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#I MUST KNOW MORE ABOUT MORRIGAN I MUST I MUST I MUST

shadowdaddies · 6 months

Note

could i request one where it’s azriel x reader where reader meets him for the first time and is stunned. Literally stunned. Feyre and Rhys introduce reader to azriel and all she can do is stare at him with no words coming out. Feyre and Rhysand silently giggle and reader snaps out of her trance before she can drool. She blushes and apologizes to him. When he leaves she turns to feyre and rhys and tell them that she has to meet him again. They continue meeting and the bond snaps🥹🥹🥹

anon I feel this in my soul lmao, I'm usually pretty dismissive towards men but I would not be able to keep my cool around Azriel. I love love this prompt and loved writing this, thank you for sending the request💜💜

Enchanted

Azriel x Reader

The only sound was the crackling fireplace in Rhysand’s office as you lounged in one of his enormous leather chairs, lazily sipping on your drink as you studied the mobile of planets in front of you.

You’d grown up in the Court of Nightmares, developing a clever nature by necessity - outwitting the males who functioned as your oppressors your greatest tool for survival in such a place. You became acquainted with Morrigan while Rhys was under the mountain, becoming a trusted advisor of hers. She advocated that your vast knowledge of everything ranging from inter-court relations to theories about your universe would be a helpful addition to the Inner Circle, and Rhys and Feyre agreed, eager for your assistance with the overlying threat from Koschei.

You were more than content to work alone in your research, but Rhys and Mor both insisted that their spymaster, Azriel, would prove helpful in organizing his spies in other courts to further your efforts in attaining any information you could gather. Naturally, you were irritated at the presumption that you needed a male’s help. You had navigated the Court of Nightmares, and if anyone thought that they could disrupt your extensive research and take over your mission, they would be sorely disappointed. Thus, you resolved to remain unperturbed by this spymaster, keeping an air of indifference about yourself as the door to the study cracked open - Rhys, Feyre, and the most stunning male you’d ever seen entering the room.

Your eyes shuttered as you struggled not to drop the glass in your hand as you took in the sight of Azriel. He consumed the room - everything else small and insignificant as his golden hazel eyes bored into you. It was an airy, breathless feeling – as though your body was adjusting to no longer needing oxygen to live, but him.

You didn’t realize you’d been staring until Rhysand cleared his throat, your attention turning towards him and Feyre as they gave you twin smirks. Whether Azriel noticed your reaction to his presence, he was kind enough not to mention it. Rather, he gave you a polite nod as he quietly introduced himself, allowing you to lead the discussion as the four of your began your meeting.

You continued working with Azriel over the next several months - searching for any trait of his that would alleviate the butterflies that erupted in your stomach every time you saw him - but the only thing you detested about Azriel was how there was nothing detestable about him. He was kind and polite, never spoke over you, and yet every time he looked in your eyes it was as though you were struck by lightning.

You’d never struggled keeping your composure around a male before, as there were none like Azriel. It had become an issue for you, where you felt a sense of panic before you would see him, unable to trust whether you would be able to keep your own sense of professionalism around him when everything he did made you fall more in love with him.

It was on a day that you were supposed to meet with Azriel on the outskirts of Velaris to go over your recent findings when you began to panic. Surely he must know how you felt for him - he must be playing you, knowing your feelings for him as he enjoying embarrassing you. No male had been that kind to you in the Court of Nightmares - why did you think Azriel would be different?

You fled from your meeting place, not making it far before familiar shadows materialized in front of you, a concerned-looking spymaster taking in your frantic state as he searched you for signs of harm. He slowly approached you, as one might approach a frightened animal, taking your hands in his. Hazel eyes searching yours with an intensity that had your stomach in knots, Azriel whispered, “are you alright? I saw you running as I flew overhead, but I didn’t see anyone else around.”

His open show of concern for you brought a flood of emotions as you collapsed into his chest, sobbing as you finally let go of your pride regardless of Azriel’s intentions. As you let your walls down and looked up at Azriel - a new openness in your eyes to let him see the impact he had on you - his features shifted. Azriel stumbled for the first time since you’d known him, his jaw going slack as the two of you stared at each other in stunned silence for several moments.

You sniffled, wiping away your tears as you found the courage to explain. “Azriel, I have had feelings for you that I have never had for anyone else. I am not used to kind males, and I don’t know how I can work with you when I feel the way I do about you. I am so confused, and I just need you to be honest with me because I cannot go on like this.”

As tears welled in your eyes again, you looked to Azriel to see silver lining his own eyes, and he laughed. It was a soft laugh, one of relief as he surged forward and hugged you. You slowly wrapped your arms around him, melting into his warm embrace, the both of you enjoying each others’ soothing presence.

Azriel pulled away, wiping your tears with his thumbs and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He sighed, smiling softly as he looked down at you. “You’re my mate,” he whispered. “I’ve been drawn to you for so long, but I didn’t think that you felt the same towards me. I didn’t believe you wanted anything more from me other than a working relationship... but just now - when you looked at me with those beautiful eyes, so open and earnest - it snapped for me.”

Suddenly everything clicked for you. The feeling that you had when you first met Azriel, the draw to him, the comfort you’d never felt with anyone else. Your mate. You pulled him down for a kiss, and Azriel smiled against your lips as love and peace flowed between you through the bond.

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feyreswaterybowels · 3 months

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Shadows Dance🐦‍⬛

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You are Azriel’s mate of 150 years. Your home used to be Velaris until your sister mysteriously disappeared 60 years ago without a trace and it’s been your life’s mission to find her. That is until one day you’re back in Velaris for the first time in years to meet the new high lady and you get your first clue as to where your sister may be after all these years.

Warnings: mentions of missing child, mentions of death in child birth, implied sexual content.

Part 1 ↓

“Wait, Azriel has a mate?” Feyre gawked at her mate, eyes wide and mouth ajar.

“How did I not know this? I thought he was interested in Mor?”

“Azriel and Morrigan do have a strong love for one another. But not in a romantic sense. Azriel as been mated to (Y/N) for little over 150 years.” Rhys confirms, with a grin

“How come I haven’t met her yet?” Feyre asks, her interest peaked at this mysterious woman that’s never been mentioned to her—confused when her mate's grin falters.

“(Y/N) comes and goes. It’s hard for her to stay in one place for to long. When her and Azriel first mated he was around for a long time, a valuable member of the inner circle. About 60 years ago her younger sister went missing, she just disappeared one day. Little Sarah, was just a mere 16 years old—much younger than all of us. We never found her,” Rhys pauses, taking a deep breath. “(Y/N) can’t let it go. She won’t stay here long before she has to go back out and we let her go and just hope she’ll return home with her sister one day.”

“Oh, gods,” Feyre gasps, knowing if it were her sisters she would never stop looking either. “I can’t say I blame her. But 60 years? (Y/N) still has hope her sister is out there?”

That is silent, his eyes flicking down to the floor and Feyre feel a tug on their bond. A sad thing and she frowns.

“You all think she is?” She asks and Rhy sighs

“Honestly? I don’t know. I feel like anything is possibly until we know otherwise. Best case scenario she’s found and returned home. Worst case scenario we find out she’s…gone and we avenge her death in any way we can.”

“You all must have really loved her?” Feyre breaths, grasping her mate's hand.

“(Y/N)’s mother died giving birth to little Sarah. (Y/N) and Azriel raised her here in the House of Wind—we all did. When she was lost…it was devastating. We searched endlessly for years before we had to make the decision to stop. (Y/N) stopped for 3 years and stayed here with Azriel but she soon became restless. She needed answers about her sister and she couldn’t find them here. It was a hard day when she decided to leave. Azriel almost went with her but she talked him out of it, telling him he needed to stay here. He sees her more than we do of course, he’ll travel to her when he can. She only pops in here once in a blue moon, I think it’s too painful for her to come home to where she raised that child and not have her here.” Rhys explains, emotional and sympathetic. The loss of a friend and a child had to have been hard on them all.

“I hope to meet her one day, she seems lovely,” Feyre offers, and Rhys violet eyes meet hers lovingly.

“You two will be quick friends, just like you and Mor,” Rhys grins, and Feyre makes it a mental point to talk to Azriel—to check in on her friend knowing the situation he’s in is not an easy one to deal with.

——————————

2 Weeks Later

I slid through the shadows of the familiar halls I knew so well. I could hear voices and laughter drifting down the corridors and smirked to myself. Everyone was here, perfect. I looked up winnowing myself into the rafters, tucking my wings tightly and letting my body shift further into the shadows as it moved closer and closer to them.

Five people sitting around a dining table—only one missing. Food and wine scattered about as they talked and laughed. I grinned, lifting my shield just enough to let the shadows and house know someone was here before concealing myself completely again, watching as the three males at the table instantly became alerted to the presence of an unknown guest.

Mutterings of someone being in the house started and I laughed to myself jumping to another rafter. I half lifted my shield again, jumping to another rafter, all heads snapping above. Continuing until I was above one specific Illyrian before dropping down—gasps and shouts echoed around the room as I landed on his shoulders, shadows trying to wiggle past my shield to fight off the threat before I completely lifted it. Grinning down at my mate as I crouched on his shoulders.

“Long time no see,” I told him sweetly, bending down to kiss him.

“(Y/N)!” He exclaimed, reaching around to grab me and pull me into his arms.

Those shouts and exclamations turned into ones of my name and I laughed as my family gathered around prying me away from Azriel so they could get hugs of their own.

“You always did like to make a dramatic entrance,” Rhys grinned and I laughed as I hugged him, the second to last person standing around me.

I turned my attention to the female standing next to him hugging her as well, knowing exactly who she was.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Feyre,” I said, pulling back to look between her and Rhy. “I’ve heard so much about you from Az. I’m honored to finally meet you. I apologize for waiting so long to officially meet you.”

I take a step back, letting my mate envelop me in his arms once again.

“Oh, no apologies necessary, I’m glad you’re here now,” Feyre smiled warmly—her energy warm and inviting. “Will you be joining us?”

“Only for a bit before I drag my mate away,” I grinned up at him, the others around us laughing.

“I might drag you away first,” He growled, shadows tangling around us making me laugh.

The others snickered and made lewd jokes as they dispersed back towards the table.

My chair next to Azriel’s was waiting for me. I sit and his shadows twirl around me lovingly as he fixes a plate for me—a glass of wine appearing in front of me at the snap of Rhy’s fingers. I grin at him happily snatching the glass up and downing half of it in a large sip.

The night is wonderful, I’m seated next to Rhy who’s at the head of the table, Feyre on his other side and directly in front of me. I enjoy getting to know her—Rhy’s mate. They fit together so well. I enjoy catching up with cassian and Mor, oh how I missed her. I was endlessly happy to be back with my family.

———————

The Next Day

I woke up before the sun rose. I didn’t sleep much the night before. After Azriel and I dragged one another out of the dining room and to our shared quarters we made love over and over again to make up for time spent apart.

I had missed him so much. His hands on my body, his lips on my skin, how he would stroke my wings, his scent, the way his shadows would caress my body as he slowly took me apart with his mouth and fingers before filling me up and our silent communication—a bond only mated pairs know. It was always the perfect feeling, being with him after so long.

I couldn’t sleep though, I hadn’t slept well in this house in decades. So, I got up and dressed, kissed Azriel’s forehead and headed out into the dim hallway. I made my way to the training deck, I needed to burn off some of my pent up energy—to my surprise Feyre was standing there, hands wrapped and a few strands of hair stuck to her sweaty forehead.

“High Lady,” I grinned as our eyes met, a pretty smile spreading across her own lips—she really was as beautiful as everyone said.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be awake,” She says, pushing the hair off of her forehead.

“I don’t sleep well here,” I shrug and she nods, a look of understanding in her eyes that lets me know she knows why.

“Would you care for a morning spar?” She asks, gesturing to the opening.

“Oh hell yeah,” I nod excitedly.

We spar for hours. She’s good. I can tell she was trained by the boys—but I was able to teach her a few moves of my own. She caught on quick too—putting me on my ass only after a few tries of each move.

We bantered back and forth, playful jabs of sarcasm. It was nice. I used to love sparring with Mor, too…back when I was around long enough to actually train with her that is.

“Do you yield, high lady?” I sneer mockingly, dagger pressed under her chin as I straddle her chest, knees on her elbows pinning her effectively.

I’m keenly aware when there’s a presence of another but I don’t let it distract me, my attention focused on the woman under me.

“No,” She grunts, bucking hard enough to throw me off, sending the dagger tumbling from my hand. She’s on top of me then, forearm pressed against my throat. “Do you yield, (Y/N)?”

I tap the ground three times watching her grin form before she slides off of me, sitting to my left, both of us breathless. I let my eyes find him then, standing there arms across his chest looking gorgeous in the early morning sun—I can’t help but smile at him.

“I’ll give you two a few minutes,” Feyre says with a knowing smirk, pushing up and heading inside past Azriel with a smirk in his direction, too.

As soon as we’re alone he’s on me. Hands, mouth and shadows on every inch of skin he can get to. It wasn’t the worst way to finish off the morning.

Breaking apart only when Rhys called us inside, an urgency in his voice I hadn’t heard in a very long time.

An urgency that had every instinct in my body on alert.

#so excited for this series #what is so urgent for Rhys to speak with them?#Feyre and y/n are the best together #acotar #acomaf #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #shadow dance

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kasagia · 10 months

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Familiar flame

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x fem!Grisha! reader Summary: Aleksander lost his Y/N the day he created the fold. The king's soldiers killed his one true love in front of his eyes. His despair and anger led to the creation of a dark fold. After centuries, Aleksander meets a girl identical to his beloved… her reincarnation. Will he be able to restore your memories? Could he get you back after centuries of mourning you? Or maybe Aleksander finally lost his mind... Nonsense from me: This is request from @morrigan-crowmwell I hope that you like it! ♡♡ And I'm veeeery excited to write your next request! (and to publish it soon ♡♡) P.S. I'm sorry it took me ages again, luckily I'll have a lot more free time now, so I promise it'll get better. 😅 Warning(s): references to reincarnation; Aleksander misses the reader and can't resist her (even if she doesn't remember him); the reader is a bit hysterical; the reader behaves like a little child spoiled by Aleksander; the reader has Aleksander wrapped around her little finger, but he doesn't care; the reader has a panic attack and hyperventilation; de@th mentions; NOT CHECKED grammatically and so on - I wanted to publish it as soon as possible Word count: 9,4k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @morrigan-crowmwell

"So many centuries on this earth, and you're still a naive, hopeless romantic. Tell me how do you do it, boy?"

Baghra taunted him without even looking up from her dinner. Aleksander growled, irritated by her lack of interest. He slammed his fist on the table, drawing the unfazed woman's attention to him.

"It's true, I saw her! It was her!"

"Aleksander... you must move on." Darkling snorted, jumping up as if burned from his chair. Baghra followed her son as he ran out of her hut, not giving up. If they both had something in common, it was their great stubbornness. "How many times have you seen this girl? You have to realize that she's not coming back. Y/N is dead, Aleksander. For hundreds of years."

"She is here! I danced with her month ago at the ball, you can't tell me I didn't because I remember her face perfectly. It is etched in my mind more permanently than any other memory."

"You wanted an answer to your question. Here it is. There is no such thing as reincarnation, the reappearance of someone on this world. We die once, Aleksander. Once and successfully. So whoever you met yesterday, even with a face that looks like her, is not Y/N. So you'd better leave the innocent girl alone."

The Darkling laughed bitterly, shaking his head. His mother would never see him as more than a small, quick-tempered, silly boy. He should get used to it after all these years.

"You think I'd come to you with this if she was just one of the faces like her? Me and my people have been watching her for a month now, ever since some snobbish nobleman's daughter came back to the palace and turned out to be the only woman I ever cared about in this saint-damn world. It must be her. I don't know how, why, and honestly, I don't care as long as it's really her. Neither should you - as far as I remember you cared for her more than for me."

"Aleksander. I know you loved her, but you have to let her go. People just don't rise from the grave." she tried to reason with him. But he knew better.

It must be you. Somehow the Saints took pity on his tortured soul and returned you to him, and he wasn't going to stay further away from you than necessary.

He will have you again in his life, arms, and bed.

No matter what he has to sacrifice to restore your memories.

"Just as they don't live forever, and yet we do." he growled as he mounted his horse and galloped back towards the Little Palace. He was in for a long night spent in his library, poring over books. If Baghra didn't want to help him, he would find the answer himself.

"You stupid boy..." Baghra snorted, shaking her head in disappointment.

Your death was both the worst and best thing for her son. You would never live as long as they did - your death would have come anyway, just in a less bloody way. Ordinary people were fragile, and their lives were shorter—one breath of Baghra or Aleksander equaled thousands of them. She had no idea why her son was so stubborn about getting you back, even though you were truly reborn. Aleksander would lose you again. Even he couldn't fight death itself and go against nature in such a matter... or so Baghra hoped.

The boundaries that Aleksander wouldn't cross in your name were practically nonexistent.

And she would be afraid of him more with you by his side - the most powerful Etherealki woman this earth has ever seen… a tribrid with the powers of Squaller, Inferni and Tidemaker.

~•♤♤♤•~

It all started a month ago.

Aleksander was at another of the king's balls, circulating among the generals of the First Army, trying to win their favor and consent to a slight modification of their plans. For his and Grishas' benefit, of course.

He would never have guessed that a conversation with General Petrova, the king's irritating, faithful soldier, would bring him more than a headache. It was usually with him that the Darkling had his greatest disputes during war councils.

However, while the general caused him the most trouble of all in the king's court, he was one of the few who respected the Darkling not for his powers, which instilled fear among other soldiers, but for the sake of his tactical, sound thinking.

Never in his life would Aleksander have thought that General Petrova's daughter would be a faithful doppelgänger of his long-dead beloved.

He was stunned as soon as he saw you enter the room.

Anywhere, even on his deathbed, he would have recognised that mischievous twinkle in your eyes whenever you were given full attention. You were a vision. Apparition. A fairy tale that was etched forever in his memory.

And he may have lived many lives, met millions of ordinary people and thousands of Grishas, but this face, the face of his loved one, whom he only met in his sweet dreams and darkest nightmares, had never ever flashed a second of his hundreds-year life. There were no humans even close to your beauty...

And then, after hundreds of years of sorrow, pain, and grief, he saw you again. He was again enchanted by your mesmerising eyes, your sweet, mischievous smile, your tempting lips... He let himself be lost for a while in the view of his beloved before questions started to cross his mind.

How? When? Who is she? From where? Could it really be you? Hundreds of years in pain, only for you to walk casually one day to one of the balls of a king whose ancestor killed you?

Aleksander didn't even notice when you approached him and General Petrova. But YOUR voice, his Y/N's voice, definitely brought him back into the world. Like a strong, vicious slap.

"Father. It was definitely too long." Aleksander almost broke down there. Being so close to someone who looked like you, hearing your voice again in REALITY, smelling the perfume so damn well know to him - the same one which made him lose his mind ages ago for you...

"General Kirigan. My daughter, Y/N. Y/N. General Kirigan, commander of the Second Army." your careful gaze finally met his. And Aleksander was gone.

Saints save him… even those bloody, fucking eyes he would die for were the same….

"It's a pleasure to meet you, General Kirigan." Aleksander couldn't do anything else but reach for your hand and kiss it—something he'd also dreamed of a thousand times, but in his dreams you only used his true, real name. "Your fame extends to the farthest reaches of Ravka. I am glad to see the legendary Darkling with my own eyes." Aleksander shivered as his title spilled out of your mouth. Not with mockery or insult or fear, but flatteringly, strongly… He had to control himself. It wasn't his Y/N… unless…

"I think these aren't very… flattering stories."

"You'd be surprised, General…" Aleksander could feel himself melting under her attentive gaze. The number of long-buried emotions overwhelmed him. And he himself felt his long-forgotten, dead, cold heart come to life again under each of your charming smiles, warm tone of voice, and enticing looks.

Now that he had had the opportunity to look at her more closely, he noticed all the (perfectly familiar) small details.

The way your hair was styled—so that a few strands stand out from your perfectly styled hairstyle, no long earrings, only small pearls that your hair would be harder to get into, delicate jewellery, not flashy like most women's, jewellery that instead of testifying to your wealth emphasised your beauty.

You seemed so familiar to him…

"Do you dance, General?" your question snapped him out of his mind about HIS Y/N.

He didn't dance on such occasions. Never. But he would be damned if he didn't try to find out how far your resemblance to his Y/N goes.

"If you wish, Lady Petrova." he replied with a charming smile, reverting to his image of a confident general of the Second Army.

"Please..." she grabbed his hand. The touch of her delicate skin against his rough made him shiver uncontrollably. He was putty in your hands... but he would be cursed if he let go, if he loses again the one thing that holds him firmly in this world. "Call me Y/N."

"Y/N." he mumbled, leading her to the dance floor. He gripped her securely around the waist, pulling her close enough to be considered appropriate. "I'm dying to see how this one's ends."

"Not only you… general." you peeked at him over those beautifully painted eyelids, biting your lips lightly. Reincarnation, doppelgänger, or real you, you always had to tease him, you always challenged him. And he was more than willing to play that game with you again… even if he wasn't holding his Y/N in his arms.

"Please..." he turned you around to pull you back to his chest. He smiled, remembering how those Y/E/C irises were the only thing that mattered to him hundreds of years ago… he marveled at how they still enchanted him. And having you in his arms again, so close he could smell your scent again… it made him dizzy. "Call me Aleksander." he whispered into your ear, getting close enough not to touch you but to feel the warmth of your cheek against his.

Was it wise to tell you his name? Absolutely not. Did he regret giving himself up to this moment? The answer came to him after a few seconds.

"Aleksander..." your soft whisper made him shiver. The old memories, the ones he tried to bury in his mind, the ones that were both sweetly blissful and devastating, came back to him. Foolish hope rose in him the moment your brow furrowed as if you, too, recognized the significance of what had just happened.

If he'd had any doubts before, he definitely knew now... he was cursed. And he didn't care enough to break this spell you put on him.

~•♤♤♤•~

"Y/N! Rise and shine, you lazy ass!" you groaned, covering your head with a pillow.

"Go away demon. It's too early for anything." you mumbled, snuggling into my comfy bed. You snorted in surprise when suddenly your friend threw herself on your bed and brutally tore the pillow off your head, laughing like a madwoman. "Y/F/N!"

"What have you been dreaming about?" she asked with a sly smile.

"About nothing." you muttered as you got out of bed and walked over to your closet to pick out your outfit for today.

"Yes? Is that why I found you grinning like a psychopath in love and mumbling someone's name? Is there some poor guy you finally like? Who could it be? A soldier? Maybe a nobleman?" you huffed in amusement as you walked out from the wardrobe.

"I haven't gone crazy yet. The world will burn before I voluntarily muzzle myself with marriage."

"Doesn't change the fact that someone caught your eye, does it?" she inquired with a curious smirk.

"Let's go, you hopeless romantic. I believe you dragged me out of bed over that very exciting tea time with the queen." you sighed, knowing full well that this meeting would give you a terrible headache.

"We're going to suffer together, sweetie. But cheer up. Genya will be there. You've liked her company lately, haven't you?"

"She's too good for these royal assholes." you replied, taking her arm and walking out of your room towards the palace gardens.

During that month, you quickly fit into the role you had to play at court. And thanks to your numerous travels, you managed to win enough favour with the queen to become a permanent member of her "group of snobbish noblewomen". You also met Genya, Grisha, an angel among the palace demons who was rather unpopular at court… well, at least not when the queen didn't need her Grisha's skills.

The meeting with the queen dragged on as usual, you couldn't help but wander your mind to your today's dream interrupted by Y/F/N.

"Aleksander!" you laughed, punching him lightly in the chest. "Stop teasing me."

"I don't do anything, milaya." he replied smiling innocently which made you snort. You crossed your arms and gave him a meaningful look.

You were in the little library at his house. (By the way, it's a miracle that he and Baghra found a place for their books in such a tiny hut.) You tried to get to one of the books on the upper shelves, but Aleks had other plans. He stood in front of you, and every time you stood on tiptoe to reach the book, he took the opportunity to grab your waist and pull you into a kiss.

"You do not?" you asked, trying to get to the book, but Aleksander caught your lips in a kiss again. "Aleksander!" you huffed, punching him in the chest with a laugh. "Your mother will kill me if I don't at least start reading this book." you complained, laughing at the smug man. He was so childish sometimes... You squealed as Aleksander suddenly grabbed your waist and pulled you close, burying his nose in your hair.

"I am more than strong enough to protect moya milaya from my bloodthirsty mother." he whispered, placing a tender kiss on your temple.

"Aleksander." you moaned as he moved his lips to your neck. You ran your hand through his hair, giving in to the feeling for a moment, until you remembered what you were supposed to do today. "How about a compromise?"you asked, taking his attention away from your neck for a moment.

"A compromise? And how do you want to negotiate your freedom, lapushka?"

"I'm not blind. I see you're clingier than usual today. Of course you won't let me out of your arms, which I can't really say I'm complaining about… But since I'm about to spend the rest of the day on your lap or in your arms, then you could at least read me the book Baghra told me to learn by heart." he was thinking, rubbing his nose against yours.

"I think I can accept it." you squealed in surprise as he picked you up bridal style, lifting you up so you could reach the book you needed. "But I reserve the right to give you some breaks. As your beloved I've got to make sure my little tribrid doesn't overwork herself." you giggled, making his smile of satisfaction only grow wider.

"What a good and caring lover you are, Aleksander." you teased, knowing full well what the study breaks were for… or rather, for whom.

"Have you ever doubted it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, the sparkle of amusement in his dark eyes only made your mood more up. You loved seeing him so happy, carefree.

"No. Never." you whispered, kissing him with all your love and tenderness…

Such nonsense dreams have plagued you almost every time since you met the general. Visions of his younger self and yours, as if the two of you lived together hundreds of years ago. It also didn't help your plan that, for some strange reason, you felt this... attraction, this desire to be close to him.

You didn't know where your sudden fondness for the Darkling came from, but one thing was certain. You had to get rid of it. And that's before your father presents the king with plans to permanently disband the Second Army and return all the Grishas to the slave system. You couldn't give in to some stupid feeling towards their general... not when everything you and your father had worked for was coming to an end.

"Lady Petrova. You're surprisingly quiet today." the queen has distracted you from the thoughts that have plagued you for weeks. You put on your learned, polite smile.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty. I'm not feeling well today. I think I have a slight migraine, but it should pass soon, Your Highness."

"You look paler than usual… Genya, lady Y/F/N. Take lady Y/N to the healers." you had to do your best to keep the frown from appearing on your face. This old witch…

"Your Grace." instead, you bowed to the queen and walked away with the two women at your side. You didn't speak to Genya until you were sure you were out of earshot of anyone other than the three of you. "I'm fine, Genya. I just had to get out of there."

"Then I should thank you for saving me from there too." she replied with a smile as tired as yours. "But the queen was right. You looked a little pale earlier. Are you sure everything's okay? I can improve your appearance and cover up those little dark circles under your eyes if you want."

"No need, sweetheart. But if you somehow have power over dreams, it would be really helpful." you joked, knowing full well that Grisha are incapable of entering other people's dreams… though you doubted it after the general's face haunted you at night in those strange dreams.

"It would be great to be able to do that."

"Anyway, thank you, Genya. You can hide somewhere in the palace. You deserve some time off." the woman nodded to you and headed towards the Grand Palace, leaving you and Y/F/N alone in the gardens.

"Okay, what's the matter? What are you dreaming about that you can't sleep? And why are you hanging around Grishas and Darkling lately? You want to settle him down or something?" your friend asked annoyed. You looked around, making sure you two were still alone.

"I'm not going to settle him down. My father wanted me to take care of our strong, dark general. After all, what's the best way to steer a man who doesn't care about anyone but his people, than an affair with a pretty, nobel woman?" you asked with a cunning smile.

You preferred to keep your strange dreams to yourself… at least until you were sure it was just a stupid figment of your imagination and growing teenage crush on a dark general.

"I don't quite understand… so what exactly are you doing with him?" she asked, growing suspicious as you headed towards the Little Palace.

"It's just a game. I charm him with my beauty, spend time with him, and so on, which makes him less interested in the war, and I don't have to put up with my father's complaining about me finally getting married. I serve both Ravka and my own interests. Isn't it wonderful?"

"You'll get burned. Be careful with him. He's a Darkling. If he finds out…" she warned you, slightly scared. You snorted, shaking your head. You looked around one more time before whispering conspiratorially to her.

"Then what will he do to me? It's in his interest to keep our little affair as a secret, the dignity of a man and all that crap won't let him seek revenge openly - he'll only embarrass himself even more. I'm perfectly safe." you replied confidently as you left the gardens. You smiled. According to your plan, the general should leave his palace right now to meet the council. It was your job to make sure he didn't get there… well, at least not for the most part.

"If you say so… But you have to admit, even you, that he's hot."

"That's true... which only makes it more interesting..." you saw Kirigan coming out of the Little Palace with one of his loyal dogs by his side... Ivan or the other, you couldn't remember. You smiled slyly, sensing a good opportunity. "Excuse me."

You didn't waste any time. You immediately approached the general, inwardly triumphant with the smile he sent you as soon as he saw you… the grimace on his companion's face was also the reason for your good mood.

"Lady Petrova."

"General Kirigan. So you do occasionally leave the Little Palace."

"Indeed it happens sometimes." he smiles back at your teasing, keeping his distracting dark eyes on you.

"Then I can't pass up this opportunity to take you anywhere other than the path leading to the Grand Palace or the gardens. It's a beautiful day for a ride, don't you think? Perhaps you could accompany me?"

"Actually…"

"It's a wonderful idea. Ivan, could you get our horses ready?" the general interrupted his Girsha. You lowered your head, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling victoriously. As Ivan passed you, you stepped closer to the general and turned your careful gaze back to him.

"He doesn't like me very much, does he?" you asked, catching the arm he offered you as you two walked to the stables together. "Your gruff companion." you added seeing his confused look.

The general snorted, placing his hand over yours, which made you shiver uncontrollably. You internally chastised yourself for such a… pathetic reaction to his little touch.

"Ivan is… specific." he finally replied making you chuckle.

"I saw the look he gave me when I took you away from him, like I was stealing his favorite cuddly toy." Kirigan snorted, which made you smile. You felt how your cheeks redden involuntarily at the sound of his laughter. "You don't have to always defend your people at all costs, General. Well, at least not in such a case." you replied with a smirk.

"Ivan is a good soldier and comrade… he can be funny once you get to know him."

"Then I guess you find volcra hilarious too."

"And maybe one or two of the queen's nobles." you gave him an offended look, placing your hand over your heart in a hurt gesture.

"Ouch. That's good that my company at least gives you some fun. It must be really hard to always be that grave, grumpy, dark general."

"Surely it can be lonely sometimes." his thoughtful, sombre statement ruined the fun atmosphere between you two.

For a brief moment, you could see the familiar twinkle of grief in his eyes before he hid it behind his mask of indifference. You knew that feeling. Especially after being transferred to different courts so many times. You had to master your emotions to perfection… especially the feeling of loneliness that was getting worse every day.

"Well, that's good that I have enough time to play a foolish, wayward, snobbish noble around you… maybe you won't feel so lonely, anymore." you joked, not knowing if you were saying it out of a duty to get close to him or from the depths of your completely lost and confused heart, which always acted like that near him.

"You're not the worst noblewoman I've ever met." the amused note returned to his voice, as did the twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

"Maybe you just didn't know me good enough?" you asked, stopping by the stables and letting go of his arm.

"Maybe..." he replied thoughtfully, not letting go of your hand.

You turned back to him. Your gaze lingered on your joined hands for a moment, until you shifted your confused gaze to him.

The moment your eyes met his, any questions you wanted to ask him escaped your mind. You could only stare blankly into his eyes. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you flashed an image of the younger Aleksander you dreamed of... the exact same one who was giving you an affectionate look like the general was doing now.

"Aleksander." you whispered, not even realising when the idea of saying his name popped into your head.

You were besotted, too mesmerised by the dark irises that stared at you like some saint, like you were all he ever wanted to look at for the rest of his life, to think of anything other than getting closer to him.

And the worst of it all was that you had no idea how you knew the smell of his cologne and why it reminded you of home, of safety. Or why he seemed so familiar to you…

"Yes, milaya?" you trembled. You knew he felt it; you knew he saw how you reacted to the nickname his younger version gives you every night in your dreams… and although it reminded you of something only a close person could say to their beloved, for the hell you didn't know what it meant or how he knew about it. But before you could answer something (or take the one little step that lasted between you and him to feel his lips on yours), Ivan arrived with your horses. "Thank you, Ivan." the general cleared his throat. You could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn't happy about being interrupted either.

"General. Let me remind you that in two hours…"

"Postpone all my appointments. I'll be unavailable." you couldn't help but send Ivan a victorious smile from behind Kirigan's shoulder, which made heartrender wince. Aleksander turned to glance at you, and you gave him a nice, polite smile, making sure the flash of malice disappeared from your eyes. The man shifted his confused looks to Ivan. "I'll be back tonight. Lady Petrova needs an escort."

"Of course, General, have a nice trip."

"Thank you, Ivan."

You gave Grisha a fleeting glance and malicious smile before you and Aleksander left the palace grounds. Ivan has tried to stop the general from joining you more than once this month... he has failed miserably each time. Seeing Grisha grumpier than usual was another advantage of your quest... besides being with Aleksander.

"Wanna race?!" you shouted, not giving him time to answer as you galloped your horse along, laughing as the general chased after you.

~•♤♤♤•~

"Forgotten fountain in the middle of the forest? I didn't think you knew such romantic places, general." you said with a teasing smile as you dismounted from your horses.

"You find it romantic?" he asked, throwing an amused glance over his shoulder as he tossed out the branches in the fountain. You smiled, internally laughing at how the great general commanding the entire Second Army was preparing the atmosphere for your pseudo date.

"Oh, don't tease me. You know what I meant. It's amazing that with your work schedule you have time to wander around and find places like this."

"You do realize I have free time sometimes, right?"

"Rearranging figures on a war table is no leisure time, General." Kirigan snorted, shaking his head in amusement. You smiled as you walked over to the fountain to stand next to him. Only then did you see what was so amazing about her that the general brought you here. It was dedicated to the Black Heretic. "Wait… that's your ancestor's story, isn't it?"

"You know it just from those old pictures?" he asked, apparently impressed with your knowledge, to which you snorted indignantly.

"Of course. Every child in Ravka know his story... well, or at least they should. To be honest, I'm not sure how ignorant the other nobles are, but I hope they're not that bad after all. But I'm guessing you didn't bring me here for a history lesson, did you?"

"When I was a boy, I used to run away and hide here once I realised I was the descendant of the most hated Grisha in Ravka. I've come here to throw a coin and make a wish in the fountain that I could be anyone else."

"A dangerous wish." I murmured as I looked at the pictures on the fountain to avoid his scrutinising gaze. "You never know what fate may befall you. It may turn out that things weren't so bad after all." I replied, remembering all the stories of noblewomen I had the opportunity to know... not all of them lived wonderful, fairy-tale lives. At least not the ones with powdered bruises.

"I devoted my life to undoing the greatest sin of my forbear. But I never seen this as a solution. Only as a reminder of the problem. They always need someone to blame."

"Every story needs a villain." you replied, sitting on the edge of the fountain, facing the general. "Sometimes it happens that there are several of them in one, if we look at the matter from the perspective of someone else. So forgive me if I say that I don't consider your ancestor to be evil incarnate."

"Why wouldn't you?" he asked curiously, walking over to you and sitting across from you.

"Every coin has two sides. Maybe he created a fold; maybe he wanted more power, but no one ever told it from his side. Maybe he wasn't the only villain in this story. Also, I don't believe in a golden hero and a vicious villain fighting doggedly against each other. There are no pure black or white people; we are all grey in our own way." you said, dipping your hand in the water, playing with it, and making small waves with your hand movements.

You glanced at the general, noticing that he was closely watching as you played with the water. You furrowed your brow, not knowing what so interesting he sees in this childish behaviour.

"And how gray are you?" his question snapped you out of your thoughts. You shrugged, still running your fingers through the water.

"I think I still have a long way to go to find out."

"What if I already know?" you frowned as you looked at him, which turned out to be your worst mistake. His dark eyes were to be your undoing…

You felt it again. This need to be close to him, this bond between you and him that was formed from the moment your eyes met in the ballroom a month ago. You were supposed to be his undoing, the downfall of the great, black general... so far, he's been the one who's been messing with your mind effectively, making you doubt everything your father ever taught you about your superiority over the Grishas. And you played the role Kirigan expected of you, like a foolish, naive girl.

"And how would you know that?" you whispered, cursing yourself for the obvious weakness in your voice.

Kirigan placed his hand on yours, the one you used to lean on at the fountain. His touch sent that weird feeling into your chest and made you shiver uncontrollably again. You were losing control… and the worst part was that you didn't mind at all.

"I feel like I've known you and waited for you my whole life. As if you were long lost part of me, which finally came back." you couldn't get rid of that terrible feeling of déjà vu that came over you after his words.

Somewhere in the back of your mind and deep in your heart, you had the feeling—no, you were SURE—that you had been in this situation before. That he once held your hand, telling you that you were destined to be together and that the stars, fate, destiny, saints, gods, or whoever was watching over you were responsible for bringing your souls together.

But it was impossible. You didn't know him before, you couldn't. You've never been to the king's palace until now…

However, everything ceased to matter the moment he leaned in, crossing the short distance between you and catching your lips in a kiss.

You gasped in surprise, your only warning being his tighter grip on your hand, which you only noticed after his soft lips gently pressed against yours. However, you had the sense to return his kiss, deepening it just as you felt Aleksander about to pull away from you.

He grabbed your waist tightly with one arm, pulling you to him, but he never let go of his firm grip on your hand.

You groaned, sinking into the so damn familiar closeness of his body against yours, taking in every ounce of his warmth and scent. But it was his gentle biting on your bottom lip that made you forget anything other than his lips on yours and let yourself get completely lost in the moment. You took your hand out of the water, grabbing the back of his head to get as close to him as possible, when suddenly a huge wave of cold, chilly water splashed you.

You gasped, breaking away from Kirigan. You sighed as cool water dripped from your hair onto your already-soaked dress that was sticking to your skin. You shifted your confused gaze to the equally wet man in front of you, who stared at you with an incomprehensible, fascinated twinkle in his eye.

"What have just happened?" you gasped, glancing at the now empty fountain.

"Are you asking about our kiss or the fact that you just demonstrated tidemaker's abilities?"

"What? No. I can't be Grisha. I…"

"Have you ever been tested, milaya?" he asked softly, so calmly he almost managed to calm your frantically beating heart. But you couldn't shake the feeling of panic rising within you. All plans would go to hell if you turned out to be… one of THEM.

"You know perfectly well what it is like among the nobles. They would rather kill or throw away a child with such powers." you replied, marvelling at how you managed to sound cold and emotionless despite your growing fear.

Kirigan frowned, obviously dissatisfied with your ability to cover up your emotions. What you didn't know was that your eyes betrayed all your emotions to him. He'd stared at them for so long that it would be impossible for him now not to be able to read your emotions.

"Well… it's always better to know, isn't it?" you stared at him for a moment before you nodded uncertainly, swallowing nervously. You couldn't be Grisha. That… whatever happened, it couldn't be it. "May I?" he made sure, pointing to the sleeve of your dress. You nodded silently.

For a moment, the world stops. It's just you and the general, who, with unusual delicacy for him, rolls up the sleeve of your wet dress and uses his sharp-pointed ring to cut your skin.

You're both shocked and oddly excited to see the water gushing out and the hot fire coming from where he cut your skin. Suddenly, a wind rises around you, drying you both and blowing some of the leaves off the trees into the empty fountain. You freeze, feeling the dormant power coursing through your veins, which the general's touch awakens with incredible ease.

It's like he's bringing to life a version of yourself you don't know...

"You are a Grisha. Etherealki Tribrid to be precise." he says, breaking the silence between you. You raise your confused gaze back to him, noticing that he's still studying your face. Weighing, evaluating, expecting something, and having hope so clearly written in his dark eyes that for a moment you are at a loss for words.

"You… you don't seem surprised." you manage to get out of you. You are terrified of your weakness right now. But with the general staring at you with such... tenderness and longing, you're not sure which of you has put your heart in more danger. You just don't know what caused this sudden, overt display of affection for you.

"I felt your power. Only someone special could carry such a huge amount of energy. You and I are going to change the world, Y/N."

"But… I can't… no one can know about this. Please, Aleksander." you pleaded in a panic, gripping his hand tightly. "Promise me that this will stay between us. If my father finds out about this… if the court finds out… Please, Aleksander." the man was staring at you. Apparently, the prospect of having a tribrid in his army was too tempting for him to just forget what had happened here. You had to convince him otherwise. "Wouldn't it be better if it stayed between us? You could train me yourself. Secretly teach me how to use… this. Wouldn't it be better to have a secret weapon? Someone who can be summoned to the battlefield if needed and used as an element of surprise?"

"I don't want to use you." he growled, wrinkling his nose as he realized how sharp his words had come out. "I want you to be my equal, Y/N. But fine. We'll keep everything that happened here to ourselves. You'll come to my office every night so we can train."

"Every night? You want to cause a scandal, General?" you ask, regaining your ability to joke and banter.

For now, you hide all your doubts, fear and greyness that your life will change irreversibly in the back of your head. You allow yourself to get lost in the general's eyes for a while before returning to real life… before you have to decide what to do about the "Grishas case", knowing your newfound abilities now.

"Do you care?" you know what he's asking you, but he doesn't know how many different meanings his question has for you. And you're afraid that once he finds out about your plan against him and against his people, he'll stop looking at you with that... adoration in his eyes. Because, for some strange reason, you want him to look at you like that.

"No…" you replied, moving your gaze between his mouth and eyes. "I guess not."

~•♤♤♤•~

"I can't believe it! How did you know that was my favorite dish?!" I ask him after another grueling session of our training as he returns with a dinner brought to his door by servants.

"I have my ways." he responds, laughing as you practically pounce on the food ravenously. You didn't realize that using Grisha's powers was so… exhausting.

"Just like my allergy to the awful pollen that's out now, what particular, specific type of tea do I like, and what books do I prefer to read? What's next? Just hand me my favourite flowers and tell me it's pure case?" you laugh over your plate, glancing at him briefly. The general blushes slightly and clears his throat awkwardly. "Oh, Saints, you do have flowers for me, don't you?" you asked as a little smirk started to form on your face.

"It seems to you, vain little tribrid." you tremble at his words, and that sick feeling of deja vu follows you every time his damn dark irises pierce your soul. If he wanted you to go crazy, you're sure he was well on his way to making it happen.

Aleksander, on the other hand, stared longingly at you, searching for any trace of recognition in your eyes. How many times in those training sessions has he wished your memories of living with him would come back to you? He didn't know. Ever since he made sure you displayed the powers of virtually all ethereals, he's spent countless sleepless nights in his bed dreaming of the moment you'll whisper that damn nickname you love for him.

But nothing like that was coming.

Instead, he had to fight this urge to kiss you to death, to hold you forever in his safe arms where nothing could hurt you. He had to fight his longing for your slightest touch, your tender gaze, and the unconditional love you had. And with each passing day, he cursed himself for his inability to remember the life you two had spent together.

He was desperate enough to talk to his mother about it. He went to her as soon as he was sure it was really you to brag about his hunch and victory over her judgement. And complain about your innate ability to spite him and not remember him when he worked so hard to make it happen.

"If it's not her, then explain to me how she's already ruining all my plans and is getting on my nerves?" he asked, raising an inquiring eyebrow at Baghra.

"Just because you have a natural bad luck with women doesn't mean Y/N is back from the dead." she replied ironically, not even looking up at him.

"It is her. And when I prove it, forget about seeing her, because I won't let you."

"I'm not a spoiled child, General." you laugh back, snapping him out of his thoughts as cool water hits his chest. He raises an eyebrow at you, failing to keep an amused smile from spreading across his lips.

Saints, how he wants to kiss that malicious smirk off your alluring lips. But he has to be careful with you. He has to control himself. He can't lose you or scare you away now, not when he's so close to getting HIS Y/N back.

"You're definitely acting like one." he replies teasingly as he takes out the flowers hidden behind his back and hands them to you.

You sigh in shock before another heart-melting smile appears on your lips. You dip your nose in the flowers, and Aleksander tries to remember this moment forever. The silent hope that you will remember one of the many times he gave you those special flowers you loved bursts into unwillingness in his chest.

"Please, as if you don't like to spoil me…" you just reply teasingly, reminding him how fate was never on his side. It would be impossible for him to just get you back like that.

"I'd throw all the jewels in the world at your feet just to see that beautiful, wide smile spread across your lips." you tremble under his heavy, intent gaze, feeling him ignite that familiar, strange fire inside you, calling for him.

The answer to his confession just slipped out of your mouth as a whisper.

"You don't need jewels to make me smile like a fool in love."

Aleksander flinched as he recognised the words you said to him—the exact same words you used in response to his confession hundreds of years ago. You liked torturing him with it. Remind him of stolen moments with you in the woods, away from the king's men, his mother, and other envious people too scared of your abilities to see you as anything more than a dangerous monster. You loved throwing him into the past, while you stuck hard to what was happening now. At times like this, he promised himself that once he had you back, he would never let you go. He won't be that weak to let someone take you from him again.

You, in turn, watched him bewildered as another vision/memory flashed before your eyes. His warm lips on your wind-cold skin, his whispered promises in your ear as he held you close to him, his shadows dancing around you, shielding anyone from seeing you two.

That memory revived in your mind as the general's lips met yours.

Kissing him, enjoying the firm grip around your waist, you had those strange visions again. You were beginning to wonder if the general had seen through your cunning plan and decided to punish you by driving you crazy with these supposed memories.

But you didn't want to do anything about it. Not when he felt so good against you.

You kiss him greedily, tangling your hands in his hair and pulling him closer to you. He picks you up, placing you on his war table. Your hands travel up his shoulders to the buttons of his kefta and his to the strings of your corset at the back of your dress...

Just then, a loud knock interrupts you.

You laugh in disbelief that they're bothering you again. Aleksander smiles, biting his lip as he looks at you with amusement in his eyes. How he missed your sincere, carefree laugh.

"Go see what it is." you whisper to him as you slide off the table to stand on your own feet. Aleksander smirks mischievously and leans in to steal a kiss from you. You giggle as you push him away and whisper a softly "go".

You blush, feeling like a teenager caught kissing a boy. And you have a very strange feeling that this has happened before...

"Aleksander!" you squeal, laughing as quietly as you can. "Someone will see us!" you reprimand him by tapping him lightly in the chest.

"Only if you keep being so loud. Besides, how can you blame me for wanting to kiss my beautiful beloved after weeks apart?"

"Your secret beloved I would like to point out. Baghra and my parents will kill us if they find us here." you remind him, only smiling wider as his grip tightens around your waist.

"They'll have to go through my shadows first… that gives us enough time to escape."

"Well, well, what a cunning boyfriend I have. I like that plan of yours." I whisper into his lips, teasing him, as I move away each time he wants to kiss me.

"Y/N?" Aleksander's whisper and his gentle grip on my shoulder pulls me out of my memories. "Everything's all right?" he looks at you with concern in his eyes and something else, something like longing mixed with hope. You have no idea what it could be.

NO. I have strange visions of you where you love and need me more than anything in this world. I have dreams of a reality where it's just us, too busy loving ourselves to see anything else or care about all the problems in the world. And I have a feeling that I'm going to go crazy if you once again arouse in me that feeling of familiarity and fire that for some unknown reason cries out desperately for your slightest touch and affection. - you think.

"I'm fine, just thought of something. What did Ivan want from you?" I ask with a gentle smile.

"I have to go now. The First Army soldiers and my Grishas have reportedly gotten into some kind of fight. I need to investigate it."

You freeze, knowing full well what's going on. Your and your father's plan. Kirigan is about to get into the middle of a fight caused by the people of the first army (actually hired by your father's thugs). A fight with a general defending his people in the main role will start, which your father and the king are supposed to come across by "pure accident". You were supposed to let him get into your trap.

"I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't worry, it's probably some stupid skirmish." he assures you, but you know better. You know that once he goes there, he will be banished at best for suspicion of treason and wanting to start a rebellion - rumours your father is now spreading to the king.

Your brain screams for you to let it go. You were Grisha, but people like you would never accept you; you knew that. And the nobles would kick you out if they found out about your powers; it was safer for you to get rid of the general, the only person who knew about your abilities.

But your stupid heart already bled at the thought of putting Aleksander in danger and being the cause of his downfall—the thing you were supposed to be so proud of only a few months ago.

"Wait!" you scream, reaching for his hand before he steps away from you. You lost. You lost the war with the devil and sold him your heart and the soul he had anyway, since he kissed you at the fountain, since he started appearing in your dreams as a strange vision of an alternate world where you live with him as his. A vision you desperately wanted to come true. "Please don't go."

"Why?" he asks, placing his hands gently on your shoulders.

"I... you can't... trap... my father... and king... they..." you hyperventilate, tears welling up in your eyes uncontrollably, and an indescribably great feeling of unease seizes you, making it a huge challenge to take even the slightest breath.

Suddenly, all you hear is a buzzing in your ears. Slowly, your knees weaken, and you fall straight into the waiting arms of Aleksander, who looks like he's screaming something. You are enveloped in blissful darkness.

But before you lose your consciousness one thought runs through your mind.

What the hell did I did?

~•♤♤♤•~

You opened your eyes. It was dawn. You were in a clearing near some castle ruins. There were a lot of soldiers around you.

You slowly got up on your elbows and lifted yourself off the ground. You tried to push your way through the crowd of soldiers, but as soon as your arm was about to touch one of them, you felt yourself walking through it. You froze in place.

The sound of Aleksander's voice snapped you out of your daze. You walked forward, passing through the soldiers as you reached the stairs of the palace ruins.

It was a younger version of him, exactly the one you saw in your dreams. But this time it wasn't a pleasant dream. The love in his eyes was replaced by pure fear and fury.

You turned to where he was staring and gasped as you spotted a beaten, bloodied version of yourself held by one of the king's soldiers.

"Surrender. Or your girl will die." Aleksander stared at the younger version of you, trying to make eye contact with you, making sure you were still holding on to your life for him, despite the gruesome state you were in. "This one was brave. She was willing to die than reveal your hiding place. Fortunately, we got another, weaker one. Now, you better hurry before that bitch bleeds to death."

Tears began to form in Aleksander's eyes. He raised his trembling hands in surrender. You lifted your head with difficulty, watching him.

Then all hell broke loose. You set a soldier on fire and started a great fire. You tried to approach Aleksander and he came to you, but the soldiers around you were faster. One of them caught you; the rest kept Aleksander, who was struggling with all his strength, from rushing to your rescue and summoning his shadows. The soldier drew his dagger.

Your eyes and Aleksander's did not separate for a moment. Desperation and fear were reflected in his eyes, which met your gaze full of sadness and fear for his life.

"Aleksander, I love you-AGH!" you tell him when a soldier pierces your heart with a dagger in front of your beloved.

"Y/N!" Aleksander screams, tears in his eyes obscuring his vision at your last breath and your last look at him. He is overcome with rage, grief, and frustration so great that he can do nothing but scream.

His scream proves deadly. Deadly for his enemies.

His grief, desperation, and tremendous pain piercing his heart and seeing his beloved Y/N die raised within him a power so great that it covered the world in the darkness of his shadow.

And so the fold is born.

And Aleksander remains utterly alone in his darkness.

~•♤♤♤•~

You jump out of bed, screaming. You just saw yourself die... but it wasn't you, was it? It's just your twisted imagination. Aleksander couldn't... couldn't create the fold. The Black Heretic lived hundreds of years before you; it couldn't be true. It's just your sick imagination. You kept telling yourself.

You looked around the room, recognising that you were in the general's bedroom. You changed out of his black shirt, which you don't know who put you in, and left the bedroom in a hurry. You didn't know how Aleksander would treat you after he found out about your father's plan, and he certainly did after your panic attack in his war room. You also didn't want to risk getting caught in the general's chamber.

You were about to leave Aleksander's chamber, but someone's hand grabbed your arm tightly and covered your mouth. You tried to wriggle out of his attacker's grip, but in vain. Fortunately, the stranger let you go as soon as you entered one of the secret passages of the Little Palace.

You turned around, freezing as you came face to face with the woman haunting your dreams…

"Who are you?" you whispered in horror, recognizing the woman as the light from her torch illuminated her face.

"It doesn't matter. You need to get out of here as soon as possible." she grabbed your hand again in a strong, bruising grip, but this time you managed to pull away from her.

"Who the hell are you?! Why am I dreaming about you and some Aleksander?! How do I know you, Baghra?!"

"Hush for the saints! We're not far from his room." she tried to silence you, fearing that at any moment you would bring Aleksander back to his chambers here.

"Whose room? General's? What does he have to do with it? What the hell is going on here?!"

"Shut up you stupid girl before he comes here. I'm trying to save you."

"Saved me from what? I don't need a hero, thank you very much. All I want to know is why I'm having these fucking visions about you. Who are you? Why am I having some weird flashbacks about you from hundreds of years ago?" you ask, tired of it all, trying to finally get to the truth, whatever it may be.

"Aleksander was right… it's true. It's really you." she says in shock, eyeing you closely as you use all your powers in anger, summoning both fire, water and a light breeze in the deserted secret passage.

"Aleksander? Which one? Kirigan or some other? Answer me for the love of saints!" you scream at her, feeling like you're about to lose your mind at any moment.

"Child, there is only one Aleksander. My son. Aleksander Morozova. Black Heretic. General Kirigan and many other names he's taken since you died."

"What? What are you talking about? It's impossible, a Black Heretic lived hundreds of years ago… wait. Since I died? What do you mean by since I die?" the vision you just had haunts you again. Your blood, Alexander's screams. Screams of people turned by his grief, anger and rage into volcra as he creates a fold...

"You real name is Y/N…"

"BAGHRA!" Aleksander's furious scream echoes through the deserted corridor. He walks over to me faster than I can blink and stands between me and his supposed mother. "Go away."

"Aleksander..." she begins in a serious tone, but one dark look from the general keeps her silent. Never, not even during their worst quarrels, had he dared to oppose her so openly, so hostilely.

"I said... Go. Away." Baghra looks at you. Half in disappointment, half in fear, knowing full well the reason why her son is ready to use his shadows on her.

She lets go. This time. She knows full well he can't bring back your memories anyway. Or at least she hopes so.

Shee leaves you alone in a dark corridor. Aleksander slowly turns to you and reaches for you, but you pull away before his fingertips even try to touch you. He freezes. He watches you fearfully, afraid of what Baghra might have told you to make you so disgusted by his small touch.

"Don't take a step further. Why do I know you? Why did YOU know me before anything started between us? What the hell is this all about?!"

"Y/N... you need to calm down." he tries to calm you down as he sees you gasping for breath again. He reaches out to touch your cheek tenderly but you jump away from him. The fire begins to slowly circulate around your hands as you unknowingly summon it.

"DO NOT TOUCH ME! Who are you? Who are you to me? That's true? Are you a Black Heretic? What is going on here?!" you scream, you feel an indescribable power flowing through you that you are unable to control, a flood of emotions floods your mind, and your powers go out of control as a great wind rises and the corridor begins to slowly fill with water. The fire in your hands grows bigger, more alive, more uncontrollable.

"My milaya, please... try to calm down for me." he says, taking a step towards you with his hands up so you can see his every little move, every attempt to touch you.

"What am I?" you whisper, your tears flow freely, the water begins to rise faster and faster, the wind is so great that it blows both his and your hair and his black kefta in all directions, and the living fire from your hands prevents him from approaching you without risk of burning himself. But Aleksander doesn't care.

He wades towards you through the water that comes up to his hips and cups your face with both hands, forcing you to look him in the eyes. As soon as his skin touches yours, everything stops. The wind stops blowing, the fire disappears, and the water stops at a constant level. It is quiet. Eerily silent as you stare at him in a daze, tears dripping from your eyes into the makeshift river you created in the hallway.

"You know who you are. Just reach for it. Please, come back to me, Y/N Y/L/N. Moya milaya, moya lapushka..." he pleads, resting his forehead against yours.

You close your eyes. The flood of vivid memories makes your head hurt, but as soon as all the images are gone from your eyes, you open them to look into those familiar dark irises that pierce through you. And you cry with relief, finally knowing perfectly well how you know him, why you associate him with home, peace, love, unconditional devotion.

"Sasha?" you whisper, afraid you've gone completely insane, that it's all a nasty, twisted figment of your imagination.

And Aleksander sighs with relief hearing that damn diminutive he missed so much.

"It's me. My beloved Y/N. My life. My Light. My tribrid. You are finally here." he takes you in his arms as tears flow freely down your cheeks. You snuggle into him, your nose brushing his neck as you inhale the damn good smell of his perfume. Aleksander buries his nose in your hair, trying to hold back tears as he trembles uncontrollably. He finally had you. After hundreds of years, months of torture where he had you at his fingertips but couldn't touch you properly, you were finally with him. "Eya fyela chi." he whispers in old Ravkan, making you laugh in relief.

"I love you too, Sasha. I promise I'm not going anywhere anymore. Nobody and nothing will take me away from you."

"Brave of you to think I'd let you go anywhere. You stay by my side. Forever. I won't waste such a wonderful gift from the saints, my little flame." he says, kissing your temple.

You shiver for the first time enjoying the familiar feeling of love and warmth that comes with this tender gesture, often repeated by him in the past.

He leaned in, catching your lips in a passionate, long-awaited kiss. And you couldn't do anything other than enjoy the taste of his lips on yours and how you could create new memories with him without the old ones attacking you with every touch he made. You are no longer an intruder in your own body. And the unknown fire calling for him turned into the familiar flame of love.

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mxtantrights · 11 days

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Bounded by blood and shadow (24)

azriel x magic!fem!reader

Cassian watches as the young children of the village run around Azriel. It makes him happy to see his brother so celebrated. He knows that all he’s gone through weighs on him heavily every day. Being here, being with you, helps relieve that pressure. All the anger and guilt that comes from his childhood before he came under the care of Rhys’ mother.

“It’s…nice. To see him like this.” Nesta says to him.

Cassian gives her a smile.

They both watch Azriel pick up one of the children and throw him over his shoulder. The shorter ones jumping up trying to reach, the ones on the taller side full on stretching their arms to get the little boy. Azriel laughs at the efforts.

“He deserves it.” Cassian adds.

“He always has.” Morrigan chimes in.

She tracks how the kids are rough housing him, but are being careful about his wings. They must know a lot about him, she thinks. They know about his wings. And they aren’t scared. They see his shadows and they aren’t scared either. One of the little girls is being chased around by a few of them. Morrigan’s face is laden with a smile.

“I was wondering where the three of you went.”

They all turn around. There’s Amren. She’s standing there in a deep red cloth outfit. It’s hot in Sangri now. It never really reaches cold, even if they are basically an island. Cassian had complained about his leathers making him sweat buckets and ditched them about five minutes into the visit. He was supposed to look formal but he wasn’t about to sweat all over the place.

“We had to see it for ourselves.” Nesta answers.

Amren nods, “Well, we’re about to begin. So if you wouldn’t mind telling the shadow singer to wrap it up.” Cassian catches something in Amren’s tone. A thing he’s never heard from her before. Nerves. She’s nervous to talk to Azriel? That is not a sentence Cassian ever thought he would think. He would never say it out loud either.

And with that Amren is walking away. Back to the palace. Morrigan and Nesta both cut and run, leaving Cassian to tell his brother. He scoffs at their childishness but he bucks up always. He walks slowly, and tries to come off as non-threatening as he can to the children. Azriel sees him coming and puts the little boy down on his feet.

“It’s good to see you brother.” Azriel says.

Then Azriel brings him into a hug. Cassian has almost always been the one to initiate hugs between them. It’s not like Azriel has never done it, it’s just a rare occurrence that usually only happens when one of them almost dies. Cassian smiles and squeezes his brother tighter. With a few claps on the back the two pull away from each other.

“We’re being requested to come inside.” Cassian says.

Azriel sighs, then he looks at the children, “I have to leave now.” There is a loud chorus of boos and awes from them. They all swarm Azriel to give him a hug. Cassian watches in amazement, it’s a sight he truly can’t believe. And then all the children disperse amongst themselves, some back to their houses and others down the road towards the common areas.

“This suits you brother.” Cassian confesses. Azriel smiles at that.

You dismiss the palace assistants from the office. Really you hired them because it was too much work for yourself, but you also really needed more people with you inside the palace to get rid of the bad memories. When it was you just you, Amren, Azriel and the cooks it was still a bit to quiet for your liking. That’s why you went out of your way to look for any village people who needed a job.

But tonight didn’t really need to go off without a hitch. It was more so an informal homecoming.

The blood benders who left for the night court are back home for a couple of days. To visit family, to take a break from training, and to do whatever they please. And Rhys wanted to visit with the inner circle for diplomatic reasons, so he said. You think he has something else up his sleeve but you don’t want to push it. To show his face to your people and show support.

You weren’t too fond of having Elaine here, but you’d have to put up with it. At least for a few hours. Then she could go on her way and you yours.

A knock on the door tells you all you need to know. You told Amren to gather them and send them your way.

“Come in.” You speak.

The door opens and they come waltzing in. Rhysand and Feyre arm in arm, Then Morrigan, Nesta and Cassian, then Elaine. Last to walk through the door is Azriel. You don’t miss the smile he sends your way as he does. And you can’t help the smile you send him back. He shuts the door and walks over to your side.

It’s in this moment you realize that they don’t know you’re married. Azriel hasn’t told them. And It’s pretty much known in the village so it’s not like it would suddenly be a topic of conversation. You highly doubt if they knew they wouldn’t come barging into this room and asking you about it. Here they are, sweet smiles and waiting for you to talk.

“I’m glad all of you made it here. I hope you’ll enjoy your visit.” You greet them.

“I already am. That ale is really good.” Morrigan answers you.

You smile, “It’s becoming great for out economy. We export to Summer and Day now.”

“Well, I’ll be having some later.” Cassian adds.

“Seeing as this is a homecoming for the blood benders I sent three trunks of our favorite wines.” Rhysand says.

“That’s thoughtful of you.” You thank him for the gift.

“I hope you didn’t touch any of my wine, boy.” Amren speaks up.

“Don’t worry, we haven’t touched your things since you left.” Feyre answers her.

Amren makes a face at that, but nods nonetheless.

“And I’m here to propose a new idea to you, empress.” Rhysand speaks again.

“Go on,” you say.

“Since you are graciously lending us your blood benders for the war, I was wondering if you would like some fae.”

It throws you off. It knocks you off balance completely. You lean back on the desk and cross your arms over your chest. You can tell your eyebrows are furrowing, meeting tightly in the middle, based on the tension there. Fae in sangri? Huh. It’s not like the blood benders were sharpening pitchforks and lighting fires because of Azriel and Amren. But more of them? Why? “Is there any particular reason why I would want fae?” You ask him.

Rhysand clears his throat and loses the smirk on his mouth. This isn’t going to be good. Whatever the hell is about tumble out of his mouth is going to be the opposite of good, you assume. Feyre’s hand brushes up and down his upper arm. She’s comforting him. What is he about to say?

“Well it would seem that, uh, after relocating to the night court that one of your blood benders has coupled up with a fae.” Rhysand answers.

“So you want to send fae here to encourage interspecies relationships? I never thought you were the type.” You tease.

Rhysand lets out a forceful laugh, “Well I am sorry about that. But I mean, it goes to show that you and Azriel would be welcome to the night court should he ever want to return.”

The room goes silent. Amren lets out a loud sigh. You look over at Azriel. So that’s what this was really about. You liked having the blood benders return home. You also liked that your diplomatic relationship with Rhysand was becoming more positive. But this right here lets you know that he’s not just thinking of one thing all the time. The fae is used to tactical and political approaches. He wants Azriel back home. What foes it he nigh court without its spy master?

“I’m staying here indefinitely.” Azriel puts quickly.

“And how are you supposed to work? I’ve given you months but we have to figure this out.” Rhysand replies.

“I have figured it out. Effective immediately I am no longer the spy master of the night court.” Azriel answers. Your eyes widen and you turn to him. He looks at you, as serious as he gets, and doesn’t break eye contact. He did tell you that he would have to formally make this decision. But you didn’t think it would be today, you didn’t think it would be right now. You thought he might go home, visit with his family, maybe talk out some sort of deal. You were okay with whatever he wanted, it’s just that this seems to sudden.

“Brother, we can talk about this.” Rhysand says.

You turn back. So does Azriel. You have half a mind to think Elaine would speak up and say that you were taking him away from his family. You look at her. She’s not even looking at you, or anyone really. She’s playing with a bracelet on her arm, gold and with red and orange charms on it. You look back to Rhysand.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I have given every inch of myself in your service, and I don’t need a thank you or a reward for it. But I do not wish to spend my whole life doing that.” Azriel states calmly. Cassian steps forward after that.

“Wait, so are you saying that you’re never coming home?” He asks.

Azriel steps forward to meet his brother face to face. He places his hands on his shoulders.

“I will still visit the night court. I will still hang out with all of you. But, my place is here.” Azriel says.

“It’s what he wants.”

At the sound of her voice, everyone including you turns to Elaine. You are surprised to say the least. She looks up from her bracelet at the group. You watch as she carefully looks all of them over, her eyes seemingly teary. You wonder why.

“I thought you of all people would say the opposite.” Amren says.

“Amren.” Morrigan chides.

“She’s right. I was against the two of them for so long,” Elain says and then she looks at you, “I really apologize for that. And for what I said to you that day. I see it now. I understand what it’s like to be called to someone that isn’t part of your world.”

You nod your head, “Thank you for the apology.”

Azriel places himself back at your side, a bit closer than last time you notice.

“We respect your decision, Az.” Feyre says.

No doubt having to speak for all of them because Cassian and Rhysand don’t necessarily agree with it, but will say that they do for the sake of their friendship with Azriel. You slide just the slightest bit closer to Azriel, your arms brushing together. He leans in closer to you too.

“If you send fae here, you’d have to come and visit them every once in a while.” You say.

“If I send fae here, you would have no use for them.” Rhysand responds.

“I guess that’s why being empress is useful. I could come up with a reason and everyone would go along with it.” You reply.

Rhysand looks at you then, shock on his face for the smallest of moments. You can tell. It disappears as quickly as it came but you saw it. He smiles at you and then bows his head.

Morrigan claps her hands together, “Well I declare this meeting over, seeing as I have more ale to drink and a very short amount of time.”

Amren opens the doors and leads the way out of the office. Feyre, Nesta and Morrigan leave first. Elaine right after them with a small look over her shoulder at you. Which leaves you, Azriel, Rhysand and Cassian in the office.

“I can give you three a moment.” You say, trying to excuse yourself from the two males.

Azriel reaches for your hand with his. He stops you. You turn to face him fully. He looks like he wants to say something but he can’t quite get the words out You knew he wasn’t one to openly talk about his feelings so easily. You don’t want him to regret not telling his brothers how he feels.

Cassian playfully scoffs, “Can’t keep your hands off of her, can you?”

“My wife—“ Azriel starts.

“Your what?!” Cassian’s booming voice sounds.

“I knew it.” Rhysand smirks.

“You didn’t know shit.” Azriel scolds teasingly.

“Oh, but I did. The blood benders that came to the night court spoke about it on the first night.” Rhysand answers.

You wince, completely forgetting that they could say something. It’s not like you swore them to secrecy.

“So why weren’t we invited to the ceremony? I mean, kind of mean if you ask me. I could have been best man or whatever the humans call it.” Cassian jokes.

You look at Azriel, “Maybe we should just tell them.” “No, no. I like the confusion.” He answers you.

“What’s she talking about?” Rhysand asks.

You nudge Azriel with your elbow, and he groans. You turn to the two other males in the room.

“When he drank my blood, in front of all of you. That was it. That’s when, technically, we got married.” You answer.

Cassian and Rhysand stand there in shock, confusion and a secret third thing you can’t put your finger on. You watch as they look between you and Azriel, their eyes darting back and forth. The room is silent for a few moments.

“As soon as we tell Mor, she’ll want to plan a whole wedding for you.” Rhysand states.

“And Feyre would no doubt love to host. Any picks for best man?”

Azriel laughs, “You two are incorrigible.”

Then the two of them look at you.

Rhysand extends his hand out to you, “Welcome to the family.”

You take his hand and shake it, “Thank you.” When the two of you let go, Cassian cuts in between you and engulfs you in a hug. It catches you by surprise but you return the gesture. He lifts you a bit off the ground which makes you laugh. “Finally, someone else in the family who can kick his ass.” Cassian says.

“Untrue.” Azriel.

#acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar fic #azriel imagine #Azriel x reader #azriel fic #blood and shadow

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achaotichuman · 3 months

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Another thing for Elucien, cause that's apparently what my mind has decided to think about, is.

Elain overhearing the IC shit talking Lucien and going fucking insane.

Listen we lacked the standing up for our mate with Cassian, we wanted it, we wanted this man to go insane for his woman and tell Rhysand the fuck off. But he never did. So the people are left craving.

Thing is with Elain and Lucien, Lucien is the one being talked down to, ignored, sidelined, and shit talked about.

So I think what should happen is after some bonding, and learning to think about the future and what it might pertain to her, we should have Elain in a meeting with the IC. Here's how it goes.

Elain is bored. Bored out of her wits end. The meeting drags on forever, the second are dripping by slower than an ice cube melting in snow.

She knows she's only here because her sister wanted to include her. She's only here so as to not upset her sister. Lose-Lose, for everyone involved.

The wall has become less than interesting to look at. The ceiling isn't a place she can stare for the others would look at her strangely, and none of the others she can observe for too long without them snapping for why she's staring.

Bored, bored, bored.

With nothing more to turn to, her mind shifts, and instead of four walls and a roof. She is back in that wonderful open field.

Pollen is around, and trees line the sight, the grass is tall enough to brush her skirts and wildflowers roam freely.

She is as unbound as a butterfly on the breeze. And the air is no longer so potent.

Her eyes are now drawn to one sight only and that is of a banner of red hair. And two mismatched eyes. Dark skin, and a dazzling smile. Elain can't find it in her to look away, but he doesn't seem inclined to turn away his gaze either.

They are close. Close enough to feel the heat of the other, close enough so she can feel his fire lurking under the skin, burning hotter as her hand lifts and brushes the lapel of his jacket.

All of a sudden Elain is back in the four walls and the roof closes her in. She sighs silently and turns her eyes to something of interest. Feyre sitting close to her mate, eyes turned lovingly to his face, never looking away, even as his gaze slides to hers and is filled with a burning, seething passion of lust. It almost disgusts Elain, how every time they look at each other, Feyre looks like her whole world lies in his eyes, and Rhysand just wants to fuck her.

She also supposes it is not her problem. Her sister had chosen the male, even if it wasn't her type of man.

Far from it, Elain had to concede, but she chose not to think too much about that.

Then conversation turned as a familiar name slipped past the lips of the High lord.

"-Lucien Vanserra."

Now Elain sat slightly straighter, a movement that did not go unlocked by the High lords second. Amren narrowed her eyes but was silent. Feyre gave Elain a pitting smile, which Elain found herself wanting to slap off her face.

"We must invite him?" Morrigan asked, her tone snarky and unwanted. Elain's eyes glanced over to her; the blonde slid her gaze to Elain. Morrigan tilted her head like a predator but smiled like prey.

"Yes, we must Morrigan, he is our emissary." Rhysand said.

Emissary, as if he wasn't more than that. Like Elain hadn't heard the stories, hadn't asked about them, or hadn't learned.

Elain felt a deep madness curl in her core. A rage that began to drift to the surface like smoke wafting from a fireplace.

If my mate hadn't gone to the ends of the earth, you wouldn't be alive, Rhysand.

She wanted to say it.

So desperately wanted to say it.

Not yet a cruel voice whispered.

Not yet. Elain murmured back.

"Maybe we should begin to reconsider that." Amren replied smoothly. Elain looked to her, and those eyes that now lacked any power at all.

You're weaker than me now, you serpent, watch your mouth. Elain wished to say.

Not yet.

Rhysand answered her with a cruel, almost mocking tone, mocking in Lucien's direction, "Now why ever is that, Amren?"

"Well, the boy is not necessary for us anymore. Now that the threat of Kosechi is gone. Besides, he'll always wander the world forever, condemned to exile."

Elain turned to Rhysand.

If he says a word against him-

"Perhaps you are right, but the Fox is useful in his ways. And quite entertaining, as soon as we grow bored of him we can toss him away." Rhysand said.

They had the audacity to grin.

Feyre had the fucking audacity to laugh under her breath.

"Repeat."

Her voice snapped through the room like the sound of rope long worn giving out.

"Excuse me?" Rhysand asked, his voice sneering.

"I said, repeat." Elain's teeth were bared, her heart was pounding, her skin was threatening to burst.

"I-" Rhysand laughed, "I do not have to repeat myself-"

"Repeat exactly what you said, Rhysand. Did you or did you not just say that my mate is nothing more than enter-fucking-tainment to you?!" The words spilled from a darkness so deeply entrenched within her that they burned her throat coming out, but she didn't stop the raising of her voice. Nor her feet forcing her to stand, back ram-rod straight. Eyes blazing like never before.

Not even when Hybern had stood over Nesta, prepared to kill her, had she felt such raw, powerful rage.

"Elain, he may be your mate, but be honest he isn't much of a male." Morrigan sneered, Elain snapped her eyes to the blonde. Sitting perfect and poised, looking like a mean doll with her awful scrunched noise and snotty look.

"Go get fucked Morrigan." Elain said, with such a sweet tone that it could have crystalized sugar.

There was a collective gasp, Morrigan's jaw fell, and her hand touched the point above her cleavage.

There was the sound of furniture scraping against the ground, and as Rhysand stood, Elain whirled on him.

The High lord collected darkness at his hands and feet, to anyone they may have run scared and as Rhysand looked down at her, Elain knew that was what he expected her to do.

"Elain that is enou-"

"You! How dare you treat my mate as though as lesser! How dare you deny him like if it weren't for him you wouldn't be dead! You are nothing more than a third of a High lord for the reason that you only prioritize one city above the rest. Whilst my mate works tirelessly day and fucking night to keep several Courts in order!"

Go, the Cauldron said, tell him what is what, beloved one.

"My mate has been nothing but kind and caring and sweet. He does everything you order! He helps this court! If not for him we would have never won the war! If not for him, would Feyre be High lady right now?! Would she have ever made it out alive from Under the Mountain?!"

At the mention of Under the Mountain, Feyre stood and screamed, "You have no idea what went on-"

"Oh but I do, beloved sister!" Elain shouted back, "Do you think me dumb? Do you think me stupid and careless?! I have learned, I have overheard! Gods I have asked! I know that without my mate, you wouldn't be alive! My mate is scarred for helping you! Fucking scarred! Has he not already been scarred enough?!"

"Enough!" Rhysand roared. Darkness pushed in from the four walls.

"It is not enough!" Elain screamed. And the Cauldron did the rest.

Lightning split the sky, drawing shapes in the walls, and the golden glow of the fire bellowed, pushing back the darkness.

And Elain.

Elain began to glow.

Her skin, her hair, her eyes, her very being began to glow.

Her voice was like a raging thunderstorm pouring down. A tiger in a cage lashing at the bars.

There was screaming, someone was crying. Elain didn't care as her eyes were locked in on Rhysand.

"It will never be enough! Until my mate has you begging for his forgiveness! Until I have seen to it that you no longer so much as think a word against him! It will never be enough!"

The power winked out, and like nothing had happened, the glowing stopped, the thunderstorm ceased and the fire went out, leaving them in darkness.

Someone snapped their fingers and the fire returned.

Elain surveyed the damage. Feyre had fallen back into her chair, Morrigan was on the floor, her hair a mess. Amren was standing up and looking terrified. A closer inspection revealed Elain had burned her with a lick of fire across the back of her knuckles.

Cassian was standing in front of Nesta. It was only the eldest Archeron who had not moved from her place beside the door, hands folded gently in her lap, eyes approving.

Elain nodded to her sister, and there was the slightest tilt of the head.

Finish him, Elain. Is what that tilt said.

Elain turned back to Rhysand and licked her lips, throat screaming for cool water.

Elain picked up her skirts and walked closer. Rhysand breathed harshly. Eyes wide and angered.

Fearful.

Elain whispered into the space between them. A world of void and of starlight, "If you ever speak my mates name in a vile manner again, I will not be so kind to you."

She didn't allow them another word as she turned and bowed politely to her eldest sister.

The clicking of her shoes echoed as she left the room quietly.

She heard the screaming of her name, as her youngest sister's mate finally regained his ability to speak.

But by the time the Inner Circle had barrelled out of the meeting room to grab and drag her back in to be punished for her insolence.

She was gone, and the door was left open. Revealing a dark path that led to the city, with no one on it.

#five bucks and a pat on the head and i'll maybe write more of this #that is if anyone even likes it #acotar #elucien #pro elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #acotar headcanons #acotar au

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futurehunt · 4 months

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"You're not the person I want to explain myself to." -Eris Vanserra and his hidden motives

The story of Eris Vanserra haunts me. At this point, most of the characters in ACOTAR are an open book in terms of their backgrounds but Eris's is still so shrouded in mystery and I have to know more. Consider this the inspiration for my following lengthy analysis of all the Eris Vanserra scenes we've been given. Additional inspiration being this clip of SJM from a since deleted live stream on Instagram (still available on YouTube) :

Love that SJM says that Eris is her favorite Autumn Court character but more importantly she spills a little detail about Eris having a secret history and a secret motivation behind his character. I think most readers assumed by now that Eris is primed for a redemption arc but this simply could've been reserved to him making amends for leaving Mor injured in the woods. No, this is something more than that- something significant that affected his actions back then and is still influencing them now.

Let's start breaking everything down:

Everything starts with: Eris found and left Mor in the woods at the Autumn Court border after she was tortured dumped there by her father, Keir.

Why did he do this?

“I knew why you did it... So I gave you your freedom, ending the betrothal in no uncertain terms" - Eris in ACOWAR

After Mor slept with Cassian, Eris knew Mor did it because she wanted out of the engagement (for a secret reason- on her end- that we'll touch on in a bit) so he ended the betrothal as she wished.

But why did Eris leave her there, injured with fatal wounds? This is still the biggest point of hostility between him and the IC.

"There were forces at work that you have never considered," Eris said coldly. "And I am not going to waste my breath explaining them to you. Believe what you want about me" - ACOWAR

What are these forces?

We're given an answer to this question during a scene in ACOFAS when Mor is recalling the memory of that day at the Autumn Court border.

“No one touches her,” he said. Eris. “The moment we do, she’s our responsibility.” Cold, unfeeling words. “But—but they nailed a—” “No one touches her.” - ACOFAS

If Eris or his men provided aid to Mor she would've become their responsibility, implying that she would've become a ward of the Autumn Court essentially. This is probably why Keir even dumped her on the border in the first place, because he knew that if the Autumn Court provided her aid they would have to assume responsibility for her. It was created as a lose-lose situation for Mor: get help from Eris and be trapped at the Autumn Court or be refused help and left to suffer and potentially die in the woods.

“I take it you do not wish to live here, Morrigan.” She would rather die here, bleed out here. She would rather die and return—return as something wicked and cruel, and shred them all apart. He must have read it in her eyes. A small smile curved his lips. “I thought so.” -ACOFAS

He knew she'd rather die than live there so he acted according to her wishes, even though it was done cruelly. This scene, which we're given from Mor's perspective, shows that she heard the true reason why Eris refused to provide her aid but because of the trauma of the whole situation she likely never put two and two together.

But the situation is a bit more complex than that. There is more to the reason that Eris left her in the woods to have her freedom.

“Eris nodded to where Mor watched them from beside Feyre and Rhys, her face neutral and aloof. “She knows the truth but has never revealed it." “Why?” “Because she is afraid of it.” - ACOSF; dance scene between Nesta and Eris

Eris knows something about Mor that she's afraid to reveal. What's the only fact we know about Mor that she's been hiding her entire life? That she's queer. It seems somehow Eris was aware of this.

“Eris looked between them, smiling faintly. Secretly. As if he knew something that Azriel didn’t. "I knew why you did it" Again that secret smile that had Mor shrinking." -ACOWAR

Later on in ACOWAR, we find out the big secret Mor is hiding is that she's romantically attracted to females. Alright, so somehow Eris knew Mor was queer back when they were betrothed. It seems that this was part of the reason he left her to her freedom.

Despite the cruel nature he's described to have, Eris keeps the knowledge that Mor is queer to himself. Eris left Mor in the woods because he knew she wanted her freedom and the reason she wanted her freedom was because she is queer. Out of some uncharacteristic kindness, Eris won't share this information with the rest of the IC because he seems to not want to out her because he knows she's afraid of the truth. Refer to the quote between Eris and Nesta above for proof of this.

But what are Eris's own secret motivations in all of this?

“So I gave you your freedom, ending the betrothal in no uncertain terms.”

“And what happened next,” Azriel growled.

A shadow crossed Eris’s face. “There are few things I regret. That is one of them. But … perhaps one day, now that we are allies, I shall tell you why. What it cost me.”

This is such an important line and one that if you don't dissect it properly, you won't understand it's real meaning.

"What it cost me". The cost that Eris is referring to is one that he suffered as a result of leaving Mor unaided in the woods. NOT from breaking the engagement, from leaving her. "The cost" is something that would've been unaffected by breaking the engagement (because Eris has no remorse over that) but affected by abandoning an injured Mor (because this is what Eris labels as one of the few things he regrets). Mor being left in the woods was, in the grand scheme of things, inconsequential for the rest of Prythian. The only people negatively affected by it were Mor and the rest of the IC.

"Perhaps one day... I shall tell you why" when Eris says this, he means: perhaps one day he'll them why he regrets it, NOT why he did it. It's important to read this quote in the context of its surrounding passages because you'll see that he had an opportunity to explain why he left her but he instead tells Mor he's not going to "waste his breath explaining it to her."

So after breaking down those lines we know: Eris regrets abandoning Mor because of something it cost him in relation to the IC now hating him after the events at the border but "the cost" is something he's hesitant to reveal to them.

For the sake of the analysis, let's go over a few things we know Eris does canonically care about and why they are not the cost he's referring to:

His father's throne: It's not secret that Eris wants to usurp his father. Feyre even notes how startled she was to hear Eris discuss killing his father so blatantly. Also, if the marriage to Mor would've aided Eris in taking the throne then Eris would've expressed remorse at ending the engagement but he didn't. He only regretted leaving her injured.

His mother, Lady of Autumn: The text shows us that Eris is concerned over the welfare of this mother when he angles his body to protect her during the High Lord meeting scene. However at the time of Eris's betrothal to Mor, his mother wasn't miserable in her marriage the way she's described now. It wasn't until LoA's affair with Helion was revealed, which happened decades after the Eris and Mor situation, that Beron began abusing his wife. Of course, Eris undoubtedly wants his father dead because of this but we know it's not "the cost" that Eris references since it wasn't a factor at the time.

“Helion shrugged. “On and off for decades. Until Beron found out. They say the lady was all brightness and smiles before that. And after Beron was through with her. You saw what she is.” “What did he do to her?” “The same things he does now.” Helion waved a hand. “Belittle her, leave bruises where no one but him will see them.” - ACOWAR

Lucien: Eris has a soft spot for Lucien but he wasn't born for decades after everything happened so he can't be a factor in why Eris regrets his actions.

His father tortures him: It's revealed at the end of ACOSF that Beron tortures Eris after Cassian realizes Eris is injured after returning back from Autumn. We're not told how long it's been occurring and Eris is extremely reluctant to speak on the matter. However, if this was the big secret Eris has been hiding there'd be a bit more emphasis placed on the reveal. In fact, Cassian pushes him again after that to tell him the true reason he left Mor on the border (keep in mind Cassian doesn't know Mor is queer and Eris is refusing to reveal that information to others) and asks Eris for the real reason he's back the Night Court trying to make amends.

Why is Eris back at the Night Court after everything that happened, pushing so hard to build an alliance?

When pushed for the truth, Eris tells Cassian:

"You're not the person I want to explain myself to" - ACOSF

Cassian assumes Eris means Mor and tells him she won't want to hear his explanations anyway. But is Mor really the person Eris was referencing. I think not, given we've been given these lines:

Eris nodded to where Mor watched them from beside Feyre and Rhys, her face neutral and aloof. “She knows the truth but has never revealed it." -ACOSF

"There were forces at work that you have never considered," Eris said coldly. "And I am not going to waste my breath explaining them to you. Believe what you want about me"- ACOWAR

Eris says that Mor already knows the truth and has explicitly said he doesn't care what she thinks about him. He has nothing to explain to her. And aside from those two facts, which already make it clear enough that Mor is not the person Eris meant, what more would Eris gain from speaking to Mor? Assuaging his guilt? That could be a reasonable explanation if it weren't for Cassian already asking Eris if guilt is what was motivating him, Cassian realizing it's not and pushing for Eris to "give me a damn answer".

"You're not the person I want to explain myself to"

So, who in the IC does Eris want to explain himself to?

Mor? No, for reasons stated above

Cassian? No, they're speaking in that scene and if Cassian were the person then Eris wouldn't have said that

Feyre? Nesta? Elain? Weren't alive so aren't applicable

Lucien? Wasn't alive during the incident and is thus unaffected

Rhysand? We're told in ACOSF (Chapter 7) that Eris already has Rhysand's trust and allyship

Amren? I guess I can't necessarily eliminate Amren as the person Eris wants to explain himself to but let's be real, it's not her.

Azriel? Hmm....The person who arguably hates Eris more than even Mor herself. Who has such a burning passionate rage towards Eris that he attacked him during a High Lord meeting, yet also dropped everything to fly to the Continent to save Eris when he was abducted by Koschei.

Conclusion and remaining questions

Let's put everything together:

Eris is back at the Night Court attempting to smooth things over, make amends, and build an allyship. On the surface, we're told it's all because he wants the throne. But what we now know from SJM (in her interview) and our textual analysis is that Eris paid a big, deeply personal price due to the fall out of leaving Mor injured at the Autumn Court border. This cost was directly tied to the IC's perception of him. Eris lost something or the chance at something when the Night Court began to hate him. So he's back, 500-ish years later, attempting to make amends because of the same problem that plagued him all those centuries ago. We also know there's only one person he's interested in explaining himself to- and that person interestingly seems to be Azriel. Why would Eris want to explain himself to Azriel? Why go to these lengths to make amends with him? Was "the cost" Eris paid 500 years ago tied to Azriel?Is this all tied to Eris's "secret history and secret motivations" that SJM referenced? Crack theory time: What if Eris and Azriel are mates? If they are, it would seem maybe Eris knows about it but Azriel isn't consciously aware? It could explain Azriel's extreme and passionate reactions to Eris. What if when Eris became an enemy of the Night Court he lost his chance at having a connection to his mate. It would also explain why Eris is so tight lipped about his secret motivations. We know that Beron tortures Eris as he is now, imagine what he would do to Eris if he found out he was queer. If Eris is queer it would also explain his empathy to Mor and his reluctance to tell her truth to other people. This could also explain why Azriel is the one person Eris wants to explain himself to, because Azriel is the only person whose opinion he cares about. AND this would also provide an answer to the great "Azriel mate debate". I know Gwynriel is a popular theory but the text has not given us any indication that they are (yes, bonus chapter included) and Azriel had never displayed any mate-like behavior around her. Eris and Azriel also provide interesting foils to one another: flame and shadow- which is a theme that's mentioned in both of SJM's other series. We also know how much SJM loves her enemies to lovers.

"There was an icy rage in Azriel I'd never been able to thaw" -Rhysand in ACOMAF

Azriel is routinely described as icy and frozen, physically and emotionally. What better to thaw ice than fire!

If you read this far- thank you and ily.

Feel free to let me know if you have any critiques to my reasoning!

#acotar #acosf #acowar #acotar theories #eris vanserra #eris apologist #azriel #azris supremacy #azris #azris theories #cassian #morrigan #sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm #acofas #what was the cost #the cost!!#what is he hiding

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fieldofdaisiies · 1 month

Text

Welcome to Burlesque

paring: Gwyn x Azriel | type: fluff | words: 6,8k | warnings: none; for @gwynrielweeksofficial day AU, thank you so much for organising this great event💛 read on ao3

Show a little more Show a little less Add a little smoke Welcome to Burlesque

Maybe this idea is stupid? Maybe it is incredibly stupid.

“Och!” Gwyn thinks and wants to throw her head back and groan out loud, but she is in public, so she growls internally. She curls her fingers tighter around the pole she is holding onto in order to not tumble around in the bus. Her feets are planted wide on the ground, and for a moment she hopes to just grow roots so she never has to leave this bus.

Why did she even come up with such a stupid idea?

Well, Gwyn thinks and blows out a long breath, it technically wasn’t my idea.

No. It was Nesta and Emerie‘s idea. Nesta and Emerie’s brilliant idea. Gwyn loves her best friends, more than anything in this world, but this idea was stupid. Still is. And why she agreed…it will forever be a mystery to her.

Doubts, doubts she hoped to shove away, start to bubble up inside her mind and make her stomach coil. Despite being determined and often rather confident, Gwyn worries she will not be good enough and make a fool out of herself. It is not easy to let go off such thoughts, even harder to fight against them—

So captured by her uncertainty and the whirlwind of thoughts within her mind, Gwyn nearly misses her stop. And honestly, the thought of missing it doesn’t sound too appalling. But something, almost like a little pull on her chest, makes her move, her steps treading carefully over the floor of the bus when she leaves and then over the in-ice-covered streets.

She could be at home now, wrapped up in thick blankets, a cup of hot chocolate in her hands, watching the Idol or The Voice, day-dreaming about a future where she finds herself standing on a stage.

Everything you dream ofBut never can possessNothing's what it seemsWelcome to Burlesque

Tendrils of breath curl in front of her face when she exhales a long breath — maybe the day-dreaming is soon over and her wishes actually become reality? Because what she is about to do…

Gwyn rubs her gloved hands against each other. Her heart is beating rapidly, her stomach coiling even more, as nervousness grows rapidly within her chest.

She stops in front of the large sign that one can see for miles - aglow and shining brightly, inviting. The door below is similarly lit, the lettering on top of bright.

If she left now, no one would know she was even here. She could just tell Emerie and Nesta that she got a headache and had to stay home. What a brilliant idea, Gwyn thinks, but—

“Hey, sweetie!” A lovely female voice sounds behind her and Gwyn spins around. The blond woman now moving past her, simultaneously uses her key to unlock the door and shrugs off her coat.

“I’m Morrigan, but everyone calls me Mor. I sit at the entrance. You must be Gwyn. Come in, don’t want you freezing to death out here.” Mor holds the door open for Gwyn, who can only follow her invitation, lips parted slightly.

There is no way back now – and how the hell, does Mor know her name?

For a split second entertains the thought of running, but then she realises how stupid that would look. She tries to summon every little ounce of confidence, letting it settle into her chest, inhaling one deep, long breath.

“Hi, pleasure to meet you.”

Tossing her coat onto the counter and smoothing out her hair, Morrigan turns to her again, “The pleasure is fully mine. Your coat.”

Gwyn places her bag down and hands her coat to the blond woman.

“Emmy, already told me you’d come and about your incredible talent. I can’t wait to hear you sing.”

“She did?!” Gwyn asks, slightly overwhelmed.

“She did.” The blond woman flashes her a bright smile.

Morrigan is beautiful, Gwyn thinks, her smile radiant, her red dress stunning and she starts to question her own choice of clothing - leggings and a sweater.

“Are you ready?”

She has no time to answer— her expression must have given her away before Gwyn even had a chance to open her mouth. So Morrigan steps into her, her manicured hands landing atop Gwyn’s shoulders.

“I‘m sure you will do amazing. Emmy showed me a few of your videos, you are incredibly talented. You will set this place on fire.” Morrigan grins from one ear to the other, her smile so radiant it rivals spotlights.

But when her lips turn into a softer, more delicate smile, the blond female asks a question that sends a pang of hurt right into Gwyn’s heart.

“Do you have someone you want to make proud? Or someone you want to prove something to? It is always a nice motivation for auditions.” Mor drops her hands and turns toward the staircase. “Whenever I auditioned for modeling jobs, I always kept in mind that I wanted to prove to my father that this is my life and my decisions and studying at Harvard truly wasn’t for me.”

Gwyn only half listens, and offers the blond female a tight smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. She is a little unfocused, now that her thoughts start to wander after Mor mentioned “someone you want to make proud”.

Because in her life there is —was— someone she wants to make proud. Her twin sister. Her late twin sister. Catrin Berdara. She died in a car crash six years ago, a memory that still haunts Gwyn, a pain that will never fade and that has left a wound within her heart that can never be healed. She has learned to live with the loss of her sister, but that doesn’t mean it the day hasn’t left its scars.

Someone you want to make proud. A new sense of determination suddenly fills Gwyn when she replays the words in her mind. She wants to make her sister proud and this thought truly motivates her — Morrigan is right. She is doing this for herself, but also for her sister. Catrin loved to watch her sing, loved when she sang for them, and now Gwyn is going to make her the proudest sister ever.

This thought also gives enough self-confidence to straighten her posture and follow Morrigan down the staircase with confident steps, her shoulders squared.

Within seconds, Gwyn is absolutely mesmerised by the place, all the flickering, glowing lights, the immaculate decor. It doesn’t look cheap or tacky - everything here looks luxurious, lush, formidable. Absolutely amazing.

Her lips part slightly when her gaze trails from the bar to the stage - the stage she would maybe soon perform on. The stage a few women are currently performing on. The one in the middle is the leader, Gwyn knows and then her eyes move to her best friend. There is Nesta!

And she looks absolutely breathtaking and amazing. She hasn’t found Emerie yet, but she might be somewhere in the back, restocking things for the bar.

Excitement slowly seeps into every fibre of her body, and she feels anticipation. Maybe it wasn’t such a stupid idea after all. And maybe working in the same place as her friends, doing the thing she loves most, is quite amazing.

Something there in the darkIs playing with your mindIt's not the end of daysIt's just the bump and grindShow a little moreShow a little lessAdd a little smokeWelcome to Burlesque

Gwyn watches in astonishment, how coordinated everything is, how beautiful the woman in the middle sings, and how gracefully everyone dances. It is a stunning show and suddenly she can’t wait to be part of it. She wants to be part of this incredible group!

Okay, Gwyn thinks, maybe this was not a stupid idea at all. She wants to be part of it, within the seconds that follow small fractions of her nervousness start to fade, dissipating into thin air.

She knows the dresses they are wearing are very short and very revealing, and with some things that happened to her in the past, it scared her a little when Nesta told her about it. But her best friend took some part of the fear from her - they have a bodyguard here, and he is the best (according to Nesta also in other places aka the bedroom) and he always makes sure the girls are 100% safe. No one ever gets to touch them or only look at them the wrong way. The bodyguard will immediately kick them out.

And this comforts her. A lot.

“There you go. I need to head back to work, checking guest lists and stuff.” Mor brushes her hand over Gwyn’s shoulder. “If you need me, I am up in the booth,” —Mor points upstairs again— “until then, chin up, shoulders squared, smile and sweep them off your feet with your talent Gwyn.”

Gwyn thanks her and watches her leave, drawing in some deep inhales, and closing her eyes — some mind-stilling techniques she has read about in a book that actually help her a lot.

After a moment, Gwyn places her bag on one of the barstools, eyes aglow as they dance over every single person on the stage, then once again lock onto Nesta. This is fully her thing, Gwyn knows this. Her best friend enjoys every little moment of this dance performance and she can’t wait to share this happiness with her.

Most of the former doubts have all of a sudden vanished and it even leaves her surprised herself. But it is a good feeling, a wonderful and very welcome feeling.

A smile blooms on Gwyn‘s face, her mind immediately memorising the song, the performance, the–

“We are still closed,” a velvety and at the same time cold voice says behind her, startling Gwyn so much she nearly jumps a little.

Gwyn spins around, and her breath catches.

A man, tall, strongly built, and with beauty that is beyond her emerges from the shadows of the room behind the bar. He holds a towel in his hands, drying himself off, his black shirt is slightly unbuttoned at the top showing some tendrils of ink on his tanned skin.

Gwyn meets his eyes and in a voice that is much stronger than she has expected it to be, she says, “I am not here to watch.”

The handsome man casually tosses the towel over his shoulder, gaze slowly running over her. It is not in a sensual way, or in one that would make her uncomfortable. No, he is curious. He is assessing her.

Casually, he leans his hip against the counter and crosses his arms over his broad chest and the corner of his louth kicks up.

“So you are here—”

“To perform. You are going to audition for the lead role, aren’t you?.”

A man, even taller than the other, appears next to his colleague and Gwyn immediately knows who he is.

Mr Man-bun-devilish-smile-stunning-body-and-god-between-the-sheets, or simpler Cass. Or…Nesta‘s friend with benefits.

Gwyn has heard a lot about him. And has heard him a lot already as well – Cassian is not the calmest in the bedroom, that much she knows. Now at least she finally has a face to Nesta‘s secret lover who also slipped out of their flat before she got up. (The pictures of him on Nesta‘s phone don’t count.)

“That is right,” Gwyn beams, I‘m here to audition. Music has by then settled into every cell of her body, it nearly makes her sway her hips, and she knows it hasn’t been a bad decision. Her best friends just know her too well, even though she might not have thought so herself at first.

“I heard you have a lot of talent, Gwyn.”

She concludes, her friends definitely share too much about her…but she offers Cassian a polite smile and then thanks him.

“Are you ready?”

Gwyn grins, and despite the kernel of nervousness still deeply-rooted within her chest, she says, “Born ready.”

It steals a small laugh from the male she still doesn’t know the name of. Cassian chortles loudly and says, “Good, because here comes Ri.” Cassian winks at her and turns toward the staircase. Gwyn has no time to ask “who?” because—

“You must be, Gwyn. I‘ve heard so much about you, and your talent. I can’t wait to hear you on the stage.”

When she turns, Gwyn is met with a tall female in her early forties, her long black hair cascading down her front in loose waves, her make-up immaculate, just like the grace with which she walks, the long robe revealing hints of her long legs.

“I‘m Rita, the owner of this club.”

“Gwyn,” she reaches out her hand and Rita shakes it, the smile on her lips widening.

“You are ready for this, Gwyn, and everything that comes along with it.”

Gwyn holds her gaze, and inhales a deep breath. She is going to do this. For her best friends. For her sister. For herself. She can do this. She has talent, she knows this, and this might be a big step, but definitely one into the right direction.

In a voice that is confident, she says, “Yes, I am.”

“Then enough of the chit-chat. Get onto the stage, and show us what you got!”

Rita claps her hands twice and all girls stop dancing, and finally Nesta spots her, her eyes widening in delight and a joyful noise slips through her lips.

“You came,” she nearly shouts and beams at Gwyn.

I did, Gwyn thinks, and returns her best friend’s expression.

⋆｡♪ ₊˚ ⋆｡♪ ₊˚

“Good luck. Show her what you got!” Azriel says and braces his hands on the cool countertop, watching how Gwyn turns back to him, a beautiful, barely-there smile on her in-freckles-covered cheeks.

“Thank you,” she answers politely and then follows after Rita. Azriel’s gaze stays on her, almost already a little enthralled by her, by her beauty—

“That looks like a severe crush to me, and that after, hmmm,” —Emerie, finally having emerged from the storage room, looks at her wrist, at her imaginary watch, and then back at Azriel— “after mere seconds. Congrats, Azzy.”

She flashes him a wicked grin, and Azriel tosses an ice cube at her. “I don’t have a crush,” he protests.

“Of course, and you also definitely don’t look at my best friend like she is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen.” Emerie rolls her eyes in a dramatic manner.

Gwyn is most definitely the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, Azriel thinks, but in a voice, tinged with annoyance, he says, “I don’t have a crush, Em.”

“Whatever you say, lover boy.”

“Don’t call me that,” he snaps, but has to grin. When Emerie laughs loudly, he stretches out his arm and curls it around her shoulder, putting her in a playful headlock.

But his arms loosen just a moment later and drop to his side when—

Oh-oh, sometimes I get a good feeling, yeahI get a feeling that I never, never, never, never had before, no, no

He has expected her voice to be good, but that good? No way. Azriel’s mouth falls open, eyes widening, his lips feeling a little dry.

“Fuck,” he breathes and hears Emerie giggle next to him. When he slowly turns to look at her, he sees the woman watch with nothing but pride and absolute amazement how her best friend performs.

“She is incredible,” Emerie whispers and folds her hand over her heart, tears glistening in her dark eyes.

“She is,” Azriel agrees in the same breathy voice. “She really is.”

I just wanna tell you right now that II believeI really do believe thatSomething's got a hold on me, yeah

Azriel watches the rest of the performance in astonishment and can’t stop himself from grinning when Rita claps loudly and officially announces that Gwyn got the job, as they would never find a better option in the entire city.

He also watches how her friends rush to her, embracing her tightly, all three of them cheering, and jumping around like crazy hens. He finds it amusing, and aöthough he won’t approach her anymore today, he will try to catch her tomorrow, maybe talk a little with her.

⋆｡♪ ₊˚ ⋆｡♪ ₊˚

“Congrats, by the way,” Azriel leans against the door, holding it open for Gwyn. Gwyn raises a brow, a bright smile on her lips.

“On what?” she asks, but actually knows the answer.

“On landing the role,” Azriel chuckles and Gwyn walks past him, her scent immediately hitting him – of waterlilies and a lake after rain, fresh and wonderful. He loves it.

“You are the barkeeper here right?”

“A barkeeper, but yes.” Azriel follows her down the staircase and Gwyn looks at him over her shoulder. “Em’s your boss, right?”

The man dips his chin, the smirk not fading. “She is and she really loves to emphasise this.”

Of course, Emerie does, Gwyn thinks and has to giggle to herself. They continue the rest down to the bar and stage sharing a bit of small talk, mostly very superficial things, but it is a nice start to get to know each other and for the little spark between the ignite and start to glow brightly within their hearts.

Just like the previous day, Azriel once again watches Gwyn perform, his sole focus on her, and not on the other women around her. Of course, Nesta catches him staring and winks at him across the room and also Emerie pats his shoulder.

“Not a crush,” she chuckles when she passes him with a tray full of freshly washed glasses. “Sort them in.”

“Pulling rank?” Azriel raises a brow.

Emerie smirks, and crosses her arms over her chest. “Always. I need to make sure my men really work and don’t just drool over beautifully red-haired singers.” She winks at him and turns away, leaving Azriel alone. Alone to stare and day-dream about Gwyn’s utterly beautiful voice. He is mesmerised by it, absolutely – she is a siren and he a sailor, fully enthralled by her angelic voice, following her out into the deep blue sea. The sea – her eyes somehow remind him of an ocean, wild and free, and–

Azriel shakes his head. Definitely not a crush…right. Who is he fooling? But falling so easily? After such a minimal amount of time?

“Good god!” Azriel expresses and picks up the first glass to dry it off. He hates to admit it, but he knows Emerie is right. He truly has a crush.

And this crush doesn’t get better. No, it only gets worse.

He can’t stop himself from marveling at her every day she returns for practice. She is gorgeous and he loves how her whole demeanor changes when she is up on the stage. It feels like a weight falls from her shoulders and on the stage she moves freely, wildly, joyfully. Like a bird in the wind. She is flying and nothing can stop her.

And despite her nervousness before her first performance, and the snarky remark from her rival colleague Merrill, who says that Gwyn is not ready yet, she turns in a free spirit once she starts to perform.

The seven sisters got nothing on himI'm talking about a lover who's fast as the windEveryone will talk about how he got me fixedIt ain't voodoo, it's just that twistHe will be the greatest lover that ever come to passDon Juan ain't got the half the chanceHe's a tough lover

With each day, and every performance that follows, the weight seems to fully leave her shoulders until Gwyn is nothing more than a radiant soul, full of brightness and happiness whenever she steps foot into the building.

Azriel finds himself drawn to her, and is truly thankful that Gwyn seems to feel the same. She often seeks him out after a performance, just for a short talk, or a short drink, before she heads home with Nesta, them giggling and whispering giddy while departing and Azriel wants nothing more than to know what they are talking about. If they are talking about him.

⋆｡♪ ₊˚ ⋆｡♪ ₊˚

“You’re sure it is alright?”

“100%!” Azriel hears Gwyn assure Nesta. He places the last glass down and then takes off his apron, placing it neatly on the counter.

“I hate letting you go home alone.” Nesta curls her around Gwyn’s shoulders.

“I will be safe.” Gwyn places her hand on Nesta’s forearm, then pats it. “It isn’t that far.”

With a sigh, Nesta steps away. “You call me when you arrive at home.”

“I don’t think you will be…available,” Gwyn snickers, and tilts her head into Cassian’s direction. He is already impatiently waiting at the staircase.

“Then text me. I need to know you are home and safe.” Nesta kisses Gwyn’s cheek and finally fully steps away from her, heading towards Cassian. Gwyn shows her thumbs up and Nesta nods, letting Cassian wrap his arm around her and then they leave.

Leave them alone. Just the two of them. Rita is still somewhere around, but probably in her office, so she doesn’t count at this moment.

“I am also heading home now,” Gwyn tells Azriel and awkwardly slides off her stool.

“I’m taking you.” Azriel bends down and then straightens up, holding a motorcycle helmet in his hand. “Allow me to give you a ride. I really don’t want you to go home alone. At night.”

As much as Gwyn wants to say yes, she can’t. Something restrains her from doing so. It might be the close proximity a motorcycle provides, and the thought of having to be so utterly close to Azriel, to a man, or her nervousness about her growing feelings for him, but she can’t say yes. At this moment, it is simply not possible. Being so close to a man, letting a man so close to her, is still not so easy. It has gotten better over time, much better. She doesn’t fear Azriel, or Cassian or the men who come to watch the show, but crossing a line of distance…this is something else.

Something that still makes her feel uneasy.

Azriel rounds the counter, giving her a look that seems a little impatient. “Yes?”

“Thank you very much, but you really don’t need to.”

“I know,” Azriel says, his voice soft, “but I want to.”

And then it happens. To quick. So quick that it startles her. She doesn’t want to flinch. Not because of him. Not because of his touch. But with the surprise and her already being tense due to the conversation before, she cringes the slightest bit and prays that Azriel hasn’t noticed.

Her heart slams into her belly when she takes in the look in his eyes – he did notice. Gwyn can barely stand to face him a moment longer. She can’t bear to see the hurt within his hazel eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” Gwyn says quickly, her voice hushed. “I need to leave now.” She heads for the staircase. Before the first step, she turns back to Azriel and over her shoulder she says, “This has nothing to do with you. I want you to know this. This only has to do with myself.”

Then she is gone, leaving Azriel alone in the dim room, in his heart a little crack and in his mind nothing but confusion. In the days that follow, things between them feel awkward. They both want to apologize, but they don't know how to start. They mostly avoid each other until Gwyn decides to take the first step and talk to Azriel…

⋆｡♪ ₊˚ ⋆｡♪ ₊˚

“You sing?!” Gwyn’s voice is joyful and surprised, eyes full of brightness.

“No, I don’t.” Azriel furrows his brows.

Gwyn puts her hands on her hips. “I‘m not dumb, Azriel, I heard you. You were totally singing in the storage room.”

His gaze meets hers. “I can‘t sing,” he says but Gwyn wants to hear none of it. She shakes her head and smiles.

“You can sing! You should perform with me.”

Azriel’s furrows his forehead, then turns away from her and starts to dry off a glass. Some of their former lightness has returned. He knows they have to talk about what has happened, but right now he is happy that they at least talk again. “I would never sing in public,” Azriel says and places the glass down and picks up a new one. “Sorry, but that will never happen.”

Gwyn sighs dramatically, and lifts her hands only so she can place them on the bar counter. “I guess I‘m going to call you shadowsinger then, only revealing your beautiful singing voice when hidden by darkness.”

She grins in triumph over her invention of the word shadowsinger (the perfect description for him) and it even elicits a small chuckle from Azriel.

He turns to her and an adorable blush blooms high on his cheeks. “You are impossible, Gwyn.” He tosses his damp towel at her, but Gwyn elegantly catches it and pokes her tongue out at her colleague, cheeks equally rosy.

But the playfulness fades from her face and a more sincere expression settles there. “I actually came here to apologsie to you, Azriel.”

“You don’t have to apologise.” Azriel straightens up and once again tosses the towel over his shoulder. “You did nothing wrong. I touched you without your consent.”

Her heart warms at his kindness, at the understanding and empathy within his hazel eyes. So, Gwyn takes a step forward and places her palms on the cool surface of the counter. She smiles at him, and closes her eyes. “I flinched, and I want you to know that this wasn’t because of you, Azriel.” Slowly, her lids open and she meets his gaze. Azriel is already looking at her, patiently waiting for her to continue.

“It had nothing to do with you.”

“I startled you and–”

“Can we maybe sit down somewhere and talk?”

Gwyn has specifically chosen to get to work a little earlier this day so he can talk to him. She wanted to catch Azriel alone and she knew the best time for that would be before work. She wants to let him in, and offer him a proper explanation. She knows that there is something between them. The secret glances, the shy smiles, the spark between them, it is all there. The lightness when they talk, the playfulness, the little teasing every now and then. She most definitely has a crush on him and she can sense that it is vice versa. And she doesn’t want to let this wonderful thing that could be between them be destroyed by her past.

Enough was taken from her back then. She can’t allow it to have control over her whole life.

Accepting this job offer here, was one of the first steps into the right direction. This is now the next one.

Once they are seated, a glass of water in front of both of them thanks to Azriel, Gwyn inhales deeply, closes her eyes and takes a moment to calm her breathing and her mind. And then she is ready to open up. She first tells Azriel about her sister, Catrin. How much she loved her, how they grew up together. And then, when her voice is already hoarse and tears roll down her cheeks, she allows him to learn a part of herself that hardly anyone knows. Apart from Nesta and Emerie, no one knows actually. So this is a major step, but one that feels good. She likes to let Azriel in, open up to him, offer him an explanation for why she flinched. But it is not because she feels the need to do so, she does it because it feels right. Being with him does. Opening up to him does. Letting him in does.

Azriel stays calm the whole time, lets her talk and listens, his own eyes watering.

“You are so strong, Gwyn,” he eventually says. Gwyn shakes her head and tears fly away.

“You are,” Azriel protests. “And the fact that you now stand here, with a smile on your lips, performing every night with nothing but brightness in your soul…I am very proud of you.”

She doesn’t need him to say it, but it also feels damn good and she smiles through her tears and is now the one to reach out, placing her hand atop his. “Thank you for listening to me.”

“Thank you for sharing this part of your past with me.” He revels in the touch of her soft skin against his, and that she feels comfortable enough with him to hold his hand. “Thank you for letting me.”

“I know that I can trust you, and this part of myself is safe with you.” Gwyn holds his gaze, neither of them able to look away. Sparks ignite anew between them, their gazes locked, hands still in each other’s hold.

“Always,” Azriel whispers, and flips over his hand, stroking the back of hers with his thumb. “And so are you. I will make sure nothing ever happens to you again, Gwyn. And so does Cass. You are safe here, you know this.”

“I do,” she hums and leans forward the slightest bit. “I know that I am safe here and that nothing can happen to me here.”

He returns her smile, and it is the most beautiful thing Gwyn has ever seens. Her heart is beating so fast, it is hammering against her rib cage and if they keep looking at each other for a moment longer, she knows it will burst right through her chest.

“Sometimes…” Gwyn averts her gaze for a moment. “Sometimes the demons are still there. I feel like they linger somewhere in the back of my mind and I can’t always keep them locked away. But it is getting better.”

When she turns back she finds nothing but understanding on Azriel’s face. “I know exactly what you are talking about,” he tells her, still gently caressing the back of her hand. “But I’ll promise you that together will make them leave forever.”

⋆｡♪ ₊˚ ⋆｡♪ ₊˚

“What are you doing?” Gwyn looks over his shoulder and Azriel snatches the notebook close.

“Nothing,” he grumbles, his shoulders tensing. He places his hand atop the little, black book almost like protecting it from her prying eyes.

“Oh, secrets?” Gwyn raises a teasing brow, surrounding him, hands braced on her hips. “Are you writing a song?”

Azriel frowns. “You have practice now.”

“In five minutes.” She grins, and it warms Azriel’s heart. He can't help it, it just makes the corner of his mouth tip up.

“You should warm up before practice,” he answers, voice still flat.

“I‘m already warm.” A hint of fire fills her eyes that would almost knock Azriel off his feet if he weren’t sitting down.

“Now?” She raises her brows. “Is it a song? Or a poem? Tell me, Azriel, are you one to spout poetry?”

Gwyn places the back of her hand against her forehead, sighing dramatically. “Shall I call you Azriel Shakespeare from now on?”

Chuckling, he places his notebook down and rises to his feet. “You can soon call me yours, Berdara. Go on a date with me. Tomorrow.”

He is smirking, and Gwyn’s heart skips a beat. She feels her cheeks heat, filling with colour. His eyes alone make her knees feel weak, but she won’t give in so easily.

Tapping her index finger against her chin, she tilts her head to the side. “I would never go out with a colleague and I‘m busy tomorrow.”

“Come on, it‘s just a date.”

She leans against the dresser behind her, grins and then says, “Nope.”

Azriel raises a brow. He is not hurt by her answer. It is playful teasing between them and he knows she likes him just as much as he likes her.

He scoffs and then rolls his eyes. “Go to practice now. And then make the decision.”

This is playful banter, Gwyn knows this. Azriel would never push her. Not after having learned about her past, and even before. He is a good man, with a good heart. He would never cross a line where she would no longer feel comfortable.

“My answer is: nope. N.O.P.E.” She puts a stress on each letter, arms now folded over her chest.

She can’t say yes. Not yet. She doesn’t want to rush things with him. She first wants to get him to know a bit better, and also she wants to make him fight a little. He shouldn’t have it that easy. But he’s persistent and won’t let her go so easily. “Think about it again, Berdara.”

Now Gwyn is the one to roll her eyes. “You are impossible, but okay, I will think about it.” She forces a grin onto her lips and grabs her bag before a moment later disappearing into the changing room.

“What’s on the agenda today?” Azriel calls after her, but has to wait for his answer until she appears again. And that in a very short, and white silken dress that makes Azriel gasp.

“Bound to you, sweet love.” She smiles delicately at him and then heads for the door.

“Come, or you’ll miss the whole performance.”

Of course, Azriel follows, but regrets it a moment later. Or actually when Gwyn starts to sing. The rug is pulled out from under his feet in this moment and he is a goner, lost and falling and hitting the ground hard. She is perfect, and amazing and hopefully soon his.

I found a man I can trust And boy, I believe in us I am terrified to love for the first time Can't you see that I'm bound in chains? I've finally found my way I am bound to you

Whenever she is on the stage Gwyn becomes alive – her soul feels light, just like her feet. She sings with her whole heart, pouring every small ounce of emotion into every song. And it is perfect.

⋆｡♪ ₊˚ ⋆｡♪ ₊˚

“Allow me to drive you home today?”

“You are persistent.” Gwyn chuckles at Azriel.

“Hey!” Azriel throws up his hands in despair. “I did not ask about a date again. Only about driving you home.” He leans his shoulder against the doorframe. “Nesta is sleeping at Cass’ place aka Cassian‘s and my place again, so…I don’t want you to go home alone and I really need an excuse to not go home immediately.”

“You don’t want to go home?” Gwyn raises a brow.

“I don’t what it is like when Cass is at your place, but when they are our place they are not quite calm in their…love making.”

Gwyn understands immediately, internally face-palming herself and then grimaces. “Fine,” she says, but then remembers something.

She turns to him with a grin. “But only under one condition.” There is a mischievous glint in her eyes that nearly brings Azriel to his knees.

“Go on,” he drawls.

“You show me the song you wrote.”

Azriel’s eyes widen, but the surprise fades quickly and he laughs. “You really don’t forget anything, do you?”

Gwyn grins, and shakes her head. “Not the important things.”

“Impossible.” Azriel pushes off the doorframe, and reveals the motorcycle helmet he held behind his body, now holding it out into her direction. “Alright then. You allow me to give you a ride, I‘ll show you the song.”

She closes the distance between, her hand reaching for the helmet. “Alright then,” she says with a bright grin.

It is almost like a movie scene, Gwyn concludes, when moments later finds herself atop his incredible motorcycle, her legs on either side of it and Azriel’s hands…she allowed him to fix the strap of the spare helmet he somehow owned and…

God! Gwyn looses a breath she forgot she was holding in. He is so close, the scent of his colon everything she can smell and his smile — oh damn him and his stunning smile.

“That’s alright?” Azriel asks, trying to move the helmet around but it is perfectly in place.

“Perfect,” Gwyn tells him and Azriel pats her helmet before mounting the bike himself, always careful.

“Hands on my waist.” Gwyn follows his order, scooting a bit closer, her breath catching once again.

“Will you go fast?”

“If that’s what you like?”

“Is it what you like?”

Azriel turns to look at her, and before he closes the lid of his helmet, he smirks. Then he starts the motorcycle. “Hold on tight, Gwyn.”

Her arms naturally curl around his waist and they take off.

It is almost like flying, Gwyn thinks. No, this is what flying must feel like — being weightless and fast with the wind whipping against your body. She laughs from the bottom of her heart, the sound pure and full of joy.

As gently as he placed the helmet he also removed it again, his fingers tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. “I hope you enjoyed it so much that you now let me drive you home more often.”

She doesn’t answer him verbally, but she straightens up and kisses his cheek, “Thank you so much for the ride.”

Azriel thinks he is very lucky that it is dark, so Gwyn might hopefully not see the terrible blush on his cheeks. He brings up a hand and scratches the back of his neck.

“And now the song?” She smiles at him expectantly.

“Only under one condition.” Azriel smirks and Gwyn fights the urge to roll her eyes.

“You perform the song at the next show.”

⋆｡♪ ₊˚ ⋆｡♪ ₊˚

She would have never said no. Not to such a wonderful offer. The song he wrote, it was perfect, his talent obvious. But the fact that he wrote this song for her.

It had nearly knocked her off het feet. Even hours after had been gone, Gwyn sat in her bed, reading over the lyrics, memorising it.

And today is the day — she is performing his song. It feels like the greatest honour and she can’t believe her luck that he has actually written a song for her to perform. A song just for her. That he started to write because of her.

The spotlights are warming her skin, Nesta dances close to her and she sings, from the bottom of her heart, enjoys every single note and relishes in the feel of it, happiness reaching the top, seeping into every fibre of her body.

Hit it up, get it up Won't let you rest Hit it up, get it up This is not a test Hit it up, get it up Gotta give me your best So get your ass up Show me how you burlesque.

The song ends and Gwyn is breathless. She throws her arms around Nesta and cuddles her tightly while cheers and applause rain down on them. Tendrils of damp hair curl around her face, and Gwyn knows she has never felt that alive and happy. This was amazing. The song was. Azriel’s song.

She turns her head, and from across the room meets Azriel’s gaze, his eyes alight, and a beautiful, bright smile on his lips.

Gwyn inhales deeply and then sets out for him. She quickly crosses the distance, running, practically flying over the ground and then throwing her arms around his neck. “The song was brilliant,” she cheers and Azriel lifts her off the ground.

“You were brilliant,” he says and has no chance to continue.

Gwyn’s soft lips meet his and fireworks explode within them, nothing but bliss and joy in the air around them.

And when she pulls back and looks at the grin on his face, she knows she is falling massively for him. And fast. And head over heels. But it doesn’t scare her. It feels too good and too right to scare her. Now that she shared her past with him, no obstacle lies between them and she can’t wait for what the future has to offer for them.

She won’t go fast with him. She will take her time, getting to know Azriel first and then they will see where it leads them. But she knows, whatever direction it will be, having Azriel in her life is one of the best things that could have happened to her.

(*this story is using original songs from the Burlesque movie)

#gwynriel #gwynriel weeks 2024 #gwyn x azriel #acotar #acosf

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mushroomnoodles · 6 months

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I really love Vampires and Tarots as an aesthetic and Simon and Betty as the lover fit that so well. I have a few questions about this AU.

How did the lovers find out about Morri? Did they fear Simon was intolerant of blood or something else?

Did the Vampire King find out about Simon and his powerful wife? (I'd imagine the Vampire King would be interested the possibility of a Vampire reproducing natural instead of a bite. And the side bonus of a power Vampire like Betty must sound appealing. )

Since Simon and Betty didn't separate and Simon didn't find the crown, did they meet Marceline or is this a the Star situation?

Finally how did Simon have the baby, is this a golbaby situation or something else?

Thanks! Your posts are just the best!

ok, buckle the fuckle up because this is a long ass post! i'm slapping a cut on it so you don't have to scroll forever but the general cws still apply- cw/tw for sfw, non kink mpreg and once again, two entire drops of blood.

i'd like to start out with saying THE HANGED MAN/vamp simon definitely had the roughest pregnancy of my au simons.. even compared to "vanilla" simon carrying golbetty's child.

nothing super serious, of course, but.. it didn't help that vamp simon is also physically weaker than other vampires. simon's undead body was not exactly equipped to GROW a life. at first, he couldn't stomach anything- everything he drank came right back up, which weakened him severely. his nausea was BAAAD.

for the first few months of pregnancy the only thing he could keep down was grade A human blood. this is how they found out simon was pregnant in the first place- the lack of blood was making him ill, and simon couldn't even do his regular duties, he spent so much time sick. vampires don't get sick. betty was seeing a repeat of something that happened a long time before.. and took him in to see someone with the power of intuition to tell them what ailed him- TEMPERANCE.

simon had finally been able to keep some blood down, so he wasn't so exhausted when they did visit her.

...they were very confused, but betty was overjoyed! simon was too, but ever the thinker, he wanted to know HOW. the same question the vampire king and the rest of the inner circle had, too. they kept simon's pregnancy a secret from most- with the day a weakness for them, the threat of vampire hunters, and the possibility of a new way to reproduce, the vampire king wanted to keep this exciting news secret until they could figure out the details.

simon, not wanting to be poked and prodded like an exhibit, graciously offered to research the phenomenon himself.

yeah. he has no idea.

the whole inner circle waited to see what kind of child simon would give birth to, given his and betty's powers. would their child inherit those abilities from them, or have something new? what did a living vampire entail?

simon was honestly glad he wasn't being paraded around for public eye, because pretty much every pregnancy symptom hit simon like a truck, even mood swings and cravings. and he was THIRSTY. so thirsty. little miracle needed a lot of nourishment and simon even began to crave actual food- which betty went out of her way to procure for him. (morrigan was alive after all!)

seeing simon so sensitive to his environment and working so hard to find an answer to something she felt he didn't have to worry about sort of set her wife/mother instincts into overdrive.. betty was suuper fucking protective of simon and was not afraid to snap at people or refuse circle visitors for him.

plus, morrigan was very strong and very big, and theyd leave little bruises on simon's belly sometimes. and, naturally, vampire morrigan took longer than nine months to be ready- simon carried them for more like 18 months. but they arrived safely, soundly, and surprisingly quietly, despite simon's undead body struggling for two days to bring them into the world. THE CHARIOT was actually eventually born via caesarean, because they were just.. taking way too long. they weren't ill, just sleepy.

granted, everyone was pretty fucking sleepy at that point.

and to answer the marceline question, yes, simon and betty found marceline as a child! marceline took to being nocturnal like a champ.

they had her for only a few months before they were approached by the vampire king, who had been watching them for a long time- before they even picked up marcy.

he'd seen them use their powers and their wits to stay alive in the apocalyptic wasteland- and later raise a child. he wanted them to join his group of vampires, and offered them marceline's safety in return.

simon and betty said yes, knowing they wouldn't be able to face off against a whole legion of vampires- and certainly not the king, if he decided a no was to be his enemy. and the rest is history.

ahh, i think i got everything?

#i have a mproblem #a #cw mpreg #tw mpreg #simon petrikov mpreg #mpreg #vampbetty #vampsimon #vamparents #cw blood #tw blood

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illyrian-dreamer · 1 year

Text

Changing Shadows (Part 5)

Azriel x Reader

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

The Inner Circle are reunited as everyone returns from their missions to Velaris.

You celebrate with a night of drinking at Rita’s, and drunkenly dare to do what it takes to make the Shadowsinger jealous.

Jealous and protective Azriel, semi-smut, Morrigan fluff

Image by koike9023

Warnings: Alcohol, semi-smut, mild violence

ACOSF spoilers ahead!

Word count: 1,253

Part 5:

∇

Feyre had sent word on behalf on her and Nesta that rehabilitation in the human lands were progressing well, and they should be home come Friday.

She had also scolded Rhys to not be so ‘overbearing and mother-hen like’ towards me, as she heard of what happened through their bond. She always took your side, even when you didn’t deserve it.

Mor and Amren had returned from their trip at Dawn Court, the later grumpier than usual as she sought out the privacy of her own apartment, and Mor waltzed in with a new gown and jewels coloured a dusty dawn pink, courtesy of a little shopping spree she told you.

“We missed you,” you said, swaying in her hug.

“Rita’s, Friday night,” she announced to everyone, pointing around the room as if she would punish you if you didn’t attend.

“Are you sure you’ll be done riding Varian by then, Amren?” Cassian teased before she could escape.

“Watch it boy,” she snarled. “We’ll be there,” she nodded to Mor, leaving without a goodbye.

“Excellent!” Mor clapped. She pulled your hands to her room, babbling about her recent trip. “I’m thinking I will wear my newest gown from Dawn. Oh, and you must see what I bought you, I’m hoping we can tailor it to fit your wings?”

You laughed, she spoiled you like a true Aunt.

Your eyes met Azriel’s as Mor pulled you along, your gaze locked as he stood still, shadows swirling as if hiding something. You hadn’t spoken much outside of pleasantries since the conversation on the terrace, but his eyes blazed in a way you couldn’t understand.

Mor shut her bedroom door, casting a quick sound glamour. She spun around immediately, eyes narrowing on you.

“What. Was. That?”

“Hmm?” you questioned, unaware she noticed anything.

“That stare! That look! Did something happen between you and Azriel?”

You blinked. “No? I mean yes-” Mor gasped. “No, not like that, it’s been weird, I-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before she squealed in delight. “Ugh, finally!”

“Finally?”

“Yes, finally, Y/N,” Mor tapped her foot, as if fed up with your naivety. “We all know Azriel is... particularly fond of you. And maybe you are of him?” she guessed bravely, moving your dark long hair off your shoulders.

“I... I’m not sure what he feels,” you admitted. “He’s mostly just...protective.”

“I have a theory,” she replied, fussing over her blond locks in her vanity mirror before turning to you again. “That is the only way Azriel feels safe to love someone.”

You chewed your cheek. It was a bold claim, but Mor knew Azriel in a different way to you.

“Ok,” she strode to her tall closet. “What pretty little thing will we dress you in on Friday?” she asked more to herself, dramatically flinging open the closet doors.

——

Friday came quickly, and spirits were high as the Inner Circle were united again.

Feyre had chosen a midnight blue gown, flowing with femininity around her baby bump. Mor wore her trademark red, while you wore a gown of pure pearl that gently glittered as it plunged down your to your midriff, the back of the dress practically non-existent. Revealing but exciting, and a gorgeous contrast for your dark hair, Mor explained. You looked in the mirror, she wasn’t wrong.

Rita’s was always a hoot, and before long each and every one of you were considerably drunk.

You looked around at your family, Rhys and Feyre had retired early so she could rest. Cassian teased Nesta in the corner of the booth, her spirits lifted by the music. Amren was sitting on Varian’s lap, arms draped across his neck with a glass of wine as she smiled in her feline way while he muttered something in her ear.

Azriel and you were engaged in a conversation, he let you go on and on about a book you had read on the history of Illiryian weaponry. Drunken words flowed from you as you spoke with passion, Azriel watching with a relaxed smile.

You cut off your long winded sentence, catching him. “What are you smiling at?” you pestered, nudging his knee with yours.

He pressed his lips and shook his head, but the smile remained.

“Shots!” Mor shouted, carrying a tray of deep green liquid to your booth. Someone groaned, someone clapped.

“They say this is stuff will make you spill all your secrets,” Mor said, holding her shot high and inspecting the liquid.

“Just like Truth Teller,” you winked towards Azriel, your family laughing.

The liquid warmed your blood, and Mor pulled you by the hands to come dance with her.

You reached back to Az, begging him to join you. He crossed his arms and shook his head, waving a sarcastic goodbye as Mor pulled on you.

Prick.

Laughing and spinning to the music, you fell into the rhythm with the other party-goers at Rita’s.

Particularly, a handsome blonde male.

He grabbed your hand and spun you round and round, you laughed in delight, intoxicated and free.

You could have sworn you felt the cold jealousy of Azriel’s shadows as he stared from the booth. Too bad, you thought, he should have joined you in the first place. A dark part of you enjoyed the fact that he was watching. You drunkenly decided to see how far you could go.

The male was quite charming, and continued to dance and flirt with you throughout the night. You whispered jokes in his ear, and flirted back with no shame. The male was in awe of you.

He suggested you get some fresh air, and you happily agreed, holding his hand as you snuck outside.

Leaning against the the wall of the building, you could feel the thump of the music from inside as you giggled at the male’s joke.

He rested his forearm above your head, leaning down and looking at you.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

You blinked up at him flirtatiously. “I don’t even know your name.”

“My name is Merino,” he replied, leaning in further and kissing your neck gently. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes,” you breathed, his own breath sending tingles throughout your body.

He grabbed your face, mouths colliding as you hooked your arms around his neck. Between all the comments and teasing with Az, you had built up a lot of tension.

A small moan escaped your lips as the blonde ground his body against yours, his hands trailing your back to your backside, pulling your cheeks to him.

The next thing you felt was a cold rush of air, and a surprised yell sounded from Merino as he was ripped off of you.

Azriel stood between you, his hands trembling.

“Azriel!” You exclaimed in shock, your fingers on your lips where Merino was seconds ago, his kiss lingering.

“Leave,” Azriel growled at the male, his back to you. You could barely see past his shadows which swarmed around him, his stance almost feral, ready to attack. Merino stared for a few seconds, then turned and fled, unprepared to fight the Shadowsinger. A wise choice.

“What in Mother’s name do you think you’re doing?” you fumed, words a bit slurred from the alcohol.

He turned and grabbed you arm without even looking at you. “It’s time to go.”

Sure enough, the group were readying to leave out the front of the bar.

You sulkily agreed, winnowing yourself back to the House of Wind, preparing for the fight you were about to have with Azriel.

--------

Part 6 >>>

AN: Thanks for the support so far <3 If you’d like to join the tag list, just comment or message me :)

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serenpedac · 5 months

Text

End of year fic rec list 2023

I was looking at last year’s list and how it said I was excited for this year, because of the Book 3 release. And it was great to be here on tumblr while people were reading it and talking about it, and to see new people join! While this list isn’t about b3 itself, of course it did affect the fics that were written. It felt like the book was a lot about setting up pieces for the next book(s), and I adore how people incorporated these new bits of information into their own fic. We may have a long wait ahead for Book 4, but with people here sharing their writing, their art, their thoughts, I don't mind it all that much!

As always, there are many wonderful fics that are not on this list, like the ones from the fic exchange earlier this year (I'm very much looking forward to the Secret Santa as well). Not because they don’t deserve to be, but because my energy and time are limited and the list is already so very long haha

Thank all of you who shared your beautiful writing <3

List below the cut! Please be mindful of potential warnings

sincerity is scary - @thee-morrigan

Fine. She was fine. Despite the strain of these past months, she continued to be perfectly fine. Had gotten through everything that’d been thrown at her. Not entirely smoothly, certainly not effortlessly, but…she had gotten through it.

This fic had to be the first on this list because it was exactly what I needed to read after finishing Book 3, even if I didn’t know it before reading it. So much is thrown at the detective in that book and, for a detective romancing N, there’s that one conversation at the end that must leave some kind of impact… This fic felt like it finally gave the detective (and me) time to let it all sink in and reflect—no matter how much Holland tries not to think about it. I’m just really thankful this fic exists.

quiet and content - @sealriously-sealrious

There’s more she wants to tell them—usually she’s so good at crafting her sentences with eloquence, tying them together and making them flow like silk. But then Marin’s hands are in her hair again, and that goes entirely out the window.

Choosing one of aeruh’s fics to share on this list was so so hard! They blessed us with many lovely fics, and I absolutely adored the lighthouse AU as well! But this oneshot about Nat and Marin just has so much warmth. Just like Nat gets to relax, be the one who is taken care of for once, I felt like I could sink into this fic. The perfect comfort read <3

to drink from a poisened well - @thcscus

His eyes refocused, one last time. As gray and as beautiful as the last time she lost him. “Mason,” she breathed, panic bursting across her body like fireworks. Stay with me.

Rereading this fic broke my heart again! The premise of Mason losing his memories of a romanced detective hurts so good. And to then have the two meet again, years later… Ah, I don’t want to spoil anything, but the story, the characterisation, the ending, everything here was so well-written! On top of that, the writing itself is simply wonderful. Loved it all!

Just a Nightmare - @lykegenia

Her blood sings, goads him, and his fangs lengthen behind his lips.

The start of this fic is so incredibly sexy!! And the rest is also so good. I love how Lykegenia explores what might happen if N stayed the night with the detective—something that was notably absent in b3. To add to that, Nate and Leah are one of my favourite couples, so to see the growth in their relationship in how Nate decides to trust and open up a little more at the end was lovely.

you make me laugh again, feelin’ so good - @lovelyfoolish

She used to think of these early-morning-after conversations as uncomfortable half-somethings. But they’ve become worn, softening the way leather does, or wool, and now the incomplete sentences feel more like uncut jewels, rough with possibility, an entire language constructed from what they leave unsaid.

A wonderful slice-of-life fic between Mason/detective. I love how it shows the beauty of a seemingly everyday moment. There’s something so delicate about this stage of their relationship, in how they have grown closer and more familiar with each other and are starting to share these “ordinary” moments, but there’s also a lot that’s still unexplored. This fic and its prose capture that beautifully.

Scarlet Welly Boots - @cigarettesandinevitablebetrayal

“You’re going to be the best mum I’ve ever had. I know it.” He looks back down at the boots in his lap, wrinkling his nose. “Even if you buy me boots.”

I will always be in awe at the thought people put into the backstories of their OCs and this fic is an amazing example of that. The impact of Rook’s death is felt throughout this story, affecting the relationship between Ciaran (Raine) and Rebecca. But what I love the most about this fic is the bond between Ciaran and his brother Eoin. There’s this part in the second chapter that made me so soft <3 I know the detective canonically is an only child, but we need more sibling relationships!

Half Past Seven? A Post It Note - @agentnatesewell

Don't you know, my beloved, I will give you all the seconds of my immortal life?

A short, sweet and little bit spicy fic! N leaving notes for a romanced detective is one of my favourite things and this note is so wonderfully Nate! His voice, the beautiful language in which he reminisces about the night before, how he thinks about their future together <3 The loveliest little treasure of a fic that I only discovered this year.

I Can’t See Me Lovin’ Nobody But You - @plasticdodecagon

His daughter, Avery. Her sweet smile and her chubby cheeks and her big, curious eyes. How he didn't want her to grow up without a father, how he didn't want her to feel lonely, how he always wanted her to feel loved.

Speaking of sibling relationships, this Rook lives AU has some wonderful ones as well! Reading about the family that the detective could have had, if Rook hadn’t died, may be a little bittersweet, but it’s mostly very heartwarming. PD’s interpretation of Rook is amazing, and this alternative take on how UB meets (not-detective) Avery and gets thrown into family life has been great! I’ve been enjoying every part of this fic so much!

Nightswimming - @nerdierholler

Beside him, Ethan floated, bathed in moonlight, stars reflected in his eyes.

First of all, this quoted sentence is beautiful and evocative and will stay with me for a while! After the pain b3 brought for A-mancers, this ficlet was like a soothing balm. Adam finally accepting his feelings and the tranquil feeling this brings him were written so well. The entire atmosphere of this fic was wonderfully quiet and peaceful.

Breaking the Yearlings - @evilbunnyking

That first night Adam invited him to his own rooms Tobias had entered slowly, cautiously, running his fingers over the fireplace mantle and then the carvings of the bedposts, and all that Adam had wanted was for him to touch him, instead.

This one kind of feels like cheating, since it was also on last year’s list, but Tobi and Adam have my entire heart. Bunny weaves Adam’s (and also Tobi’s) past and the present together beautifully and the writing is gorgeous, always. My favourite part was when Adam finally met present-day Tobi, which was as impactful as might be expected!

inside this place (i call our home) - @thelionheartedo3

Adam’s arms are still crossed over his chest, but he doesn’t tell Ely no. Mango stretches a paw out towards him, mewling, and Nate hides his smile with a hand over his mouth as he watches the stern mask melt off of Adam, shoulders dropping from their hunch.

Fluff!! This was pure and adorable fluff in the form of an orange kitten. I fell in love with Mango at first sight while reading this fic, haha! It’s so much fun to see UB reacting to having a kitten around the warehouse. I was looking forward to rereading this one a lot and it was still every bit as heartwarming as I remembered.

Finally, a very lovely person suggested that I should also celebrate myself, something I don’t find easy to do. Thank you, sweet friend, for your message and for giving me this nudge <3 Here is a snippet I wrote on a whim, but that has by now become part of my HC for Yael and Nate, in which that one conversation at the end of b3 ends with them breaking up. I hope to some day continue this storyline and give them the happy ending they deserve.

#fic rec #rec list #the wayhaven chronicles #one day i will stop making these lists so long asfadsfd

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maisonaime · 4 months

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Ilithyia's Blessings

I got Covid-19 as a college graduation/early Christmas present :) enjoy the fruits of me being stuck in my parent's basement.

Summary: Rewrite of Feyre's reaction to finding out about the risks of her pregnancy! I (like many) hated how this was dealt with, and would personally love to see her rip the entire IC a new one for that bullshit. Diverges from canon the moment Nesta leaves the townhouse. Heavy angst and hurt for all, BUT a happy ending! Please note that I am atrocious at writing dialogue so forgive me.

Warnings: Pregnancy complications, family dysfunction, mentions of past trauma, emotionally abusive & generally unhinged behavior from all!

Part 1:

As the last of Nesta’s burning fury trailed out of the door after her, Feyre’s eyes once again met Amren’s. The tears there had turned sharp as glass shards. Power imbued with the abundance of life nestled in the High Lady choked the air of the townhouse, damp and salty and so very wrong. They had been so very wrong.

Amren did not falter, but her stance was one of false ease. She had never wished so badly to be well-versed in the nuances of emoting and made a note to herself to observe her peers' reactions more closely; that she might glean some useful mimicry for a similar situation in the future. A creature of preternatural stillnesses and pregnant silences, Amren waited until Feyre spoke in a voice so deep it may have been derived from the pits of the Mountains themselves.

“How long have you all known?”

“You should really ask your ma–” bared teeth cut her off.

“I asked you Amren. How long?” Feyre snarled.

It was becoming uncomfortable to breathe, reminiscent of the cloistered air of the Prison. Amren was struck with the sudden realization that her powers were no match for her High Lady, not anymore.

“Too long” she admitted unflinchingly. “I will apologize for my part in it, but Rhysand had his reasons and I saw the practicality of it. As your friend, I know it was wrong. You must understand Feyre, I have to be the one person who can separate emotion from decisions in this Court, it’s my first nature and my duty as Rhys’ second.”

Feyre just stood there, eyes wide, breathing hard. Her tattooed hands still clutching her stomach as though the babe would rip its way into the world for all the horror she felt in that moment.

“Has it ever once occurred to you…” – her voice burned through the condensed ether like the birth of a star, Amren winced – “has it ever once occurred to any of you, that when Rhys made me High Lady, he made me High Lady of this Court, not just his High Lady. I am High Lady of the Night Court, I am your damn High Lady. And if you Amren are his second, then you are also mine.”

Tiny ancient one be damned, she needed backup for this. She only prayed Varian had the good sense to bring Elain back to the townhouse, no one else would do any good for this moment.

And to think I was lecturing Nesta on respect.” she seethed. “To think that I’ve put up with this ridiculous sequestering of my family by my family. Elain and Nesta are flailing as they grapple with bodies and lives they were born and bred to fear, just as I did. We treat Elain like a vapid flower as if she is not burdened to see between fucking worlds. And you all act as though Nesta’s viciousness will tear chunks out of me but you forget she is my sister. I have known her my whole life and she has not torn my throat out yet. Vicious she may be, but at least she’s godsdamn honest.”

“No one is denying this Feyre but I don’t see–”

“What this has to do with me? With my child? There’s plenty you lot are failing to fucking grapple with right now. The very basic premises of duty and friendship to start with. What about the principle of allowing a female control over her own life, her own body?” there was a jagged edge of panic making its way into her tone, the air grew impossibly tighter.

At that moment the door banged open once again and Amren winced again as Morrigan pushed her way into the room against the wave of unyielding magic pulsing from Feyre. She silently cursed Varian.

“Feyre, I’m so sorry. If we had thought there was any other way to keep you and the babe safe–” she began before she was cut off by a dark wave of Feyre’s magic. Not the same magic that silenced Tamlin’s voice at the meeting of the High Lords, but a plume of magic that quite literally took the place of the air in Mor’s lungs, bringing her swiftly, silently to her knees.

“Surely you aren’t going to tell me you knew what was best for my womb Morrigan, you couldn’t even protect your own from desecration.” Feyre spat down at her.

Amren stood frozen in horror, watching Mor claw at her neck, eyes bulging and mouth agape like a fish out of water. The spell lasted only moments before air rushed back into her purpling face with a harsh gasp, but both Fae were still frozen in place before their High Lady.

“You all seem to have forgotten, that I live and breathe the powers of all the Courts of Prythian. That I am Made, my sisters and I. We are creatures to be feared and served before we are loved. You’ve failed me, and in doing so you’ve failed this Court. Make sure you let Rhysand see me say that when he looks into your mind.”

Mor blanched, “Feyre you can’t leave now, Rhys and Madja are so close to finding an answer.” Where the hell was Rhys, how had he not yet sensed the chaos threatening to level the entire block of buildings the townhouse occupied?

“I can and I will. I am not safe here, nor is my child. I will seek refuge where I can find healers and friends who will allow me the dignity of deciding what I do with my body, my child. That I would put my life in the hands of a healer who answers to my mate over me, a husband who seeks to deceive me and involve my entire family in doing so? No, I would be a fool to give away my life so passively.” she paced before them frantically, power collecting into thick bands that coiled around Feyre in a churning, horrid shield.

No longer their friend, no longer their family. A mother and a female burning with primal rage and fear for the safety of her child, guaranteed only by her ability to protect it. Protect it from the world, and in these agonized moments, protect it from her family. A family that could no longer be trusted.

“He will rip apart the world to find you and the babe Feyre, this won’t do any good.” Amren spoke as bluntly as usual, but the edge in her tone betrayed her wariness.

“Let him try. I’ve never had the chance to test my powers against him, have never needed to until now. I confess I’m curious to see if I can inspire the fear in him that he’s attributed to my name.” The crazed glint in Feyre’s watery eyes was wholly unnerving.

“Feyre, I’m begging you, don’t do this. We all lived with the fear of losing each other during the war– you and Rhys actually did. Don’t let this tear us all apart again.” Mor was practically weeping, still draped at Feyre’s feet in submission.

“Mor, it’s not my decisions that have led us here. I’ll leave it to you all to decide how to proceed; this Court seems to conceive of its most coordinated efforts without my knowledge.” Feyre had stopped pacing and closed her eyes, all of that asphyxiating power rushing from the room back into those bands of black power coalescing around her. The hair on the back of Amren’s neck stood tall.

“Will you return girl?” she asked quietly, refusing to look away from the fierce specter of power they had so woefully forsaken. Accepting that there was little they could do to stop the events that had been set in motion.

Feyre’s head snapped to her, eyes black with rage, looking every bit the Made Fae that could undo curses and courts.

“I will return when I have proven to you all that I can give birth to my son without your duplicitous interference. I will return when I have a Court and friends and a mate that I trust to bend the knee, not bring me to my own.” she said with finality.

The vortex of power around Feyre crackled and snapped as Rhys’ careful warding of Feyre’s body collapsed under her iron will. A new source of power, alarmed and frenetic and reeking of Rhys, swept through Velaris and into the townhouse. It crashed into the whorls of Feyre’s might with a piercing screech. The windows shattered sending glass through the air. Amren and Mor curled into themselves to avoid the spray.

When the chimes of falling glass had stopped and Mor and Amren could uncover their eyes, Feyre was gone. Where her scent, her power, her body had overwhelmed the room, there was absolutely nothing left to indicate that the High Lady of Night had ever stepped foot in the townhouse.

Somewhere in the distance, mountains rumbled, birds took flight and the citizens of Velaris cowered as Rhysand let out an unearthly roar.

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badartxd · 1 year

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This has literally taken me a couple of weeks now, which is funny bc it was initially going to be a doodley comic but I ended up having fun with the lighting and then procrastinating on drawing Zevran’s fire and rendering his face for 2 days instead… so yeah. I’ll ramble a bunch now.

So! Pardon the jumbled words but this has lived in my head rent free for a month at least! Vasylysa isn’t suuuuper stoked to be out of her element and around so many people she’s unused to, and gets through the first few weeks avoiding socializing with her teammates, aside from maybe Barkspawn. She does, however, like observing, and spends quite a bit of time off to the edge of camp taking little notes and doodling things around her. (Which is also why her image is so much darker! She sits away from the fire, at the tree line.) Which…. Admittedly kinda creepy maybe, but I don’t reckon the Circle is well known for good social skills, especially for ND mages. She is content with staying unseen and minding her business, and captures some things from around camp - Alistair dozing off with Barkspawn, lulled to sleep by Leliana’s songs (I think it’d be of some comfort, given his upbringing. Also Vasya is guilty of that too, Ferelden is rubbing off on her), Morrigan reading what seems to be a grimoire(where did it come from?), Leliana jamming to some tunes with the Fat Lute they picked up from Bodahn(you can really hear the Orlesian in her singing voice), Sten looking over the fire with a bit of a softer, more melancholic and introspective expression than he usually permits (he must miss home, surely), and the newcomer rogue… he almost looks… sad? Which nearly catches her off guard, given his outwardly disposition the past few days. The doodle comes out almost automatically, as she looks up and back down at the page, adding the finishing touches to the eyes. Once she looks up again, the eyes meet hers, the rogue’s face donning a smirk that almost certainly was not there before.

I’m both uncertain and amused about the face I ended up giving Vasya here - she looks absolutely mortified, and she would be, but by the Maker, she takes things a little too seriously. Also, she should really have known better than to spy on an assassin who also happens to be the only other person in camp who’s capable of seeing in the dark. It’s funny, because in truth, both of them are fairly uneasy in their position, Zevran is just much better at masking it with a smile and a wink. That and the Warden’s reaction itself is hilarious and who knows, perhaps he is also flattered?

Ok thanks for reading here’s a close up xD

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nsewell · 2 months

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thank you to my beloveds @aztarion @nat-seal-well and @serenpedac for tagging me on this wip wednesday…i have another opera house date nat/detective snippet to offer, i promise this is inching close to being done i'm just being stingy with it. i'll tag @kirnet, @thee-morrigan, @sustainably-du-mortain no pressure of course 🫶

“You’re a vision,” she murmurs, honey-thick. You breathe in a whiff of her chosen fragrance for the evening--unfamiliar to you, it must be new. Sweet and earthy, blended accords that suit her well. “For the price of these tickets, you’d think we’d pay more attention to the performance than each other," you say, schooling your expresion to something tamer than your thoughts. She laughs clear as a bell and rakes a gloved knuckle up your arm, right where your vein runs hot. You feel briefly like a sculpture admired by an artisan, a patron. There’s something about her hands, long fingered and elegant and covered as they are, the suggestion of desire veiled beneath smooth fabric. Caught up in the allure of it, you're completely unprepared for what she whispers next as she draws impossibly closer. “I’d pay obscene amounts just to admire you in beautiful places. Theaters, museums, gardens. There's no scenery you can’t improve upon.” The word obscene unravels from her lips and tinges your cheeks darker. It’s almost enough to make you forget that you have the upper hand here--your world has shrunk to the dilated pool of her eyes dropping down to your mouth; moments like these, she eschews the pretense of humanity and forgets to blink. In some forgotten realm, Orpheus hits a peaking crescendo. You clear the tightening chord of your own throat with a swallow and say, “There’s a thought.” Nat smiles her best I’m-enticing-and-I-know-it-smile and straightens, neck lengthening to return her focus to the performance. "But you're right," she says lightly. "This is a treat to savor–so eyes on the stage, ya rouhi. I don’t want you to miss a thing.”

#my writing #nat is wearing black orchid by tom ford if you were so inclined to know!!!

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dalishious · 2 years

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Have you ever made a post explaining your thoughts on Flemeth? If so, sorry I couln't find it, but if not, what do you think of her?

Yeah, let's talk about Flemeth.

Flemeth was a horribly abusive mother to Morrigan.

Flemeth speaks of and to Morrigan as if she has been a burden; an unwanted pest she is glad to be rid of.

When a female mage warden asks about magic:

Flemeth: Not that I would mind a replacement daughter to order around

Morrigan: Believe me, you do not want that.

When the warden asks Flemeth what she will do when they leave:

Warden: What will you do once we're gone?

Flemeth: (Snort) Have a moment's peace, for once.

Morrigan: I hear the peace of the grave is eternal.

Flemeth: This is the thanks I get for feeding you and putting up with you for this long? Bah! May your child one day treat you the same.

Morrigan: Feed me, she says. Without me, I swear she shall be caked in dirt and eating tree bark inside of a month.

When the warden presents Morrigan with a replica of this mirror, Morrigan is taken back, asking what the warden wants. She doesn’t know how to accept a gift.

Morrigan: It is incredible that you found one so like it. I am uncertain what to say. You must wish something in return, certainly.

Warden: Don't be ridiculous. It's a gift, Morrigan.

Morrigan: You say that as if I should be accustomed to such a thing. I have... never received a gift, not one which did not come at a price.

Morrigan: I suppose I should say thank you. For the gift. 'Tis… most thoughtful, truly.

In Morrigan’s Fade nightmare, she is with her mother, except she doesn’t believe the spirit posing as Flemeth because it is too benign.

Spirit!Flemeth: I am your mother... do you not love me?

Morrigan: You are as much my mother as my little finger, right here, is the queen of Ferelden. I know you, fade spirit, you cannot fool me.

Spirit!Flemeth: Are you more clever than your own dear mother? Surely such pride must be punished!

Spirit!Flemeth: (Slaps Morrigan)

Spirit!Flemeth: There! That is for not showing respect!

Morrigan: That is far more like it, but it is too little too late, spirit.

Morrigan getting slapped across the face is more familiar to her than Flemeth asking if she loves her.

When Brosca meets their own abusive mother again, Morrigan comments "We have more in common than I thought…"

We spend a lot of time getting to know Morrigan in DA:O, and a lot of that is breaking through the trauma and negligence she suffered under Flemeth's care. And no matter how mystical and vivacious Flemeth is portrayed as in the following two games, that doesn't change. Morrigan still remembers, and was literally willing to give up her life before seeing her son suffer the same fate in DA:I. "Do whatever you wish. Take over my body now if you must, but Kieran will be free of your clutches. I am many things, but I will not be the mother you were to me," she says, in one of the most haunting voice acting moments in the entire game. And how does Flemeth respond to Morrigan? With a simple frown, like she's disappointed that Morrigan feels that way.

It irks me enough that Flemeth, a human, was apparently so in need of vengeance more than any elven person in Thedas that Mythal chose her to store herself in. That's a strange choice for the writers to make all on its own. But what makes it so much worse, is that Mythal is the goddess of motherhood and justice. So now we have the goddess of motherhood and justice inside an abusive mother, in a way that Flemeth describes as her being and Mythal's being blended to a point where you could not distinguish them easily, similar to Anders being possessed by Justice. What the absolute fucking fuck were the writers thinking with that???

Flemeth's backstory is a tragic one, yes. But that does not excuse her own actions in any way. I personally know a thing or two about feeling bad for what happened to your parent while also resenting them for the abuse they put on you at the same time.

#dragon age #morrigan #anti flemeth #meta #abuse tw

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