#well now we know where cassian's love of jackets comes from

[andorerso]

And then the jacket had to be worn in Jordan at 45 degrees Celsius. I mean, it was impossible to wear it.

HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN and DIEGO LUNA on Actors on Actors

[utterlyotterlyx]

The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Seven

Summary - Your feelings for Eris are confronted and you make a choice that is sure to break you.

Warnings - angst, fluff, depression, betrayal, sadness, more angst

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

Velaris hadn't been the same since you had left.

The entire population was scrutinizing the Inner Circle and the beast they called their High Lord who was doing his best to convince his people that you weren't well and had chosen to heal in the company of the realms best healers in Dawn.

No one believed it.

Rhys was pacing about the study, walking the length of it before turning on his heels and following the wall back to the other side whilst Cassian and Azriel stood before him, clammy palms and pale faces as the throbbing power of Rhys threatened to consume them.

It had been a back and forth conflict that had lasted for days, the words thrown had become so intense that Feyre had deigned to move herself and Nyx to the House of Wind. The main consensus was that a war with Autumn would be devastating to all involved, but Rhys had lost his mind for long enough to be void of the capability to see any reason.

All he wanted was his sister back in his court, safe and warm and protected, where her power wouldn't threaten anyone into daring to know more.

"She'll come back," Azriel's voice cut through the haze, his voice was sure but quaking, and Rhys halted his movements, approaching the desk and taking a seat.

Their High Lord was a shell of himself, a wild glare had consumed his dark eyes, none of them could remember the last time he had smiled or joked, all he did was speak of you, of how to get you back.

"Did your shadows tell you something?"

Azriel shuffled in his seat, dreading what he had to say, for his brother didn't know the exact details of what occurred with you at the boarder of Winter and Autumn, "No," he cleared his throat, "You threatened Elain, Lucien, and Eris," he gulped, "And Nesta."

Cassian hadn't been doing well without her, he hardly slept or ate, and he flinched with pain more often than not due to the bond being so weak and brittle, close to extinction. Their shared brother snapped his head in their direction, his gaze wide as it moved between Rhys and Azriel, both of which kept some vital information from him.

The Shadowsinger continued, "You know that y/n would never put anyone in harms way, she would never risk the lives of the people she loves most," he wasn't sure if he was included in that list anymore, "She just wants to be free. I beg you to think of a different way to establish peace."

Rhys rolled his eyes, bored of the same words, "You saw what she can do now," he leaned forward in the chair and the stars panicked in response, blinking quickly, some even vanished from the sky entirely.

Neither of them could escape the image of those licks of blame flame curling up your fingers and forearm, they couldn't escape the coldness in your glare, and Azriel in particular couldn't escape the flash of pain that shot through your face when he had taken a step back from you.

"Even then, does it mean that we need to go to war? We've barely recovered from Hybern and Koschei as it is, our armies will perish-"

"You can both leave," Rhys drawled, uninterested, bored even, as he picked a threat from his suit jacket and let it float to the floor, "Start preparing our armies, Cass." A stiff nod from Cassian acted as his reply, he rose from his seat, eyes still wide and white knuckles gleaming in the moonlight.

Come home, or I will make sure that you are left with nothing.

Nothing.

The faint scent of cinnamon kissed the air, meaning that Eris was home, and the more intense it grew the more it became clear that he was searching for you as he always did when he returned to the manor. All he had to do was follow the aroma of you, the one scent that he would bottle up if he could just so your scent could drown his clothes and senses.

“Hello Fawn,” he called to you, his voice purred with adoration, and your spine tingled at the sensation of it. As quickly as he spoke the words, Eris frowned, noting the blank stare you held at whatever held your attention beyond the window.

Night had fallen upon Autumn, the sky held the last few flickers of light as dark purple licked the sky and faded to black.

The exhaustion was clear on your face as he fell to your side, his arm brushing against your own as though he was reminding you of where you were. Not Night. Autumn.

Eris had believed that he was making some headway with you, but after Rhys, it felt like you had constructed a dam of steel around your mind. Cold and unimpeachable. It was warranted, but dangerous, and Eris noticed you retreating into yourself more every passing moment.

“What’s wrong?”

Turning to face him, you etched his face to memory, whisky amber eyes full of worry, tight lips, messy red hair that fell past his ears; he had left in a rush that morning, negating to properly style his hair which meant that it was messy but too alluring to pay attention to. He was dressed in ivory briefs and a white shirt, a red waistcoat and jacket both adorned with vines of gold.

A High Lord if you ever did see one.

All you wanted to do was reach out and push a strand behind his ear, to graze his cheekbone with your fingers. But you couldn’t. If there was any chance of Rhys finding out of how much Eris meant to you then he would surely ensure the most brutal punishment possible.

A serene but forced smile consumed your lips, lips that were chapped and broken from the bouts of anxiety that crashed down on you, “Nothing,” you told him, eyes flickering. Shaking your head, you explained, “Nesta was a bit brutal with training today but it’s fine.”

That’s right. Eris had been too busy that day to train with you, you had both been enjoying your sessions grappling with the carranam powers you had discovered, but Eris hadn’t had the time, which meant that Nesta was keeping her eye on you.

The stare didn’t relent but you didn’t shrink under it, you’d never shrink yourself for anyone ever again, so you turned back to peer out of the cloudy glass, “How can I make it better?”

Tension fizzled, Eris took your hands in his, stroking his thumb over the soft surface and resting on your pulse, “Train with me tomorrow.”

Eris smirked, “Done.”

Faint cricket song creaked through the open window, the low beating glow of the fireflies allowed you to see the pond rippling beyond the glass panes that were doing their best to keep the cold from seeping into your bones. Moments had flickered where you seemed unsure, moments where your mind was reeling, trying to figure out what was the next best step not only for you, but your people.

For Eris.

Oddly enough, it had been Elain who would come to your room at night, or Lucien; Nesta knew when to leave you alone and Eris didn't like imposing on your space, but Elain and Lucien, together or separate, seemed to know what you needed more than yourself.

Elain would bring an assortment of baked goods, she'd perch them on the edge of the bed and climb atop the comforter to wedge herself beside you; she wouldn't talk, she would simply listen and occasionally chirp soft advise whilst those pastries loosened your lips. Lucien however was much more straightforward, he would burst into your room no matter the time, he knew you'd be awake regardless, he'd say that he could feel your thoughts pulsing about the manor, uneasy and painful, and he would come to you to make you smile.

Much like how Cassian used to.

The soft patter of rain sounded beyond the threshold, the scent of it made you close your eyes and smile, inhaling the newly damp earth of Autumn, "Talk to me," Eris' fingers reached for you, curling a strand of your hair around them and pushing it behind your pointed ear; his fingers continued to travel, hooking beneath your chin and gently tugging your gaze to his, "You haven't been yourself."

Eris towered over you, his breath crept along your cheeks as thunder cracked in the distance, a flash of lightening snapped across the sky, "How can I be?"

It wasn't supposed to be painful, pushing people away, but it was tearing your soul apart. In some way, you'd much rather be alone for the rest of your long life than risk anything ever happening to anyone you loved. Rhys was determined to take you, Eris was determined to not allow it, and you were determined to save them from ruin.

Sighing, you unwound the blockade around your heart, feeling it strain and groan as you gave it space to breathe, "I don't know what I'm supposed to do," Eris watched your eyes glaze over, he watched that ring of fire dim, he watched as your bottom lip wobbled as you spoke, "I'm tired, Eris."

The High Lord figured as much, the bags that clung to your undereye grew larger each day, he had asked you multiple times if you wanted to talk, but you had denied it, you had been too focused in removing yourself physically so that if you really did then it wouldn't hurt as much.

I'm tired, Eris.

Those three words told him everything he needed to know. You were tired of life, you were tired of the betrayal and the lies, you were tired of the small voices in your mind telling you that you weren't worthy of anything good because how could any good being be used by the people who was meant to love and protect them?

Cracking walls allowed the storm to seep in, and Eris had been expecting it for awhile, he had monitored your anxious actions and sleuthing, he knew that the walls were due to collapse.

"Oh gods," your hand pressed on your stomach, leaving his own palm suddenly cold, you were trying to alleviate the pain dwelling inside of you like a demon, "How could they do this?"

The mere image of your face crumpling had Eris wrapping you into his arms as the last few weeks tore through the abyss toward you, clawing at the confinements you had locked them in. Sobs bubbled through your lips and Eris felt your tears soak through the cotton of his shirt, and all he could do was allow you to go through the motions. It was better to be held in your darkest hour than battle it alone. If all Eris could offer you was his shoulder and gentle caresses, then he would spend the rest of his life making sure he was there to lend them to you.

You had spent the last couple of days playing the memories of your life in your mind, ignoring the blank spots hidden within them, you were trying to figure out what exactly had been a lie, or what you could have done to deserve a life of chains and steel.

"My entire life is tainted now, I don't know what was real anymore. The bargain with Azriel, the shopping trips with Mor, researching with Amren and training with Cassian, painting with Feyre," you paused, "Even Rhys, when did he decide that I was better off locked away? When did he decide that it was best to spread stories of the monster of Velaris rather than the stories of his sister?"

The fond memories of dancing in Rita's until sunrise with Mor and Cassian had turned to ash alongside the moments you had spent with every member of your false family.

Eris ran his fingers through your hair, his fingertips grazing across your scalp, he knew you loved the feeling, and his chest rumbled as he spoke, "Do not fear the storm, y/n," his lips lingered just by your ear and you could faintly feel the parting as he spoke against the shell, "You are learning how to sail your ship. You will get through this, we'll get through it all, together," he pulled away from you but still held you in his arms, the flash of lightening slicing across his face, moulding with the light of the dancing flames dotted about the space in the form of tealights and lanterns hanging from the ceiling, "Just for now. Find a corner of your soul that feels good. And rest there."

Feeling seen and heard felt so foreign to you, but in Autumn, with Eris, you felt alive. Autumn had wrapped her doting arms around you and used her embrace to will you back to life, she willed you to find joy and passion, and perhaps even love.

Perhaps the Mother had sent Autumn to you to lead you to a life that would be worth all of the pain and loneliness. Peering up at Eris, you admired his beauty, the sharp but rugged look, the amber whisky eyes that reminded you of molten bronze, his stupidly perfect hair that Nesta told you constantly was something from novels, "Thank you, for making me feel alive."

Eris sucked in a breath and the candles burned brighter, their light covering the ceiling, "Thank you for making me believe that I'm worthy of being happy."

Extending your fingers over his chest, right above his heart, you frowned and asked, "You aren't happy?"

"I wasn't, but then you came, and now I am."

The smile on your face was radiant, soft and gentle, full of understanding, "We only have one life in this world, Eris. That's reason enough to stop holding back," silent permission sang to him and he rested his hands on the curve of your hips.

The demon within you didn't scare him, what Nesta had told him didn't scare him, nothing about you brought him any form of discomfort or doubt.

"I didn't stop thinking about you after I saw you Under The Mountain, you were humming a song that felt so familiar, your voice was so weak but so enchanting," he recounted, "I remember the light finding you like it always has, I remember the vacant look in your eye and the scuffle of your bare and bloody feet on the ground," Eris cupped your face in his hands, and your fingers drifted around his wrists, "That image haunts me, but that song, that beautifully awful thing has been the only thing to bring me any sort of peace since that place." Since Amarantha and Under The Mountain, "I saw you like I do now, wounded and hurting in so many ways, and I swore to myself that if I ever had the chance, that I would make sure it never happened again."

"The war against Hybern was won because of you, I saw you on that battlefield wielding that sword like it was an extension of yourself, you had rose from the ashes of Amarantha herself and tilted the scales in our favour," a gentle amused huff passed through your lips, "Then you aided me, you risked everything for my vision because you believed in it, because you believe in a better world for everyone, not just your own people. And then you came to me for help, because somewhere deep inside of you, you knew you'd be safe here, with me. And that night, on that balcony of the Day Court, for the first time, I saw you and I didn't just want to have you, but I wanted to deserve you. I asked the Mother for you, despite feeling undeserving, feeling disrespectful for ever thinking of it. Instead, I prayed to her to make me worthy of you."

Eris' molten bronze gaze was trying to tell you something, but you couldn't quite figure it out, not when he was looking at your lips like that, not when every fibre of your being was needing to mould itself inside of him.

"Do you know what the song is?"

Shaking his head, Eris muttered a small 'no', so you told him, "It's the song of your ancestors, the Symphony of Ash. I knew that it must have been awful to see me like that and you always used to say that you liked my voice, and I just thought that you could use a lullaby."

All air rushed from his lungs. You knew that he was watching you that night, and that song, that beautifully horrid thing, was for him. So that even if his nightmares kept him awake, you voice would lull him back to slumber, a song from his court that you had learned.

Even in the moments when you were worlds apart, strangers almost, you had still cared enough to spare him a thought of comfort in the days that weren't so bright for him either despite your own torture.

"That was for me?"

A delicate hum sounded from your throat, "Take it as a gift from one former betrothed to another."

"Former betrothed?"

Frowning, you pulled back slightly, but that frown soon turned to wonder, "You don't remember?" The blank look in his eye confirmed it, "We were supposed to get married before, well, I was locked away and you were directed to Mor. It was meant to be me and you."

"I remember our parents talking of it when we were children, but I didn't realise that it was ever real."

"It was very real."

Eris felt his soul burn, he felt your fingers curl around it, he felt your darkness kiss his fire, and he shuddered at the singing of his essence, "Me and you?"

"Us."

"Can I kiss you?"

You shouldn't. You couldn't. It would make what you had to do even harder. But it was Eris, it was his eyes and lips, his softness and adoration, it was the small boy you had grown up looking out for always without him even knowing it.

Swallowing hard, you moved closer to him, feeling electric as his fingers curled around the curve of your jaw, "Yes."

Eris lowered his lips to yours an he hovered there for a moment, preparing himself for the moment he had always desired, with the woman he couldn't get out of his mind. His lips were soft against yours, it was like kissing the sun, it was soul-consuming and scorching; his lips moved with yours as his hands ran down your spine to rest on the small of your back, pressing you further into him and slipping his tongue into your mouth when you broke for a moment to breathe.

It was a feeling you wanted to bask in forever, you felt light curl around you, you felt his warmth wrap you up in its embrace, you felt his lips on yours and his nose brushing against the tip of your own.

Fisting your fingers through his hair, you used his shoulders for leverage as he placed you on the countertop, your hands delved into his jacket and ran down his chest, and his gripped the skin of your thighs. Reluctantly, Eris paused before it went any further, exhaling deeply whilst resting his forehead against your own, "As much as I want to make you mine," his eyes delved into your own, "Our first time together deserves to be magical, and alone."

"Too right."

Freezing in position, you turned your head to find Lucien stood in the doorway, shirtless with his hand covering his eyes, peeking at you through his fingers. Eris threw his head back and groaned, cradling your head to his chest to hide your clear embarrassment from Lucien finding you both in a compromising position.

"I'm not judging," Lucien teased, "I just didn't expect to come in here to see you two with your tongues down each other's throats."

"Stop talking," you squeaked, cringing at his booming laugh, you blocked out the words from Eris, and instead waited until he scooped you into his arms, continuing to hide you from Lucien as he carried you upstairs and nestled into the bed with you.

Eris was bare bar his undergarments, his scarred chest shone in the firelight and you found yourself tracing the swirls idly whilst he pressed kisses into your hairline, allowing his thumb to stroke against your cheek.

"Tomorrow we'll figure out how to put a stop to this," he sounded so sure, but you knew he was scared, he held you a touch tighter as he spoke, "And then we'll live the life that we want to live."

His optimism was wounding.

Rhys was never going to stop, you knew him well enough to know that once he wanted something he would never halt his efforts to claim it.

After hours of serene chatter, you kissed Eris and told him to rest. As the firelight flickered to lifeless ash, when you knew that Eris was sound asleep and dreaming of you, you slipped from the bed.

Elain stood before the oven with a faint smile on her lips, excited to prod you with questions after what Lucien had so luckily found the night before.

Simmering sun poured through the windows, the storm had broke and the sun shone overhead, cascading her heavenly glow across the grass, caressing her animals as her light spread over Autumn. Birdsong chirped through the slightly ajar window, but Elain's smile had drifted, and her eyes had turned a milky white.

Night. Stars. Snow-capped mountains. A grey dress fit for a princess floating along the Sidra.

Gasping, Elain inhaled, she engulfed the air in her lungs, trying to locate you within it. But there was nothing there.

The shatter of the glass bowl in her hands was enough to cause both Nesta and Lucien to rush into the room, poised to attack, but faltering when they saw the wild look in Elain's eye, "Have you seen y/n? I had a vision."

"What vision, Elain?" Nesta approached Elain tentatively, her palms outstretched to connect with her sisters arms.

Elain gripped onto Nesta, "Of snow-capped mountains and a sky full of stars, of the dress she wore to Helion's party the day she denounced the Night Court drifting along the Sidra. I heard her crying."

Nesta snapped her gaze to Lucien, gasping when she saw Eris stood behind him, his gaze low and pulsating with fire as his chest rose and fell so fast that Nesta thought his heart would stop beating entirely. The room became hot, too hot, swelteringly so, and Eris brushed against Lucien as he approached the two Archeron sisters.

Placing his palms on the countertop, the same one where only hours before he was holding you and meeting your confessions with his own, Eris growled, low, and possessive, "Where is my mate?"

Author's Note

I am burning rn.

Taglist

@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielsmate3 @ivy-34 @mp-littlebit @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @ifonlyiwerefiction @pirana10 @donttellthecats @padbaeamidla @oucereeng @andreperez11 @demonicbusiness @megscabinetofcurios @superspideyparker

[im-poe-dameron]

ASTERISM

➛ 03. A NEW PURPOSE

a/n: it's been awhile since i've attempted to write for this fic. and honestly some of the star wars stuff i write goes unfinished. but i'm rewatching andor and realized how much i actually love this story. so hopefully i will find the drive to sit down and write the remaining few chapters. this one was supposed to be longer, but i split it cause i didn't want it to drag on.

summary: escaping from the empire was going well. which gave you hope for a future, hope that you might one day join cassian in the rebellion. but like everything else you'd endured...things always inevitably fall apart.

word count: 5.6k+

pairing: cassian andor x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, cussing, angst, stalking courtesy of the fucking empire, some emotional conversations, a bit of fluff, some comradery before we get into the real shitshow of angst to come.

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Vonn kicking your boot is what jolted you awake, the faint scent of something burning immediately overtaking your senses. But even you had to admit it was a slow process, sitting up fully and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. If you had the chance you’d steal a few more hours, simply because last night was hardly enough. What with the echoes of the forest waking you up more often than you would have liked. Cassian being pressed to your back and his jacket spread out and covering both of you is what kept you falling back into a slumber.

“I made food,” he said, his blue hair in disarray from a restless sleep as well.

If he was being honest, he hadn’t gotten a proper night's sleep in months—the exhaustion taking a toll on him far more than he expected. You could see it in the red of his eyes, the way his smile never reached them anymore. The boyish charm from before had dampened with the extremity of war.

“Does it taste any good?” you asked, stumbling to your feet and catching sight of Cassian. He walked out from the thicket of trees, his jacket in one hand and blaster in the other. You assumed that he went for a morning walk—attempting to find peace in the madness that was hiding out from the Empire.

Vonn shrugged, biting into the piece of meat. “It’ll do for now.”

You knew that meant it tasted as disgusting as the liquor you stole from the outdoor market one year, but there were no other options. Not when you were relatively in the middle of nowhere. Although that in itself held no truth to it.

Saying you were in the middle of nowhere was the same as saying you were lost on the pathway home. You weren’t nowhere. You sat here in the middle of a forest you’d known all your life—fearful of its intimidating nature—and with that brought a sense of familiarity to it. Trees stretched on for miles and grew so close together that seeing through them took years of practice. They were a never-ending blanket of cover for both you and Vonn.

Grimacing at the bitter taste of the charred meat, you forced it down. Filling your stomach was the first priority. You’d worry about the rest later when the time came to actually focus on it.

Cassian grabbed a piece of meat off the makeshift tray that Vonn somehow created out of a large piece of bark. You had half a mind to warn him that it wasn’t up to par with what the Rebellion might be feeding him, but his smile silenced you. He sat on the ground beside you, close enough to be considered intimate, but far enough away where Vonn wouldn’t suspect anything.

You found that you liked this. Holding a small secret of what your feelings might be towards him. Though you didn’t know one another well enough to call it anything other than contentment, you knew that this stemmed from more than just the act of you saving his life. You found a piece of yourself in Cassian that you thought had gone missing.

Perhaps he saw the same in you.

“How did you sleep?” He asked it with a brief pause in his voice, his eyes darting from the now dead fire to your face.

“Okay,” you replied, chewing thoughtfully. “How about you?”

“No nightmares. Good enough for me.”

The understanding of fighting against nightmares struck your heart as you watched him rip the piece of meat apart slowly with his fingers. You wondered if he’d been a part of the Rebellion longer than Vonn, if he’d seen things—done things—he could never take back. If the want to do so plagued him.

The horrors of war hung over his head like a dark cloud, reminding you of who he was.

“Do you usually have nightmares?” You didn’t intend to ask him that, but the words came free before you had a chance to wrangle them back into your mouth.

“More than I want.” He nodded, biting hastily into the meat and wincing as the taste settled on his tongue.

Maybe you should have warned him after all. You blamed it on the fact that he distracted you—although even you knew you were thrown off by the kindness he showed towards you. Was it the feeling of guilt that did it? Did he feel bad that he tried to kill you? Or was there possibly a hint of friendship beneath the layers of survival you both were forced into.

There was no time to care for someone else when you were running for your lives. No spare moments you could steal.

Possibly in another life, in a different time, things might have turned out differently. Cassian might have been a man you met on a whim, a man who you could build a life with. You absurdly hoped he still would be. However, the tragedy of it all stared you in the face—blatantly telling you that any hope of love, any hope of peace, was no longer a possibility. It never would be.

You chose the path you now walked and it led you straight to war. While it had always been one you wanted either way, you still liked to believe that maybe one day you’d finally gain a semblance of that peace you wanted so dearly.

“We’ve got a few more days of travel ahead of us,” Vonn called from where K’uscasi was eating. “I’d recommend rebuilding the fire and finding some more food to take with us.”

It was the smart choice out of everything. You had to hand it to Vonn, he knew how to survive when things went south. How long had he been doing this? You wondered if this was all The Rebellion consisted of. Simply attempting to make it out alive from wherever you were; yet not even that became a guarantee in the end. You’d heard the horror stories—knew what happened to people who truly believed in the cause.

To live at the end of a war was to be the bearer of memories no one wished to carry.

Destined to be the storyteller of a time still ingrained in the very depths of your mind. Forced to relive it all repeatedly until even you saw the end of your time.

You found that that was more of a punishment than death—a reminder of the things you’d done in order to once more possess the freedom you sought out. How horrid things must be in order to stay alive, to stay sane. You, like everyone else, craved freedom, but at what price? What was freedom worth? Watching as Vonn worked to collect wood with Cassain in tow, the masks they wore barely letting slip how exhausted they must be, it finally dawned on you.

Freedom was worth everything you had to give and more.

It was the price of your death and the liberty of your life.

“What should I do?”

Vonn gestured to the woods behind you. “Find us some decent pieces of wood. Everything here is damp from the morning dew.”

The chill in the air was beginning to fade as the sun rose over the treeline. Eventually it would be time to start moving again, but for now you welcomed the small bit of peace you managed to get. Even if it meant at the risk of being caught by the Empire. While you lived alone for most of your life, peace was not easy to come by. There was the constant threat of something going wrong and even as you got older the threat never truly disappeared.

It just became something you learned to live with.

The silence of the forest was unnerving at times, especially at night, but you grew to favor the quiet. It gave you time to get lost in your own thoughts. Which is precisely what you did while you gathered pieces of wood here and there as you walked further and further away from where Vonn and Cassian were. In all honesty you weren’t even thinking about where you were going. You were simply walking to walk. A luxury you hadn’t had in awhile.

A twig snapping nearby caught your attention. You hadn’t taken a step heavy enough to break a twig. Standing straight, you turned slowly in the hopes that Cassian had followed you out here to help, but the flash of white in the distance sent a chill down your spine. Your stomach twisted at the sight of a stormtrooper standing far enough away to not see you, but still close enough for you to see them clear as day.

Exhaling slowly, you began to shift back towards the thicker part of the forest, forcing your steps to be as light as possible. If they saw you that was it. There was nowhere you could run fast enough to get out of range from their blasters. Cassian and Vonn were too far away to hear you scream for them, which meant you were entirely on your own. The blaster you brought was strapped tightly to your thigh, the weapon a small comfort to your situation.

You dropped the wood at the base of a tree. If the stormtroopers went on their way you might be able to come back for it. But that wasn’t your main priority now.

The smell of rain was thick in the air, the cold burning your nostrils with each quick breath you took, and you rushed to get back to the clearing. Yanking your hood up, you hoped that would help to conceal you a bit more. Although at this point you were praying for a miracle. You had no idea how long they’d been tracking you, let alone how they were able to do so in the dense forest, but you knew it must have taken them all night.

You caught sight of the clearing in the near distance and began to sprint, pushing yourself until your legs burned from the exertion. Something echoed behind you; what sounded like a speeder. If they didn’t know you were there before, they would soon, and you felt the breath catch in your lungs at the thought. You wouldn’t be caught by them. Not after everything that happened. You finally held your own life in the palm of your hands and you refused to have it taken from you in an instant.

They wouldn’t steal more of you—not now, not ever.

“We have to go!” you called, skidding to a halt and nearly ramming into Cassian as you finally managed to stop. Falling forward, you braced yourself on your knees as you heaved in lungfuls of air—the pain causing you to wince with every breath.

“What are you talking about?” Cassian asked, bending down to push the hood away from your face in order to check on your wellbeing. You tried to smile at him to prove that you were okay, but it came out as a grimace, another round of pain wracking your body.

“Troopers,” you gasped, pointing to where you came from. “They tracked us. Probably all night.”

“Fuck,” Vonn spit, yanking his bag over his shoulder and throwing dirt on the fire. “Get your things. We’re leaving.”

Without another word, you grabbed onto what you could carry, following Cassian to the speeder and climbing onto the back of it as he started it up. You knew that leaving at a moment’s notice was a natural part of being in the Rebellion, but that never stopped the bittersweet feeling from rising up in your chest. 

You’d never have another permanent home—never have a place that you could call your own. Yet that was the cost of your freedom; the price you had to pay to fight for something bigger than you.

The loud sputtering of the engine echoing off the trees, surely captured the attention of the stormtroopers. It wouldn’t take them long to arrive, but hopefully by then the three of you would be long gone. Vonn took the lead this time, pushing K’uscasi into a sprint as smoke from the now extinguished fire filled the clearing.

At least that would cover your tracks well enough.

“Don’t worry!” you shouted over the noise of the speeder. “He knows where he’s going.”

The words were said more on your behalf than on his. A way to appease the growing fear and anxiety that gnawed at your insides like an animal attempting to tear away meat from bone. You were scared, but Cassian’s words from last night echoed in the back of your mind. Turn the fear into some semblance of hope. Make it work in your favor and hope that you would finally find a way off this planet. A way to the life you so desperately craved.

Vonn veered sharply to the right, nearly causing you to tilt off the speeder as Cassian did his best to follow. You knew the tactic he was currently trying. Change the direction of the path every few minutes to keep them off your scent. Thankfully K’uscasi was large enough to leap further and further away from the path she originally was on. It wasn’t the most genius of plans, but it would work until the three of you found somewhere safe to stop for the night.

Flashes of the sun came through the tree’s branches, hitting your face with enough warmth to counteract the wind from the speeder. You couldn’t see much if you looked up. The forest, so dense that it nearly enclosed you in complete darkness. That never stopped you from trying.

With a small smile, you tilted your head back, looking up at the relatively blue sky—the sun still breathing life to the forest through the trees. The sight wasn’t enough to forget the dread that slowly continued to creep up your spine. But it was enough to keep you distracted. To help you pass the time as the three of you sped through the forest, panic rampant in your veins.

To escape was to finally know peace and you were all itching to have a small sliver of serenity.

The speeder sputtered to a stop causing your body to jolt into Cassian’s as Vonn halted up ahead. His boots thumping on the ground told you all that you needed to know. This would be where you’d make camp for the night. After traveling for hours until the sun began to dip once more below the thicket of trees around you, the ache to finally stand was overwhelming. Your legs were stiff, back even worse.

Traveling by speeder wasn’t something you were used to, having walked everywhere.

“I’ll start gathering wood,” Vonn called out before vanishing into the darkness, leaving you with Cassian.

“He usually does his own thing?” You turned, catching sight of the questioning glance Cassian held as he stared at the spot Vonn last stood.

“Vonn has always been the leader of our two man pack.” Lifting your arms above your head, you heard the satisfying crack as your spine gave way to the movement. “He’s never been one to take orders.”

You didn’t catch the way Cassian’s eyes roved down your stretched out figure, watching you twist to find some relief in your bunched up muscles. “He gives them well enough.”

“Yeah well…I guess that’s what makes him a good rebel.”

He hummed, turning to the pack that was still attached to the back of your speeder. The scent of mint filtered through the brisk air as he pulled out the one thing you needed most. It surprised you that he remembered your injury still after last night. Although what surprised you even more was that he was still willing to help you apply the salve—as if helping you heal was somehow important to him.

“I can do that,” you said, reaching for it.

“I don’t mind,” he replied, as if telling you he refused to accept any other response than okay.

Something warm gripped your chest, spreading down to the very tips of your fingers. “Thank you.” Your voice was soft, nearly carried away with the night breeze, but the small grin on his lips told you enough.

Cassian was reluctant with Vonn. You could see it in the guarded way he held himself, barely letting down the steel wall that kept him safe from others around. But with you, it seemed that the wall was easier for you to climb over. He let you in somewhat, gave you a chance to see the man beneath the Rebel symbol sewed onto his jacket. The same symbol that was branded on his heart the second he finally figured out his true purpose in life.

You wondered if yours was the same.

Maybe if you searched through the scars on your skin you’d find it engraved there alongside your heroism. Your father had once said you held the heart of a gentle soul—too good for this galaxy—but the spirit and strength of a Rebel. In the back of your mind you could see his soft eyes, the tender touch of his hand as he held you in a hug. The promise of being there—to witness you all grown up.

You’d grown used to the heartbreak of a promise broken. It hardened your gentle soul. Perhaps the same had been done to Cassian. One day you would have to ask him.

“What comes after this?” you asked, hesitant to hear the answer. For all you know he had a life away from this. Someone to go home to.

The long breath he let out told you enough. “I get new orders.”

“So you leave.” You shifted closer to him as he gently raised your shirt.

“Yes.” He said the word so bluntly you had to take a moment to process it, but why hide the truth when it was staring you in the face either way.

Cassian wasn’t simply a pawn in the Rebellion’s game. He was one of the players. He was important in the midst of everything going on and you were finally beginning to understand just how much. They would give him new orders probably the day he arrived. Whereas you would end up who knows where.

“What will I do when I join?” you asked, slightly afraid of his answer.

He sighed, his fingers spreading the salve gently across your skin, causing sparks to jolt down your spine. “They’ll send you where you’re needed most. Depending on your skills.”

“And you?” You turned your head to catch sight of him bowed in your peripheral. He was so close to your skin, his breath warm across your waist. “Where did they send you when you first joined?”

Cassian grinned—or maybe it was a grimace you could see—and applied another layer. “How I joined was…complicated.”

“Let me guess…” His hands lingered on your skin longer than they should have, but neither of you touched on the subject. Instead you allowed your eyes to flutter shut, a thrill of warmth shooting down your spine, pooling in your stomach as he traced a symbol into the tender skin at your waistband. “You were a spark in the Rebellion. Someone they couldn’t lose.”

He scoffed, still touching you. “More so the opposite.”

“Disposable?”

“Yes.”

You finally turned, your face mere inches away from his. Brown eyes filled with a sadness you couldn’t even begin to comprehend caught you in their gaze—his hand pressing into your body to keep you close. If you wanted to you could lean in and kiss him. Finally fulfill the one desire that had been stuck with you all night and all day. And Cassian would have let you. Fuck he’d have taken you on the floor if you would let him—the electricity between you practically singed him from the inside out, turning his once cold exterior warm.

“Then that’s where they’re wrong,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. His eyes flickered down to your lips. “You’re not disposable Cassian Andor. Quite the opposite if you ask me.”

Something inexplicably beautiful occurred the second those words left your mouth. His eyes met yours as his lips curved up and for the first time you watched him smile. Not the half grins he’d given you or even the fake smiles filled with grief and tinged with heartache. No…this was like seeing the sky shift before your very eyes, as if all the stars in the galaxy decided to grace you with their shining presence.

Cassian smiled and your entire world exploded with color.

Maker you were done for, but what a brilliant way to go. What an extraordinary sight to make your last.

He leaned closer, eyes falling to see the curve of your parted mouth and you allowed it to happen. Held your breath while he finally pressed his lips against yours. Gently at first. As if to gauge your reaction to this one action and if you had the power, you’d yank him close enough to meld with you. You’d lick into his mouth simply to savor the taste of him on your tongue, but the rustling behind you tore him away.

“Am I interrupting something?” Vonn asked, the smirk evident in his voice.

You wondered if he’d forgive you for shooting a blaster bolt in his direction as a warning. Sneaking up on already rattled people wasn’t something that would play out in his favor. But the wink he sent in your direction forced all that irritation away—his mouth pulled up into a smile, eyes alight with joy at seeing you happy.

“I’ll start the fire,” Cassian said, letting you go in order to head over towards the center of the clearing, his head ducked and hands shoved into his pockets.

For a moment you watched him leave, memorizing the back of his body while he walked. That is until Vonn plopped down beside you, his knees caging yours in to keep you from going anywhere. Cold hands grasped onto yours, dragging them close—forcing your eyes to snap to his.

“If I leave for an hour will you fuck him?”

“Vonn!” you exclaimed trying to tug yourself away from him.

He laughed, letting you go only to see you nearly topple backwards. “All I’m saying K’tusah is I’ve never seen a man look at you like that before.”

“For your information a man has in fact looked at me like that—”

“Gregory doesn’t count.”

You gaped at him. “What do you mean he—”

“Gregory was more in love with his shop than with anyone else. I’m pretty sure he would have married it one day. Kinda want to know if he had.”

“You left,” you stated bluntly, clasping your hands together in your lap. “Right before he asked me to marry him.”

Silence fell over the two of you as Vonn processed the words that seemed to get stuck in his brain. He looked at you as if you’d told him you had a hidden gaggle of children he’d never heard of before. Like you were growing a third head right before his very eyes. And you found the sight of him this shocked so funny you started to laugh. Covering your mouth, you doubled over into his chest, your body wracked with laughter so hard it began to hurt your stomach.

“That’s not fucking funny,” he said, joining you and grabbing onto your shoulders to keep you upright. “Don’t joke about that bland bantha of a man becoming your future.”

“Why not?” Your face hurt from smiling, but the pain felt exhilarating after so long without it.

“Because!” He snorted, laughing even harder. “That’s the scariest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Me getting married is scary?” you asked, taking in the joy practically radiating from his face.

He shook his head, thumb running along your knuckles. “No. You marrying Gregory is scary. I mean c’mon could he even process emotions—”

Hitting his thigh you watched him devolve into another round of laughs, his head thrown back and body shaking as he finally felt the lightness of freedom fall on his shoulders again. You wondered how long he’d been buried beneath the darkness. How long had it been since he last laughed? In that moment you didn’t see the Rebel pilot that had fought his way to survive this long. Instead the man you once knew—the boy who you shared so much with—sat before you, finally back from a war that had taken too much.

“Your lover boy is on his way back,” Vonn said, the smile on his lips a comfort after so long without it.

“He’s not my—”

He scoffed. “There’s nothing wrong wanting it, K'tusah.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes. You do.” His palm slid into yours, thumb a soft pressure on your wrist. To the scar that came from venturing into this very forest as kids together. “We’re at war. But don’t make that the reason you won’t love.”

“I don’t love—”

The regret in his eyes—the pain you caught—punched you in the chest with a violence you didn’t expect. “But you could.”

Questions ran through your mind, each worse than the one before. Who had he loved? Who had he lost? Were they the reason he looked haunted—as if his past could never be a memory? You wondered if he experienced it every single day, unable to block out what happened to him before he wound up here again. War took pieces of everyone, but for Vonn it tore him apart.

Before you began to form words, the thunk of wood hitting the ground drew your attention back to Cassian. He used what he could find to start a small flame, watching it grow by the second—each lick of orange eating at the damp wood he managed to find on the forest floor. Branches and twigs would only keep the three of you warm for so long. And chopping down a tree would cause too much attention.

For now, this would be enough, until dawn began to rise and you could find your way to a ship.

Vonn stood with a sigh, his hand patting your shoulder with enough love to make your heart twist. When you were children, you’d fix his wounds with shaky hands and a delicate touch. You’d heal everything physical and watched as he smiled in response, the shine meeting his eyes. Now, the light was dimmed, the mental anguish he suffered no longer able to be healed with uneven stitches and jokes about life.

He made small talk with Cassian about what was to be done. The start of a plan to get you off this planet and back to the Rebel base. You caught what you could, your hands busy with helping the fire along. Your stomach roared with hunger, begging for scraps, but hunting at this time of night when the Empire was right on your ass practically screamed for a death sentence.

“If we make it over the mountains by nightfall tomorrow, we’ll be off the planet sooner.”

“That’s still another whole day of travel,” Cassian bit off, clearly irritated with how long things were taking. You couldn’t blame him. Being hunted left you with constant anxiety; always looking over your shoulder everywhere you went.

You threw another handful of dried leaves onto the fire. “Let’s say we make it,” you started, tugging out the ancient holomap you stored in your pack before leaving. “We still have another day to travel before we reach the settlements. No one on the mountains will sell to us.”

“Why not?” Cassian asked.

“We look local. They don’t like city folk.”

Vonn nodded. “We’re fucked till we hit the settlements.”

“So we travel there. Then what?” Cassian pointed to the other half of the small hills that protruded off the map. “We will barely have anything to trade.”

Vonn’s gaze caught yours, a dark eyebrow lifting in a question you could practically hear miles away. “That’s not exactly true.” He gestured to your neck. “Do you still have it?”

“Have what?”

You sighed, digging the hard piece of stone attached to an old chain out from beneath your shirt. In the firelight, it glinted as if it were the real thing. A piece of the most precious stone the galaxy had to offer. In Vonn’s early years as a pilot, he managed to snag a bit of what he believed to be a Jedi’s possession—something that might come in handy years down the road.

Cassian’s eyes widened at the sight. “Kyber,” he murmured.

You shook your head. “Ranite.”

“Looks like the real fucking thing,” Vonn replied, leaning his boot against the edge of the fire, hoping to gain some warmth. “I found it on Tatooine of all places. Traded it from a Jawa with a bit of Beskar armor.”

“And what do you plan to do with that?”

“Sell it,” you said. “Pass it off as sky Kyber.”

He scoffed, running a hand down his face. “You want to lie?” You nodded. “Have you thought of what would happen if you got caught? What if someone recognized it’s not actually Kyber?”

“There’s not many people who remember the Jedi on this planet Cass,” Vonn intruded, his eyes back to the sorrowful glint that had become a constant. “You forget how much the Empire wanted to rip that memory from the galaxy. The lengths they went to. Here…they took people out in the blink of an eye. I don’t know if they wanted to wipe the slate clean or just fucking kill to kill. But the Jedi…whatever legacy remained…they don’t exist anymore.”

You clutched the crystal in your hand, soaking in the light of the fire through something so small—something so insignificant. “Those who remember, who survived, chose not to stay.”

Images of your parents, of their warm smiles and even warmer hugs filled your head. They knew the stories of old, of a Republic that existed long before the Empire rose to power. They could recall tales of the Jedi and all they did across the galaxy. And you took that knowledge with you as you aged. You were all that they were, all that they left behind for you to become.

Cassian fell silent, his eyes unfocused and narrowed, hands clenched together in his lap. “It will end up in the hands of the Empire,” he mumbled. “One way or another.”

Vonn grinned, biting into a dried piece of fruit from his pack. “Not if we hand it over ourselves.”

“What?” Alarm consumed his entire body, face falling slack with the realization that you two weren’t the safest options to travel with. “You’re crazy!”

“Cassian—”

Vonn cut you off as he sat straight. “They know who we are. Shit I’ve been on their wanted list for months now. And it’s not exactly easy to hide when you’re a Chiss.”

“All the more reason we shouldn’t sell to them.”

His arm extended towards you, lips pulling up into that familiar grin of mischief you’d missed dearly. “They have no idea who K’tusah is.”

The wood split, cracking loudly in the air, as Cassian sat there in silence. His thoughts running through every scenario, all the options you had left in order to survive leaving this planet. The limitations were already set the moment he crash landed. The moment you chose to save his life. This was merely the remainder of your plan playing out without your permission. And you willingly gave up control without a second thought—too afraid that your life might wind up back where it used to be.

Alone in a galaxy at war.

“I’m okay with doing it Cass,” you said softly, catching his gaze. “For the Rebellion? Right?”

He let out a shaky breath, his hands balling into fists. “And what has the Rebellion done for you? To risk your life?”

You shrugged with a smile. “They sent me you.”

“It’s a good plan,” Vonn stated. “Better than hiding out here and dying from the fucking weather.”

“Vonn,” you drawled, biting back your spurt of laughter. “Don’t tell him that. He’ll make us leave.”

“Oh. Don’t tell him that the weather can change on a moment’s notice?”

“Well—”

“Or how about I tell him when you chose to try and make a map of this place in the snow.”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s being dramatic. It wasn’t snowing.”

“Ice was on the ground!” he laughed, slamming his boot to the floor. “I got frostbite because of you.”

“You didn’t get frostbite.”

“Fine. Then I almost got frostbite because of you.”

“Woutoc,” you snipped, catching the way his smile finally met his eyes.

Cassian felt his hands relax against his legs, the tension in his body fading as he listened to the two of you bicker like siblings. Two people who knew far too much about each other to ever go back on a friendship older than time itself. His lips pulled into a grin at the sound of your laughter, at how you spoke with your hands, and handed back whatever Vonn dished out tenfold.

For the first time in a long time…he felt a part of something that wasn’t merely a Rebellion. He could see himself in both of you. Found the parts he thought he lost along the way.

He could see his purpose in your eyes, the reason he stuck it out so long.

The reason he believed in the first place.

“Watch your back Cass. Or you’ll get dragged into the forest. Ice on the ground or not.”

He chuckled, warmth spilling into his chest as you met his gaze. “It sounded important.”

You sat a bit straighter, your smile growing as he affirmed your statement. “It was.”

[wander-wren]

oc game: i was tempted to just send you all the emojis but 🧠🌼✨ those are in reverse order from how they appear in the game i think oops anyway these are ones we dont usually get in character questions i genuinely dont think I know their ages soooo enjoy

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

inari- she's very, very attached to her home country of skalmere, even though it's illegal for her to exist there and she'd likely be killed if she ever went back. she has a little skalian flag sewn on the inside of her jacket, over her heart. idk, something about it is really compelling, i guess i connect it to being a minority in a conservative area but not wanting to leave.

daci- okay, i love her bc she's a sweetheart, but i think what i like most is that her magic (empathy, literally) is very sensory-based, so if she chooses to use it around a lot of people she gets sensory overload, and sometimes there's so much she can't fully turn her magic off, and idk, i like angst, i like magic drawbacks, i like people who refuse to let their friends know their magic has drawbacks.

cas- he projects this image of himself as really dark and edgy and scary but he actually has the lowest self-esteem known to man (well, second to inari) and if ollie so much as looks at him sternly he will fold and walk back his most recent bad decision. he's so funny to me for that.

ollie- they're literally just this happy-go-lucky artist kid from the backcountry that you would never expect to be the right hand of mr edgy up there ^^ its a really fun character type to play with

eira- she's this small, babyfaced, anxious girl that literally everyone estimates, kind of rightfully bc she's very out of her depth, but from the first page she's got this undercurrent of strength and ambition and i really love balancing those two things (or unbalancing them and causing her problems)

tyrian- he's the most Some Guy ever, the ken to eira's barbie if you will, and he's the only one without magic or a significant amount of trauma, so he's even more out of his depth than eira is but doing his best. and i love him.

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

in age order: cas (19), ollie (18), daci (18), tyrian (17), inari (17), eira (16)

i started this story when i was 15 and younger than them all, and in 8 months i'll be older than all of them. which is insane.

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

there's a forum on the nanowrimo website, where i was spending most of my time back in 2019 (you know this, lexi), and there's a category in there to adopt character names. someone made a list of fantasy names and their meanings, which i went back and found just now:

inari, daciana, eira, and cassian (cas's full name) are all up there. i actually almost named him caspian, bc it means sea, but i had an inkling that "hollow" would be more fitting. also, there's narnia.

fun fact: isleen and isleen wer taken for tyrian's older sister & younger brother, dyah (which i'm now tweaking to either dyha or dyja, but it was dyah for four years) was taken for inari's little sister, and valens was taken for eira's father.

i don't remember where tyrian came from at all, except that two posts above that post someone suggested "tyr?" hm. also, i pulled several names from other posts for the eight gods of daci's religion, as well as alarik for her dog and kiver for a kid who will be important near the end. no one needed to know all of that, i'm just realizing now that this thread was absolutely instrumental to olt's beginnings, lol.

oh, also ollie/oleander isn't from there! they came when i sent a picrew to some friends on a discord server and asked for naming help. i'm no longer in that server, nor do i remember who suggested the name, but i am forever in their debt bc it is incredible.

oh, and last names i just COMPLETELY made up based on vibes, except for gatien. i remember googling for that one, i don't remember what, and i selected it bc it means "watchman," tho i'm not sure what i was going for there anymore. also inari and daci's last names have been nixed bc i grew to hate them, so....i still need to replace those.

[surielstea]

Bright Smiles

Based on this request

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader meets Azriel’s family

Warnings: Suggestiveness at the end | fluff

A/N: Not proof read.

"C'mon Az you're sneaking around with her every night." Cassian hums from his seat splayed out on the couch, Nesta's feet in his lap. "Aren't we worthy of meeting her, brother?" Rhys flutters his lashes at the shadow singer as if that was going to convince him. "I don't think anyone deserves her," Azriel grumbled as he sharpened truth-teller with the set you got him during solstice. "Not even me?!" Cassian launches up, startling Nesta and earning him a glare from the female. "Not even you." Azriel simply shakes his head and continues to work on the blade.

"Well now I really have to meet her." Feyre hummed from Rhysand's side, leaning against his shoulder. "You'll all scare her away." The spymaster grumbled, drawing groans from everyone else in the room. "If you haven't scared her then I think we'll be just fine." Rhys scoffs, picking an invisible piece of lint from his jacket. "What does she like to do? Maybe if we catch her in her element it'll be easier for her to take all of us on." Feyre enthusiastically suggests. "You're acting like she's a wild animal." Cassian chuckles. Azriel ignores the Illyrian and casts a glance to his high lady before dwelling over it. Then releasing a long sigh.

"She likes to party." He murmured and Morrigan who was barely listening to the conversation was now fully attentive. "Fuck yeah! I'm in on this girl." The blonde nods with a bright grin. "Me and you both." Cassian has an untamed look in his eyes that made the shadow singer awfully nervous. "So invite her to Rita's, we'll all go tomorrow night?" Feyre offers and a frown forms on his face. "Come on Az, it'll be fun." Cassian's voice fences on a whine and the male knows he can't say no.

Azriel twirls his knife in his hand before sheathing it back into the holster at his thigh. "Fine." He grumbled out. "But if any of you say anything to embarrass me in front of her, I'll have your head. Got it?" He threatens with cold, deathly eyes that would make anybody shiver. "You really like this girl." Nesta hums, casting him a sidelong glance. His jaw feathered. "I do." His head dips. "I'll let her know about Rita's."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You stood in the full body mirror with a cobalt blue dress on, the material a soft silk with a deep neckline that exposed more than what Azriel would've preferred. It was short too, but not too short to where you'd be paranoid about it all evening.

"You don't have to go," The shadow singer sighs wearily from the doorway as you put in your dangling earrings. "It'll be fun." You flash him a bright smile. He's offered you an escape plan at least a dozen times now, you were starting to get the feeling it was him who wanted to back out. "Besides, I look hot in this dress which is the key to having a good night." You inform and his golden eyes drift from your gaze and all the way down to your heels before raking back up in a leisurely pace.

"You do look good." He nods in agreement. The siphons on his hands glow the same color as your dress and he can't help but smile at the sentiment of it. "Very good." He grabs you by your wrist before pulling you closer, shadows pushing at your back until you're stumbling into his chest. "You sure you're ready?" He asks in a soft tone, the kind of voice that has you falling head over heels. "It's not too soon?" His brows crease. "We've been dating for half a year now." It might have seemed long in human years but in Fae that's still the honeymoon phase.

"I've wanted to meet them since I met you." You shrug. "Anything or anyone you love, I'll love." You explain and he bashfully hides his blush by pressing a kiss to your forehead. "If they make you uncomfortable tell me, we can leave." He says softly before pulling away and you giggle. "You sound like they're going to expose your deepest darkest secrets." You look at him amused. "They might." He shakes his head like he wouldn't put it past them.

"Are you ready though?" You ask, adjusting the siphon on the back of his palm, refitting his glove. He flips his hand and intertwines it with yours in a practiced motion. You smile widely and look up at him only to find him already looking down at you in a way that made it seem like you hung every star in the sky. "Az?" You tilt your head. "Sunshine?" He mocks your curious voice. You lean up and press a soft kiss to his lips. "Anything I should know before they expose you?" You mumble against his mouth and a small smile forms on his lips. "A very long time ago, Cassian and I made a bet on who would be with the most girls." He sighed like it's his most embarrassing moment. "And?" You tilt your head. "And the bet is still ongoing, Nesta is definitely his last. And you're mine." He grumbled, a flush stains your cheeks. "Am I making you lose Shadowsinger?" You press your palms to his abdomen with a cheeky grin, trying to ignore the fact that he just admitted he expected you to be his last. "How am I losing when I get the girl in the end?" His hands snake around your waist and you blush profusely.

"Maybe we'd be better off staying in tonight?" He suggests as his head dips down to your collar bone. "Az." You reprimand, your fingers weaving through his hair. "Love." He hums in reply as you tug at his hair but he just continues attacking at your neck, sucking at a particularly sensitive spot. "Are you trying to mark me?" You scoff. He nods but doesn't relent on the exposed area. "Illyrian pride." You murmur as he detaches and leaves a satisfying purple bite on the column of your throat. "How else will they know you're mine?" He arches a brow and you roll your eyes. "Probably because you'll be looming over my shoulder all night." You playfully smack his shoulder and his eyes glint with delight at the idea.

"Okay, do the weird dark portal thing." You intertwined your hand with his. He shakes his head in disbelief at the comment, before taking a step forward and dragging you with him into another realm entirely. You wrap your arm around his forearm in fear of being stranded in his complete and utter darkness. You look up at him, where even in the shadow realm his wings are darker. A shiver crawls down the length of your spine, his hand squeezes yours tighter and it does wonders in keeping you calm. In the blink of an eye he's pulling the both of you out from the black and into the pleasure hall, shadows still weaving around him as you regain your footing. "I'm going to hurl." You warn and he creased his brows worriedly. "You're alright?" He brings a hand to your cheek and though you were slightly nauseous, the feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours settled any nerves you have. "Mhm." You nod up at him with a gentle smile, his gaze lingers on it before a shadow curls around his ear and his head whips up.

"She's so... bright." An unfamiliar female voice mumbled over the loud music and crowds. You turn to the line of high fae staring at Azriel and you. The shadow singer squeezes my hand tighter and you realize this is Azriel's family. "Hello, I'm Feyre." A gorgeous female in a black dress steps forward, extending her hand to shake. You flush, bowing your head. "My lady—" you begin. "Please," The female places her tattooed hand on your shoulder. "Call me Feyre." She gives you a reassuring smile and you can't help but feel a little safer under her gaze.

"I'm Rhysand." The high lord slides a hand around his mates waist and you give him a smile. "I'm—" you begin. "Y/n, we know." A beautiful blonde grins proudly, glancing at Azriel before looking back to you. "From the day court right?" She arches a brow. "Yes," you pause, "how much have you told them?" You turn to the spy master but he remains silent, only replying with a subtle shrug. "Every time he opens his mouth." A large rugged male chuckles, earning a glare from Azriel.

"You must be Cassian." You guess confidently as you look up, and up, and up at him. "How'd you know?" He creases his brows and you smile cheekily. "Azzie talks about you guys too." You supply and Cassian's eyes light with amusement as a low growl sounds from the male at your side. "Azzie?!" Cassian hollers in laughter and you join him with a giggle, realizing the shadow singer shouldn't have been worried about any of them exposing him, but rather you.

"Shut up." He grits out and even Rhysand has to suppress a snicker. "You're coming with me," Feyre grabs onto your free hand and drags you away from the males. "They clearly need to debrief." She mutters, clasping onto Mor as well before carving a way straight to the bar, people moving every which direction to get out of the high lady's path.

"You're going to have to tell us everything." Mor instructs as she finds three empty stools for you to sit on, Feyre gesturing you to the middle. Right as you sit a bartender with deep brown hair and tattered Illyrian wings places three drinks in front of us like she knew exactly what we wanted, you don't miss the wink she gives Mor, who returns it with a smile. "I don't even know where to begin." You say, thinking of what they'd even want to hear. "You can start with this," Mor places a drink in front of you. "While you tell us about that." She then points to the purple mark Azriel had left on you only moments ago.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"You've got it bad, brother." Rhysand hums, sliding to the side of Azriel, the blue siphoned male still staring at you as Feyre drags you away. "Got what?" The shadow singer creases his brows and looks to Rhys. The high lord looks as if he's about to laugh. "You're love sick." Cassian hums, passing by the two and guiding them to the table in the back they usually sat at.

They settle into the booth, three whiskey glasses and a decanter appear before them, as well as a deck of cards. It was muscle memory at this point for Azriel to shuffle and deal the cards while Rhys poured the drinks. Azriel always won, of course. Cassian got too confused and Rhys just wasn't very smart with his hand. The two Illyrians however had devised a plan to take down their spy master.

"You go first, Azzie." Cassian taunts as soon as he gets his cards. Azriel casts a glare at him and if the general didn't know any better he'd think he was a dead man. "Fuck off," Azriel plays his card. "Only she gets to call me that." He leans back into his seat, shadows swirling around him. "You're whipped." Rhys smiles, playing his round. "I know." Azriel sighs. "It's actually gotten so bad, she's all I think about." The shadow singer murmurs, analyzing Cassian's every move while he takes his turn. "When will she stop being a constant factor in my judgement?" He huffs out, Rhys looks past the crowd to his high lady. "Never." His eyes don't leave Feyre when he speaks. "Trust us brother, every decision you now make will be connected to her." Cassian warns and Azriel sinks deeper into his seat. "Fuck." He grumbled. "Yeah." Rhys smiles, agreeing with the sentiment. Then his eyes go blank, clearly talking with someone else with that power he and his mate share, Azriel notices but he doesn't think anything of it.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"Rhys wants us over there," Feyre gestures to the table in the back, the path to them blocked by the crowd. "How do you know?" You crease your brows, blinking at her curiously. "I can hear him in my head." She shrugs. "Freaks." Mor grumbles, causing a soft snicker to admit from your lips. "This way then," Feyre grabs my hand and ignores Mor's comment, you were unsure if you shouldn't have laughed or if this was simply how they acted with each other.

Feyre tugs me through the crowd, and the same way she led us to the bar everyone parted for her, quick to move out of the way in fear of the protective high lords wrath that would be unleashed if Feyre were to be so much as bumped into.

Once reaching the table, Mor slides into the booth beside the general, Feyre stands behind Rhys, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she watched his cards intently. Before you could even begin to understand the game they were playing shadows wrap around you and pull you straight down onto Azriel's lap. You flush but he only pulls your back into his chest and props his head on your shoulder.

"Someone's awfully clingy." You mumble to him as his fingertips press into the skin of your inner thigh. "Mhm." He nods and you smile, leaning your head back to rest on his collar bone, looking down at his cards. You couldn't tell who was winning, much less how the game even worked— but you didn't care at the moment, not while you were sitting in the lap of the prettiest male you've ever seen, his finger tracing shapes unconsciously. Spelling his name you discerned. Your breath hitched at the realization and you flushed pink, making you grateful for the dim lighting.

You tilt your head to look at his side profile, utterly focused on the cards in his hands. You smiled and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his jaw. "If you win I'll be your prize later." You whisper softly and his eyes flash with something you recognized well. "And if I lose?" He arches a brow. "Don't." You warn against his neck and he adjusts his hips beneath you, allowing you to feel exactly how much he's dedicated to win. You suppress a giggle and lean into him, watching the confusing game and trying to figure out the rules.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Azriel didn't know how it happened. He usually blacked out and let his instincts take over, has played this game a multitude of times to know which strategies work and what tactics to use. But now that you were seated in his lap and he was promised a reward he had no idea where to even begin. He played it cool but gods was your scent distracting, and if you moved your hips against him one more time he might have to take you on the table right here, right now.

"Sunshine," He calls. "Yeah Az?" You look up at him with wide wondering eyes. Fuck, he's so doomed. Can you sit still for me?" He asks. He would have you get off of his lap but unfortunately the imprint of his member would be far too prominent and he feared Cassian would never let him live it down.

"Mhm, sorry." You fight back a small smile before settling back into him. It was odd, to be so distracted. Azriel has trained his entire life to have good discipline and an unbreakable shield. Until you came along with your bright smile and your overwhelming kindness, making him completely awestruck. He's never had the urge to protect something more, and also never had the lack of control to the point where the first time you met him, his shadows mummified you. He apologized a dozen times but every time you waved him off with a polite smile and told him you didn't mind.

He now looked down at you, on his lap, toying with a shadow that weaved between your finger tips as if they were yours to control. He wondered how he even got here, what he did to deserve this moment.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"Fuck." Cassian groaned tossing down his hand of cards, his distress and Mor's smirk making it clear that he lost. You creased your brows and Rhys slowly folded his own cards down, a frown on Feyre's face at the defeat. "How do you do it?" Cassian looked wide eyed at the spy master, who simply smiled. "We thought she'd distract you." Rhys sighs, the high lord pouting. "My lucky charm."Azriel hums, wrapping his arms tighter around you, making you blush. "The streak continues." Cassian grumbled, reaching for his drink and downing the rest of it.

"If you'll excuse me brothers, and ladies," He nodded to both of them. "I have a prize waiting for me at home." The male kissed your temple and you widened your eyes. "Azriel!" You reprimanded but whatever lecture you were about to give died on your tongue at the sight of his dimples. Your mouth watered. "We have to go." You swallow. His eyes flash with lust. "It was nice meeting you all," you turn to them who were all staring at us knowingly. "I'd like to meet again." You grin, trying to ignore Azriel whose hand on your thigh was slowly shifting higher. "I'm sure we will." Rhys nods and you give them one last smile before Azriel is winnowing us back to your apartment.

"You just couldn't wait could you, Azzie?" You tease.

"I want my prize." He hoists you up onto the kitchen counter and kisses you breathless, not allowing you to reply.

General tag list: @fxckmiup

Comment a “💙” to be added :)

[swift-creates]

category: Gen

fandom: Star Wars

characters and relationships: Cassian Andor and Strike (OC) - platonic, Cassian Andor x Jyn Erso - romantic, Kix, Alex is mentioned multiple times but never shown (as is Kerri)

warnings: Extreme cold, hypothermia, medbay setting (after the divider break), awkward love confessions, teasing about said confession, Strike is a little shit

Summary:

@ailesswhumptober Day 17: Hypothermia / Heat Stroke / “You look a little pale” Day 18: Fever / Vomiting / Warm Soup

Stranded on an ice planet after a Rebel mission gone wrong, Cassian and Strike try to send out one last transmission to the people they love.

notes: divider by @djarrex (see more here). used the warm soup prompt quite literally and. for the comfort part of the hurt/comfort. but it's still p angsty with context. this is set in my Rebel AU (aka continuity i created solely to make my TCW blorbos friends with my Empire-era blorbos) and comes chronologically after Jai'galaar (unposted fic where she meets Alex) Yes this fic is an excuse to write Rebelcaptain.

context is basically Cassian and Strike were sent on a mission in the Rebel AU, and were stranded on an ice planet, unable to get offplanet or send any transmissions to anyone. Strike had a big fight with Jesse before they left and said some pretty extreme things and regrets it. also, Cassian is friends with the Ghost Crew bc i said so.

more things about Strike on AO3

“A cave,” he told her through chattering teeth. They stumbled into its gaping mouth, brushing the snow from their shoulders with shaking hands, and huddled at its back, trying to preserve whatever warmth hadn’t been stolen from them by the storm.

Strike curled into herself as much as she could, snuggled up tight to Cassian’s side. He stared at a frosted rock across from them, as if he could summon warmth and help if he looked at it hard enough, only breaking his vacant gaze when she nudged him. 

“Whatcha thinking?” she whispered.

He sighed, the silence settling back down after that for a moment, like ripples smoothing on the surface of a pond, before replying. “About what I never got to tell Jyn. About how much I… love her.” Strike put a hand over his, and he attempted a smile. “I guess now I’ll never get to.”

She looked away, closing her eyes briefly. “I should never have asked you along on this mission.”

“Hey, I’m the idiot who said yes. This isn’t your fault.”

“I think it is.” 

He put his arms around her, leaning his head onto her shoulder. “Well, I think it isn’t. Checkmate.” She let out a short huff of a laugh at that, her breath misting white in the shadows wrapped around them as they both contemplated their circumstances, weighing the options and both reaching the same conclusion. 

“Well, we’re probably gonna die here, so. Any last confessions? Rants you need an ear lent to?”

Strike went quiet for a moment, then spoke in a hushed voice. “I don’t want my fight with Jesse to be the last words we ever said to each other. And I would’ve liked to see Alex again, before.” The unsaid finality of their situation hung in the air, a vulture circling both their minds before she added, “And tell him to feed Badu.” 

Cassian snorted. “I don’t think anyone could forget. He wouldn’t let them.”

“Yeah.” She twisted to look at him. “You?”

He smiled wistfully, turning the holoprojector over in his hand. “I know I can’t. That any transmissions we send won’t make it through the storm. But I would’ve liked to tell her. I still do.” Strike thought of Jyn, waiting for a call that would never come, and buried her face in his jacket. 

“I’m sorry.” She said it again, even though she knew he’d say she didn’t have to. She just needed him to know she was. 

“Y’know,” he said after a pause, “kriff it.” He flicked on the holoprojector, and the small red light indicated that it was recording. 

“I know this might never get transmitted, and if it does, it’ll get to you until after we’re both frozen, but I don’t think we have the luxury of caring anymore. This message is the last from Rebel agents Cassian Andor and Strike Kamino.” She stared at him as he spoke, his expression now holding a resigned determination, then turned to face the projector when he looked at her. 

“First of all, someone make sure Light takes his meds. And feed Badu in the afternoon, or he’ll scream at you to do it in the middle of the night.” Cassian chuckled then, probably remembering the few disturbed nights when that had happened. “Alex. I love you so much it feels like I need you to breathe. I’m sorry I couldn’t come back this time.” She took a breath to compose herself, the memory of the stinging words she’d thrown at her brother flashing to the forefront of her mind.

“Jesse, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of what I said, and if I could take it back, I would. You didn’t deserve that.” She sniffled, wiped at her face with one hand. “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, vod. Take care of yourself, and don’t let Kix get vasovagal syncope-d again, whatever that is.” She leaned back out of the camera’s range, let the blue light cascade across Cassian’s face uninterrupted.

“Kerri, you be good and do whatever Hera says. No staying up past bedtimes, no drugs and murder, and no boys unless I would have liked them. But I do have high standards when it comes to boys,” he admitted. “Help Zeb around the base, would you? Poor man’s stressed enough as it is.” He went quiet then, gaze falling from the holoprojector to the gray rock floor. 

“Jyn… I’m in love with you. I think I have been ever since Jedha. I just… didn’t know it. And when I did realise it, I- I didn’t know how to tell you.” He let out a soft laugh. “And this probably won’t even reach you, but I love you. 

“I just wish you could have told me if you felt the same.”

He stopped the recording, tucked the projector away into his pocket and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Wiped away the tear he hadn’t known was trickling down his cheek.

“That was just Jyn’s style,” Strike said after a short pause. “She would’ve loved it.”

He gave her a small smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” They huddled up again, pulling their jackets tighter around themselves and waiting for the inevitable. 

Neither of them were sure who gave in to unconsciousness first, but the storm raged on outside as they both fell still.

Cassian knew he was awake, but he was warm for the first time in days, and he kept his eyes closed, content to just stay still and comfortable right there. But a while later, muffled voices intruded on his cosy darkness, and he squeezed his eyes shut harder, to no avail. A feeling like hands prodding at him poked into his shoulder, and he wondered wearily if this was what it felt like to become one with the Force. It was more irritating than the Jedi made it sound. 

“Cassian.” The call of his name broke through the blur, and wasn’t that strange, it sounded almost like Kix. That was worth investigating, and he blinked his eyes open to a haze of bright white. 

“Cassian.” His vision focused on the face hovering in front of him.

“Kix?” That was weird. “What happened?” 

“We found the two of you in a cave half frozen to death, is what happened. And we got your holo message, too. None of us were too happy about that. Jesse almost had an aneurysm, and Jyn wasn’t much better.” Two. Two of us, in a cave…

“Strike. Where is she? Is she…” He let his voice trail off, almost afraid to finish his sentence.

“She’s fine.” Kix’s expression softened. “We got to you two in time to stave off the worst of the damage.” Cassian slumped in relief. Okay. That’s good.

“I think you both are going to need to talk to your message recipients when you’re well enough for it,” the medic went on. “They were almost inconsolable, watching that and waiting for you to come home.” 

The message. Cassian recalled the holoprojector, the recording, what he’d said in it. I talked to Kerri, told her to be good. He vaguely remembered saying something about Zeb. And after that… 

Oh, sithspit.

He’d told everyone exactly how he’d felt about Jyn. 

“Morning, sunshine.” He looked over to see a sleepy-looking Strike under a thick bundle of blankets he imagined Hardcase hauling to the medbay to throw on top of her. “Disappointed we’re not dead?”

“I might have just doomed myself to a fate worse than death,” he replied, burying his face in his hands. 

Strike seemed to search her memory a little before remembering, and raised her eyebrows at him when she did. “Oh, kriff. Yeah, I agree. I’m so glad I’m not you right now.”

Cassian groaned loudly in frustration. “Thank you, you’re being so helpful,” he deadpanned.

“You’re welcome.” Strike leaned back in her bed for a moment before shooting up again. “I have to go find Alex!”

“Kix will skin you alive if he finds out you’ve escaped.”

“This ain’t a prison, it’s a medbay. He’ll probably throw me to a nexu, but. Worth it.” She climbed out from under the blankets and swayed on her feet for a moment before regaining her balance, pulling on her boots and darting out of the room. “See ya later, Cass. Have fun!” He stuck his tongue out at her, but she didn’t turn around to see it.

He sat there for another few minutes, contemplating how to get out of this situation he’d put himself in, before the doors whooshed open a few minutes later. He expected one of the medics, or Kix hauling Strike back in by the scruff of her neck.

It was Jyn. 

She stepped over the threshold of the door, and walked up to his bed wordlessly. Sat down in the empty chair beside him. And looked at him, fathoms of emotion hidden behind her hazel eyes. They were beautiful, green with a center of golden brown, and held so much he couldn’t read, wouldn’t read even if he could. He wanted her to choose to tell him, sit down and let him know what went on behind those eyes and why. He wanted to do the same for her. 

“I watched your message. We all did,” she said, and he cringed internally at the memory. 

“Wasn’t one of my finest moments,” he admitted. 

She looked down at her hands, fiddled with a round object that he realised was the holoprojector they’d used to send the recording. “You said you didn’t know how to tell me how you felt. And then you said you wished I could tell you if I felt the same way.” She took in a deep breath, and with a sinking feeling, he braced himself for her rejection.

“Well, I’m telling you now. I love you, you idiot who thought it would be a good idea to confess to me in a holomessage that might have never reached this base.” He looked sharply up to see her shrug with a small smile. “I just never had the guts or the chance to say it out loud.” Cassian stared at her, speechless, as a warm feeling of surprised hope started to glow in his chest, and smiled back. 

Jyn looked down, flipped the projector once, twice, looked back up to him with something almost shy in her eyes. He’d known Jyn Erso for a while now, and seldom saw her look shy. “Do you wanna…”

He took in a breath, feeling his stomach buzz in anticipation of the kiss she was asking for. “Kriff yes.” He sat up straighter in his bed, tentatively put a hand over hers. Holding her breath, she let him, then started to lean in-

“And if I find you sneaking out again, Rex is not going to be able to stop me from tying you up with your own whipcord,” Kix grumbled, dragging a smug-looking Strike back into the medbay. Cassian and Jyn both jumped at his sudden entrance, settling back into their seats and rapidly trying to calm down. 

“I told Cassian that this was a medbay, not a prison, but I guess I was wrong.” Despite her complaints, Strike gave her brother a satisfied grin, and Cassian groaned internally. I know that smile.

“Manita, what did you do?”

“I walked in on some lovey-dovey heart eyes nonsense between this di’kut and her cyare, declaring their undying devotion to one another or whatever.” Kix made a face at the memory, bundling Strike back into her bed. 

“You wouldn’t have had to see it if you hadn’t come looking for me,” Strike pointed out, crossing her arms as he rearranged the blankets. “Oh, hey, Jyn.” 

“H-Hi.” Cassian winced at the way her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “I was just… checking in on Cassian.”

Kix looked at Jyn. Jyn looked at Strike. Strike looked at Kix. Kix turned to look back at Strike and raised one eyebrow ever so slightly Cassian might have missed it if he wasn’t so mortified at the whole exchange. 

Strike shrugged. “Well, he isn’t going anywhere.”

“Vod.” Kix nudged her.

“What? It’s true.” “Only because he’s a better patient than you are,” Kix groused, moving from her bedside to retrieve a tray of steaming bowls. “Here. Cookbook thought you two would need this.” He handed Cassian and Strike each a bowl, then hovered by a mug with the third. “Jyn? Soup?” 

“Oh, I don’t need- I was going to go soon-” Jyn started, but Strike cut her off.

“I think Cass here would really like it if you stayed for soup.” She made eye contact with Cassian, who withered a little bit at the barely restrained glee in her eyes.

Jyn looked at him, as if checking if he actually agreed, and he wanted to bury into his blanket and hide. Instead, he nodded — he did want her to stay, even if he would never say that out loud, and definitely not in front of Strike and Kix. “The soup’s good.” 

“Well, I’ve never turned down good soup.” She seemed to have regained her usual composure, and gave Kix a smile as he poured some into the mug. Cassian watched as she accepted it from the medic, the steam swirling up to frame her face as she took a careful sip. It rose in graceful curls and designs he wanted to trace into her skin, to hold her hand and gently smooth over with his thumb. 

He realised he was staring, blinked and shook the notion away. That was weird. Don’t do that. Even as he had the thought, he noticed her smiling over the rim of her mug and felt his face heat. 

“So, what is in this soup?” Strike asked loudly, and Kix shook his head knowingly. Cassian wanted to throw pillows at both of them. But then Jyn laughed, her brown hair cascading behind her with the force of her happiness, and he felt the violent urge recede. 

(But that didn’t mean pillows wouldn’t be flying once she left the medbay.)

[miss-shawdowsinger]

Soothing Darkness - Azriel X reader fanfic

Chapter 5

Summary: The ball has arrived. Y/N struggles to keep her lack of dance skills hidden but with someone to guid her she may find it easier then expected.

Warnings: swearing!

AN: so I loved this chapter, it gave me butterflies ❤️ please let me know what you think!

Chapter 1

----

The darkness unfurled as quickly as it came. You were a hundred feet above the house of wind, and you were falling. Plummeting downwards to meet the ground. You let out a scream, but the wind took your voice away. Fear stampeded throughout your entire body as you fell looking at the party below. Strong hands wrapped around you and pulled you towards their body. You clung onto Azriel, his wings finally stretching wide as he smoothly began to glide the rest of the way down.

“You alright?” he chuckled as you clung to him like a scared kitten.

“I could have died” you screamed at him.

“I wouldn’t have let that happen” his deep voice almost purred. “We only fell for a second, but I had you, I promise”.

“Couldn’t you have just gone straight to the house?” you looked, the party drew closer as Azriel slowly lowered the both of you to the balcony.

“There are wards around the house” he smirked. “So, no”.

“Never. Do that again” your heartbeat was still wild in your chest, and you cast Azriel you most stern look. His hazel eyes met yours and softened but there was still a hint of amusement behind them.

“Flying only. Noted” he landed softly on the houses balcony, placing you gently down. You stepped out of his arms and stared up at the towering Illyrian.

“I should say thank you” you begrudgingly said narrowing your eyes at him. You wished you could wipe that smug smile right off his face.

“No thanks necessary” he held up both of his hands. You opened your mouth to speak but you were cut off by your name being called. Turning quickly, you found Gwyn and Emerie stood at the glass doors to the house.

“You look amazing” Gwyn strode over to you, embracing you before you could return the compliment. “Come inside, the music is divine” they both grabbed one of your hands and dragged you inside. You glanced over your shoulder to see Azriel stood where he landed, as his shadows coiled around him. He nodded once to you as you got dragged inside.

~~

The house was full of people, all dressed up exquisitely in their ball gowns and suits. There were a couple tables pushed up against the walls around the room which had refreshments. People gathered around the outskirts of the room to chat whilst the centre was filled with dancing couples. Gwyn was right, the music was divine. It was played by a small orchestra who were situated on a stage overlooking the dance floor.

“Here” Emeire handed you a large glass of wine from one of the tables. You took it gladly as you admired the room. How different it looked now to how it usually did. You didn’t recognise anyone as you stared around. It looked like Gwyn was right about the priestesses, as there wasn’t one face you recognised from training.

You followed the two girls around the room, watching the dance partners move in perfect time with one another. Nesta and Cassian were amongst the dancers. You gawked as you watched Nesta move effortlessly, like she was one with the music. The music came to a close and Nesta spotted you in the crowd, dragging Cassian behind her, she marched over to greet you.

“Y/N, the necklace looks great on you” she smiled and you could have sworn she winked at you.

“You shouldn’t have” you touched the necklace sat on your collarbone, half covering the scar on your neck “Thank you”.

“You all clean up well” Cassian smiled down at all three of you. So did he. He looked so different to how you would usually see him. Instead of his Illyrian fighting leathers he wore a black jacket and trousers. His long hair was combed and hung neatly down to his shoulders. Nesta tutted at his half-hearted compliment.

“There are some people I would like you to meet” Nesta tilted her head in a gesture to follow her through the crowd. On the other side of the room there was a small group of people, as you approached you realised straight away who two of them were.

The high lord and high lady of the night court stood together. The picture of happiness as they laughed amongst the group. You quickly downed the rest of your wine before approaching. Liquid courage, you definitely needed that for this.

“Everyone” Nesta announced your arrival to the group. “This is Y/N, she has been training with us here everyday and she owns a bakery in the city” Nesta gestured towards you and six pairs of eyes followed. You suddenly felt very much in the spotlight in front of these very important people. Before you could feel yourself shrinking back on yourself a blonde, gorgeous female fae stepped forward and embraced you.

“Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Mor” she released you with a friendly smile. “This is Amren” she pointed to a small female with a jet-black bob. Amren raised her glass to you as a greeting, you nodded in return. “This is Elain” she stopped at the pretty young female.

“We’ve met” Elain smiled “I was meant to come back and tell you that your baking is amazing, I’ll have to visit again soon”.

“You are more then welcome anytime” you met her kind smile with your own.

“Next is my cousin Rhys and the beautiful Fayre” Mor continued, taking you round the circle. “Never one without the other” she smirked, gaining a glare back from the high lord before he turned his attention to you. You looked up to find Rhysands violet eyes. They were piercing but beautiful, he was quite something to behold. You could feel how his powers emanated from him even as he stood so casually.

“Nice to meet you” your voice managed to squeak out.

“You too Y/N” his deep voice rattled through you. “I’ve heard great things” he took your hand and gently shook it. You assumed he meant your baking and you blushed slightly as his soft warm hand released yours.

“Lovely to see you again” Fayre pulled your attention away from the high lord. She looked incredible in her long, silver, silk gown.

“And you” you bowed your head to her as you continued to follow Mor around the circle.

“I’m assuming you’ve met this one” Mor gestured to the male in the corner. He stepped out of the shadows, his face finally coming into full view.

“We have indeed” Azriel bowed his head to you. You rolled your eyes slightly, still annoyed from his lack of warnings earlier. He must have caught it as there was a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth.

~~

You sat between Mor and Gwyn, drinking wine and laughing as Mor told you about each of the members of the group and how they met. Nesta and Cassian spent most of the night dancing and Emerie had also found a dance partner or two. Although you did notice her stumble over her words when it came to speaking to Mor. You looked between the two of them and thought that they would look cute together but decided to keep that to yourself.

“I’m starved” Gwyn nudged you slightly. “Come with me to get some food?” you nodded once and excused yourselves before making your way around the room to the table filled with small bites to eat.

There were loads to choose from. Pigs in blankets, mini quiches, salads and tarts. Gwyn grabbed a plate and started piling the food on. “I know Nesta told us, but I didn’t have time to eat before this” she shrugged as she debated taking another slice of pie.

“No judgement from me” you helped yourself to a cocktail sausage and waited as Gwyn finished plating her food up. You looked out over the dancefloor in front of you. Emerie was on her second dance with a rather handsome looking fae, although her face looked rather board as he spun her around. Nesta and Cassian were smiling brightly at one another as they graced the dancefloor. Each of there spins, perfectly executed.

Rhysand and Fayre were also amongst the couples. They held each other closely as they gazed lovingly at one another. You couldn’t help but smile at how they looked at one another. Wishing that one day you may be able to find that for yourself. You continued looking at each of the dancing couples until your eyes landed on a couple that made your chest tighten.

Elain was spinning perfectly in time to the beat of the music. Her long, flowing lilac dress perfectly floating around with every movement. She was smiling brightly up at the male holding her closely, his scarred hand on her waist, his other interlocked with her hand.

Azriel was smiling down at the beautiful female he held closely. His dancing was as graceful and precise as his movements in the training rings. You couldn’t understand why your throat felt so constricted as you watched them dance with one another. Without even realising it, you had been staring at them for a while.

Together they looked like the most beautiful couple you had ever seen. No wonder he looked at her so longingly. No wonder she looked back at him the exact same way. “Care for a dance?” you hadn’t even noticed the male approach you, you managed to tear your eyes away from the dancing couple to face him.

His hand was held out ready for you to take. His red shoulder length hair fell to his green jacket. You looked to his face and saw a large scar that crossed over one of his eyes, which you soon realised was metal. The scar didn’t take away from the fact that the male was very handsome with soft features.

“Oh I’m sorry, I’m actually just grabbing some food” you lied. Your palms suddenly sweaty as you grabbed a plate. “Later, maybe” you nodded to him.

“I’ll look forward to it” he nodded his head politely and crossed to the other side of the room.

“You should have danced with him” Gwyn nudged you slightly.

“Maybe later” you shrugged. You didn’t dare admit that in fact, you had no clue how to dance. You had never stepped on a dancefloor in your life, and you weren’t about to embarrass yourself now. Especially in front of a handsome fae like him.

~~

As the night went on you ended up being asked by three other males to dance. Each you politely declined, coming up with one excuse or another. Gwyn and Emerie couldn’t understand it and kept on scolding you for rejecting another handsome male.

“You will have to dance eventually” Emerie crossed her arms at you. “You have told them all you would dance with them later”.

“I didn’t say I would” you defended. “I said maybe” you returned her look. Nesta joined your small group at the side of the dancefloor.

“You said maybe to what?” Nesta arched an eyebrow.

“Y/N keeps rejecting every suitable male who attempts to dance with her” Gwyn rolled her eyes.

“Why?” Nesta tilted her head. There was no tiptoeing around the glare that bored into you.

“Fine” you sighed. “I can’t dance” you kept your voice down, hoping only the three around you could hear.

“Can’t or haven’t?” was all Nesta asked.

“Haven’t” you answered, lowering your eyes to the floor in embarrassment.

“Not a problem. Wait here” Nesta spun on her heels and marched across the room to Cassian. You carefully watched as you saw her whisper in the Illyrians ear. He nodded, seemingly agreeing with whatever Nesta was saying. The couple then proceeded to wait until the music had finished before making there way over to one of the couples that had just finished their dance.

You tried to peer round the crowed of people at who Nesta and Cassian had approached. What could they possibly be up to? A small gap appeared, and you looked through it catching sight of Nesta and Cassian now stood with Elain and Azriel. Cassian whispered in Azriel’s ear, pointing in your direction. Azriel followed his gesture and locked eyes with you.

Shit. You quickly set your gaze somewhere else, anywhere else. Trying to find something to do, you spun around to face the table of refreshments, grabbing a glass of wine and finishing it in one breath. Gwyn and Emerie were asking you questions but you could barely hear them over the sound of your own heartbeat. Had Nesta really told Cassian that she could dance? And in turn had he told Azriel?

“I can’t believe you have never danced before” Emerie said as Gwyn nodded her agreement. You focussed on the next glass of wine you had picked up, you can’t recall how much you had already had to drink but you needed the drink to numb the embarrassment.

A male voice cleating their throat came from behind you. Gwyn and Emerie stopped chatting and silently excused themselves. Slowly, you turned around to face Azriel. His hazel eyes met yours and you couldn’t tell if it was the wine or his presence that made your knees buckle slightly.

“Care to dance” his deep voice drowned out the music in your ears.

You swallowed hard “I can’t”. You lowered your eyes to your hand which were now fiddling with the fabric on your dress.

“Humour me” Azriel pressed.

“That’s exactly what I will do if I dance” your face flushed. He smirked slightly, taking a step closer to you.

“It’s just like training” you dared to look at him again. His eyes were soft. “You are just learning something new”.

“Yes, and I suck at that too” you rolled your eyes slightly.

“No. You don’t” Azriel held out his scared hand. “Trust me” his voice was a whisper.

“You keep telling me to do that” you narrowed your eyes slightly, ignoring the hand he offered to you.

“And how has that worked out for you?” he raised a brow questioningly. You paused for a moment, trying to think back to each time he had told you to trust him. It had always ended perfectly fine, and in all fairness to him, he hadn’t asked you to trust him before letting you fall a few feet earlier that evening. His eyes didn’t leave yours as he watched you think, his hand still outstretched for you to take.

You sighed deeply, glancing round the room to make sure no one was watching. He smiled sweetly as you placed your delicate hand in his. A tilt from his head was all you needed in order to follow him to a gap on the dancefloor. The music had stopped momentarily, allowing Azriel to pull you into position. You stood facing one another but your mind was elsewhere. Scanning the room, wishing you could just disappear out of site from the onlookers surrounding the floor.

“Look at me” Azriel deep voice softly whispered, you obeyed. “Put this hand on my shoulder here” he moved your hand into position “and this one stays holding mine” he gestured to your enclosed hands. “Stand closer to me” his deep voice sent a small shiver down your spine. You moved a miniscule step closer to him, closing the gap between your bodies slightly.

He smirked before resting his other hand on your waist and pulling you in, even closer. You stumbled forward slightly but he caught you. Your bodies were barley an inch away from each other’s. Where his hand lay on your side, sent heat rising to your cheeks. You regained your balance, finding your attention still focused on the people watching you. That was until shadows began to circle the two of you, not to complete darkness but more like a light fog.

“Now you can concentrate on me” he regained your attention. “No onlookers” his soft smile broke through the wall you had put up. The gesture put you slightly more at ease. You can trust him, you told yourself.

The music started playing again, a beautiful slow melody. “Listen to the music” Azriel instructed. “Do you hear the beat. One, two, three. One, two, three” you nodded as you kept in time to the beat. “Now, I’ll lead. Step in time to each beat, starting with your left foot forward”.

You did as he said. Moving your feet to the beat as Azriel kept counting. You stared down at your feet, watching each movement. A warm, gentle hand caressed your chin, pulling you to look upwards. “Keep looking at me” his hazel eyes were captivating as you kept dancing, now keeping time to the beat without his help. He removed his hand from you chin and placed it back on your waist.

“Sorry” you cringed as you stepped on his foot.

“It’s fine” he squeezed your hand in an encouraging gesture. “Try again”. Azriel rebalanced the both of you and you started again. By the end of the first song, you were beginning to get the hang of it. The second song started playing, luckily the tempo hadn’t changed and the two of you carried on dancing.

The world seemed to melt away as you looked into his hazel eyes. His hand at your waist kept you close to his body and his other wrapped around yours. You felt your chest lighten as he smiled down at you, looking at you like you had never been looked at before. You got lost in his eyes as you returned the smile, a slight blush in your cheeks as he began spinning you.

You managed to keep your footing as he would catch you, holding you tightly after each twirl. The music became part of you, so quickly the dancing became second nature. “Just like training” he whispered into your ear. You flushed at his hot breath against your ear.

You became so engulfed in the male that held you that you hadn’t realised he had dropped the shadows. The whole room was now able to watch as the two of you danced in perfect synchronisation. Your blue dress sparkled and floated gracefully as Azriel spun you again. A small laugh escaping both of your lips as he pulled you back in.

It was like being in a fairy tale as he led you around the dancefloor so effortlessly. You couldn’t supress the shy smile as he pulled you closer to him. The smile he returned made your breath hitch in your throat. The music came to a close yet again, but Azriel still held you in place. Readying for the next dance. His eyes not leaving yours until…

“Sorry, could I step in?” a small female voice spoke from beside you, whisking you suddenly away from your trance. You turned your attention to Elain. Everything that you had felt during the dance came crashing down instantly, as you looked upon her beautiful face. The face of the girl Azriel had been dancing with most of the night.

You shook yourself into reality. “Of course” you took a step backwards and out of Azriel’s strong arms, feeling a slightly unwilling release from your hand. You glanced at his unreadable face as Elain thanked you, taking his arm in her own. You only nodded your head in return, telling yourself you must have imagined that reluctant release.

As the music began playing, you hurried off the dancefloor. Not wanting to turn back and look at Azriel and Elain. Once again in each other’s arms. You could still feel the warmth of his hand in yours, could still see the smile on his face as he led you around the dancefloor. The thought made your chest tighten but you pushed it deep down.

You had almost made it to the refreshment stand when you came face to face with one of the males from earlier. “Do you think I could have that dance now?” his metal eye whirled slightly as he held out his hand to you. You paused for a second, about to reject him for the second time tonight when something inside you stopped yourself.

“Yes” you placed your hand in his and he led you to the dancefloor. Without meaning too, you looked towards Azriel and Elain. Briefly catching Azriel’s unreadable eyes as the male spun you to face him.

“My names Lucian by the way” he introduced himself. You began dancing, remembering what Azriel had taught you.

“Nice to meet you Lucian” you smiled up at his handsome face. “I’m Y/N”.

The two of you danced sweetly together. It wasn’t quite the same feeling as it had been with Azriel but it was pleasant. Lucian soon realised you weren’t the most skilled dancer, after stepping on his toes on multiple occasions.

“I’m so sorry” you cringed after standing on his foot yet again.

“Honestly, it’s fine” he reassured you. “Is it your first ball?”.

“Is it that obvious?” you laughed at his good manners.

“Not at all” he lied but there was comforting amusement behind his eyes. The two of you danced together for three songs. Making pleasant convocation before you retired to get refreshments. “It was nice meeting you Y/N, and thank you for the honour of dancing with me” he bowed his farewell to you.

“You too” you smirked. “I hope you can still feel your toes” he laughed then kissed the back of your hand before taking his leave.

~~

As the night came to a close Nesta showed you and Emerie to your rooms. Due to there being a lot of alcohol consumed, she thought it best that no one flew or winnowed either of you home.

You got ready for bed whilst Emerie told you about all her different dance partners. She ranked them all and gave them a rating on how good their footwork was. You laughed as you sunk into the comfortable bed, adjacent to hers.

“What about you?” she asked. “How was your first ever dances?”

“They were good” you answered. “Although I do feel sorry for Lucian, I must have trodden on him a dozen times” Emerie laughed in response.

“What about Azriel?” the question hung in the air for a long moment. You tried not to think of the dance you shared with him and how it had briefly made you feel. Clearly all you felt was some childish crush towards him, you admitted.

“He’s a good teacher” you said with a soft sigh. “Good night” you said before Emerie could ask any further questions.

“Good night” she yawned, and the lights went out. You hugged the covers right up to your neck as you wished for sleep to take you before your mind started racing.

Chapter 6

[dameronology]

never doubt me {cassian andor}

summary: after falling into the hands of the empire, a situation of life and death forces you and cassian to finally talk about your feelings {for @megmeg-chan and i am sO sorry it’s taken me so long to do this}

summary: language, mentions of injury, talks ab death/loss in a canon kinda way 

enjoy!! i haven’t written for cassian in so long and i forgot how much i loved him, so expect more of him in the future😌

- jazz

Cassian Andor was a filthy liar. 

No, deep breath. He wasn't that bad. 

The situation was just really fucking irritating and, in all likelihood, making your anger towards him a little more irrational. It wasn't really even his fault either. He'd told you incessantly that the mission was going to go well, and that you both going to be fine. Like, totally fiiiine, and that you would both get into the base without trouble and reunite in the middle, near the Imperial comms system. It was just that neither of you had planned for or expected stormtroopers to be present -- he'd gotten away in one piece, but you hadn't been so lucky. 

That brings us to now: a cell, with two stormtroopers parked outside and quite literally no sign of Cassian anywhere. You knew he'd be looking for you; in fact, you didn't doubt it once. There was a sort of unspoken pact between you that you would always rescue one another; always have each other's backs and never leave the other behind. It was born from the fact that friendships were hard to forge in your line of work, and what you and Cassian had was rare. Not even just in the Rebellion, but rather life in general. On the surface, you teased and ripped into one another to no end. The chemistry was almost suffocating for the people around you, because they could never get a word in edge ways. Then, if you dug a little deeper, there was something more. Something sweeter, something more supportive. You knew him better than he knew himself and in return, he could read you like his favourite novel (though, admittedly, it did sometimes feel like you were missing a few pages. Human complexity and all that).

‘Do you feel like speaking now?’ The modulated voice of one of the stormtroopers came from the other side of your cell door.

‘I’ll die before telling you jackshit.’ You muttered. Hopefully that was more of a statement and less of a prophecy.

The trooper snorted. ‘Okay, sweetheart-’

‘- call me that again and I will shove that blaster sideways up your ass.’ You spat.

‘The only thing you’re doing is rotting here.’ 

With that, he turned his back to you again. 

You slumped further down the wall, ignoring the feeling of the cold concrete etching through the thin fabric of your shirt. It was cold in here. Really, really fucking cold, and Cassian had said you wouldn’t need a jacket. Then again, he’d said a lot of things. And again, none of it was his fault, but you cursed yourself for so blindly listening to him. It was nice that you took everything the other said as gospel, even if it came back to bite you in the ass every so often. 

‘A word of advice-’

‘- I don’t want any advice.’ You turned away from the trooper, pulling you knees to your chest. 

‘The sooner you talk, the less painful it’ll be.’ He ignored your refusal. 

You didn’t need to ask what he meant by it. You’d been part of the Rebellion long enough to have heard stories -- stories of torture, stories of war and the the kind of horrors that people often took to the grave.  You had a fair few of your own, and so did Cassian. That was probably why he’d become so important to you. He was one of the only people in the galaxy who truly understood the downfalls of being a Rebel spy. Your cause was more important to you than anything (well, almost anything) and you wouldn’t have changed it for the world, but there were times like this where you wondered if it was all worth it. Would there ever come a day where the Empire truly fell, once and for all? And would you even be around to see it? Would Cassian? 

Speaking of the devil, where the fuck was he? He never usually took this long. A few hours at most, but you’d long surpassed that. You could only very barely see the sky through the tiny window, but the sky had faded from powder blue to a dark navy, signalling it had been well over half a day. That was bad for multiple reasons -- the first being that the longer you were here, the more likely Cassian was to assume the worst and stop searching. Secondly, and perhaps most hauntingly, was that each passing second brought you closer to the Imps dragging you out the cell and taking you for questioning. And questioning, in their books, didn’t involve much talking. Go figure.

The injuries you sustained in your capture were bad enough; a bust lip, bruised eye and twisted ankle never made for much comfort. Even less so when you couldn’t get medical attention. The fact you knew it would be the least of your problems in a few hours made it all that much worst. 

You’d never doubted Cassian Andor before. Not once. Couldn’t even fathom it, truth be told. He always came through for you; always saved your ass, whether it be from yourself or from Imps. He was your person. That’s the only way you could have put it.

But, above all, he was a human being. Not a super hero, or a miracle worker. He could only do so much and you knew he would. He would follow every lead and every clue to try and get to you, but that’s all he could do. If he couldn’t find you, that wasn’t him on him. You doubted that he would think the same, and when you heard the lock to your cell open, you could only hope and pray that he knew that. That you weren’t going to blame him for what was about to happen, or hold it against him. 

‘It’s time.’ The stormtrooper announced. ‘Hope you can handle a bit of pain.’

You took a deep breath. ‘I can handle anything.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it.’ He guffawed. ‘Hands out.’

‘C’mon, man.’ You murmured. ‘My legs gone, my lips bust and my head feels someone’s dropped an iron anvil on it. You don’t need to cuff  - ouch!’

You let out a squeak as he grabbed your wrists, tugging them forward and shoving a pair of metal cuffs on them. Was this really it? The end? Was your name gonna be the next one on the list of people lost in the Rebellion? That was if anybody even noticed. 

Cassian would. Of course, Cassian would. It hurt your heart to think that you wouldn’t see him again, or get to say a proper goodbye. The last time you’d seen him, you’d been dragged away from him kicking and screaming. He’d been so close, and if he’d been just a little nearer when they’d got you, he might have been able to save you, to stop you from falling into the hands of the Empire. You always figured that if you were gonna die in the field, he’d be by your side. The dumbassery you so often found yourselves in usually happened together. 

The walls of the Imperial base were dark - as if you’d expected anything else. It was hardly like the place was going to look like a bright, airy Ikea showroom. The only light came from the thousands of tiny red and blue buttons flickering on the wall, illuminating the hallways in what would have been a pretty glow if the circumstances weren’t so fucking miserable. Talk about a high way to hell.

You took another left, the trooper’s grip on you tightening as you neared some double towards the end. Yep, here it was. This is where you met your maker.  And from what you’d heard, the six-foot-something guy in a black mask did not take prisoners. Not that he was the one you were thinking of. No, that was Cassian. Completely and entirely Cassian; just his face and his presence and his everything at the back of your mind, the last thing you could think of before you were about to die for your cause-

-you let out an oof! as the stormtrooper suddenly pulled you to the ground, practically using you as a human shield against the blaster fire and smoke grenade that had just come from behind you. You tried to use your elbows to push him off, but with the cuffs and your already existing injuries, he easily overpowered you. Also, you were too busy coughing from the smoke to even think about making a getaway.

Tumbling forward, you fell onto your hands and knees. The trooper’s gun clattered to the ground, and you used your good leg to kick it further out the way, eyes not moving from the cloud of smoke that come out of the grenade. The red and blue lights were beating down on it, casting a purple glow over the shadow of whoever had thrown it, acting as a guide as they finally emerged. With a blaster in one hand and the other curled into a fist, your best friend had never quite looked so handsome, especially under the violet illuminations.

‘Cassian!’ Despite everything, you couldn’t help but grin. 

‘Duck.’ He demanded. 

You did as he said, flopping back to the floor. Squeezing your eyes shut and covering your head, you stayed there for a moment. There was another blast, and then the trooper’s body fell beside yours with a dull thud! 

Then, in what must have been two of most contrasting feelings ever, a warm pair of hands found yours. Cassian’s, undoubtedly. You would have known them anywhere. He pulled you up from the cold ground, warm palms finding your face as they ghosted over your cheeks.

‘It’s okay.’ His voice was soft. ‘You can open your eyes.’

You took a deep breath. ‘I know. Thank you.’

‘How badly are you hurt?’ He asked. ‘Because we need to move fast.’

‘My foot’s pretty wrangled.’ You said. 

Without another word, Cassian threw an arm over your shoulders, tucking it under your arms to support you. 

‘Lean against me.’ He instructed. ‘The exit isn’t too far-’

‘- what about the other troopers?’ You asked.

‘I dealt with them on my way in.’

And dealt with them, he certainly had. The men were practically laying in unconscious piles (he only ever intended to maim, but never kill), working as some kind of fucked up map out of a twisted and horrible maze.  The pain in your leg only grew worst as you moved, your good leg beginning to ache from carrying all the weight. With all your attention focused ahead of you for potential enemies, you didn’t even notice how close you were to stumbling over -- not until you fell back onto the cold lino floors. 

‘Hey.’ Cassian dropped beside you. ‘Look at me, okay, just...look at me.’

You glanced up, tired eyes meeting his warm, brown ones. ‘It really hurts, Cass.’

‘We’re really close now.’ He said. ‘Two more minutes. Can you do that? For me?’

‘Yeah.’ You took a deep breath and nodded. ‘I can.’

(Because really, for him, you’d do anything.) 

Cassian helped you back up, pressing one of his blasters into your hand. His arm returned to hold you by the waist, gripping you a little tighter this time. Your leg was practically screaming in pain, a dull ache shooting from your ankle up to your knee. You had to remind yourself that in a few minutes, it would all be over - and not in the way you thought it was going to be over an hour ago. Over, as in this whole ordeal would simply be something to report back to your bosses at base, and not your final moments. The fact you ever let yourself accept that fate and think that Cassian wouldn’t come for you was something else entirely in itself. 

You almost cried with relief when you saw his battered old ship docked outside the base. You normally cried for other reasons when you saw it - usually ones to do with the rusty old engines and creaking sound it insisted on making whenever it flew - but right then, you had never been happier to see it. Even if the insides smelt weirdly of petrol and oil, and the seats in the cockpit were made of uncomfortable cracked leather, you practically threw yourself on board. 

Neither you nor Cassian said anything for a while. His attention was completely on getting away from the base and avoiding TIE fighters - something he did without ever moving his hand from your thigh - and yours was on steadying your breathing and heartbeat. It had been a rough twelve hours to say the least. 

Once the ship had lurched into hyperspace, he turned in his chair to face you. He held your gaze for a moment, before opening his arms out and letting you flop from your own seat and into his chest. They tightly wrapped around you, one hand softly your head to his body and the other gently rubbing up and down your back. You had to squeeze your eyes shut to stop your tears from spilling. 

‘I’m sorry.’ He murmured.

‘For what?’ You peered up at him with a frown. 

‘Not finding you sooner.’ He replied. ‘Or for even letting you get caught in the first place-’

‘- Cassian, stop.’ You pulled back and tangled his hands in yours. ‘Once I get some bactaspray, I’ll be totally fine.’

‘But you almost weren’t.’ He shot back. ‘If I was just a few minutes later and you could have been a thousand times worst, or even...gone completely.’

‘That’s beside the point.’ You softly sighed. ‘It’s doesn’t matter would have beens or could have beens. I am here and I will be okay.’

‘You’re right.’ He nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I just...I want to protect you, you know? And I failed.’

‘You don’t need to protect me, Cass.’ You shook your head with a soft smile. ‘Actually, no, today I did but you pulled through.’

‘I don’t need to, but I want to.’ Cassian murmured. 

He’d done a pretty good job at sitting on his feelings for the last few years. Pushed them down when he felt the urge to tell you, and ignored them entirely when they got really intense. But that had been when the threat of completely losing you was just that: a threat. A distant possibility, and one that you were both too busy living your lives to fully consider. Now, however, you’d come close. Too close. Cassian had come face-to-face with a reality where you were gone, and one where he’d never actually told you how he felt. 

‘You know I love you, right?’ He quietly said. 

‘Yeah, I know.’ You nodded. 

‘No, I mean I love you.’ 

You peered up at him, realising what he was getting at. You did know. In fact, it had very much been an unspoken thing between you for a very, very long time. It was really just a matter of saying it - but that was always the hardest part, right? 

‘I know.’ You repeated. ‘I love you too.’

‘You do?’

You softly laughed. ‘Of course I do.’ 

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and pulled you back against his chest, chin resting atop your ahead. ‘Good.’

You stayed like that for a few minutes; it was undoubtedly a deeper conversation you were going to have later on, but it felt good to have it out in the open. So good, in fact, that it momentarily made you forget the last day entirely. Instead of pondering on it, you let yourself get lost entirely in Cassian’s presence, and the feeling of his body against yours and and his arms holding you. If you could have it your way, you would have stayed like this forever. The rest of the galaxy could wait. 

‘I’m sorry if you thought I was going to make in time.’ He said quietly. 

‘I didn’t.’ Your voice was slightly muffled by his chest. ‘Not once.’

‘I love you.’ Cassian said it more firmly this time. It still completely felt weird to say, and even more so to see you smile and say it back.

‘I love you too.’

He dipped his head down, capturing your mouth in a soft kiss. The feeling of your lips against his was familiar and foreign all at once; it was something he’d gone over in his head a thousand times, but it was nothing like either of you had imagined. It was better. Sweeter, in the kind of way that gave you butterflies in your tummy and made you feel giddy. It was worlds away from the usual dread and bloodshed that came with being in the Rebellion. 

But that was quintessentially Cassian. He was everything that the war wasn’t: sweet and constant and warm. Somebody as beautiful and as caring as him both did and didn’t belong in the Rebellion. Did, because he was a good man who wanted to fight for the right thing. Didn’t, because he constantly risked his life for the greater good and you couldn’t quite stomach that idea. 

‘I’ll always come back for you.’ He lightly brushed his hand against your cheek. ‘Never doubt me.’

‘I won’t.’ You promised. ‘Not ever.’ 

tags: @megmeg-chan @karasong @bb8sworld @marvelinsanity @poestardust @etherealsanakin @bo-kryze​ @punkbach​ @phoenixhalliwell​

[mmvalentine]

Pomegranate pt 3 | Feysand

Hades/ Persephone inspired AU. Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Rhysand stalks around the townhouse all night, and into the next morning. His inner circle are concerned, but do not approach. They know him well enough to know that attempts at communication are fruitless when the High Lord is in this mood.

By evening, Rhys is back at the Spring Court, but Tamlin has placed sentries in the field where he used to meet Feyre. They trample the wildflowers.

Rhys makes his way to the manor, pulling the shadows tightly to him so he can move unseen. He unfurls his wings and glides over the roof, landing lightly on the tiles and listening closely for Feyre’s thoughts. Prior to now, he has refrained from listening into Feyre’s mind out of respect for her privacy. But now, he has no other way to locate her.

Rhys eventually hears her in a room on the top level of the house, in the east corner. Her mind sounds just like her voice: soft and curling like the wispy ends of clouds. He waits a moment to make sure no one is with her, and no one is approaching, and then slides easily in through the window.

“Hello little one,” Rhys says lightly.

Feyre whirls around from where she is sitting at the dresser, and her eyes go wide. She opens her mouth as if to speak, but then seems to think better of it and just crosses the room into his arms. Rhys strokes her hair, but feels grim even as she clings to him.

“Hello you,” she says eventually, and her voice shakes. “How did you find me?”

“We made a deal,” Rhys says in response. “I have to visit you every day for another three months, remember?”

“That’s true,” Feyre says, and the relief is heavy on her face. And then she smiles a crooked smile. “Or maybe you just finally had an excuse to make it into my bedroom.”

Rhys tugs her toward her bed and sits down on the end of it. Feyre moves to sit next to him, but Rhys pulls her into his lap instead.

“So,” he says. “This is your prison, huh?” His eyes rove around the room, and Feyre’s follow.

“As my father likes to point out, no prison has quite so many trinkets or soft furnishings.”

“Can you go out, or have people in?” Rhys asks.

“No, of course not.”

“Then it’s still a prison.”

Feyre’s eyes fill with tears, but they do not fall. “I know,” she says quietly. Rhys kisses her then, because he doesn’t want her to cry.

“Did you ever try to escape?” he whispers to her.

“Once,” Feyre admits. “Last year. I got locked in after I got caught with the stable boy. I tried to leave. I failed. And I was punished.” Feyre does not expand on this, and Rhys does not push any further. Tamlin’s temper is infamous in Prythian, and although Rhys’s father never liked him, nor did he provoke him.

“Well maybe I will steal you away after all,” Rhys murmurs. Feyre gives a brittle laugh. “What?” Rhys asks. “Would it be so terrible to be a member of my court?” Feyre tilts her head.

“Do you know what my father says about your court?” she says.

“Tell me,” Rhys prompts. Feyre takes a deep breath and then sighs, her shoulders lifting and then slumping with the movement.

“He says, in the Night Court they torture people for fun. He says they are a savage people, who rip out the throats of their enemies with their teeth. He says they live in the dark do depraved things that are not fit to see the sunlight.”

Rhys watches her for a moment. Feyre is playing with the lapels of his jacket, and looks at her hands while she talks.

“Oh yes,” he says eventually. “We bathe in the blood of those we have conquered, and dance naked in the light of the moon.” Feyre looks up, alarmed for a second. And then she laughs, and so does Rhys.

“I’d like to see you dance naked,” she teases.

“Anything for you, little blossom,” he says, and yanks at the top buttons of his shirt. Feyre laughs again, and swats his hand away. Rhys says “shhhh” and waves her to be quiet, and Feyre buries her face in his shoulder and shakes with silent laughter. “It’s not funny!” Rhys says. “I’ll be hanged if I’m caught in here.”

Feyre lifts her face, suddenly serious. “Don’t go,” she says. Then she shakes her head, and looks down again. “You can’t stay. You should leave.”

“Okay I’m getting mixed messages here,” Rhys says, trying to meet her eyes. Feyre doesn’t look up. “Hey,” he says softly. “I’m going to get you out. And you can come live with me in the Night Court, and I’ll make you Queen of the darkness.”

Finally, Feyre raises her eyes and looks up at him through her lashes.

“I’ll run the revels,” she whispers.

“You’ll sever heads.”

“I’ll sharpen my teeth.”

“You’ll howl at the moon.”

“I’ll spill the wine.”

“You’ll rule them all.”

“And we’ll always be together.”

“And we’ll always be together.”

Feyre’s hands have tightened on the back of Rhys’s neck, and he loves the fierce light that has sparked in her eyes. He puts his lips next to Feyre’s ear.

“And then one day, we’ll come back here, and burn Tamlin’s house to the ground. And I’ll put you on the Spring throne where you belong.”

Feyre looks at him, and he watches a hundred dreams and nightmares flicker in the ocean of her eyes.

And then watches them all blow out.

“You should go,” Feyre says. She kisses him with her hands clenched in his collar. “You’re not safe here.”

“Neither are you,” Rhys tells her, leaning his forehead against hers.

“I’m safe,” Feyre says. “I’m just not free.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“I don’t know. But you should go before my father comes, he always makes sure I’m still here.”

“Okay,” Rhys says. “Just one thing before I go.” And then he pulls her mouth back to his.

Rhys kisses her slowly, at first. Takes his time committing the taste of her to memory, the curve of her bottom lip beneath his tongue. Feyre is so warm in his lap, and despite the direness of their situation, Rhys can’t muster any worry for it. Not right now. When his tongue finds Feyre’s, she makes the sweetest moan, and he wants to wrap around her body until there’s nothing between them.

Feyre shifts in his lap, and suddenly he’s on fire. She burns him everywhere she touches him, or maybe he’s burning from the inside. Rhys isn’t sure, but he’s pulling them back to lie down on Feyre’s plush blankets, and now she’s beneath him and she’s still kissing him like she’s trying to destroy him.

“Put your hands on me,” Feyre whispers to him, and Rhys doesn’t need to be told twice. He grips her hip, and then smooths his hand up her waist to her ribcage. His thumb strokes the underside of her breast, and he savours the shiver this elicits from her. Runs the pad of his thumb back and forth gently, before squeezing her whole breast in his hand. He can feel her nipple against his palm, and the two of them exhale in unison.

Rhys squeezes her again, and then breaks the kiss to watch her face as he tugs at the lace in the front of her dress. Feyre’s face flushes, and he can feel her heart thudding. But she arches her back up toward him, and he undoes enough of her bodice to be able to slide his hand under it. Feyre’s eyes close and her lips part, and Rhys kisses her again as he touches her bare skin.

“You feel perfect,” he tells her. “I am undone. You are perfect.”

Feyre pulls his face back to her, and the way his hips rock into her is completely involuntary. He moves his hand on her breast, licks his tongue against hers, and forgets his own name.

Reality comes crashing in, loud and unwelcome, a minute later.

“Fuck!” Rhys says, his head snapping up.

“What?” Feyre startles.

“I can hear your father coming.”

“What?”

Rhys rolls off of Feyre, and she pulls her dress back together. “Go now,” Feyre hisses.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Rhys promises, and slides his hands under her jaw to kiss her once more.

“Don’t,” Feyre says. “It’s too dangerous."

“I don’t care,” Rhys replies. “I love you.”

“Rhys…”

“Tell me tomorrow.” He winks, and winnows.

When Rhys gets home, the court is in turmoil.

“High Lord,” Azriel says in greeting. His brother only uses his title when the news is very bad.

“What is it Azriel? What’s happening?”

Cassian and Mor step into the room then, and they’re all wearing the same look on their faces. Rhys looks to the Shadowsinger.

“Hybern is on the move.”

****

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @asteria-of-mars @fandomstalker27 @realbookloverproblems @dealfea @s-tormwitch @cretaceous-therapod @whenyadoesntcutit @scatterbrainedgirl @tanvee1231

[julemmaes]

honeybee

this is a following to my modern au nessian called drivers license (part one)

A/N: YOU REMEMBER WHEN I TOLD YOU I WASN'T SURE I WOULD'VE FINISHED DRIVERS LICENSE? CAUSE IT WAS LONG AND IT WAS TAKING A TOLL ON ME. WELL, FUCK ME. I DIDN'T KNOW REAL PAIN UNTIL I HAD TO FINISH THIS

the song this fic takes its name from is called honeybee and it's by the head and the heart

warnings: abusive household, description of violence, hospitalization

have fun I guess;)

Word count: 9,246

the day

When Nesta had broken up with Cassian in the middle of the night all those years ago, she had never imagined that her life would change so much.

Looking at the sparkling ring around her finger, with that delicate tiny diamond set in the equally fine and elegant silver band, she couldn't help but think that she had made the right choice when he had gotten up and decided to leave.

She had never regretted that call and she certainly wasn't starting to on her wedding day.

five years, three months and eighteen days before

Nesta had mentally prepared herself to see him once the door opened. She had prepared herself to see his dark hair tied back in a tousled bun and his thick eyelashes framing his equally dark eyes, still they would sparkle upon seeing her - as they had done every time since the day he had found her on that library's floor.

What she hadn't expected to find on his doorstep though, was the girl with blonde hair and long slender legs bare of any clothing and her torso covered by a t-shirt that Nesta recognised as one of Cassian's. A shirt she had worn several times over the months they had been together.

He looked into her face and it was hard not to notice the imprint left by the pillow on her cheek, her tired eyes still heavy with sleep. She had been sleeping.

Nesta glanced towards the living room, completely visible from where she was standing, and any hope she'd had at that moment that Mor was sleeping on the sofa vanished into thin air like smoke when she saw no pillows on the cushions. No blanket.

She looked back at Mor, who was now staring at her with a dumbfounded expression, as if she didn't believe she was standing there in front of Cassian's house. If she wasn't sleeping on the couch, it only meant she was sleeping in his bed.

He didn't have guest rooms, she knew that.

She was sleeping in his bed.

Her ears began to buzz and Nesta's vision fogged as she tried not to scream.

She had known.

Pursuing her lips into a thin line, she lifted her chin upwards a little, daring the girl in front of her to say something, and then turned, starting to walk towards her car, poised never to return.

She could feel her heart beating in her chest like a war drum and every step she took felt like her legs gave out a little more.

She was tired. She hadn't been able to sleep for weeks. To eat, study, read.

Nesta had died again under the unrelenting weight of the loneliness that had found peace the moment Cassian had set foot in her life and that had swept through her existence like a hurricane, turning upside down everything beautiful she had managed to find.

She felt the sting of emotion build in her throat, the ever-growing knot of tears that couldn't wait to be released, that Nesta knew would explode as soon as she stepped into the car and his house was out of sight.

She was sleeping in his bed.

She had just tightened her fingers around the keys when she heard it, Morrigan's ringing voice, calling her, and then her hurried footsteps behind her. Nesta turned.

"You're making a mistake."

Her eyebrows shot up, "Sorry?"

Mor seemed to flinch at the tone of her voice, "You're making a mistake." Nesta had to laugh and didn't hold back the stunned chuckle that escaped her control as the blonde continued, "You shouldn't leave."

She seethed, "You're wearing his clothes." she pointed out, taking a step forward and then another, forcing the other to walk backwards. She looked into her eyes, frowning, "You were sleeping in his bed only a few minutes ago," her words spoken in a whisper, but the poisonous emotion and hatred that laced the words conveyed everything Nesta was feeling, "why would I stay?"

Mor remained silent, studying her face, "Cass should be here any minute."

The way she said his name. Cass, like she had some kind of dominion over his person. Like she was the only one who knew him.

Nesta couldn't stop the words before they were out, "Why?"

And this time she wasn't asking her why she should stay, wait for him to come back. No.

She took another step forward, "Why did you let him lie to me? Why did youlie to me?"

The dull, dormant pain she'd felt that month woke up like a child pulled from sleep by a nightmare and hit her full in the chest. That emptiness that should have been filled with anger, jealousy, betrayal.

"Why not ask him to leave me? Why steal someone else's boyfriend?"

And at those words, she recoiled, because it wasn't true. Morrigan had never stolen Cassian from her.

Cassian had never been hers in the first place.

The girl opened her mouth to reply, but Nesta didn't give her time to speak and raised a hand, continuing, "Cause I ask myself that every night. I wonder what he sees in you," she laughed, letting out a choked breath as her eyes filled with tears, "What else do you have? You're older, it's true. You're prettier, blonder, taller. Perfect." she spat that word out in disgust.

"And you know what? I knew it. God, I knew it and I was pretending not to. The way his gaze would occasionally wander when we were talking or the mornings when he'd arrive at school in his clothes from the day before because he'd been to your place and hadn't slept." she clenched her hands into fists and smiled mischievously when she saw Mor swallow.

She was about to attack, to bite, to strike wherever she could to regain the dignity that had been stripped from her, but a deep, surprised voice interrupted her, "Nesta?"

She stiffened, turning around slowly. She didn't want to say anything, she just wanted to run to her car, get on and drive away, but what was in front of her knocked the breath out of her.

Nothing. There was nothing of the man she had loved in front of her now. The ghost of what Cassian had been no more than forty days before.

His eyes were slightly wide and that excited glint Nesta had hoped to see when he opened the door was just a miserable memory, because the hazel brown she loved so much was gone, covered by an opaque veil of sadness and pain she saw every day in the mirror.

Her gaze fell on the slightly hollowed cheeks and deep dark circles under his eyes, the messy, grimy hair, the dirty clothes that looked like they hadn't been changed in days, and finally to the cast around his left arm.

"What happened to you?" she asked in a weak voice.

He sighed and his eyebrows drew together. His shoulders visibly sagged and then the bag he held in his right hand fell to the ground as he took a step forward, "Nesta." he breathed.

She looked into his eyes, "What did you do?"

He gave a half-smile, bringing his free hand to his broken arm, "I-" then chuckled, "You're here."

"Cassian." Mor's voice made them both turn, but Nesta's eyes quickly went back to the man.

She needed to know if he was going to enter the house with her or listen to her, should she speak.

It was as if he hadn't even heard the blonde. "How are you?" he asked her, taking a step towards her.

Nesta couldn't connect her brain to her mouth, she was like a broken record when she asked, "What happened to you?" because Cassian wasn't well. And she wasn't talking about the broken arm or the dirty clothes, she was talking about the light that she saw was going out even now with every passing second.

She couldn't move, but she wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he came to his senses.

"Nothing," he said with that stupid weak smile on his lips, "you came here- do you want to talk? Can we talk?"

She heard Mor inhale sharply and then saw her walk around her until she was in front of him, and although they were close, Nesta couldn't hear what she said. She felt her heart break a little more and wondered how it was possible that it wasn't already sand in her chest. All she knew was that Cassian stiffened and swallowed twice when Morrigan finished talking to him.

"I should go." she managed to whisper, torturing her fingers.

He shook his head, taking a step forward and the blonde's hand snapped on his arm. Both their eyes fell on that touch and Nesta couldn't take it anymore, she had to go. The grip of her lacquered nails around his jacket was overbearing, possessive, but it was also familiar to his body and he wasn't retreating.

She took a step back, intending to run away and never return, and lost her balance, stumbling on the grass of the flowerbed. She opened her eyes wide and saw the way Cassian lunged forward to catch her, but Nesta was already on the ground. She cursed under her breath and the urge to cry only increased when she realised she had fallen onto a yellow rose bush.

Nesta burst out laughing at the irony of the picture they were composing at that moment.

"Nes, are you alright?"

If it hadn't been for Elain explaining to her the meaning of flowers every spare minute of her days, she would never have laughed, but the fact that she was now removing the thorns of a plant that represented jealousy and betrayal while standing in front of the man she loved and the girl who had managed to take him away from her was comical.

She stood up perhaps a bit too quickly as her head spun wildly and a myriad of black dots blurred her vision. She staggered a little and it didn't escape Cassian's attention as he moved even closer and wrapped his hand around her wrist. Nesta held her breath at the touch of his skin, so warm, so rough.

He was looking at her with a wrinkled expression and she just wanted the ground to swallow her whole when he asked, "Have you eaten today?"

She looked at him in amazement for a second, breathing out a laugh and then turned her head to the side, biting her lip. Because of course he was going to find out. That Nesta was no longer living.

After all, this Nesta, the Nesta who was now staggering around like a desperate drunk in his front yard, was the same Nesta he had met on that library floor.

She snatched her hand from his grasp and without looking at him walked towards the car, "Goodbye Cassian."

"Nesta, what- where are you going?" he asked her, following her, his hands raised as if he could grab her, keep her with him once he reached her.

She turned her head and caught him by surprise as he jerked back when she pointed a finger at him, too close. "I'm leaving and I have no intention of coming back. Don't follow me. I was wrong to come here in the first place."

The shock on his face was like receiving a punch in the gut. He lowered his arms, defeated.

"Why are you here?" he said softly. And it was as if he wasn't really asking the question. It was as if his mouth had finally decided to speak the words that had been rumbling around in his head until that moment.

Nesta shook her head and a weak sob broke her breath, "I can't."

Cassian stood there as she made her way to her car and when she finally touched the door and opened it, feeling the relief of freedom, he met her gaze from over the roof. She met Mor's gaze and felt the world crash down on her again. Heavier. More imposing.

Cassian took a step forward, "Why are you here?"

And Nesta exploded, "Cause I still fucking love you."

Her voice broke on the last word and she didn't even notice as tears began to stream down her face, "Because I still love you!" she screamed, slamming the door and spinning around the car, "Because I love you and I don't have-" a sob broke the sentence, "And I'm not okay! But you seem to be doing just fine without me!" she squealed even louder, bringing a hand to her chest. "I'm hurting! I'm hurting and I'm alone! And I miss you!"

She couldn't see it, but his eyes were glazed over too, and as he slowly approached her, a lone tear slid down his cheek.

"Fuck!" she cursed, turning around again and opening the door. She took a deep breath amidst the crying and looked at him, really looked at him, trying to memorize every detail, "Goodbye."

He shook his head, "No."

And Nesta waited no longer, got into the car and drove away.

five years, three months and seventeen days before

Nesta

"How did you find my house?" asked Nesta, clutching her sweatshirt to her chest.

Mor, in all her beauty and poise, stood at the door of her house, with her own clothes on this time.

"Hi Nesta." she said, biting her lip. Not out of embarrassment, to keep herself from saying anything else.

She didn't move, "How did you find my house?"

"I'd like to talk to you," she continued, still ignoring her question.

"It's hard to talk to a person if you keep ignoring what they say."

The blonde closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, "I know where you work, I followed you here."

Nesta's eyebrows shot up, "I could report you for stalking."

Mor gave a tight smile, "But you won't. Can we talk?"

Nesta felt the sudden urge to call the police, just to show her that she could, but she only said, "Why would we?"

"Because yesterday after you left, Cass tried to get in the car and follow you and he can't drive," Nesta found herself nodding thinking about his broken arm, weakened from the sleepless night, surely not because she wanted Mor to know she agreed with her. "I had to pull him out of the car by force to keep him from killing himself against a pole. I've never seen him so shaken up in my life and-"

Nesta interrupted her, "I don't know why you think it's my problem. You're his girlfriend now, the fact that you're coming to me for advice is concerning." then she stepped back, clasping her hand around the door to slam it in her face.

The audacity...

"Cassian still loves you."

She froze, holding her breath and looked Mor in the eye. She chuckled softly, shaking her head, "No, he doesn't."

The blonde huffed, bringing a hand to her forehead and moving a strand of hair, "I'm not his girlfriend anyway."

Nesta smiled sarcastically, "That too, the fact that you can't define your relationship, isn't my problem and I'd rather you leave."

Mor laughed in shock as her eyebrows shot up, "You're unbelievable," then she frowned, taking a step forward to push the door open, "Cassian and I aren't together. We never have been and I'm fucking lesbian."

Nesta's eyes widened in surprise, then she quickly recovered from her astonishment and shook her head, "It doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't it?"

"No, Morrigan," it was the first time she'd said her full name. That she was saying it directly to her, "It doesn't change anything because he would still leave in the middle of the night to come to you," she shifted her weight on her left foot, "It doesn't change anything because he chose you every day and I'm sorry I didn't realize that sooner. It would have saved everyone a lot more time and effort." then she held up a hand when she opened her mouth to retort, "And I don't care if you're lesbian or not. Cassian loves you and if he doesn't love you with words, he certainly does with actions."

Mor stared into her eyes for a while, silently, then nodded slowly, shifting her gaze to the houses around hers. She adjusted her sunglasses in her hair and then looked back at her, "Can I come in?"

"Why."

"Please, I just want to explain why what happened happened. And why things have changed or are changing, but I can't do that in half a minute and-" then she frowned, wincing, "Look, I'm not doing this because I particularly like you, but because Cassian has saved my life more times than he thinks and than he takes credit for. Talking to you is the least I can do to repay him in some way."

Nesta felt something tug at her heart and for a moment she thought about slamming the door in her face and going back to the couch to watch a black screen, but then she remembered the sleepless nights she'd spent thinking about what she could do. For her, for Cassian... to the person in front of her who was begging her to let her in, and she stepped aside.

The surprise on Mor's face was a small victory on Nesta's part, but she quickly recomposed herself, closing the door behind her once she was in the house and telling her to follow her into the living room.

And despite the situation, Mama Archeron had not raised her daughters to treat guests badly. She forced herself to say, "Can I get you anything? A drink, maybe water, I have wine if you want."

Mor gave the imitation of a smile, "I'd take something stronger, but I have to drive. Just water will do, thanks."

Nesta walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, and once inside she leaned against the table with both hands, breathing hard as if she had run a marathon. What was she doing?

She had let Morrigan, the reason for her break-up with the man she loved, into her house.

She closed her eyes, clenching her jaw, begging her body to relax, and then, when she realised it wouldn't take anyone that long to pick up two glasses and a bottle, she moved.

Walking back to the living room was like walking a thousand miles without ever eating, sleeping or drinking and by the time she sat down, she was exhausted. That conversation could have settled everything as well as confirmed any worries and erased any doubts Nesta had about leaving that city forever.

Mor drank a whole glass of water before she started talking and it didn't take long for her to realise that the girl was just as nervous as she was. The agitation evident only in the twirling motion of her ankle as she sat with her legs crossed.

She took a deep breath, "I've never talked about this with anyone but the boys." Nesta realized he was talking about Azriel and Rhysand, as well as Cassian. "So understand if I stop now and then, these aren't things I tell lightly."

She could only nod.

Mor cracked her fingers, then took a deep breath and brought one hand up to massage her right eyebrow, where Nesta had always noticed the small white scar that kept hair from growing there. It was the only thing that people could tell wasn't beautiful about the girl, but Nesta had never believed anything other than that it only added to her curiosity in getting to know the deity she actually was.

Every positive thought she'd ever had about that tiny scar disappeared as Mor began to speak and a horrible feeling clutched her stomach in an iron solid grip.

"My father is an alcoholic."

Nesta didn't react. She didn't know if she should say anything.

"He always has been. Even before I was born. I don't know how my mother ended up in a relationship with him, but she's a lost cause too. She started using drugs when I was around six. I still remember it like it was yesterday.

"Keir, my father, has also always been a violent man." Mor took a shaky breath, swallowing, "He did this to me," she whispered brushing the mark on her face, "when I was fourteen and got my period for the first time. He broke a bottle on my head-"

The fact she’d gotten her cycle so late only sprouted more doubts in Nesta’s mind while her thoughts ran wild, picturing a malnourished little girl in that broken home.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to," Nesta interrupted her, looking her in the eye, "I know you're trying to help me understand, that you're trying to help Cassian, but-"

Mor put a hand on her arm, blocking her, "Don't worry about it." she gave her a weak, sad smile, "I know I said I didn't like you, but Cassian loves you." seeing that Nesta was about to interrupt her one more time, she tightened her grip on her arm, "He loves you. And if this conversation ends the way I want it to, you'll be around for a long time to come. So you'd better be aware of everything, don't you think?"

There was something in Mor's voice that Nesta couldn't identify. She remained silent, contemplating her words, but then nodded weakly.

"There have been so many other episodes and I still bear the marks of most." she lowered her voice, clenching her fists several times. "If I'm here to tell you about them now though, it's only because of Cassian."

Nesta braced herself for what was to come.

Mor bit the inside of her cheek, "All the times he came to me in the night, all the times he left you alone at the last minute or had to come away in the middle of your dates... he was coming to save me." she said with teary eyes, "For years, they took turns as to who should come each time, between him and Rhys and Az. But when the other two had to leave a couple of years ago and only Cass stayed here, well," she sighed, propping an elbow on her knee and resting her forehead on her hand, "I feel guilty every day for what they do, what he does. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay him for everything he's managed to save in my life. My life itself. So I need you to understand that it's not his fault."

She looked into her eyes and Nesta was so shocked by everything she had just been told that she couldn't respond.

"The night you broke up with him," she resumed after a few moments, bringing a hand up to the neck of her jumper and shifting the fabric, revealing a portion of jagged skin just below her collarbone. The only evidence of just how bad the cut she had suffered must have been. "-I was going to die. Literally. I called the police so many times, Nesta, they never did anything. I didn't even try that night."

A rush of anger raced through her body at that truth. She knew she wasn't lying.

"My dad found out I liked girls, somehow, and things escalated quickly. My mom was half passed out on the couch and he had just come home," she paused abruptly, frowning. "The boys came into the house after I managed to lock myself in my room and while Az and Rhys were thinking about me, Cassian tried to take Kier down, that's why the broken arm."

Nesta's eyes went wide. For it to come to breaking a bone... it must have been a long night for everyone, frightening and scarring. She looked up at Mor, placing one hand on the one still on Nesta's arm and smiled reassuringly at her, but with a serious expression.

Mor returned the squeeze.

"I'm staying at Cassian's now, at least until the others find proper accommodation. We're all looking for a flat together so Cass can finally be free of us all." she said, fixing her eyes in hers, "From me. From everything."

Nesta nodded, then cleared her throat, finding her throat dry, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Why didn’t he, were the unspoken words.

Mor bit her lip, "It's my fault," she said apologetically, "I've been dealing with the opinion and criticism of the rest of the world my whole life. I didn't know you and all the guys' exes were always very quick to judge me without knowing anything at all about me. By the time I realised you weren't like the others it was too late."

"You can flip me off if this question is too personal, but why didn't you move out sooner? Why stay in that house if..." she didn't know how to finish the sentence, but it was enough to make the other answer.

"They controlled all my money and I was in no position to ask for financial support from the boys. I couldn't find anyone willing to help me get back what was mine by right, but we're looking for a way now. Az just got a job at a law firm, he just needs to convince them to take the case on probono." she smiled tensely and Nesta could tell that even that small act of generosity from her friend was weighing heavily on her.

Nesta ran her hands over her face, taking a deep breath as each piece fell into place and each question mark disappeared. Now that she knew the truth, it all made more sense.

But did that change things between her and Cassian? Did it change the fact that he had lied to her, despite for good reason?

She didn't have an answer.

But she did understand Mor. She understood why she had asked him not to tell her anything. It was the same reason she had never told anyone about Tomas except Cassian.

Looking at her out of the corner of her eye, as she poured herself another glass of water and drank it in one go, she made a decision.

She owed it to the person sitting next to her, to give Mor something back for the trust she’d put in her, she’d tell her everything about Tomas, her mother. The way her family had managed to heal and left her behind, alone, until Cassian.

She was about to open her mouth when Mor's phone rang and an amused smile appeared on her face. She lifted the phone so Nesta could see the caller's name and wrinkled her nose, "His ears must have been ringing, hmm?"

Mor chuckled and then answered, "Hello?"

In the deathly silence of the house, Nesta clearly distinguished the man's words.

"Mor, I'm so sorry about last night, we didn't mean to get drunk like that, I promise it won't happen again. I didn't think about what you would-"

"Calm down you overbearing mother hen," Mor said harshly, "but yes, it won't happen again."

"Where are you? Come home so I can make it up to you somehow."

The blonde smiled wickedly and looked at her nails before saying, "I'm at Nesta's."

A pregnant silence made its way into the room.

"What do you mean?"

"We're talking," the girl continued undisturbed.

Nesta had to restrain herself from laughing because she could well imagine the expression on his face at that moment.

"Mor, stop bullshitting."

"I'm not bullshitting, I'm serious, listen," and then she pushed the phone towards Nesta, who's eyes went wide, shaking her head. Mor nodded at her and she murmured a weak, "Hello, Cassian." before the blonde retracted the phone, bringing it to her ear again. "See?"

"What the fuck."

"Don't worry, I'll be home in less than ten minutes. I think." then she eyed Nesta, covering the microphone with one hand as Cassian began to insult her in every way imaginable. "Do you want to come with me?" she asked her with a hint of hope in her tone, "To talk to Cass maybe? I understand if you don't want to come, maybe you need more time."

But Nesta knew the truth now, and that seemed to be enough, so she nodded and smiled slightly at her. She owed it to Cassian too, to let him explain everything too.

Mor let out a squeak of happiness and then interrupted the list of insults that kept flowing from the phone, "Correction, we will be home in ten minutes."

“Morrigan-”

“Take a shower, we’ll be there in the blink of an eye.”

And then she ended the call without even saying goodbye.

Nesta snorted, "You gave him a heart attack."

Mor smiled at her, clapping her hands, "Do you need to get ready too?"

She looked at her clothes and thought that yes, she should have showered too, but furrowed her brow and grimaced, looking at her, "Actually, I wanted to apologize first. I know what it's like not to have the courage to talk about your problems and I know it must have been hard to talk to me. So thank you and sorry for calling you a cheating bitch."

Mor's eyes went wide, "He never told me-"

"Oh no, he doesn't know, but I felt the need to apologise for that too." she smiled sweetly.

The other burst out laughing and then they stayed at Nesta's for another good half hour, talking about their own terrible experiences with men, shedding a few tears and offering words of comfort only when necessary. They didn't notice how much time had passed until Az called Mor, asking if everything was all right. Overbearing mother hens, the blonde had said once the call had ended, but Nesta had gone to get dressed and now they were going to Cassian's house together.

Something had changed and she no longer felt the urge to slam Morrigan's head against the edge of the table every time she saw her, but things with Cassian would take weeks, months, before they were back to normal.

Or at least she thought so.

Cassian

"Cassian, where did you put... what the fuck are you doing?" asked Azriel as he entered his room.

His head snapped up, only giving his older brother a glance before he returned with his fullest attention to the room. He was running from side to side, tidying up as fast as he could, but with a broken arm, swamped with dirty laundry and cans poised on his fingers, he probably looked crazy now.

"Nesta is on her way here."

Azriel's eyes went so wide that for a moment he thought they were going to pop out of his head, "Meaning what?"

"Meaning that Morrigan," he grunted his friend's full name, wrinkling his nose when he found a pair of dirty underwear under the bed, "went to Nesta's house to talk and now she's bringing her here to-" he threw his arms up, dropping everything he'd picked up and feeling a note of pain in his left, but he didn't pay attention to it, "I don't know what she's bringing her here for, but this house is a mess and I have to shower and tidy everything up and find a way not to go crazy and make her-"

He froze suddenly again, feeling a gag of vomit rise in his throat after the unreasonable evening where they had probably scared Mor with all the alcohol they had ingested.

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair, "How long did she say they'd be here?"

Cassian shook his head, "I have no idea. I stared at the phone for ages after she hung up." he narrowed his eyes. "I need to wash up."

The other nodded, "Why don't you go take a shower and I'll clean up here? Rhys went out this morning and I don't have a clue where he is." he warned him, pushing him towards the bathroom.

Cassian had only grunted a vague reply to him and then gone to get ready and was genuinely shocked when he had come out and the house was actually all clean. He imagined that the two years he'd spent in the house with Rhys had paid off. He remembered how dirty and messy their room had been when they all still lived together.

He was tucking a t-shirt over his head when he heard Mor's ringing laughter followed by Nesta's controlled, but still lovely, laugh. Then Azriel said something else and they both burst into louder laughter and Cassian felt his heart tighten in his chest.

These last few weeks had been devastating.

When Nesta had told him to leave and never return, he'd had no choice.

It had been a matter of deciding between Mor's life and his relationship with Nesta, and as much as he loved her, there would be no way to convince his girlfriend that she had to go, that she couldn't let her friend get beaten up again. Or worse.

When he'd arrived at Kier's house, it had taken all his self-control not to grab the man's head and slam it against the wall and get it over with once and for all.

He'd spent the week after the breakup in bed, eating and only taking care of his body when others reminded him. With a broken arm it had been easy to tell everyone he couldn't do anything about it, but they'd heard him the times he'd cried at night thinking about Nesta and it had been Rhysand who'd told him to call her after ten days. He had simply shaken his head.

He couldn't do that to her. He couldn't drag her back into a relationship where his head wasn't one hundred percent present.

He should have left her long ago, he just didn't have the courage.

He heard Nesta's laughter again and shook his head, now was not the time to think about what had happened in Mor's life. He needed to focus on his own now. He had to at least try.

And if nothing changed, if he couldn't win her back, he owed her an apology, an explanation.

He slipped on the first clean pair of trousers he could find and then, with steps far too fast to seem vague, hurried down the hallway until he found himself standing in front of his brother, his friend and the woman he had been convinced would never leave him.

Her eyes immediately found his and the smile she was wearing instantly dropped when she saw him, but she gave a small nod, "Cass, hi."

He felt something break inside him and his gaze misted over.

Azriel gave a cough then walked towards the door, tying one arm around Mor's and pulling her towards the exit, "We'll leave you two alone, text me later, alright?" he asked, but he didn't wait for an answer and suddenly Cassian and Nesta were alone.

Alone after all that time.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, opening his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Nesta lowered her arms along her sides and smiled weakly, "I think we should talk."

He couldn't get the lump in his throat down, so he just nodded, pointing to the living room.

She looked well.

Not well physically, but she seemed to be more relaxed, more at ease than the other day.

Her cheeks were still hollowed out and the dark circles under her eyes so deep that the temptation to ask her if they could go to bed and sleep, cuddled up like they used to, so they could both finally close their eyes for real without regrets and nightmares pulling them from sleep was so high that he felt something crack in his chest again, for the millionth time.

He only wished he could hold her one last time.

When they were both sitting up, mere inches between them, Nesta inspected him as he had inspected her up to that point and saw the way her throat moved when she swallowed air, probably trying not to burst into tears herself.

They must have looked pitiful.

"How are you?" she managed to say, in a weak voice.

Cassian looked at her face some more, deciding whether to lie or not. He took a deep breath before answering, "I've never been worse in my life."

The muscles in her face twitched as she tried to keep her emotions at bay. She nodded softly, shifting her gaze to the unlit television, "I've seen better days too," she murmured, torturing her fingers, "Even before you came into my life I didn't think I could ever be this bad."

"Nes..."

Her eyes closed tightly. Feeling the emotion attached to that single word, her name whispered with that clear desperation.

She tried to change the subject as quickly as she could, "Mor told me everything. Why you ran away every time like someone was holding a gun to your head," she began, getting straight to the point, not wanting to waste any more time. She couldn't look at him though, despite the fact that there was now nothing but truth between them. "It was because it was admittedly life and death situations."

Cassian took a sharp breath, "I shouldn't have-"

"You shouldn't have, no," she interrupted him. "You shouldn't have, and if we had communicated in any way - if you had even tried to explain to me what the hell was going on, you knew. God, you knew, I wouldn't have blamed Morrigan. That I would have offered her a home if I'd known how serious the matter was."

He felt his stomach clench so tightly he thought he was going to throw up.

"I just want to be able to trust you." she whispered after a few moments of silence.

"You can." he replied immediately, "You can." he repeated, trying to convince her.

Nesta looked up at him. She licked her bottom lip, biting into the skin there a moment later and then shifted her gaze to the floor, "I miss you."

Cassian had to swallow a breath before he could speak, "I miss you too."

She said nothing and he continued.

"I miss you every damn second of the day. And at night, when I can't sleep, thinking about you, I stay awake until I pass out from exhaustion." his voice became rougher as he tried not to think about the day they had met, when he had found her asleep on the floor of that filthy library. "And when sleep doesn't come I regret and blame myself for all the wrongs that have happened."

"Every unspoken thing. Every misstep, every broken promise." said Nesta in a trembling voice. When her eyes fixed on him one more time, he no longer knew how to breathe when she murmured, "Cassian you broke me."

And the single tear that rolled down her cheek broke the last whole part of him.

He couldn't stop the instinct when his hand reached up to her face, the tips of his fingers brushing against her cheek and they both sighed, locking gazes.

And in an instant, the second his palm clung completely to her skin and Nesta closed her eyes, reveling in that touch and thrusting against his hand, Cassian felt every broken piece, every splinter and shard of his soul return to its proper place.

"I'm sorry." he said, extending his other hand to cup her face as well. "I'm sorry, for everything. Please forgive me." I love you, Nesta, please forgive me.

And as if she had heard him, she opened her eyes and nodded slightly before they both let go of a breath of relief that still echoed through the room when she launched herself forward, crashing her mouth against his in a desperate kiss that tasted of salt and love.

five years, three months and two days before

When Cassian had invited her on a date, this was definitely not what she had expected. After all, she doubted it was even remotely close to what Cassian himself had expected.

Their second-first date wasn't supposed to take place in a hospital, yet there they were.

Cassian was lying on the bed when Nesta entered the room. A tight bandage around his head was the only sign of the actual blow he had taken when he had carelessly fallen down the stairs in his haste to leave the house.

As soon as he saw her, his mouth split open in a bright smile, "Love..."

Nesta, who had stopped in the doorway and replied with an equally dazzling smile, felt her heart tighten in her chest at that pet name. The morphine they had given him must have kicked in. She took a hesitant step forward, clasping her hands around her bag, "How are you feeling?"

Cassian chuckled, turning to the nurse who had accompanied Nesta all the way there - Gwyneth, she had read on the label attached to her scrubs - before saying, "She cares how I feel."

The flame-haired girl snorted a laugh, "No shit." she said in a mocking tone, this time turning to Nesta.

She had the decency to blush under the nurse's amused eyes. After all, she had come into the emergency room demanding to know what had happened and where he was at that moment.

Gwyneth had been the one to reach her first and tell her everything she needed to know about the physical state of Cassian, who had apparently lied about Nesta being his wife.

The nurse wasn't stupid, and she'd told her as much when she'd realised that neither of them were wearing wedding rings, but seeing how terrified Nesta had been as soon as she'd set foot in the emergency room, she'd turned a blind eye and assured them that after a quick check to make sure Cassian was okay, she'd give them some time alone.

"She cares how I feel," Cassian murmured again, almost not believing the fact that Nesta was there, for him. Then he turned back to her and opened his mouth wide when he realised what she was wearing. He brought his good hand to his chest, over his heart, and whispered, "You are killing me."

"Try not to die while I'm on duty, please," the nurse muttered, before warning them that everything looked fine and that if he passed out they should call her immediately. She walked past Nesta, brushing her shoulder and winking at her, but she hardly noticed.

She only had eyes for Cassian.

When Mor had called her, telling her there had been a little accident, the world had fallen in on her. She'd kept it together until her new found friend had told her that they'd taken Cassian to the hospital by ambulance after he'd passed out from a very hard blow to the head. She'd been vague about how it had happened, but Nesta suspected that Cassian had already been late and had been running down the stairs when he'd fallen.

She certainly wasn't going to ask him tonight, because her non-boyfriend was out of it and completely high on drugs. And the only thing she cared about at that moment was that constant sound of the machines monitoring his heart, assuring her that he was alive, breathing.

The second the door closed behind her, Nesta moved and it wasn't even five minutes before she found herself lying next to him on the bed, her heels forgotten on the floor as Cassian wrapped his good arm around her and intertwined their fingers.

She rested her head on his chest and felt the way his lungs released a sigh of relief at the contact of their bodies. She could feel the beat of his heart, rapid and steady, alive, beneath her fingers.

They weren't saying anything to each other, and Nesta knew there was no need to.

In the end, it had always been like that between them. Their mere companionship was more than enough.

It wasn't until an hour later, when she began to close her eyes, that Cassian moved his other arm up to touch her shoulder, drawing her attention.

She lifted her head enough to rest her chin on his chest, and when she met Cassian's eyes, she smiled faintly at the expression of pure love and devotion that shone on his face.

She saw the way his Adam's apple moved up and then down as he swallowed and the way his eyelids flickered and he hunched his shoulders, wrapping his arms around her body. Before Cassian could speak, she did, "I love you."

And maybe it was the moment, the emotion that had surely both built up in the weeks leading up to their date that had ended in ruin, the sheer desperation and loneliness they had felt in that long month away from each other, but Cassian closed his eyes, nodding softly, "I love you, Nesta."

She leaned higher, stretching her neck towards him and pressing their bodies together until her mouth brushed against his. The kiss was not hasty, not desperate like the emotions racing through their hearts. It was like a window to the future. Their lips moved slowly in harmony, without worry, without urgency in that infinite kiss.

Because they both knew that there would be no one else for the rest of their days and they had all the time in the world to show each other the strong emotions of life. In that moment, they were each other's calm and strength.

When they broke away, it was only because Gwyneth had brought them food. If cherry jelly could be considered food. Either way, they'd been forced to interrupt their make out session to stock up on some sweet, clear edible stuff, which Nesta had devoured like few things in her life. Cassian had left her half of his portion and then they had snuggled back under the covers, talking about this and that, happy just to be both alive in this cruel world.

four years, six months and twenty-one days earlier

"When did you say they were coming?"

Nesta shifted her gaze to Mor's face, who kept her head resting on her thighs while her very long, very smooth legs remained on display against the wall of their living room. The position couldn't have been the best, especially considering the amount of alcohol her friend had swallowed, but the blonde had promised not to vomit on her so Nesta had no choice but to accept her temporary role as a pillow.

She shrugged, taking a sip from her glass, realising that the wine had finished. "They said they'd be here around ten, so any minute now." Mor nodded absentmindedly, toying with a lock of Nesta's hair.

Someone took the glass from her hand and she lifted her head just in time for her lips to collide with Cassian's, who had intended to kiss her on the forehead. They both smiled into the kiss and when he made to pull away to go and refill her glass, Nesta grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back to her mouth, making him laugh.

A cry of disgust came from down between them, "I preferred you when you weren't together."

Without taking his eyes off of Nesta's, Cassian told her to fuck off, adding shortly after, "Remind me who went to Nes' house to beg her to get back with me."

The blonde mumbled something not too nice and Rhys, who sat next to Azriel on the couch opposite to theirs, was about to retort, when the front door rang once and then twice. Az frowned, eyeing Nesta, "They're impatient."

Nesta shrugged again, a gesture she'd begun to pull too often and which Cassian said stemmed from her spending too much time with Mor.

That was going to be the night her sisters would meet her new group of friends from a few months back and Nesta knew it would go smoothly. Elain would be her usual kind and festive self and Feyre would have everyone in that room wrapped around her fingers in a matter of seconds. She didn't have to worry.

Besides, the only opinion she really cared about was her boyfriend's, and Cassian had had a chance to get to know his sisters well before their breakup.

Rhys had gotten up, staggering just enough to go answer the door, but Cassian had already done the honors, and when the youngest of the brothers looked up at the newcomers, he stumbled over his own steps for a completely different reason than the alcohol in his veins.

Feyre Archeron stood at the entrance to the living room in all her beauty. The tight black dress she had chosen to wear showed off everything the younger of the sisters had to offer and Rhysand looked more than ready to pick up every bit of whatever she threw at him.

Elain walked past her with nonchalance, greeting Cassian with a chaste kiss on the cheek, then introducing herself to Azriel and Mor, who had pulled herself up to hold her in a breathless hug.

Nesta felt Feyre's gaze on her and turned to her, waving whimsically. Feyre chuckled, shaking her head, "How much have you had to drink already?"

Nesta would have replied that she didn't know if Rhysand hadn't lunged forward towards her, risking bumping into Cassian, who was returning from the kitchen with a chalice full of wine for her and her sister.

Her boyfriend's eyes went wide, "What the fuck, Rhys, be careful."

But it was as if no one but Feyre existed for the man anymore.

Feyre stepped back, eyeing Cassian and taking the glass with a simple thank you. Az had approached as well, but as he tried to speak, Rhys interrupted him.

"Hello Feyre darling, I'm Rhysand."

Nesta rolled her eyes, just as Mor did beside her, and Elain chuckled.

Meanwhile, Feyre had never seemed so hesitant in her life. Nesta saw the moment she decided to let go and reached out to shake Rhysand's hand. And then Feyre used the voice that Nesta had only ever heard her use when her sister wanted to get something out of the evening and understood perfectly well how it was going to turn out in a few hours. "Feyre, but I assume you already knew that."

The look Rhys gave her and the nod of assent he did made her think that maybe they wouldn't even wait hours, but mere minutes before leaving the party to go find somewhere more secluded.

When the introductions were over, Cassian took a seat next to her, forcibly pushing Mor away until Nesta was clear of everyone else. Circling her shoulders with one arm and pulling her as close to him as possible, Nesta soon found herself sitting on his lap, sipping wine as one of his hands rested on her thigh, massaging circles with his thumb.

Hours passed between board games and indecent jokes exchanged between the younger in the room and Nesta thought she could never be happier than she was in that moment.

Relaxed as she was, it didn't take Nesta long to let herself go completely and when Elain and Azriel also started talking about their partners respectively, sharing funny stories on how they met, she closed her eyes as well, lulled by Cassian's breath on her face and the fleeting kisses he occasionally left on her cheek.

She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn't find the strength to open hers, and it wasn't until Feyre and Rhys had left and Mor and Azriel had offered Elain a ride that Cassian held her tighter in his arms and carried her to their room, where a bed that had smelled like both of them for two months now remained unmade from that morning's activities.

And though exhaustion was at an all-time high, it wasn't until Cassian lay down behind her, pressing his chest against her back and wrapping himself around her, that sleep finally found them both.

the day

Nesta kept one hand on Cassian's shoulder and the other on his forearm as he rocked her on the dance floor of the venue they had chosen for their wedding.

A few feet away from them, over her husband's shoulder - husband, she was going to have to get used to that title from now on - she could see Elain by the buffet tables laughing carefree as she held onto Lucien, who was laying both hands on her ready-to-burst baby bump, talking to his girls. Nesta smiled as she thought of the countless times she had caught Lucien on his knees entertaining his two unborn twins with conversations about sports.

Moving her gaze to the other side of the runway, she saw Feyre clinging to Rhys, who was surely whispering to her about all the dirty things they could do in the wardrobe of that place judging by her sister's lost and giddy expression.

Trying not to think too much about Feyre in compromising positions, she found Mor and Emerie at the bar, drinking leaning against each other, exchanging jokes that Nesta knew had to do with the outfits of some of their relatives.

A little further on still, Azriel was pirouetting Gwyn so elegantly that she felt a note of jealousy. Az had a faint smile on his lips, but the way his eyes twinkled as he admired her friend's fiery red hair twirling as she spun and spun made her wonder how much longer he was going to wait before he proposed.

She was about to voice her doubts when Cassian's hands lightly squeezed her hips and she shifted her full attention to the man of her life.

Nesta's breath caught for the thousandth time that day when she looked into his eyes.

She raised an eyebrow in question. Cassian smiled, bringing a hand to her face and brushing her cheek, "You look beautiful." he whispered in a hoarse voice.

Her features relaxed and she smiled back, "You're not bad yourself, Mr. Archeron."

Cassian threw his head back, moaning awkwardly and drawing the attention of everyone present. Azriel gave them an amused look and Nesta waved a hand in mid-air, to say it was nothing fancy.

"Mr. Archeron." repeated Cassian, pulling her away from him for a second, as if expecting from that specific dance, only to pull her back against his chest a second later. "If I hear you call me any other name in bed from now on, I might file for divorce."

Nesta chuckled, moving a hand to his chest, "Of course, my love."

His eyes softened even more when they moved back to her face. And Nesta searched his expression for something to tell her that he regretted his decision. That he was lying to her and that in fact the idea of bearing her surname, of being linked to her, repulsed him.

She found nothing that day. Just as she would find nothing in the years to come.

Only adoration and love and respect for the woman she had become thanks to him.

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[regrettablewritings]

Preference: You Move In Together

Characters: Tadashi Hamada, Dewey Finn, Diana Prince, Cassian Andor, Clark Kent

Tadashi Hamada

It started out with a kiss – how did it end up like this?

“This” being you holding a flashlight as high up as your crossed arms would let you as you bemusedly watched your boyfriend fiddle with the generator. Though, you already knew that answer: You two had finally settled down to relax and watch a movie (a little treat for getting through your third day of moving into your new apartment), when a flickering light coming from the kitchen began to distract you from your peripheral. Ever the assure-er, your beloved boyfriend insisted it wasn’t anything serious, that it could easily wait until the morning, and give you a kiss of comfort for good measure. But no: It could not wait until morning. It would not wait until morning.

Instead, whatever was going on waited until the climax of the movie to decide to blow the power out, plunging you both into a well of darkness. You groaned loudly, realizing that this meant the both of you would have to wait until morning to get somebody out here to check it out.

“Why wait?” Tadashi asked. “You have one of SFIT’s finest living with you!”

Surprisingly, robotics and electrical engineering were not quite the same – even one of SFIT’s finest could (and did) find himself struggling to figure out what the problem was.

And for as bemused as you were about the entire situation . . . some part of you couldn’t help but find the tiniest kernels of enjoyment in it. It was that part of you that knew that, a couple years in the future, this would be looked upon as a sweet moment. One of those moments older couples remember when looking back on how far they’d come together.

You two had only been moved in to your apartment for less than a month and already your lives felt so full of potential memories: From Tadashi attempting to make “the first breakfast of the rest of your lives” (and subsequently setting off your kinda crappy fire alarm); to you slipping down the stairs on your butt and thus earning his light taunts as he inspected the damage; to the both of you waking up to find your inflatable mattress had deflated overnight after only two nights of sleeping on it.

Your lives felt so full . . . yet it was clearly only the beginning. And that was certainly something to look forward to. Well, that, and having dependable electricity.

“Okay!” you heard Tadashi exclaim, rising up from his previous position. You didn’t need to direct the flashlight at his face to know that he was sporting that confident smile of his. “This time, I think I’ve got it. ‘And the Lord said --” He positioned his finger on the switch. “ ‘Let there be light!’” And with that, he gave it a victorious flip.

Nothing. Still darkness. The only thing that changed was that the silence was now awkward and well-earned. It was only broken by a single clap of hands.

“. . .  You craving McNuggets? I’m craving McNuggets.”

You blinked. “McNug -- Tadashi, it’s almost midnight.”

“McNuggets, (Y/N)! Let’s go! We can pick up donuts after!” Tadashi insisted, gently pushing you towards the coat closet to retrieve a jacket. In the hustle and bustle, you gave up trying to stay unimpressed about the entire evening: You simply had to let out a laugh.

“Oh, Tadashi,” you sighed as you shook your head slowly, though not completely without adoration.

Yeah, you were both in it for the long run. And if you had known this sort of thing would happen, you still would’ve chosen him to be with. After all, if this kept up, your lives would be truly full before you knew it.

Dewey Finn

Statistically speaking, Staten Island is the cheapest borough to live in. However, New York is still New York. Meaning that you two are the very image that comes to mind when someone thinks about a young couple trying to make it work: The apartment is small; the walls aren’t paper-thin per se, but let’s just say you’d made cardboard club houses from sturdier stock; the quality of certain utilities isn’t exactly stellar, either, given that it was the best the two of you could afford; and you were both in positions that didn’t normally pay especially well in terms of making six figures.

And yet you both were pretty satisfied with the living situation.

Sure, moving your stuff in together was like playing life-size Tetris (with the added “bonus” of having to pick and choose what would be moved into storage and what you’d have to just give away). But after you got into the groove of things, it seemed to pale in comparison to the lives you’d begun to develop as a cohabiting couple.

For one, this was the first time in a long while where Dewey had actually lived in a clean/livable living space. Maybe not pristine, but there had been an established regimen of sorts: Dishes would be cleaned (even if begrudgingly) amongst the two of you; trash was taken out instead of left to grow into a mountain of pizza boxes and soda bottles and whatnot; and for the first time since he’d left his ma’s house, the mattress lay upon an actual box spring rather than a bunch of milk crates filled with records.

Completing the picture of the young struggling pre-famous by way of Dewey becoming a rock god couple was the assortment of Struggle Meals™ that had become a part of your day-to-day lives. Sure, you tried to eat healthy, but let’s be real: Cooking can be such a pain in the ass. It took a while, but you eventually had to agree for the betterment of your budgets to limit eating out to the weekends every other weekend. Until then, weird salads and Chili Mac and crockpots full of “let’s see what happens when we throw all this stuff in because their best by dates are coming and we kinda need to not waste this shit” stew would have to hold you guys over.

And yet, it wasn’t all bad.

There would be nights when Dewey would be on a song-writing kick up until one or chord would stump him, or nights where you’d have to bring paperwork home and you would begin to contemplate the consequences of just flinging it out the window. In moments like those, you were one anothers’ biggest cheerleaders.

You would continue to be one of the only people that could get Dewey to take a break, insisting that maybe going on a walk might help or maybe he can stop for a moment and just join you for a couple rounds of Mario Kart. And he would fix you up your favorite tea or, in turn, insist that you take a break before you slammed your face into the wall. It rarely actually mattered what one did for the other in that specific moment because no matter what it was, it was all the other needed to get over that roadblock.

And then there were those quiet moments . . . Dewey was never a quiet person, never really was into the quiet. But when you two moved in together, he sort of had to learn to respect those for your sake. And even though it was (and still can be) a bit of a struggle . . . you make it so much easier for him. Just by linking your hands together or running your fingers through his hair while you read. Or by rubbing his shoulders while you lounge behind him on the couch while he messes around with a lesson plan . . .

All in all, in some awkward yet beautiful way, you’re making in work. You try to take turns and share responsibilities, you both go and work your butts off to keep the lights on in this World’s Most Expensive Animal Cracker Box you call in apartment. It’s far from easy. But there’s just this massive feeling of satisfaction that hits the both of you when you come home after a long day of work, collapse on the couch, glance at each other with the most exhausted faces and go, “Wow, you look like shit.” Punctuated with a kiss, of course.

(Hey, it’s a Staten Island love story.)

Diana Prince

It all just sort of happened, really. There wasn’t any actual intention of you two living together-- at least, not at first. It had actually just started off with you coming over to Diana’s place just to house-sit whenever she had to go on a mission or even back home (after all, who better to watch her home than her beloved). Of course, this didn’t occur too often at first: She’d mostly retired from the vigilante life by the time you two had established anything. But once Bruce gathered up the Metahumans for a common cause, Diana’s need for you to come by became more frequent. So of course that meant you stayed over more often -- which, of course, meant you would have to make yourself right at home.

When Diana found an article of your clothing mixed in with her own laundry, though, that was when it occurred to her that perhaps it might be more beneficial for you to just stay there. Without the whole going back to your place bit.

You never pushed for it before: After all, for as loving as she was, Diana was still a woman who needed her space, given her history. You felt honored enough that she deemed you worthy of sharing her secret with, you weren’t about to apply more pressure to her by demanding that she let you move in.

Thankfully, no regrets were had.

You felt such childish glee in the moments when you’d wake up and see your gorgeous girlfriend in the kitchen, boiling coffee -- you were actually a little embarrassed at first. But given that Diana was never one to hide her feelings, it didn’t take long for you to realize that she actually felt the exact same: With you around more frequently, the apartment felt far less lonely. Far more warm and welcoming.

It wasn’t just filled with "her" stuff because now it had "your" stuff -- as in things that belonged to the both of you now. And sure, it might've been just little things like desk plants or jello molds or gimmicky little mugs, but it didn't matter to her-- they were yours. Together. Like an actual unit!

There were discussions of comfort zones to avoid as many clashes as possible; you communicated with one another about what idiosyncrasies were and weren’t going to be potential problems and how to possibly combat those.

It wasn’t always perfect, of course, but neither of you would have traded it for anything after you became accustomed to your new living situation.

But the very best moments were when she’d come home after being gone with the League. Tired, sometimes even still in costume, she’d trudge into the apartment, right into the bedroom, before collapsing on the bed next to you. Even if the feeling of your Amazonian girlfriend crashing down didn’t wake you, the exhausted yet relieved sigh she’d release most definitely would. And every time that happened, the first thing you’d feel wouldn’t be irritation at being woken up: It would be excitement.

She’s home! you would cheer on the inside, even if your tired body wouldn’t portray as much excitement as you would try to sit upright to greet her.

“Welcome home,” you smiled every time, voice husky with sleep. And she would smile back. Tired, yes, but always with so much love.

“Hello, beloved,” she would greet. “How was your day?” She would ask this every time. And she would listen, no matter what you responded with.

It was a good life.

Cassian Andor

You fought in a war, you survived a deadly mission that turned the tide for the war, the war ended . . . Now what? You buy a home together.

Oh, if only it were so simple.

Neither you nor Cassian really had much of an idea of where to move to for starters. Sure, you talked a big game about the places you wanted to travel to and see for yourselves, but vacations seemed far more within reach than a milestone like moving in together. At one point, you humored the possibility of just traveling around to those places you’d marked and just settle down in one of them, but they were hardly places you could see yourselves actually living in.

But in the end, you picked Takodana: Lush, green, neutral. Cassian was admittedly hesitant at the idea of settling on neutral territory: To him, that would’ve been just as bad as going somewhere where they didn’t care that a war was happening. But you insisted upon it, voicing how perhaps the influence of a quiet life might rub off on him. Plus, it was hard for him to argue with how calm and quiet it all was. An adjustment from the bustle and yells of a rebel base as he had literally grown used to, but not an entirely unpleasant one.

He never knew that crickets could sound so soothing.

Really, the adjustment of moving in together came from the fact that it wasn’t moving into a small section of living quarters sanctioned by an army: It was an entire home, just for the two of you (and K2), surrounded by forests and near enough to civilization while still being far enough away to assure privacy.

It felt weird to Cassian, who’d spent virtually his entire life living with the opposite: Constantly surrounded by people, constantly surrounded by dust, near enough to others while simultaneously being . . . alone.

Only he wasn’t alone: He was alone with you. And that’s what made all the difference for him. Sure, he wasn’t going to entirely give up his insistence on investing in protective measures. And just because it was your home, didn’t mean you were allowed to slack off on the order of the pantry or how fabrics like towels were folded, as though you were tossing away years of mandated regimen.

But so long as he has you, his link to regaining his sense of self? Who Cassian Jeron Andor is without the war? He’s pretty sure he can make that leap and start his next mission: Starting a family together.

Clark Kent

You two liked to joke that it was done in order to better brave the ridiculous Metropolis housing market. Which wasn’t far from the truth, actually. But the reality clearly had more to do with the fact that moving in together, after being a couple for so long, just felt like the right thing to do. Sure, it wasn’t exactly the most mystical or romantic of reasons, but why complicate things? This was already a relationship composed of the Kryptonian alien who caused a calamity and the woman who helped to try and kill him for it.

The beautiful thing about your new living situation was that it was a unique blend of the mundane and the strange. Unique: You were living with Superman which meant that after a point, it became somewhat necessary for you to know how to clean his suit and cape in the event he couldn’t be home to do it himself. Mundane: Clark liked taking care of you, and that meant sometimes you woke up to breakfast in bed or came home to find that he’d run you a nice, hot bath.

Unique: Dusting and vacuuming high corners and hard-to-reach places was a thing of the past since Clark could easily lift the heaviest of furniture, lift you up himself, or even fly up to perform the task. Mundane: On some evenings, you two could just end the day by relaxing on the couch, you lying on your back as Clark rested his head on your tummy so that you had access to play with his curls. Unique and mundane: You now had the option of completing grocery bag trips in one go. It wasn’t advised due to the whole issue of discretion, but, like, at least the possibility was now there.

Mundanely unique: His fast metabolism meant that your fridge, freezer, and cabinets were stocked to the bring with snacks of all kinds. Uniquely mundane: Clark snored a bit in his sleep and as much as you loved him, no amount of love could make snoring cute.

But compared to everything else, you’d take it in a heartbeat. You never imagined yourself having a life quite like this, to say the least. But now you could never imagine yourself having anything different.

[writtenonreceipts]

Feysand and “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” - “Well, you shouldn’t be saying it then.”

<3

Kinda sappy? Kinda cliche? Kinda...idk.  

Thanks so much for the prompt!

 #

Words, Words, Words

Escape.

Escape.

Escape is all that is pounding through her head.  Just that one word.  One simple action that one would think it would be simple enough to obey.

But Feyre is stumbling as she back peddles and tries to weave through the bar.  Why did it have to be a Friday night?  Why did she have to pick tonight to come out with her friends?

“Feyre,” his voice is almost desperate in the way he calls out.  Desperate and afraid.  And everything she doesn’t need.

She ignores him.  Feyre’s gotten pretty good at it too.  As much as she loves her best-friend, it’s been harder and harder to be around him because that love isn’t what it should be.  That love is a raging fire within her.  That love should not be reciprocated.

“Feyre.” Rhysand manages to grab her hand and swing her around to face him.

In the jostling crowd she is pushed flush against him, the heat of his body flaring around her.  His cologne, a familiar haze to her senses.  By the cauldron she has to get away from him.

“I can’t do this right now, Rhys,” Feyre says.  

Rhys’ violet eyes bare into her, scanning every inch of her face as though he can keep her there himself.  But the longer she stares at him the harder it will be to walk away.

She shakes her head and pulls back, turning to leave the bar. She's not sure why she trusted Mor. Or course the young woman would spend the weekend hanging out with her cousin.  She should have known Mor would want Feyre to talk to Rhys.  It was Feyre's mistake to trust her friend with the sensitive information of being in love with her best friend.

Feyre is outside in the stiff chill of autumn and is desperately looking for a cab. But it isn't the right time of night. The street is just a touch too busy and Feyre is out of luck.

She pushes a hand through her hair and begins walking. A cab will show up eventually, won't it? Besides, it's only a few blocks to her apartment.

"Feyre!" Rhys calls again. She can hear him running to catch her. She doesn't slow down. When he finally does reach her, he makes it a few steps in front of her and stops, forcing her to run into him. 

Feyre snarls, bracing her hands on his far too sculpted biceps. Damn him.

"Rhys," Feyre says when his hands grip her waist. She can feel her heart thundering in her chest. Feel her breath catch in her throat. Feyre refuses to look at him. Even when she can feel his eyes baring down on her.

"Please just let me explain," he says.  The desperation to his voice returns and in the overhead street lamps she can see the tension lines in his face.  This is so different from the calm and collected Rhys that she knows.  So different from his usual confidence.  It almost makes her want to laugh.  To tell him that he’s being over dramatic as always.

“Rhys,” she begins.  He lets her pull away and she wraps her arms around herself, holding her coat closed against the wind. “There’s nothing to explain.  I decided I’m not feeling good and want to go home.”

The lie is blatant and obvious that it causes her to cringe and look away.  A couple walks past, too engrossed in each other to even notice Feyre and Rhys.

“You weren’t supposed to hear what I said,” Rhys explains.  He runs a hand through his hair mussing it up from its usual neat style.  “Cassian and Azriel were being asses and wouldn’t shut up about and I just--”

He’s floundering for words now, his mouth agape and eyes wild.  He doesn’t even know what he’s saying.

Feyre shakes her head and exhales slowly, trying to remain calm. “If I wasn’t supposed to hear it then maybe you shouldn’t have been saying it.  I mean, dammit, Rhys you’re my best friend.  It’s just--I mean.”

Now it’s her turn to struggle for words.  Heat rises on her cheeks and Feyre looks down at her feet.  She’s probably said too much as it is.  But the conversation that she overheard is all she can hear and it’s hard not to say too much.

How can you be in love with me?

The words are on the tip of her tongue.  They could slip so easily from her lips and stain the night with uncertainty.  But she stays silent.  Nothing good has ever come from bar gossip and if she knows Rhys, he’s already got at least three beers in him.  Maybe more.  Definitely on the road to getting tipsy if not drunk.

“Can I just explain?” He steps toward her, slowly, as though she’ll run away if he moves too quick.  And she’s ready to bolt.  Ready to flag down the next car that passes and bum off a ride.

All she feels is mortification.  Why did she have to overhear that conversation?  Overhear Rhys’ exact words.  And then she ran out of there the way she did.

Feyre stuffs her hands into the pockets of her coat.  Her keys dig painfully into her palm, but she welcomes the distraction.

“You know I’m an idiot Feyre,” Rhys says.  He tries to smile, but she doesn’t return the gesture.  

Feyre rolls her eyes and brushes past him, determined to walk home and get away from him.  Because of course tonight she came to realize the extent of her feelings.  Of course tonight she was feeling a bit more willing to act on them.  Of course tonight had to be the night where Rhys went and ruined it all.  He is actually very good at doing that--saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing.  She used to find it endearing, humorous even.

Rhysand is quick to keep pace with her.  His long legs eat up the distance with ease, his jacket flying open around him.

“Feyre.” He’s pleading as they walk.  She knows he’s watching her so Feyre tries to keep her expression blank.  But Rhysand has always been able to get under her skin. 

She stops abruptly causing Rhysand to swing around and almost collide with her.

Standing flush together, Feyre has to tilt her head to avoid squishing her nose against his chest.  Which wouldn’t have been quite a terrible problem if he weren’t wearing that cologne she likes.  Swallowing roughly, Feyre meets his dark gaze.

“If I wasn’t supposed to hear what you said, then we shouldn’t be talking about it,” she says stiffly.  And she really doesn’t want to talk about it.  Because how did you tell your best friend you were in love with him?  It didn’t matter that she’d heard him admit to the same thing just minutes earlier.  He’s already denying what he’d said so why not help him along by keeping her mouth shut?

Rhysand’s hands come up to her forearms, holding her in place.  He leans forward enough that Feyre’s heart skips a beat and she knows they’re in a far too compromising position.  One that would be so easy to sink into and cross all the boundaries of friends.

She steels herself and lifts her gaze.

In the streetlights overhead Rhysands eyes become pools of black.  Deep and endless it is so easy to get lost in them.  There’s a furrow in his brow as though he’s trying to solve some equation or think of a solution to an impossible scenario.

“Feyre.”

He’s always used her name so casually.  Tossing it around as though he’d never tire of it.  Using it almost as a punctuation mark when they’re having the most mundane of conversations.

This time is an exception.  This time her name is a prayer lilting off his lips.  

Slowly he brings a hand up to her cheek.  He brushes his thumb along her jaw and a shiver races over Feyre’s skin.  She can’t help it, can’t control it.  There’s always been something about Rhys that causes her to lose control and slip up just a little.

So now, when she has this little bit of courage, she keeps his steady gaze.

“You said you loved me.”

Somewhere in the din of the bar as she was weaving around patrons, Rhys had been sitting with Cassian and Azriel.  He hadn’t noticed her approach otherwise she was certain the discussion wouldn’t have been anywhere near where it was.  But Cassian and Azriel were pestering Rhysand about something laughing and giving him knowing looks.

And somehow amid the rest of the noise of clinking glasses, conversation, and music she’d heard Rhys’ words clearer than anything else in that bar.

I’m in love with my best friend, what else do you want from me? 

Feyre isn’t interested in the exact nature of the conversation.  The boys have always kept up strange discussions and debates.  She isn’t interested in Cassian and Azriel’s reactions to what happened either.  She's more concerned with the utter panic that consumed her and forced her to run in the opposite direction.

“Yeah,” he replies, “yeah, I did.”

Because, really, how can Rhysand be in love with her?  It’s some sort of sick cosmic joke for this sort of mix-up to happen right when she’s starting to realize her own feelings for him.  And hell, who is she to say that Rhys was even talking about her?  He can have other best friends.  Amren, for instance.  Cresseida.  Vassa.  She’s grasping now, desperate to fil her mind with anything than to respond to Rhys.

Maybe a hole will open up beneath them and swallow her up.

“And I meant it,” Rhys continues.  

“You’re drunk,” Feyre says and rolls her eyes.

He shrugs. “Only a little.  But it doesn’t make what I said any less true.”

Feyre squeezes her eyes shut, unable to tell if he’s being serious or not. “Including the bit about being an idiot?”

She opens her eyes in time to see a smirk flash over his mouth.  His hand brushes softly against her cheek and Feyre knows she could so easily get lost in his touches, so easily get lost in him.  Despite his arrogance and nonchalance of everything--she knows Rhys for who he really is.

“I’ll let you go if you really want, but I just needed you to know, I meant what I said.” He drops his hand to his side, fingers flexing.  

Unconsciously, Feyre tilts forward, missing the contact.  In his eyes she can read every emotion.  Everything on his mind is laid bare for her to see and Feyre knows just how deep his words run.

“Rhys,” Feyre whispers as she snatches a hand out to grasp the front of his jacket before he can pull away. Oh hell, oh hell, she has no idea what she’s doing.  And before she can stop herself or convince herself it’s a terrible idea, Feyre surges up on her toes and kisses him.

Feyre never would have guessed that she would be able to catch Rhys off guard, considering how collected and confident he always appeared to be.  But the second her lips meet his, Feyre knows she’s surprised him.  And that’s fine by her.  She put all her feeling into the kiss, despite leaving it at barely more than a brush.  She still wants to give him the opportunity to pull back and take back what he said.

Rhys however doesn’t have any qualms about being surprised.  When Feyre pulls away, his hands are already at her neck, her waist keeping her close.  His mouth is urgent against hers as though he can’t quite get enough of her.  Feyre gasps, the feeling of his mouth, his hands and the taste of his tongue on hers--everything has her begging to be closer to Rhys.

When they part, foreheads pressed together and hands desperately searching each other’s bodies, Feyre finally catches her breath.  

“You didn’t throw a shoe at me this time,” Rhysand says grinning down at her.

“The night’s still young, we’ll see what happens,” she replies.

Rhys laughs, kissing her again.

#

tags, I think I got the acotar tags right? maybe...and if you didn’t specify which fandom, I put you on my fixed list, please feel free to correct me if you’d just prefer TOG.

tottenhamboys20  @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @bamchickawowow @ladywitchling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @courtofjurdan @sassys-world @sleeping-and-books @superspiritfestival @chieflemming @julemmaes @harrymoncheri @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @my-fan-side @sjmships @emikadreams

[feyredarlinq]

“azriel feels entitled to elain / azriel only wants elain because she’s the third archeron sister” (don’t even get me started on the whole “he only wants her for s3x”, i’ve already discussed it here) as if azriel stared to care for her, understand her, have feelings for her, fall in love with her towards the end of a court of silver flames - because this is when both feysand and nessian are official together, and that makes elain the third/last/spare sister or whatever - but that’s not what happened at all, unless you want to ignore everything that happened before acosf (*coughs* four books* coughs*) i mean, just to make a few examples: 

azriel / elriel in acomaf

a faint smile bloomed upon azriel’s mouth as he noticed elain’s fingers white-knuckled on that fork, but he kept silent (chapter 24)

elain said, “it’s all very disorienting.” “i can imagine,” azriel said. cassian flashed him a glare. but azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. her shoulders loosened a bit. (chapter 24)

rhys chuckled, cassian’s wrath slipping enough that he grinned, and elain, noticing azriel’s ease as proof that things weren’t indeed about to go badly, offered one of her own as well. (chapter 24)

“and i think elain—elain would like it, too. though she’d probably cling to azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” i smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together. if the warrior ever stopped quietly loving mor. (chapter 49)

azriel / elriel in acowar 

azriel smiled faintly. “would you like me to show you the garden?” she seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. the wings peeking over them. but elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. i couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “beautiful.” color bloomed high on azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them. (chapter 24)

“why not make them mates?” i mused. “why lucien?” (chapter 24)

“what if”—i jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden— “that is what she needs? is there no free will? what if lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?” (chapter 24)

the two illyrians paused their inspection of me long enough to note my sisters finishing up breakfast, nesta in a pale gray gown that brought out the steel in her eyes, elain in dusty pink. both males went a bit still. (chapter 30)

i dragged a hand over my face before going to elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “can i set you up in the garden? the herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” “i can help her,” said azriel, stepping to the table as elain silently rose. no shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as elain took his hand, and out they went. (chapter 30)

lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on elain, “should we—does she need …?” “she doesn’t need anything,” azriel answered without so much as looking at lucien. elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “we’re the ones who need …” azriel trailed off. “a seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “the cauldron made you a seer.” (chapter 32)

it made sense, i supposed, that azriel alone had listened to her. the male who heard things others could not … perhaps he, too, had suffered as elain had before he understood what gift he possessed. (chapter 33)

from the shadows near the entrance to the tent, azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “i’m getting her back.” nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. nesta said, “then you will die.” azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “i’m getting her back.” (chapter 64)

azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. “are you hurt?” she shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “you came for me.” (chapter 65)

azriel still cradling elain to his chest. he dripped blood behind him the entire time—a trickle compared to the torrent that should be leaking out.” (...) rhys lunged for azriel, taking elain from him and gently setting my sister down. azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, “we need helion to get these chains off her.” (...) yet elain didn’t seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger’s cheek. (chapter 65)

elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in azriel’s scarred hand. the runes on the dark scabbard. “it has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” he gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “it will serve you well.” (...) “never,” rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. “i have never once seen azriel let another person touch that knife.” (chapter 69)

azriel / elriel in acofas

i don’t make a point of looking after his movements. “why?” not a flicker of emotion. “he is elain’s mate.” i waited. “it would be an invasion of her privacy to track him. to know when and if lucien sought her out. what they did together. “you sure about that?” i asked quietly. azriel’s siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea. (chapter 7)

“do you think he can handle being around graysen?” az’s expressionless face was precisely the reason he’d never lost to us at cards. “why should I be the judge of that?” “you mean to tell me that you weren’t bluffing when you said you didn’t track lucien’s every movement?” nothing. absolutely nothing on that face, on his scent. the shadows, whatever the hell they were, hid too well. too much. (...) azriel only said coldly, “if lucien kills graysen, then good riddance.” (chapter 7)

azriel an a hand through his dark hair. “are we …” unusual for him to stumble with words. “are we supposed to get the sisters presents?” “no,” I said, and meant it. azriel eemed to loose a sigh of relief. seemed to, since all but a breath of air passed from his lips.” (chapter 7)

azriel emerged from the sitting room, a glass of wine in hand and wings tucked back to reveal his fine, yet simple black jacket and pants. i felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. her throat bobbed. (chapter 12)

“pick on someone your own size,” cassian said to amren, shoveling roast chicken into his mouth. “i’d feel bad for the mice,” azriel muttered. mor and cassian howled, earning a blush from azriel and a grateful smile from elain—and no shortage of scowling from amren. but something in me eased at that laughter, at the light that returned to elain’s eyes. (chapter 12)

azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered into the garden below. “i’ve never stayed in this room.” his midnight voice filled the space (chapter 16)

“i had madja make it for me,” (...) elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “it’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. since you rub your temples so often.” silence again. then azriel tipped his head back and laughed. i’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. (chapter 20)

elain smiled again, ducking her head. azriel mastered himself enough to say, “thank you.” i’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “this will be invaluable.” (chapter 20)

azriel and elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. whether he cared about such things, i had no idea, but i sent him a silent prayer of thanks for his kindness before rhys and i slipped upstairs. (chapter 22)

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Speak your Heart | Cassian Andor x Reader (Oneshot)

Words: 2395

A/N: Hey, look, it's another "not exactly unrequited love, they're just idiots" fic starring our favorite grumpy captain.

May the fourth be with you!

Summary: You may or may not have a crush on your longtime friend, Cassian, but he thinks that you may or may not have a crush on his friend Bodhi. It's up to your friends to quickly fix that.

-

When you laugh so hard, you would laugh with your whole body, clutching at your stomach or rubbing your cheeks when they grew sore. Your laugh was the most amazing sound Cassian had ever heard. It wasn’t a soft melodious sound, but it was a genuine, wholehearted laugh that would make anyone smile and join in. But, right now, he hated it. If it was caused by Jyn, he would have been fine. He knew you enjoyed her sarcastic humor and banter. No, it was caused by his other best friend. The quiet pilot that was always full of surprises.

You finally regained your breath and slapped the pilot’s shoulder. “Bodhi, Bodhi, tell them about the time you had to lead a small team of new recruits,” you said.

Bodhi rolled his eyes. “Oh, that one. So, there was this new guy who was acting all big, bragging about his knowledge of ships and how he fought numerous stormtroopers on his own. Long story short, he almost caught one of the Skippers on fire from his failed attempt of hot-hiring it and when the troopers came, he screamed and flung his blaster across the docks.”

“We had to go and save him,” you added. “Bodhi made it so we were able to get the cargo and save the guy all in one piece. He can think of plans so quickly under pressure. I don’t know how he does it.”

Bodhi ducked his head and laughed. “Well, I had an idea of how stormtroopers think. It wasn’t too difficult. The way they acted, it seemed like they were also new recruits, so it wasn’t too hard to take care of them.”

“Better watch out, (Y/n). If Bodhi ends up being full himself with all those compliments you’re stuffing him, then Cassian will have another handful to deal with,” Jyn said.

“Yeah, the other being you, of course,” Bodhi shot back. “I don’t think I’ll ever be like that, though.”

Jyn smirked. “But, can you even imagine the two of us ganging up on Cassian like that?”

He nodded with a wide smile. “He’d go insane. Probably abandon us on the nearest moon.”

“Guys,” you said, shaking your head, “that would mean I’d never hear the end of it about you two.”

Jyn wrapped her arm around your shoulder. “That’s right. Cassian tells you everything, doesn’t he?” She exchanged a knowing look with Bodhi.

“Not everything,” you muttered, crossing your arms as you thought about the numerous times where Cassian would avoid you for no reason when he had been telling you almost everything about the missions he had in the past and the ones he had recently come back from. You weren’t sure when your friendship with him had reached the point where the two of you would exchange stories late at night before finally attempting sleep, but it felt effortless.

You sighed, leaning your back against Bodhi as he carried off his conversation with Jyn and the others. There were times where you’d slip deep in thought and it occurred often enough that your friends learned to let you be unless they knew you were in a bad mood prior to it. Your eyes drifted away from the group, looking around the canteen nonchalantly.

All those faces, new and seasoned. The war never cared which ones they were, it just takes. Many would have sworn off on sentimental attachments and at one point, you did, too. That is, until you met Cassian and Kaytwo. You rarely saw them apart and it wasn’t until you were assigned to assist them as their technician did you have any close contact with either of them. Many spoke about the stoic spy who always got the job done, no matter the cost.

Cassian Andor. A man who had been in the fight since he was a child. You thought that a man like him wouldn’t want to get close to anyone unless they were solely a means to an end. So, when you saw Cassian panic after K-2SO got shot and damaged his arm and wiring, you were shocked to say the least. You had to help him drag the droid back to the U-Wing and try to stabilize him with the resources you had on hand while Cassian powered up the ship and flew away from danger. He had let out a sigh of relief when you told him that Kaytwo would be fine and repairable once the three of you reach base. Since then, you realized that living beings always end up getting attached to something or someone no matter how hard they tried.

Your eyes ended up landing on the very captain that occupied your thoughts more than half the time. Without realizing it, a smile slowly spread across your face. You were definitely attached to someone, alright.

Bodhi nudged your back and smiled. “Go talk to him.”

You turned your head to Bodhi and shook it. “I don’t know. Last time I did, he stormed off. I don’t know why, though. Maybe it was something I said, but I’m not sure what would have caused him to do that.”

Cassian froze as you looked at him with a smile. His heart began to beat fast as he thought of how to respond. But when he decided to settle for a smile, you turned your head away and towards Bodhi whose face was inches from yours.

“You should go talk to them, you know,” Kaytwo said. “There’s a ninety-five percent chance that you are misinterpreting (Y/n)’s and Bodhi’s relationship.”

“And what is that five percent?”

“That misinterpretation percentage used to be much higher, but given how long you want to prolong your lovesick yearning, that percentage would only decrease with time.”

Cassian grunted at this, walking away from the droid and out of the canteen. “And what are the odds of this biting us in the ass in the future?”

“Depending on what you choose.”

“I don’t have time for this. There’s a meeting in half an hour. Are you going or not?”

“Of course I am, Cassian. Your mind will be too preoccupied to pay any attention. But, remember what I said-”

“Let's start going.”

You stood up just as Cassian and Kaytwo began to walk out of the canteen. There was a sour expression on Cassian’s face as he spoke to Kaytwo, making you sink back down in your seat. “He’s busy,” you muttered.

Bodhi glanced over his shoulder then shook his head. “But that’s just how Cassian looks most of the time.”

“I don’t want to bother him.” You swung your legs around so you were facing everyone again.

“I don’t think he’d ever mind if it was you.”

“Bodhi’s right, (Y/n). Maybe you can try when his meeting’s done,” Jyn said.

You sighed. “Alright.”

-

The Rogue One crew was being sent off to another mission off planet for who knows how long. It was risky as it was within enemy lines near a major Imperial facility. You knew that they were fully capable individuals and together they were unstoppable, but you couldn’t help but worry whenever your friends left the tarmac of the base.

Maybe you should tell him before he leaves. Everyone’s been telling you to make the first move, since Cassian wasn’t budging any time soon. You were scared of the rejection, of him putting up and fortifying the walls around himself, and you would be losing a really good friend.

You had waited for Cassian outside of the meeting room. It took longer than you expected, but as soon as it ended, you jumped up from the crates and rushed over. Cassian halted as soon as he saw you. As you stepped towards him, he looked up at Kaytwo, then brushed past you. Your eyes widened as you watched him leave.

“I would tell you what was wrong, but Cassian told me not to,” Kaytwo said, awkwardly patting your head before strolling over to where Cassian had gone.

You collapsed on Jyn’s cot as soon as you entered her quarters, wondering why he was suddenly acting this way towards you. Jyn continued to talk about the time she was able to meet Princess Leia and how they had to rescue themselves when they were separated by the crew. You hummed along to show that you were listening, absentmindedly helping her pack as she threw clothes and gear onto the cot.

A heavy piece of cloth was thrown at your face, your surroundings falling into darkness. You pulled the jacket off and saw Jyn standing in front of you with hands on her hips. She raised an eyebrow, snatching the jacket from you and shoving it into her pack.

“We’re leaving tonight, but Cassian typically gets to the U-Wing an hour before us,” Jyn hinted.

“So… should I go now or…”

She sighed in frustration. “Run!”

“Okay, okay!” you shouted as she chased you out of her quarters with a blaster.

You weaved past tired pilots and mechanics as they retired for the night, only a few bothered to spare you a glance before yawning and continuing on to their respective quarters. There was a lamp shining next to the U-Wing where Cassian was loading the ship and checking to see if he had everything for the mission. Kaytwo took care of the heavy load and went to check on the ship’s condition.

“Cassian!” you called out.

His head shot up, a series of emotions flashing across his face when he realized that it was you. He was always happy to see you, but he wasn’t sure that you’d be friendly with him still after he had been giving you the cold shoulder lately. He set down his datapad and crossed his arms as you skidded to a stop right in front of him.

“You should be asleep. I heard that they had given you a pile of projects to work on this week,” he said.

His eyes widened as you gripped his shoulders and pulled him away from the U-Wing. Kaytwo popped his head out of the ship and shook it before going back to his tasks. You found an area behind stacks of crates where the two of you could be alone. You took a moment to catch your breath before opening your mouth for the rushed speech you had made in your head on your way to reach him.

“I’ll look after Bodhi if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said.

“What? No! I’m not worried about him. Well, I am. I’m always worried about you guys. Why would you say that all of a sudden?”

His eyes looked everywhere but you, your hands slipping from his shoulders as he stepped back. “If that’s not what you ran here for, then hurry it up. We’ve got a mission to go to soon.”

So all that gossiping that Chirrut and Baze had been doing with the others were true. Cassian was jealous. Apparently, he thought that you had feelings for Bodhi instead. “You know, I always thought that you were one of the smartest people I know. I guess I was wrong.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What-”

“Captain Cassian Andor, the leader of Rogue One, the very team that helped steal the Death Star blueprints, the spy who could get intel out of anyone, yet he can’t tell whether his friend is entirely in love with him.”

It took an extremely long and grueling long minute for that information to process, but he wasn’t sure if he was processing it correctly. He frowned as he looked at you. “Do you mean…”

You sighed, placing your hands on his shoulders again. “I. Am. In. Love. With. You. You. Idiot,” you said slowly, shaking him with each word. “Just thought I should let you know before you leave. You don’t have to respond, but I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to tell you.”

“(Y/n), I…”

“Just kiss them, Cassian!” Kaytwo shouted.

Cassian turned to scowl at his droid, but you pulled him towards you and smashed your lips on his. He stumbled back in shock, his back hitting the crates. You pulled away in concern, checking to see if he was alright. He glanced at the screen of his datapad, then turned back to you.

“We have half an hour left,” he said before pulling you in for another kiss.

The second kiss took your breath away as he pressed himself against you. His heart pounded in his chest, a giddy feeling spreading throughout his body as you eagerly returned the kiss. He wasn’t sure when he fell, but it was gradual and natural and it had caused a conflict in him when he thought that you were in love with Bodhi instead. Bodhi was his friend as well, and if the two of you made each other happy, there wasn’t much he could do but let it happen. Yet, here you were in his arms, reciprocating his feelings.

The two of you finally pulled away for air. Cassian rested his forehead against yours and sighed in content. “I love you, too.”

“Finally!” you heard Jyn’s voice shout.

You and Cassian walked away from your secluded crate corner and saw that the crew had already gathered. They all grinned widely before loading their things onto the ship.

“I… I need to go,” Cassian said softly.

You nodded. “I know. Better come back to me in one piece, captain.”

“Of course I will. Wait for me?”

“Of course.”

He was glad that you had made the first move. If not, then he would have ran off from one mission to another without telling you how he felt. Then, who knows where the two of you would be. He would have probably lost you.

As he entered the U-Wing, all of his friends turned to him with a smile. Bodhi stepped forward and patted his shoulder. “It was about time,” he said.

“Yeah, we were going to lock the two of you in a dark room together for two hours if you guys didn’t make a move,” Jyn said.

Baze snorted. “I think sending them out on a mission together would have worked as well.”

“The Force would have found a way,” Chirrut piped up.

He was definitely glad that you made the first move.

[ncssian]

Boughs of Holly

Nessian Oneshot

bye this was supposed to be posted hours ago 😭. anyway this is for @sayosdreams and @sayosdreams only. if you're not sayo close ur eyes ✋

this uses some ideas i’ve had bookmarked for later chapters of a favor so if you see some of this being reused in the future mind your business.

tw: friendliness with the ic

***

“They're not even trying to hide it anymore,” Mor muttered from the window. “They’re just rubbing it in our faces at this point.”

This Solstice Eve had forgone snow in favor of rain and sleet, but despite the terrible weather, Cassian and Nesta were taking their damn time making their way up to the riverside manor.

From the living room window, Feyre, Elain, and Mor could see how the couple's pace had considerably slowed as they walked up the sidewalk, chatting as they went. There was only one umbrella, held up by Cassian so that it covered Nesta more than himself. His own shoulder was getting drenched by rain, but he didn't even seem to notice as he listened to Nesta talk like she was delivering some holy gospel. One dark wing was stretched out to shield her back from the weather.

“I just don't get it,” Feyre said, her fingers pressed up against the glass. “If they're together, why haven't they said anything about it yet?” Feyre was trying to be less intruding in her sisters’ lives, but doing so meant that she couldn't go up to Nesta straight and ask about her and Cassian.

The relationship between Nesta and the war general upon their return from the Illyrian mountains had seemed normal enough at first— friendly, even generic. But the few times the Inner Circle found themselves in the same room as Nesta and Cassian, their interactions became more and more suspect. Little touches here and there, unprecedented amounts of laughter, and the worst of it: when Cassian had batted Azriel’s hand away from a platter of steak at their last family dinner, only to pick at each cut of meat and place the best ones on Nesta’s plate. Whenever anyone tried to bring up this behavior, however, they would only receive blank stares in return.

At this point, the Inner Circle was too intimidated to say anything. The only one who might have had the guts was Amren, but she only cackled every time Nesta and Cassian did something that thoroughly shocked their friend group.

“I think it's sweet,” Elain spoke up. “Even if they are playing mind games with us.”

“Will you come away from the window?” Rhysand clicked his tongue from near the fireplace. “You all look mad.”

A few moments later, a knock sounded from the front hall and Feyre jumped. “They’re here.”

She went to answer the door while Mor rushed to the couch, sitting casually in an attempt to act normal. Elain went over to a gift bag and started digging through it, while everyone heard the door opening and the sound of greetings.

“You’re dressed— casually,” Nesta's voice rang from the front hall.

The three of them appeared at the doorway of the living room, Nesta in a slim-fitting blue gown and Feyre in flannel pajamas. Cassian raised his brows at the sight of everybody.

Elain hurried over in her long nightgown and shoved something pink and silky into Nesta's arms. “The dress code is sleepwear!” she said. “Go get changed.”

While Nesta was ushered off to the bathroom, Cassian released a breath and shed his fancy jacket like it was on fire. “Glad we’re not doing that this year then.”

“Oh, we have something for you, too,” Azriel spoke up from the corner of the room.

Five minutes later, Cassian was in the ugliest knit sweater he’d ever seen in his life. In comparison, Nesta returned to the living room looking like a cherub in baby pink silk pajamas.

Nobody missed the way Cassian's eyes lit up as they spotted her in her new outfit, but she only took a seat on the couch next to him without a word.

Nesta's presence at Inner Circle functions was still awkward, like a puzzle piece that belonged to a different image, but it was also nothing like it had been just a year or two ago. She was so much more… comfortable with herself now, like she didn't mind playing along with Feyre’s family games every now and then, as long as she got to return home at the end of the night. And she did have a home now, though no one knew where it was.

“I just don't want any visitors for now,” she’d told Feyre when asked about her new place of residence. “You understand, right?”

And thanks to Feyre’s promise to be more understanding of Nesta, she’d had to drop the subject.

Solstice Eve went fairly well, with both Elain and Feyre overjoyed at their sister's participation. Nesta even went so far as to interact with Mor and Azriel without rolling her eyes, though Rhysand was politely ignored for the rest of the night. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that if they didn't talk to each other, Nesta couldn't be given an excuse to punch him in the face (as she could be prone to doing). Occasionally, Cassian would lean over and whisper something so lowly to Nesta it was barely a movement of the lips, inaudible to the others even with their fae hearing. Whatever he said would bring reactions anywhere from a serious nod to a light chuckle, and the room got a little still every time it happened.

Long after the night was over, Elain blinked out a drunken half-sleep to find that she was dreadfully thirsty. Crawling slowly enough out of bed that Azriel wouldn't wake, she padded blearily for the kitchen. She was halfway down the stairs when she heard the murmur of soft voices coming from the living room.

That woke her up fully. Eyeing the grandfather clock, she saw that it was four-thirty in the morning. The whole house should have been asleep by now.

Turning toward the living room, Elain paused just beyond the archway. The only light came from the dying glow of the fireplace, and in the armchair before it—

Nesta sat on Cassian’s lap, wrapped up in his arms with a small pile of gifts between them. They were engrossed in some low conversation about their plans for Solstice, but the way they were looking at each other…

Bile got caught with a gasp in Elain’s throat as Nesta leaned in to kiss Cassian. That was her big sister who Cassian had his hands all over, one of them squeezing her thigh and creeping dangerously higher.

When their kiss became deeper, with clear and present threat of tongue, Elain couldn't hold back her squeal.

Nesta jumped in Cassian’s lap. “Shit!”

Cassian brought a hand to his mouth, where Nesta had accidentally bitten down on his lip in surprise. They both whirled to face Elain in the doorway.

“You are together!” Elain accused, pointing. The idea of it was not as sweet as it had been a few hours ago, before Elain had caught her closest and coldest sister in such a vulnerable position with the Illyrian commander.

Cassian stared at her, then laughed deeply.

Nesta’s face was red under the firelight, out of anger or embarrassment, Elain didn't know. “No shit, we're together,” she said harshly. “What are you doing at this hour, Elain?”

“What do you mean, ‘no shit’?” Elain demanded. “You didn't tell anybody! You didn't even let us ask!”

Nesta looked at Elain like she was stupid, while Cassian wisely kept his mouth shut. “Why would we have to announce our relationship? Don’t you have eyes?”

Elain shut her mouth at that. “Well, we all thought…” she trailed off.

Cassian poked Nesta's side. “See what happens if you don't tell your family everything? They become clueless.”

She looked at Cassian. “It was fun to make them squirm, though, wasn't it?”

“So it was mind games,” Elain said.

“It wasn't anything except us keeping to our own business,” Nesta said. “We even share a home together and none of you noticed. That is not our problem.” She didn't sound irritated like she once might have been, but rather that the antics of the Inner Circle endlessly amused her. Nesta's friend group had certainly given her an odd sense of humor.

Elain blinked. “Oh— well… where do we go from here?”

Cassian played with the ends of Nesta’s ponytail. “You leave us alone and we get back to foreplay?” he suggested.

Nesta looked inclined to agree, but she elbowed Cassian in the ribs in defense of her sister anyway.

Elain shut her eyes, her pounding headache suddenly inescapable. “That might be a good idea.” She covered her face and turned for the kitchen. “I’m glad we could clear this up.”

She was not actually glad, but rather she was not sober enough yet to comprehend how Nesta and Cassian functioned as a couple. It wasn't even until she was back upstairs with her glass of water that Nesta’s words finally processed—

“They share a what together?”

***

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool

[emilia3546]

Shadowsinger Part 9 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

*****

Gwyn was grinning at him as she swung the door open, and crossed to the piano. She perched on the edge of the seat, letting Azriel sit more in front of the piano itself. Still, she was right next to him, and he almost leapt out of his skin when she covered his hands with her own, guiding him towards the keys as she explained the basics. She laughed at his surprise and he relaxed immediately, a shadow flitting out unbidden to explore the piano itself, before settling on Gwyn's shoulder. She grinned,

"You're the bravest one, aren't you?" Azriel could have sworn that the shadow puffed up at her words, and the others shot out to join it. "Do they really understand me?"

"Yes, and they listen to you, I've never seen them do that before, usually they're really shy, it took years for them to talk to me."

"They don't talk to me, or at least I don't understand them if they do."

"You would understand, it's like someone whispering in your ear, but its not a different language, the difficulty isn't learning to speak, but to listen." She nodded, and giggled when a shadow twirled down her arm, and skittered across the piano,

"Shoo, you're gonna get in the way," it made its back to her, hovering around her wrist as she demonstrated a simple series of notes for Azriel to copy. Even here, even dressed comfortably as she was she was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen, her hair glimmered in the candlelight, and her eyes gleamed with joy at each note, especially when Azriel got it right. She was a better teacher than he was, easily, and he must have said as much because she snorted,

"I'm not sure piano lessons and self-defense are really comparable, Az. Besides, you taught us to fight," well, he'd helped Cassian teach them to fight, "And the silent stuff with me, piano's a way different skill, you teach it differently." True, and she had picked up everything he'd taught her remarkably quickly, although that was more a reflection on her than him, "Here, Az," she moved his hand slightly, "What are you thinking about?" You. He couldn't say that,

"Sorry, just," a shadow danced around, "Got distracted." Gwyn laughed,

Ask her to dinner

What? No.

Now.

Azriel sighed, and started at the sight of the clock, cauldron it was late,

"Have you seen the time? We should get to bed."

Dinner. Now.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes, and almost fidgeted,

"Can I take you to dinner tomorrow? As a thank you. I know a lovely little restaurant on the Sidra, it's usually nice and quiet in the evenings." He was expecting her to say no, that she wasn't comfortable around people that much yet, but she nodded,

"Yeah, that's be lovely,"

"Six sound alright?" Gwyn nodded and grinned, she was still grinning when he left. The shadows leapt and spun around him, not calming down even when he tried to go to bed,

Does she think it's a date?

I don't know. Does it matter?

Yes. We like her. You should kiss her.

I'm not kissing her. She doesn't need another male like that. Not until she wants it.

She does want it.

Then let her make that step. I will not push her.

It's not pushing her if she wants you.

Stop it. If she makes that step then great, if not, I will not make it for her.

Azriel rolled over, and the shadows swirled slower,

Sorry. We know.

I know, you're just overexcited, we'll just wait and see how tomorrow night goes.

*****

Gwyn almost squealed when she closed the door, she could never sleep now, Azriel was taking her to dinner. She did a little circle on the spot and busied herself tidying the room until she fell exhausted into bed.

The next morning both Azriel and Cassian had been called to the River House, Nesta of course went with them, leaving Gwyn with the whole day to kill. She hadn't returned to the library in so long, just about managing to do the work Merrill sent up for her. But it was about time for her to return, at least for a bit. She carefully armed herself underneath her robe, and made her way back to the library, grinning at Clotho as she entered, who smiled back, but let her pass without stopping her.

Time wore on far too slowly for Gwyn's liking and she finished her work barely at lunchtime, making her way back up to the House without incident, and ended up exploring the rest of the House before deciding to practice her archery on her own. She kept at it for an hour, it was four o'clock, if she took a long bath she could go and start getting ready.

It didn't take two hours. She was out of the bath and dressed in one, and it took only twenty minutes to arrange her hair, half braided around her head, half falling down her back. She didn't bother with any cosmetics, she rarely did, only for formal evenings, this didn't count. The dress was loose, emerald-green, much shorter than the one she had worn to dinner before, but it matched the earrings Azriel had bought her. She'd never been one to go for daring necklines, but the back, well, there wasn't much to it, it dipped off her shoulders and plunged downwards, leaving the unbound portion of her hair to tumble down her back, swaying with each step she took. She stepped into a pair of white heels, and distracted herself by playing the piano until the knock on the door sounded.

Azriel had always been beautiful, but now, he was the most beautiful male she'd ever seen, High Lords includeddf. He wore a fairly simple, but elegant shirt, a black jacket over the top, with matching pants. He'd combed his hair, and his eyes were sparkling as he offered her a hand. He stilled when she opened the door, and Gwyn wasn't entirely sure he was breathing until she took his hand and led him to the nearest balcony,

"You look beautiful," he whispered right before scooping her up and diving into the night sky. Gwyn held back her squeal of delight at the sensation of falling, but it didn't stop,

"Az," she muttered, "Az, what are you doing?" She buried her face in his neck, squeezing him tighter as they fell, "Azriel!" She screamed, moments before his wings shot out, leaving them gliding effortlessly through the empty streets. Gwyn forced herself to lean back, and look him in the eyes, "You shit!" But she couldn't stop the grin from spreading across her face, and Azriel chuckled at her false indignation,

"Oh, c'mon, I think you like a bit of adrenaline."

"Yeah, a bit. Not fear that I'm about to die because some idiot forgot how to fly." Azriel laughed at that, really laughed, and Gwyn smiled at the sound echoing around her, at the sight of his head tipped back, the wind now ruffling his hair, undoing all his work to tame it.

The restaurant was beautiful, and quiet as he'd promised, and he left her waiting just inside, shadows shielding her from view as he talked quietly to one of the waiters,

"Come on," he took her hand, leading her through to a garden at the back, right on the Sidra, the stars glittered above her head, and right in front of her, on the glassy surface of the river. The garden was all but empty, only one other table was occupied, all the way on the other side. "This okay?" Azriel muttered,

"Okay? Az, this is beautiful." She grinned, and turned back to him, her smile softening, "Thank you." No-one had ever done something like this for her before, she'd been nervous before coming out tonight, really nervous, but the moment she sat down, the moment everything else vanished, she calmed. In that moment nothing else mattered, just him.

*****

Gwyn was practically glowing in the moonlight, and Azriel hadn't missed the earrings, Neve was right, emeralds really suited her. She relaxed quickly once they sat down, smiling and laughing with every word they exchanged. His shadows refused to settle down, swirling around his feet and occasionally adding unhelpful comments. Gwyn mentioned how she loved the stars, how seeing them in the river was a new delight,

Tell her that her eyes shine like stars.

Tell her that she outshines them all.

Tell her that your love burns brighter than them all.

Azriel actually blinked at the last one,

Okay, whoa, stop now, that escalated way too quickly,

He just nodded, quickly pointing out his favorite constellations to Gwyn, and showed her a few she didn't know.

Shut up.

He hissed to the shadows, ignoring their offended comments, focusing instead on the way Gwyn's face lit up when she found a new constellation herself,

"Wait, where is it?" Azriel gently guided her chin up slightly,

"See it? Just there, the wing, and-"

"It's a pegasus!" She yelped, quickly covering her mouth as the other couple glanced over at them,

"Do you ever plan on telling me the deal with you three and pegasi?"

"That's between us and the House, Az."

"You know what, I don't think I want to know." Gwyn laughed and gazed back up at the pegasus, the stars shining in her eyes.

Gwyn was still smiling when he landed back on the balcony,

"Thank you, Az, tonight was wonderful, I'd hardly dared to think I could go outside, let alone eat at a restaurant a few months ago." He dipped his head, but smiled,

"A wonder what punching Cassian can do." Gwyn snorted,

"Satisfying as that is, it's not him that's helped me with that. Thank you." She fell silent for a moment, almost slipping away, but stepped back towards him and raised herself onto her tiptoes. Azriel held his breath as she brushed her lips against his and smiled softly at him before finally slipping away.

Every breath was a battle, every step was a battle, a battle not to follow her, not to show her exactly what a proper kiss was like. His heart was still pounding as he reached his bedroom, but he couldn't sleep, even the shadows seemed stunned into silence.

He got changed for bed. Gwyn. He washed his face. Gwyn's smile. He washed his face with cold water. Gwyn's laugh. He fluffed all the pillows. Gwyn's eyes. He sharpened the dagger under his pillow. Gwyn handing Cassian's ass to him a few days ago. He chuckled at the memory, at Cassian's shock as she tripped him, hungover and tired as he was. How Nesta had roared with laughter and congratulated her friend, leaving her mate on his ass to celebrate. How Gwyn had stared in shock as she realized she'd won. She was so beautiful.

He shook his head. Gwyn, Gwyn, Gwyn. Gods, he'd never get any sleep at this rate. Cassian's socks. Gwyn. Cassian's smelly socks. Gwyn's perfume. Illyria, camp lords. Gwyn at the top of Ramiel. He groaned and rolled sideways, burying his face in his pillow. He was absolutely fucked. This female would be the death of him. He was in such deep shit.

*****

Azriel didn't come to breakfast, she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him last night after she'd kissed him either. Maybe he was avoiding her. She shouldn't have kissed him, maybe he hadn't meant to ask her to dinner as a date, oh shit. Not even Nesta and Cassian were here, true, they could be otherwise engaged, but not likely, training was soon, they wouldn't miss it. She finished eating, and thanked the House before heading up to find someone, perhaps they had simply overslept. She reached Nesta and Cassian's room first, and her breath was sucked out of her lungs at the sight before her. There was blood everywhere. The bed was half-collapsed, as if something, no, someone had been thrown into it, the window was broken, and, her heart almost stopped. There was a note nailed to the bedposts,

You took it too far, High Lord. You have seven days to restore our freedoms, or we kill them all.

There was no signature, and Gwyn almost dropped the note out of sheer terror, someone had been here, in the House, and had taken Nesta and Cassian, and was going to kill them all. All. Azriel. She sprinted for his room, holding back a sob at the clear signs of a fight, the shattered furniture, the blood spraying across the floor. They had come right next to her room, how had she not heard anything? She could have done something. This was all her fault. She couldn't hold back the tears as she stared aimlessly into Azriel's room, always so meticulously clean, ordered, now in complete disarray. Slowly her fear and sadness hardened, solidifying into a burning rage. She was getting him back, getting them all back. But she had no idea how would have sent the note, it was daytime, to get to the River House, to show the note to Rhysand, she would have to go through crowded streets, alone.

Gwyn took a deep breath at the top of the stairs, and started down, by the time she reached the bottom she was practically flying across the ground, and she hurtled out of the door, ignoring startled looks from everyone she passed. She ran and ran, faster than she ever had before, and by the time she reached the River House her muscles were burning, screaming at her to stop, but she couldn't, something inside her forced her to keep moving. She would do anything to save them, to save Azriel.

When she burst through the doors to the River House, a servant practically leapt out of her skin,

"Where is Rhysand?" She demanded, forgetting any politeness, and followed the servant's shaking finger pointing towards what looked to be a living room. When she shoved the door open, she was faced with not just Rhysand, but Feyre as well, and Mor. She held out the note, not caring that all three of them had frozen the moment she had entered the room,

"What are you doing here, Gwyn?" Mor asked her quietly, and she just forced the note into Rhysand's hand,

"They - Azriel - Cass - Nesta," she panted for breath, unable to form words, but from the horror etched across his face, Rhysand had figured it out. Gwyn sank onto a chair opposite him and Feyre, and focused on slowing her breathing,

"When did you find this?" Rhysand breathed,

"This morning," she managed, still struggling to fill her lungs, "Who could it be from?" She didn't bother with any formality, since this was court business, she probably should, but Rhysand didn't seem to notice, or care.

"Illyria. I've been sending Cassian and Azriel to inspect the camps each week, randomly, and forcing them to train the girls, and stop any wing-clipping." She knew that, Azriel had told her about the laws, "But who exactly would take it that far I can't be sure, there's a few potential candidates."

"You know where they are then?"

"No. They could be in any number of places, that is, if they're even at a camp at all." Gwyn was hardly breathing as she surveyed his face, "I'll come with you back up to the House, maybe there was some sort of sign that you didn't recognize." Gwyn nodded, still hardly registering what Rhysand had said, but she knew what to do now, she would be able to be of some help.

*****

It was dark. So, so dark. Azriel opened his eyes only for familiar images to flood his mind, he was underground, in a familiar dungeon. He tried to surge to his feet, but his legs wouldn't obey, and he collapsed back onto the floor face-first. His head was still spinning when a dark chuckle sounded through the darkness, and he shuffled backwards as he saw the male's cold face,

"Long time no see, little brother." He sneered,

"You are not my brother." Azriel snapped, glaring at the young lord, hatred bristling within him, but he still couldn't stand, not after whatever drug had been used against him. He carefully monitored his breathing, hiding any trace of fear, and stared him down, "What do you want?" He snarled,

"Your High Lord has been crushing our freedom for too long now, at least officially. But, your damned females worrying about their husbands are making everyone else too cowardly. Even the few camp lord who haven't found ways to cope with your new damned laws have mostly let it go. Since I won't see you on a battlefield, it's about time we had you back, you've been off pretending you're not just a bastard nobody for too long." The male stepped right up to the bars of the cell, "You are going to live the life that you were meant to, and the other bastard will die." Cassian. It took five centuries of training not to let any emotion show on his face, "And his mate. Pretty little thing, I think my men will enjoy spending some time with her before I kill her too." He hadn't mentioned Gwyn, perhaps they hadn't known she was there. He had to be sure.

"So you think that kidnapping us will get Rhys to let you treat females like dirt again?" He let out a hoarse laugh, "He knows that all three of us would rather die." No reaction.

"That's irrelevant, the question is would he let you die? I think not, Cauldron knows why, but he's rather attached to you isn't he? Besides, I don't give a shit about females, I do give a shit about the arrogant little bastard who thinks he can just walk away because he's an oh so special shadowsinger. You are no-one." He was right, Azriel was nothing, no-one, but he hid every emotion, glaring at the male. Azriel was still snarling when his brother disappeared again, leaving him alone in the shadows.

He pulled himself to a sitting position, breathing slowly to calm the rush in his head before heaving himself to his feet, he almost vomited at the pain in his leg, the blood seeping through a shoddy bandage, he took several deep breaths, and set his foot on the ground. Surely they wouldn't be stupid enough to keep him here, it was too obvious. Cassian and Nesta could be anywhere. He couldn't smell them over the damp in the dungeon, couldn't smell anything. He carefully stepped towards the bars, examining them for any weaknesses, any chance that he might break them. Nothing, they must have reinforced the bars to prepare, without his siphons he couldn't break them, not without killing himself in the process.

There was no way out. He couldn't bring himself to care, if this was his fate so be it, but Cassian, and Nesta, he could never let them be trapped here. He would find a way out, for them, just for them, and Gwyn. Gwyn, who had trusted him, shit she had kissed him, and he'd left her alone. He sank to the floor again, leaning against the wall, the cold stone leaching all the warmth out of him, but he didn't notice, not as the thought of Gwyn warmed him endlessly. Shadows swirled, he had to get back to her, he would not leave her alone, never again would she be alone. Azriel studied the bars again. He was getting out. He had to.