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historiaxvanserra · 7 days

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Distraction pt. 2

A/N: this is more of a drabble because I'd planned on Distraction being a one shot, but I hope this gives you all a satisfying ending💜

Distraction - Part 1

warnings: canon-typical violence

Hand grasping Azriel’s tight, you ignored the thrill that shot through you at his touch as you wound through the crowd of people.

“I think he may have recognized you, so we’ll need to stick to the shadows and keep our distance,” you murmured over your shoulder, noting Azriel’s wide eyes as he stumbled after you. “...Or I can go out on my own, and you stay behind in case anything happens inside the ballroom,” you amended.

Azriel only swallowed thickly, his jaw tight as his grip tightened around your own.

You’d never seen Azriel like this. It wasn’t typical of him to be flustered during missions, but there was no time to waste with questioning him as you watched the Hybernian male walk swiftly from the balcony to the steps leading towards the garden.

“I will follow, you stay and keep watch,” you whispered, ignoring the tightening in your chest as you leaned up to press a kiss to Azriel’s cheek.

“I’m just stepping out for some air, if you wouldn’t mind grabbing us some drinks in the meantime. I love you, darling,” you cooed to Azriel, loud enough that the surrounding fae could hear your newly-mated endearments.

Azriel turned still as a statue as you leaned closer to him, something you couldn’t place shifting in his scent as you pressed the kiss to his cheek. It was difficult to maintain your facade when your friend was acting so strange, but if Azriel wouldn’t use any warnings or signals, you decided to continue with the plan.

Taking a deep breath, you plastered a dazed, pleasant smile on your features as you strode out into the moonlight. Pretending to take in the view of the garden, you scanned for any sign of the white-haired male you’d been watching, only to see him slowly meandering towards the garden maze.

You sighed, hiking up your skirts to trod down the stairs after him. Smiling at a guard, you asked politely whether the gardens where open for a stroll, sure to flash him your wide innocent eyes and ample breasts as you did so.

Eyes flashing from your chest to your painted lips, the young guard managed with reddened cheeks to affirm that you could enter the maze. “Thank you,” you purred, fingertips grazing his arm as you passed, smirking at the shiver you felt pass through him at your touch.

Dim faelights bobbed throughout the hedges, illuminating the path just enough to show your next steps. Layers of skirts dragged on the ground, and you cursed your womanhood as you struggled to stay discreet while wandering through the florals.

Peach-colored roses blossomed on the hedge that you passed, the scent sweet and gentle when you stopped to smell their blooming petals. Movement caught the corner of your vision, body standing at attention to see the male from the ballroom watching you with dreadful gaze.

“Pardon me, sir,” you laughed softly. “I was finding some fresh air, and succumbed to the temptation of the beautiful roses.”

He didn’t respond, arms flexing beneath his coat as a long dagger shot from his hand. A wicked smile curved upon his lips, and you noticed the reddish eyes tracking you like a hunter with its prey. “Naive, female, Night Court filth,” he cooed, shadowing dancing around you as he took a step forward.

Bushes rustled, and you realized that you were surrounded, frantic arms reaching for the dagger under your skirts pulled to your sides by two other fae.

“Is your lesser fae mate the reason you are so amenable to the humans’ cause? Would you still fight as valiantly if something were to happen to him, I wonder?” He chuckled, raising his blade to glint in the faelight as Azriel was brought into view, cuffed in Gorsian schackles, blood dripping from his face.

Something felt ripped from your chest at the sight of him - hazel eyes helpless and shameful as he gazed up at you - but you were trained better. “If you know well enough to know that we are from the Night Court, then you should know well enough that we are not truly mates,” you countered, although your voice shook and muscles trembled while you held your head high.

A chorus of laughter erupted around you, your own arms shaking from the fae at your sides finding amusement in your words. “What a pathetic excuse,” the male drawled, white hair glinting in the moonlight as he strode towards where Azriel kneeled on the ground.

Tipping up his chin with the blade, the Hybernian rogue tilted Azriel to look at him. “She doesn’t claim you as her mate,” he cooed, “even though we can all smell it on you. How sorrowful, yet how apt for a lesser halfbreed like you.”

Shucking Azriel to the side, the shadowsinger’s blood spilled as the male focused his attention again on you, but you were lost to his cause.

Red blood dripped onto the cobblestone path, hazel eyes gleaming in the dark sending that spark through you tenfold. It hit like a gale of wind, knocking the breath from your lungs as your mind tumbled with the force of realization. Azriel was your mate.

A world you hadn’t recognized before seemed to snap into place, everything you’d been through in your life fitting together like puzzle pieces that led you to this moment, this male. For the first time, everything made sense.

And with that recognition, so came the instincts. Your mate was in danger. Alarm bells rang in your head, but sense was thrown to the side when your vision turned red with rage.

You vaguely remembered roaring, “get your hands off of my mate,” before spiraling into bloodlust, cutting down every living being, save Azriel, within your vision.

Blood dripped, sticky against your face, arms, hands - but nothing lit up your senses like Azriel did in that moment. Knees hit the stone hard in front of him, kneeling at even level as you shakily grabbed the key, freeing your mate from his shackles.

“You... You are my mate,” you muttered, awestruck at the male before you, more vulnerable than you had ever seen him.

“I am,” he choked out, eyes pleading. “I am sorry. I didn’t know what to say, but I couldn’t let you go out here alone. I love you. Before I knew you were my mate, I have loved you more than I thought possible. You are my best friend, the one person who understands me more than anyone, and I feel foolish that I did not realize it sooner,” he muttered, gaze falling downcast as you felt his regret down the bond.

“Azriel,” you whispered, voice light with a mixture of amusement and wonder. “You are my best friend. And yet, it took me even longer to realize. You are my forever, what life has been leading me to this whole time. You are the kindest protector and supporter, and I am honored to be your mate.”

Azriel grew radiant, shadows dancing as they wrapped over his wings and enveloped you in a cool embrace. Hands dropped your weapons, twining in the hair at the nape of his neck as your lips found his.

Azriel’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush to his in a way that you’d never felt with him before. Heat pooled in your core at the feeling of his hardening length against your stomach, hands tugging on his onyx hair as you moaned softly into your mate’s mouth.

“Azriel, can we go somewhere to be alone?” you whispered.

“I am yours for the rest of my existence, and whatever may follow,” Azriel groaned, shadows enveloping the both of you as you were spirited away.

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historiaxvanserra · 11 days

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historiaxvanserra · 14 days

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“Peel your heart like a pomegranate.

Offer it to him, palms outwards.

Say “eat.”

Watch him come away stained red by you.

You’re in his teeth.

He’ll kiss you with that mouth.”

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historiaxvanserra · 16 days

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A small snippet of something I've been working on! (yes it is dual POV but you'll see why in good time, babes) it's a whole ass novel that's why! a preemptive acotar 6 re-write, if you will!

I'm just testing the waters to see if anyone is remotely interested and because I'm really excited about this one! I think maybe, at least until my teacher training year is over this is going to be my main (only) writing focus other than original work. Like I said its a BIG undertaking but I'm really hyped for it.

AZRIEL'S POV

She had first come back to him on a night like this. In flashes of violet and onyx; painted in the seraphic light of a bleeding star. Haunting and prophetic.

It’s his first Starfall in Illyria in half a lifetime and he’s alone; far from anywhere that feels like home. That’s when he feels it. A cataclysmic vein of power that reverberates through the Illyrian wilderness. So profound that he swears the mountain trembles in the wake of it. Some dark star streaks across the sky; bleeding silver and cerulean into the velvet abyss that saturates the mountains in Ramiel’s long shadows, and for the first time in a long time Azriel finds himself uttering her name like an oath.

There in the heavens, and saturated in the darkness at the edge of the world, he finds her again. Azriel reaches out a scarred hand and tracks the star as it arches across the cosmos in veins of violet and cerulean, his fingers ghost a smattering of silver stars that form a constellation in the shape of her. She calls to him. In a language so old, and lost to time, that only the earth itself might infer some meaning from the whispers of power on the westward wind.

A secret contained between him and the sky.

The Solar of Rhysand’s mother’s cabin is reminiscent of the Temple of The Mother in Velaris; sacred and saturated in the technicolor light of the stained glass crescent moons that curve across its high-domed ceiling. A myriad of indigo and amethyst; incandescent with flecks of gold and jade as the crystals inlaid into their center catch in the light of a thousand silver stars. This room is a testament to the craftsmanship of the Illyrian people and on nights like tonight that domed ceiling is the lens through which he sees the world.

The stars continue their ascent across the heavens into the small hours of the morning and Azriel watches every last one, hoping to catch one more fleeting glimpse of her as she crosses over the constellations stitched into the very tapestry of the sky over Illyria. At some point as the brightest stars burn blue against the black Azriel finds himself reclining into the makeshift bed in the Solar of the cabin as his body, weary and worn, begins to flirt with sleep.

That night when he dreams, he dreams of her.

Azriel waits beneath some ill-fated sky as the scene unfurls from the dark corners of his memory. Like a hand reaching through the veil of the dark-- and he reaches back.

The sky is a thunderstorm, heat swelling beneath the skin's surface as the clouds begin to gather in hordes and Ramiel’s dark shadows veil the world as he knows it in a shroud of black. The seraphic blue light of the three pointed star cuts through the blanket of the dark, offering Azriel a reprieve from the suffocating blue-darkness that swallows everything in its wake. Drawing peace from the shadows.

In his dreams, the storm-streaked clouds loom ominous on the darkening horizon as midnight encroaches on the Illyrian wilderness and Azriel finds himself wading into the stretches of the wild, emerald forest. A voice, disembodied and cruel, calls out to him from the emerald wilderness. It’s laden with malice and dark intent as it whispers to him on the westward wind.

The road ahead of him is muddy and foxgloved and there's this ache. It’s a dull kind of agony that cuts through his chest and makes a home in the spaces between his ribs. And there is a girl. She’s screaming into the vacuous twilight beyond and the stars seem to flicker in and out of existence each time the howling wind catches in her throat. Uncertain feet carry him over the threshold of the encampment and every now and again his feet feel a tremor in the muddy earth-- a recollection of all that he had lost.

The atmosphere is oppressive and the acrid smell of smoke and rain linger there, clinging to the half-eroded stone and decaying wood. This cabin, once warm and breathing itself to life with the symphonies of her gentle laughter and Azriel’s mournful song. But this place had been abandoned long ago. Now, it lies desecrated, amongst the climbing ivy and dying jasmine. The cabin breathes an unsteady breath each time the wind catches in the hearth; it’s aching and heaving like every breath might be its last.

Azriel’s shadows convulse and contrort violently. Like ghosts in his periphery. The world goes dark for a moment and the war drums echo in the night air. Something ancient and long dead calls his name.

Azriel.

Through the blanket of the dark all that he can see are her eyes, glinting and violet in the unforgiving light. It’s then in the light of the waning moon that his eyes map the constellations of scars that adorn her body. All silver and incandescent as though she is wreathed in starlight. She comes to him like night; veiled in shadow and shook up with the sound of the storm. She looks half-divine and Azriel thinks that she must be both, ghost and Goddess. Lithe and brutal. The apparition of some ancient deity. There is something wild and sacred in her eyes. Some strange melancholic beauty that almost brings him to his knees.

She had been lovely in life, Azriel thinks. But now. Now she is fucking annihilating.

The storm on the horizon shakes the earth and the world is afire with forked lightning as it illuminates the velvet night. She waits beneath the same storm-streaked cloud and a ripple of devastating power shakes the earth beneath her feet. The world falls silent as she falls to her knees at the foot of the hearth and Azriel swears he can hear her praying. The prayers that fall from her lips are in some ancient tongue; the words are unknown but the sentiment is clear.

She’s searching for salvation on unholy ground, like a shadow unearthed from its grave. Lightning cracks and the cabin heaves its dying breath and Azriel holds out a scarred hand to her.

She reaches back.

Azriel wakes with the first light, the mournful song of his shadows severing his tenuous connection to the Otherworld. It’s an old melody; sung softly to babes while still in their swaddling. Its words are uttered in the Old language and much of its meaning has been lost to time but Azriel still recognises the tragedy embedded into its verse. His own mother had often hummed the words of that ancient melody in those hours when he and her were reunited in the darkness of his fathers house.

The shadows sing of The Fates; the severing of sacred threads and a blue star that reigns over the valley that heralds the coming of the Old Gods. It is a song that maps the history of his people, brutal as it might be. The shadows tell the tale of Enilaus' defense of Ramiel and a temple beneath the great mountain. Azriel clings to each word, searching for some semblance of meaning in the shadows' cryptic verse.

With each passing hour Azriel finds that his return to Illyria brings with it a strange sense of remembrance; of things passed, of things long forgotten.

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x you #WIP

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historiaxvanserra · 16 days

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Do you guys mind if I post stupid little teasers for the thing I'm writing?! its a long one so unfortunately nowhere near done but I am so excited for it and I just want to show someone!!

#totally just after some validation so I know its not shit but I'm quietly confident about this one boys

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historiaxvanserra · 16 days

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“The Illyrians are pieces of shit,” he said too quietly. I opened my mouth and shut it. Shadows gathered around his wings, trailing off him and onto the thick red rug. “They train and train as warriors, and yet when they don’t come home, their families make us into villains for sending them to war?” “Their families have lost something irreplaceable,” I said carefully. Azriel waved a scarred hand, his cobalt Siphon glinting with the movement as his fingers cut through the air. “They’re hypocrites.”

It's not exactly a secret that Azriel harbors deep-seated issues related to his Illyrian heritage. Both his brothers are keenly aware of his feelings toward them, bordering on hatred. When HOFAS was released, revealing their rebellion against the Daglan and Enalius to align with High King Fionn, it shed light on a forgotten history. The blood rite, once a means of honoring Enalius, had devolved into a deadly competition. Against this backdrop, the Valkyries' victory in the Blood Rite stands out, with Nesta assuming the role of Enalius to protect Gwyn and Emerie's ascent to the mountain peak.

Gwyn didn’t flinch. “I have. And I am tired of it.” She surveyed the blood-soaked leather along her thigh. “I don’t want to take the safe road.” She pointed to the mountain, to the slender path upward. “I want to take that road.” Her voice thickened. “I want to take the road that no one dares travel, and I want to travel it with you two. No matter what may befall us. Not as Illyrians, not for their titles, but as something new. To prove to them, to everyone, that something new and different might triumph over their rules and restrictions.” A cold wind blew off Ramiel’s sides. Whispering, murmuring.

Gwyn's connection to Azriel extends beyond mere companionship; she represents his journey toward self-acceptance and a desire for change within the Illyrian community. It's noteworthy that Gwyn, not Nesta, is the inaugural Valkyrie and the first non-Illyrian to hold the Carynthian title.

This choice underscores Gwyn's pivotal role in Azriel's narrative and the broader arc of cultural evolution within the Illyrian society.

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historiaxvanserra · 16 days

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do you have any wips at the minute? no pressure but possibly an update for whatever our souls are made of sometime soon?

I do have far too many WIPs currently! but I am trying to update all of my multi-chapter fics asap! updates are sporadic and mostly just when I can find the inspiration or the time!

I'm really into something for Azriel I've been working on for a while that I am really excited about but after that I will try and finish chapter 4 of my Rhys fic before moving on to anything else 🖤

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historiaxvanserra · 16 days

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um-I LOVE this?!?! Cassian gets overlooked so much and I fucking love him so much 🖤

Words of Affirmation

Pairing: Reader x Cassian

Summary: Even the Lord of Bloodshed gets insecure sometimes. As his mate, you always know the right words to say.

Warnings: established relationship fluff :)

Word Count: 2.3k

just a quick sweet fluffy piece to make up for all my angst. dedicated to the one and only @sarawritestories

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Cassian would never admit it, but the assumptions of his intelligence bothered him. He was always a brute, a mindless warrior, a soldier— nothing more. He knew, deep down, that his brothers rivaled him in all matters of the mind. They were more collected, more capable with familial matters and court affairs. Simply put, they were smarter.

And he had accepted that— at least, he told himself he had. After all, he was talented where it mattered. He was a good male, a good friend, a good brother, a good commander— and amazing in bed. So truly, it shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did when his meeting with Eris went sour.

Cassian entered the room with heavy steps, a frown on his face as he began to peel off his coat, each movement slow and heavy with frustration. A part of him hoped that he could shed more than just the layer of clothing, hoped that coming home would rid him of the insecurity that had threaded itself through his ribs.

You observed him quietly, taking in the way his muscles tensed and released with each motion, the subtle clenching of his jaw, the deep exhale. He hadn’t looked at you yet, hadn’t made his classic entrance. On most days, Cass would return home with a huge grin, door thrown wide open as he bellowed out your name with a burning heart.

But he was quiet today. And you knew exactly why– you could feel it through the bond. Cassian was sad.

Your footsteps were quiet against the wood floors as you slowly walked towards him.

“Things didn’t go well?”

Your voice was soft and gentle and the sound of it sent a ripple of relief through his body. Still, he felt heavy. Tired. He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he finally discarded his coat onto a nearby chair. “I don’t know how Rhysand does it.”

“Does what?”

“This whole diplomacy thing, even Azriel. I just… I couldn’t. I'm too stupid for it. Just an idiot.”

Your heart clenched at his words, a heaviness settling on the glowing bond in your chest. You wanted to console him, to fight and kill whatever it was that was unsettling him so deeply. But the thing that was causing Cassian pain wasn’t anything you could fight yourself. It was his own mind, the insecurities he was too afraid to acknowledge.

Before you could open your mouth to respond, he waved you off with a frustrated gesture.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, his tone heavy with defeat, “I’m just whining. I’ll get over it.”

You frowned, letting out a small breath.

“No, don’t say that,” you said gently, taking a step closer to him. “You’re allowed to be frustrated. But you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

Cassian’s brows furrowed.

“I’m not?”

You took in the sight of your mate for a moment, took in his long hair and brown eyes, took in the stubble on his jaw and the way he let out a small breath. You extended your hand to him, voice low as you murmured, “C’mere, honey.”

He hesitated for a moment before he gently took your hand and closed the distance between you, large arms wrapping around your waist as he looked down at you.

“You are a big ole’ dummy,” you teased lightly, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you put your hands around his neck. You felt Cassian melt into your touch ever so slightly, eyes shuttering closed as a small hum left his lips. “But you are brilliant. Like really fucking smart.”

Cassian’s eyes opened to meet yours, somewhat narrowed in skepticality. You rubbed the nape of his neck with your thumbs.

“I mean, you’re a war general. You’ve commanded hundreds of soldiers, have won countless battles– wars, even. You couldn’t get away with those things as an idiot.”

Cassian grumbled, but you caught the hint of a smile dancing in his stormy eyes, felt the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. A wry chuckle bubbled up from deep within him as he shook his head, his lips quirking up in a brief smile.

“Well, I don’t know about that one, we have Beron and Tam-”

You rolled your eyes.

“Would you just let me compliment you?” You interrupted with a gentle shake of your head, eyebrows raised as you looked at him.

A soft chuckle escaped him. “My bad.”

“You are so incredibly smart,” you repeated earnestly, slightly pulling him down and urging him to place his forehead against yours.

He stayed quiet for a moment, his gaze heavy as he searched for something in your eyes. He seemed to find it as he gave you a small smile. “You really think so?”

You pulled yourself back gently, dropping your hands from his neck to take his in your own. Then, you gently guided one hand to your chest, letting him feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat beneath his touch.

“Does it feel like I’m lying?” you asked softly.

Cassian’s expression softened as his gaze flickered to where your hand held his. You watched as a glow of warmth lit up his eyes.

“No,” he said quietly, “It does not.”

And then he was bringing his hands to hold your face, leaning in to kiss you tenderly, his lips a gentle caress against yours.

He wasn’t sure if he believed it yet, if he was comfortable enough with considering himself to be smart, let alone brilliant. But you, his beautiful mate, the love of his life— you thought he was smart, you thought he was brilliant.

And truly, that's all that mattered to him.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It wasn’t that he was insecure about his looks, no, that wasn't it.

Cassian knew he was attractive, knew that he was hot and ruggedly handsome. He knew from the looks that he got from females and males alike, from the scent changes that he caused, and the lovers he had bedded.

But sometimes, when standing next to Rhysand and Azriel, Cassian would catch himself wondering if he was rough around the edges in ways that his brothers were smoother, more appealing. After all, they were the two more classically pretty males, the more softly attractive and very often audibly complimented.

And then there was him, the rough warrior.

Attractive, yes, but pretty? Elegant? Those were never words used to describe him.

There was a soft glow in your room tonight, gentle shadows casted across the bed from flickering fae light. Cassian let out a deep sigh as he prepared to climb into bed, his muscles aching and head heavy as he shed the remenands of his day.

You watched him with a tender gaze as you lay on the bed. The faintest hint of a smile played at the corners of your lips as your eyes traced the lines of his face. Cass caught your gaze with his own, a warm hearty brown that made your heart flutter.

A playful smirk tugged at his lips as he noticed your lingering stare. "You like what you see, sweetheart?"

You grinned, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth as you tilted your head. "Always.”

With a grin of his own, Cassian began to crawl towards you. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he closed the distance between you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Admiring how absolutely handsome I am?” he said, “How Incredibly sexy?"

You let out a small laugh as he reached your face, his body hovering over yours. With a gentle hand, you pushed back his tousled hair, your touch feather-light against his skin. A soft sigh escaped him, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savored the warmth of your touch. His lips wore a content smile.

"So beautiful," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you traced the contours of his face with your fingertips.

He pulled back slightly, his eyebrows knitting together as his eyes scanned your face. You ran your finger along the crease that they created. "Beautiful?"

You nodded, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Yes, beautiful. Maybe I don't tell you enough."

He chuckled softly as he leaned into your touch, heart swelling with warmth at your words. There was a new flutter in his chest that he didn’t recognize. For a moment, Cassian felt shy— he wasn’t quite sure why. But he laughed it off all the same.

"That's a word reserved for you, sweetheart."

You shook your head, your fingers trailing down his cheek to cup his face in your hands. "My beautiful mate,” you whispered, "My handsome, gorgeous, incredibly sexy, and beautiful mate."

For the first time in a while, Cass was stunned, unable to respond as quickly as he was used to. Your words held a certain reverence to them, a sincerity that made him melt into your touch— made him melt into your voice itself. Before you, Cassian never knew himself as something gentle, as something capable of softness and sensitivity. But here he was before you, in all of his warrior glory, feeling like a child with a playground crush. And there you were, staring at him like he was the most exquisite thing you’d ever laid eyes on. So when words failed him, Cassian did the only thing he saw fit.

He leaned in to kiss you tenderly, bringing his lips to yours softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him in closer, feeling his warmth against you as he smiled into the kiss. From deep within your chest, you felt a glow— a deep, ethereal, and overwhelming glow.

Beautiful, his mind echoed, beautiful.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You let out a soft sigh as you settled onto the couch with Cassian, pushing yourself further into his warm chest as he wrapped an arm around you. You’d spent the night at the River House, drinking more wine than you could handle and eating almost all of Elain's sweet desserts. There was a smile on your face as your eyes closed, your hearing quickly tuning into the heartbeat of your mate below you.

You frowned when the sound began to quicken, echoing like a drum in your ears. You pushed yourself up, slightly turning your body and placing a hand on Cassian's chest. When you looked up at him, his face was scrunched, his gaze distant as if lost in contemplation.

Cassian wore a specific face when he was troubled, furrowed brows and a downturn of his lips. He wore it was he was sad or frustrated, when he had thoughts that plagued him at night. The face before you was a troubled one, indeed. But it was less rough than the others he bore, more vulnerable.

You slightly tapped against him with your palm. Cassian blinked at the sensation, then he slowly looked down to meet your eyes with his own. You let your chin fall gently on his chest.

“What's wrong?”

Cassian managed a smile, shaking his head as he brought his hand to run over your hair. “Nothing.”

You frowned. “Tell me.”

For a moment, Cassian’s thoughts traveled again. Mor’s laugh echoed in his mind, wine glass in hand as she pointed at him. You have the subtlety of a war horn. You’re so loud I can hear you across Prythian. I don’t know how Y/n handles it all the time.

"Am I too loud?"

His voice came out rushed, drenched in a tinge of what you could only describe as worry— even doubt.

A flicker of surprise passed through your features. “What?”

He let out a sigh. “I don’t know. Mor said something tonight, it just got me thinking.”

“Mor says a lot of things. Especially when she's drunk.”

“I know.” He nodded in agreement, tongue running across his teeth before he let out another sigh. “But she had a point tonight.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did she?”

He took a moment to take you in, to trace the features of your face with his eyes. Absentmindedly, he ran his hands through your hair.

“Maybe I am too loud.”

Cassian's voice was defeated now, lips naturally falling into a frown. The crease between his eyebrows was still there as he peered down at you, hand still caressing your head.

You stared at him for a moment before you responded. "You're so loud."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Cassian's face. But before the thought could spread through his mind, a soft smile graced your features. You gave his chest a small kiss. “But I love it. So very much.”

Cassian’s eyes lit up, a sense of release evident in his features as his lips curved into a smile. The crease between his eyebrows faded. "Really?"

"Absolutely," you affirmed, your voice filled with a sincerity that made his heart flutter. "My world would be too quiet without you."

Cassian’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb gently swiping loose strands away from your forehead. “Yeah?”

You nodded against him, chin still resting on his chest. “I hear everything I love in your voice.”

He smiled, the bond deep within him singing as he stared at you. He felt you tug at it, felt a roll of warmth run through his body— something gentle, something loving. And for a minute, Cassian could have cried at the sensation, could have cried at the way you looked at him, at how happy he felt.

With his heart swelling, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he murmured, voice filled with a depth of emotion that he couldn’t quite express in words. He hoped that you could sense it, that you would hear those words and know everything he was trying to say— that you would understand just how much you meant to him, how your love filled him with a sense of peace and belonging he never knew he needed.

With a contented sigh, you snuggled closer to him, feeling his now steady heartbeat beneath your cheek. “I know,” you said, “You practically scream it from the heavens.”

Cassian let out a deep laugh, the sound reverberating through his chest. You felt his body move from under you, felt as the sound caressed you like a pair of warm hands.

As his laughter subsided, Cassian pulled you closer to him. “I’ll keep shouting it so you’ll always hear it,” he whispered.

A warmth spread through you at his words, a feeling of love so strong it was tangible through that sacred tie that connected you.

“And I’ll keep listening.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

me not writing angst?? (i’m about to write the most gut wrenching pieces ever) unheard of. but we love a sweet established relationship <3

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria

#lowkey the SMARTEST bat boy #cassian x reader

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