragged him to the side.

"What is your relationship with Y/N?" She demanded. Azriel's head spun as he tried to recall what happened. "I...it's complicated," Madja paused at seeing the shadow singer falter after 500 years of walking through life without a care in the world. However, the answer he was giving was not going to help her save Y/N.

"Define it shadow singer! Give me details! Let me know what was happening that she became so ill!" She snapped. Azriel flinched. He knew she had every right to be annoyed at him. He was the cause of the illness and he couldn't even think straight, couldn’t even try to save her.

“I hurt her. I hurt her and I shouldn’t have, I stood her up, and then told her another female was more important. I grew distant. And now she’s suffering. Because of me,” He swallowed and Madja nodded. He ran his hand through his hair. Panic danced in his eyes and Madja sighed. This was complicated, never in all her year did she need to treat such a complicated case, even when Illyrians were on the brink of losing their wings. Even when she had to treat battle wounds that would leave the faint hearted in shambles.

She shook her head, turning to leave, voicing only one instruction as she walked out, “Break off whatever relationship you have with that Archeron Sister, and pray that you’re mate will wake,” He nodded and Madja left the shadow singer feeling empty, feeling as if he had nothing left in the world.

~*~*~*~*~

His foot steps felt heavy as he walked to the living room of the House of Wind. He couldn't believe this. All his life, he'd dreamed of meeting his mate. He'd dreamed of living out his life together with her, and now he might not even get to right the wrongs he had made. He might not even get to tell her that he was sorry for hurting her.

"So? What do we need to do?" Mor demanded as he came into view of the rest. He sighed as looked down at his scarred palms, ones who had done harm to thousands and he hadn't regretted it, not once. Until now. His own mate. Maybe karma really did exist. Maybe he shouldn't have been so cruel to so many people.

"I...I have to break up with Elain or she dies tonight," He said shakily. Everyone stared at him. Elain rolled her eyes once more. “What a drama queen. She’s such an attention seeker, right guys?” She looked around but no one seemed to agree. Her eyes seemed to flicker between surprise and resentment. “You guys are stupid, she’s not dying she’s just faking it,” She tried to say but Cassian brought a hand up, stopping her.

“You, dumb brat. You’re sisters have shielded you all their lives and the one time you have an opportunity that you aren’t just an empty headed child, you blow it!” Nesta tried to calm him down but everyone could tell that a part of her agreed with what her mate was saying. Rhysand then chimed in, “A member of my court, one of my closest friends, is dying. And you have the audacity, the gall, to say that she is attention seeking? I don’t care that you are my mate’s sister, but that disrespect will not be tolerated in my court, even so, my mate would agree with me. You have been born and raised sheltered and shielded from a broken world and instead of being thankful, instead of feeling an ounce of appreciation towards the female who saved your damn life, you ruined hers.” Feyre nodded, and as Elain looked around, she realised that no one was siding with her, not even Lucien.

She huffed, enraged by the outcome of this, before strutting out of the house of Wind. Nesta felt disheartened, she had been so protective of Elain that she had now turned into this uncaring monster, it made her feel like she had failed. Her emotions were echoed down the bond and Cassian turned towards her and hugged her, pressing her against him gently. The scene made Azriel feel alone, and so guilty. He could have had that, if he had just opened his damn eyes, if he hadn’t hurt her the way he did.

But now, he didn’t even know if his mate was going to make the end of the day. And he prayed to whatever god there was out there, that he’d get one more shot to make things right.

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Should I make part 2???? Idk T^T Hope you enjoyed <3

PART 2 IS OUT

@aroseinvelaris

If you wanna be tagged: Just ask and remember to specify if you wanna be tagged in just part 2 of this fic, all Azriel fics, any specific character fics/series, or just all my fics in certain fandoms. <3

[acourtofmarvels]

Surprise - Cassian

Warnings: none really, cute fluff. mentions of sex n stuff lol

Word count: 694

"Does it hurt?" I asked sheepishly. I felt so guilty. And a little bit proud of myself, but don't tell Cassian that.

He groaned in response. I could tell he was trying not to blow up on me. I hit him pretty hard.

"I'm sorry, baby." I sat beside him on the bed. I took the ice from his hand and held it onto his head myself. "At least you don't have a concussion."

"At least we know training is working. You got me good." He tried to smile at me but only winced in the process.

"You startled me! I wasn't expecting anyone to be at the house." And I smashed a bottle of wine over his head. It wasn't a small bottle either.

Rhys told me they were gonna be gone all day and most likely wouldn't get back tomorrow. Rhys always informs me when they are on their way home, then I can expect Cassian to come and see me.

"I expect a blowjob after this." Even in pain he's horny and inappropriate. I honestly shouldn't be surprised he said that.

Cassian was... unexpected for me. This thing between us happened one night and never stopped. At some point it was just a fling, then we said we were exclusive. Next thing I know we're all in and dating. 

Our relationship never should have happened. We had a one night stand on a drunken holiday. And the next morning we slept with each other again. Cassian never did relationships. He was a go with the flow kind of guy and always said he never had the time for it.

I was just wanting sex. No strings and the kind that made your legs weak afterwards. Cassian exceeded expectations. We've been friends for so long now and I've heard from other girls I know whom he's slept with, that he's great in bed. Don't tell him this cause it will just boost his massive ego, but he's the best I've ever had.

"I feel like I should get an award for my marvelously teaching. I think I taught you too well." He groaned and layed back on the bed, taking the ice with him. "Cauldron boil me, I can't believe you got the drop on me like that. You're lucky I love you, babe. If any other person had done this to me-"

"You love me?" I blurt out, my eyes wide.

Cassian halts mid-sentence. He looked genuinely confused as if he had no clue what I just questioned. But he said it. I heard it loud and clear. I think my heart nearly stopped beating when he said it. He said he loved me.

"You just said it." I was fighting the urge to smile. Cause what if he didn't mean it? What if the hit had really messed him up. Oh shit did I rattle his brain with that wine bottle?

"I..." He cleared his throat, slowly bringing the ice down from his head to look at me. "Well, damn. I guess I did."

My heart is racing. He didn't deny it, yet. 

"D-did you mean it?" I had to ask. I would give him the way out if he needed it. This was serious for us. I mean, we didn't even want to be in a relationship at first, let alone fall in love.

A small smile crept up on his face. When he nods I feel immediately relieved. I moved over beside him, running my fingers through his hair like I always did. "Say it again." The words nearly came out as a beg.

He moaned and ran a hand down his face. "Come on, sweetheart. Don't make me say it again. It's bad enough that I said it first. That's never happened before." His arrogant tone deserved a slap on the arm from me. But then I couldn't help but climb onto his lap and attack his face with kisses. His body shakes under mine from laughing. 

"On a scale from one to ten how badly does your head really hurt? Because I don't know if you know this about me but, emotional intimacy really turns me on. And you just told me you loved me, and I sure as hell am completely head over heels in love with you. And I think we should have sex right now."

His gaze on me darkens, his hands grip my hips firmly. "Suddenly I feel a whole lot better." 

inspired by The Score by Elle Kennedy

Acotar Masterlist

[azsazz]

Dioxazine

Modern!Rhys x Reader

Summary: While at the art shop looking for the necessary supplies for your first semester of art school, you get a bit distracted by the cocky cashiers intriguing eye color.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,254

Notes: It’s 1am and now it’s Sunday so I’m posting rn so @writingsbychlo can see this when she wakes up. This one’s for you babes! I hope you love it.

P.S. Gosh I just love young, cocky Rhys so much. 😭

_________________________________________

You really should’ve grabbed a basket.

Your arms are stuffed with supplies: sketchbooks, pencils, oil paints, a roll of canvas, anything and everything you could need for the start of your classes in a few days. 

They’d given you a list of all of the tools needed for your first semester at art school and yeah, you could’ve ventured to the nearest chain store, but you thought it’d be better to support the local art supply in town.

That is, until you meet the cashier.

He looks anything but friendly, leant over the expanse of the counter, flipping through a magazine ever so lazily. The boy doesn’t even look up when you drop your supplies down, spilling across the surface with purpose.

“Hello?” you crow when you’ve been standing there for a solid minute while he reads whatever article is next to the full page perfume ad with a half naked model on it. You catch sight of his long fingers rubbing the corner of the pages, separating them from each other so that he can turn to the next.

“Hi,” he responds blankly, like you’ve just run into him and he doesn’t know why you’re speaking to him. Your brows knit together as you stare at him, wondering if he always acts so careless about his job or you’ve just caught him at a bad time.

“I, um…” you trail off, frustrated because all you want to do is purchase your supplies and you’ll be out of his inky black hair. “Can you look at me?”

A muscle twitches in his jaw in annoyance, which is fine because his rudeness is irritating you as well, so at least you have that in common.

Finally, he snaps shut the magazine and looks up at you. His glaring eyes are startling, not because he looks menacing, but you’ve never quite seen a color like that before, bright violet with flecks of a dark hue that reminds you of the stars in the night sky. 

They make you itch to test out your new paints.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he stands to his full height, and holy Gods, he towers over you by at least a whole foot. “Is there something I can help you with?”

You clear your throat, “Yes, actually. If you’re not too busy, that is.” You glance at the magazine, now facedown on the counter.

The side of his mouth quirks in a wicked smirk, “You’ve caught me at a good stopping point.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, muttering something under your breath that only makes him smile wider.

“I’m looking for the umber oil paint but I didn’t see any on the rack.”

“Freshman then?” his teeth are bright in his grin. He rounds the corner of the counter, leading you back the way you came. There aren’t many students milling about the small shop, and as you pass the pen section you have to talk yourself into not purchasing another just for the sake of how pretty it looks.

You make a face at his insinuation. “You can tell that just from my paint selection?”

“Yes and no. No, because umber is a staple color for most painters,” he glances at you over his shoulder as he slows to a stop before the rack of organized paints. He takes his time, giving you a once over that makes you flush and hug your arms across your chest. His smile only grows and you scowl in response. “And yes, because If you weren't a freshman you would’ve asked for a specific one. There’s burnt umber and raw umber.”

He plucks both tubes of paint from the shelf and holds them out to you, “Very different colors.”

“They look the same to me,” you mumble, studying the swatches on the tubes. They’re a few shades off from each other, surely that can’t make that much of a difference.

You definitely don’t take into account how small the tubes look in his large hands, and you’re absolutely not thinking about taking one just to compare the size difference between your hands.

“Trying to decide which one to get?” His question is innocent but the look on his face is anything but.

You flush and the collar of your shirt seems to tighten out of nowhere. “Yes.”

He stares down at you for a moment, making sure that you know he’d given you an out.

“You’re going to need both.”

“I guess I’ll take your word for it, since you seem to know so much about art.”

“That’s why I work at the art store,” he replies bluntly, letting you lead the way back to the register, “Because I know my shit.”

“Well it’s definitely not because of your less than charming personality,” you retort, shocking yourself. You’re usually not so rude to people but there’s just something about this guy that’s getting under your skin. 

All you want to do is go back to your dorm.

“You think I’m charming?”

You scoff, “Absolutely not,” You catch yourself peeking at how well fitting his pants are against the round of his ass as he makes his way back to the register side of the counter. You shake your head, scolding yourself. “Now are you going to ring up my stuff?”

“No, but I will check you out.”

You groan, “That was terrible.”

“Terrible or cute?”

You give him a pointed look, face straight. “Terrible.”

“I can try another,” he says as he finally starts ringing up your art supplies.

“No thank you, just the supplies for me today, thanks,” you try, silently praying that he hurries. You can’t stand the thought of being around him for much longer if he spouts another cheesy line that you know he’s probably used on plenty of girls before. You don’t care how cute he is.

“You know what else these are good for?” He holds up the tube of Dioxazine purple paint, the one that looks like a bottled color of his eyes.

“I really didn’t ask.”

“Finger Painting.”

The retort rolls quickly off your tongue and just as swift to wipe that smile off of his gorgeous face. “Should’ve known that’s what you’re into, since you act like a three year old.”

His eyes glow, taking the card you’re holding out for the transaction. You don’t even care how much the total is, you just want to get the hell out of here.

“Feisty.”

“Just give me the damn receipt,” you’re pretty sure your cheeks look like they’ve been brushed with the cadmium red paint in your bag as you hold out your hand for your card and the thin sheet of paper.

“Yes, ma'am,” he obeys, passing both over to you, sliding your bag of supplies across the counter.

“And don’t call me that.”

“What do you want me to call you? Darling? Or your name, perhaps?”

“No.”

“Any other requests?” he asks cheekily, planting his hands on the counter so he can lean toward it, towering over you.

You take the bag, fully planning on ignoring him in favor of taking a brisk walk towards the door but he’s shuffling around under the counter and trailing after you.

“Yeah, you can stop following me,” you remark, catching sight of the bunched up sweatshirt in his hands. It’s nowhere near cold yet so you don’t understand why he has that on him. Maybe it got cold in the store while he was sitting on his ass doing nothing.

“My shift just ended, Darling.” 

You halt as you step onto the sidewalk. He takes a few steps further, swinging around to face you when he realizes you’ve stopped.

Narrowing your eyes up at him, you say, “Didn’t I just tell you not to call me that?”

“You didn’t tell me your name, so I guess I’ll just have to keep calling you pet names, Darling.”

“(Y/N),” you nearly growl, “My name is (Y/N).”

He repeats your name and you clutch your bag tighter in your hands because you’d never heard it sound quite that lovely coming out of someone's mouth. It gives you goosebumps.

“I’m Rhysand, but you can call me Rhys.”

“I’m honored,” you respond sourly, hating that he’s smiling at your annoyance. “Can I go now?”

You try to step around him but he slides into your path again, blocking your way back to campus.

“You know my friends and I are throwing a party at my place tonight,” he starts, glancing up at the street over your head before returning those piercing eyes on yours. He shrugs.  “You know, before class starts up and all that.”

“Cool.”

He barks out a laugh that licks up your spine in the best way. “That was me inviting you, if that wasn’t clear.”

“It wasn’t,” you say, even though it was.

He cocks his head, grinning crookedly at you, “Don’t be like that.”

You can’t help but to roll your eyes at this cocky boy. You blurt the next question that comes to mind instead of giving him an answer. “Why are you even working here?”

“So I can meet pretty girls like you,” he responds innocently, dark lashes fluttering against his cheeks in an exaggerated manner.

You can’t help but to laugh, shifting your bag to the other arm, “Try again.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up into a wicked curve and your heart definitely doesn’t stutter and you certainly aren’t thinking about breaking out the oil paints you’ve just bought.

“I might work at the art supply store to get a discount on my own supplies,” he starts, “Or I might work at the art supply store so that my father thinks that I can be independent and make a living off becoming an artist instead of taking over the family business.”

And well, you weren’t expecting him to be so open about it. 

Unsure of what to say, you focus on the fact that he said he was also taking classes for art. 

“You’re in art school?”

“I know, the patchwork tattoos make me seem like something much more scholarly,” he grins and you had taken notice of the array of…interesting patchwork tattoos littering the tanned skin of his arms.

“Yeah,” you huff a laugh, “The Mickey Mouse one really screams finance major.”

Rhys’ smile falls, an offended scowl taking over his perfect face. “It’s not just a tattoo of Mickey Mouse,” he protests, turning his arm so the both of you can see the silly tattoo better. “He’s…on drugs, so it’s cool, ya know? An aesthetic if you will.”

You stare at it, then at him, an eyebrow raised. 

He gives in. “Okay…so it was a dare but there’s a good story behind it, I swear! I can tell you more about it on our date.”

“Date? I thought it was a party?”

“So you’re coming?”

You purse your lips, unimpressed. “I didn’t say all that.”

The blaring sounds of a horn cuts off his response, drawing both of your attention to the street. There’s two boys in the front seats of the gorgeous vintage Bronco, painted your favorite color. Your mouth nearly drops at the pristine condition of the car, and then again once you catch sight of the handsome passengers.

The boy driving the car leans over the one in the passenger, “C’mon Rhys, hurry up and get her number or we’re going to do this thing without you!”

The boy in the passenger seat glares at the driver, your cheeks heating up under their stares.

“You heard him,” Rhys says, smiling so wide you’re afraid his cheeks might split open. “Can’t have them thinking I didn’t get your number, right?”

“You didn’t.”

“(Y/N),” he sighs, yielding only a small step when you take one forward. When you don’t say anything he continues, “At least come to the party.”

“No, thanks.”

“Please?”

You exhale an exasperated breath. He just won’t give up. “If I say yes will you get out of my way?”

“Definitely,” he nods his head eagerly.

“Then yes,” you finally relent and he beams, “I will see you there.”

“Sick,” he mutters proudly to himself. He shoves his hand into your bag and you fumble for a second, yelping and straightening the paper sack as he rifles around for something.

Rhys pulls a sharpie out and grabs your arm. You’re so caught off guard that you just watch as he writes his number on your forearm in thick black letters. Your mouth drops open in shock. You’ll have to scrub your skin raw to try and get it off.

He steps back, admiring his work. He caps the marker and tosses it back into your bag, “My number looks good on you, you should consider getting that inked. I have a friend, if you want.”

“Let me guess, he’ll be at the party.”

His grin is shit eating.

Rhys winks, pulling out a can of spray paint from beneath the bunched up fabric of his sweatshirt as he retreats towards the car, and it’s then that you realize he's only brought the jacket so he could take the paint, hiding it in the fabric so no one would see.

He shakes the can in the air for emphasis, swinging a leg up into the backseat of the convertible. The grin on his face is something you'll be thinking about for the rest of the day.

“I'll paint something pretty for ya, (Y/N). See you tonight.”

[lanitalay]

One Day : Chapter 3

azriel x reader

a/n: let me know if you'd like to be on a taglist for this series!

Warningsd: fluff, pining

word count: 1.6k

Masterlist

“You're not going to spend the Summer Solstice with us again?” Azriel had just informed Rhysand he was departing for the Dawn Court, where y/n had been training under Thesan for ten years. “You know I always spend it with y/n, Rhys.” 

“Didn’t she visit recently?” 

“Don’t I spend everyday with you?” Rhys raised an eyebrow at his brother. “You two are adorable, really.”

“Shut up.” Azriel would never admit it to anyone, but he held a small bit of resentment towards Rhys for introducing y/n to Thesan. If he would have known that bringing her to that meeting would have ended up in her moving away he would have never done it- or at least thought twice about it. He loved Rhys and Cassian and Mor and even Amren for the unlikely family that they were. Bound not by blood but by choice. Their lives were so interwoven that meeting y/n was a breath of fresh air. He got to spend most days with her for a year before she left for Dawn. They visit each other frequently enough that the friendship hasn’t faltered in the last decade. 

But Azriel missed her. Spending the holiday with her was nonnegotiable. 

“I have to deliver some things to her anyways.” Rhysand gives him one of those looks “you don’t need to make up excuses Azriel, you miss the female you love that is perfectly understable. What I do not understand is why you insist on keeping her as your friend-”

“Don’t you ever get tired of listening to yourself talk? And I’m not making up excuses. Her friends always give me letters and care packages to give her since your wards don’t allow mail to go in or out of Velaris.”

“Sorry for keeping the city too safe for you-”

“I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Send y/n my love.” 

Once in the Dawn Court Azriel felt infinitely lighter. There was a permanent air of tranquility that the Night Court lacked. He walked a few steps up to the the familiar cottage and knocked three times. “Az!” The pink door swung open and y/n jumped on him, squeezing tight. “I’m so happy you’re here, come in, come in.” Azriel handed her one of the two bags he carried “Bec, Nomi and Fran sent these.” Then he remembered “and Rhys sends his love.” 

Y/n smile widens as she grabs the large bag of goodies. He watched her open them. Most were letters containing updates and gossip about their lives. There were a few care packages, Nomi always sent her cookies, Fran sent books and Bec sent a small portrait of her babe. “I can’t believe how big she’s gotten,” y/n turns the frame around so Azriel can see “I saw her this Spring and I swear she was half this size.” 

“I can’t believe Bec has a baby.” Y/n gasps and tries to push down a chuckle. “She was the wildest of us, now look at her, mated and a mother.”

Azriel did not know what compelled him to say what came out of his mouth but before he could stop himself he was asking “would you ever want that?” 

“What?” 

He reasoned there was no real harm in asking a friend about her desires so he clarified “you know, a mate and a baby, that whole thing.”

“Oh,” she thought about it for a moment. “Yes, I think so. But not now. Well- I don’t even have a mate but with work right now I’m doing so much I’d hate to stop. But in the future, yes.” Azriel muffled the warm relief that flooded his chest at her response. “And you?”

He nodded, “same as you, one day, far into the future.” Y/n smiles as she looks through the books Fran sent. “Do you have food?” He walks towards the kitchen he knows she never fully stocks. How she keeps herself alive on crackers and nut butters he will never understand.

“I don’t like what you are insinuating. I went to the market yesterday.” Azriel opens the icebox and sees some meat and fruits. Then he opens the cupboards and sees a sack of potatoes. “We can actually make something-” knocking on the door interrupts him. 

“Finally,” he hears from the other room “Az, come here.”

“Are you expecting someone?” Y/n opens the door and a male stands on the other side. His hair is light brown, almost blonde. He’s taller than her, but a head shorter than Azriel. He wears glasses and he smiles as he hands y/n a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine. “Az, this is Lenus, my boyfriend” Azriel feels a stab in his gut “Lenus, this is Azriel.”

The boyfriend steps forward and extends his hand to shake Azriel’s. “I’m so glad to finally meet you, y/n has told me many things about you.”

“Oh Az, I hope you don’t mind. But since there is no Summer Solstice party here I thought we might as well celebrate just us three.” Three. He knew he needed to react well, never wanting to do anything to upset you. “Oh of course, I just- I didn’t know you met someone.”

Y/n walked to the kitchen and the two males followed. She opened the bottle of wine and Lenus fetched three glasses. “Thank you honey, we started seeing each other around the time I came back from the Night Court. But we met a few years ago, in one of the libraries.” 

“I’m a scribe,” Lenus explained with a smile. “Oh?” 

“Yes, I had to research an herb that one of the apothecaries wanted to add to a tonic we use frequently and- well you know me I had to double check the information. So I went to the library and Lenus spent the whole day helping me.” Azriel could throw up from the lovey dovey display happening in front of him. In all their years of friendship he had never seen her actually like someone. 

She had dated plenty of people, but nothing ever lasted more than a week or two. More importantly she had never called someone her boyfriend.  

Lenus prepared dinner for them. Azriel had to reluctantly compliment him on the food because it was indeed delicious and whenever he visited y/n in the past, the pickings were slim when it came to eating. He never blamed her or complained about it. She was a healer and cooking was not her priority. 

He hated that this male seemed to be good for her. Knew that was selfish of him. That deep down he wanted to be in his position. His thumb drawing lazy circles on her hand. “So y/n tells me you two actually met on Summer Solstice?”

“Technically we met the day after, but yes. Eleven years of friendship today” Azriel tips his glass towards her and she returns the gesture. “Happy anniversary Az.” 

Lenus looks between them “have you always been just friends?” Azriel lets y/n handle the question. “Well, he’s also been my patient more times than I can count.” 

The male relaxes a bit at her explanation. “Dear, I’m sorry but I must be on my way. There is an auction in the Day Court tomorrow for some ancient texts and I was tasked to go. I’ll come find you when I get back.” The group stands up from the table and walks Lenus to the door. “Thank you for cooking” Azriel shakes his hand and leaves the couple to say their goodbyes in private. 

“So… what do you think?” As much as he wanted to dislike her boyfriend he couldn’t. “He seems great, y/n.”

“Do you mean it?”

“You know I’d never lie to you. Are you happy?”

“It’s still early days, but yes.” That’s all he could ever want for her. “Then I’m happy for you.”

Y/n hugs him. Her scent has never changed, not since that first night. It’s sweet with a hint of citrus. He breathes it in as he hugs her back. “Wanna dance?”

She laughs “here?” Azriel breaks the hug and makes her spin “Summer Solstice tradition.” He pulls her close and they slow dance to imaginary music. “Are you going to stay in this court forever?” 

“No, I’m only waiting on Thesan to find my replacement. I miss the Night Court.”

“It misses you too.” They dance in silence for a few moments before Azriel speaks again. "Will Lenus come with you?"

"We haven't discussed it yet."

“You know, I often wonder what would have happened between us if you had stayed.” 

“I used to wonder too.”

“We had a pretty good date, remember? Before the meeting with Rhysand.” She laughs, probably remembering how much of a nervous wreck he was that day. “It was a nice date, yes. But you know this was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.” 

“I know, and I’m so proud of you.” 

“I think, had I stayed, we would have made it work.” 

“I think so too.” 

She breathes, “I think if we got together that first year it would have been a different story, though.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, I was convinced you were in love with Mor and I never allowed myself to see you as more than a friend until that conversation on the boat, but by then we didn’t know it was too late.” 

“To be fair, I could have been clearer with my intentions.” She laughs, “that’s true. What about you, is there someone back home?” 

Azriel could have lied and said there was someone, maybe a few people he was interested in seeing, but he couldn’t lie to her “I’m a lone wolf these days.”

She pulls away from his chest to look up at his face “are you happy?”

He thinks about it. His existence has been filled with hardships and heartbreak. Scars litter his body. But, in this moment, with her so close he can honestly say “I am.”

[tswaney17]

Accidental Chemistry - Coming Soon!

Summary: Azriel had his whole life figured out. He was the head of his department at work. He had a nice house with his own space. He could pick up any woman he wanted for a good fuck before moving on. He didn’t need commitment—didn’t want it. But when his brother and sister-in-law ask for a favor, he finds his whole life turning upside down in the blink of an eye. All because of his new roommate: recently divorced Elain Archeron.

And her three-month-old son.

~~~~~

I'm very excited to announce an upcoming fic, Accidental Chemistry. I have to give all my love to @duskwhisperer for sending me this idea and letting me run with it. Thank you, babes! 💕 I'm working on building out parts right now and don't have an official launch date, but I couldn't not use @elriel-month to announce this new project. Can't wait to share it with you! And to tide you over, here's a little bit of a sneak peek at chapter 1. 💜💙💚

Feyre sighed, sitting forward in her seat like she needed the strength to speak. “Az, we—or I—need to ask a favor of you.”

Ah, finally. The reason they invited him over for dinner tonight. He indicated for her to go ahead with a wave of his brutally scarred hand.

She took a deep breath, settling her nerves. “I was wondering if Elain could move in with you, into the loft you renovated over your garage? Until she’s back on her feet, at least.”

His brows shot into his hairline. Frankly, out of all the favors she could’ve asked him for, that was not even one that crossed his mind. Before he could get out a word in edgewise, Feyre barreled on.

“I know it’s inconvenient for you and that it’s totally inappropriate for me to ask you of this, but Elain has so much going on right now and her husband is taking advantage of the situation, and she has nowhere else to go, and I—”

“Feyre,” he interrupted her run-on sentence. “It’s okay. She can stay with me.”

Silver lined those blue-gray eyes that made him suspicious that other hands were at play here. Had her husband been abusive? Feyre’s relief that he agreed to allow her sister to live with him seemed…so out of place, he supposed.

“Thank you, Azriel. Truly. She’s going to be so relieved.”

This could be good for him. Once Elain was back on her feet and at a good point in her life again, there would be no harm in trying to pursue her, right? Obviously, he’d never take advantage of her, especially when she was in a vulnerable position after her divorce, but if she showed interest, there wasn’t any reason he couldn’t ask her out.

Right?

Rhys subtly nudged his wife, though it did not go unnoticed by him.

“There is one more thing.”

That had his stomach tightening in knots. Now what? After a beat, he finally said, “Well, spit it out Feyre. Don’t leave me hanging in suspense.”

“She has a son.”

All thoughts emptied from his head. “What?” he asked in confusion.

Her hands folded together as she leaned her forearms on the table. “Elain? She has a three-month-old son.”

~~~~~

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[rlyc00l]

Zer0 is an understimulated house cat (and a spiteful one, at that), Angel is a babysitter calmly reasoning with a difficult child, Rhys is really good at his job (kind of), and Hyperion weaponry is like, stupidly dangerous.

Also under the cut:

The Dahl commando stomped around the ship, shoeless and sighing angrily. “Where the hell are you, Zer0? I just want to talk.”

Zer0 sat on the wheelhouse’s roof, watching him. His boots they had tied together and hung from the side of the boat–after soaking them in water, naturally. Undeployed, his beloved turret was a small box with a strap on it. They hung that from the boat’s antenna. In their experience, no one ever looked up. 

The only one helping the commando was the Hyperion, who was quick to offer up Zer0 as the explanation for why his stuff was scattered around the cabin and his boots and turret missing. He’d even pretended to find the knife they’d given him. It had been a disappointment, but at least the brief panic they’d gotten out of him with the stolen knife was funny. 

Dahl-guy stepped into a puddle as he passed the wheelhouse again. He sucked in air through his teeth. “I swear, I’m going to kill them.” That almost sounded like a challenge. For the second time, Zer0 considered the merits of taking his head. He was well-trained, it might be an interesting fight. And he thought far too much of himself for a guy who called his turret “babe” and wore a tacky wedding ring around his neck. He probably deserved to die. 

The problem was, if they killed him, they’d have to fight the others, and the siren presented a complication there. They had yet to work out the limitations of her power, and, as much as it frustrated them to admit, if she caught them in her phaselock, they were dead. Instead, they had to settle for the lesser entertainment of making him mad. 

The turret took twenty minutes to find. It was the ECHOeye that did it, they doubted the Hyperion probably knew what he was looking for before that device highlighted it. “That’s your turret, right?” The stooge asked, pointing. Goddamn killjoy. 

Dahl’s eyes followed his finger. He sighed heavily. “Yup, that’s it.” 

Zer0 cloaked as he climbed up past them, muttering to himself. He was slightly too short to reach the turret. but he drew his rifle, managing to hook it on the barrel after a couple attempts. They should have hidden his storage deck unit, too. 

The shoes took longer to find. “They wouldn’t have thrown them overboard, would they?” The Hyperion ventured, eventually. 

Zer0 had considered it, but that lacked finesse. Their way was funnier. 

“Shit, I hope not.” The commando peered over the side of the boat, and followed the edge, until he found them. “Are you goddamn kidding me?! Zer0, I’m finding you next!” 

“Can you keep it down?” the Siren called from her spot, not looking up from her book. 

“Oh! Maya, you can’t like, help me out with your powers?” Dahl asked, approaching and holding up his ice-crusted boots. She glanced up. “What exactly am I supposed to do with those?” 

“You know, do your siren magic thing, and uh, thaw them out and dry them?” 

“I can temporarily send your shoes to an alternate dimension, but I fail to see how that’ll help you. Sorry.” She returned to her reading.  

The commando spent much of the rest of the ride trying to melt and towel dry the ice from his boots. It was cold enough that this was futile. When the boat touched the icy shore, Zer0 was tempted to stick around, watch the man suffer in his frozen boots, but they had a CEO to kill and a Vault to open. They left their perch and leapt from the deck with only a “Bye,” to the others.

It was a little past midday, which didn’t give them much time to travel before dark. The days were short, this time of the Pandoran year. They weren’t sure where to find Jack or the Vault, but a Hyperion outpost would be where to find out. Hyperion seemed to have the most success installing its operations in the west: The Friendship Gulag, Lynchwood, Opportunity, the Hyperion Preserve… 

The only path from the shore was a ravine through the cliffs that lined the beach. Bullymong holes were clustered on both sides. Zer0 cloaked as they passed through, leaving their silent hologram at the end. It was difficult to care about fighting bullymong when there were much bigger targets ahead of them.  

“You should really stick with the others.” The AI girl spoke again as they came out into an open area. Ahead of them was a great fish-like skull and a Catch-a-Ride station. Here and there, other giant bones stuck out of the ground. 

“I do not need them. / Tell me, how do I reach Jack? / I wish to kill him.” They made a bee-line to the Catch-A-Ride. A vehicle was just what they needed. 

“Like I said, the Crimson Raiders–in Sanctuary–can help you.” “Are you useless, then?” 

“No, I can help you too, but not alone.” There was a tinge of frustration in her voice. 

“Aid would be useful. / But it’s not necessary. / I’ll find my own way.” “Good luck with that.” 

A buzzaxe was embedded in the Catch-A-Ride console’s screen, rendering it unusable. Did Pandora’s bandits follow no code? These machines should be off-limits, bandits needed vehicles as much as anyone else. 

“Can you make it work? / You accessed the drop barge before. / Digistruct a car.”

“It…It’s too damaged,” she said. “Again, seriously, wait for the others. This planet is dangerous. You’ll want their help.” 

“If working alone, / Is a more challenging feat, / That is what I’ll do.” From what time they’ve spent on Pandora so far, Catch-a-Rides seemed as ubiquitous as fast-food chains were on inner planets. They’d find another. They continued their trek, crossing a rickety bridge made from scrap metal, and entering a second ravine, this one longer and narrower. The opening at the top was so narrow that it was dark inside, almost a cave. There were so many bullymong inside they had no choice but to fight a few packs before they made it through. It set them back another hour. The sun was getting low.

Three Horns Divide proper was a more developed landscape than the Southern Shelf. Dahl had left behind pumps and power lines and surprisingly functional roads that split into several directions. Not far from the ravine’s end, they passed a little cluster of raised buildings turned into a bandit encampment. 

For a few seconds, the ground shook–a small earthquake that shifted the snow on the towering crags and upset a nearby bullymong nest. A regional announcement on their ECHO device followed: “Handsome Jack here, reminding you all not to worry your pretty little heads about those earthquakes. See, with every tremor, my drills get closer to the Vault–to freedom, order, and safety for us all! Except you asshats in Sanctuary.”

That made things easier. If they figured out where the drilling was coming from, they’d find the Vault. Then they could lure Jack out. 

“You could at least stop in Sanctuary, they need a hero.” The AI said. 

They had thought she’d given up. “If you will not help. / Can I shut you up somehow? / Some admin command?” “No, I’m going to continue to bother you until you either work with me or die.” She sounded equally unhappy about this. 

The light was dim when they came to the next Catch-a-Ride. This one, at least, appeared functional. They activated it, only for the words “ACCESS DENIED” to flash on the screen. “Whoa, unauthorized user up in my grill!” a man’s voice played through the machine’s speaker. 

“You can be useful. / This, you can hack for me, right? / So, get me a ride.” 

No response for a long moment, then: “I can’t access that remotely.” She almost sounded pleased with herself. “But you know, I believe a member of your former party is in possession of an ECHOeye. Maybe you should join him in Sanctuary.” 

“Are all of these locked?” 

“Probably. Scooter–the man in charge of them–rigged them to keep bandits from using them. He’s also in Sanctuary. He’ll only authorize you if you join the Raiders.” 

They considered this. The Hyperion stooge wasn’t a skilled enough combatant to diminish their feats. They could take him with him to the Hyperion bases, make him hack their intel for them. In return, they’d keep him safe and alive–the others would certainly fail in that respect. 

“...Fine,” Zer0 said. “I’ll go there.” 

“Great. Would you like me to mark a route on your ECHO device?” 

They’d never heard an AI sound so smug.

———

Rhys had let himself hope that when they touched shore after a fifteen-hour boat ride, they’d be somewhere different from Windshear Waste. Somewhere that wasn’t just ice and bullymongs and bandits. Three Horns Divide was Windshear Waste with more random giant bones sticking out of the ice.  

At least Claptrap was so convinced the Sanctuary locals wanted to throw him a “Welcome Back” surprise party that he stayed behind to give them time to prepare. And even better, Zer0 had left. If anyone was going to catch him doing anything suspicious, it was the sneaky weirdo who popped out of nowhere and seemed to relish in causing problems. 

They could have at least done the group the favor of clearing out the bullymong as they passed ahead of them, but the way to Sanctuary was an endless battle against giant, freaky ape monsters, many of which threw chunks of ice the size of cinderblocks. Rhys felt like he was getting pretty good at dodging by the time Sanctuary’s outer wall was in sight. Beyond it, the city glowed against the darkening sky. 

As they approached, a comm came to Axton’s ECHOdevice. “So you're the ones I've been hearing all this radio chatter about? The Vault hunters Jack tried to kill?” a man’s voice spoke. “Name's Roland–Commander of the Crimson Raiders. That you who our lookout’s spotted, coming up on Sanctuary’s gate?”

“Yeah, that would be us,” Axton responded. 

“Great! I’ll ECHO Lieutenant Davis to let you in. Welcome to the Crimson Raid–” The sounds of yelling and gunfire on his end interrupted him. “Ah, dammit. I’m being attacked, I’ll see–” The comm ended. 

“Huh, that sounds…Bad?” Gaige said.

“Are you kidding? I think that’s just normal here,” Rhys pointed out. “He’s probably got…Guys with him? Soldiers?” Getting the Raiders’ commander out of the picture so soon seemed too good to be true. 

Outside the gate was a little cluster of elevated buildings, seemingly once built for a Dahl settlement, now with all the telltale signs of bandit activity. Graffiti, pelts, bullet holes… A large sign for Sanctuary loomed above it. Right, Rhys reminded himself, he’d have to get used to skull bouquets and corpses staked to walls. 

The gate had an intercom next to it, Maya took the initiative to press the button. “Hey, uh–”

“You’re never getting into Sanctuary, you Bloodshot skaglicks!” A man’s voice responded. A hologram of the speaker appeared over the intercom, a man wearing old Crimson Lance armor. “Oh! Hold up. You’re those Vault hunters! Hurry and get inside!” The heavy gate opened slowly. Ahead was more road, a bridge crossing over a deep gorge–at some point the middle had caved in and been replaced by scrap metal–and, behind a second wall, the city of Sanctuary. Around that wall circled small, vertical structures, next to which the air seemed to glow and distort–the perimeter of a massive shield.

“They’ve got a shield generator right before you get through the gate,” he heard Handsome Jack in his head again. “Why don’t you see if you can hack it? Don’t worry, you should be far enough out of the city that our bombardment won’t hit you. Probably.” 

It was difficult to walk and enter a response, especially while terrified of pissing off Jack, but Rhys managed. He just hoped he made it look natural. “I’d need to get close and my eye glows when I use it–it’ll be hard to do without getting caught. I’ll have to find the right moment.” He braced himself for Jack’s reply–you weren’t supposed to say anything resembling “No” to the man.

“Fair enough,” Jack said. “You know what? I’ll work on a solution for you.” 

“Fantastic! Thanks! I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t.” 

As he communicated with Jack, the group made it to the gate, where another armored soldier awaited them. Rhys caught the end of the exchange he had with Maya, “Commander Roland’s ECHO went offline. He left orders for this contingency–make yourself useful, go meet with the town mechanic.” 

“Crap. I mean, uh... darn.” It was the AI’s voice, now. “Roland needs your help. Without you, the Crimson Raiders don't stand a chance against Jack. Please find out where he's gone.”

Past the gate, Sanctuary didn’t seem as savage as Rhys had pictured, or as Hyperion propaganda had promised. That shouldn’t have surprised him, being in Security Propaganda and all, but the bandits had lived up to the hype. 

It wasn’t a nice place, by any means. The road was crumbling, graffiti covered the walls, and trash was everywhere. Not a great first impression, but no skulls in sight.

“So, the mechanic…” Maya started, looking around. “He didn’t give us a map, but-” 

“It’s right there.” Axton gestured to the building in front of them. 

 “Oh.” She seemed uncharacteristically sheepish. “Was that obvious?” 

“Yeah,” Salvador said. 

“There’s a tire. And a garage,” Gaige put in. 

“Of course.” 

“Scraping your innards out from the rock they crushed you with!” Krieg said. It almost sounded like he meant to reassure her, in a weird way. 

They found the mechanic dozing off with his chair leaned back, feet propped on a stack of oversized tires. A wrench still hung in one hand. He was exactly the sort of dirty, grease-stained guy Rhys would have pictured, considering the location and profession. 

He woke as they entered, looking up, blinking. His mouth fell open as he saw them. “Oh, crap, is you Hyperion? Now, if you're here to kill me, you should probably know–” He leapt onto the tire stack, wielding his wrench. “You'll never take me alive, you robotic sons of–” “Woah, hold on.” Rhys put his hands up. “I’m not Hyperion. Anymore. I’m on your side?” Did he still look that Hyperion? He shouldn’t have emulated Jack’s style quite so hard. Maybe he needed a haircut. 

The mechanic scowled, not lowering the wrench. He was looking at Maya, not Rhys. 

“We’re all on your side,” Maya said calmly. “You’re Scooter, I presume? Roland’s missing. Lieutenant Jessup told us to see you about a contingency plan?”  He relaxed, grinning as he climbed off the tires. “Ha! Well, hang me upside down from a telephone pole, cover me in honey, and leave me to a slow death at the hands of hungry spiderants. You’re those new Vault hunters, ain’tcha?”  “So it seems,” she said. “So Roland’s gone missin’, huh?” He paused, considering. “He told me if he ever disappeared, I was supposed to initiate Plan B—or, as I like to call it, Plan Turn-this-city-into-a-floatin'-ass-fortress-of-airborne-awesomeness.” He shuffled around the garage, grabbing three small fuel cells and balancing them on top of each other against his chest. “Y’all wanna help me get these to the center of town?”

Damn, Rhys hadn’t expected much from the Crimson Raiders, but this was far below his least charitable assumptions. Just up and trusting people at their word? No wonder Jack was winning so thoroughly.

Plan B itself worried him. Sanctuary, he’d read back on the boat, was indeed once a Dahl mining ship—hundreds of years ago. Trying to get it airborne again seemed to border on suicidal. Still, against his better judgment, he soon found himself at the town square, bent over an ancient ignition primer and installing an off-brand fuel cell. He kept his metal hand on it as much as he could, lest it started leaking acid. Maya stood over him, holding a flashlight so he could see what he was doing. There were three primers in total. Gaige and Sal worked together at one, Axton and Scooter on the other. Krieg wasn’t to be trusted either to install a cell or hold a flashlight steady—instead, he was alternating between staring at Maya and smacking himself in the head.

“Roland said we gotta have an exit strategery just in case he ever disappeared,” Scooter explained from the next ignition primer over.

“He seriously thinks you can get this ship running again?” Rhys asked, trying to sound genuinely interested. Jack would want to hear this. “Ha! Course I can get ‘er in the air! Just…” He struggled to close the ignition primer’s door and slammed his wrench into it. “Coulda used more time on it.” With all the ignition primers plugged in, the ship's central structure began to glow, emitting intermittent humming sounds. For a second, Rhys almost believed it would get off the ground. Then it shut down with a sad groan and a puff of smoke. “Damn. Well, now we really gotta find Roland. I think he mighta left a message for your types in the Archives.” 

Sanctuary’s City Archives faced town square, not far from the primers. A soldier guarded its door, using a key to let them inside. It seemed to be one of the older buildings, maybe at one point it could have been called “classic”. Now it was a dilapidated mess. Inside, the place was made up of various heaps of stuff: papers and boxes and trash and books. The wall was lined with bunk beds and lockers, like the worst hostel Rhys could imagine. Hanging over the room was a banner: “FIGHT BACK! JOIN THE RESISTANCE”. All lit by dim, bare lightbulbs. It wasn’t skull bouquets, but it wasn’t much better. He almost didn’t notice the woman there. She darted away into the corner when she saw them, then acted like she’d never noticed them. 

“Uh, hi?” Rhys greeted. At least she wasn’t brandishing weapons. 

She looked at him with so much disgust he checked to make sure his shirt wasn’t caked in bullymong guts. Without taking her eyes off him, she lifted her ECHO to her mouth and spoke in hushed tones. “Roland, when you return, we must discuss who you allow into the Archives. It is only a matter of time before I bite someone—and mind you, it won’t be my fault.” 

Right, that tracked, Pandora... 

“Sorry to bother you,” Maya asked, disregarding the woman’s extremely direct, indirect warning. “But we were told Roland left a message here. Where would that be?” The woman’s eyes widened when she saw her. “Disregard that, Roland.” She marched straight up to Maya and plucked out a strand of blue hair before the siren could react. “Roland’s ECHO recording is around here somewhere, but first, if I could make a cast of your teeth…” 

Surreptitiously, Rhys scanned the room, facing away from the others. Finding an ECHO recording with his eye was easy, and soon enough his eye highlighted the only one in the room, sticking out from under a pile of recruitment posters. He downloaded a copy of its contents, then corrupted the original. 

He played the original to himself. “Hey, soldier. If you're hearing this, I'm in trouble. Right now, you're the only thing standing between this city—hell, the whole planet—and Handsome Jack's army. I left info about my last whereabouts in my safe. Good luck.” A code was attached to the message: 9-1-8-0-1-2. It wasn’t useful information for Jack, but hiding it might keep Roland from ever being located. A moment later, Axton found the original recording. Rhys’s hack hadn’t destroyed everything, fragments of audio remained. “...If you're….  Right now, you're the...be-be-be-between this city - hell….army. I left in-in-… luck.” 

Axton frowned. “Uh. Did he have a copy of this?” he asked the strange woman. 

She gave a shrug, too focused on studying Maya’s tattoos. She looked simultaneously repulsed and fascinated. 

Silently, Rhys celebrated. If he kept this up, Jack would have to notice his initiative. See his value. “Never could have done it without you, Mr. Strongfork. You basically single-handedly killed the commander of the Crimson Raiders with that masterful hack,” his imagined Jack saying, shaking his hand at some sort of fancy party he figured the Hyperion bigwigs would have, once they conquered Pandora. 

“Well, shit, what do we do now?” Salvador asked. 

Maya shrugged, pulling her arm back. “If someone’s captured Roland, they’re not gonna stay quiet about it–I imagine Jack is the type to brag?” She looked at Rhys, as if he were an expert on what Jack would do. 

“Probably, yeah,” he said. Which he thought was true. 

“We can keep looking, ask the locals, monitor the ECHOnet. Something’s bound to turn up.” She ventured. “For now, I think we could all use some rest. Tomorrow, we can resupply and begin searching.” 

———

It appeared the beds in the Archives were going unused, so the Vault hunters claimed them for the night. The beds were musty and questionable, but they almost seemed inviting after a freezing boat ride then a long, also freezing, trek. There were laundry machines here too, Rhys had no change of clothes—which was getting grosser by the day, he needed to get some money and go shopping—but he at least threw the bandit jacket in, and, after some hesitation, his vest. It was dry clean only, but it seemed pretty doomed, regardless.

He reported to Jack as he started the cycle. “Their commander’s missing. They want to get Sanctuary flying again. It doesn’t seem to be working,” he wrote. “I hacked a message the commander left about his last location, I think it should slow them down.” 

“Wait, wait, they want the city to fly?” Jack laughed in his head. “What is flying supposed to do?” 

He hadn’t thought about that. “That’s unclear. They seem to think it’s going to do something.” “Well, it’ll kill them faster once the lunar bombardment takes out their engines. I’ll give them that.” Another laugh. “Speaking of, I got an update for you. You’ll be able to switch your eye’s glow off and on now. Keep it on sometimes, good misdirection.” After a few seconds, his ECHOeye received the update. He waited for it to load, then gave his eye a few tries in front of a mirror, just in case. It worked just how Jack said it would. 

“You ready to try the shield generator?”

“Of course.” He wasn’t, he wanted to go to bed. If this worked, he didn’t know when he’d next get the chance to rest. And there was the matter of the Vault hunters. He needed to shove that into the part of his brain furthest from his conscience. Rhys was good at compartmentalizing. He’d screwed plenty of people over before, the Vault hunters were no different from any other coworker he’d backstabbed. The sooner he got it over with, the less bad he’d feel. 

Don’t think about it too hard. 

Do not think about it.  

“See if you can disable their Fast-Travel afterward,” Jack added. “I’d like to get this done all at once. No loose ends, ya get me?”

The other Vault hunters had already gone out to explore the city before settling in for the night, there was no one to question him doing the same. 

Sanctuary had little in the way of bright street lights, and the locals took on a sinister appearance in the dimly lit streets. Most of them, he noticed, had some weapon or other strapped to them. Rhys held onto his collapsed stun baton as he walked. In theory, it would drain a shield better than either of his guns. Thankfully, he walked through the streets and out the city gate unbothered. 

The shield generator was on a raised concrete platform, attached to a building. He climbed the short stairs to it and met face-to-helmet with a Crimson Raider. Of course there’d be a guard. 

“What are you doing here?” The guard demanded.

Rhys scrambled for an explanation. “Sorry, uh, I was—” 

“Oh! I recognize you! You’re one of the ones Jack tried to kill, aren’t you?” His tone became reverent. Like Rhys was some kind of badass. “The new Vault hunters?” 

“Yup, that’s me!” He tried to look proud of it. His heart was pounding. 

“Huh! So, what are you doing out here so late?” 

“Oh, you know, I-I-just getting my bearings. I wanna be prepared if Jack attacks the city, y’know?” He took a deep breath as he looked around, pretending to take in his surroundings. “Sooo…This is the shield generator, huh? Nice piece of tech.” 

“Yup, keeps this whole city protected.” 

“So do you, then, right?” He flashed what he hoped was a charming smile. “This uh, this has to be the first thing they’d target, and you’re the one protecting it.” With what he hoped was a subtle glance, he scanned the generator. His ECHOeye told him it was of Dahl make, but nothing else. 

“You’d think so, but Jack’s given up on attacking us head-on, and it's been a while since bandits made it over the bridge.” Even as he said it, the soldier stood up a little straighter. 

It was old tech, unconnected to a network. Keeping the shield running was a simple matter of plugging the core in and throwing some switches that would be in the building. The best Rhys could do was shut it off until someone hit the switch again. That wasn’t worth risking his life. 

“Hey, still, gotta-you gotta stay vigilant. Can’t be easy, out in the cold all day-or, night.” Rhys went in for a wildly uncharacteristic slap on the shoulder—it seemed like the kind of thing you did with soldiers who inexplicably respected you. “Keep-keep at it.”  

He tried to walk away at a normal pace, and only exhaled again when he was out of earshot. Well, that was a bust. At least he could get some sleep. 

“Can’t hack it. But, good news, they only have the one guard on it?” he sent to Jack.

“Naw, they have bunkers inside that building. Alarm goes off, there’s about twenty more of ‘em. We tried that already.” 

“Oh.”

“Good try, though, kiddo. You’re gonna be useful yet.” 

Rhys felt a surge of pride, even through the residual anxiety. He was back at that imaginary party. This time it was short-lived—just as he walked through Sanctuary’s gate a hand clamped around his wrist. 

He swung back, and there stood Zer0, giving him an intense, faceless stare. “I-I- um…” Did they know? How could they know? Why were they here? 

“I need something hacked,” Zer0 said. “That AI is unable. / She says to use you.”  He stumbled forward as they began to pull him along after them.

“For the record, that’s not what I said,” the AI put in.

“What?! What the hell, Zer0? Let me go!” Rhys tried to pull away, almost falling as they yanked back. Their grip was steel.

They looked back at him as they walked. “You’re doomed here, you know? / But, if you’re useful to me, / I can protect you.” 

“Sorry, Rhys,” the AI spoke again. “I was trying to convince them to work with everyone, not kidnap you.” 

Shit.“Yeah, um, I’m my own man.” Rhys thrust the stun baton at them, intending to give them a quick, warning shock. He had a split second to realize “Oh wait, crap, that was stupid” before the searing pain hit him. 

Both he and Zer0 were on the ground when he became cognizant of anything other than that pain. He was sore all over, his right arm was twitching, and he’d bitten the side of his mouth hard enough that he tasted blood. 

“That was uncalled for.” Zer0 sat up, rubbing the singed spot on their abdomen. “OW” floated in front of their helmet. They looked at him, and the letters changed to an “XD”. “You managed to shock yourself? / That’s hilarious.” 

“Yeah, well…” He looked at the stun baton lying next to him. Its battery indicator showed it had been completely drained. Good thing he’d been wearing the shield—also drained. 

Zer0 rose, offering a hand. “Let’s go.” 

“You can’t take a hint? After that?” “You just proved my point. / You won’t make it very far. / Accept my offer.” Standing, Rhys stepped back, wondering if he should run before Zer0 resorted to threats. Instead, he drew his pistol. “Stay back.”

They gave him a “:o” and held their hands up. It felt mocking. “I will not hurt you. / I have perhaps been hasty. / But I mean no harm.” 

“You get why I don’t believe that, right?” 

“No.” 

“Seriously? Are you seriously being weird and menacing by accident?” 

They shrugged, letting their hands fall. “I need one thing hacked. / You don’t need to stay, after. / You can come back here.”  “I’m not stupid.” This was probably how Vasquez lured people into an airlocking. 

“Hold on, Rhys, I’ll talk to them,” said the ever-present AI. 

Zer0 was silent, then cocked their head. “Like what?” they said, softly. It took Rhys a moment to realize they were replying to the AI. They crossed their arms, projected a “¬_¬”.  “Why does it matter / To you, that I work with them? / Why so invested? …Hm…I’ll consider it.” 

“You’ll consider what?” he asked. 

“I’ll stay here tonight. / Tomorrow, you will help me. / Maybe I won’t leave.” “Like hell.” He lifted the gun, in case they’d forgotten. “You-you can stay out here.” 

A red “LOL”. “A puffed-up kitten. / I cannot fault your courage. / But really, calm down.” They bent down to pick up his abandoned stun baton and held it out to him. He snatched it without letting the gun fall, and they walked past him, into the city. Of course he didn’t shoot them. 

“Don’t worry,” the AI said. “They may be a di- erm, a jerk, but they’ll cooperate for the moment. I told them about an assassination job on the bounty board. As long as they think it’ll entertain them, they’ll work with us.” “I don���t see why we need them to work with us. Especially if they don’t want to and would rather go around being sinister and condescending.” Not to mention sneaky and occasionally invisible. 

“Trust me, they’ll come in handy.”

[starryhiraeth]

If you’re taking requests for the Taylor’s Version fics, do you think you could do “False God” or “So It Goes” with Rhys?

Rhysand x reader

Warnings?; suggestive hints, dumb teenage shit, alcohol and… Spelling Errors! SHOCKING…not

I hope you like it, tbh, originally, the meaning of the phrase “so it goes” was totally lost on me, but basically it’s means “so is life” “that’s what’s going to happen” “it is what it is” kind of like that 😂



You’d first met Rhysand in a bar, you were 17, as was he, at the time and had taken your older sisters ID to get in, the music was great and the alcohol was lush but…the people…the people were annoying

You didn’t quite realise just how many there was going to be, not to mention you were generally a good girl, it was your first time doing something like this.

You felt like your throat was closing up, you are definitely tipsy and panic started to rise until

“Need some help?”

You turned around to see the most beautiful creature you had ever seen, with deep violet-azure eyes and a devilish grin

It took your a while for you to realise your mouth was agape, you slammed it shut and blush spread across your cheeks

“Uh..uh what?” Your said, trying to act casual

He chuckled and moved closer

“Well even though the drinks here a great, It’s starting to get a little crowded” his breathe smelled of rich whiskey

You hummed and he took your hand, leading you outside

Once out, you felt like you could finally breathe, the cold air greeted you warmly

Ironic

Mystery man was next to you taking in the sight

The bar was in the forest, fairy lights decorated the trees and a streamed flowed on your right.

“Fancy going for a swim, darling?” He gave you that intoxicating grin again, offering you his hand as you took it

Soon enough you were both down in your underwear and splashing around in the water from the stream, until he grabbed turn wrist to stop you winning the water battle, not realising how close he had pulled you.

You breathing became shallow as your noises touched, your lips met in a heat of passion.

(I’ll let you imagine what happened next)

The next time you met Rhysand, you are 20 and you finally learnt his name!

(Good for you babes!)

Though the conversation was an odd one

“Your name darling?”

You told him

“and yours handsome?”

“Rhysand”

“Ha, you have the same name as the prince”

Looking back you wanted to slap yourself

He smirked “I suppose I do, don’t I”

“…”

“…”

“WAIT-”

You hummed and he started to move closer

“Want to go have some fun”

You smiled and took his offered hand, again

What you didn’t know was that “having fun” consisted of breaking into a museum, fucking on the furniture and stealing from various bars, gods you felt so bad but so alive, with Rhysand it felt like all the pieces fell into place, you get lost in the moment.

You certainly weren’t a bad girl, as already mentioned but with Rhysand, you did all kinds of bad things

By the next morning, you are in his black shirt and Rhysand has scratch marks down his back, as your red lipstick covered his gorgeous face.

Over the years you’d definitely done numbers on each other, but hey, who’s counting, seriously through.

You’d break down a little every now and again and date others then of course came meeting his family, biological and not, the death of his biological family, Amarantha, and now.

When Rhysand has returned it truly all fell into place, finally seeing him for the first time in 50 years

It finally hit.

Mate

mate

mate

Prythian was saved by Feyre Archeron, Tamlin’s mate and through her and you, Night and spring were able to reach a peace, at least politically.

And even then, after the war with Hybern, it was always you and Rhys

And EVEN now, with you being high lady and even with being a mother to your son, nyx.

When it’s just Rhys and you, you still get lost in the moment, lipstick is still painted on Rhys’s face, and you’ll always loose yourself becoming bad with your mate and doing mischievous things, almost like you were wild 17 year olds again but so it goes…

[crescenthoax]

a nightmare before Christmas.

🎄or an Annika, Floris, Willa and targtowers Christmas tale🌟

Part one

Part two

Parth three

Summary: Aemond, Daeron, Aegon and Helaena had different things planned for Christmas, but one same fate: their father’s old cabin.

Basically an i’m never gonna love again christmas modern AU because we need to spread some joy on these times and I wanted to write something fun. Mainly centred around Aegon x Female OC.

This is part 1/3. Part 2 coming soon.

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

“Skiing isn't exactly my strong suit, and you guys know it,” a sharply depressed Floris sighs, watching Annika and Helaena packing as if they were going to the space for five months rather than the Targaryen retreat ski cabin in Aspen. “I thought we agreed that this year would be just the three of us for Christmas. No parties, just peace and quiet.”

“And that's why it's a perfect plan,” Helaena reminds her, with an ear-to-ear smile, something quite uncharacteristic of her occasionally too melancholic personality. Helaena flops down beside her on the bed. “I know you're sad about Aemond, but there's no reason for you to shut yourself in during the holidays. If you don't want to go home, then let's go to Aspen for Christmas.”

“Do you remember our trip to Aspen for graduation?” Annika intervenes. Floris shakes her head; everything was very blurry. “Exactly! And we had fake IDs that weren't accepted at three out of five places. Now it's all legal, babe. Plus, I'm tired of getaways to big cities. I want peace and wildness at the same time.”

“Odd,” Helaena deduces. “What Annika means is that we're going to have a good time. We'll have hot chocolate and all those Christmas things without necessarily the suffocating party Annika's father organizes every forsaken year. By the way, what did you tell him to not go home this year?”

She looks at her nails disinterestedly while appearing thoughtful. “They're busy with the baby, you know. And I think Rhys will go this year, so they won't really miss me much.”

“You usually like going home for the holidays,” Floris insists, knowing that since the moment Annika suggested they stay in the United States instead of going back to London, something must have happened. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, of course. I just don't want to go back this year. You don't want to run into Aemond, Helaena wants to create new traditions, and I want to drink until I lose consciousness and have a sugar high from eating so many s'mores. Whatever happens first.”

Helaena and Floris exchange a glance that she doesn't overlook. “But you haven't wanted to go home since your birthday.”

“Oh, there are just too many ghosts,” she quickly lies. “You know, with my mother's death and all.”

Her father remarrying didn't really affect Annika. Or at least, she never let it show much. Helaena and Floris know when she uses her mother's death as an excuse and to take advantage of people; she always did, and she always will. No one questions a girl's grief for her mother. Annika knows it well.

And they know it's her way of dealing with the situation, even though she doesn't talk about it. So, they let her be. Whatever it is, she'll say it in her own time.

“If you say so...”

“This will be something good,” Annika repeats. “A girls' Christmas. Just us three. No families, no responsibilities, no men. Just us.”

* 🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

Willa wrinkles her nose, watching as Daeron struggles to close the door of the huge truck, bags strategically positioned as if it were a game of Tetris.

“I can't believe you convinced me to do this,” she says, a grimace of both distress and regret forming on her face. “I mean, are you sure no one from your family will notice you're not at the boarding school?”

He laughs. “My mother has three more children, and my father has even more children and grandchildren to fill that void. Trust me when I tell you they won't notice that I'm gone. We'll show up for New Year's Eve, I'll introduce you to them, and they won't even remember that we didn't spend Christmas with them.”

“I don't like that plan,” she admits. Daeron finally manages to close the truck after much effort and lets out a grunt. He shakes his hands, then gives Willa a kiss on the forehead.

“Believe me, you'll be more than glad to miss Mr. Lannister's Christmas party. They're basically the land where time stands still, and a vortex opens up and sucks out all your energy,” he explains. “I had the best Christmas of my life last year with your family than any Christmas I've had before.”

She squirms uncomfortably. “Sometimes you make me think you hate your family, Daeron. And I get it, but you can't... I'm sure they love you a lot.”

“I know they do. But, as I told you, Christmas is not really important, and I want to spend it with you. I want us to have a good time before I take you to my family on New Year's and you run in the other direction.”

“If we survived that weekend at your older brother's apartment...”

Daeron shudders as if just the thought of it produces secondhand embarrassment. “Don't remind me. I don't know how to apologize for that. The good news is you won't have to see him again, ever.”

He opens the door for Willa to get in and doesn't wait for a response as he goes around the truck to get into the passenger seat, leaving her with the words on her lips.

“If it helps, I didn't dislike your brother,” she says. “Is he not spending New Year's at your house with all of us?”

“I don't think so. The last time I was home, he was acting too strange. I mean, stranger than usual,” he explains, eyes fixed on the road.

“When was it? Spring?”

“I think so. Yes, yes. I remember because my mother was furious with him for not showing up to Floris's birthday dinner, you know, my brother Aemond's girlfriend. He didn't even go to the party afterward, and he never misses a party.”

“Did he say why?”

“No, he didn't really say anything. I asked Helaena, and she told me Aegon had been in New York a few weeks before but never dropped by to visit her. Aemond thinks he's doing drugs,” he says calmly, then opens his eyes when Willa looks at him horrified. “Oh, no, he's not a drug addict. He’s just the occasionally drunk, harmless brother. His life is not in danger. Aegon has always been like this. He'll be back when he gets over it.”

She scratches her neck, uncomfortable. “The holidays can be triggers for many people, you know?”

“I'm sure Aegon is at a resort in Miami Beach, passed out with a piña colada in his hand and some girl tangled in his sheets as we speak. He's living his best life,” he downplays. “You'll see. Everything will be fine. Plus, we'll get to enjoy some time alone. Don't you like the idea?”

Willa sighs, resigned.

“If I had a family as big as yours...”

“You are my family now,” he finally drops, like a bucket of ice-cold water running down her back and leaving her breathless for a moment. “It's just you and me. And I prefer it very much this way.”

* 🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

Aegon groans as he feels a boiling sensation behind his throat, and his mouth automatically fills with saliva, anticipating the vomit that he will never let out. He straightens up quickly, holding his breath to calm his body while everything spins around him.

When he finally makes sense of what's happening, he realizes he has fainted in the kitchen. He leans his back against the wooden shelf, just like when he was little and used to hide while playing with his brothers and nephews and the rest of his family.

He hears footsteps entering the kitchen, echoing on the tiles, but he doesn't bother to lift his gaze; he already knows who it is.

“I didn't expect you to be up so early.”

“Brother,” Aegon grumbles again, getting up from the floor with so much difficulty that sometimes it seems like his youth is just a memory. He looks around confused. “Where’s Melody?”

“You mean Mallory,” he corrects. “Well, she came home with you. I think you guys did it on the couch and the kitchen floor. And she left early.”

Aegon smiles, the memories of the previous night a bit clearer. “Oh, right. And her friend? What was her name? God, I don't think we should go back to that place ever again. Although I don't think they'll let us in.”

“She slept in my bed and left with Mallory early in the morning. I called someone to clean up this mess you left, mess you cannot make again because it’s fucking December 23th and no one will ever come to clean your shit up on Christmas. Now, we have to go to the city, so I suggest you change and dress decently.”

Aegon cracks all the joints in his body without understanding his younger brother's bad mood. He has done everything to get him through his breakup; he took him to the best clubs all over Europe, to Las Vegas, and even agreed to accompany him to an independent film Aemond wanted to watch, consuming large amounts of Adderall to stay awake out of boredom.

No one knows what happened between Floris and Aemond. They were a strange but simple pair; both middle children, introverted, and constantly trying to overachieve. The pride of their families, with a perfect life. Their love was born in the sandbox when they were both children, all the way through high school and what they've made of college, and everyone thought they would continue like that, getting married and having children. After all sandbox love never really dies.

Apparently, everyone was wrong.

In other circumstances, Aegon would have simply called Helaena and asked if she knew exactly what happened; what was so terrible that had Aemond so tense and more unbearably suffocating than usual, but...

“Why do we have to go downtown?” Aegon asks as Aemond hurries to make coffee. The sound of the machine drills into his head; he’s pretty sure his hangover has hangover at this point.

“Because, Aegon, your little girlfriend stole Mom's crystal reindeer,” he mutters with annoyance. “I can't believe you brought me here to fuck any girl stupid enough to fall for your charms and brought her back home completely unconscious. What if I hadn't been here?”

“I think I can take care of myself, Aemond. I've been alive for twenty-four years without your help,” the older one mutters with annoyance. “I brought you here so you could fuck any girl in a miniskirt and forget about your ex-girlfriend. But you're not taking advantage of it.”

Aemond clenches his hands into fists, his knuckles slightly white. “I don't need to fuck anyone to forget about her.”

“What you need is to skip Jason Lannister's insipid party and not go home where the primary topic of conversation will be your relationship with Miss Baratheon’s wake. Believe me, I'm doing you a favour. I've been in your place.”

Aemond laughs. “When have you ever had a meaningful relationship with someone?”

“I don't mean that. I mean I've been a victim of the scrutiny of London's elite.”

“Well, you brought it on yourself after getting drunk and getting into a fight with Dalton Greyjoy at Helaena's debutante ball,” his brother reminds him.

Aegon sighs; it's pointless to explain why he got into a fight with Greyjoy at Helaena's debutante ball. He just learned to live with the label of an alcoholic and violent person and made it his own so that they couldn't hurt him with it.

Oh, and he destroyed any political/professional ties between the Greyjoys and the Targaryens. But that's not exactly a tale fit for Christmas.

“Is Helaena going to the party?” he asks, changing the subject as he opens a beer can under the disapproving gaze of his younger brother. “You have only one eye, and it feels like you have six. Can you relax a bit? I'm on vacation.”

“Your life is a vacation,” Aemond hisses bitterly. “I really don't believe it. She said she planned to stay in New York with Floris and Annika.”

“Is Annika not going to her father's party?”

Aemond shrugs, sipping his coffee. “We didn't go into that much detail; she just said they would stay in New York. She says Floris likes it there, so...”

Aegon smirks maliciously. “I bet Annika is taking her to every possible club to get her fucked and forget about you.”

“Do you have to be so unpleasant all the damn time?” Aemond questions. “She wouldn't do that. Unlike you, Annika knows her and knows she needs other things.”

“Hey, I accompanied you to that horrible movie and saved you from the funeral-party. We'll spend Christmas in a hot tub drinking and eating with some chicks. What more do you want from me?”

Aemond frowns, the last good eye though a bit less harsh, always alert and in disagreement with his words. However, Aegon knows that beneath all that calm and collected facade, he is suffering.

And he doesn't like to see his brother suffer unless he is the one causing it.

“Nothing, Aegon. I don't want anything from you, nor do I expect it,” he replies with annoyance, leaving his empty cup in the sink. “Get dressed. We leave in ten minutes. And you'll pay for those expensive shitty reindeer.”

“Fair enough.”

* 🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

The cold air hits Annika's face, and tosses her golden curls around. She brushes the hair stuck to her lip gloss off her face with annoyance, and her body shivers under all the layers of winter clothing. Her frozen hands tremble as she locks the car door.

“I won't drive in this weather ever again,” she mutters under her breath, striding towards the house porch with long steps, trying not to slip on the ice-covered stones. Helaena and Floris laugh at her from the door. “What?”

“That footwear is a bit impractical, don't you think?” Helaena remarks teasingly.

She looks at her boots without understanding. “They're my Moschino Black Faux Fur Snow Boots.”

“They have fur,” Helaena points out, amused.

“No animals were harmed in the making of these boots,” she retorts, struggling up the stairs. “Stop criticizing me for actually having style and open the door for me, will you? My ass is freezing.”

“Perhaps don't wear those boots outside again. You're going to slip,” Floris recommends, catching Annika's arm to help her with the last steps while Helaena finishes opening the door.

When they enter the cabin, they head straight to Helaena's enormous bedroom amid laughter. The cabin is huge but cozy, with a room for each family member. Floris tries to ignore the fact that she knows by heart the door to Aemond's room and everything inside.

Annika gets rid of her clothes and turns on the heating, trying to warm up. “Does anyone remember how to make hot chocolate?”

“You have the recipe book in the kitchen,” Floris reminds her.

Annika frowns. “Who am I kidding? I don't do kitchen. But we should buy Christmas cookies...”

“You mean, make Christmas cookies?” Helaena raises an eyebrow.

“No, thanks. I just redid my nails. But we could get gingerbread houses to decorate!” She offers hopefully. “But first, I need to shower and change. And before you say anything; I can't feel my toes.”

Hel sighs. “Perhaps Floris and I should go shopping while you shower.”

“Well, I don't do groceries either,” Annika winks at them. “Could you buy me a few things? I'll text them to you. You go while I bathe, and then I'll prepare dinner. Which means, order something to be delivered here and get the wine from the cellar.”

Floris rolls her eyes, not even having taken off her coat. “You better have three glasses of wine waiting for us when we get back to watch a movie.”

Annika snaps her fingers. “Done!” She says, then takes off her fur hat and puts it on Floris. “There you go. So your ideas won't freeze.”

“We'll be back in fifty minutes,” Helaena announces, taking the car keys from Annika's stiff and gloved hands.

As soon as she's alone, Annika rummages through one of her suitcases for her shower things and crosses to the main bathroom, in front of Helaena's room. Unfortunately, her friend's bedroom is not ensuite, and they have endured countless escapes where they had to cross to the bathroom in the middle of the night and lose all glamour by running into one of Helaena's brothers or nephews.

Annika has always loved coming to the Aspen cabin. It has always been a place very different from her home where time seems to run in a different way. Almost magical, though she knows better now to understand magic doesn’t exist. Since she was a child, Helaena and her family often felt more like a family than her own. It was strange because even though Helaena adored her brothers, Annika knew she felt like an outsider. Very alien to them.

In one way or another, the three of them always found a home in themselves. Where they could be without prejudices or fear.

She turns on the shower, letting the water flow hot, even boiling, as she removes her clothes and hangs her pink robe on the nearest hook. She is careful to lift her long and shiny hair to avoid getting it wet and preserve her meticulously done blowout. Her hair has always been one of her best features and is almost sacred to her; curls that fall like a cascade of liquid gold to her waist.

Her muscles contract as her body comes into contact with the hot water, and she sighs relieved. She stays almost inert for a while before taking her shower lotion and starting to wash to remove any remnants of the plane and the trip and New York off her.

And she has a lot to clean. A life of mistakes, an entire year of failure and sins and feelings kept deep in her heart.

But there are still eight days left for her to leave it all behind finally. Eight days for the year to end, and therefore, a new life to begin. A new life where she doesn't make mistakes or hurt anyone and is her best version. Where she is a better person and accompanies Helaena and Floris to do the groceries and learns to make Christmas dinner or hot chocolate.

But she still has eight more days to be the acidic and superficial Annika who runs away from her problems instead of facing them.

When she finishes washing her face, she reaches out for one of the towels before jumping into her robe. At that moment, the door opens abruptly, and the steam that fills the bathroom disperses into the air, letting in a cold draft from the hallway.

She glimpses, through the steam, a platinum blonde mane.

“Hel, come in. Did you return so quickly? I must have lost track of time. Did you bring the things I asked for?”

But Helaena doesn't respond. Annika wraps the small towel around her body and opens the shower door, stepping out.

“Wow, my Christmas wish came true already,” the mischievous and familiar laughter takes her completely by surprise.

Annika screams, disturbed when through the steam, she makes sense of Aegon's figure, Hel's older brother. The unbearable older brother, to be precise. Among other things.

She moves so far back that she slips. Aegon has to hold her arm so that she doesn't fall and hit her head on the edge of the bathtub. When she is stable enough, she pushes him to let go of her bare and wet arms, a bit disturbed by the vulnerable situation, but Aegon holds her so tightly that this time he slips backward and takes her with him.

“You're an idiot!” She yells, holding onto the towel that is the only thing separating her naked body from him.

Aegon laughs painfully. “Wow, my second Christmas wish just came true.”

“What are you doing here?!” Annika demands, too disturbed, while trying to find a way to get off him without pressing any unwanted parts of her body. He looks at her, his blue eyes against her green ones, and smiles.

“I could ask you the same. This is my house.”

When she finally manages to stand up, and the steam has dispersed a bit, she notices that Aemond is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and a slightly disturbed look. When he notices the blush on Annika's cheeks, he turns away to give her privacy.

“We almost called the police,” Aemond tells her. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you an intruder wasn't going to shower. And I'm sure no intruder would wear those ridiculous fur boots...”

“Would you mind?” Annika says to Aegon, holding the towel against her chest as if her life depends on it while grabbing her robe with the other hand.

“Go ahead, darling.”

“Aegon,” Aemond warns. He grumbles and turns around as Annika puts on the robe without even removing the towel and ties the belt with a knot worthy of the navy.

“Nice knot. Did Greyjoy teach you to do that?” Aegon mocks when he turns to look at her again. She gives him the middle finger. “Would you mind explaining what you're doing here?”

“I came with Helaena and Floris to spend Christmas. What are you doing here?”

“It seems great minds think alike,” Aegon snorts. “A heads-up would have been nice, by the way. What if we were with girls here?”

“You could have warned yourself, too,” she tells him. “And it wouldn't be the first time we find you in a deplorable situation that you dragged Aemond into.”

“You can't stay here,” Aemond takes care of dissipating the heated atmosphere between his brother and the girl. She laughs sarcastically.

“Don't worry, your sister and your ex-girlfriend are shopping and will be back any moment. I'll be waiting for them outside with our luggage; I'll book a hotel.”

She doesn't wait for an answer, passes by Aemond without acknowledging him, and crosses to Helaena's room. Aemond rubs his temples, disturbed and stressed.

“This wasn't part of the plan,” Aegon informs, in case Aemond thought he had orchestrated the encounter intentionally. “You didn't know Helaena was coming?”

“No. She said she was staying in New York. Why would she lie?” Aemond questions.

“Technically, we lied too. But who knows with Helaena...”

“You never lie to Helaena. And she never lies to you. What's going on?” Aemond crosses his arms. “She said you haven't visited her lately. Not even the last time you were in New York.”

“What? Are you a detective now?” Aegon crosses his arms, hurrying to leave the bathroom and go down the stairs to the front door when he hears it open. Aemond follows him, but Aegon stops halfway. “Listen, if you don't want to see Floris, that's fine. I'll deal with them. Lock yourself in your room to cry or whatever you do. I understand...”

Aemond actually considers it but shakes his head. “It's okay.”

Aegon pats his shoulder. Annika comes out already dressed, with perfect hair, and ignores the presence of the brothers to join her friends while holding the phone between her cheek and shoulder, trying to get a hotel reservation. The brothers follow her down, and when they reach the first floor, in the entrance, it's not precisely their friends who are there.

It's Daeron, engaging in... something akin to making out with a girl with intense red hair who hasn't even let go of her bags yet. Both are dripping melted snow, wetting the wooden floor, deeply lost in each other, not caring much. Annika stays still at the foot of the stairs and reaches back to hit Aegon's chest, who looks at them proudly. Aemond crosses his arms while the only girl puts her hand to her mouth.

Aegon claps once. “What a show.”

Daeron and the girl separate as quickly as a spit for a pardon, even more disturbed than Annika was when found in the shower. Aegon looks at Annika and Aemond and laughs. “It will never get old.”

“What are you guys doing here?” The young boy despairs, while the girl hides behind him. Daeron tilts his head at the bizarre situation. “Oh, my God. Please tell me you weren't-“

“Have you gone crazy?” Aemond interrupts. It's been a while since Annika has seen Daeron, and the last time, the boy was at her height. He has grown between a much taller man than Aegon, almost reaching Aemond's height. “Why aren't you at boarding school?”

“It's winter break?” He doubts his answer. “I thought all of you would be either in New York or London for your father's party, Annika. Nice to see you again, by the way.”

“See? That's what you'd expect from my best friend's brothers,” she snorts, approaching him to give him a kiss on the cheek. “How you've grown! And who is this?”

“She yells at us, and he’s the one who gets the kisses,” Aegon complains.

“You never drew me a picture of us while I babysat you,” Annika tells him plainly, while Daeron puts an arm around her shoulders affectionately.

“That's because I was the one taking care of you, brat.”

“This is Willa. She is my girlfriend,” Daeron introduces Willa to Annika. Willa smiles shyly, while Annika grins from ear to ear and shakes her hand warmly. “Willa, this is Annika. An old family friend.”

“Hi, I've heard a lot about you,” Willa says, trying to sound convincingly extroverted despite the humiliation she has suffered. Annika looks at her puzzled and amused at the same time. “He was very much in love with you.”

“I know. It was adorable to see him scare off the boys in my grade with his Spider-Man pajamas on one occasion,” she laughs. “It's a pleasure, Willa. So, I guess the four of you had the same idea. How convenient.”

“Didn’t you guys come together?” Daeron asks, puzzled.

“Of course not. I came with Hel and Flo. They were here, but they didn't have the decency to warn any of us before coming to make a bachelor nest at your parents's family house.”

Aegon rolls his eyes. “And we were having some amazing days until you came to disrupt our peace.”

“Don't worry. I'll leave as soon as I can get a hotel. Daeron? Should I look for something for you and Willa? I think you two had more interesting plans than to spend Christmas with those two,” Annika asks, with the sound of keys on the cell phone she activated just to annoy Aegon. He squints at the sound and groans.

“Yes... I mean, no! This is my house, and I have the right to use it too,” Daeron stands firm.

“Does mom and dad know you're here?” Aegon asks, and the younger one sighs.

“They don't know you're here either,” Annika reminds him.

“Oh, come on. Whose side are you on?”

“Whichever is not yours. We’re leaving because I know none of us wants to spend time with you, but if Daeron wants to stay, you can't just kick him out because you feel like it. And let's be honest... Aemond, are you even having fun?”

Aemond opens his mouth to speak, but his brother interrupts him. “You're a sellout.”

“Sorry, but they're right. I can't stand you for one more day alone. I'll go back home, and I prefer the funeral-party of my relationship than seeing you hook up with a random blonde and calling to clean your vomit from the carpet.”

The front door opens, letting in another freezing gust of wind. “We're...!”

Floris falls silent when they see the scene, just like Helaena, who blinks several times and points at each one as if counting them one by one. “What are you guys doing here?” Helaena asks.

Aegon throws his hands in the air. “I can't do this again. It's not funny if you're not in a compromising situation. Do you have something interesting in those bags? Dildos?”

“Who is that?” Floris whispers to Annika, pointing at the redhead girl, ignoring the fact that Aemond can't take his eyes off her. “What are they doing here?”

Helaena smiles. “You must be Willa! I'm so glad to finally meet you!”

“You knew Daeron had a girlfriend and didn't say anything?” Aemond asks, dismayed. Helaena shrugs after wrapping the girl in a hug; it wasn't her story to tell. “What else haven't you told us?”

“I knew. We spent an entire week together. I’m sure she remembers,” Aegon teases her. “Hi, Willa.”

“Hi… Good to see you again.”

“Oh, don’t lie to him,” says Daeron.

Then, someone knocks on the door. Aegon, who has moved to sit on the steps, lets out a grunt. “If that's Mom and Dad planning a romantic Christmas getaway and coming to install a sex swing, I'm going to shoot them and then shoot myself in the balls.”

Annika scrunches her nose. “Do you have to be so gross all the time?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He smirks.

Helaena opens the door a little curiously. “Hello?”

“Hey. You’re Helaena, right?" Asks a brown-haired guy, dressed in a plaid shirt and a black jacket. “I'm Logan. I live in the house next door, remember?”

“The house next door, as in the house that's three kilometers away?” Aemond grumbles.

“Yes, of course, I remember you. How are you? Want to come in?”

Aegon puts his hands to his face and pretends to cry.

“Sure... Sorry to interrupt, but the power has gone out in my house. Is it okay if I stay here for a few hours?” Logan asks. “I know we don't know each other, and I'd go to a café, but it's already dark outside, and they're announcing snowstorms for tomorrow and the day after. It's a bit dangerous to take the road. I might not be able to come back.”

“They just took the road, and they're safe,” Aegon says. “Hey, maybe you can go to the hotel they'll all go to. Maybe all of you can rent the same room and have a Christmas party.”

Logan laughs. “A hotel? On December 23th, with a snowstorm at the door and no previous reservation? Good luck finding something.”

Annika stops dialing numbers and looks a bit irritated at Helaena. “You didn't check the weather before coming, did you?”

“Well, I didn't feel like there was going to be a snowstorm,” she says, a little uncomfortable.

“I see you're having... a family situation here. Maybe I should go,” Logan says this time.

“Wait. Are you from around?” Annika asks.

“Don't talk to her or look her directly in the eyes; she’ll turn you into stone like she's Medusa,” Aegon warns.

Logan ignores him. “Yes, I live here. My family was supposed to come for a visit, but they were arriving tomorrow, and flights have been canceled or rescheduled.”

“Sorry to hear that. And is there no other place we can stay? They don't rent anything either?” Floris asks this time.

“I could try to get you something with a friend, but I don't think so. And anyway, as I told you, going out right now to look for something can be dangerous. If you have the possibility of spending the night here, I suggest you do it,” Logan says.

Aemond looks at Aegon. “Well, I guess our escapade is officially over, thank God. Of course, everyone can stay. We have the space...”

“It was supposed to be just us,” Aegon complains and walks to the door. “Look, it's not even that bad outside.”

He opens the door, and a freezing wind makes a bunch of leaves and sticks enter the house, then slams the door shut. He grits his teeth.

“Just for one night,” Daeron finally gives in and looks at Willa. “At least until tomorrow when things calm down, and we can look for somewhere to stay. We wouldn't even have to see each other's faces.”

“Daeron, it's fine. I don't mind spending time with your family,” she smiles, so delighted with the idea that Floris finds it a bit funny she wants to be part of the messed up gang.

“Yes, Daeron. As if we were going to tell about the time you got lost in the woods, and we found you bathed in cow shit,” Aegon laughs, but no one laughs with him.

“That was you,” Helaena reminds him. “Two years ago.”

“Oh. And what about the time he tried to ride a bike on a beam and fell into a cactus?”

“Again, that was you,” Aemond says this time. “You were drunk as a skunk and insisted on doing it even though everyone told you not to.”

“We pulled thorns out of your ass for three days,” Annika recalls tiredly, then smiles at him. “You've always been a classy boy.”

Aegon looks at her with crossed arms. “At least I didn't ruin my father's wedding with a tantrum.”

“At least I didn't ruin an entire debutante ball,” she mutters back.

“Still on that? It's been years, woman!”

“I have the right to be mad...!”

“Okay, let's not go there,” Aemond warns, placing his hands on Annika's shoulders. Willa hugs Daeron's arm, confused. “We have to endure each other for just one night. Let's not start fighting. We all had fun together before.”

“He's right. You shouldn't fight, even Aemond is trying to get us to have fun,” Helaena suggests, and everyone bursts into laughter. Logan and Willa, more out of obligation than anything else. “I have an idea.”

“Should we get into the hot tub while we drink?” Aegon says, hopeful.

“Are you insane? It's only six in the evening. What are you, a savage?” Floris questions. He opens his mouth to reply, and she shakes her head. “Please, don't answer that.”

“I was going to suggest that we try to cook something. Like... a dinner. And we should all chip in.”

Everyone looks at Annika, who opens her mouth surprised. “Why are you all looking at me? Aegon blew up the microwave making sausages.”

“Yes, because you told me to wrap them in aluminum foil,” he crosses his arms.

Daeron looks at them puzzled. “I thought Aegon was alone when his microwave exploded. Alone and drunk.”

“I told him via text,” she quickly adds. Aegon snorts. “And as a joke.”

"That joke cost me a new kitchen.”

“Well, most of us know not to put metals in the microwave. So, we can make dinner without any problem.”

Annika crosses her arms. “Well… I want an apron.”

* 🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

“Logan! Be more careful. This is cashmere!”Annika yells; she's wearing gloves, a chef's hat, and an apron she found in the utility room. No one exactly knows how, considering she hasn't touched anything, but her apron is stained as if she had worked for hours in a fast food factory.

After trying for a while to get her to chop an onion, they gave up, deciding that Annika would slow them down more than help. Aemond and Aegon hadn't been the epitome of efficiency either, so it boiled down to Hel, Floris, Willa, Logan, and Daeron. But they let Annika decorate the cookies while Aegon tried to steal the dough mix.

Logan makes the girls laugh enthusiastically, even Daeron at times.

“I don't like him” Aegon tells Aemond, drinking what's left of his beer. “How do we know he's not a serial killer? Showed up at our door out of nowhere.”

Aemond rolls his singular eye. “Yes. He looks ruthless helping Hel and Annika put sprinkles on the gingerbread man cookies.”

“It could be poison,” he argues, watching as Logan puts icing on Annika's nose, and everyone laughs. “It's not even funny.”

"They seem to think it's hilarious," Aemond replies disinterestedly, while meticulously setting up his glass chess set. “Do you want to play?”

“Can we play strip chess?”

“No.”

“Then, no. But maybe Floris wants to play,” Aegon points to the girl sitting on the kitchen counter, surprisingly quiet amidst the symphony of laughter around her. “Are you going to tell me what happened between you two?”

“Of course. When you tell me why you've been staring at Annika incessantly since she arrived.”

Aegon sighs and settles into the couch. “You know I've always been protective of her. Same with Helaena and Floris. Mother always encouraged me to do it.”

“Well, you seem more jealous than anything, and I don't see you very concerned that your presumed serial killer is clearly interested in our sister,” Aemond points out. Aegon looks at them and furrows his brow.

“Of course not. It's Helaena. She wouldn't...”

“She wouldn't what?”

“Ugh. That’s disgusting,” he mutters at the thought of his younger sister in a relationship.

“Guys, look,” Helaena approaches them as if they summoned her. She holds a tray freshly taken from the oven. “We made us, cookie version!”

Aegon furrows his brow and points at a gingerbread man with a questionable appearance. “What happened to this one?”

“That's you,” she says with a smile. Aemond bites his inner cheek to stifle a laugh. “Annika said she had technical difficulties.”

“It looks like a voodoo doll,” Aemond remarks. “I'd be careful.”

Aegon grumbles and gets up from his seat. He heads to the kitchen annoyed, where Annika is trying to scrape dough off the marble countertop along with Willa and Logan. “Want to smoke a cigarette?”

She looks at him, bewildered. “I'm busy.”

“I'm sure they can finish without you,” he tells her, taking her wrist to drag her to the backyard. She removes the apron, puts on a coat, and her Moschino boots, earning a disgusted look from Aegon, the cigarette hanging between his lips. “Those are the ugliest boots I've ever seen in my life.”

“Well, I have to endure your face on Christmas...”

“Cut the bullshit,” he says, lighting his cigarette and offering Annika fire to light hers. “You've been avoiding me. And now you're more passive-aggressive than usual. People’s starting to notice.”

“I've been avoiding you because you've been avoiding me,” she reminds him, her tone suddenly turning acidic. Aegon knows it well. It's because he's gotten under her skin. “You didn't return my calls, and obviously, I stopped trying. The message was more than clear.”

“Please, it was a relief for you that I didn't return your calls. It's exactly what you wanted,” Aegon points out. “You haven't set foot in your house since spring. Did you not want to run into me?”

“You didn't go to Floris's birthday to avoid running into me. You didn't visit Helaena to avoid running into me. You couldn't even return her calls because you couldn't face her and lie to her face.”

He opens his mouth, but chooses his words carefully. “I guess we've both been avoiding each other, then.”

“Maybe it's for the best, you know?” She shrugs. “Lying became exhausting. I was tired of pretending I was somewhere when I was actually with you. We can't do that.”

“It was good,” Aegon admits.

“Just not good enough for you to want to stop lying to everyone about it,” she deduces, pursing her lips into a thin line as she exhales smoke through her nose. “I understand.”

“I don't think you do,” he says, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand, noticeably uncomfortable. “The problem wasn't that you weren't good enough, quite the opposite. The problem is, you're my little sister's best friend. I've known you forever. It's...”

“If you tell me I'm like your little sister, I'm going to kick you,” she warns. Aegon shakes his head, amused.

“I can't do that to Helaena. I've ruined many things for her and my brothers. I don't want to ruin one of the best things she has. We wouldn't have worked, you and I. You belong with her, not with me.”

Annika nods. “Okay.”

“So, are we good? At least because we're stuck here on Christmas?” He asks, hoping that's the case. But he knows with Annika, things are never that simple. “We can call it a truce.”

“Sure,” she smiles and puts out her cigarette on the floor. Aegon wants to say something else, because he knows he’s hurting her…

But he doesn’t reach for her.

* 🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

Willa bites her lip while rummaging through her suitcase. Daeron's room is impeccably clean, and she finds it amusing that he has a solar system décor clearly chosen when he was a child.

“I don't even remember the order of the planets nowadays,” he says to excuse his questionable interior decorating decision.

“Daeron. Can I ask you something?” She says, a bit curious. Her boyfriend settles on the bed with his arms behind his head and nods. “Aegon and Annika...?”

“Ugh. I don't even want to start talking about them,” he sighs as if the topic bores him.

“What did they mean by what they said about the debutante ball-“

“Oh, no. No,” the room's door opens, and Floris walks in unannounced. “We really don't talk about August 15, 2017. It's more like strictly forbidden.”

“Jesus Christ! Can I help you with something?” Daeron asks. “You should’ve knocked first.”

“Hide me until Aemond gets bored of playing chess and invites me to play.”

Daeron rolls his eyes and pats the side of his bed, inviting the girl to sit.

“I'm sorry for interrupting and eavesdropping. Just came to pretend I'm busy.”

“That's okay,” he says. “Willa wanted to know what happened at the debutante ball. If you want the full backstory, we have the right person here.”

“We shouldn't talk about it,” Floris reminds him.

“She's been my girlfriend for a long time. And she's staying much longer... Or not if my family scares her away by barging in unannounced.”

Floris sighs. “You're manipulative. If she's going to stay, then she has to know. And she has to know to never, ever speak on the subject. And no one can know that you know, understand?” Willa nods and sits on the bed with her legs crossed, ready to hear the story.

“You have to swear never to speak of it. If you do, you'll have to turn your firstborn to the devil, and your lineage will be cursed for generations,” Daeron jokes, stretching his leg slightly to playfully hit her. “Think of our children.”

“You two are disgustingly adorable,” Floris laughs, then turns serious as she starts telling the story. “So, it's 2017. Helaena, Annika, and I are, what? Sixteen, seventeen, and we're going to be presented in society. We had months of preparation; wardrobe, our escort, everything had to be perfect. Now that you've seen what Annika's like, I'm sure you can understand the level of detail she put into her preparations. Two years before... Her mother had passed away. It was tough for her, and for Alicent too since they were very close friends.”

“Oh, I didn't know that.”

“Yeah. The thing is, Alicent and Freya, Annika's mother, always wanted Aegon to be Annika's escort for her debutante ball. It was a perfect idea, the first male heir of the Targaryen family and the first daughter of the Lannister family. We all assumed it would be that way... Until two months before the ball, Aegon said he wasn't going to do it. Without any explanation. He was in college, so there really was no way to force him. He showed up on the day of the ball, drunk, and at the end of the dance, for no apparent reason, he attacked Dalton Greyjoy, Annika's escort. It was a disaster. They tried to separate them, but they beat each other up. They knocked down a sculpture, broke a table, and ruined the dress of Annika's mother. Aegon's family paid for all the damages, but since then, they don't take him to any social events.”

Willa looks like she's turned pale. “It's... Wow.”

“Annika and Aegon have hated each other since then. I mean, they always had a strange relationship, but it got worse after that, rightfully so. They keep the peace for Helaena's sake more than anything, and I think after so much time, they've learned to forgive each other,” Daeron says. “I wouldn't even bother trying to understand them.”

Willa nods. “I understand. I... I would never have imagined something like that. They have a strange energy, but I never would've thought they got along badly.”

“Hey!” Annika suddenly opens the door, making everyone startle. She smiles, mischievous. “What are you talking about?”

“School,” Daeron says simply.

“Relationships,” Floris replies at the same time.

Annika frowns.

“Relationships and school,” Willa clarifies.

“Okay... I came to invite you to play. We don't have a board game for this many people, but we thought it would be fun to play something more... Dynamic.”

Daeron straightens up to sit on the bed. “Like what?”

“Never Have I Ever,” Annika says, a sly smile on her face.

[pit-and-the-pen]

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

A/N: Part Two to Requited Love

I know people have been waiting for this. And the poll is still active but I couldn’t wait any longer. There are two endings and this is the unofficial (in terms of my ongoing Sunbeam series) Azriel ending but… just bare with me

Read the other ending Here

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort , implied smut (not with Az)

WC:4.4 K

divider by @cafekitsune

The next morning I was in Rhys office. He barely even looked up from the paper strewn over his desk before I spoke. 

“I’m going back home.” 

He sighed, leaning back into his chair. His eyes raked over me, “Does this have anything to do with why Azriel was so huffy this morning?” His eyebrow raised and I felt the anger I’d been trying to quell since last night rise its head up like a sleeping dragon.

“Fuck off. Let him be mad if he wants to be mad.” I snapped. 

“Mad isn’t exactly how I would put it,” He paused looking at me. “What happened?” The High Lord questioned. I sighed not having the strength to recount the events from last night. 

“Nothing but the inevitable.” he frowned at my non-answer but didn’t press any harder. 

“I’ll miss you. We all will.” He said finally. I nodded. 

“You all should visit.” Not an I’ll visit. No. If I could avoid it I would never step foot into this miserable court ever again. 

I was gone by mid-morning. Mor had helped me winnow the things I wanted to take with me. What they did with the rest wasn’t any of my concern. Rhys or Feyre had bought it all for me anyways, let them decide what to do with their money. 

Once I had gotten settled into my room, I hugged Mor goodbye and thanked her for her help. She just gave me a tighter hug and told me she would visit soon. 

It was two weeks before I could see Helion.Two weeks of settling back into my court that I loved so dearly. Helion

 He was visiting Dawn court for some trade agreement that needed to be signed. I came by every day, asking if he’d returned you. His second would just silently shake her head at me. And I would stomp back to my room like an angry babe. 

Two weeks of checking before I finally saw her nod her head and I had to stop myself from running into Helions office. I had the control to at least knock on the door but not much else. I quickly shut the door behind me as he called me in. 

“Sunbeam!” He called out when saw my face. “I had hoped the rumors of you moving back home were true.” He walked around the desk and gave me a brisk hug. Very out of character for him. 

“You’re not an easy man to schedule an appointment with, Helion.” I smiled warmly at the High Lord of my court. 

“If you wanted a piece of me, you only had to say the words and I would have come running darling.” There's the flirt I remember. I thought, rolling my eyes.

“But judging by your urgency in requesting a meeting that my second expressed to me, I’m going to assume that’s not what you wanted to see me for.”

My smile dropped as I braced myself for the question I needed to ask him.

“I need you to break a mating bond”

His mouth fell open. For once in my life, Helion was speechless. “I don’t know if I can even do that. Are you sure that’s what you want?” His eyes saw right through me. I threw my head back, a sad laugh bubbling past my lips. 

“Yes. No. Gods I don’t know. I just don’t want it to hurt like this forever.” I felt treacherous tears starting to fall down my face. Helion grabbed my arms gently before I could wipe them away. 

“I know you well enough to know that you don’t run away from hard things.” He held me against his chest as I really started to sob. 

“Helion. Every second that I’m away from him it kills me. I’m over here dying inside over some male who only ever saw me as a second option.” 

“Then he’s an idiot. But the mother still saw fit to make you two mates. Give it some more thought, you’re clearly still not fully decided. I’ll do some research to see if it’s even possible and if you still want to, I’ll be here to help.” I nodded my thanks into his shirt. He takes my head between his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe the tears still streaking down my face. He gives me a gentle kiss on the top of my head before I walk out of the room. 

Helion was powerful, but apparently not powerful enough to break a mating bond. Many had tried but no one had ever successfully achieved it without one or both parties dying. As much as I resented Azriel, I didn’t want to kill him, nor myself to be rid of him. So I would just keep ignoring that little golden feeling in my chest, the feeling that seemed to be growing more everyday. 

I fell into a familiar routine back in the Day Court. I took up my old job as a researcher. My days were spent surrounded by the massive libraries of my home court. People would come to us with questions and it was our job to use the knowledge at our disposal to find them answers. It kept me busy at the very least, but I did have to admit that I love doing it. I felt more useful here than I ever had at the Night Court. Pangs of sadness would rip through me when someone snarked in a way that made me think of Cassian. When someone would smirk and I could only picture Rhysand standing in front of me as he beat me in chess. The art was so beautiful that I longed to show Feyre if only to see that twinkle in eye as she dissected the colors and shading used. 

Worst of all, I truly did miss Azriel. Time had given my anger less of an edge. Thinking of him didn’t hurt the way it once had. Didn’t have me spiraling in on myself until I was nothing more than sobs. I still wasn’t ready to forgive him but I wasn’t angry anymore and that had to count for something right? And it had nothing with the small feelings I would occasionally receive from the other end of the bond. I don’t know if he was consciously doing it or if it was purely because of the depth of the emotions he felt. 

I stopped looking for ways to sever the bond between us. Content with just letting it sit unreturned in my chest for the rest of my very long life. 

Someone calling my name pulled me from my musing. One of the messengers, Dia, smiled brightly up at me. “Hey sunbeam. Helion asked me to deliver this to you.” I took the golden envelope from her. I thanked her and she turned around, leaving me back to my books. 

I slid my finger under the seal and pulled out the letter. He was flirty even in a letter. He had requested that I accompany him to the latest ball he was hosting. Helion, ever the charmer, even placed boxes for me to check yes or no. I giggled to myself at the juvenile nature of it, but checked yes with the quill sitting next to me. 

The ball was just a few days away and I was so excited as dress after dress were brought into my room for me to try on. The one that ended up catching my eye was a floor length glossimer dress, such a pale golden color it looked almost like sunlight itself. The bottom was dyed a light pink color that flowed into it seamlessly. It took my breath away as the last button snapped into place. It fit like a glove and I knew instantly this was the dress I had to wear. 

Facing the mirror, I was blown away by the person standing in front of me. I didn’t recognize her. My hair was pinned up into a flowing updo at the base of my neck. I caught eyes in the mirror and whirled around to see Helion racking his eyes over my figure.

He let out a low whistle and I blushed, adjusting my tiara. I walked over to him and he held out his hand for me, twirling me around dramatically when I took it. “No one will be able to take their eyes off of you, Sunbeam.” His eyes hungirly raked over me, “If you ever reconsider my offer. I would take you to bed in a heartbeat. Just say the words.” I pushed his shoulder, I didn’t doubt his words. 

“Keep your pants on Helion. We have a ball to get to.” 

“I’m High Lord. I can be late.” His pupils had dilated and I rolled my eyes, pushing him out the door before I linked my arm into his. 

The ball was as lavish as I had expected. There was much to celebrate and this was mostly to welcome the new High Lord. Eris. Beron had finally died a few months back and Eris had officially stepped into the role with grace. The autumn court once known for its cruelty seemed to be taking a new direction and as I talked to nobility from the court, it was for the better. I had gotten to know him over the years, his frequent visits to the Night Court, plus a few flirty exchanges that I always brushed off, while he was helping us during the war softened me to him. Learning the true events of that night with Mor. 

I locked eyes with Eris across the room. He had been heartbreakingly handsome when he was just High Fae but as a High Lord? His hair had grown slightly longer, just touching his shoulders. Dressed in a deep maroon suit that showed off every single one of his muscles. The permanent scowl that had been etched into his face had been replaced with a smile that radiated comfort. My feet seemed to move without deciding to. Eris kept his eyes locked onto mine as I got closer. My cheeks heated up under his intense stare. 

“Hi little sunbeam,” Honeyed words wrapped around me. “Seems like you’re no longer hiding in the shadows.” He held out his hand, eyes flickering to the dance floor. I smiled up at him and gently placed my hand in his. 

His touch was firm and the warmth of his power radiated off of him. He clutched my waist, pulling me flush to his front. I felt every plane of his toned body pressed against me and goosebumps broke out across my skin having nothing to do with the temperature in the room. The two of us gilded across the floor. I could feel the eyes of the room on us but I only had eyes for the male in front of me. 

“If I had known you danced this good, I would have pulled you out of that miserable court a long time ago.” He spoke into the shell of my ear.  “I’ll never understand what the Shadowslinger was thinking, even I could smell the mating bond on you. Plus, one look at me with those beautiful doe eyes and I would have been putty in your hands.” He nipped at my earlobe and I felt it deep in my stomach. But I couldn’t help that twinge in my gut that made this feel wrong. Even with all of him pressed up against me. Eris would only have to say the words and any fae in Prythian would be on their knees before them. Even I had to admit he was devastatingly handsome. So I fought against that little voice screaming at me and leaned into his touch more. 

Before I knew what had happened, I felt Eris’ warmth leave me. I shuddered at the new chill in the air. When I looked around, I saw shadows wrapped around my torso, lovingly coiled around my waist. I almost smiled at their weight. 

“Keep your hands off of her.” Azriel growled at the High Lord woh did nothing but smirk at me as I was pulled from the room onto a balcony just outside the ballroom. 

 “You had no right!” I screeched at him, wrenching my arm from his grasp. Anger seethed through me. I felt my palms heat up from the light trying to escape from them. He went to grab my arm and I ripped it back from his reach. “Don’t you fucking dare.” 

“Please.” Was all he said and suddenly it was like that night all over again. Me pouring my heart out and all he could say was please. 

“Please what, Azriel? Is that all you know how to do, beg and plead. For what? Was breaking my heart once not enough for you.” 

“Gods. What do you want me to say?” He ran his hands through his hair. He looked like he was about to lose it. Good. “Do you want to hear how I was fucking terrified. How any good thing that I had ever received had been taken away from me? That when I felt that twinge in my chest, that I knew what it meant but prayed to the gods that it wasn’t that.” I went to start in on him again. “No. Not because of that, because I knew that you were the one person who could utterly destroy me. Mor was a pass time. She was convenient and it would have made sense for us to be together in some capacity. Then Elain showed up. I saw so much of her in you, she was sweet and kind but she wasn’t you. Looking back, I don’t even know why I was so hung up on her. I’m not saying I wasn’t stupid because I was and I said some awful things to you. I said them because I knew that was the only thing that would get you to realize I would never deserve you.” 

“Stop. Just stop. I’m sure you’ve rehearsed this all before but do you actually think I’m stupid enough to believe it?” I spit out between my teeth. 

“No. I don’t think you’re stupid at all. The exact opposite. Yet for some reason you never ended up breaking the bond. Which would have been the smart thing to do. You deserve that, I deserved that.” 

That made me pause. “How did you…Did Helion tell you?” Angry at the idea of Helion running to Azriel with that information. 

“Helion told Rhys who passed it on to me. Rhys explained what would most likely happen if you decided to break it and before he could tell Helion he had lost his mind, I told him if that’s what you wanted to do I would accept that.” He said plainly. A part of me knew he was telling the truth. 

“Don’t be stupid. You would have died if I broke the bond. It wasn’t the same as rejecting it. That type of magic broke the very part of you it formed to.” I couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth right now. 

“I know. And I figured that if you were in enough pain to take that risk, to risk you dying, then I should be willing to risk it for a situation I had put us both in.” My mind was reeling at his words.

“That night..” I started, he interrupted me.

“I said the most vile things I could think of. I panicked when you told me about the bond. If you could feel it too, I knew nothing good could have come from that so I pushed you away.” I shook my head, as if I could shake his words away from my ears. 

“You seemed so shocked when I told you.” 

His head sunk down, voice small “I was shocked because no part of me believed, believes, that I deserve you in that way.” When he stepped forward, I didn’t step away. Mind too busy catching up with his words. “Please say something. “ 

I turned my eyes up to look at him. Hazel eyes soft sparkling with unshed tears. I wanted to rip into him. I truly did. Some sick part of me wanted to make him hurt like he had hurt me but I know that wouldn’t fix anything here. 

“You don’t get to do this to me. You don’t get to say all the right things and just have me forgive you. You don’t get to say that you love me after everything you did.” He sighed. Leaning his head on top of mine. I frowned at the contact, but didn’t push him away, refusing to melt into him. “Whatever your reason. You said all those things that you knew would hurt me, you said them and some part of you had to believe them.” 

“I know. There isn’t a day that I don’t regret everything that I said, everything I had put you through over all those years. I took you for granted and I didn’t realize how much I loved you until you were gone.” I wanted to push him back but something in me let his words sink into my bones. Because the moment I looked into his eyes I felt the other side of the bond snap into place. I gasped at the feeling I had spent so long ignoring. The bond seemed to sing in the air around us. My own sunlight flickering under my palms as I felt the sincerity of his words pump through the bond. The feeling was foreign but warm. It wrapped around me like a blanket, soothing my tense muscles. I didn’t realize how much the empty bond had been weighing on my shoulders. 

“You know this doesn’t change anything.” Was all I said and as he looked at me again, I knew that was a lie. “We can’t start over. There's no way to take back everything you said, everything you did” I said once I regained my ability to talk. His face sank completely.”I won’t break the bond. But I’m not accepting it either.” I ignored that kernel of hope I felt from him. 

“I’ll wait as long as it takes.” He leaned closer to me, taking my face in his hands. I didn’t fight him as he tilted my head up to meet his eyes. His eyes flickered to my lips but he just pressed a chaste kiss to the top of my head “I would cut off my own wings if you said it would make you happy.” He swore. A shudder racked through at the sincerity in his words. I pushed out of grasp and walked back down to the ball still in full swing. 

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

A strong pair of arms wrapped tighter around me as I started to rouse from my dreams. I snuggled deeper into the blankets tucked around me and laughed at the hand starting to creep higher up my naked chest. Rolling over I was met with baby blue eyes. Sol smirked at me as I stopped his wandering hands. “Was last night not enough for you?” I joked and he beamed at me. He rolled me over so I was underneath him

“How could I ever get enough of you?” He started kissing a trail down my neck and I groaned as a rush of desire flooded my veins. Ignoring the tug of anger that followed it. I hooked my leg around Sol’s waist and pulled him down to me. 

I smiled as I walked into work, willing the flush in my cheeks to tame itself as I settled amongst the books still sprawled across my desk. 

“Busy morning?” Aurora said, covering her mouth as she tried to hide her smile. 

“Very.” I returned, laughing at her faux scandalized look. 

“I don’t know how you manage to pull yourself away from him. If that was me I would ri-” 

“Aurora!” I chastised her. Smacking her arm playfully. My mind drifted off to the activities this morning. While we weren’t official, it had become a recurring event of Sol and I waking up tangled in my sheets. I was lucky to get out of the door on time those mornings. He kept pushing for something more solid. But some nagging part of me just couldn’t do it. I hated the idea of leading him, and that wasn’t my intention when this all started. He had caught my eye after that conversation with Azriel at the ball and it took one flirty joke before my lips were crashing against his. 

Sol was sweet and kind. He had been patient with me as I sorted out all of my own shit. Never giving me push back when I shut down the conversation of what exactly I wanted from this. Which I truthfully didn’t ever have an answer for. He put up with me pulling him into my bed night after night but I knew eventually he was going to grow tired of this arrangement. My stomach churned at the thought of now spoiled memories of his hands roaming over my body. I sighed, laying my head against my desk. Letting the cool wood calm my nerves. 

It came later than I had expected it, honestly. He was kinder than I deserved for the months I had led him on. His mate. I could laugh at the irony. But I wished him well with one last searing kiss and that was that. I truly did want the best for him, and I knew that wasn’t me. Not at my current state. 

I retreated into myself after that. Maybe there's something wrong with me. It was hard to keep those thoughts at bay. Everyone always found better things than me. Always the second choice. Those words I had spilled to Azriel had  come from the deepest part of my soul. All the cruel things he said to me were replaying in a loop until I felt tears spilling down my face. 

A frantic knock at my door pulled me from my despair. I didn’t even have time to wipe away the tears before I saw Helion standing in my doorway. His face held none of his usual charm. No, standing before me was Helion, not the playboy but the High Lord. 

“It’s Rhys.” That was all he had to say for me to take off sprinting along the halls. Helion could barely keep up with me and I wretched the door to his study open. 

Rhys didn’t so much as look up as I barreled into the office. I reached him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What's wrong?” And Rhys just broke in front of me. He explained about Feyre’s pregnancy. The wings that would most likely kill her. I felt my stomach drop to my feet.

“How can I help, Rhys?” I saw the pain in his eyes. 

“Just try to find if this has ever been attempted. Or if there's a way to make this safer for her.” Rhys looked like a shell of himself and I knew I would do whatever I had to do to never see him look so broken ever again. I knew what I needed to do as hard as the words were going to be to get out.

“I’ll come back with you.” He looked like I had grown three heads. “Between my research and healing, I’ll be the next best thing after Helion to help Feyre with this. Please. Let me help her survive this.” His eyes welled with tears as he just nodded. 

“I can’t thank you enough.” He wrapped his arms tightly around me. The laugh that left my lips was tense. 

“Thank me once we save her.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do after you helped me so much.” I placed a hand over his shaking one. 

I didn’t pack much. Most of which was as many books that Helion could bother parting with. All on various topics, Illyrian anatomy, childbirth and healing. I’d been healing since I was a child. With Madja by my side, even if we couldn’t find a way to safely deliver the baby, we could prevent Feyre from bleeding out. 

Rhys came the next morning to winnow me to the Night Court. I said goodbyes for now to my new friends. Helion had given me a tight hug as he thanked me for doing what he could not. 

Feyre greeted me exuberantly, crushing me against her as well as she could at the bump jutting out from her stomach. She was glowing. From the look of her, she didn’t have too much longer to go and I felt lightheaded at the thought of how much research I had to do in not much time. 

I was standing up on the roof, looking out at the lights of Velaris when I felt him behind me. I didn’t turn around as he joined me near the railing. 

“Thank you for being here. Rhys already seems more comfortable, more like himself.” My nod was the only acknowledgement I gave him that I had heard him. He signed and stayed looking out at the skyline. 

“Look...” He started. I cut him off.

“Don’t do this again, Azriel.” There was no anger in my voice this time. Just the voice of something who was so broken, broken because of this man. “We can’t go back and change the past. We can’t start over and you’ll never be able to undo the pain you caused. “

“Let me try. Please. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” His tone was just as raw as mine. And something in me broke. The part that was tired of pretending my feelings went away. I knew deep down in my heart that this was another chance. 

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to love you the way I did before.” I risked a glance over to him and I was blown away by the breathtaking smile that graced his face. 

““I’ll take you any way that you’ll have me” I knew he was telling the truth. It was there under the stars I realized, though it wouldn’t happen over night, loving Azriel would be as easy as breathing.

[stargirlie25]

Lets talk about the 4 foot nothing famous jewel hoarding biatch Amren.

Well if you did not know yet i do not like Amren. Mainly because she can be the biatch everybody thinks nesta is and gets away with it or in other words does not get treated how nesta was. Although there was times when Amren.....i cant say it....OK when Amren ate. LIKE IM TALKING SHE READ MY MIND.

Shes my second least favorite but here are small scenes where i lowkey loved her:

Acosf chapter 64 pg 656: Azriel asked,´´You made a bargain to die together?´´ ´´Fools,´´ Amren hissed ´´Romantic, idealistic fools´´ A few lines later..... Amren massaged her temples again. ´´We can discuss the idiocy of this bargain later´´ Real amren. REAL! Like feyre girl dont glare like you dont know how stupid you are like i know you cant read but common sense! (a joke) Like do they not realise that even after Nyx is born if one dies they birth die and nyx will become parentless and crowned the high lord of the night court. Then for the rest of his life he would have to except the fact that when his mother was pregnant WITH HIM,his parents decided that their love was far more important than the small child with a life ahead. Listen feyre i get that you cant live without Rhysand. But girly pops being a mother carry´s a responsibility. When you figured out you are pregnant THAT cell in your body is your TOP priority. That cell over the world. Even is rhys died by some tragic way feyre, you cant just dip! Neither can you rhysand YOU LITTLE MONKEYS.

Acosf chapter 29 pg 311: Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, ´´There is an Innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed too´´ A few seconds later..... She threw a nod toward Azriel. ´´Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself from against the darkness of the trove,if she chooses to. Don´t underestimate her´´

THANKYOU AMREN! Not to mention when cass said ´´but nesta should´ LIKE ATEEE but this would be a very long post if i talked about all the times cassian ate. Anyways amren is very right here only regarding elain bc she was sh!t talking about my wife (Nesta) so shes not compleatly right. Although im grateful someone said it. Lets note the fact when she said if she chooses to. Dont underestimate her´´ Sarah for sure added this to tell us how Azriels protectiveness of Elain goes. Not in the good way babe. I mentioned this and someone replied to me, StiLL AzRIel DId NoT FORbiD ElAin FRom DoING iT. WHY DOES THAT MATTER?

This man quite literally got mad about the idea of approaching elain with the REQUEST of helping. It isnt him saying no no its super dangerous this is Azriel basically saying we should not suggest this to her at all. That isnt care or protectiveness. ITS SPEAKING FOR SOMEONE AS IF THEY DONT HAVE A VOICE TO DO IT THEMSELVES. Not to mention Elain wanted to! Also lets talk about the fact how Elain called out nesta on belittling her for wanting a small life but restraining her for looking for bigger. WHICH IS SO REALL GO ELAINNN. Although she said that to Nesta BECAUSE Nesta said absoloutly not to the idea of elain trying to help on her on free will. Now just imagine what Elain would say if she knew what azriel thinks of her.

There is also another part where i liked amren but it was in acowar. It was when feyre was saying something about Elain (probably doubting her) and amren said that she sounded like tamlin. JAJAJAJAJAJ And then mor was threatning her like girl shut your stupid mouth. ANYWAYSS if Amren had been the one to say sorry to nesta i would love her but naurrr SJM hates me.

[feyresdaughter]

A Court of Frost and Starlight, chapter Seven - Nine:

RHYS POV

They certainly weren’t connected to the Siphons , to the raw killing power most Illyrians possessed and channeled through the stones to keep from destroying everything in its path. The bearer included.

The bearer included? Like....the yielding? MHMMMMM

He was still in love with Feyre. I couldn’t blame him for it. Even if it made me want to rip out his throat.

I mean I have at least one thing in common with furryboy, I'm also deeply in love with Feyre

“No word on Bryaxis, I take it.”I peered toward the marble beneath my boots, as if I could see all the way to the library beneath this mountain and the now-empty lower levels that had once been occupied. Az studied the floor as well. “Not a whisper. Or a scream, for that matter.” - “Let Bryaxis enjoy the Solstice as well,” I said.

YESSS BRYAXIS ENJOY SOLSTICE BABE

I waved a hand, my mating band catching in the morning light. That I hadn’t heard from Feyre yet told me enough: still asleep. And as tempting as it was to wake her just to hear the sound of her voice, I had little desire to have my balls nailed to the wall for disrupting her sleep.

Thehehe as she should, I get her. AND HE'S SUCH A SIMP HE JUST WANTS TO HEAR HER VOICE

CASSIAN POV

“I’m Emerie. This is my shop now.” A line in the sand. And an unusual one. Cassian shook her hand, unsurprised to find her grip strong and unfaltering.

Yasssss we love Emerie in this house. Underrated queen

But the scars on Emerie’s wings, proof that she’d never taste the wind again … Half of him wished that Proteus were still alive . If only so he could kill the male himself.

FUCK PROTEUS IM GLAD HE'S DEAD

FEYRE POV

"I don’t know if I can do this." Rhys was quiet for a moment. "Do you want me to come with you?" - "To paint?" - "I’d be an excellent nude model."

Rhys knew she would say no but I don't doubt for a second that he would have joined her and just watched her paint 😭

I frowned down at the canvas tucked under one arm, the box of paints cradled in the other . Frowned toward the studio thirty feet away, the shadows thick between me and that golden spill of light. "I know what I want to do."

Yas honey, I'm so proud of you

And paint. Not paint itself, but the smell of it. I breathed in deep, feeling it settle into my bones, letting the quiet of the space settle, too.

The way that the smell of paint calms Feyre down is adorable

I didn’t want to do this first painting in front of others. I could barely do it in front of myself. It was enough to drive away any guilt in regard to ignoring Ressina’s offer to join her. I’d made her no promises.

I feel lika porud mom

[azsazz]

The Rowdy Bunch

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon Request: I love your dad!az fics! They’re so good! How would he react if the reader was having a hard time with the kids? Like she’s angry and overwhelmed and the kids are being nuts haha

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,656

Notes: lol I know I just said I would post this on Wednesday but it's my bday today so I thought I'd give you all a little treat and post it instead. 🥰💙🥳

_________________________________________

“Baz, put that down!”

“Wren, Zuzu, no running in the house!”

“Jax, please stop crying, mommy’s holding the babes right now,” you plead to the two year old throwing a tantrum at your feet. Your hands are full with the twins – one of which you just got back to sleep – currently sitting contently in your arms, Malos peacefully snoozing and Knox staring up at you with wide, curious hazel eyes.

If they wake the napping daughter in your arms you’ll be in for a hell of a time.

Shutting your eyes for a minute you take a calming breath that doesn’t help in the slightest. You can’t drown out the screams and laughter of your children running around, Jax tugging at your skirts, begging to be held.

It wasn’t often that you were left to your own devices. Watching six children under the age of ten by yourself was no easy feat, even if they were well behaved most of the time. Usually when your mate was away he’d send reinforcements in the form of another member of his large family, but no such help arrived this morning when he stayed out longer and longer.

You’d tried sending a plea for assistance down the bond once Baz had woken up the rest of his siblings by jumping on their beds and yelling only a few minutes after Azriel had kissed you good morning with a promise of being back soon before he winnowed to the House of Wind for training.

There had been no answer. Either he’d been pulled away by Rhysand for a meeting or was in the thick of a spar with Cassian, you had no idea. The male usually answered right away by coming to your aid immediately or at least sending comfort down the bond to let you know he was on his way.

His lack of response doesn’t help the frustration you feel right now, your energetic children refusing to listen to you, vying for your attention.

You try not to think about what he could be doing as you take the twins to the extra cradle you keep in the living room, for times just like this. It helped to have another around the house, so you could be near the twins while you took care of things on the first floor like preparing meals or being with your other children.

“Mommy,” Baz says loudly, running up to you, Jax stumbling behind his older brother, still crying out for you, chubby hands reaching up. You’ve just placed the twins down, Knox occupied as he chews on his curled fist. It should occupy him for the time being.

“Yes Baz?” you ask, giving him your attention while you scoop up Jax, cradling him close to your chest and pressing kisses into his hair as you bounce him soothingly. His hands are clasped behind his back and he’s rocking back and forth on his heels, the face of pure innocence. This can’t be good.

“Can I please go play outside?” he juts his lower lip out, his little trick to get what he wants from Azriel. Your mate is strong, but he can’t resist a pouty face.

Too bad his father’s not here.

“Baz,” you sigh, soothing Jax in your arms. You’re so tempted to say yes, but he’d need supervision and you’re not about to move the twins again, having just put them down.

Maybe you should’ve taken Rhys up on borrowing Naula and Cerridwen for assistance.

“Can’t you wait until daddy gets home?” You ask, looking down at the little boy in front of you. Your frustration ebbs a little when the babe in your arms snuggles into you, resting his head on your chest with a content sigh. You can’t resist, laying your head atop of his for a snuggle.

Baz’s pouty mouth turns into a real frown, much more heartbreaking as his eyes cast to the floor, mumbling a soft yes. Zuzu runs past while Wren chases her, your little girl shrieking, drawing Baz’s attention who immediately joins in on the race while you cringe, glancing to the twins in their bassinet while Jax whines softly in your arms, his siblings loud voices disturbing his calmed state.

You hush them but it’s no use, they won’t listen, too hopped up on energy from their breakfast.

You try the bond again, sending a hot flash of your stress down the tether between you and Azriel. Your shoulders fall lax at the immediate response, a cold flash of guilt and then a warmth of promise.

He’s on his way.

An excited screech from Zuzu startles you as she catches a glimpse of her father landing in the backyard and everything that was just perfect goes wrong. Jax tightens his grip on you and you pray to the Mother that he doesn’t start crying but then Malos begins wailing from where she was so peacefully sleeping a few seconds ago and her older brother follows. Their howls echoing in your ears as your shoulders tense up.

Wren, Baz, and Zuzu are already at the back door as you step into the room, watching from the large window as two more Illyrians drop out of the sky, arms full with their own spawn.

Azriel’s hazel eyes lock on yours. He can feel your upset mood and he’s making his way towards the house as his children rush past him to see their cousins.

“I’m so sorry, Love,” he starts, and you just watch him with your jaw set because you can barely speak, you're so frazzled. He was supposed to be home hours ago to help you and now he’s showing up with two more children and their rowdy fathers? You don’t think you can take it.

He gently removes Jax from your arms, his shadows swirling around the babe, calming him quickly. You watch as he does so, a sting of jealousy washing over you like a wave, envious that he can calm your son so fast.

Your eyes flicker back to him and Azriel opens his mouth to say more but you’re already turning away from him, retreating into the living room to the still blubbering babe.

Reaching down to pick Malos up, your mate’s shadows wrap gently around your wrists, tugging them to a stop. You let out an exasperated sigh, eyes flicking up to your mate in a glare.

“Let me take care of her, please,” he begs because he can see how angry you are and he knows he’s in deep shit.

“You were supposed to be home hours ago,” you hiss quietly, all too aware of the children in the room.

“I know,” he admits, gaze falling to the floor in disappointment, “I’m sorry (Y/N), I just lost track of time.”

“And you didn’t answer my calls?” you cross your arms over your chest. Every cry of the babe in her bed has your chest aching to reach out to her, but you let Azriel handle it, setting Jax down on the couch to sleep while he tends to Malos, cuddling her to his chest and shushing her lightly. 

It makes your heart ache for a different reason.

“We were sparring,” he explains, rubbing Malos’ back, “And I know that’s no excuse. I should’ve come when you called. I didn’t realize how much I needed the fight and I got so lost in it that I blocked everything out and fell into my old ways.”

And you get that, you really do, but you needed help with the children and he wasn’t here.

“Please, (Y/N), forgive me,” he begs and when you look back up at him from the floor he’s got that pout that Baz had earlier, the exact one he got from Azriel.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes furiously. You sense your mate moving closer to you, reaching out to grasp you at the nape of your neck to pull you into his chest like your daughter who has seemed to settle a bit in her father’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers the mantra over and over between sweet kisses pressed into your hair.

You lean into him, breathing in deeply, the scent of him melting the frustrations off of you. You hug him tightly for a moment and revel in the silence, all of your children content at the moment.

“I forgive you,” you mumble into his shirt and he squeezes you in thanks. 

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off, Love? Take a bath, read, go shopping with the girls? Cass, Rhys, and I got the babes.”

“Yeah?” you look up at him, brows raised. You deserve it, after dealing with the rowdy bunch all morning, but you can’t help but feel a little guilty, they are your children after all.

“Yes,” he pecks you on the lips, “You do so much for this family and I was an ass this morning. You’ve more than earned it.”

You nod, mulling it over. “You were an ass this morning.”

You mate rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh that has your heart stammering in your chest. Still, after all of these years his beauty still manages to catch you by surprise.

“I’m sorry again,” he apologizes softly, brushing a thumb over your cheek, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“I know you will Az,” you give him a tired yet wicked smile. “I’m going to bathe and take a nap to start. I have a feeling I’ll be up all night with a handsome male in my bed, making this all up to me.”

You catch a whiff of your mate’s sweet arousal as you make way to the stairs, tossing him a grin over your shoulder as you do so, swaying your hips just a little bit more as you depart.

His lingering purr has you shivering, the promise of a loud night ahead.

[adelindschade]

A Thousand Affirmations ( A Thousand Cuts, Part 24)

An court divided cannot stand by itself. Nessian healing in the form of Cassian not making the same mistake twice.

Nesta had bested him home, comfortably lounged on the couch with new reading material. He slumped in, visibly exhausted, and collapsed on top of her.

“My Gods, you’re a brute,” she hoarsely remarked with a soft laugh. Her cheeriness did some – but not a lot – to dampen his bitter mood. She wiggled the novel out from between them and rolled her fingers over his back. “I suspect it went as expected.”

He could only muster a pitiful nod.

Rhys was furious. Feyre was furious. Most of the court temporarily banished.

He even pitied Mor. She was voted alongside Feyre, hoping that at least a child could survive and oust Ker from succession. Sure, it’d leave the court vulnerable, but Mor was optimistic that she’d be sound council and caretaker for the child. Rhys was infuriated that Mor would not see his reasoning, arguing that his absence would always leave chance to the most powerful – and Kier would be a contender, as well as a threat who’d levy his years of experience to usurp a mere babe.

Then Amren, who voted contingent with Rhys, crudely retorted that Mor simply found opportunity to be a mother if Feyre were to die in childbirth, and Rhys to follow shortly after due to their pact. In Amren’s words, their infant orphan for her to rear as her own – paying no heed to others like Elain, or even considering Nesta’s role as Feyre’s next of kin – as she assumed the role of adoptive mother.

Whatever solidarity Mor nurtured with Feyre in that damned meeting was spoiled by the suspicion of opportunity. Feyre held her stomach as she protected what she now perceived to be a spoil for Mor to take. Amren had no qualms about her own objections with heat solely dictated on Mor – turning on her with casual abandon – and Rhys reproached his cousin with scathing words, accusing her of self-interest and gratification.

Poor Mor had to endure the brunt of it and excused herself promptly rather than face the repercussions of her vote, not at all sparing a breath to refute Amren’s insidious accusation.

Amren held her own, unbothered by the betrayal Feyre felt, and justified her choice as the best course for the court – and condemning Rhys for his lack of foresight. She had no attachment to ‘it’ as she referred indifferently to the fetus, and accosted Feyre verbally for prioritizing poorly.

Cassian shook his head and said that he refused to partake. He insisted the last time he voted to take a female’s choice, he nearly lost his mate, and warned Rhys to learn from his mistakes. Feyre cast a shameful look down, paused in her fury, and pained by a bitter memory. Nesta’s unignorable absence emphasized the ache.

Azriel took his cue to follow Cassian’s sentiment, justifying that he was not comfortable voting on the life of his High Lady or her newborn. He could stomach partaking in such a tragedy.

Amren, with her wide mouth, remarked how his specialized trade was deciding which breath was someone’s last, and motioned to Truth-Teller hitched at his side. His duty was to the court – not to some parasite that threatened it’s stability. None of them could afford to be attached when the pressing issue of Feyre’s mortality impeded the court’s safety.

It was then Amren implied Azriel, with his craft, was best suited to cut it out, and left it at that as she gathered her goblet and drank in a mock-toast.

After that heavy pause which followed, Cassian was glad Nesta didn’t attend. She and Azriel would both fight over who got to strike Amren first.

With Cassian and Azriel vetoing, and Mor and Amren crossed – Feyre and Rhys were the deciding vote – and even then, it settled on a stalemate.

Elain would have been the tie breaker had Rhys not already announced she’d be unable to attend, having been prompted to Emissary for Autumn. The news shocked them. Cassian was quick to calculate that Rhys knew Elain would side with Feyre, despite their recent estrangement, and ensured that she would not tip the scales in Feyre’s favor regardless. Feyre’s anger at her sister was Rhys’ opportunity to dispatch her – and with Nesta refusing to abide by his whim, he had to make most of the other sister available.

Feyre was truly alone in her court of dreams and rushed out after Rhys observed they had made no progress whatsoever.

As Nesta said earlier that morning: he almost pitied Rhys – almost.

The result was catastrophic, and the fall out was worse than he could have envisioned. Cassian thought he spoke true and earnest, but his lack of decisive allegiance had costed him any trust Feyre was willing to extend. She was on the cusp of forgiveness for his withholding the turbulent nature of her pregnancy, contingent on his loyalty, but to speak for her would speak against Rhys, and he hated being pit against either.

Rhys was far less lenient in his punishment than Feyre who couldn’t stand to look at him. He was not stripped of his title, far too important to oust, but his invitation to Velaris was revoked until further notice. Not too much a punishment in his eyes – but Rhys wasn’t done yet. The worst was yet to be said.

Azriel’s lack of cooperation had be reprimanded with something gruesome. Rumors of insurrection had emboldened certain figures in Hewn City. Azriel would immediately go to dispatch them of information – and then their life. That would leave Illyria in Cassian’s hands and rely on the network Emerie and Nesta established which Gwyn oversaw, layered with her direct source within Lord Dion’s household. Azriel’s absence would cripple their efforts until Rhys saw reason Azriel was better placed back where their roots run deep.

Mor was given two options. Rhys’ was crueler. Hewn City would be her temporary residence, but Feyre was kinder in respect, but equally vindictive as she sought to punish the female she once saw as friend. Illyria would be assignment, implementing her military experience to assist with the females Emerie and Nesta had taken in tow.  Mor hated both places equally, but she’d rather be league with Cassian and Nesta than endure her father’s presence.

It was then Rhys delivered his most damning punishment – exchanging Mor for Nesta. He summoned his mate to keep Feyre company, and that Mor’s experience would be able to suffice for Nesta’s absence. Cassian saw red, fists already prepared to plant a good strike on his face to knock him out – and then he was interrupted by Feyre before he could make good on it.

Bold and defiant, his High Lady stood firm and challenged their High Lord herself with a matching snarl: summon Nesta yourself.

She bid him a nod – not to him specifically – but a message to relay to her sister. Thank you. I’m sorry. It seemed only Nesta would be spared from her anger.

Cassian took her cue to speak up as well, reminding Rhys what usually happened if one tried to force mates apart. A snarl accompanied the threat. He seconded Feyre’s approach, daring Rhys to do so at his own risk, and reminding him Nesta would have more than words to spare should he acquire the balls to beckon her himself.

Cassian surged ahead, eager to depart, with Azriel mumbling with some triumph how he’d love to see that happen – glancing at Rhys with some vindication. None of them would deliver her. They refused to do his dirty bidding much longer. Rhys looked ashen as the prospect, and Cassian was wondering if he’d see it through if he knew what would be in store.

If she could smite Beron to nothing but ash, what would she render Rhys if he dared to show his face and ask her to submit to his courtly demands? Cassian’s imagination ran as wild as Rhys’.

Mor had an hour to gathering her belongings as Cassian impatiently waited. Azriel departed but first, gave his brother a hug, and then in a deathly whisper, urged Cassian to look after Gwyn – to which the larger of the two Illyrians assured him that he’d do so anyhow without prompting. Nesta wouldn’t allow any harm to befall her and that brought an easier smile upon Azriel’s sullen features, somewhat comforted.

Feyre visited him at the foyer, though still simmering with anger, as she rightly should. Rhys had overrode her when it came to reprimanding Amren, but the latter had the good sense to make herself scarce. She left no trace and Cassian assumed she had returned to her residence, where Varian waited for a retelling.

There wasn’t much to say as Feyre relayed her apologies and appreciated Nesta’s support – and how she wished she had a chance to amend the damage done in the past, should Nesta be opened for that conversation, but she understood distance was something Nesta favored, and a request to be respected. Cassian simply nodded and bade his time as he waited for Mor to begrudgingly gather what she needed.

Unveiling the news to Nesta would be the hardest part. He understood the turbulence Mor caused and he had to be clear she would not be an obstruction.

“Good news or bad news?” he muffled into her breasts.

“Bad news,” she decided without hesitation.

“Mor is staying in Illyria.”

“Oh.”

“Good news: it wasn’t her choice, and she’s at your disposal,” he quickly amended. “Rhysland’s way of making amendments, providing reinforcement, and appeasing your temper – whether he admits it or not.”

“Those were not his words,” Nesta accused. Cassian could feel her eyes narrow.

“No,” he admitted honestly, “but they were Feyre’s.”

“Mor’s reassignment to Illyria was meant more to punish her than provide us relief,” Nesta sighed in dismay, seeing through the polite words Cassian put in place to assuage some of the impact.  “I’m guessing Rhys’ intervention did not go as planned.”

“Azriel and I refused to partake,” he spoke clearly as he raised his chin to address her. Their eyes met and she softened when she saw his exhaustion plainly. “Amren wanted to dispose of the fetus. Mor wanted to continue the pregnancy. Amren, being Amren, accused her of wanting to take the infant for herself after Feyre succumbed to her injuries, and then it all went to hell.”

“Elain?”

“You haven’t heard,” he surmised. He reflected back on the unopened letters. “Lucien left Night Court to return to Autumn per his brother’s behest. He’s been reinstated into the household. Rhys promoted Elain to fill the vacancy. She’s an emissary now and has been residing in Autumn.”

“So much has happened while I was away,” Nesta breathed in surprise. She blinked in utter disbelief. “I can’t imagine Elain was happy with the decision.”

“I wouldn’t know. Rhys was the one who decided, and Feyre made no objection at the time. It happened soon after she discovered what we were keeping from her. I suspect there’s a correlation. I might even propose Elain was the one to disclose it. That is the only reason I could fathom why Feyre would be so keen to send her away without warning. Rhys could have been one the propose it, too. I don’t know. Her absence is shrouded in mystery.”

If there was ever a reason to tear open those letters, now was good as time as ever. Perhaps Elain herself could shed light on what transpired behind doors.

“Good news?” Nesta bid.

“Mor is at your disposal,” Cassian assured. “She’s tasked to help with efforts to suppress the insurrection. She can train the females. Do as you wish with her. She can be an asset if you like. If you don’t care to deal with her, relegate her as Emerie’s burden, if you so wish. I won’t entertain her. Not in our home. Not on the field. This is punishment – and I’d like to see her utilized as a resource, too, when you two are done butting heads.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. He sighed as he realized he made an error with his words.

“Spar it out if need be but focus on what’s important,” he reminded. His arms squeezed around her feeble waist. He hoped it was reassuring enough. “You will always come first, and I don’t know how else to prove it to you. If throwing Mor at your mercy doesn’t make a difference, I don’t know what will, but you two are important to me – it just so happens you rank higher, and I want that make that abundantly clear to both of you.”

“Where will she stay?”

“Rhys has provided lodgings. She is to be isolated and sober. I can’t imagine a worse kind of confinement. During the day, she is to be your aid. I’m well aware Emerie has a backlog of orders, but Corinne is capable enough after shadowing you two. I need you to oversee camp preparations during the week and group trainings during the weekends.”

“Is this the General’s decree?” she gauged with unhindered scrutiny.

“The High Lords, and I will see it through,” he adopted his tone of authority. “Petty grudges aside, we all have the same goal, and we need look past our differences to make it happen.”

“Of course, commander,” she laced with disdain.

“Don’t, Nes. Please.” He begged, mellowing. He burrowed into her chest, doing everything in his power to keep intertwined. “This isn’t ideal for me either. Rhys threatened to summon you back to Velaris. He was going to separate us. He reasoned if he was denied time with his mate, he had no qualms severing ours. I doubt he’ll see it through but he’s intolerable at the moment.”

“At the moment?” she repeated gruffly.

“Nes,” he groaned, desperate. “Can’t you reason that if I have to deal with Devlon, you can manage with Mor? Surely you can find a way to make it worthwhile.”

“I’m being pulled away from my work to act on Rhys’ orders. May I remind you I am a private citizen, no longer a part of his court by choice.”

“You also want to aid this camp in an effort to make it something more,” Cassian countered, adopting a tone to avoid an argument. Soft, pleading – emphasis on rational – and far from reactionary. “Mor is capable of being useful if you make her so. I’m relegating her to you, not just to see if you can mend your differences, but because I firmly believe in your vision, and I will not oppose your methods to manifest them, even if Mor complains.”

“I’m not her. I won’t be cruel,” Nesta sneered. “I can keep my reservations to myself. She just needs to keep out of my way. She’ll be Emerie’s problem.”

He groaned. Gods help him. That was an ocean he dreaded crossing – if it was even feasible to do so.

If he expected to be intimate that night, or to the extend Nes and he compromised on, it he was sorely mistaken, and that made them both agitated and bitter by morning’s light. Mor was anxiously waiting on their doorstep, dressed in thick grey wool that did not suit her polished features.

Prior to this, Mor would have barged in and made herself at home. Since Nesta had been admitted into his house with the declaration it was hers just as much as it was his own, Mor had taken precautions to not impede. It was startling to see the difference in her confidence, weighing just how much had altered when last solstice she was so quick to cut her words with intent to mar. Now, she dared not tread where Nesta resided, afraid of provoking a response.

Cassian wasn’t sure if he was responsible or if Nesta had earned that respect herself. Perhaps it was Mor’s humility and desperation that stemmed from her recent ousting. Words and actions had consequences, and now Mor was learning to bite hers.

“I do not know how I will fit so much ego in one room,” Nesta gritted her teeth. She bid Mor no greeted and rather trudged ahead with more grit in her step. “Emerie will kill her.”

“So would you,” Cassian shrugged, gesturing the blonde to follow. “It was your choice to gift her to your partner in crime.”

“It was your order I designate my time to single handedly construct a camp into a functional one,” she growled but did not send him away. They strode shoulder to shoulder. “I’m better apt as mending attire than I am planning a fucking city.”

“You’re making such progress with the postal office though,” Cassian charged confidently. “Are you sure you’d rather deposit Mor at the shop? Maybe you ought to showcase what you learned so far with your magic. She’ll be impressed.”

“And squeal like a pig to Amren, and then to Rhys, and next thing I know, I’m being called upon to like Azriel to deal with their inconveniences or locked up for being a threat worthy of incarceration,” she seethed.

“I won’t,” Mor interjected, appalled.

She was looking at Cassian for support. Her eyes were wide, no longer blotchy from crying, and Cassian swore she was trying to put her best foot forward to get back in Rhys and Feyre’s good graces. Anything to get her out of this shit hole.

Nesta was going to say something but opted to flare her hands up, done with the transaction altogether, and abandoning them in her tracks.

“Without Az, you will need help. Don’t be too proud to deny it,” Cassian reasoned, quickly catching up with the hasty female. “Emerie has Corinne. You have Mor. You don’t have to make your job harder than it needs to be.”

Nesta paused and pinched her nose.

“Don’t even think about winnowing! We’re talking this out – just as we agreed. No arguing, just... talking. Please, Nes? Try it before you make up your mind.” He lowered his volume. Their proximity in front of someone beside a mutual friend would – or should – have unnerved her but Cassian found it as an opportunity to make his point: he was done concealing their bond or hiding his affections. He needed to prove that in front of Mor above all else.

“This is your project. It’s ours, yes, but this is your lead – and you should see it through,” he murmured, pulling her close enough for their noses to graze. “Az and I are willing to help but never forget this was something you and Emerie concocted. We’re doing all we can to pull in the resources to make it come to fruition.”

He had to sweeten the pot as he spied reservation in her eyes.

“I’ll make us dinner. Just us two. Tomorrow, we’ll invite Gwyn and Emerie, and Corinne, too, because I know Gwyn is probably upset over Az being away. Tonight, however, it’s going to be you, and me, in between the sheets with a good book, and some maps, and then…” he drifted off, shrugging loosely as he hoped her mind wandered to the same territory his did. “Quality time,” he promised, bending to touch foreheads. “However you want it.”

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her so badly. She had to let him know if he could. He wouldn’t force it. He wouldn’t put her on spot.

“Okay,” she replied no louder than a whisper. Her eyes softened and lowered. Shyness wasn’t something he’d known her for.

“That’s all I’ll think about tonight,” he murmured, brushing against her lips but not quite making contact. “Tell me what you want, and I’m yours.”

She closed the distance, but the kiss was too short. Chaste and no more than a peck really. Her eyes fluttered to Mor. He expected more possessive – he’d like more possessiveness really. He wanted Nesta to claim him, let the world know she marked him as hers, and no one else would suffice. He was finally feeling firsthand the slight of getting an ounce of what he desired, what she must have endured when he dropped her hand in that tent, and his stomach churned with nastiness.

He was an idiot. The biggest one in Illyria and beyond.

He swung his arm around her waist and pulled her close again as she tried to proceed ahead. Chest to chest, that’s how they remained. It felt like he shut the world out. The only thing he recognize was Nesta. Everything else didn’t exist.

“You can do better than that,” he pouted. Make me yours. Stake your claim. Don’t hesitate. Please don’t make the same mistake I did. When she stared blankly, unsure how to process his unsaid request, he sighed and decided he’d have to make amends for the last time and took charge.

Nesta squeaked when he planted one firmly on her lips. Her hands froze in the air as her mind short-circuited. He did not release her. Slowly, her eyes closed, and she leaned into the kiss but not in the same reckless abandon he did. She was gentle and sensual, the kind of romantic he would envision in her many, smutty books; he was the brute that took without consequence and dominated, and that’s what he did when his tongue ghosted over her lips, asking for entrance.

She pulled away and her eyes were dark.

“Not now,” she pushed his face away with a finger. He whined and requisitioned her hand. She did not fight it, and his chilled hand felt immensely warmer.

“Later?” he asked.

“You promised quality time, didn’t you?” she teased. There was that damned smile he longed to see. The jesting words, too. He didn’t even acknowledge the disgust on Mor’s face as they treaded along, hand-in-hand. He was grinning like a fool, bumping shoulders to rouse a reaction, and she called him an brute when it was barely a brush.

They were a unit. An separable pair. A team in every capacity. That’s how he wished it to be.