#a court of thornes and roses | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queen--of--shadows · 2 years

Text

Healing Shadows: Part 1

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader is a gifted surgical healer and water bender. Rhysand needs her help when he finds out about Feyre’s risky pregnancy. Azriel finds out reader is his mate.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,317

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

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

Part 1: Hopeless

It was a frigid, cold winter day in Velaris. Growing up in the beautiful town of night and stars, you were accustomed to the changing seasons but hated winter the most. As you stood in the back of the clinic, warming your hands by the fireplace, you heard the front door swing open; the bells hung on the back of the door knocking against each other violently. “Madja, please, I need your help,” a deep, rich voice echoed throughout the clinic. A voice you had never heard before, but laced with concern and panic, you couldn’t help but creep behind one of the bookshelves and pretend to stay busy as you eavesdropped on the conversation.

“She won’t be able to pass him naturally. I’ve spent every single day over the past few weeks trying to find a solution, but I can’t find a way out of this. Please, Madja. I need something. I need some kind of hope or some answer. There has to be some option.” Grabbing a few books to reshelve, you turned a corner, and your knees almost buckled on themselves.

Standing at the front of the clinic with his hands on Madja’s shoulders was none other than Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court. You immediately recognized his blazing purple eyes, the power thrumming from him and into your very bones. You weren’t one to be easily intimidated, so you kept your focus on the books in your hands and began reshelving. Madja looked over her shoulder, trying to get your attention, but you ignored her. She knew you didn’t like people knowing about your powers, even if it was the High Lord. “I’m sorry, Rhys. I am out of ideas and don’t know what else to do. Y/N and I will do some more research tonight, but I can’t promise anything. We’ve already looked through all our books, but we will look once more. I will try my best, but the High Lady needs you now more than ever; please, go attend to her, and we will try to figure something out.” Rhysand held his stare but finally nodded, disappointment and sadness apparent in those beautiful violet eyes. He stalked out of the clinic, and Madja quickly locked the door behind him.

“What was that all about?” you asked, trying to sound as uninterested and nonchalant as possible, like it was anyone other than the High Lord who just blasted through the front door.

“The High Lady is pregnant. She was in her Illyrian form when her child was formed, and I went to see her a few weeks ago to check on the child. He has wings.”

You didn’t need more information to determine how dangerous the High Lady’s pregnancy was.

“I know you don’t want anyone to know about your gift, but you saw how distraught Rhysand was. I’ve been taking care of him and his brothers for centuries. It would mean a lot to me if you would just consider helping him and Feyre. They would be eternally grateful.” Madja’s words hung in the silent air, and her pleading gaze meant she wanted an answer sooner rather than later.

“I’ll think about it tonight. I can’t promise anything, but… he did seem really worried. I can’t imagine what he must be going through. I’ll have an answer for you by the morning.”

Madja left, and you stayed back to finish cleaning up. Again the front door swung wide open. You jumped and let out a scream, shaken out of your thoughts of the High Lord and Lady. Turning around with the broom in your hand, you took a defensive stance, only to face Rhysand. His raven black hair was ruffled, wings spread out, and violet eyes burning into your own. Neither of you said anything for a few seconds, so you decided to break the silence.

“I was just--” he started. “Madja isn’t here; she left a while ago,” you sputtered out at the same time as him.

Rhys walked over to you, keeping a few paces in between the both of you. “My apologies. I’m Rhysand,” he said, offering a gentle smile and his hand.

“Lord Rhysand, I’m Y/N.”

“Please, call me Rhys. Are you a friend of Madja’s? I’ve never seen you around before.” Appreciating his calm demeanor, you replied, “Yes, I’ve known of Madja for quite some time. I was born and raised in Velaris, actually. I’ve been interested in healing and her knowledge of medicine, so I started as an apprentice here last summer and have been working with her since then. I overheard your conversation earlier; I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Is the High Lady doing alright?”

His smile quickly vanished, replaced with a frown and furrowed brows. “Feyre is…I’m scared.” The concern and fear in his eyes returned. “She doesn’t know, but she won’t be able to pass the baby naturally with its wings. Madja says there’s nothing she can do for her. Shifting into her Illyrian form is too risky, and Madja doesn’t know how to cut into her belly without risking either of their lives. I’m hopeless,” he finished, unknowingly pacing around the room. Madja’s request from earlier still rang in your ears. You had said that you would have an answer for her by the morning, but Rhysand’s words tore at your heart. You didn’t want anyone to know about your surgical knowledge or healing powers, but you empathized with his feeling of helplessness.

Half human and half fae, you had spent years studying in the human realms before even approaching Madja, learning about surgical techniques and spending countless hours operating on cadavers that people had offered once they passed. You were forever grateful for their sacrifice long after they were gone; without them, you wouldn’t have mastered the skills you were now equipped with. You had never performed an actual surgery, let alone on a fae. Another reason you didn’t want Madja telling people of your skills-- you weren’t confident enough yet to go through with them. “Is everything alright, Y/N?” Rhys’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Yes, sorry. Everything is okay; I think maybe more than okay.” A grin slowly etched your face, and Rhys’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I want to be honest, but I don’t want to get your hopes up, Rhys. Nobody knows this except Madja, so I would appreciate your discretion. I studied surgical techniques for years in the human realms. My mother was human and passed away years ago after an accident. She needed a surgeon, but there were none easily accessible to us. After she passed, I promised to learn as much as I could. I’ve worked on cadavers before and am very familiar with pregnant females, but I’ve never performed surgery before, and I’m not 100% confident in my abilities. If you and Feyre want to take the chance, I would be more than willing to perform Feyre’s surgery. I know this is a big decision and not something to take lightly, but Madja told me there are not many options. Please take all the time you need and talk it over with her.”

A tear slipped out of Rhys’s eyes, and he rushed over to grab your shoulders, just like he had with Madja. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for trusting me with this information. Let me talk to Feyre and see what she says. I’ll stop by tomorrow morning to let you know, but I think this will be our best bet. Thank you.”

Rhys rushed out of the clinic. You didn’t realize how tightly you had been gripping the broom this entire time, and your jaw was clenched so tight that an ache seared through your teeth. What did I just get myself into, you thought to yourself as you locked the clinic door behind you and walked back home.

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

906 notes · View notes

princess-tulip-writes · 2 years

Text

masterlist

smut

sweet morning sex with lucien

cassian eating his best friend's pussy

sex with an irritated eris

lucien cumming early

things azriel says during sex

jealous azriel

giving azriel head

riding azriel

begging cassian to keep fucking you

azriel talking down virgin!reader with bad experience

giving subby lucien a blowjob + mommy kink

cassian worshipping your body

getting punished by lucien

cassian being cocky

things cassian says during sex

daddy kink with eris

enemies with benefits with dark!azriel

mommy kink with lucien pt 2

azriel loving on your tummy

sitting on azriel's face

daddy kink with cassian

sub!lucien pt 3

nervous first time with cassian

rhysand overstimulating you

eris fingering you

angry rhys

eris praising you

riding azriel's abs

mommy nesta

period sex with azriel

disobeying eris

just cassian fucking you

things eris says during sex

first time domming mor

public quickie with azriel

lucien and azriel threesome

safewording with cassian

azriel fucking you with truthteller

being azriel's princess

eris punishing you with overstimulation

azriel holding you up while fucking you

mommy mor

sublucien pt 4

first time with eris

makeout session + handjob with eris

eris catching you touching yourself

azriel rubbing your clit

fluff

affectionate rhys before bedtime

aftercare with azriel

soft mornings with rhys

making cassian soup

clingy, sleepy azriel

azriel helping with your period

lucien fighting off your love

rhysand telling you how great of an artist you are

azriel taking care of anemic!reader

azriel making you believe that you are loved by him

soft morning with eris

#acotar smut #acotar blurb #acotar #a court of thorns and roses smut #a court of thornes and roses #acotar x reader #acotar x reader smut

697 notes · View notes

shyfandomfan · 2 months

Text

Me: Tamlin's great I really do like him...but then theirs Lucien who is interesting and not quite my type but close and I feel myself leaning towards him more.

-Later, near the end of the book-

Rhysand: *Enters*

Me: hmmm *Sweats*

#acotar #books #A Court of Thornes And Roses #book 1 #book series #acotar series #booktok

8 notes · View notes

pascalmode · 2 years

Text

In The Stars (1 - The Fall)

My first az fic! Also posted on my ao3 (fortheloveofstark) I know nothing about formatting on here or on ao3, so if you have tips or tricks, please message me!

AZ + TOG OC (this is a work of fanfiction)

Age: 18+

Warnings: Cannon level violence, sad shit, mentions of torture, Cairn and Maeve, a whip.

The dagger in her chest had missed her heart.

And yet, she can feel the curve of the blade with each of her laborious inhales, the crimson of her blood dribbling down the front of her and filling her mouth with the taste of copper.

Asteria looks around in her bloody haze, her brothers collapsed in the sand around her, fighting the oath that runs deep in their blood, the very oath that had taken her two hundred years and nearly all of her magic to shatter.

The ironteeth witch is too far out of reach, near her, a weeping would-be-lady of a far away land is held in the steel-like grip of the male she once loved. The male she wished for so long to return her feelings.

Directly across from her, the heir of the land, the heir of fire, is on her knees; reflecting Asteria’s own posture, held up by two males, having just been lashed by the whip of Asteria’s own centuries-long tormentor.

As the Fae Queen glowers down at her, the same Queen the female had pledged herself to when she was too young to know better.

Asteria lets a weak growl past her lips as the raven haired terror crouches down, her hand raising to stroke down the blood soaked female’s silver hair.

Asteria had thought she could help, that she could fight and make a difference in this war. That she would be the one driving the blade into the Queen’s heart.

She’d been wrong.

“You have been so strong for such a long time, Anaira,” Maeve whispers, her nail scraping along Asteria’s jaw. It isn’t the touch, but rather the false name that makes angry goosebumps rise along every scarred part of her. The blood leaching out of her has made her weak, weak enough that she can’t salvage the energy to bat away her hand, “Your magic is like nothing else. Through the Realm, you can do anything. And I have watched you, for more than three hundred years, waste that magic. That potential.”

Asteria opens her mouth, wanting to yell, and to scream to the queen. Tell her that she’ll never win. That the lashed would-be-queen would be her downfall. But she can barely manage more than a shaky breath and droopy eyes.

Her brothers are snarling where they lay, trying to get to her. But they can’t. They’re still bound by blood.

“You are going to do one more thing for me,” Maeve sneers, “Open the door between worlds. Right behind you.”

“Maeve!” The blonde heir shouts from behind, “Leave her alone, she has no part in this!”

The Fae Queen doesn’t spare a glance towards her, muttering, “Cairn.”

The sound of the whip cracking through the air shudders through Asteria, and the shriek that follows rumbles through her bones.

“You should be grateful, all of you should be,” Maeve announces, her voice moving beyond Asteria, to the entire beach, “I’m doing you all a favor. The most powerful full-blooded female on her knees, drawing her last breathes. Soon to be cast out from her own realm and doomed to fall forever, long past her own death,” Maeve’s hand comes to grip the handle of the dagger that she had plunged into Asteria’s chest, “Open the portal.”

The injured female shakes her head, weakly managing, “I don’t serve you.”

“If you want your brothers to survive the day, you will,” Maeve sneers, twisting the blade.

With the jerking motion, Asteria screams, her magic surging out of her and into the realm beneath her. Maeve could hurt her all she wants, having done so for centuries, but Asteria will be damned if her brothers meet that same pain. That same torture. The ground quakes with the force of Asteria’s dying magic, light rising from the sand as though the stars had embedded themselves in the grains.

With a noise loud enough to shatter the sky itself, the galaxy rips open behind Asteria. The winds rise, whipping around violently, as if it could protest the very thing that is happening.

Asteria is dying, and there is nothing that the Realm can do to save her.

The door between worlds hadn’t been opened; Her desperate magic had shattered it.

Maeve’s motion is quick and ruthless, ripping the dagger from Asteria’s chest, earning a pained grunt from the green-eyed female. Maeve’s long fingers grab onto Asteria’s chin, making her look directly into her own, endlessly dark eyes, “Very good, my Anaira. Do you remember why I named you this?”

Asteria says nothing, the space between them filled with her own shaking breathes as Maeve continues, “It means despair. A constant reminder of what you are, and what you bring to others. Pain, fear, suffering. They have all been yours to wield, Anaira.”

Asteria hates that she feels helpless tears roll down her cheeks. She hates that Maeve had won.

She’d succeeded in the one thing she set out to do; she had broken Asteria beyond recognition. Turned her into a picture of despair, as she had been named two hundred years ago and thought that she’d escaped.

“Any last words, Realm Reader?” Maeve asks, releasing the female with a smirk. Taunting. Dangerous.

She looks upon those surrounding her again, the warriors who would have made up a court that she’d have honored to be a part of; to fight alongside. Gavriel. Fenrys. Elide. Lorcan. Manon. The ones still at battle in the sea beyond the sands; Rowan. Lysandra. Aedion. Countless others. And Aelin. Asteria had done it all for Aelin; because she believed in her; Believed that she could be good when no one else did.

And now she’s dying because of it.

Aelin Galathynius meets her gaze, naked chest rising and falling from the pain in her back.

“Make her pay,” Asteria says over the roaring winds, looking at no one but Aelin, her voice strained with effort and nearly muddled by the blood pooling in her mouth, “And do right by this Realm. By me. Keep your promise, Aelin, even though I can’t see it to it’s end.”

The fire-bringer’s eyes are lined with silver, and a sob rips through her, “A better world.”

“A better world,” Asteria repeats, every ounce of faith put into that idea. The one she’d believed in so deeply when she’d showed up in Adarlan, to Aelin’s warehouse apartment, before magic had been freed.

A better world. One she’ll never see.

Maeve grabs her chin again, “After all of our time together, do you have nothing to say to me?”

Asteria’s green eyes bore into Maeve’s, the female who had taken everything from her. Who had renamed her at the first sign of her centuries long defiance. Her tormenter who had called her despair and brought nothing but that.

But she is not despair. She is not Anaira. She is Asteria Relridaar, and like the Heir of Terrasen she loyally follows, she would not be afraid.

So, Asteria opens her mouth, and spits on the Fae Queen, blood staining the porcelain skin of her oppressor. One last act of defiance.

“What’s my name?” Asteria growls, a smirk growing on her crimson lips. Taunting. Dangerous.

She wants Maeve to say it. To know that just because the most powerful female of the realm will be gone, she will be remembered. She had shattered the blood oath and taken her own name back by her sheer will. Something that had never been done before.

Maeve doesn’t wipe at her face, her dark eyes flicking from Asteria to the portal that she’d ripped open. Something Maeve could never do on her own even if she tried.

The Fae Queen smiles wickedly saying, “It doesn’t matter.”

With a single push, Asteria is shoved through the door between worlds.

And she falls.

#azriel x oc #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger #acotar #acotar oc #tog oc #tog #azriel x reader #a court of thornes and roses #inner circle #inner circle x oc #oc #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic

114 notes · View notes

covinskyswhore · 1 year

Text

Okay, buckle in because I have an SJMverse theory connecting all three of her series and what comes next.

I’m re-reading A Court of Silver Flames and I get to the scene where Nesta accidentally scrys during Gwyn’s singing and projects her mind to the chamber under the mountain prison where she finds the harp at the center of an ancient chamber that has wards (wyrd markings) and eight pointed star at the center, right under the harp. Time does not exist in this chamber. When Nesta asks about the star, Cassian says it might be part of the night court and then he says that Rhys mentioned once that it “might have even been an eighth court”. Nesta’s inner monologue makes it clear that she doesn’t believe it’s the night court because the magic feels different than night court magic. It would also make sense to have another court. We have four seasonal courts (spring, summer, autumn, and winter) and three celestial courts (day, dawn, and night). My theory is that there is a fourth celestial court that has to do with stars, just like the night court. But that comes later. At the center of this chamber guarded against time is an eight pointed star. You know where else we’ve seen an eight pointed star? When Bryce Quinlan from Crescent City does the drop, she’s left with an eight pointed star on her chest, the mark of the starborn fae. This makes me think that the “eighth court” are the starborn fae that were transported to Midgard and possibly another celestial court, like night, day, and dawn. Something to do with stars, so maybe a dusk court. Or…..The Twilight Court. Because twilight is the light from the sky between full night and sunrise or between sunset and full night. So between night court and dawn/day court. And you know what Sarah J Maas has on her goodreads page? A book that’s set to come out called..wait for it…….Twilight of the Gods. We have Twilight but where do the Gods come in? Are these the God’s Aelin banished in Kingdom of Ash? I firmly believe that the “Gods” represent the three leading SJM women. Sun, Night, and Stars. Aelin, Feyre, and Bryce.

Aelin Galathynius- Queen of Terrasen, representing the sun. Heir to Mala Firebringer, the sun Goddess of Erliea.

Feyre Archeron- High Lady of the Night Court, representing the moon. There’s many parallels drawn between her and Deanna, the goddess of the moon and sister of Mala Firebringer. Feyre’s abilities revolve around shadow and darkness and she wields a bow and arrow, like Artemis (basis for Deanna) from Bryce’s world as well but there she’s named Luna.

Bryce Quinlan- Starborn princess of the fae. Has abilities of starlight and the most powerful starborn fae in existence. She could be considered a god in her own right.

Three of them represent the God’s of celestial proportions. I have a feeling that Crescent City 3 will set up the ultimate plot and battle and culmination of all of SJM’s books in this book Twilight of the Gods. An Avengers: Endgame type of battle. Somehow, each of the major villains (the gods, the asteri, Hybern, the demon princes, Maeve, the prison under the mountain) from all the books are connected in some way and Twilight of the Gods will be the ultimate crossover between all three worlds and have Aelin, Feyre, and Bryce fighting together. Maybe even combining their magic. What makes me think this even more is the title. Twilight of the Gods. You Google it and the first thing that comes up is a reference to Norse Mytholoy and Ragnorak and “a series of major events foretold to result in the death of a number of gods”. Bryce lives somewhere named Midgard, also from Norse mythology. The God’s being killed are the gods Aelin banished and maybe the asteri. Maybe they’re even the same. I may sound like a lunatic but I think it’s a solid theory? Any thoughts lol?

Oh and I think the third Crescent City book will be called House of Flame and Shadow because not only is that one of the houses in Crescent City, it’s also two words used in one of the Throne of Glass books to describe Aelin. I forget which one and the passage but I know she’s referenced as flames and shadow. Flames because of her magic and shadow for her being an assassin.

28 notes · View notes

ataraxianne · 2 years

Text

I know that as soon as Sarah said in an interview that she was getting more and more informed about spy women during WW2 and how they helped winning the war by getting jobs around cities and getting closer to important men, between the other things, getting informations while being undercover as just a friendly face, everyone soon assumed it was referred to Elain (and her gardening almost everywhere in Velaris) and how this was a "clear" confirmation of Elriel

But like

This is exactly what Lucien has been doing his whole life?

He's not working in the dark, he is out in the world befriending everyone from every court so to understand the High Lords' plans and their court's situation and at least a contact everywhere so to know where to go and who to trust when needed, and thanks to this he also helped Azriel, the "known" spy who follows and hides in the shadows, in acowar

It just seemed more an Elucien prompt to me

#elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #acotar #acosf #acowar #a court of thornes and roses #sarah j maas #sjm

55 notes · View notes

svidie · 1 year

Text

posting acotar content but not being able to consume acotar content until i finish the series is my cross to bear

#acotar #a court of thornes and roses #a court of mist and fury #sarah j maas

2 notes · View notes

eachpage · 7 months

Text

Book Challenge: Find That Book With...

Hello, dearies! 🐲 I haven’t read these books, I think, but here is a new book challenge for find that book with... This, referring to different types of book covers, titles, or anything a book like a flower, city, and the sort. Alright, alright, I’ll jump straight to it. Continue reading Untitled

View On WordPress

#A Court of Thornes and Roses #blog community #book blogger #Book Challenge #Books #books suggestions #Jane Eyre #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #reading community #The Great Gatsby

0 notes

darklove9314-blog · 2 years

Note

Prompt- acowar nessian has to go flying for some reason and nesta is really curious about wings and Illyrian culture and asks cassian questions no one else has bothered to and he gets to share his culture

Nesta hadn't been sure why she had said yes to this in the first place, she was dead tired, her bones wary and her mind not in the right place to take company, but still when Cassian had knocked upon her door, an eager look on his face that she had finally bothered to answer, her annoyance softened a little.

She had opened her door wide enough for him to come inside, hearing the door shut gently as he stepped inside. She turned towards him clasping her hands together to stop them from shaking.

Her memory since turning had become sharper, remembering every detail of everyday, even the ones where she had been human. Her mind especially favoring the first time her and Cassian were truly alone. The time where he had kissed her neck and had felt so inviting to her that he had almost felt like home. A true home, not the one she had grown up in that was colder than any winter she had experienced.

She glanced at him, remembering his tongue darting towards her neck, how it had snapped her out of it after she had wondered what else his tongue could do to her. She shoved that thought down worried that his heightened scent would be able to trace any sort of arousal from her as she cleared her throat drawing his attention.

"Was there a reason you sought me out?" Shew asked him, wondering if her sister had sent him to her rooms to gather her for something.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go flying with me." He said, catching her oof guard.

Her stomach tossed at the thought, remembering her first flying experience with Rhysand and how it had made her vomit her guts out. She didn't think she could bare that again as Cassian's gaze searched hers.

"I promise flying isn't as bad as Rhys made it out to be, he was just being an asshole." Cassian told her as she gave him a sidelong glance.

"And you think that flying with you will help me get over that fear?" She inquired as Cassian glanced at her.

"Well, while it won'[t be as riveting as your flight with Rhys, I promise I'll be gentle. So what do you say, Nes, Do you want to come flying with me?"

Nesta was about to decline this offer until she caught sight of Cassian's gaze, the need there to be close to her. No man had ever gazed upon her the way that Cassian had and it was that look alone that had her saying.

"Sure. Why not."

Cassian glanced at her in surprise, almost like he had expected her to say no as he opened up the doors to her balcony, holding out his hand towards her as she walked over towards him , grasping onto it as he gathered her into his arms making her heart patter in response.

She willed her heart to quiet as he bent his knees launching them up into the skies as she shut her eyes tightly, clinging onto his neck for dear life as her hair wiped around her. She refused to open them until Cassian had set a steady pace and had assured Nesta that she was safe with him.

She opened up her eyes taking in deep breaths to tame the queasiness in her stomach trying to think of anything besides the fact that she was several feet from the ground and one false move could have her plummeting to her death.

She glanced at Cassina's wings thinking of a question that she could ask him to distract herself.

"Is having sex different with your wings?" She asked immediatley clamping her mouth shut as soon as the question was out. Why out of all the question she could inquire about his wings and how they worked, had she chosen to ask that specific one.

He chuckled making her cheeks redden, mortified, though Cassian seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Who knew Nesta Archeron had such a dirty mind." He stated.

"Forget I asked." She huffed, not sure where to focus now that she couldn't bare to look at him.

"No shame in a genuine question, Nes." He started.

"Why is calling me Nesta so difficult?"

"Because I like Nes. Everyone calls you Nesta, and I like to think I have a nickname that only I can call you."

"I barely tolerate it when you call me Nes." She pointed out.

"And yet you still let me use it."

"Whatever you say, Cassie." She shot back making him frown slightly.

"Point taken." He mused before he shifted the conversation to another topic. "So back to the topic of sex."

She groaned wishing that she could forget that she had asked that question, but of course when it came to things that were sexual she could almost guarantee that Cassian was more than willing to answer any question she inquired about.

"To answer your question, it takes some time to get used to, As you go along you find different positions to accommodate your wings to where it's pleasurable for both you and your partner. and you even learn how to incorporate them into intercourse."

"I'm sorry-what. You use your wings to-"

"You'd be surprised how many females enjoy wings traveling down their breast."

Nesta shook out the imagery that had taken form in her mind, the last thing she wanted was to imagine how Cassian would use his wings to pleasure her if this dalliance of theirs ever turned into more.

"Can we talk about something else?" She asked as he nodded.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Was learning how to fly again difficult after your-after your injury?" She asked, not sure if she should have stepped into this territory, but it was something that she wanted to inquire about for a while.

One of Cassian's wings twitched in response as if he was remembering that moment once again as he told her.

"Hold onto me."

She nodded as she closed her eyes when they descended where he landed them on a mountain overlooking Velaris, the view taking her breath away as she stepped closer to take a better look.

A few moments later, Nesta felt Cassian beside her as he answered her question,

"Yes. There were days when I would wake up, where the shredding in my wings were damn near unbearable to stand. Days where Madja would have to put me under with medication when the pain was too unimaginable. Days where I would try to fly and get only a centimeter off the ground. Those times...those times I would sink down to the ground and wish that the King had killed me instead."

She in took a sharp take of breath, glancing at him, before reaching out to clasp his hand, catching him off guard. His hand warm in hers. They glanced down at their intertwined hands, shock coursing through both of them as they gazed at one another, the feeling of each others hands almost natural.

"What-What made you get through it? The feeling of wanting to-" She didn't finish that sentence, she didn't have to. Their souls were two halves of the same whole, he could read her like an open book with just a glance as he tilted her head up to meet his stare.

"You."

"But I didn't-"

"I couldn't leave you alone. Especially not after me and the others failed you. We played a part in you becoming fae, and I'd be a real prick if I left you to handle this alone."

"You don't owe me anything." She reminded him, but she knew deep down that it wasn't in Cassian's nature to leave others alone.

"I would go through all the pain again to ensure that you were still here with me Nesta. To ensure that Azriel was still alive. It's just that sometimes-sometimes my mind goes to a dark place when it comes to my wings."

"Is there a reason why they're so important to you?" She asked, a look of shock passing Cassian's not because he found the question offensive, because he had never had someone ask him that question.

"I've had my wings ever since I was a babe. They're a part of who I am as a person. When I almost lost them it felt like-"

"Like you were losing a part of who you were?"

Cassian glanced at her, his hazel eyes softening.

"Exactly. Illyrian males take pride in their wings, Without them-Without them it's almost like we're nothing at all."

Nesta's heart hurt at Cassian's confession as she felt herself draw closer to him, wrapping her arms around him as he gasped slightly in surprise. Before she felt his own arms encircle her.

Nesta didn't know how long they stood there until she pulled away glancing up towards the skies.

"I'm glad that you're still here." She admitted to him as he glanced at her.

"I'm glad that I am too."

"Do you ever miss it?" She asked making his eyebrows lift in confusion. "Miss Windhaven?"

For the second time that day, Nesta had caught Cassian off guard with her question as he turned towards the skies, a small smile spreading across his face as if in another time, another place.

“If you asked Rhys or Azriel that question, their answer would have probably been different from mine, but even though I acknowledge problems within the place I grew up, there is a deep sense of community and family there. And at the end of the day I wouldn’t have met Rhys or Azriel if I hadn’t been apart of it. Was there horrible parts of my childhood, of course there were, but Rhys’s mother helped me embrace the parts that I loved about it while acknowledging that we could work together to make the future brighter for every illyyrian child, so that they won’t meet the same fate that Az or I did.”

Nesta’s heart sank for Cassian, for the child he used to be. They glanced at one another for a couple moments longer before she said,

“Rhys’s mother seemed like an extraordinary woman.”

A sad smile crossed Cassian’s face as if he were in a different time, a different place.

“That she was. She gave me a mother figure to look up to when I thought the hope for that was lost, and she gave me a home when there wasn’t one.”

“It’s why you love Rhys so much.” Nesta observed. Her and her brother-in-law may have a strained relationship with one another, but she did have to give credit to him where it was due.

“I don’t consider Rhys my brother for no reason.” Cassian told her as he extended his hand out towards her.

“Are you ready to go back home?”

Home. Such a foriegn word when it came to her, and yet she found herself reaching her hand out to Cassian, grasping his hand in hers as he pulled her to him, the wind breezing in her hair, wiping it around them as Cassian gathered her in his arms and launched them into the skies to go back home, wherever home was. Wherever he was.

#nesta archeron #nesta #cassian #nessian #anon ask #writting prompt #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #a court of thornes and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames

54 notes · View notes

queen--of--shadows · 2 years

Text

My first ACOTAR fanfic!

it’s a whirlwind of a lot of different story lines lol but I hope everyone enjoys!!!!

6 notes · View notes

princess-tulip-writes · 2 years

Note

Could you write a blurb with Azriel where the reader either hasn’t had sex or ha only had really bad sex so Azriel just shows them everything?! Love your writing!

“don’t worry, baby, i’ll take real good care of you.” he mumbled against the skin of your neck as his lips covered the area with loving kisses.

“what if i can’t cum?” you whimpered back.

azriel’s lips stopped moving, and his once closed eyes had shot open.

“why wouldn’t you be able to?”

you pondered on telling him for a moment, debating weither or not the topic of your past lovers and experience should be brought up at this second.

he shifted before rolling off of you and gently plopping down onto his side next to you. a scarred hand cupped your face softly, as if signaling you to turn your attention to him.

“hm?” he hummed, awaiting your answer.

you swallowed thickly at him, anxiety creeping into your throat.

“i don’t know.” you shrugged. “what if i just can’t?”

his brows furrowed at your lack of information. what was it that you weren’t telling him?

“are you a virgin?” he asked softly with a loving undertone to his voice.

you blushed at the question, and hesitantly nodded.

for a moment, you swore you saw a flash of love in his eyes, but it left as soon as it arrived. he cracked a small smirk.

“baby, that’s okay. i don’t mind at all.” azriel cood, his hand moved from the frame of your face and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “but, why are you worried about cumming? have you ever tried before and failed?”

your whole face heated up this time. sure, you’ve touched yourself before, and made yourself cum plenty of times, but everytime you tried to take the next step, and have sex with someone, they could never make you cum.

since you were a virgin, every male would try to rip one orgasm out of you before actually going inside of your tight cunt, just to make it more pleasurable for the both of you. but, every man failed. therefore, you would always call it quits after the hour mark rolled around and your clit was tired of being probed at.

at first, you assumed that the first two men were just very bad at making women orgasm, so you went to a dear friend of yours that you knew very well made lots of women scream out in pleasure.

but even he failed.

so, you came to the awful conclusion that you were broken and were going to die a virgin.

“i-i don’t know. i mean, of course i’ve touched myself, but-“ you couldn’t find the right way to put it without sounding crazy. “i don’t know.”

“come on, sweetheart. just use your words.”

your stomach leaped with arousal.

“i think i’m broken.” you whispered shyly, your gaze falling onto the ceiling above you.

silence fell for a moment, before he let out a chuckle.

“baby, i assure you, you’re not broken.” he smiled at you, a light hearted one. “why do you think that though? have you never made your self climax?”

he was persistent tonight.

“yes.”

he nodded. “good, see— not broken.”

you didn’t know how to explain your situation with him, without feeling judged. but this was azriel you’re talking about, not some random person. this was your mate. he would never judge you.

you took a deep breath before confesssing.

“no one else can make me cum. not even cassian.”

he erupted in a fit of laughter at the last part, just imagining the look on his brother’s face when he found out that he failed at making someone orgasm, had him almost crying in amusement.

you frowned. “are you laughing at me, azriel? please don’t.”

the softness in your voice caused a pang in your mate’s heart, immediately making his laughter stop.

“i’m sorry, my love. i swear i wasn’t laughing at you, sweetheart. i was just laughing at cassian not satisfying you, is all. he probably didn’t even think to try other methods other than one.” a smile still rested on his lips, but his words were laced with a sweet ambience.

you fell silent, contemplating if you wanted to go through with tonight or if you just wanted to curl in a ball and shrink.

“i promise, that i can show you many ways to feel good, darling. so many ways to make you squirm and your legs shake before i even put myself inside of you. i can make you feel so good…” he trailed off before his eyes flicked to yours. “if you’ll allow me.”

something in his voice had you convinced and you even felt a slight tug on the mating bond as he spoke. he was being truthful, you could feel that.

“okay.”

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel smut #azriel blurb #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel lemon #azriel fic #azriel headcanons #acotar smut #acotar blurb #azriel x reader smut #a court of thornes and roses #azriel 🌷#the bat boys 🦇

550 notes · View notes

shyfandomfan · 2 months

Text

Past Me: *Several pages before, reading over the riddle at least three or four times to try and figure it out* "Is the answer love? or like soulmate or something? *Stuck between these two, a little unsure*

-later/now-

Amarantha: "You never figured out my riddle did you?" "Pitiy the answer is so lovely"

Me: *Covers face and screams* "Oh come on!! It's love, it has to be and she just, Argh!

#acotar #books #a court of thornes and roses #acotar series #book 1 #book #booktok #book series

3 notes · View notes

pascalmode · 1 year

Text

In The Stars (7 - The Bloodshed)

Hi! It's been a while! I haven't written Asteria in a long time and was randomly inspired for her today. I missed her. I hope you did too. I hope you enjoy.

Az x TOG!OC

Words: 2.9K

Warnings: Violence, blood, gore, and a lack of Azriel (the man is busy sneaking around somewhere but he'll be back in the next one so no one worry).

For a long time, two complete centuries, Asteria dreamed of freedom. And now that she has it, what to do with it evades her.

Days and nights meld together, a handful of them passing in a quiet, yet impatient peace, the entire court still waiting to hear back from the High Lord of Summer regarding their request.

The silver-haired Fae had slipped into a routine, rising early in the morning to train with the two Illyrians, then meeting with Rhysand for hours on end. The male and female would meet in the office where she’d been introduced to the rest of the inner circle and pour over literature that the High Lord would request from his library.

Thick tomes of Prythian’s history; fierce battles between courts and the passing of lordship from one to another, records of naturalism that could probably be considered ancient by now, and anything else that may help her connect with the new realm that constantly rejects her.

Of course, Rhysand would come and go from the room to tend to his Mate, who would grace them with her presence long enough that Asteria looked forward to her visits. The High Lady is someone Asteria effortlessly admires, only hoping that Feyre would say the same about her.

Following the intense study, Asteria would retreat to her room for some much needed solitude before dinner, which is more often than not shared with the entire inner circle. Jokes would be made, and wine shared among a group that continuously chooses one another with each passing day.

Asteria would sink into the shadows that always welcomed her, feeling like an imposter despite their desire to rope her into the conversation.

When the meal would end and darkness would follow, Asteria would head outside after having longed for the stars relentlessly while the sun had been out. She’d sit and admire the night sky, wondering if one of the brilliant stars up above could somehow lead her home. Back to what she knows. To Erilea.

Then, like clockwork, Azriel would join her and she’d no longer find herself thinking about what she left behind.

Instead, they’d talk, they’d laugh, and they’d indulge in one another’s secrets as though they’d been friends for as long as they’ve existed.

He’d quickly become a comfort to her, so her disappointment is ocean-deep when she retires for the night, lucky if she’s greeted by a dreamless slumber.

Each day looked like the last, and when Azriel had suddenly disappeared for an assignment from Rhys, Asteria suddenly felt restless; as though her entire routine had ceased to exist.

Finding herself walking along the cobble-stoned sidewalk alongside the Sidra, Asteria allows her solitude to look different underneath a cloudless sky. Rhys had offered to fly her down to the city, since he and Feyre where heading down for some much needed time together after spending the entire morning apart, and Asteria took him up on the offer.

She’d gotten a tea from the shop Azriel had taken her to not long go, and began mulling over what she and Rhysand had read earlier in the day about a seemingly infinite amount of traditions that take place in each court.

The female familiarizes herself with the streets of Velaris, taking in the beauty of the community surrounding her. The fae couples strolling by arm in arm, vendors making sales and chatting politely about their products, and the laughs of friends catching up at a nearby cafe.

It’s all beautiful. But none if it as attention catching as the music store she spots near the edge of the city, near the walls that wrap around Velaris. Asteria heads toward it without ever deciding to, simply craving something familiar.

When she heads through the door, a bell chimes overhead, and Asteria breathes deeply, inhaling the scent of the viola’s varnish and spotting them lined up on shelves along the walls. There are sections for drums and percussion, others for strings, another for flutes and reeded instruments, all of which Asteria longs to hold in hand.

But then she spots the pianoforte in the corner, poised by a large bay window that lets in gleaming natural light, and it’s as though nothing else exists.

Moving to the instrument, Asteria lets her gloved hands move affectionately over the polished wooden cover that hides the ivory keys.

Slowly lifting it, Asteria’s breath hitches at the sight of her beloved piano. Her comfort in the highest of stress. The female thanks whatever gods landed her in this strange world that it exists.

“Asteria?”

Eyes darting up, Asteria quickly withdrawals her touch from the instrument like a child caught stealing sweets.

When she finds Murry, the Fae she’d danced with in the square, she softens, “Hello,” She says, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“In my own store?”

“This is yours?”

Murry shuffles nervously, walking over and settling on the other side of the pianoforte, “My father’s. I manage it.”

“It’s wonderful,” Asteria honestly says, “I’m envious of you.”

The words make an easy smile cross Murry’s youthful features, he sets his hands on the piano, “Do you play?” He asks.

“I did, seems like a lifetime ago.”

“Then you should consider yourself lucky that music never ages,” Murry thoughtfully says, motioning to the exposed keys, “Give it a try.”

Nodding, Asteria shoots her companion a small smile before easing onto the bench in front of the instrument calling to her.

The position is one she knows, one that she’d dreamed about for decades stacked upon decades. When she gently sets her fingers on the keys, it’s as though she’s greeting an old friend.

Pressing down in a few bars of scales she learned as a child, the sound that echoes through the room is sloppy, and discordant. It brings a memory to the front of her mind.

Hundreds of years ago she’d been sat at a piano just like this one, shoulder to shoulder with darkness personified.

Lorcan Salvaterre.

They’d been shoulder to shoulder, legs pressing against one another with his large hands splayed on the keys after interrupting Asteria mid-composition, which she which she couldn’t bring herself to be upset about.

He’d sat down, and Asteria took it upon herself to teach him the basics of the craft she holds so close to her heart. It’s only right that he learns, considering he’s her muse.

Lorcan wasn’t good at it by any means. His large hands would consistently hit the wrong keys, and the sound that came out of the piano would make her cringe, then laugh. How could she not? Her Mate trying to hard to please her, and failing spectacularly.

Eventually they’d ease up from their seats, Lorcan taking Asteria to bed and loving her in the only way they’d ever really known each other. The smiles faded, replaces with moans of passion and lust filled grips on the other until there was nothing left between them but a hollow space.

Ultimately they’d been wrong in thinking they were Mates, but the sound of hitting the wrong key, the wrong note, always makes Asteria think of Lorcan. A lasting memory from a life long since passed.

Pausing, and allowing herself to slow down, to take a deep, calming breath, Asteria tries again.

She moves through the scales like water coursing through a stream, confidently, and without hesitation. The piano obeys each of her commands, the erupting sound finally pleasing, and suddenly so real it’s almost tangible to the female who controls it.

When she stops, the silence is so sudden that Asteria feels as though it had struck her in the chest.

“You know your scales,” Murry remarks, snapping Asteria further into reality.

The silver-haired female shrugs, “They’re easy to remember.”

“Play something challenging, then.”

Asteria regards Murry tentatively, her gloved hands still resting on the ivory in front of her, “Any requests?” She shyly asks.

“Just that you play me something real.”

Nodding, the green eyed fae lets herself sit with what Murry’s asked. Something real. Asteria had been a composer before she’d been much of anything else. She knows music. She knows which notes compliment each other, and which ones provide a challenge when they’re struck. She knows how to expertly weave a melody from nothing.

So, with one more breath, Asteria plays.

She presses down on the ivory lightly, quietly, like a predator who’s just spotted its prey and is ready to begin the hunt.

The music is slow, and when it starts flowing there is no stopping it. Realizing this, Asteria closes her eyes to try and understand it while it escapes her.

The melody is slow, and winding. Almost lonely. It’s trying to find it’s own place, longing for something, or somewhere to call home. A yearning for something that has yet to exist.

Minutes pass, and the music builds in a way that makes Asteria understand that the predator was never what she thought it was. Instead, it’s the prey. Noble sound fighting for its life, building into something more frantic. Desperate. Imperfect.

Not in a way that is unpleasant, but in a way that makes Asteria wonder what she’d encountered, what she’s trying to express in a makeshift song. Imperfections that make more sense than anything else.

A ballad of someone who has made mistake after mistake, but is still fighting. Still breathing.

When the final key is struck, the chord lingering as though it’s hesitant to end, Asteria lets out a sigh of relief. As though she’d finally grown warm after a lifetime of freezing.

She’d played music again. And it had sparked something so wondrous in her that she can’t help the grin that overtakes her, her hands covering her smile in disbelief.

A smile that quickly fades as a wave of unease drifts in.

Asteria doesn’t know where it comes from, but it’s enough that she can’t hear what Murry is saying to her.

A prickle on the back of her neck, like someone is watching over her shoulder.

Something is wrong.

Instincts suddenly gone haywire, Asteria bolts up just in time for for the window she’d been sat beside to shatter. A lethally sharp black arrow wedges into the piano bench where she’d just been sitting.

A snarl leaves Asteria’s lips, and a deadly, familiar calm settles. She growls for Murry to run, barely registering him moving out the front of the store because she’s already heading through the open window.

The glass cracks further under her boots, and Asteria’s sight settles on the wall that surrounds Velaris, not far ahead from Murry’s shop.

There, standing squarely on top of the barrier, is an archer robed in black, new arrow nocked.

With a twang! The weapon shreds through the air towards her. But it doesn’t matter. Asteria is ready for it.

She snatches it from it’s path, stopping it before it can imbed itself where her heart thuds against her chest.

The action makes the archer falter, and she can smell his fear as soon as it hits the air.

Not wanting to waste another moment, Asteria darts forward towards the wall, snapping the arrow head from its vessel as she does.

Leaping up, a blast of her magic propelling her up, Asteria twists and hurls the arrow head with all of her might, hearing a satisfying gurgle as it strikes true, directly into the neck of the Archer, sending him toppling backwards over the side of the wall he’d perched on.

Asteria follows, the both of them landing on the other side, but only one still breathing.

Raising her head, she’s surrounded.

A semi-circle of masked, black robed males look upon her from all sides, a couple more archers, a few with their swords raised, and one with two handheld daggers. Ten of them in total.

Asteria reaches for a sword that isn’t there. Clenching her fists, she lets them remain by her side. She won’t need it. Not when the fight starts.

Eyeing each of the men, marking where they are and who poses her the greatest threat, Asteria smirks, “You can run,” She croons out, “but I assure you, you’ll just die tired.”

Before they can blink, Asteria is moving.

They let out a loud battle cry, the archers releasing their arrows only for Asteria to dart behind one of their own, the one closest to her, using him as a human shield.

The arrows sink into his chest, and he screams, dropping his sword directly into her waiting hand. Without releasing him, Asteria drives the long blade inbetween his ribs, a sickening crunch resounding when she yanks the weapon free.

Taking up a reverse grip on the sword, which is almost to heavy for her to do so, Asteria dances to the next male, swiping a set of arrows out of the air as she does.

Keeping her momentum, Asteria whirls, her blade ruthlessly sliding through flesh and bone of the one with the daggers, his blood spraying into a mist that no doubt gets into her hair.

When he falls, Asteria uses a beam of golden magic to pick up the discarded blades, sending them both deeply into the foreheads of the archers.

Four down.

Two of the swordsmen move towards her at the same time, one clearly swinging high, and the other low. Asteria huffs, ducking under a blade and driving hers into the earth to meet the other and halt it’s momentum with a clang!

Kicking out, Asteria’s foot connects hard with one of the male’s knees, earning a loud, sickening crack! As the joint shatters.

A scream fills the air, and the male begins to fall, only for Asteria to wretch her blade free from the earth and spin, her slice meeting his neck and separating his head from the rest of his body like a hot knife through butter.

Arms are suddenly on her shoulders, wrenching her backwards before they’re wrapping around her throat in a strong chokehold.

With her air faltering, an involuntary gasp leaves Asteria. She grabs onto the arms, dropping her blade.

But not without purpose.

Channeling her light, Asteria focuses on the heat of it in her touch, driving it up as far as it’s willing to go, her gloves igniting and burning up into nothing but ash.

The man holding her lets out a bloodcurdling scream, releasing her completely while the scent of blood in the air mixes with burnt flesh. Holding a hand out, magic still flaring, one of the daggers loosens itself from the head of an archer, flipping end over end to her waiting palm.

Turning, Asteria viciously slashes at her assailant’s throat, the spray of blood errupting from his wound and onto the silver-haired female’s face, and down her chest, darkening the midnight blue tunic she’d opted for that morning.

Calmly, Asteria turns to face the two remaining males, her mind silently calling out to Rhysand while she eyes the ones who remain; the one whose sword had swung lowly at her, and the other, who looked so pale, and so afraid, that Asteria smiles.

Without a word the female hurls the dagger she still holds into the male that had swung at her. The blade digging into the center of his throat in a flash of light so quick that he was hopeless to defend against it.

“On your knees,” Asteria commands with a ice filled voice, noting how the masked male, the only male left, trembles as she approaches, starring at her unwounded, blood coated form as it stalks towards him.

He complies, his breath shaking with each rapid exhale.

“Who sent you?” She asks, the killing calm that had invaded her mind slowly ebbing away.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“That will depend on who sent you,” A voice from behind cooly states.

Turning, Asteria spots Rhysand, his face a picture of beautiful indifference. Feyre stands by his side, sneering at the enemy down her nose.

Relieved that she hadn’t called the High Lord for nothing, Asteria positions herself behind the remaining assailant, one of her hands yanking the male’s hood down only to harshly grab his dark hair, her other hand ripping off his mask and settling beneath his chin.

A hold to snap his neck at the first que from the High Lord and his High Lady.

“Our bloody friend doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” Feyre says, removing her gaze from the male to nonchalantly inspect her perfectly manicured nails as though she doesn’t care what happens to the stranger.

“I-I can’t say,” The male shakily gets out.

Rhysand’s expression doesn’t change, his hand raising to pick an invisible piece of lint from the sleeve of his coat, “I don’t recall giving you a choice,” Night filled eyes find the green ones standing across from him, “Asteria?”

Nodding to the High Lord, Asteria draws her magic into her palms yet again. She pushes it into the male, shoving it past weak mental shields like a sword striking through wet paper.

Seeking the truth, Asteria shuffles through memory after memory of an unhappy life spent below. A different city in the Night Court. Harsh parents, an even harsher mentor. Then, instructions. For this. To kill the very female watching his memories flicker through her mind’s eye.

But who gave the order, she can’t see.

Gritting her teeth, Asteria delves further, only for the same result. He doesn’t know. Whoever orchestrated what they wanted to be an assassination is completely faceless.

Withdrawing her magic and coming back to herself, Asteria shakes the male’s life away from her own, and with a jerk and a sickening crack, Asteria snaps his neck.

He falls to the dirt, lifeless, and Asteria brings her eyes to Rhysand’s, who is waiting expectantly.

“He didn’t know,” She deadpans.

“So he wasn’t lying,” Feyre utters, “He was just an idiot.”

“Seems that way,” Asteria nods.

“Are you alright?” Rhysand asks, watching as the silver-haired female wipes the blood from her mouth with her sleeve.

“Yes,” Asteria says, taking a second to examine the gore surrounding them as she catches her breath, “Though I may have gone a little overboard.”

“The decapitation?”

“I can admit it; that may not have been necessary.”

“Seems perfectly justified to me.”

Asteria looks to Feyre, who shifts he gaze from her mate to the blood covered female, “You did what you had to do. Let’s just hope this is the end of it.”

----

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added):

@bionic-donut @hollyismentallyillhelp @younxii @feyretopia @hideing @eat-cake @warzaines

41 notes · View notes